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gauloiseblue · 5 months

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Keep Your Eyes On Me

[Giorno Giovanna × Reader]

Never in your wildest dreams did you think you could paint someone as magnificent as Giorno, but it happened just like that. It all started from a small talk about the weather and the lovely sight of his private garden. But as soon as you talked about the progress in your project, he immediately proposed something you wouldn't expect.

"If you really need a model for your painting, you could've just asked me."

You snapped your head towards him at lightning speed.

"For real?" You asked, and he nodded without hesitation. "I mean—isn't that dangerous? I might end up exposing your identity! Because it's gonna be exhibited in the gallery and—and since your face would be on my painting—" You stammered as you tried to explain, "Someone might recognize you, and—"

"Hey, calm down. You think too much." He said with an amused grin, "No one has ever seen my face, except for the few people I trust."

He tilts his head when you squint at him, “I doubt that.”

“You can change my hair color, or alter my face a little bit if you’re still unsure.” He suggested, “Like I said earlier, I don’t mind becoming your muse.”

An amused snort came out from you louder than you intended, “That’s a bold choice of word, Gio.”

“But you always whine about not having a muse.”

“Well,” You scratched your nose, “What I mean by that is having an ordinary person as my muse, not the legitimate Don of passione.”

“I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” He raised his brow, and an exasperated sigh left your mouth.

“That’s not it…” You mumble while your head’s down, not looking at his direction, “It’s just that… I’m worried about your safety, Gio. I don’t need to be a part of the mafia to know that everyone wants you dead. Not everyone, but you get my point.” You corrected, “I don’t want to accidentally put you in danger, y’know?”

For a moment, the conversation went cold. He didn’t say anything, and you didn’t look at him. But then you hear footsteps, and a hand slips onto your cheek as he cups your face. “You really have the tendency to make me work for it.” He retorted gently, “I offered myself to be your model because I know you want me. But it’s not your job to worry about me, (Y/N). I want you to finish your project first, before you decide what to do with the painting.” He smiles, “Capisce?”

Although you didn’t get cold feet, it seemed like Giorno thought otherwise. Because he holds you still when you step away, and his grip is firm on your waist.

“Alright, alright.” You compromise, “I’ll do it, okay? I’m gonna take my stuff first, so can you please let me go for a sec?”

—

The painting equipment you bring is quite heavy, but you refuse to let his man carry them for you. You’ve surveyed the ideal place for the background, and you quickly set up the easel. While you set down your brushes and color paints, you watch the men arrange a long sofa by the window. With the instruction from the Don himself.

“So you’re gonna lay down?” You asked.

“You expect me to stand for hours?”

“No, but I thought I told you to sit on a chair.”

“It wouldn’t look as good.”

You roll your eyes, “I guess beggars cannot choose.”

He grinned as he dismissed his men, “I would take my clothes off if you wish to paint nude—”

You quickly clear your throat, loud enough until it sounds very constrained. Even though his men keep a straight face, you know they heard him. You glare at him, and he just chuckles in return.

“Shall we begin? You can lay down now.” You told him as you squeezed out the paint, “Make sure everything’s comfortable enough for you.”

“I’ll be more comfortable if you lay beside me.”

“Giorno.” You called him with a frown, which only made him smirk. He doesn’t speak much as he gets on the sofa, and leans comfortably against the armrest. You pick up the medium-sized brush and dip into the green color. You glance toward him, and begin to sketch on the white canvas.

“Hold on.” He said as he unbuttoned his vest, and slid them off his shoulders. You see him throw the black garment away carelessly, before he loosen up a few buttons of his shirt.

“Dio mio, Gio.” You uttered as you put down your palette. “Can’t you at least not throw it to the floor? It’s gonna get dirty.”

“It’s gonna be laundered anyway.” He replied while he rolled his sleeves, and you just scowled as you picked it up.

“Stronzo.” You mumbled as you dusted off the vest, and went back to your place. You drape the thing onto your chair, before you pick up where you left off.

The green color quickly spreads on the canvas as you map out the scene. You use the blue to sketch out the window, and the soft yellow for the sofa. Your eyes dart to him while you paint, and you hate to admit that he made the right choice to get rid of the vest. He fits perfectly into the picture.

You wonder if you ever see him as relaxed as this before. Although you knew him close enough, he still used his refined manner around you. As you draw the black line, you wonder where his attitude goes.

The brush is quickly switched with a bigger one, and you mix some dye until it resembles the color of the wall. You paint most of the canvas with the new color, and add the shadows and light. You look out the window, and find the sky’s clear. You’re gonna need a lot of blues.

As you work on the details, your eyes inadvertently fall on him. He’s also looking at you, with his cheek resting on his palm.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” He asked.

“Like that… like you’re gonna…” You pressed your lips tightly before you shook your head, “Nevermind.”

You turn your gaze away as you focus on your work. The shadows are roughly placed, and you move on to the greenery.

“You know,” He began to speak as you painted, “I’ve had my portrait done a few times before, but you’re the first one who insists on doing it in my garden.”

“Why? You missed your office already?” You sneered.

“No, but I do miss my whiskey.”

Your brows furrowed, “You don’t drink liquor.”

“I don’t drink when I’m working.”

“Huh.” You replied nonchalantly, “Of course, this is just a picnic for you."

He chuckles, “I wouldn’t consider this as a picnic, there’s no wine and cheese platter for us.”

“Us?” You narrowed your eyes, “This isn’t a date, Gio.”

“I know.” He stated, “It’s just a proposal.”

You feel your blood rushes to your face, and you turn away from him. You can’t think of anything as the reply, so you settle with silence. It didn’t surprise you when he openly flirts with you, and you usually just shrug it off. But this time, you can’t ignore him at all, not when he sounds so serious.

The window on the canvas slowly takes shapes, and provides a good background for the plants. You spend the next hour perfecting the tall foliage, without sparing another glance at him. But you don’t have to look to know that his eyes are glued on you.

As you finish the basic lines of the potted plants, you proceed to draw the long sofa. You keep your head down as you blend the faded cream color, and put them on top of the yellow.

“I think I’ll be working on the background detail now,” You announced without taking your eyes off the canvas, “You can take a break Gio, feel free if you want to leave.”

“I’ll stay.”

You bit your lip, he’s going to be a hell of distraction.

Humans can acknowledge if something’s watching them, and you curse your ancestor for passing down that ability. Even when you try to ignore it, it keeps screaming at the back of your head. Because not only does he keep his eyes on you, the intensity of his gaze also sets your alarm off.

He never looked at you like this before, right? Or have you been ignoring the signs? His friends always teased you, saying that you wouldn't be a great detective. But you're never good at reading someone's thoughts, let alone his mind. God knows what's going on inside his head.

If someone matches up the painter's apathy against the Don's preservation, it's gonna take a long time to know who's the winner. But this time, the answer seems to be clearer. And when your eyes met, you realized how terrifying his stubbornness can be.

"Gio," You mused, "Don't look at me like that…"

His lips spread into a half smile, "Like what?"

You grip your brush tightly, you don't have the courage to speak up your mind. It would be silly to ask the most feared Don about what he wants, because he has been declaring it loud and clear.

"(Y/N)." He called you softly, but as tenderly as it was, he still made your heart race, "Did I make you uncomfortable?"

"I don't know." You looked away, "I just… don't want to get the wrong idea."

His smile grew wider, until the lines around his lips became prominent, "Come here, (Y/N)." He stretches his hand toward you, "I'll let you find out."

There's no need to confirm your suspicion, because the words he just said is a confession itself. You look at him and realize that he doesn't hide his infatuation. And you know better than approaching him without thinking. Because if you do that, it can only mean you reciprocate his feelings.

But do you love him? You asked. Despite the path that he chose, and the fact that you'd be plagued by constant worry about his safety. Will you still love him? Even when you know the misfortune will follow the two of you to the end?

Yes. Yes you would.

You gently put down your palette, and wipe your hands on your handkerchief. You've been repressing your own feelings for so long, but you won't hide anymore. Once you make it to his side, he'll know that you love him. There's no turning back.

He sits on the edge of the sofa by the time you walk to his side. When you stop right in front of him, he reaches for your hand and pulls you closer.

"Won't you regret it?" You muttered while he wrapped his arms around you, "I'm just a mere painter."

"And yet,” He tugs your hands and kisses them tenderly, “You could bring me to my knees.”

You blushed when he placed another kiss on your wrist, “Giorno—”

His head perks up, and you reach out to cup his face. He doesn’t resist when you lean forward, bringing your face closer to him. For a moment, you wonder why the thought of kissing him never crossed your mind before. He looks so… inviting.

