#jonathannancy

[lucassinclaer-archive]

jancy in their just friends era giving each other exorbitant amounts of personal space

for @musicalchaos07

[sir-davey]

I love this picture so much, someone needs to redraw this picture of them 👹

[darlingdekarios]

marvel masterlist.

eddie brock / venom.

⁂ BUFFET.

the only kind of sharing Eddie will agree to.

jonathann ohnn / the spot.

⁂ LOOK UPON ME.

of the things he’d lost that day, there was one that weighed on Jonathan's mind like a bad conscience.

jack russell / werewolf by night.

⁂ JUST A LITTLE BITE.

Jack is concerned his instincts to mark his partner will hurt her.

⁂ OBEDIENT.

Jack will always find his way home to you out of loyalty. it's his obedience that leaves you both fulfilled.

⁂ PHASES.

Jack's phases mirror the moon.

[plush-rabbit]

It's Always Coffee

Request: Hello!!! I was wondering if you could write a like enemies to lovers between The spot before he becomes The spot (so basically Jonathann Ohnn) where the reader is a journalist who is investigating what is going on at Alchemax? And it would be nice if in the end you could include a part whit the reader and The Spot after he becomes it. Thank you so much!! <3

A/N: I’m on a fucking high for this guy!! Hope you like it<3 (this isnt necessarily an enemies to lovers but its something!!)

Word Count: 3.2K

-

You sit at an empty chair pushed against the wall of the coffee shop, your gaze focused on the screen of the laptop, the cursor blinking as the words stop. The bell dings, and you look up, catching a look of a familiar doctor walking up to the counter and fumbling with his wallet to pay. You smile, keeping your eye on him, a part of you hoping that he would turn around and see you. 

No doubt feeling the gaze of someone on him, he peers around as his transaction ends. His eyes meet yours and your grin stretches, a cheeky grin stretching over your features. You wave at him, dropping your gaze to return to your work, a newfound hit of inspiration causing you to type away at the keyboard.

Keeping your attention on the screen, you bite down the smile as someone takes a seat in the chair next to you. You can feel his gaze on you, and you keep your gaze focused on the screen. The cursor stops and blinks at you, and as you type, your backspace, unable to make the sentence flow as you’d like. With a sigh, you grab your drink and take a sip.

“Are you following me?” He asks, and finally you turn to face the doctor.

“You know, a hello is usually a common way to greet people, Dr. Ohnn.” You place your cup down, turning your attention towards him. He narrows his eyes at you. “Technically, I should be asking you that. I was the first one here. If anything, I should be accusing you of following me.” He stays silent and you smile at him. “I can assure you that I am not following you. Honestly, I didn’t even think you knew about this place. You seem more like the type to make your drinks at home.”

He pulls his lips into a line and fixes himself in his seat. “Usually, I am. I only recently found this shop. It’s one of the few shops that offers distinct blends of coffee.” You snort and he shoots you a pointed look.

You hold your hands in front of you in mock defense, closing them and returning them to your keyboard. You don’t miss the glance that he gives to your screen. “I never took you to be such a connoisseur of coffee,” you admit. “How long have you been frequenting this place?”

He stays silent, and turns his attention to where the baristas work behind the counter. “Past two weeks,” he tells you, returning his gaze to look at you.

“Ah,” you sigh. “I found this place maybe a month ago.”

“I didn’t know you enjoyed coffee,” he admits.

You shrug. “I’m a reporter. It’s kinda in the requirements to enjoy coffee.”

Silence befalls between the two of you, and he turns his attention to where the baristas work. Your fingers dance over your keyboard. You chew on the inside of your cheek when you feel his gaze on you once more. He turns to look at your screen where you type, fingers slowing down as you turn to look at him with an expecting grin. “Can I help you, Dr. Ohnn?”

He doesn’t look the slightest bit embarrassed about being caught, instead, he shoots you a narrowed look. “What are you writing about?” 

“If you must know-” his eyes dart over the words, and you grab the top of your laptop, pulling it down to block him from reading any further- “it’s about a local animal shelter.” You lift the screen back to its standing position, and take a sip of your drink. He huffs and looks away, crossing a leg over the other. You take a peek through your peripheral vision, and return to typing. “The shelter is doing a little event where you can walk or play with an animal for an hour, and each person will receive a five-dollar gift card to a coffee shop.”  

