#// JOJO ; dialogue .

[sylferino]

you can 'learn more' by hitting the 'X' button at the top right corner of your browser

[ponury-grajek]

screenshot redraw from that one episode of jojo part 4 where josuke and okuyasu went on a date

[tacomedli]

funny caption here

[panoffrying]

The Choice

[theriverdraws]

Bit late to the party, BUT JUST FOUND OUT THEY'RE IN MULTIVERSUS HELLO??

Their animations and dialogue omg... This is a dream come true for me. (My past with ppg/ppgz is so extensive it's crazy, it was my first fandom).

[calmbigdipper]

What you mean to me

[strawberrycherriesncream]

The sbr gang as an actual gang would be amazing. The shit they would get into. Arguing all the damn time but ready to throw hands the second anyone fucked with someone in the group. Just long days out horse riding across America with batshit people trying to kill ya.

The gang being; Gyro, Johnny, Diego, Hot Pants, Lucy, Mountain Tim and Soundman.

Lucy gets to be the little sister that accidentally ended up traveling with them.

Gyro making coffee and Diego saying he’d marry him if he could bc he’s a coffee addict then Johnny would subtly try to commit murder before Gyro could stop him.

Hot Pants would be sick of everyone’s shit within five minutes of having to listen to Diego and Johnny argue then yelling at them to knock it off only for Diego to say that Johnny started it, thus prolonging their argument.

The gang finding another campsite a good mile or so away besides Gyro and Johnny because everyone else noticed there was definitely something going on with them.

Then at the final stage they would all part ways and race to the finish. Just letting everyone live.

[outoftoucherlocksholmes]

happy stone ocean day everybody

[corpsoir]

sexy killing spree sunday or whatever

based on this:

[ambyandony]

i had a vision

alternative fugo internal dialogue: what if i killed everyone in this car right now

[pastelsailorr]

Expectation vs Reality

[deusluxuria]

don't know if i've ever posted this tiny fanfiction snippet but it's equal parts autistic!jotaro, kakyoin's mental health, friendship, and one-sided jotakak all in one because i'm da joker babey

( content notes: non-graphic mentions of self-harm )

Polnareff saw the self-inflicted cuts on Noriaki's arms and didn't understand.

He'd caught him at a fragile moment, and Noriaki made a scene. Yelling. So then, all of us knew he was cutting.

That night, with he and I sharing a room, his head was still aflame with rage when he came in. Getting ready for bed, he stomped around and slammed everything.

I was shrinking again. Trembling on the inside. So when he came out from the bathroom in his pajamas, I told him, "I know you're pissed off, but please don't slam things and make loud noises. I don't take it very well."

I was surprised he didn't get angrier. He gazed at me, then dragged his hands down his face, "Fuck, I'm sorry..."

"...Wanna talk about it...?" I asked tentatively.

I could feel his temper rising again. "I... I don't know how to talk about it. It's just... people don't get it, they think I'm some kind of freak, but I'm really trying! I try so hard. But I don't know what else to do except that... It's the only thing that helps!"

"Self-harming is?"

"Yes. And no one understands. They just judge me and make it so much worse. Like they've never been through anything bad. But they just don't care. No one cares! How do I know all of you don't hate me!? You just tolerate me because we have no choice!!"

"...If you need to hit someone, I'm right here."

He relaxed a little, stunned. "Why would I do that...?"

I shrugged comically.

"...You would really let me hit you? You won't hit back?"

"Go ahead. I promise."

Noriaki inhaled loudly through his nose. I stood up and got in front of him. He seemed to study me for a moment.

"Okay... Okay... Okay, here I go...!"

I relaxed for impact.

He took a swing, but then stopped at the last second, merely tapping his fist into the center of my chest.

And then he started laughing. Quietly, breathy at first. Then growing into a release of cheerful heaving, placing both of his hands on my chest and joining his forehead with them, laughing into me.

