#hanahaki Billy

[thatharringrovehoe]

Burnout can't stop me from making mood boards of my WIPs! (Yet..)

[runraerun]

Billy with hanahaki disease ?🌸?

Pain!:’)

I love it! Here ya go🌸🩸

Fic prompts are: OPEN if anyone else is interested 💌 -> 📬

Tw; blood, slight body horror.

—

It started shortly after Billy moved to this shitty little town in the middle of assfuck nowhere. He chalked it up to the air quality being dogshit compared to California, or maybe he was allergic to that pungent smell of manure that the locals seemed totally nose blind to. The absolute last thing he would have considered was a goddamn plant had started growing inside of him–a love plant.

It was rare. You were only susceptible to it if you had a certain gene that you inherited from your maternal line. Lucky him.

Guess he can’t say his mom left him with nothing when she packed her shit up and skipped town. No, instead of a forwarding address, Billy’s mom left him her shitty, fairy genes. Thanks, Mom. Real swell of you.

“Has there been anyone you’ve had your eye on?” The school nurse asks, voice pitched low, gentle, like she was trying to soothe some kind of volatile beast.

Billy spits another mouthful of blood into the pan he’s holding, the crumpled up flower petals that he’d just finished hacking up look like chunks of his lung rather than a part of a plant. Runs his tongue along his teeth to try and fish anything out that may have gotten left behind in the carnage.

“No.” He says, stubbornly. He doesn’t look up from the pan.

“Well, Hanahaki disease can only take root under very specific circumstances. It feeds off a pheromone our bodies release when we experience a certain emotion; the stress of a love that’s unrequited. It’s the only–”

“I said no, alright?” Billy barks, voice still a little ragged from his coughing fit. Like he’d swallowed with a mouthful of gravel. “Get off my back.”

The nurse sighs, but she doesn’t move to stop him when he puts the pan down beside him and gets to his feet.

“It’ll only get worse if you ignore it, Mr. Hargrove.” She warns.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” Billy mutters, but he doesn’t have the energy to put any heat behind his words, so it doesn’t do much to wipe that stupid sympathetic look from her face. He grabs his jean jacket and leaves, shoving the door open with enough force that it slams back against the wall.

Despite his repeated denial, Billy knew who was responsible for this fucking mess.

Steve Harrington.

With his perfect hair and his stupid fucking Bambi eyes, lighting up every goddamn room he strode into with those long legs of his. Jesus… How could Billy ever have stood a chance?

Just thinking of him brought a tickle to the back of Billy’s throat. He suppresses a cough into his fist as he stomps down the hallway, now empty due to everyone else having gone home for the day. Except Billy, who of course couldn’t fucking breathe after gym class today after getting a little too rough with Steve.

It hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary, but something about the way Steve elbowed Billy away, how he barked at him to give him some breathing space, yelled at Billy to fuck off already—it had Billy’s chest acting up.

He held out for most of the class, fighting against the fucking petals that were pushing their way up through his fucking esophagus by beating at his chest, shouting to clear his airways, but then in the showers, Steve had avoided him completely. Had somehow managed to slip and out of the stalls without Billy noticing, depriving him of their usual naked back and forth banter that Billy had come to look forward to.

It was one thing for Steve to hate him, but it was another thing entirely for Steve to be indifferent toward him. That was way fucking worse.

The sting of rejection quickly turned to a coughing fit, worse than any he had experienced before. Like he’s hacking up a fucking lung. A few of the other boys had asked him, ‘you okay man?’ or, ‘should we get the coach?’, and worst of all, ‘oh shit is that blood?’

Billy was barely able to shove his legs back into his jeans and shoulder one of his classmates out of his way before he stumbled into the nurse’s office.

Fat lot of good that did him…

He’s gotta pick up Max. He can’t afford to hang around and talk about his pathetic, one-sided love with a complete stranger anyway. Billy leaves the school, gets into his car, puts the windows down and cranks the music as loud as he can stand it, and he tries very hard not to think about Steve and this ever growing thing that’s taken root inside of his chest, steadily consuming him from the inside out.

Christ, who knew he was such a fucking romantic…

[xgardensinspace]

Holy cow, my dudes!

I've written a Harringrove fic once again! It's been a hot minute, but I'm so proper stoked with how this fic turned out! <3

Thank you SO much to @fandomtrumpshate for allowing us this beautiful space to create fandom content in exchange for donations :)

And thank you SOOO much to @dirtbagdefender for requesting a Hanahaki fic for this duo ;) It's so perfect for themmm >:) And it was so fun to write. This one goes out to youuu, boo! Thank you for allowing me to write for Harringrove once again, hehe. I missed these duuuuudes ;)

So yeah! I hope you guys enjoy my little creation! Riddled with the Language of Flowers ;)

[sarahkomik]

cringtober day: 30 supernatural / monster

Amelie did this with me

Stand alone images below

[raven-cl]

Harringrove hanahaki au where Billy develops feelings for Steve but always sees him with Nancy but doesn't know they broke up so he thinks he never has a chance because Steve seems so smitten with Nancy there's no way he'd want Steve

He just keeps those feelings to himself but then the Byer's incident happens where he kicks the shit out of him and he tries to dig down those feelings cause one, he doesn't need someone who would lie to him about his sisters whereabouts and two, he just beat the shit out of the guy so theres no way he'd ever like him now. Even as he tells himself this, everytime he does he starts to violently cough up flowers showing his heart isn't into it

Max can see that he has it but she can't tell who its about or anything and he won't tell her and so she resorts to just trying to get Heather to prod about when she sees her at the pool and Steve cause shes desperate for anyone who she think Billy would be willing to tell.

Steve tries to get close to him to ask but Billy is incredibly hostile which he gets but he can see what Max is talking about cause he looks. Bad. Instead of just trying to push for an answer he just tries to befriend Billy instead and in the meantime he just genuinely enjoys Billy's presence and everything.

This however just seems to exacerbate Billy's condition and before Billy gets too weak and actually dies he forces him to tell him who's it about before Billy finally yells its him. Its Steve and always has been and Steve

And as Steve grew closer to Billy he developed feelings for him and when he tries to tell Billy he feels the same way Billy just rejects him cause obviously this is just Steve trying to save him and he doesnt actually love him

So Steve starts trying to convince Billy that he does, he does actually love him and eventually he manages to get through to him cause Billy's kissing him and no longer coughing up flowers

[dansconcepts]

Talentswap AU - Take Me Hot to Go

YES THE TITLE IS A CHAPPELL ROAN SONG I LOVE HER VERY MUCH. Anyways, I have a certain rarepair (I think it is anyway) that I love (it's Nanamiki but I affectionally call it Tsunanami bc they're so soft I love them), so this is gonna be highly self-indulgent under the cut. For this AU, I do have my share of drabbles as well as other character interactions, but I'm dropping this first since it's fresh out the oven (see what I did there?). Also, this is definitely longer than usual, and that's in solidarity for the next thing I'm planning to post. That one's turning out to be a behemoth, and it has to do with certain hcs that I reblogged before ;>.

“WHAAAA-!?” Ibuki gasps. “You guys haven’t talked yet?!” 

Chiaki nods while Mikan timidly looks down. 

“Well, that’s a HUGEEEEE problem! You girls are Ibuki’s super duper close friends!” Ibuki lifts a hand to Chiaki. “Tsum-tsum, meet Chiaki, a super awesome baker! Just the absolute best.” She wraps an arm around Mikan. “Chi, this adorable girlie is the florist I’ve told you about! She's the reason Ibuki's place smells so nice and looks so good!”

The Ultimate Florist takes her eyes off of the clinging Ibuki and turns to the baker, who meets her gaze.

She quickly averts her eyes.

A-ah! That was so rude of me!

She looks back and glimpses at the soft smile that’s pointed right! at! her! 

She offers a hesitant smile back.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

It didn’t take her too long to get all the way to Chiaki’s dorm, the dark entrance beckoning her to lift her hand and raise it. A chill runs down her spine. She doesn’t usually hang out with people like this… but she’d really like to. But can she do this? 

C’mon Mikan, I know you’ve got this. You gotta tell me everything later, after all. Hajime’s encouragement rings through her mind. Her eyes close shut as she rapidly pounds her fist against the door. Knock knock! 

The florist thumbs at her bandaids, biting her lip. Does she look like a mess? Maybe she doesn’t have the right address? Did she possibly get the wrong address?! AHHHHH! She needs to check her phone again-!

“Hey, Mikan. I’m glad you can make it.” 

“Wah!” She jumps. Her phone thumps onto the ground.

“Oh, I’m sorry for scaring you. Here, let me…” The baker crouches on the maroon tiles, reaching out a hand to grab the fallen object before presenting it to her. How embarrassing! She bows her head, gently taking it from her hands. “S-sorry about that. I’m just… weird…”

“No, you seem nervous. Am I right?” Chiaki states bluntly, and Mikan’s face reddens. “There’s nothing strange about being nervous, as far as I know. So come in, maybe it’ll be more comfortable.” She opens the door again, this time sidestepping for the dark-haired girl to enter first. She mumbles her gratitude and enters. 

The place is homey, a simple couch and coffee table decorated in soft pastels of pink and teal accents, while the walls are majorly white. There’s not much decoration though besides a cute rabbit plush close to the doorway, its arm suspended in the air like it’s waving to every person that enters. She sees a modest shoe rack and slips off her sneakers. The door closes with a click. 

“Um, you sure you’re okay with being here? I know it’s a little sudden, it seemed like a really nice idea but…”

Does she want to kick me out already? “N-no, I was just looking around!” She has to gnaw her lip from saying ‘I could stop though’. “I was actually wondering if I could see you bake! Since I’m here!” 

“Hmm? You want to watch me bake? Really?” Mikan nods her head. “That sounds like it’d be nice…”

“Y-yay!” She whispers with a grin. “Eep! Sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright. I think it’ll be fun too.” 

“I, um, brought the rose petals and rose water, like you asked. I… didn’t forget anything, did I?”

“No, you did great, thanks Mikan.”

