#;ooc reblog

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.

[sagesskies]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ʀɪᴠᴀʟ (ɪ)

✒ ʙᴜᴍʙʟɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴀꜱᴛ

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇꜱ: ᴇxᴘʟɪᴄɪᴛ ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ, ʙʟᴀᴄᴋᴍᴀɪʟɪɴɢ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ꜱᴛᴜᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ᴛʀᴇꜱᴘᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ, ᴛʜᴇꜰᴛ, ᴠᴏʏᴇᴜʀɪꜱᴛɪᴄ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ɢᴀʙᴇ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙɪᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴇᴘ. ɪɴꜰᴏʀᴍ ᴍᴇ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴍɪꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀɴʏ!

Yandere Rival, who is used to being second place in everything. It came with being Richard Shepherd's brother, even if the ass didn't even get to go to college, and it sure as fuck was a guarantee with having Raphael as his twin brother. But with Raphael gone, he thought: Hey! At least he'll be at the top now. They won't like him as much as they'd ever like Raphael, the thought would keep him up at night occasionally, but that’d be easy enough to get used to. 

And that was the case for most of second year, where people respected him a bit more and stopped looking at him as just the stupid, brutish brother and now as the stupid, brutish, ‘King’ of the school. There were certainly other, more well liked people, but they didn't have the same control like Gabe did, simple as that. 

Yandere Rival who is able to keep this status till the third year. What was meant to be his year, is now yours. 

“Who even is this guy?” Gabe slams his food tray to the table with the force of the anger building beneath his skin, some of the fries jump off and land on the metal surface, “He's some new kid, and yet-” 

Gabe is interrupted by the sound of laughter, he grips so tightly onto the side of the tray that he thinks that if he held it a bit tighter there'd be dents. 

“Sam,” He takes a deep, shaky breath, “Tell me. Is it from his table?” 

“Uh, I don't think you'd want to know..” 

“Samuel Moss,” Gabe feels the anger inside him weaken from satisfaction when Sam flinches, “You don't want to test me right now. Tell me, right now.”

“..Yeah.”

Gabe strikes his fist against the table, the harsh sting only serving to piss him off further, “Damn it!” People stare, but he can't bring himself to give a single fuck. Besides, Luke is here to glare at them hard enough for them to look away. 

“Apparently, this guy's from the city,” Sam explains, “They're all probably just fascinated ‘cause he's a city boy, they'll move after a week or two.” 

Gabe is still staring at him. He's surrounded by people all around the lunch table, they're all laughing, smiling, having a real laugh. 

Gabe digs his nails into the skin of his palm, ignoring the pain when he draws blood. The humiliation from earlier today during gym class is still there. He can't believe it. Bested in dodgeball by some kid from the city. 

He recalls their brief conversation, and he can feel his face grow hot with anger. 

“Like what you see?”

“What are you? Are you gay or something?” 

“I could ask you the same thing. Maybe you shouldn't stare so much. You're sending the wrong message.”

“You'll be fine bro,” Luke claps him on the back, foolishly oblivious to the irritation in Gabe’s eyes when he whips his head around to scowl at him, “This [Name] guy, I bet he won ‘cause of dumb luck. I mean- he had that loser Todd on his team and that guy has absolutely zero hand-eye coordination.”

“You know the word coordination?” Sam paused, a single inch away from taking a full bite from his sandwich.

“Shut up, asshole,” Luke scoffed. 

Gabriel tunes out their bickering, and focuses back on [Name]. 

He was like Raph in a sense. The two of them shared what seemed to be a natural finesse when it came to communicating and speaking with others, as well as an aura that attracted people to them like moths to a flame. But that was where the similarities ended. 

From what Gabe saw earlier, [Name] was cunning, a bit more quick witted than Raph who, while he was pretty smart, was no match for [Name]. 

[Name] glances at him, and their eyes meet again like they did back in gym, and [Name]’s already present grin seems to widen.

He mouths something, it takes Gabriel a few moments to process what he said before turning red once more, and swiftly turning away.

You're staring. 

Well, he was definitely not. 

Yandere Rival who you clearly don't take seriously, at all. After all, why would you waste energy caring about some dude who was a bit too obsessed with you, when you were too busy with everything else going on in your life? 

Yandere Rival who always felt like you were one-upping him on purpose. Oh, Gabe led the football team into winning against the school’s rivals? Well, [Name] was the MVP in a basketball match against the previous state champions. 

Yandere Rival whose thoughts are consumed by you. You're just so infuriating! You're so cocky, arrogant, and stupidly handsome that it's distracting him even more. There's an unexpected side effect to this, which is Gabe pulling out his dusty sketchbook, and drawing you in various unfortunate situations just to try to vent his anger. 

