#Jonathan sims made me ace what do I do

[chuttlefish]

Need everyone to know that fanart of Jonathan Sims made me realize I was asexual. Not sure how to cope with this fact tbh.

[cryptiicism]

if I had to pick four characters to explain my character Jessica to others, these would be them :

• Lilith Clawthorne : a powerful witch whose highly respected, this is who Jessica is without any other inspection made about her character.

into the latter part of Lilith's season 2 arc is to let people in despite how she sees them. this is something Jessica has to later grapple with as well .

• Light Yagami : A young man who strives to be incredibly powerful even if it means using others to get to his goals, often disregarding them as less them. Jessica wrestles with this, rising to the top and often using people to improve upon her own skills while never seeing people as anything pther than "livestock". to her, they serve a purpose and they don't have any feelings against it or otherwise. despite this, both her and light are deeply beloved as well as respected by many.

• Marcille Donato : A young woman driven by her desire for companionship, and understanding within those around her, Marcille delves deep into her studies for answers to her desires, pushed by those who love her; Jessica suffers deeply from loneliness as she doesn't have anyone who is on her level so she strives higher to find someone who'll understand.

• Jonathan Sims : A man in an industry who works hard, latened by the tower of academia to do as he's told and whatever may be asked of him. Less than a dog, but nothing close to being an equal, I sentient tool to be put to go use. He desires that companionship and yet cannot stand those who desire the same, of him- because they aren't useful in the ways he will immediately see. Likewise Jessica strives to be equal to someone, and to be useful as that is what it means to be a achieved student... right? She however despises Edwurd as he brings nothing but delay in senseless pestering her like a dog. Demanding her attention or rather requesting it, but never achieving it because he's her jon, a tool in her project to get the gears going again. What she doesn't realize is that she's the true tool here, and like Jon- he has Martin, who Edwurd is to Jessica.

Ironically most if not all of these characters are autistic coded, and are aro/ace or aroace, with 2/4 wearing glasses.

Jessica is Aroace, and so is Edwurd, he just doesn't realize it. This is Jessica btw !!

Art is by the fabulous artists @sickhoondr & @poofmalyakaet respectively !!

Anyway please talk to me about my ocs!! if you want-

[morning-softness]

“Have you heard about the new restaurant that opened up a few streets over?” Tim asks. He leans back against the desk beside Jon’s–grateful that Clara’s already left for the day–and crosses one leg over the other, aiming for a suave and casual pose even though he’s sweating with nerves. “The Thai place? Nico says it’s really good, would make a nice place for a dinner date.”

Jon hums in response, barely glancing up from his laptop screen. “No, I can’t say I was aware of it.”

“I was thinking we could have dinner together there. Assuming that’s something you’re interested in, of course. What do you say? Would you like to go out with me?” Tim asks.

Jon looks up in surprise. “What, right now?”

[Image Description: A picture of Jonathan Sims and Tim Stoker from The Magnus Archives. Tim is leaning casually against a desk, holding a stainless steel water bottle, and grinning broadly at Jon who is sitting at an adjacent desk. Jon is turning to look at Tim, one arm still braced on his desk, and smiling back. Jon is depicted as a smaller fat man with medium brown skin and short, greying dark hair. He has gold-framed glasses, ears pierced with silver studs, and a black Ace ring on the middle finger of his right hand. Jon is wearing a white button-down shirt, a blue waistcoat with silver buttons, and trousers and a tie in a rusty-brown color. A blazer in the same rusty-brown color is draped over the back of his chair. Tim is depicted as a larger fat and muscular man with tan skin, curly greying brown hair in an undercut, a short beard, and visible body hair. He has gauged ears with black gauges, black-painted nails, and wears a fidget bracelet made of metal links around his left wrist. Tim is wearing a pair of brown trousers and a red polo shirt with the collar unbuttoned to display part of his chest. End ID.]

From Chapter 1 of “Why Don’t We Just Wait Together? (Or 5 Times Jon and Tim Didn’t Have a First Date, and One Time They Did),” my new Research-Era JonTim fic.

You can read the fic here!

I’ll be releasing a new chapter each week, followed by art, from now through Valentine’s Day.

[justanaromantic]

for the aro ask game, can you do question 18 or 9?

9: What is your favourite aro-spec identity flag?

i LOVE the cupioromantic flag, the colors are sooo pretty and I think it's so neat :]

18: Do you have any aro-spec headcanons?

not a whole lot tbh, however:

Jonathan Sims (tma) - he's a romance favorable aro-ace to me

Sasha James (tma) - I don't think it was ever actually made cannon that she's aro? but idc she is

Tim Stoker (tma) - listen it's not my fault all the archive team are aro ok? but he's cupio all the way around <3

Patton Sanders (tss) - my aro bestie <3 he just wants to be friends w everyone

Darryl Wilson (dndads) - in my mind he is either aro or greyromantic, but my mans is not allo

[a-mag-a-day]

The date is Friday, April 2nd, 2021. I have a small road trip to embark on, and I am a habitual listener of Podcasts in the car. As I sit in the CostCo gas line at the start of my journey I ponder what new delights are available to me to while away the long hours of tedium on the road. Then, as if guided by the hand of fate, I remember in a sudden flash of inspiration that none other than The Magnus Archives had just concluded but just over a week prior, and a dear friend of mine had recommended it to me for months. Just the thing! And now that it was over I had the luxury of being able to binge it all and know how it ends immediately! Without hesitation I queued up MAG 1 on my Spotify, and as I pulled out of CostCo and wended my way to the freeway with the first words of Angler Fish in Jonathan Sims' skeptical voice lilting eerily out of my speakers, little did I know my life was inexorably and ineffably changed forever.

The absolute chokehold this show had on my brain was IMMEDIATE. MAG 1 was just so brilliantly conceived, narrated, and delivered, I felt I had (Pardon the expression hehe) opened a door to another world and it was one I was thrilled to lose myself in. Not to mention how, once I started listening to more episodes and the connections started snapping into place, I realized what an anchor for such an intricate and deliberate story Angler Fish was, and what a PERFECT metaphor it was for how it had drawn me, the listener, in to it all as well. It opened my eyes to a new genre, a new way of storytelling, that I had never experienced, but was DEEPLY connected to and spellbound by!

But this post isn't just about me discovering a new show I adored! Not by a LONG shot! The Magnus Archives means, and will always mean, everything to me.

Because of this show I WROTE AGAIN. I WROTE!! I hadn't written in nearly 8 years and this show was so good I was finally inspired to dust off my keys and be CREATIVE again after a long and honestly very painful drought.

Because of this show I joined a FANDOM again, I joined a COMMUNITY again! I hopped into several Discord servers, made amazing friends, wrote fic for events and wrote requests and gifts, shared memes and jokes in a way I also hadn't been able to do in YEARS!

Because of this show and the fandom I met my incredible partner and connected with someone fell in love in a way I have never been in love before.

Because of this show I finally felt not only comfortable, but empowered to finally openly identify as ace.

Because of this show I feel more MYSELF than I think I ever have before!

I had no way of knowing that MAG 1 was not only the start of Jon's story, it was also the start of a new story for me, but I'm so INFINITELY grateful it was and for all the joy The Magnus Archives and everyone and everything around it has brought me! ♡〜٩(^▿^)۶〜♡

Oh my god that was lovely thank you so much for sharing 🥺🥺

[transmasc-wizard]

im thinking about getting into the magnus archives, so i was wondering if you could give like. idk what i should expect from it/a synopsis? /not forced

i am ltierally ALWAYS willing to talk about the magnus archiges

SO

the magnus archives is a fiction horror podcast written by jonny sims, about the Archivist, jonathan sims. no they are not supposed to be the same person, jonny is just shit at character naming. there's like 4 michaels alone (michael shelley / michael distortion / mikaele / mike). btw if i say "jonny" i am refering to the writer, if i say jon/jonathan i am refering to the character

so, Jon works for the Magnus Institute, London, an institution dedicated to documenting and investigating paranormal experiences. he used to work in the research department, but after the passing of the former Head Archivist (Gertrude), he found himself suddenly promoted to the archivist job. Now, he reads people's written "statements" (supernatural) so they have audio versions.

each episode contains one statement + jon's thoughts on it at the end. in this way, it is an anthology horror series; each episode has a sort of "monster of the week" that is its own disconnected and fully-fledged horror story. BUT!!! BUT!!! it is,,, connected. there is a Grander Plot. as it goes on, connections start to be made between the statements, with several developing plotlines and b-plots, and supernatural happenings even start to go on in the institute itself. it is REALLY thought out; my relisten has me finding tiny connected details in almost every episode.

TMA has to be listened to in order, from episode 1-200; i say that because i was told it doesn't and almost started with ep 187 (every day i mentally thank the person who told me NO NO START WITH #1 AND GO IN ORDER. every day). additionally, each episode, or "MAG", is about 20 minutes long, and TMA is split into five 40-episode seasons.

some various stuff: it's queer! jon is ace & bi and its not a big deal bc, you know, he's busy with The Horrors. several other characters are queer as well. speaking of characters, they're great; you get quite attached to both the main ones (Jon, Martin, Tim, Melanie, etc) and several side ones (Sasha, Gerry, Michael, Helen, etc).

a note: the TMA creators care a lot about being respectful to marginalized groups and when handling careful topics, but they fucked up sometimes. in particular, early "spiral statements" (stories abt lies, confusion, and the human mind) sometimes lean into the "ooh scary hallucinations" thing in season 1. as it goes on, it does get better (changing the focus to things such as "it's horrifying not to be believed about your struggle with mental illness"), but it is worth warning about, imo. (There's about... 2? i can think of? that specifically give me pause.)

a second note: TMA is very much horror, if it wasn't already obvious. It deals with things like cannibalism, insect infestation, heavy isolation, skinning, body horror, police brutality, spiders, paranoia, being watched/spied on/Known, etc. It is also a tragedy. With those two things in mind, please remember to take care of yourself, first and foremost, and take breaks/stop if you need to.

third bonus note: my pfp is gerry keay from tma and im love him <3 that is all

tma is really really really good, surprisingly emotional, full of creative horror and compelling stories, and has some AWESOME themes and storylines centering around monstrocity, what it means to be human, abuse of power, and what you can do in a system that fundamentally just wants to hurt you, and i 100% recommend it if you want to try it out!!

the-magnus-archives.fandom.com/wiki/Content_Warnings <- trigger & content warnings, broken up per episode

THE MAGNUS ARCHIVES #1 - Anglerfish - Horror Fiction Podcast - YouTube <- episode one!

have fun & stay spoooooooky :D

[ashdumpsterpile]

ASH’S TMA HURT/COMFORT/FLUFF REC LIST 

For the gays. (And @damcrows who’s been dead for the past 24 hours. Rest in peace babe. Read some gay fic. Deny the inevitability of canon. <3)

___

the end, but the start (of all things that are left to do)  by @ajkal2

Jon wakes up.

aka. mag200 tore out my heart

(Very smol, very short, very spoiler. Def recommend for anyone who just finished the podcast.)

remind me how to smile by @tamerofdarkstars

Jon is probably fine, just hiding out somewhere while the whole murder thing blows over and that's... fine. Martin is fine with that explanation. Really. He's got plenty to distract himself - like listening through the entire What the Ghost episode library, for example. Or watching Georgie Barker's Instagram livestreams.

(Yea this was in the last rec list, but you don’t understand THE ADMIRAL GIVES CUDDLES)

Chamomile by Dribbledscribbles

Whatever the ex-tea was, if it really had ever been that last bag of chamomile Martin claimed he’d found tucked in the back of the cupboard, it was fast now.

Martin had tried catching it, chasing it, blocking its way with shoebox lids and plates and an upended footstool, but the thing was just too quick. Jon knew as well as Knew that he might have left off the attempts completely if not for the creature’s preferred game.

The game was, See How Many Times I Can Push Martin Towards Cardiac Arrest Before He Comes at Me with The Broom.

(Scottish Honeymoon Era. Adorable and weird. A vampire gets harassed.)

hey stranger by @ennuijpg

It’s a late night Tesco run, how eventful could it be? It’s not like Martin is going to run into his boss who’s wearing something absurdly different from usual and get the most acute form of whiplash possible from seeing him, right?

(Martin runs into Jon at the grocery store and has an existential crisis.)

roses roses, roses. by @judesstfrancis

Rose scented laundry detergent. Running into Jon in the breakroom. Running into Jon on his way back to his desk. Rose scented detergent. Running into Jon. Roses. Jon. Roses, roses, roses. 

(Canon enemies to friends to lovers au-ish. Martin POV. Very pining much sweet.)

go softly by doomcountry

And there is nothing else besides this. 

(More hurt/comfort than fluff. Scottish Honeymoon Era. Mild eye mutilation.)

Not Alone by @backofthebookshelf

After the coffin, Daisy and Jon are both fragile. They hold each other up. 

(Post-buried Jon&Daisy starter pack. Very hurt/comfort.)

trust my love by antlsepticeye

“you… you’re real, aren’t you?” jon whispers, the fog slowly dissipating from his mind. “it is not a trick?”

“i’m here,” martin says softly, reaching up to grab jon’s hand that was resting on his cheek, intertwining his fingers with jon’s and squeezing. he moves jon’s hand to martin’s chest, resting it over his heart. “you’re alright. i’m alright. take your time, love. let’s just take some deep breaths, okay?”

(TOUCHSTARVED JON HAS ENTERED THE CHAT.)

reaching out by Athina_Blaine

By the time things settled, when Martin had finally managed to crack through his cold shell, feel some of his old self returning to him in bits and pieces, they had found their little routine.

One that had the two of them sleeping in the same bed, making breakfast, going to the mart. Where Jon reached for his wrist while they slept, and Martin luxuriated in the gentle warmth of his fingers.  

But not one where Martin reached back. One that had Martin kissing Jon awake or taking his hand over the breakfast table, because ... Martin never had the courage to try. And then it never became a part of the routine.

And Martin desperately wanted it to be.

-

Martin and Jon have an important conversation.

(More Scottish Honeymoon Era for the soul. Hurt/comfort/fluff.)

Belabor by @janekfan​

Jon's given the position of Archivist and is falling apart at the seams. Tim and Sasha are upset and playing games. Elias is overbearing and manipulative.

And poor Martin is stuck cleaning up the mess.

(THEE first fic I ever read for tma. Season 1, hurt/comfort/fluff, and hints of Jmartin. janekfan is the absolute master of seasons 1-3 hurt/comfort. This is my favorite, but pls check out the rest of their fics.)

tea, blankets, and a damnable stubborn attitude by ivelostmyspectacles

“Are you really gonna stay here and pester Jon all evening?”

“I’m not pestering him,” Martin retorted, sounding vehement if not busy going through the cupboards. “I’m heating up soup.”

“Oh, you might as well make him another cup of tea while you’re at it.”

“Oh, good idea.”

Jon shot Tim a withering look.

(The one where Jon is ill, Martin makes tea and they watch doctor who together. Fluff 1000%.)