He puts his hands on your waist as you press your lips against him. You taste his hunger on your tongue, and he guides your hand to his shoulder. You utter a small squeak when he hooks his arm around you and brings you down to the sofa.

The soft cushion puffs out under the sudden weight of your body. You need a second to process what had just happened, before you see him leaning over you.

Before you had the chance to speak, he already kissed you again. You squeeze your eyes shut as you circle your arms around his neck. Having him so close to you makes you realize how many details you missed out about him. The subtle scent of his shirt, the softness of his hair, the warmth of his skin.

Maybe you’re overwhelmed by love, even adoration. But you swear when you look at him, he never looks as magnificent as he is now.

—

The chatter and the occasional clink of glass fill the room as you walk past the visitors. The exhibition is bustling with people, and the champagne flows endlessly. There’s a few acquaintances around, but you only greet them without a small talk.

Giorno promised you he’ll come, even though you’re strongly against it. You’re worried about him making an appearance in public, but he assured you it’s alright.

This might be the first time you’re feeling nervous in the exhibition. Not because of the display of your art, but rather the incoming arrival of your muse.

When you reach the section of your paintings, your tension drops as you see familiar faces. His friends are coming, and you know Giorno is safe when they’re around.

Bruno is the first to notice your presence, and he smiles as you walk closer.

“Ciao, (Y/N).” He lifts his glass of champagne, and you return the gesture.

“Ciao.” You grinned, “Glad you made it here.”

“I would never miss it, (Y/N).”

The rest of the crew greet you, as they give a short praise for your paintings. But not without commenting about the portrayal of their Don.

“What did you do to him? He doesn’t look scary at all.” Said Narancia, “I swear, he looks more terrifying than usual. I could never get used to seeing him like that.”

“That’s because he only smiles when you mess up something, Narancia.”

“I never thought I’d get to see him without his suit on. I mean, he looks like the kind of man who sleeps in two-piece.” Mista jested.

“Now you mention it,” Abbacchio chipped in, “Why did he agree to be your model?”

You shyly answer, “He’s the one who suggested it.”

“What?” Bruno stares at you wide-eyed, “He asked you to paint him?”

“Sort of.”

Abbacchio strokes his chin slowly, while keeping his eyes on you. “That explains the lack of formal clothes.” He sneered, “So, did he finally succeed?”

“Succeed on what?” You furrowed your brows.

He only sips his champagne as he looks past behind you. The others seem to do the same, and curiosity makes you turn your head.

To say that you didn't expect him to dress up to the nines for the event was half a lie. You know he loves to flaunt, but seeing him like this almost makes you drop your glass. Because not only does he catch everyone's eyes, he doesn't hide his magnetic charm at all.

"Amore." He tugs you close by your waist, and places a peck on your shoulder, then your lips. "Sorry I'm late."

"Gio." You hissed, "I told you—"

"Dio mio!" Narancia gasped as he pointed at the blond, "Did you just kiss her?"

Fugo grabs his head and pulls him away from the group, "Come on now, don't bother them."

The youngest member protested, but he couldn't get away and got dragged further. The rest of the crew just watch them leaving, before they shift their attention to you.

Mista is the first one who speaks, pointing out the obvious, "The two of you are dating?"

"Well," You instinctively rub the back of your neck, "Yeah."

Your lover leans closer to whisper to you, "You don't sound so sure."

"Sorry." You squeeze his hand. "I just don't know how to tell the news to you guys."

"But why?" Bruno's eyes crinkled as he smiles in amusement, "We've been waiting for this moment." His statement made Giorno chuckle, before he pressed a kiss on your crown.

"I miss the time when he didn't care about girls." The silver haired man groans when Bruno kicks on his ankle, "What was that for?" He grunted.

"Aren't you happy that they're finally together?" Mista playfully asked as he circled his arm around his neck, "You used to complain about them all the time."

You raise your brows, but the older man just shoves him away. Mista laughs when he receives the death glare from him.

"Now, now." Giorno spoke up at once, interrupting the early stages of their usual bickering, "If you'd excuse me, I have to go on a date with (Y/N)." He encloses your shoulders with his arm, "She promised to give me a tour around the exhibition."

Bruno gives him a small nod, "Sure," He then adds, "Have fun, you two."

You wish them a good night before Giorno drags you away almost immediately. The drink on your hand almost spilled out as you tried to follow his pace. After walking through the third of the gallery, he stops at the empty corner.

It doesn't take long before he pushes you to the closest wall, and starts kissing you like a hungry man. You voice your protests, but they only get squashed down by his lips. You don't know which, or whose paintings are being displayed beside you, but you hope you won't disturb them by accident.

The two of you finally part to catch a breath, and you just realize that two people just scurry away when they see you. A pang of embarrassment struck you as you're suddenly aware that you got caught making out with him—your own model—on the day of your works' exhibition.

"Didn't I tell you to be patient?"

You put a frown on your face when he softly chuckles. He doesn't seem to mind his manner, which effectively fuels your guilty desire further.

"I've waited for long enough." He expressed with a coy smile, "Don't you think I deserve fair compensation?"

#jjba #jojo part 5 #repost from ao3 #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #fluff #love confessions

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dark-side-blog3 · 7 months

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sometimes all the time i just wanna be spoiled and praised by my yanderes ,,.., i love being good and doing what they want so they say nice things and reward me!! esp if someone like dio or lucifer praise me knowng they dont do it to most people <33 it fills me with so much euphoria and makes me so horny knowing they treat me special because i do stuff they want me to do -📱

Dio and Lucifer withhold their praise, treating kindness like gold.

Lucifer seems to be more likely to go around and tell others under no circumstance are you to be praised; maybe going the route of insulting you around them and rewarding them with his jovial attitude if they insult you (because mind you, Lucifer convinces everyone that he's hard to please, and if throwing someone else under the bus gets them an easy way to keep Lucifer pleased, then it's a necessary sacrifice). And with no other way to get your praise, you'll have to do whatever it takes to make Lucifer smile at you, calling you clever, or diligent, expressing that he's proud of how you've grown.

Dio on the other hand seems like he's going to send the same message, but why bother with being subtle? You will be publically degraded and humiliated constantly. Be it in the streets of London, or in the front hall of his Manor in Cario, you will be embarrassed for Dio's amusement. And the message of your indecency makes its way around the right circles-- London thinks you've lost your value from being goaded into trouble by Dio. And Dio's servants think you're a weak toy, to be trodded on by their master.

Either way, Dio becomes the only person who is capable of regarding you fondly, even if he is usually your tormentor. He extends aid by letting you rinse out your wounds in his bathroom, carrying you if you need. Propping you up against his headboard as he sits next to you, reading. Asking you about your philosophy as he reads, listening intently to your answers, praising you for a unique insight into a passage he's reading, and lying against you as he reads some more. You're quite comfortable, you know.

#yandere dio #yandere dio brando #yandere lucifer morningstar #yandere lucifer #yandere jjba #yandere jojo #yandere jojo's bizarre adventure #yandere jjba prt 1 #yandere jjba prt 3 #yandere jjba prt 6 #yandere obey me nightbringer #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere obey me #anon confessions #anon confession #cellphone anon

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deescade · 2 years

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Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Part 6: Stone Ocean (love triangle + confession scenario) click and drag game!

warnings: flashing images

op's notes: I was debating whether to should include the minor villains or not, I ended up not including em here to make things quicker. Might or might not add them in the next games

Game notes • How to Play

Please use a browser other than Google Chrome as the GIFs lock onto its first frame on Chrome. Safari and Firefox work, please try those

If you're on mobile, screenshot the gifs either as a set or individually

#click and drag #click and drag game #flash warning #flashing image warning #seizure warning #jjba #jjba part 6 #stone ocean #love triangle + confession scenario #jolyne cujoh #ermes costello #weather report #jjba foo fighters #enrico pucci #jotaro kujo #jjba gwess #narciso anasui #jjba x you #dio brando

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fandomlife-confessions · 4 days

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#fandom life confessions #jjba #jojo #jojos bizarre adventure #couldn't find a good transparent pic of all nine sorry!#trans #trans hc

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x-infernhoes-x · 4 months

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•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

𝕁𝕁𝔹𝔸𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖- 𝕍𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕠 𝔸𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕠˖°˖🌪˖°˖ •☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

Updated as of 12/15/2023

Created on 12/13/2023

Hi! so this is just an update of sorts for my old JJBAsona bio that has something to do with my self shipping considering that I've been dragged into the Jojo fandom again HVFSHJABF HJ

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

˖°˖🌪˖°˖𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕖𝕣𝕒𝕝 ℙ𝕣𝕠𝕗𝕚𝕝𝕖˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝𝕆𝕙, 𝕨𝕙𝕠 𝕚𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖?❞ - I Monster, Who is She?

