The cat mmrps in their lap and butts their head against their hand. “Yes, yes, I’m petting you, don’t worry,” they say, resuming what must be their earlier petting. They look back up at Martin, and gesture halfheartedly towards their stack of books. “I, er. Had a bit of trouble, deciding.”
Martin chuckles. “So you got the cat to help you choose?”
“Well, the cat has a name,” Jon informs him in their most esteemed professional voice, “and a very fine one at that. Pangur Bán is the official defender of this bookshop, and he is very good at his job.”
That… sure is a name. “Uh. Pardon?”
“Pangur Bán - you know, the, er, ninth-century Irish abbot’s cat?” Jon asks him this, innocently, as if this is a question to which Martin should reasonably answer yes.
woke up and realized today is Jon Sims and Cats Day, so I figured I’d illustrate one of my favourite scenes from my fic one foot in sea, one on shore! it is. so late at night where I am oops
[ID: a picture of Jonathan Sims from The Magnus Archives petting a cat in front of a window in a secondhand bookstore. Jon is a thin brown person with long, dark hair, angular glasses, and slight freckles, wearing a dark sage cardigan and dark trousers. Sat in their lap is a fluffy cat so dark black its only discernible features are its big, round yellow eyes with wide pupils, staring directly at the viewer. Jon also looks at the viewer with a softly surprised expression, one leg perched on the seat and the other hanging down towards the floor. On one side sits a stack of books, and on the other rests their cane. Behind him through translucent glass is a small-town street punctuated with leafy green trees, where the bright sunlight shines across their shoulders. Framing them on each side of the image are bookshelves, and dust motes float through the air. End description.]
first time im posting art on here, so take some jon and the admiral doodles
edit: forgot to mention i drew this for jon sims and cats day hosted by @jonsimsandcats
[ID: Three pencil sketches of Jon Sims with the Admiral. Jon is a thin brown man with his hair in a bun. First, he sleeps on his desk with the Admiral curled in front of him. Second, he looks backwards with a tired expression to where the Admiral is happily sleeping on his back and says, “… right.” Third, he and the Admiral look in the same direction, with the Admiral perching on Jon’s shoulder. A speech bubble says, “They’re judging you.” End ID (ID originally by @princess-of-purple-prose since i forgot to write one, sorry!!)]
[ID: Grayscale art of Jon Sims with a cat. He is soaking wet and seems to be standing in a doorway as it rains. He is holding an equally soaked cat who has big blank eyes. Jon looks very tired and annoyed. End ID]
oh it was @jonsimsandcats day? perfect time to post my piece for @tapesdidntcatchzine! i had a lot of fun working on this & the zine as a whole so please check it out here if you haven’t already :)))))
[ID: TMA fanart of Jon Sims in his office, surrounded by cats. One curls up on his lap, and Jon has a soft smile as he pets another sitting on his desk. Two more cats play on the floor. Sasha, Tim, and Jon poke their heads through the door, stacked on top of each other. Tim and Sasha are smiling, and Martin looks flustered. End ID]
The cat mmrps in their lap and butts their head against their hand. “Yes, yes, I’m petting you, don’t worry,” they say, resuming what must be their earlier petting. They look back up at Martin, and gesture halfheartedly towards their stack of books. “I, er. Had a bit of trouble, deciding.”
Martin chuckles. “So you got the cat to help you choose?”
“Well, the cat has a name,” Jon informs him in their most esteemed professional voice, “and a very fine one at that. Pangur Bán is the official defender of this bookshop, and he is very good at his job.”
That… sure is a name. “Uh. Pardon?”
“Pangur Bán - you know, the, er, ninth-century Irish abbot’s cat?” Jon asks him this, innocently, as if this is a question to which Martin should reasonably answer yes.
woke up and realized today is Jon Sims and Cats Day, so I figured I’d illustrate one of my favourite scenes from my fic one foot in sea, one on shore! it is. so late at night where I am oops
[ID: a picture of Jonathan Sims from The Magnus Archives petting a cat in front of a window in a secondhand bookstore. Jon is a thin brown person with long, dark hair, angular glasses, and slight freckles, wearing a dark sage cardigan and dark trousers. Sat in their lap is a fluffy cat so dark black its only discernible features are its big, round yellow eyes with wide pupils, staring directly at the viewer. Jon also looks at the viewer with a softly surprised expression, one leg perched on the seat and the other hanging down towards the floor. On one side sits a stack of books, and on the other rests their cane. Behind him through translucent glass is a small-town street punctuated with leafy green trees, where the bright sunlight shines across their shoulders. Framing them on each side of the image are bookshelves, and dust motes float through the air. End description.]
