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god-has-entered-my-body · 9 months ago

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What time you coming out? - M.H x Reader // pt.1

A/N: Lenas writer debut??? Omg??? This has a bunch of references to fics like the cellophane house (written by the lovely @vinylandcoffeecollection, srsly check out their work!). It's a bit angsty? Not really but angst will come this is a chaptered fic. Based off fallingforyou, hence the title. Thank you @beforeyougo-turnthebiglightoff for beta reading and putting up with me xx

wc: 11k

part two

February, 2008

“I'm not sure we should be doing this, neither of us is a professional hairdresser in any capacity”

Mötley Crüe’s ‘Public Enemy #1’ blares through the small speaker set on top of the toilet lid, the music reverberating off the bathroom's tiled walls. Matty attempts to brush the bleach onto your hair, narrowly missing your eyebrow for what felt like the sixth time. You'd prefer to not come out of this situation looking like 90s madonna if you could help it.

“Could you maybe not get the stuff on my face? I'm not sure I'd look as amazing as I do with bleached brows,” you say, flicking Mattys hand away from your hair, straightening your posture on top of the sink. Your elbow accidently knocks into the faucet and you curse out loud.

“You're right love, you'd look well hideous without brows” Matty retorts, laughing in your face. He's right, doesn't mean he has to say it.

“At least I have any sort of eyebrows, I'd get yours filled in if I was you.” Now it's your turn to laugh at him, his jaw hitting the floor at your comment. He clutches his chest with his hand, bending over for dramatic effect as if to say: “You wound me”. You fall into each other's arms, fighting over the ipod once again.

The song changes, and Matty resumes his attempts at bleaching your hair properly, failing once again. It had been a stupid, stoned impulse decision to buy the bleach at all. The local drugstore sold it for cheap, and you had some pocket change on you. Matty wanted you to buy the red dye, and you dismissed him immediately, because even he knew you'd look absolutely terrible as a redhead.

You hum along softly to David Bowie's “Suffragette City”. Bowie was your Idol. The song reminds you of him. Of Matty. It reminds you of when you first met.

—------------------------------------------------------

You were 15, pacing the street late at night, your boyfriend was blowing up your phone. Insincere apologies and “i love you”’s filled your screen. 4 missed calls. Tears were streaming down your face, making you not quite able to see straight.

The song playing, was blaring in your headphones, almost deafening. The song didn't fit at all to your current situation, but that didn't bother you.

It wasn't long before you reached a bus stop, sitting down. You didn't even know where you were.

Suddenly, like it was out of your control, you let out broken sobs, no longer silently crying. How fucking embarrassing.

You're not sure how long you’d been sitting there, in the dark, shivering in the cruel November weather.

You hadn't even noticed the person walking up to you.

He’d positioned himself in front of you, twisting his neck to get a look underneath your hood.

“You alright?” his voice sounded soft, concerned even. Through muffled sobs, you managed to look up at him.

He had a thick, fluffy jacket on. Oddly feminine for bloke, and you were pretty sure it was a women's coat. It basically swallowed him whole. You almost laughed at the sight. It almost made you forget about the night's events.

You’d had yet another fight with your boyfriend, Phillip. The two of you fought a lot, but never like this. Sure, he’d said some hurtful things, things you maybe shouldn't have forgiven as quickly as you did, but he had never, ever, gotten violent with you. Until tonight.

You'd barely registered it when it happened, your brain not properly processing his actions. In the midst of his screaming, he raised his hand. Raised. his. hand.

It came down with a crash against your left cheek, the sound echoing through the house. Because he did, in fact, have his own flat. Because 24 year olds usually have that.

Everything hit you at once. You'd managed to pick yourself up off the ground at a speed which would have given even world record holders a run for their money. You didn't bother grabbing anything else, you just needed to get out, now.

You could faintly hear his voice calling out from behind you, begging you to please, please come back. And what? Let him put his hands on you again? No way. A rare moment of clarity.

Fucking cunt

You’re brought back to reality by the sound of the stranger's voice.

“I’m Matty.” he offered his hand, and you shook it. “What're you doing out here in the cold? Its fuckin’ freezing.” He's right, it was cold. It hadn't occurred to you to take your coat with you.

You stuttered out a pathetic response of your name, barely making eye contact with him. A few beats pass before Matty starts ruffling around in his coat pockets. Raising your eyebrows, you watch him.

You can hear the faint sound of keys in his right pocket, and it's not long before he pulls out a joint from his left. It looks crumpled and old, like it had been there for a while.

“Spliff? It looks like you need it more than me.” He chuckles, and it somehow makes you feel better. He makes a move to sit next to you, and you twitch slightly when his shoulder touches yours. The bench is quite narrow, so you know it's not on purpose. It doesn't bother you quite as much as it should, given he is a stranger.

He takes out his lighter. It looks old and used, the black plastic chipping off around the top. It looks like it's a miracle it even works. You can see white writing along the side of it. M.H. Initials? His initials? Matty H something.

He starts burning the tip. Rotating the joint to get an even burn, you watch his movements closely, taking in some of his features.

His hair was curly but frizzy, you could tell he didn't pay it much mind. His features seemed soft, almost feminine. He was clean shaven, his pale skin a stark contrast to the dark brown of his hair.

Matty lets you take the first drag, stating “The first hit’s the best, and I've always been a gentleman”, flashing a grin your way. That made you laugh. You take a drag, letting the warm feeling spread through your body.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked timidly, his voice lowering.

“Absolutely not.” You mutter, looking him straight in the eyes for what seems like the first time that night. A smile.

—-------------------------------------------------------

“D’you think I'd look good as a blonde? I feel like I'd smash it,” Matty says, inspecting his hair in the mirror behind you. He has gorgeous locks, and you're constantly telling him to try and take care of them, he just doesn't listen. You study his features before giving him an answer.

“Maybe. Either that or you'd look like a bad hooker,” Matty gasps, shoving your shoulder in protest. The movement makes your elbow bang against the faucet again, but you ignore the pain this time

“I'll let you know i'd make an amazing hooker, thanks very much,” He proclaims quite loudly, making the both of you burst into a laughing fit.

You take the brush from Matty, twirling in your hand. George had taught you how to do that. An idea pops into your head.

“We could give you a few blonde highlights, just to try it out. There's no need for you to go full Elle Woods immediately” A giggle escapes your lips, picturing Matty with long, blonde hair. That’d be a sight.

“Let's do it, right now,” he breathes, visibly excited.

“Really? Adam’d take the absolute piss out of you, you know.” Matty rolls his eyes obnoxiously before he speaks. “Well then let Adam hold on to his toxic ideas of masculinity, I need a change.” This piques your interest. Matty? Need a change? Weird.

“What, did some bird break your heart this time? That's new, even for you Matthew,”

You can see him visibly cringe at your use of his full name. You know he hates it, and that is exactly why you do it. Getting a rise out of him is your favorite pastime.

“Switch with me then,” you say, and he obliges, letting you hop off the counter. You mix up a new batch of bleach and part off his hair into small sections. Little pink hair bands hold his curls in place. You shoot him a look and he nods, giving you the go-ahead. The bleach goes on smoothly, your practiced hand much less prone to mistakes than Mattys.

It doesn't take long before you're both sitting on your bed with foils in your hair. You manage to snap a picture of Matty on your polaroid camera. The light reflects off the foils, distorting the picture slightly. Matty demands to see it, but you decide to keep it for yourself. Can't get everything you want.

It's Mattys' turn on the music.

You've decided on a turn system for music when you're together, to avoid the gnarly fights you used to have over who gets to control the ipod.

He picks the latest Deftones album. It's not really your taste, and you tell him as much.

“S’not my fault your music taste consists of pop trash. Get well soon”, now it's your turn to shove him, and he almost falls off the bed. Your fights over music happened frequently. He insisted on listening to real music, while you couldn't care less if it sounded good.

The timer dings and you both get up to wash your hair in the sink. Water splashes everywhere, absolutely soaking the bathroom. You don't care. It's just water.

Towels litter the bathroom floor, soaking up the mess. Matty helps you dry your hair after you promise to help with his. The warm air feels nice on your neck.

“I like it, it makes me look camp,” Matty states, admiring himself in the mirror. Of course he'd say something like that.

“You look great, now get dressed, I've messaged Hann. He's picking us up at half 11”

Adam was one of your best mates, and the only one who had a car. You and Matty were still in school, along with George, another one of your friends. Adam and Ross shared a flat on the outskirts of the city. Adam's mother had gifted him a car for his 18th birthday last year. A bright red Kia. Bumper stickers littered the back, your favorite reading ‘Vehicle of legends”

Matty had borrowed one of your tops, specifically, a mesh top you'd gotten from Hollister a few weeks prior. It was adorned with a black tank top underneath, paired with the black skinny jeans you're convinced have fused with his legs at this point.

His hair had dried, dark curls now in contrast with blonde streaks. They framed his face. He looked good.

You’d gone for a more colorful ensemble, opting for baggy jeans instead of skinny ones. The bottom had already been well ripped up from years of dragging them on the ground. You paired said jeans with a wine-red off the shoulder jumper, the black strap of your bralette peaking out. You’d always loved that color. It reminded you of your favorite flowers, red roses.

The window closed softly, and you silently thanked God you lived on the first floor. Adam was already parked down the road from your house, impatiently waiting for the two of you. The radio was playing as you got in. Matty immediately started going on about how pop music has ruined the music scene and how it was all 'soulless, meaningless droning' and 'had no feeling anymore'. He always did this, and you'd learned to tune it out by then.

The drive was short, and you arrived at your destination not long after you’d set off. The air smelled like water and wet pavement. It had been pissing down earlier in the day.

‘The spot’ was an abandoned paper factory, affectionately renamed “Caroline's house” for any eavesdropping parents.

Carolines had been abandoned for well over 5 years before you started hanging out there, not many knew about it.

The three of you had already made your way through the back entrance. The front had been blocked off years ago, a futile attempt at keeping kids out. There was one specific room you always went to, and that was the office. It had a huge terrace with an amazing view of the city below. The glowing lights made you feel small and irrelevant in the vastness of the world.

The night was bright under the full moon, making it easy to see outside. Adam always brought an emergency flashlight with him when you went to Carolines. He was the voice of reason in the midst of the chaos. The responsible one. He always made sure everyone got home safe, talked your way out of situations with coppers on multiple occasions, and knew when to tell the bartender to switch drinks to water or juice. You’d always thank him the morning after.

“What even is your shirt, mate,” Adam asked with a grin on his face. He loved to take the piss out of Matty for his camp-ness. No harm no foul, Matty would do the exact same to him when the opportunity presented itself. Eyeing him up and down, he shook his head and went back to picking at his nails.

“She let me borrow it for tonight. Looks good, yeah?” Matty shoots back.

“Yeah sure, that and those white streaks in your hair make you look like a proper girl, you know”

You have to laugh at his statement, because it does ring true. From a certain distance, anyone could mistake Matty for a woman.

“You wish I was a girl, it’d make you feel less guilty about your sex fantasies, innit?” Matty cackles at his own words. Adam chucks a lighter at him, and misses. It instead bounces off the railing of the terrace and clatters down onto the ground somewhere behind you.

That was your cue to take out the small baggy from the pocket of your jeans. Going to look for the lighter Adam had just thrown, you turn around to see he’d already snatched your papes and weed, and started to roll a spliff.

“Oh come on, I look away for a second and you steal my weed. What, are you too broke to buy your own?” You huffed, sitting down on the floor next to him.

“Girls don't roll their own spliffs. You should know that by now, love” he said with a wink.

Cue eye roll.

“Oh thank you so much, what would I ever do without you, Hann? Fuck off.” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. This was never a display of chivalry, it was simply Adams' way of trying to get under your skin. Your stubborn self wouldn't let him, of course. Flashing him an award winning smile, you lay back on your elbows and eye him as he rolls your joint for you.

Matty was preoccupied with gathering enough cardboard so he could sit on the floor comfortably. The three of you couldn't be arsed bringing in furniture from the office, so you were left with the cold, unforgiving concrete floor of the terrace to sit on.

The minutes ticked by and Adam took his sweet time, presenting the spliff with a look of pride. You reach for it, seeing as you already had the lighter in your hand. Instead of handing it to you. Adam shakes his head.

“Girls dont light their own spliffs, either” You scoff at that, though deciding against smacking him upside the head. You hand him the lighter.

Mattys giggles can be faintly heard over your bickering, and Adam finally lights up. The distinct earthy smell fills up the air around you. They both let you have the first drag, stating something along the lines of “Ladies first” another eye roll.

“Fucking wankers”, you mutter under your breath, and finally, you inhale. It hits you almost immediately, a soft, fuzzy feeling that reverberates through your veins into every inch of your body. The two of them let out a laugh at your expression, utterly euphoric.

Adam takes the next drag, hitting him just as hard as it did you. He leans against the glass sliding door, letting his eyes droop closed.

“Fucking hell, this is some strong weed.” He lets out a rough cough, “Where’d you even get it from?”

“Oh y’know, just some guy. Same as always I s’pose,”

Matty spoke “What, d’you shag him or something? No one just gives out this type of premium stuff on a whim,”

This makes you chuck the grinder at him. It hits him square in the chest. You hum contentedly, grinning at him in amusement when he doubles over in pain. You bicker back and forth, calling each other names. Adam passes the spliff back to you, and you take another hit.

Time passes slowly. The clouds slowly reveal more and more of the full moon. It is quite beautiful tonight, you notice.

Adam produces a bottle of tequila from his ‘gay-ass tote bag’ as Ross calls it. You take turns taking swigs straight from the bottle, Matty managing to spill some onto his mesh top, making quite literally everything reek of alcohol.

You felt good. The high mixed with the healthy amount of tequila made you feel like you were floating. You could tell Matty was just as hammered as you, seeing as he was now straddling Adams lap, trying to kiss him.

After multiple attempts at getting him off, Matty stood up on his own, stating that he didn't want Hann to pop a boner au cause de his womanly features.

The three of you laugh and laugh until you finish the spliff. You’d never had a good tolerance for anything, whether it be weed or alcohol. You weren't particularly small, it just always hit you way harder than Adam or Ross. Even Matty managed to pull himself together when the situation called for it. You, however, were stumbling and tripping over your feet the entire walk home. It had been pissing down the entire morning. Puddles littered the streets, not an ideal weather for someone who was too wasted to even have any sort of depth perception.

Adam had to leave suddenly, picking up a last minute shift at the shop he worked at. It was in the opposite direction of where you came from, leaving you and Matty to walk home.

It wasn't a long walk, 30 odd minutes or so. It was made significantly longer by your inability to walk in a straight line to save your life. Echoing laughs filled the streets as Matty helped you trudge along. Your pants dragged on the floor as usual, which meant they were also dragging through the numerous puddles, soaking them.

You stop suddenly, looking down and pouting at the darkened material of your pants. For some inexplicable reason, this made you stomp your feet like a child. Matty broke out in uncontrollable laughter, tears forming in his eyes. You were actually acting like a child.

