#because a family of rats had been living in the skull

[i-like-eyes]

Trying to figure out how they'd work as puppets

More in depth analysis below the break

For those that don't know, typically the three most common variants of foam puppet are know as rod hand, live hand, and walk around. Examples would be Elmo, Cookie Monster, and Big Bird respectively. Rod hands are smaller in size and held up by, well, rods. Live hands have the puppeteer (or two!) insert their hand in a sleeve connected to the puppet for more interaction. Walk around puppets are full costumes the puppeteer wears, but what makes them puppets and not like, fursuits, is that there is still puppet mechanisms like moving the mouth or blinking.

Here is what comes from the website/Clown's tumblr:

Julie is a rod hand

Eddie is a live hand

Poppy is a walk around

Barnaby has a walk around and live hand

Howdy has a walk around and live hand

Sally is a live hand but "required an additional hand to help move her head, as it was much larger than other puppets"

Frank is said to have a fixed expression but his head could spin, rather he was rod or live or magic third thing I cannot figure out

Wally doesn't have any details regarding his puppet anatomy because he is special like that

Of note:

Julie likely has smth holding up all that hair (please be a fucked up skull please be a fucked up skull)

Poppy is a pretty standard walk-around puppet (she's just Big Bird), but I'm having trouble understanding how a human could fit into Barnaby or Howdy. Then again, 2d artwork of puppets tend to take liberties for the sake of stylization. So if someone were to make them IRL they'd either look really different or utilize tech I don't think was available in the early 70's

Howdy's legs could work on Squidward Spongebob Musical logic. Arms I have no clue, as a live hand he could have multiple people filling up those arms, but as a walk around idk cheap spider costume logic were the lower arms are attached to the upper arms ala a string?

I do not know what to make of Sally needing extra help to hold up other than that's so specific it might become a plot point

Frank.

Okay Frank lacking details or having weird details that stand out is a running theme for him. He has no listed backstory whereas everyone else can say where there were from and who their family is. Every character's first name ends with a long "e" sound whereas Frank is. Frank. (His last name "Frankly" does cover that though). The fact that WHRP lacks any concrete detail on his creation is a story reason, what's the story no clue we are 5% in dudes

Regarding his puppet, he obviously had a fixed frown because puppet but also could spin his head. Now I have absolutely zero clue how you can have the head spin and also have room for the hand for the mouth, unless this is a rod puppet (Rizzo the Rat) where the mouth is moved by some other mechanism. All I can say is I'd suspect Frank to have a very stiff (read: not majority foam) head and body in order to hold up such a feature. If his head can detach, I can imagine a metal ring of sorts that his collar covers up

His arms are a different story. The website not clarifying how his arms work doesn't really mean there is anything particular about them, but I am going to over analyze is anyway dammit

Points for rod hand: arms/hands are slim, inspirations Bert and Mr.Robinson are rod hands, lack of other rod hands/variety reasons

Points for live hand: Sally also has slim hands but is live hand, not all live hands have thick arms (looks at how small Ernie's upper arms are compared to his fore arms), Beaker hasn't been listed as an exact inspiration for Frank but look at him, and most importantly is Poppy. Poppy is noteworthy for being the only walk around puppet without a live hand counter part. As a result of having wings for hands the puppeteer cannot realistically perform any of the baking tasks in her segment. As a result she gets help from Sally, Howdy, Eddie, and Frank. The former 3 are all live hands, and one can assume that because of this Frank could be a live hand as well

And finally I know he's said to not super expressive but my heart says that he would look great with the eyebrow mechanism Bert and other puppets have.

I should point out that puppets from the 90's (Dinosaurs and TMNT come to mind) used more robotics in order to achieve more expression with the characters, but I don't think that kind of tech was common place in the 70's and would apply here.

The big take away is that this post was made for practical reasons; I am just Quite Fond of researching this kind of thing. This will probably not get you any lore, but it could provide context for the characters. I personally suspect that Poppy not being able to fly or perform tasks she swore she could will play a big of her character. In general I think that what other puppets can and cannot accomplish will play into the theme of figuring out who you are. That's the real fun.

[k-marzolf]

The world was on fire//

You draw parallels between your military father, and Billy. You know he’s not a good man, but neither was your father. And you love them both.

//established relationship, canon typical violence, blood, kissing, fluff, dark themes, misogyny, sexism, fem!reader//

910 words.

x

You knew Billy wasn’t a good man. You knew that he made a living out of violence being a military contractor, and he enjoyed it to some degree, but there was something sweet in the way he was a dangerous panther to everyone, but tender with you. Always soft with you, you thought remembering the way he’d played with your hair last night, until you fell asleep. A whisper of a kiss across your forehead, before he left for work, his fingers ghosting over your cheek.

You sighed, eyes fluttering and fingers reaching out to touch his fingers, squeezing. You brought his fingers to your mouth kissing him, even after he’d confessed to killing a man that night.

Your own tenderness made him love you with a violence that startled him. All Billy had known was violence.

And you accepted that part of him; with you he didn’t have to hide who he was, he was completely free to be himself. Because a part of you loved that violence in him, we’re drawn to it as a girl who’d also only known violence.

A military father who protected his family in blood, and you saw him in Billy.

You played with the pocket knife he gave you, laying in your bed the next night, the scent of menthols lingering where he laid last night.

You buried your face in his pillow, aching.

x

Your father opened the closet softly, ushering you inside quietly, putting a finger to his lips, before shutting the door, cloaking you in darkness.

You heard footsteps on the hardwood floor, and you swallowed. Your mother was away, but you weren’t close to her like your father. Your father was everything to you.

“Where’s your girl, Martin?” A man taunted, sounding like a rat might if it could speak.

“None of your goddamn business. Get outta my house.” Your father growled, voice quiet and deadly. He was standing by the closet door, you could see his boots under the door.

“When I find her, I’m gonna have so much fun with her. Then, maybe I’ll gut her when I’m through, throw her body in the woods, let nature sort her out.” The other man said, chuckling.

And then you heard your father’s shout, followed by a struggle and a crash. Against his wishes, you peeked out into the hallway. He had the man on the ground who was trying to fight your father off, who was slamming his head into the ground repeatedly until blood splattered and the man went limp, his skull caving in. And even then it seemed like your father couldn’t stop, filled with rage.

When he did, he was breathing heavily, wiping the blood from his face with the back of his hand, checking to see if the man was really dead. Your father turned to see you looking out through the crack. You let out a squeak, shutting it.

He stood up, walking over. But you weren't afraid, your daddy had protected you.

He opened the door, “I gave you instructions.” He said, scolding you.

“Sorry, dad.” You mumbled, looking down.

But he could never stay mad at you for long.

Like Billy. They always said a girl will love a man like her father. And like your father, Billy had been a hard military man, both of them being in the Marines.

You watched from behind the couch, Billy speaking to a man. He had told you to hide, and to be quiet, and you obeyed, mostly. “C’mon, Russo. We can share her.” The bald man said, his voice pompous. “Don’t be greedy.”

Billy drummed his fingers on the countertop, bored. “Or I can cut your dick off. How’d ya like that, Morty?”

Morty sneered, “I’d like to see you try, Russo. Maybe I’ll come back later, partake of her when she’s alone, and lonely. Bet she’d like my company, huh, Lieutenant?”

There was a pause, and then Billy unsheathed his hidden blade, striking Morty’s eye faster than a snake strike, before retracting his blade from his eye. You were brought back to that winter when your father caved a man’s skull in. He’d been all rage, but Billy was controlled. His eyes were like pits, pitch black and angry.

Morty screamed, blood running down his face. “Now you match your master, Morty.” Billy said, cleaning the blade, casually.

You pressed your thighs together at his casual violence, at the way Billy was controlled in his fury, a professional. You shivered, imaging Billy teasing you with his blade, dragging it down your body. You wondered if there was something entirely wrong with you. “You son of a bitch, Russo.” Morty growled, holding his eye, and looking like he wanted to say more, “Keep your whore, she’s probably loose anyway,” he snapped.

“Careful, Morty. You still have another eye.” Billy warned, quietly, as Morty stumbled out of the penthouse, probably to regroup. Or get medical treatment.

“You can come out now, baby.” Billy said, soft now, tender.

“Is he gonna get you back for that?” You asked, crawling out from behind the couch, aching for him.

“Morty has the instincts of a rat, and the courage of a rabbit. I doubt it.” He said, pushing his now cleaned blade back in. He smiled as you leaned up on your tippy toes, and kissed him eagerly.

Billy didn’t know his parents well enough to say he loved after them, but god he loved you.

Tags; @idaofinfinity @e-dubbc11 @rosaleenablack @firexfate @aoi-targaryen

[itboyarchives]

I NEVER ASKED TO BE LIKE THIS.

His feet were dragging from one side of the living room to the other as he paced back and forth. Hands rubbing his face, as if to awaken from the momentary nightmare he was experiencing.

This time he really fucked up.

Everyone was aware of Devyn’s impulsivity. It was a trademark of sorts. His spontaneous personality was part of his charm. However, his actions never threaded the line of endangerment this way before. 

He couldn’t identify what was different this time around. What took place exactly? Why did he expose himself like that? 

Katya said she’d attempt to return by Saturday. After their brief encounter in Tyumen, they had plenty to discuss.

But on Sunday morning, back in Seoul, he was still alone, left with nothing but a handful of questions and no one to respond to them. 

Did she bail out? Was she frightened by him? Perhaps something happened to her. Her family did not seem wrapped too tight either. Or maybe she simply had enough of his bullshit.

He could still hear the gunshot ringing in his ears, as though it had just occurred. If he closed his eyes for longer than the time necessary to blink, he could see her holding the gun and shooting with no hesitation. He knew he’d survive it; that was never a concern. However, the swiftness to pull the trigger when instructed left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Even greater than the discomfort of that stupid bullet splattering the insides of his skull all over the walls of a random villa in Russia. 

He assumed she’d open up, for some reason. As if the realization nothing would happen to him would magically relinquish all of her fears and reservations. How naive of him. Delusional, even. 

He’d never been so irresponsible before. He couldn’t wrap his head around how he ended up disclosing so much so quickly. The two barely even met... What was he thinking? Something about Katya was different. Or so he kept telling himself in order to save the last ounce of sanity he still had left.

He collapsed on the couch. The morning rays of sun beaming through the tall glass windows were warming up his skin, offering a faint sense of comfort. Fingers were massaging his temples in circular motions, his head rested against the cushioned headboard of the sofa. 

Maybe he was just overthinking it, right? After all, it had only been a couple of days since Devyn had last heard from her. He pulled out his phone from the jeans pocket and unlocked the device. Thumb rushed to open their text conversation.

💬: If you wanna talk to me about anything, you’ll have to do it in person.

💬: Texts are a cop out.

Those were the last words on the screen. After that, radio silence.

Many times he typed a message, deleted it, wrote another, and discarded that one too. 

All he desired was to see her again, but the likelihood of that happening was getting slimmer and slimmer by the day.

They used to joke about him being like Rapunzel held hostage in a tower as he awaited her visit. The irony was he felt even more trapped now, in his own home, than he ever felt in that remote villa.

Life had a sick sense of humor sometimes.

A knot in his stomach was twisting his insides like a ribbon on a perfectly packaged Christmas present. What crimes had he committed in his past lives to suffer this way in his current existence? He never asked to be like that. He didn't want any of those powers. 

He couldn't help people because he'd expose himself to the very real possibility of being studied like a lab rat. And if he couldn't use his abilities to aid others, were they even any good?

All he ever received in life was isolation, loneliness, and artistic inspiration. Big wins... Devyn rolled his eyes. He was truly losing his mind waiting in that damn house. 

He grabbed a pillow, buried his face in it, and released a scream into the void. Well, into the feathers. 

That frustration would make for great lyrics one day. But right then and there, the only songs playing in his head were impatience and discouragement. Their out-of-tune chords were screeching nails on a blackboard, a rusty pipe organ whose wobbly notes resonated with melancholy in an empty church with no worshippers.

