#fem prosciutto

[cordylinerubra]

Just my old art with Prosciutto in different style, and crossover with "Gurren Lagann" and "Death Stranding

[mskrysta-art]

Very curious on your take on Fem! Prosciutto and also how she'll interact with Fem! Pesci

Btw love your art keep on going!! (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠❤

OMG i LOVE drawing fem Prosh really!

One of the reasons being of course designing her outfits, i really like this classy style so with every art i try to change a lil her suit design! I see her as a very feminine strong and strict woman (as Miranda in the Devil Wears Prada for example). As for Pesci i tent to change the og outfit less leaving it as in canon or adding few details so it doesn't look as plain in comparison to the others ( also it made it look like she wears an 70s-ish jumpsuit and an afghan coat which looks very different in style compared to Prosciutto's)

They have a lil similar colour palette with very different styles that makes them to me a very fun combo to draw!

I also headcanon them growing up together in orphanage and they just are stick together since. I feel like Pesci needed someone to look up to as Prosciutto, who was determined with a goal to get out of poor and miserable life as soon as possible and she needed to grow up very early. Now i see this two very similar to Lemon and Tangerine from Bullet Train movie!

like look at them and tell me im wrong

[inhumanetrash]

Prosciutto doodles

First two are of him pre-transition (can be interpreted as a fem version too Idc really) because I headcanon him to have been a famous model before joining passione and then a doodle of my boy

[oddverse]

I’ve been drawing!

[princelylove]

Hello darling prince!

Could you write something for risotto or prosciutto? Or even just la squadra in general? I adore the way you write all of the characters, they feel like real mafioso! I’d love to even just hear your thoughts on them!

Xoxoxo thank you dearest!

Suure, I can give you some your favorite diva.

Prosciutto's attitude could change entirely depending on if you're older or younger, and if you're a man or a woman (and if you're not in one of those categories, what he thinks you're closer to).

Prosciutto is a very rigid man. He likes things to be in a proper order- maybe it was how he was raised, maybe he's just like that. He has a clear idea of what a man is supposed to be- if you're younger than he is, you're still becoming a man, so you get some slack. But if you're older, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you slow? Don't be a mama's boy, it seriously pisses him off to see a grown man behave that way.

Life with Prosciutto isn't much better if you're a woman. You'd think that, oh, he's big on gender roles, maybe he'd be the type to spoil a woman! But he's not. Prosciutto would prefer his relationships to focus on himself, it doesn't matter if he's supposed to be the man in the relationship, he wants to be spoiled and pampered and lavished with praise and gifts.

Also, he's flat broke. The boss is lowballing him. Not like he could spoil his darling even if he wanted to. He blows most of his salary on expenses for the apartment, and uses the money he gets from modeling for the same thing- repairs, raising the quality of life- he resents the fact that he's the only one putting in the work to make this fuckin' apartment any better. He's very picky about his own possessions because he's putting in extra work to obtain them- when one of those little shits break one of his nice glasses, he has every reason to get upset.

Prosciutto disciplines the rest of the team in place of Risotto, as I've mentioned in the past (I think literally in my last post.) He normally gives physical or verbal punishments. If you're bad or talk to him in a way he doesn't like, you're getting beat on the spot. For his darling, Prosciutto often forgets that he isn't their superior, and reflexively does the same for them. He doesn't feel much guilt after- you were bad, so you got punished. You shouldn't have given him an attitude if you didn't want to be slapped for it.

When I gender swap Prosciutto, (s)he becomes a very stereotypically feminine woman, and expects her partner to take up the man's role, even if they themself aren't a man. I see her as being feminine rather than truly masculine because Prosciutto himself isn't truly masculine, he's just operating under "This is how I'm supposed to be acting." If you look at his behavior alone, his personality is something closer to a diva that isn't getting her way, so she acts out. The typical spoiled trophy wife that received a new bag instead of another car for this week's big present, so she's pissed. It's a bit amusing, but you should never bring it up to him.

While masculine Prosciutto is focused on shoving his darling into a role he already thinks they're supposed to be, feminine Prosciutto has high expectations of what she wants her darling to be and is determined to make them fit into it. Prosciutto has a lot of willpower- you don't grab onto the wheels of a moving train if you're not strong willed. It's going to happen. Masc. Prosciutto thinks you're supposed to be what you're closest to- if you're a man, then be a man. If you're a woman, be a woman. Fem. Prosciutto wants her darling to pick up the slack- she's tired of constantly micromanaging everyone, and wants you to be a real man she can rely on, even if you're the most feminine woman in the world.

Fem. Prosciutto will flat out tell her darling they're behaving wrong- Don't do that, you're supposed to be this, get me better things, etc. Her nagging becomes more tolerable if you just view it as her taking stress out on you, which is entirely true. Prosciutto is stressed out of her mind, she has two jobs to juggle and technically a third, if you count her playing mother for eight other people. Yes, she counts Risotto. If she's making them dinner, then they count.

Prosciutto can be very loving, but she doesn't like to show it. You don't voluntarily take care of more than a few people for just no reason- she's got a heart, it just takes a really long time for her to want to take care of someone, even if she started taking care of them begrudgingly. Prosciutto has left people behind in dangerous jobs but gives Pesci goodnight kisses- she really only cares about a select few people.

If you relieve some of her stress, she becomes a thousand times more tolerable. How can you relieve some of her stress?

Prosciutto wants to be handled, she wants to be attitude checked. Will she ever admit that? Hell no. You're supposed to pick up on it- she can't be any clearer, she's telling you that she needs a real man, why aren't you understanding? You're supposed to provide a safe space for her to want to become more docile.

If you're not doing that, but you want to relieve some stress for her... sex is always an option. Prosciutto gives really good head, but she's happiest when her darling desperately ruts into her for as long as they can.

If she's seemingly really pissed off afterwards, it means she really loved it. Prosciutto's embarrassed about bottoming and wanting to submit, so she pretends it was awful and you're never allowed to do it again.

The whole apartment is in a better mood once she is. Do you know that phenomenon where if a caretaker is upset, the whole house gets uncomfortable? You're doing God's work.

[cloverque]

paper heart (prosciutto)

masterlist, ch 1: panic at the gala

shortly after you were assigned the mission, giorno cordially invited you to a gala. seeing as how you'll be away from the group for a while, you decided to take part, just this time.

5174 words

After we moisturise, the next step is to apply sunscreen. I use this brand from Dior– the latest Diorsnow sunscreen with UV protection!

You sat on your bathroom counter, swinging your feet. With a Youtube video playing on your phone, you gently patted sunscreen into your face. The girl in the video– a young lady with rich pink hair– showcased a white tube. Yours sat on your lap while other products were scattered on the counter.

I'm a huge fan of this brand. I always buy their best sellers and give them to my best friends.

You smiled knowingly. As the girl on the screen rambled, you began touching up on your face. Just the bare minimum, seeing as how you were already late.

During your meeting with Giorno, which occurred a week ago, he invited you to a party he was hosting. He had handed you a formal invitation, like always: a letter stamped with a wax seal. To attend or not to attend– you sat on the fence until the last minute.

When he first took over, you happily turned up for his gala. Nothing out of the ordinary had happened that day, but you swore off the rest ever since. The reason was simple: you didn't want to work overtime. When you showed up, you quickly realised you had to socialise with coworkers outside usual office hours.

Rest was important! How else would you stay in tip top shape? So there was no way you would sacrifice your precious down-time over fancy parties. Even if they were hosted by Don Giovanna.

So what implored you to accept his invite? Soon you would be deployed for your mission; possibly far from home for a while. With that in mind, you wanted to hang out with your friends for a bit. But besides that, there was another driving factor. You stared at your reflection, stroking your lashes with mascara.

Curiosity, it was curiosity.

"I'd like you to be there. There's... Someone I'd like you to meet," he said that day. He pushed the envelope towards you with a faint smile.

You took it in your hands and blinked. "An important person?"

He fiddled with the ladybug brooch on his chest. A faint tinge of red dusted his cheeks. With a solemn nod, he planted a seed of curiosity in your mind. You never knew he was capable of being abashed.

"I wonder who he's talking about," you pondered as you checked your work. What kind of person were they for him to make that sort of look?

A knock on your bathroom door derailed your train of thought. "(y/n), you've been in there for an hour. What's taking you so long?"

"Oh, Fugo," You carefully swept a balm against your lips. "You should know by now not to rush a lady. Especially when she's in the bathroom."

