lexiconniption-blog - Tumblr blog

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every single damn thing i say about my ability, white album, goes in one ear, out the other. maaaan! how the hell else can i put it for ya? ehhh…? eh? ehhhh?! – at absolute zero, AIR FREEZES.

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there’s going to be changes here made in the next upcoming days ! just an fyi. i might remake this blog.

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“I had them made. I know what you like.” 

He looked rather smug, tearing the wrapping paper off his own gift. Removing the lid of the box, he pulled out a set of nice headphones and a warm scarf. Instantly wrapping himself in the scarf, he put his arm around the blonde and pulled him close to him.

“Buon Natale, Melone.”

Ghiaccio really as too cute on holidays. He got so excited that his usually grumpy exterior practically melted away. 

Melone curled his fingers around the box before curiosity got he better of him and he tugged the paper away from it. His eyes practically sparkled at the sight of the necklace and earrings.

“Where did you get these?”

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Ghiaccio took the box, though leaning over to steal just a few more kisses from Melone in gratitude and excitement. One could say it’s almost too childish the way he acts about this occasion, sure, but he literally could care less about that. Another year of survival, another year to reap the rewards, after all.

“Thanks!”

But Ghiaccio didn’t forget about him, either; slipping a small box from his pocket and putting it into Melone’s hand before drawing him in for one more quick peck.

Ghiaccio is showered in kisses as soon as he alked in the door, of course and then Melone is handing him a box that was wrapped in soft shades of blue and white. 

“Welcome home. This one’s for Christmas. There’s cake in the kitchen.” Cake he spent several hours trying to get just right, mind you.

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here's your yearly bonus. also i wound up increasing your pay because some asshole named murolo was trying to sour things between la squadra and i.

( BEST. DAY. EVER. )

R-really? Grazie, Boss! -- Wait, who?

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leans his head onto his shoulder. he's tired.

Though he’s initially surprised, he makes no move to push the younger man off of him, and instead settles a bit so he can get a little more comfortable.

“Good morning, Don Giovanna.”

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hell. fucking. YES.

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( grabs this nerd and smooches him. ) happy birthday, darling. and merry christmas, too.

( laughs and kisses melone back, wrapping his arms around him. )

Thanks.

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( Takes Prosciutto’s gift. Freezes it over. Walks into the living room and PITCHES IT DIRECTLY TOWARDS HIS HEAD. )

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Tomorrow...

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TAGGED BY: @magneticcurse REPOST | DO NOT REBLOG

BASICS

NAME OR ALIAS: dallas / ghiaccio AGE: 20 PRONOUNS: he/him or they/them BIRTHDAY: july 30 ZODIAC SIGN: leo HEIGHT: 5′8″ ft. TAKEN OR SINGLE: gay af for @fortunatenax  TIME: 9:36 pm est SLEEP: no FAVORITE BOOKS: c-comic books... /sweating. though i want to read more haruki murakami novels, even though kaftka on the shore is OFF THE WALL. FAVORITE ARTISTS: mystery skulls, foster the people, phoenix, madeon, marina & the diamonds... LAST MOVIE WATCHED: um... jurassic world DREAM JOB: voice actor. THREE FACTS: i own a turtle, his name is max. i have a weird, splotchy, birthmark that stretches across my entire left arm and to my chest. MEANING OF URL: it’s a pun. lexicon refers to language, combined with conniption, which is a fit of rage.

EXPERIENCE

platforms you’ve used. | deviantart, rpchat, msn, furcadia, tumblr, skype. best experience. | meeting @diimolto & @cnepunchman...

MUSE PREFERENCE

female or male. |  agender & androgynous. rubs my genderless hands all over your faves. favorite face(s) | none... least favourite face(s) | none... single or multimuse | single.

