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eva, 20, 🇵🇭, she / her

gcesters DNI !! no ai used in my writing

the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be a part of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.

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UPTOWN GIRL - pt. 1

prefame!liam x fem!reader

in which: The daughter of one of the wealthiest (and possibly strictest) families in town goes out one night to see a band play in a cramped pub. She doesn't expect to leave with a date with the lead singer the next day. What starts as secret meetings after school and chip shop dates turns into something bigger- but with a father determined to keep them apart, things soon head for disaster. a/n: This is my first fic on oasisblr and actually the first full one I've written probably since I was 14 writing dramione fanfics on wattpad LOL so please ignore how rusty I am. This is pretty much straight fluff and I was originally going to make this a one-shot but I'm splitting it up into probably (?) 2 parts just so it's not too long. For some context, it's meant to be set in Manchester and they're both around 17/in year 11. wc: 5,807

There was nothing you hated more than sitting in greasy, packed pubs with loud crowds that cheered raucously after every cover the band played. Yet that was the situation you seemed to find yourself in this evening. What’s more, your head was pounding, you were ridiculously overdressed, and most of all, you’d gone through hell convincing your parents to let you stay out past nine. Nine, on a Saturday night. If the absurdly early curfew gave any idea as to just how strict your parents were, then anyone could tell that even getting them to let you go out in the first place had taken great efforts.

All because Lila- your best friend and the single most persistent person you knew- had spent the better part of the day badgering you into coming out tonight because “the best band ever is playing!” It’d be “sooo fun” she’d insisted, and eventually you’d caved, though more to shut her up than anything else.

But so far, the night hadn’t even come close to justifying the argument it took to get you here, and you were beginning to regret ever listening to her.

You stared into your drink, swirling it absently as the band stepped down from the stage into a round of drunken applause. It seemed that the louder that they became, the more your eyes glazed over until the roar of the crowd dissolved into a dull, distant hum. “Still with us?” Lila said, waving her hand in front of your face. “You know, maybe you wouldn’t be so bored if you actually said yes to things every now and then.”

You snapped out of your thoughts. “What are you talking about? Only reason I’m here in the first place was because I said yes to you.”

“You know that’s not what I meant! Three blokes have asked to buy you a drink already tonight, that’s three more than me- and you’ve turned down all of them.”

“I don’t go out with guys, you know that. Besides, if you wanted any of them, you’re more than welcome.”

She rolled her eyes. “You could start. Might do you some good, having fun for once.”

You sighed. “It’s just not my sort of thing. And perhaps I would if they didn’t all seem like complete idiots,” you added, though you knew that really wasn’t the issue.

“How would you know? You never even so much as glanced at any of them!” Lila shot back, exasperated. She straightened up in her chair and paused. “Right, new rule: no more saying no tonight.”

You stared at her for a moment. “Fine,” you replied defeatedly.

From a distance, you could hear a guy across the bar arguing loudly with his friends.

“Fat chance! She’s way too fit for you,” one teased.

“Go on then, bet she’ll just tell ya to fuck off.”

He scoffed. “Them birds can’t resist me. Watch and learn,” he retorted. Only then did you notice that they’d been looking in your direction, and now it seemed he was headed towards you.

You groaned.

“Here comes your man,” Lila teased, in the tune of the song. “Well, don’t go back on your promise now.”

You scoffed. “Please. As if-”

“Y’alright there?”

As it turned out, the guy from across the bar was the lead singer of the band who’d been playing earlier. He looked around your age, though he tried his very best to look older- his hair was messy, paired with clothes clearly two sizes too large that he probably thought made him look like a proper rockstar.

Yet, despite that, there was something unmistakeably boyish about him. You could picture his mum smoothing down his hair before he left (“come on mam, it’s fashion!”), only for him to ruffle it up the moment she’d turned her back.

“Perfectly fine, thanks” you replied, glancing away. Beside you, Lila sighed in exasperation.

