#Matty concepts
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joe-spookyy · 5 months ago
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what if a werewolf was a filmbro
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jojoseames · 8 months ago
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While in the theater seeing "Madame Web" for a second time, I got to thinking how in a better, brighter universe, there would have been some kind of fast food tie-in promotion for this movie, with little Madame Web toys for children. Here, I have illustrated the concept as it exists in my heart, with both the toys and the box they would have come in. 🖤
Ink & Digital JoJo Seames, 2024
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ughgoaway · 7 months ago
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like your playboy bunny
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a/n; this is bad. like criminally so... but I'm 3k + in, so you're getting it anyway, sorry!!!
Content warnings; kissing, unprotected sex, riding, semi-public sex, degradation, use of “bunny”, d-word, cum-play, breeding, rough sex, mirror sex, overstimulation, cursing, oral sex (f receiving) and just two horny mother fuckers <3
word count; 3.3k ish
✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿
The final whining note of “people” is ringing in your ears, the green and yellow lights dancing across your face. And your eyes stay trained on him, watching Matty take his final bows on b-stage, playing up for the crowd with every second he has left on stage. Eventually, he unseriously flops in the hole in the middle of the stage, despite you telling him a thousand times over to try and be more careful with himself.
Soon enough, he's near your side. His skin was glowing with a thin layer of sweat, and his black vest stuck to his body in a way that was making your head spin. Silently, you grab his hand as soon as he's within your reach, pulling him towards you and pressing your lips against his harshly. If Matty is shocked, he doesn't show it. Immediately sinking into your embrace and pushing his tongue in your mouth, humming happily when you start grasping at his curls and pulling.
A few wolf whistles from the crew later, and you finally wrenched yourself away from Matty, but his hand slides down to your ass and grips it firmly as his eyes trace your face. His chest heaved as his eyes danced around from feature to feature. Your darkened eyes and kiss-bitten lips were pulling his attention the most, and he's sure his looked the exact same. His lips were perhaps a little pinker with the stain of the malbec he'd been nursing all night.
You don't let him breathe another second before you drag him away to the green room, knowing everyone else would have cleared out already and be on their way to the hotel, desperate for a night away from the tour bus. But you cant be expected to wait to get back to the hotel before Matty could sink himself inside you, it was a fucking impossible expectation when he looked like that all night.
The door has just clicked shut behind you when Matty starts crowding you against it, cupping your head gently as he presses his desperate lips on yours. The kiss is all tongues and teeth, deliciously filthy and sticky, just the way you'd been envisioning it all night.
Needy hands are touching every inch of skin on the both of you, Matty’s hands groping your ass as yours scratch at his chest, trying to rip that vest off him so you could get a proper view of the tattoo you'd seen 1000 times before, but the way it was teasingly poking out the top of his vest all night was fucking torturous. His hands slide to your chest, grabbing handfuls of your tits and groaning appreciatively at the feeling of your hot skin against his.
The need for oxygen gets the better of you, but you also cant fuck against the door with Matty's bad knee, something you make fun of him for endlessly. So you both start wordlessly moving to the sofa in the middle of the room. You managed to rip your hands away from Matty for just a few seconds to drag your panties down your legs, smirking at Matty as you throw them aimlessly, pushing him down on the couch below you and havering over him powerfully.
You briefly think about sinking to your knees in front of him, letting him fuck your throat until he's filling your mouth with his release and throwing his head back, showing off his neck and making it beg to be covered in love bites. But you can’t go one more second without him inside you, and judging by how rushed Matty's hands are as he undoes his belt, he feels the same way.
Hungry eyes watch as Matty pulls his dick out of his trousers, his hand already pulling at his cock and hissing from the dry tug of his skin. You clamber onto his lap as quickly as your legs let you, sinking onto Matty with a sigh, throwing your head back and smiling at the ceiling. Matty's hands are on the hem of your shirt before you know it, pulling it over your head and gripping your bare tits with both his hands, calloused thumbs teasingly running over your nipples.
“Fuck, so pretty when you're wrapped around me, sweetheart. You gonna bounce on my dick? Yeah? Be a good bunny for me, ride daddy's cock.” you cant help but mewl at the nickname, a shiver coming up your spine at his words mixed with the roughness of his voice. It's then you realise thats the first thing hes said since getting off stage, every other second had been filled with desperate breaths and unspoken agreements.
