#peak wolf dad energy

[sticksandsharks]

Tasyi and the Wolf

characters from my graphic novel, The Wildercourt. (due publishing in 2024)

[thejacketscloset]

Reposting bc I posted this at like 11 at night as a reblog to an old post which was a mistake LMDOAHD

@myriadblvck @forestshadow-wolf U GUYS SAID U WERE INTRESTED SO HERE!!! I hope u don't mind being tagged GAHDHD

A little settup story for my GOW au where Simon is Kratos and Joseph is Atreus!

>

Joseph's mother had spent many nights telling him stories about the gods of their world. He would look up at her with wonder in his eyes after each tale, amazed by the wonders she spoke of. He would ask if he could be as strong as the gods one day, "just like dad". He had no knowledge of his father being a god, he simply saw his father as being that strong. She would chuckle, kiss his forehead, and tell him "only if you get lots of rest tonight."

Joseph had never imagined gods would be the ones to take them both away from him.

When it happened they hid Joseph away. A section underneath the floor had been created perfectly for only him to fit. He heard a battle above, a house being destroyed and his parents screams, but he didn't dare move. He had promised his mother he wouldn't come out until he was told it was safe. He stayed there below the floorboards for hours, too petrified to check if it was safe.

Joseph wasn't sure how much later it took before the floors above him were torn away, all he remembered was shaking as he stared up to the figure above him. Slowly, he began to recognize the scarred face that bored down at him. His uncle Simon, who had gone missing a few years prior.

"Joseph?"

The gruff voice startled him, and he blinked up at his uncle with unshed tears.

"What happened here?" Simon continued to ask. He sounded unsure, looked even more so lost while he looked at Joseph.

Joseph wasn't sure how to respond. He had a million questions. Where was his mom and dad? Why was uncle Simon there? Was he safe to come out yet? The tears felt like they were welling up more. A panicked look crossed Simon's face.

"Do not cry." The words sounded harsh out of Simon's mouth, though he didn't mean them to be. He was out of his depth, with no idea how to comfort his nephew, and freshly grieving the death of his brother and sister-in-law.

"Come, we cannot stay here." Simon spoke again when he was met with no response, and he lifted Joseph up and out of the floor.

Joseph looked over the tatters of what was left of his home distantly. He wondered to him self what would happen next.

"Your parents.. We will collect their ashes, and spread them atop the highest peak of the realms." Simon explained, hesitance clear in his tone. "It was your father's last wishes."

More tears welt up in Joseph's eyes. That time, Simon let him cry it out.

-

When Joseph had properly calmed down enough they began preparing. Simon instructed him to collect plants and other prayer materials to bless the bodies while he prepared lumber for the funeral pyre.

Neither of them spoke throughout the process, both trying to process their own grief quietly.

A few hours later, everything was ready and they stood side by side as the flames from the pyre rose.

Joseph cried again, and Simon wondered if it was typical for children his age to cry so much.

When the pyre burnt out, Simon collected the ashes and took stock of his supplies. The journey they would need to travel would be harsh, and was not one suited for a boy. He needed to be able to gage how well Joseph was prepared for it.

"Did your parents teach you to hunt?" He asked suddenly, breaking the long streak of silence. Joseph nodded to him.

"Show me."

Joseph made a confused face.

"Right now?" He asked, his voice was jarringly small.

"I need to see your skill. How else will I know if you're ready for this journey?"

Joseph nodded in understanding. After a few minutes of preparing, the child was armed with a bow and quiver. He was already rushing ahead of Simon, reminding him of just how much energy a child really can contain.

He silently prayed to his brother that he could protect that for Joseph. He knew better than to believe that he would.

The world they were to venture was no place for a boy. Only warriors.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Y’all, there are so many details that I love in this just—

Sky being the gentle peacemaker and trying to smooth things over when Twi’s finally confronted a out his wolf form:

LOOK AT HIS FACE 😭❤️

Warriors and Twi being bros MY GOSH WE NEED MORE OF THEM TOGETHER:

ALSO LOOK AT TWI AND WILD BEING ADORABLE:

And it’s both interesting and also really funny watching Wild trying to explain the situation:

He’s such a dope LOL 🤣 Tho tbf I’d be wrapping my head in circles trying to explain it too

But I absolutely adore that some of the others, who’ve had potentially more magical/fantastical adventures are just like “…Dude. Why are you making this a big deal”

Legend out here flaunting that he’s done a crap ton of things and people turning into animals is absolutely nothing to him ❤️ But I just adore this detail, because Wild’s been through a lot and seen a lot but most of it isn’t really magic related, you know? A lot of his game mechanics are practical, aside from like elixirs and stuff. It’s a nice detail.

BUT GUYS. TIME STOLE THE FRIGGIN SHOW IN THIS

HE WASN’T EVEN LISTENING THIS ENTIRE TIME FOCHFWLWPUEBRF HAHAHAHAHA HIS FACE OH MY GOSH GUYS HE IS SUCH A DAD THIS IS PEAK DAD ENERGY 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

AND LOOK AT WARS BEING SUCH A SNOT

He’s definitely feeling better my gosh I love his dynamic with Twi HAHAHAHAHA

I’ll stop with screenshots because I’m basically pasting the entire dang comic LOL, but I loved seeing the different reactions to Twi transforming! Four clearly still has issues with it, I wonder when that will be addressed? And Wind was being so adorable foguskaos awwww

Anyway. I loved the update lol. What do y'all think?

Moving Forward

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[morningstargirl666]

It’s Official: Another Chapter is Coming

Hey guys, been a while am I right? This is just a post to tell everyone my writer alter ego is not dead, and I am still working on chapter 12 of TBBW. Wrote 1k-2k tonight so I’m doing good, feeling good and decided to share a sneak peak. I’m starting to really enjoy writing this chapter, and am very excited to share it with y’all once its finished. Don’t know when that will be, could be this weekend, could be in two weeks - who knows. I have like a deadline for an essay next Friday, so I’m multitasking with writing that as well, but lately I’ve come back to writing TBBW every time I get frustrated with the essay and give up. Which is often.

Anyways, here’s the sneak peak. Don’t let the crack fool you though: chapter 12 is going to be one emotional rollercoaster.

[evil laughter echoes into the void]

Sneak peak for Chapter 12:

Klaus opened his eyes. Everything looked… different. The colour looked off, too vibrant, too loud, his view so much sharper than to what he was used to. He blinked, two large shapes hovering above him. Thoughts were… murky. Hard to hold onto, slipping out of his fingers like fine grains of sand. The Wolf was also very loud, obnoxiously so, which was probably why it was so hard to concentrate, hard to focus on the figures above him. But Sam kept calling him, and Klaus kept trying, again and again, grunting a complaint to the Wolf that he was being too damn loud.

The Wolf quietened, and suddenly, Klaus could think a little clearer. It was hard but… he was there.

And hovering above him, were two wolves, one bearing a coat of chestnut brown, another much larger, bearing a coat of black.

His father smiled down at him, a wolfish tilt to his lips, like he had done when he was but a small child.

“There you are, little wolf.”

Klaus blinked again, curled up in his ball of fur and tail, more like an owl than a wolf.

Suddenly, Sam bounded closer, more into his sights, mouth open in a grin from ear to ear, tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Nik, Nik! Come on! Get up!” He shoved into Klaus with his own weight, trying to push him to his feet. When Klaus didn’t move, heavier than Sam and larger in size, distantly Klaus heard a muffled, “Lazy ass.” uttered as if under Sam’s breath. Or at least, he would have, if the hybrid could speak aloud.

Were these thoughts he were hearing? Or speech? Klaus wasn’t sure. His head hurt.

“Dad.” Klaus heard Sam whine. He ignored him, curiously looking around. There were other wolves surrounding them, some heads tilted in equal curiosity, observing him; others with their heads lowered, slightly wary, even submissive. Was he different from them somehow?

He sniffed the air on instinct, wet black snout twitching, trying to catch their scent.

All he could smell was blood.

Something was nagging at him that that was important. The wolf huffed, dismissing it with an uncaring paw.

“Patience, Samuel. He’s still coming to.” He heard his father say, too enthralled with the sight of the wolves around them to turn his head back around towards Lycaon and Sam.

“His eyes. Open.”

“Yes, his eyes are open. But he’s not here, like you and I. Not completely.”

“So. He lazy. Very lazy.”

There was a deep, suffering sigh in response. Followed by: “I’m getting too old for this.”

Klaus turned his head, just in time to see Lycaon stepping towards him, lowering his head closer to his son’s level. 

“Right, little wolf, time to test those legs.” His father said, licking his son’s ears as he spoke, greeting him with a reassuring chuff, smoothing down some of the frazzled post-shift fur. Klaus let him, preoccupied by his puzzled thoughts.

Why did he need to test his legs?

Were they broken?

They didn’t look broken. They looked furry. He tilted his head as he stared at them, kicked his back legs out to observe. Were they always furry? He couldn’t remember. They did look a little weird. But all the other wolves had back legs… similar back legs. Different fur though.

…Perhaps he hadn’t used them before?

Wait.

WHAT IF THEY DIDN’T WORK?

WHAT WOULD HE DO THEN?

No, no, they did work, he’d just moved them. He kicked his back legs again to make sure. Patted the ground with his front paws. Yes, they were working. Klaus frowned. He still hadn’t worked out why he needed to test them. 

He looked up, feeling eyes on him.

Sam was looking at him strangely, head canted to the side.

“You’re weird.” He said.

“Samuel, don’t call your brother weird.” Lycaon reprimanded, pausing momentarily in his attempt to smooth down a stubborn piece of fur along his son’s neck. “He doesn’t have the same control as you. And judging from the amount of time his wolf was bound, and then how long he spent over the last few months suppressing his instincts, it will take a while for him and the wolf to fully sync with each other.”

The younger wolf narrowed his eyes on Klaus. “Weird.” He emphasised, as if concluding something.