“D’ya want a drink?”

The words no thanks nearly tumbled out of your mouth, but you suppressed them as she shot a pointed glare at you. Right.

“...Well, go on then.”

Lila flashed you a triumphant smile before going off to find another seat, leaving the empty seat beside you free. He dropped into it as if he belonged there and waved the barman over.

“A Malibu, please,” you told the barman.

He raised an eyebrow. “Bit fancy, that. Sure y’don’t want a pint?”

You sighed, regretting this agreement already. “On second thought, a pint’s perfectly fine. A Carling, then.”

“S’more like it,” he said, taking a swig out of his own drink. “So then. Hear us earlier? What’d you reckon?”

You tilted your hand in a so-so gesture. “Not bad.”

“Not bad? You’ve got high standards,” he said, laughing. “But I was the best bit, eh?”

“Bit full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Nah, ‘m just right.” His eyes flickered over you. “Bit posh, aren’t ya?”

That caught your attention, and you raised your eyebrows in mild surprise. “Touché.”

“What school d’ya go to?”

“Withington’s.”

“That’s that fancy girls’ college, innit?” His brows furrowed in thought. “I go Barlow. S’just down the road. Reckon I’ve seen you sometime.”

You studied him properly this time, and now that he’d mentioned it… There was something familiar about him. Vague memories came to mind of someone with his same walk and loud laugh hanging about outside the school gates once or twice with a crowd of other boys.

“Hang on,” you said, pointing at him. “You’re that bloke who nearly got banned from school for harassing girls. Liam Gallagher, isn’t it?”

“That was all a load of rubbish. I wasn’t harassing them, only trying to talk.”

“I’ve seen you about before trying to chat up some poor girl,” you recalled in amusement. “You always seem to corner them by the gates. Or ask them out shouting half across across the courtyard.”

He put a hand over his chest in mock offense. “I was being nice! And anyways, it works. Sometimes.”

“I just think that if you went about it properly, maybe it wouldn’t be just sometimes–”

“Must work well enough,” he interjected, tilting his head towards you. “‘Cause I’m talking to ya now, aren’t I?”

“Haven’t agreed to go out with you, though,” you replied with a shrug.

“Well, not yet.”

You rolled your eyes. “You know,” you said, refusing to let him derail your point, “being a gentleman. Giving them flowers and all that, not asking them out with half your friends watching.”

He stared at you in confusion for a second as if you were from another world, before letting out a laugh.

“How is that funny? Honestly…”

He shook his head, still grinning, and nodded towards the door. “Right. Wanna go outside? Bit easier t’hear each other.”

Finally. You’d been trying to get out of the bar since the moment you’d been dragged through the front door, and even talking to him would be worth an excuse to escape the unbearable noise. You glanced through the bar until you found Lila, who caught your eye instantly and gave you an exaggerated thumbs up once she saw Liam standing next to you.

Turning back to him, you put your drink down and smiled politely. “All right.”

He was already halfway to the door before you ever stood up, holding it open and stepping aside with an exaggerated flourish. “After you.”

You looked at him, tilting your head in amusement and walking out.

“See? I can be proper,” he said proudly as he shut the door.

The second the door closed behind you, the noise of the bar faded out and the cool air outside enveloped your face.

Liam was surprisingly easy to talk to. Sure, a bit annoying at first with the cocky way he spoke, but it soon gave way to a more genuine boyishness as he rambled on about the Beatles’ best albums and how “absolutely mega John Lennon is”. You ended up talking for maybe a half hour, and by the end of it you started to almost enjoy his stupid jokes; though you wouldn’t admit it to yourself.

It was strange. You’d seen him around before, ridiculed his confidence and the way he tried to pick up girls- but standing here, you saw a different side of him. Maybe you’d just never bothered to look properly, but he wasn’t exactly who you thought he’d be.

After a long pause in the conversation, he cleared his throat. “So…” he started, glancing down. It was subtle, but he seemed less sure of himself than he’d been all evening.