A Kind Hand by @voiceless-terror

Jonathan Sims was adjusting just fine, thank you very much.

In which a minor workplace spill causes Jon to realize that he might have friends.

(Ah yes, the other master of seasons 1-3 fic aka voiceless-terror being my other fav author in the fandom. This one is also season 1 hurt/comfort/fluff.)

A Weather In The Flesh by @cuttoothed

"There is a span of years where Jon doesn’t touch anyone other than the occasional hand shake. It’s not so bad. He’s never been someone who’s needed physical affection."

*

Jon has never been any good at making people want to stick around.

(More touched starved Jon! Much hurt/comfort!)

Something Old, Something New by @cirrus-grey

Months have passed, and everyone is doing better than they were. Daisy and Basira are getting married, Melanie is feeling her old self, Georgie is as much herself as she has ever been, and even Jon has stabilized on his wild fall away from humanity. Everyone is doing better.

Well. Almost everyone.

(Daisy/Barsira wedding! Melanie is a bitch and we love her! Jmartin dance! Post-canon (almost) everyone lives!)

The Weight of Love by @voiceless-terror

Jon is a restless sleeper. Martin attempts to adjust. 

(The fic where Jon is literally me and Martin attempts to sleep for 1k words.)

The Art of Conversation by @voiceless-terror

"Do you ever stop talking?"

Jon has a complicated relationship with words. Difficulties come and go.

(Jon has adhd and Martin is in love.)

Novelty by @backofthebookshelf

Jon experiences A Sexual Attraction; Martin has A Concern. They figure it out.

(Any fic that explores the ace spectrum is a 10/10. We stan all ace interpretations of jon on this blog.)

Half a Hug by Dathen

I know you weren’t going to hurt me, I trust you, he said again and again. And then a different kind of fear shone through, hollow and echoing: “Please don’t stop touching me."

-

Or: Life is hard when you're touch-starved but have trauma related to your closest friend.  Spoilers through TMA 132.

(Honestly bless every author who saw jon&daisy and was like. They’re siblings. No I will not elaborate.)

the loneliness never left me (but i can put it down in the pleasure of your company) by Athina_Blaine

It was about Martin making Jon feel safe, treasured, and loved. And it had been so, so long since anyone made him feel that way.

And, in the face of it all, Jon was starting to flounder.

(At this point I just need to make separate rec list for Scottish Honeymoon Era.)

you can watch me corrode by scarletfish

"So, how long have you been pulling this shit then?"

"I… excuse me?" Jon’s indignant, certain she can’t mean what he thinks she means.

"When was the last time you ate?"

(Georgie decides Jon and Melanie need a normal day off. Jon learns that he and Melanie have more in common than he thought.)

(Look, Melanie isn’t my favorite person in tma, but she and Jon are like THE SAME PERSON and I adore fics that elaborate on their relationship.)

Out of the Wind, In From the Cold by @ostentenacity

There are two bedrooms in the safehouse, and two beds.

For a moment, Jon considers asking to share, but decides against it with a wince. “I really loved you,” Martin had told him. Loved. Past tense. And Martin doesn’t exactly have a lot of choices right now in terms of company; it would be cruel to demand he play at feelings he no longer has just to make Jon happy.

(For a moment, Martin considers asking to share. But he dismisses the idea with a shake of his head. Jon has already done so much for him. Martin isn’t about to ask for more, especially not when it’s something he doesn’t really need. He has his right mind back, and he has Jon’s friendship. That should be enough for him. It’ll have to be.)

---

Jon thinks that Martin doesn’t love him. Martin thinks that Jon doesn’t love him. They do not, of course, discuss this. Unrequited love is already awkward enough, right? No need to dwell on it.

(THEE SCOTTISH HONEYMOON ERA FIC. IT’S ABOUT THE PINING, BEING MUTUALLY OBLIVIOUS AND FALLING IN LOVE. 10000/10.) 

I Do by @voiceless-terror

“I, um- this was supposed to be a lot more romantic, I swear.” Martin looks down at the dirty bar floor. “I had it all planned out, I-I was going to take you somewhere nice, and then we’d go for a walk in the square- I’ll still do it!” He hurries to explain, as if that’s the most pressing part of this situation. “It’ll be really nice, I’ve already hired a photographer-”

In a fit of protectiveness, Martin proposes to Jon.

(Everyone lives, Martin accidentally proposes and Jon is crying in public.) 

________

[thatrandombystander]

ok what the hell is tma about. im a wtnv only hoe

A workplace comedy from a certain point of view

The Magnus Archives is a horror/kinda mystery anthology podcast starring canon ace king Jonathan "Jon" Sims*, newly appointed Head Archivist of The Magnus Institute, an organisation that researches the supernatural.

Starts with Jon trying to sort through a bunch of random statements in The Archives (while persistently pretending that none of the statements actually happened), but then it turns out the statements are actually all connected and there's a much bigger picture (which then had me restart the show to take notes and go "This person offhandedly mentioned someone with the same name as a character from a couple dozen episodes ago.... what does it mean....")

Also featuring:

A very compassionate and thoughtfully told horror story that honestly reversed my long-time stance of "I don't like horror"

(Doesn't use sexual violence, doesn't demonise any ethnic/racial group, doesn't draw horror from disabled bodies (there is still body horror but it's definitely monstrous), and if a pet is introduced it will not be killed for shock or anything so don't worry about any cats dying (but still some animal death I think)

Excellent sound design/sound scaping work

Dysfunctional cast of characters that i love dearly, including mine and the fandom's beautiful goth son (who barely appears in the show 😢)

An episode about a bunch of murders that opens with "Okay, I know how it sounds, but Murder Club wasn’t supposed to be like this"

Some episodes can be pretty unsettling, but there are transcripts with trigger warnings available for every episode

Made by what seems to be a really cool and inclusive podcast company. I'd like to support them on Patreon when I get some more stable income

*Not to be confused with Jonathan "Jonny" Sims, writer of TMA who didn't think things through and named the protagonist after himself (who he is also the voice actor for). A decision I find as funny as I do baffling. Jonny has also written two horror novels, runs a ttrpg games company with his spouse, used to be in a pretty decent steampunk? space pirate? themed band, and has a tumblr account where he occasionally shares shitposts? I am baffled, impressed, and envious of this man in equal amounts.

[seachanqe]

No right way

JonGeorgie, set during uni, pre-relationship(ish), rated G, 1130 words

For @aspecarchivesweek, with ace (kiss-averse) Jon and aro Georgie

Inspired by a prompt by the lovely @hundred-separate-lines, who asked for “kiss neutral-to-averse Jon feeling like he won’t be able to have a real relationship if he can’t make himself kiss someone, and then a non-kiss-averse partner being cool with it”. I almost always write JonMartin, and since you seemed open to other ships, I decided to try my hand at JonGeorgie. Hope that’s okay! Thank you so so much for the prompt and your kind words. :)

________

Jon was doing his best trying to keep up with Georgie. The band had just finished the last song of the night, and the large crowd of people were milling about, slowly making their way out of the venue. 

Georgie, as Jon was finding out, was an expert at moving through a crowd. She twisted around people stepping in front of her and slipped past those ahead who were walking too slow, all the while tugging Jon along. It had become swelteringly hot stuck in the middle of the crowd, so he was all too happy when they broke free of the pack to reach outside. The crisp air nipped at Jon, and he watched as his sigh of relief crystalized in front of him.

Georgie turned to face him, still holding his hand. The overlapping voices of everyone around them was distracting, but Jon tried to focus on Georgie instead. She was smiling so wide her eyes crinkled, and there was a flush to her cheeks. 

"Band was decent," Georgie said, a little too loud, Jon supposed from not only having to talk over the crowd, but also the muffled ringing in their ears from being a little too close to the speakers.

"I'm just not a fan of--" Jon gestured to his ears. "I forget how long it takes to wear off, but did you know that this is actually tinnitus? The loud music actually damaged the hair cells in our ears. These sorts of concerts are approximately 115 decibels, and it only takes prolonged exposure of 85 decibels or greater to cause hearing loss…"

"I was pleasantly surprised," Jon said as dryly as he could with his voice raised.

Georgie barked out a laugh, before punching him lightly on the arm. "I told you you'd like them!"

"Jonathan Sims, are you trying to scare me off from future concerts?" Georgie's face pinched in an exaggerated grumpy face. She pulled Jon a little closer to her, Jon assumed so they could hear each other better. 

Jon laughed. "No, of course not. I think it would take quite a few concerts to really have any effect. It's interesting though. Apparently damage to the hair cells in our ears causes our brains to misinterpret the signal it receives, so our brains make up a sound instead! That's the ringing we're hearing right now."

"It's too bad our brains couldn't have made up a more interesting sound."

As Jon started to consider this, Georgie reached up to cup his cheek, and Jon immediately froze at her touch, eyes wide. 

"You're so cute when you share this stuff," Georgie said fondly, with a soft smile, leaning up on her tiptoes, her eyes dropping to his lips, clearly about to give Jon a kiss. 

A jolt of panic, his heart sped up, and he quickly pulled back. "Georgie, I--" 

Georgie didn't look hurt, Jon thought, thank god. She actually looked worried, her head tilted slightly in confusion. 

Jon bit his lip. Well. This was it. "Georgie, sorry, I don't-- um. I can't--"

Georgie's brow furrowed as she tried to parse what was going on. "No, no, this was my bad, I never actually called this a date anyway, I never asked if you were interested--"

"But--Georgie," Jon interjected in a panic. "I am interested in dating. Dating you. I like you, Georgie, I do. I just." Jon internally cringed. It felt like a death blow. And he hadn't even mentioned his asexuality yet. "Don't-like-kissing," Jon said in a rush. "It's uncomfortable? I actually haven't tried it, but any time I see characters on screen making out---it looks…" Jon bit his lip. "Gross? I don't want to try it, it's not for me, sorry," Jon said with finality, trying to project more confidence than he felt.

When Georgie didn't say anything for a moment, Jon decided it would be best to say his good-byes and leave her an easy out to get back home, not have to worry about mistakenly dating him anymore. He was already mourning how such a lovely evening had been wrecked so quickly. Jon ran a hand through his hair as he sighed. "I had a fun time tonight, really. I'm-- I'm sorry if it looked like I led you on or anything. And I understand if you're not interested in me anymore if--"

Georgie pulled a face. "Don't be silly, Jon."

"I-- what?" 

"That's a completely valid boundary to set, Jon, I get it--" Jon started to respond but Georgie held up a hand. "Really, I do. Or I think I do. And if we're being honest with each other, before we date, if we decide to date-- I'm aro."

"Oh," Jon responded eloquently as he tried to process this. "I'm sort of like that? But. Uh. Not like that exactly. We can, uh, talk about it later?" Jon suggested, glancing around at the people loitering nearby, self-consciously rubbing the back of his neck.

Georgie laughed, not unkindly. "Of course Jon. I--honestly, I was starting to guess that." Georgie held out her hand, and Jon took it, and she squeezed reassuringly. "Listen, if you want, we can try this, whatever this turns out to be. See what happens. I don't like romantic stuff, but I like hanging out with you. Kissing can be fun, but I don't need it. You're fun, interesting. Cute. Good concert buddy. I'd like to try something out, if you still want to. What do you say?"

"You're... really okay with the no kissing?" Jon asked incredulously, his mind still solidly hung up in disbelief. 

Georgie rolled her eyes with a huff. "Yes, Jon. Like I said, I'm interested in this for you. We had fun tonight, didn't we?"

"Yes, yes, Georgie. Fine." Jon let out a sigh, throwing up his hands. "We should probably head to The White Horse if we still want to grab something to eat, we can talk more there about this?"

"Perfect! I'm starving." Georgie beamed, before turning thoughtful.

"Georgie, what is it?" Jon asked suspiciously.

"Thinking about what we could do instead of kissing. Squeeze your hand? Big hug? Gotta show my affection somehow."

It was a wonderful, cozy sort of feeling, one that was almost alien to Jon, that someone would try to thoughtfully look for alternatives, instead of rejecting him for it or trying their best to ignore it. "I, uh, both would work," he stammered. "I don't mind a cheek kiss… I-- I think. We could try it out at least."

"Don't worry, I'll warn you next time," she said a little sheepishly with a slight grin, before holding out her arms. Jon let himself be folded into a hug; Georgie was warm against the cool evening air, her hands solid and steadying against his back.

[cuttoothed]

Written for @aspecmartinweek, for the prompt “First”, for which I am overwhelmingly late. Featuring sex neutral ace Martin, sex averse ace Jon, brief discussion of sexual boundaries. and every first date cliché I could think to cram in. 

*

Jon brings him flowers, on their first official date. They meet at a little park not far from the Institute, and Martin’s been waiting there almost ten minutes when Jon appears, walking hurriedly towards him with one arm tucked oddly behind his back. 

“About time,” Martin is about to say, when Jon’s hand sweeps forward, and the words are lost in his throat. 

The flowers are bold white daisies, their heads nodding gracefully, with sprays of small yellow blossoms peeking out in between. Jon presents it to him with near schoolboy awkwardness, his cheeks red and scarcely able to meet Martin’s eyes. 

“They reminded me of you,” he says, obstinately, as if daring Martin to deny it. 

Martin doesn’t know what to say. Nobody’s ever brought him flowers before. In fact, he’s not sure he’s ever had flowers. There are a few succulents in his flat, and an aspidistra that he bought ironically during his Orwell phase and has been stubbornly keeping alive since, but he’s never had the knack for blooming plants. And he’s always been too embarrassed to buy cut flowers, as if the salesperson might know he was buying them for himself and judge him accordingly.  

There’s something charming and old fashioned and utterly Jon about the gesture, and Martin scolds himself as he feels tears start to sting his eyes. 

“What are they?” he asks as a distraction, lifting them to his nose. The blooms smell sweet, like honey, with an earthy hint.   

“Oxeye daisies,” says Jon, “And goldenrod. I—you don’t mind, do you? I know it’s a bit of a cliché. We can get rid of them—”

“No!” Martin is surprised by his own vehemence. “No, they’re lovely. Thank you. At least now I know why you didn’t want to leave work together—I thought you were trying to keep it off the Institute gossip vine.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Jon frowns, genuinely confused, and a tender warmth swells in Martin’s chest.  

*

Jon’s made reservations at an Italian restaurant. Once they’re seated, Martin places the flowers carefully down by his feet, and looks around. The place is cozy and intimate, the tables set with candles, warm lamplight and low music. 

“This place is nice,” he says, picking up a menu. “Have you been here before?”

“Oh, no,” says Jon. “But I’ve walked past it plenty of times, and I always thought it seemed like a date sort of place?”   

It is, Martin supposes. Most of the tables are two-person, and most of the other patrons appear to be couples, leaning close to each other in the candlelight, laughing and drinking wine. It’s all very traditionally romantic, and Martin is suddenly extremely aware that he and Jon are on a date. He feels a bit foolish, because of course he knew, but until now it’s been easy to think of it as just...him and Jon. Walking somewhere to eat, like they do for lunch a couple of times a week, talking about unimportant things. 

