#but at least people thought i was cooler than maybe?

[toomanyfanficsbruh]

@theroundbartable here you go! Your Sick Fic 2.0

Better Together (I wouldn't leave you even if you wanted me to)

Camelot was calm and peaceful; the air was a little cooler, the grass moved a little slower, and the sun shone just enough, so laying in the gardens was like another world. At least for Merlin, it was like an escape from the rush and hurry of the court, where he had been officiated as the Court Sorcerer, just over two years ago. And those two years felt like a century, another weight on his shoulders after one had just been lifted.

It was not easy, though Merlin had learnt this after the years by Arthur’s side; the weight of the decisions he had to make, the people he had to consider and the overshadowing look of his father. A painting of Uther had been hung in the meeting room after he passed away a year before the magic ban was lifted, but the harsh strokes depicting the judgement in his eyes, became something that watched Arthur’s decisions, as if he were still there, unsure of Arthur’s worth. The first time Merlin saw it, was when Arthur officially lifted the ban and Uther watched, waiting for the next mistake. Lord forbid Merlin was a worse person, he would have taken a dagger and ripped the painting, from corner to corner. He was better than that. Maybe. He wouldn’t have disagreed if someone had accused him of thinking it - he thought it every time he walked into the room, staring Uther down as if he would come back to life. 

Even though Merlin’s duties were extremely different to Arthur’s, there was a certain comfort in knowing that someone understood the pains of court life. Even if it was a surprise to every person who lived in Camelot, it’s not every day you find out that the King’s manservant is the greatest sorcerer ever to live, a dragonlord and would much rather you call him a warlock because he isn’t a sorcerer since he is actually magic itself. Many people fainted that day. Many more people did not believe him. But to Merlin’s surprise, Arthur did not doubt his words and instead asked what he would like done. And also asked if Merlin could do something about the horrid headache he’d been having for the past 4 weeks and as quickly as he could, after all, he was a very powerful sorcerer, and instead got a gorgeous rose placed in his palm. No, it’s not every day that things like that happened, or at least, until the ban had been lifted. Once that happened, flowers bloomed every day and Arthur’s headaches? Well, he wouldn’t tell Merlin about it, in case he worried too much. 

“Merlin! What are you doing laying in the garden, with your crown on?!” Merlin was gifted a circlet from the Druid people - two silver dragons curling around his head - it was quite comfy and nothing like the horrid thing that Arthur had to wear. If only he knew the pleasures of not wearing gold on his head during every meeting, he would definitely be a calmer and kinder person. And of course, if Arthur could remember the name of the circlet, the world would flip on its side. 

Turning onto his stomach, and holding himself up with his elbows, Merlin saw Arthur, watching him from the balcony, “Taking a well-deserved break from whatever was going on in there! And my circlet is quite comfortable on my head, thank you very much!”

If Merlin had started kicking his feet, Arthur would have combusted, right then and there, whether it be from the extreme amount of cuteness that Merlin threw into the air, the exasperation of Merlin leaving his duties or a little tinge of jealousy; Arthur would never tell. At least, he liked to assume he wouldn’t tell, something about the little smile on his face gave him away. 

“If you don’t get back into this throne room this instant, that crown won’t be on your head much longer,” crossing his arms, Arthur stares down at Merlin, cocking an eyebrow and trying his hardest to put on a serious face. It doesn’t really work. It never did when Merlin was involved.

Standing up and stretching, Merlin turns his head to the side, with a twinkle in his eye, “Oh? What will you do? Try it on, maybe? It’s so much better than the preposterous slab of gold you have.”

“I think I’ll ask Gwen to turn it into a paperweight, or maybe a pitcher to replace the one you dropped a few days ago. Much better than you wearing it on your pretty little head, that’s certain.” 

“You think my head’s pretty?”

Recollecting what he said, Arthur puts his hand to his temple and mutters something about being tired or more likely, telling Merlin to shut up.

“You really must stop muttering, I think it’s seeping into your normal voice. Nobody can understand half the things you’re saying.” Merlin appears beside Arthur quite suddenly, even though Arthur’s stopped questioning it - he still gets a bit of a shock.

“I do not mutter.” 

“Mumbling, perhaps. Kingly mumbling, if you’d prefer.” Arthur fixes his crooked circlet as Merlin watches the soft sun rays reflect on Arthur's eyes. Maybe, if he stopped time, just for a moment, he could look at them longer than what was deemed appropriate. He could. But should he, was the question. 

“I would much prefer you didn’t say I mumbled,” doing exactly that, contradicting himself, “I would also prefer you didn’t walk out in the middle of meetings.” He leaned in the smallest amount, “I believe there are some grumpy, old men in there, that are feeling a tad bit jealous.”

Arthur watched Merlin’s mouth creep into a little smile, trying not to laugh too loud, lest the said grumpy, old men heard the noise. Well, they may assume it was a noise, Arthur, on the other hand, thought of it as a stress reliever, a breath of fresh air, a little glimpse of what life without the crown was like. He had mentioned, long ago to Merlin, that he would find a farm and live off his work, had he been given a choice, and of course, Merlin would be taken along, to do the actual work. He knew that without Merlin, he might not be alive, but Arthur would never admit it especially not to Merlin. 

“Sire! They’ve left! You may come inside now!” the sound of the doors closing, and Leon’s tired voice, allowed Arthur to exhale the breath he didn’t know he was holding. A soft pat from Merlin reminded him he should walk back to the room. 

“If I had known you wanted a distraction, I would have brought you out here myself!” 

“Really, Merlin? For what reason?”

Merlin takes a moment, feigning a thought process, because when had he ever really thought about a proper explanation? “I'm sure I would have thought of something, like every other time.”

“And when has that ever worked?”

Turning around to look at each other over the chairs and table in the meeting room, a smile washed over Merlin’s face, “I believe it worked quite well when I was still your manservant. Didn't you believe my excuses?”

“No. I most definitely did not!” Arthur pauses and at an ungodly volume, sneezes.

A few knights turned around and Leon, from the hallway, nearly jumped into another knight. He shook it off and kept walking, he really did not get paid enough for whatever was going on with Arthur and Merlin nor did he care enough to want to find out. 

Merlin stifled a giggle, “I think it's time to start spring cleaning, your Highness, lord forbid you sneeze like that in front of the people. They'd assume a plague was around!”

“I'll get some people onto that immediately,” Arthur heard another giggle from Merlin beside him, “What do you want me to do about it? Get a feather duster and start dusting?”

“Only if you’ve had too much to drink,”  Merlin says under his breath, catching Arthur’s eye a moment too late. 

“What was that?”

“I said, that’s a great idea, don’t you think?”

“Well, yes I believe it’s a good idea, after all I thought of it. But I think it would be better suited for someone like yourself!”

“You want me to dust?”

Arthur scoffs, “It’s better than lounging around in the sun!”

“Now who sounds like a jealous, grumpy, old man?”

They walk together in exact movements, turning the corner without signals, the same footsteps and keeping in time. “Couldn’t you just magic it clean, or something?”

“I could, but relying on magic can be dangerous, and personally, I would much rather the castle didn’t collapse in the middle of the night.” 

“That could happen?” Arthur’s eyes widen in fear. It had been a while since he was frightened, especially with Merlin constantly by his side. 

They reach Arthur’s door when Merlin looks at Arthur with a soft smile to reassure him, “That’s exactly why I don’t use magic for everything. But no, unless the spell specifies that the castle should collapse, then we’re safe. Don’t look so scared!”

“I’m not scared! I’m just…concerned for the people… in case the castle collapses…I want to be ready for anything!” Assuming he was taking deliberate pauses, Arthur thought he sounded thoughtful and wise. Anyone who heard him assumed he was shaking at the knees. Merlin knew he was scared, but decided to let Arthur have his delirious moment of philosophical thought. 

Shaking his head, Merlin turned around to walk to his chambers, “If you say so Arthur. Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow for yet another meeting.” 

“Goodnight Merlin.” Arthur retreats into his room and falls straight onto his welcoming bed. It felt right, to go to bed in his day clothes, slightly suffocated by the amount of pillows that covered the mattress, sink into the warmth and pretend the day was not emotionally exhausting. The only thing missing was another person to hug him. 

Tempting the idea of annoying Merlin with another set of questions, Arthur exhales the deep breath he had been holding, sinking further into the layers. It was a possibility, only Arthur would have to walk to the other wing and he would need a foolproof reason to do so, at this time of night. Originally having offered the chamber next to his, Arthur’s hopes of being slick and nonchalant were truly far from it. Merlin laughed and said that he did not want to deal with Arthur’s snoring and took a room in another wing. 

To be honest, taking a room so far away was not Merlin’s plan, but being put on the spot, shocked and flustered, he didn’t know what to say and instead, in pure Merlin fashion, freaked out. And in Arthur’s defence, he truly did miss Merlin. Not his morning wake-up calls but having casual conversations and spending time with someone as a person and not a regent were Arthur’s favourite moments in his rushed life. Not that either would tell the other the truth, both simply nodded in understanding and tried to make up for whatever happened. 

Merlin would still be the first to see Arthur if he woke up on time and Arthur didn’t leave early, and Arthur would not let a day go by without talking to Merlin unless either of them had to leave on a quest. With their relative constraints, it was not so simple, but unknowingly they both worked at it because truly, one did not work without the other. 

“Good morning sire! I have your breakfast ready and when you allow me, I shall open the curtains!” A peppy voice was exactly what Arthur needed first thing in the morning, alongside a horse in his face, a burnt wooden table and a troll beside him. It was not at all what Arthur wanted, but the new boy he had put in the position could not do much else. He was a bit scared of Arthur and reverted to peppy when he was uncertain. 

And to match the graciousness of his character, his name was Pickles. Because in Camelot, he truly was in a pickle. 

“Good morning Pickles, yes draw the curtains immediately when you arrive, alright? And don’t forget to put ouACHOO!” Again, with the ungodly sneeze, Arthur shocked himself awake. A first for the king. 

“I mean, please put out the rACHOO! The ACHOO! Put out the rACHOO!” Sniffling, Arthur’s relay of sneezes would not end well for anyone in his near vicinity, they were sure to catch whatever he was throwing.

“I understand what you mean sire, do not worry. Shall I call the physician?” Pickles did not understand what Arthur meant. 

Calling Gaius would mean Merlin would find out, and if Merlin were to find out, then Arthur would not be able to do anything for a minimum of eight days. Not that he would complain, but he felt that the people of Camelot would not be entirely joyous. Finding out the King had come down with a fever would push the citizens of Camelot into their houses and keep them there until he issued a notice that everything would be fine. Perhaps it wasn't a bad idea. Eight days of no duty, no people, no questions or queries. And mainly, eight days without any meetings. Such would be the life of Prince Arthur, but unfortunately having taken the crown and responsibility, it was not the life of His Royal Highness Arthur, the Great King of Albion.

"I would rather you didn't call for him, but tell me, Pickles, did you not say you were trained in the basics of physicianing?"

No, it would not end well for Pickles, in any circumstance.

It worked for exactly 12 days and 14 hours. That's what Arthur thought.

In reality, it worked for a little under 4 days and 19 hours. Pickles had been keeping count of every hour.

Every morning, as Arthur woke up he would sneeze at a horrid volume, cough for exactly 13 minutes until he was dressed and head off to his first meeting of the day. Often rundown by a burning headache, he would retire to his room for lunches and dinners, spent with another round of sneezing and coughing. Pickles, with his minimal knowledge of fevers and aches, kept the King quiet and hidden for as long as he could. The main objective of this whole charade was to not let the Court Sorcerer know of the King's illness, lest the King was told something he did not want to hear - bedrest, for anything longer than 8 hours.

It was fine, until the early hours, when the sun had not risen and the start were still shining, on this certain day when the King started sleep-talking in his delirious mind. Well, it was more like sleep-yelling and he only ever said one thing.

"Merlin?"

Pickles rushed around the room, opening and closing windows, adding and removing pillows, wrapping and unwrapping blankets around the King.

"mERlin?"

In his best whisper, Pickles leaned down to the King's ear, "You told me not to wake him, Sire, I believe he would be asleep in his room. Shall I go g-"

"MERLIN!! Where is he?"

"My Lord! I can get him tomorrow if you'd like, but he is currently sleeping. As you should too!" Pickles understood the depth of the events.

"merlin?"

Pickles did not understand the depth of the events. Nor did he know what to do, when the great King of Albion, the most courageous man that anyone had ever heard of, started weeping. Among the plethora of pillows that surrounded his head, Arthur was crying, he was on the brink of despair and self-rot, wallowing in his sadness, since he had not seen his past servant, Court Sorcerer, friend and silent love, for the entirety of the 4 days he was sick. And in Arthur's mind, he had not seen him for 12 days, much longer than it actually was, but much more painful than anyone had known.

In a rush of emotions, Pickles ran as if his life depended on it, which, in theory, was true. If he did not get the Court Sorcerer, the King may die. If he did get the Court Sorcerer, the King could have his head on a platter. But at least Albion would have a King! So, Pickles ran, quicker than he had ever before and knocked on the Court Sorcerer's door, only to be greeted by a sleepy man in his nightrobes, shocked by the circumstances.

Before Pickles brought a chair next to the King, Merlin was seated on the bed beside him. "He needs a cold cloth and water, also we need to remove some of these pillows beside his head! Pickles, did you really think a man with a fever needs to be surrounded by heavy bedsheets?"

"Well, I…"

"No matter for that now, please, hurry!" Merlin looked down at Arthur, with a hand on his head, feeling his temperature, "It's alright Arthur, I'm here, How are you feeling?"

Pickles was sworn to secrecy after this moment, leaving all knowledge of it to the three men in this room.

Arthur, opening his bloodshot sky-blue eyes, stared at Merlin for all of two seconds and fell promptly asleep after stating that he was "better". A ridiculously large grin grew on his face as if he had begun to dream of the house and the farm and the animals he tended to with Merlin, and had just needed to confirm that Merlin would join him. Almost as if he was dangerously close to admitting that he was not falling but rather buried in his love for the Court Sorcerer, and would have announced it to the world, only after he had seen his face.

"Did I kill the King?!" Pickles had a shiver sent down his spine with goosebumps all over his arms, as he looked at Merlin.

A lovely beetroot red flushed over Merlin's face as he looked back down at the sleeping King, almost as if he understood all that Arthur wished to say, preparing for Gaius to tell him that Arthur needed to be kissed to be woken up.

Turning back to Pickles with a soft smile plastered on his tired face, "It's fine Pickles, he just needed to see me."

For once in his career as the King's servant, Pickles understood that it was not a situation for questions or queries, but rather finally time for him to go to bed.

And as he left, he would swear he didn't hear the softest, "I wouldn't leave you, even if you wanted me to" from the Court Sorcerer to his beloved King.

Once Arthur had taken his well-deserved eight rest, all was well. The people of Camelot were not at all stressed by the situation and understood that the King had his duties, leaving warm food by the citadel, and showing their love for their King.

Merlin had stayed by his side the entire time, ensuring that Arthur did not fall into a pit of self-languish or pain, reminding him that it would be the two of them, forever and always.

Had they ever spoken of that night again? Perhaps not.

But was there an understanding of what truly lay underneath the moment of shared eye contact? Perhaps.

Perhaps they had known all along, and in the end, what mattered more than that?

<3

[zafiro-anyejo]

So so tired of people, like... trying to one-up each other. i'm not even 30 but i'm so tired of trying to fake it. please just give me a damn job it is a fucking bookkeeping job i don't even have to talk to anyone i am one of the most passive and chill people you will ever meet. sometimes i quote movies or make jokes that don't often come across as well as i want. that's all. pleaseee.

[headspace-hotel]

im reading a lot of research about the mycorrhizal network because this is a HUGE emerging area of research and there is so much new stuff coming out its sooooo neat

So basically "the mycorrhizal network is how trees send each other nutrients and help each other" is wrong,

but the main reason people were mad at it—because they thought everything in the ecosystem is selfish and competitive acting for its own interests—is much wronger.

