#reversecxpid

[rcmingtons]

👫

Daniela absolutely loves to watch Gabriel practice shooting his bow -- she gets bored easily but could sit for hours in silence staring at him shooting arrows.

When Gabriel seems off or upset, Dani can almost sense it and her mood will immediately change. Especially in a group of people. She will stay close to him like a lioness. 

If she has any struggle with anything (even opening a jar) she has Gabe on speed dial and never hesitates to call him even if it’s three am and she can’t get her necklaces off because she is drunk.

Daniela doesn’t like Gabriel’s father at all. She feels that he is way too hard on him and is always shooting the Italian man dirty looks when he isn’t looking.

[tysonnhartt]

👂

send 👂 to overhear my muse talking about yours.

“Alright, so first of all, fuck you for sending me to that creepy ass warehouse in the middle of East Jesus nowhere at an ungodly hour. But also thank you because I ended up meeting this really cute and mysterious stranger who may or may not be a serial killer with a bow and arrow so jokes are you, jackass. OH, and he has a cat. We both know how I feel about that.”

[oriansmemory]

👫 ( for Eli )

Eli makes Orian feel like he is looking straight into her soul whenever they make eye contact. 

Rian really likes to see his smile -- which is why she cracks terrible jokes any chance she gets in front of him. Even if it’s at her own expense. 

Often now when she grabs warm colors to paint with, she thinks of Eli and his honey-hued eyes.

On her way to school she passes the flower shop to check if he is working that day.

[brightlightsbigcityrp]

Ansel Elgort?

I would sell both kidneys to see Ansel on the dash!

[maikwons]

tropes: gabe && mai

not afraid of you anymore // soulless shell // the corrupter // the corruptible // i am not my father // emotions v stoicism // vengeance feels empty // what you are in the dark // take me instead

@reversecxpid

[maxbronte]

@reversecxpid // (Continued from here.)

“Yet, you give yourself the freedom to point fingers at possible suspects for all the Creeper performance”.

“Gotta accept this was a good one, Bronte. You paid attention to Philosophy class. How long did it take you to come up with this? Were you awake all night trying to find the perfect way to roast my moral code, or are you as shallow as me to simply judge my beliefs for the little things you know? If the so-called truth is subjective, so is right and wrong, and who knows? Apparently to the eyes of the Creeper he’s doing right and we’re doing wrong. We work under the same code, if you think about it. We’re punishing those who we think should be punished, the fact that I decide to say it out loud and show my face just makes me look like a more honest person… or cynical, however you prefer to say it. It’s the same thing. I have WATCHED YOU, Maxine. I know you don’t think I’m plainly evil and bad, but I’ve killed more people than the Creeper has… apparently, yet you don’t feel as threatened with me. Why is that? Is it because I show my face? Is it because I left an odor bomb in your locker and that makes me more… Elementary-school-evil?”

“I’ve been considered an anarchist for going against the law, which is a simple bunch of sentences that is the base of our occidental society, but ANARCHY MEANS COMPLAINING WITHOUT SOLUTION, and I offer a solution. I AM THE SOLUTION. I’m not an anarchist, I’m liberal. People call me monster, but am I? I killed cheaters, pedophiles, rapists and murderers. The news may say the streets are safer without me, but they don’t stop to think that I wasn’t killing innocent people. I was killing those who deserved it. I CLEANED THE CITY better in three years than the police department in centuries. Society just punishes everything it doesn’t understand or goes against its code”.

“TRUTH is subjective. And so, I have my right to accept your words and try to do something to change my life around and become a better person –oh, sorry– a person accepted by the society, or I can continue with my deeds and believe in my own truth”.

“Nothing is true. Everything is permitted”.

He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

He wasn’t supposed to BE HERE. She made it a point to take this phonecall somewhere more private to express her concerns to Jimmy about the company he’s been keeping. She even made sure not to have this conversation in person so Jimmy wouldn’t realize she’s been drinking behind his back. And in retrospect, that drinking is why she didn’t notice there was someone else on this fateful garden perch.

             “ Jimmy, I--- I’ll talk to you later. ”

Phone's slipped sheepishly back into her pocket while she debates if she has the confidence to turn around and face The Rising Son.

