#jonny you stupid stupid poor thing

[wilkoakdraws]

Hello demons, it's ya boy, Johnatan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Insitute London My brain was recently eaten alive by The Magnus archives , therefore. fanart commence

[annabelle--cane]

I got into tma in 2022 on a road trip with no internet and then only tangentially interacted with the fandom (light hcs, fanart) and I am. so compelled to understand what the fandom was like in 2020. what were the takes. why was it so awful. does it explain why every time I try to look into protocol I get a rancid Vibe and jump back 5 feet.

to preface: on scale, it really wasn't any worse than your average fandom, it just A) got Very popular over a short period and B) that period was during a time of particularly high stress where many people suddenly could only experience a social life online. tma is also a fairly political and progressive work, which inevitably leads to certain kinds of Takes. it also got Very popular right at the point where the episodes were reaching their peak of explicit social commentary and sustained morbid tone, which, especially combined with point B from above, drew out some really visceral reactions from a lot of people. nothing was actually inherently rancid about 2020-2021 tma fandom, there was just a bit of a perfect storm of factors.

having said that. some common discourse themes:

the perennial shipping discourse. georgie is the only one of our leads to have never killed a person, but really, I pinky promise that your ship between two unrepentant serial killers is 100x more problematic than my ship between two unrepentant serial killers.

asexuality: how dangerous is it? on a scale of 1-5, with 1 being "mostly" to 5 being "completely," how humiliating is it to be asexual? what is the singular true asexual experience that is unproblematic to write about?

wow, jonny was so out of line for writing this episode, what gives him the right to--oh he said it's directly based on personal experiences? so sorry, my bad, I'll learn for next time. wow, jonny was so out of line for writing this epi--

I did not like this episode. this is obviously a direct act of violence against me. why would an episode be Not Good when there is, in the world, Sadness?

hello, I have sorted all of the characters into a simple chart that clearly delineates which of them are completely irredeemable monsters with no interiority or motives and which of them are perfect angel victims who have only ever been nice and never hurt anyone, ever (and if they did hurt someone then that person deserved it). if I see you adding nuance to any of my rulings, I will kill you. this also extends to the podcast writers. #ilovebinaries.

the characters... are queer... and maybe even other marginalized identities as well... and yet, they do bad things? there's not even a single completely morally innocent character? by god, did they not think about the implications this might have!

web!martin. lol people are so stupid for thinking that the theory is at all plausible, media comprehension much? that would lichrally imply that a queer, poor, mentally ill character might be capable of badness. what do you mean we are currently listening to an arc where he's an accomplice to serial murder.

[space--rat]

Tim In The City headcanons

obviously tim is Persephone. obviously

Why though. That's the important question.

my headcanon. He wanted to wreak havoc on the City, but he doesn't take pleasure in pure violence like Jonny does when he's "depopulating it"

he gets to the city and violence is so boring here it's just Everywhere

so instead he gets ahold of brian's flowers and just starts fuckin throwing em around like a flower girl

and he's right it's WAY more destructive than killing ppl

the olympians get nervous there are FLOWERS in their STREETS they'll all technically dead of course because they've been picked but WHERE THE FUCK ARE ALL THESE FLOWERS COMING FROM

meanwhile this is looking to the lower classes like a sign of rebellion of some variety. some take to it, some don't. its risky to side with someone loudly pissing off olympians

obvs Hades™ gets wind of this and while it is objectively hilarious, it's also kinda messing with their steeze

So while the olympians are all pissy, Hades makes a show of """""capturing""""" persephone

oh good Hades has got it taken care of We're Good

they tell all the olympians, maybe even show them, that uh oh this thing doesn't die either.

now what

Hades steps up to take care of this!! dw y'all, they'll keep this Rapscallion locked up good and tight

well tim and ashes have a good hearty laugh about it but they are kinda in each others business

so they make it a game

tim's been caught, so he stays for six months. at the end of the six months, if he can get out, he's free for another six months to throw brian's poor flowers around to his heart's content. then ashes gets him captured again.

on and on and on

the olympians catch on, but ashes makes a very good show of convincing them that they're trying their best, really they are, and also in control of the acheron so literally stfu

maybe the other olympians step in eventually and try to capture him in his freedom time, but the mechanisms are decidedly bad at staying in custody and it never sticks long

eventually they just accept that the only person capable of keeping him in one place for any extended period of time is Hades O'Reilly and they're gonna have to deal with the fact that every six months flowers are going to just Be in places like skyrim cheese wheels

so it goes literally forever until they burn the acheron

bonus: "you bring your song to us" it's tim who goes Come on look at him. look how cute he is. he's singing, ashes. he's very stupid. we also sing and are very stupid and ashes offers the job to orpheus knowing he doesn't really have the stomach for it just so tim, who has decidedly no sense of how to properly be a crime boss god, will shut the everloving fuck up

[itspkuwu]

Why I Think Marie Kanker Can Be A Good Person

I truly don’t think that Marie is really “evil” (unlike Lee). Even in the show, she does have some nice moments. My conclusion: Marie is only the way she is due to being under Lee’s bad influence.

People would say that it’s only May who’s under the bad influence. But let’s really think about this. We’ve seen Marie vent out her anger in Hanky Panky Hullaballoo in a HEALTHY way through painting. Sure, her art was passive aggressive, but nobody was actually getting hurt. Even if it was only shown once.

And Marie isn’t individualistic like May. Marie relies on Lee for practically everything. Imagine if Lee wasn’t around. Would Marie be as cruel? Would she be jabbing at May? Because Lee often says things like “Good one, Marie.” whenever Marie does jab at May. So the backup “support” from Lee is still fueling Marie’s train. Every bad thing Marie does comes from Lee.

Oh and another thing! When Marie was bickering with Jonny over the pie slice. Was Lee around? No. Therefore, did Marie see the need to pummel him? No.

Like I said, when Lee isn’t around, Marie will fight vocally. But not physically. Case and point: This scene from Hanky Panky Hullaballoo

Lee is even the one who points out to Marie that Double D is “flirting”. And instead of instantly going after May with direct anger, the scene fades out to show Marie venting through passive aggressive painting, which is actually a healthy way to deal with anger. This time, unlike other times, she was able to hold herself back. For the sake of not wanting to hurt her little sister again. And she’s not even facing Lee, most likely knowing Lee already disapproves of her artwork.

But unlike in Fistful of Ed when Marie was fighting with Jonny over the pie slice, Lee is around. The frustration of wanting to know what’s on those cards Jonny’s running with, and thinking that Double D is her significant other, sparking jealousy, is already bad enough, but remembering that Lee can clearly see what’s she’s doing, and probably already aware that Lee is expecting her to use violence, and is even watching over her argument with Jonny…

This is what causes Marie to snap. The peer pressure of needing to prove her reliability.

So, if not for the bad influence from her older sister, who is Marie Kanker?

If you look hard enough, Marie is actually pretty smart.

She’s logical and wanted to call the cops when the ship in a bottle was stolen.

And no, this isn’t like in A Twist Of Ed where Lee also wanted to call the cops. Lee only used that as a last resort. Meanwhile it was Marie’s first, and actual reasonable instinct.

She keeps her history with her, and corrected Double D when he thought it was “Eddy’s land”.

She also has an artist side. I’ve already shown her painting, but earlier on in the same episode, she referred to May as “Vincent Van Stinko”(which I’ll explain why she jabs at May further down) So Marie clearly knows famous artists from history.

She even seems to have a liking for mechanics. She became very excited when Eddy tricked her into thinking there was an abandoned car axel near by.

And it could be argued that they ALL have a thing for car mechanics, like when they’re all reading a magazine about tire irons, or when May says “I love truck tires!”

But this trait especially shines through with Marie in The Mis Ed-ventures video game. In The Nightmare On Ed Street level, The Eds are to bring a gift to each Kanker Sister. Marie’s gift is a can of axle grease.

Oh, and in case you’re curious, Lee’s gift is another stupid ship in a bottle, and May’s gift is a book about taxidermy. (poor girl probably thought it was about stuffed animal toys)

And I don’t know if it’s just me, but I swear I can only hear Marie and May giggling and being excited over the tire irons magazine. Not Lee. Just listen:

Probably just another form of manipulation. Pretending to be just as thrilled as her sisters to keep their un deserved trust towards her. Or maybe I’m just crazy. But I prefer to go with the former.

And Marie DOES have really sweet moments. She was playing movie star with May and even hugged her later on in Homecooked Eds.

(i’m obsessed with this picture of them hugging) She used that same camera a lot in the episode so she’s into filming.

And most important of all: She doesn’t instigate like Lee. And I feel she only jabs at May to gain Lee’s approve. She’s afraid of Lee herself, and only uses violence when Lee is around. Like what I said before with Jonny and the pie slice.

In conclusion: I’d call Marie a creative individual. Who knows how to open her heart, but has it locked away again by Lee.

And Marie even jabs at Lee too. Probably to get back at her for making her bully May. My favorite example: When she yanked out Lee’s arm pit hair.

Marie was ignoring May when she asked her to flip her over. And right before Lee jumps onto Marie and goes “Can’t you hear your sister talkin to ya?”, probably to instigate more sarcastic teasing upon May, you can see Marie frowning a bit. She must’ve felt bad for her and maybe even regretful when she heard Lee tell May to shut up. And so, to get back at her, she seeks the opportunity to cause Lee even a little bit of physical harm and calls her a “sucker”.

To me, Lee is like this angry, evil villain boss. Meanwhile Marie and May are her two little “minions” who secretly want to leave, but are too afraid to. Or in this case, don’t know any better. And I’m just trying to proof that Marie DOES act like an actual person. Something I definitely cannot say about Lee. Think about it, what other character traits has Lee shown other than bully, creep, and (I guess) leader?????

I don’t really know how to end this post lol. So I’ll just say I’d like to hear your thoughts on Marie :3

[the-passenger-if]

I just finished my first run through a few seconds ago and all i have to say for now is 1. I cried because of Livvy like more than once and 2. I've fallen hard for horizon (like i'm not one for marriage but i'm lowkey about to get on one knee for them) and the epilogue with the rorizon poly had me actually fucking grinning and kicking my feet like a schoolgirl

combining it with

Just finished the game. Cried on several occasions. Also laughed out loud on several occasions. Then cried some more. Then went "haha loser" at Jonny bonking his head during *that* car scene LOL

and

finished my first play through . cried at multiple points. i tried to romance horizon but the ending i got did not allow that and it crushed me. i loved every second. 1000000000/10

also with

I'm trying to get as many endings as I can and I just wanted to tell you that [SPOILERS] abandoning Earth and Livvy actually made me cry, how dare u 🥲

and with

Can we talk for a moment of how you sneak up every now and then with little moments that absolutely break my heart? So I reread and reread and reread and there's still some punch in the feelings i haven't got yet?

Like yea, this is Roach with "nah, don't worry, the thing that hunted me don't exist anymore", this is Newman ready to absolutely wreck anyone stupid enough to hurt their bouncy ball of sunshine and this is me ugly crying in the corner because these poor little cosmic horrors will be the death of me.

Thank you, this is amazing and beautiful work

The tears of my players power me up >:)

[primusdemoniccreatrix]

Playing Sus Music Around The Slashers

This is me being stupid, inspired, and procrastinating. Enjoy the stupidity.

