starmark | IC Inbox | prismatica

He’ll like that. He’s missed it.

[ He says it in much the same way ashe’s saying everything else, breathless and interrupted by little gasps as both of them move about in the way that things that are alive usually do and Jotaro’s finger moves inside him in new, mostly-accidental ways. Maybe a little softer. Hierophant’s tendril coils down Jotaro’s arm to his hand and down his hand to his finger, pressed shadow-flat against his skin as he moves the last few inches to keep himself from stretching Kakyoin at a pace faster than the one Jotaro intends on. Even without the extra stretch his skin is cool to the touch compared to Jotaro’s warm. Kakyoin tenses slightly at the change in temperature, then relaxes again as Hierophant starts to release a slick fluid, mostly transparent with a slight green tint.

With that, it’s more comfortable to move. To push back greedily onto Jotaro’s finger. Once he’s used to the sensation he renews his own touching, feeling out Jotaro’s shape through his boxers before stroking him through them. ]

It’s- [ He swallows, trying again. Because god knows why Jotaro likes it when he talks about these things but he apparently does, and so he’ll try for as long as he wants. ] -you’re going to be inside me before long, aren’t you? [ 10/10 for effort, kind of a generic result. He’ll try again later. ] You should tell me how long you've been thinking about this. I told you before, didn’t I? So it’s only fair.

Nori...

[He figures out what Kakyoin is doing a little too late; not fast enough to keep his face from heating all the way to his ears as the tantalizingly dirty talk washes over him like a wave. Kakyoin's got his number, is what it means, and that's always a dangerous position to be in, but the truth is he wants that too. He's never minded being pushed around a little in bed, never objected any more than superficially to being teased by his partners. Kakyoin's playing to something he knows he's into, deliberately, and he's taking the bait without question, hook, line, and sinker.

He swallows hard, eyes dark with heat and want, and thinks idly of having Hierophant around his shoulders, crisscrossing his limbs, around his neck, between his muscle fibers. It makes him shiver; with those thoughts on his mind, he's even more acutely aware of the cool, pliant tendril winding around near his fingers, clever and invasive and hot.]

A-All the time. All the time, I think about it.

[Of course, even his wildest imaginings never came up with the sight of this dress, so that's a point in reality's favor, after all.]

I always think about your face. The look on your face, when you take it all and it hits you, when it...

[He shivers, shudders. It's magnificent.]

When it's better than anything else. That's what I think about. The look on your face. Making you look like that. Making you crazy.

'Better than anything else.' [ He leans forward as he speaks until he ends the sentence at Jotaro's lips. He can't look down, not like this, but with most of the obstacles out of the way he doesn't need to see to be able to push his fingers down past the waistband of Jotaro's boxers. He rests them against his dick, touching delicately but no longer moving. ]

I think this is the part where I express scepticism about that, just to be difficult.

[ The way he catches Jotaro's lower lip between his teeth as he says that is absolutely deliberate, but he doesn't quite mean to bite down as hard as he does. It's not enough to break the skin, but it's hard enough that he has to press a few light almost-apologetic kisses against it before continuing. ]

You'll sound like a dick later, gloating about being right all along, if I don't.

[The noise he makes when Kakyoin bites too hard is — embarrassing, to say the least, if he were really in any sort of position to be embarrassed about anything, which he isn't. Still, it's noticeably unlike him, a strangled high-pitched whine that makes him jump and stutter his breath, and to anyone who didn't have their hand up against his dick, it might sound like a reaction of surprise or pain.

It isn't. His eyes are a little glassy now, some of his composure fled, and he's fumbling to try to hold on to a coherent thought long enough to express it, that it isn't about the pain so much as it is just that — that Kakyoin did it at all, and it was okay.]

Do that again.

[The world never feels quite right when things are too perfect, too soft. He knows better than to think the real world is like that. A little sting reminds him that he's real. It's like adding acid to a heavy, sweet dish; the edge is what makes it all the better.

Belatedly, he realizes that in his preoccupation, his fingers had stilled inside Kakyoin. That just won't do; he starts to move them again, spreading and closing them in rhythm because it's fast becoming clear that neither one of them is going to be able to wait much longer.]

Fuck...like you don't make me crazy, too...