She hands them over out of her satchel, and Chiaki moves, but she freezes. Her pink eyes stare intently at her hands. Was something wrong with her hands? Were they still dirty with dirt? She swears she cleaned them! She washed them multiple times!

“You’re wearing a bunch of bandaids… Are you alright?”

“A-ah! It happens. I get pricked by thorns a lot, haha… but I’m okay! I’m just clumsy!”

“Well, they say food is a great medicine, so maybe working on this recipe will help.” Was… that meant to be a joke? The corners of her lips tug upward. It was a little odd. 

She follows the baker into the kitchen. There’s a chair pulled out for her, and she sits with a giggle at the silly grin the girl throws at her. Before her is a marble counter, a rectangle on it looking like what could be one of those fancier stoves. There’s more counters lining the walls, with a modest refrigerator and multiple ovens, one already alight with orange. Besides dishes, there’s baking sheets, cutlery, jars, and cups scattered about. It’s very stacked, as expected of the Ultimate Baker, if not a little messier than she expected… 

Chiaki washes her hands, setting the rose ingredients down with what appears to be the rest. Some standard baking ingredients from what she can tell, except for the raspberries and a carton of whipping cream. Is she making a cake? “I wanted to make some cream puffs for everyone.” The baker explains, placing a pan on the stove, turning on the heat. She grabs some device underneath that kinda looks like a blender, but smaller, and starts placing raspberries, a cup of sugar (she’s guessing?), and the rose water. They’re quickly blended and set aside. “They’re pretty simple, I think, and I wanted to add a rose-infused raspberry fool filling.”

“Raspberry fool?” 

“Hmm?” Chiaki hums, swiftly placing ingredients into the pot with an ease that she wonders if she admires or is jealous of. 

“What’s that?”

The baker stares at the pan. The silence weighs on her. Does she sound stupid? Is this something that’s actually common knowledge? Oh, darn it, maybe she should’ve studied common baking terms! Maybe then Chiaki wouldn’t be so bored of her already.

Chiaki blinks. “Oh, sorry, it’s berries and cream.” The baker directs her attention to Mikan’s face. She isn’t sure what she looks like, but Chiaki’s head tilts at the expression that must’ve been there. “You seem upset. I should’ve warned you, I do that sometimes. Space out, I mean. You’re free to try getting my attention. I promise I won’t be mad. Hajime does it all the time.” She cracks a smile, briskly mixing the whipping cream and powdered sugar in a bowl she grabbed. “He treats me like a pot. If he keeps watching me, I won’t boil.” 

Mikan giggles. She doesn’t understand the analogy at all, but it’s kinda cute to see the other girl looking so amused at her own jokes. The baker’s smile grows wider at her reaction. She scoops out the dough from the pan and Mikan watches as she places it into a metal bowl connected to a mixer and turns it on. Afterwards, she starts adding the raspberry mixture with the whipped cream and folds with a spatula. Sensing her opportunity, she blurts, “Y-you’re very composed! It’s… amazing.” Even at her shop, she’s always zipping to different flowers, checking on their growth and health, or checking inventory, or cleaning. She does love it, the sense of urgency born purely out of passion, but she’s never looked so laidback about any of it.  

Chiaki goes quiet for a moment, yet still keeps folding. Mikan studies her face, this time seeing the way her pupils dilate. “Chiaki?” She softly calls out.

“Right. I’m really not that composed. I’m just-” Her cheeks puff, “focused. You probably saw from looking around, I can be a bit messy.” 

“I, uh, don’t think that changes much actually! If anything, I-I think it’s a fun fact to learn about you! If, um, you don’t mind me saying.”

She watches the other look down. “I-” Is it just Mikan, or was she blushing? The baker shakes her head, clearing her throat. “I appreciate that.” She switches the mixer off and grabs one of the stray trays, grabbing an ice cream scoop and plopping out dough balls perfectly. “Ibuki wasn’t kidding. You’re very sweet… like caramel, I suppose.”

Mikan giggles once more, trying to ignore the way her feet want to kick. It’s one of the kindest things she’s ever been told. She wonders if she should tell Chiaki she reminds her of a sweet pea. No, that would be a bit much, huh? She probably wouldn’t like it. She shouldn’t be so forward, that wouldn’t be very good (“but we all wuv wuv you as you are Tsumi! Trust in Ibuki! I swear you’re a cutie! Yourself is the best self there is!”).

Chiaki places the dough mounds into the oven. Wow, that was admirably fast. The baker grabs the bunny timer sitting atop, which is just very adorable, and she covers her mouth to yawn. She stumbles over to the chair beside her.

“I’ma take a little nap.” 

“A-a nap? Right now?”

True to her word, the pink-haired girl is out like a light on the counter. She looks at the sleeping girl, curled up on the counter in front of her. She wants to melt from the softness she finds. Kind, talented, cute… she’s always been so terrified to talk with her. Gah! She’s so thankful for Ibuki.

Well. She eyes the oven. Hopefully she isn’t the reason those burn, but it’s best not to touch it. The last thing she wants to do is ruin Chiaki’s creations…

In the meantime though, she can try being helpful. Those dishes from earlier seem like a good place to start. She heads over to the sink and starts washing. 

The timer rings. Mikan, after finishing the dishes, spent a few moments guiltily switching between watching Chiaki rest, berating herself for it, and also watching the oven because she genuinely doesn’t want anything to burn on her watch. In her pursuit, she manages to see the super cute way Chiaki’s eyes blearily open and meet her gaze. “Huh? Were you watching me?” 

Mikan immediately scrambles, arms flailing like crazy. “SorrySorrySorry!” The rapid movement causes her chair to teeter, and soon she’s flailing her arms for another reason. 

CRASH!

She yelps. 

“Oh!” Chiaki crouches to her side. “Are you okay?”

Mikan runs a quick check. “Ah, yes, I’m alright! Sorry!!! I’m sorry if I was being creepy, I should’ve known better…” 

The baker shrugs. “I didn’t really mind. It’s not like you were doing anything weird, right?”

“I would never!” She quickly exclaims. And she means it with all her heart. She would never…

Chiaki smiles. “I know, sorry, that was a joke. I appreciate how quickly you said that though. Now c’mon, let’s get you up.” Chiaki pulls her up, and feeling it, she notices how rough they are. There’s callouses. Before she can ask, Chiaki immediately heads over to the oven, and her curiosity is thrown out the window. “I really hope those aren’t burned! I’m s-sorry for distracting you!”

Instead of replying, Chiaki grabs oven mitts and presents the tray to her. She warily glances at it. Thankfully, it’s not the hockey pucks she was scared she’d find, but golden brown puffs of delectable goodness. “It came out looking pretty good, wouldn’t you agree?” Mikan nods, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I don’t know if this may help, but I always set it a little early since I don’t want to burn it either.”

She drops it off on the counter. Silently, she grabs a piping bag and fills it with the raspberry filling. “Well, we sort of have to wait until these cool down. In the meantime, I’ve got these-” She pulls out a tray from the fridge. “Wanna help me decorate them? They’re sugar cookies, for fun.” 

“C-can I really? I don’t really know how to.” 

“I can show you.”

Chiaki sets the tray down. Mikan can’t help but laugh. These cookies… 

Chiaki grins. “I’m the Ultimate Baker, not the Ultimate Artist. That’s why I have Nagito help me decorate for super complex stuff.”

Mikan and Chiaki proceed to have a fun time messing around with decorating sugar cookies, laughing and smiling all the while. Chiaki teaches her the technique with premade icing she had, and Mikan finds herself relaxing as she carefully smoothes out her design. 

She’s finishing the pricks of seeds on her cookie when she hears a gasp behind her. “That’s beautiful.” Mikan looks back at her sunflower bouquet. “Oh no, i-it’s nothing special!”

“No way! I may need to fire Nagito!” She scrambles. “I am going to save this and take a photo of it later, is that okay?” 

Mikan chuckles. “Um, yes! I’m… really flattered, actually.”

They go back to the puffs. “So there’s kinda a balance in making the dough-filling ratio just right, but it’s pretty easy to tell if you filled it properly. It gets all puffy, like this.” She demonstrates. “Here, wanna try?”

Mikan grabs the bag. She hesitantly places it into the puff. She squeezes the bag, and- POOF! The puff drips, and icing lands on Chiaki’s apron.

“Oh no oh no! I-I’m so sorry!”

Chiaki blinks. She squirms. Is she going to kick me out now? 

And then the baker bursts out into a loud guffaw, clutching her stomach. Plum eyes stare, wide-eyed.

Chiaki wipes the tears from her eyes. “Oh, wow, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time. You’re really funny, Mikan. I didn’t expect that at all.”

She blushes. “Oh… thank you!” 

They fill the rest, this time with Mikan succeeding in filling one without any problems. It’s not perfect, but she’s proud all the same. Her cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. When was the last time she’s ever felt like this?

They both eat one (Chiaki bumps hers with Mikan’s with a “Cheers!” and Mikan wants to melt even more) and Mikan hums, pleased. “This tastes amazing!” 

“I’m glad you like them.”

Her phone buzzes. It’s just a spam email, but it causes her to check the time. 23:32. “A-ah! I have to go, sorry, I have to open my shop in the morning…”

“Ah, really? Man… Guess that means we’ll have to continue another time.” Chiaki grins.

Mikan matches her grin. “I guess it does.”

Chiaki walks her out to the door.

“Really, this was a lot of fun. I hope we can keep doing this, I never thought I’d have so much fun baking…”

“I would love to.” She says honestly. 

“I’ll text you?”

Mikan nods, perhaps a little too excitedly, because she feels light-headed. 

“Then, good night Mikan. Or maybe morning, actually…”

“Good night, Chiaki.”

The baker closes her door.

She grins, giddily giggling and internally kicking her feet in the air all the way home.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

The brunet perches on the metal railing like a bird. He scouts out his surroundings, wondering if he has the time to scale the wall as he waits. Never mind, he sees familiar wine-coloured hair. He moves to wave at her, and glances at the way she's grinning widely the whole time. Wow, I haven’t seen her smile like that so easily before. 

“Hey, how’re you doing?” Hajime asks.

