#will block any more hate messages yessir <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[storfulsten]

Good riddance! We don't want you here anymore, because we are over fnf fandoms and all of this fucking shit. Pathetic as always.

huh? good riddance what? did I miss something lol

[chimielie]

hii 1- 44 for your ask game pwease

fine. im gonna do it.

under readmore to respect people’s dashes HAHAHAHAH. bear warning that there’s like 2 things that could be considered nsfw (but not rlly i don’t think) and like 3 questions abt substance usage!!

1 age: 20

2. shoe size: us 5.5, which is an eu 36 i think?

3. do you smoke? cigarettes very rarely and only socially

4: do you drink? yessir

5: do you take drugs? nope

6: age you get mistaken for: like 23? it's usually not far off but always older

7. have tattoos? no

8: want any tattoos? yes i think so! but that's for a later date when i have the funds

9: got any piercings? yep! the usual ones in my earlobes and i also have my nipples pierced :)

10: want any piercings? i'd like to get my doubles done, but i'm pretty happy with what i have now

11: best friend? my irl bestie: i've known her since we were 7? she's basically family. on here it's definitely my beloved mika

12: relationship status: down bad for my boyfriend (11 months next week!)

13: biggest turn ons: glasses, light biting, nice arms and back, athletic trainer, 27, iwaizumi hajime,

14: biggest turn offs: answered here

15: favorite movie: crazy rich asians (the wedding scene...)

16: i’ll love you if… you understand me?? i feel like all the people i've loved the most felt like they really could see me which is a pretty general answer but i love so many people so much

17: someone you miss: my little sister :(

18: most traumatic experience: i don't want to answer this seriously but sometimes i remember that iwaizumi isn't real and that's very upsetting 😞

19: a fact about your personality: i'm so eepy rn

20: what i hate most about myself: not applicable i don’t want to do that to my brain!!!

21: what i love most about myself: good with words :)

22: what i want to be when I get older: an accountant!!

23: my relationship with my sibling(s): my little sister is one of my best friends she's incredible i'm so proud of her

24: my relationship with my parent(s): i’m an eldest daughter soooooo

25: my idea of a perfect date: answered here

26: my biggest pet peeves: answered here

27: a description of the girl/boy i like: answered here

28: a description of the person i dislike the most: my best friend's ex-boyfriend 👎

29: a reason i’ve lied to a friend: said i was gonna go do homework and then took a nap

30: what i hate the most about work/school: it stresses my boyfriend out and cuts into my naptime

31: what my last text message says: “tell her you don’t have any more storage on your phone” to my roommate bc her mom wants her to download life360 LOL

32: what words upset me the most: probably not the Most but i think really cynical statements like “love isn’t real” or “healing is impossible” or stuff like that make me not want to talk to someone so much bc those are like. fundamental parts of my thinking yk? ofc jokes don’t bother me

33: what words make me feel the best about myself: “you do everything right all the time” HAHAHAHA

34: what i find attractive in women: glasses

35: what i find attractive in men: glasses

36: where i would like to live: i’ve always wanted to live in san diego… someday 🤞 i also daydream about ireland a lot

37: one of my insecurities: perpetually terrified of seeming mean by accident

38: my childhood career choice: estate planning lawyer 😭

39: my favorite ice cream flavor: honeycomb!!

40: who i wish i could be: someone who always has a lot of friends visiting :) and hosts a lot of dinner parties

41: where i want to be right now: san diego

42: the last thing i ate: i am currently right in the middle of eating prosciutto on toast with roasted red pepper tomato soup!!!

43: sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately: answered this earlier but it bears repeating: iwaizumi hajime i need u

44: a random fact about anything: answered here but here’s an extra: i have a little marcel the shell figurine on my desk and i pick him up and talk to him whenever i have writer’s block and it’s really helped boost my productivity hahahahahah

[crackerjackawrites]

Walking Inferno (2600 Words)

A hired killer is in for a horrific surprise after his most recent hit. (originally written February 2021)

Don Giuliani - or just Don, as he liked to be known by his employees - sat in the large, leather bound chair at his desk. Papers were spread out across the table and a cigar sat in the nearby ashtray, still leaking smoke into the room. It was like a damn hotbox in there, and somebody needed to open a window (it wouldn’t be Don, he had people for that). Opposite Don sat Payton Gonzalez, a broad-chested bull of a man. His brown hair was beginning to recede, but it gave him a wise look, made up for what was going on up there in his head. Nothing, by Don’s estimate.

