#stumptown abc

[soft-persephone]

Strange Kind of Feeling: (The Spell You Put me Under)

Grey McConnell x Black!Fem!Reader

I write with black women in mind, but all women are still welcome!

M // MDNI // WC: 5k // WA: mention of SA in conversation, but nothing graphic and no details. Biting during sex. Teasing. Dirty talk. Nipple play?// AN: I know nothing about Portland. Please don’t come for me // masterlist // summery:

Your friend tricks you into going to this bar for a mess you have nothing to do with, but a certain bartender has your attention, and you can’t find it in you to stop staring at him.

“Why do we need to be here?” You raised an eyebrow.

The Bad Alibi didn’t look like every other bar in Portland. It was rustic, full of metal, it was clean, but there could still be a thin layer of soot. Who knows?

Maybe it was just the vibe that made it feel that way, or there really was a thin layer of the stuff everywhere.

There were still homemade IPAs and all of those goodies in abundance, but you could tell whisky reigns supreme in this place.

One look at the bartender alone affirmed that belief.

A well taken care of and equally well worn red flannel was rolled up at the sleeves, he was thick and stocky, but it was accompanied by a sensible height, a lovely head of hair you wanted to run your fingers through, and a beard you were dying to touch.

He looked up with a quick smile and a wave before his face fell into a more neutral expression. You just as quickly averted your gaze back to your friend.

Fuck.

You hoped he wouldn’t notice you staring.

“I met this girl, and she was talking about you, so now we need to be here and talk to her.”

You did not like the forced casual straightforward tone or the vagueness in everything Luna was saying to you. Nothing about Luna was straightforward and to the point.. or weirdly and dangerously vague.

“A girl you just met was talking about me?” You looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes.” Your friend averted her gaze before looking back up at you apologetically.

“And you think that’s just some type of coincidence?”

Luna fiddled with her fingers.

“Would you have come here if I told you?”

“From the way you are asking me that, no.”

“It’s about Dillon.” She said flatly, furring her brow in an effort to stand up to your bereavement at her.

“Dillon?!” You laughed dryly at that.

“Dillon Tryson,” a voice interrupted, making a beeline into your eye of vision and slamming a folder on a table in front of you, “you know him?”

“Unfortunately,” you sighed, taking a seat, “however I don’t see what this has to do with me.”

Two long excruciating hours later, and you both finally reached a conclusion she was happy with.

Dillon was an old client of yours at a PR firm. You were representing him until he committed the ultimate fuck up of character and career assassination of sexually assaulting someone.

Per protocol, you did one final statement and you guys fucking dropped him. A PR firm is only as good as its results, and this guy was a fucking failure.

She was looking for him.

You give her what you could, but for some reason she thinks you're lying, and you are running out of ways to prove how you, obviously, are not lying to her.

“He was a client of yours? How are you not protecting him through this? Your firm is clearly in on what he did with this poor young girl. There is no way you guys can just wash your hands of this!”

You were trying to take this moment seriously. You really were, but your eyes kept meeting the bartenders. You wanted to observe him in his natural habitat, and he was trying to figure out the commotion going on at your table.

You found your eyes at his arms again which soon led you to the new discovery of his hands. God, his hands., massive things they were. Your eyes trailed the path of veins on his arms to his hands. You admired the dexterous arches of his fingers as he maneuvered glasses of drinks and bottles of beers. How he’d towel freshly washed ones before putting them away.

Thoughts of how they would feel soon plagued your mind. Were they soft? Were they rough? Would he caress your skin gently or knead your flesh roughly in an effort to amass your inevitable destruction, pushing you to a point of no return until you beg him to stop. Breaking your skin and pulling at flesh, molding himself to you with such harsh thrust you feel the shadow of his body in you for the rest of the week. Until that deep seated ache becomes a memory.

Would he tease you with those hands or would he worship you?

You needed to stop thinking about him before you were too far gone, but you couldn’t fight the new desire to study his face just as intently. You Just need to watch him a little bit longer. Then you would stop, and move on with your life. You slowly eyed up his torso, savoring the last glance before you pinched yourself back into reality, back into the conversation you were having.

When you reached his face, you were met with a heady gaze.

You sucked in a sharp breath.

Dark pools of brown were staring into you. You couldn’t prove it, but you could feel his eyes boring into you, exposing you for what you are, what you were doing. His jaw pulled taught as he silently studied you from afar. He didn’t smirk, he didn't gloat laugh. . . He just stared into you.

A hand snapped its fingers into your face.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Dex seethed at her. “Do you not take this seriously?”

“I do, I do!” You raised your hands in defense before licking your lips and ripping your eyes away from his heated stare to face the woman in front of you.

She narrowed her eyes at you, turning around in her seat to see what could possibly be holding your attention.

