boushards

just thinking about jon fainting and elias catching him before anyone else even realises what’s happening because elias Knows that jon has passed out the split second he begins to fall. the concerned way that elias says his name as he’s coming to lying on the floor is enough to convince jon that he is actually going to die from embarrassment over the whole ordeal.

massive fan of jon being drawn to elias in a way that he cannot explain and absolutely despising him for it. jon feels at home in elias’s office and for some reason it angers him. he hates that he comes up with excuses to linger at elias’s side for a little while longer. he finds comfort in the fact that elias too is prone to staying late, and when elias inevitably comes to escort him out of the building, jon ends up snapping at him not because he’s overworked and exhausted, but because the idea of elias and comfort coexisting within the same thought sets him on edge. every time he walks into a crowded room at the institute he instinctively searches for elias as soon as he’s through the door, helpless in the face of elias’s gravitational pull, and when they make eye contact, jon loathes that it seems to steady him, somehow.

post-coffin jon and daisy going to a park to cloud watch together and remind themselves that there is, in fact, an up. they lie next to each other in silence, feeling the grass in between their fingers, the breeze against their skin, the sun on their faces, and begin to breathe in sync without realising it.

jon going into work sick and refusing to listen to any of his assistants when they tell him that he really should think about taking the rest of the day off, until elias comes down to the archives with the express purpose of standing in jon’s office doorway, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised in obvious disapproval. no words are even spoken, but it doesn’t take jon long to excuse himself after that, and elias shakes his head with a bemused kind of fondness as he leaves.

submitted a bunch of stuff to my supervisors yesterday so i’m taking a day off. going to slowly return to a wip which i wrote quite a lot of at the end of last year before burnout really got me and which i was super excited about at the time. have been thinking about how i could lengthen it out a bit, but honestly plotting is my weakest point of craft and i have no idea how anyone even does it. i am always so impressed with people’s ability to just… sit down and write a coherent story. it’s always like pulling teeth for me, and i never really get what i want out of any plotting exercise. nevertheless, it’s iced coffee time.

sometimes, when elias has had a particularly long day, he ends his texts to jon as if he’s signing off an email and jon teases him mercilessly for it every single time it happens. imagining jon getting a text that ends in ‘yours, E. B.’ and snorting into his hand before replying with something just as formal and then promptly telling elias that he’s a hypocrite and should close outlook some time this century.

the fact that og elias was specifically reminded of his father when looking into jonah’s eyes is sickening tbh. he admits that he’s more terrified of jonah than anything else he’s ever experienced during his interview in mag 193, even his own brush with the supernatural. the judgement and the contempt and the knowing which elias finds there, peeling back all of his layers and leaving only the pathetic truth. his dad must have been an absolute piece of work.

given how boring and unremarkable canon implies elias’s outfits are, i imagine that the very first time jon saw him out of anything remotely resembling office wear was quite the experience. they accidentally bump into each other at work on a sunday and jon can’t for the life of him focus on what elias is saying because he’s far too busy taking in the fact that elias is dressed in washed-out jeans and a very soft looking v-neck. he just ends up nodding along to whatever is coming out of elias’s mouth and definitely misses the way elias smiles as he does so.

there is a walled courtyard at the back of jon and elias’s house. it’s small, made cramped by the outdoor table and chairs, but in the early summer mornings, it’s jon’s favourite place in the world. he sits with one leg propped up, resting his chin on it as he thumbs the pages of whatever academic tome is his poison of choice that day, listening to the wind rustle the wisteria which hangs low above his head. some mornings he loses himself in the scratching of his pen against paper, and other mornings he just sits, blinking in the sunlight. if he leans forward far enough, he can peer into the shaded kitchen, where elias goes about his own morning ritual of setting a pot of coffee on the hob, a look of contentment on his face as his soft whistling harmonises with the birds.

elias smoothing over the creases in jon’s tie with practiced fingers, shaking his head in feigned exasperation as he straightens it out, only to wind the fabric around his hand and yank jon in for a kiss. can anyone hear me.

jon being a certified yapper is actually perfect in a jonelias context because it gives elias a reason to unabashedly stare at jon whilst he rants about amino acids or the tube strike or the underwhelming book he finished yesterday without it seeming untoward in the slightest. elias is being polite. honest.

the season 1 archive crew are forced through some cruel twist of fate to invite elias to their weekly pub quiz night and he decides to mess with them by suggesting a plausible but very much incorrect answer to absolutely every question. they end up with their worst score to date.

the choice to have mag 100 be mostly statements that are about the supernatural but are in no way scary or unnerving and then to turn around and have Peter fucking Lukas - a very real threat who comes across as the complete opposite in a charming, disarming sort of way - show up in the last five minutes of the ep just to schlorp some poor unsuspecting guy straight into the Lonely is perhaps one of the most hysterical writing choices ever made.

i desperately need jon to have a breakdown in front of elias. like i’m talking clenched fists, fingernails digging in to his hands so hard that they draw blood, grit teeth, tiny choked sobs working their way out of his throat, jon trembling all over from the force of them. jon fighting so hard not to let elias see him break, not to let elias hear the way his voice cracks when he says elias’s name, all whilst knowing that it will be inevitable anyway. jon reaching a hand out towards elias but finding only empty air and the sight of elias watching him, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.