#@aha-network

[abirdie]

Gael García Bernal in Wasp Network (2019, dir. Olivier Assayas)

(Among other people, these gifs feature the backs of the heads of Anel Perdomo, Penélope Cruz and Edgar Ramírez)

Gifs are all 540px wide so you can click to see larger.

[other gael filmography gifsets]

[prismbearer]

I like how my favorite rpg romance experiences I've had are ones where it doesn't work out mid-game or post-game tbh.

[soapdispensersalesman]

[marko-level]

Online Counter Psyops

(chill step, future bass, hip hop)

Coming soon 2023

[wabblebees]

.

[lustspren]

P.S.T EP. 12 | Love Language ft Ningning.

length: 12k words✦

Ningning & Male Reader

Special Guest: ITZY

genres: oral sex, dirty talk, ass eating, facetime sex, squirt, footjob, lesbian, butt play, sneaky blowjob/handjob, bit fluffy

✦✧✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Once again, the Miami morning sun filtered through the balcony window and filled your room with light. The shine was annoying on your eyes, but it was the perfect natural wake-up call for you to open them and look at the beautiful angel lying next to you.

Yoo Jimin was pure natural and ethereal beauty. You had read multiple times on different social networks that she looked like she was made by computer, and you had never understood those comments as much as you did at that moment when you saw her peacefully sleeping. You moved as subtly as you could to lean on one elbow and brush a strand of hair away from her temple. You brought two of your knuckles close to her cheek and rubbed it slowly; she shifted slightly, and grabbed you by your wrist so you could cradle that side of her face with your hand. You couldn't help but smile. She clung to your hand as if it were a teddy bear.

Of course the cute moment couldn't last too long. The doorbell of the suite and multiple messages on your phone snapped you out of your trance. You frowned, since it was fucking 7 in the morning. While you were reading the messages the doorbell rang a couple more times.

When you finished reading the messages you lowered the phone and found that Jimin was already beginning to open her eyes. She had the same annoyed expression as you as she rubbed her eyes.

"Well, I have to assume the deal between you two is over," you told her with a sigh.

You got out of bed, turned off the air conditioning, and reluctantly put on some boxers. You left the bedroom and walked through the corridors of the suite. The doorbell continued ringing, and you quickened your pace so that it would shut up once and for all. When you reached the door and opened it, all the girls except Noze began to enter the suite like raiders. Minjeong and Aeri passed you by without even saying hello, but when Ning did she hugged you around the waist and kissed your cheek to join the other two.

"Mother of God! This place is huge!" you heard Aeri say from behind you.

"I want to stay in a place like this too!" Minjeong protested as well. Ningning didn't say anything.

"Weren't there more subtle ways to wake me up?" you asked, looking Noze in the eyes. She didn't seem to care at all, "How annoying, damn."

"Aha whatever," she waved her hand and walked past you. You closed the door with a huff, "Today's breakfast and meeting will be here."

Just then Jimin also came out, wearing nothing but panties. She was still sleepy and her hair was a mess. She stood looking towards the balcony with a frown. Minjeong was looking at figurines on a shelf, Aeri was next to the coffee table, and Ningning was sitting on the couch. You could see in her face that she wanted to lie down and sleep too.

"Oh, can we all have breakfast naked then?" Aeri teased with a giggle, looking at Jimin.

"Go get dressed before room service arrives," Noze ordered, with a sternness that let you know she was in no mood for jokes.

You and Jimin went back into the bedroom and while you were in there you agreed to take longer on purpose. How did you do it? She gave you a quick blowjob, made you cum inside her mouth, and right after that was when you really started getting dressed. You came out and all of them were already settled at the table on the balcony. You took the free seats. Jimin to your left, Noze to the right.

That particular morning it felt like you were in hell itself. You didn't know how many degrees it was, but the sun stung your skin. You thanked god it wasn't right above your head, otherwise you would have been roasted alive. Luckily, the sea breeze counteracted the heat a little and kept you cool.

Noze began to detail all the activities scheduled for that day. You were all paying as much attention as you could, but it was evident on your faces that none of you had rested well enough to be fully operational at that time of the morning. As soon as she finished, seconds later room service arrived.

"Well? How were those nights?" Minjeong asked you, sitting next to Jimin, "I think I deserve to know the details, right?"

The hotel workers placed plate after plate on the table, which soon began to fill with food of all kinds. That made you remember the breakfast Jimin had made you eat the day before, and you had Vietnam flashbacks. Your gaze was lost looking at some boiled eggs with vegetables.

"We just bro'ed out, ate pizza and played video games," Jimin replied with a mischievous smile, "Nothing exciting, Minjeong-ah."

"Hey, hurry up and eat. It's getting late," Noze interrupted you.

"Mother of God, late for what," you said, wrinkling your forehead, "Not even the roosters have woken up at this point."

Noze glared at you, but the rest of the girls laughed at your joke. You, however, didn't find it so funny, you still felt exhausted from the day before and what you were saying was a real complaint. All of you finished your breakfast in a matter of about ten minutes. This time you didn't eat much; it was enough for you with some egg and cheese toast, and some cereal bars.

"Girls, go to the lobby with the rest of the staff so they can take you to the venue. They are already waiting for you," Noze told the girls.

All the girls obediently wiped their mouths with napkins and stood up. Jimin said goodbye to you with a couple of pats on the cheek. Ning gave you a kiss on the cheek again, along with a light caress on your chin. You could feel yourself almost melting at her soft touch, but you hid it as best you could.

"Did you have fun with Jiminie?" Noze asked you once all the girls left.

"Sex with her is fucking amazing, I'm not going to lie. But the best thing of all was feeling like she was just another good friend... I mean, I got to know her a lot better, and that was very valuable to me."

"Yeah," she nodded, looking out toward the open sea, "it probably doesn't show much on the outside but she's a very down-to-earth girl."

"You and her get along well, don't you?"

"She's the leader of the group I manage, silly, I have to get along with her anyway. But you're not wrong, she and I have formed a special bond over time."

“Um…” Noze knew what you were thinking, she laughed and tapped you on the forehead with her middle finger.

"I don't like her, idiot. And she doesn't like me either. In fact, she's told me more than once that she's not interested in girls, not in a romantic way at least."

"I imagine so. Dating restrictions only lead to them fucking each other."

"Mhum. But that can get out of control sometimes, that's why I have to keep them in line."

"And I'm the tool to do it huh?"

"Mmm, kind of, but you're not just a tool anymore. Those girls really like you, so it's up to you not to let them down."

"I have no plans to do so either."

"Cool,” she turned her gaze to you again, "Now, you have work to do."

"Which paparazzi needs to have their teeth broken?"

"All of them, but that's not what I want you to do. I need you to collect all the girls' luggage and leave them ready for the hotel check out."

"Oh, piece of cake."

"However, I have bad news for you," she said as you made a move to get up from the chair. You sat down again.

"What's the matter?"

"This morning my days of the month started. You don't need to be very smart to know what I mean. And I know the girls well enough to know that theirs is coming too."

"Oh, okay, but what's up with that?"

"Nothing. I just apologize in advance for any behavior you may have to bear over the next few days. Not just theirs."

"Nah, no need. I think I'm pretty tolerant."

"Alright," she nodded and stood up. You did too, "Oh, one more thing. After tonight's concert we're taking a bus to Atlanta. I booked a nice spacious one just for the six of us."

"Damn, that sounds great," you and her left the balcony and walked into the suite.

"Yup, we'll have a three-day break between tonight's concert and the next one. So if you want some time to yourself and grab some souvenirs, that’s your chance."

"Oh, great. Yuna will start crying if I don't bring her something," you let out a sigh, "Well, I have work to do, if you'll excuse me."

"Go ahead, and good luck. Who knows what you might encounter in those rooms," Noze turned around with a laugh and left the suite.

Of course you started with your and Jimin's luggage. There weren't many clothes scattered around the room, you had been as organized as possible and everything was perfectly in order. You just had to make the bed, leave everything as you found it when you first entered and get to work with the other rooms. You already had an order that you would follow, and since you knew Minjeong and what she was capable of, you decided to leave her room as the last one just so you could be mentally prepared for what you would find there.

You started in Aeri's room. It was frankly a disaster. There were clothes of all kinds everywhere: blouses, sweaters, pants and panties. The main place of concentration was around the bed. You picked up each piece of clothing and folded it as best you could to put it in the suitcases that weren't even completely unpacked. It was evident that with each passing day she only took out what she needed and survived that way. It didn't take you too long to gather her things and leave everything neatly packed.

Ning's room followed. Just as you expected, that room looked as if no one had used it in weeks. Everything was perfectly organized and clean. Ning's suitcases were neatly packed and organized at the foot of the bed. You noticed there was a small note on top of one of them. You went to pick it up and read it.

'Thank you for taking such good care of me, darling.

Love, Ning.'

You smiled from ear to ear, folding the note to put it in the back pocket of your pants. You made a mental note to spend more time with her over the next few days so you could thank her for making your job so easy. She was certainly a being of light who deserved all the love in the world.

The joy didn't last too long. The next room was Minjeong's, and you couldn't put it off much longer.

You were mentally prepared—or so you thought—, but as soon as you opened the door, what your eyes saw left you perplexed. There was a very stark dichotomy in the room, almost as if it had been cut in two and each half had been used by a different person. The suitcases were well organized and her bed was half made, which was appreciated. But the other side was an exaggerated conglomeration of sex toys of all kinds: dildos of all colors and sizes, vibrators, handcuffs—you had no idea she had any—, and even a pair of anal plugs that you didn't expect she had.

You stared at the sexual objects for a few long seconds without really knowing how to act or what to do. Hundreds of dirty thoughts ran through your head. One of them was Minjeong with her wrists handcuffed behind her back being fucked in her ass. Another was her sucking you off while she had one of those butt plugs buried in her ass.

You quickly came back to reality and set about gathering all the things the best way you could. Looking back you noticed an empty bag, you immediately assumed it was the bag she had dedicated entirely to her toys. You took it, put it on the bed and started putting things there. While you were doing it, you were surprised that one of the plugs was still warm and with a light layer of lubricant on top.

"This girl..." you murmured in disbelief, holding the plug by the edge so as not to stain yourself.

However, this was not the only thing. One of the dildos was also warm and wet with what you knew were Minjeong's fluids. You cursed her in your head. She had done it entirely on purpose knowing that you were going to collect the luggage.

As you put the dildo away, just like there was a camera in the room or something, you received a message from Minjeong.

You didn't even bother to answer, you just grabbed both toys to clean them in the bathroom and put them away with the rest of the things. With all the things ready, you prepared to make your way to the lobby, still with Minjeong's dirty thoughts running through your head non-stop. You had to make a little mental effort to get that out of your head. You thought about Noze looking at you with a look like she wanted to kill you, but that only made it worse. So you imagined your high school math teacher in a bikini. That was it.

When you arrived at the lobby you had to ask a couple of staff members for help to fetch a few suitcases that you left behind since you didn't have enough arms to carry them all, but soon everything was ready for check out.

With everything ready to go you had the girls' luggage begin to be loaded onto the big bus that Noze had booked. It looked like one of those buses that soccer teams used to go from one city to another, spacious, nice and modern.

You still had some free time to go to the venue, and remembering that the days of girls' month were approaching, you decided to run to the nearest store to buy them some things. You put your deepest feminine instinct into practice to figure out what to buy; in the end you decided on chocolates of all kinds, snacks, gummies, small soft stuffed animals and last but not least, pain pills—you had to ask the woman at the pharmacy which ones were suitable for menstrual cramps.

When you bought everything and went to the venue with the bags in your hands, you found that everything was absolute chaos. You rushed into the middle of the commotion to help with whatever you were useful for, and in the blink of an eye, the next thing you knew, there was a crowd outside eager to see their favorite girl group. The girls were ready to go on stage.

From that backstage area you could perfectly see the audience from the darkness, where the spotlights did not shine. You dedicated yourself to seeing as many people as you could, all of them with an emotion that oozed out of their pores. At that moment you thought about how truly blessed you were to be able to enjoy each concert from that position, and above all, because of the good relationship you had with each of them.

The days went by and you watched each concert until the end, but it never ceased to amaze you how Noze had everything running like a perfectly adjusted clock. The logistics were impeccable in every sense of the word. The costume changes were smooth; every emerging need of the girls was met almost immediately; the lighting never failed, and the sound was incredibly well mixed.

The concert came to an end, and soon everything began to be dismantled. You, Noze and the girls met backstage.

"Damn fucking mother Nature," you heard Aeri say to your left, with English and tone worthy of Mean Girls.

“I'm too bloated, oh my god,” Ning complained, pointing a portable fan at herself, “Please tell me I still looked pretty,” she asked you.

"You always look pretty baby, now go drink some water, please."

"I'm going to fucking explode," Minjeong growled, going to sit in a chair. Jimin sat next to her.

"Hey, at least it's not the worst that could have happened," you said.

"And what do you think is the worst that could have happened, genius?" Noze said, passing by you.

"I don't know, a space kitty invader could have come and devastated the venue. Come on, cheer up. Soon you'll be able to sleep comfortably."

Your words were intended to perhaps lift their spirits a little, and it seemed to work at least a little. Everyone's faces lit up and they looked at you with little smirks.

"He's right," Noze said, "All we have to do is get on that bus and sleep until we get to Atlanta."

"That sounds like a dream to me," Jimin sighed, "let's hurry up and get out of here."

For the next few minutes you dedicated yourself to being as helpful as possible so that the girls didn't have to do too much before getting on the bus. Once inside, everyone took advantage of the tinted windows to start changing into baggy and comfortable clothes. You did it too. You put on an adidas sports outfit; black tracksuit jacket and sweatpants along with your sliders.

"Girls! I have some gifts for you," you announced, taking the bags that until now no one had wondered what they were.

"A magic pill that will automatically eliminate the menstrual process from our body?" Jimin asked.

"I'm still working on it, I ask for patience."

You went through the seats and began to distribute everything you had bought. All of the girls had wide smiles forming on their faces. You distributed everything evenly, leaving some chocolates and snacks for yourself.

"Oh my god thank youuu!" Aeri squealed with excitement, grabbing her unicorn stuffed animal and hugging it. Jimin had a whale, Minjeong a Siberian husky, Ning a tiger, and Noze had a clown fish.

"This is so cute I might throw up," Minjeong joked with an adorable smile.

"Just wait for you to sit here. I'm going to kiss you like you've never been kissed before," Ning said from one of the wide sofa-like seats.

"Noze didn't pay you for this right?" Jimin laughed, opening a twix chocolate with her whale hugged to her body.

"As incredible as it may seem, no, I didn't," Noze replied, also with a little smile of disbelief.

The bus finally started, and everyone started eating many of the things you gave them. You had gone to sit with Ning, and just as she had promised, as soon as you sat next to her she wrapped her arms around your neck and kissed you multiple times on the lips and all over your face.

"You're so sweet," kiss, "and adorable," kiss, "and loving," kiss, "and wonderful."

She cupped both hands on either side of your face and looked at you with bright eyes. You were going to kiss her again until Aeri opened her mouth.

"Hey, I'm sorry to ruin your romantic moment," she apologized, "but can you come and massage my back and feet? Pleaaaase?"

"Fuck, I can't say no to that. Can I too?" Ning asked.

"Me too?" Jimin asked. Minjeong repeated the question. Surprisingly Noze too.

You had no choice but to agree to their requests. You went to Aeri's seat and started warming up your fingers before you started. Your specialty was doing massages, and this time you would do the routine you always did to loosen the muscles. Aeri melted into your hands, letting out long sighs of relief and taking deep breaths that you took as good signs; she even pulled up her baggy sweater so you had better access to her back muscles, which was really helpful. When you finished with her back, you knelt in front of her to repeat the process with her feet, which you noticed were incredibly tense and swollen.

As soon as you finished your work with Aeri you signaled Ning and Noze to have one of them come over since Minjeong and Jimin had fallen asleep before their turn. It was Ning who reached you first. You tried to work as quickly as you could, while still treating the two girls in the best way possible so that they could have a pleasant rest.