How come?

Well...fungi aren't just a postal service for trees. They have lives of their own! Plants aren't just controlling the mycorrhizal network to send nutrients where they want, they are communicating with the fungus and negotiating the terms of that relationship.

The genetic basis in plants for forming the mycorrhizal symbiosis is old. REALLY old. Like, "before plants even came onto land" OLD. Other forms of symbiosis, like what legumes have going on with the Rhizobia, are using the same genes to do their thing. There's a LOT of genes involved with creating the symbiosis, including some redundancies just to be safe, and we're only just now starting to understand them.

Why so many genes? What are all these genes for? Everything! Communication chemicals, hormones the other partner will respond to, flipping switches in the other partner's genes. There was a lot of arguing over which partner, the plant or the fungus, was "controlling" the partnership, but this question turned out to be total nonsense. Both symbionts have to recognize each other, respond to each other, prepare for symbiosis by adjusting how their genes are expressed, form the symbiosis, and continuously negotiate the relationship by exchanging chemical signals. Both can actively select the partner that offers the best benefits. There's even experiments where it's been shown that if the fungus turns parasitic, the plant will start secreting fungicidal chemicals. (But also the mutualist fungi in the experiment outcompeted the parasitic one when the pots were seeded with both.)

Mycorrhizal symbiosis is an incredibly intimate relationship. Like, the fungus produces special organs that literally grow inside the plant's cells, and the plant is actively participating in allowing this to happen. The plants and fungi have genes for hormones used by the other species, they have soooooo much stuff encoded in their DNA for interacting with their symbionts, it's like, blurring the lines for whether they're even separate organisms. There are SO many chemicals involved in communication between them and we only understand a few of those chemicals.

This is SO MUCH COOLER than if the plants were just using the fungus as a passive conduit to communicate with and support each other. The fungus is actively participating!

We were fools and assumed there had to be one partner that was "in control," but both plant AND fungus have to initiate and to some extent they're each engaging on their own terms! Or maybe it's better to think of them as one and the same organism?

We're also finding out that there's a lot more types of mycorrhizal symbiosis than we thought (at least five) and a lot more variety in how it works.

And that's not even getting into fungal endosymbionts—fungi that live inside plant cells completely instead of having part of them be outside and in the soil. They aren't considered mycorrhizae because they're fully inside the plant cells and not connected with any soil fungi network but they do a lot of complicated things we don't understand and interact with the plant's other symbionts.

Fungal endosymbionts produce a lot of chemicals that are useful to the plants in some way, and it turns out, that a lot of them kill cancer. Seriously, we've gotten a LOT of anti-cancer drugs from these guys. I think it's because they have to bypass the plant's immune system, but they also fight each other/other little guys that get inside plant cells, so they kind of...are part of the plant's immune system?

And what's MORE

Is that plants and fungus aren't the only things part of this system! There's also bacteria that are symbiotic with the plants and fungi! Even the endosymbiont fungi have bacteria that are endosymbionts inside THEM. Double endosymbiosis.

I think I read one paper saying the bacteria use the fungi to get around? Like that's how Rhizobia find their way to the legume roots in the first place? Have to double check that one

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Boyfriend Moments

G/N. Fluffy scenes. Yes, this bitch delulu. Sammy, Vin, Goo, Jake, Ryuhei, Gun. Masterlists

Samuel Seo

"Try this," you offer to Samuel your tea.

That is delicious, by the way. And the way he pulls a face at the milky concoction mildly offends you.

You continue to wave the cup in your boyfriend's face, straw close to being shoved up his nose, drink splashing perilously against the lid.

He gives in. Because your dedication for annoying shit like this knows no bounds.

Steadying your hand and leaning forward, he takes a gulp from your drink. It's actually not bad. Better than he thought but-

"Too sweet," Samuel says, straightening and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Suit yourself," you shrug, appeased that at least Sammy has given it a go and you take a sip yourself. Then, with a grin- "It's like we just kissed."

He arches an eyebrow at you pointing at the straw, can't help rolling his eyes even as he chuckles at your silliness.

"Here,"  Samuel leans down again and kisses you. Tasting the tea on your lips except this time it is much much nicer. Delicious even. "Now we've actually kissed."

.

.

Vin Jin

Vin is undeniably cringe, according to Mary. And also a simp, according to-

Everyone, actually.

But he reasons that everyone must be jealous because if they found someone like you, they would also be all over them too.

Much like Vin is.

He's a lot more PG-13 than you expected though, less handsy. Even with his reputation, cool and cocky and honestly a bit of an asshole, Vin loves simply holding your hand, your fingers intertwined with his. Walking down the street and everyone knowing you're together.

Maybe it's a bit childish to like this one simple gesture so much. But he doesn't care. Sometimes he likes to just look at your hand in his, comparing sizes, touching your palm against his, and feeling the softness of your skin.

It doesn't stop there though.

He gives you loud obnoxious smooches on the cheek, rests his chin on your head, forces you to share a seat, squished together with your legs draping over his.

Vin wants you close by all the time. And he used to be annoyed when Mary would call him embarrassing, tell him to get a room. 

Has tried to keep a little distance at first yet continues to be drawn to you like a magnet. In the end, he has stopped caring. Besides, he thinks having you by his side automatically makes him a lot cooler.

.

.

Goo Kim

Goo knows what comes out of his mouth is gold, it’s just a shame that other people don't.

Gun tells him to shut up frequently, Crystal's eyes glaze over as she hums politely, and he knows Kouji tunes him out.

He takes it as a challenge sometimes, to see how long he can keep talking before he makes them awkward and uncomfortable, wasting their time, hoping to drive them insane.

It hasn't happened yet, but he's proud to say he's been close.

"And then what happened?" you ask Goo, leaning forward eagerly to hear the end of his story.

His brows knit together, puzzled. "Huh?"

"You can't stop there. What happened next?!"

Goo blinks. This (or 10 minutes ago) was usually when everyone told him to shut up. "You actually wanna hear the rest of it?"

You give a look to say 'duh' and nod.

Huh. Goo feels himself tearing up, dramatically thumps his hand against his heart and tells you you're the best.

"I know. Now finish the story."

.

.

Jake Kim

Jerry can recite all your key facts. Where you were born, your date of birth, blood type, horoscope.

Jason sometimes corrects him on the MBTI though.

Brad knows your favourite foods and favourite drinks, Lineman your favourite clothes and brands.

Lua knows that you prefer colder weather, although there's nothing like a sunny day to brighten up your mood. Or hiding somewhere warm and cosy when the rain pitter patters outside.

Sinu can recite your's and Jake's anniversary off by heart. The gifts that you have bought him, and what he has bought for you. He also knows what Jake was considering buying for you but decided not to in the end, for one reason or another.

Fact of the matter is, Jake slips you into all his conversations with everyone. It's a bit of a talent, to be honest. Even if the conversation isn't remotely related to you, Jake still finds something to mention that involves you.

It was a headache, at first. Jake derailed discussions and Big Deal meetings with anecdotes and tidbits when you first got together. Over time it became barely noticeable, only off hand comments or throw away remarks here and there.

This worked out well for the crew, because no one had the heart to tell Jake to shut up. How could they when his face lights up, eyes soft and crinkling. and he smiles so sweetly talking about you.

.

.

Ryuhei Kuroda

"Hey," you murmur, kissing Ryuhei on the cheek as his eyes flutter open.

He's looking at you bleary eyed, smile spreading as he comes to. You both sport matching pillowcase wrinkles on your face, and Ryuhei's cowlick is even more outrageous than usual.

"That was good," he says, stretching his hands overhead, elongating his limbs and arching his foot.

"The best nap," you agree.

Intimacy used to mean sex to Ryuhei. All physical.

Now, well it still means that because it is Ryuhei after all. But it also means deep conversations into the night with you. Sharing opinions and thoughts and vulnerability. Having another half (a better half, if you asked him) to be with, share experiences with.

And one of his favourite experiences that he recently discovered, is napping with you.

Ryuhei had expected his favourite experiences to be all manners of lewd and explicit things. But nothing can beat the soft domesticity of him curled around your back, both your breaths starting to deepen as you drift to sleep in his arms and he follows closely behind.

.

.

Gun Park

You wouldn't say Gun is a feeder, but the fact that he cooks and feeds you so well came as a surprise.

"Nutrition is important," he would tell you, prepping in a frilly apron that you bought for him as a joke but wore anyway because why wouldn't he? It's from you.

You also don't understand what role nutrition plays when he prepares the food in cutest ways. Carrots in the shape of flowers, octopus cut sausages, onigiri with faces made from nori.

Tonight, you peer down at your katsu curry, with a bear shaped out of rice lounging in it.

You can't help the burst of laughter, thinking of your boyfriend - the fearful Gun Park, the Shiro Oni, in the kitchen cooking this for you.

"What?" Gun asks, seated across the table, a spoonful halfway to his mouth.

"It's too cute," You grin at the black eyed menace, the guy that was supposed to be all about fighting but has a terribly soft spot for you.

You glance down at the bear again, in an adorably relaxed position with steam rising around it reminiscent of an onsen. It seems almost a shame to eat it. "I can't believe you made this."

Gun gives you a matter of fact answer, "You like it more when it's cute." 

Oh.

The fact he goes to all this effort, just because you like it more, makes him the cutest of all.

[thetriumphantpanda]

i've got my love to keep me warm | joel miller

Summary | Joel agrees to spend Christmas with your family, away from the warmth of Texas, and it takes him a little while to warm up to the idea.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!reader

Word Count | 1.4K

Warnings | Grumpy x Sunshine vibes, some sweetness, some suggestive thoughts but nothing explicit, mentions of consuming food and alcohol.

Authors note | For @yeollie-plz- It's your @pedrostories secret santa!! I really hope you love this because it was good fun to put together! Happy Christmas to you!

“You know, you could at least pretend to be happy?” You tease, nudging your elbow into Joel’s side.

With the way he’s bundled up in his big coat, you’re not sure he actually feels you do it, but he grumbles all the same. Whatever he says in incoherent, but you can discern the meaning perfectly. What’s the point in being here as grown adults? What’s the point in wandering around, looking at lights and getting excited about Christmas, when, for the first time in years, there won’t be any children around?

“Come on,” You beam, taking his gloved hand in yours, “Maybe a drink with a little something in would make you happier?”

“What would make me happier would be sat indoors outta this snow.”

You roll your eyes, pulling on his hand to get him to follow you. He walks by your side, gloved hand sitting in yours as you weave through the crowds of people. Joel had wanted to stay in Texas for Christmas, something about the familiarity of it, not wanting to spend too much money on travelling at this time of year, but knowing it was his first Christmas without Sarah, now that she was all grown up with her own family, you knew that he’d be miserable, no matter that you’d be there with him, so you’d put your foot down, told him the two of you would spend Christmas with your parents up north, somewhere cooler, more festive.

He’d met them plenty of times before, they loved him, thought the sensible, stoic man was good for you. He had his head on his shoulders, a home of his own - settled, is what they’d called him. A far cry from the other boys you’d chosen in the past few years, and they were overjoyed to have a house full of people this year - your brother and his wife, you and Joel, a real family affair.

The centre of town always reminded you of being a child when you came back at this time of year. The streets filled with small stalls - some selling food, some filled with little trinkets from small businesses, all set around the main square, with its big tree, lit up and sparkling.

There’s one stall you zero in on, a small line that you stand in, still gripping at Joel’s hand as you step further towards the front each time someone walks away. You remember the first time you’d stood in this line - you were eight, and your dad had passed you a cup full of warm hot chocolate, a towering swirl of whipped cream on top. You’d sipped it so slowly, savouring the cream and the sweetness of the chocolate, and anytime you’re here, you have to get it, it’s just that these days, it’s always spiked with something.

Joel, of course, orders an Irish coffee - black, bitter coffee, split with cream and his favourite whiskey. You watch closely as he pulls one of his gloves off with his teeth, slipping it in his pocket so he can feel the warmth of it in his palm. He’s watching you just as closely as the lady hands you the cup of hot chocolate, mixed with Bailey’s, still with that tower of whipped cream too.

You both step away, standing off to the side as Joel takes the first sip of his drink. You can see the slight softening of his expression as he goes in for another sip, this one bigger than the first. He’s watching you as you dart your tongue out, taking some of the sweet cream into your mouth before you sip the drink, hissing when it burns your tongue a little.

“That’ll be hot, baby.” He teases, earning a little glare from you as he drinks his again, seemingly unaffected by the steam that rises from his own cup.

“It’s good,” You muse, holding it out to him, “Try it.”

“I don’t want none a’that,” He shakes his head, “Too sweet.”

“Joel Miller,” You chastise, pushing the cup closer to his face, “It’s Christmas, for the love of God, try the hot chocolate.”

He sighs, shakes his head in that way he always does when he knows he can’t win the battle. He hands you his drink, laughs a little when you wrinkle your nose at how strong it smells, takes yours from you and brings it to his mouth, taking a big sip, and when he pulls it away to hand back to you, you can’t stifle the giggle that falls from your mouth.

“What?” He asks, as your giggle falls into proper laughter, “What the hell’s the matter with you?” He snatches his own drink back sinking his neck down into his coat to keep the biting wind from his skin.

“Y-you’ve,” You choke out, pointing at your own nose, “You’ve g-got something here.”

You bring your hand up to his face, running the pad of your thumb over the tip of his nose, swiping the cream from his face. You go to pull it away, to wipe it away on the leg of your jeans, but Joel has other ideas, gripping your wrist to still you. He brings your hand to his mouth, enveloping your thumb into the heat of his mouth. You suck in a breath, feeling the tip of his tongue dart out against the skin, licking the cream off, before he drags your thumb from his mouth with a soft pop.

He drops your wrist from his hold, but you’re stuck, staring right at him, with the familiar throb of want settling across you.

“Thought it was too sweet for you?” You raise an eyebrow when you’ve composed yourself enough to speak.

He shrugs, takes hold of your hand and starts walking you back towards the tree, “If you’re gonna laugh at me, I ain’t gonna make it easy on you.” That familiar tone of grump is back, but you know he doesn’t mind really as he walks slowly, guiding you both to a bench that looks directly at the tree, dressed in red and gold, icy lights casting that familiar festive glow across everything.

He wipes the snow from the bench, makes sure it dry enough for you both to sit on, draping his arm across the back of it, encouraging you to curl into his side. The two of you sit for a while, watching the people come and go - young children excited to stand in line for the chance to meet Santa in his grotto, men on their own going from stall-to-stall, clearly shopping for last minute gifts, and couples, just like the two of you, wrapped up in nothing but each other as they hold hands, point things out to eat other.

“Thank you for coming,” You speak softly into his shoulder, looking up at him as he looks down at you, “I know it’s not really what you wanted, but I like that you’re here.”

“Of course it’s what I wanted,” He speaks just as softly, leaning down to press a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, “I only ever want to be where you are baby,” He motions his head to the scene in front of you, “Even if it is in the freezing cold, surrounded by too many people, wherever I’m with you, I’m happy, okay?”

You smile at him, tilt your head slightly, as his lips come down onto yours, cold and chapped from the winter air, but oh-so familiar as they slant across your own. You open your mouth against his, let your tongue meld with his own, the bitter of his coffee mixing with the sweet of your own drink. It’s soft, gentle, and over far too quickly. He pulls away, places two more soft pecks against your mouth, and then settles back against the bench, his hand now resting on your shoulder.

A shiver settles across your bones, something to do with the fact that even a few years into your relationship, he still sets you on fire without even trying, but mainly because it’s fucking freezing. Leant against Joel’s body, you feel him shiver a little too.

“Home?” You ask.

He looks back down at you, smiling a little with a nod, “Home.”