[ID: Cream-toned art of Jon Sims, a thin brown man with long hair. He is lying flat on the floor with his limbs spread out and papers and tapes scattered around him. He is wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, and his right hand is bandaged. The Admiral, a large tabby cat, sits fully over his face and purrs. End ID]
[ID: A digital drawing of Jonathan Sims, a brown Arab man, smiling at a kitten. He has long, black and gray hair pulled into a bun with a mustache to match, brown eyes, stubble, black stud earrings and half-moon glasses on a green beaded chain. He is wearing a black button-down, a green sweater, and a light brown suit jacket. He is resting his chin and hand on the edge of a brown desk, and smiling at a small white and brown kitten on the desk that is tapping his nose with its paw. There is a heart by Jon’s head. end ID]
~~~~
i am. moments late but here. for @jonsimsandcats. jon with Duke Archibald Von Mallow from an au a discord server im in has
And my second fic for @jonsimsandcats day! Set during Season 1 ish, where Jon finds a cat behind the Institute and decides it should live with them in the Archives.
“Tim, did you steal my snacks again?”
“I have never, nor would I ever steal your snacks,” he replied as he lounged at his desk, pointedly eating a crisp from a package that Sasha had brought in earlier that week.
Sasha frowned.
“Something good?”
“Some slices of salami and cheese. Not the end of the world, but why would they only take that? And not this whole salad?”
“I mean, I’d pick cheese over a salad any day,” Tim teased. Then he added, more seriously this time, “That is weird though. Elias will have a field day if he finds out someone is nicking people’s lunches.”
They didn’t have long to wonder at the identity of the thief, however. Tim and Sasha delivered their reports to Jon later that day, but he wasn’t in his office and the door to the exterior of the Institute at the end of the hall was slightly ajar.
“I mean, we’re going to go look, right?” Sasha said, placing her reports on Jon’s desk before heading off to investigate the open door without waiting for Tim’s response.
He dutifully followed suit, and they pushed open the door to find Jon squatting a short distance away.
“Shh!” He cried in a whisper. “Quiet! And move slow.”
Despite their curiosity, Tim and Sasha did as instructed and carefully moved to Jon’s side.
“What’s going on?” Tim asked.
“There’s a cat.”
Sasha rolled her eyes affectionately. “Of course, there’s a cat.”
“I’m trying to lure her out so I can get her to the vet. Looks like there’s a bad scratch on her face.”
Jon gestured to a familiar looking container as he mentioned luring the cat into reach, and Sasha gasped.
“You! You’re the one that took my salami!”
“Shhh!” Jon insisted.
In an accusing whisper, Sasha replied, “You took my snack!”
“I just needed something that might entice the cat,” he admitted. “And I didn’t bring a lunch today, so I thought… I’m sorry. I meant to tell you, and I’ll absolutely pay you back.”
Despite her initial outburst, Sasha couldn’t fault his reasoning. “Listen, if it helps the cat, then it’s alright. Though, it wasgood salami…”
As her voice died down, shimmering eyes appeared in the shadow before them. Jon placed a small piece of salami at the edge of the darkness, and then moved away, urging Sasha and Tim to do the same.
A few moments later, a scraggly grey cat stepped carefully toward the salami, sniffing it intently before gobbling it up. There was indeed a large scratch across her forehead, and she shook her head occasionally as if that would eliminate the pain.
“It’s alright,” Jon cooed as he tossed out a few more pieces of salami. Then, he whispered to Tim and Sasha. “The carrier is just over there. Bring it over.”
Tim quietly gathered the carrier and did his best to keep it out of the cat’s sight as Jon placed the food closer to him. Once Tim was in place, Jon grabbed the cat and shoved it ungracefully into the carrier, though he tried his best to be gentle. Sasha slammed the door shut and latched it closed.
“Hey, good teamwork everyone,” Tim said once the cat was secure.
