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pascals-doll · 9 months ago

Text

like a virgin

joel miller x reader

🫧 inspired by madonnas like a virgin MY MADONNA CONCERT IS COMING UP I-

🫧 i always make my writings for joel so long but i love this man smm i could write all day for him it dont even b on purpose 😩

🫧 description: pre-outbreak!joel, babysitter!reader, reader babysits sarah, semi-fluff, DILF JOEL DILFFF, age gap (joel is 36 and reader is early 20s), smut smut, SMUT SMUTTT, dom!joel, softdom!joel(ugh i need so bad),sub!reader, hella praise kink, reader and joel are obessesed w each other tbh, secret crushing, body worship (reader reciving/ slight joel), pussy eating, possessive!joel, unprotected sex, p in v sex, hair pulling (j recieving), tommy is a teasing p.o.s 😭, no use of y/n, use of nicknames (sweetheart, darlin, and sweet girl).

you stepped into the miller’s residence weekly to babysit his daughter Sarah, she was the sweetest teen girl. she reminded you a bit of yourself when you were her age which was probably the cause of the instant connection.

you had been baby-sitting for almost 8 months now, leading to getting closer to Joel; Sarah’s dad.

Joel was more than a hunk of a man, he towered over you even with your heeled mary-janes at times, his broad build engulfing all his clothing making him look like a slutty construction worker with his roughed up baggy-blue jeans thats sinched around his waist perfectly.

you would be lying if you wouldn’t oogle the man while his attention was pulled onto something else. you would watch the way he talked so sweetly to Sarah, yet when it came to a phone call, his neighbor, a stranger or his brother, Tommy that would occasionally stop by.

Joel would have this assertive and unruly tone underneath that thick southern accent. he was a man that paid close attention in his life which is why he has allowed you to take care of his daughter with so much trust.

you would never know it but Joel cherished you and the things you do.

Joel would show it in very discreet ways, today was a prime a example.

“m’havin a famiy cookout later t’night, why don’t you head on home to rest, so you can come back to enjoy with us.” Joel invitied you with ease as you began to grab your belongings from his coat-rack near his front door.

you grabbed your purse, walking towards the sound of his voice which was right around the corner. Joel was standing in his wide living room.

“it would be more than my pleasure. thank you for everything again. im always very appreciative for sarah and you” you thanked him sweetly, eyes meeting his.

he stood next to his large bookcase that had an assortment of different books, personal objects, some cds/dvds, and his vinyls.

joel picked up a vinyl, sliding out of the slot in the shelving of his bookcase, pulling it out of the envelope, and placing it on the record player.

yet another instance, where you accidentally ogle him.

“the real thank you should be t’ya. im adjustin’ to single parentin’ and ya’ been very accommodatin’, thank you.”

your kind demeanor was the sweetner to his coffee.

you were now home, getting dressed to return to the Miller’s residence.

usually when you’re babysitting, you dressed lazily. you would put on a random shirt and jeans or sweats.

you wanted to cleanup a bit more, knowing it wasnt just going to be you and sarah most of the day; Joel would be there.

you threw on this cute blue floral sundress that was mid-length, it stopped right below your cross necklace.

you finished up by pairing it with white frilly socks with mid-heeled black flats.

you didn’t put much makeup on, only putting the basics before doing any last touch-ups and grabbing your black mini-purse.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

once you arrived, opening the gate and greeting a few of the people that were sitting on the porch before entering through the front door.

the sound of chatter got louder as you walked through his home. you turned around to the corner and his living room was empty but his kitchen was cluttered with different food and grill necessities.

you thought to yourself how they must be outside, you began to walk farther into his home till the back where the sliding door to his backyard was.

you began to slide the door open “oh my!! you came!” sarah squealed out of excitement, she came from restroom door next to the side of his sliding door.

you immediately engulfed the excited girl that ran into your arms “i wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl!” you exclaim while smiling.

“c’mon! my dad is outside grilling!” sarah spoke excitedly. she grabbed your hand as you opened the door and walked outside together.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

“d’ya invite that sweet babysitter of yours?” Tommy asks joel while seasoning the steak “i did, i hope she comes-you know, for sarah and all” Joel tries to play off with his words.

“oh my brother fancy’s someone, i see” Tommy chuckles out, putting his beer bottle up in the air slightly.

“i do not fuckin’fancy that young lady. she’s gone above and beyond for my daughter and i just wanted her to feel welcome” Joel explains himself, his tone laced with angry yet getting his explaination a across a bit hastily. Tommy’s eyebrow quirks.

“don’t say nothin’ else” Joel utters out in a stern tone, grabbing his cold corona as Tommy puts his hands up in defence.

Tommy turned his head, not the best decision as it made his amusement grow fonder. he turns back to Joel.

“well, ya’look at that brother” Tommy slys out, throwing a wink at his older brother before making his way back to his wife Maria.

It was you and sarah approaching, Joel actually choked on his sip of beer.

you were beautiful, Joel wasn’t an oblivious man.

Joel, himself even thought it was impressive how easily you cleaned yourself up by just some jeans and sweatshirt; at times just a shirt.

tonight was different, very different.

Joel finally has seen you outside of your different hoodies and pants.

he couldn’t begin to comprehend as you and sarah got closer and closer “Dad! she made it” sarah calls him out in excitement.

you finally approached him next to his griller which caused him to immediately snap out of his gaze.

Joel gave you his hand to shake “thank you so much for having me” you thank him, sweetly accepting as you began to shake pulling you in for a soft side hug.

you were right beside him, feeling the heat of the fire from the grill on both of you.

in Joel’s eyes, up close, your beauty was now beyond otherworldly. your light blue sundress bringing out the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell on your shoulders, and your jewlery sparkiling the tone of your skin.

you looked so elegant, yet you still managed to keep it simple. your winged liner making you look more mature than just the light mascara you would rush onto your lashes before getting out of your car on babysitting days.

Joel couldn’t begin to wrap it around his mind how you could possibly look so pure yet you were a woman. a hard-working one at that.

he knew that. it was something that made him desire you which felt so wrong.

“anytime, ya deserve to be apart of the family-shit! ya’already are” Joel goes off a bit nervously after ogling you. you gave him a soft smile.

“did’ya need help with the grill?” you quickly perk in as the fire began to sizzle a tad bit louder than usual “ah shit!” Joel exclaims, flipping each of the steak.

“careful now, brother! dont burn ‘em!” Tommy calls out, laughing with a devious smirk as he approaches again with cooler in hand.

Joel grumbled something under his under his breath as he focused on the grill.

“nice to meet you, i’ve heard s’much about you! I’m Joel’s brother, Tommy.” the younger brother introduces himself.

you give him your hand to shake “It is nice to meet the uncle tommy” you joke out causing sarah to giggle with you.

Joel couldn’t begin to explain the beauty you carried within you.

he was sure that if a god made you, it was Hestia and Aphrodite.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

the evening was pleasantly spent by you getting to meet maria and her pregnant belly, congratulating her.

then once it was time to serve the dinner, you helped Joel and Tommy by moving the grilled food off of the grill.

this consisted of Tommy making jokes that had slight insinuating under-tones that you were too naive to pick up but laugh everytime Joel would punch Tommy’s shoulder roughly, not being playful at all.

you helped bring in the food as sarah set up the dining table. once everything was set up and everyone sat down to eat, Joel’s grilling being beyond splendid.

when dinner was over while everyone cleaned up, you went to use the restroom.

you finished using up the restroom which is how you were now in Joel’s living room.

you began to admire his large bookcase from where he stood earlier to invite you.

you skimmed through, your hands softly going over the objects as you observed his books, framed pictures, his collection of dvds, and then his vinyls.

you had a record player of your own, sometimes sarah would ask you to play bon jovi and tell you where the record was.

Joel had an impressive collection, ranging to every genre of music. he had some legends on vinyls like Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, Lionel Richie, and Madonna.

you immediately picked up the Madonna vinyl, it was her second album ‘Like a Virgin’.

you grew up with your mom adoring Madonna more than anything which explains your adoration for her music.

“I was in highschool when i first heard Madonna” a deep voice spoke through the room, behind you.

you automatically knew it was Joel, turning around still looking at the tracklist on the back of his vinyl “this is my favorite album besides Like a Prayer” you say as you walk up to him, smiling.

“you weren’t even born yet” Joel laughs out causing you to jokingly get offended.

“excuse me, i know my Madonna” you joke back, giving him a playful wink which he just gave you a slight chuckle too.

“she say she know she Madonna, ay?” he gives you a slight smile, opening up his record player before inserting the vinyl.

soon enough the record player began to ring a classic 80s pop beat through the room.

you automatically felt yourself slightly popping your leg with the beat and snapling your fingers slightly.

“go ahead, Mr.80s” you state smiling, inviting him to dance “oh no, i-don’t dance” Joel quirks out awkwardly, now standing nervous.

Joel admired your confidence and comfortabilty in your skin, you were so young and full of life while also being so sophisticated and methodical.

you grab Joels hands and began to playfully sway with him.

Oh, like a virgin

Touched for the very first time

Like a virgin

When your heart beats next to mine

🫧

you sang the melodious lyrics under your breath. you felt your breath hitch as you locked eyes with joel, being in his grasp.

you could feel your body burn up in his strong hold, his heavy hand on the small of your waist.

your breath hitched causing your chest to push up against his chest. this felt so right, the way his hands held your body and each of your curves.

🫧

You're so fine, and you're mine

Make me strong, yeah, you make me bold

Oh, your love thawed out

Yeah, your love thawed out

What was scared and cold

Joel made you feel more than a woman, you were so polish and refined, yet so sophisticated and mature while all-looking ever so young and full of life.

he felt a bit of confidence which made him twirl you around, engulfing you into his embrace again with one arm; your back to his chest now.

you swore the sound of the song was slowly drowning out and now the sexual tension was ringing through the both of you.

you could feel his heartbeat thump against your back as his hands rubbed both sides of your waist to the rythem of your delicate sways.

you leaned your head back against his chest, his scent being the only thing on your mind.

you felt him begin to caress your hair with one hand as it left your waist.

“you’re s’beautiful, hope y’know that” Joel could blame it on his 5 beers but 5 beers wasn’t shit for Joel, he was very conscious of his choices.

the compliment sent shivers down your spine as you swore your knees grew limp momentarily.

you turned around, your thigh now inbetween one of his legs, chests pressed against each other, his hands gripping your hips now, and faces inches away from each other.

your lips were parted, you really were debating on kissing the beautiful hunk of a dad infront of you.

fuck it

just like that, within no time your lips were moving like you both had never kissed anyone before.

the song continuing to play as the both of you makeout in his living room while everyone was outside.

the way his hands ran through all of your body like he had never touched anyone, your lips pulling away to catch your breathe momentarily like you had never been kissed like that before.

Joel completely ravished you.

hell…now that he had you, he wasn’t gonna let go now.

“m’room darlin’” he mutters against your lips, before completely scooping you up bridal style. it caught you slightly off guard, gasping which made Joel smack your ass playfully.

“oh, aren’t you a gentleman?” you joke, your arms were wrapped around his neck.

“oh, don’t’cha worry sweetheart” Joel smirks out as you arrived to his room.

he laid you on his bed, going down with you while on top of you. he began to move his lips from kissing you to your neck, pulling down the small straps that held your dress.

each kiss that Joel placed on your body felt like a burning sensation, making your insides erupt with giddiness.

you felt like this was your first time all over again. your mind was racing, heart was nervous, and body was clamy.

and it was all because of Joel.

you weren’t sexually active at all recently, you were so busy with work, about to graduate with your masters, and even babysitting sarah; spending more time at the Millers than on dates.

you did go out but lord were the guys of this generation a bunch of sluts.

“what’s on your mind? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?” Joel’s rushes out accidentally, not wanting to sound nervous but he did.

you weren’t only one feeling like a bad teenager doing this for the first time.

Joel smelled your perfume and that was all it took to get his mind racing. he couldn’t begin to fathom how he finally got to have you.

the way his big frame craddled yours sent him into overdrive, his heart going a million miles per minute as he tries to figure out where to even begin.

for you, it might’ve been a year but for him, it was almost like ages with the years he’s gone.

all Joel’s mind could do was think of all the things he could do to you.

“Joel-hmph” you couldnt help but whine out as his hands massaged closer and closer to your arousal.

“there there sweet girl, you ever been with a man?” Joel asks, lifting your dress up, exposing your angelic white panties.

Joel was damned forsure for the filthy thoughts you provoked out of him.

“n-no, i have never—they were idiots.” you felt so small under him, feeling overwhelmed like it was your first time all again.

at this point, you could’ve considered yourself a virgin with how Joel had you and how much of a man he was.

“you ain’t gon’go lookin’ f’someone to take care of that pretty lil’mind, not after im done with’ya.” Joel claims to you.

you believe every single word laced in his southern accent; making your cunt pulsate wantingly.

“is that what you want to do, Joel? take care of me?” you ask him, lifting your leg to spread yourself open more as you wrap it around his lower waist; basically resting on his thick thigh.

the way you looked at him through your lashes, batting them softly. it was a genuine question, laced with purity and hope.

“if you’ll allow me too-” Joel began, pulling down your panties. you expected him to unbuckle his belt next but no; he got on his knees.

your chest weighed up and down heavily, each of his touch making your body hot.

“it’s my only wish for taking care of me and sarah” Joel finishes before hooking both of your legs up onto his shoulders, his tongue wasting no time.

you didn’t even get a chance to respond, a moan erupting out of you being the only thing.

the way he ate your pussy like he didn’t just eat a whole meal downstairs had your back already arching.

Joel’s tongue swiped along all of your cunt, fucking your sweethole “jesus, ya’taste fuckin’ delicious” Joel mumbles against your pussy as his tongue quickens all along your juiced cunt.

“ahmph!” your shriek sounding like music to his ears, if he didnt have his family downstairs, he’d have you screaming.

“quiet fa’me, doll” he says, taking a hand to cover your mouth as before diving back in.

joel’s tongue fucks into your hole this time causing you to let out a muffled moan against his big hand.

the way that man was eating your pussy, tainting your pussy with his spit, marking it all as his drove you insane. there wasnt nothing this man couldn’t do.

“god! j-joel!” you muffle out, your hands go to his roughed up brown hair, pulling on it causing him to groan into your dripping pussy.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer, your pussyhole squeezing around the tip of his tongue.

“this pussy s’perfect- s’all fuckin’ mine.” Joel spits out once he pulled away from your pussy, denying you of your orgasm.

your mouth was agape in pleasure but then quickly falling into a pout “don’t worry darlin’, my baby will cum…on my dick” Joel’s voice is sweet like honey now as he leaned down to connect your lips together.

you taste yourself on his lips, mixture of his spit along his lips causing you to moan at the mix of both of your filth fogging your mind.

the way both of your lips moved in sync perfectly was beyond intoxicating for joel. he swore he could get addicted to just at the look of you but at this point, both of your lips had him drunk.

he had shimmied and kicked off his pants while making-out with you. he was completely taking over you once again, your body turning small under his big one.

