#house-made prosciutto

[fieriframes]

[FIERI: Now, I've been to plenty of Italian joints serving up pasta and pizza, but a market in the middle of Arizona cranking out house-made prosciutto? Well, I got to tell you, it brings a tear to my eye.]

#s30e07 triple d nation - italy #guy fieri #guyfieri #diners drive-ins and dives #italian joints #house-made prosciutto #fieri #plenty #pasta #pizza #market #middle #arizona #tear #eye

[k-martins]

Hey I was just wondering if you had any itafushi fic recs!! :)

Fanfic recommendations from your ITFS fairy godmother!

Separated according to classification! R.N = Reader's note (me)

G

Indelible by Lyrebirdswrites +4k words || Oneshot || AU Tattoo artist! Megumi and Florist! Yuji || Marriage proposal || Fluffy, love and peace || R.N: For more fanfics that use the language of flowers

The Seasons Of Our Life by auspicious_goblin +1k words || Oneshot || AU - No curses || ITFS will end like this If Gege is not a loser || Fluffy and slice to life || R.N: YES!!! ITFS ELDERLY YES!!!!

You’re The Only Good Thing In My Life by renarizaki +2k words || Oneshot || Canonical divergence || Megumi helps Yuji dye his hair || fluffy, slice to life andhumor || R.N: The Manga would be funnier if Yuji actually dyed his hair pink.

T

Nobody Saves Me The Way You Do by GallifreyanFairytale +3k words || Oneshot || Canon compatible || Yuji gives Megumi a bath || Anguish mainly || R.N: I love how this writer describes Megs' scenes and feelings <3

No One Gets it Right on the First (Or Second) Try by j_jabbers +12k words || Oneshot || AU - No curses || ITFS and its failed encounters || 5 + 1, humor, fluffy and slice to life || R.N: I really like Yuji's POV where he is a failure in love.

Plant Kisses Like Seeds by Miah_Kat +4k words || Oneshot || Canon compatible || Yuji has survivor's guilt, good thing Megumi is around || Anguish and fluffy || R.N: This fanfic hits my weak points very hard. I'm passionate about body worship scenes.

And I've Been Tryin' Not To Feel It by hijinks_n_lowjinks +37k words || In Progress || Au - No curses/College || ITFS slowly (or not if you're Megumi) falling in love || Humor, slice to life, fluffy || R. N: God bless jinks for always making my day better with an update to this fanfic.

M

Can't Have It Both Ways by vivevoce +4k words || Oneshot || Canonical divergence || The ITFS meeting takes Todo through all the stages of grief || Humor, nonsense and fluffy? I think it's cute || R.N: This fanfic made me wish for fillers with the people of Tokyo and Kyoto coming together in a common goal - to destroy Todo's lack of sanity

It's a Goddamn Blaze In The Dark by prosciutto +13k words || Oneshot || AU - No curses/college || roommates, stranger>friends>lovers what more do you want? || humor, angst, fluffy || R.N: I really like how Megumi and Yuji are portrayed here. I feel like if we got a glimpse of their dynamic outside of the manga this would be it.

All The Bad Dreams That You Hide by lexouran +5k words || Oneshot (my tears)) || Au - Spiderman || Megumi receives a visit from her neighborhood friend || anguish, fluffy slight smut(?) || R.N: CAN YOU HEAR MY TEARS FROM YOUR HOUSE??? BECAUSE I CRY EVERY TIME I THINK THIS FANFIC HAS NO CONTINUATION!!

E

The Rabbit In the Moon by zillala +266k words || In Progress || Canonical divergence || Megumi finally confesses after Shibuya || Friends to lovers, angst, slice to life, humor, fluffy || R.N: The first itfs fanfic I read and I will never regret it. God bless this author and her huge chapters that were my vitamin on dark nights without the manga.

Futile Devices by jellyjully +25k words || Oneshot || Post-canon || Yuji is exiled from Japan for years until Megumi finds him || Slice to life, humor, anguish, fluffy || R.N: This fanfic gave me vibes of a studio ghigle film. I think it's the ambiance.

To Have And To Hold by terriana +15k words || In progress || Post-canon and Dynamics a/b/o || Yuji tries to woo Megumi, but his lover's shikigami wouldn't approve of the idea || Humor, anguish, fluffy, slice to life || R.N: This fic gets funnier when I think about the kung fu bunny from eps 17. No wonder Yuji was so broken LMAO (Please terriana, if you see this tell me what you have planned for Nue, I'm very curious )

Hope this helps! (ɔ◔‿◔)ɔ ♥

#I love recommending my favorite fanfics #if you want to ask #let me know what type you are (fluffy slice to life humor horror smut whatever) #support the writers! #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #itafushi #jjk spoilers #itadori yuji #fushiita #yuji itadori #jjk fanfic

[wri0thesley]

disciplinarian - prosciutto x reader (3k)

you have made a mess of things - and prosciutto is not going to let that pass without punishment.

cw: yandere prosciutto. dubious-consent/non-consent (reader is well on the way to stockholm syndrome if not already there). afab reader referred to as 'spouse', no other gendered terms used. captive reader. spanking, exhibitionism, allusions to prosciutto using his stand on reader in the past. use of pet names, use of 'slut'. minors dni, not sfw.

[a/n: a fic in which a random number generator was allowed to choose some of my favourite kinks and characters for a little birthday event i did for myself! this one threw up 'prosciutto', 'impact play' and 'yandere!' it's been a while since i published jojo but oh, i could never forget about my love for One Old Man Mafioso!]

It’s your own fault. 

You stare at the ruined dinner and feel your breath start to come in short little pants; a tell-tale sign that you’re about to panic. About to start crying. You should have checked on it more often! You should have double-checked all of the temperatures, stayed in the kitchen instead of going into Prosciutto’s study to read and imagine you were somewhere else--

The front door swings open. Prosciutto’s voice, warmth seeping from every syllable, calls out into the hallway; 

“Tesoro? I’m home.”

That warmth will quickly dissipate when he sees what you’ve done. Even now, as he calls out your name once more, you can hear a mounting frustration; Prosciutto likes you to be ready to rush up to him when he comes home from work, peppering his cheek with kisses and chirping questions about his day, every inch the adoring little house spouse that he has mercilessly drilled you into becoming. You ought to be fussing over his jacket, stroking his cheek and telling him you missed him with heat in your cheeks - offering to fetch his slippers and a whisky for him to unwind with . . .

Instead, you are in the kitchen in front of ruined dinner, your apron a mess and tears rolling down your face as you face the facts; Prosciutto is not going to be happy with you. 

“There you are.” The mafioso’s voice has a sharp edge to it as a shadow falls across the doorway. You start guiltily, trying to hide the tray of burnt food from his ice blue gaze, but there’s no real escape from a man like Prosciutto. You know he’s seen it the moment that his elegant lip curls and his eyes flicker back to you. “ . . . Really. Is this how you greet your husband, amore mio?”

You want to bite back at him that he is no husband of yours - that it is hardly husbandly of him to have snatched you from your life and installed you into his like you are an asset to be owned and bossed about, a caricature of what a traditional man would expect from a spouse. It is hardly husbandly of him to have taught you to cook and clean and serve him by belt and by threat and by the strange power that he possesses that you hope never to experience again--

(You can still remember it, at night, when Prosciutto is still on a mission and you are alone - how it had felt to have your bones age and crack all rapidly at once, your skin sag from your frame, your heart to suddenly have years and years of use and wear piled upon it in what felt like moments. You never want to feel it again. You’d promised him, afterwards, tears still drying on your face, that you would be good from then on in.)

“I’m sorry,” your words all come out in a rush. “I-I didn’t mean to, Prosciutto. Amore. I--I just got distracted, it burnt, I’ll cook it all again--”

His expensive shoes (gotten for a bargain, or so he claimed, though you know that half of the boutiques in the city cower when he steps into them and rush to offer him staff discounts and anything he desires) squeak on the tiled kitchen floor as he steps closer to you. You force yourself to breathe. 

“And waste another day’s worth of ingredients?” He asks you, calmly. “Do you think I am made of money, amore mio?” The pet names are a deliberate choice - they serve only to make you even more frightened. He casts his eye over the spread again. “It’s good for nothing but the trash now. Tell me--” And then your chin is being grasped by hands that have murdered and killed and God knows what else. “What did my pretty little tesoro have to occupy their mind that was more important than being good and taking care of their husband, hmm?”

Your voice cracks.

“I-I’m sorry--”

“Not good enough,” he says, his voice still calm. Prosciutto is cool and calculated in all he does; he does not shout and rage at you. His quiet seething, his way of keeping his handsome face a visage of serenity even when he is doing depraved things, is far more frightening than anything else. “Come. Leave the food for later. I think you need a reminder of your place.”