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “That sounds nice.” 

You scoff out a laugh. “Does that satiate your curiosity?”  Your fingers tap over the keys as you try to come up with the finishing sentence. “Honestly, no wonder you dislike me when I question you as you do your job.” You give him a teasing smile, and he straightens, pushing up his glasses from the bottom rim with his knuckle.

“I don’t-” he clears his throat at your expectant gaze and shakes his head. “What coffee shop is allowing that? I’d assume it would have to be a local one.”

“You’re correct.” You point at him, pulling away from your screen and leaning against the back of the chair. You tilt your head, raising your brows at him with your smile growing. “Wanna wager on it? If you guess the shop, I’ll buy a coffee from there.”

“Do you know how many coffee shops are in this area alone?” He glowers at you, uncrossing his legs and leaning back against the chair. “Unless I have unlimited guesses, I won’t be able to figure it out in such a short amount of time.”

You hum, turning to look at your screen. You click your tongue and tap a finger against your chin.”Okay,” you draw out, “I’ll give you a hint.” You turn to look back at him, arms crossed over your chest. “It’s one of the only shops around that offers such distinct blends of coffee,” you raise the pitch of your voice, an awful attempt at mimicking the words once said, 

“I do not sound like that,” he pouts. 

You snicker, dropping your head and giving him a wide grin. “Ah, so you’ve guessed it?”

He turns his head, and back at you. “Obviously,” he says with a roll of his eyes. “Why would this place partner with a random shelter?”

“The shelter is a family friend with the owner from here,” you explain. “So they partnered up since the shelter is low on staff.” You grab your drink, swishing the liquid around. “It’s a nice idea-” you place your drink back down- “and they have ads placed all over, so I’m hoping that this article just boosts it up a bit more, you know.”

“Will you be participating?” he asks.

“Probably not,” you answer. “I like animals as much as the next person, but I get attached much too fast.” You turn to him. “I don’t think I could part with a dog. What about you?”

Dr. Ohnn lifts a hand, twirling a strand of hair around his finger before letting it fall back into place. “Probably not. As is, I don’t have the time to myself. What little time I do have, I much prefer to spend it by myself.”

“You’re worked to the bone, huh?” You give him a sad smile, turning your attention back to the screen. You feel his eyes on you. “That blows.” He says nothing. “I get it. You enjoy what you can. In this case, while it’s a noble cause, it’s definitely more for the people who have the time.” You turn to him. “And those who enjoy coffee.”

“I hope your article is able to put the word out,” he tells you without a hint of sarcasm laced into his words. Your ankles cross, and you pull them close to the underside of the chair.

“Yeah-” you backspace a word, only to rewrite it- “me too.”

You hear his name get called, and the both of you turn to where a barista places the drink on the counter. He stands, and stays in front of his seat. Craning his neck, he looks to you, and you blink up at him. 

“Hey, you already paid for your drink, I can’t cover this one,” you say, raising your hands in front of you. “Maybe next time?”

“Next time?”

Another name is called, and in the corner of your eyes, you watch as the person scurries to pick up their drink. “Sure. Next time,” you confirm. You suck in a breath, and hold your drink in your hand, nerves causing your stomach to flip upon itself. “I’m uh, free tomorrow.”

He frowns. “I’m not.”

You cringe upon yourself, and bite the inside corners of your lips to stop from wincing. “Then, whenever. Or I could just pay you now for your drink. I think that’ll even it out. That way we won’t have to meet again.”

“No,” he blurts out. You look at him with raised brows. “I’d rather meet. I did win your little wager,” he says. “I’ll try to find time.” He bites his bottom lip, and clears his throat. “I believe I’m owed that after all.”

Hope makes your heartbeat quicken, and you can’t stop the smile that grows. “Okay. You’re welcome to sit by me if you’re not in a rush.” He stutters for a second, and you smile up at him. “Relax. I won’t question you. For now.” He pulls a face and you let out a small laugh. “It’s a joke. We can just be two people who met at a coffee shop. Not a reporter or scientist, just me and you.”

