So imagine if Dick did get like kidnapped by the court of owls when he was a child and Bruce never saves him. (Like that one glimpse into the comic panel except THIS bruce is aware of the original timeline and it kills him and Dick is like actually pure evil and keeps succeeding in where Joker can’t.)
Dick has a habit of bending his ankles out abnormally to perch. He has a habit of batting at himself or punishing when he thinks he’s done something wrong.
And?
He always, always goes for the kill.
Bruce couldn’t have felt more guilt than ever knowing in another universe he saved this kid, some maybe universe alternate shenanigans, he SEES that dick is nightwing or robin and he saved him from this fate.
Instead he currently has the court of owls apprentice who hates his guts and wants him dead, who has pushed him off a cliff before, who would have ran into a street full of fear toxin then face him.
He hates himself for it.
He sees the lovely family he’s supposed to have, keyword supposed to and cringes everytime he sees how bad he messed up in this one.
Imagine if in this timeline he tries to save Jason because he sees him as robin in the other timeline but instead of Joker, Dick is the one to maim and kill him per order of the owls.
Because the bat is the enemy.
Imagine Jason coming back so angry, distraught that Bruce let him die only to have the alternative timeline revealed to him, only to see it’s the original one, only to learn was struggling to decide between hurting one son to save the other.
And damage their relationship forever, or let the other be killed. Jason is both mortified and disgusted at the fact that Dick is a hero in another world and his brother.
He’s ruined two sons.
Then comes along tim.
He’s aware this time, that tim is his son, or should be and yet he refuses Tim, so badly. He ignores him despite knowing young Tim’s fascination.
Yet the gods have a cruel way of laughing at him.
Because the owls finds him fascinating.
A young bird who wants to possess knowledge? from a family of wealth? He’s absolute perfect for an apprenticeship and then Bruce is too late, once again.
The owls have snatched another and Dick, oh so ever protective now has a baby bird in his nest, a Tim Drake who lets himself be fed all the lies and the manipulation.
But he cannot bring himself to kill.
A slight habit they’re working on.
And like clockwork comes along Barbara, she was never meant to be, she was late in this time, he learnt in the original timeline she was batgirl, an inspiration for girls around and women, she was absolutely awe inspiring.
And yet he watches as Dick lunges his sword into her spine and paralyses her forever.
His sorry will never not be enough.
He hesitantly accepts stephanie into his life with open arms, she’s not his daughter and never will be but she sure does act like he’s an old man whose just taken to any stray rat he can find.
She loves the robin.
It gives her freedom.
When she asks “where did Robin even come from? not exactly dark and edgy.” In her own words he can’t find the simplicity to say he stole it from the original Bruce and his son.
To remorse on what could have been him and his son, sure Dick’s parents might have died but he could have saved a boy and made him a wonder.
Yet that never happened here.
And bile fills his mouth as the Joker gets too close, putrid fills his veins and his heart as he watches Tim get close, Timothy drake who couldn’t kill before, shakily plunged a dagger into her heart and she died.
In his arms, the robin suit stained with blood as she made incoherent statements, gestures, trying to comprehend why he was so sorry, why he wasn’t more angry and all he could do was beg for someone to save her.
No doctors could in time, it nicked an artery, she was bleeding and bleeding fast, the shock was worse when she realised her life would end so young.
He’s, terrified.
When Duke comes along.
A boy with the powers of light surely must be a miracle? he must survive? No, not even the slightest, before he can dawn the ‘signal’ suit he plunges from a roof and disappears.
Bruce watches the original timeline with something heavy in his chest feeling cursed, why does that man get to be at least, happier?
No body was found but he has a feeling he’s dead anyway.
Then Damian is born, his son, Talia hands him over when he’s just a baby, her eyes aren’t full of fear but sharing secrets they both know, in both universes he’ll become robin, in one he might die.
So Bruce protects him, he sleeps by his crib at night awaiting the devils to take him.
He bites at his nails and loses sight of himself.
But it’s okay as long as he has his son.
He babyproofs the manor which is NOT easy, god he complains to alfred a million times, he has to strengthen the chains on the chandeliers and get them higher.
(He sees in the original timeline Dick climbing on them, swinging and breaking one and his heart mourns for a little boy who could have been his son)
He puts baby gates everywhere on the stairs and he means everywhere, alfred thought he was overdoing it but he was strict.
Talia comes, once, he pretends not to notice but her eyes are full of remiss wanting to see her son so he pretends to sleep a bit more as she opens a window, slips in and hugs her baby tight.
It’s alright.
They can both tell themselves.
It’s alright.
The owls can watch and bide their time but this time he would succeed in protecting his son, he wouldn’t let him die or be taken away and when he sees the angry face upset at him for opening the door too loud, he finds it all worth the wait.
imagine if you tried to reconnect with your old friend group after 4 years but then one of your old friends died and the other one moved away. which then ultimately lead to the rest of you dying. and you got trapped in your old friend's dreamworld, meet your other friend who died four years ago and then finding out you are going to lose all of your old memories slowly by being stuck here. would that be fucked up or what?
“don't talk with your mouth full, it's bad manners.”
denki kaminari is a yapper.
he can talk for japan.
about nothing, and everything. about his little hobbies and interests, like the time he got really into origami for two weeks and folded fifty paper cranes before getting distracted by baking videos. about a bug he saw one time that kind of looked like pikachu if you squinted. about an anime he watched five years ago that reminded him of a tiktok he saw yesterday—actually, no, it reminded him of two tiktoks, and he’ll pull them both up even though you’re in the middle of eating.
he doesn't even realize he's doing it. he just talks.
before you started dating, he once spent two full hours explaining the entire five nights at freddy’s lore to you. he even brought a whiteboard. he drew a timeline. there were arrows, names, color-coded events. he kept glancing at you nervously, like he was waiting for you to run. you thought he was fucking psychotic, but according to all his friends that was his weak attempt at flirting.
he talks in his sleep too. full conversations. one night, around 3 a.m., he whispered, “gregory… you have to hide.” and you just laid there, staring at the ceiling, wondering what choices in life had led you here. he was completely out. you even poked him and he just mumbled something about “security breach.”
you didn't sleep much that night. he did.
you hear him on the phone all the time. he’s loud. his voice carries. you don’t even need to be in the same room to catch half the story. in group calls, he’s that guy—never letting anyone finish a sentence, always jumping back in because he just remembered another detail, or because he needs to relate something someone said to a completely different topic.
he narrates everything he does. it’s like living with a one-man podcast. making a sandwich? you’re getting a full tutorial with sound effects. brushing his teeth? he gives ratings to the toothpaste flavor like he’s doing a mukbang. finding a sock under the bed? live drama, complete with shocked gasps and a full backstory on how the sock ended up there.
he doesn't mean to talk so much, honestly, he can't help himself. he just… gets excited. he thinks out loud. he loves sharing things. his brain moves fast, and his mouth just tries to keep up.
"s-so sorry baby, your pussy just tastes so—mmf."
so sometimes you have to shut him up. the only way you know how.
his long eyelashes flutter against flushed cheeks, those bambi eyes of his wide and glassy as he looks up at you from between your thighs.
his fingers gripping the fat of your thighs as he drags your pussy back down onto his mouth. tongue greedy, he mouths at you like you're divine. slow, wet, sloppy kisses, tongue flicking then flattening, dipping in and out like he’s tasting something sacred. he hums against you, needy and messy and so, so fucking eager.
but as he pauses to catch his breath, you realise, he's still running his mouth.
with eyes locked onto the sticky mess he's made, his mouth is still moving, lips slick and parted as he mumbles god knows what into your pussy. eyes fixed on the mess he's made, like he's hypnotized. and the worst part? you can feel it. the vibrations, the breathy whispers, the praise he's spilling straight into your cunt.
you strain to make out the words, and between the rush of blood in your ears you catch bits and pieces. "t-thank youuu, so fu-ucking good for me, you’re perfect, so warm, so wet, love you, love you, love yo—"
you roll your eyes and cut his praises short with a forceful tug of his hair. not too hard. just enough. it makes him whine into you, the sound all breath and heat, and you feel his hips twitch against the mattress. he loves it when you take control. he melts for it.
"denki, sweetie, what have i told you?" you sigh contently when his tongue starts doing circles on your clit, "no talking while you're eating."
he doesn’t answer with words—he knows better. just moans, all obedient and desperate, nodding his head so fast his blonde locs shake. sweat glistens on his forehead, some strands of hair sticking to it. you brush them away gently, and his amber eyes snap up to meet yours.
they're wide. glassy. brimming with devotion.
he's docile, pliable. he listens, does what he's told.
and for now, he's quiet.
but you'll keep him here until he's learnt his lesson.
authors note: hi there, this is part one of my first fic ever so pls be nice lol. also, english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry for any errors. since it’s my first post, feel free to send some feedback so i know what i should do better next time :) enjoy!
summary: you visit your best friend mack, but notice someone else on ice. it's not that serious though, right?
warnings: willmack timeline is inaccurate to the real one, not by mistake, just felt like fucking it up a bit lol
wc: 1,8k
“No, you don’t get it! It happens every other week!” - I said to Alex, trying to figure out how to take a shower.
Another pipe broke down in the dorm building. Just like it did last week. And three weeks ago. Living in a dorm had it’s pros and cons. Well… maybe mostly cons…
“You can always rent an apartment, you know? I know it’s expensive, but you work, you earn pretty decent money, you can afford it.” - she said, trying to cheer me up. She basically lives in my room, only driving back home for the night. - “Actually, I could use a move too… My parents are pissing me off pretty bad lately” - she added, staring at her freshly done nails.
I met Alexandra when we both just started uni. She sat next to me in general statistics class - the only class we have together basically. We immediately got close and started spending more time together than apart. She lives with her parents still to save some money, but I can tell it’s starting to take a toll on her.
“Imagine us living together. I don’t think I’d ever be sad again”
I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket. I’ve been stressing about the bathroom situation for so long that I forgot that my friend Mack was supposed to call me. Earlier that day he texted me, saying that I have to fly over to Boston next week, not giving the reason why.
Mack was my childhood best friend. Growing up in the same neighbourhood in North Vancouver, being the same age and obviously having a lot of love for hockey. Moving out for uni, across the country from each other has been tough. Mack getting into Boston University and me getting into Berkeley University wasn’t an ideal situation in terms of location, but we managed to keep in touch. He hasn’t met Alex yet, he knows who she is though. And Alex? She thinks about Macklin a lot, she doesn’t admit it, but I know her a bit too well.
I picked up the phone, preparing for the worst. Knowing him, the reason for the sudden travel could be literally anything.
“Bro, you gotta fly over. You have to watch me absolutely kill those BC idiots” - Mack said, full of energy. Him being a Boston University student meant being the biggest Boston College hater. Games between them have always been a big thing, not only for him, but for the whole community.
“I don’t know Mack, I have school and work and-”
“We’re definitely gonna be there Mack! Don’t you worry about it at all, we’re gonna figure it out I’m sure” - Alex cut me off, yelling into the phone. I gave her a glare, knowing I have a huge computational statistics exam in two weeks that I really should start studying for.
“I’ll think about it. You know I’d love to see you play again, but I have responsibilities you know…”
“Don’t give me the “I’m an adult and I need to do adult things” excuse. We both know you’re gonna get your shit done the night before, and you’re gonna panic that you’re about to have a heart attack from all the red bulls you drink” - Mack said smugly. We all knew he was right, and I was stupid for trying to make excuses.
I wanted to see him play, I was just scared of all the people being there. Mostly the fact that I don't know them.
We talked for a bit longer, giving Mack some of the local gossip, catching him up on the people we don’t like. He told us about the practices, the team and his teammates. Even though he and Alex have never seen each other, talking together like that feels so natural.
After ending the call Alex packed her stuff and headed home, leaving me on my own in my dorm. We ended up agreeing to the Boston trip next week. I texted my project partner Naomi that I won’t be able to make it to class next week as I head into the bathrooms, praying that the problem has been fixed. My phone vibrated in my hand, a text from Mack.
i bumped into this absolute donkey smith while in the city, just seeing his face pisses me off
remind me again please, you can’t stand him because…?
you hate so many people for no reason, why can’t i???
goodnight macklin
Later, next week we’re on our way to Boston.
Standing, waiting for our suitcases Alex kept on talking about Mack. My ears were about to fall off. I’m glad she’s interested in someone (knowing that Mack might have a thing for her too), but I was already overstimulated from the 6 hour flight and she wasn't making the situation any better.
“And if someone bodychecks him, I’m getting on the ice and sorting things out!” - she said, full of energy.
“You know that fighting is part of the game right? They’re supposed to do that. Also, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t let you onto the ice you know…” - I explained, staring at the floor, hoping she’ll get the hint that I’m exhausted.
