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jellyluchi · 3 months

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An Education in Humanity

A/N: I had this idea while in the shower and since I'd not written profoca in a while it seemed like something new to explore. It is probably their least physically affectionate story. The Egypt stuff I can’t explain just imagine they’re going on vacation. And Idk if they had credit cards back in 2001.

Pairing: Prosciutto x Focaccia Genre: Fluff, Angst (?) Content warnings: implied racial discrimination Summary: Two assassins run into a difficulty when grocery shopping

Grocery shopping is an entirely ordinary affair for people who are entangled within the sordid shadows of the world. Through the maze of aisles carrying produce, bottles, cans, and boxes, it’s easy to keep oneself hidden. But that is not at all necessary for the kind of work Focaccia and her husband have been up to lately. Holding a bag of flour in her hands, she fumbles with translating simple Italian adjectives in her mind. Frowning at the fine print, she turns to Prosciutto.

“What does this say?” she points a manicured finger to an unfamiliar Italian word. Even grocery shopping in the years that has immersed her into the language has not schooled her vocabulary.

The man gives a nonchalant glance to the sack, his head turned downwards with boredom playing on his face. Unlike his usual disposition for a well tailored suit he opted for a thermal coat and layers of cotton underneath. Neapolitan winters may not summon snow, even at night, but the chill is enough to warrant warm outerwear. Not to mention the air-conditioned interiors of most grocery shops.

“Something about heart health,” Prosciutto says the words as though they are of no consequence. Focaccia glances once more at the price, thinking of how much flour they have left.

“Just take it,” her husband commands, already turning to disappear into the next alleyway of items.

Huffing, Focaccia places the little bag into their cart. At least it is good for her indecisiveness. If Prosciutto deems something good enough then it must be, right?

Following close behind, she pushes the cart aimlessly looking at what he picks up and snatching a couple snacks on the way. Other shoppers stay out of their path most of the time but Focaccia catches the eye of a lady and smiles. The pitiable woman’s oculars shift from the towering, uncouth figure behind her before easing into reciprocating her expression and moving on. Despite the quickness with which she made herself scarce, Focaccia spotted her trepidation towards Prosciutto, commiserating her.

Fluttering about from one area to the next, they work slowly into fulfilling the list of standard monthly items. Illuminated by the harsh fluorescent lights and accompanied by soft but boring music, Focaccia feels a sense of peace for their mostly idyllic life they have been able to lead. If she tries hard enough, she could pretend their lives are almost normal.

Once the necessary items are procured, the pair wait patiently in line behind a few other groups of people. Mothers, daughters, uncles, and grandparents, go about their daily lives. She’s no stranger to hushed murmurs of the spoken language but Focaccia sometimes wishes she knew exactly what they were saying.

Eyeing the cashier she notices a dark haired man working behind the counter rather enthusiastically and unusually fast. He’s talkative from the way animated expressions and loud voice that emanates from him. Or perhaps that is customary for Italians.

“Can you pay?” She pleads to Prosciutto, the man looking the other way, makes a non-committal noise of agreement. Having been bad at math most of her life, Focaccia hates counting her money by the cashier and holding the line. It’s humiliating, especially with people more than happy to point out how slow she is.

Moving to stand out of view behind her husband, she lets the cart stay by his waist as the line moves along. Prosciutto is much less awkward than herself, usually making conversation if someone speaks first. Focaccia always finds herself stumbling with her broken Italian before they start speaking in English out of pity or some such thing.

Only when it’s their turn does she walk to the other end of the counter, attending to the groceries being bagged. There is the usual sound of the cashier’s voice greeting Prosciutto but the man says something unfamiliar that she assumes to be for conversation. At Prosciutto’s silence she looks up to see his utter shock, eyes widening for a fraction of a second and lips apart. It’s a rare sight and Focaccia barely has a moment to understand before his face contorts to an extreme grimace. But what follows is most certainly never something she would expect, especially in such a public setting.

Hauling himself over the counter with his tall frame, Prosciutto doesn’t have to reach far before taking the poor cashier by the neck for a swift punch to the horror of those in line. The commotion escalates fast and Focaccia fears what would happen if she lets it get worse.

“Stop! Stop!” Yelling, she pulls him back by the waist, hoping the damage isn’t too bad. It’s strange, he’s never acted this way before. Whatever was said to him must have struck a nerve. “What’s going on?!” She demands from him, now noticing the poor disheveled worker and the look of pure hatred in Prosciutto’s eyes. He does not even show this much emotion when he’s killing a target.

Instead of answering her questions, Prosciutto spits Italian curses at his opponent before being pulled outside by his wife. She carries the two grocery bags, worried about whether they’d be banned from coming back. “What happened?! What did he say?” She would be worried about whether he paid for their groceries or not but her priorities were just reshuffled.

“Let’s not talk about these things here,” he replies, taking both of the bags from her before a protective arm on her lower back ushers her to their car. It’s clear Prosciutto is still angry and agitated from his encounter. The usual scowl on his face is much deeper than she’s used to, and the knuckles on the steering wheel are white from his grip. She’s only so thankful that his frustration does not manifest itself in his driving lest they run a red light.

Dinner is quiet, something quickly put together with some of the groceries they bought earlier. And Focaccia is too nervous to ask what weighs on Prosciutto’s mind. His eyes soften when they meet hers, his blues a particularly mysterious shade and her browns twinkling with silent questions but he seems unable to meet them for long.

After their meal, Prosciutto settles into bed, watching her comb her hair with an air of disdain still hanging around him. Sitting beside him, she puts an arm around his back, feeling the muscles relax. “What did he say, Prosciutto,” she asks.