She berated you with more questions even opting to go back to the beginning, asking you questions she already knew the answer to.

You cant take her questions, you cant take the gaze of this man you had never met before, the atmosphere of the room itself was starting to close in on you.

“Calm the fuck down!” you hissed. “ You wanted to scream, but the result of having even more eyes on you was a nightmare. You just needed the yelling to stop before it got worse. “Here is the key to my office and the password to my computer as well as my work phone, “you threw it on the table along with the napkin you just wrote on. “Have a blast.”

“Well.” Dex stood up, pursing her lips. Her expression unreadable to you. Her regards of ambivalent contemptment for you was now replaced with judging disdain. “You're staying here until I can prove your involvement –

“ – or lack of involvement.” you interrupted.

‘We’ll see about that.” She scoffed before turning to your friend Luna, “You're coming with me.”

Before walking out the door, your friend slyly turned around without the other women noticing and gave you a smile of complete glee.’

You mouthed an, ‘you owe me’ and she gave you a thumbs up.

You stood awkwardly for a moment. The bar was less than quiet, people were petering out one by one, save for a few lonely souls left at the main bar, quiet and long gone.

Avoiding his eyeline, you made your way over and took a seat at one of the barstools.

“What do you like?” his voice flooded your senses. It was low and gravely, but with a hint of teasing that didn’t match the heaviness of his gaze. As much as the butterflies in your stomach were fluttering in a storm of fury within you. The titlewave of his presence was worth focussing on instead, your nerves be damned. You bit your lip and braved to make eye contact with him once more.

“Aside from the staring?” half of his mouth turned up into a smile before falling back into its neutral more intense state.

“Whisky.” You lkcked your lips before settling into your seat and finding a comfortable position to place your hands.

He grabbed two glasses before reaching high above several shelves to a tiny dark cabinet before pulling out a very complicated wooden box to reveal a small fat but decadent glass bottle, barely dented.

“Whisky.” He deftly poured a generous amount into each glasses.

You licked your lips nervously before nodding to him in thanks. He stared into your eyes and smiled, but you felt no mirth from his gaze, “my treat.” He leaned closer to you, the natural musk of his skin smelt as earthy as the whisky you were nursing in your hand.

You brought the glass to your nose and took in a deep breath of it, your eyes not breaking contact with his over the brim, licking your lips you took a sip.

It was smooth, the smoothest you’ve had in a while. The subtle notes of dark brown sugar didn’t help either. As slightly sweet as it tasted, it was even stronger, going straight to your head.

“Girl knows her whisky.”

You couldn’t help how quickly your eyes met his. How the slightest movement from him in this moment affected your posture, how your face changed and your eyebrows rose at his words, but you could hate yourself for it. No matter the fact that it was a human act out of your control, you could still regret it.

You finished off your glass, letting it thud against the counter as you bared your teeth at the strength of it. You felt headier than you should. You weren’t that drunk off of one drink, but from that serving alone you knew it could get you into trouble.

Were you looking for trouble?

He made a similar face. Letting out a strong low huff of appreciation before filling up both your glasses again. You opened your mouth to protest, but he leveled you with another look.

You licked your lips. “Please, I don’t think I—“

“Drink.” He said it low and gravely. The sound of his voice dancing against your ears filled your belly with a warmth stronger than the whisky ever could.

“I—“

He leaned over the counter, his face closer to yours, and oh what a mistake it was, what a mistake it all was. Your eyes glanced over every bump and curve of your face. The alchohol coursing through you was too strong to let you feel embarrassed about it.

“If your going to keep staring at me, then you drink when I say drink.” He graveled lowly in your face. His voice sounded even warmer than before. His breath tickled your nose and fanned across your face. You could smell the drink on his breath. You could smell it on him, and they both went so well together.

You should stop. You really should, but the temptation of his presence, being this close to him, was much more promising. It was worth risking.

“Drink.” He pulled away from you, and you bit your toughe at the loss of his presence before taking your glass and sipping on its contents once more.

“What do you want?” He said after a sip, darting his tongue across his lips before shifting his stance and tilting his head to the side.

You didn’t answer, weakly holding onto your glass.

“What do you want?” His voice sounded lighter, the words flowing out of him like a chuckle, but his eyes weren’t laughing.

“I,” you stopped yourself this time. You were both adults. There’s was no point of beating around the bush. He wouldn’t have kept you here for no reason.

“I want another shot of whisky.”

He nodded.

Taking the bottle once more he poured you a generous serving. You brought the glass to your lips. Instead of sipping its precious contents, your took the biggest gulp of it you could. Some of it sloshed on the side of the glass, your tongue darted out to catch it.

Upon doing so, this time you caught him staring at you. Somehow his gaze felt even heavier on you, his irises looking even darker than before.