Lycaon sighed again.

Klaus wasn’t sure he understood what was going on. His head still hurt.

“Come on, up you get, little wolf.” Lycaon pulled back, ceasing his grooming, looking down at him expectantly. Klaus blinked, before looking at his front paws.

Right… how did one get up?

“Not weird.” Sam declared upon watching Klaus. “Stupid.” He declared instead.

[diana-lama-blog]

I want to talk about Mars, a God i work with, He has an Interesting story and I love Him.

A little about :Mars best boy <3

Mars and Venus, Fresco from Pompeii

According to mythology, Mars is the God of War, the Roman version of Ares, but before the era of syncretism, what was His role?

Surprise, Surprise, He was a God of agriculture that protect the field armed, one of his celebration was at the end of March along with other Gods of agriculture.

His sacrifice was the last of the holiday, and the name was suovetaurilia, there was sacrificed three animals : a pig, a calf and a lamb and was a sacrifice made for ask protection at him.

The Ovidio's version of the myth about His birth is personally my favorite, it narrate that Iuno was jealous that Jupiter had birth Minerva alone, so She asked Flora the goddess of Gardens for help, She tell Her about a flower that she had, that was able to make Her pregnant without a man.

Mars was the result of that flower touched the belly of the Queen of the pantheon, that made her pregnant.

He was the Father of Romans, because he was the dad of the two Founders of the city of Roma, Romolo e Remo, I found the myth of the foundation of the city very funny and similar to the Christian myth of Cain and Abel.

Romolo and Remo, Grand Place of Bruxelles

Mars fell in love with a girl named Rea Silvia a Vestale Descendant of Enea, who give birth to this two children , but do to his work and the fact that she didn't respect the castite vote, she was killed and their children were abandoned.

A female wolf ( that is an animal sacred at Mars along with peaks) feed the child, Until a shepherd named Faustolo decided to adopt the infants.

When they grow up after they saved the Reign of their grandpa, he given the permission for them to Build a new city.

They asked the Gods where the city would be built and who would be the founder, they both wined, but they argued and Remo died killed by his brother.

My experience with Him.

Mars is an extremely good Guy caring about the pratictioner devoted to him, He is always ready to warn the pratictioner about a disaster, false friendships, or other negative things that can effect their life.

He has a big protective energy.

I personally associate him with :

Popular revolution and the punk subculture

Italy and modern Italian politics

Social Centers

Things He is conventionally associated with :

War

Agriculture

Thunder ( most in His archaic form)

The young people and their education

Masculinity

His favorite offering and things I offered to him:

Weapons ( for example I offered to him a bullet and a knife)

I think He like alcool with a preference for red wine.

I made for Him war water and I offered to him

I offered a lighter with a cute punk cat on it, and I use it for light only His Incenses or His candles

[g-a-y-b-a-c-o-n]

COËN!!!

@g-a-y-b-a-c-o-n considering all Griffins know is up I thought that getting them to actually fly might be a nightmare in and of itself

Not shown is Lambert running around holding one of the babies above his hands, tripping and falling while the baby actually took off and now sails rounds above him

[drtenebres]

who are the most developed/most focused on characters right now??

Thanks for the ask!! It’s hard to say who is the most developed character right now, due to so many brain cells trying to work together, but we’ve all got our own individual ones we’re working on that we feel the strongest about !

@shslstraws :

blah blah blah this is where jude talks about oumota -Snelly (SHAAAAADDUPPPPP -Straws) 

Kaito (My beloved) - A commonfolk who was oblivious by the magic world around him until he inevitably is pushed to it, by living his new life as a Tenebroso werewolf. The cause for how he became a werewolf is unknown, and he tries to keep away from his friends and family to protect them from this “curse”. Kaito gets in a mix of mages and eventually meets with Kokichi, a plague doctor who claims he can cure him. He slowly realizes and comes to face the reality that is Tenebres. 

Kokichi (Most developed??) - A mage who lived in an orphanage until he gets adopted by two mages, Nagito and Hajime. Kokichi dreams of being far powerful than both his dads and going back to recruit the other orphanage kids to his upcoming organization. Until he gets a set back when he takes things too far with the magi academy, he gets demoted to a Plague Doctor; a low status of a mage. It is until he meets Kaito, on one of his duties, and believes if he figures out the mystery behind Tenebrosos, he will earn the right to regain his place back in the academy. 

Shuichi (Most Focused on ATM) - Born from the great Kyoko Kirigiri and Makoto Naegi, there are a lot of expectations put upon Shuichi since he was very young. The expectations were too high and too heavy to carry that Shuichi decided to leave behind that life and the Kirigiri name. He meets up with Rantaro who gives him the ability of a werewolf, and thinks he can finally start anew. Until he faces the same problems with being a werewolf and being part of a pack, Shuichi decides to live amongst the commonfolk with his new friends Kaito, Kaede, and Maki by his side. 

@baylardian-1 :

Kyoko (Most focused on) - A detective who grew up working under a large magefolk entity in the specific branch that deals with magic-based crimes. Kyoko is telepathic with a hindered use of magic due to a strange curse covering both of her hands. Because of her ability to read minds and the overwhelming loudness many voices can create in her head, Kyoko prefers working alone. Eventually she retires from her occupation and becomes a private investigator alongside her husband Makoto.

Hifumi (Most developed) - A hamster familiar most closely resembling a smitten patsy for Celestia Ludenberg. Not having many friends he impulsively chose to follow a pretty girl one day and has never ceased. Initially out of threat, Hifumi would perform healing spells for Celestia after her hunts in addition to take care of her every beck and call. Nowadays their relationship takes on a more unspoken respect and fondness for one another.

Mukuro (My beloved) - A Tenebroso werewolf nearing closer to being 400 years old in age. Born a mage alongside her younger twin sister Junko, many events surrounding their past are shrouded in mystery. As a Tenebroso she has an unnaturally extended life. Mukuro is naturally covered in scars and physically looks to be reaching her mid 50's-early 60's. She is most often however seen to be disguising herself as a young girl.

@snellymain :

Kiyo (Most developed) - A socially reclusive vampire with a guilty conscience and a sworn duty to feed by killing swiftly rather than turning anyone else into a vampire; since he hates his vampirism and his sister that cursed him with it. Has a huge fondness for humans and anthropology after his controlling sister's hatred for them caused him to have extremely limited interactions with them. Ends up committed to a mage named Angie while the unwanted spirit of his sister began haunting him after many years of being dead.

Mahiru (Most focused on) - A standard mage with very little powers and a high respect for her non-mage mother, matching her disdain for her mage father. She got into photography as she had no attachment to her underwhelming magic, until her mother urged her to go to an academy so she wouldn't let her powers go to waste like her father did. After doing so, being out in the world more, she met Hiyoko and Hiro; in which she happily adopted the former and angrily married the latter.

Angie (My beloved) - A healing-based blood mage raised communally on an island, she heals others wounds with their own blood and often secretly takes their blood for her own use while doing so; mostly to feed her partner Kiyo, but she also has a fascination for blood of her own, initially being a result of her village's blood sacrifices and now a result of her blood magic. Generally a loud nuisance, though a medically helpful nuisance, in her academy.

@samsquatchem :

Doodle + blurb done by Snelly ♥

Yasuhiro (Their beloved) - A nomadic powerful mage with a wide variety of powers, mostly focusing on clairvoyance and near-limitless telekinesis; generally wanders around getting money wherever he can but spending it horrendously, ending up in a constant flat circle of time. He’s basically homeless; not out of poverty but what he considers convenience and tax evasion, for the most part and bums around Mahiru’s place. Close friends and a father figure to Hiyoko, (much to Mahiru’s initial dismay) the two bond over their shared tendency to wander and be in a new place every week + magic that neither know how to use properly, she became quickly attached to him due to him being the first person to talk to her after she ran away from home. Hiro is able to see the future but unable to speak it verbatim or else the opposite outcome will come to fruition, he can only nudge clients in the right direction of his visions. Most people think his magic is a scam and he’s the most useless mage ever.

@sutexii :

Chiaki (My Beloved) - A wooden mask enchanted with a human soul, powered by dream juice and magic robotics. Created by Chihiro to live in the dream realm (where u go when u sleep + also where the killing games take place) to gather data on it for Chihiro’s research, and help those in it travel safely. Has a deep fascination with the unpredictable and strange, and enjoys seeking out new knowledge wherever she can. Still likes her games, and while originally given access to some to help entertain those she’s traveling with, she just ends up hoarding them herself.

Tenko (Most Focused On ATM) - Commonfolk w/ a smidge of monster that comes out when her anger peaks. Abandoned due to said anger issues as a child, and taken in by Aoi and Sakura. She had a very Ghibli idyllic childhood, having adventures with friends and delivering donuts for her mom. Learned martial arts from her mom, taking a particular liking to Aikido, and through it learned to control her anger. Follows childhood crush Himiko around to protect her, leading to her entering the less than legal artifact smuggling trade with her later in life.

Aoi (Most Developed) - Water elemental with a love for baking donuts and raising/rehabilitating carp. Married to Sakura, having met when she wandered into the pond in her family’s abandoned dojo and decided to stay to fix it up, motivating Sakura to fix the rest of the place up in turn. Very carefree, friendly, and laid back, loves kids and taking on the “fun auntie” role. Never worked on her humanoid appearance much at all until motherhood, Tenko enters their life and it became hard to hold back a feral monster baby with fins.

@Soupcifer_ :

Nekomaru (Franken-maru) (most developed) - A reanimated corpse who was brought back to life thanks to the help of Kazuichi and Mikan. Unfortunately, he has amnesia and thus no recollection of his past friendships and family. He's a lot more quiet and mellow in comparison to his old self which makes him seem pretty dull, but in actuality he's being rather attentive and simply trying to understand everything that's happening. He does a lot of behind-the-scenes work when no ones looking like cleaning up after Kazuichi and setting reminders for Akane (still a team manager at heart).

