#radio host
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part Twenty-One
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Authors Note: This is a long one, it took me a while but hopefully the waits been worth it? EMOTIONS is all I'm going to say.
Warnings: Lots going on- talks of car crashes, alcohol abuse (both in the past) also some previous thoughts on trauma and different coping mechanisms
> Last update: look back here if you'd like!
Masterlist
It takes a second for change to implement itself, though it can take a while longer for its realisation to truly hit.
…
I could hear him.
Bustling his way around my kitchen, singing quietly as he worked on the breakfast he’d promised the night before. Tins clattered, the kettle whistled, and the fridge door rattled closed, all whilst I padded my way towards him, pausing in the entryway to simply take in the sight I’d been gifted.
I grinned over at Teddy, who was currently tiptoeing on the wooden stool I had tucked away for whenever he felt inclined to help me cook, and then at Matty who seemed happy enough with making him giggle whenever he chose to lean in close to sing by his ear.
“Thinking this through… It's like, one,”
“..TWO!” Teddy laughed back when Matty pointed at him, beaming brightly at the sight of the man’s all too amused face.
“Yeah, ‘cause I'm in love with you-”
“I-I-I-I!”
It was something I’d never thought to even picture, let alone see, my son staring up at a man with such adoration and pride. The two of them simply belonging. The whole scene made me ache with a wanting for it to never stop, but even the best of things had to come to an end I supposed.
Matty turned, a smile painting on his features, only to pause when he caught sight of me, watching them from the doorway. He narrowed his eyes, then gave me a sly smile, before he placed the plate he’d been holding down on the counter and shuffled on closer, arms stretching out towards me as he continued to sing along to his own song. I mean, the ego on him.
“… I’m in love with you.”
It was hard going, attempting to dampen the grin that pulled at the corners of my mouth, especially when Matty wrapped his arms around my hips and started to sway us to and fro. He raised his brows up at me, fully expecting me to finish off the song for him, so I rolled my eyes and laughed the final line out, accompanied by a much louder Teddy, “I-I-I-I-I.”
Matty leaned in close to press a quick kiss to the corner of my mouth, his tangled hair tickling my cheek. He chuckled lowly to himself when I wrinkled my nose at the feeling and tried to escape from his hold, but did eventually let me go.
“What are you even making?” I asked the pair of them around a fond smile, crossing the kitchen to ruffle Teddy’s curls and open up the little window there. I sniffed lightly. “Did you end up burning something too?”
Matty rolled his eyes at that and shook his head with a tut, before he moved to pick up his plate once more, sliding past Teddy and I to grab at the toast which had just popped up. “No.”
“Liar.” I laughed with Teddy, picking him up and settling him on my hip whilst Matty turned his back on us to start buttering the bread. “What’s with the big breakfast then anyway? I thought you had to record today.” I asked him, praising Teddy quietly for the way he’d spooned some sugar and two teabags into a pair of matching mugs for us.
“Later on,” Matty answered me in a quiet murmur as I peered over his shoulder to nick a fresh piece of toast. “Oi!”
Grinning around the bite I’d just taken, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t completely charred. “Better than the last batch.” I told him honestly and with a wry smirk.
Matty just shook his head at me, but even as he turned back to the task at hand I could see the tiny beginnings of the smile he wore. “Said I could cook.”
With a sarky hum, I could only reply, “Does toast even count as cooking?”
I was simply swatted away with a tea towel in hasty retort and Teddy squealed, wriggling to be let down.
“Okay, okay!” I relented with a laugh of my own before I slid on over to press a grateful kiss to the side of Matty’s neck. “It’s very good, merci mon amour.”
I pulled away with a grin when I felt him tense beneath me, gesturing to Teddy for him to go ahead and grab the milk for us from the fridge whilst I began to pour the hot water into the tea he’d started.
“What are you up to today then?” Matty asked after having cleared his throat, tossing the butter-covered knife into the sink before he looked over at us. He thanked Teddy proudly when the little monster hurried back from dumping the tea bags in the bin to point at the man’s given cup. “Lifesaver!”
Teddy giggled happily.
Matty’s question had me chewing on the inside of my cheek as I went about lifting Teddy into his usual seat at the kitchen table and laying a plate in front of him. I smoothed down his tousled hair and didn’t quite look in Matty’s direction when I finally said, “You know, the usual… Quick trip to the shops, phone mum, speak to Finn, maybe pop into the park. I hear they’ve put in this new little greenhouse by the pond, you know, just across the bridge?”
I’d thrown it in there, hoping that he might just brush over it. But then Matty didn’t offer me an answer of any kind, so with nothing else to occupy myself with I slowly peered over to where he still stood, propped up against the kitchen counter.
He was staring down at the bowl of fruit he’d prepped sometime earlier, almost as though the grapes had suddenly grown legs and the banana pieces had turned purple. I sighed quietly to myself and felt my shoulders drop an inch before crouching down to whisper in Teddy’s ear, “Go turn on the tele for me, yeah? We can eat on the sofa today.”
Teddy’s entire face lit up at the very prospect and was so eager in his haste to hurry into the living room that he almost toppled out of his chair. I chuckled in fond exasperation, helping him down and handing him his plate with a quiet caution before allowing him to run off.
It was then that I turned my attention back to the main issue at hand.
We hadn’t spoken much of Finn and what had happened back at the studio. I’d given Matty his space after it had all gone down, allowed him the time to mull it over and hopefully forget the words that had been said, but I knew that had mostly been wishful thinking on my part.
Still, I was kicking myself for it now. We’d been good. Things had really been looking up; at work and at home, with Teddy and Matty, and then with Matty and I. Stupidly, I had thought that this might just be something we could have simply plastered over and left to settle, because admitting to the fact that things weren’t alright between two of the most important people in my life just wasn’t something I was ready to face yet.
I’d been selfish in that regard though, it seemed. Because of course Matty had taken the brunt of it all and pretended to shrug it off like it was no skin off of his nose. Leaving me to realise all too late just how much this whole thing had affected him.
“Matty.” I called to him softly before I gently rested my hand on the crook of his arm, testing if I was welcome. When he didn’t immediately shy away from my touch, I slid in behind him so that I could press my forehead to the curve of his back, to where that little dip in between both of his shoulder blades resided.
Thoughtlessly, my fingers trailed over the hem of the jeans he’d thrown on that morning, toying with the two belt loops which sat at the very centre.
We stood there for a long moment in the quiet space of the kitchen, the food going cold but neither one of us really caring. It was only when I felt some of that tension finally ebb in his shoulders that I slowly wound my arms around his middle, smiling slightly when I felt his hands take hold of mine at his front.
“I hate this.” I admitted to him, voice so faint it was muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. His fingers squeezed my own.
“I know.” He told me after a small pause and I felt him raise his head to gaze out of the small window sat opposite. “I know, Squeaks. Me too.”
I squeezed back.
“I’m sorry we haven’t spoken about it either. That I let it fester. I just wished, hoped even, that you might not linger too much on it, that things would- I don’t know, just end up working out. But I was stupid.”
Matty heaved a weighted breath and I let my eyes slip closed at the motion before he carefully turned in my grasp. He stopped to stare down at me, lifting a hand to tuck a strand of stray hair behind my ear, thumb brushing over a whitened scar I had yet to hide with makeup.
“Don’t. There’s no need.” He murmured to me, though his gaze was focused on the slow movement he’d just made. “Talk to him. He’s your mate, it’d be weird if you didn’t. But, I don’t know. Reckon I just might need some time. That alright?”
I was already nodding before he could even finish his sentence, more than okay with that. “‘Course it is. Though I don’t know much about talking with him, I’m betting on a screaming match. I’m still fuming with how it all went down.”
Matty gifted me a soft chuckle, and although it was hollow he had tried and that was what mattered most to me. It would take time to move past this, I could understand that. “Let him explain first, yeah?”
I frowned, brow pinching with it. “What do you mean? What’s he got to explain?”
He smiled, one of those soft dopey ones of his, the kind he often gave me whenever I’d said something silly or he was humoured by my confusion. “I get it, Mouse.” He sighed quietly, “I don't like how he went about it, it was cheap, shitty even, but he was just looking out for you, babe.”
My frown deepened and I didn't care to give his words much thought. “There’s looking out for me and then there's being a massive prick, Matty.”
With a huffed breath of a laugh, Matty trailed his thumb down my jaw to skirt over the bottom edge of my lip. His eyes finally met mine. “He went about it the wrong way, but he’s been good for you, baby. Looked after you and Teds for years, got you through some hard times, and so for that I give him a little leeway.”
My expression softened.
Matty’s fingers pinched my chin as he coaxed me back up to meet his gaze.
“Do that for me?” He asked, and who was I to say no to an ask like that?
Instead of answering him though, I simply leaned in and kissed him sweetly, cradling his jaw in my hands so that I could thumb over the tops of his cheeks. I wondered, momentarily, where I’d gotten so lucky.
–
A kid in the studio had both its perks and disadvantages, Matty had soon come to see.
Squeaks had been messaging Finn not long before he’d gone to set off, slowly pulling out some clean clothes from the ever growing pile he kept adding to each time he went round to her flat, whilst Teds completed his phonics, sat on the bed.
He’d kept calling out to Matty whenever he’d stumble onto the next, asking him to sound it out for him before trying to memorise it himself. Matty had enjoyed it- enjoyed all the time he spent with the little monster as a matter of fact- but helping him with the lessons he knew that Teddy would soon carry on further into his life… He didn’t know, it just settled something within him. Made him feel needed.
He hadn’t ever felt much of that.
Anyway, Squeaks had come into the bedroom just as he’d been tugging on a jumper, one she had said she’d liked the last time he’d worn it, and mentioned that she had to get ready to drop Teddy off round Adi’s so that she could head on over to meet Finn.
Matty had tried to keep his expression fairly neutral each time she mentioned the man. Because he hadn’t lied earlier when he’d asked for her to give her mate the benefit of the doubt. But it still irked him. The whole situation did, in truth. See because he knew that he was running on fucking borrowed time here with her. He’d never claimed to have been a lucky man either, so he knew that something was bound to happen sooner or later. He was merely praying that he’d be able to hold onto this small bubble of peace he’d found for himself for as long as he possibly could.