This isn’t that, though. This is flowers and a candlelit dinner, and all of this with Jon, and Martin has no idea what to do. He’s never been any good at dating. Relationships, sure—for a certain value of good—but the bit at the start, where you talk about interests and share details of your lives and gauge if this is a person you want to actually know better? Not his strong suit. Martin never knows how much to share, and when, and whether the first date is the right time to have the “so...about the whole ‘sex’ thing” talk or if he should wait for the third, and— 

“Everything all right?” Jon asks. 

“Yes, fine! Why?”

“You just looked a bit...wild eyed there. Like you’d seen a ghost.” 

“I thought you didn’t believe in ghosts?”

“It depends what you mean by a ghost,” says Jon, his brow furrowing seriously, and then he’s off explaining theories of psychic trauma manifestations in specific locations, which is entirely different from the concept of an actual human soul lingering in the world, his hands cutting the air to illustrate his point, and it’s just them again, and honestly Martin could listen to Jon talk like this all day. 

It’s lovely, after that. The food is tasty, and the glass of wine Martin drinks softens away any lingering nervousness, and Jon looks extraordinarily good by candlelight, the shadows sketching his cheekbones and jaw, the light sparking in the depths of his brown eyes. The only thing that Martin takes exception to is when Jon tries to pay for the entire meal. 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Martin tells him, “We’ll split it.”

“I invited you, so I pay,” Jon persists. “You can pay next time.” 

In the end he gets his way, because Jonathan Sims is possibly the most stubborn human being Martin has ever met, but Martin wins the concession that he will buy ice cream afterwards. He takes them to the little ice cream shop a few streets from the Institute, and Jon looks flustered and pleased when Martin, feeling bold, places the order for both of them. 

“I can’t believe you remembered,” he says softly. His hand touches Martin’s as he takes his cup of rum and raisin, lingering for just an instant, and Martin feels his face go hot. 

“Of course I did.”

*

They walk along the Embankment as they eat their ice cream. The sun is beginning to set, the street lights flickering on, casting bright shards across the surface of the river, and Martin realizes it’s been over three hours since they met in the park. It feels it’s been no time at all, talking easily, sharing little pieces of themselves back and forth. It feels like Martin could stay like this forever.

He stops to toss his empty ice cream cup in the bin, the flowers tucked into the crook of his arm, and when he turns back, Jon is looking at him oddly. The way he looks at a document that he can’t quite figure out, intent and curious. 

“What?” he says.

“Could I kiss you?”

“Oh,” says Martin intelligently. “Yes, please?” 

Jon huffs a surprised laugh, and then he takes a step closer, his hand pressing to Martin’s cheek. His eyes are dark and depthless in the twilight. His lips brush against Martin’s, dry and soft and still tasting of sweet rum flavor. When he pulls back, Martin tries to remember how to breathe, Jon’s palm still warm against his skin.

“Was that—”

“Yeah,” Martin says before Jon can even finish. “That was good.” 

*

They get on the Tube together, since they’re in the same direction for a while. It’s busy, so they stand gripping the handrails, close together in the press of people. Martin holds his flowers against his chest, doing his best to protect them from jostling bodies. There are a lot of things Martin wants to say, things he wants to whisper in Jon’s ear or tell him while looking deep into his eyes, but this isn’t the right place, so he holds them against his chest as well.

The intercom scratchily announces the next station, and Jon clears his throat.

“Well, this is me,” he says. “I’ll...see you tomorrow?”

His voice is quiet and hopeful, as he starts to shuffle towards the door, and that warm feeling is filling up all the space behind Martin’s rib cage. He doesn’t want this to end yet.

“Hang on,” he says, as the train slows to a halt. He moves towards the exit as well, ignoring Jon’s startled glance, and when the doors slide open, he steps off onto the platform. “Coming?”

The doors shut behind them and the train glides away. They stand there for a few moments, while the other disembarking passengers disperse, and then Jon says:

“What are you doing?” 

“I’d like to walk you home,” says Martin. “You’re not far from here, right?” 

“But this isn’t your stop.”

Martin shrugs. “It’s not that much out of the way. And I want to. After you bought dinner, and brought me these,” he lifts his slightly battered flowers. “Maybe I get to do the cliché thing for this part of the date? If it’s okay with you?” 

Jon huffs a breath, and the look he gives Martin is halfway between defensive and apologetic. Martin knows that look, the “this was nice, but…” look, and god, he can’t have been so wrong about all this, can he? 

“I...this has been a—a lovely evening, Martin,” says Jon. “Truly. But I—I don’t want to give you the wrong impression, so I have to tell you now that I...don’t do the, ahh, the sexual aspects of a relationship. I’m sorry, I should have been upfront about this sooner—” 

“I know that,” Martin says. 

“Sorry?”

“I know, Jon. Or, well, not know, but there was some...office gossip?”

“Oh.” 

“Sorry, I should have probably said something earlier. I, umm, I don’t either? Not much, at least. I mean I can, if it’s important to the person I’m with? I don’t mind sex. But I’d just as soon not. So, yeah.”

“Oh,” says Jon again. He looks stunned. Martin gives him what he hopes is an encouraging smile.

“I really do just want to walk you home, I promise.”

“R-right. I see.” Jon still looks a little stupefied, but relieved along with it, the tension in his jaw relaxing. “In that case...thank you, Martin. I’d like that.”

*

They walk the quiet suburban streets towards Jon’s flat, meeting no one but a startled looking fox that bolts into the bushes. They don’t talk for a while, but it’s a comfortable silence. At some point, Martin feels Jon’s hand brush against his, and Jon’s fingers tangle with his own. He looks across, and Jon is smiling shyly at him. That warm feeling inside his chest surges, fizzing up and over and spilling out as a laugh of pure joy. 

“I can’t believe you thought I was planning to seduce you,” he says. “As if I’m anywhere near suave enough for that!”

“I happen to think you’re very charming,” says Jon with mock affront, frowning, while a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. “I’m sure you could seduce someone if you put your mind to it.”

“I’ll keep that one in my back pocket, then, just in case I ever have to become an international man of mystery.”

“Good idea,” Jon says solemnly, twining his fingers further with Martin’s. 

At last they reach a three storey house with a little patch of garden in the front, and buzzers at the door for the different flats. 

“This is actually me,” says Jon. “Unless...you’d like to come in for a cup of tea?”

“Isn’t coffee the proper convention here?” Martin asks, and Jon laughs.

“Traditionally I don’t think the beverage is the point,” he says, “But if you fancy an actual cup of tea…?” 

“That sounds lovely,” says Martin. It sounds more than lovely, if it lets him spend more time with Jon; it sounds like the best idea in the world. 

Their hands are still clasped together as they walk to the front door, and Martin pauses, tugs on Jon’s hand to stop him too. 

“All right?” Jon asks with a tiny frown. 

“Just one more first date cliché I think we should respect,” he replies seriously. “The kiss on the doorstep.” 

He leans in, and Jon moves to meet him, and it’s just as soft and heart pounding as their first kiss on the riverbank. Jon gives him a little smile when they part.

“You know, the kiss on the doorstep usually signifies the end of the date,” he says, unlocking the door. “But in this case, I think we can break the tradition.”

“Sounds good to me,” Martin laughs, and follows him inside for tea.

[banashee]

It's midnight where I am, which means it's technically the 21st already 😁 Hi Folks, welcome to my fourth fic for the Archival Pride 2021 project! Look at their tumblr for more info :)

@archivalpride

   Archival Pride 2021, Week four (June 21-28) Prompts: comfort, childhood, research, missing scene, statement

   The key words I've used here are comfort, research (and arguably missing scene depending how you look at it)

So, this wasn't supposed to get nearly as long as it ended up being. But I enjoyed wirting this a ridiculous amount, and I hope you can find a bit of joy, comfort or anything else you're seeking as well.

-

Please mind the tags and content warnings for this one! It’s quite a bit heavier than my other entries for the Archival Pride 2021.

Content warnings: - Trauma, Grief - PTSD / Panic attacks - violent canon death of a sibling - coping - Nightmares - Canon-typical violence - Canon-typical Clowns / The Stranger - Death of a loved one - Canon-typical violence and thoughts of violence - Past underage kissing between consenting teenagers (nothing graphic and very PG) - breif internalized Bi-Phobia in the past - brief mention of past Ace-Phobia - strong language - TMA season 3 spoilers, even though this story is set pre-canon.

-

 Whispers in the Dark

 The first time Tim meets Jonathan Sims is when he sets down a small cardboard box and a stack of files onto a desk. More precisely, his own new place at the desk he just got assigned.

 Tim just started out with his new job and he smiles, even though he is barely holding himself together at this point. He hopes no one will ask too many questions - it’s not like he plans on telling anyone what made him seek out the institute in the first place. It’s way too personal, and way too much to handle.

 So he’d lied in the job interview, spun some story about wanting a new challenge. Mr. Bouchard didn’t question it, and Tim would like to think that is because his CV and education are rather high quality, which he isn’t shy about. Not at all - he is proud of his achievements, and rightfully so. But Tim can’t shake the feeling that his new employer had looked at him oddly, like he knows something that no one else does. It had been deeply unsettling, and if Tim thinks too much about it, it causes the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up straight.

 Despite his gut feeling telling him something else, Tim decides to chalk it up to nerves and his… Current situation, so to say. He is more jumpy, more paranoid than he used to be, which isn’t surprising. He has seen things, lived through things that he wouldn’t know how to explain if anyone asked. But overthinking it won’t get him anywhere.

 So, he puts on a bit of the show, something that looks like his usual happy-go-lucky personality. Loud, brash, flirty and wicked smart, just like he always has been. It feels incredibly fake to him, but then again, no one here knows him. No one has ever met him before… Before. They don’t know.      They don’t know    . None of them ever sees him when the mask falls, home alone, in a house that feels too big and too empty with Dany gone and - no.

     “Don’t go there, Stoker, just don’t. Get through the day, see what you can find out and go home. Get back tomorrow, rinse and repeat. You can do this.”     he tells himself and plasters on a smile that almost hurts.

 As he sets down the box and his files, he greets his new coworker and desk-neighbor.

 “Hi, I’m Tim, nice to meet you!” (      “be happy, sound happy, god dammit”     he thinks, then reminds himself that this guy won’t know the difference.)

 The man on the desk opposite of him looks up from his computer which he’d previously looked at with intense concentration. It seems to take him a moment to catch up, then he nods and there is the hint of a very small smile on his face.

 “Oh, erm, hi. Welcome.” he says, like someone who isn’t used to interacting with too many people. And maybe he isn’t - Tim wouldn’t know. He almost moves on and accepts that he won’t get a name from his new desk neighbor, but then he hears him say,

 “Jonathan. Jon is fine, too.”

 And then, as if he never said anything, he focuses back onto the screen in front of him and starts typing furiously.

 “Thanks!” Tim says, probably just a tad too loud and too enthusiastically, but he doesn’t get a response this time. Okay, awkward. He isn’t sure if Jon is ignoring him or if he just doesn’t realize that he is being talked to - judging from the very brief, first impression of him that Tim got, both options might be entirely possible.

 As the days go by, they don’t interact a lot besides basic politeness and the occasional question or comment about something work related.

 The first time Tim ever really talks to Jon, is when he witnesses the man climb a bookshelf in the library like a fucking tree. No kidding. Tim blinks, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a real, genuine laugh bubble up in his chest. What the hell? He steps closer, next to the large, antique bookshelf that his coworker is currently clinging to, pulling books from a shelf that is over his head still.

 “Jon, hi.” Tim says, watching the scene in front of him unfold. This is not something he expected, least of all from the coworker who never seems to say or do anything mildly interesting. So much for the first impression - the second impression is something entirely different, and it is this very moment that Tim decides that he likes the guy.

 The sound of Tim’s voice addressing him directly makes Jon turn his head.

 “Hi. Can I help you?” he asks, brusk and matter of fact, as if there wasn’t anything odd about this situation.

 “...I was going to ask you the same?” Tim offers, mildly amused as he finds himself kind of impressed when Jon manages to shrug with his hands full like that. While clinging to the shelf, because what even?

 “No. Why? I’ve already got what I need.” Jon jumps down from the wooden board he’d been standing on, and it is only now that Tim realizes they’d been on eye level before. Now… Not so much. They never stood next to each other up until this moment, he realizes.

 He’s only been here for about a week, but whenever Tim arrives at the office, Jon is already there, at his desk and working. He never gets up for lunch, only ever seems to leave the room to pick up or drop off books from the library, and by the time everyone else has left, Jon remains seated at his desk. If he wasn’t changing out his clothes, Tim would have been convinced that Jonatahn Sims simply plugs himself into a wall socket to recharge for the next day. Or maybe sleeps under his desk or something.

 “Just… You know what, nevermind.” Tim has come to the very correct conclusion that he better just accept this as it is. It seems easier. Much, much easier than arguing with someone over nothing, even though Tim feels like punching a wall or two some days. But that is not his coworkers fault, and he doesn’t want to mess up the chance to get to know him because he is cute.

 Tim doesn’t even question this train of thought anymore.

 At some point in between meeting the man for the very first time and… well, this, he must have filed away the odd combination of grandfather cardigans, chipped dark nailpolish and neatly tied up hair, combined with that deep warm voice and decided that yes, this person is attractive.

 To be fair, it doesn’t take Tim long to fall for people - it never has. He just didn’t expect to spend any time really      looking     at someone, now that his life has gone sideways in so many horrible ways.

 Turns out he’d been wrong.

 Finding something attractive about a person, no matter their gender or any physical attributes, is the easiest thing in the world to Tim. Ever since he can remember, he has enjoyed looking at people. Tim likes soft curves just as well as sharp angles, and has spent many many hours of his life getting lost in people's eyes. Sometimes, he’d caught himself staring when talking to a friend, losing himself in the depth of warm brown eyes with specks of gold, watery blue, light grey or green with specs of hazel and anything in between.

 Tim vividly remembers a game of spin the bottle when he was a teenager and sat on the floor with a group of friends and classmates. Of course, there had been many dares to kiss someone, and he had happily taken them whenever possible.

 At the time, Tim wasn’t sure about himself at all, because he’d only known that he finds people attractive, but all everyone around him had talked about was if you were gay or straight, if the question was even asked. Mostly, they just assumed whatever seemed convenient at the time.

 No one tells Tim about the meaning of the word “Bisexual”, or even about the word itself until he is in college. But he knows how he feels, even though he is lacking the word for it for many years

 Once he finds out, Danny is the first person he tells about it. Tim calls him that same night, sitting in a quiet corner of the dorm as he excitedly tells his little brother that he found a word to relate to himself and his feelings for other people.

 “There are other people who feel that way, Danny. There is nothing wrong with me and there is a word for it!” he tells him in a hushed but excited voice, fumbling on a loose thread in a hole of his jeans. Those trousers have long been frayed into shreds but Tim refuses to part with them.

 His voice is shaking with excitement, and he may or may not be holding back happy tears. This is a big moment for him, and because Danny is literally the best - not just because he answered his phone at fuck-o-clock in the morning when his brother called - he reacts with nothing but support.

