Tumgik
#fringe liam
Text
Tumblr media
sorry no matter how often i play i will never get over his jrpg ass looking design fdslfkjlksf
47 notes · View notes
transformattion · 18 days
Text
roadman
Tumblr media
Joe, a nerd, was standing under a bridge with his friend, Noah, sharing a packet of chocolate and talking.
"The new maths teacher is so annoying!" Noah says.
"Literally she's so annoying!" Joe replies.
They begin to hear laughter coming closer to them.
"My bus is here, see you tomorrow bye." Noah says.
"Oh ok bye." Joe replies.
Noah leaves and the people responsible for the laughter appear and are revealed to be Connor, a guy who used to go to Joe and Noah's school but got moved to a different school for misbehaved boys. Another boy that used to go to there school called Liam, who also got moved to the other school was with him. They were also with 2 of their friends who Joe was not familiar with. They were wearing casual clothes which consisted of an Adidas or Nike tech tracksuit, Adidas or Nike trainers, and a jacket. Connor had brunette hair in a middle part, Liam had brunette slicked back hair, one of the others had blonde hair in a flick up fringe, and the other had a buzzcut. Preston turned his head around and faced you.
"Yo Joe. You got a lighter dude." Connor says.
"No of course I don't!" Joe replies.
"That sucks, can you come to the shop with us then mate." Connor says.
"Why?" Joe asks.
"We need to catch up." He replies.
"Uhh. Sure I guess." Joe says.
"Yes get in mate." Liam says.
You go up to them and you carry on walking with them to the shop.
"What are your names?" Joe asks looking at the 2 unfamiliar boys.
"I'm Callum." The boy with the buzzcut says.
"And I'm James." The blonde haired boy says.
"So do you have a girlfriend?" Joe asks Connor.
"Yeah mate. She's so fit. You got a girl mate?" Connor asks back.
"No I don't." Joe says.
"When are you gonna get your haircut mate?" Connor asks. Joe's hair was very long and was touching his nose.
"Uh I don't know." Joe replies.
They get to the shop and they buy lots of energy drinks and when they get to the counter they buy some vapes.
"I don't think you're allowed to vape Connor." Joe says quietly.
"It'll be fine mate. Loosen up a bit." Connor says laidback.
After they buy the items they head outside. They walk to a bench in a more quiet area.
"Mate you kinda smell a bit." Connor says to Joe.
"Oh." Joe says.
"Let me fix that mate." Connor says.
He pulls out a can of lynx Africa and sprays it on Joe. Suddenly Joe start to get dizzy and feel very different.
"Bro lets go get your hair cut." James says and Connor laughs.
"Ok." Joe says like he is under a spell.
They walk to the local barbers and once they get in Connor requests that his usual barber cuts Joe's hair. Connor's usual barber, Tyler, comes up and tells Joe to sit on the chair.
"He wants a flick up fringe and also he wants his hair to be dyed brunette mate." Preston says to Tyler.
"Yeah coming right up mate." Tyler replies.
After the haircut they go to a clothes shop and Joe tries on a Nike tech tracksuit.
"Mate, you should buy it!" Liam says.
"Ok." Joe says in the same trance like tone.
"Get in mate." Connor says.
Joe and Connor go to Connor's house.
"So I feel like you're gay." Connor says.
"Yeah I am." Joe says.
"But girls are so leng, man and like their tits and ass. Like have you seen Kylie." Connor says.
"True Kylie is mad leng you get me." Joe says.
"Yeah mate, I get you innit. The lynx is finally about to solidify your transformation." Connor says.
"I mean you're talking like a roadman now and it feel good innit." Connor says.
"Yeah mate, it does. And Kylie's single right mate?" Joe asks.
"Yeah she is. And I feel like you suit a Josh more than a Joe"
"Yeah mate innit." Joe or Josh now says.
Joe went from being a nice, innocent, submissive boy with blonde hair, to becoming a total roadman. He was definitely not innocent anymore, dominant, and had brunette hair and styled more "British". He was now Josh not Joe.
"Mate, I feel proper fit innit!" Josh says in his new roadman accent.
"Mate, you gonna get with Cassie, right?" Connor asks.
"Yeah mate she's fucking leng af." Josh replies.
*next day*
Noah was under the bridge, waiting for Joe like always. He hears laughter.
"Nah bro, Kylies mad leng, like she wants to smash later, mate!" Josh says excited.
"Yo Noah, you got a vape mate?" Josh asks.
Tumblr media
141 notes · View notes
hlupdate · 9 months
Text
W​​hat’s the secret to a great portrait? At 86 years old, David Hockney has a few ideas. A lifetime of looking has taught him to always start with the face. “I begin with the head first,” he says, matter-of-factly, from his home in France. “From there, I place everything else.”
That was his approach when, late last May, Harry Styles traveled to his light-filled studio in Normandy and stationed himself on a cane chair, ready to become the esteemed artist’s latest subject. Over two days, Hockney worked to capture the exact hues of red and yellow in Styles’s striped cardigan, the indigo of his jeans, the string of pearls at his neck—not to mention the unmistakable tousled fringe of one of the world’s biggest pop stars. For the artist, though, the goal was merely to capture the essence of the person in front of him. “I wasn’t really aware of his celebrity then,” Hockney says, with a shrug. “He was just another person who came to the studio.”
The pair struck up an instant rapport that was likely helped by Styles being a full-on fanboy. For his Vogue cover shoot in 2020, Styles wore a pair of hand-painted Bode cords that featured a talismanic illustration of Hockney by artist Aayushia Khowala. It’s also hard to imagine the wide-eyed wonder of a flamboyant Brit discovering the sunny thrills and spills of California—a theme, and sound, that has permeated the former One Direction singer’s solo albums—without Hockney as a precedent. “David Hockney has been reinventing the way we look at the world for decades,” says Styles. “It was a complete privilege to be painted by him.”
The unveiling of the portrait kicks off the second iteration of the National Portrait Gallery’s Hockney exhibition “Drawing From Life,” which first opened in February 2020, only to close weeks later due to the pandemic. With the addition of a new room of pictures charting Hockney’s creative impulses throughout lockdown, the show returns on November 2—a few months after a refurbishment of the entire museum—with Styles’s portrait as its crown jewel. “The whole world shut down, and the exhibition was still sitting there, in the dark,” recalls Sarah Howgate, the gallery’s senior curator of contemporary collections, who oversaw the exhibition in both phases. “So it’s nice to know it will have another life.”
The Styles painting may bring star wattage, but the unassuming genius of Hockney’s portraiture is still the main exhibition draw. What makes his images tick, you quickly learn, is their honesty: whether in the tension bubbling beneath the surface of his famed double portrait of Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell, painted between 1970 and ’71, or the seated figures that populated his 2016 Royal Academy of Arts exhibition, which included the likes of his own sister, Margaret, and the late comedian Barry Humphries. Hockney’s eye for the human figure may be playful, often kaleidoscopic, sometimes fantastical—but it’s always, most importantly, frank.
Styles’s portrait will hang alongside those of writer Gregory Evans, Hockney’s printer Maurice Payne, the mayor of his local town Dozulé, his gardener, and even his chiropodist, or in Hockney’s words, “the dandy who cuts my toenails.”
One of his more recent subjects was the eminent music producer Clive Davis, who first suggested inviting Styles to swing by. “Clive told me about Harry’s new album, and JP [Hockney’s studio assistant] sent Harry a note and asked him if he’d like to come to my studio and sit for his portrait,” Hockney remembers. “He replied straight away and said, yes, he’d love to.” From there, Hockney’s process of painting Styles was instinctive. “Everybody just came to sit,” he says, breezily, before admitting: “Now I know Harry’s a celebrity, though: I’ve seen all his music videos.”
“He’s not a traditional portrait painter,” says Howgate. Hockney’s interest is not in what people do, but rather in who they are. “He’s not interested in fame. He’s interested in depicting people and their relationships.” It’s why his eye is primarily trained on his inner circle these days—but it also pays testament to his enduring curiosity that he’s still willing to open that up to a newcomer every so often. Styles seems to know how lucky he is, adding, with a tinge of disbelief: “I’m in awe of the man with enough one-liners for a lifetime.” As to what those one-liners might be? Styles and Hockney’s mutual silence on that question suggests that what happens in the studio, stays in the studio.
“David Hockney: Drawing From Life” will be at the National Portrait Gallery from November 2 to January 21, 2024.
154 notes · View notes
andjsjfks · 11 months
Text
Butterfly Clips and Strawberry Hair Ties
David/Angel
Sometimes being alpha of the pack means sitting amongst the pack pups and letting them do horrendous things to your hair. David didn't mind.
AO3
“You having fun?” David glances upwards, his vision mostly distorted by the colourful array of butterfly clips and beads decorating his fringe, courtesy of the trio of pups surrounding him. The pups pay no mind to the newcomer, far too focused on the task at hand. Behind David, sits Paige and Eva, each braiding small sections of hair at the back of his head. Brightly coloured hair ties, decorated with different plastic fruits sitting comfortably on their wrists. In front is Liam, Paige’s younger brother and the artist behind the spectacle that is David’s fringe. 
He’s been meaning to get a haircut for weeks now. Every morning spent in the bathroom mirror complaining that the back is looking far too much like a mullet for his liking. His mate, however, disagrees. 
Without it how would they ever have walked in on such a lovely sight?
“Not a word, angel” David murmurs, being careful to not disturb Liam from his handiwork. There’s a fondness in his voice that’s been more apparent as of late, a lightness to him that was hard found a year ago. 
It wasn’t just his voice that appeared softer. Over the past couple of months, his shoulders had fallen from their spot up against his ears. The proverbial tie around his neck finally loosened up. Everyone could see it. More often than not he could be found engaging in pack jokes, now laughing along with Asher’s outlandish comments rather than instantly shooting them down. 
The pups felt it too, the gradual shift in their alphas attitude. It’s not as if he was ever rude to them not at all. The pups knew in their hearts that no matter what, they could go to David for protection or advice. However, his standoff persona did make it difficult for the pups to play around with him the same way they did Milo or Asher. Paired with his intimidating height and gruff voice, he was certainly a difficult person to face. 
But that had changed too, evident by the scene playing out in front of Angel. David cross-legged on the games room floor amidst a certainly creative hair makeover. 
“Room for another hairdresser?” Ignoring their mate, Angel directs their question to Liam as he clips another small pink butterfly into the alpha's fringe. The frantic nodding from the boy is answer enough, emphasised by his shuffle to the side of David to create room for the alpha mate. 