[renkenako]

✦ KENTO YAMAZAKI, CISMALE, HE/HIM ✦ REN KANEKO the TWENTY-SEVEN year old has been in willow’s edge for THEIR ENTIRE LIFE and was an EX-BOYFRIEND to JUNE, from the deceased family. whispers on the streets are that the MECHANIC AT ONE-STOP AUTO who lives in WILLOUGHBY COMPLEX are said to be CANDID and SELF-WILLED but i guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

tw: family issues, alcohol mention

full name: kenako ren

date of birth: january 30th

star sign: aquarius

place of birth: willow's edge south carolina

family: kaneko osamu (father), nakamura miu (mother)

sexual orientation: bisexual

religion: atheist

tattoos: dueling rabbits on either thigh, flames above his left ankle, broken glass around his left elbow, a very meta tattoo with question marks above his right elbow, skull / mechanic piece on his right calf, a fat bird above the crook of his left elbow, ladder above his right ankle, "whatever forever" on his left shin, a double-headed rat on his left bicep, and a broken bone on his left forearm.

style: linen button-ups, vans and converse, vintage beer t-shirts, light-washed dad jeans, carhartt jackets, miscellaneous trucker hats, short-sleeved button-ups or bowling shirts, grey jeans, white basic tees, well-worn nike sneakers, five inch inseam gym shorts, distressed jean jackets, a canvas messenger bag, headphones as a necklace, silver rings, dark brown cargo/utility pants, and doc martens.

[ aesthetics coming later because i am tired ]

ren grew up in winslow as an only child in an upper middle class family. his mother, miu, was a stay at home mom and an artist in her free time— though most of her paid work tended to be painting storefront windows in town. his father, osamu, now works as an office administrator but back in his heyday, he was the manager of willow suite's.

while both of ren's parents are more reserved, he broke tradition and even from a young age was the kid constantly being asked to change desks at school or earn a sideways glance. make no mistake, he's not the loudmouth demanding the spotlight but he's undoubtedly the loudest in the kenako bunch, standing out just enough to stress out his father.

his father expected ren to grow out of his tendencies and mature. but the more ren got told to quiet down or to grow up or 'stay in line', the less he wanted to. at a certain point, it wasn't so much his natural instinct but a choice made of spite.

maybe that was a factor in how things went with june. having grown up around the suites given his father's job, he'd gotten to know the willows well enough. it wasn't really until that one summer— ren was twenty and working at the hotel as a bellhop, having opted not to do the whole college thing (another decision made to spite the status quo). at some point, june and him had just gotten closer. it felt a bit forbidden. boss's daughter. father's boss's daughter. they hadn't taken it public when his father had found out in a moment of wrong place, wrong time. immediately, he didn't approve, calling it inappropriate. worrying about his job, how mr. willow would see him, what he'd think. june and ren hadn't lasted too much longer after that. even though ren refused to listen to his father's demands to end it, staying in a relationship where you're not feeling very welcomed... it made sense. ren never faulted her for that. — [ together for four months, mostly private but became more public knowledge after it ended ]

after not going to college, the initial plan (from dad) was for him to follow in osamu's footsteps and work at the suites, eventually making his way up the ladder. that dream never really took off and officially died after that summer with june. it was then that ren went to trade school to become a mechanic. he'd preferred the idea of a hands on type job and, to be honest, the grim of it seemed appealing. can't be all prim and proper with oil stains. it helped too that ren had always liked cars; hot wheels were his toy of choice as a kid. now he mostly collects speeding tickets.

owns a black 1967 chevy impala that he restored himself. it's his pride and joy.

moved into willoughby complex when he was twenty-two. he had a roommate for two years before moving into his own one bedroom.

loves a capri sun. he's a fan on most flavors but his favorite is obviously pacific cooler and he cannot and will not touch the grape. at a bar, he'll either grab a simple beer or a classic rum and coke.

loves music and doesn't go anywhere without at least some type of ear buds, though he prefers headphones. — [ greta van fleet, mother mother, the black keys, ren, rainbow kitten surprise, noah kahan, creedence clearwater revival, maneskin, k.flay, tamino, etc... ]

big fan of sitting anywhere but a chair: the hood of his car, the roof of willoughby, a tall stack of tires, counters, also the floor.

general connection ideas: best friends, friends, ex-friends, pseudo siblings, ex-roommate of two years, childhood/family friends, coworkers (now or once-upon-a-time), exes [ 1. non-serious childhood "girlfriend", 2. high school girlfriend, 3. june, 4. ex from early twenties, 5. recent ex. ], fwb, one night stand, dating app match, one-sided crush, old crush?, enemy, annoyance, drinking buddy, bad/good influence, extended fam… others that i cannot think of

[ PINTEREST ]

[astarionsbite]

Saw where @mmothmanners had done these templates for their lovely Ris'daer a while ago so I wanted to try it out with my girl Tavana ❤️

(a bit about her and spoilers for the game below)

Tavana is my girl that I've been playing with since early access and I'm so happy to have finally been able to finish up her story! I've added more to it than I thought I would really but here are some little tidbits of it:

As a child she lived on the boundaries of the forest with her family until her parents found better work in the city and moved them all into Baldur's Gate

She grew up in Baldur's Gate with a decent roof over her head helping her parents run their business, she missed the forest and the animals though

She would sneak out and befriend some of the local fauna...namely cats and rats and pigeons. One rat in particular named Wriggles accompanied her around town at times.

Her excursions at night did put her in the path of one of Cazador's spawn at some point but she avoided the encounter none the wiser to how close a call it had been

Her ranger's companion is a raven named Cantrip (her favored familiar is also a raven and Cantrip can call upon two more ravens for help.....so combat was just Tavana calling upon a group of ravens (which is apparently called an unkindness of ravens) to peck the eyes of her enemies <3)

Originally I had her just romancing Astarion but while playing my Durge I decided that she, Astarion, and Durge would be cute together and....oops i have an ot3 AU now...

I made her exactly as I had in early access but later added the piercings in the endgame as something between her and Karlach....bc Karlach has piercings pertaining to her rage type and they decided that Tavana summoning all those ravens was her version of a rage. It's also a remembrance thing for Tavana because in my original run with her Karlach died (and tbh I'm not sure I can change that I think that's Tavana's canon as much as it hurts me)

Tavana is very sun energy coded

Fun little thing that happened in game: when the spawn invaded camp in act 3 one of them bit Tavana so I had her chug the "A Mother's Loathing" potion and bite them back...so she's maybe a little feral at times

Definitely didn't kill the gur in the swamp and then use his crossbow for the entire rest of the game...nope...

She's a distant cousin of my first dnd OC (who became a literal goddess and is the deity of my current dnd OC cleric)

Tavana adopts so many animals and kids in game.....Scratch, Owlbear Cub, Arabella, and Yenna??? Adopted. She might have adopted Us eventually but she took one look at the whole talking, squirming brain in a skull situation and said: oh no, that has got to go.

Did not use the tadpoles at all, not even for persuasion....my durge on the other hand, has more tadpoles than brain at this point...

and there's a lot more but i think that's enough for this post

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Please pardon the interruption to your regularly scheduled updates, they are currently being transposed for the archives. Posts shall continue as they did before, but you may also find an additional record for them here.

Tomorrow, that is. It’s a process to read through the history.

For now though, you may have this excerpt. It’s always good to stay informed.

= = = = = = = = = =

THE 31ST DAY OF STOUTHEART MOON

UPDATES ON BEHALF OF THE ESTEEMED ROYAL FAMILY OF HYRULE:

Look. I don’t know which one of you fuckers snitched, and at this point I don’t care, but can we at least stop to consider that maybe, just maybe, this death was not really my fault?

I mean yeah, sure sure sure, I had the slip of the tongue (...slip of the ink? Slip of the magic quill?) about where the spare key to the Royal Chambers was in an update a while ago, BUT there is no way to correlate that with the latest queenly assassination. There are plenty of ways to get in to kill people without an open door! You can break a window! Start a fire under a floorboard! Crawl through some gutters to find and poison someone's dinner! You really can’t be limiting yourself. Personally I’ve broken into several people’s houses and not once did I need to use the door. 

Ergo, me no fault, me no murder dis time. Can’t spell “didn’t do it” without one of the vowels in my name. Can’t be showering when I got that inno-scent on me. 

OK, I can feel an intense glare bearing into my skull from over my shoulder, so I will take that as the cue to start with the actual formal announcement from the King Regent Rhoam Bosphoramus:

Queen Zelda Elane Hyrule is dead. The cuccos are to blame. There is to be a major BBQ sale in town square in memory of Her Majesty next week. Mark your calendars and expect lower fried cucco prices during this period of kingdom-wide grief. 

So yeah, BITCH. Betcha feeling reaaaal stupid now, fucking snitch blabbering to the knights about how Orator Asivus “may be involved in the tragedy” and how my “irresponsibility taints the image of Hylian society.” I’ve laid it out right there for ya. Rhoam and his long fancy royal investigation just declared that you should blame those feathery fucks, so kindly get off my ass. Better yet, just always assume there’s a bird behind anything you think I did wrong.

In other news, more birds! Or more accurately: bird. Singular. Or to be even more accurate: no bird. Like I said in an update before, those giant Divine Beasts Director Purah and the like are digging up unfortunately aren’t hot mechs or anything, just some fun lil animals—and the latest is a big old fake bird northwest the Tabantha Tundra. It’s green and weird, like vegetables, or teenagers. Don’t go asking me what species it is, my expertise is only in rats. I’m sure Larc could tell you, but he left the room immediately after I finished writing out the formal announcement. Probably to have plausible deniability in case I started not doing my job again—which is fair because I am gonna stop doing my job right about now.

Honestly, I know none of you guys are actually reading these things. I could count on one Bokoblin hand the amount of actual feedback these updates get. And really, more power to you! Reading sucks. Who has time to flip through their town billboard to find one torn up piece of magic parchment just to know what’s going down at Hyrule Castle? We all got lives. Better yet, we all got friends! Even better yet, we all probably have friends that get printed proclamations! 

By the time anyone remembers to tell me what to write with my primitive little quill, it’s already been better articulated and edited out on one of those fancy machine ink presses. And by that point it’s basically already wrapped and sent for the Rito flight to wherever and everywhere—at which point I am probably still in the lengthy process of getting sober enough to write legibly. So yeah. Who needs me, right? 

You know I do have to wonder how cuccos haven’t killed me yet…I can guarantee I’ve taken more saucy cucco skewers from the Royal kitchen than Ms. Elane. In fact, now that I think about it, I’m pretty sure she was going vegan this month…Ah well. Guess it’s another case of too little too late. A real shame, she was pretty nice for a royal, at least going off our one interaction. Long story short, it was cloak weather and she reached to hold my hand cause she thought I was someone else. I got 2k rupees in hush money and a slice of carrot cake. Not a bad transaction and beats getting executed—infinitely more delicious too. Her daughter threw a metal screw at my head though, so I guess the kindness doesn’t run in the family. 

OH! Elane was also involved in that new prophecy thing, right? Or I guess her daughter is now. Yeaaah, that part also sucks. Rhoam has been such a dick about the whole thing lately. I think the world is ending? Don’t know the details, I’m not that into politics. We’ll decide how much I should care about that when the consequences come closer into play.

Alright my wrist is tired so I’m heading out to drown at the tavern. If you never hear from me again, a miracle or a tragedy occurred. Hopefully both.

[skeleton-in-a-hoodie]

Been thinking about just what happened on top of the Wolf Hotel building in Ghost Splinter 2.

Under a readmore cause I know what I'm like

The fight itself is pretty much the same.

Before Splinter is impaled, the main difference was that he was trying to fight Shredder whilst also keeping himself in his original mutant form. In this au him not knowing Shredder was right behind him was due to a mix of relief, checking how April and Raph were, and trying to use what little remaining energy he had to avoid transforming.

There's a few seconds after Splinter is impaled where he manages to hold onto his living appearance. He knows that there's no way he can hide what he is from his children anymore, at least two of them have seen him sustain a life ending injury, but he still tries to hold himself together admist the agony. If they're going to find out this way, then he wants to at least look recognisable.

He doesn't want his kids to see the monster he's become.

But there's not enough energy left and at least two of his children are in danger.

Shredder has just enough time to monologue before ink begins drippping down his arm. When he tries to throw Splinter off the building, he can't - Splinter's dug his claws in and is refusing to let go.

Raph and April can see what's happening, but their brains can't make sense of it. They watch as Splinter goes from the Sensei they know and is distorted into something they don't recognise.

His obessession being kicked into overdrive also means he's not acting like himself. Ninjutsu is replaced by attacks they'd expect to see from a feral rat - there's no poise or elegance. It's not even fighting without thinking. The monster that they just saw Splinter turn into is clawing and biting and hisssing. It reminds them of when they returned to New York and found Splinter had lost his mind.

Shredder is landing hits, but it doesn't do him any good. He cuts one of Splinter's arms off, but two regrow in its place and swipe at him. He spears a leg to the floor - it seperates into peices and Splinter is free to persue him again.

At some point, Shredder tries to go for April and Raph, reasoning that they'll be easier targets.

That was a mistake.

By the time Splinter throws him off the hotel, Shredder is in significantly worse shape than in canon. Casey turning the trash compactor on also does its far share of damage.