Teddy had appeared put out by the fact that he would have to head on over to Adi’s, who still lived with her elderly grandmother. All pouty and sweet looking, proper cute in actuality, and Matty had honestly gone and spoken before his mind had even had a chance to catch up with his massive mouth.
Mouse had been just as surprised by his offer to let Teds tag along with him down to the studio, spilling out claims that it would be fine with the guys (who’d yet to even meet the tyke) and that they weren’t actually working on anything too big that afternoon (just recording the ending of a session). And even though Matty hadn’t exactly asked the lot of them beforehand either, he figured it to be true enough.
And with the relief that had visibly fallen off of Squeaks at his reassurance, Matty hadn’t had it in himself to regret the offer. So with that, he’d set to helping her get Teddy ready for the day and then headed out the door.
Thing was though, the last time he’d ever gotten the tube with a little kid had been years before when his mum had visited with Lou. And back then she’d been the one to worry over his every move, not wanting to lose him in the crowd or have him swept under a carriage. Gruesome yeah, but it was a real fucking fear Matty realised.
This time around it had been his turn though, and God, did he feel sorry for all the shit he’d given his poor mum throughout the years. Was this why parents looked so tired all the fucking time?
Teddy was good enough though, curious sure, always asking questions and pointing at everything, but he listened, held onto his hand and didn’t ever wander off. He’d enjoyed counting the stops on the train too and didn’t think much of the few stares they’d gotten on the platform and again when they’d sat down.
By the time they’d made it to the studio, Matty had felt as though he’d just gone and ran a half marathon.
It was only when Teds had crowded into his trouser leg upon first walking through the entrance that he realised that this was just as new to Teddy as it was to him, and the fact that he was now being forced into an unknown setting probably didn’t make things much easier for the kid.
Still, he had managed to perk up on the small tour Matty had given him. Wanting to ease his nerves before they ventured much further, it had just been the two of them wandering the halls aimlessly and simply nodding or smiling at the very few people who passed them by.
It was only once Matty had figured it time to head into the room the band usually booked did Teddy quieten again.
“Where’ve you been? Only texted you like twenty times!” Matty heard George huff from around the short corner they were hidden behind after he’d called out to let them know that it was just him.
Matty paused by the door to cast a glance down at Teddy, but the kid was already looking at everything the walls had to offer; the big plaques with the even bigger names, the posters and many album covers that dotted the dark paint. It was only when Matty crouched down to level with him did Teddy glance back.
“You alright, monster?” He asked quietly, wanting to give Teds a second to wrap his head around things. Matty noted that he was back to chewing on his lip again, eyes wide and unsure, but Teddy gripped onto the hand Matty silently offered him.
After a moment, Teddy nodded at the question and Matty gave him a hopeful smile. “Good, ‘cause imma need you to kick this sorry lot into shape for me, alright? I mean, I know I’m good but they can’t just depend on me for everything, can they?”
He was gifted a quiet giggle, one which eased Matty’s mind a tad.
“Matt!”
Matty rolled his eyes at the shout of his name then shook his head mockingly at Teddy, who seemed to have jumped a bit at the beckon. “Told you, didn’t I?” He tutted playfully to the boy, rolling his eyes too for added effect, “Fall apart if I’m not here.”
Teddy was back to smiling now, “Like mum.”
Matty laughed at the comparison, certain that Squeaks would say that she had a much harder job with the show than he did here in the booth. But Matty wasn’t too inclined to disagree, she worked far too hard in truth.
“Exactly, mate.” He replied anyway, then nodded in the direction of the many voices that were bouncing their way towards them, watching as Teddy peered round him once more, “You think you’re gonna be okay?”
Teddy blinked and then looked over towards him, it was in moments like these which Matty saw just how much he resembled his mum, he reckoned it was those big eyes of theirs that held so much emotion.
“Yeah.” The boy finally breathed out and so Matty squeezed his hand just once in support, before lumbering back to his feet. He stole a quick breath for himself and then started leading them both further inside.
George was stationed where he always was, by the decks, surrounded by laptops and many a monitor. Ross was sprawled out on the beanbag they’d lugged in on day three, fiddling with the bass he held in hand. Hann, however, had chosen to sit nearest to the door and so he was the only one to glance upon at their nearing footsteps.
Matty watched on as a flash of surprise flickered across his mate’s face. Brows rose and a slow blink was seen before Adam finally smiled, looking every inch the father Matty knew him to be.
“Just who might you be then?” Hann greeted cheerfully whilst tucking his mobile back into his trouser pocket. He didn’t make a move to get up off the settee corner though, something which Matty felt immediately thankful for, it seemed neither of them wanted to crowd the kid just yet.
It was with that greeting though that Ross’s head finally shot up and George turned to face them in his big fancy chair. The pair of them flicked both alarmed and shock filled gazes to Matty, who did his very best to ignore their all too familiar mugs.
“This is Teddy.” Matty acknowledged, crouching down once more so that Teds could lean further into his side whilst his wide eyes surveyed their way about the rest of the room. Matty wondered what it must’ve felt like for him, struggling to recall moments from his own childhood when his mum and dad had brought him along to their interviews to sit in the audience.
“Teddy love, these three doughnuts are my mates. You remember, the ones I’m in a band with?”
Matty let Teddy have a second, waiting quietly as the little boy dragged his gaze back towards him with parted lips, he blinked and then nodded, hands wringing the sleeve of Matty’s jumper.
Matty merely smiled, bringing the kid in closer to press a quick kiss to his head of hair. “Look, Teds. See that one there, with the funny face? That’s Hann.” He was delighted to hear Teddy’s soft laughter, however muted it was, even as Adam scolded him with an unimpressed glare. “Then in the corner there, that guy?” Teddy dipped his chin, eyes trained on the bearded bloke who was grinning away like a twat, “That’s Ross, he looks like a giant but cries when he’s hungry.”
“I do not!” Ross shot back scathingly, narrowed eyes pointed at Matty which only proved to fuel Teddy’s quiet chuckles.
“Yeah alright, MacDonald.” Matty ignored whatever else Ross attempted to say after that, rolling his eyes theatrically towards Teddy before he gestured over to where George was sitting in his chair, pushing those pretentious sunglasses he often wore up onto his shaved head. “And that one there, that’s G.”
Teddy leaned in close again to whisper in Matty’s ear, “Drums.”
Matty chuckled despite himself, loathing the fact that of course Teds would have remembered the drummer. Most did. “Yeah, mate. That’s him.”
George quirked a brow at the hushed conversation shared but said nothing on it, at least not then. Instead he just waved Teddy on over, “You want to come see? Got a ton of buttons you can press.” He added as though he was trying to entice the kid.
Matty dampened the mirthful grin that crawled up onto his face when it seemed to work though, even as Teddy tugged him along by their joint pair of hands.
By the time Matty finally got around to stepping into the booth to record a few verses a while later, Teddy felt comfortable enough to wait for him just outside the door with the three giant idiots he’d left him with.
–
A stalemate.
That was where we were currently sat.
Even with everything that had gone down, him starting this whole mess, I had been the one to go to him. To his loft where he worked most days when he wasn’t with clients, or visiting galleries.
Finn had welcomed me in with his usual hello through the intercom, buzzing me up into the building and then meeting me just past the front door. He’d been kitted up when I’d entered, still in his apron and covered in paint, the latter of which he was trying to wash off when I first spotted him.
He’d had the kettle already going and he smiled slightly after asking me how I’d been. I’d been truthful, said that I was doing good- all things considered.
There’d been an awkward pause at that, the two of us unsure on where we should then go with the encounter, but the kettle had whistled and on instinct I had turned to grab the mugs.
He had nodded gratefully, but then gestured me over to where his colourful sofa sat by the large open bay windows, joining me with two steaming brews not a minute later.
“How’s Teds?”
I licked at my lower lip at the question, peering into the still swirling mug. “Good, on Easter break soon enough.”
“What have they been working on then?” Finn asked next, because we both knew this was a safe topic, an easy starter.
“Phonics at the moment,” I replied with a small smile that couldn’t quite be helped, recalling the way Teddy had puttered around after Matty this morning calling out each sound he’d needed to learn. “He sounds them out after breakfast most days and then again at night.” We shared a brief smile, before I mentioned, “Matty’s been helping too.”
Finn hummed.
I pressed my lips together to keep from blurting out everything I wanted to say at the sound of it, attempting to stick to the plan I’d formed on my way over here. Letting Finn open up on his own, rather than come in all guns blazing.
“How is that going then?”
My brow pinched as I peered over at him from across the settee, “What, with Matty and I?”
Another hum, though this one was accompanied by a slight nod.
I was wary of how to answer Finn, especially after having learnt what the man truly thought about our whole relationship, but figured I should at least be honest.
“We’re happy.” I love him. “He’s good for me, I think.” It terrifies me. “He brings out a part of me that I haven’t seen much of since- I don’t know, maybe my first year of uni?” I let go of a breathy chuckle, picking at the wrinkled hem that sat at the knee of my jeans. “It’s been, really nice.”
When I chanced a glance back up, it was only to find Finn already looking back at me, his expression carefully set, almost as though he was trying to suss out any sort of lie in my answer. I waited a second and then he smiled. Nothing less than genuine, and I felt my whole body relax at the sight of it.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted.” Finn spoke softly, placing his cup down on a side table to slide on a tad bit closer. He rubbed at the back of his wrist before settling his hands in his lap, “I shouldn’t have gone about it the way I did, I just- You know I care so much, Mouse. And this is me in no way asking to be let off the hook or anything of the like, but, you have to remember I was there through it all.”
Frowning slightly at his words, I followed Finn’s prior motion, putting my own mug down so that I could pull a leg up under me, settling nearer.
He let go of an exhale, “I was there when you found out about Teddy, I was there before that and then after. I saw the line of broken hearts you left in your wake, chasing this thrill you sought so hard to find, and all of the games you wanted to play.”
He took my hand then and I just let him, thinking on his words, on how it must have seemed to someone else looking in from the outside. I knew I’d been a right mess after leaving home.
In truth, I’d been a mess since the night of the accident, when my whole world had been flipped on its head, turning me into this scarred little kid. Leaving me not only alone, but wanting to chase after everything I felt I’d missed out on because of it the second that I’d gotten the chance. Which had meant finding friends and casual sex, bar hopping and clubbing for days on end, looking for the next best thing to simply entice or excite me.
