#giogio asks

[jei-rifni]

i appreciate your giorno so much. keeping the chest window with the tiniest peek of a bra is so cute. my beloved. flat justice

She’s my faveeeee

[mylove-thresher]

MY DAD JUST SAID GIORNO IS SO MUCH OF A FAGGOT THAT TRISH IS A MAN IN COMPARISON??.?.? HELLO??..?..?. 😨

[tea-stained]

is it still controversial to say that jotaro is overrated and overhyped

and that giorno is actually not a bad protag at all

[ask-team-bucciarati]

is giogio aware hes such a bit#h

I don't think I'm a bitch.

-Giorno Giovanna

[advestager]

trick or treat!

do mythology daydreams count as halloween costumes? they do now

[syunkiss]

AT THE COPA

COPACABAAANAAAAAA

[inquirepannacottafugo]

You don’t have to be single if you don’t want to be. 🙇‍♀️

@giorno-askvanna

I'm aware of free will, I'm just unsure on why you sent this ask to me, Giogio. What did you mean by this?

[cornetnspinet]

✧˖° take me home

giorno is a fifteen-year-old the gang doesn't know much about. bruno realises that after he's helped him become a mafia boss.

post-canon, everybody lives au english isn't my first language. i haven't watched vento aureo in its entirety in a minute. yes I started writing this and realised that fugo probably shouldn't be there yet but whatever this isn't very serious.

the soft sound of quiet chatter and cutlery make for background noise at libeccio. giorno sips his cup of tea, thinking, as bucciarati places a plain manila folder on the table in front of him.

“those will be the first things you should go over, i believe. you’ll have more to go through later, but i still advise you rest the most you can for now.” the capo says as he takes a seat at the table.

it’s only a few days after diavolo’s death, and while giorno is now Pasionne’s don, they still need to formalise his status to the rest of the mafia.

giorno opens the file to skim through it, making note of how thick it is for a first summary. contact names from all over italy, including other capos’, important locations, passione’s legitimate businesses, territorial control, a brief rundown on the drug trade. he has a lot to learn about the organisation he runs, he realises.

“you should probably look at it more closely at your desk at home-” bucciarati says before giorno can read the papers too thoroughly. after a brief pause, he adds, “are you still in boarding school, by the way?”

giorno looks up at bucciarati. he did go back to his dorm when they came back to napoli, it being where he keeps all of his belongings and all. but now, given the job that he had, he wasn’t sure he’d even stay in school at all. “i am. but i’m planning on moving out.”

giorno doesn’t think his answer through though, because in reality he’s not sure where he’ll go immediately.

thankfully, bucciarati already knows what the younger boy is thinking about.

“if you need a place to stay, you could always come to my house.” the capo kindly tells him.

giorno learned bucciarati lived in vomerro with narancia, and now trish. fugo had an apartment next door, which had been signed in bucciarati’s name, since he wasn’t old enough to have it under his own.

“i uh, i might do that, if you don’t mind.”

“will your parents agree to it?”

“yes.” giorno answers a bit too quickly. there was no way he was going back to live with his mother. it’s a silly thing to ask, he thinks, he’s the head of the neapolitan mafia. but bucciarati is bucciarati and giorno knows he means well.

bucciarati stares at him, his blue eyes scanning his face. then he tells him warmly, “that’s fine with me. you should be able to come whenever you want. i’ll turn another room into a study for passione business, so you can keep your room for school and whatnot.”

giorno blinks, “i was thinking of maybe dropping out, actually.”

the older man frowns and sighs, leaning back in his chair, “i know this is a lot to take in, and that is why i’m telling you to go easy on yourself, but you should stay in school, giogio.”

giorno looks at him, dumbfounded. “i just became the boss of passione, bucciarati.”

“and you are still only fifteen-”

“i’ll be sixteen next week.”

bucciarati makes a quick mental note of that, “-and now that we have taken over passione, we have time to do the things we planned on doing. taking down the drug trade is not going to be done in a day, and you won’t be doing it alone. you will have time for school, giorno.” his voice is gentle but firm, and that reminds giorno that bucciarati is older than him. it reminds him that he, himself, is not an adult yet.

giorno stays silent, sensing bucciarati would not let this go. his hand absentmindedly toys with one of the corners of the manila folder on the table. he thinks for a minute as he watches bruno refill his cup of tea. strangely, he feels a little like a child, and he has not experienced that in a while. probably something to do with his upbringing. he tries not to think about it too hard.

“alright. i’ll think about it.” giorno finally says.