When the massages were done, you, Noze and Ning went to the sofa at the back of the bus where she was sitting. The space was very cozy, and it was an area of the bus—which in itself already seemed like a small apartment— where the air conditioning was colder and more pleasant. As soon as you placed your butt back on the padded surface you sighed and finally settled down to look at the layout of your surroundings. To your right was a corner sofa with a dining table. To your left, a small desk with an artificial campfire. In front you had a couple more seats, one on each side of a small table with a lamp and a television attached to the wall.

"Have you ever seen No Strings Attached?" you asked the girls.

They were huddled against you, Ning on your right and Noze on your left. Both hugged in your arms. They both shook their heads.

"Well, it will be your first time then."

You grabbed the TV remote and went to Netflix to find the movie. The three of you started watching the movie, but halfway through, Ning fell asleep. You noticed it from her adorable, subtle snores that filled your heart with tenderness. That left you alone with Noze. Once again.

"She snores like her stuffed animal would, she's so damn adorable," she said in a low, husky voice, followed by a giggle.

"Do you think she liked it?"

You had a hand placed on her thigh. You hadn't done it on purpose, just your hand ended up there, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Are you kidding? I haven't seen girls this excited and happy about something in a long time," she lifted her head from your shoulder to look at you, "It was a very nice gesture on your part, really, thank you."

You also turned your head to look at her. You met a pair of sleepy and somewhat shiny gorgeous eyes, but inevitably your gaze drifted to her full, red lips. She looked inexplicably beautiful like that, with her hair somewhat messy and dressed in that sweater that was twice her size. You were so, so tempted to make a move, but you held back.

"There's nothing to thank me for, it's my way of showing that I really love them."

"Does that include me?"

"Why, are you jealous?"

"No, it's just that you're looking to sleep in a hotel lobby when we get to Atlanta."

You couldn't help but smile. She really was jealous.

"Of course that includes you... Noze? I'm starting to not like calling you that, darling."

"Jihye," she finally said with an adorable smile, "Noh Jihye."

"Oh, so that's where the No in the name comes from."

"Aha, you're very smart, congratulations," she lay back on your shoulder with a giggle, "shut up and let's finish watching the movie, I'm exhausted."

The reality was that the movie hadn't even ended when she fell asleep, so you finished watching it alone. When the credits popped out, you turned off the TV and made yourself comfortable between the two of them, resting your head on Ning's and fell asleep just like that.

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

You and Aeri woke up when you were passing through Cordele, but the rest of the girls didn't wake up until you were passing through Macon. Another hour passed when you finally arrived in Atlanta, straight towards your destination: the Ritz-Carlton hotel, a small but wide building in the middle of the city.

"Alright girls, you have a few days off to relax. Enjoy it," Noze announced as you arrived at the hotel lobby, which was honestly the most impressive to you yet.

"You still owe me a massage, don't forget," Jimin told you, she was walking in front of you.

"Aha, sure thing," you nodded, looking at the enormous heptagon of warm lights above your heads. The spacious reception in front of you.

"Hey, I'd like to have a few drinks with you one of these nights, are you up?" Noze told you, standing to your left.

"You don't even have to ask me. You know the answer."

She smiled and walked towards the reception as she watched you.

"Cool," she winked at you and prepared to say a few words to the receptionist, "Oh, and for the record!" She turned around to see you all, "You have free rein to do whatever you want, but if you are going to leave the hotel make sure you communicate it through the appropriate channels. Me, basically."

You stood waiting for a few minutes while Noze got you all the cards. As you did so, you all took the wide stairs that led to the first floor. That's where the elevators and the real hotel started, and also where you all parted ways to go to your rooms.

Your room was spacious and with good views of the rest of the city. The first thing you saw when you entered was the queen size bed with white sheets and pillows, and another long pillow but gray with white prints in the middle of them. In front of the bed there was a chest of drawers with dark varnished wood on the top and champagne-colored melamine on the drawers; two large ones on each side and four small ones in the middle. On the wall behind the dresser was the television, and to the left of it was also a small dark desk with a dark brown plastic chair. Finally, at the back of the room, right in front of the window, there was a large dark silver alcantara sofa with a small circular high table in front of it.

The first thing you did when you entered was take off your shoes and start unpacking all the things you knew you would use during those three days. After putting everything in the dresser and leaving your laptop and phone on top, you went directly to the bathroom to take a necessarily long shower. You came out again with the towel around your waist and went to check on your phone, finding that you had a message to read.

It was Lia. And when you read her name, a huge feeling of guilt attacked you for not having been able to pay attention to them. You immediately responded to her.

After having responded to Lia you decided to also write to the rest of the girls—all while you were in a towel in front of the widely open curtains where anyone from the building across the street could see you.

Of course, the first was Chaery.

Once you sent all the corresponding messages, you got dressed, turned on the air conditioning and went to close the curtains in the room. Then you grabbed your laptop from the top of the dresser and made yourself comfortable on the couch. You started watching Haikyuu, an anime that you wanted to start for a while but hadn't had time to. A couple of hours passed when you remembered that Rina still wanted that massage, so you picked up your phone and texted her.

When you received confirmation from her you closed your laptop, put your phone in the pocket of your sweatpants and went straight to Jimin's room. The door was open, and when you put your hand on the knob and opened it you found Jimin already lying face down on her hands. She was completely topless, but she was still wearing short sports shorts. You also noticed that her room was exactly the same as yours, only she had a view of the city that had the Oconee National Forest in the background.

"Straight to the point huh?" You teased with a chuckle, closing the door behind you.

"Kinda," she sighed, "my back is killing me."

"I think I have a solution for that."

You took your phone out of your pocket and climbed onto the bed with her to put it aside. Then you straddled her butt and did the same finger warm-up you always did.

"Fuck, you're heavy you know?" she complained.

"Do you want the massage or not, crybaby?" you rubbed your hands together quickly to warm them up and then placed them on her bare shoulder blades.

She was going to answer you, but she could only let out a sigh of relief as you started your work. Just like the rest of the girls, Rina had very tense muscles. You immediately felt empathy for her. Concert after concert doing the same show without proper breaks between them was certainly something that took its toll in the long run, and they had the bad luck that it just happened to coincide with their days of the month.

"What are you planning to do these days?" she asked you softly. She had her eyes closed.

"I have to catch up with Itzy's girls, I feel like an idiot," you sighed, massaging her lower back, "I'm also going out with Jihye for drinks, but I don't know when."

"Jihye?" She giggled, "So she told you her real name huh? You're one step closer to the wedding at this point."

"You're not funny you know?"

"I'm the funniest person you know."

"I don't know that many people, Rina," you moved back to her shoulders.

"That's already an achievement then. You like her right?"

You took more time to answer that question than you'd like.

"No," no matter how confident you sounded, you couldn't help but think you were lying to yourself.

"But you like Ning right?"

"Are you a detective now or what?"

"It's a basic question, are you afraid to answer it?"

"No, but I don't know what this interrogation is about."

"I'm just curious. Come on, tell me."

"I'm one damn step away from being crazy about her. And it's a fine line."

"Aw, that's adorable."

"It's not, I feel like an idiot every time she does something sweet for me or every time she talks to me like… god."

"Buddy, you're crazy about her."

"Please shut up," you said heavily. Rina could only laugh. But you weren't as cool about it as she might think. Chaery was still in your head, and with her were the words you said to her before the tour. At that moment you hated being a man.

"I mean, I don't blame you. She's a princess in every way possible."

"It is, but please let's stop talking about my love life. What do you have planned?" you finally moved to her feet.

"Oh, we have a girls' night planned today. Here, actually."

"Aren't you planning to go sightseeing?"

"I saw that there is a very nice botanical garden, it would be a nice place to go."

"There's also a zoo tho, and an aquarium."

"Right! That would be cool."

"I can go with you if you want, but let me see how the next few days go."

"That sounds like a date to me."

"We can go with one of the girls then, comedian girl."

"I wasn't complaining," she let out a small whimper when you pressed close to her thumb, but it was natural, "Hey, you said you felt like an idiot about Itzy's girls, why?"

"Because I've been neglecting them these days, and it feels bad because I know how much they appreciate me."

"Dude, you've done a wonderful job taking care of us. Besides, I know Yeji unnie well, she knows very well how demanding a tour is. She won't be upset with you."

"I hope so. I would feel terrible if she was," you now moved to the other foot. Another whine from Jimin.

"Well, if she gives you a hard time about that I can take care of her if you want," she said with a joking tone. You chuckled.

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it. By the way, give me details about the girls' night, I'm curious about it."

"Oh, nothing special. We'll just order junk food, watch a few movies, and talk about boys."

"Boys?" you laughed, “What boys, Yoo Jimin, you should lie better.”

"During these days of the month I become a little more girly, you know. And I think it would be rude to say that we are going to be talking about you."

"Wow, that's certainly reassuring."

"It won't be anything bad, don't worry. You've done nothing but be a wonderful guy for us."

"Just let me know if you need anything, okay?" With that said you released her foot to finish the massage.

"Yeah, I will," she answered you with a little smile, finally opening her eyes to see you, "Thank you for the massage, I feel much better."

"I'm glad to hear that, don't thank me. I'll see you later, Rina," you leaned forward, giving her a peck on the forehead and another on the cheek before standing up.

As soon as you left her room you checked your phone, finding that all the girls had already responded to you. It made you happy to see all their personalities captured in each word. You began to walk the corridor slowly while reading the messages from Chaery, who you started chatting with.

When you finished talking to Chaery you were already inside the elevator going to the floor of your room. Then you read the other messages, starting with Lia.

You weren't surprised by the fact that Ryujin responded with a photo as well. She was lying on her side, legs drawn up as she held a wet dildo. A butt plug buried in her ass too. Just then the elevator door opened as it stopped a couple of floors before yours, and an elderly couple entered. You quickly had to lock the screen.

"Good afternoon," you greeted politely, playing dumb, with a smile and a small bow.

"Good afternoon dear," smiled the good-natured granny. Grandpa only gave you a smirk and raised his eyebrows.

You had to wait until you were alone on your corresponding floor before re-entering the chat.

Next was Yuna, who as expected had more energy than all of you and Itzy's girls combined.

When you were going to read Yeji's messages, you were already in front of your room. You opened the door, walked in and lay face up on your bed to answer her.

Finishing talking to all of them and having arranged to have a video call did nothing but fill your heart with joy and relief. You had finally taken a burden off your shoulders, but they were not that burden, but rather the emotional weight you had for not having been as attentive to them as you promised before you left.

Just as you were going to get out of bed to go watch a couple more episodes of Haikyuu before going to eat, you received more messages, but they were from Noze.

Had she really used a heart in a message to you? That was certainly new.

This time you did put the phone down and got out of bed to go change your outfit, which was really fucking difficult considering you had no idea what kind of occasion this was. But in the end, the solution was always to do something in the middle. Not looking like a bum but not like James Bond about to go on a mission either. Your choice this time was a black Columbia sweatshirt, and a black jacket with a beige hood on top; also some gray wide-leg jeans and your Air Force 1 07 LV8 in its champagne color variation.

Once prepared, you grabbed all your things and left your room, locked it and prepared to leave the hotel to look for a restaurant to eat nearby. You could have just asked for a car to drive yourself, but you wanted to walk the streets of a city you had never visited before. In your search you came across a place called Cuts Steakhouse, and the name alone convinced you.

You sat at one of the tables to order the food, and while you waited for it you looked for nearby bars. Looking through Google Maps you found one that was perfect for the occasion, it was quite nice and not too far from your current location, so after finishing your pork ribs with barbecue and your grilled salmon with ponzu, you went straight there.

Upon entering the large establishment you were relieved to see that there were not too many people there, which was normal considering that it was a weekday and that many people must be at home resting from work. Naturally the first thing you did was go sit at the bar, which formed a wide rectangle around a main island where the shelves, all the bottles and the televisions were.

One of the bartenders offered to serve you, and while you waited for Noze's message you just ordered a beer. The aforementioned message arrived when you were already a little more than halfway through the beer. You immediately gave her her address, and were impressed by the speed at which she arrived. You remembered what she had ordered the last time you had drinks together, so there was her Rusty Nail next to your half-finished beer.

"Hiii theeeere!" She greeted with a smile as she walked towards you. Once again, she impressed you with her beauty.

Black and white knitted sweater, short black skirt and high leather boots. She also sported pretty, freshly cut bangs, and simple makeup whose main attraction was scarlet lips. You were screwed. It was like she had read your mind when you had that little moment on the bus.

"Hello beautiful," you smiled as she sat down next to you, "You look amazing."

"Do you like it?" She asked with a small twinkle in her eye as she looked at her outfit and then she looked at you.

"Oh yeah, that sweater is beautiful. And damn, so are you, why lie."

"You look really cute too, why lie," she examined you up and down with a sly smile and then looked at the drink you had ordered, "Oh my god! I can't believe you remembered!"

"You never forget the initial shock of seeing a girl order Scotch whiskey," you replied as she took a swig of her drink. You also drank your beer.

"You say that like I'm a savage," she laughed.

"Honey, you look like extremely expensive wine."

"Is that a compliment?" she raised her eyebrows, taking another sip of the drink.

"It is if you want it to be," you shrugged and finally finished your beer, "Yo, brother! Pour me a Black Orchid, please."

"Wow, how enigmatic. Now you're the riddle?"

"No, but it would be fun to make you look for a Rata Alada so you can get into your room today."

You rarely made her truly laugh, and this was one of those times. You smiled as you looked at her.

"You know, I didn't expect you to have that drink with me today," the bartender returned with your drink. You thanked him with a nod and a smile.

"Why not?" she took a sip.

"I don't know, I thought you'd be at girls' night," you tried your drink and wrinkled your forehead a little at the taste, but it was delicious.

"Oh, yes I was invited," she finally set the glass down on the bar and leaned her elbow on it, "But I think there are certain boundaries that need to be respected, you know? A certain level of... uhm, separation, yeah."

"Those boundaries are definitely like the chains in an NFL game, right?" you teased, taking another sip of your drink, "Considering what happened with Rina and Minjeongie a couple days ago."

"That's just sex, it's of no consequence," she looked away with a nonchalant wave of her hand, "Now, a girls' night is much more intimate. You wouldn't understand, you have a cock."

"Nah, I think I understand you. And I have a cock," you pointed out.

Just like her, you left your glass on the bar and crossed your arms on top of it. Then, you lifted your butt only to move your stool closer to hers. She looked out of the corner of her eye as you were now practically leg to leg with her, you noticed a hint of a smile.

"And what about me? You don't mind being intimate with me, do you?" You raised an eyebrow as you looked at her.

"I bursted into tears like a little girl in your arms, what do you think that means?" She turned to look at you, and with her gaze still on your eyes she took a sip of the drink.

"That you had a mental breakdown?" She once again burst out laughing, you smiled.

"Yes, that could be too," she nodded, placing the glass back on the bar and looking at you again, "But I'm glad you were there... I felt safe."

You held her gaze for a few long seconds, long enough to leave you in a small trance. Once again those damn pretty lips. You looked at them again and again. And you could have sworn that she saw your lips too, but that must have been a figment of your imagination. Jihye finally blinked faster and came back to reality.

"Well, do you have any idea why I wanted to have drinks with you?" She changed the subject quickly.

"Uh... I honestly have no idea," you took another sip of your drink and looked towards one of the televisions, praying that the blush on your cheeks wouldn't show.

"Look."

She took out her phone and went into her contacts, scrolled for a few seconds and finally showed you the screen. 'Bae Johyun' you read. Then you noticed that the phone number was blurred and then you noticed that it was blocked.

"I finally blocked her. I want to move on with my life," she put the phone away again. You opened your mouth in surprise.

"Oh my god finally!" you cheered with a big smile on your face, "Damn, I'm so proud of you! Come on, let's make a toast to that."

"Cheers!" she said, smiling. You both raised your glasses, clinked them, and took longer sips than usual.

"Does that mean you accept my offer?"

"The one about looking for a hook up during the tour? Yeah, but not right now, that will have to wait a few days."

"It doesn't matter, the important thing is that you took a giant step."

Then you did something that, thinking about it very carefully, you didn't know why the hell you had done it. It was almost like a natural instinct, something you did without thinking about what possible consequences it could have. You leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Noze froze for a few seconds, but at that moment, thinking that you had done something perfectly normal, you didn't understand why. Then you saw how her cheeks acquired a light red blush. She giggled nervously and brought her hands to her cheeks to cover them.