Finn had been there.
He’d been there through most of it, if not it all. He had watched me jump from guy to guy, get my stomach pumped at the local A&E, not just once but three times. He’d been the one I had turned to in my lowest moments, when I’d felt dirtied, when I’d just wanted to cry, or to merely laugh. He was there.
I could understand what Matty had meant now.
‘He looked after you and Teds for years, got you through some hard times, and so for that I give him a little leeway.’
“I can still picture your face, you know.” Finn murmured, stare fixed on the tight hold I now had on his hand. “That night you turned up at mine after finding out that you were pregnant. You looked a fucking state, soaking wet from the rain and wearing only your pjs.” We shared a light chuckle that echoed before drifting off. “It broke me, to see you like that.”
“I know.” I whispered in a rasp, emotions clinging to the back of my throat.
Finn only smiled sadly. “But it worked out. Enough that you seemed happy enough with what you had. And I know that Teddy will always be enough fro you, but you deserve so much. You deserve to live and to love, to have that family you’ve always dreamed of.” I went to protest but he just shook his head, “I know it’s what you want, Mouse. You don’t have to say anything for me to notice the looks you give other parents in the park, or the kids who meet their mums and dads in the school playground. I can see how much you want that, and not just for Teds. But for you too.”
I swallowed thickly, feeling all too seen suddenly.
Finn squeezed my hand, forcing me to meet his gaze once more. I hadn’t even realised I had shied away. “Does he do that? Does he give you that hope?”
The inside of my cheek had practically been bitten raw these last few days, but it didn’t stop me from chewing on it again as I looked over at Finn with a watery stare. “I think so.”
With a slow, albeit fond, tilt of his head, Finn hauled an arm over my shoulder to crowd me into his side. The two of us huddled in close on his artsy sofa that would look so out of place anywhere else.
I smiled at the thought.
“If he means that much to you, then I’ll make up for what I did. What I said.” Finn reassured me, his voice quiet in the large expanse of his loft. I hadn’t actually expected it to go this way. “But I do want to know. I want to make sure that he knows that he’s not just getting you out of this, that Teddy isn’t a deal breaker here. That he’s grown enough to understand the implications and repercussions of his life and whatever the fuck goes on with it. That he is clean-”
I opened my mouth, guard jumping right back up. But Finn just tucked my head under his chin, hand gripping at my shoulder enough to keep me there with him.
“Sobriety is hard. I understand that. When it finally comes to light that he actually is with you, that means Teddy too, and it’ll be a fucking mess. I want to make sure that he won’t fuck up and throw it all away the second shit gets hard.”
Inhaling, I could only nod. I knew what he meant, it was something I had thought about an awful lot. Too much in fact, I’d worried enough over it that I was still so wary over whether or not to broach the topic with Matty himself. But I hoped, for the first time in a long while.
And that had to be enough for now.
–
Finn’s had been an emotional affair, but not a place I’d lingered too long after our initial apology. We both still needed some time to process and to lick over our wounds.
I’d been more than thankful for it though, it had been a real weight off of my shoulders in truth, because knowing that there was a chance to move on past it without having to pick and choose, or divide my time, was something I hadn’t really held out hope for.
I was a pessimist at heart.
But that being said, I’d been quite optimistic about Teddy’s few hours spent with Matty- alone. Which should’ve been daunting in retrospect, insane even, and had probably once been, but Matty had quickly come to prove himself not only to me, but to Teddy too. So although I’d been cautious, I hadn’t necessarily been quick to stamp out the idea.
The last little excursion the pair had been on without me had gone down a treat, with Teddy having been tuckered out and fast asleep the second he’d gotten into bed, and Matty having bonded further with him somehow.
Then there had been the whole ‘I love you’ mess.
And God, if anyone would’ve told me that I’d have been the one to say it first I would have laughed in their face. Cackled loudly enough to be heard three streets over and on the very urge of wetting myself. But then exactly that had happened.
The words had been lingering in the corners of my mind for a few weeks before last night. Tittering, almost. Having started popping up around Christmas time, with the unannounced gift giving ceremony we’d shared and the incredible bond Matty seemed to have formed with my son. And had then settled in not long after that demo I’d received and the midnight visit where Matty had turned up at my doorstep in a downpour.
I hadn’t loved.
Not really.
I’d loved people, friends and family. Sure.
But someone to keep? Someone that I could call mine?
No, that had never really felt like much of an option for me. And Matty… he’d sort of come out of nowhere, hadn’t he? This mess of a man, but so very wonderful in his own way. He had really crept up on me, and looking back it almost felt as though it was bound to happen. Us, I meant. It felt strange to imagine it any differently.
Messages now
I’m here! Come get me, it’s freezing!!
It didn’t take long before his telltale pop of curls emerged from the main entrance to the same studio I had found him perched outside of during the aftermath of the big mishap with Finn. It almost felt like coming full circle with our decision to have me meet the pair of them here after just having talked with Finn.
Matty’s grin was infectious as we moved to meet one another in a quiet hello, his arms catching themselves around my middle whilst I buried my face into the curve of his shoulder.
He was warm, that was my first thought even as he pressed a chaste kiss to my head, enough so that I didn’t mind the fact that he kept me tucked up under his arm as he pulled away to lead us back inside the building.
“You get here okay?” Matty asked me once the door had rattled shut behind us, his voice travelling in the sparse lobby like area I’d yet to get acquainted with.
Humming, I answered his question with a nod, “Yeah, walked most of it, Finn had a client call out of the blue.”
Matty’s cheeks hollowed a tad but he hummed too before tilting his head over to the right, we started to walk that way. “It go alright then?”
I let go of a heavy breath, eyes surveying every inch of the studio as we wandered further inside, “As well as it could have, I ’spose. It’ll take time, I reckon, though he wants to make it up to you, too.”
Matty appeared to blink at that, the words seemed to have caught him by surprise, but he didn’t falter in his wandering, leading me down a narrow walkway.
“Are you up for that?” I pushed.
He wet his lower lip in thought, dipping his head at a maintenance worker who passed us by before looking back at me. “Told you, I’d give him a little leeway. But I wanna know more about what you spoke about first. If that’s alright with you.”
I was nodding away before he could even tack that last bit on, “Of course, I wouldn’t think not to, in truth.”
I was gifted a sweet smile and quick peck to the cheek before Matty paused, his hand catching on the handle to a heavy door. Soundlessly we slipped past it, Matty closing it slowly behind us to stop it from banging against its hinges and alerting the rest of the room’s occupants to our sudden arrival. Not that it would’ve been all that easy a task, what with the noise that consumed you the second you entered.
Matty smirked at the look that must’ve crossed my face at the sound before he held a finger to his lips, signalling me to keep quiet. I rolled my eyes but took the hand he held out towards me, the two of us creeping over to the corner that gave way to the real chaos that greeted us beyond.
First thing I took notice of was the loudmouth four year old who had seemingly taken charge of the band’s rehearsal, a sight which had me biting my lip to muffle my sudden hysteria.
George was seated by a stretched desk full of slides and buttons, elbows rested on the tops of his thighs whilst he listened animatedly to Teddy’s thoughts on whatever he had Ross and Hann tinkering about with.
The latter two were just holding onto their instruments, Ross stood with his bass and nodding along to what strings Teddy pointed at, whilst Hann was told to ‘look happier’. Something Matty had immediately snorted at, endlessly amused by Adam being told to liven up by a kid who’d only been out of nappies for a little over a year and a half.
The snort seemed to catch George’s attention though because his head shot over at the sound, which in turn forced the rest of the room to follow.
I heard Teddy’s gasp before he came bounding over, wearing a pair of sunglasses that probably cost more than my monthly rent.
“Alright, lovie?” I laughed, swiping up an excited Teddy before he could barrel straight into my legs. “You been having a good time?”
Teddy’s enthusiastic nod was enough to assure me of that but then Ross spoke up, “Should hope so, been hounding me to get this bassline right for ages, ain't you, mate?” He smiled at the giant grin he received in turn before nodding over towards me, “He’s got a proper good ear though. Should get him into it soon, especially if he likes it.”
Blinking, I could only look back down at Teddy, who was now informing Matty on everything he’d missed out on in the sparse moments he’d been gone in a tangent like ramble.
George sniffed as he made to walk on over to us which forced me to glance up again. Hann had started to take off his guitar strap whilst Ross went back to fiddling with his strings once more. Seeingly wanting to get whatever he was working on down before he had to leave for the day.
“He’s a good kid.” George commented to me, watching on as Teddy reached out to be taken by Matty, the man not even second guessing the motion of catching the boy under his arms and settling him on his hip. “And Ross ain’t wrong either. He seemed to really enjoy himself, had him messing about with the console for a bit and Matty even got him to play a couple chords on the guitar for us.” He chuckled lowly, a soft sort of smile breaking up his typically stoic features.
“Hope he wasn’t too much for you guys, Matty reckoned you’d all be alright with him tagging along but I didn’t even think to double check.” I mentioned, eyes caught on the way Teddy was now so enthralled by the story he was telling both Matty and Hann, arms stretched out wide as he exaggerated something or other.
George was shaking his head when I glanced back at him, “It was nice. Having him here, but seeing Matt with him too.” George’s mouth thinned when he lifted a hand to tug on his ear, “I didn’t think he could be like that. It’s strange, him letting someone else hog the limelight whilst he’s sat on the outskirts.”
We both shared a fond chuckle, because I could see what he meant but also, “He’s taken to Teddy better than I expected, really. It’s something I’m most thankful for, as well as the fact that Teddy seems to really like him too.”
My smile was warm, I could tell, and when George caught a glimpse of it I got to watch him almost mimic the gesture, as though he was thankful for it all too.
“You’re good for him.”
My breath caught a little at that, but I kept on smiling as I peered over at Teddy and Matty who were giggling between themselves whilst Hann, and now Ross, had seemingly taken to shaking their heads at the pair in indulging amusement.
“He’s good for me.”
…
The walk home from the studio had been spent hand in hand. The three of us just padding along the narrowing pavement, Matty more often than not trailing alongside the curb so that we could keep it up.