“please do.” bruno responds. he takes a sip of his drink. “when is your birthday, exactly?”

a few days later, giorno is standing in bucciarati’s kitchen, carefully taking a few slices of bread off the grill. it’s starting to be late in the afternoon. he’s appreciating the orange hues coming through the big windows. he’s been going over some mafia trade reports all day and it’s made him blue.

the whole gang is here, their chatter can be heard coming from the sunroom behind him. after moving in, giorno realised the rest of the team regularly came over, whether it was for work or just to spend time together.

he told himself he had never lived in a house this full before when he arrived, spending his first dinner there with bucciarati, narancia, trish and fugo. but now that abbacchio and mista came almost every day as well, he’s even more surprised. even when living at his boarding school he’d often eat alone and spend time on his own.

giorno leaves the kitchen with his plate of fettunta in hand, joining the rest of the gang in the sunroom. he’s been eating fettunta almost every day, which is something he was always used to having as a kid, with it being very easy to make. but since he started living with bucciarati, he realised expensive olive oil made a real difference. he’s emptied an embarrassing amount of it from the bottle in very few days.

“i don’t know why i have to do this much,” narancia whines, “my english teacher hates me already anyway.”

the boy is half-slumped on the table in the centre of the room, his homework in front of him. he went back to school recently, and fugo has been helping him catch up a little bit.

“you’re trying, that’s what matters,” fugo tries to politely encourage him, despite the annoyance present in his voice. it’s true that narancia has been complaining about school every time the subject was brought up.

giorno sits next to mista, who passes him the water pitcher absentmindedly after he asks for it.

“you’re always listening to english music narancia, you must know some,” mista says.

“well, i don’t know what they’re saying, dumbass, that’s why i’m learning english,” narancia responds, before fugo urges him to focus.

bucciarati passes behind narancia to take his seat at the table, and as he does so, he takes a look over his shoulder. giorno knows the capo is proud of the younger boy for going back to school. he learned recently that bucciarati never got to finish his education. it made more sense why he asked him to keep attending.

abbacchio is also there, reading, barely paying attention. he doesn’t speak much when he comes over, and if giorno didn’t know of his bond with bucciarati and the gang, he would have wondered why he stayed.

trish is in her room. she doesn’t leave it much, and no one blames her. she’s still readjusting to a life she doesn’t know much about yet.

the landline rings through the house, disturbing the comfortable atmosphere. bucciarati gets up and makes a beeline for it, and picks it up from its spot in the open living room. from the corner of his eye, giorno sees the capo frown.

“who is this? oh!” the man’s face relaxes. “i’ll put him on the phone.” he turns to the sunroom, “giogio, it’s for you.”

giorno gets up and bucciarati hands him the phone, mouthing ‘it’s your mother’. giorno’s shoulders tense, and he hopes bucciarati doesn’t notice. the man returns to the table in the next room to give them some space.

he holds the phone to his ear. “hello?”

“haruno,” it’s undoubtedly his mother speaking, “i’ve heard you left boarding school?” her voice is curious, and maybe a little hesitant.

giorno is surprised she cares enough to call. “i’m not a full-time boarder anymore, but i still attend classes. how did you get this number?”

“the administration said it was the new contact you gave them. what are you doing now anyways? are you working?”

giorno sighs, realising his mother would be wondering about whether he’s making money. “i am.”

“well, how is it going? what are you doing?” she continues, suddenly more interested.

“i’m running a business and it’s going well. did you want to know anything else?” his voice is cold. he just wants the conversation to end quickly.

“well, i was just checking on you-”

“okay, now you have. goodbye.” he says and hangs up before she can ask anything else.

he sets the phone down, letting out a breath he was unconsciously holding in. he’s suddenly aware of how silent the house has become. he turns to the sunroom and finds everybody staring at him.

“what?” giorno asks, wondering if his demeanour on the phone was a bit too strange.

“dude, you speak chinese?”

“it’s japanese , narancia,” fugo corrects right away.

oh. he must have switched without noticing. he hadn’t spoken it in a while, but he still used it with his mother during the very rare instances where they’d have a conversation together.

“i do. i’m half japanese.”

even abbacchio’s mouth slightly falls open at that. obviously, the whole gang can tell giorno has some east asian features, but with his blonde hair and deep knowledge of napoli and its mafia, they weren’t expecting to actually hear him speak japanese.

“wait, where were you born?” mista asks, now very curious.

giorno walks back to his seat at the table, “i was born in japan. moved here when i was five.” he answers plainly.

“wait, that’s so cool!” narancia exclaims, his worksheet now forgotten.

“that’s very impressive. though i’m guessing you don’t have the occasion to speak it much in italy,” fugo says, smiling.

“no. i also don’t really know how to read or write in it.”

bucciarati, dumbfounded at first, now looked content and amazed. “it could still be very useful for the future. knowing multiple languages is always an asset, especially in the mafia,” the last part is more or less a hint for narancia to take his english class more seriously.

however, the younger boy doesn’t really pick up on that. “wait, i know some spanish!” he says energetically instead.

