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GIRL WHERE DID U GO COME BACK

oh my god, i am so sorry 😭 i got really busy with my studies and just with life simply... i didn't have much time to write but the studies are over now (luckily) which means i'll have time again! i'm not sure if i'll continue with my writing though. i didn't really think anyone cared for it if i'm honest, that's why i disappeared without notice really? but this ask motivated me. a lot. so thank you! <3

would you like for me to continue writing?

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Fake Plastic Trees (M.H Sneak Peek)

An aspiring florist, a problematic rockstar and a meet-cute straight out of "Nottinghill". What could possibly go wrong?

Here's a small Sneak Peek of my up and coming Mini-Series, "Fake Plastic Trees"! What do you guys think of it? Also, fair warning, this isn't really proof-read... Enjoy!

Matty was stressed out. First of all, he had just finished recording with the band and was starving after not eating the whole morning. And second of all, he was in desperate need of a gift for his dear Mum.

Hurrying down the streets of the quiter part of London, his eyes darted around in search for a florist. 

He stopped in intrigue as he read: Fake Plastic Trees — and below it, windows full of blooming, fresh flowers and plants. How ironic, he thought to himself as he giggled and walked across the road, into the small boutique.

"Hello! Welcome to "Fake Plastic Trees". If you need any help, let me know." a voice rung out, in tune with the chiming of the bell that announced his entrance.

Matty bid a quick hello and thanks, before browsing around the store. He quickly realized how helpless he actually was, overwhelmed by the amount of selection the store offered. Flowers and Blossoms from everywhere, with exotic names and appearance, some looking to be straight out of a Sci-fi movie.

"Don't think I would go for those if you're looking for a Mother's day gift." Matty heard a voice speak behind him, slightly startling him.

"Hm?" he hummed out and turned around in confusion.

"The orange lillies you were looking at. Beautiful, I know. The meaning? Not as much..." she elaborated with a grin on her face.

He opened his mouth to ask further, but was quickly shut down when he saw who was speaking to him.

Gleaming eyes, a crooked smile, slightly freckled skin leading to a pierced nose and a small dimple on the upper-left cheek. She looked like the first day of spring, with a septum piercing.

His brain short-circuited as he kept closing and opening his mouth, blubbering out a "Why?" after an embarassingly long wait.

"To keep it short, it symbolises hatred and disdain. So, unless you have a complicated relationship with your Mum, not my first choice." she explained with a small laugh at the end because of his antics, he really seemed out of it when he first caught sight of her.

"That's definitely not the type of vibe I'm going for... Anything you would recommend?" he chuckled out in slight embarassment, a rosy hue dusting his ears.

"Maybe another colour variation? Pink lillies for example! They symbolise femininity, admiration and love, often the one between parent and child." she ranted excitedly.

Seeing someone talk about something they genuinely loved was one of the most adorable things in Matty's eyes. He could listen to her going on and on about the mysteries of the flower language all day, if it meant seeing that grin and dimple.

To be continued...

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Fake Plastic Trees (M.H Teaser)

She looks like the real thing She tastes like the real thing My fake plastic love

An aspiring florist, a problematic rockstar and a meet-cute straight out of "Nottinghill". What could possibly go wrong?

This idea has been stuck in my head this entire week and I thought I'd share a small teaser to see if people were even intrested in it. I haven't started developing it too much but here's a little sneak-peek... What do you think?

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Long Way Home (M.H)

Summary: Heading home with a very tipsy Matty, who's too cute for his own good.

Word Count: 648

Warnings: Use of alcohol

Author's note: Hope you guys like this short little imagine, and as mentioned before: Asks and requests are open! I'd be more than happy to accept them.

The air was sticking to her skin and the whole room was thumping, a low bass spread throughout and within. The noise was blending into one, the laughter of the drunken crowd, the club classics egging everyone on, the occasional shouts of a name, and the little whisper of: "There you are, love."

She turned around, focus set on the voice that had just appeared behind her. She knew exactly who the man tumbling on both of his feet was, hands gripping onto her frame in desperation.

"Matty," she sighed softly, somehow relieved to see his face again after losing him in the crowd yet also concerned, seeing the state he was in.

He hummed as her hands came to rest on his waist, an act of stability. He smiled goopily, a twinkle in his eyes as his forehead came to rest on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she spoke into his ear, to which he responded with a quick nod of his head.

"Couldn't be better, now that I found you." he mumbled into her skin, putting his whole body weight onto the girl, leading to her tumbling behind a bit.

"Ironic to hear from someone who can barely stand," she chuckled out, trying to balance herself with him leaning onto her.

"I can very much stand on my own, thank you!" he huffed out in frustration, backing away from her support and demonstrating his skills by standing still on his feet.

Ultimately, he failed. His two left feet tripping over eachother in some bizarre way, looking like he was demonstating a new dance move he had learned as he almost came crashing down to the muggy floor.

"Matty!" she gasped as she reached to put her arms around him, somehow saving him from collapsing.

He blinked at her, her arms around his waist and his gripping her shoulders. He opened his mouth to defend his antics, only to close it when she shot him a mean look.

"'M sorry," he murmured in a defeated tone.

