spiicegrl

[spiicegrl]

inevitableshott‌:

      The clasp of the door shutting behind him might as well be the sound of his fate being sealed. It was in the air trickling up his sleeves, down his spine, to the heels of his boots as he stood opposite side of the room. Nailed in place as the young woman graced her presence across from him. If this had been any other person at any other place Mista might have considered her kinda cute.

    Everyone is Passione knew who she was. Didn’t know jack shit about who was actually top dog but knew about his precious daughter who damn near is gonna inherit the throne. Anyone else would look at the cotton-candy swill of pink hair and would underestimate her true power. One snap of her fingers would send Guido Mista into an early grave or worse, have his actions trickle-down to those he gave a damn about.

      Buccellati got the message to him very clear. This wasn’t a choice, this was an order. One could win good money betting Mista didn’t come without throwing a fit at his leader. An argument that was truly one-sided and ending in both gentlemen somberly sitting for what felt like an eternity. Hell, he wishes that was the case. If it was he’d be still sitting across from his leader pointlessly spending time trying to figure out a way around instead of refusing to move to the seat currently waiting for him.

      “I’ll stand.” firm, stern, and the only act of rebellion he could muster. Even still his knees buckled, catching himself as sweat rolled down his neck. “You know my name what else is there to know? My favorite movie?” teeth clenched down on his cheek feeling the twist coiling tighter in his chest. It’s taking a lot of self-restraint to not just tell her kindly to fuck right off. He knew why he was here and each passing second only stewed up his nerves. 

      His gaze hardens the longer he kept contact with emerald hues. “…I really don’t get a say in this, huh?”

Trish takes note of his pitiful rebellion, a pink brow raising thinly -- something that would’ve gotten lesser men cut down on the spot had they the guts to try and defy her in meaningless ways. Fortunately for Mista, he wasn’t a lesser man, not in her eyes or the eyes of her grand scheme. Everyone had a place, their part to play.

A machine was much like a family, and it couldn’t work without every member knowing their role or working accordingly. It was far better to have him sweet than sour, so she didn’t raise up a fuss about his little act of defiance, dismissing it with a high pitched hum in the back of her throat.

“ Darling, please, you look like I’m going to send you to your execution. Loosen up a little. ” That, on the other had, didn’t sound like a suggestion, the soft timbre of her voice laced with a knife’s edge honed only by years of the sort of company she had to keep. Her father’s men were not kind, they were not merciful, and as such she knew nothing else and would try to surpass them still.

As it seemed he was more interested in getting down to business than mindless small talk ( something Trish appreciated, ever the pioneer ) she folded her hands neatly on her lap, holding a smile that teetered the line between cold cruelty and serene grace.

“ You can speak your mind if you wish, though it may rob you of your tongue. ” She laughs daintily like it was a quaint joke to be thrown in a social gathering, mouth politely covered with the back of her hand even if the unfeeling look in her eyes never wavered.

“  -- But no, you cannot sway this decision. Frankly, every one of your team should be under scrutiny given Polpo was your direct superior. Your squad literally dealt with guarding people, if I’m not mistaken, and not even Bruno seems to be aware of what happened on the night of his death. ”

Trish paused for a moment, then narrowed her eyes. “ If anything, you should be thanking me for quietly reassigning you instead of interrogating you. ”

Basic manipulation at it’s finest, of course. There was no need to interrogate anyone, not when she had her hands on Abbacchio ( more importantly, his Stand ) and waited to see if Mista was as smart as he looked.

[spiicegrl]

Victoria Beckham

[spiicegrl]

myentropy‌:

“your pajamas?” and fugo recalled the soft touch of her robe during their hug and his hands recoiled beside him. losing himself in considering just how early was it? there was self concsious glance down at his watch as he checked the time. 