“I’m great! I, um, got to bake with a friend yesterday.” Mikan sing songs.

“Oh, Chiaki, right?”

Mikan nods excitedly. 

I’m glad they had fun. Hajime smirks. “Did Chiaki fall asleep during her baking again?”

“Oh yes! She did! And she…!”

Mikan rants the whole time while Hajime listens.

[medusapelagia]

31 AU-gust: Two of 2022 prompts (Hanahaki Disease + Surfer)

[This is the last one!!! Thank you so much for staying with me during this experience and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!]

Rating: Mature Relationship: Steve Harrington/Billy Hargrove Characters: Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson WT: blood, sickfick, mutual pinning WC: 3804

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?" "Go back to California."

That's what Billy has murmured to Steve on the sticky floor of the Starcourt.

Many things have happened in the meantime.

The world has almost ended, again, someone has been badly hurt, again, they were almost killed, again, but at the end of the day, Steve is sitting on a chair between Billy and Eddie and Max is just a few rooms down.

It's past the visitors' hours and the nurses have tried to make him leave more than once but he hasn't and both the boys have become so distressed that in the end, they decided to let him stay for the night. And the next night. And the next one. Until Steve was absolutely sure that no one was going to die.

"Steve, you should go home." Eddie says while he is writing in the hospital notebook that Steve stole for him.

"Uh?"

"He is right. You have been here for days, Muson here is getting better every day, and Max is only waiting for her leg to heal and she will be home soon."

The only problem is that there is no home.

The trailer park was devastated, like half of the town, so they are keeping Max at the hospital as long as they can. Peak of being involved with Upside Down shit, five stars treatment at the hospital.

"No, I want to be here in case you need something." Steve states and then gets back to the crossword puzzle that he was doing.

"Steve. You stink. You need to take a shower and to sleep in a fucking bed." Billy replies in a stern voice.

He trembles.

"I... stink?"

"You do. You have been here for days without taking a shower or anything. Come on!"

Steve feels something scratching his throat.

"That's what you think of me?"

Billy grins "Don't make it personal! It's just the truth."

Eddie glares at Billy “I think that you should stop it, Billy, before saying something you will regret.”

“He stinks. Can’t you smell him?”

“He has stayed at your bedside for days, Hargrove. And he didn’t complain.”

“Yes, but…”

Steve lifts his hands “Ok, ok, don’t argue. I’ll go home and grab a shower, ok?” 

The tickle in his throat is becoming really annoying.

“Listen, Steve, Hargrove here didn’t mean it like that, you know how he is and…”

Steve starts to cough, and cough. He feels like something is trying to get out of his mouth, like in some horror movie.

He runs toward the bathroom, coughing even more.

He drinks some tap water and slowly the strange feeling starts to fade.

“Are you ok there, big boy?” Eddie calls.

Steve looks at his face in the mirror. He really looks horrible. Maybe going home for the night is not a bad idea. But what if someone takes them away when he is not here? Or if something happens? Or if another creature from that hellish dimension appears out of nowhere?

“Steve?” Billy’s voice drags him away from his thoughts.

“Sorry. Spit just went down the wrong pipe.” he replies, getting back to the room.

He is scared. He is fucking scared that something will happen if he is not there. But they are right. He can’t stay all his life in a hospital room. But at least here they are together.

“Are you scared?” Eddie asks, always too intuitive.

Steve denies it, but Billy grabs his arm and lets him sit on his bed “Your parents’ are still away?”

He nods, silently.

Billy’s hands close in a fist.

“But it’s fine. I’ll go home and I’ll come back tomorrow and…”

“No, no, no, you know what you are going to do? You are going to take a shower, grab some things, and come back here. I’m sure that Billy can convince a nurse to let you sleep here with us.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You got bitten by interdimensional bats. Who knows what could happen to you!” Eddie replies with a dramatic gesture.

Steve smiles at the performance and then he feels Billy’s hand on his back “That’s better isn’t it?”

And the tickle in his throat comes back.

  ***

 Steve will never know how Billy and Eddie managed to convince the nurse to let him stay, but when he comes back there is a little cot in a corner of the room, and for the first time in days he doesn’t have to sleep on a chair. But that doesn’t mean that he gets a good night's sleep.

 "What would you like to do when all of this is over?" "Go back to California."

 “Steve. Steve!” someone is calling his name and shaking him.

He opens his eyes and Billy’s face is in front of him.

“Billy! Are you ok?” he asks, sitting on the bed and looking at him worriedly.

“Am I ok? You were screaming in your sleep!”

Oh. That.

“I do that sometimes. I’m sorry I disturbed your sleep.”

“That’s not what I meant!” he grumbles “Are you ok?”

Is any of them ok?

Of course not! 

He has nightmares and fears and he is terrified of losing sight of his friends.

He is not fucking ok.

“I’m good. Go back to sleep.”

Billy stares at him in the pale light of the street light for a long moment and then goes back to his bed.

He doesn’t limp anymore as he used to.

“Billy?” he calls.

“Uhm?”

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?"

Billy stares at him in silence and for a moment Steve thinks that maybe he remembers, that he is going to answer "Go back to California."

“Get out of this shitty hospital, find a job, and live my fucking life.”

Oh. Ok. That’s a good idea too.

“Good night Billy.”

“Night.”

Steve closes his eyes but he stays awake for a long time, fighting the horrible tickle in his throat.

  ***

Discharged.

The guys are going to be discharged and Eddie is already planning an entire trip.

“I need to find a fucking job Munson, and you too actually.” Billy complains.

“Naah, you don’t need a job when you have the government money!”

“It will not last forever, soon or later you’ll have to find a job.” Billy insists.

“I will when I need to. Why don’t let me tell you about the trip that I organized? I have found all the most bizarre tourist attractions between here and… California.”

Billy’s eyes shine for a moment at the word, then he becomes serious “I shouldn’t…”

“Come on! Live a little! It will be fun!”

“What about Max?”

“Your little sister will be just fine with the Sinclairs! So, what do you say?”

“Ok. I’d like to see the ocean.”

“What do you say, pretty boy? Let’s go to California?”

Steve turns abruptly toward him “Are you asking him to come?”

The tickles become stronger and stronger until he has to take a paper tissue and cough loudly.

“Are you ok Stevie?” Eddie asks.

Steve, who is giving them his back, sees some blood on the tissue.

That can not be a good sign.

“Fine. I’m fine. I had something stuck in the throat but now I feel so much better.”

It’s not a lie.

The boys look at him worriedly but then they keep talking about the little trip they are going on.

  ***

A petal.

In his fucking tissue there is a petal.

He should show it to Robin, she would probably tell him what kind of flower it is, but the truth is that he doesn’t care. All he wants to know is why he coughed a petal.

He makes some generic questions to his doctor during his check-up but the man knows nothing about coughing flowers.

He doesn’t want to travel with Billy and Eddie if this is contagious, but they already slept in the same room for weeks and no one of them seemed to be coughing flowers.

Maybe they are hiding it, just like him.

“Have you… have you ever coughed flowers?” he asks Eddie while he is filling up the car and Billy is in the bathroom.

“Coughed flowers? What does it mean?”

“Uh? Nothing is just… a line from a song. I thought you knew it.”

Eddie shakes his head “No, sorry, never heard of that. Is that famous or…”

Billy comes back, wrapping his arms around Steve and pulling him up.

“What were the two of you plotting?”

Steve feels the sensation he is too familiar with.

“Nothing. I just have to go to the bathroom.”

“I thought you didn’t need it.”

He frees himself from Billy’s grip “One sec.”

He runs toward the bathroom and starts to cough.

That’s not one petal, these are many, many red petals mixed with blood and spit.

Disgusting.

“Are you ok?”

Billy’s voice calls from the entrance and Steve coughs again, throwing up even more petals.

He keeps coughing petals, struggling for oxygen, and when he thinks he is going to blackout in the stupid stall, the cough finally stops and he breathes again.

“Steve?”

“I’m fine. But don’t pick me up again please.” he replies.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that your stomach was so sensitive.”

It isn’t.

But it’s better than the truth.

  ***

California.

Blue sea, white sand, ocean breeze.

Billy seems like another person while he swims like a dolphin between the waves.

Steve would like to swim too but he is too scared of the flower thing so he stays on the beach with Eddie, waving at him like a parent to his kid.

“You should talk to him.”

“Uh?”

“Billy. You should tell him what you feel.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

Eddie studies him for a long moment and then he nods to himself “Maybe it’s too soon.”

Steve has no idea what he is talking about, so he turns his head and Billy is right in front of him, his skin is glistening and he is smiling so brightly that he gets almost blind when he looks at him.

“Are you having fun?”

“I am. Would you like to surf?”

“Surf? Me? I have never…”

“I can teach you! Come on. Put on your swim trunks and let's go!”

“What about Eddie?”

“I don’t think that Eddie is going to like the water. He is like a stray cat!”

“Fuck off Hargrove! And you go, Stevie. Don’t worry about me. Have fun for once.” Eddie replies with a wink.

Steve gets back to the van and puts on his swim trunks and when he comes back, Billy is waiting for him with a board in his hands and another in the sand.

“Come on. I’ll show you.”

Billy takes the board and surfs some little waves, showing off a little, but Steve smiles at him proudly. 

“Who is that freak?” someone asks at his side and Steve looks back at Billy.

His white t-shirt is wet and has become completely see-through, so all his horrible scars are showing.

“He is someone who survived certain death and is riding those fucking waves like a pro!” he rebukes them, and the two guys quickly move away.

“Have you seen me?” he asks, shaking his head like a wet dog.

“I did. You were amazing!”

“Would you like to try?”

He gets in the water.

“Go on, lie on the board, not too forward and not too far, almost in the middle, so you can jump on the board when you catch the wave.” he explains to him “We will start with some whitewater waves. They are the easiest to catch and the more forgiving.” 

Billy gets on his board, showing Steve how to move in the water “First of all start paddling, big long, cupped strokes. Don’t forget to kick your feet. And when you are ready…” he jumps on the board and surfs.

“Easy, right?”

Well, not at all! Steve is quite good at surfing on his belly, but when he tries to stand up he falls every single time.