"It's alright, honey. Really," she said, reaching up to quickly adjust his tie and move his curls out of his sight.

"You think it's time to go home yet?" she teased him slightly, loving to take the piss out of him, even more in his overly tipsy state.

"Stop it!" he cried out, embarassed that probably everyone saw his little show.

"Come on now, cutting the drinks for tonight! Don't want to carry you home on my back," she laughed out, walking through the crowd cautiously with a whole body leaning onto her side.

"Fine... only because I love you. And because Ross stole my last drink," he muttered the last part, leading to her swatting his shoulder.

"Hey!" he scowled jokingly.

"That didn't hurt, crybaby! You know you always bite me," she mocked, followed by a soft sting on her neck and a huffed laugh onto her skin.

"That was not an invite!" she gasped out at the action, his face nuzzling into her collarbone.

"You know you like it..." he breathed out, as they finally reached the exit of the humid club.

"Maybe I do," she grinned down at him, the head of curls tickling at her neck with yet another small bite following and a giggle.

"Stop messin'! Let's go now," she breathed out, calling for a cab on the curb.

"Can I atleast stay at yours tonigh? Please?" he drew out the beg, the words dripping with desperation.

"Matty, honey... We live together," she giggled at his headlessness, his cloudy state making him forget their recent move-in.

"Oh! Right!" he gasped out happily, overjoyed by the realization as a cab pulled up to the pavement, tires screeching in the quiet night.

"Let's head home, shall we!" Matty eagerly spoke as he opened the car door, losing his balance slightly.

Oh God, this was going to be a long night.

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104 Degrees (M.H)

Summary: Meet-cute with Matty, loosely based on "104 Degrees" by Slaughter Beach, Dog.

Word Count: 667

Warnings: This is disgustingly cute, my teeth are rooting from the sheer amount of sweetness.

Author's note: I haven't written in a long time, so bear with me. If you have any requests for blurbs or imagines, send an ask! I would love to write more for Matty. :)

It was the first day of summer in London. The midday sun was blazing down, distinct shadows of each tree cast down upon the bustling streets.

Matty was sweating, the sun beating down and the lack of water didn't help in any way. Maybe a trip to the bookstore in this unbearable summer heat wasn't a smart choice in hindsight, atleast so he thought.

He stepped out of the small boutique, a bag filled with books in his hand. Beads of sweat were forming on his hairline and even in his linen shirt, he felt clammy. Looking through the crowd, he observed each and every one of the passersby.

Families with their children, sticky ice-cream-covered hands gripping at their parents'.

Groups of teens going on shopping sprees, clad in the hippest clothes and iced coffees in their clasp.

Oh.

His eyes suddenly landed on something, or rather someone. There she was, sitting alone on a bench just outside of his go-to café. The swarm of people simply blending into one mixture behind her, leaving only her figure in focus.

A book in hand, which he promptly recognized to be Murakami's "Kafka on the Shore", and a pair of deeply tinted shades sat on her nose.

He knew it sounded cheesy, even cringing at his own internal thoughts at that second, but he was taken, completely and utterly enthralled.

He watched as her hands reached up to tie her hair, how the sweat stuck to each strand at the back of her neck.

He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but he was abruptly pulled out of his trance when her gaze lifted to look at him. His unbelieving stare reflected in her dark set of sunglasses.

She smiled at him.

His brain short-circuited. Good God, what was he doing! Smile back, you idiot!

He grinned, after an embarassingly long second, and lifted his hand up to wave at the woman. The next thing he heard was a crash.

Oh no...

His books went tumbling down onto the pavement and right at that moment, he wanted to be swallowed whole. Change his name and forever disappear, preferably to somewhere a bit colder.

He quickly reached down to collect his clumsy mess, hastily shoving it into his totebag in hopes of her not having seen his little accident.

He reached to grab ahold of his last book, ironically another work of Murakami's: The Wind-Up Bird. His hand instantaneously covered by a foreign one, trying to help him by picking up the last piece.

"Thank you..." he spoke softly to the stranger and smiled looking up. He was met with his own reflection yet again, which slowly disappeared as the stranger lifted up her shades, revealing her glimmering eyes.

"You're welome," she said in an amused tone, clearly having seen his antics.

Matty's face turned beet-red. This couldn't get any worse, could it?

"Uhm," he started trying to piece together a coherent sentence. Why was he like this! His usual, overly-confident self was gone, off on holiday and never to be seen again.

"Nice choice," she stopped his blubbering and handed him the book.

"Yeah... One of my friends recommended it to me," he spoke out nervously, reaching up to adjust his curls.

"Thanks again, for helping me and all," he chuckled out softly.

She hummed in response, grinning up at him and opening her mouth to respond, just to be cut off by the overly-eager man.

"Do you want to get something to drink? So I can pay you back for your kindness y'know," Matty offered hastily, beaming at the woman he had yet to know the name of.

Overtaken by his sudden confidence, the woman beamed back at him. Internally, she was going crazy. The minute she saw him step out of her favourite bookstore, she knew she was done for. The way his curls feel onto his forehead, how the light linen shirt contrasted his dark tattoos.

Oh God. She was entranced.

"I would love to."