“to be fair to you i don’t really know much about obtaining friends..” fugo hadn’t the practice nor the experience in any sort of relationship developing skill. he had friends; he could admit that rather confidently but he didn’t think he’d give sheila or cannolo a passing glance if they weren’t first thrown together by community. 

fugo eased himself back into the couch at trish’s suggestion. hands folding together in his lap unsure of where to place them at first. he knew a terrible number of cafe’s, and he was fine with picking the place, paying even. it felt like the least he could do. “wait, before you go tell me…what do you like? that way I can pick a more suitable cafe for your birthday.”

“That much was obvious.” She muttered quietly under her breath, though kept her tone light should he overhear it, only jesting. There was still some part of her that didn’t expect much from gangsters. They had both been her protectors and those that had wished her fatal harm -- and frankly, that didn’t make her all too keen to see them in a good light, no matter how much she appreciated her former guard squad.

“I like seafood. Crab, specifically.” Trish told, a thin, manicured digit rising to tap the peachy swell of her bottom lip in thought. “ -- But you know, you can’t go wrong with a classic pizza, either. It’s so greasy and messy but delicious. Or.. oh, since it’s my birthday, why don’t you pick a place that has highly recommended desserts? I’m going to treat myself.”

With that said, Trish padded off to disappear into her bedroom, shutting the door with a click. As numerous amount of shuffling began to occur, her voice rose above the din to shoot the question back at him. “ -- What about you, Fugo? What do you enjoy?”

In record time for Trish (which was a good half an hour later) she emerged from the bedroom looking fresh, ready and awake. Even still she wasn’t done, comb teasing the fluffy pink curls as she tried to tame it, to no success. She eventually decided just to leave it as it was -- haphazard, but stylish. Her clothes were brand names, of course, but a simple outfit of a tube top and jeans.

“I’m ready. Have you decided where we should go?” 

[spiicegrl]

i finished this drawing from month ago, finally  Great bizarre girl Trish !

[spiicegrl]

musaesidereum‌:

Diavolo’s smile was slow, but it surely crept across his face. “My good, intelligent daughter,” Diavolo praised, reaching out to cradle Trish’s face, thumb swiping affectionately across her cheek beneath her eye. “So insightful already at your age…

“Yes; you are correct. Passione, my Passione is influential beyond your imagination,” he praised. Though he leaned in, his eyes were distant, fixed upon a spot beyond his daughter, fixed upon a distant future that seemingly only he could see. “The famiglia deals in everything. Gambling… politics… housing… smuggling… loans and laundering; medicine and drugs…

“All of this is mine, my daughter. And it is only growing.”

The muscle in her jaw tensed again when he was back being affectionate, but this and his neutral mood was far, far better than anger or disappointment. So she swallowed down her discomfort and tried for a shaky, thankful smile at his praise. It was something she enjoyed receiving; the sheer simplicity of making her father proud was not lost to her.

“That’s incredible..” she whispered, in awe at just how wide and varied Passione was. Even just the brief list Diavolo gave, she couldn’t help but think there was still more to it. “It seems so many different things you need to keep track of, and so wide and varied too..”

Not wanting to sound like it was too daunting of a task for her, Trish added; “-- I’ll do my best to learn everything you have to teach me, father. I will make you proud to see me as your daughter. I have to ask .. is Passione the only famiglia? I mean -- do we have rivals?”

[spiicegrl]

musaesidereum‌:

Risotto glanced back at the girl when she suddenly burst out in exclamation, finding himself amused despite himself at her instinctive fire. There had certainly been hostages before who hadn’t dared to speak a word to Risotto. Then again, this girl knew that Risotto certainly wouldn’t harm her–unless she were somehow able to harm him first. She had some form of assurance that she was necessary.

“Walk faster.” He suggested lightly, though it came out far more sternly than intended. A side-effect of being so stoic, perhaps. “We don’t have much time.”

No doubt by now, Illuso had joined them in the mirror world, and was watching them closely. If only to ridicule Risotto later for indulging the girl.