It’s 8 am, the game starts at 6 pm so we had a lot of time to ourselves. Dreaming about a nap, we walked out of the airport and headed to the hotel. After checking in, I took a shower and went to bed, while Alex, being the sporty freak she is, went out for a run.
Later that day, we were getting ready for the game. I put on Macklin’s jersey, trying my best to show him support. I remember him giving me that jersey after his first win. I tried to tame my hair, as it’s not really cooperating today, while Alex was straightening her own. I can tell she’s giving her 100 to her look today, hoping to impress my friend, which is cute.
We had a quick meet up with Mack before the game, wishing him good luck as he gives us the tickets. I could see his eyes linger on Alex for a moment. They are so oblivious it’s starting to piss me off. For some reason I was more stressed than usual, this is the first time I’m seeing him play against BC and I know it’s a big deal for him.
During the game I felt eyes burning literal holes in my head. I was pretty sure it’s just Mack looking up at us for support, but while searching for him during the second period I caught the eyes that were actually staring at me this whole time. Looking down at his jersey I realized it’s the guy Mack kept complaining about, Will Smith. I was not too sure but I assumed he saw that I was wearing Macklin’s jersey, probably making a mental note to put me on his bad side. Why am I assuming the worst? Maybe he’s not even the one who’s actually staring? Maybe now I look like a creep looking at him like that?
“Mack’s playing really well today, don’t you think?” - Alex said to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. She’s really excited and doesn’t seem to notice my concerns, maybe for the better.
“Yeah, I’m really proud of him. At this rate we’re going into a tie and then winning with no overtime needed. You know how overtime stresses me out.”
The game ended with Boston University winning and I could tell Mack was over the moon. We walked out of the arena, to wait for him which actually took a while, but he promised us a lift to the hotel.
“We should go out! Celebrate! Party!” - Alex yelled in excitement, literally jumping in her spot.
“I’m down but maybe we should ask the champ fir-” - I said, but get cut off by someone bumping their shoulder into mine. - “Maybe watch where you’re going asshole” - I spat out, irritated.
“Wouldn’t expect such language from such a pretty girl, but I guess the jersey should speak for itself” - he snapped back at me. I realized it’s Will. He stopped by my side, his teammates walking away from him. He bores into my eyes for a moment, and I’m the first one to break eye contact.
“We don’t talk to losers” - I heard Alex saying from behind me, closing my eyes, feeling embarrassment wash over me. God, why would she say that?
“Fair enough, have a nice evening.” - he said, still looking at me. I saw him walking away in the corner of my eye, but I didn't look at him fully, still embarrassed from Alex’s comment. I stared at him while he got into his car with his mates. Why did he have to bump into me?
“Aw! There you are” - Alex snapped me back into reality, announcing Mack’s presence, not mentioning the situation with Smith. - “You in a mood for a night out?”
“Yeah sure, but I’m not the driver when we go out” - he said looking at me.
“Fine, whatever, I’ll drive. But if anyone pisses off at the party we’re leaving, no questions asked” - I said, rolling my eyes at them both. - “Wait, so you offered us a ride but I’m the one driving?!” - I’m only met with giggles from my best friends.
We got into the car, Mack teased me about sitting close to the steering wheel. God forbid I want to be a responsible driver. Alex sat up front, while Mack was in the back with two of his teammates. We chatted about the game back and forth, while heading to some house party organized by someone from Mack’s year. The boys started complaining about the BC team for a little bit and I decided to mention the weird interaction with Smith outside the rink. I saw Mack’s face twist into irritation in the rear view mirror.
“It was odd, like he surely has better things to do than chirping his opponent's friend, right?” - I addd, looking into the mirror waiting for Macklin’s reaction.
“He should stay in his lane, fucking dickhead. Don’t worry about it, he probably just can’t stand the fact that he lost, which honestly he shouldn’t be surprised by” - he said, and I could hear his ego dripping in his words. He’s never like this, unless you mentioned someone who he played against regularly. - “Ever since the ref gave them that one win last year, I cannot stand his ass.”
“That’s fair enough, but we should focus on today’s success shouldn’t we?” - Alex asked as I park the car, ready to head to the party.
Hiiiiii, I wanted to ask if you know any fics that have stiles travel back in time to stop Derek and Kate happening?. It doesn’t have to be time travel I just really want to read a fic where stiles stops Kate and Derek from happening and stiles and Derek having a happy ever after with their families 🥺🥺🩵
Hi! Sorry for taking so long to reply
No Day But Today by fauvistfly
“If you don't change it successfully, you'll be doomed to repeat it,” Deaton says, his face impassive despite the seriousness of his words.
“Repeat the day?” Stiles parrots, trying to wrap his head around what they’re attempting to do, the ridiculousness of his life and how it now involves time travel.
--
in which things in Beacon Hills are so bad that Deaton sends Stiles back in time to stop Kate from manipulating Derek and causing the death of the Hale family. The catch: Stiles only has 24 hours to change the course of the future, or he’ll be stuck repeating that same day until he gets it right. What will be enough to keep Derek away from Kate?
One Step Forward by InuVampireChan
They tell you when you jump through time, to not change history. That doing so can cause things to change for the worst. So what's the answer to that when the future can't possibly be changed to be made worse?
You have to outsmart the universe itself.
Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy
Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.
Coming Home for the Last Time by In_Over_My_Head
Raelle shoved him backwards, forcing him onto the Nemeton, “If you’re going, you have to go now! Just hang on and I'll get you there.”
Stiles watched as his pack fought for their lives around him, watched as they barely hung on, “Are you sure we can’t do this, that we can’t win? Are you sure sending me is the right thing?”
“It has to be you but if we’re doing this you have to go now! If you don’t do it now, it’ll be too late!”
“Fuck! Fine, but how do I get him to trust me? I’ve known him for a year here and he barely tolerates me!”
“It’ll be fine, I promise, just tell them the truth! Maybe he’ll actually tell you in that timeline.”
“What does...” Stiles started, flinching as Raelle clapped in his face throwing her arms wide and screaming in a language he didn’t understand. Adrenaline coursed through him watching as a deep green light surrounded the Nemeton, making everything glow eerily.
“You got this!” She screamed through the fading light. He watched her spin, throwing out her hands to knock back the minotaur that charged her.
But how do I get back?
Misfire by mothlights, unpossible
“The debt must be repaid,” she says, and it has the weight of a vow. The words resonate through him, ringing through his ribcage and the bones of his jaw, and Stiles loses his breath and maybe his grip on reality because she draws herself upright and where there had once stood a supermodel-level MILF now there is Galadriel’s much hotter older sister, a Presence of unmistakable power in their ordinary, smells-vaguely-of-Thai-takeout hallway.
“Oh shit,” Stiles says.
Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill
"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them."
-----
The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.
Misguided Ghosts by nemonight
Stiles was hoping that his summer before his senior year would be uneventful but no the supernatural hierarchies can't leave Beacon Hills alone, can they? Stiles gets lead into the woods by a ghost wolf but what's the most a ghost can do, a lot apparently because here he is, 18-year-old Stiles, in the friggin past. What's the first rule of time travel? Don't change the past. Stiles never was one to follow the rules.
Holding On Too Tight by Green, ohfeelya
(AU branching off from S2) A darker and desperately broken Stiles attempts to find a way to save them all.
Final Resort by undercoverbastard
Another thing with time travel. It wasn’t a science, as mentioned. But it was a force, a means to react in the best and most probable way it knew. Just like Stiles’ magic wrapped around him and would react to situations before he even knew they were happening. Just like Derek and Scott would unknowingly understand an entire room before they even stepped in, their senses reaching out to assess without them even acknowledging the process. It was instinctual.
So where Stiles threw himself? He had no clue. He could be in the 1400s in the middle of Antarctica for all he knew. Wherever time threw him it was what made the most sense, the way in which to best preserve itself and the balance of the universe.
+.+.+
Or: The one where everyone's already dead and gone and Stiles has run out of options. So what's the next course of action? Time Travel, of course! Jumping back in time blindly, trying to fix anything and everything he can, and hopefully wake up to a better future. None of it comes with a manual, though.
Not Quite According to Plan by Phlinting
It's been eleven years since Scott was bitten by a feral werewolf and, despite his pack's many victories along the way, Gerard Argent's influence lives on. As the knowledge of the supernatural spread to the general population so did the hatred and fear of the unknown. The McCall pack has been picked off one by one and Stiles, Sheriff Stilinski, and Peter Hale are the only three left, on the run and barely surviving.
But Stiles has found a spell. He has the magic, the spark, and his belief. He has his dad and Peter to help power it and he has the will and desperation to succeed.
He's going back to the Hale fire and this time he's going to stop it ALL before it starts.
It's the perfect solution. Too bad things never go quite according to plan...
Ashes and Echoes by CalypsoMC
Stiles knelt in the clearing, his fingers trembling as he pressed them against the blackened bark of the Nemeton. The sacred tree had withered under the weight of Beacon Hills’ tragedies, its power drained, its magic dying.
And Stiles? He was the last one left.
———
or when all Stiles’ pack members died including Derek, Scott, Melissa and his dad, and resulting to him offering his magic, his life to the Nemeton to do something, to change something. Which ends up with him being thrown into the past, before all the tragedies, before the Hale fire.
Oasis in 1996: a timeline of the biggest year of their career
1996. What a fucking year. A year that Oasis clearly became the biggest band in Britain. It was the biggest year of their lives, it was also possibly the most fractious. Britpop's last hurrah before its descent and rot into Cool Britannia, the nationalism, and the last gasp of the old guard: the last time independent music and media in music would be able to reach so many people. (Why? The last era before mp3s, many say, but that's a discussion about Standing On The Shoulder Of Giants and a chat for another time). Before their contemporaries faded away, before the Oasis bad-boy charm and hypnotic spell faded, as the facade began to crack and the Gallaghers invincibility was about to be shattered. The last time everything Noel Gallagher touched turned to gold. (You know why I'm convinced? “Drugs like a cup of tea” scandal was literally in January 1997. Perhaps the first time Noel's rock n’ roll fables had consequences for him in ways that none of the out-of-pocket things he’d said so far had ever had. Blur released ‘Beetlebum’ the same month, Damon’s confessional about how the drugs weren’t working anymore. Which incidentally, is what Richard Ashcroft would say too in his hit single that September). The beginning of the end.
The Spice Girls would release their first single ‘Wannabe’ and album in 1996. “Just when boys with guitars threaten to rule pop life [...]an all-girl, in-yer-face pop group have arrived with enough sass to burst that rockist bubble,” wrote the editor of Music Week. He was right. By their 1997 second album Spice World, Spice Girls absolutely dominated popular music, and not just in Britain.
You think Blur and Oasis were battling it out to break into the American market? Spice Girls’ debut album Spice was the highest-selling album in the US in 1997. Back home in the UK, all the sheen of Britpop and the pride in having built scene with a local identity was quickly wearing off, being co-opted by overly nationalistic gestures and losing all credibility. Not even a full year on from Maine Road, where Noel Gallagher played his Union Jack guitar, at the 1997 BRIT Awards, Geri Halliwell would wear the now-famous Gucci Union Jack minidress. At the last minute, she also added a peace symbol onto the back of her dress to avoid association with the British National Front, the extremist far-right nationalist party. Which tells you as much about where the notion of Cool Britannia was at. The next month was Vanity Fair's equally eye-catching cover story: London Swings Again! accompanied by a full-size Union Jack bedspread covering Liam and Patsy. If oversaturation doesn't kill meaning, I don't know what does.
By the time New Labour had ridden on the back of Cool Britannia hype all the way into 10 Downing Street, most of Britpop turned down new Prime Minister Tony Blair's invites to the Downing Street reception party. Liam declined the invite. Damon Albarn reacted sharply against it: “I’m sorry, I won’t be attending, as I am now a Communist. Enjoy the schmooze, comrade!” Jarvis Cocker wrote ‘Cocaine Socialism’. Suede distanced themselves—harshly. On the 1996 Sex Pistols reunion tour as a support slot, Skunk Anansie—led by Skin, a Black, gay British woman—were being yelled at by neo-nazi ‘fans’ of the Pistols to no intervention from the band, and they sure as hell had no good words to say about Britpop and the revival of the worst of the 70s. Let it all burn, they all said. Only Noel attended. The last hurrah.
Those were the last few years before the music press began to die (Melody Maker went out of print in 2000. I come with valid arguments to hand). The final years before the music business’ battle with piracy (A&M Records—with a vested interest from other major record labels—sued Napster in 1999). It was the final decade of music television, before MTV and the like began cutting back programming and focusing on reality TV. The death of the radio. The last decade before streaming emerged (Spotify for example, was launched in 2008). The last time the music industry had money at the mid-level, and the last party before the industry collapsed.
