#i just want tim and jon to became real friends

[just-an-enby-lemon]

The people are different versions but still exist in TMAGP and that absolutly is the one thing moving a very specific TMA AU.

Basically besides joining the Institute, Tim gets very into online supernatural foruns trying to find people with similar experiences. So one day he gets a mysterious mensage from someone about the "thing wearing my brother's skin". The e-mail is about a young lady that says something very similar happened to her and her uncle and she has been investigating similar stories since. They chat more and with Sasha advice Tim decides fuck it and meets the woman, both pretend it's a date.

Everything is well until Tim mentions working dor the Magnus Institute, she, who presented herself only by Gwen, pales and goes "oh you're one of them" and leaves after saying "I'm not playing his games. I'm not feeding him." Tim is very confused, he thinks maybe the Institue tried to investigate her case and failed. They are not in the archive yet so he asks Jon and Sasha with help without giving any detail, basically hoping Sasha conection with Gertrude means she has acess to the archives and Jon being way to into spending long nights working will help them sort whatever Sasha finds.

Except Sasha finds nothing. Until a random day were she comes up with a big grim and goes "you guys won't ever be abble to guess what I found out?" and open in a very funky web page advertising Gwendolyn Bouchard, paranormal lawyer. Sasha is laughting, Jon is ranting about what a paranormal lawyer would even be but Tim is like "oh shit, that's her".

He doesn't connect the dots at first. Or doesn't want to. But he keeps thinking about "I'm not feeding him" and he is like "random question what do you guys know about Elias" and Sasha goes research into it.

At this point he and Jon aren't close friends but they are friends and if their boss is one of the things that ate his brother he needs to figure out something. With the assumption Elias is a clown, Tim does actually notice how creepy Elias is with Jon and is fully "Jon won't belive me but Elias is totally into eating his insides or whatever". So he tells the truth to Sasha and tricks Jon into visiting Gwen's lawyer thing for answers.

I still did not figure out most of the other things, except that Alice and Gwen are together in this verse and Alice made the web design for Gwen's page. I also know I want alt Sam and I want just our Celia who keeps almost meeting them but never doing. Or even a Celia that came back and has a dificult time being at her world and interacting with different versions of people that mattered so much to her.

I don't know still what to do with Sam, because I think Martin was very clearly Jonah backup archivist and the thing is Elias will try to convince Jon Gwen is the crazy/evil one and either he'll suceed making Jon betray his friends and be the archivist but with different assistants (except Martin) or he won't and Martin will start as the archivist. And while backup archivist/archival assistant Sam makes sense I'm unsure I want that for him. I'm thinking maybe this version of Sam after failing to get into Oxford went into a "rebelious" phase instead of doubling down in trying to met his parents high expectations and ended up joining Melanie ghost hunting channel. But not sure.

Like if I actually go the route of Celia is back trying to find help for both her worlds a Sam that's not quite the Sam she knows/cares about would be interesting. Like he is deep down the same but also he isn't in some obvious ways and she might just miss her Sam more. But if this is an AU not as connected with Protocol than maybe a Sam that's pretty much our Sam but if he was in Archives would make sense. Idk.

And ofc Basira and Daisy that I'm always partial to but I have no clue how to add, except maybe with them starting as Gwen and Alice rivals because Gwen attorney bussiness interferes with their sectioned police work. Also Gwen being an attorney is a 100% because I fully think she was her normal manipulative rise to the top and keep the Bouchard's name girl and went into law school for it except she mets Alice and by the same period Jonah happens and she was close to Elias (even if in parts was because she looked better in the family eyes when they were together by comparison) and it changed everything.

I don't know a lot about Alice either but she was Lena's college roomate and atended classes with Colin (yes he is here as well, unsure what to do with him tho). She had a paranormal encounter that left a scar similar but in oposition to Georgie's where she has a "spider sense" sort of think and can feel when the fears are involved, she knows if a library or book fair has a Leitner and where for example. It happened when she was young and possibly involved meeting my boy Gerry but she tried to avoid the supernatural ever since. She was very reluctant over helping Gwen except she acidentaly overheard her talking to "Elias" and Jonah messed with her head. More importantly she knows that ignoring sometimes is worse because some secret involving her baby brother who may or may not have joined Grifters Bone and becamed a Slaughter Avatar.

The supernatural lawyer was a joke from Alice but Gwen took it seriusly and Alice was loke "really?" and guess this moron will need help to not die/became an avatar and became her paralegal (tho it had nothing to do with her actual college diploma).

[moonsanoverthinker]

Some more TMA headcanons because I’ve thought of some more. Also apologies if this list is a little more chaotic than the other one x (Here’s the first list I make incase anyone’s interested)

Also if people have their own that they’d want to add feel free to because I love reading other people’s x

There’s probably going to be some spoilers for but I’ve tried to keep it as broad as possible :) x

Tim used to steal Jon’s pens - Not because he needed them he did it to annoy Jon

Tim once hid a plastic spider in Jon’s desk then pinned it on Martin

Gerry liked to make puns, Gertrude didn’t like Gerry’s puns - Or at least she pretended not too

Peters changed the locks multiple times but Elias just keeps finding his was back in

Georgie has that really nice kind of swoopy writing - I kind of feel Sasha did as well

Distortion Micheal likes the animated Alice in Wonderland film - Can’t think why… (If I had any artistic talent I’d draw him as the Cheshire Cat but I sadly I don’t have any)

Melanie used to make loom band bracelets - She never gave them to anyone but she’d use specific colours with specific people in mind

Elias likes to shout peoples names then not answer them when they shouted back asking what he wanted

Jon owns a few packs of some nice playing cards (Like the ones with cool pictures and stuff) but no one’s allowed to use them - He let Tim use them once but after he slightly bent the corner of one they became off limits to them all

Jon drinks black coffee because it seems like the mature thing to do

Tim drinks the super sweet coffees because they taste nicer and look pretty

Elias has one of them big spinning office chairs - He’s definitely done the James Bond villain spin

Daisy once told Martin she knew a great place to hide his body - She then proceeded to leave notes around the archives to remind him - Jon would also take the notes down

Not necessarily a headcanon but I just imagine series 5 Jared Hopworth in the garden with a necklace of various body parts and bones

Occasionally Basira would just look out to the fourth wall - I’m imagining it like fleabag style

During their travelling Gerry brought Gertrude a mug from a tourist shop - She kept saying she didn’t like it but once she was back in the archives she would use it all the time

Just Jon wearing some sparkly green nail polish

On the topic of Jon’s nails imagine him with those pointy acrylics - He’d either be in his element or he’d have the same vibe as a dog trying to walk in shoes

Both Micheal and Helen just pinging rubber bands at the backs of peoples head (I’ve got no real explanation for why they do it but then again neither have they)

Jon appreciates badgers - He got a little desk calendar with different pictures of them every month

When Martin was staying in the institute Jon gave him a blanket. He took the blanket with him when he started living at home again and started using it

Tim kept every card Sasha ever gave him

Sasha has a little pot of fake flowers on her desk

Jon pretends to he surprised every time Martin gives him a present - Especially if it’s an out of the blue ‘I saw this and thought of you’ present

Sasha and Tim went ice skating together one Christmas - They claimed it was as friends but Tim did give her flowers

Also some random side notes - Slight spoilers for series 4/5

Listened to 170 and immediately started crying at the end / The descriptions in 172 made me feel physically ill as someone who really doesn’t like spiders / Also I saw a thing on TikTok where someone took Gerry asking to be called Gerry and paired it with I Bet On Losing Dogs by Mitski and it was more upsetting than I was expecting xx

[jayde-skye86]

On My Way To You 3

3 Supper with the Families and Breaking the News

After making a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a couple of food storage bowls and filling them each with food and water for Fleur so that she could eat as well. They were finally in the backyard, heading straight for the three picnic tables pushed together for everyone to eat off of, with food all in the center for everyone to pass around. All together, there were about 15 people others aside of Jon, Marinette and Chloe.

“Chloe, Marinette. Let’s introduce you to everyone before we sit and eat.” Uncle Jon spoke up as Marinette and Chloe came to stand next to him and Martha. “Chloe, I would first like to introduce you to my son Clark and his wife Lois Lane-Kent and their sons Conner and Jon, whom you’ve already met. We also have one of Clark’s cousin, Kara Danvers here for a visit.” 

Chloe smiled and shook the hands of everyone, murmuring soft, “Hellos” as she met everyone.

“Next we have Bruce Wayne. His sons you have, thankfully, already met.” Chloe and Marinette shook Bruce’s hand and smiled at Dick, Tim, Jason and Damian. Next to Damian was a young woman with black chin length hair. “Next to Damian is Cassandra Cain and Stephanie Brown, a dear family friend of the Wayne children. Finally, Alfred Pennyworth and Diana Prince.” Diana opted to give the two women each a hug. Feeling an instant camaraderie towards both of the young women.

Marinette glanced at Chloe, giving her a small nod, smiling. “ Bonjour , I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng and this is Chloe Bourgeois. It’s an honor to meet all of you.”

With that, everyone was told to sit down for supper. On one side sat Aunt Martha, Bruce, Diana, Alfred, Marinette, Chloe, Tim, Connor and Jason. On the other side was Uncle Jon, Clark, Lois, Kara, Jon, Damian, Cass, Steph and Dick.

Once everyone filled their plated, and they started eating, Alfred turned to Marinette and Chloe and asked them a question. “Please tell me, Miss Dupain-Cheng, Miss Bourgeois, did the boys treat you well on the drive here?”

“They were very kind and welcoming to us, Mr. Pennyworth. We became very comfortable with them.” Chloe replied gently.

“Please, Miss, call me Alfred. I insist.” Alfred smiled back.

“Only if you call us by our given names. It’s only fair.” Marinette smiled brightly, looking around with a hint of mischief in her eyes. “We talked quite a bit, we got to know each other a little better. It was very surprising that we met up the way we did. I would even go as far as calling it a real miracle.” At this, Marinette looked Alfred right in the eyes and gave a wink. Yes, she knew who he was . Marinette knew that he was one of Nooroo’s wielders. 

“It truly is miraculous, Miss Marinette.” Alfred chuckled, He would have to talk to her later to see if he can’t find out what happened to his old friend. He missed Nooroo very much. It could be a long shot. 

Marinette was looking around the table at everyone. Her eyes landing on Cassandra and Damian signing to one another. Se understood that all the Wayne kids aside from Damian were adopted or wards of Bruce Wayne’s but how was it that Bruce Wayne found the children that looked like they could actually be blood related. Did he go out of his way to look for these children? Or was it just coincidence that they all looked alike?

~~~~~~

After supper, Marinette approached her cousin, Diana, and Bruce. She knew that if she was going to reunite Alfred with Nooroo, then she had to break down and tell her cousin about her past as a superhero. She had a feeling that if her cousin was Superman, and Diana was Wonder Woman, then Bruce Wayne had to be Batman. That meant that she had 3 of the 7 founding members of the Justice League in one place for a whole week. It also was very likely that the entirety of the Wayne family was a part of the Bat fam. I would be hard to be around them for a whole week, without having them all find everything out by the end of the week. This was not how she wanted to break the news to Clark. But if it meant having the Justice League on her side, if, god forbid, there was another Hawkmoth-esque situation that ever came up. Then so be it.

She grabbed Chloe’s arm and dragged her along to go talk to the three older adults. Chloe gave her a questioning look. “I need you to trust me. I will explain to you about my actions later. But we need to talk to Clark about what happened in Paris right now.”

Chloe knew that if Marinette was willing to talk openly about Paris to someone, then it was for a good reason. “I will always trust you, Bug. You have never given me a reason to not put all of my trust in to you. Not after you gave me a second chance like you did.”

“Thank you” replied Marinette. “Clark. We need to talk to you, please. Along with Bruce and Diana if possible. It’s important, at least I think it is.”

“Of course Mari. What do you need?” asked Clark. Concerned that both young women looked uncomfortable all of a sudden.

Marinette sighed deeply. “There is no easy way to say this, Clark, without sounding either crazy or untrustworthy.” Clark started looking even more concerned and confused. 

“I know you, Mari.” Sounding more serious as Marinette continued to look at them with some fear. What the hell was going on? “You have nothing to be scared about from us. I will make sure of it.”

Marinette scoffed. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that, dear cousin. Tell me, Princess Diana of Themyscira.” Marinette looked at Bruce and Diana. Both as confused as her older cousin, but going into defense mode. How did she know, “What you know about Tikki, the Kwami of Creation?”

Diana grew very surprised at this. “Kwamis are Devine, beings of varying ideas and emotions. They also can give powers to humans to be used as heroes. At times, when the universe is in dire need of their help. My own mother was a user of Tikki’s centuries ago. It is said that one of the former rulers of Atlantis, was the holder of the Kwami of Destruction, at the time. How do you know Tikki? There must be great danger if she has made herself known to you. How can we help?”

“Hold it, you know who we are?” Bruce interrupted. “Just who, exactly, are you?”

“I knew that Clark was Superman most of my life.” Marinette smiled at Bruce, “it was a complete guess who you were, Monsieur Batman. I will not tell anyone who you are. I know the importance of keeping certain information to myself. We both will stay quiet.” Marinette turned, raising an eyebrow at Clark. “Though you really should think of a better disguise, seriously, glasses? Before I tell you who we are, would it be too much to ask if Jon and Conner, I know that they can hear us, can gather everyone in the house? I have a feeling it would be better for everyone if I just say this once. I will explain everything once we are with everyone.” She then turned, not waiting for a confirmation on if they wanted a bigger audience or not. To say that there was a lot of confusion and anger on the farm was a huge understatement.

