#Series by Breadbox

[dittydipity]

what is kagepro? - a quick guide

you may be seeing the word "kagepro" around a whole bunch, especially during august, but what the hell is it?

you may have heard or seen something from kagepro without realizing it! you know that vocaloid song, kagerou daze, about the kids who get hit by a truck and are stuck in a timeloop of saving each other? that's actually one of the songs from kagepro.

kagepro, short for the kagerou project, is a series created by vocaloid composer jin (also known as shizen no teki-p). it's a mixed media series that has music, manga, an anime, movie, a radio talk show, books, etc but i’ll try to keep it simple!

basic premise: people who die on 8/15 are taken to another world called the kagerou daze and if they return to the real world, they will have gained a “snake ability” that will turn their eyes red when used. a group of teens that have these abilities form a little gang but are thrown into an endless timeloop.

THE MEDIA

if you want to get into it, there’s a bunch of different ways you can do it, but do keep in mind: each form of media is NOT just a different adaptation of the story.

kagepro is a timeloop story, and each form of media is actually a different timeline (or “route”). the music videos, the anime, the manga, the books - each one is only a piece of the whole story. that’s why many people may have seen the anime, mekakucity actors, and gotten super confused because the anime is actually one of the last routes haha.

but the order of media that has been generally agreed upon to be the most coherent is music videos -> manga -> light novels -> anime

a lot of kagepro media, esp the light novels and manga, are hard to find since they’re almost entirely out of print, but there’s translations or e-book versions of them available, or if you skip them there’s summaries that people have made. you can also ask me if you want :]

music videos

i’ve actually made a couple playlists for the songs! one is in release order and the other is in story chronological order (mostly).

release order: - i tried to get all the original ia/miku versions of the songs with the original pv if there was one - a couple might be a little out of order since some songs came out together in the same album

this is the order that fans got the music, so if you want to try to figure things out and put things together the way we did you can go with this order!

chronological order: - tried to grab some english covers where i could, but if you don’t like eng covers there are plenty of noneng covers or you can use the videos from the other playlist. there's plenty of really great covers out there! - exceptions to the “chronological”: children record acts as the cover/opening song for the series and summertime record is the ending song for the series - some songs aren’t in here bc they’re not part of the music route (they’re mostly from the newer albums and are kinda like ‘epilogue’ songs after the ending of the anime/good ending or are songs made for the anime)

THE STORY

if you don't want to go through all the media yourself, here’s a video explaining the whole story by breadbox/david toth! he also has other really great kagepro videos

[a bit of an extra] a very common misconception about the story/mechanics: people do not have to die in pairs or with somebody else on 8/15 to enter the daze. i didn’t realize this myself until super recently

all in all, the kagerou project is a story about finding strength and support from the people around you, moving on to look towards the future, and overcoming trauma.

there’s definitely other people who have also made guides or summaries or videos that are much better and cover much more than i did, but i hope this was a decent introduction!

feel free to reach out and/or ask me anything! i'm sure there are also plenty of people who would be willing to help newcomers understand kagepro as well :]

happy kagerou day!

#feel free to add on or correct me if i got anything wrong! #i did try to keep this more to being about how to get into kagepro so i didnt cover the story as much #kagerou project #kagepro #mekakucity actors #.d #* #Youtube

[breannasfluff]

Winter Interlude - 1

All of the boys are familiar with snow. After so many adventures and eras, it’s a given to be equipped to deal with the cold. 

Yet there’s something different about waking to find a layer of white softening the landscape, while inside a cozy house. 

Ravio must have risen early and stoked a roaring fire. The heat of it fills the rooms and halls through a series of cleverly enchanted pipes. Given the nature of bowerbirds, built for tropical temperatures rather than cold, it makes sense. 

The nest is warm and cozy as Legend wakes, despite the lack of Ravio in it. Through the nestroom window, he can see the mound of white on the sill, reflecting sunlight. Snow. 

At his side, Hyrule burrows into him without going anywhere. Wild is draped around Hyrule, his larger wing acting as a blanket over the brown thrasher. Legend’s wings may be bigger than the traveler’s, but his thinner feathers don’t have the same insulation. 

The bowerbird shifts to stretch and Hyrule gives a small grumble, rolling in search of a better pillow. 

Wild automatically lets his flockmate curl into him, giving a sleepy chirp of comfort. One eye slowly blinks open to peer at Legend, who gives a reassuring coo. Settled, the magpie goes back to sleep. 

Legend extracts himself from the nest and finds a change of clothes. Here at home, he can pull on loose, warm pants and a slouchy, open-back sweater. It ties at the base of his spine, but he leaves the straps swinging free. The sweater stays on—barely. 

The comfortable heat of the nestroom isn’t lost as he steps into the hallway and heads toward the kitchen and living room. 

He pauses by the fire, radiating heat where it’s built into the bricks, and watches Ravio for a moment. 

His flockmate trills to himself as he putters around the kitchen, pulling out cups and setting out tea. There’s a pot of coffee steeping to the side. From the breadbox comes a variety of pastries and rolls for the table, laid out buffet style. 

Meat buns steam juice as Ravio pulls them from the oven to put on the table. There are rolls with shiny beetle carapaces decorating the top to appeal to Four and Wild. A fish mousse from the fridge for the seabirds. A jar of cream—fresh, given the frothy yellow at the top. Apples are front and center on the table, but so are a multitude of other fruits. Cheeses and jams are tucked throughout it all. 

The air is heavy with the scent of hot food and fresh coffee, underlaid with the sweet smell of wood smoke from the fire. Beneath Legend’s feet, even the tiles are warm to the touch. 

Ravio slides plates on the end of the table and looks up as his bowerbird counterpart pads in. 

Good morning, he trills, forgoing words. 

Morning, heart-of-mine, Legend answers. His cheeks still pink with the indicator call, but both birds proudly wear each other’s feathers. 

“Look outside,” Ravio says and joins Legend as he moves to the kitchen window. 

Snow covers the landscape; a foot at least, and more still drifts down. The garden is hidden, as is the lawn; smoothed over by the blanket of white. There are no sharp edges, only curving slopes with shadows of blue and grey. 

The morning sun, still rising, sparkles off all of it. The few trees in the backyard are laced with ice and dusted in snow. 

“It’s beautiful,” Legend breathes. 

Beside him, Ravio hums and reaches under his feathers to grab the errant ties of his shirt. “It is. I’ve got a lovely breakfast spread for the flock and more to heat up when everyone is ready. Eggs and bacon to start, unless they need something else?

Legend shakes his head, still taking in the pristine landscape. “It looks and smells wonderful, Rav. They’ll love it.”

Ravio finishes off the shirt tie and leans into his side. Their wings bump as the bowerbird presses a soft kiss to Legend’s cheek. “Love you,” he whispers to the ear tilted his way.

Even the beauty of the winter landscape won’t draw Legend away from his flockmate. His hands find Ravio’s waist, fingers sliding under his shirt to stroke soft, plush skin. 

Legend pulls the merchant into his chest and, despite being similar heights, Ravio is languid enough to melt and look up at him. The vet traces the faint freckles on his face and the flecks of purple in his eyes. The small, slightly upturned nose—like a bunny, he said once. Sweet pink lips, just slightly parted. 

Well, if he’s going to look like temptation, there’s no reason for Legend to hold back on kissing him. 

Read the rest here!

#Winter Interlude #lu wing bois #linked universe #linkeduniverse #ravioli #ravio #ravio x link #raviolink #ravio x legend #lu wild #lu legend #lu ravio #lu hyrule #lu four #lu wing au #breannasfluff #my writing #ravioli ship

[simsycatx]

House Tour: 715 Falls Park Drive

Watch the House Tour

2 Bed 2 Full Bath Mudroom Coffee Nook Walk in Closet Price: §117,301 Lot Size: 20 x 20

Occupant: Jennifer Smallwood

CC/DLC List below along with my ramblings/notes on the build too :)

Gallery ID: SimsyCatx - tick to show custom content and use bb.moveobjects

I wanted this home to be super cosy with "Live Love Laugh" vibes. Very much decorated with a feminine eye with lots of cute B&M/Best Buy/cheap & cheerful clutter decor.

I have play-tested this and it all works except the two bathroom sinks because the sinks aren't designed for those counters. I'm guessing the counters are too high which puts the sinks too high to use. I did try to play around and try and get it working but couldn't manage it. It doesn't bother me (it kinda eliminates the dishwashing in the bathroom) so I left it for the ✨ aethestic✨ but they can easily be replaced if you want!

