Vent in tags idfk

Okay but Joyce doesn't like Steve au that's juxtaposed by Hopper having accidentally adopted Steve but neither of them know the other's strong feelings towards Steve.

Joyce is eyeballing him all suspicious and the like. She doesn't trust him around the kids, is wary when Will talks about how he's actually pretty cool, and that Dustin is totally obsessed with him now. She greatful for his help with...whatever he did with the Upside Down stuff, but still. She knows his reputation. And her opinion doesn't change until post season 4 (despite a very frosty exchange she had with Claudia Henderson about maybe...being careful about letting Steve hang around Dustin pre S3) because suddenly Steve is like. Always at the house she shares with Hopper. She's ticked at first, because why is this random boy in her house? Hanging out and watching baseball with her daughter? And when she mentions why Steve is there all the time, at one of the seemingly rare times Steve isn't eating dinner with them (she thinks a date was mentioned, and she refrained from scoffing at how typical it was for Steve to have a date and probably not call back) El and Hop look at her like she's crazy.

Because Hopper is no longer afraid to admit his fondness for Steve. So much so that Joyce's distain for the kid throws him way off base. The whole time Joyce has been side eying Steve Hopper was sitting there smiling like Steve :) good kid :) he helped El with her hair after Kali. :') Talked about how to accept things you've done that make you feel guilty while working to make up for them and grow to be a better person :) always putting himself on the line to protect those kids :) wrote to El all the time while she was in California so she knew he was still her friend :) glad they have him. Glad El has him :)he called her Ellie last week that's cute :) unfortunate taste in men but apparently that's a family trait so I will deal with it :/ my son :')

So they're both going "why wouldn't he be?"

And Joyce barrels on like "well, he's always here and he and Jon are barely speaking-"

"Woah that not exactly...Steve's fault..."

"and he's closest to Dustin of the kids, not Will."

"not my fault I was dealing with possession when Dustin, Lucas, and Max had their special Steve adventure" (El pats his shoulder in sympathy)

"and now he's missing dinner for a date. just don't get no one else thinks it's weird!"

El frowns "it's their two-month anniversary."

"huh?"

"him and--his date. They have been dating for two months. It's special."

"El, you don't even know her name...I don't think it's that-"

"yes I do! He told me. But asked me not to tell. Right Will?"

Will nods. "They want to keep it quiet. Not ready for everyone to know? I don't know who it is but that's what Steve said when we asked. Robin definitely knows too."

"so why'd he tell El?"

"and me. He told us together."

El rolls her eyes "because he is my brother?"

Hopper's face scrunches in a smile, proud and warm.

"El, we aren't his family..."Joyce is trying, she is! But she isn't fully understanding exactly what's happening or everything in winter/spring 1985.

El looks mortally offended by this. "yes we are. Steve was my brother first."

And Joyce has to reckon with the fact that maybe she's misjudged Steve a little, if El and Hop are getting so defensive over him....

Part 2 part 3

I Can't Sleep

Pairing: Jonathan Byers X Reader (she/her)

Word Count: 1,667

Warnings: smut, fingering, p in v sex, fluff

Summary: sleepy sex with Jonathan. Nothing more, nothing less

A/N: you know me, this might contain a few typos (but hey, I'm back with a new fic!) Also I absolutely can not judge whether it's good or bad, sorry

Out of nowhere, Jonathan's arm settled over her waist. A comforting weight that grounded Y/N in the here and now immediately.

"Thinkin' too much?" The question was little more than a hoarse whisper into the crook of her neck.

Jonathan had nestled his nose right behind her ear. Y/N shuddered at every puff of air drifting over her skin. Slowly, she nodded.

Yeah, definitely thinking too much. Though the current imagery was far more pleasant than the last. Just his broad chest pressed against Y/N's back shifted her frenzied brain to a possible out.

"Want me to make it stop?" Jonathan asked. It was an offer and an invitation all the same.

This had happened before - actually happened quite frequently. Some nights, too little exhaustion had her brain running without a finish line in sight. At first, it had terrified Y/N, time ticking away while sleep refused to come to her and she wasn't getting tired. Which of course did nothing to solve the problem.

Only when they had shared a sleepless night together - neither of them able to grow tired enough to consider rest - they had found a solution that satisfied all parties.

So Y/N nodded once again and pressed her hips into Jonathan's front. "Please."

He took a second to resettle, to get impossibly closer. Then, his hand snuck under her sleep shirt (well technically it was still Jonathan's but Y/N had stolen it ages ago) and danced over her skin. At first, the light touch was barely enough to rise goosebumps and a warm feeling.

Large fingers reached up to cup her tits just then. With expert movements, Jonathan immediately found the exact angle to roll her nipple and have Y/N arch into the touch.

"Feels good baby?" He whispered as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. There, his hand rested merely inches above her underwear, a ghost of a touch almost where she wanted it.

Y/N bathed in the softness of it all. There was nothing hurried about this just yet, only Jonathan wanting to make her feel good, make them have some fun together. "Feels perfect Jon."

Apparently that was his cue. With another delicious twist to her nipple, Jonathan slowly pushed the flimsy material of her panties to the side and cupped her slit.

Even the little bit of friction was enough to make Y/N's breath stutter in her throat. Jonathan pressed his mouth against her neck so that she could feel his grin. "You're already so wet for me."

It was true, Y/N could feel her arousal coating his fingers as he rubbed them along her slit. But she could also feel Jonathan's growing hardness press against her butt through the soft material of his sweatpants.

"And you're already hard." she turned her head until she could look at his moonlit face. Then, she pushed back, rubbed herself against him.

Soft moans fell from both of their lips at the friction. Y/N already imagined how it would feel to have Jonathan inside of her from that angle, how deep he would reach like that with their bodies pressed together so closely. That alone made her drip onto his fingers even harder.

Which of course did not go unnoticed by Jonathan. "I can feel you growing wetter sweetheart. What are you thinkin' about?"

His words were punctuated by a single finger sinking inside of her. Y/N gasped and pushed into the touch immediately.

"You." There was not a second of hesitation or shyness in that statement.

"Anything in particular?" Jonathan teased. He started a slow rhythm of alternating his finger pushing inside of her and his other hand massaging her tits and manipulating her nipples.

It was almost too much already, feeling Jonathan's hands all over her, feeling his cock as insisting weight resting against her lower back, his broad chest a sure border behind her. Jonathan was all around her and she loved it.

Y/N wrapped her hand around his forearm. She needed to hold onto something. And if that something was the arm that was currently fucking her so that she could feel the muscles flexing under her fingers - then so be it.

Suddenly, another finger entered her just as his pace picked up. "Baby what do you want me to do?"

Y/N didn't know - keep up what he was doing right now? She ground her hips into his touch, wanted his fingers to go deeper, wanted Jonathan to really fuck her- "I want your cock."

Every movement stopped.

Then, Jonathan let out a shuddering breath that slid cold over her heated skin. "Fuck baby. Straight forward tonight, are we?"

"You love it," Y/N said just a little out of breath and squeezed him through his pants.

Her reward was a choked off moan and his fingers digging deeper into her cunt.

"Yeah I do," Jonathan replied once he caught his breath again.

Then, his fingers left her. Y/N pushed back into some sort of friction - damn close to start touching herself as Jonathan withdrew completely. "Jon!"

"At least let me get rid of my pants." His voice tipped down in low amusement. It got another edge to it too that had Y/N want him even more.

She wanted to turn around and push the pants out of the way herself.

Jonathan didn't let her.

His arms wrapped around Y/N once again, pinned her in place. Then, he pressed up behind her with his naked cock brushing her panties. Y/N shivered and spread her legs wider.

But that wasn't what Jonathan was going at. For now. One finger tapped against her hip and the material of her panties. "Can I take these off?"

Y/N didn't wait for him to do so. Unceremoniously, she shrugged out of them and disposed of them somewhere on a part of her bedroom floor she would worry about later.

"Will you fuck me already?"

Jonathan didn't answer verbally. Instead, he put his hand on her upper thigh and pushed her legs open gently.

His cock followed suit, resting heavy against her entrance. Y/N was wet enough that Jonathan could slide in smoothly with one languid thrust.

"Feel so good baby." Jonathan nibbed at her throat once again, his voice breathy at the strain of not thrusting immediately.

That right here was almost Y/N's favourite part. She felt so full, Jonathan inside and around her and on top of her and everywhere. Not to mention the pleasure dancing at every nerve ending he was touching.

"You too," she sighed and rolled her hips experimentally.

The result was Jonathan moaning and tightening his grip on her thigh.

So Y/N did it again. This time, she could feel it too, the pleasure of his cock dragging against her walls and looking for that one spot that had her feeling stars in her veins.

"Who's fucking who here?"

And just like that, Jonathan started moving on his own while holding her hips in place. It wasn't too tight - Y/N would have been able to move out of it if she wanted to - but it was an intoxicating feeling. He built up a slow rhythm of deep thrusts that was sure to drive Y/N insane.

"Jonathan please," she whined and arched into his touch.

It worked like a charm. Jonathan could never resist her begging, less so when she was squeezing down on his cock at the same time.

While his pace picked up, his fingers pushed away from her thigh and to her clit instead. He was fucking her in earnest now.

Y/N had to bite down on her own hand to stop from moaning loudly. There were so many sensations at once, the soft cotton of the shirt soaking with sweat between them, Jonathan's naked body behind her, his hands on her, driving her crazy. And of course his cock fucking her towards a powerful orgasm.

"Am I making you feel good?" Jonathan asked teasingly and heightened the pressure of his fingers on her clit.

He was drawing fast circles on it now as his thrusting lost its rhythm. Jonathan was getting close.

And Y/N was already there waiting for him. Everything inside of her coiled up until Jonathan rubbed her just so and pushed inside of her once more.

She was toppling over the edge before she knew it, her cunt spasming around him violently. Jonathan swore into her skin, his face hidden in her neck.

With three more thrusts, Jonathan buried himself deep inside of her as he came as well. Y/N could feel it hot inside of her as they rode out their orgasms.