“...It doesn’t matter,” comes his moody but defeated reply, clearly irritated from being reminded of the conversation.

“Please,” Focaccia says. “I have to know.”

Sighing, Prosciutto’s body seems to deflate, letting go of all the anger repressed inside his body all evening. “He said…something derogatory.” Prosciutto opts not to translate the vile words.

“About you?” Focaccia says in confusion.

“I wouldn’t have cared so much if it were about me.”

Staring at him with silent understanding, Focaccia moves closer. “You didn’t have to, you know.”

This seems to anger him further. “And let him say whatever he wants about my wife?”

“I mean you don’t have to protect me,” she says with a smile. “I didn’t survive this long here on my own for nothing. Or in the west for that matter. I may not speak the language, but I can tell. It’s in their eyes.”

She finds something very rare within his eyes, a speck of melancholy as if understanding only a miniscule amount of her experiences for the first time. And it renders him somewhat speechless.

“Tell me,” she says. “Did you attack him just for me or would you have done that if he said that about someone else?”

At her question he thinks before answering. “Anyone else and he would have earned a glare and a dismissal. I admit,” he says with the voice of a man who is entirely not sorry for his actions, “the punch was personal.”

Smiling fondly, she hugs him close.

“Don’t stop me if it happens again,” he murmurs. Again… because it is something she will simply have to live with.

A thought occurs to her. “Maybe it is you who will have to experience it when we are in Egypt,” she says. “Don’t worry, I will protect you then.”

The words have their intended effect and Prosciutto chuckles somewhat forlornly.

“Or,” he suggests. “We could find the CEO of the grocery store and blackmail him for money,” the mischievous smirk in his mouth beckons.

Focaccia lets go, looking at him with some excitement and disbelief before cackling with laughter. “I like that.”

Bonus A/N: The reason why I was hesitant about posting this is because of the subject matter being sensitive and all its implications. I have not thought of every possibility or the best interpretation for it. But most importantly I wanted to emphasize Prosciutto not being some white savior trope and Focaccia knowing how to deal with them in her own way. it's just great to see Pros jumping someone for disrespecting his wife. It's not written here but it's possible he went back and stalked that dude to kill him or worse LOL

#prosciutto #jjba x oc #prosciutto x focaccia #prosciutto x oc #selfship stuff #focaccia fics #fics #sid writes #focaccia stuff

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rhaemaya-valwynn · 27 days

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The art (courtsey of @ahoge-fish once more for oc x Canon week: play fighting, since I missed it due to being sick again)

Annnnnnd the reference (courtsey of yours truly)

God I love it when my gremlin terrorizes that man....

#jotaro kujo #jjba oc #synth #jjba #oc x canon #jjba x oc #star platinum #ocxcanon week day 1 #voidwalker

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amberswords · 11 months

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🗡 Have a sweet little commission i just finished for @succubus-shipping !!! I always have so much fun drawing Rohan <3

#eddie does commissions #eddie draws #jjba #rohan kishibe #jjba x oc #jjba x you #diu #diamond is unbreakable #jojo's bizarre adventure #self-shipping #art

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ahoge-fish · 1 year

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Is it just me or the JoJo X OC fandom is getting kind of toxic?

Welp, it is not getting toxic, it already was. And sadly not only the JoJo X OC fandom, but every one of them (flashback to little me seeing those videos of jealous little girls that scream "SANS IS MINE YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM!! *procedes to kill you*, fucking rolling my ass on the floor because I though they were so ridiculous)

Because 💫people are such beautiful creatures💫

Now, I'm lucky to have not met those people yet (knocks on wood), but you probably know who I mean. The ones that say "NOO JOTARO IS ONLY MINE YOU CAN'T HAVE HIIIM", or "gosh your ship sucks, it's so lame", or "stop shipping your oc with Jotaro it is cringe" and other and other and other...

I saw these people somewhere else and not on my blog (fortunately), and this is so fucking disgusting. I already said it and I'll said it again to them (who will not read this, I'm very sure of it because they're such idiots but I don't care): IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING, SCROLL DOWN. BLOCK THE BLOG YOU DON'T LIKE. JUST. DON'T. SEND. HATE.

You don't know how a person could react to that hate, you don't know how much even one of these comments could affect one's mentality, because yes: behind an OC x Canon or selfship blog, THERE IS A REAL PERSON WITH FEELINGS. A person, a human that is probably struggling with real life's problems and having their blog is the way they cope with them. This is their happy way out to get distracted and feel happy when they feel down, or just somethig they do for fun. Either case, you are ruining that person's happy world.

Why? Just- because???? I really don't see the point of sending hate when you just can IGNORE what you don't like. And no, it's not a big deal, they're fucking fictional characters so you don't need to be the the "hero" of the situation by sending hate to them thinking "aaah, I've done a good thing. Now the Internet is a better place!"

Just- just no.

How are they hurting you in any way?? Just- AYO JUST FUCKING SCROLL DOWN IT'S NOT SO HARD TO DO HAHA

But now, to the people who are jealous about they're s/o and see someone else having a blog about them but with their OC. DO👏 THE👏FUCKING👏SAME!!! Just scroll down, or block the blog you don't like. Easy game!!

People, THEY ARE FICTIONAL CHARACTERS!! NO CANON CHARACTER IS NO ONE'S POSSESSION, BUT TO THEIR OWN CREATORS!! Jotaro isn't yours, is fricking Araki's.