~~~~~~

Once inside, the women were almost attacked by a blade. “Damian, stand down! We will hear them out.” Bruce ordered.

“I promised that I would speak once everyone was here. I despise liars, why would I become one now when I could very likely save the lives of people that might need to be saved later? If telling you stops what I have been told is coming, then I will speak to you all to save the lives of everyone. I don’t want what happened in Paris to happen to more people. The very world that we know is in danger. It's crazy, chaotic but so beautiful to behold. Why would I want it to go through torture when I am able to do something to save it?"

As Marinette spoke, everyone gathered back in the kitchen. Marinette sighed as she looked at Chloe. Knowing that she needed the rest of her team here. It was only right that if she was going to tell their story that she has them with her. “I need the rest of the team here.” The rest of the group that had gathered around the two women protested.  “This is not up for debate. If I am going to tell you the story of how we became a team, then I need them here, it is only fair to my team. Chloe, I’m sorry to bail on you for a moment, but could you stay with them for a moment?” 

“Of course Bug.” Chloe nodded. Chloe used her phone to send a group message to let Adrien, Kagami, and Luka know that they needed to transform because Mari was going to get them. “I hate that it came to this, but I will follow you always.”

“Thank you for your trust in me.” Marinette takes two charms off of her bracelet. They were pretty, yet deceptively plain. One was a horseshoe made out of polished jasper. And another that was a red tiger eye shaped like a butterfly. Taking the butterfly, she cupped it fully within her hand, “ Gǎibiàn Nooroo,” With that the red tiger eye turned into a purple and white jeweled butterfly pin. Marinette walked to Alfred, handing him the pin with a smile on her face. “I Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Grand Guardian of the Miraculous, give you Alfred Pennyworth permission to wield Nooroo the Kwami of Transmission, do you swear to use him for good until the day that I ask for him back?”

Alfred gasped, he then bowed deeply. “This I so swear, Guardian. It would be a great honor to be around my old friend once again.”

Marinette put her hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “Thank you, Alfred. I will tell you why later, but Nooroo needs someone that respects and loves him more than you currently know. What we have to say will directly involve Nooroo.” With that, she turned almond and walked away with the horseshoe now cupped in her hands. “ Gǎibiàn Kaalki.”

Kaalki appeared in front of Marinette, “Guardian, how may I help you?” 

“I need you to bring me to the rest of the team. We will need to bring them here. I have apples for you in Tikki’s pocket dimension. Tikki spots on, Kaalki full gallop. Unify.” With that, Marinette transformed into her Pegabug suit. It was now black with a few red dots scattered around the suit, with a white horse shoe around her neck. Her hair still in a high, slicked-back ponytail. She still had the white front, with Black and white gloves and gradient red and white legs that finished the look. Turning back around to fully face the group once again. “I will be back in roughly 15 minutes, then we can continue our conversation. I leave the choice up to you on if you want to reveal your identity to them, Chlo.”

“How can we trust you?” asked Tim, not so politely.

“You don’t. But the truth is that I’m leaving one very important member of my team behind. If I meant to use this as an opportunity to escape. Then I have told her to come with me.” Marinette sighed, “Voyage.” A portal opened up showing a midnight view from a Parisian rooftop. Marinette walked through the portal as 3 figures approached from a distance.

 As soon as Marinette walked through, the portal closed. “Right, so I guess I should formally introduce myself. Pollen, Buzz on.” Chloe transformed in front of them. She was now wearing a black bodysuit that had a gold and black breastplate, she had gold stripes on both of her biceps and just above her knees. “I am Reine Abeille. Or Queen Bee, if you prefer. I am one of the heroes of Paris.” Knowing that there were going to be a bunch of repeat questions were about to be asked.

