#like I have to mail something to Kansas

[bleu-guacamole]

Guess who forgot taxes are do tomorrow and now is frantically running around because they have to tell the government that they don’t owe the government any money but the government already knew I don’t owe them a single fucking cent so who am I doing this for!?!!?

[lightgaswaterelectricityrent]

one of the worst small business practices has got to be the "create the shipping label so they can't say we didn't ship it in a timely manner except we didn't actually take it to the post office for 5 more days"

[wonderjanga]

When Billy was a Newbie

I like to think some of these scenarios happened when Billy was first starting out as a hero.

Villain: *monologging*

Marvel: *doesn’t even let them finish and socks the shit out of them and takes them to the police department*

This happens a good twenty times until one villain has enough.

Villain: *monologging*

Marvel: *about to attack while they’re talking*

Villain: “OKAY WAIT WAIT WAIT, STOP RIGHT THERE YOU BASTARD.”

Marvel: *stops, confused*

Villain: “I know you’re new to this whole thing, but you do realize you’re supposed to let us monologue and tell you our evil plan, right?! You’re not supposed to cut us off!”

Marvel: “I’m not?”

Villain: “No!”

Marvel: “Oh. I’m sorry about that, Mx. Supervillain. I’ll let you and the other ones talk next time.”

Villain: “Wait, really?”

After this, he actually does end up letting them talk and all that.

I also think something like this would happen when he was getting used to fighting crime.

Marvel: *throws one of the big blue mail boxes at some low level, human, emphasis on human, crooks* “Oh… my bad, guys! I was a little too harsh.”

Crooks: *severely injured* “What do you mean ‘your bad’?!?????? That was a little more than harsh!”

Then, there’s the fact I think he wouldn’t care about where he’s saving people. By that I mean, Billy has a lot of free time because he doesn’t go to school. Because of this, you’ll casually see Captain Marvel in flipping Milwaukee helping some people who got into a car crash, then in Orlando helping out with a fire, then in San Jose helping someone who lost their dog. Point is, if there’s someone to help out, he’ll help. Through this, he met Superman actually. Funnily enough, it was while holding up a building.

Marvel: *holding up a building*

Supes: *flies down* “You’re Captain Marvel, right?”

Marvel: “Huh? Uh yeah?” *looks over Superman, seeing his suit and thinking he’s another hero (Billy doesn’t know most heroes because this was when the time bubble recently popped)

Supes: “You need a hand with that?”

Marvel: “Yes, please.”

Supes and Marvel: *work together to move the building to somewhere safe so it won’t hurt anyone*

Marvel: “Thanks.”

Supes: “No problem.”

*awkward silence*

Supes: “If I can ask, what brought you to Metropolis?”

Marvel: “I’m here to fight crime…?” *says like it’s super obvious*

Supes: “Wha? Don’t you have your own city?”

Marvel: “I mean, I guess. Fawcett isn’t really my city though. I just protect it.”

Supes: *blanking and trying to come up with something to say* “Captain, you can’t just go around in other hero’s cities and fight crime for them. It’s a breach of territory.”

Marvel: “It is?”

Supes: “Yes, it is. Honestly, I’m just happy you didn’t do this in Gotham. Batman would’ve been furious.”

Marvel: “Oh. Okay then… so just stick to cities that don’t have heroes?”

Supes: “Well, I guess but don’t you normally-”

Marvel: *beaming smile* “I appreciate the advice, Mr. Superman.”

Supes: “Your…welcome? Wait, what do you mean ‘stick to the cities that don’t have heroes’?”

Marvel: “Oh, well, when crimes slow and nothing’s going on in Fawcett, I kind of just fly around everywhere looking for stuff to do. Just the other day I helped these two old, farmer people, husband and wife, lift their tractor out of some mud.”

Supes: *a little astounded he has that much time on his hands* “Really? Where was that?”

Marvel: “Kansas. I think the town they lived in was Smallville or something?”

Supes: *nearly shits himself* “Ah… I see.”

Then there was the time he met a random Green Lantern. He had no idea what the Lantern Corp were, but any information Solomon gave him made them sound cool though. But you want to know the worst part of this interaction? The Lantern was trying to give Marvel a ring.

Random GL (RGL): *talking about how he wanted to give Billy the ring and yadayadayada*

Marvel: *not even listening due to the Gods talking a whole lot*

Mercury: “BILLY STEAL THE RING!”

Marvel: *saying this out loud* “What? What ring?”

RGL: *confused, says something Billy isn’t paying attention to*

Mercury: “THE RING ON HIS FINGER. KEEP UP WITH THE PROGRAM.”

Marvel: *still talking out loud* “Oh okay okay… how do I do that?”

Solomon: “You are supposed to use your will.”

Marvel: “Huh? Solomon there’s no way that’ll wor…” *trails off as he wills the ring off the lantern’s finger* “I take back what I said.”

RGL: *starts to fall*

Marvel: “Holy moly!” *rushes down to catch him*

RGL: “Earthling what the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that??!?”

Marvel: “I’m sorry! The voices has told me to.” *gives them back their ring*

RGL: *flies off grumbling how he’s a psychopath*

Then there was when Marvel joined the Justice League. When he got the communicator, he put it in his pocket dimension and promptly forgot about it.

Marvel: “The Justice League hasn’t contacted me. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong…”

Meanwhile…

Batman: “This is like the third meeting he’s missed, Clark.”

Supes: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! He didn’t seem like the type to skip out on meetings. He talked like he had a bunch of free time.”

WW: “You should go talk to him. You are the one who invited him.”

Supes: *sighs* “I will.”

Back in Fawcett…

Marvel: *helping a cat down from a tree*

Supes: *flies down when he sees him* “Captain! Can we talk?”

Marvel: *hands cat back to its owner* “Mr. Superman. Of course! I’ve actually had something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you too.”

Supes: “Right, well I guess I’ll cut straight to the point. Is there a reason you haven’t shown up to the last meetings?”

Marvel: *stares at him with the most confused face* “Meetings?”

Supes: *confused at Billy’s confusion* “Yes? You get notified on your comm about them.”

Marvel: “Comm… Comm?” *thinking face before recognition flits across his face* “Wait, this thing?” *reaches hand into pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm*

Supes: *slightly horrified when he saw his arm disappear for a moment* “Yeah. That.”

Marvel: *taps comm and sees over 45 unread notifications* “Oh.”

Supes: *wondering how in the world Marvel never checked his comm* “Oh indeed.”

[after-the-end-times]

Ted & Trent and the Drunk Dial

Rating: M 📞 Words: 750 📞 CW: Drunk Ted, Self Hatred, Ted needs therapy (but is shamed out of it) 📞 Tags: Post finale, In Vino Veritas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Tedependent (they're getting there) For @bag-bang Be a Goldfish MicroBang For @duckprintspress May Trope Mayhem-Inherited Curse Ao3 A series of Classic Trope inspired Tedependent vignettes Parts: 1. Just One Bed 2. Accidental Baby 3. Fake Date 4. Drunk Dial

You wanna go to therapy? By yourself? Why?

What’d’you even need therapy for?

Didn’t you get enough time to yourself when you gallivanted off to do soccer for a year?

What, need someone to help you blame me for everything wrong in your life? Or are you blaming Michelle now? Henry?

You’re fine, Ted.

I just...don’t want to end up like Dad. Is that so terrible? A dead drunk who hates himse-

“Sorry, Ted, I’m cutting you off. You got a ride home or need me to call Michelle?” Jim, Ted’s buddy from high school turned favorite bartender, cleared the empty glasses in front of Ted, even pulling the half finished one out of his loose grip.

“No, she’s got Hen. I’ll call Beard- wait, can’t.” Ted pulled out his cellphone and squinted at the bright screen. “Don’t know, I’ll find someone. Thanks Jim, ‘preciate all you do here.”

“Don’t know, Ted. Maybe you could appreciate me a little less. What if we hit up the batting cages this weekend?”

“Would love to, can’t. Mom’s got a thing planned.” Ted knocked his knuckles on the bar top, standing up, only swaying a moment. “See ya.”

“Ted.”

Ted couldn’t take the look of concern etched in Jim’s face and walked out the door. Gotta be bad when even a bartender wants you to go away.

He opened his car door and sat down, feet still solidly on pavement. On autopilot, Ted swiped Beard’s name, tipping sideways against the back of the seat. He closed his eyes, listening to the ringtone until it went to voice mail. He ended the call and stared at the phone blearily. He swiped Trent’s name.

It rang once.

“Ted.”

“Trent.” It finally felt like he could breath. He smiled. “Hi.”

“How are you, Ted?”

“Good. Fine. Drunk. My friend Jim, the bartender, kicked me out. Said he doesn’t want me to come back.”

“Really. Why would he say that?”

“Don’t know.” Ted heaved a sigh. “Jim was around back then, so maybe- I don’t know, maybe he doesn’t want me to end up like my Dad.”

“What happened with your dad, Ted?”

“He killed himself.”

Ted could feel the stunned silence happening in that moment 4,438 miles away.

“Yeeeeah. Hence them panic attacks y’all saw. Didn’t really have them before leaving Kansas, thought they’d go away when I came back, but nope! Guess the doc didn’t fix me like she thought.”

“Fuck Ted. I’m so sorry.”

“Pretty sure, no matter what I do, I’m bound to end up like him. Like father, like son. That’s the eternal curse, right? Can’t fight it. Can’t do anything right. Always letting everyone down. Michelle. Henry. Rebecca. The team. You.”

“You’ve never let me down, Ted. Not once.”

He sighed. “Yeah, I did. Shoulda been better ‘bout your book. It was great. But I was so in my own head, I just- I let you down when you needed me to be kind. When you needed me to care.”

“Stop, Ted. Where are you?”

Ted hummed. “Parking lot. Can’t drive. Least I can do that right.”

“Can you call someone?”

“Did. Beard didn’t pick up and you’re too far away.”

“A cab, Ted. You have the lyft app.”

“Oh. Forgot about them.”

“Call one now, I’ll wait with you.”

Ted pulled up the app and ordered a driver.

“Thank you, Trent. You don’t have to wait, though. It’s morning there, you’re probably doing something. You got the crimmlette this week?”

Trent huffed a laugh. It always warmed Ted’s belly, being able to get him to laugh. “No, she’s with her mum this week. They’re in Wales, visiting family.”

“Aww, well, that sounds like a whale of a time.”

Trent let out a short laughed. “Ted, that was terrible.”

Ted smiled, half asleep against his seat. He hummed. “I miss you, Trent Crimm, Independent.”

Across the line, 4,438 miles away, he heard Trent suck in a breath. “But were ever you happy here, Ted?”