“are you ready, sweetheart?” joel asks delicately, pulling away from your lips to look at your eyes.

you told him yes, leaning up to take his shirt off which he happily obliged.

you had only seen his toned arms but it was obvious he had a strong build. he might’ve not had a six-pack but lord were his muscles chiseled like a greek god.

“you gon’ drool over an old man?” joel utters out, his hand going in to caress your hair.

“oh baby, you’re beyond fine wine.” you whisper. your forehead’s connected, lips away from kissing, and looking him deep in his chocolate eyes.

Joel could feel his breath hitch at what you said, you already had him wrapped around your finger as he worshipped you.

Joel thrusted himself into you, he couldn’t even fucking believe how tight you were.

“jesus- god, this pussy s-ah fuck!” joel’s groan was almost animalistic as your mouth fell as if you wanted to scream but nothing came out.

Joel’s cock was a size you’ve never had before, it didnt hurt but oh, did it stretch.

“s’big-oh my!” you moan out loudly, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him delectably stretching your pussy out.

“you got it baby, you got it” he praises you although he was too busy trying not too pass-out because of your cunt.

after a small moment of adjusting for the both of you, he began to thrust into you at a slow pace.

you arch into him as your whimpers and soft moans turn slowly work their way up to louder and heavier moans.

joel worked himself into you, his mind not being able to get enough of all of you. he still had to process that he really had a young beautiful woman with the heart of a home in his bed.

joel completely held your body with one hand, eventually putting a hand over your mouth again once his sweet thrusts turned into pounds.

your body shaking against his with each of his rough and hard thrusts, fucking your name out of your mind and replacing it wirh his.

your muffled little cries of his name “Joel! joel-ah! j-j! j-joel!” sounding like a sweet lullaby to him. he couldn’t help but smirk at your teary eyed-self.

you werent even worried about ruining that pretty liner of yours as he fucked into you.

“shh my baby, you’re taking me so well” joel coos out, caressing you hair before leaning down to plant kisses and suck on your chest.

your hands grip his bed sheets as your body begins to shake in pure sensual bliss that joel brought you, making your mind fog up as the build up of your orgasm is almost virginal.

“ya’look so beautiful like this-” praises left joel’s lips left and right, loving and indulging in every single one of his praises as he fucked you to your orgasm so sickeningly good; leaving the both of you intoxicated.

“you was made fa’me, not no one else.” Joel’s eyes were shut now, completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

it was almost like a prayer, a hopeful chant, almost a possessive plead.

joel had wanted you just as much as you wanted him “yes! god yes! m’close! it’s y-yours! all yours!” your pleasure-filled babbles as your mind gets drunk of joels cock and overwhelming orgasm.

“let go, darlin’ ” Joel works you through your orgasm, hips going from pistoling into you to the delicate pace he started off with.

your entire body shook as both of your sweaty hot bodies embraced each other through both of your orgasms.

the room filled with heavy pants and moans as his hand left your mouth and began to massage your hair.

you both held each other, not wanting to let go of each other.

“i understand what madonna meant by ‘like a virgin’ now” you giggle out causing a playfully scoff to come from him.

“alright alright, we need t’get dressed and head back down. would ya’ want to stop by tomorrow after i drop sarah off at school?” joel asks, his chocolate eyes now ridden of lust and replaced with soft hope.

you were about to tell him yes but another voice spoke before you.

“are you fucking done?! fuck! i can’t keep stalling Sarah and Maria!” it was Tommy.

2K notes · View notes

kakashixhatakesxwhore · 6 months ago

Note

Could we…. Expound on Shikamaru’s sexual prowess maybe??? I’m tryna see something….. for research, of course.

For research.

this took forever cause i hyped shikamaru's sexual prowess up so much, im sorry for the wait - anyway, thank you for the request, i hope this helps your research

Joint Reverie

Pairing: Shikamaru x f!Reader

Summary: Our lovely reader has been Shikamaru's fwb for a while now, and is waiting for him to return to Konoha from a diplomatic mission. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

W/c: 5.5k

Warnings: Weed (it's a Shikamaru fic, y'all), INTENSE SMUT, pussy eating, cock sucking, nipple playing, slut-calling (real brief, and not in a degrading way), cum-tasting, and penetration - also a lack of protection

Notes: not a part 2 per say, but can very much work as a follow up to this fic... anyway, how do we feel about this one, horndogs? is it up to par? also, Sasuke is the competition dealer, though he isn't in town much.

Masterlist💿

The speakers were such a worthwhile hassle, after you spend your day tangling them all around your tiny, little apartment. Two in the bedroom alcove and four around the living area - they set you back a couple thousand yen, but you couldn't have been happier.

As you placed them, you traced the wires back to the soundboard that your old man had given you. He owned the most popular pub in Konoha, Kintaro Izakaya, and had done the technical sound work at the establishment for years. He was more than happy to give you an old mixer board, and two old speakers to boot - but you really needed new speakers, speakers of your own.

When all was done, you plugged your record player into the soundboard and then plugged them both into the wall, flicking the on switch on your soundboard. Kneeling, you pulled the crate which held only your favourite records from under the table while the board came to life.

What do I want to listen to most?

You shook your head at yourself as you thumbed through the assorted albums. Colours flashed, titles whizzed by - the captured faces of yester-year stared back at you, begging you to chose them.

So, when you got to the beautiful, young faces of Roger Waters and David Gilmour (that's right, I said it, they're yum), you could help but choose The Piper at the Gates of Dawn.

You slipped the vinyl from its sheath and popped the lid of your record player open with your little finger. Carefully, you slotted the black disc around the anchor in the middle and closed the lid, placing the empty album on top of the glass.

With two gentle fingers, you tapped the play button, and the needle arm picked up. You got behind the soundboard, turning the gain dial by a hair, the lights flashing as the needle contacted the vinyl.

You turned the gain dial two clicks more as the radio chatter began to come through. You raised all the equalizer slides to the middle of their tracks, then pushed the rumble and high end further. The beeping began, a bit tinny, so you raised the low-end dial just above the low and high mid sliders, before pulling the mid range down by a hair.

The sounds surrounded you, standing near the middle of your apartment. They wrapped around you, and, as Roger Waters began to sing, you could feel a tear in your eye.

Fuck, you loved improving your apartment, even with such a trifle. It was your happy place, honestly and truly.

Feeling quite content with your work, you sat on your plush, grey couch. The springs whined beneath you as you reached under the coffee table to procure your rolling tray. Such a big day, with so many emotions, surely called for a joint.

Pulling one of your pink papers from the packet, you took a deep breath. The instrumental had begun, and the notes were still hitting your ear exactly how you wanted them to. You tore off a corner of the packet and began to roll a filter, in a desperate attempt to keep your mind quiet.

Alas, you were never so much as a thought away from the ache between your legs, and the only man who could cure it - even after so much sweat, even while rolling up a new distraction.

How were you going to last two more fucking days without him?

The diplomat always had to go so far away, and for such long swaths of time, but this was the longest he'd been gone since the two of you... had come to understand your relationship differently.

The past two weeks and change had been fucking torture.

He made your toys so wildly unsatisfying, and you didn't want to go out, whoring... well, maybe a little, but whoever you found probably wouldn't satisfy you either. Sure, you could've gone out to find another person to invade the sanctum of your body- see, no, you couldn't. Other people were so... not Shikamaru. They wouldn't make you see the whole night sky from behind your eyelids, not like he did.

To make matters worse, you were already running low on your reserve weed, which you had to purchase off Sasuke, of all people, the last time he was in town. It was Ino who recommended him, and you trusted your good friend's good word. Plus, your dealer was way the fuck out of town, and you were a fiend - no shame in that.

Folding the paper over your tray, you dumped whatever was left in your grinder down. Skillfully as always, you slotted the filter into one end, and began to roll the flakes down. Eventually, you folded the paper in and made a nice, little cone.

Sasuke's product wasn't too shabby either, like Ino promised. It was properly sticky, and almost had a crystalized sort-of look. It was good weed, but it was a far cry from that purple weed of Shikamaru's.

You filled the tip with fallen weed from your tray, and then screwed it shut before putting the filter in your mouth. With a heavy sigh, you scoured the table for your lighter and realized Lucifer Sam had begun to play while you were so preoccupied, thinking about Shikamaru.

That prick can't leave me alone, even in his absence, you thought with a smile as you picked up a white lighter. Does he think about me half this much? Does it piss him off as badly?

Definitely not, but if so - the next answer would have to be, yeah, totally.

You two were simply friends who seshed alone, who shared chocolates, who occasionally fucked and stole kisses. Nothing more, nothing less.

Dragging your perfect joint, you settled into the couch, pulling an ashtray close on the coffee table. You were too in your head. You had to relax, to gather yourself, and remind yourself-

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Man, fuck, you just sat down.

Throwing the small amount of comfort, you had built-up out the window, you got up from the couch, puffing your joint quickly, and drew to the door, not bothering to look through the peephole. Mr. Irizawa kept your building nice and safe - it was probably just one of your neighbours coming to ask you for a cup of sugar, or something like that.

Except, as you pulled open the door, you realized it was nothing like that.

Before you could even smile, Shikamaru threw something onto your couch and cupped your face with both of his hands. He pulled the two of you together in a swift motion and his lips were pressed to yours, hungry and hot, demanding and desiring.

He broke away for only a split second to groan, "Fuck, I missed you."

You smiled as he kissed you again, pushing you back into your apartment and letting the door shut behind him. With a matching force, you kissed Shikamaru back, and he audibly chuckled to himself, letting his right hand drop to your waist. He pulled away, but pressed about five small kisses to your lips as he did so.

Body alight, you beamed, "I missed you too. I thought you still had-"

"Nah, took care of it, darling" Shikamaru responded lowly with a shrug, clearly in the mood for other things.

Ugh, and so were you. Finally.

For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, smiling like dopes. Shikamaru's warm hand remained on your face, as he brushed the pad of his thumb over your cheek. You took in his sage green sweatpants, and his loose, black long-sleeve, and the way his ponytail seemed to droop a little. It seemed Shikamaru had the presence of mind to shower before he saw you - something you wouldn't have done if you had to go away for so fucking long.

Part of you would have liked a little bit of notice, so you could have showered, or taken out the trash, or something like that - but most of you didn't care and knew he wouldn't either.

Carelessly, you brought the joint to your lips, and Shikamaru's eyes flicked to it immediately, making him lean away from you slightly as he asked, "How could you possibly still have weed left?"

"I had to get some," you gasped, trying to keep the smoke in your lungs.

With a smirk, Shikamaru traced your soft cheek with the back of his index finger, before stealing the joint away from you. He hummed, "Good for you, sneaking into the Nara Compound - I was only joking when I suggested that I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Ooh, shit. You'd negated to specify where you had gotten your weed, honestly forgetting that Shikamaru had ever told you to dip into his stash when you ran out. That really was a crazy suggestion, one that you truly wouldn't take up.

Shikamaru, of course, realized that as soon as he took a long drag from your joint. His eyebrows furrowed immediately, looking at the pink joint in his fingers like it tasted of bleach as he exhaled.

"Where the fuck did you get this?" He asked slowly, drawing the filter back to his lips to take three, short, consecutive puffs. Shikamaru's dark eyes snapped to yours, betrayed. "I'm not mad - but I need to know who sold this to you."

"Sasuke," you answered immediately.

Shaking his head at a painfully slow rate, Shikamaru put the joint back to his lips as he looked at the ground. He took another drag and pulled the joint from his lips like it burned him. With a scoff, Shikamaru lamented, "It's fucking gas."

"Awe, are you jealous, baby boy?" You teased, stealing the joint back from Shikamaru, who looked at you with a certain spark in his eye. You clicked your tongue and pinched his cheek with your free hand. "Well, it's blinding you to taste - your weed is so much better."

"Fuck off, you're saying that to make me feel better," he chuckled as he watched you take a lasting drag from the joint. You pulled it away, passing it back to him. Shikamaru took it hesitantly and sighed, "At least I know you rolled this yourself; no one can roll one quite as tight as my doctor, eh?"

"I don't fuck around, man," you exhaled, creating a thick cloud around the two of you as Shikamaru's grip on your waist tightened. "Seriously. You've got the best product in Konoha, it's a known fact."

A beat of silence passed between the two of you as Shikamaru dragged the joint deeply. He held it then puffed up the smoke randomly. After another drag, he asked, "So, why'd you waste your money then?" He exhaled, "Huh? I know that bastard overcharged you, and I can't even stand the thought of you, seshing with him-"

"Sasuke doesn't smoke - he's a good dealer like that," you teased, trying to soothe Shikamaru's annoyance over.

Didn't work. Shikamaru's eyes snapped to yours, that spark catching to a flame behind them.

You shook your head and sighed, "Look, man; I wouldn't have gone to Sasuke, if I knew it'd bother you so much... I didn't think you were the possessive type."

"Go to Sasuke for anything else, darling?"

"No," you said pointedly. "And what about you, playboy? Did you get any strange while jaunting around the Cloud?"

Shikamaru's expression went from interrogatory, to relieved, to amused, within the span of ten seconds. He laughed deeply, "No, I didn't get any strange."

"Good, I don't need you to make me go get tests," you snipped, stealing the neglected joint form his fingers.

Hooking it into your mouth, you shimmied out of Shikamaru's arm and padded over to your soundboard while he took off his shoes. You turned down the gain, then pushed the rumble up again.

"Quite the set up you've got going on here," Shikamaru hummed behind you as you looked over the lights and buttons in front of you. You smiled, puffing away as you watched the mixer lights jump with each strum, each bang, each lyric. "Wanna give me a lesson, finally? If you don't, it's fine, just know, your buttons are begging me to push them."

He really wasn't kidding, as you had to smack away his hand almost immediately. "Woah, Nelly - paws off," you giggled, angling yourself toward him. You tapped the mono/stereo button lightly, and said, "This one does the least damage, but don't be rough with my buttons."

"Then give me something to be rough with," he suggested.

"Charmer," you hummed, as Shikamaru's presence came over your shoulder. You pressed your ass against him, already feeling his mouth-watering length hardening against you. Your eyes remained solidly on your soundboard as you played with the high-end slider. Pulling the joint from your lip, you mumbled, "You have me already, don't you?"

Indeed, he did. Wrapped right around his lithe fingers.

Shikamaru's warm hands found purchase on the curves of your hip and waist, on either side, moving up and down as his long fingers mapped the expanse of your figure. Warm, minty breath washed over your exposed collarbone, Shikamaru leaning down to kiss and nip at the tender skin playfully. You yelped, twitching against him, just like he wanted.