Matty feels you tighten around him at the use of the nickname, smirking as you start slowly rising up and down on his cock, “you like that, baby? Being my little bunny?” you nod your head dumbly, already feeling your brain leaking out of your ears at the feeling of him pulsating inside of you, hitting that spot that no-one else can ever reach, not even you when you're alone.
“Give me a little show then, let me see my bunny bounce for me,” Matty sighs and leans back against the cushions behind him, groping your tits and watching you bounce on his dick. Every circle of your hips was making your mind foggy. Pink flush is growing over your skin, decorating your cheeks and chest, and your pulse is thrumming beneath your skin, becoming faster with every rise and fall.
But the burning in your thighs is undeniable, after standing for the whole show your legs were already weak, and Matty can see you shaking each time you fuck yourself on him. The determination in your eyes was clear, but so were your weakening muscles and the tears forming in your eyes. You also weren't moving fast enough of Matty, and he was having to fight the urge to jackhammer his hips into you, so he asked the question he could see you needed him to.
“Oh is my little bunny too tired, cant even fuck herself on daddy's cock, huh? Want me to use you like my cocksleeve baby, yeah? let daddy take over, angel.” A slack nod and a whimpered “yes” from you is all Matty needs to scoop you up bring you across the room and drop you on the makeup table that sits in the corner.
You think hes going to fuck you sitting down, but you know that won't satiate the growing fire in your abdomen. So you slide off the table and flip around, bending down and holding eye contact with Matty in the mirror in front of you as you do.
You watch his eye flick from your face in the reflection to your holes on show in front of him, and you know you've got him when his hands start sliding over the skin of your ass. Soon, hes moving down to pull the lips of your cunt apart, bending down to blow a cruel cold puff of air against your sticky skin.
“Fuck-” you whine, dropping your head against the hard oak of the table as Matty continues to study you. You fight the urge to close your legs, feeling vulnerable with his eyes trained on you, but you know he's seen you naked a thousand times before and in much more vulnerable positions than this.
“What was that? Gotta speak up for me, princess, let daddy know what my pretty bunny wants.” The nickname makes you tighten around nothing, and matty can't stop his finger from tracing your hole at the sight of you clenching.
The air is thick with an intoxicating mix of lust and dominance, matty knows hes got you wrapped around his little finger and you can feel how smug he is from the way his digits trace your skin, pressing his index finger against your clit and watching you squirm at the contact. 
“Fuck me, please. Need you inside me again, Daddy, been thinking about it all night.” Your skin prickles when you feel Matty standing up behind you, looking up at him in the mirror with hunger in your eyes. You briefly flick your vision down to his dick, staring at his erection and wishing he was inside you already.
A firm hand on your jaw drags your eyes back to Matty, and he forces you to keep your head straight on, holding his eyes as he sinks into you again, pressing even deeper than he had been before. Your jaw drops in his grip as you feel every inch of him entering you. Every second that passes makes your pulse speed up under your skin. 
Stretching you out has to be one of Matty's favourite feelings, and one of his favourite sights is also definitely watching your eyes roll into the back of your head as he works you open, still having to stretch ever so slightly to fit him inside you. The pressure is almost painful, but the spread is just enough to make your jaw shake and your cunt pulse, but not enough to hurt.
He watches his dick disappear into you with awe, thrusting slowly and gazing down as every inch starts slowly fucking you. Matty is so lost in watching himself sink inside you he almost misses your needy whimper, begging him to move. “Faster Daddy, please. Need it. Need you.” 
And who is he to deny his favourite girl?
Matty smirks at you in the mirror, already smug about how blissed out you look with him barely fucking you, he cant wait to watch you slowly fall apart in front of him with each pump of his hips. But Matty doesn't have the patience to make you beg for him tonight. He needs to feel you finish around him and watch the tears stream down your cheeks.
His hips start moving at an unrelenting pace, the sound of skin slapping skin and obnoxiously loud moans are the only things that fill the air, the muttered chattering of the crew being drowned out by every wrecked whine and groan that falls from both your lips. You arch your back further after Matty pushes in impossibly deeper, your eyes shooting open as you feel him fucking parts of you that made stars dance across your vision.
Matty's thrusts are frenzied and ruthless, and he watches with a sick smile as black mascara-filled tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Splinters of wood are digging into our fingers as you grip the edge of the desk, desperately trying to stop yourself from falling flat on your face at the pleasure firing in your every nerve.
But you're determined to watch Matty as he fucks you, his eyes flittering between yours and watching himself disappear into you, studying the way your wetness coats his dick.