“you do?” mista asks, perplexed.

then, with the most concentration he can muster, narancia slowly says “Que et bombin! ”

mista blinks, unimpressed. “that’s not spanish.”

“one of my friends was spanish and used to say it all the time!”

“well, it’s not-”

“okay, narancia, you should focus on your english homework,” bucciarati intervenes. he turns to giorno, who is now quietly biting into a slice of bread, before fugo starts asking him questions about japan.

bucciarati takes a minute to really look at him. he can acknowledge giorno is smart and undoubtedly strong, he has seen him save him and the rest of the team more than once in the short time they have known each other. but he also recognises there aren’t many things he knows about him.

he has noticed giorno didn’t bring much from his old dorm when he moved in. a couple of books and some clothes. he wondered if he had any hobbies. the other day, narancia made him and trish listen to a couple of CDs he owns. between narancia’s rap music and trish’s taste for all saints and other pop groups, giorno admitted enjoying british rock when it came on the radio. it’s as much as he’s learned about him.

of course giorno is his boss, and he will respect him as such. but he has just seen him talk to his mother on the phone. he is still going to school. he is a sixteen-year-old.

almost. his birthday is tomorrow. a couple of wrapped jeff beck albums are sitting in a drawer in bucciarati’s room. bruno knows enough about giogio for now.

[rougepancake]

Hello there! I hope I'm not being rude but I saw that requests were open so I was wondering if it was okay to have a scenario where Giorno and Josuke get hit with a Stand and act different?

Giorno acts hyper, bubbly, and adorable while Josuke acts timid, meek and cute? And Reader has to handle all that cuteness?

I hope this follows the rules!

It follows the rules just fine!! I’ve actually seen a post with an ask that’s pretty similar to this one, so I’ll link it just in case you want more!! Here

FT. Giorno Giovanna, Josuke Higashikata

WARNINGS: none.

GIORNO GIOVANNA

Interesting. He seemed… happier than usual. More outgoing, too. Did something happen while you were out? Or was he simply just enjoying himself?

Either way, you found it to be adorable.

“Y/n! Look! It’s a ladybug!!” He rushed over to you for the third time this afternoon, proudly showing off the ladybug that was crawling around on the palm of his hand.

“Oh? Did you give this one a name too?” You tease, patting the spot beside you on your picnic blanket as a way to tell him to sit down. He had asked you to go outside with him earlier, and you just couldn’t tell him no.

“Not yet. But isn’t it adorable?” He sat down next to you, resting his head on top of your lap. He didn’t care about the book you were reading, pushing it to the side as he smiled up at you.

You smiled and ran your fingers through his hair, chuckling at his behavior.

He definitely got into something, but you weren’t worried about it. In fact, you quite liked this side of him. He was much more vulnerable and emotional, which was something that you didn’t typically see from Giorno unless the two of you were alone.

You guys stayed like that until he got bored, rising to his feet quickly and bringing you with him.

“Come on y/n! Let’s go bug hunting together!” He grinned and took your hand, squeezing it gently as he took you to where he found the ladybug.

“Alright! Calm down, GioGio!” You grinned and followed after him excitedly. How can you tell such a cute face no?

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA

He’s been quieter than usual, and seemed very keen on avoiding social interaction today. Even with you and Okuyasu.

He did say he had to do something earlier, but didn’t go into details as to what it was. It was strange, especially since he wasn’t even talkative.

It was like he was an entirely different person.

“Josuke?” You had been looking for him all afternoon, and had finally found him sitting underneath a tree in the park. “Goodness Josuke I was worried. Why did you run off like that??”

“I don’t know…” he mumbled, pouting as he avoided your gaze. Josuke not having an answer to something? That was new.

You sat down beside him, no questions asked, and rested your head on his shoulder. His face erupted into a deep red at the contact, a nervous chuckle escaping him. “You know I’m gonna like you no matter what, right?”

“Yeah…”

You snuggled into his side, leaning up so you could give him a kiss on the cheek. “So you know that I think you’re cute regardless of your mood?” He nodded reluctantly and you chuckled. He’s precious.

“I know…”

“Then come here you big baby!” You grabbed him and held him tightly, ignoring his embarrassed protests.

[starry-blue-echoes]

I found this old snippet 90% finished in my drafts so W O E, 2k words of Tonio being my favorite character and Mr.Giovanna slowly understanding that he is not in fact Giogio's father anymore <333

(also tw for implied/referenced child abuse since Giorno)

-------------

Tonio noticed the second the man approached Giorno’s table.

His customers knew better than to do so. They knew the boy was under his personal protection and it was best to steer clear. A greeting hello when the boy arrived, a brief exchange of conversation, an offered treat or trinket was of course allowed, but approaching his booth while Tonio was not present?

