#fanfiction over billing

[meepetteoneonly]

Recovering after wisdom teeth extraction with some RaphTav slowburn fiction in progress. It’s not billable but it’s fun. IYKYK.

[joyceyayo]

No way I’m playing DD&MD with dipper and ford 😭

[kingkat12]

the mark of death (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: angst, blood, bodily harm, the title oop

summary: Roman has been gone for too long tonight-- what happens when you eventually find him?

word count: 1,379

a/n: happy halloween!! this is definitely a genre i don't dabble in very often, so i apologize in advance... this is taking dark!Roman to the next level, but i'm feeling experimental, so hope you'll enjoy!!<33 but beware pls pls

"Why?" Roman's voice was low, on the brink of breaking, as his grip around my throat held me pinned against the cold brick wall behind me. "Why would you come down here? I told you-- I tried to keep you safe, and you leave me with no choice now! For fuck's sake!"

This was probably the worst night of my life so far. Everything suddenly made sense-- everything. The nights Roman would disappear and come back with bloodstains on his clothes, the way he'd act around me when I was on my period, and the one time I caught him eating a completely raw piece of meat in the middle of the night with a crazed look in his eyes.

I thought he was odd. That he maybe had some weird cravings. That the blood on his clothes was from nosebleeds, that he perhaps had a weird period kink he didn't want to share-- I had pushed it all away, focused on my love for him, but it all made sense tonight. 

I initially thought he was cheating on me, which compelled me to check his location. I tracked him down to this alleyway when he didn't answer his phone. It was about three in the morning, the sun had yet to rise, I was worried out of my mind-- but I found him crouched over a dead man, and his face was covered with red, dripping blood as he finally turned to me.

Having my boyfriend's bloody face up in mine was something I never thought would happen. Roman's pupils were completely blown, and I could see the uncomfortable twitch of his jaw— probably due to the extra set of teeth that had ripped through his gums to abide the killing of his prey. 

Why hadn't I caught onto the fact that he was a upir? Why, why, why?

The smell of iron stained the walls of my nose, making me want to throw up. I sniffled, my eyes darting towards the lifeless body of the man a few steps away from us.

My fingers were digging into Roman's hands, nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin as I attempted to claw my way out of his hold. Despite my trachea being left untouched as of now, my breaths came out in short, laboured grunts, fighting him. "Get-- off!"

Roman groaned, pressing his body further up against mine; "Answer me!" A mix of fear and anger swam in his deep green eyes, the anguish present in the breaking of his voice. "Why did you come down here?!"

I was about to burst into tears. I would've, if I wasn't so scared. "I was worried!" I yelled, holding back my building sobs. "You've been so weird recently, I just-- hah, wanted to find out why! I was worried, Roman! But now I see it's been obvious, all this time!" 

With widening eyes, Roman let out a shaky breath. "It can't have been obvious," he breathed, jaw clenched. "No one has found out. Ever... And no one can know."

Fuck-- I was terrified out of my mind. "I'm your girlfriend, Roman, you could've told me!" At this point, I was kicking at him to get away as tears pressed up in my eyes; it was clear that I shouldn't have done that. In a swift motion, the grip around my throat tightened, his free hand reaching down to pin my body further against the wall to stop my thrashing. 

That was it-- "Fuck you!" I cried, the wave of choked tears finally rushing down my cheeks as my fear heightened in my chest.

Roman didn't find any pleasure in this. "Stop it," he hissed. "Stop moving, you're making things harder!"

"What things?!" My hands went to his jacket, bunching up the collar in my hands in a panic. "It's just me! I love you, please-- Let go of me!" 

"I told you to stay home," Roman echoed, his grip around my throat lifting just a little. I could see the guilt in his eyes, the horror, but I watched as it distorted into what I could only classify as instinct. "I told you... Why don't you ever listen?" With his last words, he pushed me against the brick wall, causing a sharp blow to my head.

