#so like. instead of 'this is ross‚ he's my friend‚ and i love her'

[purpleheartemote]

what do you mean by no pronouns? i’m a little confused

prefer just being called one of my names instead of pronouns being used. think of that meme that’s like “This is Bill. Bill doesn’t care whether someone does [x] or [y] for [z], be like Bill.”

[samboverse]

I think my fave part about oc ships isn’t when u shove two characters together and make them kiss, it’s when you create the scenario that ends in their kiss. Something about the pining turns me into a feral dog chomping on lettuce

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #245

[syndxlla]

best friends don’t look at each other the way we do

A low stakes, high reward, and self-indulgent Zelink fan fiction. Canon-compliant. Takes place between BOTW and TOTK.

Heavily inspired by my Zelink thoughts

I wanted to dig into the dirty, grimly reality of being the saviors of the world and not knowing how to be the savior of yourself. But you can find that safety in another person.

Fan fiction warnings: Canon-typical violence, eventual smut (in later chapters, characters are consenting adults), references to self-harm, eating-disorders, and a lot of angst. Each chapter will have chapter-specific warnings.

Chapter one: I used to tie your shoes

Song: We’ll never have sex by Leith Ross

Summary: Fresh off Hyrule Field, Link and Zelda have to face life after the Calamity, and come to terms with the long road to physical, emotional, and mental recovery.

Warnings: Vomiting, trauma, canon-typical violence, eating-sensitivity

Word count: 3.7k words

Author’s Note: I am so excited to share this. Please share and support this in anyway. I drew this art for the cover :) chapter begins after the page break. I love you guys. Also, these chapters won’t be heavily edited. Ignore any grammatical/spelling errors pls

Time. We never seem to have enough time. Green grass burns soft red embers into the field, a horse’s mane is rebraided at the nearest stable, and the stars shine as if nothing changed. Because it hadn’t, not really. The sun will still rise in the east and set in the west. The birds will still sing their songs at daybreak and the fireflies will still flicker at dusk. Nothing changed, but everything did. The air feels lighter, the sun feels warmer and yet Zelda’s fingers still shake as if she was in the snowy Hebra peaks.

The Princess by nature, is very gentle. She’s soft and patient at heart, but was placed under such strenuous situations all through her youth that caused her to often snap or lash out. But not now. Currently she is silent, stone-cold and confused. She was in shock. And Link could tell.

“Here.” He pulls out a baked apple from his pack, handing it to her. He has to get her attention twice before she finally takes it, their hands brushing for a moment. Her awareness returns to her gaze then, her bright-green eyes meeting his.

“I-I’m so sorry.” She sighs, her voice weak. “I’m just… so tired.” Link tries not to show his distress, but she notices his demeanor change as well. “How much further?” She says, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“Probably another hour and a half. It’s just through those mountains.” He points.

“Dueling peaks. I remember.” She nods. “I remember everything.”

“Everything?” He asks as he starts to dig around a pack on the rear end of Epona, searching for his rito attire. It was starting to get dark, and she hadn’t stopped shaking since they left Castle Town almost three hours ago.

Zelda nods once.

Her silence speaks volumes.

He yanks out his snowquill armor, finally. “Do you remember anything from the last hundred years?” She doesn’t answer right away, she instead takes a smaller than small bite out of the apple. “Zel? Can I put this on you? You’re still shivering.” He asks, looking at her blank, traumatized stare. “It’s from the Rito, it’s soft as a cloud and will keep you warm for the rest of the way.”

“The Rito.” She sighs. “Revali…”

Link realizes that she hasn’t had any time to process what she just went through. She had spent the last one hundred years deeply focused, probably in a trance-like state. He places a hand on her cheek. “Look at me.” His voice is gentle and welcoming, not forcing her at all. She looks at him, their eyes locking. “Breathe with me.”

They take two deep, heavy breaths. They sync their inhales, exhaling together.

“It’s over. It’s all over, okay?” He reassures her. “It’s not coming back. It’s just us now, alright?”

She swallows, still emotionless. “You’ve changed.” She says.

“So have you.” Link smiles in an attempt to comfort her. “Can I put this shirt on you?” He asks again. She answers faster than she usually had, nodding twice this time. Link bunches up the excess fabric before pulling the head-opening over her hair. He then guides each one of her hands through the arm-holes. Link takes a moment to adjust the garb around her torso until it was probably positioned around her shaking body. She immediately sighs in relief.

“You talk more.” She mumbles, looking at him as he gently wraps his fingers around her long, golden hair and softly pulls it out of the shirt, knowing how much it irritates him when his hair is loose underneath a shirt.

He smiles again, “I do. Some people say I don’t shut up.” He tries to lighten the mood.

“Like who?”

“Impa.” He sighs.

Zelda’s eyes light up with that name. “Impa?”

He hums and nods. “We can go visit her when you’re feeling stronger, okay?”

“Okay…” Zelda looked down into her lap, the skirt of her goddess dress was barely white anymore. “I am going to get stronger, right?” She asks, her voice tender and broken.

Link’s heart sinks. Not because he’s worried she won’t, but rather because he feels responsible for putting her in this state.

“Of course.” He reassures. He believed it. He wanted to believe it.

“I’m… just so tired.” She repeats herself.

“I know, come on, let's get you a bed.” He then picks her up bridal style from the ground. They had stopped in the first place to get that rito armor for her. She rests her head against his chest as he lifts her onto Epona. She smells like burnt oil and exhaustion. He probably isn’t smelling any better.

They wouldn’t get to Hateno until noon at the earliest tomorrow, and traveling wasn’t doing anything for her recovery. He gets on Epona behind her, letting her weak body rest against his chest as they make their way to Dueling Peaks Stable. The road is quiet, so much quieter than it ever has been. The pair of lizalfos always swimming in the river aren’t there, and even the crickets suppress their chirps.

It’s post-apocalyptic. Literally. Link isn’t sure how to feel.

She throws up a few hundred feet from the stable. She gags and lurches over the side of the horse, somehow managing to keep it off of anyone. Not much comes out, she hasn’t eaten in over a century, but Link frowns when he realizes the apple probably triggered it. He silently curses himself out for causing her any form of distress. She dry heaves violently, and Link tries to hold her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. When she finishes, she holds her breath.

She can’t decide if she feels like she lost a bit of dignity or not. She holds back the tears that well in her eyes. Link breathes in to say something, but she raises her hand in protest. She would rather they act like it never happened. Neither of them say anything from there on, they just keep riding the final minute of the journey.

Everyone at the stable was asleep except for an attendant… who was also treading precariously between consciousness and a deep rest behind the counter.

“Excuse me?” Link asks to wake him up, hopping off of Epona after making sure Zelda would still be comfortable in his absence. She would never admit she wasn’t.

The man stirs awake with a jolt. He yawns, slightly startled, “So sorry, young man.” Link wouldn’t necessarily call himself young. He smirks softly.

“I’d like to board this horse till the morning, and we’d like one soft bed, please.” Link nods before setting down the required rupees. The man squints his eyes, taking the money in hand.

“Ah! It’s you! Link, was it?” He asks when Link turns his back to help Zelda down from the horse. “Jeez, you haven’t passed through here in at least six months! We were holding onto that old mare for you!” He gestures to their stables where a small gray spotted horse sleeps. Link’s first horse since he woke up from his century-long slumber. He only rode her in the beginning, when he was doing chores between Hateno, Kakariko and one time a longer trip to Zora’s Domain. But she’s old and weak, which is why she was easy to catch when Link was still regaining his strength. He stopped taking her out when he found Epona in the western part of Central Hyrule.

“Yeah… you guys can let her free.” He says as he sets Zelda down on the ground. She holds her cold hands together.

“Well uhh.. we tried. You see, after four months at a stable we let go of any forgotten pony’s, but she kept coming back.” He chuckled, his voice exhibiting a distinctive nasality.

“Here,” Link hands him a red rupee, not wanting to discuss an old horse any longer when he literally has the closest thing to a God in this world resting her head on his back. “Keep her for another month, I’ll come take care of her then. Okay?” Link asks. “Can I get that bed now?” Not impolite or forceful, he never was. He’s assertive but has a comforting cadence to his tone. For being such a talented swordsman, guard and easily the most deadly hylian in the entire kingdom, he was never rude or condescending. He was welcoming, and little kids often looked up at him with intimidation when they first met him, but it didn’t ever take long until they were chasing him with tree-branches while he fled and begged for mercy, letting them take him down with ease. The kids at the stables loved him, knew him by name, and would play as him in their silly pretend games.

The stable-man replies, “Of course! But you only asked for one bed, it’s not big enough to fit both of you.”

“I know, it’s for her not me.” Link then starts to guide her into the stable, where it’s much warmer and safer. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean it's safe. Hyrule is a dangerous place by nature, especially if you’re two century-old Gods being hunted for sport with the faces of children.

“You won’t sleep?” Zelda asks quietly behind him.

He doesn’t directly answer, and instead guides her to the bed. She’s weary, and he’s terrified of her not waking up. He wouldn’t be able to sleep even if he wanted to. He helps the Princess sit in the bed, and kneels before her to untie her sandals. When he touches the leather, he immediately gets transported into another memory.

It rips through him, just like the memories he had images of. Suddenly, he’s kneeling in the same position, but instead he was outside of the spring of courage. He looks up to see the clear sky, it’s sunset, and then his eyes meet Zeldas. Her face is rosy, and her eyes don’t have the blank stare they possess in the current time. He looks down at his fingers, tying the straps around her ankle.

“Really, you don’t have to do that.” She hums. He doesn’t respond. He never did back then. He finishes wrapping the leather around itself and then stands up. His face is emotionless. She looks at him, they’re about the same height. “I won’t be long this time.” She says. “I’m not expecting much anyways.” She sighs and then walks past him, but before she can get very far, he gently grabs onto her arm, holding her back. He doesn’t say anything but she can read his expression. He’s trying to tell her to have faith this time, just one more time.

Surely the Goddess would commune with her.

She shakes her head, and wades into the warm waters of the spring. Link turns to watch her, how her hair cascaded down her back, how her hands balled into fists. She turns around to look at him, their eyes meet. She smiles.

He comes back as fast as the scene played in his memory. He blinks a few times, and looks up at her. She doesn’t look any different, very little—if any—time seemed to pass. He doesn’t usually experience memories with someone, he wonders if she realized anything happened. Link didn’t even consider the fact he would keep receiving memories after the fact. His stomach turns, he feels like he’s lived two completely different lives and is forced to remember things from one that he doesn’t even relate to anymore. He doesn’t feel like the same person, the boy he was a hundred years ago is a complete stranger to him.

Link much preferred this life.

And that scares Zelda.

“I just remembered something.” He says. Zelda hums in response, a light-hearted noise that implies an inquiry. He elaborates, “I used to tie your sandals for you at the springs, didn’t I?” He asks.

Zelda smiles for the first time since they defeated Ganon. It’s a small pull of her lips, not showing any teeth but her eyes finally light back up. After she had asked if he remembered her on the field, she collapsed, not even aware of her own exhaustion until that moment. He ran to her aid, and ever since then she felt woozy, it only got worse the further from the castle they got.

“You did, yes.” She says. “I never asked you to, but since I was in the dress, you insisted.” She sighs. Link grunts in response. “It was very chivalrous.” Zelda adds.

They look at each other for a minute. Not saying anything. It was late, and two beds down there was a set of kid brothers sleeping. Link remembered them from their last visit. One of them wanted nothing to do with him, trying to act mature and ‘cool’. Link eventually won him over, though. They don’t speak out of fear of waking anyone. Zelda’s smile slowly fades away, and Link swallows thickly. They will never be the same.

He pulls her sandals off, her feet are filthy with century-old mud. He silently smiles about that. The closest thing to a Goddess in the entire world has dirty feet. How human of her.

Then, after pulling down the heavy rito-down blanket so she can slide in, he helps Zelda swing her legs into the bed. He pulls the blanket up to her neck, she lays on her side facing him. Her hands find their way up to her face, resting her cheek against them. Link pulls a short stool over to the bed, sitting on it and looking at her, bending at the waist.

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” She asks in a timid, sleepy voice.

Link’s heart just about breaks when she asks. “Never.” He shakes his head. He takes his gloved hand and tucks a piece of her loose hair behind her pointed-ears. He lets his fingers linger a little bit longer than they should. “I will never ever leave you again.”

“Promise?” She asks, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“Promise.” He whispers, “Just as long as you promise to never leave me, okay?” He asks, ignoring the lump in this throat.

“Promise.” She says, taking her pinky finger and sticking it out for him. He wraps his finger with hers, which is far daintier and softer than he's ever been. She is a Princess, after all.

“Wake up in the morning, okay?” He whispers.

“Mhm.” She hums as her eyes slowly close. He tries to disconnect their pinky fingers, but she holds onto his. He leaves his hand in that position, letting her hold it until she falls fast asleep.

Link doesn’t move his hand until he’s certain it won’t wake her up from her much needed rest. He looks at her gentle, soft face. No one even understands what she just went through, no one ever will. He’s worried sick that she won’t make it through the night, and he keeps leaning his head down to listen to her breathing, or places a few fingers against her forehead to check her temperature.

He does his best to stay vigilant the entire night, not once even looking away from her. But just before the sun rises, his body suddenly catches up with his mind. He also just had the most demanding battle of his life. His muscles started to ache, and he developed a headache. He was just a boy, after all. More than anything, his sword arm was weak, and fire-hot pain shot up and down through it. He probably overused it fightin the calamity.

He keeps telling himself that he’s fine. He has to be fine, for Zelda. His arm isn’t that bad, what really hurts was his heart. Usually he’d just down a fairy tonic and maybe go to the hot springs if he was in the area but this pain was different. A twisting and contracting ache in his chest pulled and tugged on his lungs and pulse. It’s the same pain he felt when he remembered Mipha, and more specifically, the pain he felt when he dreamed about his family before the resurrection.

The dream that gave him the memories of a little sister with blonde hair like his collecting fireflies in her pockets. Her laugh echoing, the call of an older man, the image of a royal guards sword leaned up against the dinner table. The touch of his father’s hand as he rubs Link’s back to sleep.

Link’s first sword.

He wakes up like a fire, standing up and almost toppling over. He didn’t even realize he had fallen asleep. He could hear the soft tune of the penny whistle playing the standard stable theme, and the two little brothers played tag outside. He curses and looks down at Zelda.

Her bed is empty, and his heart completely stops. He starts breathing hard and heavy, his entire nervous system feels as though it’s pulled into stasis. How could he make such a foolish mistake? He swings his sword over his back, strapping his shield to his leathers and turns around in a wild-hunt to see the Princess sitting at the round stable table, drinking out of a mug and speaking gently with an older man.

Link takes a breath of relief, and approaches the two.

“Good Morning.” She smiles up at him. Her voice sounded much better, and her eyes finally had life back into them, but she still wasn’t herself. Her skin still looked sickly, her face hollowed out and eyes droopy. Any progress is good progress, Link decides then and there.

“I… didn’t mean to fall asleep.” Link sighs. “I’m so sorry. When did you wake up?”