“Before you ask, yes, there are heroes in Paris. We have been protectors of Paris for 8 years now. Any other questions can wait until Ladybug comes back with our team.” Chloe spoke with all the confidence that she could gather. For once, she was not all that confident in what she had to do.

~~~~~~

There I think that is a good place to stop for the time being. I am trying to get into the habit of writing at least 500 words a day. so that when I start my new job I will be able to continue posting at least something once a week minimum. That's the goal.

here's a little bit of a background info on the gemstones for the miraculi in this fic. First off I thought it would be an interesting idea for Marinette to make the Miraculous Box into a charm bracelet so that she could keep them on her at all times. There is a meaning for each gemstone that I picked and as each kwami that is needed I will pick a different gemstone for them.

Here are the meanings for Nooroo and Kaalki.

Red Tiger Eye for Nooroo (Insight, confidence, and strength) Marinette wants to build up Nooroo's confidnce and strength after he was abused by Hawkmoth.

Jasper for Kaalki (guidance, balance, and independence)

Translation:

Gǎibiàn (Transform) Mandarin

[influenzalake]

Batfam and Superfam as Marina songs part 2

Bruce: Handmade Heaven

"I envy the birds high up in the trees, they live out their lives so purposefully, I envy the spiders, the squirrels and seeds, they all find their way automatically... 

And I could no longer ignore, the ivy growing tall, this life don't suit me anymore, the writing's on the wall..."

Selina: Can't Pin Me Down

"You can paint me any color and I can be your clown, but you ain't got my number, no you can't pin me down...

You ain't got me sussed yet you're not even close, baby it's the one thing that I hate the most, all these contradictions pouring out of me, just another girl in the 21st century..."

Dick: Blue

"Gimme love, gimme dreams, gimme a good self esteem, gimme good and pure, what you waiting for? Gimme everything, all your heart can bring, Something good and true I don't wanna feel blue anymore...

Gimme one more night one last goodbye, let's do it one last time let's do it one last time one more time..."

Jason: Karma

"Heartbreaker real faker, getting off on bad behavior... 

You're only sorry when you're coming down down down....

Don't be sorry when it comes around, I'm like Oh My God I think its karma...

And when the world comes crashing down, it won't save you, all of the money in this town, it won't save you, won't save your reputation now, it won't save you..."

Tim: Solitaire

"Don't wanna talk anymore I'm obsessed with silence,  I go home and I lock my door I can hear the sirens, I see buildings and bars from the window and I listen to the wind blow, I see people and cars covered in gold and I'm happy to be on my own...

Watch my life unfold all around me like a beautiful garden, I see flowers so tall, they surround me, Oh, my heart, it became so hardened..."

Damian: Living Dead

"Everyday I feel the same stuck and I can never change, sucked into a black balloon spat into an empty room...

Got bubble wrap around my heart waiting for my life to start, but everyday it never comes permanently at square one...

I haven't lived life, I haven't lived love, just bird's eye view from the sky above, I'm dead, I'm living dead..."

Clark: True

"Everybody tells us what to do, think they always know what's good for you, we know they don't really have a clue...

'Cause you don't need nobody else, when you are true, true to yourself...

Always said we're gonna be true we will never change we will never change, they could never do it better than when we are together..."

Lois: Man's World

"Clouds in the whites of our eyes we saw it all, burnt me at the stake you thought I was a witch, centuries ago, now you just call me a bitch...

If you have a mother daughter or a friend maybe it is time you comprehend, the world that you live in ain't the same one as them, so don't punish me for not being a man...

Spring appears when the time is right women are violets coming to light, don't underestimate the making of life, the planet has a funny way of stopping a fight....

I don't wanna live in a man's world anymore..."

Jon: The State of Dreaming

"Living on their last hope, I live my life inside a dream...

All I really want is to be wonderful, people in this town they, they can be so cruel...

If only you knew my dear, how I live my life in fear, If only you knew my dear, how I know my time is near...

Yeah, I've been living in the state of dreaming, living in a make-believe land...."

Conner: Valley of the Dolls

"Born with a void, hard to destroy with love or hope, built with a heart broken from the start, and now I die slow...

In the valley of the dolls we sleep, got a hole inside of me, living with identities, that do not belong to me...

Back to zero here we go again, racing down into oblivion Back to zero, here we go, I can feel it coming to the end, the end..."

[comphetkoncass]

intro scene to the DCYJ fixit fic im writing. bc kon being angsty abt dying in that series doesnt make sense, but giving him 'the world moved on w/o you' trauma fits soooo much better. especially since his lines about "you want to go back to the real world? the one where i died? you think that world was so much better than this world where we get to be heroes in our glory days?" doesnt even make sense since the current 'real world' is, uh, the world where kon never even existed... cant die if you never existed, idk what to tell you

///

The statue of Superman at the Justice League is giving Kon whiplash, because he’s pretty sure he used to have one that looked almost identical. Same material, similar pose, similar size. But this one is Superman – in a way, it reminds him of the future that never was. The one where he eventually became Superman, himself, instead of the mantle getting passed onto Jon, because of course it would pass onto Jon – Kon didn’t exist in this timeline until this year. ...Plus, that Kon-El Superman  went evil, so. Maybe best to leave this all to Jon.

The Superman memorial statue stands next to several others. The Justice League assembles once more just to reflect the bright sunny day off their gold silhoettes – and it's a perfect atmosphere for a funeral, he thinks sarcastically.

But in the bright, overwhelming brightness, for a second, Kon truly sees the statue as his own memorial statue. Reality shifts again, then, and it’s back to being Superman. 

He still feels dazed. Dizzy. 

Cassie reaches for his hand, and it grounds him. Kon lets out a breath, and now it’s hard to imagine he ever saw himself in this stupid memorial. 

It’s funny. Remembering his own statue, Kon should really be more traumatized by dying. And he totally was, he won't deny it messed him up – but the thing is, trauma sort of has a recency bias. And losing his entire dimension, having the world re-written without him, knowing none of his friends remember him – that’s also right up there with dying. Top ten worst moments of his short existence, and the list is pretty damn competitive. And it happened within the last year, compared to not actually remembering how long ago he died anymore.

He remembers the day and time, but who knows when it would've been in this dimension, seeing as it never happened at all. Can't die if you never existed.

Besides... However bad dying was, even if he never really processed that one or told his friends about it – at least his friends had been there for him afterwards. And at least his friends had grieved him. It's selfish (and Kon feels bad, but not that bad; he's always been little selfish with his friends' affection) – but he misses knowing they grieved him. Because it was solid, concrete proof that they’d loved him, that they'd missed him. Missed him to the point of real, genuine mental health crises, sure, and there's a lot to unpack about the particular ways Tim and Cassie grieved – but there was no questioning that they cared. That he had mattered enough to care about. 

...In this world, he didn’t even exist. 

His friends remember grieving him, now that they’ve met him. The spark is there; the realities crashed together and now his friends just remember two timelines. But that doesn’t change that there’s a timeline where he was never there at all. 

Sometimes, he wonders. With the amount of grief he gave them, do they look more fondly on the one where they never had a Superboy to mourn?

Cassie squeezes his hand again, forcing his attention outward. He must not react enough, because she bumps her shoulder against his, leans up and mouths 'Are you okay?'

Even Bart and Tim are looking his way now. Way to make a JLA funeral about you, Kon, he thinks. He gives a quick thumbs up, and tries to stop zoning out. There are speeches, after all. He should probably be taking notes on the eulogies. Given how the hero community keeps dying, he'll probably have to start writing them soon. If he doesn't get his own first, he thinks. If he even gets one. He hasn't left much of an impression yet.

Selfish, he thinks. Got to stop being selfish. Roll with the punches. This is the real world now. Considering it was rewritten without you in it, you should probably just be thankful to exist at all.

The speech ends, and Kon joins his hands together to clap along with the rest of the world.

[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.) 

________

[the-witches-you-couldnt-burn]

It started with a whisper

I originally wrote ‘Like I did with you’ as a one-shot but people wanted a sequel. This turned out to be waaaaay longer than expected (4.7k word count). Inspired by Everybody Talks by Neon Trees. I hope you lot enjoy!

Ao3

(Also this is Mari’s new outfit, all credits go to the original artist)

————

Two teens stood upon the balcony of a large banquet hall, exposed to the midsummer night air. The sky was a lilac blanket that hung over the Parisian buildings, speckled with glowing stars. The moon, with it’s crescent smile, beamed down of the young couple.

Hey, baby, won't you look my way?

Marinette’s eyes were closed as she rested her head upon his shoulder, relaxing after the night’s rapid escalation. Tonight she had arrived at the ball with the intent to be there for her friends, but somehow she found herself within the arms of Gotham’s (and probably Paris’) Ice Prince. She had overheard his nickname from the Gotham students, one of which being Jon, who was in the middle of mocking the young Wayne. She had never considered that nickname as suitable; sure he was temperamental & had a tendency to snap, but icey to the core? No.

I can be your new addiction

Damian was calm. For the first time in his life he felt like he could take a breath. His exhale was carried off by a small gust of wind, the bush over hanging the stone railing rustled. With his inhale, the scent of Marinette’s perfume became present once more. Mixed with the crisp night’s air, her usual scent of pastries was mixed with what could only be described as ambrosia. His phone vibrated within his pocket, it was never on volume due to the potential risk it caused during his heroic activities.

“Shit.” Notifications covered his screen, multiple tweets, Instagrams and Tiktoks in which he had been tagged in. But the alert came from his family’s private messaging chat. The whole thread was a shit storm, Grayson and Todd’s messages were completely capitalised (he learnt years ago this meant ‘to yell’ in writing form) and both had multiple ‘keyboard spasms’. Drake, like the thorough detective he is, had combed through the images and videos, investigating their validity. His honorary sisters had replied with ‘awwwww’(s) and ‘Omg we MUST meet this girl! I need to know how she tamed the demon!’. He could practically hear Brown’s shrill voice from across the ocean.

Hey, baby, what you gotta say?

No reply from his father or Alfred. The two of them were the only semblance of ‘normal’ paternal figures he had within his life, after the sham of a relationship he had previously held with his grandfather. Their silence unnerved him.

Marinette had noticed his attention had shifted to his phone, her own mobile was buzzing away within her baby pink purse. Messages, notifications of account tagging and comments galore. A sigh left her lips when she saw her parents seemed to be none the wiser. Good, she didn’t need to deal with future adoration for ‘The boy who swept our daughter off of her feet’ (or something along those lines).

Her cheeks regained some of the warmth they held before as she thought of her parent’s reaction. Scrolling through her Twitter she saw her friends had posted multiple images of the night’s events, majority being her shared dance.

Chloé Bourgeois @TheBestBourgeois

what kind of Disney shit is this? (Insert video of two teens dancing around an mostly empty dance floor.)

Alix Kubdel @Sk8trGirl

Replying to @TheBestBourgeois

I KNOW RIGHT?! THEY WERE FUCKING FLOATING!!!

All you're giving me is fiction

She was thankful that they hadn’t tagged her but she hadn’t been spared by others in attendance. Her post thread had blown up, thousands had commented and even more had viewed the evidence. There was no way she would come out of this unscathed.

“Has anyone been on Twitter today?” The blonde of the family asked as she walked into the dining room. Her eyes focused on her scrolling screen, brows furrowed in confusion. “Actually has anyone seen what’s happening on any of our socials?”

It was early in the afternoon and the family had recently returned home after a straining stakeout. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and the Batfam had to deal with his minions. Dick’s arm was in a sling (sprained from a grapple gone wrong), Jason was icing his hand, Alfred was stitching Bruce’s chest wounds while Tim and the girls escaped without severe injuries. All were still recuperating and finally able to recharge.

Alfred always enforced a strict ‘no devices at the dinner table’ rule; no matter how urgent it was, it could wait until after sustenance was consumed. Tim strongly opposed this, but there was no arguing with Agent A. This all surmises that probably no one had seen the crap storm on social media.

I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time

Bruce sighed, bringing his free arm up to rub his eyes. Tilting his head back to look at Steph, “Who was it this time?” Barbara quickly took out her phone to see what Stephanie was talking about, all the while glancing accusingly at Dick and Jason. Both of whom held up their arms (or in Dick’s case arm), declaring their innocence.

“It wasn’t fucking me!”

“Jason! Language!” Dick shot a glare at Jason and was met with one in return. “It wasn’t me either.”

“Then who-“ Bruce started before being cut off by his most rambunctious daughter.

I found out that everybody talks

Stephanie with a squeal, exclaimed that it was Damian. Visions of what the Wayne brat could have done flashed through the heads of everyone in the room. He had been sent overseas before the quarantines and lockdowns hit. During Damian’s first month in France he had been forced into online schooling and then finally when he got to go to in-person classes he hated it. Described the class as a kindergarten with petty and vindictive toddlers.

Had he broken someone’s arm? Was that person of such importance that it had spread over multiple social media platforms? France’s government had announced on June 15th, that teens were now being inoculated so him having COVID-19 was doubtful. Had he insulted the wrong person? Had he taken over the government? He certainly had the potential.

Everybody talks, everybody talks

What they saw stunned them, even Steph as she watched it for the 7th time. Damian Wayne was dancing. But not only that, he was dancing with a girl.

It started with a whisper

“What is this shit?”

No one verbally objected to Jason’s outburst but he was sent a harsh glare from Alfred, Dick and Bruce. Their focus soon returned to the images and videos before them. Babs’ and Steph’s phones were returned to them as the others ran to grab their own devices. They all met back at the table, comparing the posts and comparing their notes.

I can hear the chitchat

“There’s no way this can be real.”

“Jesus Tim,” Barbara rolls her eyes, “have you seen the amount of posts there are? You’d be an idiot to think otherwise.”

Take me to your love shack

“I’m with Tim, how do we know this isn’t some skit. I mean, Demon Spawn almost looks normal. That’s a matter of concern.” He almost dry heaved when he agreed with Tim. Damian couldn’t be capable of naturally exuding that amount of humanity unless there was something in it for him.

Mamas always gotta backtrack

“I was just saying Babs, that we should check the credibility of these images. For all we know they could be gorilla glued together and trying to get unstuck.” Tim cringed at his own reasoning, he really needed to either sleep (probably not going to happen anytime soon) or find his favourite coffee brand (which had been one of the first to vanish after the covid hoarders appeared).

When everybody talks back

Dick was too busy freaking out and spam messaging the youngest Wayne, to defend Damian’s humanity. The family saw this and followed suit, wanting to get information from the source.

Chat name: Alfred supremacy

BigBird: AHHHHHH DAMIAN!

BigBird: YOU LOOK SO CUTE!!!

BigBird: HAIFJDNDNFI

LittleWing: WTF HAPPENED DEMON SPAWN YOU LOOK ALMOST HUMAN

Babs: who knew the city of love would influence the brat

Blondie: they are so cuteeeeeee!

Blondie: We HAVE to meet her!

Silent-but-deadly: agreed.

Timbo: YO DEMON

Timbo: Apparently the videos are legit

Timbo: are you being blackmailed?

And it just devolved into more chaos from there, fueled by the fact that they saw Damian’s ‘Blood Son’ account appear online before vanishing once more. Dick shrieked, “I FOUND HER ACCOUNT!”

The family gathered around the eldest son, peering over his shoulder to view his iPhone 12max screen. They saw a young girl’s Instagram account. It was locked but they could see her profile pic, the girl had black hair and looked to be if Asian decent. They compared it to the videos but it was hard to see due to the hall’s lighting and the minimised facial features of the pfp. Alfred suggested that they search up her username and see who has tagged her, some might have other photos of her.

After research for awhile, the family began to get frustrated with lack of results.

Hey honey you could be my drug

You could be my new prescription

“Come on!” Jason complained, “What kind of teenage girl doesn’t post her life online?” He ignored the girls glares and went back to researching. How had the account by the name of ‘mariiiiinette’ to managed to prevent the entire Wayne clan from accessing it? Damn Instagram privacy settings. He groaned, dragging a hand down his face, “We are fucking stupid. Why don’t we just use the Bat-computer? It would be so much fucking easier.”

“It shouldn’t be used for civilian issues-“

Too much could be an overdose