But you can still ship yourself or your OC with him! Because who says you can't? Is there a law for it? For loving a fictional character? No, so just go ahead and do it.

And also- to give it more lOgIc if people still aren't satisfyied with sharing their s/o- in the JJBA lore with Vento Aureo and another thing I will not say because then it'll be spoiler, we are 100% sure that other universes and multiverses exists, that means infinite Jotaros for everyone and so INFINITE SHIPPINGS!

That means that everyone gets to have their own Jotaro, the way they like him in THEIR OWN universe, because there are infinite of them and so your universe is somehow canon. Do you like it better put this way? I hope so, because then idk what else to say if not "block and scroll" the things you don't like.

Let's bless the people that actually do block and scroll the ones they don't like, instead of sending unnecessary hate, because not everyone can like the same thing! It is totally normal! But they do what it is CORRECT, so let's bless them 🙏🙏🙏🙏

#I know it is always the same deal #and I am basically saying the same things over and over #BUT BECAUSE WHAT ELSE SHOULD I SAY??#I mean- it is just obvious to do so and yet people still want to send hate #why?? FUCKING ASSHOLES IDIOTS #•🐠 answers•#jjba #jjba x oc #jjba self ship #jjba self insert

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jojosoutreocszine · 9 months

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JoJo's Outré Ocs Zine Interest Check

Thanks for checking this out!

A simple explanation of this fanzine is that it's about JoJo's Bizarre Adventure ocs whether it be just the oc or their relationship with the canon characters. The relationships can be romantic or platonic. There will be more info if there is a lot of interest.

-Jack

#jack chat #jojos outre ocs zine #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo fanart #jojo oc #jojo original character #jjba x oc

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love-overdrive · 7 days

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Crayon Drawings

Summary: Haruno is surprised when he opens the door to see a random American girl waiting outside one day. Although they're supposedly related, Haruno isn't too keen on sharing his room with her or getting too comfortable with her. But... maybe this new girl isn't all that bad. Even if neither of them can speak the same language.

Relationship: Platonic! Giorno Giovanna/Haruno Shiobana x OC (gen-no romance)

Rating: SFW

Word Count: ~2.1k

Notes: light swearing from Giorno's stepfather, Giorno's backstory, language misunderstandings, but overall pretty light? If you don't think about it too hard. Just enjoy the way Mary and Giorno first met as kids. Since this is from when they were kids, Giorno will be referred to as "Haruno" here.

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged whenever I post future works <3!

“I’ll never forget what you did for me.”

Those words repeated in Haruno’s ears for many years to come. Helping that man from the street reaped rewards his young mind could not even comprehend. Suddenly, his stepfather had stopped harassing and hitting him. The neighborhood boys would no longer mock his heritage and instead invited him to sit beside them. He was able to enjoy free scoops of gelato that he otherwise would not have been able to afford.

To the five year old Haruno, this was practically a dream come true- all thanks to that gangster.

What he never could have expected, ever, in his dreams, was what had happened a few days after his sixth birthday.

There was a knock at the door. Haruno waited, wondering if it was another of his stepfather’s “friends” coming to visit. The knocking continued, making Haruno curious as to why his stepfather wasn’t getting it. He sighed, put his book down, and went to get the door.

He opened the door, raising a brow when he saw a young girl outside with a suitcase beside her. The girl was a lot taller than him, with sunkissed skin and freckles adoring her face. Her hair was dark brown and wavy at the bottom, the top of it clipped back with many different butterfly clips. She had on small gold hoops and was chewing gum loudly with an awkward expression. She didn’t look to be from here. She cocked her head when she saw Haruno and pulled out an envelope from the large front pocket of her jean overalls.

“So, uh, is this where I’m supposed to be?” She asked in English, fidgeting with a gold necklace around her neck. Haruno realized that the necklace said something, but it was not with any letters from the Roman alphabet. It looked to be a bunch of curvy circles and lines with two diamonds at the bottom of one the lines. Not something he had ever seen before. He was obviously too entranced with her necklace to respond, making the girl bend down to him slightly and wave her hand in front of his face.

“Hello? Come on, am I at the right place?” she repeated in English, although with an exhausted tone. Haruno didn’t understand, giving her a far out look in response. She seemed to realize her mistake and huffed while pulling out a small flashcard. “Uh… ciao!”

“Ciao…” Haruno said back quietly. The girl swallowed.

“I am… supposed to … stay here,” she explained in the best Italian she could muster from the card. “I am… new sister.”

“I don’t have a sister,” Haruno responded, about to shut the door on her. Must be another scam. Or the wrong address.

“W-wait!” She cried, stopping the door from fully being closed, then spoke in English again. “I’m supposed to be here!”

The commotion caused Haruno’s stepfather to grumble and walk down the stairs. “What the hell did you do this time, huh, Haruno?” He began before freezing upon seeing the girl. “And who the hell are you?”

The girl sighed loudly and just held out the large envelope to him. It was addressed to him, making him wonder what this all was about. “If your boss is makin’ a kid come out to extort me, well, I gotta say, that’s a new low-” he ranted before he gasped. His eyes scanned over the letter inside and he gulped. He stared in shock at the girl then reread the letter again. He repeated this a few more times before chuckling nervously and moving himself and Haruno to the side. “Come in, come in.”

“What are you-”

“Quiet, you,” his stepfather threatened. The girl lugged her bag with her and stood in the middle of the small house, looking around the living room as if it were an alien land. His stepfather gestured to the girl.

“Haruno, this is apparently your half-sister. From your dad, I guess. She’ll be staying with us from now on,” he explained. “How the hell am I supposed to afford another mouth, huh, jackass?”

