#might as well draw a happy jon <3

[abelllia]

[ID: A traditional drawing of Jonathan Sims from the Magnus Archives crossing his arms while he grins fondly at something unseen to the left. He is a thin British-Indian man with a moustache and wavy hair parted in the middle. He wears wiry rectangular glasses, eyeglass chains, a starched shirt, a necktie, a sweater vest, and a formal jacket. He holds a file under his right arm. Next to him to the left are the words "No 1. Babygirl" with two hearts doodled next to them, one on the left and one on the right. /.End ID]

my no.1 bbygrl of all time <3 this is my way of distracting myself, you get to decide what he's smiling at, run wild.

[catofoldstones]

hi i'm still here :) those things about fandom denying theorizing about jonsa just bothered me heavily since fans accepted almost every theory under the sun but hypothetical j0nsa is where they draw the line they accepted curtain of light theory and 3 heads of the dragons saving the world for years before a hypothetical cousin marriage/bethrodal that ties a lot of plot threads and themes together and resolves so much of the missing plot pieces from the show, i might not personally like it cause of the incest implications but im also consistent with hating all jon's incest ships and still keeping an open mind about j0nerys and j0nsa on a storytelling basis but j0nsa is a theory that intrigued me so much because it did make sense from the drafts,the fact that sansa will end up at winterfell with the vale army by the time jon wakes up and changes into who knows what (again fans straight up ignoring which stark is actually the closest to winterfell will never not make me laugh) to the many gothic literature and historical references george takes to especially the ashford theory thats so unavoidable i call fans extremely blind for being this in denial that it might happen as a plot point and since aegon is most likely going to be busy with dorne/cersei/dany or euron and most likely die in the south (rip son) i highly doubt sansa will tie into his plot unless thats the last targ suitor she's supposed to be betrothed with and again its kinda a big nothing theory to me cause sansa going south would be repetitive and its already been debunked with the AFFC draft leaks unless aegon wants a claim to the north which again im pretty sure he'll be engaged to arianne for martell points and allyship (also her being engaged to a secret fake bastard heir was already done with joffrey and it being completely reversed with j0n feels more complete as an end point to that theory/arc there's no way george would pass that up).

i also don't think this is all jon and sansa have to offer as characters,its what bothers me with other ship fans as well i like them as separate characters and i also feel like looking at the story, if it were to happen i don't believe it would be a fairytale romance or ending or be anytype of normal relationship, i might even be completely wrong and j0nsa might never come up (also feel like george would be wary of doing this now when media literacy is at an all time low but fandom toxicity is high as the heavens), both sansa and jon fandom theories have been through a rollercoster over the years im just happy that fans finally have theories that actually makes sense storytelling wise and not something for wish fulfillment but bias still runs amok in the fandom unfortunately and it still clouds a lot of convo about the characters and plot theories

sorry for rambling in your inbox again

Hello :3 nice to see you again

anon can I call you soulmate anon because every sentiment you’ve portrayed here is exactly what I believe too! I like jonsa too because it’s v compelling and it has good evidence to back it up, but I’m really iffed up because of the incest too. Well not because I’m a pearl-clutching puritan but because it’s not fair to Sansa tbh, as a teenaged girl in a deeply patriarchal society. If she’s the girl in grey who runs away to Jon for protection, it’ll not be as a friend who’s seeing another friend after a long time, it’ll be because she wants protection from her brother. Then comes in the question of her claim to Winterfell. If she marries Jon to smooth out the inheritance crisis, the North would still belong to Jon & not Sansa. They will not be equal in that marriage or as the lord and lady of Winterfell. However, there are far, far too many indications of a jonsa match, textually and subtextually, which I am right there with you anon, are so compelling! It would only be a blind man to not see them. And the fandom collectively vehemently denying jonsa is v funny to me because it sounds so much like

“Do you believe women are humans?”

“Yes”

“Do you believe women should have the same rights as men?”

“Yes, absolutely!”

“So you are a feminist.”

“Eww, no.”

Like, the text is glaringly pointing at something with air raid sirens and neon red lights, but what could it mean, hmm 🤔 Like c’mon guys my cat could figure out what’s going on at this point.

Though, I do believe that the Ashford Targaryen suitor could be Aegon VI for Sansa. While a lot of people believe that Aegon will marry/betrothe Arianne for that Dorne support but that doesn’t make sense to me because

1. It’s like Sansa would marry into the Tully family for support to take back the North

2. The Dornish are already burning to avenge Elia

3. Arianne is the heir to Dorne in her own right (and has had major plot around that), marrying the next King of the 7 kingdoms hardly makes sense for her.

BUT Aegon & Arianne’s plots are barreling towards each other and they very well might just get married to secure another plot point that I cannot think of right now. And I know that Aegon is doomed and Arianne survives (George, pls or else 🔪🔪) so that’s another reason why Aegon & Sansa can’t happen. And Jon being the Targeryen suitor holds so much more literary weight than a rando who has never had an impact on her or her emotions or her plot (apart from your brilliant points). Also, no I am not debating the “Dunk disturbed the Ashford Tourney so Sxn/dxr is the one for Sansa” because we’ve debated to death that even being granted the title of Maid does not mean anything like a betrothal in Westerosi society or has negative consequences (r + l & that whole war it started). Also, just because Dunk got in the middle of the Tourney does not mean that he got the girl in the end. Hope that helps. Moreover, Dunk’s asoiaf corollary is Brienne not sxn/dxr, so by their logic, briensa ftw!!!!!!!!!!

Anon, the way everyone ignored the affc outline just because it showed something the Sansa fandom had been (rightly) theorising for years now has me rolling on the floor 😂 the denial, the denial is so strong with these people, even the “neutrals”. Don’t even get me started on the BNFs. If something like this were leaked about xrya or dxny, it would have been front page news that breaks the asoiaf fandom containment lol.

Stark closest to Winterfell and takes north! C’mon now anon, don’t give these people a heart attack.

Yes well, there have been one too many people in this fandom (as is common in any other fandom *cough* jxnxryas *cough*) to reduce the characters to the ship but the block button is my lord and saviour. Shipping is so that we can bring out the best (or the worst) character traits in the people we’re shipping, not to water down the said character traits.

There’s a chance that jonsa doesn’t happen in the books or happens just in the subtext or whatever, and I’ll be fine with that as long as the stories for both Jon and Sansa have satisfying and empathetic progression. Though I would terribly like for it to happen just to dunk on the haters and the BNFs and the “skeptics” lol. I am trying to be a better person these days, but pettiness is my second daughter 🤪 and to add to this point, if jonsa doesn’t happen, that still won’t erase the heavy foreshadowing we’ve been seeing in the text till now. If some other ship had the Ashford theory, the Byronic connection, JONnel Stark marrying a girl named xrya or an ancestor Sansa Stark marrying a -whoever- in their lineage, the plot satisfaction, the narrative parallels, the textual connection, it would be considered canon by now. But no, since it’s Jon x Sansa and that is still somehow a pretty strong contender for breaking all your ships, they will close their eyes and call it a crack ship. Baby a crack ship is me and Oscar Isaac or Sasuke and Taylor Swift. But if Sasuke and Taylor had all of this evidence, it would, once again, be considered canon. Sigh, just take your Sansa hatred elsewhere man, we’re not in 2006 anymore.

Dude, I found older forums/metas a while back and there is nowhere that Sansa was mentioned w/o sxn/dxr. Sxn/sxn was just a given. It was canon, it was always going to happen and that’s just so reductive tbh. I’m v v grateful that the meta and fandom spaces (maybe just a small corner but that is enough for me) have evolved so much through the years otherwise I would get beaten here every day. It’s still toxic as hell though, with the level of trash metas that will give early asoiaf fandom a run for its money and at one point you just want to scream- you all realise that these are books, right? and we’re the readers! you’re not dxny or jon or tyrion or even fleabottom ragpickers! none of this is real 😭 i should not be coming here, armoured and with a sword, to defend my fav characters, i should be having fun here and exchanging stupid ideas 😭 but asoiaf fandom remains asoiaf fandom however well the ways of hating may have changed.

But please, always ramble in my ask box anon. I love reading your thoughts and it gives me a chance to ramble as well :)

[lil-melody-moon]

Melody, my dear? Tell us 10 songs that remind you of 10 different people in your life 🤍

10 songs that remind me of 10 different people... I hope you don't mean people I know personally, because I will mention someone I don't know, dear Anon <3

Love Ain't for Keeping by The Who - I hear it and I think of Keith Moon right away. Could be because that was the song that made me listen to The Who or it might be because of the lyrics that I associate with my feelings to him or maybe both, it's hard to tell.

Total Eclipse of The Heart by Bonnie Tyler - I associate this one with my mom. She's a big fan of Bonnie, heck we both are, but this is the first song I heard by Bonnie and the first song that mom played for me when I was tiny. So that's my mom's song <3

Tea For One by Led Zeppelin - dad's favorite, he goes bonkers when he hears it, as in the volume goes up and there's no way somebody will turn it lower. Also the first song by Led Zeppelin dad wanted to show me and he kind of did. I just wasn't swayed by it until I grew up enough to let this masterpiece carry me with its notes.

Hysteria by Def Leppard - song I associate with @jimmysdragonsuit13 She brought me into Def Leppard and this one just makes me think of her each time I hear it. I love this song btw, but shhh...

Hey Joe by Jimi Hendrix or any other song by him - makes me think of Anja. She loved Jimi to death, actually the last fic that I wrote for her was with him, she loved it a lot. One big happiness for her in the last few weeks <3

Lazy by Deep Purple - this is @fiammee song. Whenever I hear Jon Lord playing I think of her and her amazing drawings I've seen published here. She's really talented, go check her blog out!

Tangerine by Led Zeppelin - I associate this with @groovyysav Not only for her deep love to Robert Plant, but the vibe of it I somehow associate with the vibe she gives. Country peacefulness with a lot of love and yapping <3

Boris The Spider by The Who - this is a stupid association, but our friendship is stupid as well, so @juliearchery107 that's the song that makes me think of you because of your arachnophobia XD

Love Never Dies by Julian Lennon or any other song by him - @peaceloveandstarrs is such a big fan of him that it's difficult for me to not think about her when I hear his songs.

Girl's Eyes by The Who - and maybe that's a bit not by the rules of the ask, but I can't help it. This song hit me like a train when I heard it and so, this is the me song, as in, I think about myself when I hear it. Simple lyrics, nothing too big of a song for this band, but I've never felt so called out by a song. So it gets a spot here <3

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

Nice answers! Can’t wait for more :D

1: I know in comics it’s just easy to draw but how does Jake (& some of his family) doesn’t get his identity revealed just wearing a domino mask? (Chris at least wears glasses & acts differently most likely) it would be cool if he got a full mask with a voice changer (my updated version of Jake has a black mask with white eye lenses & a flaming Nightwing logo in the middle)

2: what’s the duos bestest prank they ever pulled?

3: what’s their favorite “prank” items? Fake poo, whoppy cushion, arrow through the head “hat” etc

4: let’s say the duo wants to pull a “Batman Beyond,” who would they pass their superhero title to?

5: How would you bring the starburst duo into the main DC universe? Another crisis or just leave as is in your universe?

Happy April Fools Buddy @pin-crusher2000 and I assure you this’ll be no April Fooling around in this answer ;-)

1) He is able to hide his identity via both his subtle posturing which allows him being more laidback and casual and inflections on his voice which have him sound less guttural and deep when he’s not wearing his domino mask. I base this subtly in his presentation based on how both Grant Morrison and artist Frank Quitely demonstrate the differences between Clark Kent and his alter ego within All Star Superman

2) Oh it’s definitely the time they emptied out some bullies’ body sprays in their lockers during swimming lessons, refilling them with ladies’ perfume instead and it wasn’t until it was far too late when said bullies even noticed it

3) The Arrow in the Head Gay is among them for playfully fooling around the Arrows but Joybuzzers and Gag Peanut Brittle cans are their go to options

4) Chris - I say the Mantle of Nightwing might go to probably a future child of Jake and Meredith (semi canonically Jake and his wife had son they named after Dick Grayson) with Chris appropriately teaching the newer Nightwing the tricks and tools of the mantle

Jake - The mantle he made can fall to probably a fan of the original Skybird who looked up to Jake as their hero for that longest time and only steps into the matte fully at a time of emergency but Jake sees pony’s tail in the kid and offers to train them. Basically a combination of sorts of Tim(my) Drake and Terry McGinnis in that regard

5) Well if there was a chance to adapt Chris, Mar’i and Jake in to the Prime Earth continuity, I’d basically do it all akin to the way Jon was eventually incorporated via a run in with an all powerful force and antagonist that screws around with the timelines and memories of Clark, Lois, Dick and Kory but the presence of these heroes allows them to remember them and with their strong respective love for one another (Lois with Clark and Dick with Kory) plus extending the full timeline so that the elder heroes of it are allowed to age (mainly Bruce and Dick if anything), lo and behold the Grayson kids and Christopher Kent can be incorporated into the DCU proper and all the effects of their presence throughout can be felt.

