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maxwell-grant · 1 year

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Any thoughts on AKI in SF6?

I haven't had a chance to play the game yet and I might do a more thorough look into the newcomers after I do sit through World Tour, but yeah I got some AKI thoughts. Holy shit what a design. Top 15-20 in the series, it is one hell of a different thing to watch it animated by the character's personality and moveset and vibe. We expected some FANG-isms, some Juri-isms, but certainly not that. We expected a cold, even generic assassin, not someone who merrily treats the penal code like a list of chores.

It was pretty funny seeing the reaction to her develop from "oh she's FANG's apprentice, okay I guess, not sure anyone was asking for that", to "is she the new Juri, she's got a really similar vibe", to "holy shit Juri's got NOTHING on her". In reaction to her popularity, SF6 had been doing a lot of great character work on Juri that, while making her much more developed and entertaining as a character (cringe failgirl Juri was such a revelation) and dramatically more interesting as a person, also really limits the extent to which she can be a straight-up villain anymore. Much like how FANG was designed to fill the void left by Sagat, AKI here crashed the scene to fill the void left by Juri, and so she gets to be not just completely 100% horrible (where as Juri is like, 70-80% horrible), but also SCARY in a way Juri never could be. She gets so, so much out of not being designed for sex appeal and coolness first and foremost, she's like the D'Vorah to Juri's Mileena.

She's a horrible, predatory character, and much like Marisa, I don't think she would have been allowed at all to exist the way she does had she debuted prior (you just know they would have not given her those sick ass pants or given her a different haircut or a cleavage window or something stupid like that). The development team for V repeteadly stated that there were ideas for a new assassin apprentice character related to Gen thrown around and that some of those made their way into FANG and Seth, and AKI is the end result of that very long refinement process. She's the resident freakshow character in the tradition started by Blanka and Dhalsim, and she's the outrageous over-the-top counterpoint to the more traditional martial arts like Chun-Li or even Jamie (much like Adon, or Necro). She's the understudy of the kung fu assassin villain, and in a way akin to Menat she's the young new apprentice of a prior character who acts as a stand-in for that character on the roster and driven to prove her worth before said character, while also being a modern do-over of said character.

(And for the record I actually like FANG quite a bit, a lot more than most of the other V characters. He played like garbage and his execution was lacking and couldn't make up for a terrible first impression in the fanbase, but the design and character and concept I thought were very solid and I'm glad AKI shows they didn't give up on it but took steps to improve on it, I'm glad to see him again in 6).

She breaks new ground for the series by leaning strongly into a horror wraith vibe no other character had before, and she's the Street Fighter equivalent to characters like Voldo, a horrible contortionist slasher villain who doesn't fight you so much as she just passionately and exquisitely butchers you while getting off on it. Her moves are incredible, superbly characterized, she feels vicious and oppressive to watch but still hits that note on FANG's where the playstyle is meant to be tricky but overspecialized and beatable at close range. And while she's designed to be a much more explicitly serious and deadly-looking character than FANG, they even give her goofy little flourishes like blowing bubbles shaped like FANG (and getting pissed if you pop them), his propensity for bird-like arms flapping, and an uncharacteristically childish victory dance akin to Chun-Li's.

She is as cadaverous as Juri is tempestuous, openly referring to herself as a ghost, and when she isn't losing her shit in contorting fits of laughter over success, she has a remarkably chill, upbeat disposition when spouting horrible things to the protagonist or fake poisoning them for laughs. She has an incredibly distinct personality more so than any especially developed inner life, and that's kinda the point: that she has wholly and completely sublimated herself to her role as FANG's tool, by choice and intent of her own, and that's part of why she's a real deal villain.

She was raised by him, she likes what he likes, she is obsessed with everything he is and has done and will do, hates everyone that isn't him, considers him her master and teacher and father and husband all in one, and her romantic fixation and love for him is meant to be deeply disturbing in every way imaginable (and only not a total dealbreaker for me because FANG in no way reciprocates or encourages it or is able to do so, even AKI understands as much), and that they may eventually have to kill each other doesn't deter her one bit.

Despite those surface similarities, there is quite a lot that sets AKI apart from Juri, chief of those being that Juri was victimized by Shadaloo and in response fashioned herself into an instrument of vengeance and turned monstrous as a result, where as AKI actively chose her life and chose being molded by someone else, running away from home and following FANG every step of the way without any regret. Even FANG himself had little choice in his own life, kidnapped as a child and forced to partake in horrible training under which every day could be his last, raised to value nothing but survival at all costs.

Perhaps this in itself is the strength that FANG saw in AKI, that she gets to choose and does so with far greater intent than even himself. That she's someone who could fully understand the horribleness of the Nguuhao methods and lifestyle and want for that and nothing else, to consciously partake in such grueling torture of mind and body and lovingly decide that she can't get enough of it.

And in itself this pairs interestingly with the very idea of giving FANG a dedicated protege sidekick, a character beat that the series has come back to again and again, and takes on an entirely different tone here. I think a lot of what makes AKI's obsession interesting to me in a way these usually aren't, is not just because it's creepy, but because it's ultimately sad and pathetic, and parallels FANG's own craven worship of Bison. It's such a great dynamic, a miserable cycle perpetuated by miserable people caught on the wrong side of that glorification of self-improvement, inner strength and the great heroes and masters who can pass it onto others that the series uses so frequently, and it makes AKI even greater as a character for it: because now we have a true dark mirror for the driving motivation of many of our characters. We have our fucked-up toxic counterpart to every Sakura, Mika, Menat, and Sean out there.

She sees him as he saw Bison and more, and the fact that she is much more threatening and overtly competent and scary than FANG is offset by the fact that worshipping Bison is a wholly different thing than worshipping, y'know, FANG. We comprehend, on some level, FANG's worship, because M.Bison is supposed to be, at minimum, a cool imposing megavillain we're meant to like on some level, which is certainly not true for FANG. SF6 has been very clear on that, that even though he's been given a much slicker outfit, and is keeping a low profile to plot from behind the scenes, this is still very much FANG, every bit the conniving, petty control freak from before.

AKI is a cool, hypercompetent death machine able to scare the pants off the main villain, and she labors desperately day and night, to the point of crying if she fails, to meet the approval of a ridiculous, pathetic man who, no matter how deceptively cunning or dangerous he may be, is only cool to her. Much of why I think FANG worked and was necessary in the first place was because he was designed around the vacuum left by the Four Kings and to contrast them, as what kind of man would it take to work himself ragged running Bison's schemes and being unfailingly loyal to him and Shadaloo, opposite Vega and Balrog's sporadic barely-there alliances and Sagat's outright betrayal. We needed an anti-Sagat, a proper bastard of a Number 2 to run the show in secret. And AKI adds a lot of poignancy to that in that she is much of what FANG can't be, even as she wants nothing more than to be like him.

It's one thing to have somebody who really looks up to and makes an effort to imitate the cool and impressive and heroic World Warriors, or someone influenced by imposing villains like Balrog or Sagat but ultimately decides to carve their own path. It's another thing entirely for maybe THE most obsessive protege character in the series, someone who actively has no identity outside of servitude to her master, to revolve around FANG, the dastardly bird man, who made his debut in a story by hunting down and melting an innocent woman, and grossly and animastically licking her ashen remains off his fingers. What kind of person would decide that this sickening, vile creep is deserving of worship and following until the ends of the Earth?

(art by @remy2fang)

Well, maybe the same kind of person who would consciously look at the likes of M.Bison in the first place, someone they intuitively understand "will reign death on all living beings", and upends their life on the spot towards becoming that man's eternal servant. Someone who seeks self-fulfillment through no other means than the pursuit of strength and knowledge as tools to subjugate others and appease their master. The darkest corruption of the master-student dynamic that defines so much of the series. You couldn't ask for anything more fitting, for the poison specialists.

#replies tag #street fighter #fighting games #capcom #a.k.i.#f.a.n.g #aki street fighter #aki sf6 #fang #sf6 #street fighter 6

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chloeangelic · 10 months

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Hi! I’m not back yet, because my motivation to write is unfortunately in shambles after this past week, and I have to get a few things off my chest before I want to come back.

Baselessly accusing people of copying will do nothing but push writers off this platform, either completely quitting or, at some point sooner or later, opting for putting their content behind paywalls. I want to make it very clear, again, that I will never copy or rip any other creators off, with writing, art or concepts. Thematic or artistic similarities ≠ copying. This is my rule: If I’ve seen multiple creators do something (moodboards, covers, other artworks, tropes, concepts), I might also do my own spin, but I will not do something I have only seen one creator do, because I see it as unique to them. I have learned SO MUCH from my favorite writers here - I’ve learned what’s needed for me to find a piece of writing interesting and compelling, as well as how to do that myself so I can also create something captivating based on my own visions and ideas. That’s called learning.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I’ve been accused of copying people I have publicly associated myself with on this platform, and it’s frustrating for me that nobody seems to go to ME first when they suspect it. Do you have any idea how awful it feels to frantically apologize to someone I’ve talked to for months, saying I’m sorry if people are pestering them and that I never want them to feel like I’m copying, then just sit and hope that their perception of me isn’t completely warped because some stranger decided they wanted drama? It hurts, I can’t lie. It makes me feel like I’m socially radioactive and that, eventually, nobody will want to have anything to do with me.

I appreciate the feedback on Seeking ch 1 SO MUCH and I wish I was able to take it in right now, but I still feel like garbage. It feels like writers are getting criticized and accused left and right, and either people hate your fics or they’re convinced you stole the idea from someone else. There’s a strange culture around here of hypervigilance around what might be considered copying, and I think people have forgotten that confirmation bias is a very real thing - if you’re looking for something, mental gymnastics will help you find it.

I do this for free, I spend hours brainstorming and writing, expecting nothing in return. I don't even have a ko-fi cause nobody has asked me to make one. What do people want from me?

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quirrelli · 1 year

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Quick and dirty Kiriko redesign

Main issues I tried to address:

The shilouette is pretty meh. It's not dire but at a glance/distance there is potential for confusion. So I tried to exaggerate notable features (hair, mask ears, hakama) and added a spear, like she has in some of the concept art. For one thing it looks cool and for another, it's been established through the Shimadas that these animal spirits are tied to a weapon and a spear fits in very neatly with a sword and bow.