"Give me a break. I've been standing here waiting like an idiot for thirty minutes."

"Some gentleman you are..." You muttered begrudgingly. It was him who volunteered to chaperone you to the party in the first place.

After his redemption– when he defeated the Narcotics Team for Giogio– he managed to tone it down a notch. The therapy he sought worked out too. His anger management issues had gotten better, but there was still a limit to his patience. And once that figurative thread broke, it would take more than apologies to placate him.

With that in mind, you hopped off the counter. You took one last look in the mirror. Tonight you were dressed in a satin backless dress. Its spaghetti-thin straps criss crossed behind, showing your supple back. The dress also had a side slit that teased your thighs. To complete the look, a silk shawl draped over your shoulders and around your arms.

Your outfit was a perfect mix between sexy and chic. A smile crept up your face and you blew a kiss at your reflection. Feeling like you could take on the world (and a furious Fugo), you were about to leave when you jumped up.

"Ah! I almost forgot," you chuckled and picked up the pin on the counter. It was a hair pin, a metallic accessory fashioned into a unique heart shape. You clipped it onto your hair and hurried out the door.

Standing outside was none other than Pannacotta Fugo, dressed in a custom tuxedo. His hair was pushed back, with a few strands hanging over his knitted brows. The strawberry blonde had his arms crossed, fingers tapping impatiently on his bicep.

"Are you finally done?" He muttered through clenched teeth.

"Gee, thanks for waiting," You rolled your eyes and walked past him. He trembled with frustration, and you almost felt bad. Tardiness was one of his biggest pet peeves, and for him to be late, without meaning too... Well, you had better head out, fast!

You swiftly packed your purse and the two of you left your apartment. At the entrance awaited a squeaky clean limousine. Fugo settled into a seat across from you, muttering about how embarrassingly unpunctual he was. You glanced out the window and as the car's engine revved to life again, you began to drown him out. The car picked up speed and zoomed to its destination: Giorno's mansion.

✶

By the time you arrived, it was nearly ten. An hour had passed since it had started. The car stopped outside the mansion's grand gates. An armed guard approached the driver's side and after a swift identification check, he opened the gate and the car pulled into the front yard. The chauffeur stopped the limousine outside the front door, where a pair of butlers stood. Wordlessly, they opened the doors for you and Fugo, and led you two up the stairs and into the mansion.

A red carpet was rolled out in the hallway. Sculptures, marble heads and oil paintings lined the walls, archaic pieces that Giorno attained for who-knows-how-many lire. Soft music lingered in the air whilst you began your ascend up a flight of stairs.

The long, winding staircase led the two of you to the second floor, which was decorated with more relics of the past. A few guests stood idly in the hallways, talking in hushed whispers. A couple swayed drunkenly beside a portrait of Don Giovanna. A glass of wine jangled from each of their hands. Hopefully they would not splash it on the painting.

After twisting and turning in the hallway, you finally found the source of the music. Another pair of butlers opened the doors for your friend and you.

The once muffled tunes converted to melodious harmonies, courtesy of a live orchestra. Violins, cellos and brass instruments and a piano were at their disposal. Situated on one end, they played a classical piece. On another side was a buffet spread, with cakes and delicacies a group of women were fawning over. You were soon to be one of them.

In the center people chatted idly while some danced to the lovely music. You caught sight of Mista, chatting with a lady in earnest. He was free of his sweater and instead dressed in a wonderful three piece suit. As for Giogio, who stood by the gunslinger, he was clad in stunning white and gold, wearing a soft primrose pink dress shirt. His long hair fell in voluminous waves behind him.

You searched the group they were with. Everybody maintained a fair amount of distance from each other. Which one of them was his special somebody?

You were about to greet them when your companion grabbed you by the end of your shawl. Fugo lifted up a finger, "I have some business to attend to, so I'll be back later. Remember, if you want to leave let me know. I will accompany you back, you hear me?"

You pried your accessory from him and rolled your eyes. "Yessir. See you later, sir."

The strawberry blonde exhaled, possibly from annoyance. He disappeared into the crowd and you gazed over at the dessert table. You visibly gasped and placed your hand over your heart.

It was radiant! In your sights were numerous three-tiered stands. An assortment of fairy cakes, with different frosting and toppings sparkled and shone on the stands. You licked your lips and rubbed your hands together, all goblin-like.

"Hehe... You can tell me about your special someone later, Giogio. Right now it's chow time!"

. . .

"Are you ladies seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Indeed... How can she pig out during such an elegant event like this?"

"The real question is how did she end up here in the first place?"

You turned to the women standing a few feet away. Just like you, they were dressed elegantly in gowns you saw on fashion runways. You chewed on your tenth fairy cake.

Even under your watchful gaze, they continued with their not-so inconspicuously whispers. You blinked innocently.

Rosa Romano. Caro Bianchi. Helen Bellomo. Daughters of high-ranking officials in Passione.

Rosa, the first born of Capo Romano. He dabbled in the gambling sector, a notable stand user. But unlike her father, she had not inherited a stand. Caro Bianchi. Born out of wedlock, her parents were faded aristocrats. They had history with the group, before Giorno took over. Also not a stand user. And Helen, daughter of a tycoon. Her family and her were sworn members of the gang. None of which were stand users.

In short, they were nothing to be concerned about. And from their ignorance, they didn't know you were part of the Passione's Escort Team. Excellent.

You finished the last of your cake and began on another. As you ate, you tuned them out and focused on the rich creamy treats. It mattered not how others perceived you, so long as you were happy. And with nothing but years of successful missions under your name, not even the Boss had a right to deny you of sugary, gastronomic delights.

"I can't believe you're actually here! You, who stays away from all of the Don's parties. Who would've thought?"

You blinked and a woman came into view. A familiar face had appeared. Fifty-something, the woman had her silver hair in 1940's waves. She wore a vintage cocktail dress, with matching elbow length gloves. A unique heart-shaped mole rested above her cupid's bow.

Your eyes lit up in recognition, "Signora Lucia?! Capo, I–"

"Nuh-uh! Today I'm not your Capo, my dear." She put a gloved finger to your lips. You fluttered your lashes, cross-eyed as you looked at her finger. She smiled cheekily. "Tonight I'm just a regular old lady."

You tilted your head, confused. She waved a waiter down and cherry-picked a glass of wine.

This lady here was none other than the Escort Team's capable leader– Signora Lucia. She was an aged and loyal member of Passione, and had served as the team's chief for years. Even during the period when you betrayed the old boss, Diavolo.

Giorno managed to trick everyone into thinking he had always been their leader, but you suspected Signora Lucia knew better. But even if she did, her loyalty never wavered. She was just as dedicated to her new Don just as she was to her first. And she was benevolent to you when you became branded as a traitor, later accepting you back with open arms.

Signora Lucia is a strange person. Even I have a hard time guessing what she's thinking half the time... You ruminated.

Gingerly swirling its contents, she gazed at you through hooded eyes. "This gala is swarming with the rich. I'm guessing today's a special occasion."

Your eyes flicked to the group of girls, still standing nearby. "Now that you mentioned it, there's also an unusually high number of women present today. I wonder if something's up."

With that in mind, you scanned the crowds for Giorno and Mista. They were preoccupied with another group of people, though this time a lady was between them. Her arm was looped around the blonde's, a dazzling hair pin in her bun. She wore an elegant cheongsam, and like her dress, you guessed she was from the East.

Who is she? She wasn't there a few moments ago. Could she be another woman Giorno has bagged tonight? Geez, talk about suave.

You looked down at your plate, piled with stacks of paper cups. The trio from earlier were now looking in your friend's direction. Like you, they ruminated over the unknown stranger attached to him. Subconsciously, your eye twitched. Signora Lucia took a tentative sip of her wine, watching you.

"I need some fresh air," You whispered to yourself. Leaving your Capo behind, you made your way to one of the many balconies in the room.

When nobody was looking, you pushed open the door just enough to slip through. You quietly closed it behind you and approached the railing. Leaning against the cold stone, your gaze instantly fell on the courtyard below. Even in the darkness of night you could see a table, the only furniture in sight. You and your friends would enjoy tea parties on that same table, sharing snacks and stories with one another.

An image of a certain blonde, smiling, swiftly surfaced in your mind. An unknown sadness bloomed in your heart. You already knew what it was, but you didn't understand why.

When did these feelings start? You weren't sure. They certainly weren't there when you first met him; back at the hideout in the vineyard many years back. Nor was it when he saved you from the persistent stand in the plane to Sardinia.