You took your last drink, not breaking eye contact with him. He walked out the little opening on the side before stepping into your space. The little area between bar stools leaving him no other option other to crowd your space and you to let him.

Slowly, he brought his hand to your cheek, letting his thumb wipe at the corner of your mouth before slipping it into his mouth.

With a soft pop, he grabbed your glas from you and placed it on the counter.

“If we’re going to do this, your going to follow my rules.”

You nodded. Your chest was heaving and he barely touched you. You felt so overwhelmed you didn’t trust yourself to speak.

“You started this,” he slid his hand on the nape of your neck and roughly pulled you into him, “so you’re going to finish it,” he ended his sentence by bringing his mouth to yours. As if he was trying to take back every drop of whisky he gave you. His mouth was hot and heavy like his eyes. He mouthed at yours, he sucked on you, devoured you whole. His hands keeping you in place as he swiped his tongue roughly against yours.

He didn’t let you go until your lungs were screaming for air, but at that point you didn’t need air. You needed more of him.

Your chest rose and fell. Your mouth agape and panting. You felt almost dizzy as if cast under a spell.

“Yes,” you breathed out, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt, “please,” you panted, “please let me.”

He lived above his bar.

You figured it out as he dragged you up the stairs with his mouth on yours. His grip strong and tight as if you’d suddenly disappear on him, so you kissed him back with just as much desperation, licking into his mouth as he had done yours. The whisky tasting so much better on him. You longed to taste more to lick and suck every last drop of it out of his mouth..

You bit his lip as he sat on the edge of his bed, taking you down with him.

You started kissing away from his mouth, nipping at his cheeks in between, but you wanted his jaw. You wanted to start there and trail them down his neck, to get his shirt off and go even further. Mouthing at any and every part of his chest you could get to.

As if sensing what you wanted, he stopped you with a hard grip of his massive hand on your jaw.

“Now just what,” he huffed into your face, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Kisses.” Was all you could manage to pant out.

“Like I said earlier.” He squeezed his grip on your jaw a little tighter, making your cheeks puff up and your glasses slip a little too high onto your forehead. He gently took them off with his other hand before tossing them on his nightstand, “this all goes down how I want it to.”

He rubbed at your cheek gently with his thumb.

“That doe eyed look isn’t going to get you whatever you want, so you can put those puppy dog eyes away.”

A sound you’ve never made before fell out of your lips. It was high pitched like a wine, but even needier.

You squeezed your thighs around him, grinding slowly, chasing the feeling of his body.

He squeezed harder at your cheeks, bringing water to the edges of your eyes.

“What did I say?” He slowly peeled your skirt off your body after he rid you of your skirt, his hands roamed over your thighs, feeling and savoring every inch of your soft supple skin. They were calloused but not too harsh, smooth, and strong. They were large and hot on your body.

You leaned into his touch.

The thought of him slipping his fingers into you had you biting your lip. You wanted it. You wanted him oh so badly. So badly.

“I said it was going to be my way or not at all,” he let go of your face and slowly trailed his hand down your neck to your breast. He slowly thumbed at your nipple before pushing harshly, making you hiss, “and you said yes.”

He brought his other hand to your other breast, matching his movements for each one as he circled roughly at your nipples, each swipe of his thumbs caused you to cry out or wince at every turn and swirl of them on your skin. The flat of his palms were pushing and pulling at the swell of your breasts.

Every second felt like a lifetime, and with each small death and revival you grew wetter and wetter.

“You make such pretty noises.” He leaned in closer, kissing on your neck. “Wonder what you sound like when I do this.”

He wrapped his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking hard.

Balling your fists into his shirt, you keened.

The combination of hot wet mouth seeing into your skin as he sucked at your breast and the scratchiness of his beard was sending you over the edge.

You couldn’t cum yet, you just couldn’t. Not like this.

Moving, you tried to pull away, but when he switched his mouth to your other one, making sure to bite the nipple first before soothing the sting of with a swipe of his tongue.

You came with a small cry, wining and writhing in his lap.

He whispered words of encouragement in your ear, gently rubbing your back.

“Fuck.”

He looked at you with such reverence. The dark irises of his eyes almost sparkling at you in the dark, catching you off guard.

“You're perfect.”

You snapped your head to the wide, refusing to look at him.

“Pretty,” he grabbed your chin, making you look. “Beautiful even.,”

He slid you off his lap, placing you on the bed.

“Take your shirt off.”

As you clumsily fingered your buttons undone, you watched him slide his shirt over his head. His low simmering gaze shifted into one of half incredulous as he watched your jaw slack once his undershirt was off and he was unbuckling his belt.

You didn’t have time to process seeing all of him as he shoved his pants and underwear in one motion, he was already siding himself over you, pushing you slowly onto your back.