Here’s the thing about Gabriel: he may be a bigger threat to her and everything she is and everyone she loves than The Creeper Himself. He would kill Sid. If he ever knew his big secret, about what Sid got away with, how he let someone else take the heat for the crimes he committed. He’s a murderer at large. He would kill Mikky and Mr. King if he knew what The Wallflower seemed to know. Maybe he would kill Norie. Maybe he’d kill Cypress.

After all, he would definitely kill Max. And she’s surprised it’s taking him this long. Maybe he’s given her a free pass so far just because she didn’t get away with her evil plans. Or maybe he’s just waiting for the right time to kill her and all her morally gray friends and break out of Plath forever. She’s been ignoring the thought; denial tends to kick in when she gets too overwhelmed-- but now the fact of the matter is here, in the flesh, giving her a Hannibal speech that sends shivers down a fragile spine, and she has no way left to ignore him. 

If he’s done the research he says he’s done, it won’t be long before he starts questioning what she’s trying to do with Jimmy this time around. And she’s realistic enough to assume that he’s going to assume the worst; she’s smart enough to realize he’s a loyal friend.

There’s no talking her way out of this. He’s going to try to kill her here. With no witnesses around.

But she’s come too far and been through too much not to go out with her twitching middle finger in the air, so she turns around and takes the first step forward, bony hands balling into fists at her sides.

                        ��    “ FUCK yourself, Schrödinger. 

            “ That’s  NOT  how  it  works.   That’s--- that’s the opposite of how it works.      You can’t just... fucking---!!  MURDER someone because your truth said there was nothing ‘innocent’ left in them.  You think you took out all of the creeps and the cold-hearted murderers on that street? ”  There’s a frustrated little purse of lips. And in a moment of stupid tipsy death-wish courage, she SHOVES HIM. 

                                               “ I think you MISSED ONE !! ”

She’s too flustered to articulate where’s she’s going with this: EVERYTHING IS TRUE. NOTHING IS PERMITTED. From Gabriel’s perspective, he’s doing some sadistic god’s work. From someone else’s, he’s the brave little visionary who saved her from a loveless marriage. But from the mother of at least one of 57 victims, he’s the boy who took her son away-- and she found out the morning she decided not to stop at the liquor store on the way home, before she got a chance to apologize for not being there for her child, before she was going to let him move back in with her so they could sort their lives out together-- and the self-righteous so-called liberal deserves nothing less than the gallows for that. And doesn’t she have good reason? Or was it too little to late for her to turn him and herself around?

There are no wrong answers here, because in the end, your answer doesn’t matter. You may not even believe the story that that mother was just about to reach out to her son. You have no way of knowing what was going through her head. You have no way of knowing everything that was going through her son’s head when he did the heinous thing that put him on Cupid’s hitlist, and maybe he doesn’t, either. You have no way of knowing for thoroughly certain if a person is truly empty and worthless of life, so you don’t get to decide something that ABSOLUTE for someone else. 

Max is uncharacteristically heated to the point of losing self-control now that she’s finally talking about this. You’d almost think this was personal for her, like she spent a year truly believing that she witnessed a murder that never happened. It’s like the collective human race had a hard time believing that a girl with no history of mental illness would suddenly hallucinate what really happened the night her boyfriend died--- like everybody agreed that she knew she was lying in court and just trying to frame an abuse victim for murder, or something. You might even speculate that she had to listen to thousands of people saying that Tyler Romero deserved to die that night on the basis of; well, he was kind of an asshole. 

           “ --------I don’t--                      I don’t think either of you are evil.                          But I think you’re both PATHETIC. ” 

         “ Elementary school evil. That's you. You’re not an antihero. You’re not a revolutionary. You’re just a dick. You’re a little kid who can’t think critically enough to empathize with people. You’re the big fat bully on the playground who scares people into acting the way you think they should act, and when they don’t, you throw a tantrum. You didn’t CLEAN Chicago. You STAINED IT. You KILLED people because you didn’t trust them to fix their own fucking marriages. You ruined chances for old friends to come back and heal together because you don’t have the basic virtues of patience and mercy to give people another chance past your--- fucking!!--- arbitrary strike system.

         “ Don’t you DARE think I like you better than Him just because I understand more about you. I don’t TRUST YOU just because you’re predictable enough to talk to sometimes. You’re both threats.  You’re both fuck-ups. And you’re just as arrogant as Him. With Him it’s personal. With Him, it’s more stressful--- I don’t know exactly what’s going through His head and it’s--- there’s that Lovecraftian fear-of-the-unknown thing going on. With you, being able to sympathize, it’s... it’s just SAD. And I’m--- I’m worried. I’m worried about BOTH of you. But I’m not... IMPRESSED by either of you. I don’t respect either of you.

