#they realized the rangers were criminals!

[venusandsaturnsrings]

Many thoughts of guard dog boothill... -chubby darling anon

MY SWEET!! thank u for sharing the boothill brain mwah mwah!! love u always U^ェ^U

there’s an issue, however… boothill doesn’t make a very good bodyguard, much less a guard dog. he has a habit of causing more trouble than he protects you from, something about his ego, which means that the second he gets even the slightest idea that someone’s looking at you a bit too long?? he’s lunging at them. all sharp teeth on display as he loads his gun with whatever bullets he can grab, inside or outside his body. even if the person was just looking past you, boothill sees it as a personal slight; they were obviously trying to rile him up!!

he’s not exactly the kind of guy i can imagine in a hybrid scenario, mainly because he’s such a mashup of parts already, but a being a dog would suit him… perhaps an australian shepherd… food for thought…

anyways, hiring him as your body guard?? a bad choice and also very bold of you to assume he’d agree!! he’s the travelling type, being a galaxy ranger, so consider this: forbidden lovers.

you were the esteemed child to an esteemed set of parents that expected no less than perfection of you. on one such interastral expedition, boothill happened to be on your planet for reasons he wouldn’t disclose but it all came down to an evening you shared. there was a reception of sorts for an upcoming book your family had endorsed, so you were expected to attended and, at your mothers word, perhaps look for a suitable partner. this particular breed of gathering wasn’t your speed, nor did you have any interest in scouting amongst the primarily geriatric body of people for a potential spouse. inevitably, you ended up tucked off on a balcony, some sort of fruity cocktail in hand as you idly played with the stir stick and waited out the party to its end. that was until a tall and out of breath gentleman stumbled onto the same balcony with a sharp whistle and sigh. it took a couple moments for him to notice you timidly staring, but when he did he jerked out a hand for you to shake and announcing himself as ‘boothill’ with a strangely charming accent. thus began a series of secret meetings and stolen kisses between giggles and the walls of places you’d never been; boothill was quite good at expanding your comfort zone.

eventually, your parents did find out and were livid that you’d been fooling around with a ‘no good wanted criminal,’ and demanded you see him one last time to have him turned in to the authorities. they didn’t realize just how slippery he could be or just how you had been waiting on the chance to finally leave so, you slipped out with all that you needed in the middle of the night to a grinning boothill. he promised to take you to even better bars and shooting ranges on much cooler planets so long as you stayed with him (you couldn’t possibly leave now).

[paninifixerupper]

A Bump in the Night

A/N: This took longer than I’d like to admit but I’m proud of myself for actually finishing it. Some Jay Halstead x Reader for y’all to (hopefully) enjoy. 

Without warning your eyes open and you’re awake. Something woke you up, but you don’t know what. Maybe it’s just Jay getting home late, you think. You look to the other side of the bed and see Jay’s back, he’s on his side, sleeping soundly. Sleeping hard, if the snoring and the beer bottles sitting on his night stand are any indication. 

You settle back into bed and roll over to spoon Jay, then a tinkling of glass comes from outside your bedroom. It almost sounds like it came from downstairs. 

You whip your head towards the door and softly slide your hand over to Jay’s body, preparing to wake him up. But you don’t hear the noise again and now you think you were just imagining things. 

Then it happens again but this time it’s louder and it’s not tinkling, it sounds like someone’s rummaging through stuff. This time the noise doesn’t stop and you know it’s time to wake up Jay. 

“Jay, Jay. Wake up,” You whisper to his sleeping form and lightly shake his shoulder. 

Jay groans and stops snoring, “Sorry,” he grumbles, thinking you were shaking him awake to stop his snoring, like always. 

After a moment, his snoring resumes as he falls back into sleep. Seemingly not hearing the noises happening somewhere in your home. Maybe it was just your imagination, Jay was a detective, an ex ranger for crying out loud, you think he’d wake up if someone was actually ransacking your home. 

So instead of continuing to attempt to wake him, you slide out of bed, pushing back the sheets to investigate the sounds yourself. 

You walk to the door and open it carefully, avoiding making it creak. Slipping out of the doorway, you hear the sounds of rummaging become louder with the added sound of low, urgent voices. Now there’s no doubt someone’s broken into yours and Jay’s home. 

Fear makes its way through your spine and you stop just beyond the doorway, wondering if you should go back and wake Jay up. But deadly curiosity and denial pushes you forward. 

Maybe it was one of his work friends, you tell yourself, it wasn’t unusual for any of them to crash at your home if they partied too hard and couldn’t make it back to their own. 

Keeping your back to the wall, you walk slowly down the hallway, getting closer and closer to the voices from downstairs. 

Finally at the stairs that lead down to your main level, you put your hand on the railing and lean over it, trying to see where, or more likely who is in your house right now. 

You don’t see anyone through the darkness of the living room and you can’t lean over the railing far enough to see into the kitchen. Staying back at the top of the stairs, you hear the voices head back deeper into the house, away from the stairs. 

Feeling more confident now that they’re getting further away from you, you step down the stairs, one at a time, keeping your hand on the railing. At the landing, you can see into the living room better, the furniture is moved around and all of your belongings have been scattered. Now would definitely be the time to go wake up Jay. Or call 911. Or go wake up Jay so he can call 911. 

The gravity of the situation is settling into you. There are people in your home, there are criminals in your home. And you’re downstairs with them, without a solid door between you this time. 

This realization lights a fire under you and you turn to go back up the stairs, just as one of the intruders, wearing a green coat, rounds the corner towards you. Even in the dim moonlight, he’s able to spot you and shouts, “Hey!”

He bounds over to the staircase and you start running up the stairs as fast as you can. 

Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look back! You chant these words in your head, hoping staying focused on running will keep you from slowing down. It doesn’t even cross your mind to call for help yet. 

The upstairs landing feels miles away, each step getting you only a little closer than the last and now you can hear pounding steps behind you, slamming against every stair after you. 

Before you can reach that final step, a strong hand grips onto your ankle and pulls your leg out from underneath you, dragging you back down the way you just came.

The intruder twists your leg around and your body follows, causing you to fall on the stairs straight on your hip. Nothing but a sharp exhale escapes you as the wind is knocked out of you from striking the stairs so hard. 

“Get down here, you stupid bitch,” The intruder grunts, pulling you down the rest of the way. 

Your head catches on the lip of one of the stairs, knocking you out of your senses. Dizzy and stunned, you’re only able to lazily throw your hands over your head and try to grapple for something to hold onto. You can’t grasp anything and end up being dragged all the way down to the bottom of the stairs. The intruder drops your leg harshly, it bounces off the hardwood floor. 

“Now what do we have here?” A different voice asks from above you. 

You roll your head back to look for where the voice is coming from and see a black pair of shoes settle next to your head. 

“Found her snooping around, she tried to run but I stopped her,” The one who pulled you down says. 

It’s not snooping if it's my fucking house! You wanted to scream. 

“Well, isn’t that lovely. Able to find anything?” Black shoes asks. 

“Nothing of value. Except for her,” Green coat responds, nudging your shoulder with his foot. Your body jostles from the light kick and you can feel blood running down your forehead from striking the stairs. Your body is buzzing with adrenaline and fear, you stay laying down because you won’t be fighting anyone with this head injury. You have a strong suspicion that you have a concussion. 

“Well, up and at ‘em then,” Black shoes picks you up by your shoulders, dragging you across the hardwood floor that you once loved in your home, now feels cold and foreign against your skin. 

You’re helpless against the intruders, now assaulters, and all you can think about is Jay sleeping up in bed. Who’s to say if he’s even heard any of the tussle, from you not being able to shout out for help at all, still trying to catch your breath.

They take you to your living room, after Black shoes’ nod, Green coat picks you up and drops you face down on the couch like a doll.

“Go get a towel,” Black shoes orders.

Green coat walks out of the room, towards the kitchen. Anger and fear burn in your stomach, it’s not right that these strangers know their way around your home, and you’re scared they’ll keep searching upstairs and find Jay, helpless and asleep. 

The sound of leather sliding against denim plays against the air. It’s a sound you’re familiar with, having heard Jay take his belt off countless times. 

But you don’t feel the thrill and excitement you usually feel when Jay is removing his own. You turn your head around to get a look at what Black shoes is doing but he shoves your face back into the couch. 

His knee presses into your lower back, holding you down on the couch. 

“Hey-!” You yelp, your first and last attempt at a muffled cry for help as your arms are pulled behind your back and tied together tightly. A strong hand keeps your face pushed into the cushions of the couch. Barely able to breath, your eyes begin watering from the lack of air. You shake your head from side to side, trying to find a crevice of breath. 

“Perfect, stuff it,” Black shoes orders from behind you. 

He grabs your hair on the back of your head, ripping your head back. 

Your mouth drops open and you inhale sharply, practically gasping, “Ah!” 

Green coat immediately shoves a cloth into your mouth. Effectively gagging you and taking away your breath once again. 

You’re convinced they’re going to suffocate you to death. 

Death, I’m gonna die, I’ll be dead soon, are the only panicked thoughts reverberating off the walls of your brain. 

You don’t know what they’re gonna do to you, but now you know he doesn’t want anyone to hear you scream. The only person that would’ve been able to hear you would be Jay, and he’s sleeping. Upstairs, sleeping, in an entirely different world. 

The reality of dying was taken over by a different thought. 

Jay.

What’s he going to do when he wakes up and you aren’t in bed? When he comes down the stairs and sees you dead on the couch? Or wherever they’re going to leave your body if they even leave you at home. You can’t imagine how it would feel to find him in this position and you don’t want him to see you like this either, tied up, gagged, and dead. 

You wish you had woken him up, if only to save him from having to find you. 

The weight of Black shoes’ knee is lifted off of your back and you feel weightless. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the two of them have evaporated out of existence from the silence behind you. Until you’re flipped back over. 

The two intruders are standing over the couch, looking you up and down, over and over. All of a sudden, you’re aware of your bare legs, and the oversized shirt that's bunched up around your waist. 

“Go wait outside,” Black shoes says. 

“But I’m the one who-” Green coat protests. 

“Outside.”

“Whatever, man, but I get the next one,” Green coat says.

As he leaves out the front door, Green coat wastes no time and pounces on you. He pushes your head back into the cushions again, forcing his face into your neck and inhaling deeply. You squirm and rip your head away from him.

“Mm!” You yelp when he bites down hard on your neck, in retaliation. Your screaming protest is muffled by the towel in your mouth.

The man’s weight presses down on you, keeping you in place and unable to get out from underneath him and you can’t breathe. The only thing you can feel is gravity crushing your chest and his biting teeth on your skin.

There’s nothing you can do, you’re trapped.

Jay. Think of Jay. You force the image of his green eyes into your brain and his smiling face.

Beautiful first moments from your life with him play on a reel in your mind. When you met him for the first time, when you went out on your first date, your first kiss, him meeting your family, becoming homeowners for the first time.

And now, for however much longer, you’ll know all of the beautiful last moments you had with him.

“So, what’s a young, beautiful woman like you doing all alone in a big house like this?” Black shoes asks, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“She’s not.” 

The body on top of you freezes at the new voice. Relief floods your veins at Jay’s voice, you can’t see him yet, but you can hear him. 

Click. 

“Get off of her or I’m going to blow your brains out,” Jay growls. 

Black shoes pulls his face out of your neck slowly, very aware of the gun aimed at the back of his skull. The movement allows you to see Jay in front of the couch, in all of his terrifying glory. You had always thought Jay had the face of a puppy dog and couldn’t understand how there could be criminals afraid of this man. But now, seeing him like this, you understand.

Jay’s face is fixed into a glare and in his eyes is barely contained rage.

“I said now!” Jay shouts, the man moving too slowly for his taste.

Jay reaches down, grasping Black shoes’ shoulder, and rips his body off of you. Jay steps around him, standing in front of the couch to block you from view. He briefly reaches behind to lay a hand on your leg, 

I’m here now, his touch tells you. 

