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abruisedmuse · 11 months

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QUESTION...?

Song analysis

Kinda wild that this is the first thing I'm talking in length about since it's not my usual and I don't talk song analysis I typically write fanfic and make edits when creative but this won't leave my head so here we are.

Things to note before we jump in:

In Taylor's speech last night when she said she was the happiest she's been in all aspects of her life, she referred to this song as it being a happy memory. Being the lyrics it didn't click unless it refers to someone close to her now. The person who fits this is Matty.

Question...? Is in the pre-show playlist for The 1975. An odd choice if you ask me being unless you listen to Midnights you know it. From my knowledge Preshow playlists usually contain top charting hits, released singles etc. To me, this feels like Matty kinda showing off that she wrote a song about him. Sorry if there's any typos I did this before coffee and I didn't have my glasses on lmao. If you don't like Matty that's fine, then this post isn't for you and you can keep on scrolling.

I cut off the intro on accident, it says "I remember". That could be just setting up the song stating this deals with the past. Or it's a response to the line in 'About you' by The 1975 where Matty sings, "Do you think I have forgotten. She says no I haven't, I remember.

The first line in the verse is giving two characters: Taylor, the good girl. Matty, the sad boy. Taylor went to two shows in 2014 for The 1975. One in LA and one in NY. I'm going with NY for this setting. The one thing going on was that they hooked up. Possibly seeing each other albeit extremely briefly.

Regardless of what it was it impacted her life greatly. He painted her nights a color she's been looking for ever since. Ever since Matty left her she's been trying to chase that feeling. Kinda ties into her speech last night too because she finally found it. After she had to deal with one thing after another. Other relationships, media, pandemic. Basically all the hurdles in her life that brought them back together. (It could also be in reference to their past situationship and what caused the fallout. )

Taylor wants to talk. She has questions about the past and wants to clear the air.

I think this took place when they were all hanging out and everyone was just shocked when it happened. They kissed around friends and were teased about it. But the friends in question gave an approval by clapping. These were super close friends who wouldn't tell any media outlets so I'm thinking like Selena, George, Ross, Adam. Etc. People who won't talk but I could see teasing tf out of them but being supportive. I don't remember which show Karlie was at which is why I didn't say her. Anyway, she's now asking him and what he did as in do you remember? Cause I do. And then she continues with her questions.

Now, Matty was using alot of drugs around here so it's possible he remembered but not everything. Or it's possible he did and wants to forget that he left in middle of night. Because as soon she asks that he goes oh. The oh is him being like ah fuck. So then Taylor shoots back three consecutive questions. Whatever happened in the past I think was her call for whatever reason maybe he didn't want to public or be in a relationship. And because she knows herself, the feelings are getting too much, she's getting this strong connection and feelings she has to end it. And Does it bother him he didn't fight for it? Does it bother him the way it does her? Does he miss her? He seems taken aback and she's saying well its just a question. A hypothetical one. He's doubting that.

This is about the Brit awards and Calvin. Stay with me. Half-moon eyes elude to someone on drugs, i.e., Matty. Peep the last line line the image "but you were on somethin". indiciating the half-moon eyes are not from weed but something harder. The bad surprise is Calvin. And this is the moment Matty knew he fucked up because he had still feelings. He was jealous cause the brit awards was when Taylor and Calvin met and as we all know. The dude is a dickhead lol.

Lots of drinking, no one should be surprised by with Matty. Idk about the politics and gender roles. It's clearly about Matty. Since hes more of an activist than Taylor and has songs about politics, has worn skirts, make up, kisses guy. It's also kinda about Taylor. Idk love to heard thoughts. I know it my bones it connects. Could also be in connection with the fact that a couple months after the awards Matty says dating Taylor would be emasculating. I think he said it out of anger. Anger at himself for not being with her, jealous of Calvin, and pissed shes dating the said dickhead. Anyway back to the awards time, they are fighting. Matty is unhappy with her talking to Calvin. And she probably asks him again what he wants. He doesn't know but he sure as hell doesn't want her with that guy.

The second best after that meteor strike is going back to the first verse. About the color she's searched for. I said it deeply impacted her. This indicates it did for the both of them. After the impact of her, Taylor. Has anyone even come close to the intense feelings they shared in a short time? The her in question I feel like it depends on when this song was written. However if we take the scene that is set for us and the time frame given, it's probably Halsey. Otherwise if it was written in 2021/2022 then it could be FKA Twigs. Whichever her, there's no hate there. She's happy for him. Truly. Either one suits him better, however she can't help but wonder...

Then the chorus repeats. Back to her speech, the reason she is saying this is a happy memory for her. Is because now it is. Her thoughts are filled with what could have happened? That color she's been searching for, the missing piece, it's found again. It's come back to her. Now she can look back, laugh, and think of it as happy. This is why everything in her life finally feels like it makes sense.

feel free to add on if you like. This is just my initial thoughts breaking down Question..? after last night

Tagging: @musicjunkie29 @deeenerys17 @hauntedromantics @littleeyelidsflutter (Ya'll seemed excited by the Musicjunkie's post so I thought of you all)

#taylor swift #matty healy #the 1975 #midnights #midnights 3am edition #question...?#1989 #taylor x matty #maylor #mattay #song analysis #lyrics

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swiftie-fox · 11 months

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You cannot tell me the 1975's "About You" and Taylor's "Question...?" are not in response to each other. Especially since Healy has said they worked on songs together for Midnights.

#taylor swift #matty healy #taylor x matty #the 1975 #swifties

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allylikethecat · 1 year

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I am so scared for Tay's image If its true we can't defend her honour

I think I might be the only person that is excited they might be dating 😂 As long as Taylor is happy and as long as Matty is happy I think that's all that matters!

Plus- this isn't the first time they have been linked together. Taylor and Matty have known each other for 10ish years, meaning Taylor was literally around for all of the ~bad times~ she knows what she is getting into if they really are together. Honestly, I feel bad for Matty if they are together, he is for sure going to get ripped apart a lot more than she is.

Regardless, I am a HUGE fan of both Taylor Swift and The 1975 and have been for a stupid long time. One of my core memories is going to Target with my Mom to buy the Fearless CD the day it came out and driving around in the car together so that we could listen to it and as a very active tumblr girl in 2013/2014/2015 I couldn't figure out if I wanted to be the Robbers Girl or Matty when that video came out.

Though- they could also be just friends and laughing at all of this and us right now. Who knows maybe they're even seeing THIS since both have been known to lurk tumblr. 👀

#ask ally #anon ask #taylor x matty #allylikethecat

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wordsarelife · 2 months

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—gorgeous

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

summary: being in love with your best friend might be a bad idea, but drowning your sorrows in alcohol might be your worst one yet

warnings: underage drinking, partying, no usage of y/n, a few suggestive remarks

notes: this is my official entry for the hogmarch challenge of @thatdammchickennugget using prompt 2: “are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?”

the night was rushing fast away in front of your eyes, easy chatter, at the start of the party, quickly turning into drunken singing and shouting along to the music that was drowning out everything else.

the dim blue light that was shining through the ravenclaw common room did it‘s best to worsen the drunken state many of your classmates were in.

mattheo was sitting on a couch, wearing his usual cool demeanour and being surrounded by his friends. they were known for getting a bit drunk, but never making an embarrassment out of themselves through loud singing or obnoxious dancing.

and normally you were known for sitting right next to them and doing the same.

even though it was dark, you could see mattheo's head turn and his eyes searching the crowd for you. you had excused yourself to get something to drink. that had been over ten minutes ago and you were really debating to just go to bed.

the night had turned out differently than you had expected and you weren't really in the mood to act like it hadn't.

