I apologize, for a lack of updates: but I have been suffering from some pretty server burnout and writer's block. Not to mention, my mental health has been in the toilet.
So: take these half-baked prompts and little drabbles
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[ “Stop! You’re gonna hurt yourself!” ]
He furrowed his brows as he watched the blonde reach into the rose bush, once more, without the gardening gloves he had offered him on. Jonathan sighs deeply, and he watches carefully as Dio picks up the clippers and goes to cut the dead buds off - only to see a splash of red forming on his fingers.
He jumps from his seat. “Stop! You’ll hurt yourself cutting the roses without gloves.”
The blonde sneers,” Do I look like I care JoJo? I don’t need your filthy gloves...they don’t even fit anyways.”
“Then, let me do it-” Dio scuffs cutting the bluenette off.
“You? Doing manual labor of any kind - as if.”
Jonathan pouts deeply, but he leaves the blonde be: returning to doodling birds in his notebook. He hears Dio let out a small hiss of pain, as he pricks himself on another rose thorn.
[ “Hey! Wait you’re still bleeding!” ]
Jean tossed the cigarette from his lips, sighing as he crushed the half-burnt stub beneath his boot. “Let’s go and meet the others - I’m sure they’re terribly worried.”
Jotaro nods, and he moves away from the wall - wincing: while the emergency Speedwagon workers they called did a good job closing the wound in his stomach, it still hurt like hell. He could hardly move without it sending searing pain through his entire being. He was just grateful nothing vital had been damaged. “Yeah - let’s go.”
“Wait!” The French-man stops the tall teenager, who blinks at him as he produces a cute-pink bandaid, the cute nurse from the Foundation had given it to Polernaff for good luck. He just now noticed that Jotaro had a cut on his face. “You’re still bleeding.”
Jotaro pulls away as best he can, “It’s just a small cut on my cheek - relax.”
Polneraff rolls his eyes, “I’m not going to let you run around bleeding to death! Here!” He presses the bandaid carefully over Jotaro’s cheek, covering the small cut. “All better!”
The Joestar sighs and he tilts his hat down. “Good grief…Thanks.”
[ “There was so much blood…” ]
⚠️gore mentions⚠️
The therapist took a deep breath, she had been hired specifically by the Speedwagon Foundation to deal with Stand Users - but that never made her job any easier. The things these people went through, especially at young ages - shocked her to her core. The client before her especially wounded her with his stories.
She fiddles with her clipboard trying to despite some of her nerves. “Alright, Josuke - tell me how he died again.” she swallows. “Recalling the event in a safe space helps with the healing process. Remember, take your time - and breath.”
Josuke swallowed hard, and he runs a hand through his unstyled hair - he hasn’t touched it in months. “There was so much blood...a hole was - it was blown straight through him- He-”
The doctor swallows, “Take your time.”
Pass-By
⚠️stalking & obsession ⚠️
He had never seen someone like him. Plenty of people passed by his apartment every day, and he wasn’t sure why this one man stuck out so much. Perhaps it was because he always walked by before the morning rush, and after everyone else in the evening had left as well. He was always the first to walk by and the last. The man was stunning, with soft dark locks of hair that gently curled about his head cut-short and slicked back usually. His eyes were bright ocean color greens and blues swirling together to make a crystal-like appearance. He was built, in the sense that most people stayed clear of him afraid he was the kind of man to punch a stranger. He’d win the fight too. Yet, despite his looks - he didn’t walk with confidence he was usually hunched over: as if he didn’t wish to be seen.
His clothes were always so different and strange, his taste was something Noriaki couldn’t quite pin down. Though: there were three constants in his outfits. A hat of some kind, a jacket - and belts. The redhead wanted to talk to him so badly, but he was just - such an awkward man. He didn’t even know how he would start the conversation!
Hey! I’ve been watching you walk past my apartment religiously for six months!