[ For a split second he's not quite sure what that noise means. Just for a split second, and he's immediately ready to stop. Ready to stop and apologise and make sure he hasn't actually hurt Jotaro and-

-and then his sense of touch catches up with him and oh. Oh. That wasn't a pain noise. Not just a pain noise, anyway. And Star is still out, and Star would never hurt him but he wouldn't allow him to hurt Jotaro, either. Not in the wrong sort of way. Which would make that. The right sort of way, probably.

So he does it again. A few more light, soft kisses before he bites down instead of just allowing his teeth to graze against Jotaro's lower lip. It's more carefully controlled this time, a smoother transition from a scrape of teeth to pressure to almost too much pressure. Deliberate and measured, which is something of a challenge once Jotaro's fingers start moving again.

He manages not to bite down too hard, but the concentration expended there means that every other reaction is completely devoid of the careful control he likes to exert over himself. He squeezes Jotaro's legs tightly between his own, fingers curling in the cloth of his boxers. The noise is muted by the lip between his teeth, but the air whistles as it escapes the gap between skin and teeth and when he does release Jotaro's lip his breath is thick and gasping. ]

I want- [ He finally pulls down the boxers as he speaks, just in case he doesn't manage to get the message across clearly enough. Insurance against any demands that he clarify what he means. ] -Jotaro, I want to- I'm ready.

...Y-Yeah. Yeah, let...let Star. He'll. Star, c'mon.

[Dazed and disoriented, Jotaro slumps back a little against the couch, aching with desire even as he pants and tries to catch his bearings; his fingers slip easily out of Kakyoin with a wet noise that makes a shiver run down his spine, and his boxers will simply have to pay the price of that for the time being. Like Kakyoin said, it'll go away once Hierophant does, so it'll be fine in the end.

In the meantime, Star comes over as his master bids, stepping in behind Kakyoin and reaching down to hook his massive hands underneath Kakyoin's thighs; with impossible ease, he simply lifts Kakyoin straight up, hovering him a foot or two over Jotaro while Jotaro moves around beneath him, finding something soft to sit on and shucking off his pants and generally getting ready to accept Kakyoin into his lap again.]

Let him back down, Star. Easy.

[He opens his arms, and reaches for him, and helps to guide Kakyoin back down into his lap, groaning softly as settling him in makes his dick bump up against the cleft of his ass, hidden beneath the drape of his haphazard dress.]

[ As Star lifts him, he swallows. Tilts his head back to look at him and his green diamond stick-on earrings and his hair swirling about like he's moving through water instead of air, a few locks held in place by little stars. He looks at Star, rather than Jotaro, as Jotaro gets himself into place. Lets himself calm a little, because there's a difference between being the kind of worked up that Jotaro's interested in seeing and just being a coil of raw nerves. It's only when Star lowers him back down that he lets his head roll forward to look at Jotaro again. At Hierophant, still wrapped around his shoulders and then coiled down one arm.

There because for the first time he recalls he hasn't used Hierophant for- that.

Which means he can't be certain he's ready. Oh, he can trust that Jotaro wouldn't hurt him. But that's trust. That's not the same as careful measurement.

He swallows again when Star rests him in Jotaro's lap and he can feel Jotaro's dick against him. It's not a deliberate tease, the first few false starts at lowering himself down onto it before letting it slide up against the cleft of his ass instead. It's just- perhaps a little more intimidating than he thought it would be. ]

Jotaro- [ He begins, and he's not quite sure how to finish that sentence. Because the least embarrassing way he can think of to do so is 'please reassure me by telling me the exact radius of your dick' and it just goes downhill from there. He makes another attempt, lowering himself until Jotaro's dick is pressed against him, and then reaches for Jotaro's hand and grabs at it. Which is the most humiliating way to ask for reassurance but probably also the most efficient way to get it. ] -I, -please.

Oh —

[He doesn't get it, at first, the way that Kakyoin fumbles for his hand. In his defense, the rest of him is awfully distracting, so he can probably be forgiven for being preoccupied with the rest of him before enough brain power freed up to put two and two together on the implication.

When he figures it out, though, he blushes, and this time it isn't from arousal so much as it is just being thoroughly charmed, and focuses long enough to carefully fit their fingers together, slotting Kakyoin's into the spaces between his own.

They're both in scattered states of undress, seconds away from sex, and holding hands somehow still feels like the most intimate, private thing they've done yet.]

Hey. Hey, shhh. C'mere.

