#jojopart7

[spicydragonart]

Gyro cover redraw

[wald-prinz]

Please, please, please let me get what I want this time

Happy SBR day everyone

[qshlyns]

get it vogue

used capcut genuinely for the first time ever holy cow do i feel like a frickin DINOSAUR

[peanutbe]

jojo part 7 is today

ARE U READYYY

[marcabelart]

Yeehaw 2

[planxtas]

𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎; seven

࿔*:･ﾟvii.

next: ࿔*:･ﾟviii. |  table of contents

THE FIRST thing you did when you first woke up was bring a hand to your face. When you found that your hat was still there, you let out a small sigh of relief and sat up to adjust it properly. Your fingers brushed over the familiar embroidery on the edge of the hat, feeling your tense shoulders slowly fall to their natural places. A yawn soon escaped you and you turned to look at the rising sun while rubbing at your eyes, squinting every now and then until your eyes adjusted to the light of the dawn. As you peeled your sleeping bag off yourself, Thunderstruck trotted over to you with a huff.

"Good morning, girl," you rasped out, patting Thunder's snout with a smile. Thunder nudged your hand and then looked at your bag which held a few apples you had scavenged a day earlier. There were only two and Thunder seemed eager to have them now, pawing at the dirt. "Yeah, yeah, okay," you chuckled, turning to take the apples out and turning back to find all four of the horses standing in front of you. Your eyes widened before a string of laughter left your lips.

"Let's see if I can break these up," you muttered, placing your thumbs in the pit at the top of an apple, trying to split it in half. You grimaced as you struggled to pull it apart, pushing your thumbs into the top until suddenly, it split clean in half. You looked at it owlishly, blinking harshly until you almost let out a yell of delight. Thunder had nudged your head over to face the still sleeping men nearby, making you grumble under your breath. Being alone was really starting to sound better than being around these men— well, so far, Mountain Tim had been the sweetest so you really didn't mind having him around.

"...anyways, here you go Thunder, and here's another half for you." Mountain Tim's horse ate up the apple quickly, shaking its head graciously once it had its share while Thunder ate it one bite. You reached over to grab the other apple and repeated the motion you had done earlier until it split. Johnny and Gyro's horses were quick to come up to your outstretched hand, eating the apple halves much slower than the other two. Once the halves were gone, Gyro's horse proceeded to lick your hand, making you laugh quietly, reaching out a hand to pat the horse's snout until your wrist was pulled away.

"What the hell are you doing to Valkyrie?" spat Gyro, pulling your arm until you were halfway into the air. Johnny and Mountain Tim were waking up from around the campfire, eyes widening as they saw Gyro hold you up. You scrambled to get out of his grip, pulling at your own arm with fear filling every crevice of your body. "I asked you a question, Speedwagon!" He threw you to the floor, leaving you to push away from him while you held your hat to your head.

"Woah, Gyro, calm down," Johnny urged while Slow Dancer trotted over to him, placing something into its owner's hand. Johnny grimaced but inspected it regardless, finding it to be a chunk of apple. With a sigh, he gave it back to Slow Dancer who took it back graciously as Johnny dragged himself over to Gyro. "He was just giving the horses some apples," he assured as you nodded fervently while getting to your feet awkwardly. Mountain Tim nodded from his spot on the ground.

"I was watching the whole time," Tim avowed which made you flush, "and, if they were poisonous, I would've known. I tend to have the nose for those kinda things." Gyro, albeit still barely convinced, gave a dismissive wave of his hand, stomping over to his sleeping bag which he then proceeded to roll up. As you rubbed at your sore wrist, Mountain Tim gave you an assuring nod that washed away the wave of fear.

You slowly made your way back over to your sleeping bag, conscious of the still angry man near you, and proceeded to roll it up as well. Thunderstruck was quick to walk over to her owner, bending her neck so that you could place it back in your bag. Then came the saddling up— you knew you wouldn't be successful on the first try but went through the process anyway, grimacing when you ended up hanging halfway off the saddle.

A snort came from behind you, but you didn't dare look and see who it was, face burning as you tried hopping onto the saddle again and failed. There was a bit more muffled laughter and you almost cried when you still weren't able to get on your horse. It didn't help that Mountain Tim was walking over to help. Once more, you threw yourself onto the saddle and pulled yourself up, panting from under your bandana.

"Guess you didn't need my help after all," smiled Mountain Tim as he, Johnny, and Gyro effortlessly saddled up. You hummed and pulled down the brim of your hat, cheeks aflame. "Let's get going then." Before any of them could even react, you were off, leaving the three to stare after you for a moment. "Er, we should go too..." said Mountain Tim as he pulled Ghost Rider into a gallop, Gyro and Johnny doing the same afterward.

The desert was quiet aside for the gallops of horses across it and the occasional cry of a falcon. As the sun began to rise, small lizards and birds left their desert homes in search of food, instinct fueling their every move. You watched as this happened, letting Thunderstruck do as she pleased. Every now and then, Johnny would shout directions and Mountain Tim would lead the other horses that way. Gyro, on the other hand, was quiet, not even challenging the route you would all take to the checkpoint.