“Would you wanna go on a date with me?”

You blinked. It wasn’t the question that had caught you off guard. In fact, you’d half expected he’d ask it the first time he came up to you. No, it was more so the way he said it, with the tiniest hint of very un-Liam Gallagher-like doubt in himself.

“With you?”

He laughed. “Yeah, me, who else’d ya think?”

“No shouting across a courtyard? No cornering, even?” you teased.

“Thought I’d try something new.” Suddenly, he paused and looked at something at the edge of the pavement. “Wait, almost forgot something.”

He crouched down and picked something up. His hand outstretched, you could see what he’d picked up. It was a small white flower, one that had been growing through the cracks of the pavement. You stared at it.

“Consider it like a promise. I’ll bring some on the actual date,” he added.

Taking the flower out of his hand, you smiled at him. “You seem very confident that there will be an actual date.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Well, what d’ya say?”

Normally, you would have hesitated. Normally, you would have made up some excuse to say no, or even just said it out of spite for how sure he was. Lila would never know anyway.

But…you sighed. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

You sighed in mock exasperation. “I mean yes, Liam, I’ll go on a date with you.”

“Well, seems your advice works, then,” he said, his face breaking into a wide grin that he quickly tried to hide.

You laughed at his attempt to look indifferent. “Oh, but you’ll have to have me back before eight,” you added.

“Strict parents?”

“Just my father. Protective and all that, sorry it’s a bit early,” you said apologetically.

He waved it off dismissively. “Nah, ‘s okay. I’ll see you then. Pick ya up after school tomorrow?”

“Sure.” You looked away, trying to hide a small smile yourself.

Unfortunately, he noticed. “Aww, got ya smiling already.”

“Was not.”

“You most definitely were.”

***

Liam showed up after school as promised. According to a friend of yours who’d seen him from a window, he had left school early and run across the street, dashing through the gates of the courtyard exactly as the bell rang and sighing in relief. After ignoring Lila’s endless teasing, you found him leaning against a wall, trying to catch his breath and wiping off drips of sweat.

You stifled a laugh and stood there, waiting for him to notice. After a few moments, Liam looked up and started at seeing you, quickly straightening up and trying to play it off.

“Christ, ya scared me there.”

You laughed. “What’re you all sweaty for?”

“Er, nothing, had gym class before this is all,” he said, waving the question off.

“Really now? Thought I saw you running down the street earlier.”

“Uh…yeah, that too,” he admitted sheepishly. “Was just trying to be here on time.”

You couldn’t hold it anymore and burst into laughter. “Oh, don’t go acting all cool now, it was actually very nice of you.”

His face relaxed into a smile. It was obvious he’d been embarrassed about trying for once, why you couldn’t understand; it was probably something about contradicting the rockstar persona he tried so hard to be. As if him making an effort to come on time wasn’t shocking enough, he brought out a bouquet from behind his back.

“Here, ‘s for you. Like I promised, yeah?”

It was made up of some assorted flowers that he’d probably picked out from his mum’s garden, and was tied together with a piece of ribbon. Messy, because it had probably been his first time doing something like this; but the thought was clearly there.

Courtship wasn’t exactly unfamiliar to you. Your father was an old-fashioned type who believed in the parents choosing the dates, arranged marriage and the like, which meant there had been no shortage of “respectable young men” appearing at dinners over the years. They had given you flowers- all far bigger, prettier, and undoubtedly hundreds of times more expensive than this one…yet somehow, this gift mattered infinitely more than any of them.

He must have mistaken the expression on your face as you looked at them for something like disappointment, because he hastily added, “Mam picked these flowers. Know it’s probably a lot uglier than what you’re used to, but-”

You interrupted him with a hug. “No, Liam, I love it. It’s beautiful,” you insisted with a warm smile. “Really, I mean it.”

“Well, if you say so then,” he replied, his face lighting up. “Come on then, got to hurry up so I can return ya to Buckingham Palace before ya turn to dust.”