Without an answer, he walks towards the counter, and you watch his movement. You watch as he grabs the cup and places the rim against his lips. You watch as he pulls out his phone, and looks to the door and looks back at you. You aren’t sure what’s compelled you to invite the scientist to sit with you- it isn’t as if the two of you are friends, or anything of the sort. However, in the short conversation where work for you and annoyance for him was absent, you enjoyed talking to him. Just a bit. Not enough to admit it, but enough to invite him to sit with you. He turns a foot towards the door, and you give him a final smile, raising your hand in a goodbye, looking down at your screen. 

It’s no bother. All you really are to him is a reporter with pestering questions about his line of work, it would be a no-brainer as to why he wouldn’t want to sit with you. However, it doesn’t stop the disappointment that weighs you down. You write the last sentence of the article and sigh.

Someone sits by you, and you give a glance, lifting yourself straight when you find the scientist perched at the seat, holding his drink in his hand with his body turned towards you. 

“Are you almost done with your article?” You nod, glancing back down to save the file despite the automatic save feature working on its own. “Good, good.” He turns to look at the door, and back to you. “Would you like to go for a walk?”

 You close your laptop, and hold it by the edges. “As a reporter and a scientist? Or as-”

“As me and you.” His feet tap against the floor. “I understand if you’re busy or-”

“I’d love to go for a walk.” You hadn’t realized how tense he was, until his shoulders fall at your words, a small smile tilting the corners of his lips upwards. “You got an idea of where to go or do you want to walk aimlessly?” You grab your messenger bag, delicately placing your laptop into its designated sleeve. 

You follow behind him, clutching your nearly empty drink in your hand. Your bag pats against your side, and you bend to walk underneath his arm as he holds the door open. 

“You’re supposed to wait for the door to open fully,” he tells you, fixing the sleeves of the black undershirt. 

“And you’re supposed to answer someone’s question before walking away, Dr. Ohnn.” You pull yourself straight. “Guess we both have some learning to do.” He rolls his eyes, and continues forward, and you follow behind him. 

The air is warm- not uncomfortably so, but enough to know that summer is creeping in. You smile at people who you make eye contact with. Dr. Ohnn walks without saying a word, but when you stray far too behind to peer into a window full of jewelry, he walks back to you.

“I didn’t take you for a jewelry person,” he admits. 

“I’m not usually,” you answer, “but I have to admit that some of it is pretty.” You straighten yourself and look at him through the reflection. “I much prefer dainty types of jewelry. What about you?” His brows furrow at the window, and you take his answer through the reflection. “Are you a jewelry person?”

“I’m a fan of watches, does that count?”

“Huh,” you click your tongue. “I think so.” Pulling away from the window, you walk down the crowded street. Soon enough, he walks beside you again. “I never really could find a watch that suited me.” You flex out your hand and twist at your wrist. “I think I’m just bad at choosing things.”

“How do you tell time then?”

You let out a small laugh. “Dr. Ohnn, we live in a place where most people have cell phones.” His shoulders perk at the words, and a flush deepens the hue on his face. “I’ll manage to tell time without a watch.” You take a sip of your drink, and all that remains is ice and a bottom rim of a watered down version of your drink. “I’m not sure how you’ll manage, though.” You exchange the cup to your other hand and raise your now free hand, flexing your wrist. “Naked wrist and all.” You jerk your head over to his, and he covers it with his hand.

“I forgot,” he answers defensively. “Simple mistake. Anyone could have made it.” He clears his throat, and takes a swig at his drink. 

“Oh, I’m sure,” you tease. 

Peeking a trash can further up ahead and no longer wanting to hold your cup for the next few minutes, you rush forward to toss your drink. You dart through the crowd, mumbling apologies and sticking your tongue out a person who mutters a curse towards you. Tossing your drink into the trash, you wait for Dr. Ohnn to catch up to you. He stands by you, downing the drink before tossing the empty cup into the trash.

“Why’d you want to work for Fisk anyways?” He gives you a look. “Off the record, I swear!” You raise your hands in front of you in mock surrender. “I’m curious. You’re a scientist, and I’m positive you’re good at your job. So why work for him? Why not work for anyone else?”