“Thought I told you to take this off.” He smirked before finishing the last buttons and throwing your shirt somewhere far and forgotten.

“Tried t—“ he plunged two fingers into your pussy, cutting you off.

“Toosoon.” Your chest tightened causing your voice to rise unexpectedly shrill.

He added another finger, making you flutter around the three of them curling in and out of you.

“This what you wanted when you kept staring at me down there?” He leveled at you, quickening the pace of his fingers. Your whines and pants, the wet squelching sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you filling the room.

“Yes.” You replied sharply with a moan.

“Aren’t you just a dirty little thing.” he abruptly pulled his fingers out of you and smacked your ass hard.

You yelped and he slapped your ass again before digging his fingers into the meat of it, pushing you down roughly into bed.

You couldn’t keep up. From the handful of moments he was sweet, the small moments where he was cruel and hurting you, and the moments he liked to mock you and praise you. Which one was he? Which one was really him?

But you couldn’t find the time to care about it now. You would take every morsel of praise, each sliver of praise, the sparingly few moments of gentleness, and the sprinkles of pain and cruelty. You would take it all. Any and every little thing he gave you.

His body smothering yours into the bed, you took each and every hard thrust of his hips into yours. His nails digging into the flesh of your skin and every hard slapping sound of his hips meeting yours caused you to gush around his cock every little bit more.

You fisted the sheets and clenched your teeth together to keep them from clattering together at one particularly hard thrust.

“Please,” you moaned. “ more. Harder.”

He bit the side of your neck hard, his tongue chasing the new indentions of his teeth on your skin before doing the impossible and obliging your request. Taking a fist of your hair, he pulled, thrusting down in unison.

The pleasure and pain tickled down your spine. It felt so good. You wanted his mouth on you once more. To bite you one more time. But as his cock slipply slid out of you, he cursed, tightening his grip on your hair even more.

“You're so wet.”

Your low howl of pain morphed into a moan as he pushed into you once more, letting go of your hair, he laid down on top of you, wrapping his hands around your front.

He moaned lowly in your ear, matching the responding harmony of the one spilling from your lips.

He set a new fast and languid pace that made your toes curl. He took this opportunity to twist and tease at one of your nipples.

“You're so pretty like this.” He kissed and sucked along your jaw, your neck, your collar, “making a mess just for me. Letting me use you however I want.” His words, the scratch of his beard as he focused on mouthing at your skin, if you didn’t wake up with a rash from the friction, you’d be surprised.

You managed to snake your hand behind you into his hair, pulling him closer to you.

“Bite me again,” you rasped, “hard.”

And he did, way harder than before.

You squeezed around him tight, and you both moaned as you came. His thirsts became shaky, his grip on your sides even harder, before he pulled out.

“Turn over.” He growled through his teeth.

With shaky legs and your head in a daze you managed to fall over into your back. Your hands splayed beside your head as you looked up at him with parted lips, your chest frantically heaving up and down as you made eye contact with him.

The site of your swollen nipples, the way your plush lips parted at him without a throught on your mind as your lust blown eyes took him in, desperately trying not to miss the way he fucked his own hand as he looked into you, as you looked into his eyes once more as you’ve done all night, he came, thick wet hot spurts of him spilled all over your chest. Littered with marks of his teeth.

—

You squint your eyes even further shut as the late morning rays of sunshine perturbed you from sleep.

You rolled over in bed, reaching to find a certain someone only to feel nothing.

You bolted upright in an instant.

Your body protested the moment as well as your head as it grew even fuzzier at the movement. You groaned.

You were hungover and your body aches everywhere, some places more than others. For good reason too.

“Slow down,” a voice from the other side of the room called, “don’t move so fast. You're going to hurt yourself.”

Large warm hand pushed a mug in yours.

“Good morning by the way.” He kissed you on the forehead before bounding off back into the kitchen.

Without thinking you slowly raise the mugs to your lips.

Everything was fuzzy. Why was everything fuzzy? Were you that hungover? What….

“Glasses!” You gurgled out in a mumble.

“Oh!” He plated whatever he was cooking on the stove before placing two on the table, already set with forks and knives.

He padded over once more. Grabbing your glasses from the nightstand on the other side of the bed. He wore a casual pair of pajama pants and a wife beater that complimented his wide shoulders.

You thanked him softly and reached for them, but he pulled them closer to him.

“Uhh uh.” He smiled down at you, making you sigh in defeat.

With a silent laugh he placed them on your face for you before kissing you in the forehead again.

“I can offer you breakfast if you like.”

“I’d like that.” You hummed, smiling softly.

He beamed, taking your mug from your hands to place it by your plate.

He was sweet.