He led you through streets and alleys you’d never seen to a small restaurant tucked away in a corner. Despite its unassuming exterior, it was packed with a loud crowd of people inside; yet somehow there was an intimate, almost cozy feel to it. He led you to a table for two, which to your surprise had a rose in a vase and candle in the middle (which later you found out he’d arranged for with the owner, a friend of his mum’s).

“Best fish and chips shop in town. Used to go here nearly every day with my mam. Ever been?”

“No, never.” You paused. “Actually, I haven’t ever had fish and chips from a shop like this.”

His eyes widened in shock. “Never? You’ve never had chips wrapped in paper, with all the oil on them and that?”

You shook your head in confirmation, and he laughed incredulously. “What’ve ya been doing your whole life? Fucking hell. Just about the best thing ever, after school especially. Now you’ve got to try it.”

Amidst his relentless laughter (“Come on, it’s not that funny!”), you agreed to let him order for you. He watched you eagerly as you took the first bite.

“It’s…actually pretty good.”

He grinned. “Told ya.”

You sat at the store talking until you noticed people leaving and checked your watch- seven thirty! He paid the bill and you quickly left, but upon stepping outside, you discovered that it was pouring rain.

“Christ, what do we do! I’m going to be late,” you said, nervously pacing around. “My father’ll kill me!”

Liam shrugged. “Let’s run, then.” You looked at him in horror. “Are you blind? It’s pouring! We’ll be soaked-”

He interrupted you by grabbing your hand and before you could protest, suddenly dashing out into the rain and breaking into a sprint. You ran all the way home, the two of you nearly collapsing in exhaustion once you finally got there.

“Are you crazy? Look at us, we’re all wet!” you managed to exclaim between breaths.

He sat on the floor, panting. “Well, we’re on time, aren’t we?”

You shook your head incredulously.

“‘S a good thing I wore my running shoes today,” he joked.

“They’re the only ones you ever wear!” you replied, gesturing to his beat-up Adidas trainers. There was nothing really funny about what you’d said- or his joke- but it was one of those moments where just about everything seems hilarious, and you both fell into breathless fits of laughter.

Once you’d calmed down a bit, he straightened up and dusted off his pants. “You’ve got mascara down here,” he said, wiping away a smudge under your eye.

If it wasn’t so dark, he would’ve seen the way your cheeks flushed at his touch. “Thanks,” you muttered.

“So I suppose you wouldn’t mind another date? Seeing as this one didn’t go so bad…” he said with a hopeful grin.

“Didn’t go so bad?” you teased, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to your clothes.

“Hey, ‘s not my fault! And ya have to admit, it was pretty fun, eh?”

You shrugged playfully, pretending to take a moment to think about it. “Sure. But this time, I choose where we go.”

***

The next day, you took him on your date of choice as promised. It started with going to a nearby cafe and picking out some pastries, which you’d fully intended to pay for as you both knew he couldn’t afford them without probably running out of his pocket money for the month. Yet despite his gaping at the prices (“People actually pay this much for one biscuit?”) and your insistence on paying, you’d still had to resort to a tricky maneuver of distracting him so he wouldn’t sneakily slip some cash over the register before you had the chance to pay.

After, you brought him to a beautiful park by a lake, one of your favourite spots in town. It was the sort of place you went to when you just needed to get away from everything. It was a lazy Thursday afternoon and families were scattered across the grass, their children chasing each other along the paths as a row of ducks drifted across the water.

You wandered along the lakeside with your bags of pastries, breaking pieces off and feeding them to the ducks as you walked. Every few steps Liam would point out a different person and make up something about them, and it soon became a competition of who could come up with the better story.

“Right, I’ll do ya one better. See that bloke?” He nodded towards an elderly man sat calmly on a bench across the path.

You glanced over. “Yeah, what now?”

“Secret agent. Got an earpiece in his ear, see?”