“Why write articles?” You frown at him for avoiding your questions. “Plenty of others do it. Plenty of other agencies will offer to help you write the story you so desperately chase. So why stick to that one agency?”

“Okay, Dr. Ohnn. I’ll let you escape answering my questions, only-” you point your index finger at him- “and only because I’m feeling quite open to speaking. If you must know why I stick to my agency, I do it because I’m familiar with it.” He stops for a second, and continues his strides. “I like it there. Fluff pieces and all. We can’t all be journalists willing to die for a story, and while I’m very curious about what you do, I am willing to at least push the limits of how far I can go.” You look at him. “It’s not the most meaningful sentiment, but it’s mine, so if you make fun of it-” you falter, unable to come up with some threat- “I won’t buy you your coffee,” you conclude with the threat. You begin to pull away, one step in front of him when he stops you. 

“I wouldn’t make fun of you,” he says with his hand wrapped around your elbow.

“Oh,” your voice comes out softer than intended. You turn to give a weak cough. “Cool. Thanks. I guess you get to keep your free coffee then.”

“You think I’m good at my job?”

You smile at him, and standing on the sidewalk- even if pushed close to the building- does the two of you no favors. A stranger rushes by, and you’re pushed closer to him. The grip on his elbow tightens, and you take note of his hand. His fingers are long, and thick, and they hold onto you tightly, nails scratching at your skin. You turn your gaze.

“Yes, and before we get shoved again, let’s continue walking.” You pull ahead, and his grip on your arm falls. Turning your head to make sure that he’s behind you, you start. “I do think you’re good at your job. That’s why I try to do mine.” You give him a glance, and smooth out your shirt. “It is how it is. Too bad you’re good at it, you had to meet me.”

“What else?” He asks and you tilt your head at him. “What else do you think of my work?”

“I don’t know. I tried to read the papers that you’ve written along with a few other scientists that study along the same lines, but it was all words to me. No offense.” You give him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure you know what you’re talking about, and in some pages, I could feel the excitement, ya know? Like- Like when you started to talk about black holes and stuff. Were you always interested in stuff like that?”

His hand reaches to the back of his neck and he scratches at himself. “Mm, not necessarily black holes, but other stuff. One thing led to another.” He turns a corner and you follow close behind, catching at every word that escapes from him. “Not many people outside of my profession read what I have to offer,” he says in a low voice. “Thank you,” he says your name gently and you can feel heat burn at the shell of your ears. 

“Yeah, no problem. It was a long read, but um- it was interesting and stuff.” You try to stop the grin that grows, and tug on the strap of your messenger bag. “If you have the time, I wouldn’t mind-” You're cut off by a phone ringing and you stay silent, watching as he pats his pockets.

 “Ah,” he pulls out his phone and quickly reads the message. Looking back up at you, he seems almost apologetic. “I apologize. I- I have to go. Something work related just came up.” He lifts his phone as proof, but you can’t read the words with the glare of the sun. “We’ll continue this later?”

The words take a second to process, and when they do, you can feel your heart race. “Oh!” You perk up. “Yeah- yeah, of course.” He smiles at you, and takes a step forward. He’s close enough where you can smell the cologne on him. “Um-” his voice squeaks, and he clears his throat. He lifts a hand and pats at your shoulder. “This was fun. Thank you for accompanying me on the walk.” He gives you a tense smile and walks away without a goodbye. 

You stand on the sidewalk and watch. He turns around, and you lift your hand in a wave, and he does the same. 

You frown when you realize you never received his number.

[valerielemercier]

Quai Jonathann

[lovesickvalentines]

Hihi! Maybe lilting voice, intimate knowledge, and/or cherished memories, with whoever you please. Or maybe a different f/o for each one? Or maybe you only want to do one of the asks, however youd like to do it id love to read your answer <⁠(⁠￣⁠︶⁠￣⁠)⁠>!

hihihihihihi! i shall do them all bcs i am greeeeedy. doing jonathann bcs i love him so dearly.

lilting voice ୧ ‧₊˚ how does their voice sound to you ? what does their laughter sound like to your ears ? do their whispers sound like the most saccharine song of the nightingales ? is their tone as smooth and rich as velvet or is it scratchy, a little grating, but nonetheless charming in its own way ? is it possibly that they don’t have a voice at all ? if not, do their other ways of communication still captivate you ?