“Oh not long ago, maybe twenty minutes? I didn’t want to disturb you-”

“You should have.” He interrupts her and her words get swallowed out of surprise. Link realizes that he snapped at her a little, and immediately becomes apologetic. “I’m sorry, again. I just…”

“You’re worried about me. I understand.” She takes his hand, her bones frail. In many ways, she physically looked worse today than last night. But at least she could hold a conversation. He nods. Zelda notices the tension, and changes the subject, “This kind gentleman was telling me about when you saved the stable from a horde of lizalfos about a year ago.”

Link looks over at the man, Giahzo. “Oh that was nothing, it was just two green lizalfos and a blue one who wandered too close to the stable.” Link hums. Their hands were still held together by Zelda.

“Don’t be so modest!” The old man chuckled, “Without you, it would have been a disaster! The number of monsters means nothing, especially when you don’t know how to fight!”

“That’s very kind of you.” Link smiles and then realizes he and Zeldas hands, he’s the one to pull it away. “What are you drinking?”

“I’m not sure…” Zelda begins and Link immediately snatches the mug from her hand. “Hey!”

“You can’t just drink something mysterious.” Link scolds.

“Oh it’s just a bit of Hateno Milk.” The man assures. Link looks at him, then Zelda, and then into the mug to see the creamy liquid. He brings it to his nose and smells it, and then takes a sip of it. Sure enough, it was just milk.

“I’m sorry, Giahzo.” He apologizes and places the mug back down. “I’m just on high alert.”

“Do not apologize to me, apologize to this lovely young lady you’ve graced us with.” The elderly man smiles with a chuckle, his eyes wrinkling up with his age. Zelda smiles, blushing a little, “Tell me, dear, where are you from? We don’t get many new faces at this stable these days.”

Zelda looks at him, her eyes sad. A hundred years ago every person in Hyrule knew her face. She looks at Link, unsure how to answer.

“She’s from the Outskirts stable.” Link covers for her. “Her family used to reside in Central Hyrule before the Calamity.”

“Yes.” Zelda immediately chirps, “We’re headed to Hateno for…”

“A honeymoon!?” Giahzo smiles brightly. Both Link and Zelda freeze in their tracks, and Link hopes he doesn’t look as embarrassed as he feels. “Hateno is a great Honeymoon destination! Although I’ve heard Lureline is even more splendid!” He clasps his hands together.

“Research.” Zelda clarifies, “so sorry to disappoint.” She chuckles politely, making a conscious effort not to look at Link. “I’m researching… population dynamics in Hyrule.” She makes something up that sounds completely believable.

“Of course.” Link then says, “I’m just escorting her there, we are total strangers.”

That breaks Zelda’s heart.

She knows he’s just trying to be extra careful, pushing her anonymity as much as possible. And in a way, it wasn’t a total lie. But it cut her like a knife.

“I see…” Giahzo doesn’t seem convinced. “Well, if you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to stop by. Hopefully the monsters will start to die down.” He smiles and stands up, moving outside.

Zelda is still afraid to look at Link, and he’s a little bit shaken up by the entire interaction. He knows the Yiga are still out there, he knows that there are people who will try to take advantage of her for power or money. He has no reason to suspect anything from the old man, but he can’t help himself from being deliberate. He senses her tension and walks back to the bed to gather their things.

“You should have woken me up.” Link says as he picks up a satchel full of food and readjusts his gloves.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice was timid and tired. He turns around to see her, her green eyes looking up at him apologetically. “I didn’t know it would worry you so.” He approaches her.

“Of course it worries me.” He sighs. “I spent three years trying to get you out of that castle, I’m not gonna lose you on the first night.” He holds his hand out for her to trade, helping her up. She must not have rested as well as he thought, because as soon as she gets on her feet, she almost topples right over him. He catches her, holding her up before she collapses. “Woah there.” He mutters. “You alright?”

She nods, “Let’s just get to that house you told me about.”

—

chapter two

[chessholic]

The One With

Comfort

ー

　　　　 F R I E N D S

X

R E A D E R

　　　 　ー

Summary: Your boyfriend was a jerk and he broke up with you. Fortunately you had your friends and all of them helped you in their own ways.

ー　

Author's Note: I will forever love Friends, my favourite comfort show. I have a few fics written about Joey, I could maybe publish them. Let's see, I hope you enjoy this.

ー

You stumbled into Monica's and Rachel's apartment.

To simply put it you looked disheveled. Your eyes were slightly red and puffy, hair a mess and your clothes didn't match your jacket or shoes, which was unusual.

You cursed slightly when you could see six pairs of eyes staring at you, of course they were all here. If they were not in the coffee shop they were here.

"Y/N?", Monica asked rushing towards you from the kitchen.

"What happened?", she asked worriedly and brushed your messed up hair behind your ears. Monica also helped you out of your jacket and helped you to sit on the couch.

Chandler was sitting on the other side and you could see he was holding back some sarcastic comments about your current state.

You were slightly glad, you always found him funny, but this was definitely not the moment.

Phoebe had been sitting on the floor in front of the television. She had her guitar and was writing down something, probably a new song for next week.

Central Perk was in for a treat.

The song title was 'My mother was killed by a drug dealer, my mother was a drug dealer'.

Joey was in the kitchen sitting at the table finishing off something from the fridge it was apparently a jar of jam, maybe blueberry jam. However his eyebrows were scrunched in worry.

Rachel was sitting around the table too with Ross, both looking slightly amazed at Joey's eating, that wasn't probably his first jar of jam.

They were probably leaving to go on a date soon, because they were all dressed up. It made your heart ache.

"He left me", sob escaped your mouth shortly after your confession.

The apartment was filled with different reactions.

Monica was first to close you into a tight embrace petting your hair.

"I am so sorry, we could bake cookies today and burn some of his belongings?", your friend suggested while trying to calm you down. She was quick to offer you a tissue box.

"He took them with his new girl when he came and broke up with me", you cried still distraught about the fact he had cheated and moved on so fast like you never existed.

"Let's burn him instead, yea?", Chandler proposed and scooted closer to you rubbing your back slightly awkwardly, you knew it wasn't his expertise to console someone if sarcasm was off the table.

You let out a watery laugh muttering a quiet thanks to him.

"Yeah, we don't need to go with Ross, he was anyways taking us to some lecture about... Rocks", Rachel joined walking towards the living room and stole you from Monica. While Ross choked up.

"They are not rocks, they are... Well technically they are..."

Rachel hugged you tightly while she gave a deathly glare at Ross shutting him up.

"I am sorry, that jerk didn't deserve you. Let's go shopping some day, okay? We can use my discount", she took your face in her hands and you nodded eyes shining.

In your sad tears had mixed happy tears, you had amazing friends. You couldn't help, but feel thankful.

"My grandmother's taxi can fit a body in the trunk", Phoebe said suddenly getting up to give you a hug.

"Noted, don't piss off Pheebs, ever", Chandler said while others didn't even know what to say. Everyone however had the same question in mind.

"We can also make a song together, I could also use some inspiration and break up songs are hits usually. Especially when the ex was a total asshole", Phoebe stated giving you a hug before returning to her song writing place.

Phoebe turned the paper and made some notes, you couldn't wait to hear what the song was going to be.

"Thank you everyone, I really appreciate you and your help", you thanked them from the bottom of your heart.

"That's what friends are for", Monica stated and everyone nodded agreeing to what she said.

"We are there to help and for each other"

"I can take you on a tour in the museum someday, at least someone appreciates the rocks here", Ross suggested and bitterly muttered the rest of his sentence making Rachel give him another glare which Ross returned.

"Enough with the bickering love birds, I am getting PTSD", Chandler said jumping from the sofa and getting the couples jackets, before throwing them to the owners and ushering the couple towards the door.

"Go, go, out, off you go", Chandler ushered not letting Rachel or Ross protest.

"We got this, have fun with the rocks", Chandler said before slamming the door closed. He looked pleased with himself.

You clapped and he bowed, "That was rather impressive", you confessed.

"Rachel probably hasn't ever left so quickly to anywhere, could be the first time they are on time somewhere", Monica pondered for a moment before heading back to the kitchen.

"You relax and I will prepare the cookie dough. This situation needs cookie dough and ice cream", Monica ordered pointing at you to stay put.

"I might have eaten the ice cream", Joey said quietly with a sheepish look on his face when he avoided looking at Monica's face.

"I will go get more, because I trust myself more than Joey to go get the ice cream", Chandler stated pulling his jacket on.

He quickly came to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I will go get all your favourite ice cream, hold on, although I know it will be difficult without my charming presence and looks"

Phoebe let out a snort earning a glare from Chandler.

"Really needed to twist the knife", he muttered before exiting the apartment.

You quietly sat on the sofa. Phoebe was writing and Monica preparing everything comforting food the world new in the kitchen.

Suddenly the sofa dipped, Joey had sat next to you.

Joey had a small amount of jam on his face, it wasn't much compared to the last time, but still.

You took a tissue you hadn't yet used and cleaned his face. After that he opened his arms to welcome you into a warm embrace. You cuddled next to Joey without a moment of hesitation, pressing your head against his chest you could feel his warmth and heart beat making you relax.

"Finally I got you all to myself", Joey mumbled quietly pressing a small kiss onto your hair.

"I am sorry, you deserve so much more"

Joey's heart was aching for his friend, he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. He would maybe even share his pizza with you...

Maybe a slice.

Yes, a slice was fine.

ー

[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Twenty-Three

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Another update this week?? I'm as shocked as anyone else, but hopefully this one will make up a little for the last! It's longer and a little less, um, idk, I can't say emotional?? because that would be a lie:/ Still, there are some developments! Also, it'll make sense a lot later but the 2nd image and the use of a Ride song are used in this one!

Hope you enjoy! Also thank you for all the love on this current series, it means a whole lot and keeps me writing xx

Warnings: similar to that of the last post! so pls look back there if you'd like to know!:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

“I said no.”

Stressed was a feeling beyond words at this point. The past couple of days all I’d had was press hounding at me, calling and texting, emailing at all hours of the fucking day. They wouldn’t let up, even after I’d stayed silent. Adi reckoned it was mostly down to Teddy’s involvement in the whole thing. I didn’t want to think much more about it, although I knew she wasn’t wrong.

“Give me a reason at least?"

I shot a scathing glare over my shoulder before turning back to the filing system I’d taken to reorganising. It was my first morning back at the studio since... yeah, well Finn had Teddy- another factor to my current load of stress- whilst Adi was off doing something or other. I hadn’t asked, fearful of putting more of a strain on her current friendship- relationship??- with Ross, so instead I’d just chosen to tidy and rearrange the entire setup we had going on here. Because that was perfectly normal. And not a fucking way to evade talking or thinking about the mess that was my life. Okay?

“I don’t need a fucking reason, I just don’t want to.” I retorted, hissing slightly when I suddenly cut my thumb on the edge of a document. I withdrew my hand quickly and raised it towards my mouth, letting my eyes slip close for a moment when I heard a footfall step closer.

“Let me see.” Jamie sighed, probably thinking I’d done something worse to my hand than just a papercut. To be fair, the cabinet was old. One of them filing types from the ninety’s that we’d gotten for a score down at some boot sale, so I wouldn't be surprised if one of us did eventually end up losing an arm.

I shook my head and pushed the cabinet drawer closed, “It’s fine, just a papercut.”

Jamie huffed an amused chuckle before settling down on the edge of the desk nearby. It was Adi’s, you could tell from the sheer amount of shit she had accumulating it.

“One thing after another with you.”

My head tilted towards him with a deadened expression, “Ha ha.”

The older man raised his hands up in a mocking surrender, showing he hadn’t meant any real harm. “Too soon?”

I kicked at the toe of the leather boots he wore in retort as I moved towards the kitchenette, aware that he was just trying to lighten my horrendous mood but not really in the right mind for it. 

“You want a brew?” I asked, not bothering to give him an honest reply to that question of his. Too soon? Yes, that was all too fucking true.

“Have a coffee if there’s one going.”

I dipped my head in a slight nod, filling the kettle and setting it to boil before snagging the coffee often reserved for guests on the show from a shelf nearby.

Jamie moved to better face me on Adi’s desk as I did so, wearing that same expression he’d turned up in, all concerned and weary. It bothered me a bit, seeing as though it was all I had garnered since the press had had their field day with my life, but I could also understand why. They all just seemed to feel for the idiot stupid enough to fall into another of Matty Healy’s traps.

“Stop.”

“Stop what?” He wondered around a light chortle at my demand, hands falling to rest between his thighs.

I gestured towards his face whilst I poured a splash of milk into my mug, “Looking at me like that, like I’m gonna break or something.”

With a sigh, he pressed his lips together. “You know it’s not like that.” I rolled my eyes in return but he just bounded on, “You know it’s not, I just care is all.”

I forced out a breathless chuckle, “That why you’re here trying to get me to hear him out then?”

To be fair to him, Jamie had come right out with it when he’d first popped by, having messaged me asking after my whereabouts earlier this morning. I’d told him, having spoken to him quite a bit over the last couple days, and then found him on the doorstep. 

Jamie had been good with everything. He’d let me vent, rally against one of his friends and clients, question his own motives- and hadn’t even complained one bit. But now he was here asking me to give Matty a chance, a lot like he’d done that first time around in that small cafe all those months ago.

“I know you’re angry, you have every right to be.”

“Of course I’m fucking angry!” I immediately shot back at him, the rattle of the teaspoon ringing out as I dropped it into a mug, “I wouldn’t care if it had just been me he’d gone and fucked over! But he brought Teddy into this shit, Jamie. My son! So tell me, how am I supposed to hear him out after he’s done something like that and then lied about it? For weeks, mind you.”

Jamie looked back at me, wearing that ‘this meant business’ mug of his. I slumped at the sight, pressing my knee against one of the lower cabinets to continue stirring the drinks. I didn’t care, I didn’t care, I didn’t care.

“There’s a lot you don’t know, Mouse.”

My eyes slipped closed at his words and I took a second to just breathe. Because I wasn’t angry, not really. I was hurt and humiliated, and just so fucking sad. Fed up with it all, if I was being honest. Enough so that I knew that Jamie was being truthful here- and not just because it was a fact that I hadn’t spoken to Matty since things had fallen apart, but also because I hadn’t had the heart to ask Teddy about things yet. Or if ever.

The kid was four. Four, and asking after a man every night before he fell asleep and then as soon as he opened his eyes the next morning.

He knew something was up, he was smart like that. But what was I meant to do- to say? When I was just as confused as he was.

I’d ended up leaving him with Finn today, having had no other choice in the situation because the nursery was closed for an inset day, or some shite like that, and it seemed I had no other friends than the few around me. 

Could quite literally count the lot of them on one hand. 

But still, Finn and I’s relationship had still been rather rocky after that whole incident with him and Matty, and hadn’t improved since. In fact, he’d been a little unbearable about everything, always one to toot his own horn whenever he was right about something. But it was always slyly and I couldn’t help but feel as though it was a constant dig, like even when he wasn’t commenting on it he was still thinking it whenever he looked at me.

Which felt so horrible to think, let alone say out loud. He was my best friend. So I’d kept my mouth shut and just dealt with it, like I did everything else in life.