“You like this baby, yeah? Fucking like rabbits? Practically fucking gagging for it the second I got off stage. Didnt even wait for me to clean up, no point when you're so. fucking. filthy.” Matty punctuates his sentence with deep thrusts, burying himself inside you almost as deep as he can and watching you cry around his cock, your tits bouncing with every reckless pump of his hips.
Frantic thrusts make it feel like your skin is going to bind together, making matty stuck inside you forever, and in this moment, that doesn't seem like too bad a fate. Especially with the way heat spreads deliciously under your skin, and the fire in your gut was ever-growing with every piston of Matty’s hips. You wouldn't be surprised if you were dripping onto the carpet below you, filthy squelching sounds permeating the air. 
You both know the other is getting close, the telltale sounds falling from your lips. Matty's movements are growing more unorganised with every second. He’s losing any composure he might have had, taunting you mercilessly as you gasp around his cock.
“You can fucking take it baby. Look at me. Feels so good doesn't it? Tell me how good it feels, angel.” Matty smirks as he watches your jaw open to talk, using that time to bury himself in you to the hilt and holding himself there, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and listening to you try to force words out of your chest.
Every time a word is just about to fall from your lips, Matty slides out ever so slightly and burrows himself deep in your guts. He almost wants to flip you over to watch the bludge he knows moving inside of you, but he can't deprive himself of being able to watch you in the mirror like this. Tits bounding and tears falling from your cheeks, a blissed-out smile on your lips.
“Feels so- fuck- so good, daddy. Can I cum? Please, I cant- cant hold on much longer” Matty wants to make you beg more, to have you sobbing and shaking as you try to keep yourself from falling over the edge, but he thinks if he feels you pulse around him one more time he’ll cum before you do, so he’s nodding his head quickly.
“C'mon, baby, cum for me. Let daddy pump his pretty bunny with his cum. Get you all full of me, just like you need.” a final gasp from you is all Matty hears before he feels you tighten around him, a vice-like grip around his cock as you cum. Your thighs shake with every thrust he makes, fucking you through your orgasm and making your head even hazier than it was.
Seconds later Matty is cumming too, sighing happily as he fills you up, muttering as he does. “you love it when I fuck my cum into you, yeah? Get you fucking pregnant, so full of me. You’d like that wouldn't you, such a slut. shit-”
After the aftershocks stop rattling through each of you, Matty pulls out, sighing and smirking as he watches his milky release start to fall from your hole. “Sit down on the desk for me, angel. gotta do a few more things for my girl,”
You nod as best you can, your whole body feeling weak after whatever the fuck just happened, spinning around and sitting on the desk. Your legs spread instantly, no thoughts of shame filling your head as Matty crouches down to watch his cum drip out of you. You snort as you flick your eyes down too, thinking about how typical man it is of Matty to do this, studying the white trails of his release that leave you.
Before you know it Matty’s tongue is on you, licking furiously and lapping at your cunt, moaning into you at the taste of you both filling his senses. You suck in a gasp of air, your voice cracking at the feeling of his hot tongue against your overstimulated clit.
“Fuck- shit- matty. Ohmygod” Your legs kick helplessly at the feeling, but you don't say your safe word so Matty knows he can keep fucking you with his tongue, laying it flat and licking a broad stripe up your cunt.
Matty mumbles against your skin as he moves his way down your cunt "Gotta clean up, yeah? Don't want anyone knowing you got fucked raw in public do you baby?" he shoots you a wink before pushing his tongue into you, lapping at the cum falling from inside you. He fucks his tongue inside you as his hands move to your waist, gripping you and holding your body in place as he buries his face between your legs.
The pain of overstimulation soon turns into pleasure, and Matty’s tortuous movements soon become mind-numbingly good, making the rubber band inside you tighten once again. But before you can fall over the edge, Matty is pulling away from you, blowing on your cunt cruelly just as he had earlier. 
He loves watching you get so close to the edge that you swear you can touch it and then pull away again. He watches the way your chest heaves and your nipples harden. The way your eyelashes flutter against your cheek and tears build on your lash line. He loves watching you suck in a breath and prepare to arch your back and let pleasure fill your body, but then sighing and whining when he stops touching you.
You are about to complain when Matty comes up from between your legs, smirking as he starts to speak, "C’mon, clean up your mess, bunny. Lick up daddy's cum for him, yeah?" your head tilts in confusion but Matty is manhandling you before you ask any questions, pulling you up on shaking legs and flipping you around again, making eye contact with you over your shoulder.