There's a drawing of you being burned alive. A drawing of you being eaten by crocodiles. A drawing of you getting hit by a semi-truck. A drawing of you… smiling after a match… based off a photo of you he cut out from the school paper… and pasted on his wall. 

The last time Gabe put a pen to paper was before Tommy left. Tommy set him aside, and asked him to make him something he thought he couldn't draw.

Gabe did it, only because Tommy looked jittery, and when he showed it to Tommy, his older brother told him, “Well, see? You can draw it after all.” 

Tommy took that drawing with him when he left, and Gabe never felt like using his sketchbook again after that. 

Now he's the age Tommy was when he left them, and amidst his childhood art is the face of his most hated rival. 

From the slant of [Name]’s nose, to the shape of his lips, to the very length of each individual eyelash, Gabe had somehow captured a scary amount of detail of [Name]’s visage. 

He hates to admit it, but he has been staring at [Name]. But it's not his fault when [Name]’s appearance is just so naturally distracting.. He needed a way to get the image of him out of his head, and he believed that drawing would be a good way to just… eject the guy's face out of his mind. 

So here he is, bent over his desk, sketching out every little piece of [Name] and breathing life into the images of him in pain. Gabe grips the pencil with a tense hand, and drags it across the paper to make the final few strokes… and then, he’s done. 

The pen falls from his hand, and he looks at the image. It’s of [Name] in sportswear nursing a sprained wrist. A realization hits him and he scowls.

“Fuck, not again.” Gabe buries his head in his hands and groans. This was the fourth time. The fourth! The fourth time that he’s drawn [Name] from real life. [Name] had sprained his wrist because of an accident during practice and Gabe saw him outside the school infirmary in the same exact outfit with an icepack on his wrist. 

His heart aches for a moment, and he curses once more. 

No matter how much draws [Name] in pain, he doesn’t feel any better. Not one bit.

There is none of that satisfaction that he had gotten with Raphael. Although the night it happened, there was a hollowness that carved itself inside of him, there was also a side of him that was pleased at the sight of the dirt and blood beneath his fingernails. Proof that he’d done what he needed to. That he’d taken care of his problem like a man, and saw it through.

And while Gabe wasn’t the kind of guy to sit around and.. Ugh, ponder about his feelings, he did have to admit that it was weird hurting [Name] didn’t seem to sit as well with him as it did when he got to beat up whatever dickbag stood in his way. 

If he couldn’t bring himself to use his fists, then maybe he could try to use his brain this time. 

With a deep breath, Gabe picks up his pencil and starts to write. 

How do I ruin [Name]? 

Yandere Rival who tries many things. He makes vast, elaborate (not really) plans that he executes to varying degrees of success. Sometimes he plans to sabotage you during basketball practice. He tries to defame you through his ex who’s part of the school paper. One time he placed laxatives in your water bottle… except it was your teammate’s water bottle. 

The only thing all plans had in common was that they all failed.

Honestly, he starts to lose hope. There's just so many schemes a guy can attempt to pull of before realizing that maybe he's not meant to be an ideas guy, and more of a physically assault and attack kind of guy.

But then…

Yandere Rival who, one day, he's coming out of the showers after practices and racking his brains trying to think of another plan, he hears the sound of your voice as soon as he steps foot into the parking lot. You're in Coach Jones’ car, a hole in the window from when the last year's seniors threw a rock at it, and you're unbuttoning his shirt. He's unzipping your jacket. And…

Yandere Rival who had to restrain himself from charging straight at the car, practically tear the door open, and drag Coach Jones out of the driver's seat and pound his face to an unrecognizable mess with his fist. That disgusting old geezer, Gabe knew something was up with him. And you…! You… Fuck. He's too pissed off to string together a single sentence that could describe what you were making him feel right now. 

Yandere Rival who has shit grades, who can barely focus during class, and is as calm and as patient as a bull in a China shop. But he's not that stupid, okay? Because as much as the rage threatened to swallow him whole, it clicked in his head that he could use this, exploit this little vulnerability of yours. 

[Name] was hooking up with the coach! 

Yandere Rival who tucks himself into bed for the night, but can't sleep. Seriously, he can't get the sight of you in the coach's car out of his head and it's burrowing itself deep inside his mind. It bothers him more than it reasonably should. He didn't question it earlier because it was so shocking, but now that he's had the time to stop and think about it.. 

Why were you in the coach's car to begin with? Surely, if you were gay, you'd at least have the standards to fuck somebody that wasn't, you know, the sleazy coach. Somebody your age, with a better body, and who wasn't a huge pervert.