Gonta (My beloved) - A vampire raised by werewolves. He only recently came to terms with being a vampire as he lived most of his life assuming the form of a wolf. He has an obsession with bugs, classic literature, and vintage clothing. Gonta likes to follow around a few of his friends, Angie and Korekyio (wink), and be of assistance whenever he can. He unfortunately has trouble dealing with his vampire nature sometimes due to only having lived with werewolves, so he often turns to Korekiyo for help.

Chihiro (most focused on) - An electric elemental! Chihiro is the creator/parent of Chiaki and Monomi. They have a passion for creating things that run on electricity and magic and as a result created their two lovely daughters (that and to investigate the dream realm). Chihiro also has the ability to possess electronics and machinery! Despite being incredibly small, they can emit a surprisingly large amount of energy which makes possessing large or complicated machinery an easy task.

[eusuntgratie]

6x20 The Wolves of War

cut for spoilers bc i’m emotional

so the last one kind of just...ended? i’m a little confused but okay let’s do this

immediately irritated that stiles isn’t in the first three seconds

wow that’s some rough greenscreen work but okay

pls don’t introduce new characters in the actual last episode. literally, why?

this scott/chris moment making me emotional. SIL vibes. I’M FINE.

YES MY LOVES SHOWING UP TOGETHER (bc they fucked in roscoe on the way there a few times for luck)

OOF badass derek doesn’t get old either. DAMN.

GOD this scott/derek moment making me emotional too. GOD the wasted opportunities on this show AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

how does his mouth do that to me even out of focus? it’s rude.

they are so MARRIED. omg. peak married sterek moment. mArRiEd!!!

babies. BABIES. I LOVE THEM I GOT TOO ATTACHED.

MAMA MCCALL I LOVE YOU

“seems to be an area of unfortunate overlap” I LOVE HIM 😍😍

god peter is such a dramatic bitch. peak dramatic bitch energy. well fuck.

jackson is so prettyyyyyyy. “you’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” apparently i love a dramatic bitch 🤣

YESSIR

derek says two words and i’m panting. i have a whole ass problem.

okay i actually hate stiles being weird/possessive/break-it-up about jackson UGH

CAN SOMEONE PLEASE TELL THEM THAT BI PEOPLE EXIST? IT’S LIKE NO ONE TOLD THEM. SOMEONE SHOULD TELL THEM.

okay okay i see why people ship them now theo’s saved baby wolf like 6 times at this point

GOD i have to keep pausing to process SO MUCH IS HAPPENING

angry malia gives me life

PROTECTIVE DAD DEREK AHHHHHHHHHH WHY COULDN’T WE HAVE THIS I’M SO UPSET

i’m not dying for you/i’m not dying for you either (maybe you should just make out a little and see what happens, boys)

i need to write a million protective dad derek fics. right the fuck now.

CLOSE YOUR EYES BABY

BADASS PAPA YESSSSSSSSSSSS. “you refer to me by my proper title” okay sirrrrrrr oof 🥵🥵🥵

well this isn’t going well

OKAY WOW they’re just throwing everybody in here okay

are you this dumb, baby? okay wow i guess you are. that’s fun. god i love a himbo.

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS OMG OMG OMG OMG YESSSSSSSSSSSSS WOW i have a visceral reaction to that voice good LORD i thought i was panting for derek’s voice but VOID?!?!? I’M MF DECEASED

oh shit oh fuck

um wow okay i wasn’t ready for that. a blindfold wouldve maybe worked but okay

YES MY BABY SPARRRRRRRRK

okay, coach!

YES THEO AHHHHHHHH 😭

okay then that works i’m good with that

well this is a little awkward

ooh the camaro and the jeep pulling up together giving me FEELINGS

THAT WINK EXCSUE ME IM DEAD

my friends, my pack I’M FINE 😭😭😭

okay but mason and corey are pack too they should’ve been in that shot

AHHHHHHHH MANY FEELINGS TOO MANY FEELINGS

[bluewritesao3]

Guilt or a shitty job?

Summary: You join the mandalorian on a vaguely described job to the back water planet of Vispoc, that holds far more than originally anticipated leading to a very much needed history lesson and some emotion

Warnings: I think this gets angsty towards the end (I’ve never written angst before so bare with me pls) . talk of consumption of fogs, Talk of canon events like order 66 and the empire. Talk of Jedi stuff. 

Taglist: Let me know if you wanna get tagged. Send me and ask or DM

Word Count: 3.5k (this was meant to be a dabble)

Masterlist | Cross Posted on A03

Gif credit: @johnboyuga​

Kneeling on the floor of the Crest, you meditated in the quiet of the ship with the less then talkative Mandalorian hidden away in the cockpit and the miniature Grand Master Yoda safely tucked away in his hammock. The quiet offered you the peace you needed to gain a greater control over your thoughts and emotions. “Peace. Serenity, Harmony. We must master ourselves before we can hope to master the force.” You muttered your last masters teaching to yourself with closed eyes basing in the steady silence. 

As the ship jolted and rocked beneath your knees, you centred yourself more ignoring the shifting metal biting into your knees. When you’d found the right peace and began to slip into a trance, the heavy thunking of boots echoed through the ship throwing you out of your almost trance-like meditation. “How far out are we?” You asked still knelt on the floor with your back still turned to the shiny Mandalorian.

He passed by almost too quietly, looking less shiny in the artificial lighting of the ship, you heard the quiet noise of the baby���s little sleeping compartment opening. “A hour at least,” He said distorted by his helmet as  as he ducked down into that you originally assumed was the Mandalorian’s sleeping space and was now the child’s. “We’ll be landing in a few.” 

You sighed and pushed off of the floor, wiping your hands on the course weave of your trousers. Watching the Mandalorian always surprised you that a man covered in impenetrable mental could be so careful with a baby. The Mandalorian carefully fished the child from his little hammock and situated the groggy blue bundle into the crook of his arm. You smiled at the sight, the child had a strong connection to the first and had a tendency to project life events into it, you’d originally assumed that he was doing it intentionally while the Mandalorian was away. The more you asked the child about these events the more he would immediately perk up and begin babbling as if he was glad you asked. “What’s the planet like?” You asked out of simple curiosity because it wasn’t like there were any windows in the hull of the Crest and since taking off you didn’t know any details other than the Mandalorian found work. 

“Find out for yourself,” The Mandalorian muttered, you could see he was far more focused on the child than anything you had to say. “Going to need you for this one anyway,” He added retreating back up into the cockpit with the child in hand, you followed quietly without knowing why the Mandalorian was traveling to the planet of Vispoc but you’d agreed to help the Mandalorian with whatever work he had going it was mainly babysitting but you’d fallen in love with the little green gremlins upon first meeting.

Ascending into the cockpit, the pair of you worked like a well oiled machine so that the Mandalorian was able to take off and flue without any interference with the child. Staring out of the window, you stared at the slowly approaching planet. It looked as if a large part of it was made up of water spotted with green land masses and white spieling clouds obscured quite a bit of the water and land masses. “Looks safe enough. Don’t want repeat of Trask.” You muttered stroking one of the child’s large petal shaped ears. 

The child cooed quietly as he played with his favourite control level knob, slowly turning it in his little clawed hands. Out of the corner of your eye you could see the swirling clouds wind in tighter on themselves like an incoming hurricane. “Slightly observation. Might wanna avoid using the jetpack when we’re planet side.” You warned side-eyeing the stoic lump of beskar casually tilt his helmet and give the planet a brief second look before pushing a few buttons.

“Says it’s water-rich and windswept. Got no major populations or star ports.” The Mandalorian uttered helmet barely picking up on the words as he looked at one of the screens embedded into the ships control panel. “Gonna be a bumpy landing.” He added and you took it as a sign to buckle your seat belt and clung to the child, his little arms raised in excitement when a few alarms began sounding as the Mandalorian began the bumpy decent onto the planets surface.

The closer the Crest go to the planets surface the more you could feel the planets attainment to the force. At first you thought it was the child of the winds you were sensing but it felt older like an ‘accumulation of energy’ as your late master called it when somewhere or someone had a strong connection to the force. “Do you feel that too?” You asked the child and received a delighted squeal as the Crest was battered by the winds and thrown to the left. 

Glancing out of the window at the fast approaching planet, you began bracing for an impact just like the frozen tundra wasteland the new republic had chases you both into. The control panel flashed and alarms beeped in time with your pounding heard as the Mandalorian yanked on the ship’s controls, slapped various buttons and flipped switches with a level of blind accuracy you’d only seen from your fellow Padawan’s during group training or sparing practice.

 As the Crest touched down on the rusted abandoned hanger, a withered painted sign proudly pronounced the planet’s name, Vispoc, while another clearly announced that the planet had some affiliation with the republic before the Empire came to power. You breathed a sigh of relief and drew in the clam the sense of peace you’d tried meditating on hours ago. “You good?” The Mandalorian asked sounding a little breathless and gently smoothed down the child's wispy white hairs, who’d seemingly enjoyed himself, maybe it was the sudden flashed of the escape pod that had put you on edge or maybe it was something entirely different. “Looks abandoned.” The Mandalorian observed taking in the dilapidated hander and strips of torn fabric hanging off of stacked cargo boxes. 

You nodded shakily and began unbuckling yourself with the wild settled on your shoulder in preparation of you having to single handedly climb down the ladder into the cock-pit.  “I’ll feed him then we can go. Okay.” You told to the mandalorian and leaving him to do whatever was needed in the cock-pit before the three of you ventured out into the cold of the planet. As you began your decent into the hull of the ship the child began to gargle a little at the mention of being fed. “Stars you’re a hungry thing aren’t you.” You commented as your feet touched the grated metal in the full. 