 “I might have a few questions, but I love you. No matter what. I’m happy for you.” he tells him, and in that moment, Tim couldn’t be happier or prouder of his younger brother.

 The game of spin the bottle a few years earlier was the one of the first things that taught Tim that he finds many many things to be interested in and attracted to. It taught him that he is attracted to the many different ways people feel, and it hasn’t changed ever since.

 Over the years, Tim finds himself falling in love quick and hard with a number of people, and none of them are ever the same. Each and every person is unique, in their looks and size and voice and feelings - and every single one is loveable just as they are.

     “You        do         have a thing for certain types of voices though.”    Tim thinks, and maybe that is the culprit here, now that he is standing in the library of the Magnus Institute and faced with Jonathan Sims, who looks up at him with one raised eyebrow. Oh shit, has he been staring the entire time?

 Before Tim can think too much about it, or god forbid, overthink it, he hears his mouth blurt out without his brains permission,

 “So do you want to come to lunch later? There is a café not far from here that I’ve never been to.”

 Jon stares back for a moment, like this isn’t something he expected. Truth be told, he didn’t. But just when Tim starts thinking that he’ll decline, Jon nods slowly.

 “Yes, I suppose. Just… Let me know before you’re going. I tend to, well, I tend to get lost a bit when I’m working and chances are I won’t notice how much time has passed.” he explains, and this is probably the first time he said anything personal besides his name.

 “Sure, no problem. I’ll just put a giant sticky note on your monitor.” Tim offers him with a grin and wink, and as he turns around, he could swear that he catches a real smile on Jon’s face.

 Tim actually does put a note on Jon’s screen though. As he was warned, all attempts to verbally get his attention have failed, so Tim scribbles a quick note for Jon.

 The sticky piece of paper is bright pink and obnoxious, and all that Tim has written on it is “Lunch time!” in big bold letters, accompanied by a smiley face. He manages to walk up behind Jon, stick it right in the middle of his computer monitor and get back around to his own desk to gather his jacket and wallet before Jon squints at it through slim, rectangular glasses and blinks a few times before he remembers the conversation from earlier. Then, there is a small hint of a smile on his face, very similar to the one Tim caught in the library earlier.

 He gathers his things and leaves the office with Tim, and the two of them walk next to each other comfortably as they make their way to the café.

 Surprisingly, the lunch break together isn’t nearly as awkward as it could be, or should have been, really. Jon doesn’t talk much at first, and Tim has a feeling he himself is talking way too much without actually saying anything, just so his brain doesn’t drift off into the wrong direction. But then, it’s like the air has left his lungs and there is a minute or two of slightly awkward silence.

 Then, Jon clears his throat and asks,

 “So, did you know that snails can sleep for three years at a time?”

 When Tim, surprised by the question, shakes his head, Jon starts talking about the topic in great detail as he fiddles with the edge of his napkin the whole time. Somehow, this of all things breaks the ice, and Tim finds himself to be able to breathe a little bit easier.

 Even more so, he is enjoying this. He isn’t sure what he expected when he asked Jon to join him for lunch. Maybe it was just the urge for human interaction and to not be alone, which he supposes is fair enough. But he certainly didn’t expect random information about nature phenomenons. All Tim knows is that he feels better after their first break together, and after that, spending the break together becomes A Thing.

 What he learns pretty fast is this: Jon is an info dumper when he feels comfortable enough to do so. As it turns out, Jon isn’t very picky with his topics, either. They range from science phenomena to weird, interesting nature facts and anything else that catches his interest.

 Tim also learns that, if he is in the right company and being asked the right questions, he can hold monologues that could last for hours. He figures that one out when Jon drops a fun fact about 19th century architecture, and without thinking, picks up the loose end of the sentence and continues,

 “Oh, yes, did you know that…” and thus, without even realizing it, Tim spends the entire lunch break talking about it - he is passionate about the topic, but he leaves out the details about the Covent Garden Theatre. It just hurts too much to think about, but other than that, Tim is excited about the topic. He gets so carried away and rambles on and on and on, he only stops when Jon and him get back to the institute. It takes even longer for Tim to catch up and realize that Jon just paid for both lunches while he went off on a monologue about Robert Smirke architecture. But when he tries to pay him back, Jon just waves him off.

 “Don’t worry about it. Besides, your lecture was very interesting, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

 From anyone else, this might have been a dig - but coming from Jon, Tim knows by now, it is a genuine statement that makes him way happier than it should.

 So, their lunch breaks together quickly turn into a tradition,

 Tim isn’t entirely sure what is more surprising; the fact that he manages to get Jon to actually leave his desk for human needs like food and social interaction, or that the two of them are enjoying it so much.

 Sometimes, they go to cafés or restaurants, trying out places that neither of them has been to before. It turns into them picking favourites, and then they become regulars at a small handful of places. Sometimes they simply go on a quick walk to pick up some food, other times they sit down and enjoy being out of the office for a little bit.

  One day, Tim arrives in the office early, and he brings lunch from home for Jon and himself for the first time.

 Tim has spent the previous night wide awake, unable to rest after a nightmare startled him out of a deep sleep. It takes a long time to get his breathing back under control, and very late at night, or very early in the morning, depending how you look at it, Tim gives up on sleep. After hours of useless tossing and turning, he won’t be able to rest, he knows from experience.

 Cursing under his breath, he pulls aside the covers and takes a few deep, shuddering breaths. Exhausted, both in a physical and emotional sense, he scrubs a hand over his face.

 The memories linger, and Tim feels like his whole chest is pulled together with anxiety and grief. Seven months. That’s how long it has been since he found Danny sitting in his dark living room in the middle of the night, crying silent tears as he had no idea what to do besides be there for him and offer comfort. Seven months since he followed his younger brother to the Royal Opera House Covent Garden and had to watch him being torn apart.

 Carefully, Tim forces himself to keep breathing as evenly as possible. In - hold - out - hold - in - rinse and repeat. His hands are shaking, and he tries to force them into stillness as he grips hard at the rumpled bed sheets.

 Attempting to go back to sleep is useless, he knows from experience, and so he makes his way down into the kitchen.

 This house feels too big, too empty without the presence of his little brother. He left a hole in his life, and even though it’s been months since Danny died, Tim hasn’t moved a single one of his possessions. Not yet - it hurts too much.

 Despite having been alone for a while now, Tim is still careful to leave the lights  out in the hallway, walking as quietly as he can in the middle of the night as if there was still someone around he could wake up with his movements. It’s a long standing habit, and he isn’t sure he’ll ever shake it off.

 It’s only when he arrives in the kitchen that Tim switches on the overhead light. It flickers to life, slowly, and the small kitchen is tinted into a warm light. Warm and homely, like this house once was. Now, it just feels painfully empty.

 With a long sigh, Tim makes his way to the sink and fills up a glass with water - his hands are still shaking and he spills a bit onto himself, but he doesn’t care. Caring about it is too much right now, so he focuses on draining the glass empty before refilling it again. He feels dehydrated, but given the night he’s had so far, it isn’t surprising.

 “I need a distraction.” he mumbles, and soon enough, he’s raided the pantry and his refrigerator. Tim pulls  out some pots and pans from the cupboard, scattering everything throughout his kitchen where it’ll be most convenient. The repetitive tasks of cooking have always had a relaxing effect on him, and soon enough, the room is filled with scents and aromas that make his mouth water. Even now, while he is absolutely miserable.

 The casserole ends up being huge. It’s way too much for one person, even one with an appetite. But cooking for one after being used to there being someone else is hard - kind of useless, while you’re already at it.

 Tim has had that problem ever since he’s been cooking on his own, but knowing that Danny will be back to join him again, freshly back from some cave diving or urban exploration or whatever other strange new hobby he’d found at the time.

 Now, Tim is all on his own. He sighs unhappily. Cooking was a good distraction, up until he is painfully reminded that no one is there anymore to share it with. Not here, at least.

 He allows himself a few minutes of quiet greif, seated at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and a lukewarm cup of tea, sitting on the table by his side, almost forgotten.

 By the time the sun is starting to rise, Tim is up and moving again. He has put the casserole in several plastic boxes and packs two of them into his work bag.

 When he arrives at the office, way earlier than he usually does, because what is the point of staying home doing nothing, Tim places one of the boxes at the edge of Jon’s desk.

 Jon seems to be mildly surprised by the early company, and even more so by the plastic box.

 “Oh, Good morning... What is this?” he asks then, mildly curious.

 “Lunch. I was cooking last night and it was way too much. Thought I’d bring some in to share.” Tim forces a smile along with the half-lie, if only to cover how tired he is. He needs coffee.

 The “Thank you” Tim gets in response is equally surprised and genuine, and he tries very carefully to not interpret too much into it. Especially because their shared meal feels a lot more homely and strangely intimate that day. Getting takeout together or sitting somewhere is one thing, but sharing a home-cooked meal is something entirely different, he finds. He also finds that he doesn’t mind it.

 Only a few days later, conveniently when every last bit of the casserole is gone, Tim finds a plastic box that isn’t one of his own sitting on his desk. Curiously, he opens it and finds it filled to the brim with homemade curry, rice and veggies. Even cold, it smells heavenly and makes his mouth water. Tim looks over to the desk opposite of him, where Jon is already typing away like he usually does, but when he looks up and finds Tim smiling brightly at him, he smiles back.

 Something in his chest feels incredibly warm and fluttering.

 One evening, when the two of them get out of the office equally late - Jon because he always does, and Tim because he may or may not have waited for him - they walk to the tube together.

 In a spontanous fit of bravery and “Oh well, fuck it”, Tim carefully rechaes out until his own fingers gently brush against Jon’s as they walk. It’s dark outside, only illuminated by the countless lights that illuminate the shops and pubs and the sides of the street they’re walking along. Tim does so casually and carefully enough to be ignored or taken as a coincidence if needed be, just in case. But then his heart almost stops for a second when after a moment of stiffness, Jon accepts the offer and closes his own fingers around Tim’s.

 His touch is light at first, but then his grip tightens a bit, warm and comfortably so, and it is clear that his heart is in it. Of course it is - the two of them have gotten close in the last few weeks and months. There might have been some wishful thinking on Tim’s end involved - Jon is not always great at picking up social cues, especially romantic ones.

 “That’s fine though” he tells him later, “You’re a huge enough flirt to make it up for the both of us.”

 Jon squeezes his hand, and Tim happily squeezes back as he keeps walking beside him, just a little bit closer than before.

 He can’t help but smile. Something like happiness blooms in his chest, and even though they don’t talk about it the entire way, even though they keep holding hands when they sit next to each other in the tube, they remain this close all the way until their ways separate and they have to get onto a different line each. It feels right, and the sudden loss of touch as their ways separate makes Tim wish it could last - but turning back and running after the other train seems kind of silly now, especially since he’ll see Jon again the very next day.

 This becomes A Thing as well. Touching, that is.

 Holding hands, brushing along each other when they reach for folders or mugs or books in the library. Speaking of which, Tim has learned very quickly that there is      no     way to stop Jon from literally climbing high spaces to reach whatever he needs. As of now, he is long used to watching him scale a bookshelf or kitchen counter, much to his own amusement.

 “Hold on tight, little monkey.” he tells him as he walks past, grinning from ear to ear, knowing full well that he can’t expect more than a scoff and,

 “Oh, shut up.” as a response.

 Tim keeps it up though - because it’s fun and he knows he’s allowed to get away with it. Which can’t be said for anyone else in the institute, not like anyone would have tried as far as he knows. But he is ridiculously proud of it nonetheless. Tim is still cackling to himself when he wraps an arm around the other man’s shoulders and keeps chatting away to him all the way back into the research offices.

 He has always been very openly affectionate, with family, friends and romantic partners or those he’d fancied. It’s part of who he is, and if he is honest with himself, it feels good to have some part of him back that’s always been there. It helps a bit, and even more so since Jon not only happily lets him, he also leans back into the touch. Jon’s attempts at seeking out touch are a lot more subtle than Tim’s, at least at first, but he knows and recognizes it for the sign of trust and comfort that it is.

 That afternoon, there isn’t much time to chat at their desks, but about an hour before they’re supposed to get off, a balled up piece of paper hits Tim’s hand, clearly coming from Jon, but the sneaky bastard isn’t giving indication that he stopped reading at all.

 With a small smile, Tim opens the note. It’s not like Mr.   Workaholic to pass notes on the clock, but then again, he has to give Jon credit for loosening up significantly since the day they met. Or, maybe warmed up to human company is more like it. (He very carefully tries not to think, or more like hope, that it's him in particular Jon has warmed up to so much. But then again, Tim has heard some of their coworkers whisper in astonishment that it’s completely unheard of that Jonathan Sims leaves his desk for breaks or in time in the evenings, let alone interacting with other human beings more than absolutely necessary. Tim also caught the rumors about the two of them being a couple - he’d almost laughed then. He fucking      wishes    .)

 Tim unfolds the note and reads;

     “I have a lot of leftover curry I made last night. Would you like to come over for dinner after work? - J.”  

 This has become A Thing, too. Sharing meals after work and sometimes on the weekends. It alternates where they go, but especially lately, they have preferred to go to either Tim’s house or Jon’s apartment instead of a restaurant. For one, going out to eat on a regular basis is expensive, but also, cooking together or eating the leftovers from a late night cooking binge is a lot more comfortable and homely.

 Sharing a meal and oftentimes a couch with someone fills at least part of the void that Tim finds inside of himself. He is struggling still, but having another human being in his personal space, warm and alive and happy to be there, means the world to him. He’s feeling something again, something that isn’t constant fear or everlasting sadness.

 They watch movies sometimes - it’s not exactly easy to find something that both of them       like    . Their tastes in movies are widely different from each other, so instead, they opt to choose obscure sci-fi movies or anything they can pick apart and make fun of. No horror - they haven’t talked about it, but this is one of the few movie-related things they are in silent agreement over.

 Truth be told, poking fun at bad movies together is much more entertaining than watching anything the normal way.

 They are stuffing their faces with snacks and complain at the protagonists for making very unwise or straight up unrealistic decisions, even in-universe illogical ones. They pick apart plot-points and anything that doesn’t add up  while they share space on the couch, either holding hands or leaning against one another.

 “Oh, of course, give me a break!” Jon grouses as he shakes his hand that is currently holding a few crisps at the TV, annoyed to no end, it seems. In truth, he is      enjoying     this. He enjoys this an awful lot, and so does Tim.

 He laughs out loud and pulls Jon a little closer to his side.

 “Yes, you tell the creepy alien why it’s mere existence even in this fictional universe doesn’t make sense, Love!” He eggs him on, and only realizes the pet name has slipped out of his mouth by the time he notices the deep blush creeping on Jon’s face. Oh shit.

