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Entry tags:
- jjba: c: abbacchio,
- jjba: c: avdol,
- jjba: c: buccellati,
- jjba: c: diego,
- jjba: c: fugo,
- jjba: c: giorno,
- jjba: c: johnny,
- jjba: c: koichi,
- jjba: c: mista,
- jjba: c: narancia,
- jjba: c: polnareff,
- jjba: c: rohan,
- jjba: c: trish,
- jjba: diamond is unbreakable,
- jjba: p: buccellati/giorno,
- jjba: p: koichi/rohan,
- jjba: stardust crusaders,
- jjba: steel ball run,
- jjba: vento aureo
Cream of the Meme
Title: Cream of the Meme
Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Steel Ball Run + Vento Aureo + Stardust Crusaders + Diamond is Unbreakable
Character(s): Diego, Johnny, Giorno, Buccellati, Polnareff, Avdol, Koichi, Rohan, Narancia, Fugo, Mista, Abbacchio, Trish
Pairing(s): Diego/Johnny, Buccellati/Giorno, Avdol/Polnareff, Rohan/Koichi, Giorno/Buccellati/Narancia/Mista/Abbacchio/Trish
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,240
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Tooth-rottingly sweet ficlets.
Notes: That word count may be off.
Diego/Johnny
Molting is hardly fun for anybody, but more so when the molter in question can complain about it to anyone within earshot. Thus, Johnny is preening him before he can annoy him to death.
Diego is squirming, trying to dislodge some old feathers on his back that are stuck and he can’t reach.
It doesn’t work, and Johnny says, “Just hold still, you’re making my job harder.” He’s sitting behind him, running his hands carefully through the feathers growing in, searching for any old ones. When he finds one, he rubs it carefully between his fingers until it falls out.
It takes a long time and a lot of grumbling from Diego about how many he’s missing and be more gentle, those are attached to him, but eventually Johnny leans back. “I can’t find any more.”
Diego turns to look at them. “You got them all. I guess I owe you?” he asks.
Johnny waves a hand dismissively. “Just don’t whine about it so much next molting season, and ask me to do this sooner.”
Next season seems like a long way off to Diego. Johnny expects to be in the same relationship with him that far in the future.
It makes him smile, and Johnny looks at him like he’s weird for that and not for the molting thing.
Buccellati/Giorno
Giorno’s fond of movies, not in the way Mista is with having a favorite actress and being able to quote movies he likes offhand, but in the way that watching a movie makes the people watching it stop whatever else they’re doing and relax for an hour.
It’s a busy time for Passione’s higher-ups, and while Giorno could use the power of the boss to order Mista or anyone else to watch a movie with him, he doesn’t want the experience tainted by their minds being on work. Still, he wants to take a break, and he wants to do it with someone else.
Buccellati is hard at work in his office, but at the sight of Giorno holding a DVD in his hand, he puts down what he’s doing and joins him.
Giorno likes horror films, particularly cheesy ones. Buccellati watches almost anything, but horror films grant him the excuse to pretend to need to cuddle closer underneath the blanket on the couch in front of their TV. Giorno doesn’t buy that he’s frightened for a minute, but slips an arm around him anyway.
Sometime during the climax scene, Buccellati’s head hits Giorno’s shoulder. Giorno tucks the blanket closer around him and switches off the movie. He’s seen this one before anyway, and Buccellati so close to him is more relaxing than any film could be.
He doesn’t want to disturb Buccellati’s rest, and Giorno falls asleep like that on the sofa.
The next morning, both of them pretend not to have woken up for a few more precious minutes of peace and comfort.
Avdol/Polnareff
Polnareff is not big on breakfast.
France in general is not big on what they call ‘a little lunch’: one has a piece of fruit, or a pastry and some coffee. It is of course a delicious pastry, because everything French is scrumptious, but still, it’s not a large meal.
Avdol’s breakfast consists of fava beans, ‘ful’, and vegetables. Polnareff has tried it on occasion, and it’s not bad, a little bitter for his tastes but he could get used to it. Avdol says that the French pastries are too sweet for his tongue.
Now and again, on special occasions or just whenever Polnareff doesn’t feel like crawling out of bed, Avdol will bring him his fruit and pastries on a tray. They’ll chat while Polnareff takes his meager breakfast.
Now and again, Polnareff stares at one of their cookbooks trying to convince himself that he fought a vampire and survived, foreign cuisine can pose no threat to him.
Today Avdol is awoken not by a delicious smell from the kitchen, but from loud cursing. He throws something on and heads to the kitchen, where Polnareff is glaring at his ful.
Polnareff looks to him. “This doesn’t taste anything like what you make.”