He pushes your head down and nods, flicking his eyes down to the few pearls of cum left on the hardwood desk. You catch on to what he means, bending at your waist and sticking your tongue out, lapping up the cum that dripped out of you before Matty got his mouth on you. You push back against Matty as you do, grinding your hips slightly against his half-hard cock.
Matty nods absentmindedly watching you in awe, but his dick stirring brings him back to earth. He doesn't think twice before grabbing his dick and sinking inside you once again, watching your eyes widen and revelling in the moan that comes from your open mouth.
As much as he loves edging you, Matty loves watching you fall over the edge more. He loves the way your face lights up, the smile that comes across your face, and how quickly it gets replaced with a dropped jaw and shaky breaths.
He adores the way your thighs tighten, shaking as your body is wracked with so many sensations.
He loves the feeling of you pulsing around him, and his favourite part is your babbled praise and thank you’s, desperately trying to tell him how good you're feeling, and how you know it's all because of him.
So he doesn't thrust this time, just uses his calloused finger to rub your clit until you cum around him again, and studies the way you do everything he fucking loves, down to the stuttered praise. 
“So good- ah! Thank you, Daddy, so good to me. Fuck-” You sigh happily at the feeling of cumming again, the same white shapes dancing across your vision and the electricity thrumming through you, head to toe. But exhaustion is getting the better of you, and you can't help but yawn just as Matty is pulling out of you.
“Oh I’m sorry, am I boring you?” Matty teases, pinching your hip teasingly at the sight of your yawning face in the mirror.
“Oh yeah, one of our more boring green room fucks, I think. Gotta step up your game Healy.” you tease back, giggling lightly at Matty's eyes rolling.
You stand up straight, stretching and flicking your eyes around the room, “right, where did my panties go again? I've got to stop throwing them” you sigh. Matty points to the left of you, and as soon as you turn, you can't help but giggle at the sight of your pink panties hanging off the corner of the mirror.
You're half tempted to leave them there and let the next people in here ask a thousand questions. But before you can, Matty is grabbing them, winking at you, and slipping them into his pocket.
“Ugh, what a boy,” you say cheekily.
Matty's hand swats your ass harshly as he corrects you, “What a man, I think you mean. I've got a tattoo and everything” he points at the ink on his chest, and you laugh lightly at his words.
“Sorry, what a man” you emphasise the last word, and Matty is pressing a kiss to your lips in thanks before you can finish giggling.
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fhtagn-and-tentacles · 10 months ago
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AWAKEN THE AGELESS
by Ari-Matti Toivonen
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wrestletotheground · 9 months ago
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manager!matty au anyone?
girlie having a secret affair with her boss yk the vibe 🤭
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cainveins · 15 days ago
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I want to listen to that two hour long matty healy interview but that would mean I'd have to listen to matty healy talk for two hours
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thegreatestfilmnevermade · 4 months ago
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The 1975 Concept Album (Detailed)
'A Sight For Sore Eyes' by The 1975
I did the 1975's job and came up with some (lots) of ideas for their sixth studio album. Coming (never) to stores December 2024!
Covers + Tracklist + Details about each song, story, genres, etc BELOW
Tracklist
The 1975
Bite The Bullet
Spilt Milk
Clíodna
Make Me Immortal
Stand Out (In A Crowd)
Please See My Lover
Crocodile Tears (Interlude)
Stop Making Sense!
FYI!
Best For Me
My Final Bow
Pistol (In My Hand)
Covers
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Would be shot somewhere in London or Manchester. Think (What's The Story?) by Oasis. I sketched other versions but couldn't make it look pretty for Tumblr :(
Ideally, it would be a guy in a black coat walking through a park, this kinda shot like the image below on the left. And the back of it would have the band in a park in the middle of the night, sitting on a bench with a street lamp right next to them. Healy would be leaning against the lamp, the rest of the band would sit on the bench, with one of them lying down in their laps. They face away from the camera. The shot would like the image below on the right.
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Story
This, in my deranged, delusional head, is a concept album that follows a single narrative from the perspective of a single person. 
It follows a rockstar who can't remember the day before, permanently in a state of amnesia, but felt entirely compelled to create, perform, and fall in and out of the obsession. He falls in love, obsesses over a muse, yearns to be remembered, to be immortalised. Over the course of the story, he explores his relationship to art, sex, politics, drugs, the ephemerality of life and music, and optimistic nihilism. 