I've also removed the custom images in the bedroom (you can see them in the video), just because they are boudoir shots :)

DLC LIST:

Essential: For Rent High School Years Cottage Living Eco Living Seasons Get Together

Non-Essential: Growing Together - lamps & light Island Living - landscaping plant Get Famous = stairs Cats & Dogs- sculptures City Living - Rug Get to Work - sculpture Dream Home Decorator- plant Dine Out -plant Spa Day - towel Outdoor Retreat - condiment clutter My First Pet Stuff - blinds Romantic Garden - landscape flowers Free Holiday Pack - lights

CC LIST:

by House of HarlixORJANIC Brick Foundation Sectional Sofa Curtain Right & Left - Short Cushion 1 & 2 BAYSIC A good chunk of it BAFROOM Scrub Bathtub Shampoo Towel Rack Toilet roll Soap Dispenser Face Cloth KICHEN Rubber Plant Olive Oil Lovely Lady Bush Cabinets Shallow Counter Wine Rack Glass Pendant Short Chopping Board Set Bay Tree HARLUXE Sink Beach Bag Coffee Table JARDANE A good chunk LIVIN' RUM Stacking Box Tiny Tray Remote Simsung Frame TV Magazine End Table Book Series

by The Clutter Cat Understairs Shelf - Short

by @simcredibledesignsOh Reykjavik Paintings Cushions Zara Bed Nothing to Fear Geomentric Shelves Silky Intentions Toilet Brush Lotions Nuance Mugs Scandi Fever Sideboard Plant 2 3 Cushions TV Rug Naturalis Hanging Plant tall Hanging Plant Suculenta Coffee Maker Calligaris Purse Rug Sandals Purse Rack Hanger Welcome Sculpture Paper Shop Bag Botts Bag Rack Country Coffee Flower Straws Wall Mug Board Painting 1 & 2 Deco Cutting Board Capsule Tower Capsules Pomeriggio Candle Jules Sandals Lipstick Dream English Latitude Make Up Trays Toilet Brush Shampoos Cotton Swabs Agata Candle - Small Keep Life Simple Bathroom Towel Toilet Bidet Bedroom Mirror La Femme Painting Small Go Trendy Plant Bottle Spotlight Desk Daydreamer Pillow Love the Less Sphere Glass Cloche Decor Cotton Plant 4 Cushions

by @onyxsimsExcelsior Toilet Paper Toilet Paper Holder Free Standing

by @simkoosMorning Routine Closet Clutter Shoe Box Plant Mum II Mini Plants Eucalyptus v2 Cup of Straws Metal Tongs Tiny Living Room Television - Standing Thermos Makeup Palette Hanging Purse Shoe Box Storage Container V1 & V2 Stacked Cups Napkin Holder Cup of Straws

by @pralinesims Decal Posters 9, 8, 7, 5, 4, & 2

by @awingedllama Blooming Rooms Plants Paranormal Plants Apartment Therapy v2

by @soloriyaBarber Shop Decor Hair Mousse Hair Spray

by @lapanemona Harmony Set

by @syboubouCountry Kitchen Glass Jars Pot Holder Olive Oil, Pepper & Salt Induction Stove Kitchen Sink Millennial Utensils Rack Utensils Pot Wall - Halftiles Wall - FulTiles Dish soap Breadbox Life Living Room TV Remote Magazine Pile Candles Life Bathroom Razor and Cream Toilet Deodorant Soap Products Bathroom Mens Products Sophie Cushions

by @nynaevedesign Breeze Plants & Planters Kala Bathroom Soap Dish Towel V2 & V3 Toothpaste Toothbrush Soap Dispenser Lyne House Number & Lights Set Amber Bathroom Glasses

by @redheadsims-cc Nintendo Switch

by @sims4luxury2022 Christmas Collab Star Clock Rug Collection #8 White Siding Wood Wallpaper Norrland Plain Wallpapers Grassy Cobblestone Floor Farmhouse Entry Square Artwalls Doormats

by @peanutbutterjelly02 Functional Photo Frames

by Mutske Wonders of Ivy

by @peacemaker-ic Matilda Mudroom Pointless Renovation Short 2 Tile Arch Colour Me Rug - Beige, White, and Brown Gently Draping Curtains

by SnootySims Asymmetrical Vase Small Candle Scent Diffuser Home Design Books Ceramic Vase Ceramic Bowl Candle Lamp

by @ravasheencc Never Been Bedder Platform Bed Frame - Double Nothing Else Matters Mattress - Double Binge Innking Stacked Books

by Severinka Mirror Arrows Mirror Lotus Cleo Hallway Floor Mirror

by @xplatinumxluxexsimsx Luxe Hair Tools Set Wall Letters Chanel Tennis Rackets Chanel Tennis Racket Case Chanel Tennis Balls

by @mechtasimsWelcome Home Cookie tin Clock Moonstone Hanging Dima Mirror

by @madameriasims4Back to Basics Tile Wall Pot Holder Wall & Flat Wall Paint Coffee Tin Modular Shelves

by @kerriganhouse Dormitory Fairy Lights

by @pierisim Winter Garden Pillow

by @networksims Modera Coasters Legacy Coasters

by @kliekie Open Shower

by @arwenkaboomBluem Office Books 7 Arran Wall Tiles Fridge Floor Tiles Dish Rack

by @pinkbox-anye Holly Trinket Dish Jade Roller

by @sooky88 Bath & Bodyworks Candles

by NOSTYLEWOODLAND NSWL Shampoo Lobhe Mirror Folfor Large Mirror ALAS Wall Shelf

#ts4 home tour #ts4 builds #sims 4 houses #sims 4 lots #sims 4 cosy builds #showusyourbuilds #simblr #sims 4 interior #ts4 decor #I used a shit ton of CC again the list is so long but it's all beautiful and I can't not use it anymore #sims 4 cc builds

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Can Yeerks only interface with organic/organic parts of the brain? We see that the Chee basically hold them captive when “infested”, but wondering what might be possible parameters (I remember size being one mentioned in the series) around what makes a particular species susceptible to Yeerk subjugation

IIRC the series specifies that, in order to be infestable, a host species needs:

One (or two) central brain(s) (Visser)

At least one orifice close to the brain (Hork-Bajir Chronicles)

Brain bigger than that of a red-tailed hawk (#33)

Brain smaller than that of a humpback whale (MM1)

Fluid around the brain (#29)

That said, I think "brain" can be artificial as well as organic. HBC and Visser have scenes where yeerks interface directly with computers, downloading research and even memories without having to go through hosts. So as long as Erek has some kind of brain-like structure, is bigger than a breadbox and smaller than a school bus, I think it's at least possible for a yeerk to interface with him. Not sure if the yeerk could control him necessarily — we never see that happen with a chee — but communication appears to be possible.

#animorphs #animorphs meta #yeerks #controllers #i LOVE the thing in visser with edriss being freaked out over humans kinda sorta maybe having two brains #it's so true

[sleepyscxry]

Steven universe x male reader!

yes I am making this a series. Also thank you for the support on my last one :)

your POV

You put you last box in your two story apartment. Now time to unpack.. crap. You put your headphones on and turned on ‘fallen kingdom’ by CaptainSparklez (I really hope people still like this song :,]) you got started putting everything in its proper place like bookshelves and beds, your couch and tv, your dining table and its chairs. And then on to decoration. You hung up fairy lights in your living room and bedrooms. You hung up pictures of you and your friends when y’all were kids. You put a blanket over the couch for extra comfort, draping a table cloth over the dining room table. Putting your breadbox right next to the stove top. Putting the coffee table in its place because you didn’t have time to put that there but now you do. You got onto your bed and set the fairy lights on. Laying on your bed with your (animal of choice except for snake because they’ll just stare at you). You fall asleep.

end of part 1 sorry it’s so short. Please tell me what y’all want to happen in part 2!!

#Steven universe #Steven universe x male reader #Gay #lgbt

[sukifoof]

Your tags reminded me that I've been meaning to ask you about Kagepro. Where do you recommend starting? I'm kinda confused by the whole thing, tbh. It's a band but also an anime/manga/light novel series?

Ah Yes Kagepro.... the most confusing thing to get into ever <3 i personally think its best to start with the manga cuz its chronologically the earliest routes and it also just. makes the most sense?? after that id say the light novels, although i havent finished them myself, or the songs. the songs kind of provide more insight to the characters and how they feel about things,,, and then lastly u would watch mekakucity actors. i made the TERRIBLE mistake of watching mca first and literally nothing made sense <3<3

i think the easiest way to understand kagepro is that its a multimedia project and each media is a different route, kind of like how undertale has different routes. the manga has a split in the middle where a new route starts, so its mildly confusing but it makes more sense as the manga goes on. mca is all one route, and its the Last route, and the songs that come after that are summertime record and lost day hour, which kind of explain more of harukas whole. Deal and how he feels about being back,, remind blue Also takes place after mca but its more of shintaros perspective... never lost word kind of jumps to the future at the end of the song and shows how kidos life went but other than that the songs mostly just explain the characters

i think its Very important to have tws for kagepro So here is a list of what i remember: suicide (toumei answer, lost time memory, additional memory, some parts of the manga talk about it briefly, most of ayanos character so just watch out if shes There) death/blood (konoha's state of the world, kagerou days, outer science, end of manga route 1 and very prominent in manga route 2, i think near the end of the light novels from what ive heard... pretty much just watch out whenever saeru shows up... ayano haruka hiyori and hibiya too just Watch Out) guns (again just. whenever saeru shows up he loves his guns) epilepsy (a lot of the mvs move fast and have flashing, especially outer science) grief (every main character has lost at least one important person to them so its deeply intertwined with the whole story, especially shintaro ayano mary and azami) feel free to ask if u have any more specific questions about whats in it cuz there is a Lot

theres also this very good video which thoroughly explains kagepro!! its very helpful from what ive heard,, ive never watched it But i do know that he has the best translyrics and does have very good analysis about kagepro, so id recommend watching his videos if anything stays Really Confusing,, id also say if u wanna listen to english covers u should check out will stetson!! he uses breadboxs translyrics and they all sound very nice :) the wiki also has a lot of good information!! i know plenty of the people who work on the wiki and theyre very helpful when it comes to understanding the kagelore

my personal favorites are shintaro haruka and saeru as im sure u have noticed :) shintaro is very flowey esque so i love him,, haruka has got so many issues........ and saeru is. oh he is such a guy. i just GOTTA analyze him what is wrong with that guy

#THANK U FOR ASKING ABOUT KAGEPRO THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY!! #i love kagepro despite how unbelievably hard it is to understand #asks #kagepro #suicide ment

[rametarin]

Pondering

I've been thinking about the idea of an urban farmhouse model. Imagine if you will if cities were built to encompass dwellings sufficiently sized to service urban farms.