           “ You don’t provide any solution, Gabriel. You don’t ‘punish’ people. You kill them.   And that sounds a lot like a FUCKING COP-OUT to me. It sounds like a waste of all that bullshit Good Christian pizzazz. It sounds like you’re kind of a poser who only cares about saving the people who are easy to save, and any God worth worshiping would call you a douchebag, so your whole gimmick is kind of a JOKE.

           “ You want do something with all that strength of yours? Find The Creeper. Handcuff Him. Take Him to COURT. Get Him INCARCERATED. Get Him some therapy, give Him a place to talk about how His father wasn’t there for Him and He didn’t fit in with the kids at school. Find out why He does what He does and get Him some professional help. Give Him a chance to fix Himself. And if that doesn’t work, you do it again and again until He gets His shit together. Doesn’t matter what you think should happen to Him. You’re not entitled to decide who gets to live and who gets to die. You’re not a god. You’re not the entire human race. You’re not even holy, 𝑮𝒂𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒍. You’re just...

                                           “  a  boy.  ” 

[plathacademyhq-blog]

Have you seen TERENCE LICHT around campus? She/He/They're TWENTY-THREEyears old and the GARDENER on campus. I’ve heard that she/he/they started working here because HE DISCOVERED HIS FAMILY WAS PART OF AN EXTREMIST NEO-NAZI GROUP, when in reality it’s probably rumor. If you look at them closely they kinda resemble LUCAS TILL, but maybe my eyes are just playing tricks on me. (boo!)

Welcome to Plath Academy for Troubled Teens, Terence Licht! Lucas Till is now taken. You have twenty-four hours to send your account in!

[sinkingseo-blog]

7. Veronica & Gabe

meme drabbles - accepting !! //  “stop looking at me like that, it’s your fault anyway.”

How did you get here? Grimy, concrete jungle that smells a lot like your home. But the smoke is thicker and the sky is darker. The skyscrapers are like d a r k tentacles reaching from the body of a forlorn beast. No color. Silent. Like an Italian noir film. This is not the New York that you called home.

Gabriel D’ Angelo. Tsk tsk. Gabriel D’Angelo of all people, here in the tattered vignette of her dreams. They are both decked in the ominous monochrome of her subconscious, walking around the darker, grimier New York of her sleep. She leads the way. The time of day is indecipherable, as if the whole world was trapped in eternal nighttime. Maybe it is around midnight or before dawn? It’s hard to tell. She leads him to a familiar skyscraper, the neon signage signaling her connection to this hard, unforgiving monster of a building. Broken elevator, the sign reads. They climb up the stairs. Funny, she has never recalled the stairs going in spirals. Why does it feel as if they are falling down instead of climbing up?

 They have been quiet until now. “I take that you’ve done this before?” She addresses him, slight apprehension in her tone. “Ah only about 40 or so times.” He shrugs, a shadow of a smirk grazing his lips. He swings a heavy piece of metal in one hand, the dark finish glints against the white fluorescent bulb of the stairwell.

The last step leads to a sliding door. The sliding door leads to a wide room. In the wide room stands a man. She enters first. She knows this room well. But in the murky plain of her subconscious, it is both strange and familiar to her.  The man is looking at New York through his glass-paneled wall, back facing them. Gabriel wastes no time, utters no words. He takes his bow and with the seasoned hand of a master archer, aims it at the wall. The glass breaks into a million pieces. A warning shot. The man steps back in shock, looks towards them. An arrow finds it way to his side. They come forward. The man writhes in pain, clutches the side of his desk as he collapses to the floor. Why isn’t there any blood on the floor? 

“Still breathing,” Cupid whispers to her. She knows what this means. she’s to deliver the coup de grâce. Although at this moment, more vengeful than merciful. He hands her the gun. She does not flinch. Does not falter. Arms straight, she fires the shot towards the man’s temple, in that space between his eyes, just above the bridge of his nose. Now, the blood flows–rich and red, a contrast in that dark monochrome world. She stares, terrified of what she did. Guilt is a void that is rapidly consuming what’s left of her heart. She looks at him, devastated. Gabriel offers no comfort and merely shrugs, “Stop looking at me like that, it’s your fault anyway.” He was right. Her father’s blood is on her hands.