“The girl could be a meta for all we know! We aren’t safe until we know who she is.” Jason points a finger at Tim, his paranoia flared up and even though he would never admit it, Jason would do anything to protect each member of his family (although Bruce is still debatable).

All this trash talk make me itching

Barbara and Tim took their usual positions as Oracle and Red Robin (who had been banned from patrol due to lack of sleep). The rest of the Batfam stood behind them either with arms crossed or still failing at researching.

Oh my my shit

“The account is owned by a girl called Marinette Dupian-Cheng. She is French-Chinese and her parents own a popular bakery. Also if it wasn’t already obvious, she goes to Collège Françoise Dupont, aka Damian’s French school.” Tim begun informing his nosy family, “But this account has been inactive for the past 6 months, which is strange due to her frequent posting schedule before hand. It seems she probably has a second account and this is her old one.”

Everybody talks, everybody talks

“Not only that,” Barbara interrupted. “There are unopened messages from other accounts that accuse her of being a bully. There is a whole Facebook page about this girl and how she has been hurting her old friends, but neither side seems reliable. The so called victims seem to be twisting the truth but there is barely any information about Marinette so we can’t disprove it either.”

“Read out some of the messages.” Bruce took a cup of coffee from Alfred and sipped it.

The main screen of the bat computer displayed a Facebook group with the banner picture being a photo of Marinette. “They are mostly complaints expected of teen girls when there is a girl they don’t like; ‘Marinette is such a know-it-all’, ‘She is constantly insulting Lila’s intelligence’. They go on to talk about how Marinette was briefly expelled from the Collège before being reinstated by the principle for a reason unknown to them.”

Everybody talks too much

“Her school reports up until this year were good. The newest one states, ‘While Marinette is a wonderful and bright student, I encourage her to settle her disagreements outside of class. This seems to only be a recent occurrence and I implore her to go to the guidance council if she is in need of help.’” A beat of silence echoes through the cave, Tim sighed. “Jason’s meta theory could be correct. She could have just recently started exhibiting her abilities and using them to get what she wants.”

“Bruce what do you want to do?”

“We’re going to Paris.”

She opened her eyes to the blaring morning light that streamed through the blinds. Her lashes still painted with mascara that refused to leave. She felt a pang of sorrow when she was removing her makeup and dress last night, she never wanted the night to end. She shuffled down the stairs to the kitchen, covering her mouth when she yawned. She greeted her mother as she entered the kitchen to get breakfast.

She glanced at her phone and there was the chaos that was started hours ago and it was still occurring. It was the weekend, she wouldn’t need to deal with her classmates until Monday. But she would still have to survive her parent’s interrogation. Out of the corner of her eye she caught her mother smirking at her.

Everybody talks

“Nadja told me some interesting news about last night.” Marinette held her breath, glaring at the toaster, willing it to hurry up so she could escape. “Well,” Sabine patted her shoulder before rubbing Mari’s back. “I know you didn’t want to go but I hope you had fun.”

With that she exited the kitchen, probably going to help her father in the bakery. The ravenette stared after her, eye widened in shock, jumping when the toaster went off. Buttering her toast she went over the conversation, her brows furrowed in confusion. She had expected a ‘When do I get to meet the oh so famous prince?’ or ‘Should I be expecting a new guest sometime in the near future?’ or at least a ‘Who was that young man, Bǎozàng (宝藏 it means treasure)?’ But she said nothing.

A small smile was plastered upon her face as she changed and went down to help her parents in the bakery. Her father didn’t say anything either, he gave her a knowing smile before continuing to kneed the dough. She sat at the the store front as the cashier whilst her parents were busy making ‘Paris’s Finest Pastries’.

Her musings slowly faded as she was brought back to reality by badly hushed whispers. Two young preteens were by the bread roll casing near the door. She had seen them come in before with their parents, the girls went to the prestigious international school over in the 16th arrondissement. The one with purple hair kept whispering to the brunette, both ‘subtly’ glancing towards her. Using her enhanced hearing she listened in on their conversation.

“That’s her, I swear that’s her in the video.”

The blonde’s face soured likes she sucked on a lemon. “No, it wasn’t good lighting there is no way he would dance with someone like her.”

Everybody talks

Marinette had tough skin but their words had an impact, only a small one due to her defence mechanism of repressing emotions. She stopped listening and went back to drawing in her sketchpad, she was in desperate need of a new school outfit.

The two girls eventually came up to the counter, goods in hand. Marinette rung up and bagged their items (paper because save the turtles sksksk) in a tired daze. A phone was shoved into her face, her eyes barely adjusted to view the screen before the blonde spoke.

“Is this your instagram?” She asked in a tone so snobbish that it should be illegal from a person her age. Marinette finally was able to view the screen that was barely an inch from her face. Her old Instagram ‘mariiiiinette’ was displayed on screen, she hesitantly nodded, gaze flicking back to the two in front of her.

The blonde’s nose scrunched up and the purple goth girl squealed in delight. They soon after left the store, their conversation had devolved into ‘See! I told you’ and ‘Yeah, yeah. You were right.’

Walking to school on Monday, she had finally come down from cloud nine. She still rode the tail end of her high as she rushed along her path to her campus, she wasn’t going to be late but she sure wasn’t going to be early. She had spent the better part of the weekend designing and sewing a brand new outfit. Her new look was composed of a black cropped singlet (L'amour gagne hemmed into it and it’s straps), paired matching peach plaid cropped overshirt and a-line miniskirt. Her hair was down, ballet flats were worn and her makeup was the usual with the added edition of a rose gold eyeshadow.

Even though her face was covered in a black and gold mask, she looked hot.

She reached the campus and the whispers started again, people were still buzzing from Friday night. Her classmates, the majority of her grade and the younger years seemed to gossiping before class about the formal’s events. She couldn’t spot any of her friends or the two Gotham transfers, so she was stuck listening the the chitchat. Why couldn’t she have been late like usual?

Damian had a fowl disposition and it showed in multiple icey glares (and that was before he even reached the collège). His family had made their appearance known in Paris at 1am Sunday morning. He could have used his dorm to escape but his family didn’t have the word ‘privacy’ within their vocabulary. He didn’t want to have to pay for a lock replacement due to his brothers’ (most likely Todd with Drake & Grayson laughing at him) lock picking habit.

The Ice Prince was back with full force. He had just been... influenced by all the other couples. Yes he did respect Dupain-Cheng and he appreciated her company & pleasant conversations. He would struggle to hide a small smile at the memory of the dance, even if he denied himself the happiness of normality, he felt content when reminiscing.

“Ooo the Ice Prince is here, did he have a fight with his princess or something?” The voice seemed to mock him.

“The Disney Magic is gone. The demon is back.”

Everybody talks

At the second jeer he shot a glare at the perpetrator. Jon held his hands up in an ‘I surrender manner’, laughing as he joined Damian at his side. The two entered the school’s large foyer and looked to see if any of the classes were open yet. Sadly they weren’t, before he was wrong and the his class was plain torture but this was truely hell.

He saw Dupain-Cheng sitting alone on the stairs, drawing within her sketchpad. He wondered how a girl like her, who always seemed to be involved in other’s lives (for the better) was ignoring all of the comments about her. She felt his focus centre on her, eyes flicking up to meet his, she provided him with a small wave before continuing to draw.

Jon nudged him with an elbow to his ribs and dragged him off to the side, into the boy’s locker rooms. Jon scowled at the door, “It’s a mad house out there. You’ve heard what some people are saying right?”

“Why would I care about these imbeciles?”

Jon jabbed Damian in the chest, causing the demon to stumble. Green eyes darted from blue eyes to the tan finger. “You care when lies hurt people you care about.”

The day began to rapidly decline once the two dance partners took their seats, next to each other. They had both been placed up the back of the class and them sitting together hadn’t been a problem until now apparently. She wasn’t even safe when the teacher started their lecture, whispers and glances were cast towards them. Once the two got to biology it was better, Ms Mendeleiev was a strict teacher and was able to control the class.

Everybody talks

But the recess came. When the bell rang she slowly started packing up her equipment, Alix and Max (who she shared biology with) waited for her; she watched as the Ice Prince left through the door. She knew she didn’t need to be concerned about her friends joining in with the gossiping, if anything they would dispel people and tell them to ‘Mind their own fucking business’ because this whole situations is ridiculous, utterly ridiculous.

She did receive some slight teasing from Alix about being a Disney princess, but Marinette quipped back about the skater’s fairytale story being ‘Pinknette, the Geek and the Beast’. The three met up with the other two of their group, they had just come from geography. Kim was complaining that Argentina was a state in America.

“That’s Arkansas you idiot!” Chloe shrieked, lightly hitting his arm with her white handbag. Max held his head in his hand as he approached, how had his tutoring sessions failed so badly?

Chloe turned to Marinette, a smile forming from her glare. The blonde examined the designer’s clothing, nodding. “You look like you are about to have a hot girl summer.”

Marinette’s face burned, the tips of her ears coated in red. Alix chuckled and nudged her shoulder.

Everybody talks

“Look at her, she is so desperate for his attention that she probably copied those designs.”

“Why do you think he danced with her anyways? Maybe she has something on him? I mean, she forces him to sit next to her in class, who knows what else she has done.”

What. The. Fuck.

Chloe glowered towards Lila’s posy. “We have a fucking seating plan, those cretins-“ She made a motion to storm over but was caught by the ravenette, looking back to Mari, her rage decreased from a boil to a simmer.

“No Chlo. It’s fine, it’s not worth it.”

Everybody talks... back

The group walked out to the school’s front steps, it was a mad house... a mad courtyard? Students sitting on the stairs, on the grass and standing around mingling, all of them now were staring at her. She held her backpack close to her chest (she had swapped her signature coin-bag purse for the pastel pink bag), pretending its a shield. Her friends circled around her becoming an obstacle to prevent their stares. If people were afraid of a scowling Kim then they don’t know the scorn of Chloe or Alix’s bite. And Max, sweet quiet Max.... you better hope he doesn’t have blackmail on you (he probably does), he can dismantle your life with a single anonymous post.

Rushed footsteps approached them. The group was broken apart by a rude Wayne boy, he swept Mari away from the school and the gossip crowds within. Her four friends shouted at him and he kept walking, shooting a glare at them in response. He kept pushing Marinette forward with a hand placed on the small of her back, her backpack was now swung over his other shoulder.

They ended up in her favourite alcove. She had brought him here with the other Gotham transfers for a native’s tour of Paris. It had always been her safe place to be creative.

It started with a whisper (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“My apologises for our rushed departure but you seemed to want to get out of their anyhow.” His gruff tone danced through the silence, his head still peaking around the corner; watching for any unwelcome guests.

“Thank you.” She whispered, her voice almost being carried off by the gentle wind. A genuine smile illustrated upon her face.

“We weren’t able to converse after the events of the other night. I would like to formally apologise once more for my actions causing this adverse reaction. If I had kn-“

“You don’t need to apologise!” She squeaked, hiding her eyes behind her fisted hand. Her shoulders curled inwards as she tried to make herself seem as small as possible, a side effect of her common use of her secondary miraculous form: Multimouse.

“I chose to dance with you, you don’t need to apologise for my own actions.” He stared at her with confusion. He had taken the blame so she wouldn’t need to do so herself; but she had taken it anyways. He had given her an out. Why does she always take the blame, even for things out of her control?

“But if I hadn’t danced with you then you wouldn’t have been the focus of the entire school.”

Marinette stepped forward, her eyes hardened and blazing. “Damian Friday night I went there out of obligation to my friends, I didn’t want to be there. But dancing with you? That was the highlight of my week, probably my month too. I enjoyed our time together.” Her face softened, lips twitched downwards ever so slightly. “I don’t regret anything about that night, but do you?”

He was bad at comfort. Everyone in his family avoided him when they were in need, he plainly didn’t know what to do. She wasn’t visibly upset but he sensed that she is disappointed that he apparently didn’t share the same opinion of the night. The only thing he regretted about that night was letting Jon call him a coward, but then again if he didn’t he never would have danced with Dupa- Marinette.

He picked up her clenched hand, the tension in her body alleviated at his embrace. He remembered how Grayson would apologise to Kor’i or how his father interacted with Ms Kyle. He brought their hands up and placed a kiss upon her knuckles.

And that was when I kissed her (everybody talks, everybody talks)

“I do not regret anything either—“ he cleared his throat, “In fact, I’d appreciate if we would be able to interact more, especially outside of that cesspit.”

Was he...?

It didn’t matter.

She smiled the same dazzling smile she gave him at the dance. She nodded while laughing, “I’d love that.”

Everybody talks

The two stay talking, hidden within their secret alcove for the rest of the day. She texted her parents to say she was with a friend and would be back later that night. Damian didn’t bother texting his family, Marinette knew he had to be back soon due to his dorm’s curfew.

The sun was setting at they walked back together, he did the gentlemanly thing and dropped her off at her bakery door. She could see her mother behind the register inconspicuously looking over at the two of them. Damian’s lips quirked upwards, she was satisfied with his kinda-smile.

He walked back, hands in pockets and a neutral expression upon his face instead of a scowl. He reached his door and took his keys, he found that it was already open. Damn.

His family was splayed out within his two roomed dorm. Todd and Drake were fighting over a place to sit on his bed, whilst his father sat at his desk, watching the commotion. The three of them turned to him as he enter the room, they were the only family members able to attend on short notice; Cain had a ballet audition, Gordon & Brown had concert tickets for tomorrow, Grayson had to take care of Mar’i while Kor’i was on Tamaran and Alfred stayed to ensure no one died during their night time activities.

“We need to talk Damian.” His father stood, leaning onto the desk chair. “The school called and said you had an unexcused absence for half the day. Where were you Damian?”

Damian stared into his father’s eyes. He was fifteen, almost an adult, but was treated like he was ten again.

“I was with a friend.”

“Probably the girl from the dance. Marinette, right?” Todd mocked him. Damian snapped his head in the direction of his bed, glaring at both his brothers.

“That’s what I want to talk about with you Damian. Now I don’t know her personally but from what we’ve discovered through our investigation we have some concerns. What’s happened Damian?”

The youngest Wayne’s glare shifted off of his brothers to the floor, and then finally to his father; his family sitting in wait for his answer. Straightening his posture, his shoulders clicked as he rolled then back. His statement’s tone was sure and steady, “Everybody talks father.”

Everybody talks... back

[public-trans-it-deactivated20240]

TMA Season 3 Review (Part 1: 81-91)

Season One

Season Two

I FLIPPED MY SHIT hearing the first episode. It really recontextualized a lot of the series. I think once I finish the series, im gonna go back through and listen a second time, probably liveblogging it a second time. There are so many details I’m missing I’m sure. A friend did a thing about Jon and how his backstory motivates him and it’s EXTREMELY well written, check it out. It summarizes my own thoughts on him quite elegantly. (Lyre don’t read this, obviously)

Love the new format. Also loved the last one, but forgot to mention it. I really like how it divides the seasons like this. Not just “that was the season finale because TWENTY EPISODES SINCE LAST BIG THING! NOW NEW BIG THING!” But because those twenty episodes are unique in their format. I desperately hope that continues to be the case.

But I’m also breaking up my post because there is SO MUCH MORE NOW. EVERYTHING HAPPENS SO MUCH. AND I NEED TO SCREAM ABOUT IT. Gonna be doing one of these every 10 episodes instead of every season. So I’ve only listened up to MAG90. Well… 91. I debated writing this up at 90 and the contents of 91 basically forced me to.

I absolutely LOVE how Jon is getting affected by the Eye.

One of my pet peeves in horror is how the main character remains untouched by the spookystuff affecting the people around it, because it needs to be that way for the narrative to work. Meanwhile in TMA…. That…. Is not the case. The Archivist is ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY affected by the hidden powers behind the scenes and you get to listen to it warping him and making him more than human IN REAL TIME :D It’s DELIGHTFUL. And hearing what it’s like from everyone ELSE is also delightful! Daisy’s desription of “his questions ripping answers out of you like he was pulling teeth” was GREAT.