"As I live and breathe..." His words were so quiet, you almost missed them amongst the sounds of the Pink Floyd; but you could feel the very vibration of his tone against your clavicle. Louder, Shikamaru purred, "I was withering away without you."

Rubbing your ass against his length again, you leaned into Shikamaru as his arms wrapped around your torso. His forearms were so thick, the muscles strained against the long-sleeved shirt he was wearing. The scent of his piney soap filled your nose, getting you higher than any strain ever could. Shikamaru's hands glided across your body, pulling you flush to him, squeezes and caresses in their wake.

In a swift movement, Shikamaru stole the joint from your fingers and put it in his mouth as he spun you around against the table, hand remaining on your hip. He puffed the joint greedily, as he told you between drags, "There is less than a reason for you to keep smoking this shit - you've got a fresh ounce now."

"Works for me, sweetheart," you hummed in response, looking over to the package he had thrown on your couch. You leaned up to press soft kisses to his neck as you whispered, "You know you and yours make me feel the best."

As Shikamaru chuckled lowly, you could feel the thrum against your lips, as your hands clutched his broad shoulders. With that edge in his voice that drove you mad, he asked, "Me and my what, darling?"

"Y'know, you and your everything," you responded with a laugh of your own.

"I want you to use your words, pretty girl," he insisted, pulling you away from him.

Eyes sparkling playfully, and his signature lazy smile on his lips, Shikamaru looked absolutely perfect. He was so fucking handsome, all the time, but in this moment- cripes.

"Fuck, and I wanna tear your clothes off."

Shikamaru laughed lowly, ashing the roach in the ashtray on your table, "Then, tell me, what of mine makes you feel the best?"

Before you could come up with some witty remark, Shikamaru's gaze returned to you, a new kind of flame kindling in his eye. One that spoke of a lust that existed in the depth of his soul, one that commanded you to comply, with the promise of great reward.

"Do you want a list?" Your eyes darted to Shikamaru's lips as he nodded playfully, hooking his other arm around you now. You hummed, "Well, off the cuff, you've got the best weed - and the best dick-game, ever." Shikamaru cocked his eyebrow, so you continued, "Seriously, no one's ever made me cum... just the people in this room."

Shikamaru laughed loudly, moving back with you in his arms, pulling you along to the alcove where your bed sat. "Keep going. I like it when you sing my praises."

"Look at you; big, strong Shikamaru, soon-to-be Head of the Nara clan, demanding to be praised," you teased as Shikamaru collapsed onto your bed, pulling you on top of him as his cheeks reddened.

Sucking his bottom lip between his teeth, Shikamaru shrugged, "Exactly. Don't you think I deserve a kind word?"

"I think you deserve everything and a bag of chips, sweet boy," you giggled, pulling yourself to straddle Shikamaru's lap. Your clothed heat rubbed against the bulge in his sweatpants, giving both of you a delicious bout of friction, and making Shikamaru's dick twitch in the process. With a content lilt, you sighed, "You're so impressive, Shikamaru. In every capacity; mental, physical, business-wise."

"Think Sasuke's impressive?" He asked with a crooked smirk, trying to disguise the curiosity in his tone as humour.

"Eh, sure, kinda - nothing like you though, no one impresses me like you do." Your tone was so soft, as you continued, "Not in any way - you're so smart, and handsome, and so extremely well-endowed." Grinding your hips down, you leaned down to press another string of kisses to his neck. In a small voice, you said between kisses, "I only think about you, sweetheart... only you."

Grasping your hips with a true grip, Shikamaru began grinding you against his erection with vigour. You could feel the veins through all the layers of cotton that separated you, and a small gasp fell from your lip as his shaft pressed right against your clit.

"Only me, huh?" He asked as his fingers got lost beneath your shirt. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Fucking you, if I can help it," you answered instantly, sitting up on his lap.

You pressed your hands against his chest but applied a generous pressure to your seat as you continued to move your hips in small circles. Shikamaru chuckled warmly, still playing with the hem of your shirt. He looked up at you with a smile, his eyes crinkling into halfmoons as he did.

"Then, how about this for a schedule?" Shikamaru sat up a little as he spoke, grasping the hem of your shirt and pulling it over your head. He threw the fabric across the room, warm hands coming to your suddenly cold back, Shikamaru smiled up at you as he said, "We go out to a nice dinner, take a walk, then we fuck?"

Oh, fuck yes! Tonight is the motherfucking night!

You kept your cool. You smirked, leaning down a bit to catch his head between your tits. Shikamaru kept his eyes on your face, awaiting your answer, as his fingers drew strange shapes on your back.

"How about..." You hummed, pushing him back onto the bed. Shikamaru fell back, confidence faltering slightly as his hands slid to your thighs. With a bright smile, you leaned over him a little and proposed, "We fuck, then dine, fuck again, then walk, then fuck a third time?"

"You're the fucking jackpot."

His words were so mumbled and strung together that you could hardly make them out, but you didn't really care. Shikamaru's smile was back, and he pulled you down for another kiss.

With zeal, his hands moved up your thighs, onto your hips and up your bare torso. Shikamaru cupped one of your tits, immediately catching your left nipple between his thumb and forefinger, while one remained around your back. Suddenly, he flipped you both, so that you were lying on the bed.

Hovering above you for just a second, Shikamaru tore his shirt off and threw it to a corner of the alcove before leaning back down to kiss you. He pinched your nipple, making you gasp, which allowed him to slip his tongue into your mouth quickly. You hummed into his mouth, just so fucking content with how everything turned out - for once.

Moving down, Shikamaru trailed kisses down your jaw, then peppered your neck with little suckles and bites. You whimpered and twitched, only inciting Shikamaru to continue nipping down to your chest.

"Please, sweetheart, stop teasing me," you mewled as his lips captured your right nipple. Shikamaru's tongue swirled for a moment, before his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. You gasped, scratching his shoulder a little with one hand, "Please, please, please."

"Nuh uh, never," he chortled, popping his mouth off your right tit, only to move to the left.

One of his hands continued to play with your suddenly chilled nipple, as he tongued your left areola wildly. His fingers pinched, while his mouth massaged - he palmed your right tit and sucked the left, looking up at you through his dark eyelashes.

Your hips bucked up, seeking the previous friction, and you clenched around nothing. Rubbing your thighs together didn't provide any solace, because Shikamaru noticed almost immediately and put his leg between yours.

Moving your hands down, you scratched at his back, trying to pull him up even a little. It didn't work, and Shikamaru moved further down your body as a show.

"Patience is a virtue, darling," he reminded you with a gentle timbre, pressing kiss after kiss to your stomach and abdomen. "Besides, you know I like it when you get all desperate for me."

"Man, fuck you," you whined, your body jerking unconsciously as Shikamaru's hands came to your waistband. "I'm not desperate... I've just been needing you so bad, Shikamaru."

His fingers dipped below the waistband of your sweatpants as he hummed, "I dunno, I'm not convinced."

"You're so mean to me, you know that?" You shuttered as his fingers danced just beneath your waistband. "I'd get on my hands and knees to beg you, and you'd still make me do a dance."

"Well, you are the best dancer," he chuckled.

Your retort was cut off before it could begin as Shikamaru finally tugged at your pants. You were quick to pop your hips up so he could peel them off, and you tried to pull him back to you again. But Shikamaru planted his feet firmly to the ground and lowered himself to the edge of the bed, pulling you forward.

"Hey, I didn't shower-" You tried to warn him, sitting up.

Shikamaru pushed you back down easily and put your legs over his shoulders. Immediately, he said, "Hey, I don't care."

"Mean," you mumbled.

Without any build-up, Shikamaru leaned forward and licked a fat stripe up your pussy. You gasped, while he groaned, "Delicious."

Shikamaru pressed a myriad kisses to your inner thigh then - kisses, so sloppy, you weren't entirely sure he wasn't licking your thigh. But you didn't care, because his soft lips just felt so good against the tingling skin. The glorious sounds from your new speakers fell on deaf ears, as the fog of pleasure clouded your mind entirely.

Then, with another stripe, Shikamaru dove into your pussy. His tongue glided through your folds a few times, then right up the center to swirl around your sensitive clit. You could have screamed as he sucked gently against the bundle of nerves, until he released it to tongue your entrance again.

His name fell from your lips like a chant as your hands scratched at your own stomach, not wanting to fuck up his ponytail. Without wasting a second, Shikamaru reached back and pulled the elastic from his hair, letting it fall around his face like a curtain. You pulled his hair back, not wanting to miss a second of Shikamaru's face between your thighs.

A smile was evident on his lips as you tugged a little, and Shikamaru's tongue drifted up again to tease your clit. His fingers suddenly met your folds, now feeling cold in comparison to the fire that coursed through you. They dipped in, separating your folds in the slick of arousal and spit, only teasing your clenched entrance.

One finger pushed in, curling to stretch you out and hit that spot that only Shikamaru seemed to be able to hit. You cried out lewdly, invigorating Shikamaru as he began to pump his finger into you while he still abused your clit with his tongue. He added another finger, flicking them both against your gummy walls and bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

Just as you could feel a rhythmic clench building, you chased the light of your orgasm. You looked at Shikamaru with lidded eyes as he devoured your pussy, sloshing sounds abundant in the room.

Then, he stopped.

"I knew you would do that!" You cried out, feeling the light fade from your grasp. Letting goes of his hair as he stood, you grimaced while Shikamaru smiled so very wickedly.

"Y'wanna cum on my face, or my cock?" He asked rhetorically.

You rolled your eyes, but Shikamaru was looking for you to use your words. He palmed himself over the green cotton, not giving you what you wanted until you stated it with your chest.

You groaned, "Your cock... please."

"That's my girl," Shikamaru grinned as he bunched the fabric of his waistband into either hand.

Pleased and praised, you couldn't suppress the smile that took over your features. You shimmied up on the bed to give Shikamaru some room. He tugged off his trousers, massive cock smacking just beneath his navel once free.

Shikamaru's cock was a sight to behold, thick and perfectly veined. Your mouth-watered at the mere sight of it, the ache between your legs intensifying.

Taking the base of his cock into his hand, Shikamaru pumped a single languid stroke up his length. Precum gathered at his tip, making his slit glisten in your apartment light. Immediately, you sprung forward, repositioning yourself entirely to be at mouth-level with his cock.

"What's up, Buttercup?" He asked, stroking his dick again.

The precum accumulated so that a true drop formed. Before it could drip, you stuck out your tongue and caught it. Your tongue glided up Shikamaru's frenulum, then around his tip once, before you closed your lips around his head, sucking gently.

Knees buckling slightly, Shikamaru's hand came to the side of your head as he choked out, "You're not- hah- desperate for me, huh?"

You replaced your hand for the one Shikamaru had wrapped around his base, as you took more of his cock in your mouth. Pumping what could never fit down your throat, you bobbed your head, almost like you were nodding. You looked up at Shikamaru to gauge a reaction, and he was smiling down at you broadly, looking so relaxed.

"You're such a slut for me, aren't you, darling?" He asked, pushing his hips forward a tad. This time, you really did nod as you sucked up the length of his cock. Shikamaru tugged on your hair a little, and chuckled, "You're my perfect woman. All mine, aren't you?"

As you hummed against his cock, Shikamaru groaned lowly. His hips began to move on this own, pushing his cock against the back of your throat more harshly. You didn't mind - Shikamaru was always very considerate about his size.

"Fuck, darling, your mouth is so soft." Despite how lost in the moment he sounded, Shikamaru pulled out of your mouth with a shutter.

You continued to stroke him as he drew onto the bed, and until he pushed you back against the pillows. Shikamaru slid between your legs and lowered himself to you immediately, capturing your lips with his again.

On his tongue, you could taste your bitterness, and you groaned, feeling how wet his chin and nose still were. Shikamaru's cock fell between your folds, and he pushed his hips up, grinding against your bare pussy with his twitching dick. You whimpered, broken pleas falling from your mouth between kisses.

Finally, as if he couldn't take it anymore, Shikamaru sat up. He lined his tip up with your tight hole and locked his eyes with yours as he slowly pushed in, grabbing your waist for leverage. You threw your head back when his tip was sucked in with a squelching sound.

"Holy fuck!" You yelled, feeling like you were getting split apart. Your hands flew to his thighs, scratching and squeezing as you throbbed around him.

Continuing to push in, Shikamaru groaned, "I know, darling, I'm sorry."

"Don't- ah! - be sorry," you cried, feeling like he was almost in. You could feel a pressure on your lower stomach as he neared your cervix. Shikamaru finally bottomed out, and stilled, giving you a second. You didn't want the second, immediately begging, "Fuck me! Fuck me, Shikamaru! Please!"

A string of curses fell from Shikamaru's lips as his grip on your waist tightened. He pulled back a little and then slammed his hips back into you, watching to see if you'd take back your words.

You didn't, only whimpering at the feeling.

That was enough for Shikamaru to take your command for what it was. He pulled back again, this time almost to his head, then thrusted into you deeply. You moaned salaciously as he picked up a very passionate pace, hitting that sweet spot every single time.

A very moist pap, pap, pap sound began to fill the room, your slick already dripping from you and pooling beneath you. Soft grunts and groans fell him Shikamaru's lips, adding to the symphony already at work. Your grip on his thighs tightened, and the crescent-moons of your nails dug into his bulging muscle.

You bounced against the bed, being pushed and pulled by his hands, and reacting to the slamming of his hips. Shikamaru's left hand came to your tit, squeezing the tissue roughly as he plowed into you. A near pornographic sound came from you as he started to tease your nipple again, which only made him that much more zealous.

"Your pussy is fucking amazing," he groaned, pulling at the sensitive bud lightly. Still, it sent shocks through your body, making you feel so warm and tingly. "Fuck, you're so fucking wet for me."

"Only you," you managed to choke out between moans and groans. "Only you, Shika-aaa-maru. Only you."

"You're fucking right, only me." Shikamaru's pace picked up and he leaned over you, putting the hand that was attached to your waist beside your head. Your hands sprung to his back, scratching lightly, a slight pain lingering. He continued to tease your nipple as he asked, "Can anyone else make you feel this good?" You shook your head, a scream bubbling in your throat at the quickened pace. Shikamaru thrust into you firmly, and stayed bottomed out, reminding you, "With words, pretty girl."

"Fuck, no! No, no one! Just you, only you," you gasped.

That was the right answer, because Shikamaru started moving again. Clutching the rippling muscles of his back, you bit onto his shoulder as he continued to pound you mercilessly. His name was the only thing on your mind, so you barely even heard the 'I love you' as it slipped from your vocal cords.

Muffled as it was, Shikamaru heard you.

He kissed you again but slowed his pace considerably. His tongue slipped into your mouth, inviting yours to dance so gently, as his hips met yours in quite the juxtaposition.