"someone is looking for you" a voice behind you said and you turned around startled.

"harry" you said relieved when you recognized the boy.

it wasn't like the two of you were friends, after all you were coming from vastly different groups, but since a project in astronomy you had become acquaintances, sometimes sharing a few nice words at parties.

"why are you standing here all alone? why aren't you with your friends?"

"why aren't you?" you shot back, making harry quirk an eyebrow.

"well played" he complimented and smiled "i was trying to get away from dean and ginny making out"

"ouch" it wasn't really a well known fact that harry fancied ginny, but you had noticed it right away a few parties ago and he had been able to read you well enough to know that you had known.

"it's alright" he shrugged "i just don't want to sit next to it"

"who would?" you asked sarcastically as you eyes fell on the couple, hungrily making out on the couch, successfully pushing seamus off.

it seemed that a few people felt way too comfortable in the ravenclaw common room.

"oi, it's no fun with these two" seamus complained, sympathetically hitting harry's shoulder on the way to the table with the drinks.

"back to you" harry grinned, seemingly uncomfortable with talking about his secret crush on ginny weasley more than necessary "why are you avoiding riddle? i thought you two were the best of friends"

"i'm not avoiding him" you said defensively, taking a big gulp from the vodka in your cup to prevent yourself from saying any more.

harry took a moment to study your facial expression, before he sighed in a tone that almost made you tear up "oh"

"no" you shook your head "no 'oh', stop looking at me like that, potter"

harry laughed dryly "too late" he shrugged "so, being the best of friends is your actual problem, huh?"

you didn't answer his question, but took another sip from the cup. immediately regretting it.

harry cringed "if you continue drinking at that rate you won't be able to speak a coherent sentence in a few minutes"

"maybe i don't want to speak coherent sentences anymore"

"so we're already at the point of drowning our sorrows in alcohol?" he raised his cup and took a sip "no, you're right, it doesn't look like you're unluckily in love with riddle at all"

you sighed "okay, fine, you're obviously smarter than you look" you rolled your eyes.

"well, ouch" harry said offended, but you could see a hint of mischief in his eyes. "am i allowed to join your little club of self-pity?"

"sure" you nodded "the more the merrier i guess"

"there's no better way to spend a party than drown yourself in self-pity with the girl you're kind of on good terms with"

"yeah, totally" you grinned "but i think if we continue talking at that rate we will be able to call each other friends in an hour"

"deal" harry laughed, before he grabbed the bottle of vodka on the table behind you, filling both your own and his cup back up. he put the bottle back and held his cup in your direction "to unrequited love" he said dramatically.

you grimaced, but raised your cup to clink against his. "to unrequited love" you toasted "and unexpected friendships" you added.

"yeah that too" he smiled before you both took a big sip from your cups.

"vodka is fucking disgusting" you complained and harry nodded, making a face that would allow the assumption that he had been thinking the same thing.

"at least it does the trick"

you and harry spend the next hour recklessly sipping vodka, while you were telling each other ridiculous stories. the vodka had a quicker effect than either of you had thought, making the both of you dance and refer to each other as friends sooner than you had predicted.

just as 'dancing queen' began to play and you were twirling on the dancefloor, did you notice the empty spot on the couch occupied by your friends. there was only one of them missing. before it could really register in your brain who exactly was missing, a voice rang out next to you.

"make room, potter" you and harry both turned around, looking surprised at the arrival of mattheo riddle.

"matty" you laughed after the few seconds it had taken you to recognize your best friend.

mattheo's arm darted to the side, catching you before you could fall to the ground. you had made the attempt to hug him, missing his body by a few feet. you had been closer to hugging cormac mclaggen who was standing off to the side.

"there you are" mattheo noted, gently taking your cup out of your hand, sniffing the contents and grimacing at the strong sent of vodka, mixed with a bit of orange juice.

"do you want some?" you slurred, grinning up at the boy, who's arm was still holding you steady.

"how many of these has she had?" mattheo asked harry, thinking he would be a little less wasted than you.

"like thirty-four thousand?" harry answered before him and you broke into simultaneous laughter.

"had to have been a lot" mattheo muttered, noticing the way you were laughing with the chosen one, gripping his arm, like you were old friends.

he let go of you, taking harry's cup as well, emptying the both into the bucket under the table with the drinks. he came back right in time to witness you saying goodbye to harry with a dramatic hug, kissing both his cheeks and lastly his forehead.

"yeah, that's enough" mattheo said, dragging your body back against his when he noticed you going in to plant more kisses on harry's face. he looked bad enough, the red lipstick you were wearing leaving marks all over his face.

harry smiled before he waved at you and turned around, stumbling through the crowd of students probably in search of his redheaded best friend.

mattheo rolled his eyes. "you're absolutely wasted, darling"

you turned around to look at him and unconsciously bring a bit of space between the both of you "is it that obvious?" you asked.

mattheo watched with a smirk, how you tried to balance yourself out, to just be able to stand. your arm ended up stabilizing your own hip and you almost fell full on to the side, when you moved your leg.

"not really" mattheo grinned "come on, baby" he softly gripped your waist on either side, guiding you in the direction of your friends. you closed your eyes, leaning your head against his shoulder, letting him walk you through the room willingly.

"have i ever told you how gorgeous you are?"

"i am?" he asked laughing.

"so gorgeous that it hurts"

"you're flattering me" he smiled, nudging your arm. "but maybe you should concentrate more on walking in the right direction"

he was right. it was taking you way too long to cross the room, thanks to your inability to still walk in a straight line, even with his help.

"hey" mattheo greeted, making the eyes of his friends turn on him. "i'm bringing her to bed"

"already?" enzo asked skeptically, checking his watch "it's only two a.m."

"hey guys!" you greeted when your eyes snapped open. you bend forward, plastering a kiss onto enzo’s cheek. "how the party you doing? good? good!" you smiled, nodding as your eyes fell closed, as you leaned back onto mattheo again.

"what?" theo laughed at your slurred words that had not made the slightest bit of sense.

"yeah, i get it now" enzo nodded understandingly, trying to rub your lipstick off his cheek.

"she's only been gone for an hour" blaise said unbelievingly "how did she get that drunk?"

"she's had approximately like more than a thousand vodka-o's according to potter" mattheo chuckled.

"potter?" draco repeated disgustingly "what has she been doing with potter?"

"harry and i are best friends" you gushed, giving draco an angry look. he rolled his eyes in annoyance, but without questioning your answer.