“You should go. You will have more fun without me.”

Billy shakes his head “Come on. I know you can do it. Let’s try again.”

And they try again, and again, and again, and finally Steve manages to surf a little whitewater.

Eddie is cheering for him from the beach and Billy… Billy is behind him looking proudly at Steve and he loses his balance falling into the water while he starts to cough underwater.

He sees the red blood in the blue of the ocean and a few seconds later Billy is pulling him out from the water.

“Are you ok? I saw blood. Did you hurt yourself?”

But Steve can’t answer. He keeps coughing and coughing and finally, he spit a big red rose.

Eddie gets closer to him and looks at the flower with horror.

“It wasn’t a fucking song, right Harrington?”

Billy stares at the two of them confused, the bloody rose still in Steve's hands.

“What the fuck is happening?”

“Our Steve has been coughing flowers. For a while, I suppose, but he didn’t tell us.”

“Coughing flowers? What the hell does it mean? Is he sick?” Billy asks, holding Steve even tighter.

“I’m not sick. Or, if I am, it’s an unknown disease. I already spoke to a doctor.”

“Not the right kind of doctor.” Eddie replies, sharing a look with Billy.

  ***

California’s hospitals are no different from Hawkin’s. The only difference is that he is isolated and that Owens has done a lot of tests.

His left lung is completely obstructed, and the right one is not so good either.

“There are flowers that are growing into your lungs, Steve. And I don’t know how that is possible.”

“Maybe I breathe a seed or something…”

Owens stares at him behind his mask “I think that you breathed something. In the Upside Down. And now it is growing in your lungs.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Owens sighs, sitting on a chair next to him “My advice is surgery. We might have to remove the left lung but maybe we could save part of the right one.”

“And if it’s too compromised?”

“I think you know the answer.”

He does, but he is not ready to die at twenty-one.

“How long do you think…?”

“One month. Maybe two.”

“Oh.”

“Do you want me to call your parents, Steve?”

“No. They are in Europe. I… I’ll deal with it.”

The man puts a hand on his shoulder and leaves the room.

After a few minutes, he hears some noises in the corridor and he hears Eddie and Billy complaining that they want to see him.

His heart starts to beat faster. How can he tell them that he has only one month, maybe two?

He is still thinking when the door opens and the two of them get in the room.

“Are you ok Steve? What did he say?”

Steve doesn’t answer and starts to cry, and Billy hugs him tight.

“It’s going to be ok, Steve. We will find a solution. It’s going to be ok, I swear.”

“They gave me one month…” he tries to say while he keeps coughing, and coughing and coughing spitting another horribly beautiful flower.

“It’s you.” Eddie says from the other side of the room, pointing at Billy.

“What the fuck are you saying?”

“It’s you!” Eddie repeats, taking away Steve from Billy’s grip.

Steve's coughs subside and then stop.

“What the fuck does it mean?”

“I don’t know but he gets worse when he is near to you.”

Billy lowers his head “I’m sorry. I don’t know how this works… but if you will feel better far from me so be it. I will never see you again and…”

But Steve knows that he has only one month to live and he doesn’t want to waste it being separated.

“No!” he yells “If I only have a month I want to spend it with you. I love you Billy, and I don’t care that you don’t love me back but please, please, don’t leave me alone now.” he cries, still in Eddie’s arms.

Billy kneels in front of him “I love you too and I feel so stupid now. We could have had all the time in the world and now… now…”

Steve doesn’t want to waste any more time so he kisses him and Billy doesn’t seem to care that he still has spit and blood on his mouth.

Billy soon gets control of the kiss, kissing him deeply, almost aggressively, trying to devour him, and Steve lets him take what he wants until he feels the familiar sensation that grows into his throat.

He starts to cough, but the thing is stuck inside him. He keeps coughing and coughing and he feels the flower in his mouth but it doesn’t get out.

Eddie holds his head gently, while Billy grabs the fucking flower and starts to pull it.

It burns, it hurts, all Steve can feel is pain, and before loses consciousness he sees what looks like bloody roots.

  ***

The floor it’s sticky from the monster’s body that melted on the ground.

Billy’s eyes are blurry while Steve holds him.

“Help him! Help him!” Max is screaming in his ear. No emergency kit could stop the blood that is coming out from Billy’s body, but he keeps pushing on the wound, trying his best to keep him from bleeding out on the fucking floor.

“Hey, hey, it will be ok. Help it’s on the way. You just have to wait for a little longer, ok?”

The blond boy spits some blood on Steve’s uniform but he doesn’t flinch.

“Hold on, ok? Hold on. Just for a moment longer.”

Robin is rambling with someone, maybe a doctor but Steve can’t move his sight from Billy’s eyes. He has to keep him here with him.

“Hey, now that you have graduated you can do whatever you want, right?” he tells him, trying very hard to keep his tone calm.

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?" he asks him with a smile.

"Go back to California." Billy whispers, and then he takes a big breath and his eyes close.

“Billy? Billy?”

Max is screaming, trying to shake him but Steve will not have anyone close to him.

“Put pressure on the wound!” he orders and Lucas and Dustin obey immediately while Steve starts to perform CPR.

“We are going to California. Do you hear me, fucking moron?” he yells, while pushing hard on his chest, hearing the ribs fracture “We are going to fucking California and you are going to teach me how to surf. And we will drink on the beach, looking at the stupid sunset! DO YOU FUCKING HEAR ME?” he keeps pushing, and then breathing two times into Billy’s mouth.

It’s the closest thing to a kiss that they ever shared.

“Please, move, we have to…”

But Steve is not listening, he loves that fucking heart and even if he doesn’t love him back he is not going to let him rest.

He keeps pushing, and breathing, until he sees Billy’s chest moving.

“Good job!” one of the paramedics says to him, and then he drags him away while the other starts to work on Billy.

“Are you injured? I suspect you have a concussion and…”

“Billy!” he says, pointing at the boy.

“He is in good hands.”

“Robin!” he looks around and the girl is nowhere to be seen “Robin!” he calls again.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m ok. Let her have a look at you, ok dingus?”

Steve nods.

The only thing in his mind is California.

"What would you like to do when all of this is over?" "Go back to California."

  ***

When he comes back to his senses, the first thing that he hears is a steady beat from somewhere to his right.

He tries to move and he feels someone holding his hand.

“Steve? Are you awake?”

He opens his eyes, his vision is blurred but there is no mistaking those blue eyes.

“Billy?” he asks, his voice is rough.

“That’s me, pretty boy. How do you feel?” he asks, helping him sit and then he gets him some ice chips.

Steve stays still for a moment, waiting for the familiar pain, but when he feels nothing at all he opens his mouth and lets Billy feed him a couple of ice chips.

They are delicious.

“Slowly.” Billy scolds him with a warm smile while he feeds him another chip.

If there is something more taster than ice chips, Steve has never tasted it.

“How do you feel?” Billy asks again, brushing some hair away from his face,

“Good?”

“Is that a question, pretty boy?” Billy says amused, then he gets serious “You gave us quite a scare, Stevie.” he scolds him, holding his hand “I really thought you were going to die in my arms.” 

Steve knows exactly how that feels.

“Sorry.”

“No need to be sorry, but I want you to promise me that if you don’t feel well or something strange happens to you, you will tell me. Immediately.”

Steve nods and when he turns he sees that on his nightstand there are a couple of beautiful flowers with roots.

“Are they…?”

Billy nods “I ripped one from your throat and Owens and his doctors were able to rip the others. You had a seven-hour-long surgery, but there are no more roots or flowers in your lungs.”

“Did they… Did they remove my lung?” he asks, trying to look at his chest, but Billy takes his chin between his fingers looking him in the eyes. 

“No. They just took away those damned flowers.” Billy looks at the flowers for a moment “I wanted to throw them away but Munson insisted that they were beautiful so…”

“They are, actually.”

Billy looks at them with hatred “They would be if they wouldn't have almost killed you!”

“I would like to plant them.”

“Really?”

Steve nods, looking at the flowers. “They are beautiful. And they are the reason we finally found love so… why not?”

Billy smiles at him “When you put it like that…”

“How is our flower boy?” Eddie asks, entering the room.

“Fuck off Munson!” Billy admonishes him.

“Oh, so you are not grateful to me? I’m the one that cracked the case!”

Eddie is always so melodramatic.

Steve laughs and then starts to cough and both Eddie and Billy freeze, waiting for some flowers.

“Sorry. Spit just went down the wrong pipe.” and when they see that there are no flowers they all breathe a sigh of relief.

[alttheloco]

What are your fav mcyt au’s?

Man. That’s a good question.

As far as specific au’s go, I enjoyed passerine and tommyinnit’s clinic for supervillains a fair bit (oh and there was this one fic that was hockey and figure skating. I can’t remember the name but it was a RLLY good read)

But generally speaking? I’m a huge sucker for Minecraft cinematic universe stuff, if you will. Things that cross over into other fandoms like hermitcraft into empires, or things that acknowledge the crossing over into the life series.

Anything that shows other servers are canon goes SO HARD. I once read a fic where folks who died on their servers would end up on origins smp as a sort of afterlife (Phil died in his hardcore world, tubbo died on big dig, etc. OUGH it was a yummy concept.)

[alengmae]

here’s to me being emo at work so I started a hanahaki Harringrove fic:  The first time Billy Hargrove heard about Hanahaki was also the first time his father laid his hands on him. He was only seven, barely even going up to his father’s waist. He could remember it clearly as if it was only yesterday. His mother—his beautiful mother—grasped his hand on a sunny summer day as they walked leisurely by the beach. It had been Out of a sudden, she doubled over, coughing up a fit with tears down her eyes, and spit out red roses, thorns and all. Her mouth was crimson from the rouge of the petals and from the blood that came with it.

He was horrified. He had never seen flowers from someone’s lips like that. And even at his tender age, he knew blood was not supposed to exist on the outside of someone’s body. But he just watched as his mother wiped spit and blood from her mouth nonchalantly, even offering him a defeated smile.

“Are you going to die?” he cried.