You raised an eyebrow at what was most definitely a hearing aid.

“Watch,” he continued confidently. “In about ten seconds, he’ll fold the paper up, stand up, and walk off. ‘S like in the movies.”

You folded your arms, humoring him. One…two… by pure coincidence, the old man lowered his newspaper. Liam’s eyes widened dramatically. Three…four… the man stood up, tucked the newspaper under his arm, and wandered off.

He gasped and pointed after him. “What’d I tell ya!”

You pushed his hand down, laughing. “Hey, it’s rude to point! Look, they’re staring at us.”

“You just don’t wanna admit I’m right.”

“That was completely luck!”

“Luck? Nah, that’s years of detective work, that is.”

You continued walking until suddenly, Liam decided to veer off the path. He flopped onto the grass with a dramatic sigh, gesturing for you to join him before folding his arms behind his head.

You shook your head. “I’ll ruin my clothes.”

“So wash ‘em! Come on-” he said, interrupted by a fly landing on his nose. He swatted at it lazily at first, but it persisted in flying rounds around his head. Eventually, he’d worked himself up so much chasing it around that he tripped over a rock and fell, face-first. You burst into laughter as you walked over to him and helped him up. To your surprise, he was grinning triumphantly.

“What’re you smiling about? Have you gotten a concussion or something and gone crazy?” you teased between laughs.

“No, ‘s just that that’s the biggest laugh I’ve gotten out of you yet.”

“That was the fly, not you.”

“I’ll take partial credit,” he said, shrugging. “Now come on, lie down with me.”

You hesitated for a moment, thinking of what your parents would think seeing your uniform all rumpled and grass-stained- but there was just something so enticing about the soft grass and that look on his face. With a quiet sigh of surrender, you lowered yourself onto the patch beside him.

A comfortable silence had settled between the two of you as you bathed in the warm afternoon sun. You’d shifted slightly closer before resting your head against his shoulder, almost absent-mindedly, when he suddenly went stiff.

You propped yourself up and looked at him, frowning. “You all right there?”

He was clearly flustered and his ears had turned noticeably pink. “No, no, ‘m fine!”

“Your ears are red,” you noted, amused.

He averted his gaze. “‘S nothing, just…just lie back down.”

You couldn’t stop smiling as you relaxed back onto his shoulder. “So this is all it takes to fluster Liam Gallagher, supposedly Casanova extraordinaire.”

“Oh, shut up, you.” he said, groaning and covering his face.

The warmth of the day slowly gave way to evening, and you reluctantly started the walk back home. You weren’t exactly sure of when it had happened, but at some point, Liam had quietly slipped his fingers into yours. By the time your house came into view, the sun had nearly disappeared.

He paused and checked the time. “Two minutes past eight. Better get back in before we get in trouble, Cinderella.”

Normally you’d have panicked by now, perhaps said a rushed goodbye and ran in. But the happy languor of the afternoon had yet to wear off, and you laughed softly instead. Just then, you heard the sound of a car engine and your smile immediately vanished.

Liam followed your gaze to the car turning the corner at the end of the street.

“That’s your father?”

You nodded quickly. “If he sees us-”

Without thinking, he caught your wrist and pulled you behind a large hedge bordering the neighbouring house. The car rolled past, headlights just missing where the two of you stood, and the front gates closed behind it. You breathed a sigh of relief.

“Would it really be that bad if he saw us?”

You winced. “My father, you probably know he’s very particular about the sort of people he thinks I should spend time with.”

The implications were obvious; Liam wasn’t of that sort. A heavy pause settled in between you.

“I mean, I don’t care about that stuff at all,” you clarified. “It’s not you specifically. That’s just how he is, and nothing ever changes his mind once he’s set it. He’s already planned out my whole future; where I’ll live, what I’ll be…right down to who I talk to.”

Noticing that Liam was still a bit down, you attempted to lighten the mood. “There was this one time he set me up with the most stuck-up guy ever. The whole night, he went on talking about statistics and all his ‘genius’ investments. Never once asked me a question, you know!”