There may have been signs in 1996. But it was certainly Oasis’ last hurrah.
For Oasis, 1996 was a year of personal highlights and crushing (b)lows. Lows. Fights. Cocaine arrests.
1995 had been a wild ascent for Oasis. Thanks to accusations of hooliganism, bold and brash declarations of being the best band in the world and fights breaking out, more often within the band and amongst its two most recognisable figureheads, the Gallagher brothers, the press was paying more attention to a band of newcomers—rock musicians, about 20 years after rock had last been a relevant force in pop culture—than they ever had before.
Oasis were an independent band. Signed to Creation Records, an indie whose previous biggest successes were cult following indie and shoegaze bands like Primal Scream and My Bloody Valentine. You have to understand: these bands were music industry famous. These bands would make the front cover of the NME. They were music newsworthy. But for whatever reason, the idea of these rough, unapologetic northern lads—in particular, the unrestrained tongues of the Gallaghers, who spoke their mind, weren't afraid to slag off fellow bands and gave some great, if outrageous quotes, captured the hearts of the nation beyond the columns of independent print magazines, and the actual news press and worse, tabloids realised something crucial: Gallagher news sells.
From here on, the tabloids and news were a permanent thorn in the side of Oasis, and I cannot stress how highly unusual that is, and always has been for musicians in the UK*. [Side note on mainstream British tabloid press culture and how Oasis were its first musical victims has become its own separate article-length post. Read here.]
1995 was a year of highs and lows for Oasis. They played two sold out nights at Earl's Court in 1995 (at the time a 20,000 capacity exhibition centre, now 3000), their biggest shows ever. They had a ton of cancelled shows throughout that year because of various reasons: illnesses, throat infections, injuries, Noel or Liam walking off stage (particularly in America), Guigsy having a nervous breakdown, Guigs' replacement quitting the band, and partly a support slot they pulled out of to record Morning Glory.
In the aftermath of the Battle of Britpop (Aug 1995), the press went crazy. Oasis and Blur were suddenly on primetime news television, and the result for both bands (as they have later admitted) was immense success and record sales. When (What's The Story) Morning Glory? came out that October, it sold nearly 350,000 copies in the first week alone in the UK. It is to date the 5th highest-selling British album of all time. Oasis were the band of the moment. The Gallaghers are the gold dust: people are so eager to have a piece of Oasis, the bootleg interview single Wibbling Rivalry reaches #52 in the UK singles chart on 25 November 1995. Morning Glory will go on to stay in the (top 100 albums) charts for the next 143 weeks, and was in the UK top 40 albums chart until March 1997. There isn't a bigger band in the country.
Here’s a timeline of 1996, as relevant to Oasis:
8 January 1996 - Noel begins the year by quipping that his aim for the year is to get a stalker. By 1997, he could happily report that he had not one, but three.
20 January 1996 - Though 1995 may have ended with Alan McGee gifting Noel a Rolls Royce at the Creation Christmas party, girlfriend Meg Matthews reveals in an interview after the band's show in Newcastle that she and Noel still live quite modestly - in a 2 bedroom basement flat in Camden. Interviewer also mentions that Noel's acoustic set contains a few songs “from the third album” (these possibly include ‘Half The World Away’, which was being played around the time).
21/22 January 1996 - At 2 AM, a thoroughly drunk Liam reveals to the same interviewer that he threatened to quit the band because Noel wouldn't go to the pub with him earlier in the day. “I've been up for leaving for the last couple of months. I reckon that it's coming to the end, right, for me.” This seems like a routine and empty threat. He also claims, “I reckon I can write better music, a lot better, about 100 times better, than what our kid can. But having said that, I can't do it now because I ain't got no time. I'm too busy getting off my head and being the Oasis singer. I'm not saying I'm not happy. I'm totally happy. But there is life after Oasis for me.”
23 January 1996 - Oasis “disappoint” at the NME BRAT Awards: “our kid, we only won 4, they ripped us off!” (Oasis sweep the NME Awards. Awards were often done by reader vote. NME said they should've renamed it the ‘Oasis Awards’ that year.)
7 February 1996 - The notoriety and fame have been growing, and ambitiously, Oasis announced their dream show: Maine Road, their beloved Manchester City FC's stadium, a homecoming show for Oasis, 39,000 tickets.
An announcement is first made on BBC Radio 1's Breakfast Show on 7 February, on 8 Feb the Oasis website announces the date of Sunday, 28 April. Tickets go on sale on Friday, 9 February. Thousands queue up outside the City stadium for tickets. It sells out in hours. The following week, a second night is announced for Saturday, 27 April. It also sells out.
19 February 1996 - The 1996 BRIT Awards are an eventful spectacle. Oasis refuse to perform at the BRIT Awards ceremony, instead wanting to perform “outside, for the people in the street”. Noel Gallagher says the band were apparently told this might threaten their career. Well.
Pulp perform ‘Sorted For E's and Wizz’, Jarvis Cocker waggles his bum at Michael Jackson and gets detained until the morning hours, when comedian Bob Mortimer, formerly a solicitor, is able to secure Jarvis' release. The next morning, Jarvis gets a taste of what being in the mainstream press is like. The organisers condemn Jarvis' actions. Noel later calls Jarvis a star and said he should be awarded an MBE for it.
Despite the biggest headlines being on Pulp and Oasis not performing, they still manage to steal the spotlight. The battle of Britpop plays out once again at the BRITs: both Blur and Oasis have been nominated against each other in several categories. Oasis sweep up the awards, winning British Album of the Year, Video of the Year (‘Wonderwall’) and British Group of the Year. Liam incidentally, also waggles his bum loads. The infamous Shitelife singalong takes place when Oasis clinch Best British Group. Oh, and Noel slags off record industry execs, Annie Lennox and also manages to take a swipe at Michael Hutchince of INXS as he presents them with the Best British Video award, saying, “has-beens shouldn't give awards to gonna-bes.” On INXS's last album Elegantly Wasted that comes out the following year, the title track is rumoured to contain the lyric, “I am better than Oasis”. At the same award, Liam has a spat with Hutchence, as Patsy had been in the press with him before, and also has a go at Michael's current girlfriend, presenter Paula Yates. He threatens to punch Michael, who kisses him instead. Full page feature in the next week's music papers (and tabloids).
Noel does, however, find a moment to thank leader of New Labour Tony Blair in his speech. “There are seven people in this room tonight who are giving a little bit of hope to young people in this country. That is me, our kid, Bonehead, Guigsy, Alan White, Alan McGee and Tony Blair, and if you don't got anything about you, you get up there and you take Tony Blair's hand, man, he's the man. Power to the people!”
In the February 1996 edition of Q Magazine, Noel expresses remorse and apologises for his 1995 AIDS comment aimed at Damon and Alex from Blur. “I said what I said, and as soon as I said it, I was (head in hands). I apologised in the next breath to the interviewer.
Weeks later when I saw it I put the paper down and I said to Meg, ‘I think I've blown it’. She read it and went, ‘You idiot!’ The first person on the phone was me mam saying, ‘I didn't raise you to say things like that!’
My whole world came crashing in on me then. If it wasn't for our kid, I don't know what I'd have done (mimes arm round shoulder, quiet word) . ‘It's all right, you just said something daft.’ This is my little brother, who I look after, putting his arm round me, saying, ‘It'll be all right, man.’ But I don't think people will ever forgive me for it.”
In the same interview, Noel also reveals that the band are thick friends: “If the shit hits the fan and all this stops tomorrow, I'm Bonehead's daughter's godfather, right, and I'm Liam Gallagher's brother, and I'm Paul McGuigan's best friend, and I'm Alan White's best friend. We are a family. Whatever I've got, they can have.”
Despite Oasis' clear victory at the BRITs that week, Blur and Oasis weren't at each other's throats. Top Of The Pops' Roc Blaxill revealed what the atmosphere was like when both bands had gone on the show together that month, for a programme that went to air on 22 February:
“One of the finest recent performances on the show was Blur’s ‘Stereotypes’, just before Oasis went onstage for their two numbers. For the whole song Liam was dancing along in the crowd, he was really enjoying himself. Afterwards in the bar, he and Damon were chatting away merrily, they certainly weren’t going at each others’ throats. Both bands seemed to get on very well.”
As revealed to Martin Roach for the book Damon Albarn: Blur, Gorillaz & Other Fables, from this post: https://www.tumblr.com/cosmic-ridge/779862437233115136/
Oasis performed their cover of ‘Cum On Feel The Noize’ and ‘Don't Look Back In Anger’. Blur performed ‘Stereotypes’.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=KHm4_8-WR30
22 February 1996 - Noel fills in for Gary Crowley on Greater London Radio (now BBC Radio London) for 2 hours, Gallagher Radio London is born. He interviews 3 guests on the show: Digsy from Liverpool indie band Smaller, the guy that inspired the song title ‘Digsy's Dinner’, his idol Paul Weller and Robbie Williams. Digsy, Paul and Noel each separately perform acoustically live on air. Noel interviews Robbie about recently leaving Take That and going solo, and about allegedly sneaking around toilets with Liam Gallagher.
On a side note, when popular boyband Take That announce their split earlier that month, fans across the nation were so distraught that eventually, a phone helpline had to be set up for them. [https://www.bbc.com/videos/c722qz14p65o]
Feb-April 1996 - Band play gigs in North America and the UK, that mostly go without a hitch. Some dates in America cancelled because Noel is ill. (dates linked at end of this page)
7 March 1996 - Oasis confirm rumours in Scotland during an AOL webchat they’ll be playing at Loch Lomond, but dates aren’t finalised.
Question: The papers here in Scotland say you're maybe going to play at Loch Lomond. Any truth in this?
OasisCS: yes, don't know when... [https://oasisinterviews.blogspot.com/1996/03/noel-liam-gallagher-bonehead-aol.html]
22 March 1996 - Oasis play a first night at Point Depot in Dublin. After the show, Noel Gallagher goes straight to RTÉ to make an appearance on the Late Late Show with Gay Byrne for an interview. He also performs an acoustic version of Wonderwall and Live Forever. [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5R94Dp-RZR4]
23 March 1996 - Oasis play a second night at Point Depot. They are staying at the Weston Hotel, where News Of The World is paying for their estranged father to spend the night, hoping for a reconciliation news story. When Noel spots his dad in the hotel lobby, he quietly asks security and tour manager Maggie to remove him from the hotel. Noel returns to his room. Their dad Tommy writes a letter explaining why he was there, which gets handed to a furious Liam, who immediately storms in asking them to leave.
Later that night at 2 AM, commotion breaks out, the band confronting Tommy. Tommy insulting Liam and Liam in turn threatening to break both his legs and the journalist's who brought him there. Noel looks on.
Tommy is removed from the hotel, journalist in tears and News Of The World and the tabloids got a different news story to the one they came for: 6 months later, their mother would publicly reveal that she left their father as he was physically abusive to her, Noel and their older brother Paul. Noel and Liam have spoken in anger about how that night brought back unpleasant memories from their past. The journalist apologised in 2025.
In happier news, here is Noel photographed with his mam and aunties backstage at The Point after the gig.
Photographer Jill Furmanovsky elaborated in her book Was There Then, “All the band members are very fond of their families. This picture of Noel with his mother Peg and his aunties was taken backstage at The Point and you can tell how delighted he is.”
5 April 1996 - Noel is a guest on Chris Evans' TFI Friday. It is in this interview that he reflects on the BRITs, praises Jarvis Cocker and reveals he has already written ‘My Big Mouth’ and ‘I Hope I Think I Know’, a few others were in the process of being written.
10 April 1996 - Oasis walk offstage and cut a gig short in Vancouver after 6 songs because the crowd were throwing coins at them. The rowdy behaviour was following Oasis abroad.
It is sometime around this period (20-something April) that Noel meets Burt Bacharach for the first time at a hotel bar in Santa Monica. The same night, Bacharach asks Noel to come and sing with him in London later that summer.
27, 28 April 1996 - Oasis play two sold out nights at Maine Road, to nearly 80,000 people. It is their biggest show to date, double the size of Earl's Court the previous year, and it is their homecoming show, not just to Manchester, but also the fact that it is their team City's home ground, making it even more special to them. When the band return to Manchester, Liam stays the night in his childhood bedroom in his mam's house, eschewing a hotel (and then some). Children's entertainer Norman Tissel performs for the band backstage (not a joke!)
The demand for last-minute tickets is so high, it turns to threats of ransom, which Liam addresses on stage with his usual bravado, dedicating Supersonic to “them so-called kidnappers, who want to take me away in a van for about three weeks and hold me ransom... you're taking your time, brothers.” Even still, Noel and Liam's girlfriends are given extra security.