And ain’t the $10,000 question? Was he happier there? Even with the distance from Henry and the panic attacks? Ted hummed, a thinking sound to let Trent know he was there.

“I don’t fit here anymore,” Ted finally said. “We went to the mall last weekend and I called the elevator the lift. Michelle and Henry had a good laugh about that.”

“Well, it does lift you up.”

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Ted felt tears prick his eyes. “Trent, I want- I...”

“Come home, Ted.”

[cas-is-my-angel7]

Hi, I write fanfic novels and this is my first time publishing. This story is called Hunters Academy: Year One. This is a supernatural fan fiction inspired by myself/Castiel/and Claire. It is not accurate to the show, but some elements are kept.

As I’m walking up the sidewalk that leads to my house, I hear something over my shoulder. When I turn around, there is nothing there. I continue to my door and unlock it. On the table, lays the mail, my grandmother must have gotten it before she left for the night. I go to pick it up and a thick gold envelope falls from the pile onto the ground. “What’s this?” I mutter to myself. Opening up the seal I see a weird logo, it’s kind of like a pentagram but has extra symbols. Unsure what it means I pull the papers out. They read, “Congratulations you have been accepted to Huntington Academy in Witchita, Kansas. Please see the information below and show up for your first day this coming Saturday.” I never applied to a college, I was content working as a therapist for autistic children. I pick up my phone and dial Grandma’s number.

“Hello sweetheart, did you just get home?”

“Yeah I did. How is work going?”

“I’m living the dream, Jade. Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, I got this acceptance letter to Huntington Academy. Have you heard of it?”

The other end of the line is quiet for a while.

“Grandma?” I say.

“Yeah sorry sweetheart I’m here. It’s just, that’s where your father went to college. I was thinking about his time there. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it grandma?”

“Your father and mother were hunters. Not for animals though. They hunted the supernatural. Werewolves, shapeshifters, vampires, demons. They’re all real sweetheart. And you are their legacy”

I drop my phone. There is no way what she’s telling me is true. I work with autistic kids. I don’t know how to shoot a gun, use a sword, and I’m definitely in no shape to be a hunter of any kind.

“Are you there Jade?”

“Yeah grandma. I need to go process this information. I’ll talk to you when I get home. If I’m going to do this, for mom and dad, I have to start packing. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I know my mom and dad would’ve wanted me to help.”

~Three Days Later~

My room is not what I expected it to be. One side of the room is bare with beige walls and a twin bed, while the other side is painted a slate grey and has blades and music posters all over the wall. My welcome packet says that my roommate’s name is Claire. Growing up I never had any friends. I was the weird orphan who loved to get swept into fantasy worlds. How am I supposed to go from reading stories where I fell in love with supernatural creatures, to hunting them. Grandma and I had a long conversation when she got home that night. She told me what really happened to my parents. They were hunting a demon named Asmodeus and something happened. They never came home and they were never found. I didn’t expect to grieve my parents again, but that is exactly what happened when my grandma told me, I no longer had the closure I thought I did.

“Oh, hey you must be Jade.” A girl says as she walked into the room. She has long blonde hair that is half braided and is wearing a leather jacket. She has a gun strapped to her thigh and a sword on her back. This has got to be the hottest girl I have ever seen in my life. I just stand there looking at her.

“Demon got your tongue there, Princess?”

I jolt and focus back on her face.

“Uh, yeah that’s me. I’m Jade Winchester. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Winchester? You’re joking. You’re not Sam Winchester’s kid are you?”

I pause. How does she know my dad’s name?

“Yeah I am. Did you know him?”

“Not personally but girl your dad is a legend. Him and his brother are the best hunters there ever was. Since they’ve both been gone, the world has been crawling with the supernatural. I’m glad you’re here maybe you can follow their legacy and help rid the world of monsters.”

Talking about my dad, uncle Dean, the loss and how the world has suffers all became too much. I ran out of the room in search of some solitude to continue grieving. As I’m running with tears into my eyes, I slam into a body. Arms grip onto me and I feel something wrap around my back. I look up into the bluest eyes I have ever seen. Looking back at me is the more gorgeous man in the world. He has pitch black hair and a five o’clock shadow. He’s wearing a suit with a blue tie, it’s been flipped around and I long to correct it and smooth it back. On top he’s wearing a tan trench coat. I feel the pressure on my back fade and I turn to see black wings retract back into the man.

“Woah there… Wait, are you okay?”

I look up at him and the tears start streaming.

“No I’m not. I just found out I’m some huge legacy and that my parents and uncle didn’t die in a fire like I thought they did. They were killed by a demon. I didn’t even know this world existed. It’s too much. I can’t…”

“Slow down, look at me. You’re going to be okay. You need to take a breath.”

I follow his instruction and focus on my breathing.

“There you go Angel, good girl.”

And now I’m worked up for a completely different reason. Why did he have to hit me with the good girl.

“Th-thank you. I’m Jade. I just started today”

“Ah. Now I understand. My name is Castiel. I am a teacher here. I went on a few hunts with them before. They were amazing people.”

“I appreciate you saying that. It’s just a lot. Everything is moving so fast.”

I pause.

“Wait. Did you have wings or was that a figment of my imagination?”

He chuckles and the lights flicker as huge black wings extend from his back once again.

“Yes, I am an angel. Fallen, not a dick like the rest I promise.”

Wait, angels aren’t the good guys? Castiel must see the confusion in my face.

“Yes, notoriously angels aren’t dicks. I just happened to choose the side of free will over being told what to do all the time”

“Jade! There you are. Are you okay? I’ve been looking all over for you. Oh, hello Castiel. I see you’ve met my girl Jade.” Claire says as she runs down the hall and stops next to us.

“Your girl? I didn’t realize you were already claimed, Angel.”

I blush as I look between the two sexiest people in the world. Claire with her leather jacket and weapons and Castiel with his trench coat that surprisingly works on him. Are they… fighting over me?

“Uh. Uh.” I stutter.

“That’s alright, Princess,” she winks at me, “there is enough of you for the both of us.”

Did I just walk into an alternate reality? Isn’t Castiel a teacher? And Claire is my roommate. Surely there are rules against that.

“Don’t think too much into it, Angel. Why don’t you and Claire head back to your room and she can give you a crash course into hunting. I’m sure you will be a natural.”

“Unlikely sexy trench coat man, I get winded walking to my fridge.”

I stop. Did I really just say that in front of him?! I slap myself in the face and say to Claire,

“Please, please get me out of here before I make it any worse.”

She full belly laughs and grabs my hand to pull me back to our room. I like holding her hand. I’ve always been curious about other girls but I’ve never crossed that line. Why does Claire make me want to try?

••••

We walk into the room and I look at how plain my side of the room is.

“It’s alright Jade, we will go to the store and grab you everything you need. Since you’re a legacy, you should have an account with money in it. We can get you a starter hunting kit, decorations, and some bedding.”

“… Can my weapons be a dark purple?”

She looks at me and smirks.

“I’m not sure about that, but we can make your duffel, journal, and vials purple so it evens out. Here’s a list of what you’ll need.”

-shotgun

-shotgun shells

-rock salt

-regular salt

-spray paint

-pistol

-angel blade

-demon knife

-exorcism chant

-tire iron

-duffel bag

-notebook

My jaw drops. This is what a beginner kit looks like? There’s no way I can afford even the first part of the list. I start gnawing on my lip to the point it bleeds. It’s always been a nervous habit of mine. At least the rash isn’t breaking out on my neck. As I’m looking at the list, I start to shake. A hand reaches up and pulls my lip from between my teeth. I lift my head and see Claire looking into my eyes.

“Princess, we’ll be able to get you everything you need. If you don’t have enough money, I’m more than happy to help you. I have plenty of extra in my kit until you can get more of your own.”

As I’m looking into her eyes, I flick mine down to her lips, and see her doing what I just did. She’s biting her lip, only hers isn’t because she’s nervous, she’s biting her lip in such a sexy way. I start to lean in and as I do, she grabs my neck and slams her lips onto mine. It’s electric. This is my first kiss ever, not just with a girl. I never knew that this is what it could be like. Her tongue pokes at my lips and I open them. She sweeps her tongue in and tangles it with mine. She doesn’t need to fight for dominance. I’m nothing but putty in her arms. She starts to back me up until I am sitting on her bed. She steps in between my legs and plasters her body into mine.

“Well, well, well. I see you’re taking care of my angel for me, Claire. Tell me how does she taste?”

I freeze. Lifting my head, I see Castiel standing in our open doorway. Did we not close it? Pushing Claire back I stand up and rush to my bed. I go under the stiff blankets that came with the room and start breathing heavily. Fuck, I’ve been doing so good. I haven’t had a panic attack in so long. I can feel the rash forming on my neck. I curl up and start rocking my body. Trying to ground myself in whatever way I can. I keep repeating, “what have I done, what am I doing, who am I?” And other nonsensical phrases. Castiel and Claire are quietly talking, but there is an edge of anxiety in both of their voices. I hear shuffling and then I feel pressure. That warm soft pressure I felt when Castiel caught me in the hall. I open one eye and find castiel behind me tightly wrapping his wings around my body. The sounds of the room start to fade back in and I hear Castiel whispering, “you’re alright Angel I got you. Whoever’s hurt you before will pay. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. What I saw was amazing and you looked like you were at home.”

I stop rocking and I stop shaking. I go to sit up and feel his wings loosen their grip, but they stay around me. I can’t bring myself to look up at him or Claire. I continue to stare at the wall. Feeling a hand at my chin, I slightly tilt my chin up. Castiel is looking at me with understanding in his eyes.

“Welcome back Angel. There’s nothing to worry about. Today has been a long day and I’m going to let you take a nap. I left my number on the table for you if you want to text me.”

“I appreciate the thought,” I said “but I only had a house phone in my cottage. I don’t own a cell phone.”

He looks at me with a contemplative look,

“That’s okay, I’ll get in contact with Claire until you do. Get some sleep.” Before he walks out he leans down and kisses my forehead. Claire walks up to me and does the same before heading to her own bed. I grab her hand.

“Wait. Can you hold me?”

“Sure princess.”

She climbs into bed with to me and wraps her arms around me.

“Goodnight Claire”

“Goodnight Jade”

••••••

[fandom-hoarder]

happy wincest wednesday! what is something the boys would do for each when the other isn't looking or paying attention just to be nice?

Hahhh... sorry for letting this sit so long; I have been extremely distracted. Idk if it's appropriate to say "happy" today, but it does so happen to be wincest wednesday and well... this probably wasn't the kind of answer you expected at the time, but here's what this makes me think about today...