If anything, Trish only had herself to blame for her lack of exercise, making what should have been a swifter walk into a strain on her muscles. It wasn’t that she was unfit -- she just simply never exerted them as much as she should have, and now she was regretting that thoroughly.

Sure, if she needed to run away from the assassins, she probably would be powered by adrenaline alone, but after feeling Risotto’s weird.. power, his Stand -- whose to say what the others were like?

Speaking of, when Trish looked back, the pig-tailed guy wasn’t there anymore. She blinked.

“Hey.. wasn’t he supposed to come with us..?” she questioned quietly, more to herself than anything. Through sheer determination, she was having a better time being reasonably in-step with Risotto, even if her legs protested. “Where did he go..?”

[spiicegrl]

imperaptorr‌:

                    Diego could be a deceiver, someone that lied in your face without any trace of remorse in his expression. he was an opportunist—someone that took the first chance he could get at progressing, regardless of what was the price. many things could be said about the British jockey, but being a man of his word, wasn’t among the ones the public considered. as easy as it could’ve been to recover the shipment and make profit out of it, in a matter of days, the phone at the hotel he was staying at was pressed against his ear. left foot tapped against the carpeted floor  and the sound of her voice never granted him as much satisfaction as it did at that moment. finally, it was time to get this over with.

            “——i’m fine, thank you.” he responded with a sarcastic tone in his voice, switching his weight from one foot to another ; not nearly as preoccupied as she was. there was simply no reason to.  “——i got your shipment, well… part of it. guess they broke the rule of not consuming your own product.  it’s barely anything compared to the whole thing.”

                      cyan hues shifted away from the portrays near the telephone to glance over where the merchandise was, hidden from any staff member although it wasn’t easy. she wasn’t exaggerating about the amount that it was lost at the hands of her own mercenaries. luckily for her, Diego had his ways to get around using his fans as a decoy.

           “——anyway, i got rid of the people responsible for this. shouldn’t take long for the police to find their heads. maybe you will see it in the news.” the way that he made mention of that detail showed how nonchalant he was on the matter.  he even sounded… bored.   “——but yeah, you can pick it up any time. i’m not planning in going anywhere today.”

“Part of it? Of course..” The sheer exasperation in her tone could likely convey the pinch to the bridge of her nose that she made just then. She muttered something lowly, something that wouldn’t be picked up on the phone, but it was easy to tell that she was not impressed by whomever had gotten a hold of the merchandise and the people that lost it in the first place.

“ -- I am lucky that for all the incompetent men my father believes are worth associating with within Passione, you are swiftly becoming my greatest ally.” Asset, is what she would have called him had they not started business the way they are. Trish’s voice softened somewhat, true genuine appreciation seeping into her tone. “Thank you, Dio. If anything, I think I should apologise for ever doubting your skill in the first place.”

An airy chuckle left her at his method of execution -- quite literally. Some part of her wished she could’ve seen it, if only to gloat to them the power of Passione and herself. But it was a strong enough message even without her or her gang’s overt presence. 

“Perhaps. Just for you, I will look out for the report. I’ll be arriving to pick up the shipment as soon as possible.” With a click, she ended the phone call.

True to her word, Trish left that moment to the hotel that Diego was staying at. Once more without guards, she was becoming comfortable with him in a way that even she begrudgingly admitted was dangerous. What started out as an intention to play him for her own gain was steadily turning into something else -- his skill was desirous for her plans, making her more than happy to accommodate him more.

She knocked onto the door to his room, voice quiet and low. “ -- It’s Trish.”

[spiicegrl]

[spiicegrl]

musaesidereum‌:

Rohan’s smirk hardly slipped. His eyes were more than sharp enough to catch the surprise upon the girl’s face at having been proven utterly wrong: yet again, Kishibe Rohan was utterly correct in his deductions! He let out a harrumph, though rather than irritated, he sounded far too smug and satisfied.

The girl’s insults that his choices were basic were only an insult to her own tastes. That something so basic would suit her obviously meant that she were basic herself!

