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It had started late one night. The coughing, that is. Horrid, dry coughing that tore his throat apart each time, claws dragging his esophagus relentlessly. He shook with the fit, cringing at the horrific pain spiking through him. What was even worse, however, were the wet petals that seemed to explode from his mouth, weighed down by blood that sent them plummeting to the floor. 

At first, it was hard to tell just what kind of flower he was dealing with, reluctantly kneeling once the coughing fit subsided. The thin, bloodied petals were Chrysanthemums, no doubt about that. Sleet swallowed thickly, his lips set in a thin line as he pushed down the fear that constricted around his chest. No, he wouldn’t let himself spiral into a panic attack, not while there was a mess to clean.

It took a few moments of deep breathing before the teen could get his buzzing thoughts under control. He’d always heard about Hanahaki, always thought it was a romantic gesture of love as shown in movies, a few petals coming out with a cough and gently floating down, seemingly painless. These movies lied. Hollywood always seemed to ignore the harsh realities of those situations, the horrific pain one went through in a desperate attempt to hide their feelings, puking their feelings out with globs of blood and flower petals. There weren’t many options to choose from once you came down with the disease, either. Get surgery to remove the flowers, as well as your feelings, or confess to the person and risk ruining any sense of a friendship you may have with them. Or, you could keep it a secret from everyone until it ravaged your body and forced you to shut down, effectively killing you. All of the options were rather unappealing.

Shakily finishing up, Sleet ran a hand through his platinum blond hair. Times like these made him miss his parents, made him wish they hadn’t packed up and left while he had been in school. The silence in the house was deafening, only broken by the slight rattle in his breathing. Then the sound of a sob choked out, the teen raising his fist and biting his knuckles to stifle the noise.This can’t be happening.He slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting, head cradled in his hands as the dam broke and his tears began to cascade down his cheeks. “This can’t be real.” Hands rubbed at his eyes roughly, cringing at just how pathetic he sounded.

The sound of a phone buzzing startled him out of his breakdown, swollen yellow eyes staring at the offending device warily. Taking a few moments to aggressively rub the tears staining his face and to rub the snot off, Sleet stood and snatched the phone up. One unread message from the cause of all his problems. Swallowing thickly, he unlocked his phone and read it, ignoring the tickle of a coughing fit that wanted to come out. Softie Today, 8:15pm: hey r u still comin over tmrrw?

He really shouldn’t, not in this state. Locking his phone and shoving it in his pocket, the platinum blond began to pace in the living room. After a moment, he flung himself onto the couch, pressing his face into the cushions and letting out an exhausted yell. He continued to lay there for a few minutes, his mind racing over every possible scenario, over every little problem that could arise. Finally, he pulled his phone back out and typed up an answer.

Me Today, 8:29pm: yeah ill be there

Hiding his condition tomorrow was gonna be hell.

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(Source)

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i literally hate everything about this thanks grandayy

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Roses are red

Storm clouds are grey

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PSA: if you dont have a fursona by January 1, 2019 you WILL be assigned one

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A soft sigh escaped the lone feline, his pale fur smooth despite the scenery that surrounded him. Bodies circled him, mouths agape and twisted in horror, their muzzles stained with blood and something else. Letting out another sigh, the tom slowly stood, his long tail curling slightly at the end. His work here was almost done. 

Tilting his head up to face the sky, he parted his jaws and began to sing; a low, mournful melody that echoed in the rocky clearing. Glassy, empty eyes watched as he took a step forward, his tail sweeping low across the ruffled pelts, flicking upward to the star-filled sky. This dance continued until every corpse had been touched, until every soul had been released and sent on their way. Once again, the tom stood in the middle, his head tilted back to face the glittering expanse above him as the song came to a close.

“My friends,” He mewed, his soft voice shattering the deathly silence. “Travel safely.” There was no response, not even the chirp of crickets or the rustle of leaves. He pawed at his bandanna and waited a moment longer, his icy gaze the calmest it had been in a long while. Tonight was a good night. 

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I've thrown five of my pet enclosures into the garage FINALLY

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some of u are like “i’ve been on tumblr for a year! i can’t believe it’s been so long!” i’ve been on thsi goddamn website for 5 years and i can’t escape hell…..i remember tumblr prom……the fucjkign mishapocalypse…….

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You don’t need to constantly down yourself. You are worth more than you may believe.

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a more anthro version of my sona because why the heckie not

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this is the last louis wain picture i’m going to force you all to look at but look at this very gay late 1800′s cat

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“you’re an adult now”

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no fucking way

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game developer: this game is multiplayer ONLY, we want you to play this game ONLY WITH YOUR FRIENDS

me, no friends mcFuck: great

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