Your skin held no sticky or uncomfortable residue and you were wearing a worn green t shirt .. or was it blue. It was so faded it was hard to tell. Maybe it used to be gray.

You stood on shaky legs and he rushed over to keep you stable. You jabbed him lightly in the chest.

“I got it.” You huffed.

He raised his hands in mock defeat before crossing his arms.

“If you say so..”

You laughed before putting your hand under your shirt, raising it a little as you softly touched one of your nipples. Still swollen and it hurt like hell as you moved. Even the smallest bit of friction from the t shirt was too much.

He swallowed, looking at you with intent before quizzically raising a brow.

“You, alright?” He gruffly asks before gesturing at your chest with a hand.

“I think I’ll live.” You huffed out a laugh as you both made your way to the table, but it was more at his supposed bashfulness. He caused this with his own mouth, but seemed too shy to talk about it.

“Let’s eat!”

Whenever a man brags about his cooking you take it with a grain of salt. However, his eggs were no joke.

“These are so good!”

“Right?” His chest puffed a little as you devoured your food.

Placing your fork down, you winced again.

“Are you sure we don’t need to—“

“No!”

A few beats of silence passed and he scratched the back of his neck.

“No,” you said softer again, “just give me a few painkillers and it’ll pass.”

He stood there. His face scrunched and unsure.

“I’ll be fine,” you stood up and placed your hands on his shoulders, “I promise.”

“Okay.” He tentatively looks at you once more time before heading to his bathroom.

You were about to sigh when you heard the door rattle before opening.

What the..

“What are you doing here?”

Dex.. the lady from last night who wouldn’t stop berating you. Was now berating you in—

“Grey what the fuck!”

“Dex?” He frowned, “uhh, what’s going on ? Why are you up so early?”

Oh that’s right. That’s what was missing. You were so desperate you both overlooked the obvious.

“Your name's Grey?” You asked.

You felt pretty dumb after the fact, but it was automatic earnestness that overridden your brain and made you ask.

“Grey McConnell.” He smiled at you, making his way over to your side as you both faced off against Dex.

The action had you forming one of your own. You fought the giggle bubbling inside you and told him your name.

He said it aloud, feeling how it sounded in his mouth, wishing he could have known it last night, and you slightly froze at the sound.

“I like that.”

Your face grew unbearably hot and you looked away, refusing to look at him saying your name, like that.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Dex hissed once more.

“Meet me downstairs!” She glared at you, “we didn’t finish our conversation about Dillon Tryson!”

She looked Grey up and down .“You two.” She pointedly looked at him before storming he way down the stairs out of his apartment.

You stilled stunned for a moment, blinking.

“She’s not that bad.”

“You’re friends?” You asked incredulously. Thinking about it, it probably wasn’t the nicest thing to say given the situation, but he didn’t seem to take it personal.

“Yeah, yeah.” He slowly moved you towards his bed, “let’s find you a pair of pants that fit.”

“I think I can fit into some of your pajama pants or sweats if you have any.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

As you both slowly made your way down the stairs he placed his hand on the small of your back, you hummed in surprise as your back arched into the touch. He breathed sharply through his nose which made you realize what you were doing.

“Fuck if you do that one more time I might have to drag you back upstairs and fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Your aching pussy throbbed at his words as you had to swallow your moan as Dex came into view at the bottom of the stairs.

“Sorry.” You managed to squeak out. Not entirely sure why you were saying sorry.

“I didn’t find anything comiramising, but I can’t shake the feeling that you're a liar! You're involved in this in some way!” Dex accused.

“You know you're not keeping that shirt or that pants right?” Grey questioned you as if Dex hadn’t said anything.

You purse your lips and force yourself not to look at the death glare she was sending your way.

“I’m sorry?”

“You're not walking out of here with this on.” He added before pinching at the fabric of your shirt with a smile, flapping it back and forth which made it rub against your painfully swollen nipples.

You couldn’t hide the wince of pain.

Mortified, your head snapped toward Dex, but she was looking up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes.

You grabbed Grey’s arms, but he didn’t let go, moving the shirt again, so you resulted in standing closer to him, but he only pulled you closer into him, your chest rubbing into his.

You were about to cry out but he shoved your face into him, muffling the sound of it as Dex snapped her head toward you both.

“Will you two knock it off! There is a woman's life at stake who deserves justice! This isn’t some fucking game!”

You looked up at Grey with a frown, and he only looked down at you with a casual smile. Like he was doing nothing wrong.

He might be sweet, he may be good at taking care of you, but he was a fucking menace.

He was going to be the death of you.

AN: thank you for reading!!

Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next one!!

[amandasmoviess]

I need to share this because..YOURE TELLING ME SHE IS MARRIED TO A MAN WHO SHE HAS TWO CHILDREN WITH AND ISNT THE SLIGHTEST BIT INTO WOMEN YET SHE KISSES GIRLS ON TV LIKE THAT?! I’m not convinced.