“He’s messed up about it.” Jamie then spoke, his voice having startled me a tad, breaking me out of my musings. He was watching me again, only when he did it, it didn’t feel as condescending as everyone else's. Like he understood my position. And I guessed that he probably sort of did.

“I bet.” I scoffed quietly, an airy titter escaping through my nose, and then I turned to toss my teabag away.

“It’s true.” Jamie shrugged, then nodded in thanks when I pushed a coffee his way. “He’s been ‘round Ross’s ever since shit hit the fan, hasn’t left the flat. Driving the lot of us mad, but he’s torn up, Mouse.”

Tongue in cheek, I wrapped my hands around my cup and propped my hip up against the counter, staring into the still swirling liquid. “Serves him right, I guess.” I replied with a soft shrug of my own, though we both knew I didn’t quite mean it.

Jamie looked over towards one of the windows to the right, most of them were either way too long or too tiny for the space, an odd build, but this particular one gave way to the skyline lying over the remainder of the city. I often wondered what the lower levels might look out at, thinking it was probably the majority of the surrounding buildings, and couldn’t help but feel a little thankful that we’d managed to snag this unit.

When he glanced back over at me, I took a sip and let him speak.

“A lot went on, that much I know, and it’s your choice how you deal with it. But, I saw the two of you. I saw him change. Which is stupid to say, I know, but it doesn’t stop it from being true. He was different with you, he actually tried in other aspects of his life and not just with the band and the music. He looked genuinely happy.” He smiled softly at the eye roll I gave, but it didn’t appear to deter him. “Don’t get me wrong, I know you didn’t fucking cure him. Don’t work like that, does it? But you helped. You and Teddy both.”

I looked away then, back towards the window, unable to really help it, and instead allowed my eyes to trail over the clouds which powdered the dusty blue sky. 

“It was different. Things were different, and I know that there was love there. There couldn’t not have been. The way he looked at you…” Jamie shook his head ever so slightly as he breathed out, unaware of just how deeply his words had cut. But then he peered over at me and I found myself already looking back, air caught somewhere in the swell of my lungs. 

“Don’t.” I choked out, the grip on my mug having tightened tenfold. “Just,” I shook my head.

Jamie put his coffee down on the desk and moved to stand, hands raised to convey he wasn't a threat. “I’m not saying this to hurt you more, love. Just telling you how I saw it.”

I licked at my lower lip, casting my eyes downwards. Our silence stretched and all could be heard was the odd car horn and chirp from beyond the walls of the studio, until-

“Anyone here?”

I blinked back the tears which had started to well in my eyes and sniffed, head shooting up just in time to spot a familiar giant ducking their head under the beam of the doorway, limbs following right after.

George entered but then stopped short when he spotted his manager stood by me, and I laughed to myself at the way the pair of them seemed to eye one another, before stepping in, “Didn’t hear you ring the buzzer.”

Kind eyes darted over to find my soft smile then, welcoming him in, and so George finally moved in closer, laying the jacket he wore to rest over one of the armchairs.

“Yeah, someone was just leaving and let me in.” He answered my unasked question, shrugging as he added, “Dunno whether they recognised me or if they just let anyone up.”

“Probably the second,” Jamie piped up, seemingly having broken himself from his previous bout of surprise, “This lot ‘round here don’t give much of a shit about crap like that.”

I rolled my eyes, but was glad to have a reason to smile slightly. “Or they spotted the BFG making his way over and wanted to avoid pissing him off.”

Jamie cackled whilst George just shot me a narrow-eyed look, “Hilarious. That pot just boiled?” He asked me as he wandered over. I nodded in turn and moved to grab him a cup, only faltering when he lowered my hand with his own and shook his head. “I got it.”

I dipped my head slightly, blinking before taking a step back to let him work. He made a quick go of it, rummaging around the cupboards briefly to find what he needed and only asking for the spoon I still held for some odd reason when he was near done. 

Jamie appeared to have been watching him too, a calculating glaze to his eyes, and he chose that next moment to speak up, “How you been anyway, George? Not seen much of you lately.”

Something unspoken passed between them when George glanced over at him, but I couldn’t tell what.

“Good, busy.” Was what the taller decided on, throwing Jamie a quick smile when he crossed to toss his own teabag in the bin before settling on the counter to the left of me. “You?”

It almost sounded sarcastic, not how he said it but simply because he’d asked it at all, knowing everything that had recently occurred. It must have been a right nightmare for Jamie these last few days, what with him being the band’s main man.

Jamie just laughed though, goodnaturedly, though it was apparent that he was still trying to suss out what was going on, what with George’s sudden appearance. Seeing as I’d never once mentioned him to Jamie.

See, things with George had all started after that studio session Teddy had attended, followed by my wishing him a happy birthday just before Matty had gone and done what he did best. Wrecked it all.

Teddy had become all too smitten with the drummer since he’d first been introduced to the band and their many songs and music videos. He enjoyed the guitar he’d been gifted an awful lot, often playing with it and practising, but each time any sort of song played on the tele or the radio, or even in the car, it wasn’t hard to note the way Teddy instantly mimicked George’s swift movements, pretending to drum along to whatever beat heard. 

George had messaged me on Instagram later that same day, seeing as how apparently Teddy’s appearance at the studio had stuck with him, and asked after him a little. It seemed strange worded like that, but George reckoned that Teds had a real streak of a musicality about him, even as young as he was, and wanted to see if Teddy would be up for learning some more. 

Which had been a Godsend, honestly, what with how the next couple of days had gone down. I’d given him my number via dm just before the storm had started and then the afternoon that had followed the plethora of articles he’d called.

He’d asked how I was at first, almost consoling me in that easy way of his, so full of little words, which had been all too refreshing in truth.

I’d had texts and calls off of practically everyone I knew, even Ronan, the utter prick. And none had managed to soothe me quite like George’s had, seeing as the man had been there too. Not quite in my position, sure, but near enough. He’d even let a little of it slip when he’d popped on over that same day, bringing a bag of takeaway and a roll up drum mat as a gift for Teddy, who had been cooped up with me on the sofa for most of the afternoon. 

The two of them had bonded over it rather quickly, Teddy having been caught off guard by George’s sincerity almost as much as I had been. But then I'd found myself getting to know the drummer too and very much appreciating the unnecessary gesture he’d made for me, even with the pair of us not knowing one another as well as we could have.

I had no idea what was going on between him and Matty, I hadn’t had the balls to ask, but he’d mentioned he hadn’t heard much of anything from him since the night of his party, as well as the fact that his girlfriend, Charli, had been just as annoyed with everything that had gone down.

I knew he’d be stopping by at some point today, we’d made plans to get lunch once he’d heard I was back at the studio on my own, but not recording. I reckoned he was concerned and this was his way of showing it, but it was hard to tell with him most of the time seeing as he’d made it out as though I was doing him a favour here. An effort I came to find I much appreciated. 

“Work, you know how it is.” Jamie replied after a long pause. He was still standing in the same position he’d been in since George arrived, but seemed to move then, picking up what was left of his coffee and pouring what remained down the sink. “But I’d best be going, got a couple calls to make. You gonna be at the studio tomorrow?”

George hummed around his next sip, pulling away with only a dip of his chin. “Should be.”

Jamie smiled, nodding, “Good, I’ll let the rest of them know then.”

I caught George’s slight wince at that, though he didn’t protest his manager's comment. It made me wonder.

Jamie turned to me then, shucking on his jacket. I perked up, not having realised that he really was rushing to leave now. “Remember what I said, alright?”

I blinked, but then nodded. How could I forget? I wanted to ask, but instead said, “You don’t have to head out so quick.”

He sent me a reassuring grin as he flipped over the collar of his coat. “You won’t miss me much,” He then teased before roping me into a hug, “Weren’t lying when I said I had a couple calls though, so it’s best I get out of your hair whilst I still can.” 

I smiled softly at the sound of his lighthearted chuckle and nodded before following him over to the door, “Stay safe.”

Jamie rolled his eyes, all too used to my typical parting now, though amused by it all the same. “Can’t promise anything.” He retorted with a smirk, shuffling over the threshold whilst his eyes flickered back to where George still stood once more. “So, about before?”

I inhaled shakily, though Jamie didn’t seem to notice, fingering the pockets of his jacket in search of his mobile. “I’ll think about it.” I told him.

He flashed me a grin at that, pleased, then let his heel trail over to meet the top step of the metal grating. “Talk to you later then.”

I nodded and watched for a second as he descended the staircase, head bobbing down the first set before he turned and disappeared from view. Sliding back inside, I shut the door quietly behind me, taking a second to steel my nerves before facing the room again.

During that time, George had seemingly gone and made himself comfy on the settee, his mug settled on a coffee table coaster. I moved to join him after putting both mine and Jamie’s cups under the tap to rinse before just leaving them to soak.

George was fiddling with something when I sat down beside him but shuffled over a tad to allow me to get more comfortable, “So what was that about?” I questioned.

“With Jamie?” He asked and I nodded, even though I reckoned he already knew what I was on about. 

He shrugged slightly and I noted the way his finger trailed over a slip of folded paper, it was creased as though it had been played or fiddled with a dozen times too many. My brow seemed to furrow at the sight of it. 

“He tried phoning a few times but I’ve not been too keen on answering, learnt that I’ll just get dragged into the drama if I do.” George finally answered, and for some reason I felt a wad of guilt pool in my stomach upon hearing it, even though I hadn’t been the one to cause this mess.

Or maybe I was just kidding myself.

“Sorry.”

George huffed as he turned to peer over at me, elbows resting on the tops of his knees. “Nothing to be sorry for.” He told me and then gifted me a sweet smile, “None of this is on you. Just thought we were in the clear, you know?” He looked away at that and his smile dimmed into something smaller, almost sadder. “Figured I wouldn’t have to go dodging my mates calls anymore, or be roped into cleaning up everyone else’s messes.”

He reached a hand out to settle on my knee then, probably having noticed the way I was chewing on the insides of my cheek, or maybe the fact that my lip was now trembling. I’d never felt so shitty. So at fault for something I hadn’t really seen coming, nor could I prevent.

“Not your fault, remember?” He reiterated to me, squeezing my joint softly before pulling away. I sniffed before looking up at him with a tiny smile. 

“Promise I don’t usually cry this much. Just been a shitty week is all.” I told him, laughing pitifully as I toyed with the hem of the jumper I’d put on earlier that morning when I’d purposefully avoided the hoodie that had been left on my desk chair, as well as the cupboard full of clothes that didn’t belong to me.

I felt the settee dip slightly before I found him sitting right beside me, lifting an arm to wrap me up in a hug. His cheek came to rest on the side of my head and I felt my heart break that little bit more, because it reminded me that in a second, or two, I wouldn’t have that sense of protection he now offered, shielding me from the rest of the world.

“You’ve been put through the wringer.” George murmured and I had to laugh just a little bit, he laughed too, the sound of it reverberating through his chest to where my head rested. “Fucking cry if you want to, alright? No judgement here."

I spluttered a little on my next chuckle, smiling as I wiped at my eyes. George’s arm just tightened its hold by a fraction, as though he knew it would make things that little bit easier. We both sat there like that for a while, and I appreciated the fact that he was okay with a bit of quiet. That he didn’t run scared from it or try to start up an awkward conversation simply to fill it.

Silence was something I’d come to realise that George often favoured. Because sometimes that was all you really needed.

I don’t know how long we continued like that before he shuffled and pulled that same piece of paper from earlier back into view, holding the corner of it between his forefinger and thumb. I pulled away slightly, looking down at it and then back up at him with a small frown.

“What?”

George merely blinked, staring down at the paper with an odd look before he finally placed it in the hand I had resting on my thigh. My frown only deepened.

“What is it?” I asked him, finger trailing over an edge just as he had done when I’d first spotted it. When I went to unfold it from the opposing corner, he stopped me. 

Confused, I turned to raise a brow at him, only to find him already looking back at me. He bit into his lower lip and then flattened his mouth into a stern line, “I found that when I was last in the studio.”

My chest tightened for some reason, but I was still so baffled. “Okay?”

We were sitting up better now, George’s arm having slipped from my shoulders to come to rest in his lap, fingers trailing over his left hand’s rigid set of knuckles.

“I figured you should see it.” He added in his usual drawl, though his eyes flickered up from the paper to catch mine then and I realised it must've been important. He seemed wary enough to warrant it.

I went to unfold it once again, but then his hand really reached out to stop my own, “I don’t know if I should be here when you do.”

That alone made me even more curious, although there was an edge of caution that now warred at me. “Why?”

George gifted me a gentle smile, the hand that still laid over top of my own squeezing kindly. “I’ll go grab us some food, alright? If you want to open it then do, if not. I won’t mention it again.”

He moved to stand then but my hand shot out to grab at the sleeve of his arm, “George.” But I didn’t know what else to say, I knew I was fearful though.

His fingers moved to meet mine, resting there for a short moment, “It’s your choice. Just, I couldn’t keep it from you.”

I swallowed thickly as he pushed to his feet, the scuff off his heavy boots bouncing off the hardwood floors. Slowly he moved to grab his jacket, giving me time to say no, to deny his offer. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t do much of anything really.

The door shut behind him with a soft click a minute later and the quiet of the studio suddenly consumed me. When I glanced back down at the paper I held once more I saw the slight tremble of my hands. I forced myself to exhale, but even that was shaky.

I was careful as I unfolded it, listening to the rustle it made before scrawled lines that had bled through to the other side caught my attention. Pausing, I took a moment to just look at them and then thoughtlessly hurried to reveal the rest of it, taking in its full form. My throat tightened at the sight of familiar scribbles.

You had me from the start  Pulling all the stops out  On the down low, secretly  But I think you knew your psychology  Was working on me  Infatuated  And doing this all wrong  You've got  My number and my name  And you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going  Can I see you every day?  Do you love me  Like I love you?  Ah, you've got me going  Yeah, you've got me going

(Song: Ride - Future Love)

It was as if something in me had shifted and then turned, sparking itself its very own flame on a bone too sharp and growing and growing until its singed edges burnt and blackened every part of me. 

I must've sat there staring down at it for ages. Crying silently and alone in an empty room, something I’d been avoiding doing since this had all started. Though I supposed it had been inevitable.

His words. His thoughts. Bared to me on a single page. Him none the wiser to any of it. Probably having not even realised it was gone, or missing. And George had read it. He’d seen it and still, after everything, had given them to me.

A tear dropped from my chin then, blotting the page and I could only watch on as the dark ink appeared to cling to it, seeping further and further into the paper. Smudging the ‘Do you love me’ enough so that my breath stuttered and I was suddenly moving all too quickly for my mind to catch up with my thoughtless actions.

Not even a second later my phone was in my hand. 

Messages now To: Jamie O (glasses!) When can he meet me? 

–

Matty had always had a thing for Sundays. 

There was just something about them. Not all that Godly shite that people preached about it being holy and the first day of the week, ‘cause to him Monday would always hold that title- and Monday’s fucking sucked dick. 

No, it was because there was just something peaceful that settled on Sundays, it took him back to simpler times, of days when he’d just been a kid and roast dinners were spent ‘round his nana’s house. Or when Newcastle would play on afternoons and his dad would finally be home to watch with him. 