The design is bland. (Which at least makes her fit in with the other OW2 default skins lmao). The first time I saw her I literally thought it was a D.Va skin. The idea, I would guess, was to merge traditional japanese clothing with modern day hip street fashion vibes and it just doesn't come together at all. Instead of enhancing them, all the aspects that should have visual impact are watered down. From her leggings to her face, there is no flavor; except in that trash garbage mask-visor nonsense. So I leaned into the traditional clothing, since leaning into the "hip young person" would just make her even less distinguishable from similar characters. I also tried to add some bits and bobs for flair (like the seals on her arms), just can't be bothered to really go into texture and detail atm.

Generic personality. This is more of a vibe thing than a character design thing but I want her to, at least at first glance, come across as a bit more cool and confident, maybe a little mysterious and just more interesting than the knock off Tracer/D.Va she turned out as. She can still be a bit of a goofball behind the mask but I feel her protector role demands that she can be at least a tiny bit intimidating.

That trash garbage mask-visor nonsense. My least favorite part by a goddamn mile. It just looks so fucking dumb and there's no way to make it cool; with its teeny kitten ears, dumbass white eyebrow triangles and perfectly flat bottom cut off. Again it's like mixing two things (naruto style ninja headband and kitsune mask) and ending up with the worst of both worlds. And you just know the reason she doesn't have a full or even half mask is because god forbid you can't see a female characters cute, utterly indistinguishable from the other cute 20-somethings, face. Fuck you, she gets a whole mask and it's badass.

Color. Her color palette has powerful "I'm 14 and this is my OC" energy. Actually, everything about her kinda has that, but the color palette especially. Now, I'm the first to admit that color isn't my strong suit either but even I can see some very obvious improvements. Like, why are her normal healing and her ult different colors? To me that's unnecessarily confused and looks bad, simply put. On top of that, they're yellow and cyan respectively, aka the most overused colors for glowy things ever. So I picked a yellowy orange bc it matches the fox motif and sets a nice contrast with the Shimadas' blue and green, just like the red in her outfit does. I incorporated some of that orange into her clothes as well, you know, for cohesion, and kept the green hair as a nice complementary to all the warm colors.

Feel free to make suggestions for improvements, might do a V2 eventually

#idk to me that already works much better and with some more finessing could be pretty awesome #kiriko is the first (and so far only) OW character I looked at and went “wow that's pretty fucking weak”#even the second worst design (Echo) is merely boring #my stuff #overwatch #ow2 #kiriko

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bokkiedoke · 4 months

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The BokkieDoke Unofficial Unbanned List

Is this whole list just an excuse for me to play Johnny, Combo Player? No, I promise.

Okay, we’re gonna keep this first part short and sweet. This is an article and list you can show to a playgroup to hopefully get them to allow you to play a small selection of Un-cards in formats like Commander. My criteria for whether a card should be banned.

1. Will some players not able to use the card easily?

2. Is it disruptive or annoying to your playgroup or surrounding people?

3. Will it cause the game to grind to a halt when resolving it?

If the answer to ANY of the three was yes, it was banned. Also if you just want to get straight to the Unbanned list, here you go. Yes this is the list of Unbanned Un-cards, because there is about as many cards that are banned as there are “legal” under my rules. And I found it is easier to look through a list of permitted cards and add the ones you like when the ban list is that big.

Some cards that might seem otherwise fine, like cards that reference art or expansion symbols, aren’t included. They can lead to bickering and confusion, which wastes time and frustrates players.

If you are the person reading this because someone else wanted to play some Un-cards in your pod, feel free to stop reading now. I hope you enjoy your game. The rest of the article is for people curious about the process of making the list itself and some of my choices that they may disagree with. Why is [X] Legal?

That's right Timmy, B.F.M. AND Infinity Elemental are allowed.

“Cast a copy of [Named Spell]” Cards – There is already a tournament legal card that does this (Garth One-Eye). Yes some of the Un-cards with this effect are more mentally taxing but I don’t think it is a significant enough difference to ban them here.

Some Weird Counter Cards – These cards require you to put special counters on them or place counters on specific parts of the card. I let some of them be legal, but only if they could easily be tracked in some other way and they don’t want you putting non-counter objects on the table. For example Baron von Count could easily be tracked with a D6 and doesn’t call for you to put your shoes on the table.

Some Word and Letters Matter Cards – The ones that are quick and easy to resolve are included, the ones that aren’t are banned in my list. I realize this is partially subjective, but my yardstick was “Would a group be annoyed if you resolved this multiple times in a game?” and “Who has to do all the processing to resolve it?”. Some more complex word and letters matter cards made it on the list of legal cards if the person playing them could calculate it all ahead of time or easily keep track of it mentally.

It Came From Planet Glurg – This really feels like an effect that would already be in the non-acorn pool if it didn’t have a couple rules wrinkles involved. I believe in most circumstances Glurg will be about as complex as other clone/copy cards. Doppelgang and Experiment Kraj existing led to me giving this a pass.

Clocknapper – The effect is definitely weird, and may lead to some awkward rulings, but since it is a single phase stolen once I think in most situations it will be pretty easy to resolve.

“Why is [X] NOT legal?”

"Aww shucks, I was gonna play all of those..."

Animate Graveyard – The potential mental overload from this card is absurd. Similar cards are legal on this list or legal normally but this is on average way more complex, and for just 5 Mana. Nobody but you is going to enjoy the aftermath of you playing this. And for the people that tend to avoid Un-cards, let's just ban this one so they don't get a bad first impression.

Topsy Turvy – Look, I love the idea of playing this card in Commander. But it is such a headache to deal with and I doubt many playgroups are gonna be down for figuring it out.

Everythingamajig, Ineffable Blessing, Garbage Elemental, Sly Spy, Very Cryptic Command, Knight of the Kitchen Sink. – Some of the versions of these cards work within my parameters, some don’t. To avoid confusion, I’m saying all of them aren’t allowed.

The Grand Calcutron – I think this card is very borderline, what pushes it over the edge for me is the amount of time it will take in the average game of Commander. At any table there is more than likely at least one person who takes a while to set up their “program” and goes into the tank with every single card they have to add to it. That's fine, I am that kind of person, but I'm banning it for that reason.

Oddly Uneven – I know a lot of “count the number of words/vowels/lines of text” cards are included in my list, but this one is going to slow the game down a LOT. Counting the number of words in the name of every creature will take a while, especially if you have token copies of named creatures.

Season’s Beatings – Once again, there are tournament legal cards that take this long to resolve but the bar for inclusion in this list is a bit higher because of the general wariness towards Un-cards.

Staying Power & Grand Marshal Macie – This is a rules headache waiting to happen but also just keeping track of it is a nightmare. You might think it can’t slow down the game that much but when the Macie player is spending most of their brain power keeping track of the affected cards and is also trying to keep track of all the repercussions of those effects, it’s gonna slow things down.

Frazzled Editor – Honestly the text box is such a mess on the card itself than I’m disqualifying it just for that.

Claire D’Loon – How do you do this without basically cheating if the cards end up in your deck? You sleeve up tokens in the same sleeves as your deck. Then you have to remove them all at the end of each game. Way too time-consuming even without all the rules headaches.

Vazal, the Compleat – This card effectively reads “When this card enters the battlefield, read Gatherer for 10 minutes. Then, you probably win the game.” in most games of Commander. No thanks. Rules Lawyer – As odd as it may seem, I think this one is also very borderline for me. But something that changes this many fundamental rules of Magic all at once just feels like it’ll lead to a lot of random blowouts because people forgot that X or Y is also a state-based action.

“Why Not Just Errata [Insert card here]?”

Pictured, Me, going through ~400 cards to errata them all.

I’m writing this article because I love Un-cards and I agree you should be able to play with some of them in Commander or other casual formats. Most of the players who refuse to play with them have some image in their head of dancing, bugging random people at your LGS, and headache inducing rules nightmares. And I know that is NOT the case for a good amount of Un-cards. (And you can thank Unhinged for most of the ones people hate!) But if you are already asking players to do something they are iffy about, adding a bunch of errata onto ~50% of the cards is going to annihilate your chances of getting them to agree. And I want you to be able to enjoy Un-cards with more people!

The Point Of This Article

Oh this? It's for just Maro, if he somehow ends up reading this. Hi!

If you can show your group a short article or video that gives a list of Un-cards that aren’t super annoying or wonky that you want to play they might be more likely to let you play with those cards. This list might not be a perfect resource but I hope it helps a couple more playgroups or game stores embrace the fun side of Un-sets. And it’s a lot quicker than laying 20 cards on the table and debating with your entire group which ones should be allowed every week.

#magic the gathering #commander #gaming #edh

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turtlemagnum · 6 months

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i think my first exposure to AI art might've been this video where somebody was testing out this new, weird thing where they automatically generate a song using AI, and i couldnt help but feel that it was an indictment of the modern music scene that a goddamn computer could effortlessly and accurately replicate the generic swill that passes for popular music nowadays. didnt have a vocalist synthesized yet but those have been becoming a thing too, or so i hear.

i saw a little article about how the newer generations of gamers are turning more and more to retro games. as somebody technically belonging to the "newer generations" this felt self evident, as frankly most of the gaming i do nowadays is almost invariably in an emulator. i think that to a certain extent, most of the best mainstream games that are going to be made already have been, at least for the forseeable future of major developers with games made scientifically perfect for milking you for the most money possible rather than as an art form. im sure it's all gonna collapse in on itself eventually, from what i hear some of the older folks who lived through more than i have we've been here before. hell, pretty much anybody who cares even a bit about gaming history knows first and foremost about the gaming crash of the early 80s, mostly spurred on by the temporal equivalent of modern cheap asset flip garbage that floods most stores these days. it's hard not to feel like we're about to see a massive crash yet again, with the ones inheriting the earth being the little fellas, and of course nintendo. which, makes sense, their earliest history is of weathering shit just like this, of course they'd know when to spot enshittification and stay clear of it. i'm in no way saying that nintendo is exempt of being a shitty corporation, but i will say that from a business standpoint they're one of the only ones i know of that actually seem to understand the idea of sustainability on a broad scale. hell of a lot better than the likes of activision, thats for damn sure. but back to what i was actually trying to get at before i adhd tangent'd, i think it makes a lot of sense that when the majority of the shit being put on the market is corporatist, design by comittee, prefab trash with aggressive monetization and a consistent attitude of fixing any problems in patches, it makes a hell of a lot of sense that we'd go back to our roots. NES mario is the same as its ever been, has been for over 30 years, and will be in another 30. you dont gotta worry about them patching it to make it actually function as advertised, or patching it from being something you enjoyed into something you hate, or having fomo marketing based microtransaction bullshit. the most that's gonna change is that every now and again, nintendo will make the only version they give not have flashing lights for epileptic folks, or patch out mike tyson because he sucks and replace him with a white guy, and the white guy's less hard but thats ok because it's still pretty hard, and either way it's a good game, fun, and you can still find the original on rom sites and also probably ebay if you dont have a vpn but do have a disposable income, so dont worry about it. getting sidetracked again, ANYWAYS-

what i wanted to get at is that i wonder if we're gonna see a similar resurgence in other old kinds of media just like, in general, for the mainstream. like why watch the 22nd reboot of ghost busters when the originals are right there. king crimson's still good, why dont you listen to them instead of bemoaning how your new favs are problematic, even though i dont think fripp can reclaim the fag slur (im gay, i can it's fine). i've recently been watching fist of the north star and original dragon ball, ilike the m. there are books. lots of those, actually,. you can read em! if you have the attention span. i honestly think we might be seeing more and more of this, now that im looking out for it. like i see just like, random people mention how much they like prog rock or 1930s dracula. relatively normals talk about how they like lemon demon these days. those stupid aestheticized classic anime accounts on twitter get sososo many likes. can you tell im sleep deprived writing this? i can, and im writing thjis. im writing this SO HARD. send poast.