Also the song in reference: Man Areas by Jonny McGovern (might make a "Slashers React" series)

Warnings: cursing, indirect stripper and sex worker mentions, maybe bad imagery, memes, gore in some gifs

RZ Michael Myers:

Loud, thumping music? Okay, he's heard some thumping like this

Hears its about strippers and it brings a few memories and he feels iffy about it. He knows you don't disrespect them as you know about his past probably, and he questions your song choice, but believes its about appreciation, so no biggie, he guesses.

When the chorus goes then he's more stiff than usual, frozen in shock.

What

Hol' up-

What is this dude singing?

Finds out its about male strippers. Okay...the song is still questionable though

Is confused

Look he likes you marginally a lot more than most people but please, what the fuck

It soon becomes funny to him and he just...enjoys the bass, and the stupidity of the song.

Gremlin giant likes to play it to annoy you. Tables have turned.

Bo Sinclair:

likes the beat; for a pop song it's not too bad

then it gets to the lyrics.

SHUT IT OFF

NO SERIOUSLY SHUT IT OFFFFFF

Will cuss up a storm and look at you like you've grown a new head

What in the actual FUCK

Will yell at you to turn it off

If you don't he'll try to destroy the speaker run away with it, them shits expensive sometimes

He's like the woman who is trying to turn off Nicki Minaj's song on Vine

Is fighting for his life to turn off the speaker

IF you turn it off he'll cuss at you and tell you not to do it again.

IF you don't, it'll lead to a bigger tirade and broken machinery.

You've been banned from music for 72 hours

Disappointed DadTM facepalm

He'll be laughing about it in a few more days' time tho.

Vincent Sinclair:

Not one for pop music as he enjoys the classics and metal, but will let you play your music

The lyrics go on and he's just...confused. What's this about strippers and things? The singer likes strip clubs, like Bo? Okay...why hype them up?

Then it gets to the chorus-

Is frozen for a second

The poor boy just looks so dumbfounded. You could have hit him with a chair and he'd be less stunned

WHAT IS THIS?!

Turn it off, turn it off, please-

He's getting second-hand embarrassment

He's hoping to GOD it doesn't wake up Bo. These are thin floors, pLEASE-

He'll reach for the speakers, silently begging you to turn it off. He cares and respects you and won't touch if you stop him but please he's begging you tUrN iT oFF-

IF you turn it off, he'd be very grateful and then ask a flurry of questions in sign language. His posture and gestures scream 'wHY??'

IF you don't turn it off, Oh lord if Bo hears this, he is never gonna live it down. He'll exile you from the studio for 2 weeks. You're not getting near him with that.

You didn't hear this from me but now every time he makes a male wax figure he has to stop every few minutes and breathe because of the intrusive thoughts that song gives him. PLEASE spare him, his mind is racing more than enough as it is.

Lester Sinclair:

You're blasting it in his truck

At first, thinks its about strippers. Okay, not bad. Cool, so like, women hot, right?

The chorus hits-

As do the brakes.

Will sit there for a full minute, not moving, looking confusedly at the radio blaring that song and then look at you like he just saw a hit deer get up and walk while literally being inches from death.

Wordlessly goes to turn it off.

You stop his hand.

Look, he respects you and cares about you a hella lot but what the hell

He'll ask you one time to please stop the song, then you tell him its a prank

Well two can play that game and he kinda wants to be cool and chill with you, bestie

He'll start bumping to the song along with you, but refuses to sing along if you are

Starts laughing, it becomes his hype song that he listens to in private for shits and giggles

Shows Bo and Vincent, who just tell him to get lost

Congratulations, you've given him enough ammunition to destroy the Sinclair braincells (which are a grand total of 3.5)

Gabriel May:

Vine voice: bITCH WHAT THE FUCK- WhUt ThE fUcK-

Power of electricity: used

Music devices? Shut off

Your music? Cancelled.

You've been banned from music

He actually thinks its hilarious and is gonna use it on Maddy every time she sees a man, be it romantically or just a fleeting glance and thinking they're aesthetically pleasing

He's got a playlist of sus music cause he can roam the internet and its 2021-22, so-

Will never let you live this down. Will make you regret showing it to him.

Menace with a speaker. What have you done?

Freddy Krueger:

Look I don't know shit about this man other than he's a menace and I haven't watched any of his movies yet but with the context I have, he loves it because its so awful and putrid in his opinion that he'll infect everyone's dreams with it and he'll torment any men and women and non-binaries, anyone at all. He will use this religiously. I have a bad feeling about it unless you both like it, if you do enjoy it, you'll be the reason of the Cringe-pocalypse, you dynamic duo.

Gremlin

(I only did these few slashers cause these are all the ones I know so far, but hey, enjoy lol. My bestie made me listen to it so now I must infect you all with it)

Also PSA: I understand that some things mentioned can be triggering, and I am talking about sex work, but if you are not triggered and just an asshole about sex workers and think of them as inferior I will personally invite you to eat my ass cause you eat shit and that apparently fuels your brain. All workers matter here, all professions are valid and deserve to be made safer and sex work is created by demand so if you want people stuck in it to be helped, stop the demand not the supplier who is just trying their best. And no one, NO ONE, dare talk shit about sex workers who enter the profession and enjoy it and like it so much. Fuck off. It's their choice, not yours. Let people live.

[disaster-by-chance]

Finally got around to watching Season 4 of Cobra Kai and oh boy,,

Sometimes this show is just painful to watch. And I get it, it's a Netflix original, the acting and production are going to be a "B Tier" at best, but oh man does it make me want to bang my head against the wall.

I enjoy the show, I do. It has its moments where I'm just ecstatic or crying because they showed Mr. Miyagi for like less than two minutes, but every time a character takes two steps forward in character development, it feels like they also take three steps back within the next two episodes. More so with the older seasons, but still.

I guess it's just painful to watch the characters relapse into bad habits and you're just sitting there going, "RIP to them but I'm different," and it gets annoying over time.

Honestly, every episode so far has been "relationship drama, gross kissing, breakups, kick-ass karate, family bonding, repeat."

Look, I love karate and think some of the fight scenes are very fun but holy shit do they happen for the stupidest reasons.

I don't know if it's because I'm aroace or because the writers made these girl characters (Sam and Tori) so annoying, dislikeable, and not all that redeemable, but them having all this drama because of two stupid boys (and over one who looks like the human equivalent to white bread?)? Ugh.

Also, that whole arc of the LaRussos taking Robby under their wing and having an almost family dynamic with him was one of my favorite parts of the show because I'm a sucker for surrogate father and son relationships. However, of course, the writers have no sense of found family and had to have Sam get with (who in my mind) is somewhat of a brother was just,, not great.

I know my own thoughts don't dictate the direction of the show but I think more shows should jump on the found family bandwagon because I'll eat that shit up.

I know that they're trying to make Tory redeemable because her mom is sick but what the fuck man,, it doesn't excuse you for attempted murder?? I know Sam is an annoying rich white girl who does get everything she wants, but STILL. You really aren't that different, you're just poor and take what you want with force :/

At this point, I really just watch the show for Daniel and Jonny (even though they both also make me want to bang my head against the wall due to how stubborn they are) because even though I'm aroace, I appreciate dilfs.

It seems like the writers just know how to write when it comes to the adults' conversations all of a sudden and then they go back to being mediocre and less for all the kids.

The one other thing that's become a pet peeve for me for this show is every time the kids are training and they aren't wearing gis. Instead at the very least, they have active or yoga wear but as a former taekwondo student, it's so painful to watch them kick in jeans and with jackets on. Like,, how are you not ripping your clothes right now?

Other than that, I enjoy the show. It has its moments and I like looking at Ralph Macchio, sue me.

[jeeperso]

D&D Quotes Without context

Miscellaneous Edition, for those quotable lines from between sessions

"All I wanna do, is fork a giant woman! A giant woman!" "Jonni, I'm pretty sure she is some type of undead, probably a vampire. Are you sure that is a good idea?" "If I don’t get turned into a blueberry it won’t be my worst date." "Okay, but if you have to defend yourself just don't burn the place down for once." "Oh, Nyx. Sweet summer child. I never make promises we both know I won’t even try to keep." "Jonni, if I wake up to my bed surrounded in flames again I'm short-sheeting your next bed every night for at least a month." "I know you're trying to score here, but Lady Dimitrescu's daughters are literally vampires AND bugs. I can overlook one, but as a Paladin, it is my sacred duty to burn this place to the ground and stir the ashes."

"We don't let Marshall make breakfast anymore." "Those waffles are well-fortified." "I'm going to be charitable and call it hardtack." "We can use these waffles as melee weapons." "Well if we need to deflect siege engines they'll be good to have." "This is still carbon based and digestible by human systems without any poisons." "I can't serve this. It'll cause ... death." "Marshal we've been over this. This Pizza has 10% less of a lethal amount of grease." "Plus they signed the waivers when they bought a ticket. It's fine." "And don't forget to push the Cakeon." "Cakeon being slices of cake wrapped in bacon." "The special sauce is a mixture of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, ranch, horseradish, cheddar cheese, sour cream, and anything unfortunate enough to fall into the mixing vat."

"You do have a copy of the legal code I requested in my letter? As landed gentry you should actually have legal avenues to... I'm sorry did you say Burning child?"

"First I'm going to nail a crossbow bolt through your heart. Then I'm going to mount your balls to walls on opposite sides of this chamber." "I need Three Barrels of Butter" "Are you serious? Those Claws could crush an elephant in full plate!" "You're Right!" *Turns to first person* "We might need more than three barrels of butter."

"So Ioun is the patron of poor college kids. that scans "

"its hardtack or a mug of molten cheese-fried... something in a woven mug of bacon. your choice."

"Welp, all this coke ain't gonna snort itself..."

"Right hand me that dress and the bail money. I'll get Jonni." OOC: Well I mean they allow men in the city. Its just no men live in the city. "I stand by my statement. I'm allowed to look pretty every now and then." OOC: And dragons are the most unprejudiced lovers of anyone after bards.

OOC: Well I mean come on, its Ravenloft: saying a place is of death and madness is like making the observation the day ends in y. "Going out. Getting laid." "Jonni, she’s a werewolf." "Going out, forking a werewolf." OOC: Well Lycanthropy isn't usually sexually transmitted. Its just that Mercedes is a biter. OOC: ...I don't have an appropriate response to that.

"You seriously think I’d turn on my friends for a pile of gold?!?" "sigh I’ll show you my tits. "Hot damn, let’s get these murders done!" "No, Jonni, stay good. Besides, there are plenty of other girls who will do that without asking you to murder us." "Hmmmm… this is the moral quandary of my life…" "I’ll give you five bucks." "Scales tipped!" "Phew, I thought I was going to have to cover her next trip to the topless bar." "No, no, I have the bail money right here."

Nyx: So what’s the inside of Jonni’s head like? Edmund (with thousand yard stare): Imagine every ladies only smut magazine you’ve ever heard of going on forever into infinity while everything is on fire. Food was good though.

"It’s cool. They stole it." "And you know this how?" "Magic." “90% of Ravenloft deaths are mysterious vanishings.” "Why does everything come out covered in glitter and … is that …" "Lube. I’ve got a few theories." "Please don’t share them."