Teddy seemed to enjoy it though, even more so when Matty and I had started up a game with him, lifting him up off his feet so that he could swing back and forth in midair for a few brief moments.
By the time we’d made it home we were all just content to find something to eat and curl up in front of the tele, me listening to Teddy tell me all about his day with Matty whilst Matty pulled my feet into his lap.
He put Teddy to bed not long after, upon the boy’s sleepy request, and had returned about fifteen minutes later, having read a story and bundled Teddy up under his duvet covers. It had been then that I’d gotten to tell Matty more about the conversation I’d had with Finn, rehashing his words and even delving a little deeper into my past with him.
“How long have you known him again?” Matty asked me, thumb trailing back and forth over the jut of my knee whilst the tv played on low.
“Only since the first year of uni.”
Matty appeared quite surprised by that, he said so too. “Seems like longer.” I grinned tiredly at his musings, eyes squinting with it as I leant further into his side.
“It does a lot of the time, but sometimes it doesn't. Wasn’t lucky enough to have been gifted a group of bandits and made to start a band.” I teased, not unkindly, appreciating the way his hand travelled up to run his fingers through my hair. I peered up at him, “They’re all so lovely, you know.”
He answered me with an airy titter, the sound soft enough not to echo out of the living room and down the hall to where Teddy slept, “You’ve never been on tour with them, sweetheart.”
I laughed then too. “Maybe, but Teddy likes them. And I like them too.”
“I’m glad.” Matty whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. When he pulled away, I moved to capture his hand in my own. “You have anyone like that?”
I shook my head minutely, not wanting him to disturb his position, “No, wasn’t in school long enough to make any lasting friendships and then I guess when you reach a certain age it always feels a little harder.”
A quiet swept over us then and I took the time to simply admire the few tattoos Matty's forearms held; the passport number, the box, the postcode on his inner elbow.
“Was that because of what happened?”
His voice was cautious, which was unusual for Matty and more than likely the cause which had me peering up at him, rather than his ask that had gone and broken our peaceful bout of silence.
My nose wrinkled, “What, with my scars?”
Matty gave a soft hum of assent, watching me from under a careful gaze, obviously anxious not to overstep or force my hand on the matter. I smiled at his care and gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
“Yeah, it shook me a lot. I mean, I spent weeks in hospital and then after that, I was on strict bed rest whilst at home.” I explained to him, fingertips trailing over the faint grooves in his palm. “I was homeschooled for a long time too and when I did finally go back, well most of my class didn’t much care for me beyond the horror story they’d been told. It grew old quickly enough though, but even so it was hard to connect with people beyond the basic level.”
Matty’s thumb had begun to trail over the skin of my wrist, settling once or twice on my pulse point before going back to stroking again. “What did happen? I mean, only if you’re alright with saying anything about it, I know sometimes shit can still be hard.”
I breathed out an airy chuckle, turning my head to hide my enamoured smile in the wrinkle of his jumper. “I don’t mind. I don’t like mentioning it with strangers much, which is why it’s not really public knowledge unless you go digging. But it was a car accident.”
I felt Matty tense beneath me but his touch didn’t stray, only became that bit bolder, the hand in my hair coaxing me to glance up at him so that he could kiss me sweetly, nose nudging at the curve of my cheek before withdrawing. I hummed happily.
“My dad was with the local police. High up, but a drinker. Only started though after this one case, and then it spiralled. My mam worked night shifts sometimes at the hospital, which was a good way away from where we lived, so it would just be him and me until she got home.”
I took a breath, realising it had been quite sometime since I’d actually spoken about the crash, or even thought of it really. The scars were a constant reminder, yes, but the crash itself was something that had occurred almost two decades ago now, so I’d had time to sort of come to terms with it. As much as I could.
Not to say that it still didn’t wear at me, it had been a big event in my life, changed things in more ways than one. Because it had also been the spark which had sent my dad packing.
“It’d been raining that night, I remember ‘cause the water had been leaking in from under the backdoor. My dad had sworn up a fucking storm when he’d noticed it but could only really stick a couple towels down, claiming that he’d fix it on his next day off.”
A light chuckle escaped me at the vivid memory my mind made up, his tall figure, the odd phrasings he would use, but nothing of real substance. I couldn’t quite recall his face, or the depth of his voice, seeing as I hadn’t looked over old videos or photos we had since I’d visited mum back home.
“It had been a bad storm, had the tides reaching the cliff peaks if I remember rightly. Which meant that the hospital had started to flood, at least the north ward where mam had worked.” I continued, enjoying the delicate caress of Matty’s thumb as it trailed up my arm, “She’d been sent home after they’d managed to move most of the patients on the ground floor westward, but her car broke down about a mile out.”
I could hear the call even now, the sound of my dad’s heavy footsteps when he’d come to wrap me up in a coat, murmuring that we had to go and pick her up.
“The winds picked up, I guess. Dad didn’t have a car seat, that was what we used mam’s car for. So he just sat me in the front seat before setting off.”
Matty’s touch faltered slightly, probably having suspected where I was headed with this before it picked up once again. “The rain was relentless and we weren’t too far from the shore so it almost felt as though it was just thick sludge falling from the sky. It was hard to see past the first metre or so.”
I swallowed, noting how the light from the tv screen stretched out across the floor and flickered each time a scene changed.
“Our town wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to warrant a couple T-junctions and the odd roundabout. There was a fourway, just up past the old baptist church, a road mostly used for when you were coming off the main motorway or headed out towards the airport. Dad had been drinking, you could smell it on him some days, but at night it was always stronger. He blew through it, the traffic light teetering on amber before it finally turned red.”
Staring blankly out across the living room, I could almost picture it. The downpour which had clouded the windscreen, the old dash of my dad’s car, the familiar scent of his preferred brand of tobacco.
I licked at my lower lip, mouth suddenly dry. “A van had been crossing. On the passenger side.” I added quietly, appreciating the grip of Matty’s hand as I carried on, “All I really remember after that are headlights and the blare of a horn. Woke up a couple days later, having missed my seventh birthday and my dad nowhere to be seen.”
I huffed a small chuckle, reaching up to rub at my eyes before turning to face Matty. I wasn’t quite prepared for the wet gaze I’d been met with or the single tear that had seemingly escaped and come to a pause on the bridge of his upper lip.
I lifted a hand up to wipe it away, smiling when he kissed the pad of my thumb.
“You’re incredible, you know that.”
I’d been called many things, but I don’t think incredible was one of them.
I leaned in to kiss him, wanting nothing more than the feel of having him close, even if that meant tasting the salt of his tears or enduring that careful way he held my face. It was everything I had needed then.
–
After the little moment I had shared with Matty the previous night, I’d gone to bed feeling a little more drained that usual, but I’d put it down to the exhausting day I’d had and the fact that Matty’d had to head home so that he could do a skype interview early the next morning.
I’d almost been tempted to say that he could do it here in the flat, but with Teddy you could never tell when the kid would be coming or going, so it was safer for Matty to stick to his typical routine.
But I’d woken up all sniffly and foggy headed the next morning. The pounding at the base of my skull had forced me up out of bed in search of painkillers, as well as the fact that it had just gone ten, which meant that Teds was already up and mulling about.
I took a couple of nurofen I had tucked away in the medicine cupboard with a glass of water and figured I’d be better getting a move on with my day than heading back to bed. I knew that Matty would be popping round sooner or later too, so I attempted to sort through a load of washing that desperately needed to be done as well as tidy away the mess we’d created last night.
Teddy had helped himself to a banana from the fruit bowl at some point but was already asking for breakfast by the time I’d stuck the washing machine on- unaware of how close to crying I’d been after I’d gone and dropped a wad of detergent on the floor.
Even so, I’d set to start on a pot of porridge, knowing he would enjoy it with either some jam or spread, but I was surprised when I heard the front door rattle shut not long later, having not heard a knock nor Teddy answer it. I went to scold him, frowning at the fact that he thought he could just answer the door to anyone when Matty appeared with a few Tesco bags in hand.
“I knocked on the window, so he saw me before he let me in,” Matty was quick to rush out, grinning down at Teddy who had since spotted his breakfast and made a dive for it. “Figured I’d grab some stuff before stopping in, knew you mentioned feeling crap last night before I left so..”
He shrugged, moving over towards the kitchen before I could even think up a reply, a little bewildered by the fact that anyone would have the foresight, let alone the sincerity to do something like this for me.
“Matty.” I breathed out, so utterly warmed by the gesture as I followed after him, “You didn’t have to.”
Matty rolled his eyes at me, settling the bags down on the counter, “Shut up, you idiot. Just let me feel like an adult for once, yeah?”
I laughed, unable to help myself, even as he gestured for me to take a seat at the table, claiming I looked a little warm and confirming it when he pressed his hand to my rosy cheeks.
“Do you ever stop?” He questioned around an exasperated smile, settling some basic cold medicines down as well as a few sweet treats. “Washing machine’s already going, the kid’s been fed, floor seems to have been swept too. How’ve you not dropped?”
I rolled my eyes at his ever growing eccentrics, though was still wearing a rather pleased smile. It was nice, I deemed, having someone look after me for once.
“I can’t stop, babe, got things to do, a tiny person to look after!”
Matty just shook his head at that, obviously not too happy with my retort, “Guess we’re just gonna have a lazy day then, yeah? Got snacks, popcorn even. Reckon Teds will enjoy it. I can even take him out to the park for a bit, just to let him run off some of that energy.”
I blinked at the maddening man stood before me. Wondering what I’d done to deserve all of the things he'd done for me. And without having even been asked.
“Haven’t you got stuff to do?” I queried, content to simply watch him unpack the shopping he’d bought.
Matty shrugged a single shoulder, wrapping up a carrier bag and tucking it into the stash I kept hidden beneath the sink. “Nothing important.”
“The interview went alright then?”
He hummed, putting a couple tins of soup away in a cupboard just above his head. “Yeah, fine. Hann did it with me, other guy was in Paris or some other, I think. Definitely French though.” His phone sounded then, but it seemed he’d left it in the pocket of his jacket which he’d gone and thrown over the back of a chair upon walking in. “Look at that for me, would you?” He asked, peering down at a carton of something or other, probably pondering over whether or not it went in the fridge.