Now of course that’s if they’re allow to be incorporated cause otherwise, I’d still stick them happily in my Earth-4080. For one thing, my version of the DCU at least doesn’t have Cry for Justice and Heroes in Crisis happen at all so that’s a bonus lol

[lycanlovingvampyre]

S5 Trailer Relisten

Unpopular opinion: MAG 161 hits better without the trailer. Hear me out! I said last episode I thought Jon had lost it now. He sounds so hysterical, maniacal and devastated at the end of MAG 160. Hearing the trailer tells us that the two are somewhat, as far as you can be given the situation, okay in the cabin. That Jon is depressed, totally understandable, but has not lost himself completely. That kind of takes that fear of "OMG, what happened to Jon" away. And since MAG 161 doesn't start with the cabin, but with that fucking birthday tape, that fear only gets worse! Don't get me wrong, I like the S5 trailer. I just think it's better to listen to it after MAG 161 for the surprise effect and I always recommend this order of listening to friends I managed bullying into TMA.

MARTIN: (knocking) "Knock, knock!" JON: "Who’s there?" MARTIN: "Just me." JON: "Just me who." MARTIN: "What?" JON: "Nevermind." Ah yes. Martin Kdon’t-think-I’ve-ever-heard-him-tell-a-joke Blackwood... (Also I don't think a "Knock knock, who is it" helps Jon's overall condition...)

MARTIN: "How are you feeling today?" Oh, this is so cute, this "today" also tells us that Martin checks up on Jon regularly. This also could mean that Jon spends some time sitting alone in a room brooding and that he's been in various states. Probably a lot worse than what we hear in the trailer, and Jon doesn't sound so good in the trailer...

Jon not sounding good includes only thinking of bad stuff, doesn't think there's ever going to be a "better" and immediately dismisses Martin's comfort-tea. I mean... he has every reason to. It's the apocalypse, this isn't going to resolve itself and there might be no way at all to undo this (as far as he knows here) and why delude himself.

MARTIN: "Yes, I know, Jon; I’m not ignorant, I’m just – I’m just not ready for complete despair yet." JON: "Like me." MARTIN: "I didn’t say that." JON: "You didn’t have to." Ahh, this is so good... Both of them a hurting of course, but each one is dealing with it differently. And neither one is probably taking it so well how the other deals with it. When you're at a low like Jon people who try and try to see the good annoy you. And when you're still trying to salvage things like Martin and the other one dismisses everything it gets frustrating.

MARTIN: "You know I’m here for you." [JON INHALES, LONG AND DEEP, THEN EXHALES.] JON: "Yes." [CLOTHES RUSTLING. POSSIBLY A HUG, AT THE VERY LEAST DRAWING CLOSER TO MARTIN.] JON: "Yes I do." I'm so happy we get lots of fluffy and funny scenes with the boys because otherwise S5 would have been really hard to stomach... (Also that inhale!)

MARTIN: "You still… (sigh) Feeling it, seeing everything?" JON: "Yes. I, I’m trying not to, but – all the fear, the anguish, i-it just keeps coming at me in waves, rolling over me, filling my head with such awful sights." Ah man, that sounds like intrusive thoughts... Thanks I hate it!

MARTIN: "I’m sorry. That sounds… (small sigh) That sounds horrible." JON: "I wish it was, Martin. I really wish it was. But it feels… right." I talked about this in MAG 144. Our brain tricking us into believing things. Like our mind actually believes we're in mortal danger when having a sense of impending doom episode. And also this. Being in an exceptional state during which our mind thinks the horrible thoughts are right. (Of course, for Jon here it’s meant as something different, but that’s what I hear like a bit between the lines.)

Alright, season trailer so I'm gonna do my recap of story progression again, first copy-paste of S1-3 and then S4 lets go! MAG 1 bis 19: Start of September 2020 - July 2021 (11 months) MAG 20 - MAG 40: July 31st 2021 - August 19th 2021 (20 days) MAG 41 - MAG 80: August 19th 2021 - September 2nd 2021 (15 days) MAG 81 - MAG 120: September 2nd - September 20th 2021 (19 days - with 7 days intermission) MAG 121 - MAG 160: September 20th 2021 - October 1st 2021 (12 days)

And for anticipation of S5? I had no idea, I thought it was a pretty bad situation but I thought obviously there has to be something going on because there are 40 more episodes so they're somehow going to save the world!

@a-mag-a-day

[textingaboutprometheus]

Hey!

Happy to see you back. I've stepped a bit bit back from posting/asking which is definitely healthier ;)

Doesn't mean I'm not still looking at someone's IG, though...

He's still very busy there, following tons of people, liking - just not posting. Probably better as well.

So as for your guess that he and that guy might have met while he was with Jon: I don't think so. Because there is a pattern R has on IG (and since I'm excessively looking at it, I noticed): He newly follows guys and then (when he's interested?) likes 2-3 pics of them - but not new ones, sometimes really old ones from months back. Maybe not to draw attention from others? Who knows. But you can basically see that every day: He just followed someone (they are on the top of the list) and the likes are sometimes on really old fotos. So there is no reason to worry about the timeline. Also, R followed him later last year. So it's fine.

Do you think the guy deleted pics of R? Or were there never any? I noticed R deleted the restaurant pic (again).

I definitely think he deleted pics of R, yes. And I noticed R and I follow a lot of the same LGBTQ+ celebrities and influencers. We overlap on at least 11. It doesn't go unnoticed when he likes a post.

It's nice to be back while things are quiet. I half expected some reporting from R by now. I'm disappointed we got nothing. He's not following old patterns. But maybe he's in therapy and visiting his Mom and Dylan and playing videogames.

[graedari]

I’ll take “Time Travel JMart for 1000″ thank you

[Image ID: 

Image 1: A traditional pencil drawing of tumblr user @/graedari’s interpretation of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood from the podcast “The Magnus Archives” as they might appear in season 5 of the show as well as a second Martin who appears as he would’ve during season 1. Season 5 Jon and Martin are practically on top of one another; Jon leaning into Martin, cupping his cheek with his right hand as he places a kiss on his cheek. He is reaching over with his left hand in attempts to steal a mug of tea from Martin’s hand. Martin is staring down at him with a fond smile, holding the mug out of Jon’s hand. In his left hand he is holding up another mug out of Jon’s reach. A bit of text above Martin’s head reads his dialogue, “Not so fast, you fiend! This is for me- or well me from the past. You know how to brew your own!” Behind the two is Martin from season 1. He is looking very flustered, his glasses having fallen down quite a bit on his face. He adds, although the two are not listening, “Y’know- he can have it- I think I’m going to just go outside for a moment- and scream- A LOT”. ‘A lot’ is written in caps for emphasis. 

Image 2: A continuation of Image 1. This is just a simplified style drawing of Martin, his arms out-stretched. He doesn’t have much detail drawn on his face aside from a blush and his mouth open. A very large textbox over him is draw with jagged edges and reads in all caps, increasing in size, “AHHHHH”

Image 3: A traditional drawing of Jon from both S1 and S5. Both look equally upset, S5 Jon more-so put out while S1 looks generally angry. Jon from S5, has brought up his right hand to brush his glasses further up his face. He requests, “Please stop screaming you thoughts...” in a wobbly text bubble. Jon from S1 replies, “Stop reading them.” The text is underlined to emphasize his annoyance. S5 Jon replies in another wobbly text bubble, “It’s not as if I can turn it off...”

Image 4: A set of two drawings one above the other. Season 1 Martin is talking with Season 2 Jon. Martin is looking to Jon, a somewhat surprised expression on his face, as he holds a mug of tea between his hands. Jon is looking fondly down at the mug of tea he holds in front of himself. Jon remarks, “Thank you, Martin. You always make the best tea.” Martin stumbles in reply, “O-Oh- Of course.” The conversation continues below in a simplified style. Jon is looking up to Martin now, the mug raised to his lips as he drinks. Martin looks sheepishly down at him. Jon asks, “So, how are you taking everything?” Martin answers, “It’s certainly... Interesting...” 

Image 5: A set of two drawings, on top of the other. The top set of drawings is S1 and S5 Jon interacting. S5 Jon is looking at his younger self, a bored look on his face, his left arm coming to rest on his right. S1 Jon is looking at him with a very disgruntled look, his arms crossed defensively over his chest. S5 Jon offers, “Y’know you could save a lot of time by not straightening your hair-” They then continue a back and forth with S1 Jon replying, “It’s not profess-” “Professional, yeah- yeah- man I was a prat”. Which ends with S1 Jon remarking, “RUDE” in all caps. The second drawing below follows the conversation up. S5 Martin is standing behind S1 Jon, proudly presenting Jon’s whose hair is now ruffled and shown to be somewhat wavy. Martin is wearing a happy expression, gesturing with both his hands open. He excitedly remarks, “Fluffy hair!” While S1 stews, arms crossed and remarks, “If you were still my employee, I’d fire you.” Behind the two are S5 Jon and S1 reacting to the scene. S5 Jon is giving a thumbs up, a smile on his face while S1 Martin is looking with a somewhat embarrassed expression, a blush on his face. 

/End ID] 

[ricochetoconnell]

37 (Coming Out Fic) + 58 (Accidental Eavesdropping) (or, Jonathan finds out he has another brother-in-law :D)

This sort of got away from me, and most of it was written somewhere between 3 and 5 in the morning, so hopefully it makes some sort of sense. But I had a lot of fun with it, so thank you so much for the ask! 💜

Jonathan, freshly arrived back in Cairo after some time in England, pops by the family home to retrieve his keys. He has his own flat, purchased about a year ago to 'give the newlyweds some space' (to give himself space from the constant snogging), but he keeps his car parked at the house when he's out of town, and stashes his keys in the room he still keeps there.

The house is dark and quiet, and Evy should be at work at the museum at this time of day, so Jonathan is surprised when he passes by his sister's room and hears his brother-in-law say, "Hey." Jon pauses for a moment, thinking Rick had heard his footsteps, but the voice continues, "We should probably get out of bed soon."

Jonathan rolls his eyes and is about to continue on when Rick's next words stop him in his tracks. "Evy'll be home any minute."

He's confused, and then livid. His brother-in-law might be a bit of a brute, but Jon has never questioned the man's love for Evy. He hadn't even thought Rick capable of being a disloyal husband, but obviously he had been duped. So Jonathan stands there, ready to catch the cad red-handed with whatever floozie he had brought into the Carnahan family home, and the door opens-

And the very last person in the world he expects to see standing there is Ardeth Bay, but there he is. Jonathan almost laughs, starts to think it was all some ridiculous misunderstanding, but then he realizes that Ardeth is shirtless, standing there in all of his tattooed glory, looking exactly as shocked as Jonathan feels. And Rick is just over his shoulder, equally bare-chested, his face as white as a sheet.

Jonathan doesn't know how long they all stand there staring at each other, but it's Evy's voice, coming from the top of the stairs behind him, that finally says, "This isn't what it looks like."

They join him in the drawing room a little later, after the men have made themselves decent and Evy has brewed a pot of tea that no one touches. She rattles on about Ardeth visiting them after Hamunaptra, about Rick being some sort of secret Medjai, about how no one planned for this, it just sort of happened, and about how they love each other and they won't be made to feel ashamed of it. She's looking indignant in the way that means she's embarrassed but won't admit it, and Rick hasn't said a word, has just sat there looking sick, and Jonathan's not sure, but he thinks maybe Ardeth looks... amused?

When the shock wears off, Jonathan waves his hand and tells his sister that's enough detail, thank you very much, but he'll take this as a sign that they won't disapprove of him bringing a bloke 'round on occasion.

Evy looks confused, and then elated, and assures him that would be quite alright, and Rick looks sick with relief this time, and Ardeth is definitely amused. So with that sorted, and exhaustion from his trip settling in, and the rising need to escape before there's even more snogging than there had been previously, Jonathan says his goodbyes and sees himself out.

He's surprised by how well he takes it all, really. It's not every day your dear, sweet, baby sister announces she's taken up with two large soldier-types she met in the desert, but Evy has always been a free spirit (and if he thinks about it, she's never been all that sweet, either). Besides, she seems happy--and he might not want to dwell on it, but he can hardly blame the girl. After all, not much about their small family has ever been conventional, so what's the harm in adding one more misfit to their ranks?