[He sits up a little, holding his hand, and brings his mouth softly against Kakyoin's.]

Star's got you. So just — it's okay. Slow and easy. Yeah?

[As if for emphasis, Star settles down into a kneeling position further down behind Kakyoin, carefully wrapping his hands around his hips again in support.]

We've got you. S'okay.

[ Rejection isn’t coming. He knows that. Jotaro has a greater tolerance than he does for his own weakness. He catches himself bracing for it anyway. For rejection or concern or pity or any of the hundred thousand kinds of support he doesn’t want instead of the one he does.

Jotaro’s better at figuring out his bullshit than he gives himself credit for. A little heavy handed, maybe (did he just shush him???). But good at working out what’s being asked of him and only too eager to give it. ]

Don’t- [ It’s not nervousness that interrupts him this time, but his breath stuttering on the hard ‘t’ sound. He squeezes Jotaro’s hand, lowering himself down onto him until he feels himself start to stretch again. And it isn’t materially different from using Hierophant to prepare himself, not really, but he’s not about to let go of Jotaro’s hand now. The breath catches between his mouth and Jotaro’s, building pressure until it forces itself out in a sound too loud to be a sigh and too soft to be a moan. ] -don’t shush me.

[ It’s fake-irritated. Playful, which is easier to express than feeling safe. ]

You don’t really want me to be quiet, do you?

[He snorts a little, a breathy half-laugh, and catches himself squeezing Kakyoin's hand a little more tightly as he starts to move and all of a sudden it's taking every ounce of his self-control to keep himself still, to not just grab him and buck up into him too fast. Focusing on the humor helps a little. It's a distraction. So is trying to remember how his mouth works. How to shape words instead of just kissing him and never stopping.]

Nope. Want you to be okay, though.

[His eyes are half-lidded. It's because he's having to work hard even to keep them open, when instinct says to close them and just feel.]

And you're always okay when you've got something to be pissed off about. Brat.

You can’t be- ah-

[ Whatever it was he was trying to say, it dissolves quickly into a short moan followed by a long quiet whine. It’s not deliberately teasing, the way that he lowers himself down slowly, though he wouldn’t be doing much different if it were.

He didn’t think he’d be this nervous, in truth. It feels like he shouldn’t be. He’s done this before and if he did fuck up then Adrian didn’t see fit to mention it. In part, he’s nervous because he didn’t have Hierophant do the whole job of preparing him. It feels stupid to be worried about it hurting after everything they’ve both endured. But he’s good at worrying. He’s good at worrying and- ]

Ah!

[ -Most of the way down, he very abruptly stops being good at worrying. He stops being good at just about everything other than squeezing Jotaro’s hand, which he proves to be very, very good at. In fact, just to demonstrate how good he is at it his other hand goes up to Star’s hand at his hip, pressing down against it as he pushes his way up and lets himself sink again a little further each time, like it might just be too much if he sinks all the way down at once. His gangly fingers clutch at one of Star’s massive ones. Every now and then he opens his mouth to try again, to finish what he was going to say, and every time some noise comes out instead. ]

-you- [ He breathes in deeply after one whole word, and about half that air comes out as squeaks. ] -can’t be a dick when you’re inside me. [ It takes a few tries but he finally manages to say it. It sounds stupid once the words are out, but he’s doing his best. That’s what dirty talk is meant to be, right? Just updating people on the location of their cock. ] That’s just rude.

[So, Kakyoin's trying to kill him, basically.

For all his teasing and bantering, Jotaro somehow never actually put two and two together to realize that when he said he wanted Kakyoin to make noise, this was the unfathomably sexy reward he was going to wind up getting. It's enough to make every other thought in his mind dissipate in a matter of moments; he doesn't blink and he sure as hell doesn't breathe, too wrapped up in the sight of Kakyoin sinking down and the sound of him whimpering and the heat of him slowly, slowly shifting down around him.

His mouth is hanging open, probably. He must look so stupid, like he's just been slapped with a fish. He doesn't care about how his expression looks. He barely cares about the figurative fish.

It's just that it's so hot, and so slick, and if it feels this good for him then he can only hope it's equally so for Kakyoin, but it probably is, or at least it will be once he's adjusted enough and Jotaro can really start focusing on making him feel good.

Kakyoin had a list, he reminds himself after a moment, nebulously. And what's the point of even having one, if not for a moment like this.]

I can be nice.