Black shoes lands on the hardwood floor with a thud and shakes the room.

“You should probably let me go,” Black shoes says from the floor, ignoring the gun now pointed in his face.

Jay merely stares him down. But the man on the floor keeps talking. 

“‘Cause my partner’s outside and if I’m not out in say, oh, two minutes, he’s gonna come in here with his own little toy. That would be two against one, and I don’t think that’s really fair to you.”

The man slowly stands and puts his hands out in front of him. 

Almost on cue, screeching sirens and tires pull up outside of your house. With no time to waste, an officer shouts, “Chicago PD!” and the front door to your home bursts open and bounces off of the wall. 

Two officers enter through the door and quickly fix their guns on Black shoes “Stand down! On your knees!” they yell. 

As soon as backup arrives, Jay turns back to you and kneels on the floor in front of the couch. He pulls the towel out of your mouth and caresses your face.  Jay drapes the rest of his body over yours, covering it until the intruder is dragged out of the room. 

“It’s okay, I’m here, you’re safe now,” Jay whispers in your ear. His hand softly strokes your hair while you shake with sobs of relief and fear you weren’t able to let out until now. 

“What did they do? What hurts? They hit you?” Jay asks, his hands hover over the small wound on your forehead. 

“My hands, I can’t-” You ignore his question and move around, trying to bring attention to your tied hands so Jay can undo them. 

“Here, I got it,” Jay pulls the belt open and slides it off of your hands, freeing your arms. Jay throws the belt to the ground and pulls your arms out from underneath you.

“No blood, they hurt at all, your wrists?” Jay gently moves your wrists around and rubs the red marks.

“No.” You tell him.

“Detective Halstead, an ambulance is on the way,” one of the officers walks over, informing Jay. She glances over to you before obviously averting her eyes.

You look down at your bare legs and push yourself up from the couch, taking your hands out of Jay’s. You self consciously pull your shirt down over your legs, Jay notices the movement, “Here, one second. Sit tight.”

He makes to move away from you, but your hands shoot out, grabbing onto him of their own volition.

“Okay, okay, I’m not going anywhere. Just gonna grab you a blanket, okay?” Jay cajoles you, gently pushing your arms off of him. You’re too stubborn though, you’d rather sit here, pants-less, than let him out of your sight for even half a second. 

“Officer, there’s some blankets over-” Jay gestures behind him to the opposite corner of the room and the officer goes to grab one. 

“Of course, Detective,” she says, walking back and handing him the blanket. 

"Thank you. Here we go,” Jay throws the blankets around your shoulders, cocooning you. 

“The other offender tried to take off as soon as we pulled up, but we were able to apprehend him. They’re both on their way to the district,” The officer tells Jay. 

“Good, where’s that ambulance?” Jay asks. He cradles your chin with his hand, tilting your head back and forth, his focus back on the cut. 

“Five minutes out.”

***

You feel safer in the hospital with all of the nurses and police officers around, but a wave of guilt has settled somewhere in between the house and the ride to the hospital. Guilty for not waking Jay up sooner, guilty of putting yourself in a situation where you put Jay in danger to help you. 

When the officer was taking your statement, you didn’t miss the shocked, maybe even angry, look on Jay’s face when you admitted to investigating the noises in your home without waking him up. 

Now, you and Jay were alone, him dressing you out of the hospital gown you were put in and into some comfy clothes while you were waiting for the nurse to process your discharge. 

“I’m so happy you’re okay, (Y/N),” Jay whispers while he pulls a sweatshirt over your shoulder. 

You scoff, “I don’t know if you would call this ‘okay’.” You chuckle and place your hand on the thick bandage covering the stitched up cut on your forehead. 

“It could’ve been worse. Why didn’t you wake me up?” He asks with an edge in his voice. You try to ignore it as you feel his hands scoop your hair away from your neck, pulling it out of the hoodie. 

“I don’t know, honestly. I mean I tried-” 

“Why didn’t you try harder?” 

This time you can’t ignore the anger coming off of Jay in waves. So you turn to face him and tears spring in your eyes. You don’t think you could handle another angry man tonight and you aren’t exactly sure why he’s angry. Usually Jay is the level headed one and only gets upset for you, not because of you. 

“Why are you upset with me right now? I didn’t do anything-” 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m not upset with you,” He puts his hands on your arms, rubbing them up and down. Jay gently pushes you backwards to sit down on the hospital bed and he sits next to you. 

“When I woke up and you weren’t beside me anymore, I went to look for you. I heard voices and when I looked over the railing and saw that prick on top of you, I-” Thick emotion causes Jay to cut himself off and shakes his head back and forth. 

“I didn’t know what they had done to you already but I had a pretty good idea of what they were going to do...” 

Jay’s words take you back to earlier that night and a shiver runs through your body, trying to shake off the feeling of the man who had been on top of you, “I did too,” You respond. 

Jay quickly picks up again, “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just, when they were taking your statement and you said I had slept through most of it...I was so angry with myself. You were in trouble, terrified and hurt, and I was sleeping. I mean, you had to have made some type of noise, right? And I wouldn’t wake up, I didn’t help you. I’m the one that’s supposed to protect you, I was supposed to protect you. You should be angry with me, I’m angry with me-” Jay ramble wildly without pausing to take a breath, his cheeks turn red from the lack of air. Jay’s hands gesture forcefully around himself. 

Jay had been so preoccupied with your safety that he hadn’t had time to process how he was feeling. And now that you had been given a clean bill of health and were being sent back home for the night, all of his emotions were bursting out the seams. 

You reach out and grasp his hands, stopping their movement. Dipping your head to match his eyes, you tell him, 

“Jay, nothing that happened tonight was your fault. Yes I was scared and shaken up, I still am, but that’s not your fault. And you did protect me, you stopped that guy from...from,” You turn your eyes away from him while you attempt to say what almost happened. You aren’t trying to search for the words, they’re right in front of you. There’s no secret what would’ve happened if Jay hadn’t have interrupted. But you still don’t have the strength to say it. 

Jay lays a warm hand on your back in comfort. 

“I mean...Jay, the only thing I could think of was you. Everything we’ve done together...everything we had done for what I thought would be the last time, I-” 

You cut yourself off, heaving in a quick breath. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let a few tears escape and take in a shuddering breath. 

“The only thing I’m grateful for now is being next to you and after that I don’t want to be out of your sight ever again,” You break down in heavy sobs, not for the first time tonight. 

Jay immediately pulls you into his side, tucking your head under his chin. He softly rocks you while you cry. Jay cups the side of your head with his hand, pushing it into his chest as far as he can without suffocating you. You wrap your arms around his body, trying to bury yourself in him, hoping that his imprint will erase the ones that were left on you earlier. 

In a watery voice, Jay says, “I don’t want that either.” 

[bodybeyondstories]

Just ignore it - 1

David is teaching a course on identifying and managing magical anomalies, and begins to suspect there may be a reality-warper in class. Largely because everyone's butt looks too good to believe.

2 (Next)

(btw this is inspired by one of my favorite TF stories)

“Now the point of these journals is to start recognizing energetic and temporal anomalies, better attuning yourselves to…”

I paused mid-sentence, feeling that something was off, taking a beat before I continued with the lecture. I was hoping to have some time to settle into the Fall semester before having to deal with an inevitable minor metaphysical crisis, but a reality warper a few weeks in was not what I saw coming.

Having a job that includes resolving paranormal wrinkles in spacetime seems exciting until you realize that somehow they’ve found a way to turn it into yet another 9 to 5. People often expect some sort of imposing mansion or gothic structure whenever they hear “Center of Supernatural Sciences,” but it’s actually a squat concrete block cobbled together by a regional college in the 70s. The scariest thing for visitors is figuring out how to connect to the WiFi, though if you’re rude to Seema at the front desk, she will put a hex on you and that’s just your own fault. It’s been a mainstay on this campus for decades, but for how much longer was unclear, as administration has been defunding us relentlessly for as long as I’ve been here. The university doesn’t see our value in light of its own investments in mass surveillance technology and a more ‘hard science’ study of spookiness, but the work we do is still important. Supernatural phenomena are much more common than a lot of people realize–it’s just a matter of actually paying attention–and our work is split between teaching, research, and service, addressing issues locally and regionally as they arise.

And no, we’re not magic cops. We’re not out to punish or control, fist bumping each other as we shoot silver bullets first and ask questions later. That’s archaic. We investigate, mitigate, and remediate, stepping in whenever the fabric of reality gets a little too bunched or frayed and mending as best we can.

I teach a class called “Investigating Supernatural Threats” almost every semester, which is a title that I absolutely despise–I think it’s an insult to our more than human neighbors–but the department is worried that if we change it we’ll end up losing funding to the criminal justice program, and it’s a hill I’m only willing to get bruised on. But it’s a survey of identifying and responding to paranormal, metaphysical, and magical shenanigans, so it tends to get all kinds. It’s usually a relatively small group, a smattering of grad students from occult history to crypto-zoology, museum curators and archivists needing a refresher on what to be cautious of, and often–which I’m personally delighted by–new forest rangers sent by the state’s Department of Natural Resources who are doing overnights for the first time.

But back to the issue at hand. It’s my job to stay observant across multiple temporal and dimensional planes, so I’m known for picking up on minor phenomena and patterns that at first glance may not seem significant. So around week 3, I couldn’t help but notice that most, if not all, of the men in the class had near perfect, juicy butts, yet all unique in their own ways. I was used to commanding attention with a round booty sitting pretty on my 6’1” frame, looking downright disproportionate against my lean swimmer’s build–a blessing and a curse, really–but some of them were giving me a run for my money. Which isn’t really an issue, squats are en vogue and there are plenty of male leg day enthusiasts thanks to social media trends, not that I’m complaining, but in week 4, I picked up on the fact that all of their pants fit so well. Too well. Like not just fitted but custom made for each of their unique and sizeable proportions, as if carefully crafted to emphasize and display their bubble butts. A telltale sign.

During class, I kept my extrasensory eyes and ears open, seeing if I could pick up on any novel energetic shifts. And I felt something odd. Something deep and subsonic, pressing tentatively against the borders of our reality, like a sperm whale floating up to a kayak without making a sound. I could feel an energy seeping into local space, something building to some sort of threshold, before, with a submerged *pop* that I could ‘hear’ elsewhere, it was gone. It was like nothing had happened. In fact, nothing had happened. I turned to the board to continue writing something that I had forgotten, only realizing after class had ended that I had been writing about two inches above where I had left off. I did a somatic check, quickly scanning my body from toes to head to fingertips. I felt fine, had all ten fingers, only two eyes, an ass that could stop traffic, still a strapping 6’3”. But had that been true an hour ago? Doubt was setting in.

As someone who teaches the detection and mitigation of magical fuckery, this isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with a potential situation like this. You’d be surprised how often some horny gay warlock has a little too much fun and needs to be reined in, or someone’s chaos magic manifests without them realizing–even worse, with them fully realizing. If you’ve ever had to neutralize an entire college dorm (and a frat house to boot) you would understand why we need more funding and support in magical education, but this isn’t the time for my soap box. A mystery’s afoot.

My most important piece of advice: Just ignore it. The thing is, a reality warper is a serious matter. If you call someone out, you better come correct and prepared for anything. Even just them knowing that you know–or that you’re on the hunt–can get real messy real fast. So you have to act casual. Don’t let them know you’re on to them, and don’t let them know that you know that something is seriously off. This is why I always introduce an extended project around tracking anomalies in the fabric of spacetime, having my students keep journals of anything weird, unusual, or metaphysically wobbly. Don’t react in real time, just on paper and in private, keeping a record of things as they happen. But it seemed like whoever this was was influencing the passage of time in very subtle ways and everyone’s memories, for the most part, were adjusting accordingly. Which is why no one in class has batted an eye at the fact that the asses in this room look like they were expertly morphed to near-comical proportions. After all, what else is new? So I took a different strategy and laid a trap.