Yandere Rival who is so busy pondering why that he doesn't get any sleep, and he's occupied by it even when he's watching Sam and Luke beat up the little loser Marty Kaye and steal his camera. The question grows louder, echoing further when he's finally managed to catch you and the coach again. The leaves and branches inside the bush scratching at his letterman jacket, the camera light flashing red as he takes a picture of the two of you at the school parking lot late after school, nobody around except the athletes who are preoccupied with practice, the coach has his nasty lips on yours and he's pawing at you like a desperate animal. The entire time he ignores the way the front of his pants starts to tighten.

Yandere Rival who develops the pictures himself in the school's darkroom, and makes as many copies as he'll need. He makes ten, he takes one and keeps the rest in a shoebox beneath his bed marked with a simple ‘DO NOT OPEN’. Before he goes to bed one night however, he ends up taking one of the photos out of the box and as long as he didn't look at the coach... He would never admit it but you looked fuckin' hot.

When it's just the two of you alone in the locker room after gym class, he corners you after your shower and waves the picture in front of your face with a cocky smirk that grows as your eyes widen and your face grows ashen with dread. 

[Name] tries to snatch the photo from him but Gabe dodges easily, stepping backwards and sticking it in his pants for good measure. An image pops in his head, a desperate [Name] tackling Gabe down to the floor and digging through his pants to get the picture. His hand brushing against his clothed crotch. The thought has his cheeks heating up for some reason.

“Fucking-” [Name] grits his teeth and his hand balls into a fist, “How'd you get that?”

Gabe hikes his pants up, hoping that [Name] can't see that he's blushing, “That doesn't really matter now does it? You should be less worried about how I got the picture, and more about what I'm gonna do with it.” 

That shut [Name] up quite well, the other teen bites his lip before clicking his tongue. He crosses his arms, and has the nerve to let out a scoff, “Huh, okay. Tell me then,” He leans back against the tiled walls, “What's your great plan then? For your sake, I hope it works better than the previous ones.” 

Gabe hates it, but in that moment he can't help but flinch, whatever gravitas surrounding him dissipated, “You knew-”

[Name] barked out a laugh, he throws his head back only for it to come down as he shakes his head and sighs, “I'm not an idiot like you. Jesus Christ, you couldn't be more obvious if you tried.”

The tip of Gabe's ears turned red. This was fucking embarassing, not only did each plan fail spectacularly, but [Name] knew, he didn't do anything to interfere in them, yet they still failed regardless. 

“Whatever,” Gabe clears his throat and avoids making eye contact with [Name], who is now the one sporting an amused expression, “Anyways- Aren't you wondering what I'm gonna make you do?” 

When Gabe was imagining how it would go down in his head, he envisioned [Name] panicked and visibly distressed. Practically sweating buckets as he rambled on about how he would do anything for Gabe, as long as he didn't reveal his secret. 

So far he was getting what he didn't want. Apathy. 

Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration. [Name] didn't look bored, but he did look irritated, and Gabe was getting the inkling that this was the closest he'd get to an emotional outburst from him. 

“Honestly, Shepherd, no offense but I just don't think you have the mental faculties to come up with anything that isn't extortion,” [Name] pauses for a moment, before his lips curl into a wicked grin, “You do know what the word extortion means, right?” 

“I know what it means!” Gabe has to remind himself that he can't yell, so he settles for hissing out the words between gritted teeth. 

[Name] laughs, “Ha, yeah… sure,” He smirks, “So… was I right?” 

“...” 

Honestly speaking, Gabe hasn't thought much about what he'd do. He was so caught up in figuring out how to use the camera, then how to develop the pictures, then making the copies… that he hasn't really stopped to think about what he'd actually do to [Name] when it came down to it. 

[Name] could probably tell, since he rolled his eyes, “Whatever.” He adjusted the towel around his waist, but before he could actually take another step Gabe grabbed him by his arm. 

“Hey, I didn't say you could leave-”

“Shepherd, unless you wanna see my dong, then I'd strongly suggest you let me put my clothes on.” 

“Oh,” Gabe lets go of him. He can feel his own dong start to harden for some reason and he tries to will it to settle down, to no effect.

“Yeah,” [Name] snorts, he turns around before he can see Gabe's buddy perk up, as he leaves to go change he mutters under his breath, “That's what I thought..” 

The sound of [Name]’s footsteps grow farther, Gabe can eventually hear him open his locker and the faint muffled sound of him digging around for his clothes. 

Gabe slumps back against the wall. He glances at the clock on the wall. 

12:11. 

He'd have the entire lunch period to think of what to do with [Name], if he couldn't right now.

“Fuck,” Gabe mutters under his breath. 

Why didn't he think of what to do last night?�� 

His cheeks burn red. 

Oh right. 