Also it actually answers the question of “Why don’t they just leave?” because we had the hand wave answer of “they just can’t” before due to Tim, but Tim is now REALLY going out of his way to show us WHY they can’t. Even as he fights tooth and nail from doing ANYTHING he is still dragged along against his will. I think Tim is going to be our example of what happens when you keep feeding your entity yourself instead of everything else. He only ever looks for answers when it’s something HE wants, and it is LITERALLY KILLING HIM.

I also just realized the interesting parallel between Jon and Tim. Both left the institute. Tim had to go back. Jon has been fine though. Cause when Tim left the Institute, he also left the Eye. But Jon brought the Eye and all it’s inquisitiveness with him. Only one of them was forced to come crawling back against their will.

I like that we are just getting live statements from the various avatars of the entities we have seen. Again, Jude’s reactions of genuine pain with every question are delightful storytelling. Jon (IRL) and Alex did a great job with that, as did Jude’s actress.

I also love how large the cast has gotten, but it still feels organic. It feels like natural growth as Jon gets more people looped into this.

I also love the implications that the tapes are no longer in anyones control. They have activated in their own a few times, and also it seems like they just HAPPEN to be recording when it’s something Jon will eventually need to hear or when it’s about him. I don’t think that’s a coincidence.

Also I forgot to mention it last season but the comment on tapes being digital not analog didn’t skip my notice. Especially when it was in a statement about becoming trapped in a digital format. Jon is ABSOLUTELY binding parts of these things in the fucking tapes, and I’m excited to see where he goes with that. I’m just waiting for the tapes to start becoming like the books. The books became artifacts of the Entities because they were analog, but they have limited influence on the tapes. I don’t think the tapes will be able to contain an entities power in the way a book can, but I am certain it can capture a part of them in some way. I’m excited to see it.

I do desperately want to shake Lyre now and go “HEY GO LISTEN TO MORE TMA FOR BLORBO REASONS THAT I CANNOT STATE.” Especially after his response to the statements of basically saying exactly what she said in her post. That he knows it’s too dangerous to ignore this stuff, and also knows it’s too dangerous to act on it. And it’s becoming clear now that the solution is that… he has to let it become more dangerous. And accept that it will be. That he WILL suffer to get his answers, and that he can’t NOT get answers anymore.

Yeah. Looking at the length of this post, breaking them up seems like a good idea.

[artificialdaydreamer]

How to Say "I Love You"

Emotions are hard to understand, conveying how one feels to the person they love is even harder.

-

Jon had never been good at expressing his emotions. Growing up he mostly absorbed their descriptions from books, how a character was excited for something to happen, how another was jealous of someone else. The feeling he found hardest to comprehend was love. How was it possible to be so completely devoted to another person that it shifted the way you felt about everything? He loved his parents, even now that they were gone. He loved his grandmother, but he got the feeling that the type of love written about in books was different from the emotions he was actually experiencing.

When he started dating Georgie, something he’d entirely misinterpreted when it had first happened, Jon wasn’t sure what the emotions he felt were. Was the yearning to be close to her love? The happiness to have someone he could talk with about inconsequential things? Then again, if what he felt wasn’t love, then what was? Eventually Georgie came to him, told him that while she liked Jon as a friend she didn’t think their relationship was working out. They’d broken up without much fanfare and going from dating to friends didn’t really change how they interacted with each other.

As he watched Martin sleep, his coppery curls catching the light of the rising sun, his face close enough to Jon’s that it was possible to count every freckle, Jon thought he might finally have an answer. He loved Martin, that was the only explanation for why his heart clenched whenever Martin smiled, why his cheeks flushed and his palms started to sweat from the smallest things. This was what people talked about in those books, what they yearned for with such intensity, wasn’t it?

When had he started feeling like this? When had Jon’s feelings for Martin turned to love? Was it when he’d gone into the Lonely? When Martin had started working for Peter Lukas and Jon was no longer able to see him? Earlier? How long had he loved Martin and just not realized it?

Jon lay there, thinking back to their interactions over the years. Next to him Martin started to stir, blue eyes blinking open slowly. “Morning.” Martin said with a smile.

“Good morning.” Jon tried to keep his voice from shaking as his heart pounded in time with his thoughts. I love you, I love you, I love you.

From then on it was hard to not feel overwhelmed by the love, like a wave crashing over him. Jon would be in the middle of a sentence before getting distracted by Martin, how beautiful he was, his laugh. I love you, I love you, I love you. How did people deal with these emotions?

He started to use actions instead of the words he could not say. Making sure they had enough of Martin’s favorite tea in the safehouse. I love you, I love you, I love you. Offering to cook breakfast so Martin could stay in bed a bit longer. I love you, I love you, I love you. Letting his fingers linger a bit longer than was necessary whenever they touched. I love you, I love you, I love you.

They’d decided to take a walk into town, grab some groceries, and stretch their legs, passing the field full of cows Martin stopped and cooed over them. He’d gotten out his phone to take pictures and the moment was so... normal compared to everything they’d been through that Jon started chuckling.

“What’s so funny?” Martin had asked, tearing his eyes from the cows to look at Jon in confusion.

“Nothing,” Jon took a breath, trying to burn this moment into his memory. “I just love you so much.”

There was a moment of silence where Martin just stared at him, his freckled face looking even redder thanks to the glow of the setting sun. “Wait... What?”

For a heartbeat Jon wondered if he’d said the wrong thing, although he hadn’t even meant to say it at all. He couldn’t help but question if Martin’s confession of “I really loved you” meant that those feelings were gone. Had he been the only one who worried about just what the emotions flooding through his veins meant? Was he just imagining that Martin felt the same way?

“I- I’m sorry... I didn’t mean-” Jon was floundering now, scrambling for something to say to make the situation right again. “If you don’t- I’m sorry.”

“You... Do you mean that?” Martin’s cheeks were practically scarlet, his phone now dangling precariously in one hand.

“I... Yes?” Despite the fact Jon had already come to terms with his feelings, had already said the words aloud, it felt like an entirely different thing to answer when his thoughts were in such turmoil. He didn’t know how to respond in a way that wouldn’t sound selfish, asking for affection he knew in his heart he didn’t deserve. Even if Martin did still like him there wasn’t anything that Jon could do to atone for the thing’s he had said, the things he had done, the person he’d been to have treated Martin so terribly. It was ironic, that at the time he’d swatted away such affection yet now he craved it as though he were an addict suffering from withdrawal. As though he’d been living underground and now that he’d seen sunlight he couldn’t get enough.

The expression on Martin’s face was hard to understand. Was it sadness? Pity? The books Jon had read as a child had talked about brows furrowing, lips being bitten, eyes not being met, but those individual descriptions could apply to so many emotions and Jon didn’t know what it was Martin might be feeling. It was all Jon could do to not scrunch his eyes up as Martin took a tentative step closer, then another, bridging the gap between them and effectively forcing all the air from Jon’s lungs. Then he’d swept Jon up in his arms, Jon’s face nestling into the crook of his neck. It was so warm and comfortable... It felt like Jon belonged there.

“S-sorry...” Martin gasped as they broke apart, his face still red as he seemed to examine Jon for some sort of reaction. “I should have asked first, but I- Are you okay?”

In all honesty Jon was not okay. His brain was attempting to sort out just what he was feeling, synapses firing and crossing out things like anger and disgust with only his limited knowledge of emotions to go off of. Again, the words and feeling threatened to overwhelm him with the constant pounding of I love you, I love you, I love you.

“Jon?” Martin waved a hand in front of his face and it was a real effort for Jon to pull himself out of his thoughts enough to meet Martin’s gaze. “Did I do something wrong?”

“N-no... I just... I wasn’t expecting- I didn’t know if-”

“Wait... Jon, did you not think I felt the same?” Martin’s eyes were wide, reflecting the setting sun.

“I, I’m not sure.” He’d spent so much time absorbed in his own thoughts that he hadn’t actually thought of what might happen if he confessed. He hadn’t even thought about confessing. Jon realized that he’d somehow become content with just loving Martin and not telling him. He’d convinced himself that Martin was better off without him, and that there wasn’t a point in confessing.

“Jon, I’ve loved you for the past two years.” Martin’s voice was soft, his cheeks still flushed as he stared at Jon.

“What?” Jon squawked, taking a step back in surprise. Martin reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand in his own, it was so warm, so comforting.

“Well, not exactly two years...” Martin ran his free hand through his coppery curls. “Since the thing with Prentiss, when you let me stay in the Archives...”

Jon remembered those long nights they’d spent together after Martin had started living in the document storage room. At first Jon had found Martin’s presence kind of annoying, it was impossible to get some time by himself. Then he’d realized what was going on, although he couldn’t explain just how he’d known.

Martin didn’t want to be alone.

While he’d admitted during his statement that boredom had been the thing that had been the hardest to deal with, Jon suspected loneliness had also plagued him. Cut off from everyone, no internet, no phone, and it wasn’t like he could talk to Jane Prentiss. It certainly explained why Martin felt the need to check on Jon every half hour.

Once he’d realized why Martin was acting like a concerned parent he made an effort to take more breaks so they could talk. At first it had been hard to find topics for discussion, as Jon was as good with small talk as he was with emotions, but bringing up the Admiral had certainly broken the ice. After that Jon found it easier to connect with Martin, it was still somewhat awkward, but he certainly made an effort. Jon had also ended up staying in the Archives overnight a handful of times as well, partially because he had work to do and partially to keep Martin company.

It had been those nights where they’d started to connect, going out to eat so they could both eat a decent meal, talking about random things to pass the time while they struggled to fall asleep. Jon had started to get a sense of who Martin was, underneath the jumpers and tea. He was earnest and always tried his best to do whatever task Jon set for him, no matter how absurd it was. He also had a mischievous side to him and had no problem joining Tim in his pranks, although Martin was much better at keeping the pranks a secret.

It felt strange, getting to know a person through whispered conversations, over tea breaks, or at a cafe. Jon was never good with friendships, never good at telling what people wanted from him, so he’d ended up pushing everyone away. After his encounter with Mr. Spider he only became more withdrawn, survivor’s guilt eating him up inside. Martin wasn’t like the others though. Despite the fact that Jon was horrible at communicating, horrible at deciphering what emotions anyone might be feeling at any given time, Martin didn’t seem to care. He seemed to be genuinely happy to spend time with Jon, which was just as foreign a concept.

Now, despite everything that had happened in the past few years, Martin had stayed with him. An anchor in the churning waves that threatened to wash him away from everything he knew and cared about. Jon loved him for that. “I think that’s when I started to fall for you too. I didn’t- I didn’t realize at the time...”

“Oh, I definitely didn’t realize either.” Martin’s cheeks were slightly less flushed than they had been. “I think I realized it when- this is going to sound crazy...”

“You realized it when, Martin?” Jon couldn’t help but ask, smiling at the flustered look on Martin’s face.

“It... It was when I told you about lying on my CV.” Martin sighed, not daring to meet Jon’s gaze. “You, you were so mad at first but after I told you... You just started laughing and I remember looking at you and thinking ‘really? This is the man I fell in love with?’ Thankfully Tim... Tim was too distracted by everything else going on to pay attention to my hopeless crush.”

“Not so hopeless.” Jon squeezed Martin’s hand. “I knew how much I cared about you when I woke up in the hospital after my coma. Georgie was there, and I remember being sad because it was you I wanted to see.” It felt strange to say the words aloud, as though he was only understanding what had happened. He’d been thinking about it so much over the past few weeks, since he’d realized that he loved Martin, but it took saying the words aloud for him to notice. “It was funny, the months that followed, I thought it was a fitting punishment for how I’d treated you. Wanting to be close to someone and yet unable to do so. I knew I loved you a few days after we arrived here.”

“Is that why you were acting so weird?”

“Look, I... I’m not the best with emotions. I don’t get them, I don’t understand how I feel half the time. With other people it’s even harder, trying to piece together how they’re feeling based on their expression or the tone of their voice...” Since he was still holding Martin’s hand Jon couldn’t cross his arms defensively over his chest, so he settled for putting his free hand in his pocket. “This is the first time I’ve ever... I’ve ever felt something so intensely. I didn’t know what to do, how to act, now that I knew I loved you.”

“I get it, emotions are hard. Can I help?” Martin asked, his lips quirked in a small smile.

“Sure? I guess so?”

“How did you feel when I told you that I loved you?”

Jon had to think about it, he’d been so overwhelmed by the tidal wave of emotions that he wasn’t sure what any of them had been. “I was... I think I was happy.”

“You think?”

“I was happy, alright?” Jon huffed. “I was also shocked, and confused... Mostly I was happy, because I loved you so much.”

“Alright, that’s good to know.” Martin took a step closer, still smiling. “How would you feel if I kissed you?”

The answer came easier this time. “Happy. I’d feel happy.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Absolutely.” Jon didn’t know what to expect from Martin kissing him. He’d kissed Georgie and while it hadn’t been unpleasant he hadn’t gotten anything from the experience. This time however, Jon could taste the remnants of whatever chapstick Martin had used, strawberry maybe? He felt how warm Martin’s lips were, despite the cold day, their heat bleeding into him. He wrapped his arms around Martin and pulled them closer, trying to memorize everything as it happened. Martin’s scent, the wool of his jumper, how fast both their hearts were beating. In his head Jon was panicking. He didn’t know what to do, or if what he was doing was the right thing to do. He attempted to understand what the emotions he felt were: happiness... amazement... and love. So much love. Was love even an emotion? He didn’t know, but it certainly overwhelmed his senses.

When they broke apart Martin was smiling and, more surprisingly, Jon was smiling back. “Let’s take it one day at a time, alright? We can work out what you might be feeling together.”

“I- I’d like that.”

I love you, I love you, I love you.

The words still rattled around in his mind, but for once they didn’t worry him. Jon might not understand love, or emotions, or why the characters in his books had behaved a certain way, but it didn’t matter. Martin loved him back, and that was more than enough for him.

-

I've been sitting on this fic for a year due to some personal issues, on a related note this is not betaed, I apologize for any mistakes there might be

[rusalkaandtheshepherdgirl]

Assigning songs from Sour to TMA characters:

Brutal is Jon and I'm not taking questions. It's about being angry about how unprepared you are for the world you're in and Olivia Rodrigo may mean it in terms of youth but being pushed into a world of Entities is fucking similar. Also "all I did was try my best / this the kind of thanks I get", "I only have two real friends" "Lately I'm a nervous wreck"

Traitor is Michael but like Michael as he became part of the Spiral. Gertrude may never have actually promised to not feed him to a fear god but she still utterly betrayed him and she wasn't sorry. Traitor is the moment he realized that she sent him in alone and that he was trapped in the supernatural forever now. And after that moment he was "I'm not a who, I'm a what" Michael with him laugh and he maybe even felt better but that moment

Driver's License is season 2 Tim. It's melancholy and depressed and angry at being left like his brother left him. He still fucking loves his brother even though now all there's left is to get revenge because he can't get his brother back. "I still fucking love you"

1 step forward 3 steps back is Elias because he's a consummate manipulator and people literally can't leave him. And also because it's a pretty song and Elias is hot.

Deja Vu is Melanie. It's an angry song about not moving on. And Melanie was very angry and did not move on from trying to kill Elias for a long long time.

good 4 u is Daisy. The music video is literally about arson. There are people that hurt you out there and you want to hurt them back. You want to make the world know your pain.

enough for you is Sasha. She worked really hard to be good enough but Jon got appointed Archivist anyway. And it's a sad song about not getting what you deserve because Sasha deserved the world. But nothing was ever enough for the archives, was it?

happier- happier has a lot of emotions: betrayal, wistfulness, a slight bit of anger, but ultimately acceptance. Perfect choice for Gerard Keay. He kinda just wanted a normal life but he just, coped with the fact he didn't get one. He was betrayed and angry a lot but accepted it and did his best with it. He was ominous as hell but actually helpful to people yk which is more than anyone else