So, the condominiums wouldn't be breadbox apartments. The dwellings would be like taking some plot of land in Kansas and just adding vertical layers of them. So you'd have the part of the property on the floor that served as housing and the part that'd serve as growing plots and space to raise things like sheep or goats or cattle.

What floors couldn't get sufficient sunlight would be hooked into the power grid, where nuclear plants could power grow lights. You'd effectively have miniature farms in series and parallel. Even if it was low budget housing and simple work for the poor, provided they actually did the work (and it's important they do it themselves, not rely on someone else to do it for them), they'd get food and housing.

The results would take up more space than an apartment complex, but individual joy of owning property may increase. And if it became standard, then one unit could service a nuclear family of 8. It'd also mean those living alone would have a lot of space for emergencies (such as needing to shelter family and friends, or opening their homes to renters.)

You'd still have people living that urban life with tall buildings and roads and streets. The number of people per building might go down, but food security and greenery per square kilometer of a city would go up.

[cuucgardenplanters]

NEW SERIES!！！

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👀Visit more：www.cuucgardenplanters.com 🙌or contact Cola to get free samples：[email protected] #Pot#GalvanizedPot#MetalFlowerPot#FlowerPot#GardenPot #foodstorage#container#bin#tinbox#lid#handle#pet#petfoodstorage#treat#TRENDY#dog#cat#storage#metalcontainer

[dollycas]

Special Guest - Vikki Walton - Author of Fungi Foul Play: A Small Town Colorado Cozy Mystery (Backyard Farming Series) #AuthorInterview / #Giveaway

Fungi Foul Play: A Small Town Colorado Cozy Mystery (Backyard Farming Series) by Vikki Walton

I am delighted to welcome Vikki Walton to Escape With Dollycas today!

Hi Vikki, Tell us a little bit about yourself. I wrote my first book to encourage my daughter in a writing assignment for class. I live in beautiful Colorado but have lots of family and friends along with a piece of my heart in Texas. I write cozies, and historical fiction under a pen name. I also write some nonfiction. What are three things most people don’t know about you? - I am not a fan of dead grapes (raisins) but they’re okay if they’re made into wine. - I’m an INTJ. (0.8% of the population) - I lived in France when I was a young child (dad in service). What books/authors have most inspired you? The Queen of Mystery: Agatha Christie. Even though she’s now often categorized as cozy, her books were/are traditional mystery. The day that my first book ended up next to hers on the bestseller list felt surreal.

What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book? It depends. I don’t have to do a lot of research for my cozies, but I spent a lot of time doing research for my historical fiction. Do you ever suffer from Writer’s Block? No. I have tons of ideas. It’s more that I’m a breadbox writer and I have to allow my subconscious to work on scenes or plots before it comes into my conscious mind. Sometimes that can be frustrating, but it’s my way of writing. What advice do you have for someone who would like to become a published writer? As an author coach, I work with beginning indie authors. I would give the following advice: 1. Read a lot; especially in the genre you want to write in. 2. Write a short story. First, this helps you to understand the genre and tropes needed. Second, writing something shorter helps you understand story arc. Finally, it provides you with a finished product that motivates you and can be used as a reader magnet. 3. Join a writer’s group either in-person or online. This can help you from making terrible mistakes like working with a vanity publisher. 4. Read (again). Learn as much as you can on craft, marketing, and self-publishing. There are a myriad of successful authors who can help you in your journey. 5. Create a plan. In order to achieve the goal of finishing a book and having it published, you need to set objectives, add in timelines, and targets. Even tracking your word count will help you move forward.

When you are not writing what do you like to do? I like to hike, travel, and spend time with animals (I’m also a global housesitter/petsitter). If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go and why? I am planning on hiking the Camino in Spain next year, so probably over to Europe. There’s so much history and architecture that I love. What is next on the horizon for you? I have a lot of writing projects in the works (self-publishing nonfiction book, a historical women’s fiction, another cozy mystery in one of my series, and a few new projects on the back burner with one being later-in-life romances. I like change and trying new things. Thank you, Vikki, for dropping by today! Keep reading for information about Vikki's new book, Fungi Foul Play. 

Read the full article

#Colorado #cozymystery #Ltd. #Morewellson #VikkiWalton

[xtruss]

The Lie Detector | Article: He Met His Wife Over a Lie Detector. Then Things Got Interesting.

Leonarde Keeler, the inventor of the Keeler Polygraph, spent most of his life trying to tell if people were telling the truth. It turned out to be trickier than hooking them up to a machine.

— December 22, 2022 | Kirstin Butler

Leonarde and Katherine Keeler pose with the Keeler Polygraph machine, 1935. Courtesy Everett Collection.

He, rakish and wearing a three-piece suit, looks at the four of hearts in his left hand. She, dark hair in finger waves, ignores the playing card to smile at him. The two are connected by the machine between them: a breadbox-sized contraption full of dials and switches. The image, taken around 1935, is a staged recreation of the first time the couple met—also over a lie detector machine, also with him trying to play a card trick. She saw right through the trick that first time, too.

Leonarde Keeler and Katherine Applegate were students at Stanford University when they met in 1925. Leonarde wasn’t like the other undergrads. For one thing, Keeler had already been on the front page of the Los Angeles Times when he was barely out of high school. The newspaper identified him as the inventor of what it newly dubbed a lie detector. In L.A., Keeler reported directly to the city’s reformist police chief, August Vollmer, who claimed the machine would provide a “modified, simplified and humane third degree.” Vollmer hoped his protégée’s mechanical innovation would make fallible and violent interrogations a thing of the past.

This article is the first in a series called A Thousand Words, where we feature an interesting image from one of our films alongside an essay about why that picture is worth, well, a thousand words.

When Keeler left Los Angeles to enroll at Stanford, he set out to refine his instrument. It wasn’t just the lie detector’s accuracy he wanted to improve; it was also the machine’s commercial application. Keeler wanted to make the technology salable. That started by taking its mechanisms and packaging them in a portable walnut case. He poured his savings into building a prototype device and submitted a patent application.

Keeler’s true refinements, however, were to the smoke and mirrors of the lie detector’s operation, and for practice with that he had his fellow students. He gave his test subjects playing cards and asked them to select one. Once they were hooked up to his machine, he presented them with each card in the deck, instructing them to deny having selected any of them. Presumably, the denial of the one they had chosen would provide the baseline reading of a “lie.” Still, he sometimes rigged the deck to be sure.

One classmate saw through his sleight-of-hand. Katherine Applegate avoided looking at the card she selected—her denials, as a result, were all true. Keeler and Applegate became friends. Both bon vivants, they liked to socialize, drink and move fast—she on horseback, both of them driving. He would cut class for flying lessons; Applegate too took lessons and later became an accomplished pilot.

Several years later they grew romantically involved, then married in 1930. That same year, Keeler explained the true inner workings of his machine, which had nothing to do with the appliance. “The success of this device in detecting deception and guilt,” he said, “is attributed in large measure to the psychological effect such a test has in bringing about confessions.” Intended to sanitize police interrogations, his device instead became another tool in an officer’s coercive arsenal.

A reading from a Keeler Polygraph machine, 1940. Courtesy of the Leonard Keeler papers, UC Berkeley, Bancroft Library

By then Leonarde and Katherine had moved to Chicago, then known as Murder City for its gangs and staggering homicide rates. In 1929, looking to turn the city’s reputation around, civic leaders established the Scientific Crime Detection Laboratory at Northwestern University, the country’s first formal institution for criminal investigation. The Keelers became two of the lab’s leading criminologists, Leonarde its lie detection specialist, Katherine an expert handwriting analyst.

Chicago was the perfect milieu for the dashing, crime-fighting couple. Spending time with them always involved “excited talk about specimens of handwriting, fingernail scrapings, gunpowder, explosions and corpses,” recalled Keeler’s sister Eloise in Lie Detector Man, a biography published after his death. By now Leonarde’s machine had a formal name—the Keeler Polygraph—and a built-in public relations department in the crime detection lab. Within two years, lie detection was the Northwestern lab’s most lucrative concern. What’s more, Leonarde and Katherine both regularly appeared in the news for their forensic exploits.

The photo recreating their meet-cute accompanied just such an article in the March 13, 1937 issue of Newsweek about one of the most controversial cases of Keeler’s career.

Chicagoan Joseph Rappaport was sitting on death row, convicted of murdering an informant set to testify against him. Under pressure from Rappaport’s family and religious community, Governor Henry Horner had already delayed Rappaport’s execution five times. Horner told Rappaport’s sister he would consider another stay—if the condemned man passed a test performed by preeminent lie detection specialist (and personal friend) Leonarde Keeler.

Just before the scheduled execution, Keeler put Rappaport to the test, starting with his standard card trick. After two hours of interrogation, Keeler called the governor with his verdict: Rappaport was guilty. Another two hours later, Rappaport went to the electric chair.

The story made for scintillating copy, but some journalists, and Keeler’s colleagues, were incredulous about what they saw as his complete ethical lapse—it seemed mad to test someone on a polygraph machine with the threat of their potential execution several hours away.

