#pre-jonmartin

[springypaws]

I don’t think I’ll be able to actually finish this before the end of the month because the brain worms refuse it

BUT!!!

Sketchy gays at their probably-healthiest stages with the most generic relationship-representing pride hearts behind them (I had as much energy to figure out my gender/sexuality headcanons here as I did finishing the thing I gotta be honest)

[modrzewek]

sometimes a night is too hot to cuddle, but that wouldn't stop Jon from having physical contact with Martin whenever possible

I like to think that Martin is a trans man, but Jon is nonbinary and his agab is [REDACTED]

[cult-of-the-eye]

So I had this idea that when Martin gets mad at someone, he represses it and ends up being even nicer to them. It ended up being slightly longer than I thought it would be lol.

Content warnings - slight mention of martin's mum being ill, mental health issues and the effects of trauma are explored, a lot of self-hatred and general angst but a hopeful ending, hurt/comfort's angsty cousin

Martin K Blackwood has never heralded himself to be the most sane of people. He has never been under any illusion as to the effect of his childhood (and...other...situations) on his psyche. He has been to therapy, albeit once, in a short-lived, hugely embarrassing attempt during secondary school, where he was gently informed that his particular set of problems required more qualified areas of intervention. In short, as many times that people have helpfully informed him of his "fucked up"-ness, he has always been the one who was most aware of it. As a method of self-soothing, he tells himself that all poets are tortured. It's just for him, the poetry came before the torture. These thoughts, musings, poetic substance or whatever else, came to him whilst making tea for his boss, Jonathan Sims, one cloud-soaked afternoon.

It wasn't as if he meant it. Making someone tea after they had borderline reduced them to tears wasn't a conscious decision. His feet just moved, as of their own accord, out of Jon's office, one before the other, his trainers making soft thuds against the carpeted floor. Towards the kitchen. And if he's in the kitchen, he might as well make tea. And if he's making tea, he might as well make some for Jon. He put extra care into this mug - if he poured the water with steady hands then maybe he wouldn't start to cry. It would be silly to cry, he decided. This was a realisation that came as he stood still next the counter, watching the tea steep. It wasn't anyone's fault but his own that he cited the case wrong, he should've known. He should've been better at pretending to have a Masters degree in Parapsychology. Serves him right for lying. How could anyone have blamed Jon for shouting? It must seem like he's being inadequate on purpose. Some cruel joke being played on only him. So of course, he shouted. And of course, Martin cried. He expected heaving sobs, thundering through his whole body, as large and foreboding as the sky outside. Instead, they were sharp, singular and furious. How could he have known that he'd get a phone call from the hospital in the middle of the night saying that things had gotten worse? How could he have known that the citing method had changed? How could he have known that he would be saddled with the most inconsiderate, frustrating, bastard of a-

"Martin?"

Luck, it seemed could be added to the list of things Martin had never heralded himself to have. He hoped to whatever was up there, that he'd be wrong, for once. But he knew better than to hope, so he quickly shoved the heels of his palms into his eyes and took a small breath.

"Um, hi Jon, I...I was just, uh..."

"Making tea?" He offered.

Maybe inconsiderate was a tad hasty of him. He looked terrible. There was no way around it. His perfectly corporate office wear looked like it had been slept in for multiple days, the collars no longer perfectly ironed and creases running down his sweater vest. There was no tie and his hair fell out of the pristine up-do that he was sure took him hours to get right every morning. His face was haggard but more open than he was used to. It unnerved him slightly, to see the sharpness of his features microwaved into an artificial softness. It wasn't something he deserved. He had a knack for looking gift horses in their mouths. After all, he had contributed to those sleepless nights, his actions had probably driven Jon's hands frustratedly through his hair. And yet he was standing in the doorway, shifting from foot to foot.

He cleared his throat. He opened his mouth. He closed it. He opened his mouth again. He closed his mouth again. Martin could almost see the synapses firing in his brain, tiny little fireworks connecting dot after dot, trying to construct the most appropriate sentence for the situation. It took a while, but he got there.

"Martin. I came here to inform you that there was an error in the system. The citation method that you had used was in fact, the correct one. You may continue using that and I will have no issue."

Each word arrived stilted. It was as if he had written it out for some AI helper to read out loud and then repeated it back to said robot. Martin didn't mind, exactly, he was too busy processing what had actually been said to care about how he had said it.