I let out a pained sob, attempting to kick him once more. Enraged, Roman grabbed my body, dragging us both down to the ground, his tall body hovering above mine as I cried against him. "Don't!" I cried, shutting my eyes in fear. "Don't, Roman, I love you, please don't!--"

"Shut up!" He loomed above me, visibly torn as a drop of blood ran down his chin and onto my cheek. I shivered in disgust, squirming in his grip as I sobbed; "I won't tell a soul, I swear! I promise, I won't! Just let me go, you won't ever see me again!"

Roman sighed, his brows drawing together in conflict and heartbreak. He didn't want to do what he knew he had to. "I told you," he breathed, his grip around my body tightening. "I told you to stay home. I didn't want you to see this... It's not safe for anyone to know what I truly am."

"It's-- It's okay!" I tried. My breath hitched as I forced my eyes open, realizing I was pleading for my life. "It's not your fault, Roman, just let me go! You have urges, I understand, but I swear, I promise, I won't!--"

My desperate ramble was cut off when he leaned down to kiss me. I nearly threw up in my mouth; the taste of blood, the smell of iron, the way he forced his tongue into my mouth-- I had never been this nauseous. It felt like the kiss lasted for hours, days, as I pleaded with the heavens above for it to be over soon. Those plush lips that I never wanted to leave me before, were now causing me discomfort I had never felt in my life-- I wanted him gone. I didn't want to be here anymore.

This was a goodbye, wasn't it? 

When Roman finally pulled away, I was sure my face had turned blue with the lack of air in my lungs. I could see in his eyes that the game was over, that he had already made up his mind.

I let out a scared, broken sob, feeling the sticky blood stain my mouth as my tears ran down my face. "I love you," I truly had, with all my heart. "Don't do this. Please don't."

It was too late. I saw it in Roman's eyes, the way they hollowed out as he hovered above me like an animal with its prey. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "No one can ever know, not even you--" Before he could finish his sentence, Roman's jaw started cracking open, almost against his will. The sounds alone were enough to terrify me beyond limits-- the cracking of his bones made me squirm in fear, and my horror didn't subside at the sight of his sharp teeth. 

A look of dread streaked him as he fixated on the blood around my mouth-- he had marked me. The mark of death. 

I let out a scream when Roman's sharp teeth sunk into me, tore through the muscles of my neck, drained me of every drop of life as I clawed at him, fighting with all my might. It lasted a minute, and I felt the rain on the ground seep into my clothes, making the fight one I knew I couldn't win. 

Even worse, was the feeling of his tears against my neck, his hard breathing, the slight tremble in his hands as he held me down— I love you too.

Despite his all-taking sorrow, Roman was meticulous. He had done this before. So, as my arms fell limp against the cold ground, he slowly retreated from my dead body with shaky steps. He covered his bloodied mouth with his hand, suppressing the urge to throw up.

"Stupid girl," he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut in horror. "Stupid. Stupid."

Roman bent down, his tears staining my shirt as he wrapped his arms around me, dragging my body down along the dark alley. He didn't get very far— with a sob, he succumbed down on his knees, holding me against his chest. 

No one will ever know.

[cypher2049]

I wish I was good at writing bc. The fic potential in these two images is INSANE I have so many ideas.

Can we talk blind eye pines twins??????? Because that's *wild* and I need I need a fic about it asap

[andiv3r]

About to go scour ao3 for a fic where ford drinks human blood and bill is like "omg this guy is a FREEEEEAK‼️" and if I can't find one then well. Guess I'll have to write it myself.

[buggoblin]

I feel like I’ve just been divinely blessed with a great gravity falls fanfic idea but I’m not really a writer nor do I have tons of time but I think I’m going to at least write my idea down so I can have fun imagining it

[maddcelestial]

“What’s the worst case scenario?” Mable says emphatically. “We crashed the golf cart, so what? We’re both still alive! At the end of the day that’s all that counts…. What’s the harm?”