Eventually, they stilled. Jonathan was inside of her still, his arms wrapped around her and pressing her close to him. Just as the euphoria of the orgasm died down, bone deep tiredness set in.

Y/N stiffled a yawn and snuggled back into him. Only to feel Jonathan move inside of her at her own movement and gasped at the overstimulation.

"Sorry Sweets," he mumbled and pulled out gingerly.

"Noo." Y/N pawed at his arm as Jonathan got up.

He chuckled. "Gotta clean you up baby."

"But I wanna cuddle," She was aware that she was whining but Y/N didn't really care, "you wanted to get me tired and now I am and you're leaving?"

"Not for long," he promised, already halfway to the bathroom.

Still, Y/N kept pouting. She was feeling heavenly loose and sleepy and Jonathan wanted her to move? No thank you.

It turned out that Jonathan didn't in fact wanted her to move. He cleaned her up himself, so gently that Y/N wanted to cry and then climbed back into bed with her.

He even got her a fresh pair of panties.

"I love you," Y/N said earnestly and rolled straight on top of him, "but if you keep being antsy, I swear I'll duct tape you to this bed."

Jonathan laughed. "I love you too. Sleep baby."

With him wrapped around her once more, Y/N did just that.

Jonathan Taglist: @gwendolynmary @black-ink-stars @thelastcityposts @therealeddiemunson @alohastitch0626 @bonked-beyond-belief2 @cinderellacauseshebroke @kenzi-woycehoski (tags didn't work on two of you)

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This is not part two of the Little Mermaid AU which I keep forgetting to finish and post BUT it is another Jonjay AU.

You know what I think would be so fucking funny? One of those 'oh shit I got reincarnated as the villain of this fantasy nobility romance novel' AUs.

Jay is absolutely losing his mind over finding out that no really Jon's just Like That as a person. Seriously has no ulterior motives he's just that sweet and that much of a simp. Jay wakes up engaged to the beautiful magical prince and he's like 'FUCK I gotta break this engagement. RIP the entire week I got to spend calling the hottest man I've ever met my fiance.'

Except he makes the mistake of answering when Jon asks him why. Jay, when he does this, is nervous because he's hoping this works because he doesn't want to die. Jon interprets it as self deprecation. Jay says 'I couldn't possibly live with myself if I forced you to marry someone you can't love.' Jon hears 'my shitty situation re having Henry fucking Bendix as a stepfather has left me with such shit self esteem I believe I'm unlovable and you've fed that assumption this whole time'.

Jon, absolutely devastated at the thought of this earnestly kind, witty, clever man believing himself unlovable, replaces his current number one priority (prepare for father to abdicate the throne) with doing everything in his power to show Jay that he loves him. Jay is having gay panics and some truly spectacular internal meltdowns because he was all prepared to trust no one and only look out for himself but Jon just keeps being sweet and pretty and nice to him and so genuinely set on showering Jay in warmth and adoration and affection. He doesn't know what to DO with it. Jon just- won't stop smiling at him with his stupid soft lips and his stupid warm eyes and his stupid kind face! Jay's poor little gay heart was not built to withstand this! If Jon punctuates one more soft sincere compliment with an equally soft kiss to his hand Jay will go into cardiac arrest and die on the spot!

And they're still engaged and Jay isn't even mad about it anymore but the clock is ticking on the protagonist's arrival and then Jon won't think he loves him, anymore, and all the thoughtful gifts and genuine compliments and hand kisses will stop and Jay will just have to continue living afterwards and-

The protagonist arrives right on cue at the biggest ball of the season. Jay is incredibly confused when Jon... doesn't even notice she's there? Like, hello, perfect fairytale prince, there is a perfect fairytale princess right over there and you are just... too focused on convincing me to dance with you to notice???

(Jay can feel some part of himself absolutely preening at the thought that Jon is that captivated by him.)

Jay continues to regard Jon's increasing obliviousness to the mere fact that the protagonist exists with confusion and a hint of smug satisfaction. Jon continues to be obsessed with devoted to his fiance. The wedding is beautiful. Jay realizes in the nick of fucking time that he can get out of running a country (terrible, Jon would have to focus on rulership instead of kissing Jay) by manipulating Clark into letting Lois run the kingdom for him while they wait for Kon to be dragged home by the ankles so they can crown him king. Jay feels bad for doing this to him, but his desire not to be put in charge of the nation outweighs his guilt at dumping it in Kon's lap instead. He's got Tim on his council of advisors, it'll be fine.

Will never understand how you can read Dany's internal monologue and still come to the conclusion that she's still going to go mad and burn king's landing. It's not a matter of the show "not giving it enough time to cook", it utterly goes against her motivations. She starts her story never really wanting the iron throne in the first place - it's Viserys who believes he is owed the throne because it is his by right. All Dany has ever wanted is a place to belong. Her entire arc starts out with her being sold into marital slavery, helpless, powerless. From there it is all about grasping her own power and in turn wielding it to protect others who are powerless and helpless. Her internal monologue is full to busting with self criticism and self critique. This is not the sign of a tyrant.

If KL burns, we already have a mad queen with the capacity to do so - Cercei. We have a guy about to lose his mind, a guy who is consumed by bitterness and hate and who is obsessed with winning the throne no matter the cost - Jon Connington. We have a guy who would gladly see the whole of KL burn with his entire family in it, who has the cunning and knowledge of KL to get it done - Tyrion. Any one of these characters are a ticking time bomb for mass death events. I see none of this in Dany.

What I see in Dany is a martyr.

I see a character that will be pushed towards the trap that is the iron throne, and will CHOOSE to walk away from it, just as Stannis is doing (temporarily), to put that horse in front of the cart, as it were. I see the events of S8 playing out in REVERSE - whatever horrible thing happens in KL will happen, and then Dany will choose to go north to face the real threat - and she won't make it back.

The mad targ trope is tired. The very act of questioning her own sanity, being conscious of her ancestors and their relationship with madness, is not meant to warn us that she's going to lose it. Quite the opposite imo - I read it as keeping herself in check. This is the sign of a good ruler, of somebody who actually cares about the consequences of her actions. She messes stuff up a LOT, and I have a feeling she's about to do a lot more messed up shit in the very near future - but the chapters I'm reading are showing me a character who is constantly thinking about her faults, failures and mistakes. Again, I take this as a good sign. I really, really just do not see this mad queen Dany happening, y'all.

At one point I was thinking that maybe Jonsa is romanticised more in show than it would be in books. D&d had romanticised many relationships in show so I thought maybe jonsa will also be romanticised one. But after looking so many visual parallels with almost all couples in GOT made me think why are they super focussed in this ship. Why did other ships get some kind of closure but not Jonsa? In books too Jonsa clues are there and it seems most positive. So why the makers backed out?🤔

There are so many possibilities, anon!

Jonsa wasn’t ever a thing (books or show), and we’ve made connections no one intended to exist

Show Jonsa was something that happened as a result of Kit and Sophie’s unexpected chemistry and the writers played with it just because it was good tv without ever planning to actually go there

Show Jonsa was something they came up with, toyed with, thought about making explicit, but then abandoned

Book Jonsa is a thing and D&D wanted to hint at it but were never going there themselves

Book Jonsa is a thing and D&D didn’t want to do it but Kit and Sophie had such great chemistry we made show Jonsa a thing despite their distaste for it

I’m probably missing some variation, but you get the idea. Personally....

I have a hard time believing that the same showrunners who tried to shoehorn in a last minute reason for Dany burning KL (even though they knew that was happening for seasons and she talked about her willingness to burn cities to the ground from like s3 on) were thoughtful enough to create a meaningful dynamic between Jon and Sansa (while they simultaneously kept hinting at Sansa being a traitorous bitch) that spanned three seasons. 

Even if I can accept that as a happy accident, I don’t believe for a minute that D&D came up with the idea of Jon and Sansa reuniting first of all the Starks or working to protect the North/their family together. They whitewashed villains, but they cast a lot of doubt on whether or not Sansa was loyal to her family, and they stripped her of her romanticism, and they didn’t give her a love interest although all the other mains had one, so, their habit of painting with a gentler brush never extended to poor Sansa.

What could have happened is that they looked at what Martin told them and thought they’d mix and match, shuffle the order of things to make it work better for their audience. As in, Cersei and Dany, the only women in power were dying in the end, so they thought making Sansa queen after that would forestall accusations of sexism. I think Sansa will be queen in the books too, but it’s possible that Jon is chosen KitN, his identity becomes known, and he marries Sansa to unify the North when it might all fall apart otherwise. She could be queen earlier in the story, but obviously, that ticks different boxes than her being chosen by her people to lead. If that were how the books were to play out, then I could imagine D&D thought it felt more empowering to do away with the Jonsa marriage and allow Sansa’s rise to power to be about her alone and it might make their lives easier if it happened in the same episode in which Dany was killed.

Or, another option is that book Jonsa is a chaste love. Emotionally rewarding and fulfilling for the characters, meaningful as they choose each other over and over, but ultimately, can’t be together. If it’s something that romantic but not absolutely plot necessary, D&D could have decided to have their cake and eat it too. Still use the Jonsa relationship as an important part of the arcs emotionally, but never acknowledge the nature of their feelings, and instead do Jxnerys which was far more popular with the fans.

I really don’t know what to make of what D&D did, especially because it doesn’t feel like they dropped it before s8 in which they had Sansa behave in such a noticeably jealous way people who hated Jonsa before started to wonder after 8x04 if it was real. My tendency is to think that when they opted to hide Dark Dany, the nature of Jon and Sansa’s bond (whether it was ever meant to be acted on or not) couldn’t be revealed until after the burning of KL, but then they realized how badly this all was going to come across and scratched it.

Day 1 Reveals!