[solarmorrigan]

Romance, Commitment, and Cake

For the @steddie-spooktober day 15 prompt: Baking Rated: T | Words: 733 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, modern AU, Steve Harrington can cook, or bake at least, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

Eddie has always loved fall. He loves the way the world turns colors as the leaves begin to change, he loves how it gets cooler and he can wear his layers of jackets without feeling like he wants to die, he loves all the poetic themes of death and change, he loves Halloween. In more recent years, however, he’s learned to love fall because that’s when Steve starts baking like a man possessed, and doesn’t stop until the new year.

He doesn’t bother holding in the moan that wants to work its way out at the first bite of the pumpkin cheesecake Steve has presented him with. It’s perfect; creamy and light, the sweet and the spice blending and melting on his tongue. Eddie thinks he might actually need a moment alone with the cheesecake.

“Good?” Steve asks with a knowing little grin as he washes bowls in the sink.

“Marry me,” Eddie groans the moment he’s swallowed his mouthful.

Steve snorts out a little laugh. “We’re already married,” he reminds Eddie, holding up his sudsy left hand to show off the gold wedding band glinting there.

“This time it would be different,” Eddie says, taking a moment to get in another bite of cheesecake. “Last time I married you because you’re sweet, and you’re sharp, and you’re funny, and you’re beautiful, and because I love you. This time I’d be marrying you for your baking.”

“Man, don’t be shy, tell it to me like it is,” Steve says drily, but there’s a pleased, pink flush high on his cheeks.

“Just being honest with you, baby,” Eddie says with a grin before tucking back into his slice of cake.

“You know,” Steve says slowly, eyes trained on the dishes in the sink, “our anniversary is coming up. Five years.”

“Mhm?” Eddie hums around another mouthful.

“We can’t get married again, but we could… renew our vows, maybe.” There’s such a studied nonchalance to the suggestion that Eddie wonders if Steve hadn’t already been thinking about it.

And it’s a little funny that the idea of holding another ceremony, of putting on a suit and standing up and pouring his heart out in front of a group of people, of spending the day trading pleasantries and pretending to be at least halfway civil only produces happy little butterflies instead of the disdain it once would have.

Eddie had never gone in for romantic conformity, never thought marriage as a social convention was worth shit. He’d scorned the idea of perfect little white weddings, of the elitism and the privilege and the inherent heteronormativity. Marriage was a trumped-up gimmick made to sell needlessly expensive things to gullible couples with more money than sense.

And then he’d met Steve.

Steve, who had rocked the foundation of Eddie’s way of looking at the world; Steve, who Eddie loves more than anything; Steve, who loves romance, even if he won’t say as much out loud; Steve, who Eddie had proposed to, because he’d wanted to claim him and show him off to the world in as many ways as possible, wanted everyone to know that no matter which way they look at it that Steve is with him.

“It doesn’t have to be a big thing,” Steve says when Eddie’s been quiet a moment too long. “We could just have a small party; family and friends.” He gives Eddie a sidelong glance. “I could make a cake.”

“A cake, huh?” Eddie asks, biting down on a sly smile as he puts his empty plate down on the counter and sidles up to Steve at the sink. “What kind of cake?”

“Any kind of cake you want,” Steve says, looking back up at Eddie with eyes dancing with amusement. “You’re marrying me for my baking, after all. Only seems right you should choose.”

Eddie hums, moving around behind Steve and wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’ve convinced me, sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crook of Steve’s neck. “Let’s do it.”

“Yeah?” Steve cranes his head around to look at Eddie, showing off the luminous smile lighting his face.

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie says, leaning into Steve a little further. “Lemme tell everyone how much I love you all over again.”

The way Steve practically melts against Eddie is worth all the pomp and ceremony in the world, Eddie thinks.

(But the promise of cake doesn’t hurt.)

[marlynnofmany]

Stranger in Need

Inspired by this post from @banrionceallach, which wonders about healthcare and the human vs alien approaches to certain things in the spacefuture. Here's one answer to one facet of that question.

~~~

The space station was a noisy one, or maybe it was just the food court. Hard to have eating areas for a dozen species without a certain level of background sound. I was ready to move on, though. I waved to a few crewmates who were still hanging around the tables, then picked a route toward the entertainment stores. While the large concourses might have been faster, and the floating walkways cooler (they went through holes in the wall!), the small hallway with nature murals looked peaceful.

I admired the paintings of otherworldly hills, all orange and purple, with a glittery starscape on the ceiling. The hubbub faded behind me while the hallway curved ahead. Unfortunately, that sound was replaced by a new one: someone coughing violently.

I edged to the side so I could peek around the corner while keeping my distance in case there was contagion about. That was a lot of throat clearing between the coughs.

When the sitting area came into view, with its potted alien plants and multiple benches, I stopped worrying about my own safety. A fellow human was leaning against one of the benches, coughing with everything he had. His clothes were nice, like he was on his way to a job interview, and they were covered in sweat, like he’d been running to get there on time. A bag of belongings had spilled at his feet. The broken shards of plastic with a metal bit at the center had once been an inhaler.

There were also two tall aliens standing nearby, the long-necked type that I hardly ever saw, with short beaky faces and skin textured like a turkey neck. They were facing each other and ignoring the human who was struggling to breathe.

I ignored them right back and hurried over to the guy. “Hey, do you need help?”

He grimaced, but nodded. An attempt at explaining turned into more coughs. He pointed at the inhaler and pantomimed a heavy footstep.

I thought back to the size of certain people at the food court. They could easily have stepped hard enough to crack the casing and not noticed. “I don’t suppose you have a spare in here?” I asked, gesturing toward the bag.

When he shook his head, it was my turn to grimace. I wondered if he was fresh from Earth, where human-specific medicine was available at every corner medcenter. The inhaler could be hard to replace out here. At least we weren’t out on the edge of nowhere; the medcenters here should be familiar with human biology.

I told him, “We need to get you to a medcenter.” Then I paused. “Do you know where it is?”

He did not. Dang. I looked over at the two turkey-neck aliens who were having a staring contest or something. “Hey, do you guys know the way to the medical center?”

The closest one turned his head to face me without moving the rest of his body. “Do you mind? We’re in the middle of something here.”

“This person could die!” I snapped.

With a shrug in his voice, he said, “It’s your child, not ours.”

“He’s not my child!” I exclaimed. “He might even be older than me.”

“Then why do you care?”

I stared at the pair of them for a long second: their vaguely irritated expressions and the way they hadn’t moved an inch to help. I made an exasperated noise and gave them up as a lost cause. The guy was still coughing, trying to force air in and out of airways that were swelling shut.

“Lemme see if I can find a map on the public feed,” I said, pulling out my phone. “Oh hey, don’t bother; I’ll get it.” He’d bent to scoop up the fallen belongings, and almost passed out headfirst. With the phone in one hand, I ushered him onto a bench then nudged the pile together with a foot while I searched madly on my phone. “Argh, why don’t they have it up front? This is terribly designed. Are you gonna be able to walk?”

He nodded, but he was starting to list to the side with a glazed expression. I considered trying to carry him, and didn’t like my odds. Had there been other humans nearby in the food court? Somebody likely to help?

I shoved my phone back into my pocket and turned to sprint down the hall. I’d only made it a few steps before a welcome sight rounded the corner: not humans, but two of my biggest crewmates.

“What’s happening?” Blip asked, a vision of muscles and flowing silks that blended with her natural frills.

Beside her, Blop turned a fish-faced frown on the ailing human. “That doesn’t sound good.” His silks were even frillier than his sister’s, and the pair of them filled the hallway. Just what I needed.

“He can’t breathe,” I told them. “The tool for his medicine broke. Do you know where the medcenter is?”

“I’ll carry him,” they both said, Blip slightly faster.

“I’ve got the bag,” Blop added, diving to gather it up with a dismissive flap of his frills at the two turkey-necks. “Of course they’re no help.”

“Why would we?” asked the farther one, sounding honestly curious.

Blip announced, “Lift and be lifted,” then did exactly that. The adult human looked small in her arms.

Blop bounced to his feet with the bag zipped shut. “I’ll clear the way!”

The pair dashed off down the hallway with me running after. The turkey-necks didn’t move, though one of them muttered something about herd creatures.

As I ran, I thought, I’ve never seen more than one of those long-necked guys at a time before. Guess they’re a solitary species. They’re missing out.

We burst out of the hallway into a crowd that parted like a spaceship fleet in the path of a wild asteroid. Blop yelled for directions, and people of many species pointed the way.

I followed along, glad not to be the weird one for once.

~~~

These are the ongoing backstory adventures of the main character from this book.

Shared early on Patreon! There’s even a free tier to get them on the same day as the rest of the world.

The sequel novel is in progress (and will include characters from these stories. I hadn’t thought all of them up when I wrote the first book, but they’re too much fun to leave out of the second).

[causenessus]

new grounds

part 0.10. TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE . . . 2.3.2024

PLAYING IN THE CAFE . . . yes i'm changing by tame impala

things were a little quiet after what had happened.

when she first walked into the cafe, she hadn’t seen him and had headed straight for the back. she came back out wearing an apron and almost ran into him.

this happened on a regular basis; the doorway was right around a corner so no one could see if anyone was coming from the other direction. but today was different.

normally–or at least when they had still been at a no-talking-give-each-other-dirty-looks (it was just her giving him dirty looks, his normal face just effortlessly looks angry and mean)-“i hate you” (one-sided, just her hating him because she was convinced he hated her) stage–whenever they almost ran into each other he just kept moving. in the beginning, she would have mumbled a sorry either mumbled a sorry or would have kept on walking as well.

but today, when she walked out of the back, when he saw her he stopped. it surprised her and she stopped too. he had looked at her for a second before she thought she saw his face turn slightly pink and he rushed past her.

the first thought in her mind was immediately that he had stopped because of how she looked today and that made her face warm as well. she tried to focus on taking orders instead, but everything in her was distracted by something else. she was picking at her fingers, her heart was beating fast enough that she could hear it in her ears that had also warmed, and she was absentmindedly repeating back orders and cashing people out. he hadn’t come back to start on any of the orders yet and it was messing with her.

she wanted to see him again, just to confirm what she was thinking. had he stopped because of her or just because he was surprised to see her? but she needed to calm down too before he saw her like this, red-faced and shaking. 

then suddenly he was next to her beginning another order and her thoughts only raced more. she felt like a little school girl the way just his presence could make her a nervous wreck.

how did she feel about him? god, what was wrong with her?

maybe she needed to leave and take a break in the back too. something stupid felt like it was on the verge of blurting out of her mouth. 

she called the order she had just finished, praying to god she had at least made the right drink before she walked into the back again, throwing open the door to the cooler and walking in.

she was pretty sure there was a camera in here but who was going to check it? no one, she hoped. she paced back and forth, letting her face cool down before she came back out. 

when she did, the order screen was empty and he was there, leaning against a counter looking at the floor. he looked up and it took everything in her not to let her heart race and turn her face bright red again. 

“oh. hi,” he said, standing a little straighter.

she tried to act normal, making her way to stand next to him against the same counter. her response was small and quiet, “hi.”

he was racking his brain trying to find something to talk about. he always failed at conversations after the initial greeting. she was looking towards the floor now too, biting her lip as she played with her fingers. “uh…” he started and she looked up, giving her full attention to whatever he was saying. what was he saying? “...that show was really good. the one you guys did last week.”

that brought a smile to her face and he felt himself mirror it. if she was happy, he was happy.

“really? you liked it? i know it was kind of a really weird show but i thought it was pretty funny at the same time. i think i did see you in the audience, actually. you kept looking at the ceiling...were you okay?” she asked, her head tilting a little as she thought about the memory.

“oh, i didn’t know you guys could see that,” he felt a little embarrassed just thinking about it. he probably looked so stupid looking up rather than what was right in front of him the whole show. “i just thought whoever was doing the lighting was doing a good job. that was one of the first shows i’ve ever been to but i realized how much the colors were influencing how we felt so i kept looking up to see what color they would change to next.” he had averted his eyes initially, focusing on a spot on the floor as he tried to explain his thoughts but he looked back at her as he continued, “what was your job again? i feel like you’ve said it somewhere before but i can’t remember.”

maybe he was just bad at reading people’s faces but she almost looked like she was about to cry. but it seemed like they'd be happy tears. she was pouting with her brows furrowed like he had said the sweetest thing on earth, “do you really mean that?”

he blinked, slightly confused by the question, “yeah. why else would i keep looking at the ceiling?"

she could have hugged him on the spot. if keiji had said something like that she would have been screaming and throwing himself into his arms but she tried to contain herself. “sorry," she began, placing a hand on the back of her neck and looking away, "i just say that because i was the lighting designer and board operator, so that means a lot. it’s in my twitter description so you may have read that there.”

that clicked in his memory once she mentioned her twitter description. “you’re right, that’s where i remember seeing that. well,” her eyes slowly looked back up at him and he tried to give her a small smile, “you did a good job.”

they’re putting up chairs when he decides to ask.

“hey,” he starts, to grab her attention. she looks over from the table she just placed a chair over, “we live around the same area, do you want to walk home together again?” sometimes he’s surprised at his own boldness, if he can even call it that. in reality, he just focuses his entire being on what he wants to say and takes it one word at a time.

“if you’re okay waiting for a second, sure,” she answers, “i just have to bring the mugs back from the dishwasher and then i’ll be good.”

“yeah i can wait,” he responds. he's so focused on talking to her he barely keeps himself from saying what's going through his mind. that he could wait for her forever and that this is nothing. but that sounds stupid and sappy so he lifts up another chair instead while she disappears into the back.

once she’s grabbed her bag, she finds him waiting by the door, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket that’s been zipped all the way up. the collar slightly hides his face, making him look even grumpier than usual.

he follows her outside the door before they walk side by side. it feels easier to talk to him today than the last time they walked together, “you know, i didn’t take you as the type to come see a play anyway. did bokuto make you guys come? i saw his tweet, and technically keiji and i did ask him to try to get people to come. he knows a lot more people than us.”

he could stop her and tell her right now. he could tell her no, he actually came because he wanted to see her and what she was passionate about. then he could explain that his friends had actually placed bets on how long it would take for him to ask them to come with him only for him to defy all of their expectations and it was actually only thanks to one of them asking that they went. maybe she would find that funny.

 “yeah, he asked us if we wanted to come with him but i’m glad we did,” he settles for a small lie instead. that's probably better than explaining how nervous she makes him. 

“i’m glad you came too,” she said, facing him with that smile of hers.

if he was thankful for anything today, it was that he got to see her smile today, and that maybe he had been the reason for it.

tsukishima had given him the perfect advice. he wouldn't be able to suppress these feelings forever, but he would never be able to tell her if he didn't step out of his comfort zone. he had run away before, and he regretted it. he wasn't never going to do anything regarding her that he would regret ever again.

prev. | m.list | next

my brain writes in whatever tense it wants so i apologize for going from past tense to present

sigmund freud was on cocaine in case you weren't aware. what a king

whenever yn can vague tweet she can and will because she knows she has a private account but she needs to get her feelings out to more than three people

(it's also her way of trying to give kageyama hints but he never gets them and needs tsukishima to explain everything to him)

yn did make more today but it may have also been due to how sweet she was with everyone at the register because she was giggling and kicking her feet over everything kags said to her <3

(i was going to go on a whole tangent about how the way we perceive ourselves changed doesn't mean something suddenly becomes true and so you all actually look good all the time but then i realized it counteracted like half of this chapter's plot so here's your reminder that you look hot today)

literally the only thing different about y/n today that made her feel prettier than usual was that she got more sleep and decided to wear eyeshadow

the coffee shop does usually get pretty good tips for their environment, coffee, and free entertainment for example:

on yachi-keiji days it's often creating new concotions

on yn-keiji days there are lots of giggles and messes

on yn-kags days it's a free rom-com drama happening in real time

yn-yachi days = gossip time

kags started tweeting about needing help and asthma because he was freaking out and was so embarrassed after he stopped when he saw y/n which is why he took so long in the back because he also went into the cooler to force himself to calm down

if anyone actually checked the security cameras they would have seen kags enter and go 🧍‍♂️ for like eight minutes and then 10 minutes later y/n come in and walk around in circles

someone passed yn and kags as they were walking home and thought they were a cute couple of a cold boy walking his sweet girlfriend home because yn was rambling about something the entire way home and he was just nodding along the entire time with adoration in his eyes

it's very important for kags to understand and listen to what other people are passionate about because he knows what it's like to have a passion and he thinks it's important to acknowledge what other people love as well and he learns/begins to understand a person based off of their passions <3

taglist: @ncitygreen @lvrlamp @cherrypieyourface @mimi3lover @lees-chaotic-brain @frootloopscos @0moonii @cr4yolaas @eggyrocks @pinkiscool @httpakkeiji @localgaytrainwreck @lunaviee @kitty-m30w @lixie-phoria @aliruuiz @corvid007 @iluv-ace @yvjitadori @k8nicole @ryeyeyer @thechaosoflonging @kettlepop @r0seandth0rns @rinheartshyunlix @lucky-chars (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[sh4wty18]

makeup.

pairing: johnnie guilbert x reader

summary: you and johnnie are dating and decide to film a video of you doing his makeup

cw: fluff, language, suggestive but nothing major

word count: 1.5k + edited

---

“Hey guys! So today I’m here with…”

“Y/N!” you finish, slightly nervous as it’s your first time streaming alone with Johnnie.