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

Codename: Paella Visconti

↳ Namesake: Paella: A Spanish rice dish from the Valencian Community.

Luchino Visconti: Italian filmmaker, theatre and opera director, and screenwriter

Birthname: Eunice Flores

Nickname(s): Elvis (by Mista and Formaggio), En, tigrotta mia (by Risotto Nero, Abbacchio, and Bucciarati)

Age: Depending on the verse but the main verse has her as 24 years old

Birthday: February 8th, 19██

Zodiac Sign: Aquarius

Chinese Zodiac: Tiger

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5 ft 3 in / 160 cm

Weight: 100 lbs / 45 kg

Blood Type: O

Birthplace: ████ ██ ██████,Metro Manila, Philippines

Eye Color: Dark Brown/Black

Occupation: Assassin (current), University Student (formerly), Personal Bodyguard of Italy's pop sensation, Trish Una (Formerly), Bruno Bucciarati's personal assistant (formerly)

Ethnicity: Filipino

Nationality: Filipino-Italian (through marriage of connivence)

Organization: Passione

Backstory: Born and raised in somewhere in Metro Manila, Philippines, En or more commonly known by the undercover name she had once she had joined Passione as Paella Visconti (often shortened to Ella or Elvis as Mista and Formaggio would call her), she had a relatively normal and quiet life in her hometown where she was raised by her father’s parents inside the walls of the very same home her father and his siblings had grown up on. But En knew she was destined for a life that was just more than normal. A natural born stand user, En was initially unaware of her abilities as a stand user and has been subconsciously using its abilities from the start, En’s stand managed to manifest itself physically at the age of 16, triggered by her intense emotions during her days as a junior high student. She also happens to be a close friend and ally of Josuke Higashikata whom she met online at age 14.

She first appears after the events of Golden Wind and Purple Haze Feedback, she subsequently crosses paths with the one and only Bruno Bucciarati himself at the age of 21 during a trip to Singapore and ends up working for him as the Capo’s personal assistant before getting assigned as the personal bodyguard for Italy’s pop-sensation singer, Trish Una along side with Narancia Ghirga, Guido Mista, and Shiela E.

Now a bonafide member of Passione, En is assigned by Don Giorno himself to the newly reinstated La Squadra Esecuzioni, En currently lives in Naples, Italy, with her boyfriend of 3 years, Pannacotta Fugo along with their cats and their roommate, Guido Mista.

(Relationship lore of Fugo and En can be found here!)

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

˖°˖🌪˖°˖𝕃𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝔻𝕚𝕤𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖𝕤, 𝔽𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤, 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔽𝕝𝕒𝕨𝕤

𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕖𝕥𝕔.˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕒 𝕓𝕖 𝕕𝕖𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖. ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕥𝕖, 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕀'𝕞 𝕒𝕗𝕣𝕒𝕚𝕕 𝕠𝕗. ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕒𝕦𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕕𝕕𝕝𝕖 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥, 𝕀 𝕛𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕜 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕝𝕠𝕧𝕖.❞

- Taylor Swift, Daylight

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

Favorite Color(s): Dark colours and certain pastels, anything that doesn't look like an eye sore or gross

Favorite Flower(s): peonies, lavender, garden roses, forget-me-not, and blue hydrangeas

Favorite Movie(s): Stay Alive (2006), Moulin Rouge (2001), Mamma Mia! (2008), Mulan (1998), Les Miserables (2012)

TV Show(s): Revolutionary Girl Utena, Digimon, again too many to count

Favorite Food(s): Kare-Kare, Tteok-Bokki, Pizza, Cheeseburgers, Fries, Pasta, usually depends on what she hyperfixates on

Hobbies: Reading novels that fall under young adult, greek mythology related, fantasy, or even classics, cooking, singing, dancing as a form of leisure exercise (though not very good at freestyle), video gaming, art, doing runs, listening to music, reading and learning.

Musician(s): Too many to count or list but is found mostly listening to her top five artists: Hozier, Florence and the Machine, Mitski, Taylor Swift, and Fleetwood Mac, occasionally listens to David Bowie and Kate Bush.

Likes: Cats, books, memes, video games, puzzles, her family, coffee, pickles, trail mix, astronomy and astrology, anything witchcraft related, visiting historical sites, learning, swimming, the beach, stormy weather, learning about flower languages and plants, listening to podcasts that are mainly true crime or character/media analyses, psychology related stuff, cinnamon, people who ask nicely and talk without malice or anger.

Dislikes: Fried Chicken that has too much oil in it or repeatedly being served, being seen as her being like parents/her father, the weather being way too hot, creeps, misplacing or losing her items, people who chew loudly, sewer rats, stepping on things with her bare feet, basically anything gross, certain conspiracy theories, people lying and those who deceive her, any type of abuse, harassment or violations against someone’s consent, animal abuse, cucumbers, going to the sea/beach without slippers, sand getting into places that shouldn't be in, physical touch from people who she aren't close with without warning, people who don't ask nicely or yell, patriarchy, weird textures.

Fears: Being seen as someone who is a burden to people, being seen less as a person and discriminated due to her learning disability which is ADHD, failing or becoming a disappointment, being seen as a terrible person, being betrayed, losing her loved ones, becoming like her father, the apocalypse, certain carnivorous reptiles such as snakes, heights, and certain images of saints aka 'Santo'.

Flaws: En, while highly self-aware that she can overthink, has this certain tendency to keep her thoughts to herself and bottling it up due to her upbringing and her fear of being a burden to people. Though while this is mainly solved and is making progress of keeping in touch with people she cares and trusts enough, the habit is still there. She also has the habit of apologizing when there's no need to and also thinking that she's invincible but not to the point of tomfoolery especially when it comes to dangerous or high-risk situations but rather, this manifests as mostly in completely mundane things such as her sleeping and eating habits. She also has this internalized vindictiveness to her that sometimes shows itself from time to time but this is regulated.

She also has this habit of offering sage advice to people but never follows her own advice, thus calling herself as a 'walking contradiction' due to this, she also developed this habit of taking care of others, making sure their needs are well met and forgets about her own, sometimes her 'mother hen' like habits can be smothering but manages to keep it on the low. Despite of her flaws, she is currently working through these issues to the best of her abilities.

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

˖°˖🌪˖°˖𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕀'𝕞 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕪𝕠𝕦.❞ -Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Home

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

While it is common knowledge amongst her peers that En comes from a big middle class family back in the Philippines, she doesn't really mention any of them by name, considering her position as a hitman and a member of Passione. The info below is taken directly from her file from Passione as per requested by the Speedwagon Foundation to add to their database and associates. It seems that most of it is blacked out as it follows:

ＫＮＯＷＮＲＥＬＡＴＩＶＥＳ: Father: █████ ███████ Flores Age: [REDACTED] Status: Alive Stand User: No Mother: ███████ ████████ Age: [REDACTED] Status: Alive Stand User: No Grandmother: ████ Flores Age: [REDACTED] Status: Alive Stand User: No Notes from the Researchers: has been suspected as a Ripple User as is the rest of the subject's family from the 'Flores' side. This is also suspected with Subject 13 herself considering that one of her stand's abilities happens to be healing through the means of breathing. -Subject 13, aka Eunice ███████ Flores, first born daughter of █████ ███████ Flores (second son of ████ Flores and the late ███████ Flores) and ███████ ████████, has been raised by the matriarch and former patriarch of the Flores family since she was born. Medical records state that the Subject was born prematurely and was raised by the new grandparents. Our researchers have also noted that Subject 13 happens to be the only known natural born stand user amongst her family members, and by extension, her 12 cousins. Subject 13 happens to have at least four known siblings, but the whereabouts or status of the fourth sibling happen to be unknown.

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

𝕊𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕀𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

❝𝕄𝕪 𝕝𝕚𝕗𝕖 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕒 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕞, 𝕤𝕚𝕟𝕔𝕖 𝕀 𝕨𝕒𝕤 𝕓𝕠𝕣𝕟, 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕 𝕀 𝕗𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕙𝕦𝕣𝕣𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕖?❞ - Hozier, Francesca

˖°˖🌪˖°˖

Stand Name: Heroes

Stand Namesake: Heroes (David Bowie Album & Song)

Ability Types: Close-Range/Long-Range, Semi-Sentient

Form Type: Natural Humanoid Stand

Stats:

History: Heroes is a close-range/long-range natural humanoid stand of En Flores who possesses a range of abilities focused on air/weather related abilities. Though she’s been with the user from the beginning, Heroes makes her first physical appearance to a young En at the age of 16 after the latter had experience a bout of strong emotions, most particularly emotional distress over something that happened during En’s time as a Junior High student (which, funnily enough, happens to be En stressing over her History test) and has been with her ever since.