OOC: This is a plan that ends with Strahd having fewer brides, his castle is in flames, and he’s lost his cape.

OOC: Our team consists of a horny pyromancer, a gnome who can fillete you in five seconds, an HP lovecraft protagonist with actual magic backing them up, a literal slab of iron with a face, and a guy with a "I went to the eternal city of Ryleth and all I got was PTSD and this lousy T shirt". Gorbash smashing his shield into their face: "Have! You! Considered! Therapy!" OOC: Good news is you guys will no longer be the most conspicuous guys at the masquerade now. Jonni: Challenge accepted! "Nyx, the bounty on stealing his fake mustache is still on."

"Vanilla is the king of flavors. What does it say about society where vanilla is considered just 'regular'?" "That they have a lot of vanilla." Lash: "Don’t you want wishes?" Jonni: "Do I need wishes to get to see you naked?" Lash: "No?" Jonni: "Fuck ‘em." Vesh: "Oh dammit its my arranged fiance." Pit Fiend: "Milady." Vesh: "An extra wish to whoever punches this douchecanoe in the nards." Jonni: "I wish…for Bigby’s clenched fist of nard punching."

Soth: "Oh, gods, why am I on fire and why is Immigrant Song playing?" Jonni: "Take a guess." Hazlik: "Okay, so its a partridge, stuffed inside a chicken, stuffed inside a duck, stuffed inside a turkey, and the whole thing is fried on a stick. Congratulations, that's the most horrible thing I have ever seen, and I once crossbred an elephant and an owl." "I give him the 'itis, and we run like we stole something." OOC: ...weirdly Curse of Strahd has stats for Strahd zombies but not Strahd Skeletons. Or Strahd's skeletal Steed. Strahd once went to a branding seminar hosted by Bane and it changed his life.

"Are we on a high enough floor that if I throw him through the window he'll be killed by the fall?" "Oh, but when I say stuff like that it’s all 'Jonni, murder is wrong.'" "When they say pick your battles they don't mean to pick all of them. That's too many battles Jonni. Put some back." OOC: He's technically already got a symbiote. OOC: They can get married. Gorbash: "I'm increasing the rent." Venom: "Can I keep the pool table?" Gorbash: "I'm not a monster." Giant Brain: "Jonni… I have summoned you here for… WHY AM I ALREADY ON FIRE! PUT ME OUT! PUT ME OUT!"

"Hello We're the party-crashers. This is Jonni, she's here to steal your women and burn your shit down. That's Nyx, she's going to repatriate certain items from the premise. Marshal over there, is here to studiously ignore our shenanigans. This is the New Guy. He seems pretty chill. I'm Gorbash... and I have been distracting you."

"Will you walk into my parlour?" said a spider to a fly. Jonni: "Hold up. Trying to sex a spider." Nyx: (throws her hands up) And then Jonni wakes up with a spider venom hangover webbed to a wall waiting to be eaten. Jonni: "Eh, I’ve had worse one night stands. I’m not a fucking blueberry." OOC 1: Hey, where does your weed elf grow [her] crops? OOC 2: She probably just grows them in the room she hasn’t paid rent on. OOC 3: Because I was also considering a circle of spores druid tortle. OOC 2: We could be partners! We could turn this into road to el dorado staring Cheech and Chong. OOC: Wait, I just realized five people are hanging out in a pirate bar, and none of us are rogues. We are gonna need someone to get thieves tools. OOC: We have a barbarian with a big stick.

"Are we Foxhound now? Blunderbuss Octopus." OOC1: You want to put the stoner in charge of food. OOC2: Eyup. OOC1: I see no way this can go wrong! OOC3: We need the four basic food groups. Beans, Bacon, Whisky, and Lard. “We pray to Almighty Darkseid! Give us a sign! Thumbs up, for the triumph of the human spirit! Thumbs down to begin the everlasting reign of darkness!” “Where did you find this guy?” “Me? I thought you hired him.” OOC: Yup, nature, arcana, history, investigation and religon at +6. MJ got baked and watched the Discovery Orb a lot. Tordek: "But we have a cleric, Jozan, over there." Strahd: *sigh* Snaps fingers, and suddenly one of Strahd's brides sucks Jozan out the window, cue screaming. "Oh look, you suddenly have an opening, how fortunate." Tordek: "We also have a druid...." Vadania: "SHUT UP, TORDEK!" Edmund: "I think the first order of business may be to discuss your Human Resources strategy..." Strahd: "I have a guy for that too."

"When someone as smart as him talks with himself, it's not crazy...They call it monologing." "I thought it was soliloquy?" "No, soliloquy is when you're talk at someone else when your talking to yourself." "Most people would run from a demon, you run towards it to study it." Professor: "THIS IS ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING! A FROGHEMOTH, AND RIGHT UP CLOSE, IT WILL BE AMAZING TO SEE THIS PERFECT KILLING MACHINE IN ACTION." OOC: Also note the Professor is Lawful Good, Archie is Chaotic Good, so collectively they balance out to Neutral good. OOC: That's good. "The incinerations will continue until morale improves!" “You never incinerate the women!” “Because I’m fucking them!” “I… was not expecting you to be so honest about that…”

"You got what you wanted....but you lost what you had...." "Yes, I'm familiar with how capitalism works."

OOC: Dragons are like, “That’s Krandor the shiney. He only fucks other dragons. Weirdo.”

Gorbash: "D'awww, so tiny... perfect size... FOR PUNTING!" *boots tiny mind-flayer into the horizon*

"Dracula hasn't been spotted in almost recently. Whats he gonna do, destroy all we know and love like he definitely can?" "... my god you people are too stupid to live." "What are you doing in my house?" Gorbash: "...well Edmund has been reading your books, I've been sorting through your armory, Nyx and Irost has been going through your other shinies, Marshal has been cleaving anything monstrous that gets too close, and Jonni has been lighting things on fire to stave off boredom." Gorbash: "Okay Marshal, Jonni. Rock, paper, scissors over who gets [to kill] the bishop."

Jonni: "Did you really think this would make up for what you did?" Nima: "I… killed everyone you grew up with." Jonni: "Yeah, and I’m still not forgiving you for what you did to Eddie." Nima: "I am missing some key context here…" Nima: "Also I committed identity theft on you by having my new undead army tell everyone you are running the show." Jonni: "Oh, no. You’ve fooled the boar tribe. Who still haven’t figured out shitting in a hole." Nima: "Yeah I noticed that. I ruined two pairs of shoes attacking their camps."

[avungerthatgotaway]

Baby it's the Sign of the Times

Eyoo guyzz! This is a new oneshot, I hope you like this❄ I'm currently rewriting my Hawkeye fic, so I'm not gonna post that one for a little. This one is a bit longer than my previous ones.

I totally recommend you to listen to this song while reading, even if you're not a fan of Harry's. It will really help the mood.

I don't own anything, even tho I'd like to have a few... choice words with Russo brothers about endgame...👍🏼🤔

Warnings: none

Summary: events when Peggy dies, mainly before Steve goes to London, and you comfort him. (I know it's stupid summary, but I don't want to spoil it, sorry)

Genre: angst

I don't mention civil war at all. No other avengers are at Peggy's funeral. There are no romantical pairings, and Sharon is not mentioned cuz she doesn't fit in the storylineeee.

----------------------------

She's gone.

In her sleep.

This words crushed Steve inside. He knew this was coming, but he'd never be ready for it, no matter what.

When he came from ice, he met her again. He knew they could never be together. No matter his actual age, Steve still had a full life in front of him. Unfortunately, same couldn't be told for Peggy.

Oh Peggy... She was always his ray of sunshine. Even through darkest of days. It is a cliché, but she was.

Was.

She is gone now.

Why did she have to go? Why didn't he get to spend a life with her? Steve's biggest wish was, and always will be, to spend a happy life with her. He didn't want any of this famous captain shit. He wanted a house in a village and 2 kids with Peggy. And a little dog. Or they'd be of service, and fight next to each other. Nevermind, Steve wanted a life with Peggy. For them to watch each other go grey. Maybe he could've been there for her as a husband now, through her sickness. Or maybe he'd be the one to go first. But still, that'd be a life...

One tear slipped down his rosy cheek, the other one following. Soon he had tearstains on his cheeks, but he didn't care. It was a silent cry. Those carry the most pain.

"Eyo, capsicle! You good there?" Tony snapped him outta his thoughts. Steve forgot the whole team was in the room. Fortunately, he was turned, so they were facing his back. He just couldn't talk to anyone right now.

"Yea yea, I'm good. I gotta go." he quickly got up and exited the room. He climbed up the stairs 2 more floors, but his toughts started haunting him again.

He's going on a plane tomorrow morning to say goodbye for the last time. Oh God, even thinking of a last time kills Steve inside. It's pretty late, but he didn't know what to do until morning. Sleeping wasn't an option, he knew that much. He gave in to overthinking again.

Of Peggy. Of her life. Of what could've happened if he didn't freeze...

"Just stop your crying, it's a sign of the times..."

"...welcome to the final show..."

"...I hope you're wearing your best clothes..."

Steve heard a silent piano in the background, and he heard an angelic voice. He still had tearstained cheeks, but he needed to hear what the voice had to say.

"...you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky..."

He was still clutching his cellphone in his hand, while following the voice. He came in front of Y/N's room. Y/N was a 16 year old avenger. She was very mature and wise for her age.

Her door was opened, and he just leaned against the doorframe, listening to her beautiful voice.

"...if we never learn, we been here before..."

"... why are we always stuck and running from the bullets..."

"...they told me that the end is near..."

Steve was crying a river at this point, and he didn't care. First shock was wearing out, and silent cries became little sobs. Yet, not loud enough for Y/N to hear.

"...just stop your crying, baby it'll be alright..."

"...we got to get away..."

She played final chords on piano, and then she turned around.

2nd person POV

You were singing "Sign of the times" and playing your piano. You loved this song. It was helping you relax, the melody was perfect. During the few last, silent piano chords, you tought you heard something. You softly finished and turned around. It was Steve.

But not the Steve you knew. This one had red puffy eyes, swollen from crying. He was sobbing quietly, trying to stop the sobs, but he couldn't.

You slowly came up to him, like to a wounded animal. He was just so hurt, you could see it in his eyes. You felt bad for him, but you wanted to know what happened. Who could hurt Stevie so badly.

"What happened, Big Guy?" you asked him. Steve just kept on sobbing even harder.

You moved him a little, so he was in your room, and you closed the door. You lead him to your bed, and sit on it, next to him. He was clutching his phone tightly in his hand, so you lifted his hand and gently tried to take it. He wouldn't let it go. You don't wanna pressure him, but whatever is on that phone is causing him this much distress.

"Stevie, cmon big babe" you cooed and rubbed the back of his hand with your thumbs. It may sound strange so someone, but Stevie really was like a big baby, so fluffy and vunerable inside.

He gave in and the phone just slipped from his hand in yours. You read the text and everyting was clear right away. You knew he went to visit Peggy in hospital, you didn't know she was this bad. I mean, Steve and you were close, but still that's too personal. You felt sooo sorry for him. He didn't deserve it. Not now. Not ever.