The donk on my 6’4” frame (Hmm…) was a sight to behold. All muscle with a healthy layer of padding ballooning out from my otherwise lithe form. It was leaps and bounds my best feature, had been for as long as I could remember. I was used to men staring dumbfounded in public as my cheeks swished back and forth, including my own students whenever I turned to the blackboard, pushing it out ever so slightly as I leaned forward to write, the globes of my ass encased in one of many perfectly tailored pairs of tweed slacks. I didn’t have much of a choice in the matter, seeing as any pants off the rack would either be way to loose in the waist or way too tight in the glutes, risking catastrophic failure. So I got my pants carefully fitted, but the thing was, so did everyone else. All the men in the class, from muscle butts to perky, round ones, to jiggly booties and wide hips, always had expertly fitted pants without fail. So we know what the focus of the shifts was, but it seemed like it was an expert reworking of time, and with that, memory. The phenomenon of unusually juicy asses in class pinged on my paranormal radar, but mine had always been this way. Right?

The thing is, the fit of everyone’s pants wasn’t just good, it was too good. Perfect, even. Yes, I had memories of having all my slacks tailored but they fit like they had been hand sewn on a lifelike model of my bulbous glutes with millimeter scale precision, not too little and not too much. So I found a pair that I didn’t much care for and took a razor to the back seam to weaken it just so. I squeezed into my form fitting pants and made my way to campus, careful not to stress the stitches too much and too fast, waddling into the room early and looking forward to this ordeal being over. Before anyone showed up, I cast a spell of detection around the space. Not detection of magical activities, which would’ve risked tripping any alarms that my possible warper may have already had in place, not to mention the possibility of interfering chaotically with their own spell whose function I was still unsure of. It was more of an emotional and energetic heat map, tipping me off to any sudden shifts in people’s auras.

Class began like normal as I offered some further thoughts inspired by the previous week’s discussion of AI programs as a potential tool of revealing and visualizing temporal anomalies. The discipline, in order to stay relevant, had been getting into the implications of digital technologies and new media for magical phenomena, so I figured we should spend a little more time on the topic. Also I was genuinely interested in hearing people’s thoughts, albeit distracted by the ticking time bomb of my basketball buns putting catastrophic pressure on my pants as I sometimes too excitedly paced across the front of the room. 

Per usual, I could feel the crescendo of strange, unfamiliar power rubbing almost playfully along the barrier between worlds, but everyone’s auras seemed fine. There was no corresponding wave of connected energy from any one person, beyond the general simmer of erotic activation (i.e. horniness) that spiked every time I turned my back to the class. I had become familiar with the exact threshold that this power would hit before it seemingly reset everything to a new, slightly more enhanced normal, and I was counting on the regularity of that threshold with the timing of this next move.

The previous, and now continuing discussion of new media had led me to realize that the enhanced asses in the room really did look like expertly done morphs and the perfect fit of every pair of pants, no matter the material, was simply improbable. Whoever this was, whatever this was, was operating along the edges of possibility, letting fantasy seep into what we generally regard as the real (or what we think is the real). So I figured, why not use one of my favorite tropes and see what happens.

My tweed slacks were impeccable but not indestructible and as the energetic threshold was reached I just happened to drop my chalk, quickly bending down to retrieve it. The spike in erotic attention from the view of my ballooning backside paled in comparison to what followed, as the seam of my pants finally gave way, my cheeks spilling into view along with a pair of pink and purple polka dotted bikini briefs that did nothing to cover the shelf of my ass.

I played it off with my expert acting skills (this wasn’t the first time I had to feign surprise from some magical mishap), performing a practiced mixture of embarrassment and humor that I assumed the reality-shifter would expect. From the men in class was a mix of nodding in understanding and whispers of It’s even bigger than I thought and How did those pants even fit. I felt a wave of erotic energy move through the room, but there was a spike of something else in the back corner. Something sharper, a tendril of fantastical power peeking into our dimension, concentrated around Logan, who I found staring directly at me with a look of surprise and mild confusion.

I knew of Logan, he was an archivist based in the college’s paranormal artifacts collection, and I think he had signed up for my class as a refresher for methods and safety when investigating and collecting potentially powerful and chaotic objects. He was skinny all around, topping out at no more than 5’7”, his thick, hexagonal rimmed glasses sitting below a mop of bouncy curls with an undercut. He usually came in wearing a pair of loose, flowy drop crotch pants, a surprisingly bohemian look with his otherwise reserved demeanor and sensible button downs. He was demur and unassuming, not seeming like the kind of person to cause this kind of trouble. But at this point he was the only dude in class that didn’t have an absolute dump truck.

The following week, I wondered why I had even hatched that plan in the first place, seeing as I always wear a skirt over tasteful leggings. I had given up on wearing pants years ago because it was just too much of a hassle, opting instead to let the globes of my ass bounce back and forth with more freeform bottomwear. Slacks were constricting enough in the back, but I was also tired of my donkey dick being suffocated in the crotch. A blessing and a curse. It looked like a couple of the guys in class had followed suit, perched on their round glutes as they let some thick bulges snake down leggings or compression shorts.

No wonder those pants ripped, I thought. I probably haven’t worn those in–

Ah ha. Another bread crumb. And an added wrinkle. Time hadn’t been totally rewritten and my memory hadn’t been totally wiped, just altered in the most efficient way in that moment. In fact, I was still mentally very much on the case and making progress. It wasn’t the sort of loose thread that a reality warper this competent would leave, and by now they must realize that I of all people would be on to them. I began to surmise that Logan wasn’t the one pulling the strings, but was actually some sort of conduit. Maybe for a bored trickster god playing an erotic prank–which, frankly, happens much more often than you’d think.

That week, through irony or serendipity, we actually were discussing strategies for navigating the psychological and emotional games that tricksters love to play, but as the supernatural energy began building on schedule, that previous playfulness had hints of… irritation? The power was a little discordant and I could feel it somatically in a way that I hadn’t before; it seemed everyone else could too. We continued on like normal as my leggings felt fuller and tighter in the glutes, my shoes feeling uncomfortably snug as more of my ankles revealed themselves, my dick inexorably snaking its way towards my hip while staying totally soft.

This was new.  And potentially a game changer. But I, along with my students, followed the central mantra of my profession: Note it. Track it. But until you have a plan in place, just ignore it.

[worstpokeparentshowdown]

ROUND 1

Ghetsis Harmonia Gropius (BW/B2W2) Vs Gordor (Ranger)

Why do they suck? Well...

Ghetsis: He raised three orphaned children to do his bidding. Raising them to uphold the ideals of liberating Pokemon from people in order to make himself the most powerful man in the world.

When those children eventually found out the truth and went against him, he showed that he never really cared about them in the first place. They were simply tools to him.

In N's case, he isolated N from all humans and N was only allowed to interact with Pokemon. Once N realized he was being manipulated and went against Ghetsis' wishes, Ghetsis threw N away without a second glance never actually caring about him at all, calling him a "freak without a human heart."

Gordor: Gordor is the father of the go rock quads: Billy, Tifanny, Garret, and Clyde. He made them the higher authority in the Go Rock Squad, the organization he leads. Basically he raised them into a criminal life style.

After his defeat he abandons them along with the rest of the organization.

[crp-low-quality-content]

My experiences from shifting to a realistic creepypasta reality.

i'm gonna tell you guys about my shifting experience to a REALISTIC creepypasta reality. Remember that you have to at least be 14 or 16 to read this because there are very messed up and disgusting stuff in this post, and most things look like it came from a the boys episode so DON'T READ IT if you're too sensitive to this stuff.

And a reminder that english is not my first language

One day me and smile dog made a bet about something i don't remember much, but he lost and i made him dress like paw patrol for a week.

once I had a mission in an abandoned factory and I hadn't to kill anyone just rob an item there, but there was criminals in there and an innocent man, so I decided to save him, which was extremely hard for me but he ended running from me frightened because of me... and he ran to a avenue where a truck ran over him.

one day masky made me mad, so I sneaked into Toby's room and extracted his cum on the floor and put it in masky's coffee.

I had a crush on Dr smiley once so I decided to write him a letter confessing to him. but the letter ended up in Slenderman's hands and later he told me he felt the same.

During a phase of my childhood when I was 7 years old, I had a kitten, and one day my cat had disappeared and I had been very sad, so my mother had prepared a meat soup to cheer me up, and when I had finished eating she showed me a piece of my cat's head and said: "was it good?". And then she laughed.

When i was a normal human in my 14s i had an encounter with a zalgo's prophet on Omegle's and they said that they were coming to me, so i thought that if i acted weird in my webcam they wouldn't come. So i started to do wild animal noises and pissed myself.

The prophet or zalgo's proxy, didn't came to get me so it worked.

one day I was in my real form, when I saw a girl with black hair wearing a white sweatshirt that I thought was Jeff, so I started following her, until she turned to me and screamed: "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?" and threw pepper spray on my face.

I've already eaten a piece of Jack when he had an accident and was on the operating table, so they removed a piece of meat from his ribs that was very damaged and hanging and left it on a tray next to him. I was passing in the corridor and when I looked inside the operating room I saw the piece of meat on the tray and that Dr. smiley had gone out to get something, I sneaked in, took the piece and ate it and left the room.

I don't know what came over me, but at least it was good.

I found out that he regenerates, so this accident was no big deal.

One day I'd been bullied by everyone in the mansion, so i "accidentally" dropped some drug in the soup i was making and the people there ended up eating it, and everyone, except the ghosts, went high. And i got punished for it.

One day I made pasta (not a Creepypasta) as dinner and everyone who ate got sick and almost shit themselves. And again I've got punished and gone to the mansion's dungeon.

One day the proxy trio humiliated me in front of everyone, and i wanted revenge so i posted anonymously a hentai of them three in the mansion's web, and everyone who had phones saw it.

I dated Jack for a while there, and he started to like me to the point where he revealed his face to me. When he did that I realized he was so ugly that I almost cried when I kissed him. After about two weeks I broke up with him.

during my first Christmas in the mansion I saw offenderman using the Christmas turkey to do things u know what... but I was too shy to tell anyone, so during the dinner everyone ate the turkey, except me.

During a mission me and some proxies were discussing a plan and soon we got to a part that involved opening degrees, so I made a joke telling masky to open my legs 180 degrees and I got punished for it.

Note: proxies have a higher ranking than other creepys or lone rangers as they're called there, so you can't disrespect them at all

I already made at least 3 people go to a mental institution.

One day i got to knew about Jeff's and Liu's parents, so while Liu was very drunk i called him on a caller ID and i did my best mom impression voice to say: "it's me Liu, your mother, and I'm coming back for you." While playing hell background noises.

when i was 8 i hated clowns with all my forces but one day i had the bad luck to laughing jack find me. i hated him too much but i was good in not showing it, so one day I've set fire on him and Lucky that my mother found out about my "friend" and got rid of him.

my mother was a witch in that reality.

One say i fell out of my bedroom's window and broke a few bones, and i was brought to the medical office of the mansion and explained what happened to me to nurse and and she just said: "skill issue".

Of course, these are the funniest and light stuff that happened to me. Going to this reality just messed with me, and I'm still scared of some things, but my mental state is fine there's nothing to worry about me.