Personality: Noted by some of En's friends and enemies alike, Heroes, while seemingly looking like as if she has no innate personality due to her stoic disposition, has shown bouts of intense protectiveness over her user, En and by extension, those who En holds dear to her heart, mirroring the user's mother bear habits. While it's not very obvious to some, Heroes seems to sometimes have a separate consciousness from her user and has been noted to have mannerisms similar to that of a curious owl or a playful and mischievous feline at times.

In battle, she remains as composed as she is in general, barely showing any emotion unless En herself feels a strong bout of them, which Heroes would mirror. Another thing that not most people know much about is that Heroes can speak for herself but instead of a normal voice, those who aren't close with En get to hear the sound of every storm, howling winds, and blizzards and a banshee's* *combined but En understands her perfectly. However when a connection is formed, Heroes' voice becomes crystal clear, speaking in a voice that's similar to her user's but much more ethereal, airy and echoey with the hints of the previous sounds and her way of speaking is mentioned to be very polite and smart.

Physical Description: Heroes is a humanoid Stand of a feminine figure, resembling its user in some of its proportions. Often characterized by its free flowing golden locks tipped with silver, blue winged helmet-like mask with the Christian cross in the middle, obscuring its eyes and the upper half of its face, and pale silver skin and the motif that its sporting being a notable mix of a valkyrie, a ballerina, and Elizibethan fashion judging from its collar and overskirt.

The lower part of its face has these distinctive markings of two vertical lines across its eyes and a half circle under its lower lip which are painted gold.

Heroes wears a body suit of gold and blue with two elongated hexagonal shapes at the sides of its hips, a tear drop shape opening right over where its belly button should be, and multiple lines sewn onto it finished by the feathered blue Medici styled collar and overskirt detailed with thin, golden tendrils of pure lightning; it also wears knee-high boots where the kneepads baring some sort of resemblance to the frangipani flower, african violets, strawberry blossoms, and marsh marigolds with the stem pointed out as a blade in the middle of a ribbon spiral finished off with two-tiered pauldrons resting on its shoulders.

Abilities: Heroes is a highly versatile stand possessing the ability to control the weather. Though Heroes’ ability may be near similar to Weather Report’s, it’s not the same. Unlike Weather Report, Heroes can manipulate certain elements such as thunder and lighting and be able to create weapons out from the elements that they can control. One of Heroes’ featured abilities are giving its user the ability to fly and glide in the air, breath healing, controlling the atmosphere and the weather, aerokinetic invisibility, air attacks, and weather weaponry. It can also have control over any form of precipitation and storms and grant the user a banshee-like physiology.

Its range when creating large-scale storms is based on the location where the user is currently situated. The most notable example is that if Heroes and En found themselves in a city such as Venice, Italy, that would mean the entirety of Venice would be affected, and where both the stand and user are will serve as the main landfall zone where the storms are particularly worse than the rest of the location.

•☽─────⋅☾⋆⋅ ﾟ⛆˖°˖🌪˖°˖ ﾟ⛆ ⋅⋆☽⋅─────☾•

Okay so hi! First off the pic came from here and that I just edited it on my computer considering I haven't been able to draw anything as of late :"DD which would also explain why the picture I have for my sona lacks glasses ;u;

As for the timelines, there are at least two known variations of it! The main verse, which I will be calling as strawberries and cigarettes, and a secondary verse called which will be called as fulmine dorato [eng. golden lightning]!

So basically, in the strawberries and cigarettes verse, the events of Golden Wind + Purple Haze Feedback take place in the year 2015 as opposed to 2001. It also means that the events of DIU happened at less than a year before the events of Golden Wind basically making Josuke, En, and Fugo be the same age. Also this is a verse which basically reverses the deaths of Leone, Narancia, Bruno, and La Squadra but they all carry some form of scarring from the nature of their deaths and whatnot. I got inspired by theclockworkkid on ig and this one fic I read way back in 2020 something and it just stuck on me.

For the fulmine dorato verse, its basically the canon version of golden wind/purple haze feedback (no one dies in La Squadra and Bucci Gang bc I am a sucker and I want them to have happy endings HBVFHJASFB) and that En has been around Passione since she was 15 and was originally a part of La Squadra before being put under the custody of Bruno Bucciarati's team due to 'mysterious circumstances as of late' (basically, La Squadra protecting their youngest bc they're about to betray the boss after Sorbet and Gelato's deaths, only to find out that En would go down the same path as they did aka betraying the boss insert spiderman pointing meme here)

so yeah! Which leads into the tag of 🍓🌦children of the revolution//fugoen children🌦🍓that can be seen on my blog and the family's introduction which can be read here!

#en speaks #en's confessions #jjba #f/o stuff #self shipping #🍓strawberries and cigarettes fugo and en🍓#jjba sona lore #jjba sona #vento aureo #golden wind

12 notes · View notes

junosartsthetic · 1 year

Note

Can we get some SDC boys reacting to y/n confessing their love to them while away from the group? (Ps I’m also a polnareff fangirl eek)

This took so goddamn long I am so sorry. I have been working on this forever but kept getting stuck and distracted but anyway here we are!

Confessions

Warnings for the rest of the parts: general fluffy stuff, some angst, kissing in Joseph's part

Warnings for Polnareff's part specifically because I got horny during his. Sorry: NSFW, descriptions of sex, afab!reader, I tried to keep the scene vague, orgasms, unprotected sex (implied birth control use)

You weren’t sure when you started to fall for him. Was it love at first sight? Was it a slow build of feelings? Was it a sudden pulse of attraction? It’s like your mind blurred whenever you thought about it. You supposed it didn’t really matter. All you knew was, at the last leg of your journey with the crusaders, only a few days before reaching Dio’s mansion, you had to tell him. If it was the last thing you did, you had to.

You promised yourself that you’d tell, and would live with his answer, regardless of what it was. The future of everyone’s lives was at stake facing such a powerful enemy. You refused to die without telling him your feelings. It was the right thing to do. Right?

And so, having asked to share a room with him for the night, you had the perfect opportunity to confess. It’s just. . . it’s like you couldn’t get the words out.

Jotaro Kujo

“You okay over there?” Jotaro asked, donning his usual uniform as he laid on his bed. The television droned on in front of him. His hat was off for once, placed on his nightstand. You always liked when he took his hat off. He looked so nice. Well, he always looked nice. In an attractive sort of way, that is. He had the exact opposite of a kind face. Still, there was something lurking just under the surface that gave you. . . comfort?

As of late you couldn’t even look at him without your feelings overwhelming you, leading to a flustered goodbye as you made your exit. It was highly embarrassing, and yet you couldn’t help it. Not only were you desperately pining, you also got stuck falling for a guy who calls his own mother a bitch. Lucky you.

Currently, you sat on your chosen bed, already in your pajamas, with a worried look on your face. When you heard your companion’s words, you lifted your head up to meet his gaze. He stared, unwavering.

“I’m fine,” you replied, quickly diverting your eyes to the T.V. “I’m just. . . thinking about how to say something, I guess.”

“What do you mean, how to say something?” he quipped, rolling his eyes as he spoke. “Just say what you mean. There’s no point in thinking too much about it. If you know what to say, then spit it out. It’s annoying when people try to sugar-coat things.”

“If you fell in love with someone. . . would you tell them?” you murmured back. You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your chin on them as you wrapped your arms around yourself pathetically. You felt so. . . small at the moment. How were you supposed to save the world if you couldn’t even speak your feelings? “There’s, well, someone I want to confess to before we all face Dio, but I don’t know if I should.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? Good grief. Just tell them. I’m guessing it’s someone in our group, right? If they can stand traveling almost 50 days with you, then they won’t just abandon you if you confess.”

You let out a sigh. How pitifully ironic. He was giving you advice to confess even though he was the one you needed to confess to. “I guess. . . I just promised myself I’d spill, too. . . but I just don’t know. . .”

“It’s Kakyoin, isn’t it?” Jotaro gruffed. “You two are always sharing a room, talking with each other about fuck-knows what.”

You shook your head, stifling a laugh at his odd use of foul language. “He’s a sweetheart and I do adore him, but only platonically. It’s not him.”