Your breath catches. You know what he means by this, and as if your body is already protesting the coming punishment, you feel last week’s almost-healed bruises on your buttocks sting. And, too - because Prosciutto has trained you to be that way - you feel a heat low in your abdomen, a clenching of the part of you between your thighs that Prosciutto equally adores to torment. 

Prosciutto senses your hesitation and clicks his tongue at you, motioning towards the upstairs of the little home you two share (some holdover from his family connections, though it is not quite as well-maintained as it ought to be). 

“I’ll give you five more strikes for every moment you dawdle,” he says, and he gives you a smile not without a hint of his teeth. When you had first met Prosciutto, you had thought his overbite and the gap between his teeth handsome - now, you wonder if they are on display so often if only to warn you that this is a man who will bite if he is threatened.

You pass by him - and on cue, one of Prosciutto’s hands comes down and squeezes your ass as you walk, his hands strong, fingers digging hard into the plush of your rear. You whimper, and Prosciutto lets out a hiss of pleased breath through his teeth. 

“So soft,” he murmurs to you, slapping you on the rear now as if he is urging you to move faster. “Mm . . . as much of a shame as it is to punish you, tesoro, you’re such a very lovely canvas for the discipline.”

Despite your will, the compliment makes your insides clench once more. Heat gathering between your thighs in hot little shocks - there’s something about the clipped way that Prosciutto speaks that makes you want to get on your knees and do exactly as he says, even if you do hate him. Even if you do wish you were somebody else, somewhere else, away from here. 

(Hate is a difficult thing; you hate Prosciutto. You hate what he has done to you. But his fingers are clever and his mouth is tender and the frissons of danger being his give you are more of a lure than you’d like to admit. Even if you could escape, sometimes you fear that you are so thoroughly under his spell that you would miss him). 

He chuckles as if he can tell what you are thinking - his hands rest upon your hips as you walk, guiding you upstairs, the movement at once gentlemanly and possessive. Those are two things that the mafioso excels in. 

Prosciutto’s bedroom. 

He leaves you standing in the middle of the floor as he slowly, leisurely, crosses the room to sit upon the bed. You stand there for him, tension brewing, even as Prosciutto lets out a slow sigh and removes his ascot with elegant fingers. As he unbuttons his jacket and shrugs it off shoulders, showing the sculpted muscles of his scarred chest. You barely stop yourself from trembling. 

When the jacket is shed, he rests back upon the heels of his hands and looks at you with that handsome, disaffected air - mouth parted, eyes half-lidded. His command is simple. 

“Strip, and then come here and bend over.” 

Prosciutto likes you to look the part of his little spouse. You wear clothes that are well-made and prim and a little old-fashioned, with fiddly little buttons and awkward zippers that you sometimes need his help to get into in a morning. He offers you no such help now, as your fingers slip on the buttons and you miss the catch of the zipper three times from your clammy palms. He breathes out through his nose in a flare of irritation, and you make a squeal of apology as you finally manage to shed the last layer of your clothes and you stand before him in nothing but your underwear, white satin patterned with deep red roses that Prosciutto had picked out for you. He looks at you in satisfaction, noting the damp patch at your gusset.

“My underwear too, amore?” He likes it when you use pet names for him - when you call him ‘my love’ or ‘my soul’ or ‘husband’. He likes ‘Signore’, too, but he prefers that when the two of you are playing one of his favoured little roleplay games. Right now, he is a husband disciplining a wayward spouse, and he wouldn’t react well to it. You hope the little term of endearment softens him. 

“Just the top,” he decides, and you obediently reach behind yourself and unclip it with only a little difficulty. You feel your cheeks heat as Prosciutto looks at how your chest is released from the satiny cups, but manage to keep your composure. “Ah. How lucky I am to have such a pretty spouse, hmm?” He reaches forward, pinching one of your nipples roughly. A soft noise of surprise falls from your lips as he continues to pinch, twisting it just enough for it to edge the line between pleasure and pain, forcing the bud to pucker and stiffen beneath his ministrations. He repeats the process with the other, making you press your thighs unconsciously together. “Maybe I should use a cane on these, one of these days.”

“N-no, please,” you breathe out, but you’re already losing track of the thought of anything but Prosciutto’s fingers upon you. He chuckles, tugging at your nipples again. 

“Maybe some pretty jewelry, then?” He suggests. “One of my associates is very skilled with metals--”

You whine as he pinches just a touch too hard, and, satisfied, he lets go of the sensitive buds - stiff and already aching from a mixture of fear and arousal and the pressure he had exerted. 

“Very well,” he says in amusement. “Come bend over my lap and let me give you your punishment.”

You have no other choice, really - you arrange yourself exactly the way you know Prosciutto likes you, bent over his lap, your ass in the air. Your sore nipples uncomfortably rub against his slacks and the bedspread, and you know that they will chafe between both as you move with every hit of his hand or his belt or the hairbrush, chest swaying with the pressure--

His hand rests lightly on the curve of your ass. 

“You’ve been well-behaved other than today,” he muses aloud, rubbing warm circles onto the heated skin. The touch of his calloused palms on your soft ass sends more little electric shocks to that place between your thighs, satin sticking to the folds of your cunt. “Just my hand, hmm?” 

“Thank you, amore,” you say, automatically. For his mercy. He chuckles, rubs his thumb over the seam of your ass through the underwear and stops just before your sex. 

“No more than you deserve,” he says. “You’ll count, yes?” 

You nod, and Prosciutto seems satisfied enough with that. You hear the sound of his hand pulling back - the displacement of air as it whooshes back towards your ass, and then the calloused meat of his palm collides with your bare flesh. You cry out in surprise at the feeling, despite knowing it was coming. 

“One!” You say. “Th-thank you!”

He pauses, hand still upon your ass. Heat radiates from the spot he has just touched, like waves lapping upon a shore. 

“Thank you, what?” He asks, his voice dangerous - and you know it is a test. You take a great shuddering breath. 

“Thank you, carissimo--?”

You hope you have made the right choice - that the pet name will soften him and soothe him and remind him that he is your husband and you adore him (or, at least, you do because you know what is good for you). The question hangs in the air for a moment that feels like it lasts for an eternity, before Prosciutto lets out a grunt of pleasure. 

“You’re welcome. Don’t forget next time.”

So you don’t. 

You do not forget to count or to thank Prosciutto or to call him all of the sweet things you can think of; thank you carissimo, thank you caro, thank you amore, thank you mio re, mio amato--

And Prosciutto’s blows do not stop coming, each one slower and more lingering than the last. Palm slapping against your rear and thighs until you are all over sore, fingers digging into tenderised flesh, Prosciutto’s hand taking delight in the way you whimper and whine and your voice goes high and reedy as you reach seventeen, eighteen, nineteen . . .

At twenty, he leaves his hand upon your ass for a beat longer. Luxuriously and slowly slides it down, further than he had before - and laughs a little meanly as his fingers dip between your thighs, feeling just how wet your underwear is. 

“Oh, amore,” He breathes, in that damnably low and seductive voice. “You like being punished, don’t you?”

There is no real argument to what he’s saying. With every hit of his hand, you had felt those sparks and shocks that had resonated all through your body and landed squarely in your cunt, between your legs. With every number that had fallen from your mouth, you had felt yourself pump out more slick, until the satin was utterly saturated and it was a wonder you were not dripping all over the floor. 

“You’ve made a mess,” Prosciutto breathes against your ear. “Mm . . . I’m going to have to replace this nice lingerie. Do you know how much it cost?” 

“. . . I . . .’m sorry--”

“Oh,” another chuckle. “Don’t be. It’s nice to know what a little slut my pretty spouse is.”

“I’m not. . .”

“Ah. So you’re not desperate for me to do this?” He slowly, deliberately, presses his fingers against the seam of your sex, rubbing it through the satin. Against your will, a whine falls from your mouth - the pressure is perfect, his fingers so good against your heated core. “You’re not moaning like a bitch in heat?”

“Prosciutto . . .”

“You’re a very lucky little slut, at least.” Prosciutto’s fingers begin to rhythmically slide backwards and forwards, over your cunt - you whimper as he finds your clit, rubbing the satin against the swollen little nub in a way that makes you squirm and hot tears spring to your eyes. “I don’t mind that you’ve gotten off to me punishing you. In fact . . .”

He doesn’t bother to go beneath the fabric - just finds your clit, swollen and stiff through satin as thin as spider silk, and begins a rough, mean assault on it that has you gasping and panting. 

“I’ll even help you along.”

It’s too much. It’s all too much. The position - blood rushing to your head. The way that your ass aches and stings from his discipline, the way he’s practically trained you to get turned on by being hurt, the confusion that you feel about all of this . . . Sometimes you want nothing more than to be the thoughtless little whore of a spouse he wants you to be. Things would be so much easier, wouldn’t they? 