[bittenbyyou]

Desiderium (1)

MCU!Spider-Man x Cop!Reader | Peter Parker x Cop!Reader

Desiderium: an ardent desire or longing. especially : a feeling of loss or grief for something lost.

genre: angst, light-hearted comedy

description: In which Peter accidentally travels to your Earth, where he’s a wanted criminal and you’re supposed to arrest him.

word count: 2.4k

warnings: bit of angst, attempts at comedy, NWH spoilers, Across the Spiderverse movie references, Power Ranger SPD references lmfao (OC is a power ranger cop), Peter being an absolute dork and geeking out at OC’s powers, I just want him happy :(((

a/n: This is my attempt at a love story that I couldn’t get out of my head. I was heavily inspired by the character Yuri Watanabe in the Spider-Man game, wondering what would happen if Yuri and Spider-Man were a thing. But you don't have to know the game because OC isn’t exactly like Yuri except for the cop part. I made her a Power Ranger instead because I can and it’d be hilarious if Spider-Man met a Power Ranger (plus Japanese Spider-Man ran so other Spider-Men could walk. Okay enough of me geeking out now). 

extra a/n: The Japanese Power Rangers were actually what inspired me because they were the original before America adapted it. OC is basically Jasmine from Dekaranger if anyone’s curious. 

Things were uneventful after everyone forgot who Peter Parker was. Crime was reduced to typical bank robberies and short-lived car chases. Nothing that Spider-Man had to get himself involved in. It was dangerously boring, which wasn’t good. Boring meant free time. And free time meant he was trapped with his thoughts. 

He wanted to forget it all. Forget that he was all alone. Forget that he didn’t get into MIT. Forget he was stuck working a minimum wage paying job that barely got him to pay his rent. Trust that he was spiraling into waves of depression, blaming himself for what happened and that it was all for the best.

But was it really? 

The fact he couldn’t go to Aunt May’s grave without coincidentally running into Happy and lying about his relationship with her. The fact that Mr. Stark wasn’t there to mentor him, scold him, or comfort him anymore. The fact that he had to let go of the love of his life and best friend crushed him to the point where he thought he would go mad. 

He had to find a hobby and so he did what he did best—build things, specifically new gadgets. Why not with all this free time? 

About four months in, Peter had been invested in working on an experimental device in his makeshift lab. The goal was to be able to travel across the multiverse and find a world where he wasn’t suffering. For once, he had hope that he could have a happy ending. Yes, it was dangerous and stupid, but he had to try. This wasn’t magic; it was science. And experimenting was the only thing keeping him sane. 

Once he put on the finishing touches, he suited up and swung himself onto his apartment’s rooftop. 

He overlooked the city he once protected and loved, bidding it farewell. This world didn’t need him anymore. Not as Peter Parker. Not as Spider-Man. He pressed the button on the gadget wrapped around his wrist, resulting in an electric shock from the device. 

“Ow!” 

By some miracle, he caused an electromagnetic surge that opened up a temporary rift in the fabric of reality, causing a brief glimpse into an alternate Earth. He couldn’t believe his eyes, jumping into the portal without hesitation. 

“Ahhh!!!”

To say he dropped out of the sky wouldn’t be an exaggeration. The superhero fell face flat onto the roof of an apartment building, groaning from the impact. Getting up and perching on the ledge, he overlooked the city he was in to quickly realize it was Queens, New York. But�� something seemed off. The people looked human, but then there were others that appeared… extraterrestrial. 

“Damn it,” Peter muttered, smacking the device on his wrist. It wasn’t working anymore, completely fried to a crisp. Panic settled into his features because he didn’t know where the hell he was. “What do I do…?”

He peered down on the streets to see some cops walking back to their station and figured maybe someone could help him there. 

It’s almost laughable how easy your job could be sometimes. You were at Delta Base circulating wanted posters around the police station, paying no mind to those who came and went. It wasn’t until you heard a soft, gentle voice ask an officer at the front desk a question.

“Hi, my name is Spider-Man and uh, I think I’m on the wrong Earth… or maybe the wrong planet? I saw so many aliens out there, are y’all being invaded? I’ll help you if you help me?

The police officer saw the poster on his desk with the word “WANTED” in big bold letters, trembling at the resemblance. “O-Oh my god! It’s the same person! Um?!” 

He held up the poster and looked over to you, who was at the other end of the information counter, eyes screaming, “HELP ME, CAPTAIN.”

You looked up and placed your posters down, walking over to the wanted man in question. “Pardon me, on our Earth when you first walk into a police station, it’s custom to pose like this.” 

You placed your wrists in line with each other, palms facing inward towards the body and the man in red and blue copied you.

“Like this?” 

“Thanks,” you immediately placed handcuffs on him, “you made my job so much easier.”

Spider-Man lifted his hands up to his face, the white part on his mask where his eyes were widened in disbelief. “Wait, I’m not a criminal!”

Grabbing the poster from the officer’s hands to exhibit it to the lawbreaker, you explained, “Spider-Man, you’re wanted for illegal use of teleportation across the multiverse.”

Spider-Man squinted at the poster to examine it closer. “I’m only worth a bounty of 2 million dollars? Ouch.”

“You’re under arrest.”

As a group of officers surrounded Spider-Man, tension filled the air. They were on high alert, weapons drawn, ready to make an arrest. Peter shook his head in denial. How could this be happening again? Even on a different Earth people were after him because he was Spider-Man. He had to get out of here.

Just as the officers were about to move in, a loud, piercing alarm began blaring from a nearby building. The sound echoed through the streets, capturing the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

The officers, trained to prioritized public safety, immediately shifted their attention to the source of the alarm. Spider-Man used this to his advantage. In a swift motion, he launched into a flurry of kicks, each one executed with remarkable speed and accuracy.

His first kick was a spinning hook kick, his leg extended in a graceful arc. His foot connected with an officer’s forearm, knocking the weapon out of their grasp. Without missing a beat, Spider-Man transitioned into a rapid succession of roundhouse kicks. His legs became a blur of motion as he unleashed a whirlwind of strikes, sending his opponents stumbling backwards.

"Will," he exclaimed with a forceful kick, "this," he followed up with another powerful kick, "make my bounty higher?!"

All the officers were down now, groaning from the pain inflicted by Spider-Man. He met your eyes and let out a nervous laugh. “I’d say I’m worth 3 million now.”

You charged towards him, but he shot a web that glued you to the information desk. 

“What the hell?” That shouldn’t have been possible. The cuffs were designed to stop Spider-Man’s webs from coming out from his body. 

“Sorry, pretty police lady!”

Peter tried to break the handcuffs using brute force, widening the whites of his mask when he failed. He tried again, cursing to himself as to why it wasn’t working. You took that chance to reach into your pocket, pulling out your SP License. Pressing the button that activated your transformation, your shiny red uniform gave you enough strength to break free of the webs. 

You charged towards him to gain enough speed, launching a flying kick to his face. Peter’s body was flung backwards into the wall and he fell flat on his face, moaning in pain. Before he could fully get up, you pulled out your magnum firearms.

“Stay down.”

Not like you gave him a choice. His entire whole body jolted from the sudden shock of your taser. 

Peter stood in his cell bored out of his mind. How could things go so wrong so fast?

“Excuse me?” he called out, grabbing onto the bars. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I’m also hungry… I got homework.”

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and he saw you, clad in your bright red uniform. On the left side of your body was a large number 1 in the color black. He gasped in admiration while you crossed your arms. 

“You’re a Power Ranger? Dude, that is so cool! I thought it was just a TV show!”

You put your hands on your hips. “What’s a Power Ranger?”

“You guys don’t have Power Rangers here?” You de-tranformed back to your normal self and he shrieked in excitement. “Oh my god, your uniform just disappears?! How is that possible? That’s so convenient!”

“[Y/N].” You and Spider-Man shifted your attention to the deep voice, meeting face to face with your boss. First thing Peter noticed was the blue fur and snout that resembled that of a dog. The dog had a distinctive police officer uniform in black and silver with the SPD logo prominently displayed on and was very tall. 

“Is that your boss?! He’s a talking DOG?!”

You facepalmed yourself, feeling like you were dealing with a child. “That’s Chief Kruger. Don’t be rude.”

Spider-Man straightened his posture and saluted Kruger. “Hello. Sir.”

“Good job, [Y/N]. You indeed caught Spider-Man,” Kruger narrowed his eyes on Peter, the piercing gaze sending chills through his spine. It was almost like he could see him through his mask. “Is this really Spider-Man?”

“I’m not Spider-Man,” Peter said quickly, grabbing the bars once again in desperation. You side-eyed him so hard. “I mean, I am. But I think you’ve got the wrong guy. I came here by accident.”

“And how did you do that?” you interrogated.

“I… I made myself a gadget to travel across universes.”

“See Boss? Illegal use of teleportation.”

“But he seems rather… harmless?”

Peter nodded his head rapidly. “That’s me, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, who is absolutely harmless.”

“He knocked out ten officers,” you informed Kruger.

“Purely out of self-defense. I just wanna go home.”

He watched the way you and your boss looked at each other. You took a deep sigh, slowly removing one of the black gloves off your hands. 

“Excuse me,” you said, placing your bare hand onto Peter’s. He tensed up at the sudden contact while you closed your eyes. 

See, you were born with psychic abilities and could pick up sensory impressions of others through touch. Memories of Peter’s life rapidly flashed through your mind, causing you to furrow your eyebrows in distress. You finally opened your eyes.

“He’s not our Spider-Man,” you said, removing your hand off him. “His name is Peter Parker. He’s part of a superhero team called The Avengers. Fought a nasty purple alien named Thanos.”

Peter stepped away from the bars pointing at you and Kruger in a quick back and forth motion. “H-How, how does she—how do you know that?!”

“[Y/N] is psychic,” Kruger explained. 

“She read my mind, you read my mind?” Peter asked, shooting you an incredulous look.

“It’s protocol.”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy. And rights. The constitution says—,” you shot him a death glare, “I’ll be quiet now.”

“Our apologies. The Spider-Man we’ve been trying to catch escaped from prison recently. He somehow got his hands on one of our teleportation devices,” Kruger explained. “It’s a shame how he’s turned against us.”

Peter saw how you instinctively reached for your opposite arm, gently grasping it just above the elbow.

“Was he your friend?” You snapped your head up to look at him.

“No.” You punched the numbers into the keypad of his cell and opened it, grabbing Peter’s handcuffs forcefully to bring him closer. He gulped, worried he had hit a nerve but was relieved when you unlocked the cuffs. “I’ll send you home.”

Kruger stopped Peter from following you into the main headquarters by placing an arm out in front. 

“Spider-Man was [Y/N]’s best partner. The two of them were inseparable, putting away criminals day by day. Until one day Spider-Man simply snapped, saying the world wasn’t fair. He became an unstoppable vigilante, breaking rules to deliver justice or just to release anger. She had to put him away.”

Peter watched as your frame grew smaller and smaller, wondering how much it hurt you to step up and do what needed to be done. He could relate.

“Let’s go send you home, Peter.”

Kruger placed a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the main headquarters. The hexagonal doors opened automatically upon their arrival and you just had finished strapping the gadget on your wrist.

“Okay. This device will scan your DNA and open a portal back to your Earth.”

You pointed your fist at Peter as random thoughts raced through his mind.

What if I just stay here?

There’s nothing for me back in Queens.

I should help her.

There’s a purpose for me here.

“Wait!” he shouted, waving his hands back and forth.

“What?”

“I can help you catch him. Let me stay here.”

You let out a chuckle. “No, there’s a whole team of people who are looking for him across the multiverse. Trust me. I’ll deal with him myself if he comes back here.”

“Then let me stay and help you with the other crimes in the meantime.”

“Why? You have to go back to your Earth. They can’t survive without Spider-Man.”

Peter thought about how low crime was and how he’d rather be anywhere than back home, where no one knew him. Where there was nothing there for him right now. He’d rather be anywhere but there. If he was sent back now, he’d be faced with his failures again.

“A lot has happened and there’s really not much crime that the police can’t handle there. I want to help you.” You lowered your arm, trying to figure out what his deal was. “Please? Come on, you guys have such cool technology! I have to figure out how you transform like that. Do you have a mecha? Oh my god, you fight in giant robots, don’t you? And it’s so badass that you’re the red ranger.”

