#the stem major's curse

[1o1percentmilk]

i don't even want to take half my classes that im registered for autumn quarter

[idontmindifuforgetme]

I remember back when I used to be the chill cool girl who didn’t take offense to anything and wasn’t hurt by anything and was nonchalant about everything and wasn’t bothered and didn’t care and was so chill and cool…….. thank god I healed

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

I've been looking for this one au where Len basically becomes a mad scientist and turns his friends into robots one by one for a while now, and I'm beginning to realize that I just read through your blog while half asleep a few months back and mixed together my memories of your flower hivemind and composite au

this is very funny to me. i'm absolutely honored this blog's posts were enough to evil-farming-game an entire vocaloid au into your memories 😂

i can give you this doodle; it's composite au but i'm sure it'd fit very well with this theoretical mad scientist len au lololl

[theamazingmaddyas]

So, I'm rereading Rick Riordan's entire discography (is that the word for books? Idk, I'm using it anyway) for the first time in 9 years, and I don't think little me fully comprehended how confusing Hazel's age is. I think I just accepted things at face value, but now I can't stop thinking about it, so this is inaccuracies I found in SON (as that is what I'm on) about Hazel's age, because I need to talk about it before I spontaneously combust.

Hazel's last birthday (her 13th) is said to be December 17, 1941, but she came to camp before Jason disappeared circa October the year prior to SON, which means she spent a December 17 at camp.

Even if she didn't count that birthday, as she died in circa Juneish (As it had been six months since they left New Orleans) and returned in late August, early September (This is completely an estimation. Hazel arrived at camp jupiter pre-Jason disappearance with enough time that the two considered each other friends, and Hazel went the Wolf House first, which would mean she couldn't return in October, but the earliest had to be late August as the doors of death opened after the war which ended on August 18th) which isn't a full year since her last birthday, by SON she'd lived over 365 days from that birthday.

Hazel died in late June, so that would make her approximately 13½ at the time of her death, which is about 183 days (actually it is 182.5 because 1942 was not a leap year, but I'm rounding), or 6 months. If she came back from the dead in early September, that would be a little less than 10 months returned by the SON, which takes place between June 20 and June 24th. That would make Hazel's physical age 14 years and 4 months come the exact number date she returned.

Next confusing thing is that Hazel explicitly states that Frank is 3 years older than her, which also makes zero sense. Frank's sixteenth birthday was about two weeks pre-SON (Rick Riordan gave him the birthday June 5th, so that is what we will be using for these calculation). Even if Hazel had returned from the dead the literal day of SON beginning (which she didn't), the two would still only be 2½ years apart, as Hazel died at 13½. But as aforementioned, Hazel physically could not be 13 as she has been alive over 365 days since her last birthday. Meaning Hazel and Frank, maximum, could be 2 years apart, though probably less since Hazel's a few months past 14.

In conclusion, Rick Riordan doesn't know math made a few mistakes regarding Hazel's age, and I didn't remember it being this bad from when I was a kiddo but now I could write an entire thesis on Hazel's age and how his mistake impacts readers assumptions on Hazel's character and Frazel as a ship.

[soundsliketeenspirits]

tate and violet but its 1995 and they live in adjacent apartments. tate (who has never been influenced by evil shit, thank you very much) has just moved out of his mom's house. he's subleasing half of a little 2-bed place for cheap and his roommate is some rich college fucker that sells coke to freshmen. tate "honest worker" langdon keeps getting fired from customer service jobs.

violet's parents are freshly divorced, with her mom having moved back east and her father staying in LA. she's fresh out of junior year and has been guilt-tripped into visiting ben for the summer (its how vivian keeps her for all major holidays) with the promise of touring colleges.

they meet outside on their way-too-close little balconies one night and get along like a house on fire. violet eventually starts climbing over the railings to sit on his porch in the saucer chair he dragged from his room just for her (its navy blue to match the giant beanbag chair that's already permanent fixture). they're four floors up and this scares the shit out of them both but they play it cool. august sees them up til 2am every night for a week, high as shit and watching tv in his bed, just in time for violet to go back to boston for the fall.

[awberryy]

hey guys :) I wrote fanfiction and actually published it!

[myfictionaldreams]

so glad you’re back! happy new year!! please could you write poly!marauders where reader is feeling clingy and needy in the evening? like she’s just melting into the boys, wearing their clothes and they love every second if it.

Not Today, Please. // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: Why is it fair that every month, you have to experience agony for multiple days at a time? The boys hate seeing you suffer with your period and take it upon yourself to try and make you as comfortable as possible.

Requested by: I've mixed together a request from this lovely anon & @f1ct1onallove. Thank you both for your requests!

Tags: 18+ readers only, minimal smut, fluff, domestic bliss, menstruation, magical orgasm, comfort, kissing/cuddling, overall just cuteness

Words: 2.9k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It was an off day. It was normal. Everyone experienced them from time to time.

Today. You felt like complete and utter shit.

There wasn’t a major catastrophe that had happened for your day to be going this negatively, a surprising thought considering that you’re attending Hogwarts, which seemed to be renowned for its trouble occasionally. To be truthful, you were experiencing a mundane situation.

You’d started your period the day before. It was a typical event for those with a uterus. However, it was your second day of ‘hell’, which was usually your worst.

Agonising pain stemming from your abdomen, creeping to the muscles down your thighs, followed up nausea and exhaustion, irritability, and hunger that never seemed to fade, no matter the amount of food scoffed. Not to mention the absolute chaos from the blood that was lost that left you feeling in a constant state of dirty and ill.

Yet, despite all of this, life was expected to continue. Unfortunately, this included attending lessons, sitting in uncomfortable desks and chairs, and walking from one end of the immense castle to the next with minimal time to stop for breaks and lunch.

Sometimes, you cursed the fact that you were born with a uterus, and then the second you ceased bleeding, you were back to normal, but those few days were the pure definition of Hell.

One small detail to note was that, of course, you attend the hospital wing and have Madam Pomfrey create a concoction to aid with all of your symptoms. However, after attempting this multiple times, the only potion strong enough to work made you feel zoned out, disorientated and useless for the rest of the day. It was great before bed, but it did not mix well with tasks on a day-to-day basis.

This all leads to your current predicament of standing in a hidden corridor in the castle. Only a single lamp illuminated the cobweb-ridden walls. Not that you were paying attention to this, as your eyes were firmly shit. All you were concentrating on was controlling your breathing as another wave of pain flared in your abdomen.

Swaying on the spot, your fingers pressed firmly into the area that hurt, hoping to massage the ache away, but the way that your nose began to tingle with the threat of the tears building behind your closed eyes, nothing seemed to be helping.

One more lesson, that was all you had left for the day. Charms with Professor Flitwick and being the model student, it would be noted if you decided to skip. Instead, you chose to take these last few minutes before class to try and cope with the pain before sitting for the next hour in the same seat.

Another cramp ached through your lower body, causing your knees to tremble as you tried to do anything but fall to the floor.

A shuffle from the far end of the corridor had your pulse racing and nose sniffing as you tried to control your emotions, forcing the fake mask into place before anyone saw it.

Leaning away from the wall you were facing, you turned and immediately bumped face-first into a firm chest. The calming cedarwood scent notified you whose arms surrounded your back, a hand cradling your head soothingly as small circles were drawn on your lower back.

“I need to get better at this hide-and-seek game”, you try and joke as you tightly grip the back of his sweater, breathing him in entirely as the top of his head rests on yours.

Remus’ chest vibrates as he laughs under his breath, holding you tighter. “Maybe we should pick a better game, considering I have a little help in my back pocket”. Frowning, your fingers slip lower until they’re cupping his arse, half groping, half feeling for what he was referring to until you feel the parchment paper.

“That’s cheating using the Marauders Map to find me”, you muse whilst tilting your face up to look up at him. Remus always towered over you; even when you decided to dress up in heels, he continued to be the tallest in the room. Remus’ kind green eyes softened as he looked down at you, the hand cupping the back of your head and sliding to hold the side of your face.

“I’m worried about you”, he admits, cutting right to the chase. “I know you’re in pain, and I hate that you feel like you have to hide it”. You couldn’t help but sigh, knowing there was nothing that you could hide from either of your boyfriends.

“It’s not that I’m trying to hide anything; I just needed a minute to compose myself before class. Speaking of which, we are going to be late- Ah”, the gasp of pain is slipping out before you’re able to clamp your mouth shut. Resting your head against his chest, he holds you close whilst you wait for the pain to ease.

“Sorry, it’s easing slightly now. We can carry on,” you explain, pulling away from him to take his hand with the intention of continuing to class.

However, you’re pulled back as your boyfriend stands still, looking at you with a positive twink in his eyes that had you both weary and intrigued. “Firstly, never apologise for being in pain. Secondly, the class has been cancelled; that’s another reason why I’ve come to find you.”

“Class is never cancelled, what’s happened?”

Remus finally begins to move, only stepping toe to toe with you. “Something about Flitwick being unwell. I’m not sure, but we have other plans now”.