Back on the roof, Splinter makes this horrible, ear-splitting roar. It sounds like the noise he made in Darkest Plight, after his eyes turned black. It's also the first thing Leo, Don and Mikey see when they reach the top of the building: this, this thing that can't be their father roaring.

Inky puddles and green blood are everywhere. Raph and April are as okay as they can be but Raph won't take his eyes off the creature and April is frozen in place. Mikey takes Raph from her shoulder, and Donnie joins Leo in standing between their family and whatever that is.

Splinter is nowhere to be seen.

Leo wants to ask where Splinter is. From the ground he'd seen Shredder attack, but Splinter isn't on the roof. And unless he got thrown off the building whilst Leo and his brothers climbed it, Leo has no idea where his father could be.

Splinter finishes roaring and turns to find all but two of his children are behind him already. He's exhausted, but glad to see them all okay. Raph is leaning on Mikey heavily and Splinter decides that just because they look alright doesn't mean he shouldn't check.

From Leo's perspective, a giant monster made of ink with a rat's skull for a head has just thrown Shredder off a building and is now advancing on them. Leo doesn't know how he's going to fight something that took Shredder down, but he knows he has to protect his family at all costs, so he runs foward and swings his sword at it.

Leo: Don't get any closer!

He cuts through one of Splinter's (many) hands and Splinter is too shocked to do anything other than flinch even as his hand repairs itself.

Splinter knew that he'd transformed, but he doesn't know what he was expecting his children to do. In the weeks since dying, whenever he thought about telling them he would think about how they'd react, largely to figure out the best way to tell them. Other times it was to torment himself with what could go wrong.

But he hadn't ever considered they'd find out this way. That the choice as to when they found out would be taken completely out of his hands and they'd find out in the worst way possible.

He hadn't predicted them not recognising him and attacking.

Behind them Donnie turns to ask where Splinter is. He doesn't know if his father could fight whatever this is, but Splinter's chances are better than theirs. Did he get knocked off the building? Is Sensei okay? Oh god please tell him Splinter isn't dead, he can't be -

Raph just keeps staring at the monster. Slowly, ever so slowly, April points at it.

April: That's Splinter.

Donnie: No, that's not- that can't- April-

And the monster says: Leonardo, please, it is alright

It's... it sounds like Splinter. Distorted by thick ink, yes, but still Splinter. And the way he's standing isn't threatening. He's backed up as much as he can to give Leo more room, which isn't a lot considering his size, but an attempt was made.

Leo: No, you're not. You're not him! Where's Splinter? Where's my father?

Splinter: I am right here, my son

[gamerkats]

"Do you think this easy!?" Mr. Darcy sounded cold as the grave before him. Were it not for the rudeness of the rain, one might mistake emotion leaking down his haughty cheeks. "Even now you laugh at my misfortune of your fortune, father. It is written plainly upon your ever present smirk of pearl!"

Had anyone else been near, he might have appeared quite mad. The only reason for such venture into the family gravesite, was to survey the damage reportedly done by miscreants or robbers. Certainly, a few broken headstones, and toppled reverent statues, were not pocket damaging enough to fire a man of such caliber.

However, the dead were not all that had been buried; blanketed under grasses, tucked in by lament. Long had Mr. Darcy left his past to rot amid the ruin of his childhood. The boy had been laid to rest along side his father; butchered by the soon man of the house, raised by duty and status. Two skulls lay laughing before him, though only one could be seen. And he hated both.

"Is this Hell? Hmm?" A flippant wave through the rain around him as he turned in a circle. "Am I damned to meet everyone's expectations, yet not my own?! Even yours? Ever yours?! You, who has chosen to rest in quiet, but could not be louder that I protect name and lineage. Everything that has befallen my shoulders is because of you! You ruined me!" In a fit and fury, his hands ripped the restful from the wet carved stone of their morbid bed.

He was eye to eye socket now, with the man who made him. His creator in breath and life. Molding his every move from beyond in each tutor and every acquaintance. All successes attributed to being so much like his father, while all failures he wore alone. Your father would want this, your father would not be proud of that.

My father, is dead!

Had that not been true, how different his life would have been; he beat the fantasy into the side of the uplifted, stone grave. How strange, how innocent. How perfect he could have seemed to her, without need of change or polish. Strike after strike, the bony pick axe chipped regret and remorse from his healing soul. To others, this would be insanity; wielding about the remains of his father like a madman. But to him, a dark cathartic series of blows from a legacy upon their heritage.

When it was over, it was truly over. Both within and without. Chest heaving. Body soaked in cool rain and heated sweat. Tears were not a question now, but a declaration of truce. Peace raced over Mr. Darcy, as if a swift clarity crept its wary fox nose between once barking dogs. He was holding a pile of bones; nothing less, sanity more. The skull had long rolled into a set of grasses, as if to watch his blood revenge his body.

Although his heart now felt light, his arms were heavy and released the remains to ground once more. Plopping in an unrecognizable heap of past and present. Only the rain seemed to move, as everything else fell into a mourning hush. Yes, his life would have been different had his father lived, and he allowed to be a boy. But regret was a fit in the rain, desecrating a memory that could not defend itself. And being the ever busy man he was, Mr. Darcy had not the time for it. Not any more.

"S-sir," the meek tones of his grounds keeper bit his ear, "are... are you..."

"I loath rats," was all Mr. Darcy used as explanation for his frightful actions. And despite being as farfetched as his belief he might feel anything beyond contempt for Elizabeth, it was accepted by his man without investigation.

A simple, narrow eyed glance to a still laughing skull on a bladed jade throne, was all he spared of the ungentlemanly event, before he returned to the fires and brimstone of society.

And Now the Screaming Starts! (1973) dir. Roy Ward Baker

[dreamdiariesfromtonight]

Racking my brain to record this strange dream

In a dream, I woke up in the middle of the street after realising I was out of my lease and would need to find a new place. As I walked down the street I only saw 2 houses and both had a rat+mice infestation. (I hate rat+mice+all pests) The old women who were the landlords were aware and smirked at me while taking two of my friends+this guy I have a crush on, up the elevator. They were looking for a home too.

I was so disappointed in them, that I left to go for a picnic with my friend and we were talking about camping. The picnic was in the rural suburbs with thick tree canopy. There I saw this man who seemed angry with his friend giving him a spring and asking him to put the keys on it. But, it was so bouncy that the spring in a Diet Coke bottle (??) just swooshed and rolled along the road. The man got more angry that his pal was being clumsy but since no cars went over it, it was all right.

I decided to leave because it was my friends anniversary and wanted her to spend time with her husband. I eventually reached back to the city and see that the boys were still looking for a place to lease and approached what looked like a family home. It was available for lease. I followed them in the hopes that if they didn't get the home, I would.

The lady in the home had a son who was living in a different place and her husband was missing (??). The first and only question she asked me was, "What makes a person stupid?". I stumbled and said some crap inherently but eventually replied, "Not listening. Because if you don't listen then you don't learn. If you don't learn you are stupid." She just began asking my friends, but I left the place because I was sure she wouldn't give me the house.

I found a place to lease in the house right beside. The boys got the place with the lady. We were all going to school/college(??) and on the way there was a red shop. All the shops were different colours.

My friends and my crush were right behind me and they were talking about a super rare watch. I had 15 minutes to get to class right beside the shop, so I decided to let my curiosity get the best of me and open the door to the shop with a chime. I tried to enter the shop but the stoop of the door was crowded by cans nearly stacked over each other in multiple rows beside each other. I made it inside but the shop was overwhelmingly small anyways.

A man with neatly combed hair with one strand of his hair going haywire greeted me. He asked me what I wanted. Because everything looked so old, I asked him what it was. It was so old, my brain couldn't identify what it was because I was so overwhelmed with curiosity. He said they were all foods and still edible. After I said, "they look so old". He laughed politely.

I asked him about the things other than the food that he had. He told me he had nail paint, that was "829 bucks" and that it really stayed on. Jokingly, he said see and showed off his trimmed, clean nails. I replied, "Oh, I see you've got a manicure!" Then he talked about some liquid? that dissolved skin. To get rid of worms that may grow in muscle if a wound was left open.

We were rudely interrupted by a friend of my friends who put a note on the shop glass, covering the shopkeepers face. But from a different angle he looked devastated. I took that as a queue to take a leave toward my class.

As I walked up to my class, I saw my professor and we started talking about the coursework walking in. The guy I have a crush on sat beside me and there was another girl beside me on the other side. Another one one his side, giggling like there was no tomorrow. The professor started giving out envelopes and my crush, got two envelopes. One for him and one for the girl beside me..... Saying, "You had your move, now I showed you mine." *skull emoji*

Overall, I had one feeling I have been struggling to achieve throughout the dream. Being free and expressing myself without caging my thoughts or expressions. No one in my dream perceived me wrongly.

[bitterarcs]

The Turks are your family now. Your loyalty is to them and to ShinRa, but remember — the mission comes first. Reno had only heard it once, yet Verdot’s words were a clear thing inside his psyche. The leader of the Turks set their moral guide upon taking the elite role. Life and loyalty were signed in blood. He always figured he would die young, so why not die with gil in his pocket, stories filling mind, and going out in a spectacle of explosions and bravery. Regardless, it was a strange bargain . . to live beside a stranger and gradually come to know them better than a lover or a brother.

Being in bed with the Turks involved a trust unlike any other. The only person Reno had ever trusted in his life was Reno, and while he did not doubt his own ability to protect his companions, there was doubt they would actually protect him with their lives. Who was selfless enough to sacrifice themself for another person especially when the mission was to be their first priority?  The mission reached great rates of success because in the first eight months of being on the job it had been ShinRa or the lowlife scum and gun runners.

Ten times out of ten, ruthlessness dominated — torturing and killing for the sake of ShinRa’s secrets was a no brainer. However when loyalties came under the line of fire, Reno suddenly found his moral arrow without a clear target. He knew not where the pain emanated from and where it ended; he felt a coiled bundle of nerves being burned and ripped apart. Heels of boots scraped against the filthy, glass and rat shit littered ground. A sadist taking pleasure in destroying another sadist. The blood drummed inside his ears, yet he still heard the goon’s stalking movements . . the heavy breath of Rude from ten metres away.

Blood accumulated between his bottom teeth and lip, and a single heavy drop hung from outside his lip. The man behind him fell silent, but the Turk did not have the reflexes nor the strength to tense for the incoming abuse. A strike with handle of a hunting knife against the back of his skull released the blood from within his mouth, and he never before saw stars as clearly in Midgar as those shinning in his head. Rattled with pain, he perceived not the approach of the enemy’s face, yet words managed to drill through his mind. Why did you come back?

Precious ShinRa weaponry had been in hand. The mission accomplished. All Reno had to do was return to HQ and all would be perfect. Perfect except Rude had been captured by the arms dealers. The mission comes first. Verdot’s words echoed like the lessons of ghost. The mission. The mission. Who was Rude beside his work companion? Rude was nothing compared to doing right by the President and by Verdot’s lessons. Rude was . . more than the mission suddenly, and the redhead returned reckless and hellbent. Why did you come back? Now ShinRa will have two less dogs.

Reno, with the last fibre of his energy, craned his head in order to look at the face of their enemy. Vision was obscured by blood and injury, but he imagined the opposing man to be something vile and monstrous. An attempt at a snarky grin was attempted, and whether the action was accomplished or not would remain a mystery to him.

                                  (  ❛  Keep the weapons and kill me. Let my partner go. Kill me instead.  ❜  )

Loyalty and love were odd concepts to him . . a man who had never loved nor trusted anyone in his life. It suddenly had not been about dying heroically ( if such a concept were possible for employees of ShinRa ), it was about loving someone enough to die for them. No better time to reach a point of enlightenment then on the doorstep of death. The smooth side of the knife teasingly pressed against Reno’s neck, and lids shut over eyes, presumably for the last time.

                          040. — confession in a desperate situation   @soreticent​                                                              (   is this a love confession, rude ??  )  

[thesoftestcloud]

today i was watching time team and they dug up a broze age kist burial and the bones were a jumbled mess because Rats Had Been Living In The Skull and i thought that was neat. can’t wait to be a skeleton so i can have rats living in my skull

[rewirenova]

Warrior Cats design headcannons 2: The Empire Strikes Back

My last design headcannons post got super popular, so to thank you guys here's another round of headcannons

Ravenpaw is a decendant of Ravenwing, who he was named after for looking so much like him.

Yellowfang almost always has at least a few stray sticks and leaves caught in her fur. Sagewhisker, Runningpaw/nose, Spottedleaf, and finally Cinderpaw/pelt would try to help her get them out, but to no avail.

Speaking of Yellowfang's fur, it's really big and fluffy which makes her look like an absolute unit. In reality though, she's 75% fur and is a twig underneath it all. (The same goes for her son Brokenstar)

It was somewhat of a conspiracy in Thunderclan for a while that Rosetail and Redtail were related in some way, due to how similar they look - not to mention their names.