“Why are you saying that like I’m not supposed to be one?”

“Well… because…” the atmosphere turned awkward real quick, “On TV it’s always a guy. So you’re incredible. Breaking standards. Girl power!” He fist-bumped the air like a total dork. 

“Yeah, I don’t think I can send you home until after we delve into why that’s problematic.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” He took off his mask and you saw his face for the first time. He was young, probably in his twenties like you. His brown curls looked soft and perfect, his smile radiant. He reached his hand out to you. “Partners?”

You shook his hand. “Partners.”

He held your hand for a bit too long and you had to shake him off. “Heh. Sorry. Wait, does your SPD badge stand for Space Police Detective? You’re a space cop?”

“Uh… yes?”

“I could be Spider-Cop.”

“No, that’s a horrible name.”

“Oh, come on!” He deepened his voice to a comical level similar to that of Batman. “I’m Spider-Cop.”

“No, no Spider-Cop.”

“But I got a great theme song. Let me sing it for you.”

“Oh dear lord…”

Thank you for reading!!!

[walker-extended-universe]

In Another World

Relationship(s): Cordell Walker/Emily Walker, Geri Broussard/Hoyt Rawlins, Hoyt Rawlins & Emily Walker, Hoyt Rawlins/Emily Walker, August Walker & Emily Walker & Stella Walker

Tags/Warnings: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major Character Death, Alternate Universe- Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe- Role Reversal, Grief/Mourning, Supportive Friends, Crimes & Criminals, Jail, Moving On, Falling in Love, Accidental Relationship, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending

Summary: What would've happened if Cordell and Geri had been the ones to die? Would Hoyt and Emily have found their way to each other? What would that have looked like?

Written for @angstober Day 31: Won't Forget

It was just supposed to be a simple raid. Sure, there was always a risk with his job; they all knew it. But Cordell always came back alright. Maybe he had a scratch or a bruise or, heaven forbid, a stab or a shot wound, but he always came back.

Maybe Emily had just grown naive enough to fool herself with pretty lies like that. Otherwise, that phone call may not have destroyed her so completely.

She tried to shove it down. There was so much for her to do. She had to make preparations for the funeral- his real funeral, not that pony show the county was putting on for their Fallen Ranger. She had to handle the contents of Cordell’s will and thank the Lord every day that she’d bugged him to keep it updated. She had to work with the life insurance company to make sure her family got what they were owed (not that it could replace Cordell). And she had to keep up a normal life on top of it all, make sure the kids got to school and kept up with their coursework- not to mention keep up with her own work.

She never realized how much she needed Cordell to get through her day. Everyone in their lives would joke that she was the one that held their family together, especially with how much his work took him away. Goodness knows how many fights they’d had about that. But Cordell was always the one that made her coffee in the morning and reminded her to take snacks when she had a busy day and might not be able to eat a full lunch. He was always the one that took care of the garden and made sure the weeds didn’t get out of control. He was always the one that kept her car topped up with gas and reminded her about oil changes. He was always the one that helped her sleep at night, his warm body and steady heartbeat a comfort that she couldn’t get a decent night’s sleep without.

How was she supposed to live the rest of her life like this?

“Mornin’, Em! I made pancakes.”

Emily smiled and brought down some plates. “Thanks Hoyt. The kids will love it.”

“So will you.”

She never expected Hoyt to be such a big support. Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised; he’d been Cordell’s best friend and one of her closest ones for many years. She supposed it was just easy to forget what a good friend he could be when he was around since he spend so much of his time away.

He wasn’t everything she needed, but he helped. He made sure the kids got to school and packed her lunches and kept the house in order- things she felt too frazzled and lost in her grief to care about.

A small part of her felt bad for taking up his time like this. She knew Geri wanted time with her own boyfriend. But Hoyt was insistent on helping and Geri never said anything to her about it so she wasn’t going to rock the boat. It was nice having him around.

Maybe it was a little strange to have him stay the night when he had someone else to go home to, but she couldn’t help but feel comfort in not being totally alone when she couldn’t sleep.

There was nothing wrong with a friend helping out a friend, right?

—-------------

She was never supposed to be involved. Hoyt tried so hard to keep the line between his private life and his work clear and firm. He never talked about his friends or family with his more dangerous cohorts, and he definitely never told them about Geri.

But it wasn’t enough. He didn’t do enough to protect her. And now Geri was being rolled out of her own home in a body bag.

Hoyt had been the one to find her. He came to the house early to make Geri some breakfast after he made some for Emily and the kids. He felt a little bad for spending so much time over there, even if he did have a good reason. He just wanted to do something nice to remind her he still cared. He’d even bought flowers on his way over.

Now those flowers were in the trash and he was relegated to the porch while various LEOs trampled in and out of Geri’s house. His thumb hovered over Emily’s contact in his phone.

He should call her. She deserved to know her best friend was dead. But how was he supposed to tell her? It had only been about 6 months since they lost Cordell. How was he supposed to tell her she lost her best friend now too? And how was he supposed to explain that it was all his fault? She’d slam the door in his face next time he came over for sure. How could she ever stand to look at him again?

“I can tell her if you want.”

Hoyt jerked and looked up at the man who had apparently materialized next to him. “Larry,” he greeted. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her. You had to tell her about Cordell; it’s my turn.”

“I don’t mind,” he said. “I know…. I know it’s not easy.”

“I’ll tell her,” Hoyt repeated. “It’s the least I can do.”

After everything he’s done. After everything that’s happened. This is the least he can do.

—------------------

Two funerals within a year. That was a new record for Emily. First her soulmate, then her best friend. Both taken far too soon in such violent ways. She felt like the unfortunate main character of a soap opera.

It didn’t help that Hoyt was avoiding her. After the call where he told her what happened to Geri, he’d barely spoken two words to her and he hadn’t come by the house at all. It hurt that he was leaving her alone at a time like this, though she could hazard a guess as to why.

She didn’t get a chance to confront him about it until after the funeral. Everyone came to the Walker ranch for a chance to rest and eat and somehow, they ended up in the kitchen alone.

“It’s not your fault, you know,” she said, grabbing his arm before he had a chance to leave her. Again.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hoyt said. But he didnt’ pull away.

“I know what you’re thinking, Hoyt,” she said. “And it’s not your fault. I don’t blame you and Geri wouldn’t either. Because it’s not your fault.”

“We both know it is, Em.”

“It’s really not.”

Hoyt wrenched his arm out of her grip. “It is!” he whisper-yelled. “It damn well is! You know it and I sure as hell know it! I don’t even see how you can say it’s not!”

“Hoyt-”

“I’m the one that worked with those bastards! I pissed them off! I gave them a reason to come after me! I gave them a reason to hurt her!”

“Maybe but that’s not-” Emily glanced out of the kitchen to make sure no one was watching and then dragged him out to the back porch.

“I don’t know why you’re even trying to have this conversation,” Hoyt griped. “Everyone in there blames me.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” Emily snapped. “I don’t blame you. The kids don’t blame you. Neither does Abby.” Bonham probably did but he’d always been a little rough on Hoyt so it wasn’t worth arguing over. “The only one blaming you is you and you need to stop it because I-” she let out a shuddering breath. “I can’t lose you too.”

Hoyt deflated and sat on the porch bench, head in his hands.

Emily sat next to him and hugged him. “You didn’t kill her,” she whispered. “Maybe you didn’t make the smartest choices but you didn’t pull that trigger. You did everything you could to keep her out of harm’s way.” Emily hugged him tighter. “I know this hurts a lot right now and it’s going to be a long time before you forgive yourself, but I’ll be here until you do.”

Hoyt said nothing. He just quietly sobbed into his hands. And Emily sat by him until it was time for them to go back inside.

—-------------

It took less than a week for Hoyt to decide on his next move. Maybe Geri’s death wasn’t his fault entirely, but he had a part to play in it. It was time for him to start making up for his mistakes.

“Hoyt, you really don’t have to do this.”

He glared up at James. “It’s the right thing to do, Captain. The only thing I can do right now. It’s about time I start taking this life seriously.”

James sighed. “Alright. I can’t guarantee you’ll get full immunity but with the information you’re willing to hand over, you’ll get a good deal.”

“I’m not doing this to get myself out of trouble, Cap. I just want a little justice.”

James nodded. “Right. Just make sure you leave the work to the justice system, alright? You’ve got people that would like to see you walk out of prison again one day.”

“I know.” As much as he’d love to shank the bastards that did this to Geri (he had a pretty good idea of who exactly pulled the trigger too), he wouldn’t do that to Emily. They were all each other had now. “Now, how do we do this? I’m not used to actually giving up information during these things…”

“Well, it’s a lot like normal, except you’re actually going to answer the questions I ask you. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

—----------------

Hoyt ended up getting one year in prison. It would’ve been much longer for all the charges brought against him, but giving up his cohorts helped reduce his sentence by a lot.

On the day of his release, Emily was waiting outside the prison for him. The rest of the family was putting together a little surprise party for him at the ranch. She smiled as he walked out of those doors for the last time and held out her arms for a hug.

It felt good, knowing he would be around for more of these.

She pulled back, sliding her hands down his arms. “How does it feel? Being out for good?” she asked.

Hoyt hummed. “Weird. But good. Really, really good.”

She smiled. “Good. Come on; everyone’s waiting for you. Yes, even Bonham. He’s been working the grill all day.”

Hoyt chuckled. “Now that, I have to see.” He squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Em.”

“Of course; what are friends for?”

—----------

Hoyt hadn’t been expecting a full on welcome back party. But, considering how well he knew the Walkers, he probably should have.

It wasn’t a big bash, just an intimate affair with the family. It was nice to see them like this. Happy. Smiling. Laughing.

There were two people missing but Hoyt was in a good enough mood to overlook that for now.

Emily pulled him aside as the party wound down a bit. “I got you a present,” she said, putting a small box in his hands.

“Aw, Em, you shouldn’t have. I don’t need anything.”

She rolled her eyes. “Just open it, Rawlins.”

He chuckled and opened the box. Inside, there was a set of keys and a set of papers. He glanced at Emily before skimming the papers. He didn’t understand everything but he saw the LLC the Side Step was listed under. “Em?”

“You don’t have to accept it,” she said. “But I think this would be a good start for your new life. I’m managing it right now but it’s not something I can do forever, even with the help I have, and…. I think it’s what Geri would want.”

He lifted the keys from the box and gingerly held them in his hand. “What do you mean you’re managing it?” he asked, mostly to distract the conversation from himself.

Emily nodded. “Geri left it to me. Well, technically she left it for any potential future children but I was the secondary. I’ve been handling the admin with help from Abby and some of the more experienced workers but…. I think it’d be good for you.”

Hoyt hummed. “Are you sure? I’m not exactly a businessman. Spent most of my life doing pretty much the opposite.”

“Yeah, but you’ve left that behind for good. And you need a job anyway.” She shrugged. “Maybe this is just nepotism, but I think you’d be good at it. You know your alcohol, you’re a good salesman and you know how to get along with business partners, and you’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for. And you know we’ll all help you if you need it. I know you can do this. If you want to.”

Hoyt closed his hand around the keys. “Well, I don’t have as much confidence as you do but…. I’ll give it a shot.”

Emily smiled and hugged him. “I knew you’d love it.”

He wrapped his arms around her, a warmth blossoming inside him that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

—------

Somehow, in the middle of everything, they both missed that they were falling in love all over again.

It was only natural that they grew closer, of course. Hoyt had officially moved in with her after he got out of jail and she took time off work to help him take over the Side Step. Spending almost all hours of the day with someone would only naturally lead to them growing closer. And they were already quite close to begin with, so it really wasn’t that far of a leap.

Maybe that was why neither of them noticed it until they both took the plunge. 