A gentle breeze tousled your tresses. Gently, you tucked some hair behind your ear. "Maybe I don't actually like him. Maybe I'm mixing up admiration with this."

Crrk...

The doors creaked open and you turned around. A man slowly stepped onto the balcony. He was dressed in beige and cream hues, a tweed jacket hanging over his broad shoulders. Champagne yellow hair was waxed back neatly, secured in little notches tied behind his head. A cigarette rested between his lips.

"Oh, I didn't know this place was already taken," His voice was a deep rumble. He held the little stick between his fingers. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all," You gestured at the space around you. "There's room for more."

He joined you, back pressed against the stone balustrade. With a fancy little lighter, he lit up his cigarette. The blonde man took a long drag before puffing out a cloud of smoke. The scent of tobacco was sure to cling to your clothes, even if you kept your distance. Its dark tendrils began billowing in the balcony. Silently, the two of you stood together, watching the stars twinkle.

You knew who he was, and perhaps he knew who you were too. But your objective today was to find out who Giogio's special someone was, not to exchange formalities with him. You opted to stay quiet until he spoke up.

"I overestimated the crowd today," he muttered, and you glanced at him. His brows were knitted together, fingers in a little v-sign as he held the cigarette. "The last party wasn't as busy as this one."

"It's been a few years since I last attended, so I can't comment," you half-heartedly stated.

He raised a singular brow, "A few years, huh? Hm. I believe I've never seen you before. Is this our first meeting?"

You crossed your arms on the railing and glanced up at him. A finger rested on your lips as you exhaled nonchalantly. "Who knows? But I know who you are. You're an assassin from La Squadra Esecuzioni."

Quiet resumed between you and the man. Without warning, the man swiftly crushed the cig against the stone. You straightened up slowly, holding his gaze. He was a man of average height, a head taller than you. He glared down at you as you peered up at him indifferently.

"Should I be worried about you, signora?"

"'I'm nothing more than what you actually see, but I am also the complete opposite.' A famous singer, Keren Ann, once said that," You answered, crossing your arms. The tails of your shawl fluttered in the cold breeze. An unassuming smile graced your lips.

"With that said, please decide that yourself, signore Prosciutto."

"Ahem. I hope I'm not interrupting something."

You froze at the sound of a familiar, buttery voice. Your face fell as you slowly turned. Giorno stood at the entrance, his brows furrowed in uncertainty. The lady from before stared curiously at you and Prosciutto. Your eyes fell on their intertwined arms.

"Giogio," you cleared your throat. Why were you suddenly feeling restless? You fiddled with your purse. "Um, no. You're not interrupting anything."

You ignored Prosciutto's questioning gaze as he side-eyed you. Giorno visibly relaxed and he smiled faintly.

"I'm glad that you could make it. Fugo told me a while ago that the two of you had arrived safely, but I was busy attending to some guests. Forgive me."

"Yeah, you were real busy back there, huh?" You teased half-heartedly before swallowing. "So um, who's this beautiful lady over here?"

He gestured to the both of you, "Let me introduce you two. This is (y/n l/n), a close friend of mine. She's like family."

You placed a hand on your chest and bowed slightly, lowering your head. These were pretentious formalities, but you didn't want to embarrass the head of Passione. Your nails dug into your dress discreetly.

"And this lovely lady here is–"

An awful sound cut him off. Screams of terror filled the ballroom and you peered past them. Your eyes widened, the sea of people were moving in different directions all at once. A familiar friend shoved past a couple and burst into the balcony.

"Fugo!" Giorno met him halfway. His voice was steady yet demanding. "Tell me what's happening, quickly."

"It's a stand attack! We need to evacuate everyone, Giogio." He panted, gripping his arm. Something pitter pattered onto the floor, and you realised Fugo was bleeding.

A gunshot rang out, and you hoped it was Mista firing. Giorno laid a hand on Fugo's arm, and his stand materialised beside him. A golden glow surrounded his wounded appendage, and you glanced over to the lady beside the guys, looking lost like a lamb in the wilderness.

More screams erupted and you whipped your head around. Fugo sucked in a pained breath and gritted his teeth. "We have to do something about these people. Most of them aren't even stand users– they're defenseless!"

"That's where I come in," you held Giorno and Fugo's confused gazes. Conviction shone in your eyes. "There's no time to evacuate, so I'll be taking them to safety myself."

Passione's Don nodded solemnly. He placed a hand on your shoulder and squeezed it. "I'm counting on you." You nodded and Fugo and him rushed into the fray.

Prosciutto and the lady remained with you and you turned to them. "This is gonna get freaky, so stick close to me." Obediently, they shuffled close as you opened your purse. You fished out a notepad, one of the many you kept within your little bag. With a flip of your wrist, you whipped it open.

"Paper Heart!" A (colour) aura enveloped you and the heart-shaped pin in your hair. The metal eroded away and became an origami-like texture. "Transport all the guests into this piece of paper!"

Fwoop!

The three of you were sucked into the notepad. It fell onto the ground and began changing its form to a paper heart, shaped much like your hairpin. Transported into a realm of blank whiteness, you stood among a horde of confused and panicked people. With a quick head count, you estimated about a hundred or so were present.

The three women from the desert table stood together, clinging to each other. They were almost pitiful with their panicked rambling. You cupped your hands and bellowed, "Don't worry, the Boss will take care of things from here. I've brought you to a secure place, the enemy can't come here. You're safe now!"

Heaves of relief filled the space. Luckily most in Passione knew what a stand was.. So it took little brain cells to put two and two together. You gazed up at the blank ceiling.

"So you're a stand user," Prosciutto drawled. You had forgotten the man existed in the heat of the moment. He glanced around, curiously. "Interesting."

You chose not to respond. Crossing your arms, you stood quietly, thinking. Only you could allow a person to enter and leave this paper realm. Even if somebody discovered the paper heart in the balcony, there was no possible way to enter. And if they ripped the paper to shreds, Paper Heart would transport everyone to one of the many notebooks stashed away in your purse.

As for what laid beyond this world, you had willed for Giorno and his personal guards to remain. Mista and Fugo included. Your stand wasn't the confrontational type, unlike theirs. Hoping this was enough, you looked up at the colourless ceiling.

A bead of sweat slid down your cheek. You wiped it away and realised your pulse had spiked. You held a hand over your chest. Transporting this many people at once was taxing on you, a feat you just recklessly pulled off.

Good grief, what fools would challenge the boss during an event of such a large scale? You sighed. It was a good thing you chose to attend the party.

"Um, I hate to be that one person... But what's happening, (l/n)?" The lady in the cheongsam muttered. She gazed around curiously and frantically. "Where's Giorno...?"

You watched her from your peripheral. Based on her concern, you figured she was a non-stand user. It wouldn't make sense if you shared your stand ability–not like you wanted to– to a complete stranger, even if she was close to Giorno. That was a secret, like your identity. So you decided against it.

"He's probably neutralising the enemy as we speak. He'll be fine. But, uh, are you feeling okay?"

She nodded meekly, and you breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing you'd want was for her to be hurt. She seemed like someone special, after all.

Wait, hold that thought...

"Miss," she turned to you with her big doe eyes. You swallowed nervously and pointed a finger, "Could you be... His–"

A shrill scream pierced the air. You whipped your head around as your heart pounded anxiously. A beady-eyed man held a woman in a headlock, his bicep rippling underneath his suit as he choked her. She squirmed against him, raking his arms. The other guests were pressed against the walls of Paper Heart, trembling like mice cornered by a cat.

He's one of them...!?

You reached out and he spun to you, pointing a gun. A Beretta, standard police edition. Squinting your eyes, you lowered your arms.

"I'm guessing you're one of those freaks with abilities!" He practically dragged the lady with him. The thug stood face to face with you, so close that you could feel his lukewarm breath. "I'm taking her hostage. I have no clue in hell where I am, but I wancha ta bring me back ta my buddies."

He pressed the barrel against the lady's head. Tears streamed down her makeup-caked face. Mascara smudged against her wide eyes. He sported a shit-eating grin as you frowned. "If ya try anything funny, I'll blow her brains out, ya hear?"

"P-Please... Help..." croaked his victim. Now that you were up close, you realised it was Rosa, Capo Romano's daughter. You bit your lip.

Was her father not here today? Where was a powerful stand user when you needed one? The fear in everyone's faces told you everything you needed to know: you were alone. Clenching her fist, you narrowed your eyes.