After Maine Road, the band didn't want to just play conventional stadiums. They wanted to play unusual venues to keep things interesting for themselves, wanted to bring the Oasis music to other parts of the country. Noel later reveals that 1996 being a fallow year for Glastonbury was a factor in booking Knebworth, and that the band went to the Knebworth site closer the time of the show, looked around and laughed in disbelief that they were able to sell out the vast countryside.
2 May 1996 - Oasis on the cover of Rolling Stone USA, and the article is not flattering. Part of the feature was recorded during the tour a few months ago. Noel and Liam are pictured on the front cover, they turned up for the photoshoot giving the magazine an hour to do pictures. Half an hour in, the photographer and interviewer tell them these photoshoots usually take 8 hours (Select mag interview, 11 Aug 96). Oasis are not pleased and absolutely aren’t staying 8 hours. Their reluctance to play the game continues to baffle America.
7 May 1996 - The UK fortunately, is far more enthusiastic. A Knebworth date is announced and tickets go on sale. Such a large show being announced less than 3 months before the actual gigs is insanely short-notice (even though gigs in the 90s were typically announced with a few months to go, there was nothing of the size of Knebworth before). The panic to get tickets amongst fans is hysterical. Over 2 million people sign up to access tickets, over 4% of the country's population at the time. A second date is then added. That too sells out fast. Knebworth had last hosted rock bands like Led Zeppelin and Queen in the 1970s. Never before had they sold these many tickets though. And none of them had ever done two nights back to back. With this in mind, Oasis' two nights at Knebworth, thoroughly sold out, were (are) quite possibly the largest British shows in history. That's when they know this was going to be big.
11 May 1996 - Remembering their last outdoor Scottish shows were at Irvine Beach, Oasis decide to go back to Scotland before Knebworth. Loch Lomond gigs go on sale. These shows are meant to be ‘warm ups’ for Knebworth, but are themselves 80,000 tickets over 2 nights - a total of 340,000 tickets sold amongst the 4 shows. The pressure is on.
12 May 1996 - Liam Gallagher and Damon Albarn are amongst other musicians like Pulp's Jarvis Cocker, Robbie Williams and Tricky from Massive Attack taking part in a game of charity football match Soccer Six. Fans and press alike are watching for the rivalry between Liam and Damon to spill out onto the pitch in a repeat of last year's infamous Battle of Britpop. Liam's side lose 2-0.
13 May 1996 - Band attend the Cannes premiere of Trainspotting, which Noel foolishly turned down the chance to score because he thought it was a film about watching trains. He has good words for it. Him and girlfriend Meg phone into Chris Evans' BBC Big Breakfast show hungover to talk about it the next morning.
It is also in mid-May 1996 that Noel takes a month-long holiday in the lavish, exclusive Caribbean island of Mustique with his girlfriend Meg Matthews and her friends before the tour kicks off. Here he writes, records and arranges many of the demos that will become Be Here Now with producer Owen Morris. This is the first time since the pre-Definitely Maybe days that Noel has tracked demos, where he demoed a handful of songs like ‘Live Forever’, he says.
23 June 1996 - A reunited Sex Pistols play Finsbury Park as part of their Filthy Lucre Reunion tour. Longtime fan Liam, who styled his vocal snarl, his glare and early stance on John Lydon, is in attendance with girlfriend Patsy Kensit.
28 June 1996 - Noel performs ‘This Guy's In Love With You’ with a musical hero of his, Burt Bacharach at the Royal Festival Hall. A Burt Bacharach poster features on the cover of Definitely Maybe. Noel admits later that he pinched the chords to ‘Half The World Away’ from that song. Oasis (or at least Liam and Guigs) and Patsy Kensit are in the audience: “Liam and Patsy thought it was astounding. They were up on their feet at the end, cheering. Liam was really proud. It seriously was stunning. Noel's voice was truly amazing. He was chuffed, completely.”
4 July 1996 - Noel and Meg attend the premiere of Mission: Impossible, received by fans screaming as loudly for Noel as they did for actors like George Clooney. Noel is asked about his thoughts on the film while mic testing before an interview with MTV at Loch Lomond the next month. Noel says he didn't really get the film.
Early July 1996 - Liam proposes to girlfriend Patsy Kensit in secret. Patsy Kensit's autobiography suggests the date may be around the week of 6 July.
18 July 1996 - rehearsals for Knebworth begin at the Birmingham NEC. Whole band is present. Noel and Liam rehearse together with their hero John Squire of Stone Roses. [Liam makes no mention of his engagement. When Noel is asked about Liam and Patsy later, he replies cluelessly, “I think they’re a boy and a girl.”]
22 July 1996 - The Charlatans keyboardist Rob Collins is killled in a car crash just down the road from where the band are recording Tellin' Stories at Rockfield Studios. The Charlatans, fellow Mancunian(ish; Tim's from Cheshire) Madchester band and good friends of Oasis, are supposed to be one of the bands supporting Oasis that summer. The Charlatans pull out of Loch Lomond, consider pulling out of Knebworth, possibly even splitting up, but their music friends are very supportive. Martin Duffy, keyboardist in Primal Scream steps in as a temporary replacement. Oasis are very supportive of the Charlatans playing the Knebworth shows. They dedicate ‘Cast No Shadow’ to Rob at Loch Lomond. At the next NME BRAT Awards in January 1997, Noel dedicates one of Oasis' wins to Rob Collins and criticises the editor of the NME for not commemorating his death.
1 August 1996 - Liam and Patsy's engagement news is made public via the press. Noel hadn't known until then. Noel is furious that he had to find out through the press, through the media spectacle surrounding it, which as we've established, puts a harsh and often unwanted spotlight on the band. It's not a case of ‘all publicity is good publicity’ here, because Oasis have just sold out Knebworth! What do they need the extra press circus for? At this point, it would just detract from their actual musical achievements, and this tabloid news threatened to overshadow the most important summer of their careers. (“Yeah, Patsy and Liam got engaged... I was like, ‘What for?’” Liam then suggests Noel get engaged too for a laugh, which Noel later does... vindictively planning his wedding to be the same week as Liam's in 1997. Liam has a meltdown when he learns about it—through the press—and trashes the studio they were recording in.)
Noel is not a fan of letting anything get in the way of the music - he's been mad about the press attention on hooliganism hijacking talk about their music in the past (‘Wibbling Rivalry’ - “playing music is rock n roll, not being a football hooligan”). I also got the feeling as time went on that Liam and Patsy's posing together/PDA for fashion magazines got on Noel's nerves in the same way that Wembley 2000 (Liam's incessant rants about his divorce) drove Noel up the wall, and Liam promoting Pretty Green clothing at 2009 Oasis shows also got Noel's thorough disapproval.
Anyway. Noel also feels betrayed that 1. Liam got engaged 2. Liam got engaged in secret and didn't tell him, his brother 3. All the rest of Liam's family knew. His mam and other brother knew. The rest of the band knew. 3. He went to their sworn enemy the TABLOIDS and told THEM and not Noel. Also, Noel had some sort of Beatleseque fear running through his mind: would Patsy be the proverbial Yoko that splits Oasis up? (No.) Would Liam quit the band to spend time with Patsy? (No.) Would Liam go solo? Is this the end of Oasis? (In some ways, it was the first crack, the beginning of an end that somehow lasted way longer than anyone would've expected; most people thought they'd wind down by 2000 or latest 2002, but somehow they hung on. Debate for another time. Reflecting in 2002, Liam said his marriage to Patsy ‘destroyed’ his relationship with Noel.)
So they fought. They traded blows in private, and they were still fuming at each other during soundcheck before the first Loch Lomond show.
3 August 1996 - Night 1 at Loch Lomond. During soundcheck, there is an accident involving one of the band's road crew and a forklift that results in the roadie's death. Noel has just watched a man working for him die in an accident, and he was the only one that saw it because he was early for soundcheck. He has only weeks before had the sad news of Rob Collins' death. Noel gets questioned by the police and is clearly shaken up and a bit traumatised having to relive it. It also puts Noel's life into a bit of perspective, on how short life is and how we only get one chance at life – a motto Noel has been heard repeating many years later. (“The gig wasn't that important after that”)
After their fights, Noel and Liam have not been speaking. Liam has been hanging out sidestage with Patsy and they've been super loved up and making out in a corner (with Liam “waggling his engagement ring about”, says Select Mag).
In the afternoon, the band does interviews pre-show for MTV. Liam, Bonehead and Guigs interview together, Noel goes separately.
Noel brings up Liam's engagement within 1 second of the interview beginning. (uncut clip of Noel's interview) Interviewer Toby Amies then asks Noel about the engagement. Noel is clearly upset at having to learn about it from the tabloids, it is a tense interview. Later, Liam is asked about his new engagement ring. He immediately gets up and walks out; interview's over. The only thing he does say about it as he's walking off: “It's big, and it's mine.”
3 August 1996, night - the first Loch Lomond show at Balloch Park. The band come onstage to their usual instrumental ‘Swamp Song’. Liam comes on stage and they play the first proper song, ‘Columbia’. Vibes are good allround. It appears Noel might be willing to forgive Liam for everything that's happened that week. Liam goes up and sits on a PA and just takes in the crowd. Shortly after, Noel walks up behind him and does one of his little victory poses, arms outstretched. Crowd goes wild for it.
NME: “Then Noel strides on. He stretches his arms wide, drinks in the acclaim, then walks over to his brother who’s crouched on the lip of the stage. Noel leans over, kisses him and the band kick into “Acquiesce”. It’s quite conceivably the best beginning to a gig in the history of pop.”
The infamous Loch Lomond kiss. Afterwards, both brothers choose that picture as one of their 10 favourite photos for the NME to illustrate their 10-year career in 2002. From amongst "thousands" of parkas, Liam will later wear the same black Gucci duffel coat from night 1 for the first time in years at the premiere of the Supersonic documentary in 2016.
On 10 and 11 August, Oasis cement their place in British, rock, music, cultural and pop culture history by playing two glorious nights at Knebworth. Noel sums it up perfectly when he says onstage right as the band walk on on night 2: “This is history. This is history! Right here, right now. This is history!” And Liam, lightening the moment as ever, quips, “I thought this was Knebworth!” Light and shade, Liam and Noel. Same as it ever was. This is Oasis. But Noel is absolutely right.
Support acts include artists like The Charlatans, bouncing back from the loss of Rob Collins, with Martin Duffy on keys, Black Grape, Shaun Ryder's new band, and Chemical Brothers. At some point around Knebworth, they ask Noel to work together on a track, after hearing Noel wanted them to produce something with him.
11 August 1996 - In a phone-in interview on Jo Whiley's Radio 1 show on the day of the second night at Knebworth, Noel reveals that Liam played the first night of Knebworth sober (which doesn't speak to the drugs however) and then got plastered and stayed out until 9 AM the next morning. Apparently, Liam had forgotten the was a second show at all. It turns out he hasn't packed enough clothes and doesn't have stage clothes for night 2. He borrows fiancée Patsy's cable-knit jumper, and the Liam Gallagher Knebworth night 2 look becomes one of the most iconic images in rock music.
250,000 people over two nights. Everything goes perfectly. Their hero, John Squire from the Stone Roses joins them on guitar for ‘Champagne Supernova’. Oasis have truly conquered the heights of rock music legend.
The 2016 documentary Supersonic stops at Knebworth. It is a hagiography— meant to show only the best bits. And that's because that's it for the best times.
In the Jo Whiley interview, Noel also reveals that Liam had asked him to be the best man at his wedding. Liam would go on to have his wedding the next year in secret - no Noel.
Noel would reflect on Knebworth in 1997 and say it was the last time the band felt exciting for him. With Knebworth, he's achieved everything he wanted to achieve. Where do you go from Knebworth?
Where indeed. It all went south from there. Oasis were supposed to record an acoustic set for MTV Unplugged only 10 days after Knebworth. Liam went on a bender and showed up to the first rehearsal for Unplugged with a rough throat. He stopped midway through and said he couldn't carry on for his throat's sake, and then walked out. The second day, he sang only three songs. Noel sang the rest. Slowly as the days progressed, Liam turned up less and less, sometimes even wearing the previous day's shirt meaning he hadn't been to bed the previous night.
23 August 1996 - On the infamous night of the MTV Unplugged performance at Royal Festival Hall, Liam turned up late, looking like shit, and minutes before they were meant to go on stage, just went, “I'm not doing it.” Noel was furious. He stepped in to sing lead vocals for the first time for a full set (previously it was only ‘Don't Look Back In Anger’). Liam sat on the balcony with Patsy, watching the show and even heckling at one point. He felt some regret later and went to ask Noel if he could sing some songs during the encore. Noel told him to fuck off. In 2022, Liam says he regrets it every single day, saying he was sick in the head for doing that.
