Since His Official Outfit As An Student Is This, And Many People Hc Him As Part Of The Ramshackle Dorm,

Angel having a Chandler Bing type of job is so funny to me (David is the housewife, Angel is the breadwinner, but I digress)

I can just imagine the mates (Sam, Babe and Sweetheart) having a heated discussion about what the hell Angel actually does. And then Babe messages David and he just says ‘they do statistical analysis and data reconfiguration’

And then after a beat of utter shock, sweetheart just says ‘they’re a fucking accountant???’

Because Angel Shaw is many things, but somehow that also includes being an accountant

i love making toxic lesbians

@foddercaptain

@somemismatchedsocks

@dr3aming-stargaz3r

@inefficientstory

@eclipsed-jester

And more ;3

james is a better man than me coz if that little rat was stood in my office after all the shit he pulled he wouldve left that room in a very small box

i wonder who’d say such things 🫢

damien you’re such a skibidi sigma and i want you to know that

do you know that? you should

Im going to hunt you down and vaccum seal your lungs shut.

Redacted hyperpigmentation

Thank you too @wuegh

Freelancer: i sat here and posed for like ten minutes, let me see the product

Caelum: bu- uh- *shows the picture*

Freelancer, holding in laugh: is that me?-

Caelum: *slams the book down*

Freelancer: no! n-no! it’s nice!- it’s so nice- ohh! i nEVE-

*Gavin, laughing his ass off*

Freelancer: -i never looked better!

*freelancer picks up the book, showing gavin who is laughing is ass off*

Freelancer: ooh where were you- where were you when it was time for senior photos?

Caelum: freelancer i don’t think is looks good…

Freelancer: it is FANTASTIC!! ohh my god! what is that? is that hyperpigmentation??

Freelancer: just te- okay… you know what? i never seen nothin’ like this before. i just want you to keep up- keep it up!

Caelum: why was gavin laughing..?

Freelancer: GAVIN DONT KNOW WHAT HE DOIN’ ANYWAY. that’s how you say that’s a great drawing in french

*GAVIN ABSOLUTELY CACKLING AND WHEEZING*

CAN'T stand his ass

i’m ok i swear

Snowflake and Xavier Angst!!

Trigger Warnings- Mentions of self harm, mentions of death, self destructive tendencies

The heat of the game. DAMN was tied with the opposing team, 30 seconds till the games ends. The captain runs through the field, gaining the finial point.

“Good job Xavier!” Snowflake shouts cheering for the captain.

The player freezes, talking off this helmet. It was Huxley. Xavier is dead.

Their smile fades as they leave their fellow cheerleaders behind, running into the nearby gym. They collapse to the ground curling into themselves. Soon they hear the door open and close, the sound of a pair of footsteps.

“Tempest. You in here?” the familiar voice says.

Soon they can see huxley kneel down in front of them.

“Hey dude, how are ya?”

“i’m fine Hux. Good job with that point.” they say, wiping their tears.

“I heard it. Not everyone did but me and the cheerleaders did… It’s been hard on everyone and no one blames you.”

“But I should be over it!”

“Tempest he died a few months ago. No one expects you to be over it. We’d be worried if you were. You planned to marry him, everyone knows how much you love him.”

This leads Tempest to continue to sob into Huxley’s chest.

“I love him so much and he was taken from me by those bastard shades. I’m going to kill whoever caused that shit.” they shout, electricity surrounding them, hair standing up.

Regardless of the pain that would normally come from the electricity is numbed by the padding of the uniform.

“ I know Tempest, everyone wants to get back at them. They’re bastards, plain and simple. But you can’t do that if you tear yourself apart. Your training so much and barely resting or eating,” he pauses for a moment,”I’ve seen your scars too.”

Tempests eyes shoot wide open. “what?”

“I’ve seen the scars, you can’t kill your self. He wouldn’t want to do that.”

“NO SHIT HUXLEY” they scream, trying to push him away, “but life isn’t worth living without him and I’d die a thousand times over to see him just once.”