Avdol tries a spoonful of it. “You shelled the beans, didn’t you?” he asks.
“You’re supposed to shell fava beans, they come out too bitter otherwi- oooh.” Polnareff slumps. “I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but obviously that won’t work now.”
Avdol smiles. “I’m grateful that you thought of it, and doubly so that you would choose something I enjoy. But perhaps if you are learning how to prepare my country’s food for the first time, I should be there to guide you?”
Polnareff rubs his head. “How do you make that much sense when you’ve just woken up?”
Rohan/Koichi
Rohan has a way of getting people to do things they don’t really want to do, or at least, he has a way of getting Koichi to do things he doesn’t really want to do.
Koichi knows, of course, that if you’re going to study musculature and things like that, your model can’t be wearing clothes. It’s kind of weird doing this for Rohan, who he knows, but it’s not modesty that makes him want to cover up or just run away.
Koichi is tiny. That much is obvious to anyone. He’s tiny and he has hardly any muscle on him at all. Rohan says it’s important to have different body shapes in art, but Koichi can’t imagine anyone remotely heroic looking having his body shape and size.
Rohan looks at him narrowly over his drawing pad. “Stay still.”
“Sorry.” Koichi can’t help but ask, “Who are you using this for?”
Rohan continues to draw rapidly as he speaks. “I don’t know yet. I could use your body shape for any character, conceivably.”
“I can’t think of anybody heroic having my height.” Koichi tries to laugh like it’s a joke. The fact that Rohan’s pen has stopped moving suggests that he wasn’t fooled. “I mean-”
“You know at least one hero your size, don’t you?” Rohan asks, like he’s saying the completely obvious. “Yourself.”
Then, while Koichi is still processing, he goes back to drawing.
Passione OT7
Narancia has been napping on the sofa for a while now, so that he wakes up screaming catches everyone’s attention. Fugo rushes to his side first. “What’s the matter?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
Narancia rubs his eyes, trying to steady his breath. “I… I had a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream.”
Giorno asks, “What was it about?”
“It was about all of us. We went traitor, and you all died and left me.” Narancia sits up on the couch and wraps his arms around his knees.
He’s joined by Mista, who sits next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. “That’s never gonna happen.”
“But it could! We’re all in a job like this, what if I’m the last one-”
“It won’t happen.” Abbacchio speaks firmly. “So there’s no need to worry about it.”
Trish squeezes herself into the remaining space on the other side of Narancia. “There’s no way. You’re all too smart to get killed.”
Buccellati kneels in front of the couch. “It’s a frightening dream,” he says, “but only a dream. Right now, we’re all here with you, and for as long as we live we’ll stay with you.”
Narancia wipes a tear from his face and smiles.
Fandom: JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure: Steel Ball Run + Vento Aureo + Stardust Crusaders + Diamond is Unbreakable
Character(s): Diego, Johnny, Giorno, Buccellati, Polnareff, Avdol, Koichi, Rohan, Narancia, Fugo, Mista, Abbacchio, Trish
Pairing(s): Diego/Johnny, Buccellati/Giorno, Avdol/Polnareff, Rohan/Koichi, Giorno/Buccellati/Narancia/Mista/Abbacchio/Trish
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1,240
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Summary: Tooth-rottingly sweet ficlets.
Notes: That word count may be off.
Molting is hardly fun for anybody, but more so when the molter in question can complain about it to anyone within earshot. Thus, Johnny is preening him before he can annoy him to death.
Diego is squirming, trying to dislodge some old feathers on his back that are stuck and he can’t reach.
It doesn’t work, and Johnny says, “Just hold still, you’re making my job harder.” He’s sitting behind him, running his hands carefully through the feathers growing in, searching for any old ones. When he finds one, he rubs it carefully between his fingers until it falls out.
It takes a long time and a lot of grumbling from Diego about how many he’s missing and be more gentle, those are attached to him, but eventually Johnny leans back. “I can’t find any more.”
Diego turns to look at them. “You got them all. I guess I owe you?” he asks.
Johnny waves a hand dismissively. “Just don’t whine about it so much next molting season, and ask me to do this sooner.”
Next season seems like a long way off to Diego. Johnny expects to be in the same relationship with him that far in the future.
It makes him smile, and Johnny looks at him like he’s weird for that and not for the molting thing.
Giorno’s fond of movies, not in the way Mista is with having a favorite actress and being able to quote movies he likes offhand, but in the way that watching a movie makes the people watching it stop whatever else they’re doing and relax for an hour.
It’s a busy time for Passione’s higher-ups, and while Giorno could use the power of the boss to order Mista or anyone else to watch a movie with him, he doesn’t want the experience tainted by their minds being on work. Still, he wants to take a break, and he wants to do it with someone else.