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Hello!

I love all your work so much and I saw that you were going to be taking a break from your Bachelor universe so I wanted to throw some prompts your way to maybe help get some other creative juices flowing *waggles eyebrows*

1) switched at birth AU

2) Everyone already knows their dating AU

3) Law and Order (SVU AU)

4) you’ve got mail AU

Thank you anon, I'm glad you like my writing!

Now that I've finished my Bach fic, I've been at a bit of a loss what I want to do next. Maybe it's because I'm all out of new ideas, maybe it's because work has been absolutely hectic, but my creative brain is completely empty. So I figured, why not try to do one of these prompts?

Here's the thing: I have never seen SVU or You've Got Mail. And I'm pretty sure Switched at Birth is also a TV show I have never seen? When I saw "everyone already knows" my immediate thought was "oh! like in Friends!" but then I remembered I have absolutely read that fic somewhere?? Like someone already wrote that for Jonsa. (I tried to find it again but have had no luck.)

So I chose switched at birth as a concept - I'm not sure if you meant the TV show or not, but I just wrote whatever popped into my brain.

A warning: this turned out a bit more angsty than I intended, and isn't necessarily Jonsa? It is if you squint. A few other notes, Alayne is a completely separate person from Sansa, Lysa is not related to Catelyn, and Baelish never knew Catelyn either. Sorry if it's confusing and/or not at all what you were looking for!

.

.

Sansa feels as if the world has dropped out from beneath her.

They all sit in the drawing room of what she can only describe as a mansion (and she knows that next to her, Father is likely seething. This is the kind of money he aspires to, but will never be able to reach. He will never have a name. Father is a Baelish, he could never be a Stark.)

She stares at the family sitting opposite and her heart sticks in her throat at the sight of them – the mother, the three sons, they all have the same copper hair that she does and she swallows against the rising tears.

This is what she could have had, she thinks as she averts her eyes, but she only manages to catch sight of the family portrait above the mantel. A father, a mother, siblings. She could have had all of this, if not for the slip-up of an overworked, underpaid nurse sixteen years ago. She could have been Alayne Stark. Instead she is Sansa Baelish.

Switched at birth.

Alayne sits with her family (that should be Sansa's family), and she doesn't look as out of place as she should. Her dark hair matches Mr. Stark's – matches the other daughter, Arya. Alayne fits right in.

Sansa sits with Father (no, not her father; the man who raised her) on the opposite couch and wonders if her Mother (no, not her mother) had known, somehow. Is that why Mother had always been so cruel to her? Why she always seemed to hate Sansa for reasons she could never figure out? Perhaps Mother had known, somehow, that Sansa wasn't hers. Sansa remembers reading fairy stories of Changelings – how the mother would know, insist the child wasn't hers, how no one ever believed her. Is that why Mother threw herself off the roof all those years ago?

“Well this is fucking awkward,” the girl, Arya, mutters, and it breaks the silence as Mr. Stark sighs and presses a hand over his face and Mrs. Stark begins to scold her for her language and impropriety. Sansa watches Alayne laugh, and she feels more than ever like an intruder. She may share the Stark blood, but it seems as if Alayne and Arya are more alike than not. And by the way the brothers are trying to hide their own laughter, it seems Alayne fits in with all of them.

Perhaps it wasn't a mistake to switch them, Sansa thinks bitterly. Perhaps the Starks are better for having Alayne.

….

She is forced to get to know the Stark family, though she does not think she wants to. She doesn't want to look at their life and wish it could have been hers – wish that Ned Stark with his kind eyes and calm voice could have been her father. Wish that Catelyn Stark with her smiles and her freshly baked cookies could have been her mother. Wish that she could have been surrounded by siblings and dogs and even two strange psuedo-adopted-but-not-really brothers that she meets later on named Jon and Theon. The Stark household is chaotic and confusing and Sansa tells herself she would have hated growing up here.

….

She isn't surprised to find that she's not sad Father isn't her real father. In fact, there's a sort of joy inside her that when she turns eighteen, she can be free of him. He is still her legal guardian, the courts have decided, but she has less than two years before she is free and they aren't actually related and so she doesn't have to feel guilty about her dreams of leaving him.

It grows inside her as the weeks and months go by – a hatred she has never truly let herself feel before. She hates him, despises him. She always has.

Catelyn Stark is insistent on getting to know her because Sansa is her daughter, but Sansa can tell that Father has no real desire to get to know his own real daughter. He does not care about Alayne – no, what he cares about is ingratiating himself into the Stark family. She wonders if the Starks can see it like she can. She hopes not – she doesn't want them to think she's only coming to these weekly meetings for their money and their name.

In all honestly, she's not actually sure why she keeps coming to these meetings. All they do is remind her that the Starks will never truly be her family. All they do is highlight how much Father cares about social climbing. These meetings are painful and every week when she finally gets home and takes a shower and gets into her pajamas and climbs into bed, she sobs into her pillow for what could have been.

…

“You know the party's inside, right?”

Sansa startles out of her reverie and whirls around, heart pounding, to find Jon Snow standing behind her, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket.

It's Christmas and the snow is thick on the ground and she's shivering in the thin wrap that she came outside with, her coat in a closet where Mrs. Stark had taken it hours earlier.

“Are you allowed to be smoking?” she asks instead of answering and he laughs, pulling one out of the pack and placing it between his lips.

“I'm eighteen,” he shrugs, speaking around the cigarette dangling out of his mouth. His hands come up and he lights it, with one cupped around the end against the cold winter wind.

“I can't imagine Mrs. Stark approves of smoking,” she sniffs, then shakes her head no when Jon holds the pack out to her in offering. She watches his mouth twitch into a smile for a moment, like he knew she wouldn't take one, before putting the pack back in his coat pocket.

“Seems you don't approve, either.”

“Well, I am her daughter.” She says it and means it to be a joke, but the words come out soft and it wavers at the end.

Jon watches her for a moment, then unzips his coat and shrugs it off and holds it out to her and she stares at it blankly, her mind not processing the gesture. He shakes the coat, like he's insisting she take it and she finally does, slipping it on and then closing her eyes at the immediate warmth of it.

“I get it,” Jon says after a while, when he's halfway down to the filter, clouds of smoke drifting up into the night sky. “I mean, not exactly, I'm not sure there's anyone who can understand... you know-” he gestures at her. “But I get what's it's like - to be a Stark, but not. They practically raised me, but I'm not... I'll never actually be one of them.”

“I used to read fairytales,” she admits, turning her face from him because it's easier to talk into the dark, snow-covered landscape than him. “About secret princesses, and the king and queen were always so happy to have their daughter back. In the stories, there was never another princess who already took her place. Who fit in better.”

Alayne is a perfect Stark, she thinks. Over the months, she's seen it – how Alayne plays football and hockey with her brothers and sisters, makes jokes that Sansa would never. She's nothing like Sansa, who always preferred reading poetry to playing outside, with perfect manners and perfect posture. Cold and reserved. She wishes she were more like Alayne – more like a Stark.

She hears Jon sigh and take one last drag of the cigarette before he puts it out in the snow. “You're a lot like Cat, you know,” he says finally, and she feels something twist painfully in her chest. “And Bran. I mean, I don't know you that well, I guess, but...”

She shakes her head because he's wrong. She's nothing like any of the Starks (though she's not a Baelish, either). Jon sighs again, louder this time, with more annoyance.

“You are,” he insists, and she finally turns to face him again and opens her mouth to argue, but he gets there first. “You'd see it if you let yourself. If you actually tried. Cat's... Cat is trying so hard. You should see how she gets before you come over. Everyone is freaking out about it but you won't even try to get to know them. And I might not get how you feel, but Alayne? Have you even tried to talk to her?”

That painful twist in her chest tightens, it swoops down into her belly and up into her throat. “I am-”

“Like I said, I can't imagine how it feels, you know? And I'm sure it's a lot, and you're allowed to feel how you feel, but the Starks are... they want you here, I promise. But if you don't want to be, if you don't want them in your life, maybe this should all stop, cause it's hurting them and I think it's hurting you. Maybe we shouldn't be trying to force it if it's not what you want.”

Her mind is blank, she can't think of a single argument, though she wants to argue. She wants to say that Alayne hasn't tried talking to her, either. She wants to insist that she is trying, but... but she's not. Not really. She's holding herself at a distance, she's already decided she doesn't belong.

“What if they don't like me?” The words slip out of her, unbidden, her voice barely a whisper. It wavers in the dark. (Her deepest fear – that if she lets them get close to her, they'll decide she isn't worth it, that they don't want her.)

She's not sure what response she was expecting, but it's not for Jon to smile – he does, gives her a little half smile and raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I don't know you that well yet, but so far I like you just fine. And I'm not even a Stark.”

“You seem like a Stark,” she tells him, and watches something flicker across his face and she doesn't know him well enough yet to tell what it is.

“I'm not actually related,” he says, though she already knows this. “Not by blood or anything.” For a moment he brings his hand up to rub at the back of his neck and he suddenly won't look at her and she wonders if she said something wrong. “We should go back inside,” he seems to change the subject and she hesitates, but then he holds out his hand. After a moment, she takes it, and follows him back inside, out of the freezing night air and into the warmth of the house. In the distance, she can hear voices and laughter, she can smell the cinnamon and pine in the air.

She could get lost here, if she let herself.

“There you are,” Mrs. Stark looks up as they enter the kitchen, and Jon lets go of her hand. Mrs. Stark narrows her eyes at Jon, then looks at the back door, like she guesses what he was doing out there and doesn't approve.

“I'm uh...” Jon starts, looking between Mrs. Stark and her, “I should get back to the party.” Before he goes, he turns back to her and she remembers she's still in his coat and she hurriedly takes it off, feeling heat high up on her cheeks as she does. “Try,” he says, voice too low for Mrs. Stark to hear. Then he takes his coat and leaves the kitchen – leaves her in the kitchen. Alone. With Mrs. Stark.

“Are you having fun?” Mrs. Stark's voice is light, but there's something underneath, a hesitance.

“I am,” she says back, wondering if she should make some excuse and leave. Wondering if Mrs. Stark doesn't want to be here talking to her.

(Try.)

“I wanted to thank you for inviting me,” she blurts out, and Mrs. Stark looks at her sharply. “I had some of the pumpkin pie, it was really good.”

It's such a stupid, nonsense thing to say, but Mrs. Stark looks pleased.

“It's a family recipe,” Mrs. Stark says, and then – a bit of hesitation - “I could teach it to you, if you'd like.”

Sansa's breath catches in her throat and it takes her a moment to say, “I like baking.”

“So do I. I could never get Alayne or Arya into it.” Mrs. Stark says it with a fond smile and Sansa feels something break open inside of her and she realizes, she knows, that she wants this. She wants to know this family, she wants to be a part of it. She doesn't want to take Alayne's place, she never could, but she...

“You could teach me,” she whispers. “Sometime. I'd like that.”

“So would I,” Mrs St- her mother, says with a smile that lights up the room.

[davidmann95]

Did you see the interview Morrison did with CBR on Superman and The Authority? Any thoughts on it if so?

Anonymous asked: You see that interview with Morrison about S&tA? They’ve got me excited, confirms it’s basically a spiritual successor to their Action Comics run, an ending story for the Golden Age Superman the way All-Star was for the Silver Age. Very intrigued at how they’re doing this older, kind of pissed off Superman

Anonymous asked: Morrison talking mad shit about Injustice and the Snyder film plans made me happy. Just wanted to share even though you have much more positive feelings on both than I do lol.

Anonymous asked: Well Superman editorial continues to suck massively per Morrison. Almost comforting how even after the entire department gets purged, the people there would rather continue to do evil Superman than anything else.

Anonymous asked: Any thoughts on the new Morrison interview?

Anonymous asked: Have you read the CBR interview with Morrison on Superman and the Authority? Interested to hear your thoughts.

Plenty of thoughts.

* I suspected pretty much from the beginning that their choice to go with The Authority had to do with that crew representing for Morrison a bittersweet nostalgia for the turn-of-the-millenium promise of a more radical, just tomorrow (especially given that they repeatedly noted in interviews at the time they felt it had rightfully supplanted their own JLA, and with Millar and Quitely doing the second run on it), so it delving into that makes sense to me. I did not expect that to be in the form of Kennedy showing up (add New Frontier to the list of stuff this is implicitly drawing on, another comic asking 'has Superman sold out?'), but it makes me ten times more fascinated; I assume that was allowed in the first place because this was planned initially as part of 5G where Superman would have debuted in the 60s, and now because of the post-Death Metal 'it all counts' ethos.

