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#cop!abbacchio
heyitsshoko · 2 months
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I absolutely hate but love this thing I made
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Photo
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Mall cop Abbacchio
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fuckmachine42069 · 6 months
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stupid so so stupid golden wind doodles, featuring most importantly trish meat dress !!!!!!
details under the cut :33
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the stupidest bruabba i think i’ve ever drawn
like idk what it is about the lin manuel miranda pose that screams bruno to me
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sboopie · 2 years
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Ever wondered what the hell my layout actually is? Its a bunch of bruabba redraws as this music video 💔
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Bonus:
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xochy · 10 months
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I saw someone point out that the question is actually asking about passione yknow the whole organization as opposed to just Bruno’s team only. And I’m still gonna act like that’s the case but imagine. Imagine.
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pipartuuli · 1 year
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what if the first thing I posted in 2023 was completely self-indulgent?? hmmm
anyway, present day drug task force Abba or something idk, he's about to bust Diavolo lol
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mrlowell · 5 months
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The morning after.
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heatwa-ves · 2 months
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hiii 1,2 and 3 for the identity ask game :3
1. if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?
this one movie about britain in the 80s that I can't bring myself to rec because a) it requires like fifty different cws and b) it feels too personal to talk about.
also a 100k fic that is no longer on ao3 + shimanami tasogare the only manga ever + lionheart enstars + all my rage by sabaa tahir + these three songs
2. have you ever found a writer who thinks just like you? if so, who?
idk? the only one who comes to mind is mieko kawakami I've been reading one of her books on and off for the past two years I keep having to take breaks for months because it affects me too much. shoutout to heaven for fucking me up bad I still haven't finished it
3. list your fandoms and one character from each that you identify with.
im like if ritsu enstars was a hot girl!
also less a character I identify with and more a character I think I understand uhh shoutout to jotaro for being just like me fr aro autistic biracial weird about the ocean etc. he's not my fav jojo but he is someone I want to shake like a snowglobe his relationship with holly makes me bleed out and die.
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lady-wallace · 6 months
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Whumptober Day 9 - "Wrong Place, Right Time" (JoJo's Bizarre Adventure)
Today's whumptober prompt is the first part of a 2-parter (the 2nd part will be up on the 18th) This is set pre-series and explores the idea that Bucciarati and Abbacchio met when Abbacchio was still with the police. 
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Prompts Used: Polaroid, Mistaken Identity Fandom: JoJo's Bizarre Adventure Part 5 Character: Abbacchio
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Read on Ao3
Read on FF.net
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Bucciarati wiped the blood from his knuckles as he left the groaning man on the floor of the office where the Soldati he had come with surrounded him. If this man did not learn his lesson about dealing behind Polpo's back in the capo's own territory, then the next time, there would be more than a beating coming his way.
New gangs had been popping up in the area, boldly going up against Passione since Polpo had been put in prison and the Capo had commanded Bruno and a team of hand-picked Soldati to search them out and send a warning. The Capo did not tolerate anyone encroaching on his territory, especially now when he couldn't make an example himself.
Thus, that's where Bruno Bucciarati came in; too young to be as feared as he was. Swiftly becoming Polpo's most trusted confidant, seeing that his direct orders came to fruition.
"Come. Our job here is done for the night," Bruno called to the other men as he left the office and made his way through the club.
When he got outside, he frowned when he realized the rest of the men who had come with him were no longer at their post outside the club.
"Now where the hell could they all have gone?" he muttered under his breath.
One of the Soldati suddenly came around the corner. "Bucciarati! We found a straggler, one of the men from the picture!"
Bucciarati made his way with the man to the alley behind the club where he could hear the sounds of a struggle and muffled shouting.
He frowned, hurrying over to where the rest of the Soldati were currently surrounding a figure, two shoving him roughly against the wall of the club, holding him there as the others began to beat him viciously.
"What's this?" Bruno demanded.
The man tried to struggle away from the Soldati but one of the men grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face down against his knee before he drove a vicious kick into the man's stomach, making him collapse with a gag.
One of the men left the group to come over to Bruno. "We found him skulking around. He matches the picture of one of the bastards we're after, right?"
Brow furrowing as the sounds of the beating, continued. Bruno dug into his pocket to pull out the polaroid he'd been given—the only real evidence they had of their rivals. Three men standing in front of a warehouse in a drug deal—two dark-haired men and one with silver hair.
Bruno glanced over at the figure his men were still doing their best to beat into the ground before looking back at the photo. "Hold on, does he have a scar on his face?"
The man seemed to be unconscious by this point, body jerking limply now with every blow.