jealousy jealousy is not!them it literally takes people's lives. am i wrong?

favorite crime- it's Basira. It's literally about being an accomplice. And Basira was Daisy's and she did everything for her. Her character arc was accepting that Daisy was wrong but she still loved Daisy so much. "but I say that I hate you with a smile on my face" indeed. ultimately Favorite Crime is seeing how bad the other person was and still hoping that they loved you and wishing it didn't have to end this way. I get so emotional about Basira and Daisy.

hope ur ok is Martin. It's a lonely kind of song, about people who have drifted away. But it's still genuinely sweet and caring

[weheartchrisevans]

BOSTON — So you're Tim Scott, the Republican senator from South Carolina who opposes Roe v. Wade and wants to repeal the Affordable Care Act, and you get a call from Chris Evans, a Hollywood star and lifelong Democrat who has been blasting President Trump for years. He wants to meet. And film it. And share it on his online platform. Can anybody say "Borat?" “I was very skeptical,” admits Scott. “You can think of the worst-case scenario.”But then Scott heard from other senators. They vouched for Evans, most famous for playing Captain America in a series of films that have grossed more than $1 billion worldwide. The actor also got on the phone with Scott’s staff to make a personal appeal.

It worked. Sometime in 2018, Scott met on camera with Evans in the nation’s capital, and their discussion, which ranged from prison reform to student loans, is one of more than 200 interviews with elected officials published on “A Starting Point,” an online platform the actor helped launch in July. Not long after, Evans appeared on Scott’s Instagram Live. They have plans to do more together.

“While he is a liberal, he was looking to have a real dialogue on important issues,” says Scott. “For me, it’s about wanting to have a conversation with an audience that may not be accustomed to hearing from conservatives and Republicans.”

Evans, actor-director Mark Kassen and entrepreneur Joe Kiani launched “A Starting Point” as a response to what they see as a deeply polarized political climate. They wanted to offer a place for information about issues without a partisan spin. To do that, they knew they needed both parties to participate.

Evans, 39, sat on the patio outside his Boston-area home on a recent afternoon talking about the platform. He wore a black T-shirt and jeans and spent some of the interview chasing around his brown rescue dog. Nearly 100 million people didn’t vote in the 2016 general election, Evans says. That’s more than 40 percent of those who were eligible.He believes the root of this disinterest is the nastiness on both sides of the aisle. Many potential voters simply turn off the news, never mind talking about actual policy.“A Starting Point” is meant to offer a digital home for people to hear from elected officials without having the conversation framed by Tucker Carlson or Rachel Maddow.

“The idea is . . . ‘Listen, you’re in office. I can’t deny the impact you have,’ ” says Evans. “ ‘You can vote on things that affect my life.’ Let this be a landscape of competing ideas, and I’ll sit down with you and I’ll talk with you.”

Or, as Sen. Lisa Murkowski (R-Alaska), who has appeared on the site, puts it, “Sometimes, boring is okay. You’re being presented two sides. Everything doesn’t have to be sensational. Sometimes, it can just be good facts.” Evans wasn’t always active in politics. At Lincoln-Sudbury Regional High School, he focused on theater, not student government. And he moved away from home his senior year, working at a casting agency in New York as he pushed for acting gigs. His uncle, Michael E. Capuano, served as a congressman in Massachusetts for 20 years, but other than volunteering on some of his campaign, Evans wasn’t particularly political.

In recent years, he’s read political philosopher Hannah Arendt and feminist Rebecca Solnit’s “The Mother of All Questions” — ex-girlfriend Jenny Slate gave him the latter — and been increasingly upset by Trump’s policies and behavior. He’s come to believe that he can state his own views without creating a conflict with “A Starting Point.” When he and Scott spoke on Instagram, the president wasn’t mentioned. In contrast, recently Evans and other members of the Avengers cast took part in a virtual fundraiser with Democratic vice-presidential nominee Kamala D. Harris.

“I don’t want to all of a sudden become a blank slate,” says Evans. “But my biggest issue right now is just getting people to vote. If I start saying, ‘vote Biden; f Trump,’ my base will like that. But they were already voting for Biden.”

(In September, Evans accidentally posted an image of presumably his penis online and, after deleting it, tweeted: “Now the I have your attention . . . Vote Nov. 3rd!!!”)

Evans began to contemplate the idea that became “A Starting Point” in 2017. He heard something reported on the news — he can’t remember exactly what — and decided to search out information on the Internet. Instead of finding concrete answers, Evans fell down the rabbit hole of opinions and conflicting claims. He began talking about this with Kassen, a friend since he directed Evans in 2011’s “Puncture.” What if they got the information directly from elected officials and presented it without a spin? Kassen, in turn, introduced Evans to Kiani, who had made his fortune through a medical technology company he founded and, of the three, was the most politically involved.

Kiani has donated to dozens of Democratic candidates across the country and earlier this year contributed $750,000 to Unite the Country, a super PAC meant to support Joe Biden. But he appreciated the idea of focusing on something larger than a single race or party initiative. He, Kassen and Evans would fund “A Starting Point,” which has about 18 people on staff.

“There’s no longer ABC, NBC and CBS,” Kiani says. “There’s Fox News and MSNBC. What that means is that we are no longer being censored. We’re self-censoring ourselves. And people go to their own echo chamber and they don’t get any wiser. If you allow both parties to speak, for the same amount of time, without goading them to go on into hyperbole, when people look at both sides’ point of view of both topics, we think most of the time they’ll come to a reasonable conclusion.”

“What people do too often is they get in their silos and they only watch and listen and read what they agree with,” says John Kasich, the former Ohio governor and onetime Republican presidential candidate. “If you go to Chris’s website, you can’t bury yourself in your silo. You get to see the other point of view.” As much as some like to blame Trump for all the conflicts in Washington, Sen. Christopher A. Coons (D-Del.) says he’s watched the tone shifting for decades. He appreciated sitting down with Evans and making regular submissions to “Daily Points,” a place on the platform for commentary no longer than two minutes. During the Supreme Court confirmation hearings, Coons recorded a comment on Judge Amy Coney Barrett and the Affordable Care Act.“ ‘A Starting Point’ needs to be a sustained resource,” Coons says. “Chris often talks about it being ‘Schoolhouse Rock’ for adults.”

It’s not by chance that Evans has personally conducted all of the 200-plus interviews on “A Starting Point” during trips to D.C. Celebrities often try to mobilize the public, whether it’s Eva Longoria, Tracee Ellis Ross and Julia Louis-Dreyfus hosting the Democratic National Convention or Jon Voight recording video clips to praise Trump. But in this case, Evans is using his status in a different way, to entice even the most hesitant Republican to sit down for an even-toned chat. And he’s willing to pose with anyone, even if it means explaining himself on “The Daily Show” after Republican Sen. Ted Cruz of Texas posted a selfie with Evans. (Two attempts to interview Trump brought no response.) Murkowski remembers when Evans came to Capitol Hill for the first time in 2018. She admits she didn’t actually know who he was — she hadn’t yet seen any Marvel movies. She was in the minority.“We meet interesting and important people but, man, when Captain America was in the Senate, it was all the buzz,” she says. “And people were like, ‘Did you get your picture taken?’ I said, ‘Yeah, I sat down and did the interview.’ ‘You did an interview? How did you get an interview with him?’ ”What impressed Murkowski wasn’t his star power. It was the way Evans conducted the interview.“It was relaxing,” she says. “You didn’t feel like you were in front of a reporter who was just waiting for you to say something you would get caught on later. It was a dialogue . . . and we need more dialogue and less gotcha.”

“Starting Points” offers two-minute answers by elected officials in eight topic areas, including education, the environment and the economy. This is where the interviews Evans conducted can be found. “Daily Points” has featured a steady flow of Republicans and Democrats. A third area, “Counterpoints,” hosts short debates between officials on particular subjects. Eric Swalwell, a Democrat from California, debated mail-in voting with Dusty Johnson, the Republican congressman from South Dakota.

“Most Americans can’t name more than five members of the United States House,” says Johnson. “ ‘A Starting Point’ allows thoughtful members to talk to a broader audience than we would normally have.”

The platform’s social media team pushes out potentially newsworthy clips, whether it’s Sen. Mike Lee (R-Utah) discussing his meeting with Barrett just before he tested positive for the coronavirus, or Angus King, the independent senator from Maine, criticizing Trump for his comments on a potential peaceful transfer of power after November’s election. Kassen notes that the King clip was viewed more than 175,000 times on “A Starting Point’s” Twitter account, compared with the 10,000 who caught in on CNN’s social media platform.

“Because it’s short-form media, we’re engineered to be social,” says Kassen. “As a result, when something catches hold, it’s passed around our audience pretty well.”

The key is to use modern tools to push out content that’s tonally different from what you might find on modern cable news. Or on social media. Which is what Evans hopes leads to more engagement. He’s particularly proud that more than 10,000 people have registered to vote through “A Starting Point” since it went online.

“If the downstream impact or the byproduct of this site is some sort of unity between the parties, great,” says Evans. “But if nobody’s still voting, it doesn’t work. We need people involved.”

[hellyeahheroes]

You know, one would think last 5 years taught Damian Wayne fans to not get overly excited for DC trying to hammer him into roles and niches of his siblings like a round peg into a square hole.

@ubernegro​ made once on this blog a post detailing how Damian has been used as means to undermine and dismiss Batfamily in favor of the idea of Bruce and his “true” son and heir and how much of Damian’s character is built around that. I came to conclusion that the dissonance between how fandom sees Damian and how DC is using him comes exactly from this. Fans of Damian want him to be a real personality, someone who can grow and undergo character development. However, DC sees Damian only as a tool to bash rest of Batfam and thus will never give us that - if he can grow as a person it implies he wasn’t already perfect and thus wasn’t by default better than Dick, Tim, Jason, Cass, Duke or whichever Batfam meber the editor hates this week.

When you look at Damian stories from last few years you’ll see that those that are hated by the fanbase try to slot him into a niche of another Batfam member. Benjamin Percy’s teen Titans run tried to show he could fil lthe role of a team leader for other young heroes, a trait associated with Dick and, to a lesser extend, Tim. To the point the book tried to evoke 2003 Teen Titans cartoon, where the team leader was this weird Dick/Tim fusion, with a similair roster. And it went off like a lead baloon because Damian is a different character and fit to this role like a fist to a nose. And at first it could have been an interesting dynamic, with Damian as a wannabe leader whom Starfire needs to keep in check, but it became clear very fast we’re not qallowed to move away from it and see Damian outgrow this - because DC didn’t see him as a character but a way to bash Dick, he was supposed to be perfect and not allowed to grow. Thus he was stuck int oa role he didn’t fit.

Come Adam Glass run, DC decided to make Damian a “better Jason” isntead and we all know how bad it went. We ended with a story trying to outedge the family edgelord so badly Damian ended up committing heoinous crimes some people will never forgive him for and only went downhil from there and again, he wasn’t allowed to learn his lesson and grow because DC wants him to be perfect to show how much “better” he is. It was most ridiculous attempt at making a better edgelord since Marvel replaced Ghost Rider with Vengeance.

And now Damian got the very story arc Cass fandom has been asking DC to give her for 15 years. DC knew very well how important it was to Cass fandom so the fact it was given to Damian does not feel like a coincidence to me, but an attempt for editorial to now try to show how “better” Damian is than Cass. And let’s be real, he already sticks out in this story like a sore thumb, the whole thing needed to plaster Ras’ stupid face all over the story to cover that up. Because once again Damian is forced into a role that doesn’t fit his character for the sole purpose of telling fans of another Batfam member they should like Damian instead purely because DC editorial is spiteful.

And if you think this isn’t gonna be bad for Damian, let me assure you there is mroe than one reason why I keep using the image of Montreal Screwjob to talk about this storyline, every chance I get. You know, this one

Because I assure you, after that shit Shawn Michaels would forever be booed whenever he got on stage in Canada. It was so bad he stated to exploit it whenever played a bad guy, going to Montreal and directly antagonizing the crowds. Only making amends with Brett Heart would fix that. And I feel the same way Cass fans are never gonna forgive Damian until amends are made. We may ever seen him insult Cass if he ever pulls a legit heel turn.

There are good Damian stories and in those he is doing things unique to him. Being Dick’s sidekick, being friends with Jon kent, hanging out with Maps or Colin or Maya. But these are always dismissed whenever DC needs to get off to throwing other Batfam members under the bus. And something tells me this story will be no different - just another attempt to make Damian claim a place he doesn’t belong to.

-Admin

[herstarburststories]

Important Milestones (Damian Wayne x reader)

✾ Summary: An intimate look through your and Damian's relationship. Requested! It’s been a hot bit since I wrote for Damian, so I hope this one is good!

↼❈⇁

First meeting

Dick was taking Damian to the circus

Add a long conversation and lots of "Yeah, Dami. I'm sure the animals are treated well-- Actually, animals aren't allowed in legal circus anymore. You don't have to worry."

They were watching the show, and Damian couldn’t believe that Grayson was so excited about clowns

Damian excused himself to get some food

Dick asked him to get a hotdog, but Damian will bring him popcorn #beaveg

Thing is, you and Damian arrived the food trunk at the same time

Which leaded to an argument

Y/N: I got here first!

Damian: You are not on the line!

Y/N: Because you almost ran over me!

You two kept going long enough for a worried Dick to show up

How to trust each other

You know when you've never seen a person before, but once you lay your eyes on them, you start seeing their face in every crowd?

That's basically you and Damian

How come you didn't know the idiot from the circus was also the Wayne guy that studied with you?

How he, with Talia and Batman's observation skills, never noticed you walking around Gotham's School and now he always caught a sight of you?

You and Damian quickly fall into a weird routine:

Glare each other during lunch

Rolls your eyes when the others was talking in class

Annoy each other whenever you had the chance

Jon teased him a lot

Talking about Superboy...

He seemed off in the morning and he hadn't showed up for lunch like he always did

Damian decided to look for his best friend

Surprisingly, he found Jon crying in your arms in the middle of the chemistry laboratory

You just looked at Damian and nodded for him to come in

Y/N: His parents had a big fight. I found him here alone and thought I could help. Since you are here, guess I'll go.

Damian: You can stay. I mean, Jon probably could use your emotional assistance.

Damian still finds you annoying (and so do you), but you helped his friend

He trust you... A bit

Recognize your feelings

Damian came to school one day. He is clearly hurt-- he couldn’t even walk straight

Jon remained quiet. He was there when the week's villain throw Damian against a wall as if he was a bag of potatoes

But you don't know about the Robin detail

Besides, you are sort of a trinity with them now

Therefore, you worry

And you ask

And you worry some more

It's been a few weeks since your friendship started. Damian trusts you, he really does, but not enough to tell you

Let's keep in mind that pretty much like Bruce, Damian isn't the best when it comes to expressing his feelings through anything but violence

So, he acts like an idiot

Y/N: Damian, come on. I'm not stupid enough to believe you’d fall hard enough to get yourself hurt like this. Talk to me.

Damian: Stop pushing your need to fix everything on me, Y/N. You are not my mother. Don't waste your worry on me, I don't need it.

You realized you liked him when you felt way more worried than you usually would

But Damian just noticed his cherish for you when you glared at him with evident hurt in your eyes and left the table

He just wanted you back, making silly jokes with Jon and stealing his fries

Kiss me, idiot

Two days

48 hours + 12 minutes since you two fought

A whole weekend

LISTEN, his life was going perfectly well before you came along

Now it seems like you opened a spot that's exactly your fit and put yourself there

Whenever you aren't around, Damian feels this weird sensation of missing

Jon convinces him into talking to you

As soon as he sees you in school, he does

Apologize becomes another argument (surprise, surprise)

Damian: Why do you care so much?!

Y/N: Because I like you, idiot!

Damian: You, you like me? As in--

Then you kiss him

Because, let's be clear, you'd end up kissing or punching him

Finding out he's Robin

It's the most stupid way possible

Like, for real

Last night, his Robin's duties kept Damian up until 5am

Instead of leaving his clothes inside the Batcave as usual, he just crumbled to his bed

The sun arrived and so did you