"Ohh, I'm so sorry Stevie..."

You immidiately hugged him close to you. He burried his head in your shoulder and neck, crying his eyes out, but at the same time trying not to cry. At least not to sob.

"Stevie, bear, it's okay to cry. Just let it all out."

That was all he needed. He started crying and sobbing uncontrollably, and your shirt was soaked in his tears. You didn't mind it tho, if it'll help him to feel better afterwards, he can cry as much as he needs.

After some time he lifted his head and looked into your eyes with his puffy baby blues.

"I'm sorry, Flower, I-I ju-ust can't believe s-s-she's go-one-e" he was still crying. You could see how much Peggy meant to him. You hugged him again, tugging at his hair softly to comfort him.

"Hey, hey no need to apologise Stevie. You cry yourself out, it'll help you. I'm here for you, Bear."

"T-tha-ank you. A-and and please... ca-can you-u not tell a-anyone about he-er ye-et..."

"Shhhh, Bear, I won't tell anyone about her. You wait until you're ready." you whispered.

You understood him. Not everyone in the team knew Peggy existed. And now telling them that she died, and what happened with them would be too much for Steve.

"T-thanks"

"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay." you whispered. You whispered to soothe him, you didn't know what to do when someone's loved one dies. But you wanted to be there for Steve so badly. Little did you know that what you did was just perfect for Steve.

-

Steve at first felt ashamed, because he cried in front of Y/N. But she talked just enough, whispering soothingly. He didn't have streinght to act like a big guy anymore. He craved comfort so badly, and he got it from Y/N. It felt nice.

-

Back to 2nd person POV

Something was bothering you. Steve didn't want anyone to know about Peggy's death which meant he was probably going to funeral alone. You didn't want that for him. At least he needed someone to be with afterwards. You knew Steve and how sensitive he was. You didn't want to think of things going through his head while he's alone after funeral. But if it was in London, as you tought it was, you had a plan.

"Stevie?" you said quietly playing with his hair a little.

"Mhm?" he asked, face still in your shoulder.

"When is Peggy's funeral? Is anyone going with you?" you asked. He lifted his head a little.

"T-tomorrow. L-london. And no. It's too much-h t-trouble for anyone. And I know it is Y/N, do-don't try to o--object" he smiled through his tears. You smiled back at him, your own eyes glistening with tears a little, but you didn't want him to notice.

He burried his head in your shoulder and neck again, like it was his safeplace, and he just cried. You couldn't imagine where those tears come from.

You softly stroked his short blonde locks, and started singing.

"Just stop your crying, it's the sign of the times...

...welcome to the final show

...I hope you're wearing your best clothes..."

Half into the song, you felt more weight on your shoulder. You looked down, and realised Steve fell asleep. You pressed one kiss to his temple, and moved him, so he was lying in your bed.

"Good night, Stevie Bear." you whispered.

-

When you exited your room quietly, you immediately called your best friend, Jon.

It was 2am, but you and Jon were just the best friends, you could call him whenever, and other way around.

Him and his family were going to London, and he invited you to go with them. You declined the offer, because you had to study so. so. much. But this was way more important.

"Heey, Jonny. Is that London offer still on?

Great. When are you going?

Ohhh, in 2 hours?

Yea, I'll be there. Thanks

And by the way, I'll have somewhere to go to tomorrow, around 4pm, I hope you guys don't mind.

Ohh cool. Thank you bruhhhh. Byee"

Great news. They still had a plain ticked to spare, and they'll pick you up soon.

You quickly packed your stuff, careful not to wake up Stevie. Poor baby. With everything he's been through, and now his Peggy dies...

You tell JARVIS to tell Tony you're in your friends house, and to wake up Steve 'round 6am. His flight was in 7. You knew this, and which Church it was in at what time because you did a little research. Aka, asked JARVIS for help. AI already heard everything, so it wasn't news.

You left the tower and went to meet up with Jon and his family.

-

Steve woke up by alarm ringing at 6am. He immediately realised he's not in his room. He was in Y/N's. And then he remembered how you comforted him. He was so thankful for you. Even though, you weren't here, and it was confusing. You probably went to sleep on the couch, or in some other room, and Steve felt bad about it. He quickly got ready, and tried to find you, so he could get you back to your bed. Fortunately JARVIS easened his search.

"Mr. Rogers, ms. L/N went on a trip with her friend a few hours ago."

"Oh. Thanks JARVIS." Steve said, and left the building. You didn't mention any trips, but then again, you two didn't talk anything except Peggy tonight.

-

(timeskip to Peggy's funeral, cuz no one wants to listen about the trip now)

-

3rd person POV

It's so devastating to attend a funeral on your own.

Even more so if it's a funeral of your lost loved one.

Maybe Steve should've brought someone with him. For comfort. At least to feel the familiar presence. He carried Peggy's coffin, and it was enough to make him feel empty and sad. It was nearing to the end of funeral, and Steve didn't want to be alone. He wanted comfort. Like when Y/N comforted him last night.

After the ceremony ended, he stayed behind a little. He craved someone's presence. Anyone familiar. And then he felt a smal hand on his shoulder. He turned around, and it was Y/N. At first, he tought he was hallucinating. But her petite hand on his shoulder felt so real. He felt so grateful for this small human being at the moment, he just wanted to thank God over and over for having her with him.

"Y/N, Flower, what are you doing here?" he asked, still in shock.

"Hey Bear. I figured out you could use some company after the funeral. But if you wanna be alone, I understand, I'll go."

"No no, I mean, if you can stay, it would mean a world to me. You really know me better than I know myself sometimes Y/N. Thank you so much, Flower." he said, and immediately came for a hug. You hugged back, of course.

"I'll stay for as long as you want, Bear. I'm here for you, as long as you want me to stay."

"I want you to stay forever kiddo" he mumbed in your hair.

"Forever it is."

----------------------------

@afictionaladventure16 @rae-is-typing @elles-writing @avengersarchive @avengersuniverse

[jaysworlds]

fuck you jonny sims michael deserved better

Gertrude is planning something. More specifically, Gertrude is planning something which she has neglected to inform Gerry about.

She’s always planning something, but she always tells Gerry about it, even if only to give him strict instructions to keep his nose out of her business.

This time, though, she hasn’t told him a thing. In fact, she’s lied to him, and told him that she isn’t planning anything at all, and are you sure you didn’t open that last Leitner?

(He hadn’t, of course. He’s not stupid).

In any case, Gertrude is treating him like he is, and whatever she’s planning, she’s keeping it from him on purpose.

His first thought is that it somehow involves him, but she should know by now that he would help her willingly, even if there was a chance that it would get him killed. He’s never exactly had much of a self-preservation instinct.

He can’t think of anything else that would lead to her lying to him, though. He might not always agree with her methods, but he would never go out of his way to sabotage her.

Unless someone he cared about was going to get hurt.

Unless…

Michael.

Shit.

Gerry doesn’t want to believe it, of course, but he can’t think of anything else that would make Gertrude straight up lie to him.

He needs to know exactly what it is she’s planning. He needs to stop her.

She can’t hurt Michael. He’s so … so good. Certainly the only person who’s ever bothered to cared about Gerry, and Gerry may or may not be harbouring a little crush on him.

He’s difficult not to crush on, really.

God. He won’t let Gertrude sacrifice him, no matter what. Surely there’s someone else, surely whatever she’s planning could use Gerry instead, if she has to sacrifice someone.

It’s almost an accident that he finds out what she’s planning, or part of it. The Spiral is planning a ritual, The Great Twisting, and once Gerry knows that it’s not difficult to guess that Gertrude intends to stop it.

Stopping rituals is important, of course. But not so important that Gerry will just let her go about her business, uninterrupted. There has to be another way.

Any further information proves very, very difficult to get hold of. He finds out from Michael that she’s booked two tickets on a boat, and that she plans to leave in two weeks, but what the boat is called and where it’s headed remains a mystery.

The information is there, of course. He can feel it, sitting in the back of his mind. He could just Know, if he really wanted to. If he was really desperate.

But he’s not. Not yet. He can get the information he needs through normal means, without giving himself over to the Beholding.

Except he can’t. He goes through Gertrude’s desk, her handbag, even her apartment, but there’s nothing to indicate where she’s going.

It scares him, honestly. He tells himself he’s not scared, that everything’s going to be fine, but he’s running out of time and the information he needs doesn’t seem to exist anywhere.

Michael doesn’t know either. He just knows that Gertrude’s asked him to go on a work trip with her, and the worst part is that he seems so excited, so pleased that Gertrude is trusting him with this, and Gerry doesn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

Not yet, anyway. He doesn’t have proof, and he doesn’t want Michael to be scared.

It’s almost too late when he finally gives in, reaching for the information that he knows is there, giving a little more of himself to the Beholding. He wouldn’t, not if he had the choice, but it’s to save Michael, and so it will always be worth it.

It has to be.

The first thing he Knows is that they’ve already left. He’s too late to stop them, to try and reason with either of them, even if he leaves right now.

More importantly, though, he knows where they’re going and how they’re getting there, and that’s enough. The ship is the Tundra, owned by one Peter Lukas, and Gerry knows well enough that he won’t make it onto that ship without Lukas finding out, even if he made it before the ship departed, but in the few minutes after he calms down he realises that he still has time.

He has enough money to book a flight, and it will take the ship a few weeks to get to Russia, to its final destination, and he can easily make it there before they can.

Getting to Sannikov land will be a little harder, given that the island doesn’t technically exist, but he’s confident he can make it. He has to.

He leaves immediately, although he knows he’ll have to spend a couple of weeks in Russia, waiting for the island to actually appear. He Knows when it’s going to appear, which is a useful piece of knowledge, but it worries him, just a little. He hadn’t actively tried to Know that, it had just … appeared.

Still, he has bigger problems.

The weeks in Russia are very unpleasant. He wouldn’t go so far as to say they’re the worst of his life, but they’re certainly up there. The worst part is probably the worry, the fear that he’s going to be too late.

The second worst part is probably the Knowing.

It’s just … happening, now. Not often, only once or twice, but that’s far more than he wants it to be happening (namely, not at all).

Perhaps he’s opened a gate that he never should have touched, but if he hadn’t opened it then he wouldn’t be here. He wouldn’t be able to save Michael.

Maybe it will turn out for the best, in the end.

But probably not. He’s not that lucky.

He Knows as soon as Sannikov land appears above the waves, and he starts trying to charter a boat to take him there. It’s hard, given that the locals don’t believe it’s a real island at all (and they’re right, to an extent), and it’s hours before he can find someone willing to take a crazy Englishman out onto the sea in search of an island that isn’t there.

He doesn’t speak much on the journey out. He’s trying very hard not to Know things, though it’s so difficult when there are so many things he wants to know. How long the journey is, for starters. If he’s going to make it in time.

The Tundra is already there when he arrives, and he barely has time to pay the poor confused fisherman who brought him out here before he’s running across the snow in his too-heavy boots, praying he’s not too late.

He’s too late. When he gets there there’s no sign of Michael, just Gertrude standing silently by an out-of-place yellow door.

Gerry feels sick.

“Where is he?” he snarls, as though he doesn’t know.