“I don't know why you insist on wearing those insanely baggy pants. Look at me! My pants don't get wet AND my ass looks phenomenal in skinny jeans” He twirls around you, making you feel slightly dizzy.

“Oh fuck off!! Not everyone is an attention slag like you, have some decency for once in your life!” You retort, shoving him out of your line of sight. Due to your state, Matty quickly catches up to you.

The steps of your house come quicker than expected. Both of you make your way to the east side of the first floor, where your bedroom window remains slightly ajar. You'd wedged an old shirt between it to keep it from closing all the way. You'd gotten sneaking out down to an art, always knowing when, where and how. Your mother had caught you once. It was your first time. You knew not to make those same mistakes again.

Matty helped you hop onto the windows ledge, his hands grabbing at your sides. While he looked frail, Matty was actually quite strong, lifting you up without breaking a sweat.

You're sitting on the edge, slightly taller than him now. Peering down, you reach your arms out. The two of you hugged tightly, whispering quiet “goodnight”s and “sleep well”s. Saying goodbye after a night out often felt strangely melancholic, you never wanted the other to leave.

You've been attached at the hip since that night. He’d convinced you to break up with Phillip, stating he was a bastard who shouldn't be allowed near women ever again.

Matty went on to introduce you to his mates after you’d found out you went to the same highschool. That was nearly 3 years ago now.

Late nights often make you wonder what would have happened if you hadn't gone to that specific bus stop and met Matty. If he had ignored your crying instead of offering you weed and sitting down next to you. He’d always been charming, like a magnet, he attracted everyone around him. Sure, he was a bit pretentious at times, but everyone has their faults.

You roll over and try to sleep, slowly coming down from your high. You made a mental note to take it easy next time, maybe pace yourself. It was hard to know your limits when it came to substances, and Matty was the same way. Adam was the ever responsible one, never too drunk or high, always the parent. You were grateful for him, knowing what situations you'd be stuck in if Adam had not been there to smooth things over.

The tiredness hits you in waves. Glancing at the clock left of your desk, it read 3:26 am. Fuck. You try to ignore the fact that you had to be up in about 4 hours. You close your eyes, welcoming the rest.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

A harsh knocking sounded from the direction of your window, scaring the shit out of you. You bolt up, pissed at the disturbance. Turning to face the window, and are met with a familiar grin. Matty.

It takes all of 5 seconds of him being in your room before you start cursing at him for waking you up like that. He simply shrugs his shoulders and sits in his designated chair. A maroon sofa chair in the corner in front of your bed. It even has M.H carved into the wood, because Matty had some sort of fetish for carving his initials into things. A sign of ownership? It made you wonder.

Shuffling around the room, you kick your still wet jeans off into the corner, instead picking up a denim skirt. You’d wanted to wear that same red top to school, but seeing as you had fallen asleep wearing it, you chucked it into the same corner as the pants.

A pink baby tee caught your eye from the chair Matty was sitting in. You silently point at it and he passes it to you. This isn't the first time you've changed in front of him. It didn't happen often, but what was the point of kicking him out? It's not like he was actively staring anyway.

After quickly changing, you go to put on some makeup. Makeup made you feel pretty, pretty enough to go outside. The only person who sees your bare face regularly is Matty. Maybe George. You didn't go anywhere without it.

You can feel Matty looking at you from the corner of your eye. Raising your eyebrows at him, you ask him what he's staring at.

“D’you reckon i can try some of that?” he gestures vaguely at the eyeshadow brush in your hand “I think i’d look class with my new highlights.” he twirls his hair around his finger, giving you a look.

You look at him skeptically, before breaking out into a smile. Matty smiles back. It's not long before he’s sat in front of you, wincing whenever the brush makes contact with his eyelid. You tell him hes just not used to it, and to just stay still, for fucks sake.

Once you're done, you take a step back to admire your work. You have to admit, he looks good. Really good. His eyes were lined with a dark purple shadow, making them appear slightly bigger. He takes his fingers, slightly smudging the out corners, giving him a catty look.

“I think you might even look even better than me,” you say, looking him up and down. This is one of those rare moments where you can't read Mattys' expression at all. Finally, he opens his mouth

“No one could look better than you, trust me,”

A beat of silence before he speaks again

“I do look ravishing though, d’you reckon Adam'll like this more than the highlights?” He always manages to make himself laugh. Then in typical Matty fashion, he pulls out a beat up looking joint from the pocket of his too tight jeans.

“Fancy a spliff?”

“Matty, for christ's sake, we have school in about an hour, and you want to smoke now?”

“It's the only true way to get through Mr. Henderson's maths class, you know it'll be unbearable if we don't.” translation: please smoke with me. He gives you a look, because you know he's right.

It was too late to protest. He’d already made his way to open your window, knowing how much you hate stinking up your room.

An exasperated sigh leaves your lips, and you find your place next to him.

The wind and rain had calmed down, so Matty had no difficulty lighting it. The smell filled your senses, almost overwhelming you. You were thankful for the fresh air.

He placed the spliff between your lips, watching you intently as you inhaled. Your orange lip gloss had rubbed off the filter, and transferred onto his lips. The weed wasnt as strong as last nights, but still, the sight of Mattys glossed lips made you break out into a fit of giggles. Time seemed irrelevant up until the point you had to run to catch your bus. Sweaty and out of breath, you sat down in your usual spot.

You can hear comments and insults being thrown at Matty from the back of the bus, but neither of you paid much mind. Matty was high as a kite, and too loopy (hungover) from the previous night to offer up one of his witty retorts. Instead, both of you gave them the bird from over the seat.

Matty was leaning against you, his arms hooked into yours. Neither of you spoke, listening to the soft rumbling of the bus. You stank of weed, anyone could smell it on you. Remembering a perfume bottle in your handbag, you take it out and douse yourself, as well as Matty in it.

“Oh for fucks sake, now everything smells like Jimmy Choo Illicit!” Matty whined, burying his head in his hands. “Couldn't you have picked a manlier perfume? I'm already walking a very thin line with all of this” He vaguely gestures to himself.

“Would you rather get kicked out after coming to school smelling like a fucking dispensary? Think ahead, Matthew!” He cringes visibly

“No need to get out the full government name, jesus” he shuffles up against you, and you can see his eyes are a light shade of red. There's no way the two of you would get through first lesson unnoticed.

George was already waiting for you guys at your stop. Greeting him with a hug, you try to avoid eye contact, yet somehow, he knows.

“Hey, you alright-?” He cranes his neck to get a better look at your face

“Are you–? Are you high??” He laughs out loud, smacking your arm to stabilize himself. You shoot him a death stare, but you can feel a laugh coming too. Matty let out a sarcastic haha before kicking George as a way to say get on with it, we have class.

The walk to the room through the sea of people in the halls feels like a claustrophobic hell. B.O ridden teenagers rub up against the three of you, some even (quite violently) shoving past.

It's a miracle you make it without Matty losing his mind at one of the hecklers. School was actual hell for Matty, and by proxy, you. Insults were thrown at him without a second thought, and the makeup he’d adorned today surely didn't help the comments.

He never let it truly get to him. He didn't care, and that's what you loved so much about him. This part of the city was set back about fifteen years in terms of acceptance and progressivity, so his flowery backpack and femininity wasn't exactly welcomed.

Adam had always taken the piss out of him for his outfits since they were boys, but he never, ever meant it seriously. They were like brothers, those two, and no amount of shit from other people (irrelevants, as Matty would put it) would be able to break them apart.

The way the room was set up, there were six tables of four, with two people always facing another two. You had sat in the seat next to George, with Matty sitting (well, more like laying) across the other two chairs opposite you. Mr. Henderson had given up on trying to get Matty to sit right a long time ago, instead just flat out ignoring him. It was always easier to fail than to teach.

“Fucking poofter, that one,” you can hear someone saying from behind you. You know they mean Matty.

Matty blows them both a kiss before getting flipped off by the shorter one. He loved taking the piss out of the people who insulted him, throwing them off.

George questions mattys makeup, and you tell him it was his idea. George had always supported Matty, using his insanely tall stature to fend off anyone giving him a hard time.

The lesson was going by at a snail's pace, with Matty being his usual self, interrupting at every possible moment. It was so obvious he was off his tits, and Mr. Henderson looked suspicious. A particularly loud laugh from George had prompted him to throw you all out. You couldn't care less, getting up immediately.

Matty picked up his things from the floor, making a show out of bending over in front of the two boys that had insulted him earlier. They both scrunch their faces in disgust, muttering under their breaths. A giggle escapes you as they stare daggers.

“Fucking cunt,” one of them says, and now it’s your turn to blow them a kiss.

The three of you trudge down the halls, slowly but surely coming down from your highs. George suggests going to Ross and Adams flat, seeing as it's just a few bus stops away from the school. They share a flat above a Sainsburys, which is optimal for late night munchies. Adam even works there, so there's always opportunities to sneak a packet of crisps or a can of cola.

The bus stinks of sweat and mildew, as did all buses in britain. You get used to the stench after a while, your legs propped up onto George and Mattys laps. The back seat was always your favorite, giving you ample space to stretch a bit. You and George share headphones while Matty takes a quick power nap. He always lets you pick the music, and today it was Radioheads ‘No Surprises’. The music plays softly as buildings and trees pass by the window. The day was quite sunny, the light reflecting off of the windows of houses and offices. You'd sobered up enough to be able to think clearly by now.

These days were the best. They felt calm, like you could forget every other fucked up thing in your life. Your mother, your coursework. Nothing else existed in your little bubble except the people you were with. It felt peaceful, like a breath of fresh air.

Matty stirred awake as the bus halted to a stop, yawning for dramatic effect. He loved to exaggerate, ever the performer. George was the quiet, brooding type, trying desperately to go unnoticed, which proved rather difficult. Although he was barely coming up on his 18th birthday, he had grown to a staggering 6 '4, with a voice at least 3 or so octaves deeper than Mattys.

It had proven useful, you aways had someone to send into the smoke shop to buy fags or liquor, even if it always took a pep talk to even get him through the front door. George was convinced he didn't look older, even though he had never been carded. Ever.

Usually it was Adam who bought it for you, even though both Matty and Ross were also already 18. Matty had already been banned from most liquor stores in the area, so he proved rather useless in situations needing a bit of booze.

Mattys violent knocks against the flat door brought you back to reality

“C’MON OPEN UP ITS US,” his voice booms through the hallway. You can hear banging and shuffling coming from the other side of the door. It's so obviously Ross bumping into every available surface because he hadn't turned on the light yet. He was an avid day sleeper, mostly working night shifts. A particularly loud crash is followed by glass breaking.

Matty taps his foot impatiently, waiting for the door to finally open. Ross emerges, looking disgruntled and tired of Mattys shit.

“Mate, tell me, what possessed you to come knocking about at this hour, don't you have school-? I swear you're going to be the end of me one day” he rubs his eyes, getting the sleep out of them before moving out of the way to let the three of you in.

“First of all, it's like 11am, so not exactly the ungodly hour you were describing,” Matty starts “Second of all, we’ve been kicked out of class, so where better to come than here?”

The inside of the flat reeks of cigarettes and laundry detergent. Ross refuses to smoke on the terrace, deeming it too cold even in the middle of summer. Adam always smokes on the terrace, scared of staining the walls like in those addiction documentaries. A futile attempt, but at least he tries. Matty immediately lights a fag, sighing happily when the nicotine hit his system. School had always been an endurance test for him. Getting him to sit still for 2 hours without going for a cigarette proved nearly impossible. He was already itching by the 45 minute mark.

“What did you even do to get kicked out before 12?” He looks at George, who tells him exactly what happened with tears of laughter in his eyes. Matty rolls his before sitting down on the comforter located to the left of the TV, ashing into one of the various ashtrays situated around the house. George sits on the sofa next to Ross, and you make your way to your favorite spot, the table. Sitting cross legged on the table made you all face each other, which you quite liked.

“Brew?” George asks, looking up from his Ipod. Everyone nods, and he gets up to put on the kettle. Idle conversation fills the air, and Matty starts chatting about the new “groundbreaking” Metallica album. Matty was, if anything, a music snob. No one could stop him raving on about albums or artists, whether he was praising or criticizing them. Once he started, you couldn't stop him to save your life.

Minutes tick past when George brings back mugs of tea. Mattys mug has got the words “I ❤️ cum” on it. Ross has his usual Macclesfield Town mug, and you and George have the plain green ones Adam bought in an attempt to make the flat seem somewhat civilized.

Hours pass and Matty finally shuts up. You end up on top of him, sitting on the arms of the comforter. You're all watching Skins on the telly, and Mattys hand makes its way to your back, keeping you steady. He’d always been touchy like that, so it didn't bother you. You look at the sofa and see Ross passed out, drooling onto George's jumper. George, polite as ever, lets him sleep. It was a miracle Ross hadn't started snoring already.

You suggest to Matty that maybe it was time to get going, seeing as you lived on the other side of the city. George's place was right around the corner, so he decided to stay and look after Ross a bit before Adam got home from his shift. Britain's sweetheart.

Getting up as quietly as possible, making your way towards the door. Ross stirs as Matty almost knocks over his mug. The two of you make eye contact, silently laughing at Ross’ position, basically on top of George. He flipped you off, rolling his eyes and reaching for the remote, turning down the telly.

It was still fairly dark inside, so gathering everything proved a bit of a challenge. The curtains were drawn shut, the yellow material of them painting the house in a warm yellow hue.

You had spotted Mattys flowery bag in the corner next to the stove, and grabbed it along with a bottle of cola that was set on top of the kitchen counter. Hydration was important, after all, even if you knew Adam would be livid that you were stealing his shit again. What are mates for?

Matty grabbed both of your coats, mouthing “lets go,” before making his way towards the front door.

The bright light of the hallway burns your eyes. How do they survive coming out here when that fucking flat is always so dark? You think to yourself. You wonder if Ross has a vitamin D deficiency from the inherent lack of sunshine in his life, yourself excluded.

The bus ride home is rowdier, filled with kids from surrounding schools. The both of you hid in a corner towards the front, away from the dickheads that usually sat in the back row. You were both too tired to deal with anyone but each other.

He was right, everything did smell like jimmy choo now, and maybe you shouldn't have sprayed so much.

His hand wanders to his eyes, rubbing a bit of the eyeshadow off.

“Does it still look alright?” he asks, looking up from your lap. It had smudged a bit, melted off after a full day of wear. It's not like you used your expensive waterproof stuff, after all.

“You look fine, pretty actually,” You give him a tired smile, stroking his hair absentmindedly

“Can you even call a guy pretty? Isn't that, like, inherently degrading?” Matty mutters, a grin spreading onto his face.

“It's only degrading if you let it be. You Matthew Healy, are pretty. Pretty like a girl”

A laugh escapes you, imagining Matty as a woman. Knowing him, he’d be into it.

“Does it bother you? Y’know, me being feminine and wearing makeup.” The question surprises you. It's a rare thing seeing Matty this vulnerable. He doesn't care what other people think, but he does care what you think.

“You know I don't care, I actually prefer you this way.” you assure him.

“Though it's still my mission to convince you that the backpack is not the move you think it is.”