"Enough!" Bruno snapped, shoving the Soldati aside to crouch beside the unconscious figure. He cringed as he saw how much blood was on the man's face, smearing in the dark makeup he'd been wearing, but there was very obviously not a scar from the corner of his eye to his jawline.
Bruno clicked his tongue in annoyance. "You idiots! This isn't even the right man."
"Then why the hell was he hanging around here at night?"
Something caught Bruno's eye, glinting in the light of a nearby streetlamp and he reached for the wallet that must have fallen out of the man's pocket during the beating. As he turned it over, his blood went cold, seeing the golden badge and credentials that denoted that this man wasn't even just some innocent bystander, but was, in fact, a cop.
"You damned idiots!" Bruno snarled at his men as he stood up, holding up the wallet. "He's a cop. You just beat up a cop!"
"This punk?" one of the men nudged the unconscious man incredulously.
Bruno grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shoved him backward. "Apparently, yes!"
"So what?" one of the Soldati shrugged. "We'll just leave him here. It's too dark for him to have seen any of us clearly."
"Brilliant plan," Bruno muttered sarcastically. "No, I'll do the damage control because you all obviously cannot be trusted to do anything." He snarled at them and they inched away. "Polpo will be hearing about this hack job. Someone bring the car around."
They left, one man spitting in annoyance. Bruno marked who it was and glanced back at the unconscious man—the unconscious cop—at his feet. He glanced back at the officer's credentials, seeing the ID card that identified him as a Leone Abbacchio. The fresh-faced young man on the picture made Bruno realize that this Officer Abbacchio may not be much older than he was. Though he was certainly a little worse-for-wear right now thanks to Bruno's incorrigible goons.
He huffed an annoyed breath, pocketing the badge and looked up as the Soldati pulled up with the car. He went to retrieve the keys and dismissed the rest of the men.
"Go home. We'll let our warning sink in and proceed from there."
By the time Bruno got back to the injured man he was stirring slightly, letting out a soft groan. Bruno wasted no time in reaching down and heaving him up. The man was quite a bit taller than he was, but Bruno still managed to maneuver him up and into the passenger seat of the car.
At least until the man started to struggle.
"G-geddoff," he croaked, trying to pull away from Bruno's grip.
"Don't fight," Bruno commanded. "We're just going to take a drive."
He dumped the man in the seat and went through the rest of his pockets to make sure he didn't have any weapons. It seemed like Officer Abbacchio was indeed off duty though because he only had his wallet and credentials on him. The man tried to fight him off, but he was weak and disoriented, likely suffering a concussion. He slumped instead against the dashboard with a tired groan, and Bruno gingerly pushed him back and closed the door before getting into the driver's seat.
Once in the car, he realized he didn't know what he was going to do. What exactly did damage control look like in this instance? The most logical thing would be to drop him off at a hospital or the police station, but he could hardly allow his face to be seen at the station, and the hospital staff would undoubtedly identify him to the police if he dropped the man off there.
Bruno swore under his breath as he glanced over at the unconscious police officer currently bleeding into the upholstery. His last idea was perhaps even more stupid than the others, but it was the only option where he could make sure he controlled the situation entirely.
After all, he did say he was doing damage control.
XXX
Fugo was not amused when Bruno called him down to the car to help him drag an unconscious cop up to their apartment.
"Why the hell did you bring him here? You think he won't say anything?"
"He's not even awake at the moment and I can always blindfold him on the way out."
Fugo grunted, shaking his head as they got their guest into the apartment and deposited him onto the couch.
"I'll get the first aid kit," Fugo said in resignation.
Bruno took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. Now in the light, Officer Abbacchio looked a hell of a lot worse, bloody nose, split lip, one eye nearly swollen shut. Bruno tsked under his breath, annoyance at his trigger-happy co-workers resurfacing. Of course they couldn't be bothered to check for clearly identifying marks, and now he had an unconscious cop on his couch in his apartment. And maybe Fugo had a point.
Fugo returned and put their hefty medical box down next to the couch.
"Help me?" Bruno asked as he started to try and tug Officer Abbacchio's coat off.
Fugo huffed and helped Bruno prop him up to remove the item, revealing a blood-stained black t-shirt which Bruno then peeled up, revealing a mess of bruises and potentially cracked ribs.
"Stupid bastards," he muttered.
Fugo clicked his tongue. "He should be in a hospital, Bucciarati."
"I can't risk being seen taking him there."
"You couldn't have left him where he was and called in an anonymous tip to the station?"
Bruno pressed his lips together. "He's here now. It doesn't matter."
"You do realize he'll see your face. Mine too, for that matter."
"With one eye and a concussion? I doubt he'll remember specifics," Bruno replied confidently and got up to find a towel which he wet to start cleaning up the blood.