In the final moment of desperation, she aims the gun at her accomplice–unflinching. She wakes up to the sound of her phone alarm. 

Veronica has learned to handle Gabriel D’Angelo in the sphere outside her nightmares. In real life, she sometimes forgets that he is a serial killer. Aside from the shady emo kid front, he seems to be slowly developing into what might be deemed, a normal teenager. Although, the fear will always be there. No matter how much she quips about him killing her father, the fear still remains. She happened to sit next to him in one of her classes the morning after she was plagued by that vivid nightmare. “I dreamed we killed my dad, by the way. Then I aimed the gun at you. It was terrible,” she mentioned to him in passing, as if she was only commenting about the state of the weather. He seemed shocked, slightly intrigued. “Don’t be so shocked. It’s your fault I get these horrible nightmares anyway. Fucking psycho,” She joked. Was it really a joke?

[ariadelorenzo-blog]

Do you ship Aria and Gabe?

        @reversecxpid oh boi is this gonna get wordy …

THE SHORT ANSWER : yes, i do.

THE LONG ANSWER : aria & gabe have a long and tragic past. they’ve known each other since infancy ; their families have been friends for as long as the mafia has existed and prospered in italy. though bernard de lorenzo had not yet inherited the family, even as far back as the 1890s were his predecessors associating and doing business with the d’angelos.

aria’s distant relative, giuseppe “ the clutch hand “ luciano ( who was the first official boss of the family, dating back to the 1890s ), took such a liking to the d’angelos that he had a protective order placed on their backs. the two families’ relationship carried on well into the early 1930s, when aria’s great-great-grandfather, lucky luciano, inherited the borgata from his father.

igea luciano’s parents, charles jr. and elisabet, did not have any sons ; this created a serious problem for the family, as charles jr. was becoming too old and sick to head them. igea, a newlywed at age twenty-one, suggested to her father that her husband - bernard de lorenzo, the son of another wealthy mob boss - could take his place.

nineteen years after bernard was sworn in as don of the luciano borgata, he made a deal with gabriel d’angelo’s father - igea was carrying a girl, and gabe’s mother a boy. they were to be married once they reached the age of eighteen, in order to bring the families together and repair what had once been a blossoming partnership between the de lorenzos and d’angelos.

this, of course, never happened, although aria and gabe were engaged for a short while.

now that they’re together again at plath, anything could happen - but they both know they’ve changed, for better and worse. aria is still in love with gabe, and wants nothing more than to be able to express that ; she wishes they never left her parents’ vacation home in palermo, and that they could stay there forever. but time passes, and what was once a promising courtship can disappear in the blink of an eye.

i’d say that yes, i do ship aria & gabe - their history is complicated, however, and there’s no getting around that. aria does love him with all of her heart and would possibly be open to rekindling their affection, but she wants him to be able to move on if that’s what’s best for them both.

[dacrebutlerarchive-blog]

@reversecxpid replied to your post: [[MOR] @reversecxpid replied to your post: ...

I’m gonna tell the admins first

the admins think you’re a weenie

[lydiaasher-blog]

📱

[unsent text] i’m really scared to leave my room[unsent text] do you think antonio hates me?[unsent text] do you hate the fact that i don’t want to have sex yet?[unsent text] what was your family like?[unsent text] sometimes i think you’d be better off without me

[sent text] milkshakes and homework @ my dorm after class??

@reversecxpid

Send 📱 for five texts my muse didn’t send yours, and one that they did

[rcmingtons]

👂

“He’s kinda .. weird, don’t you think?” 

Daniela and Gabriel had decided to go into some random house party, but it was obvious he didn’t want to be there. Especially to the girl that was sitting next to her, apparently. Dressed in a black tee and dark jeans, Gabriel had his back to the corner. He looked like he was minding his business, but she knew that his eyes were darting around the room, staying alert, while she leaned against the bannister with a solo cup in her hand. He wasn’t far, but she wasn’t sure if he was in earshot. She decided to tease the female. Leaning with her arm on the banister, she almost hovered over her except she only topped at a good 5′1″ standing tall. 

“Kinda weird. When you get raped tonight for flirting with too many guys and drinking too many roofie-spiked beers, you better hope he’s around. Because right as you’re screaming – begging to just die from how disgusting you realize you are judging people. You will think of him. And you will remember me. I’ll be sitting on some rooftop with him while he keeps me safe, and you lose your sanity wondering when the night will be where all this becomes a reality.” 