The scene of the Newsweek image belied another of Keeler’s oversights. By the time it appeared, his marriage was on the rocks—Katherine had been cheating on him for years, with numerous lovers. Her infidelity was staring Leonarde in the face, and somehow the lie detector man had missed it. Perhaps he had convinced himself of his skill at divining people’s truths.

“Professor Keeler’s card trick works nine times out of ten,” reads the Newsweek caption on the photo, a statistic of dubious veracity likely provided, conveniently, by Keeler himself.

[pedros-mustache]

Hi Jess, I am loving your Domestic!Din series so much! 💕 I saw you were open for asks/thoughts on the series, so I have a small one to send your way.

When I think domestic, I think about home - and now important it is to have your space within your home. I was thinking about when Din and Reader first got together, how he felt about her becoming comfortable, working her presence into his space.

I’m thinking about when he realizes her laundry is mixed in with his, maybe there new furniture you pick out together as a family (with Grogu) in his living room. Your products in his shower, or when he turns on his car/truck and finds the radio tuned to your favorite station, from when you were running errands earlier.

I guess I just wanted to know if you had any thoughts on how their lives became intertwined, and the sweetness of making “his home” into “our home”?

oh yes. this is the shit. this is what domestic!din is all about. thank you, other jess. 😉 (also: i used she/her pronouns in this rather than you because it just felt right.) 

warnings: nondescript smut (not 18+ but be mindful), mention of military service & children in foster care

the five times din djarin realizes his life has changed

i.

he used to keep his honey in the pantry. 

now the viscous, yellow liquid sits on the butcher block countertop, housed in a glass jar in the shape of a bear, a pale wooden dipper visible through the container. she spoons a dollop of the sweet stuff onto his cereal each morning before kissing his cheek and breezing out of the screen door—on her way to pollenate the rest of the world with her kindness.

he used to keep his honey in the pantry.

ii.

he never used to receive fashion magazines in the mail.

now there’s a healthy, colorful stash of slick-papered booklets wedged between her recipe box and the breadbox. she leafs through the issues while she waits for her bread to rise in the oven or waits for him to finish tinkering in the barn. she’s always humming while she flits through the pages, chin in her hand, bare foot bouncing over her crossed ankles. 

she dogears pages she likes, and din studies them when she sleeps, combing through the advertisements like a bible. she never circles what she likes, but one day—he’ll figure it out. he’ll scrimp and he’ll save and he’ll buy her something good.

he never used to receive fashion magazines in the mail.

iii.

he never used to wear slippers.

he’s an air force vet. has shot entire planes out of the fucking sky. has bandaged his own wounds, flown through hail storms, and watched people he loved wither beneath the pressure of the job and the pain of returning home. he’s by no means a man easily coddled.

yet—

his slippers: tan suede moccasins, flannel lined and warm. her first christmas gift, offered with jittery fingers and hopeful eyes and the faintest smile on her perfect mouth. 

when he wears them around the house, he feels old, out of style more than he already is. but the soft shoes cause his feet to tread lightly on the old floorboards, and he is afforded more ease with which to slip into the sunroom, where she often falls asleep curled in her favorite armchair. he lifts her from the chair, and she folds into his arms as though she is made to be held in his embrace. her sleepy breath fans his throat, and she mumbles in her drowsy state nonsensical things he wishes he remembered come morning.

he never used to wear slippers.

iv. 

he never used to explain baseball.

he knows it all—every team, every statistic, every rule and regulation forming the country’s great past-time. fuck, he still has his childhood collection of baseball cards, the one he toted with him to every new foster home or group house. he flips through the heavy binder every once in awhile, when the going gets tough and the nights seem longer than usual.

grogu gets it, too. he watches the game when din watches; he plays on the school’s slipshod team. together—in their thrown together existence, borne out of necessity more than anything—they bond in silence over nine innings once a week.

she likes competitive rock climbing. had never been to a baseball game prior to meeting din. 

still, she sits beside him when the game is on, and she asks questions—too many questions—but he answers them, his hand on her bare knee, massaging her flesh with his calloused thumb. he kisses her sometimes when commercials replace the action. 

she smiles against his mouth and nods when he breaks away. “okay, i’ll shut up. you win.”

he never used to explain baseball.

v.

he never used to make love. 

before her, he took—and he’s not proud of that. but taking is what he knew until she waltzed into his life, plopped down, and made him better. now he worships her any chance he gets.

beneath beams of moonlight, filtering through gauzy curtains—

in the bed of his truck on the fourth of july, while grogu skittered off with his friends and the preacher sat two vans over in the yard of the hospital—

by the stream at the south end of his property, their picnic forgotten—

on the faded living room rug, lamplight shining in her hair—

he makes each location of their connection a veritable cathedral, dappled with stained glass and the music of the saints. he gives, hungry with need at her feet. the softness she tears from him he no longer finds weak. it is for her, and her alone, this secret part of himself. he gives it to her willingly, eagerly. 

it is for her. 

i love you.

i am yours.

take me.

he never used to make love.

#din djarin x reader #domestic!din

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Night🌙5

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow​‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Sorry there’s no Eye of the Storm for today. I’m currently going through physical and emotional hell but I hope you don’t mind some Andy Barber.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed angry. You were always warned against it and you always learned your lessons the hard way. Hence, your current predicament and that stabbing just above your eye brow.

You got up slowly. You groaned and grumbled as you forced yourself to your feet. It was early and you had a shift at the diner. You never thought you'd be eager to be in your greasy apron but it was better than the alternative.

The night before, you'd spent a few minutes looking around the bedroom. There was an attached bathroom and you were thankful for that as you'd awoke once to relieve yourself before stumbling back to bed. 

You pushed through the half-open door and pulled your night shirt over your head. You stretched and reached to start the shower. There was a hand towel hanging from the ring above the sink but nothing else. You went to the closet but upon opening the door, you were surprised to find another bedroom on the other side. 

You swore and slammed the door before Andy could look up from his tie. You searched the handle for a lock and clicked it into place. God damn it! What kind of house was set up like that?

You heard his bedroom door in the hall and he knocked on your own. You scrambled to pick up your night gown and pull it back on as the hinges whispered and he appeared at the bathroom door. He looked confused as he crossed his arms.

"What was all that about?" He asked.

"I needed a towel," You huffed. "And I thought it was... a closet."

"Ah, linen closet's right next to my room." He explained. "I never really liked the layout but Laurie... I'll get you a towel."

You nodded and he left you. He returned with a dark blue towel and offered it to you. You took it and he reluctantly let it go. His gaze never left you; sombre and serious.

"Did you decide?" He asked.

"I'll tell Saul today," You said. "Is that acceptable?"

He sighed and sniffed.

"Call me." He said. "Doesn't matter when, I'll pick up. You let me know when your next appointment is."

"Okay," You resigned. "So, can I shower or...?"

"I gotta head out," He tucked his hand in his pants pocket. "I'll leave your breakfast on the counter."

"I can take care of myself." You insisted.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," He gave a sarcastic smirk. "What time are you done?"

"Seven," You answered dully. "I'll be home before curfew, dad."

He rolled his eyes and backed away.

"Well, won't be long till I am," He countered. "Isn't that right, mommy?"

He left you, the door closing with a snap. You listened as he went back to his own room and left shortly after, his footsteps fading down the stairs.

You set the towel down on the toilet lid and felt the warmth of the shower’s spray with your fingertips. You'd thought living with your mom was hard. Now you almost missed it.

🌙

You felt like you had a secret victory. While you'd given up the job that had seen you through the last decade, your job at the cafe was starting to look more promising. Many of your co-workers were college students and handed off shifts quite often. 

By the time you left the diner, dispirited as you were after the last few days' events, you had picked up two half-shifts for the next week. Another and you'd have more than thirty hours away from Andy and his suburban prison.

It was short-won as you found a bitterly familiar car waiting by the curb as you walked out of work. Andy sat in the front seat, his hand leaned against the steering wheel as he squinted at the glowing screen of his phone. You were tempted to ignore him and catch the bus instead but you didn't want another night of arguing. You just wanted to be home. You could hide in the guest room and try to forget. Well, as much as you could.

You knocked on the window and he looked over. He gave you his usual disapproving look and unlocked the doors with the flip of a switch. He tucked his phone away and turned the engine as you climbed in.

"I messaged." He said as he peered out into traffic. "Why didn't you answer?"

"I haven't checked my phone," You frowned. "Sorry."

"I told you to call me." He pulled out and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the wheel. "You make your appointment?"

"Monday," You muttered. Only three days away. "Ten thirty."

"I can make it work," He said. "You wanna grab some dinner? It's a bit late to cook."

"You gonna spoon feed again?" You challenged.

"Only if you make me," He said. "I want a copy of your schedule. Every week. I need to know when you're working and not."

"You're not serious?" You scoffed.

"I think I have a right to know. And look, we're having a kid and we should learn to get along before it gets here." He glanced at you in the rearview. "It wasn't so hard that night in the bar."

"Andy, forget that night," You breathed. 

"I can't." His voice was low, dusky. "Even if... if I hadn't run into you again, I'd still be thinking about it."

"Don't do this," You begged.

"I love-- Loved my wife," He continued. "But it was never like that. Never that--"

"Stop," You interrupted. "Andy, I get it, well, I can't really understand what you're going through but you're grieving your family. It's confusing, scary, but you can't expect me to fill that hole. It was a one night stand. As far as I know those are suppose to end the morning after, at latest."