Johnnie giggles a little, sensing your nerves. He gently squeezes your thigh under the desk, out of sight of the viewers, letting you know he’s here for you. You grip his hand in return and squeeze, and he grins in response, stating matter-of-factly,  “Yes! And this is her first time streaming with me! She’s gonna do great, guys. She’s a hundred times cooler than me as it is.” he gazes into your eyes while he says this, providing you with the comfort you need to get over your fear. 

The thought of thousands of people judging your every move is daunting, but you know Johnnie just wants this to be a fun experience for both of you. Plus, his fans have been wanting to see you guys interact on screen for a while now. The edits of you guys together are really cute to be fair, it’s just the sudden fame that comes with dating an internet celebrity has been… a lot. Luckily for the most part, Johnnie’s fans have accepted you with open arms, and they seem genuinely happy to see him finally in a healthy relationship. 

“So today…” Johnnie starts, “Y/N and I thought it would be fun for her to do my makeup, you know, since we have such different styles and stuff.”

“Wow… that description was… enlightening” you respond fake-sarcastically, which elicits an equally fake-sarcastic eye roll from Johnnie. 

“Alright let’s just get into the makeup then if my girlfriend is gonna start bullying me now…” he trails off, as you begin to laugh and grip his arm, and soon he’s unable to contain his own giggling. Even though you both share a jokingly-sarcastic sense of humor with each other, neither of you can ever get through a bit with a straight face. One of you always ends up dying of laughter and the other can’t stop from joining. Johnnie never laughed this much with anyone– other than maybe Jake. But once you guys started dating a few months ago, Johnnie’s been all smiles. 

“Okay, okay!” you say, catching your breath. “So like Johnnie said, our styles are super different. He’s emo and I’m kinda just doing whatever I like at the time. So I figured I would do my typical going-out makeup look for him today.” 

“I’m terrified.” he responds, “I’ve seen your going out looks… There's a lot of glitter involved. I mean you look hot but…”

“Oh you’ll be fine.” you snarkily reply, “You always look hot anyway, this’ll just… amplify your beauty!” 

He laughs, “Okay… I guess I trust you, girlfriend.” Johnnie has made a habit of calling you girlfriend as much as possible. It started as a joke between you guys– pet names that is. You would call each other pookie and boo bear and stuff like that over text and in instagram comments, eliciting hilarious responses from your fans, who had fun trying to figure out if you were being serious or not. Then one day, he called you girlfriend while greeting you in one of his videos with Jake, and you called him boyfriend in response. Ever since then, you’ve been unironically using those titles for each other. You both know it’s corny, but you don’t care. You’re too in love to care. Neither of you have ever felt this deep of a connection with anyone you’ve dated. Nothing about it can be “cringe” because you’re both too happy with each other to mind. 

“Um.. I would hope so, boyfriend.” You roll your eyes at him and he tilts your chin towards his face and kisses you. “Enough PDA, we have work to do!” you back away as he tries to go in for another kiss, “At least let me get started,” you smile back at him, cheekily. 

“Guys did you see that? She swerved me. What the fuck? This is so unfair. My girlfriend hates me.” The chat goes crazy, most people going along with the bit and saying stuff like “how dare you y/n😔” and “nooooo she gagged him lmao💀” 

“Needy, needy man” you grip his chin and peck him, “There, happy now?” 

“Yes… we can start the makeup now” he grins fake-maniacally. 

“Okay, I don’t use primer so we’re just gonna jump right in with concealer…”

—

“Stop, stopppp that’s enough!!!” Johnnie pleads in his raspy vocal-fry shout you’ve heard so many times before in his videos with Jake. 

“We’re almost done, you’re such a fucking baby” You laugh as he blinks down on the mascara wand for what feels like the hundredth time. “Okay now all we have left is lip gloss. But I figured we could do this the fun way, since you are clearly obsessed with me and wanna kiss me so bad” You flip your hair, “I mean, as you should!” 

“Alright we gotta keep this PG for the kids,” Johnnie says in one of his silly voices.

“Since when have your videos ever been PG, sir??” 

“Well… I guess you have a point,” he replies, leaning in and kissing you gently on the lips. You lean into it, and hold his cheek. You both pull away after a couple seconds, not wanting to fully start making out, which is where your innocent kisses usually lead. But considering you’re on stream, maybe that could wait until the cameras were off. 

You apply your favorite lip gloss to your own lips and smirk at him. He quickly catches on and says, “Oh so we’re chapstick challenging this bitch, huh?” 

“Oh yeah.” you laugh, and grip both sides of his face with your hands. At first you plant your lips firmly on his, actually attempting to transfer the lip gloss directly onto his lips. But then, you start planting kisses all over his face, leaving pink sticky smudges wherever your lips decide to land. 

“NOOOO!!! NOOO! HELPPP!! I’M BEING ATTACKED BY MY GIRLFRIEND. CHAT SAVE ME” Johnnie yells, gripping the sides of his desk to try and escape your grasp. 

“You’ll never escape me!!” you yell, leaping out of your own chair and onto his lap, continuing to plant kisses all over his cheeks and forehead. He grabs your waist with one hand, and your neck with the other, pulling you into a real, passionate kiss. One of your hands grips the headrest of his office chair, while the other cups the base of his neck, playing with his hair. 

He gasps for breath after a good twenty seconds, and you two both turn to face the camera, flushed with a mix of embarrassment and desire. “Well… sorry about that guys.” He says sheepishly, then turning to you adds, “The editors are about to go crazy on that one.” 

“No for real” you respond, giggling, “I don’t mind.”

He gazes into your eyes like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved, “Me neither.” And you can’t stop yourself from grinning. 

“How did I get so lucky, guys?” you ask. The chat responses have been super positive since the kiss, with comments ranging from “i feel like i’m interrupting something lol” to “the way he looks at her😭 they’re so in love omg”

“Well, now that I look like a pretty princess, I think we’re gonna call it here, guys. Thank you so much for joining the stream, and if you wanna buy my merch go to johnnieguilbert.com, oh and stream my music.” Johnnie finishes the outro and looks up at you, who is still sitting on his lap, “Anything you wanna add, y/n?”

“Ummm… I guess just that I think this was a really good first one-on-one stream, and you guys all made me feel super comfortable and welcome here, so thank you. Also, look how cute Johnnie looks! He’s so pretty with my pink eyeshadow on. You should do this more often, boyfriend.” 

“We’ll see about that, girlfriend.” he giggles, “And I’m glad you felt comfortable today, you’re awesome and I love being able to make content with you. Alright, bye guys.” he switches off the camera. “You did great! Just like I knew you would. I love you.” 

It’s the first time he’s ever said it out loud, but you can’t say you weren’t expecting it. The way you act around each other, there’s no other name for it other than true, unconditional, intense love. “I love you too, Johnnie.” 

You swing one of your thighs around his legs, straddling him, and he grips your ass with both hands. You wrap your arms around his neck as he leans up to face you. He kisses you like you’re his lifeblood, like he needs you to survive. It’s messy, and primal, and you’re both out of breath and gasping for air, but neither of you want to stop. And in this moment, you know you would do anything to be with him like this, forever. Feeling him, tasting him, breathing him in. You’ve never felt anything quite like this, and you don’t think you’ll ever want to be with anyone else ever again. It's just you and him.   

---

posted this on ao3 first, and i still have 3 more from my ao3 to repost here! likes and reblogs are always appreciated <3

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Hi Alex!

I don’t think it’s stupid or cheesy to miss someone, I miss you too! Going back to normal after being on holiday is always horrible, especially after this one, and especially having to go back to school, I’m not a big fan! Do you go to school too? I wanted to ask if you did but I couldn’t… it’s nothing personal, by the way, sometimes I just can’t speak to people and I don’t really know why. I thought it was my decision if I did or didn’t before I met you but maybe not. My parents n’ the teachers at school call it selective mutism but I won’t bore you with all that crap.

I can’t see your new teeth but they grow fast so maybe next time! If they don’t maybe you could get some gold one’s like your dad has, unless you don’t wanna look like a pirate lol.. my littlest sister has four teeth now, and I have all my big teeth! I haven’t counted the twins though cos they’d probably bite me if I tried haha!!

Ava is the tiny one with the blonde pigtails! She’s cute but she still sleeps and poops a lot haha, she’s sorta chill though and definitely doesn’t cry as much as Wren and Byrd used to (have you noticed we’re all named after birds yet? I guess my parents thought it was cute since our last name is Finch) Wren’s the ginger one with plaits! She’s pretty funny but she’s super grumpy sometimes and likes to bite and kick (not me though, she loves me) I think it’s cos she’s tired a lot cos she never sleeps at night, kinda like dad.. they’re twins but Byrd is way different, I couldn’t get a picture of him cos he kept running off, he’s crazy like that but he’s super snuggly and loves playing doctor! He likes to pretend to break my legs so I can’t go anywhere then fix them for me haha. Brothers and sisters are fun but they can be a pain in the butt sometimes! We have a cat called Lou too, his full name is Toulouse and he likes to bring us leaves from the garden and scream about ‘em, and he loves stealing food when you’re not looking.

Dad’s been teaching mom how to cook cos she sucks at it (don’t tell her I said that though cos I always pretend it’s not THAT bad) she’s sorta getting better though so I suppose the whole practice makes perfect thing pays off eventually. I got a school project to make a lame volcano that I didn’t wanna do as well, but my parents made me do it anyway.. we all know that real volcanoes aren’t full of baking powder and vinegar though so I dunno if there was much point to it but they seemed to think it was important so I did it anyway, at least I got a picture of it “going off” I guess. No one likes homework, even if it’s supposed to be fun, right?!

It’s cool you set Amber free!! I’m sure she’s happier wherever she is now so I guess you could just think of that when you miss her? The rocks are way cooler anyway! My aunt Aspen has loads of crystals too, sometimes she even charges them in the sun or the full moon.. I keep forgetting to ask her why but I’ll try and remember so I can tell you next time!

Hahaa your poor dad with those birds! I’ll definitely keep the picture cos it’s hilarious, Wren found it the funniest but don’t worry, I’ll keep the picture safe from her sticky hands! I have a hiding spot in the attic for all the stuff I don’t want them touching. I guess birdwatching is sorta fun sometimes but you’ve gotta be quiet (easy for me I guess.. hah!) I’m not sure there’s any other birds round here other than seagulls since we live right next to the sea, those are the ones you can hear the most anyway cos they never shut up! My dad jokes that he used to be a seagull in a past life cos he’s loud and greedy like they are lol.. he’s been building me a treehouse too, I bet that’d be good for birdwatching!! It’ll be super cool once he’s finished but it’s taking ages cos he mostly does it all by himself, I try n’ help sometimes but I’m still too small to carry or lift most things.. I wanna be as strong as him one day, he can build and fix almost anything (he swears a lot during it though haha!) Do you ever think about what you wanna be when you grow up? I don’t really think about that sorta stuff cos working sounds boring, especially if it’s as lame as school!!

I’m ten, by the way! How old are you and when’s your birthday? Mine’s February 22nd. I don’t think I have a favourite food, anything my dad makes is amazing cos he’s a good cook and my mom makes the BEST pancakes! We’re always stuffed after dinner but dad says (lies) that pudding goes in a different part of your stomach so there’s always room for cake haha.. I think I like it best when he makes spicy food but Wren and Byrd hate it so he doesn’t make stuff like that too often. It’s fun to see how much you can eat before your mouth feels like it’s on fire and I’ve decided I’m gonna beat him one day so he better watch out!!!

I didn’t know what to write at first but I guess I sorta ended up writing quite a lot since I had some catching up to do! Are you and your dad on holiday in the tower or are you living there for now? It sorta sounded like you’ve been there a long time, where do you usually live? What kinda stuff does your dad dig up for work? It’d be cool if he dug up dinosaur bones!! I watched something like that recently and they were HUGE!

It’s hard to think of questions on the spot but you can talk about anything you want too! I probably owe you a million answers as well so you can ask anything you want too! I had fun reading your letter and I’m glad we can be pen-pals even if we don’t get to see each other! Maybe next time we meet in person I’ll be able to say something, but writing would still be fun too so I guess it doesn’t really matter, right?

Love Robin c:

ps. I’m keeping the funny photo of you yelling at your dad and there’s nothing you can do about it!!

pps!! I don’t have a way to print out photos yet otherwise I’d have sent some new ones. Dad gave me an old polaroid ages ago but it’s still broken, his friend said he might be able to fix it though so hopefully I can use that next time. Mom said you can have some of our old ones and the ones from her disposable camera whilst we were on holiday for now though so I’ll send those to you as soon as they come back!

[milkyboybluewriter]

The Disappointing Case of Wendy Corduroy

Wendy Corduroy has a lot of potential, but too often is pushed to the side by a lot of fans, and even by her creator.  But not for lack of trying, or an interest in the character.  In fact, Alex’s idealised view of Wendy may have been her greatest obstacle in receiving a story of her own.  Dipper isn’t the only one who seems to consider her ‘the coolest person he knows.’

Wendy was inspired by the first girl who ever spoke to Alex Hirsch, as well as several people the creative team thought were cooler than them. These were likely special memories or people in order to base a fictional character on them.  But that puts her on a pedestal.  And when someone puts you up there, it’s hard for them to take you back down.  Either for fear of ruining you or concern that, when others look closer, they’ll be disappointed in what they see.

He wanted her to be a main character (in the same way Soos is, if not Stan, Dipper, or Mabel) but in many ways Wendy feels like a side character.  She never receives her own episode, and lacks the character arc that even some side characters like Pacifica and Robbie received.

Her family, her friends inside the Shack and out, her physical abilities and survival skills, the drama of being a teenager, not to mention being a resident of the weirdest place on Earth.  All of these can lead to a hundred stories across the spectrum.  So why do people not write more stories about her?

Maybe it’s because she wasn’t given the opportunity that others had.  

As a cool, older redhead, Wendy’s main role in the show was being Dipper’s crush.  Which already puts her at a disadvantage because it means they designed her purpose first, character second. In fact, this is probably why she changed so drastically from her vegan-hippie prototype seen in the Gravity Falls bible.  Everything from her boots to her hat has changed since then, save the way she makes Dipper’s heart go faster.  

Most of her appearances in season one featured this one-sided romance and Dipper’s attempts to impress her, which usually resulted in a morality lesson about being yourself and not doing dumb stuff to impress others.  Pretty standard cartoon crush territory.  But between the episodes, a real friendship bloomed. 

In The Time Traveller's Pig, she gives an indifferent shrug as she casually agrees to go to the fair with Dipper, yet before her injury - and in the timeline where she avoids it altogether - she’s shown to genuinely enjoy his company.  A couple of episodes later and she’s outright excited at the prospect of working alongside Dipper at the pool.  They have regular movie nights.  They crack jokes and tease the Shack’s customers.  Climb trees and play at the arcade.  Wendy spends more time with Dipper than any other character.  Which means she must care about him more than she does the rest.