Dovewing's eyes are are a blueish - turquoise color that look different depending on the angle. Her clanmates are always arguing about what color they really are because haha funny fandom memes.

Also, the three's eyes change when using their powers: Dovewing's turn gold, Lionblaze's turn red, and Jayfeather's turn a dark blueish - purple.

For some unknown reason, having one forepaw be a different color than the others (usually white) runs in Jake's family. Jake, Scourge, Sqirrelflight, and Alderheart all have a white forepaw, while Flamepaw has a dark red one.

Medicine cats always have leaves, feathers, flowers, etc as accessories (usually kept tucked behind an ear) to symbolize their deeper connection to nature. For example: Ravenwing, Goosefeather, Hawkheart, Kestrelflight, and Jayfeather all wear feathers of the birds they were named after.

Though she had long stopped training to become a med cat, Hollyleaf still wears the holly leaves Leafpool had given her as a memento. Even when she found out the truth of her parentage, she could never bring herself to part ways with her mother and mentor's gift.

Cloudtail inherited some of his mom's and grandma's brown and his grandpa's orange, which are on the tips of his ears and tail. Basically, he looks like a toasted marshmallow :)

Blackstar has vitiligo and was born completely black, hence the prefix. When he became leader, the black started to spread out on his body more.

In a similar vein, Yellowfang was born with a (fictional) rare condition where her fur started as light yellow, but later became dark gray.

Every (official) clan leader has a star marking somewhere on their body. Bluestar, Blackstar, Pinestar, and Rowanstar all had their mark slowly fade away as they lost faith in Starclan or stepped down as leader, respectively. Blackstar and Bluestar both got theirs back when their faith was restored.

Instead of a star marking, Bloodclan leaders have the skull of a small animal attached to the front of their collar; Scourge's was a bird skull, while Claw and Fury had a rat skull.

Warriorclan's leader Monkeystar just wears a star shaped leaf on her forehead.

Dark Forest spirits become more decayed and monterous the longer they are trapped. Antpelt had only been there a few weeks at the most, so he looks the same save for the black sclera and bleeding death wounds. Maggottail, however, is one of the oldest DF cats, and as a result looks like a demonic zombie.

Starclan cats look like mystical beings when appearing to the living, with star - shaped pupils, constellations along their body, and wisp like fur. Only other spirits can perceive Starclan cats in their normal forms.

[slasherbastard]

Could you please place my order but if it is too complicated you can disregard it.

Imagine that the Slachers (Michael, Jason, Brahms, Vincent and Bo) come home or something and see their beloved's best friend declaring that he misses her and that he loves her, then that friend gives him a kiss on the mouth {for demonstrate your love}.

What would be the boys' reaction to seeing this scene? And what will happen next?

thank you for the request! i’ve been wanting to write this request out ever since i got it, also a quick warning for non-consensual kissing 

(gif credit: thepumpkin-queenn)

Michael Myers

Yet another quiet night spent waiting for Michael to return from his 'night job' and you were spending this lonely night watching horror movies like you usually did. The character wandered around in the dark helplessly trying to distance herself from the killer and just as the killer jumped out, there a knock on the front door. You jumped up and turned to the door and checked the time, Michael wasn't meant to be home for a few more hours. Suspicious, you grabbed the knife sitting on the coffee table - Michael taught you how to defend yourself although he still worries you'll end up stabbing yourself instead of any intruders - and creeped up to the door, you knew Michael wasn't one for knocking and usually just barged in since you always left the door unlocked for him.

As you got closer you could hear talking. "- Shit what if I got the wrong address? Y/N? Hello? It's me, Y/F/N!" You froze and dropped the knife, you haven't heard from this guy in years, how did he find you? You quickly picked the knife back up and slid it into the waistband of your jeans just in case and opened the door, and yeah it was him alright. "Y/N? It's really you?" Without warning he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in for a hug which you returned, the two of you broke apart and your friend let himself past you into the house, you weren't planning on doing anything because you knew Michael wouldn't forgive you but you were still worried about what would happen if he came home to find this complete stranger in his house.

"Y/F/N, I hope I don't sound mean but what are you doing here?" "I wanted to do this" He pulled you in and kissed you, smiling as he pulled away but that smile faded as he realised you weren't even looking at him. "What is it, Y/N?" He said amusingly as he followed your eyes and turned around to see what you were looking at, only to be stabbed in the chest by the infamous Shape, Michael Myers. Michael removed the knife and watched Y/F/N fall to the ground, calling for your help before passing out. Michael slammed the door and stared back at you waiting for an explanation to what he just witnessed.

"I swear I didn't kiss him back. He just found out where I was living, came in and kissed me." The words felt like a lie as they passed your lips but you weren't lying. You were scared Michael was going to kill you as well but instead he just stood there and continued to stare. "I don't have feelings for him, he was just an old friend from school." You heard a grunt coming from behind the mask as he approached the body and picked it up before disappearing outside with it. You yourself decided to disappear upstairs and go to bed.

You waited and waited for Michael to join you but he never did. At one point you got tired of waiting and got tired in general and decided to just call it a night and fall asleep and if you got stabbed mid-dream then at least it would most likely hurt less. At one point you woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of someone shuffling into the room and the creaking of the floor. You lazily turned to just see Michael in your view and yawned as you sat up and switched on the lamp beside you, he was taking off his coveralls which looked a little more bloodier than usual which did raise a few questions that you were too tired and too concerned to ask, but there was one question you felt like you had to ask.

"Do you hate me?" Michael looked over at you and tilted his head in confusion as his bloody clothes fell to the floor and he slid on a different t-shirt. "I swear he just kissed me but I didn't kiss back. Do you hate me?" Michael didn't move for a few moments but eventually he removed his mask and shook his head, then he got into bed and pulled you into his body. You turned off the lamp as he lazily played with your hair. You felt like he was still mad at you to some extent, but knowing that he decided to let you live another day was a relief.

(gif credit: vhs-ninja)

Jason Voorhees

Sometimes it got very lonely at Camp Crystal Lake, as much as you loved Jason you also missed a lot of your friends and family who you never got to see since Jason hated being away from you and he also hated letting people leave the campsite alive. Sometimes you'd bring up letting a friend visit for just the day but Jason would always either shake his head or sign "No." at you. Jason felt a bit guilty for saying no but he was afraid of losing you and just knowing that there were people out there who were 1000% better than he was made him want to shrivel up at the bottom of the lake.

As worried as he is, he trusts you a lot so he waited until you were ready to ask the question and signed "Yes." before you could even say it. Your smile warmed his heart and he knew that you had no ill intentions with this friend of yours, the only thing that saddened Jason was that he couldn't meet this friend of yours and would have to hide - or in this case, lurk in the background just in case.

Jason couldn't help but feel a bad vibe from that friend of yours but he didn't want to ruin the moment so he just watched from behind a few trees. Everything was fine, you and your friend were sitting on the pier with your feet dangling over the lake, just talking about drama you missed in your hometown. "So, what's with you living on this campsite?" "Oh I don't live here. My house is through that forest-y area over there, I just like coming here to clear my mind."

"Can we go back to your place?" "Oh, I didn't finish cleaning. Lets just stay here for a while" you lied but your friend was already getting up and walking around so you followed him, hopping as you tried to keep up with him as you slipped your shoes back on. You were hesitant but guided him to the old cabin you and Jason were still revamping in the middle of the woods. You looked up and noticed Jason peaking out from behind a bush and subtly nodded at him as reassurance at everything was okay.

You were making lunch for the two of you when you noticed your friend sneaking looks at you through the reflection in the window in front of you but thought nothing of it. You looked past the reflection of your friend's face and out the window to see Jason was staring at you again, you smiled and signed "I am okay." at him, only seconds later your friend was behind you. He grabbed you and turned you around. "I've been wanting to do this for a long time." He paused before going in to kiss you softly.

Jason wasn't happy, watching the scene take place, he was at the cabin and before you knew it, Jason's machete's was lodged into your friend's skull and then he was dead. At that point you were worried that Jason had lost all trust in you and was probably going to kill you as he took a step closer to you and grabbed you but instead he pulled you in and enveloped your body into his and you began to cry and endlessly apologise.

A long night of cuddling and reassurance will fix it. Jason got rid of the body long ago and made you tea immediately after that. "I'm sorry." You signed at Jason. "For what? It was his fault and I know you'd never do that."  It was comforting to know that Jason didn't hate you or blame you for it. Sure you were sad that one of your close friends was dead but you were also relieved that Jason was there to help.

(gif credit: prurientpuddlejumper)

Brahms Heelshire

"No, No guests allowed! That's the rules!" Brahms angrily growled. "Oh please Brahms, I haven't seen him in forever, he's just a friend from my hometown. We're strictly friends." Brahms stubbornly shook his head and stomped off leaving you alone. You groaned in annoyance and continued working on cooking dinner. A friend from your old town was in the UK for some business and wanted to come visit for a few hours but Brahms was very serious about his rules and his feelings for you - especially the rules. You knew Brahms wasn't going to follow through and let this stranger into his home but at least you tried.

During dinner Brahms spoke up, "Fine. But only for an hour." You looked up at Brahms who was clearly avoiding your gaze. "Really?" He nodded and you smiled, thanking him and going back to eating "- If you give me two goodnight kisses every night this month." You laughed and agreed to it, too excited to see Y/F/N. You called him immediately after dinner while Brahms quietly listened to the conversation through the phone, still very jealous but also trying to test you to see if you really were loyal enough to not cheat on him.

The day Y/F/N was supposed to be visiting, Brahms stayed hidden in the walls and watched as you nervously paced around near the front door waiting for Y/F/N's car to pull up. When he showed up, Brahms watched as you both excitedly hugged and talked about how much you both missed each other, you looked so happy. Usually Brahms loved seeing you smile but mostly when he was the reason you were smiling, not whoever this 'Y/F/N' is. Brahms stomping around could be heard from outside the walls where you and your friend were talking who was obviously curious about it. "There's rats in the walls, I have to clean the traps out every morning."

The hour came to an end before the three of you knew it and you were getting ready to say bye to Y/F/N. "Y/N? Before I leave I wanted to ask you something." You nodded and he put down his bag. "We've been friends for like what, 3 years, has it been? I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me. I know I have a girlfriend already but things haven't been going well for us and-" Y/F/N's voice was drowned out by your thoughts, you knew Brahms was listening and you were very worried that he was going to get the wrong idea very quickly.

"Uh Y/F/N I-" He cut you off by kissing you. It all happened so quickly that you didn't have time to process it before you pushed him off you and backed away from him by a few steps. "Y/F/N, I- I can't. I have a boyfriend." he looked confused and ran a hand through his hair. "I think you should leave." You muttered just loud enough for him to hear but he didn't move. "Y/N I thought we had something. I saw the way you used to look at me and-" "Yes, USED to. Just leave." Y/F/N looked like he was about to say something but instead he grabbed his bag and pushed past you. You waited a few seconds before hearing a scream coming from the parlour and ran over to see Brahms choking Y/F/N out on the floor.

"My Y/N! They are Mine! Not yours!" You watched as Brahms choked out your friend and waited for him to see you standing there. Y/F/N fell to the floor and Brahms turned to you. "Promise me that you don't love him." Brahms began making his way towards you. "I don't love him. I love you, Brahms." You couldn't see Brahms' real expression through that porcelain mask of his. "I promise I love you, so much more than I could ever love him." Brahms craned his neck to the side and tilted his head so he was almost at your level, pressing those porcelain lips against yours, which you kissed back in an instant.

(gif credit: thatmyerschick21)

Bo Sinclair

Bo is very possessive of you and will not let anybody else touch you, not even his brothers of course. When you came in contact with an old friend they were desperate to reunite with you and begged to see you but Bo never lets you leave Ambrose. Hell, he won't even let you out of his sight most of the time, so you had two more choices - you could either reject the idea of seeing your friend, or you could bring them to Ambrose and just pray that Bo doesn't get too jealous. When you finally built up the courage to ask Bo if a friend could visit and hopefully leave the town alive he happily obliged which was a surprise but you decided not to question it too much.

While Y/F/N is around, Bo is way more touchy. Bo will grab your ass out of nowhere and stand a little too close to you, sometimes he'll even pull you away from a conversation just to kiss you before going back to doing whatever he was doing. You knew Bo was definitely jealous and as fun as it could be to mess with him it was also dangerous. After some persuading, you finally managed to get Bo to leave the two of you alone at the house - he needed to work on his truck anyways.