[ilovemarvelcu3000]

Fuck abc for canceling stumptown and depriving us of more gay cobie smulders

[perfectlyfinespacebacon]

my roman empire: shows of tv past

sometimes at night or even in the middle of the day, i think about all the unanswered and unfinished stories from cancelled tv shows. i petition that once they cancel a show they have to do sit down interviews to tell you what would've happened if the show continued. ones that immediately come into mind (that i've watched because there are literally too many to count):

the society (definitely the one that keeps me up the most)

warrior nun

the wilds

the secret circle

everything sucks

first kill

stumptown

prodigal son

1899

icarly revival

the royals (this needed to end though because of the showrunner)

stitcher

fate: the winx saga

the family (the one that was on abc)

finding carter

star-crossed

teenage bounty hunters

cloak and dagger (sort of...)

[theknightlywolfe]

Very frustrated trying to get my hands on the Stumptown show without giving Bezos more money. I already have access to Amazon Prime and yet I have to pay more? To not own it?

I would buy DVDs but all I can find is a release announcement and fan made DVD cases, not actual DVDs. I also have Hulu and Disney+ but even though it is available on the latter in Europe, that isn't true of the US.

I would watch reruns on the super duper channel selection satellite service I pay for but nope, ABC hasn't licensed it to anyone to air.

Grrr.

[cantsayidont]

Running on again and off again from Oni Press since 2009, STUMPTOWN is one of an assortment of competent but underwhelming Greg Rucka comics side projects that seem to have enjoyed something less than his full attention, a by-the-numbers detective series about Dex Parios, an Army veteran turned private investigator solving mysteries in the Portland area while taking care of a younger brother with Down syndrome. Rucka is a veteran mystery writer, but the comic is a pretty ordinary example of its genre and not at all memorable.

In 2019, the comic spawned a passable but relentlessly conventional STUMPTOWN TV series on ABC, starring Cobie Smulders as Dex, who in the show is a Marine veteran and bisexual human disaster area still finding her feet as a private eye while straining the patience of her best bud Grey (Jake Johnson, better than his part) and local cop ally/sometime love interest Miles Hoffman (Michael Ealy, annoyingly bland) with her persistent failure to deal with her own PTSD and her unresolved grief over the death of her one-time boyfriend, whose cagey mother (Tantoo Cardinal, excellent but underutilized) is the president of the Confederated Tribes.

Smulders is more than capable of carrying a series like this on charm alone, and the show makes Dex a significantly more three-dimensional character than the comics ever do. Unfortunately, some bright moments get lost in a sea of hokey TV contrivances that could have come from virtually any cop or detective show of the past 20 years, including a labored storyline about Dex's military service and the fate of her former boyfriend that feels like a recycled NCIS plot, and weak running gags like Dex only ever having one business card.

Consequently, the show never really rises above the level of pleasant background noise, and by the end of its single season, you probably won't cry to learn there's no more. CONTAINS LESBIANS: Dex is bisexual and (occasionally) sleeps with women, but don't hold your breath. VERDICT: The show is better than the comics, but it's TV the old-fashioned way.

[blogger360ncislarules]

File under: What Would’ve Happened Next.

Three years after ABC renewed, then un-renewed, Stumptown, series star Jake Johnson is revealing that Season 2 of the Cobie Smulders P.I. drama would’ve looked like a “totally different show” under the stewardship of new co-showrunner Monica Owusu-Breen (Marvel’s Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Fringe) and a completely overhauled writers’ room.

“It was going to be a totally different show in a very exciting way,” Johnson, who played ex-con Grey McConnell, tells The Hollywood Reporter. “Everything was building. Every single episode [would have had] a new love interest for Cobie [Smulders’ character Dex], kissing and fight scenes every week,” which probably would’ve spelled doom for the love triangle between Dex, Grey and Miles (played by Michael Ealy).

In the Season 1 finale, which aired in March 2020, Ansel opened his front door to reveal his long-estranged mother, whose appearance stunned older sister Dex. It was then that the episode cut to black, before viewers got a peek at Mama Parios, who would’ve been formally introduced in Season 2.

At the time, series creator Jason Richman told TVLine that the introduction of Dex and Ansel’s mother would’ve eventually led to their father, too. “Mom leads to Dad in a way that’s kind of circuitous,” he teased. “It gives [us] this deep-rooted, compelling storyline [for] Season 2.”

Alas, COVID delays made a second season cost-prohibitive, and ABC cancelled Stumptown in September 2020. “I get word that the amount of COVID testing they need to do is wild,” Johnson recalls. “They have no idea how to do any of it with social distancing. So we got a very honest call where they just tell us that the cost of COVID made it so high that we’d need like Seinfeld-in-the-’90s success to justify making Season 2.”