He was silent as he pulled into the drive through of a local burger joint. You'd been to the place once, they had great potato wedges but charged a bit much for limited portions. He stopped at the speaker and turned to you.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Chicken burger, extra mayo, side of wedges," You craned to read the menu around him. "And an iced tea?"

"That's a lot of sugar. You should have a water for now and I have some stuff at home."

"Why did you even-- fine," You relented. "Water is fine."

Andy ordered and idled between the windows as he waited for the food. When it was his turn at last, he drew up and paid. He took the paper bag and the tray of drinks and handed it to you. He tipped, well, and thanked the server before pulling away.

"You don't understand. You're right." He said stiffly. "You can't but you can at least try. A baby... do you know what that means to me? Especially now, after everything. I never really put much faith in God but it feels like... a sign."

You lowered your head and shifted the paper bag on your leg as its warmth seeped through your pants. You felt bad. You were so concerned with what you were going to do, you hadn't really thought about him or his feelings. Sure, he was bossy, angry, but could you blame him? After a tragedy so uncontrollable how could you not be desperate for an ounce of control?

"Thank you," You said quietly. "For buying me dinner. For... letting me stay with you."

"You don't have to thank me for that. Decent people do those things." He stared at the road grimly. "I'm... sorry I've been so angry."

"It's alright. I haven't really been easy to deal with." You chuckled darkly. "I'd blame the hormones but I think it's just me."

"No, it's not," He turned down his street. "I'll be home late tomorrow night. There's lots of food in the fridge. You working?"

"Closing." You answered. "I'll be late too."

He nodded as he pulled into his driveway.

"Alright," He killed the engine. "I still want that schedule. It'll make things a lot easier."

You wanted to slap yourself. He came around as you managed to open your door and took the bag from you as he left you the tray of drinks. You followed him to the door, shaking your head at your own idiocy. He might be decent but it didn't make him any less overbearing.

🌙

Your days continued on a tightrope. You did your best to balance between Andy's irritability and your own misery. He might have apologized but there was something about the man that just kept you on edge.

And it was difficult to adjust to living with a man that was barely more than a strangers. To live in the shell of his former life. Even when you were alone, you stayed in the guest room, kept to yourself. It felt wrong to be there.

When Monday came, you woke to ready for your appointment. You dressed and went downstairs to find Andy awake and put together as always. The smell of his coffee made your mouth water.

"Any left in the pot?" You asked.

He shook his head as he blew the steam away from the rim.

"You can't have coffee. Too much caffeine." He said. "I'll buy you some decaf if you want. There's a gourmet place in the market."

"Don't worry about it," You grumbled. "I'll just have some orange juice."

"And some fruit, toast, yogurt..." He began as he set his mug down. "You should start writing down your meals. Keep track. You don't want to undereat." He opened the fridge and pulled out a basket of blueberries and a tub of yogurt. "We should also look into some supplements for you. Iron, probably." 

He grabbed a bowl and measured out the yogurt and then rinsed some berries to go on top. He slid the bowl across the island and put everything back in the fridge. He grabbed the loaf from the breadbox and shoved two slices in the toaster.

"They should be able to let us know what after today," He continued. "I was reading up. They're gonna take some blood, probably some urine, and you might even have an ultrasound."

"Reading?" You narrowed your eyes. "Did you do all this with... before?"

He pressed his lips together and cracked his neck.

"I was younger then. Naive," He said. "Nine months is a long time. A lot can go wrong."

You were quiet. You scooped yogurt into your mouth and tried not to scowl. You didn't need to walk into the doctor's in a mood. The whole thing was stressful enough.

He finished making your toast and offered you peanut butter. You took butter and accepted the dry dark rye. He tapped his fingers on the counter and reached for a book on the end. He slid it over and flipped it open just as you read the title; 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. You wanted to laugh. You chewed instead.

"That's your research?" You asked.

"You should read it," He said without looking up, crossing his arms atop the counter as he bent over it. "You'd learn a lot."

"Oh yeah?" You swallowed. "I'll see if I can fit it on my reading list."

"Huh," He looked up at last. "I saw that you had quite a few hours next week. Thirty-three."

"You said I couldn't work two jobs," You shrugged. "So I have one."

"I thought we were getting somewhere," He stood straight. "I really did."

"What else am I supposed to do? I can't just sit around and wait for the baby."

"You can," He snapped and rubbed his beard, feeling the bristle of his beard. "Jesus, I just-- I'm trying to do what's right."

"For you? Me? The baby?" You wondered.

"For us," He said pointedly. 

"Us?" You echoed and set down the last crust. "What do you think is going to happen when the baby is here?"

His brows crinkled and took a breath.

"Well, I hope to have the nursery set up by then. Some clothes ready. No surprises, we'll need to know the sex so that we're ready." He slowly smiled as he spoke. "And maybe a pump for you, just in case. And I can take some days off to help out. It can be exhausting--"

"Andy!" You spat. "Andy, do you think-- do you think I'm going to stay here... forever?"

"You gonna pop this thing out and just go?" He asked. 

"I never said I'd stay. Why would I--?"

"Because we're gonna be parents. Together." He hissed. "Because I won't have my child bouncing back and forth like volleyball."

"I'm not doing that." You said. "No, I'm not--" You stood and rounded the counter. "I'll find my own way to the appointment. There's no reason you need to be there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" He stepped in front of you and blocked you. "I wasn't asking."

"You can't make me--"

"I can do whatever I want," His voice grew deeper as he backed you against the island. "I can tell the police you abandoned your child. I can sue you for support. I can have you arrested for neglect."

"Prove it," You snarled.

"Won't be hard. I got buddies in the PD. I don't even have to plant the evidence," He smirked. "I just gotta give them the go ahead."

"No," You tried to push past him and he grabbed your sides, pushing you back against the counter.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart," He leaned in to whispered in your ear. "You're gonna do a lot of things you think you don't wanna do." 

His hand slipped to your hip and you caught his wrist, grasping his chunky watched. He stood straight and looked down at you nonchalantly. 

"You're right," He wrenched his arm away and looked at his watch. "We're gonna be late."

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #dark andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #fic #series #one night #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

[sparrowrider]

You’re Safe Now (Avengers x tiny!reader)

Well gee, guess who’s not dead?! :D I know I’ve been silent for awhile, since school and everything has been eating up my time—but I recently got a burst of creativity, and I decided to go through the prompts in my inbox. (Which, by the way, are still open if you have any ideas!) So here we are! 

Note: The titles says Avengers, though it focuses on Tony and Steve!

Warnings: mild cursing; being trapped; panic/spiraling thoughts

Hope y’all enjoy!

>> @misfitsgalaxygt @obwjam

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

You drummed your fingers carelessly against your knee, eyes pasted to the large, analog clock stuck onto the wall. It was exactly three minutes and 45 seconds—46, 47, 48 seconds—past when the scientists were supposed to show up.

It was supposed to happen every day at 3pm sharp. The scientists would approach your cell, white lab coats billowing out behind them and surgical masks covering their entire face (except their beady, lifeless eyes). They would punch in a code, open your door, and grab your entire body in one rubber-glove-clad hand before taking you to another box—one that was much bigger, and carpeted with fake grass. It was supposed to represent you exercise time, or at least that’s what you thought. Then, at 3:30, it was back to your cell.

But today, they were late. That had never happened before.

You shifted uncomfortably, hands pressed against the glass as you peered through the room. Other glass cells lined the room, though most of them were scaled for fully-sized humans—only what they contained were only vaguely humanoid. People with horns, with wings, with green skin and gills and tentacles were contained behind those cells—and just like you, they were trapped here.

Just like you, they were experiments. People who had gotten their entire lives snatched away just so a covert group of dubiously ethical scientists could bend the laws of biology and physics at the expense of people’s general well-being.

The others sensed something was up, too. The person in the cell next to you—a young, frail girl with a set of enormous, bright red wings—had pressed her face up against the glass. Two cells down, a boy with fangs and claws scratched impatiently against the walls. Routines were everything here—so a deviation meant something unusual was going on.

Then you heard it: the shouting, followed by a series of bangs and crashes. You heard heavy footsteps, unabashed cursing, and more crashes. Something was definitely going on.

Stomach turning with unease, you tucked yourself into one of the corners of your cell and waited. And waited. The sounds kept going: shouts and bangs and what sounded like miniature explosions. Then, after about ten minutes, they died down. All was quiet once more.

Then, more footsteps; only this time, it was a lone pair striding forward with purpose.

Your stomach twisted as you realized it was growing louder.

“I’ll check this room out,” a deep, businesslike voice rang out from behind the door. It was unfamiliar, which could only mean one thing: someone new was coming in.

The knob turned. The door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, well-muscled man with neatly combed red-brown hair. He was clad in a blue leather suit adorned with stars and stripes, and in his hand he clutched a large, metallic shield with a single star in the center. His eyes darted about the room, widening significantly as he took in its inhabitants—as he took in the unnatural configurations of nature that were my cellmates.

“Guys, you might want to come check this out,” he called out, taking a hesitant step forward toward one of the cells—this one contained a wiry girl with tentacles where her arms should have been.

Moments later, a second figure joined him. He donned red-and-yellow armor, and his dark brown hair was rumpled and stuck out at odd angles. A shadow of a smirk was evident on his face as he stepped through the door, but it vanished almost instantaneously.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled. “I knew these guys were into some unethical crap, but this…”

The blue man gestured towards the keypads next to the doors. “They’re locked in,” he muttered, his brow furrowing. The other man simply rolled his eyes.