Gertrude doesn’t even seem surprised to see him. “You’re a little too late,” she says, as though they’re talking about the weather. “I’m sorry, Gerard. Really.”

No. He’s not too late, not as long as the door is still here. Michael is in there somewhere, and Gerry won’t just leave him to die alone.

He can at least try.

“Fuck you,” he says, and pulls the door open. The corridors beyond are infinite, bending in impossible ways, and Gerry knows he won’t be able to Know anything once he’s in there, even if he wanted to.

“Gerard,” Gertrude says, sharply. “Wait.”

“Fuck you,” he says again, and walks through the door before he can overthink it.

It slams shut behind him, cutting off whatever Gertrude would have said and leaving him alone in the passageways.

He starts feeling sick almost immediately, but he won’t let that stop him. He starts walking into the corridors, picking directions at random. He doesn’t know where he’s going, just that he needs to find Michael.

Gertrude had said a little too late. Michael can’t have been in here too long. He can’t have gone far.

“Michael!” Gerry calls, and the endless twisting corridors eat his words, spitting them back at him as a distorted echo.

“Oh, fuck you,” he snaps, and kicks a wall. “Give him back, you bastard.”

The Spiral doesn’t seem to like that. The passages constrict, an entrance Gerry had been sure he could see disappearing.

“Alright,” he says. Apparently pissing off the entity he’s walking through is a bad idea. “I’m sorry, Jesus. But you’re not having him.”

That doesn’t seem to pacify it, but it doesn’t constrict any further, so he just keeps walking into the unknown, the unknowable.

He doesn’t know how long he walks for. Time doesn’t exactly exist in here, and nor does space, but still, he’s sure he’s making ground.

He’s probably moving faster than Michael. He’ll be scared, lost, barely knowing what he’s got himself into, and Gerry at least has the element of knowledge on his side, not to mention pure determination.

He wonders vaguely what Gertrude had told Michael before she sent him in here. Some pretty lie, perhaps, about how he was going to save the world. Maybe she told him that she’d be waiting for him when he got out.

Maybe she even told him the truth. Told him that she was sending him in here to die, but that his sacrifice was necessary.

Or maybe she didn’t tell him anything at all. Just shoved him through the door and slammed it shut behind him, trapping him in here forever.

No, not forever. Not if Gerry has anything to say about it.

The Spiral doesn’t like his presence, he can tell. He isn’t sure why, if it’s because he’s too connected to the Beholding, or if it’s just cross he told it to fuck off. Maybe it doesn’t have a reason at all, but whatever it is, he’s not welcome here.

More than once he feels like giving up, like curling up in a corner and letting madness overcome him, but he thinks of poor, innocent Michael, Michael who had thrown himself into the Lonely to rescue Gerry without a second thought, without expecting anything back, and he can’t give up.

Michael needs him. And honestly, he needs Michael.

The Beholding presses at the back of his mind, and he can guess that he could use it to get out of here, if he needed to. The Spiral does not like to be perceived, and perhaps if Gerry tried his best to Know it it would just … spit him out.

But he can’t risk it, can’t risk leaving Michael in here alone, and more than that, he doesn’t want to use the Beholding’s powers. He wants to get out of here on his own terms, like he’s lived his life up until now.

Maybe it’s just pure stubbornness, but stubbornness is all he has right now.

He calls out for Michael over and over and over again, until his voice is hoarse with something akin to pain, and every time his own words are just thrown back at him by the endless corridors, and there’s no reply.

There are other people in here, he thinks, though he only sees … impressions of them, reflections in the mirrors. He would help them if he could, but they’re too far gone to save, and he doesn’t have the energy, anyway.

The Spiral is messing with his mind, he can feel it. He keeps slipping up, losing track of what he’s doing here, and he cannot afford to forget, to lose himself here.

How must Michael, already so much closer to the Spiral, be feeling?

Not good. Gerry needs to find him as soon as he can.

He isn’t sure what leads him to Michael, in the end. It’s a … feeling, almost like a gentle tugging on one of his fingers, and he follows it, curious, though some part of him suspects it’s a bad idea.

Still, it’s not like he has anything better.

He begins to be able to see it, almost, after he’s been walking for some time, like a gossamer thread floating on the breeze. It’s … odd. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

It reminds him vaguely of the story of Ariadne and her string. He hopes to God that this one won’t lead him to a monster.

It’s very quickly pushed to the back of his mind when he finally, finally finds Michael, curled up on the ground in a parka which may have once been blue, and was now a horrible, eye burning greenish colour.

The colour of the parka doesn’t matter for more than a moment, and Gerry forgets about the string as he runs over to put his hand on Michael’s shoulder, to turn him over and try to find out if he’s okay, if he’s alive.

His eyes are closed, but he’s still breathing under the heavy parka, and Gerry pulls it off his shoulders without a second thought. It’s not exactly cold here, after all. It’s not exactly anything.

“Hey,” he breathes, shaking Michael’s shoulder. “Hey, wake up.”

And he does, blearily. His eyes, which had been so blue last time Gerry had seen him, are now mismatched, one a pale blue and the other sickly yellow.

It doesn’t matter. If he gets out of here with nothing more than mismatched eyes he will have been very, very lucky.

“Gerry?” Michael asks, trying his best to sit up. “What … are you really here?”

“Yeah,” Gerry says, helping him into a more upright position and checking his pulse. It’s a little faster than usual, but not too irregular. “I’m here. I’m so sorry I didn’t get here faster.”

Michael just stares at him for a moment. “Did Mrs. Robinson send you to fetch me?”

Something in Gerry’s gut twists. “No,” he says shortly. “She had no intention of you making it out of here alive.”

Michael frowns. “That … she wouldn’t do that.”

Gerry doesn’t have the energy to argue with him right now, nor to explain exactly what Gertrude did. “Let’s just get out of here,” he says, instead, and stands up, scooping Michael up in his arms.

Michael’s several inches taller than him, but he’s built like a beanpole and weighs almost nothing, and Gerry has no trouble carrying him.

Usually he would protest to that, insist that he can walk perfectly fine on his own, but for now he just settles against Gerry’s chest, closing his eyes again. “I’m glad you came,” he says, quietly. “I was a little scared, you know. Don’t tell Mrs. Robinson, though.”

Gerry just pushes down the anger that rises in his chest. No point being angry now. “I won’t,” he says, keeping his voice level. “I wouldn’t leave you here, don’t worry.”

“I know,” Michael says, and he sounds so sure of himself.

It’s a few minutes before the euphoria of finding Michael wears off and Gerry realises that they still need to get out of here. Maybe they’re less likely to succumb to madness if they’re together, but it will still happen eventually.

For a while he’s optimistic that maybe he’ll just stumble upon the exit, or that the odd string will return to lead him to a door, but as Michael’s mumblings slowly become less and less coherent he starts to realise that he’s going to have to force his way out.

Fine. Let the Beholding have him; at least it means Michael will be okay.

He isn’t quite sure where to start, but he pulls at the well of power he can feel in the back of his mind and just. Looks.

For a moment nothing changes, and he wonders if maybe he is going mad, trying to win a staring contest with the physical incarnation of madness.

And then the corridors start thrashing, twisting wildly and throwing the two of them back and forth, slamming them into walls and ceilings and floors and mirrors that all blur together. Gerry just keeps his eyes open and tries his best to shield Michael with his body, protecting him from the worst of it.

He doesn’t know how long it goes on, but he can feel the pressure building as the corridors thrash more and more wildly, and then something snaps, and the next wall he slams into gives way, flinging him out of the corridors with Michael still held tight in his arms.

He has no idea where they are. They’re just laying in a warm, muddy field still tanged up in each other, but right now location doesn’t matter.

Except. He does know. South of France, not far from Toulouse. He didn’t even have to try.

Oh well. Problem for later. Right now he just feels very bruised, and more than anything he wants to make sure that Michael is okay.

He’s awake, at least, trying his best to sit up. His eyes are still different colours and his hair seems … tangled, to say the least, but other than that he seems fine.

At least on the outside.

“Gerry?” he says again, questioning. “You saved me.”

Something akin to pride bubbles up in Gerry’s chest, though it doesn’t completely chase out the anger there. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

Michael smiles brightly and wraps his arms around Gerry’s neck. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Gerry mumbles, feeling almost embarrassed. “You would’ve done the same for me.”

“Still,” Michael says, and presses a soft kiss to Gerry’s cheek. “Thank you.”

Gerry just doesn’t know what to say to that. His mind has blue-screened, which seems very ironic considering he just escaped losing his mind.

Michael, of course, takes it as a rejection. “Oh,” he starts, pulling away a little. “I just … I thought … I’m sorry, I overstepped.”

“No,” Gerry says quickly, as soon as his brain is back online. “No, you didn’t. I don’t mind. Really.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

Michael smiles, soft and shy, and this time when he leans in Gerry meets him in the middle, and then they’re kissing.

There are still a hundred things wrong. Gerry needs to have a serious conversation with Michael about trusting Gertrude, and they need to make sure they’re both still sane, although he feels sane. There’s also the slight issue of the fact that he may or may not be on his way to becoming a Beholding avatar.

Still, none of that seems important right now. They’re alive, the sun is shining, and they’re together.

That’s what matters.

[bag-chips]

(Apologies for the length, messy handwriting poor quality uwu)

I binged all the Mechanisms albums in one day and became utterly obsessed with the idea of them being Jon’s uni band. On top of this I got thinking about the theatre lines in MAG 172. Ergo, here’s a master post of various Mechanism!Jon and Theatre!Jon scenarios! (it’s mainly Jonmartin fluff I’m not going to lie to you). It took four days. Last night I stayed up till nearly four trying to get it done cos I hate myself ;)

1) My design for Mechanism Jon. He’s absolutely one of those guys who grow excessive facial hair to look older and more mature. And, oh look! Some JonGeorgie stuff. Rather than being a member of the band, I’d like to think she acts as the behind the scenes manager, helping out with bookings lighting and costumes. It will become apparent that Jon is like my fave and I’m soft for this stupid little man.

2) Depressed S3 Jon with the Admiral. Jon prefers to not talk about the band, especially since most of the Archival staff make fun of him for it anyway. However, he absolutely ends up quoting Mech songs when he’s on his own, especially when emotionally compromised. The aftermath of this little sketch would be Jon spitting out the whisky and nearly throwing up because he hates the taste and can only really stand very weak alcoholic drinks (hey hi hello I’m projecting).

Stupid sketch of him taking part in a Shakespeare production. Jon was and still is a theatre kid, taking part in any play or musical he could during his uni years. He’s a dramatic little bitch but damn does he have a fantastic stage pressence. Georgie proudly supports him from behind the curtain.

3) Martin finds out about the Mechanisms through Tim, who uses the material to expertly tease Jon. Martin finds pictures. Martin’s crush is cemented he is homosexual he is transfixed by the images. This leads to him listening to the albums, which outside of them being by his crush he genuially does love them. He often finds himself listening to them whilst working around the Archives, but takes great efforts to hide his love of the Mechs from a curious Jon.

4) Everyone at the Archives knows about the band. Tim and Melanie are the lead culprits in mocking him about it, especially in the tense work environment of S3. (For context Mechanism shows had the tradition of Jonny De’Ville claiming he was the captain, with Gunpowder Tim and the audience then proclaiming that no he’s the first mate Jonny stop Jonny no. Go listen to the Death of the Mechanisms you’ll see).