She tenderly gathered him in her arms and gave him a kiss on the temple. She shushed his growing cries by telling him to temper his sobs with the sound of waves crashing shore. Then she hummed him a song from her favorite records to soothe him. He would later find out that she often hummed because the flowers had damaged her throat extensively. She was a woman of few words anyway but she hummed for him without hesitation. Just for him.

“I love you,” she whispered in his ear, straining to eke the words out.

He sniffed and burrowed into her embrace further. He felt safe in her arms, loved. “I love you too, Mama.”

[justalonelybitch]

It's not low key, makes me want to join billy

Hanahaki

RUDE. smh.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A follow-up to my Hanahaki Platonic Stobin drabble

Platonic Stobin, Steddie, past Stancy || rating: T || wc: 2.7k || tags: dialogue heavy, VERY excessive use of italics, fluff and flirting and humor, no beta

~~~

His sides are ripped to shreds, insides only kept inside because of the torn, dirty scrap of sweater Nancy wrapped around him. Steve’s been downplaying it as much as possible, mostly to keep Munson calm, but Robin knows better.

What’s wrong with your back?

Steve sighs, trying to mute his thoughts into a scramble like they’ve practiced so well over the past nine months, but the scorching pain on his shoulder blades, feet, and arms makes it rather difficult.

Don’t you dare ignore me Steve Harrington.

She glares back at him from her spot next to Nancy. They’ve been walking for miles, every rock and crack in the ground digging into his feet with every step. Munson’s next him, going on about something like bats, or metal music. Steve’s not sure, he’s having a hell of a time focusing.

But the guy crowds into Steve’s space, dipping in and out of orbit like he can’t help being as close as possible. Eddie keeps looking at him. Steve’s never been great with eye contact, but can’t help it when Eddie starts saying things like “the kid worships you, dude” and “insists on the matter, in fact.”

Told you the kid loves you even though he has another older adult male friend.

Steve can practically hear her giggling, but she’s just balancing her out-loud conversation with their mind-reading conversation. She’s better at it than he is, talking to two people at once. Hell, sometimes Steve has a hard enough time keeping track of just one conversation.

Their new super powers had been a learning curve, to say the least. It’d taken them months to learn how to tune each other out when needed, which was more often than not. Working Family Video shed a new light on how absolutely down-bad horny Steve was for almost every mildly attractive woman who walked through the front door. Including Joyce Byers, to Robin’s horror.

Steve was cursed with Robin’s almost near-constant thoughts about her newest crush, Vickie. He’s never met her before, doesn’t remember her from school, but could describe what she looks like down to the small, rust colored freckle on the corner of her left eye, just below the lash line. 

But even with the extensive learning curve, they discovered some severe consequences of their powers almost immediately. 

The first day Robin came over, bloodied and crying, with him no better off, Steve was so shaky he’d dropped a mug, slicing his hand as he scooped up the pieces. She rushed over, said she heard his pain more than felt it, like loud static. 

So, no sharing physical sensations, just mind-reading. Which is great for me, considering how slutty you are. She’d laughed when he lightly knocked her on the shoulder, but she’d thought it with such fondness that he couldn’t be mad if he tried.

The worst of their situation came to light when Robin’s parents called her home, said a weekend away after Star Court was more than enough. So she’d left him alone in that big, empty house, suffering from a severe concussion and dizzy spells.

Which only grew worse the longer they were apart.

Steve didn’t have anywhere to go, now jobless with the mall gone, and none of the kids came to visit. So he’d holed himself up in his room. The headaches grew worse, handfuls of pills doing nothing to help.

By the fifth day, he was vomiting again, shaking and crying, head throbbing, nose bleeding into the toilet bowl all over again when there was a knock on the door. The knock might as well have been inside his skull, but he couldn’t move, could barely see past the haze clouding his periphery like it had after his fight with Billy. He cried as the knocking grew louder, more persistent, until it finally stopped.

He slumped forward, pressed his head into the cool porcelain. Lifting his hand to flush, he noticed a small, vibrant white petal floating amidst the red and black water, all of which, presumably, came out of him.

–can’t find it. Must be… rock. The mat?

Robin?

There was a click, then the sound of his front door opening. Slow, heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Dingus where the hell are you? Not in the bedroom… Please, Steve, I need help.

That got his attention, but as he’d gone to move, the bathroom door opened to a bloodstained Robin, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, pale and gaunt like a ghost. She dropped to the ground next to him, practically draped herself over his back. And just like before, the pain receded so violently he vomited one last time. A full, yet slightly crumpled, flower floated amidst the yuck inside the toilet. 

It was a daisy.

“Daisies are my favorite,” Robin whispered. She held out her hand to him, dirty and covered in the same green stains as the ones on her shirt, and handed him a very small, miniature sunflower. “So I’m guessing–”

My favorite.

Eventually they’d figured out what works and what doesn’t. Talking on the phone everyday never helped, back to throwing up flowers after only a week. He’d started to pull the daisies out to dry, which Robin said was gross. She took them home with her anyways. 

But he’d borrowed Robin a sweatshirt that she took home with her, and by the fourth day, she was in better shape than he was, only a slight headache instead of Steve’s encroaching migraine. So they started exchanging clothes and quickly learned it wasn’t necessarily their clothes or possessions, but their scents. 

You smell kind of like sunflowers

“Robin, sunflowers don’t have a smell.”

She was face first in his pillow, day seventeen after a two-week family vacation to Key West, returning his comforter, and a myriad of t-shirts. They’d both gotten migraines, but no vomit-soaked flowers or bloody noses. So it was an improvement, overall.

I know they don’t. It’s more like, I don’t know, sunshine. Or fresh grass. A warm rain… like summer.

He’d jumped on her then, smothered her into his mattress until she was tickling him to get off her.

“What do I smell like?” she’d asked, casual but not quite casual enough. He smiled.

Like daisies. An open field full of wildflowers. A new song, or driving with the windows down. 

She smiled back at him, wide and genuine, packed full of love. And he knew, in that moment, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with her.

“Harrington,” Eddie cuts through his reminiscing. The guy looks like he’s trying not to be annoyed, which makes sense considering he’s attempting to be nice and Steve’s completely zoned out. 

Do you have another concussion? Is it rabies?

He sighs, quiet enough that hopefully Eddie doesn’t assume it’s aimed at him. No, Robs. Just a normal dingus-where-did-you-go zone out. Relax.

She shoots him another glare over her shoulder, but ultimately lets it go.

“Harrington, you still with us?” Eddie laughs it off like a joke, but his eyes are wide, and he’s pressing in close again.

He’s warm, and without thinking, Steve finds himself leaning towards him, too– like magnets.

What magnets?

Never mind, Robs, shut up.

“Yeah Munson, I’m still here.” Steve chuckles, and Eddie relaxes a tad. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Worse than an under-water tentacle monster dragging you through hell on your bare-back and almost choking you to death?”

When Eddie puts it like that, Steve really does have to think about it. “What about throwing fireworks at a giant, mind-controlling flesh monster and getting tortured under Star Court by Russian spies who shot me and Robin up with mystery drugs?”

DINGUS! If we haven’t told the Party about our super powers you can’t tell a goddamn stranger like Munson!

Eddie’s eyes are wide and dark again. He chuckles a little too loud, almost deranged. “Yeah, you know what, Harrington, that might be worse.”

They continue to walk in silence. Well, Steve’s silent. He lets Eddie ramble, talking about Dustin, something called a Munson doctrine. He calls Steve a ‘good dude’ at which Steve hopes the sky is dark enough to hide his embarrassed flush.

Eddie says something about the girls jumping in to save him, but he leans in again when he says it, and all Steve can think about is how close he is, the light brush of Eddie’s knuckles against the back of his hand–

What…?

– and the comfort that settles over Steve when he catches Eddie smiling at him. They stop in unison, Eddie leans in close to whisper like it’s a secret.

“But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in.”

Eddie’s barely shorter than him, just enough that he looks up at Steve through his dark lashes, big, brown, puppy-dog eyes hooked onto his own. He knows guys can be handsome, but he thinks Eddie might be more pretty than handsome.

I’m sorry? What the fuck is happening back there!

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie says, low and slow. His voice full of honey that soaks into Steve’s brain, the actual words lost in the overwhelming sweetness of everything that is Eddie. “But if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re so pink and fluffy and biteable, so he leans in, like instinct tells him. Eddie looks surprised, but brushes his finger tips against Steve’s own. He whispers, “Steve…?” like it’s more revelation than question. Eddie’s so close that Steve just–

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steven?” Robin shouts, incredulous and much too loud. Eddie flinches away from him, hides behind his hair like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Steve’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

Disappointment? Wait. Did I almost just kiss–

“Eddie Munson?” Robin finishes his not-out-loud sentence.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks, nervous as the girl marches towards them, her eyes locked on Steve.

“Yes, Dingus!” Robin completely ignores Eddie’s response in favor of barreling up to Steve, finger so close to his face he goes cross-eyed. “Yes, you were, and oh my god I can’t believe you!”

Robs, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Can you please relax?

“You’re freaking out?” she shouts. Nancy shushes her, but it goes unnoticed. “I’m freaking out! After all this time, after Tammy fucking Thompson, this is happening right now? With– with– ” Robin wildly gestures to Munson. “Goddamn, Steve, you reek of sunflowers right now, oh my god! Just like when Joyce came into the store.”

It’s as dark as it always is, but a flash of red lighting illuminates the red painted across Eddie’s cheeks as he bites on his lip, looking nervous yet almost bashful as he pulls another larger strand of hair across his face.

“Sunflowers? What’s happening right now,” he whispers to Nancy, who shrugs. She answers with a casual, “I’m not sure, they do this a lot.”

“That’s not fair!” Steve quietly shouts back at her. “What’s wrong with–” he glances at Eddie, who flushes again. He’s so pale I bet he’s red down to his…

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Robin throws her hands over her ears and pinches her eyes closed.

Steve forces a smile to cover his gay panic. Shit, am I gay?

“No!” Robin slaps both her hands on either side of his head, mushing his cheeks together. “You’re not g–” she mushes her mouth shut, catching her slip-up just before it tumbled out of her. “And that’s not what that kind of panic means, so don’t call it that.”