Just like the day before, melancholy filled his electric green eyes, for what you couldn't tell. Again, it was none of your business and you weren't planning on making it your business anyway. After you all reached the checkpoint, you would all go your separate ways and you wouldn't have to see them until the finish lines. A pit of isolation sunk in your stomach as you leaned your head on the back of Thunder's neck, eyelids feeling heavy.

"Hey, wake up, you're gonna fall off your horse." You looked up to find Gyro riding closer to you, the only trace of emotion on his face being in his eyes. A grimace pulled onto your face as you looked away and shut your eyes. There was a grumble from Gyro and then the sound of Valkyrie pulling away from Thunder's side. Eventually, the town came into view and the three men sped up, leaving you following after them at your normal pace. This was only a checkpoint after all.

When you got there, there were two identical-looking men standing in front of them all, Gyro, Johnny, and Mountain Tim's arguing almost overpowering the voices of the other two men. Of course, all three were talking about who had gotten there first which was a bit disappointing to see in Tim's case. You said nothing and waited until they calmed down which had taken a moment after Gyro had gotten fussy and thrown his steel ball at a nearby wagon.

"Congratulations on your very early arrival, sirs," one of them began, standing there with an awkward smile, "this is a town specifically built as a checkpoint in the Steel Ball Run race." The three men seemed to finally pay attention as you leaned on Thunder's neck. "We were expecting to hear of the second stage riders arriving tomorrow but according to our information, you have distanced yourself about half a day from Sandman and Diego Brando AKA Dio, who took a separate route," said the other as the first one stepped forward with some ink, "we need to check your race numbers and your horses' prints."

"That damn Dio," grumbled Johnny, spitting into the dirt while Gyro grimaced. Mountain Tim gave the two men a charming smile while you all got off your horses. As one of the men began taking the prints, the other approached Gyro, handing him a letter with a smile. Gyro gave him a nod, no words exchanged between them— then your eyes met. You hastily looked away, pulling your bandana further up your face just as the man asked to take Thunder.

"Go on now, girl," you said, letting out a soft yawn afterward. The man perked up, looking around Thunder's body to face you, "we have a hotel with showers a bit down the road if you'd like to lodge there. We also have tents, restaurants, bars, a blacksmith, a barber..." You held up a hand to stop him and yawned once more, giving him a smile from behind your bandana.

"That'd be great," you began, turning to find Mountain Tim fixing up Ghost Rider's saddle, "d'you mind if I leave her with you?" Tim gave you a thumbs-up and you smiled, then turned around to the side of Thunder's neck. "Be good Thunder. I'll get you more treats later," you cajoled which was answered with a huff and a whinny. You gave one last wave to Mountain Tim before grabbing your bag and heading for the building with a hotel sign.

"Hey, Speedwagon! Where are ya goin'?" asked Johnny, making his way over to you when you stopped in front of the building. "Hotel," you replied gruffly, rubbing your eyes until you found Gyro standing beside him, eyeing your tired form. "Oh, in that case, why don't we all room together-" "Gyro looks like he wants to kill me so I'll have to pass." Johnny watched with wide eyes as you made your way into the building and then looked back at his friend with a frown.

"What?! I would!"

"Dammit, Gyro. You can be a handful sometimes."

"Handful of what?"

You had walked off before you could hear the rest of their conversation, eager to check into the room and have a nice, peaceful rest without having to worry about whether or not your hat was covering your face. How it had never fallen off until you wanted it to was beyond you. While getting the key to your room, the idea of a warm shower made its way into your mind, making you smile to yourself. You told yourself after your nap you'd take one.

"Room for three, please," said a voice from beside you, making you frown. Gyro was looking at you with a mix of smugness and anger, all wrapped up in one smirk. You didn't bother starting something with him and figured you'd be too tired to make sure you didn't die. An invisible shiver ran down your spine as you took the key in front of you, walking off before Gyro could try anything else.

Once you reached your room, you spotted Gyro and Johnny rolling over, talking about how they would go to the stables after Mountain Tim joined them in the room. You focused on unlocking your door, cringing when Gyro called your name. Without even looking over, you pushed into your room, slamming the door shut and locking it immediately after. As soon as you hit the mattress of your bed, you had fallen asleep.

And then, of course, you were flung out onto the street.

Your ears rung terribly as your body ached, rocks and splintered wood stabbing into parts of your body. Pools of crimson began to stream down your face, spilling from unseen wounds while you heaved for air. Considering you had just been blown out a window, your body felt like shit, but you had managed to gain enough strength to palm your head for your hat which sat there, untouched.

"Speedwagon!" You felt your arm fall limp— and there was Mountain Tim's body putting itself together right in front of you— and a blue blur came into your field of vision. Your body burned as the blur pulled you towards it and you had managed to make out Gyro glaring at some oddly-posed man in front of them. "Speedwagon, Speedwagon, can you hear me?!" the blur cried as its chest moved erratically.