"Was that an apology?"

Jon's face shifted immeasurably. It took a few seconds of awkward silence for him to realise that he was blushing. Immediately, Martin took note of all the signs, knowing that now that he'd seen it, he would never want to miss it again. The tips of his ears turned pink and his mouth twitched, as if he was desperately keeping down a vomit of facial expressions. The solid rock of anger was deep inside Martin and thankfully stopped him from regretting anything he had said. His veins turned to gravel, as he clasped and unclasped his hands by his side.

"I believe so.", came the answer. It did nothing to liquify the solidity in his veins, so out came another sentence that he would lie awake thinking about at night.

"Can I have a proper one?"

"I don't know what you mean, Martin."

The tea was cold, anyway. He had nothing left to lose.

"I want an apology, Jon. I take all of your criticisms on stride, no matter how much I think about how you could've said it in a nicer way or how you don't do this with Tim or Sasha or how I've been working my ass off, this whole time. I'm sorry the archives are way more disorganised than you thought they'd be and I'm sorry you're struggling but you shouldn't take that out on me."

"I'm not struggling, Martin."

He barked out a laugh. "Of course that's the bit you focus on."

Finally, he seemed to have touched a nerve. Adrenaline pumped through him, making him feel nauseous. Every bone in his body told him to stop talking, shut his mouth and grovel. Fix this. The words had been projecting out of his mouth, wriggling like sickly, pale maggots, but part of him wanted to keep talking until he was empty. Until he had no more words to throw. But it was in Jon's nature to ruin his plans. Just like he had ruined his promotion by being an ass. Just like he had ruined his ability to hate him by being just the right amount of kind.

"I'm sorry, Martin. I really am."

Martin had once been told by a therapist that he was using the word "should" to beat himself up. This was the very same therapist that had declared her lack of qualification in the first session, so he dismissed it. He thought of her as the "shoulds" flooded into his brain. One stood out from the rest, unable to be sharpened into the weapon he wanted. It shouldn't have been enough. He should have pushed for more of an apology, he should've asked for more kindness, but the fact of the matter was that it was enough. It was Jon and he was apologising. He knew he was going to take it, no matter how this conversation had gone. He knew it from the very first time he laid a cup of tea on his desk and had been barely acknowledged.

"Thank you, Jon."

Maybe he should return to therapy. Maybe he was fucked up. Maybe he was no longer the only one who knew that. Jon awkwardly shuffled off, leaving rubble where there once was a jumper-clad man. Martin did the only thing he knew how to do. He clicked on the kettle, to make another cup of tea.

[ickmick]

good afternoon i bring you gay people today

i was worried over if id get it right but i think my first drawing of martin has gone very well

anyways the pickles thing is from a comment i made on my twitter when showing the wip lol

posted on my twitter as well, and my rambles are under the cut!

feedback on improving with drawing more body types highly appreciated, as well as on how i did on this

also YES im going to be one of those 'annoying' people who watermark all over the place now you cannot stop me

its funny to me, and i can so i will lol (and hey its low opacity you can ignore it just fine)

anyways heres the photo refs from pinterest for martins outfit (id love to have this sweater irl) jons are on my last post :3

[saym0-0]

i keep finding jmart Somewhere Else fics that are the same exact genre as a lot of post armagedont good omens fics, and im realising just how soft i am for this specific brand of 'man works in a little bookshop/cafe/library/ect and goes on walks through london city with his husband and everything is slow paced and okay because they've been through the literal apocalypse and made it out the other side'

[galaxiadecima]

I am horrendously in love with Tim Stoker

[saintbleeding]

[ID: Digital comic depicting Jon and Martin from TMA at some point during season three. Martin is shorter and fat with short, wavy hair. He is drawn in blue and wears circle-framed glasses and a collared shirt. Jon is taller and thin, with long, curly hair tied in a low bun, and scars across his face, neck, forearms and hands. He is drawn in red, and wears rectangular glasses and a rumpled shirt and tie.

Martin sits at his desk, reading a paper document intently and chewing on a fingernail until Jon interrupts by clearing his throat, then says “Erm. Hi. Brought you a sandwich. If- if you wanted to have lunch with me. I- I mean. Obviously you can, erm. You can keep it. Either way, I mean.”

Martin stares at him in perturbed silence for a moment before saying “Um. O...kay?”