* The DC perspective is an unsurprising downer (I imagine Morrison pitched The Authority angle as a commercial way of doing that they could actually work with), but it's notable that those initial plans were in 2018; I think signs point to the perspective of the higher-ups on Superman having shifted pretty dramatically in the last couple of years. Also holy crap they had a Morrison Superman mini in cold storage for four years, I don't know if it's abhorrent that this was kept for us or admirable that they waited for perfect timing. It's also kind of shocking that this wasn't written contemporaneously with Wonder Woman: Earth One Vol. 3/The Green Lantern Season Two/Detective #26, because it seems so much the conclusion of the capstone they represent.

* In a weird way, this is them doing an all-encompassing take on Superman ala their Batman they never have before. All-Star and Action are often flattened out into 'Silver Age' and 'Golden Age', but really it's them doing their interpretation of classic, iconic Superman vs. their idealized personal reinvention drawing from several eras. This is the one that goes 'no he lived through it all, what are the consequences of this and what does he regret'.

* "It's kind of a reflective age for Superman who looks back and wondered if it worked, all that gaudy presentation, fighting with Doomsday, having Crises? Were we all wrapped up in our superhero bullshit and not dealing with all the problems that we started out with and tried to [solve]?" This feels almost ripped from the page from Blackstars and it casts that story in a very new light knowing that they'd already been writing this at the time, as if the take on Superman in there was built to ultimately justify the changes in here.

* I guess I'm not strictly as harsh as most but to qualify my feelings on Injustice or the Snyder movies as "much more positive" than most I'm pretty sure they would've had to run over a beloved childhood pet. Yes, I read some Twitter responses, they were hilarious.

* Talking up Clark's alien perspective makes me wonder if that's part of why the books doubling down on "he's half-human and born on Earth, in a way even his dad can't be he's seen and lives as one of us" with Jon as the impetus for his own apparent progressive journey in Son of Kal-El. Curious what capacity Jon might be in this, since again, Morrison played with him a lot in Blackstars and this apparently sets stuff up for his book.

* Superman as the dad picking you up after you get really drunk for the entire planet is such a killer framing, and also makes me think of this, which they wrote around the same time:

* Love the described stuff with Midnighter and Apollo, wild that it's just now a full decade after their incorporation that Apollo's meeting Superman and Midnighter still hasn't met Batman.

* Are those preview pages the final colors? I suspect not but I'd be so down with it if they were and this book was going with a bold near-monochromatic take.

* Finally, realized this is the conceptual sequel to Multiversity: a pulp-age hero (who's apparently been around since then) dealing with the 'successor' heroes of tomorrow, the post-Millar post-9/11 breed, hoping to act as a brighter example but terrified he's become inexorably an instrument of the status quo and that maybe it's all just shit. Think there's a low but non-zero chance The Gentry might show up to go after Superman for breaking all the rules. It is also, god help us, their Doomsday Clock - can Superman redeem DC's metatextual perceived embodiment of realistic cynicism?

[janekfan]

Saw you were looking for some Jon Tim prompts so here's a few! :D 1) Tim decides to stalk Jon to show him what it feels like. Jon is satisfyingly frazzled; then a fear shows up. 2) Jon protects Tim from the Distortion Michael. Tim's confused. 3) Jon get lost in the tunnels. Perhaps Tim can hear him from the trap door and ends up pulling him out. They're both in bad shape and Martin is ticked. 4) Tim finds Jon after he gets stabbed by Michael. Happy Prompt Hunting!

I went with number 4! :D All are very good though

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28436451

Jon was being shifty again.

Not like that was anything new, and Tim had caught wind of a bread knife rumor?

But whatever. It was no concern of his and he’d rather go the day withouth seeing him if he could. Avoid the hot spike of poisonous anger that followed after every infuriating interaction and seeped, staining, into all other aspects of his life. Better to leave him be. Let Basira and Daisy and Melanie and Martin deal with him and leave Tim to work on his high scores.

So of course it would just be the two of them in the office today. Martin dropped off Jon’s tea like clockwork and strode bitterly out of the Archives without so much as glancing at Tim. He’d delivered his warnings earlier when he’d been assigned this field research and Tim would follow the instructions to leave him be to the letter.

“He’s exhausted, Tim.”

“Don’t care.”

“I. I know. What I’m trying to say is don’t make things worse.” Tim scoffed at that. Yes, he would be the ones making it all worse. Because it wasn’t worse already. Sasha wasn’t gone, they weren’t trapped here because of Jon who definitely hadn’t turned into some paranoid stalker armed with evil powers.

But yeah. He wouldn’t make things worse.

The makeshift pad of gauze and bandaging was soaked through with his own bright blood and staring at it brought a wash of dizziness over him and flooded his mouth with salt. Before he could faint dead away he reached for his dwindling supplies and prepared to change the dressing. If it didn’t stop this time, he’d have no choice but to ask for help.

If they’d spare any.

Jon hissed through his teeth when removing the compress served only to break the clot, pouring a hot runnel over his skin that caught and welled and spilled over the ladder of his ribs. Blacked at the edges, his vision tunneled, and nausea coiled sour in his stomach. It hurt. It hurt to breathe, to think, to move, deep, deep, deep and aching in the very core of him. Graceless and bumbling, Jon struggled to cover the surprisingly small incision and wrap himself tight enough to please, please stop bleeding. Holding himself close and careful, Jon staggered to his feet only to knock his hip hard against the desk as he went woozy.

He’d stood for something. Risked toppling over for something but the pounding of his pulse in his temples made everything that much harder and the room was spinning around and around and he nearly joined it, teetering a half turn before lurching to a stop, pressing his arm against his throbbing side.

It hurt.

One of them must have painkillers of some sort. Sash--

She. He.

How could he’d have forgotten? A bolt of fresh sorrow struck him so hard in the chest it stole his breath away with it and he sagged beneath its gravity, gripping the cool metal of the door handle painfully for support, looking down and seeing it as though it were the first time.

Where…? He needed something. Needed...because it hurt. He hurt and he needed help.

“Jesus, Jon!” Tim’s whole body flinched violently when he realized Jon was hovering near his desk like a wraith, sallow and with shadows like bruises lining the sharp planes of his face. “What?” His silence was petrol on the fire of Tim’s always simmering anger and it flared brightly, blinding, such that Jon staggered a step back, lifting a trembling hand only to drop it back to his side.

“T’Tim.” He swallowed with a click, and Tim watched his throat work, lashes fluttering like moth’s wings, brows knit together in effort and confusion.

“Out with it!”

“D’you‘ave pa, para…?” Even with his tripped up tongue, the compulsion found a way to thread through the question and Tim saw the fear fill up Jon’s glassy eyes when he realized a beat later what he’d done. Resisting was painful, the static filled up his ears, his head, his blood with its continuous hiss, rising higher and higher as he tried his damndest not to answer what really was a simple question. It wasn’t about that though. It wasn’t alright for Jon to take like that, to use whatever the hell this was to pull what he wanted to know from the inside of them without a thought. To hurt them just to Know.

In the end, he had no choice and coughed up his elucidation like a mouthful of razors, slamming his fist against his desk and using the leverage to stand and confront him.

“S’sorry. Din’t...” slurred and barely intelligible, the empty apologies only made Tim angrier and for one awful moment, he wanted to hit him. Give back just a fraction of the pain he’d caused all of them with his selfish ignorance. He wrestled it down with difficulty, clenched his teeth against the residual ache of Jon’s power.

“What’d you do to yourself?” Because the man looked hungover, sweaty and sick, paler by the minute and he wouldn’t blame him for crawling into a bottle. Might even be inclined to join him if he ever extended an offer.

“H’hur’s.” Jon’s overture broke open in a sob, his clawing, grasping fingers twisted in his dark jumper over his stomach and it looked as though he was considering lurching for the bin.

“Are you pisse--whoa!” Instead, Jon stumbled into him and reflexively, Tim shoved him away, like he was something disgusting, watching him trip over clumsy feet and land hard on his side in a sprawl of uncoordinated limbs. Tim yanked him up roughly, ignoring the sharp intake of breath, and tugged him back to his office by a bony elbow, muttering unkindly, “just sober up or whatever.”

The door slammed behind Jon and reverberated into his aching bones. He’d forgotten what he needed and the pain was so bad now it had removed any remaining will he had to stay awake. After Tim pushed him and he hit the ground, (clumsy, stupid, can’t even walk on your own) it was like being stabbed by Michael all over again; a burst of bright white twisting, turning, contorting agony that wasn’t easing so much as it was spreading all the way to the tips of his fingers.

Maybe if he sat down, got off his feet, he’d not feel so ill. Yes...yes that would be good. It would be nice to rest for a moment, just close his burning eyes, just for a little while. Then he could get back to work, finish up those statements he was working on. He was working on statements? When he went to step forward a sharp pain rocked through him hard enough that he had to brace himself on the unforgiving hard wood of the desk.

What--

Suddenly weak in the knees, Jon all but collapsed into his chair, curling into himself, every harsh and hollow gasp of breath like the bite of a knife.

Half five and Jon still hadn't emerged a second time from his office. Tim was the only one left besides him and despite how adamantly he refused to care he does not want to draw Martin’s temper. This had nothing to do with his own concern and armed with the distance that afforded him, Tim knocked loudly, obnoxiously, rudely.

There was no response.

“Oi, Jon!” Shouldering open the door, he’s got a rant on the tip of his tongue and is looking forward to using it. “Drunk at work, whatever will Marto say? The scandal…” With no reaction forthcoming, no moaning or groaning or yelling Tim took a second to actually look at him, lying collapsed over his desk, cheek pillowed on one folded arm. He’s passed clean out, and Tim touched his forehead only to find it cold and clammy. Something was far from alright if Jon’s rapid, shallow breathing and nearly grey lips were anything to go by. “Boss?” He was slack and loose when Tim shook him none too gently, mouth falling open with an almost inaudible whine. Alarm bells were ringing, red flags cropping up the longer stayed in here with him and the weighty feeling of being watched made him shiver. Very suddenly he wanted out of there but when he pulled Jon upright his eyelids barely shifted and what little color remained drained from his face so quickly Tim barely got the bin in place for him to lose what little he had in his stomach, no more than a little tea really. If the moisture hadn’t glinted in the low light coming in from the other room, Tim wouldn’t have noticed the dark wet blotch blending with the fibers of Jon’s jumper or the red and rust staining his trousers halfway down his thigh.

“Jon!” He wasn’t awake, not really, body reacting with wretched whimpers and the sluggish shifting of his arms when Tim eased him out of the chair and onto the ground. “Shit. Shit!” 999. 999 and following their explicit instructions; elevate his legs, keep him warm, don’t let him aspirate on his own sick. He lifted the sopping and soaked fabric of his borrowed clothing and his hand flew to cover his mouth when he saw the damage and he thought back to Jon’s plea for paracetamol, the apparently accidental compulsion.

“H’hur’s.”

His whole flank was black with the blood pooled beneath his skin and smeared with crimson above and when Tim applied his own crumpled up button down over top of the drenched bundle of gauze Jon cried out, writhing weakly under his punishing hands, eyes rolling wildly under bruised lids.

God. What was the point of being angry with Jon for not being honest, for not reaching out, if this is what happened when he did? If Tim was going to be rough with him, accuse him of being soused when really--

When really he was bleeding to death behind the closed door Tim put him behind so he didn’t have to look at him.

“T…”

“Hey, hey buddy.

“Hur’hurting me…” Slicked with weals of blood, Jon’s thin fingers slipped against Tim’s wrists, no strength to shift him, to stop what was happening, to stop him from hurting him like everybody else had hurt him, even though he was trying to save him. Jon didn’t understand, couldn’t, and he sobbed helplessly, keening cry lancing through Tim like the sharpest spear as yet again he was at the mercy of someone with more power. Catching up his hands, holding both in just one of his own, the hot blood was a painful contrast with Jon’s icy skin.

“Hush, I’m sorry, you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay. I’ve got you, Jon.”

“Nngh…ah!” Tim lifted his hands to his chest, cradled them there in all their scarred roughness and fragility, deadweight and limp.

“Soon now, just stay awake, bud. Stay with me.”

“T’T…” rapid breaths choked him off, left him gasping, fingers spasming in his hold.

Pulled gently away by unfamiliar hands.

Strangers’ voices muffled in his ears.

Jon’s half-lidded dull brown eyes filled with sharp fear.

All so slow Tim wasn’t sure any of it was happening at all until suddenly, a dawning of crystal clarity. Numbers and instructions and bodies, shouting, changing, moving.