[He could be anything, right now. Kakyoin could ask him for all three of the moons and he'd tear them down out of the sky, right now.]

You know you're beautiful, right...?

[ There must be millions of words in the chimera of a language that the moons make everyone speak. Tens of millions, maybe hundreds. The combined total of every language spoken by every person brought here. The Japanese language alone has five hundred thousand. And there's one, one, that could possibly get his attention right now.

His eyes are closed as he feels his weight shift from being supported by his legs against the floor to being supported by his ass against Jotaro's hips. His mouth is slightly open, letting out what feels like the very last of the air inside him and leaving him simultaneously completely empty and just slightly less than uncomfortably filled.

And then Jotaro says that.

His head rolls forward slightly and his death-grip on Jotaro and Star's hands loosens just a little. It's only after a second or so that he looks up again, eyes heavy and dark but open, what should be a small, delicate smile on someone with a normal-sized mouth taking up entirely too much of his face. He starts to say something and it takes him a moment too long to realise that he's having difficulties because he's biting down on his lower lip and another moment too long to figure out that the solution is to stop doing that. ]

I know. [ He manages eventually, voice just slightly strained, and he doesn't really care anymore about feeling stupid. Because he doesn't anymore. Stupid things are only stupid if they don't work, and Jotaro thinking he's beautiful- that means he's succeeded. ] I figured it out a while ago.

Yeah...yeah.

[He's torn in two directions for a moment, with one half of him wanting desperately to let his control snap and buck up into the maddening heat of Kakyoin's body, but the other half tempted by the prospect of simply going boneless for a minute and relaxing into the sensation the way he's waiting for Kakyoin to do. It's far less of an adjustment for him than it is for Kakyoin, of course, but there's part of him that still wants to luxuriate in it anyway, to just hold him and feel him and lose himself in the reality that this is really, actually happening.

In one — more than one, come to think of it — awful, failed timeline, Jotaro Kujo and Noriaki Kakyoin never got to do this. They'd wanted it. They'd envisioned it. And one or both of them had died before they ever made it to this.

Beautiful doesn't even come close to how Kakyoin looks right now, smiling and close to overwhelmed. There are too many things in the world that can make Kakyoin rage and sulk and cry, but only he gets to make him look like this.

Damn right he's going to gloat about it.]

I know what you said you wanted. But...let me move you first.

[The hand that isn't caught up in Kakyoin's shifts, sliding beneath the drape of his dress to stroke light circles against his thigh.]

Let me...make sure it feels good. Please...

It isn’t your birthday, you know.

[ Really, it’s a miracle that he manages to get a full sentence out. A pointless sentence, because Star is Jotaro is Star and he wouldn’t really deny either of them.

Hierophant is still coiled down Jotaro’s arm, the one whose hand is in his. It moves, twisting around their joined hands. ]

I don’t- I’ll be mad if you let go. [ He says, because ‘I’ll be mad’ sounds less weak to him than ‘I don’t want you to stop holding my hand’. He strokes his thumb over Star’s giant hand. ] You can do it as long as you don’t let go.

It isn't yours either.

[He sits up a little, trying not to jostle Kakyoin until he's better able to wrap an arm around him, taking over Star's job of keeping him balanced and bringing himself up flush against Kakyoin's body while he's at it. It means he can't appreciate the view as easily anymore, not with the way his head naturally tucks into the side of Kakyoin's neck when they come together, but there are other benefits. He'll be able to feel the reactions he gets, instead of seeing them, and that's practically just as good.

He doesn't have the leverage to move outright, but it's a little too soon for that, anyway. What he does instead is starts to rock them both, shallow swaying motions that shift them just a little at first, just enough to be felt.]

When you're ready, put your hands on my shoulders.

[Ready for what, he's too breathless to specify, but it's not really something that can be specified, anyway. It's just Kakyoin's determination to make, when he's had enough and is greedy for more, but until then, the subtle friction is more than enough to preoccupy him.]

[ Hands, he says. Plural, and the sigh that escapes him when Jotaro begins to move the both of them sounds like it was going to be a complaint. He doesn’t want to let go. He wants to keep his fingers laced through Jotaro’s and to be told that he’s pretty until the nervousness fades.

(It won’t fade. Nervousness is infinite and he’ll just keep finding new things to fret over.)