#turtle hall of fame

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a-mag-a-day · 2 years

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MAG 68 - folding laundry

"Thanks for letting me do this. I mean, I know you let anyone record a statement. That’s why you’re the Magnus Institute!" - Shots fired, haha xD

"Never had the academic chops to get access to your library or anything, but when all those statements were leaked back in ‘99" - <.< I wonder if it was a coincident that the Magnus Institute in Manchester burned down in 1999 in the Magnus Protocol or if there is any connection to this incident.

"So I’m kind of an artist. I like to use the detritus of mankind’s time on this planet to craft its own reflection back at itself, you know? So I take what others consider garbage and use it to send a message to the puppetmasters and fat cats who hold our lives in the palm of their hand and play with our society like a chess game. A message of art. You know what I’m talking about." - Actually I don't… and I graduated art school. So, does he take trash, make it into art and then sells it to rich people? If they don't consider you a super duper artsy-genius with a famous name, they probably won't care.

"And when you’re making art, you don’t need to be picky. If something’s not perfect, you can make it perfect. You use the beauty inside of you to reach in and pull the beauty out of the object. Sometimes by breaking it more; sometimes by repairing it just enough. And, once, by setting it on fire." - Oh god, that statement-giver sounds like my art teachers…

"I think his name’s Gus. Or Al. He looks like a Gus or an Al." - -__-

I just wanna say Jonny is playing this self-centered, overly confident art guy on speed extremely well. My brain is constantly trying to shut down.

"Don’t know who owned it before, might have even have been a library copy but the sticker was mostly torn off." - lol

Is there static during the passage from the book?

"I asked the corporal for his name, and was told that that was Private Amherst. Fitting enough, I remarked, that he should be named for a dealer in smallpox" (/later in the post-statement segment "Another point is a link that Treeves brings up which I had not considered, that of Jeffrey Amherst, an 18th century baronet who is most remembered for deliberately providing blankets infected with smallpox to Native American tribes during the so-called French and Indian Wars, leading to a devastating epidemic.") - So here's the thing. I didn't know there was an actual Amherst (Jeffery instead of John, but still) with a history in using diseases as weapon. In Austria we learn about prehistoric times, antiquity (a lot about Romans), medieval times, Renaissance, (everything about Central Europe and Mediterranean region) industrial revolution and then we learn 3 years about the first and second world war. I have almost no knowledge about the History of Britain. Even less the US, especially not in detail. I know that there was a discourse about using the name of a rl historical figure who actually did a lot of harm.

I love how these are stories withing a story within a story XD

"Be careful carrying it, though, those old pages are kind of sharp." - Oh no…

"Insects and disease. No clear connection, other than the fact that they somehow feel similar. They both make one feel distinctly unclean." - And that's all there is. It feels right. There is no clear line between the Fears. I love how this works! Soft magic systems are such an underused concept that can work so, so well!

"I’m in the tunnels. I was exploring and I got lost." - LMAO

"There were a couple of spiders, so I changed routes and found, I think it’s a gas main." - <.<

"I didn’t prepare for – AAH" - Jon getting scared is extremely funny! That little scream xD

NOT!SASHA "Hard to focus." / JON "The place plays odd tricks with your mind. When I saw Sasha down there, for a moment it was like I didn’t recognize her. She seemed… far too tall somehow." - Hmmm, so do the tunnels also affect other Fears? It's well known that it blocks the Eye, but the Not!Them also seemed to have a hard time? On the contrary the Corruption seemed to have had a field trip down there, the worms were faster and quieter in the tunnels, which was better for them to get to they prey.

Hmm the corruption getting stronger down there is an interesting question. What powers get lost in these tunnels and what powers are more potent? Is there consistency in how they are affected?

#a mag a day #tma #the magnus archives #episode asks #mod ashes #tma spoilers #mag 68 #lycanlovingvampyre

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pixelrender · 2 years

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Top 10 games I missed in 2022

This was in many ways a transformative year. Or maybe that’s an overstatement and 2022 was end of an era. It followed a long term trend of me playing games less and less. I haven’t played a game on Steam since January. With that a maybe even some time prior I stopped paying attention to new releases. Until yesterday. Yesterday, I succumbed to the calling of Steam winter sales and visited my wishlist. I noticed that it was slightly messed up, because some of the games got released. After that I spent several hours looking for new releases and here we are. I admit It’s different, because many of these games are titles I’ve only found out about them being released.

Ofc, this year was massively, more than any of the previous years, influenced by board games and board game media. But getting around to actually buying some board games, I found out that the new hotness is rarely what I’m after. So, there are only 3 board games from this year I would like to own and 2 more I would like to try and write about (Stroganov’s take on colonization of Siberia could be made way better if it took a simple lesson from my n. 1 game). The three board games differ from each other a lot and video games on the list are reasonably diverse too. There are narrative experiences, Metroid and Castlevania inspired games both with jumping and without and free games I haven’t got time to try out yet. I also have one honorable mention: Victoria 3. Normally, this probably would make the list, but I don’t know enough to be excited and I’m still happy with my older Paradox games and I don’t need new ones (also, I know that Victoria 3 is beyond capabilities of my half-dead laptop).

10. Maptroid: Worlds

This is a commercial follow-up to a free game, you can still find online (not sure if flash?). It looks terrible, music probably does its job. It’s also an original and interesting take on the genre of Metroidvanias. It requires at least basic knowledge of the genre to get it and to appreciate it too. Because in Maptroid, you play on the minimap only. You explore and move around. The pacing is fast and that makes it fun. The commercial version promises more and that’s exactly what I want. Also, It’s only 2 bucks and some change.

9. Infernax

At first this looks like a straight clone of Castlevania but there’s more to it. There are choices and different endings. If you watch any footage of Infernax and like the genre of non-linear platformers you know the game is fun. It looks difficult with good controls and smooth movement. The fiction full of crosses and demons is something I can appreciate. The look is appealing too. A must play in a surely coming year of non-linear platformers.

8. Haiku the Robot

The third and final game of jumping and exploring on this list. Haiku is by far the most stylish one with beautiful sepia tones and detailed modern pixel art. It also looks like the most expansive one with many bosses, interesting puzzles and original lore. I’m afraid it might be too difficult as Hollow Knight seems to be a source of inspiration here. But without this baggage it looks like a fun and tight addition to the genre. One more thing, I like haiku.

7. Three Sisters

The first board game on the list is a heavier than average roll and write about tending to vegetable garden. The main reason this is here is the production. These warm pumpkin colored dice are just attractive and the whole game feels warm and welcoming in the similar manner. The game itself is about rolling dice and using them to tick boxes and form combos. Or if you go for the theme, and I think you should, planting seed, harvesting fruit and veggies, crafting in your garage. And that might be quite lovely when rainy and you can’t manage your garden for real.

6. Sunset Shift

This free game is about collecting and disposing garbage at a small private island. I watched some footage of it and it looks right up my alley. Basically, you drive around and the other friend is talking to you via radio giving the whole thing subtle story beats. I also enjoy games with either social or environmental message and this one seems to have both.

5. Glitchhikers: The Spaces Between

The original free Glitchhikers was one of my favourite cruising games. In it you drive on a highway while having random dialogues. This one expands it in all directions and adds many new environments and means of transport. I wonder about the message. Is it more than just more volume? Anyway, because of the original this one is on my bucket list too. Also, it’s the first game with no green or greenish pictures.

4. Citizen Sleeper

Frankly, I don’t quite understand what Citizen Sleeper is supposed to be. It’s a cyberpunk science fiction rpg controlled by dice, so there’s this tabletop element. Also, it seems to be focused on social issues, equality and such. You’re a working person and that reminds me of Cart Life, one of the greatest games ever. Jump Over the Age also made In Other Waters, an exciting UI experience I haven’t played yet but It’s one more reason to be interested in this game.

3. Village Rails

It’s a small and crunchy card game about building tracks with bucolic tones. The second part of the Village series from Osprey and designed by Matthew Dunstan with Breet J. Gilbert in a little unassuming box with a pleasant blue frame. It got praised by all of my board gaming sources including Dice Tower, Shut Up and Sit Down and Board Game Barrage. The game’s almost a filler but the combination of different goals and a special puzzle makes all decisions crunchy. For me it looks like a kind of game I would enjoy.

2. Roadwarden

Out of the green and into the brown. Roadwarden is a game I’ve been interested for a while. I think it does something interesting and that the devs limited themselves well to make a bigger game. The illustrations in this game look great too. I feel like I might enjoy its bleak fiction too. Being this highwayman and delivering messages, burning bodies sounds mundane, but also super atmospheric.

1. John Company: Second Edition

John Company is an unwieldy game from Wehrelig Games and Cole Wehrle of the Root fame. It’s complicated and long and an experience I want to have. I even managed to watch most of the five hours long session of Heavy Cardboard streamed on YouTube. In the game you and other players run the titular company and exploit India in order to get yourself a good retirement. The second edition tweaked almost everything and it looks great with one of the nicest board and components I’ve ever seen. Also, John Company: SE Is clear with its message and criticism of colonialism through its mechanics, something games like Stroganov ought to learn from.