25 August 1996 - The Gallaghers’ dad Tommy goes to prison for a month for breaking a drink driving ban. In the midst of press around it, he gives an interview saying questionable, creepy shit about Liam that doesn’t warrant dignifying with a reprint. When asked, eldest brother Paul said, “I don't know what he's done and frankly I don't care. None of us will be going to see him. It's about time he got caught – it might do him good.”
Tommy Gallagher surmises the lyric ‘Where were you while we were getting high’ might be about him and says he’s writing a book.
[https://www.thefreelibrary.com/MY+OASIS+BOYS+SAID+THEY%27D+BREAK+MY+LEGS.-a061164623]
Following the summer UK shows was the North American tour: an unmitigated disaster. First Liam didn't turn up with the band for the first shows in Chicago (27 Aug), walking out at the last minute claiming he didn't have anywhere to live and had to stay back to go house hunting with Patsy. Reportedly, this was after him and Noel had been having a row. Liam rejoins the band on 30 August in the US.
On 4 September 1996, Oasis performed at the MTV VMAs. Liam spilling a beer, spitting onstage and slagging off the American record industry horrified the American press. Another disaster. Another squandered chance. Now, I personally don't think this was Liam's fault, and he has defended himself later saying he had something stuck in his throat, as the singer, what option did he have but to spit? Anyway.
Oasis are on a disastrous tour of North America with Manic Street Preachers and the American band Screaming Trees. Oasis and Manics still have a healthy love for each other, and years later in 2014, Noel and Nicky Wire did an XFM talk together where Nicky revealed they thought Oasis were very rock n roll. Noel admired Manics' fierce politics. It was also true however, that Noel was in the midst of some of the worst weeks of his life with Oasis at the time.
Screaming Trees were a whole separate kind of fury. Mark Lanegan was a scary guy at the best of times. He could outdrink anyone. He was also dealing with a drinking problem. And Liam got on his nerves.
Mark remembered meeting Liam in his memoirs in 2020, and he described him as a ‘bothersome mosquito’. He had threatened to fight Liam. Liam had disappeared and scampered away.
Once, Mark, enraged, told Noel, I'm gonna kill your brother. Could well be a serious threat with the state Lanegan was in. Noel responded, ‘Let me inform me mam real quick— he's by the catering, btw.’
Liam responded to Mark's memoir quote on twitter in 2020 saying Mark was an uptight junkie, and Lanegan renewed his offer to fight Liam.
What was Mark so angry about? Liam had called them the ‘Howling Branches’ in his tweet.
12 September 1996 - Noel and Liam have “a particularly nasty fight”, and Noel quits the tour with 5 US dates to go and comes back home to London, leaving the rest of the band to finish the tour without him. The band cancels “all concerts for the forseeable future” and return home, though they say they are not splitting up. The US tour is over, and future dates in Europe, Australia and New Zealand are also cancelled.
13 September 1996 - When the rest of the band return to the UK, at Heathrow airport, Liam is escorted by bodyguards into a car, isn't told where he's going and is driven to a secluded countryhouse (‘he lives in a house, very big hou—’ this is not the time!!!). His car even stops by a cemetery. Liam is sure he is going to be killed then. In fact, it turns out Noel has simply ordered him kidnapped and shipped off to this countryhouse in full secrecy, where Noel is. Noel and Liam spend a holiday together and make up, all while rumours that the band may split are going crazy at the airport. Oasis finally put out a press statement saying that the band are not splitting up, and Noel and Liam are getting on well.
Looking back on this period a year later in the September 1997 edition of Q Magazine, Noel stated the reason for the split was him being a “moody cunt” and apologised for standing up all the American kids that were waiting eagerly to see Oasis on this tour.
“"I did [stand them up], but I did it for... no... I was just about to say, ‘I was doing it for the sake of the band’. I wasn't at all, I was doing it to be a fuckin' moody cunt and I apologise for that.”
[https://web.archive.org/web/20010616073406fw_/http://www.oa515.com/feature016b.htm from https://www.tumblr.com/ostensiblynone/796128566768189440]
20 September 1996 - Writer Emma Forest details Liam’s loneliness in the lead up to the American tour The Independent - the ‘spacey, dreamy’ boy is cheating on his new fiancée, Patsy. And listening to Abbey Road a lot.
[https://www.tumblr.com/thisishistoreh/811490240398245888 aka the ‘Liam is growing wings’ article’]
21 September 1996 - Liam's 24th birthday.
30 September 1996 - ‘Setting Sun’, Noel's collaborative track produced by Chemical Brothers is released. It goes straight to #1 on the UK singles chart on the strength of the Oasis cowrite, but daytime radio finds it hard to play. Chris Evans had hyped up the single leading up to its release, but was so alarmed on hearing it the first time he played it (on air) that he pulled it off air and wondered if he'd made a mistake and apologised to their listeners. Noel was very proud of that fact.
‘Setting Sun’ was one of the songs to emerge from the original ‘Lock All The Doors’, demoed years ago in 1992, another being ‘My Sister Lover’, a song Noel demoed at Mustique that summer and that ended up as a B-side on Be Here Now.
‘Setting Sun’ was recorded very quickly. Ed Simons says, “he phoned us up and said, ‘Oh, I'll come down now and do it.’ We said, ‘Hold on a bit,’ and sent him a tape of this track, ‘Mark One’, which we thought might appeal because it had that Beatle-y feel to it. It took us quite some time to do ‘Mark One’, but ‘Setting Sun’ itself was a day in the studio with him, then us mixing for a while, and it was in the can.”
The song would go on to be included on the Dig Your Own Hole album. The following year, Simon Le Bon called it one of the best songs he'd heard in the 90s.
After this, Oasis decide to cut their losses on touring and get started on recording their third album. In hindsight, many will hotly debate whether the band would've benefited from taking a short break instead, and the band were asked about it in interviews. Liam was vehemently against taking a break. Noel might just have benefited from it. But I also have the feeling that if Oasis had taken a break, we probably wouldn't have had another album from them until the 2000s. I think it's even possible that Oasis would've gone on indefinite hiatus. Noel was saying in interviews the next year that the band had stopped being fun for him after Knebworth.
3 October 1996 - Paul Gallagher publishes his book about the brothers' childhood, Brothers: From Childhood to Oasis: The Real Story. Noel was not happy with Paul revealing details of his abuse at the hands of his father to the public. He reflected in Uncut magazine in March 2000:
“I didn't read [Brothers: From Childhood to Oasis], to be honest with you. I had it out with [my brother Paul] before he was putting the book out; I said, ‘For the life of me I can't understand why you're doing this, because that's private family business.’
I mean, the other two [Liam and Paul] never really got beat up off me dad at all; it was mainly me, because I was a bit of a lippy twat. So I said, ‘If you're doing it for the money, hang on, I'll give you the money not to do it.’ And then I thought, 'What the fuck am I doing that for? If he wants to do it, let him fucking do it.’
I don't really think our private lives should be put on the bookshelves in Waterstones. You get a lot of people coming up to you and sort of patronising you about it – you know, ‘Oh, it must have been terrible.’
And it's like, yes, it was, but it was no more terrible than any other person's upbringing.”
Paul Gallagher later revealed that he was not invited to/skipped Knebworth by choice to focus on finishing his book and so had not seen his brothers' greatest moment live.
7 October 1996 - recording sessions for Be Here Now begin. The first sessions are recorded at Abbey Road Studios, a special place for Noel and Liam given its significance to the Beatles. Unfortunately, this means little when you're shitfaced.
8 November 1996 - Oasis show up at the 1996 Q Awards and win Best Act In The World Today. The brothers are getting on: “[B]oth brothers - despite spurious tabloid speculation about demanding “separate tables” - happily circulated among the 350-plus invited guests, posing for snaps, giving autographs and supping complimentary beer.”
9 November 1996 - Liam Gallagher arrested and cautioned for cocaine possession at the Q Awards the morning after. A visibly shaken Liam returns to recordings with the band, band photographer Jill Furmanovsky says in her book Was There Then that Noel had softened a bit towards Liam during this time – and Noel went to Liam's house the following day (10 Nov) to meet and comfort him.
The tabloid gaze on Oasis around this time becomes insane, especially as the band are in the centre of London and very accessible (this example is actually from the day before the US tour was to start in Chicago, but fuck Jeremy Vine...). Liam is in the papers near daily, his mood is terrible, fights with Noel are routine enough to become unnotable - the next year, Noel would blame the intense press focus on Liam on Patsy: Liam “shouldn't have married a star”. Tabloids raid Jill Furmanovsky's flat, thinking the band were hiding in there.
The band and Creation start to get paranoid around this time about details of the album or music leaking. Remember, reporters would literally stand outside the windows of the studio with microphones. They did this during the June 2025 rehearsals in Cardiff.
Oasis begin to freeze out their inner circle to cut out any moles, shrinking it down until according to Creation's Johnny Hopkins, the people who had been there from the start were cut out and they were mostly surrounded by industry folks. Paranoia begins setting in. It's not a fun time for the band.
Oasis get kicked out of Abbey Road studios for being rowdy (listening to Beatles albums so loud that they damaged the speakers— no wonder both Noel and Liam have tinnitus) and “partying too much”. Mary McCartney notes in a later interview that it is really hard to get kicked out of Abbey Road. They are seasoned professionals, they've dealt with worse. Oasis were banned until 2007, when they returned to record Dig Out Your Soul. They were asked to pay cash upfront for the 2008 recording sessions.
11 November 1996 - Oasis decide to move down to Ridge Farm Studios in rural Surrey instead, away from the city and the cameras. Owen Morris calls the Abbey Road sessions ‘fucking awful’. He thinks the Mustique demos were near-perfect and that the band should've got Liam and Bonehead to overdub the demos, or at least use those recordings as a mixing reference (would I be true to this blog if I didn't talk about The Oasis Mixing Problem?) Noel overrides Owen's suggestion. Him and Noel eventually fall out, and Owen does not return for Oasis' next album in 2000. Both come to regret the mixing (and other creative decisions regarding this album) in hindsight, but do not work again except on remastering the first 3 albums some 20 years later.
Noel takes a second holiday to Mustique at an unspecified time later in the recording for Be Here Now (potentially in early 1997 even), during which time Liam records vocals without Noel. Noel is not present for any of Liam's vocal recordings. Liam feels guilty about recording when Noel isn't there even though getting ahead on recording is his literal job, and is sure Noel will be angry that Liam recorded without him, so he tries to soften his stance by calling him at 4 in the morning and telling him that he's been shot. Noel says in a later interview that he doesn't like it when Liam records when he's not there.
12 November 1996 - Liam and Patsy pose for Vanity Fair's Cool Britannia cover story, titled London Swings! Again! at Glasshouse Studios in Shoreditch, London. The story spans the broader cultural rennaissance in London, joining the dots between its musicians, artists (Damien Hirst), fashion designers (Stella McCartney, Alexander McQueen) actors and even politicians. The first sign that this movement built on a sense of belonging to a community was morphing into something bigger, and something it didn't set out to be, but whose making was inevitable.
The cover stars Liam and Patsy sprawled on a giant Union Jack bedspread and would feature in the March 1997 edition of the magazine (linked above). The Spice Girls get a full page too. Just as the high of Britpop begins to wear through, the rot of oversaturation and Cool Britannia is beginning to set in. A change in guard is on the horizon once again.
20 November 1996 - Liam and Patsy attend Vanity Fair's River Café party, where Liam is pictured partying with Mick Jagger.
On 14 December 1996, in a new interview with conservative paper the Spectator, the Spice Girls declare that “Margaret Thatcher was the first Spice Girl”. Britpop is well and truly dead. Long live Britpop.
22 November - 27 December: MTV Europe presents a 6-part documentary series called Oasis: Mad For It! Episode 4 includes first footage of early Oasis Boardwalk rehearsals and from the King Wah Wah Tut's gig in Glasgow that got the band signed.
In the meanwhile, recording somehow goes on until Christmas break/the end of 1996. Noel's one last public appearance of the year is him hosting an hour on BBC Radio 1 with Goldie on 30 December, and that was 1996. What a fucking year.
summary: you and scott finally overcome the hurdles standing in the way of your relationship
warnings: SMUT 18+, fluff, swearing, brief hurt/comfort (sorry if i missed any!)
word count: 7.3k
a/n: i did not proofread the smut so i apologize if it's bad lmao but scott and sunny have finally gotten their happy ending! turns out writing fluff is much harder for me than i anticipated but i love love love them
divider credits to @pixopix!!
part 1 part 2 part 3
It’s been a week since the crash.
It took five days to fix the truck–less time than you were expecting–and you were all on the road early yesterday morning.