So he decides that he isn’t ever going to be ready out of spite. He’ll just be knelt here in a dress with a dick inside him indefinitely. That’s fine. He’ll just be here, shuddering against Jotaro every now and then when the rocking and their breathing line up just right, breath coming out as a soft whine as his trembling thighs squeeze at Jotaro’s hips-

-he doesn’t last very long. But it is careful, the way Hierophant first loosens itself. The way his hand slips free of Jotaro’s finger by finger. His grip on Star’s fingers loosens bit by bit. It takes longer than it really should but he finally reaches up to rest his hands on Jotaro’s shoulders. ]

Hah...good thing I promised to fix your dress.

[The remark is idle, designed to be distracting, and so is the way his newly-freed hand sneaks between their bodies to pet Kakyoin's length through the drape of his bunched-up skirt. It's as much to be a brat as it is for the sake of the unusual stimulation, but he's tried similar things of his own, before — touching himself through silk and satin, experimenting with texture and temperature — and he's always liked it, so maybe Kakyoin will, too.

Regardless, it's all a pretext to keep him preoccupied while Jotaro rearranges them, getting his legs into position so that he'll have the leverage to actually raise his hips instead of just shifting his weight.

Unexpectedly, his voice drops to a whisper.]

This is what you've been waiting for...right...?

[As he says it, he gives his hips a little hitch, smooth but firm in a motion that lifts Kakyoin up a fraction and drops him back down again.]

[ Noriaki Kakyoin has a very low standard for 'embarrassingly loud'. It describes just about anything audible by the human ear. Not even that, now, because he has to worry about both vampire ears and Star's incredible senses. And so to describe the noise that escapes his throat, half surprised yelp and half moan, as 'embarrassingly loud' would be a little like saying that he's currently somewhere in Jotaro's vicinity. He uses Jotaro's neck to cover his mouth, teeth pressing lightly into the skin and anchoring him in place there rather than biting.

He'd been prepared for one collection of sensation and received another entirely. Somehow it hadn't occurred to him that Jotaro's hand would glide over him through the silk, without any of the friction caused by skin on skin. That his hand would feel just slightly cooler, the differences between their resting temperatures lessened by the cloth. That the silk would drag just slightly with the movements of his hand, leaving the ghosts of touch behind even after the real thing was gone. None of that occurred to him.

He nods before he answers properly, top row of teeth pressing a little harder as his head moves. The pressure of breath passes after a moment then returns when Jotaro moves his hips. He curls his fingers in the shoulders of Jotaro's shirt and eventually, eventually dares to release his neck. He speaks in short, breathy sentences. The kind that can be interrupted without losing their meaning. ]

Yeah. That. This. I've been- been waiting. For you to want to look at me. Want to touch me. Want to be inside me.

M'sorry. Sorry I kept you waiting. It wasn't — wasn't that I didn't want you.

[Just saying it, just voicing the words aloud, leaves him feeling raw and bared open in his desire. But it's so easy to admit to when they're like this, when they're so close and so joined that words just slip out without the usual barriers that make him hold them back. It's so natural, so right, and he almost regrets that they hadn't grasped for this sooner but he can't, not altogether, because if they'd done it sooner than it wouldn't be this, just as it is, and there's no way that he could ever regret the way this moment feels.

But he's tracking Kakyoin's movements, gauging his reactions, and though he's taking his time with setting the pace, once he starts moving he never returns to fully sitting still. Even in the aftermath of the rise and fall of his hips, he settles them back into that previous rocking motion — friction without force. It's somewhat for Kakyoin's benefit, but secretly mostly for his own; being inside Kakyoin like this is addicting, maddening, and he couldn't stop himself now, not on his own. Not without Kakyoin asking him to.

And so the cadence starts to take shape: up, down, a circling grind. Up, down, a circling grind. Kakyoin had said he'd wanted a ride; slowly, slowly, the rhythm of it begins.]

I'll make it up to you...

You'd better.

[ It's rare that he can't even pretend to have any venom in his voice, but this is a rare occasion. He has other things to focus on. It's not an overwhelming pace, not by any means. It's steady, if unrelenting. It feels good. It just makes concentrating on things like petty grudges he just made up on the spot a little more difficult than they might otherwise be.

But that doesn't mean it's enough. He can still feel Star's presence behind him. Just his presence. Not his hands or his bread chest or. ]

I want Star back. Let him touch me.