Jonathan has a softer, higher voice than you might expect from such a big guy. It's a sound that brings pure comfort, I know when I hear him that I am safe. Especially when he speaks to me he tends to be a bit quieter and gentler, even long after we become comfortable with each other. Otherwise he's pretty loud, especially his laugh. He can light up any room.

intimate knowledge ୧ ‧₊˚ what are some hidden features of your fﾉo that not many people are privy to ? things like a secret birthmark, the fact that they are ambidextrous, the bump on their nose that is actually the result of breaking it as a child. do these small facts about them fascinate you ? do the stories behind them make you swoon for them even more, if possible ?

Pretty famously he does have a birthmark on his shoulder... I kiss and trace it with my fingers a lot, its so curious how perfect of a star it is. So many freckles, not just his face, all over his arms, shoulders, and back too. I love just staring at him, which he's shy about, taking in the beauty of him.

cherished memories ୧ ‧₊˚ moments have the tendency to sear themselves into one's mind. are there any particularly fond memories you share with your fﾉo that stand out among the rest ?

A bit cliche but our first kiss... we'd known each other for a few weeks but still were a bit nervous around each other. I am a vampire and he'd yet to encounter one that wasn't evil and I had grown major trust issues after being turned by Dio. But Jonathan rescued me and gave me a new home, trying to take care of me. It was quiet and we weren't sure what to say but it just felt right. Every kiss with him feels like home.

[satanscure]

hello hello ! my name is sammy , i'm twenty five and go by they / them pronouns . welcome to satanscure , a discord exclusive roleplay account where i am reblogging resources such as : wanted fcs , wanted plots , mature content and other aspects that relate to my writing wants .

as a partner , i'm really big on worldbuilding . be prepared for me obsessing over our things , creating manips / edits , playlists , headcanons , threads , and more .

i also write fxm , mxm , fxf ships as well as poly ships . i do not prioritize ships over another so expect fun times all around .

for triggers / limits , i will go as far to say that i relatively do not have any boundaries but i will not write anything involve : noncon , dubcon , incest , scat or anything too .. in that realm of things .

below the cut as a list of my favorite faces + could also serve as a most wanted list as well !

femme :

aisha potter . ana de armas . alexa demie . becky g . camila morrone . chloe bailey . cindy kimberly . dina denoire . dua lipa . ester exposito . hailee steinfeld . halle bailey . laura harrier . lily - rose depp . leigh - anne pinnock . madelyn cline . madison bailey . melissa calma . mishti rahman . nicole wallace . normani . priscilla quintana . ryan destiny . sabrina carpenter . samantha logan . shay mitchell . sofia carson . sydney sweeney . victoria monet . yara shahidi . zahara davis . zendaya .

hommes :

abel carden . aj saudin . andre lamoglia . alex fitzalan . alex pastrana . alvaro mel . aron piper . avan jogia . casey deidrick . charlie hunnam . charles melton . chase stokes . cody christian . corrado martini . dacre montgomery . dominic fike . drew starkey . dylan o’brien . evan mock . fai khadra . fernando lindez . froy gutierrez . gavin leatherwood . gus kenworthy . hootie hurley . jacob elordi . jonathann davis . jordan fisher . keith powers . luke hemmings . luis capecchi . manu rios . mason gooding . matthew daddario . matthew noszka . michael evans behling . niall horan . nick jonas . omar apollo . oscar issac . rafael silva . sebastian stan . sergio momo . tom hardy . tom holland . tommy martinez . trevor jackson . tyler posey .

[vurrisntthere]

I'm so happy about welcome to hell 2 AAAAAAAA

JONATHANN IS SO 😭😻😭😭😞FUCKIGN EXPLODES

SOCK IS SO CUTE HES SO SILLY ILL HUG HIM N LIKE GUYS THE VOICE ACTING IS SO COOL IM GONNA EXPLODE AGAIn

[hcgsstore]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Funko Pop Television: QE Queer Eye - Jonathann Van Ness (,NEW).