"Something happens?" You tilted your head.

"Oh? No, no," she giggled, then quickly grabbed her glass from the bar and finished the rest of the drink in one gulp, "Uhm..." she wrinkled her brow, it had been too much.

"I guess you shouldn't have done that," you laughed, sipping patiently from your glass.

"No, definitely not," she blew air into her face with her hands and looked at the bartender, "Give me another one, please," she turned her gaze to you, "Uh… what are you planning to do during these next few?" days?"

"The main thing is to catch up with the Itzy girls, that's for sure. But I also want to go shopping, you know, for me and for them."

"Oh, in that case I have something for you."

She took her handbag and took out a small red Chanel wallet. From this she took out a credit card which she handed to you.

"Here. Use it and make sure you get them something nice. It's meant for tourist expenses, so there's practically no limit."

You took the card and examined it for a few seconds. Then you looked at her.

"Woman, how many unlimited monetary funds do you have access to?" you joked with an incredulous laugh. You put the card in your jacket pocket.

"Why? Are you only interested in my money?" She teased, then took a sip of her new drink.

"Well, you have enough mommy potential, why lie."

You made her laugh out loud again, and you smiled like an idiot again. You were starting to feel like this would become a non-sexual pleasure for you.

"Don't say that too loudly, I might get a mother complex and over spoil you."

You couldn't help but think about Lia and laugh about it.

"Then I won't do it. You have enough to take care of four unruly girls."

"Four unruly and horny girls, don't forget that detail."

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

You and Jihye drank those couple of drinks and two more rounds. The only thing you did during all that time was have a pleasant conversation full of jokes and topics of recent interest to discuss. Just like you were with Rina, you felt very comfortable around her, just being a couple of good friends who constantly messed with each other. However, there was something else with her, you couldn't identify what, and you didn't want to think about the worst either, but she had an aura that was too stupidly attractive for you. Every thing she did, every expression, every word and every body movement caught your attention and left you captivated.

"Oh shit, it's getting late," you said as you looked at the time on your phone, "Honey, I need to go to the hotel to check on the girls before my video call with ITZY."

"That's fine, baby, let's go. It's also my bedtime."

At that moment you also didn't realize that you were saying 'honey' and 'baby' to each other. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was just the naturalness with which you had been carrying everything for a couple of hours.

"Get away from there, I'll pay for everything, silly."

You obediently put away your phone and took a small step back. She got into that space you left so she could pay. Now her back was almost touching your torso, and you could smell the scent of her hair. It made too much sense to you that it smelled like blackberries. Then you did something else that you didn't think about at all, and that you did out of pure instinct. You placed your hands on her small waist. She didn't seem to care.

"Aight, let's go," she stepped aside and linked her arm with yours, "Thank you, very kind!" she told the bartender, who said goodbye with a wave of his hand.

When you walked outside you realized why Jihye had arrived at the bar so stupidly quickly. Parked waiting for you was a black sedan with tinted windows. The passenger window was down, Jihye crouched down a little to confirm that this was the driver and made you get in.

"Damn, how long has he been waiting here?" you said, climbing into the back seats with her.

"Since I arrived," she laughed, "I paid him for it, don't worry."

When you settled into the car it started heading towards the hotel. During the entire way Jihye never let go of your arm, even though she had all the space in the world to move in the seats. Only there, with your slow man's mind, did you realize that something was happening.

When you arrived you got off and she thanked the driver. Then you entered the lobby and went up to the first floor to take the elevator, which first stopped on Rina's room floor. When the doors opened, you took a step forward and turned to look into her eyes.

"Thanks for this, big guy," she told you with a little smile, "It was a fun night."

She also took a step forward, wrapped her arms around your neck and hugged you tightly. You wrapped your arms around her small body and reciprocated the hug.

"No problem, boss. It was fun for me too," you murmured in her ear, and then separated from her, "Rest well."

"You too, and good luck with the girls," she winked at you.

You turned to walk down the hallway, but she caught your attention again.

"Hey, just don't get too relaxed just because you're close to the boss," she warned, making an I'm-watching-you sign. Before you could respond, the elevator doors closed.

You finally turned around and walked down the hallway until you reached the door to Jimin's room. When you opened you found the lights off and all of them dressed in baggy and comfortable clothes. Everything seemed perfectly in order, they were all sitting on the bed, eating snacks, drinking Coca-Cola and watching TV.

"Hey, do you need anything? Maybe something else to eat or...?"

"What we need is for you to stop interrupting our girls' night out!" Minjeong said. You weren't surprised at that response.

"Aight, fair enough."

You approached each of them to say goodnight and kissed each one's cheeks except Ning's. You grabbed her by the chin, made her look at you and gave her a kiss on her lips. She smiled at you, you smiled back, and then turned to leave the room.

You took the elevator back and went to your floor. When you got to the door of your room and looked for your door card in your jacket pockets you couldn't find it. You didn't give it much importance, you just went to the reception, asked for a replacement and came back. While inside, you took all the things out of your jacket pockets and took it off. You also took off your shoes and pants, leaving you only in a sweatshirt, socks, and boxers.

You just laid down on your bed and waited. Yeji's video call arrived after about fifteen minutes. When you answered you were a little shocked, but frankly it didn't surprise you at all. On the other side of the screen they were all completely naked, all in different seductive poses on top of the extended sofa bed. The order from left to right was Ryujin, Yuna, Chaery, Lia and Yeji.

"Wow, what a nice surprise, right?" You said with a sly smile, looking carefully at each one of them and their perfect bodies.

"You like what you see huh?" said Ryujin, who was lying on her side just like in the photo she sent you. She put a hand on her ass and squeezed it.

"Daddy sure loves what she sees, don't ask stupid questions," Yuna said to Ryujin's side, then she put her hands on her tits and squeezed them. You were still impressed by how big she was.

"I'm going to spank your asses if you start arguing," you told them both.

"Yes please!" they both said in unison. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Well, you'll notice that we wanted to pull out all our tricks to remind you of what awaits you when you get home," Yeji said, playing with her own tits.

"Oh, believe me. I can't wait to go back and sink my fingers into those pussies again."

"How, like this?" Lia asked, spreading her legs wide open and taking a finger inside her pussy.

"Or maybe like this?" Yeji asked, bringing two fingers inside hers. They both let out a small moan.

"We thought it would be best to give you a show so you wouldn't have to imagine us too much while you're gone," Chaery said with an evil little smile. You were just surprised to hear her speak so confidently.

As soon as she finished that sentence, Ryujin crawled over Yuna and got on all fours between Chaery's legs, making sure the camera caught her ass with a butt plug buried in it. You looked at Chaery's face, and from the change in her expression you knew that Ryujin had started eating her out.

Being the restless girl that she was, Yuna moved to the other side of the sofa to get down and kneel in front of Yeji. She grabbed one of her feet and started kissing them. With Yuna worshiping her feet, Yeji removed her fingers from her pussy and reached between Lia's legs. Lia also took her finger out of her pussy, and as if it were a scripted act between them, they began to finger each other. The moans began to be present through the speakers of your phone.

At that point you could no longer resist the urge to touch yourself, so you took off your boxers and threw them on the floor. You brought one hand to your cock and started to stroke it slowly.

“You girls are so fucking sexy, fuck…” you gasped.

"You love this, don't you?" Yeji asked in a seductive tone looking directly into the camera as she pumped her fingers in and out of Lia's pussy.

Chaery was caressing Ryujin's hair, who was eating her out slowly but enough to make her moan again and again. Yuna stopped worshiping Yeji's feet and moved towards Lia, who began to kiss her thighs.

"I do love it, god. I can't wait to be there with you and hammer those pussies with all my might."

"Mmmgh!" Lia moaned louder, fucking Yeji's pussy with her fingers, "And fill our pussies with that hot load?"

"Fuck yeah baby," you started jerking off faster, making your moans audible so they knew what you were doing.

Yuna stopped kissing Lia's thighs and moved towards Ryujin, climbed onto the sofa again and removed the butt plug from her ass.

"Do you want to see a magic trick daddy?" Yuna asked, shaking the buttplug at the camera from side to side. She then turned her back to the camera, bent forward and buried the same butt plug that she had removed from Ryujin into her butthole. Then, she started eating Ryujin's ass fiercely.

You could barely hear Ryujin's moans muffled against Chaery's pussy, who judging by her red face and raised eyebrows you knew she was being eaten with much more enthusiasm and hunger. That led to her being the first to erupt in a chain of loud orgasms and spasms.

Lia matched Ryujin's position but in front of Yeji, who began to eat her pussy. Yeji tangled the strands of Lia's blonde hair between her fingers, and began to moan louder, looking directly into the camera with her predatory feline eyes. She wrapped her pale thighs around Lia's head, and raised her hips to grind her pussy against the blonde's mouth, throwing her head back and letting herself be carried away by the pleasure.

Ryujin's moans were heard more clearly since she had stopped eating Chaery's pussy, but she was still being eaten out by Yuna, who had both hands gripping her perfect buttocks while she shook her head madly against her ass and apparently her pussy too. Chaery moved away from the edge of the sofa, giving the three of them enough room to maneuver.

Yeji was the next to cum, making Lia eat her pussy and collect all her fluids. When her orgasm had passed, Lia stood up and pushed Yeji back against the couch, then straddled her, and crawled until her ass was on top of her face. She lowered her hips, burying Yeji's face between her fleshy buttocks. Yeji started eating her pussy while she squeezed her ass.

You were about to give them instructions, especially Chaery, Yuna and Ryujin, who were now sharing a torrid triple kiss. But your heart almost jumped out of shock when you heard the door to your room open. You immediately covered yourself with a pillow, but that fear soon disappeared when you noticed that the person who was entering was Ning.

You thanked God that none of the girls were looking at the camera and that they hadn't noticed your reaction. You quickly muted yourself.

"Honey, what are you doing?" you asked as she closed the door behind her.

"Don't worry about me..." she said while looking at your cock, also listening to what was happening on the other side of the screen.

She took off her cotton jacket and threw it next to your boxers. Then she also took off the pink tank top she was wearing and her bra. You looked at her beautiful free tits and bit your lip. You understood why she hadn't taken off her clothes from the waist down, you didn't comment on it.

You unmuted yourself, and turned your gaze to the screen to start giving orders to the ITZY girls.

"Chaery, eat Yuna's tits while Ryujin eats her pussy. Ryujin, you use your left hand to touch yourself and the other to finger Chaery."

The girls obeyed you, Yuna lay down with her legs spread and pressed against her torso; Chaery lay down on one side of her to bring one of her tits into her mouth, and Ryujin got on her hands and knees in front of Yuna's pussy, running one hand under her own body to rub her clit and extending her other arm to put her fingers inside Chaery's pussy. You continued to jerk your cock, alternating your gaze between the screen and Ning's eyes as she watched you touch yourself.

"Yeji, when you make Lia cum, go with Chaery and eat her ass real good. Lia, just make out with Yuna so you can rest."

While you were giving that order Ning had climbed onto the bed with you and knelt between your legs just to stare at you. When you finished giving the order and they started to move, she took your hand off your cock and replaced it with hers. You let out a louder moan as she matched your previous pace.

"Daddy, I can get my toys so we can all play, can I have permission?" Ryujin asked you, looking over her shoulder at you. You noticed that her jaw and her mouth were stained with saliva.

"Of course baby, but hurry up. Oh fuck..." you gasped. Ning had spit on her hand and now she was giving you a slippery handjob behind your phone. You were too careful not to accidentally press the flip camera button.

Ryujin disappeared from the plane and soon returned with her characteristic bag of toys. They all remained faithful to your orders until Yuna exploded with her first orgasm, that's when they all started taking toys out of the bag. Ryujin grabbed a bullet vibrator and a huge black silicone dildo; Yuna grabbed the pink dildo that she always chose and some black anal beads shaped like little balls; Yeji grabbed a clitoral stimulator and dildo that was small compared to the ones Ryujin and Yuna had chosen; Lia also picked up some anal beads, but these were cone-shaped; Chaery only picked up a microphone-shaped vibrator.

With the toys already chosen, the dirtiest of debaucheries began. Ryujin helped Yuna lubricate her anal beads and take them inside her ass while she was on her hands and knees. Yuna moaned loudly as each ball entered her tight butthole, until only the small ring by which the toy was held was outside of her. With her beads inside her ass, Yuna grabbed her dildo and slowly buried it inside her pussy to start fucking herself. Chaery took advantage of Yuna's mouth being free to sit in front of her and spread her legs so she could eat her pussy while she pressed the vibrator against her own clit.

Ryujin lay down next to Yuna and poured lube on her dildo to press it against her butthole. In a matter of seconds the dildo was halfway inside. She began using one of her hands to pump it over and over, and with the other she pulled on Yuna's anal beads, pulling them all out in a single pull that made Yuna squeal with pleasure. The process was constantly repeated, as Chaery caressed Yuna's hair and brought her vibrator to maximum speed.

When Yeji moved to the other side of the couch you realized that the clitoral stimulator was not for her, but for Ryujin. She turned it on, and the toy's little tongue began to move at full speed. Yeji brought it closer to Ryujin's pussy, and as soon as she pressed against her clitoris she began to writhe with pleasure. Then, Yeji took her small dildo and inserted it inside her pussy to start fucking herself at full speed with it.

Lia, on the other hand, had also lubricated her anal beads; but for this she asked Chaery for help. Lia stood on her hands and knees with her ass facing her, and Chaery grabbed her anal beads to bury them deep in Lia's trained ass.

Now the moans of the five girls were blasting through your speakers at full volume, in a catastrophic cacophony of pleasure and lust. You couldn't do anything but moan with them, not only looking at the screen and what they were doing, but also at Ning's eyes right above your phone as she gave you an incredible handjob.

All the girls came a few more times, Ryujin had even let out an intense stream of squirt that wet Yeji's entire naked body and the couch beneath them.

"Dear, are you close? We're starting to get exhausted," Yeji told you, turning to the camera. She was breathing hard and was covered in sweat.

Hearing that question, Ning hid behind your phone and took your entire cock into her mouth in one smooth motion. You rolled your eyes and let out a longer moan.

"Oh fuck yeah... I'm close," you stated between heavy pants. You moved your phone a little to the left so you could watch Ning suck you off.

Ning bobbed her head up and down again and again, covering your entire shaft with a thin layer of saliva and precum. Her hand was gripping the base of your cock, which she soon began using to also jerk you off while giving you one of the best blowjobs you had received since you were on tour with them.

"Perfect, because we still have one final act for you."

They all moved around the sofa and picked up Chaery to position her right in the center of it. Ryujin sat in the far corner to see everything, you noticed that she was the most exhausted. But the rest of the girls did jump into action. Lia lay down next to Chaery and started sucking, licking and kissing her tits. Yeji positioned herself between her legs, and took to alternating between feasting on her pussy and her butthole. Yuna finally sat on Chaery's face facing the camera and leaned forward to start rubbing her clit.

At that moment Ning took you out of her mouth and sat a few centimeters further away from your cock, taking advantage of how slippery your cock was to make a meat sandwich with her feet around it. She began to move her feet up and down, slow at first and picking up speed as the seconds passed. Soon you were also receiving an impeccable footjob.

From the way Chaery was writhing in the middle of all those bodies you could tell that she was approaching what was possibly the strongest orgasm she had ever had in her life. Ning felt you throbbing between her feet and leaned forward once again to now suck on your tip while jerking you off.

It didn't take long for all the inputs of pleasure that Chaery was receiving to bring her to her peak. She finally came, but you were surprised to see how she drenched Yuna's hand and Yeji's entire face with a powerful squirt. Seeing this made you and Yuna explode as well.

You grabbed Ning's head with your free hand and pushed it down until her nose was pressed against your pelvis. You shot spurt after spurt of hot cum into her throat, letting out loud moans that Yuna on the other side of the screen matched as she ground her hips against Chaery's face. You could hear Ning's gagging sounds as she took your entire load down her throat, and you just hoped the girls wouldn't do it.

Even though she was choking on your cock, Ning did her best to tighten her lips around your shaft so as not to let any drops spill out. When your orgasm was over, she pulled you out of her mouth and stuck out her tongue to show you that all your cum had gone down her throat and was gone.

