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As much as it hurts to think about, it looks like if Jon dies at the end, he’ll at least be going as someone people love.

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Jon spent all of 190 being like "Oh thank god, people aren't mad at me for things I didn't intentionally do or want, like ending the world. People are mad at me for being a smart-ass, which I am choosing to be!"

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Call me a Jon sympathizer, but I’m so glad Helen revealed herself to be a shit friend to Melanie so that she didn’t end up holding her death against Jon.

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Jon’s a sweater stealing bastard, but who can blame him when he’s this cute 😪

Anyways @mini-minish hcs that Jon’s favorite color is peach and always steals martins fav peach sweater

Bonus martins reaction

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Georgie Barker Additional Tags: Georgie's only there for a hot second, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Cis Martin Blackwood, Communication, past dubious consent, Canon Asexual Character, Canon Bisexual Character Summary:

Martin seeks out permission to sexualize Jon in his fantasies and Jon takes it to mean that he'd like to watch Jon while he gets off. They talk about it and try it while adjusting on the fly when Jon surprises them both by taking an interest in the proceedings.

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tma but its a gym au

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He wants it he wants it SO bad. Please. Please let him in

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‘arcadia’

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💜ace wlw moodboard 💜

i’m good, i’m good, i’m good living life just like i should

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what if jon seriously had a juul

like he’s recovering from a cigarette addiction, and he sees e-cigarettes as a better alternative to regular cigarettes. and then he finds fruit flavored ones and that tastes better. and he might know what memes are in an abstract sense but he’s not actually looking at them.

and then tim goes on his lunch break one day to find jon standing outside the institute, hitting a juul

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Nothing can convince me that working in artifact storage wasn’t just British SCP Foundation shenanigans.

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When The Archivist is in danger he has two possible responses

1. Oh, no. Oh nononono *starts breathing so hard that he can barely speak*

2. Oh, right, ANOTHER ONE kidnapping me. Like I have nothing better to do. If you want to kill me, at least make it quick, I'm on a schedule. You are like third one this week, damn it, zero respect for my time.

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JMart - My boyfriend, the genius

The thing about living with Jonathan Sims was that, well, he wasn’t one of those geniuses in the movies, right? But he was intelligent and well versed in the rigmarole of academia to the point that Martin sometimes felt like he had little place among the research detritus. He felt like… like he wasn’t intelligent enough sometimes – because he did alright in school! But he wasn’t driven to know and find out more and more. Answers would come to him or if he was really curious, a quick google would steer him right. He liked that some things were mysterious to him, loved the aura of mysticism it gave things. Call it the poet in him.

Jon was the opposite, always doggedly pursuing one topic or another. An admirable quality for a researcher, but sometimes not the best quality for a partner.

Still, as uncomfortable Martin found himself in the stacks of books with assorted receipts shoved halfway through to mark something or another, dating an academic was sort of growing on him. An incomplete list of things Martin was coming to adore:

Jon had a small but very nice collection of fountain pens and he knew how to use them. He confided that they weren’t the best for scrawling notes, but when he was writing up a final draft he would break them out, a small ritual that he greatly enjoyed.

Jon’s flat, then Martin’s flat, and then their flat was always decorated in post its with incomprehensible revelations or topics jotted down and stuck somewhere roughly eye level. Half the time, even Jon forgot what they were all about. But every once in awhile there would be a bright pink higher than usual with something sappy that made Martin go soft all over (and more than once had set him crying).

There was never a shortage of new reading material. Jon wasn’t much for consistency and would abandon a book at the drop of a hat, but if he thought it might be something Martin would enjoy, he would hold onto it. There was something so warm about Jon telling him that he knew Martin would enjoy something or that he’d been reading and something reminded him of Martin. It felt like a level of intimacy he’d never had before.

Despite his picky appetite for books, Jon would finish any book Martin asked him to and if he indicated that he liked a particular passage, he would do a dramatic reading. Martin adored his voice.

There were other things that Martin hated about it. An incomplete list of things Martin hated:

When a deadline was approaching or when he was being worked too hard, Jon would get snappish. It wasn’t pleasant to deal with, but Martin hated how it wore on Jon more than anything. If Martin pointed it out or if Jon caught himself, he would start retreating in on himself. Sometimes he would just be quieter than normal. Sometimes it was like living with a ghost. Every time, Martin would have to seek him out and quiet his objections. Jon felt like Martin could do better, would do better. That he was damned to be alone with his books for the rest of his life.

Whether he intended for it to come across that way or not, Jon could be horrendously, obnoxiously condescending. They’d fought over it in the past and Martin was fairly sure they would again. It was never intentionally directly at Martin, but he felt the sting of Jon’s scorn regardless.

Jon wasn’t always the best at capping his ink pens and they always seemed to burst in his pocket. As Martin did the laundry, he felt Jon could be doing better on that front.

The way that suddenly, inexplicably, Jon would get sad.

The last one wasn’t so much about the academia itself, but a byproduct of it unfortunately being one of Jon’s triggers. On a normal day, it was fine and good and simply how Jon lived his life. On a bad one, Martin felt like he had to keep one hand on him at all times or he’d shake himself apart.

The romance between a researcher and a librarian seemed like a meet cute for the ages, but the two of them weren’t fresh faced twenty somethings in a movie. They each came with baggage and they each came with scars.

“You look like you’re having some heavy thoughts.” That’s all the warning Martin gets before Jon drops on the couch beside him and gently shoulder’s his way under Martin’s arm. It had been a struggle getting Jon to feel comfortable enough to touch him without asking and every time it made Martin’s heart do something funny.