“Choose accessories?” He questioned, tilting his head up in false innocence. “I don’t do charity work more than once.” Implying that the girl was in need of dire help.

“Charity work!?” she shrieked. If there was anything past the utter indignant chagrin that she felt, then Trish was that. She had half a mind to stand up on the stool and slap him across the face for his comments! Maybe.. maybe even soften the ground he walked on, so the next step he took would send him flying!

Yes, she was petty enough to use a Stand against a .. civilian. There was no way someone so arrogant and full of themselves would have a Stand, would there?

So, with a grin that seemed to come out of nowhere, Spice Girl materialised behind her and crouched at her feet, reaching to touch the shop floor, intending to soften it, as Trish spoke.

“I never asked for your help to begin with and nor do I need it! Do you just intrude on every girl’s shopping trip just to be a huge creep? Piss off!” 

[spiicegrl]

schismania‌:

     Moments in which they could be together like this, reminded him of simpler times when they didn’t carry the weight of Diavolo’s legacy on their shoulders. How precious were those memories to him, thinking back on the many times he carried Trish just this way—swearing to protect her until the day he died.

     Anasui found comfort in the embrace, nuzzling his nose against her neck and smiling to himself when she mentioned the name of her perfume. It wasn’t that what he meant, but the natural scent that she carried was one he found beyond soothing. A familiar smell that made him feel at home, with the one he adored the most.

       The embrace didn’t last as long as he would’ve liked, dreaming of the times they used to share a bed and cuddle when they were growing up. If only they could back to those times—free from the pressure of becoming the next heir. Anasui was reluctant in letting her go, but did it anyway. Whatever she asked for, he’d do.

    “——I trust you… and I won’t get involved unless you ask me to.” He murmured, before taking hold of her hand as the two walked towards the car, where he opened the door for her to enter first. A small smile accompanying the downward quirk of his brows.

Trish returned that smile a little -- and a small squeeze to his hand, letting go to slide in the back seat of the car, naturally taking the window seat. Once Anasui had settled in and buckled up, she tapped the separating window between them and the driver to go forth, gathering her thoughts about the meeting ahead in her mind.

It should be a simple exchange; though Trish knew all too well how easily that could turn to shit, especially when she held a decision to make. If she found them unfavouable, and denied them support, well.. she was glad she’d have her twin brother backing her up. With him at her side, no harm would ever come to her. A comfortable situation she could get used to.

When the vehicle rolled to a stop, Trish gathered up her fur coat and stepped out of the car, waiting until Anasui was by her side before walking ahead, seeing the men she was supposed to meet lingering outside of the safe house.

“Gentlemen..” she greeted, as customary, she held out her hand for it to be grasped and their respects paid to one of the rings on her finger. She’d disinfect her hand at a later date, holding a thin, dagger-like smile to her face. “My brother will be joining us for this meeting, but rest assured anything you were going to say to me, you can say to him too. He’s just going to be an observer.. isn’t that right, Anasui?”

[spiicegrl]

⭐️ abba is here to help her dye the spots out

hair. // accepting selectively

“Everything is terrible. The world is ending. My career is over. I just spent like 400 dollars on hair dyes and none of them turned out to be the exact shade of pink I needed to get rid of the spots entirely. I’m going to end up bald, Leone. Bald.”

At the very least, Trish was taking ‘defeatist’ humour to deal with how distressing seeing those fucking spots in her hair was. Every time she saw one black dot in the sea of pink, her thoughts were thrown entirely to that horrible, truly evil man. She had to suppress the urge to nurse her once-cut wrist, or her neck and stomach.

She heard an indiscriminate ‘mmhmm, bald,’ from behind her, no doubt the huff of breath released to conceal a snicker at her apocalyptic prophecy of the end of days (and hair.) She swivelled around on the chair to face him mixing the developer and dye, seeing his own mane neatly pinned back to avoid getting any of it on his own.

