Tumgik
#anyway...this is the last comic of this tiny 'series' and i will dip for a bit after this:) finishing up other work etc
nailsinmywall · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
deserved ..... (that's what little half brothers get when they secretly follow their super ultra cool brother around)
820 notes · View notes
starryeyedstories · 3 years
Text
Across the Hall: Future
Bonus one-shot set after the Across the Hall series
Pairing: Poe Dameron x female!reader (Modern!AU)
Summary: Poe picks you up from drinks with the girls and you drunkenly say something that will definitely be talked about in the morning. 
Set: Between chapter 15 and the epilogue
Word count: ~2000
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mentions of starting a family, nudity (non-sexual), teeny tiny hint of implied smut at the end
A/N: Happy May the 4th! 
Tumblr media
Poe heard you and your friends before he saw you. 
Your drunken giggles and singing spilled out onto the street from the foyer of the bar you were waiting in for him to collect you, and he couldn't hold back the affectionate grin on his face at the sound of you having fun. You had been working far too hard recently and he was glad you had made it out for a girls night; you deserved it, and you needed it. 
He had had a quiet night in on the sofa with Beebee, your darling corgi, watching a few rerun episodes of old sitcoms and keeping his phone close by so that he would see your message when you needed a lift home. As it happened, however, his phone lit up several times throughout the night with texts from you, each one making him smile more than the last.
Message received from: Mrs Dameron @ 19:04
I’m with the girls now, love you lots xxx
Message received from: Mrs Dameron @ 22:12
I love you soooo much. Give Beebee cuddles from me right now plz xxxxx
Message received from: Mrs Dameron @ 23:47
Pick me up pretty please? I miss my boys xxxxxx
As soon as your last message arrived, Poe was up from the sofa and slipping his jacket and shoes on, grabbing his car keys and promising Beebee that he would be back soon with his mother, as he had always called you. After all, you insisted that Beebee was your first son, and who was he to argue?
You had told him the name of the bar you were going to earlier, and it didn't take him long to arrive outside it. As he stepped out of the car, you and your friends stumbled out onto the street. 
“Poe!” you cheered loudly, and he raised his eyebrows in amusement at how obviously tipsy you were; your hair that you had styled so carefully before going out was rumpled, your makeup was smudged, and you were smiling the smile that you usually reserved for the safety of your own home. He watched as you turned triumphantly to your friends. “I told you he’d be the first husband here!”
He chuckled as your friends let out a cheer, one of them congratulating you on having the best husband in the universe. 
“You ready to head home, baby?” he asked, holding his hand out to you, and your eyes lit up. 
“Yes!” 
As you bade your friends goodnight and got into the car, Poe paused with his hand on the door handle on his side and turned back to face your friends. 
“Do any of you need a lift home?” he offered, “There’s room in the car.”
“We’re gonna call a cab in a bit,” Jannah told him- she seemed to be the closest one in the group to being sober, “Thanks anyway, Poe. You’re a sweetie!”
He chuckled at the compliment- maybe she wasn't as sober as she seemed. 
“Okay, well text (Y/N) so we know you all made it home okay,” he told the group as he got into the driver’s seat, not batting an eyelid as you leaned over him to wave excitedly at your girls. He occupied himself with starting the engine whilst you got settled back in your seat, and then leaned over you to put your seatbelt on. 
“You’re amazing,” you gushed, beaming at him as he carefully adjusted your seatbelt, “You come and pick me up, and you make sure my friends are okay, and you’re just a superhero.”
Poe arched an eyebrow at you in amusement as he started driving.
“That's my line.”
The roads were quiet given the late hour, and Poe took advantage of every opportunity to glance over at you lovingly. You were singing along to the radio, messing up most of the words in your intoxicated state, and he loved how completely carefree you looked with your head resting on the window and an easy smile on your painted lips. There had been a time when he had went weeks without seeing you so happy, and he never wanted to go through that again. 
“I love our house,” you announced as your husband parked the car outside it, and he chuckled at you. You turned to face him with wide eyes. “I’m serious! It’s the best house in the world!”
“It is,” he agreed, unclipping his seatbelt and reaching across to do the same to yours, “Let’s get you inside.”
Getting you out of the car was complicated by you suddenly deciding that you wanted to dance, and he compromised by letting you waltz him up the path to your front door. As he unlocked the door, you wrapped your arms around his waist and buried your face in his back. 
“I love you,” you mumbled into his leather jacket, “I think I’m drunk.”
Poe snorted in amusement, covering your hands with his. “You definitely are...but I love you too.”
“Yay!”
He didn't even try to hold in his laughter at your delighted exclamation, nor did he try to stop laughing as you stepped through the door ahead of him and squealed in excitement at the sight of Beebee bumbling towards you. As he turned back to you from locking the door for the night, he was greeted with the sight of you cradling the corgi like a baby. Judging by the contented way that Beebee’s tongue was lolling from his lips, he was more than happy to have your tipsy attention. 
“I love my baby Beebee so much,” you were mumbling into his white and tan fur, pressing kisses to his head between your words, “You’ll always be my baby boy, Beebee, even when me and your dad have a human baby. I hope that happens soon because then I’ll have two babies!”
Poe’s eyes widened to almost comical proportions at your words; you didn't seem to realise the gravity of what you had said as you continued fussing over Beebee. The two of you had discussed having a family before you had gotten married and you knew you both wanted kids eventually, but the thought that you might be ready now made his heart pound with excitement; he had been ready for months.
“Poe, when are we gonna have babies?” you asked curiously, and he forced himself to swallow his excitement for the time being- you were drunk and in no shape to have that conversation. 
“We’ll talk about it in the morning, sweetheart,” he promised as you set Beebee down on the floor, “Let’s just get you to bed.”
“Okay!”
He climbed the stairs a step behind you, his hands gentle on your waist to keep you steady. You were babbling away about something- he thought it might have been the new gloves the hospital was stocking and which you hated with a passion, even when sober- but all he could think about was what you had said about having a baby, and how devastated he would be if it turned out to just be your drunken mind talking. 
“Think you can get your pyjamas on by yourself, baby?” he asked when you made it into your bedroom, Beebee running ahead of the two of you and climbing up the little staircase you had bought for him at the end of your bed. He curled up on the mattress with a sleepy huff, as if the two of you were taking far too long to get ready for bed in his opinion. 
“I don’t need pyjamas,” you announced, and Poe watched in amusement as you kicked your heels off before quickly stripping out of your outfit and diving beneath the duvet. 
“That’s that settled then,” he commented, picking your abandoned clothes up and tossing them into the laundry basket. He fished your phone out of your jacket pocket and smiled at the texts from your friends on the screen, confirming that they had all gotten home safely. “You gonna take your makeup off?”
You groaned from beneath the duvet. “Can’t be bothered.”
He chuckled and grabbed your makeup wipes from your dressing table, setting your phone down at the same time, before sitting on the edge of your side of the bed. 
“C’mon, let me see your face and I’ll do it for you.”
You flipped the duvet down so that it was tucked up to your chin, grinning up at your husband as he gently held your face still with one hand and wiped your makeup off with the other. Your grin mellowed to a soft smile as he carefully wiped the mascara from under your eyes, watching the expression of concentration on his handsome face.
“I love you,” you told him quietly, “You always look after me.”
Poe’s eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you. “That’s what I’m here for, gorgeous.” He leaned down to kiss your forehead. “Get some sleep. I have a feeling you’re gonna have a very sore head in the morning.”
“Mm, you’re probably right.” You rolled over to bury your face in your pillow, and he barely caught what you said next, your words muffled in the fabric. “But I know you'll look after me then too.”
He smiled to himself, letting his hand drift from your cheek down the line of your neck and shoulder and along the curve of your waist until it settled on your hip, giving it a light squeeze even as your soft snores filled your bedroom. 
“Always.”
___________________
The groan that you let out upon waking up was almost inhuman in its pathetic state.
Your head felt as though your skull had been tightened around your brain, your mouth was like sandpaper, and your eyes only tolerated being open for a second or two before the bright sunlight streaming through your bedroom window made your head spin. You were barely aware of the mattress dipping beside you.
“Good afternoon, party animal,” Poe teased you, and you groaned again.
“Never let me drink again,” you grumbled into your pillow. 
He rubbed your hip sympathetically, hesitating before speaking. “How much of last night do you remember?”
You peeked out from under the duvet at him in suspicion. “What did I do?” you asked slowly, unsure if you wanted to know the answer judging by the nervous look on his face.
“Nothing. Just...” Poe trailed off before taking a deep breath and looking you in the eye, “You said you wanna have a baby.”
Your eyes widened in surprise.
“I did?”
“You did.”
“Oh. And what did you say?”
“I said we’d talk about it this morning.”
Silence fell between the two of you- not an awkward silence, just one that you both knew the breaking of would mean something there would be no coming back from. Eventually, you worked up the courage to clear your throat and speak. 
“Do you?” you asked quietly, meeting his eyes, “Want to have a baby, I mean.”
Poe’s eyes were brimming with emotion, with hope and love and just a hint of nerves, as he let out a shuddering breath.
“There's nothing I want more,” he admitted, before raising his eyebrows in question, “Do you, though? I know you were drunk and I don’t want to-”
You cut him off with a hand over his lips, and you grinned at him. 
“You, Mr Dameron-” you began, reaching with your free hand to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, “-are wearing far too many clothes for us to make a baby.”
His eyes widened as he understood your meaning, your hand falling from his lips as he grinned back at you, excitement and relief and sheer love in his gaze as he looked at you and saw his future.
“I like the way you think, Mrs Dameron.”
A/N: I hope you enjoyed revisiting the Damerons! If you did, comments would mean the absolute world to me! I hope you've had a wonderful day because you absolutely deserve it xxx
234 notes · View notes
Text
One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader
A/N: Part Four! If you’d like to be tagged, please sent an ask or message. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3
PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Unrequited feelings. Online personality problems. Guilt. Nothing too wild, yet!
Word Count: Roughly 3,500
“Y/N,” Arrow's pinched up little face made you turn her way as you blinked awake. It took you a moment to understand what was happening. Her almost too dark to be blonde hair was mused from her night of unrest. “I got you a present.”
“Arrow, it's....” A look towards the clock made you groan, “It's four am.”
“I couldn't wait.” Five years old and afraid of almost nothing, she'd braved the dark night to make it across the patio in the back that led to your space. You sat up, yawning. Rubbing over your cramped neck. Sleep hadn't come easily to you, either.
In the end, you'd found yourself scrolling through Tumblr. Something every member of the cast had advised you not to do. But, the curiosity ate at you until you'd given into the urge. Only to end up feeling worse about where you stood.
There'd been so many posts calling out what you were afraid of. Hours had been wasted searching over every response and like. Seeing just how many people believed the worst in you. The impulse stalking of the fandom left you exhausted.
“What is it?” Your lips smacked as you pulled the blanket away to sit up. Moving back to the moment you were stuck in. The pajamas you were wearing had been a Christmas gift 'from' J.J the year before. Mint green elephant covered shorts and a cami.  It was perfect for combating the warm air that would hit as soon as you stepped outside.
“I made it at school,” She stated gleefully, lifting the little clay figure the art program she had asked to be involved with over the summer had allowed her to make. A tiny, uneven flower stared back at you. Haphazardly painted a deep purple. Making your heart flutter from such a simple action. God, I love this kid. “Do you like it?” The nerves were clear in her voice as she watched you look over it.
“Are you kidding? It's great,” The grin that tugged at your lips made her smile brightly. “Totally worth the wake up call.” You moved to give it a place of honor along the shelf that held little mementos all of the kids passed your way. As you walked back to the bed, she pulled your blanket over her. Snuggling in with a yawn. Your bed being invaded happened more than most would have expected. There was no point in resisting it. When you were fully wrapped in your blanket, she curled into your side. Listening to the sound of your heartbeat. “Thank you, sweetheart.” The small kiss to her forehead left her glowing so happily as her eyes closed that you wanted to cry. What you wouldn't give to have a child like her of your own.