There was just something about them, you know. He didn’t much believe in luck, typically only the bad sort. But if someone held a gun to his head and told him he had to claim a day which would forever work in his favour, it would just have to be Sunday.

Still, he was unsure on where he currently stood with that sentiment as of late. Seeing as how he was currently in the backseat of a cab, jittery hands clinging onto shaking knees whilst rows of houses, broken up by hues of green and blue, rolled on past him.

It hadn’t been a last minute thing, but it felt much like it. The anticipation was getting to him, he knew that much, sweat licking at the back of his neck whilst his shoulders worked their way up to the lobes of his ears.

Jamie had somehow managed it.

Called him up late last night just before Ross had headed off to bed to tell him that she would finally see him. Jamie’d asked if he’d be alright going alone or if they’d prefer a buffer there, but Matty had immediately declined. So he was doing it alone. Though he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a misstep on his part, if it would have made things easier on her having someone there, or maybe just given him some semblance of relief as the car slowly drove its way over to her house. The very place he hadn’t stepped foot in since the night of George’s birthday party.

But he hadn’t earnt that reassurance. Felt wrong to bring somebody else along either way. So he was stuck, toying with his phone, hoping or praying that a text wouldn’t come through saying that she’d gone and changed her mind.

It had been just under a week since he’d last seen her. But it felt as though time had dragged out slowly, mocking him or maybe even torturing him for all of his many wrongdoings. 

He fretted over what she might say when she caught sight of him, he himself having only spotted the state he’d worked himself into when he’d been getting ready that morning.

There were heavy bags set beneath his eyes from where he hadn’t really slept and his cheeks were hollowed in that way that they used to revert to when he’d have a particularly hard weekend way back when. If the papers caught wind of him he already knew what the first articles would say, what they would so obviously claim. But he knew the truth, just hoped that she would know it too.

He was startled from his mind at the jerk of the car pulling up onto the nearest curb. His eyes widened in sudden alarm when he realised just what that meant and then caught the look of dismay that crossed the driver’s face when the bloke looked back to announce that they’d arrived. If the man didn’t already think he was on something, then now he definitely did.

Matty swallowed stupidly and then tried for a smile, struggling to undo his seatbelt with the kickstart of shaking that overtook his hands. The driver took pity on him though, turning away to fiddle with something up front that probably didn’t need fiddling with, and finally Matty’s thumb managed to catch the button.

Releasing himself from the confines of the car, he paused just before the door could slam close behind him, handing the man a couple notes in tip, if only to apologise for his edgy behaviour or buy himself a little more time if the driver had somehow managed to suss him out even with his hat, hood and scarf. “Cheers.” He said.

The man blinked at the onslaught of cash and then nodded repeatedly, “Yes, thank you.”

Matty exhaled shakily and then dipped his chin in another goodbye, stepping back onto the curb and watching the cab pull away before he found himself alone once more.

This was it, he supposed.

The street hadn’t changed much in a matter of days but his mind made it seem as though it had. As though suddenly he didn’t belong. The odd man out.

He shoved his hands into the confines of his pockets, pivoting on his heel to face what he’d come here to do. But nothing had prepared him for the way his stomach suddenly bottomed out at the sight of her front door.

The sound of a car horn a way away spooked him, causing him to jump, but did eventually force him forward off the curb and onto the cracked pavement. He stared down at all the dips and curves they had to offer him the entire way up the path until finally, he reached her front steps.

If anyone asked, Matty would tell them it was as though he’d been working on autopilot when he pried the silver knocker up from the wood and let it rap twice. Though that would be an utter lie. His head screamed at him the whole while and his fingers blurred before him when he’d raised them up to grasp at the chilled metal. 

He’d never felt so sick, just standing there, the seconds slowly trickling into minutes, or perhaps even hours. It honestly felt as the day was slowly growing colder the longer that he stood there, staring at a coat of familiar paint, before finally hinges creaked and the door opened, revealing a sight that would’ve surely cured sore eyes, if only it hadn’t gone and broken his heart first.

It wasn’t immediate, the effect the past couple days had had on her. It was more in the way she held herself, the sadness which clung to her every fibre, the way she wouldn’t quite look him in the eye.

She stared, caught in a standstill, and for a long moment did nothing before silently and slowly she withdrew enough to allow him through.

Matty didn’t dare utter a word, let alone breathe. Careful to avoid brushing against her or stepping on her toes as he slowly crossed over the threshold to get in, though the hands he’d hidden in his coat pockets curled into fists to keep himself steady.

The first thing he noted upon first entering was the significant state of the flat, it wasn’t messy or untidy by any means, but looked nothing at all like a house typically inhabited by a child should, or at least a monster as chaotic as he knew Teddy to be. It was almost as though Mouse had been expecting a letting agent to pass through with a couple dozen couples, what with how clean it was. He almost reckoned that if he were to crouch down right there he’d probably be able to make out the seam of his jeans in the reflection of the floors.

“You can just hang your-”

“I know.” Matty whispered, not intentionally meaning to cut her off but unable to help himself anyway. 

It hurt, feeling as though he was just a guest in a place he had practically considered home not too long ago. He coughed lightly and shrugged off his coat to do so anyway, hanging it up where he usually did, something which made him pause for a split second, wondering whether this could possibly be the last time he’d have the privilege of doing so.

“Right.” Mouse murmured somewhere behind him, snapping Matty out of his thoughts. She stepped on by him just after, eyes trained on the end of the hallway until they reached the living room, “Erm, I’m just starting on a brew. You can wait here if you want.”

He wanted to follow after her, to fall down onto his knees and fucking sob there at her feet, but he was scared he’d dirty her floors or more than likely end up looking like a total knob. He would. Fucking felt like one just from thinking it. So he did as instructed, moving towards the sofa, taking note of everything and anything the room had to offer him. 

Matty’s eyes flickered over to the kitchen doorway when he realised she’d stopped there, fiddling with her nails before she caught him looking and dropped her hands. “Just realised I didn’t ask if you wanted anything.”

God, it was so fucking strained.

He took a short breath in and attempted to smile, “Tea sounds good.” Was all that he said, and watched on as her brow wrinkled, head tilting with it.

“Uh, I still have that coffee you like. The one you brought over, if you’d prefer.” She told him and he recognised her confusion for what it was, or maybe it was just her weariness over letting him know that his stuff was still where he’d left it. Or, maybe, just fucking maybe he was reading way too much into everything.

“Tea’s good.” Matty murmured, feeling a little less tense now that he knew that she was sort of sitting in the same boat. “But thanks.”

Her chest rose and fell with her next breath and he watched her nod with difficulty at him, still not meeting his eye. “Right, just be a sec then.”

She disappeared past the door with that, whilst he simply stood and listened to the run of the tap and then the flick of the kettle, feeling stupid for having missed something he hadn’t even realised he’d taken note of before. 

But that was just typical, wasn’t it? To miss something so mundane now that it was no longer expected.

Once he heard the clink of mugs Matty allowed his gaze to roam, trailing over the bundle of neatly folded throws settled on the wicker basket by the sofa, ones he knew that if Teddy was here would still be scattered all over the floor before the tv. 

There were a couple of coasters laid out on the coffee table, though the fruit bowl had since been removed, something he knew Mouse did whenever there were only a few pieces left or none at all. There would probably be grapes or something of the sort in the fridge though.

She had a couple of receipts left out on the shelf below the mirror she’d hung up on the wall when she’d first moved in, and the picture frames beside them were still the same. Only one was missing, and he knew which. 

He noticed that the candles over by the lamp were new though, expensive if he remembered rightly because he was sure that he’d spotted them round someone else’s place recently. He wondered briefly over who could’ve gifted them to her, knowing that she much preferred her usual scents, only ever splurging on the larger Yankee Candle jars they had to offer in the local Debenhams.

He found himself smiling at the thought.

It was then that she shuffled back into the room though, stalling his observations. She carried two mugs in her hand and a small plate loaded with biscuits on her forearm. Immediately Matty moved to help her, taking the plate from her even with knowing that she had it handled.

“I could’ve managed.” She murmured, though not unkindly, and then thanked him quietly once she’d gone and placed the mugs down. 

Matty followed her lead, settling the biscuits near the edge of the coffee table, between the two coasters, before fumbling for a second over where to sit. Squeaks seemed to take to one end of the settee so Matty perched on the other, though closer to the middle crease than the arm.

“You got hobnobs?” Matty finally asked, breaking the silence again, eyes flicking over to the plate he’d just held before shooting back over to find her.

She blushed faintly at his comment, then shrugged. “You like them, don’t you?”

Matty scoffed lightly, a soft smile limning his lips, “Yeah, but you hate them. Once claimed that they were like digestives only after being shat out.”

She wrinkled her nose at that, though Matty was quite sure he could spot the mirth that flickered across her face. “Want them or not?”

Rolling his eyes in fond exasperation and knowing not to push it, he picked one up and settled in a little more comfortably into the sofa cushions.

The silence would’ve been almost unbearable if she hadn’t had the foresight to have turned the tv on low before he’d arrived. So whilst a documentary played on one of the many BBC channels, Matty struggled with himself to find the best thing to say. Though he needn’t have bothered, she was always one step ahead.

“So, I think I should start by saying that I um, I know I held a lot of expectations.” 

Almost simultaneously, Matty frowned.

She just wrung her hands together once before thinking better of it and laying them flat in her lap. Matty merely wished to reach out and take them in his own. “And I get that it must’ve been a struggle for you, to basically go from like one end of a scale and then jump right off the other side. But, I-”

“What are you on about?” Matty interrupted, unable to help himself in truth, so beyond baffled by the sudden speech she’d started. She stopped and blinked over at him, finally looking him in the eye. At last.

“What do you mean?” She retorted with a pinch between her brows, “Listen, I planned this all out, alright? So can I just get out what I want to say?”

Matty stared, then forced out a breath of air. “Squeaks,” She shuttered at the name, closing off slightly, enough so that Matty took quick note and wished he hadn’t said a thing, but yet, he still carried on. Desperate to save any blundered attempt he’d make. “Look, this weren’t on you. None of it was, okay?”

Her eyes trailed back over towards him at that, though her expression was almost unreadable. Matty struggled with that bit the most, he’d always been able to read her for the most part.

“So, this crap about expectations and me struggling with whatever idea you’ve made up in your mind is stupid.” Her eyes narrowed then and he watched her work her jaw, obviously none too happy about his retort. He withheld a heavy sigh, “I’m not- Look, I’m not trying to be difficult I’m just saying that- What I’m trying to say is, that every relationship has goals or expectations, that’s normal. But nothing you ever did forced me do what I did. That shit? It was all on me. It was me being insecure and scared, yeah? So, don’t go trying to excuse it. Because I’ve had people do that for me for far too fucking long now and hearing it come from you...” 

He sort of felt himself slump at that, a little bitter and resentful over the fact that she’d since come to think of it that way. As though his mistakes were all just down to her and her inability to do right by him. He realised though, belatedly, that if anyone else had done exactly that, or even attempted to, in any other scenario he just might have taken up the offer and ran with it. But this was her, this was Squeaks. 

She was quiet for a time, then she picked up her mug, eyes trained on the movement of it before, “What then?” 

“What?” Matty frowned once more, shuffling forward in his seat in an attempt to catch her eye again.

“Why did you do it then? Why’d you lie, why didn’t you tell me about Teddy?”

That knot he’d been feeling for weeks now. The one at the very end of his tongue, all tied and tangled in the back of his throat, suddenly shrivelled up and slackened, leaving a bitter aftertaste and a plethora of guilt behind.

Matty’s gaze wandered over to the window, to where Teddy’s guitar sat in its stand just before a heavy set of grey curtains. He withheld the urge to pick at his nails as he searched for the right words to give her, wanting so honestly to tell her the truth, to give her a play by play of what had happened in detail, as well as every thought that had gone through his mind. 

“It wasn’t what it looked like for a start.”

Mouse scoffed a little at that, and Matty couldn’t be mad at it. If he was sat on the other end of this he’d been doing more than just that, he’d be up in arms, tossing shit about and raving to all who would listen.

Still, his eyes trailed down to where his hands now laid in his lap and he pressed his thumb to his palm. “We were on the highstreet, on the way back here.” He started, voice quiet as his stare tracked the faint lines of his hand, “The guy you saw in the pictures came out of nowhere really. Me and Teds had just been at that ice cream shop a way down, I didn’t even spot him until he was there, in my face.”

Matty wet his lower lip, mouth suddenly going dry. Mouse just waited.

“Teddy was quick to hide behind me, you know? The loudmouth didn’t even really notice him until the last minute. But you have to know, all I wanted was to get him out of there. To avoid staying too long and attracting the wrong sort of attention. Okay? So I’d said I had to get going as soon as he'd spoken, told him I didn’t have time to stay and chat.” 

He took a quick breath with that, eyes still centred on the deepest groove of his palm. “But then he, then he brought up Luke. Said something about the funeral he didn't go to and wanting to celebrate his life.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Squeaks’s hands still from their previous bout of fidgeting. “But I told him I was clean. He didn’t believe me at first, which,” Matty huffed out a self-deprecating laugh, “Well, I can’t blame him for that, what with my track record.”

He heard her inhale then and looked up, it seemed as though she was going to say something but thought better. So Matty bit down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from asking before he exhaled slowly, digging a nail into that groove.

“He got a bit aggy, started calling me a toff and whatnot, because I 'spose I was just a rich boy who bought him a couple grams of coke every now and then.” He clucked his tongue thinking about it, but eventually shrugged. “Then I don’t know, he must’ve looked down or something ‘cause that’s when he,” Matty paused and his gaze shot over to her, then away again, “That’s when he spotted Teddy.”

Mouse wrinkled her mouth, then tried to nod, obviously wanting him to continue. Though she kept her eyes trained on the rim of her mug.

“That’s when he said some shit and I reacted.”

“Said what?”

Matty startled a little at the sound of her question but was hasty in his attempt to answer. “Just, he reckoned that Teddy was mine and that I had to have knocked someone up. So now they were just using me for the money.”

Her eyes slipped closed and her fingers tightened their grip on her cup.

Swallowing thickly, Matty went to continue, “I shoved him and told him to do one- that’s what they caught in those photos. I didn't take anything he offered, I didn't even look back after. Just walked away, thinking of Teddy, trying to get him out of there. The bloke, he kept on shouting, saying some crap about this and that. But I carried on walking.”

Matty was proud of that fact, even with everything that had happened since. Not too long ago, a different version of him would have handled it all too severely. It was a step, a tiny one, sure, but it was progress.

“Then what?” Mouse voiced, prompting him along with just a look.

“Then we walked home.” Matty replied, feeling that familiar cloud of shame dawn over him. “We didn’t really speak, I- I was a bit of a mess, trying to figure out what to do next, what to tell Teddy, to say to make it right again. But Teds, he,” Matty hauled in his next breath, all too fucking close to bawling, that he could admit. “He called for me and I looked down at him. All I could say was sorry, Mouse.”

She nodded tightly, the knuckles she had wrapped around her tea cup had whitened.