I was only a little surprised by his request, but did so anyway, trying to find the phone in one of his many deep pockets. “Definitely French?” I prompted, smirking smugly over at him before my fingers finally found the device. “You sound so certain, Healy. Almost as though you’ve been taking notes on the French dialect, or something like it.”
Chuckling to himself, Matty flashed me a big smile from over his shoulder before turning away with a wink. “The French are fit, baby.”
I laughed lightly with a halfhearted shake of my head, then peered down at his phone, “Password?”
“0709.” He told me, and so with a slight pinch in odd wonderment I typed it in.
“Why that?” I couldn’t help but ask, only glancing up again when I heard the shuffle of his feet. I raised a single eyebrow. “What, is it like the death of your guinea pig or something?”
Matty’s face pitched itself into a hearty grimace that made me cackle. “My guinea pig? Who the fuck owns a guinea pig?” He shook his head at me, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort and instead said, “It’s the date we met.”
My eyes widened considerably. “Actually?”
With a light huff, he turned back to putting things away, “Thing gets lost or nicked more times than not, so I’m always changing my passwords. Figured I’d remember that one.”
“Matty!” I all but awed, honestly feeling the love. “You can be such a sap sometimes, you know that. The day we met!”
I received a glare in retort but I simply laughed at him before turning to look down at the message he’d just received. My forehead furrowed.
“You said you had nothing going on today!” I was quick to accuse, eyes flashing up to meet his somewhat startled face, “George’s party is tonight!”
Matty’s mouth formed a little ‘o’ before he merely shrugged, “G will get over it if I can’t make it. You need me here more, and besides, his birthday isn't even for a couple more days. They’re only throwin’ it tonight so that most people can make it.”
I looked heavenwards, hoping that the second pause would give me a little bit of strength. Did it fuck. “Matty, you’re not staying here with us when George, your best mate might I add, is out celebrating his birthday! He’ll want you there.”
“Squeaks, you’re sick. He’ll underst-”
I shook my head, “No, you’re going. I’ve got a little cold, nothing that’s gonna kill me. What will kill me though is you not going to be with G on his special day.”
Matty narrowed his eyes a tad, “Don’t guilt trip me.”
My next bout of laughter couldn’t be helped. “I’m not!”
With a scoff, Matty turned to put the carton he’d held in the side door of the fridge, shaking his head as though I was the one being outlandish. “It’s fine, alright?” He said once he’d spun back around, “I’d much prefer being here anyway.”
My head dropped to the side as I looked up at him, “Babe, please go. It would honestly mean a lot to me, but even more so to George. You know, who’s birthday it is. Go on. Please?”
Matty sighed and ended up dropping himself into the opposing chair, I slid his phone on over to him. “What about you though, and Teddy?” He asked and it was sweet, how much he cared.
“We’ll be fine.” I assured him, reaching out to take his hand, “The party isn’t til later anyway, so how about we stick with your lazy day idea and then when you need to start heading out, I can just pop Teds in the bath and get him ready for bed.” When Matty still didn’t seem too keen on the idea, I squeezed his hand a tad and added, “You can even head back here after if you want.”
He perked up at that, but was still a little resistant to the whole idea of leaving.
“I promise we’ll be fine, love.”
And oh, did I wish that had been the truth.
#the 1975#fic#matty healy#angst#radio host#reader#x reader#x you#george daniel#ross macdonald#the 1975 band#adam hann#fluff#humour#smut#matty healy fic#matty 1975#matty healy x reader#matty x reader#matty healy x you#ao3#fame#strangers to lovers#mum reader#kid fic#getting together#SLOWBURN#mutual pining#Warnings#aipoban
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What's his podcast/radio show called?
#podcast names#funny names#puns#jokes#gimmie your best#radio host#podcaster#cat cosplay#cosplay#cats#kitty#cats in costumes#cat#aww#cat costume#cats of tumblr#fan art
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“I present you! The most lovable radio host in today’s broadcast:
Ȁ̸̰͓̘̣̭̈́̅̏ļ̴̝͈̫̑̒a̵̬̍́͆̌̚ș̵͖̈̒̀ṯ̶̡̢̨̣͌̓̋õ̶̦̿͐̀̚r̶͕̘͖̓̀!!”
Besides being a radio host and serial killer, I am very curious on how his human life was? Hope to see that in the next few seasons of the show! I miss seeing the ace in a hole pal!!
(It’s so much fun to draw Alastor, I wonder if it’s the ‘smiling all the time face’ that is entertaining?)
#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#radio host#alastor human#human alastor#hazbin hotel art#digital art#illustration#my art
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RADIO appearance (1) | e.m & s.h
Pairing: Rockstar!EddieMunson x Radiohost Fem Reader x BandManager!SteveHarrington
Summary: You're seemingly going nowhere at your job at Studio 66. You finally get your big break when your boss meets a terrible fate. Given the opportunity to become Mental in the Morning's newest radio host, you embark on a never before experience when you fall into a love triangle between Corroded Coffins, Eddie Munson, and his manager, Steve Harrington, all while trying not to lose yourself to your sudden fame. What will you choose?
Warnings: Cursing, Misogyny, Love Triangle, Sexual harassment in the workplace, eventual smut, Drug and alcohol use, slowburn, mentions of blood, Character death
Authors note: Wanted to give writing on Tumblr a try. Let me know how you like the story and thanks for reading.💗💗
Word count: 2,463
RADIO appearance ⭑ materiel list
Divider credits- @cafekitsune
Circa’ 1991
Spike Van Dyke was an idiot.
He was the type to ask you for the time, even though he had a shiny metal Rolex banded around his wrist, just to purely get on your nerves. Spike was the type of person to play obnoxious clown honks and buzzers on his morning radio show as hungover parents rushed their children off to school in their minivans or Subarus. Spike also was the person to ask you if you were "Mental in the Morning?!" And if you weren't, you would get sprayed with silly string and get kicked in the tush.
Spike didn't like me; well, he acted like he didn't like me. Said I had the type of looks that made a freight train take a dirt road, per se, compared to Candace "Candi" Jones.
Here comes the sad part. My family says it's sad, but I like to think otherwise: After being told I wasn't good enough, I didn't quit. Anyone with an ounce of self-respect in their bones and dignity in their gut would quit after being told they weren't good enough, but I stayed. I've been Spike's humbled assistant for four years now—not like he needed one, though.
Despite being obnoxious and sometimes rude, Spike was a low-maintenance guy. A day's work for me is grabbing him bottled water after he's choking on a fly, getting into his mouth from gawking at Candace.
"Metal fucking sucks." The sound of a crowd booing and then a loud tuba-sounding "Womp womp womp" plays in the background—radio imaging.
Now where was I? Spike Van Dyke was—is—an idiot.
The big and bright “ON AIR” sign lit up my face as I watched from outside Studio 66.
“Now Spike, you aren’t saying that because Corroded Coffin is coming to studio 66 tomorrow, right?” Candice said, a shit-eating grin plastered on her lips. He only kept Candice as the co-host of Mental in the Morning because she once flashed him her big silicon Double D tits at a wet tank top contest he was hosting.
“Oh, that’s a load of bullshit, Candi. And you wanna know why?” “Why?” “You wanna know why that’s bullshit, Candi? Because I hadn’t even heard of crowded coffee—” “Corroded Coffin.” “Until you just brought them up seconds ago.” Spike shrugs, leaning his back in his seat and swinging his feet in his chair because they barely touch the ground.
“I don’t know, Spike, you have a reputation for making your guests mad. Remember when you called Madonna a sellout?”
“She never denied it.”
“And when you called Steven Tyler a creep?”
"That one's true and we all know it."
"Ok, so let me get this straight: are YOU, Spike Van Dyke, going to play nice tomorrow for the Corroded Coffin boys?"
Spike shrugs again. "Depends, Candi, why don't you play one of crowded coffee—" "Corroded Coffin." "Eh.. yeah, why don't you play one of their songs? I'll have my conclusion at the end of the break."
"Welp, you heard it folks, whatever Spike wants, he gets. Here's "Hellmouth" from Corroded Coffin's sophomore album "Mutilation, Sickness, and a Little Death." Make sure you all stay tuned after the break, and also don't forget to stay—"Candice points to Spike, and in his dreadful, languid voice, he says: "Mental in the Morning."
At a click of a button, the dark and muddy strings of Corroded Coffin's "Hellmouth" ring through the speakers of studio 66; by the time the long interlude is over, I only hear a snippet of Munson's throaty singing before Candice and Spike come out of the studio.
The "ON AIR" sign is now turned off, but it's only until the break is over. "That was a good take, guys." I softly say as Candice and Spike leave the studio.
Y'know, when I was five, I dressed up as a brick wall for Halloween--I'd thought it'd be funny. Who knew I'd still be in the same costume fifteen years later? Spike walks straight past me, like the wall I am.
Candice does pay mind to me, leaning beside the same wall as I, looking at the short and stout Spike Van Dyke going straight to his favorite intern--Bonnie, I think her name is--just to mess with her for his shits and giggles.
"Should I start making apology gift baskets now?" I ask her.
She asks. "Maybe he'll have a change of heart this time? You know, I've noticed he hasn't been staring at my breast as much lately. I think that's a sign for something."
"A sign for what?" Now it was my turn to tsk. "That he's finally gone through the lobotomy he so desperately needs?"
I look up at her, and she's laughing. Candice wasn't that much taller than me, but her hot pink stilettos made me look like Stuart Little standing beside her. I join in on the laughter, too. But the joyous moment is cut short when we hear an "eek!" from the intern and see Spike pinching up the ends of her frilly white skirt.
"Poor girl." Candice says. "One day he's going to mess with the wrong person." Candice mutters.
Black and green sludge starts swishing in my body, and I think I will be sick. I watched the intern's skin become extremely pallid, and her eyes turned a shade of fear. Any other time, her skin would be pretty porcelain, like an antique doll you'll find in an upscale market, and her eyes would shine the brightest green.
"I hate to say it, but it's kind of like a rite of passage for the girls of Studio 66 to get hounded by Spike, right?" I hear Candice say from afar; she sees I'm gone when she looks over.
And out of the emergency exit and down three flights of stairs I go, I find myself in front of studio 66, looking out at the crowded streets of New York City, and thinking of Bonnie, the girl with porcelain skin, and Candice, the 5'8 glamazon.