Tony chuckles. “Hah… aw… nothin’ that should be on your conscience, doll…” he looks forward, sunglasses off. “This ain’t gonna help my case with Dipper, that’s for sure…”

“Dipper? What?” Mable is trying to console him. “What case with Dipper?”

“Cmon, now. I can tell the way he feels about me.” Tony gives Mable a look. Saddened. Mable frowns and looks away, a little awkward.

“He’s just being difficult.”

“Well… I gather a lot of bad things happened to you all…”

“Well yeah, but…” Mable sighs. “Yeah…”

Tony gestures for her to sit down. She does.

“Imagine stuff like this but… every day. All the time… don’t get me wrong it was fun! But there were a few times where I….” Mable looks away again. “…I don’t know.”

“You thought it was the end for you, huh?”

Mable slowly nods. Tony sighs.

“That’s no walk in the park… must have been scary.”

“Yeah…” she smiles and nods. “I mean… I wouldn’t change anything about it… but… I don’t know.”

“I get ya… believe me.” Tony smiles.

[sophsicle]

kyd, chapter 18

[i-have-41-protons]

Chapter 4 of Many Summers Away, And It’s Not Over is now out!!!!

Enjoy *leaves this here and scuttles away* :3

[sk1fanfiction]

Chapter Nine: Red Rum, Red Hands

Oh, he’s spotted it,” said Blaise from behind her, his voice giddy with anticipation.

“Who?” asked Parvati.

There was no answer, because Harry and Cedric both seemed to dive in unison, robes snapping in the wind after what must be the Snitch near the ground, far too small to see.

“Now, the technique Potter’s using’s called a Spiral Dive—” Blaise began.

“Shhh,” said Parvati, almost dangling over the railing. “They’re so close!”

The two Seekers were neck and neck, hands outstretched, pressing themselves flatter against their brooms—

Then they both pulled up. Hard. The Snitch must have slipped away.

“Well, wasn’t that hair-raising?” called Lee, and the stadium cheered in approval. “It’s still anyone’s game, sixty to eighty, Gryffindor to Hufflepuff — but Johnson’s currently doing her best to make that score even.”

The tension in Harry’s shoulders as he rose was clear even from far away. The Gryffindor stands yelled encouragement, but he seemed indifferent, unhearing as he watched the swarming chaos of red and yellow below. Cedric looked similarly contemplative.

And then, it happened.

Cedric dove.

“Diggory spotted the Snitch!” called Lee. “With Potter in pursuit — no, where’s Potter, why’s he just sitting there? Earth to Potter!”

“Why isn’t he following?” asked Parvati, the wind from Cedric plummeting blowing her hair back from her face.

She was right; Harry was just sitting there, casual as you please.

What if something’s wrong?

“Wronski Feint,” Blaise supplied. “At least, that’s what Diggory’s attempting. But Harry knows there’s nothing down there.”

Indeed, Harry’s face was tilted towards the sky, scanning the clouds with a tense, quiet determination.

Is that really what he’s doing?

Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff, but, believe it or not, Harry and Cedric's last match-up is far from the most exciting event this Saturday. Read from the beginning at FFN|AO3!

[infriga]

A kind of funny trend I've noticed is that many fanfic writers who write for fandoms that take place in Japan often aren't aware of the fact that Japan has universal health care. I've seen quite a few fics set in Japan with whump/hurt comfort plots that mention large medical bills as if it's taking place in America lol.

[thelightningstreak]

FFN, whyyyyy

I didn't know email alerts on FFN disable? And it says it'll reset to no/disabled after 6 months, but then the confirmation says it's every 90 days omg

Y'all if anyone has been sending me messages via FFN and I haven't responded, this is why, I'm so sorry

[octoberobserver]

A Quiet Storm - A Bill/Frank Fic

(Read on ao3)

“I still can’t believe you have a coffee maker.”

They were the first words spoken into the usually-quiet kitchen at just after dawn on day four.

Bill grunted in the affirmative, enough to acknowledge that he had been spoken to but not enough to carry on a conversation. Something Frank was quickly learning was his default in most situations.