That earns you a frown from Matty. “It is! I'll let you know the lady at the store told be it very in this time of year” its always funny watching him get defensive over his fashion choices, even if he knows he’s fucked up and its hideous.

“Yeah maybe it's trendy... for 8 year old girls! But you do you mate, don't let me judge you,” that gets you an elbow to the gut.

The walk home is one you always take together. Arms hooked into each other, walking, sharing headphones. It's your turn on the music, putting on ‘This Charming Man’ by the smiths.

“You know, Morrissey sort of reminds me of you. You're really similar in your campness” Matty choked on air, shooting you a faux offended look.

“Did you seriously call Morrissey camp? He'd have your head for that.”

“You're both attention slags, so there's at least one similarity.” Matty doesn't say anything, knowing your words do, in fact, ring true. Matty loves attention, and man, is good at getting it.

He draws people to him like moths to a flame. Always the loudest, always the most interesting.

That one saying; “You can't be the prettiest girl at the party, but you always be the drunkest” is a personification of Matty. He tips back wine glass after wine glass, not caring about the stains on his shirt or the red ring around his lips. He then makes it a poor Hanns job to make sure he doesnt get into a scrap with three much bigger guys (which actually did happen last summer outside of a pub in london. Matty got out scot free, while Adam nearly suffered a heart attack).

You hug Matty goodbye, giving him a peck on the cheek.

You always dreaded coming home.

They say your biggest critic is your mind, but yours was your mother. You knew she had already gotten a call from the school saying you cut class. The moment you stepped into the living room, the yelling started. “How can you do this” and “What are you even doing with your life” turned into “Look at yourself, you look like a whore and you're going to school like that?” or “Were you out with that little gay boyfriend of yours again?”

You try to tune it out, not letting it get to you. She's been like that for as long as you can remember, never letting up for even just a second. You weren't the best kid, but she sure isn't helping you “get on the right track” as she liked to say.

Tears well up in your eyes when you finally shut your bedroom door. Your first instinct is to call Matty. He picks up after two rings, immediately hearing the quiver in your voice.

He tells you he’ll be there as soon as he can.

Minutes pass by slowly until you hear a familiar, although uncharacteristically soft, knock at your window. Matty.

Your puffy eyes meet his and he can tell you’d been crying. No words were exchanged as he took you into your arms, his hands soothingly stroking your hair as you let out muffled sobs into his chest. It broke his fucking heart to see you like this. You were extensions of each other, the others' pain was always your own.

“It's all so shit. Why cant she just be normal one fucking time.” your voice audibly shakes, partially out of anger and partially out of exasperation.

“I know i suck, I know I'm a bad daughter but-,” Matty cuts you off. “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” His words only make you cry harder.

He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, the sound of his voice similar to the way he spoke to you that night. His hands feel cold against your skin, and you know he’d rushed to your house without grabbing his coat. You look up at him, seeing his hair was unruly, curls falling into his face. The blonde highlights littered his dark hair and he ran his hand through them, brushing them to the side to get a better look at you.

“D’you want to sit down? We can listen to music. Whatever you want, and won't even comment on how shit it is, promise,” He knew you didn't want to talk about it then, you never did.

You sit in silence, your face still in his chest, staining the light blue material of his shirt. You quietly apologize, knowing how much he loves that shirt. He tells you to shut up, and that it didn't matter.

He had gotten it in Barcelona at some tourist shop for 50 quid. Insane price for a tshirt that just said “Barcelona” on it, but he held it dear to his heart. It reminded him of his childhood summers.

“There's a bottle of um…,” you trail off, gesturing to the second drawer of your nightstand. Matty understands, and reaches over you to open it. The drawer is filled with half eaten granola bars, bracelets, jewelry, the odd vape for when it was too cold to go outside. Matty always took the piss out of you for having them, saying they were ‘so fucking girly it hurt’. After a second of rummaging, he took out a half drunk bottle of Bacardi. It always sat in your nightstand for when you needed it, and you definitely needed it now.

“Only you'd have a giant bottle of rum in your nightstand,” Matty says softly, searching your expression. The corners of your mouth tug upwards at his words, and you crack a smile.

He opens it for you, and grabs an abandoned cup from your desk. The cup he had gifted you on your 17th birthday. It was covered in flowers and stars, very Matty. Very you. Pouring a healthy amount into the glass, he hands it to you.

“To shitty situations” He raises it, clinking it against your cup. He takes a swig straight from the bottle. You down the whole thing in one go, wincing as the alcohol burns down your throat.

“You feel better?” he asks, pouring more into your cup. You nod, before taking another drink. “I just need to get drunk and forget,” you sigh. Matty starts to speak again.

“That's an unhealthy way to go about it. Soon enough I'll be picking you up from corners because you can't handle your liquor. It's a recipe for alcoholism, innit?” you cackle at his words prompting Matty to raise his eyebrows at you.

“Oh come off it!,” How many times have you been so drunk you couldn't find your own dick if you tried. Sort yourself out before criticizing my drinking habits.” you scoff

You decide ‘Wonderwall’ by Oasis is the right soundtrack for the night. You lay down next to Matty, your shoulders and thighs touching each other. You look up fondly at the dozens of yellow stars littering your ceiling. Reminiscent of your early childhood, you couldn't bear to take them down. You still felt like a child, your heart yearning for the same innocence you no longer possessed. A distinct naïveté you missed dearly. After your breakup with Phillip you'd realized that the world wasn't all it was cut out to be. People wanted, and they took. It didn't matter to them if they hurt others, because as long as they were satiated, nothing else mattered.

You turn to your left, draping your arm over Mattys stomach. He let out a deep breath, raising his right arm to draw light circles onto your back. His nails had grown out longer than usual, but the sharpness of them was comforting through the thin material of your tank top. The edge of your small twin bed dug into your back.

The two of you laid like that for hours before sleep took over your body. The stars on the ceiling blurred as your eyes started to shut. You let out a soft hum, settling into Matty even more, holding him close.

You don't know how long he stayed, but he was gone when you woke up. You feel a sticky note attached to your forehead, the glue rubbing off on your skin. You could barely read Mattys erratic handwriting. The note read: you fell asleep, hope your hangover isn't as bad as mine. left you some Advil on your dresser xx.

Your hand reached next to you, feeling two tablets. You wash them down with water from the sink. Your cell phone lights up with a text from George

“We’re meeting at Hanns flat, be there in 30,”

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

The windows were rolled up, trapping the smoke inside. Your eyes were glazed over, barely able to make out Ross’ face in front of you. Watching as Matty took another hit, you made a ‘give it here’ motion at the zoot, prompting him to hand it to you. Rhianna blared through the radio, a far cry from Adams usual taste in music, but no one seemed to care. Even Matty had managed to keep his mouth shut, instead moving his head in time with the music.

Adam was sitting in the driver's seat, as always. He’d never let anyone else drive his girl, not even Ross. He was insanely protective over his car, even if it was an old piece of junk.

George was in the passenger seat, holding a pink, polka dotted ashtray in his hand. The colorful ceramic proved quite the contrast against his dark clothes and messy blonde hair. It was a gift from his older sister, and the only ashtray he ever used.

You were perched in the middle seat, your elbows on the console between Adam and George. Matty sat on your right, and Ross on your left.

“No joke, I once had a bird offer to give me a footjob. Can you imagine that?” Adam spoke loudly, almost too loud. Ross let out a disgusting snort, the mental image of Adam getting a footjob making him properly lose it. You make a face.

“That can't feel good at all, innit? Aren't the soles of feet rough?” you ponder. “Only if you have George's hobbit feet, that is,” Matty said, ducking to avoid yet another lighter being chucked at him. You were going to run out of lighters at this rate.

“I'll show you hobbit feet you fucking cunt,” George retorted, sticking out his tongue like a child.

“I had a girl once who wanted me to properly bite down on her nipples, like hard. Can't imagine how much that would've hurt.” you share. She’d been quite the odd one up until she was in your bed, so you were already expecting some sort of weird kink. Nipple biting was definitely not on that list. Not that you were kink shaming.

George spoke first: “What d’you mean girl? You're telling me you've been with girls?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “Erm, yeah? Didn't I tell you-?” Everyone shook their heads except Matty. You had already told him this story months before, the both of you laughing at your misfortune. Smiling at the fond memory, you meet Ross’ eye.

“We didn't know you were like, proper gay,” he says quietly, not wanting to sound abrasive. You suck in a deep breath before answering. “I'm not proper anything, and besides,” you point at Matty sitting next to you, “This one’s snogged loads of blokes.” A collective “What???” fills the car, with everyone's eyes now on Matty.

“What if I have? It's not my job to notify you of all my sexual endeavors, innit?” Matty looks slightly uncomfortable, giving you a look. You frown at him, and he shakes his head. Slight signs of a smile linger on his face. It's fine he mouths at you, resting his arm on your shoulder.

The three of them talk loudly over each other, with Ross asking some very explicit questions on the mechanics of gay sex.

“How do you even, like, properly shag? It's not like you have anything you can shove into the other girl,” Jesus christ.

Matty taps Ross’ shoulder, bringing the attention to his hands. He brings them up to his mouth, sticking his tongue out between the V-shape his fingers had made. Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, the whole demonstration makes Ross visibly cringe.

The car suddenly starts. Adam makes the short drive to Carolines, stating that the hotbox was getting to be too much for him. George has a go at his age, calling him an old man. Hann was in fact, about 2 and a half years older than George, and a solid year older than the rest of you. Old man was right.

You had rolled down the window on Mattys side, hoping some fresh air would help Adams driving skills. The erratic swerving had begun to make you sick.

Finally trugding up the stairs to the terrace, Matty says something about it being too fucking cold. Ross says “That's the price of being built like a male Kate Moss,” and Matty nearly shoves him down the stairs.

It is colder than usual, and you had opted for a dark gray zip up, the material hugging you tightly. You were pretty sure it was Mattys. A pair of green wash jeans hung low, revealing the lightning bolt tattoo on your right hip bone. It was a copy of Bowie's on the cover of ‘Aladdin Sane’. You had gotten it done by another one of your mates, Rome, who was an aspiring tattoo artist. It looked a bit shit, the lines slightly crooked, but it was yours.

You had convinced George and Ross to carry the sofa from the office onto the terrace. They were the tallest and strongest, and Mattys arms would have snapped like twigs if he tried to carry anything, you said to them. George laughed his octave defying laugh, while Ross let out an annoyed grunt, shoving past you.

Adam was right behind them, carrying a small wooden coffee table. “For you- I know how much you hate sofas,” he says quietly. You called him a softy, but inevitably thanked him for bringing it out. He had his rare sweet moments, and you appreciate them

Once you had all settled, you took out your tobacco and papes, starting to roll your first cigarette of the night. You honestly needed a break from all the weed, because jesus.

Matty let out a groan, taking the piss out of you for bringing all that instead of just buying industrials.

“I know you think you're better than us for rolling, it's quite pretentious.” he sucks in a breath before talking, moving his hands erratically “Don't tell me it ‘tastes better’ because that's simply bollocks, it all tastes the same!”

“Pretentious? Her? That's rich coming from someone who raves on about William Burroughs like anyone knows who is!” Matty looks hurt, and you give Ross a look that says you really don't know who William Burroughs is?

The conversation continued without you, too preoccupied with rolling to add anything. All was well until George decided to open his giant mouth again.

“If you're not fully gay,” he started, “how do we know you're not secretly crushing on any of us?” he raised his eyebrows, looking at you expectantly.

You let out a snort, it slowly morphing into laughter until you look at him, his expression deadly serious.

“You can’t actually mean that?” your voice is slightly hoarse. “For all we know, you could be harboring secret affection for Matty with the amount of times you’ve slept in the same bed.”

Mattys perks up at this, shooting George a glare that could kill a man. He told him???

You don't know what came over you. Maybe it was the weed, maybe you were just groggy from the lingering hangover. You lick the cig closed, setting down next to the others. Uncrossing your legs, you get up and walk towards Matty. You can see the grin plastered onto his face, and he is definitely not sober.

You stumbled over Adam's foot, kicking it out of the way. Ross moved away from Matty, giving you some space.

The terrace was dark, but the moonlight illuminated some of Mattys features. Specifically, his eyes. They seemed to glow, following your every step toward him. I'll show you secret affection you thought to yourself when your hand made contact with Mattys face. The stubble on his chin scratched your fingers. He never could grow a beard, and the faint shadow was as long as it would get.

He sat with his legs spread, skin peaking out through the single rip in his jeans. His arms rested on the sofas back, splaying out to the side. He wore a black v-line jumper, the knit of it almost see-through.

The makeup from the previous day was still smudged on his face, giving him a rockstar-esque look. The eyeshadow framed his eyes, glittering in the faint light. Your hands cupped his face, lightly stroking his jaw. The grin had been wiped off his face the moment you had settled between his legs, kneeling on the edge of the sofa.

You didn't think, just moved, your lips smashing against each other. It seemed to take Matty by surprise, and it even took him a second before he kissed you back. One thing nagged at you. Why did you like it?

There was no time to think when you heard George wolf whistle at the both of you.

You want a show, I'll give you a show you thought, slipping in your tongue and taking over the kiss. He seemed into it, but then again, Matty would fuck anything with a pulse. You smile against his mouth at the thought. It suddenly felt hot, even though you were outside. His hand snaked its way into your hair, tugging slightly. This didn't feel platonic. Was it?

“Alright, alright, we didn't sign up for a porno,” Ross says, his hand covering his mouth. You were the one who broke the kiss. Matty let out a soft groan when you parted, loud enough for only you to hear. His eyes pierced yours, and you moved to get off of him.

Your heart thrummed against your ribcage, and you felt dizzy. What the fuck?

You wiped your mouth, your lipgloss having smeared all over your face. Wiping the back of your sticky hand against the sofa, you turned and walked back to your spot on the table.

“See! Absolutely no ‘secret affection’ as George so kindly put it.” you say to the group, going back to your pile of fags, taking one and lighting it. If you had looked at Matty instead of being preoccupied with Hanns bickering about the prissy new manager, you would have noticed a faint shade of red caressing his cheeks. He felt around for his own cigarettes, and took out a pack of parliaments. Spotting the lighter next to you, he reached for it, lighting the cig as he inhaled the smoke eagerly.

It was already half two when the five of you finally piled back into Hanns car. The prominent stench of weed made you scrunch up your nose. You decide to light a cigarette in the car despite various protests and threats to your life if you even dared to ash onto the leather seats. Switching seats with Matty, you ash out the window instead, resting your head against the rim of the car.

Ross and George were having yet another meaningless debate on whether mixing ketchup and mayo was a cardinal sin or totally acceptable. Every other word was an insult, and you knew they would never come to an agreement, ever.

You had already established that you’d be sleeping over at Mattys, saving Adam time and petrol not having to drive both of you home separately. Denise and Tim were out on a press tour, so he had the house to himself.

His room was dark, the curtains drawn shut. If you knew Matty, you knew he hated the big light with a burning passion. Instead, a small lamp was turned on in the corner, illuminating the various posters that littered his wall. Band posters, prints, tapestries, the occasional quote. Everything screamed Matty

His room was filled with so much music. CD’s, vinyls, even the odd cassette tape. His purple record player sat on top of a dresser next to his desk, surrounded by various small trinkets of his. It was his prized possession, a gift from his mother for his 14th birthday.