A "Rite of Passage" it was. It wasn't a shocker when Spike liked you; he shows it. He's done it to many women prior before he's done it to Candice, and now he's doing it to Bonnie. Bonnie was just an intern today, but she'll be Spike's new assistant tomorrow. Why hadn't Spike taken a liking to me? Well, according to him, I'm "too boring." I’m simply plain and simple—old, boring Y/N.
I know it's wrong, but how else should I feel? It's not like I wanted to get filled up by Spike; that's disgusting, but if that meant I get to do something at my job or move up a position, then so be it.
Fuck. How would I do that when Spike doesn't even look at me?
Bonnie was about to be promoted while I was off somewhere, filling out yet another job application. Maybe I'll apply to Coney Island. At least then, I'll have the joyous laughter of children or exciting screams from amusement parkgoers to drown my sorrows.
"You have an expressive face." A voice says beside me. I look up at the stranger; his fluffy-looking hair draws my attention away from his face. The warm stink of nicotine fills my nostrils, and I feel the hairs on my body prick the fabric of my clothes. When I relaxed my face, I realized how scrunched tight I had it.
"Jesus, what kind of deep shit are you in, kid?" He asks. He says "kid" as if he and I didn't look remotely close in age.
"You got another one of those?" I say, pointing to the cigarette hanging out the corner of his mouth. Without hesitation, he goes into his left boot, pulling out a pack of Camels. I pull out a cigarette--his last one. When I have the cigarette in my mouth, he whips a white lighter with its blazing flames.
"Thanks." I say, my voice almost muffled. I nearly gag from the nicotine as I smoke it.
Cigarettes sucked. They only looked cool as an accessory--accompanied by a cup of coffee and some old French novel. Other times, cigarettes look fantastic when they're used by guys who stare at you so intensely, waiting to hear what you have to say.
"Um--" I freeze; his eyes roll down my body before meeting my eyes again. "It's rude to stare," I say, nerves starting to leave my body as the nicotine seeps in.
"It's rude to leave people hanging." He snaps back. "What's gotten you so pressed?"
I huff, "Spike Van Dyke, that's what."
He hums. "With a name like that, how couldn't he? Did his mother even love him?" I let out a nervous chuckle, somewhat wary about talking to the stranger, but he gave me his last cigarette, which meant he was ok?
"We're in the same boat, y'know?" he says, playing with the cigarette between his fingers.
"He'd hit on your girlfriend or something?" I cock my eyebrow, and I feel a smile form on my lips. "Say he did hit on your girlfriend, and you're here to kick his ass; you wouldn't say anything if I let you in without a badge?"
"No, I'm not here to kick his ass." He breathily laughs. "Your funny." He says. I wasn't joking. I deadpan.
"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington." He introduces.
Why does the name seem so familiar? I squint my eyes at him.
"Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n."
"So, I take it you work here." he points his thump to the building. "At Studio 66?"
"Not for long; I'll be working at Coney Island soon. I could get you tickets, perhaps?
He laughs again, and for the second time, I wasn't joking.
"Yeah, my band--the band I'm managing--you've might've heard of them? Corroded Coffin? I'm here for them."
Something in my brain snaps.
"You're Corroded Coffin's manager." I state that's why his name was so familiar. "You're the one we talked to about the interview."
He nods. "Yep." he drags. "That's me."
"I didn't expect you to be so..."
Good-looking? The good-looking that would make you instantly popular--taking it back to my high school days. Most of the managers I've met in the past have been the Spike Van Dyke type, y'know, bald and plump with deceitful eyes and a deceitful chin and wandering hands.
"Preppy? Not the type to manage a band who sings about war, destruction, doom and misery?"
"Took the words right out of my mouth."
"I'm reminded of it every day." He says, now leaning on the cold brick wall, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his dark blue bomber jacket.
"Your interview isn't until tomorrow." I say.
"Yeah, but I'm here to talk to Spike, that guys an idiot."
As if that still needed to be established.
"I bet you won't say that to his face." I dare.
With a smirk on his lips and a sparkle in his eyes, he took me up on the challenge.
Spike took Steve's comment well, I think.
"Ok, so what do you want me to do?" Spike shrugged.
"All I'm saying is, Corroded Coffin won't do the interview if you're going to be a..."
Steve's eyes met mine. I look at him wide-eyed and boggled, sitting on the edge of my seat beside Spike's desk. Steve jitters a bit, switching all his weight from one foot to another.
"An asshole."
I would've preferred the word "dickhead" instead, but "asshole" is close enough.
"But "asshole" is my brand. If you or Corroded Coffin don't like it, I'm glad to not have you all on my show."
"Should I remind you that we were the ones to get a voicemail from you guys? You're the one that wants us here. My group will be damned if you think we're going to let you disrespect us." To convey his authority, Steve places both hands on his hips. A smirk creeps onto my lips.
Spike squints his eyes, gnawing his teeth. "Who sent you here?" He asks. "Was it that hotshot—what's his name? I forget." Spike snaps his fingers. "Munson."
Steve scoffs. "I'm here on the behalf of all of Corroded Coffin."
Spike rolls his eyes and says: "Y'know Munson has a "bad" reputation himself. I'd seen his little stunt he pulled with Rush the Radio a few weeks back."
As if it were him involved in the horrendous event, Steve mutters a "Jesus Christ" and runs his fingers through his bouncy hair.
"I mean, who gets mad like that over one little question? My poor guy Rush is still paying for the damages that little shithead caused."
It was Steve's turn to squint his eyes and gnaw at his teeth.
"You all should be grateful that another radio host wants to have the spawns of Satan on their show." Spike continues.
With a few nibbles of his fingertips and a long, harsh stare, Steve concluded:
"Let's agree to disagree. If you don't act like such an asshole, my guys won't either." Steve says.
"Harrington, I think we have a deal." I had a crawling suspicion that Spike had his fingers crossed behind his back.
Steve and Spike shook on it, thus the ending of their little spat. It was not climactic enough, but indeed, it was entertaining. Spike gets my name wrong when telling me to walk Steve out.
"Problem solved?" Steve says, seemingly trying to convince himself and me that "the problem" was resolved. When really, that was only the tip of the iceberg.
Steve gives me a piece of paper with his personal number on it; his fingertips touch mine in a subtle exchange. I feel a sting of heat that twinges my body; I blame the August searing heat. Steve says to call him if anything significant happens between now and tomorrow, though I highly doubt it.
I watched Steve walk down the pavement and turn the corner to 13th Street. I feel a small smile creep onto my lips, holding the piece of paper with his number on it close to my chest.
When I return to Studio 66, my smile fades when I watch everyone scatter around in a frenzy. My eyes follow the pattern of warm blood that puddles to my ankles. The trail of blood seems never-ending, but that myth is busted when my eyes land on a good as dead(?) Spike Van Dyke.
His eyes were stapled shut, followed by a few staples around his dome and neck. My eyes followed the body that hovered over him. Bonnie—the porcelain skin—intern, hovers over Spike's unconscious body, a stapler in her hand.
#Eddie munson x reader#Steve harrington x reader#love triangle#90s#stranger things#x reader#steddie fic#rockstar eddie munson#radio host#corroded coffin
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I love you Wendy 🫶🏽
#black girl aesthetic#black girl blogger#black girls of tumblr#black girl joy#pinterest#black girl magic#soft life#black girl beauty#luxury#wendy williams#radiohead#radio host#wendy#bet
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Scarlett Howard
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Alastor is answering your questions on his radio show despite some technical glitches
Need advice? Just want to chat? Just ask away!
#ask Alastor#Alastor is on air#Alastor the radio demon#story blog#hells greatest performers au#hazbin hotel#radio host#he wants a distraction lol
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Douglas Blackwood
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Both the most popular man and town and the recluse of town, Douglas Blackwood is known as the charismatic, charming voice of the radio in Crow’s Rest. Husband of Bayley Blackwood and known associate of several characters, such as Varric Nightingale and Dr. Loveless, Douglas lives in the radio station to the northwest of town and is rarely seen engaging in the Lord’s affairs.
Although, that doesn’t mean he isn’t keeping an eye on them. He is the eyes and ears of this town, after all.
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Redraw of @void-walker-gaster’s character for FL, Douglas! He’s played minor roles in the novel of FL so far, but is still important nonetheless!
#oc#not my oc#small artist#digital art#Douglas Blackwood#Douglas x bayley#these refs are more up to date so in the novel they’re dating but if it were to advance to current day they’d be married#FOUR LORDS#radio#radio host#pansexual#polyamorous
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Pirate Radio "Freedom 64" :D hahaha :)
#pirate radio#pirate radiostation#pirates#radio stream#radio host#radio broadcasting#radio show#commodore 64#commodore64#mountains#female model#live broadcast#broadcast illusion#radio#sunset#transmission
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Ugh started as a Joke OC now I'm in love
#danganronpa antebellum#Lyra Satellite#anime art#danganronpa oc#fanganronpa#fanganronpa oc#radio host
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A very yellow attack on @bubblyernie !
This is one of my favorite pieces I’ve done this year I think!
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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |
Part One
Matty Healy x reader
Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.
What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?
Warnings: This is gonna deal with a lot of controversial shit surrounding Matty and his past I'm ngl, so if you're not into that then I'd suggest not reading this! But if you are, then hi!! I hope you enjoy?
Authors Note: I'm back...:)) Back with a series too, or it will be if this first part goes down well! Lmao so pls don't hate it! Butttt in all honestly, I do have to quickly thank @procrastinatinglikeapro for all the kind words she gave me on the snippets I annoyed her with recently and for forcing me to actually believe in this fic because I very much was on the fence about posting again. So thank youuuu, it means a whole lot<3 Also, the skeleton of this was taken from a very old fic of mine which I started during the height of covid that I've just been thinking about trying to better for a long while now, so... enjoy?
And I guess let me know if this is something anyone would want to read more of? Yeeeeah, I really don't know what else to write here now, it's been a while, so! Hi, help, bye:)
Masterlist
“Yeah, yeah! I’m really into their sound at the minute! Honestly fell in love with their recent performance at the VMA’s- didn’t overdo it and kept true to themselves. Definitely did a great job there, so well done with that one if you’re listening in, lads!”