Deeply, you hummed against his lips, and Shikamaru swallowed up every moan that came from you. Slowly, but surely, his pace quickened again, in even more frenzied thrusts. The rhythm was much stronger but started to get unruly.

Pulling up and away from you swiftly, the hand that was playing with your nipple slid down your abdomen, tickling you slightly. Shikamaru's fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles in time with his thrusts.

"Just like that," you purred, pleasure overtaking all your senses. "Fuck- yes- I'm so close."

Heeding you, Shikamaru changed nothing about his pace or position. You were right on the edge, and he was bringing you closer, and closer, and closer-

"Fuck, I love you," he groaned as you came, squeezing around his cock.

Your heart jumped to your throat, but the fog of your orgasm quelled your worries in an instant. You spasmed wildly around him, milking his cock and, to his credit, Shikamaru continued without so much as a stutter, not taking his fingers off your clit until you had ridden out your entire high.

Then the true sensitivity set in.

"Ah! Fuck! Shikamaru, oh my stars, holy fuck!" You cried out, starting to squirm.

Taking his fingers from your clit, Shikamaru gripped the other side of your waist and pummeled into your pussy a few more times before he slid out quickly. He took his cock in his hand and pumped it twice before pearly cum began to paint your stomach and tits.

He groaned as the ropes shot onto you, dick twitching with every release. You smiled broadly, swiping a finger through the pool atop your belly button. The pearlescent coating dripped down your finger as you brought it to your mouth. Shikamaru's eyelids fluttered closed as he watched you take the finger into your mouth and sigh with the taste.

"Fuck, were you in the Land of Fruit, because- stars, you're yummy," you chuckled, swiping up a much larger glob of Shikamaru's spend.

"Oh, shush, you jester," he chortled as he got off your bed.

Shikamaru drew to the bathroom a step away while you took a breath and appreciated the sweet-bitterness of his cum. The music had gone quiet long ago, the record needing to be flipped to the B-side. Shikamaru came out a second later, holding a roll of toilet paper as you continued to suck on your fingers.

"I don't jest - you should've cum on my face." When Shikamaru extended a folded-up portion of toilet paper, you scrunched up your nose and took up another portion to drink up. "What? I'm busy," you said. Shikamaru just rolled his eyes, still smiling as he leaned forward to clean you off, himself. You sighed, "Man, that's mine, what are you doing?"

"Gods above, you're nasty," he laughed, throwing a cum-soaked wad of paper away and tearing off another few squares to clean himself off.

"Nasty for you," you grinned. "Eh, loverboy? Can't be upset with that, can you?"

"You are so in love with me," he bit back.

You nodded, smiling broadly as you threw open your arms. "Yeah, and so are you. Stop being a prick and cuddle me."

#shikamaru smut #nara shikamaru #shikamaru nara #shikamaru x reader #shikamaru x you #shikamaru nara x reader #shikamaru nara x you #shikamaru fanfiction #naruto shikamaru #shikamaru one shot #naruto fanfiction

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sixpennydame · 5 months ago

Text

dark side of the moon⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ [chapter 2]

Pairing: Yakuza!Levi x F!reader

Word count: 6.2k

Newly out of prison, Levi is thrown back into life in the yakuza.

Series Content/Warnings: mafia/yakuza AU, flashbacks, slow burn, mystery, cyberpunk, sci fi, non-binary Hange Zoe, eventual smut, dark content, graphic violence and sexual content

Author's Note: A huge thank you to my beta reader @bitchymanlet - you were such a big help through this!

next chapter/masterlist/AO3

“Inmate 012025, Ackerman. It’s time.”

With a loud thud, the heavy, titanium doors slide open, and bright light fills the small cell.

”Hands against the back wall. Make it quick.”

Levi stands up and walks to the back of his cell. With a sigh he raises his hands and presses them against the wall.

Immediately a guard grabs his arms and places them behind his back, before clicking the cold cuffs around his wrists.

“Don’t give us any trouble now, Ackerman.”

As if he would do something today, of all days.

The two guards lead him down the corridor, past all the other cell doors; Levi can feel the other inmates staring out from the tiny window on their cell door. Their eyes follow him, wild and predatory.

But Levi Ackerman had never been their prey.

One of the guards presses a code into a keypad and another heavy door opens. There’s a series of offices, all behind thick-plated, forcefield glass. The three men move toward a desk where a woman with blue hair, deep wrinkles and uninterested eyes types in the air. With a blink of her eyes, the screen before her disappears.

”Ackerman, Levi?”

Levi nods and the woman takes a device that scans his eye, confirming his identity.

“Hold out your right hand.”

He does so, while she scans another device over his wrist. There’s a sharp sting, and then the glowing tattoo of his inmate number - 012025 - was gone.

“That takes care of the detection device implanted inside your wrist,” she informs in a monotone voice.

Levi touches the silver button behind his left ear. “What about my cerebral comm system?”

“It’s been completely deleted. You’ll have to have someone reactivate it.”

The woman moves to a back room and returns with a large vinyl bag.

”Here are your belongings. You can change there.” She gestures to a door just outside their office cluster.

Levi takes the items, walks to the room and closes the door. He steps out of the grey prison jumpsuit and stands there in just his underwear, looking at the stack of clothing he hasn’t seen or felt in almost five years: a black t-shirt, black combat pants, boots, socks..

He puts on each item, and wonders if he’ll feel different - if he’ll revert back to the man he used to be before he was put behind titanium bars.

But he doesn’t feel different. He doesn’t feel….anything.

When he finishes dressing, the guards walk him to the outer gate of the prison. The forcefield comes down and Levi takes his first step outside as a free man.

”You’re late. I’ve been waiting out here for over 30 minutes,” comes a voice from behind him.

Levi turns to see a tall man with sandy brown hair leaning against a cherry red vehicle. “I thought you’d done something to get another year added to your sentence.”

”Tch, as if I had any say in what time they’d release me.”

”You look like shit.”

”Takes a piece of shit to know one.”

Both men glare at each other, then the tall one smirks. “Good to see you again, Levi.” He pats him on the shoulder.

”You too, Farlan..” Levi replies warmly.

”Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

The car’s engine purrs as Farlan weaves in and out of traffic. Levi is enveloped by the leather seat, the glow of the neon accents inside reflecting off of Farlan’s dark suit coat.

”Looks like you’re doing well for yourself,” Levi says.

“The last few years I’ve been managing all our legit businesses, making sure they look good on paper. At least good enough that nobody will snoop around further.”

”So you’re a paper pusher,” Levi remarks. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

”Beats fixing the books for underground gambling rings,” Farlan answers defensively. “It’s the same concept though, just a different arena. I’m suited for this.”

Farlan had always been smart. He knew how to work the angles and how to get people to let down their guard.

They’d met at the orphanage they were both put in during one of Neo Tokyo’s efforts to, “alleviate the growing population of homeless children littering the city’s streets.” Farlan had convinced Levi that his calorie bar - the only thing they received for dinner - was infested with invisible larvae and that if he gave it to him he'd get another one. Finally figuring out he’d been conned, the next day he punched Farlan in the face and took his daily ration.

They’d been friends ever since.

During their teenage and young adult years with the Ackerman clan, everyone knew their names. They had their hands in almost every backalley operation - from gambling to fights and everything in between.

And if Farlan had been the brains of their operation, then Levi was the brawn. Farlan could shake people down through intellect, and when that didn’t work, Levi would beat them to a pulp. Together, they were feared and respected.

They had been equals. But now, after five years, Levi felt left behind.

“So where are you taking me? I need a shower.” Levi scrunches his nose at the musty smell emanating from his clothing.

”To your apartment. I made sure they didn’t touch anything. It’s all there as you left it.”

”Probably a dusty mess…but thanks for looking after the place.”

”Wasn’t that hard. Not like you had much stuff in there.”

”…and Isabel?” Levi asks tentatively, afraid to know the answer.

”Still functioning, and still entirely devoted to you. She could barely contain her excitement today.”

Levi felt a rush of relief. He never thought he’d feel any sort of affection for an android, but Isabel was different. She was a friend and comrade, and had saved his ass on more than one occasion, stitching up his cuts and gashes from a fight or standing beside him during a back alley brawl. But he was often surprised by how human she behaved sometimes, tearing up when she’d see a dead animal on the side of the road, or stealing food to give to a needy family.

Sometimes he thought she was more human than he was.

The buildings grew higher and higher the closer they got to the city center, their reach seeming to pierce the orange-red sky of the late afternoon. The next thing he knew, Farlan was pulling up to his apartment building, both of them entering the elevator decorated with layers upon layers of graffiti, and finally walking down the hallway and standing in front of his apartment door.

It was finally hitting him. He was free.

”I bought you some suits, hopefully they fit. Though you do look like you’ve bulked up a bit.”

”Not much else to do in prison but exercise. I tried to train as much as I could, too. I wanna get back into the ring.”

“After all this, you still want to fight?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just…nevermind. Take a shower, get dressed,” Farlan hesitates. “Oyabun wants to see you this evening.”

“Oyabun…” Levi repeats, the word turning sour in his mouth. “Your professionalism is getting on my nerves. You don’t have to talk to me like I’m some new recruit.”

“That’s who he is, Levi. He deserves our respect.”

Levi grimaces. “So Kenny’s pulling my leash already, huh?”

”Levi.. I know things were…strained between the two of you before, but he kept you protected while you were in prison.”

”Bullshit.”

”Believe what you want.” Farlan waves his hand in surrender before walking towards the door. “I’ll be back this evening.”

”Don’t bother, I can drive there myself. Where’s my bike?”

“It needed some tuning up since it’s been out of commission for so long. Isabel’s getting it ready for you.” Farlan turns to grin at his friend. “So you’re stuck with being chauffeured by me just a little longer. See you in a few hours.”

The door shuts and Levi is surrounded by silence. It’s a different sound than he’s used to; even though it’s the space he lived in for years, it feels unfamiliar and new.

His eyes scan the room; it really was exactly as he left it. Always the minimalist, his small sofa nestled in a corner across from a dining table with two chairs. No pictures, no books; the only personal item was an antique ceramic teapot and two cups.

”Petra.”

Suddenly, the lights fade up in the room, as if the apartment itself was coming to life.

”Welcome back, Levi,” the female voice resonates in the space, “it’s good to have you back. I haven’t been activated in such a long time.”

”Yeah, I’ve been…away.”

”Shall I prepare you some tea?”

”That’d be great,” Levi pulls off his shirt, “but I’d like to take a bath first.”

There’s a chime of recognition and then, “The bath water is ready. Please relax, sir.”

”Thanks.”

Levi had always felt prompted to treat Petra respectfully, even though he knew she was just an apartment AI - an assistant built into almost every home in Neo Tokyo. But it was so rare for him to hear a kind word from anyone in his life, so hearing her voice made him feel like he was being reunited with an old friend.

He takes off his clothes and turns on the shower, taking a sponge to wash away the dirt and grime from his body and hoping in some small way, that it might wash away some of the memories as well.

But those proved harder to get rid of. He knew only time could do that.

He finally sinks into the steaming bath water and a heavy sigh escapes his lips; he can feel his muscles relaxing with the heat, years of built up tension slowly melting away. The Martians of Neo Tokyo knew what an important resource water was, but now Levi felt it in his very bones.

Stepping out of the bath, he looked at his naked body in the mirror. He was bulkier than he was five years ago, Farlan was right about that. His lean, muscular frame, useful for street fighting and cage matches, was now replaced by more defined arms and chest; it was noticeable now, even beneath the tattoos swirling on his body.

A giant eagle, designed in the classical Japanese style, stretched across the length and width of his back; its wings outstretched and talons out, as if attacking prey. A red moon shone from his right shoulder and clouds wrapped around his torso, swirling up his abs and around his pectoral muscles. Over his left pec was the Ackerman clan crest, the Japanese character for power, 力, encased inside a circle.

That had been his first tattoo, when he was initiated into the Ackerman clan as a teenager. That felt like an eternity ago now.

His yakuza tattoos covered many of the scars Levi had received throughout his life, but there were new scars from his years of incarceration. He collected them all like badges of honor; evidence that he’d survived another day.

He found his electric shaver and erased the light stubble growing on his face, then decided to shave his undercut again, just like he’d always had it. But this time, he kept his hair slightly longer than it had been before. He slicked it back with a comb, exposing the sharp features of his face - flawless, except for one scar running through his right eyebrow, breaking it in two and barely missing his eye.

He’d forgotten how he'd received most of his scars, but that one…

…he’d never forget that night.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walks to his bedroom.

”Petra, I’ll take that tea now. Green jasmine.”

”Right away,” she responds.

As Farlan had promised, there were several suits hanging in the small closet. The yakuza were old fashioned, and clan members always preferred the look of the classic, tailored suit, in contrast to the bright and bold fashions prevalent on the streets of the city. Levi scans each one and decides on a dark navy blue suit with a white shirt. In a drawer are several ties, but he decides to forgo them and instead keeps the top two buttons undone, slightly exposing his chest tattoos that start just under his collarbone.

If Kenny wants him to wear a suit then he’ll do it his way.

He rummages through another drawer and finds his gold earring stud. The hole in his ear has grown smaller but he pushes it through, wincing just a bit as it breaks through skin. He welcomes the pain, though. Pain has always made him feel alive.

“Your tea is ready, sir.”

Levi takes the tea cup from the food preparation compartment and eases into a chair that’s facing his balcony window. How long has it been since he’s had a steaming cup? Tea wasn’t the type of contraband that could be obtained in prison, no matter what an inmate had to trade. He lifts the cup to his lips and takes a sip, breathing in the aroma.

”These are imported leaves from off-planet. Where did you get them?”

Petra blinks on. “Mr. Church wanted to make sure that you had the best for your homecoming.”

Levi’s lips turn upward into a faint smirk.

Farlan.

He guesses his old friend can afford things like this now. No more slumming it like they did when they were kids. He’d made his way in the world, and now Levi wanted to as well.

But first things first…

He finishes his tea then grabs his suit jacket. “Petra, I’ll be back later,” he says to the room, before stepping out of his apartment and into the city streets. The sun was just starting to set, creating a copper glow to the sky as it reflected off the high rise buildings and skyscrapers. Neo Tokyoites filled the sidewalks, bustling from one place to the next, but no one drifted an eye toward Levi as he walked along the city streets - just another face in the crowd.

The city hadn’t changed much since Levi had left it, but even if it had, he could make it to his destination with his eyes closed. He takes a right, then a left, turning into a narrow alley and scaring a cat or two before arriving at an unmarked door.

He knocks once, a pause, then two more quick knocks.

There’s commotion on the other side of the door, as if someone is scrambling towards it. Then it bolts open.

“Aniki! I knew you’d come!”

A small red-headed young woman throws her arms around Levi’s neck, practically throwing his body across the alley.

“See? Didn’t I tell you he’d come right away?” she boasts as she pulls him through the space Levi had once used for training. His punching bag was still there, gathering cobwebs in the corner, along with his other training equipment, but the rest of the room was now littered with electronics and various tools.

