For various versions of imthenewguy
I tried to write something about them when they were older but everything I worked on was horribly sad and I just couldn't do that to them. I can give them a little angst but not the amount that was happening. Then this bunny bit me so I ran with it.
College!aged Sam and Jan - Forgiveness.
“Saaaaaam! I can’t! You know what happened last time!”
“Yeah, they told you your composition was a little off, but you had a decent grasp of anatomy. They said you were pretty good considering your age. I was there, remember?”
“Yeah, but this time it could be worse. These things can be brutal.”
“And you’ve had two years to prepare for it. You’re awesome, Jan. Everyone says so.”
“They’re my friends! They have to say I’m awesome.”
“Your teachers say you’re awesome. Have some faith, okay?”
“I - I - “ Jan swallowed hard as she tried to think of some excuse that would distract him and resorted to pleading instead. “Saaaaam, please!”
He slowed for a moment, and then continued forward, ignoring her protests and her attempts to dig in the heels of her boots to slow him. Next time they went to a con, she was wearing something with better traction even if it didn’t match her costume. As they neared the reviewing table, her protests changed to threats to the near-mint comics he’d had signed earlier in the day. Her elaborate plans to turn his signed first issues into confetti stuttered to a stop when she saw who was a part of the panel. “Oh my gawd, Sam. That’s Jim Lee. Jim. Lee. I can’t have my portfolio critiqued by Jim Lee!”
And…was that? Oh, God. Not just Jim Lee, but most of artists who had inspired her to want to work in comics. “That’s - That’s - ” Seeing that much talent in one place kind of fried her brain. “I’m never going to forgive you if they say I suck.”
“They’re not going to say you suck,” he said, sounding far too confident as he found the end of the line and maneuvered her into place. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close so she couldn’t bolt, oblivious - or not so oblivious knowing how much Sam enjoyed it when she wore short skirts - to how it made the hem of her costume ride up.
Her costume…
Oh, God. She was going to get her portfolio reviewed by her idols while dressed like a reject from a bad 60’s sci-fi show. “At least let me change into something less geeky before I do this.”
“They’re used to geeks. And if you go change, you’ll stay in our hotel room and not come out until the end of the con.”
Okay, so she’d kinda been planning that, but still…
“C’mon, Jan. This is your dream. You’ll regret it if you don’t do this.”
He was right, dammit. This could be her big chance and she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t take it.
“Sometimes I really hate it when you’re right.” She let out a frustrated sigh, hand twisting on the handle of her portfolio case. “I’m scared,” she muttered, staring down at her completely untrustworthy boots.
“I know, Jan,” he whispered, pulling her closer so he could kiss her temple. “But you’re good and they’ll see it.”
She really couldn’t argue with that. Not the whole being good thing but the confidence he had in her and her abilities. If he could have faith in her then she’d have to do the same no matter how terrifying this was. So she stood with him, alternating fidgeting and leaning against him to help bolster her resolve, reluctantly smiling whenever he gently teased her about her nervousness.
It took an eternity for it to finally be her turn. She stood in front of the table, watching the people she most respected flip through her drawings and paintings, trying not to twitch over every muttered comment or undecipherable look. Finally they came to the last sketch and she began to blush.
Her final project. She just had to slip that one into the portfolio before she left. Sam looked over her shoulder at the portrait and she could feel him smirking behind her. She just had to go through with her teasing that she’d base it on the picture he’d texted her months ago while she had been stuck in her study group. Sam shirtless with his hair dripping wet, water droplets and sunshine used to carefully emphasize that, yes, she really did have an excellent grasp of anatomy. Especially his anatomy.
The picture got them both amused looks, which did nothing to lessen her blush. Then, the group began their analysis, carefully critiquing her work, pointing out both her strengths and the areas she needed to work on. It was similar enough to her own thoughts on the pieces and what her teachers had said for it not to be the brutal experience she’d feared.
And more importantly, they’d given her hope. They thought that with some work, she’d have a chance. And that, that was what she’d needed to hear most.
She was almost floating as Sam helped her gather up her drawings and led her away from the booth. When they were out of earshot, he turned her around, grinning at her dazed expression. “So, am I forgiven?”