Soft as Memory, Strong as Wood (Jewish Scripture & Legend) written by Hagar, performed by eafay70 Summary: She doesn’t age, and she doesn’t die. Your hands have work still, her sister D’vora says. We are His Hands, The Prophet Eliyahu says. And millenia down the line, Yael is still walking the Earth. High Note (Miraculous Ladybug) written by BookGirlFan, performed by Cathalinareads On Breaking Free [text, audio] (Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling) written by Cannibalschism, performed by UnholyCrowley Summary: It's Sixth Year and Harry has found an unlikely passion in Wizard's Chess. At first, it was simply a way to hang out with his mates during class, but it became so much more. It became a quiet drive, a little flame that bloomed brightly in the cold. And the best part? No one got hurt. No one died. It's Sixth Year and Draco is one year closer to being done with this wretched place. Hogwarts feels like a carcass rotting around him. There is decay in every wall. The Chess Tournament was little more than a checkbox to be ticked on Draco's lengthy and exhaustive list of meaningless triumphs that served no purpose in the real world. What did any of this matter anyway? A Refined Palate (The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by crawfishing, performed by gracicah Summary: Statement of Orin Pollygaster regarding a culinary retreat he attended and his subsequent experiences. Original statement given June 24th, 2009. Audio recording by Lexus Wright, assistant archivist at the Magnus Institute, Birmingham branch. Archivist's note: I was unable to categorize this statement according to the list of entities described by Head Archivist of the London branch, Mr. Jonathan Sims. I can't bring myself to dismiss it as fraudulent, though, or even as irrelevant. Who is this Peri Shereen? Or... what is she? guilty (The Magnus Archives (Podcast)) written by Lua, performed by mistbornhero Summary: These days, things are different. These days, things are exactly the same. One way or another, Jon watches. summer in snow (Friends at the Table (Podcast)) written by Verso, performed by lady_mab Summary: Some time after Belgard's death, Signet returns to her Divine partner's body to tell her the story of the child that Signet used to be, wondering at unexpected winter on Thyrsus. History Hardcore, Ep 69: The Argentum Tapes (Final Fantasy XV) written by nonplussed, performed by youhaveahomeinmyheart Summary: The History Hardcore radio show, episode 69: The Argentum Tapes. The Argentum Tapes are a collection of recordings that appear to have been taken over a period of five weeks in M.E. 756, almost a century ago. They are a rare first-person account of the travels and private interactions of King Noctis and his Royal Retainers, and have helped historians shed some much-needed light on this great, but famously reclusive, historical figure. In this episode, we share a few of these recordings, and discuss their historical significance in greater depth. (Transcript available) Five Steps to Forever (방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS) written by celli, performed by knight_tracer Summary: Namjoon opened his mouth, then closed it and opened it again. He looked a little like a fish. A cute fish, but a fish. Jungkook tried not to giggle; Operation Date Namjoon wasn’t going to get anywhere if he let his inner fourteen year old take control. Lie To Me (Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types) written by TsarinaTorment, performed by stereden Summary: Luke loves camp. Luke betrayed them. It should be impossible for both of those things to be true, but somehow they were. Mirage Arcane (Critical Role (Web Series)) written by sabinelagrande, performed by blackglass Summary: A group of adventurers go on a quest. Probably not the ones you're thinking of. Lock-In Amp (Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types) written by adiduck, performed by AirgiPodSLV, blackglass, CassieIngaben, ffg_podfics, Flowerparrish, GoLBCollabs, kittona, mistbornhero, Opalsong, Tipsy_Kitty, and with Summary: The timestamp in the corner of the screen ticks on from 01:24:03 to :04 to :05, until the minute switches to 25—a total of fifty-seven seconds.The guards hold their position, motionless, until the Guard on the right slumps just a little further, elbow slipping off the desk. He flails and barely catches himself on the edge of the table. The Guard on the left jumps and hauls his helmet off. He turns and appears to be spitting invectives at the Guard on the right. The right-hand Guard appears to be about to reply— —and then they both freeze and turn to face the camera, body language changing like a switch has flipped. The left-hand Guard jams his helmet back on his head as the first pulls a blaster, and a third clone steps into frame—helmetless, in plain white plastoid armor, both hands up and weaponless. As he walks forward, a tattoo in the shape of a number five just barely shows on his temple.

The Jonicles - Entry 14

Note: This is the fourteenth entry of The Jonicles, hence why the date does not match when this is being posted. This was written back in June of this year before I started this blog, and there will be errors or developments in how this series was being written. Please enjoy (or don't enjoy) the fourteenth entry of The Jonicles!

It is currently the 19th of June, 2022 on a Sunday at 5:26 pm, a very special day for Garfield fans and the fat cat himself! It's also day #32 of my Jon Arbuckle hyperfixation, and behind me is a stack of multiple of my dad's Garfield comic books (and one Peanuts book for shits and giggles), and I'm currently reading "Garfield: A Weekend Away" which was published in 1986.

Oh boy, it's here! It's Garfield's birthday today! Now, it may be strange for me to celebrate the birthday of a fictional character and be so excited about it, but before you call someone up for a welfare check on me, just listen for a tick.

Garfield, as silly as a it sounds, is quite important to me. He never dominated my childhood but he was definitely an important part of it. I distinctly remember often watching two specials from Garfield And Friends as a kid, which were the Halloween special and Garfield In The Rough, and I really enjoyed those. I remember watching Garfield Gets Real, and as terrifying as it is to watch now, I also enjoyed watching that movie as well. Heck, I even remember having this Garfield plush and he was in a little pirate outfit (it wasn't the same outfit he wore in the special, he had this little black eyepatch and a red and white striped shirt instead), and thinking about him makes me feel so nostalgic. And that stack of Garfield comics? I read all of those too, baby. And although it's more faint now as they've collected so much dust on the shelf downstairs, I still recall that oh-so familiar smell of 80s paper, and I feel a little calmer every time i get a whiff of it... It's not a high, I swear, you don't need to get a welfare check for me..!

Anyway, the point is, Garfield is special to me because he's not only a charming and adorable cat (although that's definitely a big factor in it, haha), but he reminds me of childhood. He makes me feel good because he reminds me of simpler, happier and more surreal times. In fact, reading some of these comics now feels so surreal because I was so young, a part of me thought I'd never see them again and I've forgotten some of them. But even reading the ones I don't remember so well or the ones I only partly remember means a lot to me because of that same feeling of nostalgia and comfort. The comic may be pretty mundane and admittedly not as funny or charming nowadays as it was back in the 80s or even early 90s, but I still feel happy checking in to read the most recent Garfield comic and feeling a bit of that same excitement I had as a kid when I sat down and read the comics and watched the TV specials we had. It's such a small thing, but just seeing my favourite cartoon cat, my favourite cartoon dog and my favourite cartoon cat owner/cartoonist onscreen or on a page fills me with so much joy. I may laugh and make fun of the more recent Garfield media (especially Garfield Gets Real, ESPECIALLY that), but I really do enjoy their prescence, and it means a lot to have been able to experience something so wholesome and fun as Garfield And Friends as a kid, and it feels great to have the little cat be a part of my childhood, no matter how big or small. Happy birthday, Garfield. I hope that whatever cheesy gag they use for your special day this year, it's a good one. You deserve it, buddy. Thank you for enhancing my childhood, along with Jon (love ya Jon <3), Odie, Lyman, Liz, Nermal, Arlene and all the others. It truly does mean the world.

Last edited at 6:28 pm, and i need to mention the fact that while i was looking through my dad's Garfield comics, i cam across a couple of pages where i apparently had drawn a little egg person holding onto a bird that was carrying Garfield away, but i also had apparently scribbled out bits of Jon's face??? and on one panel he is completely censored???? like it's just the silhouette of him??????? i have no memory of doing this help!?!?!?!? (something tells me ihatejonarbuckle would like the censored Jon panel...)

Don't have much to say here without repeating what i wrote in this entry... Garfield as a whole is just so special to me, as many things from my childhood are. The Garfield Halloween special and Garfield In The Rough still hold up as my favourites today, and my dad probably enjoyed those a lot too when they were first made, and he probably wanted to spread that joy onto me. And well, it worked! I'm a crazy Garfield fan now, haha!

Happy late birthday Garf. Hope you had a good one.

P.S. Here're the panels I scribbled on as a kid!

As you can see, poor Jon is not completely censored, but four year old me definitely made an effort. And is it just me, or is that egg person a little... creepy? I drew a lot of little egg people getting brutally killed and maimed and generally in a lot of distress as a kid, but I think it's the eyes that unease me. Also, the fact that this is probably the oldest drawing I still have that I did is hilarious, it's just me unknowingly vandalising a Garfield book. There's also one where I've taken a panel of Pooky without his eyes and drew them back on, I might post that one by itself as a bonus post or something, it's great. These strips are from the "I Hate Mondays" book, by the way. It's the second one in the series my dad collected.

Cheers,

Your Local Jonnoisseur

Posted on the 22nd of July, 2022 at 8:30 pm.

I watched Tick Tick Boom last night and now that I can finally process my emotions and put feelings into words I’m gonna gush about it, because I had such high expectations for this movie and it freaking soared over all of them!

First off; the adaptation to the film medium and the plot changes

This movie was impossibly good at exploring the theatricalness of the show while also retaining a very real and direct and grounded message.

The framing device of the Tick Tick Boom workshop where Jonathan would occasionally offer a bit of narration or they would cut to with certain songs was beautifully done. The way it came full circle in the end was so profound I can’t even begin to get into it. I was very curious how they would work in songs like Therapy or Johnny Can’t Decide into the limitations of film but they did it so spectacularly it made the songs so much stronger. The juxtaposition between Jon and Susan’s fight and the overly peppy puppet tone of Therapy created such an unsettling and impactful sequence. I was truly blown away

The creative team of the movie clearly knew what the crucial core message, themes, and plot points of the show were and kept those in while adding slight changes to adapt this very simplistic stage show into an extravagant movie atmosphere. While I am sad they cut green green dress it’s absence didn’t detract from the film. And as much as I love the songs Sugar and See her Smile, I think it was the right choice to cut them.