"Well, I guess the real catching up will have to wait until one of the next few days," Yeji mentioned with a giggle, getting closer to the camera, "Fuck, these two bitches really squirted on me like they were in cahoots."

"Fuck..." you were breathing heavily, still recovering from that experience, "Yeah, sure baby," you nodded at Yeji.

"I have to hang up right now, we have to clean up this mess. I'll call you later, okay?"

"I'll be waiting, honey. I love you all, bye," you waved at the camera and blew them a kiss.

"Bye bye!" Yeji said, and as soon as she hung up you threw your phone aside.

"Ning Yizhuo..." you sighed, leaning up on your elbow to bring your hand to her face and caress it.

"I did a good job?" she asked with a shy tone of voice.

"You did amazing," you nodded with a smile, "Come here."

You put a hand on Ning's waist and pulled her up, she simply fell on top of you. Her naked tits pressed against you and her face below yours. You wrapped your arms around her and snuggled her against you as she placed her legs on either side of your hips.

"May I know how the hell you got in here?" you asked, stroking her hair.

"Well... Jimin-unnie has been giving us details of the days you spent together in Miami. I knew that I hadn't given you as much of myself or done as many things with you as she had, and since I didn't want you to forget about me, when you went to check on us and kissed me I took the card from your jacket pocket."

"How did you know it was there?"

"It stuck out of the pocket, darling."

You couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"Baby, I had to go to the lobby to get another card, you know?"

"I'm sorryyyy!" she said adorably, raising her head to look at you with a pout.

"You more than made up for it, believe me. So don't worry," you gave her a peck on the lips, "But honey, you don't have to compare yourself to any of the other members. I value each of you individually. Besides, I am the one who is here to help you and meet your needs. Not the other way around."

"I know, I know," she nodded as if she were being scolded, "But I couldn't help but feel like I want to be a lot more adventurous and try more things with you. Hearing how you reacted to Unnie's feet made me determined to want to try that, as well as giving you my other hole for the end of the tour... but I'm not ready for that yet."

"Dear, I am more than happy to help you explore new things, but only if they are things that you really want. I don't want you to feel pressured by the fact that the other members do things that you don't, that's not the important thing. "

Ning stared at you for a few long seconds and then cupped your face in her hands to kiss you again. This time it was a long, slow kiss, devoid of lust but full of love and affection.

"Thank you for always saying the right things and meaning them..." she murmured against your lips as she broke away from the kiss, "You're wonderful," she gave you a couple more short kisses, which you were happy to reciprocate.

"You really are wonderful, Ning Yizhuo, "Now lie down with me, let's spoon and take some sleep, will you?"

"Actually... I have to go back to Jiminie's room, honey, I'm sorry," she wailed with a sad look, "I don't want to raise suspicion when they wake up. They dropped dead before I left."

"Oh... sure," you nodded, even sadder than her, "It's okay, darling, no problem."

She got out of bed and began to put on the top garments that she had taken off.

"You should take me with you to ITZY's house sometime, it would be fun. I heard they have amazing pool parties."

"Well..." you went blank for a second, remembering the last day you spent there, "Yeah, I can certify that."

She approached you again, already dressed, and leaned in to give you one last kiss.

"Good night, sweetheart. Have sweet dreams," she told you, caressing your chin.

"Good night, cutie. You too," you responded as she walked towards the door, then left through it.

Left alone in your room you got up to put your boxers back on, turn off the light and go back to bed. You curled up under the covers, disappointed and a little sad that you didn't get to sleep with Ning that night. Before you could close your eyes you thought about many things. You thought about the drinks you had shared with Noze, and only then did you realize all the things you had done and that she had done. You had kissed her forehead, you had held her waist while she paid, and you had called her honey—her calling you baby and holding on to your arm the entire trip back, by the way.

You also thought about your conversations with ITZY, especially Chaery. She had adhered to the request you made of her, she took care of everything that was yours there as if it were hers. And the simple fact of imagining her sleeping in your bed just because she missed you and wanted to be close to you somehow shrank your heart to the size of a marble. You missed her, a lot.

Lastly you thought of Ning. She was full of things that reminded you of Chaery, but she in turn shone with a very special and unique aura. She was willing to do anything to please you and see you happy, and she was very expressive about her feelings for you, with physical contact being her main love language for you. Your heart was being invaded from several hills, and she was leading the way with an imminent invader also hot on her heels: Noh Jihye.

With all those thoughts swirling around your head, especially the image of three girls, you closed your eyes and tried to relax to sleep.

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

[daisyvisions]

A Little Motivation - (e.s)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Baseball Player!Eric x Fem! Reader ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: Being a volunteer tutor can be challenging, especially when it’s the university’s star athlete who hardly pays attention. How will you get him to focus and what lengths are you willing to go through to get his full attention? ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.5K ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), pervy!Eric, allusions to male masturbation, allusions to sexual favors, smut is not explicit per se, but let me know if I missed a warning! ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: had this drafted for quite sometime and finally found some motivation (lol) to finish it. Let me know if you’d like a part 2! Proofread once. ‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

Being a volunteer tutor was always something you were passionate about. You always loved to help others understand lessons they were stuck on, the smile on their faces when they get the correct answer, and even the spark in their eyes when they hit that “aha” moment.

And it really didn't matter to you how long it took some of the students to understand the lessons. Your patience was always one of your strongest traits. Never in your life had you felt irritable or impatient with anyone.

… that is until Eric Sohn entered the picture.

You've heard of the name countless times. He's practically the star athlete in your university. No matter who you were talking to, his name somehow found its way into the conversation. Not only was he the star athlete, but he was also known to be incredibly handsome.

His face looked like it was perfectly molded by the hands of a god. From his strong facial features all the way to his toned abs, one look from him would turn your knees into jelly.

But not you.

Eric Sohn was the bane of your existence the moment you were paired to be his tutor. You see, in order to keep his status as the star athlete, he needed to pull up his grades. Otherwise he would be kicked out of the baseball team (which was something he dreaded the most).

It all started when he showed up late to your first session all because he was flirting with someone outside of the library. Then later on he would constantly use his phone during sessions, half-ass his answers, wouldn't stop talking about sports or parties, etc.

Sure, you've had your fair share of distracted students. But he was a literal nightmare.

“Are you even listening to me?” you ask, trying your best to keep your cool.

“Yeah yeah atoms whatever-” he doesn't even look up at you while he's texting on his phone.

You were starting to become frustrated with him, wondering how anyone could see him as perfect when he's got the attention of a damn goldfish.

You sigh out of frustration, slamming the book closed and immediately pushing your chair away from the table to stand.

“I think we're done for today.” you wait for his reaction as you sling the strap of your bag over your shoulder.

“Yeah? Cool! See you tomorrow, tutor.” He winks at you before getting up. You scoff before you turn to leave the study room.

“See you tomorrow.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

The next day you were running late to your tutor session with Eric. Sprinting down the hall as fast as you could, you lost track of time tutoring another student who needed urgent help in finishing an assignment.

You barge in the private study room, immediately apologizing for your tardiness as you dropped your stuff onto the table and readjusted your hair and sundress from all the running.

“You okay there?” Eric asks while scrolling on his phone. “Yeah, got caught up with another student.” You breathe out.

“Ah shit-” you curse under your breath as your pen rolls off the table and you immediately drop down to get it.

As soon as you bend down to reach for the pen, Eric looks up from his phone to check what you’re doing and is suddenly greeted by the view of your sundress hiked up enough to give him a glimpse of your clothed cunt.

He felt like his eyes were about to fall off from the view in front of him. He knew he shouldn’t have stared but the way your ass was angled to him? He was ready to drop everything and worshi-

“Eric? Wanna start already?” you look up at him, noticing the hot flush in his cheeks.

“Y-yeah, yeah let’s start.” He frantically stutters, turning to his book as he tries to hide his embarrassment from you.

As the tutoring session goes on, it’s like you were slowly unraveling in front of Eric eyes. He kept getting distracted with the way your mouth moved when you talked, how your cleavage would show every time you shifted in your seat, and so on. You were like a forbidden fruit being dangled in front of his face and he was struggling to resist taking a bite into you.

The more he kept on looking, the more he could feel his cock strain beneath his pants. You’d think he’d be more distracted than ever when you would ask him questions, but it was quite the opposite. For the first time, Eric was actually paying attention during a tutoring session, but you already knew why.

And he wasn't so slick in hiding it either, you knew exactly why he was more attentive than usual today after catching him staring at your ass… So you decided to take advantage of the moment.

“Eric, can we take a tiny break first? I wanna talk to you about your progress.”

“Uh.. sure I guess?” his eyebrows scrunching in confusion.

“We've been at this for a couple of weeks now and it seems like your grades aren’t improving. They’ve been the same ever since and some even slowly dropping…” You heavily sigh as you lift your glasses up to your head and lean your elbows on the table, making sure your cleavage is tastefully exposed.

You can see the way Eric awkwardly shifts his legs from his seat, trying to “discreetly” adjust his jeans from the strain of his erection underneath.

You scoot a little closer, reaching your hand out to lightly grab his chin and get his eyes to focus on you, “What will it take for me to get you focused, hm?” You stare right into his dilated pupils.

“I-uh- I’m not s-so sure…” he stutters, trying to clear his throat from feeling the intensity of your gaze.

“I’ll tell you what-” You pull away your hand from his chin and place it on top of his thigh. You swear you heard a very faint gasp coming out of his mouth.

“If you get a really good score in your test this week… I’ll reward you with something special.” You stroke your thumb repeatedly on his thigh.

“Shit-” he mutters under his breath while trying to keep himself together.

“Do we have a deal?” You ask him.

“Yes, yeah. Totally, yeah we have a deal.” He quickly responds.

“Good!” You squeeze his thigh quickly before pulling back your hand and reopening your book, “Let’s get to it then!”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆.

After an hour and thirty minutes more of your tutoring session, Eric was able to answer all your questions correctly and even get an impressive grade on the short mock test you let him answer.

“Wow look at that Eric! You answered everything so well!” You place your hand on top of his.

“Couldn’t have done it without the best tutor…” he replies sheepishly.

“Good job! I’m so proud of you!” You move your hand to lightly stroke his hair, Eric’s cheeks flush at the praise and gesture.

“T-thank you…” he stutters as he tries to avoid looking back at you. Your praises subtly making his hard on strain even further.

As soon as the bell rings, you gather all your things into your bag and head out for the door. You stop midway to turn back to Eric.

“Oh yeah! Almost forgot-” Your hands suddenly disappear under your dress. You wiggle your hips a bit until Eric visibly sees your panties drop to your ankles.

“What are you doing?!” He loudly whispers, shocked by your sudden gesture.

His eyes widen and before he can even fully process what’s happening you quickly step out of your underwear and throw at his direction making it hit directly in his face. His eyes nearly roll back in his skull from getting a quick scent of your essence on them.

“A little reward for today superstar, you deserve it.” You walk towards him as he’s still seated in his chair, making sure your hover above him.

“I gotta go now but just remember-” you caress his jaw with your hand while keeping eye contact with him. His cheeks start to feel like they’re on fire from your lingering touch and the way you’re looking down at him.

“-every time you do well, you’ll get a reward… and it can be anything you want.” You swipe your thumb delicately across his bottom lip, making him whimper from your touch.

“See you tomorrow!” you pull your hand back and quickly exit the room, leaving Eric stunned in his chair, your panties still crumpled in his hand and a light wet patch forming at the front of his jeans. Oh he’s definitely gonna have some fun tonight thinking about you while he shoves your underwear in his face and pumps his cock like there’s no tomorrow.

And he’s especially excited on what kind of reward awaits him the next tutoring session.

-- Part 2 --

[cerealiii]

Screwtio brain rot in which Screwllum creates a simulated universe to house the memories of his life with one Veritas Ratio. For inorganic creatures the definition of "life" is perhaps one of their most defining struggles as some would question if they are in fact even alive, but what of Death? Does death mean the same thing to the inorganic as it does to short lived organic life?

I haven't seen much exploration of the inevitability of Ratio's passing. I don't think either would be foolish enough to walk the path of abundance. I think Veritas would be very pragmatic about his death, in fact I think he'd be the one to gift himself and his memories to Screwllum for...science (and maybe a bit out of love).

Side brain rot: simulated Ratio escapes from SU as a new “life”, a ghost in the shell that jumps between programs and networks and appears before Screwllum when he least expects it -- on an errant screen, a voice in the radio, a whisper in his ear... It's simply Aha fucking with Nous, to take one of their path striders, one devout but ignored by their aeon and setting them free along another path. Simulated Ratio knows exactly what he and how he was created...

--- Cerealiii

(back dated to match twitter) 240216

[qqueenofhades]

Hello! This is kind of a weird ask, I'm sorry to bother you, but seeing as you're a very intelligent studied historian that I deeply respect, I was hoping you could offer some advice? Or like, things i could read? Lately, i feel like my critical thinking skills are emaciated and its scaring the shit out of me. I feel very slow and like I'm constantly missing important info in relation to news/history/social activism stuff. Thats so vague, sorry, but like any tips on how i can do better?

Aha, thank you. There was recently a good critical-thinking infograph on my dash, so obviously I thought I remembered who reblogged it and checked their blog, it wasn't them, thought it was someone else, checked their blog, it also wasn't them, and now I can't find it to link to. Alas. But I will try to sum up its main points and add a few of my own. I'm glad you're taking the initiative to work on this for yourself, and I will add that while it can seem difficult and overwhelming to sort through the mass of information, especially often-false, deliberately misleading, or otherwise bad information, there are a few tips to help you make some headway, and it's a skill that like any other skill, gets easier with practice. So yes.

The first and most general rule of thumb I would advise is the same thing that IT/computer people tell you about scam emails. If something is written in a way that induces urgency, panic, the feeling that you need to do something RIGHT NOW, or other guilt-tripping or anxiety-inducing language, it is -- to say the least -- questionable. This goes double if it's from anonymous unsourced accounts on social media, is topically or thematically related to a major crisis, or anything else. The intent is to create a panic response in you that overrides your critical faculties, your desire to do some basic Googling or double-checking or independent verification of its claims, and makes you think that you have to SHARE IT WITH EVERYONE NOW or you are personally and morally a bad person. Unfortunately, the world is complicated, issues and responses are complicated, and anyone insisting that there is Only One Solution and it's conveniently the one they're peddling should not be trusted. We used to laugh at parents and grandparents for naively forwarding or responding to obviously scam emails, but now young people are doing the exact same thing by blasting people with completely sourceless social media tweets, clips, and other manipulative BS that is intended to appeal to an emotional gut rather than an intellectual response. When you panic or feel negative emotions (anger, fear, grief, etc) you're more likely to act on something or share questionable information without thinking.

Likewise, you do have basic Internet literacy tools at your disposal. You can just throw a few keywords into Google or Wikipedia and see what comes up. Is any major news organization reporting on this? Is it obviously verifiable as a fake (see the disaster pictures of sharks swimming on highways that get shared after every hurricane)? Can you right-click, perform a reverse image search, and see if this is, for example, a picture from an unrelated war ten years ago instead of an up-to-date image of the current conflict? Especially with the ongoing Israel/Palestine imbroglio, we have people sharing propaganda (particularly Hamas propaganda) BY THE BUCKETLOAD and masquerading it as legitimate news organizations (tip: Quds News Network is literally the Hamas channel). This includes other scuzzy dirtbag-left websites like Grayzone and The Intercept, which often have implicit or explicit links to Russian-funded disinformation campaigns and other demoralizing or disrupting fake news that is deliberately designed to turn young left-leaning Westerners against the Democrats and other liberal political parties, which enables the electoral victory of the fascist far-right and feeds Putin's geopolitical and military aims. Likewise, half of our problems would be solved if tankies weren't so eager to gulp down and propagate anything "anti-Western" and thus amplify the Russian disinformation machine in a way even the Russians themselves sometimes struggle to do, but yeah. That relates to both Russia/Ukraine and Israel/Palestine.