It happened on the one year anniversary of Hoyt going straight. Emily had insisted on doing a little celebration but Hoy didn’t want to make a big deal of it so it was just the two of them at the Side Step after closing. “I still think you’re downplaying how big of a deal this is,” Emily said in between sips of beer. “I mean, a whole year without being in jail is a record in and of itself. And I don’t think you’ve been in one place for this long since we graduated high school. You should be proud of that.”

He shrugged. “I’m just catching up with everyone else. And I think you are downplaying how much you helped me get here. If anyone should be celebrated tonight, it’s you.”

“Well, maybe we can both be celebrated.” Emily clinked her glass against his before pushing off from the table and going over to the jukebox.

“What are you doin, Em’?”

She picked a song and fed a coin into the machine. “We’re celebrating, aren’t we?” She sauntered back over as the music played. “Dance with me, Rawlins.”

Hoyt chuckled and stood up, taking her hand and twirling her. “Who am I to deny such a polite request?”

They were just playing around. Nothing wrong with a dance between friends. But when the right song is playing and you’ve got a little too much alcohol in your system, sometimes you realize the man you're dancing with is more than just a friend to you. So maybe you put your arms around his neck and get up on your toes and kiss him. And maybe he kisses you back. And maybe you do a lot more kissing and very little talking for the rest of the night and you don’t even really think about what it all means until it’s morning.

So, Emily made breakfast, sent the kids off to school, and cornered Hoyt before he went to work. “We need to talk.”

“Too early to talk,” Hoyt muttered into his coffee.

“Too bad, we need to.” She pushed him into a chair and stood in front of him. “We need to talk about last night.”

“You mean about the fact that we kissed and probably would’ve fucked if we’d had a little more alochol in our system.”

Sometimes Emily appreciated Hoyt’s bluntness. Now was not one of those times. “Well- Yes. We need to talk about that and decide what happens next.”

He sighed and put his coffee mug down. “Look, I get it. You regret it. I’m sorry too. Now we can drop it and pretend it never happened.”

“Hoyt- That’s not what I was trying to say!” Emily crossed her arms. “First of all, I haven’t regretted kissing a boy since Rodney in 8th grade and we both know that wasn’t a kiss I initiated. Secondly, I’m not sorry at all for kissing you last night. I’m just sorry it happened the way it did. I- We needed to talk first.”

“About what?”

“About wh- About us! About our history and what this means! I mean- We- We’ve been friends forever, you dated my best friend, I married yours! And what does this mean for our future? How are the kids going to react? Or Abby and Bonham? Or-”

“Breath, darlin’.” Hoyt smothered any other words she had to say in a hug and she couldn’t help but melt into it. He rubbed her back until she calmed down a bit.

“First off, I don’t regret it either. Second, I don’t know how everyone’s gonna react. But I don’t think I really care. I think we do what’s best for us, Em.”

She sighed. “I mean- maybe we don’t need their approval or whatever but we still have to tell them. And… it might be weird.”

Hoyt kissed the top of her head. “So let it be weird. I believe some wonderful, beautiful, smart woman once said that ‘things don’t have to be good to be good’….”

Emily laughed. “Did she now? Tell me more….”

They would have to tell everyone. But they could do that later. It was nice, just being in this bubble where they were the only things that mattered.

—-------

They had to tell the kids first. Emily was adamant about that. “We need to know if they’re okay with it first and figure out what to do if they’re not.” It honestly hadn’t occurred to Hoyt that they wouldn’t be okay with it, but now he was terrified of that happening.

They decided to just talk to the kids one night after dinner. Nothing special, nothing crazy, no need to freak them out.

“Is something going on?” August asked as they moved to the living room. “You two are being weird.”

“Nothing bad happened,” Emily said gently. “We just have something we want to talk to you about. Please, sit.”

The kids sat on the couch, watching them apprehensively.

They’d talked a bit about what to say, but none of the words seemed right. Hoyt was planning on just letting Emily take the lead on this one.

“Well…” she started. “You guys know your Uncle Hoyt and I have been friends for a long time-”

“Just friends. Real good friends.”

Emily side eyed him but continued. “We’ve gotten…closer over the last couple years. Losing your dad and Aunt Geri…. It was hard. But we supported each other.”

On impulse, Hoyt grabbed her hand. It was half a way to hide how his were shaking and half a way to show his support. And maybe hint as to where this conversation was going.

“What I’m trying to say is… A lot has happened and… We’ve decided to start dating.”

There was a long moment of silence that stretched on far too long. Hoyt squeezed Emily’s hand, praying this went over well.

“Is…. Is that what you needed to tell us?” Stella asked.

Emily nodded. “I know this is weird for you guys but-”

Stella interrupted her. “Mom, you know…. We don’t really care. You’re happier with Hoyt than you’ve been since Dad…. And we’re happy for you.”

August nodded. “Yeah. You make each other happy and… we’re just happy to see you happy.”

“And we kind of already figured you were,” Stella added.

“What?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, you live together-”

“-and if you’re not here at the house you’re both usually at the Side Step-”

“-and you’re both kind of touchy with each other-”

“-which we’re totally cool with,” August finished.

Well. At least they didn’t have to worry about that. “I guess you should stop calling me ‘Uncle’ Hoyt then.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

—----------

They had the approval of the family. But there were two more people they needed to talk to.

“Hey, Cordi.” Emily sat in front of his headstone. She picked a flower from a nearby patch of wildflowers nearby and set it on top. “It’s been a while since I came here. I’ve been busy.”

She sighed. “I may as well just come out with it.Hoyt and I…. We’re seeing each other. Romantically. Never thought I’d say that,” she said with a chuckle. “But… here we are.”

She  traced a pattern in the grass. “I know I don’t have to ask you for your blessing or anything but… It just seemed like the right thing to do.” Emily kissed her hand, then pressed it to the top of Cordell’s grave. “I love you. So much. And I miss you so, so much. I’m not- I could never forget you I just… I need to move on.”

A gust of wind blew past her, pushing the flower off of the headstone and into her lap.

She chuckled. “I guess that’s you telling me to get on with it, huh?”

She should’ve known he would understand.

“Goodby, Cordi.”

[ironpatriot2099]

Bad to the bone

story inspired by the chapter of the same name of power ranger jungle fury.

Today has been a horrible day, first I had to take care of everything in the pizzeria because I don't know how to say no, I faced an attack by a greasy pig monster, then my friends laugh at my good girl attitude and to top it off there was an attack by a porcupine monster that pierced me with many painful thorns, what else can go wrong today.

time later at the base

well lily I think that was the last thorn, do you feel any more they are poisonous you have to remove them all

-I still feel one that RJ didn't remove, but the sensation it causes in my body feels incredible- no that's all I'm fine

relax lily it's only for your health

Don't meddle in what you don't care about little blue balls

wow relax lily that was really rude, I think you owe Theo an apology

you are also with me

giving orders today, I'm tired of your pathetic complaints, well I'm out of here.

It feels good to no longer listen to the moans of those assholes for not behaving like a good idiot, two shoes for a change, what's more, I don't want to be that kind of girl anymore. I like to be bad and I won't change for any bastard, but not seeing me I look like a bad girl in these stupid martial arts pajamas I'm wearing, need to make some style changes.

a theft of a motorcycle and new clothes, later

Lily with her new style went to have fun like a bad girl at a biker bar, after the fifth beer she felt that she was missing something, which she would soon satisfy

This is life, without anyone telling me what to do.

hello baby I saw you here alone drinking and she asked me if you want to join me to have fun.

Lily was going to fuck the subject but when she realized how sexy he was  and the big bundle that she kept in her pants she decided to accept his offer

It will be a pleasure, stud

in less than 5 minutes lily and the biker were fucking loud and rude in the bathroom

ah ah ah, that she feels good, come on, stick it harder, she destroys my pussy with your cock

I had never met a virgin as whore as you

Ah, ah, well I'm not a stupid virgin anymore thanks to you.

They continued like this for a couple of hours, without realizing that her morpher was ringing constantly, after they finished Lily kissed her new fuck friend goodbye and added him to her contacts, only to see all the missed calls from his morpher

apparently the pair of useless can't do anything without me, I think I have to go help them... after buying weed and getting some tattoos and piercings

When Lily arrived at the battlefield, she only found the porcupine monster badly wounded and her two friends dead.

pathetic, well it's time to finish the job these two couldn't, well thorny it's time to have fun pulling out your thorns.

After doing her job and removing their morphers from the corpses of the dis ex-ragers, Lily returned to the base.

Lily, where have you been, I'm very worried, I can't contact the boys, because they're not with you and what happened to you because you look like that, you look like a criminal, answer me

Already fed up with Fran's moans, in one quick movement I nailed one of the monster's thorns.

Don't worry, Fran, it hurts at first, but soon you'll see life like me.

and as lily said, soon fran became a mean biker like her.

After breaking her kiss between them, Lily gave the red morpher to Fran.

ok cutie now you're the red ranger my red ranger it's time to take this world for ourselves and mold it in my image we just have to find whoever is blue and i have the perfect stud for that.

While Lily called the cell phone of the guy who fucked her to recruit him and have a night of wild sex for the three of them, humanity could not imagine the dark fate that lies ahead at the hands of these three.

End

[wyllwithay]

Bored, so have an OC dump for Piánzi

He is, first and foremost, a little shit

And also a trans man

But he never really had a profound realization he was a boy, he just always was one

He wasn't really Baldurian, but he knew the underbelly locals

He mostly did solo transport work for different criminal networks, but never mixed jobs

They all knew that he did good work and didn't share secrets

He made it known that he didn't make solid alliances, and would work for any guild with coin

Never really had family, just himself. His closest friends were the city scavengers (rats and cats and the occasional raccoon)

Is not good at making decisions

He has a self-centered attitude, but if he cares for a person then no one will touch them

Not that he'd admit to that

Would've been an easy target for any of the spawn but the rats told him it was a bad idea

Would've slept with Halsin with no hesitation if he hadn't been seeing Wyll

Tried to subtly ask Lae'zel for stories about her people because he liked the passion with which she told them

Loved swapping gossip with Astarion about everyone and everything (in elvish of course)

Wanted to hate-fuck Wyll the moment they first spoke to each other

Snuggles with Karlach because she's soooo warm and he feels safe with her

Pretends not to listen to Gale but keeps asking questions anyways

Helps Shadowheart to braid her hair as long as she helps him with his

Never thought the 'lone wolf' thing fit him

Definitely has a secret criminal name (The Foxclaw Bandit) but it never caught on

Told it to Wyll when they got drunk together one night

Definitely didn't fall for Wyll when he jokingly called him by it later

Definitely didn't take several months of traveling with Wyll to admit to those feelings

Let's people see him as a criminal and petty thief because he doesn't know how to be seen as anything else

Didn't have a childhood because he purposely buried it

All he knows is an orphanage, a farm, and running as fast as he could

He doesn't really remember much else

He has scars on his face an neck but no memory of how they got there

He will not admit that he's a hopeless romantic that wants a night in shining armor to sweep him off his feet

He pretends not to care about kids but will do everything in his power to protect them

After the illithid events he thought he would go off on his own to reconnect with nature for a bit

Didn't realize Wyll would be tagging along

Helps teach Wyll about being a ranger without the aid of Warlock powers

He can't feel comfortable when people look at him and see a hero

Definitely read Robin Hood type books in the libraries all his life and liked to try to be that person

Got arrested multiple times trying to rob the rich

Known by other criminals for having an easy going personality and being willing to concede gold as long as they have a fun story to tell

Doesn't have a home anywhere in the city

When he needs to rest he goes outside of it

Has a secret tree fort hidden along the banks of the Chionthar about a mile outside of the city limits

The first night they arrived in Baldur's Gate he slipped away just to sit in his old home and realize just how lonely he was

He returns with his copy of Robin Hood and a bit of gold

He tries to lay in his own bedroll

Somehow he wakes up next to Wyll anyways

[cobalttestament]

Tarathiel Character Intro

There's two versions of Tara's story, but they both begin in the same place.