"let's not get ahead of ourselves, love" mattheo argued, a bit of jealousy in his voice.

"you don't have to be jealous" you softly touched his cheek "you know i love you more than anyone, honey"

blaise let out a loud whistling noise "seems likes she's your girl after all, riddle"

"oh shut up" mattheo said at the same time as you said "of course"

"better bring her to bed now" theo advised and you could feel mattheo nod next to you.

"i'll be back in a few minutes" mattheo promised, as he softly turned you around to be able to walk you in the direction of the door.

"no he won't" you slurred, turning your head in the direction your friends, gripping mattheo's neck and winking at them.

enzo hollored and theo laughed, while blaise repeated the whisteling.

"cheers to that" even draco was amused about you, as he raised his cup in your direction.

"i'll be back" mattheo assured again, pushing you forward.

"no you won't" theo shook his head, smirking as he watched his friend roll his eyes and gently guide you through the crowd.

"how about a shot of tequila?" you suggested to mattheo, perfectly awake again. there was no hint of the tiredness that had consumed your body only a few minutes ago.

maybe it was the alcohol or maybe it was the sound of a familiar voice indicating the beginning of the song 'whatta man' by salt-n-pepa, which was now booming through the boxes.

"no, no more alcohol" mattheo shook his head, suddenly being the kind of responsible he had never seen himself to become.

"oh my god!" you gushed when you finally reconized the song "that's my favorite song! let us dance, matty!"

he was distracted by two hufflepuff boys almost running into him, when you saw the perfect opportunity to escape his hold. stupidly enough, that was the only thing you could see, as you had promptly gotten lost in the crowd of people.

mattheo was at your side only a second after, making you realize that you had in fact just turned around, without moving more than a feet away from him.

"if you don't come with me on your own accord, i'll have to carry you" mattheo warned.

you giggled, clasping your hands around his biceps "let us dance" you pleaded, completely ignoring what he had said.

mattheo furrowed his eyebrows, still waiting for you to reply to what he had said, but you were busy watching a few ravenclaws and hufflepuffs downing shots. "or we could down some shots" you mumbled.

mattheo took that as answer enough, clasping one of his hands around your forearm and the other around your leg, as he bend down to throw you over his shoulder.

"matty" you protested, as he began to walk you out of the common room. you gave up arguing and continued to sing along to the chorus of 'whatta man' as mattheo walked you both through the crowd of people.

as soon as the door to the ravenclaw common room fell close behind the two of you, you slumped down on mattheo's shoulder, the tiredness hitting you immediately.

"do you want to walk on your own now, baby?" mattheo asked, but he could feel you shake your head. "can you use you words?" he was growing a bit concerned at your sudden mood shift, trying to make sure that you were still somewhat alright.

"no" you pouted "i don't want to use my words"

"you just did"

"i never let a man tell me what to do" you slurred and mattheo had to chuckle.

"clearly" he muttered under his breath.

he walked through the halls of the castle quickly, making sure that you wouldn't be discovered by one of the teachers. you would probably kill him if one of them saw you like this. you never really got that drunk often, so it was on mattheo to make sure that no one found out about it now.

he should've searched for you immediately after you hadn't come back. he shouldn't have waited an hour. but he was scared of annoying you. you were always together and he had taken your absence as a sign for you needing some space.

if he could, he would follow you around all the time, preferably holding your hand while doing so. maybe in another universe you would want him to do that.

"when are we there?" you asked, your hand wandering across his shoulder, before it finally found it's place in his hair, gripping it tightly.

"any second now" mattheo was trying to make sure not to shake your body too much, as he quickly walked down the steps to the dungeon. he wouldn't want you to throw up. "do you feel sick, sweetheart?"

"no" you muttered "i just want to sleep"

"i know, i know" mattheo patted the back of your leg "we're almost at the door"

he hadn't lied. it only took a few more seconds, before he whispered the password and the door to the slytherin common room opened, revealing the familiar green lighting as he walked you both inside. he crossed the room, climbing the stairs to your dorm.

he took his time to set you down on your bed, making sure that no quick movement could make you feel uncomfortable. he unfolded your blanket, spreading it across your body.

he was ready to leave the room, before you called him back.

"matty" you cried and he perked up, walking back to the bed. you threw the blanket to the side dramatically, revealing your trousers and shirt. "i can't sleep like this"

"oh" mattheo said dumbfounded "do you want me to take them off?" he asked slowly, gripping the waistband of your trousers.

"are you speaking parsletongue or am i really that drunk?" you giggled at the joke with your eyes still closed.

"you're really that drunk" mattheo answered, rolling his eyes at your unseriousness "and it's not funny"

"it's a bit funny" you opened your eyes and giggled at his facial expression "why are you so serious, matty?"

"i should've kept an eye on you" he answered "you don't like to be drunk"

"i can make my own decisions" you argued, crossing your arms.

"obviously" mattheo nodded "should i take them off?" he repeated his question from earlier, but the tone of his voice made you sober up immediately, well at least a bit.

"are you really angry at me right now?" you asked surprised.

"i had to leave the party to bring you to bed"

"that's not the reason you're angry" you said, knowing him well enough to see through his lie.

"okay, fine" he sat down on the bed and you sat up, drawing your knees to your chest and hugging them with your arms. "maybe i'm a bit angry that you would rather spend your evening getting drunk with potter than speaking to me"

"matty"

"no, it's fine" he shook his head "i shouldn't be angry about how you choose to spend your time. goodnight" he stood up from the bed, walking to the door quickly, so voice rang out before he was able to twist the doorknob.

"can you please just stay?" you asked and he turned around in surprise.

"what?"

"maybe i chose to spend time with harry, but i'm choosing to spend the night with you. isn't that more important?"

"that's not how it works"

"okay, fine" you said, tired of arguing "do you want to know the truth? spending time with you is super hard while i'm madly in love with you" even though you were a bit more sober than before, he could still recognize the drunkness in your voice, especially because you were never that bold.

"madly in love with me, huh?" mattheo repeated surprised, his signature smirk immediately replacing the frown on his face.

“it’s embarrassing, i know” you buried your face in your hands, hiding your rosy cheeks from his eyes. he softly took your hands in his, freeing your face of them.

"don't hide from me" he smiled "and it’s not embarrassing, because the truth is, that i'm madly in love with you too"

you smiled up at him. “can you kiss me then?” he smiled at your question, but shook his head.

“no more kisses tonight” he muttered, softly stroking your hair “we can do that tomorrow, as often as you want to, when you’re sober again”

“okay” you nodded.

he gently helped you to exchange your trousers for pyjama bottoms, before he took of his shirt and climbed into bed next to you. you cuddled close to his chest, your hair tickling him whenever you moved.

"blaise was right" you said finally "i'm your girl after all"

"you always were" mattheo whispered back, softly kissing your forehead, before the both of you fell asleep, holding onto each other.

#mattheo x you #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #matty riddle #benjamin wadsworth #hogmarch challenge #slytherin group #slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin #hogwarts #hogwarts houses #ravenclaw #gorgeous #taylor swift #reputation #reputation tv

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wreckedandpolemic · 4 months

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she's got a boyfriend anyway - matty healy

part iii - if we're gonna do anything...