“Give me about thirty seconds to hack the system,” he retorted. “They’ll be out in no time.”

“But…what do we do afterwards?”

The brown-haired man frowned, glancing around. “You guys got families?” he queried. “Relatives of any kind? Homes?”

No one knew quite how to respond.

“Huh. Well.” The metallic man huffed. “We’ll figure something out. They can stay with us until we figure out where to get them sorted—I’m sure Bruce can help with that.”

The blue man nodded. “Alright.” With a pointed glance at the metallic man, he added, “Would you do the honors?”

“Certainly.” The metallic man held out what appeared to be a tiny, black disk before sticking it onto the keypad on the nearest cell. “Friday, initiate hack.”

One second passed. Then two. A soft beeping sound filled the air, and as you glanced around, you could see the other glancing at the two strangers with bewildered looks in their eyes. You couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing and hearing; were they truly about to break you all out? Were they planning to take you somewhere else? Where would you go? Were their intentions good, or—

Suddenly, all seventeen doors flew open in unison. The metallic man snatched his disk back and placed it in a compartment in his suit.

“Alright, people,” he said loudly, eyes sweeping the room. “You’ve probably been stuck in there for awhile, but my friend and I here have come to rescue you. So if you wouldn’t mind coming with me, we can be on our way.”

One second passed. Then two. Then the girl with wings stepped out of her cell, hope shining in her eyes. After her came the others: the boy with claws, the girl with tentacles, the kid with gills. All of them stepped out of their cell, giddy with disbelief and excitement, as the metallic man ushered them forwards—all but you.

There was a small problem with that, after all.

Your cell was about the size of a breadbox, and was tucked into the corner at a height of about five feet—which to someone who is only three inches tall is a fatal fall. Your door was open, just like everyone else’s, but you was still trapped.

As the last boy trotted eagerly out of the room, the man in blue turned, preparing to leave. Your stomach tightened as you saw him stride toward the exit; he couldn’t leave without you. You couldn’t be trapped here. You couldn’t, you couldn’t, you couldn’t—

“Wait!”

The man froze.

You clapped my hands over my mouth, face reddening. The man turned, slowly, and his eyes finally locked onto your tiny, trembling form.

“Oh,” he said simply.

“Please don’t leave me,” you added, my voice quavering.

The man nodded, and stepped forward slowly, His shield had been transferred to his back, and it glinted in the dim fluorescent light. A heartbeat later, he was directly in front of you, stooped over slightly so that his billboard-size face was hovering directly outside your cell.

“Of course I wouldn’t leave you,” he said, softly, his eyebrows knitting together. “Do you, er…need a hand?”

You nodded, tremors racking your body. The man took a deep breath, but nodded, and slowly raised one blue-leather-clad hand up to your door. You pushed yourself to your feet, still shaking; you were accustomed to being grabbed, after all. Walking directly into a stranger’s open palm was nothing short of terrifying; but if he really was telling the truth, if he was the link to freedom you’d dreamed of for so long…

You took one step. Then another. Before long, you were stepping onto the man’s fingers, your feet sinking into the odd, yet soft, surface. The man stared down at you, his eyes wide as he took your very existence in.

“Ready?” he asked hesitantly.

You nodded.

“Alright.” And he began walking. His footsteps were long and low; luckily for you, this meant very little jostling. You instinctively grabbed onto his thumb as he continued making his way through the room, then paused—you could feel a faint, but steady, pulse thrumming through the skin.

“How you doing down there?”

“Alright,” you responded, tentative.

The man nodded, eyes darting between you and the path ahead. “Good. Good. I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Oh. Um. Nice to meet you, uh, Steve,” you responded, sneaking another glance up at his face.

Before long, he reached the others, who were clustered around the man in the red suit, along with several others. A woman with short, red hair stood beside a man toting a bow; beside them, an abnormally tall man with a blond ponytail and a massive hammer was chatting with a rather short man with curly, dark hair and a meek complexion.

“Tony,” Steve called out, his voice booming around you. “I got one more.”

The eyes of the man in the red suit—Tony—shot towards you immediately, and you found yourself studying your shoes intensely as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Damn,” Tony responded. “They really…they really didn’t have any inhibitions, did they?”

“Apparently not,” Steve mumbled, casting a cloudy gaze your way.

Tony bent over, his eyes peering intensely into yours. “You alright there?” he asked quietly. Drawing your arms tighter around yourself, you merely nodded, even though a thousand questions and remarks were crawling through your brain.

“Well, then,” Tony announced. “Let’s get you guys back to Avengers Tower, yeah?”

The other experiments nodded excitedly, whispering and chittering amongst themselves. You glanced up at Steve, who returned your gaze with a soft, tender smile.

“You’re safe now,” he reassured you. “It’s going to be okay from here on out.”

Your finger traced the grooves in his blue glove. “Thank you,” you whispered hoarsely, feeling the beginnings of an emotional supernova welling up inside of you.

“Of course.” Cupping his other hand protectively around your form, Steve started making his way towards the exit. His hand was warm and soft; his heartbeat pounded through you. You found yourself relaxing in this stranger’s hand.

For the first time in as long as you could remember, you felt safe and secure.

For the first time in as long as you could remember, things seemed like they would be okay after all.

#g/t writing #my writing #avengers #marvel #marvel g/t #avengers g/t #g/t #giant tiny #giant/tiny #giant!tony #giant!steve #yeet!! #iron man #captain america

[tessatechaitea]

Scarab #1

As I picked this up, I said, "If that's not a Glenn Fabry cover then I'm not a virgin!"

Look out! We've got a real barn burner of a tale starting here!

Louis, the old man, gets interesting when he reveals that his wife, Eleanor, has been locked behind a door in his house since 1945. And it's not a normal door! It's a door his father brought home and threatened him with the cutting off of his hands if he ever touched it. He said his father became Bluebeard but I think that was just metaphorical what with the door that nobody can look behind and all. I don't think he really had a bunch of dead wives' heads behind it. Although Louis here now had one wife's head behind it! Probably still attached to her body and possibly not dead, what with the door being magic and all. According to Louis, even Scarab couldn't get the door open. I guess Scarab is a superhero? And maybe it was Louis's alternate identity? Or maybe Louis knew him. I think I'll discover the answer to that question when I read the next page. Well, it's not actually the next page. That page describes how Louis's father disappears inside the door for months at a time and returns with strange items and new venereal diseases. It's the page after that page where we learn that Louis became the Scarab by messing with one of his father's treasures.

Fifty percent chance this isn't a superhero outfit but an alien S&M getup.

I'm not good with double negatives and I just got concerned that the initial caption reads wrong. Just make sure you read it to mean I'm totally not a virgin! Meanwhile, Eleanor lives in the Labyrinth of Doors now. She gets to be eternally young and have grand adventures every day. Sometimes she finds locked doors that can't be opened. Exciting! Other times, she'll find empty rooms behind the doors. Dramatic! Occasionally, she'll discover old appliances and housewares in piles. Swoontacular! How boring is my life that reading about a life where you get to open mystery doors that lead to stupid bullshit gets my heart racing?! Eleanor is living the dream! When I was a kid, one of my fantasies was that somebody would create a game which was just a neighborhood or city void of people. But their houses were all still there and you could go from house to house snooping at all of their possessions. I was so boring that my fantasy wasn't even about the end of the world where I could do that for real. I only wanted to do it from the safety of my room on my Vic-20! Oh, and how delusional was I that I thought a game like that would run on my Vic-20?! What a stupid jerk I was. I heard that, you smart ass! Questioning the tense of that sentence!

See? An assassin! Look at me doing actual research instead of just ejaculating my own precious opinions!

After the Sicari's ritual to find the door is over, he relaxes naked under a ceiling of swords while holding back his orgasm (so as not to commit the sin of Onan (which he wouldn't be committing because the sin of Onan is not a sexual sin but a breach of contract. But since religious people are obsessed with sexual desire (having so much pent up inside of them at all times), they've consistently demanded that the Onan story was something the Onan story was not. Just go read it yourself) and "shivering ... with a terrible sexual longing for death." It's too bad the Sicari is the bad guy because he just became my favorite comic book character. I wonder if Vertigo ever sold t-shirts of the Sicari? Can you wear a t-shirt in public that shows some leprous man whose skin is half barbed wire naked and holding in his orgasm? That sounds more dangerous than holding in a sneeze. While Sicari doesn't come, Louis sits at home thinking about his comic book battles as the Scarab.

I don't remember the time Doctor Fate fought Conjoined Twins Brain Man.

I hope the previous panel is ildchay ornpay! I'm using King Beauregard's suggestion to fool Tumblr's censors! But wouldn't be weird if you couldn't even talk about the negative aspects of ildchay ornpay (which I think are all the aspects, just to be clear!) without Tumblr censoring you? It would almost be like Tumblr didn't want people to be educated on how terrible ildchay ornpay was! Oh, I hope I didn't drive away all of my ildchay ornpay loving readers! Sorry for being critical of you with that whole "it's all negative" take! Eleanor's next adventure is a room full of electric fans. Can you imagine standing in front of not one fan but dozens?! Oh the heights of excitement she must experience every day of her life! So many fans blowing on you all at once! It's erotic!

Holy crap! This is a Vertigo title! They mentioned the lady's curse!