The story is linear - with him finding meaning in the lack of meaning.
Track by track & inspiration
Playlist for direct reference:
Every song has specific inspirations! Most tracks have a specific inspiration from one of their (The 1975's) songs, and another one. Most are inspired by the sound not the lyrical content. Another note: Ideally, they would all transition perfectly into the next, but be able to stand well on their own as well.
The 1975
Song inspiration: The 1975 (Being Funny In A Foreign Language) by the 1975 + Thirteen by Big Star
Guitar driven, slow start. 1/2 bass/drums come in & choir. Build up, and transition perfectly into track two.
Set the scene, as usual. Re-Introduce, welcome back! We're in for a ride! Essentially a prologue.
2. Bite The Bullet (Note: This would be the single!)
Song inspiration: You First by Paramore + Sex by The 1975
Fresh, nostalgic rock sound.
Story starts...The protagonist is in a bad state. He doesn't want to perform, but thousands are waiting. He's resentful to everybody. He owes it only to himself to prove that he can do it.
NOTE: This would have a music video, in my head I picture Harris Dickinson, with like 5 minutes straight of dialogue directed by Noah Bombauch. Looks very A24. Each band member would make a cameo.
3. Spilt Milk (Yes, this is a reference to Milk)
Song inspiration: Antichrist by The 1975 + Scott Street by Phoebe Bridgers
Strings, drama, cinematic quality.
He can't remember who he is, he doesn't recognise anybody he loves. He awakens with no memory, and then meets her. He must create.
4. Clíodna (Reference to Celtic goddess of the sea, the Otherworld, passion and love, and deep beauty)
Song inspiration: Nothing Revealed / Everything Denied by The 1975 + Jackie and Wilson by Hozier
Gospel, bluesy, rock-funk, choir, piano.
He's confused by everything - except for her. He clings to her, he is desperate for a muse. Someone to idealise. He hates himself for it, his self-awareness getting the better of him, but not enough to stop himself from putting her on a pedestal.
5. Make Me Immortal (I don't know why this title, don't question it)
Song inspiration: All I Need To Hear by The 1975 + I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free by Nina Simone
Soul piano ballad, jazz, gospel, blues.
He must compose, he must write. He must be an artist. He starts expressing his deep seated need to be remembered, despite his own lack of memory. He wants to be heard in an endless crowd and be understood. He faces his mortality, his mighty imagination, and even considers religion. Things get really political and confusing.
6. Stand Out (In A Crowd) (Every song title from here on onward is totally random)
Song inspiration: Playing On My Mind by The 1975 + Virgin Veins by Coma Cinema + Landslide by Fleetwood Mac
Stripped back, calm, vulnerable, acoustic.
Away from the crowd, he returns to his muse. His muse doesn't recognise him anymore, but he hasn't changed - she has. He is stuck permanently, forgetting himself, the world, not quite growing up. Who is he without her? Who is he?
7. Please See My Lover
Song inspiration: Please Send Me Someone To Love by Fiona Apple + Buddy's Rendevouz by Father John Misty and Lana Del Rey
Jazz ballad, blues, strings.
She's gone. He turns to alcohol and dreams of memories that never happened. if he can't have her, he'll have materials, substance, and he will be remembered. Commentary on people's dependency on materials and lack of connections.
8. Crocodile Tears (Interlude)
Song inspiration: When I'm On My Own You Are On My Mind by Labi Siffre + Interlude: I'm Not Angry Anymore by Paramore + That Funny Feeling (Cover) by Phoebe Bridgers
Acoustic interlude, fast-paced guitar driven, end with quiet strings and real external audio (of family, friends, news, etc)
Observations of the world, questioning his place as an artist in the grand scheme of things. Does this even matter? He's trying to move on from her. He sees the hope in people, humanity, but where is it in him? Is art selfish? He doesn't know. He knows we don't know either.
9. Stop Making Sense! (In reference to The Talking Heads)
Song inspiration: Can't Behave by Courtney Jaye + Murder On The Dance Floor (triple j Cover) by Royel Otis + Spiderwebs by No Doubt + Fisrt Date by blink-182 + Me & You Together Song by The 1975
90s-2000s pop-rock, country inspired blues rock
Alright, so there's hope. But right now, he's pissed and wants to dance. No more muse, falling out with his family, friends and he hates every song he writes - the star has turned to further substance abuse to cope. It's cool, though. Doesn't this guitar riff sound sick?