Bo wasn't happy with leaving you with this random guy but he trusted that you wouldn't pull anything. You and your friend spent the rest of the day just talking and catching up, you weren't sure what Bo was so worried about - you began sneaking quick glances at the window to make sure that he wasn't standing there watching the two of you. The day was coming to an end and plans changed when Y/F/N decided to leave only to realise that his car wasn't starting and Bo was nowhere to be seen.

Having no other choice, Y/F/N decided to stay the night. You set up his makeshift bed on the couch and decided to watch a movie since Bo wasn't back yet. At first you two were just sitting together but eventually you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder as you began to get more and more tired. "Hey, Y/N?" Y/F/N whispered, not sure if you were still awake or not. You looked up at him and before you could process anything his lips were on yours. You tried to pull away but he was starting to get more aggressive, tugging at your shirt in a lousy attempt to rip the fabric as you continued trying to push him off of you.

"Hey what the fuck is this?" Y/F/N jumped off the couch and Bo was standing there, he was so red you'd mistake him for the devil. It was quick but Bo managed to grab your friend and begin beating the crap out of him while you yelled and begged him to stop - which was useless. Once Bo was sure that your friend wasn't breathing he stopped and looked at you. "You're welcome." He said bluntly before giving your friend's body one last kick in the side and throwing it over his shoulder and taking it outside.

Obviously you were nervous, was Bo going to punish you? How much of that did he see? Did he see Y/F/N come onto you or did he just assume you were cheating on him? You were a little scared and tried to wait up for Bo but you were tired and thought about calling it a night but suddenly you weren't so tired. You wanted to melt into Bo's touch but you knew he was pissed at you so you decided that going to bed was a good idea, even if that meant not actually sleeping and just staring at the ceiling until the sun blinded you.

When you woke up the next morning you were expecting Bo to either start an argument or take you to one of the few buildings in town to admire Vincent's newest work, but then it came to your attention that he'd gotten his brother Lester to dump your friend's body in the pit outside of town. As inhumane as it sounded - ignoring the fact that your boyfriend is a murderer - you weren't upset, you were glad that Y/F/N got what he deserved and Bo was glad that you felt the same way. Yes, Bo was still very annoyed but he knew it wasn't your fault.

(gif credit: stabhappyslashers)

Vincent Sinclair

Vincent definitely wasn't thrilled about the idea of a friend visiting because he was scared of losing you. No matter how many times you told Vincent you'd never leave him he never fully believed you. Sure, you're a very open minded and friendly person who managed to love him for how he looks and his job but that didn't mean that you would stay with him forever - you were bound to find someone better than him.

After a lot of coaxing and promising, Vincent finally gave in and allowed you to let your friend visit as long as you told your friend that you were in a relationship and as long as Vincent didn't have to meet this friend of yours - but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on the two of you. He watched as you both walked around town and visited the House of Wax. Vincent found himself peering at the two of you from one of the windows on the outside.

"This place is weird. Why would you want to live in an abandoned town, anyways?" Y/F/N said, obviously very creeped out as he poked at one of the wax figures. "You've always been into a lot of weird shit, I see you haven't changed since high school." He half joked causing you to playfully roll your eyes and look at him. You were very much aware that Vincent was watching. "I'm not alone. I live here with my boyfriend."

"What boyfriend? This entire time I've been here, he hasn't shown up. I'm starting to think you're just playing hard to get." You felt sick. "W-Well, he's busy, he works and stuff." Y/F/N got closer. "What does this boyfriend of yours do?" He placed his hand on yours and you swore you heard something coming from below the two of you but Y/F/N was too focused on you to even react.

"Y/F/N, I'm serious." "So am I." He tried to kiss you but you shoved him back, knocking him into one of the figures which shattered on the floor, broken wax and bone fragments dumped on the floor. Your friend saw this and widened his eyes as he looked back at you and began to crawl away from you. "What the fuck is this? Is this a joke?" By now you were crying but your breath hitched in your throat as you saw Vincent creeping up behind Y/F/N holding two knives. You didn't speak as Y/F/N continued his rant and tried to get away from you while paying no attention to your boyfriend.

Long story short, somebody had to replace that broken wax figure and Y/F/N's visit couldn't have been anymore perfect. Vincent was upset about what'd happened but he was just glad that you were still with him even after all that. He didn't fully understand how you could still love him after that but you did and that was good enough for him.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter Five - Consolation

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

WARNINGS: Mentions of murder, grief, the aftermath of that death...all that Jazz! Plus a lil moment I’ve been fucking itching to include.

Chibs's breath was stuck in the middle of his throat, jutting thickly the more he thought about Opie cradling Donna's sallow cheeks as she bled out onto the gravel.

It'd cut deep, this one.

So many bodies he had bared witness to over the years. So many lives lost and souls snatched and whatever else right before his undaunted eyes--but nothing really hurt as much as that.

Because he knew what it was like. How it maimed a man. How it felt like his world was hurtling toward the chasms of hell during the moments after arriving at the scene and seeing his wife there. Dead.

Cold and dead and lonely. And completely gone.

Guilt resided, too. It was true tangible remorse for the simple proficiency of; that should've been me.

It happened with Diane--it happened to Chibs's wife, the mother of his kid, and the one true light in his life right after Isla. And it should've been him.

It was brutal, the way it happened tonight. It was fierce and heartless and Chibs knew in a flash that those bullets struck the wrong skull.

He couldn't bear the reverberation anymore, the gutturals from Piney's son who'd just lost his wife for no good reason during a drive-by in their quaint little town. The town that'd swelled wickedly with corruption these last few weeks.

Stahl was at the scene before he left. Looking pensive, actually. She looked guilty.

Chibs's basic instinct had landed the blame at her door--put the blood on her hands--but he kept his mouth shut for fear of what'd happen next. He didn't think that SAMCRO could handle this.

Because this wasn't a product of Mayan or Niner rivalry. He wasn't stupid--he knew that his President had something to do with this.

This was cultivated from the seeds sown by June Stahl, the pips planted so very deeply into the mind of Clay Morrow which forced him to believe that Opie Winston was a rat.

And he wasn't. He'd never sell his club out--no matter the damage, the pain inflicted upon him--and he'd never dream of pinning the fault on his brothers.

But he had to look a little bit closer to home if he wanted those answers. If he wanted to know just who sniped Donna--a completely innocent woman caught in the most ferocious of crossfires--he had to turn to someone that he knew was culpable of such activity.

Chibs's heart ached. It impaired him so very deeply that the only thing he could visualize on the ride back to Jax's house was her face.

Her face that dripped blood. Saturated crimson plagued his thoughts and forced his stomach to churn vociferously. He felt sick now.

He felt sick because Opie had lost his wife, Piney had lost a crucial member of his small family, and her kids had lost their mother. The woman that had worked so tirelessly to provide a life for them, to love and care for them unconditionally no matter what.

Opie was strong, he knew that--but he didn't know if he was strong enough to handle this. This crippling weight, this hurt and the idea of what could've been done differently.

Because so much could've happened to prevent this.

His tongue had become inoculated with bile, acrimonious ire for whoever the fuck was to blame for such unnecessary brutality--and, really, Chibs knew that he didn't have to look much further than Isla's favorite blue-eyed heathen this time.

And that broke his heart because of the pedestal she held that man upon. The pedestal she'd always held him atop, so fucking highly, too.

She knew that he was bad--an inherently bad human being--but he was just Tig. Her buddy. Clay's right hand that, really, he'd always count on. No matter what. And he'd always deliver the king's request, too.

Tig was the one that Isla called when her car broke down on the freeway and she needed to get home in time for Gemma's dinner.

The one she turned to for cheering up because he always knew how to crack a smile and get through to her.

The one that she strangely respected the most. Nobody really recognized what it was about that man that had Isla overjoyed when in his presence, she just was. And that was part of his charm.

But her father was anxious, now. Worried that she would take this news--if it came to light--badly. Because it was going to break her heart, regardless.

It was how she would handle it, which was the true hardship.

"Christ." Chibs's voice struggled to materialize, gesturing to his daughter passed out on Jax's couch. "How long's she been sleepin'?"

Mascara and eyeliner and whatever the fuck else she'd painted onto her face had started to melt away, trails of black and grey faintly running her cheeks.

"'Bout an hour." Gemma responded, sniffling back the putrid emotion she'd so obviously let flood the moments leading up to their arrival.

Jax's stomach was doing backflips at the thought of Isla crying herself to sleep in his living room--after everything that he'd put her through, too.

He feared that this was going to be the tip of the iceberg. That this was going to pulverize her sanity and compromise everything she had sought to fight off these last few days.

And he couldn't help but harbor those same suspicions as her father, either. Jax wanted to keep his mouth shut until he was certain that this was an inside job, but he was teetering toward that conclusion regardless.

It was the only viable explanation.

He, too, worried about what this would do to her. That finding out Tig was the potential culprit and reason why Opie's children were officially motherless.

"How's Ope?" She continued, already knowing the answer but asking anyway. Jax's head shook. "Oh."

"Not good, ma. But he's home now."

"And you're sure of that?"

"Yeah--I followed him back to make sure he got there in one piece. He wanted to leave the second the fuckin' ATF stormed in."

"Oh." Gem repeated herself, running her fingers through Isla's hair as she rested in her lap. "What about Clay? Where'd he get to?"

Chibs took a seat at one of the wooden chairs that'd been positioned around the coffee table, and Jax sank into the couch opposite the girls.

It was pitiful. Darkness enveloped them as Isla slept, innocently resting as the world shattered around her.

She wasn't oblivious to the happenings. She hadn't slept through it all, but she was done. Isla had been distant for days, had been fretting over the unimaginable and Gemma was worried that she was going to make herself sick if she continued the way that she was.

So she twisted her fingers and nails through the flowing waves of golden blonde, and soothed her the same way that she always did.

The same way that she found comfort as a kid.

He sighed. Exhausted. "Dunno. Last I saw he was with Tig."

"Aye." The Scot agreed with a nod, too. Hating the thought of Trager being responsible for something like this.

But it was merely a suspicion that Chibs hoped and prayed would get debunked sooner or later.

"Did he say anything?"

"Nah. He talked a little to Unser--seems to think it was a hit on Ope gone wrong--so, I guess they're gonna be lookin' into the Niners."

"Aye." Chibs spoke again, gesturing to Isla. "Did she say much when we left?"

"Not really--she just busied herself and cleaned up with Wendy. Seems like they're getting along now."

Jax smiled a bit, happy that his best friend and the mother of his child were starting to accept the presence of one another in Abel's life.

Truly, that's all he really wanted. That and his mother finally being able to turn the other cheek, and quit castigating his kid's mom.

"Did Clay leave before you?" Gemma asked, antsy. She was itching to get home, itching to see and comfort her husband because she knew that he was going to be fretting over this.

"I told you, the last I saw, he was with Tig. Dunno if he left after us, or if he's still there."

She looked away, smoothing her thumb over Isla's cheek.

"He'll be home soon--I should take off."

"Not on your own." Jax upheld, simply terrified of what could've happened to his mother had she left alone.

As far as Jax wanted her to know, this was bad blood between clubs. This was a hit put out on an innocent bystander because they knew it'd jolt SAMCRO--and it did.

It shook them to the very fucking core, jutting them repeatedly--mere moments away from crumbling and completely disintegrating into Harley Davidson dust.

And he really didn't want to admit that this was the work of his step-father and Alexander Trager. But he feared that was the only viable explanation.

"I'll--eh--I'll take her back." Chibs offered, getting up to ghost a hand over Isla's blushed cheek. "I was gonna take her home with me tonight, but I think she's better off stayin' put."

Jax agreed with a nod, smiling weakly at his mother. Though, she knew it was a coverup. A not-so-brilliant facade and attempt at showing that he was okay during this barbarous time.

"I don't wanna wake her." She mused, pushing strands of hair from her face. "She looks so damn peaceful."

Gemma hadn't a cozy moment with Isla for a while--not since she was recovering from a broken heart four summers ago.

The last time that she turned to Gemma--the same way she would as a child--for that motherly comfort.

"I know." The older man crouched to the ground, tracing faintly along her arm. Isla grumbled, slowly rousing. "C'mon petal, it's gettin' late."

He kept a hand against her, running this thumb over the freckled skin softly. Diane's crucifix caught his eye as she shifted, impairing him that little bit more tonight.

"What time is it?" She asked roughly, feeling a sting in her throat. Isla lifted herself off of Gemma's lap, rubbing at her eyes. "Is it late?"

"It's about one o'clock."

"Shit." Her hiss was sharp, galled that she'd been allowed to rest for so long whilst there was a literal wildfire sweeping its way through the club. "Ope--oh my god--Opie. Is he okay?"

Isla knew the answer. She knew what Jax was about to say before he even opened his mouth, and so tears ensued. Crystalline hues weeped and watered, and he was unsettled.