That's how Jensen found you two later that morning. His lips pressed up at the soft snore that left his daughter's throat as you breathed gently below her. Your hand rested over her back as she held onto you. Preventing her from rolling in her sleep. A habit that typically led to kicking if you weren't careful.
He hadn't entered the side home you had taken up since you'd moved in. It had been an unspoken rule, allowing you to have some sort of privacy. Even if his kids broke it on a regular basis, he'd resisted. Until that morning, anyway.
It only carried three small rooms. A kitchen that extended to a living room, a bathroom, and the bedroom. He told himself to just check on you. But, instead, he'd found himself taking in the small pieces that told of the person residing inside of the home.
You'd added your own little touch to the place. Pictures of your life from before he'd known you and others with the kids, the Padaleckis, and other members of the cast you'd come to care for dotted around the walls and tables. Drawings covered your fridge from the littles. A bookshelf carried an array of topics. Everything from romance to biology. Letting him peak a little more closely into the woman who was so entwined with his life. You were smarter than even he'd given you credit for looking over the array. There was a tank resting in the corner. A large frog  had stared back at him when he'd peered in before thrashing away. The last thing he'd expected to see. Somehow, he imagined his kids to have been involved in that one.
His lips curled up further as he snapped a picture on his phone of the scene in the bedroom. Telling himself that it would be for you. A sweet little memory you wouldn't want to forget. As he tucked the device back into his pocket and prepared to walk away, Arrow spotted him. “Daddy?”
Her sitting up made your eyes blink open. Slowly, you came into focus. The sight of Jensen standing sheepishly at the foot of your bed had you jerking up and looking at the clock. With a muttered expletive, you threw yourself off the mattress. Reaching for the short silk robe that had been tossed over a cushioned bench the night before.
“I'm sorry,” You bleated out, tying the knot around your waist sloppily. Fully preparing to bolt and fix breakfast.
“It's fine,” He waved it off. Not bothered in the slightest. Relaxing some once he realized no one was shrieking at his intrusion. “Food's already done if ya want some.” His thick hands slid into his jean short pockets. The stretch of the green muscle top across his chest made you suck in a deep breath before forcing your eyes upwards. Only to zero in on that deep, pine gaze. “Just wanted to make sure you two were alright.” You wet your lips before jolting back to reality. Sending Arrow on her way to get some food. She went easily. But, her dad lingered behind, “Slumber party?”
“She had a present,” You answered, reaching towards your dresser to grab your clothes for the day. As if that explained it all. At his waiting look, you sighed. Continuing the story. “She couldn't sleep. Too excited to give it to me, I guess. So, she broke in at four am.” He winced, opening his mouth to apologize, you were sure. You didn't give him the chance. “It was sweet, Jay. No biggie. I gave it its own little spot to shine.” A point towards the shelf you'd left it on had him moving forward.
It was different, somehow. Being alone with him in his home was safe. Familiar. In your room? It made the air squish out of your lungs. The closer he got, the harder it was to breathe.
When he finally stopped, he was near enough that you could practically feel the heat emitting off of him. The nerves you carried grew stronger as he took in each item that had been gifted to you. Taking the time to explore every one you'd held onto over the two years you'd been receiving them.
“They really love you,” He murmured without looking up. His lips curling at what was supposed to be a version of Garfield. Zeppelin had offered that one to you the year before after you'd read the comic to him that had been in the paper.
“I...I guess so.” You swallowed tightly, needing to escape the intimacy of the moment. Getting back to business was the right course of action. Would give you the chance to escape. “I'm just gonna hit the shower and then I'll get started-”
“Take the day off,” The order took you aback. He didn't give you time to recoup.“Grab some food and get out for a bit. I'm gonna take the kids over to the zoo in Dallas. Let them blow some stink off.”
“That's a three hour drive...one way.” Your brow quirked as you thought about all the horrors that could come from that one. Recouping faster than he'd expected. “You're a brave man, Jensen.” But, you didn't fight him. He had that hard look in his eye. As if daring you to argue. You liked your position to much to chance it. Instead, you moved a step back. “You guys coming straight home?” Telling yourself that you were only thinking about dinner got you nowhere. Instead, the lingering doubts danced in your mind.
“I, uh...I dunno, yet. I was plannin' on staying out. Depends on what they want to do, really,” He rubbed at the back of his neck; looking at the lost expression you held. Feeling his own guilt creeping in. “Probably should pack up some bags, huh?” He told himself you'd appreciate it in the end. Contrary to what you'd said? Everyone needed some alone time. And the scene he'd stumbled on told him that you weren't even getting nights to yourself.
“Just in case,” You agreed, holding the clothes you carried to your chest. Clutching them as if they'd carry you to safety. “Give me ten, and I'll help round them up.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you continued. “It's nothing major, Jay...It'll get you on the road faster. So they have time to goof off at the zoo.” Not because you needed to be needed. That's what you told yourself, anyway. “Is Cliff going?” The nod made you relax some. No harm could befall them with their guardian angel at their side. “Alright. Good. That settles it, then.” With that, you turned away. Padding barefoot towards the shower.
Not even halfway to the animal park, Jensen found himself regretful. Whether it was because he'd left you behind or because he hadn't left you behind sooner, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it's a bit of both. As your name left Justice Jay's lips for the fifth time in under a minute, he definitely settled in at the that last option. It was definitely the first one.
The kids were excited, of course. That alone made it worth it. Rescued exotic animals filled the small trail zoo that Austin carried. It had captivated them for the longest time. The Dallas one was bigger, though. Had more attractions.
Most importantly? It was something different. New. Jensen wasn't a huge fan of change, himself. But, it was something he needed to get used to. A zoo trip was nothing more than dipping his toes into the ocean. Yet, it was a start.
The only problem? It just didn't seem to be quite the same without your presence. And that was the heart of the matter. Even Jensen had to acknowledge that point. He'd called it right when he'd said you were part of the family.
“Why didn't Y/N come? Is she sick?”
“Can we facetime Y/N? I want to show her the elephant! It matches her pajamas!”
“Dad! We gotta get Y/N this necklace! Or.... Oh! This! She'll love this scorpion!”
Cliff was amused by the antics. Watching the way his friend tried to change the subject a bit so that they could enjoy the moment without the lack of you leaving a shadow. It worked for a short time, and then the name would come forth again.
Eventually, they accepted you weren't there. The questions were dropped. Instead, it appeared in an after thought. Such as your favorite animal. The smell of a food you loved. How much you'd love to play with them in the misting fans.
Jensen allowed it. Knowing that you were too big of a part in their lives to brush off. Instead, he found himself joining in. Noting that you would have been enthusiastically pointing the camera around, ensuring that the memories hadn't been forgotten. It was enough for the kids to agree; wrapping their arms around him and each other for images that you'd see later. They'd ensure it.
It didn't take long for him to realize that he was going back home that night. An overnight trip like he'd begun to plan wasn't fair to the kids. They wanted their home. Wanted you.
After dinner, he was back on the road. The fun had worn them out. All three of the young ones were out once their stomachs were full and the car was on the move.
“So...” Cliff started once the silence commenced, turning towards the man he called a friend.
His presence had kept what bit of attention Jensen had garnered down. Had helped ensure that the kids were all collected. Just as planned. Hell, he'd actually enjoyed the time out. The household was part of his family. Which is why he had no problem getting nosy.
“She needed a day off.” Ackles knew exactly where that one was going. After all, everyone else had asked him repeatedly. “What?” The knowing expression lining his bodyguard's face made his brow rise.
“Today is the first day I haven't seen her around one of your kids in the last two years.” He began tentatively. Treading with care. “Was she sick?”
“No.” The answer was hesitant. “No, I just...I thought she could use some time to herself.” The hum said that the response wasn't quite believed. Silence stretched between the men as headlights danced over them on the expressway. “Okay, fine... truth? I wanted some space with the kids.” He felt the familiar eyes gazing over him curiously as he steered the car. “She's...I dunno. Just there. Always. And...” How did someone put the feelings into words?
When you were there, it was just...different. He needed time with the kids to focus on what was coming. Where he would go in the future. On all those little things he'd finally be able to do. Even just taking the kids to the zoo, and giving you some much needed self care time was a step in the right direction. It was something he hadn't been able to do in ages. Gave you a chance to figure out what you'd do with your life as his family's changed majorly.
“Jay...” Cliff began slowly, unsure of just how well what he was going to ask was going to go over. “Are.. are you starting to...to look at other women, again?”
A heavy swallow filled the air, “It's only been two years. Don't be ridiculous. Dee...she was my heart. That wasn't what this is about.”
But, he couldn't deny it to himself. Not really. There'd been too many dreams of soft skin, small moans, and the old push and pull that he'd been lacking in his life for far too long. Jensen simply promised himself that he'd live without it. Danneel deserved that much from him. That never ending loyalty he'd promised her had to hold out.
“So, what is it?” There was no judgment. Simply curiosity. It made all the difference. With a huff, he slowly started to explain it all. Hoping maybe Cliff could offer some kind of advice that'd make everything start to make sense again.
“The world's not perfect, but it's not that bad.” The song by Alec Benjamin played throughout the bathroom you'd taken over. You sang along softly. Mindlessly letting the hot water and bubbles keep you relaxed. “If we got each other, and that's all we have? I will be your lover, and I'll hold your hand. You should know, I'll be there for you. When the world's not perfect. When the world's not kind. If we have each other, then we'll both be fine.”
Your mind moved to what the direction Jensen had sent it as you stared out at the lake. Watching the lights from a boat trail over the smooth water without really seeing it. You weren't hung up on your ex. No, it was the set of emerald eyes that had stolen your breath just that morning. A sigh left you as you sank down further into the bath. The sweet song twisted inside your chest.
Guilt swarmed you as you faced the feelings you were harboring. Danneel had been your friend. She'd given you a place in her home. And how did you repay her? By making googly eyes at her husband when he wasn't looking.
Every negative comment ran through your mind, again. Each one you felt to be deserved. That was the hardest part. It was all things you'd already thought yourself at some point or another. Only made more real by the strangers who typed it.
Maybe he's right...maybe I need more time away. The thought tangled your gut painfully, that time. Suddenly feeling more real at the day alone. But what choice did you have in the end?
Jensen had said he didn't want you to go, yet you couldn't quite buy into that. Not completely. He was going to have more time once the show ended. You weren't going to be nearly as needed. That's what the day had been about, in your eyes. It only made sense to start moving in that direction. If only it was as easy for you as it sounded.
When the car pulled into the driveway, Oscar's bark pulled you from the hole you were in. A peek to the security system that linked to your phone let you know who it was just before the suddenly too awake J.J shouted your name. The Ackles brood had returned home.
You barely had enough time to drain the tub and don your pajamas in the master bathroom before tiny fists knocked at the door. The noise and lights had alerted them to your presence. Telling you to meet them downstairs.
Oscar was bouncing on his front paws as you stepped into the sunken living room where the sudden chaos was ensuing. Shaking the grown out top knot on his forehead as he pounced the air. Icarus simply raised his gaze off of one of his many beds; taking in the scene around him before he huffed. Curling back into the plushness he was wrapped up in.
“Y/N! There was an elephant!”
“Dad ate so much and gassed up everything in the car!”
“Cliff took lots of pictures, so you could see!”
“I got you a scorpion!”
“Arrow is super tired, but she got you a hat!”
Zep and Justice ran over each other to get in every detail of the day as Jensen walked in the front door, carrying the still sleeping Arrow against his chest. Your nod his way told him to go ahead, you had the other two. Carefully, you got them to start speaking one by one.
You had to look through the pictures on the camera the father of the the kids had taken with him. It was necessary 'ooh' and 'ahh' everything thrust your way before they gave in to the urge to go back to sleep. Jensen had to chase them away to get them in bed while you piled up the spoilings for the day so it could be better managed in the morning.