“He,” Matty felt the corners of his mouth lift as he remembered the bittersweet memory of Teddy trying to soothe him, “He told me it was alright, that we were okay, but I just kept on saying sorry. He said that the bloke was just a bad man, and I assured him of that. Wanting him to know that we were okay, that the guy was long gone. But then he-”

Matty stopped altogether then, a picture of Teddy's little face coming to the forefront of his mind, and Squeaks immediately took note.

“Then what?”

Her eyes were so full of emotion, but which ones he wasn’t too sure. Still, the sight tightened every muscle in his chest as he forced himself to finish what he’d started. “He said we couldn’t tell you.”

Matty knew he couldn’t have imagined the sharp inhale that sounded from her then, as though she'd just received a blow to the chest. And he so desperately wanted to reach out, to wrap her up and just fucking hold her. But he couldn't. It wasn't his place.

He watched on as she licked at her top lip though, blinking back the wetness that shone in her eyes, “Why?” Her voice cracked on the question but she did not cry.

It was a simple answer. “He didn’t want to hurt you.”

Mouse stood then, placing the cup down with some force before she hastily made her way over to the front window. Matty stayed seated, unsure if he’d be welcome near her.

“It fucking broke me, Squeaks.” He admitted after a moment, his lips now tingled with the sheer amount of effort it took for him to not let his emotions get the better of him. “I didn’t know what to do.”

“You should have told me.” Was her reply, sharp and cutting, enough that it fucking wounded. Because Matty knew that she was right.

“I know.” He answered.

“You should have fucking told me, Matty!” She repeated, turning then to face him. He saw the tremble of her shoulders, the curve of her mouth and how it quaked. He stared, couldn't bring himself to look away.

“I know.”

He swallowed, throat almost aching as much as the hole that made up the majority of his chest. 

"Why didn't you tell me?"

“I don't know.” He murmured, mostly to himself.

[ughgoaway]

we went to winter wonderland // day 2

content warnings; swearing maybe? I think that's it??

a/n; day 2!!! I have only been to Winter Wonderland like once, so if this is inaccurate... oops! but I did have a good time despite it being a bit shit, which is how I felt writing this fic too lol. also I did use a quote in here I saw online, but I can not for the life of me find who wrote it, as soon as I do, I will edit this and credit them!!! <3

word count; 2k

(this fic takes place pre-relationship)

12 days masterlist

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

“Alexa! Play Daddy's song!!” Matty hears his daughter shouting at the Alexa from the kitchen. He smirks to himself once he understands what she means.

Matty was careful what songs he showed Annie, knowing she was at the age of endless questions, and he didn't exactly feel like explaining the intricacies of some of his songs. 

But last week, Matty had to run into a meeting and left Annie in the studio with Ross and George. As they sat there and planned the setlist, any time Annie heard the title of a song she didn't know, she would pipe up and say, “What does that one sound like?” and either George or Ross would play a small bit of the song. When Me and You Together song was brought up, they thought it was about as harmless as 75 songs can get, so they played the whole song for her.

They watched her eyes light up as the song played, and by the end, she was dancing around the room with them both and singing along, but once it stopped, she asked for it again. And again. And again. Now it was a week later, and Matty was sick of the sound of his own voice, which is not something he thought was possible.

As Matty strolls into the front room to see Annie looking grumpy at the Alexa for not understanding her request, he scoops her up and sits on the sofa with her on his lap. She shrieks as he picks her up and crosses her arms over her chest once she's sat down. 

“Annie, sweetheart, im so glad you like my song, but im not sure we need to listen to it again,” Matty says gently, trying not to upset his daughter. Annie huffs in his lap and immediately pouts, and it almost breaks him. But he manages to stay strong. 

“Why don't we do something else instead, hmm? You could show me some of your new toys? We can even play Barbies if you like?” Matty says, trying to bargain with Annie. He wasn't very good at the whole discipline side of parenting. But how could he be when Annie gives him those puppy dog eyes and a shaky bottom lip?

But before either of those comes out, her face lights up with an idea, and Matty knows that doesn't bode well. “Okay, we can stop listening to my most favourite song if we can go to Winter Wonderland like it says!!” Annie says, stressing most favourite in an attempt to guilt trip her dad, and it works.

They had gone to Winter Wonderland last year, and Annie had the time of her life. Some of the kiddy rides made Matty feel his age though, and after a 3rd go on the teacups, he had to sit stationary for a good 15 minutes. Despite that, that day was one of Matty's favourite days with Annie, seeing her face brighten at the rides and all the people, watching her sit on Santa's lap and ask him for a new dog, “my doggy mayhem needs a friend!!” but nothing compared to their trip on the Ferris wheel. 

Watching the skyline of London reflect in her eyes was a sight Matty would never forget, her giddiness as she tried to spot their house (she insisted she found it, and who is Matty to disagree?) and the different colours of light slide over her ecstatic face. The purple and pink lights shining in her wide eyes as she stared at the people below giggling was the highlight of his Christmas. 

Annie sat on his lap as they went down on the wheel, and before they even reached the bottom, she was fast asleep in his arms. Watching her eyes flutter on the train home made Matty's heart swell in a new way. He didn't think he could love something this much.

So when she asked, Matty couldn't help but nod his head and get attacked with hugs and squeals.

////////////////////

The sun had gone down about 20 minutes ago, and Annie was determined it was now time to go on the Ferris wheel, “I need to see all the pretty lights, Daddy!” she says, dragging Matty over to the queue.

Matty laughed and followed behind her. A giant stuffed bear obstructed his view slightly, but he blindly trusted Annie's directions. After a long day of rides and fairground games, Matty wouldn't mind a gentle spin around the Ferris wheel.

Little did he know you were thinking the exact same thing, only a few people ahead of him in the queue. 

You hadn't planned to go to Winter Wonderland that day, not even thinking about it before you were in central London. But on the tube, you saw a poster and suddenly felt drawn to it. The hustle and bustle of people and the decorations were sure to make you feel a bit less shit. 

You couldn't go to Christmas at home this year, not being able to travel due to severe weather warnings, so you went up to your mum's house a few weeks before for an early Christmas dinner. It sounded like a good idea at the time, but how wrong you were.

The whole family was invited, and you were inundated with questions about a significant other, “Oh do you have a boyfriend yet love?”

And then, having to cope with the sad eyes and the pity after you say no, “Oh don't worry, sweetheart. It'll happen for you eventually.” 

They all said the same thing, pity followed by an attempted set-up, “Actually… if you're still single, there's a lovely young man I work with that would be perfect for you!” 

And thus the spiel began, describing a man who you're sure is nice enough but definitely wasn't perfect for you. Even if he was, you couldn't date right now anyway. You were well and truly stuck on Matty.

You can't think of anyone else. Your head is full of him. Your heart is full of him. You think of him when you wake up, what he's doing right now. Whether he's making breakfast for Annie, or maybe if he's at the studio already. Throughout the day, small things remind you of him. The guitar that sits in the corner of your room, an abandoned attempt at a hobby, now sat as nothing but a reminder of the man you were violently in love with. You turned on the radio each day to distract yourself, but now something as basic as music has you yearning for him. One day, as you were getting ready to go out, one of his songs came on, and you froze on the spot. You didn't end up going out that day. You stayed home and ached over a man who you could never have. 

The worst time was at night. You lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the ticking of the clock teasing you. Reminding you that each minute you don't sleep translates to an hour of grumpiness tomorrow morning. But you couldn't help it. Your mind was swimming in him. You thought of lying in bed together, chatting, and giggling. And falling asleep in his arms. You'd be able to listen to his heartbeat rather than the tick tok of that fucking clock.

So you lie, you say to your aunts, “Oh I don't need romance! Im perfectly happy.” But you say you don't need love like a woman on a diet says she doesn't want dessert, you long for it but you don't think you deserve it. 

To try and distract yourself, you dragged yourself out of bed and into central London. The poster convinced you, and soon enough, you were standing in front of Hyde Park with a ticket booked. 

For a solo adult, you had a pretty fun day, going around to all the stalls and buying unnecessary treats for you and your loved ones. You ate some overpriced food and went on a few rides. But you were waiting until the sun had set for your favourite activity, the Ferris wheel. 

You get loaded onto a carriage, and you hear the ride operator ushering more people on saying, “There's only one in here so you two can join her, okay?” You keep focused on the view outside, not too worried about who you're going to be spending the trip around with.

That was until the door shut, and you heard a breathy voice say, “Hi.” 

Why do you recognise that voice? Oh- OH. you turn, and you're met with the same pair of eyes that run through your mind all night, the same eyes that seem to follow you wherever you go.

A few hard blinks later, you assure yourself you're not dreaming, that is Matty Healy standing in front of you with a bear almost the same size as his daughter.

Speaking of his daughter, you catch her in your arms moments later, Annie had thrown herself in to hug you; clearly over the moon with your presence.

“Well hi guys!” You say, somehow managing to keep your voice even, “So nice to see you both” Your eyes flick from Annie's up to Matty, who simply nods, dumbfounded. 

You make a slightly awkward conversation with the two of them, both you and Matty reeling from the surprise encounter. But Annie wasn't phased, easily recounting her whole day to you and laughing when she detailed how ill Matty got on the teacups. 

“In my defence,” Matty says, already smiling at your poorly suppressed giggles, “they spin really fast, okay! Im getting too old for teacups,” he says with a flick of his hand.

Just as you say, “No!” Annie says, “Yes! Too olddddd” dragging out the last letter. All of you burst out laughing, Matty gives Annie a pinch and calls her cheeky.

Once you reached the top, you, Matty, and Annie all quieted down and stared out at the view, all immersed in the London skyline sparkling back at you. Annie stood below you with her face pressed into the window as you and Matty had a quiet conversation. 

“I always wait until it's dark to come up here, I love the lights too much to come up during the day” you whisper to Matty.

You don't turn your head to face him until the silence is too much, and you almost jump when you see him already looking at you. 

But all Matty wanted to do was look at you. The way the lights glittered in your eyes, your smile as they flicked over the view. The way you squinted and leaned in closer, trying to figure out what landmark you were looking at. He especially loved the way your hand was subconsciously stroking Annie's back the whole time. 

He felt like a real fucking family. And god, it hurt. 

Nevertheless, he couldn't stop staring at you, willing to endure any pain if it meant he could continue living in this delusion he had created. 

Any beautiful view was lost on the two of you now, just staring at each other with dopey smiles on your faces. Tracing each feature with your eyes, desperate to memorise this. To live it over and over again. 

Annie tugged at her dad's leg, and that finally pulled his attention back. You were nearly at the bottom of the wheel, and Annie's eyes were heavy with sleep. She rubbed at her face with closed fists and then stuck her arms up. Matty immediately scooped her up and held her close, letting her eyes shut and resting her head on his shoulder. She was falling asleep in a matter of seconds.

Neither of you spoke on the small remainder of the journey, not wanting to wake her up. But as he walked off trying to balance both Annie and the bear, Matty gave you a small smile and a wave. You did the same and walked in the opposite direction.

That night, it wasn't just you staring at your ceiling. Matty was up until 3 am watching the moonlight dance and fantasising about the life he had for 10 minutes. A life with you.

[uramilf]

could you write something about the reader having a birthday party and it ends up being shit because stuff goes wrong so she’s upset and matty comforts her?

A/N: Okay this is perfect for me because I LOVE birthdays and always put so much effort into everyone else's, but mine gets overlooked or forgotten most years because it's near Christmas it's so annoying :( I've decided to turn this one into a proper imagine instead of a blurb yay

Birthday Party - Matty Healy x reader

The second you woke up on your birthday, you could sense it wasn't going to be as special as you anticipated. First of all, Matty wasn't in bed beside you. Second of all, you remembered that you were just another year older, and wished you could go back to your teenage years when people cared about birthdays. You rolled back over and shut your eyes again, not even bothering to try and find your boyfriend. This only lasted a few moments, as your phone rang. "Mum", the screen read when you picked it up. Your heart lightened a little bit. Looked like somebody cared after all. "Hi Mum!" you smiled. "Hi, love. Sorry to bother you, but I think I left my coat hanging over your stairs when I was visiting the other day. You wouldn't have time to bring it over to me, would you?" "Yeah, Mum, it's here. No, sorry, I don't have a lot of time today. The boys have arranged a little part later." "Ooh, what's the occasion?" she asked. You shook your head, heart dropping. "It's my birthday, Mum." "Oh, sorry love! So it is. Sorry, I should have gotten you something, we've just been so busy..." You stopped listening after that. "It's fine," you interrupted her. "Look, I have to go." "No worries, darling. Happy birthday!" You didn't reply, swiftly hanging up the phone.

------------------

Walking slowly down the stairs, you breathed in the smell of something burning in the kitchen. Your heart sank a little further. Something else gone wrong already. Matty was fanning the oven with a tea towel as smoke poured from inside. "I'm so sorry, love! I thought I could make a cake. I guess not," he sighed. You were disappointed that his surprise was ruined, but felt worse for him when you realised he looked close to tears. You didn't say anything, but you stood beside him and ran a hand through his curls. "Happy birthday, gorgeous." "Thanks, love," you sighed, kissing him on the cheek and going to leave the kitchen. He followed you, reaching for your waist and turning you round to look at him. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "Hey. Talk to me, pretty girl," he mumbled against your lips. "Mum forgot my birthday." "Oh, darling, I'm sorry. I'm gonna make today special, I promise." "It's ok. My birthday's always a bit shit."

Matty sympathised with you for a minute or two, stealing a few more kisses and playing with your hair. "C'mon," he smiled against your mouth. "Breakfast time." He took you by the hand and led you back upstairs to get dressed. While he was pulling his shoes on, he suddenly grinned at you, your heart fluttering a little at his smile. "What?" you laughed. "Nothing, love. You're just so pretty." He stared at your smile for a moment or two, before gasping dramatically. "I almost forgot! I have presents for you but I was thinking you could open them later after your party." "Of course, thanks love."

------------------------------

Your birthday party was in full swing, but you still felt miserable. You had wanted a small gathering of your closest friends, but more people had turned up than you had planned. Your living room was crowded with people who were friends with your boyfriend, not you. George had drank too much and was being sick in the kitchen. Your house was a mess; bottles and cans everywhere, drinks spilled, rubbish on the floor. You had been given about a million presents by your guests, but you were far from in the mood to open them, so they sat untouched in a corner. You wished you were in the kitchen with Matty, George, Ross and Adam, maybe Carly and Charli too. And your family, and Matty's parents and brother. With a birthday cake. With candles to wish on. And a few presents, things you really wanted, instead of piles and piles of things you would never use. Not feeling totally alone in a house full of people you barely knew who were there for the alcohol, not your birthday.

After around 20 minutes of sitting alone in the living room surrounded by strangers, you saw George come back and sit next to you. "Recovered then, Danes?" you smiled at him. "Sorry for being sick in your sink, love. Promise I cleaned it up." He swung and arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. "Good birthday then?" "Not really, to be honest with you. Don't tell Matt. But I'm a bit tired and I kinda just want to go to bed." George's face fell. "Soryy, Y/n. Go to bed, love. Ross and I will get everyone to leave." You smiled sadly and nodded before heading upstairs.