(mdni) hahahahaha... heyyy... been a while huh?

warnings: 18+, drug use, unprotected sex, cheating

Being home is suffocating you. You love your hometown, really, you do, but you’ve gotten so used to reaching out and grasping a starless London night that the stickers on your ceiling feel mocking. Like you’ve stepped back into the body of the girl whose room this used to be, and her skin is two sizes too small. Every time your mother reprimands you for being out late, or swearing, or smoking, you remind yourself that you’re five minutes closer to being back in London, hundreds of miles away and outside your family’s sphere of control.

Being with Matty is different, though. He tugs you out of that too-tight skin, leaves you loose-limbed and free. You tell him as much, laying back against his wrinkled, black sheets, a joint burning down between his fingers and smoke hanging in the air. His answering smile is gorgeous, big and bright and a little dopey from the weed. A slow song you can’t pin down crackles from his vintage record player. “Shotgun?” he offers, and you grin, straddling him as he fills his lungs with smoke. Your lips hover over his, your hair falling in a curtain around your faces, shrouding you in fitting secret. He blows the smoke into your waiting mouth and you inhale greedily, certain a faint taste of him lingers in your lungs. You lift your head to exhale, blowing rings just to show off.

He stubs the joint out on his bedframe and flings the roach into the corner of his room, planting both his hands firmly on your hips. You’re crossing that line again; your feet have swept across it so many times since you came home that it’s faded from an all-encompassing warning bell to a faint, familiar tick. You press a kiss to his lips, savouring his responding giggle, your high wrapping the pair of you in a blanket that muffles the outside world. His arms snake around your back, tracing soothing circles over your skin. You relax into his chest, the warmth of his skin soaking into yours. Time drips over you like honey and you don’t know how long you lay like that, relaxed in his embrace.

“You’re so pretty,” he murmurs absently, petting your hair.

You kiss his chest softly, praise spinning in your slow-moving mind like a coin set on its edge. “Flatterer,” you reply, his gaze kindling a spark in your chest. The album ends, the last notes hanging in the air for a moment before fading away. The silence is tender, pleasant. Matty shifts, freeing his arm from under you and you whine, clinging feebly onto him as he rolls off the bed.

You watch him pick his way across his messy room to where his guitar leans against his bookshelf, smiling softly when he picks it up. He sits cross-legged, back against the wall, cradling the guitar lovingly in his lap. He strums idly, chords humming sweetly in the warm air and washing comfortably over you. “Mind if I play you something, love?”

“Please,” you reply, sitting up so you can see him properly. He teases a few more notes from the strings, then sings along in a low, quiet voice. You’re a little too stoned to process the individual words, but you know intrinsically that he’s singing to you, for you, about you. A solid lump of emotion rises in your throat, your cotton-mouth too dry to swallow it back down.

The song ends after some indeterminate amount of time, its linear passage having escaped you long ago. “D’you like it?” he asks, and you nod. It’s just about the loveliest thing you’ve ever heard; the romance of this tortured artist so dichotomous from what you’re used to. “Good,” he says shortly. “‘Cause otherwise that would’ve been well embarrassing.” Turning to start another record, he takes a deep breath and exhales shakily, unfamiliarly and uncharacteristically nervous. “This isn’t, um… We’re having fun, right?”

You tilt your head at him, hazy brain preventing you from reading his tone. “Yeah. ‘Course we are.” You turn a sleazy, charming grin on him, one you realise you learned from him. “Why?”

He smiles at you, a sweet, lovely thing, a far cry from the filthy, teasing smirks you’re used to. “I just…” He shakes his head as you fascinate yourself twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “Never mind. You’re so stoned.” He huffs a fond laugh and props the guitar back up against the bookshelf.

A dazed laugh bubbles up out of your throat. “Yep,” You pop the ‘p’ loudly, smacking your lips so the noise repeats over and over. “Fuck, your shit is so strong. I feel like my bones are glue. Does that make sense?”

He crawls back up the bed next to you, slipping a hand under your shirt to stroke fond circles into your skin. “No,” he laughs. “But you’re cute,” he adds.

“So are you,” you say, poking the tip of his nose and dissolving into a fit of giggles at the way his face scrunches in response. He kisses you lazily, tongue sweeping your mouth in slow, languid strokes; he kisses you just to kiss you, running his fingers through your hair and smiling against your mouth.

Time passes, your head clears, the platter spins and the sun sinks lower in the sky. It’s dusk by the time you peel yourself out of Matty’s bed and shrug your jacket back on. You’re regretful, gathering your things slowly, casting doleful looks at the warmth of his bed as you inch toward the door. “Just stay, love,” Matty tells you, grinning at the relief on your face.

You don’t bother double-checking, just dropping your bag and jacket and falling back into bed with him. “Thank you, darling,” you grin, pressing your lips against his just to feel them warm on your skin. “You and me, alone together in bed all night… whatever will we get up to?” you tease, hands wandering over his chest playfully.

“I have a few ideas,” he smirks, hand roaming down to your ass and squeezing. You tug his shirt off his body, kissing your way down his bare chest. His hand catches yours as you go to unbutton his jeans and you look up at him curiously before pressing a palm against his clothed dick. “C’mon, love. We’ve got all night. Right now, I wanna make you feel so good you forget his fucking name.”

Your thighs clench at his words; the possessiveness in his tone grips you. “Fuck, Matty,” you whine, sudden heat flooding your body and pooling at your core. “Off, off, now,” you whine, yanking off his jeans and boxers in one motion and wrapping your hand around his hardening cock. It’s almost a reversal of last time; in Matty’s room, now, his skin bare while you’re clothed. Slowly, you pump his cock again, relishing the way his hips twitch under your touch.

You kick off your own jeans and crawl back up the bed, leaning towards Matty as he roams his hands down to the hem of your shirt and pulls it over your head. Deft fingers work at the clasp of your bra and pinch your nipple as you slip the fabric off your body. “So fucking gorgeous,” he murmurs, gazing intently at your bare tits.

Sitting up, Matty climbs on top of you, kissing you hard and tracing a finger over the outside of your panties. A shiver runs through you and you grind against his hand, the fabric of your underwear scraping deliciously over your clit. You slide down the pillows so the pair of you are horizontal, looking up and losing yourself for a second in Matty’s big, brown eyes, liquid pools of fathomless desire. He tugs your panties down your legs, rubbing slow circles into your clit and swallowing your responding moan with a kiss. “Shit, Matty, come on,” you whine, rolling your hips against him.

“We have all night, love. Don't you wanna take it slow?” he murmurs, speeding up his motions at your clit. Liquid pleasure drips down your spine, blooming hot in your veins. A whine falls from your lips as he slips a finger into you, your cunt clenching desperately around him as he sets a torturously slow rhythm.