“I thought you guys were staying overnight,” Your hip leaned against the door frame that would lead you out to the yard. Stopping only because you'd heard the tired sigh.
“Kids wanted to come home.” He didn't say why. Didn't have to. The way they'd flocked you had said it all. “What'd you do today?”
“I...I just...I went out.” His head tilted as if expecting more. Curious to see what happened when you were given a life. The truth of it? You'd simply gone to the Barton Creek Greenbelt and hunted down your favorite waterfall. But, that wouldn't have been what he'd wanted to hear. “There's, uh, some gas-x in that cupboard over there if you need it.”
Jensen's cheeks flushed as he realized his kids had spared nothing, “Uh...yeah...they were...they were exaggerating.” At the way your lips pulled tight to hold back the smile, he dipped his head. Rubbing the back of his neck. “Do you want a drink? I suddenly need one.”
“No,” The answer came quick enough that his eyes held obvious confusion. “No...no, thank you.” You cleared your throat, carrying the dirty clothes you'd worn earlier to your chest. “I'm just...I'm gonna go. Get some rest, Mr. Ackles. You look tired.” And with that, you were out the back door. Running to safety.
“Mr...Ackles?” Jensen watched as you disappeared into the darkness. Frowning as he lost sight of you near the house. “What the hell?”
Part Five
ODAAT: @winchester-ofthe-lord​​​ @smoothdogsgirl​​ @ima-be-a-mongoose​​ @briagallen​​ @agusdoti​ @my-proof-is-you​
Dean/Jensen: @akshi8278​​​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​​​
Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @supernaturalginger​ @lilulo-12​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @michaelneedssomemilk​ @lemondropirwin​​ @fanfictionismydeath​​
213 notes · View notes
violetsmoak · 4 years
Text
Pieces of April [3/?]
AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099044/chapters/50202530
Summary: On the anniversary of his death, Jason’s second life takes an abrupt new turn and he’s faced with a challenge that neither Batman nor the All-Caste prepared him for.
Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)
Warning(s): Past Jason/Isabel, kidfic, minor canon character death (pretty sure you can guess who, not either of our boys!), I’ll add more warnings/tags as I think of them.
Canon-Compliance: Takes place in between the two RHATO series, so after Roy and Kori and before Artemis and Bizarro.
First Chapter
________________________________________________________________
A nurse leads them to an empty waiting room with chairs and a table, seemingly unfazed by the situation that has reduced Jason to as mindless as shell as he was before taking a dip in the Lazarus Pit.
“Normally we do visits with the mother and family in the hospital room, but in this case…” she trails off, sympathetic. “I’m very sorry.”
“Yeah,” Jason thinks he says, looking around the spartan décor.
“I’ll be back with your daughter,” she tells him, and leaves.
Jason opens his mouth to protest that word, but it dies on his lips. Somehow it seems dickish to proclaim it’s not his daughter. He’s not sure he could form the sentence right now, anyway. It means acknowledging the existence of a tiny human who may or may not be his—
“It’s transference.”
Jason blinks, looking over at Drake.
“The nurse,” the younger man says. “Calling the baby your daughter. She’s worried and hoping you’ll form an emotional attachment whether the child’s yours or not. You have no obligation to do that just now.”
Jason grits his teeth. “And you’re telling me this why?”
“Because I know what self-flagellation looks like. You can freak out, you know. I won’t tell anyone.”
“And you can be less of a weirdo! How the hell are you so…” Jason fumbles the word, and then furiously gestures up and down. “This.”
“It’s a tense situation and you’re panicked enough for the two of us.”
“I’m not panicked.”
“Jason, you’re completely tense right now, I can almost see how fast your pulse is going and you can barely think straight enough to give answers to simple questions,” Drake tells him. “Obviously you’re suffering from some sort of emotional shock.”
“Shock my ass,” Jason replies automatically. “I’ve been in literal warzones. I don’t do shock.”
“Have you ever learned you might possibly be a father in those warzones?” Jason’s stomach lurches at the word, blood draining from his face; Drake obviously sees it, because he nods as if satisfied. “There you go. Completely different situation. Look, just take a deep breath and—”
“I know how to calm down!” Jason growls. “Now stop managing me and—”
“Here we are!”
They both whirl around as the nurse from earlier reappears, this time wheeling a see-through plastic crib into the room. Inside is a vaguely wriggling lump in pink blankets and cap. There’s a label at the edge of the crib, with the words Baby Ardila neatly printed.
A rushing noise, starting like the hiss of static and turning into the dull road of a waterfall fills Jason’s head.
That’s a baby, right there. Possibly his baby. Isabel’s gone. Dead. Dead in childbirth. Which means if this is his kid, he’s responsible for Isabel’s death. And if that’s the case…what the hell is he supposed to do? He’s not supposed to have this—was never supposed to have anything like this—he’s going to ruin all of this, every second and minute he’s in this room around this kid, it’s like radiation, growing worse the longer exposed—
“Mr. Ardila?”
Jason blinks, looks up, notices the nurse is addressing him—has probably been doing so for a while, judging by the uncertainty in her eyes. She’s holding the baby, and he didn’t even notice her reach into the crib.
“He’s still processing,” Drake says, explaining and covering for him at the same time. Jason swallows, shaking off the lingering invasive thoughts. “She asked if you want to hold her.”
Not really.
He wonders if his thoughts show on his face, because the nurse hesitates, looking a bit uneasy about handing over the swaddled infant. Compared to the tiny bundle, Jason is a giant—over six feet, nothing but muscle and scars, clad in faded leather that may or may not have dried blood on it somewhere and no doubt smelling like a bar’s back alley.
His eyes shoot to Drake who, for the first time tonight—looks just as much at a loss as him. All confidence and strategizing is gone, and he’s looking at the pink-wrapped bundle with the same apprehension as a bomb.
He’s just as out of his element holding a baby as I am.
Maybe more so.
Jason at least has distant memories of doing so. As a kid in Crime Alley, neighbors were forced to rely on each other. If one of the women doing laundry or selling themselves on the corner told you to mind a baby, you minded the baby or you got a slap upside the head.
But that was a long, long time ago. Not as long as for Drake, who likely never had to do that, but long enough that Jason
“Maybe I shouldn’t...” he trails off. “Since she might not be…you know…”
“Yours?” the nurse says, and then turns red, as if she didn’t mean to say that. “It, uh…it wouldn’t hurt, you know. She…her mother didn’t get to hold her at all. So even if she’s not yours, you knew her mother. That’s still more of a connection than anyone else has to her.”
It sounds like spurious logic. Still—
“Okay,” he hears himself say, possibly damning himself with just the one word.
The nurse motions for him to take the chair beside the crib—it’s comically small beneath his frame and he expects the cheap plastic to give, but it never does. Instantly he wants to get back up—eyes flit to the door, the windows, ceiling panels, cataloging possible exits.
Then, the nurse settles the baby into his arms, gently coaching him how to hold her head properly and support the rest of her on his arms.
Jason swallows thickly, trying to become accustomed to the sensation of the slight weight—hell, he’s held guns that weighed more—and immediately has the irrational fear that he’s going to drop or break her.
The baby is red and wrinkled, and hardly even looks like a baby. He’s seen them that small before, sure—as Robin and as Red Hood, he’s been thrown into situations where he had to get pregnant civilians or young mothers to safety. Hell, he’s had to help pregnant women with an emergency delivery.
(Not sure which was more nerve-wracking, when he was a gawky teenaged boy that still fumbled shaving, or the heavy-handed vigilante more suited to holding an AK-47 in his hands than an infant body.)
She’s also very, very small.
“Are they supposed to be that small?” Drake asks, voicing Jason’s question as he peeks over his shoulder. His eyes are wide and a little awed, and Jason can’t recall ever seeing that particular expression on the kid’s face.
“Five pound, fourteen ounces—she’s just within the right weight percentile for her gestational age,” the nurse replies.
She says something else after that, but Jason mostly tunes her out. He probably couldn’t even process it even if he was firing on all cylinders.
He finds his eyes roving over the tiny face, trying to figure out if she looks like him or not. He wants to cite the fact he can’t recognize any of himself in her features as proof she can’t be his, but the fact is…she barely has any identifying features.
Nudging the tiny pink cap she’s wearing upward, he finds feathery strands of indistinct color—could be strawberry blond, like Isabel. Could be red, like his natural color when he isn’t dying it.
Fifty-fifty chance, really.
Her eyes are scrunched shut in sleep, tiny eyebrows—does she even have eyebrows? —drawn together and pink mouth puckered in a frown. Overall, she looks completely uncomfortable.
He waits to feel any kind of affection or connection to the infant, some sort of primal magnetism that he should feel if this is his kid, but there’s nothing.
Only the persistent instinct to make a run for it.
“I’ll give you some time,” she says with a small smile. “There may be a social worker by in the next hour or so. Since we won’t know anything until the tests come back, nothing will be decided tonight, but it wouldn’t hurt to familiarize yourself with whoever is handling the case, even if it is just for the short-term.”
“Thank you,” Drake says politely.
“And if you need anything, the call button to the nurse’s station is right there.”
And she departs.
Jason and Drake stare at each other without speaking for a while. The noise is broken only when the pink bundle in Jason’s arms begins to wriggle and his back goes rigid.
He looks back down at the tiny human in his hands and abruptly realizes he has never been more terrified in his life.
Even in that warehouse, being savagely beaten—he knew what was going to happen. Either he was going to be saved by Batman at the last minute, or he would die. Either way, the pain would end.
It occurs to him that the infant he’s holding has the potential to cause a whole other kind of pain.
“How do I put her down?” he asks through a dry mouth. “She didn’t…she didn’t show how to put her down—”
His hands feel too clumsy, his arms too big and—god, he could crush her.
“Why are you asking me?” Tim asks, an octave higher than normal.
“Because you—”
He cuts off since he has no idea how he was going to answer that.
“Okay,” Drake says after a deep breath. “Okay, let’s try…” And he approaches slowly, eyeing Jason like he’s approaching a wild dog. Jason normally wouldn’t blame him, considering their not-so-great past together, but at the moment, his replacement’s the only one in his corner.  
Somehow, thin but strong fingers slide between the space of leather jacket and blanket, maneuvering so that the baby’s head is supported, and between the two of them they get the infant back in the crib.
She only scrunches up her face and mewls in distaste.
Which is good.
Not crying is good.
He thinks.
Unless it’s a sign that something’s wrong.
Aren’t healthy babies supposed to cry? She doesn’t look like there’s anything wrong with her, but how would he know the difference?
I'm not qualified for this.
For a long time, he and Drake stand on either side of the crib, tense and neither really knowing how to break the oppressive silence. Staring down at the little pink creature like it might suddenly rear up and attack.
It would be funny if it all weren’t so terrifying.
Jason hasn’t smoked in almost five years, but just then all he wants it a cigarette. Or a pack.
More time must pass than he expected, because there’s a staccato beeping from Drake’s wrist, and they both look up. Jason watches the other man covertly pull up a holographic screen above his wrist, frowning at the numbers and data blinking at him.
His eyes widen. They’re very blue, Jason notices dimly, in the abstract and tired way you notice strange details in the moments before your life irrevocably changes.
When their gazes connect, Tim Drake’s face says it all.
Jason’s lungs constrict.
“Holy shit,” he croaks, because what the hell else is he going to say?
“Holy shit,” Drake echoes. “This is…not the result I was expecting.”
Jason barks out a bitter laugh and begins to pace, running his fingers through his hair. His throat feels like it’s closing over because up until that moment, he really didn’t think it was real.
Isabel dead, he could believe. Her leaving behind a baby, also believable.
But that the baby is his?
That Jason Todd—the clan fuck-up who never entertained the idea of ever being a father except for maybe a lifetime ago when he also dreamed impossible things like growing up to become Batman—has a kid?