School project

While Damian was out to grab some books, you were studying his room

A picture of him and Jon. Some papers with Arabian words. A dog's bed. Robin suit. A sword

Wait, come back

A. Robin. Suit.

Damian Wayne was many things, but cosplayer certainly wasn't on the list

The pieces glued together fast

A rich family would make sense: Batman and Robin's instruments never looked cheap. Four Robins existed among the years, and Damian had 3 brothers. Not to mention that he'd show up with random scratches and never explain what happened. He was good with swords, and the current Robin had been seen with them a lot of times. Besides, Damian Wayne would never wear a costume willingly, much less keep one in his room

He walks inside the room to see you wearing his cape and mask

Y/N: Guess I'm robin' your persona, huh? Wanna tell me something?

Meeting the family

You come from a big family

Good thing because anybody else would be scared if they were in your shoes

MESS, MESS, MESS

Dick is smiling like a crazy all the time, and making dad jokes

Tim is teasing Damian by asking you to blink twice if you need saving

Jason is directly fighting Damian and calling him devil spawn

Bruce is quietly watching everyone with a subtle smile on his lips. He asks you a few questions, and occasionally asks the boys to behave before answering his phone and excusing himself

Babs, Steph and Cassandra come in later

Now the teasing is divided between you and Damian and Steph and Tim

You tease them a lot, blushing Tim is adorable

You are wearing purple boots, and Steph already loves you for that

Dick tells Babara about you being aware of the family secret

She offered to train you for some self-defense

YOU ACCEPTED, DUH. SHE IS THE BATGIRL!!

Cass is more quiet, but very friendly

Alfred was the first batfam member that you'd met, though (also your fav)

You try (key word being try) to help him in the kitchen

Batcow became your best friend, sorry Jon

You met the Titan family as well

Now you had munition to tease Dick as much as he teased you and Damian

Thank you, Kory

Also, Kor is a real life alien princess, how cool is that!?

Beast Boy is the funniest guy -- and now you are pretty sure you became a vegetarian because you can't eat animals after seeing his transformation

Raven reminds you of Cass

Donna is so powerful, and she knows so many languages!

You get along with his two families

Although Damian rolls his eyes a lot during y'all interaction, he is really happy

First kid

You and Damian are in university when it happens

You both know it's a big step

There's no turning back, you two will always be connected

Damian and you are now responsible, parents

Of the cutest bunny!

Yep, you insisted on naming him Robin

The first kid you both adopted together

Get on your knees for me

Damian isn't much of a romantic

You don't really mind

But when he proposes, it's the sweetest thing

You two had ordered some veggie food to celebrate the end of your finals

Finally a break!

Damian was holding you on the couch as you both watched one of your favorite movies when Robin, the bunny showed up

Y/N: Batbunny, just because we have vegan food, it doesn't mean you can get some. Go eat your lettuce.

Damian: Beloved, maybe you should see what he brought for you.

The bunny had a necklace wrapped around him!!

And the said necklace was attached to a ring!!

A FUCKING DIAMOND!?

Extra of love:

You became a vigilant for a bit before deciding how you truly wanted to help people

Besides charity, you became a lawyer specialized in cases of racism and immigration

Your and Damian's wedding was a mix of your culture and his

Comment/Reblog if you liked it, feedback is magic! Wanna see more? Check my Masterlist! How about get tagged on my batboys or just Damian works? Ask me or add yourself to my taglist!

[voiceless-terror]

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat. 

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused. 

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his  wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it). 

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man. 

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it. 

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake. 

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.”

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze. 

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

[bluejayblueskies]

philautia

n. a love based on deep connection to one’s well-being and built upon a love for one’s self; a centered wholeness

Words: 2.3k

Fandom: The Magnus Archives

Relationship: Sasha James & Tim Stoker & Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims, Past Tim Stoker/Sasha James, Minor Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood

Characters: Tim Stoker, Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims, Sasha James

Additional Tags: AU - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Humor, Statement Fic (but not in the way you expect!), Aromantic and Asexual Characters, Implied/Referenced Homophobia (very minor), Implied/Referenced Arophobia (also very minor)

Summary:

SASHA

So, according to Tim, I’m supposed to be recording a statement on, quote, my “most swashbucklingest experience as an esteemed member of the LGBT community.” He left this recorder on my desk and stole my scone. Timothy Stoker, I will not forget that.

---

Statements of members of the archival staff at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding certain facets of their aspec identities. Statements compiled by Timothy Stoker on 10th June, 2016. For personal use only.

Ao3 link in reblogs

Or read below:

[CLICK]

 MARTIN

 —really don’t think this is necessary—

 TIM

 Aaaaand we’re recording!

 MARTIN

 (exasperated) Tim.

 TIM

 Oh, come on Martin, it’s more fun this way!

 [MARTIN MAKES A NOISE OF DISAGREEMENT]

 TIM

 You cannot look me in the eye and tell me that this doesn’t appeal to your, and I quote, “retro aesthetic.”

 MARTIN

 (reluctantly) It… might.

 TIM

 See! So it’s perfect!

 …

 [HE SIGHS]

 Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to, Martin. I just thought it might be nice—to have something to look back on when we’re all old and sick of each other, you know? Here, I can go first.

 MARTIN

 Tim, you don’t have to—

 TIM

 (overlapping, adopting the ‘Archivist’ voice) Statement of Timothy Stoker, regarding the first time he went to Pride with his brother, Danny. June 10th, 2016.

 (cheekily) Statement begins.

 TIM (STATEMENT)

 (in his normal voice) I realized I was into blokes too when I was 15, you know. Think it took me a while because of the whole ace thing, though that took me until I was in uni to really figure out. I was still fine with sex, you know, always enjoyed it when it came up, just… never really wanted it with anyone in particular. So I suppose I’d assumed for a while that the things I was feeling toward other guys weren’t romantic because I never had the sexual parts to go along with them. (with wry humor) Almost ruined a few relationships that way, actually.

 But I’m getting a bit off-topic. Can’t be one of those rambling statement givers Jon hates. God, I can see his face now, that thing he does with his nose—Martin, you know the one, the- the way it looks like he’s just smelled something really, really rank.

 MARTIN

 I thought you said you weren’t going to ramble.

 TIM

 Cheeky, cheeky. Okay, where was I. Right.

 TIM (STATEMENT)

 Mom and Dad weren’t real big on the whole bi thing, so the first time I got the chance to go to Pride was in uni. The first time I got the chance to go with Danny was after he turned 18 and got his first modeling gig. At least, I think he was already modeling back then. Point is, we were both out of the house, and Danny had been dying to go to Pride with me ever since I sent him pictures of me and Sasha eating an entire box of rainbow-colored donuts that first year. I’d figured out I was ace by then, but it had been pretty recent, so when we got there, I found one of the vendors selling those big flags you drape over your shoulders and got an ace one. Felt a bit weird having the ace flag instead of the bi one like the other years, but I had worn that pink, blue, and purple button-down Sasha got me for Christmas once, so overall, it felt all right.

 And Danny—god, he loved it. Pretty sure he ate his weight in fried food that day.

 [HE LAUGHS]

 Almost got the aro flag he’d borrowed from Sasha dirty, actually, when he—

 (quickly changes course) Ah, nothing! Sasha, if you’re listening to this, absolutely nothing happened to your flag, and I definitely did not have it laundered before I returned it to you.

 TIM

 Aaaaand that’s it! Statement ends, I guess.

 See—easy! (a bit more seriously) But really—you don’t have to record one if you don’t want to, Martin.

 MARTIN

 …

 No, I- I want to.

 TIM

 Are you sure? I don’t want you to do that thing where you just do something because you think someone else wants you to.

 MARTIN

 I do not—!

 …

 Okay, okay, fine. Point taken. But yeah, I- I’m sure.

 [RUSTLING AS THE TAPE RECORDER IS PASSED FROM TIM TO MARTIN]

 MARTIN

 (with an audible smile) Statement of, er, Martin Blackwood. Regarding… a crush. No, no, wait—god, that sounds so juvenile. Regarding himself, and a person who- er, someone whom he—

 [HE SIGHS]

 Fine. Regarding a crush. Statement given June 10th, 2016.

 Statement begins.

 MARTIN (STATEMENT)

 I’m always a little embarrassed to tell people that I’ve never dated anyone before? Okay, a- a lot embarrassed, actually. I try not to bring it up, but people will say things like, oh, you know how it is to shop for a partner or meeting her parents is definitely nerve-wracking—which is wrong on, er, two accounts, actually—and then I feel more awkward not telling them that I don’t know, actually, because I’ve never been in a relationship longer than a week or so. Then, they’ll get all sympathetic, like it’s some- some tragedy that I’m not involved with someone, and that’s worse, because then they’ll offer to set me up with people, or say that they don’t understand why I’m single because I’m a catch or whatever, and I have to give them some excuse about not interested at the moment.

 It’s not that, not really. Dates with strangers, they- they just never work out for me.

 I think I fall somewhere on the aromantic spectrum? I didn’t think about it much until Sasha mentioned it once over drinks—I think you were there, Tim, although you were (laughs) very drunk by that point. I told her I hadn’t had a crush on anyone since sixth form, and she threw around a bunch of terms. I- I honestly don’t really remember, it was kind of overwhelming and (laughs) I was also pretty drunk as well. But yeah, it… it sounds about right.

 (hesitantly, as if bracing himself for impact) So… this person. Who I, er. Recently, that is, who I…

 [HE CLEARS HIS THROAT]

 It’s really strange, that’s all. And a- a lot. I—heh—I don’t really know what to do about it.

 MARTIN

…

 Uh, statement ends? I guess? I, uh, don’t really have anything else to say. (jokingly) It’s not like there’s any, er, follow-up or whatever. (to Tim) Was- was that okay?

 TIM

 (audibly smiling) Yup! Most excellent, Marto. (more seriously) You felt okay, right?

 MARTIN

 (huh) Yeah. Yeah, I- I did. A bit nice, actually. (quickly) As- as long as this stays in the archives, though. It… it is staying in the archives, right?

 TIM

 Oh, definitely. Right next to the section on love potions, I think.

 MARTIN

 Tim!

 TIM

 (laughs) Yes, Martin, it’s staying in the archives. Pinkie promise. Just you, me, Sasha, and Jon. (in the tone of a man who knows a great secret and wants nothing more than to share it) Speaking of Jon—

 MARTIN

 (quickly) Uh, recording ends!

 TIM

 (undeterred) —is he the—?

 [CLICK]

.

 [CLICK]

 SASHA

 Right. So, according to Tim, I’m supposed to be recording a statement on, quote, my “most swashbucklingest experience as an esteemed member of the LGBT community.” He left this recorder on my desk and stole my scone. Timothy Stoker, I will not forget that. It was white chocolate raspberry, and I’m stealing the money it cost out of your wallet.

 …

 Anyway.

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT]

 Statement of Sasha James, given 10th June 2016. Subject of statement is… hmm. Let’s say… (laughs) A brief relationship with one Timothy Stoker.

 Statement begins.

 SASHA (STATEMENT)

 Tim, I know you’re listening to this, and I just want to preface this by saying that yes, it was Italian that we had for dinner that night, not Greek. You’re thinking of a different friendship-turned-hookup-turned-awkward-aftermath-turned-friendship.

 [SHE LAUGHS QUIETLY]

 Anyway, I guess the best place to begin with this whole thing is by saying that I’ve known I was aro since I was 16 and that I’ve never been very good at talking about it. I’ve ended plenty of tried and failed relationships with the it’s-not-you-it’s-me talk because I didn’t know how to explain that I just… wasn’t interested in romance.

 I wanted to explain it to you beforehand, Tim, I really, really did. We’ve had this conversation, I know I know—I won’t rehash it over tape.

 [SHE SIGHS]

 But the important thing is that I like you so, so much, and—god, this is stupid—I guess maybe I thought that it wouldn’t matter with you? That you could like me romantically and I could like you platonically and it would be fine. Like I said, stupid, but you asked me out to that Italian place—yes, Italian, for god’s sake, I had the chicken parm and you had some sort of lasagna abomination—and I just… couldn’t say no. And it was nice, really. I had a lot of fun.

 And then we slept together. And… that was really nice. But then, the next morning, the… the guilt set in. Because I felt the same as I always had about you—which is to say that I loved you, just not in the same way you loved me—and I became convinced that I’d gone and ruined the whole thing.

 Ignoring you for a week was probably not the correct response. (quieter) Yeah, definitely not my finest moment. But I’d gotten it in my head that the moment I told you that I didn’t feel that way about you and that I would never feel that way about you—or about anyone—you’d hate me. And you don’t have to say that you’d never hate me—I know you wouldn’t. I think I knew it then, too. But fear is a powerful thing.

 …

 Anyway, you know how it all turned out. You finally dragged me out to coffee and I finally told you why I’d been avoiding you and it was really, really awkward for about a month after that and then it just… wasn’t anymore. (audibly smiling) And you’re still my best friend, Tim. Even if you did steal my scone.

 [THE SOUND OF PAPERS RUSTLING AND A CHAIR ROLLING BACKWARD]

 Recording ends.

 [CLICK]

 .

 [CLICK]

 ARCHIVIST

 Statement of Kyle Henning, regarding a strange mushroom he found growing in his garden. Original statement given April 15th, 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.

 Statement begi—

 [DOOR OPENS]

 TIM

 Hey boss! Got a moment?

 ARCHIVIST

 (irritated) Tim, please at least knock when the door to my office is closed. I was just about to record a statement.

 TIM

 (unbothered) So if you were about to, that means you’re not recording one right now, which means you do have a moment.

 ARCHIVIST

 (flatly) Shut the door on your way out, Tim.

 TIM

 (brightly) Right you are, boss! Juuuust going to leave this here on your desk. Bring it back whenever you’re done!

 [PAPERS RUSTLE AS SOMETHING IS PLACED ON THE DESK]

 ARCHIVIST

 (dryly) I’m fairly certain that I’m the one who assigns you tasks to complete, Tim.

 TIM

 That you do! I guess I better get back to them then. Have fun!

 ARCHIVIST

 (firmly) Tim—

 [DOOR CLOSES]

 [HE SIGHS]

 ARCHIVIST

 Right. Well, given that this recording is essentially useless now and I hadn’t even gotten to the statement, I may as well start over. (mutters under his breath) Bloody waste of tape and my time—

 [CLICK]

 .

 [CLICK]

 [PAPERS RUSTLE. FOR A MOMENT, THERE IS ONLY THE SOUND OF BREATHING. THEN, JON SIGHS.]

 ARCHIVIST

 Before I begin, I would like to make it very clear that this is not an appropriate use of working hours or the tape recorders, which should be used for statements that won’t record digitally as per Elias’s request.

 …

 That being said, I am… not entirely opposed to this project. So, I suppose…

 [HE CLEARS HIS THROAT]

 Statement of Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London, regarding… regarding a black ring worn on the middle finger of his right hand. Statement recorded by subject, June 10th, 2016.

 Statement begins.

 ARCHIVIST (STATEMENT)

 I’ve often been told that I am not a very open person. I don’t necessarily intend to be closed-off, but I’ve also never found the need to disclose every aspect of my personal life to everyone I come into contact with. And yes, Tim—because I trust that you and you alone will be listening to this tape—that is a perfectly respectable way to live one’s life. Not everyone needs to know what I ate for breakfast that morning or who my favorite primary school teacher was.

 …

 I… will admit, though, that in certain circumstances, I… could probably stand to be more transparent regarding aspects of my personal life. Perhaps that’s why Georgie bought me the ring.

 It wasn’t a special occasion. She just brought it back from the shop one day, a few weeks after a… particularly illuminating conversation about certain sexual identities, and dropped it atop my copy of Wuthering Heights. Honestly, I had no idea what it was at first. I- (heh) I tried to make a joke about unorthodox proposals, but I- I don’t really think it landed. Georgie just looked at me and said that she’d seen it on one of the online forums, that it was called an ace ring, and that she thought I might like it. I think I was more surprised about the fact that the ring fit perfectly than at the fact that she’d bought me the ring in the first place.

 So I wore it. And it felt… nice. Understand, I don’t keep quiet about my romantic and sexual identities out of shame or embarrassment or indecision; I simply don’t feel the need to announce them at any given moment. So I’ve always been fond of small things—pins and stickers and such—that I can incorporate into my life, insignificant enough that they aren’t readily apparent to anyone but me, as they’re for me more than for anyone else. My ring is one such thing.

 [THERE IS A MOMENT OF SILENCE. MORE WORDS SIT IN THE AIR, WAITING. EVENTUALLY, HOWEVER, HE SIGHS, AND THE WORDS REMAIN UNSAID.]

 ARCHIVIST

 Statement ends.

 …

 Right.

 (with something that might be a smile) As for your other request, I do have a prior engagement with Georgie and Melanie this weekend. Though if you’re willing to accommodate two more, I’m sure they wouldn’t be opposed to coming along. Georgie’s always telling me that Pride is more fun when you’re with a group, after all.

 End recording.

 [CLICK]

[schrijverr]

Perfect Height

Jon reflects upon his height throughout all the seasons and how he relates to the world around him.

On AO3.

Ships: JMart

Warnings: Major character death.