[thisent1]

Shining Example featuring Fiona Rene [A Column about Acts of Kindness] Negativity and selfishness gets great p...

[selimamir98]

Jacoba Francisca Maria "Cobie Smulders" (April 3, 1982) is a Canadian actress. She is known for her starring role as Robin Scherbatsky in the CBS sitcom How I Met Your Mother (2005–2014) and as S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Maria Hill in the Marvel Cinematic Universe superhero films The Avengers (2012), Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015), Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Avengers: Endgame (2019), and Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019), as well as the ABC action drama series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D (2013–2015), the Disney+ animated anthology series What If...? (2021), and the upcoming Disney+ limited series Secret Invasion (2023).

Smulders' other films include Safe Haven (2013), They Came Together (2014), Results (2015), and Jack Reacher: Never Go Back (2016). She also starred in the Netflix comedy drama series A Series of Unfortunate Events (2017), the Netflix comedy series Friends from College (2017–2019), the ABC crime drama series Stumptown (2019–2020), and the FX true crime series Impeachment: American Crime Story (2021).

Smulders was born in Vancouver, British Columbia, to a Dutch father and a British mother. She was raised in White Rock, British Columbia, and later moved to the affluent West Point Grey neighbourhood to attend high school at Lord Byng Secondary School. She was named after her great-aunt, from whom she gained the nickname "Cobie". Smulders describes herself as "a fluent listener" of French. She has four sisters. Smulders was also a member of the Girl Guides of Canada as a child, participating as a Brownie (Girl Guide program for 7- to 10-year-olds).

Smulders worked in modelling, which she later said she "kind of hated", adding that the experience made her hesitant about pursuing acting as a career: "You know, you go into these rooms, and I've had the experience of people judging you physically for so long and I was over that. But then it was like, 'Oh no, I have to actually perform. I have to do well, and I have to have a voice, and I have to have thoughts now.'"

In her youth, Smulders aspired to be a marine biologist. She took an interest in theatre throughout high school and briefly studied at the University of Victoria before returning to acting.

Smulders' first acting role was as a guest in the Showtime science-fiction series Jeremiah; she subsequently made multiple appearances on television, including a recurring role on The L Word. Her first role as a series regular was in the short-lived ABC series Veritas: The Quest, which ran for one season. After the cancellation of Veritas, Smulders was cast as television reporter Robin Scherbatsky on the CBS sitcom How I Met Your Mother in 2005. The show continued for nine seasons, winning 10 Emmy Awards. In June 2010, Smulders made her off-Broadway debut in Love, Loss, and What I Wore at the Westside Theatre.

Smulders played Maria Hill in the 2012 film The Avengers. She received training from a Los Angeles SWAT team trainer to handle guns to portray the character. Smulders has since reprised the role in three episodes of the television series Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and in the films Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015), Avengers: Infinity War (2018), Avengers: Endgame (2019), and Spider-Man: Far From Home (2019).

In 2013, Smulders had a supporting role in the romance film Safe Haven. She also starred in the comedy-drama Delivery Man and They Came Together. Smulders voiced a Lego version of Wonder Woman in the 2014 animated film The Lego Movie. It was the first time the Wonder Woman character had a theatrical film appearance. In July 2015, Smulders was reported to have exited the made-for-TV film Confirmation because she had broken her leg; Zoe Lister-Jones was then confirmed to replace her in the role of Harriet Grant.

In 2016, she appeared in the comedy-drama The Intervention and the action adventure film Jack Reacher: Never Go Back opposite Tom Cruise. In 2017, she played the recurring character "Mother" in the Netflix series A Series of Unfortunate Events. From 2017 to 2019, she starred in the Netflix original series, Friends from College, in the main role of Lisa Turner. She starred as Dexedrine "Dex" Parios, a PTSD-stricken military veteran turned private detective, in the ABC crime drama Stumptown, which premiered on September 25, 2019.

In 2022, she returned to the role of Robin Charles Scherbatsky for the first season finale of the HIMYM spinoff How I Met Your Father, which airs on Hulu, titled "Timing is Everything".

https://instagram.com/cobiesmulders?igshid=OGQ2MjdiOTE=

[pagets]

STUMPTOWN 1.07

“November Surprise”

[ohmyolicity]

Stumptown - 1x16 » All Quiet on the Dextern Front

Get my children then I will tell you what you need to know

[soft-persephone]

Fic Request Open!!!

I’m doing something new and taking fanfic requests for Nick Miller, and just about any and every Jake Johnson character. If he’s in it, I’ve probably seen it!

I don’t have any real rules or guidelines, but if anything is too crazy or it makes me uncomfortable. I’ll just dm you privately to discuss it!