Haruno’s eyes widened while his stepfather continued to grumble at the letter. “Half-sister?”

“Yeah, something about her being from America and shit. Whatever, she can deal with you.”

He shoved the letter at Haruno, before walking off, leaving the two supposed siblings alone. Well, now that he knew she was from America, it explained why she looked so different and could barely speak any Italian. The girl fidgeted before pointing at where his stepfather went.

“Father?” She asked.

“Stepfather,” he corrected, although she scratched her cheek slightly, making him assume she couldn’t understand that either. He decided to make it a bit easier for her by nodding. “Yes, father.”

The girl’s eyes lightened as she nodded, happy she finally understood something. “My… my name is! My name is Mariam,” she started. Haruno thought the way she said her name was pretty, sounding similarly like the Italian he was used to hearing. She flinched for a second then coughed. “No, uh, my name is Mary.”

“Mary.” She nodded again at him, giving him a small thumbs up. He pointed to himself.

“Haruno.”

“Haruno,” she repeated, curling her r’s. He never thought most Americans could do that, from what he heard of the normal American tourists, at least.

“Am so happy to be here,” Mary tried to say. It was awkward and clunky, but she was trying, making Haruno feel somewhat sympathetic to her. He didn’t respond back, since, frankly, he knew nothing about her. It wouldn’t exactly be honest to say he was happy to see her in his house. Who knew what she could do to ruin the good fortune he was having this time around.

“Hey! Haruno!” His stepfather yelled, breaking Haruno from his thoughts. “Show her upstairs. You and that girl can share a room.” “W-what? Why?” Haruno asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice he was not afraid to express now thanks to his guaranteed protection.

“Because I said so, that’s why. There’s no other place in this house. You’re a damn kid anyways, you can share.”

Haruno wanted to argue that technically, there was that guest room no one used, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He already was on thin ice. Haruno glanced to Mary with a defeated expression and made an arm movement to have her follow him. She did so and followed him up the stairs, the luggage banging against it with every step. He showed her the room and Mary noticed a bed.

She smiled at seeing the bed before understanding from the size and objects in the room that this was for Haruno, not her. She deflated slightly, before mumbling a quick ‘thank you’. She unzipped her bag and removed a blanket to lay on the floor a bit away from the bed. Mary looked back at Haruno, as if asking for his permission.

Not like he could object, so he nodded and sat on his bed- his bed, for him, not her.

There were no extra pillows around, so Mary grabbed a bunch of her clothes and bundled it together, tossing it on the floor to make a makeshift pillow. She then rested her head on the poor excuse of a pillow and covered herself in the thin blanket, adjusting herself to get a feel for how her new life on this wooden floor would be.

It hurt like hell.

Not like she could object to this anyways.

She sat back up and folded the blanket away, before biting her lip, unsure of what to say. She then snapped her fingers and brought out a small book and flipped through its pages.

“Ah, um, I am… ten… years old,” she squinted as she read the page. “I like… to… draw!”

He shrugged and went along with it. “I am six. What can you draw?”

She flipped through the book frantically, making Haruno just grab a notebook and spare red crayon he had lying about. He tapped the crayon against the page and Mary hesitantly took the crayon and notepad. She tapped the crayon against her chin before she began drawing, scratching the paper with every stroke. She proudly showed off her crude drawing of a cat juggling.

Haruno’s eyes widened in amazement. He could barely draw a circle, but she drew many of them! Mary giggled and then flipped to another page. She pondered what to do next before she snickered and made a large circle on the page. On the top of the circle, she made a tiny dot and then flipped the notebook to him, unable to contain her laughter.

He wasn’t sure what was funny about it until she pointed at the small circle and yelled, “fat cat!”

His brief knowledge of English took him a second to process it before he pointed at the circle with her. “Fat cat?”

“Mhm! It’s soooo fat, it takes up the whole page!” She laughed, expanding her hands wide. Haruno didn’t know why, but the way she laughed caught his interest. It sounded nicer than when his stepfather laughed cruelly or when his mother had laughed dryly. Or when the adults outside laughed due to social norms, or when the schoolchildren laughed mockingly at him.

Mary just sounded genuine to him compared to the others. It was a pretty laugh.

Mary didn’t notice his staring, instead focusing on her drawing with her back turned to him. Haruno tried to peek over her shoulder but she shook her head.

“No, no, wait! I can’t show you yet!” She said, despite him not knowing English. He could parse her ‘no’, though, so he stayed still and waited patiently.

After a few moments, she excitedly showed off her drawing of two small people. One was a girl with long lines for hair, with pretty eyelashes, a crown, a dress, and heels. The other was a boy who looked smaller, with a square shirt with buttons and long pants. The boy had hair drawn similarly to Haruno’s and wore a big crown. All around them were random things like butterflies, a bush, a horrible looking tree with what he assumed were fruits on it, a “castle” in the background, and even random birds and squirrels.

On the top, in bad Italian, was “my brother.”

Haruno gasped at this drawing, pointing at the picture of the boy then himself. Mary nodded and Haruno softened. He gestured for the crayon and Mary gave it to him. He grabbed the notebook from her and Mary whined when she saw him begin to use the crayon on top of her art.

“Hey!”

However, Giorno flipped the book back to her and showed her that nothing from her art was changed. The only thing he did was fix was the small phrase she wrote.

“It’s ‘my little brother’, like this. Not like that,” he explained as he showed her the extra letters he added to correct it. She took note of it and grinned as she read out the Italian slowly.