That was not common.

In fact, by the time Tonio made it out of the kitchen and to the dining area, the man had gathered quite a bit of attention from the other customers if the glances being cast his way were anything to go by.

The man was practically looming over Giorno’s booth, all but boxing the boy into his seat and talking in a low voice so as to not be overheard. Tonio couldn’t even see Giorno from his spot.

Tonio did not like this.

He did not like this one bit.

So plastering on his best Customer Service Smile, he approached.

“Excuse me sir,” he spoke up, keeping his voice light and pleasant. “My apologies, but at this establishment you must wait to be seated.”

The man turned to face him, not moving away from the booth and instead attempting to slide a softer, kinder mask over his features.

Hm.

It was sloppy, Tonio couldn't help but note. Sure the facial expressions were… passable, he supposed, but his body language was all wrong. Maybe spending so much time amongst the real dangers in Italy had made him a bit of a snob, but honestly this was laughable.

“Ah, you misunderstand sir, I’m not here to eat, though I have heard good things about this restaurant.” the man waved him off with what was supposed to be a lighthearted chuckle that only succeeded in feeling patronizing. “I’m here to pick up my son.”

“Oh?” Tonio responded with a slit tilt of the head, and a cold, cold feeling slipped into his gut. “You’re this boy’s father then? I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Step father, technically.” Mr.Giovanna explained, the veiled insult sailing clear over his head. “His mother already had him when I stepped into the picture, but I see and love him as my own.”

His smile got tighter when he saw Giorno, kind, smart, shy Giorno who loved frogs and ladybugs and the color pink and listening to Tonio talk about recipes, flinch.

“I see.” was all he offered.

Tonio knew so little. So, so little. Part of him knew it was purposeful. That he was giving himself plausible deniability. An empty comfort.

But he knew enough. He’d always known enough. More than enough really.

And now it was looking him dead in the eyes and spitting in his face, daring him to lie down and take it.

“Well, it’s getting late. We’d best be getting back to the house before your mother starts dinner. Come along, Giorno, you’ve taken up enough of this man’s time.” 

How long has he been standing idly by as he’d seen Giorno hurt? 

How many times has he knowingly allowed Giorno to return to that sorry excuse of a family? 

How many times has he merely nursed his injuries instead of doing anything to stop them from happening in the first place?

Well no longer.

“Actually, sir.” he interrupted. “I have some…. concerns I’d like to speak with you about.”

The man froze before slowly turning toward him.

There was a dangerous glint in his eyes and he not very subtly squared his shoulders to make himself look bigger.

“Oh?”

How funny. The man thought he was intimidating.

Tonio had done a bit of asking around about Giorno’s family when the boy hadn't been present. Nothing too nosey of course, just the standard gossip that was floating around which he generally got quite a lot of. 

And the results of his findings were quite fruitful.

Mr.Giovanna had a temper and was somewhat quick to anger, and he’d had a few dealings with the underworld, but that was as all. The man wasn't anyone important nor did he have any connections whatsoever.

He was just a simple, ordinary, powerless man.

A man who in the long run wouldn’t be able to do a thing to Tonio.

Tonio did not normally like taking advantage of his position, of the power he had at his fingertips. The near crippling fear of entrenching himself further and further into this world always had held him at bay, but in this moment he was more than willing to make an exception for this.

“Yes.” he made a slight show of stepping slightly closer to Mr.Giovanna and the booth seat, closer than was socially acceptable and a clear challenge to the man’s current proximity to Giorno. “And in all honesty, I’m not quite certain I feel comfortable allowing you to leave with this boy.”

“And for what reasons would that be?” Mr.Giovanna was openly glaring at him now, trying and failing to loom over a man who had a few centimeters on him.

“I notice things, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, keeping his words clipped and flat lest his rage bubble over. “Giorno has been a patron in my restaurant for well over a year now, and I am not nearly as blind or stupid as you appear to think of me. I may be a chef, but I am also very familiar with the practices of medicine and the healing processes of the human body.”

Sometimes Tonio loathed this skill of his. Of seeing the way people moved and being able to pinpoint exactly what was wrong, of seeing the lethargy and careful movements and stiffness and knowing of the presence of bruises or cigarette burns or broken skin.

(In a bitterly comforting way, Giorno had always liked that part of him. Of their shared skill. He said it made him feel less alone and less strange)

Mr.Giovanna simply sneered at him. “And why exactly are you paying so much attention to little boys?”

His rage surged at the accusation, howling and throwing itself against the cage he’d locked it inside, only made worse by the man’s smugness as though he’d just won and Tonio would back down.

Oh how he longed for his butcher’s knives. They cut through skin and muscle like warm butter and would so easily make short work of the man before him.