“Panic?” Eddie asks, stepping towards them. His eyes are trained on Steve, flashing down to his lips, then back up to catch his gaze. Steve sees something like hope buried beneath Eddie’s tough guy demeanor. “But I thought–” he glances at Nancy before quickly looking away.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, and Eddie backs off a bit. Except his look doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Me?” Nancy asks. “What about me?”

Robin, don’t–

But it’s too late, because at that question, everyone turns to look at Steve.

Over the past few months, Steve’s started growing out his hair. It’s not really in style, but he’s seen a few guys with long hair, and they looked really good. Right now, he wishes it was long enough so he could hide behind it like Eddie. But, then again, he’d also tried growing a mustache, since Freddy Mercury had amazing style– Steve’s always like Queen.

Except my mustache never looked as good as his, so I bet long hair wouldn’t either. Maybe the short hair helps highlight it, like his cheekbones.

Jesus Christ, you’re so obvious. I can crack Russian spy code phrases enough to break into an underground military base but apparently I can’t spot a bisexual within five feet of me.

Steve sighs, dragging his hands down his face at Robin’s inside-mind rambling. Nancy, however, takes it to mean something much different. “Oh, Steve, no.” Her voice is pitying and too nice and it reminds him painfully of the last few months of their relationship. Like she’s talking to a child. “Steve, I’m so sorry, but– I still love Jonathan.”

“I know, Nance, that’s not–”

“Are you kidding me, Wheeler?” Eddie screeches. Steve really doesn’t understand how they’re so lucky that they haven’t been hunted down and eaten by now. 

Eddie’s thrown his hands up in the air, all theatrics as he gawks at her. She backs off, surprised, but quickly recovers and squints her eyes at him, crossing her arms as he continues to ramble. 

“After everything that’s happened? Steve ripping off his sweater, jumping out of the boat and beating a bat to death, then biting its head off, all while soaking wet. I mean, the way he spit that blood out.” Nancy cringes, and yeah, Steve feels the same way, knows he'll be tasting that black sludge in his nightmares. 

Now that’s gay panic.

I thought that’s not what that means, Rob

Ugh, I regret teaching you things.

Eddie’s still on a roll. “He was so… I mean,” Eddie throws his arms out towards Steve, showing him off like he’s a prized cow, “look at him, Wheeler! And you’re picking Byers?”

To Steve’s surprise, the glowering ferocity in Nancy’s face morphs into a coy smile, eyebrows raised in question to an answer she’s already figured out. Because that’s how Nancy Wheeler, journalist extraordinaire, gets her story. She reads people.

Before Eddie well and truly freaks out at the turn in Nancy’s demeanor, she winks at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Joyce Byers?” She giggles and rolls her eyes. 

Then, in a mortifying turn of events, Nancy pulls a strand of her brown, curly hair in front of her face, forces her eyes open, doe-eyed and almost brown under the dark sky, looking up at him through her lashes, then darts her gaze to Eddie. 

Ha! You have a type! Wait, how did Nancy clock you faster than–

“Okay!” It bursts from Steve’s chest, loud enough it shocks the rest of them. They stand quiet, listening to the mundane noises around them, and breathe a sigh of relief at the resounding silence. “This has been fun, really, but why don’t we all just keep going so we can get the hell out of here and go find my– I mean our– no, the little shits.”

This is why they call you mom.

“I’m not a goddamn mom, Robin, how many damn times do I have to tell you guys that?”

“If you’re mommy, does that mean I’m daddy?” The words slip through Eddie’s mouth and, unfortunately, bury themselves into Steve’s brain. Now Steve’s not sure who’s blush is hotter, his or Eddie’s. He’d guess maybe Eddie’s, judging by the way the man grabs Nancy’s arm and hauls her away at a half sprint. 

She laughs at him, lighthearted, and slings her arm through his as they walk side by side. Steve watches as she leans her head towards Eddie’s whispering something into his ear that finally has the man’s shoulder’s relaxing. He bumps his shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture.

Robin turns to look at Steve, really look, with sad, concerned eyes and a twist to her mouth.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It just caught me off guard I guess.

Steve places a light kiss on her dirty forehead. She smiles, grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes once.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[phntmeii]

Slashers and Hanahaki Disease

[SFW + No Gendered Terms]

Hanahaki Disease: A fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies.

Characters: Poly!Ghostface(Billy Loomis, Stu Macher), PreMichael!Corey Cunningham, Hannibal Lecter(TV Ver.), Jason Voorhees, RZ!Michael Myers

General Warnings: Mainly fluffy w/ happy endings, Mentions of death, Mentions of vomiting/gagging

A/N: Half the listed characters will have Hanahaki disease while the other half the reader has Hanahaki disease. Some other notes, I sped up how quickly Hanahaki affects people to a few weeks at max and included what type of flower I think would best fit in these situations :) Most are related to heartbreak, loss, death/rebirth, unrequited love.

Poly!Ghostface - Billy Loomis and Stu Macher

Flower Type: Purple Hyacinth

You had taken some days off of class, feeling too sick to go. Your parents didn’t believe you but you looked the definition of ill.

And heartbreak was just the cherry on top for you. Whether you had feelings for Billy or for Stu was already confusing but on top of that, you felt like you weren’t either of their types.

You had seen the people they went out with over the years and you were just never like them. Your own love life was failure after failure but it's not like they were offering themselves up in their place.

You were just the bestfriend in your mind. That’s all. And soon enough, violet petals were being thrown up into the toilet bowl every few hours and you could feel your lungs filling, getting hard to breathe over time.

Both Billy and Stu thought it was weird you skipped class. You’d at least give a heads up beforehand. Billy was more worried than Stu was.

He visited through your window at night to check in on you just to catch you in a pile of violet flowers across your bed covers while you laid there, casually watching a movie while you occasionally coughed some more up.

“What the fuck is that? Are you okay? Me and Stu thought you up and died.”

Looking over, you gave a weak smile in response. “Feels like I am.”

Soon you heard some clanging from the window Billy came in from and found Stu stumbling in, nearly knocking some things down before he hopped back up.

Stu gave a goofy smile as he held up some bottles before Billy looked at him with unamused eyes and snatched the bottles out of his hands as if to say, “Not now.”

Sitting down with you, asking what was wrong. You tried to explain but it sounded so silly. Throwing up flowers? And for seemingly no reason.

“Well… There’s diseases that are caused by stress? You think it’s something like that? Come on. You’ve been acting like shit for the past few weeks.”

You sat there between them and could think of one main thing but… How stupid that sounded. You didn’t want to say it.

Stu shook your shoulders playfully before getting smacked in the back of the head by Billy. “Come on! Tell us! What’s so embarrassing~?”

You sighed and reluctantly explained. You had a crush on them—your bestfriends—and you were definitely not their type. You were completely embarrassed, covering your mouth as you coughed up a few more violet petals.

Billy and Stu stared at each other after you said that, as if silently communicating to one another. Billy slowly smirked while Stu started laughing and wrapped his arms around you from the side.

“Seriously?! Holy shit, dude! You seriously haven’t noticed we were totally into you too?!”

You couldn’t even process what Stu said with how tight he squeezed you with his hug. By the time you finally noticed, you were once again distracted when you felt two different hands holding your jaw as Billy leaned in from one side while Stu leaned in the other and kissed your cheeks.

“ We’ve been into you forever…” Those small words felt like they made room within your lungs again.

PreMichael!Corey Cunningham

Flower Type: Red Salvia

Corey had met you in passing and you didn’t mind becoming friends with him. He was an awkward nerd and it was a trait you found charming to be friends with.

But to Corey, it was hell when he discovered the petals that soon formed and flew out of his mouth.

He had developed a crush on you immediately when he met you. You were simultaneously his heaven and hell. Someone so nice to him and yet the reason he found it harder and harder to breathe.

He avoided you for a week or so. He was so used to self-isolating himself when something went wrong. Deal with it himself as he always did.

Corey figured it was connected to you. It started the day after he felt those feelings rise in him. To make sure, he visited the doctor’s and found the term: Hanahaki Disease. And it was because of you.

He didn’t want to say anything about it. His fate was sealed in his eyes. But… maybe?

He decided to send a text to meet up. Better to talk about it in person even if it made him nervous to.

“Hey… I- I really didn’t want to y’know bother you or anything-“ “Corey, you don’t bother me. It’s alright. What is it?”

Corey shyly looked down and smiled to himself. God, it hurt to think that you wouldn’t like him. You were so perfect for him.

“I know this is gonna sound weird and if I'm honest I thought it was weird too. I-I’m… dying. From uh… Not having requited love...” As if on queue, he coughed, revealing red petals flying out of his mouth to the ground.

You were obviously immediately worried. To hear such heavy words from Corey made your heart drop. You had to ask who. Maybe he could still convince them to share the same feelings.

Corey scratched the back of his head, looking away. He didn’t want to say it. Especially since he didn’t want to leave you with the news that it was because of you that he had an expiration date coming soon.

“It’s… you. It’s always been you.”

A few whole Red Salvia flowers came out of his mouth after the confession. He grew increasingly embarrassed, wanting to take back his words already. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Just let his life take its course and end quick without you knowing.

But then, those moments of silence were interrupted by you approaching and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His lips were slightly chapped from nerves and his overthinking made him think he should’ve done something about them sooner but he was more focused on how soft you felt. His heart swelled at the touch while his hands went to your cheeks, deepening the kiss further out of pure need.

Hannibal Lecter

Flower Type: Red Spider Lily

Hannibal was not one to ever be sick. It rarely happened, if ever. He took care of his health perfectly.

When he started to feel himself grow ill, he immediately knew something was wrong. Coughing was one thing but it was a completely different thing to find himself feeling the urge to vomit and finding flowers fly out of his mouth.

Staring at the red flowers in the toilet bowl, he already knew it wasn’t something normal. In fact, he already knew what it was.

The knowledgeable man he was, Hanahaki was a term that came to mind but with a sense of confusion.

He didn’t necessarily care for people like others did. His “care” for other people was a mask of feigned empathy. Not real.

But if he had this disease, something was different. And it was love of all things? It complicated everything.

There was only one person that came to mind that could possibly fit the supposed feeling he felt: You. His patient.

He kept it hidden still. Suffering in silence because falling in love was not something he was interested in. It would cloud his emotions.

And yet, he began asking about your love life during your sessions. Previous relationships, expectations of love, etc. A collection of information to mold himself into what you wanted.