Basically: TikTok, Twitter/X, Tumblr itself, and other platforms are absolutely RIFE with misinformation, and this is due partly to ownership (the Chinese government and Elon Fucking Musk have literally no goddamn reason whatsoever to build an unbiased algorithm, and have been repeatedly proven to be boosting bullshit that supports their particular worldviews) and partly due to the way in which the young Western left has paralyzed itself into hypocritical moral absolutes and pseudo-revolutionary ideology (which is only against the West itself and doesn't think that the rest of the world has agency to act or think for itself outside the West's influence, They Are Very Smart and Anti-Colonialist!) A lot of "information" in left-leaning social media spaces is therefore tainted by this perspective and often relies on flat-out, brazen, easily disprovable lies (like the popular Twitter account insisting that Biden could literally just overturn the Supreme Court if he really wanted to). Not all misinformation is that easy to spot, but with a severe lack of political, historical, civic, or social education (since it's become so polarized and school districts generally steer away from it or teach the watered-down version for fear of being attacked by Moms for Liberty or similar), it is quickly and easily passed along by people wanting trite and simplistic solutions for complex problems or who think the extent of social justice is posting the Right Opinions on social media.

As I said above, everything in the world is complicated and has multiple factors, different influences, possible solutions, involved actors, and external and internal causes. For the most part, if you're encountering anything that insists there's only one shiningly righteous answer (which conveniently is the one All Good and Moral People support!) and the other side is utterly and even demonically in the wrong, that is something that immediately needs a closer look and healthy skepticism. How was this situation created? Who has an interest in either maintaining the status quo, discouraging any change, or insisting that there's only one way to engage with/think about this issue? Who is being harmed and who is being helped by this rhetoric, including and especially when you yourself are encouraged to immediately spread it without criticism or cross-checking? Does it rely on obvious lies, ideological misinformation, or something designed to make you feel the aforementioned negative emotions? Is it independently corroborated? Where is it sourced from? When you put the author's name into Google, what comes up?

Also, I think it's important to add that as a result, it's simply not possible to distill complicated information into a few bite-sized and easily digestible social media chunks. If something is difficult to understand, that means you probably need to spend more time reading about it and encountering diverse perspectives, and that is research and work that has to take place primarily not on social media. You can ask for help and resources (such as you're doing right now, which I think is great!), but you can't use it as your chief or only source of information. You can and should obviously be aware of the limitations and biases of traditional media, but often that has turned into the conspiracy-theory "they never report on what's REALLY GOING ON, the only information you can trust is random anonymous social media accounts managed by God knows who." Traditional media, for better or worse, does have certain evidentiary standards, photographing, sourcing, and verifying requirements, and other ways to confirm that what they're writing about actually has some correspondence with reality. Yes, you need to be skeptical, but you can also trust that some of the initial legwork of verification has been done for you, and you can then move to more nuanced review, such as wording, presentation of perspective, who they're interviewing, any journalistic assumptions, any organizational shortcomings, etc.

Once again: there is a shit-ton of stuff out there, it is hard to instinctively know or understand how to engage with it, and it's okay if you don't automatically "get" everything you read. That's where the principle of actually taking the time to be informed comes in, and why you have to firmly divorce yourself from the notion that being socially aware or informed means just instantly posting or sharing on social media about the crisis of the week, especially if you didn't know anything about it beforehand and are just relying on the Leftist Groupthink to tell you how you should be reacting. Because things are complicated and dangerous, they take more effort to unpick than just instantly sharing a meme or random Twitter video or whatever. If you do in fact want to talk about these things constructively, and not just because you feel like you're peer-pressured into doing so and performing the Correct Opinions, then you will in fact need to spend non-social-media time and effort in learning about them.

If you're at a university, there are often subject catalogues, reference librarians, and other built-in tools that are there for you to use and which you SHOULD use (that's your tuition money, after all). That can help you identify trustworthy information sources and research best practices, and as you do that more often, it will help you have more of a feel for things when you encounter them in the wild. It's not easy at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes more so, and will make you more confident in your own judgments, beliefs, and values. That way when you encounter something that you KNOW is wrong, you won't be automatically pressured to share it just to fit in, because you will be able to tell yourself what the problems are.

Good luck!

[byhees]

flirt ━━ ( 엔하이픈 희승 ) ♡ genre fluff potential friends2lovers warnings not proof-read flirting

thinking about best friend heeseung, who’s just the living definition of ‘flirty’; it comes so naturally to him, and well… you both are two peas in a pod, so i guess these little comments and gestures feel like second nature to him.. aha.. and of course, it’s only ironic that you have some ginormous crush on him… aha..

and maybe it’s a curse in disguise— how good he is at talking, how easily he’s able to fluster you, even to the point where you can’t bear to even meet his gaze; maybe he doesn’t know the kind of effect he has on you?? maybe he just relishes in the pinkish hue your face takes on, not aware of the deeper meaning in your blush-dusted face?? because he just loves asking little questions, ones that sound akin to “we could be more, you know?” and let’s be real… when your best friend, or otherwise, your crush, asks you such a thing, it’s only natural to freak out…. a little…

and when you do respond with a tint of cluelessness, an emotion used to mask the heart-fluttering sensation surging throughout your body, he only leans forward, face now inches away from your own— “you know exactly what i mean”, oh god just kiss me already.

also, also, he has a habit of leaning really close towards you, body towering over your own, as he whispers words he’d only want you to hear; “we should definitely get out of here… don’cha think?” he’d ask, voice barely a mumble amidst the crowd. and when he catches sight of your reddened cheeks, he just can’t help but to let a chuckle slip past his lips.

don’t. even. get. me. started. on how much he loves caging you between his arms, a teasing smirk toying on his lips; “you’re so cute”, he’d mumble, and oh boy, the way he swipes his tongue across his lip, eyes fixated on your own, has you crumbling. i mean, how can you not?? he’s so, so close, and he’s so, so pretty. and when he takes a step back, a playful smile tugging on his lips, you can feel your heart doing full-on somersaults within your chest; he’s so oblivious… so oblivious as to how every gesture gets your heart skipping beats— certain times, you just have this massive urge to tell him, “i love you, idiot”…. who knows, maybe you’ll do it one day..?

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[slowd1ving]

✦ II. COME HITHER, CURSE WHERE HE LIES

"This was the tale of the seventh prince; an elegy hidden from the footnotes of history. Within the game Lament of Ouroboros, his sorrows were summarised thusly: A strangely warm vein of ore.  Hero, come here when dusk kisses the edge of the Borderlands. As your palm brushes against the rock, you may be able to feel the pulse of a slumbering prince.  Three sentences were all that was afforded to the disgraced prince, forgotten to all but the Moirai." • . * cursed prince ratio + alchemist m reader rough design for minoan fashion ratio here warnings: video game violence, death? kind of? tyranny (are we surprised), male-coded reader (or at least the in-game avatar is), depictions of gore, turning into stone wc: 4.2k

LAMENT OF OUROBOROS MASTERLIST

HONKAI STAR RAIL MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

It took all of one year for the warning to become prophecy. One year, approximately four hundred and eight days—give or take—for the two Suns to align themselves in the exact arrangement they had on the Day of Silence. And in that single year, the schemes of Veritas Ratio would germinate, blossom, and finally wither away irrelevantly. 

He was born quietly, and thus his end would, too, be quiet. 

The month of Hekatombaion had the seventh prince leave his tower: like a bird set free from its gilded cage. Though he was never caged, per se, the youth knew it was safest to stay in its stone walls: away from the all-consuming, bloody struggle for the throne, away from the greedy claws of his siblings and their power-hungry gazes. Yes, it was far easier being a shunned seventh prince than getting swept up in the tides of fatal politics. 

Fatal, indeed—the internal strife had already claimed the lives of two of his siblings. He was the fifth prince, if one regarded the situation objectively—but it was better to lurk in the oblivion. Seven was a less significant number than five, after all. 

Hekatombaion was the month of venture. The Day of Silence had occurred in its beginning; the day to mark the new year, where the blank canvas of muteness would sluggishly accumulate the sins and sorrows of the populace in the coming days and weeks. Like honey trickling over sweet basyniai, the seventh prince would begin to spread his own influence to achieve his saccharine conclusion. 

So, the youth ventured forth—though not into the bloody palace, but the summer-worn streets and the agora. Past the stands selling their wares, and the philosophers sermonising on the achromatic cobblestones, were those conducting business and students of the various schools in Metis. The work and school day had shortly ended—the evening of debates and discourse had just begun. 

Without the gilt laurels which suggested his status as one of Elation’s blood, he was no more prince than he was peasant. The drape of his clothes and their exceptional craftsmanship did, however, mark him as a wealthy man—perfect for infiltrating the symposium of a guileless young master. 

Thus, the prince incognito began frequenting these conferences and gleaning precious information and gossip from the drunken fools who sought to boast of their knowledge and logos. Their fallacies were awful for entertainment, but Veritas was very grateful for how witless their lips were. All the news, rumours, and information passed around students and teachers alike were his for the taking: the rudimentary designs from which he would craft his weapon. From these anserine gatherings with peers a few years older than him he crafted a network of the politics of the kingdom: who sat behind and whispered to the magistrates; who supported the polemarch and just who was responsible for the military advancements of the archon in charge of armed forces; and finally, the influence of Aha and his siblings on the spread of the kingdom. 

These were the preliminary preparations for investigating the ruling class of Metis. 

Metageitnion was the month for thanksgiving. The seventh prince’s presence at the mess hall was nothing out of the ordinary, then, for the arid weather heralded festivities and games where his attendance was expected—if not mandated. As opportunistic as he was for information, he naturally assumed his place below his siblings: slightly sycophantic, yet assuredly not a threat. 

Dried figs melted on his tongue—a mellifluous snack he’d consumed plenty of in his tower, but tasted especially cloying as praises flowed from his mouth like honeyed wine. His siblings, vain as they were, dangerous as they were, liked observing how their shunned brother cowed neatly before them. Though, the watered-down liquor they ingested was nowhere near enough to loosen their lips on matters of heresy; another span of days passed without gaining information. In its stead, he established himself as a vapid fool with no interest in scrabbling for the throne: a slippery, cowardly bastard who simply wasn’t worth the effort to kill off. 

Had they paid attention to the glowing reports from his tutors, had they cared an iota for anyone but themselves, they might have noticed that his smarts didn’t just extend to backing off from the throne. Perhaps then, they would have surmised that the compliments and agreements uttered with his smiles were strategic more than anything. 

But his tower was isolated from the main palace, and he was no more a danger than a caged bird. 

A fool, just like the rest of them. Alas, his gormless act perhaps was a bit too convincing—the siblings in the know wouldn’t entrust state secrets to someone who appeared as imbecilic as he did. Nonetheless, they grew accustomed to seeing him, and his presence where they were no longer seemed unusual. 

This was how Veritas tactically placed himself onto the petteia board as a piece that could no longer be overlooked. 

Boedromion was a month of aid, so the prince decided to extend a hand to those seeking help in the assembly. From behind the scenes, he handpicked those he needed for his investigation: those who had the ear of the archon in charge of the military, those who worked in administrative wings of the palace, those who could be moulded into perfect aides for his siblings. He observed the strata unable to speak up, unable to assert themselves in the agora, unable to hold any sway of their own. 

It was no altruism when he pulled them aside. Into their minds he painted himself as the benevolent saviour; the silver tongue who gave them their voice in the assembly back. In return, they turned themselves to pieces on his game board. Hence, he gained valuable information and more reliable rumours to investigate about the imperial family. Who to talk to, who to bribe, who to follow when the twin suns dipped below the horizon and the moon embraced the sky once more. 

These were the new connections the seventh prince forged—a net far more sound than the ramshackle collection of drunken scholars and fools from the symposia. 

Pyanopsion was the month of harvest, so his Highness watched his efforts fruit into an audience with Aha. The drunkard was shrewd—far too clever for someone rumoured to be an imbecile—therefore the seventh prince bowed before the sovereign and spoke no honeyed platitudes to THEM. When the king asked for his thoughts on the assembly, he answered honestly—and THEY guffawed with THEIR chalice in hand. When the king asked for his opinion of the people, he answered fraudulently—and THEY ruffled his amaranth locks with a hand that felt far too distant for a father. 

What are people, if not tools for the Elation?

There is no greater joy for them than serving us on this grand stage. 

Do you not agree, your Majesty?

Lie after lie dripped from his composed mouth. Even as he thought of the bright children running through sun-dappled streets, even as he thought of the beaming pedlars and their wares, even as he thought of the joy in the ordinary, mundane families he came across in the synoikiai—all these mentations came to a halt behind his expression. In those three sentences, his heart had hardened against THEM: as THEY smiled, as THEY affectionately broke bread with him, as THEY gestured for sweet wine to be poured into his cup. 

The youngest prince was no longer a mere prince but Aha’s son; an acknowledgement that only served to disgust the youth further. 

How vile. 

And though his goal was reached, this was how the Elation successfully alienated itself to Veritas. 

Maimakterion was the month of cold, and so the prince retreated to the stone palace for the first time since childhood. Past nightfall, he breached the lax security of the grand library and accessed its restricted section. All his manoeuvring, all his alliances and mind-numbing conversations—it was worth it to finally enter this place once more. 

There, in a forgotten corner that seemed more sepulchral than even the mausoleum, the seventh prince found what he had searched for. Penned in faded ink that he could barely see even with the light enchantment, was proof of collusion between the imperial family and the so-called ‘heretics’.

This was the point in time where his Highness felt the most vindicated towards the venerable Sophos and THEIR mockery. 

This was also the point in time where his Highness could no longer step off the path he had chosen. 

“Do you think he can feel it?” The maiden idly twined threads past HER fingers, for it was far more entertaining to see a mortal walk towards his doom with a head held high. “Surely there must be some sense of ill portent.” 

“The men most arrogant are least prepared for their end, Clotho,” the mother rebuked, but the syllables were about as harsh as spring butterflies—for SHE, too, anticipated the boy’s expression as he stared into the face of his own hamartia. 

“Hubris!” the hag cackled, yet the tremble of HER deathly grin belied the ever-present tears that traced the weary lines of HER face. “What a terrible conclusion.”

For the Moirai, this fate was nothing more than a short-lived, tragic play. 

And so, the month of Posideon passed quickly for both the three and the prince. The information inked into the yellowed scrolls was his proverbial labyrinthine thread, tugging his body to his salvation. Through the throngs of regular humans, his path was etched towards the harbingers of heresy: alchemists and their ilk. 

Throughout these days, he hardly thought of Sophos Nous at all; yet the familiar sensation of exoneration remained. He would prove himself before THEM; he was ready to put Aha to trial in front of the assembly if need be. 

The archontes were not infallible. 

This fact applied to Aha especially. 

When he probed those labelled as heretics, he was bitterly reminded that this wasn’t their fault. They were not the lawmakers, nor were they those with choice. Victims. Shackled to the Elation, their actions were akin to those of a puppet: pushed towards their day of reckoning by a force far superior to their own. 

Thus, the seventh prince worked tirelessly. Through the short days, through the long nights—he toiled away in his tower. He compiled sets of arguments, practised endless logos, drafted out the evidence necessary to condemn those at fault within the upper echelons of Metis. 

Gamelion came and went. Under the guise of a serving boy and some forbidden enchantments, Veritas walked the long stretches of the palace with nothing but worn sandals on his feet. He traced its ancient mosaics: memorising the old walkways and floor plans gifted by one of his acquaintances. For preparation was the friend of success, and the prince was nothing if not successful in his endeavours. 

It all led up to this night—stepping into the room sequestered from any official floor plan. 

“Look at him,” the maiden cooed. The spindle in HER cruel hands stilled momentarily—for a brief while, none were born. Though, this was an insignificant deviance in the tapestry of humanity: far too quick for anyone to realise. “Has he realised he’s out of his depth yet?”

“Hardly,” the matron scoffed. “He’s ablaze with self-righteous anger, as it were. Surely he could not have been ignorant of the sins on his own blood-kin’s hands?”

“Lachesis,” the hag warned. “Keep silent and enjoy the act.”

“Don’t tell me you feel sympathetic, Atropos?” the mother sneered, for it was ludicrous that the Moirai felt any sort of attachment to humanity. To fairly allot, the reason for THEIR very existence, was no longer possible if any bias was introduced to any of them. 

“Hardly,” the crone muttered. HER sentimentality would not affect HER role in this universe; just as it had been before, and as it would be after, HER shears would continue their severing of life from humans. 

The three were rapt as the prince gazed around the hall. Every turbulent beat of his heart, every miniscule grit of his molars, every bitter fist his sinuous hands made—all of his reactions were carefully documented, since a tragic hero like him had not been observed for an age and then some. 