I also loved the shortening of Real Life. It shortened the time between the moment where Jon learns that Michael is HIV positive and him singing Why, which allows the news to still be raw and fresh and feed into Why so well. The little bit of Real Life we got was just enough in that sense, an echo. Building the hopelessness felt by both the Jon and the audience as he’s frantically running to get away from it all.

Speaking of Why, I was expecting that song to be the one that hit me the hardest and I was right. The somber tone it maintained throughout really fit the moment, it allowed the raw emotion and pain fully show through.

Moments that made me absolutely lose it:

Back when the teaser trailer came out I knew I was gonna be a constant mess throughout the movie and I was proven right. The film is so well paced and every moment lands, there is no lull in the story. But that also means there is no moment for me to have a second to process anything and get a break from the out of control emotional roller coaster I was thrown on.

Certain moments that just broke me were 1.) Literally the first two minutes. I loved the candid video camera style shots in the beginning, it reminded me of the actual clips of Jonathan Larson and started the movie off with me already grabbing the tissues.

The original Rent cast members (Adam, Daphne, and Wilson) appearing as extras in Sunday. I don’t know why but that little detail got to me. Seeing them served as a reminder of the true story behind this all.

Overall Thoughts:

I had been (impatiently) waiting for this film since before the teaser trailer came out in June, over half a year. I went into it expecting it to be good yes, but felt like my high standards wouldn’t be met. Partly because of the recent trend of bad movie musicals lately. But this film exceeded every possible expectation.

It was able to blend the over the top theatricalness of the show with songs like 30/90, No More, and Sunday, while seamlessly transitioning into the darker more serious moments of the story. Throughout the entire watching experience I felt completely submersed, and like I was watching a piece of history unfold from the outside.

I hope this film gets big, not only because this show finally deserves the recognition, but because it proved that movie musicals can be truly art and astounding if the work is put in. The directing was out of this world and the casting was magnificent, It was a movie that was truly made for theatre people. And I cannot imagine a better way to honor Jonathan Larson and his legacy.

Just Wait

Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,989

Summary:

Notes: I hope this is all right. 

Dialogue Prompt:  “Try and stay calm, okay? Help is coming.”

The wind was howling through the air. Snow whipping past your face and obscuring your view. All that you could see were the elegant spikes of Rhaegal’s neck. The pebbled scales being the only comfort to your numbing hands. You wince as the winds howls were intersected by the wails of the damned. Glowing blue eyes appearing before your eyes as you blinked. 

Glancing down, you could see nothing but the unending swirl of white in the pitch blackness. 

How many of your friends had already perished below you? 

How many would you never see again? 

How many would you never be able to properly bury?

The questions only cause the growing pit in your stomach to become that much larger. Your hands clench around Rhaegal’s spike. Trying your best to keep your breath steady as he took another sharp turn. Your body pressing against his neck in order to stay upright. Squinting doing little to alleviate the temporary blindness the action caused. 

Craning your neck, you look up in hopes that the moon would be able to guide you to where you needed to be. You were only met by even more suffocating darkness-- even the clouds having lost their glow. Curses fall from your lips as you angle Rhaegal down into another dive. Getting too close to the ground could prove to be fatal but you had no choice; images of Viserion’s lifeless body falling from the sky comes unbidden to your mind at the thought. Your heart breaking all over again as you remember his pain-filled cry. How Rhaegal had echoed it as you both tried to desperately save him. Your gentle boy being swallowed by ice and snow; only to be awakened by the very thing that had cursed him. 

You hadn’t seen Viserion yet but you had heard his roars. The once gentle and calming sound turned ragged. A mournful howl for everything that was lost and that had to continue to be. In the same manner, you hadn’t seen Drogon or Daenerys since the battle had begun. Both you and Rhaegal taking to the outside defenses to make sure there wouldn’t be any stragglers. Even now you couldn’t hear the sounds of Drogon’s mighty roars or the cries of battle. 

You and Rhaegal were completely alone. In the ghost filled sky that promised nothing but despair when it used to offer nothing but freedom. 

That is until a sharp cry from above you caused every hair on your body to stand on end. Your head snapping up towards the sound, even as you made Rhaegal dive to the side, and nothing could have prepared you for the sight of seeing Viserion. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of seeing him so broken. His scales, once so vibrant, turned ashen and lifeless. 

His gentle face devoid of any emotion except for the mind-numbing coldness that seemed to be in constant supply in the North. 

Once golden eyes, that always reminded you of the sun, turned blue. Fire turning to ice. 

The only thing rivalling the horror you felt at seeing Viserion in such a state was seeing the thing that was riding him. The Night King’s cold eyes were watching your every movement as Rhaegal dipped lower and lower in the sky. Your attention diverted from his icy gaze towards Rhaegal as his wings narrowly escaped the tree tops. His body jolts as he tries to avoid the imminent collision. 

With your mouth pressed into a line, you force yourself to relax and remember everything you had learned over the years with Rhaegal. Every minute movement of his body and what that told you. Even if the Night King could control Viserion, he would never be able to fly like you could. You just had to get to Daenerys, to Drogon, and everything would be fine. 

Chancing one last glance towards him, you couldn’t help the sardonic smirk that pulled at your lips. “If you want me you’ll have to catch me you sick bastard.”

-----

In retrospect, taunting the Night King wasn’t the smartest plan. While you had the advantage of experience atop dragons. He held the advantage when it came being able to see where you were going. Which, in the grand scheme of things, was a very useful tool to have. 

As it wouldn’t be the first, or second, time you had almost slammed into something as you made your back towards Winterfell.

“How did we get so far out?” You hiss as you, yet again, dip Rhaegal into a dive to avoid Viserion’s talons. His disjointed shriek causes the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. You didn’t remember flying this far out from Winterfell but as each moment ticked by you could tell that you had somehow gotten turned around. We were only supposed to be a few minutes out at most. How did this happen?

Feeling the sudden breeze of air on your head, causes you to duck. Your head almost collided with Rhaegal’s neck as Viserion made another dive towards you. Feeling the slick feeling of liquid running down your neck, you raise your hand to the base of it. Letting loose a soft hiss as a sharp stab of pain is the response your body gives to the prodding. You know you didn’t have to look at your fingers to see that your glove was stained red. 

Catching sight of the beacon fires almost causes you to sob in relief. Your eyes welling up at the brilliant sight of light after spending so long in near darkness. The sounds of battle resounding out towards you like a choir. 

“Only a bit longer, Rhaegal,” you murmur against his neck. Feeling the way his breaths had gotten deeper. You don’t know how much longer he would be able to last if the pace continued like this. The constant bobbing and weaving through frozen air. Squeezing your eyes shut, you send a silent prayer to R’hllor to get you through this-- to get Rhaegal through this. “You’re doing so well. Just a bit longer and I promise you’ll be able to rest.”

Only a small snort was your response. The reaction caused a small smile to quirk your lips despite the situation you were in. His tenacious spirit hadn’t dimmed in the slightest even as his energy was so clearly waned. That’s my boy. 

Angling Rhaegal into a steep dive, you make your descent towards Winterfell. Your eyes desperately searching for Daenerys. Your breath catching when you finally caught sight of Drogon’s familiar form. His looming black shadow shifting over the battlefield as he and Daenerys dealt with the Wights. The Unsullied fight valiantly underneath their Khaleesi. You think you could even see Jorah shifting about with Jon Snow’s direwolf-- Ghost. 

Viserion’s sharp cry causes you to wince. Your head is already bowing as you twist Rhaegal into the opposite direction. Hoping that you would be able to be fast enough but you hadn’t reacted fast enough. Not as you felt Viserion slam into Rhaegal and press you down against his back. Your breath escaping you in a harsh exhale as Rhaegal tried desperately to free himself. His angry shrieks like daggers through your heart. 

Knowing that there was little else you could do; not when you and Rhaegal were so tired. You call for Daenerys-- hoping that your dragon would be able to get to you. Your eyes search for her violet as you begin your descent towards the snow covered ground. 

“Daenerys.”

------

“Daenerys.”

The sound of her name ripped through the air. Louder than any scream from the undead below her. Louder than any cry of the dying that would forever echo in her head. Louder than even Drogon was at his angriest. 

Her head snapping up in the direction the scream, no plea, had originated from. Her own beginning to form when she saw her mate and son in a spiral. She had known that Viserion was a slave of the Night King’s now but she had never truly prepared herself to see him. 

She had never thought it would be when he was clutching onto Rhaegal’s back. His talons like anchors against Rhaegal’s green hide. Rivulets of red already became obvious as her son struggled to break free. Struggled to protect his mother, his rider, from harm. She could even see your face from here. See the pain that was so clearly etched across your beautiful features. The blood that was becoming apparent through the stark white of your cloak. 

It was a sight that forced her into action. Nudging, Drogon in your direction as fast as he was able to go. Her heart hammering in her chest as Rhaegal let loose another cry of pain. As Viserion echoed it back with one of his own demented shrieks. Her two boys, that were closer than even she could comprehend, enemies because of the vileness that Westeros held. It brought tears to her eyes as Drogon finally got a hold of Viserion. His much larger form easily being able to overpower his brother. Claws ripping and tearing through brittle hide as he was tossed to the side. Little decorum being shown for what used to be his brother. 

Glancing down, Daenerys’s heart almost stops at the sight of Rhaegal’s still plummeting form. His wings weakly trying to keep him afloat but nothing would be able to stop his descent. She could see the wounds in his wings and the way his head was drooping which each second ticked by. Angling Drogon into a dive, Daenerys does everything she can to stop his descent. To stop him from hitting the ground but it was all in vain. 

Her widened gaze watching as Rhaegal was weakly able to run across the surface before crashing down completely. The form of his rider being thrown from his body into a heap on the icy landscape. 

Not thinking of much else, Daenerys jumps off of Drogon the moment his feet make contact with land. Her hand ran against Rhaegal’s neck in a quick search to make sure he was all right; relieved when she felt his heavy breathing through her glove. His steady warmth is still there despite everything.