I need a plan. But what do I do?

You looked around for ideas and when you met the eyes of the guests, they screamed pleas of help with just their stares alone. You locked eyes with the Eastern lady too, and she was gazing at you with hope and anticipation.

You inhaled deeply and tried to gather your thoughts. The man hollered about something in the background as you began drowning him out.

Don't forget, you have the upper hand here. This is your world and stand ability, after all.

"Fine. I'll take you out. But first, I have a question for you," You placed a hand on your hip and pointed at him, jutting your chin out. "Tell me. Do you wipe yourself after a dump, or are you the kinda guy to use the bidet?"

The man cocked an unkempt brow. He bared his teeth, "Huh?! What the hell are you asking, bitch?!"

A barrage of his saliva and spit landed on your dress. You wiped it away and frowned. "C'mon, just answer the question," You tilted your head mockingly.

He hesitated before rolling his eyes, "I wipe myself after, duh. I don't like the feeling of water on my ass– Huh?"

The thug glanced around, gun in hand. He looked under his arm questioningly; his hostage had disappeared. Everybody else had too. Then he realised he was in a toilet cubicle.

"W-Where am I?!"

"You're slow. Slow to realise the predicament you're in, I mean."

Your eyes met his as you stood at full height before him. He, who was stuck on the surface of toilet paper, squirmed in his confines. He pounded his fist against the tissue. However, as if he was trapped behind a concrete wall, the paper refused to give way. The man began sweating profusely.

"You conniving woman! I told you to bring me back to my friends!"

You smiled sweetly and lowered yourself to eye level with your tiny captive. "Did you forget what I said?" Your orbs darkened as your lips thinned.

"I said I'd take you out myself."

He hollered profanities as you began unrolling the toilet paper. With a bundle in your hand, you crunched it into a ball and tossed it into the toilet bowl. Wordlessly, you flushed the man down. His garbled curses faded out and disappeared.

You walked out of the cubicle and washed your hands. Paper Heart allowed you to utilise anything as long as it was a form of paper. From bamboo paper, recycled sheets, newspapers... Teleporting from one source to another was child's play– and for those that remained in the paper realm, they were bound to it forever.

"That's what you get for thinking a woman is an easy target." You mumbled before summoning yourself back into the previous realm.

People fussed over Romano's daughter, who had coughed up a storm since you left her. A nasty bruise had formed itself around her neck. A cut traced her nape too. Everyone parted for you, and you kneeled beside her. She gazed at you with gratitude, a far different expression from your first encounter earlier.

"Thank you for saving my life. I don't know how you did it, but thank you..."

You managed a smile. As you rummaged through your purse, you took another notepad and ripped out a page. Carefully, you placed it over her cut. Like a regular bandaid, you plastered it to her skin. It gently fizzed into her skin, and the fleshy part of the wound was overlaid with paper.

She tenderly held her neck and you stood up. People rushed to help her to her feet, and you stepped aside. Suddenly, you heard a squeaky voice echo around you.

"(y/n), you're in there, right?" A hiccup followed after. You knowingly smiled. It was Number Five, one of Mista's Sex Pistols. "Mista and the others have dealt with the enemies! You can bring everyone out now."

"Roger, will do." You responded before turning to the guests. "We're busting out of here, everyone! Make sure not to leave anything behind. Once we leave this world, anything that remains will vanish."

You counted to ten and the pin on your hair glowed brightly. Everybody shimmered out of the notepad and returned to their original places. Your heels clacked against the balcony floor, along with the Eastern lady and Prosciutto. She leaned against the railing, cross eyed and with wobbly knees. The guests held their heads in their hands, groaning.

The after effects of entering and leaving the paper realm gave most people vertigo, but you overcame this ages ago. You expected the same wooziness from the champagne blonde hitman but to your surprise, he was perfectly fine. You held his gaze, confused. Was he a stand user all along?

An irk mark formed as your eye twitched. Then why the hell did you not help out earlier? Maybe this was his way of payback for my snarkiness earlier... Ugh. You clenched your teeth.

With a sharp exhale, you turned away and searched for your notepad. It had morphed back into a regular block of paper after everyone left it, and dusted it clean. Your hairpin had returned to its previous appearance as well. You slipped the notepad into your purse when a dishevelled Giorno burst into the balcony.

Running past you, he enveloped the lady in a hug and squeezed her. She disappeared in his larger frame, her lithe arms wrapped around his back halfway. The sight would've been funny if it weren't for the jealousy brewing in your chest.

After he got his fill of her, he turned to you. Gratitude shone in his viridescent gaze. "Thank you for protecting my fiancé, (y/n). You did well."

Your mouth slipped open as you gaped in shock. With your eyes shifting from him to her, to her to him, your mouth hung open silently. An ugly bitterness bubbled within your stomach, threatening to spill out of your oesophagus. Its claws raked into your heart, a stinging pain growing within.

Smile. Do it for him, a voice chastised you, and you snapped your mouth shut and smiled. You smiled brightly, so radiantly as if your heart didn't shatter into millions of fragments like glass.

"Your fiancé? Oh man, that's crazy!" You exclaimed as your insides grew numb. With a hand behind your head, you guffawed. "So she's the one you wanted me to meet all along! I guess I should've known, silly me."

"I hope it's not too sudden. I meant to tell you but the right moment never arose," Giorno looked apologetic. Was that a faint blush on his cheeks?

The blonde and his partner exchanged looks: they were beaming. You mustered your courage, but your heart was cold and your fingers dug into your palms. With all of the goodness in your heart, you bowed once more and spoke softly.

"Congratulations, Don Giovanna and... La Madrina."

[kattartsblog]

These are outfits for the Fem Squadra AU requesummer 3 epilogue comic that got too big for me to handle. I still wanted to post these because I am proud of how these turned out.

Gelato and Sorbet are owners of a small gelato shop with doing some weapons dealing on the side, Illuso became an influencer, and Pesci became a wrestler in the underground ring. As for the rest, they stayed after a paycheck increase 20 fold.

[canon-naranciaghirga]

"let's make our final moments together count, shall we?"

[lady-of-endless]

hello everything is fine? I saw that requests are open and I would like to know if you can write headcanons for (Risotto nero, Bruno bucciarati and leone abbacchio) with a fem! reader who is a caporegime of passion and has a stand capable of healing fatal injuries and capable of stopping time like jotaro and dio? Thank you so much.

Risotto Nero, Bruno Bucciarati, Leone Abbachio x caporegime!fem!reader headcanons

Author's Note: Died while writing Risotto's part. I enjoyed this idea so much, thank you for this request and your patience. Hope you'll enjoy it! (GIFs are not mine, I'm thanking the owners)

Risotto Nero

- He respects you for your being a caporegime but that doesn't mean that he trusts you automatically. He needs to know more about you, and he will find out more. He thinks that there might be a reason why he met you and he starts overthinking about it.

- If you decide to visit La Squadra more often, that's how you slowly earn his trust. More precisely, by how you interact with each member, and how you get along with them. He always observes from afar, with his usual familiar face. He likes that you don't seem to care about your rank and don't demand any special treatment from anyone. He also likes how you treat everyone with the same amount of respect.

- When you discuss mafia matters with him, you notice how uptight and tired he looks and it concerns you. Risotto is stunned when you change the subject to tell him that he should take care of his well-being just as much as he takes care of his men. He is moved by the softness of your gaze and tone as it's something that he thinks shouldn't exist in a mafia gang such as Passione. You turn his world upside down with this simple gesture.

- In time, exactly during those visits of yours, he starts to notice his somatic reactions to your presence. When seeing and hearing you, he's more aware of his heartbeat, the way he starts to feel hot under his outfit, and the way his body just seems to lean in (he corrects his posture right away though). Nothing gives him away.

- When learning about your Stand's healing ability, Risotto automatically thinks about how useful it would be for his team's safety. He will ask your permission to have you on speed dial if something bad happens. You surprise him again by accepting right away with no hesitation and you can tell it from how his gaze softens. His eyes are more expressive than he thinks.

- Prosciutto is the first to notice a change in Risotto as days go by and understands what is going on. He knows exactly what he's implying when he suggests to Risotto that you two should discuss those mafia matters and plans alone. Risotto sighs knowing that it's starting to get obvious but it's grateful for Prosciutto pointing it out.

Bruno Buciaratti

- It might look like you have his respect right away but in reality, it takes some time to earn the genuine form, not the forced one. However, he will always treat you right, he's always a gentleman towards a woman like you nonetheless. He will always shake your hand or even kiss it briefly when you meet. This is also a way of trying to get some reactions out of you so he can read you.