-------------

When the house fell quiet and Matty came upstairs, you were crying. "Darling, I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have had so many people over, I just wanted to make your day special." He sat down beside you and pulled you into his lap, stoking your hair. "It's not your fault babe, you've been so sweet today. I'm sorry, this is selfish of me." Matty gave you a stern look and said, "Absolutely not. You're not selfish for being upset that your day hasn't gone the way you wanted it to." He kissed all over your face, leaving your lips for last. When he pulled away from you, you smiled and his eyes lit up. "There's that pretty smile! Tell you what, why don't you tell me exactly what you want to do tomorrow and we'll have a birthday do-over." You wiped a tear and grinned. "Really?" "Absolutely." "Hmmm," you thought for a moment. "Okay. I want to have a lie in first, and you're not allowed to leave me to make a horrendous mess of the kitchen." Matty grimaced. "Yep, I deserved that," he laughed. "Then I want to go see your mum. I miss her." "Done," Matty confirmed. "She'll be glad to see you." "Then I want us to watch a good film together. I don't even care which one, as long as we have good snacks." "Absolutely. Anything else?" "Nope. Just want you."

Matty curled up beside you in bed and his deep breathing pattern almost sent you to sleep. But he sat up again abruptly, saying "Your present! I almost forgot!" He got out of bed and rummaged in his sock drawer, handing you a small wrapped box. You opened it to find a gorgeous silver necklace with a little butterfly charm on it. "I love it, Matty, thank you!" You cried. He took it out of the box to put it on for you, placing a kiss to your neck after doing so, before pulling you into his chest and holding you tightly.

As you lay down to go to sleep that night you couldn't help but feel a lot better than you had in the morning. And maybe your birthday hadn't been so bad after all. One thing you knew for sure was that your "birthday do-over" with Matty was going to be the best birthday yet.

———————————

A/N: rumour has it this was the cake Matty was trying to make

[abiiors]

VEEEEEEE, i messaged you a few days ago that i was at work and thinking many thoughts of ross and i am once again at work and thinking many thoughts of our big beautiful man…

IN PARTICULAR idk why this is the scenario on my mind but ROSS HAVING A CRUSH ON YOU 🤭🤭🤭 and being sosoooooo smitten and soft for you…. (gnawing at my enclosure) like in this scenario i keep thinking about, it’s ross waiting for you to show up to like an intimate gathering of friends and you’ve met the boys and everyone before through charli cause that’s bestie (need her expeditiously) and you and ross really hit it off!! his head is full of nothing but thoughts of you!! so he’s clearly distracted until you get there then he’s all smiles and laughs and gentle touches (need to be institutionalized) but ALSO until you get there he’s all impatient and antsy asking charli if you let her know what time you’d be there but he asks it more than once so everyone starts teasing him for having a crush and then they tease him even more once you get there cause his whole demeanor changes i’m thinking many normal thoughts 😍😍😍

OH MY GODDDDDDD ANON YOU'RE IN MY HEAD BECAUSE THIS IS LITERALLY A SLEEP SCENARIO FOR ME!!!! i love the whole dynamic of having a crush so much, it's just SO. SOFT. 😭😭

yes, absolutely, you've been introduced to their friend group through charli because she is the fucking coolest and makes an offhanded comment like "hmmm you know what now that you're single, there's someone i wanna introduce you to" (that someone being ross obv) and you do absolutely hit it off but maybe you're both a bit shy at first to ask each other out immediately. like you like each other a lot and worry that the other might not feel the same but oh lordddd he is so down bad.

he's quite good at hiding it though, or maybe he thinks he's quite good at hiding it 🤭 like he won't go up to charli and directly ask her when you're coming. he'd instead just casually be like "oh, thought your friend was coming too, isn't she?" all cool and aloof as if he doesn't care, he's just 'curious' but charli instantly clocks it and smirks at him like "well, aren't you curious!!! she's running a bit late don't worry. she'll be here in 15, i just got a text from her."

and he spends the next 15 minutes trying not to hover near the door so he can be the one to open it once the doorbell rings. anyway, he isn't the one to open it--george is. and you go around saying hello to people and hugging both george and charli before you shyly wave at ross and fix your hair a bit (self conscious, it was kinda windy outside and ross finds it so adorable that your hair is all unruly and messy in a very effortlessly sexy way)

charli immediately hooks her arm with yours and pulls you towards ross and goes "so ross is really good at making cocktails and you were saying how you were gasping for a good martini!" and then she sorta pushes you both together towards her home bar and says "go ahead, use whatever you like"

while your back is turned she also throws a wink at ross who rolls his eyes and mouths a silent thank you (she really is a good wingwoman) and well turns out he is really good at making cocktails. you even comment on it and he's like "come on i'll teach you." so you hold the shaker in your hands a bit unsure until you feel him right behind you and so close that you can almost feel the heat radiating off him. his cologne is mouth-wateringly good and you fucking want to turn around and pull him into a kiss.

he is no better tho--his heart is fucking hammering in his chest because he really does fancy you so much and you're so fucking close to him. so he does the second best thing which is wrapping his hand over yours under the guise of teaching you how to make a martini.

your hand is so small and soft in his and it's like the first time he's ever properly touched you so he feels like he's fucking sixteen again. no one is paying attention to the martini, you're both just busy blushing and being idiots in general. <3

[not-alien-girl-v]

Caramel (Ross Macdonald)

warning: language, reference to the inseam incident that i will never elaborate more on but love to reference over and over again

note: continues in this fluffy lil mini series that sorta starts here. i think i might continue this into a little mini series because i like this dynamic and i think i need more of y/n and ross in this universe. if you want to, you can imagine all the ross one shots i write all exist in the same universe cuz that’s what i do.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

it’s been 2 days since ross forcefully entered came to check in on you at your shared apartment with violet. you’re still on your period, so of course, you’re still finding it difficult to look ross in the eye without succumbing to your wildest dreams, so instead you made plans that are essentially a huge turn-off for you: hanging out with his friends.

“do i do eyeliner for this? is this, like, an eyeliner occasion?” violet questions while pretending she’s not as frantic as she truly is. she sits on the bathroom counter, having knocked over a few things on her climb up but you decided not to pester her about it.

“it really depends on who you plan on talking to.” you are sitting in the empty bathtub, fully clothed and a throw pillow hugged to your stomach. the bathroom door is closed and violet forgot to put on music so both your voices fill up the room, slightly echoing with enough enunciation.

“give me a run through again?” she pleads. you’ve done it twice, so you assume this last time is the last time but for real this time.

“first there’s adam, he has a girlfriend so he doesn’t care. then there’s george-“

“that’s the other big one, right? the blond?”

“we’ll he’s not actually blond, it’s just bleached. and very fried too. so if you’re into a man with a thicker head of hair, then you’d want to go for matty. but he comes with his own things to think about.”

“like?”

“i’m skipping ahead, sorry. so george, he’s very nice, very sweet guy, he is the other big one, he’s 6’4. smokes a lot of weed, like a lot. aside from his occasional forgetfulness from that, he’s very kind, very polite and respectful, very much a feminist. and he loves dogs.”

“well, i’m more of a cat person.”

“and you’re out of luck there. all his friends are dog people. you’ll have to adjust. anyways, then there’s matty. he’s like the ‘wattpad bad boy’ of the friend group, i think he got voted most likely to be a mafia boss and purchase a girl named ‘y/n’ from her junkie mother.”

“can you maybe like tell me something relevant about him?”

“that is relevant. he’s a little shorter, curly hair, a lot of tattoos, i mean, they all do. i think george might have the most, actually. he’s a bit of a dick at times and i know he means well or he’s mean in a comedic manner but more than often he just gets on my nerves and i know you have a much shorter temper than i do.”

“so you’re saying i should try to talk to george more.”

“i’m saying you should be careful. men are unpredictable and weird. and gross. you heard about the inseam incident, didn’t you?”

she visibly shudders. “god, how could i forget? fucking grotesque…”

she turns back to meet her own reflection in the mirror, staring blankly, but soon realizes how easily you dodged her original question. “wait, so eyeliner or no eyeliner?”

you give her a long, studying look. “eyeliner.”

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

you hold the door open for violet, always feeling like a gentleman to her damsel whenever she’s around. the inside of the boys’ house is much warmer than outside, and it feels like home, if home was a set temperature.

matty and george bicker over something in front of the tv, a case of dvds, maybe. adam is balls deep in conversation with his girlfriend, carly, while he pets allen, george’s matty’s dog. ross is in the kitchen grabbing a soda and a beer when he turns around at the noise of the door being opened.

“there’s my girl!” he exclaims, seemingly tipsy before the party has even begun. he drops both beverages on the kitchen island and circles around to give violet a brief side hug and you a much more substantial one. he squishes you in so tight you feel your ribs crack and splinter under the weight of it and he’s warm like a home should be. “good to see you, violet, you ready to meet my mates? they’ve been giddy about your arrival all day.”

“fuck off, we have not!” matty hollers over his shoulder and while his head is turned, george swiftly sticks a dvd of his own choice into the player and stands up, fleeing from the scene of the crime. he dusts his hands off on his jeans and reaches out to help his friend off the floor.

once matty realizes what has been done, his jaw drops in offense, and pettily, pushes g’s hands away and reluctantly stands up on his own. he stretches his arms up high and his back and elbows crack in the process. you’re much more used to his antics than violet, so you know he’s only doing this action to make the bottom of his t-shirt ride up, revealing his happy trail and his sexy tattoos.

this isn’t just some weird head-canon you have for him, you’ve actually heard him admit to this trick before when attempting to woo a woman.

ross leads the two of you over to the three men loitering the living room. “violet, this is adam,” adam doesn’t stand as the dog is in his lap, but he gives a humble wave that suffices, “matty,” violet doesn’t need to be pointed to who matty is. he stands and smiles widely and wraps violet in a hug.

“bold,” you mutter. matty flips you off behind violet’s back. you roll your eyes but he doesn’t catch it.

george approaches then, exuding a strange energy you’d never seen before. not from him at least. “and i’m george,” he extends a hand for a firm handshake, and when you watch violet agree to it, you can see him squeeze her hand just a smidge too tight.

they both are so weird. why can’t they just act normal around your friend?

“why are you two acting like freaks?” ross speaks the words right from your mouth and you feel a strong sense of adoration for him the way he can just simply share a thought of yours.

“no reason. anyway, we’re watching 'monster house,'" george dismisses and fetches the beer ross had been in the process of grabbing for him. while in the kitchen, he grabs two more sodas, holding both the cans perfectly in one large hand and you wonder what it must be like to possess such an ability.

ross drops down onto one end of the large couch, leaning into the arm of it and matty gets comfortable on a single arm chair, not leaving much opportunity to sit near violet and you start observing the weird male hierarchy that is already set in place when a new female is introduced to the ecosystem. were they like when you first met them all? you never bothered to ask, it never happened across your mind.

george returns with the sodas and hands one to you and one to violet, ever the gentleman, and sits down on the other side of the largest couch in the room.

“hey, wasn’t that coke supposed to be mine?” ross complains.

“there’s only two left. and y/n and violet are guests, so if y/n would like to share with you, that’s on her.”

ross sticks his tongue out at george’s back when he turns to fuss with the remote. you join the men on the couch, sitting a distance from ross and he immediately pulls you closer than close, you’re basically on his lap at this point. you’re confused at this sudden pda but then you notice it gives violet enough room to squeeze in right next to george on the couch. stupid unspoken male hierarchy rules.

you hand the soda to ross, not even having to ask or say anything at all, he knows it’s his official boyfriend duty to crack it open for you. he does exactly that, stealing a sip of it before handing it back. you squint at him.

you are sly when you side eye violet and george, completely eavesdropping on their gentle conversation but acting like you’re caught up in your own with your boyfriend. if you didn’t know any better, you’d say ross was listening in as well. you’re so in sync with him.

“i moved here after high school, my family is back in california,” you hear violet inform him and george looks all too interested.

“that explains the accent. it’s not everyday you hear an american, especially around here. why didn’t you go somewhere cooler like london?”

“y/n and i used to live there but then she started studying here so we made the move together. and sorry about the whole accent. it sounds a little silly compared to you guys, i know.”

“it’s not silly at all. i’ve actually always found it quite sexy, the american speak.”

it would sound like a load of bullshit if it were coming from anyone else but george is always so sincere in every word he says, you decide to leave them be for now.

you turn back to the man next to you. “can i kiss you?”

he scrunches his eyebrows, “since when do you need to ask?”

“i’m wearing lipstick. it’s gonna get on you. it might be… i don’t know… embarrassing.”

“why would it be embarrassing to have visible proof i just kissed a girl?”

“so that’s a yes, then?”

“kiss me any time. i love your lipstick. get it all over me if you want to.”

you decide to take that as a challenge and use both your hands to hold him down still, kissing every inch of his face that isn’t covered by the dark, coarse hair of his beard.

it takes him by surprise, so he sits still in shock for a few moments, letting you make a complete mess on his face, before finally retaliating, grabbing your face this time and kissing you properly.

“ew, get a room,” you didn’t even notice matty in the corner on the chair, now wrapped up in a thick blanket and pile driving a bowl of popcorn completely solo, looking like a young girl menstruating for the very first time.

ross wraps his arms around you, cradling you protectively into his neck. “mind your business, dickwad. watch the movie.” you mumble something into ross’s neck and he lets you loose so you can speak up. “what’s that?”

“douche canoe.”

he cackles in laughter, “yeah, you’re a douche canoe.”

matty rolls his eyes and you’re more than content with his irritation, so you finally give it a rest and cuddle back into ross, enjoying his warmth since matty stole both of the couch blankets.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

taglist: @indierockgirrl @itssimpleanditgoeslikethis @americanangel @butyou-callmewhenyourebored

[nervousladytraveler]

Spicy Romance Prompts:

"You like that, huh?" Ross & Demelza

Thank you

Oh @veryflowerobservation my old friend, thanks for the ask. I know you have politely left other prompts in my box and I do promise I'll get to them soon. Here's a silly little something (maybe from "The Shift" universe?).

-----

Afternoons were hardest. To work alongside her and in such a confined space without recognising what they'd meant to each other just the night before?

Mornings were somewhat more tolerable. Perhaps they still wore the flush of love, and the way their flesh had just recently trembled when touched was easily recalled. Fresh memories that could satisfy them for a bit while they caught their breath and recovered their strength–and went about their jobs. The morning rush of customers who were already waiting when Ross unlocked the cafe doors (and who needed their coffee and buns yesterday) paused for no one. There simply wasn't time for his hand to innocently brush against hers at the till or for even a single flirty glance in her direction.

But by afternoon, when business was at a lull, Ross could bear it no longer. He’d watch Demelza stretch to reach for a cup or lean to wipe up a spill (Just how did someone make jeans and a tshirt look so alluring?) and he imagined the beautiful body underneath her work clothes. By now he knew that body’s curves and hidden depths, quite well in fact. Many times he’d seen her lean over him (in varying states of undress) and many more she’d stretched out (fully naked) on his bed. 

He closed his eyes, to see more in his mind and to suppress the groan that was forming in his gut. 

It had been her idea to keep their relationship secret.

