#chigliastorto

[roleplayerxshoutouts]

“Shoutout to @emilyxlightman / @bccephus / @chigliastorto / @killedxclyde / @wucrnos (hope, I didn't forget anything). She's amazing. All her muses, OC's and canon are brilliantly written. It's a great pleasure to rp with her, but also to interact with her ooc, because she's one of the sweetest people, I know here, and one of my best friends.”

[cvptaingiordano]

chigliastorto replied to your post:totally just realized that it’s been over a year...

*pets u* its been 4 years since i saw fob so i feel

fall out boy *-* i was so close to actually seeing them live last year but i couldn't go :/

[thesamevicvega-archive]

Casa de La Rosa

@chigliastorto

          The offer of Cosimo La Rosa reminded him about that time of his childhood when one of his uncles deliberately called him Vittorio in attempts to prove that their family had an Italian blood and something to do with the real mafia. It might seem romantic, but Vic hated every sound of his ‘Roman’ name. He sincerely hoped that no one in New York would call him Vittorio. Or Victor. He didn’t want to shoot the wrong guy and fuck up the gainful job.               The guy who found him in L.A. was of course just a negotiator, but he managed to be very convincing. Sums of money (advance payment, Vic got right after he agreed to do the job, and the sum he should get, when everything would be done) were impressive enough to make him forget for some time about his loathing of flying and of leaving California in general. Thirty-six hours later he was sitting in the leather chair (which must cost as much as his car or more) in some kind of lobby, dressed in the dark blue suit, waiting for the meeting with Mr. La Rosa himself and dying for a smoke. His foot in the black cowboy boot began to twitch nervously, while he studied the matching pattern of the wallpapers and the carpet. In the moment when he almost gave up and reached to pull out the pack of Red Apple the door to the hallway opened and closed with the soft thud. Vic turned his head that way and saw a girl, young and petite, with dark hair and dark eyes. Being a guest he left the right to say something to her, if she so desired, and just stared at her. Well, maybe it wasn't polite, but all this waiting bored him too much to focus on every etiquette rule.

[procurare-blog]

           ❛ this neighborhood is what nightmares are made of. too perfect with far too many women popping out babies simply because they were told to. there’s not a single blade of grass out of place and everyone is far too friendly. it’s not right. ❜ 

         she misses her old life, traveling, conning, wrapping people around her fingers only to choke them with the strings. this was so fucking dull.

                         ( @chigliastorto┊verse. the third ordinance┊liked  )