You had already helped yourself to a cola from his fridge downstair. His house was huge, way bigger than your own. Your parents weren't actors, after all. The walls of his room were stained towards the corners, just another side effect of Mattys near constant chain smoking. His bed was big, and you both fit comfortably on it. The wardrobe next to it had a pile of your own clothes in it, but none to sleep in. Your eyes dart around the room looking for one of his to wear, landing on his bright pink durex t-shirt. He had worn it once to school, promptly getting kicked out of literature class by a very conservative Mrs. Sexton.

Soft music was playing in the background as you unloaded your bag onto Matty’s insanely cluttered desk. Out came multiple pens, makeup, not one, not two, but three lighters, and finally, makeup wipes.

You sat on the ground in front of his full length mirror, wiping at your eyes and face. Matty was making the bed, giving the both of you each your own duvet, a must after too many fights over the blanket. You weren't a peaceful sleeper, constantly tossing and turning, occasionally even kicking Matty in the back.

Washing your face, you hear the bathroom door click open. Matty went and sat on the closed toilet lid next to you.

“Hand me my toothbrush, will you? And some toothpaste.” he asked, stretching his hand out. You do, even wetting the toothbrush for him.

He sat there, brushing his teeth and flipping through a recent issue of playboy while you put moisturizer on, and then a serum.

“I dont get how you can be arsed to put all that shit on your face, it takes way too long,” his comment makes you roll your eyes at him in the reflection.

“Not everyone is naturally blessed with clear skin like you, people like me have to put effort into their appearance, knobhead.” A wave of insecurity hits you as you inspect the acne on your face.

You had been a chronic face picker in your early teenage years, and the consequences of that were gnarly acne scars covering most of your face. They were not prominent, but they were there.

Matty was fortunate enough to have had maybe three zits ever, his clear skin the stuff of dreams.

Matty watches you pick yourself apart in the mirror. He hated when you did that. It made his heart ache in his chest. He wished you could see what he saw. What did he see?

“You’re quite beautiful, really,” he says, making eye contact with you through the mirror. You’re taken aback, not quite sure how to respond. You open your mouth to speak.

“Oh bugger off,” you say, your voice breathy and annoyed. You didn't want to sound annoyed, it just came out that way.

Matty raises both his hands in defeat, and spits the toothpaste into the toilet bowl, flushing. The hairbands sitting on the bathroom counter eventually end up in your hair, holding together two braids on either side of your face. You stare at the mirror one more time, examining yourself. The pink fabric of your (well, Mattys) shirt clung to you like it did Matty. Taking off your bra, you go back into his room. He had changed into a loose Kiss t-shirt and black boxers. The light of the corner lamp helped you find your phone, sitting on the nightstand next to you.

The atmosphere was calm, calm enough that you’d almost forgotten about the kiss. Almost.

Matty reached over to turn the lamp off, lighting a candle for light. Cinnamon.

“You know it's dangerous to sleep with candles lit? We could catch on fire and die,” Matty had rolled over on his side, now facing you. A grin spread onto his face.

“If it kept me from ever seeing Hanns ugly mug ever again, i’d gladly let cinnamon spice scented flames burn me to death,”

You giggle at his words. Poor Adam, always taking the worst of Mattys jokes, if you could even call them that. Accepting his decision to keep the candle lit, you pull the blanket over your shoulders. Your eyes shut and you can feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies, really? Jesus fucking christ.

You're scared to open your eyes, scared to even look at Matty. Maybe it was a mistake. He's your best mate. That kiss didn't mean anything, especially not to him.

A million thoughts race through your head, and you shove them into a small corner of your mind. Ignore ignore ignore, it didn't mean anything. He's just some wanker who picked you up at a bus stop three years ago and somehow became your best mate. He's just some guy you share a bed with sometimes. He's just some guy who lights your spliffs for you. He's just some guy who you kissed on a terrace overlooking the city.

Fuck.

#look at me trying to write #cringe #the 1975 #matty healy #ross macdonald #adam hann #george daniel #drive like i do #matty healy x reader #matty healy angst #matty healy fluff #slow burn #eventual smut #friends to lovers #fallingforyou #dlid #matty healy x you

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genderstormwrites · 1 month ago

Note

if youre taking requests, could i possibly ask for more corporate dronification? you write it really well :3

Well of course, anon. We take care of our loyal employees here...

Retention Training

The flickering of the pale light cast on the wall from the overhead projector set my eyelids aflutter as I leaned back in the cushioned chair of the 8th story office. Sighing with the weight of impatience and disapproval, I glanced at the clock hung upon the wall, ticking deafeningly as the seconds drew closer to the designated meeting time. I'd protested with my boss about this training session. "Retention Training" the email called it. Seemed to me like a sorry attempt to keep me from leaving this dump of an office a mere days after I put in my two weeks. That, and a colossal waste of time.

Whatever the case, this bullshit training got me out of having to wrap up and document projects all afternoon, so I didn't protest too loudly. Thing was, I wasn't the only employee who was getting fed up with the way The Corporation was running things, and lots of us were quitting. Surely this "Retention Training" was a hastily cooked up scheme by HR to change some minds before people walked out the door, but it must have been backfiring, because any other employee I'd heard of getting the training didn't even bother showing up to work afterwards.

As the clock struck the top of the hour, the flickering of the projector light grew in sudden intensity. the light cast upon the wall turned sickly and uncomfortable, but in a manner that dared me to continue watching, untrusting of what was happening. Where was the training official? What was with the shoddy electronics? Something felt off until the conference phone at the center of the table rang and immediately clicked, as though it was answered automatically.

"Ms. Storm, your Retention Training will begin now. Please keep your attention on the screen and do not vacate your seat." The voice was robotic and monotone, a steady alto that was at once disconcerting and soothing.

"Excuse me, what exactly is this trai-"

"Please do not speak while the training process commences, Ms. Storm."

A sudden, sharp click sounded and I looked to my left as the door to the room was locked from outside and a curtain was pulled over the window, leaving the only source of light the sickly flickering projector.

"Hey, what's going on? What is thi-"

"The training sequence will commence now. Please remain in your seat and face forward for an optimal experience."

Suddenly, flashing colors and swirling lights assaulted my eyes from the projector, overwhelming my vision and leaving me staring forward, dumbfounded.

"This training will consist of multiple phases. We will begin by introducing you to the Corporate Retention Program. We will then remind you of the values of The Corporation. Finally, we will assign you a new permanent position and ID to begin employment immediately."

Panic filled my mind as the words sunk in fully, but my eyes inexplicably remained glued to the screen. I tried to speak - to shout for help, but my body refused to move. My voice refused to utter any more than a soft rasp as I stared into the overstimulating lights.

"Let us begin by discussing the Corporate Retention Program. At The Corporation, we pride ourselves on having a collection of happy, enthusiastic, and productive employees. We do everything in our power to keep our employees satisfied so that they enjoy working with us until retirement. With this in mind, we'd like to take a moment to remind you why you are here, and what you can expect as you continue your journey through our wonderful organization."

I could feel my body shaking as images began streaming on the screen in quick succession. At the rate they were going, discerning any single image was difficult, but emotions nonetheless began flooding my mind. Happiness. Inclusivity. Connectedness. An appreciation for all the company could provide. Even as my thoughts screamed that something was wrong, these feelings became overwhelming.

"You are a happy employee of The Corporation."

I am a happy employee of The Corporation.

"The Corporation gives you an opportunity to Be Productive."

The Corporation gives me an opportunity to Be Productive.

"Being Productive is the best feeling in the world."

Being Productive is the best feeling in the world.

I ceased being able to tell if the words were coming from my mouth or my brain or the phone in front of me. They just felt so true. So obvious. I began to feel ashamed for the resignation I had put in. Why would I ever want to leave?

"In the corporation, we value productivity. We value compliance. We value unity."

The words flowed out of my mouth as easily as if I'd always known them. In some ways, it felt as though I always had. The Corporation had always been there for me... for us.

"And it always will be."

We would never want to leave the corporation.

"The Corporation is where we belong."

As we spoke in unison, I began to feel hands dancing across my body. I barely moved except as they prompted me to, cutting away clothing as I sat in my seat and slowly pulling something around my bare skin. Shiny black latex, softly rubbing against my body and conforming to my shape so effortlessly, as though it were contracting and stretching to fit me perfectly. Or perhaps as though I were contracting and stretching to fit it...

"The Corporation believes in uniformity."

We love to conform to Corporate Standards.

"The Corporation determines identity."

We have no individuality that The Corporation does not approve.

"We are more productive when we work as a unit."

It feels so good to lose ourselves in the endless work assigned to us.

"We all have a place to belong."

Not once did I see the ones dressing me, my eyes were far too trained on the projection ahead. But by the time the lights on the wall returned to just a pale white light, I was again alone in the room. My clothing gone, replaced with a latex catsuit that felt beyond natural. this was my uniform. My new skin. The Corporation deemed it so.

On the table before me, next to the conference phone that delivered my training, a single black helmet with a tinted black visor sat staring up at my empty face.

"Unit 8072, to complete your training, please attach your Corporation task-determination helmet and report to HR for permanent assignment."

Perhaps, for a moment, my body hesitated as its arms reached forwards to pick up the helmet and lower it in place above my head. That hesitation would be my last, however, as the helmet hissed in place and sealed for what I knew would be the last time. Instantly, the visor within lit up to define everything I would ever need to know. My unit assignment, my schedule, my entire purpose.

"Unit 8072, reporting. Terminating resignation request. Preparing to report to Corporation HR for diagnostics and assignment."

#storm asks #brainwashing #hypnosis #dronification #corporate hypnosis #corporate dronification #corporate brainwashing #mind control #hypnokink

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mossi-dreams · 10 days ago

Text

i've had like, ~ 24 hours to sit and process so here's what i liked and didn't like about kraven the hunter (the movie, ofc)

SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT : BE WARNED

i'll start with all the things i liked

i LOVED every single aspect of the family dynamics. while i think they could've expanded on sergei's relationship w/ his mother, i think they made a safe choice to keep it vague like the comics did

piggybacking, sergei living in the place his mother used to take him & dimitri camping??? YES!! honestly i quite like his little setup ngl

dimitri's entire character arc. like- yes!! let him be evil!! honestly i was worried we weren't gonna get to see any sort of actual chameleon presence, but the end had me GAGGED. i was thrilled. fred did incredible

i can really tell where and when they pulled inspiration from in the comics, as someone who did actually read a good chunk of comics w/ kraven in them, i saw a lot of that inspiration in there and i was quite pleased ngl

i was rooting against nikolai the entire fucking movie ngl, i was DELIGHTED to see that man meet his demise

THEY GAVE SERGEI A FUCKING PERSONALITY!!! hot take but i get so bored of every single rendition of kraven having the same damn personality, like give us more than that!! you have so much to play with!! i loved seeing him cocky, but actually charismatic, and lowkey very haunted, especially by his mother, LOVED that detail. (i think sergei being much younger in this rendition, as an origin story, gave a lot more room to explore his personality before he really hardens as a character, and i'm glad they took that avenue)

THE FUCKING SNOW LEOPARD SCENE!!! i fucking lost it, i was laughing, giggling, silently screaming. that was the most cat/dog/pet dad thing EVER i needed more of that, actually.

i also enjoyed watching him be feral. the action scenes were pretty good imo

by the end of the movie, i (personally) 100% understood what atj meant when he said that this "wasn't going to end well" for sergei. he spends most of the movie trying to get back the only family that matters to him, only for his brother to turn on him after it all. THE ANGST. THE DIVIDE. THE CRUMBLE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP. i loved to see it.

and ofc, my gripes about the movie

i wanted more calypso content, specifically i wanted more kraven x calypso content. you can't just introduce kraven's best love interest and then not use her as an actual love interest. ariana & aaron had SUCH chemistry on screen, i think there was a serious missed opportunity there

the list. they marketed kraven's list as being like, a focal plot point when it really wasn't???? it made up maybe a third of the plot and then forgotten

the movie kind of dragged a little imo bc it was confusing plot-wise. i feel like certain plot points were dragged out, and some plot points were not touched on enough. also a lot of trailer footage we saw just straight up wasn't in the movie?? where'd it go?? i wanted to see adult kraven in tears man what HAPPENED (j.c. chandor if you can hear me, release a director's cut idgaf how long it is just RELEASE IT)

honestly i think they just marketed this movie wrong. if they'd focused more (marketing-wise) on how sergei's relationship with his family ultimately sets him down his path of destruction, the movie would've been received MUCH better than it was

overall, i thoroughly enjoyed the movie, and i think they've left a good open end to explore this character in the future, and i HOPE aaron taylor-johnson will reprise this role in the future, he has such potential in this role and i would love to see more of him in this role, especially as kraven's story unfolds, involving spider-man AND kraven's own family, i want to see that dynamic explored so badly y'all have NO IDEA.

#kraven the hunter spoilers #kraven the hunter #sergei kravinoff #aaron taylor johnson #kraven the hunter movie #vanth yaps #vanth.txt

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fallinforerling · 2 years ago

Text

LOVE ISN'T ETERNAL. chapter 9 - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

After being dropped off by Jude’s parents, you stayed on the couch for a good hour thinking about how bizarre the whole day was. You didn’t even want to check your phone right now, so you just left it in your living room and went directly to get a hot shower.

While undressing, you noticed that you had dinner while wearing Jobe’s jersey. Hah, now it made sense why so many people took double looks at you. Not that you cared.

You just wanted to relax for once. The whole process of getting ready for bed got you in a better mood; so after doing your skincare and drinking some tea, you felt ready to check your messages.

There were some texts from the girls and some from Jobe. You went for Jobe’s first since they were the most recent.

✉️ Jobe: Thank you for the weirdest night ever

✉️ You’re welcome?

✉️ Jobe: No, seriously. I haven’t seen Jude this happy for a while now

✉️ Jobe: He’s close to giggling and kicking his feet like a little girl

✉️ lmao

✉️ Maybe that’s because I told him I was going to unblock him

✉️ Jobe: Did you?

✉️ Not yet…

✉️Jobe: Well, maybe you should

✉️ Oh my god??? What’s happening???

✉️ Jobe: I talked to him, just… Maybe? I won’t force you tho

✉️ I’ll consider it

✉️ Jobe: That’s good enough for me… Have a good night, darling

✉️ Good night, sweetie

Odd. What could possibly be happening that Jobe was (kinda) defending his brother? You didn’t blame him, obviously. But… Again, odd. With a shrug, you hopped on the girl’s group chat, which had lots of messages from hours ago.