“Just a little while, Ross,” she’d said. “I like that it belongs only to us right now and we don't have to answer to anyone.” She meant she didn't want Prudie or Jud or even Jinny prying or offering commentary, no matter if it was lewd or encouraging. She didn't want her good work at the cafe to be scrutinised since she was now sleeping with the boss. And she mostly didn't want her family–her volatile father and her pious brothers–to get a whiff of her sex life.

Of course Ross honoured that wish. He was never one for public displays of affection anyway and mostly kept his emotions–except for anger–under wraps. But pretending he didn't want her when she was so close was getting more and more difficult, and he found his lifetime of stoicism was rather easily discarded.

Once he’d almost thrown all caution to the wind and pressed her against the dairy case so that she could feel for herself just how he bore his desire. Surely the older gentleman hidden behind his Newquay Voice, was dozing, his flat white growing cold. And the two teenagers at the window table were both engrossed by their mobiles and wouldn't notice or couldn't be bothered to care if they did.

But instead Ross bit his lip and mumbled something about taking out the rubbish. 

“Do you need any help?” Demelza began but he’d already marched out, slamming the back door without really intending to.

She couldn't have helped him even if he required it. Someone had to think of the customers. 

When he reached the bin, he saw one of the flimsy bags had a tear in its side and had left a leaking trail behind him. He lifted it higher, trying to shift its weight and reposition the tear, hoping he could heave it over the side of the bin before it vomited its contents on the pavement, but only succeeded in spilling the muck on his trainers.

“Fuck, that’s foul!” He chucked the bag and kicked the wall to try to dislodge the gloppy mess–pasta primavera had been today’s lunch special–from his shoe. “Disgusting! What the hell am I meant to do with this filth!” he growled before he saw he had no choice but to use his hands to clear his foot. “Fuck me!”

"Okay, if you insist. But filthy, eh? You like that, huh?" Somehow Demelza had come up behind him. He heard her laugh and looked up into her amused face.

“You find this humorous?” he asked though he couldn't help but smile.

“I just wish it had been that lovely genoise sponge instead, then I might lick the frosting off you.” As she spoke her tongue peeked out between her lips, reminding him of just what that mouth was capable of.

“Demelza, you are torturing me...” But before he could finish she’d stepped closer and kissed him. One hand rested on his cheek, the other was woven through his curls.

He needed no further invitation and leaned into her mouth, seeking to consume as much of her as he could in this stolen moment. But without using his own hand to grab hold of her, he found he was losing his balance and stepped aside to avoid crashing into her with his soiled clothes.

“Damn…”

“Don’t worry. Prudie showed up so she’s watching the shop,” Demelza explained, working hard to contain another laugh.

“I wasn’t worried about that,” he said and held up his filthy hand.

“Poor, Ross,” she said and lifted up her tshirt just a bit at the waist. Taking his wrist, she guided his hand to her bare skin and pressed it against her.

“Demelza,” he objected. “Now you’re…”

“Oops. Looks like we’ll both have to bunk off to clean up,” she offered.

“And strip off these foul clothes?” He said and pulled her into another kiss. 

“Maybe a shower together,” she whispered. “I’m feeling rather dirty, you know.”

[graciegoeskrazy]

Healy!reader’s relationship to the boys

george - as mentioned previously, george is the official-unofficial godfather. (official because matty deemed him that, and unofficial because your father is an atheist) your dad also always puts him down as your 2nd emergency contact - him being first of course. He was one of the first people to hold you when you were born and was looking forward to life with his new little buddy. He always called you “bubs” and when you were a baby and first started to babble, you tried to say it back and eventually kept saying “bubba” instead and kept pointing at him whenever you said it or tried to get his attention. from then on he was bubba to you and he loved that he had a nickname. you call him whenever you're in some sort of trouble that you don’t want your dad finding out about. You had him pick you up from a party and admitted to him you tried drugs but swore immediately that you’d never do it again. He was like “Bubs, what the hell?!” and you said “I know, Bubba. I know, I’ll never do it again!” and he said “No not doing drugs- doing drugs without me! Next time you feel like having fun, you call your uncle George and let him get you something. I need to make sure you're not getting worse stuff on the streets or someone is trying to rip you off!” you we’re like uh okay cool but no thanks. your dad was pissed when he found out. Not at you ofc - he was happy you were out and about being a teenager. he was pissed at george for the encouragement and that he didn’t tell him.

Adam - your dad likes to joke that you started having conversations with people that moment you were born. you would always make these noises. Eventually your dad could differentiate them and he would be able to tell if you were hungry, or tired or whatever. You tried to call people by their names before you could really speak. Again- they were just like sounds. Adam became “adi” and that’s all you’ve called him since. usually nowadays it’s “uncle adi” or something of the sort. he was set on you being a musician from the very start. he gave you your very first guitar lesson at the ripe age of 3 which was basically just him playing guitar to whatever song was blasting and you strumming along on your hannah montana mini guitar that bubba got you for christmas without playing any actual chords or holding any rhythm. He’s the uncle you spill all the tea to first. He knows who everyone in your school is because you two always shit talk about the bitches in your school and gossip about whatever taylor swift was doing that day. “So she called me literally CRYING that her friend canceled on her and i was like ‘gurl don’t worry we can go out together tmr’ and so we made plans for the next day” and he’s just like “uh huh” and just nodding on and on “but THEN she cancels our plans the very next day and was like ‘oh i have a family event’ but then a check her instagram story AND SHES OUT WITH ALL OUR FRIENDS WITHOUT ME!” and he matches your energy and is like “WHAT A BITCH!” he loves you very very dearly and would drop everything in a second to be wherever you needed him.

ross - When you were little and started speaking little words you would point at ross and just say “tall” which always made everyone laugh. It eventually turned into “tallie” (t - ah - lee) the vowels never made sense to the boys but they just chalked it up to you being a baby of a britt being raised in america. he’s the most ‘uncle like’ (?) like he’s always making sure you do your homework and makes sure you're home at a certain time and shit. all 3 are overprotective as FUCK but ross definitely takes the cake for most over protective. he’s like “be back my 10” and you’d always fight him and be like “10!?! cmon! midnight man!” and he sticks his ground. “no way.” “what about 11:30?” “it’s about to be 9 if you keep it up…” “fine i’ll be back by 10.” - you, accepting your defeat.

[kindestofkings]

got a book for every situation

ryan mcmahon x reader

reader runs a bookstagram/bookclub but instead of just reading about love, until she meets a certain drummer...

authors note: guys i think i love ryan an unhealthy amount

yourusername

location: london!

liked by bookfan1 and others

yourusername heyy guys sorry I've been kind of quiet on here but I've MOVED egh it's been v scary and hectic even though it was only from Dublin to London. don't worry tho bookstagram will stay alive !

hows everyone doing?! what are yee reading rn?

view 100 comments

bookfan1 wow city girl! I'm reading normal people at the moment :)

yourusername ik shaking things up hehe, also hope you're enjoying the heartbreaking miscommunication ... bookfan1 it is hard out here :(

bookfan2 no way I'm living in london ! lmk if you need any friends here xx

yourusername omg yes! I was thinking of starting a bookclub? thoughts? bookfan2 yes I'd so be down !! bookfan3 me too! I just moved here aswell

bookfan4 currently just buying books and not reading them

yourusername meee, expect I'm now broke from moving so I'm on a self-inflicted book ban 😔😔

ryanmcmahon_15

liked by elijahhewson and others

ryanmcmahon_15 get on your jogging shorts and pick up a brush

view all 83 comments

inhalerfan1 ok artist 🥴

inhalerfan2 your bob ross era omg

yourusername

liked by yourbestie and others

yourusername new city but same old hopeless romantic <3 maybe london will hold a romantic interest ?

also next months bookclub is organised so keep an eye out for my story with the dets 💗

view 70 other comments

bookfan1 yayyy can't wait!!

bookfan2 omg getting closer to a face reveal by the day

yourusername 🤭🤭

yourbestie YOU COULD EASILY HAVE A ROMANTIC INTEREST IF YOU TEXTED THAT GUY ! (also come home I miss your bookclub)

yourusername ughh leave off it ! he was just being nice .. yourbestie oohh yeah he walked up to you at a bar, talked to you for a few and then gave you his number only because he was being nice... mmhmm bookfan2 omg text him what the hell! bookfan3 this is the stuff of books! bookfan2 is he cute?? yourusername ahahha yes. and fineeee I'll text him 😅 terrifying😅

ryanmcmahon_15 added to his story!

location: london!

replies:

bobbyskeetz ehhhhh what do we have here??

joshjennkinson_ IS THAT THE GIRL FROM THE BAR !!!

↳ ryanmcmahon_15 it might me yes 🤭

inhalerfan1 ryannnn okay cheater !

yourusername posted on their story!

location: national gallery!

fear I'm terrible date company, but in my defence there was stuff to read EVERYWHERE

replies:

yourbestie WE DONT CARE ABOUT THE PLAQUE HOW WAS THE DATE !!!!

↳ it was so good, he was the sweetest and really into art and and is really passionate about music and and and he was just really pretty ...

↳ yourbestie omg girlllll you are hung UP

ryanmcmahon_15 great company* lets not lie

↳ ahhh have you not made me blush enough this month !

bookfan1 stop you are slay, he's so lucky for your company !

joshjenkinson_,bobbyskeetz and elijahhewson just followed you!

yourusername

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername happy 9 months to my pride and joy, our book club <3

your support has meant to me and has supported my reading addiction, big MWAH !

I've met so many new friends, insanely made it onto three publishing houses pr list?!?!? and got a job all through this little bookstagram. you all are the best xx

view all 100 comments

bookfan1 wooow we love a successful queen !

bookfan2 reading is sooo hot and sooo slay

bookfan3 is that a book bouquet? and a pic taken by someone else???

yourusername mwhahah eagled eye youuuu. also HOW cute is the bouquet ! (liked by ryanmcmahon_15)

inhalerfan1 high key why did all the band follow a random bookstagram?

inhalerfan2 shes irish living in london, maybe they're friends from home?? inhalerfan3 but then they'd already follow her tho

yourusername

liked by yourbestie and others

yourusername dating a musician means one thing... associating tunes with books !!!

(also getting your oranges peeled for you 😭😭)

view all 75 comments

yourbestie y'all are adorable, I love <3

bookfan1 he seems so sweet !

ryanmcmahon_15 you forgot forcing people to listen to lana del ray...

yourusername oh yeah !! how could I forget that I'm bettering the lives of others :))) bobbyskeetz he does be humming let the light in constantly. yourusername awhhh too soft for it

inhalerfan1 ooohhh is she dating ryan !?

yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername ugh sick with love, but he reads my favourite books and instead of annotations he paints them 🥹

also tickets for next month's book club are out this sundayyyyy ! Xx

view all 123 comments

inhalerfan1 omg boyfriend ryan is everything

joshjenkinson_ ryan being in his bookworm era has the tour bus kinda quiet

bookfan1 sooo invested in your relationship , also have the alarm set for the tickets !

ryanmcmahon_15

liked by yourusername and others

ryanmcmahon_15 black and white is owned by lewevans btw

view all 88 comments

yourusername being really cool is owned by you btw

joshjenkinson_ 2/3 pics you're reading, yourusername your power is unmatched 🤭

elijahhewson reading era

inhalerfan1 hahaha ugh I love them your honour

lewevans 🖤 🤍

yourusername posted on their story!

gorgeous boy <;3

replies:

ryanmcmahon_15 love you ❤️

↳ LOVE YOU MORE

inhalerfan1 im so so jealous of you

bookfan1 when are you writing a book about your love story ??

↳ hahhaha omg imagine ! dont tempt me..

yourusername

location: new york new york!

liked by ryanmcmahon_15 and others

yourusername yeah my boyfriends pretty cool but he's not as cool as

THE BOOKSTORE THAT I FOUND WHICH SELLS BOOKS AND PICKLES !!!

view all 64 comments

bobbyskeetz meeeee, im a brooklyn babyyyy

yourusername you get me.

yourbestie you are SO cool

bookfan1 wait I need all the details ??

yourusername it was the cutiest little secondhand bookshop in the lower east side of manhattan but they also make their own pickles

the end

what did you think? 😏

[yourtouchismidas]

reading what the new yorker has to say about george and how he radiates utter stillness (very hot) has given me so many ideas, like imagine him with someone who has the absolute shortest fuse ever. idk maybe while he believes in quiet, stoic intimidation, girlie (a foot shorter than him) just gets into a bar fight. maybe she sees a couple of much older men getting a bit too comfy with young girls just trying to have a fun night and she's ready to throw hands. firm believer that george has to actually pick her up and take her away so she doesn't get arrested. also a firm believer of the fact that he finds it insanely attractive and shows it to her quite generously

(the possibilities are endless 😌)

you're drunk. its fucking great and you're having an amazing time. the music is loud. everyone is dancing. you're grinding on some girl you havent ever met, dont even know, and your boyfriend and his bandmates are all at the bar, sipping beers and laughing at you. with the exception of matty who is right there on the dancefloor with you, jumping around and pumping his fist.

ugh george. you love him. you love his face. his cheek bones. his smile when he laughs at you. you give him a cute little wave and he winks at you, barely moving apart from that. then you go back to dancing. god life is good.

you've lost the girl you were dancing with before but you dance with matty for a bit, his curls bouncing, you whooping, egging him on, and him grabbing your hands and spinning you around. when he does, he takes a step back and accidentally nudges a girl behind him, and her and her friends turn to you both, you meeting their eyes as you finish you spin.

matty holds his hands up, "sorry, sorry,"

they glare at him. you pull matty away and start dancing again, saying sorry yourself. the girls turn away. they sip thier drinks. but they aren't moving. thier standing on the dance floor. not dancing. there is plenty of space over by the bar to stand, if they want. you wave at george again, who is standing in the space, like a good boy.

oh well. fuck them. you're having a good night. you just wish they would stop glaring at you, because they are again, in between the gaps matty's arms make. you spin him around so your back is to them instead, so they wont get upset with him again if he nudges them, because he might, because he is drunk too.

you dont know if your feet actually land on hers, you dont feel it, and okay they might have, but the girl yells out.

"erm. ow!" she says. you turn around.

"sorry," you say again, even though you're not even sure you touched her.

"you stood on my foot," she says.

"i'm sorry," you say again, not sure what she wants you to do.

"you should be a bit fucking more careful, you know."

you breathe in. you were being careful. but thats not the point. its a dance floor. in a club. it's one in the morning. and they are standing on it. you start to burn, in your chest, angry.

"you know there is plenty of space over there if you dont wanna dance," you say, pointing to the bar. george notices you point. his attention pricks. he looks over to where you are talking to a group of girls and one of them is giving you a dirty look.

"we can stand where we want thanks," she says. "just like you act like a twat wherever you are."

"woah, alright," matty says, stopping dancing.

"what's this guy's problem anyway?" the girl says, looking round at her friends.

"we don't have a problem," matty says.

"we might," you say, staring at her. george has put his beer down on the side. ross is already primed, ready to watch it, if needs be.

"no no, just go back to dancing," matty says, smiling big at the girls.

"go back to standing in everyone's fucking way you mean," you say.