“My little brother. Haruno.”

Haruno did wonder why she was so quick to refer to him as her little brother, given they had only barely met a bit ago. It did feel nice to be referred to like that, but something in him was telling him to not be too open right now. She was still an unknown variable in his life.

Mary didn’t notice him reflecting on her and instead was busy playing with a strand of hair. Haruno stared at the shiny, plastic butterfly clips she had on her head.

“Butterfly,” he stated, hoping she’d understand. Mary popped the bubble she blew from her gum then took off one of her clips.

“You want it?” She asked, handing it to him. He didn’t know what she was trying to accomplish, before she instead leaned over and brushed aside some of his black hair. She clipped the butterfly a bit above his ear and grinned. “Tada! Bella!”

She looked so proud of herself for clipping his hair and using that word that he couldn’t help but let out a grin.

“Yes… bella,” Haruno agreed.

Mary clapped and had a wide smile on her face, finally looking more happy than when she first arrive. It’s a nice smile, too, Haruno thought.

#my writing #jjba #jjba oc #mary 5 #jojo oc #mary giovanna #giorno giovanna #giorno giovanna x oc #platonic self ship #platonic #self shipping #self ship community #selfship community #self ship #my oc #jjba x oc

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kazenomegaminowanpisu · 11 months

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Art commission for @thetiredasthmatic

#art commission #art commission for someone #commission still open #JJBA x Oc #JJBA fan art #anime art

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ihavenousernamewhyy · 1 year

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Photograph of child Jotaro and child (Y/n) in preschool.

Child (y/n) looking like an ANKLE BITER EWWWWWW. (Lol okay so I say this in every art post I’ve made but (y/n) is drawn as an OC based on me since it’s just easier that way and is more fun and personal for me teehee).

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dragkbluire · 2 days

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It is I! The Wizzzaaaaard!

. . .

No one knew how they had gotten here. One minute, they were all together on Venice, then next, all were in a large maze the stone walls tall as skyscrapers, and the stone constantly shifting, grinding against the ground that was a mix of broken cobble and moss, and the occasional weeds.

Giorno had tryed to turn the wall into a living thing, yet Golden Experience's ability failed. Narancia tryed to use Aerosmith yet it failed to appear and not even Bruno's zippers budged. Something was wrong.

The group was running through the maze, making sure to not loose sight of anyone, rushing into they made it to a clearing, a small feild of grass and a hill with a blossoming Wisteria tree and a small pond. It was. . .unsettling. The group sighed and sat down, trying to figure out what was happening, unaware of the small purple fairy with the hat of a witch flying high up to atop the wall to a man in rush clothing and a skull on his face, skin dark and black like a demon. The fairy flittered infront of the man.

"Oh brother! this is incredible! The plan is working!" The Wizard exclaimed, wings making the sounds of bells as she flittered her wings excited. She flew atop his head and sat on his head, giggling. "Oh I cannot wait! the fun is about to begin!"

"Si. . ." *the man said, looking down at the group. "This will be fun en efecto. . ."

"No one knew how they had gotten here. One minute, they were all together on Venice, then next, all were in a large maze the stone walls tall as skyscrapers, and the stone constantly shifting, grinding against the ground that was a mix of broken cobble and moss, and the occasional weeds."

"rushing into they made it to a clearing, a small feild of grass and a hill with a blossoming Wisteria tree and a small pond. It was. . .unsettling."

HOW DID YOU KNOW I LOVE THESE KIND OF PLACES????

Also I did this!!!

I couldn't stop my hand from doing it vhyegfvhjdfbvdfvhbjdkf

I always imagine you like the Zelda kind of fairy (I've always thought that is the most beautiful kind of fairy.

I had to do it fast because, well, I still have homework ...

SAVE ME FROM HOMEWORK!!!

I loved it so so so so so so so much!!!!

Part 2? :D?

#ask #the ancient writer the wizard #jjba?#jjba x oc

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rob-c02 · 8 months

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Days: 6 -drawing eachother and 7 -romantic dinner at McDonald's;

I'm late sorry;

Also, day 7 was Brazil's independence day :D so.. happy late 7 de setembro!

#my art #selfshiptember #selfshiptember2023 #self ship #oc x canon #self insert #sdv farmer #elliott sdv #sdv elliott #stardew valley elliott #farmer anna #sdv elliot x farmer #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo stardust crusaders #jean pierre polnareff #jjba oc #jjba polnareff #jjba x oc

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jellyluchi · 10 months

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Subtlety

A/N: Just a little fic because I haven't written Prosciutto x Focaccia in a hot minute!

Pairing: Prosciutto x Focaccia Genre: NSFW. Content warnings: clothed sex, cowgirl, piv sex Summary: Prosciutto comes home to finds his wife reading and wants to initiate some play time.

In the wake of his arrival home, Prosciutto is not surprised to find a quiet solitude residing within the walls. It’s just as he had left it that morning. During most of these trips that keeps him away from home he’s more enthusiastic about his return than about his departure. This yearning could only be attributed to one presence that has dominated his home for quite some time; the presence he must seek for right away. Usually, she would be greeting him at the door but it has come to his attention that something has been keeping her occupied as of late.

Discarding his jacket on the way, he makes for the bedroom where he’s most likely to find his wife. If not there, surely the kitchen would be his first guess. But noticing the dead lights above the small space he knows that’s deserted. That does not, however, deem the kitchen completely useless. Seeing a small trail of cookie crumbs leading from the doorway to the hall is the final hint he needs.