Unsettled because she was so strong in the face of such tragedy, rarely shedding any tears before an audience.

Unsettled because, up until the Kohn incident, Jax hadn't seen her cry since she was shot in the knee after three Mayans decidedly stormed the T M lot and strived to gun down each and every person on the premises.

He never forgave himself for that, actually. Because those bullets--though completely un-fatal and leaving a simple mark that, really, Isla referred to as her battle scars--should've been for him.

"He went home. To be with the kids." Jax cleared his throat, kneeling in front of her when Chibs got to his feet and gestured for Gemma. "He's--uh--he's in a bad way."

"Understandably." She mumbled. "Any ideas on who did this?"

Your favorite son.

"No. Clay thinks it might've been the Niners--shits been off since they decided to pull their fucking guns on us after the warehouse was raided."

"That was their rationale?"

"I guess so." He added. "It'd make sense. We lost their guns, so we lost a life--"

"But Donna." Isla argued, sitting upright. "Donna was innocent."

"We know that, love, but Laroy was probably under the impression that Ope was the one behind the wheel." Her father spoke over Jax, heeding his uncertainty. "It wasn't meant to be her."

Chibs had to blow his theory out of the water, firstly.

"A life is a life. To them, so long as they've got one of ours--someone close to us--they've succeeded with somethin'--"

"All they've succeeded with is leaving two kids without a fucking mother." Isla spat, throwing away the small blanket that Gemma had draped over her as she stood up. "And you've gotta stop being so fucking insensitive."

Jax stumbled backwards, watching her storm out of the room in her pretty little summer dress. He couldn't surmise whether following behind or leaving the woman to simmer alone, was the best idea.

It was a touchy subject, the loss of a parent. It was prickly and raw and it never ceased to strike Isla's heart. Because she understood.

She understood how much it hurt. The uncertainty of it all. Not knowing what to do next. How life changes more than what anyone ever prepares you for and, really, how nothing is ever the same again.

Isla knew it all too well. She'd been there, done that, and refused to go back. But with Chibs's life, his line of work, she was never granted that security.

And it wasn't particularly the security that she wanted, more so the knowledge of what--god forbid anything--would happen to her father. Because that's what bothered her the most about Diane.

She never knew anything about her mother's passing.

Jax got a pretty tight grip on the concept, too. But it was different with Isla--it was something she never quite grasped.

"A life is a life," Gemma mocked the insensitivity from the baffled Scotsman, shaking her head. "That wasn't just any life, Chibs. That was Opie's woman, the mother of his children, and one of Isla's oldest friends--she was family. She wasn't just a life."

His lips twitched before he exhaled sharply, knowing that she was right.

Knowing that his response was much too unsympathetic and heartless and, really, he was an idiot to forget how upset she got whenever something that pertained to the death of her mother was brought up.

"Your kid is grieving. She's grieving for Ope, for Piney, for Kenny and Ellie--for herself because this--" she gestured to nothing in particular, but he understood, "--is something she knows all too well, ain't it? Diane?"

"I know." Tersely, he responded. He pulled a hand through his hair. "I fuckin' know how she feels, but I didn't think she'd storm out when I said it!"

"Well, she's always been unpredictable."

"I know." His riposte was braided with anger, pure fury.

"Then why'd you say it?" Gemma jabbed. "Isla has been about six thousand miles away from us these last few days, and you thought that saying such a stupid thing wouldn't tip her over the edge?"

She was defensive of the blonde--always had been.

And Jax was sick of it.

Sick of the back-and-forth between the two. Sick of that holier than thou bullshit from Gemma--pretending that she wasn't thinking the same fucking thing--and sick of the way Chibs cared more to argue than to go after his daughter.

"Make sure Wendy stays if you two leave--I'm going."

"Where?" Chibs demanded.

But Jax just glared at him, stuffed his hands in both pockets, and walked straight out of the house.

It was cooler, now. The breeze had hit him square in the face the second he stepped over the threshold, and it was nice. To feel a little breeze that'd inevitably take the edge off of the lament sizzling away inside of him, was nice.

It was short lived, though. The second he realized that he couldn't see Isla--that she was completely out of sight--dragged him straight back down to earth, and the panic had set in.

He trusted her, of course he knew that she wasn't going to do anything stupid because she valued her life too much, and she wanted to do great things. So many great things.

But Jax also knew her too well. Well enough to know that the first place she would've thought about storming toward was the Clubhouse--the place that she'd find Tig.

And under any other circumstances, he wouldn't have rushed to get to her before she had a chance to get to T M. But the possibility of walking in and discerning Trager's inconsolable fury--his resentment and self-loathing--was much too great a risk for Jax to take.

He had to intercept.

He had to save her before she got the chance to set foot onto the property.

But, realistically, Jax was more than aware that Isla was probably already halfway there by now, and weaving through the unusual bustle of traffic in his small town just wasn't worth it.

"Shit." He growled, hopping onto his bike regardless. Saving a sliver of hope that he'd find her tonight.

He wasn't exactly optimistic, though. Because she'd already stormed four blocks.

Isla wrapped her cardigan tightly around her body--feeling the cold a bit more than what Jax had earlier--and hastily made her way downtown.

Surprisingly enough, she didn't fear the short walk toward the garage, but it was chilling. The thought of Donna's killer roaming freely, parading around that neighborhood, was daunting.

But she wasn't scared.

Or, at least, Isla wasn't scared until she heeded the red and blue flashing lights right in the middle of the intersection. The apparent murder scene.

Her heart sank, actually. The organ dropped to her stomach, pulsating slowly--barely--at the sight of Charming PD, CSI, and her. The group scattered, conversing, and speculating.

It was horrible. Sick.

She'd seen this before. She'd seen deaths and murders, and whatever came during the moments following. But she hasn't felt this way before.

The incapacitating throb. The discomfort and grief for such a horrendous--albeit freak--accident. And she wasn't stupid. She was as cognizant as her father and as empathetic as Jax, and she knew just as well as those two that this was not a purposeful attack.

Whether it was a consequence of Mayan or Niner misconduct, it was a wrongful onslaught that was about to cull an entire family. An entire charter.

If it hadn't already, that was.

She choked around the swell in her throat, padding along the sidewalk. She took her time, but she wasn't slow by any means. She had a place to be, and a specific person that she had to see--to talk to because she didn't know how to cope with this.

And it wasn't exactly her place to mourn for Donna. She hadn't been involved with her for some five years and she felt bad about the pair unable to rekindle their friendship. She felt bad about grieving the loss of Opie's wife--about taking the focus away from him.

But it hurt. It hurt so much--it sliced deeply, through flesh and tendon and bone--and she knew that Tig wouldn't judge her for this inveterate sorrow. He wouldn't see her as selfish or stupid for wanting to project her sincerities, her emotions.

Her heels clicked across the yard and she smiled a little bit when she passed Juice and Tig's bikes beside one another, letting her know that she wasn't going to be alone in there.

She was scared now, though. Because she hadn't talked about this yet. Hadn't talked about how she felt and how she was going to approach Opie the next time she saw him.

"Juice?" Isla squeaked from the doorway, waiting for him to turn around and run to her, or something. But he didn't move, didn't lift his head.

It was dreary inside. The lights had been dimmed, the men surrounding the tables and bar were downtrodden, and Isla felt as though she'd just walked through the gates of hell.

The vibrancy and boisterous nature of SAMCRO had come to a complete standstill, and she was actually yearning for the sleaze that usually enveloped the space.

Her sigh was defeated, forlorn. She sniffed as her nose ran, making her way to the bathroom to go and clean herself up--because she knew that she looked dreadful, and didn't want anybody to really see her that way.

"Is anyone in here?" She asked softly against the locked door, knowing that the answer was yes and that Tig was the occupant--but she persisted, anyway.

The mellifluous rhythm bled through the oak, jolting him still as blood poured from the gash in his head, and shattered glass surrounded his frame and the sink.

He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, glaring monotonously at himself in front of the mirror. Glaring at the fucking monster that was about to welcome Isla into open arms, comforting her because he knew that she'd need it.

"Yeah," He opened up, smiling down at her. "But I'm done, if you wanna--"

"What happened to you?" She put a hand against his chest, pushing him back into the room. Her brow furrowed when he didn't respond. "Tiggy?"

His entire body winced at Isla's soft touch. At the way her pink nails traced over the patch of skin on his chest, uncovered by his shirt--the shirt he was going to burn after tonight.

She gently gripped at his chin, turning his face to the right to get a better look at the incision on his left. Her eyes filled again, lips turned downward.

"Let me clean you up."

"You don't gotta--"

"I do." Isla cut him off, blinking away her tears. "If it doesn't get treated, it might get infected."

Like father, like daughter--always the first person to tend to an injury. She was so loving, so benevolent. Nothing like him, he thought.

Tig watched her maneuver around the tiny bathroom, admiring her desire to patch him up. To care for him and help make him feel better.

Not much would've helped at that moment, but she was trying her best.

"How'd you get over here?" He asked, leaning against the sink.

"I walked--"

"You walked?" Pissed, Tig spat. "Jesus fuck, Isla, you can't walk these parts alone, anymore."

She looked up at him from the spot she was crouched at, sifting through a small first-aid kit in the cabinet. "Who said I was alone?"

"Were you?" His eyes narrowed. She got to her feet, putting the small plastic box beside him, looking his face over a few times.

Her head shook. "Nope. Never alone with these thoughts."

Tig couldn't not chuckle at her response, but he was still worried about her. He didn't worry often--he was too selfish for that--but anything to do with his favorite blonde saw him panic like a madman.

"And the voices, too." She mused, breaking out into a genuine smile the first time all evening. "They always keep me real good company."

"Yeah?" Isla's head bobbed, cupping his chin again. "Me too--me 'n you don't seem to be too different after all, baby."

"Never said that we weren't." She poked her tongue out a little bit, surveying the damage. "Never said that we were the same, either."

"We're not the same." He confirmed, curling his hand around her wrist as she held an alcohol pad above his cut. "We are not the same, Isla."

Her head tilted, trying to discern what he meant. But she couldn't, and it caused an uncomfortable shiver to flicker down her spine.

"This might hurt." She whispered in an attempt to dissipate the small tension, gently running her thumb over his chin.

The other was--alongside her pointer finger--tapping the small antiseptic against the wound. She frowned the more he winced, though Tig's smile and hold on her wrist was still present.

"I like the pain."

"I know you do, Tiger." Isla joked. But she couldn't help wondering how the fuck he managed to do this to himself tonight.

Why he would do this to himself tonight.

"I don't wanna have to stitch your pretty face up," she pursed her lips and got him to hold the cotton in place.

"You think I got a pretty face?"

"The prettiest." Her retort was instantaneous, missing that usual glint of something resembling a joke.

She was serious--she wasn't engaging in that usual banter with him today. She was too run down for it, actually.

"Gonna have to give you a couple of butterfly stitches, if that's okay?" Isla looked up at him, holding out the small bandages with a smile. "It won't hurt. And they'll probably dissolve in, like, a week or so."

"Go for it. I love when you play nurse."

She lightly whacked at his chest, laughing as she got him to sit on the closed toilet lid to get a better reach. He wasn't tall, but neither was she. Isla needed him to lower his height if she wanted to successfully repair him.

The comfort, the aid and assistance had him forgetting about tonight--had her forgetting the real reason for her impromptu arrival to the clubhouse--but not forgetting about the newfound misery that encircled SAMCRO.

"You alright?" He asked when she hadn't made a movement, when her eyes seemed to focus on the shelves above the tank of the toilet. "I can do it myself, if you don't wanna--"

"I wanna." The smile she produced was fake--uncomfortable as tears rolled down perfectly blushed cheeks.

It broke his heart. Everything she was doing and saying--and even feeling because her pain was palpable--was breaking his heart and Tig felt like hell for doing this.

"I'm sorry," she stuck the first stitch to his forehead carefully, getting him to rip off the back of the second because her fingers were too shaky to get a solid grip.

"Don't be." He handed it to her. "It's been a tough night."

Her laugh was humorless, dull. "You can say that again, Tiggy."

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." She sent him an apologetic look, but he got it.

Isla trusted him with her life--for some reason--but she found it hard to open up sometimes. In regards to something this serious, she struggled to get a solid handle on her emotions and how to express them.

He understood her, though. Understood her well enough, her mannerisms and thought processes, and he just wondered if she felt like divulging her pain tonight.

She didn't, though. And Tig didn't particularly mind that. He didn't want to feel that twisted pang of regret, the vehement churn of his stomach whenever she said Donna's name--which she was yet to do, and she probably wouldn't at this point, either.

"I just wanna cry." She stated plainly, not even reluctantly anymore.