It was by no means a modest room. The circumference of the marble spanned the equivalent of the large temple dedicated to the Elation, propped up by frieze-decorated columns. Stone reliefs etched into the walls depicted the rise of his lineage; they were intertwined with a sickening repertoire of mythos that they had no place against. Heroes of the old gleamed bright against his family’s wickedness—so utterly out of place he couldn’t help but gaze foully at the castings. 

Turned yonder, and the door through which he came glinted with the tell-tale light of an enchantment: a rippling string of formulae that indicated the space warping which enveloped this place. Yes, although the archon had expressly forbidden use of enchantments, they clearly had no qualms about taking the knowledge for their own gain. 

For the Elation is above the law. 

Past the vast anteroom was another door; this one, too, distended and undulated under his piercing gaze. Or rather, the silent movement of his mouth as he shattered its illusions and breached its innermost chamber—and this one was the one which struck him still. 

The seventh prince could only watch, horrified, as the expanse of terror unfolded before him. There was no escape from the sight, not unless his eyes were plucked out of his skull. 

Aeons. 

There was no space unblemished by golden cadavers. Cadavers, for statues surely wouldn’t possess faces distorted in crazed screams and bodies contorted in the most despicable of agonies. Cadavers, for surely their pain had ended—he prayed they were dead within their metallic shell, he prayed their souls had departed the material world, he prayed that his presence didn’t disturb their rest any further. 

Bile rested bitter in his mouth, and he struggled not to let the acrid film swirl into vomit—for his stomach churned and his palms grew clammy at the sight. 

These were the supposed threats to the Elation—innocents whose only crime had been to be against the tyranny of his family. 

For their dissent, they’d been dipped in molten gold—either dying through the intense heat, or slowly withering away as the alchemy chipped away at their flesh. 

Both options were equally horrifying. The seventh prince’s vision swam, and he barely made it back to his tower before his legs finally gave out. 

Yes, the prince had gained the knowledge he finally needed to take down his family, but at what cost?

Deep inside, he already knew the heavy feeling in his heart was the price he was beginning to pay. 

If only he knew the fate allotted to him at the end of this thorny path. 

Anthesterion trickled by slow as a fat bee. Sluggish. Every second was prolonged, every moment was accompanied by his racing pulse and adrenaline-stricken brain. No longer did he need to act the cowed prince—for before his siblings, his mouth grew dry and his pupils constricted into mere pinpricks. 

When he glanced at his sister, he saw the golden woman who’d wept with her body curled in on herself: shoulders hunched to her ears, hands sharpened into desperate claws (gouging at her flesh, since everyone knew pain nullified pain—and what greater anguish was there than losing your very body to aureate?). She’d writhed in her last moments; the harrowing movements had sent shockwaves all throughout the security enchantments. 

He could taste her tears.

When he stared at his three brothers, he also stared at the man who had ripped off his own arm to escape his inescapable fate. He stared at the blood that had pooled like gilt on the marble floor, for not even his most ardent lifeblood could evade the disgusting talons of his kin. He stared at the expression of horror the man had: eyes bulging out of their sockets, mouth twisted to an excruciating scream, and a wretched gaze afflicting him. 

He could feel the oily sanguine dripping from his own hands. 

He could no longer escape his siblings either. 

They relished in the iron grip they had over the city. They revelled in the generated fear. They savoured their long talks—talks which Veritas was now privy to, talks in which he did his best not to heave up the fruit in his stomach and the bilious film that now perpetually dwelled on his tongue. He was reviled, but they indulged in their craving for petrification with a particular sapidity that broke him down—over and over and over until he could no longer smell anything that didn’t carry the stench of copper. 

That was perhaps the month in which the seventh prince grew the most ill. 

Elaphebolion trailed its ghostly fingers around his neck like a noose. He grew careless in his haste to put his family before trial: left too many loose ends, made too many connections, and drew the attention of far too many eyes. 

It didn’t take long for his tower to truly become the cage of his metaphor. 

No, it took less than three days from his last meeting with an informant to find the door to his tower securely locked. Overnight, while the seventh prince restlessly slumbered, wrought bars enclosed his windows in one final trap. 

Thus, the prince was prince no longer, but a bird with its wings clipped forevermore. 

But that was not the end of it—for if it was, his life-thread would not have been seeped with the bloodiest of carmines. 

Mounichion was when Aha finally came to visit THEIR wayward son. 

Join me, THEY offered—though Veritas knew THEIR proffered hand was no salvation, but puppet strings that would attach to his own. For the ceaseless entertainment of the Elation, this was perhaps the greatest mercy Aha could extend: to become a dull marionette in this gilded cage until only his bones were strung up for all to ridicule. 

And when THEIR son’s incensed gaze did not waver, THEY sighed. 

Maddened with grief, boy? THEY mocked the look in his irises—once as bright and sweet as cherries, now dulled to the hue of dried blood. 

Kill me, those numbed eyes seemed to respond—but futilely, the youth wanted to live. 

“I’ve something much better, son.”

Mounichion was thus the month of confinement, where Aha planted a short-lived weed of hope that sprung up in the cracks of the prince’s heart—and withered just as quickly. 

Thar-gelion was when Veritas avoided death, but lost many things in return. 

It had started off small. His vision began to blur somewhat, but he chalked it to confinement in his tower. Even when he crafted himself ocular lenses and fitfully forced himself to sleep in the topmost room, there were moments in which the edges of his sight faded and greyed with a frequency that slowly increased. 

He browsed anatomical manuscripts. When the light from the twin Suns was particularly dim, he struck the oil-lamps with crude enchantments and perused their words as though they held the key to his answers—yet the lack of solutions was not enough to alarm him.

It should’ve been. 

His sense of smell was next to mute, though this was a far more subtle difference than his sight. Being confined to a particular area would obviously force one to grow accustomed to its ins and outs—including the odours and various scents of it. It wasn’t a problem, until one day Veritas Ratio noticed he could no longer quite smell the papery fragrance of his scrolls, nor the rich tang of his ink. 

Yet still, he ignored the warning signs. After all, he was preparing for his eventual execution. 

Naturally, his taste palate, too, had dulled due to his weakening olfactory sense. Although, this loss was far less profound than one might have anticipated—but it made all too much sense if one took into consideration his status as a prince awaiting judgement. Feed him enough so he survives. A few pieces of flatbread, some cheese, and one or two bruised handfuls of dried fruits were dropped through the bars daily—along with a skin of sour wine—much like feeding a wild bird when it had not yet been tamed enough for the door to open. These various foodstuffs were bland enough that it wouldn’t have made a difference if he could taste either way. 

Thus, the prince simply did not notice this sense fading.

The next sense to take leave was his hearing, and this time he did feel the difference. His balance was affected, though he surmised that was due to the lack of nutrients his body received. But when the fragile rustle of paper against his fingers stopped registering; when the tell-tale thump of his heart in the silence of his room grew silent; when he could no longer hear his own neurotic waves of breathing—this was when the seventh prince realised something was dreadfully wrong. 

He’d screamed himself hoarse, tearing at his skin with his nails to wake from this forsaken dream—only to no longer feel his crescent nails digging into flesh. 

No. No.

Air came shallow to the prince as his fading eyes desperately fixated on the blood welled on his arms. He could not feel the wounds. He could not smell the metallic crimson dripping in rivulets. He could not hear the hasty, panicked breaths and his racing pulse. And finally, when he put his mouth to staunch the flow, he could not taste the acrid tang on his palate either. 

And so, the prince spent the month of Thar-gelion slowly losing his mind. 

Skirophorion was when it came to a bitter end. 

In those days, His Highness barely left his bed. Sleep was now the only respite; he could no longer read his books, he could no longer pore over his beloved tools, and he could no longer support his weakening body. Any meals were now delivered far more sporadically; alas, the prince rarely ever ate. 

Death was imminent. 

His mind had long since given up, and his body was sure to follow. 

Any day now. Veritas could only count the seconds, the minutes and the hours—no longer could the youth cross the days off, not when his joints and limbs had petrified. 

Death was a mercy the prince would not receive. 

It was when Aha next visited THEIR son at the tower that Veritas truly learnt of the state he was in. 

No, he was no longer at his tower. That was a lie—a last comfort afforded to the prince. 

Poor child, all of this suffering could have been avoided, Aha’s message burst bright in his dulled mind. He thought he felt his index finger twitch. 

Would you like to see what you look like? The golden impression faded, as though Aha was waiting for the prince to answer. Well, I suppose you can’t answer either way. 

A sort of horrified fascination lingered in the scholar’s mind. Had his flesh, too, been transmuted to an aureate statue?

Did you think you’d join your people as one of MY sculptures? The question shook sympathetically, or maybe it was a dry laugh as the king looked on at THEIR pitiful son. 

No, child, you deserve a tragic end befitting MY line. 

And thus, the youth blindly awaited his judgement. 

Death shall never end thee, for madness will be thy salvation. 

No longer did he sense Aha’s presence. 

Rather, one last image was transmitted through the king’s enchantment—a cliffside, in which Veritas could faintly see his own features carved into the rock. Then, nothing. 

The stone smoothed out, and his image was struck from history forevermore. 

. 　⁺ ✦ 

When the next Day of Silence came and went, the prince was truly mute. He had no mouth, after all—so not a scream left him. 

The only thing he had left were his thoughts: one last, final burden. 

Is this the cost YOU foresaw, Nous? 

Veritas Ratio’s arrogance was no more. And so, the prince’s story came to a swift, acrimonious end. No, not end, for that implied that he was not shackled to limbo.  Bound to neither gold nor a statue, he would spend the rest of time waiting to be purified of his sins—for gold was finality. Gold was the most sacrosanct form of death he had not been afforded. 

And as the prince continued to count away the seconds, the minutes, the hours and eventually the years which trickled past in the hourglass, only insanity awaited him. 

This was the tale of the seventh prince; an elegy hidden from the footnotes of history. 

Within the game Lament of Ouroboros, his sorrows were summarised thusly:

A strangely warm vein of ore. 

Hero, come here when dusk kisses the edge of the Borderlands. As your palm brushes against the rock, you may be able to feel the pulse of a slumbering prince. 

Three sentences were all that was afforded to the disgraced prince, forgotten to all but the Moirai. 

Three sentences were how his tragedy was retold. 

Three sentences, a final insult to the most pitiful of princes. 

. 　⁺ ✦

[silent-sanctum]

I hope you're doing fine mijin🤩💗....

Can I request a fic where the stone ocean group survives and jotaro meets his wife(the reader) or ex wife that's upto you

Aha! A 2-for-1 special! Also, hiya @jotarosimpforever and to you too anon 👋 I'm doing fine thank you! Sorry it took this long to answer your requests, I'm currently on vacation so I was busy doing stuff 🫡 But here it is! A post-Stone Ocean fic featuring domestic times with our favorite DILF 6taro 😘 Hope you enjoy ♡

Way Home - Part 6! Jotaro x Reader

word count: 3.3k

“Breaking news: The recent events people termed as the “Shifting Skies Phenomenon” comes to an abrupt halt, resulting in mass casualty midst the confusion of countless civilians worldwide”

The scene was in complete chaos just the way it was for the past few hours. Where it was due to destruction as the heavens changed hues, from burning autumn to midnight void and back in a blink of the eye, now everything and everyone were in complete loss of control, emergency respondents dispatched to numerous vehicular accidents and spontaneous locations with crowds sporting spontaneous injuries.

Where others wouldn’t know what else to brand this phenomenon but “otherworldly”, you knew it as a catastrophic Stand attack.

And you’d come to know these information because of none other than your own husband- A solitary individual who opted to keep his responsibilities a secret from the people he loved, to sacrifice his happiness and suffer a life of “kill-or-be-killed” if it meant giving his family the normal life he could never have.

If it weren’t for circumstances that got yourself involved in one of these Stand encounters, you wouldn’t find yourself falling into the rabbit hole that was learning the nature of Stands, and eventually taking up a managerial role in an exclusive private organization as one of their agents. If it weren’t for that eventful day, you wouldn’t be able to meet Jotaro.

That stoic, abrasive, yet loving man…

Images of him smiling at you with fondness glazing his sharp blue eyes flashed in your mind as you imagined the same man charging head first into the battlefield to save and protect his and your only daughter from this grand scale threat.

And with the sky and the Earth’s gravity returning back to its usual state, you should be relieved knowing the enemy was defeated.

But without being there to witness how it ended, you gave into overthinking, imagining the repercussions that were dealt to achieve the cost of such victory.

As if snapping back to reality, you found yourself running through a plethora of bustling Speedwagon Foundation employees, almost crazed and frantic. The organization was just as rushed and busy as the rest of the world was with one half of the Foundation attempting to get shit under control by getting in-contact with non-government networks for aid and support, and the other half accommodating injured civilians to help reduce the local hospitals from overcrowding.

And just as what’s written in paper, you’ve received information that a chopper had just arrived with 2 members of the Joestar family onboard, injured from a fatal fight. You wasted not even a split second to bolt from the safety of your room and here in the private foundation’s building.

You rounded a corner, pushing past a couple more of people until you were met with a signage that read “Medical Wing”. You’ve studied the place’s layout enough times since Jotaro first brought you here during your orientation. While the place crowded with panicked and wounded civilians, you knew that the Foundation had exclusive areas and services reserved for the convenience of the Joestar bloodline.

Frustrated, you were desperate enough to seek the first nurse you could see and ask where her family was, but you’d find out that wouldn’t happen. Your hurried steps led you to the emergency room and instead of a random nurse, your attention landed on a teenage girl with messy space buns and torn clothing sitting on one of the benches lining the hallway leading to the operating room.

With one arm in a cast and her waist bandaged, the young girl had her free hand curled into a fist, head bowed as she struggled to hold back her sobs.

At the sight of her, your eyes welled up with tears. “Jolyne…”

In an instant, she jerked her head upright at the sound of her name. It took her a couple of seconds before she saw you standing a few feet away from her. Like mother and daughter, Jolyne’s face crumpled into one of sadness, the tears that she held back now rolling down her cheeks. “Eomma-”

You crossed whatever distance was between you and your child and brought her into a tight hug. “I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m really sorry mom.”

With ease, you withdrew enough for you to do another quick scan over her body. “Are you hurt bad?” You grasped her shoulders with a hand, the other reaching up to cup her wet cheeks. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

Your questions only sent Jolyne into another sob, breaking into tears the second you showed your extreme concerns. “I-I’m fine, but appa-”

You paused. “What… What happened to him?”

“He protected me, my friends, b-but…” She furiously swiped at her eyes despite her sobs. “He’s injured the most. He was bleeding everywhere and now-”

You kept yourself as calm as possible, even if you were on the brink of collapsing yourself. “Where is he?” Jolyne pointed to the double doors leading to the operating room.

Your heart caved in at the thought of your husband laying unconscious being worked on by surgeons and nurses to preserve his life. With a heavy and shaky sigh, you nodded as you willed yourself to not cry in front of your daughter.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do better,” Jolyne cried. “I’m sorry for letting that stupid accident with that asshole happen that led to dad going through all this bullshit for me-”

You quieted her as you pulled her into another hug, softly caressing her head. “It’s not your fault, pearl,” you said with a whisper. She continued to sob as she buried her face on your shoulder. “Your father knows that too.”

Gently, you led your daughter to one of the benches and sat her down with you beside her. Considering you’d thought the worst before arriving at the Foundation, you looked at the closed double doors with a newfound sense of reassurance. Another sigh.

“Let’s just wait and hope for the best.”

---

The consistent beeping of his vitals echoed throughout the dimmed room and you were left alone with Jotaro, still unconscious with half of his face heavily bandaged together with his throat, an oxygen mask fit on his nose and mouth.

Jolyne visited minutes earlier and told you that she’d be checking with how her other friends were doing.

An hour ago, you and Jolyne stood up immediately as soon as the surgeon stepped through the swinging doors. To everyone’s relief, they managed to stabilize him from his critical state.

According to him, your husband had a pre-existing heart condition that caused his pulse rate to beat at irregular, rapid intervals. Combined with the knowledge of him having to exert excessive strength despite waking up from a comatose state and the heavy amount of stress piling up the past few months, his body had chosen to shut down the second his adrenaline depleted.