All of the pictures used in this article are either from official sources or posted by the publisher at BGG(Village Rails).

#maptroid worlds #infernax #haiku the robot #three sisters #sunset shift #glitchhikers #roadwarden #village rails #citizen sleeper #john company

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mi5018tomberry-compositing · 7 months

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AI and the Animation Industry

During the lecture I took a few notes for the debate trying to balance out pros and cons for AI in the present and future.

youtube

A few weeks prior to the lecture I had watched this video about AI whilst looking for something to educate myself about the current state of AI and what it could mean for the future and for me. Its very sensationalised, especially in the introduction, but it is a chance to hear the concerns and beliefs from a prominent figure in cutting edge AI. Mo Gawdat worked for Google X as a part of the team developing Google's AI and he sits down to discuss how he got into that field, why he left it and what his concerns are for the future. Mo is very dramatic and pessimistic which could be a means to sell his book 'Scary Smart' to the viewer and this puts a bias on all of his arguments throughout the video to shape the narrative which will sell the most books. Regardless, it is fascinating and quite concerning to hear someone from the cutting edge of AI tech refer to it as an independent conscious entity. AI has progressed exponentially and will continue to do so despite the looming threats that it poses and those at the forefront's reasoning is if I don't make this someone else will, in another country or another organisation so I might as well work to ensure that my country's AI is the best. "If I don't someone else will" has compelled the greatest minds in the past to race with one another to reach the finish line before anyone else and be the first one to open up Pandora's box. The aftermath of the last box being opened is still felt in Nagasaki and Hiroshima and it seems that the world is once again locked into another race into the unknown and as individuals we can only hope that this race won't end with another nuke in the face. But all this doom and gloom won't get us anywhere because right now we have the chance to steer AI towards a brighter future for all parties. Right now at our fingertips we can generate whatever we want with a few words, its unprecedented but there is so much potential to make any old garbage to your heart's content. So pull your head out of the sand and start shitposting AI generated memes, all these oracles predicting the future really don't know anything concretely all we do know is that AI is here to stay. We didn't blow ourselves up last time who's to say we will now? Maybe the jobs we know today in the arts will all disappear but they'll come back in a new shape or form.

This video shares a similar sentiment and also provides us with an opportunity to see just what can be made with AI. When CGI came along practical effects artists suffered for a time but there is still a time and a place for them even today, undoubtedly there will be a shift but if you hide yourself away and spend your time poisoning data sets you're just going to fall behind. I've rambled enough now and I'll let you be the judge if this stream of conscience made any sense. Maybe the jobs we hoped we'd get from this course won't be here in ten years or even five years but we're all in the same boat, every industry will change in the wake of AI, it is Ford's assembly line all over again; a new age of automation, I hope we can all keep up.

#Youtube

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mi5018tomberry · 8 months

Text

AI and the Animation Industry

During the lecture I took a few notes for the debate trying to balance out pros and cons for AI in the present and future.

youtube

#Youtube

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craftyballoonluminary · 10 months

Text

10 Facts About louis vuitton outlet That Will Instantly Put You in a Good Mood

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#replica bags online

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mypoisonedvine · 3 years

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𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

#baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo x reader #helmut zemo smut

2K notes · View notes

talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

Flowers 4+1// ashton irwin oneshot

A/N: this is my first ever 4+1 fic so I’m kind of nervous, thank you Angie @littledrummerangie for the idea! This is also SUPER indulgent as being a birthday fic for me and a birthday fic with Ashton😅 since mine is the day before his. This has everything I love in it, flowers, hot tubs, a cabin, christmas, love… This is 4 times Ashton gives you flowers and 1 time you give him flowers

Word count: 6k

Masterlist

Enjoy!💕

*****

One

The first time they met was when Andy and Sarah invited Ashton to help her move into her new place. The movers basically set all the boxes and furniture into her house and then left her to her own devices. She called Andy and Sarah for help and if they had any reinforcements it would be greatly appreciated.

She was trying to find wine glasses when there was a knock at the door. When she opened it she had to look up at her guest. His copper brown hair fell in waves and necklaces hung perfectly down his neck, his hazel eyes were bright and friendly.

First, she noticed how good looking he is and the second thing she noticed was the mason jar filled with orange and peach flowers.

“Uh, hi can I help you?” she asks suddenly feeling very self-conscious of her ratty t-shirt and paint splotched shorts.

“I’m Ashton and I’m your honorary mover,” he smiles. “Andy called me. You must be Y/N.”

“Must be. I mean--yes, I am! And oh, right, wow. Sorry, please come in and thank you for helping,” she says, moving aside to let him in.

“Yeah, of course. These are for you,” he holds out the mason jar. “A housewarming gift.”

“Thank you so much,” she smiles, taking the flowers with both hands. Their fingers brush. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

“Really?” his eyes bore into hers and she’s momentarily frazzled.

“Apart from my mom or grandpa but...um, I’ll put these in the kitchen. Andy’s in the bedroom putting the bed together if you’d like to help in there.”

She escapes into the kitchen where Sarah is wiping down the fridge.

“Who was at the door? What pretty flowers!”

“Your friend Ashton and he gave me these,” you touch one of the roses before burying your nose in the plumage. The petals tickle your nose and the scent is wonderful.

“He’s sweet like that,” Sarah smiles. “Did you find the glasses?”

“No,” Y/N huffs, setting the flowers on the counter by the sink. “They’re probably in the bathroom or something.”

“We’ll find them.”

The four of them continue working on unpacking and it isn’t until about 10 o’clock when Andy and Ashton enter the living room.

“The bed, vanity, and dressers are all assembled,” Andy announces wiping at his brow.

“We’re the poor man's Avengers,” Ashton laughs. “We put the bed in the middle of the wall and the vanity next to the window. Best lighting to do make-up.”

“That’s...perfect actually, thank you guys,” Y/N smiles, balling up the newspaper and shoving it in a large garbage bag. She just finished placing her books on the shelves, she’ll sort them later in the week.

“We were thinking of getting pizza,” Andy says.

“Pizza sounds great! Here, I’ll give you some money--”

“No, my treat,” Ashton says, “you’ve been working hard.”

After eating pizza they all went back to unpacking and Ashton made comments about the art pieces she has. He asks where she wants each one hung up.

“You don’t have to do that, I’ll put them up later,” she waves her hand at him.

“It’s my job as honorary mover,” he grins.

Midnight came upon them sooner than she would like. Andy and Sarah headed out because of Pebbles, she’s been cooped up all day so it was just Ashton and Y/N. He asked questions while unpacking to get to know her better and he was very open to her questions.

He stayed until 3 in the morning but he made sure to get her number before he left. She took a photo of the flowers on the counter before going to bed.

Two

She changed her outfit about a dozen times. Her bed was covered in discarded clothes and she still had to put on her makeup. The clock on her wall ticked reminding her that Ashton would be here in a little less than an hour.

It’s been six months since he helped her move in and in that time, they became close. He showed her all of the best coffee shops and bookstores he knew of. He introduced her to the rest of his band and they accepted her kindly.

She accompanied them on outings, parties, and Ashton always made sure to stick close with her. He knew she was shy around new people so he always made sure to include her in conversation.

One night when he was walking her back to her door after going to dinner with the band and their significant others, he was acting strange. He was unusually quiet and she’d find him staring at her across the table.

“So, I’ll see you Monday, right?” she asked, shuffling through her purse for her house key.

“How about Saturday?”

“This Saturday? I thought we were going to try that new restaurant Monday with Andy and Sarah?”

“I mean, we can do that, too but I was thinking...Saturday could just be us. You and me.”

The air changed between them and she stopped looking for her keys. She turned to face him but she couldn’t quite read his expression.

“Oh, okay. Did you want to watch that new movie on Netflix?”

“Y/N, I’m trying to ask you on a date here,” he laughed nervously rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Ask me on a...you are? Oh God, and I’m ruining it. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize--”

“You could never ruin anything,” he smiled. “But, would you like to go on a date with me this Saturday?” his hazel eyes were hopeful and Y/N couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“I’d love to Ash,” she smiled.

And now here she is, half naked and indecisive on what to wear. She shouldn’t be freaking out like this, it’s Ashton. But it’s also *Ashton. Ashton who can always make her laugh and he makes her feel safe and they always have fun together. But it’s also Ashton who gives her butterflies whenever he touches her lower back and her heart race when he gives her a hug.

Her phone buzzes and it’s Ashton letting her know he’ll be there in forty-five minutes. She lets out a loud groan and goes back to her closet, maybe a new article of clothing she’s never seen will just reappear.

To her astonishment, there was a maroon dress that she wore to a wedding.

“Might as well,” she sighs and puts it on. It really doesn’t look half bad as she looks at herself in the mirror.

She rushes to put on her makeup and by the time she spritzes on her perfume, the doorbell rings. She checks that she has everything in her clutch and moves to the door.

It’s like a deja vu moment from six months ago because he’s handsome as ever and holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. His necklaces are perched perfectly in the V of his white button up shirt and it contrasts nicely with his skin. These flowers are full of pink and white flowers with a hint of peach thrown in there. The ivory paper crinkles when his fingers squeeze it, his eyes widen at the sight of her.

“Wow, you look...wow.”

“You’re pretty wow yourself,” she giggles then glances at the flowers. “Are those for me?”

“Um, yes,” he holds his hand out, the flowers bumping your chest. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she laughs, taking them from him and buries her face in the center of it. “They smell wonderful, thank you so much. I’ll just put them in water and then we can go.”

He follows her into the house, she doesn’t see him glance down at her ass in the dress. He’s rubbing his neck again when she looks at him getting a vase from the counter. She fills it with water and arranges the flowers.

“So, where are we going?”

They’re sitting outside the restaurant, it’s a warm breezy summer night. The rustic atmosphere feels comfortable but when she flicks her gaze at Ashton over the drink menu, he’s drinking his glass of water heartily. His other hand is tapping against the table, it’s a thing he does when he’s nervous.

“Thirsty, huh?” She tries to ease his unusual activity and he shakes his head.

“Yeah, throat’s a little dry,” he clears his throat just as the waitress comes by.

She takes their drink order and Ashton requests a pitcher of water if it’s available. Their roles are reversed, she’s the one doing most of the talking and he’s the one who’s listening. She can tell he’s still being reserved so she takes out her phone and points it at him.