With that task accomplished, she makes her way over towards the form of her mate. Her knees hitting the ground with preamble and she brought you into her arms. A worried gaze taking in every bruise and scrape that made up the expanse of your skin. Blood trickling down slowly from open wounds that didn’t look to be too deep. A relieved sob leaving her lips when she notices your breathing; while shallow it was something. 

Closing her eyes, Daenerys sends a silent thank you to whatever deity helped keep her mate and son safe. Her mouth pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as she pulled you tighter into her embrace. Very much aware of Drogon’s presence wrapping around her. His protective stance warmed her heart.  

“Try and stay calm, okay?” She murmurs softly to herself as she pulls you tighter against her. Wanting to keep you as warm as she possibly could. “Help is coming.”

Glancing up, Daenerys could no longer see the various shadows of war against the landscape. Her heart thudding against her chest at what that could mean. Though none of it mattered if it meant that she lost you. 

Looking down, she presses another small kiss to your forehead and smiles despite the tears in her eyes. “I love you. If you hold on a bit longer I promise I will never leave your side again.” She nuzzles into your neck; needing to be surrounded by your scent. “You’ll be stuck with me. Just wait for help to come.”

Unbeknownst to Daenerys the slightest of smiles curled your lips at her words. You could never imagine not waiting for your dragon. 

You should do 56 or 26 on the kiss prompt for Jon and Martin

26. Jealous kiss

56. Caught off guard kiss

read on ao3

--

It really is a lovely wedding, Jon thinks fondly, as he watches Georgie and Melanie dancing and laughing and smiling through happy tears together beneath the gentle strands of light. He’ll deny it until the day he dies but there were a few happy tears of his own during the vows. Martin’s hand found his then and squeezed.

Now though, Martin’s the one sniffling a bit and trying to be inconspicuous about wiping his eyes. Jon smiles softly and leans close, pressing a kiss to Martin’s shoulder.

The dance is over and Georgie and Melanie embrace and suddenly people are talking again, the awed silence broken, as more upbeat music starts to play, inviting more people onto the dance floor. Jon excuses himself to fetch drinks as Martin gets caught up in a warm conversation with someone nearby.

Jon is picking up two glasses of wine when he hears a delighted voice from behind him.

“Christ, could that be Jonathan Sims?”

Jon turns, already feeling a smile forming at the familiar voice. “Milo? Is that you? Good Lord, it’s been years.”

Milo hasn’t changed a bit since their last year together at uni. Their hair is still a mess of dyed curls and their eyes are obscured behind possibly the same glasses frames from all those years ago; Jon is a bit miffed however to see as they approach that Milo has an inch or two on him now.

“It’s been far too long, Jon,” Milo grins. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well,” Jon smiles, letting his gaze wander a bit to see Martin gesturing expressively and smiling while speaking to someone Jon doesn’t recognize. Martin must notice Jon’s gaze because he looks up and smiles so fondly Jon’s cheeks heat. “Yeah, very well.”

Milo follows Jon’s gaze, and they raise a querying eyebrow. Jon clears his throat, turning back to his friend.

“And you? How are you doing?”

They continue to talk good-naturedly about their lives since they last saw each other at uni, commenting on how exciting it is to see Georgie married and happy. It really is great to see his old friend, and Jon finds it hard to keep the wide smile off his face as they recount old exploits. He quite forgets what he came over to do in the first place until a warm hand gently rests on his shoulder.

“There you are, love,” Martin chuckles slightly. “Sorry I got so caught up.”

“No, no,” Jon waves a hand, “Martin, I’d like you to meet my old friend, Milo.”

“Ah, so you’re the famed boyfriend, good to meet you, Martin,” Milo holds out their hand amiably. “Jon, Georgie, and I all know each other from uni. Had a lot of crazy adventures together,” Milo winks surreptitiously at Jon, and Jon stifles a laugh.

“It’s good to know Jon managed to get up to some mischief during his time at uni,” Martin says a bit flatly. As soon as he drops Milo’s hand from shaking it, he grabs Jon’s and puts on a particularly forced smile.

“Well, as fun as it is to catch up with old friends, I’m afraid I’ll have to steal Jon away as he promised me a dance!”

Jon scoffs. “I did no such thing!”

Martin chuckles. “Well then,” he holds out his hand, an eyebrow ticked up in that over-the-top flirtatious way that makes Jon giggle. “May I have this dance?”

Jon pretends to ponder the question for a moment before sighing and saying, “I suppose.”

Martin grins widely and leans in to place a particularly searing kiss to Jon’s lips, a hand coming to rest against his neck. When he finally pulls away, Jon is quite dazed, heat rising in his cheeks, and it’s all he can do to mutter a disjointed apology to a rather amused-looking Milo before he’s pulled out onto the dance floor.

It’s not until Martin’s hands are resting at Jon’s waist, leading them in a gentle swaying amongst the other guests that Jon has the wherewithal to sputter out a “And what was that exactly?!”

Martin sniffs and looks off into a corner. “Nothing.”

Jon raises a single eyebrow, unamused. “We really must do something about that jealous streak.”

“Hey, you love it!” Martin protests. “You get all smug. Don’t think I don’t notice.”

“Yes, well…”

He reaches up and pulls Martin down by his collar so he can press a lingering kiss to his cheek and then a quick peck to his lips.

“…Maybe I appreciate being someone to be jealous over.”

Martin shakes his head. “You truly are a ridiculous man.”

He presses a soft kiss to Jon’s forehead and stays there. Jon wraps his arms around Martin’s neck, taking the opportunity to kiss his collarbone, and sways to the music. He’ll have to apologize more formally to Milo later for his boyfriend’s—admittedly adorable—antics. But for now, he lets himself smile against Martin’s chest as the music continues.

Sunrise on Gotham

Read Sunrise on Gotham on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 29 - Wait!

Gotham wasn’t Marinette’s first choice for the location of their class trip. In fact, the grim American city hadn’t even made her top ten list. Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam, a city rich with history and culture. But when Mm. Bustier announced that a vote for the class trip location would be held, the class voted almost unanimously. After all, Lila’s long-distance boyfriend, Damian Wayne, lived in Gotham. Wouldn’t it be great for Lila to be reunited with him? And Lila traveled so frequently that she had already visited all of the other cities Mm. Bustier suggested. Would it be fair to make her go visit a city she had already been to? Marinette scoffed as she overheard the class discussion. She knew that this was just another one of Lila’s lies, perfectly designed to manipulate the people around her into doing what she wanted.

Marinette kept her mouth shut while her classmates all decided to vote for Gotham. But that didn’t stop her from putting her checkmark next to Amsterdam on the ballots Mm. Bustier passed out. Maybe that would have been the end of Marinette’s bitterness if Lila hadn’t “accidentally” glanced at the ballots on Mm. Bustier’s desk she was leaving the classroom. Marinette could still remember Lila’s sickeningly sweet voice, feigning concern for Marinette, asking why Marinette wanted to go to Amsterdam so badly.

As Marinette scrambled for an answer, Alya turned to her with cruelty in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re trying to sabotage Lila and Damian’s reunion. You’re so selfish, Marinette.”

Marinette didn’t bother replying - it never helped. As she left the classroom that day, she could see the disappointment in Adrien’s eyes. Her crush on the blonde model had long since faded, and alongside it went the rose-colored glasses she used to see him through, back when they were both thirteen. Now, four years later, all she saw was a selfish boy who cared more about avoiding conflict than actually solving problems.

Four months later, the plane landed in Gotham just as the sun began to rise. As her class walked from the airport to the hotel, Marinette felt herself zone out. Even though it wasn’t her first choice, Marinette could still appreciate the sight that was the Gotham skyline. Looming silver skyscrapers were framed by the gray, cloudy sky. As Marinette took in her surroundings, she began to wish that she could stop and get her sketchbook out. Ideas for a Gotham-themed fashion line popped up in her mind like weeds, and she needed to stop and pick them before she could properly zone back in. Gray was a color she had never properly worked with, which would make incorporating the color a nice way to challenge herself. In her mind, shades of gray instinctively started organizing themselves into the different ways she could pair them together.

“Wait!” A hand grabbed Marinette’s arm, pulling her back. Marinette gasped as she realized that she was about to walk onto the street, straight into traffic. She whipped around to face her savior.

The first thing Marinette noticed was his height. She was used to feeling short, at 5′2″, most people were taller than her. But he seemed to dwarf her. She figured he was 6′0″ at least. The second thing she noticed was the look of concern in his eyes. “Are you okay?” He asked.

Marinette nodded jerkily, trying to control her breathing. Having a panic attack alone in the middle of downtown Gotham would be just about the worst thing for her to do. She was supposed to be Ladybug, the savior of Paris, yet she was so unaware of her surroundings in a completely foreign city that she almost got killed in traffic. “I’m okay, I was just daydreaming,” she babbled, “Usually I’d be more aware of my surroundings, but I just got off of the plane and I’m not used to jetlag.”

The stranger had a bemused smile on his face as he walked her talk. Marinette blushed as she realized how dumb she must look to the handsome stranger. “Your accent, is it French?”

Marinette nodded. “I just got here from Paris. I’m on a class trip.”

“Where’s the rest of your class?”

Marinette looked around, trying to figure out which way her class went, but they were already gone, out of sight. “I’m not sure...” She trailed off. “But I have the address for the hotel on my phone, so I’ll be able to catch up with them there.”

“Gotham is known for being difficult to navigate. I can take you there if you’d like.”

“Sure,” said Marinette, pulling her phone out to check the address. “It’s called the Gotham Grand Hotel. It's on the corner of 7th Avenue and 22nd Street.”

“That’s about twelve blocks away. It’s pretty far. Are you sure you’re up for the walk?”

Marinette nodded. “I’m sure I can make it."

His smile returned as he introduced himself. “I’m Damian, by the way.”

“I’m Marinette,” Marinette introduced herself as Damian led the way.

A moment later, Damian's phone started to ring. He answered it while still walking. "Hello.”