"shut the fuck up," the girl says, stepping closer to you.

you're in it now, you can't back down, you cant let this girl win. you step towards her too.

"i'll do what i like, thanks though."

the girl shoves you. everyone around you moves. you're reaching out to shove her, and before you know it, george is in the crowd with you, hand on your shoulder and waist, firm, looking down at the girl that shoved you. she has to look up to see his face.

"everything okay here?" he says, mainly to the other girl.

she nods. but she's smirking. she looks back at her friends, smirking. you lunge, out of his protective grasp, towards her. she steps back, trips a little, spills her pink drink all down her white dress. you dont reach her. georges arms have got you again, but this time, he is lifting you into the air.

"come on," he says, "be the bigger person,"

"i dont want to," you say squirming. the girl is crying, looking down at her ruined dress while all the other girls flock around her and fawn over her.

"dont have to," george says, nudging you to look at her, sobbing. you smirk.

george turns to carry you out, but before he does, he turns back to the girls and says, almost monotone, "ladies, if you're not gonna dance, dont stand on the dancefloor. it's good advice"

and then you're both gone, into the night air, into your boyfriend's arms.

[rossmacdonaldsgf]

let go of me slowly.

in which the lead singer of the biggest band fell in love with you in stages but let go of you.

18 years old

reading festival was a big deal for the youth of the 2000s, the ‘in’ place to go to. also presumably the dodgiest place, it was the perfect way to spend a summers week, in a field, getting high and insanely drunk with a band of your mates, listening to music that have topped the charts for months. the sun shining was illuminating against the flashing lights, the beat of the music reverberating through the floor, hustles of teenagers jumping and screaming along to the beat of an artist you were only mildly interested in. and to add to it all, the figure of a very tall gentleman was blocking any chance of a good view. but, crowds were rowdy and you definitely weren’t looking to start any fights, so with a dirty look and a grumble, you decided there were more troubling things wrong with the world then an abnormally tall man blocking your view. that was until someone pushed into you, sending you cascading into his back.

‘you alright love?’. god he was northern. those accents always made you weak. you weren’t sure if it was the embarrassment of falling into the back of a stranger, the fact the group of friends were incredibly attractive, or, the fact the curly haired one currently had a grip on your arm and was looking down at you somewhat concerned. clearing your throat you averted your gaze down to the floor, ‘i’m fine, thanks though, some dick was pushing. sorry’. a collective murmur of “it’s okay” made you feel somewhat better, the air of embarrassment lifting, until you realised, in the chaos of people, your friends seemed to have evaporated into thin air. you cursed under your breath, a harsh whisper that you thought was to yourself, until the curly man chuckled, ‘y’alright?’ you sighed, these guys obviously weren’t leaving and being stranded in the middle of a crowd, by yourself, while the sun was setting wasn’t exactly on your top 20 list of things you’d like to do. ‘my friends have buggered off somewhere, no clue where they’ve gone.’ the brunette tall one shrugged, looking to the long haired taller one, neither of them said anything but you guessed from their looks to eachother, they were having a silent conversation. the long haired taller one spoke first, ‘can’t be wondering round here by yourself love we’ll walk you back, saves us from having to find a shit toilet to smoke in to find some enjoyment.’ you chuckled, if your friends were going to leave you stranded in a festival, why not make some new ones.

the walk back was too short for your liking, the curly haired one; who you’d come to know as matty, or matthew ( the tall bearded one only called him that if he was about to do something idiotic), had his arm slung round your shoulders, occasionally wrapping your hair round his finger. in the time you’d spent walking, you’d learnt they’re in a band, albiet not a particularly famous one, but, matty had hopes of it taking off, ‘you watch love, someday we’ll be playing a sold out madison square garden, everyone there to see us, it’ll be fucking sick won’t it hann?’ hann. the quieter one, the nicer, more friendly looking one, hummed in agreement, his eyes seemingly looking over the streams of people walking back to their camps. the long haired taller one, george, gave matty a harsh shove to his shoulder, ‘don’t get too cocky mate, if you end up serving her a takeaway instead of giving her a ticket to our shows you’ll look like a right twat.’ he cackled, obviously finding himself funny, before sauntering off to bother ross. in the short time you’d spent with them, you could somewhat gather their humour consisted of lightheartedly bullying eachother, but still, you didn’t feel right leaving matty on a low note, ‘matt, i think you’ll make it y’know.’ his dark eyes were questioning, ‘you just have that thing about you that makes it so clear you’re not here to fuck around.’ and with that, in the middle of a walkway in reading festival, he bent down and kissed you.

2013 - self titled - 23 years old.

reading seemed like an age away. an age of music, studios, arguments, drinking and love. you and matty were on and off, having eachother when you needed it most, but watching on the sidelines as the other was claimed by a person that was not them. not that you cared, matty was your best friend, not your boyfriend, and with the release of their debut album, you had no time for your thoughts to be plagued with hazy memories of late nights and stolen kisses. yet, here you were, laying on a sofa, the background noise of matty and george arguing filling the silence, while you thought about his lips. you rubbed your eyes, as if the action would force the thoughts and images out of your mind.

today was the day. it came with excitement, anger and an overwhelming bunch of nerves. the boys had secured a few loyal fans with the first release of ‘the city’, the fame only growing as they released ‘chocolate, sex and girls.’ but no fan could compare to you, being there since before the beginning, watching the late night tears, the protruding thoughts that’ll they’ll never be good enough. you stayed. you always did and you always would. you knew that for sure. the five of you sat on a sofa, mattys head leaning on your shoulder, it was too quiet for you all, the usual chatter had died out around five minutes ago, now you just sat, staring at a screen while waiting for the album that would change it all to drop. you turned your head, just enough so you could see matty. his face held emotions he would never say, it always did, you didn’t need words, you just moved your hand enough to cover his and intertwined your pinky fingers. a symbol of forever. he let himself smile faintly, before patting your hand, unlocking your fingers, the first crack formed prominently in your heart.

27 years old - rehab

great things had been achieved, that you were sure of. but if things so great had been accomplished, why could you feel your cracking more, the pieces matty had already picked at, falling apart as you watches georges lips move, not quite sure of the words coming out of them. you’re not sure that you meant to let out a sob that loud, perhaps you meant to keep it in your mind, swallow it down for your broken heart to keep. but you did, you could see their facades break, ross wrapped you in a hug. it was warm and grounded you, but you had no feeling. for years you’d let matty have you, come to you when things got tricky or when ex lovers moved on, you drank, you smoke, you loved so hard it physically hurt. then he became a shadow of someone you once knew, a person who caged away their inner self. you knew, you always did, so watching him leave, it healed that part, but broke the rest.

days turned into months, your life hadn’t been normal in years, yet with the absence of him, you felt a comfort in the simplicity of the days, you would go on a walk every morning. the silence of your four walls was becoming suffocating, you would buy a tea from the local coffee store, you never liked tea so you weren’t sure why you bought it. but he liked tea, and tea tasted like him, so every day, without fail, you bought it. you’d see ross, carly, adam or george, whoever was free, it didn’t matter, you just needed that someone, someone to talk to. you never talked about the band. you talked about life, you talked about the latest trends, the places you’d like to visit and what new recipes you wanted to try, for once, left felt simple and recognisable. and then, the way he does best, in his tornado of chaos and unspoken thoughts, he was there.

it was silent, not the uncomfortable kind where you sweat at the palms as you rack your brain for things to say, but the comforting silence that envelopes two old friends. ‘you look well.’ well. he just made the un-awkwardness very awkward. you sighed, looking at him ‘god healy, you look.’ you racked your brain for something to say ‘you look like you. you look like my matty.’ he smiled. a watery pathetic smile, but a smile that had you giddy nonetheless. you weren’t sure when you realised, maybe it was then, or maybe it was the months spent rereading texts and listening to his songs. but you were 99% sure you were irrevocably in love with matty healy.

28 years old - be my mistake

his face always spoke a thousand words. you were sure you could read his mind from one look into those safe eyes. but for once, you weren’t sure where to look. ‘you’re fucking in love with me?’

it wasn’t your fault. you were drunk, and so insanely happy, he’d wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed you both to the music, you’d looked up at him, you’d kissed him and told him you loved him. you would never forget the way he stepped backwards shaking his head. he disappeared for the night. you spent your hours sat, replaying the moment over and over again. then, when sunlight came and the world seemed a bit brighter, you saw a pretty young thing waltzing out of his room. she was perfect, small, gorgeous, so matty. you waited outside his hotel room, banging on his door to knock him out of his hungover state, he opened the door, he didn’t need to look at you to know your hurt, ‘y’know i get lonely baby, it’s not my fault you’re in love with me y’know.’ you scoffed, you knew your eyes were filling with tears but you refused to appear weak, ‘rockstar gets lonely? some cover of a newspaper that is. you’re a dick healy, an idiot, get your act together.’ he rolled his eyes, shutting the door mumbling a warning to quit the petty jokes.

30 years old - lockdown

his lingering touches, his hair decorated with delicate streaks of grey, signifying the years that have passed since that fateful day. you were sat, curled into him in a completely ‘platonic’ way. his delicate, gentle hands wound in your hair, his tongue in your mouth. this is what friends do, sometimes they kiss, hook up. it’s 100% platonic. but you couldn’t stop your heart racing, your skin tingling, the whines falling, your hands gripping. it was instinct, his touch addictive. you wanted. no. you needed more, you craved it, he was your addiction. unfortunately, the aggravating tone of the current prime minister, boris johnson, interrupted the current makeout. matty groaned, obviously annoyed as he flicked his attention from you to the radio. the house was quiet, you both listened, unaware of the news he was about to bring. the words, the ideas, the things that would change it all. your heart dropped, a wave of nausea hitting you face on, you turned to matty, unsure and unaware. ‘a lockdown?’

the three months, as awful as it sounds, were blissful. you and matty locked into a bubble of serenity and calm. enjoying eachother (sometimes a bit too much), writing songs and savouring the time spent locked away from the outside world. in that time, a deep well of guilt, lies and love had you drowning. your thoughts plagued every time you looked at him. you had dreams of being his, loving and doting for him. your heart ached with love, with the need to be loved, you missed him when he wasn’t even yours. you needed him like oxygen. after everything, the girls, the addictions, the separation, you craved him, to feel his fingers in your hair while you breathed in his scent. you knew you could never be his. so you begged at night, looking at the stars, begging to be let go slowly. a statue of love, rigid and cold if he asked, you’d stay for years, waiting and hopeful for him.

current day - the end.

behind the scenes. that’s where you stayed. whisked away in a flurry of love, bitterness and confusion. sunlit days morphing into drunken nights with dilated pupils and forgotten touches. his adrenaline fuelled by the passion of performance, in the best of times his true self being lost in the whirlwind of live music and lyrics that once meant something. ‘it’s all an act baby you know that.’ the words he whispered, or in most cases shouted. the words that once caused a warm feeling to engulf your body, only you knew your matty, only you got to see him. nobody else. except, you weren’t even sure you knew him. his eyes becoming distant, his hair becoming grey. ‘then why does it hurt so much?’ you already knew the answer, his eyes sad with tears, longing to hold you again. you couldn’t leave with this memory, couldn’t leave with the pain. all the nights praying to the stars and praying to a god you never believed in never worked. he was with a girl, she was perfect, she was the one. you were positive that every story, every universe with matty ended with him walking away. he claimed your love, was an act, he needed you for musical inspiration. you never loved him he said, you loved the idea of him. you didn’t understand. you watched, a distance away, hoping he’ll remember your name and remember the way he held you, kissed you, loved you. and, like always, you stayed, waiting for eternity for him, you always did and you always would. waiting for your matty

[ronearoundblindly]

Hi Ro! I have this idea eating a hole in my brain since it manifested. I feel like we see a lot of mafia! Steve and Bucky where the reader is one of their gf and the other is her bodyguard or something else of the sort (which I love) BUT…

Could you imagine a badass bodyguard reader? Like, she works to protect one of them and they don’t even sexualize her, but after seeing how well they work together and how dedicated and hard-working she is, they just hopelessly fall in love? Which launches mutual pining, but also both of them thinking it’s unrequited and her still just girlbossing away. Until some inciting inciting incident (TBD) which makes them super close to realize how they feel and then both of them needing a new bodyguard because now she’s the gf of a mafia boss.

I’d try and write it but I don’t have anywhere near as much talent as you and wouldn’t do it justice. Also, sorry if this adds to your 92747739 other WIPs

Alright. Full disclosure: I am not even remotely a fan of the mafia!fic, or mob!fic, or really any of the tropes that take a fundamental piece of a character out of the equation. To me, doing the right thing and using personal harm as a last resort are inextricable from Steve's personality--and is what we love about him.

[To be clear, I am not throwing shade on y'alls writing or reading preferences! Just telling you my take on it. You do you 😘]

His character lends itself to being a CEO, like in the It Had To Be You series, a military commander, or even president.

In that regard, I wonder if it would fall into the same vein of story to have Steve be running for some sort of 'office' but in a kind of dystopian country as the non-corrupt candidate who is in danger due to political/military pressures between opponents?

Say...maybe John Walker could be the smooth-talking but selfish alt runner? Bucky and Steve and Walker used to serve in the armed forces under an equally corrupt dictator figure...say, Ross, perhaps? Then Steve broke away--like the Nomad persona--until he emerged to run against Walker with a faction of the military's support.

So you're hired as part of Bucky's security team first, but since Bucky is with Steve so much, you're very recognizable to Steve. There could be a minor attack at a public event where you throw yourself in front of Bucky (who threw himself in front of Steve), and the real surprise to them is that you want to return without hesitation once recovered.

After a completely professional, stone-faced few months, Steve wins the election.

The night's celebrations go on till the wee hours; you keep a keen eye on your charges even though it's the first time either has seen you in a formal gown instead of a plain suit. When the results are actually announced on the TV, Steve is struck by seeing you smile and get emotional for the first time. It warms his heart to see you proud of him. It's a relief to know you don't just stick around as an employee. You actually believe in him and what he's doing.

fucking swoon

I'm not sure whether I'd write this as Stucky x reader or Steve with reader and Bucky as a friend, honestly, but I feel like after Steve (and maybe Bucky) turn in at their hotel room after all that partying, you're the guard at the door.

Steve debates inviting you inside because he's so curious to know more about you personally.

He opens the door, but you're not there. Sam Wilson is. He took over the shift so you could get out of your heels.

Steve makes up some shitty excuse to need your room number, fusses over going to talk to you alone, maybe says Bucky will come with him as protection instead (since at very least Buck is sus of Steve's interest).

You answer the door sans jewelry and shoes but with the dress still on. He can come in if he helps with the zipper and buttons down the back. For such big hands, his fingers are nimble as they work the delicate fastenings.

ope, swooned again

And then...ya know...this is all very tempting since the night has been charged with adrenaline and hope, so...yeah...

Steve goes in for a kiss and more.

🥴

Idk. Probably. Something like that. Is that close enough to mob/mafia? Not my wheelhouse so this is likely the best I can do...

Can y'all help me? You want stucky or just stevie?? Promise that the politics is more of a background thing, but it's the only scenario I could work with in their canon dynamic/personalities.