“Smiiile!” She sings turning on portrait mode.

“Why?” He laughs nervously but it makes him smile so she snaps the photo.

“Because, the lighting is perfect and you look cute,” she flirts with a smile.

Ashton laughs again but it’s his real laugh, the laugh that always gets her laughing. She snaps as many photos as she can and it seems to have done the job of making him act like himself. Even though they’ve hung out nearly everyday, the evening still had the air of a first date.

They even tried each other’s food. She stabbed her chicken and noodle with her fork, blew on it, and fed it to him across the table.

“Wow, that is really good,” he hums in approval. He swirls his own noodles on his fork and feeds her slowly.

“That sauce is amazing,” she moans, loving the lemon flavor.

They share a dessert of chocolate mousse and split the strawberry. After dinner, he took her to the art museum. They're open later in the summertime. There were only a few people meandering in the open space and standing stagnant in front of pieces.

“This is why I wanted to bring you here,” he says, taking her hand easily in his own.

Her butterflies returned and he lead her all the way to the back. It was a Claude Monet exhibit and she tried to look at the paintings but Ashton was on a mission to a certain piece. He stops in front of it and she stares in amazement at the painting. It’s of Claude Monet on his boat. She gasps, staring at it and Ashton is staring at her.

It’s the painting she tried to replicate when she was younger in her art class. It’s the painting that introduced her to Monet because the style was similar and it always stuck with her. She told him she wanted to find the painting when they first met and stayed up until 3 in the morning.

“You remembered this?” she asks, stepping closer to it. She makes sure their hands are still locked together, his thumb is rubbing her skin in soothing circles.

“Your eyes always light up when you talk about things that matter to you. They’re always so bright when you talk about him...and when I give you flowers.”

“Ashton this is…” she shakes her head at a loss for words. She gazes upon the painting, loving the visibility of the palette strokes and the blending of the colors. Tears formed in her eyes. “This is the best thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she wipes the stray tear that slipped from her eye.

“Hey,” he says softly. His fingers graze her cheek tilting her face towards him.

His thumb rubs at the leftover tear, his own face inching closer to hers. She closes her eyes, exhaling when his lips brush against hers. He squeezes her hand, his lips controlled and gentle yet also hesitant. As if he’s testing the waters.

They unabashedly makeout in front of the paintings and in her mind she’s thinking of what they look like to an outsider. Still life man and woman lost in each other.

Three

The holidays arrived faster than she wanted them to. She still had a ton of shopping to do for her family but at least her flight is scheduled. Ashton is accompanying her on the trip and she’s so excited for him to meet her family.

“Make sure you aren’t doing anything the weekend before the holiday,” he tells her unravelling lights from her box of Christmas decorations.

“How come?” she asks searching through the tv for the claymation movies she loves to watch.

“That’s when I’m going to give you my present.”

“You need a whole weekend to do that?” she laughs.

“I won’t say anything more than that,” he smirks at her.

“I can help with that--”

“I got it sorted,” he waves her off, “you enjoy your movies.”

“Have I told you you’re the most amazing boyfriend?” she wraps her arms around his waist. Ashton shifts the lights into one hand so he can hold her against him with his free hand.

“You’ve never told me that,” he grins and kisses her.

“I’m sure I have,” she mumbles between kisses. Her hands slip under his shirt, thumbs grazing over his warm skin causing Ashton to grunt at the contact.

His hand rubs up her back and into her hair, he breaks the kiss with a shaky breath. “Let me finish putting these lights up and we can get back to this, baby.”

“We could get to this faster if you let me help,” she stresses, pinching his skin. “You never let me do anything.”

“You do plenty, baby,” he smiles, kissing her forehead.

She sighs and retreats to the couch curling up to watch the movie and Ashton wrap and weave the lights around her tree. Two and a half movies later he was finally finished and turned the lights on. The white light reflected on her wooden floor and she beamed at his job well done.

“It’s perfect! Thank you!” she throws her arms around his neck in a big hug.

“My pleasure,” he chuckles and kisses her temple. She starts to give small kisses to his neck, featherlight and ticklish on his skin. “Get outta here, you know I’m ticklish.”

“What are you gonna do about it?” she teases continuing her small attack of affection.

Ashton shifts her in his arms making his way to her couch and drops onto the cushions. She situated herself so she’s straddling his waist. His hands smooth over the curve of her ass while his lips suction kisses along her jaw and to her neck. She shivers at the contact, tugging at his curls when he sucks a mark.

“This is what I’m gonna do about it,” he says gruffly and rocks her against his hips.

“Okay,” she sighs, enjoying his mouth on her neck and the bulge in his pants rubbing against her core with each rock he makes her do. She moans when his hands move to her thighs and gives her a squeeze.

Needing more of him, she drags his head away from her neck so she can feel his lips on her own again. She rolls her hips against his without his help and his hands slip under her shirt, moaning when he feels she’s not wearing a bra.

“Damn, baby,” he growls cupping her breasts together. He tweaks her nipples and she squeaks in his mouth. “You like that?”

“Feels good,” she nods nipping at his lip. His phone rings and buzzes in his pocket, the vibration adds another element to her arousal.

“Leave it, they can leave a message,” he pants, sucking another kiss from her.

His phone stops ringing only for hers to start on the coffee table behind them. She breaks the kiss and turns around trying to see the caller ID.

“Leave it,” he repeats, squeezing her breasts again.

“It could be an emergency,” she reaches for her phone to see it’s Sarah calling. “Hello?” She picks it up staring at Ashton and he smirks, lifting her shirt up. He takes her nipple between his lips and she scowls at him. “Oh, that was tonight? Um, yeah he’s with me. We’ll be right over. Okay, yeah…” she sighs when his teeth tug on her nipple. “See you soon.”

She tosses the phone to the couch and tosses her head back relishing in his mouth on her sensitive bud for a moment longer. Their physical relationship is progressing slowly, they’ve almost had sex three times (now four if Sarah hadn’t called) but she likes the pace they’re going at.

“We need to go to Andy and Sarah’s,” she strokes his cheek curling his hair around his ear.

“Why? I’d rather stay here,” he shifts his mouth to her other breast, his tongue rolling over her nipple salaciously.

“Mm, me too but it’s their Christmas party tonight. And we’re late by two hours,” she snickers, fingers still tangled in his hair. She has goosebumps from what his mouth is doing to her.

“I’m sick, can’t go.”

“Ashton!” she laughs pushing his head away from her chest. “We won’t see them until after the holiday. Come on, let’s go.”

She crawls off him, turns her tv off and changes her top, and puts on a bra. When she comes back Ashton is still sitting on the couch. She leans over the back of it next to his head.

“Do I have to drag you off this couch?” she murmurs in his ear.

“I need a few moments,” he huffs, shifting his legs.

“Oh,” she giggles, seeing exactly why because he still has a prominent bulge in his pants. “I’m sorry. Can I help?” she kisses down his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

“You helped make this problem,” he laughs, turning his head to kiss her lips.

The Christmas party was a hit and it’s the weekend before Christmas. Y/N was awakened by Ashton petting her hair and kissing her cheek, he used the spare key she gave him for emergencies.

“What a way to wake up,” she smiles, pulling him on top of her. His strong arms are caged around her head and his body weight makes her feel protected.

“Your coffee is all ready, now you just have to pack and we’ll be on our way.”

“No breakfast in bed?” She traces his eyebrows.

“I can make you breakfast in bed tomorrow*,” he nuzzles his nose against hers. “There’s a present by your coffee mug if that will help you get your cute ass outta bed.”

Then his weight is off her and she’s left scrambling out of bed to follow him into the kitchen where her coffee is already in her to-go mug with a card and a bouquet of red roses and cranberries inside to make it more of a holiday special. He’s standing next to the small gifts with a grin on his face.

“I love these, they’re so pretty,” she gushes, lifting the bouquet to her nose. She loves the sweet smell of a rose.

“You’re so pretty when I give you flowers,” he comments, lifting up the red envelope.

She holds the flowers against her chest and unfolds the envelope. Inside is a white card with writing formed in the shape of a Christmas tree, a star placed on top. The words read:

“TO A

KIND

STRONG

BRILLIANT

SO BEAUTIFUL

AND TRULY AMAZING

GIRLFRIEND”

Ashton wrote his own inscription inside in his nice loopy script:

‘The past year with you has been one of the best of my life. Our friendship was the perfect foundation for a relationship and I can’t imagine what my world would be like now if you weren’t in it. So this weekend, it will just be me and you in our own little cabin, no interruptions. xx Ash’

“A cabin?”

After the 2 hour and 40 minute flight to Seattle, she and Ashton arrived at the cabin where a dusting of snow covered the ground and a wreath was on the door. Y/N was floored at how beautiful it was and Ashton took her hand leading her up the wooden steps. He took a key out and unlocked the door.

It smelled like cinnamon and Ashton with cozy couches and armchairs, a large rug in front of a stone fireplace and a massive kitchen with a grill attached to a chimney. A Christmas tree was set up with presents scattered underneath and there was a large bouquet of roses on the kitchen table.

“Ash…” she begins and then can’t find more words.

“There’s more, c’mon,” he smiles, leading her up the winding staircase and into a loft area where a futon was and empty bookshelves. There were a few guitars on stands placed in the corner and some incense sticks. “What do you think?” He leans against the railing and Y/N ventures into the room.

“I think it’s wonderful, but there aren’t any books. Is this someone’s cabin and you’re renting it? I can chip in--”

“No, no. It is someone’s cabin...mine.”

She whips around from looking out the half circle window overlooking the backyard where she saw another grill and some chairs.

“This place is yours?”

“Yep. I come here when I need to get away and just let my creative ideas flow. You can fill the bookshelves if you’d like.”

“Ash this is…” she shakes her head then launches herself into his arms for a hug. “This is incredible. And we’re here the whole weekend? Just us?”

“Just us, angel,” he nods, rubbing at her back. “There’s also a hot tub.”

His voice changed at the mention of the hot tub because she didn’t bring a suit.

***

Ashton’s plan for Friday evening was to unpack and go into town for a nice meal. After dinner, they changed into their sleep clothes and snuggled on the couch with hot chocolate watching the first Home Alone movie because they’re her favorite movies. Her mind was on that hot tub and her stomach twisted with excited nerves at the thought of using it. She wanted to use it now but her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth each time she tried to bring it up.