     “Now don’t say anything to fuck this up, for once in you life, just shut up!”    Tim thinks to himself, carefully trying to remain as calm as he can. They’ve been holding hands for ages and they keep cuddling up on the couch - this isn’t anything unexpected, for heaven’s sake. Hell, if Jon were anyone different, they might have ended up in bed already, but Tim is aware that this probably isn’t going to happen anytime soon - or at all, if he isn’t entirely mistaken, based on  the hints and observations. First and foremost the slow and careful way in which their relationship to each other is changing and developing, but then again, he knows what the simple black ring on the middle finger on a person’s right hand usually means.

 Tim doesn’t ask though - he figures that if Jon wants to talk about it, he will do so eventually and at his own pace.

 So, Tim doesn’t push anything and carefully waits for a response. But there isn’t one, or at least nothing verbal. Instead of saying anything, neither to Tim or about the movie, Jon simply scoots a little bit closer to him, leaning against him and doesn’t let go of his hand. Tim takes this as a win and leans his head against the tuft of long black hair that tickles his cheek.

 Both of them relax in an instant, and if they end up falling asleep on the couch, legs a tangled mess and with the TV still on, well, the next morning isn’t nearly as awkward as it might have been once upon a time.

 It takes Tim, way longer than it should to realize that, for the first time in a long while, he didn’t startle awake screaming that night. Company helps. It helps a lot. Just knowing that there is someone else, that he isn’t alone and doesn’t have to wake up to an eerily empty house anymore helps.

 Tim doesn’t fool himself into thinking that everything will magically resolve itself - he knows it won't, especially because his research about the circus isn’t going anywhere yet.

 Sometimes, he feels guilty. Guilty for not spending every waking minute searching for hints, searching for answers to the things that have taken his brother and traumatized him for life. The calmer, logical part of his brain is aware that it doesn’t work like that - he needs a break sometimes, needs the time to himself and spend it with other people…. And goddammit, he deserves to be happy.

 Danny would have kicked his arse if he could hear him think this, would have told him to get a grip and do something that makes him happy. Because this is what scares him sometimes - the happiness, the times where he doesn’t think of the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden or circuses and… Skin. Just the thought alone makes him shudder, but he can’t stop thinking about those memories sometimes.

 “...Are you alright?”

 Tim blinks, not having realized that he must have zoned out. He’s still on the couch, slowly waking up and with Jon tucked somewhere next to him. He doesn’t sound very awake yet, but there is concern in his voice as he fixes Tim with a very direct look.

 “I- yes, just. Zoned out a bit there.” Tim shoots him his best bright smile, hoping he’ll be able to chase away the ghosts. At least for now. He sighs, and happily leans into the touch and hugs back when he can feel a pair of slim arms snaking around his waist. Jon doesn’t say anything, but he seems to pick up that something is bothering Tim. And much like him in emotional situations, Jon doesn’t know what to say. So he remains close and thankfully, this is exactly what Tim needs right now. Just being close to someone he cares a whole lot about, feeling their heartbeat near his own. Being held for a bit. He squeezes Jon in silent gratitude for being there, and hopes he can get across what he can’t say.

 It is Saturday and they have a whole weekend in front of them. After they peel themselves off of the couch, they stumble off to the bathroom after one another and then to the kitchen in an attempt to fuel themselves with tea and breakfast. It’s painfully, beautifully domestic.

 While he is keeping an eye on several pans on the propane stove, Tim is chatting away about something - he isn’t exactly sure himself, except it is something pointless that distracts him from his earlier train of thought. Jon and him are laughing and joking while they drink tea and prepare breakfast together. But after a while it looks like Jon wants to say something, stops himself, and then more of the same all over again.

 Eventually, Tim can’t watch him struggle over it anymore and straight out asks,

 “Hey. What’s going on in that fuzzy head of your’s?”

 It’s true - both of them still have a severe case of bed-heads, and Jon huffs at the question and tries to smooth down a few of the stubborn flyaways around his face. Only very mildly successful.

 “I… Was going to ask something.”

 “Alright? Shoot.” Tim very, very carefully swallows the joke he was about to make in the end - if this is going where he hopes it might, he doesn’t want one god awful pun to be part of the memory of it. So he waits.  

 Jon seems to be bracing himself, and then he turns around to face Tim.

 “I would like to kiss you. Is that okay?” he asks. A simple question, and yet - it means so much. Tim smiles at him, heart beating out of his chest as he steps closer to Jon.

 “Yes, I’d love that.”

 There are only mere inches separating them. Both Jon and Tim cross the last of the distance at once, hands searching for each other. Their fingers are interlacing tightly as soon as they touch, and just a split second later, their lips meet for the first time. There is no rush, nothing in this world that would get them to hurry anything up at this moment. Slowly, they kiss again and again, tasting faintly of the tea they had earlier, but even more so, it feels like comfort. Maybe even a little bit like home.

 A quiet happiness settles deep into them, and something seems to click into place. They are happy, and there is nowhere they’d rather be than anywhere, as long as they can be together.

 After a little while, their hands let go of each other, but only so they can pull one another closer. One of Tim’s hands is cupped around Jon’s cheek, thumb gently stroking over the soft stubble while his other arm remains wrapped around him, hand resting at the small of his back. Jon on the other hand, has to angle his head up a bit due to their height difference, but he doesn’t mind that at all. Both of his arms are wrapped around Tim’s torso, and if it was possible, he would like to remain like this forever.

 Unfortunately for the two of them, life has other plans.

 When the smell of something burning registers with the two of them, they regretfully break apart cursing and laughing as they quickly remove the pans from the heat.

 “That was - good lord, why now of all times?” Breathlessly and more than a little high from happy brain chemicals, they try to get a grip on themselves and on the situation.

 “Just like our luck, isn’t it?” Tim is joking, of course, but still. The timing couldn’t have been worse.

 “This       better     not become a habit.” Jon glares at the charred eggs and smoking pans as if they personally insulted him. He’d been having a good time, but of course something had to happen. Oh well.

 “We’ll just have to make up for it.” Tim winks at him, grinning widely. He doesn’t mean much by it, and he only realizes how that might have come across when Jon awkwardly clears his throat and says,

 “The kissing? Yes, absolutely. Other things… Well, most other things, actually… Not so much. I erm, I should have said that before now, I suppose. But, I’m Asexual.” he chooses his words slowly and deliberately, like he is trying to say them exactly right.

 Tim looks into his eyes, bright green and shining with happiness, but now, there is something else creeping into them. Self-doubt, insecurities - Tim isn’t sure, but he wants to do his best to make the doubts disappear - and apologize for his big mouth.

 “That’s absolutely fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that - I wasn’t implying anything else, I promise.”

 Slowly, Jon nods, visibly relaxed now. He asks,

 “So… We’re good?”

 “We are. More than good actually, if you ask me.” Tim finds himself smiling again, which is something he’s been doing so much more lately. Then he tucks away a strand of hair from Jon’s face and kisses him again, just as gentle as before. He is happy to find that he returns the kiss in an instant, pushing close until the two of them end up pressed up against the kitchen table. After they break apart again, they remain standing in an embrace.

 “I like you, Jon. I like you a lot. I love being around you and with you, just for who you are. Yes, I enjoy sex, but I don’t need it. So if you don’t want to, that is okay and it doesn’t make a difference to me. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

 He nearly says, “I love you” but that might be a little early - saying it too early has ruined his relationships in the past, and although what Jon and he have is something different, Tim doesn’t want to risk it.

 But as it turns out, he said the right thing. Jon looks a lot more relaxed than before, and he keeps a loose hold around Tim’s hips.

 “Thank you, Tim, that’s… Very reassuring actually. I’ve been with people who reacted quite a bit differently to this, so” Jon shrugs, but it is clear that this isn’t a happy memory.

 “I appreciate you.” He adds, and Tim pulls him a little bit closer.

 “I’m sorry. These people fucking suck.”

 “That’s one way to put it, yes.” Jon smiles, and pulls Tim down for another, longer kiss. It feels just as intoxicating as before. Then he tells him,

 “And, just for the record. I like you a lot, and spending time with you makes me very happy.

 The giddy happiness stays with them - being freshly in love and being freshly together is exciting. It is a feeling Tim will never get tired of. The thing is, being together with Jon doesn’t change a whole lot - they are still on opposite desks from each other at work, they still spend their lunch breaks together and Tim actually manages to get Jon to leave the office at 5pm these days,  instead of late at night like he did for the longest time. They still have dinner together most days and they often spend their weekends together. All of these are things they did before, but now, it still feels… Different.

 Then of course, there are the casually affectionate touches throughout the day. They’d like to think that they’re being more discreet here, but then again, at least Tim has never been shy about throwing arms around people or bumping shoulders or anything like that. In fact, people would probably get concerned and suspicious if he stopped doing any of it.

 The point is: they keep it down to normal levels at work, but they seem to be glued together whenever they’re off the clock. Whether they hold hands, hug, kiss, bump shoulders, hips, arms or hands, or sometimes simply nap stacked on top of each other, they are always touching in some way. Both of them soak up the contact like sponges, and they know without having even talked about it in detail that they spent quite a bit of time lonely and touch starved before… This. Their relationship.

 Waking up with one another in the mornings is probably Tim’s favourite part of all. Holding onto each other with their legs tangled together, hands searching for warm skin to rest on and heads pillowed on each other's shoulder or chest. Sharing breaths of air - all of this feels wonderful and intimate in it’s own way, and he can’t get enough of it.

 Waking up in the morning is a peaceful thing. But some nights, unfortunately, are not. Both of them have nightmares on a regular basis. They find that they generally sleep better when they are not alone, and having someone to hold close or bury into when the lingering horrors hit, helps significantly.

 Some nights, it’s Jon who startles awake in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving as he frantically looks around himself until he realizes where he is, or until Tim wakes up and mumbles quiet reassurances into his hair as he holds him close until the tremors have calmed down.

 If they’re lucky, they manage to fall back asleep after a while, but if not, they simply stay awake, cuddled up under soft blankets and they just talk. Their topics of conversation vary widely, ranging from silly, lighthearted distractions to things they did or experienced in their past, as well as heartfelt conversations that are about much more than just that.

 Tim himself has his fair share of nightmares as well, ever since he lost Danny. And even though having Jon close by and being held at night helps to keep them at bay sometimes, there are still nights where he startles awake either screaming or crying or both.

 The first time it happens, Tim wakes up terrified and tangled in the sheets. His shirt clings to the cold sweat that is running down his back and his breath comes out in irregular, shaky bursts.

     A dimly lit circus arena, old and dusty with centuries of dirt. Tim can’t move. It’s like he is rooted to the spot, and yet, his legs won’t stop shaking. He is shivering from the cold - no surprise, since he ran out in nothing but his pyjamas earlier, and this place is surprisingly freezing for a hot August night. Tim can feel the cold, but more so than anything, he is absolutely terrified.  

     He wants to scream, to run, do anything but stand here - but it’s impossible. The crumpled form of his brother - or the        Thing         that pretends to be Danny - sits motionless and hunched over, no matter how much Tim tries to call out for him. Not a single word leaves his throat, even though his vocal cords hurt from the strain he’s been putting on them. But Danny doesn’t hear him - can’t hear him.  

     From out of the shadows, Tim can see… Something. It looks like a clown, but it’s wrong. Too long, too folded up to be human. It drags itself across the floor slowly and grotesquely, like a creature from a horror movie, up until it stops. Unlike a movie creature though, this is very much reality.  

     Breathing is hard, and Tim wants to force his body to move, but still, there is nothing he can do. Part of him wants to believe that this… Place, this        Thing         is influencing his ability to move somehow, but then again, he might just as well be paralyzed by fear.  

     The clown moves forward, right towards Danny. As it unfurls itself, it is clear that there are smears of blood all over its face, red and bold and dripping wet.  

     “Shall I?” it asks, with a voice that is playful in the worst possible way. Too happy, and way too sinister. Tim can’t even answer, still unable to talk or move or do anything, but he can feel the bile rise in his throat. He wants to grab Danny and run, but knows he can’t. He wants to scream, cry or throw up, anything but watch the scene unfolding in front of him.  

     None of this happens though.  

     Instead, Tim is forced to stand motionless and helpless, watching in agony and horror as the clown moves much more quickly than he could have anticipated. It’s not as much that he can actually see the movement, but Tim can feel it. He can feel the breeze of air on his face, and just a split second later, it has removed the entirety of Danny’s skin. His limp, bloody and bare form slumps forward, and it is only then that Tim actually starts screaming.  

         He is screaming his head off,  loud, desperate and terrified. Tim is shaking like a leaf. Breathing is impossible, and it takes him way too long to realize that in order to breathe, he needs to calm down for just a second. It takes even longer for him to realize that he is at home, safely in bed and long out of this situation. But Danny… Danny is just as dead.

 Between ragged, forced breaths, Tim is curling in on himself, unable to register that Jon has woken up and is talking to him in a low, concerned voice. He tries to get his partner to calm down at least a bit, afraid he’ll end up hyperventilating from panic.

 Tim doesn’t register any of it. He can’t make out Jon’s gentle voice trying to bring him back, doesn’t register the light, careful touch on his arm in an attempt to soothe without scaring him further. Tim curls himself into a tight, shaking ball without noticing any of it.

 After the first initial panic, there is a brief moment of silence, but after that, he breaks. Ragged breath turns into uncontrollable, hiccuping sobs and it is only then that Tim realizes the familiar pair of arms slipping around him in a protective embrace. He uncurls just enough to be able to hug back and let Jon slip closer to him, which he does as soon as humanly possible. Tim clings onto him for dear life as Jon curls himself around him in what must be an uncomfortable or at least awkward position, but this is the last thing on his mind.  All Jon cares about right now is making sure that Tim is okay, or at least, as okay as he can be.

 Their bodies are pressed flush together, tightly enough for them to feel each other's rapidly beating hearts hammering out of their chests. Tim tries to focus on that, tries to focus on the carefully even rhythm of breath that Jon attempts to get him to follow.

 His presence is constant, warm and comforting. Tim can feel his weight on top of himself, the hold of his arms around him. Strands of hair and warm breath on his neck are a familiar sensation as well, something he’s been getting used to lately. Even more so, it is something that Tim loves and associates with home by now. And while the fear and pain caused by his nightmare are still very much lingering, he is able to relax in order to calm down eventually. Slowly but surely, a little bit over the course of - he doesn’t even know how long.

 Time has lost all meaning at this point. It might take him minutes or hours to breathe normally again, and at some point, Tim realizes that the steady stream of talking, besides the quiet attempts to comfort and assure him, are actually bits and pieces of random information. Anything to keep talking and keep up a steady presence, Tim supposes, but he is eternally grateful for it. He shifts a bit, arms still wrapped tightly around Jon, although he’s stopped clinging as much by now. He stretches out a little bit without letting go of their embrace - everything hurts from holding himself so tense for so long. Then Tim pulls the both of them onto their side so they can cuddle properly.

 Gentle hands keep running through his messy mop of purple hair, blunt nails scratching against his scalp. Tim leans into it, soaking up the touch like a sponge. He’s stopped shaking now, he notices, and he registers a lot more sensations than he did before.