And sitting in another corner was Farlan, scrolling through his comm device as he lounged in one of the only chairs in the entire space.

“Isabel knew you wouldn’t stay in your apartment for long, so I thought I might as well just wait for you here. Saves me a trip, anyway.” Farlan smirks.

Isabel can hardly contain her excitement. “The trio is back together, just like old times!”

Old times…Levi thinks as he looks around the space. Everything - and he’s sure everyone - has changed, but it’s a relief to see that Isabel is still the same.

Levi puts his hand on the top of her head. “Glad to see that Kenny didn’t get rid of you once I was arrested.”

“What? No way! Farlan got me out of there the moment you were busted. He’s been getting me steady work ever since, working on bikes and cars, even some augments here and there.” Her face beams, “Kenny may have thought me a useless android, but I’ve been making my own way.”

That also gave Levi some relief. Throughout these past years, he’d wondered what had become of the spunky little android he’d saved from the wrecking yard.

Levi had always had a soft spot for things that were considered broken beyond repair.

“Isabel, I need you to reboot my cerebral comm connection.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, not a problem.” Isabel takes his hand again and leads him to a part of the room with a computer connected to a multitude of cables.

Levi sits on what looks almost like an examining table, leaning his face into the light above. “You’ve got quite the set up here.”

“Since I’m not a certified augmentation android, I have to stay under the radar, so most of my clients come from Farlan or from word of mouth.”

Isabel rolls her chair over to Levi. “Just turn your head to the right for me…” One of her small hands finds the silver button behind his left ear and with one swipe of her tool, pops it out.

“Let’s see what I can do here..”

There’s a slight sense of pressure as Isabel sticks a cable into the port, connecting Levi to her computer. She rolls back over to her station, clicking her keyboard methodically.

“All your contacts are still here…at least they didn’t try to wipe your memory for names and information.”

“Oh they tried,” Levi remarks, “but it didn’t work. Seems my Ackerman genes are good for more than just kicking people’s asses.”

“I bet that pissed them off,” Farlan adds, still scrolling through the air with his pointer finger as images only he can see moves across his eyes.

“Almost there..” Isabel says, intensely concentrated on her computer screen.

There’s a few more clicks of her keyboard, and then Levi feels a slight jolt of electricity through his head.

“And that should be it.” Isabel rolls back over the Levi, disconnecting him and replacing the silver button. “You should be connected to your old contact list now.”

“Thanks.” Levi pats her head again and she grins from ear to ear.

“I’ll have your bike ready for you tomorrow.” The red-head responds while Levi gets up from the examining table. Farlan gets up, giving both of them a look that says it’s time to go. As Isabel walks them to the door she puts a tentative hand on Levi’s arm.

“Aniki…once the word is out that you’ve been released, people are going to wonder when you’ll start fighting again.”

“That’s a good question, and one I’m about to get an answer to,” he responds.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

The Ackerman Clan headquarters was housed in a nondescript, four-story building, just on the outskirts of the entertainment district. The only thing that made it stand out from the other business buildings was the Ackerman crest emblazoned next to the door; no other signs were needed, and inhabitants of Neo Tokyo didn’t have to be fluent in Japanese to know its meaning…

Power. The word that’s synonymous with Ackerman.

Farlan pulls up and the door to his car lifts up automatically. “Oyabun is in his office - I assume you remember where everything is.”

“You’re not coming in.”

“Nah, not this time. Kenny wanted to meet with you privately, and I have a meeting to get to, anyway. I’ll see you later this evening.”

Levi steps out of the car, straightening his suit jacket before stepping up to the door. The moment he touches the handle the door unlocks for him.

At least he knows he hasn’t been completely shut out of the organization.

There are voices coming from the second floor - new recruits, most likely, being made to clean and prepare dinner for the evening. Levi remembered the hierarchical structure well; it was something he’d also had to go through in his teenage years. But unlike the others here, he wasn’t recruited into this clan.

It was something he was born into.

The elevator takes him to the top floor, which was reserved entirely for the clan’s leader. Levi walks through the empty reception area and knocks on the office door.

“Come in,” a low, gravelly voice answers.

Behind the door is a room split in half; the front part serving as a reception area and in the back, a broad desk surrounded by pictures of past leaders. The man behind the desk grins broadly then stands up, gesturing to Levi to come in. His face shares many of the same features as Levi: a sharp profile and even sharper eyes of a stormy grey hue. He’s taller than Levi, however, and leaner, with a powerful aura that fills the entire space.

“Look who’s back from the dead,” he says, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Levi scoffs at the phrase, but it’s true; the last few years in prison made him feel like a corpse, a half-life that dragged on and on. In a way, he has been resurrected.

“Kenny…” he says sharply, “you wanted to see me.”

”Of course I did! It’s not every day that I can celebrate the release of my nephew from prison.” He gives Levi a once-over. “You survived with all your limbs, that’s good. And you look strong,” he frowns, “but not any taller.”

Kenny laughs at his own joke and then offers for Levi to sit, but he refuses, standing in front of the broad desk with his arms crossed.

“And no better sense of humor either,” Kenny deadpans before sitting on the edge of his desk. “Always so serious. But no matter…let’s get right to business.”

At that, Levi finally sits, though he’s on edge and alert, not sure where this conversation might go.

Kenny walks behind his desk where a katana sword is displayed. He picks it up and slowly removes it from the sheath.

“You know, Levi, we Ackermans have been feared for our strength for generations, even before we were yakuza. This power has shaped us into what we are today. I’ve been preparing you to take on this role someday, but you’ve been a pain in my ass from the beginning: disobedient, disorderly, and headstrong. That fire in you needed to be beaten into submission.”

Light glistens off the katana as Kenny moves about the room. “I let you do those cage matches because it gave you a purpose and kept you compliant. But when you started earning huge sums of money, and weren’t paying your dues to me and your brothers - well, that just wouldn’t do.”

Kenny stands in front of Levi now, the katana held loosely at his side. “I hope your time in prison taught you a thing or two about respect, Levi. What I say, goes. Always.”

He pauses, as if expecting to get some sort of reply from Levi, but gets none.

“You were supposed to lose that match - that was the deal we’d set - not beat the humanoid within an inch of his life. You lost me an incredible amount of money, and respect from the Reiss Agency. So you needed to be taught a lesson.”

Levi’s hands ball into fists in his lap, his nails digging into his palms. He takes a deep breath before he responds. “Consider the lesson learned. When can I start fighting again?”

“Fighting?” Kenny laughs. “You think I’m gonna put you in the ring again after that stunt you pulled? Abso-fucking-lutely not. It’s time you started preparing for a bigger leadership role.”

Levi grits his teeth. He wants to grab that katana Kenny holds and slice him right down the middle.

He could do it - he’s strong, probably stronger than Kenny now. He could do it and finally be free.

He takes a breath. No, this isn’t the time.

Be smart…

Kenny presses a button on his desk and a few seconds later, a tall, blonde woman enters.

“Sir,” she says in a stern, serious voice.

“Levi, you remember Caven. She’s my wakagashira now.” He grins. “The title you should have had. I suppose you’ll have to usurp her someday.” Levi can tell that it gives Kenny no greater joy than to think of the two of them fighting for the role and for his approval.

Caven’s eyes slide towards Levi, her body on edge, as if Kenny could call for them to fight any minute. Kenny laughs. “But that’s a problem for another day. Caven, introduce Levi to the new shatei - he’ll be in charge of them now.”

At that, Levi stands up. “What? I don’t want to be in charge of some brats.”

“Oh, but you will, Levi. Because what I say goes.” Kenny’s eyes darken and his voice lowers. He walks towards Levi, looking down at him, the katana still in his hand. “Got it?”

Levi looks away, wordlessly conceding to Kenny’s demand. He turns to follow Caven out of the office.

”I guess this is when I’m supposed to welcome you back,” she says coldly.

”Don’t bother. We don’t have to pretend that we like each other.”

They both walk down the stairs to the second floor. “I’m not sure what you mean, Levi. You’re my brother. We’re all family here - or did you forget that while you were in prison?”

Levi clicks his tongue at the statement. He always thought the yakuza’s obsession with family laughable; if this was supposed to be a family, then it was the most dysfunctional one he’d ever known.

Not that he’d really ever known anything else.

The brief times he’d ever felt the true bonds of family was when he was with Farlan and Isabel, or as a small child, when it was just him and his mother. But those years were fading from his memory with every year he grew older.

“Speaking of which,” Caven opens the door to the second floor, where there are clattering and raised voices coming from the living area.

”I told you to clean this place up!”

”I did! Why can’t we just have androids do this?”

”There are no androids here, idiot. Oyabun is against it. Now hurry up, our brothers are gonna be here soon.”

Caven pinches the bridge of nose and gives a heavy sigh. “Connie! Jean! Get out here.”

Two young men emerge from the room: one on the smaller side, with silvery grey hair and a buzz cut; the other tall and lanky, his light brown hair growing slighting over his undercut.

They both look at each other then at Levi, mouths slightly agape. Caven clears her throat, clearly disappointed at their sudden lack of manners.

”Connie, Jean, this is Levi. He’ll be your big brother from now on and will prepare you to be a true member of the clan.”

”Levi… Ackerman…we heard all about you,” Jean says, bowing deeply. When he sees Connie still standing there staring, he pulls him down as well. “It’s an honor, sir…uh, aniki.”

They both stay in a bow and Levi shifts uncomfortably. “What am I supposed to do with them?”

”Take them around on neighborhood patrols and payment collections. You know, standard stuff.” Caven raises an eyebrow. “Unless you’ve forgotten the basics.”

Levi gives Caven a cold look, then walks over to his new younger brothers, their bodies still at a ninety degree angle.

“Ok, that’s enough. You don’t have to bow to me.” Levi looks around the space as they stand up. “You were cleaning?”

Jean rubs the back of his head nervously. “Yeah…then we were gonna start cooking dinner after we finish this…”

Levi’s discerning eyes continue to survey the room, seeing every hairball and clump of dirt left behind. “Oh, you are nowhere near finished.” He hangs up his suit jacket. “You. Baldy.” His finger points at Connie. “Go get the mop. Jacques – ”

“...it’s Jean, sir..”

“-- get a rag and start wiping everything down.”

“But we just cleaned —,” Connie interjects, but when Levi glances towards him, his mouth clamps shut.

“I’ll leave you all to it, then,” Caven says, sauntering away. “Good luck, you two.”

Connie and Jean immediately start their tasks. Levi rolls up the sleeves of his dress shirt.

”I’m sure you’ve heard lots of things about me, but one thing you should know right now: I do not tolerate filth.”

”Yes, aniki!” They both answer.

”I’ll start on dinner prep. You two join me when you finish here.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

It’s not long until other clan members start ambling into the building for dinner. Levi hears their voices before he sees them, and the corners of his mouth curl into a slight smile.

”It smells cleaner in here! Could it be?”

A tall man with long, blonde hair strides into the kitchen. “If it’s not the man himself! Oi! Levi’s back, everyone!”

“Pipe down, Eld, the whole damn neighborhood can hear you,” Levi chides, before shaking his hand. “Good to see you again.”

“Shit, I don’t believe my eyes. Levi!” Another man enters, patting Levi on the back generously.

“Gunther..”

“It’s about time they let you out..” comes a lackadaisical voice from the back. Levi turns to see a third man, arms crossed, leaning against the wall, a cigarette hanging from his mouth.

“Well you know, Oluo, I had to get back here and beat your ass back into shape.”

Eld and Gunther laugh, but Oluo frowns. “Come on, Levi, I’m a lot stronger now. You’ll see.”

Levi feels a bit uncomfortable with all this attention on him, but it’s expected; these are men he’d known since they were new recruits. He’d done jobs with them, showed them how to take a punch and even give them when needed. It’s amazing how much they’ve changed in just these few years.

He wonders what else has changed in this organization.

“I see you’ve met the little brothers,” Eld says, grabbing Connie and putting him in a headlock.

“I’m in charge of them, actually.”

“Damn,” Oluo laughs. “Hope you two are up for it.”

“Up for what?” Jean asks.

Oluo smirks as he sits down with the others at the table. “For the daily ass beatings you’re gonna get if you don’t keep the damn place spotless.”

Everyone laughs except Connie, Jean, and Levi, who looks at his two little brothers. “They are right about that.”

Connie and Jean eat their food quietly, listening to the stories being told around the table by the others about Levi. He shifts in his chair uncomfortably; he doesn’t particularly like being talked about like he’s some history report, but he’s content enough to listen, especially as the conversation shifts to updates on the clan and its newest exploits.

Hours pass with more stories being told and alcohol being drunk, until Caven walks through the door, a serious look on her face.

“There’s been a disturbance at Club Azure. Some members of the Jaeger Clan are causing a scene and harassing the hostesses. Levi, Kenny wants you to take care of it.”

Before Levi can even respond or refuse, she’s on her way out the door, but stops, glancing at him behind her shoulder. “And take Connie and Jean with you.”

“Fucking Jaeger Clan, thinking they can mess around on our territory,” Gunther says, his hands balling into fists. “Unfortunately for them, Levi’s back.”

Without a word, Levi gets up from the table and grabs his jacket.

“Those Jaegers won’t know what hit ‘em,” Oluo adds.

“Come on,” Levi finally says to his two brothers, who scramble away from the table and file behind him. “Let’s get this over with.”

Levi hadn’t realized how much time had gone by that evening until he stepped out into the brightly lit streets of the entertainment district. Signs flashed and holograms coaxed patrons to step inside their clubs, while drunks stumbled around them, yelling about which bar to hit up next.

Pachinko parlors, night clubs and host and hostess bars lit up every corner of every block; and when these institutions closed in the early morning light, there was still entertainment to be found in the sex clubs and soap lands.

And every one of them was protected by the Ackerman Clan.

“Does Hange still own Club Azure?” Levi asks as they make their way to the club, an easy walk from the clan headquarters.

“Yeah,” Jean answers, “but I’ve heard times have been tough over there.”

“Tough for a lot of the clubs these days, I heard,” Connie adds. “Members of the Jaeger Clan have been busting shit up around here recently and scaring customers away.”

Levi wants to ask more about this Jaeger Clan, but they’ve already arrived at the doors of the club. By the time the three men enter, there are raised voices amidst the smooth jazz music.

“We got ourselves a non-aug!”

Levi hears a voice say over the others. He looks over to the source of the noise and sees a man - probably no more than nineteen or twenty - being slapped by one of the hostesses.

“Don’t you touch me,” the woman says.

A few seconds later, he sees the man backhand the woman.

And that’s when something ignites in Levi.

“Stay here,” he says to Connie and Jean, wasting no time in walking toward the disturbance. The man grabs the woman’s face hard, saying something about not fucking with the Jaeger clan.