She was also thinking of how this would be their first time sleeping together. Ashton never stayed the night because he didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. She found it sweet but it also increased her infatuation for him even more.

When she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore, he had her lean on him while they walked to the bedroom. The bed was huge with a large comforter and even fluffier looking pillows. It looked heavenly and she slipped inside willingly. She rolled over and became awake again at the look on Ashton’s face.

She tossed over the blanket on his side of the bed and patted the space below the pillow inviting him in. He crawled in carefully and shut the lights off and they were in darkness. Ashton remained sitting against the headboard and Y/N reached out for him in the dark. His forearm was warm and soft.

“Are you going to sleep like that the whole night?” she whispers, giving his arm a squeeze.

“No,” he whispers back, sliding further down the bed. Her hand now rested on his chest, she could feel his heart beating. He turns on his side clutching her hand in his. “Is it weird I’m nervous? I feel like I’m fifteen.”

“You first slept with a girl at fifteen?” she laughs.

“No, I meant--being around girls at that age made me nervous,” he chuckles.

“I’m nervous, too. But in a good way. Just warning you, I’m a kicker so I apologize in advance.”

“Why are we still whispering, we’re the only ones here,” he says, raising his voice to a normal level. That only makes her giggle more.

“I don’t know, it fits the mood with you regressing back to fifteen years old. Our parents could walk in at any moment.” She scoots closer to him, so close that she can feel his breath fan on her face.

“I hope they don’t,” he murmurs, inching closer in the dark until he finds her lips. It’s a tender kiss, the kind of kiss that took her breath away slowly and made her heart smile.

She keeps him close with her hand pressed to his cheek. They kiss and talk in hushed tones until she falls asleep and Ashton tickles up her back until sleep finally finds him, too.

Saturday morning did indeed include breakfast in bed. Ashton made pancakes, bacon, coffee and a small bowl of fruit. His itinerary for the day consisted of lounging around the cabin watching holiday movies and then he was going to make her a steak dinner. She insisted on helping him in the kitchen amidst his protests.

“I’m not a good cook but I’m a very good listener. I’m your sous chef.”

“What does ‘sous chef 'even mean?” he asks getting the ingredients out of the fridge.

“It means ‘under.’”

“Ah, so you’re under me, huh?” he winks.

“Let me help you cook and I just might be,” she challenged with a smile. Ashton shakes his head, a slight blush rising on his cheeks.

She followed his instructions with the garlic and mashed potatoes. The dinner was exquisite paired with a delicious white wine. They each had a full glass, their bellies full and face warm from the wine, they were extra giggly and extra flirty.

“How about that hot tub?” he asks, circling the rim of the wine glass with his finger.

“Did you pack a suit?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Nope.”

“I didn’t pack a suit either,” she points to her chest.

“Must have slipped my mind,” he gulps the last swallow of his wine, eyes on her.

“What a shame.”

He sets his glass on the table and takes her hands in his, his eyes looking almost apologetic. “You can wear a t-shirt and shorts. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He kisses both of her hands.

“Go get the water ready.”

Twenty minutes later, she walks out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel and Ashton is already in the water. His arms are resting on the sides of the tub, his face even redder from the steam, his eyes hold hers steadily.

The confidence she had in the bathroom is gone. She wanted to come out here and just get in the water completely naked, but now she’s nervous because what if she was reading the signs wrong? What if he doesn’t really want to have sex with her?

“Um, can you close your eyes while I get in?” she asks.

“‘Course,” he closes his eyes.

She takes a deep breath dropping the towel. The air kisses her skin and she climbs up the steps carefully. The water is hot as she descends into the tub, she bends down so only her head is exposed above the water. Ashton remains still and she inches closer to him until their knees touch.

“Hi there,” he smiles softly.

“Hi.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”

First she nods then realizes he can’t see her so she clears her throat. “Yes.”

He opens his eyes slowly, and they look so pretty in the nighttime sky. He’s looking at her like he’s staring into the full face of the moon, his eyes are full of wonder and adoration and her confidence starts to rise within her.

The longer he looks at her, the more bold she becomes and she rises up from the water. Her breasts are completely exposed. Ashton licks his lips, his eyes lowering over her wet chest. She doesn’t want to break the spell that’s cast between them so she moves towards him slowly, her hands rest on his shoulders. His arms remain on the sides of the tub.

“Ashton.”

“Yeah?”

“Touch me.”

In a flash, his lips are on hers and she’s pressed to his chest. His large hands cover her back, one dips over her ass and she gasps when she feels his hard-on against her thigh. He lifts her effortlessly in the water so she’s straddling him.

Instinctively, she rubs herself against him groaning at how he rubs against her most sensitive area perfectly.

“Need you,” she whispers against his mouth.

“Bed,” he gasps.

They exit the tub excitedly, drying off as quickly as they can and she presses herself against him in front of the bed. Their bodies are warm from the tub and he lifts her in his arms again. She loves feeling his muscles wrapped taut around her, he knees onto the bed and stays there. Their arms are wrapped around each other and they remain kissing.

“Do you have something?” she asks, pulling away to catch her breath. She twists his chest hair in her fingers.

“Um, yeah. Shit, hang on,” he sighs, slipping her back onto the bed. She watches him appreciatively as he skimpers to the kitchen pulling his coat off the hook.

“You have a really nice butt,” she compliments when he returns with a condom in hand.

“Thanks, babe,” he laughs then stops at the foot of the bed staring at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asks suddenly self-conscious.

“Nothing. You’re perfect.”

She smiles and pulls him on the bed with her again, connecting their lips. He rips open the condom and rolls it on his length. He kneels on the bed again and she’s quick to climb on top, moaning at his shaft rubbing between her folds.

“Such a pretty moan,” he praises, grasping his cock in his hand. He teases her hole with his tip, nudging it inside a few times. Her lower body meets his in a desperate way, small gasps coming from her each inch he goes in deeper.

“Please, Ash...want all of you,” she knocks her forehead against his.

He takes a deep breath and pushes all the way in, his eyes watching her as her mouth opens and her eyes close at being filled. Their bodies tremble together and they remain still, experiencing being connected for the first time.

“Good?” he asks, rubbing her nose affectionately.

“Mhm,” she nods and starts to roll her hips against him. “Ohhh…” she lets out a shuddering breath.

He follows her rhythm easily, arms wrapped around her, enjoying the way she rides on top of him. He kneads her ass as she moves, her breath picking up and when he can’t take it anymore, he rises on his knees, her legs fall on either side of him and she gasps.

He rests her on her back gently, resting his chest against hers so that they’re still touching and rocks his hips in even thrusts. He slips his tongue in her mouth just as her legs wrap around his waist. She moans when he picks up the pace, her lower half meeting his thrusts perfectly.

“Are you close baby?” he pants feeling her walls start to flutter around him. “So good for me...so perfect...taking me so well.”

“Don’t stop,” she moans tilting her head back. Ashton pounds into her faster, each time he thrusts in she clenches around him a bit more tightly.

“Fuck…” he hisses when she clenches and stays that way. Her moans are loud in his ear and he always wants to be the one that makes her sound like that. He can’t hold his climax off with her sounding like that and he’s coming with her. “I love you,” he groans loudly in her neck.

When they recollect their breathing she holds his face in her hands.

“What did you say?” she gasps out, eyes wide with lust and surprise.

“I love you,” he breathes, stroking her temple with his thumb. “You don’t have to say it back, but I wanted to tell you that this weekend, too. It’s hard for me to say out loud and with just us--”

She kisses him fiercely.

“I love you, too.”

Four

When she went to work there was a flower arrangement at her desk with a note from Ashton wishing her a great last day before her vacation for her birthday and his birthday. Hers was the day before his and everyone wanted them to do a joint party when they found that out.

“No, that’s weird,” she scrunched her nose at the suggestion.

“Yeah, we aren’t siblings. That’s gross,” he agreed.

She took the week off for their birthdays so they could maybe go to the cabin or even rent a house on the beach. She loved her birthday but whenever she made plans, they always fell through or people never showed up.

She texted him that the flowers were beautiful and she couldn’t wait to spend the day with him the next day. When she got home, he was already there wearing an all black outfit with his shirt open. He knows how much she likes seeing his chest.

“Thank you for the flowers,” she holds up the vase of pink peonies showcasing them. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Kiss me first,” he puckers his lips at her.

“Oops, sorry,” she giggles and steps on her tiptoes to give him a kiss. They always kiss each other hello.

“Now, go get changed. We’ve got plans,” he grins.

“What kind of plans?”

“Look on your bed and see,” he nods to her room down the hall. “I’ll put these in the kitchen for you.”

She shakes her head and does what he says. On her bed is a dress she always ogled when they were at the mall, Ashton clearly bought it for her. He spoils her too much. Next to the dress is a black satin blindfold. She narrows her eyes at the blindfold but quickly changes into the dress.

“What is this for?” she asks, stepping out into the living room with the blindfold in her hands.

“For your eyes. Turn around.”

“Are we roleplaying?” she asks, turning her back to him.

“No,” he laughs, placing the fabric over her eyes.

He helps her walk to his car and she’s asking him so many questions. He refuses to answer them and laughs at her outlandish predictions of taking her away to a private island.

His hand is firm in hers when they’re walking to wherever they’re going. She stumbles a little because she doesn’t know the terrain but it feels like pavement under her feet.

“Are we there yet?” she asks.

“Almost. Okay, there’s a few steps. Up, up, up, up, and last one. Good. Okay, I’m going to take it off you now.”

She feels him move behind her. He unties the blindfold slowly and it drops from her eyes. She blinks slowly to get used to the light and is met with all of their friends and family before her. There’s flower arches behind them and they’re all wearing flower crowns on their heads.

“SURPRISE!” They shout and she gasps when they start to sing Happy Birthday.

Sarah wheels in a cake with flowers sprawled over it and her name in the middle. Y/N grasps Ashton’s hand in her own, tears forming in her eyes. His other arm wraps around her waist, his chin rests on her shoulder as he sings softly in her ear.

“...dear Y/N...Happy Birthday to you…”

She wipes at her eyes overcome with emotion from the surprise and that Ashton went through all this trouble.

“Make a wish, angel,” he murmurs in her ear.