Your breath comes in short sharp pants as Prosciutto increases his speed, roughly circling your clit. You squirm hotly as the pressure follows suit. All of the feelings inside of you - the confusion and the heat and the arousal and the hate and everything else - all tangle together in your mind like old embroidery threads, a mess impossible to unravel--

Until they do. The threads are all suddenly pulled apart in different directions, and your insides explode in an orgasm that is partly pleasure and partly pain. Prosciutto’s fingers do not slow, hot hard circles that guide you over yet more hills and more peaks. You don’t know if it’s good or if it’s overwhelming, all of the sensations creeping up on you at once like ivy overtaking an old house. You sob out a dry, whimpering noise that makes Prosciutto sigh. 

He slows his fingers as the last ebbs and flows of your peak flow from your thighs to your feet to your fingertips and out of your body and lets you lay there limply upon him, breathing hard.

You are suddenly aware of every part of your body. 

Your underwear clings wetly and uncomfortably to your folds, the gusset utterly soaked from the painful orgasm that Prosciutto had wrung from you. Tear tracks are drying on your face, your ass aching from every spank of Prosciutto’s hand. Your nipples ache from how they had rubbed against the fabric of Prosciutto’s slacks with every body-shaking hit you had taken. 

“There,” Prosciutto says, pushing you off of him so you land in an ungainly sniffling heap on the floor. Beads of your arousal and release are streaming down your inner thighs. He acts as though what he’s done has had no effect upon him, though the stiff tent of his erection tells a different story. You will get that particular part of your punishment later, caged underneath the unending snap of his hips and snarl of his voice about what a good little thing you are, taking your husband’s cock like you were made to do. “Now. I think it’s dinner time, don’t you?”

You sniffle again and look up at him with beseeching eyes. 

“I-- I burnt dinner--”

“Well,” he says. “I suppose you’ll have to make it all again, won’t you?”

It’s almost a pardon. You nod frantically at him, and go to reach for your abandoned brassiere, your other clothes - only for Prosciutto to stand up and bring one well-heeled foot right down upon the pile of fabric.

“I don’t think you deserve those, tesoro. Do you?” 

“B-but . . . the window--”

He looks down at you with a glint in those deep blue eyes, a devilish smirk playing about his lips. 

“You should have thought about that before you made such a mess of things.” His eyes slide over your figure - your bare chest, your rapidly bruising thighs and ass, the thin and soaked excuse for underwear you’re currently wearing - and he sighs in satisfaction. “Don’t you dare close the curtains, amore mio. Maybe this will be another lesson for you.”

#prosciutto x reader #prosciutto smut #jjba x reader #jjba smut #yandere jjba #yandere prosciutto #writing #not sfw text #yandere for ts #dub con for ts #non con for ts #jojo postin

[nicherayyy]

Okay, so reading through your La Squadra and Child/teenager reader posts, I just suddenly had the thought. How do you think they’d react if they were dating Trish or Giorno? (Another teen who’s the same age as them) (no idea if there’s a timeline or somethingh

I decided to make it with Giorno bc I think the fact that reader would date the literal La Squadra’s boss is   hilarious, maybe later I’ll do the same thing with Trish, just let me know if you’d like it <3

La Squadra x Teen!Reader who’s dating Giorno

Family fluff, everyone lives nobody dies, dating

Lately you’ve become too thoughtful, sometimes without even paying attention to anything. 

Sometimes you would sneak out of the house without telling anyone, of course, the whole La Squadra would be mad at you about it. You may consider yourself as “all grown up” but damn, you’ll always be a baby for them. So of course your behaviour made them worried. You never were like that. Is something happening with you? Are you in danger?

“What the hell is wrong with you?”, Ghiaccio snapped at you one morning, just about the moment when you were leaving.

“I literally have no idea what you’re talking about”, you replied calmly, putting on your jacket.

“No, you are absolutely aware about what Ghiaccio means”, Prosciutto intervened, looking at you sternly. The man had no idea what was your deal. Partly he thought it was his fault. Did he upset you? Why won’t you even talk with him as much as you used to. He may look serious, but damn he cared about you. After all these years you’re like his own flesh and blood. 

You sighed dreamingly “Nothing is wrong with me, I’ll see you at the dinner”, with that you closed the door. 

The whole room was speechless until Melone quietly giggled. 

“What’s so funny?”, Ghiaccio muttered. 

“Well, it looks like I was right”, Melone replies without taking his eyes off his laptop “Di Molto!”

“Melone, specify please”, Risotto joined the conversation, actually intrigued what could you hide from highly skilled assassins. 

“It looks like our dear child are secretly dating someone”, Melone exclaimed excitedly.

“What do you mean dating?”, Illuso’s jaw dropped, he expected anything, anything but that. 

“It’s normal for teenagers to date someone, as long as they use protec-“

“I don’t want to hear this nonsense, Melone” Risotto interrupted “Anyway, if that’s true, we need to ask ourselves”. Risotto’s upset with you now. If you’re really seeing someone, why would you hide it from them? 

The door opened again, interrupting the whole conversation. 

“Forgot the keys”, you said, trying not to look at your family. 

“We know”, Formaggio said, it looked like he was burning a hole in your back “Sit down, tell us about this date of yours”

You shivered, sooner or later they would have found out, but you were hoping that it would happen as much later as possible. You didn’t want to have this conversation with them. 

You sat down between Prosciutto and Illuso, taking as much air in your lungs as possible, after a few seconds you exclaimed “Giorno Giovanna”

..What?

“I’m dating Giorno Giovanna”, you exclaimed. Everyone couldn’t believe their ears. What did you just said? You’re dating.. their boss? Maybe they heard something wrong? Maybe it’s just a joke? But you looked too serious for this to be joke. 

The meetings with the boss were awkward after that conversation, especially for Risotto. He has no idea what to do. Of course, he’s happy for you, but damn. On the one hand Giorno’s his boss, but on the other hand he’s your boyfriend. It’s too complicated. But he still respects your decision. As long as the boy won’t hurt your feelings, but if that happen.. well, we already know what would happen.

Pros, oh dear man Pros. He doesn’t care if it’s his boss or not. He’s not even afraid of him. When it comes to you, his instinct for self-preservation disappears instantly. So yeah, he definitely would stand behind Giorno like this.

Also supportive, but will give you a long lecture about dating stuff. And of course he still will be mad at you for a few day because you were silent about such stuff.

“Does that mean that we would be paid more?”. Formaggio’s pretty chill. And he’s 100% you’ll be fine with Giorno, I mean, the dude has a lot of security and stuff. Sometimes would ask you about your dating life. 

Illuso needs no know EVERYTHING. Sometimes will help you to get ready for dates, but it’s only if he’s in a good mood. “So he bought you this as a gift? Hmph, he could do better”, would review all your gifts. Because you deserve only the best and if Giorno can’t give that for you, well, too bad.

Pesci is just happy for you. He remembers you so small and carefree. And now you’re young adult, now dating. He’s proud of you. But sometimes it would hard for him to realise that you’re growing up. Maybe you’ll want to have your own family. And that means that you would want to move out, oh wait, he’s crying.

Remember that gift stuff? Ghiaccio would want to buy something better for you. He’s pretty competitive. “Oh, that golden bracelet that he got you.. Ha, I got you two golden bracelets”. You continue to tell him that this stupid competition is not necessary, but he just not listens. So yeah, get ready for a lot of gifts from him. 

Melone’s excited to see your bright future. He knew that you’re dating from the beginning after all. If something bothers you, you always could tell him. “Ah, young love. Have you had your first kiss yet?”. Of course he would look through his laptop if you and Giorno are a true match.

#la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra x reader #la squadra #jjba part 5 #jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo no kimyou na bouken #risotto nero x reader #prosciutto x reader #illuso x reader #melone x reader #formaggio x reader #pesci x reader #ghiaccio x reader #jjba headcanons #jjba 5 #vento aureo x reader #jjba vento auero #jjba risotto #prosciutto jjba #melone #formaggio jjba #pesci jjba #illuso jjba #ghiaccio #fluff #jjba x reader #jjba golden wind

[industriallyinsecure]

Could I please please PLEASE get some headcannons of la squadra and where they took their partner on their first date/favorite date?

I went with first date for this request :)

Risotto is planning this extremely detailed date that he believes is worthy of you, but at the same time brings him out of his comfort zone

(He has never been on a date before)

He’s genuinely surprised (and relieved) when you suggest a stay in date with little to no interaction with anyone except maybe the person who delivers the food

The two of you snuggle up on the couch, completely intertwined as you wait for your food to arrive

While chatting about the things he originally had planned , you called him chiocciolino (little snail) and praised him for trying something different and coming out of his shell

He’s never had a nickname outside of the affectionate shortening of his name or the horrible things he was called in his youth, so you earn a rare, yet small, smile from him

You spend the rest of the night nibbling on and sharing your food together while watching one of his favorite shitty horror movies on his old VHS player

(Everyone else comes home to see the two of you gonked out on the couch with the TV on and food on the low table. Formaggio calls dibs on not cleaning up)

Ghiaccio takes you to his favorite skating rink so he can show off for you

He only mentions he used to be a professional ice skater mid-way through your date

(Comes off a bit assholish, but he really just wants to impress you)

If you don’t know how to skate, or can’t very well, he uses the opportunity to hold you close and teach you

If you’re pretty good, he tries to flex on you

Either way, it ends with one of you busting your ass on the ice

Ghiaccio will be mortified, but you just laugh it off

When you ask him to do one of his old routines, he’ll blush furiously and claim to not remember any

Which is a lie

If you keep pressing, he’ll do it, but he’ll complain the whole time

He’s absolutely beautiful and graceful to watch, a far cry from the choppy, fast pace of Ghiaccio’s actions that you were used to

Melone takes you to a local contemporary restaurant

He likes new experiences and trying new things, especially with new people!