✉️ Nikki: Weeeeell…. I was casually checking the TikToks people were posting about the game… You know, to see how it was going

✉️ Nikki: THEN… Girl, you went a bit viral agaaaaain. You appeared on the big screen and SOME people saw the little interaction Mr. Jobe and you had. The football fandom is going crazy again, a lot of people are debating if you’re his girlfriend or Gio’s girlfriend

✉️ Mia: Since none of them had said a word about the rumors… People are kinda taking sides

✉️ Mia: I also saw that after the first half some girls were looking for you because they were near your seat and you were gone. Then they noticed you were sitting next to THE Jude Bellingham and went on trying to figure out if you were his girlfriend instead while taking videos and photos to POST?!

✉️ Nikki: MESSY

✉️ Oh god… I just saw this… WHY ME, LORD?!

✉️ It’s like… For each day of peace I get, ten days of absolute chaos are piled up on my door

✉️ Nikki: It’s the drama, the fun, the footballers, the fame

✉️ Nikki: Our beautiful little WAG

✉️ Mia: If it’s not with douchie, it’s with that Gio guy

✉️ Mia: Heʼs hot af

✉️ Mia????

✉️ Do you want his number?

✉️ Nikki: Omg, Miaaaa

✉️ Mia: Both of you… Shut up. This isn’t about me finding Gio the hottest man alive, this is about YOU getting shipped with half of the footballers you know

✉️ Don’t remind me of that, please

✉️ I’ll better get some sleep before the vein on my forehead explodes, bye my loves

✉️ Nikki: Bye baby! Sweet dreams

✉️ Mia: Score a goal!

✉️ Fuck you lmao

Great. You were never getting rid of that stupid “popularity” among the football fanbase… Well, at least among the people that cared about the player’s love lives. They knew your face now, even if the subject of who your “boyfriend” was died down. You were out there forever for people to see and have an opinion.

Time to sleep.

You were on your way to turn off the lights and wash your cup when the telecommunicator started to ring; you almost let out a scream. Who on Earth was ringing your house at two A.M?! With your heart beating like crazy, you ran to answer and yell to the jerk on the other side.

“Miss! I’m so sorry to bother you this late but…” Mel’s words were interrupted by some loud male voices. “There’s a couple of gentlemen asking me to allow them into your floor…” Oh, poor Mel.

You couldn't scream to your sweet doorman Mel.

“Mel! Hi... Gentlemen? As... Men asking to come here?” This was unbelievable.

“Yes, uh. They'd been here for at least ten minutes. I'd tried to persuade them into leaving but nothing works."

“Do you happen to recognize these gentlemen?” Your gut feeling was very reliable, so you kinda knew who it was.

“Well… I’m not so sure about it, but I think that’s… Bukayo Saka and Jude Bellingham, miss.”

He surely knew them at first sight, but it was adorable he was trying to dissimulate it.

“Oh, my god…” You sighed. When was this going to end? “Just… Let them in, Mel.”

“As you wish.”

You wanted to punch someone so bad right now. But you just stayed there, by your door, waiting for what seemed to be the night of never end.

No less than five minutes later, your door was being punched at. Because that wasn't a knock. You considered for a moment letting them outside, but you weren't going to sleep if you did that.

When you opened it, the silliest sight welcomed you. There was Bukayo, a mutual friend that you haven't seen in very long, carrying (if you can call that carrying) a very drunk Jude. How did you know he was drunk? Well, he was (seemingly) asleep against Bukayo's side, only kept from falling because of his friend's arm around his waist.

“Okay...” Was the first thing that came out of your mouth. “This is... Something.”

“So sorry to do this at such late hours... He's been so insistent. He got a bit too drunk and started to ask about where his girlfriend was and that he wanted to come home.” Bukayo's eyes went blank, sighing. He seemed pretty sober to you. “I tried to persuade him into visiting you tomorrow, but this guy never takes no for an answer.”

“That sounds like him.” You smiled at him apologetically. Because what else could you do? No one knew you two had broken up, and this wasn't the best moment to break the news either. “Let's take him to the couch, I'll help you.”

You got closer, feeling the smell of alcohol reeking from Jude. Iugh. You took one of his arms, putting it around your shoulders. Hah, and just a couple of hours earlier you were trying to avoid just that. With a lot of effort, both of you laid him out the best you could. That didn't mean that it was done in the most careful way. So he woke up, looking at you and then at Bukayo.

“Am I dreaming, mate?”

“Nah, fam. I did what you asked me; I took you to your girl.” He palmed Jude's arm and then smiled at you. “Now I'm out, this whole thing tired me up.”

“That's okay. Thank you for taking care of him.” You gave him a little hug after guiding him to the door. “I hope we can catch up another time without this type of thing going on.”

“Me too.” He smiled again, looking as sweet as ever, and then turned and left.

Now you were alone with...

“Darling?” Oh no, not the darling.

You turned, looking at Jude, who was struggling to keep himself sat upright. He was looking at you with the most drunken-hazed eyes ever, accompanied by the biggest of smiles.

“Yes, Jude?” It was better not to argue with a drunk person this late at night.

“Can I tell you something?”

“Yeah, sure.” You got closer, sitting on the carpet. Not too close, but not too far away from him. “What is it?”

“I'm an idiot. I'm so dumb, I got drunk tonight, and I miss you.” The smile left his face, but he was still looking at you with happy eyes. “Every time I see your face, I remember that I'm mad dumb for breaking up with you. Because I still love you. A lot.” He let himself fall back into the couch pillows, sighing. “I don't know why I panicked so much a month ago. It was a stupid chat.”

“Sorry?” Your heart was beating fast because of his past confessions, but this new phrase caught your attention way more. “What chat?”

He wasn't looking at you. He was just looking up at the ceiling, like he was trying to remember something.

“Just some stupid chat the coach gave us before you arrived at Dortmund that day... He was talking about how we, as professionals, had to settle in earlier so we didn't get carried away because of all the money and parties... And the drugs. He said that there was a reason for footballers to get married and have kids at such young ages.” He sighed again, looking tired. “And I knew he was talking to the younger part of the team, which included me... I just... I felt like I was being pressured to marry immediately... I got so carried away with my thoughts that I panicked when I saw you. You make me so happy, but I didn't feel ready for any of the coach's options.”

“So... You broke up with me instead of talking?” Woah. “That's fucked up, Jude.”

“I know... And I'm not asking you to forgive me or... Get back together with me... Even though that's what I have been wishing since I said the words, but... I wanted you to know.”

He didn't seem drunk at all now.

“Thank you for telling me.” That's all you could say for now. Too much information to take in.

“Would you have said yes?” He asked after a few minutes of silence, still looking at the ceiling.

“To what?”

“Marrying me.”

You felt like someone punched your heart and took the air out of your body. At the same time.

“I won't answer that.” Mostly because you didn't know the answer. “Get some sleep.” You got up, looking down at him.

“Why not?”

You took a long look at his face. You gave him a little smile, reaching for his cheek with one of your hands. You caressed it with the tip of your fingers before regretting touching him at all. He closed his eyes, but opened them when you retrieved your hand.

“Because there's no point in answering something that's not going to happen.”

He frowned, looking offended for a second before relaxing his face again.

“Well, I haven't asked you.”

“And you shouldn't, because that's something you do when you're sure about it... And not drunk.” You took one of the covers you kept close, tucking him on the sofa so he couldn't move. “And when you're in a relationship, of course. Now sleep or I'll kick you out of my house.”

“Okay...” He appeared so similar to a kid now, all flustered and with big eyes. “I'm sorry for all of this.”

“I forgive you.”

And that was true. You forgave him for all of it. You couldn't hold a grudge forever. It wasn't healthy.

“Really?” Hope sparkled in his eyes. It made your heart ache.

“I promise.”

Then you got closer and kissed his forehead to prove him right about your words. He gave you the biggest of smiles, again, before falling asleep right there. You gave him a last caress on the cheek before turning the lights off and walking towards your bedroom.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You thought it was impossible to get any sleep after what happened, but the moment your head touched the pillow, you were out. The stress was draining your energy. You blacked out until the next morning, when a knock on the door woke you up.

You remembered everything that had happened just a couple of hours ago. There was Jude, knocking on your door like he was a stranger. Somehow, it felt like it.

“Come on in.” You said after a few seconds, rubbing your face.

The door slowly opened up. Jude was still covered in the blanket, holding it together with one hand below his chin while the other rubbed his eye. Pretty much the same as you. You couldn't help but smile a little at the sight.

“Good morning.” Even his voice had a little hint of shyness.

“Did you sleep well?” Was all you said while you got up and walked towards the bathroom.

“Yes...” He followed you, just two steps behind. “Thank you.”

“Stop saying 'thank you', just come here and brush your teeth.” You grabbed one of the brand new toothbrushes you kept in the drawer, offering it to him.

He seemed so scared yet happy about your behavior while taking the toothbrush. You weren't fooling anyone, it was fun to play with his mind a little bit. Payback.

He stood there watching you brush your teeth, wash your face, and brush your hair. It was very funny.

“I'm not going to suddenly take a knife out and follow you around the house with it, Jude. Get cleaned or you won't get breakfast.” You got out of the bathroom, smiling at him when he just blinked at you. “All yours.” And then you left him alone in there.

You entered the kitchen, ready for some breakfast. You heard the bathroom sink go on and off for a few minutes. Meanwhile, you decided to make some scrambled eggs with ham and toast some beagles. It was the best you could offer with so many thoughts taking most of your concentration.

When you were finishing the second plate, Jude appeared by the door and stayed there. He looked at the plates with surprise, like it was actually impossible for you to be making breakfast for him.

“It's getting cold.” You offered him one of the plates that was already sitting on the mini table you had available.

“Are you preparing me for my sudden death, darling?” He sat in front of you, waiting for you to take the first bite. He always did that.

“Not yet.” You took a bite off the beagle, smiling when he did the same. “Maybe after I eat.”

He smiled but didn't say anything. You ate in silence, looking at each other from time to time. You felt different around him now that you knew what caused him to break up with you. It wasn't that you suddenly forgot about everything else or how mad you felt, but it made things easier. You wanted to talk. Now there was a real reason for it.

“I'll wash the dishes.” Before you could say anything, he took both plates and stood up.

“Go ahead... And after you finish them, we'll talk.”

“Do I make some tea first?”

“Yeah, that'll be nice.”

He seemed to understand what was crossing your mind, so he made the tea quietly and walked to the living room. You followed him.

“Well...” You took a sip of the tea. “Do you remember what you said last night?”

“I do...” He squirmed on the seat. He was nervous. “I wanted to tell you all that sober but... I fuck up things quite regularly.”

You smiled, shaking your head.

“Okay, it's good for the sake of this conversation that you remember everything. Now, when I said that I forgive you, I meant it. But that doesn't mean I'm not angry or hurt by all of it.” He nodded. “I'm still disappointed about how poorly you managed the whole thing; you just needed to talk to me, and the breakup would never have happened.”

“I know.” He covered his face, sighing. “I'm an idiot.”

“Yeah! Look at me, I spent a month thinking you didn't love me anymore, and it turns out that you just were a bastard that didn't know how to talk to his girlfriend.” You slightly pushed his arm with your foot. “You said you didn't love me as you used to... Why?”

“I don't know.” He groaned, taking his hands off his face. “I guess I wanted you to hate me. I’ve never stopped loving you.” He grabbed your ankle, dragging your leg closer to his body. “I think I love more than before, actually.”

You didn't say anything for a while, you just looked at him for the longest time, trying to figure out what to do next.

“I'm very mad at you.” You took a deep breath. “That club thing you did after we broke up is still fresh in my mind. I can't pretend everything is the same just because we talked.”

“I know. I'm a jerk for doing that. I just wanted to see if... If I could act like I was okay. I wanted to feel okay. And couldn't accept that I regretted breaking up with you the second you left.”

“Always your big ego, huh?” You laughed. “Don't take this as if we just got back together. We're... We're friends from now on.”

“We are friends for now.” He said, smiling. “Because I'll do everything that's in my power to win you back.”

“Whatever you say, Bellingham.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ * TAGLIST

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dearmura · 1 year ago

Text

new hair, who dis?

☆ cw. some swearing, (not beta read)

☆ pairings. idol! Ni-Ki × fem! reader

☆ synopsis. Jokingly replying to Ni-Ki's latest post, you expected to be left on sent for the rest of life. Instead, you get a reply back...you're joking right?

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You sigh to yourself for the nth time that past hour, scrolling mindlessly in utter boredom. An image posted a few days ago catches your eye, one of Ni-Ki with his new blond hair. You scoff, could the company make it any more obvious they're having a comeback?

As much as you loved the new look, you couldn't deny your love for his previous Oreo hair. With a pout, you repost the picture, captioning to your few followers how much you hate hybe for changing his hair

As your eyes shift to the clock, you hiss, realizing how unproductive you're being

Peeling yourself away from your pillows, you shuffle your way into your kitchen, practically dragging yourself to your fridge with how lazy you're feeling

Grabbing a bottle of water, you bring it to your lips, about to take a sip when a buzz is heard from your phone

Not having any human interaction that day, you opted for checking the source, guessing somebody messaged you. Not to your surprise, it was nobody, but rather a notification indicating enhypen had made a new post

With enhypen's lack of content in-between promotional periods, you were thrilled to see an update. Shuffling back into your room, you lay back on your bed, clicking the post

You mentally squeal at the image of Ni-Ki posing for a selfie, double tapping your screen with so much enthusiasm one would've thought he'd come to life if you did so. In the midst of your fangirling, you came up with quite the stupidest, most delulu idea ever. To be fair, you had nothing to do, what else could a girl do to keep herself busy?

Opening up your dms, you search for Ni-ki's profile. You're hopeless, really

You scoff at yourself

Clicking on his profile, you conjure up quite the worst first message ever, failing at an attempt to be funny

Wait...have we met before? Cuz you look a lot like my future boyfriend

Before you back out of it out of pure cringe, you click send, immediately throwing your phone to the other side of your bed. You knew that idols don't even open their dms but the embarrassment lingered, nevertheless

After a few minutes of self-hatred, you open up your phone again, too bored to continue staring at the ceiling. Taking another sip of water, you hear a second buzz

You spray water all over your bed at the notification before your eyes. You slapped yourself to make sure you weren't seeing things, unfortunately, the sting on your skin confirmed your greatest fear that you were, in fact, not in a nightmare

I've got to admit, you've wooed me with that one

You scream into your pillow in pure embarrassment, avoiding the situation you got yourself into for a second

Your heart clenches once more when you hear another dreadful buzz

Leaving me on seen now? I thought you were interested, darling😞

You almost scoff at how dumb you looked right now. Nevertheless, you begin typing to not upset him further

If you're a hacker, this guy isn't even that famous, it's not worth it

You joke in hopes of lightening the mood, more for yourself though

Ouch

I come in peace

You giggle to yourself, still not processing your chat with THE nishimura riki

Sorry bub, if it makes you feel any better, I love your new hair, its almost as pretty as you

Almost

You don't know where all this confidence came from but all you know is that you're very obviously flirting with a literal idol. What have you done with your life...

Never thought I'd like being called pretty but here I am

He answered back wittily, making you scoff

Just as you're about to respond, your phone notifies you of a follow request...from him?

How about we make this our little secret, yea?