Settling the child on top of the largest cargo crate as you set about mashing up one of the ration bars and rehydrating it with a little water from a flask. Ration bars and recycled water was not a good combination and you could attest to it seeing as it was the only part of your diet for at least a year after the purge. While you worked the child babbled and made grabby hand towards the small tin rectangle you held in your hands even though he was sending images of a particular frog with blue and black stripes he’d probably seen before you arrived through his connection in the force. “Sorry bud. We don’t have any blue and black striped frogs or any amphibians at all.” You joked and offered him a spoon of mushed up, rehydrated ration bar, he took the first spoonful without an issue but after the second and third you think he’d began to realise that it wasn’t a froggy mush. 

He quietly grumbled aloud to himself in his own baby garble and frowned as a new spoon of ration bar mush was presented to him. “Listen, maybe I can convince your Dad you get some froggy pets.” You promised as you tried to sooth him by motioning towards where the Mandalorian was still hauled up doing post flight checks. “Then you can hunt ‘em yourself.” You added hopefully appearing the small grumpy child and offered the spoon again. 

As if he’d actually considered it the child made a noise of agreement and began wolfing down every spoon of ration bar mush fed to him. “Y/N, you really shouldn’t promise him such things.” The mandalorian’s modulated voice came out of nowhere in true Mandalorian fashion causing the baby to immediately perk up as if he’d been given a stim-canister. “I have too many pets as it is.” The Mandalorian added as he pulled open the locked metal cupboard where he kept all his weaponry and began to load himself up as the Crest’s ram opened up with a mechanical whirling. 

Depositing the child into his little cloth bag, “This looks questionable at best.” You muttered taking in the silvers of landscape revealed to you by the slow opening of the Crest’s ramp. Standing at the mouth of the ship, you slowly scanned the landscape, the hanger the Mandalorian had parked in seemed derelict from years of abandonment and seemed perfect for a smugglers crew to hide some coveted cargo. Noticing the out-cropping of a large temple-like structure was peaking out from behind the large mountain looming in the foreground. 

“Here,” The Mandalorian said holding out the hilt of your Lightsaber, the cold sunlight glinted off of the dull weathered durasteel illuminating some of the symbols carved int other space between the emitter and the switch. “Might need it.” He nodded to the Lightsaber he’d once referred to a laser sword.

Reaching for the long metal hilt was a lot harder than you originally anticipated. ‘This weapon is your life.’ Your late asters words echoed in your head. Feeling the Mandalorian’s visor trained on you was almost burning its T-shape into your face. With a shaky hand, you firmly grasped the all to familiar leather wrapped hilt of your lightsaber and just held it trying to become comfortable with its weight again. It’d been the same as the one you’d built when you’d been selected as a Padawan and taken part in the gathering on Ilum. You were sure your hesitation was as clear as Vispoc’s oceans. “If my master could see me now. Hesitant. They’d be so disappointed in me.” You explained shakily, your late master never got ashamed or angry when you put a foot wrong or hesitated but they were always disappointed when something sailed or went wrong. As you hooked it onto your repurposed belt and gun holster, the child snorted as if he was getting impatient with all the waiting around.

Descending the ships ramp, the weight of the baby on your left felt like nothing compared to the history of the weapon hanging on your belt rhythmically bouncing as you walked. With the Mandalorian at your side, the both of you approached the village at a slow speed, only stopping when the winds picked up significantly and blew particularly hard. The dark rock bit into the palms of your hands as you shuffled along the mountain trail, hand on the wall searching for something to steady yourself when the winds blew. Farther up the trail the Mandalorian waited quietly but impatient, you could see where the child’d picked it up from, as if the winds didn’t bother him in the slightest and you was convinced that it was all the beskar that was weighing him down. 

With your free hand holding the child’s side bag closer to your body, you had a much clearer view of the temple-like building that was peaking out from behind the mountain. Two large stone pillars flanked a set of double doors. Above the doors harsh winds swirled around one another like a brewing hurricane, in front of it was a raised dais with set stair leading down to what you assumed was the ground. Feeling the force trying to pull you in the direction of the temple, you brought up your shield again forcing the pull to detach itself from your being. “That part of me is too scared to even think about going there. Just yet.” You muttered into the wind and gently patted your Lightsaber as if you was trying to reassure yourself that you’d have to work up the courage to visit a temple again before became part of the living force. 

Once on the move again the unlikely pair came to the mouth of a mountain-side village. A small handful of the homes seemed to be build from cylindrical walls and topped with dome roofs, the whole place felt restless with the scrapes of brightly painted fabric banners whipped around in the significantly more gentle wind. Other homes were built in close quarters with one another jutting out slightly from the sides of the mountain, they followed the natural lines of the paths and the mountain faces. “What or who are we looking for, Mandalorian? ‘Cause this place looks abandoned.” You asked glancing around the village and grimaced when you caught sight of the warning on the wall signed with a blood red imperial symbol. 

The mandalorian sighed deeply as if he knew the whole trip was a bust. “He said it was in the village. Maybe there’s multiple villages.” He cursed clearly frustrated as you allowed yourself to slump down onto an outcrop of stone that seemed like a good place to sit.

“I doubt whatever you’re looking for is still here, Mandalorian.” You muttered promptly gesturing to the bright white grimy sighs screwed to the side of one of the cylindrical homes. It clearly stated that the village now belonged to the empire and all the occupants were in evacuate immediately or be arrested. “No doubt all the villages are under Imperial hold regardless of size.” You added  gently offering the baby some of the jerky you kept in one of the bouches tied to your bed. 

“Come one we’ll try the next on.” Was all the Mandalorian said before speedily continuing down the trail. 

Watching the Mandalorian’s gate, You could see the that everything was beginning to weigh on him because it was much long ago that he’d found out he was raised by religious zealots and you’d honestly contemplated leaving there and then given the Jedi’s history with that particular groups of Mandalorian’s. Even if you’d spent almost 3 decades in hiding the teachings of your late master wouldn’t relent, emotions only clouded one’s judgement. 

Hours down the line, you and the Mandalorian had traded off the task of carrying the child. The mandalorian now had the child’s side bag slung safely across his body with the child filling the safe space between both you and him. 

The pair had visited multiple villages across the planet, even come across a largely developed town that yielded little to no information about whatever if was the Mandalorian was looking for. You suspected that whatever he’d been tasked the retrieve was inside of the temple-like building you’d seen when visiting the first village. The force connection was only growing stronger and carried whispers with them, they gently scabbed the very edges of the shield you had built after feeling it at its strongest for the first time. The child clearly wasn’t as effected as you were, maybe it was because he hadn’t had as much training, you weren’t sure but it worried you given that the child was 50 and just about had a grasp on lifting things.

Sitting in the cantina listening to the quiet chatter and howling winds, you carefully fed the baby spoonful after spoonful of bone broth. Subtly trying to watch the Mandalorian out of you peripheral you watched him fidget and continuously open and close his fist almost like he was waiting for someone, antsy was the word your brain suppled you with. “What exactly is it we’re looking for?” You asked gently wiping away any spilt broth from the child’s face. Waiting patiently, you took a sip of the water from the cup in front of you and watched the Mandalorian silt his helmet as if he was contemplating telling you what exactly they were doing on this windy hellhole. “You said you’d might need me. That implies that it’s something Jedi related.” You surmised slowly piecing together the small fragments of information you’d collected on the journey from one village to the next. 

“It’s Jedi. I just don’t know where to look.” The Mandalorian huffed laying his hand flat on the table. “I’m open to suggestion,” He added allowing his shoulders to drop a little like he was relieved to share the job with you. “The Jedi are a mystery at most. Why doesn’t anyone know anything?” He asked sounding completely lost and a small part of you was itching to teach someone about the ways of the Jedi but the much larger part of you that was acting purely on instinct screamed that revealing such information would only get more killed. 

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slowly began drawing circles on the table avoiding the black t-visor staring straight at you unrelenting. “Because we’ve been wiped from history,” You began to explain hearing the child whine a little but you pushed on. “Our temples had fallen into disrepair or burned to the ground. The Empire sentenced us to death and denied a trial.” You explained farther remembering all the time you’d spent running and begging for your life, all those you’d cut through just to survive to see the next sun rise. 

Without seeing the Mandalorian’s face, you couldn’t tell what expression he held, sometimes you were envious of the emotionlessness the armour offered him but he sat silently and listened as you rambled. Casting a quick glance around the cantina because anyone worth their information knew that cantina walls had ears. Always. “As the Republic fell the Empire rose and wiped us away with it. Anyone that’s still left knows better than the out themselves.” Memories of the great purge flashed across your memory, the stand-off between your late master and the commander and the clones chasing you across the length of the republican cruiser. It’d be enough to put any 12 year old into hiding and to never some out again. “Our relics became decoration and prices to be won. Our Lightsaber’s were another’s trophy.” You babbled nervously as you ignored the small green hand of the child clinging to your sleeve or the forced wave of calm being pushed onto you by the child. 

The Mandalorian tilted his head noting that he was listening and absorbing all the information you were providing him with, the way he stared at you when you finished simply said ‘but why?’ and in all honesty you couldn’t give him an answer. “The thing I’m being paid to find. Theres a possibility that it’s Jedi.” He explained and you’d never felt such a strong urge to fling someone across the cantina and through your blooming anger, you nodded in understanding that the Mandalorian needed to make money some how and if it wasn’t chasing bail jumpers or debts half ways across the galaxy it had to be something Jedi related. Maybe this was the biggest fuck you to the Jedi from the Mandalorian’s. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have taken the job.” He added guilt dripping from the words even if they were mechanical. 

“Is that why you gave me my saber back,” You began planting elbows on the table quietly seething with something akin to anger. “Out of guilt for taking the job?” You questioned staring directly into the black abyss of the Mandalorian’s t-visor.  “Be clear with me Mandalorian. Was it guilt.” You demanded anger flaring a little, knowing full well that the Mandalorian had been adamant on him keeping your Lightsaber locked up out of harms way or at least till he trusted you to carry it and keep it out of the kids reach. 