He invited you over for dinners more and presented you with flowers each session. Each bouquet with meaning and cleanly composed together.

You were his muse. The focus of his musical compositions and the focus of his sketches when he had free time.

His eyes even sparkled softly toward you sometimes if you looked close enough.

But Hannibal knew his days were numbered and he had to say something before the flowers filled his lungs and killed him.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it. His vomiting became more frequent and he could feel how difficult it was to breathe.

After one of your dinners with him and he was walking you to the door, he stopped you. Taking your chin between his fingers, he gently tilted your face to look at him.

“My dear… Please indulge me in my desire for you. It’s grown insatiable.”

He started to lean in toward your lips. He’d memorized the shape a thousand times over through his sketches by now. Each quick line put to paper was a written wish to feel them on his own. “I’ll grow mad without knowing what you taste like.”

His eyes met yours when he was centimeters away from your lips, breath mixing into one another’s. “Tell me you wish the same.”

His eyes looked to you with a slight desperation to them. Once he received the confirmation, that soft whisper of a “Yes…”, he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and felt like life had been breathed into him.

Jason Voorhees

Flower Type: Lily of the Valley

Jason hadn't thought about romance much in his life, not thinking he'd be fortunate to experience it. He thought he had a face only his mother could love after all.

Finding you, you were never mean to him. If anything, you were solely kind to him and he was happy at the treatment.

Then worry set in when he noticed you weren't coming to the cabin as often. You usually visited and left some meals for him and candles to dedicate to his mother.

He worried heavily. Jason automatically believed he was in the wrong. Maybe he had scared you or had done something wrong. He was never good at social cues or interacting with people.

He sat there, waiting for you to come back. You wouldn't completely leave right? Or maybe something happened to you? What if you were dead?

Jason could only find his worries settled when he heard footsteps and saw you again. He immediately rushed out and hugged you.

He signed, "Where have you been?? I was so worried!"

Jason noticed you seemed paler than normal and you looked exhausted. "Are you okay? Are you sick?"

He didn't know how to take care of someone who was sick. His mother always took care of him. But he was willing to try.

"I... Yeah. I'm sick, Jason. I've been sick for a week or so now. Vomiting and all."

You couldn't see his expression but he was certainly concerned. He placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'll take care of you."

Whether you wanted to or not, Jason was already dragging you inside and sitting you down. He didn't know how to help, only that he wanted to help.

That's when you coughed and small white petals flew out of your mouth and into your lap. Jason tilted his head at that. Flowers? He had never heard of someone coughing up flowers before.

Jason forcibly kept you in the cabin until you could get better. You were his only friend. The only one who treated him like a person. He didn't want to lose that.

Few days pass and nothing. Petals had become full flowers with stems needing to be yanked out. You gagged each time you had to rip out the flower by its stem.

You thought you might die. A sickness you had never heard of along with it getting quickly worse? You couldn't help but recognize where this was going.

You laid beside Jason at night. He was attached to the hip with you in your stay. You figured now was a better time than never saying it at all.

You took his hand into yours, something that made Jason give you his full attention. "Jason. I just wanted you to know that... I love you. I need you to know that."

Jason could feel his heart jolt at that confession. It was said in a more sad tone than a happy one but all the same, it was the words said that mattered. "Do you mean it? Are you sure?"

Nodding your head with a weak smile, you placed a kiss on the cheek of his mask. Jason could feel his face heat up at that. No one had ever treated him like that before.

He grabbed your hands, maybe a bit too strong in his grasp, as he signed rapidly in excitement. "I love you too. You're the only one who likes me. I want you to stay. Please."

You felt slight pain in your lungs as the stems that had begun taking root in them slowly retracted and dissipated. He was your cure.

RZ!Michael Myers

Flower Type: White Rose

Michael had inhabited your home for some time. He needed a home base to return to when he wasn’t stalking for victims.

You couldn’t say much against it, fearing you’d be next. And he wasn’t the worst guest?

Besides blood needing to be cleaned, he was silent. You could barely even notice him there if it wasn’t for his giant size.

Over time, you noticed how he grew closer to you. Literally. He loomed over you while you cooked or cleaned. You’d get jumpscared by how you’d turn a corner and see him standing there. He also started preventing you from leaving if he was there.

Michael would stand in front of the door, staring you down until you understood to stay home. Seeing you listen, he gave the most affection he’d ever show: patting your head.

And you grew an odd attachment to him. You’d worry if he was out for too long and worried if he ever came back injured.

You two were attached. In what way, you couldn’t answer that question but you didn’t mind being close to him. Even if he never showed affection or attachment, you knew he felt something. Otherwise, you would’ve been dead already.

Michael never spoke nor gave indication of what he was feeling ever. You could only ever notice the extremes. And when you noticed Michael in his room for longer than normal, you wanted to help even if he always pushed you away.

You knocked but no answer. Knocked twice and still nothing. You took that as a “no entry” and sadly turned away.

Right as you did, the door opened and Michael looked to you with his same deadpan stare you always knew. His hands littered with white rose petals. You didn’t understand until he coughed again, more petals coming out.

You didn’t know how to react to it other than to grow concerned. His hands dropped the petals and grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them. His eyes looked to you and for the first time, there was a slight hint of fear there.

It was odd to see such a large man who had survived hell and back to show fear now. You guided him to the couch, wanting him to feel comfortable.

You grabbed his hand, forgetting how he was a murderer, forgetting how his hands were responsible for the deaths of so many. “Michael…”

He exhaled in response, looking at you through the strands of hair covering his face. He forcibly grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. Ending up in his lap, he held onto you, still silently staring. He buried his head in your chest, squeezing you tight. He didn’t want to let go.

You let your arms hold him to you, caressing the back of his head. You placed a small kiss to the top of his head.

“Michael… It’s okay. I’m here.”

Michael couldn’t take finally having an affectionate touch after so long. Restraint was something he never knew and letting himself have an ounce of it was like opening Pandora’s box. He pulled away and slammed his lips into yours. He pushed you down on the couch, placing his hands on either side of your face, trapping you there.

And yet, you didn’t deny him. You matched his desperate, sloppy kiss. And Michael could feel the air in his lungs return only to be immediately used from his kissing and grunting. And you knew where this was going when you felt his slight runting against your leg.

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

[astraystayyh]

skz quotes series masterlist

these are the fics i am currently working on, where the quote is part of the dialogue or it inspired the fic as a whole!! brainstorming these was very fun, i hope you'll enjoy reading it <3 2/8 done.

chan x reader. soulmates!au. strangers to lovers.

in a world where you can only see colors once you meet your designated soulmate, you already know that you and chan weren't destined for another. but maybe, just maybe, the stars were wrong about you both.

"on purpose. i love him on purpose." - Casey Mcquinston.

Echoes of love- minho x reader. lovers to (one sided) strangers. memory loss trope. [posted]

if given the choice to, would you love minho again? yes, you would've once said in a heartbeat. but now, you aren't sure of your response anymore.

"to love someone is to firstly confess, I'm prepared to be devastated by you." - Billy-Ray Belcourt.

changbin x reader. fwbs with so much emotional and physical tension.

things were clear and simple between you and changbin- a strictly physical relationship with no strings attached. until those same threads bursted at the seams, making you question everything you thought you knew about him.

"if i kissed you right now, i don't think I'd be able to stop." - unknown. & "please forget your scarf in my life and come back later for it" - Mikko Harvey

hyunjin x reader. art students. forced proximity. slow burn. hanahaki disease!au.

working on an assigned art project for three months with hyunjin is an easy task, right? not so much when you're both exactly what the other is afraid of, and simultaneously, terribly longing for.

"f i loved you less i might be able to talk about it more." - Jane Austen.

Volcano- han x reader. enemies to friends to lovers. uni au. [posted]

you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. it's rotten work. not to me, not if it's you." - Anne Carson.

felix x reader. exes to lovers. second chances. [au is yet to be determined]

in which you meet your ex felix years down the road, and you realize that maybe, just maybe, the love never truly deserted your heart.

"for a while it was love, wasn't it? for me, it was love." - Unknown.

seungmin x reader. best friends to lovers with a taste of unrequited love.

seungmin believed he was content with only being your friend. of being the one picking up pieces of you that others carelessly broke. but in the depths of his bruised heart, he desperately needed you to stitch him back together, for once.

"oh god, please. please. love me. love me. desperation sits heavy on my tongue." - a.m.

jeongin x reader. strangers to lovers.

jeongin hated the commute he took daily from his hometown to his work in Seoul. Until the day you stepped in the train and sat on the seat facing him, changing his view of this train ride, and his life.

"on the train we swapped seats, you wanted the window and i wanted to look at you." - Mahmoud Darwish

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

the taglist for this series is closed, there is no set schedule nor a particular order. comment or send me an ask if you want to be added. (general taglist is also open :))

p.s: if u happen to know whose the owner of these quotes, please tell me. most of them come from tiktok slideshows ajdjdh

[eldritch-nightmare]

slashers with hanahaki.

a/n: icb this took me like 2 months to finish omg anyways hanahaki is not a trope i personally enjoy but i like writing angst and i think it's an interesting concept and this is. honestly just an excuse to write amanda angst, actually. uhm. first post about slashers :thumbs up: might take time for me to get used to writing them tbh, so this might be short but!! i hope you enjoy it all nonetheless. ignore how long ethan's is. amanda comes with her own special bot so <3 enjoy tht if u use it.

includes: amanda young, quinn bailey, tiffany valentine, billy loomis, bo sinclair, and ethan landry.

warnings: gn!reader, angst, many mentions of vomit and coughing, blood, implied unrequited love (esp in bo's), randomly assigned flowers plucked out of my flower book.

AMANDA YOUNG