He was doing… that. 

Gabe drags his fingers across his hair the same way his mother used to when he was young. For some reason, it was always able to settle his mind. Perhaps it was the repetition of the sensation that calmed him. 

Nonetheless, it got the job done. But now all that was left in his mind was the quiet and the quiet was making Gabriel tap his foot against the floor and rub his palms together restlessly. 

“Oi, [L/N],” Gabe finally calls out in the silence, but when he gets no response he immediately straightens. He looks at the clock and curses. 

12:18. 

Gabe walks swiftly to the lockers, trying not to slip, and groans when [Name] isn't there. 

He kicks a locker and ignores the sharp pain that follows. 

“Bastard!”

Yandere Rival who confronts you after school, he waits for you outside the lockers after the basketball team’s practice ends and doesn't waste a moment before he drags you back to his own car; Heedless to your protests. 

He's had the time to think, and he's decided on what he wants you to do. 

“You're gonna be my henchman.”

“...What the hell are you on, Shepherd?”

Yandere Rival who uses you as what we would call a PR manager. You're a tool yes, but a valuable one. 

Yandere Rival who only has what can be called a proud smile on his face when news spreads around school that Gabriel Shepherd and [Name] [L/N] were now ‘best of friends’. Meanwhile the expression on your face can only be described as ‘bitterly resigned to the fate of spending your senior year as Gabe’s fake best friend’. 

Yandere Rival whose reputation grows significantly once he has you in his circle. You're practically his right hand man at this point, and you may as well be. You're certainly better at planning than he is, and you definitely have a better understanding of other people and what makes them tick. 

You come up with many, and I mean many ideas about how he can make people like him more and honestly they work.

Yandere Rival who starts hosting more parties, using the large land that encompasses the non-farm part of his home when his dad is off on a business trip, and hosting parties at either Sam or Luke's when his dad is around. Never yours though, strangely enough. But forget about that. The parties. Oh lord, the parties. Good alcohol, good music, everybody who is anybody at the school is present, and really, you're the one to thank for how well they always go. It makes Gabriel more popular, yes, but it also increases your own popularity, which is an unfortunate side effect. 

Yandere Rival who, for the sake of keeping up the facade that the two of you were the absolute bestest of friends, does his best to attend all your games. Heck, he even has Sam and Luke bring along a banner they made the artsy geeks make to support you and waves it around while practically bellowing out: “Go [Name]!” The entire time. Does he enjoy it? …Maybe. There's a small part of him that has fun going to these games and cheering you on. There's an even smaller part of him that he makes sure to ignore, a part of him that enjoys carrying out all your creative plans not just because they improve his standing, but also because… it's just fun doing them with you. Even if you’re an ass. 

Yandere Rival who pulls off more wild things with you than merely throwing fun parties and sometimes pulling pranks on the teachers. 

The weekend before the big football championship, you and Gabe, accompanied by Sam and Luke, take a trip to two towns away where the school’s biggest rival is located and by nightfall, the four of you break into the building to steal the school’s ‘lucky charm’: The Spirit stick. 

The four of them had climbed over the chain link fence near the track field, Luke catched Sam and Gabe catched [Name]. The air was chilly, and the earth was soaked and muddy from the rain. 

“Let’s go through under the benches, we don’t want to be tracking mud on the floor,” [Name] tugs the hood of his jacket further down his head.

“Alright,” Gabe places a hand over his eyes, clicking his tongue when droplets of rain manage to slip through. 

They make their way to the double door leading inside the school, unfortunately there are chains around the handles of the door and a padlock holding them together.

“Shit,” Luke grunts, “What now?” 

“Should we go back?” Sam turns to Gabe. 

“Nah,” [Name] is already crouching, he pulls a jackknife out from his jacket, “I’ve got this.”

Luke snorts, “Ha. What are you gonna do? Cut the chains?” 

[Name] stares at him blankly, only to pull out each individual part of the jackknife, exposing that it had a lockpick set inside. 

“Ah…” 

[Name] raises a single brow, completely unimpressed, “You were saying?” 

“Whatever man, just get to it.” 

Gabe has done many things since he’s become… ‘friends’ with [Name]. He drank alcohol, did a bit of weed, and snorted some coke. Hell, he nearly hit a deer when the two of them were driving them back from visiting [Name]’s dealer in the next town over. 

Let’s just say that Gabe was a bit (just a bit!) distracted. 

([Name]'s lips, plush and wet, parted slightly with a joint stuck in between, just a bit of tongue exposed between the gap) 

But that was all small stuff. This? This was most definitely a crime. Not like he was going to complain. Nah, he had Sam for that.