Absolutely makes small talk, compares zodiac signs, natal charts, etc.

Asks very strange, but thoughtful questions

They’re not the normal questions, but things like “What is your opinion on the housing crisis?” And “If you could be any plant what would you be?”

For lack of a better word, the first date with Melone is quirky

He shares his food with you, but just passes the plate over rather than holding out a spoon/fork like a creep

100% pays for your meal regardless of the price (his wallet is crying)

After, he takes you to get gelato and makes you pick a flavor you don’t normally get, and he does the same

All in all, a very traditional, vanilla date, but fun

Prosciutto plans the most extravagant date possible just to impress you

He dresses to the nines (not that you can tell the difference from usual) and wears his best cologne. He even puts on several of his favorite rings.

It’s too bad that the date goes awful

The exhibition he had taken you two had been taken over by environmental protesters

So he tries to take you to the restaurant he made a reservation at

Only for them to have never reserved a spot for the two of you

(He doesn’t blow up on them because you’re with him, but God does he want to)

With the date ruined, he decides to just take you back home and reschedule

As he walks you back to your apartment, a car speeds by and drenches both of you in a respectable amount of rainwater

When Prosciutto sees your shoulders shaking, he fears the worst.

But when your giggles get louder, he just gets confused

“I hope our next one goes better, Pro.”

You pull him into a brief kiss (and he imagines steam coming out of his ears and comical train whistling)

Pesci is trying to plan a date with you, and suggests almost everything but what he wants to do

So when you suggest renting a boat from the closest marina and to go out fishing, he’s over the moon!

He’ll grab all of his fishing things, much to the behest of Prosciutto, and the two of you head off

The two of you sit with your legs through the railing, the fishing rods casted

The day is filled with lots of catches and releases, and lots of pleasant conversations

If you have no experience, he takes the time to properly set everything up, carefully walking you through each step

If you do, it just makes him like you even more!

(Women want him, fish befriend him)

He almost drops the fishing rod when you lean your head against his shoulder

All in all, a very successful date

When he gets back, Formaggio and Illuso absolutely make some foul comments about how he smells like fish

(I don’t have the courage to write any here)

Illuso plans to take you to one of the only places he liked to go with his family as a child

Insists on getting ready with you, even helping you with your hair and makeup to the best of his ability.

(If you beg, he might let you style his hair)

The train and bus rides to Teatro La Fenice is fairly uneventful

His refined upbringing shows when he starts to talk to others in the theater, which is as shocking as it is interesting

You try not to stare as he puts on this rich person persona, but it’s genuinely amazing that he schmoozes an older couple into giving him their box seats

But the Illuso you know comes back during the orchestra tune up, snickering and making snide comments

The opera is long, and some of the nuance is lost on you, but Illuso had a way of picking it apart that made it funny to listen to

His ability to simultaneously make fun of it but also provide insightful commentary made the date a success

At least in your mind

You did fall asleep on him during intermission though

Formaggio honest to god forgets you have a date

So you end up at his apartment cuddling with his cat while he rifles through the phone book for delivery places

He considers himself lucky that you don’t rip him a new one

And, luckily for him, you’re very low maintenance. He would take offense to you not really having a high standard of him, but he doesn’t really mind

You don’t protest when he puts a football match on (a welcome surprise since he didn’t take you for a sports fan)

The two of you (and his kitty) snuggle up together as you wait for your food to be delievered

He’s only mildly betrayed when his cat moves away from him to soak up all of his attention

She’s always been fickle

But it’s a good sign that she likes you

The takeout is just okay, which both of you note, and definitely not worth the price

You end up falling asleep on the couch, and he doesn’t really know what to do. Does he move you to his mattress? Would it be weird to move you?

He ends up covering you with a blanket and sleeping propped up in the other chair because he felt guilty about using his own bed while you slept on the couch

#la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra x reader #risotto nero x reader #ghiaccio x reader #melone x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #illuso x reader #formaggio x reader #la squadra headcanons

[theclockworkkidart]

Redrew a drawing I did in April 2020 of an AU called “Survivors Guilt” (original below the cut as well as a visible background version) in which Melone and Prosciutto manage to survive the events of Part 5 but now have to live in hiding and deal with the after effects of losing their team, their livelihoods, and any stability.

Link to other posts I’ve made of the AU (that I haven’t touched in a while)

Continued AU summary below the cut so tumblr doesn’t punish me for it-

Prosciutto, having survived thanks to Melone getting the EMT arriving at the train scene, lost a good portion of his left arm and leg, with scarring on his face. As well as the trauma of having dealt with losing the person he was mentoring and his ability to do the only things he considered himself good at. He figured he would perish in the line of duty, not be left like this to sit and think about things. He also doesn’t understand why Melone is sticking around him when Melone is able bodied enough to succeed and not be burdened with caring for Prosciutto. He struggles with any mention of Pesci so there’s not much reference to Pesci in the house.

Melone on the other hand, suffered a mild concussion and a quick recovery from his fight. He was knocked out from the fall though, so when he woke up, he wasn’t able to contact Ghiaccio or Risotto to let them know he was alright and where to find them. Only for him to learn that they also were offed. He struggled with emotions, and thinks Prosciutto considers him weak and pathetic for what he was knocked out over and that he didn’t pursue. He tends to Prosciutto while working as a professor at a university to make ends meet. He also clings to Prosciutto because it’s all he has left and he wouldn’t want to abandon his team. Or what’s left of it.

The two distance themselves from Napoli to make sure that Passione can’t find them, living in a small apartment while Melone tries to keep them both afloat, fed, and safe. Both struggle to deal with their emotions as they were both taught to not let such weaknesses known, as they’re both mafia men, and end up with their own ways of expressing it. Prosciutto because incredibly reclusive, not saying much to Melone as he stays in the house most of the time, and becomes irritable easily. Melone on the other hand, overcompensates as he has to assume Prosciutto resents him for not taking enough action and is still able bodied, and prioritizing Prosciutto over himself. And possibly the murderous urges that he used to being able to just go with them as he were within the mafia.

The AU would take the two dealing with shared trauma expressed in different ways, until the two realize they can find comfort and solace in each other after what they’ve been through.

It’s not a ship in this AU. They aren’t romantically involved.

#jojos bizarre adventure #jjba #vento aureo #jojo prosciutto #jojo melone #survivors guilt au

[nicherayy]

Platonic La Squadra x Teen gn!Reader

Summary: family night together with snacks and horror games

A/N: I have daddy issues. And also I enjoy writing this small AU, so don't be shy to submit some requests (just make sure to read my page's rules)

fluff, humour, open ending, cursing, just you chillin’ with your 8 father figures (and brother figure Pesci)

The past few weeks have been difficult for all of you. The squad being busy with their missions and you with your school work. And it’s clear that during this time you hardly spent time together. Your only interaction was greetings in the morning and if you were lucky someone would even say good night to you. Of course they still deeply cared about you and if you stayed up late with some essay Risotto or Prosciutto would check on you from time to time.

Now after this harsh time you all were sitting in the living room while Ghiaccio and Illuso had a really heated argument.

“No, I’m telling you, these nowadays games are just terrible! Who in their right mind would make that bullshit?”

“Ghiaccio”, Risotto interrupts to make it clear that you are still in the room. Honestly none of them would want you to hear such words, and what’s more, they wouldn’t want you to use such words. They still saw you as their baby (spoiler, they always will) so cursing in house were strictly forbidden. You can only imagine how Ghiaccio got into trouble because of this.

You lazily look at Risotto, who’s comfortably seated next to you on the couch covering you with a blanket. If not Ghiaccio’s screams you could actually fall asleep already.

“I didn’t hear anything”, you replied, not wanting anyone in trouble.

“Speaking about games, I think y/n are more informed in this theme, am I right?”, asked Melone turning all attention to you again. That’s right, you were quite a fan. In fact you always spent time talking Sorbet and Gelato’s ears off with plot and meaning of some games, no that they minded. This couple loved hearing about your interests and your explanations made them both smile.

“Well”, you smiled with pride “what do you think about horror games?”. Oh yes, this genre every time hit you hard and made you overexcited. But anyway you were just curious if your family would be scared of something as simple as a game. Well.. Pesci is not counting.