The crush might be one-sided but the affection is not.

But in the DVD commentary of Into The Bunker, Alex Hirsch, Matt Chapman, and Rob Renzetti mention that fan feedback convinced them to end Dipper’s crush sooner rather than later, even supposedly having ‘KILL THE CRUSH’ as one of their main story goals for season 2.  Understandable.  The crush episodes weren’t always the best, and if it was always intended as an unrequited attraction then better to get it over with rather than draw it out.  And it’s a good lesson to have a young boy learn, especially around twelve.  Love and puberty are relatable, but no less frustrating for it.

Into the Bunker is my favourite episode for multiple reasons, not least for Wendy’s presence in it.  She shows off her friendship with Dipper in the cold open, reveals her lumberjack and fighting skills later, and shows she would be an excellent adventurer.  I see it as a prime example of What Could Have Been.  I especially adore the ending, where she lets Dipper down so gently, it’s a beautiful scene.  As sad as Dipper feels, he’s also been told by someone very special to him that he’s very special to her too.  Maybe not in the way he wants, but perhaps in an even more important way.  

I had high hopes after that episode.  I remember thinking this meant she would develop beyond just being his crush, especially now we’d seen her hold her own against the weirdness and danger.  I really wanted to see more of this adventurous, sensitive Wendy we’d missed in season one, and wanted her to be a regular companion and friend to the twins.

Wendy appears in 16 episodes in the first season, and 15 episodes in the second if you don’t split Weirdmageddon 3 into two.  In season one she appeared in but didn’t participate in the adventure of key episodes like Dreamscaperers or Gideon rises.  In season two, she joins the adventure in Society of the Blind Eye, The Last Mabelcorn, and the Weirdmageddon trilogy, but has limited interaction or story impact in most episodes, save Love God.   She only has what amounts to cameo appearances in Not What He Seems and Tale of Two Stans, two of if not the most important episodes of the series.  

Including each of the Weirdmageddon trilogy, she’s referenced via Dipper’s lingering crush six times, including episodes she doesn’t even appear in.  So, after Into The Bunker, Wendy goes from being Dipper’s crush to…his crush that appears less.  

Wow, they really failed that Kill the Crush mission, didn’t they?

Perhaps the biggest issue is that she is so keenly tied to Dipper.  I love the Dipper and Wendy relationship, I could write a massive essay on that alone.  But it is such an incredible waste that she didn’t get a chance to interact with the others nearly so often. Every other main character has relationships with others.  Soos has a father-son bond with Stan as well as a friendship with the twins.  Ford was introduced later in season 2 and still interacts with Soos and Fiddleford as well as his family.  It’s a hindrance to her character that most of her interactions were for Dipper’s arc, yet she received nothing of her own.  

Wendy spends some time with Mabel, trying to help her with boy trouble (not the best person to get dating advice from, Mabel) in Hand That Rocks the Mabel and Society of the Blind Eye, then goes along with the girls to keep them safe in Last Mabelcorn.  This lets us see her affection and big sister vibes don’t end with Dipper, and should have been explored far more.  Her interactions with Soos and Stan are also limited, mainly to the workplace.  Her only dialogue with Ford is one line in Journal 3.  

Yet we also never see her be by herself.  We never see her home life, or how she entertains herself away from her friends or work. She's always interacting with a main character or her group of friends.  No alone time or personal interests are seen beyond pranks and reading magazines to avoid work.

We even get to see Robbie Valentino’s home life and musical hobbies, but not hers.

This lack of independent material has even continued in the Book of Bill where two of her very limited mentions is in regards to Dipper being stuck on a tree and another is his search history.  Even her own dream is made into a joke at Dipper's expense.  Ten years later, and so much of her is tied to Dipper, specifically to mock his feelings for her.  I don’t know if that’s more insulting to Dipper or Wendy at this point.

Speaking of dreams, let’s get to another issue: her mother.  Who we know nothing about.  In a show so heavily focussed on mysteries, the fate of Mrs Corduroy is a question that’s been left hanging since season one and we have come no closer to an answer of any kind.  Even a direct question from fans on both the Alex Hirsch and Bill Cipher AMAs were answered so vaguely they told us nothing.  She’s no longer with her?  A Fountains of Wayne reference?  Even the Book of Bill’s reveal that Wendy dreams about her most nights says nothing.  Are these good dreams?  Nightmares?  Memories?  The implication is that she’s dead, yet not even that has been confirmed.  For all we know, Mrs Corduroy could be dead, missing, abandoned her family, or could be working on an oil rig for the summer.  Your guess is as good as anyone’s by this point. 

We know she’s Manly Dan’s oldest and his only daughter, but we didn’t even learn her brother’s names until a paste up sheet was released in 2017.  She barely shares a scene with any of them, and when it happens it’s in the background.  The only exception I can think of is their group hug in the Fearamid.  A tender moment which would have been so much better if we’d actually seen her engage with them beforehand.  Her lack of interaction is especially jarring considering her confession in Society of the Blind Eye:  "Okay, I'm not actually laid back. I'm stressed, like, 24/7. Have you met my family?"

Not really, no.  And for a show that’s about family as much as it is about mystery, it’s a shame that Wendy is let down in both areas.  

Even side characters like Robbie, Pacifica, and Grenda receive more character development, despite their limited importance or screen time.  In fact, it was recently pointed out to me that Archibald Corduroy, Wendy’s ancestor, is more integral to Pacifica than his own descendant.  Once again, Wendy’s interactions come up short, including from her own family.  

With the release of the Book of Bill, some people were hopeful that she might finally get some attention.  I wasn’t.  Personally, I think Bill simply has a low opinion of Wendy anyway since he called her a pushover in his AMA, so it can be fitting he doesn’t mention her often.  But it’s also the context of these mentions, and those on the website.  On Thisisnotawebsite.com she’s referred to twice - Her one contribution is a simple note where she pranks the reader.  Then she’s mentioned in Stan’s list of embarrassing moments.  

Ten years later and not only are her contributions incredibly minor, but they’re as much to do with other people as herself, if not more so.  She’s supposed to be a main character but she might as well be a cameo.

Her lack of representation is so bad, that I realised my friends were celebrating her being mentioned in The Book of Bill.  That’s how desperate we’ve become for Wendy material.  And I’m sick of it.   At this point, I’m anticipating a Wendy story as much as I am Winds of Winter.

Last month I was discussing some of my writing ideas with my father.  And he gave me a very hard truth: it doesn’t matter how good your ideas are, if you don’t act on them, they’re only ideas.  And he was absolutely right.  It doesn’t matter how great these ideas are in my head, if they’re only in my head then what good are they? 

Hirsch has been saying for years he’s wanted to do more with Wendy, but he hasn’t. Not in the show, the comics, or the other material.  Intentions, like ideas, are useless if you don’t do something about them.

I honestly hate how harsh this sounds.  I love Gravity Falls.  And I love Wendy.  And I believe Alex Hirsch does too, he just…doesn’t know what to do with her.  As he says in the Inconveniencing commentary: “We wanted to honour her so much that we couldn’t figure out the right episode with her because we didn’t want to mess her up.”  He’s put her on a pedestal just like Dipper did.  And I think she needs to come down so we can see how awesome she really is.

So, what can be done to fix this?  Well, when creators don’t have the time, interest, or ability to do something for a series, that leaves the fans to fill in the gap.  

I urge other Gravity Falls enthusiasts to try and give her the attention and character development she sorely deserves, especially now there’s a resurgence of activity and interest.  Draw or write her if you can, have her interact with other characters, not just be a crush, explore her depths.  And if you can’t, seek out those who have or can and ask their advice, or thank them for their work, offer encouragement.  For Wendy if not for them.

I want to leave this on a happier note and say that I’m going to follow this up soon with another essay, this time offering advice on writing Wendy.  Even talented writers I admire have surprised me by saying they struggle to write her, yet I’ve found it pretty easy.  So hopefully I can encourage other people to write her too.   

But if I could summarise what I want to see and what I think will help people write Wendy, it would be this: She’s not just Dipper’s crush, and she’s not just the cool girl.  She’s bigger than that.

She’s Wendy Flippin’ Corduroy and she deserves so much more.

Cheers, Milky Boy Blue

[marloree]

𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝑒

Pairing: Model! Beomgyu × Artist! Reader

Genre: romance, fluff

Word count: 2.2 k

As an artist, you always admired beauty - in nature, in things, in people, in feelings. Your entire life revolved around it, you could find beauty in the smallest of things and it delighted you. Beauty was something you always appreciated and strived to express in your art. Beauty, in a way, was your home, a place of peace.

Since your teenage years, you always found beauty in the passers-by. Sitting in the school, in the park or in the subway, you always found the person whose beauty you wanted to capture.

Now, as you became a professional artist, this habit of yours didn't change. Albeit, now you had the chance to ask the person to model for you - for money, obviously. And, fortunately for you, some agreed, letting you attempt to capture them on canvas for however long you wanted.

However, this time was different. The man you met left you speechless. The beauty that radiated from him was nothing less than ethereal. You couldn't help but look at him in awe. Luckily, the man agreed to model for you, making your eyes glisten with undeniable anticipation.

Since it was summer, you both agreed it would be best if you do your painting sessions outside.

The next day, half an hour earlier than the arranged time, you were already looking for the perfect spot in the park you two decided to meet at.

And you did. You found just the perfect spot. It was in the middle of the park, nearby the pond. The water made the air there cooler compared to the other parts of the park so, gladly, you wouldn't sweat buckets while painting.

As you awaited the model, you settled down your supplies, thinking of the yesterday's encounter.

Beomgyu, that was the said model's name, appeared to be just as beautiful inside as he was outside. He was aware of his charm, but didn't act on it or seemed arrogant. Despite his undeniably gorgeous looks, he seemed to be a humble and nice man. At least, that was your first impression. Well, you hoped it wasn't just a first impression.

Rethinking your numerous encounters with your ex models whose ego seemed to be higher than the sky, you hoped that, just maybe, this one wouldn't be like them.

As you were thinking, you suddenly heard the rustling of the branches - someone was approaching, for sure. Looking up, you saw that it was your new-found model, Beomgyu.

"Oh, hi!" you waved slightly, inviting the young man to sit at the already arranged for him area.

"Hello", Beomgyu settled down, preparing to pose.

You helped him take the perfect position, relieved to see the man being cooperative. Letting out a delighted sigh, you sat down, ready to begin your work.

"Oh, before I start, do you have experience in modeling?"

"Not really," the man shrugged, "but I thought it would be an interesting experience to give a try to."

"An interesting experience, huh? Does he have nothing better to do than model for a total stranger?" Numerous thoughts popped in your mind.

"I see...Well, I hope you enjoy your experience here."

Beomgyu did a perfect job for someone with no experience. He was patient and willing to listen to you, sitting in one pose without moving for long periods of time.

Almost two hours have passed when you finally decided to take a break and have some mercy on the poor unexperienced man. Setting your brushes aside, you got up, shaking off your legs.

"Would you like to eat something or just relax and get rid of the stiffness?" You reached into your bag and pulled out the snacks you brought, offering some to Beomgyu. "I know posing isn't an easy thing to do, especially for long periods of time. So feel free to take a rest, however long you want."

The man let out a groan, immediately getting up and walking in a small circle, shaking off the tension in the muscles. Once Beomgyu finally relaxed, he reached for one of the snacks.

"Thank you. I knew posing wouldn't be easy, but...I definitely underestimated the discomfort it may bring."

"Ah, it's always like this! We tend to underestimate things, you know." You chewed on your snack while looking at your sketch. It was far from perfect, but you were doing quite a good job today.

You looked once again at the sketch and then at Beomgyu. You, undeniably, managed to catch some of his beauty on the canvas, but...the only thing you could see was a not yet finished portrait of a handsome man. Nothing more, not even a hint of soul. You just drew a blank portrait of a person. Or, rather, you drew the person you knew nothing of and couldn't portrait his character.

Beomgyu noticed the disappointment in your eyes that appeared when you looked at your work. "Is something wrong?"

"No...Well, not really. I'm just thinking that I shouldn't draw people only because they're pretty. Look at this", you turned the canvas to him, "it looks absolutely blank, meaningless."

Beomgyu glanced down at the sketch, comparing it to the face he saw everytime he would look in the mirror.

"Yes, you did a good job conveying my features. But, it is just a pretty drawing with no meaning behind it. However, what meaning could you put? You know nothing about me."

"Yeah, you're right", you muttered.

"Although, it's not so hard to change that: we could try getting to know each other," Beomgyu offered, a small smile evident on his face.

"Really? You wouldn't mind that, would you?" you asked, just to be sure.

The man shook his head. "Not at all. Moreover, I'd be glad to get to know you better. You seem to be a nice person. Plus, I've seen some of your art before and, well, it left me curious to get to know what kind of person stands behind it all."

"Oh, so that's why you agreed to model for me...I see," you muttered, realizing that his interest for the job wasn't the only reason. He was interested in you, as a person.

"You mentioned seeing my art before, am I really that famous?" you joked, wanting to change the topic.

"You might not be so famous, but I for sure stumbled across your drawings in the magazines for a few times. Every single one of your works left me wonder just what exactly you wanted to represent, what emotions you put in and what you've been going through while you worked on it."

"Well, art for sure is a way to express my feelings for me. It makes me more relaxed and helps me get calmer, knowing that I was able to express myself, that some people will actually get the message I put into my work. Overall, letting my emotions out through canvas or paper is already good enough for me," you explained, feeling yet once again the love and passion you had for your work rising in you, "but it makes me so happy knowing that someone actually gained interest in my art", you smiled.

"I'm glad you were able to find a way to express yourself, it truly is something to treasure", Beomgyu replied thoughtfully, "especially when it becomes your safe place, a place where you can seek comfort when needed."

You nodded, "it really is".

Just like that you would meet up in the warm summer evenings in the park, taking your time to talk and paint. You discussed many different things, day by day getting to know and understand each other better. Slowly, the unknown man, like a puzzle, was turning into someone you could call an acquaintance. As days passed, the acquaintance turned into a friendship.

As you were slowly learning the man's character and his point of view on numerous things, your sketches gradually improved, too. It wasn't lacking as much emotion as it did before. The once emotionally blank portrait slowly turned into one of a living, feeling person. You couldn't deny that the similarity of the man to the painting grew stronger each day, too.

Luckly, your first impression didn't trick you this time. Beomgyu turned out to be a genuinely nice and humble person. As time flew by, you barely noticed how attached you grew to him.

Going home after your everyday sessions, you would catch yourself thinking about Beomgyu, your conversations with him, his words and opinions.

Meanwhile you didn't always particularly agree with some of his thoughts, you couldn't deny that they made you rethink your own opinions to come up with a stronger argument next time.

Once almost silent modelling sessions now would occasionally turn into heated arguments, which both of you enjoyed. You would explain your point of view while attentively listening to the other party. Sometimes it would turn into endless bickering, leaving you two laughing out loud at the way you acted.

Either way, these vocal debates helped you understand each other better.

But, on your way back home, Beomgyu's opinions weren't the only thing on your mind. Your thoughts would wander to the fact that, no matter how much fun you were having in the moment, your sessions would come to an end one day.

One day you'll finish your work and will have to say goodbye to once a stranger who now held a rather special place in your heart.

During your numerous sessions you grew fond of Beomgyu, of his lovely character, kind personality. You were happy that he was just as beautiful inside as he was out. And you didn't want to lose such a precious to you person. The thought made your heart ache.

June passed, July slowly turned into August, your work was slowly coming to the end. You almost completed your goal: painting an actually worthy portrait that both showed the person's outside beauty and his character.

As the summer flew by, the day of your last, final session arrived. It seemed like you only started your sessions a few days ago, but, sadly, the transience of time in the real life didn't match up with the slow pace of the time in your mind.