Thinking about that again made you scoff through your tears. “You were always an impulsive idiot…” Saying those words caused your eyes to swell again and sniffle.

But what’s done was done. The doctors did what they could and all you can do was to sit beside him, holding his hand with both of yours, praying that he’d recover faster, enough for him to wake up and calm your worrying heart.

Without realizing, you ended up falling asleep still sat on your chair by his bed. You didn’t know how long time has passed in your slumber and you couldn’t be bothered to find out. All that mattered right now was staying by your husband’s side, letting him know, in spirit perhaps, that he wasn’t alone and that you were with him now.

In a way you couldn’t perceive, you somehow felt like he was comforting you as well. A comforting chill would brush against your cheeks, hair, shoulders, or hands and you welcomed the sensation like an old friend.

Eventually, time would pass from mere hours to days and throughout it all, you continued to stay where you were- always making sure to watch over him with persisting hope.

Today marked the 15th day since his admission in the Foundation’s infirmary ward. His fresh bandages still wrapped around the half of his face and throat. His assistive oxygenation was removed the week prior once his vitals stabilized within normal range.

By now, you stayed so much in the medical room that your responsibilities started to catch up as evident with the numerous phone calls and text messages alerting you from your pocket. You figured you’d answer a few and explain the circumstances surrounding you and your family.

That time, you stood by the window hoping to receive better signal. You were in the middle of arguing with a non-compliant employee that worked under your supervision, and through their whining in the speaker, you picked up the sheets shifting behind you.

On that cue, you turned around with supposed foolish hope but in clear daylight, there he was- stirring into consciousness, brows furrowing and scrunching as his eye slowly opened.

You never hung up on someone this fast before but you dropped whatever conversation you had and rushed over to Jotaro’s side, immediately reaching to grasp his hand. It took him a bit to adjust to the natural light, but he lolled his head to you and locked eye contact with you.

You exhaled a shaky breath. “Jotaro-ssi?” With a weak baritone voice, he croaked back your name with instant familiarity. Your eyes welled with new tears. Right then and there, he grunted as he struggled to prop himself upright. “W-What are you doing? You just woke up. You’re supposed to rest!”

At this point, you didn’t realize you started crying when you light-heartedly scolded him. You gripped his hand tight with frustration and relief, teardrops spilling onto your skin. He’s awake. Thank god he’s awake. “Do you know how much of an idiot you are?! I told you you shouldn’t jump into dangerous situations so recklessly! And now look at you! You should be taking your time and recover lying down and here you are forcing yourself to sit! You really are an idiot-”

“I missed you.”

Your heart skipped a beat and whatever ramble you had left trailed off into the thin air. Jotaro sat there patiently, watching you wistfully with hooded eyes. In your hand, he turned his palm upwards and interlocked his fingers with yours. He had that usual air of stoicism in his expression, but there was no mistaking the wet sheen glossing over his aquamarine eyes.

That was all it took for you to break into a sob as you gently wrapped your arms around him in a soft embrace. You felt him tuck his face against the crook of your neck, his tears pooling on your skin in silence. “Next time, tell me at least. Alright?”

“Mm…”

“Don’t scare me like that again, you hear?”

“I’m sorry…”

“You ass.”

---

It’s been 6 months since then and after the chaos had settled across the nation, the Kujos returned to their seaside villa, settling in for the time being to adjust to the new life after the time phenomenon.

Slowly but surely, every member of the family began to live their lives the way they wanted to- Jolyne would often leave the house to hang out with her best friend Ermes and potential boyfriend Anasui, one day bringing home a kid in baseball uniform named Emporio waiting to be adopted into the family, you returned to work to help the other agents in the Foundation, and Jotaro begun to resume teaching in university, choosing to take a break from field research to give him time to rest.

And considering the stress of the whole Stand ordeal they had dealt with since they were 17, you could get used to a mundane life like this.

The early morning sun beamed a warm orange, filtered through the curtains before it could touch both you and your husband. You opened your eyes to find yourself side-lying on his arm to face a still-sleeping Jotaro, tucked bare-chested underneath the sheets with his face mushed against the pillows

You huffed and snuggled closer, nuzzling to bury your nose on the crook of his neck. With a feather-light touch, you raised an index finger to gingerly trace the faded scar across his throat, the shallow dents across his collarbone, the scar on his left shoulder, and the one on his abdomen. One-by-one, you took the time to feel the skin of each in contrast to the rest. “You’ve been through so much…”

He stirred possibly from your tiny motions and soon enough, the arm you lied on curled in to pull you into his hold.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you looked up to see your husband glance at you with sleep-ridden eyes. You propped yourself on his chest and with your chin planted on your overlapped hands flat on his pecs, you whispered out a simple, intentionally-cute “Good morning~”

Jotaro smiled back. “Morning.”

“Break day?”

He nodded.

Life never felt so ordinary after what had happened but you could get used to this. Where every moment in this new era, they could live out the rest of their lives as a normal couple with a normal family.

And what’s a better way to start their new lives but with the domesticity of a newlywed pair.

Both you and Jotaro started the day accomplishing your morning routines- you in the bathroom washing up, he on the balcony to simply soak in the early morning sun. You made your way to the dining area where he stood by waiting for you with two steaming mugs of coffee in his hands. You took one, returned the favor with a chaste peck on his cheek, and went over to cook breakfast for the family.

On cue with the smell of bacon and eggs permeating throughout the house, two pairs of footsteps bounded down the stairs and barged into the area.

“Well good morning to you too Jolyne,” you glanced at her companion with a smile. “Emporio.”

“Going out again?” Jotaro said, glancing at the duo. “This early?”

“Ermes is gonna go shopping for the new line of clothes that got released yesterday. She invited me and Emporio over saying it’s going to be ‘her treat’, but I know she’s lying,” Jolyne said, picking up a toast from her plate and another to offer her adopted brother.

“Is that pink-haired guy going?”

“His name’s Anasui dad and no, he’s not going,” she puffed her chest. “It’s girl’s day out today.” You and Jotaro looked at the blond boy beside her. “He’s not tagging along. I’m just dropping off Emporio at the nearby bookstore on the way out.”

“And I can find my way back no problem,” Emporio said as the teenager slowly pulled him with her to the door. “I won’t take too long.”

Jotaro still had his doubts from where he was on his seat, but knowing your little girl was able to survive a life of imprisonment and was able to get around the harsh facility, you smiled at her. “Alright. Be back by 9!”

“I will!”

Once the duo were out of sight, you and Jotaro were left alone to themselves. “Nothing like seeing your kids all grown up, huh?” You said as you took a bite of your eggs. He hummed a sound of acknowledgment. “But that just means we have the day to ourselves.”

At that, your husband couldn’t help but smile.

And just as you said, the rest of today consisted of simply staying indoors and “hanging-out” with each other in a life of old-couple domesticity. You cooked the meals and he washed the dishes. You did the laundry and he helped in folding them. You dusted the shelves and he vacuumed the floors. You picked today’s playlist to listen while doing chores and he chose what movie to watch.

Then there were instances in-between chores where either of you can’t help but hover close to one another, seeking each other’s touch and affections. May it be when you’re cooking and Jotaro passes by stealing a piece of sliced vegetable, you sneaking behind to pat his ass when he’s drying the plates, him momentarily resting his chin on your head as you wait for the washing machine to finish, him offering you a glass of water in the middle of dusting, or ending up in a never-ending banter over genres of media.

By the time they finished everything, including the short time freshening up, the afternoon began its transition to night as the skies changed its hue from blue to orange.

You shared one look with your husband and with one wistful stare, he rose a hand to you and you held it. With no worries plaguing your mind, you and Jotaro slowly walked down the stairs to the coast, hand-in-hand. A gentle breeze blew a strand of hair across your face and before you could, he tucked it behind your ear.

Both of you walked across the sand until you stopped a few meters away from the gentle waves.

Jotaro took the initiative to break apart from you, only to step behind and engulf your body with his long coat with his hands still in its pockets. You smiled and leaned back against his chest, closing your eyes as you do so.

For a few minutes, the couple simply stood by, basking in the ambiance- the refreshing sea breeze against your skin, the soothing crash of waves, the birds chirping above. The sea was your comfort place after all, and it was his too. Despite it being months later, you cherished every calm walk such as this as if it was the last.

You’ve never felt at peace this much. It was so nice.

“23 years…” You glanced up at Jotaro when he spoke. “For 23 years of us knowing each other, finally… Finally we can just live like this.”

You chuckled. “Makes it seem like we’ve just been married and this is our honeymoon even though it’s been years.”

“We’ve been fighting the world for most of our lives. Is it strange that until now, I’m still not used to this kind of ‘quiet’? As if I’m cautious that someone could appear at any moment?”

You shook your head, your gaze drifting to the horizon as you thought of your next words. “It’s not. It’ll take some time for us to adjust to this new normal. For all our habitual anxiety to disappear. Hell, it might not go away entirely.”

“But I can assure you this-”

You stepped out of his coat and turned to face him. From this angle, you looked at Jotaro with a smile bearing all the gooey fondness you had in your heart. Gingerly, you rose a hand to his face and with tender care, traced the vertical scar lining the right side of his face. From the top of his brow, down to his blind eye, until your fingers stopped at the bold line of his jaw.

Only then, your hand returned to cup his cheek with your thumb stroking the smooth line of his scar. “Whatever may happens next, I’ll be there with you. Work, people, lingering Stand users… I’ll stay by your side, hm?”

With hooded eyes, Jotaro leaned against your palm and laid his hand over yours. “I can’t say much to change your mind anyways.” He huffed. “You were always so stubborn.”

You chuckled. “You’re not wrong.”

Getting on to your tiptoes, you planted a soft kiss over his cheek, nose, and his lips last, to which you lingered on for a second longer. Pulling away, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face on his chest.

“Our lives are finally ours, starlight.”

You closed your eyes as you felt him tuck his chin on top of you, an arm wrapping around your waist, and a hand caressing the back of your head.

“Then let’s live them together, sunshine.”

[sunderingstars]

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHARACTER STORY & BRUGHEL POISSON ⌝

sampo analysis m.list

— what the stars reveal: interpretative analysis, elation!sampo

— word count: 2.4k

— overview: (as of 2.5) an assessment of sampo’s character stories and his identity as madam brughel poisson. (yippee !! it’s madam poisson time !!)

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ CHARACTER DETAILS ⌝

First, I want to note his description as “silver tongued.” It seems to serve a dual meaning — “silver tongued” references eloquence and persuasion, but also brings to mind “tongued,” which is a word often associated with snakes and serpents (think “forked tongue” and the history of snakes as persuasive and temptatious literary figures). This further cements Sampo’s connection to snakes and the deception often associated with them.

We have some more obvious information — i.e. that’s he’s always around when there’s profit to be made — but it’s also notable how his information network is in and of itself a form of snare or “trap.” Similar to the name of his bonus ability (which is literally “Trap”), Sampo is skilled at setting up the exact circumstances needed to lure people in, to make them need and be dependent on him. As such, his “customers” enjoy (or are perhaps afflicted by) a dual relationship: one where they get what they need, but are also subject to Sampo’s duplicitous nature and the danger of being deceived. Coupled with the next line that mentions Sampo’s penchant for turning “customers” into “commodities,” there is a distinct aura of dehumanization that occurs, the treating of clients not as people but as potential profit. 

Personally, I feel this may mirror his potential relationship with Aha. If he is Aha or has an interconnected relationship with Them, this deception could be a direct result of Their existence; the constant dehumanization of others for the “profit” of the joke. If Sampo is an Emanator or other such high status, it could be that his own treatment of others mirrors the way Aha treats/has treated him. It is possible that Aha’s chaotic and powerful nature made Them difficult for Sampo to refuse when offered/seeking help, and now Sampo is part of a sort of cycle — one where he is treated and dehumanized for the “profit” of a joke, then (either as part of his personality or an unwilling byproduct of Elation), turns that commodification onto others.

My main takeaway is the specific phrase “not necessarily a good thing.” This is a phrase I often associate with Emanator and otherwise non-Aeonic theories; the idea that Sampo is “favored” in some way by Aha, but that attention is not a good thing. After all, Aha is known to often be callous and cruel in Their jokes, and if Sampo has ever been the butt of them… well… suffice to say that wouldn’t be very fun for him. I feel like this phrase may be holding up a mirror to Sampo’s own relationship with Aha, although that might also be a stretch.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ PART ONE ⌝

Before diving into the story proper, I want to address the name itself — Brughel Poisson. From what I could find, Brughel isn’t even a name that exists (which is very fitting). Instead, the closest name I could find is “Bruegel,” which means “small village” in Dutch. I feel like this is in line with Sampo’s character and Madam Poisson’s position as an alias; it fits nicely into the “uncanny valley” territory of a name that is close to an already-exisitng one, but is just different enough to not be real. Additionally, “Poisson” is only one letter away from “poison,” which further associates him with snakes and venom. The name itself means “fish” in French, which may also link to Sampo’s name meaning “water rapids” in Finnish. Overall, the name symbolizes two main things: the “fakeness” of the identity, and the running snake motif. Just like Brughel Poisson doesn’t technically exist, so too does the name not “technically exist.”

Now, here are some things we can gather from Part One:

Brughel Poisson, Sampo’s alias, is positioning herself as a reporter from the “Crystal Daily.” As far as I am aware, this news organization does not exist either.

Sampo is aware of and directly interacts with the “Dark-Blue Scam Victims’ Association” as Brughel. 

Not only that, but he directly starts a conversation about himself under the guise of an interview, and lets the “interviewee” vent their frustration until he catches the information he needs.

Sampo is, as always, very skilled at directing the conversation where he wants it to go, seeming to make up details like being interested in social justice causes completely in the moment and still managing to sell the act.

Throughout the “interview,” Brughel takes the other person along a winding series of questions, knowing exactly when to let them rant and when to step in to ask questions. It is, to put it simply, masterful trolling. Not only is Sampo finding out information he’s interested in, but he’s basically playing one big joke on the unsuspecting “interviewee.” This very much links back to the “silver tongued” aspect of Sampo’s character. Brughel and Sampo are identities interchanged efficiently and effortlessly. Most likely, Sampo has been doing this for a long time.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ PART TWO ⌝

My main takeaway from Part Two is how Sampo and Brughel are not only so effortlessly interchanged, but how any given role is interchanged for another just as flawlessly. Brughel’s position is almost a complete 180 from the last part, going from an enthusiastic journalist to a straight-laced officer. There is no prose or identifying marks beyond dialogue — all we have to go off of is the spoken word. Even though we can’t tell how much Brughel has changed her appearance since the last time, we can tell that the tone of the dialogue is completely different. Despite Brughel being “faceless” in a sense, she gives off the strong aura of a guard, talking in shorter and more clipped sentences than her journalistic persona. She is able to put up such a convincing facade that even her slip-up of saying “expensive” instead of “valuable” goes unnoticed, and she is able to successfully answer the private’s doubtful questions with answers that convince them to go on leave. 

Again, we see how Sampo is able to answer questions on the fly, often making up details as he goes that sound so rock-solid most people barely question them. I feel like these stories just put me in awe of how in the world he does it. Even with a greater power like Elation potentially aiding him, there’s so many moving parts that come into play when impersonating someone who doesn’t even exist. He’s basically making up entire personalities on the fly and executing them flawlessly. It also shows how quickly he is able to change personas. If he’s Brughel, after all, who else might he be? Who else might we have come across that looks slightly familiar yet different? If something this complicated is all a game to him, just a means of “profit,” then what is he capable of when he gets serious?

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ PART THREE ⌝

This is the first part of the story where we get a perspective that doesn’t include Brughel directly. Instead, we spectate as two would-be thieves realize they’ve been screwed over by Madam Poisson. Piecing together the other stories, they seem to follow a narrative arc — Brughel hears about the spice factory, plans to steal from the 3rd Arsenal, then hires the people in this part to attempt a robbery on the spice factory as a diversion, allowing Sampo to slip into the 3rd Arsenal unnoticed. (At least, that’s my interpretation.) Again, there’s so many moving parts here, yet Sampo seems to have them all clearly sorted out in his mind. 