~

Dean wakes up -- later than he's been used to most of his life, but earlier than he's grown accustom. He can feel that Sam's still in bed, and guesses it's before Sam's 6am run. But then the hairs on his body raise inexplicably, and he sits up with the urgency of a house fire.

"What's going on?"

And Sam's answer is tired, red-rimmed eyes and his phone wordlessly turned so Dean can see the screen.

Dean feels detached from the bigger issues of the election as Sam cycles through the stages of grief throughout the morning. Dean's only concern is Sam.

Sam tries to start getting ready for his run. "They haven't really even finished the count yet. There's still a chance for a miracle in the mail-in votes," he says, but his shoe drops from his hand when he tries to pick it up, and he just stares at it. Dean wonders if Sammy is thinking about their track record in miracles.

So Dean agrees, "Of course, come on, this guy again? No way. The blue guys'll clinch it." And he helps Sam put on his shoes and then puts on his own, pulling Sam out of the bunker with him and bracing against the early morning chill, only to be met with a balmy, pre-sunrise 50 degrees.

Halfway through their jog, Sam suddenly breaks his sync with Dean, kicking at a tree with a guttural growl and the full force of his foot as if he was wearing his hunting boots. Dean cringes.

"Maybe if I'd found a way for us to vote without getting arrested -- we've broken so many laws anyway, what's a little voter fraud, right?! But no. And now look!"

He aims for the tree again, but Dean catches his leg with an 'oof.'

"C'mon, Sam, you know that's ridiculous. The two of us wouldn't have turned Kansas around by ourselves. You can't help that you still have faith in people, Sammy. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Because I'm stupid," Sam says bitterly, and turns around to jog back to the bunker.

Dean follows him, but can't quite keep up this time. When he reaches the bunker, Sam is on the phone in the kitchen.

"I'm tellin' you, Garth, it's just like that time with Dick Roman when they drugged everybody to turn us into food. You really haven't heard anything? Don't you think it's completely crazy to believe his followers aren't under some kind of supernatural influence, for him to get away with all the horrible shit he does?"

"Well, maybe you could try asking Rowena---" Garth's tinny voice suggests as Dean pulls the phone away and hangs up.

"Dean--" Sam complains, reaching for the phone dispassionately.

"You know we already looked into this asshole. He's 100% human evil, Sammy."

Sam collapses onto the table bench, hand over his face. "Claire's already texted me twelve times. I don't even know what to say to her."

Dean looks at Sams phone and sees that there's a voicemail from Patience too. Pursing his lips, he turns off Sam's phone and pockets it. He sidles up behind Sam, cupping the back of Sam's neck and squeezing like he's scruffing him.

Sam takes a deep, hitching breath and holds it, breathing it out long and slow as Dean slides his hands down to dig his thumbs into the knots Sam's formed over the last twelve anxious hours.

"Well I guess," Sam starts, softly, "At least now he can't run again after this."

Dean starts to glimpse the promise of relief in his belly, before Sam adds with a self deprecating laugh: "As long as he doesn't change the law about term limits."

Dean squeezes Sam's shoulders, and keeps working at the tension until his hands get sore. Then he makes them breakfast, and makes sure Sam gets something in his stomach besides coffee.

But after Sam mechanically finishes the eggs and pancakes, Dean adds a couple splashes of whiskey when he tops up Sam's coffee -- after which, Sam says he should finally take his shower, but decides to lay his head down on the table for a minute and falls asleep.

Dean does his best to make sure Sam won't wake up with an even gnarlier backache, and does the dishes quickly before sneaking into the archives for the ingredients to contact Rowena.

But Rowena is no help to him if it doesn't come with a deal, and Dean has finally learned enough to know Sam wouldn't find the trade fair.

Dean lets Rowena go and turns Sam's phone back on, refreshing the election map. It still shows a handful of states at less than 80% reported, despite the bold banner at the top announcing a winner, and Dean looks at it in disgust.

A new text notification chimes in, and Dean sees Claire's name and a preview of her text: "I can get Alex to teach us how to do backroom abor" and Dean can guess what the rest of the text says.

Dean meets Sam in the hallway, calling for him.

"Hey," Sam says, sliding on his socked feet as he sees Dean and stops short. "I heard my phone. Was that Claire?" He snatches his phone from Dean and immediately starts scrolling, reading Claire's texts under his breath and dancing his fingers across the keys in a sudden fury. Quickly, Sam goes from upright to hunched like a question mark over his phone, shuffling restlessly up and down the corridor and mumbling about hrt supplies.

"Sammy, will ya take a breath? I'll knock over a pharmacy before I make ya go without your shots. --They'll still be makin' it for cis dudes, right?"

"Yeah. Probably. And I know you would, Dean, but I'm not worried about me," Sam says, not looking up. "Claire's going to scope out some manufacturing facilities with the girls and we're gonna set up an underground hrt resource. I wonder if there's anyone in our network who could work out a small manufacturing setup. It's too bad Kevin...or Charlie..." Sam mumbles down into nothing as he keeps typing, and Dean's stomach clenches.

He herds Sam, still typing, down to the showers, and gets the steam going while he strips Sam down and finally pulls the phone from his grasp. Dean pulls Sam down to him and goes up on his tiptoes to kiss Sam's forehead. He swears he can smell the salt of Sam's tears, and when he looks at Sam's face again they shimmer on his cheeks like the silvery scars of his top surgery.

Gently, Dean pushes Sam into the shower and under the water, carving his hands through Sam's hair to wet it down.

"Didn't think we'd be going through another apocalypse again so soon."

"Or ever," Dean agrees gruffly, grabbing Sam's special shampoo. "But this one isn't on us, Sam."

Sam closes his eyes, somehow still admonishing even as more tears join the water on his face. Dean's sudsy fingers scrub his scalp soothingly. "Dean. It's what we do."

"HRT, ok, that's one thing. But clandestine abortions?"

Sam snorts. "Alex can teach us."

"Us?"

Sam leans to rinse under the water when Dean directs him. "We'll cache abortion pills for the easy stuff, but we should be prepared to do more. We've taken bigger risks on DIY, and at least we'll get some training on this. Soon there might not even be any other options..."

So that's how Dean finds himself on his knees. Alone in his room. Praying to Jack as Sam sets up some type of mission control in the library.

"Please, Jack, I know you said you're hands off, an' all, but I think you should make an exception for Sammy. Just this once. He's had a lifetime of Hell-- more'n a lifetime-- and this is supposed to be our retirement. So can ya chip in a little for his 41st half-birthday -- which you missed, by the way -- and fix this freaking election so we don't hafta spend our retirement in another friggin' apocalypse?"

A weird feeling comes over Dean as he prays, buzzing through him with warm, alien reassurance. And as his stomach starts to unclench, he adds: "and hey, I'm not expecting ya to fix all of human history-- we're still team free will down here-- but throw in some worldwide human rights and extended ceasefires while you're at it. You missed a few of his actual birthdays, too, y'know."

Five minutes later, Dean's knees are cracking as he stands up and sprints down the halls towards the sound of Sam's bellowed, "Oh my god. Dean!"

Sam is gaping blearily at his laptop in the library.

"What's up? You okay?"

Sam can only gesture at his laptop, where the screen is displaying the final results of the count, and the Dems managed to pull a sudden upset, tilting the final count to their favor by two swing states after the paper ballots were counted.

"Ho-ly shit," Dean says, almost unable to believe it himself.

"And that's not all!" Sam says with a hint of bright incredulity, and scrolls down his news page.

"ALL the firearms disappeared?!" Dean asks, reaching for his gun automatically but realizing he'd never armed himself today. "Bombs, too? How?"

He knows how, but he still feels shocked. He'll have to check their stashes to see if Jack disarmed even them -- Dean really needs to get better at wording his wishes. They can't just be naked out here if monsters still exist.

But Sam answers Dean obliviously, "No idea! There's already a bunch of conspiracy theories on social media, each one crazier and yet more plausible than the last. Tucker Carlson already uploaded an AI shortfilm about how it was demons---" Sam turns to Dean suddenly and Dean cuts him off before he can speak it.

"It wasn't Rowena."

When Sam frowns at him in confusion, Dean begrudgingly elaborates, "I tried asking her for a favor while you were asleep, but she said that big of an ask would require a deal. You know I know better than that." (Now.)

Sam looks outrageously skeptical, and Dean feels offended. "Dean, people are reporting resurrections and olive trees sprouting full grown from rubble. Razor wire around global borders turning to wildflowers. Fields of grain in Ukraine. Cereal stalks cropping up in desolate Sudan farms, sprouted with grain and full heads of cooked kisra..." Sam keeps scrolling past miraculous headlines. "And these videos don't look like AI."

Dean bites his lip, wondering-- hoping-- that this will bring an end to the suffering, and not just be a bandaid before things continue going to shit. He focuses on the headlines and video titles quickly scrolling by, watching for anything about peace agreements or troops retreating. Screw free will, actually, just a little bit.

"D-Dean... do you think... Jack?"

Dean watches the weight of the world ease off Sammy's shoulders, infinitesimally, and doesn't resist the urge to wrap his arms around Sam, kissing his temple.

"Maybe, Sammy. Maybe."

[friend-finders-friend-david]

Hi, I made this blog so I could post this. I don’t fully know how tumblr works, so I’m sorry if I’ve done something wrong setting things up. My name is David and I’d like to bring forward some context on the whole @friendfinder-megacorp thing and the woman behind it, Kale.

Her name is Kale Erinns, she's one of my childhood friends. She, Amy Redniff and our friend Fred (who I've attempted to reach out to for help in this matter... to no avail. Thanks Freddy.) grew up together in Kansas. Kale has been missing since 2023.

On September 25th, 2020, Kale and Amy were driving back from buying groceries. Amy was the one driving, Kale didn't have her drivers license at the time. The two had a habit of not wearing their seatbelts and well... it finally came back to bite them. A drunk driver would swerve into oncoming traffic and cause a head on collision. The driver of the other vehicle would end up in critical condition at the hospital, Kale got a concussion, fractured her left femer bone as well as a broken rib, but luckily didn't get anything punctured. I don't fully know what all they did to her leg, but I think they had to have a rod put in it. Either way she was told she might have to walk with a cane for the rest of her life. Amy wasn't as lucky. The first responders put down that Amy died instantaneously. Blunt force trauma to the head. Kale was lucid enough to see it, she started having to go to therapy due to what she saw that night.

The drunk driver was Dr. Finn Fieder, a professor and anthropologist at the University of Kansas. He lost his job basically the second he woke up in the hospital and was going to be put on trial for manslaughter, but never got the chance.