 Little sounds around the house, wind outside, the occasional car. Most of all, he registers all the different little touches from Jon, and the way he keeps talking to him even now.

 After a while, he leans in to kiss Tim’s forehead, thumbs wiping away a few stray tears. It seems like the worst of the storm is over by now, but Jon stays close. He’s never seen Tim in such a state, and it worries him to no end. At least it looks like he isn’t in severe panic anymore.

 “Do you want to talk?” Jon asks quietly, but all Tim can manage is shake his head. It's not like he      could    talk right now if he tried. He doesn't trust his voice, knowing it will break, which is probably going to set him off again and he's not ready to face that.

 Maybe, a part of him wants to talk about what happened. Sure, it is going to hurt regardless, whenever he decides he is ready for it, but there is no doubt that it will help to get it off of his chest. But Tim doesn’t know how he is supposed to talk about the horrors he's witnessed. Where would he even start? How does he explain all of it without sounding - well.

 “That’s alright.” Jon tightens his hold around Tim as he shifts a little bit, without letting go, so he can rest his head on top of Tim’s. There is a quiet, almost suffocating sadness radiating off of him, and even though he doesn’t know what happened that got him into this state, Jon offers him all the support he can, in any way he knows how. Physical touch seems to help a lot, thankfully. That, he can do forever.

 “I’m here for you. Whatever it is you need, I’m here.”

 The sun is starting to rise on the horizon, but Tim and Jon remain in bed, wrapped up around each other just like before. Birds are starting to sing outside, even before the first rays of the morning sun tint the room into a low light.

 “I love you. I’m here for you, and I love you.”

                             Notes:

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 18

Chapters: 18/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17]

They cook, they feed him, they chat away about inane things. Their presence soothes Martin and their voices fill him with the warmth sucked away by his unexpected encounter.

Gerry helps him make tea after dinner, and they all sit at the table together, even the cats sleeping nearby, cuddled up into one big, grey and black fluff ball.

"I think," Martin begins, voice croaky, "That I would like to tell you now."

"We're ready to listen if you're ready to tell us." Jon offers softly. Gerry reaches over to take one of his hands, turning it over to kiss the palm sweetly.

Martin talks, voice quiet and even.

"In the beginning, it was just a normal relationship. Except for the fact that he was almost twenty years older than me, and about a million times richer. I didn't know that at first, of course. He was just a middle-aged man I met in a gay bar, who didn't seem to mind that I was trans. I felt secure in our relationship, if not exactly nurtured or adored. I had never felt very secure before, and it seemed like enough, you know?

"He took me out, brought me a few things in the beginning. He was very dominant, sexually, but I was a lot less sure of my own preferences back then and I thought it was fine. He never even blinked at my trashy flat or cheap clothes, and I didn't even realise just how much money he had for a long time. Maybe I just can't really comprehend that much money, even now.

"When I was twenty-two, my mother died, and…" He huffs out a shaky, emotional laugh. "Well, I was a real mess. I lost my job, and almost my flat. Peter started paying for things, my rent, clothes, meals. He said that I needed somewhere to live and had to eat and look presentable, and it was his pleasure to provide those things for me. It made me feel a bit gross, but I struggled to find another job, and so I accepted it."

Martin hesitates here, before continuing. "The problem started when I wasn't interested in sex one night."

"He forced you?" Gerry interrupts to ask dangerously, threat explicit in his quiet words. His eyes seem to glow faintly in the growing dark of the room, as the sun sets. He wishes, more than ever, that he had helped Jon kick the shit out of Peter Lukas, instead of stopping him.

Martin sighs, eyes pressed tight closed for a second. "Not exactly. He simply pointed out that he paid for me to exist. So I made myself interested."

Gerry's hands tighten into fists and he moves them under the table where Martin can't see them anymore. Jon suddenly looks very pale. They share a look, neither able to see much difference between 'forcing' and what sounds a lot like financial abuse to them.

Martin pulls his legs up to his chest, curling around them as he goes on. "Our relationship became a lot more transactional after that night. I disengaged whatever feelings I had left for him and simply drew all my emotions down deep into myself. I wasn't ashamed to be getting paid for sex, but I felt like I had lost my own consent in the matter. Peter honestly seemed like he had gotten exactly what he wanted. Money was nothing to him, and he had someone to take out on his arm or shag whenever he wanted, without the work of a real relationship, or the complications of unfortunate attachments.

"So, if I needed something, I told him. He set a date, took me out, fucked me. He gave me however much I needed."

Martin shrugs, looking down at his hands. "I honestly hated it. Not because of the prostitution itself, sex has always been very nurturing for me, and I sometimes caught the idea that it was only another way to care for people, and being paid for that is perfectly fine, if you're doing it for the right reasons. The real issue was Peter himself. He had this way of making me feel… bereft and hollow, even before the money came into it."

A few tears track down his face, although his face remains rather blank, in a numb way. It's only as he admits the next words that his voice breaks and the heartbreak works its way out again.

"I was very foolish. Looking back, I can see that I was still a child in a lot of ways. I put myself into a situation that damaged me, but I accept the consequences of those actions, both then and now. I- I-"

"Martin," Jon whispers, warm love clear in his voice. It's nothing but an offer of support, one that he desperately needs right now.

He presses his eyes shut, forcing away the stutter and the lump of tears. "I knew I wasn't going to be able to get out of it, even if I got a crap, minimum wage job that I was qualified for. So I started applying for any work that was available. I made every application exactly what they wanted, and I hoped for the best. When Elias offered me the job at Magnus, I took it happily. Since then I found out that Peter knows him, and probably arranged the job for me, but at the time I had no idea. Looking back, I know that it's a miracle that I got out of it at all. Peter could have chosen to make my life a living hell. Instead, he accepted the several firm rejections I offered him.

"He promised me that we weren't done, that I would be back, but he left me alone. I was done. I moved on with my life, even if I had to lie to do it." Martin sighs, shakes out his shoulders, the most difficult part over now.

"I had always planned to be open about it with my next relationships, but they were so fleeting that it never even came up. By the time I fell for Jon, it had become a secret, one I was loathed to dig up for a relationship I was convinced wouldn't last. I thought to myself, 'Why ruin something that makes me happy?' I assumed it would fall apart anyway, and it was easier to allow it to be in the past.

"But I am sorry. I'm sorry that I never told you. I'm sorry you had to find out from him. I'm sorry that we've been together for more than a year and we basically live together, and I've put you in this position. I love you both, very very much."

"When did you eventually decide that our relationship was going to last?" Jon queries, genuine curiosity in his voice.

There's a beat of hazy silence at the abrupt change in tone and topic.

"Oh, ah-" Martin stumbles over his words, unsure how blatantly honest to be. He chooses the real truth, no matter how unfortunate. "The day that I got Luna was the first time I really accepted that you both loved me."

Jon simply raises an eyebrow, completely unconcerned. "What about you, Gerry?"

"With you," Gerry responds easily, "at the hospital in Morden, when I was so panicked that I couldn't decide if I wanted to kill you or handcuff us together for the rest of our lives. With Martin-"

He breaks off with a laugh, colouring slightly. "It was the day we dyed my hair purple."

"The first time we had sex?" Martin asks, surprised at such a hedonistic answer.

He laughs again, more confidently this time. "No, actually, although that was spectacular. It was afterwards, when you braided my hair for the first time. That was the first time anyone had ever braided my hair. It made me feel so… So honoured. Like I was the most precious thing to you."

"Gerry, you are the most precious thing to me. You both are." Martin whispers, tears creeping back into his voice.

"Good, because the feeling is mutual, and we desperately need you around to keep us in line," Jon tells him, voice unusually firm and confident.

"What about you?" Martin remembers to ask him, at risk of floating away in his post confession haze. "When did you know?"

"With Gerry, it was when we were teenagers. I kissed him for the first time, and he laughed at me. I just knew he was my soulmate." Jon rolls his eyes at this, but his voice is full of blatant affection. "With you, Martin, it was- Well, to be quite honest with you, there was no one special moment. It was a million tiny moments, all of them special and perfect to me. Every cup of tea, every frown while you were writing poetry, glasses pushed haphazardly up into your lovely hair. The easy, glorious look on your face the day you met Gerry for the first time, as if you weren't even capable of not falling in love with him, just as I hadn't been. It was especially the days that I would come out of the library and find you waiting for me after work. This weight of total surety would fill my chest and leave me gasping, needing you."

Jon sighs, his own eyes a little bright. "I suppose it was really the night you kissed me in the rain, and every soft moment since then has only affirmed the way I knew you were it for me."

Jon smiles at Martin so beatifically that he forgets to breathe for a moment.

"We love you too, Martin," Gerry tells him, reaching out to grasp a hand. Jon takes the other. "And we wouldn't want you any other way."

***

The next morning, Martin wakes to find Jon eyeing his phone intently. Gerry is asleep on his other side, and he feels warmly cocooned between them. Gentle cloudy light fills the space, encouraging the comfortable cozy atmosphere of their bed.

"What's wrong, love?" Martin asks sleepily, snuggling into his side.

"I got-" Jon pauses, utterly flummoxed. "I got paid a bonus."

"What?" Equally perplexed, Martin takes his phone, squinting as he tries to read the screen.

The banking app is open, and there is indeed a deposit there, Jon's normal salary amount, but on completely the wrong date.

In the purpose box, it simply reads 'Entertainment Value'.

"You don't think," Jon starts, hesitant, "that Elias paid me…"

"For hitting Peter Lukas?" Martin finishes, "His own husband."

They blink at each other, bewildered.

"Does that seem… slightly cursed, to you?" Jon whispers as if Elias might hear him. Even worse if Elias could hear them, and would probably enjoy being accused of having a cursed relationship.

"Yes, completely cursed. What is up with those two?" Martin looks as if he's smelled something bad.

"We absolutely cannot spend this money, right?" Jon asks. "Lest we are cursed with their relationship dysfunction."

"Correct," Martin responds firmly, shuddering. "Can we donate it to the animal shelter?"

"I think that's a wonderful idea." Jon's relief at this resolution is palpable.

He does it straight away, as if even having the money in his bank account might ruin their lives.

They let out a simultaneous sigh as the transfer goes through.

"That is wild," Martin mutters as he snuggles back down.

Jon tosses his phone away, no longer interested in it. Instead, he wraps his arms around Martin, burying his nose in his lover's hair. It smells of bergamot and tea leaves and the ocean in winter, just like Martin himself, and Jon luxuriates in the moment.

"I love you, Martin K. Blackwood." He whispers into the soft air.

"Even if I don't actually have a middle name?" Martin whispers back.

"Especially because of that." Jon chuckles.

They lay together, the gentle moments of the morning flowing around them. Later, they get up and shower together. They drink tea in front of the big windows in the living space. Martin reads a book from Gerry's shelves, his own books still packed, and Jon wanders off to play his piano where it is randomly set up, right in the middle of Gerry's typical painting area.

Gerry himself appears downstairs, still sleepy and bleary-eyed. He curls up with his head in Martin's lap, listening to Jon fill the flat with gentle music.

It's the soft sort of moment that each of them had been wishing for all their lives, full of love, and family, and a home of their very own.

[princelymlm]

Gotta Be LGBT+

This is a list of just some of the LGBT+ content out there. Anything on this list was contains LGBT+ characters or was made by LGBT+ creators. All entries on this list were sent in by followers and have not been confirmed by the mod. (Entries with ‘rep not given’ next to them mean that the suggestion did not include what kind of representation is in the content)

Put everything under the cut since this list started getting really long

Books/Comics

They Both Die At The End - Adam Silvera (mlm)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire-Saénz (mlm)

Symptoms of Being Human (genderfluid)

Lily and Dunkin - Donna Gephart (trans/trans woman)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid (wlw/bi)

The Gentleman’s Guide To Vice and Virtue - Mackenzie Lee (mlm/gay/bi)

Been Here All Along - Sandy Hall (gay/bi)

History Is All You Left Me - Adam Silvera (mlm/gay)

Blue Is The Warmest Color - Julie Maroh (wlw/bi/lesbian)

Mask of Shadows - Linsey Miller (bi/genderfluid)

Once and Future - Cori McCarthy (wlw/mlm/gay/bi/nonbinary)

Simon vs the Homosapiens Agenda - Beck Albertalli (mlm/gay)

Leah on the Offbeat - Becky Albertalli (wlw/bi)

Grasshopper Jungle - Andrew Smith (questioning/mlm)

The Rest of Us Just Live Here - Patrick Ness (mlm/gay)

Flying Tips For Flightless Birds - Kelly McCaughrain (mlm/gay)

I’ll Give You The Sun - Jandy Nelson (mlm)

Point Pleasant - Jen Archer Wood (mlm) 

True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - Gerard Way (mlm/wlw)

The Wayfarers Series - Becky Chambers (wlw/aro/trans man/nonbinary/genderfluid)

Vesuvius Club - Mark Gatiss (bi)

The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller (mlm)

Radio Silence - Alice Oseman (bi/mlm/demi/gay/pan/wlw/lesbian)

Of Fire and Stars - Audrey Coulthurst (wlw/lesbian)

Magnus Chase Series - Rick Riordan (genderfluid)

Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan (gay)

This Is Kind of An Epic Love Story - Kheyrn Callender (mlm/wlw)

Gracefully Grayson - Ami Polonsky (trans woman)

If I Was Your Girl - Meredith Russon (trans woman)

Call Me By Your Name - Andre Aciman (mlm)

Red, White, and Royal Blue - Casey McQuinston (mlm)

I Wish You All The Best - Mason Deaver (nonbinary)

Dreadnaught + Sovereign - April Daniels (wlw/trans woman)

The Art of Being Normal - Lisa Williamson (trans)

The Gone Series - Michael Grant (mlm/wlw)

One Of Us Is Lying - Karen McManus (mlm)

Six Of Crows - Leigh Bardugo (mlm)

Crooked Kingdom - Leigh Bardugo (rep not given)

The Last Sun - Author Not Provided (rep not given)

Romeo and/or Juliet - Ryan North (rep not given)

American Gods - Neil Gaiman (mlm/gay/bi) 

The Mage Wars Series - Mercedes Lackey (gay)

Scott Pilgrim vs The World - Bryan Lee O’Malley (mlm/gay/wlw)

Boyfriends With Girlfriends - Alex Sánchez (mlm/wlw/bi/gay)

Will Grayson, Will Grayson - David Levithan & John Green (mlm)

This Is Where It Ends -Marieke Nijkamp (lesbian/wlw)

Carry On - Rainbow Rowell (mlm)

Stranger Than Fanfiction - Chris Colfer (mlm/trans man/gay)

The Reader Trilogy (The Reader, The Speaker, The Storyteller) - Traci Chee (mlm/wlw/nonbinary)

I Was Born For This - Alice Oseman (trans)

Heartstopper - Alice Oseman (mlm)

The Broken Earth Trilogy - MK Jemisin (trans woman/poly/pan/mlm

A Boy Worth Knowing - Jennifer Cosgrove (mlm/bi/gay)

The Rifter - Author Not Provided (mlm)