Just a little longer —

[He's not jealous of his Stand. You can't get jealous of something that is, fundamentally, a part of yourself. It'd be like getting jealous of his leg, or his ear. Not possible. A non-thing.

But he wants to hold onto this a little longer anyway, and can't help but say so. This quiet fledgling pleasure growing between the two of them — he wants to memorize it a little more thoroughly first.

He closes his eyes, to do it. Focuses on the heat, the slide. Learns for the hundred millionth time the way that Kakyoin fits so snugly into his arms and moves with him when he moves.

It's only at length that he finally nods a little, letting his chin drop and his curling bangs fall over his eyes as he lets out a contented sigh — a punctuation mark at the end of his self-claimed interval of selfishness — and lets Star draw in close behind Kakyoin to pin him more thoroughly between them.]

Yeah. Go on, Star. Do what he says.

[Not that Star needs any prompting; the moment he's given implicit permission, his hands descend on Kakyoin's body, one pressing against his thigh while the other rests low on his abdomen, taking control of the way he rocks and bounces.]

Fuck-

[ It's unnecessarily decadent to be pressed between both of them like this. So much so that he almost complains even though he's the one wo asked for this - it's not his birthday, after all - but it's hard to bring himself to even jokingly suggest that this is wrong. It isn't. Jotaro is touching him and Star is touching him and

He's already just about boneless and it's a good job that Jotaro and Star are moving for him because there's not much strength in his legs right now. His arms seem to be doing okay, mind, if the tightness of his grip on Jotaro's shoulders is any indication. ]

You're both so good to me- [ The 'good' is untintentional, but he catches it as it leaves his mouth. Chooses to run with it, kissing against Jotaro's neck where he might have bitten a little more than he meant to earlier in his attempts to shut himself up. ] -because you love me, right? You wouldn't- wouldn't spoil me like this if you didn't.

You think — that this, this is spoiling you? We haven't, hah, even started...to spoil you...

[Because really, there's so much more they can do; even now they're just getting started, just finding their way before things really get going. There's still so much more sensation, so much more touch, and that too is the benefit of having Star with them, because four hands are definitely better than two, even if there's still a set that has to be preoccupied with keeping Kakyoin's rhythm steady.

One hand is all Star needs to lift and lower him; that's what the arm around Kakyoin's waist continues to do, supporting him easily as they move together in circling motions. The other leaves his thigh and darts inward, picking up Jotaro's previous ministrations of rubbing Kakyoin through the drape of his skirt; they're going to fix the dress afterward anyway, so they might as well make a delicious mess of it in the interim.

That's two hands. Then there's still Jotaro's to account for, one that goes skimming along the plane of Kakyoin's chest in search of one of the peaked nubs hidden beneath, and the other whose fingers curl around one of Hierophant's tendrils, guiding it up to his lips so that he can lave his tongue against it.

It's a lot. He wants it to be a lot. He wants it to be overwhelming, in the best possible way, sensation layered upon sensation until spoiling me takes on a whole new definition in practice.]

[ He is, of course, primed to be difficult. How could he not be, when Jotaro just corrected him on something. He's ready to feel nothing as thoroughly and deliberately as possible just to make Jotaro wrong.

Star's touch is what he expects, even if he doesn't know who to expect it from. He knows what it feels like, now. He's ready to try to tune it out, at least for long enough to demonstrate that he's right. And he'd be meaner about it if it wasn't Star, rather than Jotaro. There's a limit to how mean one can be to Star. He settles on a calm, unaffected tone. ]

Really? That's sp-

[ A calm, unaffected tone that lasts for a matter of seconds, because he wasn't expecting everything else. What follows is the sound of someone discovering that the sensation of fingers moving over his chest does a lot more for him when it's through cloth. Or possibly the sound of someone who already knew that they shares sensations with their stand but who had maybe forgotten that other people also know that. ]

Jotaro- Jotaro, fuck-

-do you- do you even know what part of his body that is?

[ It's probably not an effective deterrent. It's not really meant to be a deterrent. He doesn't want Jotaro to stop. It's a clumsy attempt to save face, to keep being difficult because Jotaro said he was wrong, as if being a little more difficult means that his breath isn't coming out in little whines now or that he isn't seeing stars every time Star moves him. ]

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starmark - 2020-12-20 22:58 (UTC) - Expand

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hierophany - 2020-12-26 21:10 (UTC) - Expand