A small smile tugged at his mouth despite himself. “Well. Guess we’ll just have t’be clever about it, then. Might even have to climb up to your window once in a while.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes affectionately. “Looking forward to it. Goodnight, Liam.”

“Night.”

He waited until you'd slipped safely through the garden gate before finally turning to head home himself. You’d run in and tried to sneak off to your room, but not before your father caught you and demanded an explanation, you saying you were just out with friends and swearing up and down that it wouldn’t happen again. Oh well, could’ve been worse- and besides, you figured it was worth getting in trouble for just this once.

***

As you soon found out, it definitely did happen again, and several times at that. Liam waited outside after your classes, and sometimes you’d even beat him to it. You’d been hanging around each others’ schools so much that you’d gotten to know his friends, and he yours. Most times it was his older brother Noel talking to you, who openly wondered at Liam’s ability to “keep a proper girl like you from running away at the sight of his face alone”- which usually ended in a wrestle between the two, you standing to the side and sighing.

Your friends had eventually warmed up to the idea of him being around, and you’d even caught them talking sometimes when you came out late. Though Lila would never admit it to him (“he’s far enough up himself as it is”), she told you once that you’d been a good deal happier since he came along.

On some days, you’d just hang out. Sometimes a football game with his mates, or aimlessly wandering around, but many times you came with him to band practices.

“You’ve spelled ‘definitely’ wrong.”

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes you have, you’ve put two f’s, see?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Official” dates usually consisted of you introducing new things to each other. Liam would show you Manchester how he saw it- in rooftops overlooking the city, Sifters Records, and quiz nights at greasy pubs where you argued over what your team should be named. You took him to your favourite spots too, which mostly consisted of museums, libraries, and many movie nights. One time you’d brought him out to see Dead Poets Society and by the end of the movie, he had started to tear up and was pointedly avoiding your gaze (“Just got summat in my eye ‘s all…).

Weeks passed like that- a couple hours after school turned into full days, weekends, and stolen hours in between.

***

A few days before his birthday, you’d remembered the worn-out trainers he always wore and bought him a new pair, ones you’d seen him admire through shop windows every time you passed by.

You’d told him to meet you at a little park by his school, tucked away from prying eyes. Once he arrived, you smiled and brought out the neatly wrapped box from behind your back. “Happy birthday, Liam.”

He hugged you before unwrapping the gift eagerly, as an excited child on Christmas day. Once he opened the shoebox, he froze. He stared at them for a long moment before saying, “I can’t take these!”

“Liam-”

“I’ve got trainers already,” he said, gesturing to the pair on his feet. You looked pointedly down at them. The soles were practically separating from the fabric, and there were remnants of shoe glue put in unsuccessful attempts to hold them down.

“Besides, they cost a fortune. I’ve seen the prices on them, you know,” he added. He shut the lid and tried to hand them back to you.

You refused to take it. “I can see your socks through your shoes.”

“So? They’re nice socks, got a print on them and all.” He was smiling now, clearly trying to make light of the situation.

You glared at him. “Liam, I know how much you’ve been wanting these! Just take them, will you?”

“But they were so expensive,” he started. “Makes me feel like a bloody Make-A-Wish kid. I don’t want you thinking I’m hanging around you because I want money or summat.”

You softened. “You know I’d never believe that. I mean, look at you now! If you were looking for money, you’d have jumped at the chance.” You picked up the shoebox and firmly handed it back to him “I didn’t buy these because I pity you. I bought them because…well, because it’s you. And it’s your birthday, silly.”

He looked down at the box before glancing back at you, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Because of me, yeah? And this irresistible face, surely?” He scratched the back of his neck. "S’pose it’d be rude to say no, then, since you like me so much.”

At the rate he’d been wearing them after that day, you’d probably need to buy him a new pair next year as well.