“We should go.” was all the Mandalorian said as he rose from his seat, took the child and excited the cantina to go back out into the drab wind-swept landscape leaving you sitting alone at the table looking for the peace you’d been able to find before landing. 

Gingerly resting a hand on the hilt off your Lightsaber and glanced around wondering if anyone had noticed it on your person. “Memories of an old friend.” You whispered dropping the shield and walking out of the cantina, the Mandalorian stood of to the side holding hands with the smaller version Grand Master Yoda. The pull of the force called to you in a way that you’d never experienced since the gathering on Ilum and being on the surface of coruscant. “If we’re going to a temple. Stay close and ignore the whispers.” You warned and set of in the direction of the temple wishing the spirits there were at least laid the rest and not running rampant through the temple. 

[werekxnglives]

Kenta thought that with Stephen’s heat passed and things were back normal, outside of him now having a room within the family home, things were finally calming down. Though that never lasts long because as he just came into the locker room that was set up for the employees, he caught a familiar scent. “Stephen what the-”

“I don’t know...my heat was last month-it’s not the full moon yet!” There was pure panic in his tone as the wolf-fox hybrid came over to him. “Kenta this never-this isn’t normal is it?!” “Well for one, you need to take a deep breath and exhale slowly.” The redhead replied as he helped the elf. Which was testing his own patience because his neglected wolf was ready to pounce on the other. Once though he got the other to calm down, he spoke as he reined in his own urges. “It’s not, but you’re body has been on suppressants since you were about ten to eleven, right? And with you being connected more to the tides and seas, you’re heat is bound to follow the waning and waxing of the moon.” 

Stephen of course nodded along, it made sense. While the forest is and will always be home, he felt just as close to the tides themselves. “There is a Lunar Eclipse coming, Steph. May 15-16, next weekend. So I’m afraid that your heat is going to get stronger and this is going to be even more dangerous than just a normal heat.”

“How in the Bloody Nine Hells is this worse?!” Stephen snapped as his accent became far clearer. “You told me that last time was dangerous after I snapped out of my heat. How is this worse, Kenta?!”

Don’t snap, don’t snap. He is scared and doesn’t mean to be angry. Kenta reminded himself. And he can’t blame Stephen, plus the other was still shocked that he was an omega; so to his credit, the elf was reacting better than he thought he would. 

“Stephen, breathe...The reason I said that is because you’re going to be far easier to get pregnant. You’re scent is already at its peak like how it was during your heat.” Thank Hades that the locker room was basically empty except for them and he had put on a sound barrier, on top of an illusion. Very draining indeed. “You felt a pull to the lake didn’t you? Or to the closest beach?” He asked as Stephen paled. 

He was... “Anywhere I can hide for the next two weeks?” He asked as Kenta just gave him a look. “I’m not putting you lot through-”

“Get your elven ass into that Jeep while I tell Dad what is going on. We’re going home.” Unlike Neville, Kenta had a few more tricks up his sleeve. “Better ask Aisha if he would mind making me the tea to help keep my energy up.”

[eightysixed]

happier than ever

You call me again, drunk in your Benz Drivin' home under the influence You scared me to death, but I'm wastin' my breath 'Cause you only listen to your fuckin' friends I don't relate to you I don't relate to you, no 'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty You made me hate this city

words: 3.2k plot: emma and tomo’s relationship, in a nutshell. trigger warnings: abuse, assault, drugs, cheating, violence, blood, suicidal ideation, nsfw

Five years is a lifetime when you’ve just begun your twenties. It’s half a decade of years so formative and important that you don’t really realize their importance until they have flown past.

Emma spent those years with Tomo.

[ SEPTEMBER 2014 ]

A twenty-one year old goes to an Outkast concert. She gets propositioned by a guy. Rough, pushy, handsy, it’s enough to make her feel suffocated, plan paths of escape or desperately look for a face in the crowd that could intervene. Then he comes in with his buddies and they all but rescue her. How ironic Emma thinks, years later. What a Disney-ified, damsel in distress moment to have and to meet by.

They spend the rest of the concert together, follow it up with an after hours at Los Coyotes, wolfing down soft shells in between food-spitting laughter. Emma, Tomo, and his two buddies. The energy is infectious, and she doesn’t want to say goodbye at the end of the night. It’s a feeling she has never felt before; those sparks in his eyes that are in hers too, the way he grounds and floors her. They exchange numbers and Emma’s face lights up as she’s getting off her Muni owl: it’s a text from him.

It doesn’t take long for his contact name to acquire an Emoji heart next to it, the girl who ridiculed these kinds of things in high school now finding herself enamoured, head-over-heels, and not caring for the criticisms of formerly cynical self.

[ OCTOBER ] A month later and she’s packed up and moved into his place, about as happy as she has ever been of late; everything in life falls into place with him, just makes sense.

[ NOVEMBER ] He gets エマ tattooed on his collarbone; her name in katakana. She gets 23, his lucky number.

They spend thanksgiving with her mom in Cupertino. Frankie hasn’t seen Emma this animated again in a long time, composes a poem about in her head as the green beans and pumpkin pie are passed around. Later of course, she pulls out the baby photos, much to Emma’s embarrassment and Tomo’s delight. “You were such a fat baby, Jesus,”  Tomo laughs. “She looks like she ate baby Jesus,” her mother quips.

When her mom falls asleep, they sneak out and climb up Emma’s childhood treehouse armed with blankets. They gaze at a sliver of night sky through a gap in the roof as Emma tells him her childhood dreams of flying to space and inventing computers that could contact extraterrestrial life. They kiss, they make love, Emma ponders her stance on marriage being outdated and for chumps and losers next to a snoring Tomo.

[ FEBRUARY 2015 ] Their first Valentine’s day together they drop acid at Pier 39. An irate parent yells at them for making out on the merry-go-round in view of children; have they no shame.

She makes new friends, dozens, someone always at their place as Tomo plays them new tracks, smoke weed together, and watch the oil projector light show make shapes on the ceiling. They talk about the future, fame, and world domination.

They don’t discuss babies because neither of them care for that sort of shit — but they do talk about moving into a bigger place together, maybe getting a dog or two — the breed is subject of many arguments.

[ MARCH ] In peak puppy fever, Emma adopts a two year old rescue bulldog named Tito. It’s the first, tiny sign of a crack in their relationship, of dissent — she thinks she sees Tomo glare at the precious pup when he thinks she isn’t looking. But maybe she imagined it. He does shed and slobber uncontrollably after all, and her boyfriend happens to be a clean freak.

[ JULY ] That summer, Emma braves a plane once more to see Tomo play in Atlanta. His set is off the walls and for the first time, she is amazed to see just how many fans he has, how far this boyfriend of hers has come from making tracks in his living room. It’s just too bad she is fast asleep when he tiptoes out of their hotel room to meet one of said fans for a back-alley blowjob.

They roadtrip across the South to play some more venues and the pattern repeats itself in Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico. She wakes up in a cold sweat one night in Vegas, confused as to why he’s gone. “Out getting food. Got hungry.” The message hits her in a weird place, but she is tired, sleepy, and in a haze; Emma accepts, does not question. He even returns with some Taco Bell for her.

Timeskip — 3 years:

[ APRIL 2018 ]

Emma is on her hands and knees in a bathroom, vomit dripping off the toilet rim. She can’t remember how or why she got here, but she’s here. Everything seems to be swimming backwards. Eventually she is able to collect herself off the floor, splash water against her face and wall-to-wall stagger back out of the bathroom. It didn’t work, she’s purged the worst of it but still feeling funny. “Oh, Emma, there you are.” A man’s hands wrap around her. He says he’s friends with Tomo. Says he’ll take her to him. Fade to black.

Waking up with strange bruises should not become a norm, but it does. Emma dismisses it, goes to work, does her best.

Things with Tomo are a violent rollercoaster; some days are great, some days nondescript; and some days downright nightmarish. They fight, throw shit, break shit, yell at each other. Things almost border on the unacceptable as words turn into threats, threats turn to action. A hand around the throat; a body pinned to the wall — her body, of course. His weed grinder he threw that hit her in the head which he swore he’d meant to only toss at the wall. It never crosses a line into the unacceptable, though. That’s what Emma tells herself. He might push her down on the bed, sure, but a bed was soft. He might squeeze her throat in the heat of an argument, but never so much that she’s passing out. He doesn’t hit, kick, or punch her. That was what abusers did, not him. 

She tells herself he can’t help it, his mother used to punish him and his father didn’t love him and now he lashes out the only way he knows how, on the only person he can. He didn’t grown up in as loving a home like she did. He had his reasons. It was okay. They were okay. And the makeup sex afterwards? The best ever.

[ MAY 2018 ]  A month later and Emma is walking in on some girl riding Tomo’s dick like the world was ending, right there on their couch. On their goddamn couch they picked out together, hauled up the stairs with the delivery men. Somehow, the worst part about it all, Emma’s fucked up brain tells her, is that Tito is there to witness it. Her innocent, furry son, witnessing his ‘dad’ for all intents and purposes, cheating on his mom. A ridiculously thought but one she has nonetheless as she’s driving away, Tito next to her in the passenger seat. She goes to sleep at a friend’s and sobs the entire night.

Despite herself, she doesn’t break up with him; but the rift is a mile wide and constantly palpable. Tomo becomes relentlessly apologetic. Not only does he beg forgiveness, he does it live on-air at a radio station, on social media, Emma bombarded by strangers she doesn’t know writing her to take him back. Then he goes and uses her personal kryptonite pulls a Lloyd Dobler outside her work with a Cocorosie song she was absolutely weak for. She hates making a public scene but the sentimental part of her is melting at the gesture, the boombox, all of it. Emma stays. He’d been a shitbag, but he was her shitbag, with all his lovable and terrible qualities wrapped into one person, and she just had to take the shit with the good. Because there was no one else she’d rather be with, ripping side-stitches from too much laughter at four in the morning, tears in her eyes for a good reason this time, from one of his horrifying jokes. 