Last year, he was murdered. The suspect still hasn’t been identified yet, but Kale was a potential suspect. Just after the whole thing broke, her parents filed a missing persons case for her. Her parents think that there’s someone who kidnapped or killed her and that they were responsible for killing Dr. Fieder. The cops found her place ransacked, so either she panicked and left or got snatched. I want to believe that she didn’t do it, I’m hoping it was a case of she got scared or in the worst case scenario, got kidnapped.

I’ve been trying to compile as much information about Kale and where she could be at. I’ve tried calling her number, I’ve tried all her emails, I’ve tried looking just about everywhere I could in Kansas for her, but I haven’t been able to find anything conclusive. It wasn’t until I received an odd email from the address friendfindermegacorp@gmail.com that I would hear from Kale again. I received an email yesterday, October 13th, 2024 with an image and a message saying:

I was initially going to shrug it off as spam mail until I looked closer at the image. The doodle that was attached, despite being odd, looked exactly like something Kale would draw. I thought maybe it was the kidnapper or something, so I hurriedly replied to the email and the response I got was not what I was expecting at all.

I've sent back multiple replies but I haven’t gotten another response from Kale since. I searched online for Friend Finders Megacorp and found this blog with the same name. I made this account so I could try to maybe spark some sort of reaction from her with all of this information being ousted and to perhaps get some help from others to get a response from Kale about where she is or what’s going on here.

[aletheia-in-the-space]

So I'm catching up before the asterisk movie and that's how I finally came around to see the Black Widow. Overall, I had fun. Not a movie to be in awe for but also not a movie to be pissed at. Tbh, it would be rather forgettable if I hadn't watched it for character(s) and lore anyway. Not much thought on it besides bulletpoints:

+ If Natasha took off the plane, who landed it? Also her? Melina was out of the game and Alexei can't land a tale… Then again, maybe he could, once. He's the one character that reads really inconsistent to me here and headcanoning some sense into this takes more effort than I'm willing to invest in him. Idk, prison doing things to man, whatever.

+ Btw, I'm not asking why Soviet Russia's one (1) supersoldier is put as a sleeper muscle on a years-long sleeper job in Cuteville OH because I don't expect Marvel/MCU canon lore making sense. As far as I'm concerned, Marvel/MCU canon lore is to make the ground for fanworks, nonsense is seed and wtf feels are fertilizer. Go wild, fandom.

+ I mentally pfffed at all the super yellow filters on all places south of approximate Kansas. At this point it's like they deliberately wink at the trope or something…

+ As much as I appreciate the action and the N&Y's lines, all this stealing random people's drives For A Greater Cause (and also we're really in hurry)TM is not remotely as much funny as all filmmakers seem to think it is… It's almost like no superhero ever stole their own stuff For Cause.

+ And the inmate Ursa's arm. Not funny. Not funny at all. Poor guy. Bad Alexei. He can't take a little truth.

+ I loved the avalanche sequence, the whole of it, with Yelena's shot and her words about cool way to die, and Natasha tarzaning Alexei away, and the copter rising out of the cloud in the end, but I don't appreciate how it belongs in the in-universe Deadliest Disasters by Death Toll Wiki list. And it totally belongs in our universe Does the Dog Die list. I need some fix fic where the dog survives together with his assigned human, they dig out a number of other survivors and then quit the prison job and go for a career in disaster rescue. I allow the guys who ate Alexei's mail snack not be counted in the survivors.

+ Gotta love all the killing style criticism and one-upwomanning each other about who's the bloodiest of 'em all in front of the shop guy like he's furniture. Much professional. Very spy. Go on and ask him to pull a Paris and make the Judgement, why won't you. With a Golden Band-Aid for the apple.

+ It's my firm & evidence based conviction that every MCU actor in the title role must have a Chest Scene clause in his contract, which here posed a problem with Hollywood being very Tumblric about female presenting nipples. Is it why this movie went for Alexei hhnnnggnning his way into his old suit? (Ye gods, I sorta almost like Alexei, but frankly, his only saving grace is being genuine. Okay, two saving graces, being genuine and being self-aware, sometimes.)

+ I can take comic book movie science but not comic movie dramatic gestures, when Natasha shucks the headphones and tears Alexei's ones off, and proceeds with Serious Talk Time That Wasn't Serious Enough With HP On. Like, uh…? They are there for a reason, you know? A very noisy reason? A totally untalkable in these circumstances reason?

+ Speaking of which I said nothing at Natasha's comic movie field surgery (and hitting just the right nerve through all the bone and tissue had nothing on plugging it back online in a single crunch like she's secretly Steve Rogers 2.0 and grows neurones for fun) but this time I was disappointed that her comic movie dramatic gesture wasn't it, apparently. I thought she sacrificed her smell sense for good…

+ They totally wasted it not making Natasha ask Yelena after they hugged it out if she checked for the body and Yelena be forced to admit there wasn't any to check. Granted, in movie language it would open a doubt… but then again, Marvel lives of such openings so it's not like they care for avoiding them.

And speaking of hugging and all, I liked it being a hugging kind of movie instead of another Civil War. And that at least some goons are pointedly saved. And that twists tend to take the 'actually with us' turn instead of 'actually traitor who betrays' for once. Very refreshing and heartwarming. Cringey family reunion aside.

[symbieote]

Are you telling me there's NO superbat mail order bride au on ao3. NONE???

Surely someone has to have written one at some point. Is there one languishing out there in the depths of locked LJ journals somewhere???

Hello??? Kansas cowboy and/or farmer Clark Kent, who writes for the town paper on the side and who might be an alien or just super strong because of all those farm chores. And millionaire in desguise Bruce Wayne, who is disillusioned with the excess of the rich and the expansionism of the frontier, solving crimes at night and trying to uphold justice. Clark is lonely and alienated, never feeling like he quite fits into Smallville, and decides to seek companionship from elsewhere, so he strikes up a brief correspondence with a mail order bride (standard caveats of anachronistic gay marriage etc). Bruce puts himself into a mail order bride catalogue as a cover for his need to move into Smallville without arousing suspicion so he can investigate the sheriff and some bandits that have been bothering the town... Bruce takes a bullet in a shootout and Clark has to nurse him back to health, Clark cuts firewood shirtless, they bathe in a river. Once the sexual tension boils over, Clark metaphorically compares fucking Bruce and having his sculpted body and sleek strong muscles between his legs to riding a stallion.

Fic ends with Bruce and Clark solving the crime that Bruce was there to investigate, then Bruce sweeping Clark off his feet and taking him back to New York, because Clark has always wanted the big city life. They have another wedding in NY, ome that's stylish and lavish and the talk of the town. But they visit the farm and Ma and Pa Kent regularly (read once a year) because Bruce was a rail magnate this whole time and the b plot of the fic was the completion of the first transcontinental rail route, which in this verse was partly built by the Wayne Railways Company or something, so even though it takes like a week by rail it's not as difficult and slow as it used to be. They have sex in a luxury private train car that they only add to the train when Bruce is taking a trip. Maybe Clark is a Kryptonian after all, and he shows Mr Coal Powered Vehicle the true meaning of speed, so Bruce becomes obsessed with a)improving speed of his trains and b)experimenting with aviation, because flying with Clark is so exhilarating. Clark becomes a reporter after he marries Bruce, turning his semiamateur reporting professional.

This literally writes itself, I'm dying, I want to read this so bad I'm gonna start crying into my pillow.

[jc-lambert]

Sanely Conveying the Insanity

Hello,

My name is J.C. Lambert. I was a volunteer who wrote for the Liberty Press out of Wichita Kansas prior to the massacres and riots, many of which where religiously driven and anti-human in nature (tribally speaking) While in Oregon, I wrote spastic S.O.S. emails which also included the offices of Oprah Windfrey. I am currently in Wichita (alive) and in the middle of having my siblings, their children, various local midwestern social networks and my mother sued for their every last penny, and if possible sold to a Cat Ranch: which has a lady operating as Madame who has come to be known by the same last name as myself.

Due to situations, it seems I have become a massacre writer. (Don't shoot the messenger)

The girls have been squatting and renting out my house. They've been claiming spousal status while living in perfect incest with their brother & persons from Emporia Kansas, who have stolen my identity a time or twenty. They now want Christmas Presents. (wouldn't anyone/everyone call that "being a whore") They've even taken it upon themselves to open my mail and steal my "Amazon Readathon" bookmarks.

My grandmother died, my aunt died while I was kidnapped by the authorities. Nobody told me. I have yet to see my mother. She's probably dead and the kids probably killed her, they had hacked into her Facebook.com acct.

My sister cashed out my life insurance policy and fled to Georgia after purchasing large quantities of the street drug known as craque in Florida. It seems to be made out of baking soda and a white substance called "coke". When this occurred, former employees of the State of Kansas had me mugged and kept me nabbed in the State of Oregon. So: they're probably off the hook?

There is going to be a gunshow in Wichita on the 7th of this month at the Century Building (the one that looks like a flying saucer) Would Oprah want to visit? I understand she is being called "Fat Ass Oprah" again and I understand she has mentioned "ashy legs" again on television. She might need a pistol.

My Club Genesis membership has lapsed.

I no longer have I.D. however I do have my fingerprint on file with California and Colorado Driving Record and I think Genesis would have my Florida and Kansas I.D. on file, perhaps not my Oklahoma.

I have in my possession what kids would call a "nug" of weed. That weed seems to be reefer. I really do not know anyone trustworthy who would smoke it. Most reefer smokers that I know, are the kind of people who should have a bullet put in their body in ways that they might not wake up after. Not because they're drug addicts: but because they cause too much negativity.

Does anyone know anyone I can trade that "nug" to have them pay to have my membership reinstated? I'm having to get actual work. Right? Like money and such and finances and this and that. Normally I volunteer/slave and live off SSI & foodstamps. However, foodstamps is a department of Women, Children, and Families. While my co-wives (both of whom are beards and money grubbing hos who thought my liberating things I bought with slave wages where worth something: but sort of reduced them the moment they where in their hands) are in prison for double homicide and a mental institution for having the maiden name of Lucifer, I am not to be on foodstamps, so it seems.

I hope you and yours are doing well... and that further riot and massacre does not ensue.

:-P

Police arrested me at a computer terminal, and killed several of my "Anurean" accounts. So, I sort of got ahold of old lawyers who work with my trustfund. There is stock in Black Cat Fireworks Inc as well as several mines that produce gunpowder. Most of said police are dead. They where in most cases, white. Their lives where said not to matter at the time of massacre. I have yet to have my emails back, which includeth (and I do mean INCLUDETH) my iCloud/iTunes account.