You aren’t sure whether to be buzzing with relief that you are expected to go to your last class of the day or be concerned with the plans Remus and the others have. The Gryffindor parties that your boyfriends and friends put on were infamous throughout the castle for how wild they were, but today, all you wanted to do was rot in bed with some chocolate and preferably your boyfriends wrapped around you.

Remus sensed your trepidation and lifted his free hand to tip your chin towards him, “Don’t look so worried. I promise you’ll like it. Come on”.

Reluctantly, you follow with one arm wrapped around your abdomen as Remus holds firmly onto your hands, and your thumb absentmindedly rubs over the thin silver scars on the back of his hands. It didn’t take long before you realised the area of the destination was the Room of Requirement. The longer you walked, the more you found yourself leaning into him, savouring his warm and firm grip on your hand until you were aware of how needy you appeared. Still, Remus didn’t seem to mind and occasionally leaned down to kiss the top of your head affectionally. 

As the two of you approached the room of requirement, you paused and said, “Wait, I’m not sure I want to go to a party tonight, Remus. Could we please go back to the common room? Or could I just go and wait for you guys in bed?”

Remus gives you a reassuring smile, pulling the two of you along the corridor before stopping by a door as it materialises in the wall. “I promise you’ll love this”.

Still filled with uncertainty and expecting loud music and shouting from a crowd, you’re pleasantly surprised when you’re welcomed into the most comfortable-looking room you’ve ever seen. Jazz played at a quiet volume from somewhere in the corner, and a raging fire thoroughly warmed the room covered in pillows, blankets, armchairs, and stools.

Your jaw hung open as you admired every inch of the room, your eyes lingering on the ceiling as you admired, “Is the ceiling made of glass?” As you stared at the sky, your eyes widened, a beautiful orange and red hue like a sunset.

“Not quite”, James began as he appeared from under a pile of purple fluffy blankets, his cheeks blushed with rose and lips plump as Sirius sat up too, looking just as dishevelled. “It’s the same spell used in the Great Hall; it just reflects the sky outside”.

“It’s beautiful”, you muse, stepping further into the room and releasing Remus’ hand as he shuts the door behind you. “Who did this? That’s pretty advanced magic - Ah!” You squeal in surprise as you’re taken off your feet and spun around on the spot.

“Merlin, be careful with her prongs!” You hear Sirius chastise as he, too, approaches, but you don’t mind James’ antics as you cling to the excitable man, breathing him in.

“I’ve noticed something; I find it funny that even though Sirius’ animagus is the dog, and yet James is the one who acts like an excitable Puppy”, Remus points out whilst slinging an arm around Sirius’ shoulder.

“Hey-!” James begins as he carefully places you back on the floor and turns to his boyfriend to reprimand him. However, he is cut off as Sirius steps forward, gripping his cheeks together until James’ lips purse out so he can kiss them quickly.

“Aw, my little puppy”, Sirius jests before repeating the kissing action with you with a more tender, gentle touch, and you lean into it desperately. “Welcome to your wonderful evening of fun, Darling”.

“Thank you! This is amazing, boys!” you exclaim whilst looking around the room and trying to decide where to rest first, but then a thought came to you: where would you go to the bathroom? As soon as you are finished thinking that thought, a door appears in the corner of the room. Stepping away from your boyfriends, you explain, “I’m just going to use the bathroom. Do you have any spare comfortable clothes I could change into?”

James grins as he reaches for some folded-up clothes you’d missed, and a sense of belonging and comfort fills your heart as you see it includes his shirt. Cleaning up, you’re now in leggings and James’ old quidditch shirt, feeling refreshed yet cosy.

Returning to the room, you momentarily forget about your current circumstances. You admire your three boyfriends as they lounge in front of the fire, casually talking with one another but sharing grins as you walk back towards them. Except reality comes crashing back as another wave of cramps ruins your uterus.

Massaging your abdomen as you double over, you can hear Sirius swear loudly before clambering over the cushions to get to you but stops a foot away, his hands hovering over your shoulders but not touching. Needing comfort, you reach for him, mainly collapsing into him as you wait for the pain to subside.

As it does, you relish the touch of his strokes down the centre of your back as he begins to explain his actions: “Sorry, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to touch you. I know I get overstimulated when I’m in pain, and people touch me, so I didn’t want to grab you if you just needed a minute.”

Warmth spreads through your chest at his consideration, and you squeeze him tighter as you tiredly say, “You can always touch me”. His eyes reflect the mischief in his smile at the tone you say the words, but he laughs it off as you try to hide your face in his chest.

“Come on, you perv, let’s get you comfortable”. Following closely beside him, Sirius takes you to where the other two are resting in front of the fire.

“I’m going to get us some food and drinks”, James explains as he stands, kissing your lips carefully before leaving the three of you. As you lie down amongst the pillows and blankets, your head resting against Sirius’ chest, more pain and nausea hit you.

It’s Remus’ turn to give you a chaste kiss before standing and making his way towards the exit, explaining he would go and get the potion from Madam Pompfrey. This left you and Sirius to be close together. And close together is precisely what you needed.

The thumping of his heart as you rested your cheek against his chest was comforting. Your fingers rested over his stomach, but the need to be even closer came over you. Your fingers slipped beneath his jumper to rest against his soft skin. Sirius hummed in contentment at the touch as his fingers carefully massaged your abdomen to relieve the ache. 

Sucking in a breath as more pain takes over, Sirius shifts so he’s looking down at you with concern etched across his face, the shoulder-length hair falling into his eyes. 

“Are you warm enough? Do you want my jumper?”

“I mean, I’m not going to say no, " you drawl tiredly, watching intently as he reached behind his head, pulled his jumper off, and began to help it on. You’re immediately surrounded by everything Sirius, his warmth and smell making you feel like you’re in your own personal corner of heaven. His arms are back around you as soon as you’re comfortable, but you can tell he’s still thinking hard. As much as Sirius pretends to be mysterious, you can read his face like an open book. “What is it?”

“I’ve heard from somewhere that orgasms help with period cramps”, he remarks casually whilst continuing to massage the pain away. You couldn’t help but give him a deadpan look.

“As much as I agree with that sentiment, I’m not in the mood for the mess that would come if it”, you explain, trying to ignore the warmth now throbbing between your legs that had nothing to do with your period.

It’s his turn to give you a pointed look as he reminds you, “Love, I don’t have to have sex with you to make you orgasm, do you not remember your birthday?”

Heat laces your cheeks as you very vividly remember your birthday and the spell Sirius had learned to give you an orgasm without so much as touching you. Instead of saying anything further, you reached up to run your fingers into his hair and pulled his face towards yours. The kiss was gentle and yet heated, your entire body leaning completely into his, legs tangled together as your tongues danced against one another.

You needed everything Sirius could offer, craving him. From the moans he was making, he felt the same way as his weight pressed you further into the cushions beneath. His hands cupped against your face, cradling you so carefully it was like he was afraid you would break, whereas your grip was so intense in his hair you were surprised strands weren’t falling out.

Slowly, those delicate touches moved down your body until one of his hands rested over the area that continued to cramp, his fingers spread wide. His lips left yours but only to whisper the spell into your neck, causing the unbelievably intense orgasm to pulse through your cunt as you squeezed your thighs together as hard as you could. The effects of the orgasm were felt from the tip of your head all the way to your toes as you cried out, “Sirius!” as wave after wave of pleasure eased through you until you collapsed completely into your surroundings.

Sirius continued to hold you, his arms now wrapped around your waist and face. He kissed lightly against your jaw, cheek, tip of your nose, and lips as you tried to catch your breath.

“How was that?” he asked with a gleam in his grey eyes, a ghost of a smile threatening to break free across his handsome face.

“Perfect” was all you could muster of a response as you snuggled closer to him until your head rested against his chest and he simply held you. “My cramps don’t feel so bad anymore”.

“Hmm, good”, Sirius kisses the top of your head before humming to the music playing in the background.

You must have fallen asleep against him as when your eyes opened next, Remus was kneeling before you, holding out a purple bubbling concoction in a tiny vial. “Drink it all, and we’ll get you something to eat”, he instructs as you also notice that James has returned with plates and plates of all manner of foods and desserts.

Sitting up, you thanked him before drinking and then promptly gagged at the taste and texture of the potion. However, the effects were instantaneous as a sense of calm washed over you.

“Woah, easy there, I’ve got you, Darling”, Sirius reassures as you slump back into him, having no energy to hold your head up anymore.

“Open your eyes, Honey, I need you to eat this”. You do with great difficulty but are welcomed by the precious sight of James Potter grinning down at you with a bowl of soup in his lap, the spoon lifted and waiting for you to have.

James fed you the soup and bread as you fell into complete contentment at the care they were giving you. If you had any sense, you probably would have cried with joy and love, but the potion left you feeling too out of it, even if you had the energy to shed a tear.

“All good?” James asks as he finishes feeding you some ice cream. Licking your lips, you nod and smile tiredly at him. James returns with his cheeky grin, leaning down and kissing you before not so subtly pushing Sirius out of the way until his perfectly squished between you and Sirius. “Move over, Pads, it’s my turn to cuddle”.