“A working coffee maker. With fancy artisan beans. In the apocalypse,” Frank chuckled as he sipped from his cup. “I really have heard it all now.”

He felt rather than saw Bill begin to bustle around behind him, gathering the makings of breakfast.

“Thought you mighta left,” he said suddenly, so quiet that Frank almost didn’t hear him.

He froze, cup halfway to his lips.

“What?”

Bill shrugged, his back still turned to him as he lit the stove.

“I woke up and…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, the sizzle of fried onions filling the air.

You weren’t there went unsaid but not unheard.

Something panged in Frank’s chest at that. He had been surprised when he managed to untangle himself from those strong, sturdy arms without waking him, but he had somehow. Tiptoeing out of the room to go explore a little. It was the first time he had awoken before his vigilant host, and he couldn’t help but take another look around the fascinating, if somewhat unkempt, house. It wasn’t snooping, not really. He was just…curious about the mysterious home of the even more mysterious man, was all.

He honestly hadn’t intended on sharing a bed with him every night. Didn’t want to be presumptuous or anything. It just sort of…happened. But fuck, was he glad it did. Being in someone’s embrace, being held again, after so, so long of sleeping alone and scared and fitful, was…a dream among nightmares. And Bill’s arms felt safe, protective, even though he clearly didn’t mean to spoon him in his sleep and always broke away all quick and embarrassed when he woke up. It was cute. He was cute. In a grumpy, he doth protest too much kinda way.

“I wouldn’t just leave without saying goodbye, Bill,” Frank assured softly after a beat, knowing that if he had any say, he wouldn’t leave at all.

Bill nodded at that, his back still turned, but his shoulders noticeably less tense.

It had been a nice three days. Like a mini vacation from the horrors of the outside world. But something loomed over them. Something big and dark and the absolute, very last thing that Frank wanted to discuss.

A few more days. That was what he had said that afternoon as he took Bill to bed for the first time. And he made good on his word, he wasn’t a whore who had sex for great lunches. He had stayed and helped Bill with some general upkeep around the house that it had been seriously lacking in recent years, surreptitiously cleaning up where he could, earning his keep like any good houseguest not paying rent. He was no freeloader.

But ‘a few more days’ was in danger of turning into ‘overstaying his welcome,’ and Frank knew it. He feared Bill did too.

“Storm’s comin’,” the gruff voice that was on its way to becoming familiar to him cut through his impending spiral.

“Hm?” he asked, forcing himself to take a sip of coffee and shake off those troublesome thoughts.

“A storm. A bad one,” Bill repeated, louder this time, as he transferred the onions onto his plate. “We’ll need to batten down the hatches.”

We.

The small word had warmth blooming in Frank’s chest. It took a herculean effort not to comment on it.

“Alright, boss, just put me to work,” he couldn’t help but quip back, as Bill finally turned to catch his eye, an adorably flustered look on his face.

Frank found that he liked that look on Bill’s face. He especially liked causing that look on Bill’s face. Whether in the kitchen, in the bedroom, or anywhere else for that matter. That look made him downright giddy. And he was quickly becoming addicted to it.

“Uh, we’ll—we’ll need to clear the gutters,” Bill continued, his voice a little strained as he went back to assemble more food on his plate.

Frank shoved down the urge to make the obvious dirty joke. But just barely.

“And trim some of the bushes and maybe cut down that tree in the back in case the wind gets it.”

He did his best to listen as Bill outlined his smart, responsible plan but found his eyes wandering to the expanse of his shoulders, remembering with vivid clarity how his nails had scratched a jagged line down between them only a few hours before.

“—right?”

Frank blinked.

“What?”

A plate was placed down in front of him, turned clockwise. A heady scent of musk filled his nostrils as Bill's arm brushed against his.

“Are you listening to me?”

“No,” Frank replied honestly, staring up into those large blue eyes. “I was uh…a bit distracted. Sorry. Tell me again?”