In the next panel, they sit opposite one another at Jon’s desk, Martin eating the sandwich and Jon watching him intently. Jon says “You--aren’t in trouble or anything.” to which Martin replies “Oh. Hah. Um. Good?”

Jon continues “I- just... haven’t seen a lot of you this week.” Martin awkwardly agrees, then, after a pause, says “Um. Thanks. F- For the sandwich.”

Jon blusters ahead, saying “Mm. I- can I tell you something?” to which Martin says “Uh... y- yeah?”

The next panel shows a close-up of Martin, with Jon’s diatribe surrounding him. Only the first sentence is fully legible; it says “Martin I just want to say that I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable on Friday night.” The profuse apology continues, fading at the bottom of the panel into “blah, blah, blah”.

The next three panels show Martin sadly lowering his head as a blue fog descends around him. His thoughts are visible as he thinks to himself “Oh. Well. (caps) Obviously (end caps) he doesn’t actually like you, stupid.”

In the next panel, the fog has faded, and Martin runs a hand through his hair, giving a fake smile as he says “Hah, Jon, it’s fine. Don’t worry. I get it.”

Jon stares back in perturbed silence, before also giving a fake smile and saying “Right. Yes. Good. Um. Thank you.”

The last panel shows them both, smiling at one another. Martin’s hands are in his lap and Jon has his fingers steepled in front of his mouth. Martin says “It- it’s fine. Let’s--just--forget it happened.” Jon replies “Er. I- w- yes. I- I expect that’s probably for the best.”

End ID.]

hi i have continued the crime i commenced the other day here. god forbid men confess their feelings for each other in a straightforward manner ig.

[tma-ficrec]

Hey! I know the blog hasnt been that active as of late, I hope you all are doing well :) I'm searching for a lost fic, basically a series of letters and notes between Jon and Martin where it ends with writing in Martin's notebook

Hi there! We've been good, just busy with life (...and getting consumed by another fandom in my case, sorry bout that!) I don't think I was able to find the specific fic you mentioned, at least not with that ending, but I offer some letters and notes fics that might be similar:

i don't wanna say it out loud by sailormomotaros. Jonmartin. 1k words. S4. canon-compliant

A series of interdepartmental memos exchanged between Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, and Martin Blackwood, Archival/Administrative Assistant, between January and October of 2019.

To Whom it May Concern by Olive_Heaven. Jonmartin. 1.2k words. Pre-canon. Canon-divergent. Fluff.

After losing one too many pens to a mysterious pen thief, Jon is fed up with it. Tim insists it’s not him (and for once he believes him because even Tim’s not stupid enough to lie when confronted) so he’s left with one logical option: Write the offender passive aggressive notes until they take the hint and back off. With a little more focus on the aggressive versus the passive. . . . Martin is having a bit of a rough day and he may have been far pettier replying to that note than he intended to be. It’s not his fault he forgot which desk was that Tim guy’s and which was his coworker’s. But whoever wrote it seems to be a right prick so he doesn’t feel too bad about it. Besides, it’s a way to pass the time.

If anyone else knows the particular one Laric is talking about, please drop it in a reblog or replies!

[hezekiahwakely]

Chapters: 1/1 Words: 4,397 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist & Tim Stoker Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Pre-Canon, Missing Scene

I wrote this for @tmaappreciationweek (Day 1 Prompts: Favorite Main Character(s) and Pre-Canon) and only now got around to editing and posting it 🙈 Woe, Martin’s ice cream birthday outing be upon ye

Fic Summary:

Jon stumbled, tripped, and fell into a leadership role that he had no business even looking at in the first place. But the job is his, and he needs his new assistants to believe he's worthy of it so very, very badly. It also just so happens that Martin (ugh) has a birthday coming up. So he formulates a cunning plan: take them all out for ice cream to secure their undying favor and appreciation.

Surely this will go smoothly.

[fridayyy-13th]

woah holy shit i’m posting more than one doodle in a day?? not only that but a whole sketchbook page??? wild

[ids in alt]

(the galactic text in the jmart drawing says "my fucking God these bitches gay good for them" and the galactic text in the drawing of me says "ughhh idk what to drawww." i drew the tape and the lighter after that, bc i wanted to fill some space) (also yes i know the tape isn't the most accurate i didn't have a reference and didn't grow up in an era where they were common :////) (anyway)

[rauchendesgnu]

So, I'm obsessed with the Magnus Archives now...