“So,” said Payton, his voice strong and confident, “What’s the next hit?”

“I’ve got the papers here,” replied Don, and he began to rummage through the papers on his desk. “Somewhere here.”  

Eventually, Don pulled out an envelope from beneath a spread of important documents, “Here,” he muttered, and passed it over to Payton. Payton opened the file, it had a name in large letters at the top of the page,

“You’re kidding,” said Payton, “John Smith?”

“It’s great, huh? Like he’s some sorta fuckin’ character!”

Payton smirked, and carried on reading. Below the name was Mr. Smith’s date of birth, April second, 1968; his place of work, Reeves and Bromley Ltd.; and his address, Rotterdam Apartments, 247th Street, Manhattan. Also in the envelope was a picture of John, he had blonde hair and his chin was dotted with stubble, he had light blue eyes and thick eyebrows above them. The image showed him walking into work wearing a bomber jacket and dark jeans.

Payton dropped the papers onto his lap, “So what’s this guy’s deal?”

“It’s not him we have the problem with, it’s his daughter. She’s suspended her deal with us, so we’re gonna teach her a lesson. Hopefully she learns something here, or we’re gonna have to go after her other papa too.”

“How do you want me to go about it?” asked Payton.

“Car bomb,” said Don, “that should get the message across.”

“Of course, sir.”

Payton stood on the street opposite John’s car, two blocks away from Reeves and Bromley. It was coming up to 6pm, so John would be leaving work any second now and heading for his car. The bomb was planted. All Payton needed was for John to turn the keys and boom, he’d get the paycheck.

John strolled around the corner, he wore the same jacket that he had on in the image from his file. He looked like he was in a rush to get home. Good. John unlocked his car, got into the seat, fiddled with his keys for a second, pushed it into the- Boom! Payton had forgotten how quickly those things go off. People started screaming all around him. Payton joined in the panic, he knew how suspicious it would look if he didn’t. He always wished he could walk away with the swagger of an action hero from the movies, but his job never let him, so he had to make do with shouting and running away. One of the worst compromises in his life, he thought. Either way, this was another successful hit, some extra cash in his pocket.

Don Guiliani’s place looked abandoned, Payton guessed that was on purpose. The dark green paint on the door was peeling, revealing the rusted metal beneath it, and the windows were boarded up with rotting wooden planks. The bricks looked like they hadn’t been washed in years. Payton knocked on the door and the rusting peephole scraped open.

“Passwo-”

“Cinnamon Roll,” said Payton, he was sure Don got a kick out of making him say that every time he came in.

“Alright, man!” moaned the voice from the door, “Why’re you in such a fuckin’ rush?.”

The door opened, and Payton walked through, shoving the doorman with his shoulder. The building looked just as run down on the inside as it did the outside, Don really needed a designer. Payton made his way through the corridor, straight towards Don’s office. He knocked, 1-2-3, pause, 1-2, the second code that Don had given him, after “cinnamon roll”.

“Come in, boy,” called Don from within the room, Payton opened the door, “How did it go?”

“Fine,” said Payton, “You got the cash?”

“Of course,” Don reached down below his desk and pulled out a briefcase, he clicked open the locks to reveal wads of notes laying within, “There we are. Exactly what I promised it’d be.” Don locked the briefcase again.

“Thanks,” grunted Payton, and he grabbed the case. He got up, walked straight out the building, and continued all the way to his apartment. He’d count it up when he got back.

That night, Payton dreamed. He dreamed of fire, of his skin boiling until it melted from his bones. Molten metal piercing his charred flesh, burning his insides. He screamed until his throat either dried up or turned to ash, he couldn’t tell which came first. He dreamed of a man, a man who hated him. He cried for revenge. He cried to take Payton’s life.

