jazzish
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
In November of 1996, Oasis is recording their epic third album 'Be Here Now'. The band has played to historic crowds at Knebworth and Loch Lomond, and Oasis' most cocaine-fueled, chaotic period is in full swing.
Noel Gallagher is about to find out that winning control, and keeping it, mean precisely fuck all if you can't control yourself.
A story about little white lines and grey moral lines, and what happens when everything gets crossed.
---
“Tell me you’re sorry.” Noel blurts. His heart is beating cocaine-fast, adrenaline and arousal crashing through him.
“W’tfor?” Liam slurs, and Noel has to laugh at the audacity of it.
Bookmarked by jazzish
21 Sep 2025
-
Tags
Summary
They pass under a lamp glaring thousands of lumens in a tangible curtain. Bucky stares at him for a couple steps before his eyes pucker into a squint. Gale meets his gaze steadily until he can't stand it anymore and takes a stab.
"You forgot my name," he guesses, and Bucky relaxes.
"You got me."
"It's Gale."
-- Bucky and Gale meet during Operation Enduring Freedom
Bookmarked by jazzish
16 Sep 2025
-
Tags
Summary
"Jesus, what were we thinking?" Noel chuckles it out and strokes the sleeve, figuring that'll be the end of it.
"We were in love." Liam replies, serious as anything, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "At least, I was."
Noel can't stop himself from asking, and he hates how sad he sounds when it has been him gone for 7 years. "Was?"
Bookmarked by jazzish
15 Sep 2025
-
Tags
Summary
“I was mad at him when I wrote that ‘cause he’d been a right fucking cunt. I write five thousand sets of lyrics a month, sometimes it’s just some fucking nonsense. Means fuck all.”
He’s not sure they believe him. He’s not sure any of them believe him. Disturbing, the tabloids said. Noel Gallagher’s incestuous fantasies, one titled.
Bookmarked by jazzish
04 Sep 2025
-
Tags
Summary
Noel has no idea why here, why now: this night, this hotel room, this exact moment. After so many years. A thousand looks that went unacknowledged. A thousand touches that didn’t ignite. Hundreds of evenings that could have ended like this, dozens of hotel rooms that could have been the place.
They’ve been skirting the edge for so long, it’s a fucking marvel.
Bookmarked by jazzish
04 Sep 2025