- Because he knows how your presence is more than beneficial, Bucciarati will have his ways to tempt you to spend more time with his team but that's when the chaos unleashes. He tries to instruct all to behave when you're around and surprisingly, they do. No funny businesses. It only lasts for a few minutes because Narancia and Mista decide to do something fun. Everyone can guess how it went. Bucciarati is boiling on the inside for this happening while you're there but then he hears you chuckling. Turning around with a surprised expression on his face, he sees you smiling at their antics. Seeing how you don't mind it and understand it even, he smiles too.

- In time, as he notices more of those genuine reactions from you, he looks at you in a different light. He enjoys how you're not as serious as you seemed in the beginning. His heart skips a beat when your smiles are directed at him. Plus, the others are so happy to see you all the time, it makes him happy as well.

- Finds your Stand extremely powerful but starts thinking of ways to protect your back while you're using the healing ability on others. He's very invested in ways to keep you safe during missions. You two will even decide on secret signals to know what you have to do for each other. Bucciarati is relieved to have someone as capable as you in his proximity.

- It's not a surprise for the rest of the team to see him developing feelings for you, they all thought it was about time. No one even jokes about it because they have been waiting for so long. Abbachio will always be the one to tell the others to follow him somewhere else for whatever reason just to give the two of you much-needed privacy.

Leone Abbachio

- At first, he thinks that being a caporegime in Passione might be a little too much for a woman. He's NOT a misogynist, no, but he sees it that way because in his time working as a policeman he heard many horrors women went through for being involved with the mafia.

- And so, because of this, Abbachio has questions about you, about the other caporegime, about your role. He wants to be informed, not just because he doesn't fully trust you but because he can't help but feel slightly concerned deep down. He just hopes that you can handle everything. When you prove to him how capable you are, without you even knowing, he starts to trust you more and respect you.

- However, Abbachio will never give you special treatment because you're a caporegime, he doesn't care about this title (even if later on, he starts to find it hot but he won't admit it, not even if he were on his deathbed). He cares about your true nature and how you deserve that rank.

- To Abbachio, actions definitely speak louder than words. After one mission in which he got severely injured, you happen to be there to heal him, despite his stubborn protests. Instead of getting frustrated with him, you kept your calm and helped him with great care. With this, he discovers another ability that you have, the ability to put him at ease and make him feel better inside. You've given him too much to feel. Your carefulness towards him makes him start acting slightly different to you, less disdainful and less distant. He can't deny the warmth he feels when you ask about him.

- To him, your Stand is as impressive as you, he expected it. He has questions about it and most of them are about the time-stopping ability. He thinks of ways you two can combine your abilities. When it comes to your healing ability, he just sighs and rolls his eyes thinking about the similar effect Giorno's Stand ability has. In reality, he is relieved that there's another healer that can help if anything goes wrong.

- Abbachio doesn't need anyone's help to get alone with you, he has his ways to get privacy. The others can only grin as they notice his tricks, too afraid to tease him about it. His favorite way is by lighting up curiosity. He'll make eye contact with you for a while and then whisper close to you that if you two eventually will be left alone, you should remind him that he has something important to talk to you about and then walk it off. You'll get so curious about it that you're the one who will get the two of you alone somehow. When you ask him about it, he'll just say that he can't remember at the moment but if you're already there with him you can talk about something else.

[nicherayyy]

JJBA MASTERLIST

La Squadra x Child Reader Celebrating Halloween🎃

La Unita x South Park! Child Reader

Bucci Gang x South Park! Child Reader

La Squadra x Teenager Reader

La Unita x Oblivious Child Reader

Bucci Gang x GN Child Reader with a humanoid cat stand

La Squadra helping Child!Reader with math homework

La Squadra x Child! South Park! Reader

Sister Figure Trish x Child Reader

Young!Joseph Joestar x Fem! Reader

La Squadra x Ocean Lover Child! Reader

La Unita x Chaotic Child Reader

Yandere Dio x Fem!Reader Phantom Of The Opera AU oneshot

Josuke x Sibling Reader hcs

La Squadra x quiet Child Reader

Ghiaccio x Child Reader hc🧊

Sorlato x Child Reader hc

Jonathan x Child Reader hc

La Unita x bug lover Child!Reader

La Unita "helping" Child!Reader with monsters under their bed

La Squadra x Teen!Reader who’s dating Giorno

La Squadra x Child!Reader calling them dad/big bro for the first time

La Squadra’s Reader!Child becomes friends with Bucci Gang’s Child

La Squadra and Child!Reader celebrating Christmas Headcanons🎄

La Squadra x bullied GN! Child Reader  (ice cream couple included)

Bucci Gang babysitting La Squadra's child

La Squadra x Child Reader who throws a tantrum

La Squadra x GN Teen Reader coming out as gay

La Squadra x Child Reader who has a childish crush on Bruno

Child Reader interacting with La Squadra stands

La Squadra x Sick Gn!Child Reader

Imagine being La Squadra's child and in trouble with Prosciutto

Giorno Giovanna with Sibling!Reader hcs

[lemonflavoreddishsoap]

Hi, may I please for headcanons for la squadra with a gn s/o who often gets mistaken for a prince/ss cause they're fairytale attractive

POV you get kicked out of La Squadra cuz your Disney Prince(ss) ass keeps attracting BIRDS.

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La Squadra with an S/O who gets mistaken as a Prince/Princess

Formaggio

He loves whenever people stop and compliment you, or are absolutely dumbfounded from how pretty/handsome you are. He, probably more than anyone, is aware of just how ethereal you are, and he loves to have the whole world acknowledge it.

If a little kid were to toddle over to you two and asks you directly if you're royalty, due to your beauty, he stands to the side with an amused smile as you explain to the kid that unfortunately you are not!

But as the kid walks away, a tad bit dejected at not meeting a real-life prince/princess, he parts from your side to go crouch next to the little one and talk to them. You don't hear it, but he's sharing a "little secret"...you actually are royalty. He chuckles at the sparkle in the kid's eyes, and the two make a pinky promise to not reveal your "secret to the world" before he catches back up with you.

"What was that all about, Formaggio?" "Oh, don't worry about it."

You find yourself getting called a new petname after that event <3

Illuso

The two of you are BOTH fawned over equally. If you're more on the fem side, the two of you are giving random strangers bisexual awakenings.

And he eats it right up. He's in love with both the attention to himself and the attention to his beloved. Like fuck yes you're also beautiful, it's amazing everyone can see that.

If anyone is to mistake either/both of you as royalty, he'll be perfectly fine with informing them otherwise; more than fine, actually. Why? Well, it's the perfect opportunity to fish for compliments from anyone possible!

"Royalty? Pssh, not at all. You really think so?" "Oh, well I didn't think my face shape was that impressive, y'know..." "MY partner? a prince(ss)? Well yeah, they are quite beautiful, aren't they?"

If you join him in the compliment-fishing he just falls further in love.

Prosciutto

The two of you are ALSO the most gorgeous couple around. Compliments towards your individual and combined beauty are constant because godDAMN.

Pesci is the first one to compare the two of you royalty, and at the time Prosciutto just shrugs it off. Not that he doesn't appreciate his teammate's kindness, it's just that with Pesci it's kind of expected. Feel free to thank him, though - honestly it makes your lover smile a bit to see you get along with his mentee.

It's when some old lady stops you two to sincerely gush over how incredible you two look together that you get reactions. First and foremost, a tightening of his hand around yours.

"Very kind of you, miss. I'm so very lucky to give my life to this perfect individual."

While he's clearly happy with interactions like that, it's when you make the comparisons to one another that he really lets his face grow warm.

Pesci

His heart flutters every time someone is stunned by how attractive you are. He sees himself in their pink cheeks and wide eyes, he knows exactly how they must be feeling. How can someone so beautiful exist?? He sure was still trying to figure that out.

He's just as flustered as you when people call you as pretty as a prince(ss), and he stays quiet, letting you respond to the person. In all honesty, people don't often assume you two are dating at first, but if you bring it up, he is often congratulated for scoring on a lovely fellow/lady. Just think of his smile <333 AUGH

Pesci wants you to be completely aware that he doesn't just love you for your appearance, and he loves everything about you, but...

"...They are right, you're so beautiful!"

He thinks calling you prince/princess is quite fitting, and will definitely ask you if he can start doing so!