I couldn't help it, I started giggling too.

The way he looked up at me when he took his face away from my chest... I should've known. I should've seen it, then, how in love with me he was.

[jojotransparents]

diavolo transparent [ch. 571]

[xochy]

Aww. Do you want to talk about it? Or anything else on your mind?

Not really.

Thanks for asking though.

Ah I see- More knocking? At this hour? May as well answer. It better not be that asshole again

BUCCIARATI?!

Hello Abbacchio, I hope you don't mind the late night visit, but there's something I wanted to talk to you about... Some weather huh

[gaygayaurel]

they invented real love (sketches)

[fruchtfleisch-art]

kirashino fic prompt: sacrifice, dance (literal or figurative), and/or “when they’re not looking”

Kirashino microfic #2/?: Sacrifice/"When they're not looking"

Being married is all about compromising. Sharing space. Encroaching on your partner’s time. Cleaning up messes you didn’t make, spending money you didn’t earn on purchases you don’t really care about. It’s a decade-spanning war of attrition, compromise after compromise until the base bedrock of individuality is eroded to fine powder, never to reform.

Kira, lucky man that he is, has skipped right to that stage in Kosaku’s marriage. The man he’s impersonating doesn’t have a personality so much as preferences, and boring ones at that. He’s trapped in a dead-end job, but unable to take time off to find a different one. There’s no flex in the Kawajiri budget for anything outside of rent and loan payments. His wife buys his clothes and cooks his meals and tidies up after him. What’s left for himself?

It's a living situation that would make him deeply depressed, if he had any intention of staying in it. Kira is just biding his time, waiting for the perfect opportunity to destroy the people who seem dead-set on exposing his identity. Until then, he can’t rock the boat too much. Sacrifices must be made.

That’s why, even after an exhausting workday, Kira said yes to an office get-together at a nearby restaurant. He watches the hours sluggishly tick away as the people around him get loud and unruly and start saying things like lighten up, Kawajiri, would it kill you to smile?

This job is a bit like a marriage, too. He can’t wait to be rid of it.

Shinobu came with him, but he’s keeping her at arm’s length, unsure of how they’re supposed to act in public. He pointed her towards a gaggle of other women when they arrived and hasn’t seen her since.

The restaurant’s air conditioning is on the fritz and the air is muggy and stagnant, nidorous with the mingled odors of cigarette smoke and fried food. Kira feels tired and vaguely nauseous, recoiling from an good-natured touch on his shoulder like it's a spider bite. He’s had too much to drink, but not enough to enjoy himself. It wouldn’t do him any good to slip up here and reveal something incriminating.

Eventually, he stands, muttering something about the bathroom, and meanders his way to the front door, then outside. Just for a few minutes, he tells himself, knowing it’s a lie. The cool night air on his face is far more refreshing than anything they were drinking inside.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been when the door swings open and Shinobu slips out to join him. “There you are. Ready to go home?”

“We can stay longer if you want-“

“I don’t.”

It’s strange. Kira thought she would do well in a large group, given how desperate for attention she is at home. He says as much, couching it in much softer terms.

“I just don’t really have anything to talk about with those people,” she says, laughing self-consciously. “My day-to-day is so boring. Maybe if I had a degree or a career or something, it’d be different.”

“Let’s do something you want to do next time, then,” he says, knowing full well there won’t be a next time. Shinobu lights up, all smiles again, the way she is when it's just the two of them.

“You’re such a nice guy. Really. Thanks for letting me tag along.” She takes his hands in hers. “Give me a kiss?”

The moment is all wrong: Kira can’t imagine a less romantic scenario than this, the two of them huddled up outside a dirty restaurant storefront, neon signage casting them in harsh pinks and yellows. He’s not drunk, but not exactly sober, either. At any moment one of his coworkers could come bursting through the entrance and see them.

But nobody does. He stoops to give Shinobu a peck on the lips, pulling her in close, and then they’re off.