***

One weekend, Liam took you to a park overlooking the city after another ordinary afternoon. He had been unusually quiet all day, and now he was sitting in silence beside you fidgeting with a bag in his hands. After a few moments, he cleared his throat and looked at you.

“Can I ask ya something?”

You were about to reply with some sarcastic joke, but you suddenly noticed that he seemed to actually be nervous about this and paused. “Go on.”

He had suddenly become fascinated by the pavement. “Well, we’ve been doing all this for weeks now,” he started, gesturing vaguely between you. “And I know I can’t take ya to fancy places or buy ya all the things you’re used to. Know blokes like that are more what your father wants.”

“Oh, he can have them then,” you said with a laugh. “I’m only interested in one idiot from Burnage.”

“...So,” he started, still unsure of himself. “Would that idiot have any chance of being your boyfriend?”

You pretended to think about it for a moment, but you couldn’t stop the smile coming across your face. “I don’t know,” you started. His face dropped. “You are awfully full of yourself.”

“Come on, this is serious!”

You laughed and slipped your hand into his. “Good thing I happen to like that about you.” You smiled to yourself. “And Lila did make me promise to stop saying no to things.”

He blinked. “Is that a yes, then?” “Yes, Liam.”

His face had split into a wide grin. You were searching for something witty to say when he suddenly leaned forward and closed the gap between you.

He kissed you surprisingly tentative at first, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were letting him. You kissed him back, firm and sure, and whatever nerves he’d been carrying earlier seemed to melt away.

When you got home, you felt a weight in your pocket. Strange- you hadn’t brought anything. It was a small box, and inside was a thin gold bracelet with a note attached to the top that read “Got this for you. Hope ya like it. - LG x”

***

The next afternoon, Liam suddenly told you that he’d arranged for you to meet his mum for dinner that evening. You completely flipped out- you hadn’t had time to prepare a gift, not even pastries or fruits. He laughed in disbelief when you confided your anxieties to him, but let you drag him to a flower shop to buy a bouquet so you at least had something.

When you greeted Liam’s mum, she laughed at your stiff “Mrs. Gallagher” and insisted you call her by her first name, Peggy, instead. After putting your flowers into a vase, she shot an incredulous glance at Liam. “Now how on Earth did you manage such a nice girl?”

“‘S exactly what I said when I first saw her. Thought she must’ve owed him something,” snorted Noel, who was already stuffing his mouth at the table.

Liam glared at Noel and was about to punch him when Peggy swatted at him and he stopped reluctantly. Noel stuck his tongue out at him teasingly.

“Really, the way those two act at their age, I’d wondered at their ever getting a girlfriend! You deserve a medal for putting up with him. He’d never bought any girl flowers before, you know,” she told you. “Not that he ever got many,” she added with a laugh.

He groaned. “Didn’t have to add that, mam.”

As you ate, she asked many questions about how you met him and Noel occasionally interjected with quips (“What I really want to know is how you stand him!”) that were met with clenched fists on Liam’s part. Much to his embarrassment, Peggy showed you numerous childhood photo albums- “there’s Liam in the bath, that’s him after his first tooth fell out…” as he tried in vain to stop her.

Before you left, you noticed Peggy pull him aside for a moment.

“Don’t let that one go,” she whispered.

“I’d be a right idiot to.”

Liam walked you home afterwards, stopping a block before your house to say goodbye.

“Do you think she liked me?”

“Are you havin’ me on? Reckon she liked ya more than me,” he scoffed. “So, when am I meeting yours?” he added, attempting to make the question sound casual.

You’d expected this and he knew the answer as well as you, but it was so hard to tell him it just couldn’t happen when you could see how much he wanted it to.

You sighed. “Well, you know how they are.”

“Yeah, but s’pose they like me!” he said. “Hard to resist my charms.”

“...I’ll try,” you replied with a tight-lipped smile.

