They / It // This originally was just a fandom blog, but now you have to deal with my bullshit. // Assume me to be dead if I don't post for a day, thanks.
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In This Household, We Differentiate Between Brain Hours (work, Studying), No Brain Hours (mindlessly
In this household, we differentiate between brain hours (work, studying), no brain hours (mindlessly scrolling tumblr, playing video games), and fun brain hours (writing, drawing)
More Posts from Anexistingexistence
Oh he's such a manipulative bitch. He's such a manipulative piece of shit and we love it
Like we all know that William doesn't mean any of what he's saying here-
Now, I'm not naming names, but there are a few specific people who are to blame for my resurging obsession with violent William/Porter, you people know who you are and you are fully at fault for the way I've been using my free time lately u-u
To quote a reblog I once got:
The idk if I want to be with them or be them group; Milo, Vincent, Gavin
I need them to interact with each other Erik.
Made a custom phone case today and it looks fucking sickkkkkk
It's not functional at all but who gives a fuck it has charms!!!!
I have and I loved it -w-
On one hand I want to tell people in graphic detail how Porter would willingly cut open his chest and break all of his ribs out of his ribcage one by one in front of William while he watches in a strangely homoerotic way just because he asked him to but on the other hand I don't want people to think I'm some sort of freak
Half cooked thought
Is the immortal Gavin x mortal freelancer angst absolutely delicious? Of course, of course.
However, picture this:
It's been a quite some time since the Freelancer has deceased, Gavin learned to live with the grief once again instead of slowly rotting away, once again out. Yet, with the certainty that he will never meet anyone like them, will never love someone as much as he loved them, if he ever brings himself to loving anyone like he loved his deviant.
That is, until he finds them again.
Working at a 7/11.
A freelancer with their same eyes, same voice, same soul. Simply impossible, but they're right in front of him, smiling (with their same smile) and asking him if that'll be all.
His mind is running 1.000 miles a millisecond. This is impossible, he was right beside them when they passed, all wrinkles and a satisfied expression, a face that only a person that lived a beautiful life could have.
Yet, there they are, no wrinkles and a confused expression at the gorgeous man borderline gawking in front of them. They looked exactly like they did the day they met, even the location was the same.
He quickly learns, after this one passes away as well, that they come back. Again and again. Always looking the same, same soul, same pleasure, same core.
I guess even death can't stop true love. And a stubborn freelancer set on loving their arrogant incubus. <3