“Dude, are you sure we should be doing this?” Sam’s eyes kept flashing back and forth, warily watching, waiting to see if anybody was around to catch them in the act. 

“Aw, you scared Sammy?” Luke cackled, he was leaning against the wall, covering [Name] on his left, “You’ll be fine, your daddy’s the damn chief of police.” 

“Fuck off Luke, don’t be a dick-” 

“Shut it,” Gabe was covering [Name] from view on the right, you can say what you want about Gabe, but you can’t deny that he’s got a good glare, “Both of you.” 

Luke rolls his eyes, yet concedes. 

Sam lowers his head, “Sorry..” 

[Name] glances at Gabe out of the corner of his eye, and Gabe can see there’s a small smile on his face. A silent thank you. 

Gabe scoffs, but he can’t help the smile that creeps on his face. 

The more time he spends with [Name] the more he finds that the guy isn’t as bad as he thought he was. Seriously, sometimes he forgets why he even hated [Name] so much. He was a good guy, all things considered, except for all the drugs, alcohol, and now this. 

Nobody has done something like this for him before, not Sam or Luke, not even any of his brothers. It was strange knowing that somebody was willing to commit an actual crime for his sake. Gabe isn't even sure if they're friends, they shouldn't be, but it was hard to think that considering everything they've been doing together. 

Gabe still can't forget what happened at the last party. Every time he blinked he would remember the sight of [Name] with his wet shirt sticking to his chest, absolutely drenched after diving into the pool on a dare. But that wasn't what mattered. Nah, it was what happened later. It was clear that [Name] was still a bit drunk, and when he went to get a towel, but took longer than he should've to come back Gabe…. got worried. 

He thought [Name] slipped or something, and so he went to look for him, only to find the guy dozing off near the laundry machine below the cabinet the towels were in. 

Gabe tried to wake him up, but instead through a series of events, he ended up bringing [Name] up to Sam's bedroom and tucking him in. He wasn't even allowed to go back downstairs because [Name] would stir and glare at him sleepily every time he even took another step towards the door. 

It was annoying, but… it was good. 

He felt needed. 

Before he could think about it further, the lock opens with a click, and falls to the ground with a weak clang. 

“You actually did it!” Sam gaped, “How the hell do you know this stuff?” 

[Name] smirks, his chest puffed out, “A magician never tells his secrets. Now come on,” He removed the chains and then held the door open, he grinned and gestured for Gabe to enter, “Ladies first.” 

Gabe glared, but merely rolled his eyes. There was no time to waste after all. However, before Gabe could enter Luke grabbed his shoulder. 

“What is it?” Gabe huffed. 

“Dude, our shoes are wet. Use the scraper mat first,” Luke points to it, and demonstrates by using it himself. 

[Name] beams, “Smart. Nice job Luke.”

Luke chuckles, “What can I say? I try.” 

Gabe rolls his eyes, “Wish you could try using your brain more during practice, maybe then we wouldn't be having to do this shit.”

Luke frowns, this was a sore spot for him, Gabe knew that, “Don't be a dick man.” 

Gabe clicks his tongue, “Whatever.” 

He ground his feet on the scraping mat instead of actually, you know, scraping, but it worked. 

The familiar sensation of hot, stuffy anger burning at the center of his chest appeared but Gabe didn't know why. Usually he could pin down what triggered it, what triggered him, but right now he had not a single clue. 

When all of them finished drying their shoes, Sam and [Name] even go so far as to squeeze the remaining water out of their clothes, Luke shuts the door behind them and Gabe takes out two flashlights he bought on one of their fuel stops. 

He tosses one to Luke who catches it easily, and turns it on immediately. After a few failed attempts, Gabe smacks his own against his palm one more time before it finally turns on properly. The two beams of bright light illuminating the hallway and the surrounding lockers. Their walls were lined with green banners, festive posters, and small flags with the school’s name and mascot on it. All in the school colors. Probably the school celebrating their ‘certain victory’. 

“Alright genius, where do we go now?” Gabe turns to [Name]. 

“Well…” [Name] claps his hand, “I guess we’ll find out together!” 

Sam’s eyes practically bulged out of his sockets, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

[Name] simply pats Gabe on the shoulder, and before Gabe can do or say anything else, he takes the flashlight from Gabe’s fingers with the deftness of a practiced pickpocket, and walks further down the hall and deeper into the school, barely making any noise. 

“He’s not serious is he?” Sam glances at Luke. 

“Don’t look at me man,” Luke shrugs, “Let’s get going before he leaves us behind.” 

The three of them catch up to [Name], though it is only Gabe who matches his pace. The two of them walk beside each other, [Name] flashing the light around, still searching for the Spirit Stick, [Gabe] on the other hand is sticking close to [Name] and not thinking about much else. Really, the only thing on his mind right now is how nice it is to be around the warmth that was radiating off of [Name], how comfortable it felt to just be beside him. 