“Thank you for your help,” Jon added. “And thank you for your salami.” He handed the Tupperware back to Sasha with an apologetic grimace.
“Are we taking her to the vet then, or what?” She asked. “There’s one not far from here.”
Jon smiled and took the carrier from Tim. “Lead on. What do you think we should name her?”
“We? What, are you planning to keep the cat in the Archives?”
“Why not? Surely it’ll be good for morale.”
“Elias is not going to let you get away with that,” Tim laughed.
Jon rebuked, “Martin got to have a dog in the Archives!”
“He didn’t get to keepit in the Archives; he had to catch the thing and take it to a shelter.”
“Technicalities.”
“You do know that you might not get to keep her?” Sasha interjected. “She might have a family and we’ll have to return her.”
“Of course I know that,” Jon said in that hasty sort of backpedaling which indicated he hadn’t even considered that possibility. “But if she doesn’t have a family, I think that the Archives would make a good home for her.”
“Elias still isn’t going to let that happen, mate,” Tim replied, shaking his head while smiling.
“I can handle Elias. None of this is answering the question of what we should name her, assuming we do get to keep her. I’m partial to titles as names for pets. I knew a cat named The Admiral once, and he deserved that rank and status.”
“Why not just call her the Archivist, then?” Sasha suggested. “Since she might be joining us in the Archives.”
“Name her Gertrude – she’s already got grey hair,” Tim offered, and Sasha scoffed.
“Don’t insult the poor kitty like that!”
They continued to debate the merit of different names and titles for the cat as they continued on their way to the vet. Jon was most concerned that the cat be returned to full health and reunited with her family, if she had one. If she didn’t… well, then the Archives was as good a place as any, right?
I wrote two pieces for @jonsimsandcats day and here’s the first! Set Somewhere Else.
It was a perfect day for a wedding.
Of course, none of it was how Jon had imagined, so long ago. It wasn’t even the same reality as he used to inhabit, but this Somewhere Else had provided him and Martin more opportunities than he could have predicted. And now, they were getting married.
Jon walked down the aisle, a handful of new friends smiling as he moved past them, until he met Martin at the front of the venue. He could barely even hear the words being spoken, lost as he was in the glow of Martin’s smile and the joyful tears that hovered at the corners of his eyes.
That is, until he heard a meow.
“Lieutenant, not yet.” Jon shushed the cat that sat on a stool behind him.
“Meow.”
Jon turned back to Martin, who was chuckling to himself. He had been surprisingly acquiescent when Jon suggested having their cat play the role of ring bearer, and even more accommodating when Jon decided to dress the Lieutenant up in a tiny suit, complete with miniature boutonniere.
The Lieutenant remained silent, tail swishing as he perched on the stool until it was his time to shine.
“Thank goodness you haven’t lost them,” Jon murmured to the cat as he removed the rings from the small pouch on his back. The first attempts at fitting the Lieutenant into the suit and keeping the rings in the pouch had been disastrous, until Jon added a sturdy fastener and a heaping of Velcro to make sure neither cat nor jewelry escaped.
He offered another “Meow” as Jon grabbed the rings and gave him an appreciative scritch between the ears.
Jon and Martin put their wedding bands on the other and then they kissed to close out the ceremony. Both were lost in the bliss of the moment, the peace and surety that they had survived unbearable odds, and they had survived together.
Martin was fully weeping now, and Jon wiped the tears from his face before a weight thudded on his shoulder, claws sinking through his tux to get a good grip.
“Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten you,” Martin said, laughing.
Jon grabbed the Lieutenant off his shoulder and cupped him gently in one arm, giving him a quick kiss, before lacing his other arm through Martin’s so that they could exit back down the aisle. They wouldn’t stop grinning for days.
Meanwhile, the Lieutenant watched the afterparty play out, and enjoyed the fine cushion someone had placed for him and the hors d’oeuvres that the waiters kept bringing him. It was adorable that his people thought this ceremony was for them. Clearly, the Lieutenant had received a promotion, if only for the night. Why else would Jon have put him in this ridiculous outfit?
Watching his people dance, the Lieutenant settled in on the cushion. Perhaps it was time for a nap? After all, it was his party – he could do what he wanted, and they would gather him up when it was time to leave. Until then, he would sit back, relax, snack, and enjoy the show.