Smirking to himself and nearly snickering with delight, Prosciutto rolls his sleeves as if preparing to greet the love of his life for the first time; a sentiment he carries whenever he has to be away from her for long. Approaching the room in question, he inches closer to the doorknob intending to open it right away, only to be stopped by a particular sound.

“It’s so close… oh so close!” A desperate voice rings from inside the enclosed door, shielding him from seeing whatever happens inside. The only clue remains the dim light illuminating from the space between the entrance and the floor. Prosciutto’s eyes widen and he feels a sharp, electric shock course through his nerves. What is Focaccia doing?

Should he leave? Should he stay and listen? Would he be interrupting her…? Yet his feet feel planted deep within the ground, an unnatural force keeping him in place. He must continue listening.

“Ohhhh yeah…. Ahhh…” Attuned to the sound of his wife’s voice, Prosciutto could not mistake those noises if he wanted to. A deep blush adorns his cheeks as his brain naturally conjures images that contextualize what he hears: Focaccia with her legs spread, fingers deep within herself, thinking, wishing it were him instead. It makes his heart pound, the sound ringing in his ears as Prosciutto stifles a groan, trying to focus his lidded eyes. With a hand on the wall to steady himself, he listens for more.

How pathetic,he thinks, listening to his own wife pleasure herself while he stands getting blue balled. Would it be too much to disturb her… Is she having fun without him… Can he join in? He would more than make up for his interruption with his mouth if he has to… Deciding to brave his self-doubt, he knocks the door a few times.

“Honey?” Her sweet voice carries through the heavy wood.

“May I come in?” He asks, looking down at himself to make sure there are no hints of an erection to conceal.

“Of course, you’re back already?”

At her affirmation, Prosciutto pushes the entrance open, finding his wife in bed with a book.

“How was the trip? Did you finish all your business?” She asks, rather cheerfully.

“Yes…” He gives her a puzzled look that she barely notices, going back to her reading within moments.

“That’s great, baby. There’s dinner in the fridge if you’d still like it, I know it’s not time just yet…” But the words are muffled as he tries to decipher what he heard.

“What are you doing, my love?” Prosciutto inquires, deciding to be direct.

“I was just reading this novel,” Focaccia says, showing him the cover before returning to whatever story that has her captivated.

“Ah…” The conversation isn’t fruitful and he disappointedly does not get to wet his dick like he’d hoped. Sighing at his own foolishness, Prosciutto thinks of the dinner in the fridge, prepared with love by his wife and how much it needs to be in his belly. Leaving the door open, he nearly makes it out of the hallway before he hears the noise again.

“Fuck yeah…”

Prosciutto cannot simply be hearing things. Either his wife his hiding a dildo under the covers and fucking herself in secret or he needs release desperately. Thinking to spy on her, he watches from his spot through the small opening of the doorway where she still sits, the act of intruding on her privacy keenly awakening his senses. But she makes no move under the duvet, not even her arm jerking in suspicious motions.

Focaccia coos at her book, gazing at the words intensely. The entire afternoon she spent reading in bed was worth it. The stories are always so sensual and arousing it makes her look forward to the next time she would sleep with her husband. But with his preoccupation towards work, she’s left to fantasize on her own and aid her imaginings with silly romance novellas. Yet, it wouldn’t hurt to ask him for a tryst after he’s had dinner, she thinks.

With disbelieving eyes, Prosciutto watches his wife read, the noises still leaving her lips every now and then. She’s not even touching herself, he thinks; only to realize… he ought to do it for her then. The yearning in his blood runs hot enough to make him devour her instead; He’s not sure what holds him back. Forfeiting the thought of dinner altogether, Prosciutto undoes the ascot and returns to his bedroom, not hesitating to sit right beside his beloved. She barely seems to register his presence before his arms find her waist and his lips discover her shoulder.

“Oh!” She yelps, putting away her reading immediately, and he satisfies himself with the thought of finally having her attention. Prosciutto does not yield himself from the images that haunt his mind anymore, of Focaccia panting beneath him and of her flesh squeezed deliciously against his body. His cock twitches from within and he has to keep the urge to buck his hips at bay.

In seconds, Focaccia’s surprised gasp turns into giggles, her husband’s lips tickling her neck and his hand caressing softly under her shirt. It seems he is in dire need of attention and she’s happy to oblige after his routined absence.

“Did you miss me a lot, baby?”she coos, her hand meeting his cheek in an affectionate caress. Oh how happy it makes her to call this man her hubby!

Prosciutto grunts in response, no longer in the mood for teasing. Gently but with swift and decisive hands, he scoops her into his lap. His densely furrowed brows are what greet her first, the shining blues next, and the needy pout of his lips last.

Nuzzling him as affectionately as she straddles his legs, Focaccia gives him what he’s wanted at long last. A kiss to welcome him home. It’s tender but not chaste, and much much slower than he would like. But with each suckle of his lips, Prosciutto steps closer to a wonderful madness. It’s not that he was miles from home when he needed to finish his errands yet their reunions ignite a fire within him that encompasses a thousand absences.

With urgent hands and a restless energy that plagues his very soul, Prosciutto gropes and grabs his way under her clothing, every inch of skin warmer than the last. There is not enough time to explore every hidden secret of her body before he will lose his mind from needing to be inside her snug walls.

Though she is accustomed to Prosciutto’s habitual state of neediness every now and then, Focaccia finds herself surprised at his vigor. The rate at which he tugs at her shirt before having her take it off entirely is alarming. It’s fortunate that she forwent any bras that day. When his mouth collides with her collarbones in soft, wet kisses, she’s reduced to begging.