Sirius swears but moves slightly over, and with everyone fed and happy, everyone gets comfortable. You remain where you are, lying against James’ chest. Remus then presses close against your back, his arm wrapping around you to rest over your hand, and Sirius lies sideways, his head resting against your head. It was a wholesome night, and there was nothing you appreciated more than your boyfriends. When the next few days passed, you would show them exactly how thankful you were for them.

[delulu-baddie]

Between Sister and Heart

Summary: You begin to question your morals after getting into a relationship with your sisters ex Caitlin.

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Warnings: Cheating and a few curse words

A/N:  I’m getting ready to go back to school so lifes been kind of hectic, but this is going to be a multi part series. As always thank you guys so much for reading and all of the love on my past projects. Lastly, make sure to send in some requests so that I can give you guys stories that you want to read. <3

_________________________________________________

You knew it was wrong and you should've stopped this a while ago. You two are going to cause so much hurt to someone that you love, but something about Caitlin made all of your morals go out the window. 

Caitlin and your sister Audrey had been together for the past two years and while you weren’t exactly fond of her in the beginning, you grew to like her, which turned into a great friendship, and you should have stopped there but didn’t. As time went on your feelings for the girl began to grow and for a while you were able to keep them to yourself, until you werent. 

9 Months Ago

Tonight one of Caitlins teammates was planning on throwing a party to commemorate the beginning of the new school year. Your sister is a STEM major, and has always taken her academics seriously, putting school work before anything else. You on the other hand were the opposite. You had a pretty easy major, probably one of the easiest your school has to offer. You liked going out to drink with friends, and going on random adventures, even when you knew you should be at home finishing assignments. Caitlin had always liked that about you. Typically when Audrey would tend to flake on certain events whenever she had a big assignment or a test coming up which ultimately was the reason she decided to start hanging out with you more, and tonight was no different.

Caitlin had let your sister know about Kate's party weeks ago, and while she didn’t give a definite ‘yes’, it still surprised Caitlin when she got a text saying she wasn’t going to be able to go because one of Audreys professors had already scheduled a test coming up in a week. Audrey knew her girlfriend hated going places alone when she planned on drinking so she urged Caitlin to ask you to go to her place. But what she didn’t know was that her girlfriend was happy that she had told her to ask you to go in her place. 

You had just finished up an assignment for your math class and heard a notification from your phone, quickly checking it and seeing a text from Caitlin.

                                            CC <3

CC <3

hey, ik this is totally last minute but your sister bailed on 

me and i need someone to come with me to my friends

party tn. so could you be the most perfect friend ever

and come with me. I’ll buy you crumbl cookie!

Y/N                                                                    

wow… glad to know im a

scapegoat. :’(

CC <3

omg you're right that sounds so insensitive, im sorry!

you don’t have to go, im sure you already have plans

for the night, i just figured id ask.

                                        Y/N

          chill clark, you had me at crumbl

what time do i need to be ready??

CC <3

in like two hours, you can come over to mines

to get ready if you want

Y/N

okay, ill be there in like 30. im

going to shower rq

CC <3

tysm! you're an angel!!!

You quickly take a shower and start getting your stuff together running back and forth between yours and your sister's closets trying to piece together an outfit. Once you come up with an outfit you deemed appropriate for a house party you say goodbye to your sister before making your way to Catlins. 

The drive is short since she only lives about ten minutes away, but you still rush out seeing as you have a little over an hour to get your hair and makeup done. You make your way to her front door and knock before its swiftly opened by a smiling Caitlin.

“Well if it isn't the life saver herself” She says bringing you into a hug.

You giggle at the comment before responding “Life saver or scapegoat?”

“Okay you know I love you and that I hate making plans with people at the last minute. It's not personal.” she says, rolling her eyes playfully and walking back towards her room to finish getting ready.

You follow the tall girl deeper into the apartment before making your way into the bathroom next to her and laying out all of your hair tools. After about half an hour you finally finish your hair and quickly do your makeup and get dressed so you two can pregame a bit before calling the uber and heading to Kate’s. 

About an hour into the party, it's pretty safe to say the two of you were plastered, however, even with the level of drunkenness you were at, you could tell Caitlin was being a lot clingier than usual. She was constantly wanting to be near you, holding your hand, even going as far to have you sit on her lap when all of the seats got taken during a group game sesh. At first you thought that she was so drunk that she was confusing you with your sister. That was until she pulled you out onto the balcony when she wanted some fresh air. 

The two of you just sat in silence, focusing on the trees blowing in the wind and the occasional late drivers passing by. After about ten minutes you felt her place her hand on your thigh. You hated to admit that you felt butterflies in your stomach at all of the little touches of affection she was showing you tonight, but you knew it was wrong and decided to correct her on it before things got too far. 

“Caitlin, this isn’t right, and maybe i'm reading into this too much and you're just too drunk to realize that i'm not Audrey, but this can't happen” you say, sliding her hand off your thigh, breaking the silence.

“I know exactly who you are,” she says, grabbing your hand from off your lap. “You’re the girl who will drop anything to come help me out with something,even when you know you have other things you should be focusing on. The girl who comes to all of my games so that I know I have someone personal there for me because her sister who i'm with refuses to put her disliking for the sport aside to come support me. You’re the girl I'm in love with, and I can't, no I refuse to go another day without telling you.” She rants. “And don't tell me that you don't feel the same because I know you do. I feel the way your heart starts to race every time i hug you. I see how you look away every time your sister and I share some sort of affection. I need you to tell me so that I don’t feel stupid for telling you this right now” she finishes now facing you completely, staring at your eyes desperately waiting for an answer.

You were quiet for a minute, however that felt like hours for the girl standing in front of you. She had just poured her heart out confessing her love to the sister of the girl she was dating. While you sat trying to process what was just said to you, Caitlin was freaking out internally hoping that she didn’t just fuck up her chances of ever speaking to you again. You finally decide to respond to the girl, but it wasn’t what she was expecting to hear as a response. 

“I think we should leave, it’s getting late and my sister is probably waiting for me to get back home.” you say, before walking back into the house to say your goodbyes to everyone and calling an uber back to Caitlins so that you can retrieve your stuff and head back to your place. 

Caitlin stood there in shock, she couldn’t believe that that was all you had to say. She had just let her guard down to tell you how she truly felt about you, and your only concern was the time and your sister sitting at home. She soon walks back into the party to say her goodbyes as well before following you out the door to get into the uber you had ordered a few minutes ago. Her teammates had noticed the change in demeanor between the two of you from when you went outside to when you came back in, but everyone decided it was best not to bring it up at the moment. The ride back to her place was quiet. Caitlin was hoping that you would say something, occasionally looking over at you, but you didn’t. You just stayed quiet, fiddling with your fingers and staring out the window for the whole 15 minute drive.

Once you guys had finally arrived back at her place, you begin getting all of your stuff together, mentally scolding yourself for not telling your true feelings to the girl. You could tell that she was angry at you for it, and it broke your heart, but she's your sister's girlfriend and you would never want to hurt Audrey even if that meant causing hurt to yourself. You finish grabbing all of your stuff and tell Caitlin you're going to head out before she stops you. 

“Look, I know you don't want to be around me right now, but Audrey would never forgive me if I let you drive home knowing that you had been drinking. Just stay the night here and you can leave in the morning, I'll just sleep on the couch.” She says looking everywhere but at you. 

“I’m fine, I promise. I can drive back home, I don't want to intrude.” you say looking down at the floor. 

“You could never intrude, if anything your absence would annoy me more.” she says, grabbing your chin to make you look at her.

Staring into her brown eyes made your heart melt. You were so in love with her and you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Before you could think twice you grab her face, pulling her into a kiss. It caught the girl off guard, but she quickly melted into it, placing her hands onto your waist pulling you in closer. The kiss was what you had been wanting to do for the past five months.  What you didn’t know was that she had been wanting to do it since the first time she laid eyes on you. The two of you eventually pull apart just looking at one another smiling. This felt right.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” she asks with a slight smirk on her lips.

“Yes Clark, that was my way of saying I love you too” you respond rolling your eyes but failing to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “But we have to do this the right way. If you want to be with me, you have to end things with my sister, I don't want to be the other woman.” you say sternly.

She swiftly brings you into a hug and whispers “For you, i'd do anything.”

[eileenwdj]

my spidersonas! their names are Hong Zhizhu/Red Spider (real name Hong Huiran) and Zhizhu Dajun/Lord Spider (real name Xu Xia). they are connected with each other!

backstories, doodles, and other versions under the cut

their backstories:

Zhizhu Dajun (蜘蛛大君) / Lord Spider

Real name: Xu Xia (徐侠)

Born from a poor, commoner family, Xu Xia works in a wealthy noble family's home as a servant to the young master (his version of Harry Osborne probably ?) who allows him to tag along and shadow him during his studies

A god/immortal (whom we shall not name bc I can't think) messed around and accidentally cursed a bunch of animals. Some of these animals became monsters, some physically merged with unsuspecting humans, and some others granted powers to creatures they come across, like the spider that bit Xu Xia

Bro became this world's one and only Spiderman (yayy!!!) and lived the rest of his life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!)