“So…” [Name] breaks the silence, his voice is low enough that it was clear to Gabe that the conversation was not meant for the four of them, but just for them, [Name] and Gabe, “Are you mad?” 

Gabe’s brow furrows, “Huh?”

“Don’t act like you aren’t,” There’s a trace of a grin on [Name]’s face, but Gabe has come to understand that grinning is merely a reflex for [Name] at this point.

“Why would I be?” Gabe whispers back. 

[Name] opens his mouth but before he could speak Luke speaks up in a volume that Gabe never heard him speak in before, “Pst, guys! How about we split up? 

[Name] looks like he’s about to protest, but Gabe cuts him off, “Alright, let’s meet up here in… twenty minutes?” The four of them were standing at a crossroads, south led the way they came, north was further down to where Gabe assumed the cafeteria would be, and then there was the west and east which Gabe assumed would be where the classrooms were. 

“Yeah, that should be good,” Sam nods, “Luke and I will take west, you guys take east?” 

“Hey wait-” 

“Sure,” Gabe grabs [Name] by his arm and is already dragging him along despite [Name]’s protests, “Let’s investigate the north side if we don’t find the spirit stick.” 

“Aye aye, captain,” Luke playfully salutes him with a goofy grin on his face, before giving them a wave goodbye as he and Sam went down their own hall. 

Gabe and [Name] got farther down the hall before [Name] shook Gabe’s hold off of him with a very heated glare.

“Gabriel,” [Name] hisses, “Why did you do that?” 

Gabe shrugs, “I don’t want those two idiots overhearing our conversation.” 

That was a lie, a big boldfaced lie. Gabe would rather die than admit it, but he felt like Sam and Luke were sort of like… third wheels. Guh. He wished there was a better way to describe it, but Gabe’s limited vocabulary left him with only that term. Additionally, he didn’t like how buddy buddy Luke was getting with [Name]. 

They weren’t meant to be friends. Really, Gabe, Sam, and Luke shouldn’t even be doing this with [Name] at all. Period. But at least Gabe had an excuse, he had an image to maintain. What reason did Luke have? That’s right. Nothing. The oaf was better off sticking with the other oaf.

[Name] rolls his eyes, he focuses the flashlight straight ahead and starts walking, “Why are you such a dick to those two guys?” He glances at Gabe, who was steadily keeping pace with him, “I thought you guys were friends.”

Gabe chuckles, and for the first time he got to see a confused expression on [Name]’s face.

“Oh, you're not joking,” Gabe halts, “Well… we're not. They stick around because I'm the only popular guy they can actually tolerate.” 

And not to mention what happened with Raph. But well, that was just one of the… more important factors. Still, at the end of the day it was just one of the bullet points on the list of reasons why it was good for them to hang out with Gabe. 

“Dang.” 

“Cat got your tongue [Name]?” 

[Name] shrugs, he peeks around the corner and flashes his light down the hall, “Tsk, still nothing…” 

Gabe sighs, he doesn’t appreciate the sudden change of subject much, but fine. He can admit when there were more pressing matters to attend to. The longer he stayed inside the school the more he got creeped out. Since he was young Gabe had a fear of the dark that got better as he grew older, but as the two of them continued to walk down the dark halls, lined with metal lockers, and decorated to show school pride, the more Gabe felt like something was staring at him.

“What’s the Spirit stick even look like?” Gabe doesn’t want to, but he squints into the darkness anyway. 

[Name] glances at him from the corner of his eye, and the half of his face that Gabe can see in the barely illuminated darkness is giving him a very deadpan look, “Your girlfriend literally carries the damn Spirit stick for the pep rallies.” 

“She’s not my fucking girlfriend,” Gabe glares at him, “We just fucked once.” 

[Name] smirks, “Not yet at least. A little birdie told me that she really likes you-”

“[Name],” Gabe stops walking, and stares [Name] down with an expression that, based off [Name]’s flinch and sudden folding in on himself, does exactly what he intends it to, “She’s not. My. Fucking. Girlfriend.” 

He didn’t like to think of her. Not that the sex was bad, really it was decent. Mediocre at worst. Nah, what made it hard to think of her was the memories of what he had to do to win a place beside her in bed. He still can’t look her brother in the eyes sometimes. 

Besides, he didn’t want to talk about her. Not in front of [Name]. For some reason, him talking about Gabe’s sexual escapades just… made him feel weird, when he’d usually be raring to boast about it. 

[Name] rolled his eyes, but his shoulders were noticeably more tense and his grip on the flashlight seemed to grow tighter, “Fine. Whatever. Sorry, I guess.” 