Melone

He keeps his mouth shut and watches every interaction: how immediately captivated and smitten every person is, what exactly they compliment, and how you react to each glowing word, whether it be with a flushed face and lost composure or if you smirk and take it all easily.

It's not that he's being creepy or possessive (probably), he just respects that the moment is entirely about you. You and your effortless charm. He just wants to take it all in himself.

But when some wide-eyed young lady likens you to a prince/princess he can't help but grin - you see the same look in his eyes as when he's solving something on his laptop. The result of his calculations? Ah, yep, it's true. You are royally gorgeous.

"What a smart girl. I never connected the words myself but...a prince(ss)? I'd be willing to believe so."

The interaction isn't really brought up between you two beyond that day. However, if there's anything you know about Melone, it's that he's hard to read. For all you know, he could be thinking about it every time he looks at you.

Ghiaccio

His immediate reaction is to wonder out loud how being beautiful automatically connects to royalty. He'll drop it for a second if you ask him too, but when it's just the two of you he'll bring it up again. Really though, can "peasants" not be attractive? What the fuck!?

You have to explain the compliment directed at you to him, but you know what he's like, you pretty much signed up for this. Luckily it doesn't take him long to understand. He agrees, one hundred percent, that you're so incredible that you seem like a fantasy sometimes, so he gives it to you straight how gorgeous you are.

But...it's weird. Something like this usually wouldn't bug him but he can't shake the buzz of feeling bad. He tries not to feel self conscious about his anger, but of all the things to throw a fit over, it happened to be a major compliment to you. He tries to remedy it later that night.

"You are attractive. Most attractive motherfucker in the goddamn world, and hell if that means you're a fucking prince/princess then I guess I have to agree with it. Please never let my temper make you believe I don't love you endlessly."

Good god how you jumble his brain /pos

Risotto

You plague the abstract thoughts of his mind. Every fuzzy visual in his non-terror dreams feel like optical illusions that lead to your face, and the pulses of colour he sees behind his eyelids seem to always be in the hues that remind him of you. In short, he thinks of you a lot. Maybe more than he should.

So when he watches strangers and even some friends praise your appearance, and the comparisons to fantasy and royalty begin, he chews the back of his lip. You, a prince(ss)...he can practically feel his mind begin to run. Something doesn't feel right. He knows the intention of it, but in his mind you're something stronger than that, you're a king. Queen if you prefer.

You rule over his mind, he thinks. You're the foundation of his hope and comfort, but also his fear. Secure in his arms, half asleep and curling into his embrace, you're driving him insane and you aren't even trying. Your mental grip on his challenges his physical grip as he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"My queen/king, I love you."

...Yes, yes, you are the most beautiful thing in the world.

[tubbypeddle]

Prosciutto x nurse!fem!reader (sfw, nsfw)

headcanons are like,,so fun. I'll actually be at work writing these bc i love doing them 🤧

(also, very loosely based off of the matchup trade i did with endless lady (and by very loosely i mean not that loosely))

(authors note: i have not been to a doctors office in literal years, and the last time i spoke to any sort of nurse was when a hospice nurse came to help my grandmother pass, so i apologize for any inaccuracies)

(sfw)

-you met him when he was admitted to your hospital for a head injury. The grown boy accompanying him (Pesci) was wailing and generally causing a big scene out of worry, and he was just coherent enough to watch with awe as you managed to calm Pesci down enough that he could sit in the waiting room without him

-After that, when you came to his side to tend to his equipment, he mustered up the courage to ask you

-"You helped my overgrown manbaby brother...why?"

-You'd laugh and say "He definitely wasn't the worst patient I've ever had. Besides, he's only worried about you, it must be scary to see your big brother hooked up to all these intimidating machines."

-which, yknow...is understandable

-After he's been released from the hospital, he puts in a request to Risotto to have you as the squad's personal medic

-youd be paid handsomely, of course, with whatever the Boss decided you were worth. But Prosciutto knew your worth.

-if you're accepted to work for La Squadra, congratulations! You've got an arrogant man constantly in your infirmary!

-Even if the Boss denies Prosciutto's request, he'd still find his way to your hospital.

-Prosciutto's not even injured most of the time, he just wants to see you.

-his form of courting you is...weird. He critiques tiny things about you; how you've organized your equipment, how you've organized your files (how did he even get into those? those are confidential-), how you talk to your patients

-Honestly, at first, you actually don't even notice that he's romantically interested in you. he just seems so rude and mean and critical

-really though, he's just tryna keep you "up to his standards"

-he's got a bit of an ego, he believes that when he wants someone by his side, he wants them to be as presentable as he is, or even more than he is. (which is the case with you, he already thinks you're pretty perfect, but it's a habit he can't break)

-it really takes a long time before you notice he wants to date you

-when you finally do notice though, you're a little endeared by his odd habits. you learn to brush off his nitpicking, learn about his friends turned family.

-when he introduces you to them, his family, formaggio in particular is shocked. like, what? Prosciutto?? found this super hot nurse chick?? AND managed to impress her enough that she'd date his hot mess ass? like....why?

(nsfw below the cut)

(nsfw)

-he tends to switch between wanting something slow and sensual, real love-making, or something raw and fast and mean, depending on his mood.

-when he's feeling something slower, he'll bed you right, believe it

-candle lit dinner in his apartment, flowers, rose petals on the bed, the whole fucking show

-when he's feeling rough, though...pray for your legs and yo pussy, gurl, bc he's mean.

-he don't care where you two are, he'll fuck you in a bathroom stall, a greenhouse, his fucking car, even in your own fucking nurse's office. he does not care. he's taking you wherever he can

-BOOBS

-he loves BOOBS

-he's giving you specific outfits with very pretty boob windows just so he can stare at you in them. and then fuck you in the cafe restroom, because he just cannot help himself.

-and oral

-this man has an oral fixation, and he wants his mouth on you ALWAYS. giving you nASTY head, or sucking on your tits, or leaving so many hickeys on you that you need to wear concealer even WITH your scrubs.

-biter

[poorxsouls]

Yandere Moge-Ko (=^ ◡ ^=)!!

Yandere type: sadistic + bratty

!!︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶!!

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TW: murder, killing, slight spoliers, torture/sadism, violence, fem reader, she/her + feminine names for reader, yandere(isk) behavior in general, etc.

CW: Moge-ko created by DPS(deep sea prisoner)/Funamusea, mentions of Mogeko(s), Yonaka/Lord Prosciutto, slight DefectYona (defect Mogeko x Yonaka),

Tags: DPS, deepseaprisoner, Funamusea, okegom, mogeko, okegom x reader, mogeko x reader, Moge-ko, Moge-ko x reader, x reader, character x reader, yandere, yandere x reader

Requested by @Fr1endWe1rdo on Wattpad

—————————-

-You are very unlucky either way if the Yonaka castle happens or not, you can't stand against her in any possible way (expect for many in bed—but that's a maybe). Of course shes not as horrible as most yanderes (*ahem* Fumus), but she clearly is someone who you shouldn't risk being kind to her. the mogekos/Lord Prosciutto gift you towards her so they don't have to deal with her brattiness.

-To start off with, Moge-ko is still a Mogeko. So, as a result, expect her sick and (extremely grossly) pervy with you even before staring to grow "feelings" for you (such as love). Most of the times she enjoys "playing" with you—feeling a horrible type of happiness whenever you scream, plea, or cry due to her lack of carefulness when it comes to you.

-But, if you're obedient and good—which will help you in the long run, you'll get a bit more nicer than most when it comes to the aftermath. Once she's done with "playing" with you, she lets you rest on bed and will stare at your sleeping face—enjoying seeing your passed out expression from the exhaustion. But—doing the opposite, disobeying her, you often end up being chained up to the ground after she beats you to a pulp. ((Both are better than giving up—if you do give up, you often get killed off by her)).

-Due to Lord Prosciutto being busy with (Angel) defect Mogeko, Moge-ko has more free time to do wholesome dates with you—or at least as wholesome as it gets. Thanks to Lord Prosciutto technically being your master (despite how many times Moge-ko forces you to call her mistress), Lord Prosciutto doesn't mind threading Moge-ko by using your name.

"Now, now, now... you aren't forgetting your place, are you? Hey, if you don't want your pet to be my new toy instead of you, you better not talk back to me again unless you want her to suffer your consequences instead",

is something that Moge-ko always shivers about whenever Lord Prosciutto puts her in her place—so as a consequence, Moge-ko often becomes quick to anger, being jealous, and so much more to the point she often forces you to stay inside her room and only lets you go (when she decides to).