But you definitely wanted to scare Risotto and Sorbet. These two always look like they can’t be intimidated by anything. This was just great opportunity.

“Horror.. h-huh” Pesci squeaked.

“Pesci, remember what we were talking about?”, Prosciutto glared at him “I don’t care about games so do as you pleased, y/n”.

In that case.. you already know what game you’ll choose.

Formaggio took the controller, “I’m gonna show you how to do it like a real pro” no one complaints while you’re waiting for a great show. This evening is getting more interesting.

#la squadra #la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra x reader #gn!reader #teen reader #risotto x reader #jjba part 5 #jojos bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jjba x reader #illuso x reader #pesci x reader #sorbet x reader #gelato jjba #formaggio x reader #melone x reader #ghiaccio x reader #fluff

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

Something for a story that I won’t do, maybe.

Bruno never had an opinion of La Squadra in the past, in the past week they were the enemy. But recently after having a stand-off at the Cathedral and finding out the Boss wanted Trish dead, they called a truce and it’s now a wary one.

He, his team and Trish inside a rather large apartment, it was highly feminine with the owner to match.

“Would you like more cookies?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Narancia and Mista were wolfing down the food she given them. Charcuterie boards, three savory and two sweet laid out on the coffee table. Along with two bottles of wine and a large pitcher of pink lemonade.

Narancia complained earlier when he was given lemonade instead of wine but the woman reasoned with Bruno that he was underage and didn’t like the idea of a minor drinking. The capo complied, fortunately Narancia seemed to like the taste.

Bruno watched her from where he seated as the. young woman came back from the kitchen and place another bowl of cookies.

The capo briefly remembered the words of their leader, Risotto.

“Go to this address, it’s a safe house. However, if you harm the woman living there we’ll all kill you ourselves.”

Bruno sipped his wine and shared a glanced with Leone as they watch the woman interact with younger members. Trish seemed more at ease in seeing another female, both of them chatted as the bubblegum girl took sips on her lemonade.

Giorno nibbled on the chocolate as he surveyed the living room. Fugo was bouncing his knee as he ate his crackers and cheese. Finally Giorno placed a hand on his knee and calmed.

She was not what they expected when they think of women who spend their time with La Squadra.

When knocked on her door, they all thought she was twelve due to her height but she explained with a tight lipped smile that she was twenty. Her apricot orange hair was in a messy bun with a few strands framing her face. Her pale skin made all the tawny freckles all over her body stand out making them look like constellations. She wore a pink Pusheen shirt and matching shorts.

She was too cute and honestly too innocent to be associated with them.

Rapid knocking on the door had them stop eating, in Narancia’s case choking on his food in mid-chew.

Tira, he recalled, hopped over to the door. Much to Fugo and Leone’s protests.

“What are you doing!?”

“Are you stupid?”

She ignored them and stopped at the door.

“What’s the name of the protagonist of Barbie and the 12 dancing princesses?”

Bruno shared a look with his team, wondering if she lost it.

“Genevieve.” The answer was chorused, he also detect a hint of tiredness.

“What’s the name of my favorite Barbie movie?”

“Fashion Fairytale. Just open the door already, Woman!”

That was Ghiaccio.

The shorter female chuckled and unlocked her door. One by one the members of La Squadra di Esecuzione trickle in, and she kissed each one of them. Mista choked in his food when she did that.

They settle themselves on the couch, opposite from the Bucci gang who were staring at them with apprehension.

“I’m going to get more glasses.” Tira announced, turning to the kitchen.

“I-I’ll help!” Trish spring up and followed her, Bruno doesn’t miss how she stiffen in fear when she first saw the hitman team enter the room.

The room was tense and awkward, the only sounds were Formaggio and Gelato’s eating.

“What?” Prosciutto demanded after a few more minutes if agonizing silence.

Narancia and Mista began. “You guys watch Barbi-“

“SHUT UP!”

Tagging: @michellenero, @the-illiterate-pirate, @rae-pss, @industriallyinsecure, @jojowifey

#jjba #jjba part 5 #jjba part five #jojo vento aureo #jojo golden wind #jojo’s bizarre adventure #la squadra #bucci gang #guido mista #tira columbina #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra esecuzioni #jjba prosciutto #jjba ghiaccio #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati

[squadrah]

your first impressions of la squadra vs your thoughts now?

I first saw them in the anime, so these are based on that!

Risotto:

"Congratulations on being so big and managing a Grim Reaper aesthetic out of a jester's hat and prison stripe pants, what is with your eyes though."

VS.

"I wish he had gotten his backstory animated as a bonus because I feel like it would have added so much to his arc and character to make it explicit. As ruthless as he can be once he makes up his mind, I like him more for those little flecks of humanity shining through."

Formaggio:

"That has to be the ugliest color scheme they could have gone with, but he seems fun."

VS.

"He was robbed, he was slandered and he was robbed when he has one of the best abilities out there that I would want in real life, he's just a little guy, just a little birthday boy and he needs to be appreciated more."

Prosciutto:

"TATTSUN?! This guy must be really popular to get voiced by Tattsun."

VS.

"The reason he was voiced by Tattsun is because he's literally the best and he's my forever fave and a major driving force behind me writing for fandom at all, and I love him and his Stand and his everything and I will defend him to the death."

Pesci:

"I am intrigued by your shapes and your Stand."

VS.

"He is a good boy and I wish we got to spend more time with him because it is so cool to me that one of his Stand's quirks mirror's the protagonist (damage reflection). Like, this is meaningful to me and I deeply respect his potential."

Ghiaccio:

"I know this was wishful thinking but damn, I wish you were voiced by Yoshino Hiroyuki. Your Stand is amazing though!"

VS.

"He was really great to watch and I was so sad he died because he was yet another minor antagonist showing amazing integrity and spirit and I love his Stand aesthetic and I'm so glad he gets amazing fanart of it, he is extremely valid."

Melone:

"He's a walking talking aesthetic. A computer Stand, too... oh fuck, oh god no."

VS.

"Still mad about some choices made by Araki and DavePro, because I have since embraced him as such an interesting character with oodles of potential and great to meme. He deserved better than what he got, as did his fans."

Illuso:

"What a smug bastard. Very cool Stand."

VS.

"What a smug bastard with a bajillion implied issues, he is such deliciously rotten candy, he's an asshole but he's our asshole, he's literally so much fun while being such a terrible person honestly, life would not be the same without him."

Sorbet:

"That widow's peak... Very boring fashion though."

VS.

"This is a goth drag queen who was mercilessly culled before his time because he wanted cash in this shit mafia economy for his dream goth wedding. I want him to have everything that the shounen genre was too afraid to give him."

Gelato:

"There is a very uniquely naughty vibe here. Very boring fashion though."

VS.

"He is the naughtiest little devil in this hell house, he is the personification of the >:3c emoji, everyone loves him and is simultaneously afraid he's gonna set the house on fire just for a laff. Adorable."

#la squadra #risotto nero #formaggio #prosciutto #pesci #ghiaccio #melone #illuso #sorbet #gelato #squadrah original #mannn remember when i watched the TGD arc and was like ah it was good i cried and everything #and a month later it just hit me that prosciutto is the fucking best #it literally took me a month and then it just crashed into me #and now here we are and he is still the fucking best

[du-buk]

8:11 Character/ Story asks;

Anons that have asked about characters and story beats! Spoilers are at the very end‼️

Trying to organize things the best I can! I’ve gotten SUPER behind on some asks.... I’m terribly sorry! I don’t go online much, and, reading text online is very difficult (for reference, this is what it looks like while also suffering from dyslexia)

Ryker ask;

Howdy! Sorry, but, Ryker’s clothing holds no meaning what-so-ever:D I think they just found a sweater they really liked and then added a crop top over it.

Nope! Beetle’s words are most likely verbal nonsense. Sounds like someone talking backwards, with some bug clicking noises, and chirping, and whatever else sprinkled in. He’s non human, and not like any living creature on Earth for that matter, so he wouldn’t have typical vocal cords.

Since he is linked with Ryker, his words are probably just telepathically and automatically translated for Ryker or something crazy like that.

Hmmmm.... the answer depends on where they are hanging out. If it’s at the basilica, Vittorino might be on edge and pissed. Which is the main reason why he attacked Ryker, haha.

If they’re all at Juliek’s house, or Accardi’s house.... hmmm. No okay, nevermind, it would still end up badly. Like this one vine

Gabriel Asks;

When I was redesigning him, I only gave him half facial hair to see what I liked..... but I liked how it looked just as is, so, I kept it, hahahah.

I like to think that he shaves during a shower, but, forgot to shave the other side until he stepped out of the shower.

Hmmm....I like to think Gabriel is a natural blonde. I think it’s just part of my style to add some colored roots to blonde characters (explains why Vittorino has black sideburns too lol) :) Susan will have a similar effect with different-colored roots:) If I keep the design idea hahahah

And Susan.....hmmmm...........