Now you’re back in Oklahoma–and since the unusually active tornado season is coming to an end–very happily back in your own apartment for the first time in months.
Living out of motels is only fun for about two days.
The Wranglers, you’ve learned, don’t have a timeline to return to Arkansas–something you’d guess has to do with Tyler and Kate’s relationship–so what better way to celebrate surviving a crash than to invite them all out with your team?
“Are you sure the county fair is a good idea?” Scott asks from your bathroom doorway, arms crossed as he leans against it. “You’ve been out of the hospital for less than a week.”
“It’s not like I’m doing anything crazy,” you assure him, straightening your shirt. “And I haven’t had a headache in three days. It was, like, barely a concussion.”
He glares at you, but there’s no real irritation behind it. “Still a concussion.”
“Well, I feel great. And we haven’t seen them in weeks!”
“How awful,” he deadpans under his breath with a small smirk.
You smack him with your good arm. “Hey!”
He laughs. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Unfortunately, they’re not horrible people.”
You pout. “You’re the worst.”
“So I’ve been told.”
You hum. “Can you help with these?”
You hold out a pair of stud earrings, lifting your right arm in its sling to signal why you can’t yourself.
He takes them and gently threads each one through a piercing before fixing the backs on them.
You can’t help but stare with how close he is, eyes locking onto the freckles that litter his nose.
How the fuck did you get so lucky?
When he goes to pull away, you pucker your lips and raise your eyebrows expectantly.
He rolls his eyes playfully but leans down and pecks your lips.
“Okay, we need to go,” he says, straightening up.
“Wait!” You spin in a circle. “Does the sling ruin the vibe of my outfit?”
He blinks at you once.
Twice.
“What?”
“The vibe,” You sigh, like he should just understand. “Does the sling ruin it?”
“You look fine, if that’s what you’re asking,” he says, head tilted, eyebrows drawn together.
You narrow your eyes at him. “Fine?”
His face twists further in confusion. “Yes?”
“Fine?” You repeat incredulously.
He frowns. “Why are you saying it like that?”
“Because fine means mediocre at best. Do I look mediocre at best?” You ask, good hand on your popped hip.
He looks genuinely bewildered, shaking his head. “What? No. You look good!”
You stare at him for a long moment.
“You are helpless.”
His face instantly morphs from confusion to offense. “Hey!”
“Hey!” You mock with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go.” You shut the bathroom light off behind you.
“Evil, evil woman,” Scott mumbles as he follows you.
- - - -
Unsurprisingly, you’re the last to arrive.
As you approach the large group waiting around in the parking lot, everyone’s attention snaps to you both.
“Sunny!” Boone booms, nearly tackling you in a bone-crushing hug, though still cautious of your shoulder. “You look beautiful for someone who was just in a car crash.”
“Hear that?” You ask Scott, tilting your head up to look at him. “I’m beautiful.”
“Uh oh,” Kate whispers. “He must’ve fucked up.”
“Watch it, man,” Scott warns Boone, pointedly ignoring Kate’s comment. “That’s my girlfriend.”
“Um, no I am not,” you say, shaking your head.
Everyone freezes around you.
Scott stares down at you, brows drawn together. “Uh… what?”
You raise your eyebrows. “You haven’t asked me yet.”
“I thought confessing my love would mean I didn’t have to ask!”
Multiple loud gasps.
“You said you love her?!” Lily asks with a squeal.
“He said he loves you?!” Javi asks at the same time, sounding deeply offended he’s just finding out.
“Did you say it back?” Dani asks you, leaning closer.
“I did,” you confirm with a single sharp nod, earning another squeal from Lily.
“You still gotta ask, man,” Tyler tells him, clapping a hand on his shoulder briefly.
“What the hell?” Scott asks, hands upturned in front of him. “Uh, okay. Will you be my girlfriend?”
You blink.
“No.”
Some people choke, some snort, someone–Boone, you’d guess–gasps dramatically behind you.
“What? Why not?” Scott asks, a hint of desperation in his tone.
You tilt your head. “First off–you asked like it was being tortured out of you. Second–that doesn’t count. Everybody’s watching.”
“I didn’t know that mattered,” he mutters.
“Dude.” Dani laughs.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” You ask him, only half-kidding.
“Yes, I’ve had girlfriends before!”
You wrinkle your nose. “I don’t wanna know that.”
“You’re impossible,” he says, exasperated.
Dexter shakes his head, chuckling softly. “Making it worse,” he warns.
“I asked Kate, privately, after a fancy dinner,” Tyler says, shrugging.
You gesture toward him, eyebrows raised. “See? A little basic, but.”
You ignore Tyler’s offended tsk, but can’t stop the amused smile that slips through when you watch Kate pat his arm comfortingly.
Scott rolls his eyes. “Jesus,” he exhales. “Okay, I will ask you in a more private location.”
“Sounding like you mean it,” you add.
“Sounding like I mean it,” he sighs.
“Maybe with flowers,” Lily adds helpfully.
You turn toward her. “Ooh, I love flowers.”
She nods at Scott. “With flowers.” More certain this time.
“Can you all stop meddling in my love life? I knew there was a reason I didn’t like you guys,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat in his tone.
The others laugh loudly. Still, you elbow him. “Apologize.”
He huffs. “Sorry.”
You nod once, sharply, before Boone ushers you all toward the ticket booth, muttering something about Scott being whipped.
You miss the sickeningly fond look in Scott’s eyes as he follows you.
- - - -
“What are we doing?” You ask once again.
After the fair, Scott told you he had ‘the perfect date’ planned, but refused to give you any details. All you got was that you had less than 24 hours to mentally prepare and you immediately protested.
Surprises are stressful, okay?
“Stop asking, I’m not telling you,” he says, almost bored, from where he’s laying next to you in your bed.
It’s only 10 am.
Your plans aren’t until 8 pm.
You prop yourself up on your good elbow, glaring down at him with your most intimidating stare.
It doesn’t work.
No amount of begging throughout the day works.
You even resort to bribery.
Nothing.
The asshole doesn’t even look tempted to spill.
Finally, 7 pm rolls around and suddenly you realize you don’t even know what to dress for.
“I can’t pick out an outfit if you don’t tell me what we’re doing,” you try, glaring at him.
He just shrugs!
“Something casual.”
You want to explode him with your mind.
“So jeans?”
He shrugs again.
“Sure.”
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘sure?’” You ask incredulously.
He looks taken aback by your reaction. “I just mean you can wear jeans if you want!”
You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “What are you wearing?”
“Literally just jeans and a t-shirt. Good lord,” he exhales.
You nod, finally getting something. “Thank you. Will I need the sling?”
“You should be wearing it no matter what,” he chastises.
You wave him off. “Is it physical enough that I’ll need it?”
He sighs, knowing he won’t win that argument. “No.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Bring a sweater–just in case,” he calls after you as you go to your room to dig through your closet.
“So it’s outside?” You ask, running back into the living room with a wide smile.
He just stares for a moment before shooing you back toward your bedroom. “Go get ready.”
You groan loudly, but go back to rummaging through your closet anyway, calling over your shoulder that he isn’t allowed to look at you until you’re dressed.
30 minutes and many outfit changes, later, you’re happy with what you’ve chosen. Your cutest pair of jeans, a plain t-shirt in your favorite color, and a light hoodie to bring with.
It feels basic–maybe too basic–but he didn’t really give you much to work with. Not to mention, he’s seen you drenched to the bone with rain and covered in mud and still wants to date you, so… this will have to work.
When you leave your bedroom he’s just stepping out of the bathroom, changed into the aforementioned jeans and t-shirt.
What he failed to mention was that he chose his sluttiest black t-shirt. The one that hugs his biceps and makes you drool.
The one he knows is your favorite.
“Oh, you are not playing fair,” you pout.
He chuckles lowly. “It’s just a t-shirt,” he says, but based on the grin on his face, he knows exactly what he’s doing.
“Mm, I didn’t even mention the shirt. You did that intentionally,” you argue, pointing at him.
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
You finish getting ready, hopping on one foot as you shove on your shoes. As you turn toward where he stands at the door, you watch in slow motion as he grabs his hat off the hook on the wall and puts it on.
Backwards.
Again.
You don’t even have to say anything.
He catches you staring, flashing a smug smirk before opening the door, gesturing for you to go first.
- - - -
Scott lets you control the music, listens to all of your rambling about… everything.
You glance at his truck’s clock at one point and whip your head toward him when you notice he’s been driving for an hour. “Dude. Where are we going?”
He grimaces. “Don’t call me dude.”
You roll your eyes. “Okay. Where are we going, bro?”
He turns to glare at you briefly before focusing back on the road. “I will turn around.”
You groan dramatically, looking out the window. You’re well out of the city now, surrounded by open fields. “Are you gonna, like, kill me?”
“Yup,” he deadpans. “Risked the company’s funding, planned the perfect date, and wore your favorite outfit just to kill you.”
You sigh deeply, shaking your head. “Knew it. Never trust a man.”
Another 15 minutes pass with you singing along to your music before he finally pulls off down a dirt road.
You sit up straight, trying to get a glimpse of your surroundings, but the only light is coming from the headlights. “Okay, seriously, where are we?”
“You will find out in, like, two seconds. Relax.”
You stay silent, but can’t help but bounce your leg and lean forward in your seat as he keeps driving down the dark road.
Finally, the truck slows to a stop in front of a barn that looks like it hasn’t been used in years–headlights illuminating peeling paint and dust-covered windows.
You glance between the windshield and his face for a few moments before chuckling nervously. “You were joking about killing me, right?”
He laughs–actually laughs–at that. “Oh, my god, yes, I was joking about killing you.” He unbuckles and turns to face you, shoulders tensed ever so slightly. “My grandparents used to own this land–Riggs got it when they died but we never use it. Obviously,” he adds, gesturing toward the rundown building.
You look out at the barn again, then at your surroundings–nothing but overgrown fields.
Then you turn back to him, feeling your stomach flip in a way that has nothing to do with the potential of becoming a murder victim now.
“Why…” You pause, chewing your lip, trying to figure out a way to ask ‘why are we here?’ without it sounding rude.
Thankfully, he beats you to it.
“The, uh, meteor shower is supposed to peak tonight,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
Your eyes widen.
You mentioned it half-asleep in some motel weeks ago after seeing a post online–just saying you thought it would be cool if you could catch it.
You were pretty sure he was going through the data from the chase you’d just gotten done with at the time–he barely even acknowledged the comment.
“Are you about to cry?” He asks, suddenly looking extremely concerned.
“What?” You ask, then realize there’s most definitely tears collecting along your waterline. You sniffle and quickly wipe your eyes. “No, that would be stupid.”
He cracks a small smile at that and you can see the cockiness returning.
“Told you it was perfect.”
“Shut up,” you grumble half-heartedly, pushing open your door and stepping into the cool night air.
He meets you at your side of the truck and finds you staring at the barn.
“What?” He asks, tilting his head to look down at you.
“Did you come here as a kid?”
He nods, humming in confirmation, looking back at the building. “I liked to play with the farming equipment–tractors, combines, things like that–so my grandpa would bring me sometimes.”
“Did they live close by?”
“Uh, a few acres over, yeah. We don’t own the house anymore, though.”
You hum, grabbing onto his hand and leaning into his side. You try to imagine a younger Scott around the barn, climbing on the machinery, running through the fields.
The image makes your heart twist painfully.
“I’m glad you can still come back here,” you say softly, looking up at him with your cheek pressed against his arm.
He looks down at you again with a soft smile and even softer eyes. “Me too.” He presses a quick kiss to your lips before straightening back up, instructing you to stay put.
He rounds the truck and opens the back door behind the driver’s seat. He takes a couple of trips to the bed, telling you not to look when you keep trying to steal glances.
You spend the next few minutes taking in your surroundings better now that you’re outside. The sounds of him clambering around in the truck are easy to drown out when you focus on the way the wind rustles the overgrown fields.
Finally, you hear dirt crunching behind you and turn to see him standing there, holding out a hand. You grab it, letting him lead you to the open tailgate.
He’s lined the bed with blankets and pillows, and in the middle sits a cooler and a few plastic bags full of snacks.
“I couldn’t get flowers, since we’ve been at your place, but I will tomorrow. That way you can pick them out, too,” he says quietly, watching you blink rapidly at the truck.
Then, you turn…
And shove him.
“Hey!” He laughs, barely moving at your push.
“You’re gonna make me cry, asshole!” You say, sniffling as tears prick the back of your eyes again.
He just chuckles again and wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into a tight hug.
Your fake anger fades quickly as you wrap your arms around his middle, melting into him.
He presses a quick kiss to the top of your head before releasing you.