You groan. He’s so devoted to dragging everything out, insisting on toying with every encounter; you’re aching for it already. “No,” you retort. “Shut up and fuck me.” Weak bursts of heat rattle through you, insufficient, ramping up your desire as you kiss Matty desperately.

“So impatient,” he tuts, brushing a strand of hair away from your face and dropping his head to kiss your neck. “How do you want it?” he murmurs against your skin. Your stomach clenches at his words, unused to the care he takes with you, his lips reverent on your skin, awaiting your cue.

“Fast,” you gasp, a breathy moan falling from your lips as he slides another finger into you, the stretch between your thighs burning deliciously. “Hard,” you add, reaching down and wrapping a hand around his cock. “Come on, Matty, wanna come on your cock so bad,” His dick twitches in your palm and his jaw goes slack, desire burning in his gaze.

Matty pulls his fingers out of you, drawing them into his mouth and sucking your arousal off his skin. “Open up, love,” he instructs, spitting in your mouth when you drop your jaw for him. You swallow obediently, the taste of you sliding down your throat deliciously. Climbing off you, he lines his cock up with your entrance, teasing. “You ready?”

Nodding wildly, you clench your cunt and roll your hips, chasing the pleasure he holds just out of your reach. “Fuck me, please,” you whine, tangling a hand in his hair and tugging harshly, relishing the soft whimper he lets out. Finally, Matty enters you, the stretch divine in your cunt. He gasps as you clench around him, coaxing him deeper. “Harder,” you beg, digging your nails into his back and matching his thrusts with your hips to force him deeper into you.

“Whatever you want, love,” he grins. “Gotta give it to you just the way you want it before your little boyfriend gets his pathetic hands on you again,” he promises, the flash of guilt at the reminder of your sin indetectable against the waves of sweet bliss rolling over you. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you wildly. Your pulse thrums in your cunt, cries falling from your lips as he thrusts impossibly deep into you.

“Shh, not so loud, sweetheart,” Matty murmurs against your lips, sliding two fingers into your mouth to muffle your moans. Your head spins, drunk on him, liquid heat coiling in your veins and melting you in his hands. Euphoria pools in your belly, blood pumping faster and faster, your hips meeting slick and sweet. “That feel good?” You nod fervently, incoherent whines falling from your lips.

You writhe under him. “Matty,” you whine. “Matty, please, fuck–” you gasp, voice breaking on the last syllable as he strikes oh-so-perfectly inside you. “Oh, God,” you cry, digging your nails into his shoulders hard enough to puncture skin. His hand comes down to tease at your clit, callused fingers deliciously rough against your swollen nerves. “Matty, please, please, please,” you whine, hips jolting involuntarily to chase the sweet, sharp bursts of pleasure that ricochet through you.

“Are you close, love?” he asks, his pace stuttering as his control slips.

“Yeah, fuck,” you murmur between soft moans. Matty redoubles his efforts, pressure mounting between your legs, coiling tighter and tighter as you cling to him, lips meeting in a messy imitation of a kiss. He strikes your clit just right, and you scream, heat racing through your blood and sparks exploding behind your eyelids. Euphoria burns you from the inside out, your cunt clenching around him desperately. A pained whine escapes you as he pulls out of you, spilling across your stomach with a groan. Your chest heaves as you gasp for breath, coasting on your high. Matty collapses next to you, breathing hard, and grins over at you wickedly.

Matching his grin, you drag a finger through the mess on your belly and suck it off, swirling your tongue around your finger exaggeratedly. Matty snatches your hand away and kisses you deeply. “Are you trying to drive me crazy?”

“Yes,” you giggle against his mouth. “Is it working?” He nods almost imperceptibly, something intense shining in his eyes that you don’t quite want to understand. You cast your gaze anywhere else, and he clears his throat sheepishly. “I’m, uh, gonna go get cleaned up,” you say, wincing at the cliche as you pad into his bathroom.

Whatever lingering awkwardness you might’ve feared has dissipated by the time you return, cocking your head quizzically at his pose; propped up against the headboard, arms behind his head. “About that blowjob… What?” he complains as you burst into laughter. “No, I’m sorry,” he says, laughing. “I heard it as soon as I said it.” You climb back into bed next to him, resting your head on his bare shoulder.

Kissing at his neck, you taste the light sheen of sweat on his skin. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you tease, climbing over him and settling between his legs. “And that I’m generous.”

The sound of your phone clattering to the floor startles you awake. Blinking blearily, you comb a hand through your sleep-tangled hair. Twelve missed calls from your mum, three from your dad and… oh shit, seventeen from your boyfriend. “Matty,” you hiss, slapping his leg frantically from your position on the floor. “Matty!”

“Huh, what?” he murmurs groggily, stirring to peer down at you from the bed.

“I forgot Michael was coming up from London this morning!” you gasp, frantically hunting for your clothes, the enormity of the last few days suddenly in shocking clarity. Your phone buzzes at your feet as you wrestle with your bra, fingers shaking too much to close the clasps. The caller ID flashes his name, and you draw a trembling breath.

“Want some help?” Matty teases, and despite yourself, you do. You nod despairingly, his warm hands at your back a comfort even now. “It’ll be okay, love,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to the nape of your neck. His touch warms you through, your body melting instinctively against his. God. You are well and truly fucked.

#when taylor swift said Its been a long time coming she was talking about this fic #i gen cannot tell whether this is rubbish or not Pls dont tell me if it is im trying to get back in the swing Ok #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 smut #writing #smut

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shinycollarboneapologist · 1 year

Text

hoax

pt 3 to the taylor!verse or they definitely learn how to communicate.

content: not entirely smutty, but alludes to smut so 18+ only please, hurt no comfort, matty lies :/

matty’s departure for a tour usually pans out in one of two ways: a. you aren’t even privy to the fact that he’s left until he sends you a random dick pic in the middle of the afternoon, claiming it's two am his time and he misses you so so so much, or b. you’re getting woken up at six in the morning because he’s conveniently forgotten to secure a ride to the airport.

so, you sit and wait for the text. either one would work at this point, (though you’re a bit impartial to not being woken up with a picture of his dick).

you don’t just get a text however, you get multiple. a slew of messages wake you up from your slumber. multiple are him just asking if you’re awake because he’s bored out of his mind without you. others are him telling you all about the city he’s in and that you have to come visit because there’s so much good food and record shops and the vintage store he found has the best band tees he’s ever seen so he needs to know your size as soon as possible so he can buy you one. there’s an interesting use of emojis, too. you laugh to yourself as you begin to reply, but you’re immediately cut off by an incoming facetime from the man in question.

this continues for a few days- him in constant contact and you both ending your night on the phone together with him making promises of sweet nothings and baseless love. it's like he took a page right out of the “how-to-be-a-boyfriend-without-the-label handbook”, the perfect page at least to make you feel that deep down maybe in some parallel lifetime you were his and he was yours. and when he talks you through a mind-numbing orgasm later that night, having you puppeteer a ghost of what he would do to you had he been there, he asks you if you're his. and like you always do, you say yes through gasps for air and contorts of pleasure. you never ask if he’s yours though, the thought slips your mind at the moment. but you don’t need to because you know.

the next day, he calls and asks what your schedule looks like. you tell him there’s a lull in filming at the moment and that you’re free until a little over a month from now. he giggles, deviously, and you have half a mind to ask him what that’s all about. but he ends the call before you can. your confirmation comes about an hour later when you receive a text message with hotel and flight information and a cheeky “see you soon x”. you don’t push the envelope by questioning his intentions. instead, you make sure you tie up any loose ends for the next week and pack a bag.

he picks you up from the airport in yet another rented red convertible.