“Polnareff then.”

You shook your head again. “I love him like a brother. It’s not him either.”

“Avdol.”

Another head shake. “Just another good friend.”

Jotaro’s face curled into a disgusted expression. “The shitty old man?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Absolutely not. God, that would be weird, especially given—”

“It has to be Kakyoin then,” he interrupted. “I named everyone.”

Taking in a breath, you shook your head. He could be so. . . clueless sometimes, despite his street-smarts. “It’s. . . you, Jotaro. I’ve fallen for you, you dumbass.”

He stared at the television screen, dumbfounded. He moved to pull his hat down, but it wasn’t on his head. His normally annoyed expression blossomed into a red and flustered visage. He ran a hand through his hair, speechless. He didn’t even grunt at your crude nickname.

You had to admit, an embarrassed Jotaro looked kind of cute. You knew underneath his facade there was something else. Someone vulnerable and emotional and. . . adorable.

“Good grief. . . me? Why?” he turned to look at you and you shrugged, pulling at the strings of your pajamas.

“I dunno,” you replied dumbly. “It’s just what my heart decided. I’m just along for the ride.”

Noriaki Kakyoin

“Hey, did you hear me?” the red-head questioned, pulling you from your love-sick daydreams. You sat in the hotel’s arm chair, nestling your curled body against the comfortable cushions. Your eyes moved to look at Kakyoin laying on the hotel bed, already in his pajamas. He had a book in his hands, though he didn’t seem very interested in reading it given that he had been trying to talk to you for the past few minutes.

He huffed, shutting the book and setting it to his side. He sat up, leaning forward to capture your full attention. “What’s up with you lately? You’ve been out of it. Are you feeling okay?”

You nodded halfheartedly, sighing as you leaned against the chair, eyes now darting aimlessly around the ceiling. “Physically? Fine. Mentally? Like I’ve been hit by a bus.”

Kakyoin frowned, scooting to the edge of the bed. He swung his legs off, facing your chair tucked in the corner of the room. You reluctantly uncurled yourself, wordlessly sitting next to him. The bed cushioned around you. You knew he would want to pry sooner-or-later. And you also knew you weren’t about to get away from this conversation now that he brought up your moody state

“Talk to me,” he said. “Who’s been bothering you?”

“Don’t you mean what?”

“No. I mean who. The only consistencies with our trip have been people. Us and the enemies. So who is it?”

You huffed. “You’re too perceptive sometimes, ya know that?”

“So I’m right. It is a who.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirmed. “It’s something regarding someone that has been gnawing at me and it’s really messing with my mental state. . .”

“Is this about Polnareff and his flirting with you? That man can’t restrain himself around pretty women. It’s really something he needs to work on.”

Your heart skipped a beat. He just called you pretty. Kakyoin just called you pretty! You stifled the urge to clap in happiness. You quickly composed yourself, crossing your arms. “No, that doesn’t bother me. He just does it to be sweet now. And I appreciate the compliments he gives me. Trust me, if I wasn’t okay with it, you know how it would end.”

He clicked his tongue, thinking. “Is it the opposite, then? Do you have feelings for him?”

You waved that idea off. “He’s a gentleman and all, but not really my type. Too. . . well, just too much, really.” You laughed softly.

“Hmm. I see. What’s wrong, then? You know you can talk to me. And it’s better to say what you feel than holding it inside. That’s dangerous, even, with what we’re doing.”

“I know, I just—what if, when I say what I feel, I ruin everything? With the end of this trip getting closer and closer every day, I am petrified of losing him not only as a friend, but as someone in my life.”

He tucked a strand of his hair aside, looking you in the eyes. Gently, he placed a hand on your knee. “Well then, you have nothing to lose, then, right? Who knows what will happen days from now. Not anyone! It’s stupid to worry about losing this person if we’re all ending up at the same place anyway. We all have a goal. Defeat Dio. And nothing you say to any of us will change that. I assure you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Well, since you’re so sure of yourself—I’ve had feelings for you—I do have feelings for you. Since I can’t remember when. It feels like we’ve known each other for years. And I can’t get you out of my head.”

He let out a laugh. A laugh that fluttered the butterflies in your stomach. “Wow. I—I’m not laughing at you. I just—I’m such an idiot. All this time, and I could’ve told you my own feelings from the start?”

“I don’t understand. . .”

He moved his hand upwards, squeezing your thigh. His other hand gently caressed your heated cheeks. “Don’t you get it? I feel the same way.”

Muhammad Avdol

It was the most frustrating thing, falling for the person you’d usually talk to about stuff like this. He was always there for you, listening to every word you had to say and giving honest advice—though some were not perfect. That was part of why you loved him so much, though. He cared enough to try to understand and help solve your issues, even if he didn’t succeed. You weren’t even sure when ‘love’ became ‘in love’. It was like one day you woke up and couldn’t stop picturing a future with him. Was it the ever-decreasing days to get to Dio? Was it too long in the desert heat? Did you hit your head? Who knows. Did it really matter? All you knew was you were down bad, and as much as you tried, you couldn’t hide it from him.

Of course, Avdol took note of your new attitude change, but you kept brushing his concerns aside. It wasn’t like you could tell him he was the reason for it. It’s just. . . you’d rather have him as a friend forever than confess to him and lose him. You couldn’t bear the thought of not having him in your life anymore. Remaining as a pining friend was good enough for you.

And yet. . . you couldn’t even sleep without dreaming of him. It was pathetic, honestly. You felt like a middle-schooler with the way you were crushing on him.

You clutched your head in frustration, sitting up in bed. It was near pitch black in the hotel room, but you could just barely make out the figure of Avdol sleeping in the bed next to yours.

Fighting back a sigh, you crawled out of bed, making your way to the only window in the room. You pried it open, enjoying the cool air enveloping your tired body. Lazily, you leaned against the sill, eyes drooping but resisting the urge to shut permanently. You basked in the moonlight, hoping that it would somehow drown out all of your issues. You were completely lost as to what to do, but maybe just looking at the stars for a while will give you some sort of clue.

Unbeknownst to you, a form stirred in the darkness, and he sat up groggily. Avdol began to open his mouth, but your figure in the moonlight gave him pause. He missed seeing your face so calm. Recently, you’d only thrown him scattered glances and hurried responses. It was strange. It was like something had possessed you, puppetting you around against his wishes. He would do anything to have a complete conversation with you again. But as of late he couldn’t keep his head on straight. Any comments he could think of were washed away in the tide of your curious eyes and bright smile.

You had Avdol wrapped around your finger and you didn’t even know it. He just needed to tell you. But the courage always drained before he got the chance.

A sudden surge struck him, infiltrating his mind before he could stop himself. “Can’t sleep?”

He said softly, careful not to startle you.

You turned to look at your companion, his groggy appearance and tilted bonnet only adding to his sleepy charm. A smile graced your features. “Yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you?”

“It’s alright. What’s bothering you?” he asked, sliding out of bed to join you in your stargazing. His hands rested against the window sill, brushing against yours.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” you blurted out, filter clogged with sleepiness. Did you just say that out loud?

He laughed his usual deep rumbling laugh. “That’s flattering. I’ve had you on my mind, as well.”

“All good things, I hope?”

“Very.”

Your face burned. Did he call out his stand? Why did you suddenly feel so hot? “Like what?”

“I’m not sure if I should say,” he confessed, a large hand moving overtop yours. He traced your digits absentmindedly, as if studying your hand’s every detail. “I’m not usually a shy man, but you’ve cast a spell on me. Admittedly, I’ve missed times like this with you. You’ve been so distant lately. Have I done something wrong?”

You shook your head. “No, not at all. The opposite, actually. I’m afraid that if I. . . even look at you, I’ll. . .”

“Fall in love.”

Your voices overlapped, echoing in the small space. His hand intertwined with yours.

“I’m a fortune teller. I had a feeling.”

You instinctively tried to curl away, but he pulled you in close. You could feel his soft night clothes against your skin. Smell his warm and fiery scent. Hear his heart beating rhythmically in his chest. He was so close. So close you could. . .

Wordlessly, his lips met yours.

Jean Pierre Polnareff

Ironically, you and he were too busy enraptured in a deep kiss for you to speak your mind, his fingers trailing lower and lower down your abdomen. It was something you and he often did—sleeping with each other not for love, but for a stress reliever. Someone to be close to. To feel. To touch. To explore. You both had a shared need to wash away your clouded minds, and so you came to a mutual agreement. At the beginning, you both made it perfectly clear there were no strings or feelings attached. It was just lust. Temporary highs the two of you craved that could eventually be set aside once you parted ways.