There’s also a narrative distance created between us (the reader) and Sampo/Brughel — in the other parts, Brughel was directly involved in the events taking place. We could see her speaking and read what she was saying. However, we now see her from an outside perspective, as well as the sheer anger and confusion that comes from the thieves realizing they’ve been set up. In my opinion, this is a really cool way to show the impact of the real heist — Sampo raiding the 3rd Arsenal — by placing us in the same position as everyone else. We aren’t “in” on the joke anymore, just spectating like everyone else. Just like the thieves and the guards, our attention is pulled towards the spice factory rather than the real scene of the crime, leaving Sampo the only one who truly knows what happened there. (It’s also a bit self-aware, as if Sampo is intentionally making the decision to turn the audience’s heads away as well.)

Again, it’s just flawless. Even though the thieves eventually find out they’ve been duped, it was all part of the plan. Everything still works out for Sampo — by the time anyone realizes what’s been going on, it’s too late. And, as we see in the next part, he even gets away with it too.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ PART FOUR ⌝

The last part of Sampo’s character story takes place after the Silvermane Guards have caught on to something suspicious going on. The conversation Madam Poisson has with the guard that comes by her place is very telling — once again, she is able to deflect any questions with ease, putting on the air of a worried and confused citizen. She even invites the guard inside to look for the wigs — something that seems very bold with the situation she’s in. However, everything still goes smoothly, and on top of that she gains enough trust from the guard to figure out what happened (although she likely already knew anyways). It’s even a bit of a reveal on the audience’s part; despite knowing Poisson is the common thread among all these stories, we only get her name at the very end — if not for that, it would be easy to mistake her for a new character since she acts so different from the other stories.

However, there is something slightly off to me. When the guard is asking Madam Poisson about the wigs, they seem very strict, even saying “Refusal to submit may result in serious consequences…”. However, as soon as Poisson invites the guard inside, they seem to do a 180, saying “… that won’t be necessary. I’m sure you have nothing to hide.” While this could be Sampo’s disguise working incredibly well, the change seems just abrupt enough for me to be suspicious. After all, if the Guards are so stringent on finding wigs, why wouldn’t they be willing to look inside themselves? This could be because they don’t have the proper warrants (which Sampo knows and exploits), or the guard is personally too shy to be put on the spot like that (which Sampo knows and exploits), or — and this is getting more into theory territory — it could be that Sampo is able to subtly distort people’s perceptions of him. He doesn’t need much, just enough to shift that guard over the line of “suspicious” to “probably has nothing to hide.” Either way, Sampo/Madam Poisson gets away with everything, at least for now. 

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ WIGS ⌝

Before I give my overall thoughts, I want to briefly address the wig situation. In Part Four, Poisson says “As you can see, my hair is great,” drawing direct attention to something you’d think she’d want to divert from. While this could be a case of master gaslighting (leading with the assumption “as you can see”), my theory is that there are no wigs to begin with. The reason Poisson wasn’t suspected is because Sampo can most likely physically change into different forms. We’ve already seen physical transformation with other Masked Fools like Sparkle, and if Sampo is operating in the higher echelon of Elation, there’s a good chance he can do the same even without his mask. 

It would explain why the guard says the male thief “changes appearance often” rather than saying something like “assumes this identity often” — there’s the implication that it isn’t just two identities Sampo is switching between, but rather a multitude of different faces under similar names. This means that his impersonation as a reporter, human resources officer, and regular citizen may have slight alterations that makes them difficult to tell apart, making it even more difficult for the Guards to pin down who exactly the thief is. Clearly, she would have to look different enough from Sampo to avoid being caught. This may also be why she is so confident in inviting the guard in — she knows there aren’t any wigs in the house because she doesn’t need to use them. Additionally, her drawing attention to her hair would be a point in her favor, since the guard would be able to see she wasn’t wearing a wig.

I would say this is probably the strongest evidence for a theory that Sampo can shapeshift. It isn’t entirely confirmed, but I think it still has a good chance since we’ve seen it from other Masked Fools in canon.

✩ ‧₊˚ ⌞ OVERALL THOUGHTS ⌝

Overall, I find these character stories to be perfectly emblematic of Sampo — persuasive, slippery, and mysterious. It’s important that we don’t get a story about Sampo directly, but rather the personas he takes on when trying to reach an ulterior goal. These stories haven’t really shown us Sampo, but rather kept us at arm’s length. Unlike other character stories, we’re still not sure what he’s truly capable of or even who he is, what he likes beyond profit, or what his deeper goals or motivations are. We’re placed in the same situation as everyone else, looking from the outside in. We’re not even given prose or narration, only dialogue. In a self-aware sense, it’s almost like he’s trying to hide from us directly. The stories are sprinkled with implications and hints, but it’s always something we as the reader have to piece together before getting answers. Perhaps that’s part of the game to him — making everyone wonder, including us. 

It also shows that he has a penchant for switching faces and identities. This is something that Aha is directly stated to do, and whether Sampo is Aha Themself or a different higher entity of Elation, it makes sense that he would also effortlessly assume different identities for his own goals. Unlike Sparkle, he is able to do this without a mask, potentially speaking to a greater power that allows him to do so. Again: if this is what he can do without the mask… just what can he do with it?

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴ thank you for reading to the end!

☆━━━━━ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊☾ ◯ ☽₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ━━━━━━☆

© analysis by sunderingstars. do not copy, repost, translate, modify, or claim my work as your own.

[mitochondriaandbunnies]

Miami Vice S1E22: Evan

An estranged friend forces Sonny to confront a long buried secret.

Perhaps out of a fear of repeating myself-- I've said a lot about Evan, both in analysis and in fic-- I got a little stuck on this one, this time around. I guess I don't want to seem like a broken record, or like I'm overstating the importance of a single episode, but Evan is as much a distillation of everything that Miami Vice "is" as anything-- it's bleak, it's heartfelt, it's beautiful, it cuts to the heart of Sonny's inability to love himself, and it 's deeply, heartbreakingly queer.

It absolutely should have been the Season One finale. Lombard is a good episode, but it's not Evan good. On top of that, the last few episodes have all had a running undercurrent asking-- "hey-- what is *normal*, here, especially for Sonny? What does it mean to be vulnerable, to share your life and your secrets with someone? What do we mean when we say 'partner?'" that feels like it reaches its climax with Evan. And even further, Evan's whispered portent at the end of the episode-- that he made his choice, that Mike Orgel made his choice, and that now it's Sonny's turn to make his choice-- sets up much of the rest of the series thematically. The series finale is Sonny's answer: in the end, he chooses to step away instead of letting himself be destroyed like his friends.

BUT. I don't really think Network Television in the 80's really wanted the season for their very expensive and incredibly popular show to end on Sonny's Repressed Gay Trauma, because then audiences would've had to sit with that all summer, and frankly I suspect more people might have had an Aha Moment about Sonny's sexuality if that had been the case. So instead they ended S1 on Charming Mobster Dennis Farina, which is fine, but not quite as thematically powerful.

So what to say about Evan that I haven't said already? The episode opens with Evan selling guns; to demonstrate the power of the weapons, he shoots the hell out of a bunch of mannequins. I hadn't recalled that before he did this, he kissed the mannequins around their middles. It's super performative masculinity-- Evan is terrified of not being seen as a "real man," so his only options are, essentially, violence and (straight) sexuality, both of which he enacts on the mannequins. It's unsettling to the the point that one of Guzman's goons keeps making a face like "do we. Do we have to buy guns from him," and it signals to the audience that something is Not Right with this man.

Because this is an episode about gay men and what it means to be a man and how man treat one another, we get an interesting little moment where Larry is leaning over Stan's shoulder and reviewing case files with him. Stan seems irritated at the lack of personal space, and tells him to go look over files on his own desk. It's a bit of a throwaway gag, but it's also the kind of gentle, thoughtless repudiation of closeness that makes intimacy of any kind difficult between men of any sexual orientation. When Sonny talks about the way he and Evan and Mike Orgel used to talk to and tease one another before Mike revealed he was gay, this is the kind of behavior he's referencing.

The scene where Sonny has to go undercover as a far right gun nut to get information from a neonazi is both disturbingly still relevant and disturbing from an in-universe perspective. Sonny, still too pretty even in fatigue pants and a government-issue cap, looks like an underwear model doing military cosplay; he almost seems younger, like putting on the trappings of his Vietnam days transported him back there. In order to convince the gun seller he's serious, he says he's done with the military because the military is full of "women, half-breeds, and homosexuals" (which he says like it's four words-- HO-MO-SECK-SHUALS), but he turns away while he's saying it, and his face radiates pain and fear. He is wildly uncomfortable in this persona; we know he doesn't believe these things, but more than that, you get the sense that he's genuinely concerned his disguise as a Grade-A American Heterosexual Tough Guy is not going to hold up under any serious scrutiny.

I have a lot of questions about this painting, presumably belonging to Mr. Unfriendly Drug Lord Guzman, of an emaciated man with a railing between his ass-cheeks. Like. Is that so on the nose that it circles back to mysterious again, or is it literally a painting of an ass railing in the Let's Talk About Gay Stuff episode?

Castillo is extra recalcitrant in this one-- he argues with the ATF agent and insists he'll bust whoever needs busting, and then shortly after is just like NO when Sonny says he cannot be involved in this case

The ATF agent refers to Evan as Sonny's "old playmate," which feels uh, pointed

Rico asks Gina a favor and she sighs and says he "always needs a favor;" she still seems a bit irritated from No One Lives Forever

Guzman's manservant lifts him out of the pool and dries him off and dresses him, so perhaps the painting isn't all that odd for him

When Evan tries to convince Guzman to back off of the deal with Sonny, Guzman is eating a plate of fruit in a bathrobe, the sea over his shoulder, bathed in pinks and blues. Evan, on the other hand, eats the true breakfast of champions-- a cigarette and whiskey-- and everything around him is grey and white.

Evan smiles completely genuinely when he sees Elvis, and Elvis makes no move to attack him, which makes me cry

Like. He and Sonny were such good friends that Sonny's alligator missed him

Just throw me in the bay and forget about me as the fish chew me to death, I guess

When Sonny refuses Evan, Evan says he'll happily take Rico instead, and that's when Sonny really starts getting angry-- it's one thing for Evan, who Sonny blames for the death of an old partner and friend, to put Sonny's life in danger, it's another thing altogether for him to casually suggest Rico could be another bit of collateral in their shared history

Thank you script writers for lines like "I wouldn't have had to pull Freed's jacket if you'd been straight with me" (that really is the issue here, isn't it, Rico? Sonny can't quite do that, can he!) and "we are involved... *pause* in an operation." The gay subtext in the gay text episode is logged and noted

Evan encourages Guzman to shoot them all, himself included, and casually tells Sonny and Rico that Guzman used to "shoot people just for being left-handed," which feels like a metaphor for.... something, some kind of... human difference that has been, historically, punished and marginalized... couldn't tell you what, though

Tubbs speaks French to Michelle-- do we ever hear him doing this again? Does Tubbs speak French for real, or is he just like, repeating something he heard on a perfume ad or something?

When Sonny comes in, looking all hangdog, and tells Tubbs they need to talk, Tubbs tells Michelle he wants a rain check-- Michelle's response is "I bet you would," which is very ambiguous-- it seems equally likely that she's telling him he's got no chance or that she straight up doesn't believe he wants the rain check because she's pretty sure Crockett's his ex

I've talked at length about the gas station scene, but the fact that Rico's response to Sonny's confession about Mike is "how did you handle it" rather than anything else-- the man knoooows half of Sonny's issues here are coming from his internalized homophobia and self-loathing

I don't think Evan has changed his clothes for three days?

Logistically, it makes no fucking sense for Sonny, Evan, and Mike Orgel to all be queer men, but the episode really doesn't do any work to make Sonny or Evan obviously heterosexual, either. It's very easy to read either Sonny or Evan's guilt and trauma as coming partially from their own identities, and the way they both talk about their bad reactions to Mike's coming out reinforces this. Evan's line, "I've found more ways to hang that rap on myself than you or the devil will ever know about" mirrors Sonny's earlier insistence that Rico is not his "priest" and that he doesn't have to "bare his soul" to him; Vice is not a show that frequently has its main characters suffering from religious guilt or trauma, so it seems very meaningful that both of them are bringing their despair back to the idea not just of guilt, but sin. And perhaps even more specifically than that, sin that they refuse to let anyone-- friend, priest, or devil-- see.

Gina and Trudy show up in regular police uniforms at Guzman's arrest, which I think is the only time we see them dressed like that in the entire series

Peter Gabriel's Biko initially seemed to me like a really weird choice for the end of the episode, given the specific milieu it was written in and for (South African apartheid and the police murder of an anti-apartheid activist), but upon this rewatch it dawned on me that what they were trying to do was, a bit clumsily, tie the two ideas together. Mike Orgel died because he was part of an oppressed minority group, and if you read Evan as a closeted queer man, he has followed after him (and warns Sonny-- potentially a third closeted queer man-- that he will also need to make a choice about how to lead his own life soon enough.) I don't necessarily love slotting in one marginalized group for another there, but it's a very 80's sentiment, I think, so I'll let it stand. I think it's meaningful that the lyric "you can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire" precedes Evan's warning to Sonny. Was Mike, then, the candle?

The episode ends with Sonny tenderly cradling Evan's head while Rico stands with his hand on his shoulder; he's allowed touch and intimacy with Rico (as he was at the gas station) that he could not have ever really had with Evan except under extremely extenuating circumstances and now death. Mike, Evan, and Sonny couldn't find a way to "deal with it," as Rico put it, but the implication is that maybe Sonny and Rico can.

[marko-level]

June

@a-harecords

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my January 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

It's Fine To Fake It 'Til You Make It ('Til It's True) by sunflouwerhabit / @sunflouwerhabit (150k)

Harry Styles @HarryStyles_KE hi again! so, i wanted to apologize one more time for the whole “helogogjs good gksdjid” thing, and also say that i didn’t just accidentally open your DM’s when i wasn’t paying attention earlier. i sort of had a question about a tweet you posted yesterday? like. the whole “rent a boyfriend” thing? is that something you were serious about? and if so, how does one come to hire you to be their boyfriend? i’m, um, asking for a friend

*****

Harry dreads an impending visit to his hometown, where he’ll be forced to reunite with a newly engaged ex-boyfriend, a childhood best friend turned near stranger, and a family who never understood just how desperately he needed to leave.

In the midst of it all, a ludicrous Twitter proposition brings him to Louis.

(Almost) Exes-to-Lovers (Series) by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense (93k)

Been Waitin' (After Weekend After Weekend After) (3k) Louis and Harry meet at a laundromat. Part 1 of (Almost) Exes-to-Lovers When the Trouble Comes (89k) The Queens Trafficking case is the biggest one of Louis’ FBI career so far; eleven reported missing girls all disappeared under a similar set of circumstances. Louis has done everything he can to try and solve this case over the last nine months… while also absolutely ruining his marriage. Harry has been co-host of Banter at Breakfast for five years, and finally has the opportunity to create his own radio show with the network. Unfortunately, it comes at a time where Harry’s thoughts are consumed with his impending divorce from his (caring, loving, infuriatingly thoughtful) husband of eight years. Harry and Louis have both been willing to lose themselves in their work… but are they willing to lose each other? * Or a story of (almost) exes-to-lovers. Part 2 of (Almost) Exes-to-Lovers

And Down the Long and Silent Street by whimsicule (86k)

The year is 1881 and if you’re alone in this world you might as well be dead, because starving dogs have no mercy.

Or: Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

Baby Steal My Heart Away by Snowy38 (61k)

Louis headed into the hall, seeing the Moses basket right away.

"Wah-wah-wahhh!"

Was that...

Fuck.

It was. It was a baby! A loudly crying, clearly unhappy-actually properly distressed baby. It was already red in the face and--

Why was there a baby?

He looked up and around, palm flattening to his forehead to push his scruffy hair away from his clammy skin, checking he wasn't being punked.

Light Me Up, Put Me on Top by CuckooTrooke / @larrydoinglaundry (24k)

Harry takes Louis back to Northern Europe to experience his first Nordic Christmas in their beloved cabin, surrounded by nothing but peace and snow. So much snow.

Short "spin-off" to 'Love is a word, you gave it a name' universe. Takes place after the second part of the main story, but before the final epilogue.

Part 3 of love is a word, you gave it a name

No One Like You by myownspark (19k)

Dear Niall,

I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.