The rest of the walk was spent in utter silence, broken only by Gabe’s occasional request to you to flash the light in a specific direction, before once more being enveloped by the heavy blanket of an awkward silence. 

Eventually the two of you did find the spirit stick. Near the school trophies, right outside the principal’s office, encased inside a glass box, that was unfortunately locked. However, Gabe had you, and you had already displayed an unusual prowess at picking locks and this was no less easy. The two of you meet up with Sam and Luke at the agreed upon time and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. 

Yandere Rival who, when he gets home, can’t sleep. Seriously. The earlier conversation was still playing in his mind and he just… God, he was so stupid! Why’d he have to snap at you? You were just teasing him like you usually did. Why did this bother him so much? It shouldn’t. Yet it did and- Grah. 

Gabe spends the night tossing and turning in his bed, his mind is restless as the image of [Name]'s hurt expression plays itself over and over. Each time he closes his eyes, he sees him; lips pulled down into a frown, his brows knit in a pitiful expression that has seared itself into his brain like an unwanted tattoo.

He grabs his pillow and buries his face into it and groans.

"I'm such a dumbass," Gabe mutters.

Gabe closes his eyes and tries once more to go to sleep, but when five minutes pass and his mind is showing no sign of settling, he kicks off the blanket, and gets off his bed. He makes sure to keep his footsteps light so nobody can hear him moving around at- Gabe glances at his clock- two in the morning.

He opens his drawer slowly, and pulls out his sketchbook. Flipping through the pages of his childish drawings and his sketches of the man that's keeping him awake, he pauses when he catches sight of his barely legible scrawl.

HOW TO RUIN [NAME]

Gabe can't help but scoff. Technically he did succeed. He had [Name] under his thumb after all, didn't he? But it was undeniable that [Name] was far from ruined, if anything he seemed to be doing even better than before.

He's about to go to another page, when his eyes land on a drawing of [Name] smiling wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts. Gabe remembers the reference he had for it. He didn't do a live sketch, no, it was all just his memory.

[Name] was hanging out with his friends, carefree and genuinely happy, and Gabe just so happened to be driving by the town's community basketball court where they were playing a game. He simply glanced outside the window, doing a bit of people watching since the road was clear, and the sight of [Name] had him rolling his eyes and he was about to turn away, but then he smiled and he was taken aback by it's brightness.

So taken aback that he stopped driving altogether and was now in the middle of the road, straight up staring at [Name]. He was snapped out of it when a car behind him honked and the driver was waving his fist at him angrily.

Gabe chuckles, it was funny now in retrospect, but it wasn't so funny that it distracted him from how embarrassing the situation still was. He takes a deep breath and exhales, feeling the air release itself in how the tension in his shoulders seem to lessen.

An idea pops into his head as his gaze continues to rest on the drawing. Gabe chews on his bottom lip as he thinks about it, before finally opening his drawer and taking out a pencil. He turns on the table lamp, and guides the pen on the paper to draw the look that's been keeping him awake.

Gabe wonders what [Name] means to him at this point. He didn't hate him anymore, at most he felt a bit irritated when [Name] would tease him. He liked him, but not in the way that he thinks a friend should like a friend. His version of like is a little crackling fireplace in his heart that's keeping it warm. He doesn't know if it's normal, if that's what being friends with somebody felt like for everybody else.

But [Name] wasn't everybody else.

Maybe this was just a special kind of like that only Gabe could feel, and he thinks he's fine with that.

☏ - ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇᴍᴀɪʟ: [ɴᴀᴍᴇ], ɪ… ᴊᴇꜱᴜꜱ ᴄʜʀɪꜱᴛ. ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ. ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ.. ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ᴍʏꜱᴇʟꜰ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴀɴᴅ ʀɪɢʜᴛ?

[angelyuji]

violent short-tempered yandere type characters

i cant remember where i got this idea. either i saw it on a show or it came to me in a dream.... alsooo im mostly basing this off of rick sanchez cuz im insane and i love my men crazy, smart, and old. im also addicted to rick and morty rn and im praying the next season comes out soon..... anyway

tw // murder, kidnapping, yandere stuff, treating someone like an object/pet (i cant remember the word for it)

they're busy people. they dont have time to date you or stalk u for long periods of time. they’re impatient and short-tempered and generally assholes. they literally saw you once and thought u were the cutest thing ever.

they watched, angrily, as your partner’s hand squeezes your butt. they watched as you giggled, lightly pushing your partner. they knew in one glance that you shouldn't be with your asshole partner. you deserved better. someone smarter, kinder, stronger like themselves. their fists clenched as they pushed past everyone in the way, seeing red. no one is allowed to touch you like that except for them. no one should be able to feel your warmth and see your smile except for them. they finally get close to the two of you and in one quick movement, your partner’s brains had splattered onto the pavement. your scream filled their ears and a sense of peace filled them. they grabbed your arm and the two of you disappeared from view.

you dont even have to meet them. one quick glance from you is all they need. they kill anyone in their path. anyone that poses a threat to you. anyone that even thinks about taking you away from them.

theyre mean to you, but all they want is to keep you safe. to hold you. to keep your love to themselves. they’re so easily jealous.