He was hers and she was his, that’s just how it was to be. Well, as much as she could call him hers when he seemed to be everybody else’s in the process.

Emma does ridiculous, degrading, uncomfortable things in the name of love, and yet in the end she can’t hold on to the love she had for him in the beginning. Way back when they were going up on that ferris wheel at the pier and he looked at her like he had nothing but love in this world, for her. That was what hurt the most, because now the ferris wheel only went down.

There are threesomes, fivesomes, sixsomes, so many bodies in between hers and the one she loves, all in the name of exciting him, holding onto him, trying to be something for him that measured up to Enough. But none of it is enough. None of it makes him happy, nor did it make her happy. She gives him an inch and he takes a mile and then demands more, smiling with blood in his mouth.  She breaks down and becomes something she doesn’t recognize in the mirror. Whether it was an act of revenge or desperation, or finally wanting to give him a taste of his own medicine, Emma sleeps with Corey, one of his best friends. She takes pictures, sends them to him “by accident”. She hates herself through it all, every moment of it, mostly for what he made her into. And yet, underneath all the layers of attempts at hurting him she was really just crawling on all fours, begging him to love her again, need her and want he the way he did in the beginning. Craving to get that first hit back, the one she had been on a residue high off of for four years, the one that now tasted metallic and rancid in her throat.

The worst part? Tomo doesn’t care. He texts her back, telling her to have fun, to send more pictures. She’s never felt this hollow, this empty, this non-entity of a being. The day of her high school graduation flashes in her mind, her dad telling her to never lose her identity, the core of what made her, her. Emma took that core and probably threw it into the Pacific. Somewher between Japan and California, it lies at the bottom of the ocean. 

[ APRIL 2019 ]

Turns out, Emma could draw a line, and that line was becoming accessory to a drug deal. She knew Tomo sold on the side to make up for all the money going into the records, but it had always been a few pills here and there, nothing big. But this? Fentanyl, Xanax, bricks of coke and hash? It was a lot. It was too much.

He sells the drugs and her to go with it, and that’s the end right there. The package she delivers to the apartment he asks her to deliver it to turns into a hostage situation, and she leaves hours later, bruises and caked blood on her. She can’t go home, doesn’t want to. She wants to jump off the bridge she’s crossing from Oakland back to the city. Any bridge, any of them would do. She understands why people jump from the Golden Gate now, or maybe always had. She was there now, climbing the railings, she was ready. She wanted that plunge so badly, would be sad to leave one parent, but good to be reunited with the other. Maybe there she’d be happy, maybe there she’d find peace. 

She calls Ben that night. She’s dry eyed and unemotional, but as soon as she gets the right words, verbalizes her situation, she’s sobbing again. Tomo is out of the city, across the country in Philly on tour. Now was the time, if there was any time for it. She’s not even done with the call when Ben is getting in his car to drive to her. It’s 6 hours from Ojai to San Francisco; he tells her he’ll be there in five. She never deserved a friend like him and never would, Emma thinks as she packs, hastily because somehow Tomo walking through the front door as a ���surprise’ wouldn’t be out of the question. In the end, she can’t pack everything, has to leave so much behind, her records, books, knickknacks. Five years in this apartment and she’s leaving all of it behind, making a getaway in the middle of the night like some kind of burglar.

By three in the morning he’s here, and they get to packing her suitcases in the car, stacking them as best as they fit in his trunk and backseat, all of Tito’s things and then Tito on a bed in the seat in the back. Emma is in busy mode, stacking and packing everything as fast she can, still somewhere in the back of her mind thinking Tomo would appear at the last minute, and how with Ben here, things could get ugly. She doesn’t want them to get ugly. She loved him far too much to see him have to deal with Tomo, the only person in that specific firing line should be her and no one else.

They drive off. She only feels herself unclench an hour out of Daly City, somewhere in between the Bay and Southern California, where she can exhale. She’s still looking behind them constantly, wondering if every passing car could somehow be him. The saddest, most desperate part of all this that a part of her wants him to have followed. One last ditch attempt to get her back. An all out attempt, one where he would get on both knees and apologize, swear to never be this way again and follow through with it, because he was her person, he was her only person, there was nobody else in this world for her but him, but what do you do when you had to run from your person in the dead of night?

She pulls her raincoat tighter when they stop to get gas, a cold and windy middle of nowhere gas station. She’s not sure how she ends up embracing him, but they’re in it, and feeling someone’s arms around her, somebody that actually cares, who’d never hurt her, who was family, was her mom and his sister and everybody she loved rolled into one, feels like a reprieve. She feels like dirt for making him do this, making him worry, Emma was a piece of shit for that.

She says as much. He tells her to shut up, that she’s nothing like that and this was nothing that he wouldn’t have done for her on any night, any time at all. And maybe that, that was the night she fell in love with him a little bit, or realized she had always been, all along, but God likes to play Lucifer’s games with the little lives he watches over, and it wasn’t made to be, too late anyway since she’d left her heart in somebody else’s hands where it would stay. And he doesn’t need a mess like her anyway, just thinking of the name Catarina was enough. It had been five years but she still remembered the day like yesterday. How low he had been back then. How they would get high together and feel miserable together because at least they had that. They had Weetzie too, but she hadn’t experienced loss like they had, she sympathized but she’d never know what this particular slice of hell was like. But Ben and Emma knew. She knew it in that part of her ribs that met his, and she did not know what she would do if she didn’t have that, have Ben Abrams in her life. 

[ MARCH 2021 ]

Fast forward two years, and the ex is in town. Here, in Los Angeles. That very ex you worked so hard to forget, to heal from, to act like he wasn’t there. And yet, reminders of him were constantly there, everywhere. She doesn’t tell her friends, doesn’t tell anybody he’s in town, just balks when his so called best friend turns up in her neighborhood. She nearly grabs Tito and runs the other way, but it had been too late for that and they have a forced, awkward catch-up. He’s oblivious to anything happening, had barely known about her and Tomo breaking up. Figures, Emma thought, that he would act like nothing happened at all.

He’s in town, and every day she goes to work dreading something happening. She thinks she sees him outside the tattoo parlor’s window, but it’s someone else entirely. She’s losing it again, losing sleep, falling prey to her nightmares. Has a boyfriend now but even that doesn’t help, if anything, he’s a guilty reminder of just how little progress she had made, because she couldn’t devote the time and attention somebody like that needed in her life. Not when all she could think about was him.

The worst part is that once he’s long gone again, back up north, she’s feeling that hollow feeling again. Feeling upset that he didn’t seek her out, didn’t come see her. Even though she knew what an unmitigated disaster that would’ve been, the horrible, rotten part of her wanted it. Of course it wanted it. Two years and her skin still itched for him like an addict longing to be in the throes of fullblown relapse. But he didn’t track her down, call, or text, and that was that. Her only run-in with him involves a party flyer papered on a wall, his name in big stylized letters as the headlining DJ at the club. She stares at that flyer for a little too long, it burns itself in her eye like she’d looked at the sun for too long. And then she does the worst thing she could probably do, go on instagram. Only to find he has a new girlfriend. A brunette with tattoos who looked fun and flirty and everything she had been all those years ago.

That was the last tip of the scale. She reactivates her Tinder, finds some half okay looking guy, makes plans to meet him that night. It’s terrifying, so terrifying going through with, but she gets sufficiently drunk, then high on top of that, and goes through with it. Thinking of another boy’s name the entire time, his face, his body, hands and all the rest. Twelve hours later she’s leaving his apartment, no longer the nun of two years she’d become and feeling shitty about that on top of everything else. It was probably time to go see Karen again she thinks, smoking a cigarette under the sun that melts her while waiting for her Uber home. Thanks friends, thanks family, I’ve made terrific process with all your help and am now back to square one. Thanks for everything.  

Maybe in a decade’s time. 

Maybe she’d be over it by then.  

[idreamtofthereaper]

Trouble Waiting to Happen.. iii

bigbrother!jaehyun x sibling!reader x loveinterest!jaemin

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘢 𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺. But Jung Jaehyun knows better, and that’s why their group remains superior and unbothered -only you didn’t.

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: reader x nct jaemin

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: angst, fluff

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: mafia theme, gets dark a little later, mentions of kidnapping, deaths, threats, mature theme, cursing/swearing

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧: hi-  I still haven’t moved on from jaehyun’s kick it get up. reach out to me in anyways if you want to be included in the taglist!

M A S T E R L I S T

Taglist: @hiqhkeybby​  @huangxx​

You hurriedly ran down the stairs after hearing multiple people shouting downstairs. When your feet hit the bottom steps of the stairs, you saw how your front door was still wide open and how the maids were cleaning what seems like drops of blood leading to the kitchen.

Since they were preoccupied, they didn’t notice your presence. “IS THAT JAEHYUN’S?!” You shouted, alerting the maids and before they could even stand up, you were already jogging to the kitchen.

In there, you saw Doyoung and Johnny attending your brother was obviously wounded by the blood stain in his shirt. 

“YUTA WHERE’S THE FIRST AID?!”

“I DON’T KNOW THIS IS NOT MY HOUSE.”

“IT’S IN THE COUNTER CABINET IDIOT.” You shouted, alerting the 4 men inside as you rushed to the counter and knelt down, grabbing the first aid and handing it to Yuta who immediately went to Jaehyun.

“Yn, you’re not supposed to be here. Go to your room.” Jaehyun said before his shirt was ripped open, unveiling a pretty gruesome would by his shoulder. As Doyoung and Yuta fumbled at the kit, Johnny was putting pressure on the wound.

“I said go to your room.” Jaehyun said with a wince, his breathing heavy but like early, you only shook your head and made your way to him. “Johnny, get yn to her room. I don’t want her seeing all this.” Johnny nodded, prompting Yuta to hold the cloth as Doyoung was beginning to remove the contents of the first aid.