Your throat felt too dry to say anything and you nodded as best you could, blocking the sound of talking and shouting with the ringing in your ears. It felt almost impossible to even breathe, let alone talk. When you were finally able to make out who the blur was, Johnny had dragged you onto his wheelchair and Gyro had held his hands out in front of them. You tilted your head back, feeling your hat loosen. Your hand shot up to hold it in place, Johnny giving you a look before his eyes widened.

"Gyro! The ground! He kicked something this way!" His grip on you tightened significantly and his chest heaved as it had before. You pulled his hand into hers, squeezing it to both keep yourself awake and to calm him down. As you sat there though, you could swear you felt blood slowly rushing back to your head. "No, Gyro! Get away from the mouse!" screamed Mountain Tim from behind them. Johnny stiffened from beneath you and you watched his face contort into fear, his already pale face going paler instantly.

"ITS BECOME A BOMB!"

[alghente]

soooo the victorian lesbian community should really be shaking rn in their mass graves on terra britannia a huge chapeaux-bas for @xacro.art for reaching 600 followers🙌 and to provide such an amazing concept for a drawing, making my daily dopamine rush i was absolutely undecided when it comes to lightning cause my ig concept was to have a dim darker one but it just didn’t work out the best so the main version is kinda twilighty (it’s the time of a year for a twilight rewatch anyways😋) also the logistical constructions of this bed..let’s not dive into that lmao #xacro600dtiys #johnnyxgyro #johnny #gyro #jojo #jjbadtiys #jojosbizarreadventure #jojosbr #sbr #steelballrun #jojosteelballrun #jojopart7 #gyjo #gyrozeppeli #victorian #genderswap https://www.instagram.com/p/Ci9rkPkIyoo/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mitch-the-simp]

President’s Side Piece is a Primadonna (Pt. 1)

To paint a scene; 1890, America. The industrial revolution was at its peak and the U.S. was a prominent country in its export economy, soon becoming a superpower in the world’s economy. At the top of this empire of democracy was President Funny Valentine, the 23rd President of the United States. A man respected from sea to shining sea for his patriotism and looks. He had it all: the love of his country, a beautiful wife, but specially the prettiest girl wrapped around his pinky finger.

(Y/n) (L/n) wasn’t just any girl, her beauty was beyond anything America had seen. Born to a rich and highly influential Texan family that specialized in being livestock auctioneers. The third child and only daughter of 6 children. Her beauty was unparalleled, she’d rejected the hand of many and has surrounded herself with only the best of the country. Amongst which was the President himself. And of course, her family urged her to become very close to him. Nonetheless, she did as advised.

“Mr. President...” (Y/n) whined. She held up a bitten piece of bread that upon inspection was a specific type of Mexican bread named Concha. Her face had obvious hints of dislike for the already bitten bread which seemed to be the reason for her complaint.

“What’s wrong my Bluebonnet?” Valentine asked as he walked up to her, placing his hands on her shoulders and massaging them gently.

“This Concha doesn’t taste the same like the ones Sarita makes at home. I refuse to eat it like this.” She whined again, her thick but sweet-sounding country accent adding sensuality to her dress that already pushed up her reddish, soft-looking bust.

“Oh Bluebonnet… It probably doesn’t taste bad, I’m sure it’s just a slight difference my dear.” He mumbled, kissing her cheek.

“No Funny, I’m not eating this. It doesn’t taste like the original.” She scoffed, crossing her arms and turning her face away from him in a tantrum.

He squeezed her cheeks between his four fingers and his thumb, looking at her with a stern but sexy gaze, “What did I say about getting too bratty about little things with me?”

He held the wrist of the hand that you held up the bread with while still having a grip of your face. He forced you to make eye contact with him and as you did, he bit a piece of the bread, chewed and swallowed the piece.

“This tastes splendid, my little Bluebonnet. I’ll say it again: I’m sure it doesn’t taste bad to you; but rather unfamiliar.” He mumbled seductively, letting go of her face. Still holding your arm, he moved the it towards your moth so you would bite the bread. “Eat it.” He commanded. She did as told, savoring the sweetness of the bread. Yeah, it wasn’t an authentic, Mexican Concha, but it still tasted good…

“Tell me, would you eat it if I fed it to you?” He mumbled, the words flowing out of his mouth like honey.

“Yes, Mr. President~.” She cooed scooting closer to him.

“Good girl.~” He cooed back.

It wasn’t uncommon of him to put her in her place when she acted up, but it also wasn’t uncommon for him to let her get away with things like begging him for dresses, or a cute little porcelain doll to put in her room. He’d spoil her rotten when it came for small little material things. But when it came to her whining about things not going her way…

They either resulted in him simply scolding her (like he’d just did), or punishing her accordingly. Either way, he adored. He simply couldn’t get enough of her!

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Requests are open! :DD