“Don’t you dare” The warning itself is fruitless, with his mate already having moved from their spot against the doorframe to kneel next to Liam, the youngest of the Shaw Pack pups.
“Which colour should I use?” Angel asks, rummaging through the little plastic box of clips owned by Paige. Wordlessly, Liam hunches over the box, picking out a glittery blue clip and handing it over to them. Liam has always been more on the shy side of things, opting to mostly hide behind his sister and her outgoing personality. 
“Wonderful pick bud” They smile. Moving their hands over to an unclipped section of David’s hair, they ran their fingers through it for a brief moment before pushing the clip near the top of the stands, pinning back some of the hair clouding his vision. 
David turns to Liam, hand resting on the boy’s own head as he ruffles his hair slightly. “What do you think kiddo, they do a good enough job of it?” Liam puts his full attention on the clip in question, moving David’s head about as he pleases to study the placement. With a smile and a nod, the boy turns back to the box of clips, searching for his next decoration. 
A huff can be heard from behind David, as the two girls move his head to once again face forward, continuing on with their braids. His eyes meet his mates, where they wait with a smile and a specific look in their eyes. 
It’s a gleam that he’d slowly started becoming more accustomed to. One that only ever appeared when he was found interacting with the youngest of the pack. David knows what that look means, he’s experienced it himself, on those few occasions when Angel’s niece and nephew have stayed the night at their place. When he walked into their living room to find the three of them cuddled up, chatting at a pace few can keep up with about the Disney movie playing on the tv. 
The first time he felt it, it scared him. David’s always wanted a family, wanted so desperately to give the love he received as a kid to his own. After the accident, his priorities changed, they had to. He was the alpha now. A pack of wolves looked to him, for support, guidance and safety. His duty to his pack overpowered any dream that he might have wanted for himself. After all, he’d already resigned himself to not finding a mate, never mind having children. So he locked away the dream. Burying it deep beneath his newfound responsibilities as the leader of this pack. 
Angel came into his life with a shovel and determination. 
Within months of being together, they unearthed every thought he’d ever had about being a dad. That’s what terrified him. David had become so resigned to the idea of never having kids, to instead put all the care and protection he would’ve shown a child towards the pack, that when the thoughts of starting a family with his mate appeared he was overwhelmed by them. How could he possibly divide his love between being a father and an alpha?    
Gabe made it look so easy. 
David thought it impossible.
Until one night. The door to their apartment not long closed on Angel’s sister after picking up her kids from a ‘weekend with the Shaws’. David and his mate worked in silence, refolding blankets, cleaning up plates, and picking up the array of legos scattered across their living room floor. Silence broken only by the remaining few minutes of The Lion King 2 coming from the tv. As Angel collected the last couple of bricks that had rolled slightly beneath the couch, they cleared their throat. Throwing the plastic into a nearby tub, before resting on their knees and turning towards David in the kitchen. 
“Do you want kids?” 
Time stopped for just a second. Hands stilled around a plate, wet and in danger of slipping from his hold, especially considering the shock the question sent through him. This is it, he thought. The moment to bare all to them. Share every secret and dream about one day becoming a father to his own, how he longs for it all, every aspect. Early morning cartoons, scrapped knees, stabilizers and bedtime stories. How for years of his life he’d been convinced he’d never be able to have any of these things. 
He has so much that he wanted to say. 
Instead, he just says, “Yes”.
Angel knows. They can see in his knuckles, how they turned white as he gripped the plate, before loosening his hold and letting the blood flow freely. They see it in the widening of his eyes as he stares out the kitchen window, before relaxing his gaze and turning towards them, a glimpse of something so new and unfamiliar swimming within them. A gaze they’d see again, the next time their niece and nephew visit, and fully understand the meaning of it. They see him. They know him. 
“Me too” 
That’s all David’s mind needed for everything to fall into place. Confirmation from his mate that they too, wanted a family. He’d already achieved something he once thought impossible by finding them, an unempowered human who loved him, wolf and all. How they not only cared for him but held a fierce love and devotion towards his pack too, their pack. It no longer felt like an outlandish idea to have children of their own, in fact, it felt right. 
Why couldn’t he be both an alpha and a dad?  
He often wonders if this is how his dad felt, after meeting his mom and creating a pack together. If the idea of family changed in his brain once he found the one person he wanted to share it all with. 
The two of them never really spoke about it directly again, instead opting to make little comments that hinted towards their future family together. Angel walking past the baby section of a store and holding up little boots, cooing over how cute they would look on their kid. David finding a mini plastic gardening set and immediately putting it in the cart to store in the attic for whenever they might need it. It was nice, knowing that the two of them were on the same page. In no immediate rush to extend their family, but acknowledging that it would happen at some point in their shared future.
A brush to the side of his face brings him back from deep within his head. Fingertips gently tracing from under his ear to the tip of his chin and back again. 
“You know, if you think any harder you’re gonna hurt yourself” They laugh. 
Any response from David is cut off by the excited sounds of the girls behind him. Eva clambered up onto her feet to run to his front, jumping slightly on the balls of her feet. 
“We’re done! Go look go look” Small hands grab onto one of his own, attempting to pull him up off the floor. 
“Ok ok let’s see the masterpiece” David waits for Liam to slide off of the knee he’d ended up on, then gets to his feet and walks over to the mirror hanging on the back of the door. 
His hair, for lack of a better word, was a mess. Several clips bunched his hair up in ways that he knows will leave a knot for him to brush out. Some of the clips even sliding from their original places and falling down certain strands. The two braids were uneven and lopsided with chunks of hair falling out the sides and the hair ties too loose to be holding them together for much longer. God knows what reaction this will illicit out of Asher and Tank, the two most known for giving him a hard time about almost anything. Not to mention Sam, who quickly found himself comfortable enough within the pack to start teasing anyone, given the chance. But right now, behind him stood three kids, with gleaming smiles on their faces awaiting their alpha’s highly regarded opinion. And so he smiles. 
“I love it, you guys did a great job” 
The praise sets the two girls off on a whirlwind, explaining their reasoning behind the hair ties they chose and why. Liam stands quietly at their side, a small smile on his face as he admires the clip still held in his hands. 
David tries to focus on what they’re saying he really does, but his mate catches his eye once again. Eyes soft with a smile even softer. 
Handsome they mouth, a laugh threatening to escape their lips, but holding it back out of respect for the pups’ feelings. He can’t help the roll of his eyes.  
One day, this will be their everyday. 
One day, they won’t have to wait for pack meetings or solstices. Or weekends spent babysitting.
David couldn’t be more excited.
189 notes · View notes
nene0921 · 18 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liam - ikemen Prince
I Totelly Forgotten to post my progress! Im not really done because the hair (fringe?) need some tidying up, and Maybe bettet glasses?
43 notes · View notes
mr-styles · 9 months
Text
When Harry Styles Met David Hockney: An Exclusive First Look At A Special New Portrait
Tumblr media
A legendary painter and a pop lodestar? Sparks were inevitable. David Hockney and Harry Styles share a very special sitting with Liam Hess
W​​hat’s the secret to a great portrait? At 86 years old, David Hockney has a few ideas. A lifetime of looking has taught him to always start with the face. “I begin with the head first,” he says, matter-of-factly, from his home in France. “From there, I place everything else.”
That was his approach when, late last May, Harry Styles travelled to his light-filled studio in Normandy and stationed himself on a cane chair, ready to become the esteemed artist’s latest subject. Over two days, Hockney worked to capture the exact hues of red and yellow in Styles’s striped cardigan, the indigo of his jeans, the string of pearls at his neck – not to mention the unmistakable tousled fringe of one of the world’s biggest pop stars. For the artist, though, the goal was merely to capture the essence of the person in front of him. “I wasn’t really aware of his celebrity then,” Hockney says, with a shrug. “He was just another person who came to the studio.”
The pair struck up an instant rapport that was likely helped by Styles being a full-on fanboy. For his US Vogue cover shoot in 2020, Styles wore a pair of hand-painted Bode cords that featured a talismanic illustration of Hockney by artist Aayushia Khowala. It’s also hard to imagine the wide-eyed wonder of a flamboyant Brit discovering the sunny thrills and spills of California – a theme, and sound, that has permeated the former One Direction singer’s solo albums – without Hockney as a precedent. “David Hockney has been reinventing the way we look at the world for decades,” says Styles. “It was a complete privilege to be painted by him.”
The unveiling of the portrait kicks off the second iteration of the National Portrait Gallery’s Hockney exhibition Drawing From Life, which first opened in February 2020, only to close weeks later due to the pandemic. With the addition of a new room of pictures charting Hockney’s creative impulses throughout lockdown, the show returns on 2 November – a few months after a refurbishment of the entire museum – with Styles’s portrait as its crown jewel. “The whole world shut down, and the exhibition was still sitting there, in the dark,” recalls Sarah Howgate, the gallery’s senior curator of contemporary collections, who oversaw the exhibition in both phases. “So it’s nice to know it will have another life.”
The Styles painting may bring star wattage, but the unassuming genius of Hockney’s portraiture is still the main exhibition draw. What makes his images tick, you quickly learn, is their honesty: whether in the tension bubbling beneath the surface of his famed double portrait of Ossie Clark and Celia Birtwell, painted between 1970 and ’71, or the seated figures that populated his 2016 Royal Academy of Arts exhibition, which included the likes of his own sister, Margaret, and the late comedian Barry Humphries. Hockney’s eye for the human figure may be playful, often kaleidoscopic, sometimes fantastical – but it’s always, most importantly, frank.
Styles’s portrait will hang alongside those of writer Gregory Evans, Hockney’s printer Maurice Payne, the mayor of his local town Dozulé, his gardener and even his chiropodist, or in Hockney’s words, “the dandy who cuts my toenails” .
One of his more recent subjects was the eminent music producer Clive Davis, who first suggested inviting Styles to swing by. “Clive told me about Harry’s new album, and JP [Hockney’s studio assistant] sent Harry a note and asked him if he’d like to come to my studio and sit for his portrait,” Hockney remembers. “He replied straight away and said, yes, he’d love to.” From there, Hockney’s process of painting Styles was instinctive. “Everybody just came to sit,” he says, breezily, before admitting: “Now I know Harry’s a celebrity, though: I’ve seen all his music videos.”