“Yeah, maybe,” he sighed and pulled Jon in closer. His hair was up in a messy bun today, leaving his neck open for wistful kisses and Martin was ready to take full advantage. Jon tipped his head to the side  at the first brush of his lips, eyes going closed. A smile curled his lips, but he wasn’t going to be distracted.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Martin paused and then nudged his forehead against Jon’s. For a moment they didn’t say anything. They shared their warm breath and Martin had to remind himself that, yes this was his life. And his boyfriend!

“Honestly? Not really,” he said. “It’s nothing that serious. I’m just in a bit of a mood, I think.”

“Anything I can do?”

“Honestly?” Martin laughed. “You’re doing everything I could ask for right now.”

Jon let that sentiment lie between them, Martin’s heart on a platter, for a long moment before sighing.

“You utter sap,” he said and yelped as Martin tugged Jon against himself as he leaned back against the arm. Martin captured his lips for a brief moment and then kissed his temple for good measure.

“Guilty as charged,” he admitted easily. “Love, you have ink on your cheek. What have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know,” Jon said, wiggling to free a hand that he waved vaguely. “Research. My new- My boss wanted me to fact check something for a paper a student submitted.”

His new boss.

“My genius,” Martin cooed instead of voicing the concerns that bubbled up in the back of his mind.

“Stop it.”

“The next Einstein.”

“I don’t even work in a scientific field, Martin.”

“An intellect of his generation.”

“Stop.”

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drew this in july or august idk but excited now that the girls are actually here

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jmart car ride

It’s the last leg of their journey and Jon is driving. When they last stopped, he gently, so gently told Martin to get some rest. Martin had agreed and accepted the blanket Jon fished out of their haphazardly packed bags. He’d closed his eyes and tried… really!

But he kept getting distracted. By the sights along the near deserted winding country roads at first and then by Jon himself.

The car had been quiet – the preset radio stations had long been abandoned and neither of them had went out of their way to find another – but then Jon began to softly hum. It sounded almost familiar at first, but the melody didn’t resolve itself into any song he knew. Still, it was lovely.

Jon was lovely and Martin had no idea what to do with these feelings.

He ached with the urge to say something, ask what Jon had meant by pulling him from the Lonely like he did. If he had done it from requited affection or… as a friend? Martin was almost positive Jon had feelings for him, but what if he was wrong?

Martin was reminded of every meme about gay insecurity he’d posted to his long deleted high school tumblr.

“Fellas, is it gay to stare into your coworkers eyes and implore them to see you and then hold their hand as you lead them out of a fear dimension centered around being abandoned and alone?”

Martin almost laughed, but he was sure if he did it would turn to tears. Even if it didn’t, it would disturb Jon’s humming and he really didn’t want to lose the gentle background noise.

He also really, really wanted to hold Jon’s hand again.

It was curled around his long cold coffee cup, fingers absentmindedly tapping along with the unnamed tune. Something so scarred probably shouldn’t have looked so graceful, but Martin had always liked Jon’s hands. Worm scars, burns, nothing could make them less beautiful to him. The memory of that hand in Martin’s own was one that he would take to the grave. If he weren’t so emotionally exhausted, he was sure he could craft a poem or two (or ten) on the simple act of holding Jon’s hand.

He wanted to hold it again, but what if that distracted Jon or he said no? Martin couldn’t take the rejection, not right now.

So Martin just… watched Jon’s hand and let his thoughts wander.

Until, of course, Jon lifted his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. It had escaped Jon’s steadily unwinding braid and glancing at it set Martin’s mind to thoughts of combing it and braiding it for him. Maybe at the safe house he would let him.

The soft black-grey curling around Jon’s ear, along the scarred column of his neck drove Martin to distraction. There was a worm scar just under his jaw and Martin was consumed entirely with thoughts of kissing it. Kissing all of the scars that dotted Jon’s body.

Martin was sure it would be the death of him. But then. But then -

Jon reached over and took one of Martin’s hands in his, easy as breathing. He brought their clasped hands to his heart and glanced over, a small, secret smile curling his mouth.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked, still watching Martin from the corner of his eye.

“Can’t you just know?” Martin asked, more archly than he actually intended. He grimaced at his tone, and tried to correct it. “I’m-”

“I’m actively trying not to know what you’re thinking, actually,” he said. His eyes slid back to the road. “But by now I can definitely know when I’m being watched. I’ve got a bit of experience, you know.”

Martin did know, had listened to the tape where Jon confessed as much. Had felt it himself when he recorded them in Jon’s absence.

“I- Uh, sorry.”

“Don’t be. If I’m doomed to a life of being watched then I vastly prefer you to be the one doing the watching.” That did things to Martin’s heart and he was suddenly glad their clasped hands weren’t on his chest instead.

“As opposed to the uh, eye in the sky?” he asked awkwardly.

Jon laughed once, short and bitter. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Martin didn’t know what to say to that, but that was okay. Jon brought their hands to his mouth and placed a gentle kiss on the back of Martin’s before letting them drop to his lap. His focus shifted entirely back to the road before them. That was okay too.

“I love you,” Martin said, unable to help himself.

Jon squeezed his hand.

“I love you, too.”

It was all finally going to be okay.

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My name is Quin or Arte (they/them) and I’m new to the magnus archives. If anyone has any recs I’d be glad to see them. I write fics, probably just AUs because my memory is not great.

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