Jon begging them to stop, stop--

“Stop hurting him!”

A firm grip pulled him to the side, forced him to look away from the red, red, red rising like a tide in his eyes until he couldn’t see anything else.

“We’re going to help him, but you need to let us.”

“...Y’yeah…”

“Are you coming?”

“Hm?”

“Sir?” Tim took in the sight of Jon’s blood still wet on the tile, the papers and folders in disarray and stained with drops like poppy petals plotting a course of ache and agony he didn’t want to travel.

And then Jon. Strapped down, held in place, fluids being forced into his collapsing veins. Face grey and lined with pain and streaked with red and--

“N’no. No.” The paramedics were already hurrying away. “I’ll. Someone will be there.”

It didn’t deserve to be him.

“Martin.”

“Tim, I swear to god--”

“Martin.”

“--get a hold of yourself for pity’s sake--”

“Martin!”

“What?!” An irritated huff passed over the line. “If this is just--”

“Jon’s in hospital, i’in surgery.” Stony silence run through with the vaguest hum of static fell between them.

“Tim--”

“I. I. I don’t think it was a bread knife.” Tim’s fingers were clenched around his phone so hard he thought it might crack as he kneeled beside the stain Jon left behind. Say nothing of Martin’s implication that this was his fault. That he’d done this to Jon.

But hadn’t he driven him to it?

Hadn’t he driven Jon to keep his pain and terror and sadness and secrets to himself when he turned on him? When he blamed him? When he came to him today, tried to reach for him, to reach for help, and was again denied?

“Tim!”

“M--”

“Where?”

“Wh’happen’...?”

“Jon?” This wasn’t the first time he’d been awake but it was the first time he’d done more than weep with confusion. Perfectly normal, Martin had been assured, between the anesthesia, the medication for pain, the massive internal hemorrhage they’d had to go in and repair, somehow saving his spleen of all things.

“Mmartin?” The effort to speak was dragging him back out to sea with exhaustion, heavy lashes struggling to part under the weight of it and only offering glimpses of glassy brown.

“Shh, go back to sleep.” Gently, Martin brushed back through his curls taking note of the too-cool temperature of his skin and the ink-dark bruises like kohl under his eyes. “It’s alright, I’m right here.”

“I, I…” Somewhere between his protest and a damp sob, Jon dropped off the edge of the precipice and Martin thumbed away the tears lining his cheeks before taking up his hand to resume his attempts at rubbing the warmth back into it.

“You should go home.” Tim was quieter than he’d ever heard him before, still likely cowed from their earlier conversation where the only thing Martin could look at was the copper embedded under his fingernails, smeared across his wrists and gone dark with oxidation. “He’s in good hands.”

“And how would you know that, Tim?” Bitter. Frustrated. Angry. Jon should have been in good hands before. Trusted hands. Hands that may well be spiteful, resentful, but hands that wouldn’t let Jon slip through the cracks regardless.

“I just meant.” Martin wasn’t able to look at him, afraid of what he might say next, afraid that he might physically throw the other man from the room for daring to deny Jon the slightest support.

“Last time I left you with him, he ended up here.”

“That’s--” Voice raised, shouting, and even down deep Jon flinched, arms shifting in an attempt to protect his face. Martin was livid, settling Jon with a few whispered words before turning to confront Tim.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“I didn’t…” Tim was small, folding into himself and sharp at his corners, bristling and contrite.

“I’ll text you with an update if there is one.”

“I. I’m sorry, Martin.” But he neither needed nor wanted an apology. He wasn’t the one Tim wronged today.

A week later saw Martin helping Jon up the narrow steps to his flat, concerned by his pallor and the trembling in his limbs and when he finally dropped him onto the lumpy sofa, saw that he was sweating.

“I’ll make some tea.” He’d purchased a few essentials to go along with his prescriptions. It wouldn’t do if he made himself ill on an empty stomach. If he listened closely he could just hear Jon’s panting, making certain to bring water along with the mug and a few chocolate digestives to offset the loss of blood still exacerbating his fatigue.

“M’quite alright, Martin.” He had yet to sit up, still laying back among the cushions, one scarred forearm laid above his nose. “Don’have to coddle me.” Martin didn’t rise to his bait, instead ignoring him in favor of sitting beside where his greater weight tipped Jon gently into his side. He didn’t resist, instead embracing his vulnerability and sinking deeper into the warm wool of his jumper with a sullen hum.

“I’m not “coddling” you, Jon.” Steeped to his preferences, Martin pressed the tea into his hands, lingering to be certain he could hold it on his own before tucking a biscuit between his forefinger and the porcelain and then another when he polished it off, probably not thinking about it.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Barely audible over the rim of his mug, Jon kept his eyes downcast and Martin couldn’t see under his long lashes from the angle he was at. He’d asked a few times, understanding his disappointment was aimed at Tim and not at Jon, at least not this time. They’d discussed the incident and Martin got the sense that he wanted no part in a repeat performance though he’d explained his attempt at asking for help was the last time he was cognizant enough to think in a somewhat straight line. After that it was pain and cold and shadow and Tim crushing him into the floor and he didn’t understand.

“Yeah.” Martin sipped on his own tea, encouraged Jon to do the same, but he was a dog with a bone.

“Is he. Uh. Cross? With. With me?” He looked up, tired eyes wide and round. “I mean, more than, than the usual?”

“Jon.”

“I know! I.” Falling silent, Jon nibbled absentmindedly on the last biscuit and accepted the tablets to swallow with the dregs of his tea. He’d be out like a light soon with that painkiller and Martin tugged him up when he hissed through his teeth at the agony of trying to move and caught him when he listed on his feet. Rather than hovering, Martin decided instead to keep an ear out as he put away the groceries and filled a glass of water for his nightstand, meeting Jon back at the sofa where he held a stack of bedding topped with pillows.

“I know.” He swallowed, “you’re here out of, of obligation? Kindness? But. But I’ll be fine on my own--you don’t have to stay.” Martin shook his head, a sad smile spreading over his lips as he relieved Jon of his bundle, longing to pull him into an embrace and relieve him of the invisible burden he carried alone. Compromising, he settled for cupping a slim shoulder, not missing how he melted under the soft touch.

“I’m here because we’re friends, Jon.” Unexpected tears welled in his eyes, spilling over as his staid expression crumpled. “Oh, oh, Jon, come here. It’s alright.” Spent, Jon let his forehead collide with his chest, crying silently, and Martin abandoned the duvet in favor of folding him up. “It’s alright.”

“S’sorry...just.” But he couldn’t get any more words out and Martin ran a hand up and down his taut back, rubbing circles over the sharp blades of his shoulders.

“You don’t have to be.” In a few moments the energy began to ooze out of Jon’s bones, the meds kicking in full force and taking his strength with it. “Okay, time for bed.” With a bit of cautious manhandling, Martin was able to get him tucked in between the sheets, meeting eyes blinking slow like those of a cat. “Comfy?”

“Mmyeah…” slipping out on an exhale and it brought a grin back to Martin’s face to see him so relaxed and more than a little loopy. “Hey Martin?” Graceless, Jon’s clumsy fingers tangled with his. “Thank you.” Cross eyed with the effort of sincerely conveying his gratitude, he spoke earnestly, if marble-mouthed and Martin felt his own cheeks flush hot in the velvet dark. He allowed himself to tuck stray and greying flyaways behind Jon ear before sweeping a thumb over the bone of his cheek and watching him drift under. Martin slipped away, keeping the door open in case something happened, and made up his own bed, listening to Jon’s soft and sleepy sounds.

“Good night, Jon.”

[fearfulkittenwrites]

Baby, I’m jealous

Word Count: 1554

Notes: Hello, @pin-a-pin! I hope this fills your request for this years damijon gift exchange! I had fun writing this, and I hope you'll enjoy reading <3

Jon grinds his teeth. If they weren’t indestructible, they’d surely break due to the sheer strength of his jaw. He tries his best to stop it, because after all, if his teeth become crooked or grew out of place, there wouldn’t be braces in the world that would be able to set them straight, but he can’t help it. Something about that girl really gets to him. And the worst part was how Damian seems to defend her whenever she is brought up in conversation.

“I do not understand what is the issue with her, Jon.” Damian scoffs as they walk into class “She’s just another student. If you dislike her so much, just ignore her.” The boy places his backpack on the floor, taking his seat.

“I can’t.” Jon whines, sitting on Damian’s desk and ignoring the other’s scowl “She’s everywhere! Always doing something that gets on my nerves.” He glances back to the door, where she is talking and laughing with her friends “Look at her! Laughing like that, who does she think she is.” He mutters.

Damian looks at him as if he was an alien (which, granted, half of him was); partly disgusted, partly confused, completely weirded out by his friend's behaviour.

“You get along with everyone, Kent. Why can’t you get along with her?”

“B-Because...!” He moves his hands around, mouth open, trying to put the argument he definitely had into words “Look! She’s so... Ugh!” Damian rolls his eyes “Ugh. Whatever. You never get anything, anyways.” Jon slides out of his desk and makes his way to his place, a little upset with the previous exchange.

He sulks in his spot, watching as she takes her place next to Damian, all smiles and good mood. Jon rolls his eyes, angry. He was also all smiles and good mood, but the way she did it was insufferable and wrong. It annoys him.

The worst part is knowing that he hates her because she may someday have something he knows he can’t have; Damian’s heart. As class starts, he feels his gut sinking more and more, thinking of all the things she would get that he wouldn’t, of all the things he’d say to her and not him, all the soft touches and looks he’d give her instead of him.

He feels sick.

Of course Damian wouldn’t hate her. She’s pretty, polite and lovely. She talks to him and asks for pencils and he gives them with little hesitation. She’s obviously the one he wants. The one he’ll be calling ‘beloved’ with that posh and over-the-top accent of his. The one he’ll be coming home to after patrols. The one he’ll... Oh God. How could he face him now, after this realization had hit him so hard and suddenly? Jon lifts his hand.

“Yes, Jon?” The teacher asks.

“May I please go to the restroom, ma’am?” He asks. The teacher hesitates for a moment, but since it was Jon, ‘the good student’ Jon asking, she decides to let him go.

He rushes into one of the stalls, tears falling down his eyes as he locks himself in and cries into his hands.

Back in the classroom, Jon’s distress as he left didn’t go unnoticed. Damian ponders on what that could be, getting a little distracted from the lecture in front of him. He tries to piece together what made Superboy leave in such a hurry. Unless there was any kryptonite in the classroom he surely wasn’t physically sick, so his distress must have originated in an emotional issue.

Damian’s mind ran through the conversations they had today, starting from Jon complaining about his parents, to discreetly discussing their current mission, to Jon complementing his drawings, to him demanding that Jon properly cared for the tangled mane he called hair (it could be so beautiful if he just used a comb every now and then, so soft and fluffy), to... The girl he hates. Coincidentally, the same girl that sits next to him in class and looks at him with lovestruck eyes. And then something clicks inside of Damian, and he puts his hand up, no time to think of anything else, to worry about anything else.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Smith, I think I should check on my friend. He wasn’t feeling well this morning and might require some assistance.” Damian lies through his teeth with ease. He isn’t sure if this is a skill that would impress or disappoint his father.

“Okay Damian, go ahead.” She says.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Damian zooms out of the classroom, walking into the closest men’s restroom. It’s almost empty, only one of the stalls closed and locked. Little sniffles fill the bathroom. He clicks his tongue loudly.

“D-Damian?” Jon asks.

“You were wrong, Jon.” He says, walking towards the stall Jon was occupying.

“About what, Damian?” Jon sounds angry, which might have sounded intimidating in different circumstances, but right now he has a stuffy nose and it makes him sound so utterly adorable in Damian’s ears that the boy had to smile “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not really in the mood to take your teasings.”

“Open the door.”

There is a moment of silence, and Damian waits patiently for his reply. The door clicks open and Damian walks in.

“-tt-. Look at the mess you’ve made of yourself.” Damian starts, holding Jon’s chin and examining Jon’s tear stricken cheeks. He pulls out some toilet paper “And for what? Nothing.” He complains, wiping away the tears and rubbing the paper at Jon’s runny nose before tossing it in the trash bin.

“What? What are you talking about?” Jon asks, a little scared as he watches Damian pull one more piece of paper, patting away at his cheeks and eyes with surprisingly delicate hands. This was the most Damian had ever touched him ever since they met, if you don’t count the spars and fights. It was definitely the most gentle touch he had ever offered Jon.

“I do understand some things, sometimes.” Damian replies, still cleaning Jon’s face as best as he can “And I definitely understand you.”