Worst case scenario, the man would try to figure out who he was and Bruno would evade him—hopefully. Best case, Officer Abbacchio might be grateful and leave Bruno be. And if that were the case, then it wouldn't necessarily be bad to have a cop in his pocket, especially one that owed him.
XXX
Abbacchio swam up through the darkness to a clash of red pain assaulting him. He had the distinct recollection that he was in danger, that he needed to fight. His fists clenched at his sides as he shifted.
Something dug into his ribs and he gasped, prying his eyes open and striking blindly at whatever it was.
"Easy!" a voice called from close by. "You're not being assaulted anymore. I'm just trying to assess the damage."
Abbacchio groaned and blinked, trying to focus on anything, vision blurry. "The hell…?" he croaked, trying to get up.
"I would suggest lying down, you have at least two cracked ribs and possibly a concussion."
Before Abbacchio could process that news, a light was shoved directly into his face and he winced, pulling away with a curse.
"Actually, definitely a concussion," the voice continued with a sigh.
"Who are you?" Abbacchio grunted, uneasy. He tried to look around again, expecting maybe a clinic, but from what he could tell, it appeared he was lying on someone's couch. "Where are we?"
"You can call me Bruno, and you are currently in my apartment. I apologize for my friends—they were a little too overzealous and didn't pay attention to the details."
Whatever that was supposed to mean. Abbacchio cringed. The man in question, Bruno, began to come into focus. A blur of white and black and blue took shape into a very young man in a white suit with a sharply cut black bob.
"Your friends?"
"Yes, officer. I promise they will be punished for their lapse in judgement."
Wait…officer? Did he know…?
Abbacchio felt around himself for his coat, but he was no longer wearing it, which meant that his badge was also no longer on him and this man had it.
"Where are my things?" he demanded.
"Just over there."
Abbacchio pushed himself up, ignoring the surge of dizziness and the pounding in his head. "I'm leaving. And you're coming to the station with me to explain about your friends."
"I wouldn't—"
He tried to stand and instantly felt pain clash through his skull, causing him to wobble and his knees to give out. He collapsed but Bruno caught him with a surprising amount of strength, pushing him back down onto the couch.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Officer Abbacchio," Bruno said firmly. "You are free to leave at any time, however I would highly suggest you stay put until you can at least walk."
Abbacchio shook, both in fury and anxiety. "You're a mafioso," he spat. "Aren't you?"
"Yes. And you're a cop," Bruno replied simply. "And yet I took it upon myself to bring you back to my home and tend to your injuries."
"What do you want?" Abbacchio demanded.
Bruno sat down on the coffee table in front of him. "Nothing. You can explain the events of the night however you want. I would never ask you to lie, officer."
Abbacchio narrowed his eyes at him, head still pounding too much to think about this right now. He supposed that if this mafioso wanted him dead he could have just left his men to finish him off in the alley. And, while it infuriated him, he realized he was completely at this man's mercy in his current condition and didn't have much choice but to trust him.
The door to the apartment opened and Abbacchio looked up, ready for another attack, but it was just an even younger teen with blond hair, carrying a bag with him.
"Who's that?" Abbacchio demanded.
Bruno glanced over his shoulder. "My brother," he said instantly.
Funny. They didn't look anything alike.
"He's awake?" the blond asked warily.
"Yes, and the good news is he seems coherent," Bruno replied, smiling briefly at Abbacchio. "Can I get you anything? I can offer some pain pills and water."
"You think I'm taking pills from a gangster?" Abbacchio snarled.
Bruno's face suddenly darkened with a serious air. "I don't deal in drugs. Don't lump me in with the other filth."
His conviction and obvious disgust surprised Abbacchio, but he was distracted by the blond coming over and setting a bottle of pills and a glass of water on the coffee table.
"It's a good idea to take them," the blond said matter-of-factly. "Though it's funny hearing him give medical advice."
Bruno frowned, but counted out two pills and handed those and the water to Abbacchio.
He stared at the items for a long moment before he took them and swallowed the pills down.
"Now, I'd let you stay the night, but if you'd rather go home, I can drive you."
Abbacchio certainly didn't want to spend the night on a mafioso's couch, so he nodded slowly. "I'm not staying here."
"Very well then," Bruno said, getting up and nodding to the blond. "He might need a hand up."
The blond huffed but came over and helped Bruno pull Abbacchio to his feet. He was still unsteady, head swimming, but he breathed through the dizziness for a couple seconds—which made his ribs hurt—then allowed Bruno to lead him slowly toward the door.
It was a longer trip than Abbacchio would like to admit down to the bottom of the apartment building, but Bruno was surprisingly patient. He wondered how the two had even gotten him up there in the first place but dismissed that to spare his aching head.