She closes her eyes, thinks of a wish, and blows out the candles. Everyone cheers and she twists around to give Ashton a big kiss. There’s even more cheers for that and then she’s whisked away for hellos and hugs. Flowers are hanging from the ceiling like vines and she’s never been surrounded by so many flowers.

“Were you surprised?” Sarah asks as a waiter starts to cut the cake.

“Totally surprised. But my birthday isn’t until tomorrow,” she gives Ashton a side eye.

“You told me you wanted to spend it with me, so your party with everyone else is today,” he smiles.

“And all these flowers? I love it all so much, thank you.”

“Your eyes will have that shine all night,” he grins, kissing her nose.

One

“Do you even know where you’re going?” Ashton laughs behind her as they trek through the woods by the cabin.

After her surprise party, on her actual birthday they spent the first half watching movies and the second swimming at the beach. They had a late flight to go to the cabin. Upon arrival, Ashton spent the last hour of her birthday pleasuring her with his mouth and fingers. When the clock struck midnight, she flipped him over with a smirk.

“Happy Birthday to you,” she whispered and slid down his body so she could please him.

She loves hearing his moans just as much as he loves hearing hers. She loves how one hand is fisted in her hair and the other rests behind his head watching her go down on him.

“Yes, I know where I’m going. Come on birthday boy.” She ducks under a branch then sees the clearing ahead.

“I’m twenty-seven, I’m not a boy,” he grunts.

“Sorry, old man,” she teases and he smacks her ass playfully.

When they come into the clearing, there’s a red and white checkered blanket in the grass with a large basket in the center. Wildflowers surround it in purples, yellows, oranges and a few reds. It’s a magical place.

“Did you do all this?” he asks seeing the set up.

“I did. Come on, there’s more.”

They kick off their shoes and sit on the blanket. She opens the basket taking out his favorite foods and a wrapped gift.

“I told you, you don’t have to get me anything,” he sighs while taking the gift. “You’re more than enough.”

“I know, but it’s part of my love language. And it’s homemade anyway,” she shrugs. “Open it up.”

He unwraps the corners before tearing the paper all the way off. He stares at it in his hands for a long time. She made him a shadow box frame with a picture of them when they were at the beach during sunset. It was their favorite picture and surrounding it were dried flowers.

“Do you know what these are?” she asks, pointing to the flowers.

“Flowers?” he chuckles touching the glass.

“This one is from the first flowers you brought me when you helped me move in, these are from our first date, this is from Christmas and the small cranberry. These are from work and my birthday, and these are from Valentine’s Day. These are all the flowers you’ve given me,” she smiles and he looks at her stunned.

“You kept them all?”

“You’re the only one who ever bought me flowers and I loved them all so now you have them, too.”

“This is incredible, I love it. Thank you,” he reaches over to give her a kiss.

“Wait, there’s more,” she grins and reaches into the basket again. She pulls out live flowers arranged in a pretty bouquet. “These are for you.”

“Baby,” he stressed in astonishment and set the picture frame next to him.

He pushes her back on the blanket kissing her with all he’s got. The flowers get crushed and some stick in her hair but they’re surrounded by love and the sweet smell of flowers and kiss with passion.

“Happy Birthday my love,” she gazes up at him and sticks a flower behind his ear.

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#ashton irwin oneshot #ashton smut #ashton irwin smut #ashton irwin fluff #ashton fluff #ashton oneshot #ashton 5sos writing #5sos writing

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mollrat101 · 3 years

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Hacks Appreciation Week

Day 1: Favorite Scene

I would have to say the scene that most made me want to stand up and cheer and felt the most satisfying every time I watched it was Deborah demolishing Drew on stage in episode 8.

After all the heartbreak we, as an audience, now know Deborah has been through (including all the sexual harassment and assault she’s had to face) it’s incredibly satisfying for Deborah to finally have her moment to say “you know what? no more. fuck this shit.” and rightfully destroy this piece of shit man who thinks it’s in any way acceptable to joke about drugging a woman and sexually harass other female comedians and just generally be a garbage, talentless human being.

Deborah has usually just kept on trucking regardless of how much things bothered her or unhappy they made her, but this is the moment she breaks. When she’s done just powering through shitty treatment. Great character arcs are usually defined by them realizing that the power they had to change their life was always within them. Deb is there now.

For so long, Deborah has bit her tongue about the terrible sexist treatment she’s experienced in this industry because, understandably, she doesn’t want to paint a target on her back, again. Even to the point that she perpetuated sexist jokes herself.

To me, this moment, is Deborah fully coming back to herself. The Deborah that showed up in that club was similar to the woman we saw in the unaired late night pilot but this time sharper, more shrewd...and this time, she’s not alone.

But it’s also the fact that that this scene isn’t just Deborah’s alone that also seals it for me. The intense intimacy of Ava starting to realize that Deborah took what she had to say to heart and her being the first one to realize what’s going on. It just again speaks to the intimacy of the relationship between performer and writer. There’s something special about being the person in the audience who knows where the joke comes from. I also think this is the moment in which Deborah fully became someone Ava truly admires.

Something I will maintain to my dying breath is that Ava Daniels is a good person and one of the things I most admire her is her concern about justice. It’s obvious, even though she like everybody else isn’t perfect about it, that she wants to do the right thing. She’s sensitive, empathetic and compassionate. Ava reminds Deborah of her moral values and how she could maybe use her art for good too. That is incapsulated in this scene.

I think in a more wider sense though this was the first scene that it really hit home for me that Ava and Deborah’s relationship might not just be good for them personally and their close circle...but that it might also be good for the world. Some of my most favorite couples, one that practically transcend into something even greater, tend to be ones that seem to have or had a potential for a great destiny: Jamie and Brienne from A Song of Ice and Fire, Zuko and Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender. Couples who’s shared values and commitment to doing the right thing in a world full of injustices make them become legendary. People would remember them, sing songs about them, their stories would become myths.

Am I saying that Ava and Deborah are on that level?

I think they could be something like that and this scene explains why.

It was the devastating look on Deborah’s face right beforehand realizing that her individual success was admirable, yes, but unfortunately systemic sexism is going to continue if people in the industry don’t speak out. For so long, Deborah was so vulnerable but now she’s clawed and fought for the success and power she’s gotten and she finally realizes maybe she can use it for good. Just like she had wanted to do in 1976. Her dream didn’t die then, it was just delayed for a long time.

But Deborah can’t do it alone. And I think along with being artistic soulmates, they may just truly be soulmates (romantic or not, in the end) in that the two of them together have almost a greater life purpose that they can only achieve together. To me, this is the moment that I feel might genuinely be the most Lily Tomlin and Jane Wagner moment they’ve had so far. Two complimentary halves of an artistic soul who use both of their strengths to both entertain and to promote their values in their work.

Ava is the set up and Deborah is the punchline. Ava has the strong moral compass and writerly insight, and Deborah has the confidence, the experience and the wit to be able to get people to listen.

It is this scene that made me realize they maybe Ava and Deborah’s future as a couple (fingers crossed) might not be confined to just personal fulfillment...but to greatness. It is this moment that I think we see the best potential for Ava and Deborah to become comedy legends.

Will that happen?

It remains to be seen and maybe they won’t, but this scene makes a damn good case for what could be possible.

#hacksaw22 #hacks hbo #hbo hacks #deborah x ava #hacks thoughts

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therenlover · 3 years

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Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

A/n: In the wake of recent life garbage, I have neglected to write a whole fic, and I’m sorry. In the interim, please enjoy this writing exercise I have put together in the hopes of nailing some characters I haven’t written for in the past in time for a larger project I’m working on! Cheers!

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, and Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Mild Misogyny, Mentions of Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Mental Illness, Non-Graphic Mentions of Death, Minor Spoilers for The Alienist Season One, Minor Spoilers for Goodbye, Lenin!, Spoilers for Rush (2013), Minor Spoilers for The Cloverfield Paradox maybe??? I haven’t actually seen the whole movie, blame Wikipedia if things are wrong.

Laszlo Kreizler

As the first of all of the Dannys to be put through the ringer, Laszlo Kreizler unfortunately would not survive a holiday with my family.

First of all, this man does not like massive huggy kissy crowds, so he’d already be off his game the second he walked into the packed house. That’s not why he’d die though, surprisingly.

His downfall would be his status as an Alienist.

There is simply so much mental illness and childhood trauma present at my family holidays that he would combust within 15 minutes of sitting in a room with all of my relatives.

Even if he were to somehow make it past the introductory phase, my family is nosey as hell, so they’d be grilling him about his arm and his own childhood trauma within the first hour.

Laszlo, for all of his strength, simply wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

His death wouldn’t come from the initial combustion though. No, it’s not that simple.

Knowing Laszlo, once he had combusted and entirely lost his composure the first time, he would become extremely intrigued about the interconnected nature of everyones issues with each other and he would start asking questions.

That’s where the problems would begin.

Because it’s one thing if my drunk great aunt starts badmouthing her sister at the table for abandoning her 90 year old mother for a lake house with her new boyfriend. That’s fine.

But when Laszlo hops in and starts picking apart the mommy issues and underlying reasons for their decades long sibling rivalry?

Oh it would be over for him.

The yelling would never end.

And, I have no doubt that Laszlo would start to psychoanalyze whoever started to yell at him, which would only lead to more yelling.

In the end, someone would throw a probably full and probably fresh out of the oven casserole dish at his head and he’d be unable to defend himself because of his weak arm.

We’d have to cart him out in a wheelchair and even if he were to technically survive, he’d never come back.

Therefor, Laszlo Kreizler would fall victim to my family and die before we even got to dessert.

Alex Kerner

YES

Ah, little baby Alex! A great contender here for holiday survival.

He seems relatively young in comparison to most of the Dannys on this list, though I don’t actually know how old he’s supposed to be.

Based on his relative youth, he would automatically get points with the fam for not seeming like a creep or sugar daddy. Instead, he could be just about any dude I brought home from college.

His skillset as a semi-skilled laborer would also earn him some points, seeing as several members of the family are in similar professions.

Alex might get lost in some of the more complex conversations about the local organic scene or the fine details of running a fine art gallery, but he would fit right in with the majority of the younger members of the family, smiling and nodding his way through the conversation.

His enthusiasm and optimism would brighten the room and leave everyone excited to see him around again.

There’s also the semi-small detail of him caring for his mother, which would earn sympathy from the older members of the family as they are in charge of caring for my deaf, blind great grandmother.