Hopefully I have lawyers for that too, and my lawyers who made the decision to pull the trigger. I understand there is a new movement, one very American that will use the "N Word". It is called "White Lives Matter". I wonder if those Immigrants from Africa thought to copywrite all their propaganda. If so: they need to sue.

jc-lambert.tumblr.com

#Anurean

Sent with Proton Mail secure email.

[sky-high-my-beloved]

Why did DR. COFFIN no longer continue publishing fanfics?

DR. COFFIN began publishing his fanfics about Sky High for the first time on Nov 3, 2005, this being "Flight" with Warren Peace as the protagonist since she is, in his own words, his favorite character.

May 18, 2006: It would be the day on which Sky High would publish the series: a synopsis compilation with his writing partner WARRENFIRE.

WARRENFIRE: I publish 84 synopsis. DR. COFFIN: published 78 synopsis.

(Remember that these are in no specific order.)

As it says in the same publication, they decided to only publish 5 stories chosen by the fans since they did not believe they could write them all. From the votes it was decided to change the number to 14 of which were going to be written but only a few arrived and others were deleted since they were published on the WARRENFIRE account which disappeared, leaving only the message below.

Published: Dec 18, 2006: but moving on to the controversial issue, WARRENFIRE showed a fanaticism for Sky High which is not known how it ended, since if we go to his account we can see that his love for the movie turned to hatred for it, it is not known why, perhaps a fight or a disagreement but as DR. COFFIN in the story "Sky High Christmas Special: Snow Ball Fight" disappeared.

DR. COFFIN, Note:

As many of you know, this idea was a joint effort by myself and Warrenfire to give us all something as close to a Sky High tv series as we're likely to ever get (at least until Paul Hernandez gets the rights back from Disney unless they wake up and realize they're sitting on a million dollar opportunity). It has been fun, and Warrenfire and I have bounced over a hundred ideas (EACH) off of each other to come up with a series. Sadly, things haven't worked out as well as we had hoped. Recent events at home have really screwed up my time to get anything written, resulting in long delays that have frustrated me to no end. Combine this with the fact that Warrenfire has apparently dropped off the face of the earth after deleting all the episodes he "produced" so far, and things don't look so good for this idea to continue. But that depends entirely upon you, the readers. Do you want me to continue this series of stories? There are a lot of good ones in the works (including ones featuring appearances by Disney characters such as Dr. Drakken and Shego, and the gang from "Hercules"), and we have yet to learn the plans of Royal Pain and Barron Battle. Warrenfire e-mailed me the rough drafts for a few of his stories from him, and I'd really like to put those out for you all to read, and there is a great cliff hanger "season finale" coming up as well. While I personally would love to continue doing this, my time is still rather limited, and there are three other projects I need to work on. These include the sequel to "We're Not In Kansas Anymore" (Sky High/Smallville) which takes place a year after the first story with Clark, Layla, Warren and the others in their sophomore year. Due to continued demand, I also want to continue the Sky High/Sharkboy and Lavagirl crossover I did as a couple of little one-shots over a year ago, turn it into a full blown story, and also add the characters from "Zoom: Academy for Super Heroes" (yeah, the movie was a bad Sky High rip-off but the characters have a lot of potential). Finally, I am laying the groundwork to writing a novel. Actually I have ideas for several of them, but I need to settle down on one idea and take it from there.

So there you have it. Please let me know if my continuing to work on the "series" is something you all want to continue to read, or if I should just wrap it up as a "miniseries" and go on to the other projects. I look forward to getting your feedback.

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 12. i will find you

she's the sweetest love i could find, and so i guess i'll be hunting high and low.- a-ha, Hunting High and Low

S E P T E M B E R   1 8 T H   2 0 1 1 earlier that day.

"Tell me what you got Baby Girl", Morgan asked Garcia through the phone.

The remainder of our team made their way into Kansas City under the cloak of night, their arrival shrouded in anticipation and determination as we braced ourselves for the impending finale.

Garcia's voice crackled over the line, carrying the weight of her discoveries. "Alright, buckle up. Maile's backstory is like something out of a novel. She's thirty-one, just as we suspected. The early years of her life were calm, but then things took a dark turn. From age six onwards, it's a laundry list of hospital visits."

As Garcia dug deeper into Maile's troubled past, a chill ran down my spine. Memories of our shared childhood flooded back, reminders of the pain she endured even back then. The idea that her suffering had only worsened since we parted ways sent a shiver down my spine.

"The hospital records paint a grim picture," Garcia went on. "Despite obvious signs of abuse, they never once raised any alarms. It's a real failure of the system. Worthy of a lawsuit if I may say so."

My heart sank at Garcia's words. The betrayal of trust, the system's failure to protect the vulnerable – it all hit too close to home. It was a story as old as time, but it never failed to stir up a whirlwind of emotions within me.

Garcia's voice filled the room, her storytelling painting a vivid picture of a pivotal moment in Maile's life. "On her sixteenth birthday, she took a bold step and moved out," Garcia narrated, her words carrying the weight of significance. "Since then, she's called Florence, Alabama, her home, carving out her own path amidst the city's gentle Southern charm."

As Garcia continued, her admiration for Maile's resilience and determination was palpable. "She worked her way through college on a full scholarship," she added, her tone tinged with admiration.

A brief silence followed, allowing us to absorb the gravity of Maile's achievements. "She graduated with honors," Garcia announced proudly. "And then, she pursued a master's degree, diving deeper into the world of poetry, just as we suspected she would."

Listening to Garcia's narrative, I felt a mix of pride and regret wash over me. "Well done, Maile," I murmured, acknowledging her accomplishments.

But beneath the surface, there was a twinge of remorse. How many chances had I missed? How many times had I unknowingly crossed paths with her, unaware of the brilliance she possessed? The realization weighed heavily on my mind, highlighting the fleeting nature of chance encounters and the profound impact they can have on our lives.

Garcia spoke with admiration and respect as she delved deeper into Maile's current endeavors. "She's made a name for herself as a freelancer," she remarked, her words carrying a sense of reverence for Maile's entrepreneurial spirit. "Through her poetry, she's not only found her passion but also a way to make a living, which, I must say, is quite an achievement."

She paused, letting her words sink in before adding, "Despite her success, she stays true to her values." Garcia's tone was filled with awe. "She lives simply, resisting the temptation of lavish spending or extravagant vacations. Instead, she opts for a life of modesty and fulfillment, finding joy in stability and contentment."

As Garcia painted a picture of Maile's journey, memories of her past flooded my mind. Each detail revealed the remarkable woman she had become. It seemed as if fate had woven together the threads of her life into a masterpiece—a tapestry reflecting her pride, humility, resilience, and grace.

Deep within me, I couldn't shake this strong feeling that Maile had achieved exactly what I always imagined for her. She had this unique mix of traits—she held her head high, not in a showy way, but with this quiet power that just radiated from her; and yet, she also had this humility that reminded me how we're all connected and how vital it is to understand and care for each other.

I couldn't stop thinking about how much her goals mirrored mine. And when I heard that she saw me not just as a guide, but as someone who inspired her, it filled me with such deep thanks. It really made me realize how much our actions can influence those around us, and how important it is to be a guiding force in someone else's journey.

As Garcia spoke, I felt this surge of pride for the woman Maile had become. She seemed to embody all the hopes and dreams of what's yet to come, this vision of her growing and changing into the person she was always meant to be. And in that moment, I knew she hadn't just reached her potential—she had surpassed it.

Amidst all the chaos around us, the need to find her felt more urgent than ever. We were driven by this strong desire to rescue her from the overwhelming situation we found ourselves in. It was like this relentless mission, fueled by a mix of determination, duty, and this overwhelming sense of responsibility to shield her from the storms raging around us.

With anticipation gripping us tightly, we hung on every word Garcia uttered, each one carrying weight as he peeled back the layers of our search. Then, out of nowhere, he uttered her name— Ira Listunova. Unlike the elusive Maile, she was more visible, leaving a digital trail that practically begged us to follow it.

Garcia's words painted a vivid picture of this woman who embraced the online world with zeal, her social media profiles offering glimpses into her life. From the crack of dawn to the dead of night, she roamed the digital realm, craving connection and sharing bits of herself, creating a detailed map of her life through posts and updates.

As Garcia revealed the details of her relationship with James, a bitter taste filled the air, adding to the thick tension in the room. Learning that they started dating just eight days after we decided to split felt like a cruel twist of fate, stabbing into our wounded hearts.

The realization hit me like a bolt of anger— we hadn't even begun the painful process of divorce, yet he had already moved on, leaving behind the wreckage of our once-promising marriage. It was a harsh reminder of how fleeting love can be and how unpredictable human emotions are.

Garcia's storytelling unfolded like a captivating book, each detail she shared about Ira's life seeming to carry immense weight as he revealed more about her journey. It was like she was peeling back layers of her life story for us.

As Garcia dug deeper into the ins and outs of Ira's life, a troubling thought started to form in my mind. It felt like Ira's path mirrored mine in unsettling ways—from her education choices to where she lived and even her romantic involvement with James Blake. The similarities were too striking to ignore, leaving this strange feeling of déjà vu hanging in the air.

Why did it seem like Ira was walking in my footsteps so closely? Was it just a coincidence, or was there something more profound happening—some cosmic twist of fate weaving our lives together in ways we couldn't understand?

As I pondered these questions, a sense of unease settled over me, casting a shadow over the room. It was a stark reminder that the lines between what's real and what's not, between chance and destiny, can often blur and merge.

"Thanks, Baby Girl," Morgan's voice came through the phone, a gentle reminder of the bond that held us together as a team. But beneath the surface, there was a tangible tension, an uncertainty that hung in the air like electricity.

As the call wrapped up, JJ's comment sliced through the quiet, shattering the calm that had settled around us. "Sounds like someone is obsessed with taking over every part of your life, Alex," she said casually. Her words held the ease of someone who was used to navigating our team dynamics.

I couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh at JJ's observation, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me like a heavy burden. It was a stark reminder of just how serious things had gotten, a reminder that the stakes were much higher than any of us had imagined.

"And considering she wants to take over your life," Reid chimed in with a sharp mind. His gaze flicked over the lines of poetry spread out before us, each word a potential clue in the complex puzzle we were trying to solve. "We rely on the clues Maile has given us," he added urgently, his voice tinged with a sense of determination.

"Returning our focus to the second poem," Reid said, his voice filled with purpose as he pointed to the poem displayed prominently in the center of the whiteboard. The room quieted as we all contemplated the eerie words on the page, each line seeming to lead us deeper into the unknown.

"It's undoubtedly depicting a dark place." He concluded, his brow furrowing in concentration.

Morgan was the first to speak up. "It could be a basement," he suggested, his words hanging heavy in the air like a shroud of uncertainty.

