Martin has always had issues with taking pictures of himself. It probably comes as no surprise that he’s more than a little insecure about his looks; he knows he’s heavyset and pale and his hair is an awkward mix of red and brown that his mother told him washes him out. So, of course, taking photos of himself is always a challenge. And choosing photos of himself to put on an online dating profile is even harder.
The photo he does settle on for his profile picture is more blurry than not, but he likes the way his smile looks in it and it’s the only photo that doesn’t make him nauseous to upload. The rest of the photos he includes conveniently leave his (round, soft jawed, uneven) face out of view, focusing instead on things like his hands and his jumpers. He doesn’t have any group photos with people, either, that he’s particularly keen on putting up. There’s one from a night out with the archival staff that he thinks he looks halfway decent in, but he’s stuffed under Tim’s shoulder. Greek god, jawline that could cut diamond, endlessly charming Tim, so he decidedly leaves that photo out.
What he ends up with is an awkward profile devoid of clear photos of him but overflowing with personality in the written sections. Which, he decides, is a good representation of him as a person, anyway, so he hits save and doesn’t look back. If nothing comes of it then so be it, but at least he’s tried.
Yeah.
––
Jonathan Sims is not a ‘dating app’ sort of man. In fact, he’s turned his nose up at friends who’ve used the ridiculous applications in the past, not-so-silently judging them for their borderline desperation. It just seems like a bit of a farce; you put up pictures that are supposed to entice people into wanting to talk to you, but half the time the only thing they’re interested in is sex. And even if they’re not immediately opening with thinly-veiled innuendo, the conversations are awkward and stilted at best. Tim has loudly shared enough of his messages in the archives break room for Jon to be more than sure that he wants no part of this dating app nonsense.
And yet, Jonathan Sims has a dating profile. He didn’t know he had one, not before Georgie had texted him a screenshot of his profile on Tinder with just the caption “?!?!?!?!?!” and a slew of uninterpretable letters and symbols. The revelation comes as quite a shock to him, as does the fact that he’s apparently a Tinder+ member. He quickly checks his bank account online to make sure his funds aren’t being used for this ridiculous endeavor, but it seems whoever set up this account is using their own money.
The fact that his profile photo is a sloppily edited picture of his Magnus ID badge and the rest of the pictures have clearly been taken within the archives itself gives him a good idea of who the culprit is, though.
––
“Ooh, Sash! We’ve got another match! And whoo boy does this one look promising.”
Sasha perks her head up from where she was curled over her computer, brushing errant braids away from her face, to make a face at Tim.
“Are you sure? Because last time you said that they opened with ‘if you were a fruit you’d be a fineapple’ and then a bunch of pineapple and eggplant emojis. So, like, I’ve sort of lost my confidence in your definition of promising.”
“Aww c’mon, eggplant emoji users deserve love too! Besides, this one seems perfectly respectable. His profile is about poetry.” Tim waves her over and Sasha crosses with a sigh to read the profile over his shoulder, flopping her arms around his neck.
“Martin, 29, likes tea, poetry, and cows…” She squints at the profile and leans in further to see, ignoring Tim’s squawk when they nearly overbalance. “What’s with that profile picture? You can barely see his face!”
“Yes, well,” Tim says, righting his chair so they’re no longer leaning dangerously. “Jon doesn’t seem particularly concerned with looks anyway, so I’m sure it doesn’t matter.” Sasha shoots him a look and Tim shrugs. “What? He said he wasn’t ‘as invested as all that’ when I was probing about his dating life, so I’m sure he’ll like this Martin no matter what they look like.”
“Tim, he’s ace not blind. What other photos does the profile have up?”
The two of them click through the profile, skimming the long paragraphs of text and swiping through the few photos. Sasha pulls back, her hands on her hips.
“Y’know, I’d say this seems suspiciously similar to another Martin we know.” She tips her head to the breakroom where their Martin is currently eating his lunch. “But the ages don’t match and he doesn’t seem the type to lie about that sort of thing on a dating app.”
“Ooh, do you think someone’s catfishing as him and just got the age wrong? I mean, our Martin doesn’t look 33, I can see how someone would mess that up. Plus all the photos are intentionally vague! Maybe he’s being–”
“Tim.”
“What?”
“No one’s catfishing as Martin.”
“We’re catfishing as Jon,” he points out. This earns him a glare.
“No, we’re setting up a profile for Jon. There’s a difference.”
“Is there really, because–”
“Just swipe right on the profile and get on with it, will you? Jon can decide for himself if he likes him when we hand over the account.”
Tim pouts as Sasha returns to her desk and blows him a kiss.
“Whatever. I still totally think this ‘Martin’ is a catfish.”
ANON, I LOVE THIS SO MUCH
And i love the idea of Martin having a cute pic with Tim. Had such a hard time sketching it out cuz my hands were shaking so much out of excitement - THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR WRITING IT!
If you'd like me to credit you please let me know!
(And i'm totally keeping the "likes tea, poetry, and cows", so cute)
[Image ID: Picture of Tim embracing Martin with one arm over his shoulder. They are both smiling, though Martin in a bit shy manner. End ID]