“Patrizio…” She pleads and Prosciutto decides he likes this sound more than the ones that aroused him. Ignoring the hopeless throbbing between his legs, Prosciutto gives her a silent response, his hand squeezing her sides while his mouth kisses to the valley between her breasts. How many times has he found sanctuary right above her beating heart?

The rhythmic thumping accompanies Focaccia’s moans beautifully, and Prosciutto realizes he will never find a symphony so perfect anywhere else. Finally allowing himself to bask in her taste, he kisses the vast expanse of one breast before taking the nipple into his mouth, groaning from the soft texture. Lightning strikes within his veins and Prosciutto swears his body is abuzz with electricity.

Slender fingers play with her other nipple in unison, eliciting delectable little sparks in Focaccia’s belly, further wetting her between her legs. Squeezing her thighs together, she wills herself not to grind right over her husband’s crotch and fails miserably. But his groans into her breast in response to her movements only seek to stir the knot inside. Panting for breath, Focaccia’s gaze turns downwards where she meets the oceanic view of her Prosciutto’s eyes. His irises swim with lust and she’s unable to comprehend the insatiable depth of his desires.

Savoring the taste of her skin and moaning at the silky texture, Prosciutto succumbs to his thoughts. His wife, for him and only him to enjoy. The deep blue of his eyes reflect every ounce of arduous possessiveness that wracks through his being, making him impatient. Unable to take much longer of his uncomfortable pants, Prosciutto hands leave the warmth of Focaccia’’s skin, temporarily fumbling with his belt.

When her hands converge with his halfway, he halts as if a virginal boy exposing himself for the first time. The pure pinkness of his cheeks never leaving him, he silently lets her unzip the bulging fabric. And when his eyes encounter her warm browns, he’s met with a crystal clear reflection of himself, twinkling amongst a dark galaxy. Her face embellished with a sweet smile, Focaccia is gentle and steady with her fingers, dexterously allowing her husband’s erection to come forth from his trousers.

“Cazzo…” Prosciutto curses under his breath, the delicate digits of her hands nearly bringing him to climax. A few strokes into their playtime Prosciutto’s legs writhe with pleasure as Focaccia’s hands are equally sticky from precum. “Take it off,” he demands, clawing at her pajamas with a bone chilling tone, his words purely driven by lust.

She complies without another word, shimmying the pair down her legs enough for him to peek at her panties. Eager from her teasing fingers, Prosciutto forces her legs despite the elastic band of the pj’s sticking to her thighs, trying to make his hips fit into the gap while pushing the crotch of her underwear aside.

“They’ll tear!” She cries, having no choice but to assent with his sudden decision. Balancing herself by his shoulder, she tries to push the pajamas down further before she hears the inevitable sound of tearing fabric, only to be impaled with an abrupt intrusion.

“I'll buy you new ones," Prosciutto promises, but it's not enough to alleviate the uncomfortable pressure on her thighs. Yelping from invasion into her core, Focaccia tries to ignore uneasy restrictions, focusing completely on the girth that fills her. Every ridge, every curve of his cock sets her walls flaming.

Finally, he thinks, relishing in the warmth of her snug pussy. He hasn’t even pushed himself in completely, yet he feels the release near with every second. Involuntarily, a loud groan escapes him as he tries to sink deeper. Vitality surges between his bones as he thinks of how much he loves her to her very essence; how he came to be utterly possessed by this quirky woman who speaks to herself and makes strange noises when she reads.

Sensing her discomfort, Prosciutto stretches the flimsy fabric pulled taught by the heavy thighs of his wife, ripping them to feel her muscles convulse quicker around him. With no limitations to stop him, he allows himself to pound into her, forcing her to meet every thrust with a bounce.

“Patrizio!” She cries in a high pitched moan, her eyes shut tight from the overwhelming stimulation. Squeezing the ample flesh of her ass, he grits his teeth to thrust faster, the mind numbing sensation conquering his body completely. Mindless fingers map their way onto her clit, as he kisses atop her breasts, roaming circles over the nub.

Nails digging into her husband’s shoulders, Focaccia submits utterly to the gut wrenching pleasure, gushing around him with fervor and a cry of his name. She nearly loses herself, bucking her hips wildly to his rhythm. Warm fluid shoots into her womb and Prosciutto reaches his high subsequently. “Sei così fottutamente stupendo,” he declares in a soft murmur. Despite his memories failing him, Focaccia still remembers them as the words he told her on their first time.

As the tension in their legs gives away, Prosciutto finds himself falling sideways into bed with her, the energy to sit leaving his body. Still clinging to her husband’s upper half, Focaccia pants into his hair, giving him an affectionate kiss to the temple.

“Ruined a good pair of pajamas, you did,” she tells him, pulling away to see the smirk plastered to his lips.

“Should I go buy a pair right now?” He teases, pulling with a groan. “No! Stay!” Focaccia pleads, caging his frame in her arms. Now he’s home.

commissions [OPEN]❤️‍🔥support my work

#prosciutto #jjba x oc #prosciutto x focaccia #prosciutto x oc #selfship stuff #selfship n sfw #focaccia fics #fics #n sfw #sid writes #focaccia stuff

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rhaemaya-valwynn · 1 month

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I wanna share this wonderful art @ahoge-fish did for me! (Their account is still lost but I want to give credit where credit is due)

Honestly, getting art from her has helped me a lot in terms of everything that's happened lately, so thank you, Ahoge. Truly.