They most likely knew each other, if Gabriel was in the old friend group. But let’s find out in the future;)

Susan & Amalia asks;

She loves them! She probably does artsy things with Vittorino, and Accardi typically drives her around wherever since Juliek can’t drive.

Juliek’s wife was a model, and was also a graphic designer. And was in marketing once. She’s done a lot of different jobs, as she’s never satisfied with something long term.

 Vittorino/Juliek/Accardi asks;

HAHA oh anon(s).......... This dynamic was messy, that's for sure. Almost everyone fucked each other. But Chapter one was just a good starting point to get the basic idea of the trio friend group (Juliek, Accardi, and Vittorino.......and possibly Gabriel now too?), how they interact, feel about each other on a surface level, and Accardi moving on from Juliek to chase his interest in Ryker.

We will get to see a lot more with Juliek and Accardi’s past relationship, Juliek and who exactly his wife is, and their relationship, Vittorino’s factor with everything, etc. I’m glad you liked them so much! I love them so much:,D

He might. I wonder if it fucks up the high or not then, lol.   

No clue actually. I had no real vision for it when I made that dialogue.

Vittorino’s specialty is abstract art, so, maybe Accardi commissioned some floral abstract works? Something to put in his house and just admire. Who knows.... Too bad he can’t finish it now because he opened the damn Bible :)

Everyone’s hair is 100% natural! We live by anime rules in this universe.

I like to think Juliek’s wife, Susan, dyes her hair often just for aesthetic reasons though.

Vittorino fox hat🦊

What makes you ask that anon?

Well 😏 We know Accardi said his favorite was long pork.

Ryker likes sweet foods, and really likes yogurt cake and crepes.

Leon; Savory soups:) But probably hates that he sounds like an old man saying that, so he probably says its actually elk burgers.

Juliek; Probably something really fancy. Something that he can pair with a good glass of wine.... maybe something like a sausage pasta?

Susan;  Kare Pan (Japanese Curry Bread)

Vittorino; Quail meat

Gabriel; His mom's homemade pizza:) She makes it with prosciutto :,D

Dakota & Wankou; BBQ ribs and seafood! I don’t know much about seafood so uhhhh just guess for that one sorry lol.

1. Everyone’s a switch. Including him.

2. He probably only bottomed for two people in his whole life; Gabriel and ermmmmmmmmmmm. Well. Can’t say it’s spoilers :P

He would! But nooooooo idea how anyone would be able to pull it off. I’ve definitely thought of making his mask(face?) before, just for fun, but I have no experience in such things.

Possible Spoilers Regarding Leon;

Hi anon! I scanned through the pictures in the beginning of the game, and, I could not find any images of Leon with purple-colored eyes? If you can find one and send me the title or description of it, that would be appreciated as I can’t find it myself! Sorry! Leon’s eyes hold a lot of thematic and imagery importance, so, if Leon randomly has purple eyes I might need to fix that, hahahah. But his eyes should just be yellow/orange/gold (within that spectrum).

Although, Leon’s eye color was up for debate towards the ending (depending on what items you had collected). So who knows what truth Leon and Dante are hiding from Ryker ;)

#811 asks #vittorino #ryker #accardi #juliek #gabriel #susan #811 answers #dubuk art

[ask-la-squadra]

Formaggio! can you tell us more about your kitty?

- 🥀 (fuck it i'm going with the edgiest one i can find i love it)

Sure! :)

She is a Blue British shorthair breed who goes by the name Cannoli

She is very playful and affectionate when she wants to be but wont hesitate to put people in their place (Melone and Maggi)

She is terrified of Ghiaccio and Prosciutto for very different reasons

Pesci loves her and she loves him almost as much as she loves me

Risotto made her a hat to match his once and it was very cute until i learned that cats dont like bells because the ringing hurts their ears so we took the balls out of the bells so they dont ring

she once ate a whole salami stick that Sorbet left on the side and the house smelt crazy for the next 12 hours

she loves to chew on and play with Gelato's shoes in particular

once i shrunk her down and put her in a hotwheels car and let me tell you that she definitely told her cat friends about that one

-Maggi

#jjba part 5 #jjba #jjba au #la squadra #la squadra headcanons

[standfucker]

short la squadra reader-insert

inspired by the one tumblr post that was like “Blood loss? No I know exactly where it is.”

New information about your mission arrives too late–you had already left hours ago. Risotto sends Prosciutto after you in the hopes he can intercept you before you reach the target.

Prosciutto pulls over at the location and scans the street, looking for signs of a scuffle.

It doesn’t take long.

He follows the corner and sure enough, you’re on the ground, tucked behind the dumpster. There’s an alarming amount of blood on your shirt and on the ground around you.

You’re still conscious, breathing shallowly. As soon as you recognize him, you shift and immediately groan at the pain that it causes. “Ah, fuck….”

“Don’t move,” he says, crouching down next to you.

“The target had a friend. A friend who was a Stand user. Is that what you came to tell me? I already found out.”

“Clearly,” he says, grabbing your wrist and feeling for your pulse. 

“Do you know what he called it?” You said. “Knife Party. I’ll give you one guess as to what it did.”

“Shut up,” he snaps, trying to count your pulse. It’s not looking promising. He’ll have to abandon chasing the target if you’re going to have any chance of surviving.

He wrenched your shirt up, ignoring your immediate protest, and counted five stab wounds in your abdomen. Frankly, it was impressive you were still conscious.

“Let’s get you out of here,” he said decisively.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, even as you made no move to stand. 

Everyone in La Squadra had some kind of quirk, something weird or off about them–it came with the profession. People who killed for a living rarely came out of it stable. And your particularity, maybe even weakness, was that you coped with your lifestyle by being a control freak. It wasn’t unusual for a gangster, though yours ran deep, as he was currently witnessing.

“I can still fight,” you continue, “I’m just a bit dizzy.”

“That would be the blood loss,” Prosciutto explains, losing patience.

“It’s not blood loss. I know exactly where it is.” You weakly point to your soaked shirt, then the pools on the ground. “There and there. Everything is under control.”

“You are delusional,” he grumbles, then lifts you up, an arm under your legs and one under your back. The movement agitates sliced muscles and nerves, and you cry out.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, and is immediately surprised at himself. He was never tender to anyone but Pesci. He rationalizes it away as him feeling sorry for you. You were in a bad way, that was all.

“Unhand me, ham man,” you groan, and it should piss him off, but he feels relieved, which he decides to address at a later date.

“If you can still bitch, I think you’re going to make it. But I’m going to hurry regardless. I won’t have time to be gentle, so you’ll have to endure it.”

True to his word, he hauls you into the back of his car quickly rather than gently, lamenting the fate of the upholstery, and speeds to the closest hospital Passione is affiliated with.

You survive the attack, maybe thanks to him, maybe thanks to your sheer stubbornness. You’re out of commission for a few months, but eventually return to living at the house. Even when you’re recovered enough to be a threat again, enough to do your job, Risotto keeps you off of combat assignments for a few weeks. 

Naturally, you bitch about it. Prosciutto finds it a sign of your returned health and is glad, and subsequently wonders if he should address that at some point.

Ever since the stabbing, you’re gentler toward Prosciutto. Your normally biting comments and short fuse with the other members doesn’t seem to extend to him anymore.

What he doesn’t know is you think about your near death experience a lot as you tried to process it. And at your lowest moment, as you had been dying, you could only remember how he held you as he ran to his car–tightly, securely. You were trying to come to terms with how goddamned safe you had felt in that moment.

You don’t talk about the stabbing outside of your debriefing for a solid few weeks. Then, one day, you approach Prosciutto when he’s smoking on the balcony.

“About a few months ago,” you say.

He takes a deep inhale from his cigarette, watching you.

“Well…”

You’re uncomfortable. It’s all over your face, and in the way you can’t maintain eye contact with him. It’s unlike you. You’re normally so guarded against anyone else.

“I never thanked you. So I wanted to do that.” You glance at him, and then away again. “Thanks for saving my hide.”

Something overcomes Prosciutto. A warm feeling. He keeps his face composed, but reaches out a hand and rests it on the curve of your face.

You stiffen. He keeps watching you, rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he says. For a split second, you think you see the corners of his mouth twitch up. Then he puts out his cigarette and goes inside, leaving you shell-shocked on the balcony.

#jjba imagines #jjba x reader #prosciutto x reader #la squadra x reader #sorry about the tense changes im sorry.... #i haven't been able to write anything decent but this makes me a little happy so i thought I would share it #zen writes

[tonberry-yoda]

Hihi!! For the Fall Event, can I request "I hate pumpkins" with Prosciutto?

I Hate Pumpkins - Prosciutto 🎃

notes - HI LOVE! I thought this was such a cute idea! Thanks for sending it in and I hope your fall is going amazingly! Fall is such a good season omfg <333 word count - 291

"Babe!" you called from outside, opening the trunk of your car.