“He’s not a traditional portrait painter,” says Howgate. Hockney’s interest is not in what people do, but rather in who they are. “He’s not interested in fame. He’s interested in depicting people and their relationships.” It’s why his eye is primarily trained on his inner circle these days – but it also pays testament to his enduring curiosity that he’s still willing to open that up to a newcomer every so often. Styles seems to know how lucky he is, adding, with a tinge of disbelief: “I’m in awe of the man with enough one-liners for a lifetime.” As to what those one-liners might be? Styles and Hockney’s mutual silence on that question suggests that what happens in the studio, stays in the studio.
via vogue.co.uk
131 notes · View notes
twopoppies · 1 year
Note
saw this and literally gasped because just based on the trailer they're right. the painting over the bullshit sabotage he's been through is blatant. I mean they obv were never going to say it but still
Tumblr media
This “underdog/I wasn’t sure I had a place in the band, let alone on my own” idea is one they’ve been running with for years. I remember it in 2017 in that big article in The Guardian
I’ve often wondered why the fringe members of boy bands do this to themselves. Why they gather themselves to “go again”. As Tomlinson acknowledges, in One Direction he was seen by some as “forgettable, to a certain degree”. “The others have always been… Like Niall, for example. He’s the most lovely guy in the world. Happy-go-lucky Irish, no sense of arrogance. And he’s fearless. There are times I’ve thought: ‘I’d have a bit of that.’ Zayn, back in the day. He could relate to me on a nerves level. In the first year we were both the least confident. But Zayn has a fantastic voice and for him it was always about owning that. Liam always had a good stage presence, same as Harry, they’ve both got that ownership. Harry comes across very cool. Liam’s all about getting the crowd going, doing a bit of dancing…”
And then there’s you.
“And then there’s me.”
I didn’t see it as a horrendous strategy back then, but hindsight is 20/20 and things look very different when they’re trying to tell the same story almost 6 years later.
148 notes · View notes
characterlimit · 9 months
Note
Hi Liam,
My partner and I are planning a trip to Scotland for the end of August/beginning of September, and we are working on figuring out our itinerary. We will for sure be in Edinburgh for some of the time, but also planning to go all around Scotland (plus probably dipping down to Newcastle). Any recommendations for things we should definitely see or do?
-Annoying Canadian Tourist
The fun/helpful answer: Edinburgh Fringe festival will be in full swing when you get here in August, so there will be no shortage of things to do/see here! In contrast there are some fuckin stunning parts of the country outside of cities that aren't too hard to get to, easier still if you're renting a car. The roads up through the Highlands towards Inverness and beyond are my favourite places for a road trip!
The buzzkill/soapbox answer: pls pls pls book hotels/bed & breakfasts over Airbnbs where you can, especially in Edinburgh. The housing market here is being decimated by the short term let industry, bc landlords realised they could make way more in a week rinsing tourists than in a month from tenants. Not to mention the impact on local communities - the amount of keyboxes that have popped up outside flat doors in my neighbourhood alone is depressing as hell.
62 notes · View notes
around1302 · 1 year
Text
XX. THE FINAL SHOW
SPARE PARTS: a series (20/20)
MSG, NEW YORK
(W) strong language
epilogue out 9pm BST ;)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THIRD PERSON’S POV
ONE WEEK EARLIER
“You know what’s funny about this?”
“Incredible sex is funny?”
Charlie rolls her eyes, tilting her head to meet Harry’s gaze. Sort of. Within their position, it proves to be a little difficult. Their fingers tangle and untangle in an unspoken game, Charlie’s cheek presses into Harry’s chest and they just lay there – basking in uninterrupted peace. It’s so strangley normal at this point.
“If I had never kissed Zayn at Louis’ party, we wouldn’t have happened. You wouldn’t have found me crying in the toilet and I wouldn’t have let you edge me.”
Harry’s chest winced at the mention of her kissing Zayn, her kissing anyone that isn’t him, but he remains cool. Chuckling, even, at the bitter tone she dips into at the recollection of what he did to her that night.
“As much as I’d love to give you some line about how we were destined, I have to agree with you, baby.”
“You can use other nicknames, you know.”
Charlie twists completely onto her stomach now, letting her chin fall on her arms. Harry plays with her hair, fingers grazing her back, smiling at the goosebumps that develop beneath his touch.
“I can?” Harry lilts.
“Mm. You haven’t used princess in a while.”
“You hated princess.”
Charlie shrugs. “Try it now. Unless you still think I’m a stuck-up brat.”
“Hey,” Harry tilts his head, thumbing at her bottom lip, “I never said that.”
“You implied it.” Charlie grins, pushing her face up with her palm as her elbow digs into his chest. Harry looks up at her now, still tracing her morning-kissed features.
“Fine,” Harry clears his throat, “princess.”
“Like slipping on an old sweater.” Charlie grins, Harry scoffs.
“You don’t call me anything,” Harry palms at her nape, scratching at the hair there. Charlie’s eyes nearly roll into the back of her head while she resists the urge to beg him for a full body massage.
“You don’t seem like the pet name type.”
“I’m actually a huge fan of honey-bunch if you’d ever bothered asking me.”
Charlie snorts. Harry wants to write a song about it.
“Okay, honey-bunch,” Charlie leans forward, nudging his nose with hers, “whatever you want.”
PRESENT DAY
When the five of them stepped onto that stage those years ago as nothing but spare parts, they never could have imagined they would ever even play further than that Battle of the Bands arena – let alone Madison Square Garden.
Niall saw himself playing guitar in his bedroom around his usual 9-5. Liam envisioned packing away the drumsticks and moving to university and living the life his parents had always planned for him. Charlie saw singing in the shower and Louis saw bass behind closed doors and Harry saw songwriting in rare minutes.
This? This was unfathomable.
Even more so as Charlie stands before them all, hands as firm on her hips as her mind was set on the simple fact that she is,
“Not doing it.”
“What the fuck do you mean you’re not doing it?” Louis spits, furrowing his brows behind his overgrown fringe, calloused fingers pausing their play with his worn pick.
Typically, the guys would put this up to pre-show nerves. It’s not unusual for Charlie to question every aspect of her career moments before it’s time to mic up, but calling a band meeting only minutes before – the sound of screams echoing the dressing room Amelia and Zayn were forced to vacate – that’s call for suspicion.
“The show?” Niall questions, scratching the back of his neck.
“Charlie, if you’re nervous–” Liam starts.
“I’m not nervous,” Charlie finishes, “I’m just not doing it.”
She avoided Harry’s eye the whole way over here, scared she’d crumble if she’d meet it. It took kicking him out of the room and a turmoil over a trillion different possibilities to come to this conclusion, it took risking being late to solidify that this is the right thing – the only thing – to do.
She wasn’t going to throw all that away because of some stupid eyes.
And yet, as she repeats her bold statement, Harry’s face seems to be the only one she can find. He’s standing away from the guys, practically cornered, anxiously playing with his bottom lip as his eyes start to well with something. Fear? Sadness? Frustration? It’s untangeable, but Charlie fixates on it and finds it only fuels her resentment.
“I still don’t understand what the fuck you’re talking about.” Louis scoffs, shoving his pick in his pocket to fold his arms.
Charlie’s eyes zero in on Harry. She has no idea what he’s thinking, and vice versa, all they know is this is the most normal they’ve been in months. Charlie mad at Harry. If anything, her belittling stare should be a home comfort.
“Do you want to tell them or should I?”
Harry drops his hand, scowling. Anger starts to bubble in the spaces guilt boiled only a few seconds ago. The boys all look at Harry, and Niall’s quick to roll his eyes.
“Oh, Jesus, what did you do this time?”
“Knew it was only a matter of time before you fucked it up.” Liam joins in.
“Leave it out,” Harry snaps, despite knowing he has no real reason to.
“Well?” Charlie sniffs, straightening her back.
“Guys!” Paula’s voice booms from outside the locked door, “two minutes, I won’t tell you again!”
“Okay!” Charlie retorts.
Paula mumbles something about them skating on thin ice, but leaves. At the end of the day, the show can’t start without them – their own rules apply right now.
“Harry?” Louis asks again, his tone beyond annoyed.
“Charlie, you’re a real prick.” Harry sighs. Charlie shrugs. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this, I had a plan.”
Charlie guffaws at that. “Tough shit, they have a right to know–”
“Oh my God, know what?”
“He’s leaving.”
Silence thrums throughout the dressing room, making the space suddenly huge.
“You what?” Niall’s the first to break it, sounding amused. Unconvinced.
“You heard me.” If looks could kill, Harry’d be a goner. “Harry decided to sign a solo contract last year with Columbia,” her voice begins to wobble, but she can’t mess this up, “to leave after this tour.”
“Yeah, right.” Liam scoffs.
“Bullshit.” Louis laughs a little too loudly.
“Harry?” Charlie prompts.
Harry collapses onto the arm of the sofa, mumbling. “It’s true.”
“Speak up.” Charlie spits. Harry glares at her.
“It’s true,” he repeats, harsher. “Look, I was going to tell you after we were finished–”
“You what?” Niall scoffs, repeating himself.
“I can explain at a better time, but right now we need to get on stage and perform to fucking thousands of people.”
“No way,” Liam jibes, “I don’t believe you.”
“What would fucking possess you?” Louis bites.
Harry glares at Charlie, again. He knows full well he’s in the wrong here, but fuck her for dropping this bomb moments before what was supposed to be the best show of the whole God damn tour. There’s no way he has the time or space to explain now–
“Right, enough is enough!” Paula’s voice travels around the four walls, the persistent sound of her fist thrumming through their chests, “out, now!”
Harry quickly scrambles to rectify some of it – if any. If that’s even remotely possible at this point. Everyone’s looking at him like he just killed a cat, but his main priority is Charlie and her initial statement.
“We have to do this together, Charlie.”
“That’s ironic.” She snorts – the sound less sweet, now.
“As much as I could kick his head in right now,” Liam seethes, “he’s right. We’re not performing without you.”
“Tough shit. I’m not giving them a lie.”
“Ten seconds before I kick this door in!”
“Okay!” They all shout in unison this time.
“Charlie,” Harry steps forward, reaching out for her shoulders but she steps back, out of his touch. He tries not to wince at that. “Please.” Harry rarely pleads, but it seems that when it comes to this girl he’d get on his knees and beg with his life if she so wished.
Charlie feels those same, annoying tendons being yanked at in her chest. Harry’s eyes and his tremble and his mouth all seem so bitterly sincere, it kills her. So she glances at the band behind him, all clearly as angry as her, and searches their faces for some kind of answer.
Nothing. Nothing helpful, at least.
“Just one more show.” Harry pulls her back. “One more, then you can hate me forever.”
“That sounds like a tempting offer.” Charlie retorts quickly.