Payton shot up from his bed. It was dark out still. He never had nightmares. Who was that figure? The devil? Payton wasn’t a particularly religious man. Was it John? Payton had never had that type of reaction after a hit before, so he doubted it. John wasn’t special in any way. Not to Payton at least. He checked the time on his phone: five forty-three. He had to get up at seven, no point in trying to sleep again now.

A few hours later, Payton stood at the entrance of Solar Mechanics, his other place of work. Much like Don’s, Solar was a pretty run-down building with tattered brick work and creaky garage doors, this one at least looked lived in from the outside, though. This definitely wasn’t the first time Payton had gone to work the day after a hit, but something felt off today. It was probably the dream. Payton tentatively stepped through the garage door, keeping his guard up more than usual. Payton locked eyes with his manager, George, from his small office space across the service area. George got up and waved at Payton.

“Hey, Payton!” he called from across the room, “I need you for something, asap.” He said asap like a word, not an acronym.

“Yes?” snapped Payton.

“Woah there, tiger.” He chuckled, “I just need you to do a service drive with one of the beasts over here.” George walked over to what he called “the beasts”, the section on the service floor reserved for the most powerful cars in stock. Payton followed.

“A Bugatti?”

“A damn powerful one too,” George chuckled again, “released this year.”

“Damn.” Payton muttered.

“Uh-huh.”

“And you just want me to take it out?”

“Yep. I’ll get you the key now. I only need you out there for like 30 minutes. No biggy.”

“Yessir.”

George returned with the key and bowled it to Payton. Who snatched it out of the air with ease. Payton stuck the key into the ignition and turned, causing the engine to ignite with power.

“Oh, baby!” called Payton over the light, satisfying rumble of the engine, “It's hot!”

“Enjoy!” said George, smirking. He slapped the back of the car like it was a racehorse and Payton drove out of the front of the garage smoothly. Payton drove aimlessly for a while, but came to his consciousness when he realised where he’d driven.

The sign of Reeves and Bromley Ltd. loomed over him and, for a while, Payton just stared up at it in awe. Shit, why did he come back? He didn’t mean to. Was it fate? Payton slowly drove away from the sign and around the corner, the same corner where the bomb had been planted. It was like he was on autopilot. Payton drove up the street, straining against all his willpower not to look at the space where the car had sat. But he gave in. There was still a large, black scorch mark on the road. The body of the car had been towed away but still little pieces of metal lay across the road like soldiers in a war they’d already lost. Payton could hear a crackling, like fire. He whipped his head around… But saw nothing. He turned back, to face an inferno across the street. The spiral of fire lashed out in all directions, it roared at Payton. People started screaming all around him, running from the flame. But Payton was frozen in fear. He squinted into the fire. It looked like there was someone in there. There was someone in there! A dark humanoid figure stood, wreathed in the blaze. It began to walk toward Payton.

“Shit, shit, shit!” he cried, scrambling at the door handle. He finally grasped hold of it and yanked, nearly pulling it clean off. He pushed open the door and practically fell out the door, only to find himself face to face with the raging blaze. The figure inside lifted their finger and pointed at Payton. It spoke with a strained voice,

“You…”

Payton started to back away, “Who- Who are you?”

“You… know... me.” And Payton did. He didn’t know how, but he now recognised the figure as John Smith. John’s corpse continued, “Why… did… you… kill me?”

“It was what I was told to do!” Payton panted, “If you wanna take it up with anyone, make it Don - Don Giuliani. Please!”

The fire surrounding John weakened, and he stepped forward, revealing his charred flesh and ashen bones. His voice became less strained, it still had a low growl to it “Does that justify it for you? That someone else asked you to kill me?”

“No,” Payton nearly tripped on a pothole, “Of course n-”

John erupted into flames and screamed, “Then why did you do it?” John began to extinguish again, “What did I even do?” John was now practically just a black skeleton, some small embers flickered beneath his remaining flesh.

“It wasn’t you,” muttered Payton, “It was your daughter.” Payton suddenly realised that the two of them were standing in the middle of an empty street, everyone else fled when John had appeared.