[deacvrmela-blog]

ok but like  fluorescent adolescent is carmela and i haven’t even heard it until now sue me?? 10/10 lis your tags are genius how even

[goldcypress]

@reversecxpid P E R F E C T 

tho we call this “norie starts her slow but steady unsuccessful mission to turn cypress bronte straight” @shegotbored

[maikwons]

( AU THINGY WITH MAI AND GABE PLS )

au drabbles. | accepting ! | @reversecxpid

      46. imaginary friend AU

      “ hey. hey. heeeey. COME ON, how long do you plan on ignoring me for ?? “

      “ gabriel, are you paying attention ? “ the teacher’s sharp voice cut right in the middle of the story that she was reading aloud, but he barely even looks at her, and instead, is looking outside the window at the clear blue sky. 

   he gives a small hum of approval, but doesn’t look at the blonde, as she taps her foot impatiently on the tiled floor of the english classroom. “ oh really? then what were we just discussing, mr. d’angelo? “

     “ ooooooooh. someone’s in TROUBLE!! “ a high pitched voice speaks out, and a sigh escapes gabriel’s lips. “ i was paying attention, so it’s okay. ” mai is sitting on the tiled floor, leaning against one of the legs of the desk, her eyes fixated on the blue sky as well. “ they’re talking about how ahab is an antichrist figure in moby dick. if you want--- ”

         “ ---- an example as to how he is the antichrist figure, just take a look at the UPSIDE DOWN communion he has with the rest of the crew members. ” their voices seem to sync, as gabriel spits out the lines that mai offers him ; but only his is heard. as per usual. mai looks up to him, her dark eyes sparkling with happiness. he can’t ignore her NOW, she had just helped him. 

     but he doesn’t even spare her a glance, his eyes still on the sky.

     “ very good, gabriel. please try and open your book next time, so at least it looks like you’re paying attention, ” the teacher says with an exaggerated sigh, before starting to read from her text once more. “ now, can somebody in the class offer me an example of expatiation? “

      “ the FUCK do you want? “

       mai’s sitting on his bed, her hands placed lightly on the comforter, and her mouth drops open in surprise at the hostility and apprehension in before her brows furrow, and she stands up, her classic yellow cardigan flowing behind her. her brows furrow and she can feel blood flow through her veins. or something akin to that. 

       “ is that anyway to speak to a friend?? “ mai argues.

       “ YOU’RE NOT MY FRIEND. “ gabriel’s eyes are blazing and she’ll swear that she’s NEVER seen him so angry ( save for the creeper ). he’s whipped around from the desk that he has and towards her.“ you’re fake. imaginary. ”

         “ j-just c-cause i’m not exactly physical doesn’t MEAN i’m not your friend, ” she takes a step back, and there’s a gasp that comes out of her lips that almost sounds like a sob. her eyes stung with tears and her hands trembled. 

        “ no. i’m not FRIENDS with dead girls. ”

         mai blinks. once, twice, and her features contort. “ i-i’m not dead. i can’t be, ” she says, a lowly whisper, “ i’ve always been your friend, ever since i arrived at plath, gabe please. y-you... you’re one of my best friends. i would remember dying. ”

         “ apparently you don’t, ” gabriel hisses, as he slams his hand down on the desk. “ i’m not friends with girls who fucking slit their own wrists to bleed to death in the bathtub. so feel free to get the hell out of my SIGHT. ”

      he turns around, back to the homework that’s on his desk, waiting for something to come out of the girl’s mouth. some kind of protest. but there’s nothing. he taps his PENCIL on the white desk, waiting. waiting. waiting for her to say something. 

     another moment passes. the silence is deafening. he can’t stand it. he can’t take it. so he turns AROUND. 

     she’s not there when he looks back. not now. 

      ( not ever. )

[maxbronte]

@sidwurm @saintjimmys @reversecxpid

showing hype + support for this scary trashsquad by giving y’all access to the pinterest inspo/graphic resource board i made back when i was more confident in my ability to play two characters and sage and nina and i discussed making our problematic murderous white boy squad to be terrible influences on sid

i’m probably never gonna pick up robin because i keep worrying that he’s too similar to existing characters so i’m SO HAPPY TO SEE THE UNHOLY TRINITY LIVE ON WITH GABE

FUCK SHIT UP Y’ALL I’M SO FUCKING EXCITED