“Oi.”

From then on, Levi goes into combat mode, the rest of the world fading away as he throws the man across the room. He senses the rest of the men gathering around him; he deals with them one by one, barely breaking a sweat.

The leader reaches for a weapon in his jacket, but Levi is faster, his knife in his hand in the blink of an eye.

Even in the heat of the moment, his breathing is calm, his heartbeat is steady, and his concentration is laser focused. He feels his strength coursing through him.

The feeling of his fist against skin, his punches sending a resounding crack across the room…

This is who he is. This is what he does.

He blinks a few times when he sees them scrambling away, the room incredibly silent, until -

“Thank you so much, um..”

You’re in front of him suddenly.

Your dress does little to hide every curve of your body, and every bit of skin that is revealed shows not a single tattoo or augmentation. He blinks a few more times to focus on your face, and it’s like time stands still. Tears have formed in the corners of your eyes, probably from the force of the blow to your cheekbone, but your eyes are still bright, undefeated.

No longer able to hold your gaze, he gives you his name and turns away.

Why is his heart beating so fast?

When he reaches the bar he turns around to see you being whisked off by another hostess.

“Whew! Well that was not how I wanted this evening to end.” Hange says, leaning against the bar and looking at Levi. “And when I called Caven, I had no idea you were gonna show up. I didn’t even know you were out of prison.”

“I just got out today.”

Hange laughs and pours him a drink. “I bet this wasn’t the welcome you had in mind.”

“Who’s that girl? The one that got hit.”

“That’s Luna. She just started here today. Guess you two have something in common there.”

“She’s not augmented?”

“Nope. Pure as snow. Not that I’ve ever seen snow before.” Hange pours a drink for themself and downs it in one gulp.

“Where is she from?”

“Earth… Why do you want to know so much about her?”

That breaks Levi from his concentration on you. He doesn’t answer, but instead shifts on the bar stool and takes a swig of his drink.

“It’s natural to have those urges, Levi. You’ve been in prison for so long,” Hange’s voice has a teasing lilt.

“Fuck you, Hange.”

“Not even on a good day, Levi. But she might.” Hange gestures to the dressing room where you’ve been taken.

Wanting to get away from the conversation, Levi gulps down his drink and stands up. “I’ll take my guys and search the perimeter of the club to make sure they’ve left.”

“My hero, just like old times!” Hange yells out, as Levi and the other two walk towards the exit of the club. “Don’t be a stranger!”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

“Hange has a new girl working at Azure.”

It’s the first thing Levi says to Farlan when he picks him up the next morning. He hasn’t been able to think about much else since last night.

”You’re not usually interested in the products.”

“She’s from Earth.”

”So what?” Farlan counters. “There’s lots of Earth refugees here; in fact, many of them work in that sweatshop Kenny has, making fake….”

”She’s not augmented. At all. Not one mark or change.”

Farlan looks up. He knows where this is going. “That’s not a rarity for Earthlings, Levi. It’s a coincidence.”

“What if it’s not?”

”What difference would it make now? What’s done is done, Levi. You can’t change the past.”

”That’s easy for you to say.”

”Look, I know you want answers, but you’re not gonna find them in some girl from Earth. You have a chance to start things over. Don’t stir shit up.”

But it was too late. Levi’s curiosity had already been piqued. His gut told him there was more to you than what you seemed, and he wanted to know what that was.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Glossary of terms:

Oyabun - title given to the leader of a yakuza group

Aniki - “older brother”, used to refer to someone who is considered a superior

Wakagashira - a lieutenant, works directly under the Oyabun

Shatei - “younger brothers”, they work under the more experienced “older brothers” (kyodai) of a yakuza clan

Pachinko Parlor - a mechanical game like pinball, used for gambling

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wheelsgoroundincircles · 23 days ago

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𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟗 𝐏𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟗 𝐏𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝟑𝟖𝟑 𝐕𝟖 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 "𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬" 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫

This 1969 Plymouth Road Runner hardtop model failed to sell at auction recently with its owner refusing to part with it for just $37,440. The car has undergone two major refurbishments, one in the 1990s and another one more recently in July of this year.

The first-generation Plymouth Road Runner was cool right out of the gate. This was a performance vehicle, which is why all of its original engine options were extremely potent. You had the “entry-level” 383 ci V8 with its 335 horsepower and 425 lb-ft of torque, which as far as base engines go, was no pushover.

Then came the 426 Hemi V8 (chronologically), followed by the so-called 440 Six-Pack (or Six-Barrel) – bigger displacement, less power, same torque; compared to the Hemi. What stood out to most people was that the 440 Six-Pack was more affordable than the Hemi and it excelled in terms of mid-range and torque.

It produced its 490 lb-ft of torque at 3,200 rpm, whereas the Hemi wanted you to push all the way to 4,000 rpm for the same grunt. Now, the 440 unit was officially rated at 390 hp, but a lot of people believe that number to be underrated. It’s worth mentioning.

This particular Road Runner started off with a 383 ci V8 under the hood but would later receive the 440 ci V8 with a trio of two-barrel carburetors. Originally, it had a Limelight Metallic exterior with white longitudinal stripes but was repainted yellow during refurbishment.

Other current visual highlights include the black fiberglass lift-off hood, Road Runner graphics, chrome bumpers, dual side mirrors, chrome exhaust outlets, plus a set of black H-series-style 15” wheels with 235/60 front and 295/50 rear Diamond Back red-line tires.

Moving on to the interior, that’s where you’ll find the black vinyl front bucket seats and rear bench, a color-coordinated dashboard, the Hurst shift

#𝐏𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 #car #cars #muscle car #american muscle #mopar #moparperformance #moparnation #moparworld #𝐏𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡 #𝐑𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫

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brokehorrorfan · 4 months ago

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Vincent Price's spoken world album Witchcraft-Magic: An Adventure in Demonology will be reissued on vinyl for the first time in 50 years via Real Gone Music. Due out on September 6, it costs $39.

Originally released by Capitol Records in 1969, the 2xLP album features the horror legend giving a tutorial on the history and practice of the black arts.

it's pressed on clear vinyl with "Pumpkin" orange pigment swirl (pictured below). An indie record store variant, limited to 666, will be pressed in "Gates of Hell" black vinyl. It's housed in a gatefold jacket with a reproduction of the original eight-page booklet.

#vincent price #horror #classic horror #witchcraft #black magic #dark arts #real gone music #vinyl #gift #edward scissorhands #house on haunted hill #the fly #the last man on earth #house of wax #the abominable dr. phibes

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bjtch-craft · 11 months ago

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"I'm a Rockstar Babe"

Todd Ingram X Bottom Male! Reader

☆ Summary: [Name] reunites with an old high-school friend turned rockstar things take a turn when they restart their old high-school ways.

☆ NSFW

☆Request: Yes or No

☆ Word count: 2,836

☆Genre: Angst to Smut (Kinda)

☆Warnings: Smut, degradation, manipulation (kinda, tbh I just tried making him cocky but rereading it it sounds like bro is manipulating), Bl♡wjobs, slapping, just douchy rockstar things, spitting (he's one of those ppl)

☆Authors note: Dude, I rewatched the movie and reread the novels, and why is Todd so mf fine like WHAT? And why are there no stories about this man? Anyways enjoy!! (P.s this has been in my drafts for like 2 months now and I've never finished editing it for some reason...)

Also look at the comic version of him like WHAT A CUTIE like yeah sure he's arrogant, narcissistic, uncaring, and may or may not be a pathological liar, and a walking red flag but like that red looking a little orange so??? PRAYING SOME OF YALL READ THIS!!

Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.

10:15 P.M. - some time earlier

[Name] was shoved and pushed around by the hundreds of thousands of fans who had gathered to watch the band play. The band in question was none other than The Clash at Demonhead. [Name] new one of the members (while technically two if you count Envy but they didn’t know each other. They were more of acquaintances really.) Todd Ingram who he was close friends with. Really close.

He'd given him head a couple of times (and slept with him too) but that didn't mean anything to them (yes it did.) it was what Todd considered a "bro-job" whatever the fuck that was. But that's not important (yes it is) what is important is how quickly their friendship ended after he got with Envy. They tried to keep in touch but after the band blew the absolute fuck up he cut ties with him.

Did it hurt? Yes. A lot. But [Name] didn't let it get to him he still supported Todd even if Todd himself didn't know it. [Name] bought every CD, vinyl, and cassette tape, and got tickets to most shows. He even tried to get backstage passes to rekindle his relationship with Todd but the prices were far out of his price range.

There have been times when for a quick second he'd seen Todd after a show or two and waved to him or said a quick word but he didn't recognize him. Which also hurt. How can you not recognize someone you spent almost TEN YEARS of your life with? But [Name] was determined to catch up with his best friend so after pulling a couple of night shifts and saving up some money he... still didn’t have enough.

10: 50 P.M.

"Todd's so hot!"

"Jesus Envys even hotter in person!"

"Why's that chick got a robotic arm?"

These are just some of the things [Name] heard throughout the event which was on the verge of ending.

12:10 A.M. - Later

The concert was over and [Name] pushed and shoved his way out of the venue and quickly rushed towards the back of the building looking for the band.

"Come on please don't tell me I missed them!"

His shoes thudded against the gravel, and as he rounded the corner a gate came into view.

"No. No, no, no, no!"

The gate door was slid open. How safe right?

"Envy? Do you wanna get a bite to eat or something?"

[Name] stopped for a moment as he saw Todd standing there his guitar case in hand talking to Envy. He took a deep breath and stepped through the gates. Fuck?

"T-todd?"

Todd turned to look at him a look of shock and anger upon his face.

"Who the hell let you in" Todd asked as he stepped closer to [Name] his voice coming off as aggressive as his eyes and hair started to glow.

"N-no one the gate was open."

"So you just snuck in?"

"I'm [Name], [First name], [Last name] we went to high school together. Remember?"

Todd's eyes and hair stopped glowing as his hair drifted back down in front of his face.

"You're kidding?!"

Todd dropped his guitar case and ran up to [Name] his tough guy rockstar persona shedding completely. He threw his arms around [Name] and pulled him into his chest. [Name] could feel the heat rising to two places as his face was smushed into Todd's rather large pecs.

"Todd you're squishing me..." [Name] said his voice muffled.

"Sorry!" He pulled away. "Jesus it's been a long time since we've seen each other... I'm a Rockstar!"

"I can see that!"

"Todd, what the fuck is going on," Envy asked?

Todd turned to look at them wrapping his arm around [Name's] waist. "This is [Name] from high school! He's my best friend remember?"

"While to me he looks like a fucking groupie! Let's go" Envy replied.

"I'm not a groupie..."

"Do you think he can come back to the motel with us?"

"No."

"Find some other cheap motel to fuck in," The Bionic arm bitch said.

"He's not a groupie and we're not gonna fuck! He's my friend and I wanna catch up with him!"

"Find. Another. Motel." Envy said the tone of her voice showed her annoyance more than anything.

12:30 A.M.

And they did find a cheap motel in an extremely unsafe part of town. Fits the stereotype, huh? A rockstar takes one of his fans to a cheap rundown-looking motel just to get it in.

[Name] once again was hugging Todd but this time was looking up at him.

"I'm so sorry for ghosting you [Name]."

"It's fine."

Todd's hands traveled down [Name's] back and reached his ass and groped it firmly, making [Name] let out an involuntary yelp. He pushed Todd off of him, causing the blonde boy to let out a laugh.

"What's the matter [Name] just like old times!"

"Todd aren't you dating Envy or something?"

He shifted his weight on his feet annoyingly.

"I'm a Rockstar babe we don't date," Todd said cockily.

"Oh?"

"I'm gonna hop in the shower. I know I reek of sweat... care to join me?"

"Smooth Todd.... real smooth."

He winked at [Name] and waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a minute or two he heard the shower go on.

"Do I wanna do this... again?"

The first time [Name] and Todd ever did anything together was on his eighteenth birthday. They were both unbelievably drunk, and both were bored lying on Todd's bed in silence. One of them now and then would say something, and they would have a short conversation.

"H-heyyy~ [Name] can I ask you for a favor," Todd asked his words coming out slurred.

"Yeah- hic! What'sss ~'s up?"

"Do you think you could um... s-suck me off?"

"Why?"

"Well, I'm one drunk! And two horny as fuck~! So can you?"

"You know what fuck it! You are my best friend!"

[Name] slid his basketball shorts off and then his boxers and grabbed at his length.

"I've never done this before so um... bear with me~."

Todd nodded his head a goofy grin on his face. "Do it as if someone's doing yours."

[Name] took him into his mouth slowly going down inch by inch the girth was almost too much to handle. Almost.

But that was years ago. They were two dumb eighteen-year-olds who were just helping each other out. But [Name] didn't feel that way anymore... but reminiscing on their old days made [Name] slowly begin to get hard in the shorts Todd had given him.

[Name] rubbed himself through the fabric and pushed down on it, making him release a soft moan. He needed Todd he didn't realize how badly he did until right then and there. The door opened to the bathroom, and [Name] quickly through the blanket over his lap.

Todd walked out with just a towel around his waist, his bulge catching [Names] eye as well as his body, which was still wet and glistened in the light.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting another pair of boxers, I forgot to bring them into the shower..." Todd looked at [Name] and noticed the tent that was forming underneath the blanket. "Aw, are you happy to see me like this again, baby?"

"What! No!"

"Come on..." He said huskily. The cockiness was back. "I heard you moan... were you thinking of the times I fucked you? The times you begged me to fill you up? The times I came on that pretty face of yours?"

[Name] could feel his cock growing harder with each question.

"N-no" [Name] whimpered out.

Todd walked to the side of the bed grabbed [Name's] hand and placed it on his groin.

"You miss my fat cock don't you," He asked his voice sounding oddly humiliating.

"I don't have to say anything."

Todd started to move his hips grinding his bulge against the palm of [Names] hand.

"Todd we can't... you have a girlfriend."

"I told you we rockstars don't really - truly date, and if anything, it's just another bro-job, remember?"

[Name] pulled his hand away and sat up and using both hands opened Todd's towel up causing his cock to pop out and slap against his happy trail.

"Fuck~," [Name] whispered out.

[Name] reached out and pumped his cock twice.

"Yeah that's it~ I know you fucking missed it haven't you?"

[Name] let go of Todd's cock and adjusted his position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Todd backed up a little.

"Please don't like- hurt me that much. Please?"

Todd chuckled and ran his hand through his wet hair.

"You sweet dumb thing, you know I can't promise that."

[Name] grabbed Todd's cock once more and spat on it and stroked him off spreading the saliva over his cock.

"I haven't done this in a long time... so I'm a little rusty."

Todd smiled down at him. The grin was a mixture of amusement and humiliation.

[Name] placed the tip on his tongue and licked it gently before wrapping his lips around it and slowly going down on it.