Awakening late into the Cycle of Dusk, Tara was somewhat more withdrawn than most of her cohort, valuing time with others but rarely seeking it out. She was known for her regal bearing and fierce independent streak, briefly flirting with the Nightmare Court before quickly realizing that the way they treat their supposed lessers is far worse than the coddling of the Pale Mother.

As the undead threat to Caledon grew too large for her to ignore, Tara picked up a dagger and fought for the first time, deadly and untouchable as she seemed to dance with the elements around her. Her talent recognized, she was swiftly referred to the Vigil despite her protests, being placed under the tutelage of a gruff old warmaster who for all his efforts never could instill discipline into her. She had her respect for him, but she chaffed under the military structure of the Vigil, and quickly gave up her position, returning to Caledon.

A few weeks later, she was enlisted by a ranger in her cohort to rescue some animals from an Inquest experimentation lab. She instantly fell in love with one of the rescues, a red panda she calls Red but swears that that isn't his name. She feigns annoyance at the trouble he's always getting into, but can't hold back a smile whenever he's being silly.

As the campaign against the undead ramped up, Tara found herself unable to sit still when others were risking their lives, distinguishing herself at the Battle of Claw Island despite her lack of membership with any of the orders. She was invited to the meeting held afterwards, unexpectedly nominated as Commander of the Pact. She physically flees the meeting, terrified of the weight of that authority. Here is where the timeline splits. In one, another hero of the battle becomes the Commander. Tara falls into a slump, ashamed of herself for running away, from the pact and from the vigil. Unable to bear the judgment of those around her, she begins to travel the world, eventually coming across a troublingly named but friendly group hunting down wanted criminals in the Harathi Hinterlands. These self proclaimed Liars Cheats and Thieves took her in, she found a place for herself within it's much looser structure, acting along side but not directly under the command of the Pact in many of the crises that plagued Tyria. She finds this life enjoyable but not fulfilling, and finds herself longing for something more than the mercenary pay and casual friends she has with the Liars. In the other, Almorra and Trahearne follow her all the way to one of her old haunts in Caledon, and plead with her to take on this role that nobody else but her could possibly fill. Reluctantly, and with dread in her heart, she accepts. Tara, not the least because she expected to be, makes for a terrible Commander. She is rash, hyper-aware of the gap in competence between her and the combatants she commands, and vague when communicating, often frustrated with others failing to quickly grasp things she finds intuitive. She fights alone more often than not, often radio silent long enough to frustrate those around her. More than once she's tried to abandon the role, but keeps getting dragged back into it by her own guilt, the tempers of those around her shorter and shorter every time. This escalated after her death at the hands of Balthazar and subsequent revival, coming to truly resent the position she finds herself in but unable to resign from it. Aurene is the one bright spot in her life, and she cares fiercely for the dragon as a daughter.

In both timelines, Tarathiel has mastered all elementalist disciplines but prefers the style of a Weaver as it fits most with her dancer's grace in battle. She often wonders if she'd be happier having never picked up a blade, and holds a special resentment against the Risen for leading her down the path of war. She has a regal but unpretentious air about her, a loud voice but not an unkind one. She can often be found in Arborstone or around the Lion's Arch fountains when she's not hiding in her secluded places or out fighting for the sake of the world.

[laresearchette]

Saturday, October 07, 2023 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: 3 BED, 2 BATH, 1 GHOST (W Network) 8:00pm BUYING BACK MY DAUGHTER (Lifetime Canada) 8:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT? DEADLY HONEYMOONS (TBD - Investigation Discovery) HEARTLAND DOCS, DVM (TBD - Nat Geo Wild)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA ONE FIGHT NIGHT 15: TAWANCHAI VS. SUPERBON TALE OF THE NINE TAILED

CRAVE TV TRAITORS: CANADA (Season 1, Episode 1)

NETFLIX CANADA STRONG GIRL NAM-SOON

MEN’S RUGBY WORLD CUP (TSN4) 11:45am: England vs. Samoa (TSN4) 3:00pm: Ireland vs. Scotland

MLB BASEBALL (SN) 1:00pm: ALDS - Rangers vs. Orioles - Game 1 (SN) 4:30pm: ALDS - Twins vs. Astros - Game 1 (SN1) 6:00pm: NLDS - Phillies vs. Atlanta - Game 1 (SN) 9:00pm: NLDS - Diamondbacks vs. Dodgers - Game 1

NHL HOCKEY (TSN4) 7:00pm: Leafs vs. Red Wings (TSN5) 7:00pm: Habs vs. Sens

CFL FOOTBALL (TSN) 7:00pm: Ti-Cats vs. Roughriders

MLS SOCCER (TSN3) 7:30pm: CF Montreal vs. Portland

CRIME BEAT: MOST WANTED (Global) 7:30pm: Daniel Tomassetti is the final suspect in a pair of murders; he and two other men were wanted for two first-degree murders in a case that ignited a mob war and destroyed an innocent woman's family; Mila Barberi was killed picking up her boyfriend.

ABSOLUTELY CANADIAN (CBC) 8:00pm

A TOWN CALLED LOVE (City TV) 8:00pm: Emma needs to prove herself to her boss, the owner of a series of travel books. However, when she butts heads with the mayor's son while on a mission to scout out a town called Love, she decides to impersonate her boss to teach him a lesson.

LOVE ON THE REEF (Super Channel Heart & Home) 8:00pm: A smart and serious marine biologist and a fun-loving and laissez-faire dive instructor must team up to save their beloved reef from being destroyed before it's too late.

GUY'S ALL-AMERICAN ROAD TRIP (Food Network Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): The Fieris and their caravan kick off their Appalachian road trip with amazing "Triple-D" food trucks; a dairy farm visit turns into an ice cream contest; everyone dives into an epic campground feast and real deal barbecue is served at an old prison.

PLANE (Crave) 9:00pm: Pilot Brodie Torrance saves passengers from a lightning strike by making a risky landing on a war-torn island. When dangerous rebels take the passengers hostage, Torrance seeks help from an accused murderer who was being transported by the FBI.

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH (HBO Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): While Stede adjusts to his new normal, a heartbroken Blackbeard fills the void with daily raids, sparking concern amongst Izzy and the crew.

THE BLACKENING (Starz Canada) 9:00pm: A group of old college friends reunite for a Juneteenth weekend getaway, only to find themselves trapped in a remote cabin with a twisted killer. Forced to play by his rules, they soon realize this isn't a game.

ARKANSAS (Super Channel Fuse) 9:00pm: A series of mistakes leads to a deadly collision between two criminals and a drug kingpin in Arkansas.

BATMAN: THE DOOM THAT CAME TO GOTHAM (adult swim) 10:00pm: Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham City and learns of a sinister doomsday cult planning its destruction. Bruce must don the mantle of Batman to fight against ancient magic foes and fiery demons while guarding his sanity against the Old Gods' corruption.

THE GRAHAM NORTON SHOW (BBC First) 11:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Kylie Minogue, Stephen Graham

[kimberlyannharts]

So im guessing you like our lil Liv' ( i love her btw) thoughts about how it might go? Why is jason doing the road warrior version of Red ranger? What are the other three up too? Is Trini still alive or is Minh around? Honestly think its going to be really good.. Mora's art continues to knock it out of the park for the sheer beauty of it. Also I just love your lil art pieces with Minh and Oliva. Thank you so much!

My assumption is that the final Moon battle led to Tommy and Trini's deaths/disappearances, and when the team disbanded, Jason was the only one to continue Rangering out of a sense of guilt/duty/whatever. We'll have to see if there's actually any legit bad guys after Rita and Zedd were defeated or if he's just wandering the earth fighting regular criminals. We know from the Re-Imagine prologue that Kim changed her name and moved to Canada for some reason, and Billy and Zack's current whereabouts are a mystery; though the implication does seem to be that the guys kept in contact while Kim cut herself off completely as the solicit describes it as Billy and Zack giving the news that Jason's disappeared. It's super exciting to realize there's so much we don't know!

(and thank you!!!!)

[blujaydoodles]

what are some of the inspirations for your dnd ocs?

OH interesting question!! Although I think my answers are mostly not very interesting, ahaha ^^;; Elyss was my first 5e character-- I'd always wanted to play a ranger! It's hard to draw a straight line to any specific inspiration there tbh; being interested in animals and the outdoors, wilderness survival, and archery all just happen to be things that have been a part of what I'm like as a person for nearly as long as I can remember, so playing a very classic flavored ranger was a natural extension of all of that. A somewhat more superficial but much more specific detail is that I was inspired to make her a water genasi by the way light creates patterns through ripples underwater: when I found out what a genasi was, I thought it'd be really cool if a water genasi had skin that looked like that.

IDRI was inspired by me wondering about sleight of hand magic in a world with real literal magic-- what role would that play, how would the setting shape the staging and patter for the performance, what would the response be from laypeople and from legitimate practitioners? Then I realized that would be a great backstory for a rogue, and that 'performer in a circus' would give you access to nearly every single rogue feature without having to have a criminal background, and I got really excited by the concept and built it out immediately

Earlier in October I posted about Juniper being partly inspired by Milo Thatch from Atlantis: The Lost Empire :D Otherwise she came from me thinking about motivations for adventuring that aren't either trauma or treasure driven; I wanted her to be adventuring because she wants to, so I made a mapmaker who would be equally excited to travel anywhere the story or the other PCs' personal quests take us

Aubree was built entirely around 'what if... Small sized fighter riding a boar', hahah. Nyssa is mostly just inspired by-- and an outlet for-- my long-running love of satyrs, and my own culture/ worldbuilding for them; her voice and cadence are inspired by Evanna Lynch's performance of Luna Lovegood. Admittedly my halfling bard Kethri was mostly me going 'okay what's this party likely to need 🤔' because her campaign has a lot of first time players ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ambrose and Melliwyk were both initially inspired more than anything by their campaign settings! In both cases I was sort of in a '... I really cannot be in another campaign,' and then the DM was like 'here's the overview for my rich and intriguing setting and where the plot might take you' and I was like WELP!! guess I have to design a character around how badly I wanna sink my teeth into all of that!!! On a slightly similar note, Tsakesh is my Skyrim boi and he was mostly inspired by the way that I like to play Skyrim ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Most of the inspiration for Felix is literally just 'what are all the things I like or that would make me happy to play' tbh lmao. Rogues are my favorite class, so he's a rogue! I love animals and love that dnd lets you talk to animals, so he's actually going to do that! I love lore and solving mysteries, so that's gonna be his whole thing! etc etc.

A tl;dr answer, which feels like a really boring one, is that a lot of the inspiration behind almost all of my OCs is just... my own thoughts on worldbuilding, or race/ culture, or some other thing specific to the character 😅 I'm very much more inspired by Aesthetics and Concepts and Ideas than anything specific I could say 'oh, yeah, This Character' or 'This Story' or whatever. Like, Mel is mad scientist flavored, but not in a way that's direct enough or intentional enough that I could say 'I was inspired By This Or That', you know?

Anyway, thank you for asking!!

[forgedroyalseal]

My Reputation’s Never Been Worse

Chapter Five:

For a moment, they just stared. All eyes on Will. But Will’s flitted across from face to face. Crowley’s face had thinned, and there were more wrinkles in his forehead than Will had remembered being there. Gilan’s hair had grown out more than he had ever let it before. And Halt looked… tired. Face weighted down and eyes sunken in. Hair grayer and messier. They all looked different. Older. Sadder. Will wondered what he must look like to them. He knew that his appearance was closer to the fashions of a rouge or a pirate (that’s what a year on a ship will do to you) than the clean cut, boyish look they had been used to. He unconsciously rubbed at the rings on his right hand, an anxious habit. Gilan’s eyes dropped down, catching the motion. Will let his hands drop when he realized. He didn’t want to show weakness. He had to remind in control, on guard.