He let his gaze roam over Bill appreciatively, delighted as a gorgeous blush joined the flustered look he had become so fond of.

“The uh, gutters will need…”

He let his words wash over him, taking them in this time as he devoured the delicious meal, nodding where appropriate and stealing glances at his host in between bites.

They headed out after breakfast, the first splatter of misty rain darkening the early-morning sky as they got the ladder and set to work. The tasks took most of the day, with brief reprieves for a short lunch and shorter dinner, the sky growing gloomier and gloomier as time wore on.

Frank made attempts at light conversation with limited results and did his best to aid Bill however he could—holding out a bucket to collect the leaves and other gunk from the gutters, keeping the ladder steady for him, and just about managing to not sink to his knees in reverence at the sight of him wielding an axe and chopping wood like something straight out of his teenaged Paul Bunyan fantasies. It was a long, arduous, sexually-frustrating day.

“Get inside,” Bill barked at the first flash of lightning that lit up the sky later that evening as they were finishing up. “Get inside, Frank. Now.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, barely restraining a wince as a roll of thunder echoed in his ears.

Heavy droplets of rain pelted down on them as they raced back towards the house, feet stomping in the mud. Bill’s strong hand gripped his shoulder, steering him steadily and keeping him upright when his feet almost slid from under him.

Just as the backdoor of the house came within reach, an almighty crack of lightning splintered across the sky right above their heads, causing Frank to jump in fright, his left palm colliding with the rough edge of the doorframe.

Hissing in pain, he felt the jagged wood pierce his skin.

“Are you okay?” Bill asked as they stumbled through the door, his breath causing the hair on the back of Frank’s neck to stand up.

“Frank, are you okay?” he repeated, his tone a little more urgent this time as he slammed the door closed behind them and propped one of the kitchen chairs up against it.

“Wha—yeah, yes, I’m fine,” Frank forced himself to reply, his eyes locked on the large beads of crimson pooling in his palm.

Another hand appeared in his blurry eye line—rough, calloused fingers clasping his gently.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled, still staring at his palm. “It’s just a—”

“Go sit at the table. Don’t touch it,” Bill cut across him, shuffling off god knows where with an almost frantic pep in his step that had Frank puzzled.

Heaving a sigh, he did as he was told, carefully folding himself at the head of the table and grimacing at his stinging hand and the way his soaked clothes clung to his body. A slight shiver ran through him as his back rested against the chair, effectively gluing him to it.

Before he could peel himself off the seat, a movement caught his attention. Bill was striding back into the room with vigor and set mouth, slamming a small, dark green case down onto the table and taking a seat to his left.

“We’ll need to get you outta that shirt,” he groused, waving at his now practically-translucent white T-shirt.

“Oh Bill, you smooth talker you,” Frank couldn’t help but tease, pleased when the predictable blush rose on his cheeks.

“I meant that you’re soaked through. Last thing we need is you gettin’ pneumonia.”

With that, he shoved a dry, black T-shirt and towel into Frank’s uninjured hand and threw open the mysterious case, revealing an array of medical supplies—bandages, disinfectant, cotton swabs, gauze, and an assortment of band-aids.

“Wow,” Frank stared wide-eyed at the stash. “You really are prepared for anything, huh?”

“Hmm,” Bill grunted, grabbing a myriad of supplies. “Don’t mean I got somethin’ for everythin’, though.”

“Right, right, I’ll do my best not to get pneumonia,” Frank replied, awkwardly shifting in his seat to try and peel off the shirt one-handed. “I gotta say, though, I do have a newfound appreciation for Tammy-Leigh from college. How she entered all those wet T-shirt contests night after night, I’ll never know.”

He made several botched attempts at pulling it over his head before a loud sigh, followed by two hands clutching his shoulders, had him stopping in his tracks. Stilling, he let Bill pull the fabric up and over his head, manoeuvering his good hand out of the sleeve. Once it hung loosely at the wrist of his injured hand, he looked up.