“No!” he rasps, whirling around to face Drake. “No, this is not fair! I’m careful—I’ve always been careful! This is the sort of thing that happens to Bruce. Or maybe Dick, because who knows where he’s been—hell, even Alfred had a kid he didn’t know about.”
“This sort of thing happens more than you think,” Drake tries. “Statistically speaking—"
“It doesn’t happen to me!” Jason hisses back.
Especially since he’s always made it a point to only sleep with people he knew were species incompatible, didn’t have the body parts necessary to get pregnant or on birth control. The few times he’d been with Isabel, she’s even laughed at him because of how intent he was to stop and put on a condom.
“This is…” Jason begins, fighting down the mounting urge to throw up. “It’s too much, I need to—”
“Take a walk,” Drake tells him, a commanding note in his voice that is eerily reminiscent of Bruce. “An hour or two somewhere else to clear your head. Or longer, if you need to. I can keep an eye on things here—especially since she’s here for a few days anyway while we wait for the blood tests.”
The unnecessary blood tests, the ones that will tell them the same thing the Bat tech has already figured out.
“And arrangements will need to be made for Isabel,” he continues, then pauses. “If you want me to.”
Jason should say no.
He should tell Drake to back off, to let Jason figure this out the way he always figures things out—on his own. That he doesn’t trust him or anyone enough to deal with this situation properly.
But the lure of escape is too strong just then, and the hospital room feels like it’s closing in on him like a coffin.
He throws one last panicked look at the baby in the crib and then flees the maternity ward.
Jason is not entirely sure he’s going to come back.
________________________________________________________________
But we all know he's going to come back...
So, I'm really hoping I've portrayed Jason's reactions in a believable way. I just figure finding out he's had a kid would hit him a lot harder and he'd be way more surprised about it than Bruce was when he found out about Damian. I figure he would need time to process. And as for Tim, I always see him as the one who steps in and tries to fix everything even when it's beyond his wheelhouse. He's probably panicking as much as Jason right now...
Your feedback matters! I want to know what you think of my story, so feel free to leave kudos, a comment or as many of these emojis as you want and let me know how you feel!
❤️️ = I love this story! 😳 = this was hot! 💐 = thank you for sharing this 🍵 = tea spilled 🍬 = so sweet and fluffy! 🚔 = you’re under arrest! the writing’s too good! 😲 = I NEED THE NEXT CHAPTER 😢 = you got me right in the feels
Next Chapter
6 notes · View notes
readingwebcomics · 5 years
Text
Analyzing Questionable Content: Pages 51-100
Tumblr media
No Faye, it only looks that way because he’s playing Final Fantasy X-2. Good God, I just realized that Final Fantasy X-2 is someone’s first experience with Final Fantasy. That’s a depressing thought. Although someone starting out the series with Final Fantasy XIII is probably way worse, now that I think about it. At least X-2 had fun.
…huh? Oh right, the comic. You sure you’d rather not listen to me write an essay on Final Fantasy, instead? I have this great point about how Final Fantasy IX has the most emotionally impactful narrative but as a game it only really clicks with long-time players of… no? Okay fine, let’s get back into QC.
The very next comic has Marten getting a tax return check for $1,100, and being the wise adult that he is, decides to spend that money on a new guitar. Tagging along, Faye brings up something that gives us new insight on her character:
Tumblr media
And clearly didn’t bore her, considering how much of that information she retained. Here we have yet another example of a shared interest between these two, Marten clearly being into Guitars if he’s invested enough to blow a fat wad of money on it and Faye carrying around quite a bit of information on the instrument herself. I’ve made the point in the last post, but to reiterate – at this point in the comic, it’s clear these two are clicking as far as interests go. They can keep up with each other, can and have provided support for one another, and challenge one another… okay granted that last one isn’t entirely true, it’s clear Faye challenges Marten more than vice-versa, but still. There is a clear, acting relationship dynamic between these two, whether platonic or romantic. The reason why early QC works as well as it does is because these two have clear characters to them and their relationship FEELS real – they feel like people you’d know who’d really be friends – or maybe more than friends. This is Jeph’s character writing at… well I hesitate to call it at its best because to imply he peaked as early as the 53rd comic would be an insult to him as a writer, and I’m not looking to do that here.
I’m looking to do that a little bit later on in this part when we discuss Faye’s “character quirk.”
Before that however, we’re going to get a little bit on insight on Marten:
Tumblr media
The story is elaborated on in a future comic, but here we get Marten’s backstory – traveling across the country for a girl, the relationship falling apart and leaving him stuck in this part of the country. This will go on to explain several of his character choices, including Pintsize (although that’s something we’re not going to approach until MUCH later on). It also further elaborates on Marten’s character as a whole: He doesn’t make many active actions as a whole, but when he does, it tends to shift the entire dynamic of how he lives. He decided he wanted to follow this woman across the country, and that action ended up completely upending his life. Could this be part of the reason why Marten is so passive? Does he skew towards this lifestyle because he’s been “trained” to take any kind of affirmative action as an intense, life-changing event?
While I’m not certain myself, and I have a damn good feeling Jeph wasn’t thinking that far ahead when writing Marten’s character, it’s an angle I’m willing to continue exploring as we further our journey down this comic’s history.
Tumblr media
This comic was written in 2003. I’m half-tempted to believe Meme culture can be tracked by indie bands now. Wonder if there was any zeitgeist with neo-nazi indie bands ten or fifteen years ago then, if that theory holds true?
…I just made myself really, really sad.
Later on, Pintsize proceeds to eat a cake when he really shouldn’t – again – and we are gifted with… this lovely image.
Tumblr media
Okay. I understand Pintsize is an AI, so it makes total sense for him to be able to be uploaded to a PC like this (ignoring for the moment modern commercial hardware can’t possibly support the resources necessary to maintain human-level sapience and ESPECIALLY not in 2003), but this is one of the freakiest fucking things I’ve seen from this comic. Mostly because at the time of writing we’re on comic 4000 and AI as a whole take an entirely different turn in the world of QC around that time, so… this is just kinda surreal to look at.
…We’ll get to AI in regards to QC’s universe later on when it becomes more relevant. Needless to say, it becomes one of the core “themes” of the comic as a whole.
The narrative reason for this turn of events is simple:
Tumblr media
Pintsize is now in a new visually appealing model, capable of moving his joints around so he can do more than just stand around and talk!
Tumblr media
…also one that has a horrifying government-level laser built into it! Believe it or not, this DOES become a relevant plot-point later and it’s not just for the sake of a gag. This is a great example of Jeph taking a tiny detail he may have originally written in as a joke and building off it to create conflict… although I’ll be getting more into that later on when it actually DOES become relevant.
Pintsize agrees to turn the laser off, and a few comics later Marten and Steve go to the bar to discuss their lives – specifically Marten’s love life.
Tumblr media
Further showcasing of Marten’s passive nature and his straight-up lack of confidence.
Tumblr media
Say goodbye to Sara everyone – for real this time, I’m fairly certain this is the very last time we ever see her. I could be mistaken, but I highly doubt it. Plus, while we don’t see it in detail we get enough information to gleam Steve as Marten’s exact opposite – charming without being overwhelming, confident without being cocky. Steve is just straight-up a cool dude, and it’s easy to see how he can easily get into relationships while Marten stays there floating along, too scared and/or passive to make the move that comes to Steve naturally.
Wait. Shit, I may have the hots for Steve. Abort, aboRT, ABOR-
Tumblr media
I’m showing this in part to showcase the next point of conflict and also to draw attention to the new style Jeph is trying. He’ll do this throughout the run of QC, trying out brand-new styles to see what fits and what doesn’t. I’ll be including this in my comparison pictures at the very end of this post to give a clearer image of what changes and how he improves… although you can see even in this comic he’s struggling against old habits as Marten’s face in the final panel looks drastically different than in the rest, looking more akin to how he looked in older comics. That’s okay! Habits die hard, it’s worth applauding the fact that Jeph is trying. God knows I can’t draw to save my fucking life, so I’ll always support artists trying new things.
Tumblr media
I’m mostly including this panel for two reasons: The fact that Faye’s stuck in the closet right now – if you don’t get why that’s funny, you will in about 3700 comics from now – and the way she’s talking. Do you notice something different about the “feel” of Faye’s dialogue? Keep an eye on it, I’ll try to include more panels of her talking from this point onward.
Anyway, Marten dismantles the previously established conflict by revealing he managed to get Faye’s prescription for her and got her a new pair of glasses.
Tumblr media
Mark this as the second time Faye has actually displayed real physical aggression against Marten.
Tumblr media
Again, depending on how much you know about AI in QC’s world from future comics this could either be a lot funnier or a hell of a lot less funny. Although… the subject of AI mortality would make for an EXTREMELY interesting plot point in more recent comics. Remind me to touch on that when we get further along.
Tumblr media
Again: Pay attention to Faye’s dialogue in this comic, especially in that last panel. You’re noticing it, aren’t you? The fact that she sounds a little… different? Give me a little more time, I promise I’ll touch on it a little later.
Tumblr media
Hey, guess what? It’s later!
Faye does not punch Marten whenever she says something nice about him. In fact, she has ever only assaulted Marten twice – both times for completely arbitrary reasons not related to her saying anything to or about Marten. Nor has Faye ever spoken completely without contractions, as you see she’s doing now. Later comics will go on to point out how odd it is that Faye only speaks with contractions when she’s drunk and dips into her southern accent… when we’ve seen in previous comics that she is capable of speaking with contractions and talking like a normal human being. This change has shifted the entire “feel” of every line of Faye’s dialogue, as she no longer “sounds” like the Faye we started the comic with.
These are both examples of a writing mistake that a lot of long-form regular updating writers make, be it fanfiction or daily comics – retcons. If you’re reading this, you most likely know what a retcon is. For the few of you that don’t, a retcon – short for retroactive continuity – is the practice of in later works of an ongoing series introducing a fact that changes what was previously established in previous works. This is most commonly seen in Superhero comics from Marvel and DC, but the kind of retcon I’m talking about is more common on smaller scale works, like fanfiction or unedited novels or ongoing RPs.
See, when the writer realizes they wanted to change up something, introduce a plot element that would require them to go back and change something previously to make it make sense and find that for whatever reason they can’t, they may go ahead and introduce the plot element anyway while assuring the reader that no, of course this element was always included. That’s what’s happening here – Jeph had an idea for a plot element he wants to include, realized he can’t exactly go back to older comics and change them considering it’s a regularly updated webcomic, and so decided to retcon these facts by introducing them like they’ve always been a part of things and assert their truth while continuing on.
Not that I can necessarily blame the man – in a situation like this, realizing there’s an important plot element that you want to work with but can’t due to you leaving it no room in what you’ve previously published, there’s not much else you can do besides either retconning things or accepting you can’t introduce that plot element and just move on. However, there are other ways you can work with this that abide by previously established continuity and lets you introduce a plot element you want to introduce. For example, Faye punching Marten: You could introduce it as something she feels more comfortable doing the longer she’s around him. Have more frequent comics of her following saying something nice up with a punch, let us see her actually assault him more, and draw a correlation between her getting more comfortable around him and her getting more physically aggressive – something Jeph does touch on later, so it is entirely possible to introduce this new dynamic without asserting things have happened that we clearly see haven’t happened.
…as for Faye not speaking in contractions however, that’s just stupid. It’s a gimmick for her character, plain and simple, without adding anything to her as a character. If you want something big to showcase she’s keeping herself restrained, just continue as you were, having her speak in a southern accent when she’s drunk. That works as a fun gag to attach to her character without seeming like a dumb gimmick. And I’m sorry to say… this whole “Faye doesn’t speak in contractions” thing? It’s a dumb gimmick.
Okay, now that I’ve gotten that all off my chest, let’s introduce ourselves to the new main character of QC…
Tumblr media
This is Dora, the owner of the Coffee Shop that Faye works at. She’s a cool cat and (seemingly) supremely chill. She’s introduced as another secondary character like Steve, but will swiftly become a mainstay character and join what will become a growing ensemble cast.