How much quipping at Harry feels like slipping on an old jumper. Sure, maybe complete refusal was a bit hasty. Perhaps even a little irresponsible – but it felt like good payback for Harry’s carelessness. But in looking at her bandmates’ faces, she realises maybe it was just selfish anger.
“Fine,” she ignores Harry’s deep sigh of relief, “but fuck you.”
Harry’s heard those words from Charlie’s lips a million times over the last six years, but God if that time didn’t sting. Salted by the guys’ glares and shoulder barges as they follow Charlie out the dressing room, hearing earfuls from Paula as they ascend to the stage.
Tumblr media
As much as they tried, that show was clearly a blip. Fans were already buzzing on Twitter about how something feels up; Charlie’s distance, Harry’s wobbles, Niall’s fumbles. Not a part of them let the excitement of MSG seap into the cracks formed by that contract, and instead of an adrenaline filled debrief at their tour-wrap party the five of them sat in Louis’ hotel room.
Arguing.
“We were never going to do this forever.”
“We only put out two fucking albums,” Liam’s usual level-headedness seems to be long gone, “and you already want to call it quits.”
“I’m not quitting, I’m moving on,” Harry knows he has no right to be frustrated, but trying to explain where he’s coming from fifty times gets exhausting. “I don’t feel like this is the place I want to be at anymore. We were sixteen when we started and I used to be okay with every decision being made for me, but I can’t do it now.”
“You have freedom–”
“No, I don’t,” Harry snaps, interrupting Louis, “half the songs I wrote for this album got either cut or changed. Every fucking adult life experience I’ve ever had has been because other people set that up for me, or because it was a band decision. I can’t live like that anymore.”
“Wow,” Niall laughs bitterly, “didn’t realise we were such a chore.”
Harry sighs, refusing to explain himself for a fifty-first time.
“I understand I should have said something earlier, but that’s the only thing I can apologise for.”
“You’re not gonna say sorry for fucking us all over?” Niall sniffles.
“God, I have not fucked–”
“You’re not listening,” Charlie finally cuts through her silence. Everyone’s heads snap in her direction after nearly forgetting she’s been sat here, just absorbing the conversation. “You didn’t listen to me, and you’re not listening to them. We can’t do this without you.”
“Of course you can,” Harry’s voice leaves him hoarsly. “You’re all more than capable.”
“Do you really think that low of us?” Liam quips.
“Yeah,” Louis joins in, “we wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
Harry swallows, a thick tension fogging up the suite.
“Then I don’t know what to say.”
“Jesus,” Niall murmurs, rubbing his face before groaning, “you’re such an idiot, H.”
Harry presses his tongue into his cheek; he can’t dispute that one.
“So is this it?” Louis murmurs.
They all look at each other, waiting for someone to have an answer, a solution, but no one does. They can’t do it without Harry, and Harry isn’t doing it.
“I’m not ready for this to end.” Louis continues.
“It doesn’t have to.” Harry tries to resolve the issue, again. Obviously, it doesn’t work.
“We’ve fuckin’ established at this point we’re not doing this without you,” Niall’s tone starts to soften. “Maybe this is a good idea.”
“What?” Liam splutters.
“Look, Harry’s leaving, I’m getting married. We’ve just finished tour, if there’s any time to split…”
“Oh yeah, that’s all well and good for you guys. But what the fuck do we do, huh?”
“Whatever we want...” Liam mumbles to himself.
“What?” Louis stands, “You can’t seriously be okay with this?”
“Maybe they’re right,” Liam shrugs, still sounding defeated, “what if we are out-growing this thing?”
“This thing?”
“I mentally checked out the moment I found out.” Charlie cuts in, coldly. “I’m not saying I’m happy about it, I’m fucking terrified, but…” keeping her eyes on Harry, Charlie speaks to the room when she asks, “can we have a minute?”
The guys give each other looks, but obey, leaving Harry and Charlie. Harry can’t even look at Charlie. He doesn’t know what he feels, what he can even say. He’s sorry, and he’s angry, and he’s so God damn in love with her that he’s afraid to speak.
“I need a fuckin’ drink,” Louis grumbles before the door slams.
A second of silence before Charlie’s feet padding on the floor matches the thrumming of Harry’s heart, and then she’s suddenly before him, standing between his legs as he stays perched on the edge of the bed.
Hesitant, she reaches out, forcing him to look up at her. A sharp inhale takes her off guard at the sight of him – he looks so wrecked, so on the verge of tears, she nearly decides to forget the whole thing and crumble into forgiveness. Into his arms.
“Charlie,” he mutters, “I need you to be okay with me.”
She swallows the forming lump in her throat, but it’s not working against the pads of his fingers against her hips, kneading apologetic circles into her skin.
“Please,” he asks again. Begs.
Charlie carresses his cheeks, heart breaking at the way he absentmindely falls into her warmth. His eyes even flutter closed for a second as he wonders if this is the last time she’ll ever let him lean into her like this.
“I don’t expect forgiveness I just…” he kisses her palm, his lips moving desperately up her arm as his voice cracks, “I can’t lose you, you know that, right?”
Despite Charle’s heart melting into a trillion painful specs, she remains firm.
“Harry, you lied.” She whispers.
He stands, holding her face as he continues his apology path to her neck, her jaw, her cheek, her lips. Mutual tears salt the kiss as she caves in for a second; her hands fist at his shirt as her muscles fall into memory and all she can think about is his lips on hers. Harry sighs into her mouth, fingers clawing at her nape as he begs with his tongue.
“No,” Charlie suddenly pulls back, ugly logic clouding her vision, “no, Harry I can’t.”
Their foreheads press together, jagged breaths mixing to become one as he keeps her close, as close as he possibly can for as long as he possibly can. He’s almost scared to ask the question,
“So what are we supposed to do now?”
Charlie looks up at him with those eyes, a look of disappointment- no, is it anger? Sadness. Harry really can’t tell. All he knows is she’s never looked at him like that before, and he never wants her to look at him like that again.
What are they supposed to do now?
“I know space is the last thing I’ll ever want from you.” Harry answers for them.
When Charlie doesn’t respond, Harry tries to clear his throat; rid himself of that painful lump as he prepares himself to finish his sentence.
It doesn’t work. It’s painful. So, so painful.
“Space is probably what you want, right?”
If you had asked Charlie twenty four hours ago what she wanted from Harry, space wouldn’t have even made it on the list. But now, after everything, after what should have been the best show of the whole tour but turned out to be the worse – yeah. Space sounds nice.
So she nods, shortly yet enough for Harry to register it against his skin.
“Okay.” He whispers, his voice cracking.
Leaving her isn’t close to what Harry wants to do, but he forces himself to step away from her. He knows looking at her will only make things worst, so keeping his head down he starts for the door.
But Charlie’s palm around his wrist stops his feet and his heart.
“Harry,” his name leaves her rushed, pained.
She steps in front of him. “I love you.”
He feels his whole world collapse beneath him.
“I just need a minute, okay?”
Harry’s never felt relief like that in his entire life.
“Okay.”
After six years, eight months, and several days, Harry can do a minute.
@lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily @sirtommyholland @tpwksm @b-reads-things @tiaamberxx @daphnesutton @mleestiles
106 notes · View notes
Text
i think liam hamsworth is a good fit n also looks p damn similar to cavill but i also believe they shouldve instead cast a fringe polish actor w 4 credits max on imdb, none of them available on any streaming services and you can forget about english subtitles. btw
150 notes · View notes
imaginationiskeyy · 1 year
Text
I thought some of you may enjoy my list of Father/sons and bromances whether it be by blood or not so I thought I’d share some of my favs! :D (Please feel free to add to it)
All shows are in alphabetical order.