WRITING PREFERENCE

fluff, angst or smut. | angst. plots or memes. | memes that inspire plots. long or short replies. | depends.

tagging: anybody who wants. (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

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( ☆ / ☆ / ☆ / ☆ )

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WHO’S TALKING SHIT ABT MISTA

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Reblog if (ง︡’-‘︠)ง

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scompariire:

If Sorbet hadn’t been so used to making himself into a ghost for his job, the last two years would have driven him completely and totally mad. Even Gelato’s presence hadn’t helped him very much, if only because the fact that Gelato was there because he couldn’t protect him.

Seeing Ghiaccio now, though, it made his dead heart throb. All the rest of his family had given their lives, laid scattered across Italy, and for what?

For this?

He wrapped his arms around Ghiaccio’s shoulders and tugged his son close to his chest, pressing his cheek to the top of the other’s hair. He had so desperately missed this, missed being close to the younger Stand user.

“Ghiaccio, I’m so sorry you got dragged into this.”

Ghiaccio’s eyes widened, and he wrapped his arms around Sorbet tightly for a moment before pushing back from him, skipping just a few feet back. It couldn’t be real, could it? Was he hallucinating?  It didn’t matter now, he practically slammed into the taller man, digging his face into his chest. Apologies thoroughly mixed through with French and Italian, the young assassin was finally able to pull himself together enough to speak.

“N-No! I wanted to kill him for what he did to you! And Gelato! I-I just... was not prepared for them... I am so sorry... I failed... ”

He dug his face deeper into Sorbet’s chest, heaving a sigh. He wanted this for so long, but every inch of him was having such a hard time accepting the fact he was dead. That there would be others dead.

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Ghiaccio had been sitting there nearly an hour after he first woke up and two since Risotto had left with what remained of his body. There was nothing left for him to do now, was there? Except go back. And he was too terrified to go back, especially since he couldn’t even face to say sorry to his own Capo.

He had failed. He had made an absolute fool of himself and he had failed. The dried blood encrusted, busted shard of the lamp post that hung above him served as a testament to how badly he had failed his mission.

He wanted to cry. But nothing would come forth. He was completely alone to do whatever he wanted to do. No one would hear him scream, or shout, or do anything anymore. He tucked his head into his kneecaps, feeling hollow and alone.

Or, at least he thought he was, until he felt familiar fingers brush through his hair. Two years.

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"Hey, Ghia." Melone let his head tip to rest on the other's shoulder, his knees drawn up to his chest. It's late, and there's something soft & terrified in his voice to match the almost faraway look he had in his eyes. "Where do you think we'd be if we weren't here with the others?"

Ghiaccio was caught off guard by the question; his gaze softening considerably as he mulled it over. What a depressing, terrifying thought. That perhaps something like this could have been destroyed in the slightest change of actions. 

Even if this wasn’t an entirely good way to make ends meet and despite it’s moral drawbacks, Ghiaccio had no regrets of entering this profession due to the changes from his previous living situation.

Above the life he used to live, curled up against brick corner store back walls and scouring for anything that would let him survive the night, or even the week, and keep himself together. Finding available spaces at bustling shelters he would frequent with his family when he could, but always leaving for someone he honestly believed deserved far better than he did to take his place and get the rest they needed.

If not for Sorbet and Gelato, the Ghiaccio with no home, food or education would have met his end, White Album or not, unnoticed in the streets he wandered. He would have never met his family, he would have never been able to read the books he did. 

Had he never went after Sorbet or Gelato, or had even rejected their proposal…He would have never had the pleasure that something as simple as this brought him; being close to someone he loved, like Melone, after a nice meal, curled up in a warm bed.

Coming back down from such a negative scenario playing out so clearly in his mind, Ghiaccio felt disturbed and shook his head as he tried to ground himself. He lied, setting down his current page-turner and resting his head gently atop his partner’s, snaking an arm around his waist to keep him close. Melone had thought of it too, hadn’t he? He would not have asked if he hadn’t.

“Such a time and place never exists.We’re here. No need to get hung up over what could have been.”