“You know very well that is not what I’m talking about.” much to his dismay, his calm mask had begun to crack at the edges, his voice growing more tense and taught with every prolonged moment. This man was managing to slide through every crack of his carefully constructed walls in ways the most vile, loathsome mafioso couldn’t, and all with hardly more than a few words.

This needed to end soon. Before Tonio did something he would regret. For Giorno’s sake.

“I am not going to allow you to leave this establishment with this child unless you can offer me a reasonable explanation for why he comes here with bruises every single week, and that is final.” 

A lie of course, he wasn’t letting Giorno go anywhere with this pathetic excuse of a father, no matter what excuses he scrounged up.

“Well I don’t owe you shit.” he snapped back, forgoing excuses and even denial of the accusations completely. At the very least, it seemed Tonio was getting under Mr.Giovanna’s skin just as badly. “I am going to be taking my son and we are going to leave. Giorno, come here right n-” but as the man tried to move Tonio out of the way and make a grab for the boy, Tonio grabbed his arm in an ironclad grip.

The man froze, surprised either by the strength or by the audacity.

Tonio’s expression didn’t falter.

“I think it would be best for you to leave, sir.”

For a second all was calm.

And in the next, pure fury overtook the man’s face.

The punch was quick and powerful, and Tonio barely had a moment to realize what was happening before he had both hands on the booth table to support his weight with a blooming pain in his jaw. With one of his hands he hesitantly brought it up to test the area, but while it would undoubtedly bruise and was rather tender, nothing felt broken or severely damaged.

Tonio should have seen the punch coming, but alas, hindsight is 20/20. He partially expected a second blow…. but it never came.

In fact, Mr.Giovanna was being awfully quiet.

His grin which had temporarily been chased from his face found itself sliding back into place once more.

It seemed the man finally noticed. Now that their conversation had reached a small pausing point, it was likely that much more obvious, but Tonio still couldn’t help but internally chuckle at the man’s horrendous observation skills.

It was dead silent in the restaurant.

The clicking of silverware, the murmur of conversation, the footsteps of the waitstaff, all of it had vanished into thin air.

And as Tonio stood back up to his full height, one merely needed to glance around the room to see why.

Every single customer and staff member was staring at them.

And not one was happy.

Expressions ranged from murderous fury to offended disgust to cold disapproval. Weapons of all types were in hand: knives, firearms, utensils, even a few Stands had joined the fray.

Sometimes being neutral felt like a curse, but in this moment? In this moment Tonio had never felt freer.

Because everyone respected the rules inside Trattoria Trussardi.

And those who didn’t……

“You’ve broken the rules, Mr.Giovanna.” Tonio spoke, a grin still on his face. Only now he let the pleasantries fade away. Now, he let his grin stretch wide and manic, filled with teeth and not quite reaching his eyes.

To an outsider, it was downright predatory.

And Mr.Giovanna, finally realizing the lion’s den he had stumbled headfirst into, froze.

But Tonio did not care.

Not one bit.

He nudged the man to the side with the back of his hand, and didn’t even resist the urge to wipe it on his apron afterwards. He’d need to wash his hands later, wouldn’t want the food suffering from whatever filth that man possessed.

“Giorno,” he asked quietly, his body relaxing and growing soft at the bright, vibrant hope sparkling in the boy’s eyes. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

Giorno’s eyes widened, growing glossy and shiny yet not a single tear spilt.

“I would.” he said in a hushed whisper, as though the words would break if he was too rough with them, and in Tonio’s heart the only regret he felt was that he hadn’t done this sooner.

He gently grabbed Giorno’s hand to tug him away from the booth seat with as much gentleness as he could, leading him toward the back door that led to the stairs up to his apartment. Giorno’s hand was so small, yet it clung to Tonio’s like a lifeline.

He would call Doppio later tonight to help with the paperwork, of course after Giorno had eaten and gone to sleep. He had more than enough spare funds for the shopping trip that would be required tomorrow, but it would also likely be best to ask if there was anything Giorno wanted from his now-ex-parents house. He’d likely have to rearrange some furniture upstairs, Giorno would need his own room obviously, maybe cash in a favor or two to help, and of course possibly transferring schools which meant even more paperwork-

But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he got to look forward to a nice, calm dinner that for the first time since inviting Doppio in wouldn’t be alone. 

And just as he nudged Giorno through the door…

“Marco.”

“Yeah Boss?”

Tonio liked Marco. A good head on his shoulders, a competent host and waiter, had potential for a manager position, always called in ahead of time if gang work interfered with his schedule, and on the rare occasion things got out of hand he was good at regaining order.

“I’m temporarily waiving the ‘no violence’ rule.” Tonio said. “Make sure nobody breaks anything important and if things get too noisy, see to it that it’s moved elsewhere.”