🎥 = Movie 📚 = Book 📺 = TV series
Father and son
Shawn Davis and Vic Davis (The 2nd 🎥)
Christopher Diaz and Eddie Diaz (911 📺)
Harry Grant and Michael Grant (911 📺)
Judd Ryder and Stuart Ryder (911 Lone Star 📺)
TK Strand and Owen Strand (911 Lone Star 📺)
Alex Standall and Bill Standall (13 Reasons Why 📺)
Jack McClane and John McClane (A Good Day to Die Hard 🎥)
Lee Adama and Bill Adama (Battlestar Galactica 📺)
Jamie, Danny and Frank Reagan (Blue Bloods 📺)
Chris Halliwell and Leo Wyatt (Charmed 📺)
Josh, Brody & Bruce Murakami (Crossroads a Story to Forgiveness 🎥)
Scott Norris and Mike Norris (Crush 🎥)
Kyle Harmon and Horatio Caine (CSI Miami 📺)
Pacey Witter and John Witter (Dawson’s Creek 📺)
Jason Dixon and Mike Dixon (Disconnect 🎥)
Bradley Branning and Max Branning (Eastenders 📺)
Ben Mitchell and Phil Mitchell (Eastenders 📺)
Ephram Brown and Andrew Brown (Everwood 📺)
Bode Donovan and Vince Leone (Fire Country 📺)
Hal, Ben, Matt and Tom Mason (Falling Skies 📺)
Peter Bishop and Walter Bishop (Fringe 📺)
Indiana Jones and Henry Jones, Sr. (Indiana Jones 🎥)
Tom Garvey and Kevin Garvey (The Leftovers 📺)
Sam Monroe and George Monroe (Life as a House 🎥)
Nathaniel Bazile and Jack Bazile (Life Unexpected 📺)
Ryan Mitchell and Captain Mitchell (Power Rangers Lightspeed Rescue📺)
Shawn Spencer and Henry Spencer (Psych 📺)
Luke Morrow and Jacob Morrow Sr. (Purple Hearts 🎥)
Max Kenton and Charlie Kenton (Real Steel 🎥)
Jughead Jones and FP Jones (Riverdale 📺)
Duval Pritchard and Jimmy Pritchard (Second Chance 📺)
Clark Kent and Jonathan Kent (Smallville 📺)
Finn Scott and Damien Scott (Strike Back 📺)
Jonathan, Jordon and Clark Kent (Superman and Lois 📺)
Dean, Sam and John Winchester (Supernatural 📺)
Stiles Stilinski and Noah Stilinski (Teen Wolf 📺)
Josh Shannon and Jim Shannon (Terra Nova 📺)
Kevin, Randall and Jack Pearson (This is Us 📺)
Stephen Jameson and Roger Price (The Tomorrow People 📺)
Cordell, Liam and Bonham Walker (Walker 📺)
August Walker and Cordell Walker (Walker 📺)
Carl Grimes and Rick Grimes (The Walking Dead 📺)
---------------------------------------
Like father and son
Evan Buckley and Bobby Nash (911 📺)
Jake Peralta and Captain (Ray) Holt (Brooklyn Nine-Nine 📺)
Spencer Reid and Aaron Hotchner (Criminal Minds 📺)
Nick Stokes and Gil Grissom (CSI 📺)
Sky and Saul Silva (Fate: The Winx Saga 📺)
Bode Donovan and Manny Perez (Fire Country 📺)
Matt Saracen and Coach Taylor (Friday Night Lights 📺)
Jess Mariano and Luke Danes (Gilmore Girls 📺)
Harry Potter and Sirius Black (Harry Potter 🎥+📚)
Steve McGarrett and Joe White (Hawaii Five-O 📺)
Peter Parker and Tony Stark (Marvel 🎥)
Timothy McGee and Leroy Jethro Gibbs (NCIS 📺)
Tony DiNozzo and Leroy Jethro Gibbs (NCIS 📺)
Christopher Lasalle and Dwayne Pride (NCIS New Orleans 📺)
Darius Tanz and Liam Cole (Salvation 📺)
Walter O’Brien and Cabe Gallo (Scorpion 📺)
Jason Hayes and Clay Spenser (SEAL Team 📺)
Sam and Dean Winchester and Bobby Singer (Supernatural 📺)
Neal Caffrey and Peter Burke (White Collar 📺)
---------------------------------------
Brothers
Brax Wolff and Christian Wolff (The Accountant 🎥)
Luke Matthews and Holden Matthews (Beyond 📺)
Jamie Reagan and Danny Reagan (Blue Bloods 📺)
Jared Booth and Seeley Booth (Bones 📺)
Wyatt Halliwell and Chris Halliwell (Charmed 📺)
Jay Halstead and Will Halstead (Chicago PD/Med 📺)
Mike Leighton and Angus Leighton (Code Black 📺)
Robert Sugden and Andy Sugden (Emmerdale 📺)
Hal Mason, Ben Mason and Matt Mason (Falling Skies 📺)
Newt Scamander and Theseus Scamander (Fantastic beasts + where to find them 🎥)
Troy Otto and Jake Otto (Fear the Walking Dead 📺)
Tim Riggins and Billy Riggins (Friday Night Lights 📺)
Seth Gecko and Richard Gecko (From Dusk Till Dawn 📺)
Max Lawson and Jake Lawson (Geostorm 🎥)
Brad Land and Brett Land (Goat 🎥)
Peter Petrelli and Nathan Petrelli (Heroes 📺)
Brax, Heath and Casey Braxton (Home and Away 📺)
Gray Mitchell and Zach Mitchell (Jurassic World 🎥)
Joey Cassidy and Nick Cassidy (Man on a Ledge 🎥)
Loki Odison and Thor Odison (Marvel 📺+🎥)
Lorenzo de’ Medici and Giuliano de’ Medici (Medici 📺)
Don Eppes and Charlie Eppes (Numb3rs 📺)
Nathan Scott and Lucas Scott (One Tree Hill 📺)
Elijah Mikaelson and Klaus Mikaelson (The Originals 📺)
Bailey Salinger and Charlie Salinger (Party of Five 📺)
Beto Acosta and Emilio Acosta (Party of Five [2020] 📺)
Leo Corbett and Mike Corbett (Power Rangers Lost Galaxy 📺)
Brody Romero and Levi Weston (Power Rangers Ninja Steel 📺)
Michael Scofield and Lincoln Burrows (Prison Break 📺)
Thomas Peaceful and Charlie Peaceful (Private Peaceful 📚)
Luke Morrow and Jacob Morrow (Purple Hearts 🎥)
Ronan Lynch and Declan Lynch (The Raven Cycle 📚)
Sebastian and Francis (Reign 📺)
Lip Gallagher and Ian Gallagher (Shameless US 📺)
Will Byers and Jonathan Byers (Stranger Things 📺)
Jeremiah Fisher and Conrad Fisher (The Summer I Turned Pretty 📚📺)
Jordan Kent and Jonathan Kent (Superman and Lois 📺)
Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester (Supernatural 📺)
Jack Pearson and Nicky Pearson (This is Us 📺)
Kevin Pearson and Randall Pearson (This is Us 📺)
Scott, John, Virgil, Gordon and Alan Tracy (Thunderbirds 📺+🎥)
Damon Salvatore and Stefan Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries 📺)
Cordell Walker and Liam Walker (Walker 📺)
---------------------------------------
Like Brothers
Judd Ryder and TK Strand (911 Lone Star 📺)
Alex Standall and Zach Dempsey (13 Reasons Why 📺)
Oliver Queen and John Diggle (Arrow 📺)
Oliver Queen and Tommy Merlyn (Arrow 📺)
Matty McKibben and Jake Rosati (Awkward 📺)
Seeley Booth and Lance Sweets (Bones 📺)
Cory Matthews and Shawn Hunter (Boy Meets World 📺)
Jake Peralta and Charles Boyle (Brooklyn Nine-Nine 📺)
Angel and Spike (Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Angel 📺)
Kevin Ryan and Javier Esposito (Castle 📺)
Matt Casey and Kelly Severide (Chicago Fire 📺)
Jay Halstead and Greg Gerwitz (Chicago PD 📺)
John Casey and Chuck Bartowski (Chuck 📺)
Angus Leighton and Mario Savetti (Code Black📺)
Spencer Reid and Derek Morgan (Criminal Minds 📺)
Nick Stokes and Warrick Brown (CSI 📺)
Zeke Pedrad and Four (Divergent 📚)
Ephram Brown and Bright Abbott (Everwood 📺)
Barry Allen and Cisco Ramon (The Flash 📺)
Joey Tribbiani and Chandler Bing (FRIENDS 📺)
Derek Shepherd and Mark Sloan (Greys Anatomy 📺)
Harry Potter and Ron Weasley (Harry Potter 🎥+📚)
Steve McGarrett and Chin Ho Kelly (Hawaii Five-O 📺)
Steve McGarrett and Danny Williams (Hawaii Five-O 📺)
Steve McGarrett and Lou Grover (Hawaii Five-O 📺)
Caleb Odell and Ty Borden (Heartland 📺)
Colby Thorne and Dean Thompson (Home and Away 📺)
Gregory House and James Wilson (House 📺)
Eliot Spencer and Alec Hardison (Leverage 📺)
Lucifer and Dan Espinoza (Lucifer 📺)
Angus MacGyver and Jack Dalton (MacGyver 📺)
Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson (Marvel 🎥+📺)
Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes (Marvel 🎥)
Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson (Marvel 🎥)
Newt and Thomas (The Maze Runner 🎥+📚)
Merlin and Arthur Pendragon (Merlin 📺)
Will Lexington and Gunnar Scott (Nashville 📺)
Tony DiNozzo and Timothy McGee (NCIS 📺)
Sam Hanna and G Callen (NCIS LA 📺)
Nick Miller and Winston Schmidt (New Girl 📺)
Michael Bishop and Seymour Birkhoff (Nikita 📺)
Seth Cohen and Ryan Atwood (The OC 📺)
Prince Charming and Captain Hook (Once Upon a Time 📺)
JJ and John B (Outerbanks 📺)
Daniel Pierce and Max Lewicki (Perception 📺)
Michael Scofield and Fernando Sucre (Prison Break 📺)
Shawn Spencer and Burton (Gus) Guster (Psych 📺)
Richard Gansey and Ronan Lynch (The Raven Cycle 📚)
Nolan Ross and Aiden Mathis (Revenge 📺)
Jughead Jones and Archie Andrews (Riverdale 📺)
Michael Guerin and Max Evans (Roswell 📺)
Alex Manes and Kyle Valenti (Roswell New Mexico 📺)
Michael Guerin and Max Evans (Roswell New Mexico 📺)
Liam Henstridge and Jasper Frost (The Royals 📺)
Bravo team (SEAL Team 📺)
Clay Spenser and Sonny Quinn (SEAL Team 📺)
Jason Hayes and Ray Perry (SEAL Team 📺)
Jace Herondale and Alec Lightwood (Shadowhunters 📺)
Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (Sherlock 📺)
Jax Teller and Opie Winston (Sons of Anarchy 📺)
Kirk and Bones (Star Trek 📺+🎥)
Spock and Kirk (Star Trek 📺+🎥)
Han Solo and Luke Skywalker (Star Wars 🎥)
Poe Dameron and Finn (Star Wars 🎥)
Damien Scott and Michael Stonebridge (Strike Back 📺)
Mike Ross and Harvey Specter (Suits 📺)
Scott McCall and Stiles Stilinski (Teen Wolf 📺)
Stephen Jameson and John Young (The Tomorrow People 📺)
Alaric Saltzman and Damon Salvatore (The Vampire Diaries 📺)
Rick Grimes and Daryl Dixon (The Walking Dead 📺)
Neal Caffrey and Mozzie (White Collar 📺)
Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr (X-Men 🎥)
117 notes · View notes
micksradio · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Liam Lawson finished second practice on the fringes of the top 10, and the New Zealand rookie is now looking forward to finding more gains in FP3 before qualifying on Saturday.
22 notes · View notes
Text
Theo-Revenge
A/N- Hey guys, I hope you’re having a good holiday, whatever you’re celebrating. I’m feeling the Christmas spirit a little differently this year, but I’ve been working on this one for a long time. It might not be your typical cozy holiday story, but I hope you enjoy it.
“Y/n! Come take a shot with me!”
As soon as you stepped through Lydia’s front door, you smiled. 
Malia paid no mind to the cold wind rushing through the door as she strode over in shorts and a tank top. The only item of clothing on her body indicating it was winter was the fuzzy, red Santa hat she was wearing. 
She grabbed your arm and yanked you toward the kitchen before you could even take your coat off, leaving the door to slam behind you. 
You laughed. “Hold on!”
You barely had a chance to take in the decor before she was pulling you behind her.
Fake candle lamps lit the front of the house in every window. Tinsel and colorful, glowing 
lights were wrapped around the banister of the staircase. You could even smell the pine from the live wreath hanging from the door. 
Lydia’s parties were always extravagant, and this Christmas was clearly no exception.
When you stepped into the kitchen, she looked over her shoulder and smiled at you. She was leaning over one of the countertops, wearing a pair of elf ears tucked into her red curls. She was attempting to perfect a charcuterie board that already looked flawless. 
“Jesus, Malia, let her breath before you get her drunk.”
“Well she’s gonna need it.”
“Wait, what?” you asked.
She never got the chance to answer, but you managed to catch the dirty look Lydia 
flashed her. They knew something you didn’t.
“Why are you always going around slamming doors?” Stiles joked as he dug around in a large cooler on the floor.