“What? No, I’m not going.” You said as Johnny grabbed your arms, beginning to push you out the kitchen but you were resisting hard, prompting him to carry you on his shoulder while you continuously yelled and resisted.

Johnny didn’t even struggled or dropped a sweat when he reached your room, closing the door with his other hand and put you down gently to the floor. When you tried rushing out again, Johnny already closed the door and was guarding it. “He’s going to be okay, just chill out okay.”

“He was stabbed!”

“It’s not that deep.”

“OUR FLOOR IS RED BECAUSE OF HIS BLOOD.” You yelled again, feeling more frustrated with the arguing. “Johnny, don’t act like you didn’t teach me how to break someone’s kneecaps.”

Johnny only chuckled at this with a grin on his face. “And don’t assume I don’t know any counters for it.” You let out a tired sigh, putting your forehead on his chest as he rubbed your back comfortingly, assuring you that Jaehyun will be okay.

And he was. Just like everytime he would come home bloodied and wounded. This was not the first time he came home looking like he was mauled by a wolf. Still, it would always affect and worry you deeply. 

You waking up at early hours in the morning, when the sun isn’t even up, because of a loud commotion happening was normal at this point. Jaehyun’s ‘night job’ would usually end at early hours in the morning with results varying from time to time.

The sun was already making an appearance when Jaehyun opened the door to your room, nodding at Johnny who was seated beside it and was leaning at your dresser while you were at your bed on your phone.

“Thanks John.” 

“No problem, rest up.” Jaehyun only nodded as Johnny patted his shoulder, glancing at you who you gave a nod and a wave before he left the room and closed the door behind him.

You examined Jaehyun firs, who now changed into his sweats and a plain shirt. Peaking at his chest and shoulders was a bandage and on his other arm, was multiple bruises and cut on his lip. 

“You look horrible.” You said as you crawled to the edge of your bed, Jaehyun only chuckling before he took a seat at your desk’s chair. 

“You should’ve seen the other guy.”

“Why do you keep doing this?” You said, not really in the mood to joke around and put this one aside like the others. You were getting tired and extremely worried. At this point, a simple tree branch could knock your brother out. 

“Don’t worry too much about me, I’m okay. Look at me, I’m already feeling better.” Jaehyun said, opening his arms open but you didn’t miss how his face winced in pain when his injured shoulder moved.

You only shook your head, putting your face in your hands before brushing your hair back. “Why do you keep doing this? You act like this is what you live of off and that this is where you get your money, you have a company that’s doing well.” You said, voice slightly raising but you really didn’t have the energy to argue this early in the morning. “You don’t have to prove anything, you’re strong enough and you don’t need to be acting all kingpin and scarface and godfather prove that.”

Jaehyun only looked at you sympathetically before letting out a sigh, his eyes travelling down. “Yn, you don’t understand our family-” Jaehyun couldn’t formulate the correct words, pausing for a moment before shaking his head. “-Our family, I didn’t have a choice. Our father, his father, his father and so on, they set this up. We were born as a target.” Jaehyun explained, leaning forward and putting his elbows to his knees while his head was bowed down.

“Just because dad left the business doesn’t mean it would stop. The enemies he made wouldn’t just move on because he did, his partners wouldn’t just stop because he’s done. If anything, father only left us with enemies I don’t even know. I’m sorry you’re getting in between all of this.” Jaehyun said, finally lifting himself up as you only watched sympathetically. “If you want to move in with mom and dad that’s okay, but I don’t trust dad’s security team and I’ll send in Yuta with others or something.”

You chuckled at this, but shook your head. Jaehyun smiled at your response, the room was then filled with silence as you took up his words. Realizing what he said was true, he couldn’t simply leave this ‘family thing’ and expect safety. Your family was known to be shady even before you were born.

You stood up and open your arms, Jaehyun standing up himself and wrapped his arms around you. Your face landing on his chest, moving slightly as to not make any contact with the wound. 

“Peaches, can I request something?”

Jaehyun hummed, waiting for what you’ll say while his arms are still wrapped around you. 

“Let’s spend the day together, like we used to before. Like going to the park or the mall or something, let’s be normal for a day.” He pulled back and you saw he was hesitating and had a disappointing look on his face but before he could even say an answer, you hugged him tightly again. “Pleaseee Peaches, I don’t ask for much. I just really want to spend some time with you more, we could even just watch a movie here.”

“Fine, fine. But I still need to sleep, let’s go out after lunch.”

--

Not everyone had a happy ending that night though, if one could consider Jaehyun’s night a positive one. 

Some may have came out unscathed at 11:56 pm on a Friday night, they are however still considered the night a fail for different reasons even coming out of the same situation. 

1. The deal they were planning didn’t happen because someone double crossed them.

2. A particular someone couldn’t get someone’s number.

Lee Jeno is the biological son of Lee Donghae, a known businessman of a famous insurance company. However, he became notorious when him and multiple people from his board of directors were tied to a series of drug trafficking scheme.

Lee Donghae and his directors were proven innocent days later, but no details of HOW they were proven to be innocent was revealed to the media, the spokesperson stating details and information about the case are sensitive and everything was just a misunderstanding.

The scandal didn’t affect the company. If anything, it only shone more light about its existence and the charming son of its owner, Lee Jeno- who also has his fair share of ‘shady’ headlines every now and then.

It was then revealed a year later of the scandal that Lee Donghae adopted a boy, Na Jaemin. And again, details were not released about his adoption and who this Na Jaemin is. 

For Jeno, Na Jaemin is the guy who is currently hogging up his bed even if he has his one.

After a failed attempt to negotiate terms with the a holding company to create a partnership, both company and ‘private’ wise, Donghae went home with a black eye and a bruised son.

“I told you not to come.”

“You said I could come when I finish my homework.”

Jeno wasn’t surprised when he saw Jaemin in his bed and still awake at almost 12am. After bathing and freshening up, Jeno immediately went under the covers without even as to greet Jaemin.

He was already dozing off when Jaemin let out another groan, tossing the laptop at the edge of the bed and lay down beside Jeno, whose eyes was closed but was still awake. “How did the meeting go?”

“Someone from another group was there unannounced, the one we’re having a deal with thought they were ours and safe to say the deal is off.” Jeno answered without opening his eyes. 

“It would’ve gone well if I was there.”

“Yeah you would, with your Pink hair and all.” Jeno chuckled, opening his eyes but still under his blanket. “What’s up with you?”

“Do you know how to hack into the school system?” 

“You were never worried with your grades, what changed now?” Jeno asked, his full attention now on Jaemin. “What deal did dad struck with you?”

“No it’s not that, I just need to get someone’s number. When I was asking around, no one has her number. They said she doesn’t really give it out and if anyone has it, they’re not saying.” Jaemin said, remembering how he asked almost all his classmates from different subjects about your number

“Yn? Yeah, the only one who has her number is probably the school system. I’ve been trying to get her number too but she doesn’t even pull her phone out in public that much.”

“Who is it? Maybe I could help.” Jeno said cheekily, earning a roll of the eye from Jaemin, who found out his brother turned out to be a well known ‘brooding prince charming’ knowing damn well his brother couldn’t fully carry a conversation with anyone of the opposite gender.

“It’s yn, not a lot of people have nice things to say about her though.”

“Ahh yn, yeah I know her. I haven’t talked to her though, she’s a daughter of this rich family. Her personal life is pretty private, I don’t know much about her besides that.” Jaemin just nodded at this information, which wasn’t really helpful. “Just forget about it, you just started focus on other stuff. She’s trouble anyways.”

[reachgirl]

Thoughts on Teen Wolf Episode 2-3

Watching Teen Wolf for the first time! My thoughts on Episode 1 are over here.

I love when in these teen shows all the parents have the important/relevant-to-the-plot-jobs in the town AND they all went to high school together as well, like are there only adults of one age in this town and they all had kids in the same year? Who are the kids in the other grades? Where do THEIR parents work?

Anyway HI DADDY STILES

Both Stiles and Derek have amazing eyelashes and it legit made me google eyelash serums and one will be arriving in 3-5 business days, I will report back

This whole town is very white, again I am forced to ask if they’re sure this is not New England

I am sad to report I don’t like the Lacrosse girlfriend anymore, she seems exhausting and unnecessarily bitchy :( Calm down Heather

Allison sees her boyfriend on the ground in front of their house and her first instinct is “Dad, did you try to kill him?” That is soooo shady

So it looks like Stiles mainly exists to teach main guy how to handle being a werewolf using only his researching skills and an understanding that he’s the emotional support best friend, but does he also get his own storyline or nah

Speaking of Stiles, does Daddy Stiles know how much adderall his son takes?

Okay, can we all back up here for a second and appreciate how quickly this show went from “WEREWOLVES??!” to “this is our lives now lmao I’m gonna try and not kill people tho, let’s go bowling” Normalcy bias at it’s peak y’all

The way Stiles reacted to Scott (look at that I found out his name finally) kissing Allison makes me wonder?

“Am I attractive to gay guys?” Iconic. So yeah, is he gay? bi? I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say since this is 2011 TV he’s canonically “straight”, but either way he IS a disaster and I’m so here for this character

I will give the Lacrosse guy credit for apparently being the only one in this town (other than Stiles) to figure out that something’s up with Scott, even if it’s for the wrong reasons, but him and his girlfriend kind of deserve each other, they are a piece of WORK!!! Like, give it a rest already, this is not a good look for either of you

Are there female werewolves in this universe? Because right now it all still seems like a metaphor for male rage / sexuality

YES STILES, CALL HIM OUT. STAND UP FOR YOURSELF. Nobody wants to be Robin all the time and WE ALL AGREE WITH YOU

Scott confronting Derek, this scene is gold honestly: “Could I hurt someone”? Yes. “Could I kill someone?” Yes. “WILL I kill someone”? Probably. - I can see an alternate reality where this is a TV show about a local psychic with great cheekbones and terrible yelp reviews

Real talk, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Scott and Allison really connect or talk. I’m just not super interested in either of them.. they’re pretty bland up until now, I wonder if that changes anytime soon, maybe when she figures out her dad is there to hunt her boyfriend? SUSPENSE

Shout out to all the parents on this show once again failing at even basic supervision of their teenagers, loved Scott’s mom’s exasperation that she’s “done enough parenting for one night” when Scott and Stiles say they don’t care about the curfew. Huge wine mom energy

Is it weird that I could, at this point, do without the Scott is a werewolf part of this show? I’d be fine if it was just half silly teenage, half dark human drama, I’m not super into the face changing and werewolf fights. Maybe that will change still. I do like Derek being a werewolf, it just doesn’t really suit Scott yet although I guess that’s kinda the point (just working through my thoughts here but I got there in the end guys, it’s all good)

Derek gets thrown back, gets up, takes off his jacket, goes “that was cute.” Maybe he is my type after all...