The distant feeling of fingers spreading you open flashed in your brain.

But there was a problem. It wasn’t just lust anymore. All the flirting and teasing and fucking, well, somewhere in all that you started to fall in love. You didn’t want to go your separate ways after all this. You didn’t want to find a new friend with benefits. You wanted him. Not just sensually. But romantically. You wanted to see and experience every part of him.

Your core lubricated quickly, his steady fingers working you in all the right places.

But. . . to change your current relationship? That was something you were too afraid to initiate. What if he leaves you all together? What if—

“Spread your legs for me, cherie.”

You almost forgot your current situation, pinned down and naked under a muscled Frenchman horny-out-of-his-mind. You obeyed his command, your legs sliding to rest on either side of his massive thighs as he steadied himself.

A familiar fullness rutted within you, and like always, you felt a breathless high begin to build. Though you and he had done this many times, and you were practically shaped for him now, it still drove you crazy. With every stroke inside, you gasped in silent pleasure, and your nails dug into his toned back as he continued his fluid but fast pace. He was never one to hold back, especially after a long but stressful day.

You knew he was close as his pace turned sloppy, and your own orgasm threatened to burst from your stuffed entrance.

He moaned breathlessly in your ear, his cum spilling to splatter your walls. Your entire body twitched in anticipation. Delicate hands gripped his head in support as you came harshly. There was only one sentence on your lips as you drowned in your high. “Don’t leave me.”

Polnareff, lips pressed against your neck as he marked your skin, groped your breast in response. He was never good at this falling in love stuff, so he figured he’d show his true feelings rather than tell.

“I’m here, cherie,” he whispered, kissing up your jawline. “I’ll always be here.”

Joseph Joestar

You would think you’d be embarrassed about liking a man who was older than your father when you weren’t even thirty yet, but the way your heart pounded when you looked at him felt too good to feel bad about. You couldn’t help it.

So what he was pushing 70? His body, mind, and wit were as sharp as ever. He gave you goosebumps at every slight touch. His handsome smile made you swoon.

He was the man of your dreams.

But how to tell him. . . ?

You bit your lip, busying yourself with the hotel’s notepad. You scribbled mindlessly in a useless attempt to calm your mind. He’d be up any minute now, just finishing his drink at the bar.

Letting out a groan, you decided to clear your thoughts with a shower. Hopefully the rushing water would drown everything out.

You rustled through your bag, grabbing your pajamas and fresh undergarments. Padding to the bathroom, you tossed your change of clothes on the counter before turning on the water.

You let out a sigh as you tested the temperature with your palm, feeling the hot shower soothe your flushed skin. You pulled your hand out, stripping quickly. You quickly shut the door before stepping in.

Perfect. No thoughts. Just hot water and steam. You closed your eyes, muscles relaxing. . .

The room door opening alerted you to Joseph’s entrance. Ignoring the fluttering in your chest, you began to wash yourself.

A second door opening shocked you, and you turned to see the shadow of Joseph enter the bathroom. Good thing the shower curtain wasn’t see-through.

“I’m in here!” you called over the sounds of running water.

“I’ll only be a second, I’m just brushin’ my teeth before headin’ to bed!” he replied.

Despite everything, your heart raced in nervousness.

Panicking, you misstepped, leading to your soaked body tumbling against the shower curtain. It whipped outward, leaving you falling towards the ground. You let out a gasp, preparing to hit the hard bathroom tile.

Muscled arms grasped your body, pulling you against a firm chest. Grasping for anything to steady yourself, you latched onto his shoulders, leaving you pressed up against his body as you regained your footing.

After the immediate shock of almost colliding with the floor left you, your new situation flooded your senses.

Joseph must’ve felt your heart pounding because he moved his hands away, making sure you were steady before backing away entirely.

You snatched your towel from the rack, quickly covering your nude form.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, concern in his gravelly voice.

You nodded, catching your breath. “I’m so sorry,” you whimpered, embarrassment overwhelming you. What a horrible situation. What the hell were you supposed to do now?

“I’m the one that came in unannounced and scared ya,” he replied, rubbing his neck. “Sorry this old man had to see ya naked.”

“I’d rather it was you than anyone else,” you blurted out. Your eyes widened as you covered your mouth. Jesus Christ. Get a grip! What the hell was that? “Sorry! That was wrong of me to say! I just mean. . . “

“Just mean. . .?”

Pushing aside your nervousness, you began to speak. “Look, I, uhh, I don’t know how to say this without sounding not weird, so. . . I guess I’m just gonna say it. I have, umm. . . well. . . feelings for you. And I have for a while now. Like. . . romantic feelings.”

“Wha—are—me? Sweetheart, did you hit your head just now?”

You shook your head, pulling the towel tighter against you as your body shivered with anxiety. You wanted to curl up and die at the moment. Why would you confess? He obviously would just be weirded out. What was wrong with you? “No, I—, Sorry,” you mumbled. “Just forget I said anything. I just needed to get it off my chest. . .”

He placed a tentative hand on your head, ruffling your hair. “You don’t want an old geezer like me,” he muttered.

In a sudden burst of angry energy, you grabbed his hand, pulling it down and meeting his eyes. You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed him to reject you once-and-for-all. You couldn’t live in suspense anymore. You needed to hear him say no. Maybe then you’d finally drop your crush. “Don’t gimme that. Just tell me to get dressed and leave and we can both pretend this never happened. Don’t sugar-coat it. Please. I can’t have my stomach in knots over you anymore.”

He swallowed thickly, embarrassment coating his cheeks. His bright eyes stared into yours. “I, uhh, I can’t.”

“Why not?” you whispered, bringing his hand against your chest to feel your racing heart. “Please, just tell me you don’t see me like that. Tell me you don’t want me. I need to hear it. I need to hear it to get you out of my head, Joseph.”

He moved his other hand to caress your cheek. “I told ya, I can’t. With you standing here like this. . . all I wanna do is make you mine. I can’t say I don’t want ya, because I do. And it’s all I can think about.”

You stepped forward, pressing yourself against him. “Then make me yours.”

Lips crashed into yours.

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prettydemka · 5 months

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I am the admin of 3 confessions about JJBA in Telegram and one of them is NSFW ... One evening I received a message in the bot where a person asks for NSFW with Kira and Hayato and I just sat in shock from this for two days 💀

The worst thing is that the person doesn’t understand what was wrong with that message when he literally asked for NSFW with a CHILD 😭😭😭

whole situation can only be described with Russian obscenities ☹️

#jjba #jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo's bizarre adventure #I FUCKIN HATE CONFESSIONS

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maiaczy · 4 months

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anasui for the requests? 🩷

Here you go, the barbie of the jojoverse himself

Also there's this thing that I drew once as a result of an inside joke between me and my friend so. i guess yall can have that too

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qusmiri · 21 days

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[🍈🎩] scratching head i kinda forgot to post this here

#i know wekapipo wouldn’t be the one to confess first like #dude can’t. feelings.#but if he did i like to imagine it in this funny situation him being just autistic #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure #sbr #steel ball run #wekapipo #magenta magenta #magent magent #wekamage #drawing #and animatic 😎#wekapipo x magenta magenta

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lady-wallace · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 16 - "I'll Follow You Down" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)

I have to write at least one angsty GioTrish fic every Whumptober, so here it is.

~~~~~~~

Prompts Used: Flatline, 'Don't go where I can't follow' Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Character: Giorno