“you have a type, don’t you?” you laugh.

he shoots you a look, tossing your bag that he insisted on carrying for you into the backseat. “piss off.”

it only fuels your laughter, watching the way his face scrunches up as he rounds the car to get in the driver’s seat.

“mean it. I’ll leave you here,” his tone sounds serious, but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips and a glimmer in his eyes.

you roll your eyes as you hop in the car, “who’s going to get you off then, hm?”

he doesn’t respond. his hand finds itself on your thigh and that’s the answer you need.

for the first few days, it all seems normal. you fall into a sense of routine quite easily; waking up in a new hotel room, eating the hotel’s excuse for breakfast, lounging by the pool for a few hours, getting ready, going to the show, leaving for the after-party, leaving said after party early with matty whispering filthy promises in your ear, ending up in his room yet again, and then sneaking back out to your own hotel room before anyone would notice you were missing. it’s easy, to fall into this routine with him- especially on the days he has off and you two muck about in new cities, acting like tourists and finding new vintage stores. it’s like there was no ignoring and pining, just two friends (who happen to know each other’s bodies like the back of their hands) exploring and having a grand old time. painless, fun. easy.

until it isn’t.

she shows up on the fifth day of your trip. a woman mirroring your features. she’s an actress with a name that sounds like yours.

you had hardly noticed until you go to breakfast the next morning and she’s sat next to matty. your seat. he’s laughing at a joke she’s telling, wrapped up in her effortlessly. you don’t blame him. she’s funny and beautiful. you don’t blame her either for the way she looks at him because it's the same exact way you do.

he introduces you as his friend, with his arm wrapped over her shoulders and a permanent smile on his lips. the knife is twisting deeper. the wound only grows larger as she giggles out how matty’s told her so much about you and how much she loved the last movie you were in and did you know that matty and george had a hand in the soundtracking, they’re so talented, aren’t they? through a pained smile, one that matty would’ve picked up on (should’ve picked up on) had he been paying any attention to you, you’re nodding and thanking her. you excuse yourself before you can endure anymore, blaming it on a conference call. you feel stupid. used and stupid and confused.

you don’t notice matty’s eyes following you out of the room, a sallow expression overtaking his once gleeful smile.

there’s a knock at your hotel room. It’s just after two-thirty in the morning. you’re barely even opening the door before he’s pushing his way in, taking you in his arms and kissing the breath from your lips, sucking all of the air out of your lungs. you melt into him as you always do, fingers tangling in his hair and whines vibrating onto his lips. he takes you apart bit by bit with his tongue like his life depends on it, building you up to a blinding finish over and over and over again. you’re practically pulling him off of you in an attempt to hold onto whatever sanity you have left. and when he kisses you again, you taste yourself in his mouth; a small sliver of the remnants of your fantasy. he kisses you like he’s yours; your own perfectly curated shade of blue, a color mixed so tenderly and carefully like no other you’ve ever known.

you don’t ask him if he is yours, because you don’t have to. you never have to. not with the way he looks at you, a reflected image of your own dazed smile.

the last girl leaves and is replaced with another mirror of you. his late-night visits become far and few. time’s slipping away as quickly as he is, and there’s only three days left before you’re due back home for a photoshoot.

you didn’t notice it all until george brings it up as you two share a smoke on a balcony overlooking a new city. the air is crisp and the warmth brought by the blanket over your shoulders is a necessity.

“where’s matty?” he asks, exhaling the cloud of smoke in front of him with an outstretched hand holding the joint out to you.

you gladly accept, shrugging your shoulders and taking a hit, “haven’t seen much of him besides when he’s on stage.”

his eyebrows furrow and a tilt of his head comes soon after. you don’t like that look. it bubbles a deep feeling in your chest that radiates throughout your body and out into the air. you exhale as a means to eradicate it all, trying to push it away but there’s no use.

“weren’t you with him last night? i called and heard a voice in the back, sounded like yours.”

with the look you give him, he knows he’s ultimately shit the bed. your mind starts racing to matty telling you he was going to be busy for the next few nights, something about rewrites and creative processes but your mind was too hazy from the pleasure induced matty high to have it really resonate with you. you remember how he answered a phone call in the other room, just out of earshot so you wouldn’t be able to hear him. the feeling only grows.

“i uh, i wasn’t. i thought he was with you,” you swallow, thickly. your throat feels dry, but you’re accepting the joint again anyway.

george just shakes his head, offering you a solemn glance.

you feel sick. he’s on tour; singing songs he’s written about you yet, still shacking up with girls that aren’t you but look and act like you at the end of the night. so what's the matter with you, exactly? he makes you promise him that you’re his and you’ve never once asked him if that was reciprocated. he’s never once said it. but he acts like he’s yours in the middle of the night and under the covers and over text messages at ungodly hours. he tastes like he’s yours when he kisses you with so much fervor and longing that you forget how to breathe.

there are two days before you have to leave now. after the revelation on the balcony with george, you find yourself packing your bags, hurriedly. deuxmoi is calling her his next girlfriend, going on and on and gushing about how happy he looks for once. you’re sick to your stomach, excusing yourself from the gig that night with a lie about some casting call with your manager.

it’s late when they get back and matty is still riding his stage high. when he sees you outside the hotel, hushing furious secrets on the phone, it all comes crashing down. bile rises to his throat and he approaches you with a cigarette tucked between his lips.

“so we lie to each other, now?”

you jump, not expecting to see him until morning. your scoff falls into the air, ignored as he stares at you indignantly awaiting your response.

“you’re one to talk, matt.” the name feels foreign on your tongue, syllables that haven’t escaped your vernacular recently.

“if you didn’t want to come tonight, why lie about it?” it was a blow to his ego, no doubt, to not have you there tonight. but he deserved it.

“i’m not the liar here.” your words cast a heavy dark cloud over him, “why have you been avoiding me?”

“i didn't... i’m not avoiding you,” he sputters.

your reserve breaks, another lie.

“did you invite me here just so you could sleep with me if one of your friends didn’t feel up to it?”

the words leak out of your lips, dripping with malice like white-hot venom. they’re out in the open now, there’s no way for you to take them back as you wait for his response. the end of his cigarette illuminates as he takes another hit, eyes forward now. he didn’t dare make eye contact, too afraid of the nonsense that would boil over if he did.

“it’s not.. it’s not like that-”

“then enlighten me, matty.”

matty looks at you, finally, pensive as if waiting for you to go on, “i don’t understand.”

“why did you invite me here?”

“i think it’s pretty obvious?” an awkward laugh falls from his lips.

