#.ೃ࿔ ✈︎ *:･𖤓 mgghoney

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 801

summary// what happened to kissing the homies happy new year?

"I heard you kissed a fan for the new years kiss."

You look up at your phone when Matt doesn't respond, and you slide open your drawer when you notice he's thinking.

"I did. On the forehead."

You rummage through your desk, blinking quietly when you realize you can't find what you're looking for.

"I saw photos... of her, I mean. Not of the kiss." You hum. "Every now and then the fan in me kicks at my rationality."

"Did you want one?"

"Don't go asking me that." You slide your hand to the parts you can't see, frowning when it isn't there either. "I don't know how you manage to be simultaneously the sweetest celebrity I know yet lack so many typical boundaries."

"I don't think it's a lack."

"I know it isn't. The universe returns the kindness you show others tenfold." You finally look up at the call, and Matt's got a brow raised as you huff at what he's holding. "I left it with you?"

"On accident. I've been making full use of the camera." He hums. "I'll return it to you with a new roll of film as long as you develop it for me."

"Of course." You nod. "That makes a lot more sense, actually."

"Oh, and another thing. Don't go—"

"sending them to other people. I know."

"No, I was gonna say you can post most of them except one."

"Will you tell me which one?"

"You'll know."

"I'm bracing myself for unsolicited dick pics right now." You roll your eyes, finding another camera as you dig through your tote. "H...uh? Oh, you swapped cameras with me!? I didn't even notice."

"I bought it back when it was newly on sale. Mine's all beat up."

"That means it's well loved." You hum, fingers smoothing over the yellow of the camera, raising a brow at the screen as Matt locks eyes with you.

"I'm excited to see what you do with it."

You laugh, tugging the drawer back open as you toss out a handful of folders, tweezers in hand as you raise a brow at him. "Yeah?"

"Expect a bit of love on yours too."

"Like biting or photos wise?" You pause to stare at the camera. "A 2016 model is kind of rare."

"I found it in Japan while out."

"Ah." You hum. "I should make you get me one next time you're there."

"You won't come with me?"

"Studying abroad is gonna cost me an arm and a leg. I'm already barely grazing by with my aid right now. Well, if you even count that as aid. My fault for picking New York." You huff, finger smoothing down the color on the dents.

"I suppose." Matt taps at the screen to get your attention, and you look up from the sheets strewn around you. "When do you fly back?"

"Why? You won't even meet up with me at the airport since we're in different cities."

"So I know when to send you stuff."

"Don't you have more recording in LA?"

"Mm, you never know where the wind brings you."

"I hope the wind blows me to early retirement." You mumble. "Doing what I love for a living would be nice too. Maybe I should mail Anderson some fanmail and beg for an internship."

"You want a call?"

"It'd be unfair to do that." You tap your desk, glancing at the tweezers. "Well, not unfair. I'll see where the wind takes me too."

"Is it sunny?"

"Here? Always." You pull the shades and let the sun spill in, humming quietly to yourself as you laugh. "Is it sunny there?"

"You know it is." He picks up his phone to walk you over to the back door, stepping out to stand in the sun.

"I bet the film will turn out super nice." You hum. "Stay still. I want a photo."

"Still thinking about starting that fanpage for me?"

"You want me to? The twitter fanpages but for you? A "what's MGG up to today?" account?" You look at the photos on your phone, and you hum. "You already have an update account. I don't need to use our friendship to tell others."

"I respect their dedication." His lip quirks upwards, and you laugh.

"I do too."

"So? I'm sure you're not just calling to talk to me about my new years kiss."

"Oh, yeah. I had a couple of questions for the story."

"I'm more than willing to answer them. I respect the dedication."

"What are we all if not dedicated to the bit?"

"Is this where the wind is taking you?"

"Yeah." You turn on the camera to snap a photo of him, humming quietly as you beam at him. "What am I if not living to entertain?"

"Living to enjoy, perhaps."

"Always."

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 488

summary// where the sun beams at you, bright and sugared, honeyed and kind

"you know, if I had a dollar for each time I've seen you go through it on this show I'd be rich."

Matt breaks out into a laugh on the other side of the call, lips quirking up and head tilting affectionately as he hums.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. The drug thing, the anthrax thing, the dead girlfriend thing, the jail thing... let's not even talk about the people who just keep leaving. It's a gift that just keeps on giving or whatever it's called." You pause. "It's like Spencer is just an OC and you're enjoying torturing him."