10. FYI!
Song inspiration: Get It Right The First Time by Billy Joel + The Louvre by Lorde + UGH! by The 1975
Funk, synth-pop (hints of disco/electro), new wave (rock)
Drugs and alcohol are epic! Who cares he can't perform for a crowd (or in bed??) anymore! Bigger things to worry about. He feels insanely unloveable in a world of mass communication. Anyway, life sucks, but at least materials are cool. Capitalism doesn't suck all the time. The government has failed us and we've become desensitised, ignorant pricks. Next club?
11. Best For Me
Song inspirations: Real Love Baby by Father John Misty + Sincerity Is Scary by The 1975 + Tired of Being Alone by Al Green
R&B, neo-soul, gospel choir, jazz ballad.
He's wondering how she's doing. He can't remember how it all went down. He just remembers the feeling. He's starting to think adulthood is getting worse - drugs and aging are making it harder to make new friends. Was it always this hard making friends? He starts to reminisce of home, childhood friends. Do they remember him? Do they think of him when they see his name? Does he remember them?
12. My Final Bow (I hate this title so much)
Song inspiration: Movin' On Up by Primal Scream + About You by The 1975 + ARE WE SITLL FRIENDS? by Tyler, The Creator
Britpop, shoegaze, cinematic, pop-rock ballad.
On stage, vulnerable. This might be the only place he feels truly loved. No matter how much he forgets, he will never forget the feeling, the pure thrill, of performance. He pleads to the crowd to love him forever. Immortalise him. He reveals he has been hiding a new muse (he doesn't remember her), he won't make the same mistake (he doesn't know what it was).
13. Pistol (In My Hand) 
Song inspiration: Lostmyhead by The 1975 + I Always Wanna Die (Sometimes) by The 1975 + Babe I'm Gonna Leave You - Led Zeppelin
Britpop power ballad, cinematic, hard-rock, slow buiild.
He's back where he started - not wanting to perform. He's crashing from the intense substance abuse. He wants to remember. He can't remember how it feels to be hugged anymore. This time he doesn't bite the bullet, and doesn't go out. He wants to call his dad.
Ends on a voicemail to his dad because he isn’t remembered.
END OF ALBUM.
Anyway, this was all for funsies. I'm excited for whatever album they'll release next, I am really pulling and praying for a bluesy/rock album. Get religious and political, have some epic references to mythology even, you know? Whatever they do, whether it's another 80s synth party, or electro ambience, or heavy metal, I'm sure they'll smash it out of the park.
I have put way too much time into this so: Logging out!
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Chatting with friends about the new pics Patty posted today and @its-a-soft-science came up with this genius interpretation of them.
Matty's sitting in each of the four chairs, each representing one member of the band, and sort of doing impressions of all of them. Let me demonstrate:
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this is Matty (duh)
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this is George, who these days is very cool and detached-looking and I feel like Matty's just missing those stupid yellow sunglasses to complete the picture
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this is Ross, and specifically Ross while "sitting and necking a beer and thinking about kindness and football during a song with no bass" (not my words, but they're too good not to include)
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and this is Hann, constantly facepalming at Matty's shenanigans and bullying and cancellations because he is, in fact, the dad of the band.
This is a genius concept, and my friends are also geniuses ✨
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the1975attheirverybest · 1 year ago
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ohmygod blurb this pleeaaseeee https://twitter.com/strghtoutamag/status/1684421064888307712?s=46&t=xaBoZPI0h5lkCj6vqL_9cg
Ok, even though requests are closed. I'm a people pleaser and don't know how to set boundaries, so here you go. it's a bit short.
warnings: none
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"Hey baby?" Matty settled into the makeshift seat he'd assumed on the toilet cover, leaning his back against the cold bathroom wall and smiling up at her as she scoured her makeup bag in front of the mirror.
"mhm." she mumbled an acknowledgement of his presence, keeping her eyes on her mascara tubes and concealer bottles.
"you're pretty." he chirped, giggling to himself.
"Thanks, Matty." she looked down at the products she'd assembled to make sure she had everything: primer, foundation, concealer, eyebrow pencil, eyeshadow palettes, highlighter and blush combo, lip liner and lipstick, and, of course, mascara.
"No, I mean, you're pretty. You don't need- all THAT" he crossed his legs and pointed to her assembly line. "don't need makeup at all."
she turned to face him, cracking a smile as soon as their eyes met, and blowing him a kiss before turning back to the mirror again.