Marco’s eyes lit up with an emotion he didn’t dare to place, but his face remained stoic. “‘Course, Boss.”

Tonio looked back to the restaurant, his eyes soft and smile warm in a way that did not match the manic and horrifying implication of his words in the slightest.

“You have 30 minutes. Try to keep the mess to a minimum.”

The future looked bright and Tonio felt happy.

[jei-rifni]

Hold gio gently like bamhurger

[ask-crappy-mista]

WELCOME TO THIS EPIC BLOG 🔥🔥🔥

This blog was inspired by @low-quality-giogio, @dailyabba, @dailydoppy, and @inquirepannacottafugo

this blog is like, really ooc more than half the time, so please don’t get mad 😔

Please no nsfw asks, if they are sent, I’m gonna give you a random drawing instead

Mod ships Bruabba (won’t say more unless asked)

Mod goes by He/She/They (they don’t really care lmao)

If Mista doesn’t know how to respond, either he won’t answer or he’ll just give crappy art

PEOPLE WHO ARE EXTRA FREAKY ABOUT MISTA, DNI (yes I’m talking about you mista-s-property)

Abbacchio will probably only show up 5 times max

asks are always open unless stated so

HAVE A NICE DAY 🔥🔥🔥🔥

[giorno-askvanna]

As much as I don't like the other me, it also pains me to see you flounder.

Try getting a new book and just talk to him about it. Have some cake while you enjoying the book together. Hell, ask about papers he had to write in university or something.

Just figure it out, giogio

@ask-purple-haze

Hehe, I had seen yours and Fugo’s argument thread the other day. It made me laugh.

I will admit, your idea sounds better than simply anonymously buying him chocolates. We often read together, and I do enjoy reading his old Uni essays.

This whole Valentine’s Day mess is stressing me out. Unfortunately, my body cannot tell the difference between stressing out over a boy, and stressing out over an enemy capo encroaching on my territory.

[flesh-frogs]

[Image ID: A traditional black and white sketch. To the left, “GioGio” is written in some equivalent of cursive, with doodles of vines, ladybugs, and flowers trailing throughout the entire page.

Below “GioGio” is a doodle of Giorno and Buccellati having a conversation. “Well when I transitioned in the late 90’s without anyone knowing the girl I was became a missing persons case.” Giorno says, plain faced. He’s holding his wallet and giving a picture of Haruno Shinobana from it to Buccellati, who says “That’s fun.” With sparkles around his text. Giorno’s textbox is marked by a ladybug, while Buccellati’s is marked by a zipper.

in the middle of the page there’s a drawing of a ladybug, portions of Giorno’s face, and a larger redraw of a Giorno quote: “I’d probably give you half… … and ask you to be quiet.”

On the right upper corner there is a doodle of Giorno holding a stand arrow to himself with an intense expression. Diavolo faces Giorno, back turned to the camera. Diavolo starts, “Hey. Sorry if this is weird but are you one of the people who hate me?”

“Hello,” Giorno says. “That’s not weird at all. Yes I am.”

/. End ID.]

[normalaboutfugo]

"I can't find an ask box so I'mma just drop this here! I would love something with mafia boss GIORNO finding out his mom had another kid and pretty much goes feral to adopt them !! tyy"

𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐀 — 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐌.

⋆₊☆ ⊂⊃ platonic yandere don!giorno || m.list

[ warning :: PLATONIC/NOT ROMANTIC, kinda kidnapping, platonic yandere ]

[ notes :: first post!! thank you @foundfamyanderes for requesting!! <3 i can't remember what happened to gio's mom but just pretend she left giorno and had reader and left them too lol ]

[ important :: see this post on another blog? likely a repost to my rebranded multi-fandom blog! don't be afraid to check, but if they're not linked w me, let me know! <33 ]

— when giogio first learns his mother went on to have another kid, he wanted to have a genuine connection, and he did everything in his power to find them. what if you weren't doing so well on your own, assuming that your mother didn't care about you, like she didn't with him? there's no way he'd let his own blood live like this, especially when he was doing so well.

— giorno did everything he could to look for you, searched the internet under the last name shiobana to find a lead, he looked for his mom's profile online, and when he found it, he saw various pictures of drinks, club floors, everything you'd expect from someone like her.

— it took a long time, quite a bit of searching through what seemed like a million pictures of your mom partying — giorno scrolled for hours and hours, ignoring the way his eyes burnt when he looked at the screen for too long.

— finally, after he thought he was starting to fall asleep from staring at the bright computer screen for forever, he found multiple pictures of selfies from his mom with the head of a child in the background; cropped out the best if could be, but still quite obvious you existed.

— it took a long time to find you, but honestly, it confused giorno. why was he so hooked on meeting you? he only found out you existed a few days ago, and you didn't even know you had a half brother.