Bill was staring down at it with an unreadable expression before slowly, and so, so gently, taking his wrist and pulling the shirt down and off, letting it fall to the floor.

Frank let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding as Bill turned his palm in his, silently assessing the damage. Brow furrowed, he took out some sort of clear solution and dabbed it onto a clean flannel.

“Some good news and some bad news,” he murmured, eyes focused on his task. “Good news—no splinters. Bad news—this is still gonna sting like a bitch.”

With that, he pressed the cloth to Frank’s skin.

“Motherfucker!”

“Told ya.”

Bill worked quickly but attentively, cleaning the wound, steadily wrapping his hand in gauze, and securing a bandage tightly at his wrist with a safety pin, his fingers brushing against the thin skin of his pulse.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Frank couldn’t help but ask when he finished, his brain buzzing with something. “Will I live?”

Bill let out a noise between a chuckle and a scoff.

“You’ll live. Your piano-playing days may be limited, though.”

A surprised laugh escaped Frank as he reluctantly took his hand back.

“Well, good thing between the two of us, you’re the maestro, then.”

Their eyes locked. That same unreadable expression was on Bill’s face. It was a little frustrating if Frank was honest with himself. He was so used to being able to read people and thought he had Bill’s number that first day, but as time wore on, he realised that there were layers to him that weren’t so easily peeled back.

It was kinda fascinating, too, if he was even more honest with himself.

“I’ll sand down the doorframes tomorrow,” Bill murmured before standing and heading over to the window to peer out through the drapes.

Frank watched him for a moment, drinking in his silhouette framed in the window, his heart aching with a feeling he wasn’t sure he could name yet.

He was moving before he knew it, coming to stand beside him.

“Storm’s pretty bad, huh?” he remarked as lightly as he could, staring out into the furious darkness with a furrowed brow.

He felt Bill step ever-so-slightly closer to him.

It was at that moment he realised that he had yet to put on the dry shirt and was standing there, bare-chested, in the middle of the dining room. And if Bill’s repeated darting looks were any indication, he had noticed too.

“Wow, look at me all indecent. The neighbours will talk,” he joked, making to take a step back to the table where the new shirt still lay, when Bill’s fingers shot out and wrapped around his uninjured wrist, halting him in his tracks.

Their ragged, mingling breaths were the only sounds in the room as the world thundered outside. Frank’s gaze lingered on Bill’s jaw, which was clenching and unclenching as he struggled to say whatever it was that had been clearly plaguing his mind since that morning.

“You can…stay a few more days. If you like.”

The words were quiet, hesitant, and just a touch vulnerable.

And suddenly, Frank, for what could’ve been the first time in his entire life, was lost for words of his own. So instead, he reached out and gently cupped Bill’s cheek with his injured hand, brushing his fingertips along his skin in thanks.

While mother nature wailed outside, here, a quiet storm brewed between them, one rife with the potential of what could be.

He wasn’t sure who stepped closer first, but their lips met in a chaste kiss all the same.

A flash of lightning lit up the dim room as Frank deepened the kiss, licking into Bill’s mouth and swallowing his moan. An excited thrill ran through him when Bill walked him backward, pressing him into the wall, between the window and the grandfather clock. Emboldened, Frank grasped his hip, pulling them flush together as he broke away to bite along his neck.

A tiny, winded mewl wrenched from Bill’s throat at that, his breath hitching as Frank straddled his thigh, pressing his rapidly hardening cock against his.

“Ngh, Frank—shit, I…”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I got ya,” he mumbled back, reaching out and cupping him through his jeans.

Another wounded sound escaped Bill as Frank latched onto his earlobe, nipping at it playfully.

“You are great at surviving, Bill,” he murmured into the flushed skin of his neck, reflecting on his impressive display these last few days. “But how are you at living?”

Bill could only offer another moan, his fingers digging into Frank’s hips so hard they were sure to leave bruises. That thought shot another bolt of arousal through him.

Forcing himself to break away, Frank's gaze trailed Bill’s face as he fought to catch his breath.