“Damian, what are you-”

“Sh.” Damian shushes him “I’m not done. I can see why you don’t like her.” He smiles a little, not looking into Jon’s eyes “And... I’m glad you don’t like her. But you don’t have to hate her anymore.”

“What... What do you mean?”

“I thought I told you I wasn’t done.” Damian stops the movements on Jon’s face, and the other rolled his eyes. Damian resumes wiping the tears away from Jon’s face “You’re... I’m...” He takes a deep breath, getting the words in order before speaking up again “You’re Superboy. And I’m Robin.” He swipes Jon’s nose again, tossing away the paper and looking up at the other “But there is another Superboy. And there have been many Robins before me.”

“I don’t-”

“Shut it. I’m trying to make a point.” Jon keeps quiet and sustained eye contact, a little annoyed “So, if we’re not unique in that aspect, what sets us apart from our predecessors?” Jon opens his mouth “That was rhetorical, don’t answer.” Jon shuts his mouth “We have different fighting styles, and different weapons, and different lives. But at the end of the day, in my eyes, what truly makes us different from them is... Us.” Damian swallows, doing his best to keep his gaze fixated into the other’s sky blue eyes “Because... No matter how many Robins there may be... I’m the only Robin that’s yours.” Damian stops to take a deep breath, whispering the next words “And you’re the only Superboy that’s mine. So please, stop making such a mess out of your beautiful face over a girl that will never be able to meddle in what we have.”

Jon is stunned. How... where did this come from? Was all of the teasing, screaming, shouting, cursing, just a way to... flirt? For how long... how much time had he wasted?

“Damian, I...” His voice cracks “I don’t know what to say.”

“Am I wrong?” Damian lifted an eyebrow, in that confident, over analytical way he always did. Jon felt his heart skipping a beat.

“No.”

“Then don’t say anything.” Damian pulls the taller boy down by the collar of his shirt, kissing him. It doesn’t take long for Jon to realize what was happening and pull him closer by his waist, wanting this moment to last forever, needing to have Damian as close as possible before he woke up from what clearly was a dream. But then they pull away, and Damian doesn’t struggle away from his touch, doesn’t kick and scream at him, doesn’t disappear into a poof of black smoke.

Instead, Damian smiles and cups his cheek.

“I... God, this was...” Jon inhales sharply, unable to find words that could describe the way he felt.

“I know.” Damian answers simply, touching their foreheads together “I wished it didn’t happen in a bathroom, but I couldn’t risk it.” Jon chuckles at that.

“Did I do it right?” He asks softly, hands running up and down Damian’s sides.

“I think so.”

“Well, was it good?”

“Yes.”

“Can you elaborate?”

“It was... nice.”

“And?”

“Soft.”

“And?”

“Jon, for the love of God,” He grabs the taller boy’s cheeks “Just shut up and do it again.”

Hey! If you made it this far and you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging? It helps spread my fics and makes me super happy! Regardless, thank you for reading and happy holidays!

[celosiaa]

Another asthma!Jon prompt if you're interested? Jon always had asthma as a kid but he grew out of it so he doesn't even carry his inhaler anymore. Cut to early days of working at the institute, stress/dust starts getting to him and he has his first attack in over a decade. Panic and embarrassment ensues, he tries to hide it as long as possible but eventually has to ask one of the others to drive him home to get his inhaler, or to the hospital if it's really really bad. Cue caring friends!

woohooooo time for transcript style, baby!! This is the fastest I have ever written anything so we’ll see. Let me know what y’all think of the style.  Hope you enjoy! <3

[CLICK]

[A SOFT KNOCKING UPON AN OFFICE DOOR]

SASHA: Jon? You busy?

JON: (distantly) Hmm? Ah—

[FABRIC SHIFTS AND HE GIVES A SIGH, WHILE SASHA LETS OUT A SMALL LAUGH]

SASHA: Sore?

JON: A bit, yes.  Been sitting too long.  Just look at this mess—

[SOUND OF PAPERS BEING PASSED OVER]

SASHA: Wow.  I can’t—wait, does that say “vampires?”

JON: (irritably) Well, if you can read that illegible monstrosity, the statement’s yours.

SASHA: (smirking) Touchy. Did Martin not bring your tea yet?

JON: I’m not a child, Sasha. I do not need Martin to bring me tea.  In fact, I asked him to stop.  On several occasions.

SASHA: Yes, he said. You rather hurt his feelings, you know.

JON: (surprised) …I did?

SASHA: (obviously) Yes.

JON: (determinedly) Right. Good.

SASHA: (audible eyeroll) Sure.  

[SILENCE, AND SHE TAKES A DEEP INHALE BEFORE CONTINUING]

SASHA: Anyway, I was wondering if you could help me.

[FLIPPING THROUGH A FILE]

SASHA: I’ve been trying to follow up on this statement, but I just noticed that there might be a second part to it somewhere in the archive.  Any ideas on where I might find it?

[SOUND OF HANDING OVER THE FILE, JON FLIPPING THROUGH IT]

JON: Hmm.  I’m not sure there is really any order to where things have been…strewn about down there, but (sigh) I am happy to help you look.

[SOUND OF A CHAIR BEING PUSHED BACK FROM THE DESK]

SASHA: (surprised) Oh! Right.  Cheers, Jon.

JON: (softly) It’s no trouble.

[SOUND OF TWO PAIRS OF FOOTSTEPS, ONE SET WITH HIGH HEELS CLICKING ON THE FLOOR, THE OTHER ACCENTED BY THE TAP OF A CANE WITH EVERY OTHER STEP]

[SOUND OF A HEAVY DOOR OPENING]

SASHA: After you.

JON: Right.

[HE SNIFFS]

JON: (Dryly) Nice and dusty down here, as usual.

SASHA: ‘Course. Wouldn’t be an archive without it!

JON: (muttering, insecure) I suppose I wouldn’t know.

[CLICK OFF]

[PAUSE]

[CLICK ON]

[SOUND OF AUDIBLE MOUTH-BREATHING, A BIT WHEEZING, AND PAPERS RUSTLING]

SASHA: (from a distance) Found anything yet?

JON: (voice rough) No, nothing yet.

[HE COUGHS TWICE IN RAPID SUCCESSION, THE SOUND MUFFLED BY FABRIC]

[A FEW SECONDS OF PAPERS BEING SORTED THROUGH, THE WHEEZING SOUND GETTING LOUDER]

[JON INHALES SHALLOWLY, COUGHING FOUR TIMES IN SUCCESSION, EACH LONG AND LABORED]

SASHA: Goodness.  You okay?

JON: (breathless) Fine—(shallow inhale) —fine.  Sorry.

SASHA: (muttering) You don’t sound it.

JON: (irritated) I’m fine.

[SILENCE, PAPERS RUSTLING]

[A BOX TIPS OVER AND LANDS HEAVILY, LID SCATTERING OFF ACROSS THE FLOOR]

[JON INHALES SHARPLY]

JON: (surprised) Oh—

[ANOTHER SHALLOW INHALE, AND HE’S COUGHING AGAIN, RAGGED, WHISTLING, AND WET]

[SOUND OF HURRIED FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING]

SASHA: (worriedly) Christ, Jon!  You alright?

JON: (panicky) As—asthma. Need to—

[HE BREAKS OFF FOR ANOTHER TERRIBLE-SOUNDING COUGHING FIT]

SASHA: What can I do?

JON: (breathless) Help me up.

[SOUND OF FABRIC AS JON IS ASSISTED TO HIS FEET, AND TWO SETS OF FOOTSTEPS EXIT THE ROOM]

[SOUND OF JON SLUMPING AGAINST THE WALL AND SLIDING DOWN TO SIT]

SASHA: (voice kept intentionally calm) Where’s your inhaler?

JON: (still breathless) Might not need it.  Better out here.

SASHA: (incredulous) I’m going to get it Jon.  Where is it?

[SILENCE REMAINS FOR A FEW MOMENTS, SHALLOW BREATHS STILL CONTINUING]

SASHA: (impatient) Where is it, Jon?

JON: (mutters inaudibly)

SASHA: What was that?

JON: (child caught stealing cookies from a jar) …it’s at home.

SASHA: (pitched higher in frustration) At home?

JON: Haven’t needed it in…a while.

SASHA: Unbelievable.

[SHE STANDS, STEPPING A BIT AWAY FROM JON]

SASHA: (shouting) Tim! Need your help!

[DISTANT SOUND OF TWO CHAIRS BEING PUSHED BACK, AND TWO SETS OF JOGGING FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING]

TIM: (worried) What’s wrong?

[MARTIN GASPS, STEPPING FORWARD TOWARD JON]

MARTIN: (very worried) God! What happened?  Are you hurt?

JON: (irritated, still breathless) I’m fine.  Good lord, just—just go back to work.

MARTIN: (ignoring him) Why are you breathing like that?  Are you ill?

[SOUND OF HAND BEING SLAPPED AWAY]

JON: (vitriolic) Don’t touch me.

MARTIN: (softly) …sorry.

SASHA: He’s got asthma, Martin.  He’s having an attack.

TIM: (intense) Where’s your inhaler?

SASHA: (furious) At home.

[TIM AND MARTIN SIGH IN UNISON. SOUND OF KEYS BEING PULLED FROM A POCKET]

TIM: (exasperated) Right. I’ll run and fetch it then.  Call an ambulance if he gets worse.

MARTIN: (determined) On it.

[SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS WALKING AWAY.  JON GIVES A HEAVY SIGH, TURNING INTO A PAINFUL-SOUNDING COUGHING FIT, WHICH HE STRUGGLES TO CONTROL]

MARTIN: Alright, just sit up straighter if you can.  It’ll help.

[JON CONTINUES TO COUGH HEAVILY FOR SEVERAL SECONDS]

SASHA: My hand is over the call button, Jon.

[COUGHING SUBSIDES, BACK TO HEAVY BREATHING]

JON: (breathless) M’fine. Getting better.

SASHA: (audible eyeroll) Right.  Course you are.

MARTIN: (gently) Just save your breath, Jon.  Tim’s a really fast runner.

JON: I know.

[CLICK OFF]

[PAUSE]

[CLICK ON]

TIM: (out of breath from running) Got it.  Here. You gonna make it?

MARTIN: Here, Jon. Can you hold it?

JON: (breathless, voice ragged) Course I—can.

[HE EXHALES AS MUCH BREATH AS POSSIBLE BEFORE PRESSING DOWN ON THE BUTTON, INHALING DEEPLY]

SASHA: Alright?

[JON TAKES A FEW MORE BREATHS, STILL SOMEWHAT SHALLOW.  HE EXHALES DEEPLY AGAIN, BEFORE TAKING ANOTHER DRAW FROM THE INHALER]

MARTIN: (sympathetic) Poor thing.

[TIM SNICKERS]

[SOUND OF HIS ARM BEING PUNCHED]

TIM: (quietly) Ouch.

JON: (voice stronger) I’m alright now.  Really.

MARTIN: You sure?  You can sit here as long as you need, I’ll bring you some water—oh, careful—

[SOUND OF JON RISING SLOWLY TO HIS FEET]

JON: I’ll get it myself.

SASHA: Here.

[SOUND OF CANE TAPPING ONCE ON THE FLOOR]

JON: (quietly) Thank you.

[TIM GASPS]

TIM: (grinning) Did you just thank us, Boss?  Is that what I just heard?  A thank you? For what, just saving your life?

JON: (irritated) Fine. Yes.  Thank you.

MARTIN: (nervous) You sure you’re—(gasp) woah woah woah—

[SOUND OF STAGGERING FOOTSTEPS, CANE CLATTERING TO THE FLOOR. TIM AND SASHA GASP]

MARTIN: (very worried) I’ve got you, I-I’ve got you.  Sit back down, here—

[FABRIC RUSTLES AS MARTIN SETTLES HIM BACK DOWN, BREATHING RAPIDLY]

MARTIN: (gently) Just sit quietly for a bit.  You’ll be alright.

SASHA: I’ll get you some water.  Stay put.

[FOOTSTEPS WALKING AWAY]

JON: (vague-sounding) I’m…I’m sorry.  I-I don’t—

TIM: (lowly) Just save it, Boss.  You’ll be back to your usual stubbornness in no time, I’m sure.

MARTIN: Just try and take some deep breaths.

[JON DOES AS HE’S ASKED, BREATHING TWICE A BIT SHAKILY IN THROUGH HIS NOSE, OUT THROUGH HIS MOUTH]

MARTIN: Good.  That’s good, Jon.

JON: (still shaky, whispering) …thank you.

MARTIN: (audibly beaming a sunny smile) It’s no trouble at all.