I was grinning from ear to ear as I spoke into the microphone before me, which was to be expected whenever I was at work. Strange, yeah I know, but only to any typical person with the usual nine to five, because I truly did love my job. It was tough work, strenuous at times, contrary to what most might believe, but it was pretty much everything I’d ever dreamt of.
See, I’d grown up on the outskirts of this tiny village in the Isles, where everybody knew everything about everybody. Secrets were never well kept- you could just ask our local priest about that one, who had often used to regale most of the confessions he’d heard in the only pub around for miles whenever he was pissed beyond being able to sit on his barstool. And it was also incredibly tight-knit, as in, all the kids who went to school together, then grew up and married one another, settling down and taking over the jobs that their parents or grandparents soon retired from. Hardly anyone moved away, if ever.
In reality though, it was actually just a place I’d always felt like a stranger in. Where I’d struggled to fit in and make friends, to form bonds outside of the one I shared with my mum.
I’d had a tough go of it back in school actually. ‘Mouse’ was what they’d seemingly dubbed me back then, a nickname which had travelled the masses all too quickly seeing as there had only been about sixteen kids in both my year and the one above.
It had mostly been due to me just having been an extremely timid child, hiding behind my mum’s flowing skirts whenever we went into town and much preferring that of my own company. But that fact hadn’t gotten any easier for me once I’d been forced out of school for a few years after an accident that had flipped my entire life on its head. Resulting in me being further isolated from the rest of the world and my fuck-face of a father running for the hills.
Still. Shit happened, I supposed, and I’d been forced to grow up.
Too quickly, in truth.
So whilst everyone else had been out living, I’d been holed up in our little dove cottage miles away from them all, with only books and music to keep me company. Music which had been a true constant in my life and just about the only thing that had gotten me by.
As well as my mum, who’d forever be my rock. And back when we’d both been growing up, she had always had the tele on full blast throughout the day, cycling through the freeview channels that played the recent top 50 and old school classics.
It was one of my favourite things to look back on now, if she was ever in the mood, or when the power would finally flicker and go out completely, she’d spin this old phonograph her own father had gifted her in the days before she’d left home. The two of us would dance around the living room whilst she’d clean on Saturday mornings and then hum to it as we settled in for a long storm, her working on her trusty crossword whilst I would read or draw. It would croon out old French records she had bought long before she’d moved to the UK, and before she’d ever even met my dad.
And I would just lose myself in it all.
It wasn’t just the basic premise of music that I had enjoyed though, it was everything else that also came along with it. The opinions, the reviews, the personal stories and thoughts, the way it made a person feel.
So, for years I would just sit down at the kitchen table and write for hours on end about the sound, the rhythms I’d felt and heard, the lyrics that had had me bellowing out or playing on a never-ending loop in my head. And then, as a teen, Twitter had come along and had been just another way for me to express it all.
That was what had led to all this actually. The radio.
At first, I’d never paid much mind to all of the people who had started to discover the small page I’d created, the users that had enjoyed reading my inner thoughts. But then I had and it had been an insane concept to comprehend, but was also what had, ultimately, pushed me into continuing with it.
From there, opinions on genres of music and their style throughout different decades turned into thoughts on up and coming artists, then actors and other A-list celebrities. So, I’d ended up spending an awful lot of time online, simply just tweeting about it all, on subjects followers had wanted to hear about and answering questions on whether I loved a certain album or new EP.
The account had grown rapidly after and by the time I’d had the balls to tell my mum I’d wanted to leave home and make a start for myself, in London of all places, it had gained well over fifteen thousand followers.
I went to uni down there and met people. People who didn’t shy away from me or shine a light on my odd quirks. I met my best mate there, too. And Finn was unlike any other. The platonic love of my life, or so I’d dubbed. He was eccentric, witty, and didn’t care about what anyone else thought of him. Forced me to feel that way too, slowly but surely. And it had only taken a few weeks before he'd grown rather suspicious of my constant need to always have my phone near.
He had, pretty early on, decided that I must’ve had some secret boyfriend back at home that I’d yet to tell him about and had annoyed me about it at every twist and turn, basically backed me into a metaphorical corner. So to say I’d relented fairly quickly wouldn’t be a lie, and I’d told him all about the account soon enough.
Finn had actually been the one to suggest that I take it somewhere bigger, make it into something people could tune into and not just read about. I had actually taken that consideration on board way back then, but had only acted on it when shit had hit the fan a year or so later. But we'll get to that.
So with it all, I’d made an actual radio show out of my thoughtless Twitter account, allowing people to listen in and actually get to know the person behind the name.
That was essentially how ‘Mouse On A Mic' had come to life.
Yup, I’d kept the fucking nickname! I couldn’t not in truth, it was familiar, reminded me of the person I once was, and who I am now. But the only difference was, I’d given it a new story. I’d claimed it.
The show's audience grew fairly quickly during that first year, I was new on the scene and seemingly refreshing. I had a no-bullshit kind of attitude that my listeners admired. I called celebs out on their crap and went to new extremes to conjure up inventive ways to get followers involved.
Ultimately doing things that other radio presenters were afraid to do at the time. Which was fair enough, in hindsight, they had actual endorsers and brands that were backing them up and funding their streams. Me, on the other hand, had no-one to answer to for my mistakes or any backlash the show received. It was just me, sat alone in my bedroom, speaking into a mic.
Only now, it was me sitting in a quaint little studio in East, not too far from my flat and walking distance from any and every coffee chain London had to offer.
Anyway, back to the current show! I adjusted my headset over my ear as I wheeled closer to the table, aware of the many monitors and cables I was constantly trying to avoid and glanced upwards, locking eyes with my co-producer, Adi.
The girl shot me a hurried gesture, a circular wave of her hand that had me chuckling to myself even as I waved her off, knowing I’d already gotten off track one too many times this recording.
"Alright! It seems as though we've got to move on with the next segment of the show now! Unfortunately, Ads here has informed me that I can't just sit around all day and talk about Inhaler forever. A right shame that, don’t you think?”
I huffed theatrically, whilst Adi merely shook her head at me in return, dark ringlets brushing the length of her shoulders as she mouthed the word 'prick' through the thick sheet of plexiglass that separated us.
Ignoring that loving endearment in favour of continuing on with the commentary, I hoped I hadn’t steered too far off track, there was still a lot scheduled for today's show that I had yet to go over.
“So moving on!” I sighed into the mic and rubbed my palms together, “It seems like quite a few of you lot, on Twitter especially, have made it loudly known that you want to hear my thoughts on Manchester’s very own Matthew Healy. God, is there yet another scandal under his belt I don’t yet know about, where’s he finding the time?”
I shook my head briefly and rolled forward in my seat. The wheels squeaked beneath my weight and I made a silent prayer that the mics hadn’t picked up the sound.
What a fucking topic, I thought quietly to myself and sent Adi a semi-amused smile before I peered down at the recent headline she had handed over to me earlier that morning.
It was the same old thing. Expected really at this point.
“Healy’s at it again! Whatever will we do?” I gasped, dramatising the whole thing as I stared down at the images of the haughty singer that were plastered across the printout I held in front of me.
There were four of them, a quick succession that had all seemingly come from a clip at a recent concert. Bit blurry but the title gave away to what was happening.
A laugh bubbled up out of me as soon as I read the headline. “Oh god, it appears Matty Healy is- just wait for it!- back at it again, only this time it seems he’s gone and traded off a drumstick for…” I paused to drum quite the anticipating beat against the tabletop, and as stoic as I could, I then added, “A joint!” And a smug grin made its way up onto my lips when I heard Adi’s faint cackle echo from just outside the booth.
“Honestly, I swear that everything this man does makes the rags! Reckon I saw an article about how he took his tea one time. And like, do me a favour, yeah? A man of the people though, in’t he? He’s got to be! I mean, just look at this headline. Fucking who the hell writes this shit?”
Tossers, I supposed. But even so.
“It’s madness.” I muttered, clucking my tongue, “But anyway, I’m guessing that most people claim him to be the epitome of a realtime rockstar, and sure, he might just be. 'Sex, drugs, rock & roll', all that shit. But how much longer is it going to last until everything goes tits up, hey?
“I mean, Healy can pretty much do whatever he wants at this point, he’s got half the world either falling at his feet or complaining about him- has done since he was what, a kid? Following his parents among the shadows of their fame before he stepped out and made an actual name for himself. It is insane to see how much he’s changed though!”
And it was. He and his band had risen to fame so evidently, their music was everywhere, they sold out shows constantly, and had the privilege to fly across the globe doing whatever they pleased. But they’d also practically grown up in the limelight, Matty especially. So it was hard not to notice the resounding changes.
“But, if I am being truthful. And when am I not? I thought that most of the shit that went around about him at first was a load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that. Or just him being an idiot, a lad who’s had to grow up with all these cameras on him all the time and had to basically learn what he can and can’t say in front of them. Slipping up from time to time, like most do. But, now? I’m honestly not too sure… It’s just a bit sad. In’t it? There was so much potential there.”
I shrugged, a hearty sigh falling with my shoulders.
“I actually used to quite like his stuff a couple years ago, he’s got a way with words, with just music overall really. Reckon if he’d gotten his shit together he could’ve been ranked higher up on the list of rockstars. Could’ve changed or paved a way for newer musicians. But not so much anymore. His songs lack the passion they once had, they’re not what they used to be. He works hard, I’ll give him that. But, I can’t help but wonder if it’s just his band pulling his dead weight along with them now.”
I took a slow breath, then gazed down at the small amount of sticky notes I had pinned to the monitor beside me: the next segment. I’d have to wrap this one up quickly.
“Maybe that’s a bit harsh.” I said, “But honestly, I just hope he takes an actual break sooner rather than later. The band looks spent and he just seems like he could do with some time away from all the cameras and prying eyes. Just so he can sort himself out good and proper, you know? Then again, that’s just my opinion among a sea of many.”
Truthfully? I really did think that Matty had talent, and he seemed like a sound enough guy- or at least he had done, a couple of years back, before all the controversy and whatever else. Now though, the guy just seemed so caught up in it all, in the fame, the tabloids, the drama. Unaware of just how far he’d fallen.