~~~~~~~

Read on Ao3

Read on FF.net

~~~~~~~

Trish took a taxi straight from the airport to the hospital, small carry-on bag and all. All it had taken was the sound of Mista's voice over the phone for her to get on the first flight out of Milan and head back home.

She flew through the doors to the emergency room, finding Mista sitting there, one arm in a sling, bloodstains on his coat.

"Mista!" Trish cried as she saw him.

"Trish," he stood, hurrying toward her and holding her close with his good arm. "You got here fast."

"I took the first flight out as soon as you called," she said. "Is there any news?"

Mista shook his head, and slumped back into the chair, Trish taking the one next to him. "He's still in surgery. They…they haven't updated me. I guess no news is good news but…god."

"What happened, Mista?" Trish asked, trying to keep her panic down at the moment.

Mista ran his hand over his face. He looked awful, exhausted—he didn't even have his hat on. "We've been having trouble with this rogue group of Stand users. A couple weeks ago, they hit one of our places and took out a bunch of our men. Giorno, you know how he gets, he wasn't going to stop until he had taken them down. And he didn't. He kept going and going until he tracked every one of them down and took them out. I did what I could, Trish, I did, but he would just leave in the night when I passed out from exhaustion. He just…gets so driven about this kind of thing."

"I know," Trish replied.

"If one of the other men out on patrol hadn't tipped me off, I never would have known and I—god." He pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. Trish looped her arm through his and squeezed before he continued. "Fugo and I got there in the thick of a fight. We fought through the goons and got to Giorno and that was when all hell broke loose. Our plan was to get Giorno out of there and let Fugo go nuclear with Purple Haze, but the guy's Stand basically had a mirror effect. I tried to shoot him but the bullet got me instead. And then he was right behind me, and Giorno…Giorno shoved me out of the way and…" He swore, squeezing his eyes shut. "Bastard punched a hole right through him. Like—you could see the…you know, never mind. But it was bad. Really bad. So bad Gold Experience doesn't seem to be around right now so…"

Trish covered her mouth with a hand but before she could ask any questions, there was some kind of alarm and doctors began running down the hall. Mista and Trish were on their feet at once, following to see what was going on, fearing the worst.

A doctor stopped them before they could get to the room all the others disappeared into.

"You can't be back here."

"At least tell us what's going on!" Mista demanded. "Is it Giorno Giovanna?"

"Yes, he flatlined as soon as we got him into recovery after surgery," the doctor said seriously. "His injuries were extreme to say the least. And we are not very optimistic. I'm sorry."

"What the hell does that mean?" Mista demanded. "He can't die! Don't you know who he is?"

The sounds from inside the room became less frantic and the blaring of alarms slowed, giving Trish back just a little of her breath. The doctor looked over his shoulder.

"Let us in there," Mista snapped.

"I can't do that."

"You can and you will," Mista growled. "I'm his freaking bodyguard, and this is his fiancé."

The word caught Trish off guard more than she could have imagined. It hurt, deep down, the flavor of daisy chain promise rings and chocolate flavored kisses; of drunken confessions and soft blond hair wet with tears that glinted in the moonlight. A lie that was so false and bitter where it should not have been.

Because of moments just like this.

She barely noticed as the doctor moved aside with a baleful look and Mista ushered her in.

Giorno lay in the bed, white as the sheets, doctors fussing over him, adjusting wires, checking his vitals. Trish could hardly be comforted by the steady beeping of the heartrate monitor because Giorno certainly looked dead, another machine even breathing for him at the moment.

"Giorno," Trish breathed and left Mista's side, instantly rushing to the bed, grasping one limp hand in hers as she pressed her other to his cheek.

"Miss, you can't…"

"Work around her," Mista snapped.

But Trish was already pulling away. "No, I'm sorry, please."

She returned to Mista's side and he held her as they watched the doctors finish up before one came over to them.

"Well?" Mista asked.

"He suffered extreme internal damage, and we're going to have to put him into surgery again in a couple of days. But I will warn you, in the condition he's in now, there's no guarantee he'll survive that long. It will take a miracle for even a partial recovery."

Trish and Mista were silent as the doctor left. A couple nurses continued making Giorno comfortable before they left as well.

Mista sagged and ran a hand over his face. "We have a miracle waiting, he just…needs to make it long enough for Gold Experience to manifest again."

Trish silently left his side and pulled a couple chairs over to the side of the bed.

"He will," she said, but with little conviction. "He'll live, Mista."

The gunman's wan smile betrayed his own worries about that. Because they both knew just how bad off Giorno was. How often he threw himself into danger as if he didn't care whether he lived or died—only that a job got done.

Were they enough to bring Giorno back from the edge? Or had he finally stepped too far, with no hope of being pulled back?

"Are you okay here?" Mista asked hesitantly. "I need to call Fugo. He's still…cleaning up everything."

"Of course," Trish replied then, "Mista, you should go home and get a shower, sleep if you need to. I'll be fine here, and…I call you if anything happens."

He pressed his lips into a thin line but the sag in his body told Trish just how exhausted he was. "I'll grab a quick shower, but I can't sleep right now."

Trish nodded in understanding and squeezed Mista's hand before he left.

The gunman stopped at the door though and turned back. "Trish? Talk to him," he said sincerely. "You might be the only one who can get through to him."

Trish was silent, a lump in her throat keeping her from speaking. Alone, she reached for Giorno's limp hand, wrapping her fingers around his. She reached out with her other to stroke the lank, blond curls from his face. A face weary and worn beyond his years, dark patches under his eyes giving his face a hollow, deathly look.

"Why do you have to do this to yourself, Giorno?" she whispered, voice breaking before she swallowed it down, shaking with anger and fear and a million other emotions. "Don't you see what this is doing to everyone around you? Don't you know what it's doing to me?"

There was, of course no reply, but she continued. "Don't you remember when you promised that someday we would be together? Well, that someday never came, Giorno, and it never will if you keep doing this kind of shit." She ground her teeth together. "I love you. And I'm never going to stop loving you just because you push me away. I will always be here waiting, waiting for you to get your head out of your ass and say you love me back. Say it when you're not drunk and you're not—not dying." Her breath hitched and she ducked her head until her forehead rested on his knuckles. "Because I'm going to keep coming for you whether you like it or not, so don't…" Two tears rolled down her cheeks and wet his hand. "Don't go where I can't follow, Giorno. Just don't."

She started sobbing silently, clutching his hand. But Giorno remained silent, clinging to life, the machines breathing for him, and Trish wasn't sure how much longer she could be strong.

XXX

Trish left the room briefly to grab a coffee and it felt like all hell broke loose as she came back. The heartrate monitor started blaring the second she got into the room, alarms going off, and her heart dropped to her feet, as she rushed over to grab Giorno's hands again.

"Giorno! No, don't do this!" she demanded, pleaded, as the doctors rushed into the room and practically pulled her away.

Trish stumbled into the corner, watching as they pulled Giorno's hospital gown open, preparing the paddles to shock his heart back to beating.

"Clear!"

Trish watched in agony as Giorno's body arched off the bed briefly, but the monitor continued to blare in one steady beep.

"No pulse," one nurse called obviously.

Trish couldn't do this anymore. This wasn't happening.

"Gold Experience," she called, voice hidden in the chaos. "Requiem. If you can hear me, show yourself."

To her surprise the Stand materialized beside her, eyes trained on its user.

"Do something," Trish demanded, eyes wet.

"I am weak right now," the Stand said, speaking in an odd, flat version of Giorno's voice. "But I can save him."

"Then do it," Trish hissed. "He's dying!"

"Yes, and so am I," Requiem said simply, tiredly. "I cannot heal him alone, I will need your help but you have to understand something."

"Anything, just save him," Trish whispered hoarsely.

The Stand stared at her with its uncanny eyes. "I will have to borrow part of your soul in order to be strong enough to heal him. It will bind the two of you irrevocably—even I do not know what that will entail."

"But it will save him?" Trish asked.

The Stand nodded.

"Then do it," Trish said firmly.

Requiem disappeared and reappeared hovering over Giorno, the doctors oblivious as they worked to bring him back.

"Take his hand, Trish," the Stand commanded.

Trish didn't hesitate, she rushed to the bed, pushing through the doctors who cried out in warning, reaching out to stop her. Trish ignored them and stretched, latching onto Giorno's hand.

Energy surged through her and Giorno both, a burst of golden light that threw her backwards, the ring finger on her left hand burning.

"Miss, please stay out of the way, you—"

The constant blare of the monitor stopped and continued in normal paced beeps, the doctors regrouped, shocked as they looked Giorno over again.

"He—he's completely stable!" one of the nurses cried in surprise.

"Heartrate, sinus rhythm—all completely normal."

"What the hell?"

Trish looked down at her finger and saw a small golden band wrapped around it like a ring. Her hand shook, dizzy, but she didn't have time to think of that because Giorno suddenly gasped, choking on the tube in his throat.

XXX

Trish sat once again at Giorno's bedside, staring at his hand clasped in hers, two identical bands on their ring fingers. Trish remembered the promise ring Giorno had made her a long time ago, crafted from tiny daisies, a sweet blush on his face as he had Gold place it around her finger; a promise that someday they could have the life they wanted.

