#gg talks

(matty healy x daughter!r)

a/n: guys I hate this so bad this was meant for me to get back into writing but this is lowk ass u don’t have to tell me and I’m not like ‘omgggg this is so bad like actually really good im just fishing’ no but guys im serious this isnt my best work but fuck it. ill get better I swear

Anonnnnn I hope you recive the cozy vibes I was trying to give in this one at least

warnings: insomnia but not officially, r hasn't slept in 4 days, protective matty, r age not specified but i imagine her a bit younger. no more older than 14 tho but imaigine how u want it's ur brain

wc: 838

This wasn't the first night you'd spent starring aimlessly at the ceiling, and certainly not the last. Fourth night this week actually.

The time on the alarm clock sitting on your side table illuminated ‘3:38 am’ in bright red. That's how long you lasted, that's when the tears started to come. Not sobbing, nothing dramatic. Just silent tears. Exauhsted tears. You burried your face in your pillow, as if it could silence your thoughts and stop the tears from falling down your cheeks.

With a frustrated sigh you pushed your duvet back and stood. Your eyes adjusted to the soft lighting in the hallway as you walked form your room to your father's bedroom door.

There was a soft glow illumilating form under his door. There was a chance he might be awake. It's not like he had the perfect sleep schedule ethier, however his evening redevous were more voluntary than yours.

You raised a fist up to the door to softly knock. Then you hesitated. He told you to come get him if it happened again. You were met with angry grunts and sassy eye rolls when you told him about your lack of sleep at the breakfast table for the last 3 days. And he had to have known it would happen again, right?

Still, you always convinced yourself you would have been a bother, even now at your (what you liked to think was) grown age.

You let your hand fall back to your side, deciding not to bring him into this - there might not have been anything he could have done anyways.

Before you could turn and carefully trace your footsteps back to your room, careful not to step on any spots that might creek, you heard him call from inside.

"Come in, darling."

You paused, genuine shock, before opening reaching for the door knob. You opened it, just slightly, as if you were still afraid to be noticed. From your position you saw him sitting on his bed, guitar layed carefully on the opposite side, blue hoodie on, hair a mess like usual, and phone in hand. Something was playing from his phone as he scrolled. You could only assume it to be a dumb tiktok about music, the state of the world, or maybe even himself actually.

"How'd you know I was here?" You said, softly, finally walking in and slowly shutting the door gently behind you as if it wasn't just you and your father in the house.

He shrugged and turned his phone off. "I could feel your gloomy aura eminating from the other side of the door." he said plainly. You rolled you eyes.

You stood awkward by the door as he leaned back on the bed. "Did you get any sleep at all?" He asked, sounding like he was begging.

You shook your head and let your gaze fall to the floor. He sighed. You hated hearing the disapointment in his voice, even though you knew it wasn't directly aimed at you.

"How many night exactly?" He said more than asked, still voice soft.

"A few."

"Y/n." He gently warned.

"Four." you said, giving up.

His eyes rolled and his head lolled to the side. "Darling…"

You didn't have a response, just stood shyly from the corner

"Come lay down please." He said, voice soft yet leaving no room for argument.

"Dad-"

"What? That's why you came in here, no?"

"I dunno…?"

He didn't respond but pulled the covers back and gestured for you to climb in.

Climbing into your father's bed at an ungodly hour of the morning wasn't anything new. It's occured since you were little, infact. Not being able to settle unless feeling the familiar comfort. Nowadays you got used to the idea that you were getting older, becoming a real big girl. And 'real big girls' don't need their dad to comfort them when they can't sleep at night. Infact they sleep just fine on thier own.

You trudged over to the bed and got in.

"No Rupert? Not even blankie?" He asked, refering to your baby bear and blanket you've had since you were born.

"I've given up." You said, adjusting the sheets an lying down on your back.

"Wow, that bad huh?"

You shurugged. "Yeah, I guess."

He layed down, turning to face you with his head propped up on his elbow. "What's keeping you up this time?" He said, gently, not pushing.

"A bit of everything."

he nodded slowly. "Same thoughts as all the other nights this week?"

"Mhm."

"Yet you didn't come get me beause…?"

"I don't know! I- I just didn't want to bother you. Or whatever."

He waited for your eyes to meet yours. "How many times do I have to tell you that you're not bothering me. Ever."

"Maybe a couple more."

He gave a small smile. "Get those rubish thoughts out of your head, yeah? Whatever they are, they've got no business in that beautiful brain of yours."

"Easier said than done."

But then I get to revise... and man, do I love revisions. 

i’ve been wanting to do a post about this for a while because i think this topic is so important. 

hustle culture - noun - a standard put on society that the only way to succeed is to do something with your free time that works towards your goals

ex: working on homework that’s due the next day while at lunch instead of taking the time to enjoy your break with your friends

yes, sometimes working during lunch is necessary but this shouldn’t be a daily routine. as a senior in high school, last semester, with college applications, i found myself having to “hustle” a lot because there was just so much to do. and as i look into the future, there is still so much for me to do and i thought, the only way for me to get all of that done was to “hustle” and be productive with my free time. but god that’s tiring. 

we can’t do that to ourselves. don’t call “hustling” being productive because it’s not productive for your mental health. i got so stressed because i put this idea of “i need to hustle to get this this and this done” on myself. and boy did it suck. 

i realized that my mental health is so much more important than “hustling to get everything done.” if my head isn’t in the right space, neither will be whatever i’m working on. basically, what i’m trying to say that it’s ok to take breaks for you and your mental health. we can’t push ourselves to work because over time, if we do, we’ll slowly break down. and idk about you, but i don’t want that. 

all you can do now is take things one step at a time. it’s like you're starting a race. you think the best thing to do is go full blast right at the start. but everyone knows, ever since their childhood that slow and steady wins the race.

best of luck with your ambitions, work, and studies. just take it one step at a time and you’ll find yourself out on top. don’t work yourself to the bone.