When Matt goes quiet on the line, you roll your eyes.

"At least you never die."

"Been pretty close."

"Twice." You tap the desk slowly, and you sigh. "Well, at least you're making out with people in your other roles."

"Not exactly torture, huh?"

"Yeah." You mumble.

He glances at your background, raising a brow at the gloominess. "You're back home early."

"Start in two weeks." You hum. "Wanted to be back in my apartment while no one's home."

"That's not super safe."

"I have security." You wave your hand. "Come visit me sometime?"

"I'll drop by when I'm back. Promise."

"I'd like my camera back soon." Your lip quirks up, and he sighs.

"No can do. I'm on the last roll of the box I bought for you."

You feign hurt, holding your chest as you huff.

"I promise the photos look good."

"Are they of family? My camera's pretty bad. It was clearly made more for aesthetics than use."

"Well, we all start somewhere."

"You used flash, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright." You mumble, glancing at your screen as you continue the show. "Oh, Canada episode."

"Ah, the pigs." He hums. "Remember it being pretty morbid."

"Way to spoil it for me." You grumble.

"...what."

You watch the color drain out of Matt's face, and you throw your head back in laughter, hand over your mouth as you pause the episode to disappear from the camera to under your desk.

"How'd you not get spoiled with that episode?"

"I'm kidding. I saw the pigpen scene before I even knew it. I didn't realize it was this one." You settle back in your seat, tilting your head as Matt stops mid-walk to talk to someone, and you go back to the episode.

You stay quiet despite knowing that Matt probably has you in an earbud. If you wanted to, you could speak up, but you find simple pleasures in watching Matt beam at his fans and light up the room.

You pause the video to smile with him.

A bright ray of sun in a gloomy city you both call home.

When he unmutes, you quirk a brow up at his stare.

"Hm?"

"Sorry. Just saw the sun flash at me."

He beams at you, and you laugh.

"You wanna see it again?"

"Always."

And the sun beams at you once more.

[mgghoney]

pairing// matthew gray gubler and reader || wc// 1,391

summary// someone always meets someone somewhere... just a matter of where

you recall very little moments when you had flashed past someone in the streets of new york and recognized them.

Well. few wouldn't quite be the right word. You recall bumping into random tiktokers and street interviewers, and on occasion when it was fashion week you'd find a model or two with shades and a mask on, but outside of that, the streets of New York were too busy for you to recognize people on the streets.

You keep a folder with a short story tucked in your tote for a specific New York resident, but you doubt you'll ever get to see him in the crowds of work. You doubt you'd be graced with the alumni from your university in the city that he supposedly stays in for the most part, but it doesn't stop you from carrying it around.

A digital camera, a folder of love, pens and journals, a device, and a second film camera for quiet moments when the sun hits right in the weed-strewn park next to university. Quiet mornings when the cold nips at your nose playfully as you fumble to get your scarf to your nose with a furrow of your brows and slipping of your cameras back into your bag, but it doesn't stop you from trying to observe mornings where the skyscrapers block your view of the sun on your way to morning classes that feel like hell or whatnot.

You think you understand a little more why your favorite resident chooses to fly everywhere he needs to despite having no need to stay here.

It's a mess, yes. Rats carrying pizza in the subways, smell of ammonia in certain regions of the city, tourists weaving in and out of the timeless square, but it's busy for a reason. You find that despite it all, the city is still home because of how busy it is.

The night ends late, and the day starts early.

You wonder if you could wake up in some strange universe in which you'd have enough joy to start your morning as nicely as he seems to start his, but you're not him, alas.

Being moderately delusional with that folder of love that sits in a tote bag as you drink coffee you force yourself to wake up early to make because the ones in New York cost less of a sweet treat and more of a small reward.

But you embrace the strangeness of living in a city that everyone knows, ID card swiped and icy breath in the air as you scrunch your nose further into the scarf as your shoulders relax in the heater of the buildings. You barely notice the strangeness of arriving earlier than usual, and you pause to consider just what you should do with the surplus of time, but you don't really need to think too hard.

It doesn't take an eureka moment for you to sit down and settle back in the warmth of one of the chairs to flip open your notebook.