5) Post-MAG172 argument. Who will win? The poetry nerd or the theatre kid?

6) (Read downwards until the next row the layouts weird cos I sketched it whilst sleep deprived at 2am ;) ). Jonmartin fluff!

TMA is a tragedy. Listening to the Mechanism albums has made that very clear. So the next couple of images would be set in a happy ending AU fuck u they’re going to get married let me dream.

7) (Apologies for the weird writing again sleep deprived). Jon wants to fulfill his side of the bargain and take Martin to the theatre. After many trips to Georgie’s and a lot of planning, Jon decides to take them on a date to see Cats at the West End, since it turns out Martin knows the original poems. Thing is, this is their first proper date. And it so happens to conicide with their first anniversary. And Jon wants to spoil Martin with an engagement present as an apology (Jon ruined the proposal with his eye powers). Jon wants to go big. And it just so happens that Elias left a lot of money. He decides to go ham and get them a private box. He gets Georgie to book it for them since he wants it to be a surprise and despite his Eldritch mind google he can’t figure out how to work a laptop.

Martin is told he’s going to the theatre. However it takes until they’re collecting the tickets at the front desk for Jon to reveal the seats and thus allude to the expenses. Martin has always worried about money given his upbringing, and panics, nearly having a full blown argument with Jon in front of the ticket man. Jon really should have listened to Georgie’s warnings.

8) (The Wikipedia text box thing was inspired by a brilliant TMA comic, once I find it again I’ll link it!) Jon is very much excited for the perfomance, and infodumps about it. Martin is still annoyed about the expense of the date but starts to relax and mellow out once he gets a glass of wine in his hand and a quiet moment to listen to his fiancée talk passionately about something.

9) The gays get ice cream and discuss who’s the prettiest actor in the interval. Martin is very much wired to how Jon works now, and uses the conversation to calm him down a bit (I think Jon was very much concerned that Martin might leave him over this bless that man).

10) The couple head home after a few quiet drinks at the bar. Jon is exchausted - mentally strained by the worry of perfecting the date, his emotional investment into the show and the two glasses of wine he had. Martin forgives him for the excessive nature of the trip, but would be lying is he said he didn’t enioy the show (even if it was mainly experiencing it through Jon’s expressive face, investment and him mouthing the lyrics quietly to himself). He’s going to ask if they can maybe listen to a different musical album whilst Jon recovers from his inevitable hangover tomorrow, but first he needs to gently carry his pissed and sleepy partner up to bed.

I wanted to draw soft things I’m sorry I love this podcast with all my heart have a nice day

[tsuchann]

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫.

────── ♡

navigation | send a request!

────── ♡

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗅𝖾𝗒 𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲; 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗋. 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞; 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿

𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬; 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍y

────── ♡

you never had the best track record in guys. maybe it was you, who seemed to attract assholes. you remembered them all. jonny who cheated on you twice, ethan who tried sleeping with your mom, and even logan who broke up with you for a teacher and william who went to jail for selling drugs.

but you always thought that your boyfriend now would be the one. you were wrong.

you stare at the clock on the opposite wall, sighing. the silence is deafening. it’s around 8, now.

your boyfriend is still not here.

maybe if the circumstances were different you would be able to forgive him, but you’ve been neglected too long. besides, you’re sure he’s fucking his ex somewhere in a dirty alleyway.

you pick up your phone, texting a quick “we’re over,” ready to call over the waitress to ask for the check. however much a milkshake costs. you don’t think your boyfriend deserved the time of day for even a call. you don’t owe him any explanation he should know what he did.

blinking back tears, you savor the last few sips of your [flavor] milkshake. people are starting to look at you with those apologetic looks like they know and you start to feel worse and worse about the whole situation.

stupid, stupid y/n. giving him another chance when you knew he would just fuck you over again.

the waitress is close now, she too looks at you in pity, but she doesn’t get a chance to approach you before the chair in front of you is screeching across the floor and a boy you have never seen before plops down loudly.

his hair is curly, tie hurriedly pulled together, and cheeks red from rushing. he shoves his hand in yours, the other going to run across his noodle like brown hair, explains loudly, “sorry i’m so late, babe! traffic is crazy, today!” quietly, he adds, “i’m stanley, just go with it. whoever didn’t show up is a dick.”

the other customers seem to almost sigh in relief.

you feel blush rushing up your neck to your cheeks, maybe because the boy is so cute, or because your hand in his feels so right.

even the waitress seems relieved for you when she takes your orders.

stanley is smiling at you after his order arrives, “hey, what’s your name?” he asks almost quietly and follows it with a chuckle, “i just realized i forgot to ask.”

“i’m y/n...” you’re smiling, too. you knew then that stanley had done the kindest, sweetest thing from the poor goodness of his heart and not from pity. god, he was perfect- you mentally scolded yourself almost melancholic. you weren’t sure if you’d ever see him again. “and you’re really fucking cute-“

coughing, you turned away, eyes wide. you definitely didn’t mean to say that.

but, stanley only laughs. he’s so cute when he laughs, you think. you feel the butterflies start to reach your stomach when he looks back at you with his cheeks red.

“you’re not too bad yourself, y/n.” you love the way he says your name. his eyes are sincere as he stares at you, you almost sigh.

this was too good to be true and you knew it.

────── ♡

stanley held your hand the whole way to your car, squeezing it occasionally. you hope he didn’t notice how clammy they were compared to his.

leaning against your car, you looked up at stanley with hesitation. “hey... um,” you cleared your throat awkwardly, “i had a lot of fun with you.” you managed to get out.

stanley chuckles, “i had a lot of fun with you, too...”

the silence is deafening. you both want to say something, but you’re both too scared to say it.

finally, you break. “we should... we should do it again sometimes.”

stanley looks relieved, “i was just thinking the same thing.”

then he’s looking at you with that look you only see in movies and you can’t blink much less look away before he’s stepping closer. taking a leap of faith, you close the gap between you.

it’s short and sweet, a little over a peck. but it’s feels more right than any kiss you’ve ever shared with your ass of an ex boyfriend.

there’s something about stanley, though, a certain adventure and excitement behind his calm, charming persona. you kind of like it.

you never had the best track record in guys, but stanley uris would end that.

────── ♡

i’m going to be honest, i wrote most of this at 3AM and the ending is pretty rushed. despite that, i hope you enjoyed it. :)

[lemondoddle]

actually you know what my biggest complaint about tma is? the sheer amount of characters who are Actually also other characters its a tagging NIGHTMARE for someone like me who has to tag every single little thing. we start out with sasha who got replaced by Not!sasha and ok thats simple enough they each get their own tag, cool. Then Michael comes into play and not only is he the Distortion which is its own being but hes also linked to Michael Shelley but neither Michael Shelley nor the Distortion are Michael (not even mentioning the fact of having this blog since 2013 there are So Many Other Michaels lurking around not even counting crew and salesa). so thats...much more confusing but par for the course its the spiral so, just keep pre-distortion michael as michael shelley and fuckhands michael as the distortion, that should be good- except in the middle of making that decision guess what michael is helen now and the distortion is now michael and helen AND michael and helen are michael shelley and helen richardson. great. lets just be confusing for a bit and tag the full names whether its distorted or not but now ill probably just change it to “[first name] distortion” and keep pre-distort and post-distort separate because im weird. im a weirdo. you ever see me without this stupid tagging system? that’s weird. and then. OHHH THEN. we have jonahlias magbouchard. who started out as elias, great, wonderful, double bossman is elias bouchard gotcha. except that he’s Not. he’s jonah magnus whos In elias bouchard. so Now we have pre-158 knowledge elias bouchard whos just a fucked up evil bureaucrat. we also had jonah magnus the weird institute founder with his victorian harem. NOW we have jonah posing as elias and original elias the poor soul that got sucked into this mess. every time i talk about elias i am talking about like 4 different people who are also the same person somehow and i probably need to make another tag. jonny why.

[arce-elliot]

Magnus Archives - First Impressions (151-175)

We’re almost there, gang. Out of the Lonely and into the Eyepocalypse we go! Blah blah I had 75% of the series spoiled and am jotting down my thoughts, you know the drill.