“god, i’m so fucking dumb,” you groan and run a hand over your face, wishing the earth would just swallow you whole, “i’ve been here waiting for a sign that maybe just maybe things were changing and i didn’t waste years of my life pining after a man who doesn’t care about me but instead sees me as an opportunity to get laid when his long line of women runs dry.”

“that’s bullshit! you were off doing the same things i was-”

“yeah, but i stopped because i…”

“you what?”

“i fell in love with you,” you confess.

you watch as his mouth bobs up and down. the air feels as if it’s been sucked out of your lungs, yet again, and you so badly want to just take back everything you said, beginning with your inquisition and your later revelation to him. you’re not sure if you even want him to say anything at this point, knowing that whatever he says is not going to help you lick the self-inflicted wounds or heal the mess you’ve so brilliantly perpetrated.

there’s an utterance of your name as he tosses aside the ember of his cigarette. you shake your head though, don’t want to hear what he has to say. the moment has come and gone, fleeting like a flash of lightning before a clap of thunder. he steps towards you, hands shifting as he wonders if he should touch you or just keep them to himself. he chooses the latter and you have to swallow down the tears as they sting at the corners of your eyes. you’re not about to give him the satisfaction.

“you don’t have to say anything,” your voice permeates the thickened air. his eyes search yours relentlessly, but you remain stoic in how you speak. “but if it isn’t obvious. this,” you gesture between the two of you, “i can’t do it anymore. at least not like it was before. and i’m not about to push you into something you’re not ready for. so, i’ve decided to just take myself out of the equation.”

“well that’s hardly fair,” he scoffs, his voice laced with his own thick emotion.

“i need to do this for me, though.”

“if you just give me some time-”

“matty, i can’t. if it’s taking you this long to even remotely have a response towards me telling you how i feel then it’s not going to happen and we both just need to move on.”

“but,” he swallows, “i want you to stay.”

“i can’t, not like this.”

“you knew what this was when we started, so i don’t know why you’re getting like this. can’t we just forget this happened? i won’t see her again if that makes you feel any better,” matty’s eyes are red and bloodshot and you watch as he blinks a few times as if to ward off tears.

“you can’t treat me one way behind closed doors, telling me you’re mine and kissing me like that and filling my head up with this faithless love and then make it out to be like none of that has ever happened.”

“that’s how it’s always been!”

“why can’t you just face the fact that things have been different between us?”

matty looks down at his shoes, “i didn’t notice that…”

“that’s bullshit, matty.” you cry out.

“i don’t want you to leave. not like this.”

“then give me a reason to stay. tell me that it’s not just in my head, that you feel what i feel, and that i’m not just imagining it all,” you plead, “tell me you want me the way i want you.”

matty stays silent for a minute or two, you’ve stopped counting. instead you’re holding your breath to put off crying, trying to will some kind of higher being to reverse the clock. you feel your grip on the upper hand begin to slide when his eyes meet yours again. he utters your name, begging with you. but it’s too late, you’re exasperated and tired of the back and forth and on and off and hot and cold. you just want to hear him say it. you’ve never had to ask him before, but your assumptions have left you feeling empty and slighted.

the second utterance of your name is all the confirmation you need. your eyes are stinging and you just shake your head at him, but he keeps speaking anyway. you wish you could stop listening, stop falling into his trap.

“i do want you. always," he steps towards you somberly, hands outstretched.

“you know that’s not what i mean,” you whisper in fear of what your voice would sound like even a decibel louder. you’ve lit the candle from both ends, enjoying the feeling of claiming him as your own and having him around without the vindication that he feels the same way. and now you’re left with the ashes of what was, forced to clean up the mess that’s left behind and hopefully clean up yourself as well. for years, you’ve put him first, let his entire being consume you whole, and paint you a shade of blue. but it was all a hoax, a game constructed by the man who stood before you so he could have his cake and eat it, too.

that seems to be enough for him to drop your hand. you hadn’t even realized he picked it up. and that’s the worst part of it all, you think, is he’s letting you go now without so much of a fight. the war is over, a winless fight, and as the dust settles all you can think about is how you’ve never once gotten the clarification.

you never asked him if he was yours because you never had to. but in hindsight, maybe you should have.

#hey :)#matty healy x reader #matty healy fanfic #matty healy smut #matty healy angst #my writing.#taylor!verse #✏️ - matty.

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tayfabe75 · 5 months

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Taylor Swift - Delicate (2018) // The 1975 - Oh Caroline (2022)

#tatty #maylor #taylor x matty #music video parallels #original edit #song: delicate #song: oh caroline

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abruisedmuse · 11 months

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I hope after all those people were being invasive and embarrassing stalking the studio, chasing her car, waiting outside Taylor's apartment for her to return home and scaring the shit out of her, that Matty had one of his cool ass forts waiting for her to hideaway from everything.

#taylor swift #matty healy #the 1975 #taylor x matty #probably reblog in the morning cause its late here but this little thought came into my head

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swiftie-fox · 11 months

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I'm just glad this controversy has led me to a new band.

#the 1975 #matty healy #taylor swift #taylor x matty #i actually like them

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thelastdj · 1 year

Text

Green

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Queen!reader

Genre: flooff

Summary: after the infamous hair dye mishap, (y/n) changes their hair color in solidarity

Warnings: none

I woke up this morning to a loud shrieking coming from somewhere in the house.

“Roger?”

The bed next to me was empty and I got scared. What if something happened to him?

Another yell echoed through the house and I finally got up. There was an old tennis racket in the closet, which I grabbed as I carefully walked into the hall. It wasn’t gonna do much damage but at least it was something.

“Roger?” I called out again, “Are you there?”

“(y/n)?” his voice called from down the hall. Why on earth was he screaming in the bathroom at 7am on a Saturday?

I banged on the bathroom door, “Roger? Rog, are you okay? Open up.”

“I’m okay, don’t worry love”

“Then open up”

“I… I can't,” he said from the other side.

“Is the lock stuck? Hold on, I’ll go get a screwdriver-“

“No!” he sounded panicked.

“My god Roger you’re acting as if you’ve got a girl hidden in there,” I rolled my eyes before rethinking what I’d said, “You don’t, right?”

He scoffed, “Of course I don’t (y/n).”

“C’mon, then what’s so bad that you locked yourself in a bathroom?”

He paused for a few moments. “Please don’t laugh.”

The bathroom lock clicked and Roger finally opened it. At first he looked fine, still dressed in pajamas. And then I saw the atrocity he was hiding. His hair, his beautiful blond locks, that hair that everyone admired, was now a violent shade of green. His face was pulled into an almost comical frown. Despite his plea, I couldn’t help myself, the scene before me was just too funny.

“(y/n),” he whined, “You promised you wouldn’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you.”

“Yeah right,” he grumbled.

“Aw, come on Rog, it’s really not that bad,” I said, running my hands through his newly dyed hair.

“We have a show tonight (y/n)” he said, “I have to go out there with green hair for hundreds of people to see.”