— when giorno finally found you, he had immediately introduced himself to you — not as the don, but as your brother. he wanted to have a genuine connection with you, because he never had a sibling, and while everyone in bucciarati's gang were like family, but blood ran thicker than water.

— and upon finding out you were broke and living on pickpocketing because your mother left you? giorno spoiled the fuck out of you. when he met you, he treated you to a meal at one of the nicest places in italy because he wanted to make a good impression, but when he finds out you're not used to such good dining and being treated well?

— most definitely takes you shopping for whatever you want, turning you down when you say you'll pay him back for it.

"Here, whatever you want."

"That's...! Giorno, no, I'll pay you back as soon as I ca-"

"With money you took? Don't worry about it, there's more than enough for you to have what you wanted."

— reader goes quiet real quick

— not long after meeting him, giorno offers you a place to live. the streets got cold at night, and he would know. gratefully, you accepted it; what else could you do?

— it doesn't take long for giorno to get overbearing. he'll start putting extra locks on the doors, and when questioned, express that he just wants you to feel safer in your new home.

"..Giorno, what's with the locks on the door?"

"The locks? Oh, I wanted to make sure you felt safe, is all. Is there a problem?"

"Well.. no, I just.. don't you think it's a bit much?"

"Mm.. no, I don't think so. You can never be too sure."

— he might even give you a curfew at first

— he'll give you the reasoning that the streets of italy aren't safe at later times, which is semi-true. it really wasn't safe to be roaming around at night, especially after you start living with the boss himself; word spreads like wildfire in passione, and a bounty would be placed on your head by traitors before you know it.

— eventually, a curfew turns into him spending every second with you during your outings, and that turns into you just not being allowed to leave the house at all.

— even if he needs to pull a few strings to find a reason to keep you home, he'll do what he needs.

"The strap on your bag, it's broken."

"Oh, yes.. I noticed a bit ago, but it's no big deal."

"That's fine, we can get you a new one today. There's got to be something identical somewhere."

"Should I get ready to go out, then?"

"No, you don't need to. We can find something online, or I can go find it at the store we bought it from."

"..Oh. Why?"

"I don't want you going out."

— when you bring up your concerns to him about not being allowed to leave, he takes it really well, as if he'd just up and abandoned his previous reasons for you being kept inside. and after that, you go to bed that night with relief, sleeping easily knowing that it's going to change.

— except for in the morning, when you're leaving the room, you turn the doorknob only to realize you were locked in from the outside. on the nearest table is a notepad, next to a plate of food and a cup of water. written in red ink,

"[READER],

It's wrong to lock you up, but I can't bring myself to put you in danger and allow you to leave. But I can also promise it's only temporary, I want you to be happy here. I had some business with the famiglia, so I left home quite early this morning. I will return, but while I'm not there, I left food and a glass of water next to this note. I'll be seeing you soon.

— Giorno

[astroreoreoreoreoreoreoreo]

FOR REFERENCE: 

@ stabberryy → Fugo

@ staborangee → Narancia

@ supermegaluckyniceguy → Mista

@ b.bucciarati → Bucciarati 

@ abbacchio1 → Abbacchio

@ giolikesbugs → Giorno

@ unaduetrishquattro → Trish

TEAM GC 

supermegaluckyniceguy: what if instead of fortnite it was called frotnite and we all started frotting

stabberryy: What?

giolikesbugs: ????

Reminder that this is a work group chat, strictly for work purposes.

:b.bucciarati

staborangee: Idk I kinda wanna group frot

unaduetrishquattro:  i can't believe i'm the first to ask.

unaduetrishquattro: what is frotting

stabberryy: Just looked it up. I'm going to give Nara the benefit of the doubt and assume he didn't know what it meant (or that it was a real word)

stabberryy: Mista stop being gross

unaduetrishquattro: BUT WHAT DOES IT MEAN

staborangee: I mean Trish can't participate anyway

unaduetrishquattro:  what? why

stabberryy: You don't wanna know.

giolikesbugs: I do :(

stabberryy: I promise you don't…

staborangee: LOL I know what it means and you guys don't :P 

stabberryy: so you're a weirdo too. Congrats 

staborangee:

stabberryy: Bruno can you do something about this

Mista don't make sex jokes :b.bucciarati

giolikesbugs: so this is about sex, somehow. Ok

staborangee: aren't you supposed to know everything, Fugo? How come you don't know what frotting is

stabberryy: One- I'm not an adult

stabberryy: Two- My parents never gave me the Talk

stabberryy: Three-  I'M NOT FUCKING GAY

supermegaluckyniceguy: bro threw in a fun fact

giolikesbugs: ok so it's gay .