It didn’t click in his brain that his behavior was abnormal. That watching someone walk at the same time every day was not very moral. Noriaki didn’t have a sense of what was right or wrong. That’s why his video games do so well - they’re always so dark and greusome. For years, he’s filtered his loud and abrasive intrusive thoughts into the games - until this man. He’s been dreaming of him. Of doing, horrible things to him. And sometimes, sweet - lovely things. Kakyoin can hardly describe his desire - if that is the word for it. So, no. He’d never be able to approach him. He wipes the sweat off of his brow as he thinks: for the tenth time today about that man. His AC has been busted for weeks and it’s a particularly hot day.
The dark-haired man always wears jackets though. Even on days like this. Kakyoin wonders why. To hide something? Is it because the man feels the need to cover himself in order for nobody to see in? His thoughts are a bit scattered by his alarm going off: it’s time. He leaps up from his cramped desk and he runs towards the window. He aggressively rips the blinds open, and there he is. A sweet sigh escapes his lips, always on time. Noriaki settles himself in the windowsill watching as he passes: in a few moments he’s out of sight.
Today he was wearing blue. A suiting color for him. The redhead feels his heart slightly quiver, and let out a whimper as the man vanishes from his line of sight. He’s only there for a few seconds. Kakyoin groans and he stands. He approaches his living room, everything in his apartment to another would look like a mess - but the scattered paint supplies all have a place among the clutter. He grabs the ones he needs today: it will be a fine addition to his documentation. Behind him covering nearly all of his walls are the man: painting of him from every day - outfits cycling every thirty or so. Today had been a brand new one. A grin is playing across his features as he sketches: at first, it had been so hard to get his features right, but now it came naturally. As if his hands knew every dip and curve of his face.
He grabbed his black paint and frowned. He was out. “Damnit…”
Noriaki hated going outside - outside it was too loud. Too many people who can watch him make mistakes, too many people who are so-so ugly. The man is the only beautiful thing in this world. He stands and grabs his hoodie that was slung across the back of his couch, pulling it on over his carefully choosen outfit. He wore these clothes for only him. Not the world. He steps out of his apartment and swallows thickly his hands twitching at his sides as he taps his fingers against his legs. He spins around after locking his door. His breath seems to leave his body - standing there: is him.
The man speaks, his words gently slurred: his blue eyes are glassy - he is drunk. “Do you-u, ah, know where I am? I don’t think I’m where I’m supposed to be…?” He blinks and shakes his head, black locks bouncing. “Sorry-y, I’m ah- Jotaro Kujo. Do you know where the - um…? 5th Avenue is? I live there.”
Kakyoin knows he should respond, but, he doesn’t think he can breathe anymore. He stares for a few more moments, and a wide grin comes across his features. “You don’t look so well, Jotaro - maybe you should stay here for the night. I can help you get home in the morning.”
Jotaro furrows his brows, looking grateful. “Really? I-I wouldn’t want to be a bother though…” he stumbled forward nearly falling, and Noriaki moved to catch him - his heartbeat skyrocketing in his chest.
“It’s not a problem at all, I’ll be happy to have you.” The redhead slowly unlocks his door again and leads the man inside, not believing his luck. Jotaro slumps onto his couch as he’s dumped there, and he glances around the apartment. Even though his drunken state - he feels icy fear bolt through his being as he catches sight of the drawings. He nearly sobers up due to it. He swallows thickly and attempts to stand, but a firm hand presses him down against the couch.
The ginger’s sweet voice freezes him in place, “Where are you going? It would be rude to leave so soon!” the dark-haired man catches sight of something, grey? In the other’s hands - likely a pot of some kind: before he feels pain split through his skull - and then darkness.
Kiss Me You Asshole
⚠️jotarocest (3taro x 6taro)⚠️
⚠️sexual themes⚠️
3taro POV
He woke up in the morning - to find that he was left alone with the worst Jotaro of the bunch: 6taro. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what about the old man irritated him so much: but something did. 4taro and 5taro had decided to bounce and go off on some date. So, there he was sitting at the table - drinking a luck warm coffee. Luke warm, because he was simply too lazy or tired, a likely mix of both to reheat the pot that 4taro had left behind.