A lot of people thought of him as a god or a powerful immortal due to his powers and started to build temples for him and worship him (he's not god, he's just some guy who happened to get bit by a spider)

He inevitably died during a great battle against a powerful enemy. Before he died, he vowed to not rest in peace until he finds a worthy successor to serve as protector and defeat the enemy (that is presumably immortal and can strike again at anytime) and he transfered his consciousness? soul? ghost self? idk tbh? to one of his spiders

Unfortunately bro is So Tired™️ that it took him several thousand years to wake up

Hong Zhizhu (红蜘蛛) / Red Spider

Real name: Hong Huiran (洪惠然)

She's a science & engineering geek but also a History major. She originally wanted to major in STEM but ended up with History because STEM majors are expensive as hell

The mysterious and reclusive Zhizhu Dajun is her thesis topic and she frequently visits the museum to look at his statues and displays

One of the displays is a taxidermed spider

It is also the exact same spider that Xu Xia transfered himself into when he died

Xu Xia has only recently managed to wake up but is still barely able to move his new body (I imagine it must be hard to move if your body is filled with cotton, RIP)

He was intrigued by Huiran when he noticed her visiting multiple times. He deems her worthy to be his successor and with the sheer power of (god and anime on his side) will, he escaped his display and bit her

Huiran becomes her world's (and her time's) one and only Spiderwoman (yayy!!) and lives life fighting crime and protecting the innocent (wahoo!!!)

But you see, the way the spiderbite works is that now Xu Xia is technically in Huiran's body... so... so..... it's like,, Asa and Yoru.........

Several thousand-year-old stoic ancient ghost man becomes mentor and father figure to reluctant 22-year-old history student with a science obsession running on 12 cups of coffee and zero sleep

Shenanigans ensue

another version of Zhizhu Dajun’s design:

these were his original colors before he broke. red seemed too happy a color for his path. he then permanently changed to white, forever mourning the lives he couldn't save. Huiran chose to adopt these colors instead of the white.

extra doodles:

[gray-thistleclan]

An ask for the author!

Giving this ask to all of my favorite Clangen blogs, so maybe I’ll get some advice from folks I look up to :D 

How do you get your Clangen to dish up actual plot? Whenever I run a new clan, no relationship is consistent and it usually takes at least 15 moons to have something interesting happen, both relationship and plot-wise. 

Do you just let the game determine major events and build the rest of the plot + character interactions round those? 

I hear about people recoding the game for the results they want which is neat, just not something I’m interested in doing—it feels like that defeats the purpose of an RNG. 

Your style is SO unique, and all of your designs are incredibly striking. I love the way you portray body language and general dialogue. I'm also super intrigued by the prophecies and maladies of the soul how do you get all of this stuff from a clangen?!

I only stumbled upon Gray-Thistleclan recently but I am very fond <3

Wellll usually my plot elements stem from me tryna find a creative way to justify what happens in the game (plus the dark forest challenge is pretty much the only reason anything interesting is happening right now lol)

Like I needed to think of why the curse started, where our starting cats came from and how that ties together ect ect

So, i just play about 10 moons ahead and try to shape the plot/foreshadow accordingly, i have a greater, overarching plot in mind but it might be fucked by rng so we'll seee

HOWEVER some things in the game i choose to ignore because i dont really like it lol for example cotv and gustspeckle have the same amount of romance as cotv and cherrystar (MOSTLY its cotv crushing on gust) I CHOOSE it for it be non canon its not happening, if gust and cotv actually become mates i dunno what ill do

[lilacxquartz]

BEYOND HELLFIRE

true form sukuna x f!reader

plot: back when you were still alive, sukuna had once surrendered a lifetime of peace for you. when he had you incarnated for his return, however, it all went wrong — a/n: canon divergent culling games up ahead, this isn’t canon-compliant to make the story work, but still, major manga spoilers up ahead anyway!

summary: the incarnation was successful, but your memories didn’t retain. now, sukuna had to fight you, or did he?

chapter 2 of 4 < previous chapter • next chapter > • masterlist • on o3

Chapter 2. Present Day

Centuries later, when he was incarnated and then finally broken away from his initial vessel, Sukuna basked out in the open, retaining the glory of his fully awakened form. The world was truly at his disposal and he was eager to break it all apart and watch it burn.

The fights he found himself thrown into were either everlasting or not at all, but one thing remained clear—the casualties were devastating—if not cataclysmic. All of that came to a halt though, from the moment he finally saw you.

It was about time, he figured, as he was already growing bored from the drawl of the same fight without pause. The battlefield was littered with the bloodied remains of the opposing sorcerers who were foolish enough to brave an audience with him; the king of curses. No matter how much of a fight they all put up, they all bled out the same way regardless. Rinse, repeat. Ending their misery as if on clockwork.

At first, though, your appearance barely registered to him. You had to get a lot closer than it was safe for you to do so for him to lock onto the once familiar, stubborn glint present in your eyes. Your body was different, so Kenjaku must have brought you back as an incarnated soul. As soon as he recognised you, however, it was almost comedically clear. That all too familiar way you tilted your head off to the side in annoyance, your slightly crooked posture when you stood, the grimace in your face as you assessed the situation. It was all so… undeniably you.

Fuck. He could have sworn that he cycled through all of the fools that were otherwise thrown at him thus far—you were just next in line, huh? You stood there before him before breaking forward with a calm, measured stride in a vessel that didn’t even suit you. Sukuna found himself scoffing at the sight, his lips twitching to reveal an amused smile, feeling something odd form in the pit of his stomach. What was it? Hunger? Fondness? Or, maybe even, nostalgia? It was a familiar feeling that left a bittersweet taste in his mouth.

Sukuna stared at you intently, with his crimson stare boring into your form in an attempt to commit every detail to memory, unwilling to part with you again so soon. Eighty years back then. It lasted no more than a blink of an eye. Slipping through his fingers like honey. So sweet.

And yet, you didn’t look at him in that same way. Your eyes were stone cold in comparison, lacking that same recognition, replaced with clear indifference, and perhaps even something spiteful. He supposed that he did likely kill off a fair share of your allies, hell, you probably hated him. Sukuna’s smile widened at that fact. Hatred. What a strong emotion. He would have been lucky if he received anything beyond slight irritation back in the day. What an odd thing for him to focus on though, he thought, but then again, you were the only non-sorcerer that he ever found worth respecting, someone that he never had to tarnish with his touch.

For you to be thrown into the death pit as a soon-to-be-forgotten sorcerer was almost too insulting. It didn’t suit you.

Momentarily reminded of you now being a sorcerer in your incarnated form, Sukuna focused on your technique, next. Your ability seemed to stem from bandages infused with cursed energy, which he deemed to be quite fitting, given that your life-long craft was dedicated to reconstruction. He paid attention to how you bound them around minor wounds before whipping them harshly against the air, smoothing them into razor-sharp blades.

He remained standing in place as you advanced on his position, your stance wary but determined. Your bravery was nothing to applaud, not if your life could be so easily taken away, so he tutted a little as you prepared to take him on. Another foolish sorcerer, doomed to end their life within a matter of minutes—maybe even seconds—but no, he had something else planned. That didn’t mean that he wouldn’t toy with you though.

He wanted to tease you.

To toy with you.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?” Sukuna finally broke through the silence, shattering what little remained of your strained composure. “Or who you’re up against?”

You didn’t dare to reply, figuring that it would be wiser not to engage. You were admittedly very afraid. Your existence was sudden, and imposing, and now you had to fight with a whole flurry of broken memories making up your existence in a world that no longer made sense.

Sukuna all the while, found your doe-eyed look to be endearing, wondering what exactly must have been going through your mind as he towered in front of you. He looked down at you with an expression that didn’t betray any of his thoughts, leaving you to reel at the prospect of being struck down at any moment.

He was never one to take fights too seriously, though, that was the thing. At least not to opponents who never stood a chance. When a worthy opponent surfaced, he had the time of his life, but even with you, something felt different. Sukuna didn’t want to fight you, but he wanted to provoke you. So he’d lazily punch his hand forward to test the waters—letting you dance around him as he watched—his eyes lighting up as he watched the bandages snap in the air, never once letting you break his skin.

However, just like with everything else, he quickly grew bored.

You needed to step up—or he would.

“Is that it?” he taunted, “surely you’ve got more fight in you?”

Without hesitating the next time, you lashed out towards him as he intercepted you with an open stance, allowing himself to get caught with one ribbon of the gauze to snag onto his forearm, slicing open his skin. It stung in the same way a papercut would, the sensation barely noticeable, if at all.

Sukuna barked out a laugh. “Cute.”

Your eyes narrowed in response before you broke forward in attempted retaliation with your ribbons spiraling through the air as they snaked towards him. You were quick and given the unforgiving circumstances of the culling games, you likely had plenty of experience to boot, but it still wasn’t enough to face someone like him.