Snapdragon - Author Not Provided (wlw/ trans woman)

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon (wlw/lesbian/mlm/gay)

Tipping the Velvet - Sarah Waters (wlw/lesbian)

Fingersmith - Sarah Waters (wlw/lesbian)

The Paying Guests - Sarah Waters (wlw/lesbian)

I Am J - Cris Beam (trans man)

Little And Lion - Brandy Colbert (bi)

Autoboyography - Christina Lauren (bi)

Felix Ever After - Kacen Callender (trans)

Birthday - Meredith Russo (trans)

Stay Gold - Tobly McSmith (trans)

You Should See Me In A Crown - Leah Johnson (lesbian)

Girls of Paper and Fire - Natasha Ngan (lesbian)

The Henna Wars - Adiba Jaigirdar (lesbian)

Let's Talk About Love - Claire Kann (ace)

The Lady's Guide To Petticoats and Piracy - Mackenzi Lee (ace/aro)

The Vanishers' Place - Aliette De Bodard (wlw)

Ash - Malinda Lo (wlw/bi)

The Little Homo Sapiens Scientist - S. L. Huang (wlw)

Everfair - Nisi Shawl (wlw)

Dread Nation: Risse Up - Justina Ireland (wlw/bi/ace)

The Gilda Stories - Jewelle Gomez (wlw/lesbian)

The True Queen - Zen Cho (wlw)

The Devourers - Indra Das (genderfluid/bi)

We Set The Dark On Fire - Tehlor Kay Mejia (wlw)

Smoketown - Tenea D. Johnson (wlw/lesbian)

Falling In Love With Hominids - Nalo Hopkinson (wlw)

The Fox’s Tower and Other Tales - Yoon Ha Lee (nonbinary)

Her Body and Other Parties - Carmen Maria Machado (wlw)

Beneath the Citadel - Destiny Soria (mlm/gay/bi/ace)

Witchmark - C.L Polk (mlm/gay)

The Prey of Gods - Nicky Drayden (trans/bi)

An Unkindness of Ghosts - Rivers Solomon (wlw/trans/nonbinary/intersex)

The Root - Na’amen Gobert Tilahun (mlm/gay)

Gods & Monsters: Snake Eyes - Hillary Monohan (wlw)

Labyrinth Lost - Zoraida Cordova (wlw/bi)

The Winged Histories - Sofia Samatar (wlw)

The Weight of Stars - K. Ancrum (wlw)

Huntress - Malinda Lo (wlw)

Will Do Magic For Small Change - Andrea Hairston (bi/pan/nonbinary)

The Last Chronomancer - Reilyn J Hardy (aro/ace/genderfluid/lesbian)

A Taste of Honey - Kai Ashante Wilson (mlm/bi)

Deadline - Stephanie Ahn (wlw/lesbian)

The Read Threads of Fortune - JY Yang (wlw/bi)

Not Your Sidekick - C.B. Lee (wlw/bi)

Timekeeper - Tara Sim (mlm)

Ascension - Jacqueline Koyangi (wlw)

When The Moon Was Ours - Anna-Marie McLemore (trans)

Amberlough - Lara Elena Donnelly (mlm/gay)

The Perfect Assassin - K.A Doore (gay/ace/mlm)

Afterparty - Daryl Gregory (wlw/lesbian)

Borderline - Mishell Baker (wlw/bi)

The Cloud Roads - Martha Wells (bi)

An Accident of Stars - Foz Meadows (wlw/bi/aro/trans)

The Last 8 - Laura Pohl (aro/bi)

Failure to Communicate - Kaia Sonderby (wlw/bi)

The Luminous Dead - Caitlin Starling (wlw)

The Wrong Stars - Tim Pratt (wlw)

Full Fathom Five - Max Gladstone (trans)

A Memory Called Empire - Arkady Martine (wlw)

Silver In the Wood - Emily Tesh (mlm)

The Raven Tower - Ann Leckie (mlm/bi/trans)

Ariah - B.R. Sanders (mlm/bi/nonbinary)

The Raven and the Reindeer - T. Kingfisher (wlw)

Planetfall - Emma Newman (bi)

Black Wings Beating - Alex London (ace/gay/mlm)

The Scorpion Rule - Erin Bow (bi)

Inkmistress - Audrey Coulthurst (bi)

Into the Drowning Deep - Mira Grant (wlw/bi/lesbian)

Vengeful - V.E Schwab (ace)

Blackfish City - Sam J Miller (nonbinary)

Daughter of Mystery - Heather Rose Jones (wlw/lesbian)

Stranger Grace - Tessa Gratton (bi/pan)

The Brilliant Death - Amy Rose Capetta (nonbinary)

Chameleon Moon - RoAnna Sylver (wlw/trans/ace)

19 Love Stories - David Levithan (trans/queer)

It’s Not Like It’s A Secret - Author Not Given (wlw)

Picture Us In The Light - Author Not Given (mlm)

Two Can Keep A Secret - Author Not Given (mlm/bi)

Death Sets Sail - Author Not Given (wlw)

Becoming Dinah - Author Not Given (rep not provided)

Witch Wolf series - Winter Pennington (wlw, lesbian, bisexual)

Underrealm series - Garrett Robinson (wlw, mlm, nonbinary, trans man trans woman, trans, pansexual, bisexual)

A Cloak of Red - Brenna Gawain (wlw, lesbian)

 Blood Canticles - Naomi Clark (wlw)

Podcasts

Welcome to Night Vale (mlm/gay/wlw/nonbinary)

Dreamboy (mlm/gay)

Alice Isn’t Dead (wlw/lesbian)

The Penumbra Podcast (mlm/bi/genderfluid/nonbinary)

My Favorite Podcast (trans men)

Within the Wires (wlw)

The Adventure Zone (mlm/wlw/trans/gnc/nonbinary)

Limetown (wlw/lesbian)

Getting Curious With Jonathan Van Ness (nblm/nonbinary)

Friends at the Table (mlm/wlw/nonbinary)

LezHangOut (wlw)

Bright Sessions (mlm/demi/ace)

Queer As Fact (historical lgbt)

History Is Gay (historical lgbt)

Always Here (historical lgbt)

And That’s Why We Drink (nonbinary)

Magnus Archives (mlm/ace)

The Two Princes (mlm/gay/bi)

Girl-ish (trans women)

The Bright Sessions (gay/ace)

TV Shows/Movies/ETC

One Day At A Time (Remake) (wlw/lesbian/nonbinary)

Love, Simon (mlm/gay)

A Single Man (mlm/gay)

Brokeback Mountain (mlm/gay)

In The Flesh (mlm/gay)

Weekend (mlm)

RWBY (wlw/trans)

Jessica Jones (wlw/lesbian)

Critical Role (mlm/gay/bi/wlw/lesbian/nonbinary/genderfluid)

Pose (trans women/gay)

Schitt’s Creek (pan/mlm)

White Collar (wlw)

Lucifer (bi)

Umbrella Academy (mlm/wlw)

Call Me By Your Name (mlm)

Brooklyn Nine Nine (mlm/gay/bi)

Steven Universe (nonbinary)

Sailor Moon (wlw)

Buffy the Vampire Slayer (wlw)

Sense8 (mlm/gay/wlw/lesbian/trans woman)

Doom Patrol (?/rep not given)

Good Omens (nonbinary)

Gentleman Jack (wlw)

American Gods (mlm/gay/bi/two-spirit)

Orange Is The New Black (wlw/trans)

Blue Is The Warmest Color (wlw)

Shameless (mlm/trans)

Euphoria (wlw/trans woman)

Modern Family (mlm/gay)

Daisy Brown ARG (wlw/lesbian)

Deadpool (pan)

Deadpool 2 (pan/wlw)

Alex Strangelove (mlm/gay)

Wynonna Earp (lesbian/gay/wlw)

She-Ra (wlw/mlm/gay/bi/lesbian/nonbinary/trans man)

SKAM (rep not provided)

Gotham (bi)

The Haunting of Hill House (wlw)

The Haunting of Bly Manor (wlw)

Kipo and the Wonderbeasts (mlm/gay/nonbinary)

Billie and Emma (wlw)

Carmen & Lola (wlw)

Carol (wlw)

Disobedience (wlw)

Elisa & Marcela (wlw)

Good Manners (wlw)

The Handmaiden (wlw)

Heart Beat Loud (wlw)

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (wlw)

Rafiki (wlw)

Stranger Things (wlw)

Handsome Devil (mlm)

Pride (wlw/mlm)

Musicals

The Prom (wlw/lesbian)

Be More Chill (mlm/bi)

Fun Home (wlw)

Spring Awakening (mlm)

A New Brain (mlm)

Falsettos (mlm/wlw)

Rent (mlm/wlw)

Firebringer (wlw/bi)

A Very Potter Musical (mlm/gay)

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals (wlw)

Bare: A Pop Opera (mlm)

Everybody’s Talking About Jaime (mlm/gay)

Yank! The Musical (mlm)

Octet (wlw)

Ghost Quartet (wlw)

Spies Are Forever (mlm/gay)

Willow: A New Musical (wlw)

Over And Out: A New Musical (nblw/nonbinary)

Video Games

Fallout: New Vegas (mlm/gay/wlw/lesbian)

When The Night Comes (mlm/nonbinary)

The Arcana (nonbinary)

Dream Daddy (mlm/gay/bi/pan/trans)

Dragon Age (mlm/wlw/gay/lesbian/trans/pan/bi)

Smile For Me (wlw)

Undertale (trans/nonbinary/wlw/mlm)

Monster Prom (nonbinary)

Cookie Run (nonbinary/mlm/wlw/bi/pan)

The Missing (wlw/trans woman)

Fable 2 & 3 (wlw/mlm)

Borderlands 2 (mlm/wlw/bi/gay/lesbian)

Gone Home (wlw)

Prey (wlw)

Dishonored 2 (nonbinary/wlw)

Deus Ex Mankind Divided System Rift (rep not given)

Assassins Creed Series (mlm/wlw/gay/lesbian/trans)

The Last of Us (wlw/lesbian) 

Mass Effect Series (mlm/wlw/gay/lesbian/bi)

Life Is Strange (wlw)

Overwatch (mlm/gay/wlw/lesbian)

Animal Crossing (pan)

Night In The Woods (pan/mlm/trans woman)

The Elder Scrolls (trans/wlw/lesbian)

Dreamfall Chapters (mlm/gay)

Dishonored: Death of the Outsider (wlw)

In the Outer Worlds (wlw/ace)

Elder Scrolls: Skyrim (mlm/wlw)

Fallout 4 (wlw/mlm)

Hades (mlm/bi)

Obviously this list is far from complete so feel free to add to it or let me know of anything else and I’ll edit the post to add it as long as you include the category it belongs to! Be sure to include what representation it has though otherwise I can’t add it!

[oakleaf--bearer]

this is my third ace jon fic, this time featuring a lot more projection, particularly around jon discovering what asexuality means

aka georgie tries to take the next step and jon learns a new word

also on ao3

-

Jon pressed play. He was curled up in bed, back against the headboard and cross stitch in his hands. It was a hobby he'd gotten into after his grandmother had become frustrated when he interrupted his television programs with his fidgeting. Give his hands something to do and he could pay attention for hours. Cross stitches were a pleasant distraction for his thoughts.

The theme song had just finished playing when Georgie came out of the bathroom. She blinked at him.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching that documentary I was telling you about." He pointed to the screen of his laptop. "Oh, did you want to watch it with me? I can start it again."

"No, that's okay." She said slowly, climbing onto her side of the bed.

He hummed and returned his attention to the screen.

"My housemates will be out all night." She whispered, curling against his side.

"You said."

"It's just us."

"Mmm."

She reached out and took the cross stitch out of his hands.

"Georgie-"

"Jon."  

"I'm watching-" He pointed to the screen. "I've been looking forward to this documentary."

She nuzzled against his neck. "It'll still be there."

"Yeah, but it's really interesting. This episode is about Dover Castle."

"Mmm. Sounds fascinating."

"It is, there's a Roman lighthouse there. The curtain wall, that's the bit around the outside, you know, the wall, it's a mile long. There was restoration work done on the keep, it's now fully decorated again. With original techniques, it was a whole thing- What are you doing?" She was rubbing gentle circles into his belly. It felt a bit like she was petting him like a cat.

Sighing, she sat back, closing his laptop and placing it on the bedside table, deaf to his sounds of protest. She clambered up, sitting herself on his lap. "What do you think I'm doing?"

"I don't know. If you wanted to cuddle, you could've said, I wouldn't have minded wearing headphones."

"Christ Jon, you're so oblivious." She lowered herself against him and Jon's brain suddenly caught up.

"Oh, oh no, I'm sorry, you wanted- Right, my mistake." He awkwardly put his hands on his hips. "I'll, you know, get to work, I suppose."

She snorted, shaking her head fondly. "Get to work?"

"No?"

"Not the usual phrase."

"What is the usual phrase?"

She leant forward and whispered something in his ear that made him blush furiously.

"Oh!" His voice came out as a squeak. "Oh? I see. Yes, okay, right."

She chuckled and leant down to kiss him, deep and slow, gently biting on his bottom lip. Jon just sort of sat there, letting her move (there was a shocking amount of moving) and trusting her to take the reigns, so to speak.

Apparently that was the wrong choice, because after a minute or so of kissing (and moving) she leant away from him. "You're still thinking about Dover Castle, aren't you?"

"No."

"Jon."

He ducked his head, a little sheepish. "I was thinking about Edinburgh Castle."

"Jon, your girlfriend is currently on top of you and you're thinking about Edinburgh Castle. Is everything okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Everything's fine! Sorry, I'm just distracted."

"Is this because I interrupted your documentary?"

"No, not that," He shook his head, then paused. "Well, sort of. I don't know."

"Come on, tell me what's happening in that big brain of yours?" She wriggled backwards until she was sat more firmly on his thighs, a safe distance from any potential distractions.

He tilted his head back, dropping it against the headboard. "I just didn't think this was going to happen tonight. I knew it would happen at some point, but I don't know. I wasn't expecting this."

"I invited you over to my flat while my housemates were out. What did you think was going to happen?"

He shrugged. "Not this, I guess."

Jon could see her mental cogs whirring away. "Jon, is this the first time anyone's done anything like this with you?"

He nodded. "Is that bad?"

"No, no, everyone takes things at their own pace, it's just-" She frowned. "I thought I was being obvious."

"You've told me extensively how oblivious I am."

"And I love you for that, but still. I thought I was being Jonathan Sims levels of obvious."

He shrugged, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of her shorts. "I didn't pick up on it. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologise, I just know to be even more obvious next time."

He blanched. "There will be a next time?"

"You don't want there to be a next time?"

"I've just... not considered it, I guess. It feels like a very big thing to discuss, and I knew it was going to come up at some point but I thought we would have more time."

"Are you nervous?"

He nodded. "Very much so. People make such a big deal out of having sex that I suppose I don't want to mess up."

"Mess up? Jon," Georgie laughed gently, stroking his face. "you won't mess up. It's not that big of a deal."