•••

We arrived at the theater at 5pm for sound check. It was a nice place, room for over a thousand people, and we all had our own dressing rooms. I loved the rest of the band, but there were only so many flying hairbrushes I could dodge.

Naturally, the first thing we heard as we made our way backstage was Brian’s, “Nice hair mate.”

“Shut up,” Roger grumbled.

“Hi (y/n),” Brian greeted me cheerily before turning back to Roger, “What on earth were you trying to do?”

Roger desperately looked over at me for help. I just shrugged. As much as I felt bad for him, it was his own mess. And what a funny mess it was too.

“I was trying to dye it blonde,” he said in a small voice.

“Blonde?” John asked incredulously, “You were trying to dye your already blonde hair blonde?”

“I wanted a different kind of blonde.”

“Roger darling, I hate to break it to you but blonde is blonde,” Freddie joked.

“(y/n) they’re bullying me.”

“Aww come here you poor thing,” I dramatically threw my arms around him, “You boys leave Roger alone. Run off and tune your instruments now.”

“You’re no fun,” Freddie replied in mock-annoyance.

But they did leave, one by one, all going to their own dressing room to get ready. The start of the show was drawing nearer by the minute and there were costumes to be donned and guitars to be tuned and eyeliner to be perfected. I too had a lot of preparing to do. There was something I had planned that might make Roger feel at least a little better about his hair.

“Is my hair really that bad?” Roger asked once everyone else had left.

Though he had laughed off the other’s comments, he sounded genuinely worried about going on tonight. I hadn’t seen him like this before a show since the band had started.

“I promise, it’s not as bad as they’re saying. You know them, they have to poke a little fun. They don’t mean it,” I reassured him.

Roger nodded and kissed me gently on the forehead.

“Am I still pretty though?” he asked, batting his eyes. He was right back to his old self.

“You’re still the prettiest boy here.”

“Reeeally?”

“Yes, now go get ready!” I laughed.

He kissed me one last time and headed off to his own dressing room.

We still had an hour left before the show, if I hurried up I would be ready just in time to go on.

•••

“FIVE MINUTES,” a voice boomed through the hall.

I looked in the mirror one last time, messing up my hair just enough to look good, and not like my hairdryer had exploded. The rest of the band was already strapping on guitars and doing last minute warm ups when I got there. Roger’s eyes grew wide as he saw me.

“(y/n)?” he asked in disbelief, “What did you do to your hair?”

Even in the dim backstage lighting, the dyed orange hue of my hair was clearly visible.

“I dyed it,” I explained, “Now you’re not the only one who’s going on looking like they’re from the circus.”

Roger shook his head, “That’s the nicest, and probably dumbest, thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he smiled, “Thank you (y/n/n).”

“Anything for you darling,” I said, giving him a quick kiss.

“TWO MINUTES,” the voice called again.

“Can I ask one thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Why orange?“ he asked jokingly before adding, “At least my green looks cool.”

“Bowie had orange hair and he looks cool as fuck,” I countered.

“I guess you’re right,” he conceded.

“ONE MINUTE.”

Roger quickly leaned over and kissed me. “Good luck,” he smiled and quickly headed over to his drum kit.

I strapped on my guitar and looked over to him one more time. His green hair clashed fantastically with his white shirt. Roger raised his eyebrows as he caught my stare.

I shot him a quick wink as the final call came, “AND… SHOWTIME!”

The last thing I saw before turning to face the crowd was Roger wink back at me. The crowd’s screams and claps were deafening, but soon enough Freddie’s voice overpowered even that.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor imagine #queen x reader #queen imagine #roger taylor #queen #mattie writes

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applesfallingfromblondehair · 1 year

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and I lost you

the one I was dancing with in New York

#matty and george #matty healy #george daniel #matty x george #gatty #maroon #taylor swift #this song makes me angsty

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yourtouchismidas · 1 year

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inspired by last night's events... matty takes gigi and rg to a taylor concert (in my head she is auntie taylor to g) and gigi is so entertained by the fact she and gigi hadid have the same name lol

omg mads this is like my dream blurb thank you.

so rg has been a swiftie her whole life. the fact her boyfriend is now good friends with taylor and they're making music together is something she can barely think about most days because she cant cope with it. but she comes home one day and matty is standing sheepishly in the corridor with an envelope. you've picked up gigi from school so you open it together and she jumps around screaming the house down and you blink back tears because this is your dream.

matty has to meet you there, because he has to go for sound check as he is singing with phoebe. and so you and gigi spend ages getting ready. you go in a floaty white dress and your cardigan, and you dress gigi in her reputation era, tiny black jeans and a sparkly black top and black doc boots for children and you paint silver glitter on her face like a butterfly.

one of matty's security guards meets you at the door and walks you both through to the VIP section. fans smile at you and gigi waves and you lean in for a couple of pictures saying, "not with my daughter in please, sorry" firmly but sweetly to the fans who understand and just smile at gigi instead and give her so many bracelets that her little arms are full of them up to her shoulders.

you watch phoebe together, and when matty comes out on stage gigi screams "daddy!" and he waves in your general direction.

before taylor comes on matty and phoebe join you. he kisses you hard in front of everyone, because of rumours that have been circulating, just to claim you as his own. you hug phoebe and she says "how you doin miss girl?" to gigi and lifts her into her arms to watch as taylor comes out because you're a wreck, crying your eyes out as she plays the first song. "aunty taylor!" gigi tells phoebe and points to her. the three of you boogie together to shake it off and matty holds you from behind and sways with you during lover.

you cry all your make up off your face and matty takes his fingers and wipes away your tears carefully, laughing at you lovingly and calling you a silly girl. when the show is over, you're about to go backstage to see taylor (who you have met a few times but always been shy and bashful around whereas gigi climbed into her lap the first time she met her, no hesitations and told her she looked like a princess.)

"baby girl," matty says to his daughter, who he has scooped up, "guess who this is?" and points to the model behind him. gigi shrugs and knuckles her eyes, getting tired, but smiles a bit. she leans her head into her dad's shoulder.

"hi darling, my name is gigi" the model says, which makes little gigi sit back up again and laugh, "but i'm gigi!" thinking it is a joke.

"me too"

"you're gigi too?" she says.

"yeah! we're like a little gang. a little gang of gigis"

little gigi laughs manically and tells model gigi they should probably make up a secret handshake for their gigi club, so they do that while her parents talk to everyone else. model gigi tells her that she has a little girl too and matty's daughter asks if her daughter is also named "gigi" and then says she should've called her that when she says it isn't. little gigi asks model gigi if her name is august too, and she says "no it's jelena" and little gigi says that's beautiful. "you're beautiful!" model gigi says back.

you all go to see taylor, who is tired, but hugs you all and makes you tea backstage and shows your daughter all her costumes lined up and lets her run her hand gently over one of the dresses. gigi falls asleep in matty's arms while you're all talking so you decide to take her home, knowing that this felt like the perfect night.

#ruins #ruins behind the scenes #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #just a disclaimer i have no strong feelings about the rumours either way except i want taylor and matty to be happy and healthy #and i want taylor swift music produced by george daniel lets go

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