It was hard to miss the way his face lit up at that, harder still to imagine how it would fall when you told him some lie about how they couldn’t fit it into their schedule. But worst of all would be seeing Liam’s expression after your father would inevitably take him aside after dinner and tell him he “just wasn’t right for you”, that he’d never be.

The lesser of two evils, you conceded with a sigh.

***

But over the next few days, strange things began to happen. It started off small; one of your parents’ business friends seeing you together. Your driver remarking that you’d been hanging out with your friends a lot lately with a playful smirk as if he were in on something, and your mum taking an increased interest in what you did after school. It was obvious that something was wrong.

It was a Monday. Nearly every day, your parents were off to work early and especially on weekdays- so when you’d gone down for breakfast and saw your father already eating, you nearly dropped what you were holding.

“So who is this Liam Gallagher I’ve been hearing about?” he asked coolly, without looking up from the newspaper he was reading.

Your eyes widened and you stood frozen, your mouth opening and closing uselessly as you struggled to find words to say. “ I–,” you started. “He’s just a friend, really–”

“Invite him to dinner tomorrow,” he interrupted, standing up and brushing crumbs off his suit. Before you could even reply, he had already stood up and began walking out the door.

You immediately started pacing around alone. Liam meeting your parents! The thought alone flooded you with anxiety. You started running through solutions in your mind. For one, you could tell him Liam couldn’t make it tomorrow. That was no use, he’d just reschedule it. You could try and convince him that he was really just a friend, but by the way he’d acted earlier it was obvious he wouldn’t be so easily fooled. That left you with the only possible option: acrually telling him and introducing him to them.

You sighed. At least Liam would be pleased, and you supposed it really was well overdue. They would have found out sooner or later anyway. Well, there was your problem of asking them settled at least…

highflyingcami

it’s like a matter of grasping the concept of empathy that i genuinely don’t think exist among men and i unfortunately have lost all faith that it ever will. i mean, a woman was so violently raped by a man that she had to have her tampon surgically removed and you’re not only comfortable in watching him play his sport but you’re also rooting for him? how does that not rotten your stomach. the paul thing i honestly understand when it comes to them still hanging around him, that’s their brother and i imagine it’s hard cutting ties, especially with their story with their dads and the fact that noel and liam went no contact for so long and leaving paul to be the only sibling they had in some sort. but a man who you have no relationship with? dumb and gross

i’m truly baffled, with my own experience of having a dad that’s OLD im trying to hold onto the fact that maybe he deadass doesn’t know about this, but i also don’t know what’s like in the news/midia in europe, if this story is very known to a point where it’s impossible noel doesn’t know about this. but again, it’s not like he’s known for being a good person sjshdjdnd i avoid saying that because i (neither anyone here or twitter) don’t know him personally. we have many concrete information of him being a dick but also a nice person, but at the end of the day we know nothing about someone’s character, i personally adore noel and think he’s very very talented and overall a cool person and obviously? very sexy? hello. but pretending this didn’t happen is embarrassing !! i’m a fan girl but im a woman and a person with two thinking brain cells, no horniness or admiration in me would put me in a place of defending a dumbass man praising a terrible person

dykwimean

˚.⋆꒰১ FIRSTS ໒꒱⋆.˚

A Pretty Girl Avenue Special! 🎀

SUMMARY: A man his age should really have more experience. Especially a seasoned rockstar whose whole life once revolved around sex, drugs, and rock & roll. But dating a younger woman introduces Liam Gallagher to some firsts that he never would have known without you.

FOREWORD: bello !!! here’s a little something for you guys !!!! surprise !!! i’ve recently just failed a few test drills and i desperately needed to take my mind of it so here comes a little pga special !! the timelines of this jump a lot, and it’s in no chronological order. the only one set at the present is the owala story !! also spot a few cameos 👀

i just rewatched derry girls in 2 days and i literally cannot think about anything else. i NEED more bc i love them sm but at the same time i love how it ended. everyone go watch it rn.

#evasthoughts #derry girls