Rossi, always the voice of reason, nodded in agreement. "Or perhaps a garage," he added, his tone thoughtful. It was a practical suggestion, considering the need for secrecy and accessibility in our investigation. A garage offered both, a place where someone could hide their intentions away from prying eyes.

Hotch, as per usual, chimed in with his insights. "A warehouse," he proposed firmly. It was a logical deduction, given the scale of the operation we were dealing with. A warehouse provided ample space for clandestine activities, shielded from outside scrutiny.

Reid's question hung in the air, each word reminding us of the enormity of our task. "Does anything stand out to you?" he asked, his eyes fixed on me, searching for any sign of recognition amidst the uncertainty.

I furrowed my brow, delving deep into my thoughts, trying to piece together any fragments of memory that could shed light on the situation. But despite my efforts, there was nothing—no hidden meaning, no clue waiting to be discovered. "I can't think of anything," I admitted, frustration creeping into my voice as I shook my head.

But Reid persisted, delving further into the puzzle. "She also mentioned 'nowhere you'd be ever found,'" he reminded us, his words lingering in the air like a challenge. "Does that ring any bells for you, especially considering the dark place?"

As Reid spoke, memories flooded my mind, snapshots of moments shared with Maile. I remembered the nights we spent stargazing, the soothing rhythm of the waves as we swam under the moonlight, the quiet intimacy of reading together by candlelight. But intertwined with those cherished memories were darker ones—moments of pain, of fear, reminders of the abuse she endured in her past, haunting her like shadows she couldn't shake.

My inner turmoil must have been written all over my face because Hotch's voice broke the silence. "What's on your mind, Blake?" he asked, his tone gentle but probing.

Taking a deep breath, I prepared to confront the darkness hiding in the depths of my thoughts. "We made a pact," I started, my voice barely audible. "There was this one place I was never supposed to go unless I couldn't find her for more than four hours."

As I spoke, memories flooded back, vivid and sharp—the rundown shed on the edge of her father's property, stained with the memories of her pain and suffering. "Her father had this shed where he'd work on stuff," I continued, my voice trembling with emotion. "But it wasn't dark... except for one room."

Realization hit me like a bolt of lightning, illuminating the shadows clouding my mind. "He'd lock her up there whenever he'd beat her and someone unexpectedly came by," I revealed, the words tumbling out in a rush. "She showed me once, just in case I ever needed to come and rescue her."

The weight of my words hung heavy in the air, a grim reminder of the horrors lurking beneath the surface of our seemingly normal lives. But amid the darkness, there was a glimmer of hope—that together, we could find a way to save Maile from her past and bring her back into the light.

"That could work," Morgan jumped in, his voice cutting through the silence like a beacon of unity in the midst of chaos. Reid agreed with a solemn nod, his eyes filled with determination.

Hotch turned to me, his gaze steady and unwavering. "Can you lead us to this shed?" he asked, his words both a challenge and a call to action.

Meeting his gaze with determination, I nodded firmly. "Yes, I know where it is," I confirmed, my voice steady with resolve.

"Alright," Hotch announced, his tone firm and decisive. "Blake, Dave, you're with me. The rest of you, take the other car."

With a sense of urgency, we hurried to the waiting vehicles, the tension thick in the air as we prepared for the next phase of our mission. Though the precinct was only a ten-minute drive from the shed, each moment felt like an eternity as we mentally prepared ourselves for what awaited us.

Arriving at our destination, anticipation hung heavy in the air, the weight of our collective apprehension nearly suffocating. Stepping out of the cars, we formed a tight circle, our resolve strengthened by our shared determination to confront whatever darkness lay ahead in that shed.

As we geared up to enter that dreadful place, Reid's voice cut through the air, freezing us in our tracks. "Alex," he called out, concern evident in his tone. "You shouldn't go in. Remember what she said."

I felt a surge of defiance rising within me at Reid's words, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "I can't just stand by and watch," I countered, determination and desperation mingling in my voice.

Hotch stepped forward, his gaze unwavering as he echoed Reid's warning. "Reid's right," he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. "You're not going in."

"But—" I started, my protests silenced by Hotch's firm tone.

"No," he interjected, his voice leaving no room for negotiation. In that moment, I realized that despite my eagerness to confront our past, I was bound by the constraints of reality. Sometimes, true courage lies in knowing when to step back and let others take the lead in battles we cannot fight.

[sgtjamesrogers]

WIP WEDNESDAY

welcome back to Who's WIP Is It Anyway, where the word count doesn't matter and weeks of research will end up becoming a single sentence! today with your host, Me, offering a snippet from Ideal Lasso Spin Off Feat. RoyJamie Fic, aka 'roy kent gets bullied by a bunch of nwsl lesbians, deserves it'

Over the course of his career Roy’s had a few different agents within the same firm, but he likes his current agent the best. She doesn’t much like conversating, she’s not a fan of speculation or gossip, and she trusts Roy’s own instincts about whatever offers are made to him whether they happen to be career moves or otherwise. He’s only met with her in person a grand total of twice, and he only hears from her when there’s something for him to hear about. 

Roy makes sure she gets a ridiculously ornate basket of posh goodies every year for Christmas for her trouble and temperament, and he always gets a thank you card promptly after New Year’s in her exactingly perfect cursive. He literally could not ask for better, and he doesn’t plan to.

Which is why he always gives her infrequent e-mails the proper attention they deserve. 

The title of the e-mail is ‘Friday Round-Up’, and Roy gives it a perfunctory scroll around eleven while he waits for the kettle. It’s the sort of day where he’s not expected anywhere by anyone; Nelson Road’s a ghost town as nearly all the team makes the most of the early weeks of between seasons time, Roy’s sister and niece fully occupied by work and school, and Keeley—

He puts her out of his mind again immediately. Roy hasn’t spoken more than a word or two to Keeley since the disastrous night Jamie and himself had wound up at her front door, and he can’t imagine she would want to hear from him now. A lifetime of teaching himself the sort of off-the-pitch social cues most people just seemed to instinctively know never prepared him for the bone-melting embarrassment of being completely off the mark, of being so incorrect that you might as well have traversed off the map entirely. 

Sure, Roy knew now that his belief that Keeley and himself would end up back together wasn’t him reading the situation and signals appropriately, but something more akin to wishful thinking. The most mortifying and horribly revealing sort of wishful thinking. 

‘—benefit both parties to meet face to face in the upcoming weeks to discuss the potential advantages of your inclusion on our coaching staff, as you come highly recommended by Coach Lasso—’ 

Roy abruptly pauses his halfhearted navel gazing and rereads the body of the e-mail over again, and then once more. He flips out of his email app to his contacts, slapping his thumb over Ted’s contact once, and then twice to press ‘call’. 

“Why the fuck is a Kansas football team offering me a job?” He demands as soon as the line picks up. 

There’s a soft pause, and Ted replies with, “I do not remember ordering a Roy Kent wake-up call, but you know what, I’m not mad about it. Though I think I would like a, just a pinch of clarification. But a pinch like my gramma would use a pinch of shredded cheese for potato soup, y’know, an amount you feel with your heart.” 

With a perverse sort of anger at the sensation, Roy feels his annoyance slowly shrivel up as Ted continues being Ted at him from the other side of the Atlantic. 

“Sorry,” he grunts finally, eying his kettle like it’s personally wounded him. “It’s not too early? I’ll call back.” 

“Oh no no,” Ted says, and makes a noise like he’s stretching his way out of bed. “And miss whatever this is? Not on your life, Fanny Brice.” 

[bisluthq]

to be fair matty does not look well at all lol i don't think it's related like to taylor directly (we wouldn't ever know anyway and to meEe both can't stand each other rn. like at all) but it probably has something to do with the hate he's been getting since may 2023 (self-inflicted tbh) ans swifties. even his fans who aren't maylors and don't hate gabbriette (gabby has nothing to do with it and isn't responsible for a grown ass man, people who blame her are misogynists asf) realized this after that spiral back in november and he admitted it. i don't like him anymore but i hope he gets better anyway.

no swiftie thinks tom hiddleston is miserable afaik but i would say that thinking your fave's ex to be pinning for them is very much part of stan culture. i think it's ridiculous but like it's just wishful thinking and self projecting. matty fans think taylor wants him back while matty dgaf, joe fans think taylor is still not over joe even though she left him, swifties think joe is not over her in the year of 2025 even though he never gave anyone any reason for anyone to think that. selenators think justin still wants selena even though that man is married, just had a baby and shows no sign of wanting her back, and so it goes 😂

it makes a modicum of sense to me like psychologically because stans obviously love whichever person they stan right and I think they can’t comprehend like… not loving that person. Like I think they can’t understand that these are real people with real human emotions and much like you know you can get over your bf/gf/husband/wife and make them your ex and then like be very over your ex soooo can celebs. Also, and I find this interesting too, stans always link media/the persona to the problems the couple face. (I don’t mean what you’re saying about Matty and how the online hate gets to him personally which I think is very true). Like everything that happens to celebs must, to stans, be linked to fans or moments we witness and that’s just so naive to me? Because again, these are real people. So presumably much of the shit that pisses them off about each other has fuck all to do with their jobs/circumstances and everything to do with like… how we sometimes just get over people because that’s how life works. I know I harp on and on about it but I just don’t believe that the bulk of fights/issues these people have have to do with an article or what Jenny from Kansas said on Twitter yk like they’re ALL more likely to be arguing about regular boring shit (like idk the guy leaving clutter around lol like my bf likes these little cappuccino sachet thingies and he never throws the empties away and it drives me fucking mental and I said this to a friend and her bf does a similar thing and now I’ve been surveying women and yes men are useless at throwing away stuff like WTF frankly speaking like I’m a messy person but I know how bins work???) than they are about Daily Mail articles. Just realistically.

[81scorp]

Constructive criticism: Supergirl and Jonah Hex

Ah yes, Supergirl and Jonah Hex.

Supergirl (1984)

When Alexander Salkind and his son Ilya bought the movie rights to Superman they also bought the rights to the character of Supergirl, should any sequel or spin-off occur. Supergirl was originally planned to appear in Superman 3 in a plot line intended to set up a standalone film, but in the end her character was removed. Before production began on Superman 3 the Salkinds announced that they were planning a Supergirl film. Originally the plot was to center around Supergirl rescuing Superman, who would be portrayed as her cousin and mentor, but the film was heavily rewritten after Reeve chose not to be involved.

The movie didn`t do well at the box office and Hollywood took this as a sign that people don`t like female led superheromovies. When in reality, people like movies wether they are female led or not, as long as they are good.