[my82ic]

AVzzims.

AVzzim, Charles A. Knopf (ed.), Psychology in the Language of America and Italy, MacMillan (2005).. George G. Campbell & Jonathann Smith (August 2006) AVzzim 바로가기: AVzzim에 대해 더 알아보기 “Lingue Studies”: Interpretation by The Elizabe, Robert J. Dickinson, John F. Blooming, Richard L. Nelson (Bostock/New York : Houghtons 1993). O’Denis Artman (Clementine’s New School Press) Another edition to contain…

[mirandamckenni1]

Liked on YouTube: Therapist Reacts to EMMA relationship advice || https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SNeKnW3wJkc || Head to https://ift.tt/3Pw8OxE to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain using code cinematherapy! How do you make amends for past mistakes? Have you ever played matchmaker? Emma Woodhouse, thinks she knows everything about relationships. Jonathann Decker, an actual, professional, licensed therapist, knows way more about relationships. Who will win in this duel for the ages? Together with filmmaker Alan Seawright, Jonathan discusses Emma’s matchmaking, selfish motives, and how her own insecurities affect her relationships. Jonathan distinguishes between wanting to help people and Emma’s amusement at playing with people’s lives. He praises Jane Austen’s ability to observe and understand human psychology, and Alan compares her to Aaron Sorkin - no one talked like that! They pay tribute to the incredible performances from the whole cast, especially Anya Taylor-Joy, and Alan fanboys about the film's staging and blocking. He wants to go to Autumn de Wilde film school. Join our Patreon: https://ift.tt/EjAv0NF Try Internet Dads Popcorn, it's corny! ctpopcorn.com Cinema Therapy is: Written by: Megan Seawright, Jonathan Decker, and Alan Seawright Produced by: Jonathan Decker, Megan Seawright, Alan Seawright, Sophie Téllez, and Corinne Demyanovich Edited by: Sophie Téllez Director of Photography: Bradley Olsen English Transcription by: Anna Preis

[lucassinclaer-archive]

— jackie and wilson by hozier inspired by @storybook-tiles [ID in alt]

[sir-davey]

Fun fact: I have headcanon voices for everyone in the book of Samuel lmao

For David and Jonathan tho, I headcanon David with Josh Young (who played Judas in Jesus Christ Superstar) and Jonathan with Caleb Hyles (he’s a YouTube cover artist don’t judge me lmao 😭 the covers he did for the Prince of Egypt got me screaming Jonathan Jonathann Jonathannnn)

And so, I might make animatics of their songs LOL

David -

Jonathan -

[evilwizardcrab]

Yo! This honestly got a better response than I expected, so instead of just some AU notes here's the first ~500 words of the fanfiction itself (I'll also add actual AU notes if people want that)

At first glance, Jon had to admit the Jonah Magnus comprehensive looked almost impressive. Viewed in isolation, the intimidating red-brick facade of the schoolhouse stood out like a historic thumb, sheltered from the bustle of inner-city London by a looming pair of wrought iron gates. 

Of course- as he had learnt on the walk there - that illusion was shattered the moment you glanced beyond the original; a mess of extensions and blocks growing out of the historic core like an overaged, underfunded government fungus. Not to mention the evident wear and tear of the place- even the pavement beneath his feet being littered with gum and cigarette butts. If he squinted, Jon found he could read the tarnished copper sign above the door -  “Audio. Opperior. Vigilo." - presumably their motto?

After analysing the scene for longer than he probably should (out of genuine curiosity, and absolutely not procrastination) Jonathan Sims sighed, adjusted his tie and reached up to press the doorbell. 

The gates swung open before he even had the chance to ring. 

Mr Bouchard was a tall, sharp eyed man whose handshake had been deceptively strong as he welcomed Jon into his “Fine Educational Institution” - a phrase that probably would have been laughable if it wasn’t being delivered by his (hopefully) future employer. 

Although, sitting on a leather-cushioned chair in an oak panelled and clearly very historically important office, Jon understood where some of that attitude came from. The cloying smell of wood varnish and heavy fountain pens, combined with the finely tailored suit of the man before him practically screamed “institution”.