Sukuna easily managed to sidestep all of your incoming attacks, predicting anything you had in mind. You were very new to this, after all, no matter how much practice you got in, you were never meant for this kind of thing. He didn’t think this to insult you, of course, that was just the way of the world. Some were born with cursed energy and others weren’t. It was just a fact of life.

Though, you caught on to him avoiding all of your attacks, perhaps finally noticing that you were still alive. “You’re not going to fight back?”

Sukuna laughed a bit more heartily that time, tilting his head back as he crossed his arms. “Fight you? Do you truly wish for me to break you so badly?” he paused, the mouth on his abdomen cracking a wide smile to match the one above. “If you insist.”

He then without a single hint nor warning—tore forward, his speed faster than what you could keep up with—with a charged fist that hurtled towards your standing form. He withheld using cursed techniques for now, knowing that he had to reserve such energy for more dire threats that lurked just over the horizon. Such an impact sent you flying, flinging you far away, hitting the ground just up ahead, hard, with the pavement splitting upon the impact. For a moment, all you could was simply lie there, with the air completely gone from your lungs, choking on the sudden surging pain.

Sukuna otherwise tilted his head in mild disappointment, not expecting you to be subdued so soon.

He then stepped forward, his imposing build looming over you, as his eyes once ablaze with fiery rage, settled into something tranquil instead. His gaze crossed your face, taking note of how you were at the cusp of losing consciousness, confirming your pulse was still present before taking a step back.

“Makes sense,” he snorted to himself, deciding to move further into the battlefield away from where you lay, deciding to continue this when he had settled another matter, “you were never cut out for fighting.”

He could fix you up later with his reverse cursed technique if need be, but the rise and fall of your chest told him all that he had to know. You were alive. You would be fine.

Sukuna then took a step back, thinking back to the remainder of the enemies that remained. Suddenly, carrying out Kenjaku’s will seemed all the more motivating. He had you back. If he brought forward a target that made him seem like nothing more than a fly-head curse, then he could likely make a subtle exit to bide some time if need be. It didn’t quite matter to him that you didn’t remember him just yet—he would make you if he had to.

Sukuna after all, was sentimental, that much was clear when he considered Uraume and it was clear when he considered any such matters with you, too.

Tucking you away somewhere hidden for later retrieval, he adjusted his plans. Given the slight shift in energy, he determined that Kenjaku was likely down. That’s why the remaining brats in the city ruins likely looked as hopeful as they did. Poor them. They didn’t account for this whole plan being accounted for centuries, planned sooner before they could even comprehend. Sukuna knew the signal perfectly well if his ally was down, the issue beforehand being, that he was simply too selfish to finalise the plan. What irony it was that he was moving forward with the merger for equally selfish reasons in the end.

Sukuna next considered the possibility of Yuta. A familiar cursed energy could be detected from the sorcerer, so he determined that it was very likely that Rika had consumed Kenjaku and stolen his power. The will to carry out the plan, however, was tied to a binding vow, so in theory, if he called for Rika during a fight, then it was still possible to activate the condition needed to succeed.

The main issue was everyone else who stood in the way.

(But he had to try.)

This fight wasn’t about elimination for fun anymore, it was about seeing something through to the end—like you—before you dared to slip away without saying goodbye again.

Making his intentions abundantly clear, Sukuna beelined towards Yuta right away, the young sorcerer’s eyes flashed with realisation, with his grip tightening around the hilt of his weapon, hoping to slash away his advancing presence.

Sukuna however, had him figured out from the start. He moved behind him within a beat, aiming straight for the back of his neck, in an attempt to draw Rika out, and just as predicted, he found himself being pushed back by the emerging vengeful spirit. Her form churned into the open, materialising into overhead space above where the younger sorcerer stood, all the while Yuta quickly caught onto what Sukuna might have been trying to do.

In an attempted halt, Yuta cried out, “Rika, wait—”

However, it was too late. Rika wouldn’t stop if it meant that Yuta would potentially risk getting killed in the process. Sukuna smiled as he was met face to face with her, facing his palm upwards to meet her form with an extended punch laced with cursed energy burning from the cusp of his fists. Before anyone else, be it a bystander or any sort of backup could respond, Sukuna’s cursed energy shifted into something else—something suffocating—impossibly dense, as if the law of space and time was bending under the weight of his will.

With surging energy, he launched accumulated cursed energy to drive forward, drowning out Rika’s presence, and silencing all attempted attacks that she would otherwise attempt to dish out in retaliation. All Sukuna had to do was connect with a certain type of energy, activating exactly what Yuta had Rika consume to prevent the cataclysm of.

“Rika, please, fight it,” Yuta urged, only for her to slowly dissolve, letting the conditions activate and take its place, her body expanding rapidly as if threatening to explore.

Sukuna faded into the smoke as the merger seemed to successfully activate, not paying too much mind as something otherworldly branched out of the detonated mass, nor the rumble of the streets, with gravel rising, trembling in the air at the possibility of something irreversible rising from the aftermath.

None of it mattered anymore.

Not when he had you to watch the world end with him.

this is part 4 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares

a/n part 2: set up the scene a bit to make him extra yan coded by the next chapter 🫶

[munsonburn3r]

Oh, Camellia, won't you take me away? - A Hanahaki!Eddie Munson story (sneak peek!)

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie munson had been a constant during your short time in hawkins, indiana, which made it that much harder when you had to leave. four years and a clinical trial later, you'd thought you'd conquered an otherwise fatal disease. what you weren't expecting, though, was the man that nearly killed you to walk back into your life, threatening to undo all of the progress you'd made towards healing - both physically and emotionally.

cw: hanahaki!au, angst, descriptions of light gore, childhood trauma, sexual themes and content

a/n: here is a snippet from the hanahaki eddie fic that has been bouncing around in my brain over the past week. feedback welcomed!

Water flowed out across the floor in a surge that mimicked crashing ocean waves. You cursed as you scrambled to right the plastic Procona and liquid sloshed awkwardly, lapping at your fingertips. It was a surprising amount from a relatively small bucket. 

“Everything alright out there?” called a gruff voice from the back office. 

You sighed. “Just fine, Bill! Minor spill. Nothing major.”

A muffled grumble could be heard from the owner’s space behind you, but you paid it no mind. It only took a few steps for you to grab the mop and start cleaning up the water all over the workspace floor, and to your relief, it really wasn’t as much as it seemed. 

The nearly four years you’d spent at Indiana Floral Company had seemed to fly by in a blink of an eye. You weren’t expecting an on the spot interview when you’d first stopped into the shop, but the owner Bill had been impressed at your willingness to learn and your natural eye for design and hired you immediately. Probationary, of course. 

So under Bill’s tutelage, your floral design skills blossomed. The basic knowledge of plants you’d brought from years of spending time gardening with your Grandma grew. You went from simply identifying lilies to knowing the difference between Asiatic and Oriental and their best growing seasons. You could identify roses based on subtle color differences and had learned how to take the most tightly closed bud and blow it open with a little humidity, a plastic bag, and very careful preening. And though you didn’t like to brag, you could match corsage ribbon to prom dresses better than anyone in town. 

As time wore on, Bill had shared that years of design had wrecked his body and that it was time to begin passing the torch. Since Indiana Floral Company was one of the top floral design studios in town, the responsibility embedded in passing said torch was sobering. But after a year and a half of earning your stripes, you landed a head designer role and began training to take over the small family business.

Humming a nondescript tune, you refilled the earlier bucket with water and flower food before chopping the ends off of a bunch of de-thorned roses with the guillotine-like stem cutter. A clunk thrummed out when you dropped the two dozen stems into the water. Each blossom peered at you with a center like a curled eye — delicate sandy cream — perfect for the event you were designing later this weekend. 

A ring of the bells on the front door broke your focus. You wiped your hands on the rag shoved haphazardly into your apron and turned at the sudden sound of Bill’s voice. 

“The 1:30 initial wedding consult must be early. You mind taking this one, kid?” His head peeked around the office door. “I started the file – it’s on the cash wrap.” He looked tired; the man should have retired two years ago. 

With a slight smile, you nodded. “Got it.”

It was impossible to see who had entered due to the amount of plants, gift items, and displays you’d designed around the small space (“customers shop with their eyes first, kid; you gotta draw them in before you let them see the price tag” Bill had said). But as soon as you rounded the front display, your stomach dropped clear out of your body and onto the floor. 

Maybe it was the habitual need to weave around the labyrinth of flora and gifts that had lowered your defenses. Or perhaps it was the fact that this was a typical boring Wednesday afternoon in April. Hell, it could have been the questionable sandwich you had for lunch that you found at the back of the minifridge. 

But one thing was clear: you hadn’t expected to see Eddie Munson and Chrissy Cunningham hand in hand looking around at the array of merchandise you’d set out in preparation for Mother’s Day. 

“Hi!” A saccharine voice matched the sickeningly sweet smile on the strawberry blonde in front of you. “We’re here for a wedding consultation at 1:30. Sorry we’re a bit early — we didn’t want to be late!”