Okay see Derek didn’t bite Scott, that’s what I thought! Who did, then? Who’s this alpha? This dialogue is certainly something though.. all the talk about being betas and the alpha “wanting” Scott, it honestly sounds like fanfiction and now I get why Teen Wolf is one of the largest fandoms on AO3

[companionwolf]

I miss... my synagogue

[plutoswarrior]

Force Signatures part 1: Jedi

this is just what i think force signatures feel like for specific jedi.

part 2

part 3

as a precursor, im not saying i think force signatures are actually physically visible in any way. i use visuals to show what i think they feel like. i write weird, sorry, i hope it isn’t too confusing!

hope you like confusing sensory feelings and stuff here we go

jedi force signatures are very bright, very sharp, and very loud. high pitched falsettos. feel like how the word “bitter” sounds. will give you a headache if you look into them for too long. either searing hot or freezing cold. shiny. metalic. wintertime but the kind of wintertime that hurts your fingers.

Yoda: feels sharp, but also perfectly spherical and green. suprisingly low tone for a jedi, a tone that also does not fluxuate. its a strong signature, but it doesn’t sing. smells sharp but in a nice sour way. has the feeling like if you were to touch it you would get the tingles in your arms, like when they fall asleep. clear and constant.

Anakin: bright. bright bright bight. bright white hot . very sharp. star shaped. white and in the middle, like you dropped a drop of orange food coloring into it. its loud. very very loud. eight different high tones set in perfect harmony. smells like how ashes feel.

Darth vaders is exactly the same, except it is completely silent.

Obi Wan: vaguely star shaped. longer than it is wide. very cold. light light light green on the inside. vibrates a little bit. also a suprisingly low tone for a jedi, but not too low. feels like when you put your tongue on a battery and feel it shock between the sprockets through your tongue. metalic. wobbles on yellow-green. sometimes it spins.

Qui Gon: hot. bright green and it sings. it sings like no other. it is a symphony of rolling hills and flowery meadows. round with sharp spikes of energy. his is set in perfect motion, in perfect harmony and it is terrifying. feeling his signature is like peaking into eternity.

Ahsoka: wispy. unsteady. white and blue tendrils with sharp red and yellow bits. Cold. Her tones are high and nice, but one is off by half a step. feels like floating on the ocean, or trampoline acrobatics.

Plo Koon: hot, but in a ‘this is as hot as the shower can be before it actually burns my skin’ kind of way. orange. star shaped with rounded edges, kind of looks like a sea anemone i guess. sometimes a little pink, it tastes like watermelon candy. feeling it is like that good ‘happy crying’ feeling in your chest. his is safe, and loud. shifts between three or four higher tones.

Luke: bright like his dads except the inside dropplet color is green (and purple). also very hot. more of an oval shape though. also has the ‘happy crying’ feeling but it hits harder. prickly, but doesn’t hurt. if you ‘feel’ it for too long your vision goes white and you hear his falsettos in your head.

Rey: Red, actually. red and fierce. sharp and diamond shaped, wider than it is tall. spins very very fast. four tone perfect harmony. hot like flames and spicy food. if the sides of the diamond would be smooth. also has ‘vapor’ sizzling off of it i guess. hers is like a bright bright morning in december. your hand is bleeding because a wolf bit into your fingers and your blood is steaming on the cold snow.

[redantsunderneath]

West Side Story, Twin Peaks, and the Death of the 60s

I poke around at this a lot, but I thought it might be good to get it all down in one place.  

I feel like I grew up in an eclipse of West Side Story.  Grease had taken over its space as a specific cultural artifact, and it wasn’t pushed on TV that much. When I got around to it, I realized it was not what you might think it was – it was influential way past the direct references like Springsteen’s first 3 albums, theater offshoots, and modern Romeo and Juliet takes.  The filmmaking was daring and I noticed may stolen shots (this is about David Lynch, so I’ll use an example of the dissolve to the party being stolen for the jitterbug contest at the beginning of Mulholland Drive) not to mention the way New York City is shot becoming the only way to shoot it in the 70s and 80s.

The color scheme bears notice.  The Jets have goldenrod jackets and light blue ensembles, while the Sharks are purple and red (there is that one Orange girl that really pops) with a red background at the dance.  The jacket yellow and the red and white of Maria’s dress are the same as those of the high school in Twin Peaks.  Here, look:

Tony and Maria 

Tony and Maria 

But the real connection I want to make is the lead actors in WSS, both of whom were cast in Twin Peaks: Richard Beymer playing yearning Tony then scheming capitalist Ben Horne and Russ Tambyn playing gotta move Biff then try anything burnout, metoo bait Dr. Jacoby.  

The characters in Twin Peaks are embedded in a web of reflections and foils and, in many ways this diad is the center of that, even though they shared no scenes in the show (which is why the pic is a rarity).  But let’s look for a minute at these two actors and their lives.

Richard Beymer was a child actor that, other than WSS and Twin Peaks, is primarily known for journeyman TV work.  His WSS role was that of a guy who wants something specific and peruses it who has a job and generally follows the rules. The actor was, for most of his life, an example of someone in the glass closet, but he dated Sharon Tate before that choice.   He was more associated with the mod end of the 60s “split,” though he marched for civil rights. He settled into a typical TV guest starring career playing the straight-man career guy.  

Russ Tamblyn wanted to be a circus performer and, other than WSS and Twin Peaks, is primarily known for dance.  His WSS role was that of a guy who is all energy and just wants to engage and experience who has no job and generally flaunts the rules. The actor has been married and divorced many times, including to a Vegas showgirl.   He was more associated with the hippie end of the 60s “split,” and gave Charles Manson a ride in his VW bus once. His career is wild and diffuse, but he worked predominantly as a choreographer.  

There is much cultural myth acceptance of the Joan Didion narrative, that the problems with the 60s were there but the Manson Murders were when the idealism gave way and birthed the harsh 70s: the murders were the moment the 60s died. In a way, it is a story of the dirty hippie 60s leaking into the flashy Hollywood 60s.   But then, every male on both sides involved even peripherally with the event was guilty of rape and there was a way that all “sin” was normalized.  That’s the story, anyway, but we’re talking about stories.  Beymer was Tate adjacent, Tamblyn ran in Manson circles. Beymer and Tamblyn, from a purely superficial narrative lens, lived the two sides of the ideal 60s.   But after the 70s came the 80s.

In the 80s, the spirit of the 60s, such as it was, had given way to two archetypes that were fairly legible in entertainment at the time – the sellout and the burnout.  The businessman ruled by greed (Gordon Gekko was the apotheosis) and the hippie whose fading cognition struggled to remember the last 10-20 years had happened at all (think the image of Regan era Dennis Hopper, especially his Flashback character Huey Walker). It’s this that Twin Peaks was drawing on for the characters of Ben Horne and Jacoby.  

So the threads here are cute and obvious.  In casting Twin Peaks, they took WSS’s straight-laced icon of “you want it you take it you pay the price,” played by a lifelong career actor and Sharon Tate dater, and cast him as the rich businessman trope, and took WSS’s delinquent icon of “if it feels good, man,” played by a far out maximum experiencer and Manson valet, and cast him as the fried hippie trope.  Great, just regular casting, right?  But how does this build a network of associations?

The first most obvious reflections of the pair are Mike as Jacoby and Bob as Ben.  These are archetypal characters that represent the rapacious consumption (Bob) and the seeking/experiencing-tendency which has stepped out too far (Mike).  Mike also “splits” into the Mike the spirit and Philip Gerard which reflect a kind of addiction to experience that Philip eventually “kicks.” All this is centered around the idea of Garmonbozia, an ambivalent symbol of industrially ground down life essence produced by pain and suffering (sort of too much experience embodied but also a kind of jouissance the bad system depends on) which Bob and Mike sought but Phil has disavowed by cleaning up. This all relates to absent mother Judy but talk about her we won’t.

Ben is also reflected in Jerry, his brother, splitting the avarice of the Wolf of Wall Street type into the power hunger (Ben) and the hedonism (Jerry). He is further diffracted by the generational lens into Gen X Audrey and (in later S2) Bobby. Audrey is the youthful activism trying to reassert itself in the child, and Bobby turns into Alex P Keaton, the young stepper and protégée (that whole plot line reminds me of Family Ties for some reason).   The connections to other characters continue on their own wavelengths. Audrey mirrors Laura, who is mirrored by Donna and Maddie, many other businessmen reflect Ben, Bobby bounces off of James and Mike (no relation), Bob’s gender reflected mom Judy is Naido is Diane, etc.  There’s even an 11th hour play to connect Doc Hayward to Ben in a good dad/bad dad plot.

Mark Frost has always said that they were cast because they were the best actors for those roles, but Lynch’s casting by feel with no audition process is well known - he’s looking for people to “paint” with.  The history here brings up powerful associations that may have made him feel quite a lot.  I got through this entire post without using the word Boomer, not sure how, but Tamblyn and Beymer were both Silents who code as late and early Boomers respectively.