Now, you were finishing your portrait completely, only leaving a few last lines here and there to complete the painting fully, make it as perfect as you could.

As you worked, you looked at your painting, rather unsatisfied. It wasn't that it didn't turn out the way you wanted to. On the contrary, the piece of art met up all your possible expectations, you could proudly say that you've outdone yourself this time.

But, the thought of leaving this place and never coming back to your usual sessions saddened you. Of course you would have many opportunities to visit the park whenever you wanted to or had the time, you could even arrange your sessions with other models there. However, you were sure that it would never feel the same without Beomgyu by your side. You might be lucky enough to find good models, but could they replace the kind man you've spent all the summer with? You were positive that they could not. At least, they wouldn't replace him to you. These said models may be 10 times better than Beomgyu in skill, but, to you, they still wouldn't stand a chance against the person you grew so attached and attracted to.

As you were so deep in thought, Beomgyu, just like on your first meeting, immediately noticed the look on your face. It was clear as day that you were unhappy with something.

"Hey, is everything alright?" He asked softly, barely breaking the pose he was in. During these past months, he really caught on the modelling business. Once being totally unexperienced, under your eye he quickly learned the basics and now could come off as a professional model.

"Not as alright as I'd want it to be", you answered truthfully. "In all honesty, I think I got a bit too attached to you during this summer, Beomgyu, and now it's hard for me to let you go. I know it's unprofessional on my side and I shouldn't have let my feelings take over the job, but I can't fight what I feel, either, can I?" you sighed.

"Oh, but who said we should part our ways completely? You never asked for my opinion on the matter, Y/N. Have you never thought that I, too, might feel the same way?" Beomgyu looked at you with his usual sparkly eyes, but now you could see a gleam of something new, yet unfamiliar to you, shining in his gaze.

You looked back at him: the idea, to be fair, never really crossed your mind. "Well, I didn't look this far, honestly. I never got into anything personal with my ex models so I thought you'd want to stay professional too..."

"You should have asked me, you know," Beomgyu smiled slightly, "on my part, I'd hate to stay "professional only" if we both feel the same way."

"But...do we, really?" You inquired sheepishly, still finding it hard to believe that everything was going so smoothly.

"I do, Y/N, I really do."

Within a moment the canvas standing in between the both of you were carefully pushed aside as your bodies enveloped each other's in the so long awaited embrace, all your doubts disappearing in a gentle kiss.

Taglist: @babymochibeargyu (thank you for asking to be added 🥺)

A/N: this took me a bit longer to write than I initially expected, but I hope you guys enjoy!!

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 1: Can I Buy You a Beer?

You run into someone you don't expect when out for a drink. A continuation of Halcyon, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Yes it's a Javi gif but we're gonna say he's Joel because Joel is in his 30s for this fic, OK?

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 5.7K

AO3 | Prologue | Next Chapter

Austin, Texas

September 30, 2022

You were going to strangle Alyssa. 

It sure as hell hadn’t been your idea to go out drinking to celebrate the end of the first month of the school year. Definitely not your idea to do it at a bar that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned this decade. And it absolutely was not your idea to try to pick up a guy while out at said dingy bar. 

But it apparently was Alyssa’s idea of a good time. 

You sighed as you watched people go to and from the bar from your seat tucked in the corner. You tried to come up with stories for the people you could see in the dim light, like they were characters in a book you were writing. The biker in a leather vest, you decided, had been an accountant for 20 years when he bought a Harley during his midlife crisis. He’d become a mechanic when he became too obsessed with the bike to be satisfied behind a desk. His wife was pissed but his son thought he was way cooler now. The couple at the end of the bar were on a second… no, third date. She was deciding whether or not to fuck him. You thought it was going to go in his favor.

Alyssa had moved out of the seat next to the guy she’d taken up with and into his lap. You wondered if there was a world record for how far someone’s tongue could be down another person’s throat. It had to trigger her gag reflex at some point, right? Or maybe she didn’t have one. That must be nice. Maybe that was the key to being good at oral. Maybe you’d be better at it if you didn’t have a gag reflex. Maybe you’d still have a husband if you were better at oral. 

You downed the last of your Shiner and rapped your fingers along the side of the glass. That was one upside to being back in Texas, at least. Shiner Bock on tap was a nice perk. 

Next time you went out with Alyssa, you were driving yourself. If there was a next time. 

But you’d probably cave before too long. You didn’t have many friends and you liked her. Even though this night hadn’t been much fun and getting to know her at all had been awkward at first. Alyssa was a few years younger than you and the first time she’d stumbled into your office she had your book in her hands and a wide smile on her face. 

“I am so sorry if this is weird,” she said after a brief introduction. “But… I’m in love with your book and I am dying for you to sign it!” 

“Sure,” you laughed a little and she passed it to you. You flipped to the title page and scrawled “Alyssa, Thanks for reading. With love, your coworker” before you penned the signature you’d practiced a million times with your agent below and handed it back. She squeaked, a little giddy,  before offering to show you the best restaurants near campus. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you’d grown up in Austin so you had plenty of favorites without any extra help. 

Still, you had this strange drive to have Alyssa see you as a normal person. Award-winning author famous was, thankfully, not the kind to get you recognized on the street but it still made you uncomfortable. Book signings and readings were exercises in misery. There was the acute agony of being observed and noted, the strange knowledge that, for these strangers, this brief encounter was going to be something they remembered. They’d remember if you had a mustard stain on your shirt or if there was lipstick on your teeth or if the stress you were under as you traveled from city to city while your marriage fell to pieces around you made you snap at someone. You never realized how keenly you valued anonymity until it wasn’t an option anymore. 

The very last thing you wanted was someone who was a fan with an office two doors down from your own.

So, you’d decided to have her be a friend instead. Make it so she saw you as a person and not someone from the inside of a book jacket. The two of you had gone to lunch a few times and out for a quick drink once, too. It had been nice and, ever since, it felt like she had stopped watching you like a pseudo-celebrity and started seeing you as a friend. Or, at the very least, a friendly acquaintance. 

So when she’d asked if you wanted to get some drinks tonight, you’d said yes, envisioning the lounge she’d suggested the first time you’d gone out, one with jazz music playing quietly enough that you could chat over it. 

That was not where she suggested this time. 

But you were already here and edging in on tipsy and if you were going to spend the night alone at a bar and, eventually, at home with your vibrator, you may as well be drunk doing it. 

You made your way to the bar and ordered a tequila shot and another beer, drumming your fingers on the bar top as you waited for your drinks. 

“Well hey there, beautiful,” a man who had to have at least 10 years on you sidled up next to you at the bar. “What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ getting your own drinks?” 

“No one else was volunteering,” you gave him a tight smile. “But I’m not looking for company so…” 

“Don’t tell me you’re here all by your lonesome?” He smiled a lopsided, cocky smile, looking you up and down. The accent felt a little heavy handed and the cowboy hat put it over the top. You wondered, idly, if he was hiding a bald spot under there. 

“I prefer flying solo, but thank you,” you said, peering around him to watch the bartender flirt with a girl who looked like she was newly 21 and probably here slumming it at this bar that was far from the school. You sighed and settled in to wait even longer for your drinks. 

“Girl as pretty as you shouldn’t be all on her own,” he said, leaning against the bar and blocking your view. “No way someone hasn’t snapped you up yet, a face like that…” 

“Oh my face has nothing to do with it,” you smiled, forcing your eyes to go wide enough that you looked a little crazed. “It’s because I’m a murderous sociopath with six bodies buried beneath my house.” 

The man just blinked at you, a puzzled look on his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head and you considered, for a moment, timing him to see how long it would take to piece it together. 

“She’s right you know,” a familiar voice from behind you made you stiffen. “There's a reason she's here alone. This one’s insane, she’d chew you up and spit you out, man. Best you find someone else to try n’take home.” 

“Sorry, man,” he said. “Didn’t know she was spoken for.” 

You watched the man shove himself back from the bar and prowl off to find another woman to try and bed before turning, slowly, to the man standing at your back. Your heart beat picked up in spite of yourself when you saw him, as tall and broad and somehow even more handsome than ever. 

Joel Miller smiled, one of his cocky, lopsided smiles that made his cheek dimple. 

“Hey, Goldie.” 

***

It was you.

Here, in this shitty bar in his corner of Austin on a Friday night was you. 

Joel froze when he saw you, sitting in a corner by yourself, watching the bar with a far away look on your face. 

It was a look he knew intimately, even though it had been 11 years since he’d last seen your face in person. You’d get that look when you were thinking about something important, something you wanted to remember. You’d have that look and then you’d open up that gold notebook of yours and write furiously for a minute or two before stashing it away. 

“You ever gonna let me read any of that?” He’d teased one day as you sat, curled up in the corner of his couch, your notebook on your knees. 

“No,” you scoffed. “Trust me, you don’t want anywhere near this disaster area. It’s basically just the word vomit version of my brain, it’s a mess up there.” 

Joel didn’t push you on it but, truthfully, he’d have killed for a chance to see inside your mind for a moment. He wanted to crawl inside your skull and look at whatever you’d let him see. He wanted to memorize you, carry you with him, wrap himself up in you at every opportunity. You felt like home, more than anything else he’d ever had. Of course he wanted to be close enough to you to see inside your mind. 

But that was a long time ago. Yes, it had been 11 years since he’d seen you but it had been even longer since he’d seen you when you weren’t pissed at him. In fairness, he was pretty pissed at you, too, but you’d started it. 

And he wasn’t even sure why. He didn’t know what set you off to begin with. One night it was prom and the next thing he knew, you were gone. Taking off across the country before graduation without so much as a goodbye. You changed your number and your mom wouldn’t give it to him and you were just gone. Like the two of you hadn’t spent every day together for the last three years, like he had all meant nothing at all to you. 

Joel saved up the money to buy a bus ticket to your fancy fucking college, intending to find you there and demand an explanation, but that hadn’t gone as planned. He just settled into not knowing and not understanding why the most important relationship in his life had been ripped away from him without a word. 

But it had been a long time. He’d moved past the resentment of it and now he was all but awestruck at seeing you again. 

“Hey, do you want…” Tommy’s voice trailed off and his eyes tracked where Joel’s were looking. “Holy fucking shit, is that…” 

“Yup.” 

“Did you know she…” 

“Yup.” 

Tommy was quiet for a moment.

“Know she was gonna be here?” 

“Hell no.” 

Joel caught a glimpse of his brother nodding out of the corner of his eye - he wasn’t about to stop looking at you, he was worried if he did you might disappear again - and sighed. 

“You gonna talk to her?” Tommy asked after a moment. 

“No idea.” 

“Shit dude,” Tommy clapped his hand on Joel’s shoulder. “Good luck with… whatever the fuck is gonna happen there.” 

Joel glared at him for a second but kept his eyes on you. One of the other guys on the crew went to get the first round, something he appreciated because it meant he could keep watching you at a distance. He wasn’t sure what the fuck to say to you and he wasn’t about to just go talk to you with nothing to say. 

But then you went to the bar and a guy was clearly annoying the hell out of you and, before he really knew what he was doing, he was heading for you. 

“Hey, Goldie.” 

You looked at him for a moment. You looked as surprised to see him as he was to see you. 

“Hey, Joel.” 

He smiled a little wider. 

“Can I buy you a beer?” He asked. 

“You’re a bit late, I’m afraid,” you said. “Already put it on my tab. But that’s assuming the bartender remembers I exist which seems like it might be aiming a bit high…” 

Joel hung over the bar and hit the top of it a few times.

“Hey, Jimmy!” He yelled. The bartender whipped his head around. “Stop fuckin’ around, get my friend her shit, yeah?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, turning back to the woman he was talking to for a second before making you a shot first and then pouring your beer. He set both in front of you at the same time.

“Thank you,” you said, both to Joel and to Jimmy, and you did the shot, wincing as the tequila went down. 

Joel whistled

“Shit, you lookin’ to get fucked up?” 

“Well,” you coughed a little on the liquor before taking a sip of beer. “I already need to take an Uber home because the friend I came with is currently being devoured by that charming gentleman over there…” You nodded to a man at a table against the wall, a brunette draped across his lap who looked to be surgically connected to the man at the mouth. “So I figured, fuck it, may as well get hammered.” 

Joel laughed a little at that. 

“Since you’ve got no one else to get hammered with,” he shrugged. “Want to do it with me? Catch up a bit?” 

You thought for a second, taking a sip of beer. 

“Sure,” you said. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

Joel got a beer, too, and followed you back to your table before he settled in beside you. Part of it felt so natural, being next to you, but it was so different, too. You were different, fuck knows he was different. 

“So,” he said, watching you. “You’re in town.” 

“I am,” you nodded. 

“Visiting Anna?” He asked, even though he knew the answer. It had made news, the fact that you were coming to teach at UT.

“Work,” you said. “Moved back a few months ago.” 

“So what do you do now?” He asked. “For work, I mean.” 

“Teach, mostly,” you said. “I’m at UT now. Literature and creative writing.” 

“Seems right up your alley,” he nodded. “Always liked that sorta thing. You ever write that book?” 

You nodded, taking another sip of beer. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Just one, though.” 

“Ever publish it?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded again. “A few years ago…” Joel laughed and you frowned. “What?” 

“You really think I don’t know you wrote a fuckin’ book?” He asked. “Course I know you wrote a fuckin’ book. Jesus, Goldie, your name is on fuckin’ posters and shit! You think I live under a rock?” 

You laughed. 

“You dick!” You shoved him playfully. “Look, you’re basically illiterate, I didn’t want to assume…” 

“Hey just because I do shit besides read does not mean I’m illiterate!” He laughed. “You’re just a nerd…” 

“You only finished high school because I’m a nerd,” you rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure your coach was ready to make me an honorary member of the team since me hounding you about homework was the only thing that kept your ass grade eligible.” 

“Oh, you were the MVP,” he smiled, watching you take another sip of your beer and you smiled that amused little smile, the one you had when you were humoring him, the same one you’d had since you were 15 years old. “No question about it.” 

“Since you know all about me apparently,” you teased. “What’s been going on with you?” 

Joel shrugged, taking a drink. Mostly to buy himself time. 

Did he want to admit to you that he’d all but taken his life and driven it into the ground since he last saw you? 

Not that he ever felt like he had much potential, anyway. You and his mom had been the only people who’d ever really seen anything in him. But then you left and she died and was he even failing anybody anymore? Certainly not himself. And everything he did now he did to make sure he didn’t fail his daughter who, for the last 10 plus years, had been the only thing in his life that made it seem like all the shit was worth something. 

But he wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you about her, either. It seemed cheap, to bring her up in a bar to you of all people, one of the only reasons she existed in the first place. 

“Kept busy,” he said instead with a shrug. “Workin’ construction. Roped Tommy into it about a year ago, too. His dumb ass kept getting into it with people, told him I wasn’t going to keep bailing him out of jail if he didn’t at least look like he was trying to get his shit together.” 

You nodded and took another sip of beer. 

“Do you like it?” 

He shrugged again. 

“Pays the bills.” 

“Not what I asked, Joel.” 

He looked at you. You were watching him in that keen way you had, your head cocked slightly to the side, your eyes looking at him like you could cut through everything, everything he ever had or was or would be, down into the lanky boy he’d been when he’d first met you. 

“Not sure why it matters,” he said after a minute. “But it’s fine, I guess. Crew’s good. Work’s steady.” 

“It matters because you deserve something that fulfills you,” you frowned slightly. “Don’t you think so?” 

He laughed once, looking at you for a moment. 

“Haven’t thought about shit that way in a while,” he said. 

Since you left, he added silently. He didn’t say it. Wouldn’t say it, even though part of him wanted to. Wanted to demand an answer, wanted to yell at you, wanted to cry at you and make you answer for the destruction that you left behind you. Destruction that Joel wasn’t entirely sure he’d ever really recovered from, just found a way to live in the rubble of it all. 

But you were here now, talking with him again. 

“When was the last time we did this?” He asked. 

“Did what?” 

“Talked.” 

You smiled a little. 