“Laura?” the small embers across John’s body started to multiply, “She was in the mafia?”

“Until recently,” Payton was starting to calm down now, the site of a burning corpse standing before him almost felt normal, “She stopped her deals, Don wanted to get back at her.”

John’s blaze roared up again. Payton could feel the heat, even from this distance, “So you killed me?”

“Like I said,” this scene felt entirely natural to Payton now, “it wasn’t my choice-”

“Every time you kill someone it’s a choice, and I know this wasn’t your first time.”

“Please, you should take this out on Don. I’ve got a kid at home! You know what that’s like.”

John tutted, Payton wasn’t sure how, “I know that’s a lie, Payton. I was in your apartment last night. I saw you... alone.”

“Shit,” Payton muttered. Before he could say anything else, John started walking towards him. All the familiarity Payton had felt was melting away, and he stared directly at the molten cadaver of the man he had murdered the evening before. Nearly all his flesh had melted away now, small scraps of skin were still smouldering on his skull and his tendons were beginning to break under the heat; leaving him to stagger forward with an uncanny speed.

Payton backed up into an alley, he was too far in when he realised the mistake. The two tall buildings on either side cast dark shadows into the alley, the shadows only broken by the roaring fires that were spilling out of John and towards Payton. He was trapped. Unless? Payton spun around to face the wall at the end of the alley, it looked just about climbable. He took a step back, hearing the crackling flames behind him, and ran at the wall. He leaped and caught the top of the bricks with his fingertips.

His muscles straining, Payton slowly pulled himself up the wall. But then, a searing pain caught his left thigh. Payton turned, and found John’s arms clasped onto his leg, the torrid heat was branding his thigh. John yanked Payton down with ease and threw him into the row of trash cans that lined the alley. John scrambled to his feet. As he was getting up, Payton noticed his left pant leg had a large hole burned into it where John had grabbed him. The burn went all the way through to his flesh, where it was bright red and scabbing.

“Don’t worry,” said John, his voice becoming more strained and alien as the fire surrounding him grew, “I’ll find Don after we’re done here. At least you’ll have the pleasure of knowing you weren’t the only one to die.”

Payton backed up against one of the walls, “Please! John, please. You don’t have to do this.”

“Oh but I do. If I kill you then I’ll be free of this life. Free of this torture!”

John took a step closer to Payton. Payton took a step back. John took a step closer to Payton, but Payton was up against the wall now. John took another step and Payton could feel the heat singeing the hairs on his arms. John moved his arm back and thrust it into Payton’s chest. Payton looked down, John had burnt a clean hole straight where his heart was. John yanked his arm back out and Payton sputtered, boiling blood pouring out of his mouth. Payton looked up, his vision blurred, and could just make out John holding his heart in one hand. John slowly tightened his grip around the heart until it popped, spraying blood over Payton’s face. Payton’s vision slowly dimmed, with John’s chuckle the only thing left to keep him company.

Don Giuliani sat in the large, leather-bound chair at his desk. He had finally decided to sort out the clusters of papers that had lay strewn across it every day for too long to remember. He was finding all the old hit profiles that had been given back to him from the agents, he really should’ve shredded those as he got them. It was lucky that he hadn’t been caught. A cop could easily bust down the door and execute him on the spot with all this evidence. He was putting the final file into the bag when he heard a shout from the hallway.

“Holy shit! He’s burnin’ the fuckin’ door down!” It was Oz, the doorman.

“What?” called Don, storming into the hallway. He looked at the large, metal door and, sure enough, the rusted steel was melting right before his eyes. “Holy shit.”

Oz shoved past him, his face a portrait of terror. Don looked back at the door, something was stopping his instinct to flee. The door began to glow orange with heat, then yellow, then white. Something punched through the door, sending globs of molten metal over the floor, it looked like a black, skeletal hand. A leg kicked a hole through the door afterwards. Then an entire charcoal skeleton stepped through, it was wreathed in flames. It looked straight at Don.

“Hello, Don.”

“J-John?”