Also, potential conflict is seeded when it’s revealed she’s totally crushing on Marten.
Tumblr media
And if you doubt Faye’s assessment, let’s hear it from the woman in question herself.
Tumblr media
Also say hello to Dora’s cat. The cat has a name, I just can’t remember it for the life of me considering the little fella joins Sara on that island eventually. But yeah, Dora DEFINITELY has the hots for Marten, sewing another potential seed for conflict later on – Marten and Faye are certainly in the “will they or won’t they?” phase, and here sits Faye’s own boss with a clear, vested interest in Marten. Will she make a move and push Faye to take action? Time will tell.
Tumblr media
Jeph enjoys trolling his audience, and Marten is suffering because of it.
Tumblr media
Dora goes on to establish herself in the reader’s minds by having a clear, distinct personality that bounces off Faye’s beautifully. They banter so comfortably with one another it makes it so much fun to read, which goes on to make Dora a more appealing character to the reader. The more she talks, the more you want to see her because she’s such a genuinely charismatic individual… which can further serve to establish her as a very real conflict in the potential Marten and Faye relationship. After all, what’s a greater spanner in the works of this “will they or won’t they?” relationship than a character who will gladly say “Yeah, I will” that the audience likes enough that they are completely on-board with seeing go through?
The most dangerous thing to a romcom relationship is a third wheel that a good portion of the audience prefers over the teased relationship, and that creates good drama.
(Also Sara’s name is spelled wrong but eh it’s not like she’s around to complain anyway)
Tumblr media
…that said, Dora goes on to assure Faye that she has no intention of swiping Marten off his feet away from her when it’s clear Faye’s interested in him. Then again… the more Faye insists she’s not interested in him, the more likely it may be that Dora believes her.
Tumblr media
True story, I found this concept so funny that in a campaign I ran a few years ago, I actually had one of the players – who was supposed to be stuck as a worker in a dreary 9-to-5 job that he’d desperately want to escape to go onto adventure – be labeled as the Office Bitch. My only regret is that I didn’t print out a real business card for his player. That either would have gotten a laugh from the table or gotten me punched.
Tumblr media
This here is Scott, Marten’s boss. He’s a cool dude, but for reasons that will become evident later on we don’t see very much of him. At first, I thought he was going to end up being the future husband of Marten’s father – and if you haven’t read through QC yourself that sentence will probably completely catch you flat-footed – but looking it up later I found that Marten marries a man named Maurice, not Scott. I only thought they were the same person because they’re both blonde and the art style changes so much later on anyone could look like anyone else.
Actually, fun fact: I started reading QC when 2512 was the most recent comic, so before she was introduced I thought Faye and Marigold were the same person because of how drastically the art style changed and I only recognized “curvy white girl with glasses and brown hair”.
Anyway, Scott’s pretty chill and… yeah. Yeah, that’s pretty much it. He’s a chill dude to work for, and that’s probably the only reason Marten hasn’t outright quit his job yet. The worst job in the world can be made tolerable with a good boss, and the best job in the world can be made unbearable with an awful boss.
Tumblr media
Further evidence of the lack of contractions hurting the way Faye’s voice comes across than anything else. Seriously, is it just me or does this not sound like Faye? Like, at ALL? I’m open to being told I’m wrong, just… seriously.
Tumblr media
Aaaand here we have Steve officially having broken up with Sara. Also, it’s a small thing but like I’ve said, I’ll give Jeph credit where it’s due – that visible wince on Marten’s face is the most expressive any of his characters have been thus far. Good work man, I’m happy to see you improving with your art!
After drinking together, Marten and Faye decide to go to an all-night diner for some drunken late-night pancakes when we get this bit of information from Faye:
Tumblr media
That is Faye, if you can figure out which of the two Martens your fist will connect with. But yeah, the fact that Faye speaks in a southern drawl while intoxicated went from a joke to actual character – she’s legitimately from Georgia and that’s her natural way of speaking. Which may raise the question to the reader, why does she repress that voice so much? Don’t worry – they touch on it in later comics. For now though, another round of applause to Jeph for slowly and organically creating new information about his characters.
Tumblr media
Faye is clearly not telling the whole story – the lack of eye contact being a key indicator of just that. Still, we’re getting a little bit more information on her, and the fact that she kept her wording vague leaves a lot to still explore in her future. Needless to say… it was a LOT more than just her mother being over-protective that led her to moving up north.
Tumblr media
Marten’s just kind of accepted his lot in life by this point. Although when I was first reading through these I honestly thought this was going to be the headbutt-into-crotch moment.
Once again, if you haven’t read through QC yourself that sentence made zero sense to you. I’m kind of giggling at the thought of someone reading that and doing a double-take, actually.
Finally, we have the last comic of this batch, setting up a bit of conflict for our next batch…
Tumblr media
Wuh-oh! Marten walked in on Faye changing! One really nice detail is that you can see the scar on Faye’s chest right there in the first panel, which means Jeph had a LOT of Faye’s backstory already planned out while he was drawing this stuff. Which just leaves me to wonder… how far back did he have this planned? When Faye first showed up in the third comic? When he had her start speaking in a southern accent while drunk? When he decided to have her stop speaking in contractions? I’d love to ask him, but I know for a fact he wouldn’t give me the time of day. Oh well, either way: He’s got shit planned out, shit that we won’t see until Comic 500 or so, and that’s always good for a long-form comic like this.
Like last time, let’s do some quick comparisons between the first comic of the batch, the comic where Jeph made a clear and active effort to change the art style, and the last comic of the batch:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It looks like Jeph found a happy medium between the style he was originally going for and the newer style he tried to incorporate, keeping the relative size and position of the characters’ facial features while rounding out everyone’s faces, making things much less angular than previously. The bodies are also beginning to get some real texture to them, looking closer to real human bodies than stick figures with a shirt.
Overall, what did I think about this batch of comics? Well aside from my complaints about Faye’s lack of using contractions and the sloppy way Jeph tried to incorporate that into the narrative, I thought it was better than the first batch! Marten and Faye are getting into a comfortable rhythm with each other, and we’re falling in-line with that rhythm ourselves. We just met a new character who’s going to be a mainstay of the series and in the few comics she’s shown up in, she’s made her presence stick with the reader. Even if I didn’t know how important Dora would become, I’d be saying I’m looking forward to seeing more of her.
You know what time it is now? That’s riiiiiight! Data compilation time!
Between comics 51-100, the following characters’ proportional “screen time” as it were are as follows:
Marten: 46/50 – 92%
Faye: 45/50 – 90%
Pintsize: 12/50 – 24%
Dora: 8/50 – 16%
Steve: 6/50 – 12%
Sara: 2/50 – 4%
Scott: 2/50 – 4%
Dora’s Cat: 1/50 – 2%
And the grand total of each character’s screentime, not including non-canon or guest comics, from most to least time shown:
Marten: 91/100 – 91%
Faye: 83/100 – 83%
Pintsize: 27/100 – 27%
Steve: 14/100 – 14%
Dora: 8/100 – 8%
Sara: 7/100 – 7%
Jim: 2/100 – 2%
Scott: 2/100 – 2%
Raven: 1/100 – 1%
Dora’s Cat: 1/100 – 1%
Yes, I’m counting Dora’s cat among the statistics. I’ll change the name when I learn what the critter’s name actually is. Also, I was reminded that when the Secret Bakery becomes a thing later on in the comic there will be another character named Jim, with this particular construction worker being called Jimbo instead. I’ll change the name properly when he’s called “Jimbo” proper in the comic, don’t worry. I’ll be doing my best to keep this list from getting confusing… it’s in as much my best interest as yours seeing as I want to keep track of everyone properly.
Tune in next week when we see the exciting conclusion of this spicy “Marten happening to walk in on Faye undressing” drama! And Dora flashing someone. See you then.
2 notes · View notes
Hi-Yo Silver!
I’ve had this Idea in mind for a fic for a while, now, and I thought It’d be a decently good place to start for this blog, so boom, here’s a reader-insert fic starring Big Bill and his trusty bike. This is sort of a gift for a friend, roughly based off of an idea from an IT story we started a while back, and it plays a little bit with the turtle god connection all the kids have, that the reader’s involved with, too. PAIRING: Bill Denbrough/Reader WARNINGS: Blood and Cuts, A little bit of cursing, that’s about it. SUMMARY: Bill Denbrough runs you over with his bike and insists that It’s now his duty to make sure you’re okay. You bond over bandages and comic books. __________________________ The first time you really meet Stuttering Bill Denbrough, he runs you over with his bike.
When you take away all the pain it caused the both of you, the situation was really quite comical. It had been on a Saturday morning, and the front tire of what you now know is named ‘Silver’ crashed straight into your thigh halfway through your journey across the crosswalk in front of Derry Library. You had briefly heard a boy scream something along the lines of ‘Watch out!’ and a loud clink and scrape of a roller chain before the impact, and at the time you hadn’t known where to look after opening your eyes; the books in your hand flying out towards the side of the road in a fit of flapping papers and endangered spines and cover arts, or the poor boy above you, his bike tilted completely forward onto his front wheel and his shins catching just on the handlebars before he could fly any farther. His eyes were comically wide before the both of you made unpleasant contact with the road, and you think you would have laughed if it weren’t for the shock you had been in, at the time.
It happened really quite fast, after all.
You’re sure the instant he started talking after both of you mutually shared a few groans and grunts of pain was the instant you recognized him. It was hard not to; you two had an art class together, and because he was a fifteen year old freshman and you were a seventeen year old senior, it was the only class you two shared. He only talked when he had to, but the few times he spoke really did ingrain itself in your memory for one honest reason; his stutter. It was hard to miss, because sometimes when the teacher forced him to talk It’d get so bad that his knuckles would turn white on his desk and his face would go red until Ms. Stevens let him off the hook when the class would start murmuring and your indifference towards most of the Derry High students would turn sour. When Bill Denbrough was the topic of a conversation, it would almost always be about his stutter. You’ve heard immature students mock him in the halls all the time, both behind his back or right when he’s walking by, and although you never joined in on the teasing because you wouldn’t want to label yourself an asshole, you know you still fall victim to the fact that It’s almost always ‘Stuttering Bill.’ You’ve just never been able to talk to him enough to recognize him as much else, though you know he’s very pleasant to talk to when you two are partnered up for something, and his art skills are amazing.
“I-I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry, are- are you o-okay? I-I should’ve b-been watching where I-I-I was g-going,” He’s talking faster than he normally does when he pushes himself back onto his feet and moves his bike off of the lower half of your body, and you notice that his stutter gets a little worse when he realizes who you are. When the situation kicks in as he holds his hand out to help you up, you suddenly don’t know whether or not to be angry at him for his blatantly reckless driving, or amused. When you’re pulled up back onto your feet, you don’t really get to decide, yourself, because his clammy grip on your hand almost slips halfway through getting you back on your feet and when you stumble a bit you start to giggle. There’s a look of confusion in his cerulean blue gaze at this fact (you note he’s about an inch smaller than you, if that, at his age,) before he looks like he wants to laugh, too, and he hides a small embarrassed smile that tugs up on his lips by ducking down to start collecting the books that are sprawled out across the road. You try to tell him that It’s okay, you’re fine and you could do it yourself, but when he further insists that it was entirely his fault (which, to be fair, it was,) and that he wants to help, you let him collect the rest of your things with a bit of a smile.
While you watch him grab the last (bent, you’re devastated to see, you hate ruining books,) book off the road, you can’t help but notice the tint of red that dances across his cheeks and runs up the tips of his ears. You pass it off for simple embarrassment, because at the time it very much was at least half that, and another feeling you wouldn’t realize until much later.
You continue to try and reassure him that the crash hadn’t hurt you too much and that you’d be fine on your walk home after he hands you your books and insists he take you to the Center Street Drugstore to get you patched up, for it was just a right turn away, but you stop trying to walk the pain off on your own when you realize how badly all the scrapes and bruises on your body sting and ache after the adrenaline starts to wear off. There’s blood already staining the right knee of your blue jeans, seeping through the fabric around the tear the fall made, and you notice a red smear on one of the covers of the books you’re holding, as well, when you shift your hold to steady the stack.