Time stood still. Or maybe that was just you — frozen as you stared the couple down with a look of surprise plastered across your features. You didn’t think you could move (or even speak, for that matter).

However, for the first time in almost four years, you felt your chest tighten and a sharp prickling sensation snake up your windpipe. You licked your dry lips (hadn’t you just put on chapstick?) and attempted to swallow with no success. Instead, your throat constricted, and there it was: an involuntary, yet ever so familiar metallic cough.

image credit: pinterest dividers: @saradika-graphics

tagging some moots that might be interested: @chickpeadumpsterfire @voyeurmunson @joshlmbrt @mediocredreams @littlexdeaths @anamelessfool

[librababe99]

A Bloom of Despair

Tags: MDNI, 18+ ONLY,  Logan Howlett x Reader, Hanahaki Disease, Angst, Body Horror (descriptions of internal injuries,  physical suffering, mentions of blood), Major Character Death, Hurt /No comfort, No Happy ending

Word Count: 1.1K

Summary: Stricken by Hanahaki disease, you endure the agonizing bloom of petals in your lungs, torn between hope and despair as Logan unknowingly becomes the source of your slow death.

Author's Note: Hi my loves! It’s been a few months since I’ve posted anything on my blog and honestly with everything going on in the world…I have needed an escape. Also this is my first time writing about Hanahaki so I hope I am able to deliver... lol As always comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3

(Marvel Masterlist)

The first petal came while the mansion slept. It was small and delicate, a pale pink thing crumpled between your lips as you jolted awake, choking. The metallic tang of blood was faint but unmistakable, and you stumbled to the bathroom, panic bubbling in your chest. You stood under the fluorescent lights, trembling, staring at the petal in your hand.

It couldn’t be real. But it was.

The next morning, you tucked the petal into a tissue and shoved it deep into your pocket, forcing yourself to smile through breakfast. Logan was there, of course, leaning against the counter with his usual gruff demeanor, grunting responses to Scott’s sarcastic remarks. His dark eyes flicked to you, giving you that half-smirk that had been your undoing since the day you met.

“Mornin',” he said, his voice gravelly.

“Morning,” you replied, your voice betraying none of the chaos inside you. You quickly looked away, your heart racing, feeling the sharp sting of unrequited affection digging deeper into your chest. The disease was already taking root.

The petals came more frequently as the weeks passed. You’d excuse yourself from meals, from training sessions, from late-night conversations, all to cough up those cursed blossoms in private. Each petal was a tangible reminder of what you could never have. Your love for Logan was killing you—literally.

It wasn’t just the petals, either. They began to claw their way up from your lungs, tearing at the tender lining of your throat. You felt the scratches long after each episode, raw and burning, a cruel reminder of what lay inside you. Sometimes you caught glimpses of stems, jagged and thorny, trailing out with the petals. Your hands trembled as you tried to clean up the mess, staring at the streaks of crimson mingling with the delicate pink of the blooms. It was horrifyingly beautiful—a grotesque contradiction that left you sobbing on the bathroom floor.

You tried to suppress it, to smother your feelings beneath layers of forced indifference. But the disease thrived on hope, and you couldn’t stop yourself from hoping. Every shared glance, every accidental touch, every gruff word of encouragement from Logan made your heart race and your condition worsen.

The first full bloom came after a mission. Logan had saved your life, his strong arms pulling you from the wreckage of a burning building. You’d coughed violently in his embrace, blood spotting your lips, but you managed to hide it before he noticed. Later that night, alone in your room, you hacked up a handful of petals, crimson-tinged and velvety soft. But these were not just petals anymore. Nestled among them were small, sharp thorns, jagged and coated in blood. They cut the inside of your mouth as they came, leaving your throat aching and raw. You stared at the mess in the sink, bile rising in your stomach.

Your tears soaked the petals as you sat on the bathroom floor, clutching your sides, which ached from the relentless coughing. You knew what this meant. You’d read about Hanahaki disease in dusty, forbidden texts in Charles's library. Unrequited love that festered into flowers, choking the life out of its victim unless the love was returned—or surgically removed, at the cost of those feelings and the memories tied to them.

You couldn’t bear the thought of forgetting him.

The final blow came one evening in the mansion’s rec room. Jean was there, sitting close to Logan on the couch. Too close. Her laugh was soft and melodic, and Logan’s rare smile stretched across his face as he responded to something she’d said. The sight made the petals rise in your throat, sharp and unforgiving. You felt the thorns digging into your lungs as you stumbled from the room, each breath a struggle. You clutched your chest and fled, ignoring Storm’s concerned call after you.

Back in your room, you collapsed onto your knees, your body wracked with violent coughs. The petals came in a torrent now, soaked in blood, tearing their way out of you. Larger blooms mixed with shards of stems and thorns spilled from your lips, the pain blinding. You felt them tear through the soft tissue of your throat, leaving jagged cuts in their wake. Your chest burned with every cough, the petals relentless in their assault. The metallic scent of blood was suffocating, mingling with the cloying sweetness of the flowers. Your vision blurred, dark spots dancing at the edges of your sight. When it finally stopped, you slumped against the wall, too weak to move.

Logan found you two days later. You hadn’t left your room, and when he kicked the door open, the sight froze him in his tracks. You were pale, your skin clammy, the bed and floor around you littered with withered petals and dried blood. Some of the petals had started to rot, their edges blackened, the sickly-sweet smell making your stomach churn. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice calling your name, raw with worry and anger.

“What the hell’s going on?” he demanded, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to start.

You tried to speak, but your voice was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

“Sorry? For what?” His brows furrowed as he looked around the room, piecing together the horrific puzzle. “Is this… You’ve been coughing this up?”

You nodded weakly, tears sliding down your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“The hell it doesn’t!” he growled. “We’re getting you help. Now.”

You shook your head, your hand reaching out to grip his arm. Your fingers barely had the strength to close around his wrist. “It’s too late.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—fear, maybe even regret. But you knew better. Logan cared, but not the way you needed him to. Not the way that would save you.

“Don’t do this,” he said, his voice softer now.

“I… I loved you, Logan,” you confessed, your voice breaking. “I just wanted to tell you before…” Your sentence trailed off as your strength faded.

“No, no, stay with me,” he said, cradling you against his chest. You felt the roughness of his jacket against your cheek, the warmth of his body. It was the closest you’d ever been to him, and it was enough.

Your breathing slowed, your hand slipping from his arm. The last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was his face, twisted in anguish.

When the others found you, Logan was still holding you, his shirt stained with blood and petals. He didn’t say a word as they led him away, his expression blank, his eyes hollow.

The mansion was quiet in the days that followed. Logan was quieter still, spending his nights on the porch, a cigarette between his fingers, staring out into the distance. The others gave him space, knowing better than to ask questions.

In his pocket, he kept a single petal, pale pink and fragile. It was all he had left of you.

[julesdaydreams]

@rosekillermicrofic II prompt: May 1 - rose II word count: 951

TW: blood (it's nothing major, just a cut, but it's there)

Barty was standing in front of him with a rose.

Barty, his best friend for over six years, was standing in front of him, Evan, with a fucking rose.

And Evan's mind was spinning.

It wasn't like he hadn't dreamt of a moment like this. When the ball at the end of the year was announced, Evan's mind immediately wandered towards Barty. How it would feel to go there with him. His best friend, but more importantly, with the boy he's been madly in love with for the better part of three years.

Evan imagined himself standing in front of Barty, asking him to the dance, and not as friends - like the other times the two of them had attended gatherings together instead of bringing a date because they just couldn't be arsed to ask someone - but as more.

And now Barty was standing in front of him with that damned rose, thorns still adorning the stem because of course Barty wouldn't bother removing them, would like the fact that if he wasn't careful they'd sting and draw blood.

Was this some crude joke of his friend? Was this like all those other times they've gone together to such things instead of bringing someone else? But no, that wouldn't explain the rose. In all those years there had never been a rose and Evan didn’t know what it meant.

“So?”, came the all too familiar voice and Evan's head snapped up and towards those large eyes that looked like Barty's, but also not because Evan had never seen them like this; wide and expecting, but there was fear behind them, a tension, as if Barty was ready to bolt if Evan said something wrong.

“What?” Was all Evan's very unhelpful brain could come up with.

Barty looked exasperated with him already.

“The ball, Evan. You want to go? With- With me?” Barty's voice was higher than usual, if not by much but Evan could tell. He was also fidgety - which was usually pretty normal for the boy, but not with Evan. Not when they were alone.

Finally focusing on the fact that he should probably say something, Evan stepped into action.

“Oh! Yeah sure, mate. You don't have to ask so formally, we always go together to these things, no?”, he laughed lightly but it all came out wrong. Because for once in his life Evan couldn't suppress the hope that this was something else, that this meant more, whatever that more was.

Barty cursed, rolled his eyes, before looking at Evan with so much intensity, he found himself pinned to the floor, not even blinking.