Remember the good old days when you didn't know what a period was or what the word virgin meant and your only wish was to search through a stranger's sock drawer? Oh to be young and naive again! To not have your body betray you and say, "No! Today you are a woman! Put away your childhood things and bleed!" To not have people at school pointing and laughing and calling you a name you had to look up in the dictionary later that day which led you to think, "Everybody else in seventh grade has fucked?!" To never be burdened by the shame of your first forays into masturbation, splashing loudly in the bathtub in such a way that, looking back, you know your mom totally fucking knew what you were doing in there. To feel the sweet granular relief that it was Chris Huff who got labeled "the breadbox masturbater" in junior high and not you (not that you'd ever even though of jerking off into a bread box. Nor did you think Chris did either but some kid has to become the scapegoat burdened with the rest of the school's masturbatory sins!). To never be so old that you find yourself sitting in a dark room thinking, "How fucking terrible must that burden have been for Chris back then if I can still, thirty-five years later, remember his whole Goddamned name?!" I never felt more empathy for a person, before or since, then when Chris Huff's name was said at 9th grade graduation and nearly the entire auditorium laughed. I swear I almost cried right there among all my peers. But I held it in lest I get labeled a bread box masturbator sympathizer! The night Eleanor finds her first window in the Labyrinth of Doors (and thinks about her period) is the night the Sicari finds the door and murders Louis. Or probably tries to murder Louis. He'll probably get his S&M costume on before he dies and it'll heal him because it's magic. I'm only speculating that it's magic because it's created by a scarab and because the Scarab fought alongside Doctor Fate. The Sicari throws Louis out of the second floor window which means I now have to believe that, broken and bleeding, Louis is going to crawl back upstairs to get to the scarab. You know, comic book, it would have been a lot easier on my psyche if you'd just let the Sicari dump Louis by the bottom drawer of the dresser. Sure, I understand it's less dramatic! But realize that just asking me to believe a 78 year old man can survive being dumped on the floor is already straining the limits of my disbelief! You can't also ask me to believe all of his bones didn't shatter after going out the second floor window! My God, I'm already invested in believing in a magic door and an evil being whose brain is composed of conjoined twins! How much more work do you want me to do here?!

No Louis. You're dead and this comic is over.

Being that this is a Vertigo comic book, Justin probably is dead and the rest of this story is just Justin Jacob's Laddering the last few seconds of his life. The Sicari realizes the door to Alamut (whatever that is. I can't constantly be asked to do research while reading comic books. Somebody expects me to check Wikipedia twice in one sitting?! The nerve! (okay fine! I checked. It's a region in Iran! Happy?)) doesn't exist. And in his rage, he does something that would be unthinkable to non-Comicsgate comic book readers in 2019: he threatens to rape Eleanor's corpse! Man, that Vertigo sure knew how to do horror! He also threatens to shit in the Scarab's heart when the Scarab finally shows up. That's the kind of thing that made a person reading comic books in 1993 think, "Whoa! This is cutting edge adult stuff! I can't wait to tell my first boss that I'm going to shit in his heart!" Yes, Louis manages to crawl upstairs and open the dresser drawer and put on his sex suit. He then somehow manages to find Eleanor but not in time. She's been killed by The Sicari. So the Scarab tells the Sicari that he's dead and he dies. And as he dies, the Sicari realizes there is no afterlife, no paradise, waiting for him and he loses his death boner and weeps like a baby that's dying. What a fucking wuss. I don't know why the last scene takes place on a plane but it does. I guess the bathroom door on this flight was a magic bathroom door that led to the Labyrinth of Doors. Maybe all doors sometimes lead there! The Scarab Rating: I rarely get excited by what I might discover on the other side of a door which seems odd when you realize one of my biggest fantasies as a kid was basically just that. Maybe I've been taking doors for granted? From now on, I'm going to stop expecting the room I've always known to be behind the door to be there. I'm going to hold my breath and hope that it will lead somewhere fascinating, like a room full of hatstands or urinals or electric fans or some other noun writer John Smith could come up with off the top of his head to take the place of something mysterious and exciting. Seriously, John Smith. You could have at least filled Eleanor's rooms with fornicating sloths and newscasters eating shit. But I guess the point was for Eleanor to be lonely so every room had to just have useless, inorganic bullshit. Just like the rooms in my house. Oh my God! I'm Eleanor!

#Scarab #DC Comics #DC #Vertigo #John Smith #Scot Eaton #Mike Barreiro

[writingwithcolor]

Hi there! I'm not sure if you accept art-related questions, if not I apologize but I just wanted to get your take. I'm wanting to make hand-inked comics in black and white with no in-between shades of grey. I'm wondering how I should depict the black and other dark-skinned characters. If I make their skin white I could risk white washing, whearas if I make it black, I possibly risk harmful stereotypes and losing detail in the faces. This dumb artist would appreciate the help.

Drawing Non-White Characters

You’re going to be relying heavily on features, in this case— I would most certainly avoid having all-black skin because of the level of detail it would obscure.

When it comes to features, checking out @misselaney masterposts, posts on black features such as this one, and another blogger’s post specifically on noses.

You don’t mention Asian, but posts such as this are useful to know, since a diverse cast isn’t just black and white.

Features do differ across ethnicities. While you have to be careful not to stereotype, it’s 100% possible to identify a Black character based on clues such as hair, nose, and lip shape in a lineart format (just don’t exaggerate it, and use references).

~ Mod Lesya

Yo, Elaney here (Thanks for the mention, Lesya) 

Not only would having all-black skin obscure a lot of level of detail, it would make reproducing your work a gigantic pain in because you would have to faithfully hand-fill all of that and when it comes to comics you want to ideally have a style that you can reproduce quickly.  I am a big fat hypocrite but, ... Do as I say, not as I do, in this case, for your poor wrists and time-efficiency!  If you experiment with cross-hatching or stippling as a means of faux-grayscale, also keep that in mind. 

Pick up Love And Rockets by the Hernandez Brothers if you pick up nothing else.

Diverse cast, diverse body types, characters that you see throughout their lives so you see and appreciate how they age, all of it in black and white, and it’s a well-known comic series so it should be fairly accessible to you.

Love And Rockets is just one example of how you can indeed draw all black and white characters that are non-white without any grey by focusing on their facial proportions.  I personally refer to majouna/cedarseed’s Guide To Human Types which are, themselves, executed in pure linework to communicate the features sans-shading and span the globe (literally). 

If you are still concerned that people will see your cast as white, remind them through other means within the narrative.

One way to do this is considering tics of how people speak if they’re bilingual or multilingual. You don’t want to make people speak like caricatures obviously, but it is the case that bilingual families have little family phrases and tics.  Uusally this boils down to filler statement and interjections.  For example in my family, “mira!” instead of “look!” even if the rest of the conversation is in English, and a diosito or an hijole will fall out of my mouth now and then.  When I dated someone with Japanese heritage “so da ne” was a filler statement they’d use, and I know a Russian expat who goes “tak, tak, tak” when searching for words. 

Another way is to consider what sort of ethnic-group-based items that may appear around the house when/if you do draw them at home.  Using myself as an example there is a comal (a flat cast-iron pan) on the stovetop 24/7 as a staple that might as well be part of the stove and although it only sees use in winter there’s a molnillo (a wooden whisk for frothing) in my utensil crock and a molcajete up on top of the breadbox.  These things you would probably not see in, say, a Korean home, but they’re things that add a cultural touch that aren’t explicitly tied to facial features.

As for exaggeration, I don’t think you should be afraid of exaggerating if your art style is cartoony.  Embrace exaggerations, just be mindful about the exaggerations specifically used in racist 1930s-50s Looney Tunes cartoons and don’t reproduce that.  Beta-test your concepts by passing them by people.  

Check out Action Hank and Captial G from Dexter’s Lab, they are very exaggerated and successfully so: 

Don’t be afraid to make a mistake and experiment. If you do make a distasteful design, then what counts is that you edit it. Before the Crewniverse arrived at the winning character designs for Steven Universe they have now, they went through a number of designs that they swept under the rug because they were unintentionally distasteful.  Now they have designs people have fallen in love with.  People make mistakes in the design process.  It’s the final design that you go with that matters.

#drawing #asks

[wakandan-flowerz]

Just As Bad III

A/N: Back again, continuing this series. Hope y’all like it, feedback is appreciated. Check my masterlist for previous parts to this.

Warnings: Cursing, Erik being an ass and not caring about your feelings, mainly just plot.

You stretched in bed, groaning as the sun came through your curtains. “What time is it?” you said.

“Half past noon.” Erik grumbled next to you, the sheets slack around his waist. You swung your legs over and pulled on Erik’s shirt from the previous night. You rolled your neck, popping it.

“I’m making French Toast.” You said. “You’re welcome to come help.”

“Nah, you got it.” Erik chuckled, rolling over.

You scoffed. “Alright. Sure yeah. You’re okay with working with me, blowing my back out and shacking up in my apartments but, fuck cooking with me.” You said as you fished a clean pair of panties out of your drawer. “Heartless ass Stevens.”

Erik smacked his lips and jumped out of the bed. “You always calling me Stevens. I have a first name, Y/N.”

“Well, until you start acting right. I won’t use it.” You said going into the kitchen. Erik followed you, having pulled on his basketball shorts. The words left your lips as if a switched flipped on. A burning question that had been bouncing around in your head for quite some time. “What are we anyway?”

“What?” Erik chuckled.