But maybe that was a foolish wish spoken by children who didn't yet understand the hardships that the life they led could bring. Who didn't realize what the weight of loss could do, when it kept coming and coming, constant reminders of fallen comrades, and only more names added to the list of victims.

But Trish had grown beyond that happy ending fantasy. She had grown up, and so had Giorno, and perhaps she should have been more clear to him that she didn't mind the blood and the dirty deeds. The danger, and the long nights. As long as she could be the one to wash the blood away, as long as he would come back to her bed when his work was done and she could hold him while he slept, there was nothing more she wanted.

But perhaps now she had tied them together closer than that. She didn't feel any different, but there was an undeniable bond to Giorno now, her own heartrate synced up to his.

A twitch of fingers before his hand finally curled around hers in turn.

"Giorno?" she asked, heartrate picking up as she looked up quickly, seeing his eyes flutter open.

"Trish," he whispered, eyes pools of earnest green. "I should have told you this a long time ago."

Trish couldn't speak as he reached up, cupping the back of her head to pull her close, pressing their lips together. Trish melted against him, twining their fingers together, the two golden bands pressing against each other.

Giorno pulled away and pressed his lips to her ear. "I love you."

#whumptober2023 #no.16 #flatline #don't go where i can't follow #jojo's bizarre adventure #fanfic #hospitals #soul bonds #love confessions #giorno giovanna #trish una #guido mista #giotrish #jjba part 5 #post canon #gold experience requiem #vento aureo

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dark-side-blog3 · 5 months

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A bit of a different type of confession, but here goes. I find it so aggravatingly confusing that so many other yandere headcanon blogs interpret yandere!Fugo as a sadistic incel who goes out of his way to use his darling as a sex doll/punching bag to take out his frustrations on.

I don’t wanna slag people for having different interpretations of the same character, but I agree that it never just felt like Fugo to me.

I think the reason they characterize Fugo as violent and hyper-sexual is because those are common traits of rape survivors. But there’s no one size fits all for trauma survivors of any kind— and while it’s just as likely for someone to become hyper-sexual, there’s the likelihood that they become paranoid about coercing or somehow forcing their partner to the ultimatum of rape/abandon them for lack of sex.

And that just seems to line up with Fugos personality a little more, in my opinion.

It’s also weird when he’s this sadistic who thrives on others suffering and plans out how to torment his victims because… That’s not what I saw watching season five, or reading the spinoff manga.

I saw a man who desperately wants to compose himself, who doesn’t want to be angry all the time, who’s trying his best to keep his literal manifestation of violent outbursts at bay. I saw a man who, when he did snap, did so impulsively and brutally. It wasn’t about planning out how to best humiliate the victim— he saw an immediate threat, and he pummelled them, with all the grace and intelligence of a rabid boar.

Even when the outbursts were at Narancia (someone Fugo obviously doesn’t consider a threat but a friend), they’re quick, loud, and almost instinctual. Stabbing him with a fork, jabbing him with the keys, ect.

I see Fugo as someone who tries his hardest to control his violent tendencies, and wants to use a more logical approach to fixing problems (running away from a mafia boss as opposed to going to the island that he’s definitely luring your group to, which means it’s a trap, for example). But due to his hyper-vigilance, can’t help but have a more explosive reaction to things that aren’t a big deal to most people.

#anon confession #yandere fugo #yandere panacotta fugo #yandere jjba prt 5 #yandere jjba

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twary · 2 years

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2 with Josuke? I don't have a preference on who the speaker is, as long as it's sweet. Thank you!

Hey, thanks for requesting darling! Josuke just fits so well with sweet moments, doesn't he?🥺✨

I've made a school scenario for this one, hope you don't mind and like it! ><

Just love ahead, please enjoy💜

✨ Prompt list ✨

"I can’t deny you any longer." x Josuke

Cut for length~

Today, you are finally returning to Morioh. It's been a year since you said goodbye to your friends, hometown and the adventures… Now it's time to finally say "I'm back"

You wanted to surprise your friends so you didn't tell anyone you would be back today. Your goal is just to show up back at school and see their reactions. Oh, that uniform! You really missed how well it looks on you! Class time never seems to come, you want to see them soon! is Yukako finally with Koichi? Has Rohan published more successful mangas? Does Okuyasu still live in that hideous house? Does Josuke still wear that hairstyle? Your mind is full of questions you want to ask them that you barely notices the time.

When the teacher calls your name and you enter the room your eyes instantly meetJosuke's, luckily you are still in the same class as before! The surprise on his face is notable, as much that the happiness in yours.

The lunch time finally arives and you just see multiple figure running towards you:

"HEEEEY (Y/N)! Hehe, you're really back! Hehe, so it means that the gang is finally complete again, huh?" Okuyasu throw an arm around you.

"I couldn't believe it when josuke said you were back, it's really good to see you" Koichi shakes your hand with a smile on his face before Yukako pushes him away from you.

"Oh my, you're finally back!" Yukako hold both your hands "You don't know how hard is to be the only girl in this group, they're all dumbasses! Except for Koichi, obviously"

"Oh guys, i missed you all so much! I- Oh, wait, Yukako, so you and Koichi are really together?!"

You guys talked for a long time, but someone was missing...Seems like Josuke doesn't really missed you...Or maybe he is busy right now...Well, it doesn't matter, in the end of the class you will go talk with him! But...When the class ends he just run away...Well, like I said before, maybe he's busy with something, you decide that you won't bother him for now, after all, you still have to visit Rohan-sensei and Jotaro! They were the only ones who knew about you, so they decided to meet at a coffee shop near the school.

When you arrive they have great reactions, it seems they are happy to see you. You tell them how it was when you were away and they what happened in the city and in their lives in that time. It was gettin late when Josuke's name comes up, you decide to ask if he is up to something recently and explain that he didn't talk to you all day and that you expected him to be the one who would be most happy with your return, you two were very close!

"Oh right, as expected from him, what a coward." Rohan take the last sip of his coffee and gets up.

You don't really understand what that means.

"He's always been like that on this subject…(Y/N) have a little patience for now" Jotaro gets up too and both greet you goodbye.

When you head home you can only think about Josuke, is he mad at you somehow? Your night is full of intrusive thoughts. You really wanted to talk to him, but the Jotaro's words might be right, you just need to be a little patient...

A week and a half had passed, Josuke was still avoiding you.

That's enough, he was your best friend and now turned into a stranger? Oh that will not remain like this!

The lunch time comes and Josuke was not arround, but you knew his "secret spot" you two always were on the rooftop when it was lunch time. So like that, you went there and found him, just as you had predicted.

When he sees you he gets up ready to leave.

"Higashikata Josuke you're not going anywere before an explanation!" You were blocking the door "Are you mad at me? A week has passed and you didn't even say a word to me! We were so close, what changed? You didn't miss me? Do you hate me by any chance? Like, i'm sorry, but i really don't know what have i done for you to treat me like that! Oh my god, i've missed you so much my heart hurts, you're the one i've missed more! And then when i'm finally seeing you again you are like this?!" You were holding your tears back. You're really mad right now.

"You know what? If you really don't want to talk to me, keep it up" You were opening the door to leave when he grabs your wrist.

"(Y/N), wait! Look, i...Uh...--Oh my god, screw it, I can’t deny you any longer okay?! You may have left this town, but you never left my thoughts, it felt like a part of me had gone with you! I tried to ignore this feeling but suddenly you came back and these feelings only got stronger! I-I didn't want to fall in love, but here i am!"

Josuke's words catch you off guard…"love"? Did he really mean it?

He is looking down with one hand on the back of your neck "You don't need to stay here and hear all that, i just-"

He is interrupted by a hug.

"Did you really think I wouldn't love you back? Why'd you think i missed you the most? I fell in love with you a long time ago, Josuke."

Josuke is still static in the same place, when he finally realizes what you just said he hugs you tightly.

"My heart is about to explode, i hope you're not joking about it" His voice is shaky and you can feel little tears falling on your shoulder.

You cup his face and lean your forehead on his "I would never" You have the most happy face on right now.

"Josuke, i love you" You lean in for a kiss, which he happily reciprocate.

You notice that the tears are already falling.

"So...How about i give you a real reason to cry, huh? Remember that game i've lost for you many times before? In that little time that I was away I trained, and now i am more than ready to kick you butt, Higashikata!" You say while running towards the stairs behind you.

"Huh?" He is a little surpised by the sudden change "O-Oi (Y/N)! Come back here! You can't be serious, i'm the one who kick butts here!" He runs after you with a big smile.

You two obviously skipped class that day.

#josuke 4 #josuke headcanons #jojo josuke #josuke jjba #jjba josuke #josuke x y/n #josuke x you #josuke x reader #josuke my beloved #josuke higashitaka #jjba part 4 #jjba diu #jjba diamond is unbreakable #josuke fluff #jjba fluff #jjba prompt #higashikata josuke #love confessions #jjba headcanons

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