a is for accepting a dare | these were the facts (from a to z) (1)
AO3
Fandom: The Magnus Archives
Relationships: Jon Sims x Martin K. Blackwood x Tim Stoker, Georgie Barker x Melanie King
Projekt: Das Waisenhaus
Prompt: [#_3504] Just remember in the winter/Far beneath the bitter snows/Lies the seed that with the sun's love/In the spring becomes the rose
Abstract der gesamten Geschichte:
Jon Sims and Tim Stoker will be friends with Martin K. Blackwood for two months, one week, two days and eleven hours. This fanfiction is the comprehensive account of their friendship. From A to Z.
A Jonmartim Advent Calendar.
Türchen: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |
Abstract:
In which Melanie dares Jon to get a date for Christmas.
Anmerkung:
So, this happened because I rewatched A to Z, Pushing Daisies and at least ten different Christmas movies in a too short amount of time.
I'm writing this as December progresses, so the possibility I won't keep up posting every day is ... high. But y'know, this is for me to unwind, so: Hope you enjoy.
PS: This is really self-indulgent, there will be no slow-burn, everything will be really soft and fluff, the chapters will definitely be all over the place length-wise and I do not have a beta.
CN: alcohol, food, Martin-typical loneliness
“You need a date, Jon,” Georgie repeats, exasperation clear in her voice. It's probably the fifth time she has said it. (Sixth, actually, Jon has counted every single reiteration.) “I don't care if it's platonic or romantic or if you bring a complete stranger. But you can’t come on your own.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, gaze unwavering.
Jon, however, is not going to back down. Not this time. (Not like all the other times before.) She can't force him, can she? What is she going to do? Leave him out in the cold on Christmas Eve? That would be downright cruel, wouldn't it?
“G, let him be,” Melanie suddenly intercepts, before Jon has the chance to reply. “Even if he wanted to, he couldn't get a date of he begged. Who would he bring? The Admiral?”
So far, Melanie had been quietly ignoring Georgie's stubborn insistence and Jon's vehement refusal, their whole heated argument. Jon wishes she would have kept that to herself, too.
“I could get a date,” Jon insists, all spikes and spite and spicules, “easily. I just don't want to.” He shifts his weight, throws a daring glance towards Melanie. She's far too comfortable in her sweatpants and What the Ghost?!-shirt that obviously belongs to Georgie. (Jon knows for a fact that Melanie owns the very same shirt in her own size. When Jon is around, however, Melanie seems to be unable to find a single shirt belonging to her. Curious that is.)
“Oh, we all know you don't want to,” Georgie shoots back, „you keep saying so.” Her fingertips tap on her upper arm in an open displa, of impatience.
“And yet you can't let it go” Jon retorts triumphantly, but it feels like a hollow victory, shallow taste on his tongue. (There's nothing to be proud of. Except maybe for the fact that Jon almost let slip that, actually, he does know what a meme is. But Melanie doesn't need to know. Melanie doesn't need to know anything ever, really.)
Melanie, still more absorbed into her Pokémon game than the actual conversation, says: “It's not embarrassing to admit that even if you wanted, you wouldn't find a single person interested to spend the evening with you, which is why every time you're invited somewhere, you bring my girlfriend. And I'm tired of it.”
Puffing up his chest in indignation, Jon opens his mouth to tell Melanie where she can shove this kind of accusations, when Georgie intervenes: “You know I don't have anything against going with you to events and such.“ She breathes in deeply, and out, before she continues. “But Melanie is my plus one, so I can't. And we need an even number of guests. So, if you can't bring anyone, you can't come.”
“I'll bring someone,” Jon says, finally. Even though he himself doesn't believe it either. “I'm going to bring a date.”
This is the first time, Melanie looks up from her GameBoy Colour, smirking, and says: “I'd pay to see that.”
”How much?” Jon crosses his arms in front of his chest. Up until now he thought he could maybe agree to Georgie's, frankly, inhumane conditions and back out shortly before Christmas itself, so that Georgie would have already planned the festivity with him and would lift the ban on singles because she would have felt bad for making Jon go through the horrifying ordeal of searching for a date. Now? Jon's pretty sure Melanie directly attacked Jon's honour.
The Sinho region theme is way too loud for any real silence, but Jon is still able to hear the rustling of fabric as Melanie shifts on the couch. The smirk on her lips dims a little when she asks: ”What?”
”How much would you pay to see me coming with a date?” Jon repeats unwaiveringly.
Melanie purses her lips, forehead furrowed in thought. Then she throws a glance in Georgie's direction, before answering: ”I could really use twenty-five pounds, so prepare to pay up.”
”Does Melanie even have twenty-five pounds?” The question's directed at Georgie who's obviously pondering putting an end to this line of discussion. Jon's not sure if it's his apparent bristled expression or her wanting to continue their game of Scrabble, but she nods in a theatrical display of defeat.
Melanie lazily throws a cushion in Jon's direction, but misses by far. For a moment she looks like she's contemplating throwing a second one, but then she seems to decide that she's got more important things to do than bully Jon.
”You're on, King,” he says and realises a little too late using her last name wasn't as big an insult as he thought.
”Glad I can make sure your Christmas present for me is actually useful for once,” Melanie answers, and he can hear her smirking more than he can actually see it.
Before he's able to say anything back, however, Georgie lays irony and Jon's attention snaps back to their game.