A brief pause, then. “I’m on 4th Avenue, by the Starbucks.” Another pause as he listened to the person on the other end of the phone conversation. “I’m not free right this moment, but I will be in a few minutes." Another pause. "I'm helping someone get around the city. She got a little lost on her school trip, and you and I both know that the city isn't exactly safe when you don't know your way around it."

Marinette was beginning to wonder who exactly Damian was talking to, but she didn't want to be rude and interrupt. Instead, she got her phone out of her pocket and sent a quick text to Alya, telling her that she would be a little late because she got disoriented on the hectic Gotham streets.

"I'll be free until five tonight. Father's insisting that I come and have dinner with the family, and I have my internship afterward, from seven to nine." Another pause, this one longer. "I suppose that would work. I was planning on going out to eat at some point, anyway. I'll just have to ask Marinette if she's okay with it."

Damian put the phone down and turned to face Marinette. "My boyfriend, Jon, offered to pick us both up and drop you off at your hotel on our way to get brunch. If you don't feel comfortable with that, I understand."

"Oh, it's perfectly fine," Marinette assured him.

Damian frowned slightly before replying to his boyfriend. Marinette knew that Damian probably thought she wasn't being cautious enough, but she didn't care. After four years as Ladybug, Marinette was confident that she was capable of taking care of herself.

A minute later, a car pulled up beside them. “This is Jon’s car,” said Damian as he grabbed the door for her.

“Thank you,” Marinette smiled in return as she pulled her suitcase in after her. "Hello, Jon. I'm Marinette."

"Welcome to Gotham, Marinette." Jon leaned past the driver's seat to shake her hand. Marinette noticed that he had a very friendly face: a nice smile and kind eyes. "How are you enjoying the city?"

"It's nicer than I expected, I suppose, but I didn't exactly have high expectations. Gotham has a reputation in Europe for being the worst tourist destination in America."

Damian nodded. "That sounds like Gotham. It'll grow on you, though."

"Like a fungus," added Jon.

"If you say so." Marinette cast a distasteful look out the window of the car at the gray streets.

"Do you have any plans for lunch?" asked Jon.

Marinette shook her head. "Not really. The hotel has a restaurant on the ground floor, but their lunch menu is pretty limited. I'm vegetarian, so my only option is a salad."

"Would you like to come to brunch with us?" offered Jon.

"Are you sure you want me there?" Marinette didn't want to be a third wheel if brunch was supposed to be a date between Jon and Damian.

"Of course," said Damian.

"Alright. I don't think I'll be missing anything if I go with you. Our itinerary keeps us pretty busy at the beginning of the trip, but we were given today to rest up, to help get rid of the jetlag. I switched my sleep schedule a week ago, though, so my body is already running on Gotham time.”

Damian nodded thoughtfully. “Do you want to check the itinerary, just to be sure?”

Marinette shrugged. “It can’t hurt to check it one more time.” She pulled the paper out of her suitcase. “Our class doesn’t have anything planned until tonight. We have dinner at a restaurant called..." Marinette consulted her itinerary, "The Coast, and then we’re seeing Wicked at one of the theaters downtown.”

“I've been to The Coast before with my family. They have very good vegetarian options. It is very expensive for a high school class trip,” Damian noted.

“I go to an accelerated school. The school has a very large budget, due to the amount of tuition, and the number of alumni who give back to the school.” Marinette shrugged, a nervous tick. She didn’t like talking about how much her tuition cost. Even with her 50% scholarship to Francois Dupont, tuition was still a struggle sometimes. Her parents didn’t make that much money from the bakery, and compared to the elite professions of some of her classmates' parents, Marinette was often considered to be poor. It left her feeling out of place, guilty every time she felt embarrassed by her working-class parents.

“That sounds-“

Marinette continued to babble. “I’m grateful for the opportunities that François Dupont gives me. Much more grateful than a lot of my classmates, anyway. Some of them only read the itinerary for the first time on the plane ride to Gotham. One of my classmates, Chloé, threw a fit because she believed that the entire trip would be a shopping spree through Gotham. Other students got mad for other reasons. One of my classmates made some promises that she had no business making - telling everyone that we would be getting way more free time than we were actually given. It’s a shame. I used to love being a part of Mme. Bustier’s class, but everything fell apart after...”

Marinette stopped half-way through her sentence and stared down at her hands as she realized that tears had sprung to her eyes. She felt the red flush of embarrassment begin to overtake her face. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. It sounds like you have a lot going on with your class at the moment."

"That's putting it mildly," said Marinette. "It's been... difficult, to say the least."

"Do you want to talk about it?" asked Jon.

Marinette shook her head. "Not really. Even if Gotham wasn’t my first choice for our class trip, I still want to at least try to have a good time.”

“What was your first choice?” asked Damian, a hint of curiosity to his voice.

“Amsterdam,” said Marinette longingly. “But Lila wanted to visit her boyfriend in Gotham, Damian Wayne, so the whole class ignored the fact that Gotham is the most crime-ridden city in America, all so that Lila could visit her boyfriend.”

Damian looked shocked. “Did she say her boyfriend is Damian Wayne?“

Marinette nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

Jon snorted. “I know that you like girls too, Damian, but I figured you would tell me before adding a third to our relationship.”

Damian rolled his eyes, quipping back something just as clever. Marinette was too stunned to listen, as she realized that the rich and powerful Damian Wayne whom Lila claimed to be dating was the same Damian who helped Marinette on the streets of Gotham. Marinette stuttered out, “I didn’t- I didn’t realize that you- you’re Damian Wayne.”

Damian chuckled. “I can tell. I have to admit, I’m not used to not being recognized. I'm pretty famous around Gotham."

“The Billionaire Bisexual Ice Prince of Gotham,” quoted Jon with a grin on his face. “The tabloids love Damian.”

“It’s unfortunate, but it can’t be helped. The tabloids obsess over everything even slightly unconventional, and to them, the bisexual bastard son of billionaire Bruce Wayne is the perfect target. Even more so when he started dating another man.” Damian's voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of bitterness to it. Marinette got the sense that he didn't often open up about his relationship, for fear that the media would not be kind about it. Marinette sympathized. Françoise Dupont had been a progressive school: they had a GSA and a no-tolerance policy (not that the policy was ever upheld). She hadn’t been bullied, per se, for being bisexual, but she had experienced the all too familiar feeling of being othered for who she happened to love.

“Nice use of alliteration,” said Jon. His words would have lightened the mood if it wasn’t for the slight strain to his voice.

It was obvious to Marinette that this was a sore subject between the boys. “So how long have you two been dating?” asked Marinette, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Two years, but we’ve been friends since middle school,” answered Jon. “Damian was the world's most uptight twelve-year-old, so I took it upon myself to get him to loosen up. We became friends and everything since then just sort of fell into place.”

“An apt recounting, even if it omitted some pertinent details.” Damian conceded.

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I was the one to ask you on a date, and you were so shocked that I had figured out that you were bisexual that you dropped the glass in your hand, shattering it,” teased Damian.

“I thought I was being subtle about it,” Jon defended.

Marinette giggled. If she could just spend all of her time with Jon and Damian, rather than her class, she might just have fun on her class trip.

Damian turned to Marinette. “He had a pride pin on his jacket and listened to Carly Rae Jepsen. Subtlety is not, and has never been one of Jon’s string suits.”

Marinette noted that she had a pride pin of her own attached to the front strap of her backpack. Most people never took any note of it - Marinette had quite a few pins on her backpack - but Marinette got the feeling that Damian was aware of it.

"We're here," said Jon, parking the car in front of a little café.

"Café Carlisle has good vegetarian options," Damian assured her as he opened up her car door and helped her out. "They make a superb gourmet grilled cheese sandwich and tomato basil soup. I would recommend it to anyone."

"That's pretty high praise. I get the sense you don't give false compliments."

"I don't." It was a simple answer. Marinette was beginning to get a clearer picture of Damian, who didn't waste unnecessary words but was never afraid to speak his mind.

"Then it had better live up for expectations," teased Marinette.

Damian smiled at her as he held open the door to the restaurant. "It will."

As Damian led Marinette to a booth in the back of the restaurant Marinette caught sight of the reflection of her little group in one of the windows. There was a look on Jon's face that Marinette wasn't sure how to interpret. He had a smile on his face, but it wasn't the joking smile Marinette saw a lot of in the car. It was more of an indulgent smile, giving Marinette the sensation that Jon knew something that she didn't. Marinette wanted to turn around and ask him what it meant, but part of her brain begged her not to ruin this budding friendship before it had even begun.

Marinette had only known Damian and Jon for twenty minutes but already had the strangest feeling that there was a connection between them, some sort of relationship that needed nothing more than a little bit of shown vulnerability to create a deep bond. The only thing Marinette could think to liken it to was love at first sight, but it was beyond that. This wasn't infatuation or obsession (both of which Marinette knew well from her days of crushing over Adrien). This was deeper. This was the knowledge that Damian and Jon had seen her vulnerability and had embraced it, showing vulnerability in their own way. Neither boy had said it out loud, but given that they had both closed themselves off from physical affection as soon as they were in public, Marinette made the assumption that any sort of public display of affection was off-limits to them anywhere that the tabloids could see. It put the fact that they had been incredibly open about their relationship in a new light. It reassured Marinette that she wasn't just imagining their connection. Damian and Jon must have felt similarly about her to be able to talk to her about their relationship.

"Marinette?" Damian spoke her name, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts.

Marinette blushed. "Sorry, I tend to daydream a lot."

Damian smirked. "I'm aware. You almost wandered right into traffic the last time I caught you daydreaming."

Jon stifled a laugh. "What could you possibly be thinking of that would make you so focused that you managed to ignore the traffic right in front of you?"

Marinette launched herself into a spiel about her newest design inspiration, explaining as she went that she was incredibly passionate about fashion and designs and that her designs often had her zoning out for hours at a time. Jon and Damian looked so interested in her explanation that Marinette blushed, not used to having anyone's undivided attention.

Marinette wasn't yet certain where she stood with Damian and Jon in terms of the relationship between the three of them, but she couldn't wait to find out.