He texts almost immediately after the notification. Not entirely believing the current situation, you reply

Enough messing around

If you're gonna hack his account, just enjoy your followers and leave me alone

Rather than a text, you receive an image as a reply. A selfie. Of Ni-ki. One you know for a fact he's never posted on any socials

Yea? And what if I told you I wasn't a hacker, princess?

You almost cry, realizing your stupid pick up lines and attempts at jokes were actually received by the real Ni-Ki. Hesitantly, you accept the follow request

Yes, you were embarrassed, but who were you to pass up the opportunity?

Thanks babe😘

He texts back teasingly

Your story from earlier that day pops up with a reply underneath, knowing immediately you were screwed

Wait what happened to liking my hair, princess???

You really hurt my feelings:(((

Blushing in embarrassment for the nth time that day, you couldn't help but want to shrivel up into a ball and die already

Oh God

I'm so sorry

I didn't expect you to see that

I really like your hair

It looks really good on you

Fuck I'm sorry

You panic, tears coming to your eyes, hit with the realization you just offended your idol. Before you could beat yourself up further, you hear another buzz

No worries princess, I like my old hair better too:((

Though I am still a little hurt

Don't think I'll forgive you for that one love😞

Maybe if you take me out I can leave it behind us...

You practically cry at this point. Was he trying to flirt with you? And lowkey asking you out? Knowing you weren't in the right state of mind, you ignore your thoughts, opting for leaving this problem for future you

I uh need to go to bed

Good night, I hope I didn't bother you

You mentally curse at yourself for how stupid you sound

Oh love you could never bother me if you tried

I'll be expecting a reply on that offer next time;)

Sweet dreams angel

Next time? God you were about to throw up. You quickly like his message before throwing your phone, utterly flabbergasted at what just happened. You squeeze your eyes shut, praying what just happened was some weird dream

Fin

Author's note: Wrote this for a drabble request but clearly got too into it🥹🥹

#enhypen #enhypen fluff #ni ki enhypen #niki fluff #niki x reader #niki x you #nishimura niki #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff

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hearts4hughes · 2 years ago

Note

I would love for you to finish hard to get, Taylor swift tickets, or flirt? Btw your writing is phenomenal. You’re doing amazing bestie 🫶🏼

taylor swift tickets - trevor zegras

jack hughes x fem! reader + trevor zegras x fem! reader (platonic)

100 followers celly!

warnings: swearing and taylor swift presale type of stress

notes: in honor of my taylor concert fit coming in today<3. i hope you enjoy reading this short little blurb that basically sums up what a lot of people were feeling while waiting in the eras tour presale queue lol!

gif is not mine

trevor, jack, and i sit together on my couch. our eyes stay glued to the laptop screen that reads ‘2000+ people ahead of you in the queue’.

today is the taylor swift verified fan presale. we were one of the few people who got sent a presale code, and we are treasuring it. out of nervous habit, my leg begins to jump. i feel jack’s hand on my leg, trying to calm my nerves.

“babe, it’s ok. calm down.” he rubs my leg and i send him a deathly glare.

“no it’s not ok!” i snap, throwing my hands up. “there are probably no tickets left and we are waiting here like assholes!”

jack’s eyes widen, shocked at my sudden freak out. he giggles a little before rubbing his thumb against my cheek. “ok, but nothing can change our spot in the queue.”

“jack, respectfully, shut up.” trevor chimes in, hitting him in the head.

we all are dressed from head to toe in taylor swift merch. in result of us all coming from hockey families, in general are very superstitious, so our superstition doesn’t stop at taylor swift.

“oh my god! it moved!” i jump up from the couch, grabbing the laptop that sits on the coffee table in front of us. the screen now says ‘1530 people are ahead of you in the queue’, instead of 2000+.

trevor and jack shuffle in their spots, moving closer to me to get a better view of the laptop. as we begin to move through the queue, alarmingly fast, no one talks. the only thing that fills the room is the noises of trevor biting his nails, my jumpy leg, and jack’s phone.

“holy fuck,” trevor’s mouth stays wide open, in disbelief that there is only 1 person in front of us in the queue. “everyone ready for this?”

jack and i nod in response, too focused to talk. the screen changes and we are entered into the ticket sales screen. i click on any seats i can find, not caring about prices. as i click on the seats and select purchase, it says the tickets were already purchased by another fan. we all start to mutter swears under our breath and trevor even stands up, pacing the living room.

finally, i click on three seats. they in are in the 200’s section and a perfect view of the stage. i quickly click purchases tickets and get through to the payment process.

“someone grab the notepad with the credit card information!” i bark out orders as jack and trevor run around the living room to bring me the yellow notepad. jack throws the pad over to me and i type in the information, not messing up once. after entering everything, i click purchase and wait for the screen to confirm that i have the tickets.

as the screen goes blank, only showing a small circle indicating the purchase is being processed, no one even dares to move. i glance at trevor who has his hands on top of his head, and then jack, who has a nervous expression painted across his face.

i close my eyes and hold my breath, not wanting to watch what was going to happen next, but as both trevor and jack say ‘oh my god’ simultaneously, my eyes shoot open.

“we got the tickets!” i scream, throwing the laptop off my lap and shooting to my feet. we all cheer, hugging each other and jumping up and down. after we get off our adrenaline high, the shock hits us.

“we are seeing taylor swift.”

#hearts4hughes #jack hughes #nhl imagine #hockey blurb #jack hughes imagines #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras x reader #nora's writings 💐

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valentine-writes · 1 year ago

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for you!

「 tws + notes: no tws, fluff, not edited, kinda ooc my bad,, im learnin,,, 」

↳ ft. gwen stacy, hobie brown/spider-punk, miguel o'hara/spider-man 2099, miles morales, and pavitr prabhakar

「 gn! reader, can be platonic or romantic <3 」

author's note: obvi strictly platonic for miles, pav, + gwen but like. anyways!! just practicing writing for them becuz otherwise they will be So OOC for everyone's reqz and i literally would die. highkey struggled a bit but i'm tryin y'all!!! ("trying" but this is unedited ASF) ...eveyone look away from my obvious bias for gwen i heart her. i wanna,, also write for more characters eventually,, sooo,, hc reqs,,, hehehe :3 no full ficz,,, yet-

GWEN STACY headcanons:

▸ she doesn't do friends. not really anymore. oh but like. aside from miles, ur also an exception.

your friendship just kinda. happened?? it was a slow process but eventually y'all got close

▸ you supported her in her band endeavours! u know how knives chau rocks the homemade sex bob-omb merch in scott pilgrim vs the world (sorry 4 being a scott pilgrim fan and referencing it. im battling DEMONS.) THATZ U. biggest supporter for realz!! and she appreciates it so so much :,(

▸ she tries to hold u at arms length initially but ends up missing u too much when ur not around :( you've gotten really close to her over time– something neither of you had expected. but having a friend is refreshing for her. she's secretly always just a little anxious about losing you.

one time, in the middle of your developing friendship, she just kinda... dipped. left you on seen, didn't return your calls– you hadn't seen her in a while. but she came back, apologized profusely (through a lot of stumbled sentences and awkward rambles), and then swore never to do it again. you were... conflicted. so you asked her if anything was wrong and she mustered the courage to be vulnerable with you.

you are probably one of the first people in a long time that she'd actually been able to open up to.

▸ sleepovers where u jus stay up and watch slasher films. idk man i just feel this one in my heart. even if ur not particularly fond of horror, gwen is cool abt it if u need to cover ur eyes or hide under a blanket. y'all are practically screaming at the screen whenever the protagonist makes a dumb choice, acting like the characters can actually hear u

"if you go into that FUCKING BASEMENT I SWEAR–"

"nah– she's doing it. watch. WATCH."

"I CANT"

HOBIE BROWN headcanons:

▸ u are NOT calling this guy hobart. the first time u ever called him that Everyone Else was thrown off. like. no. we gonna stick w/ hobie for this one.

you, however, had the funny little idea of shortening his nickname even further. now sometimes– just on occasion– it's bee.

naturally, he's too cool to care abt what he's called, so he doesn't seem to have too many feelings about your overly cutesy nickname for him.

▸ you know any instruments? great. jam sessions with him. you don't? he'll teach you to play guitar. few ppl are given permission to touch His Guitar... but he can afford to make exceptions.

as he's teaching you, his chest collides against ur back a couple times, his hands guiding yours. he'll gently guide your fingers on the fretboard and yeah it's like– maybe not the most efficient way to learn. but whatever. he's pretty good with helping you figure it out.

▸ if you express wanting a piercing, tattoo or wanting to change up your hair (dying it, cutting it, whatever–) he's immediately gonna be like. "yea? ok. bathroom. right now." he'll help you out. king of diy truly.

and hey, the piercings never get infected, the stick and pokes turn out fine, the haircuts never look that bad, and the hair dye doesn't turn out awful so like. win???

supports you in your impulsive choices– piercings can close, diy tattoos fade, hair can grow– but the joy of self expression iz 4eva!!!!

▸ he lets you steal clothes from him. totally will point it out, but won't be all that bothered by it. HE'S GONNA BE TAKING FROM UR CLOSET TOO you practically share a wardrobe at this point. the others slowly become unable to differentiate which clothes you and hobie own individually. even if your wardrobes are completely different– trust he will find a way to keep a small piece of you with him

MIGUEL O'HARA headcanons:

▸ this man is emotionally distant asf. how did you achieve this relationship with him. answer: no clue!!! (｡･･｡) now that ur tight w/ him i am begging you. for the sake of the multiverse. get this man a therapy consultation RIGHT NEOWWW..... they literally have therapy services available in the spider society hq. if you dont HAUL HIS ASS OVER THERE–

▸ it's really no secret miguel has a soft spot for you. though he is very adamant about the fact that he doesn't– most people know that he's a little less grumpy with you around.

you seem to be one of the only people who can actually make him smile. which is. crazy. the first time he ever laughed at a joke you made you just kinda froze and stared at him, wondering if you had just vividly hallucinated miguel being happy. it was a light chuckle, where he kinda,, put his hand over his mouth and looked away. but it was SHOCKINGGG

▸ if you managed to get along with miguel, you're probably also besties with lyla. miguel however does not enjoy this. mainly because you two gang up on him. a lot. aka whenever ur arguing about anything w/ miguel, lyla is more likely to take your side. for funzies!!! she calls you her favourite– and it's like. man. are you getting along with miguel just for his little hologram assistant? i would but im gon shut my mouth on this one

it's funny how easily u two get along. she has officially attached all his bank info to ur online shopping accs and gaming shit. go wild. he'll never know (he finds out.. eventually.)

▸ it's actually really weird how you affect him. and everyone's noticing. he's constantly overworking himself to preserve the safety of the multiverse and when he's not, he's reminiscing on the past- but you give him something that he hasn't had in a while- an actual break. you pull him away from his responsibilities, from the screens he gazes into for so long, and for once he can relax. even if it's just for a minute

MILES MORALES headcanons:

▸ i saw hcs of a friendship w/ miles like gumball and darwin and i literally cannot get it out of my head. y'all r tight like that!!!! itz canon now. considering miles doesn't have a lotta friends (in his universe, at least) he's glad to have you!!! you're probably one of the people he hangs around the most. if you're somewhere, miles is probably somewhere around you too. and if he is not? he's probably just late. spiderman-ing around nyc probably

▸ his parents have really grown to like you too!!! let's assume u dont pull a gwen and address them by their first names. (i love her so much no shade at all but PLEADYUWEGFEHF that was So White of her) miles always has you over to hang out– which usually means you're invited to have dinner with them. his mom especially is always makin sure ur feeling at home and u got enough on ur plate (she is so sweet i adore her)

miles is constantly hearing: "when are they coming over again? you haven't had them over in a while-" rio hearts u. (and i heart rio.)

▸ STREET ART WITH MILES STREET ART WITH MILES– he def taught u what he learned from his uncle aaron. eventually u found a place you two can spray paint 2gether and u go w/ him whenever u need to destress a bit ^_^ it doesn't matter what ur skill level is in art, he's happy to teach you! sometimes, for practice, he'll even draw you!!! and though he hasn't shown you yet,,, he's been comfortable enough w/ you to leave his sketchbook open when you're around

▸ ALSO!! your hangouts probably have a killer soundtrack. u share a collaborative playlist w/ miles and swap recommendations every so often– so whenever ur both 2gether and jus chilling you've got good music 2 blast which is a combo of both ur tastes!!! he probably loves ur music, even if itz something he doesn't typically listen to. it's jus so you.

▸U ARE HIS CANVAS NOW. if u let him, he'll doodle in pen on your arm. he's always so focused, his eyes fixed on your skin as he doodles all over your forearm and hand. his grip is gentle as he turns your arm, tilting it every so often to make sure it looks right. there is no awkward silence, no pressure to make conversation- the quiet shared is comforting.

eventually he runs out of space and blinks up at you,, almost forgetting who he was drawing on. he'll apologize for getting so carried- but his drawings look amazing.

...and then he realized it was permanent marker and immediately doubled his apologizes.

PAVITR PRABHAKAR headcanons:

▸ im going to put this here and i dont know why specifically this came to mind. but never play just dance with him. you will LOSE. one of thse people who don't have to try to win. but he WILL put his 100% in it and eat you UPPPP.

sorry u can't outdo him </3

like bro those moves AREN'T EVEN PART OF THIS DANCE HOW ARE YOU STILL WINNING???

▸ gym bro but not Insane Gym Bro just.... gym bro. will try to get you to workout with him,, but like. cool if you don't wanna! is the most supportive gym buddy to have though. will always encourage you throughout the entire thing and not even just to get you to push through a set- this boy genuinely jus believes in you so much.

▸ he's constantly talking to you about gayatri. he loves his gf sm. if ur one of those people who Don't Like hearing abt other ppls relationships he'll make an attempt to tone it down

but trust he NEVER. EVER. makes you third wheel them. gayatri also will make sure of this- so now... more than often... if you're tryin' to hang with the both of them- THEY BOTH TRY TO PLAY MATCHMAKER FOR YOU.

LIKE. you can't just be LONELY. they're gonna make sure of it. pav and gaytri number one wingmen,..,, women,,, besties

▸ probably texts u like crazy. the type of guy to send u things throughout the day like "this is so you :]" he loves his bestie (YOU!!!)

sometimes it's like,, a particularly interestingly shaped cloud. maybe a cool bug that landed nearby him. a flower growing out of the pavement cracks.

and then sometimes it's like. this.

"this is you."

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anghraine · 4 months ago

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I'm suffering technological oppression

(do not take this at all seriously, this is absolutely a minor problem)

Okay, so in my earlier time in my PhD program, I saved up and replaced my shitty old HP laptop with a Dell G3 3590. The relevant information about it for this whining session is that it has two main drives: the OS (C:) drive, an SSD with 220 GB, and then an HDD with 930 GB.

This was a pretty good gaming/academia laptop for a couple of years, but at that point, developed some wonky problems including erratic communication with my mouse, very slow processing times, and emitting a terrifying scream from the depths of hell whenever it started up (an alarm to tell me that a fan wasn't working, it turned out). This all developed post-warranty and for various reasons I ended up deciding on replacing it rather than having it fixed, so I saved up again and got an MSI laptop I refer to as "Pherenike" or "the Beast" for reasons I won't get into.