You two end up walking there, side-by-side, instead of hitching a ride on Bill’s bike, because you didn’t trust it enough to get you to the drugstore safely after having been pummeled by it just a few minutes ago, and the crash had injured the Denbrough’s leg enough to where he was limping and had to use the big bulky piece of metal as something to lean on. You don’t think It would’ve worked, anyway, even if his leg was alright, because you have about six books in your hands and he takes four when he sees the scrapes on your palms halfway to the Center Store. You mostly let him because you know this isn’t only helping you, but It’s also helping him ease some of his guilt over running you over full-speed on a bike he barely fit on.
You make small talk on the way there, and find out that he was headed to meet up with a friend at his house; a boy by the name of Richie Tozier, who you share a Theatre class with. You tell Bill of this fact, and when you do he gets an amused but knowing grin on his face before you two end up talking and laughing about how Richie loves theater class despite him constantly cracking jokes about it to his friends to stay as cool as Richie Tozier could, and how Richie’s surprisingly good at what he does during games and practices and Bill seems happy to hear that you genuinely seem to enjoy the trashmouth’s company in the class; that he makes it more fun to be in. You end up moving on to art talk, and he makes suggestions of where to get supplies in Derry because you’re new and hadn’t found a place yet and you compliment what you’ve seen of his skills in class and he compliments you right back. You hadn’t realized how easy and enjoyable it was to talk to the boy until you two arrived at the Corner store faster than you think you would’ve liked, and all the laughter and the charisma between the two of you is instantly stubbed out when all the aid supplies seen through the window on the shelves reminds Bill of the situation the two of you are in, and he sits you down a bit sheepishly on the green bench outside and tells you he’ll be right back and It’ll be quick.
He sets his bike against the wall beside you and in about six minutes or so, he comes back out with disinfectant and bandages and bandaids and one or two other things he thought he might need and you find yourself chuckling a bit at the way he stumbles with the objects in his hands before he drops them all on the seat beside you with the same red color on his cheeks as before. “I’m glad I m-made sure to bring m-money, today.”
“Oh god, how much did you spend? I need to repay you, this is ridiculous.” You run a hand through your [hair color] locks after setting your books down when he sheepishly motions for you to, and he shakes his head with a smile that’s contagious enough to make you mirror him, and you’ve officially decided that he’s a very sweet boy before he even opens his mouth, again.
“N-no, don’t, I w-wanted to. I don’t think I-I would’ve been able to s-stop being guilty, otherwise. I’m s-sort of reckless when I’m- I’m riding Silver.” He mumbles out a passive ‘sorry’ when he dabs a disinfectant wipe on your scratched up palm and the sting makes you wince, and the look of concentration in his eyes as he works makes you smile a bit in amusement. You can’t tell if he’s terribly inexperienced with this or if he knows what he’s doing.
“Silver?” “My- my bike. I n-named it Silver.” His cheeks flush up in red again at the fact, and it seems to only make him focus more on your hand as he starts wrapping bandages around the fleshy tears and cuts.
“...Is that a Lone Ranger reference?” You might not be a huge fan, but you’ve dipped into your fair share of comic books and you’ve definitely stumbled across quite a few of the volumes in the Lone Ranger series. They’re relatively old comics, popular in the fifties, and you chuckle a bit when Bill’s face lights up at the sheer fact that you recognized the connection.
“Y-you’ve read those c-comics?” “Well, I read comics. I’ve only read one or two but It’s enough to know where ‘Silver’ came from.” You brush a few strands of hair behind your ear and swell with a tiny bit of pride at your knowledge; It’s not really something to be proud of as a Derry Senior high school student but the look of astonishment you get from the boy affects you enough to feel happy about your hobby for a little bit. “It’s a good series, you’ve got good taste, Denbrough.”
“...I-I can lend you some of the c-comics, s-sometime, if you- you’d like. I-I-I know Richie has s-some, too.” He proposes the offer in a bit of a way that sounds like he’s unsure, as if he expects you to laugh at him, his head ducked down to focus on where he was finishing up with your other hand, and you grin at the fact; senior girls must be intimidating to him.
“Yeah, sure. I’d like that.” He glances up at you then with a genuine smile, and you wholeheartedly grin back at him. You don’t exactly know how long you’d ended up staring at him-- his eyes were a really pretty shade of blue, you’ve noticed-- but he wasn’t shifting away like it was making him uncomfortable and something in your chest feels warm. It wasn’t anything like what you normally felt when you found a cute guy in the hallway, or made a friend, or exchanged something heartfelt with someone you’re close too-- It was more; deeper, and stronger, something that both made you incredibly happy and a bit overwhelmed. You’d felt this way before, numbly, with Richie-- a connection that made him stand out from the rest of your classmates, but this time it makes your face heat up and your heart jumps in your chest when somebody glances at the two of you when they walk by to head into the Center Store as if you’d almost been caught doing something embarrassing.
You gazes tear away, then, quickly-- he abruptly focuses back on bandaging up the rest of your wounds and your eyes shift beside you to read the title of one of your books as if this was the first time you were discovering it. A comfortable silence settles between the two of you until he’s done patching you up and tries to dismiss his own wounds but you force him into the bench seat to swap places with a shared laugh at the struggle, and he winces when you try to move his leg.
You tell him that he’s probably going to have to get that checked by a professional sometime, and he grimaces at the thought of the doctor’s office and It’s so terribly relatable that it forces out a bit of a laugh from your throat that gets him to loosen up. By the time all the bandages have been used up and all the wounds have been covered, the two of you have talked about multiple subjects and are already starting to crack a few jokes with each other about the bike incident and you wholeheartedly regret not trying to get to know him, sooner. He’s genuinely fun to hang out with; It’s odd how comfortable you are around him after only having been run over by ‘Silver’ about an hour or so earlier.
Eventually, Bill makes it to his bike and drags it out onto the side of the road, and you collect all your books and stand a couple feet away on the sidewalk in front of the drugstore with a smile and he shifts on his feet a bit before turning to look at your once more with a hesitant expression. “A-are you sure you don’t w-want a ride back t-to y-your house? I p-promise I won’t cruh-crash, again.”
He sends you a teasing smile and you chuckle and shake your head, shifting your weight onto one leg as you make a shooing motion with the hand not pressing your book pile against your chest. “Shoo, Denbrough. I live just a few blocks away, I’ll be fine. I’ll see you at school on Monday, alright?”
You get that warm feeling in your chest when he glances at you, again, and your gazes don’t linger as long because he’s holding up a heavy bike and he realizes Richie’s waiting for him and after saying your goodbyes, you watch him pull his weight on the peddles down the road and you don’t think you’ve ever grinned wider than you had at that moment when you hear him call out a “HI-YO, SILVER, AWAYYY!” down the road the second he gains smooth speed before he turns the corner and he’s gone. You try to read a few pages of one of the books in your hands on the way home but you end up having too many thoughts on your mind, and when you arrive at your front porch you’ve reread the first three paragraphs about five times.
On Monday, Bill Denbrough sheepishly asks to sit with you during your art period and the two of you get called out by the teacher at least three times for ‘disrupting the class’. When you open your locker between periods, that day, to grab something you had forgotten, there are two volumes of the Lone Ranger comics placed inside, and a little doodle of you on a silver horse, with the wind in your hair and a grin on your face between the pages.
153 notes · View notes
Text
Cinematic Comic Characters Ranked! (Year 2005) Final Part
Another year, another ranking of our favorite comic book characters to grace the movie screen! This year we have the debut of several movies including: Aeon Flux, Batman Begins, Constantine, Fantastic Four, and Sin City; a spin-off movie centered on Elektra; and the final installment to an outer space trilogy, Star Wars: Episode Three-Revenge of the Sith! Here’s TOP 25!
*SPOILERS FOR ALL THE MOVIES HIGHLIGHTED ABOVE*
25. Dr. Jonathan Crane/Scarecrow (Batman Begins)
Tumblr media
"There's nothing to fear but fear itself!"
The second-class criminal that becomes a threat to Batman in a new way. Even though Bruce trained his body physically to withstand anything, he had no preparation to deal with Scarecrow's fear toxin, an attack on the mind. It's Scarecrows toxin that threatens to destory all of Gotham via terrified citizens but it's clear he's not the one pulling the strings. When the toxin starts infecting people, Scarecrow goes on a terror spree until Rachel shuts him down with a taser to the face.
24. Satan (Constantine)
"Looks like someone doesn't have your back anymore."
Don't quite understand why Satan's feet are dipped in black paint all the time but this man is P-E-T-T-Y. John brings him in to save the day (it took me a minute to wrap that around my head too) and that's kinda what he does. He stops his son from trying to overthrow him and take over Earth and he puts the smack down on Gabriel. He really wants John in hell though so before he goes to heaven he brings him back to life so he could sin again because the man is what? PETTY!
23. Hartigan (Sin City)
Tumblr media
"An old man dies. A young woman lives. A fair trade."
Hartigan is what I wanted Marv to be. Doing what needs to be done and stopping the bad guy because it's the right thing to do, not because he got great sex. He dedicated to stopping the pervs that keep going after Nancy and asks for nothing in return, he even turns down sex, which proves he isn't a perv either! I don't really think he had to go kill himself but he looked like he wasn't going to last long anyway so at least he went out nobly.
22. Abby Miller (Elektra)
"I don't respond well to authority and I don't take bullshit."
Abby is that annoying little sister you never had. As soon as she meets Elektra she wants to be just like her. She wants to learn how to kill, she wants to use sais, and she also wears her hair the same way. Turns out she's the "Treasure" which is a big deal for both sides. She knows how to fight with a fancy chain and her witty banter with Elektra is adorable so I definitely was happy when she was saved.
21. Rachel Dawes (Batman Begins)
"But it's not who you are underneath, it's what you do that defines you."
I like Rachel and she is a huge reason as to why Batman exists. She knows Gotham is falling apart and she decides to help save it in her own way: the courtroom. She becomes a great lawyer in the DA and won't back down when criminals try to scare her. She also lets Bruce know the huge difference between vengeance and justice and shows Bruce that fighting for the greater good is better than just fighting for yourself. I think this is also why she finds out his identity by the end of the film while most romantic interests like Mary Jane haven't found out their heroes identities until the sequels.
20. Reed Richards/Mr. Fantastic (Fantastic Four)
"I found a broken gasket from space."
Mr. Fantastic is the most boring out of the Fantastic Four, in my opinion. His flexible powers are really handy and make him near indestructible as long as you don't freeze him, but that's kinda it? He's mainly valued for his brains and it's the only thing he relied on when the team went up against Dr. Doom. Seriously, all he did was bark orders while Sue, Johnny, and Ben did all the heavy lifting.
19. Mace Windu (Star Wars: Episode III-Revenge of the Sith)
Tumblr media
"May the Force be with us all."
Mace Windu is a boss. He knows how to shut shit down and if Anakin hadn't been a total back stabber (or hand slicer, really), none of the problems they're facing would've been a thing. Instead, Mace gets betrayed and killed by twp people he considered allies.
18. Gabriel (Constantine)
Tumblr media
"You're fucked."
I kinda see Grabriel's frustrations in the film. Why should rapists go to heaven just because they repent? Like where's the justice in that? Do I think all humans need to prove their goodness by having Satan's son bring Armageddon to Earth? Absolutely not. Gabriel definitely goes a little insane and because he tries to help Satan Jr., God takes away his wings and makes him human.
17. Sithandra (Aeon Flux)
"You taught me a lot more than that."
Sithandra is a rebel and Aeon's best friend. She had a cool surgery done that replaced her feet with two extra hands. Her loyalty to Aeon is tested when it seems Aeon betrayed the rebels but their friendship prevails as she leads a team of rebels to protect Aeon and Trevor from Oren. Too bad she runs out of bullets just as Oren sends a missile her way, killing her in front of Aeon.