If there's one thing about Amanda that isn't hard to miss, it's the fact that she gets very jealous, very easily. It was obvious in the way she almost constantly glared at Lynn whenever the woman was in her line of sight, the way she held no kindness in her voice whenever the two were forced to speak to each other.

Well... it was obvious to John, at least. Even in the state that he was in, the man was nothing if not observant, and he certainly didn't miss the way Amanda's gaze would linger on you and Lynn. He didn't miss the way she would come up with random things for you to do, things that involved you keeping a distance from Lynn.

What John isn't aware of, however, is the fact that each time Amanda goes off alone, it's to cough and vomit up the flowers blooming inside of her. She loves you so much that she can't even be angry when she stares down at the bloodied petals of lavender in her hand as she gasps for breath.

This is her punishment, she thinks. It's her curse, one she'll keep to herself. She loves you, but she doesn't deserve you. If you get too close to her, if she shows that she cares for you, you'll die. They always do, and you're the one person she can't stand to lose.

So she'll keep this to herself. She'll diligently wash the blood off the petals in her hand and she'll put them with the rest, tucked away safely for no one but her to see. She'll let her love be a secret, even if her jealousy boils over.

QUINN BAILEY

Romance isn't something Quinn cares for. She's not interested in falling in love since it doesn't align with her goals of wanting to get revenge for her brother's murder. And you, the best friend of Samantha Carpenter, were meant to be another victim. The plan was to kill you in front of Sam, just to inflict a little extra trauma on her.

But that's not how things were turning out. The more time she spent with you, pretending to be friends with people she planned on killing, the more attached she was starting to become. It was small at first, something she could push aside at any given moment. But you just had to be nice to her.

With everything going on, everyone was always worrying over Sam or Tara, but during it all, you had pulled her to the side to ask how she was handling everything, asking if she was okay. And suddenly, it became harder to push those feelings aside, and camellia petals started forcing their way out of her throat whenever she coughed.

This didn't go unnoticed either, by her family or her 'friends', but she always brushed their concerns off. It's just a little cough, no big deal. But it wasn't. Your time to die was coming up, and Quinn was the one who was supposed to kill you. But now she's hesitating, her mind working a mile a minute to come up with a way for you to get out of this alive without risking everything else.

She loves you, as much as she loathes to admit it. She doesn't want to be in love, especially knowing you'll never love her back once you find out who she truly is.

TIFFANY VALENTINE

Pretty much everyone who knows Tiffany knows about her feelings for you. It's not something she bothers to hide, and even she's surprised that you aren't aware of the love that she has for you. Or maybe you're just pretending like you're oblivious? She certainly hopes not.

Either way, the first time she coughs a flower up, she feels... well... she wasn't upset. In her eyes, it was further proof of how much she truly adored you. The petals of pansies that she coughed up were always tucked away in a jar. She probably has like... 4-5 jars full of petals by this point.

She doesn't blame you for any of this either. It's not your fault that she fell in love with you! How could she not? You're you. Anyone could love you. She'd kill them if they did, of course, but her point still stands.

Of course, she's not an idiot. She knows what this means. The constant pain in her throat and the feeling of vomiting up blood and flowers is nothing compared to the pain of knowing you more than likely don't love her back. But it's a pain she's willing to bear if it means having you in her life.

And Tiffany is just... fairly confident that given enough time and patience, you'll love her back, one day. She could (and probably should) give up on you, she knows that, but she doesn't want to. Not yet.

BILLY LOOMIS

Love is not something that comes easily for Billy. He's damn good at faking it, but he tends to disappear the moment he starts feeling like he actually might be growing to love someone. But loving you? It was as easy as breathing, he didn't even notice he had fallen until the roses started falling from his lips. How cliché.

He's really... torn, to be honest, for many reasons. This little illness of flowers could potentially get in the way of his plans, first and foremost. It makes it a lot harder pretending to love Sydney when he starts hacking up stupid fucking rose petals whenever he thinks about you. And god forbid if he has a coughing fit when he's doing Ghostface business.

It's a pain to hide, but Billy is nothing if not determined. Not even Stu knows, that's how badly he wants to keep this a secret. It's not something he plans on hiding forever, of course. Once he's killed Sydney, he'll... probably get around to doing something about the roses piling up in a random shoebox in his room.

The thought of killing you certainly crossed his mind, don't get him wrong. It would probably be much easier having you dead than leaving you alive and dealing with this, but the moment he even processed the thought, he was falling out of bed from the sheer force of the coughing fit that hit him. It's the most roses he's ever thrown up at once, so. He threw that thought out almost immediately.

But he'll definitely play it off and act as if he isn't painfully pining for you if you ever find out about this little predicament. He's too prideful, too hesitant to ever fully commit to a person. The roses bloodied roses in the beat-up box are the closest he'll ever get to confessing his love to you.

BO SINCLAIR

Bo knew letting you live would bite him in the ass one of these days, he just wasn't expecting it to be like this. He knew he had a bit of a soft spot for you, though he loathed to admit it, even when his brothers give him knowing looks.

You just looked so damn perfect, all scared with tears streaming down your face. How could he not want to keep you around a little longer? He just didn't actually expect himself to grow attached. It was supposed to be a sadistic game, a way for him to torture you. Instead, he was the one being tortured.

Tortured by these damn flowers he keeps coughing up. He had to ask Lester what they were, though he obviously didn't mention why. Nobody was going to know about this, not Lester, not Vincent, and certainly not you. This was going to stay between him, and the bloodied petals of honeysuckle that he keeps hidden in the gas station.

He knew well enough that this little problem wasn't just going to go away so easily. Don't get him wrong, if he could kill you, he would. The thought alone is enough to keep him locked in a room, throwing up flowers until he sees dots in his vision. So clearly, he can't. He's undeniably stuck with you now, whether he likes it or not.

What's worse is he'll never have your love. Why would he? You'd be a fool to ever fall in love with him after everything he has put you through. He'll only ever have your fear.

ETHAN LANDRY

He wholeheartedly did not expect to fall in love, especially with someone inside Tara and Sam's friend group. What's worse is that it wasn't a 'normal' way of falling in love either. No, you stole his heart the moment you stabbed him while he was under the mask, growling out a threat so cruel, so gruesome, he was definitely going to steal it in the future.

The wild look in your eyes was a stark contrast to how you usually behaved, and that excited him. Honestly, how could he not fall in love with you after that? With Ghostface, you were aggressive, almost animalistic in the way you would fight for your life. With Ethan, you were concerned for his safety, even if you did eye him with suspicion like everyone else.

The flowers were annoying though, he can't lie. It's not fun coughing up tulips, especially when he's under the mask. It also makes it harder to hide his identity. Ethan honestly doesn't seem like he'd hide his coughing fits from you because he'd probably thrive under your concern. That means that if he slips up and has one when assuming the Ghostface persona, his identity is basically revealed and it ruins everything he and his family have been working for.

He'll make up excuses as to why you can't be killed. You're not even that close to Tara or Sam. Honestly, he wouldn't consider you to be part of the friend group, so your death wouldn't have any impact on them. You've unintentionally helped them with their plans by being Ethan's alibi whenever it wasn't him under the mask, so killing you just wouldn't make sense. He's not exactly the best at hiding his feelings for you.

And Ethan is well aware that given his second identity, he'll never have a chance with you. The moment the inevitable unmasking happens, he'll lose any kindness you may hold for him. That thought alone is enough to make the tulips force their way out of his throat, but he won't lie... it's exciting to think about how you might react once it's revealed that he's Ghostface.

[raven-cl]

Unfortunate lover boy who fell in love

[catzy88]

Butchlander Hanahaki Disease AU with Homelander who has always craved love, looking for it in all the wrong places, falling in love with his nemesis Billy Butcher who hates him and wants him dead. All the emotional hurt and angst in the world with Homelander's already unstable mental health declining further into deep depression and self-hatred. His physical health deteriorating slowly as well, because even the strongest supe alive isn't immune to the deadly flowers blooming inside him.

Butcher finds out and is gleeful, rubbing it in Homelander's face when they meet. Saying, that it's no wonder the supe has fallen victim to the sickness caused by one-sided love, because who could love a monster like him?

At this point Homelander is already quite far gone with the disease, and hearing the object of his love telling him that he's "an unlovable cunt" causes Homelander to start violently coughing and vomiting a blooming Trillium recurvatum. Looking up at Butcher with wide and terrified eyes, Homelander takes wobbly flight.

Naturally, Butcher doesn't recognize the crimson flower, coated with more crimson of Homelander's blood. But he takes a photo of the mess, and when he shows it to the Boys, they make a reverse image search.

Trillium recurvatum. Bloody Butcher.

And when all heads turn to look at Butcher, there's not much else to say than, "Fuck me", paired with a diabolical grin. Because Butcher just found a way to finally kill the worst supe cunt on Earth. And what a poetic way, too. Homelander destroyed the love of Butcher's life. Now Butcher's going to do the same to Homelander with his mere existence.

But a supe of Homelander's caliber doesn't succumb to any illness or ailment nearly as fast as a regular human would. So, there's a lot of time for Butcher to find more dirt about Vought, since getting rid of Homelander is only one part of dismantling the megacorporation.

So, one day searching an abandoded facility that looks like it had been a lab of some sort at one point, Butcher stumbles on a box with old VHS tapes simply named "John #001", "John #002", "John #003", and so on.

Butcher begins watching the first tape, where there's a small blond, blue-eyed baby that makes Butcher feel at unease. The feeling increases with every video as the child grows and is subjected to absolutely inhumane conditions and torture. And when the child finally gains blood red eyes, shooting lasers from them, there's no doubt about the child's identity anymore. John is Homelander.

Butcher's conflicted. Very conflicted. Because he has this image of Homelander as a ruthless and sick psychopath set in stone. But these videos have made his conviction waver.

So, after all the emotional hurt and angst (not depicted here, because I fail), there's a happy ending with Butcher having snatched Vought's crown jewel right under their nose, slowly warming up to the man known as John, finally returning his feelings, and becoming a real family with their son Ryan.