"Isn't it?"

"Not at all.

"But you like sex. People like sex. I'm going to like it, I just don't know how to-" He waved his hands. "I'm supposed to want to do this."

"Supposed to- Jon, if you don't want to then that's okay."

"But it's not fair to you for me to ask that you wait for me to get over my ridiculous hang ups."

Georgie shook her head. "Come on, let's talk about this tomorrow. Tonight is clearly not the night. Finish your documentary, I'm going to get some water."

Jon raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure?"

"More than."

"But aren't you-" He searched for the right words. "Don't you want to-"

Georgie grabbed his hand. "Jon, I love you, but do not finish that sentence, okay?"

"Okay."

A few days later he was sat at her kitchen table, a mug of coffee being pushed into his hands, grimacing about the smell. "I really don't understand why people like this."

"It's coffee."

"I'm aware."

Georgie gave him one of her 'I'm plotting something, play along' looks. "Lots of people like coffee."

"I know they do, I just don't get it."

"What don't you like about it?"

"The smell? The taste? Tea is just a far superior drink on all levels."

She leant forward over the table. "So there's not a single thing you like about coffee?"

He thought. "The warmth, I guess? If nothing else it's nice to hold. Comforting."

"Right."

"Right. What's this about?"

Georgie leant down to her bag and slapped a leaflet on the kitchen table. "Here."

"What's this?" He pulled the leaflet towards himself. The bright flashy words on the front read 'So You Think You're Queer?''. "Georgie, I'm bi. You know that right? We are well past this."

"Are we?" She asked. "Are you sure?"

"Is this about the other night? I know I'm attracted to women, I promise you I'm not gay."

"It's not that. I was just reading it when I was waiting for my appointment and I came across a bit that made me think of you. Particularly about the chat we had the other night." She took it out of his hands and flipped it open to one of the pages. "Here."

He stared down at the page she was holding out. "What- what is this?"

'Asexuality', the page announced. Georgie had clearly underlined it a couple of times. The page had a definition and a small chunk of text that Jon's eyes skipped right over.

"Georgie, what is this?" Jon looked up at her.

She was staring at him with an expectant expression. "Asexuality. It's the lack of sexual attraction."

He was already shaking his head. "No, I know I am attracted to you."

"Sexually?"

He paused. He knew Georgie was pretty, that much was clear. And she was funny, she always knew how to make him laugh. He liked spending time with her. He liked calling her his girlfriend. But as he tried to picture their relationship, each logical step of it, the part with sex was just... missing, he supposed. He couldn't picture it.

"But, I like you. I know I like you."

"You can like me without it being sexual. Warmth without the smell or the taste, right?"

Jon blinked at her, then remembered the coffee in his hands. "That's a drink. Did you just compare our relationship to a drink?"

"I knew if I thrust this onto you without some sort of metaphor you'd immediately panic. Make it weird or Jonathan Sims won't focus."  

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. But what do you think?"

He stared at the leaflet. It was a possibility. Georgie was nice, he liked dating her, but the thought of doing... that made him feel sick.

But people enjoyed sex. It seemed to be all people could talk about a lot of the time. If Jon didn't want that...

"Georgie, is there something wrong with me?"

"What?"

"Sex is normal, it's a thing normal people do. If I don't want it, surely that makes me-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there. Listen to me very carefully Jon." She took his hands. "Not wanting sex doesn't make you not normal. It just means you don't want sex. There isn't some preordained rule that says that sex is something everyone has to do. So you might be asexual, who cares? You're not broken. Being bi doesn't make you broken, why would this? It's just another label."

He gave her a small smile. "You're sure?"

"A thousand percent. Read the leaflet. If you agree with it, then we can do some more research. If not, then we can forget about this." She took the mug of coffee out of his hands. "Until then, let's not worry about that particular facet of a relationship."

"But what about your needs."

She gave him a look that would've been withering had she not been grinning ear to ear. "Jon, I have dated plenty of very crappy dudes who aren't nearly as considerate as you. I can look after myself. This just means I won't have to fake it."

"Fake it." He frowned. "Fake what?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"Oh! Oh good lord. Really?"

"Oh yes."

"How often?"

"More than you'd think. Some people just don't know their way around down there."

Jon felt somewhat lightheaded. "I doubt I'd be much better."

"Well like I said, we aren't gonna worry about that until you've done your homework. Don't fall into a guilt spiral over this. Remember, you're not broken, no matter how much of that you agree with." She pointed at the leaflet.

He nodded.

Over the next half an hour of reading the leaflet, then opening up his laptop and reading some more, Jon felt more seen than he had in years. A comforting sort of warmth settled into his stomach.

Asexual. Strange how one little word could make so much sense.

[nyctolovian]

Welcome to the Queer Beer Frontier

This is an incredibly self-indulgent word vomit of my sexuality/gender headcanons for TMA S1 Archival Gang. 

Summary: The S1 Archival Gang are all not cishet. That's the whole fic. 

Link to AO3

"Am I right, Jon?"

With eyes glazed over with intoxication, he looked up from his glass. "Huh?"

"Keira Knightley," Tim said, raising an eyebrow. "You're the only person I can turn to for this. The other two are useless in this regard."

"I don't… I don't get…" Jon frowned and glanced towards the other two at the table. Neither was of any help though, because Sasha merely stared at him silently with amusement twinkling in her eyes while Martin busied himself with… something under the table. "What are you talking about?"

"Aww... Doesn't he look adorable when he's confused?" Sasha said, turning to Martin, who sputtered and glared indignantly back at her.

Before Jon could even begin to decipher what just transpired, Tim threw his head back and groaned so loudly a giggly group of girls at the other table peered at him curiously. In a futile attempt to avoid any association to this scene, Jon scrunched his body to hide behind his (conveniently) bigger friends.

His escape attempt proved futile, however, when Tim threw an arm around Jon and tugged him closer. "We didn't invite you to drink with us just so you can sit there looking pretty, boss," he said.

"Wh—" Jon grunted affrontedly, brows furrowing. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand and tried to blink through his drowsy alcohol-induced haze. "I really don't—"

"I said, Keira Knightley is the very definition of hot," Tim drawled. "Don't you agree?"

Confusion crossed over Jon's features. "I suppose so."

"You suppose so?" Tim scoffed. "Alright, alright. Maybe she isn't your type. How about Tessa Thompson?"

Jon let out a non-committal noise as he pressed the rim of his glass against his lips. When no liquid hit his tongue, he blinked and looked into the cup.

Empty.

"Lucy Liu?"

Jon lifted his glass and looked around dazedly. "Does anyone—"

"What about Lucy Liu?"

"I really don't— My glass is empty?"

"Oh, sorry. Got distracted," Martin said, rubbing the back of his neck and slowly sliding out of his chair. "It's my round."

"I, well, yes, that'd be—"

Tim barged in with another question. "Okay, then, what about Anna Kendrick?"

"Not really."

"Not really?!" Tim yelled. "Alright, what about—"

"For god's sake, Tim, stop asking me these questions!" Jon groaned. "I'm too bloody ace for this."

Martin blinked at him, eyes owlishly wide with curiosity. "What do you mean?" he asked in a half-squat above his chair.

Jon's initially liquor-tinged face blanched. Suddenly it was show-and-tell in Year 2 all over again, eyes fixated upon him, as he struggled not to cry from stage fright. Except the topic today was far less innocuous than 'My Favourite Animal'. He ran a hand over his face.

Jon wished he could time-travel two hours back to throttle himself for accepting Sasha's invitation to drink. He should have gone home and taken a good long nap.

Unfortunately for him, he was stuck in this crap-hill of a situation. Jon gulped, looking everywhere but at his friends, as he tried to push Tim away. The silence was suffocating and he was pressured to fill it. "Fuck. I didn't mean to…"

Sasha leaned across the table. "Wait, you said you're ace? As in asexual?"

"I… uh, yes?" Jon shrunk into himself. "So what?" he hissed defensively.

Hands shooting up defensively, Sasha shook her head. "Oh, it's not like that! I'm also—"

Tim interrupted her with a whoop so loud that Jon had to yank himself out of his chokehold lest his eardrums burst. Martin had to leap off his chair and cover a hand over Tim's mouth to stop the hollering. Even then, he still did a whole lot of muffled yelling. "We're in public, Tim!" Martin chastised.

Tim tried to pull Martin's hand off, but to no avail.

"I'll take it off if you promise to stop yelling."

He rolled his eyes and nodded. As soon as Martin let go of Tim, however, he flashed the smuggest smirk and said, "So archiving is a gays-only event."

Martin let out a groan and Jon frowned in confusion. "What?"

"We honestly thought all this while you were homophobic," Tim said. "But turns out you're one of us."

Sasha raised her hand. "Disclaimer: I didn't think you were homophobic. Just uptight."

"But I..." Jon muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Wait, so you're all gay?"

"Alright, fellas," Sasha said, clapping her hands. "From the top! I'm aromantic heterosexual."

Tim dramatically placed a hand upon his chest. "And I'm the neighbourhood Bi-con!"

Nervously, Martin said, "Uh, no labels. But not straight."

Invitingly, Sasha gestured towards Jon.

He blinked. "Oh. Uh. Panromantic asexual. Um, and also nonbinary."

"Niiice," Tim said, patting his back hard. "I can't believe we took this long to figure this all out."

"I don't like assuming," Jon admitted.

"But I thought we were being incredibly obvious. Well, me and Martin were at least. We just thought you never mentioned because you were ignoring all of it on purpose."

Jon hummed. He had caught Tim flirting with a couple dudes who came to the archives before. Somehow, however, he had never registered those incidents properly and the idea that Tim wasn't straight had sailed past him entirely. He felt a bit stupid, thinking back right now.

He tried to recall an instance for Martin but drew absolutely nothing, however. "Was Martin very obvious?"

"Oh!" Sasha wheezed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Martin here is–" she slapped his back "— painfully obvious."

"Huh," Jon muttered. "I really never noticed."

"You really should," Tim said. "Oh, right. Isn't it your turn to buy us a round, Martin? Do you want to get some right now? While we talk to Jon."

The flush that overtook Martin's face made his freckles darken as he resolutely sat in his seat, beside himself with distraught.

"Alright, alright. Enough teasing," Sasha said to Tim. "Martin, I promise I will keep him in his place so just get us the round already."

After Martin's eyes darted from Sasha to Tim to Jon, then back to Sasha, he shot up from his seat with a huff. "I trust you, okay?" Then, he made a beeline for the bartender.

"Am I missing something?" Jon asked. "I feel like I am."

Sasha shook her head. "We're just all feeling pretty excited is all. It's not every day the notorious Jonathan Sims would come out to people."

"Notorious?" Jon wrinkled his nose. "From what I'm gathering, I'm not very welcome in this archival team. First, I'm homophobic and now notorious."

"Hey," Tim said, "you can't blame me for thinking you might be a homophobe. You don't exactly give off queer vibes."

"Aspec people like us don't really get much opportunity to be overtly queer," Sasha muttered, leaning back. "We're a low-lying bunch."

"Hey! But I could tell that you weren't straight. But Jon flew right under my gay-dar. And I'm usually really good at detecting comrades."

"Time to send that radar for repairs then," Jon replied with a smirk.

"You're not much better!"

"I never claimed to be good at detecting comrades."

Just then, Martin came back, and Jon was pleased to finally get more alcohol. With how much he'd been blabbing already, it felt like that kind of night.

After a while, Jon's head started spinning in what felt like cartwheels and somersaults. Drowsily, he placed his head on the regrettably grimy table. He watched the other three's back-and-forth for a while before suddenly stepping in. "Why no labels?" he asked Martin. "Just curious."

"Hm?" He straightened up. "Oh. Just… not too fond of being put into labels. None of the terms ever sit quite right with me for some reason."

"Fair enough," Jon muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. "I took ages before finding what felt right for me."

"How did you realise you were ace then?" Tim asked.

"Don't know. Just sort of always knew but didn't have a word for it. So when the word asexuality came along…" He waved his hand as though to say, "And the rest was history."

"Is it not liking sex?" Sasha asked. "I personally never really got what's so good about romance. I think it's just messy stuff if you ask me."

"Sex is… It's fine?" Jon winced. "I don't hold any strong opinions on the matter although I do sometimes find it quite fascinating."

"Jesus Christ. It's sex, Jon. Not some academic discussion," Tim scoffed.

He pouted.

"Then, how did you figure it out?" Martin asked.

"Oh. I, uh… It just felt like there was something everyone else seemed to have no trouble getting that I couldn't. Turns out that thing was sexual attraction." He shrugged. His eyelids were growing rather heavy. "I quite like being ace, you know that? I've never told that to anyone else," he slurred the admission.

"Are you tired, Jon?" Martin asked.

"Mhm."

"Do you want to take a nap?"

He nodded, rubbing his face against the wooden table. Sasha ran her fingers through his hair and he hummed, eyelids sliding shut.

Jon remembered how frustrated he used to be when he was younger. Curious and stubborn since he could remember, there was no way he would let this thing he couldn't understand simply slide under the rug. He remembered thinking he might be pansexual, but that didn't sit right in his chest. It took years of hunting down a proper answer and a couple more to acknowledge it.

Sometimes, Jon would mourn over the fact that he would never understand what on earth this "sexual attraction" thing was. Most of the time, however, he found himself quite comfortable in his own skin, finally able to categorise his experience. Now, asexuality was a label he embraced.

And it felt good knowing there were people close by who accepted him.

[ashdumpsterpile]

Jonathan sims bestie Jonathan sims

alskdfjalskdf sara ily <3

favorite thing about them

EVERYTHING.

Okay, okay for real though, one of the things I love about my man Jon is how soft he actually is. You start out thinking he's an uptight, grouchy dude with a stick up his ass (and he IS don't get me wrong), but little bits of a gentler/more complex side bleed through when Martin shows up hurt for the first time or when he discovers Not!Sasha. By the time we had the first seen with Georgie and Jon I was completely sold on this man.

least favorite thing about them

NOTHING. HE'S PERFECT.

favorite line

"Yes I know what a meme is."

Sorry this is just so funny to me. There are some BANGER lines this guy drops (AAA THE CEASELESS WATCHER ONE) but I laugh about this line every day sorry

brOTP

JonDaisy. Sometimes Jon + Georgie.

OTP JonMartin, but I love S1 Cast Polycule (Jon/Tim/Sasha/Martin)

nOTP

I'm going to get eaten alive, but JonElias. I don't hate it, but it's not my favorite.

random headcanon

besides my "he's sex positive ace" i have a headcanon that despite my favorite exchange between him and georgie ("I could be on drugs!"), he actually did use to do weed at university. with georgie probably tbh. sorry i will infect every favorite character of mine with a weed headcanon

unpopular opinion

He did nothing wrong. I don't know if this is unpopular, but it's True.

song i associate with them

how villains are made

favorite picture of them

Aaah clearly there's no canonical pictures, but I can link my favorite fanart!

Here

Here

Here

And Here!

send me a character and i'll answer the following above