You opened the fridge and pulled out the eggs and milk, looking at him. You shook your head at him for trying to not answer your question. “You heard me, Stevens.”

Erik let out a laugh. “We’re partners in crime. Whooping ass and collecting a check together.”

“And we just fuck each other for fun before and after.” You added in.

“Shit, sounds about right.” Erik said pulling the bread from the breadbox. “Why?”

“How long do you think we can keep this up?” you asked pulling out a bowl.

“Shit, as long as I can.” Erik said. “I got shit to do. I got a score to settle.” His voice got dark. Erik only spoke like that when his mind went someplace. He never spoke about it. You kept your lives private from each other. The only thing personal between you two was the sex.

“Well, eventually, I’m going to have to give this up.” You said cracking the eggs into the bowl.

“Why?” Erik asked as he went through the cabinets looking for a skillet.

“I want to settle down. Yeah, this shit makes me money and there’s the rush of it all. But, I won’t lie when I say that the idea of a husband and a kid excites me.” You said.

“That white picket fence shit?” Erik asked rolling his eyes.

“Ain’t nothing wrong with that!” you said. “Live the life I never had in the first place. Give life to someone else. Pack a school lunch and sign permission slips.”

“Cookie cutter life. No thanks. I stopped believing in fairy tales along time ago.” He said putting the vanilla extract in front of you.

“It’s not a fairy tale that I believe in. It’s the fact that I would rather get out of this shit before it gets me killed.” You said.

Erik looked over to you, sensing your seriousness. Your expression was focused as you poured the milk into the bowl. “Can’t be taking lives if you aren’t ready for yours to get taken.”

“If I get popped, I get popped.” You said. “But, I plan on making sure that doesn’t happen. I plan on leaving this shit behind as soon as I get the chance. I’ll duck off, find a nice place, get someone to fuck with for the rest of my life, have a kid.”

“People like us can’t love anyone, Y/N.” Erik said turning around and leaning on the counter. “We ain’t built like that. We’re monsters. We’re on government watchlists. We’re the bad guys who make our money stealing and killing other bad men. There are no happy endings for people like us. You might want to get that bullshit out of your head now.”

“Well, I don’t give a fuck about the people like us. I care about me…and you.” You said turning to him.

“What are you trying to say?” Erik said. He watched your body language change. “You’re going soft on me.”

You didn’t answer him. You weren’t exactly sure what to say. You met Erik seven months ago. Yeah, at first you tried to kill each other then, you were partners. After that, you were fuck buddies. You’d shack up and have meaningful conversations. To you, you could rely on Erik. He may have been an asshole but, you couldn’t deny that you were attracted to him and it had nothing to do with his dick. It had everything to do with you guys were similar. To Erik, you were one of the baddest if not the baddest bitch he ever laid eyes on. He liked that you could clap someone like it was lightweight. He never met a woman as heartless as him. Erik could admit he was drawn to you. However, he saw you as a partner. Someone to make money and have a little fun with.

Erik didn’t want relationships. Loved ones made shit complicated. The less connection, the easier it was to do stuff. That’s why he’d be quick to leave when you guys were done. He didn’t want to catch the feelings even when something told him that with you, it would be okay.

“I’m not going soft.” You said.

“Then, could you shoot me if you had to? Just like you almost did that one time?” Erik said, crossing his arms. “Shit goes south and you got the option. You taking the shot?”

“If it was necessary, yes.” You said. You poured sugar and cinnamon into the mixture bowl.

“Good. Because let me make it clear that if I have to, I’ll do the same. In this business, you learn that no matter how long you run with someone, in the end, you gotta make yourself a priority.” Erik said.

“Oh okay. I see how it is.” You said in a grim tone. “So you’re going to cut and run now all because I said I care about you.”

“What is there about me to care for?” Erik said. “I’m just a nigga who you can work with and throw that ass back for.”

“So seven months only makes you some nigga to me?” you said going back to the fridge and pulling out the butter. “I believe we got something a little more than that.”

“You got these little love stories in your head, Y/N.” he said pocking your forehead. “People like us can’t love. Y/N, you can swear up and down that you’re going to get wifed up and live happily ever after but, that’s bullshit.” He said.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, Erik.” You said with your shoulders tensing up in anger.

“I’m just being real.” He said shrugging. “Live whatever fantasy you want. You and I always going to be stuck being the bad guys and doing bad shit.”

“So, what? We stuck with each other?” you said cutting the stove on and dropping the butter in the pan.

“Hell nah. We’ll ride this shit out for however long we can. But, we’ll eventually part ways. I’ll go do the shit I got to do and you figure out if you want to be a homemaker.” Erik said opening the bread and dropping two pieces in the batter.

You stayed silent as Erik helped you put breakfast together. You didn’t really want to hold a conversation with him anymore now that you knew his views on how things would go. He didn’t have to be explicit and you didn’t need to ask another question. You cleaned up and started washing dishes. You moved them to the other side of the sink to sit before you rinsed and dried them. Erik snuck up behind you and started drying them off.

“So, you mad at me now?” Erik said.

“Why would I be?” you said in a monotone voice.

“Y/N, come on now. We work, we fuck and we go our own way until one of us picks up the phone for a new job or we’re horny.” He said. “That’s it. I see the way you look at me. I know how you feel but, it can’t happen. This is fun, let’s keep it that way. Drop all that feeling shit. Let’s focus on getting this money.”

“Sure. Just partners.” you said in a low voice, shrugging your shoulders.

That evening, you and Erik packed up your clothes and divided the money from the job equal ways. You secured the apartment, stashing the weapons you couldn’t sneak past airport security and locked up. You both took separate rides to the airport and made it to your respective terminals for your flights. You had to go to New York where your main hideout was and Erik was going back to Oakland. You sat down in the waiting area, pulling your hat down over your eyes and keeping your nose in a book. You saw something out the corner of your eye, beckoning you to turn your head.

Erik sat on the far other side at his terminal, looking at you with a smirk on his face. You scoffed and shot the middle finger at him. He nodded towards the restroom and mouthed, “You down?” You rolled your eyes. A French woman came over the intercom and signaled that your flight was boarding. You stood up and collected your carry-on bag, walking to get in line.

--

You took in a puff of the hookah and let it out. You moaned at the feeling of tongue on your neck and fingers creeping up your dress. You felt the fingers hook into the seat of your thong and push it off to the side. You grabbed the guy’s wrist and pulled away from him. “I don’t fuck in clubs. Either we go back to your spot or we finished this some other time.”

“Shit, let’s go then.” The guy said. You tossed a wad of cash on the table for your waitress and grabbed your clutch. You hooked your hand on the guys bicep as he walked you through to crowded club.

Erik was scrolling through Instagram, stalking your profile. It was only a month and half since your last job together and he didn’t like what he was seeing. You profile was full of pictures of you, traveling, partying and showing off your body. The sly captions and posing with other girls and men had him fuming. He caught onto your most recent post and saw that you were at a lounge in the heart of New York City. He jumped in his car and found his way to you. Imagine his surprise when you already had a guy in your booth. He watched from the bar as you seemed unbothered by him until he started touching on you.

He grinded his teeth as you let this new guy suck on your neck and try to finger you. Erik gained a little bit of hope when you pushed him off and said something. However, he frowned again when you collected your belongings and started to leave with him. Erik beat you both to the door, pushing people out of the way and posting up outside, hand clasped over fist in front of him.

You walked outside to be hit by the cool air. You were looking down at your phone and looked up to your guy to figure out why he had stopped. “So, we fucking randoms from the club, now?” You looked up to see Erik. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I’m taking a page from your book.” You said with a smirk on your face.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” the guy said.

“I’m going to be your cause of death if you don’t bounce.” Erik growled. The guy slipped out of your hand and hurried off. You smacked your lips and looked back at Erik.

“Wow thanks, asshole.” You said, pulling your phone out of your clutch.

“Damn, I told you how it was and you go get some new dick, letting some bum touch on what’s mine. I thought you felt some shit for me.” Erik said.

“Well, first of all, ain’t shit yours. And secondly, you weren’t feeling me like I was feeling you. So, why would I waste my time? You and I are only partners and you definitely hadn’t called me for a job and I didn’t need you for any of mine.” You said.

“Oh? So, it’s like that?” he laughed.

“Must be. Now, excuse me while I look for an Uber.” You said tapping on your phone.

“Girl, bring your ass on. I fly all the way out here because I missed you and this is how you treat me?” Erik said walking up to you.

“Oh, so you missed me?” you said as Erik snatched you against him. His arms wrapped around your waist pulling you in. As if it was instinct, you wrapped an arm around his neck. Erik smelled amazing and you found a puddle in your panties from the new grill in his mouth. He looked into your eyes, leaning down planting a kiss on your lips, slipping a little bit of tongue in. You were bit surprised by this as you pulled away. “I guess so.”

“Hell yeah, I missed you.” He said, licking his lips. “You ain’t miss me? You had to have missed me, Y/N.”

“Ain’t nobody miss you, Stevens.” You said, playfully punching him in his chest.

“Still calling me by my last name, I see. That’s okay. You’ll be calling me daddy by the end of the night.” He said, making you laugh. “Now, bring that fat ass on. I got that ‘I miss you’ sex for you.” Erik pulled you along to his car.

“Oh, really?” you giggled.

“Hell yeah, backshots and all.” Erik said opening the passenger door for you.

#erik killmonger x you #erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik killmonger x black reader #black panther imagine #black panther fic #erik killmonger fic