staborangee: I'm not gay either you're just stupid LOL

stabberryy: kys

staborangee: you first :P

unaduetrishquattro: oh my god nvm I don't wanna know

unaduetrishquattro: also Fugo your parents didn't give you the Talk?

stabberryy: No. My parents didn't fucking “talk” to me

giolikesbugs: I think I know what it is. Fugo I will get answers out of you

unaduetrishquattro: wait come tell me once you've got them

stabberryy: I'M NOT TELLING YOU YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW

giolikesbugs: you won't need to “tell” me. I will know by your face :)

giolikesbugs: also Trish I thought you didn't want to know?

unaduetrishquattro: I changed my mind. I don't want to not know

stabberryy: Why. Why do you want to know

stabberryy: Do you have some bizarre desire to be as disgusted with Mista as I am right now.

unaduetrishquattro: I'm always disgusted with Mista

supermegaluckyniceguy: what the fuck guys :(

stabberryy: I DON’T WANNA FUCKING HEAR IT

giolikesbugs: oh dear

stabberryy: YOU KNOW HOW EASY IT WOULD’VE BEEN TO KEEP YOUR GODDAMN MOUTH SHUT???

stabberryy: BUT NOOOOOO 

stabberryy: HEAVEN FUCKING FORBID 

supermegaluckyniceguy: it is not that deep my guy

stabberryy: I’M SICK OF YOUR SHIT

stabberryy: YOU AND YOUR FUCKING FROTTING

staborangee: Bruno help

No. He's right :b.bucciarati

abbacchio1: Fugo. shut the fuck up

  Abbacchio. :b.bucciarati

abbacchio1: your kids are blowing up my phone. I'm trying to actually work here

You're right, sorry. Fugo stop blowing up Abbacchio’s phone

:b.bucciarati

stabberryy: WHY ONLY ME

staborangee:

supermegaluckyniceguy:

@ stabberryy has left.  

giolikesbugs: I'm going to go calm him down. And ask him if I'm right about frotting

unaduetrishquattro: you probably shouldn't 

giolikesbugs: but I want to know?

unaduetrishquattro:  yes and we want you to survive 

giolikesbugs: I think I can beat Fugo in a fight

staborangee: no the fuck you cant 

supermegaluckyniceguy: what he said

giolikesbugs: No 

@ giolikesbugs has left.

supermegaluckyniceguy: bro just said “no” and left. that's crazy

unaduetrishquattro: rip giogio it was nice knowing him :(

staborangee: if he dies i'm taking his room 

supermegaluckyniceguy: wtf no i want his room

staborangee: ahh too late. go fuck yourself 🤣

abbacchio1: please shut the fuck up. everyone

unaduetrishquattro: just turn your phone off 🙄

abbacchio1:  no. I need it to communicate

abbacchio1: aren't you all in the same goddamn house right now?? just go talk to each other 

abbacchio1:  pretend it's 1856 or whatever it is

supermegaluckyniceguy: m'lord is ailed with only the most disastrous of ailments- ligma 

abbacchio1: I'll kill you in your sleep. when you wake up on the roof in the middle of the night you'll know who put you up there

unaduetrishquattro: oh my god???

supermegaluckyniceguy: fine I’ll stop talking damn 

abbacchio1: that's better 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Meanwhile:

Fugo (currently being restrained by a bunch of vines): you can't get me to tell you >:(

Gio: I don't like repeating myself. 

Fugo: From my face, you said? You'll know from my face? Hah!

Gio: Yes. you usually make a face when you're talking about something that embarrasses or disgusts you. this does both of those things

Fugo: Fine. Then I won't let you see my face!

He covers his face with his hands.

Gio: …

Gio turns his shirt into butterflies. On instinct, Fugo drops his hands to cover his chest.

Fugo: GIVE ME MY SHIRT BACK WHAT THE FUCK

Gio: In a moment. First- 

Gio:

Fugo’s face gets really red. He looks disgusted and embarrassed. 

Gio: ok cool i'm right. thank you for your help

The shirt is restored. Fugo is still very unhappy.

Fugo: whatever. leave me alone

Gio: ok :)

Gio leaves to go talk to Trish.

Trish: did you fucking stand battle him???

Gio: yeah kind of. anyway I got the answer

He tells her.

Trish: oh my god that's disgusting I wish I never knew

Gio: yeah Fugo was right I feel rather violated

Gio: I'm gonna go apologize to him

Trish: can I come with you

Trish: I don't wanna be with Narancia and Mista they're being too gross for me

Gio: Sure ok

They go apologize to Fugo. He’s still annoyed but he recovers fairly quickly and they go play Uno or something. Yay the end. 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I can’t believe I wrote this much because of a stupid tweet on the internet. I can’t even find the tweet now. This is ridiculous…………………………………………………………