“Rosie, you know that's not what I meant. That's not what this is. I got you a rose for fucks sake! Isn't that obvious enough?! I don't want to go as mates. Not with you. Not anymore. I just- I really hope I haven't been reading this wrong and I'm making a complete arse of myself right now. But- you want this too, right? Want… want us to be more than best friends?”

It all came out in a jumbled mess, just calming down over the last few words and he sounded so unsure. Evan has never seen him like that he wanted to make it go away, now.

So, when his brain finally caught up with him, when his thoughts where finally aligned, focused on the boy in front of him, the boy he loved, he just acted.

He took the rose from Barty's hands, feeling the way the thorns dug into his palm, cutting skin, because he couldn't waste a moment being careful about such a thing when all he wanted was Barty.

His arms wrapped around Barty's neck, pulling him down the few inches he had on Evan, and crashed their mouths together.

It wasn't gentle. Maybe it could've been. If Evan wanted it to. He could've taken Barty's rose gently, instead of crushing the stem in his palm. Could've taken Barty's cheeks in both his hands, cradling them, before planting a sweet kiss to the other boys lips.

But Evan had waited three years for this moment. Had been gentle with his own heart this whole time, trying to protect it, to shield it from every hook-up of Barty's, from every hickey that the other had, that weren't from Evan.

For once he wanted to be reckless and now, here, with Barty he finally could.

Soon it was tongues and teeth clashing together and Evan biting Barty's tongue, drawing blood from the other and loving the taste, loving the whimper it elicited from the taller boy.

Evan would've spent the rest of his life standing there and snogging Barty, but the taller boy took a step back all too soon, looking at Evan with such adoration it made him melt on the insides.

“Is that a yes?”, Barty asked and it wasn't nervous anymore, but cocky. That familiar smirk on his face finally back where it's supposed to be and Evan was so happy with it all.

“That's a fucking yes. I'll go to that stupid dance with you, Barty.”

They kissed again, something long and slightly less brutal, if just as intense.

And if Evan forgot about the rose in his bloody hand and brought it to the side, cradling Barty's neck and jaw; if the thorns stung the other boy's creamy skin, painting it a crimson red… Well. None of them seemed to mind.

[ellephlox]

Head Over Heels

Summary: It's technically not your fault that you sprained your ankle, but Matt's annoyed with you anyway (at least, he pretends to be annoyed with you — but you know better).

Pairing: Matt x Fem!Reader

Warnings: A few swears, but otherwise just a whole lot of whumptober fluff!

"You're going to hurt yourself."

"I am not."

"I just heard you nearly fall over in the bathroom—"

"Because I'm rushing, Matt, that's what happens when your partner holds you captive for too long in bed and makes you late for work!"

Matt was in the process of buttoning his work shirt, a task that you noticed was taking him nearly triple the time it usually took, because his attention was entirely on you. "No one at the presentation will care if you're not wearing heels, sweetheart."

"I care!" You jangled your keys, checked your pockets again for your wallet, and slipped on a jacket. "It's a fashion thing. High heels equal professionalism."

"I like to think that I'm a professional lawyer, and not once in my life have I ever had to wear high heels to court."

"You're overreacting. I'm like a gymnast in heels. Ready? Watch this."

Your stilettos clacking against the floor, you performed several twirls, rotating as though you were a ballerina. For the first few, Matt said nothing, but then he reached out and stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder.

"The heels sound like precarious twigs," he said.

"They're not precarious and they're not twigs. They're pretty." For added effect you started to skip by him towards your purse.

"Just — please stop," Matt said, finishing with his last button and gesturing downward. "Walk like a normal person, at least?"

"Don't worry. I wasn't planning on skipping into the office," you assured him. "Look, I'll see you for lunch, okay? I've got to split."

"Twelve o'clock. And also promise me you won't twirl like that during your presentation," he said, and leaned in to kiss you before you left.

It was another of those impossibly busy days when you and Matt wouldn't be able to spend much time together. He was going to be in court the entire afternoon, and you had a major annual presentation for work, meaning that you'd both be out overtime and wouldn't get home until late. The bright side was that you both had an opening at noon to meet at a small diner in Hell's Kitchen and catch up over lunch.

You cursed your high heels as you tried to speed down the stairs of Matt's apartment. They really weren't conducive for someone who was running late. Halfway down, you lost your footing; the stem of the heel missed the edge of the step and you jolted downward.

And, mercifully, caught yourself on the railing.

Knowing for certain that Matt was listening to you and likely heard your misstep — as well as the way your heart was hammering from the adrenaline of nearly falling down a flight of stairs — you muttered aloud, "See? Everything's fine," and continued on your way. Shortly after, your phone vibrated with a text from Matt:

Are you trying to give me a heart attack?

Laughing to yourself, you stowed your phone back in your purse.

And the high heels did work out, for most of the morning. You gave your presentation and then buried yourself at your desk in paperwork, confined to work for the rest of the day on everything you'd fallen behind in while prepping for the presentation. You couldn't help but glance at the clock every ten minutes; noon was going to be the breath of fresh air in an otherwise stressful day.

Fifteen minutes to noon you got up from your desk and made your way out onto the street. The sun was shining, a soft balmy breeze carried the fragrance of blooming lilacs as you passed a small garden, and plush clouds drifted overhead idly.

And then, just as you were hurrying to crossing the street — technically the pedestrian light was red, but you had a solid seven seconds before the approaching car would actually reach you — there was an ominous snap, and you found yourself falling onto the pavement, your ankle rolling in the process.

Well, not just rolling. It felt more like your ankle was jerked down into a direction it definitely shouldn't have been in, accompanied by a soft pop and a flaring of sharp, throbbing pain.

The car that you would have easily made it past had to brake, honking angrily at you, and you waved vehemently in apology as you struggled to your feet — shit shit shit that hurts — and hobbled out of the street.

"Bitch!" the man shouted from his window as he accelerated by you, tossing a middle finger at you.

Usually that would probably be enough to ruin your day, being yelled at by a stranger, but you were much more preoccupied with the stabbing pain in your ankle. Did I break it? Should sprains hurt this much? You stared, stunned, at the broken stiletto that was half-dangling from your shoe. It had simply snapped in half, for no reason at all.

"Traitor," you muttered to it, taking shelter in the shade of a building to assess your ankle. Gingerly you tried touching it, but it flashed with pain as you pressed on it. Inhaling deeply and tilting your head backwards — do NOT cry don't cry don't cry don't cry— you began to continue your way to the diner.

Matt wasn't going to be happy about this. And you already knew there was no way you could hide it from him. You were limping so badly that it was difficult to walk; each movement felt as though you were tearing your ankle again. If you could arrive at the diner first and get yourself seated, then maybe you had a small chance of the injury going unnoticed, but your limping must have delayed you just enough, because you could see Matt through the window of the restaurant — he'd already arrived.

And his head was already tilted in a way that meant, yep, he's definitely onto me, he can already hear me.

"Hi," you greeted him weakly as you walked in, ignoring the fact that tears were spiking in your eyes. Matt was already on his feet, grabbing his cane almost as an afterthought and approaching you quickly.

"I didn't think it was you at first," he said, quietly so that other patrons in the diner wouldn't hear. "Your gait was so different. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's not so bad," you said, knowing he'd hear right through the lie, but not caring much in the moment.

"Let me feel it."

There was no sense in objecting; Matt, you knew, wouldn't be satisfied until he'd done his radar scanning of it so that he could know precisely what was going on in your ankle. "Okay," you agreed. "But let's use the bathroom. These people trying to enjoy their meals don't need to see you feeling up my ankle."

It was a single-user bathroom, fortunately. Matt entered first and held the door open for you, and only once it was shut and locked did he abandon his cane and stoop by your feet. You leaned against the sink as his fingers grazed your ankle.

"What's my diagnosis, Mr. X-Ray?" you asked, trying to come off as playful, but it was hard hiding the pain in your voice. It didn't help that Matt wasn't having it. He stood up, hands on his hips, jaw twitching.

"You fully tore the ligament," he said. "I told you that those heels would get you hurt."

"Whoa, excuse me. This was not my fault. I didn't trip. The heel just happened to snap on me, so it is one hundred percent, completely, utterly, not my fault."

"You knowingly wore dangerous shoes," Matt insisted.

"Stilettos aren't inherently dangerous, Matt! They're shoes! I just got a bit unlucky—"

"Unlucky? You can hardly walk."

"I'm fine," you said, a bit more firmly, and tried, recklessly, to do the twirl you had done that morning to prove it, but had to stop immediately because it sent a rocketing flare of pain through your leg. "Ow. Shit."

Matt steadied you instinctively. "You should take the rest of the day off and go to the doctor."

"No way. I'm so far behind in work. Besides, I'm good once I'm sitting, it's just walking that's hard."

Matt said nothing at first, but helped you get from the bathroom to the booth, one hand loosely holding his cane and the other supporting you as you leaned on him. You were grateful for his strength practically holding you up; already your ankle was swelling and walking alone would have made a scene. Still, it earned a few stares from several of the other people eating in the diner, but you ignored them.

"I guess I should clarify," Matt said, only once you were seated. "You are taking the rest of the day off."