Like Gemma, he hadn't seen her cry for a long time. And it wasn't a nice visual, actually.

But he was supportive, and just wanted her to do anything that'd make her feel somewhat better--so he encouraged it.

Isla put everything down, gave his face the once over for the last time, and set herself on the tile with her back to the door.

"You wanna cry? Do it, baby. If it'll help, just do it." He assured, getting to the ground beside her. "I know you don't like doin' it in front of me, but I won't tell anyone, if that's what you want."

"You make me seem like a battle ax." Isla quipped, sniffling. "I don't care if anyone sees me cry--everyone knows that I do. It's just..."

"Showing vulnerability ain't a nice thought. I know."

God. She hated how well he understood her. How he knew what she was going to fucking say. All the time.

Tig wound an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. Instinctively, she rested her head against his shoulder.

"I get it." He stated mindlessly, pushing tousled blonde strands from her forehead. "But y'know you can always trust me, kid. I'll never tell anyone that you feel emotions--"

"I'm literally the most emotional person you all know." Isla protested weakly, hoping he didn't mind the feeling of her tears bleeding through his shirt.

He didn't.

"I just don't really like crying. It's not a true testament to my character--I'm supposed to be the happy one around these parts. The sickeningly optimistic Irish girl--"

"You can still be a crier, too."

"I know." She finally wrapped her arms around his middle as they sat together. "But people just don't take girls seriously when they cry. And I don't want my position here to be compromised, I guess. I don't want my dad, or Gemma, or Clay to think I can't handle being around the club anymore--because I can. And I always will."

"They wouldn't think different of you for that." He promised, rubbing circles over her shoulder the more he felt the navy cotton dampen. "This is a real tough thing, Isla, nobody is gonna chastise you for shedding a tear. They'd probably think different of you if you didn't cry."

"You think?"

He nodded.

"Crying shows that you got empathy and a heart. We all know your heart is bigger than..." Thick eyebrows crumpled together before he let out a little chuckle. "Bigger than Clay's ego. It's huge, your heart."

"Well, it's gotta be. If I wanna love all of you--warts 'n all--my heart has gotta be huge."

"Exactly," he drew out his response, earning a laugh and something reminiscent of an optimistic smile from her.

Trager never saw himself as the kind of man to make a girl smile or laugh after a little pep talk--after or before incredible sex, perhaps, but never as a result of his unusually comforting nature.

But he just had that effect on Isla--something she wasn't able to extrapolate verbally. Something she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to comprehend, either.

"You've just gotta try not to make yourself too vulnerable, that's all, 'cuz people will get used to coddling you. And I know that's now what you want."

"That's what I mean." She frowned, pulling herself away a bit. "I don't wanna be seen as inferior for being able to cry about the things that you, or Gem, or dad, are able to keep a poker face over. I'm just...I'm just thin-skinned sometimes, and I'm yet to be desensitized to this stuff, I guess."

"You're not thin-skinned for crying tonight." He scolded, knowing that she didn't want to elucidate her thoughts about the happening, but he just couldn't help himself.

"Desensitization don't mean shit when you've lost someone you care about--it's always gonna hurt, sweetheart. Always. And there ain't nothing you can do to stop that."

He was the one with misty eyes, now. He was the one trying to bite back tears, trying to conceal the spread of his sadness--the uncomfortable soreness in his chest. In his heart that wasn't anywhere near as big and full as hers.

"You're never gonna grow immune to grief--I promise you'll always feel that. Whether you show it--how you show it--is another thing, though."

"You feel it?"

"Tonight?"

"In general."

She couldn't seem to recall the last time that she saw him cry--if she'd ever seen it, actually. Aside from this moment, of course.

Tears fell to the apples of his cheeks and she, without any reluctance, used the pad of her thumb to brush them away.

And he got it, now. The idea of showing vulnerability being a fucking liability. Because the pity washing over her soft, beautiful features made him feel fragile.

"All the time. All the fuckin' time."

"It really never goes away?"

"No." Tig sniffed harshly, forcing a smile. "But you learn to cope. You learn that it ain't the end of the world and that life just goes on after death."

"Profound." She chuckled once again. "That's some deep, deep shit, Tigger. Almost made me forget about how much I wanna hysterically break down."

"Do it. That'll make me feel better about my injury."

"Your self-inflicted injury." Isla stated knowingly, but she didn't clarify just what she meant.

Because it could've been an array of things, but he liked to think that she was just referring to his little forehead aperture.

"I like it. It makes you look badass." Isla held a hand out to Tig when he pulled himself upward, and she wanted to follow suit.

"Does it make me look hot, too?"

"Absolutely." Again, it wasn't laced in a tease. It was honest, and the small smile she produced was sincere. "Be careful with it, though. Try not to get it wet or anything, because it'll dissolve too soon--"

"I've had them before, y'know?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?" Isla rolled her eyes. "You're a super scary, malicious, calculating guy when you've gotta be. But I know that you're accident prone."

He curled his eyebrow upward. "Scary?"

"Totally. I've seen you hold a gun to a guy's head." A chill impaired her, frightening her. "Shits terrifying, Tig. Remind me to never get on your bad side."

"You couldn't even if you tried."

"You think?" Her qualm was unexpected, almost challenging him as she unlocked the bathroom door and stepped into the hallway. "I think I could."

What's she playing at? She was sobbing two minutes ago.

Oh, I get it. This is her facade--actin' all care free, and shit.

Tig followed behind--every step--as she clicked along the wooden floor of the clubhouse.

"You couldn't. Trust me." He stated lowly, reaching for her hand when she stuttered a little.

Isla noticed her father next time Juice, drinking at the bar with their backs to the duo. She didn't want to see him, right now.

Talking to Chibs would've ignited whatever fucking fire inside of her that'd started to blaze out of control earlier tonight, and she'd worked hard to contain this inferno.

"What you can do, though, is turn your pretty little ass back around, and go get some rest in the dorm. It's been a long night."

She didn't refute, she didn't try to get out of it because she didn't want to. Isla couldn't bear the thought of waltzing past her father, talking to him about her tiny outburst, and resuming as normal.

Because she couldn't do that. Not tonight, anyway.

"Tig?"

"Uh huh." He responded, his eyes glued to the back of Juice's cut as he slammed yet another shot back.

Probably wondering what the fuck had gone down tonight.

"Can you stay with me?" Her retort forced his focus to land on her, and the defenselessness--sheer exposure--in her attitude.

It wasn't the simple fact of wanting to be alone.

She couldn't be alone. Not anymore.

Ringed fingers squeezed her hand reassuringly, guiding her into the back room, holding her close. Because that's what she really, truly wanted.

"'Course I can. Anything for you, Isla."

[spaceygoobert]

Penny for some thoughts about the clusterfuck that is Solar Opposites s2 (Contains spoilers)

Now that I am no longer drunk out of my mind and watched s2 four more times just to be sure I didn’t miss anything while I was crossfaded. it’s time to talk about it

Ep1 was great. It had more lore for shlorpians with a different perspective and i find it interesting that Korvo didn’t even know there were rich shlorpians. They also lived on floating platforms in the sky, like rich people lived in the clouds and working shlorpians lived on the ground, literally separating the two types of classes

The rich shlorpians said they wanted the pupa so they could get back to being rich, which means they don’t know that they will die, either way, they been jebaited

Did not expect shlorpians to be religious... kinda. but i’m not complaining.

The jokes hit hard and everything was kinda fast. The funniest thing about the season was a wacky plots 

I like how different Terry and Korvo are when dealing with negative emotions 

Terry becomes passive aggressive when dealing with negative emotions. specifically with anger. 

When Korvo basically changes everything about Terry in the Lake House episode, the only thing he doesn’t change is how Terry deals with negative emotions. Imagine not being understood and then becoming a goth because no one understands you, not even your partner, who is essentially the same person as you now. And it’s great.

I love violent goth Terry.

kinda shows how repressed he is to the point of “breaking”

Korvo becomes petty when dealing with negatives emotions too, but instead of anger, it’s sadness or when he’s hurt emotionally

S2ep2 reminds me of s1ep3, they both have something to do with parties and Korvo not being included and because he’s petty af he makes a complicated plan. the plot for the episode was just as mind-fucking as s1.

When Korvo’s sad/hurt, instead of talking about it, he makes a whole ass bill to ban Terry from having to hang out with his human friends because he spends too much time with them and not enough time with him. It isn’t until the shit hits the fan that he finally fesses up, which I find to be perfect. AND it ends with a uwu kiss. 

I find it odd and genius that Terry isn’t how you expect him to be. He looks like he wears his heart on his sleeves, yet he’s the one who shows less emotion than Korvo. Plus he doesn’t know how to express bad emotions and does the whole pretending that everything is fine thing

Could be due to being a laid-back person. By being laid-back, it means not worrying or at least showing it (which btw, if you express emotions, it means you care) 

Maybe someone hurt him enough for him to be passive aggressive OR it could be Shlorp, who the fuck knows

it begs the question, if he represses the bad feelings, what else does he repress?

Korvo LOOKS like he wouldn’t be the type to express emotions, yet he’s the one who is able to show sadness and anger— or a better way to explain, he doesn’t hold back on his emotions. He’s more open of the two adult aliens

AND THEY COME FROM THE SAME PLACE.

When Korvo insults Terry, he gets angry

When Terry insults Korvo, he gets sad and cries.

Korvo and Terry do things to cancel each other out. It’s cute.

Like when Korvo bans dinner parties and Terry still goes to them using sci-fi stuff to do it.

or when korvo goes to live with the other aliens and Terry trashes the house to get rid of his presence. Then mentions that Korvo’s dead

They bond over making fun of humans.

I’d expect this from Korvo, but Terry also makes fun of them too, despite wanting to be liked by them. Dunno, maybe Korvo rubbed off on him.

Korvo and Terry strive to get people to like them.

Korvo with the new aliens

Terry with humans

The way they do it is different. Terry acts like himself with humans, Korvo tries to act like himself but he lies to fit in

The wall, my god, the wall was amazing. The episode that focuses on the wall doesn’t take place inside the wall.

I never thought i’d feel for The Duke, though i expected he and Cherie would have some kind of relationship going on

The music, my god so good

Also the trope with the hero who unknowingly saves the villain.

Forest City, (Wood City?) I don’t remember what they called it

The plot for that was so ridiculous; they lose their car in the forest so they use a device to build a city so they could rent a car to find their car, but they end up getting lost in the city.

The fact that Terry took somewhat studied “pathfinding to prepare for life on dangerous aliens world”

I died when Korvo said he wanted to be a gangster, then he never actually becomes one and keeps getting chased by wolves. In the end, he was just a guy in a business suit

Jesse becomes a bad bitch like I knew she would

I can’t believe all four of the characters lost sight of their goal within a few days probably.

Also yumyulack jr

and the ref to wolf of wall street. Wait, is that why wolves were chasing Korvo because he was attempting to be a gangster? WHAT IS THE RELATION, besides being in a fucking forest?

Prostitute Terry and his tiddies

Korvo and Terry actually like being in each other's company

Red Goobler

My eyes were burned out of my skull, you know what i’m talkin about, the “sleeping through the alarm” scene, which got me second guessing myself that maybe it might be an alarm but it turns out they’re fucking. and there’s a wet condom on the ceiling.

the possibility of Korvo being pregnant? For s3? Impossible but still, it would be funny, then it turns out he’s not pregnant, it’s another red goobler, but he can’t tell if it’s from stress or the fucking

Terry is trying his best

I hope they don’t make terry into an idiot. Like in s1, he was dumb but not an idiot.

also terry admitting he’s too insecure to form his own opinions and Korvo liking the fact that he doesn’t have a firm belief

I am happy for that basic rat chick

Also if Korvo’s a bottom, and assuming Terry is one too, they don’t fuck because they’re both busy being bottoms?

After one night of implied sex, Korvo wanted to marry the red goobler. was the implied sex that good?

The apple pencil pro was just weird

Now that the solar opposites are dead, but not really, what now?

Can we talk about how they all went to fulfill each other’s goals more than their own. It’s sweet.

Lets not talk about Terry wanting to eat out Ms. Frankie, but Korvo does it instead, and he keeps going at it

Korvo likes eating out confirmed?

There was a lot of sexual stuff in this show. I dig it.

Also Terry being the first to die in the last episode, I dunno if I could see him killing his family. I mean I know he would but everyone else had some kind of contraption, except Korvo, who used magic instead, which is funny because he’s the most scientific one there, unless he uses science in it then it would make sense.

Mini Korvos look cute but I know they’re all little shits

i kinda wanna know more about Yumyulack’s past as a bounty hunter, like what did they do as a curriculum, was there even a course on bounty hunting? did Yumyulack only say that to sound cool? who knows! I hope s3 has Korvo and Jesse plots because I see them to be the most alike.