[Name] couldn't lie he truly did miss this. Not only did he enjoy it, but it honestly made them closer as friends.

[Name] gagged on the base as he looked up at Todd with tearful eyes.

"Aww you look so cute with my big cock in your mouth," Todd said softly his voice coated in lust as he gently patted [Name's] cheek.

[Name] began to slowly come off his cock before Todd placed a hand on the back of his skull and slammed him back down causing him to gag and for drool to pour out of the sides of his mouth.

"Mmm-hmm-agh." [Name] groaned out.

Todd pulled his cock out of the boy's mouth and slapped it on either side of the guy's cheek.

"You took it so well [Name]~."

[Name] looked up at Todd with innocent eyes, his tongue sticking out a little as he gasped for air.

"Jesus you look so fucking gorgeous."

"I-I think you bruised the back of my throat!"

Todd grabs [Names] chin as he angles his head straight aligning his cock with [Names] lips.

Todd spat on his cock (and on [Names] face) and slammed it down [Names] throat before pulling out. [Name] stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe down his cock.

"You're such a fucking slut baby. I bet you've been craving my cock since you heard about our band haven't you?"

[Name] nodded his head embarrassingly. Todd placed a hand on the back of [Names] head and leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips as his hands traveled down his body. His hands reached the bottom of the boy's shirt and began to pull it up over his head, breaking the kiss in the process.

Todd pushes [Name] down onto the bed by his chest and crawls on top of him, attacking his neck, causing [name] to let out a soft moan. Todd kisses down his neck while unbuckling [Names] belt and gently pulls them off along with his boxers.

"I don't reckon you have a condom do you?"

"I have one in my wallet in my left pocket," [Name] says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Todd grabs [Names] jeans off the floor and pulls out the condom from the wallet before discarding them back onto the floor.

Todd rips the wrapping of the condom off with his teeth and slides the rubber on. He places [Bames] legs on his shoulders and lines himself up at his entrance.

[Name] squeezes his eyes shut as Todd pushes himself into him. A sudden wave of pain and pleasure washes over him, causing him to grab onto the sheets, twisting them in his hands. A soft whimper escapes his lips as Todd continues to push deeper into him.

"Shit- Todd, you're so fucking- ngh~ big!" [Name] whimpered out, causing Todd to look down at him with a cocky grin.

Todd had pushed himself into the other boy and slowly began to pull back out, only to slam back into him, which earned him a low groan.

"Does that feel good?"

[Name] nodded his head and let out a whimper. Todd began to rock his hips in and out of him, the tip occasionally brushing against his prostate. His thirst got faster and quicker he reached down and grabbed [Name's] hands and placed them above his head.

Todd began pounding into [Name]. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as well as screams of pleasure from both boys.

"Ugh~ F-fuck! You're going to har-!" [Name] wasn't able to finish his sentence as Todd delivered a gentle (but still hard) slap across his face.

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!" Todd growled out.

[Names] cock twitched as pre-cum drizzled down his cock causing a moan to escape from his lips.

"Don't tell me you're into this shit you slut?"

"S-s-shut up Todd~"

Todd smirked and began rocking his hips.

"How bad do you want it?"

"W-what?" [Name] stuttered.

"I can pull out right now and leave and not let you finish you."

"Please don't~ I'll do anything!"

"Then admit it.'

"What?"

"Admit you're a filthy whore" Todd said his voice thick with lust.

"I'm not going to- ah~!"

Todd pulled out of [Name] leaving him feeling empty and somehow even more fucking desperate.

"Todd please" [Name] begged.

"Then say it."

"I-I’m a whore okay? Is that what you want to hear from me? I'm a fucking slut for you okay?!"

Todd looked down at [Name] with a cocky grin.

"Good boy."

Todd leaned back over [Name] and placed a soft kiss on his lips before pushing himself back into him. He wrapped his hand around [Name's] throat and began pounding into him. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room once again.

Todd raised his hand and brought it across [Names] face with enough power to cause a sting of pain leading [Name] to let out a dry moan.

"I can't believe your into this shit!" Todd said with a cheesy grin.

"Shut up!" The boy underneath him whined out.

Todd smirked and removed his hand from [Names] neck and grabbed him by the waist and slowed his thrusts.

"What are you- agh~!"

Todd pulled [Name] into him driving his cock deeper into him pushing past his prostate. [Names] jaw dropped as the sudden feeling causing a high pitched moan to erupt from his throat. Todd took this opportunity and grabbed his jaw holding it open and dipped his thumb into his mouth.

"Don't close your mouth got that?"

[Name] replied with a whimper as Todd's thurst became annoyingly slow as a string of spit slowly began to fall from his lips and landed in [Names] mouth.

[Named] closed his mouth after Todd gave him a look that practically yelled at him, too. Todd's slow thrust became faster and faster. Todd wrapped his hand around [Name's] dick and began jerking him off as [Name] placed his palm at the back of Todd's head.

"I'm so close!" Todd groaned out as his rhythm began to go out of sync.

His movements became harder and harder as he felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing.

"W-where- fuck~ where do you want it?" He moaned out.

"On me..."

Todd placed a hand behind [Names] head as his thurst became sloppy he spat once again at [Name] the salvia covering his face before pulling out and jerking himself off.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With one final moan ropes of cum erupted from his cock covering [Names] body in white ropes. Todd pumped [Name's] cock for a minute before he came their cum mixing on his stomach. Todd scooped up some of his cum off of the boy's body with his index finger and popped it into [Names] mouth.

"How's it taste?"

"Salty... can you get me a towel?"

1:35 AM

[Name] lay on the cheap hotel's mattress, his head on Todd's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Hey, have you ever thought of being a roadie?'

"A what?"

"A roadie helps the band set up... you could be one for us so we could keep in touch and..." He wrapped his hand around [Names] body and groped his ass "Have some more time to ourselves."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THIS MAN IS SO FINE ARGH. I NEED HIM SO BAD LIKE I WANT HIM TO FULLY REARRANGE MY INSIDES.

Authors note!!

Again, sorry for the break. School is still once again kicking my ass :) I do plan on writing more over Christmas break, but I do have like half-written stories in my drafts, so here are some of them. (Some of them have titles, but they are to be determined, so kill me or wtv) .

Darry Jenner x Male reader (Fluff)

Miguel Ohara x Male reader (Smut)

Chad Meeks x Male reader (TBD)

Simon Kalivoda x Male reader (Fluff)

#Spotify #scott pilgrim #todd ingram x male reader #brandon routh #i need this man so bad #scott pilgram vs the world #lgbtq #gay #todd ingram #todd ingram x reader

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bettyshoweduptotheparty · 1 year ago

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Midnights is defined by duality: The story of an unreliable narrator and performance art (Part 1)

One year on, I think I've finally figured out what midnights is about. And it might surprise you.

The midnights album has just celebrated its first anniversary. And having listened to these songs for the last 12 months, staying up late to watch live streams of the Eras tour, and at times being unable to escape news about Taylor on every medium, I finally have an idea that makes all of this make sense: This is Taylor's duality era. And she wants us to notice. Join me on the ride if you want to know more :)

I made a post a few weeks ago about how the Midnights aesthetic has the ‘two Taylors’ duology: Private vs public, which is the lead theme that carries over into the music and most recently also into her public image. Midnights had a mismatched visual to it from the very beginning with the depressed 70s look (announcement photo and vinyl covers) and the glamourous midnight blue (cover image and public appearances).

The two Taylors in the Anti Hero mv really drove home the message for me that this album is about two versions of the same story, and Taylor is the writer and narrator. And while I'm sure that these two versions have existed for a lot longer than the midnights era, they have not previously been so prominently next to each other. In fact, the very point of having the public narrative, is to keep Taylor's private life out of the public eye. She has never shied away from providing the 'stories' that her fans want to see in order to relate to her music, and as the girl that made her fame with songs about heartbreak and fairytale princes, that usually meant being seen with a man that these songs could be attributed to. And she made sure people would make the connection, be it with scarves that change ownership, or foxes on shirts:

(Btw you can't deny how effective this was, with just a few photos she managed to hang an entire album on each of these men!)

So, acting is not new to Taylor. In addition to appearing in a few feature films and TV shows since 2010, she's done this public performance for well over a decade now. And she has been vocal in recent years about her intention to go into filmmaking, so we know she's able to tell stories in multiple ways. She's a storyteller first and foremost, maybe the best of our generation. But is she a reliable narrator?

What does 'unreliable narrator' mean?

A story told by a so-called unreliable narrator, is usually a first person narration, where it turns out that the person telling the story was either lying or in some other way unable to give a truthful account of events (e.g. hallucinating or dreaming). That usually means that the audience is left with having to interpret for themselves what really happened and what was real or not real. Famous examples of this kind of storytelling are the 2010 psycho thriller 'Black Swan' with Natalie Portman, or the YA novel 'We were liars' by E. Lockhart. If you like stories that leave you guessing, check those out ;)

So, why is Taylor an unreliable narrator? For those fans that have paid attention to her lyrics, it has long been evident that her songwriting and public narrative don't match up. The most obvious theme being her 17-year run of writing songs about secret relationships and hiding, while she was parading men around in public to be photographed with. But, as we know, most people ignore it because it's just easier than digging deeper into lyrics. But now with Midnights, I'm starting to think she wants people to notice the duality and start to question her narrative. The sheer number of songs on that album that have strong double meaning or draw attention to lying or distorting the truth is astonishing: Right out the gate with track 1 we have Lavender Haze, a pretty loud song about bearding using the very well established queer reference of lavender. (And maybe she leaned out of the window a little too far with that title, because we all know the gaylor uproar was so loud when the title was revealed, that she had to backpedal and hetsplain it.) Immediately followed by Maroon, the song that has probably singlehandedly turned the most swifties into gaylors since Bettygate of 2020... Then on to Anti Hero, the ultimate duality song that also makes mention of lying and scheming, same as Mastermind. High Infidelity and You're Losing Me join the ranks of songs that look like they are about romantic relationships on the surface, but could also be interpreted to be about Taylor's relationship with fame and her fans. High Infidelity is a play on words of the term High Fidelity or HIFI, which is a 90s sound technology that refers to truthful reproduction of sound. High INfidelity is therefore a genius way of referring to both cheating and unfaithful reproduction of sound, almost like someone who makes music that isn't quite truthful... We also know from Aaron Dessner that this song was written following the 2021 Grammys and in the light of the whole William Bowery grammygate situation... I think there is point to be made about this song drawing attention to lying in a big way.

The timing of the release of You're losing me right around the time that her breakup with Joe made the news also feeds the narrative of a breakup song. But in this very 'breakup song' she says You say, "I don't understand," and I say, "I know you don't" and talks about sending signals that fall on deaf ears. Doesn't that sound an awful lot like 'I gave so many signs'? What does she know the addressee won't understand? Is it that when she finally reveals all her lies 90% of her fans will be shocked to their very core? On the exclusive CD version that has this track on it, it also immediately follows Dear Reader which on the track list looks like this:

Dear Reader You're Losing me (Does that look like a message? I think it does...)

By the time we make it to Dear Reader, she's basically told us 'I'm a liar who hides behind fake lavender relationships who charms everyone like a sleezy congressman, I'm the narcissistic Anti Hero you can't trust who schemes like a criminal and plans out everything like the puppet master I am, just so you like me and therefore you shouldn't look up to me, but I know you still will.' If that doesn't scream 'I want you to question everything I say or do' I don't know what does. Which brings us to performance art.

What is performance art?

Performance art is any kind of visual art that involves a dramatic performance aspect. To explain how this relates to Taylor and who she may have taken inspiration from, I refer to the brilliant Kristina Parro on TikTok:

Ok, groundwork is laid, but this is getting too long. Part 2 will be relating this to upcoming music releases and media coverage but that will have to wait til tomorrow.

As always, thanks for humouring me guys!

#taylor swift #gaylor #eras tour #midnights album #one year of midnights #performance art #unreliable narrator

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rustbeltjessie · 7 months ago

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Chicago Noise (Love Letter to Steve Albini) by Jarret Keene

How many boys want to be whipped by Steve Albini’s guitar? -Sonic Youth bassist/singer Kim Gordon

Woke up this morning, as usual, hungry for white-boy noise and black coffee. Popped in – what else? – Big Black’s Songs About *!?king and blasted it at full volume on the home stereo so I could feel every

drum-machine wallop in my molars, every lacerating riff against my face, those places where noise really hits me when its good and loud. Steve, there’s something about your band Big Black

in the morning that helps me to more effectively hate birds outside my window as they chirp ridiculous tunes about nothing to no one, something in the serrated edges of the song “Pavement Saw” and

the slaughterhouse fury of “Colombian Necktie” that transports me to the Loop, jostling around inside a metal tube across an ice-cold, urban-Midwest landscape of old, bombed-out meatpacking plants.

Like it’s a clear day in March and I’m taking it all in – the canyons of LaSalle, the cliffs of Michigan Avenue, the public artworks – and there’s this satanic chainsaw behind my ears, eager to sink

its teeth into my skull, turning my lights out and then everyone else’s. This noise is dirty and yet so pure that I can’t help feeling even more comfortable in my alienation, even happier in hostile

territory. I imagine myself lying down like a lamb at the paws of a lion guarding the stairs of the Art Institute. I picture myself walking into a Wicker Park record shop (a real record shop that

actually sells, you know, vinyl) and asking the skinny, unfriendly employees there if they might sell me another Big Black LP. And when they scowl at me with an expression that says “Why don’t

you already own that record, poser?” all I can say to my fellow rock snobs is leave me alone, because I’m armed and dangerous, and about to vaporize Cloud Gate in Millenium Park, to rip

the girders from Calder’s red-orange flamingo-looking thing perched in front of the Federal Center with my incisors before flame-broiling it oh-so-slowly with an acetylene torch until the steel is tender enough

to eat with a plastic spork, to challenge the next thrash band to play the Double Door to a demolition derby-style mosh pit involving broken beer bottles and our bare chests and bags of salt.

And if anyone asks about the point of this tsunami of sucking nihilism, this whole tortured carnival ride, let me say that it’s my chance to ignore the terrifying silence at the end of this caffeinated daydream.

Anyhow, Steve, just thought I’d write you a quick letter letting you know how much your anti-corporate band gets me dreaming of Chicago and prepares me for another gray and greasy day

of corporate enslavement, chained to my cubicle, hoping for a moment to shut down my computer and loosen my tie, straining to hear a measure, the merest note, of the sweet music of birds.

#poetry #jarret keene #steve albini #i’m fucking sad man #first gary now steve?

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felassan · 1 year ago

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Let's talk about these new images & the new/clearer looks at images from the Dragon Age Vinyl. (first, read this post hhhh). under a cut for length.

These resemble the map of the Fade in DA:O.