[majorsamcarters]

[callthedetective]

Dex is actually like three disaster bis in a trench coat

[televisionpromos]

Stumptown 1x06 "Dex, Drugs and Rock & Roll" Promo - When Dex’s ex Fiona, a famous musician, comes into town for a performance, Dex must protect her from a stalker. Meanwhile, Grey continues to receive the cold shoulder from Dex, and Tookie and Lieutenant Cosgrove develop a new friendship on “Stumptown,” Wednesday, November 6th, on ABC. Episodes can also be viewed the next day on ABC.com, the ABC app and Hulu.

[marvel-medigeek-fics]

The Government Doesn’t Leave Typos

Dex is sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a crappy blanket, nose deep in the case files.

She hears something faint, but ignores it, figuring it’s just the wind. Wind must be really bad, because she hears it twice more. And then the door opens. The creaking is disctinct and Dex looks up to see Miles staring at her.

“My god, you scared me!” She says, reaching over for a tissue.

“You called me. Did you need something?” Mikes replies, the tissues tossed all over, not escaping his notice.

“Look at this. Weird, isn’t it?”

Miles sits next to her and peers at her computer screen. “What?”

“The... thingy. Don’t you see it?”

“No.”

“God, you are so blind sometimes. It’s right there!” She scoffs at him.

“Yeah, I have no clue what you are saying. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine. I don’t see how you can see this!”

“Then explain it.” Miles crosses his arms and looks at her pointedly.

“The...the...umm...”

“Are you okay? You look super pale.”

“I’m a white girl, of course I’m pale! No I know it! I’m not delirious and I can prove it! Look!” She points at a line of text with exactly one typo in it. “This obviously means someone has been hacking into government websites! The government doesn’t make typos. They hire people so they don’t do that.”

“Come on, Dex, people make mistakes. Hacking is not the only logical explaination for a typo.”

“In what world does the government make typos?” Dex presses.

Miles sighs, “I’ll make you a deal. If you let me take your temperature, I will look into this.”

“I don’t need you to play nurse. Cops don’t play nurse.” Dex huffs back, stubbornly refusing his deal.

“Your choice.” Miles stands and turns to leave.

“Fine! Play nurse and then just be a cop.”

“Fine, fine.” Miles says softly, already rummaging for a thermometer.

He finally finds one 5 minutes later, on the top shelf in the bathroom. “Under your tongue.”

As he leaves to room to get her a less crappy blanket and water, he swears he hears her say, “I liked you better under my tongue.”

She is definitely delirious, and Miles chuckles to himself. “It’s 98.6!” Dex yells from the couch.

“Are you screwing with me?”

“No...” Miles sees straight through her lie and plucks the thermometer from her mouth.

“102.3 is not 98.6 in any universe. Drink this.”

“It’s the middle of the day, Hoffman, and you’re trying to get me drunk?”

“It’s water.”

“Mhmm.” But she drinks half the bottle anyway. “Now about you doing your day job?”

“Day job?

“Yeah. Don’t play dumb.”

“I’m off the clock.”

“Miles!”

“I can break you another deal. You go to bed and I’ll will spend the time while you sleep to crack the typo hacking case of the century.”

“Very funny.”

“That’s my final offer. Oh, and take this.” Miles tosses the blanket at Dex’s legs.

“You drive a hard bargain.” Dex says, stifling a yawn.

“Comes with being a cop.” Miles shrugs.

Dex snorts and gets up from the couch, dragging one blanket from the floor and the other pulled tight around her shoulders. Miles smirks at her retreating form. She’s a stubborn one.

An hour later, and Miles making good on his promise with an email to the social media manager, he checks on Dex. She’s asleep, one leg under the blanket, face obscured by the pillow and arms splayed in opposite direction. Tissues are everywhere, just like they were in the living room before Miles cleaned them up.

After picking them up, Miles sits in the chair against the wall. He’s content to watch her sleep, because at his house it’s quiet. No snoring. And definitely no ancient rattling fan.

Sometime later, Dex wakes up and groans with pain. “Hi, Hoffman. How you been?”

“Better than you have.”

Dex laughs drily, before coughing a couple times. “How long have you been watching vigil for?”

“Not long.”

“Cops don’t sit vigil, Hoffman. Go back to your day job.”

“I’m off the clock.” Miles repeats.

“Good, then you can run the coffee maker. I have work to do.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sick.”

“I have never been sick in my life.”

“That is a lie.”

“You can ask Ansel.”

“I know he loves you, but he won’t lie for you.”

“You’re right. You can ask Grey. He would.”

“Not to me. We’re like best friends or something.”

“Right, right, totally.” Dex says, rubbing her temples.

“Go to sleep, Dex.”

“Good plan. I will do that right now.”