"What?" Prosciutto walked out of the house in a robe and some slippers; what a diva.

"I bought some stuff for fall! Come help!" you pulled out a giant pumpkin that you had to carry in both arms.

"Ugh, pumpkins?" he complained, rolling his eyes. "I hate pumpkins."

"You say that every year, dummy, and then I always make you pumpkin pie and roasted pumpkin seeds and you're all over it."

"Shut up, that is not true."

"Just help me get the stuff out of the car." you said, making it to the house and pressing a kiss onto his cheek.

He reluctantly helped you, bringing in a couple of pumpkins that he kept making disgusted faces at and you started putting up decorations around the house.

"What do you want for dinner?" you asked as Prosciutto finally brought in the last of the things from your car.

"I don't know." he sighed, slumping on the couch.

"Soup it is then!" You immediately started to prep a pumpkin to make some soup. As much as Prosciutto said that he hated pumpkins, he sure did enjoy the food that they made. You assumed that he just hated how gross they could be, but even then, you knew he just wanted to be complainy to get on your nerves.

When he walked into the kitchen after smelling something delightful, he sighed heavily. "Pumpkin? Why pumpkin?"

"Just shut up and eat it." You handed him a bowl and he took it with a face that was definitely acting as though he were disgusted. But the moment he took a bite, he lit up.

He ate the whole damn thing, too. What a diva.

~~~~~

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2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated <3

~~~~~

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[nemobeatrice]

The Golden Miners - Chapter 11: The Pink Guy

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Fugo woke up in his room and was about to get dressed when he saw a note on the floor near the door. It was from Giorno, saying that his dad found a house nearby. It had the address on it, too. Great, he thought, we can visit each other without driving. The note also said he wasn't here and he'd be helping unpack all day.

Okay, so Giorno wasn't going to be here. Fugo can survive. Good thing he's friends with Narancia. He texted him and waited for a reply. Usually, Narancia replied right away, but he was taking his sweet time. Well, he needed to change his clothes. However, he received nothing from his best friend after changing.

Something probably occupied Narancia's attention. For now, he got on his computer, having YouTube and Tumblr open on two different tabs. Then his phone rang, but the caller was Trish. What did she want now?

"Yes?" Fugo answered.

"Hey, are we that pink-haired guy?" Trish asked. "You know, Doppio?"

It all came back to him now. "Oh yeah. Unfortunately, Giorno isn't able to help. He moved into one of the houses here."

"Oh, well, at least Mista's replying to our text now."

Fugo had managed to see Mista's texts but was too tired to read them. He checked it now, and Mista left apologies for being unresponsive.

"So, about this search, why did you call me to help find—what's his name—Doppio?" he asked.

"Well, Mista said you're the smartest person. He'd figure you'd track him down. Go on, Google him."

Fugo rolled his eyes and did as she commanded. "Ugh, I keep getting places of coffee shops. Do we have any more details about this guy? I need to know if Doppio is his first or last name. Also, the exact city he resides in would be nice."

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"This is your problem."

He heard her sigh. "Okay, then let's ask Mista. He knows Prosciutto, who knows Risotto, who knows Doppio."

"Alright, then call him."

"Ugh, you're supposed to be the information gatherer. Fine, well, Narancia's angry with you."

"Uh-huh, sure."

Trish sighed. "And I'm angry too. But, unlike Narancia, I'm angry with both you and Giorno. You guys are rich enough to go to Disneyland and should've invited us."

"Why are you mad at us? We can't just ask for a bunch of money from our parents!"

"You're right! I hate your parents. Yeah, and even Giorno's dad!"

"Hold on. Can we get back on topic? If that's true, why would Narancia be mad at me?"

"I'll tell you if you give me the information I need."

"Ugh, fine! I'll call Mista." Fugo hung up on Trish and called Mista. "Hey, are you there, Mista? I need you to help me out with something."

"Oh, Fugo. It's you," Mista said, sounding depressed. "Sorry for not answering your calls and texts. I made everyone worry, didn't I?"

"Yeah." Formaggio was right. Prosciutto must've broken up with him. He wasn't sure how to approach this and was nervous. "Could you tell me about any of Prosciutto's friends?"

"Oh, sure." Mista sighed. "Formaggio seems alright. He's in a relationship with Illuso, a stuck-up prick. Pesci is Prosciutto's ugly little friend. He creeps me out. Melone's hot, but I think Ghiaccio, some guy who reminds me of you, is dating him. Then there's Prosciutto's boyfriend, Risotto. Not going to lie, he's hot as fuck. I guess I shouldn't be so upset he broke up with me. I would, too. I can't tell who's hotter, him or Giorno's dad."

Fugo almost barfed. "Um, could you tell me more about Risotto?"

"Did you and Giorno get into a fight or something? Risotto is a little too old for you."

"What? No! Oh my god! Just tell me about Doppio, the guy he was dating!"

"Sheesh, don't get your panties twisted! I met up with Doppio—oh, that's his last name, by the way—and he tried to get with me. Before I could agree, I asked him for his age, and he said he was 33. Dude looked like he had just turned 18! What the hell kind of anti-aging cream does he use? It's probably expensive. I turned him down. He seems high-end."

"What's his first name?" Fugo sounded impatient.

"Vinegar. Yeah, strange, I know. Hey, don't you find it's weird how we're named after food?"

Fugo ignored his question and searched Doppio, finding zero results. He used other search engines, and still nothing. "Does Doppio live in Italy?"

"Yeah, I assume somewhere in Sardinia. He sounds like he's from there. Why?"

"Ah, it's nothing. Where is Doppio usually? Do you have his contact information?"

"Sorry, but I don't know where you can find him, and he didn't give me his contact info."

"That's fine. Later." Fugo sighed and hung up on Mista. He dialed Trish, and she answered. "I need to confirm something. Your mother met your dad in Sardinia, right?"

"Yes, Costa Smeralda, to be exact," she answered. "Did you find him?"

"Not exactly. I can't find where he lives. His name is Vinegar Doppio, and he's 33. Mista assumed he lived in Sardinia. That's it. That's all the information I have."

"Thanks." Trish sighed. "I don't know what to do. How will I find him?"

"I would've told you if I knew that. You're going to do this by yourself."

"Except I'm not going to do this by myself. Besides, Narancia wants to help, and I think you guys need to fix what's going on between you two. This might be a great way, and Narancia isn't smart. He'll need all the help he can get. Let's—"

"Now, hold on!" an angered Fugo interrupted. "Narancia may be bad at math, but that does not mean he's a burden to the search!"

"You're right. I'm sorry. Let's meet at the beach. It's not too hot to go on a search."

-

Everyone except for Giorno was at the beach. Narancia didn't seem too happy with Fugo and tried to wedge Mista between them.

"Alright, everyone," Trish started, "Doppio isn't here, so we'll search all of Naples for hints or clues. Now, we'll split the group into two. I'll be with Sheila while you boys do whatever you do."

"I may not be the smartest," Narancia said. "But I won't be an issue. Do I need Fugo with me?"

Before Trish could answer, Fugo glared at him and interrupted. "If there's something you want to say, say it."

"We're going to go now," Trish said, taking Sheila by the hand and running away."

"Wait!" Mista was about to go after them but stopped, looking at his two friends arguing. "Hey, can we work together?"

"Did you enjoy the beach without us, Fugo?" Narancia questioned.

"I wished you joined us, but you just had to play Just Dance for hours!" yelled Fugo.

"You would've joined us if you weren't Giorno's little bitch!"

"Excuse me?"

"You've been spending so much time with Giorno that you've ignored us! Right, Mista?"

"Do I have to answer that? Could we please find Trish's dad?" Mista avoided.

"Ugh! Whatever. I supposed we should head to Risotto's house." Narancia took out his phone and typed away. Fugo caught a glimpse of Risotto's address in the Google results.

"How'd you know how to search for people's addresses?" Fugo asked.

"My Twitch chat told me one time. When you were off having fun at Disneyland without us, Formaggio doxxed me."

"I didn't know. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, whatever. I know where Risotto lives. Hmm, this neighborhood isn't so friendly. Luckily, I know friends who live there."

"Oh, those questionable friends who abandoned you?"

"Shut up!" Narancia threw a punch at him, but Mista gripped his arm before it made contact with Fugo's face.

"Stop, guys!" Mista separated them. "We're making a scene here. You're going to get the cops on us. Cool it! If we're lucky, Abbacchio might show up. Do you guys want to be lectured by him?"

"No," the boys answered.

Narancia sighed. "Let's just get this over with. Don't talk to anyone in this neighborhood. I hope Trish and Sheila don't follow us. I heard a few horror stories. You guys watch the news, right? Sometimes, the newscaster would talk about how bad it's over there."