 He pulled a couple beers out, dripping icy water onto the floor. “It’s like you were raised in the woods or something.”
He grinned at Malia. She rolled her eyes, but caught the beer he tossed to her without complaint. “Thanks.”
“I think that was technically me who slammed the door,” you told him, deciding to brush off Malia’s earlier comment.
“You want one, Y/n?” he asked. He was also wearing a pair of elf ears. 
“No thanks. I think I’ll take you up on that shot though.”
Malia grinned. “Yes!”
“You have to try the eggnog!” Lydia insisted.
Stiles groaned. “Aw, come on, Lydia. You know no one likes it.”
Lydia huffed and crossed her arms over her dress. “That’s actually not true. Scott’s drinking it right now. Right, Scott?”
“Scott just got a cup to be nice.”
Scott popped his head over the couch. He had been sitting on the sectional, in full view of the whole kitchen as Home Alone played quietly on the flat screen TV. Liam and Mason were sitting next to him, sporting their own Santa hats.
Sure enough, Scott was holding a bright red solo cup in his hand. 
“Isn’t it good?” Lydia asked pointedly.
Scott let out a nervous laugh. His brown eyes were wide and guilty. “It’s, uh…better than last year’s.”
Stiles burst out laughing. Lydia huffed and turned back to the charcuterie board in a flurry of curls and sparkly fringe.
“I’ll try a cup,” you promised her.
She flashed you a grateful smile and gestured with the knife she had been cutting cheese with. “It’s in that punch bowl.”
You pulled off your coat, and tucked it into the hall closet. When you returned to the kitchen, Malia was waiting eagerly with two plastic shot glasses in her hand. 
You eyed the amber colored liquid carefully, and then decided to pour yourself a cup of eggnog to wash it down with. Once you were ready, you tapped your shot against Malia’s and tossed it back. 
You winced at the burn of the alcohol and quickly chased it down with the eggnog, grimacing at the taste. 
“That was disgusting.”
“The whiskey?” Lydia asked hopefully. 
“Both. Sorry Lyds.”
Deflated, she turned back to slicing up her block of gouda, muttering to herself. “There’s always next year.”
Stiles grinned and threw an arm around her shoulders. “That’s the spirit!”
“You do realize I’m holding a knife don’t you?”
You laughed at their banter as you followed Malia into the living room. She headed straight for the stereo, cranking the volume up.
“Dance with me!” 
The rest of the night became a blur. You, Malia, and Lydia danced for what felt like hours. Even the boys joined you after a while, though everyone took a break when Stiles insisted on performing his own rendition of ‘Last Christmas’. 
You took shot after shot and, eventually, you didn’t even mind the taste of Lydia’s spiked eggnog. She was so proud she nearly burst into tears. You didn’t have the heart to admit that you were so drunk you didn’t care anymore.
Right as Malia was managing to talk you into your sixth shot, Lydia’s doorbell rang. You glanced across the room, taking a mental tally of your friends. Everyone in the pack was there.
“Did we invite someone else?” you asked Stiles. 
A strange look crossed his face. You couldn’t read it.
“Scott?”
The Alpha had never had the best poker face, and tonight was no exception. He looked guilty as hell. 
“Guys, what’s going on?”
Liam and Mason shrugged. They looked just as clueless as you were. 
“Malia?” you demanded.
“They said I couldn’t tell you!” she blurted. 
Stiles hissed her name, but you never got the chance to ask her what she was talking about. Lydia walked back into the living room, casually gesturing toward the kitchen. 
“If you want something to drink,” she was telling someone. “Eggnog and liquor are in there.”
Trailing behind her, looking sheepish, was Isaac Lahey. He was bundled up in a gray coat and a matching scarf that was tucked around his neck. His dark blonde curls weren’t even mussed from the wind. He looked as perfect as he always had, and the sight filled you with rage.
As if he could sense your anger, he looked toward you. He had the nerve to smile. “Hey, Y/n.”
Instead of saying all the insulting things that were hovering on the tip of your tongue, you simply shoved past the others and hurried down the hall. 
This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. 
It had taken you months to stop crying when Isaac had betrayed you and disappeared off to France when the pack needed him most. Now, over a year later, you felt like you were finally healing. Of course Isaac had to return and ruin that too. 
“Y/n, wait!”
You paused in the middle of the hallway. Your gut was telling you to keep walking, but there was a small, wounded part of you that wanted to see what Isaac had to say.
“Just hear me out,” he begged. “Please?”
Before you had a chance to answer, he was already pulling you down the hall and into one of Lydia’s guest rooms. He shut the door behind you, muffling the sound of “Santa Baby” that was playing in the background. 
You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at him bitterly. What could he possibly say that could make things right between the two of you?
“Listen. What happened with me and Allison…that wasn’t me.”
Your jaw dropped. You certainly hadn’t expected that. 
“I was possessed by the Nogitsune,” he continued. “It made me do that on purpose. It knew it was going to ruin our relationship.”
You felt rage boiling up inside you. “Seriously? Okay, what’s your excuse for completely disappearing with Allison’s dad?”
“I was hurting-”
“You never even called!”  
He stepped forward, grabbing both of your hands. “Y/n, I still love you. I’ve always loved you and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything-”
You shook your head and jerked your hands out of his grasp. “Nope. No way. I’m not doing this with you.”
For over a year, you had ached for some kind of explanation, for an apology from Isaac. Now that it was coming out of his mouth (however half-assed it may have been), you realized it didn’t matter. You didn’t need one anymore.
When it came to your friends, though, that was an entirely different story. You couldn’t believe they had just sprung this on you.
You shoved open the guest room door and headed right for Lydia’s coat closet. You yanked the fabric off the hanger, not even bothering to shut the door behind you.
“Where are you going?” Isaac asked. “You’re drunk.”
“Anywhere but here,” you muttered. 
You stalked down the hall, passing the living room on the way out. Everyone was staring at you. Aside from Liam and Mason, the guilt was plain on their faces. 
“Fuck all of you!” you spat.
You turned away and walked toward the door, hurt that your friends had kept Isaac’s return from you. 
You heard heels clicking on the tile behind you. Lydia was trying to follow you. 
“What the hell?” you hissed, whirling around to face her. “You couldn’t have given me a head’s up?”
“If you knew he was going to be here, you would never have shown up,” she protested.
“You’re damn right.”
Lydia sighed. “Don’t you think it’s time you forgave him?”
“For cheating on me with Allison and then disappearing off to France? I think I have every right to never forgive him.”
When you turned, Lydia grabbed your wrist. “Y/n, you can’t drive like this!”
“I’m not going to!”
You jerked open the front door and stormed out, slamming it behind you.
You trudged down the icy sidewalk, still attempting to zip up your coat. The zipper was caught on the lining, and no matter how much you tried to force it up, it wouldn’t budge. 
Your frustration was beginning to boil over. You couldn’t believe the entire pack had lied to you about Isaac’s return.
Tears began to slip from your eyes. You stubbornly wiped them away. Even though Lydia’s neighborhood was deserted, you didn’t want to take the chance of someone seeing you cry. 
Despite your fears, no one seemed to notice as you stalked past countless multi-colored lights and obnoxious blow-up decorations. Everyone was inside their warm houses, celebrating Christmas Eve with their own friends and family. 
Your vision began to blur slightly, and it occurred to you that maybe that fifth shot with Malia had been too much. 
You kept walking until you were sure no one would follow you. The cold December air was stinging your face, but you were too stubborn to turn around and go back. 
You knew you looked ridiculous, stumbling around in the cold, but at that point going back would have drawn more attention to yourself. At least out there, there was no one to see you.
You walked so far that you reached a part of Lydia’s neighborhood you didn’t recognize, even though you had been visiting her here for 12 years.
There was a playground about forty yards ahead with a small parking lot next to it. It was deserted, save for one black truck that didn’t seem to be running. 
Just as you looked back toward the walkway, your legs flew out from under you. Your back slammed onto the cement, and you wheezed in pain.
When you felt the ground underneath you, it was slick and cold. You must have slipped on a patch of ice and gotten the wind knocked out of you.
Theo Raeken, who had been sleeping in the back of his truck, looked up when he heard your footsteps. He had parked in this neighborhood hoping to find a place to sleep without someone calling the police on him. When he looked out the back window and saw you stumbling around with your coat half-way unzipped, he began to think he had picked the wrong parking lot. 
But as you trudged down the sidewalk, he realized you didn’t seem to notice him at all. You were probably too plastered to recognize his truck, but then why were you all alone?
Part of him wanted to get out and check on you, but he hesitated. No one in Scott’s pack liked him, and they certainly didn’t trust him. There was a pretty good chance you would spit in his face if he offered to help you. 
As if the universe was making the choice for him, you suddenly slipped on a patch of ice. Theo watched you slam onto the ground with a violent thump, and he sighed. 
It looked like he would try to be the good guy tonight.
You laid there on the ground for a few moments, unable to move until the breath came back into your lungs. It was a clear night in Beacon Hills, and the stars were shining brightly in the night sky.
Suddenly, the constellations above your head were replaced with a familiar face looming over yours. His dark brown hair had grown longer and shaggier, and he didn’t look as clean and polished as he once had, but you would recognize those piercing eyes anywhere.
“Theo?” you asked, your voice hoarse.
“Need a hand?”
You nodded, and he knelt next to you. Theo helped you up into a sitting position, examining the back of your head. You weren’t bleeding, which was a good sign. 
He glanced down at your face, which was still flushed bright red. He could tell that it wasn't from the cold. 
“Rough night?”
“You could say that.”
“Here,” he said, standing up and offering his hand. “Let me walk you back to wherever you came from.”
You snorted. “Hell no.”
“What? You don’t trust me?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Did you seriously just ask me that?”
“Alright,” he agreed. “I deserve that.”
You shook your head. “You’re not the problem. I’m not going back there.”
“To where?”
“To Lydia’s.”
“So what? You’re going to walk around here in the cold all night?”
“Maybe.” You crossed your arms stubbornly over your chest, still sitting in the patch of ice. “What are you doing out here?”
“Well, I was trying to sleep, until you fell on your ass and woke me up.”
You frowned, glancing over at his truck, which still wasn’t running. “Why are you sleeping out here in the cold?”
“Why do you think?” he asked. “I can’t exactly get a job or an apartment when I’ve been living in underground tunnels for the past ten years.”
“Oh.”
“Come on,” Theo insisted.
He reached out again, and you reluctantly took his hand. “Be caref-”
When you stood up, your boots hit the exact same patch of ice, sending you sliding again. 