Fandom: The Magnus Archives
Relationships: Jon Sims x Martin K. Blackwood x Tim Stoker, Georgie Barker x Melanie King
Projekt: Das Waisenhaus
Prompt: [#_3504] Just remember in the winter/Far beneath the bitter snows/Lies the seed that with the sun's love/In the spring becomes the rose
Abstract der gesamten Geschichte:
Jon Sims and Tim Stoker will be friends with Martin K. Blackwood for two months, one week, two days and eleven hours. This fanfiction is the comprehensive account of their friendship. From A to Z.
A Jonmartim Advent Calendar.
Türchen: | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |
Abstract:
In which Melanie dares Jon to get a date for Christmas.
Anmerkung:
So, this happened because I rewatched A to Z, Pushing Daisies and at least ten different Christmas movies in a too short amount of time.
I'm writing this as December progresses, so the possibility I won't keep up posting every day is ... high. But y'know, this is for me to unwind, so: Hope you enjoy.
PS: This is really self-indulgent, there will be no slow-burn, everything will be really soft and fluff, the chapters will definitely be all over the place length-wise and I do not have a beta.
CN: alcohol, food, Martin-typical loneliness
“You need a date, Jon,” Georgie repeats, exasperation clear in her voice. It's probably the fifth time she has said it. (Sixth, actually, Jon has counted every single reiteration.) “I don't care if it's platonic or romantic or if you bring a complete stranger. But you can’t come on your own.” She crosses her arms in front of her chest, gaze unwavering.
Jon, however, is not going to back down. Not this time. (Not like all the other times before.) She can't force him, can she? What is she going to do? Leave him out in the cold on Christmas Eve? That would be downright cruel, wouldn't it?
“G, let him be,” Melanie suddenly intercepts, before Jon has the chance to reply. “Even if he wanted to, he couldn't get a date of he begged. Who would he bring? The Admiral?”
So far, Melanie had been quietly ignoring Georgie's stubborn insistence and Jon's vehement refusal, their whole heated argument. Jon wishes she would have kept that to herself, too.
“I could get a date,” Jon insists, all spikes and spite and spicules, “easily. I just don't want to.” He shifts his weight, throws a daring glance towards Melanie. She's far too comfortable in her sweatpants and What the Ghost?!-shirt that obviously belongs to Georgie. (Jon knows for a fact that Melanie owns the very same shirt in her own size. When Jon is around, however, Melanie seems to be unable to find a single shirt belonging to her. Curious that is.)
“Oh, we all know you don't want to,” Georgie shoots back, „you keep saying so.” Her fingertips tap on her upper arm in an open displa, of impatience.
“And yet you can't let it go” Jon retorts triumphantly, but it feels like a hollow victory, shallow taste on his tongue. (There's nothing to be proud of. Except maybe for the fact that Jon almost let slip that, actually, he does know what a meme is. But Melanie doesn't need to know. Melanie doesn't need to know anything ever, really.)
Melanie, still more absorbed into her Pokémon game than the actual conversation, says: “It's not embarrassing to admit that even if you wanted, you wouldn't find a single person interested to spend the evening with you, which is why every time you're invited somewhere, you bring my girlfriend. And I'm tired of it.”
Puffing up his chest in indignation, Jon opens his mouth to tell Melanie where she can shove this kind of accusations, when Georgie intervenes: “You know I don't have anything against going with you to events and such.“ She breathes in deeply, and out, before she continues. “But Melanie is my plus one, so I can't. And we need an even number of guests. So, if you can't bring anyone, you can't come.”
“I'll bring someone,” Jon says, finally. Even though he himself doesn't believe it either. “I'm going to bring a date.”
This is the first time, Melanie looks up from her GameBoy Colour, smirking, and says: “I'd pay to see that.”
”How much?” Jon crosses his arms in front of his chest. Up until now he thought he could maybe agree to Georgie's, frankly, inhumane conditions and back out shortly before Christmas itself, so that Georgie would have already planned the festivity with him and would lift the ban on singles because she would have felt bad for making Jon go through the horrifying ordeal of searching for a date. Now? Jon's pretty sure Melanie directly attacked Jon's honour.
The Sinho region theme is way too loud for any real silence, but Jon is still able to hear the rustling of fabric as Melanie shifts on the couch. The smirk on her lips dims a little when she asks: ”What?”
”How much would you pay to see me coming with a date?” Jon repeats unwaiveringly.
Melanie purses her lips, forehead furrowed in thought. Then she throws a glance in Georgie's direction, before answering: ”I could really use twenty-five pounds, so prepare to pay up.”
”Does Melanie even have twenty-five pounds?” The question's directed at Georgie who's obviously pondering putting an end to this line of discussion. Jon's not sure if it's his apparent bristled expression or her wanting to continue their game of Scrabble, but she nods in a theatrical display of defeat.
Melanie lazily throws a cushion in Jon's direction, but misses by far. For a moment she looks like she's contemplating throwing a second one, but then she seems to decide that she's got more important things to do than bully Jon.
”You're on, King,” he says and realises a little too late using her last name wasn't as big an insult as he thought.
”Glad I can make sure your Christmas present for me is actually useful for once,” Melanie answers, and he can hear her smirking more than he can actually see it.
Before he's able to say anything back, however, Georgie lays irony and Jon's attention snaps back to their game.