"I know I don't. I'm stunning. I just do it cuz I like it, not cuz I wanna be pretty."
Matty clapped dramatically shouting out praise and calling her a queen. She chuckled, shaking her head as his applause echoed around the bathroom.
"What's all this, anyway?" he asked as the noise that he'd caused died down.
"You've worn makeup before! You know how it is."
"I usually just put on a bit of color on my eyelids, some lipstick, and called it a day. You....look like you're discovering a new chemical element.... for example, what's that invisible shit that you're putting on right now? I never did that."
It was hard for her not to laugh and pause her precise application and delicate brush work every time Matty spoke. "That's a primer. you put it on before your makeup so that it stays on."
Matty took in her explanation, mulling it over in silence for a moment. She thought she'd satisfied his curiosity, but he spoke again. "like pre-treating a canvas before painting?"
"exactly."
" is that why i used to look like someone had punched me in the eye by the end of every gig back when I wore makeup?"
"sure...let's go with that explanation." she gave him a playful smile through their reflections in the mirror.
"what step are you on now?" he asked, his eyes studying her movements with the reverence of a child looking up at their parents. It was endearing how invested her was.
"Why don't you come over here. Wanna try this stuff? I could do your face..."
"really?" to her surprise, Matty was on his feet instantly.
A willing subject at first, Matty giggled and squirmed whenever her makeup brushes "tickled" his face. It definitely doesn't take her that long to do her own face.
"Alright, all done. you can look in the mirror now." she clasped her hands together, proud of her inspired work. "do you like it?"
"...wow." Matty's lips rounded as he studied himself in the mirror. "I look- I'm glowing. Fuck and the way you made those colors look like they blend together- it's- i'm gorgeous." He turned his face to one side then the other, admiring himself from all angles, then messing with his hair a bit.
"Okay, just let me take a picture of you first, before you wash it off."
He frowned, turning to look at her as she pulled out her phone.
"wash it off? why would I wash it off? after allll that work you put into it-"
"what, you're gonna be seen in public with a full face of makeup on?"
"it's called glam" he made a gesture of flipping his hair. "and, yeah, why the fuck not?"
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grocerystorelist · 11 months ago
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thinking about confessional girl starting to go to sunday mass and getting on her knees in front of priest matty to receive communion and him impassively putting the wafer on her tongue and it riling her up soooo bad because he has just ignored her since that night. she’s giving him her best fuck me eyes and staring up at him through her lashes and he is just standing there like a little bitch but inside he is trying so hard not to stick his fingers in her mouth and press down on her tongue and make her suck them
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oh-bonerline · 1 year ago
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Matty: 'Imagine yourself with a little more otter energy, without the presence of doubt, worry, or skepticism.' Those are your three defining characteristics, I think: Doubt, worry, and skepticism. Ross: You're right. That is pretty much what I've got to look forward to.
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stood-onthecliffside · 1 year ago
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taylor showing that the narrator (her and not her at once) shifted from the lover house in the eras tour is just a pretty concept in hindsight,, (and a very midnights concept according to me) yes love (self or platonic or romantic or family) changes it never moves in a tangent direction as you expect it,, sometimes moving away from that love into a bigger or a smaller 'house' is exactly what you need and you can't fight it,,, it's like some appreciate big gestures while others small (it is all about finding the balance very mirrorball if you must). the thing is that love and the person who stores this love grow and change everyday- it doesn't make them a hero or villain it simply makes them human.
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fhtagn-and-tentacles · 9 months ago
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THE THURSANOTH
by Ari-Matti Toivonen
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arainesque · 1 month ago
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in trust, i let you feel
authors note:
RAMBLES. this is the definition of a ramble. all in one, just out there, i've barely read it through, just posting for the person who may want it. ???? My new take on a writers-block. Tumblr allows rambles doesn't it. (Fluffy and mildly dramatic.)
word count: 895
Matty knew it was bad, he did. He didn’t need the constant nudges of reminder as if he’d slip up if didn’t remember. As if people thought he didn’t know. As much as he wished he wasn’t part of the collective conscious of the world, he was. He knew, and he was aware. And they weren’t even an entity in the first place, really, his addiction and his devotion. They were on two completely different planes, entirely separated. He couldn’t forget it no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t stop, either. Because they weren’t the same and his brain wasn’t a simple mechanism. The human brain just isn’t.