“Okay, come on.” He hops up onto the tailgate, making it groan softly under his weight, before holding a hand down to help pull you up.
Once you’re both seated, he opens the cooler and dumps out the plastic bags, revealing all of your favorite snacks and drinks–including energy drinks despite the time.
But your focus isn’t on the snacks right now.
You gently push him to sit back against the pillows and he raises his eyebrows, but you just sit between his legs, your back to his chest.
Immediately, his arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as you both look up at the sky and your breath catches.
You’ve never seen the stars like this–surrounded by complete darkness, no distant light pollution.
It’s unreal.
Minutes stretch by as you both sit in silence, captivated by the sheer brightness of the twinkling stars above.
The only sounds are your soft breathing and the slight rustle of the field in the calm wind.
Eventually, you mutter, “You still haven’t asked.”
You feel the rumble of his chest more than you hear his low chuckle. “I’m getting there.”
You just hum, still mesmerized by the sky, when a meteor streaks across the sky.
You gasp, louder than you mean to, and slap at his arm.
“Did you see that?” You hiss, trying to twist to face him.
“I saw,” he confirms, tightening his hold slightly so you can’t turn. “Keep watching,” he whispers against your ear, causing you to shiver.
When multiple meteors suddenly cut through the darkness at once, you can’t even find it in you to argue–just stare, mouth open.
“Will you be my girlfriend?” He asks quietly from behind you, head resting against yours.
You manage to tilt your head enough to look at him. “You were waiting until it started?”
He just nods.
“You romantic motherfucker.”
He chokes, unable to stop the laugh that jostles you both. “Oh, my god, please just answer the question.”
“Obviously I’ll be your girlfriend, Scott,” you exhale, twisting further to press a kiss to his lips.
One of your hands rests on his chest, the other on his thigh as he kisses you back eagerly, bringing his hands up to cup your face.
“I love you,” you breathe out against his lips.
He tightens his grip, kissing you again. “I love you, too.” Another kiss.
You both pull back, foreheads resting together for a moment before you turn to face forward again. You scoot down a little, leaning your head back on his shoulder as you spend the rest of the meteor shower in comfortable silence.
- - - -
Scott parks the truck in the driveway of his house at 1:04 a.m.
You should be exhausted–you are–but you’re also really fucking in love with the asshole to your left.
So once you’re laying in bed–with him in nothing but his boxers and you in one of his shirts and a pair of panties–you don’t close your eyes right away.
He’s laying on his back with you sprawled halfway over him–one hand on his chest, a leg thrown over his–as he scrolls through his phone.
You wait until he sets it down on the nightstand, then lean forward to press a light kiss to his neck.
He tenses slightly, but doesn’t move away.
“Sweetheart,” he whispers in a warning, but tilts his head to give you better access anyway.
“Hm?” You kiss lower, slowly making your way to his shoulder.
He swallows roughly. “It’s late.”
You just hum, acknowledging that he’s right, but don’t stop.
Slowly, he brings a hand to your hip, gripping tightly as his chest rises more noticeably beneath you.
“Hey,” he breathes, squeezing your hip. You pull back and blink up at him, worried you might’ve misread the situation. But his pupils are blown wide and his cheeks are flushed as he murmurs, “Let me,” before carefully shifting so he’s not under you anymore.
Your throat goes dry as you nod, letting him maneuver you.
He rolls you onto your back and hovers over you, immediately leaning down to press his lips to yours.
This one is more insistent than earlier–not demanding, but purposeful. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Because he does.
This isn’t your first time having sex, but it is your first time as an official couple.
Something about that makes it feel different.
Better.
The kiss turns hotter–a practiced dance of teeth and tongues that never fails to make you melt.
One of his hands runs up and down your side, toying with the hem of your–his–shirt. The other keeps himself propped up next to your head, making sure he doesn’t crush you.
You don’t think you’d mind if he did, though.
You bring your arms around his neck, running your fingers through the messy curls at the back of his head, trying to keep him right where you want him.
Unfortunately, air is still a necessity. But you barely have time to inhale before his lips are on the spot just below your ear that has your pulse jumping.
He starts with a small, testing peck, before gently sucking the skin. Your grip on his hair tightens when he decides to nip the spot with his teeth before immediately soothing it with his tongue.
He presses a line of wet kisses down your neck, sucking and nipping at the skin of your collarbone that’s exposed by the loose collar of the shirt.
“Scott,” you whine, fingers grabbing at whatever you can reach before trying to find purchase in the waistband of his boxers.
He sits up fully, out of your reach now. “You need to learn to have patience.”
“You’re teasing me!” You pout, trying to pull him back down onto you.
He resists easily, grabbing both of your wrists and pinning them to your sides.
Your eyes widen and your stomach flips.
“Relax,” he mutters, voice rough.
All you can do is nod dumbly at him, which makes him smirk.
“Are you gonna be good if I let go of your hands?” He asks, tilting his head.
You nod again immediately, a frustrating mix of excitement and restraint warring inside you.
He releases your wrists and you force yourself to keep them stiff at your sides, fisting the sheets.
His eyes rake you up and down, noting the tension in your body, and his smirk only grows.
He runs his hands from your ankle to mid-thigh–stopping just before the hem of the shirt–and back again. Your entire body shivers at the feeling, and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he loves it.
You can also tell by the very prominent tent in his boxers.
The sight makes your mouth water.
“Scott,” you breathe out. “Stop teasing. Please.”
He clicks his tongue, continuing to stare down with his head tilted. “What do you want?”
“You know what I want,” you grumble.
“Use your words.”
You huff, cheeks burning with embarrassment, mouth still stubbornly shut.
He waits a total of three seconds before moving to lay back down next to you. “Okay,” he sighs. “Goodnight.”
Your hands fly out to stop him mid-motion, eyes wide. “Wait!” When he freezes, looking down at you expectantly, you groan. “I want you to touch me,” you finally mutter.
The cocky grin returns to his face as he settles back over you. “There you go,” he draws out, finally bringing his hands to the hem of your shirt.
Teasingly, he drags the shirt up your thighs, fingers brushing your soft skin along the way, causing goosebumps to erupt.
When your panties are fully revealed you can’t help but squirm slightly. He shoots you a sharp look and waits until you’ve stilled completely to skim his fingertips lightly up your sides under your shirt before bringing them back down, fingers hooking into the waistband of the lace.
You lift your hips as he slowly–so slowly–drags the fabric down your legs and tosses them carelessly onto the floor. You try to squeeze your legs closed, but his hands find your thighs once again, keeping them spread to expose your glistening core.
“That all from me?” He asks, head tilted, a taunting edge to his tone.
“Shup up,” you try to bite, but your voice comes out shaky.
His fingers tighten their grip on your thighs, digging hard enough you suspect–hope–it might leave marks. “Answer the question.”
“Yes,” you murmur, feeling more heat creep up your neck.
“Good girl,” he chuckles when you throw your head back against the pillow when he starts drawing tight circles on your clit with his thumb. “Knew this would be easy.”
“I’m not–” you’re cut off by a whine escaping your throat as he teases your entrance with a single fingertip. “I’m not easy,” you huff, raising your head to narrow your eyes at him.
“Not you,” he assures, sliding two fingers inside with no resistance, curling them just right. “Making you come.”
“Fuck,” you gasp, hands flying down to grip his wrist as the back of your head meets the pillow again.
“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, pumping his fingers while continuing the motions with his thumb.
His free hand drags your shirt to bunch above your breasts, then holds your hips in place when you try to rock them in time with his fingers–making you groan in frustration. He leans down, capturing a nipple between his lips, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.
Your back arches, pushing your chest closer to his face, and your hands move to tangle in his hair. Tension builds in your lower belly, coiling tighter as your legs start to tremble.
“Shit– Don’t stop,” you plead, pulling his hair harder.
He hums around your nipple before catching it with his teeth, tugging. You yank his hair hard enough to pull his head up, glaring up at him.
“Fucker!”
He shoots you a crooked smile that makes it easy to forget why you’re mad before suddenly adding a third finger, punching the air from your lungs.
“You gonna come?” He asks, less teasing, now.
You nod frantically, unable to stop the slew of moans leaving your lips. “I’m so close,” you pant, pulling his head down to smash your lips together.
He kisses you with much more composure than you can manage–practically just panting into his mouth–and crooks his fingers one more time.
Your orgasm crashes over you hard–your entire body locked up and eyes squeezed shut before the tension drains away, leaving you boneless against the bed.
Scott continues to pump his fingers slowly as you come down from your high, withdrawing them only when you start to whimper from the overstimulation.
Time seems to stretch as you lay in silence, trying to catch your breath and gather the energy to open your eyes–only finding it when you feel Scott shift so he’s laying next to you. You turn to face him, keeping one cheek pressed to the pillow, finding him with a dopey grin on his face.
“Why are you so happy?” You ask, words slightly slurred.
“Take a guess,” he responds, grin still fully intact.
You give a flat ‘ha ha’ before flicking them down to the still very prominent tent in his boxers. You drag your gaze back to his face, pointing weakly with one hand. “Don’t you want help with that?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “Wasn’t planning on it, no.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together. “What? Why?”
“Because I just wanted to take care of you,” he says with a shrug.
You blink. “So now you don’t want to fuck me?”
His eyebrows raise. “Where the hell did I say that? You have a concussion, I’m not gonna make you do anything.”
You roll your eyes. “Again, haven’t had a headache in days. And you wouldn’t be making me do anything.”
He sighs, but there’s no real irritation behind it. Instead, he props himself up as well and leans forward to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re exhausted.”
“So?”
“So, this isn’t transactional. I want you to sleep–I want to sleep.” He lays back down, gently brushing a strand of hair from your forehead. “This isn’t the last time we’ll have sex, I can wait.”
For the third time tonight, the backs of your eyes burn.
Not because he’s rejecting you.
Because he’s not.
And who knew Scott fucking Miller could have genuine emotional intelligence?
He notices the wobble in your lip and immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” you huff with a sniffle. “That was just very mature of you and it was like a jumpscare.”
He snorts–actually fucking snorts–at that, and presses a firmer kiss to the top of your head. “God, I love you.”
“Sap,” you mumble, snuggling closer to him anyway. “...I love you, too.”
- - - -
You wake slowly–naturally–the next morning in Scott’s bed as his girlfriend.
Not sure you’ll ever get used to that.
You blink the sleep out of your eyes and discover he’s already awake, scrolling silently on his phone.
“Hi,” he greets, voice rough from sleep.
You hum in response, stretching dramatically with a loud groan.
He doesn’t even blink–used to it by now.
You spend 15 minutes scrolling on TikTok next to him without a word before coming across a video that makes you pause.
In it, a girl eats a piece of sushi off of her boyfriend’s flexed bicep.
Scott turns to you curiously after the sound repeats for the fourth time. “Why are you watching the same video over and over?”
Wordlessly, you angle the phone toward him with a wicked grin on your face. He watches the video once, eyes widening when she eats the sushi, and his face immediately morphs into something like betrayal.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
“You don’t even have to show your face!”
He spends a very long moment debating internally, and you watch it all play out on his face.
“Please?” You ask in your sweetest voice and his resolve instantly crumbles.
He hangs his head and murmurs, “Fine.”
You’re giddy and regret overtakes his features when you pull up a collection of favorites titled “gross couple shit.”
“Oh, my god, there’s more?”
You scoff. “You’ve seen my screentime, this can’t be surprising.”
“I’m surprised you’ve saved…” He leans over to look at the total number of videos in the collection, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull when he sees it. “102?!”
You shrug, scrolling to find a specific video. “Obviously I started this years ago. Had to be prepared.”
“Prepared?” He repeats incredulously.
“Relax,” you mutter, finding the video to show him.
This one is a couple walking in opposite directions as if they don’t know each other and accidentally bumping shoulders. They turn to face each other and the girl shoves the guy before he pulls her into an intense kiss.
This time, you have a huge smile on your face.
“I won’t even post this one, but I need to do it.”
“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused.
You play the video again, practically shoving it in his face. “Um, because it’s hot.”
He watches the video again, more intently this time, and his face slowly untenses ever so slightly.
“It is kind of hot…” he mutters reluctantly.
You point at him triumphantly. “Told you!” Suddenly, you prop yourself up on one elbow as you realize you’ve never seen him on the app. “Do you even have TikTok?”
He scoffs, as if offended you’d think he would. “No.”
“At least 20 of these are things I saved specifically to send you once you asked me to be your girlfriend.”
“We were already dating.”
You frown. “Well yeah, but the distinction matters, we’ve been over this. You should download the app so I can send you them.”
“Just show me them.”
“It’s not the same,” you pout.
The sigh he lets out is long and dramatic, eyes closed as he tries to come up with an excuse, but ultimately fails.