She blinked as she focused on him and slowly returned his grin. “Yeah,” she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him an enthusiastic kiss that had the people around them cheering and whooping. “Totally forgiven.”
College!aged Sam and Jan - Forgiveness.
“Saaaaaam! I can’t! You know what happened last time!”
“Yeah, they told you your composition was a little off, but you had a decent grasp of anatomy. They said you were pretty good considering your age. I was there, remember?”
“Yeah, but this time it could be worse. These things can be brutal.”
“And you’ve had two years to prepare for it. You’re awesome, Jan. Everyone says so.”
“They’re my friends! They have to say I’m awesome.”
“Your teachers say you’re awesome. Have some faith, okay?”
“I - I - “ Jan swallowed hard as she tried to think of some excuse that would distract him and resorted to pleading instead. “Saaaaam, please!”
He slowed for a moment, and then continued forward, ignoring her protests and her attempts to dig in the heels of her boots to slow him. Next time they went to a con, she was wearing something with better traction even if it didn’t match her costume. As they neared the reviewing table, her protests changed to threats to the near-mint comics he’d had signed earlier in the day. Her elaborate plans to turn his signed first issues into confetti stuttered to a stop when she saw who was a part of the panel. “Oh my gawd, Sam. That’s Jim Lee. Jim. Lee. I can’t have my portfolio critiqued by Jim Lee!”
And…was that? Oh, God. Not just Jim Lee, but most of artists who had inspired her to want to work in comics. “That’s - That’s - ” Seeing that much talent in one place kind of fried her brain. “I’m never going to forgive you if they say I suck.”
“They’re not going to say you suck,” he said, sounding far too confident as he found the end of the line and maneuvered her into place. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her close so she couldn’t bolt, oblivious - or not so oblivious knowing how much Sam enjoyed it when she wore short skirts - to how it made the hem of her costume ride up.
Her costume…
Oh, God. She was going to get her portfolio reviewed by her idols while dressed like a reject from a bad 60’s sci-fi show. “At least let me change into something less geeky before I do this.”
“They’re used to geeks. And if you go change, you’ll stay in our hotel room and not come out until the end of the con.”
Okay, so she’d kinda been planning that, but still…
“C’mon, Jan. This is your dream. You’ll regret it if you don’t do this.”
He was right, dammit. This could be her big chance and she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t take it.
“Sometimes I really hate it when you’re right.” She let out a frustrated sigh, hand twisting on the handle of her portfolio case. “I’m scared,” she muttered, staring down at her completely untrustworthy boots.
“I know, Jan,” he whispered, pulling her closer so he could kiss her temple. “But you’re good and they’ll see it.”
She really couldn’t argue with that. Not the whole being good thing but the confidence he had in her and her abilities. If he could have faith in her then she’d have to do the same no matter how terrifying this was. So she stood with him, alternating fidgeting and leaning against him to help bolster her resolve, reluctantly smiling whenever he gently teased her about her nervousness.
It took an eternity for it to finally be her turn. She stood in front of the table, watching the people she most respected flip through her drawings and paintings, trying not to twitch over every muttered comment or undecipherable look. Finally they came to the last sketch and she began to blush.
Her final project. She just had to slip that one into the portfolio before she left. Sam looked over her shoulder at the portrait and she could feel him smirking behind her. She just had to go through with her teasing that she’d base it on the picture he’d texted her months ago while she had been stuck in her study group. Sam shirtless with his hair dripping wet, water droplets and sunshine used to carefully emphasize that, yes, she really did have an excellent grasp of anatomy. Especially his anatomy.
The picture got them both amused looks, which did nothing to lessen her blush. Then, the group began their analysis, carefully critiquing her work, pointing out both her strengths and the areas she needed to work on. It was similar enough to her own thoughts on the pieces and what her teachers had said for it not to be the brutal experience she’d feared.
And more importantly, they’d given her hope. They thought that with some work, she’d have a chance. And that, that was what she’d needed to hear most.
She was almost floating as Sam helped her gather up her drawings and led her away from the booth. When they were out of earshot, he turned her around, grinning at her dazed expression. “So, am I forgiven?”
She blinked as she focused on him and slowly returned his grin. “Yeah,” she laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him an enthusiastic kiss that had the people around them cheering and whooping. “Totally forgiven.”