“Laugh all you want,” she warned. “But if I end up having to go bald, you will have to as well in solidarity. That’s right, I’m dragging you into this, Abba. There’s no escape.”

Trish pauses, then whispers more menacingly: “No escape.”

She didn’t protest when he neatly swivelled her to face the mirror again, trying for an overly miserable look as he parted and sectioned her black-spotted hair. At least she could relish in the fact Abbacchio knew what he was doing, and it was always nice to spend time with him.

[spiicegrl]

send in ⭐ to touch my muse’s hair.

bonus if you add narrative, reason, scenarios, details, etc to give the receiver something more to work off of. ( can be anything from a hair ruffle, to fixing hairs that are out of place, to stroking their hair to comfort them, and anything in between. )

[spiicegrl]

Although Polpo was better alive than he was dead, Trish couldn’t help but think it allowed much more freedom of control over aspects of the gang that her father would be too busy mending the aftermath of his murder to notice.

There was one particular asset that she had made good use of. Leone Abbacchio’s Moody Blues could quite possibly be the downfall that anyone looking to dethrone her father needed -- and whilst that was a goal Trish was working towards herself, if they had ill intentions against Diavolo, no doubt they wouldn’t prune the family tree by beheading the top of it. The offspring would be similarly uprooted.

But, Leone was part of a squad, Bruno’s, to be exact. Taking him away from there would cause unnecessary descent. She didn’t want to draw attention to them, or her father’s eye, for that matter. So, she simply disbanded the squad, reassigned them.

Mista’s reassignment to Squadra Esecuzioni made sense; given what she had read about his Stand. A gunslinger made a perfect fit for hitmen and assassins. 

“Guido Mista.. is it?” Trish addressed once she had finally made her presence known. The room she had invited him to (under pressure that missing the ‘meeting’ was.. ill-advised at best) was fairly basic considering the safe house location. Furnished and neat, but hardly the lavish luxury she had enjoyed in the various villas within her father’s possession.

“Go on, sit. You’re not in any trouble. You’d know if you were.” A wry smile sits on her lips at that. “ -- Why don’t you start with telling me about yourself? That’s always an icebreaker, I find.”

@inevitableshott

[spiicegrl]

xgodlike‌:

ゴ   ゴ ゴ  ゴ  ゴ  ゴ 

       A BOLD STATEMENT TO MAKE and while he partially agreed with said critics, wasn’t that the purpose of the genre? To be enjoyed by the masses, even if its message can be shallow at times. There were plenty of artists that had emerged throughout the last century that inspired DIO into believing in what an artist is capable of doing. Just like a painter or a sculptor, a musician was able to pour the essence of their souls in their music and share it abroad all across the world. If one could feel the emotions that the artist was trying to convey in their piece, it would be considered a success.

    “——At least you have of an outlet that will positively impact you.” He merely commented, crossing a leg over the other and placing both of his hands to rest on his knee. The desire for some wine becoming strong as his gaze wandered away from his company to observe other customers, already enjoying their meal between chit-chat.   

           The invitation however, brought him back to his companion. Golden eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief hidden behind the smile that he offered, A soft hum leaving him, as if the suggestion required of some deep thought.  “——Mmm, I don’t know. Aren’t I too old for such thing?” He was, of course, teasing her about it.

“Giorno agrees with you there..” Mainly because it pushed Trish as far away from Passione as possible. Not that he encouraged her to indulge in the spotlight, but it kept her away from danger, it was something she had always wanted to do -- her dream, so to speak -- and well, she’d caught him enjoying her songs even before they got involved.

A nervous laugh escapes the poor girl, taking his teasing on the chin and finding the interruption of the waiter arriving with their wine a welcome distraction. Her mouth closed, neatly smiling instead and allowed the server to pour their glasses. She was all too eager to accept her glass and take a tentative sip. Whilst the strong scent wanted to make her nose crinkle, the actual taste wasn’t too bad. Maybe a little too sweet even for her liking, but one glass wouldn’t spoil the night.