@maribatmarch-2k21

Everyone I watched Tick Tick Boom last night on a total whim, just expecting to have some mild fun smirking at the Broadway references and cameos but...

I loved it.

I really loved it.

Like, even more than the original show which I've been singing to for maaaaaany years (I have even used two different songs from it for auditions!!)

I'm so overwhelmed by how much this movie hit me so hard in the heart, the feels, right in the gooey! Especially at age 31 (#finallylearningaboutcomix) when Larson's artistic anxiety still resonates strongly with me but I am already over the fact that my own Superbia (Bear Book, which I worked on for 7 years man) probably ain't it and what I need to do is keep writing the next thing, and the next thing, and the next. And keep putting yourself out there, keep taking the risks, keep laying out your soul on the table for people to poke and prod at because that's what being a writer is.

I can't stop thinking about it and why I think it just works so well:

Choosing to write a story about Larson's life around the actual Tick Tick Boom show was a smart move because it highlighted the strengths of both mediums, theatre and film: big heightened emotions for the former and the detailed intimate moments for the latter. It's a movie musical about writing a musical and it feels appropriately like BOTH things, something I think makes stage to screen adaptations work the best. Like with "Swimming" (loved the tiles turning into staff), "Sunday" (which was always meant to be a loving pastiche of Sondheim anyway) and the way they built the first emotional climax around "Come to Your Senses". I'm so relieved that they made sure Alexandra Shipp sang most of it instead of Vanessa Hudgens. No shade to Vanessa -- I'm so pleased to see her back in musicals!! -- but because you know, it is Susan's big song and she deserves to be the star of it.

...also because I watched Princess Switch 3 the night before and that movie is delightfully bad. Vanessa Hudgens is having the time of her life and my god that fictional country does not care at all about energy consumption, at least not during the month of December.

Speaking of actors, the casting was just lovely. I am always delighted to see Robin de Jesus (and now time for a brag that I met him stage door for In the Heights in 2009 and made him laugh by telling him he was amazing on Legally Brown lol uh huh yep be jealous) and Andrew Garfield was excellent! I don't think I'm raring to see him in more musicals the way I felt about Josh Groban after Great Comet, but he did wonderfully on this one and the fact that HE LOOKS SO MUCH LIKE JONATHAN LARSON IT'S SCARY was something I couldn't really get over for the first 5 minutes.

And compared to RENT, TTB handles the themes of how chasing art and dreams affects your relationships as well as the backdrop of the AIDS pandemic far better. RENT has aged extremely poorly and the enormous cast of characters make it hard to flesh any of them out so most of them remain very caricaturesque for the duration of the musical. In TTB you really only have Jon, Michael and Susan but even then, the real focus is on JON's relationships with the other two which stems from the fact that it started out as a one man show anyway. But this means that there's definitely enough space, enough attention to develop him and construct a true arc where he has goals, flaws, epiphanies and transformations that are shown and developed within two hours. The midpoint conflicts are properly resolved by the end of the film and it's way more satisfying than trying to make us forget about it due to the magical powah of Musetta's Waltz on electric guitar. My flatmate pointed out that RENT also suffers from being stuck as a 90s retelling of La Boheme instead of its own story, so that's there too.

SPOILER And/but being a theatre kid, there's the bittersweet realisation that time genuinely was ticking for Larson because we know how the rest of the 90s went for him. RENT is so obviously a rough draft that he fully intended to work on more ("Your Eyes" is by far the worst song and clearly a placeholder; I wish the team that produced it for Broadway hadn't been so precious about the show and done major tweaks) and thinking of what other things he could have written does fill me with sorrow. END SPOILER

But Tick Tick Boom is also better than RENT -- and a product of its time 30 years later in 2021 -- by not villainising the characters who decide to give up the bohemian artist's dream for whatever. It gently grimaces at the tiny cutting remarks of those who don't ~understand~ what it's like to make art, but no longer mocks those who value having support and stability. It recognises that the hustle does grind you down in mind and body, does damage the other aspects of your life, and can make you feel so small and worthless so if you can find fulfillment elsewhere, you are not bad for choosing that instead. Which also makes the determination to plough on so admirable and worth it. Everyone finds their own way. And someone else's is not necessarily the easier or better way. It's just... a way.

Anyway.

I loved Tick Tick Boom. It's on Netflix. Go watch it. Thanks LMM and the Dear Evan Hansen guy. I'm legit impressed.

I'm looking forward to watching it again, and I hope the OST blows up on Spotify.

for @jonmartinweek day 8! (which I definitely realized was happening and for sure did not forget lmao). The prompt was free day/au, so I picked my own theme of “pets”. The last few fics have been pretty loaded, so please enjoy some pure post canon (literal and figurative) fluff

~*~

“I can’t believe I married a dog person.”

They weren’t even supposed to be in the shelter. They had made no plans to visit a shelter. However, as Jon has been learning over the course of the past couple years, a Martin not under duress and given free time outside will inevitably end up trying to befriend any living nonhuman creature in the immediate vicinity.

“I’m not a dog person.”

“The lapful of beagle puppy would indicate otherwise.”

“Just because I appreciate the company of a very good boy, yes you are, doesn’t mean I’m a dog person. Dog person implies I have a preference. I like cats equally as much as I like dogs. Unlike some of us, my heart is open to all manner of furry friends.”

“I don’t...hate dogs.”

“Uh-huh. Is that why you won’t pet Rufio here?”

“He’s nippy, I don’t trust him. And it’s just that dogs are A Lot. I find most of them a bit overwhelming. And needy.”

“Pff, that’s no excuse. You’ve been best friends with overwhelming, and you married needy.”

Martin lets out a distracted giggle as Rufio finally gets in a lick on his face. Okay, maybe it is a pretty adorable sight, but that’s hardly sufficient enough evidence to actually let such an energetic ball of fluff into their home. Still, it’s enough to convince Jon to sit down next to them, and give Rufio a very tentative scritch behind the ears. “I think we both qualify as the needy one in our relationship.”

“Pretty sure that’s called codependency. What would our therapist say?”

“She’d probably say that’s a bit harsh. And that we still need to work on our separation anxiety.”

“Hey, you know what helps with separation anxiety?”

“No.”

“A dog!”

“No!”

They get a dog. Their flat is decently sized and they both have steady incomes and enough free time between them to take proper care of her. They don’t get Rufio, but instead a 7 year old mutt named Daffodil who is, admittedly, the most gentle and sweet creature Jon’s ever met. They also get a cat, a rambunctious 2 year old tabby named Jack (“We can change the name.” “Jon! How dare you! Jack responds to his name, clearly he likes it!”) who had already decided Daffodil was his mom, and they couldn’t possibly bear not adopting them together.

~*~

“You know, we could get a tarantula.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious! They’re not, like, evil in this universe, and some of them have cutest little pink toesie woesies.”

“You’re not serious, you’re being a bastard, and I hate you.”

Martin wraps his arms around Jon’s waist and presses a kiss to the side of his face, which Jon gives a half-hearted swat at, because, again, the man’s being a bastard. Stubbornly ignoring Jon’s pout, Martin presses his cheek to the top of Jon’s head, cheerfully replying, “I’m fine with that, as long as you promise to hate me for the rest of our lives.”

“Well, I certainly can’t make that promise. I won’t even hate you ten seconds from now. I suppose you’ll have to settle for love instead.”

“Hmm. Deal.”

“We’re still not getting a fucking tarantula.”

They do not get a tarantula. Their home remains admirably spider free.

~*~

Martin’s gasp is loud enough to echo, and Jon can feel him begin to vibrate next to him. The excitement is perplexing at first, they’ve been to this bookstore dozens of times, and it’s never elicited this sort of response. Then Jon looks over to the front counter, where a medium-sized cage and a “For adoption” sign have been put on display. With a wild, jubilant glee, Martin asks, “Sonja! Are those baby. Dumbo. Rats?!”

“Sure are! I’ve got a friend who’s a breeder, I take it you’re interested?”

“Yes, absolutely, 100%, we’re getting two immediately.”

“Well…”

Martin snaps his head over to look at Jon with a look of betrayal the likes of which Jon hasn’t seen since the panopticon. “Jonathan, no!”

“Um.”

“You can not tell me you you don’t like rats! Dumbo rats especially!”

“I…”

Ticking off on his fingers, Martin lists, “They’re adorable, they’re smart, they’re cleanly, they’re extremely empathetic, they’re tickilish, which is stupidly cute, they can be trained to use a litter box and do tricks, they’re snuggly and playful and perfect! They’re all the good parts of dogs combined with the best parts of cats in one tiny portable package! Look at their little ears, that are like that because of a slight difference in skull shape that has no negative health effects! Plus, we can set them up in the project room, since Captain Jack isn’t allowed in there anyway. How can you dislike rats?”

“I don’t know! They just sort of..freak me out. Or not all of them, just their feet. I don’t like their little man hands.”

Martin throws his arms in the air, proclaiming, “Their little man hands are one of their best qualities! Look, Jon, are you genuinely afraid of them, or just slightly discomfited?”

“I would say mediumly discomfited. This isn’t like spiders.”

“Cool. ‘Cause in that case, we’re getting the light tan one and the solid white one, their names shall be Peaches and Cream, and you will love them as much as you love our dog and cat children.”

“That’s a rather bold claim.”

“It’s an accurate one. You’ll see.”

Within a week, Jon is transporting Peaches ‘n’ Cream in the pocket of his hoodie, and he can feel Martin’s smug aura from two rooms away. Damn him.

~*~

“Did you know snakes don’t have an amygdala?”

“Okay? You didn’t have to bring me to a reptile store to tell me that.”

“I didn’t bring you to a reptile store to tell you that. I brought you to a reptile store because I want to hold a cornsnake.”

Jon rolls his eyes, but the fondness in his voice somewhat undercuts it. “Of course you do.”

Martin makes a scaly acquaintance in less than two minutes, and as the snake coils around his fingers, he continues, “Anyway, if they don’t have amygladas, do they feel fear in a way similar to us, or is it only a recognition of threats and instinctual response?”