“You mean besides the time you decided to yell at me about my romantic choices at my mother’s funeral?” You asked, brows raised. “Been a while.” 

“Since prom?” He asked quietly. 

He watched you clench your jaw before nodding and taking a drink. 

“Since prom.” 

Joel picked at the label on his beer bottle for a moment as you sat with your hands between your knees and looked anywhere but at him. Eventually, you picked up your drink glass again with your left hand and Joel traced your bare ring finger with his eyes. 

“Thinkin’ I might have been right about the romantic choices,” he teased lightly and you frowned before he nodded at your hand. 

“Ah, right,” you said, extending your hand in front of you and running your thumb over the inside of that finger like you would if there was a wedding band there. “Yeah, it turns out going on a book tour when your marriage is on the rocks isn’t the best way to handle things…” 

“Shit,” he shook his head a little. “I’m sorry, Goldie, that…” 

You scoffed. 

“No you’re not,” you put your hand back in your lap. “You hated him. You said all of three words to Gale and you hated him…” 

“OK first of all, his name was fucking Gale,” Joel cut you off. “And second of all, he was a fucking douchebag.” 

You snorted into your beer, coughing and choking on it for a moment and Joel clapped you on the back as you held on to the table, trying to laugh and breathe at the same time. 

“You alright there?” He asked, leaving his palm in the middle of your back. 

“Fine,” you coughed, pounding your chest with your fist. “I’m fine, I just… It’s so funny, but Gale isn’t even his birth name.” 

Joel gaped at you. 

“You’re shitting me,” he said. “That asshole chose the name Gale?” 

You nodded, still coughing and laughing. 

“He did,” you said. “He did, he thought it made it sound him more authorial and academic, he changed it before he started teaching. His birth name is fucking Bradley - his mom still calls him Brad - and I only found out when filling out the marriage license.” 

“What a fuckin’ dick,” Joel laughed, his hand still on you. He was touching you. He hadn’t touched you in so long and he was touching you. “Jesus Christ… Sorry if you’re still hung up on the guy but shit, you can do way better than that.” 

“It’s fine,” you laughed, calming down a bit and nodding to yourself. Joel watched you, uncertain. “Really, it is. I’m not going to pretend like I entirely agree with you but… things look different once you’re outside of the marriage and not in it anymore… Anyway. You married? Kids?” 

“Not married,” Joel said, still not sure how he wanted to tell you about Sarah. If he even should, if the two of you were going to just go your separate ways after tonight and never speak again it felt wrong to share her. “Not even dating, really. At least, nothing steady…” 

You laughed. 

“Christ, why am I not surprised?” You teased. “You always had a way with the ladies. Haven’t outgrown that yet I take it?” 

Joel smiled a little. 

“Why outgrow what’s fun?” 

You smiled a little back. 

“Fair enough,” you said. “Don’t you want that, though? Something stable?” 

“Is anything stable?” He asked. “Shit, half the people we went to school with now are fuckin’ divorced, what difference does it make?” 

“Yeah, I guess I am one to talk,” you said, polishing off your beer. 

Joel winced. 

“Fuck, not what I meant…” 

“It’s fine,” you shrugged. “I just… it didn’t work out and that’s that, right?” 

“Right,” he said, watching you closely for a moment. “Hey, since you’re lookin’ to get hammered and I don’t got shit else to do tonight… shots?” 

You laughed a little. 

“I don’t know that I want to get that hammered,” you said. “I’m not a teenager anymore…” 

“C’mon, Goldie,” he teased. “It’s on me. Plus it was my birthday the other day, gotta do at least one with me for that.” 

“Oh shit,” you said. “It was, wasn’t it? You turned 33 on… Monday? Monday, right?” 

“Right,” he laughed. “So, you in?” 

You laughed a little back. 

“Alright,” you said. “You’ve sold me. But I’ve got the first ones, it was your birthday, after all.” 

The two of you moved to open bar stools on the end of the bar and ordered the first two shots - tequila - and clinked your glasses together before downing them, slamming them down on the bar top when you were done. 

“See?” Joel teased. “You still got it in you.” 

“If you say so,” you coughed a little and then laughed. 

“Another?” He asked. 

You looked at him for a moment. 

“Fuck it,” you said and Joel flagged down Jimmy and ordered another round. 

By the time it was last call, your friend had come over to say goodbye, her lipstick smudged around her lips and the mouth of the man she’d been draped across, and the bar had gotten quiet, just a handful of stragglers left even on a Friday night. 

It took a few shots but you’d given up on keeping any distance from Joel at all, your bar stool sitting against his, your body pressed against his side, your head on his shoulder. 

“Hey Jimmy!” Joel slapped the bar top a few times. The man came over and leaned on the bar, looking at you tucked against Joel. “Think you can get me a cab?” 

“Sure as hell not lettin’ either of you two idiots drive,” he replied, going to get the phone. 

“Hey,” Joel nudged you. “Where… where do you live? Need an address, gonna get you home.” 

You thought for a second and then devolved into half drunk laughter. 

“I don’t know,” your words were slurred. “Oh fuck, I’ve only lived there like… a few… a few… fuck. When did I move?” 

“Before the school year?” He asked. 

“Right,” you nodded. “Prob’ly right, that’s… that’s when. S’not long. I don’t know where it is, oh shit…” 

“S’OK,” he said, putting an arm around you. “Just… just come home with me, s’fine.” 

“Yeah?” You asked, raising your head slightly. “You… you don’t mind?” 

“Don’t mind, Goldie,” he said gently. “Never mind, not with… not with you.” 

You nodded and dropped your head back to his shoulder. 

Joel had to half carry you to the cab and you dozed off against him on the drive, pressing your warm, soft body against his, passed out enough that you were drooling on the shoulder of Joel’s t-shirt, soaking through to his skin. He didn’t mind. 

“She gonna be alright?” The cab driver asked as Joel paid him and nudged you awake. 

“M’fine,” you waved him off. 

“You know this guy?” The man asked, watching you in the rear view mirror. 

“Him?” You asked, brows raised. “‘Course I know him, this… he’s Joel, he’s my best friend, s’fine.” 

The driver nodded once. 

“Good,” he said. “Take care of her, alright buddy?” 

“Sure,” Joel said, setting you down in the back of the cab. “Always have.” 

He got out and went around to the other door, almost tripping on the curb, before tugging you out of the backseat and against his side. You laughed and then shushed yourself. 

“Sorry,” you tried to whisper but failed. “S’late, I should be quieter….” 

“S’fine,” he slurred. “The neighbors think I’m trash anyway, not gonna ruin my reputation…” 

You snorted at that. 

“Assholes.” 

He helped you up to the front door and fumbled with the lock, the two of you stumbling in. Julie, Sarah’s babysitter, shot up off the couch, a groggy look on her face. 

“Wha?” She blinked for a second. 

You yelped and Joel shushed you.

“Sorry,” you failed at whispering again. “But Joel… there’s a teenager in… you’ve got a teenager on your couch.” 

“Yeah, she does that,” he tried to whisper back. “S’fine. How’d it go, Julie? Everything OK?” 

“All good, Mr. Miller,” she stretched and got up, meeting Joel in the entry way. “She went down at 9:30 after trying to talk me into watching Coyote Ugly…” 

“Oh lord,” Joel sighed. “Last thing she needs is to get it in her head that she should be singin’ and dancin’ on a bar…” 

“Don’t worry, I said no,” she smiled. “But I think one of her friends at school is obsessed with it, not sure how else she’d know about it… Anyway. How about you pay me next week?” 

“Oh shit,” he said, going for his wallet. She laughed. 

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” she said. “Not sure you’d remember paying me right now and I’m even less sure you can count.” 

“Thanks,” he said, grateful. “You drive safe, alright kiddo?” 

“Will do,” she laughed a little. “Night, Mr. Miller. And Mr. Miller’s… friend.” 

“Night!” You said, a little loud before clamping your hand over your mouth and laughing. Once the door was closed, you turned your attention back to him. “Ooooo you’re Mr. Miller now.” 

“Yeah, I’m gettin’ old,” he said, guiding you inside. “Here, I’m gonna put you to bed and then I’ll take the couch…” 

“You absolutely will not,” you snorted. “I’m… I can sleep on the couch, not… not letting you take the couch in your own house. ‘Specially not when you’re old enough to be Mr. Miller.” 

“Goldie…” 

“I will move and sleep on the floor.” 

He sighed and started moving you toward the couch. 

“You ever gonna be less stubborn?” 

“Nope,” you popped your lips on the p as he set you down. He got the blanket Julie had been asleep under and draped it over you as you snuggled into the couch. “Hey Joel?” 

“Hm?” 

“Who was that girl?” You asked, eyes already closed. “Why… why did you have a teenager in your house? This is your house, right?” 

“S’my house,” he said, tucking you in. “And don’t worry ‘bout it. Just go to sleep.” 

You yawned. 

“Thanks, Joel,” your voice was groggy. “For taking care of me. Missed you.” 

He stopped and looked back at you for a moment. 

“Missed you, too.” 

He went to bed, trying not to think of the last time you’d fallen asleep on him. 

***

The Morning After Prom

May, 2008 

The pink and orange of dawn woke you up. You were on Joel’s chest, his shirt unbuttoned so you could feel his skin on yours and your dress was still bunched around your waist from when Joel had slid the straps down your arms the night before. 

You enjoyed it for a moment. The feel of Joel’s skin, how his chest rose and fell with his breaths, how the early morning light caught in the curls that had broken free of the gel you were sure his mom had put in it the night before. He smelled good, like cologne - the kind that a man would wear, not the Axe shit that drenched the hallways of your school - and soap and a hint of sweat that just felt like the essence of him. You wanted to stay like this with him forever. Be this close, know him in this way. It felt right, it felt beyond just good. 

And then you remembered, you weren’t supposed to be here. 

“Joel,” you whispered, sitting up from him and shaking him gently but urgently. “Joel, wake up!” 

“Hm?” He mumbled, groggy, his eyes opening slowly. 

“We fell asleep,” you said, still whispering even though there was no one here to hear you. “We’re not supposed to be up here, we have to go!” 

“Shit,” he blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked you over and you were suddenly fiercely aware of how naked you were, how the light of day was creeping in and casting over your exposed skin. Joel reached out and cupped your cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to pass out…” 

“It’s OK,” you said quickly, clutching your dress over your naked breasts as you slid the straps back on. “But we should get home, we didn’t tell our moms that we were going to be out all night, I’m sure they’re pissed…” 

“It’s prom,” he said. “Think they expected it to be a late one. But… you’re right, we should get going.” 

Joel got up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. It wasn’t until you moved your lower half that you realized how sore you were between your thighs, your skirt falling back down to your feet. Joel held your hand for a moment once you were standing and his skin felt hot against yours. You dropped his hand and cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“You should button your shirt,” you said quietly, nodding to his bare chest. “And… um… Zip up your pants.” 

“Oh,” he looked down. “Um… Right. Right.” 

He moved quickly as you looked over as much of your dress as you could see and Joel used the glass of the press box as a mirror to adjust his hair. 

“Do I look OK?” You asked when he was done, turning so he could see the whole dress. “Not like… not like we….” 

“There’s… um…” he cupped the back of his neck awkwardly. “I think we made a mess of the back of your dress, I didn’t think… should have moved it, I guess…” 

“Shit,” you twisted, trying to spot it. “Do you think…” 

“Just don’t turn your back to your mom,” he said quickly. “Should… should be OK.” 

“Right,” you said. “Yeah, that’s… right. OK.” 

Joel led the way to his car and the two of you sat in silence on the ride home. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, his elbow propped on the door of the car, hand on his mouth, his face drawn. 

What were you supposed to do now? You’d never done… this. You’d never been in this position and now you were here with Joel, the person who was your best friend, the person you knew better than anyone else in the world, the person that everything had felt so right with it had been impossible to stop. 

But what did you do now? 

He stopped in your drive way and sat there, staring straight ahead. 

“Thank you,” you said. He looked at you, his eyes a little wide. “For taking me to prom, I mean. It was… I had… It was good. I liked it. It was good.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded after a moment. “Yeah, I’m glad I… got to go with you. To prom.” 

“Right.” 

You looked at him. You wanted to kiss him. Wanted him to hold onto you and tell you that everything was going to be OK and that you were going to figure this out and it would be you and him together just like it always had been. 

Instead, he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. 

“I’ve got church this morning,” he said. “And then we’re goin’ to help my grandma in the afternoon so I don’t think I can see you until tomorrow…” 

“I’ve got that doctor’s appointment in the morning,” you said. “So… I guess I’ll just… I’ll see you at school?” 

“Right,” he said. “Yeah, right. I’ll… I’ll see you at school.” 

You smiled tightly at him and leaned in slowly to kiss him on the cheek, hoping that he would turn his head and press his lips to yours the way he had the night before. 

He didn’t. 

“Thanks, Joel.” 

“Yeah.” 

You went inside and got undressed in your bathroom, looking at the stain on your dress, hoping you’d be able to get the stain of your blood and his come out before your mother noticed and it ruined anything else.

Next Chapter

A/N: Eeeeeeee! I'm so excited now that this story is properly going!

I hope you enjoy exploring Joel and Goldie with me. I really love their friendship and the way they care for each other and I think there's so much to explore with the both of them.

I do have an updates blog. Follow it here and subscribe for alerts when I post.

Thank you for being here! It really does mean so much to me to share this story with you. Love you!!

[hammity-hammer]

steve harrington realizing that he’s got no purpose if he’s not protecting the people he loves from outer-dimensional beings, and has a minor (read: major) spiral about it post-vecna & the party fixing everything. he’s just a regular ole 20 something with no purpose— his friends are all in school, except eddie, who managed to pick up an apprenticeship as an electrician; putting all of that wire knowledge to use (just not in cars, he hasn’t hotwired one since 1986 and he’d like to keep it that way si vous plais) and making the rich houses have even cooler guts than they deserve.

the kids end up graduating (their first tries) and heading as one little pack to the same school (don’t ask me which, i’m a college drop out) and steve, eddie, and rob end up staying just outside of indy. rob finished school early, because of course she did, and she found that she may have a knack for hanging around high schoolers, so why not teach them how to become polyglots like she is?

steve still doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing— he bartends at a little club in the gayborhood, because they went there so often that the bartenders just kind of pushed him into it, and don’t get him wrong— mixing drinks and flirting all night is super fun, but it also… is kind of depressing? even if he gets to be around people like him and see them happy— he knows that a lot of alcohol and drugs causes that happiness and he wants so badly for his people to be out and proud and not murdered for it. but he can’t do that,, so he does the next best thing.

he talks with one of the regulars, andy, who owns a little tattoo shop on the corner, and andy invites him to come check it out. so he does the next day he’s free, and holy fucking christ. tattoos aren’t his thing— at least not on himself, but on other people they’re gorgeous. and they’re painful, but you’re turning the pain into art and you get to live with it in your skin and look at it and think about the fact that you’re here and you made it and you fucking survived. and people purposefully put scars into their bodies? and not in the i-battled-literal-other-dimensional-beings-and-won kind of way, or the i-battled-my-personal-demons-and-won kind of way, which both are things he’s dealt with so fucking intimately— but in the i-will-decorate-this-flesh-prison-and-make-it-a-castle kind of way, and that’s fucking beautiful. queer people taking their bodies and making them into art with ink and hot metal and needles and the love that they have for each other and the passion and the fucking spite at the world that keeps them going and making their presences KNOWN.

and maybe he gets some piercings while he’s there— it’s fascinating and feels so weird and freeing when the needle punctures his flesh and the jewelry goes in— and now he’s got a shiny little ring hanging through his earlobe; his nostril; his lip.

he learns that piercings take time and effort and care and that he has to treat himself with love to be able to heal— and that he is deserving of that love and care and dedication, especially from himself.

he keeps going back, maybe not always to get stabbed, but to watch others have it done. to see how different people’s anatomy takes different piercings, how he can’t have a piercing through his cheeks because he bites them too much when he’s anxious, but the girl that just left got both of hers done and they looked good. they fit her face, like little shiny dimples.

eventually, the piercer, killie, asks steve when he’s going to help them with their needles and their piercings— and he doesn’t know how to react because he hadn’t even thought about it and yet… maybe he could help other people fall in love with themselves and their bodies and help turn them into art one day

maybe he could be a pretty boy with his scars and his metal and his missing chunks and his polos and his jeans and his sneakers.