[CLICK]

[amltdaily]

When A Million Little Things‘ Gary takes matters into his own hands, he really takes matters into his own hands.

We’re referring, of course, to the final moments of the ABC drama’s Season 3 finale, which found Gary drawing Sophie’s lecherous music teacher Peter out onto his front porch, throwing a bag over his head and then bodily moving him back into the house, slamming the door behind them.

The move, coming from the generally affable actuary, was a shocking way to end Season 3 — though series creator DJ Nash tells TVLine that he’s threaded hints through the previous seasons.

“We’ve seen bits of it throughout the series, whether it’s him smashing the painting with Jon or him punching the car and having that guy pull a gun on him,” the executive producer says. “It probably goes back to the anger he feels about his mom leaving him. He definitely wants the world to be just, and it’s not, and I think he tries to line up justice wherever it’s askew.”

When he can’t — such as when Sophie’s complaint of sexual harassment isn’t enough for the police to arrest Peter — “it’s really hard for [Gary] to accept that,” Nash adds.

Elsewhere in the two-hour season-ender:

* Darcy decided to move to Lenox, Mass., so Liam could be close to his dad. After much deliberation, Gary decided to move with her. But when he mentioned that he thought their future involved having a child together, Darcy made it clear that she did not want that. Later, though, she had a change of heart and called Gary, leaving him a voicemail saying that she thought he would make a great dad and maybe they could discuss the possibility. But he was busy when the call came. (See above.)

* Delilah returned from France in time to accompany Sophie to the police station, where she told a detective about what Peter had done to her. She also handed over Layla’s diary as evidence. But the detective sadly told her that it wasn’t enough to arrest Peter, though he thanked her for giving them something with which to start a file on him. Gary got really mad and kicked a garbage can across the room.

* Soon after, Delilah told Eddie that she wanted to move back to France with the kids. Danny and Sophie balked at the news, and Gary lit into Delilah. “I’m so sorry you’re not happy, but you know what? I’m not sure you’re entitled to be,” he said. (And that wasn’t even the meanest part!) The interaction left Delilah sobbing.

* Regina made the tough decision to close Someday, which had been failing in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic and her concussion. Meanwhile, Rome comforted Tyrell after the teen learned that his mother’s deportation stemmed from getting pulled over by police while driving to FedEx his application for a summer program.

* Theo burned his hand on Katherine’s watch; Eddie’s lawyer told him to get photos of the injury so they could use it against Katherine in the custody battle. So Eddie did, but he felt bad about it and later told Katherine that he wouldn’t use the photos against her. Instead, he drew up an agreement for joint custody, in which he can be with Theo without supervision and in which he will take a weekly drug test. If he fails, she gets full custody. “I promise, I will not fail Theo,” he said.

* But that wasn’t all Eddie was up to. He answered a call from a blocked number, thinking it was a telemarketer, but the woman on the other end was crying. “I’m the person who hit you,” she said, apologizing.

* Gary visited his father, who tacitly agreed to give him an alibi for the evening. Then Gary went off and did the bad thing.

Read on as Nash breaks down the packed episode: Eddie’s call, Gary’s premeditated act, the possibility of new romance in Season 4 and more.

TVLINE | I was shocked when we saw what Gary did in that final scene. How in control of himself would you say he is there? Well, he goes to his dad’s and sets up an alibi, so this wasn’t… It appears as though whatever he does behind that door is premeditated.

TVLINE | I want Peter to undergo slow and painful torture, but still, I don’t want Gary to do it. I remember the idea for the last scene came to me much earlier in our season… Elizabeth [Laime], one of our writers, has been very forthcoming about sharing her story, and it led to a beautiful heartbreaking story about Sophie… I had this idea for this scene, and I knew just this one scene could actually be tacked on a bunch of episodes, because it does sort of stand alone. The way we’ve done it with the podcast, it became a piece where Sophie’s commenting on other casualties and the other people who are hurt by what Peter did. But we shot that scene before.

When I got the idea for the scene… I called Elizabeth to go, “Hey, I just want to make sure you’re OK with this story,” and she goes, “I love it.” Because part of what our show is is a bunch of writers talking about their pain and maybe writing different endings, you know? You write the version of your parents’ divorce you wish had happened, or you write the version of losing a friend to suicide. I mean, they all come from very personal places. So, then I talked to James [Roday Rodriguez], he said to me, “What happens on the other side of that door?” … And then he said, “OK. Love it. Where do we find moments of that leading up to it?” He and I talked pretty extensively, because I wanted him to play some subtle moments. Whether it’s something a little more overt like kicking the trash can in a police station, [and] there are other moments that when we get to next season, you’ll realize, oh, did they know here? And those are moments that he and I and the directors found to place.

TVLINE | I was — I’m not suggesting for a second in any way that what Gary went over to do is something people should do. [Laughs]

TVLINE | I will make sure that we leave that part in. So can we talk about the call Eddie gets at the end of the episode? What I love about this show is there’s enough plates spinning that… we can get you to forget about one essential plate, and then we can come back to it. It had been enough time now where people had figured, “Oh, maybe it’s not playing out.” Also, [I had to] decide how much of that call to put in the finale. That call goes on.

TVLINE | With Katherine and Eddie breaking up, you now have two more players that can mix it up with others. Yeah.

TVLINE | And I know you’ve said that Gary and Delilah are not going to be a thing. They will never be a thing!

TVLINE | You’re going to get into season 10 and you’re going to be like, “Remember when I told you they were never going to be a thing? About that…” [Laughs] When that story happens, you’ll be like, ‘Oh, you must not be on the show anymore.”

TVLINE | What I’m getting at is that it feels like we might see a bunch of new faces next season. Is that at all on your radar? Yes. There will be people in their lives, and I’m happy to tip that we’re going to see Katherine — Carter set up a dating profile. Is something happening there? And we’re seeing Eddie, who is single for the first time in a long time, and single for the first time ever in a wheelchair, and we’ll see how he gets the confidence and the courage to go out there again.

TVLINE | Poor Regina with her concussion and her restaurant going south. Tell me there’s some brightness coming her and Rome’s way. Well, I actually think there already is. I think there already is… If you look at where Regina ended last season — with thinking that she had this baby, and this mom changing her mind, and her being devastated — where she ends the next season is with her baby consoling her. So I don’t think that’s sad at all. But she does have to figure out what her next chapter of her life’s going to be, and it’s not going to be easy.

[trashcreatyre]

I'm gonna explain one of my TMA playlists bc I've been wanting to do that for several months, and how else am I supposed to procrastinate my animatic project at one in the morning?

(here's the link to the playlist bc I think its pretty slappin')

General:

Body Terror Song By AJJ-

I know that it could technically be a flesh song, but I feel like its a bit more vague than that? if that makes sense?

The Afternoon By Lemon Demon-

there's gonna be a lot of Lemon Demon songs in this lol- This one is also pretty vague, but for some reason it kinda reminds me of Michael specifically? I don't 100% know how to describe it.

thrifted youth By dalynn-

Most of the descriptions/reasonings in the general section are pretty simplistic and vague huh? I guess it just kinda fits the vibe? I might be saying that for a lot of the general ones-

Aurora Borealis By Lemon Demon-

this one reminds me of the season five, kinda feels like a jmart song. (also you'll probably notice that there's not much in the ship theme in this playlist. I like to keep my ship playlists separate from my more general ones, don't know why.)

Under My Skin By Jukebox The Ghost-

just kinda fits the vibe y'know? other than that I don't really know.

Turn the Lights Off By Tally Hall-

i can't actually remember why I put this one specifically- that's a bit unfortunate-

When He Died By Lemon Demon-

This one mostly just fits the vibe, makes me think about the really old Victorian era statements.

Ancient Aliens By Lemon Demon-

again, fits the vibe.

She Doesn't Sleep By Anthony Amorim-

Feels like a random statement tbh. also reminds me of Not!Sasha too.

Nightmare Fuel By Lemon Demon-

funky song- fits the vibe- I don't know what more I can say-

Everybody Loves Me by OneRepublic-

I don't remember actually???? I think It was an Elias one??? but thinking about it now that doesn't really make much sense???? I'm gonna keep it tho, fits the vibe, at least it does to me.

Bloody Nose By Jack Conte-

fits the vibe :)

Christmas Kids By Roar-

I think I saw an animatic to this one time? now I can only think of the season one archival staff,,,, my beloveds,,,,

La nuit en matin By OH MU-

imma be honest, I have no idea what this one's actually about, but It lowkey reminds me of the intro music during end of season three- y'know, the clown vibes :D

9 to 5 By Dolly Parton-

Archival staff moment

American Healthcare By Penelope Scott-

I guess it could technically be seen as an End themed one? but I put it on bc I felt like it fit the vibes (are you getting sick of reading vibes? i'm getting sick of typing it)

Butch 4 Butch By Rio Romeo-

mostly just the rat filled piano line,,,,,, and also it fits the vibes to me.

Oblivion By Grimes-

Kinda feels like a statement?? In a way?

Murders By Miracle Musical-

the vibes. hopefully thats the last time i type that for this-

oh yeah woo yeah, we're onto the specific Entities now B) lets start with the one that probably has the most, if not, it sure feels like it-

The Spiral:

Spiral Eyes By Rewenge-

yeahhhh,,,, I know it doesn't really fit the vibes all that well, But the title fits and I like it so-

The Distortionist By Ghost and Pals-

this one is SUPER obvious, but it fits REALLY well in my mind.

Out of Her Head (Outerlude) [From The Film Possibly in Michigan] By Korban Baxter-

I can literally picture this one- I lowkey wanna do an animatic of this one one day.

A Crow's Trial By Vane Lily-

OKAY- so this last one is because it's the song from an absolutely GORGEOUS animation/animatic by Akidachi on YouTube, I ADORE this animation. please watch it omg-

again, I'm like, 90% sure that The Spiral has the most songs on this playlist, definitely not a bias or anything. next up is the mf uhhhh-

The Corruption:

Spiral of Ants By Lemon Demon-

no explanation needed.

Maggot By Slutever-

Mostly just the name, but it's a good song too so-

Sick On Seventh Street By Sarah and the Safe Word-

fits the vibe title and actual song wise.

in retrospect under my skin probably could be here-

The Web:

Redesign Your Logo (Bonus Track) By Lemon Demon-

Feels like a very web song,,,

Boris The Spider By The Who-

Spider,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Spider Dance By Toby Fox-

Yes,,, like from undertale,,,,,,,

i think thats it for the web (i swore there were more,,,,)

The Lonely:

Nobody By Mitski-

C'mon, you didn't think I WOULDN'T put this one on, did you?

This December By Ricky Montgomery-

idk what it is exactly about this one, just,,,, feels correct?

Blue Jay Way By The Beatles-

MANNNNNNN- i love this song, my mom hates it- that's unrelated- but I always just feel like there's fog or like, an eerie sea, or something- while listening to it. it feels very lonely-

I'm a Member of the Midnight Crew (1909) By Eddie Morton-

I have no idea why spotify suggested this song to me, but I will never not find it funny. Anyway- reminds me of the crew on Peter's ship :)

The Stranger:

Rattlesnake By Kabaret Sybarit-

Idk, feels like smth Nikola would sing at jon- idk how else to explain it-

A Mask of My Own Face By Lemon Demon-

pretty self explanatory lolll

The Slaughter:

War Pigs By Black Sabbath-

war.

The Hunt:

The Hunter By Slaves-

maybe this one is because it's because it's litterally called the hunter, and that they say hunter a bunch, but it is fun to listen to-

Teeth By 8 Graves-

I cannot remember my reasoning at this current moment-

The Flesh:

Body By Mother Mother-

the lyrics do be fittin doe

The Dark:

Everything Goes Dark By The Hoosiers-

i mean- everything goes dark- what more do you want me to say-

Dr.Sunshine Is Dead By Will Wood and the Tapeworms-

i think its mostly the song's vibe and the title.

The End:

The Trick to life By The Hoosiers-

the trick to life is not to get too attached to it.

Memento Mori: the most important thing in the world By Will Wood-

remember death.

YOOO OKAY NOW WE'RE ON THE ONES THAT I HAVE ACTUAL THINGS TO SAY ABOUT NOW- at least for the most part-

Characters:

i think i'm gonna go from least to most for this- (spoilers, Jon has the most ones because I care him)

Cryptid Hunt- Demo By Averno, Sushi Soucy-

this one makes me think of the WTGFs,,,,,

You're at the Party (Bonus Track) By Lemon Demon-

makes me think about Micheal Shelley,,,,,,,

Saint Bernard By Lincoln-

Alice "daisy" Toner moment-

Mary By The Happy Fits-

mary keay,,,,,,

there used to be a gerry one too, but the more I heard it in the context of the playlist and him, It just didn't fit,,,,,

Ew it's Elias/jonah time-

The Fine Print By The Stupendium-

capitalism- jk- kinda- Idk, just feels like it fits because he really just kinda,,, doesn't care about his employees-

How Bad Can I Be? from the lorax-

I had to-

Boss 3 from the terraria soundtrack-

Listen- I don't know why- but- it has elias/jonah vibes- the vibes are fowl, but the song is good.