This one with the eluvian is labelled as the "Black City" side of the flip mat merch item. behind the eluvian is a flower-like pattern. and this is the first time I remember [? could be wrong] seeing the 'roots' of the 'tree statue' structures. from root, to trunk, to branches. [interestingly with root and branches looking like veins, lyrium veins, Titan veins..]. an eluvian shattering in the context of the "Black City" - again the splattering, the shattering..

and I looked up and saw the seven gates of the Black City shatter, and darkness cloaked both realms.

were/are the seven "gates" eluvians? ^^ they are portals and a gate is type of portal.

On the left here is Grey Warden imagery - griffon, sword, Joining Chalice with darkspawn blood drop.

I can't make out the two middle images - is anyone skilled with image manipulation able to unskew them?

On the right here, the four circles pattern looks similar to the pattern on Solas' Hermit Tarot card. and in the middle is the sense once again of an eclipse - in the very center, a sun-like shape/representation of the sun. and behind that, two overlapping spheres/two shadowed spheres.

Codex entry: Old Elven Writing

This elven writing found in the Arbor Wilds is so old as to be incomprehensible. There are whispers from the Well of Sorrows. It's impossible to understand the entire text, but certain parts suddenly reveal a shadow of their original meaning. "In this place we prepare to hunt the pillars of the earth. Their workers scurry, witless, soulless. This death will be a mercy. We will make the earth blossom with their passing." For one moment there is a vivid image of two overlapping spheres; unknown flowers bloom inside their centers. Then it fades.

And here is our first clear look at the Black City version of the art. we can now make out details in it that we couldn't the other day. the 'feel' of the image is that the sunrays emanating from the dragon/just behind the dragon cause/caused the now-Black City to destabilize and crumble. the wings and foliage also have a color gradient. at the bottom, gnarled and blackened, where the rot set in and is spreading. it spreads upwards to marr the little amount of gold that there is left, killing the foliage in the process.

but the main new exciting detail here is the heads held in the wings. there are 6 of them and they have elven ears. on their helms are the 'Evanuris headpiece/symbols'. seen from different angles in some, but it's these symbols nonetheless. you can match them up, like so:

After matching up the heads to these symbols, only the central one, the biggest one, is left out. and as you can see, what does match that is the Black City dragon's horns (recall they or the dragon itself changes from the Golden City version of the art to this one) and the staff of the figure facing the dragon in the Golden City version of the art.

close up of that figure shows they have pointed elven ears.

here's an Elgar'nan asset from DA:O. compare the horns with the staff top, the Black City dragon horns and the symbol in the biggest semicircle.

I still speculate that the figure and therefore the second 'Black City' dragon is Elgar'nan (with the first dragon being Mythal). opposite Mythal, he's the leader of the gods, the Zeus. that semicircle and symbol is the biggest. There isn't another big one because Mythal was murdered, and of course there isn't a ninth because that's Fen'Harel. I wrote in my last post on this,

left, silvery dragon - Mythal? right dragon (which is gold-toned despite the blackening) - Elgar'nan, after he’s approached her [maybe as the figure on the rock promontory] and then murdered her and taken her place as the god, ruler, dragon who presides over all? moon and sun, moon dragon and sun dragon, beauty and destruction.. the shape of the 'right-hand’ dragon’s horns match the evanuris headpiece on the ring which is in the biggest hemisphere, and of the 7 gods those headpieces apply to (9 Evanuris, minus Mythal and Fen'Harel), the 'biggest’ naturally is the patriarch leader opposite Mythal, Elgar'nan.

husbands killing, betraying or doing acts of violence against their wives is unfortunately not a rare thing. and in the lore this has happened before. Andraste (with her Mythal-like crown..) was betrayed by Maferath. Conobar betrayed Flemeth, the human woman whom the spark of Mythal - betrayed herself by other Evanuris - crawled to. the spark of Mythal "clawed and crawled through the ages" to Flemeth when Flemeth cried out for help. there is a reason Flemeth is the vessel the spark of Mythal joined with, their stories are similar. Dalish lore and the memories of ancient elven lore we see in DA:I sometimes show that Mythal sometimes had to temper Elgar'nan's fury or defuse situations involving him. of course, just because Elgar'nan was the main culprit of Mythal's death didn't mean that he did it alone or acted alone. other Evanuris were involved. Solas says "and in their lust for power they killed her". in their lust for power, the City was blackened.

the question is, what do the Evanuris heads in the dragon's blackened wings represent? ofc it's another version (really different art style etc) of this event. the heads/symbols, the City blackening.. it's the same event being depicted. but the way their body-less heads hang there in the blackened wings, dark and connected to the corrupted tree.. it reminds me of the theories connecting the Evanuris to the Blight somehow. "What the Evanuris in their greed could unleash would end us all. Let this place be forgotten. Let no one wake its anger. The People must rise before their false gods destroy them all." The Balrog Theory. Andruil travelling into the darkness of the Void and returning, twisted and mad. stuff like that. that's what the heads in the wings remind me of. so other Evanuris ("they") were involved in Mythal's death, and they were up to something shady "in their lust for power" that was giving 'not great for the world' vibes.

also, stylistically the choice to show their heads like this also reminds me of the faces in the borders of the beautiful map that came out with the Tevinter Nights book. those borders not only also contain two different dragons facing off from each side of the map but a bunch of celestial body, sun/moon and eclipse imagery...

anyways, we also get a more detailed clearer look at the Golden City cover art and in this we can see -

this is the door/gate to the Golden City in this Art. and idk, it just reminds me of this dragon Mythal mosaic or this Mythal dragon statue.

also -

soo is Elgar'nan is one of the "Evil Gods" that has Thedas in their sights? that mural could be read as implying that there were two returning or at least lurking ominously. All 7 non-Mythal-non-Fen'Harel gods coming back or being at risk of coming back in one game could be too much both in terms of irl meta-resources for development (there are lots of other things going on in Thedas to cover as well) and too much as a threat, if I was a writer I personally might handwave most of them to the side like "oh yeah, 5 of them got corrupted/stuck/lost forever over the Ages since while they were trapped and only Elgar'nan and [Other One] remain to pose a threat. they're still looming and ominous though". yknow?

but who knows, this was just one guy's take. to be further updated on all things gaming news reviews and discussions, stay tuned right here on yongyea, I'll see you guys next time, yong out

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #solas #mj meta #violence cw

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caltropspress · 6 months ago

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DISPATCHES FROM 2ND ST. STUDIOS: Fatboi Sharif & DRIVEBY in session

I went to DRIVEBY’s apartment in Jersey City because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of documenting musical exxxprrrimentation, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I knew witnessing Fatboi Sharif in the studio would be morbidly rewarding—I felt it in my critik’s skull-and-crossbones (memento mori, pirate flag, poison pictogram). It was New Year’s Day in the year of our Lord Have Mercy 2024, and I had to pull myself away from a tree documentary that had, sadly, begun to disappoint. I had opened a stocking-stuffed box of Goobers and was reluctant when Sharif sent the invitational text. I had settled in for the night. But it was my idea to watch the man work his black magikal esoterika hammer-don’t-hurt-them-witches recording session, so I’d be a real punk to rebuff the offer. I got into the Toyota and headed down Route 3 toward Jersey City. I was on the 1&9 in no time—the truest highway to hell, if one ever existed. Ate de Jong could never scout such a location. AC/DC roadside appliance wasteland. Potholes pave the way, but in a De Nah Soul manner. I finished eating the Goobers in the car, by the palmful, and lost one to an erratic lane merge. I motherfucked and shitted at the thought of a chocolate stain on my upholstered driver’s seat, or worse, the seat of my pants. My dad delivered Blimpie’s for thirty-plus years in Jersey City, long before it became Brooklyn-of-the-West, so I know parking spots there are at a never-dream-of-’em premium. I parked several blocks away from DRIVEBY’s studio and cloven-hoofed it while huffing brick air. Texted from outside, but Sharif was already ushering me through a wrought-iron gate (suitable for guttings and impalements) and into the basement apartment: DRIVEBY’s 2nd St. Studios. That gate was like an entrance into a secret garden—overblown and overflowin’ with a riot of root rot, weeds, and (of course) crumbling-but-still-grumbling gargoyles, most with the medieval motif of mooning jutting out from the church buttresses. DRIVEBY’s had a William Shatner’s TekWorld comic next to his speaker. Dusty keyboards lined the floor. Sega Genesis cartridges, a Sharp boombox, and the requisite vinyl collection on bowing crates completed the scene. The space stored antiquated and dead media—ghost machines humming and haunting.

⤧

Sharif told me he’d be recording some tracks for his upcoming album with Blockhead, something for Bigg Jus, and several features. When I arrived, he was in the middle of recording one of the Blockhead tracks. The mic and the iso shield were directly inside the door of the apartment, and I sat on the couch to the left of that. Sharif would be spitting at me, beyond me, as he did his thing—an intimate setting, to say the very least. Beans of Antipop Consortium sat on this same cushion months earlier, I thought. They recorded “Sex With the Leopard Print Lady” here. While I pondered the legacy of stylist berzerkers of past and present, Key & Peele played on the television in front of me. I wanted to make myself scarce, invisible as possible, Brundlefly-on-the-wall, non-participatory, so I watched the “Laron Can’t Laugh” sketch on mute and registered how Laron’s noiseless convulsions and eventual shriek expertly pantomimed Sharif’s vocals. These layers of silence allowed me to hear some of what Sharif was spewing forth and commit it to memory. He spoke of avenging the death of Candyman. The words loom like Tony Todd—tall as a ponderosa pine in a Cabrini-Green courtyard. Caroline crossed eyelids…90 degree pressure… Closing in on 400 degreez, but we’re talking below zero. The winter of our disconnected selves. Sharif tells DRIVEBY he wants his voice to sound “fucked up.” He’s snorting, super sinusy. He wants to cultivate a specific sound—it coats the inner concavities of his skull. He just needs to externalize it into a self-portrait in a convex DAW interface. “The soul establishes itself,” John Ashbery writes. Sharif is shoeless, I should add. He’s black socked as he cuts the song’s first of three adlib tracks. The first is completely muddled, barely audible—a grumbly grumble grumb. The second is a helium-huffed high pitch mania. The third, a yell—“the banshee,” as DRIVEBY calls it. Sharif slackens the headphone wires and walks across the room. He does “the banshee” from as great a distance as possible. You’ve no doubt heard the banshee adlib track before (B.A.T. for short, as in, the hematophagic vampire bat). If you’ve heard a Fatboi Sharif recording, you’ve likely heard a hotly desperate and deranged voice coming from the depths of a hellmouth—sinners swallowed and still writhing, quasi-alive, anticipating rigor mortis. DRIVEBY captures the natural reverb. Sharif asks him to put distortion and echo on the last word of the verse.

⤧

Fatboi Sharif was reading lyrics off his phone, but by then he was Loosifa loose—engaging me, inviting me to dialogue, reveling in the job. His feet are light and nimble, like McCarthy’s Judge. He says that he will never die. And, you bet, he dances in light and in shadow. He’s a craftsman and possesses an engineer’s ear, an ant-infested and severed one he probably plucked from a manicured lawn in Scotch Plains, NJ, Jeffrey Beaumont style. For the second verse of the song, he makes an alteration and decides to end the verse earlier than he had written it, stopping at the phrase “role model” because he likes the “swing of it.” Okay, Nuke Hellington. I see you, Benny Badman. A natural performer, the recording session reflects both technical know-how and impassioned delivery. He doesn’t quite lose himself as he does on the stage (or the audience floor where he so often ends up), but he’s unequivocally locked in, as he kids say. Locked in a room with padded walls, more apropos. On the next, he requires a seemingly endless run of retakes. I begin to wonder if my presence is a burden, a distraction. But the session keeps its devil-may-care air intact. Still, Sharif has a sonic vision he yearns to achieve. He won’t settle for less. He eventually gets the take he desires and tells DRIVEBY he’s gonna do three adlibs. These two men work in harmony to develop their songs of disharmony. They’ve been boys, and so that keeps the chemistry alchemical for the duration. Open and honest, DRIVEBY tells Sharif that three tracks of adlibs is “too many.” FUCK THAT! Sharif shouts at him. Sharif wants the adlibs to sound beneath everything—six-feet deep, or “buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways” (unexpressed emotions, that is), as Freud or a Freud-fraud once wrote. Sharif wants echoes. He wants to sound like he’s a signal coming in and out of the radio as you drive through the night. These are the requests he makes, delicately selected from his mental doom board as DRIVEBY adjusts the mix, adds effects. “Do you do a lot of vocal mixing on the spot?” I ask. Sharif shakes his head, points to DRIVEBY slumped over his computer monitor, clicking and dragging, random access memory maybe lagging: “He’s on his Bob Power shit.” Listening to the playback, Sharif tells me he wants to be like Joker in the children’s hospital scene. What kinda clown carries a fuckin’ gun?! I’m waiting for the next Sharif release, crossing my fingers into an arthritic mass of flesh and bone in hopes of his cover of “If You’re Happy and You Know It” appearing on the tracklist.

⤧

DRIVEBY puts Joker on the TV. It’s the bus scene; he can’t stop laughing. He hands a fellow passenger his card: Forgive my Laughter: I have a Condition. Sharif still sleeps to beats. He’s told this story numerous times to various media outlets, and so it’s beginning to take on the tone of lore. But it’s not. Even wilder, he’s not listening on headphones as he sleeps; he blasts the beats on speakers. Sharif prefers to record late, well into the wee hours of morning. DRIVEBY’s couch often becomes Sharif’s bed. “He’ll have the same beat on for five hours,” DRIVEBY explains. He’ll be in his bedroom, unable to sleep. Sharif grins and tells me, “That’s when I’m in the mindfuck.” Sharif reapproaches the mic. Another Blockhead track. “He told me he made this one especially for me,” Sharif says. The beat sounds like a Gregorian chant in a cavern. Beware of the Shroom Monster. Sharif has managed to amass an intimidating number of releases over the past several years while not indulging us to excess. He’s conservative with his run-times. Clocks ain’t shit to him. Many of his projects are EP-length, but categorizing them in any terms would seem to discredit his ingenuity. As the session unofficially ends and we settle into more casual conversation, Sharif implores DRIVEBY to play selections from their unreleased album, currently on ice like a corpse. I listen and hear of an exorcism of Antoinette, of Elvira and death resurrections, of Basquiat painting in Transylvania, crossroads, and plosive sonic samples from The Pagemaster—a film I have absolutely no recollection of but DRIVEBY speaks almost as highly of as his Fantastic Damage instrumental CD-R. OneShotOnce shows up, presumably for a session, but not before he and Sharif pillage DRIVEBY’s fridge. They feast on cold chicken while I gather myself to leave.

Images: Astronomical table detail from the Almanach Purpetuum of Abraham Zacuto (c. 1500)

#underground hip hop #backwoodz studioz #zines #fatboi sharif #driveby #recording

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