16. Chas Kramer (Constantine)
"You were right, John. It's not like in the books."
I was so angry when Chas died! Like here we have this young kid that just wants to help and actually does help in a huge way. At first all he does is drive John around in a taxi and fails miserably to get into Midnite's club, but turns out he really did his reading. When John couldn't muster up the chant to stop Satan Jr.'s birth, Chas came in and saved the day. And then he died, very brutally.
15. Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader (Star Wars: Episode III-Revenge of the Sith)
Tumblr media
"You underestimate my power!"
Anakin is the type of person who will literally do every shitty thing possible and then still try to make himself the victim. Like how can you justify calling the Jedi evil when you're out here killing children? He even admits he wants all the power in the world to Padme but still tries to act like the Jedi are selfish when Obi-Wan confronts him. Wack! I'm glad he burned to a crisp and I straight up GIGGLED when he got his legs sliced off (Obi-Wan literally told him not to and he does it anyway). He SOMEHOW survives and is transformed into the dangerous Darth Vader that fans of the series have come to know him by.
14. Gail (Sin City)
Tumblr media
"Always and never."
I knew I was going to like Gail as soon as she listed tying people up in chairs as one of her specialties. She seems to be the leader of the prostitutes that run Old Town and isn't afraid to get her hands dirty. I think she actually prefers it, which is why I think its accurate that Dwight dubbed her as "Valkyrie." Only thing off about her, for me, was her relationship with Dwight. I mean it seemed obvious she was into him from the get go but I kinda hoped they didn't end up together.
13. Sue Storm/Invisible Woman (Fantastic Four)
"I can't believe I'm doing this again!"
Sue is still in love with Richard but since he isn't willing to courageously take their relationship to where it needed to go, she ended it and tried to move on with the douchebag known as Victor. After the space storm she learns she can not only turn invisible, but she can also create force fields. She spends most her time figuring out where she stands with Richard in their new lives as superheroes but when it comes down to the fighting she's quick and ready to get her hands dirty. Was the proposal a bit rushed at the end? Maybe, but it's clear her and Richard were meant for each other so positive vibes to them.
12. Alfred (Batman Begins)
Tumblr media
"What is the point of all those push-ups if you can't even lift a bloody log?"
Alfred is way more than just Bruce Wayne's butler. After his parents are killed he basically takes responsibility over him and raises him. Now that Bruce is a grown adult and bringing the Batman to life, Alfred starts going on his own secret reason. While Ra's Al Ghul is teaching Bruce how to become a legend, something that will never die, Alfred is doing whatever he can to make sure Bruce doesn't lose his humanity. He keeps wanting him to enjoy life and embrace who he is when he isn't wearing the cowl.
11. Aeon Flux (Aeon Flux)
Tumblr media
"We're meant to die, that's what makes anything about us matter."
Aeon is the best assassin working with the rebels. After the government kills her sister she's the one they send to take down their leader, Trevor Goodchild. Turns out he's actually good and used to be married to Aeon before the whole world fell apart. She has some really neat gadgets like tiny marbles that explode, shiny egg looking things that disrupt all technology, and she can make her eye pupil grow so she can see if someone spiked her drink. Plus she can do a bunch of flips and knows how to use a gun. It turns out she was meant to destroy everything about the society she lived in and lead it's people to the world outside, one they thought was a wasteland but turned out to be rich with nature and plant life.
10. Obi-Wan Kenobi (Star Wars: Epidsode III-Revenge of the Sith)
Tumblr media
"You were the chosen one!"
Obi-Wan Kenobi wasn't as condescending as he was in the last film so that was nice. In fact I think he was very much on his way to seeing Anakin as his true equal until Anakin decided to turn to the Dark Side. His infamous speech to Anakin after he's forced to take him down is pretty sad, he really cared about the other dude and it sucks to see someone you care about ruin themselves like Anakin did.
9. Dwight (Sin City)
"I'm Shellie's new boyfriend and I'm out of my mind."
So he starts off his chapter in a relationship with Shellie, fighting for her honor and then ends his chapter in a relationship with Gail, shooting down all his enemies. Besides him being a bit of a player, he was actually my favorite hero in all the stories. He's not ridiculously unbeatable like Marv and has more of a personalty than Hartigan. He actually admits to needing help from Gail and Miho to stop his enemies. He's obviously pretty smart because he's able to come up with plans left and right once things keep getting shittier which is also nice because I feel like everyone else just goes about things guns ablazing. He does to, but I like that he has back up plans.
8. Elektra (Elektra)
Tumblr media
"I died once."
Back from the dead, Elektra has turned into a deadly assassin with no emotion or attachments to anyone. To save her from this dark path, Stick has her tricked into protecting Abby from the Hand, a bunch of evil assassins. She takes care of them no problem, like it seems like she's afraid but when she faces them she pretty much kills them all with no problems. Despite the movie being kinda lame it was so good to finally see Elektra in her red outfit kicking ass with her pair of sai. Like most characters in the Daredevil universe, her tv counterpart ends up being a better version, but unlike the others I would go on record to say that movie Elektra wasn't bad, she was just decent.
7. Yoda (Star Wars: Episode III-Revenge of the Sith)
Tumblr media
"At an end your rule is, and not short enough was it."
Yoda is my favorite and only because he really knows how to throw down when he needs to. Like some people try to talk the bad guy into seeing the error of his ways. Nope, not Yoda. He literally always just shows up and is like "So, we're fighting." Except, he mixes up his speech while he does it. His fight against the Emperor was epic and he totally won until the other got to his safety net of soldiers. Still, Yoda accepted failure with grace and decided to leave into exile.
6. Johnny Storm/Human Torch (Fantastic Four)
Tumblr media
"Flame on!"
I feel like Johnny represents a lot of us in a situation where we discover we have powers and basically lose our minds because we've decided we're going to be superheroes. Like he changes their outfits, gives them their superhero names and basically creates the brand that is Fantastic Four because he's so excited to be a superhero. His fire/flying abilities definitely help feed the flame that is his confidence as he skyrockets to celebrity status via extreme sports and indulges in the pleasures of his female fans. Still, when it's time to actually be hero, he's there and ready to take on Doom, using his Super Nova heat to melt the metal man away.
5. Ducard/Ra's Al Ghul (Batman Begins)
Tumblr media
"If someone stands in the way of true justice, you simply walk up behind them and stab them in the heart."
Ra's Al Ghul is the leader of the League of Shadows, a clan that serves their own justice against those who break the law. Wanting to take down Gotham, the international city of crime, he ends up training the city's prince, Bruce Wayne. Using the death of Wayne's parents as a tool, Al Ghul ends up basically creating the Batman. He's the one that really drills into Bruce's head that he won't fix anything as just a single man. Of course, his methods of justice are radical, to say the least, and it ends up putting him at odds with the new Dark Knight. This ends up being a classic battle of student vs teacher, with Wayne eventually outsmarting Al Ghul at the end.
4. John Constantine (Constantine)
Tumblr media
"Gods a kid with an ant farm, lady. He's not planning anything."
My new aesthetic is John Constantine giving Satan the middle finger as he's ascending into heaven. I'm familiar of the character in the comics but I think I only know about the current magic-based one instead of the religious one they tried to portray in the movies. His goal is simple: get ins God's good graces so he doesn't get sent to hell. He doesn't accomplish this by defeating demons like he does throughout the whole movie, or by even stopping the birth of Satan's son, but by giving up his chance at life to spare one girl from a tortuous eternity in hell. He still doesn't end up in Heaven, but now he has a clean slate to live life right.
3. Ben Grimm/The Thing (Fantastic Four)
"It's clobberin' time!"
Ben definitely got the short end of the stick when it came to abilities. Sure he now has super strength but his new rock appearance has people, including his now EX-fiance, running away screaming. What's worse is that, unlike the others, Ben can't even turn it off or on, he's just stuck that way. So I totally get the depressed state he's in when he thinks Richard isn't trying to help him and appreciate so much that despite all that he's still loyal and quickly takes on the Thing again to help his friends go up against Doctor Doom and put a stop to him. In the end he does find happiness with Alicia and his witty banter with Johnny was one of the best parts of the film.
2. Miho (Sin City)
Tumblr media
*Silently kills everyone*
Miho is the best damn thing about this entire movie. Each freaking story is about a man saving a helpless girl in some way, shape, or form and Miho just defies all that nonsense. She's a prostitute by day, assassin by night and she literally always gets shit done. She kills a car full of assholes all by herself and saves Dwight's ass several times during the chapter. She can handle several weapons including samurai swords, ninja stars, and a bow and arrow. I'm positive she could go toe to toe with every other character in this film and still come out on top, YES I'm even including Marv because his slow ass wouldn't even see her coming.
1. Bruce Wayne/Batman (Batman Begins)
Tumblr media
"Bats frighten me. It's time my enemies shared my dread."
This is the first time we really get an in depth look at how Bruce Wayne becomes the Batman, Gotham's protector. The loss of his parents give him the anger, but its the teachings of Ra's Al Ghul as well as the advice from those close to him that give him the tools to truly serve justice in a city that knows no meaning of the word. It's a hard task getting the police on his side as he tries to rid the city of its most powerful criminals like Falcone and Scarecrow. There's even a personal struggle of keeping the bat separate from the man, as his romance with Rachel won't go any further unless he gives up the costume. Odds are he won't be giving it up soon after he investigates this new enemy that we all know very well. This film was a great birth to one of the most iconic super heroes in comics and one that finally gets DC rolling on it's feet.
10 notes · View notes
caphasamericasass · 7 years
Text
The Tin Man and the Viper Part 4
Bucky Barnes x OC
Sucky Summary: AU Post Civil War Steve Rogers returns from Wakanda with a partially repaired Bucky Barnes to the Avengers compound.  Excited to introduce his first best friend to his BFF of the 21st century (OC), he’s shocked to discover that a deep change has occurred in her from when they were last united.  Bucky’s never been one for puzzles but finds some solace in her silence in a new world that’s spinning out of their control.  
Word Count: 1.8+
Characters: Bucky
Warnings: Anxiety, Panic Attacks
PART ONE // PART TWO // PART THREE
Stella’s POV
This cannot be happening. I’ve spent approximately two minutes listening to Barnes’ increasing heartbeat (225 beats precisely) as he slowly backed himself into the far corner of the elevator and slides to the ground. Thanks to my newly enhanced night vision and the slight eerie illumination coming from the red flashing emergency light, I can see that his eyes are squeezed shut and he’s pulling his knees up to his chest.  I know that this is so very not good for the Winter Soldier to be having a nervous breakdown but then again I know first hand that nervous breakdowns never occur at good times anyway.  The bottom line is that this is not a flicker and I’m going to have to call for helps because Barnes is completely useless; if I stay in here alone with him for too long who knows what I might do to him if I lose control.  
I tear my eyes away from the broken man on the floor who’s now lowly muttering repetitively and open the panel for the emergency phone.
It’s a short conversation that I spend glancing back and forth between Bucky and the metal wall panels surrounding us.  He doesn’t seem to have noticed me speaking—the way my unused voice rasps into the phone.  I hang up dejectedly before turning my full attention to Buck who’s now shaking violently. It’s almost comical that after decades and decades of Hydra torture, Steve truly believed he could possibly be back to his old self after only a handful of years on the run.  But this display is certainly not comical, and over the phone I had spared Bucky the indignity of describing the situation to the operator; I had told him that we were okay and that was most definitely a lie.
“Bucky…” I’m unwilling to talk to Bucky but I know that I have to get him calmed down before he hurts himself.  I turn around facing away from him to compose myself, counting to ten slowly. Swallowing thickly I can feel my face change as Bucky’s scent grows stronger without circulation in this elevator. He smells amazing, like a warm fire on a black winters night.  I take a few deep breaths willing my body to suppress the primal instincts nagging at every bit of my being.  Bucky, my teammate needs me.  I need to protect him from both of us.  