I remember watching this on TV when I was but a wee little kid. I liked several parts but overall, something about the movie just gave me that feeling that it could have been better. It was hard for me to pinpoint what it was about the movie that made me feel that way. Then I realized that Kara seems to forget the whole thing about her home being in danger after coming to Earth. And her naive personality is likeable at first but gets old after a while. This movie would make more sense if Kara had suffered some kind of amnesia to make her forget the threat to her her homeworld.

So, with that said... if I could turn back time by flying around the Earth in superspeed, what would I have changed?

Plot

Somewhere in outer space (Because I`m not a big fan of the whole "Transdimensional innerspace" thing.) A group of Kryptonians are living on an asteroid in the city of Argo. Zaltar, a scientist, is doing experiments with the Omegahedron, a powerful source of energy. He has, in his own words, "borrowed" it and plans to put it back where it belongs after he`s finished his experiment. While he`s doing this, a less powerful version of the Omegahedron that can only sustain Argo city for a few days, is taking the place of the real one. (I`m going more for science-fiction than whimsical fantasy in my version.) Something goes wrong and the Omegahedron is sucked out into space. Kara jumps into a pod and chases after it. (But can`t they create a new, fully functional Omegahedron? Yes, but that would take years and they don`t have years, they have days.)

Kara flies through some kind of cosmic storm that strikes her pod and knocks her out. Both the Omegahedron and her pod crashes on Earth. She wakes up with memory loss, wanders around, lost and disoriented and comes to a farm, the Kent farm. The only one who lives on the Kent farm nowadays is Lana Lang, she gives Kara a place to stay and some food to eat. Since Kara can`t remember her name Lana comes up with a few name suggestions; Lois, Lucy, Selina, Diana and Linda. Kara likes the name Linda and takes it.

Meanwhile, somewhere else in Kansas: Delores Winters, an actress, walks over to her neighbour, Prof. Hugo Ultmann, (later we find out that that`s not his real name) and puts some mail in his mailbox. The stupid mailman put some of Ultmann`s mail in her mailbox by mistake. Prof. Ultmann is a man in his sixties, has a weak, frail body and walks with crutches. Inside his house he meets his assistant: Jake Simmons, who tells him about the amazing thing he found last night. He thought it was an ordinary meteor but it was something much more, some kind of alien technology; the Omegahedron. Simmons and Ultmann get in a car and drives to a warehouse that Ultmann owns. The Professor is an angry, bitter old man, who hates superhumans. He`s convinced that Superman is a trouble magnet, if it wasn`t for him they wouldn`t have to worry about threats from outter space*. He tried to warn his colleagues at S.T.A.R. Labs, but no one believed him, they called him crazy. Superman may not be on Earth now, but he can come back, and when he does, Ultmann must be ready to fight him with every means necessary. He believes that if he destroys Superman Earth will be safe from whatever threat that comes with him and sees this alien orb as a ticket to achieve this goal. They enter the warehouse and we see a bunch of high-tech machines, like a teleportation platform which is not yet finished. Everytime he`s tried to teleport something with it the object in question just gets disintegrated. It also requiers a lot of energy, and he hasn`t found an energy source strong enough to power it longer than a few seconds... until now. Most of the High-tech stuff he has is technology that Brainiac left on Earth that he has reversed egineered. Ultmann appreciates the irony: using tech from an alien threat to fight an alien threat. He has hired a bunch of guys and given them bulletproof high-tech suits that increases their strength, allows them to fly and shoot energy from tiny cannons on their wrists. In the background there is something the size of a bus that is hidden under a giant tarp (I think that`s the correct word). He has a habit of scratching his chin with his pinkie (this will come back later). He has also built some kind of machine the size of a refridgerator that has two helmets attached to it. We don`t know what it does yet, but let`s call it Helmetron 2000 for now.

Act 2: Linda (formerly known as Kara) helps Lana Lang on the farm, she goes downtown to do some errands for Lana. Something bad happens (a car accident or something), Linda helps the people in need and discover that she has superpowers. being close to danger ignites a spark in her mind and she remembers a fraction of her lost memory, something about a city named Argo. Linda returns home and tells Lana who is shocked and wonders if Linda... is a Kryptonian like Clark?

Lana takes out a trunk and shows Linda some pictures and newspaper articles. Superman left Earth a few months ago to help S.T.A.R. Labs with some space exploration. Before he left he convinced Lana (who already knew his secret identity) to take over the Kent farm for him. Linda looks at a photo of Superman, that symbol on his chest looks familiar. Her clothes were torn when she saved the people from that accident, she`ll need a new outfit. Fortunately Lana knows about the Fortress of Solitude. Linda flies to the fortress, it gives her knowledge of Krypton and it`s history but it doesn`t spark any memories. She has no memories of living on Krypton, since she has lived on Argo all of her life. After a while she steps out of the fortress and has a nice supersuit of her own. She takes flight. She is now... Supergirl.

Ultmann`s HQ: News about a woman with superstrength who helped people in Smallville reaches Ultmann. Thanks to his own spy satellite (Yes, he`s that paranoid) he finds out where she is at the moment (flying back to Kansas). He calculates where she will most likely end up and sends his goons to the capitol of Kansas to meet her there.

Later, Topeka, Kansas: Ultmann`s goons show up in their high-tech suits. Supergirl shows up, the goons attack her, she defeats them. Fighting them sparks another lost memory, something about a man named Zaltar. Her fight gets the public`s attention. A woman with the same powers as Superman and a similar suit? News about this Supergirl reaches Metropolis and Perry White yells at Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen to get their butts over there and find out everything they can about this superheroine.

Ultmann`s HQ: Ultmann`s paranoia grows, he believes that Supergirl has come to Earth to convince everyone that she`s good while secretly preparing the way for an alien invasion. He realizes that he has to step up his game and gives Simmons Superpowers; Electrokinesis. Simmons calls himself Deathbolt.

The Kent farm: Linda shows off her new suit to Lana and tells her about her fight with the goons. The phone rings. It`s Lois Lane. She`s on her way to Smallville with Jimmy and wonders if Lana might be able to help them find out where this "Supergirl" is. (Lois knows that asking Lana is a longshot, she probably doesn`t know anything about finding superpeople but Lois is willing to try anything to get an interview.) Lana looks at Linda and says that she`ll see what she can do. (Note: In this universe Lois and Lana knows Superman`s secret identity** and Lois knows that Lana knows and vice versa. Jimmy however, doesn`t know a thing.)

Smallville: Lois and Jimmy arrives and are greeted by Supergirl. Lois gets her interview. Linda flies away, looking for something that can spark more memories.

She hears a strange signal that comes from a junkyard, she lands to investigate and is ambushed by Deathbolt. Deathbolt attacks her with lightning and Ultmann, who sits in a van just outside the junkyard, disorients her with sound cannons that he has placed all over the place. They corner her and make her stand on a platform. Just as Ultmann presses a button Supergirl sees the generator powering the platform and by using her X-Ray vision she sees what is powering the generator: a small orb the size of a baseball. It looks vaguely familiar to her. Ultmann pushes the button. Supergirl disappears. Ultmann feels triumphant. He destroyed Supergirl! He is an ubermensch! A superior man! An ultra-human! No wait,... An Ultra-Humanite!

An alien spaceship: Supergirl materializes. A calm voice talks to her through loudspeakers. It asks her questions as it guides her through the corridors. What Supergirl doesn`t know is that the owner of the ship is exposing her to red kryptonite. The door to the ship`s bridge opens and she is greeted by the owner of the voice. He`s bald, has green skin and appears to be some kind of robot or cyborg. Ghasp! It`s Brainiac!

He points to a nearby planet and tells her that he`s been trying to explore and collect data from it but he has met resistance. The people on the planet seems to have a guardian fighting for them. Brainiac wants Supergirl to take care of that guardian. Supergirl, under the influence of the red kryptonite, agrees to help him. She flies to the planet, lands and causes havoc. The people on the planet flee in terror.

A child looks up in the sky and sees something. It`s a bird! No, wait, it`s a plane! No, wait... it`s him! A man lands on the ground, he wears a blue suit, a red cape and an S on his chest, it`s... Superman!

Superman sees the S on Supergirls suit, is surprised to find another Kryptonian, tries to reason with her, she attacks, they fight. during the fight more memories come back to her, it makes her unfocused, Superman sees this and once again tries to reason with her. She breaks free from the influence of the red kryptonite and with that regains all of her memories. She remembers her name, that her homeworld is dying and that the Omegahedron is on Earth in the hands of the bad guy! She sees the destruction she has caused. She is saddened, she is furious, she flies out into space to attack Brainic`s ship. Brainiac calmly activates the ship`s warp-drive and disappears. Supergirl is angry that he got away but also realizes that she has more important stuff to think about. She and Superman do the best they can to repair the damage she caused.

Later: Supergirl has explained everything to Superman, they both fly away, back to Earth.

Earth: Ultra-Humanite is getting weaker. Simmons wonder if there is anything he can do. U-H tells him not to worry, he can take care of this himself.

Meanwhile, Argo: The Generators that give the Kryptonians air and electricity are weakening. Zaltar is sorry for everything.

Act 3: Next day, Earth: Supergirl and Superman arrive. They find the Omegahedron which Simmons is now using to power a giant death-ray cannon the size of a bus. He fires the cannon at Supergirl but Superman takes the hit for her. (Yes, Supes knows that Kara could have taken the blast, but still, old habit I guess.) Supes is knocked out for a minute. Supergirl fights a bunch of U-H`s goons in their flying high-tech suits, which has now been upgraded. Superman gets back on his feet and destroys the cannon, he and Supergirl then both fight and defeat Simmons.

Supergirl finds Ultra-Humanite sitting in a chair next to the Helmetron 2000 wearing one of the helmets. He`s not responding, he`s a mindless vegetable.

Meanwhile, an Airport: Delores Winters is waiting for her flight to Brazil. Her flight is boarding, she gets up, takes her bag and scratches her chin with her pinkie.

Ghasp! Ultra-Humanite transferred his mind to her body! Just like he did in the comics!

Later: Superman, Supergirl and Lana talk a little. Supergirl mentions that she has taken the pod that she arrived to Earth in and stored it in the Fortress of Solitude. Superman feels that he should take a break from space-exploration and stay on Earth for a while. Kara takes the Omegahedron, flies away, returns to Argo and restores it.

The End

*Like Zod, Ursa and Non from Superman 2, or Brainiac from (my version of) Superman 3.

** This takes place in the same universe as my rewritten version of Superman 2 where Superman didn`t erase Lois`s memory.

This took a while to write because I only had the beginning and the end finished in my head but not the middle. The inclusion of Brainiac was a last minute addition.