EP 151 (Big Picture): - OH SIMON??? - okay okay Simon's kinda funny, you go you funky little sky grandpa - Martin Tell Her The TRUTH EP 152 (A Gravedigger's Envy): - oooh another ancient one - hey that's terrifying wtf - can someone please comfort jonny boy good lord EP 153 (Love Bombing): - Idk why the cult ones freak me out, maybe because cults are real? - oh god what's gonna happen to that dog - I literally just made my dinner with white wine vinegar that's a little old are you sHITTING ME - GIRL GET OUT OF THERE WHILE YOU HAVE A CHANCE YOU KNOW SOMETHING'S OFF - AYYY THE HUNTIN' GANG - tbh it was weird that they helped him even though they knew he wasn't human actually - DAISY!!!!! - Jon can you chill w/ the sass if you're not gonna help - Okay I'm gay but Daisy Growl Hot - Two dying monsters trying to reconcile their humanity, this is sad I hate it here EP 154 (Bloody Mary): - oh god it's This Episode I've been dreading it poor Eric - g o d Gertrude sounds so upset - I would die for Eric - "Eric I'm gonna count to ten and you're gonna tELL ME HOW YOU QUIT" - I'm already crying good god - "he needed me" o w - MARTIN GOT TO SAY FUCK!!!!! - O U C H - i am so upset FUCK this podcast - the catalogue of the dead is just the Delano-Keay family album EP 155 (Cost of Living): - CALL HER OUT JON - Tova, to this doctor's heart: it's free real estate - A FUCKING C H I L D?????? - ah yes, some more DIY surgery, who needs doctors when you have knives? EP 156 (Reflection): - ayyyy adelard how are ya - oh fun flesh time - oh? extinction? - also that was gross what the fuck - M A R T I N EP 157 (Rotten Core): - go save Martin before I cry - ADELARD!!! - ah no, I'm gonna miss this dude he was kinda cool - this hits different in corona times - okay this is actually pretty gross wtf - Martin's lonely because he chose to be, Jon is lonely because everyone hates him, poetic cinema EP 158 (Panopticon): - Ah Shit Here We Fucking Go - OH WHAT THE FUCK NOT!SASHA???? - AYYYYY THERE'S JONAH MAGNUS WELCOME HOME RAT BASTARD - uh oh bye bye Gertrude Time - mom and dad are fighting to be Martin's favorite parent lmao - no not the promise :C - Martin is the brain cell, he really just played both these men like kazoos - gdi Peter give me my boy back EP 159 (The Last): - hi I am Sad - Marto blease just go with the tired eyeball man - "i see you" MY B O Y S EP 160 (The Eye Opens) - oh lord here we go - at least we get some Jonmartin conversation - Monologue Time! - Jon: can I just say, from the bottom of my heart...my bad EP 161 (Dwelling): - welcome to the apocalypse bitches - FINALLY i've been waiting for these tapes for my entire life - TIMMMMMM! SASHAAAAA! - Elias being a normal person is unsettling - ALL THE EYE JOKES gdi I refuse to simp for eyeball man - THE JARRING "ARCHIVIST" I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD - "If I wish for all of you to go away do you think it'll work?" well it worked on Tim and Sasha - Elias: I'm a cool boss, I can drink wine - the image of Jon just huddled on the couch with a bag of tapes and listening to them over and over is so sad - sorry Gertrude no Sasha, just a sad little man - thank u for the powerpoint Gertrude - JON DON'T SNAP - i love them so much your honor EP 162 (Cosy Cabin): - GERRY GERRY GERRY - okay Gertrude and Gerry are adorable I love goth boy and his badass grandma - Gerry, ever the pragmatist: but what about TAXES gertrude - Tim and Sasha interacting is the sweetest thing ;_; - oh this is AFTER the hookup lmao - OH WAIT Sasha canonically knew about Danny??? I didn't know that oof - Oh Jon's getting a phone call I suppose - Jon's trying so hard to be dramatic and Martin's like "okay bitch grab ur backpack and lets go" EP 163 (In The Trenches): - "Tell everybooooody I'm ooon my waaay, new frieeends and new plaaaaces to seeeee" - YESSS LET MARTIN CURSE OVER THE GUNSHOTS AND BAGPIPES - "Martin can you stand over there and cover your ears while I cast Eldritch Ramble" EP 164 (The Sick Village): - another one that hits different in corona times - I hate the word soupy - what in the midsommar - if you can't find your own statements, DIY your own - Martin: fuck u Jon, Helen's my friend now - Martin: can I get an Uber, can I PLEASE get an Uber EP 165 (Revolutions): - this is my friend's favorite episode so I'm excited - oh circus music gross - THE RHYMINGGGGG OH I LOVE THIS - my arms are sore from happy stimming at this audio oh my god - SHUT UP JON IT WAS A GOOD POEM - GET HER ASS JON - is that our first "Ceaseless Watcher"?? I think it was! - Jon: Level Up! - Martin: that's hot EP 166 (The Worms): - HELL YES JON SAID FUCK - oh worm? - Martin answer your damn phone - awww Martin don't doubt yourself :C EP 167 (Curiousity): - Fiona: lmao watch this -passes out- - oh I didn't realize Eric was one of the OGs, their conversations make more sense now - Michael :c - Gertrude you got played like a fiddle damn EP 168 (Roots): - jealous Martin lmao - Jon just tell him why you woke up that would probably solve this - As someone who also freaks out about every little twinge this episode felt targeted EP 169 (Fire Escape): - desolation time? desolation time. can't wait to walk through hell - so aside from Smirke's 14 we have the 3 additional fears: the Extinction, the Scotland, and the Landlord - oh this one is terrifiyng i love it - OOOOH the "jons" slowly fading in was really clever - G O D martin sounds so defeated poor boy EP 170 (Recollection): - Martin finding tape recorders is the cutest thing - Oh fuck are we in the Lonely oh shit - this is so disconcerting i love it - someone get this man a better chair EP 171 (The Gardener): - Martin: damn that's a lot of bones - oh not THIS dude again I can barely understand him oh my GOD - well that was interesting EP 172 (Strung Out): - oh web? - oh this is sad shit - I think this is one of the worst domains yet for me personally this sounds like hell - g o d the web makes my brain hurt blease Jonny I'm stupid EP 173 (Night Night): - oh dark? - oh so the darkness is just the apocalypse daycare? nice - oh and this tween runs it, nice - Jon: are you SURE you want me to kill this middle schooler? - wow this is depressing EP 174 (The Great Beast): - oh hunt? - oh vast? lmao that's what i get for assumptions - Martin just wants to kill a man is that too much to ask someone give him a gun EP 175 (Epoch): - ex...tinct...ion? - “Peter was right” no FUCK YOU I refuse to give Peter any credit LOOK ADELARD WAS RIGHT, Adelard Decker laid the BLUEPRINT - poor Jon he's gettin these hard-hitting google searches - Basira and Daisy?????? OH WAIT THAT MEANS OH NO

[schrijverr]

Buried Truths

During a moonquake Jonny and Tim get buried under the rubble together. Jonny tells Tim about his immortality as they try and dig themselves out and they grow closer.

On AO3.