I turn myself back to try again.  He’s still crouching in the corner trembling violently and even if he’s kind of a douchebag it breaks my heart a tiny bit.  In my mind, the red light bathing his form creates parallel images of him being experimented on by Hydra and I’m unable to stave of the resulting cringe.
“Bucky,” I say this time with more certainty.  His eyes peek at me just above his knees through curtains of hair before lowering back down immediately.  Quickly I bring my fingertips to right below my eyes, feeling for a vein out of place but the skin feels normal, meaning Barnes reaction has nothing to do with me. That’s relieving.
“The operator said there was a mistake on the flyers about the elevator renovations.  They’ve already cut the power and began work on the other elevator so there’s no way they can turn this one back on without endangering the workers on the main elevator.  We’ll have to wait it out,” I say.  Bucky backs himself into the corner even more, folding himself into the space where the wall panels intersect at 90 degrees.  It’s frightening how one of the biggest men I have ever known can make himself unwittingly look so small, and that’s when it dawns on me: Barnes has no idea who I am, he doesn’t recognize my voice and in this moment, even with his super serum eyesight I probably look like a distorted red shadow person to him. I look like Hydra.
“Bucky…it’s me, Estelle. Do you know who I am?”
“No you’re not.”
“Why don’t you think I’m Estelle?”
Bucky doesn’t even look up as he releases a broken sob.  “Stella doesn’t talk.”
Fucking knew it.  “I had to talk.  You weren’t going to be the one to call for help, were you?”  No verbal response but a series of smaller sobs. “I’m going to come closer to you so you can smell me and see me better.”
He continues shaking as I slowly cross the elevator in a few short steps trying to frighten him anymore. He’s like a scared dog whose been left outside in a storm for far too long.  Crouching down, I get a look at kneecaps and forearms that are so tightly wrapped around them.  “Bucky… it’s me.  Look at me,” I command.
He peeks back over his knees, I can see his eyes are wet and red-ringed, but he doesn’t say anything once more.  He flinches back as I raise my hand up so I pause, letting it hover in front of his wary line of sight.  Hesitantly I move again, offering it to an animal so that it might pickup my scent. Bucky doesn’t move away as I gently rest my fingertips on his arms and still once more.  I have a bad idea that might calm him down but it’s going to be a true test to my self-restraint and very masochistic, however the more I speak right now the more freaked out Barnes is going to get which means talking him down in not an option.  
Slowly, I drag the pads of my fingers across his fleshy forearm and he watches them like a pendulum as he shakes beneath me.  Closing my eyes I try to focus on two things: releasing the right amount of pheromones and keeping my face from shifting.  Perks of being a predator include natural hunting techniques, such as releasing pheromones that lull the prey into a false sense of calmness and relaxation.  By releasing strong pheromones I should be able to increase Bucky’s Gamma-aminobutyric acid, which will reduce anxiety and fear as my preys neurotransmitters are overexcited.  
Reopening my eyes, I dare to move a little further and lay my palm on the bend of his elbow.  Leisurely, I rub my palm against his skin, and further up to the sleeve of his black t-shirt.  I’ve gone over his shoulder when he starts to relax slightly under my touch, and I creep further gently brushing his neck before cupping his cheek.  He stills, before his eyes flutter shut and he leans into my touch.  It would be sweet really, if it weren’t for the sound of rushing blood throbbing in my ears.  
I use my free hand to lightly pry Buck’s arms loose from his knees as a teardrop trickles from a closed eyelid, but he lets me open his arms and softly nudge his knees apart.  It’s just enough space for me to waddle closer to him, fitting snuggly between his bent legs, his knees fitting perfectly in the dips above my hips.  Hesitantly, but on his own accord I feel him shift and wrap his arms around my waist pulling me closer to him as my knees slide forward against the cool steel flooring gently halting at his crotch. He looks up at me.  In the dark I cannot see the color in his eyes but the red light reflects the saline harshly before I move my hand from his cheek and slide it into his long hair, grasping at the strands tenderly before he buries his face in my stomach and begins to sob once more.  
Is this what an out of body experience feels like, I wonder. My movements have become completely mechanical as I sink back on my haunches moving Bucky’s face into my chest. My left hand remains in his hair scratching his scalp comfortingly as my right arm wraps around his shoulders. The juxtaposition isn’t lost on me; he’s a drowning man clinging to a lifejacket, and I am an anaconda grooming my meal.  But Bucky is a friend, not food.  I repeat this phrase, friend not food, over and over in my head as stare above him at the railing hanging from the wall.  I can feel my skin shifting and the room getting brighter as my night vision gets stronger but I stare ahead, afraid that if I spare the shuddering form in my embrace a single glance that I will catch sight of a vein protruding from his taught flesh.
Bucky says something and it pulls me out of myself. He’s still shuddering, but I swallow and bring myself back in.  I’m in the Avenger tower, in an elevator with my teammate James Buchannan Barnes.  The veins recede again, and for a short moment I trust myself to open my eyes and pull back from Bucky enough to see his face as he sits more up right.  “Stella…I’m sorry.”
“What could you possibly have to be sorry for, Buck?”  I can feel the shiver run down his spine transfer a surge of energy to me as I swallow it hard willing my eyes not to shift again unsure of how much Bucky can see.
“For…” his voice cracks and tears begin to spill.  My heart aches knowing what it feels like to so desperately want to pull yourself together and yet remain unable to do so. “For this.”
I cup both of my hands on his cheeks moving my thumbs back and forth like windshield wipers.  “Are you afraid, Bucky?”
He nods up and down.  God, he looks like a puppy.  “Don’t be.”
He rushes forward once more and I pull him back to my chest, relieved that his eyes are away from my face.  I rub his back as I speak, daring to rest my own cheek in his hair as the words come tumbling out.  “You are Bucky Barnes and I am Stella Sinclair.  We are avengers.  The elevator we are sitting in is located in the Avengers Tower, Manhattan, New York City. This elevator is down for maintenance. It will turn back on soon.”  I say these things quietly for my benefit as much as his, trying to ground us and keep both of our demons at bay.  His shaking ceases and I can hear his deep breathes loud and clear.
But then I distract myself with what Bucky needs, and hope if I keep talking to him aloud it will block out the sounds of rushing blood beneath his skin and his heartbeat that’s thudding through his chest against myself. “No one is going to hurt you, Bucky. I’m here.  I’ll be here until the end, and I promise no matter what that I will always protect you.  You are safe.”  I’m lying, because no creature with pumping blood will ever be safe from me.  But I want it to be true, so desperately.    
2 notes · View notes
jillmckenzie1 · 6 years
Text
Jump Up on Stage
One of my idols is Julia Child. Brilliant cook and charismatic personality, of course she was. She was also tall and gawky and quite homely. She bloomed late in life, doing nothing of public note for the first fifty of her many years and not exploring romance until her mid-thirties. She stumbled onto the passion of her professional life, French cooking, as the stumbled toward her 40th birthday. I relate to all of this late-blooming and awkwardness. Especially the bits about being tall and gawky. *insert self-deprecating eyeroll here* I love cooking and could write another column about that (hint, hint, OnDenver editors!). The stumbled-upon passion this column talks about is not cooking, though; it’s performing.
I grew up with the conviction that my “back talk” and general smart-alecness were bad things. I spent a fair amount of my childhood with soap in my mouth because of them. Eventually, I learned to pack them down tight into a box and never, ever let them percolate up to the surface, thus eliminating a whole lot of sinfulness. I later discovered that sin is a ton of fun. Improv is the stumbling block that threw me off the wagon of righteousness and into the pit of iniquity that is self-expression through the performing arts.
I signed up for my first improv class in the hopes that learning to improvise social skills (I had none at the time) would help me salvage a rocky relationship. In fact, it did the opposite. Being taught that my contribution to a relationship mattered and that I should speak for myself were NOT values that that domestic partner appreciated. The relationship quickly ended and I fell in love with improv and improvisers instead.
I didn’t set out with the intention of finding an improv class to improve myself. I happened across a Groupon offering a discount on beginner-level improv classes and a light bulb went off: I should do this! I nervously attended the first several weeks and was just starting to feel ok about talking out loud in a group when the instructor announced, “Be here early next week; it’s our first performance.”
Performance?! Like on a stage?!?! In front of strangers!??!!??! I had not expected this.
I picked through my wardrobe and selected the shirt that I thought least likely to exhibit epic pit rings. I also went to the drugstore and bought a HUGE stick of prescription-strength antiperspirant whose label claimed to keep me dry as the Sahara for a full 72 hours. I slathered my armpits from the tip of my elbow to the bottom of my rib cage. I sweated a lot anyway. I can barely remember the performance itself.
This was seven years ago. I no longer flop-sweat before shows and I’ve learned how to turn “back talk” into actual jokes. I’ve become a different person that I was back then. I speak with my own voice and have slowly begun to think that I have worth. This may seem like a lot to attribute to a couple of improv classes, and of course it is. But those classes were the genesis of a new self, a new life, a whole and healthy person.
Thanks for staying with me through that self-indulgent romp into my own history. I only bring it up because it illustrates why I so firmly believe in the power of the arts and why I avidly support getting everyone into them! After thousands of hours on stage and in writing rooms, it sometimes is hard to remember how intimidating (and sweaty) it was to walk up to the mic for the first time. Or the third time. Or the tenth time. I love watching newbies shake and stammer and then walk off stage with a huge grin plastered ear to ear because the rush is just that good. Accordingly, I would like to share a few ways for you, dear reader, to dip your toes in the waters of performing arts!
There’s two ways to get started in anything: take a class or just plunge in. Summer is a great time to try out some classes for a variety of arts. If you want to try a group-based, relational form, go for improv!  I highly recommend Jon Jon Lannen’s class series coming up this summer. It teaches short-form improv, a style based on fast-paced jokes and games. (If you’ve ever seen Whose Line Is It Anyway, that’s classic short-form improv.) Jon’s a fantastic improviser and all-around good guy with a knack for making newbies feel comfortable and confident. (He also does private coaching and some other fun stuff, too.) You can even use my own first-time pathway via Groupon!
If you just want to try a tiny nibble of improv to see if you might like to do more, try attending a jam. A jam is where bunch of unaffiliated improvisers gather together in the light of the full moon to bathe in the blood of comedy virgins. Just kidding. We get together to play with new people and old people we haven’t played with before. I wrote last week about the Ladies’ Jam and a while before that about Barkley’s. These are both still running and you should totally jump in and play!
If talking in front of people sounds a little dodgy to you, you might enjoy the non-verbal circus arts, like aerial dance, acrobatics, juggling, etc. I haven’t talked too much about my life in circus and acrobatics, but physical training has also been a big part of me becoming me. Gravity Aerial Arts has great introductory classes, as does the Moth and the Circus Collective. If you’re more into the hand-based circus skills, Up Down Circus, helmed by the incomparable Warren Hammond, world juggling champion and bon vivant, offers juggling, diabolo, poi spinning, and more (for kids, too!)
For neat-whiskey initiation to comedy, you can’t beat stand-up. (To continue my sweaty confessional, the first time I did stand-up, I wrote my notes on my hand and then held that hand over a fan to keep from sweating the ink off while waiting my turn.) The Mercury Cafe hosts Diagnosis Hysterical, a monthly (!) open stage for women only, which is a fantastic idea! (Of course, men and others are welcome in the audience.) The Merc also hosts another open mic on Wednesdays for musicians, comics and magicians of all genders. The Denver Bicycle Cafe also has a no-pressure open mic for newbie (and seasoned) comedians on Sunday nights.
Of course, the classes and workshops I recommend here do not mandate that you go up on stage. You can certainly take the class for the skills and fun and decline to perform, but I encourage you to try it. Take a deep breath and step out there! The stage is waiting for your voice!
from Blog https://ondenver.com/jump-up-on-stage/
0 notes