Ruler of Everything By Tally Hill-

Panopticon/eyepocolypes time-

Ayooo it's jon time- I really hope I can write out my thoughts in a way that makes any kind of sense- /foreshadowing

A Sadness Runs Through Him By The Hoosiers-

Goddddd,,,,, he's just kinda filled with sadness and survivors guilt, just like, all the time huh?

Home By Cavetown-

the lyrics are just- very him- like- I just gjbdjgsflkjns-

Broken Crown By Mumford & Sons-

frick- the foreshadowing was accurate- the best I can describe it is that the lyrics just???? y'know??? hhh why am I like this sometimes-

Sweet HIbiscus Tea By Penelope Scott-

i'm willing to bet that he never wanted to be the main character-

Honey I'm Home By Ghost and Pals-

I saw a Jon centric animatic to this one time- I can't for the life of me remember who by, But everytime I hear the moth lines, my brain goes ":0" Because I remember there was a time when people kept drawing moth jon- I don't know where that came from but I thought it was very cool.

Who Are You, Really? By Mikky Ekko-

I'm like- actually starting to get frustrated with how poorly im articulating my thoughts right now- this just isn't funny anymore-

Sleep By My Chemical Romance-

I'm not actually sure why for this one- I just remeber putting on my black parade CD, hearing this, and being like, "damn, that do kinda be jon tho-"

I hope you enjoyed my ramblings- tbh, all this sounded and read out better in my head. My words might not make sense, but I do like how the playlist is. also im very tired, maybe this would've been written better if I wasn't struggling to keep my eyes open lol. I'm gonna fall asleep now- or maybe i'll post a spiral themed doodle dump again, who knows. I don't know.

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 13

Chapters: 13/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12]

If someone had asked Martin where he had least expected to be on the day after his thirtieth birthday, the veterinarian probably wouldn’t have been at the top of his list, but it definitely would have made the top ten.

Honestly, Martin didn’t think he had ever stepped foot into a vet clinic before in his life. He had never owned so much as a pet hamster, and now here he stood, clutching a tiny ball of mewling fluff and trying not to get distracted by the pet toys.

He felt positively inundated with new information on all sides. There were about a million different types of pet food lining the walls, and everything seemed to be a new bright colour to draw his distracted eyes. Warning signs that made very little sense to him filled the space, most memorably ‘Large birds must be kept leashed at all times inside the practice’, and ‘Reptiles need to be secured inside their travel enclosures.’

There was indeed an iguana in a massive glass enclosure sunning itself under a heat lamp, but it appeared to be a permanent resident, not a guest. Seemingly opposite to this was the massive tabby cat draped across the reception desk.

Martin begins to panic slightly.

He desperately wished he had allowed one of his lovers to accompany him, but he had sent Gerry back to bed to sleep and Jon had been shooed off to work, both quite thoroughly hung-over.

Now here he stands, alone with his new fluffy friend, and doesn't even know where to start. Neither of his partners have ever actually had a kitten before, but at least they had both owned cats before.

Gerry had been adopted by Saturn as a full-grown boy when he arrived at the window of his shitty little flat in Edinburgh and demanded to be let in. Gerry had confessed to a romantic feeling of instant affection for the fluffy beast and had taken Saturn in without a moment’s hesitation. They had moved together as he traveled the country, eventually settling together in London, where he had found Jon again.

Jon had been raised with several cats that had all been born before him and had liked them, but he had told Martin once that he heavily associated cats with his Grandmother and his slightly cold upbringing. That was all the pet experience he had until he met Saturn and fell in love with him as easily as they’d both fallen in love with Gerry. Like goth, like feline companion, apparently.

Nevertheless, Saturn did not appreciate being taken to the vet and had never gone once since Martin had met him.

"Can I help you, sir?" A kind-looking older lady sat at reception, and she beaconed Martin forward gently.

"I- I-" He started, stuttering badly. He closed his eyes and shook himself to dispel the unfortunate remnant of his childhood. “I found this kitten, and I was hoping the vet could check on it for me?”

“And will you be wanting to surrender it into our care?” She asks, tapping away at her keyboard.

“What?” Martin shies away, pulling the cat protectively even closer to his chest.

“You’re more than welcome to keep it, but we do also take in strays if you aren’t able to.” She smiles at him soothingly.

“Oh, I want to keep her please.” Martin flushes a bit. “I already gave her a name.”

The woman smiles at him knowingly. “The vet can see you in 15 minutes then.”

She takes his contact information, and they weigh Martin’s new friend. She guesses the kitten's age to be about 2 weeks and sends him off to sit close to the iguana.

*

An hour later, Martin stumbles out the door, armed with more supplies than he could ever have imagined he needed to raise one small animal. His head is spinning, alternating between fond adoration and complete anxiety over this new task that he has given himself. Luna meows at him supportively, happy to be clean and have a full belly.

Out on the street, he finds Jon. It’s raining slightly, and he’s wrapped in a long peacoat, with a scarf Martin is certain was once his.

“What are you doing here?” Martin demands, shocked. He stumbles over to his partner, and Jon reaches out to steady him. “I thought you were at the library."

Jon presses a quick kiss to his shocked mouth, before taking several things out of his overcrowded arms.

"I know you said that you were going to do this on your own, but I wanted to be nearby in case you needed me, so I called off." He shrugs a bit, "I reckoned that I had earned it, what with all the overtime I work and don't get paid for."

Martin is filled with warmth, eyes welling a bit. "Oh, Jon."

"Oh no, don't cry. I'm sorry." Jon's face pinches in concern. "I can go if you want me to."

"No, I'm so happy you're here. I was just wishing for you, and there you were. Thank you." Martin steps towards him as best he can, and they kiss softly for a few moments, out in the rain.

In time, the kitten, haphazardly clutched to Martin's chest, makes her displeasure at the soggy conditions known. Gripping hands tightly, Jon and Martin set off towards the bookstore, just a couple blocks over.

It’s quiet when they arrive, the morning pre-work rush over, and the student and lunch crowds far off yet. The two baristas and Tim descend upon them immediately when they see the small head poking out of Martin’s coat. There is much cooing and fuss over Luna, and Martin recounts the tale of discovering her in the back alley of Gerry’s bar.

Once they return to work, Jon and Martin settle on one of the sofas, a coffee table before them. They make up a small cat bed, which Luna explores for a few moments, before sitting at the edge and staring at Martin imploringly. He scopes her up and plops her inside, before placing the tiny bed right in his lap. She happily passes out after that, the wild adventures of the morning catching up with her little kitten body.

Deciding to truly have the day off, Jon does not take out his laptop and start working on it, instead ordering their tea, picking a book to read from the store, and bringing it all over to settle with his partner.

“Thank you for coming,” Martin tells him, a soft look on his face. He leans an elbow on the back of the couch, head resting on his fist. “I didn’t even realise how much I needed you until I saw you there.”

“I know,” Jon starts, frowning in concentration, “that I’m not always the best at sensing these things, that sometimes I can be too focused on myself and the things going on in my head. I do hope that I always manage to catch the important moments, and I trust that you’ll always let me know when I don’t.”

Jon pauses, and sighs, a self-deprecating smile lining his face. He continues, “I want to learn to be who you need me to be. I want to be for you, what you always are to me. I love you, Martin.”

“I love you too, Jon.” Martin squeezes Jon’s hand, before placing a sweet kiss in his palm. “You are exactly who I need you to be.”

It is a soft, hazy sort of day. The rain pours outside, and Jon lies against Martin and reads two books before lunchtime. Martin practices bottle-feeding Luna, every few hours, and Jon sits nearby watching nervously. He wonders vaguely if his partner is alarmed to be around an infant of any kind for a while, but on the third feeding, Jon seems to rouse himself and offers to give it a try.

Each time a new client comes in, there's a round of cooing and petting, and Martin worries that she’ll be spoiled rotten in no time. He imagines that if she spends much time here, he’ll have to sell cat treats and Luna will one day be as fat as a house.

At one point, Jon starts to read aloud, and Martin seems to fall asleep gently propped against his shoulder. He wakes to find Jon laughing softly and Luna learning to use him as a climbing frame.

"I think she likes you, love," Martin whispers into his hair.

"Well, I think I might like her too," Jon confesses, a world away from his scepticism of just this morning.

After lunchtime, Gerry flies into the store very manically, clutching a very strange backpack to his chest. It has a weird clear window, reminiscent of a ship’s porthole, and the rest of it is hard structured plastic.

He ducks down to kiss first Martin, then Jon, before thrusting the backpack into Martin's hands.

"What is this?" Martin asks, holding it away from himself as if it might bite.

"It's a cat backpack. Saturn has always preferred it to a normal cat basket, and I thought it might be useful if we need to take her to work with us and then back to various flats." Gerry walks around the table, bodily picking up Jon's legs and sitting beneath them. He looks like nothing so much as a large, damp bat, black trench coat flapping around him like over large wings. "I ordered her one of her own, but it won't be here for a few days, so I brought Saturn's in the meantime."

There's a beat of shocked silence, so Gerry adds, "Only if you want it, obviously."

"I- I do, thank you." Martin can feel himself blushing with odd pleasure.

He had made sure to ask them if they were okay with Martin keeping Luna, but he hadn't really expected them to embrace the situation with such gusto, and his heart burns with an odd intensity at their gestures of support.

It's almost-

It's almost like they love him, and care about all the things he cares about.

Martin sits, staring at a cat backpack, and allows the realisation to wash over him. It hits him like a tidal wave, despite the dozens and maybe hundreds of times they've said the words to him.

He feels very foolish, left floored by the fact that his lovers- well, that they love him!

Martin knows, understands even, that he has been left slightly broken by his father leaving, his mother hating him, the things that he chose to do to survive in his early adulthood. He does understand that, and yet he never realized that he was hearing Jon and Gerry say they love him and saying the words back, and yet subtly holding on to the (clearly mistaken) understanding that they don't really mean them.

It makes a sick kind of sense, clinging to the idea that they don't really care about him, so when they decide that they don't anymore, it doesn't leave him broken beyond repair.

Martin puts the cat bag down on the table, hands Luna to Gerry, and gets up. He waves at them reassuringly when they try to ask him what's wrong, before walking to the bathroom, locking the door, and sobbing like a child for several long moments.

*

As Luna grows, she spends time with each of them.

Gerry takes her most of the first nights, feeding her through the evenings and then handing her back to Martin as he leaves for the bookstore.

This means she spends quite a lot of her formative life in a bar, but when Martin goes in to check on them, he finds Gerry's plastered clientele just as enamored with the kitten as his own tea-drinking patrons.

Jon likes to have her in the late afternoons, keeping her at the library for a few sleepy hours before he leaves for the day. He tells Martin once that the children's reading group comes in during that time, and he likes to sit in with them and let Luna listen along.

The children, of course, adore her and Jon tells Martin very primly, "Listening comprehension is a very important skill in a developing infant."

Martin finds it hilarious and adorable and can't help but pull Jon into his arms and kiss him breathless, an unimpressed Luna trapped between them.

Saturn does not appreciate Luna at first, disappearing in a huff the first few times Martin brings her over to the studio.

"Don't worry about it, love." Gerry had waved away his concern casually. "He's just a jealous baby. He'll figure out that she wants to play with him eventually, and then they'll be the best of friends."

Indeed, Martin walks into the kitchen one morning to find the two cats curled together in a shaft of sunshine. Saturn is gently giving her a bath, and Luna purrs sweetly at the attention.

When Saturn notices him watching, he untangles himself, shows Martin his bum, and then disappears. He's reminded of nothing so much as Gerry himself, caught eating ice cream for breakfast, or smoking during the day, an activity he would insist is a nighttime pursuit only. The same drama is employed as a distraction technique, and Martin wonders whether the cat learnt it from the goth, or the goth learnt it from the cat.

Luna grows and settles, and Martin adores having her more than almost anything.

He takes the time, as they raise her, to force himself to accept his life for what it truly is. He puts aside the constant nagging fear that Jon and Gerry will lose interest in him one day and begins to notice all the ways they show him they love him, which makes the words all the more precious to him when they take the time to tell him.