“Will.” Halt’s voice was hardly more than a whisper, but in the thick silence, it might as well have a shout. His hand reached up to touch Will’s cheek, as if to prove to himself that he was real and not a figment of his grieving imagination. Like with the king, Will leaned away. Hurt cut across Halt’s face but Will remind unaffected.

Let him hurt. The words flashed in his mind, fast and hot, like a bolt of lighting. They surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much resentment he had been feeling towards Halt until he was finally standing face to face with him.

“I am here to speak with Crowley. In private.”

“What? Will you can’t just appear out of thin air after five years and then ask us to leave.” Gilan said aghast.

Will crossed his arms. “I am not here to play catch up. I have information that I need to brief Crowley on before we meet with the king later.”

“We are all rangers Will. There’s no reason Gilan and Halt should have to leave.” Crowley said calmly.

Will’s nose scrunched at the word rangers, “Fine if they refuse to leave then I have no other option.”And then without skipping a beat, Will dove into explaining the situation, not giving the rangers even a moment to adjust to the sudden turn of events. Crowley and Gilan listened intently, but Halt couldn’t hear a word Will was saying. His mind was completely focused on the fact that the grown, intense, angry man standing in front of him was the boy he had trained and raised. His apprentice. Who looked and acted more like a criminal than a ranger. What happened to him?

When Will finished speaking, Gilan and Crowley looked at each other in disbelief.

“So, you are here to ask Duncan to interfere?” Crowley clarified. Will nodded.

“This is the kind of thing the local ranger should have taken care of.” Gilan furrowed his brow. “Why isn’t he doing his job?”

“He’s on the Baron’s payroll. A bit of silver in his pocket is apparently all it takes to get him to turn a blind eye.”

“This is unacceptable. He’s a king’s ranger! His duty is to the throne, not some random baron!” Gilan huffed.

Will rolled his eyes, “This is typical behavior of rangers. They do whatever the hell they want with zero consequences.”

Crowley looked at Will, “You know that rangers like this are few and far between Will. We are rangers. You are friends with many rangers. You are a ranger.”

Will scoffed, “For the past five years rangers have chased me up and down the country like a rabid dog they need to put down. Harrison forced me out of Norgate, after he threaten Malcolm and his people. Bernard tried to kill me when he found me holed up at an inn in Coledale. Conway actually caught me in Greenfield. He put an arrow through my hip and tied me up after I fell. I’m not sure what his plan was, but he left me in the stable overnight and I slipped out of the binds by dislocating my thumb. I had to run for miles on my injured leg, that’s why it’s busted now, I put too much strain on it before it could heal. I am not a ranger Crowley. I haven’t been one since you forced me out of my home and tried to have me killed.

Crowley’s face lost it’s color. “I-“ He took a deep breath before starting again, “I sent letters to every ranger explaining your innocence. They shouldn’t have-“

“But they did.”Will interrupted coldly. “After they way you took me? Dragged my name through the mud and publicly torn my oak leaf from my neck? I was the big bad wolf who betrayed his King and got away with it because he was good at making the right kind of friends.” Running a hand through his hair he said, “This was a massive waste of time. I should have just taken matters into my own hands weeks ago. I’m going back to Eisel. I want something done, so I’m going to do it myself.”

“Will, what are you going to do?” Crowley called after him.

“I’m going to cleanse the streets of Eisel. Even if I have to do it with blood.”

______________________________

Horace and Gilan chased after Will.

“Wait, Will let’s talk about this. Duncan and Crowley will help. Just wait!” Gilan called. Will spun on his heel.

“Why should I trust what they say? For all we know, they were both already well aware of the situation and were just letting it happen.”

“You knew that’s not true, the would never have allowed-“ Horace started.

“They would have never have allowed me to be hung? To be humiliated? To be imprisoned for a crime I didn’t commit? They proved years ago that we cannot trust them.”

“What they did to you sucked. Okay? It was a nightmare. They know they were wrong and they will have to live with their actions for the rest of their lives. But don’t let the people of Eisel suffer because you had to. Let Crowley and Duncan fix this. Even though they couldn’t fix what happened to you.” Gilan begged.

“Listen to him Will. If you can’t trust them, trust us. We are your brothers Will. No matter how much you try to push us away, you aren’t going to lose you again. So stay, let Crowley and the king clean up this mess.” Horace’s voice was rough with emotion.

Will sighed. “I don’t know how to be here, with everyone.”

“I can’t imagine how difficult this is. But please don’t run away from us again. If you don’t want to stay in the Castle, then we can go somewhere else. We can stay at the Inn, or we can go to Redmont. It’s your call, you are in control. Just know though, Horace and I will follow you to the ends of the earth.” Gilan smiled and Will knew that despite the joking tone, he was dead serious.

“Okay. Okay. I will give Crowley a chance to fix this. But if I think for even a moment that he is going to let it go then-“

“Then the three of us will take matters into our own hands.” Horace promised.

“Now that we have that settled,” Gilan pulled Will into to a bear hug. “I’ve missed you little brother.” He said softly. Unable to resist a good hug, Horace joined in, wrapping his arms around both of them.

Will flinched slightly when Gilan reached for him, but immediately sunk into the embrace. He had missed Gilan. He had missed how safe he had always felt with him. Ever since he had been fifteen, Gilan had felt like a safety net, ready to catch him if he fell. It had been a long time since Will had felt safe, but here, with Gilan and Horace now both surrounding him, he felt as if he could finally stop looking over his shoulder. For just a moment, Will let himself let go of the pain and fear and anger he had been consumed by for so long and allowed himself to feel safe and loved.

[mcknighted]

[ Scott Eastwood, male, he/him ] whatever you think you know about ROWAN MCKNIGHT, the 35 year old, ABROSEXUAL, LOCAL, it is likely time for you to start reconsidering. the rumored WENDIGO is often described as SINCERE + FORGIVING, but don’t let them fool you; they can also be ALOOF + COMBATIVE, which often has them regarded as the BEAST. they are a PARK RANGER at CREATION RIVER PARK, but it’s also said they are a ROGUE RESIDENT. whatever you hear, you can’t deny there’s more to them that meets the eye, and it’s time we start uncovering the truth.

Demographics

Name: Rowan Leigh McKnight.

Age: 35

Sex/Gender: Male

Ethnicity: Caucasian.

Occupation: Park Ranger

Socioeconomic status: Lower middle class.

Education: Some college; criminal justice.

Physical Appearance

Eye color: Blue/green.

Skin color: light tan. 

Hair color: brown.

Height: 6’ 4’’.

Weight: 185.

Body type: muscular.

Tattoos: “momento” on his right leg above the knee, “mori” above the left knee in similar position, melting smiley faces on both feet. In American traditional style, a growling wolf on his right shoulder facing into his chest, and on the left in a similar style is a growling leopard. 

Scars/Birthmarks: a decent amount of long white scars from claws, as he says, though they were probably knives. 

History

Birth date: May 1st.

Place of birth: Creation Peaks.

Key family members: two living parents, John and Michelle, two sisters, Poppy and Grace, and a younger brother, Alder.

Notable events/milestones: realized in his teen years that his parents didn't pay a lot of attention to their kids, wonders often if it's just their nature. Got his welding certificate in high school to support himself while he went to college. Got an associate in criminal justice, considered going to college for Forensic pathology, but decided against it. He didn't want to get someone on his table that he knee, so he decided instead to look into park service, since his hunting ground was the park anyway. 

Criminal record: has a misdemeanor for public intoxication and disorderly conduct.

Affiliations: he tends to stick close to the park earlier in the day, but does venture into town for books, take out, drinks, and has been known to pop into strip clubs and bars on occasion.

Skeletons in the closet: once tried to satiate his appetite with a family dog, and learned pretty quickly that it wouldn't do. He has also accidentally killed and eaten a woman he had a crush on in middle school when his appetite was particularly stretched.

Bio

Rowan was born into a working class family. His father was a truck driver, spending long hours away from home, and his mother was a server. Poppy, his oldest sister, worked at a different restaurant, but similar hours. He typically took care of his same age or younger siblings, doing a lot of the hunting, the killing, and worked with his mom to cover it up. It never got easier for him. Rowan didn’t want to belong to the group of beings he was born into.

Eventually, he was begging for any way out – he tried animals, he tried not eating. Rowan didn’t like how much he enjoyed who he was in the moment, when emotions were flushed away and all that was stretching out in front of him was the path to his next meal. There didn’t seem to be an ethical way to be who he was.

It bled into every part of his life – he would date, and as time went on, he couldn’t hide his true nature. Or, if he could, his partners knew he was lying. Something had to change for Rowan. It was quick and bloody, that change. He’d chosen a lot of things for his life: the simple clothes he wore, the cologne, the truck, the food he kept in his fridge, his job, the books he read. But when he’d shed his skin, when he’d drift off and a strategic, hungry rage would set in, it would choose other things.

On one particular night, late in the summer, when people were usually packing their camping gear away for the summer, a woman and a couple friends stayed in a more remote area of Creations River Park. They were cornered, really. Rowan doesn’t remember any of it, but knows the implications of waking up on a trail in bloodied clothes and finding bones and gear.

Long after he’d gotten rid of the bones, the gear, the torn tents, and any other trace, a missing person’s alert came in for Mariah Coleson. Rowan fretted for a time, vaguely remembering that name. A mutual friend reminded him of her, and the little crush he’d had in sixth grade.

Now, Rowan has nightmares. The wendigo in him makes a toy of him too, just as it would an outside person. He tries not to think about it. He accepts it for what it is, but now, he wouldn’t risk getting close to another living person, because even if they’re long gone, he fears he’ll find them.

—-

Also I’ll probably add to this as play happens.

What’s up, I’m Steph, I’m 27, central time, and I am absolutely down to clown.

[redsamuraiii]

Avataro Sentai Donbrothers (Shinichi Saruhara & Tsuyoshi Kijino)

Pics by paradatemporal, Avataro_Sentai_Donbrothers

Just started watching this Super Sentai and I like the idea that the “Rangers” are not high school students but “working adults” except for ‘Yellow Ranger.’ 

It reminds me of the Super Sentai parody of Jossy's (2014) where the ‘Rangers’ are grown adults struggling between their jobs, their lives and saving the world.

Pic by nobuharuudou

Just a brief introduction of the ‘Rangers’, left to right:

Shinichi Saruhara - Blue Ranger (Saru Brother) - freelancer.

Tsuyoshi Kijino - Pink Ranger (Kiji Brother) - salaryman.

Taro Momoi - Red Ranger (Don Momotaro) - delivery rider.

Haruka Kito - Yellow Ranger (Oni Sister) - school student.

Tsubasa Inuzuka the Black Ranger (Inu Brother) - criminal fugitive.

Come to think of it, it is actually similar to Chōjin Sentai Jetman (1991) where they’re all working adults except for Blue who is a student.

Pic by myshinytoyrobots

Avataro Sentai Donbrothers is like a lighthearted version of Chōjin Sentai Jetman which was darker and also features a student and a criminal.

Anyway, at this point, my two favourite characters are Shinichi Saruhara, the Blue Ranger and Tsuyoshi Kijino, the Pink Ranger. (Top two pics).

Pics by dryedmangoez

I find Tsuyoshi’s character relatable, being an average salaryman who suffers from imposter syndrome and being insecure about everything.

Even though he’s got a ‘proper’ job and a loving wife who loves him as he is, he still feels he is not good enough and wants more.

Pics by tenor

I find Shinichi’s character relatable as well, being on a zen mode, accepting the transience of life and living a simple life without complications.

If I were to watch this years ago when I was a student, I would think Shinichi is a lazy bum but after being weathered by life now I could see his point. 🤪

Does anyone realizes that he has a certain resemblance to Yamashita Tomohisa, who played a monk in ‘From Five to Nine’ with Satomi Ishihara? 😏