Now, all of these aspects have already set Alex up for a successful survival of a holiday dinner with my family, but the real secret weapon he has up his sleeve is what really cements him in place as a survivor.

What is his secret weapon, you may ask?

Lies.

Alex Kerner is really, really good at lying, and is even better at figuring out increasingly convoluted ways to keep his lies straight.

If he managed to hide to fuckin’ Berlin Wall coming down from his mother for as long as he did, he could keep a couple of white lies up for appearances if he was asked any potentially embarrassing or weird questions that would make him look bad.

He could also lie about enjoying my great aunt’s cooking, which is a vital skill for holiday survival in my family.

Therefor, at the end of the day, Alex Kerner would not only survive a holiday with my family, but he’d probably enjoy it and get invited back for every subsequent holiday he could possibly attend.

Niki Lauda

Niki is another Danny that falls very firmly into the category of characters that would absolutely not survive a holiday with my family, for many, many reasons.

First of all, just like Laszlo, Niki is not huge on going to big huggy kissy parties.

Both adults and children would be all over him the second he walked in the door, which would probably make Niki get very uncomfortable and cagey.

Little does he know at that point that people aren’t just all over you when you get in the door.

No, no, no; from the moment you show up to the moment you leave, if you’re at a holiday with my family you are being basically accosted with questions and hugs and conversations that get weirdly personal.

It doesn’t help that the whole entire house is packed and there are eyes on you at every moment, so he wouldn’t even be able to sneak in a break for air or a cigarette.

If my own mother can’t sneak out for a smoke when she’s been going to these events her whole life, the new guy who’s still being vetted by the family sure as hell won’t be able to either.

Needless to say, Niki would start to get really, really tired of it all in an hour tops. I’ll give him until dinner at most.

That’s where things would start getting really sticky.

See, a lovely little fact about the Niki Lauda that lives in my brain, as portrayed by Daniel Bruhl in Rush (2013), is that he’s just a little bit misogynistic. No more than would be period typical, but a little misogynistic.

Another fun little important thing to note is that my family is entirely matriarchal in nature.

There are only 4 reoccurring male guests at family holidays out of about 20 to 25 guests at each event; My great aunt’s husband of many, many years, the two male siblings my mother has that live in the area, and the young son of one of those siblings.

Men, specifically boyfriends, simply do not last in my family. They are considered pretty disposable and easily banned from family events after breakups or small mishaps.

So, not only would Niki not have any other manly men there to chat about sports with over a scotch and a cigarette, he would be surrounded by so much estrogen that he would definitely struggle with his inner asshole even more than usual.

In fact, we never have sports on, even on Thanksgiving. Poor Niki would be stuck hearing conversations about artisanal candlemakers and how to hand felt a woodland elf puppet.

Back to his downfall, the second he made a slightly sketchy joke about women in the kitchen at the dinner table to my great uncle, his fate would be sealed.

If you thought the yelling at Laszlo would have been bad, this yelling would be ten times worse, because he would be surrounded by like 20 very angry, very defensive, and very strong women waiting to beat the shit out of him and I would not be any help.

He dug the hole, so he can climb out of it.

In the end, his death would come when he tried to light a cigarette and calm himself down at the dinner table while trying to rescind his earlier statement, because smoking inside around all the precious textile art? Thats a big no no.

My great aunt would grab the lighter right out of his hand, light up whatever cocktail she had at the moment, and throw it all directly into Niki’s face.

It would be like crashing his car all over again, only this time he would be surrounded by people who would rather he burn than try to get him out of the situation.

Moral of the story, Niki would die within the first few hours of a holiday with my family because he made an asshole comment to a room full of women who don’t put up with that shit. Don’t be like Niki, even if you think you won’t get killed for it.

Andrea Marowski

YES

Andrea is pretty much the polar opposite of Niki here, and I love him for it.

He is very soft, very kind, very pure, and would never dare to say something rude at the dinner table like a certain racer we all know.

He couldn’t even say something rude if he tried to, because he probably wouldn’t have the English in his vocabulary to say the things he wanted to say even if he intended to say them out loud.

But let’s be honest here, Andrea would never.

Even with his limited English, Andrea would appreciate being surrounded by a whole bunch of people who think he’s the sweetest little thing since the invention of cake.

My great grandmother, despite being almost entirely blind and deaf, would say he looked darling and he would immediately be a member of the family from the moment he stuttered out his thanks.

Andrea, like Alex, is also relatively young, so he would get points for not being old enough to be my father.

I feel like, because Andrea was shown living happily in a tiny village by the ocean with two old ladies, he would have an appreciation for craft, so he wouldn’t mind sitting quietly as my great aunt pawns off a handmade blanket from my great grandmother to him.

He would also happily sit with the younger children and do whatever craft or simple game one of my aunts brought for them that time.

The cherry on top with Andrea is his skill with the violin.

My family is one that appreciates fine art a lot, but more than anything we appreciate music.

I wouldn’t say that any of us are anywhere close to Andrea’s proficiency, but we definitely aren’t terrible, and we all can appreciate the effort, practice, and talent that goes into getting truly good on an instrument like Andrea is on his violin.

He would be encouraged to play, of course, and he would happily oblige.

If he felt comfortable enough, I could even see my great uncle grabbing his guitar, my cousin sitting at the piano, and my sister bringing out her own violin to do a little quartet with some simple song they knew as everybody else sang along.

By the end of the holiday evening, once dinner was served and people were heading to the cars, Andrea would definitely be considered a member of the family.

Needless to say, he’d survive and pass their tests with better than flying colors, even despite the language barrier.

Ernst Schmidt

Now, Ernst was probably the most difficult one on this entire list to put into the living or dying category. In the end, though, there were a few things that couldn’t be overlooked that send him into bad territory.

To be fair, though, he would last the longest out of everyone who would die tragically at one of my family’s holiday gatherings.

He, like the past two victims, would not be exactly suited for the mushy crowding that’s inevitable when it comes to my family.

That being said, I think he would deal with it a little bit better than the other two did and would make polite conversation with the family when he could.

The fact that he was trapped in a packed house filled with drunk people who have several generations worth of beef with each other, though, would start to get him eventually.

If we consider all of the shit that happened while he was in space to be canonical minus, you know, the earth getting really fucked up, he would probably start to go a little bit nuts while packed together with that many passive aggressive people.

The second someone burst into tears on the way to the bathroom he would start to lose his shit.

Still, I think Schmidt would probably be fine-ish until dessert was served, because that’s about the time where all the adults are absurdly drunk, so insanity ensues.

They would start poking at him about his credentials and experiences as a physicist.

He would answer their questions at first, but, unfortunately for him, the questions would turn more and more personal and uncomfortable as time went on.

Did he ever still think about what happened up in space? Did he blame himself for not getting things to work correctly? How much did he miss his old world and old life? Did he ever have nightmares about what he saw? How much did it hurt to get shot?

They’d poke and poke and poke in their drunken state until poor Schmidt would snap at them, flying into a slight rage at their insistent probing.

From there, he would be swiftly asked to leave and then “accidentally” run over while calling an Uber to take him to wherever he’s staying as my drunk great aunt tries to back out of the driveway to drive down the block to her house.

In the end, Schmidt and his wit would be really close to surviving a holiday with my family , but he would, unfortunately, let his anger get the best of him, and it would be the last thing he ever did. Literally.

Helmut Zemo

YES, BUT ONLY BARELY

Okay, so my earlier comment about Ernst being the most difficult out of everyone was incorrect. Zemo was, by far, the hardest to put into one category or the other.

His wit and charm won out in the end, though, and I determined that he would survive one single holiday with my family.

If he ever came back for a second he definitely wouldn’t make it, but he would succeed in living past the first one.

Helmut’s problems start, surprisingly, not with the fact that he is a criminal. In fact that doesn’t even cause any problems for him.

No, instead they start with the fact that he is 43.

I am 99% sure that my mother is 43, and I know for a definite fact that he’s older than one of my uncles who would be present. I, at the time of writing this, am 18.

Needless to say, literally everyone would be massively suspicious of him and his intentions the second he walked through the door. The amount of money in his bank account definitely wouldn’t help in this situation either.

The family would warm up to him eventually, though, because if there’s one thing Helmut is good at besides killing people, it’s making people like him even if they absolutely shouldn’t.

With his expansive knowledge of what feels like literally everything rich and niche, he would slowly win over the older members of the family. Who knew the strange old man Jac brought home was so well versed in the American pottery scene, or that he could name specific jewelry artists from across the world that my family had done business with for years?

My family definitely wouldn’t. At least, not at first.

Oh how they’d learn, though.

Another nice thing about Zemo that would allow him to survive is his aggressive politeness.

No matter how many weird glances or dirty looks he got over the course of dinner, he would simply continue to be the best version of himself in the hopes of impressing everyone.

He would even pretend to enjoy my great aunt’s cooking and get himself seconds, because I’m sure it would be easier to scarf down than whatever he and his EKO Scorpion squad had to eat while serving in the Sokovian special forces.

On the tail end of reasons he would be accepted, Helmut Zemo drinks alcohol like it’s water, so he would fit right in drinking white wine and cocktails through the night with the rest of the adults.

((I think he’d totally tease me about not being able to drink with him, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways...))

His slight downfall would come from something entirely uncontrollable by him or anybody else.

And that something would be my flirty aunt.

I love my aunt. She’s wonderful in her own special way.

That being said, I know if a hot Sokovian baron with a nice smile and a fat pocketbook showed up to one of out holidays, even if he was introduced as my partner, she would be going for the kill all night long.

This would make Helmut more and more uncomfortable as she got more and more drunk, because lets face it, he’s probably not very comfortable with being touched by near-strangers anyways, and being touched by a drunk member of his partners family who is very obviously coming on to him?

That’s even more difficult to deal with.

That being said, Helmut is a man who has been shown to be extremely in control of his emotions.

He would swallow down whatever awkwardness he felt, make it to the end of the night, and, once he had escaped her clutches, he would politely say that he was never going back to another holiday function with my family again, though he would be happy to facilitate me still attending them.

So, in the end, Helmut Zemo would survive one holiday with his sheer stubborn politeness alone.

I will say that his patience would absolutely wear thin if he attended a couple more holidays and he would eventually die of a stress induced heart attack after being unable to politely decline my aunt’s advances.

For now, though, he’s safe.

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #niki lauda #andrea marowski #ernst schmidt #laszlo kreizler #alex kerner #jac rambles #imagine #the danny bunch

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