Multiple things can be true at once, no matter how contradictory it seems. No matter how frustrating the notion is.
It’s sorted through so many algorithms that you get dizzy with it. Left to rely on the feeling instead of the thought. Because it becomes intrinsic at some point. The beauty of biology.
And he loves George.
And he loves the drugs.
It isn’t one or the other. Really.
How can you decide when there’s an infinite amount of opportunities. An infinite amount of right decisions. Because right isn’t objective, and everything is stupid.
But he loves George.
Oh, he loves George.
His heart wouldn’t forget how to beat around him if he didn’t.
It wouldn’t turn into this stupid, fragile, trembling thing inside of his chest. Stuttering and racing at the sound of his voice. Stopping completely at the mere sight of his dark eyes, just drinking them in as if in some sort of trance. Yet, he’d never been more thankful to be sober.
The more you know, the more you know that you know nothing.
But George’s chest is so smooth beneath the palm of his hand, and if nothing matters then how can that matter so much. It all matters just that bit too much.
“Here.” George says, pressing Matty’s hand firmer to his sternum. “It’s not beating right.”
It isn’t. It’s too quick, like the fluttering of a hummingbird's wings beneath Matty’s hand. But it’s George and it’s alive. A rabbit's heart. Rhythmical and forceful and fast.
“It’s perfect.” Matty found himself whispering against the skin of George’s chest, pushing his hand down even firmer just to feel the responding skip in the otherwise steady tempo. Causing chaos. Arrhythmia.
George let him. Unbelievably.
“It can’t behave around you.” George spoke, his voice lacing the air in a dreamlike texture that shouldn’t have been of this world, but it was, and it’s beautiful. George’s hand pressed his own even closer to his chest. The next inhale was deep and crisp beneath Matty’s ear. “It’s always been sensitive to you.”
Matty closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on each point where their bodies were connected, touching. His leg slung over George’s hip, his hipbone grazing George’s abdomen and the sheer weight of George’s hand on top of his own. Letting him feel things he couldn’t explain with words.
Words weren’t ever enough, were they?
“Mine too.” Matty whispered, sober, vulnerable.
“It doesn’t like being listened to.” George nearly-whispered. A quiet confession. The ghost of a breath making the curls on top of Matty’s head move just a little bit. Just enough for a crazy person to notice, and he noticed.
A heartbeat. Two. Speeding up. A staccato.
“I know.” Matty said, shifting a little so that the violent sloshing sounds of George’s blood rushing through the valves of his heart softened a little, so his ear landed a little closer to the bottom of his clavicle. “Why do you let me?”
It stuttered beneath Matty’s ear, beating even quicker. Sickly. If he didn’t know.
“It loves you.”
Thundering. Matty getting breathless along with the pace of it.
“Do you?” Matty questioned, slinging his leg just that bit further over George’s hip. Letting his lips graze over that one mole on his chest.
“Yes.” No room for objections in the conviction of his voice. “You know I do.”
“Yeah.” Matty said, against the ever-smooth skin of George’s chest. Against the heartbeat steadily pushing up against his sternum, threatening his line of sight. The proof of life he couldn’t stop himself from marveling at. The fundamental pace of the person he knew and loved and needed. The pace he had full control of no matter if he wanted to or not. But he did, want to. “I love you.”
George’s heart trembled beneath his palm, against the shell of his ear. Because he cared and the words did hit him where they needed to. Matty was aware of that. He never had to doubt George’s interpretations of his utterances. Never had to doubt George’s feelings for him, really. Not when his pulse had always stuttered nervously around him.
Mirroring his own.
“I love you.”
Not I love you more. I love you differently.
Loving drugs and loving George weren’t the same.
George loved him back.
George was so, so much better.
With his beating (pounding) heart. So obviously affected and there. Fluttery and fragile and vulnerable. A heart he trusted Matty with. Something to give him purpose.
Maybe it wasn’t so difficult at all. Anything. 
Maybe it was just George’s life beneath the palm of his hand.
His "I love you." Against the top of his head.
Maybe just his skin against his own.
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justanamesstuff · 11 months ago
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i’m glad he’s back to shitposting. it’s like a warm hug
It is!!! The world is better when Matty posts GMG! It’s like a little reassurance that the man we love is still there ❤️
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sapphic--kiwi · 2 years ago
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realized i haven’t posted my 15-year old gus and mattholomule designs here so here they are 💙🤎
also designed matt a palisman, Gremlin ❤️
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