The opening questions were all standard fare. How would you describe yourself? (Desperate, although they certainly already knew that) What inspired you to work here? (Well it wasn’t like many other schools were hiring English teachers mid-term) What relevant skills do you have for this position? (An utter lack of a personal life to distract from overwork). 

All the expected questions, answered succinctly beneath Bouchard's stern gaze, and that of the dozen or so framed portraits looming on the wall behind him (previous heads of the school, as he had been enthusiastically told.)

But then things had gotten a bit … weird. 

“Mr Sims.” Bouchard had said with a smile, pale fingers steepled over a dark mahogany desk . “I have to admit, your responses so far have been quite … satisfactory, if I do say so myself.” - Jon tried to hide his sigh of relief - “But” -goddammit - “There are certain, perhaps off the books aspects of The Joanah Magnus Comprehensive that I feel somewhat of a need to vet you on, if you don’t so happen to mind.”

Jon, blinked, taken aback. Off the books? He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.. Criminal activity? No, Mag-Comp didn’t seem to be in a bad enough area to warrant that level of disorder. Abuse? Unlikely. Secret satanic cults? He couldn’t exactly afford to care.

“No.” He paused, “No, I- don’t believe I mind.” Not even the crisp air of professionalism could hide the nervous strain in that voice. Bouchard’s smile only widened, and he leant across the desk near conspiratorially. 

“Jonathann Sims.” He asked in a succinct, clear voice: “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Considering writing a teacher!Jon AU where he's the newly hired english teacher at the Jonah Magnus Comprehensive (mag-comp for short); a private all-boys boarding school turned state school some time in the 90s. Which may or may not be infamously haunted (not that Jon belives in any of that. of course. even if he does teach in the oldest, dare I say spookiest part of campus). Featuring the archival staff as fellow teachers and most of the avatars as students. Shenaigans, romance and maybe something a bit deeper ensue.

(will reblog with more detailed au notes if people are interested!)

[daeneryssansa]

Hey, it’s gonna be okay. As a wise man once said, we’ve got shared trauma.           So what’s a little more, right?

[fletchermarple]

Alexia Daval (29) was reported missing by her husband Jonathann on October 28, 2017. He said the previous evening she’d gone out jogging, as she usually did, and hadn’t come back.

Jonathann Daval was the poster image of the distraught husband. He gave tearful speeches in front of the cameras, flanked by Alexia’s concerned parents, begged whoever had taken his wife to come forward and organized searches for her. France was gripped by the tragedy, joining Jonathann in his grief over his missing wife.

The search didn’t go on for long. On October 30, Alexia’s body was found in the woods near her home in Gray-la-ville, a commune in eastern France. Her identity had to be confirmed through DNA, because the body had been badly burned. An autopsy showed it was likely she had been beaten and strangled, and burned to hide evidence.

After an exhaustive investigation and over 200 people questioned, police felt sure enough that despite his tears, Jonathann was behind the murder. When he’d reported Alexia missing, invesigators had noticed the scratches and bite marks in his hands. He admitted that before going jogging, he and Alexia had a violent argument. Eventually, he confessed to the murder, saying it had been an accident and he hadn’t meant to kill her. He left her body in the woods, but denied burning the body, so some people suspect he didn’t act alone, although he has insisted he did. Alexia’s parents, for instance, were saying they wanted a DNA comparison to a man who killed himself in January, thinking he might be involved.

Jonathann’s defense lawyer tried to subtly place the blame on the victim, acknowledging there were “strong tensions” in the relationship and that his client had suffered “verbal violence” from his wife. He said: “Alexia had an overbearing personality, so he felt diminished, stifled.” He added these things had made it unable for him to control himself during their final, fatal fight.

This statement enraged the minister for gender equality in France, Marlene Schiappa, who wisely said: “By saying that, you legitimise femicide, you legitimise the fact that every three days, a woman is killed by her partner, and I find it extremely dangerous to relay that. It’s not a row, it’s not a crime of passion, it’s a murder. We must stop playing down conjugal violence, stop trying to find excuses. Nothing, nothing justifies beating one’s wife or partner.”