Luckily, Theo was there to catch you this time. His arm came around your waist, catching your body pulling you against him before you could fall. 
He had pressed you against his chest so tightly that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He was gazing down at you with those piercing blue-green eyes, and you swore you saw a hint of a smile on his lips. 
Your heart was hammering in your chest, and it wasn’t from fear. 
You cleared your throat. “Uh, thanks.”
“No problem.”
He let you go, easing you back onto the sidewalk. 
“Let me take you back. It’s only going to get colder.”
You bristled. “No. I told you, I’m not going back there.”
“Why?” he asked. “You have a fight with Lydia or something?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you snapped. “I’m not going.”
Theo huffed and threw up his hands. “Fine. Sit out here and freeze then.”
“As if you actually care.”
You stalked away as your breath billowed out in front of you. Theo was right. It was getting colder by the minute.
You fumbled with your zipper as you headed in the opposite direction. Theo looked over his shoulder. You were struggling with your coat as you walked, and if he looked close enough, he could see tears slipping down your red cheeks. You  weren’t just drunk, there was clearly something wrong.
He sighed and then, against his better judgment, he turned and called out your name. 
You paused. “What?”
“At least let me fix your jacket.” He jogged over.
You were too drunk to protest as he stepped closer, and you realized that you didn’t really want to. He felt so warm. You were briefly tempted to lean in and curl up against him, but you told yourself that was the alcohol talking. 
Theo grabbed the zipper and fabric, and, in one smooth motion, pulled them apart without breaking them. Then, he zipped the coat all the way up to your chin and smoothed down the shoulders.
You stared up at him, a little shocked. The action was so tender. It was something you never would have expected from Theo. 
“You don’t have to tell me why you won’t go back,” he began. “But at least come sit in the truck. It’s warmer.”
“Okay.”
When you followed Theo into his truck, he started his car and turned up the heat. 
“You don’t have to turn it on just for me,” you told him. 
“I’m cold too,” he promised, but you had a suspicion he was exaggerating for your sake.
You leaned back into his passenger seat. “Why are you being so nice?”
“I’m trying this new thing where I actually help people instead of hurting them.”
You smiled. “I think you’re doing pretty good.”
He looked over at you. He was smiling too.
“Do you want me to take you anywhere else?” he asked. “I can drive you home.”
You shook your head. “My keys are in Lydia’s house. I’m gonna have to go back there eventually, just not now.”
“Do you…wanna talk about it?”
You took a deep breath. “It’s kind of complicated.”
“I’ve got all night.”
You bit the inside of your cheek. Spilling your guts to Theo Raeken was something you weren’t keen on, but then again, he didn’t really have room to judge. You needed to open up to somebody, and it looked like it was going to have to be him.
You took a deep breath. “So I used to date this guy named Isaac…”
Theo sat there and listened as you explained the events from earlier that night. 
Much to your surprise, he listened intently. He nodded along with what you were saying, sometimes raising an eyebrow or frowning, but he never interrupted you once. 
When you were finished, he whistled. 
“I don’t blame you for being angry. That guy sounds like an asshole…and that’s saying something coming from me.”
“And the worst part,” you continued softly. “He tried to tell me he still loved me.”
Theo raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”
You nodded. “He said he loved me the entire time. Even when he kissed Allison…even when he left without telling me.”
Theo could see the tears welling in your eyes. 
“You wanna believe it, don’t you?” he asked gently. 
You nodded again, reaching up to wipe the tears off your cheeks. “Yeah I do, but…I think he’s lying. I mean, I’m not a werewolf, but I can tell.”
“No one who loves you would let you walk around in the cold, drunk and alone. He’s lying. And you don’t have to be a werewolf to see that.”
“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “I know.”
Theo let out a scoff. “What a dick. If that were me, I would have chased after you. I’d be running up and down the street looking for you, trying to prove it.”
You smiled. “That’s sweet.”
He shrugged. “It’s true. It’s what anyone who loves you would be doing.”
You nodded. 
“Speaking of,” he continued. “Where’s Scott and his little band of heroes?”
You bit the inside of your cheek. It felt strange to be bad-mouthing your pack with Theo, but they were the only friends you had. It wasn’t like you had anyone else to talk to.
“They’re back at Lydia’s…partying with Isaac.”
“They knew he was coming and they didn’t tell you?”
You shook your head.
He snorted. “And they were surprised when you stomped out of there?”  
“They think I should forgive him.”
Theo seemed thoughtful. “Would that make you feel better?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know.”
He shook his head, leaning back in the seat and throwing his arms behind his head. “You want my opinion?”
“I have a feeling you’re going to give it anyway.”
He rolled his eyes. Then, his face grew somber again.
“Forgiveness is overrated,” he told you softly. “Revenge is much more satisfying.”
“You’re saying I should get revenge?”
“No, I’m saying you don’t have to forgive him, not if you don’t want to. Sometimes you can’t. Sometimes there’s no good way to feel about something.”
You knew he was talking about the Dread Doctors. They had stolen him as a child, and manipulated him into killing his sister and becoming their monster.
You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything, Theo spoke. It looked like that would be a conversation for another day.
“I should get you home.”
“I think I’m sobering up-”
Before you could finish protesting, he waved you off. “I’ll run into Lydia’s and get your keys.”
You blinked. “You’d do that? But-”
“They already hate me,” he told you with a shrug. “I’m not worried about it.”
You briefly wondered why Theo was being so nice to you. Of course, it could have been a ploy to worm his way back into the pack, but he didn’t seem like he thought very highly of them anymore. 
Maybe this was his attempt at trying to be human. That was something you could respect, and, after all, he had helped you up off the ice. He had listened when no one else seemed to care.
“You wanna come home with me?” you asked him suddenly. 
Theo laughed. “I thought you said you were sobering up.”
“I am.” You rolled your eyes at him. “What?  You think I’m trying to invite you into bed with me?”
Theo grinned. “Are you offering?”
You smacked his shoulder, and he laughed. “You’re a fucking pig!”
“You know I can see you smiling, right?”
You glanced away, looking out the foggy window, suddenly feeling like the whole idea was silly. “I was going to offer you my spare room.”
Theo didn’t answer. You looked back, but he was no longer smiling anymore. He seemed more guarded than he had been all night.
 “You don’t have to do that.”
“I know I don’t, but you’ve been keeping me warm. I’m not letting you freeze in your truck all night.”
“I’m fine.”
“Stay for one night,” you insisted. “Then we’ll be even.”
Theo studied you for a moment. He was clearly skeptical of your kindness.
“You’d be doing me a favor. I probably shouldn’t be driving anyway.”
You understood his hesitation, but you didn’t want him to be out there alone, especially around Christmas. There was also the fact that you didn’t want to return to an empty apartment and stew about Isaac’s return all night by yourself. Maybe your motives were partly selfish, but if Theo picked up on that, he didn’t seem to care. 
“Alright. I’ll stay for tonight.”
He put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot. Though you had walked for what seemed like forever, he was pulling to a stop in Lydia’s driveway in about ten minutes.
“I’ll run in and get your keys.”
You glanced toward the house. It looked warm and inviting, glowing bright with all the multi-colored lights Lydia and her mother had strung up. You wanted more than anything to go back in there and enjoy the holiday cheer with everyone else, but you knew that wasn’t happening tonight. You were too angry.
Theo began to get out of the truck, but you called out to him.
“Wait, I want to come with you.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”
“You said revenge is much more satisfying, right?”
His lips curled into a grin. “Yeah, I did.”
You walked up to the porch and instructed Theo to stay there and wait. When you walked back inside the house, Lydia, Scott and Isaac all rushed into the foyer. 
“Y/n,” Lydia snapped. “What’s wrong with you? You scared the hell out of us!”
“Lydia,” Scott chastised. “We were just worried about you, Y/n.”
You ignored them as you grabbed your purse from where you had placed it in the coat closet.
When you began to turn away, Lydia grabbed your wrist. “You’re leaving again?
“You didn’t even come after me,” you pointed out. “So clearly you weren’t that worried.”
Lydia flushed. Scott looked down at his feet, and Isaac was standing there with a dumbfounded look, as usual.
“You can’t drive like that,” she said softly.
“I’m not the one driving.”
They all stared at you with a mixture of confusion and disappointment. Before they could ask any more questions, you were gone, slamming the front door behind you. 
You remained there on the porch for a few seconds. Theo was waiting there, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. Once you were sure they were watching, you grabbed Theo by the collar and kissed him. He froze for a moment, surprised at the feel of your lips on his. He hadn’t expected that this was what you had in mind, but he wasn’t complaining.
He suddenly gripped your hips with an eagerness that startled you. His lips were warm 
and hungry. He was kissing you like he was starving, but, then again, maybe he was. You weren’t the only one who had been alone for so long. 
You gripped the soft flannel of his jacket, digging your nails in when he bit your bottom lip playfully. You suppressed the moan that was threatening to escape your mouth.
You and Theo were so lost in each other that, for a moment, you forgot your original plan. You were quickly reminded when you heard a low growl coming from behind Lydia’s door. 
“Isaac, stop,” a voice warned.
You pulled away, breathless and a little stunned at the fervor Theo had shown when he kissed you. “Let’s go.”
He held open the passenger side door of the truck for you, and you were both silent as you got in the car. You refused to look at him until you were out of Lydia’s neighborhood. When you finally did, you saw that he was grinning. 
“What?” you asked. 
He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not trying to invite me into bed with you?”
You laughed. “We’ll see how the rest of the night goes.”
89 notes · View notes
treason-and-plot · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Saffron slowly opens the door of the music room to find Liam slouched in a chair, poking disconsolately at his phone.
“Hey,” she says and he jumps to his feet, his eyes bulging with surprise and gratitude. He shuts the door behind her then locks it.
“I can’t believe you came,” he says in feverish whisper, grabbing her hands. “I thought you were too angry with me after last night.”
“I nearly didn’t,” she says. “And I’m still very angry. But I’m also feeling very…” She bites her lip, thinking about Connor’s lazy fringe of hair and how it contrasts with the angularity of his face, and how his arse looked in the black skinny jeans he was wearing yesterday at the café. She smiles coyly at Liam, whose mournful eyes are dark and damp with longing. His hands tighten around hers.
“If anyone knocks on the door, I’ll answer it and tell them that I was just using the room to mark some papers," he says. “And you can hide in that cupboard over there. But nobody will knock. I’m sure of it. Nobody’s booked the room until mid-morning.”
“If someone knocks on the door you can hide in the cupboard,” says Saffron. "Not me."