I think it would be possible (at least on a technical level) to make this movie in 1984 or 1985, since Star Wars: A new hope (which had impressive effects for it`s time) was made in 1977.

Jonah Hex (2010)

It was the 2010s and someone must have realized that there are more characters in the DC Comics universe than just Superman and Batman. (I know, crazy right?) And since Hex`s comic technically takes place in the same universe as the DC superheroes he must also have a superpower, right? He doesn`t? Let`s give him one then. the film was released on June 18, 2010, by Warner Bros. Pictures and was a commercial failure. (It could have helped if it had been better and hadn`t been released on the same day as Toy Story 3.) This is another one of those movies that I haven`t seen, but I know what happens in it because of reviews that I`ve seen and synopses I`ve read.

So, with that said... If I could run so fast that I could screw the laws of physics, travel backwards in time and change this movie, what would I have changed?

Jonah having superpowers

The first one´s a no-brainer: NO SUPERPOWERS. It would be better if Jonah was just an ordinary bad-ass. Instead of literally talking to dead folks it would be better if he found out how and why they were killed by detective work. (Not that he would carry some kinda forensic kit on him, but more like being able to read signs since he was trained by native americans.)

Jonah´s look

It has been popular to depict him with a big/exposed eye. That would recuire CGI and cost a lot of money and time.

How a bout this: he could carry an eye-patch. I also remember that I read an old Jonah Hex comic a while ago that didn´t depict him with an exposed eye but instead an ordinary sized eye with no iris. This effect could be achieved with an ordinary contact lense.

So you could have: CGI, CGI with eye-patch, eye-patch with no CGI or contact lense.

Personally I`d go with a contact lense.

Plot

It begins in medias res with Jonah, already an experienced bountyhunter, finding and shooting a bunch of bandits. After this we get a flashback that explains most of Jonah`s Origin.

As a child Jonah was left out in the wilderness by his father but saved and raised by native americans. He developed feeling for a girl named White Fawn but another young man in the tribe named Noh-Tante was also intersted in her, so there was some conflict between them. When Jonah became an adult he left the tribe to fight in the civil war, joined the confederate side and and earned a commission as a lieutenant in the 4th Cavalry. Jonah formed a friendship with a man named Jeb Turnbull and a man named Edward Cantwell, the latter saved his life on at least one occasion. After a while Jonah realized that what the confederate side fought for was wrong, deserted his post and went to the nearest Union camp, Fort Charlotte, sneaking into the commander's quarters to surrender directly. He refused to tell the commander where his unit was stationed, but one of his aides was able to determine their location by studying the clay from the shoes of Jonah's horse. The Confederates were caught by surprise, and all of them were captured. The commander, humiliated by Jonah easily penetrating the fort's poor security, falsely praised him for his "assistance" in the attack. Hex punched him and was sentenced to solitary confinement. When he was released he found out that Jeb had been killed by Union soldiers and Edward Cantwell had gone M.I.A.

Jonah came across his old tribe and found that Noh-Tante had since married White Fawn, and White Fawn was not happy about it, she still had feelings for Jonah. Jonah and Noh-Tante started to argue and it led to a fight. it was decided that they would settle their dispute through combat. Noh-Tante sabotaged Jonah's tomahawk so it would break, forcing Jonah to stab him with a knife. Enraged that Jonah had killed his son and broken the rules of combat, the chieftain had him restrained and disfigured with the "mark of the demon" by scarring the right side of his face with a heated tomahawk. With the mark serving as proof of his wickedness, Jonah was banished from the tribe.

In his exile he met and befriended a native american man named Ke-Woh-No-Tay. (In the comics Ke-Woh-No-Tay is a white guy who grew up with native americans and learned their culture and ways, but in this (nonexisting) move it would be better if he was an actual native american.)

Jonah became a bountyhunter, met a man named Arbee Stoneham, who had some experience in the field of bountyhunting. He gave Jonah a few tips and some advice. Jonah`s first bounty was a bankrobber... who turned out to be his old friend Edward Cantwell. Jonah, still valuing their old friendship, wanted to give Cantwell a second chance so that he could become a better person. But then Arbee Stoneham showed up, killed Cantwell, disarmed Hex and stole his guns. Hex vowed revenge.

Flashback ends.

(To help differentiate between Jonah`s past and his present he could wear an eye-patch (after he gets his face burned) in the flashback and no eye-patch in the present. It could symbolize that the older and more experienced Hex doesn`t care if people see him as a monster.)

We meet Quentin Turnbull, a rich plantation owner and Jeb Turnbull`s father who blames Jonah for the death of his son.

Act 2: Turnbull hires five ex-Confederates to take him down, Jonah manages to kill all of them but innocent bystanders get hurt in the process by the ex-Confederates. This angers Jonah, he can understand why someone wants him dead, but if someone has a problem with him they should focus their vendetta on him and only him and leave innocent bystanders alone! He finds out who sent them and tries to kill Turnbull, but Turnbull was prepared for the possibility that Jonah would survive and sends some hired guns to intercept him. Jonah kills them as well but gets mortally wounded in the process. Fortunately he is found and saved by Ke-Woh-No-Tay who takes him to an old friend who nurses him back to health; a native american woman named Tall Bird. Back to full health Jonah decides to continue his revenge journey towards Turnbull. Ke-Woh-No-Tay and Tall Bird don`t like this, they didn`t save his life just so he could go and get himself killed again. Ke-Woh-No-Tay tries to talk Jonah out of it but Jonah is stubborn. Ke-Woh-No-Tay realizes that he can`t stop him and decides to tag along from a distance so that he can assist Jonah when things look too tough for him.

Act 3: Jonah reaches Turnbull`s home and fights some of his hired guns. At one point Jonah gets attacked from behind but his attacker is shot with an arrow fired by Ke-Woh-No-Tay. Jonah fights Turnbull, a fire breaks out in Turnbull`s mansion, Turnbull disappears in the flames and is later presumed dead (I haven`t decided yet if I want to save him for a sequel or not). Ke-Woh-No-Tay is glad that Jonah survived and the two part ways. There`s just one thing left for Jonah to do now.

Jonah finds the town where Arbee Stoneham is living but discovers that Arbee is now an old man in a wheelchair (as a result from a gun-fight years ago) who doesn`t even remember him. Seeing no reason to kill him, Jonah buys him a beer and they talk a little. Jonah then gets up on his horse, visits Jeb Turnbull`s grave to pay his respects. He then gets up on his horse and rides away, towards new adventures.

The End

This one was easier to write since I already had a beginning, middle and an end finished in my head.

I haven`t seen the movie but I have read some issues of the comic and the comic is very pure Western. It is self-contained with, very rarely, any connections to the larger, mainstream Superhero DC universe. It is very much capable of standing on it`s own and does so regularely. That`s why I didn`t include any nods to said universe, or any Sci-fi gimmicks.

Buut... If I were to include any nods to a bigger, connected DC universe I`d do it sparingly, like this:

Early in the second act: Jonah could walk through a town and one of it`s inhabitants (let`s call him Hunter) could look at Jonah as if he`d just seen a celebrity.

Jonah: "Do I know you?"

Hunter: "Oh, sorry! I thought you looked familiar."

Then, after the movie is over we could get a Mid-Credit scene where we meet Hunter again.

It`s night, Hunter is carrying a satchel, standing outside a town, looking at his watch. The clock turns twelve, a time machine the shape of a sphere materializes. It opens, out steps a woman named Bonnie Baxter.

Bonnie: "You got the journal?"

Hunter (holds up the satchel): "Sure did! I also met a historical figure."

(That`s right, it`s Rip Hunter, the time traveller.)

This little cameo could be fun, but it wouldnt`t be super necessary for the movie to work. That`s why I wrote it in a way so that it could easily be removed from the movie without hurting the narrative.

I have to admit that I like the scene with the gatling gun on the horse, I think I`ll keep it in my version.

And that`t how I would do it.

It is of course very easy for me to write these because I have the luxury of hindsight. And unlike the filmmakers I didn`t have a movie studio full of corporate suits breathing down my neck, focus grouping the movie to death, forcing in unnecessary changes and pressuring me to get it made before a deadline.

Why do I write these?

For several reasons. I`m nitpicky. Sometimes the movies I criticize aren`t bad, I just like my own ideas better. Sometimes the movies I critize are bad. I care about good storytelling and it`s a fun excerize in creativity and script doctoring.

But also because I have a lot of of free time.

--------------------------------------------

Started writing this 2024-07-27

If you`ve been following me for a while you know that these two movies have been on my to-do list for quite some time. Glad to finally get them out of my head.

Comments are appreciated.

Other movies on my Constructive Criticism list that you can look forward to

The Spirit (2008) The Dark Knight trilogy

And as usual: English is not my first language, so if my writing doesn`t seem to flow naturally, you know why.

You can find me on artstation and my sister has a patreon if you`re interested.

[13-legged-larry]

People in the US.

If, like me, you keep getting told to vote but don’t know how or where or who anything about voting, I have something that could help.

One of my professors directed me to this website:

www.vote411.org

[Image ID: the home page of the Vote 411 website.

“Election information you need. Brought to you by the League of Women Voters Education Fund.

There are three links:

1) Register to vote

2) Check your registration

3) Find what’s on your ballot

End Image ID]

If you click the third option, it’ll take you to this screen:

[Image ID:

A screen shot of a pop-up menu on the website. There is a checklist (five options) of benefits provided by this website:

1) See what's on your ballot,

2) Check your voter registration,

3) Find your polling place,

4) Discover upcoming debates in your area,

5) And much more!

Below, it says in bolded text: Enter your address to get started: There are four boxes to fill out, for Street Address, City, State, and Zip Code.

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Then you’ll get directed to this screen, which will be different from mine in some ways unless you’re from Kansas also.

[Image ID:

A screenshot of my state's (Kansas) upcoming ballots. The biggest one at the top is Tuesday, March 19, 2024, for the Presidential Primary. Below is a list of registration deadlines:

Online: Tuesday, February 20, 2024.

By mail (postmarked): Tuesday, February 20,2024.

In person: Tuesday, February 20, 2024. Below that is the next ballots.

There is one for Tuesday, August 6, 2024, for State Primary. There is a link to view details.

Below that is Tuesday, November 5, 2024, for the General Election. Again there is a link for details.

End Image ID]

Using this I was also able to find who all was on the ballot for President, and some of them have answers for issues on their campaigns, which is why I personally made the decision (and I also encourage you, if you’re able) to vote for Marianne Williamson. She’s pro-ceasefire and has laid out a new Bill of Rights to guarantee living wages.

Please spread this so more people can know when and where to vote.