#gouudin

[thanbeefy]

cosplay my dad. you have the potential for it

I hope you mean Jonathan, because I want to cosplay him… If you mean, Dio… I could… Try?

[aerreoarchived-blog]

あなたはいつも私の夫になるだろう ♥

          ” いつもあいしてる” 

[aerreoarchived-blog]

the one with the dark hair resembles narancia somewhat, so…..

           “Does this make me the husbando?” 

[slainbythesunandstars-archi-blog]

【 @gouudin 】

      [ ☀ ] -- Anger had a certain way of effect even him, someone who had  nearly perfect control over himself ( or at least liked to believe so ) and forced even the worst of twists and turns to work for him. 

     A premature death and the slipping of the stone through his very fingers were two different forces that inevitably joined into one with how straightforwardly they were attached-- and both were an unthinkably powerful push to his pull. The missed phone call had been proof enough that this was a wall that would have to be torn down with his hands, and completely destroyed once it lay at his feet. Not even the ashes could be left; that was the extent of how troublesome this might become. Normally, he would be put out with how much attention this would require when his efforts could be focused solely on one goal alongside the fact that such a strong reaction could be provoked by a mishap-- though, it was a very unexpected and uncalled for ‘mishap’. If he was going to feel provocation, then he would make it known in his own way that would be such a silent disaster only the echoes of it could possibly be heard and recognized. 

     However, it seemed this hypothetical wall being built in blatant attempt to obstruct him ( which he knew would be in utter vain ) stretched beyond what he had first anticipated. 

     Sharp eyes and open ears were able to pick up on bits and pieces of information left lying around that not only implied, but perhaps even proved, that there was a possible third party in all of this. One that did very little to hide the fact that they were most likely against him. That was to be expected, if not found quite exasperating-- and in other circumstances, maybe even amusing. They were careful, concise, and even secretive; not enough, though. That much showed that this unknown individual had so little idea of who they were tracking and trying to deal with in their own methods it could be laughable. But they would show themselves soon enough, or give themselves away in any other case. 

     And, as it turned out, the latter turned out to present itself when he was the most aware of it. 

     On a night as desolate and cold as this one with the snow and brilliant white moonlight to contrast his dark apparel and intentions, another presence that had only lingered about in the connection of his thoughts with happenings and reasoning, finally let themselves slip out from the shadows they’d seemingly so carefully covered themselves with. If they thought he was limited to a humane panorama in all form of senses, they would be sorely wrong. 

     “You’ve done relatively well in hiding yourself until now, but not so much can be said for your actions. Don’t deny your presence; I know you’re there.”

     Kars’ voice slipped out as icily as the night it was spoken into, edged like a knife aimed towards the only unwanted company he had besides his own quieted thoughts. He could assume they had not meant to be found out, and he could also assume that they were waiting for him to speak up in the insinuation that they knew he could easily pinpoint and trap them while they lingered and crept about. He did not intend to let the opportunity slip by. If one pest could be crushed and swept aside, then so be it. 

     “Well?”

[prontocapo-blog]

gouudin liked your starter call

Nails dig into the polished oak arm of the office couch as the boy stirs from his sleep, and pulls himself into an upright position. Naps in the middle of the day were unintentional; lack of sleep had begun to wear on his shoulders during his routine. Sometimes he couldn’t help but slowly slip into unconsciousness when his body had the faintest sign of comfort. 

He doesn’t look rested, and it’s because he isn’t. A certain fear shoots through every nerve as he realizes Giorno Giovanna is standing in front of him, and he quickly tries to catch his composure. 

“B-Boss!” how unnatural to say, suddenly. “S-sorry! I-I didn’t mean to d-doze off... I only closed my eyes for a second!”

[aerreoarchived-blog]

i love you so much rhea!!!!!!!!!!!! thinking about you makes me really happy and even if there's been miscommunication i'm so very glad you're my friend. i'm so glad we're communicating proper and actually investing effort into each other, because i'm willing to do everything i can to help you, to make you happy. i admire you in every way - ooc, and ic, as you're a terrific writer and an inspiration to me. talking to you soothes me, and i hope we remain friends for as long as possible <3

anonymously message me anything you want to tell me before 2015 ends

[prontocapo-blog]

dallas ily sm idk if it's talking about doppio, playing gmod or discussing the origin of the potato i'm always happy to talk to you and i want our friendship to last forever because you're one of my best friends and i adore you so much <3

anonymously message me anything you want to tell me before 2015 ends.

[prontocapo-blog]

there was little in giorno's mind tonight, alcohol and emotions draining most of his energy - him finally, after hours of isolation, having placed himself next to doppio. it was not a mistake. barely any movement could be detected on the boy's face ; until lips parted. ❝ do you love me ? ❞

Doppio was taken aback at first by the question. His mind once again being thrown into the midst of a ongoing struggle; one to determine the whereabouts of his loyalty - past and present. Waves of conflicting ideals, fears, & hopes flooding his conscious and nearly drowning him where he sat just as it had so many times before. But surprise fades from his expression as he swallows his own burdens down, even as the drag of paranoia continues to bear threat of pulling him out to sea.

He forced a physical reaction, hand reaching out to gently place atop the other’s (what was touch again?) and eyes settling upon the soft features of someone who appeared to crumble as surely as he did, no matter how golden. Drawing his coat a little closer with his other hand, there’s a moment of silence before Doppio gives his answer, eyes fluttering shut. 

No. No. I hate you. No.A bitter truth is spoken instead.

“I do.”