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

hiiii i have a request <3 can u do one where reader is axl’s little sis and she goes to high school with izzy & axl and reader has a massive crush on izzy but izzy is strictly off limits bcuz of axl so they sneak away during school and izzy is more experienced than reader bcuz she’s inexperienced so he’s basically like teaching her things and corrupting her…maybe smut😏😏& one day axl catches them and throws a fit but then accepts it bcuz reader loves izzy <333🎀💞💞ty & i love ur writing !!! :))

A/n: I like the way I wrote this but I didn't add Axl catching them because there came an ending and I couldn't think of a way to add to it naturally, if you want a part two I can make one I just liked the way this was written lol

Warnings: Smut, fingering (f receiving), semi public sex, Izzy punches a guy, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Part 2

Axl had rules and you tried to follow them, it never was really hard anyway. Until, that is, he made a friend named Izzy. Izzy was tall with shoulder length black hair, tired eyes that stared at you with a coldness that had your legs weak in the best way.

Axl always said his friends were strictly off limits, you never had a problem with that. Until Izzy.

You whined on and on about how unfair it was that you weren't allowed to even think of liking one of his friends to him, you would receive the same answer every time. "There is no way in hell I'm letting you alone with my friends."

"Then why are you friends in the first place!" You'd yell as you sulked off.

Axl came into your room and told you he was sneaking out, nothing out of the ordinary, he did it more often than not and he told you as an extra precaution or something. You weren't sure but tonight you had a plan.

You were already dressed up and ready to leave with him when he came in around 12:00am. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" He asked, taken aback by your appearance.

"With you." You said simply.

Compared to Axl you were a sweetheart and weren't that into rock, at least you didn't dress the part. Earlier today you snuck into Axl's room and borrowed some clothes, a lettermen jacket and band shirt, Aerosmith. You paired them with jeans and cowboy boots before doing your makeup, making sure your lipstick popped against your features.

"There is no way in hell you're coming with me." He stated. "Especially not dressed like that." He said, gesturing to your get up.

"Come on!" You whined. "You're always picking on me about not being cool, can't I at least pretend for a night?" He chewed his cheek, you watched the gears turning in his head before he eventually sighed.

"Fine, but you don't leave my side, don't talk to anyone, and you're not drinking." You gestured to crossing your heart, smiling ear to ear as he helped you sneak out.

Once you were out of the house it was pretty simple, you'd walk down to the end of the neighbourhood where another of Axl's friends were, get in his car where Axl refused to leave unless he was sitting in the back with you, and then you'd drive off to some field. You preferred sitting alone in the back at first until more people got in, then Axl served as a shield.

The field in question was just another hang out spot for Axl and all his friends, older kids and a few younger kids who either thought they were the shit or were related to the shit, yourself included in the latter.

There was a bonfire and coolers full of drinks, smoke filled the air for more than one reason and you even saw a few used needles scattered from the adults who were only invited for their money and ID's.

Axl kept you right at his side through it all but as he started drinking it became harder for him to do so as you were on the lookout for Izzy.

You were about to give up on your search and just assume he wasn't coming out tonight but then you felt a tap on your shoulder. "Since when do you come out here?" He asked, leaning down so you could hear him over the music and yelling.

You shrugged, just happy to finally be in his presence. "I just thought it would be fun." You said with a smile, gaze falling to the ground.

"Fun, huh?" He glanced around, you knew it was to make sure Axl wasn't around to see. "You want some real fun?" He asked, his focus turning back to you. You nodded and he led you off somewhere.

Within the field there were bunches of trees, in one of these patches there was an old house that had been burned up. It was still standing but wasn't livable and was essentially deemed a hook-up shack.

You didn't want to just be a fun night for Izzy but you thought maybe if you could just have this then Axl would never know and you could move on.

You were just making excuses for why you were fine with this as Izzy started kissing down your neck.

His hands were under your shirt, pushing it up over your chest so he could grope you through your bra. You couldn't deny the excitement that it built inside you, the heat coursing through you every time you felt his lips on you or his teeth grazing your skin.

He took his hands out from under your shirt and got to work undoing your jeans which was when you finally stopped him. You were out of breath and your face was flushed a deep shade of pink though he couldn't see it. "I-I've never..." You trailed.

"Don't worry about it." He said, kissing your forehead. "I can teach you, sweetheart." He pulled your pants down and spread your legs a bit, just enough so your jeans were be about halfway down your thighs. "Tell me if you want to stop, alright? You can do that for me, can't you?" You nodded as his hand slid into your panties.

"Hah, fuck yes, I-I can do that." You smiled, hands going to his shoulders for stability.

Izzy let out a low chuckle as his fingers worked on your clit, rubbing it in circles. "Dirty mouth, huh?" He pressed his lips to yours and pushed a finger into you, causing a moan to leave you and fall onto his lips. "I need you to tell me what feels good, alright?" You nodded.

He started moving his finger, slow at first, just trying to find where you liked it. It was uncomfortable but that soon turned to pleasure when he curled his finger inside you. You gasped softly at the feeling, hips bucking instinctively.

"Oh, felt good, didn't it?" You let out a small whine as you nodded. "Come on, sweetheart, use your words, I'm not gonna bite." He kissed you. "Not unless you wanted me to."

"Please." You said, voice airy.

"Please?" He repeated. "Please, what?"

"I want you to bite me." You looked up at him with a lust filled grin, eyes begging for more.

"Really?" He asked, smiling back down at you. "I can't say no to you, now can I?" He kissed your forehead, then your lips before going back to your neck.

He kept a steady rhythm with his hand, hitting that same spot over and over, curling his fingers and rubbing your clit with his thumb. The chard wood and holes in the walls were useless when it came to concealing your noises but it was your first time and Izzy didn't want to quiet anything from you.

He bit your neck, sure to leave hickeys you'd have to hide from Axl and your parents. He told you how pretty you sounded, how good you were doing for him. "Let me know when you're close, alright?"

"Mhm~ I can- I can do that just please don't stop." You whined, knees buckling under your weight. Izzy pushed you against the wall, pinning your there so he could focus on making you feel good and not keeping you standing.

You could feel a ball of heat knotting in your gut you'd never felt before, Izzy could feel you squeezing him and sucking his fingers in deeper, he could tell you were getting close even without you telling him.

"Oh, isn't she a sweet one?" A new voice came.

Your eyes shot open and you saw a man who must've been in his late thirties at the earliest, he was big guy but clearly had more than a few drinks in him.

Izzy didn't think twice before pulling his fingers out of you, spinning and punching the guy square in the face. He went down without another word and hit the overgrown floors with a loud thud.

You were breathing heavy, eyes still wide as you stared down at the man. Izzy turned back to you and helped you get yourself covered once more before he led you out of the abandoned building.

You saw Axl passed out close to the edge of the field with some girl, they were both half naked. Izzy hid you behind him and got Axl up. The girl had apparently driven there and had no qualms with handing her keys over to Izzy so he could drive everyone home.

Axl was too drunk to realize you were the girl on Izzy's arm and passed out on the drive home.

Izzy parked just outside your house but you hesitated before getting out. "This is your place, isn't it?" He asked, though he knew the answer.

"Yeah, but... if Axl's coming with you why can't I?" You asked, looking up at him with a pout.

"Well," he sighed, scanning around for nothing in particular, "after tonight I think you should just get to bed."

You thought about what he said before shaking your head. "No, I want to stay with you." You remembered your thoughts going into the building, your worries of him treating this as a fun night and nothing more.

When he stared at you without giving you an answer you thought your worries were correct until he leaned towards you, throwing an arm over you shoulder and pulling you in for a kiss. "Axl will kill you if he finds out, you know." He whispered as he pulled away, just enough so he could speak, his hot breath still fanning over you.

"He wouldn't kill me." You stated, Izzy's brows raised. "He'd kill you." You finished with a smile.

"And you'd really take that risk?" You chewed your cheek.

"Maybe." You said finally. Izzy kissed you again.

"Tell you what," he started, "we can sleep in this car with your brother and what's her face and I'll wake you up and get you in your bed before five." You pouted, more at the idea of having to wake up at five.

"What if..." You trailed. You reached for his hand, playing with his long fingers. "You snuck into my room and left at five..?" You asked, nervously biting your lip.

Izzy stared at you for a minute. "You're idea's better." He said and quickly got out of the car.

And that was just the start of your sneaky endeavors.

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Ok, I just found your wonderful blog and can't help myself, I have to ask for a request TwT One of my too many ideas would be: HLC's reaction - professors included - to Mc's Excuse after MC was really mean in an argument. I have an almost-Slytherin-but-then-Hufflepuff-MC, so...xD If you would like to do that - pls feel free to make it as fluffy or serious as you like - it would make me "Happy as Fig"....yes, thank you a lot! <3

A/N: I feel this one on a personal level. Let's make it soft with MC saying sorry

HLC REACT TO MC APOLOGIZING AFTER A HEATED ARGUMENT

MC: They know there's no real excuse for what they said. They could give their reasons, prescriptive and feelings at the time of the argument but they can't un-say what left their mouth. They almost wished they knew how to use the memory charm. Then they might not be standing there awkwardly awaiting the judgment from their friends and professors.

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He sighs. "If we haven't been through what we have up to this point, I wouldn't accept your apology. But...we've both said things we regret. No point in dwelling." He smiles and offers the seat next to him for them to join him for study. When they sit down, he whispers out the side of his mouth. "Now, if you want me to forget, on top of forgiving you, you'll help me with my most recent relic discovery."

OMINIS GAUNT: He's been rigidly silent since the argument. MC almost walks away before he finally speaks. "I'm tired, MC. I'm tired of people hurting me. While I understand that words are difficult when emotions run high, please, don't say things you don't mean." His entire world is transcribed in sound, so people's words mean more to him than most. MC's apology better be sincere if they hope to keep him as a friend.

ANNE SALLOW: MC's apology leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, no matter how sincere they are. She's heard these types of "I'm sorry" speeches from Sebastian and her uncle before. Do they really expect her to forget everything just because they feel bad? "I'll accept your apology, on the condition that you don't speak to me like that going forward. If a conversation becomes too heated, I think at best if we take a break and let cooler heads prevail."

IMELDA REYES: "Oh, you're sorry? Go boil your head." She practically spits at them as she returns to what she's doing. She doesn't forgive easily. She's burned too many bridges in her life to care about one more. At least, that's what she keeps trying to tell herself. What MC had said really hurt and she hates the fact that they have that sort of effect on her.

NATSAI ONAI: "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have let my pride escalate things the way they did. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this position. It is big of you to apologize first. Thank you, my friend." She opens her arms for a hug. If MC isn't a hugger, she just gives them a smile.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He won't admit it to them, but he had screwed up more than one brew from accidentally crying into it. What they said really hurt and now that they were apologizing, he was struggling to keep it together. "No, I'm not- *sniff* crying. I got batwing fumes in my eyes. I....I just want us to be friends again, okay?"

LEANDER PREWETT: He didn't have much self esteem before he met MC, and now that his worst fears were confirmed by them berating him because he disagreed with them, he felt worse than ever. Hearing them apologize to him felt surreal. No one ever apologized to him. Somehow, he was always in the wrong. He feels more vulnerable than ever. "So...does this mean you don't hate me?"

AMIT THAKKAR: He stubbornly holds on to his frustration with MC. He KNOWS he's in the right. They were being unreasonable and resorted to insults out of egotistical retaliation. They surprise him when they come back. "I'll admit, I didn't think I'd see you again for a while. It takes a lot for someone to swallow their pride and admit they were wrong. Thank you, for apologizing."

EVERETT CLOPTON: He thought that was it. MC didn't want to be his friend anymore. He couldn't look them in the eye, even when they needed to tell him something important. He's stuck in his own head until he hears them say the words "I'm sorry." He snaps out of it and stares wide eyed at them. "Really? You mean it? This isn't...you're not messing with me, are you?" He needs some reassurance, but afterwards he'll forgive it easily.

POPPY SWEETING: "Well look who came crawling back." Her eyes are full of malice. This won't be an easy apology. As soft spoken as she is, her heart is hardened to people who've wronged her. It's her defense mechanism. MC will have to do more than say, they'll have to prove it.

~~~

MC's got a lot of gall to think arguing with their professors was a good idea.

ELEAZAR FIG: He knows them better than anyone else in the school. They'd come around, they just needed space. He hadn't punished them for what they said. He smiles warmly when they come back and puts a hand on their shoulder. "It takes a lot of courage to admit you're wrong. Thank you, for showing how much you've grown and matured. I know plenty of adults who wouldn't do what you've just done. They would double down, if anything else. I'm proud of you."

MATILDA WEASLEY: She had taken SO many house points. No one argues with the deputy headmistress and gets away with it unscathed. "It isn't to me you should apologize. I'm sure your housemates aren't too pleased to hear that they are now in dead last because of you. Better get to work earning those back."

CHIYO KOGAWA: "Nothing like manual labor to bring out the regret of one's actions." She had them organizing and repairing the quidditch supplies without magic. "Thank you for apologizing, now get back to it. The quidditch season may have been canceled this year, but it needs to be ready for the next."

AESOP SHARP: He gives them an indeterminate reply to their apology, but, deep down, he's impressed. While they had certainly gone too far with their argument, they apologized for making it personal. He can relate to being so passionate about something that you're willing to defend it, tooth and nail. That didn't stop him from taking house points and giving them detention. They were stuck organizing and counting the alchemy supplies.

ABRAHAM RONEN: He hadn't taken house points or given detention. While what they said was certainly disrespectful, he did not believe that the lashing of adolescence should be so strongly punished. They were clearly passionate about their argument. He only wished he could understand their point of view better. He's proud of them for apologizing and rewards them with house points.

MIRABEL GARLICK: As much as she tries to keep her teaching environment positive, she will not stand for disrespectful behavior. She takes house points and dismisses MC before she gives them detention. Her heart melts when MC returns looking so sorrowful and full of regret. She forgives everything and is willing to let bygones be bygones, just don't let it happen again.

MUDIWA ONAI: MC's boldness doesn't surprise her. As long as it was just the two of them, she was willing to let everything slide. If MC had tried doing that in front of students, she would have to make an example of them. She doesn't take house points or gives detention, merely expresses her disappointment. It must have done the trick, because MC almost immediately apologized.

BAI HOWIN: MC must have been aching to muck out the beast pens by hand, speaking to her in such a way, because that's exactly what they got. Three consecutive days of detention just to clean every single beast pen. She nods curtly when they apologize.

DINAH HECAT: She isn't phased in the slightest by MC's outburst, but her eyes tell MC they have gone too far. There's a darkness in them warning MC to back down before she puts them down. "I suggest you get to your next lesson, MC. Wouldn't want you to get lost. Hogwarts is as unforgiving as it is beautiful to those who exploit it's patience." She walks away, not particularly accepting or denying any apology.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He was taken aback by MC so fervently accosting him. He had never been spoken to in such a way by a student in life or in death. He wasn't really sure how to handle it. He gives them a nod when they eventually apologize. "Very good then. Now...in 1252, the goblins-"

SATYAVATI SHAH: She gave detention. That's where MC surprised her with their sincere apology. She narrows her eyes, searching for any sign of weakness. They passed. "I'm sure you've seen the error of your ways, but you still have to finish polishing all of the telescopes by hand."

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: They're lucky they weren't expelled for what they said. He haughtily huffs and shoos them away like they're an annoying gnat. "Your detentions start tonight. I suggest you get going." He did have slight satisfaction that they were apologetic, but that was likely only because they had detention every night for the rest of the year.