You write, world at your hands, beauty at the tips of your fingers as you look up to stare at a classmate who's settled themselves across the hall from you, and you create. Quiet eyes brought to life and headphones shaded, so little that tells so much.

You don't know if you quite have that kind of imagination, but you try to take everything lightly. Criticism can be ground into dust to combine into something of more use, and a candle can be lit in the strangeness of the dark to act as a guide to somewhere with light.

The absence of light is something you don't fear, strangely enough.

You think you reflect a lot while you don't at other times. It isn't something on your mind when the dark falls over the city and the lights spark to life, and it isn't something that you really consider when you have headphones on and pass people on the street to get to —

oh

oh.

oh!

You stop on your heel and turn around, name tumbled out like you've just found an old friend, heaving as you call, nearly sliding onto your ass when you finally do get him to stop, familiar smile from photos you've seen as your shoulders sink and your breathing stems from your diaphram to catch what you lost.

"Matt." You pant, eyes sparkling with strange life as you catch your breath, face warm and no doubt flushed from nearly sliding, but you gasp. "Sorry, huge fan. Is it alright if I call you that?"

He's wonderfully sweet, sorrys strewn on your lips as you apologize for startling him and you ask for a photo with him, and you beam impossibly brighter, cheeks warm from laughing as he rambles with you, and you learn that your favorite resident in the city of dreams is just as wonderful as you had hoped, and when you find that he's ready to let go, you hand him one final souvenir from your tote bag, apologizing that you didn't have anything to let him hold it with, but giving it to him nonetheless.

"A small gift from my universe to yours." You tell him, waving as you both turn, and you think you've made your point and fulfilled your tale.

It didn't quite matter what you didn't want to do anymore. If you could tough through the complexity of your strange enamoration with your favorite resident that you'd admit perhaps wasn't too healthy and perhaps lightly parasocial, you could perhaps tough through everything, even if it meant the quiet tilting of a head of curiosity as you had handed him the folder. Perhaps it was how he felt when he had mailed those discs to his favorite director and gotten an internship in response.

The universe has worked in strange ways for him, and you find the same strangeness in your own life on occasion.

You just wonder if it is contagious or the quirk of his own world.

You go on with your day-to-day life, fingers clicking on the apps on your phone, calls with family and friends when you walk home, and you think it's quite strange to no longer feel the comfort of weight in your bag. Yet you find your shoulders hurt less because of it.

You expect to forget about the story and move on, the document tucked somewhere in a forgotten email in the past, embarrassment crawling up your cheeks when you think too hard about it.

It should all be done, and you've passed a small piece of your universe to him, and it should be done.

But it isn't, because when you step foot in the bakery by your apartment, you end up right behind him in line, and you're stuck crying to your universe that perhaps he would forget you had ever handed him a paper file in the digital age.

no, not that you were embarrassed that you'd be recognized by him for such a small act. you'd be embarrassed if that was the only thing he could recall about you.

"It's you!" He mirrors a brightness in your eyes the first time you had met him, and you blink at him as you wait for the next words. "I loved your story."

That makes your shoulders soften, and you scratch at your cheek.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I don't think I've been gifted a personally written story in a while."

"I'm glad." You squeeze your fingers together, gloves hanging off your wrists as he tilts his head with a smile.

"Do you have time?"

You blink at him. "I was planning on getting some work done here, but I suppose it depends?"

"Would you be willing to talk about your story with me?" He stares earnestly, and you think it's a little too much for someone he barely knows. It's a little overwhelming, but you think you should've seen it coming.

When you give to the universe, you suppose it gives back in strange ways.

You shouldn't be as surprised that someone is handing a piece of their universe as a thank you for a piece of yours.

"What do you want to drink? I can pay."

And you suppose his universe gifting yours back just comes in the wonders of allowing you a glimpse into his.

[mgghoney]

sun / sunny || 20+ || taking a hit of that same whimsy of life

3 things to remember before you proceed!

Everything in this blog is work of fiction!

Please read everything as a light read n take nothing seriously

Have lots and lots of fun!!! despite being tagged as x reader its really more of a & reader series <3

𖤓 Sunny Skies UP! -> Whimsicality // MGG & Reader 𖤓

chapter one - favorite resident

chapter two - yellow casio