-In conclusion, she's horrible—but also annoying. She often CAN be reduced into a pathetic pet (especially during the normal end), but her yanderism does often make her more sad than pathetic. She's much more tamer than the demons yet also more violent than the others—I'd she's a 5/10.

—————————-

-End.

[mintymarabell]

Can I request some Elder Yautja headcanons with a fem reader where she is pregnant by him? How would he act when he found out that his little ooman is pregnant and what would he does at the time of delivery? Thanks ☺️😊

Getting pregnant by your elder yautja

A/n: This isn’t proof read.

He honestly had no clue he could even get you pregnant with the whole different species thing but as soon as you tell him he’s happy, picking you up and spinning you around in the air.

He’s never been able to raise his own kid the female yautja always shooing him off, so this is gonna be his first time with an actual pregnant experience.

He’s gonna be right there with you when you have morning sickness, as soon as you jump out of bed he’s out too. Soon as you start running toward the bathroom he’s right behind you getting ready to hold your hair back and have a warm towel to wipe your mouth.

Your hormonal mood swings scare him. It’s laughable really. This big burly 8ft elder is scared of his ooman mate. One minute you want him leaving then the next you don’t want him to go and now your convinced he hates you, your sobbing, he’s on the verge of sobbing himself.

Some pregnant ladies cry a lot for or when random things happen. If you do this, you can use it to your advantage.

One time you started crying because the sandwich he made you was so good and your poor mate didn’t know that so he was kneeled by your side pushing the hair out of your face and asking what’s wrong all while you mumble something about a good sandwich.

He takes you to the oomanologist once a week and every single time he’s there holding your hand.

If you have a random craving like pickles wrapped in prosciutto? He will 100% fly you to earth just for it, you’ll be sitting in his lap with his coat around you as he flys the ship.

He is a purring mess every time he acknowledges your now showing tummy. He loves every bit of it, rubbing his hand over the stretched skin, rubbing creams on it.

He’ll make the babies room by scratch, he’ll go the whole nine yards with going off to a near by forest and cutting down trees for your rocking chair and bassinet and all sorts of other things.

Once’s he’s done with it he’ll sit in the rocking chair, looking on at his work. Then it’ll hit him, his very ooman mate is having his kid. What if you don’t make it? What if the baby kills you? What if you both die? You can’t leave him alone.

This will keep him up at night, he’ll watch as your chest rises and falls, his hand resting on your stomach. He’ll eventually ask an oomanologist to which the guy would probably say he don’t know because this has never happened before so no one knows what gonna happen.

You’ll eventually just have to tell him everything will be okay and that you and the baby will be okay.

Delivery time.

Funny thing, he was at a meeting when your water broke. You had to call him, to which he stopped the meeting and practically sprinted to your shared room, pushing down everyone who was in his way (he pushed a kid over).

As your laying on the table, the oomanologist between your legs. All he can do is hold your hand and hope for the best.

This is the part where he’s glad he wasn’t there for a female yautjas birth, your grip on his hand has it cracking and popping. He would need a hand check up after this as you grip it all to pieces, screaming in pain in his ear.

When the baby is out he is so relieved, almost passing out from the relief of his hand too.

He wants you to hold the baby before he does, saying something about skin to skin.

Once he holds the baby he almost backs out as he sees how small and fragile it is. He marveled at how cute it was, it looked yautja with baby mandibles that had no fangs on the end, it’s tendrils barely coming in.

He was happy with staying up with the baby, letting you rest. He liked it, being able to take care of the baby, letting you take over when you were awake.

He will 100% want to try your breast milk. He will become addicted to it when he tastes how sweet it is.

He’s the type to move his nursing baby and say sharing is caring and then take over the kids spot.

[cloverque]

paper heart (prosciutto)

masterlist, ch 2: the wolf and its flower

the aftermath of the party still bothers you until this day. nevertheless, with only one day left before take off, you decide to get your head in the game. but who would you meet in the streets of naples today...?

2795 words

The sun's shining a little brighter than usual today, you thought. From the cracks between your fingers, you gazed at the sky. In your grasp was a lacy parasol, which you promptly opened up and held overhead. A pair of children kicked a ball past you and ran into the alley you stepped out from.

The weather forecast stated that today would be a sunny day with no clouds in sight. They were right for the most part; but there was no way this summer heat was just thirty degrees celsius.

As you strolled down the streets of Naples, you thought about the gala– a numbing memory that burned itself in the corners of your mind. You stopped at a pedestrian crossing, staring pointedly at the traffic light. Glaring red flashed languidly.

Giorno and you had not spoken since that day. Shortly after meeting his fiancé, you slipped away using your stand. Knowing Giogio, he was sure to notice something was amiss, especially when you missed this week's tea party. But he never reached out once.

I wonder if he even cares.

Stunned by the intrusive thought, you shook your head to dispel it. Today was the last day before your mission. This was not the right time to brood over a man– you knew better than that. Relationships and familial ties were the leading cause of failure in missions. You were certain not to disappoint.

Red switched to green and you began crossing the road. As you gripped your parasol, you stared ahead.

But when I return, I'll tell him how I feel. That's fine... right?

. . .

Today's goal was to rendezvous with your coworkers. For years, you have received job details directly from your capo, Signora Lucia. This time, you were instructed to contact a man named Murolo: a member of Passione's information analysis team. He was to brief you on the intricate details of the mission– and like it or not– this likely meant he knew of your position in Passione. Few knew of your identity, and you disliked the idea of another person on the list, but it was a small price to pay.

You continued strolling the streets when you passed by an alleyway. A faint mew alerted you and you perked up. Peering from the shadows was a tiny creature, its tiny tail twitching and ears raised. In its hairless glory, a young Sphynx cat beckoned you closer.

Squatting down, you put your hands on your lap. You cooed and smiled tenderly at it.

The kitten's ears shifted independently before padding over to you. It met your outstretched hand halfway and rubbed its head against your fingers. You gushed in awe and began petting it.

Your smile faltered when you sensed an ominous presence behind you. Instinctively, you dropped low and spun, kicking your leg out to knock them over. Bullseye; you landed a perfect blow and they fell over.

"Mew!" The kitten fled into the safety of the shadows as you righted yourself to full height, towering over the stranger laying on the floor.

It was a man in a trench coat. A hat and a pair of sunglasses laid a few feet away from him, its lenses shattered and fragments dispersed randomly on the concrete.

"Oh... geez," A groan rumbled from his throat. The man lifted his head, "I didn't know Italians welcomed foreigners with violence."

You met his eyes, "I think anyone with some sense would know that it's rude to sneak up on people," You refuted.

The man sighed as he combed his fingers through his hair. His other hand flapped at you weakly in a 'whatever'.

The stranger was quite the looker, with dark layered hair that curled around his nape. From the shadows of his lengthy, disheveled fringe, there laid a deep scar that ran vertically down his lip to his chin. Contrasting with his Eastern features, he owned a pair of emerald green eyes. Huh, those eyes. They looked an awful lot like a certain mafia boss in mind.

"No offence, but you look like a mobster, signore."

The man hauled himself onto his feet, rubbing his behind. "First you knock me over and now you insult my style? Consider me charmed."

He scooped up his hat and slapped it onto his head. When he gathered his broken shades- or what was left of it- another groan left him.

You cringed at the lenses-less frame in his hands. "I'm sorry... Would you like me to replace those?"

"They're a vintage piece from an auction I scored in London. There's no way you'd be able to afford it," he muttered. He chucked it into a trash bin and dusted his hands.

Well that was haughty... It certainly does look quite pricey. But when you play a stupid game, you get a stupid price.

He began gathering the goods– or what was left of it– into his paper bag. Fallen produce littered the alleyway, tomatoes squashed and bottles of herbs shattered. As he stuffed a can of cat food into his paper bag, he raised a brow.

"You know what? There is something you can do to make up for it."

You gazed at him questioningly.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The jar in your hands was twenty euros. A singular jar of organic gherkins. Out of anything in this world it just had to be pickled cucumbers. And unreasonably, 'high quality all-natural' gherkins, to boot.

Your head swiveled to the ravenette, "This is ridiculous."

"What are you on about?" He scoffed when he snatched it from your grasp. "I know my worth."

You stared in disdain as he carted it. To make up for it, this stranger made you tag along to replace his groceries. All that was broken and ruined had to be replaced by you. At first you weren't too miffed about it until you saw the sign outside the store.