#jotaro kujo #jjba oc #synth #jjba x oc #star platinum #oc x canon #voidwalker

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ahoge-fish · 1 year

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I think that Cesca and Mellobuns were the JoJo X OC creators who got mostly harassed by the haters + Mello deleted her account because of it 😔 I hope Cesca is doing well now.

Yeah I think so too, oh poor girls :( Their content was and still be very very VERY good and they as people are such sweethearts!!💖💖💖 Istg if it was possible I'd take in a fight every single one of those assholes that made them feel bad >:(((

I MAY NOT BE SCARY BUT I AM NOT SCARED AT ALL OF THEM!!

Also from the reblogs I see of this post , I saw how many people sadly got unfair hate AND THIS MAKES ME SO FUCKING MAD FJSBFHSBFJSNDJD

Istg I wanna have all of those haters in front of me and give them a VERY BIG SLAP THAT WILL MAKE THEIR HEAD TURN AROUND!! (my mom's word, god in english they sound awful HAHA)

#•🐠 answers•#jjba x oc #jjba self ship #jjba self insert

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strawberryvanillablast · 1 year

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The Ghosts In The Machine (Giorno Giovanna x Bria Adal)

This is for Giorno Giovanna Month 2023 from @mrsgiovanna!

Prompt: Meet Cute.

To Bruno Bucciarati, Giorno Giovanna was a charismatic young man who held the same ideals as he did. Young and fresh, he would make a great soldato within his team. Of course, there would be the matter of his other team members trusting Giorno, but that would come.

Of course, unknown to Bruno Bucciarati, he was being observed as well. And not just by Giorno Giovanna. Unbeknownst to the two, the mind of Giorno Giovanna was run by two very busy people (three for counting Gold Experience).

"Ugh," A lower-pitched version of Giorno's voice grunted. "Can this go by any slower?"

The owner of this voice looked almost like Giorno, complete with the blonde hair. However, his eyes were red in color along with his entire outfit. Two small devil wings fluttered impatiently while a long-forked tail thrashed about. He rubbed the horns sticking out of his head in a grumpy fashion as he looked out of Giorno's eyes.

"Ah, ah, ah," A higher-pitched version of Giorno's voice chided. "Let us be patient, Devil Giorno."

This version of Giorno was decked out in blue, from his dark-blue hair to his big sparkling eyes to his outfit. Two small angel wings fluttered slowly as his little halo shone a little. He gave a smile as he looked out at the many people dining.

"But for how long will it be before we meet this team? I need action, Angel Giorno, and I want it now!"

Before Angel Giorno could properly answer, the two Giornos jumped as two loud voices screamed at each other. Devil Giorno grinned and pumped his fist in the air while Angel Giorno shook his head, sighing.

"Let me introduce you," Bruno Bucciarati said sternly. "This is Giorno Giovanna."

Giorno's eyes sweeped over the team. Devil Giorno scoffed as he just looked over at Angel Giorno, who was excited at meeting new friends in this team. Suddenly, Giorno's eyes landed on one member of Team Buccellati and the two gasped.

This team member was absolutely beautiful.

Her black hair shone in the fluorescent light while her eyes beautifully sparkled. The sound of her voice was melodious and the smile gently adorning her lips was gracefully elegant. She wore a wonderful outfit that made her seem like a movie star rather than a gangstar.

"Well, well, well," Devil Giorno purred, tail flicking about curiously. "Who's the cutie over there?" He grinned as he leaned over a little. "My, oh, my, hello there, my dear."

"Hang on now," Angel Giorno whispered. "Firstly, we should introduce ourselves to her and the others before we do anything else. We must make a good first impression on them!"

"I'm Giorno Giovanna," The young man introduced, bowing slightly. "It's a pleasure to meet you all."

Bria smiled as Giorno introduced himself politely. He looked like a prince, with his shimmering blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. And he was so polite too, just like a prince right out of a fairytale!

'I wonder what he likes,' Bria thought to herself as Giorno sat down on an empty chair. 'Well, best to introduce myself. Seems only fair!'

"Hi," She gently smiled, outstretching a hand. "I'm Bria. Bria Adal."

"It's nice to meet you." He smiled right back, returning the handshake firmly.

"Want some cake," Bria smiled. "It's strawberry shortcake."

"Thank you." Giorno graciously accepted.

"Agh, come on," Devil Giorno nearly pulled his hair out in frustration. "When can I actually spend time with this cutie? I want to kiss those lips!"

"Mind your manners," Angel Giorno reproached. "This cutie is named Bria and we'd do well to respect her. She's more than just a pretty girl here."

"I'm respecting her," Devil Giorno scoffed. "I'm respecting her beauty, her grace, her elegance."

"Before we can do so, we need to get to know her. What does she like and what does she think of frogs and ladybugs?"

As the duo giggled and pondered on what to talk to Bria about next, they didn't notice their Stand shaking his head with a fond smile. As Gold Experience raised an eyebrow at what Abbacchio was trying to do and signaled the duo about the action, he noticed a glass sphere forming. He walked over to it, curious.

It was a beautiful, pink-tinted glass sphere with Bria's visage inside. The Stand gave another fond smile and shake of the head. Giorno's fallen for the girl slowly, whether he consciously knew it or not. And Gold Experience knew that this crush would blossom into a sweetly wondrous love soon.

#jojo bizarre adventure #jojo kimyou na bouken #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jjba part 5 #jojo part 5 #vento aureo #golden wind #giorno giovanna #bria adal #giorno month 2023 #giorno giovanna x oc #giorno x oc #jjba x oc #bruno buccellati #bruno bucciarati #leone abbacchio

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