#bururururu

[takenthenapkin-blog]

[Equip 'American Flag']

     He supposed, in a manner of speaking, that this was ‘patriotic’ garments. But… quite frankly, with this outfit on, he felt like a joke. Was this a mockery of America?

“… How tacky.”

[tetraphobia-blog]

The Artist Formerly Known As Capo || [closed; bururururu]

There was something so familiar yet oddly, interestingly foreign about the purple boy before Mista. Something sinister yet innocent, Mista couldn’t place his finger on it. What he did know, however, was that they had never met.

There was something familiar though, something that caught Mista staring, something he hoped the other wouldn’t notice.

What Mista did hope he noticed was the matching sweaters they had on! Finally! Someone who could understand his fashion!

“Hey man nice sweater!”

[coldbloodedjockey-blog]

If You’d Like To Place A Call Please Hang Up and Try Again [[closed; bururururu]]

This was utterly stupid, utterly awfully and horrendously idiotic. Why had they insisted on keeping him here so long? Is this what they wanted? To see how angry Diego could get cooped up in one place with nothing to do and parts of himself missing? Was this a game ?

The sharp clack of boots was followed instantly by the metallic clang of spurs on cement. He could take them off and dress normally, but then how would everyone know his status as a world renown jockey? No, conforming to societies standards could wait for the presence of his pride.

He had just brought Silver Bullet out and was letting the old girl rest in a stall nearby, stretch her legs in the pasture and get out of the apartment shes miserably cooped up in. He couldn’t hurt her like that.

The walk back to his apartment wasn’t a lnog one, but the entire way there he felt like people were watching him, multiple people, and turned to find just one person there.

“Is there anything I, DIO, can do for you?” It didn’t hurt to ask what seemed like a lost child a question, especially for posterity.

[goosewithmanybells]

@bururururu

Kagura lived in an apartment. With three rooms-- but she’d only met two roommates! So, the logical answer... 

Is to sneak into the third room! Which is why when the owner of the room returns, opening the door, they come across the peculiar sight of a young Yato girl strewn across their floor, reading their magazines and eating whatever food they’d had in their room.

She looks up lazily, mouth full--

“Did not your mother teach you to knock, yes?!”

And she berates them for being rude, despite being the intruder in this situation.