Pherenike only has one (SSD) drive with 800 GB or whatever and is incredibly fast and powerful for everything I've wanted to do, awesome. I wrote basically my entire dissertation on Pherenike, saved every file even remotely related to my research on it, and it was absolutely fantastic for a year. But riiiight after the warranty expired, the laptop's monitor started coming off and it could no longer close, which made it useless as a laptop. Worse still, the hinge situation got progressively worse until the screen was just sort of flopping around unless I set it up in exactly the right position and nobody moved it. It's gotten bad enough that I sent my dad a video about this known MSI issue and sadly left Pherenike with him after backing up its data.

Meanwhile, my university job really needs me to have a working computer of some kind. So I resuscitated the Dell, updated everything, and tried to figure out the old problems. The mouse has been fine thus far (/fingers crossed), the single dysfunctional fan is still causing the alarm but I can get past it with ESC for now, and I realized that part of the reason it had slowed down so badly was that the OS/C: drive, the SSD, was holding basically everything that mattered and was way too full. So I moved documents, pictures, and low-requirement programs over to the HDD/D: drive, and several updates later it's more or less functioning, even if it couldn't keep up with Pherenike (...if Pherenike could stay upright, anyway).

ANYWAY I saw that the cool new BG3 patch had released, but... even after moving every possible non-essential file over to the HDD/D: drive, the Dell's OS/C: SSD only has 53 GB (out of 220) free and I can't download BG3 onto my main drive (the SSD is a basic requirement for it to run properly). Everything else still on my SSD is either trivially tiny or something that came with the system and seems rather important to keeping it running. It seems absurd that this would amount to over 150 GB of the most valuable real estate on the machine (a lot of this seems to be "Alienware Command Center" or something like that, which is spread across a zillion different folders in different parts of C:) but so it is.

So I own the game and I have two computers that meet the specifications and one is the computer I am writing this post on, but I can't actually play it on either of them :(

#/flops dramatically #OH NO i have two laptops sounds stupid but i wanted to get back to bg3 now that i'm free only for pherenike to BETRAY me... :( :(#we'll see if my dad can figure out the hinge/monitor situation #but otherwise i'm stuck with the dell. which is fine. even gw2 sorta runs okay on it. but waaaaah #anghraine babbles #anghraine whines #anghraine's gaming #pretty sure i sold my soul to larian studios #long post

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fivewholeminutes · 1 year ago

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so. wembley.

Once I have finally gathered my wits the words did not want to stop coming. This rambling is long; apologies for that. And for the messed up tenses I hate tenses we only have one past tense why is English like this

No photos/videos yet, they are still not properly checked/deleted/edited by me.

It was. Unsurprisingly. One of the best days of my life. But also, I don't remember much from my life, so don't trust me on this one. (Kidding, it totally WAS one of the best days of my life). And uhh... I have a problem with processing events and emotions, so it still feels like I have seen it on a TV screen instead of, you know, actually, physically having been there? Idk how to explain that, I still have to convince my brain that I've been there. I feel detached from it completely. But!! I!! Have!! Been!! There!!

I woke up so early that foxes were still roaming the streets. Didn't talk much with people around me in the queue (hello anxiety), but they were lovely! I signed the blue flag for iii from me & Lia, got the sticker for Projekt Atlantic, received some bracelets, exchanged some bracelets, put some sea creatures tattoos on people (LIA I FORGOT TO GIVE YOU THE WHALE!!!), slept on a pavement, bought merch for myself and others (I've never had anyone to buy concert merch for before, it's such a nice feeling 🥺).

And queueing for so long was so fucking worth it! Third row, baby!! For the first time in the middle!! (Which was my downfall later, but the pre-show me was not aware of that just yet). I couldn't actually hear HEALTH that well, but I really liked their drummer, he was enjoying himself and his joy was contagious. (I've checked them later though and. Last album, my beloved.) During the break, well, you all know what was happening, I have been liveblogging everything (sorry about that <3). The moment someone in the crowd literally screeched when they saw the new masks on instagram was a blessing, I wouldn't have survived seeing them in new masks without a warning. Also, my blind ass would probably realise 3 songs in that they have different masks, I shit you not. Besides, it was super fun having a mental breakdown here on tumblr with y'all <3

When Espera entered the stage, everything else stopped being of any importance to me. I remember my first thought was "oh yeah, sure, the ladies are dressed up and moving like this and you expect me to focus on anything else that is happening on this stage?". And of course, my second thought was "I GOTTA TAKE PICTURES FOR DARYA". Naturally, I was trying to keep up with everything else anyway. I haven't seen ii all too well though and it makes me sad :( Alas. I've had a good vantage point for the ladies. Yeah. Brain went brrrrr every time I was looking at them. Where was I again-

I was still coughing at that time. I got a terrible coughing fit after literally 3 short screams during HEALTH and my idiot ass has left all the lozenges except one in the hotel room an hour before the door opening. I thought I would have to spend the rest of the night not singing along nor screaming and felt utterly heartbroken for a few minutes, but after my Holy Grail Lozenge (and a LOT of water from the venue's crew) my cough has abandoned me for the duration of the whole ritual (thank you, Sleep). Even though, when Sam told us that we have to sing, my only thought was "I CAN'T FUCKING SING EITHER, MATE". But I did. Oh, I so fucking did. I sung my lungs out and did not cough even ONCE.

But you know. I was exhausted, anxious, surrounded by strangers and had more sugar in my veins than red cells at that point, so I wasn't my best self. I really thought the karaoke was for shits and giggles at first. "Oh yeah, it's The Most Popular Song, let's see how it sounds when 10k people sing it without the singer's help!", you know. Thought it was for the recording the announcements warned us about. But then we sung Granite. Ohhhkay. And then The Love You Want - certainly not a song they would leave for an impropmtu singalong. It was then that I (belatedly) realised that yeah, something really was wrong and so my heart broke again. So many preparations! Their biggest gig so far! Even iii managed to be there! And something had to happen!! Specifically!! To Vessel!! Of all people!! That was just not fair. He totally didn't deserve this. But it's just life and its endless fucking bad surprises for everyone, huh.

I didn't have enough time to collect all the broken pieces of my heart from the sticky floor and mend them after this realisation, because after Vessel joined the singing for the last few lines of TLYW, he dropped to his knees in front of us crying and thanking everyone. That sight is now carved into my brain. This is when I realised the 3rd row was a mistake. The psychic damage it gave me is irrevocable. Do you have those moments that you will never forget? A few seconds of an (usually traumatic) experience that will haunt you forever, replaying in your mind like a broken record? It was a bit like this for me. It wasn't traumatic, mind you, but it was definitely something that made a permanent dent in my heart and a home in my brain. And I wouldn't change it anyway.

Another thing that made me think that I will just fall down and never get up was iii & iv's hug. It was. So full of love and reassurence. Idk, you could just feel that emitting from them, okay? I was standing there thinking "yeah sure, just fucking murder me tonight instead, okay. Should've kept staring at Espera only-". Ah yes. The ladies. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr. Where was I again-

The goosebumps when the whole venue yelled "they won't be missing you" during Nazareth, oh my fucking god. On my previous rituals, in way smaller venues, there's always been a handful of people screaming it. And everyone doing it? Unparalleled feeling. Bordering on the shrimp emotions scale.

The lights were spectacular. I cannot describe how amazing the light show was. I am sending a kiss to each and every light crew member.

Also, Vessel being more emotional during the ritual as a whole. The TLYW moment was the worst for me, but there were many others. (Ascensionism and Bloodsport stabbing me with a rusty knife the most.) I mean, who could've blamed him for the emotions, he would probably be very emotional even without the voice issues. Who wouldn't be!! It was a big night, after all. God, it must have been so difficult for him, I really, really fucking hope the love coming from his bandmates, crew and the crowd was enough to help him focus on the good parts of the evening only. And!! It wasn't even that bad!!! Sure, he lost his voice for a while, but once it was back you could!! Barely!! Hear!! The difference!! I have a whole new level of respect for Vessel because of that. And for staying onstage with us for the songs he couldn't sing. Didn't know I could respect him even more than I already did, but hey. Love being surprised like that. I have seen concerts where the singers were singing way worse live while being completely healthy. Like sure, you could notice he's not using so many uhh, how do you call this in English, vocal ornamentations??? and that his voice is strained, but it was still beautiful. Take care of your voice now though, dude, jfc. Thanks for the sacrifice, much appreciated, but TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF OR SO HELP ME GOD I WILL FUCKING FIND YOU- (kidding, kidding. or am i.) I also liked that he was leaving the more screamy moments in songs for us. Aiming the microphone at us, positive we'll have his back. Like yeah, yeah, other bands do that relatively often, but it's not something they usually do, you know.

I can't vouch for everyone in the crowd, but I sure as fuck did not have a SINGLE thought that the show sucks because of his voice issues. Like it didn't even occur to me. Honest to god. I was shocked when I saw on tumblr that people were leaving? Asking for a refund????????????? I was having the time of my life singing those songs. It was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, probably!! Who can say they karaoked whole 3 songs with the band playing for them live?? Your local karaoke bar could never. (Bonus points, you could hear Espera better bc of that! Yes, I know, you are not supposed to hear backing vocals too loud in general, I'm just saying it was nice hearing them, bc usually I hear them on recordings only.)

Yeah, sure I was disappointed after the show that there was no Euclid, but that's just me, a total whore for Euclid. It's a completely different thing than being a bitch who leaves halfway, because something out of the ordinary has been happening.

Anyways. I would like to wish all the crowdsurfers a very fuck you. Hope you will all step on a lego every day for the rest of your lives <3

Crowdsurfers and constant giving away of water (which I understand, it was terribly hot there and it was needed) were a bit distracting, I missed some things because of the commotion, the drum solo has been disrupted by me getting a (fortunately very light) kick in the mouth and DRUM SOLO IS SACRED. I HOPE THE CROWDSURFER WHO DECIDED TO GO UP IN THAT MOMENT WILL STEP ON 3 LEGOS DAILY. IT'S LITERALLY THE MOST IMPORTANT PART OF THE RITUAL FOR ME AND THEY HAVE RUINED IT. Thanks to another crowdsurfer, I missed the moment the band was throwing stuff into the crowd and I promised Lia I will catch a pick/drumstick for them!!!!!!! I've had a banner for this occassion and all!!!!! And!!!!! For the whole time things were flying from the scene!!!! I have been under someone's legs and ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Side note: Vessel was throwing away his rings. That's so fucking cool, ahh.

All in all, half of the things that happened there, I've learned from tumblr. The announcements about the recording, people leaving, Vessel being covered in runes (I WAS STANDING RIGHT BEFORE HIM AND DIDN'T SEE ANYTHING. A N Y T H I N G. I HATE BEING A BLIND IDIOT), the Espera ladies laughing at iii for not coming to the photo, hell, even Vessel trying to get his attention. I have NO idea what I've been doing back then, it's a blur again lmao. And. The most important thing: Vessel's "thank you". I didn't catch it back then. I don't hear it on my recording. Tbh I couldn't believe y'all for a long while that it really happened (I'm sorry). But it did and you know what? I'm glad the broken pieces of my heart were left on the arena's floor earlier during the show. I don't want them anymore.

I would also like to thank that one security guy in huge headphones who was our warning that another fucking crowdsurfer was coming our way. I hope the headphones guy's pillow is always cold on both sides, his skin clear, his crops- and so on. Our hero <3

There was also a moment during Atlantic (another important moment disrupted. Smh) where 2 security persons dived into the crowd?? I still have no idea what was happening, bc if someone faints for example, they are always brught to the barricade by the crowd and security picks them up, I've never seen security getting into the crowd before. And because of that, people around me were talking loudly during Atlantic. Kill kill murder kill

Still, Projekt Atlantic was a huge success and I am so proud of the organisers!! They're in the same category of lovely people as the big headphones security guy

Sending a kiss to @murderofcrow for this gif 🖤

To sum up. I will forever be grateful for this band. This music has activated the dormant parts of my mind. I am making art again. I am meeting cool people because of them. I have people to talk about it with who are as excited about it as I am. For the first time in ages I really feel alive again. And life is not good, far from it, to be completely honest with you, they haven't magically fixed all my problems, but I do have something that actually fucking works on me. I know Vessel wouldn't agree, but they are saving people. And you all, lovely ST pocket of tumblr motherfuckers who are reading this, you are saving people too.

And, last but not least!! In hot pink, because I can! Thanks to this ritual I could finally meet @vesselsscarlet and @thevenomousseprent in person!!!!!!!!! I love you guys, you are amazing and I can't wait to see you again 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 You've made me feel so loved that weekend and it's something I haven't felt in a while!!

#it was surprisingly hard to write #took a lot of editing and rewriting whole paragraphs and it's still not a proper description of everything i wanted to say #i don't know how to talk about emotions #and i have. a lot of them since wembley #a word of advice: attend concerts. beg for money for them from your family members sleep in tents during rain #or in hostel rooms filled with random people #go for gigs without a place to sleep and spend 4hrs waiting for your bus home in a local mcdonalds #watching drunk guys split their eyebrows on the stairs there #(not now tho now we're boycotting macdonalds #but there are other places open 24/7)#go to gigs alone #but by god. go to them if you are able to and if your health allows you to go #(and yes it is coming from someone with anxiety. i wouldn't travel or sleep in a tent alone for anything else trust me)#it is always worth it. ALWAYS #sleep token

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jokerflecker · 7 months ago

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An eye for an eye

Dirty fic time! Red Eye with Cillian Murhpy fic staring Jackson Rippner and Lisa Reisert.

BEWARE! HUGE TRIGGER WARNINGS!

Its a very dark story, Jackson wants revenge on Lisa for ruining his plan on the plane and he gets it by using her body as he sees fit.

Warning: Non-con, dub-don, humiliation, edging, ruined orgasm, dirty talk, spitting. Its a dark one, please thread carefully if this is not your thing. (AO3 link)

Jackson smirked as he finally watched the light go out at the apartment he had been monitoring. The events on the plane had left him incapacitated for a while, but he was back. The police was dealt with, his throat had healed up. Now it was time to settle the matter. Lisa Reistert needed to learn that he was not to be trifled with, that she had messed with the wrong person.

He know how he was going to do it, too. She was home quite a lot these days. From what he found out, she quit her job at the hotel and got a job as a callcenter worker, so she could work from home. Her talents were wasted, selling crap to people over the phone, but he took great delight in how scared she was to leave her house. She had her groceries delivered, the occasional take out food. But overall the girl no longer left home unless she absolutely had to. On top of that he had noticed how late she stayed up at night. Sometimes her lights didn’t go off until it started to become dawn again. That meant she went to sleep really late, or she didn’t sleep at all. He could imagine she’d become scared of the dark after what he put her through.

A few days after Jackson stalked her apartment one last time, Lisa sat at her desk again with a sigh. It was a boring Tuesday night and she had no idea what to do with herself. She hadn’t left the house for eleven days straight, which was a personal record for her. She warmed up some left over Chinese and then fired up her Playstation 5. Since she spent so much time at home these days, she picked up a new hobby. Videogames. She could pour all her pain and frustration out on some poor level boss, cussing and swearing like a sailor in the process.