Ships: Bertie x Tim in the background, but this is a Tim & Jonny fic

Warnigs: Jonny gets crushed by boulders two times, it’s not graphic, but watch out. Tell me if I missed anything or if you’d like me to tag something!!

~~~~~~~~ 

Moonquakes, no one had told them anything about fucking moonquakes when they’d signed up.

They didn’t tell them about a lot of thing of course, but Tim was actually pissed off at this, because you didn’t think of moonquakes when you thought of a war. Most he could have come up with if he’d thought through the patriotic haze, but this? This fucking sucked.

The moonquakes wouldn't have been so bad if they weren’t fighting in literal tunnels, so every single shudder of the moon could be the one that buried them.

Tim hated it, he would rather be microwaved or chocking on gas.

He had told the others that one day, earning him a slap from Bertie, who’d told him he shouldn’t die at all, but Jonny had agreed: “Yeah, getting buried alive fucking sucks, not a pleasant way to go.”

Which had been a strange way to phrase that, but Tim had just been glad to have someone on his side to complain to about the moonquakes.

Something he was doing right now, while they marched: “I just don’t get why they didn’t tell us any sooner, you know? I mean, of course, I get why they didn’t put it into their propaganda, but at least mention it during training instead of explaining it when we first experience one.”

“Are you still on about that, love?” Bertie rolled his eyes fondly.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I am British, okay, we don’t do quakes in any way, shape or form and it fucking sucked and I hate every second of every moonquake and the least they could have done was give us a warning beforehand.” Tim pouted indignantly.

Jonny was once again on his side: “He’s right, I have lived most of my life on a solid spaceship, the worst thing is turbulence, not the roof crashing down. A boulder crushing you fucking hurts and I do not need that in my life right now.”

“Exactly, thank you, Jonny.” Tim gave Bertie a triumphant look, again ignoring the strange phrasing of Jonny, just chalking it up to the weirdness that was him.

“You two, I swear, one braincell.” Bertie sighed.

“I don’t know if that was an insult, but-” Tim squinted at Bertie.

“I do, it fucking was, I’m not associated with this dumb fuck.” Jonny interjected, earning a squawk from Tim who immediately went to defend his honor.

They weren’t even a few meters further, still squabbling, when the ground around them started to rumble and shake. The company cursed and tried to find a good refuge spot.

Tim had been carrying a torch and now shone it on the ceiling, to try and gauge, where it would be coming down and where they would be safe. The light hit a quickly loosening boulder directly above Jonnys head.

He cursed again and jumped, trying to get Jonny out of the way, knowing he most likely wouldn't make it.

His hands made contact and Jonny let out a confused yell, but he would not simply budge. It seemed he had quickly figured out what was happening and instead turned them, mid-fall, so that he would be on top, shielding Tim from the down poor of rocks by taking the blows himself.

Tim was about to shout at Jonny, when a rock hit him and the world went black.

When he came to, the world was still black, but in the familiar dark way of the tunnels he’d gotten used to.

It took a moment before he had adjusted enough to try and take in his surroundings. He was lying in the sand of the moon, but the usually cramped tunnels were even tighter. The events from earlier came back with that thought and he realized he must be in a small space underneath the rocks that had fallen on them.

Them. Fuck, Jonny.

He tried to move his hands, so that he could feel if the thing, presumably Jonny, on top of him had a heartbeat he could feel.

After some wiggling he managed to put one hand on what he thought was Jonnys chest, right where his heart should be. His blood froze in his veins. Jonnys chest was cold to the touch and there was no thumping to be felt.

It almost seemed impossible. Tim had seen Jonny survive so much of this war, both suicidal rescue missions and his own stupidity, so the thought that he might not be there anymore was jarring to say the least.

He laid there for a second after that revelation of Jonnys death. It hadn’t really sank in yet and he was mostly shocked, unable to move or think.

When his mind had pushed it away enough, he started to check how hurt he was and how likely it was that he would ever get out of here, or if he would die a slow death by himself. It seemed he was incredibly lucky (because Jonny took the stones, his mind helpfully supplied), because he was mostly in tact, save for some bruises and scrapes.

He should be unharmed if he was able to get out, which was another hurdle. The others would assume they’d died and maybe even leave them here, no rescue mission for corpses. God, Bertie must be so upset right now.

The thought of Bertie lodged something in his throat and he wanted nothing more than to be held in his strong arms, while he whispered to him that everything was going to be alright. Jonny would gag at them and make a face, but they would mind.

A single tear slid down his face, because that would never happen again.

Jonny was gone, he was buried under a pile of rocks and Bertie probably thought they were dead and no one would come for them.

God, Bertie, the man would be heartbroken, but they’d force him to march on all on his own. Tim knew he would break if the roles were reversed and he feared the worst as the seconds ticked by in the dark hole under the rubble.

At one point he had started to dig himself out halfheartedly, but he’d quickly given up and had started to yell, but had stopped that after a long while of nothing as well.

He was just lying there, accepting his slow death, when the form on top of him suddenly jolted, nearly startling him into a heart attack.

Jonny gasped right in his ear and then started to cough into it, much to Tims disgust: “Gross, mate.”

“What?” Jonny sounded like death, which was probably what happened, or at least he had been close to it.

With that reminder, Tim shrieked: “How are you alive?”

“Luck?”

“I felt your heart, it was cold and not beating!”

“It never beats.”

“THAT’S NOT HELPFUL!”

Jonny was quiet for a moment, then he casually asked: “Where even are we?”

Tim opened and closed his mouths for a few times with the sudden topic change, then he sighed and said: “Under the rubble, we got buried during the quake.”

“That fucking sucks.” Jonny answered after a beat.

“Yeah, I’ve made peace with dying, because I think the others have already moved on. So, coming back from the brink of death isn’t going to do you any good.” Tim told him.

“I didn’t come back from the brink of death, I’m too cool to survive.” Jonny replied.

“What?”

“I fully died and came back. I’m immortal.” Jonny said.

“You’re what?” Tims voice was an octave higher.

“Immortal.” Jonny repeated, “It usually is pretty handy, but I’m not looking forwards to dying a bunch of times here, before I get out and if you die, your body will rot and it will stink.”

“That’s- You’re being really casual about the chance of me dying, you know that?” Tim told him.

He could feel Jonny shrug as he said: “Hey, almost no one I meet will outlive me, I came to terms with you or Bertie dying before I even knew you all that well. It happens, but if it will also stink, it’ll double suck, you know?”

Tim thought about that, then replied: “That’s sounds really fucking sad and I really don’t want to pity you on my deathbed, you’re too annoying for that.”

“It’s not your deathbed.” Tim could feel the eyeroll in Jonnys voice.

“Why not? We’re trapped here, we’ve been here for a long time and nothing has happened yet. Lets face it, the others are already gone.” Tim sighed, defeated.

“Well, I’m not wasting a good war stuck under some rubble, so as long as I’m alive, which is going to be forever, we’re getting out of here.” Jonny said stubbornly, “Besides, I’ve seen Bertie, that guy has a too big case of hearteyes to leave you here, so you better buckle up and start helping me dig us out of here.”

Tim felt Jonnys elbows dig into his stomach and let out a groan, while the annoying asshole on top of him wiggled around until he could start moving rocks from on top of them to the small space they occupied.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Tim hissed.

“Getting us out of here.” Jonny answered.

“Yeah, but one mistake and the whole thing comes crashing down on us, you moron.” Tim exclaimed.

“And I’ll live and shield you, we’ll be fine.” Jonny waved his concern away, “Now, start helping me move this and start yelling. They’re far more likely to come to your aid then mine.”

“What makes you say that?” Tim asked, concerned for his friend, as much as he tried to deny they even were friends.

“Oh, they all still owe me money from when I cheated them out of it with some card games.” Jonny explained.

“You menace.” Tim grinned, before starting to yell and help Jonny out.

An hour later and they had moved about half a meter. It was tiring work and slow going. Where at first they had worked with vigor and yelled loudly, they now were going even slower and working in silence.

Tim was just about to tell Jonny they should give up when a rock above them came loose and crashed down on Jonny. It was too dark to see, but Tim could hear a sickening crunch as Jonny went limp above him once more.

He swallowed heavily and tried not to think about the fact that this was the second time today that the other had given his life to shield Tim and also the second time Tim had the corpse of his friend lying on top of him.

It took a few seconds before Tim had gathered himself enough to remove the rock from Jonnys head. They’d gotten lucky enough that it wasn’t an important rock that kept their ceiling in tact, but just a stray one that had gotten loose in their effort to get free.

While he worked he kept repeating to himself: He’ll get back, he’s fine, he might be dead, but he’ll come back again, he’s fine, he’s immortal, it’s all fine.

However, that was hard to believe and with every passing second that Jonny lay there as still as the corpse he currently was, Tim got more worried.

He’d just stopped digging them out to try and wake Jonny up, illogical as that might be, when Jonny stirred again.

Just like before he suddenly jolted, before gasping a big breath and coughing. Once he’d gathered his bearings, he sighed and casually said: “That never gets pleasant. Any news about our freedom yet?”

“No,” Tim answered with a tight voice, “not yet.”

“Ugh, why can’t they work harder, I hate this.” Jonny complained, even if he did go back to digging them out immediately.

Suddenly the blood in Tims veins froze with a realization he didn’t have before and in a small voice he asked: “What if they got buried too? What if they didn’t make it?”

Jonny stilled his actions at the question. The silence that hung over them was tense and heavy, it was clear that Jonny hadn’t even thought about the others dying, probably so used to them coming back or him not caring.

“They’ll be fine.” it was curt and Tim wasn’t sure if it was him or Jonny himself that the other was trying to convince.

Jonny started digging again, this time more urgently and with less jokes or comments. It was just putting away stone after stone in the dark, hoping that against their worst thoughts that grim possibility wasn’t true.

If the slow going was annoying before, it was infuriating and frustrating now. Inch by inch they moved closer to freedom, closer to an answer about the faith of their fellow soldiers, of Bertie. This time, however, neither slowed down, even as they got tired and it seemed like they made no progress.

With every rock, Tims lost hope.

With every inch, Jonny heart hardened.

In the darkness it was hard to picture anything positive ever coming, there was no light at the end of the tunnel.

Tim chocked out: “I don’t think they made it.”

“Don’t-” Jonny said accusatory, “Just don’t, you don’t get to say that, okay? You’re the mortal one here, I’m told it gives you endurance and hope, so keep hoping, you motherfucker.”

He couldn’t see Jonnys expression in the dark and he didn’t know if he should be grateful for it. Throughout the whole war Jonny had been a rock of unending optimism and fun to cling onto when things seemed hopeless, but now he sounded so vulnerable as well and Tim didn’t know if he wanted to see the other being anything but fun, even if it might be manic.

So, he just kept working and started yelling again, hoping that they would hear a response. He called out: “Bertie? Bertie? Anyone? Sarge? Hello? We’re here!”

Tim took a break to take another deep breath to continue shouting when he faintly heard a very familiar voice call out: “Tim? Tim is that you?”

“Bertie! Bertie, over here!” Tim yelled, shaking Jonny slightly in excitement.

Jonny rolled his eyes and said: “Yeah, yeah, I heard him too,” before yelling: “Start digging, you asshole. We’re fucking stuck here.”

Soon after they heard more exclaims, before rocks started to shift above their heads. It still look a while, but then the final rock got lifted and they found Bertie grinning at them, before paling.

“What? What’s wrong, dear?” Tim immediately asked.

“You two are covered in blood, are you hurt?” Bertie asked, concern lacing his voice.

With the light Jonny and Tim now could look at each other properly. Indeed they were covered in blood and dust. Jonnys hair was absolutely caked and Tim knew he would be complaining about it for days.

“It looks worse than it is.” he told Bertie instead, the truth would come later, when they were clean and safe, “We got lucky.”

“And that you most certainly did.” the sarge stepped up, crossing her muscled arms, “If this weren’t such an important route, we wouldn't have even tried to dig you out. How you even survived in the first place in a miracle.”

“Yeah, if that’s what you want to call it.” Jonny shrugged, before holding out his hands and asking: “Is anyone going to get me out of here now?”

After that it all happened quite quickly. They were out the dirt and into a convoy back to camp, Bertie by their side, then into the cleaning area, before finally being able to rest.

He had been right that Jonny would complain about his hair, but he also found that he didn’t seem to mind as much as before. He’d already had a soft spot for Jonny, annoying as he might be, and it seemed it had only grown. The bastard.

Tim was going to regret this, he could feel it in his bones, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. The little shit could use someone to watch his immortal back.

[kanerboo]

This isn't even really a prompt I just want you to think about Patrick somehow accidentally acquiring a VERY tiny baby kitten, freaking out and calling jonny over to help (because jonny always knows what to do) Only to see he's made a critical error when forced to witness jonny hold this absolutely TINY kitten in his stupidly large hands and hold it so carefully while it like curls up and naps just. In his hand. And lets out tiny purs. And Patrick has to act like he's fine and NOT in love at all

Oh god oh god anon this is just......... the cutest thing ever??

Also yes in my head Patrick doesn’t really like pets (because he’s prissy as fuck and likes his home neat and clean and fur-less) and has never intended to get one, but he stumbles across a tiny kitten one day by the side of the road. It’s tiny and it’s crying and it’s been raining so its ginger fur is soaked a dark, dirty orange, and - god, Patrick can’t just leave it by the road and drive on, he just can’t.

He manages to scrounge up a small towel in the glove compartment where he keeps spare ones in case he needs to wipe down his face and neck post workout or something, wraps the kitten in it, turns up the heating in his car, and drives home while placing a frantic call for help to Jonny.

Jonny arrives in like 40 minutes and somehow in that time he’s managed to get hold of kitten food, kitten formula and bottles for bottle feeding, a litter tray and litter, heating pads and blankets, and a collapsible kitten pen which he immediately unfolds in the middle of Patrick’s living room. The kitten pen is a bright turquoise colour which clashes terribly with all the wood finishings and cream and grey furniture in Patrick’s home.

“What is all this,” Patrick demands. He’s still holding the kitten, wrapped in the towel, keeping his hands around it to keep it warm like Jonny had told him to on the phone. At least it’s stopped crying and shivering.

Jonny stares at him. “Things the kitten needs,” he says slowly, like Patrick’s being an idiot.

“But - I thought you were just gonna come over and help me clean it up and take it to a vet?”

“And then what? Leave it at the vet or back by the road?”

Patrick opens his mouth to reply and then realises that - well, there’s really nothing he can say. He shuts his mouth again.

Fuck. He somehow has a fucking kitten. In his home.

“How’d you even know what to get?” he asks, getting up from the couch and making his way to where Jonny’s kneeling on the unforgiving marble floor, getting the pen set up. He plugs the heating pads in and slides them under the blankets he’s arranged in the pen. Great, now there are unsightly cords of black cable trailing across his living room floor. The kitten squirms a little as he walks, and he holds it against his chest, where it settles again.

For some reason, Jonny flushes.

“What?” Patrick says, insistent.

“Okay, well, there are a couple of people I follow on Instagram, okay, and they rescue kittens,” Jonny says. “And maybe i just - have watched a bunch of videos they posted, and maybe kind of know what kittens need. That’s it.”

There’s just - something about the thought of Jonny watching videos of kitten rescues and learning how to take care of a kitten, that’s making Patrick’s heart thump in a funny way against his ribcage. He holds the kitten tighter against his chest, trying not to think of Jonny - fuckin’ Jonathan Toews, Chicago Blackhawks captain, media darling, being a kitten rescuer on top of, well, everything he already is.

Jonny gets up off the floor, and holds his hands out. “Give me the kitten,” he says, and Patrick passes the small bundle over. “Did you warm more towels in the dryer like I asked you to?”

“Yeah,” Patrick says.

“Bring me one.”

“Say please,” Patrick says, but it’s only out of instinct; he’s already moving towards the kitchen, because when Jonny wants something, hell, he’s going to get it.

The towel is fluffy and warm when he retrieves it from the dryer; by the time he returns to Jonny, Jonny has the kitten unwrapped and cupped in his hands.

And - fuck, it really is tiny. It’s no more than a fragile, vulnerable wisp of orange fur curled in Jonny’s huge palm. If Jonny closed his hand into a fist it would wrap entirely around the kitten.

There’s so much strength and power in those hands, enough to crush the life from this kitten with no effort. And yet -

“There you go,” Jonny’s saying in a low, soft voice, as he takes the warm towel from Patrick and wraps it around the kitten. “Good boy, that’s it. Poor baby, you’re safe now.”

Fuck, fuck, Patrick just - can’t deal with this. It’s too much. He can’t stand here and look at Jonny standing in his home with his enormous hand around a sweet, tiny kitten. His heart is really ramping up with the funny somersaults in his chest now.

He just hopes Jonny’s too focused with staring at the kitten to notice how completely fucked up Patrick sometimes gets about him.

“Did you say - he’s a boy?” he manages to get out. His voice feels tight in his throat.

Jonny presses the kitten to his chest, right over where his heart is. “Yeah, I took a look. When we get him to a vet, they’ll confirm it.”

“I hope he feels better soon,” Patrick says. It sounds - stupid, but that’s all his brain can come up with, because Jonny’s destroyed it.

Jonny strokes a fingertip down the spine of the kitten. Now that it’s almost fully dry, its fur is wispy and soft, almost a halo around its little body. “He looks like you,” Jonny jokes. “Ginger.”

“Shut up,” Patrick says. “I’m not - it doesn’t -“

“Relax, Peeks, I’m just kidding,” Jonny says. He looks down at the kitten, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. “Oh, he’s purring. Come and feel.”

And Patrick somehow manages to make his way to stand in front of Jonny, so close they’re nearly chest to chest, but for the tiny kitten in between them. Patrick puts a tentative finger to the kitten, right next to where Jonny’s still slowly petting it, head to tail, over and over. Jonny’s finger strokes over his on each pass.

“Feel that?” Jonny asks. He looks at Patrick as he says it, and - yeah, fuck, there’s just no way Jonny is any good for Patrick’s heart.

The kitten’s tiny body vibrates under Patrick’s finger.

“Yes,” Patrick says quietly.