...which means that I'll try to write more for both Sandman and TMA (I'm not quite done with Season 5 yet, but we're getting there).

For now (because I'm not quite done with my first Elias comic), I wrote a thing.

[batterycows]

Me pre-tmagp7: omg Jonmartin !! It’s great to hear them even tho I don’t think it’s literally them. It’s probably just their voices or a fragment or

Me post-tmagp7: This might be Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London

[modrzewek]

TMA sketch dump since I already draw them so much, thought I could share some of my brainrot

the one above is a scene from Found in the School Library by @hezekiahwakely and mermaid Jon has been planted in my head from reading The Sea Calls Me Home by @cowboyselkie (though it's been a while since I've read this fic so he probably looks different than there)

[pillowspace]

(Note: this may also include alternate universes or canon divergences based around that time period)

[thevoidcannotbefilled]

I really don't like love at first sight Jmart or even, early season 1 canon compliant crushes. I think Martin got an early crush and Jon started to tolerate/care about him after Martin got back after Prentiss, but I don't think they really understood each other for awhile. Which to me, is part of the reason I really like their dynamic

Idk I keep thinking of the moment where Jon gets back to the archives in season 3. Most people focus on Martin making sure Jon's okay. Making moments where he takes care of Jon's wounds.

I keep thinking of the part where Martin apologizes for reading the statements. Where Jon is surprised, says it's not a problem. Critically, in context, Martin basically believes that Jon cares more about the statements than Martin's wellbeing.

It just. It's so tragic. At this point we understand that Jon is becoming more and more of a monster because of the statements. Martin knows something is up with the Institute but not enough to be able to ward Melanie away from the job. In regards to their relationship, they obviously both care a lot about each other but neither know how to show it. They are not to the point of communicating that care except in ways that are not direct.

This moment shows just how far they have to go in both how much they can communicate but also, just how much the other knows they care about the other. Their roles as boss and assistant are still there, parodies of that dynamic but still there nonetheless, and their previous interactions haunt them.

As much as I adore the concept of a pre-Unknowing kiss, canonically I'm glad it didn't happen. S3 Jmart cannot communicate beyond their previous dynamic no matter how flimsy it may be. Jon keeps it up as a way to protect them while Martin keeps it up as to keep the peace. Perhaps if one of them broke it, Jon may not have gone to the Unknowing. After all, Jon in s5 was willing to give up on his plan to destroy the world to destroy the fears for Martin, I wouldn't doubt he'd do the same in season 3 with enough insistence.

But they didn't. They both waited for things to get "better". For a "good" moment that would never come. For a change to happen that would make a romance more convenient, an end.

But there is no end to the fears. Their unfair nature are a quintessential part of their universe and there is no moment where love could be convenient. It happens in spite of the fears.

The messy nature of Jon and Martin are part of why I adore their dynamic. While the fluffy versions of romance is nice sometimes, I find the depth of them so much more tragic in nature. Not only because they could have had a better ending but also that ending did not happen because the lack of response on their end.

Jonmartin to be is a tragedy of what if. What if Jon was nicer. What if Jon didn't suspect Martin. What if Martin had the courage to tell Jon how he felt. What if Jon told Martin he loved him before the Unknowing. What if they ran away together. What if, what if, what if-

But they didn't. They waited for something more ideal.... until the end of the world and there was no chance for a happily ever after ever again.

[allgreekbitch]

Jonmartin pre-relationship sickfic where Jon is sick but, as the workaholic that he is, doesn’t stop to take a breath or relax or get better so Martin takes care of him.

“Jon?”

“Martin?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know… was passing by and heard really bad coughing from in here. You also sound like crap.”

“Well, thank you, Martin.”

“I didn’t mean—your voice just sounds kind of hoarse.”

Only Jon doesn’t realise he’s being taken cared of because at first he dismissed every worry and rejected every help, so Martin did it subtly. He kept bringing him tea, and

“Oh, I just had some leftover soup.”

“You… You came to my flat just to bring me leftover soup?”

“Yep! And this eucalyptus oil, it helps with a stuffy nose.”

“Right…”

And then, despite hating recording statements, Martin offered to record a few days’ worth of statements so Jon could rest. And whether he liked it or not, Jon stayed at home and under a blanket until Martin showed up after work again and to check on him.

I mean the vision is as clear as day.