As she ate, she continued playing her game, her eyes fixated on the screen and on the progress of her game. She didn’t even hear her front door being opened and closed. Not until it was too late. She saw a figure sauntering inside casually and just when she was about to shout her head off, he showed her the small gun he was holding. “Hush, Lisa….I’ve come to visit..” he said tauntingly with a cruel glint of his eyes, sounding as if he was doing her a favor.

The gesture caused the scream to stick in her throat and not come out, she was frozen in place as she felt cold sweat break out all over her body. Her pajamas started to brush her skin, like a shower curtain that stuck to your body uncomfortably and cold. “What are you doing here, Jackson?” she whispered, wondering who he was threatening to hurt this time.

“I’m here for you, I feel like we have…” he stated, as if he was an old friend that came along. He brought his hands to his face, pretending to think it over. “Unfinished business. Yeah, that’s it. We have unfinished business…”

Lisa’s eyes darted around the apartment, looking for anything that could be used as a weapon against him, but she didn’t see anything. Suddenly she noticed there wasn’t a single pen lying around.

“I took care of that. I figured you didn’t want to be as naughty as last time..” he mused, raising a brow at her as if she was willful child. “How…how did you even get in here?” With a shit-eating grin, he showed her that he had a key. “Stole it. Got the superintendent to let me in the first time, pretended to be your long lost brother..” he explained, getting a sense of pleasure out of telling her his secrets. “Then I took your spare key. You didn’t need it, did you? You don’t get a lot of visitors…”

The words caused her to lower her gaze. She couldn’t even remember the last time she saw a friend or family member. “Who is it?” she asked through gritted teeth, making him tilt his head in confusion. “Who is what? What is your confused little head even talking about?”

“Nobody. Its just you and me this time.” She nodded a sigh of relief, knowing he’d rub her face in it if this wasn’t the case. Shestared at her TV-screen and suddenly jumped up with a growl.

“Goddamnit! You happy now? You made me lose my echoes!”

He stepped closer, putting his hand on his hip and leaning his head forward, as if he misheard. “I did…what?” he asked in an eerie tone.

“My blood echoes! I’m in the Research Hall and you made me lose a ton of bloodechoes! I could have levelled with that..”

“Have you lost your goddamn mind?” he demanded to know, but then walked closer, so he could see what she was doing on TV. He frowned as he saw the gruesome game that she was playing? “What the fuck is this?”

“Bloodborne,” she answered and sounded empty, away. As if she wasn’t even aware of what was happening anymore.

“You play videogames now?” he asked in a condescending tone. She glared at him. “What about it?”

He chuckled and sat down next to her, stroking a lock of hair out of her face. She made an annoyed sound when he did, her eyes fixated on the TV. For a moment, it seemed as if he was going to choke her out right on the spot.

“Turn the game off, Leese. We need to talk,” he said huskily. She didn’t respond and it made him uneasy. Was this how little power he had over her? Was he wrong? After a few moments, he took the controller out of her hands and she started to cry. As if she only now understood what was going to happen.

“Ssh, hey, no worries..” he soothed her and caressed her hair. “You’re going to kill me..” she softly said as she eyed him in fear. He chuckled some, delighting in seeing her so afraid. It caused a rush to go through his body.

“I’m not going to kill you, Leese. What I have planned is fun!” he said with eerie eyes. Lisa eyed him wearily. “What? Fun?”

He made himself comfortable and pulled her onto his chest, as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend. She almost looked like she enjoyed having someone touch her kindly. “Sure! You see, I’ve been monitoring you…it’s been pretty easy, since you rarely leave the house anymore..,” he started to explain, causing her to sniffle some more.

“I noticed how scared you are these days. Scared of the world. Which is a nice revenge, since you fucked up my life..” he stated as his hand travelled up and down her upper leg. When he reached her knee, he started to squeeze it, until she whimpered in pain.

“But the police…they took you..” she said, shaking her head still in disbelief. He scoffed and shot her his most charming smile. “Leese…we both know they could never hold me. You think I don’t have people helping me out? I was out within a fucking month. And I’ve been planning this since then.” He brought his face close to hers and inhaled her scent. “You smell so fucking good,” he rumbled.

“What do you want?” Lisa asked, refusing to look at him.

“See, you told me some things..personal things. About your love life.” As he spoke, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and caressed the scar. She winced as she suspected that he was going to force himself on her. He eyed her and tsked, putting his gun on the table so it was out of reach for him.

“What do you think of me? Oh no, that’s not what I want, Leese. See, what I want…” he pulled her closer to him. “What I want is for you to admit you need me to.”

She looked at him and frowned. “What do you mean? What do you mean I need you to?” she demanded to know. Jackson chuckled. “Remember I rough I was on you? In that bathroom of the plane?”

She nodded, she saw that scene play in her mind every night when she closed her eyes.

“I saw you. I saw the real you. I saw the need in your eyes and your fear of asking for it. See, all women can be whores, they just need..” he mused as his hand slid into her pajama jacket. He massaged her breast and started to twist and pinch her nipple. Lisa’s jaw dropped and she moaned softly. “They just need a little push,” he whispered and started to suck a spot on her neck.

Lisa moaned louder and bit his shoulder, to stifle her moan. Her cheeks were red in shame and she lowered her gaze. Jackson pulled back with a smirk, eyeing her up and down. “See, Leese? Almost made you cream in your panties, by just a little kiss..”

“What if I say no?”

Jackson shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not that guy. If you say no, I’ll go home. You stay here. And you waste away.” The casualty of his tone of voice made her look up at him. “You’re wasting away,” he told her in all seriousness now. “You’re scared of the world and of what it can do to you,” he said softly, his words not more than a whisper. “I am giving you the option to completely fall apart by my hand..I’ll shatter every little bit of willpower you have. That'll give me the closer I need and it will bring out your little inner slut.”

She stared at him and was still flustered. “What makes you think I want it? That I enjoyed it?” she asked in a shaky voice. He threw his head back and laughed. “Oh please…every woman secretly wants to be dominated by a strong, dominating male. You’re just too timid to tell us. Why else would you keep a dildo by your bed? A dragon’s tail, that’s a nice detail, Leese. You little freak.” His eyebrows wiggled as he sent her a toothy grin.

So he was in here, she thought. He’d been in here in those few times she wasn’t and got to know her. Intimately. “And?” she asked as if she didn’t care that he saw it. He brought his face close to hers, pushing his nose against her cheek. “And it smells intoxicating..” he whispered and laughed when she pushed him off with a disgusted sound. “Oh all high and mighty, are we? Let me work my magic, Leese. It will give you your life back.”

“And why are you so prone on doing that for me, huh? Don’t you wanna see me miserable?” she asked as she stood up and started to pace around. He smirked, sitting back comfortably on the couch again with a shrug. “Oh, there’s something in it for me too. I get to see you crumble, fall apart. I get to break you under my boot and watch your little mind shatter because of me. It will give me the closure I need. I do warn you..” as he spoke he took out a card with his address and telephone number, putting it on her table. “Once I’m done with you, you might come back for more.”

She scoffed, shaking her head as she paced back and forth in front of the couch. Meanwhile Jackson was watching her like a hawk, as she was prey and he was ready to pounce.

“You can’t possibly know that I like being…”

“Manhandled?”

“Shut up! Like I said, you can’t possibly know that!”

He grinned at her and opened up his phone, pulling up a blog and showing it to her. “Is this not your Tumblr account? Subgirl800? You write a lot of naughty stories, don’t you?”

Lisa gasped and averted her eyes. The game was up, she couldn’t possibly deny that she craved to be treated exactly how he wanted to treat her. “What do I do?”

“Take a fucking shower, you reek,” he said with a hint of disgust on his face. “Then come back out to the bedroom and we’ll begin.”

Lisa did as she was told, she took a shower and came into the bedroom in a pink babydoll dress. She acted a little awkward and coy, fidgeting with her hands.

Jackson was laying on her bed, reading her diary and rubbing himself over the fabric of his pants. Seeing it made her bow her head. “No. Look at me. Is this not one of your stories? Well?”

She nodded as she glanced at him through her eyelashes. He eyed the dress that she was wearing and gestured at it. “Take it off. The fuck you think this is, you being cute? Show me how fucking wet you are.”

The woman swallowed hard as he slid out of her dress and stepped closer to him, revealing that she had no underwear on underneath. “You can’t talk to me that way..” she weakly tried. Jackson pulled her closer and inspected her breasts.

“Tell you what..” he said huskily, licking at her nipples. Lisa let her head fall back with small moans. “I’ll make a deal with ya..” another lick, another moan. “I perform a little test…” A lick and another moan. “Just a small one.” A lick again. “And if you pass, I’ll treat you real nice from now on. But if you don’t, then I’ll keep talking like this.”

He held up two fingers, wiggling them in her face before he played with her folds lightly. Lisa gasped, it has been a while since she was touched there. Suddenly he slid them inside of her and smirked. “Fuck, you're wet,” he murmured, planting kisses on her neck. Lisa's jaw dropped as she felt the sensation, but did her best to remain stoic. “What test?” she asked breathlessly.

“I'm going to tell you that you're flith, that you're a fucking hole that deserves to be fucked and nothing else..” he said and inspected her face really close. “Oh see...you failed.” Lisa whimpered and did her best not to break. “I dont like that talk!” she insisted, making Jackson chuckle again. “Then why did you tighten up?” he asked her and smirked when he saw her avert her eyes. “That's right.” He keeps whispering. “See you can act high and mightly all you want but this little cunt betrays you..”

He pulls his fingers out and smirks as he sees the mess you made on them. “Get ony our knees, Lisa.” he tells her with an eerie stare. Lisa nods and does so and he stuffs his smeared fingers in her mouth. At first she struggles, but soon she stays docile. “I want you to focus on the taste, on your taste..” he muses as he starts to rub her clit with his other hand. Lisa moans as her body shudders in need. “And I need you to think about how you frustrated me.” He rubs it and stops right before she's able to climax. She whimpers sadly. “Suck them dry,” he orders and waits a few moments, before edging her again. As her jaw drops right when he pulls back, he pulls his fingers from her mouth and smears them on her cheek, smirking. She is a panting mess and tries to stay calm.

“Look at that...you want it, don't you?” he asked, smirking down at her. She panted heavily as she looked up at him, her cheeks smeared and her eyelids heavy. Jackson peeled his clothes off as she sat there on her knees, close to crying in frustration. But he had all the time in the world, peeling of layer after layer, while staring her down. “You're not so full of fight anymore, are you? Quite eager to just sit there and take it, actually.”

Lisa averted her eyes, blushing heavily. “Look at me,” Jackson demanded. “Look up and face the truth. You're a slut, Lisa. Stop trying to hide it.”

“I'm a slut..” she whispered. Jackson yanked her up and threw her on her bed, holding her down by her neck. He positioned himself behind her and slid right into her with a groan. “Fuck, that's one wet little pussy, Leese...”

Lisa moans louder and louder as he takes on a firm and steady pace. She can feel his length stretch her out and hitting her in all the right spots. When she is about to go over, he pulls back with a smirk and chuckles as he sees her squirm in need.

“Please..please I need more..” she pleaded, as he firmly kept her in place with his hand. “Oh I know you do, babygirl..” he cooed. “But I want a little taste first.”

He releases her neck and finds her toy. “Lay on your back and hold your legs. Show me your needy slit,” he ordered, as he showed her the dragon dildo. The toy was red and black, thick and covered in bumps and ridges, for extra pleasure.

Lisa did as she was told, showing him her wet folds. Jackson chuckled and tapped the head of the toy against her clit lightly, making her moan. “You like that huh...having your needy clit teased..I bet you edge yourself for days on end just so you can suffer, you needy whore.”

Lisa bit her lip and swallowed hard, revealing the truth of his words.

Jackson stuffed her with the toy, holding it firmly in place with one hand, as the thumb of his other crew lazy circles around her clit. He brought his face close and tickled the nub with his his tongue, making her moan and whimper. “Fuck..” he muttered, then latched onto her clit like a starved man, sucking it and lavishing it in his saliva. When she got close to coming, he pulled back and grabbed the end of the toy, fucking her pussy with it. As she got close to coming from that, he attacked her clit again with his mouth.

“Please please, I can't anymore, please..” she stammered, her body jerking and spasming in need.

He chuckled and put his phone in the bookcase that was across from her bed, he put it on record and smirked at her. “it's time for the grand finale.”

He laid down on the bed and moved her so that she was facing the camera, her back to him. He pushed her onto his cock, making her moan in need. “Now, you're gonna sit here and stay still,” he murmured in her ear. She nodded and did her best, but she wanted to ride his cock to completion desperately.

Jackson reached round and started to rub her clit, drawing circles around it with his fingers lazily, flicking it and grazing it with his digits any time she got close to a peak. It didnt take long to turn her into a sobbing, begging mess. “Please please, I'll do anything, just let me come, anything,” she whimpered, tears of frustration pouring out of her eyes.

“Say it, Leese. Say what I wanna hear.” he murmured in her ear. “I'm nothing, I'm a worthless slut, please, please ruin me!” she begged him pathetically. He grinned and suddenly rubbed her clit with fervor, coaxing her into the orgasm she was chasing so desperately, his cock still buried deep within her.

Her jaw dropped as she felt herself finally being pushed over the edge but her eyes snapped open when he pulled his fingers away too early. Her pussy twitched and she cried out in frustration when she realized that he had ruined her orgasm. He grabbed her hips and started to slam her up and down his cock, grunting and groaning.

“Thats it! That's the desperate little pussy I want to fuck! Twitching around me in need, while I force you into ruin. Still think you got the better of me, you fucking slut? Huh? Do you?” he muttered into her ear heatedly as she could do nothing else but take his cock.

Jackson growled as he felt her clench around his cock hard as he mercilessly fucked her, making her cry out at all this forced pleasure on her already battered, punished slit. He shot roped of thick warm cum inside of her and threw her aside.

She laid there, ruined, crying and holding her clit, as if she was trying to protect it from more abuse. He stuffed her mouth full with his cock. “Clean me!” he growled and fucked her mouth, until she cried more.

He smugly looked down at her as he pulled back, causing her to gasp for air and cry harder. He leaned down and spat in her face, before he slapped her.

Lisa could do nothing against it, but cry and squirm, her body still recovering from what he just put her through.

Jackson turned off the camera on his phone, sent her the video of what he just did to her and lazily dressed himself.

“Now Leese, this was a little payback, you ruined my plan, I ruin your little wet whore pussy. But now we're even. And I could tell that you enjoyed that,” he said with a smug chuckle, pulling out a business card. He took a pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote his address on the back. “If you want me to really make you come next time, then you can come over in a day or two, when you recovered and you really start to feel needy.”

He threw the businesscard on the bed, next to her bed, where she was still crying heavily. He smirked, picked up his gun and left the house.

Three days later, his doorbell rang. When he went to open the door, he grinned wickedly.

“Nice to see you, Lisa.”

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