You furrowed your brow, outraged. "You can't tell me what to do."

"And I'd really recommend seeing a doctor," he continued, "because—"

"Last week you—" You realized your voice was loud and lowered it to a whisper. "Last month you came flopping onto the bed at three in the morning, gasping for breath because you fractured a rib, and when I begged you to see a doctor, you said, 'I'm fine. Don't worry about me so much.' Don't you see how much of a hypocrite you are?"

"I don't care whether or not I'm a hypocrite, I care that you go to the doctor," he said, then added, "But if you don't, you're at least not going back to work. You need to rest, elevate the ankle, and ice it."

You bit your lip. "What if I simply refuse?"

"Then I'll call Claire and make her come pay us a visit tonight to check on you."

The thought of burdening Claire with having to make a trip out to Matt's apartment just for your sake was enough to make your cheeks burn. "You wouldn't."

"I would," he said. "Unless you at the very least stay home the rest of the day and ice your ankle."

"I can't believe you." You fell into silence, punctuated only by the waitress coming to take your beverage orders. Once she left, you tried to brighten things a bit, because Matt's mouth was curved in such an unhappy frown that it was beginning to stress you out. "At least it wasn't my favorite pair of stilettos. If it had been, I might be tempted to try super-gluing the heel back on."

It didn't seem to improve his mood, because Matt didn't smile. "I'd prefer if you just stuck to flats from now on."

"That's a lie. I know you love my heels," you said, impetuously leaning across the table to grab his hands. "You may not be able to see my legs, but I know you can sense them, and I know that stilettos make them, like, ten times sexier."

"You know what's not sexy? A sprained ankle."

"Wow. Thanks for really bulldozing my self-esteem." You paused. "If my ankle makes me so un-sexy, then maybe I'll just... sleep on the couch tonight instead. Wouldn't want you to be near me if I'm all sprained-ankle-ish."

"You're impossible."

"I have a better idea. I can be bait," you said, watching Matt's expression carefully. "I'll stumble out onto the streets tonight — you know, all 'Woe is me, I've got a sprained ankle' — and that'll attract every mugger in the vicinity, seeing a vulnerable girl alone. They won't be able to help themselves, they'll just be dying to come over and rob me. And then, lo and behold! Daredevil dives in and catches all of Hell's Kitchen's criminals in one fell swoop."

Sure enough, you could see an irritated amusement in Matt's mouth, the type that meant he was torn between smiling and getting annoyed. "I'll agree to that plan when Foggy learns how to meditate for more than five minutes at a time."

The waitress arrived and took your orders. You sipped on the water she had delivered, your eyes not leaving Matt's face.

"What is it?" he said, finally. "You're dying to say something."

"Yeah. I want you to admit that it's not my poor high heels you're angry with. You're just worried about me."

"Can't it be both?"

"Leave my high heels out of this and admit it, Matt."

"Fine. I'm worried about you. Does that make you happy?"

"Sure does," you said, squeezing his hands and smiling. "By the way... did I ever mention that I'm head over heels in love with you?"

"Oh, my God."

A/N: This was just a short piece inspired by two separate asks I received that fit together quite well:

Prompt 1: hi!!! could you do a hurt/comfort where reader breaks her heel and sprains her ankle while walking home and matt finds her??

Prompt 2: May I request a Matt fic? I've been seeing girls on YouTube that test their heels out by running around in front of their s/o, and I thought it would be really funny with a clumsy reader and Matt having an absolute heart attack. Thanks!

Just realized that I completely altered the first prompt by having them meet at a diner rather than Matt finding her, so I apologize! I hope it was still alright to read :) happy whumptober, everyone!

[galene-gothic]

𝖱𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

✬ They're a traditional person in many ways and also a traditional lover

✬ They'll get you flowers, buy you stuff and help you out with everything that they can help you with once they're sure that they like you (even when you've not entered a relationship yet)

✬ They are extremely dependable and expect the same from their partner too

✬ They might have major taurus placements

✬ They're really well mannered, the type to not speak with food in their mouth or the type to wait for the person who bought them the meal to eat first

✬ They might also avoid cursing in public

✬ You'll see them as someone who knows a lot, they might know about various different topics that aren't even related to each other

✬ They're a very wise and mature person, they've learnt a lot throughout life and have a strong moral code

✬ They want a committed and strong relationship that's also a very strong investment (they won't be interested in marrying or dating someone who has nothing to offer)

✬ They care about the finer things in life and are extremely ethereal

✬ They make everything around them beautiful, comfortable and luxurious to their own liking

✬ They are a sensual and materialistic person who wants the finer things in life and will work for it

✬ They like to be taken seriously but they are actually very funny

✬ People might not express or be able to see how wise they are at times but the ones that do really appreciate them

✬ They have people who can't forget them even after a long time has passed by

✬ Your beliefs will probably align with each other's and when they don't, you'll learn from each other

✬ They prefer deep conversations over small talk

✬ They enjoy travelling and don't mind paying for everything as long as you're good company according to them

✬ They want a 'grow old together' kind of love

✬ They believe in themself but they have the tendency to be incredibly hard on themself

✬ They're grateful about life's experiences though

✬ Even though they're traditional, they understand the need for space, they'll give you enough space to grow and experience life and will expect the same in return

✬ You'll be able to count on them whenever you're struggling

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

✬ They're an optimistic and confident person

✬ They warm up whatever environment they're in

✬ They like expressing themselves (in terms of values and positive emotions) and presenting themselves as a warm and bright person

✬ They're the kind of person that won't dim their light just because it makes others uncomfortable and they do have the tendency to make insecure people uncomfortable

✬ You'll just look at them and wonder how they're so optimistic and open

✬ They're someone who a lot of people look up to

✬ They are the center of attention wherever they go

✬ They're going to be very successful when you meet them and I'm getting that they're already pretty successful in their own ways, they're someone who anyone would look at and can predict that they'll be successful in the future

✬ They know how to have fun and I'm getting that you both will share a bond where when one of you enters the room or conversation, that's when the other thinks to themself 'finally, this place is going to be fun'

✬ They have a lot of willpower to make their dreams come true, they're a hard worker and also a natural leader (people naturally follow them)

✬ They possess a lot of charisma and it stems from their personal integrity and understanding nature

✬ You both will feel really excited but also very sleepy around each other because it's a comfortable and cosy atmosphere

✬ Their positive outlook on life is truly admirable

✬ You'll both absolutely adore each other

✬ You'll both feel so lucky to have met each other, there's a lot of admiration, adoration and understanding towards the other

✬ They go around spreading happiness and know how to grab opportunities

✬ They're a driven individual who knows how to make things happen for them

✬ 'You win some, you lose some, that's life, not me though, I win all, lose none' energy, even when they do lose something they gain an experience, they gain a lesson

✬ You'll feel physically hot around each other because sparks will be flying

✬ They're confident and will completely sweep you off your feet

✬ They'll know how to make you feel like you're the only one in the room, I'm getting a lot of 'pretending to look around the room when they're actually looking for the you' energy here

✬ It'll be difficult to hide your feelings for each other, people around you will notice the tension between the both of you, many will ship you or atleast guess that something's going on

✬ You'll both flirt with each other in many different ways, flirting with eyes, comparing hang sizes and roasting each other

✬ They'll fill your life with excitement and comfort

✬ They'll like your eyes

⸼ ۫ ︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

✬ They really care about their reputation and the way they present themself is very important to them

✬ They might have something that they're really good at

✬ They're a skilled individual who knows how to create the life they wish to live

✬ They're dedicated, ambitious and confident

✬ They are busy achieving their goals and are extremely focused on them

✬ They might be a life path 11

✬ They are diligent and have high standards (both regarding themself and others in their life)

✬ They might be kinda commitment phobic when you first meet them

✬ They inspire and motivate others to be the best version of themselves

✬ One of you really likes wearing black

✬ You'll have a lot of interesting conversations when you're alone with each other but act kinda indifferent when others are around

✬ They're intelligent and cautious with who and what they invest their energy into

✬ They present themself as a go getter who's charming, warm and has a lot of energy

✬ They'll sweep you off your feet and you'll feel really excited around them

✬ They'll be attracted to you like a moth to a flame because I'm getting that they wouldn't want to get attached to anyone when they first meet you

✬ I'm getting a temporary parting here, they'll really miss you during this time, when they'll see you again, they'll just want to come to you and express their feelings but since not much will have happened between the both of you, they'll choose to keep things light

✬ They'll feel really passionate towards you and will eventually just choose to accept it and pursue you

✬ 'Make you mine' started playing, oh my god, that's what the energy will feel like

✬ You might both end up saying mean things to each other, very impulsively too

✬ A crush like energy here, frustration, attraction, denial, happiness, resistance, etc.

✬ They'll be able to see themselves spending their entire life with you really early on but they'll choose not to

✬ You'll be in a similar energy too, 'too tired to date' is the energy that you'll be in when you first meet them but you'll be trying to stay open to love

✬ 'Marry your daughter' started playing, you'll both share an emotional connection right from the start even when you don't want to, this is so cute