He was relieved to finally sit in the car when they reached the parking lot and Bruno handed him his coat and wallet.
He looked through the wallet and credentials to make sure nothing had been stolen as Bruno started the car.
"So where are we going?" he asked.
Abbacchio blinked, looking around. He was pretty sure he knew where they were and put that to mind but he wasn't about to let this mafioso know he was that aware at the moment.
"Uh, you can drop me off on Fifth."
"And how far do you have to walk from there?" Bruno asked.
"None of your damn business."
Bruno shrugged. "Fair enough." He pulled the car away from the curb and started driving in the direction Abbacchio had indicated.
"Why did you take me back to your place?" he finally asked.
Bruno looked over at him. "Because my men made a mistake and I couldn't in good conscious leave you there lying in some alley all night. There's plenty of bastards around there who would be more than happy to take out their frustrations on an injured cop. You would have done the same had our roles been reversed, I'm sure?"
Abbacchio grunted. "My job is to see justice done," he muttered.
"Then that already makes you better than most of your co-workers, Officer Abbacchio," Bruno said easily, not seeming offended by it. And, frankly, neither was Abbacchio. It was the truth, after all, he couldn't deny that.
Bruno pulled up to the street indicated and Abbacchio glanced down to where his apartment was. He figured he could make it there. The pain medicine was kicking in quite nicely.
"Thanks—but listen," he said, spearing Bruno with a look. "This doesn't mean I owe you a favor. It would be best if neither of us saw each other again."
"Of course." Bruno smiled in a way that was a little too knowing for Abbacchio. He opened the door and was about to get out before Bruno continued, "But, I do have something you might be interested in."
Abbacchio glanced back, ready to refuse, expecting a bribe of some kind, but Bruno only had a polaroid in his hand.
"What is it?" Abbacchio asked, curious despite his better judgement.
"If these men were to go to jail it would make life easier for both of us," Bruno explained. "And if you're interested, breaking a case like this might move you up in the world, officer."
"You're basically asking me to do a hit for you?" Abbacchio demanded.
"Not at all," Bruno replied sincerely. "Me passing you this information is no different than tips you'd get from one of your informants—that's what you can say if anyone asks. Or, you can explain that this picture fell out of one of the men's pockets as they were beating you." He smirked and Abbacchio stared at him incredulously. "Either way, it would, in the end, be doing both of us a favor."
Abbacchio continued staring at the picture for a long moment before he sighed and took it.
"I'll look into it," he said. "But I'm only doing this because it's my job."
"Of course," Bruno replied. "Take care, Officer Abbacchio."
Abbacchio pulled himself out of the car and shuffled slowly down the street to his apartment. He glanced at the photo one last time and shook his head, shoving it into his pocket.
For some reason, he didn't think he had seen the last of this Bruno fellow and he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a very bad one.
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goatpaste · 1 year
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I genuinely love Bruabba so so much it keeps me going so to see you, someone whomst I deeply respect and admire the taste of, saying you don't like Bruabba... is there a particular reason??? I'm just. they're the Passione parents...
I hate abbacchio lol
I see them and my brain goes here:
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abbacchiosbelt · 2 years
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It surprises me people still mock Abbacchio when he seems to be the most sophisticated of the gang. Man likes Monteverdi and his favourite film is Sling Blade? He seems quite an intellectual to me.
honestly i think some people just like taking the piss out (ha) of their faves! i personally do. i love to look at my faves and call them pathetic little wet tissues. little creatures.
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butcharyastark · 8 months
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no but i do not fucking understand abbacchio defenders who try to combat accusations of him being immoral on the basis of being an ex-cop bc "but he was a CORRUPT ex-cop!"
LIKE THAT'S WORSE. YOU UNDERSTAND HOW THAT'S WORSE RIGHT?
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Mall Cop Abbacchio
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daisys-gard3n · 2 years
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Ha ha oh nooo would b a shame if mr scummy cop abbacchio snuck into my holding cell bc he arrested me on a fake charge and used me while I slept....Ohh nooo don't use me like a pocket pussy and breed me so that i wake up with cum in me and canr do anything about it sirrr
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passionesolja · 2 years
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Me when the whole Jedi Order died:
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Me whenever a side character in JoJo dies:
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sneeplerbeepler · 2 years
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there is NO way the piss tea scene in part 5 wasn't racially motivated
1. we know already that giorno's experience in Italy was a racialized one, so we can conclude that he's not white passing
2. when abbacchio gave him the piss in a cup he'd known him not even a minute and already hated his guts. there's no indication he'd done anything like this to the anyone on the team except giorno
3. the main thing that would distinctly set giorno apart from the rest of them and make dollar tree sephiroth hate him is that he's a poc
thanks for coming to my ted talk
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