The mug in his hand, was no longer there. He looks up, to find his eldest self has taken it straight from his hands- using timestop, the bastard: and was sipping at it. 6taro's face scrunched up slightly.
"It's cold." He commented, and Jotaro scuffs.
"Doesn't mean you can take it from me." He reaches for the coffee again, only for Six to move away from him.
He smirks a bit, "I'm older than you - so, I have superiority."
Jotaro rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, "Well, I could beat your ass in a fight so, I should be in charge."
6taro gives him a side-eyed look, his one good eye filled with amusement. Which, pissed Jotaro off. This stupid old-crusty ass man doesn't even know what he's provoking. Doesn't he remember what it was like to be his 17-year-old self? The only emotions he could process were hatred. He stood and he easily slams the man against the nearest wall, considering 6taro is the smallest, build wise.
The older Jotaro stares. "Um…?"
"Don't um, me! You've been getting on my last damn nerve! So!" [Star Platinum] makes an appearance hovering over Jotaro's shoulder, ready to beat the other man to a bloody pulp - when 6taro pops off with.
"You know, usually when you slam people as hot as me into walls - you kiss them." He grabbed the teens face, who was in a bit of shock and confusion, and he pulled him into a kiss. Jotaro stood there stock still unable to move - or maybe, he didn't want to. His mind was reeling, this was wrong wasn't it? To kiss yourself. Not to mention their age-gap. Yet, he melted against 6taro, pressing him gently into the wall with his own body, kissing him back.
Jotaro heard 6taro hum a bit in it, and he took his chance to slip his tongue into his mouth. He rubbed his hips against him, unable to help himself as the kiss slowly burned into a make-out session. His hand snaked around the other's hip, and he pulled away from him a string of salvia breaking between them.
"Fuck…" He touched his lips, shocked at how he lost himself. "I- we-"
"Kissed. And it was heaven." 6taro purred out, and he grabbed the back of Jotaro's neck, bringing him back into another kiss. The teenager got a bit more hot & bothered, rubbing his growing hard-on against the elder man - aggressively almost. Jotaro couldn't believe he was being turned on by this, but as he kissed down 6taro's neck - he heard his breath hitch, and a sweet noise pull from his lips.
Jotaro pulled away panting, "This is - wrong...we shouldn't be…" his thoughts are clouded; he can't sort through them properly. He swallows, and looks at 6taro - a fatal mistake, the man's face is softly flushed and he's panting too. Blue eyes, filled with a fiery lust.
"But God, I want it…"He mumbles aloud, as he begins to leave hickeys along 6taro's neck, and collarbone - hearing the other moan softly. Jotaro groans as he feels the older man rub against him, pressing their heated lower bodies together.
Someone cleared their throat.
"Um...am I interrupting something?" It was Kakyoin, who shamefully had to admit he had been watching them go at it for some time before speaking. The only reason he even did was he was starting to shift uncomfortably in his pants.
Jotaro leapt away from Six, his entire face going red. "Not at all! We weren't doing anything. Nothing at all."
6taro puts his hands on his hips, a viscous smirk on his face. "Nothing? You were this close to fucking me right here. Don't lie boy."
Kakyoin swallows and rubs at the back of his neck, "I'll just - um, go...you guys have fun…?"
Jotaro sputters out, hardly able to manage words through his embarrassment, "Wait! We weren't - Kakyoin! I wasn't-!" 6taro was snickering behind him,and he spun on him. "Shut up! You did this old man!"
The redhead pauses, and his cheek are flaming, but he still smirks a little. "Well, if you do...want to continue: at least let me watch."
"What-?!"
Noriaki swallows. "Please?"
"No! No way! Not happening - you two are fucking perverts!"
"Pleaseeeee~?" Kakyoin tried to beg, but he was continuously shut down.
"Not happening, ever!"