Buccellati is hard at work in his office, but at the sight of Giorno holding a DVD in his hand, he puts down what he’s doing and joins him.
Giorno likes horror films, particularly cheesy ones. Buccellati watches almost anything, but horror films grant him the excuse to pretend to need to cuddle closer underneath the blanket on the couch in front of their TV. Giorno doesn’t buy that he’s frightened for a minute, but slips an arm around him anyway.
Sometime during the climax scene, Buccellati’s head hits Giorno’s shoulder. Giorno tucks the blanket closer around him and switches off the movie. He’s seen this one before anyway, and Buccellati so close to him is more relaxing than any film could be.
He doesn’t want to disturb Buccellati’s rest, and Giorno falls asleep like that on the sofa.
The next morning, both of them pretend not to have woken up for a few more precious minutes of peace and comfort.
Polnareff is not big on breakfast.
France in general is not big on what they call ‘a little lunch’: one has a piece of fruit, or a pastry and some coffee. It is of course a delicious pastry, because everything French is scrumptious, but still, it’s not a large meal.
Avdol’s breakfast consists of fava beans, ‘ful’, and vegetables. Polnareff has tried it on occasion, and it’s not bad, a little bitter for his tastes but he could get used to it. Avdol says that the French pastries are too sweet for his tongue.
Now and again, on special occasions or just whenever Polnareff doesn’t feel like crawling out of bed, Avdol will bring him his fruit and pastries on a tray. They’ll chat while Polnareff takes his meager breakfast.
Now and again, Polnareff stares at one of their cookbooks trying to convince himself that he fought a vampire and survived, foreign cuisine can pose no threat to him.
Today Avdol is awoken not by a delicious smell from the kitchen, but from loud cursing. He throws something on and heads to the kitchen, where Polnareff is glaring at his ful.
Polnareff looks to him. “This doesn’t taste anything like what you make.”
Avdol tries a spoonful of it. “You shelled the beans, didn’t you?” he asks.
“You’re supposed to shell fava beans, they come out too bitter otherwi- oooh.” Polnareff slumps. “I was trying to make you breakfast in bed, but obviously that won’t work now.”
Avdol smiles. “I’m grateful that you thought of it, and doubly so that you would choose something I enjoy. But perhaps if you are learning how to prepare my country’s food for the first time, I should be there to guide you?”
Polnareff rubs his head. “How do you make that much sense when you’ve just woken up?”
Rohan has a way of getting people to do things they don’t really want to do, or at least, he has a way of getting Koichi to do things he doesn’t really want to do.
Koichi knows, of course, that if you’re going to study musculature and things like that, your model can’t be wearing clothes. It’s kind of weird doing this for Rohan, who he knows, but it’s not modesty that makes him want to cover up or just run away.
Koichi is tiny. That much is obvious to anyone. He’s tiny and he has hardly any muscle on him at all. Rohan says it’s important to have different body shapes in art, but Koichi can’t imagine anyone remotely heroic looking having his body shape and size.
Rohan looks at him narrowly over his drawing pad. “Stay still.”
“Sorry.” Koichi can’t help but ask, “Who are you using this for?”
Rohan continues to draw rapidly as he speaks. “I don’t know yet. I could use your body shape for any character, conceivably.”
“I can’t think of anybody heroic having my height.” Koichi tries to laugh like it’s a joke. The fact that Rohan’s pen has stopped moving suggests that he wasn’t fooled. “I mean-”
“You know at least one hero your size, don’t you?” Rohan asks, like he’s saying the completely obvious. “Yourself.”
Then, while Koichi is still processing, he goes back to drawing.
Narancia has been napping on the sofa for a while now, so that he wakes up screaming catches everyone’s attention. Fugo rushes to his side first. “What’s the matter?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”
Narancia rubs his eyes, trying to steady his breath. “I… I had a bad dream. It’s just a bad dream.”
Giorno asks, “What was it about?”
“It was about all of us. We went traitor, and you all died and left me.” Narancia sits up on the couch and wraps his arms around his knees.
He’s joined by Mista, who sits next to him and rests a hand on his shoulder. “That’s never gonna happen.”
“But it could! We’re all in a job like this, what if I’m the last one-”
“It won’t happen.” Abbacchio speaks firmly. “So there’s no need to worry about it.”
Trish squeezes herself into the remaining space on the other side of Narancia. “There’s no way. You’re all too smart to get killed.”
Buccellati kneels in front of the couch. “It’s a frightening dream,” he says, “but only a dream. Right now, we’re all here with you, and for as long as we live we’ll stay with you.”
Narancia wipes a tear from his face and smiles.