Without a word, he opens the app store on his phone, searches for TikTok, and downloads the app.
“I’m putting a screen time limit on this thing,” he grumbles. “I’m only downloading this so you can send me your videos, don’t expect me to spend hours scrolling.”
“That’s what they all say,” you say, patting his arm as you settle back next to him with a proud smirk.
- - - -
Two weeks later, the Wranglers still haven’t left Oklahoma and you’re officially healed from the crash, so you decide to take advantage by inviting everyone out once again–this time, to a bar.
A year ago, you wouldn’t have even gone with the team if you were invited out during the off season. Now, you’re the one making the plans.
You finally feel like you belong here. You have Kate–who very quickly became the best friend you needed–, the guys have stopped treating you like they have no idea how to be around you.
Scott finally figured his shit out–finally sees you.
And your near death experience managed to successfully forge a friendship between Storm Par and the Wranglers, which felt like an impossible task at the start of this chase season. So, overall, you’d say things are going very well for you right now.
Which is why you’re not afraid to let yourself finally have fun. Let loose. Actually be 23 years old, dammit.
The bar is stuffy and reeks of cheap beer and egos, but you’re too engrossed in a game of darts–and your third drink–with Dani, Kate, and Boone to care.
“You got this, Sunny!” Kate cheers from behind you, her palms flat on the standing table the four of you have claimed, making it tip precariously.
“No you don’t!” Dani shouts next, trying to throw you off your game.
“Dani!” Boone chastises through a poorly suppressed laugh.
You wave a hand behind you wordlessly, trying to get them all to shut up so you can focus. The tip of your tongue pokes between your lips as you aim carefully before releasing the dart and…
Missing entirely.
“Damn,” you curse, spinning back to face them dramatically.
As you do, your eyes briefly catch where Scott is standing with Javi, Tyler, Peter, Dexter, and Lily… and a woman you’ve never seen before standing between Scott and Tyler.
You watch her talk animatedly with everyone–Kate, Dani, and Boone following your gaze when they notice that your attention is elsewhere.
“Who’s that?” Dani asks.
“No idea,” you mutter, chewing on your lip.
The four of you watch them interact for a few more moments–she laughs at something Lily says, tilts her head in interest when Dexter chimes in–and decide to turn back to your game when she doesn’t do anything incriminating.
Boone takes his turn next–hitting a bullseye to your horror, then Kate–who does significantly worse, also to your horror. Right as Dani is about to step up to take hers, you take another glance at the others and watch in slow-motion as the woman laughs again–this time way too loudly–and grabs onto Scott’s forearm where it rests on the table.
Is there an alarm going off, or are your ears ringing?
“Uh oh,” Boone says, a hand over his mouth.
You stare, jaw dropped, eyes wide, completely frozen for what feels like hours. Then you turn to your friends, wide-eyed, voice higher than normal. “Um! Is she hitting on my boyfriend?”
Kate, ever the mediator, tries to reason, “Maybe she just needed to steady herself?”
“On my boyfriend?”
She shrugs, wearing an apologetic expression
You whine, turning to look at them again and feel sick when her hands are still there and she’s now practically pressed to his side–which he looks increasingly uncomfortable with as he stares down at the table, jaw clenched so tightly you can see it from across the room.
You whip your head back to Kate. “Maybe she just needed to steady herself!” You mock.
She holds her hands up in surrender. “Yup. Misread that. My bad.”
When you look at Scott once again, he’s standing stiffly, trying to subtly scoot closer to Javi on his other side.
Now he decides to be nice?!
“I can’t go over there, right…?” You ask, picking at your nails, eyes locked on the point of contact.
“I’m sure Scott will handle it,” Dani assures you, patting your shoulder.
And she’s probably right…
He already looks uncomfortable, he won’t let it go on forever…
But the reassurance only works for about four seconds before you’re grabbing your drink without thought and marching over to the group as casually as possible, trying to hide the fact that you’re simultaneously fuming and deeply embarrassed. Kate, Dani, and Boone trail behind you, sharing uncertain glances.
“Hi,” you say sweetly when you reach them, sliding between Javi and Scott–who immediately presses a little further into your side once you’re there–and turn to the woman. “I’m Sunny, I don’t think we’ve met.”
She hums, smiling a little too wide. “I’m Claire. Just thought I’d come over and say hello to these very handsome, um, meteor…”
“Meteorologists,” you finish, voice still sickeningly sweet. “Yeah, they are pretty handsome, aren’t they?”
She chuckles. “They sure are. Especially this one here.” She pats Scott’s arm where her hands still rest and you can feel him stiffen next to you.
The rest of the table shares uneasy looks and Kate cuts in before you can. “Well, he has a girlfriend,” she says as lightly as possible.
Claire turns her head to look at Scott, seemingly oblivious to–or simply not caring about–the tension. “Oh! I didn’t know you were taken,” she says with a pout, but doesn’t move her hands. “I mean, it’s not like she’s here, right?” She chuckles.
You finally lean around Scott to see her more clearly, smile gone, eyes sharp. He opens his mouth, but you speak first. “Yeah, hi, I’m the girlfriend.”
Claire’s face does something complicated for a split second before morphing into something you can only describe as judgemental.
And she, very pointedly, still does not move.
“Oh!” Her eyes scan you up and down before settling back on your face, eyes narrowed slightly. “Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed.”
“Okay,” Scott cuts in finally, physically removing her hands from his arm. “I think you should leave.”
His tone is firm, but not rude, and you’re a bit jealous of his restraint because right now you kind of want to rip her head off.
She looks more embarrassed by the direct rejection than the fact that she was just hitting on a man in front of his girlfriend, but leaves the table without another word–just a final glance at Scott.
“What the fuck did she mean by that?” You ask incredulously the second she’s gone.
Scott doesn’t say anything. Just wraps an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side.
You tut but let yourself slowly start to relax into him. “That felt very mean.”
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs against your hair.
“She was just jealous,” Lily says, leaning across the table.
You scoff. “Of what? She was age appropriate and hot.”
“You’re hot,” Scott immediately argues, glaring down at you.
You point at him. “But not age appropriate.”
He rolls his eyes. “Haven’t had an issue with it yet.”
“Okay, well, what if you decide you want someone more mature? Who can, like, afford a mortgage or a car loan.”
“Why would I want someone who can afford those things when I can afford those things for both of us?” He sounds genuinely confused, but the teasing undertone is still there.
You swirl your straw in your drink, staring down at it. You want to make a joke about how that sounds like something a sugar daddy would say, or be annoyed with him for flexing his income, but you don’t.
He notices–because of course he does–as conversation picks back up around you at the table.
“Hey,” he says, gentler. When you don’t respond, he places a finger under your chin and carefully tilts your head up. His eyebrows are drawn together. “Are you actually upset?”
You shrug, trying to look back down at your drink. “No.”
“You’re a terrible liar.”
You glare at him, but there’s no real heat behind it. “I don’t know if I want to be having this conversation in a crowded bar surrounded by everyone I know.”
He considers that for a moment, then takes your drink out of your hand, sets it down on the table, and grabs your hand to drag you outside.
“Hey!” You protest, but he just keeps walking.
He leads you outside and around the corner, stopping once you’re far enough away to avoid most of the foot traffic, and leans against the side of the building.
“Okay, we’re no longer in a crowded bar surrounded by everyone you know. Talk.”
You huff, looking down at your hands as you start to pick your nails. “It’s stupid,” you mutter.
He gently grabs one of your hands, prying it away from the other. “It’s not stupid if you’re upset over it.”
You look at him flatly. “I’m upset over stupid things literally all the time.”
“...Okay, fair,” he chuckles softly before turning serious once again. “Talk to me, please.”
You groan, avoiding eye contact, then rush out, “Sometimes I get worried you’re going to leave me for someone older.”
“Why would I do that?” He asks after a few moments.
You scoff. “Why would you do that? Um, because I’m, like, ten years younger than you. And you’re all mature and have a PhD and your own company and blah blah blah, and I’m just… I don’t know.” You shake your head and take your hand back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can we just go back inside?”
“Hey, no, hold on.” He grabs your hand again and ducks his head to hold eye contact. “How long have you been worried about that?”
You drop your head back dramatically. “That’s not important.”
“No, it is important. Because if you’ve spent the entire time we’ve been together thinking that I’m just going to leave you, then that’s a problem.”
You bring your head back up, shrinking a little under the weight of his words. “I feel like I’m being yelled at,” you mumble.
His face immediately softens. “Sorry. I’m not trying to yell at you. I just want you to see that you’re being stupid– nope, that’s worse. Hold on.” He takes a breath, looking up as he thinks through his words. “Do you think I didn’t have more ‘age appropriate’ options?”
Your face twists. “Do not make me think about that.”
He rolls his eyes. “I have a point I’m trying to make.”
You sigh deeply. “Fine. Yes, I’m sure you had more age appropriate options. You’re built like fucking Superman and you’re rich.”
“Comfortable,” he corrects.
“Scott.”
“Sorry.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is that I didn’t want the other options,” he says, cupping your face with both hands to make sure you really look at him. “I wanted the person who didn’t just let me get away with being an asshole when I was too stupid to realize what I felt. Who’s the most passionate meteorologist I’ve ever met. Who literally changed the fucking settings in Scarecrow on day one so she could control the music.”
He chuckles then, squeezing your face just a little tighter. “Got it? I wanted–still want–you.”
You frown, arms hanging loosely at your sides. “It’s very weird that you’re romantic now.”
He huffs out a laugh through his nose. “So you’ve said.” His expression becomes serious again. “Do you believe me now, though?”
You search his face for any sign that he’s just trying to placate you, but you can’t find anything insincere. Your shoulders drop as you nod and mumble, “Yeah.”
“Good,” he breathes out, bending down to press a firm kiss to your lips before straightening back up, hands still on your face. “If you ever start to think about shit like that again, you tell me.”
“But it’s stupid,” you pout.
“It is,” he agrees, kissing you one more time before dropping his hands. “But it makes you upset, so stop pretending it doesn’t.”
You groan. “Fine.”
He nods once, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze before leading you back inside the bar.
And for the first time in a long time, the future doesn’t only feel scary.
1////// They had a healthy And toxic relationship. Telamon manipulated Builderman, but in the end, they loved each other. The day before Telamon disappeared, the admins were going to help Builderman confess his feelings, but unfortunately, he never could. LOL. Dusekkar is the only one who knows that Shedletsky was Telamon. At first, when Shedletsky arrived, Builderman avoided him and only stayed in his office, but later they became friends. Builderman would tell him about Telamon (a topic that didn't sit well with him), and Shedletsky just stayed quiet because he couldn't do anything about it. He wasn't going to tell Builderman that he was Telamon; (un the past!) Builderman would hate him.
2/////!! Builderman had fallen deeply in love with Telamon, and Telamon with him. So when Telamon disappeared, Builderman suppressed all his urge to cry (the worst thing he could have done). Then, whenever someone spoke of Telamon, he would get angry. One day, when he saw his picture with Telamon, he couldn't hold it in and started to cry, but he was furious that Telamon had abandoned him. So he crumpled the picture. In that picture was a feather belonging to Telamon. Clearly, Builderman was happy, but he quickly started hitting the table in frustration. (Shedletsky saw everything and felt guilty about it.)
Little fun fact!!; The day that Builderman committed suicide was the day Shedletsky was going to tell Builderman everything, that he used to be Telamon (he never managed to, just as Builderman never managed to confess his feelings to Telamon!!).
3////..When Telamon 'ereased' them self's, Builderman fell into a deep depression. He felt that if he continued to live, Telamon would return. As time passed, he became very close friends with Shedletsky. Shedletsky would tease Builderman and cheer him up on bad days. One day, (Shedletsky every day keeps an eye on Builderman), when Shedletsky didn't come to work Builderman took a lot of antidepressants and overdosed. He started coughing up blood (I don't know how overdoses work, lol) and died there on the floor covered in blood. When Shedletsky arrived (he was late), he went to see Builderman, since he always went to look for him at the entrance. There he saw Builderman smiling, covered in blood, with the photo with Telamon. From that day on, Shedletsky thought it was all his fault, and that he could have saved him.
4/////.. When they arrived in Forsaken, Builderman only remembered a little; he knew he was friends with Shedletsky, but he didn't remember Telamon. Shedletsky, on the other hand, remembered everything, and several times he tried to get Builderman to remember Telamon so he could tell him what he couldn't in life. Unfortunately, he never succeeded!
5//////, Shedletsky married Brighteyes because Builderman died; but if he had arrived on time (in another timeline) he would have married Builderman, Shedletsky still loves builderman.
¡I know there are very few, but I hope you like them! (I'm sorry LOL!!, One day i Will make them happy.)