“Martin, my love, I have no idea. Is this going somewhere? It’s fine if not, I’m just checking in.”

“Yes. Because if they don’t feel fear, I’m getting this snake and naming her Georgie.”

That makes Jon let out a sharp bark of laugh, and, for a moment, he’s able to reminisce without any pain. “You know, I think she’d actually love that? She also had a proclivity for all creatures great and small. And a terrible sense of humor.”

“Wow, you really have a type, huh. Also hey! My sense of humor is fantastic! It always makes my husband laugh, and he has very exacting standards.”

“Liar. Your husband finds joy with you at the slightest provocation, no good sense of humor needed.”

“Hmm. He is a bit of a softie, isn’t he? Which is why he’ll let me get this snake.”

“He most certainly will not.”

“But….look at her….”

“It’s not a matter of how cute she is, dear. It’s a matter of you made us get pet rats less than a month ago, there’s absolutely no way you’re going to be able to feed mice to a snake.”

Martin looks at the cornsnake, looks at Jon, looks back, and his shoulders slump. With a wince, he asks, “Maybe frozen mice won’t be too bad?”

“What if she’s picky?”

“...There are species of snake that only eat bugs.”

“Cornsnakes aren’t one of them.”

Waving over an assistant, Martin puts the cornsnake back with a defeated, “Fine. When you’re right, you’re right.”

Jon doesn’t particularly feel like he’s won an argument. In fact, he’s a bit disappointed himself, he always liked snakes. Big fan of reptiles in general, actually, which is probably what drives him to say, “Lizards don’t usually eat mice.”

That’s how they walk out of the store with three leopard geckos.

~*~

Jon’s helping Martin set up the gecko tank in what can now be affectionately called a zoo when all of the sudden it strikes him. Some of the animals in their home right now have life spans of 10-20 years, and never once had the necessary longevity of care come up as a reason to protest against them. Jon had felt so at ease with the concept of a future that he hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t been steeling himself for the other shoe to drop. He’s stopped having bated breath every time something good happens, instead taking reassurance in a sense of permanence that he wasn’t sure he’d ever feel again. Martin must hear his breath hitch, because he immediately stops what he’s doing to take Jon’s hand into his own. “Something wrong, love?”

Jon shakes his head. “No, nothing. I suppose I’m realizing that we have time, don’t we?”

Martin must know exactly what he means, the weight behind the words, because he brings Jon’s hand to his lips and says, “Yes. Yes, we really, really do.”

Happy new year @vivilove-jonsa! I’m not going to get this done before midnight, but here is a taste of the next chapter of I Just Think I’ll Scream. You highlighted the fact that I only wrote 3 chapters in 2021, and now I have a bit of a fire under me to finish this fic in 2022. 

Sansa really should go to bed.

It’s ridiculously late and if this messes with her sleep schedule, it’ll only make her more anxious. But she can’t. If she goes to bed, she’ll think, and she can’t let that happen. Thinking would be disastrous right now. Jon Snow is sleeping across the hall, and if she doesn’t keep her hands busy and her eyes open, she’s going to think about that, and she doesn’t want to think about that or him, or what happened earlier, or anything really.

So she draws. She imagines that she’s sitting beneath the heart tree, just like she had a few weeks ago, when everything felt right, and the sky was blue, and the whole world was in bloom, and the castle rose up from the trees like a promise, and she told him all her silly dreams, and he made them feel special.

She shades the castle like a bruise in the pale yellow sky. Like the circles beneath Jon’s eyes.

Why is he so tired all the time?

It’s none of your business. Stop thinking.

She colors the leaves shades of red and gold, reaching up to hug the dark stone. She’ll just finish this next tree; then she’ll go to bed.

Is he asleep?

Stop.

She hurt his feelings earlier. She knows it. The words came out wrong, but how does she apologize without—

There’s a knock and she practically jumps out of her chair.

“I know, I know. I’m turning the light off right now—” she opens the door, but it isn’t her mother. It’s him.

His eyes are furious and wild and his hair is a mess of curls tangled around his face like a nest, and before she can say anything, he’s pushing past her into her bedroom. Jon Snow is in her room, and when he turns around to face her and opens his mouth, she’s positive he’s going to yell at her.

She backs against the door as she closes it.

He closes his mouth, and his jaw ticks.

Her vision blurs. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry. 

He’s breathing hard and pale as she’s seen him; blue, paper-thin smears of exhaustion beneath his eyes.

“Jon,” she whispers when he still doesn’t say anything. “Are you okay? Why aren’t you sleeping? Is Robb snoring? Do you need earplugs? I have some, somewhere—”

He makes a strangled sound, before snapping, “If you’re so keen on not being friends, stop being so fucking nice to me all the time. I can’t take it.”

X MEN AU?!?!?!?

GRACE gRaCe grace, you’ve stumbled upon my white whale. My green light at the end of the dock. I’ve been trying to write an xmen au in the TMA fandom for (now) actual years, but it refuses to happen xD 

Essentially, I keep changing my mind about what Tim and Sasha’s mutant powers would be (Jon would be the only non-mutant in the Archive team), and some of those bled into the fantasy au stuff I ended up finishing anyway - particularly Tim’s wings. The ONLY thing that was constant was that Martin was a very strong empath who’d been on suppressants most of his life so couldn’t control or block from either sending/receiving when he goes off them post-Lonely.

This is going to languish in my WIP until the end of time crawls over the finishing line, so here you go xD

 mild cws for intense emotional states and discussions of medication

It’s not like Jon hadn’t known. It had been there from day one, a chunky tick next to the M on Martin’s equality and diversity monitoring form. At the time, he’d wondered, as he looked over the various marks in the ‘prefer not to say’ column, why Martin had disclosed that of all the categories, when he was perfectly within his rights not to. And later, as Martin had wrung his hands and told him about his CV, he’d wondered why Martin hadn’t lied about that as well.

And it’s not like Jon hadn’t known about Martin’s medication. The walls in Archive storage were thin, and he’d overheard Martin trying to get his new prescription early that first night he’d moved into the storage room, in semi-exhausted argument with the out-of-hours chemist, trying to confirm his identity and change of circumstances. His tone had been wrung-out and tether-end and Jon had stood outside the door with his hand raised to knock before Martin had said ‘Ye-yeah. Right. OK. Thanks anyway’ in such a miserable, wrenching voice that Jon had left, not wanting to burden Martin with his presence.

Jon hadn’t connected the two, was all.

He thinks it’s the Lonely, at first. It makes sense, that the wash-out of sensation would return stronger upon leaving. So, Jon doesn’t question that the dug-in clutch of apathy lingers, once they leave the domain of Peter Lukas, that when that starts to dissolve, some new intensity takes its place. Every emotion played back stronger, jarring and sickeningly heady. His happiness is a fearless shining thing, his terrors are a deep morass.

He wakes up one night and he is terrified. A heart-thundering quaking that tightens his throat, squeezes his lungs, but he looks around and there is nothing that seeks to harm them, and his fingers erratically move to grab at the bedside light switch. The room is suddenly awash with light, exposing every corner as empty but Jon’s heart is still sick with beating, his hands unsteady as he looks around wildly because everything is telling him that something is wrong, something has found them here in their seclusion, that they are not safe and will never be.

Martin mumbles in his sleep. The feeling pulses.

Jon turns to Martin. Starting to fuss in dream, his mumbling growing agitated. The terror crests, although it’s not a wave, not really, it’s more like a dimmer switch turned way up and the bright bite of the fear is too much, and – any minute, any minute now, god, they’re under attack, they’ve got to be –  Jon goes to shake Martin awake and Martin’s eyes open panicked and Jon feels that sensation poison his fear. Martin’s looking wildly around for what’s attacking them and Jon’s so frightened now he thinks he’s going to be sick with it.

“Shit, shit,” he hears Martin say, and then Martin puts his own shaking hands on Jon’s and the feeling just goes.

“God, Jon – I-I, I’m sorry,” Martin’s babbling, and he’s turned to his own side of the bed, grabbing the half-empty glass of water and pressing it into Jon’s hands. Jon drains it and feels the same, like a glass of water drained to drops.

Martin doesn’t say anything while Jon reacclimates.

“Would you like some more water?” Martin asks.

“No. No, thank you.”

Neither of them say anything. Jon doesn’t know what to say, and Martin doesn’t know how to.

“I should probably sleep in the other room tonight,” Martin says finally.

“Martin, what was that?”

“I… I forgot,” Martin says, and then he huffs a little disbelieving sound of air. “It sounds stupid but with everything else I just… I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Jon goes to touch Martin’s hand, but Martin moves it away.

“Bad idea at the moment,” Martin says, and there’s another cascade of embarrassment that doesn’t come from Jon, that isn’t his.

Martin breathes in and out very heavily for a few minutes, eyes clenched shut before it fades again.

“They’re yours, aren’t they?” Jon asks. “It’s what you’re – you’re feeling, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t taken any medication since… since Peter. I didn’t need to, I. There’ll be a chemist around somewhere though, yeah? I mean, we’re not actually in the middle of nowhere. If I head out now there might be some…”

“Nowhere is going to be open Martin, it’s nearly four in the morning. You’re in your pyjamas.”

“I-I’ll…It’ll be fine, I’ll, just…”

Jon goes to touch Martin’s hand again and Martin pulls away more harshly this time.

“Don’t,” he says, but it is miserable, and choked and his arms have folded across his chest, and Jon doesn’t understand.

“Martin, please. I don’t understand what’s happening.”

“I usually, I take suppressants, so I don’t effect anyone, but the Lonely… well, it was doing that job for me, really. I haven’t taken any for… since Peter, a-and I just, I forgot, what with the rush and the… and everything, and I’m sorry, a-and I can fix it if I…”

“Why can’t I touch you? Does it, does it hurt you?”

“I – No? not – not exactly. You’ll… um, you’ll feel what I feel a-and I’ll feel what you feel and I can’t control it.”

Martin looks down at his chewed nails, his hands still caught in the backwash of his trembling.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats again.