“What do ya say? Take me to bed?”

Something enigmatic passed over Bill’s face at that.

“Are my first aid skills really that impressive?”

Another surprised laugh escaped Frank at that.

“Hey, I’m not a whore who has sex for medical attention, either,” he quipped, raking through Bill’s hair and tugging in such a way he had been learning he liked. “But I gotta admit, that sexy lumberjack routine you pulled today has had me half hard since lunch.”

Bill looked absolutely stunned at that piece of information, so Frank took that opportunity to begin walking him backward, out towards the stairs.

“Come on, Paul Bunyan. Show me what ya got.”

~*~

The storm broke a few hours later, just in time for the early-morning sun to peek out through the clouds and into the bedroom. It was that sliver of light that had Frank stirring awake, blinking up at the ceiling.

“Good morning.”

He felt a pleased smile spread across his face as he glanced to his left to find Bill looking down at him, eyes still a little soft with sleep.

“Good morning.”

They watched each other for a beat, drinking each other in before slowly, gently, leaning in for a kiss, morning breath be damned. And somehow, despite having had sex not six hours ago, this touch felt more intimate, more loaded.

It had Frank’s heart hammering in his ears. It had the potential to be even tender if they let it.

Oh, no. You’re in trouble, Frankie boy.

“I have coffee brewing. And the chickens laid some fresh eggs.”

Big, big trouble.

“Sounds great,” he forced himself to croak back, trying and failing to shove down the fond feeling growing in his chest.

With that, Bill nodded and got out of bed, making his way toward the door. It was when he reached out to the handle that Frank called to him softly, halting him in his tracks.

“If it’s still okay with you, I’d like to take up your offer of staying a few more days.”

Slowly, Bill turned and met his gaze.

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, his eyes crinkling at the edges as a tiny, gentle smile graced his face. “A few more days…”

In the end, it was 8,547 more good days, bad days, fun days, boring days, terrifying days, beautiful days, and everything else in between. But even with the whole world gone to hell, neither one of them would sacrifice a single one.

“I’m old. I’m satisfied. And you were my purpose…”

[obsessive-jan]

can anyone out there make a fic where Bill (Bill & Ted) is Marko (Lost boys), he is immortal but Ted isn't, so it follows Marko watching Ted grow old until he eventually passes.

This idea has been floating around my mind for weeks! I just don't have the mental capacity to write angst 😭

(If someone has/will do this, tell me immediately pls!)

[bastard-sweet]

Image ID: Two light-mode screenshots of three Tweets by dear @/planet of deer. They read,

‘“fill harry pitter with trans rep”, “fill disney movies with gays”, “queer the mcu”, etc. all miss the fact that these corporations will never ever see you as anything other than a demographic to exploit. the queer art you want is being made by your peers.

the queer art you want is in 19th-century novels and pre-code silent films that you won’t read/watch because they’re old and “problematic”

queer art is all around you but one place it is not is in the multiplex of the newest four quadrant superhero film’ End ID

[novodontia]

Guys I'm gonna be honest, I'm fucking terrified about KOSA and the fact that it might pass. Like, as a minor, I WANT to still be able to use the internet. To read my silly fanfics, and look at other people's amazing creations. I don't want that taken away.

Being on Tumblr and with everyone here has helped me cope so much in the past few years, that if I loose it I don't know what I'll do. Because it'll all be censored.

Content about LGBT, information about recent events, protests and even anything as small as fucking fanfiction might be taken away be weeks end.

I'm scared. I don't want to loose it all. And I'm gonna fight for it tooth and nail to be able to keep what I have, and I ask that anyone who sees this helps the cause too. Because it's bigger than just me. Every single person online will be affected.

Call or email your senators and ask them—PLEASE DENY THE KOSA BILL. The website I've linked below has more information.

and to any friends or followers I have on this; thank you so much. You all have meant the world to me, and if it's over, I just want everyone to know that it's been great. Hopefully it won't come to that, but still. Thanks :)