Their attempts to escape the man’s arms are unsuccessful, eventually collapsing out to exhaustion.

“It’s alright snowflake. It’ll all be ok.”

Grief is inevitable. In the many years and lifetimes that Gavin has lived through, he knew that fact through and through.

The love of his life, his Freelancer, had passed with a soft content smile in his arms. Seventy years had passed since he first met them.

He saw their youth and was with them every step as they aged - they always looked beautiful no matter what. He tried to reflect that in his own appearance too, after catching the way that their eyes would flicker in pain whenever they caught their reflection in the mirror next to his. He loved aging together with them, even if his own evidence of the passing of time on his face was artificial. He revelled in the way their smile lines were so deep with every passing year, and his heart was filled with warmth at the realisation that he caused it. He’d rarely seen them without a smile, after all.

They knew their end was nearing, and asked for him to stay with them, lying in bed in their home. He gently wrapped them in his arms and listened to the slow, weak beating of their heart. Even now, they had a smile on their face. They reached a shaking hand up to his face, and caressed it. A single tear fell from their eye.

“I didn’t know love until I met you.” They whispered. Gavin felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Their eyes sparkled with love until their last breath.

He thought he knew grief after the inversion. But this was different. It consumed him - his mind, his body, his every thought and breath. It felt wrong not to have the warmth of their body pressed to him. It felt wrong to have his core so empty, dull without the taste of love radiating from them. He looked at his aged face in the mirror and couldn’t recognise himself. Who was he without his Freelancer? How did he live before he met them?

Months and years passed. He wandered around aimlessly, feeding the bare minimum amount needed to survive, although he didn’t really know if there was a point anymore. He had altered his appearance back to what it was before he met Freelancer, hoping it would help him move on.

He was stupid to think he ever could. He doesn’t want to.

He wandered into the nearby 7-11 and went through the motions. He only feeds once every month or two now. The lonely man he chose as his “meal” was now sucking him off - it was quite a poor effort, but Gavin couldn’t care any less.

The doors opened, setting off that annoying jingle that played throughout the store. The person walked in, slowly browsing through each aisle before picking up a cup and filling it with a slurpee.

Gavin’s head snapped up when he heard the sound of a cup dropping. Shit. He thought he’d cloaked them. He must’ve gotten rusty.

Then, he saw them.

The same eyes. The same energy pulsing through their core. They looked a little different - different eye colour, younger, and their features rounder than before, but Gavin was sure.

It was them.

His Freelancer.

The moment they locked eyes, theirs wide in shock and cheeks reddening in embarrassment, he tasted it. Gods. That sweet warmth of their desire.

And of course they’d ask for directions in the midst of this awkward situation.

Gavin couldn’t help but cry.

In that moment he realised,

Love was eternal.

He found his way back into their heart quite easily, for he knew every part of them intimately, both inside and out. Although their physical body had changed a little, he revelled in being able to explore this new side of them, relearning their sensitive areas. He was beyond pleased to feel their affection for him exceed lust - of course it did. This was his Freelancer, after all. The same kindhearted, loving Freelancer.

He could feel their core, a little fearful but determined and pure with affection, reaching out to him. They confessed that they loved him, and were awaiting his answer with shaking hands and the nervous pounding of their heart. Their eyes teared up, overwhelmed by the excitement of the prospect that he might love them back, but also the fear that he might reject them.

Oh, Freelancer.

He immediately took them in his embrace and kissed them, deep. He felt whole again. He felt alive. He tasted their love, now unrestrained, and melted at how sweet and familiar it was. He was home again. They smiled through their happy tears and whispered;

“I didn’t know love until I met you.”

Their eyes sparkled.

Love is eternal.

i don’t know where else to put this but sometimes i wonder if milo’s dad ever sobered up and just stares at old pictures of him, milo, and marie as a family and just regrets neglecting them (if there was even a moment where they were together happily)

Grabbed vro and ran for the hills 😭😭