“This was a great choice.” she commented in idle small talk, as if trying to avoid the backhanded compliment she’d given him prior. Eventually, Trish addressed it with a little sigh, eyes upturning a little in mirth.

“ -- Okay, I take my comment back. You’re not ‘too old’ to enjoy pop music. Don’t make me take back my offer on the recording studio! Fans would pay numbers in the six digits to get an opportunity like that and I’m giving it to you for free!”

[spiicegrl]

hiringuhato‌:

      ah, right…. there was that possibility and well, josuke wasn’t exactly sure if he’d want to be there if that were the case. just how awkward would that be? with that thought in mind, he was even beginning to wonder if it would be worth it! sure, their collection was great and all but… at least from the things he had heard about her father, the guy seemed to be pretty special.

       there’s no attempt at concealing his concern when he turns to face her with a petrified look, cheeks gaining a pink tint to them out of embarrassment. maybe he was overreacting? he really wished that would be the case.  “——yeaaah… ‘bout that, what if he doesn’t like me? even if he allows me to watch movies with you… don’t you think it would be too much if he hung around as well? i get it’s his house but…” but he didn’t want to be treated like some kind of criminal, as he usually did. sometimes, people didn’t see pass his appearance and judged him based on it.

        josuke tried not to look as if he was being defiant about it, after all… it was their house, their rules, but even she could see the problem with that, right? who would want their parent to watch over like they were five? eventually, all he could do was nod in compliance and direct his stare elsewhere. maybe it was best if he shut his mouth.

 “——maybe inviting okuyasu might not be a good idea… don’t get me wrong, i love the guy! but somethin’ tells me he won’t know how to behave… not to mention, he got a big mouth.”

That was something Trish worried about, too. Even with her female friends, her father could be overly harsh towards who she associated with. She’d told him time and time again she wasn’t some stock market or business asset he had to keep an eye on, but a person -- a teenager, no less -- that wanted to be out there and socialise.

“I’m sure he’ll like you, Josuke. You’re ...” she trails off, full lips falling close as her face heats up. A hundred complimentary things rushed to the forefront of her mind, wanting to make sure the boy knew how much she adored him. But she also didn’t want to weird or creep him out by being so.. overwhelming, either. What an awkward balance.

“.. Well, despite what a lot of people try and pin you as, I don’t think you’re a delinquent. You’ve got a heart of gold.” Trish settled on, finding that impersonal enough it didn’t sound like she was head over heels infatuated with him. “ -- I’m sure my father will see that and know you’re not going to, I don’t know..”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “Get me involved in gangs? He’s got a wild imagination sometimes -- and yeah, it would be too much if he tried to watch the film with us too. I’d give him a stern word if it he tried something like that, if my mother doesn’t already.”

When Josuke started talking about not inviting Okuyasu, she tried not to celebrate too much in her mind. She loved the guy as a friend, really, but his presence would ruin the totally perfect dream idea of hers. Trish had to fight off a smile from her face when he spoke, politely covering her beaming grin with her hand and masking it with a polite, dainty cough.

“I think you’re right about that..” she murmured, pretending to be upset about it. “ -- Oh well, there’ll be plenty of other times. Like, we can always plan to go to the cinema one day. That way Okuyasu could come too.”

[spiicegrl]

❝   ɪғ ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ,    ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs, ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡᴀʏ—ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ   ᴊᴜᴍᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴏsᴇ ᴀʀᴍs, ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ'ᴠᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴄᴏʟᴅ. ❞

ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ᴅɪᴠᴇʀɢᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴀsᴜɪ ɴᴀʀᴄɪsᴏ fʀᴏᴍ ᴊᴊʙᴀ.

ᴘʀɪᴠᴀᴛᴇ & sᴇʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ | ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ.

ᴀʀᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ: x

ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴠᴀʟ.

[spiicegrl]

birthday present for @brella!! excerpt from her sweet fic “baby, let’s go get lost” on ao3