~~~~~~~~~~

Jon wasn’t small, okay. He wasn’t. He might technically be below average, but Jon was willing to ignore that fact and blame his apparent small stature on the fact that he worked with unusually tall people.

Tim was pretty well built and standing at a confidant 183 cm and Sasha was also well above average with her 176 cm. Martin was not only incredibly tall, 186 cm (which he tried to hide by slouching slightly and smiling constantly to seem less threatening, something that worked quite well with his round and cutely freckled face), but he was also muscled from years of carrying his mother and had quite a bit of fat around those muscles. This meant Jon with his thin frame could fit inside Martin about two and a half to three times.

Still, Jon insisted, he wasn’t small. He just wasn’t. Sure he was 165 cm, about ten centimeters under the national average, and bony, but he was not small.

It didn’t help his case that he couldn’t reach the high shelves in the archive and he struggled with carrying boxes of statements, he also couldn’t reach the floor if he sat in his chair, he wasn’t able to keep up properly if walking with Tim or Martin and he had to climb on the counter more often than not to grab things.

But he wasn’t small!

He might be okay with saying he was on the short side, but no matter how Tim and Sasha teased and how Martin silently agreed, he wasn’t small. He was their boss and he had a certain image to uphold and he couldn’t be intimidating enough to get them to work if he admitted he was small.

Jon had worked hard to be seen as professional.

Although his hair was long he kept it in a tight bun and his facial hair was neatly trimmed, he always had an immaculate dress shirt on, no jeans but nice professional pants, polished shoes and inoffensive glasses that complemented his face.

He made sure to look as professional and competent as he could. He had worked hard and gotten a promotion and he hadn’t put in all that effort to get laughed at by his subordinates about his height or smallness or whatever.

However, that wasn’t stopping them. Today was extra hellish, because Tim had walked in when Jon had been balanced on the counter trying to get his mug from the top shelves after Martin had carelessly put it there.

Tim had seen him, taken a picture and then laughed at him, easily grabbing the mug without even having to stand on his toes, the asshole. Jon had huffed and snatched the mug out of his hands and ignored his jabs.

But then Sasha had come in and she had seen the picture Tim had apparently shared and now the two of them were roasting him about the mug.

Jon mentally kicked himself, it wasn’t as if there hadn’t been other mugs he could’ve grabbed instead, but it was his mug.

The mug Martin had given him and always brought him tea in.

He didn’t know why it was so important to him that he drank out of that mug and why it did weird things with his chest, so he decided that it irritated him and silently directed that irritation to Martin, who had to be responsible for his predicament since he had given Jon the mug in the first place.

Tim and Sasha didn’t seem to be stopping with the jokes, so he snapped: “Well, if you’re all done, I’ll be going to record some statements and I will not be bothered by you two.”

“Ah, boss, don’t be glum,” Tim called after him and Sasha added: “Yeah, you don’t have the space for too much emotions,” which send them back into peals of laughter again.

Jon pulled the door close with a hard bang and dropped down in his chair, hating the fact that his feet dangled in the air, so he pulled them up and set them on the edge of his seat, curling into himself.

He could admit to himself that he was small, of course he knew he was short and thin, so therefore would fit the definition of small. He didn’t even mind all that much, not even the ribbing about it. It was nice, like he was also part of the camaraderie the others had created, but he could get fed up with it when it was seemingly the only thing everyone talked about.

Sighing again, he turned his chair to the side and pulled the tape recorder along with the statement closer to him. He used his knee to balance the mug of tea against, while he started the recording with his other and then lost himself into the story.

And by the time he was done he had almost forgotten it had happened. He uncurled himself and sat in a more professional manner as he continued his day, still deciding to stay in his office to avoid the teasing, just in case.

But soon there wasn’t much time for teasing. The Archives were under attack by worms and they needed to get out of there. Jon was secretly pretty glad that it wasn’t much of a struggle for Tim to keep him on his feet, while they maneuvered through the tunnels.

After that the air in the office wasn’t the same and the paranoia from Jon kept most of them from making any comments, except a few scathing ones.

Then they were attacked again and their world kept getting weirder and weirder. They lost Sasha too, if it had even been Sasha. Jon tried to remember the real Sasha, he knew she was taller than him, but he couldn’t recall if that had always been or just since the Not-Sasha.

He was also on the run, hiding out at Georgie’s place.

The Admiral, who once had fit in his palms now took up his entire chest. But Georgie’s hug were still as good as he remembered. She still rested her chin on his head that first night there, when he had cried into her shirt and tried to explain why he was there.

He almost got murdered by Daisy, who tossed him around easily. He was saved, of course, but trying to do his job proved difficult alone, but Melanie waswilling to help.

Luckily his name was cleared, but it wasn’t much better for Jon. He was constantly on edge, barely eating and sleeping. He was getting thinner, smaller. He only noticed it after he became easy to kidnap. Although, he mused, I never knew if that was before too, since I didn’t get kidnapped back then.

First Nikola Orsinov and later by Trevor and Julia. It was concerning how easily Julia carried him, despite not being more than a couple of centimeters taller than him.

They stopped the end of the world, but more people died, Tim died and with him the teasing that Jon silently missed even if it hadn’t been teasing anymore for a long time.

He wasn’t human anymore and none, who once had made slightly teasing remarks about it, dared to do so now. Not that being a monster helped, of course, he stayed thin and short.

Joncouldn’t complain about it though, not when he was in the Buried, looking for Daisy, desperate for anything positive to happen, for people to look at him again as if he was normal, maybe for Martin to talk to him.

He missed Martin. He had never thought it be possible for someone of Martin stature to become invisible, but it looked like he had become a ghost. Although, he saw more ghosts than Martin these days. He missed the way his big hands would rest on his shoulder or how he could completely hide behind Martin whenever he had managed to piss off Tim or Sasha enough for them to come after him.

Martin was there, but he was gone just as soon.

But Daisy was safe and Basira didn’t have as much hate in her eyes as before, which had to count for something. It was concerning that Daisy was just as thin as Jon now, barely any muscles left in her normally muscled frame.

Daisy was nice to him, she held his hand like they had done down in the Buried to remind herself where she was. Her hands were rough, but fragile and Jon didn’t dare grasp them tight enough to ease the ache in his chest.

The only hands he gripped that tight were Martins when he was desperately pulling him from the hold the Lonely had on him. Martins hand was soft and warm and big, just like Jon had thought and Jon had never wanted to hold on to something more than that hand.

Jon would never be big or strong enough to tug Martin along, not if Martin didn’t want to, but Martin did want to.

Step by step they made it out of that awful place. Jon's insides lit up, Martin was there and solid, Martin wanted to come with him. He kept on holding that hand, not stopping until they were safe and far, far away from the place that had hurt them so much.

When they first arrived at the cottage Jon found that it had only one bed, he didn’t mind sharing with Martin and Martin didn’t protest when he pushed him on the bed.

Jon got his shoes off, then he scrambled up further onto the bed. Right now, he needed to be close to Martin, to be held, to know that this was real. If things were weird tomorrow, he’d deal with them then. So, he laid down on Martins chest and stomach. He rested his legs on either side of Martins and shoved his head into the space under Martins chin.

Martin was out cold and didn’t even notice the small amount of extra weight on top of him. He just instinctively held the warmth close. And Jon, Jon never left that space.

Jon was okay with the fact that he was small.

It was hard not to be okay with it when Martin could envelop him completely, shield him from the changed world outside their window. Or when his hand rested on Jon’s back, leading him out of a domain.

The both of them fit so well together and when Martin held Jon tight, for a moment the world didn’t seem hopeless, for a moment it seemed like everything would be alright.

They walked through places you’d think be devoid of life and the fact that they weren’t made them so much worse. Throughout it all they held on to one another’s hand, fingers slotting together slowly easing the ache in Jon’s soul.

When they reached their goal they found their friends and Jon felt as if his heart would burst out of his chest when Georgie pulled him into a hug again, almost reminisced of when he was on the run seemingly eons ago.

And when he and Martin shared that stupid mattress he could watch Martin the entire time from the safety of his arms.

It was so good in all that misery that naturally it didn’t last.

Plans change, worlds end and choices had to be made, no matter how badly none of them wanted to.

So, Jon closed himself off. He’d always been a small speck in the world that never truly fit with shelves that were too high for him to reach and steps that were too big for him to keep up. It was fine, though, he would be fine and then it would be over.

However, he had forgotten how tightly Martin held onto him, how he never let go of Jon’s hand despite what the world threw at him.

Loyal Martin.

Sweet Martin.

Safe Martin.

Jon didn’t know how he could have ever walked out of the safety of those arms, away from the chin resting on his head or the warmth of those hands.

So when Martin agreed to stop it here, to let this be the end, he let himself drop back into the security of those arms, knowing that he could trust Martin to do what needed to be done. To take that plunge and hold Jon through it.

They kissed one last time, before Martin gathered him up into his arms and with tears in his eyes, he stabbed Jon, hoping that the prone life form would wake up again.

Jon never did, but there was a content smile on frozen lips for in his final moments he remembered how perfectly he fit in those arms and how there was nowhere he’d rather be.

Jon is a tiny bastard and people can fight me about that

(also cries bc Jon is still 6 cm taller than me here)

fun fact this was written a while ago and first it ended with Jon safe in Martin’s arms, but then I found it again and thought: “Hmm, I can make this sad” so I did