Dunno why, but all the solar’s head exploding was aesthetically pleasing and when they all get rebirthed again with their heads popping out of the tree, reminds me of the tree from pocahontas

This season had a bunch of sci-fi stuff and I love it. I hope there’s more sci-fi stuff in the future.

Also Korvo and Terry are both fucking idiots and I live for it.

[tibby]

If you have the time can you please please please recap season 4 of riverdale. I was going to binge it on Netflix but things happen and then I saw your post about the graduation episode and HAD to watch that happen and now I’m recommitted to the cause and need to know what happened while I was gone

sure. okay so the season sadly starts with the death of fred andrews in a very sentimental and moving episode that’s kind of seperate from the rest of the show so it’s not really until episode two that things kick off. the riverteens are kind of thriving in a parentless world because milf alice was kidnapped by a cult, dilf hiram and milf hermione are in prison, milf penelope is in hiding after killing a bunch of people, milf mary is kind of just There, milf gladys went back to toledo after her drug empire failed, god knows what milf sierra and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad are off doing, and dilf fp is the sheriff but because it’s fp he’s kind of bad at it. so the riverteens are horrified when their new principal mr honey expects them to be at school on time and disapproves of them throwing school dances because students keep getting murdered at them. cheryl, who an episode prior never wanted anyone in riverdale to celebrate the 4th of july ever again because of her brother’s death, considers this an act of oppression and throws a party at her house. however, as she is keeping her brother’s mummified corpse in the basement, she gets angry when reggie tries to sneak down there. meanwhile gay kevin is trying to make amends with betty for the time he tried to have her lobotomised because of the cult led by chad michael murray. betty uses this to her advantage to find out where the cult is, teaming up with her half brother, charles (not to be confused with chic, who was only PRETENDING to be charles back in season two). archie gets munroe, his prison buddy, to attend riverdale high, and reggie is weirdly jealous about it. archie discovers that this is because reggie is being abused by his father, so they smash in his car and apparently this solves everything. jughead starts attending stonewall prep, where he meets bret weston wallis, donna sweett, joan berkeley, and jonathan. he also reunites with moose, who disappeared in mid s3 after cheryl outed him to the whole school including his homophobic dad, and then his homophobic dad dressed up as the gargoyle to try and stop moose and gay kevin hooking up in the sex bunker they stole from dilton doiley after he killed himself, but it turns out that his homophobic dad was just angry HE never got to fuck gay kevin’s straight cop dad back in the day. it was this whole thing. anyway, moose is like “i’m going by my real name, marmaduke now, so people don’t find out about my dad” but everyone does anyway and so moose mysteriously disappears again. betty finds out where the cult is (after disarming a bomb attached to her sister polly using a bobby pin) and goes to rescue her mother. milf alice reveals that chad michael murray is using the cult money to build a rocket, and his wife/fake daughter evelyn is going to drive a bus full of cultists off a cliff. the day is saved! veronica finds out that her father’s real surname is luna and decides to start going by that as an act of rebellion because he keeps leaving the prison that he owns to fuck with her after she had him arrested. archie decides to turn his gym into a community centre with munroe’s help. cheryl, who, for unknown reasons, obtained custody of polly’s twins, immediately fires the nanny that toni hired because he said there were probably rats in the walls and went into the basement. cheryl goes to make sure that the nanny didn’t interfere with her brother’s mummified corpse, and toni walks in on her stitching him up. videotapes start arriving at the homes of the riverdale residents of said homes being filmed for hours. onto halloween! toni tells cheryl they can’t have a dead body in the horse and makes her rebury jason, at which point cheryl claims she is being haunted by a doll named julian, who is supposedly possessed by the spirit of her other brother that she ate in utero, but the haunting will stop if they unbury jason. toni agrees, but the doll continues to appear in weird places, and cheryl is forced to confess that while she WAS gaslighting her before, she isn’t right now. betty bonds with charles while receiving prank phone calls from polly, who is now in a mental institution. archie and munroe try to throw a halloween party at their community centre for the troubled youths but it’s interrupted by a drug dealing gang trying to start shit in the parking lot, thus giving archie a new enemy. reggie destroys mr honey’s office for the joke but mr honey catches him and is like “you do this because your dad hits you.” jughead uncovers mysteries surrounding strange disappearances of prep students known as “the stonewall four,” and donna drugs him so she and bretjoanjonathan can lock him in a coffin overnight as a bit. meanwhile, veronica burns a man alive in her basement. archie becomes a teen vigilante for the millionth time in the series, jughead and the other stonewall stags go into the running to be the ghostwriter for the baxter brothers franchise, veronica gets her mother out of prison but then finds out that her half sister, hermosa the PI, got their father out of prison, and he is now mayor again. betty and gay kevin start an fbi training course in which betty realises the serial killer gene is a real thing and she does have it, and remembers when she killed her childhood cat. jughead finds out that his grandfather who drunk himself to death but also abandoned fp but is also just some guy ACTUALLY wrote the baxter brothers franchise and is like “i have to reveal this!” so he takes it to his english teacher mr chipping but then mr chipping jumps out of a window before anything can come of it, and jughead is horrified when the stonewall stags have no reaction. cheryl is still convinced she is being haunted by a doll and things are further complicated when her extended family shows up. her uncle discovers jason’s body in the basement, threatens to send cheryl away, and is killed by toni. speaking of death, archie is still on his vigilante shit and asks hiram for help, at which point the near dead body of the gang leader, dodger shows up wrapped in carpet outside of the community centre. betty visits chic in prison to find out more about charles, and when chic threatens to reveal where milf alice buried the man she killed back in season two, charles and fp go to dig it up again and move it somewhere else. to get her family away from her and also in the spirit of thanksgiving, cheryl makes them think that they ate her uncle. dodger’s family show up at the community centre thanksgiving for revenge and there’s almost a shoot out, but thankfully the deep fryer explodes and chaos is avoided! milf mary later suggests the deep fryer exploding was archie’s dead dad’s ghost. betty and jughead spend the weekend at stonewall prep, where they play a homoerotic game of never have i ever with bret and donna. donna says that she and mr chipping were having an affair. now it’s time for the gang to go to therapy: archie gets diagnosed with gay but is also just suffering from an insane guilt complex, betty has mommy issues, veronica has daddy issues, cheryl is being gaslit but did NOT eat her brother in utero, jughead is just some guy. jughead finds out where his abusive alcoholic grandfather has been hiding out, and meanwhile his dad gets shot. veronica decides to fight back against her father by starting a rival rum business. polly rips off a nurse’s face and betty finds out that everyone in her family has a trigger word instilled in them by the cult, so she imagines herself going back in time to STOP her child self killing her cat to learn how to control it. cheryl uncovers her gaslighter by literally gassing her house, and it’s revealed that milf penelope was living in the walls and mad that cheryl had jason’s body. cheryl reburies jason and imprisons her mother in the sex bunker. archie’s uncle shows up, just in time for football season! the riverteens are playing stonewall prep, and reggie reveals that the preppies fight dirty, just in time for them to tonya harding munroe’s knees as he is their star player. archie’s uncle gives munroe steroids so he can play anyway, and riverdale loses but munroe gets a scholarship. cheryl feuds with her new cheerleading coach and locks her in her office so she has a panic attack. hiram threatens to sue veronica for stealing his rum recipe, so she teams up with cheryl (maple syrup queen) to create a new type. jughead joins the stonewall prep secret society, the quill and skull, and reveals that he watched a homeless man die. also, the cheerleading team performs cherry bomb. betty starts feuding with bret and decides to stand off against him in a quiz show, and although she wins, she is accused of cheating and is forced to give it up. she also wanted to use this to try and get into yale because apparently “cooper” is an uncommon name and people associate it with her serial killer father. veronica and cheryl enlist milf penelope and her former brothel in a hotel to run their underground rum dealership after hiram kept fucking shit up at veronica’s speakeasy. jughead is forced to come up with new stories for his baxter brother books, and so he writes about betty’s serial killer father (uh oh!) archie tries to restart his father’s construction company but his uncle’s shenanigans make it hard and gay kevin’s straight former cop dad has HAD IT. fangs is back from cult recovery, but gay kevin has gotten into non sexual tickle porn. toni and fangs get in on this they use this to blackmail nick st clair after he returns and understandably upsets cheryl, his would be rape victim. archie is attacked in the bathrooms at school because his uncle can’t mind his own business, but this plot was fucking boring so i don’t remember most of it. jughead and bret decided to duel, because of course, and betty uses this as a chance to investigate the preppies further. she finds out that bret films sex tapes and blackmailed moose with one, and also has one of her and jughead. she also finds a video suggesting donna lied about her affair with mr chipping. veronica goes to new york to visit katy keene, played by lucy hale of fantasy island fame, who tells her that her mother is dying. veronica returns home just in time to hear that hiram has a mysterious disease and decides to make amends. jughead is accused of plagiarism, meanwhile veronica realises her father thrives off war, and continues their rum battle. archie is now drinking at school and veronica accuses mr honey of being a fascist for having a problem with it. BUT. MOST IMPORTANTLY. ALL SEASON WE HAVE BEEN TEASED WITH DEADHEAD. AND IT IS FINALLY HAPPENING. IDES OF MARCH PARTY AT STONEWALL PREP. AND BETTY BASHES JUGHEAD’S HEAD IN WITH A ROCK. betty tries to prove that the stonewall stags did it instead but donna is an insane lesbian and thrives off gaslighting and fucking with her. because jughead died, betty gets his spot at yale. the core four are accused of murder but cleared of everything. jughead has a funeral, and bret’s attempt of proving jughead isn’t in the casket are thwarted by the sweet pea, the sweetest pea in the room. hiram shows up just to fire fp as sheriff. betty kisses archie to help with her grief, and veronica ends things with them both. but donna is not convinced, and goes around stalking betty, saying she watched her sex tape and knows that betty couldn’t last so long without sex with jughead. and she is right! because lo and behold, jughead is alive and hiding in the sex bunker, despite donna’s best attempts to catch them out. donna knows they’re up to something and implies she killed jonathan when bret doubts her. betty and archie are like “yeah we only dated for the bit :/” but their texting implies it was...more. betty and jughead return to stonewall and expose the preppies, but they decide not to interview jonathan because he “has food poisoning.” or he’s dead. their other teacher kills himself, and fp reunites with his abusive father. betty discovers that donna’s grandmother was one of the people killed for the rights to the baxter brothers/tracy true franchise, and the entire scheme was a complicated revenge plot by donna to get back at their teacher for killing her grandmother. betty blackmails her with this information so donna can’t have the tracy true contract, and everything is “wrapped up” just in time for gay kevin to announce he’s doing a variety show. gay kevin’s intentions of performing hedwig are destroyed when mr honey is like “no, this is inappropriate for high schoolers,” and so the riverteens decide to band together and have everyone perform hedwig songs as an act of protest. meanwhile, betty and jughead fight because jughead didn’t do his homework because he was too busy watching the stalker vhs tapes, and veronica and archie fight because he lied about her father working out at his gym, given that hiram has tried to kill him multiple times and doesn’t really care about his health. betty and archie use this as an opportunity to kiss during origin of love. the variety show is cancelled, but the core four and gay kevin perform midnight radio on the roof, and jughead watches a stalker vhs tape of someone in a betty mask killing someone in a jughead mask. tickle porn shenanigans continue, and gay kevin is threatened over cheating his original tickle porn handler out of money. mr honey then forces them to shut the website down. cheryl leaves the rum business after her mother is threatened because of goons that were mad at hiram. hiram decides to deal with this by going after said goons. archie writes a song for betty, they explore their relationship further, but she picks jughead over him even when he says he’ll dump veronica for her. jughead discovers that ethel watched his and betty’s sex tape, and he and charles uncover blue velvet video, which houses sexy films and snuff films, and jughead is like “oh this is connected to the whole vhs stalker thing.” cheryl is sent a video of someone dressed up as her father killing someone dressed up as her brother. the riverteens turn their focus to the fact that all of them except archie and jughead have been banned from prom for various reasons, and betty suggests they kill mr honey as punishment. jughead writes an elaborate murder fantasy about them doing so, and also kills off reggie and drives cheryl insane for the bit i guess. the riverteens conclude that mr honey was behind the vhs stalker tapes and have him fired, and he tells them they’re all deranged before going to teach at stonewall prep. the school secretary tells them all the wonderful things mr honey did for the school and hands jughead a recommendation letter he wrote him for college. jughead realises they fucked up and rewrites his story so mr honey lives, but uh oh! he and betty uncover a vhs tape of their fictional murder of mr honey, much like the others.

and that’s what you missed on riverdale!