“Okay,” says Liam, his hands fumbling for her bra. “Okay. Whatever you want, Saffy.“
“Don’t you dare forget it, Mr. McFarlane,” says Saffron.
118 notes · View notes
thefringespod · 9 months
Text
Its another #AudioDramaSunday and I have once again survived work solely because of excellent shows
Starting off this week once again is @tellnotalespod which I got caught up on this week and felt every imaginable human emotion. TNT is SO good!!!! If you're not listening you should!!!!!!
Also this week was some HEARTBREAKING @re-dracula episodes. Alasdair Stuart has crushed my heart with his performance as the captain of the Demeter. Just an excellent EXCELLENT performance in an excellent excellent show
@doyoucopypod released episode 4 this week and yikes on bikes there is a LOT happening!! The Dead Zone continues to be baffling and terrifying and the fear in Addison and Liam's voices broke me. I'm so excited to see what comes next!
There was new Technomancy Project this week and I'm still NOT OKAY FROM IT. I thought it'd be a fun zombie episode but noooo I end up crying at my desk because I love Jason so much. My theory doc has been revisited and new info has been updated. I fucking love the Technomancy Project!!!!!!!!!!!
Public release for @malevolentcast episode 34 was last Monday and it's one of the best episodes of Malevolent yet. It was stressful and terrifying and so well executed that it will be spinning in my brain forever
@ethicstownpod episode 6 has me gnawing on wood like an anxious beaver and creating a digital red string board. Idk what's going on with January but I DONT TRUST IT!!!!!!!! Ethics Town continues to astound in every aspect but also I am gazing upon it distrustfully because it WILL hurt me <3
ONGOING CROWDFUNDERS: we've got 25 days left for Shelterwood https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/shelterwood-a-suburban-gothic#/
24 days left for @levianpod https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/levian-podcast#/
And 11 days left for @innbetween https://crowdfundr.com/InnBetween5?ref=ab_6CcjDb_ab_Ao4acauxDnoAo4acauxDno
And as another reminder @chainofbeing begins crowdfunding on the 13th! You can follow their page now to be notified when it goes live
Here on the Fringes we're working on recording season 2 as well as some bonus content that will be released in the lead up to the second season! My phenomenal cast continues to be phenomenal and I can't WAIT for yall to hear what they've been working on <3
Week ahead is promising my return to @hellofromthehallowoods which I'm very very excited for Still early days for me there (only 15 eps in so far) and I'm very in love with the story
That's all for this week!
20 notes · View notes
talkinfanfic · 1 year
Note
Hi Storyshark! I'm a big Oasis fan and I think you're such a great writer! Is there any chance you would write more Gallaghercest "origin stories"? I always love to read about how it all started and like stories that are set in the early days of the band and before Liam even joined.
Did you ever entertain the idea about writing something that touches on the topic of why Liam's relationship to big brother Paul is so different to big brother Noel? I think it's quite interesting to think about what could have happened in their childhood and youth that made Liam crave Noel's attention and approval more than Paul's and made Noel more of a father figure to him. And I think anyone who meets Liam would be attracted by his beauty and charisma, so I think it's also interesting to think about how Paul reacts in a different way to it than Noel. And the topic of Noel feeling guilty of what he's doing to and how he's feeling about his baby brother is also always so interesting.
Thanks for reading and have a good day!
Thank you so much for reading and submitting an ask, gosh how flattering! For anyone interested in my writing, you probably already know I've got a blog over here (@storyshark2005) To answer your question-- Yeeeesss actually! I've got a few ideas and WIPs going right now in the "Been and Gone" universe. It's just a matter of time and me focusing long enough to get the next one out!
Paul in particular is the story I'm probably most focused on. I was just working on it last night! I'll stick a teaser below :) But here's kind of a rough checklist of what I'll be trying to accomplish...
Gene POV - done! Summary: “The sins of the father are to be laid upon the children.” Falling down (2005 - 2019).
"A Week in Mustique" - multi POV, some shorter glimpses from multiple characters over the course of a family holiday in Mustique!
Paul POV - Paul trying to be his own man. Some possible romance with Katie. His complicated relationship with his brothers. Feeling outside.
Sara POV. - Set during and after Story IV. Honestly I had a whole thing for this, but story 4 turned out a bit different, so I'll have to mull this one over... but it'll prob flash back to Sara's upbringing, and also go into some of broke down in their marriage, which isn't JUST the Liam factor. (*cough* freaky fridays *cough)
Matt Morgan POV - A night out, late in 2022. Maybe a party to celebrate one of Noel's singles releasing. He finds out about Liam/Noel. Debbie brings him into the circle. We see Debbie stressing being the 'secret keeper'.
Debbie POV - Debbie finding the Liam/Noel thing more intense than maybe she’d thought, navigating where she fits in. The REAL start of the Noel/Debbie bit of the triangle!
Anyway here's a bit from "Paul" below the cut:
Tumblr media
Saturday, 19 August 1978. Burnage, Manchester
“Eeyare,” Noel pokes his head in the door. He’s all sweaty, fringe stuck to his forehead. “What’s the score, our kid?” 
“One-nil to Derby. Charlie George, overhead kick.”
Noel’s nose wrinkles. “Gooner cunt. Can I borrow your guitar?” He nods to the corner behind Paul’s bed, where the cheap little Yamaha acoustic lay dusty and neglected.
“No.” 
“Well you’re not fuckin’ playin’ it.” 
“Yeah, and neither are you.” Paul adjusts the dial, swiveling from the commentary on Picadilly Sport, over to the BBC2.
“Whatever. I’ll just play it tonight while you’re out helping the old fella.” 
The dial skitters to a staticky stop. Fuck, but he’d forgotten. 
“It’s your turn,” Noel says flatly. “He’s got 32 Club tonight.”
He’s right, is the thing. Noel hadn’t come home last night till almost 3am. It’s Paul’s turn to haul the boxes of vinyl into the club, and then nurse a coke in the corner for six hours while Tommy DJ spins his tunes and then pisses away the week’s earnings on cards.
A sudden thunder of trainers pounds up the stairs, and Liam comes skidding into frame, crashing up against Noel’s hip. He’s bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, and just as sweaty as Noel, fringe split in half by a violent cowlick. He’s wearing a faded old ringer tee with Ernie from Sesame Street on the front that used to belong to Noel (and possibly Paul before him). 
“I want a Capri-Sonne,” he curls a fist in Noel’s shirt and tugs. He’s got grass stains on his knees from chasing Noel and his mates around the park. 
Liam’s a horrible little brother. Five-going-on-six, he’s lightning in a bottle, caught only just barely-- crackling and popping with a heaving, restless energy. He’s also a charming little fucker when he needs to be, which he never does around Noel or Paul. The church ladies and the aunties think he’s an angel.
Noel ignores the tugging and whining. Paul can see a fading bruise above his elbow where their Dad had grabbed him last week, screaming about some perceived slight or uppity attitude Noel had apparently been giving off.
“Hewitt nicked the Pistols record from Sifter’s. Youngie and Vince are comin’ over, we’re all goin’ round his in a bit for a listen.”
“Oh yeah?” 
“Yeah,” Noel shrugs. 
Liam butts his face into Noel’s stomach. Noel allows it, resting a hand on top of his bowl cut. Noel casts his gaze somewhere out the window, out to the clouds, barely invested in the conversation, or the little brother buzzing under his hands.
Liam gives another headbutt, drawing a scowl and Noel’s attention back.
“Fucking stop it--” 
“I WANT my FUCKING DRINK!”
Paul looks down at his scorecard. “Maybe after the match.” 
Noel looks up, distracted with Liam wrangled into a one-armed headlock. Liam has his arms wrapped around Noel’s waist like an obnoxious little squid.  
“What?” 
“I said, maybe I’ll come round after the match.” 
Paul’s not really planning to show up. He could go round Hewitt’s any day to listen to the album. And it’d be better without Noel there, anyway, talking all the way through. (Mister fucking McCharmley, was Noel. Hewitt had been Paul’s mate, originally.)
Anyway. Noel’s only asking ‘cos he knows Mam’ll ask him where he’s off to, and why Paul’s not going with. 
“Whatever.” Noel shrugs and turns out of the room, disentangling himself from Liam’s sticky grasp. “Liam, getoff--!” 
“I’m coming, too!”
“No you’re fucking not.”
“Noely!” Liam curls his fingers into the back of Noel’s shirt and tugs again, whining for his Capri-Sonne. 
“Get it yourself!” 
“Mam put ‘em on top of the fridge, I can’t reach--!”  
Noel groans but diverts down the stairs, and Liam gives out a joyous whoop of triumph.
Paul sighs, turning back to the radio. Halftime, still one-nil. He skips back to Radio 2. Which is when he hears it. 
Years and years and years later, Paul will meet this photographer friend who’s into fucking birds, of all things. Like...photographing them, and going on trips to find rare ones. This friend, she tells him about her ‘spark bird’. Apparently, a spark bird is the first bird that lights the match in you, that makes you want to get up at the crack of fucking dawn and go creeping through a marsh for a glimpse of some rare South American ruffle-headed whats-a-ma-doo. 
Paul doesn’t give a fuck about birds. But he knows what she means when she talks about a spark bird. Because Paul’s always liked music, same as he likes talking to pretty girls, and the smell of brand new trainers, and Man City winning a string of matches. 
But something about what he hears crashing through the speakers that Saturday afternoon; that strange, hitching synthesizer bit in the intro; the fast-train staccato of Keith Moon up on the hi-hat, nervous like a racing heart; Entwhistle dancing patiently underneath, holding the rhythm down; Townshend’s carelessly cool, yet exacting and luxuriant guitar work; and above it all, Roger Daltrey’s relentless, fearless growl demanding an answer to the most important question that Paul had never heard asked before, by anyone, including himself:
Who are you? 
Who? 
Who?
Paul listened that day, and then bought and nearly wore out the single over the next few months, totally entranced and unable to answer. Anything he could have mustered seemed superficial, insubstantial: ‘Paul Anthony Gallagher, son of Peggy and Tommy, brother to Noel and Liam.’ 
And what else, the question seemed to beg, what else?! Give me something real-- who the fuck are you??
Make something of yourself, it seemed to say. Find an answer.
Years and years and years later, despite the fire burning in his belly to do something, be someone...he still doesn’t have an answer. 
‘The other brother,’ maybe. 
Anyway. Fuck knows. Maybe he’s nobody. Most people are nobody. They’re born, they live and they have a few dreams, and then they die with most of those dreams unrealised. 
That’s just life, mate. It’s not that tragic a story. ***
29 notes · View notes