Me, I’d seen it one too many times before, with many of the greats even, and as painful as it was to watch, what more could I do, or say? I'm a nobody in comparison.
I blew out a short breath.
“Fuck, that got all serious didn’t it?” I tried to laugh off and only felt a little more at ease when I glanced up and caught Adi’s sincere smile, “Anyway, onto our next segment, reading a couple of your lots tweets! Let's see what everyone's saying about our amazing Adi today, hey? What was it last week, Ads- those yellow trousers you were wearing?”
--
“Oi, will you two stop mucking about, please? We’ve got to get going!” I scolded without any real heat, shaking my head as I held back chuckles, always amused by the infamous pair.
I’d not long left the studio, having walked with Adi to the nearby train station before heading over to Finn’s, and was currently packing away the belongings that had been messily upended from the Spiderman backpack I was often seen carrying about.
My gaze wandered over to the other side of the room once I’d teethed together the bag’s plastic zipper, over to where my son, Teddy, was currently in the midst of being whirled around by his godfather, tawny coloured curls flying in every-which direction as his cheeky grin grew even more prominent.
I felt the corners of my mouth tug upwards as I watched my best mate laugh at whatever the toddler had just said, tickling the boy’s sides too. If I was feeling incredibly sappy, I’d tell Finn then just how thankful I was to have him around, because he truly was incredible.
From the moment I’d found out that I was pregnant, Finn had been there for me. He loved my son almost as though Teddy was his own, he adored the kid like no other and had placed him on a pedestal above everyone else since the day he was born.
Finn was always free to take teddy whenever I had the show to fret about too, or if I was ever in dire need of another helping hand. He was fiercely protective of the two of us and I knew in the very depths of my heart that there would never be a hair harmed on my son’s head as long as he was around.
I was pulled from my thoughts just as the toddler in question came bounding over, giggling uncontrollably as Finn chased after him, his arms stretched out wide and crouched down to mimic the small boy's height. I couldn't help but notice the matching grins they both wore.
“Help!” Teddy squealed as he flung himself into my awaiting arms, allowing me to wrap him up and settle him safely on my hip, using my frame as a shield to block him from Finn’s view.
"You can't hide from me Teds, I’ll always find you!" Finn taunted playfully, laughing merrily as he wiggled his fingers at Teddy, who was only just peeking out at him from over my shoulder.
Teddy squirmed in my grasp, giggling and screaming senselessly as he tried to dodge Finn’s oncoming hands that had since managed to softly graze his sides. I could only roll his eyes in fond exasperation, the pair never failing to brighten my day, and I couldn't help but feel ever so grateful for whatever being had brought Finn into both mine and Teddy’s lives.
You see, Finn was the closest thing I’d ever had to a brother, let alone a best friend. He’d been the family I’d never known I’d needed, a home away from home. And I knew that I could always count on him for just about anything and he had proved that the day I’d turned up on his doorstep in the pissing rain one Tuesday night, utterly terrified after having just found out that I was pregnant.
“Alright, you lot!” I began, batting away one of Finn’s oncoming hands as he made to grab at Teddy's tiny ankle. “We've got to get home in time for your bath and tea, and I think Finn here has to pick up Liv from work.”
I was directing my voice towards the toddler in my arms but also sent a knowing look Finn’s way, one which caused the man’s eyes to widen in immediate realisation. ‘Liv’ was actually Olivia, Finn’s newest fling, only she had managed to last quite a while longer than the rest, a new record for him really.
“Shit, yeah.” Finn muttered before he hurried over to his desk in the far corner. I could only chuckle quietly, Teddy joining in too when he noticed, and watch on as he hastily started to grab at an array of items, shoving them into his jean pockets. Phone. Wallet. Keys.
When he was finished, Finn spun back around towards us and shot an accusing brow our way, not too pleased about having been the source of our amassment. Teddy and I couldn't help ourselves then and laughed a little harder at his impervious expression.
With that done and over with, I pressed my nose against the side of Teddy's head and smiled contently into his curls whilst Finn merely rolled his eyes at us, chuckling before he made a start for the door. I followed just behind, Teddy's backpack slung low over my shoulder and a happy little boy nestled in my arms.
***
People lover @/user1
Imagine being a mediocre radio host and thinking you know the ins and outs of the music industry.. #CancelMouse
102 @/user2
Don't mind me, reckon I just found my new favourite radio show:)
Ugh! @/user3
Mouse sounded proper excited today but switched up so quick when that 75 bloke came up://
Soloveme @/user4
Hate to see people supporting toxic behaviour, sit down.
Milk @/user5
Don’t hate me, I'll forever be a matty girlie!! But @Mouseonamic I kinda agree??
Paris @/user6
Do you think he’s seen it yet?
> Too_shy @/user7
Probably, it’s trending rn
>> Drummepls @/user8
Hope he’s okay and doesn’t take it as a personal attack..
He should’ve known really.
He should’ve fucking known.
Even in his drunken state he should have known not to look at what they were fucking saying about him. Slumped on the floor of his hotel room, propped up against the bathroom door, too exhausted to think about moving, let alone try.
He’d only heard a snippet, caught the last of it in the cab ride back from the club the band had found themselves in. But he had heard it, and he’d listened.
"He's got the whole world falling at his feet." He fucking wished. "Changed." Too right. "A load of crap- publicity of sorts, if you get where I'm going with that- but now I'm not too sure." Laughable, man. "It's just a bit sad." The story of his fucking life. "Potential." When’s he never not disappointing someone? "Lacks passion." Passion lies in living, mate, and he hasn't felt alive in a very long time.
"Not what it used to be." Who he used to be.
He lit another cigarette from a crumpled pack he’d pulled from his back pocket. Watched on as a curl of smoke unfurled in the air. He only wished he’d brought something upstairs with him, or grabbed one of the little bottles from the minibar before deciding he’d needed a piss. But if he closed his eyes hard enough he could imagine it all going dark, the world fading around him.
Though, even then he still couldn’t quite muffle the loud, pitying laugh that escaped him as he continued to scroll through the mass of tweets that never faltered. They were like a freight train, unable to stop.
Matty wiped his nose on his sleeve.
Never had he ever felt so fucking lost. Desperate for everything to just pause for a second. To stop and leave him alone for a bit. The world to let him wallow in the dark, dank pit he's hollowed out for himself.
But what a fucking life, hey.
Carelessly, he thumbed across the dimming screen, his intoxicated mind too focused on the task at hand to remember why exactly it was he was even sitting there on the cold bathroom floor. Something to do with Hann, he supposed, or George. Perhaps another heated encounter? Probably.
The sound of his phone's keyboard echoed off the surrounding walls and Matty breathed out a self-depreciating chuckle when he clicked send on the tweet he’d curated, not caring enough for the consequences. Hardly even thinking, in truth. He was far too gone to care anymore, already knew firsthand what the consequences would be tomorrow. But at that moment, he just wanted honesty. To tell the truth, for once. To let them all know that he knew he was a shit excuse for a person.
What more could the world possibly say anyway?
Everyone around him was the same. He was simply just a puppet on a string. They’d make him sing and dance until the day he finally wrapped those wired strings tightly around his neck, and then all they'd be able to do is sit back and watch the show. And he'd enjoy every unabating second of it.
Matty @/trumanblack 10s ago
Radio shows are sick man, gotta love them! And I sort of am sad haha. And I do lie, we all lie, I spose. But just listen to the radio, kids!
He laughed silently after, amused with himself, and tossed the phone off somewhere off to the side so he wouldn’t have to look at it again.
Bullshit. It was all just fucking bullshit.
#the 1975#fic#matty healy#angst#radio host#reader#x reader#x you#george daniel#ross macdonald#the 1975 band#adam hann#fluff#humour#matty healy fic#matty 1975#matty healy x reader#matty x reader#matty healy x you#ao3#pining#fame#strangers to lovers#mum reader#kid fic#kinda#getting together#SLOWBURN#mutual pining#Warnings
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🎙WE ARE NOW LIVE📻
"[Hellllooooo Cyber City!!] [This is your][[#1RatedHost]] [Spam-][SPAMTON G SPAMTON]!!!"
Hi everyone!! This is Radio Host! (If you've been following me I've been tagging him-) He's my latest Spamton EX, an eldritch terror mixed with radio waves. He's here to deliver songs and news and reach [HEAVEN] if he can!
More info about him under the cut!
Abandoned after the NEO fight, the Sweet Cap'n Cakes gang found him. Deciding to fix him up, they took him to an abandoned radio station.
They were planning on giving him a new body, so they hooked him up to the station to make the transfer easier. But it ended...horribly.
Spamton fused and melded into the station, becoming the building and everything else inside. A shapeshifting horror so to speak.
He can form bodies and heads, he has true and fake heads and bodies. The fake ones can't talk and are more of cameras. The real ones can. And they're MASSIVE.
The building shifts and changes. An organic monstrosity of plastic, metal, and wires. All mixed in with radios.
His real, original body is locked away. He'll only show it if he fully trusts you, as that's his only area that's vulnerable. You can kill the heads and bodies and he'll be fine. Angry but fine. But not his original puppet body.
He sometimes makes those real bodies to move around, but they always come out wrong. Too many eyes, arms, hands, heads, whatever, too fused with the walls, all that jazz. Because of this he always moves unnaturally.
The building body can move! Just takes a lot of energy.
His voice is mostly gone. Replaced with songs and other programs. If his real voice comes out, he'd be surprised.
He's angry too.
Anyways hope you like!! He's been a fun Spamton EX to work on!!
Tagging: @dewisp @clovitecture @mystrunmah @fictional-bear-friend @eternally-smitten @jocelynships | lmk if you wanna be taken off or added on
#🥞 cake art#spamton <3#spamton#spamton g spamton#spamton ex#deltarune au#digital art#traditonal art#radio#radio host#please let me post this Tumblr
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«Yeah, he was just that kind of guy... But then one day, he goes and kills us all! He couldn't even be original about the way he did it. I'm not complaining... I was dying of boredom anyway...»
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DJ Scip and Dr. Sherman
#scp#scp foundation#Foundation After Midnight Radio#site 42#podcast#researcher#fan art#fanart#scp art#scp cards#radio host#theesherman#dj scip
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campbell bain <3
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