"I hardly watch the news," Mista said, "but I got it. I brought a gun with me, just in case. Prosciutto gifted me his revolver." He let them have a peek at it before putting it away.

"Mista, I never asked if you're alright after the breakup. I'm sorry. Are you broken up with him?"

"I'm a little sad, but I'll be fine." Then he blushed. "Besides, I want to look at Risotto again, hehe!"

"The neighborhood isn't far. That must be why Risotto took Doppio here." Narancia grinned at Fugo. "Wow, you took Giorno near a dangerous neighborhood and didn't know? That's not like you."

Fugo clenched his fists. "Enough! Let's go."

The walk wasn't far. Fugo had never noticed the tall, grungy apartments because cleaner and well-maintained buildings hid them. New graffiti overlapped with the faded and ugly ones. Some were almost washed away. As for the people, unsavory people watched the boys. Fugo felt like someone was watching them and got closer to Narancia, but the black-haired boy coldly shoved him away.

"Dude, hug Mista. He's the one with the gun," Narancia whispered.

"Don't worry, Fugo. We're almost there," Mista said.

He wanted to look back to see if they were following, but Mista checked for him.

"Hey, you alright?" he whispered to him.

"Yeah, I think I'm just paranoid," Fugo answered, continuing to whisper.

"Can't blame you. You may be loaded, but you dress badly."

"Now that I think about it, I think I'm safe. You guys spend your allowance on expensive clothing."

"Seriously? Shit, no wonder why I felt eyes on me!" Mista panicked, no longer whispering.

"Mista, calm down!" Narancia ordered. He pulled out his pocket knife. "Where's Risotto's apartment number? If you guys are going to be pussies about this, I'm going by myself."

"And leave you by yourself?" Fugo said. "No."

"Quit pretending you care about me."

"Shut up!" Mista demanded. "We're near his home. Quiet!"

They stopped near a door. Fugo noticed signs of a break-in and some dried blood on the door frame. He moved the welcome mat, which covered more blood.

"I'm scared," Fugo admitted.

Risotto opened the door. He was tall and looked unamused. It seemed his presence intimated Narancia, seeing as he dropped his knife and bumped into Fugo.

"Mista?" Risotto spoke, and the two boys noticed their friend blushing furiously. "Who are these two?"

"H-hi! Um, do you know where Doppio is?" Mista asked.

"He went to meet a blond guy he met this morning. I don't know who. And before you ask Mista, it's not Prosciutto. He's with me."

"He's here? Um, do you guys want company?"

"Mista!" The two boys jabbed his stomach.

"Ouch! Okay, do you know this blond guy?"

"No," Risotto answered. "But I've seen him. He's the toughest guy I've ever seen. And before you go, I think that guy might be a tourist."

Before he could close the door, Mista put his foot in the doorway. "Do you have his number, Twitter, anything?"

"Doppio's tough to contact. He'll contact you when he wants to. Can you leave?"

Mista unlocked the door and left the neighborhood with his friends.

"So, all we have is a mysterious blond guy," Narancia said.

"And he's buff," Mista added.

"Don't tell me who I think it is," Fugo said. He got his phone out and called Giorno. "Hey, GioGio, what's your dad doing currently?"

"I'm not sure," Giorno answered. "I finished unpacking, but he wasn't helping me. Instead, he enlisted an army of his friends to help. It's ridiculous! Also, I have no idea where my mother is. Should I text him?"

"Yes."

"Okay, hold on. I just texted him. I'm waiting for a reply. Is there a reason why you need him?"

"Remember that pink-haired guy we saw at the beach? We might think he's Trish's dad and might be with your dad."

"Her dad with my dad? What do you mean?"

"Dating. They're together. That's what Risotto's saying."

"No, that can't be. My dad is with my mother. They're out there somewhere doing something." Fugo heard the doorbell ring through the phone. "Hold on. I think my dad is home. Hey, Dad, your friends— Oh no. Um, where's Mother? You broke up with her? Is that why you brought home this guy?" It sounded like Giorno was moving. "Hey, babe, you need to get over here."

"Thanks. I love you!" he said before hanging up. "Ugh, now I need to call Trish."

"Hey, I think I'll head home," Narancia said. Fugo knew him well enough to hear that sad tone in his voice.

"Hey, Narancia, I'm sorry for fighting with you."

He sighed. "I just want to be alone right now."

Fugo looked at Mista, hoping he'd know what's up. He didn't. They let Narancia walk away.

-

The four of them arrived at Giorno's house around 1 PM. Fugo rang the doorbell. Hopefully, Giorno heard the door. It sounded like he was having a party.

"Do you think Giorno's got food?" Mista asked. "We haven't eaten lunch."

"Sorry, I guess I was so caught up trying to search for my dad," Trish apologized. "Hmm, don't you think it's strange how Giorno's dad had vacationed here for a week and already has a house here? Can he do that, Fugo?"

"Trust me. He can," Fugo replied. Someone like Dio, who lived for a long time, must have friends in high places. He wondered what he could get away with.

Giorno opened the door. "Oh, guys, you're here."

"You just moved in," Trish said. "How have you finished unpacking?"

"Well, my dad called his friends here. And no, they're not from Japan. They're from Egypt and the other parts of Europe. I think that Hol Horse guy is from America. I don't know. He has guns and kind of dresses like a cowboy, but enough about them. I saw that pink-haired guy with my dad. Follow me. Close the door."

Trish got inside first. Fugo closed the door once everyone was in.

"Dude, Narancia's room looks nicer than this," Mista commented, looking at the beer bottles on the floor. "Are you sure you've finished unpacking?"

"It wasn't like this," Giorno explained while walking to the room where Dio held the party. "It got rowdy so fast. But Trish, how do you know if Doppio is your dad?"

"Well, I had this feeling at the beach. Do you want to know what's funny? Formaggio thought Doppio was my brother. And I'm getting that feeling again. I may not trust Formaggio, but I do trust my gut."

"Hey, Trish," Sheila said. "Formaggio said Doppio is with Giorno's dad—Dio, right? Um, does that mean Giorno's kind of like a brother?"

Mista laughed. "Hehe, Giorno and Trish are step-siblings! Why do I find that strange?"

"Wouldn't my dad have to marry Dio for him to be my stepbrother?" Trish asked, looking at Fugo.

"I'm exhausted to answer this. We've had a long day and gone without lunch," Fugo replied.

"My dad ordered pizza," Giorno said. "It'll be here soon."

They reached the door. Giorno opened it, and once he did, everyone in the room looked at them. They were all adults except for one. As for Dio and Doppio, the pink-haired man sat on his lap, making out with the blond, who squeezed him tightly. They stopped, realizing the silence filling the room, and turned to face them.

"Aw, I thought the pizza was here," Doppio whined.

"Shh." Dio planted his finger on Doppio's tender lips. "That's just my son and his friends." He looked at them. "Giorno, I said this party was for grown-ups only."

They eyed the only teenager in the party. The teen had a beer bottle in his hand.

"Except him. He's an exception. He was basically a baby, haha!"

"Um," Trish spoke up, making eye contact with Doppio. She struggled to get the words out, but there were too many people. They all looked at her with piercing stares. "Never mind," she said before leaving.

"Was she talking to me?" Doppio asked.

The doorbell rang.

"Giorno, make sure the girl doesn't get the pizza. I don't want her to eat it," Dio said.

"She hates pizza," Sheila informed.

"Giorno, get the pizza. I'll take care of Trish," Fugo said.

Fugo rushed to Trish, finding her in a corner, curled up in a ball and trembling. "Are you alright?"

She jumped and turned around. "Oh my gosh! It's you! Sorry, you surprised me. Gees, there are so many adults in there. They don't need to hear my business, and seeing Dio make out with my dad was weird."

"Yeah, it's weird. Maybe you should confront him next time."

"How will we even know if there will be a next time? It seems impossible to contact him."

"You're right, and I don't think we can ask Dio. He doesn't like you, it seems."

The two heard Sheila's footsteps. "Sorry, I had a few words with Doppio. He says he finds it silly that you're his kid, but once I showed him a photo of your mother, he had a headache and went to the bathroom. I'd follow him, but Dio yelled at me. What do we do?"

Trish sighed. "Let's just go home. Turns out this was just a waste of time. Oh, and Fugo, before we go, are we streaming Minecraft tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I feel Narancia is not on board," Fugo answered. "He's been hostile towards me."

Giorno held boxes of pizza stacked onto each other with a salad bowl on top and walked across the halls. "You guys hungry? We can't eat with the adults, but we can head to the dining room."

"Oh! A salad? Who ordered that?" Trish asked.

"Mariah did, but I don't think she'll mind if it disappeared." He smiled, handing her the bowl.

"Ah, you're the best!"

"Hey, where's Mista?" Fugo realized he disappeared again. "Don't tell me he's in the party room."

Sheila facepalmed. "He has to be. He's 18, isn't he? Giorno, get him out of there so we can eat with him."

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