(like how rick cares abt his family, but he’s still an absolute asshole to them) (rick brainrot guys i need the old fuck NEOW) (i think i just love fictional older men who have committed heinous crimes…) (anyway)

the only time they’d be kind to u is if they feel like you’re pulling away or thinking of escaping. its a lot of hot and cold. you would constantly annoy them. to them, you should be seen, not heard. there when they need comfort, but you need to fuck off otherwise. you’re quite literally their pet. they keep you to entertain them.

definitely: homelander, omni-man, sukana, william afton, ooc rick sanchez

maybe: canon rick sanchez, ooc captain america

[ahollowgrave]

hey come here

reblog your own work. reblog it as much as you want. the dashboard is chronological (mostly) so you gotta put it back out there!! ok bye

[preservationofnormalcy]

OPN Anniversary Sale!

It's approaching one year since I posted the very popular post with my first set of poster designs. Since then everything has blossomed into a huge part of my life and I couldn't be more grateful.

As a celebration, I'm having a sale until the 26th.

With this link, you can get 25% off a full color 11x17 poster.

Additionally, if you buy an art card bundle you can pick an extra per bundle amount (one for the 5-pack and 2 for the 10-pack)

If you get a mini sticker bundle, you can pick one extra per the smaller pack and two extra for the larger.

Keep in mind I'm still honoring my donation rewards for my co-writer's fundraiser for her cat, details here - include the proof with any purchase and I'll double my offer, two extra art cards. If you purchase a poster from me and donate Penny at least $10 USD, I'll throw in a black and white 11x17 poster of your choice.

IT's been a wonderful journey. Thank you all for all your support. I have a lot of plans, and I hope I get to do even half of them!

[bloodsworn-marshal]

Looking for more ffxiv centric blogs (especially other NPCs) to follow!! Especially ones with rp, writing, art, gposes, etc of your characters ♥️

Please like or reblog 🔥

[selfinserttothestars]

I always kinda thought that Deuce was the type to very casually put an arm around someone while talking

And that Ace isn’t (bc he’s too guarded but I digress)

@ramshacklerumble hi I had the urge to draw Gia again I hope you don’t mind

[piningpercussionist]

Okay. Fellas. Real talk. I've seen some of you do it and I thank you profusely for doing so but can yall PLEASE credit the original artist of that piece yall kinda made into an a dtiys/art meme? That's not official art. I am point blank refusing to engage with any of these pieces that I see not doing such. (Even when it pains me to keep scrolling, because some of them are really good!! And I want them here!!! But I do have some rules for myself I try to stand firm by with this blog.)

Like you can literally see them say right there that it's fine IF YOU CREDIT. I'm fucking begging you.

I'm not mad at anyone who didn't know but I've seen SO MANY versions at this point, and I think I've seen maybe 3 or 4 of them RECENTLY include the credit. (And one with improper credit, I think?) Please. Please just. Tack it on.

[xanfeursel]

I'm going to be honest I think what frustrates me the most about there being so much content about notorious child hater astarion being a parent in a nuclear family unit as opposed to literally any other character is because like. wyll literally becomes a canon father in one of the epilogues. besides laezel he's the only one to do so. how much dad content have you seen for wyll compared to astarion or even laezel. I had some people I've talked to not even KNOW wyll becomes a parent like. come on. come on

[gemscales-and-tea]

The never-ending cycle

[thegimmickblog]

What if I kept the post revealing my main, but changed the text?? >:)c

Thank you all for joining me in the boopening!!

[sensitivehandsomeactionman]

"What is your furry costume?" | SPNMinn 2023

[i-am-emmet-real]

//new ask game

Idk if this has already been done. If so, sorry.

Send me a 🎶 or [music note] to get a song/lyric that reminds me of my muse(s). I may or may not explain why.

[54prowl]

I'll draw him once the results are out!

!!!reblog for more votes!!!

[dragonskxn]

A realization

[right-on-schedule]

ask game ask game!

send an ask with your best impression of this blog's posts! be sweet, by funny, be mean (in character), make them spot on or really wrong! send or react to them in or out of character! remember to send an ask to the person you reblogged this from!