Penny's Organics. That second word was enough to send you running to the hills. Nevertheless, you were a woman of your word, so here you were.

You checked your watch; half an hour left. The meeting would start soon and you had better hurry. However, the man beside you (who was pondering over Italian herbs) prevented you from scurrying off.

"You must be seriously loaded to afford eating like this," You muttered as you walked beside him, holding the other handle of the basket. Down the aisle, he selected a bottle of extra virgin olive oil. Another eighty euros. He placed it atop a pile of similarly overpriced goods in the cart.

"I'm just paying attention to my health. The garbage most people put into their bodies is astounding. Believe it or not, this is the way to live better, with better food."

"But this is a luxury," you said as the both of you beelined for the cashier. "Realistically most people can't afford to pay this much for groceries. You're privileged, signore."

You lifted the basket onto the conveyor belt. The clerk in charge began scanning the goods.

"That'll be three hundred and sixty three euros," The lady glanced expectantly at the two of you. She tilted the scanner in hand. "Cash or card?"

You side eyed the stranger and he stared back. Reluctantly, you pulled out your purse and took out your card. You sighed and handed her the little silver rectangle.

"Card, please."

What happened next was a blur. When you blinked, you found yourself sitting in a little coffee shop. The same shop that you were told to meet Murolo and Prosciutto. And for some reason, the foreigner was seated on the other side of the table. A set of matching parfaits were on the table. Yours remained untouched, spoon sunken in a pool of whipped cream.

Uh... This is the part where we go our separate ways... Right?

Almost as if he had telepathy, he responded, "Why do you look so confused? This is my thank you."

Your eye twitched, "What for? For putting a dent in my bank account?"

"If you'd like to put it that way," The ravenette chuckled. He scraped the bottom of the glass before checking his watch. You blinked once and a wad of cash was now sat on the table.

"What's this for?" You pointed at the money.

"Ah, leave some here as a tip for the staff. You can keep the rest," He replied as he adjusted his hat and got up. Your confused expression prompted him further, "I was just kidding when I asked you to pay for my groceries. That would be dishonoring my family name."

"Ah, your name– I don't know your name," You stammered, your eyes dashing from the cash to him.

The foreigner froze and held his chin in thought. Then his eyes crinkled as he smiled from ear to ear, "Let's just hope we never meet again, lady," He laughed. Then he walked out the door and left.

You sat in the cafe, alone, an uneaten parfait still waiting for you. In the afternoon heat, cream dribbled down the sides of the glass.

Not too long after, the first person showed up. A lithe man with a Borsellino hat approached you cautiously, a brown leather laptop bag in his hands.

"(l/n), is it?" The man enquired, his voice low in secrecy, "I hope I didn't keep you waiting."

"Murolo, I presume," You exchanged a handshake. "Please, call me (y/n). I'm assuming you already know who I am, so there's no need for any false airs."

He nodded. His eyes were a cunning slant, reminding you of the visage of a shifty fox.

"Indeed, I know everybody in this organisation. In fact, I'm well acquainted with your capo and your team," Murolo smirked, "But I digress. Let's begin, shall we?"

The two of you sat down and he produced a laptop. He slid it towards you, gesturing to open it, so you did. The screen had only one folder present, which you clicked open. A document popped up instantly.

"This mission involves a Chinese diplomat. His name is Luo Langfei–" Murolo said as you scrolled down the word document. A character study had been prepared, and the photo attached showed a middle-aged man sitting on a couch, "–He's a member of a triad in the motherland, a sly fella who pulls strings behind the scenes in the drug trade."

"I can see where this is headed but how exactly does this involve Passione?"

Murolo hesitated. "Lately, we caught wind of suspicious activities between his group and ours."

You reclined in your seat, "You mean some of our men have had dealings with Langfei?"

"Correct," The man pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket. He set it on the table and opened it. A thin vial was before you. Inside it was a red flower with few petals. Most of them had decayed and shriveled, resting at the bottom.

"I'm sure you know Panacotta Fugo. Giogio sent him to investigate these rumours. He found a number of these vials among our men. They refused to spill the beans about its whereabouts, except for one guy. But at the mention of Langfei..." His brows furrowed and he lowered his voice.

"Fugo said that it was a horrifying death. Out of nowhere, hundreds of roots burst out from the man's guts. A long stem sprouted out of his mouth shortly and he suffocated. A red flower bloomed as the man's muscles began atrophying rapidly. He was pronounced dead on the spot."

A long moment of silence followed. Something heavy hung in the air, something akin to horror and discomfort. A lump sat in your throat, and you swallowed hard. Was it wrong for you to say that you were glad it wasn't you who witnessed that?

You held your chin. Could that also be why Fugo insisted on escorting you during the gala? Had you known what he saw, you probably would have cut the poor guy some slack. Feeling a tinge of guilt, you closed your eyes.

"That's a horrible way to go... even for a traitor. So Giorno thinks this flower has something to do with it?"

"You hit the nail on the head. This flower here is the same as the one that killed the man. And–" The man in the hat leaned forward. He gazed around before continuing, "–A week ago, the men who attacked the gala carried this flower. We don't know yet of its purpose, but Giogio thinks all of this circles back to Langfei."

You rubbed your chin, thoughtfully. "And so this is where I come in, right? My partner and I will investigate this diplomat. And if it turns out he's the one responsible..."

"I believe that's what I'm here for. His blood will be on my hands."

Standing beside you was none other than a certain blonde from the gala. Your partner and an infamous mobster from the Assassination Team. A wine-purple suit was draped over his shoulders. His hair was styled the same during the gala, pushed back and secured in tiny little notches along his head.

In the bright daylight, you could see the lines under his eyes, a declaration of his age. His blue eyes fell on you, and they widened slightly.

"Hm, I didn't expect to meet you again, signora," A corner of his lips tilted up in a faint smirk, "This must be what people call fate, huh?"

Your lips twitched in a grin, "Perhaps you're right."

Murolo checked his watch. The blonde sat beside you, listening to the informant's brief rerun of the information. As Prosciutto was brought to speed, you began to zone out. Unfortunately, your daydreams ended and you were slapped back to reality by Prosciutto's questioning tone.

"Huh? We're gonna go that far for this mission?" From the slack of his jaw, it seemed he was caught off guard.

You side-eyed him, what's got his panties in a twist? You raised a brow questioningly at the informant across you. The little man with a hat carried an amused expression on his face.

"Did the boss not tell you? For this assignment, the two of you will be playing husband and wife. And you're going on a little trip around the world."

✸

Murolo left the cafe first. Prosciutto and you followed after some time had passed. You silently walked together, down the quiet streets of Naples as dusk painted it in its hues. Your parasol hung from your arm as you drowned in your thoughts.

Tomorrow marked the beginning of the mission. What surprised you was how hastily it was planned. Giorno was sure to receive a nagging from you when you returned, how could he not consult you on the fact that this mission would precariously hinge on your acting skills? Would it even work out? Could you really pull it off?

"I didn't think the boss would want us to go this far," You gazed at the man who broke the silence. A cigarette bud rested between his lips. "I've never done something like this before."

"Same here. The most complicated work I've done was..." You held your tongue, "Well I've never had to play hanky panky with a coworker before."

"'Hanky panky?' We don't have to go that far," He frowned, seemingly displeased with the joke. "Besides, if they wanted a flirtatious man, they should've chosen Melone... Wait, that sounds like a recipe for disaster."

He began murmuring to himself. It seemed like he was putting in a lot of thought into this too. The blonde seemed like a precautious individual. He must be capable, if they selected him among his peers. Maybe the two of you could pull this off.

Taking a few steps forward, you stopped in front of him and gazed up at him. The two of you stood beside a brick-wall building.

"Well, if we're going to pretend to be married, we'd better start practising," You smiled. And I know just how we can do that."

Confusion shone in his eyes as you smiled cheekily. You hooked an arm around his and began pulling him along. He stumbled a little and the bud in his mouth fell onto the floor. As you dragged him down the streets, chattering with ideas, an onlooker in one of the building's units watched from their balcony.

The owner of a pair of emerald green eyes watched curiously, a sphynx cat on their lap. Besides a vase of bright red flowers, a can of cat food sat on a table in the balcony. Deft fingers scratched the creature's wrinkles, eliciting a contented purr.

"I see," He muttered, his eyes following the pair in the street. "This will be interesting."

[kattartsblog]

Miss illuso, leave with us so we may treat you like the queen you are!!!