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fandomtherapy44 · 5 months

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Tommy x reader

I'm trying something new hope you enjoy!

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Episode 1

POV (Y/n)

The smoke you could never really escape it. It would follow wherever you went and smack you in the face as soon you went outside. It being so thick from the factories and all the cigarettes that people would light twenty-four seven. The mud was slick and if you walked too fast you would find yourself face down in it. As a woman if you wanted a job there weren't a lot of options then being a nanny to the rich considered though not many people were rich here or to be a lady of the night and have to be humiliated just to make enough money to barely support yourself. Those are just some features of small heath that make living here Hell sometimes.

Luckily, I was one of the few women that got a job where that I could actually feel okay with it. That being a barmaid at the only good pub in my opinion in Small heath The Garrison. Harry being friends with my dad really helped me to get this job it’s not that Harry thought I couldn't handle Bar maiding it’s just he didn't want me to have to deal with all the fucking bastards that liked to get handsy when drunk and there were a lot of those here. But I was able to handle them just fine after I showed them my knife if they wanted to try again.

And then there are the Shelby’s the fucking Shelby’s or the Peaky Blinders. Our Local gang but they weren’t the typical gang. I mean they would beat a man an inch within his life, but they had a reason. And I use to be friends with all of them. I am still friendly with Polly and Ada. We sometimes get a drink to catch up. But Tommy Shelby I would have taken a bullet for, but it turns out he was holding the gun.

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“Hello Harry, how was the morning?” I placed down my things and looked at the man. “Uh you know our typical local drunks, but I did get a surprise this morning.” “Ohh please tell me it wasn't old man withers wanting to show his family jewels again.” I shuddered. “No no thankfully it was pleasant. It was a woman wanting a job around your age I think.” I was a little surprised. “Really and you gave it to her?” “Yeah, she seemed desperate so I was wondering if you could show her the ropes while I get some rest?” “Yes of course.” “Great thank you Y/n. She will be here shortly.”

I'm wiping down the counter when a blond slime pretty women walked in. “Hello, I'm looking for a Y/n Brown.” She had one of the most charming Irish sounding accents I had ever heard. “That would be me.” I put down my torn-up rag and held out my hand for her to shake it. “My name's grace.” “Well Grace welcome to small heath and in par the Garrison let me show you around.”

“Well, that includes the tour any questions?” “Ahh just one who are the peaky blinders?” “I'm surprised you already known of them.” I leaned against the bar in intrigue. “I've heard whispers around and I just want to know who I'm serving here you know.” I breathed in deeply thinking about the family in question. “The Peaky Blinders are a group who don’t conduct not the typical business if you know what I mean.” “So, a gang.” “Yes, but you don’t have to be sacred they don’t hurt someone unless they have too, I mean they're a bunch of ares's but they are just people at the end of the day.” She was now intrigue with how I spoke. “You speak of if you know them.” “I do. Now.” I brought out some glasses and a bottle of amber filled liquid. “Whiskey.” “You're going to need it if you're going to work here.” I downed my glass like it was water and I just finished a race.

I let grace go home early sense there weren't that many people left. It was closing time, and a knock was heard on the doors. “Hello Ada.” I opened the door and there stood one of my last Shelby friends. “There any whiskey left from the night.” She quickly passed me to the bar seats. “I saved one just for you.” I poured a double. “So, I'm guessing from the state of you it was an amazing time with your mystery man.” That’s what I liked about being a barmaid not that I would ever share gossip but as soon as a person had more than one, they would open like a book and get so drunk that they would forget that you were the most trusted person for them for a couple of hours.

“It was, it always is.” She looked down in her glass wishing to dive in. “You know Ada who ever this man is he must be pretty special.” “He is.” “Well then why look so sad?” I wanted to know what was making my friend feel like this. “I can't tell anyone that were together not even you.” “Why?” “Because it’s dangerous.” “Well, if that's the reason then I'm okay not knowing just don't let it be a secret to long, okay?” I smiled and clanged our glasses together in friendship and secrets.

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I came in early the next day I didn’t need to, but it was Saturday and there was football I didn’t want Grace deal with all that on her first day. “Hello Grace, Harry.” I put my apron on. “Y/n I thought you didn't work till later.” “Well Grace you are going to need all the help you can get today.” About an hour later the Garrison was filled to the brim with men who wanted a little luck for their bets they did. “Told ya.” I yelled out over the rowdy voices that clambering to get attention. But over all that I still hear the tapping from the window that was part of the Shelby’s private room. Grace went to answer it, but I stopped her.

“Wait grace why don’t I do that now so it’s easier for you in the future.” She nods timely in agreement. Harry looked nervous as well. I whipped the windows open without even thinking who it could be, and I was faced with the man who broke my heart. We both started for a moment before Tommy remembered his words. “I need a bottle of Rum.” He places coins on the bar even though he didn't need to. “Of course, Mr. Shelby which kind.” I was trying so hard to keep it professional.

“I don’t care.” Of course, he didn’t as long he could stupidly get drunk with his brothers. I grabbed our cheapest bottle of rum and gave it to him and then he turned to Grace. “Are you a whore?” If I had water, I would do a spit take. She didn’t know how to answer that. “Because if you’re not, you’re in the wrong place.” He took his bottle and left. She turned to me. “He’s one of the ones you told me about.” I only nodded. “Grace, you’re a friendly girl but be careful. If I say ‘on the house’ say nothing to whoever you’re serving. If they decide they want, you there’s nothing anybody could do about it.” Harry swigged a beer after that and went to attend to others. “Grace Tommy’s not like that he’s just not.” I felt some tears welling up, but I would not let them come out because I refused to cry over that man ever again.

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When I got home later all I wanted to do was crawl into bed but of course I couldn't. “Mom mom wake up.” I gently nudged her. “Mhhh Oliver I don’t want to.” Oliver my father’s name. “Come on mom let’s get to bed.” I helped her up from the table and led her upstairs. I set her up and went to my own bed where a photo of my Father hung. “Hi dad I hope I made you proud today.” I finger kissed the picture and layed down while my interaction with Tommy played on a loop.

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The next day at work was a little better. Grace was singing for all of the drunk lovesick men which I did not know we were doing now. One of the men who I had known for a while suggested that I join her. “Oh, I don’t know.” I really only sang for someone I don't talk to anymore. “Come on, I remember you singing like an angel in church.” Other men decided to chime in. “Yeah!” “Come on Y/n.” “OK ok.” “I got up on the table and I felt as if there were a million eyes on me. “Alright Y/n you know the song well enough?” I shook my head.

“Let's go from three One... two… Three The boy I love is up in the gallery....” I sang out and closed my eyes and I remembered all the times I would sing for the Shelby’s on our weekly family nights but especially Tommy. I was so lost in the moment that I didn’t notice that the men and Grace had stopped singing with me. “As pretty as a robin. As gentle as a dove.” “We haven’t had singing in here since the war.” Harry said with a little fear that I was confused so I opened my eyes, and it was two of the Shelby brothers there, John and more importantly Tommy. Tommy did not look happy as he stared at me. “Why do you think that is?” He storms into the private room with his brother and slams the door.

====================== The night was cold like the kind of cold that almost had a kind of charm to grab a warm drink with a friend or to cuddle next to a fire. I had gone outside to get some fresh air when I saw Tommy walking again, we had made eye contact this was most interaction I've had with him in a while. I heard about Danny one of Tommy’s best friends I wanted to run to him to be there for him, but I just couldn't. I didn't know if I ever could again.

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So, this show is way different then a CW show so it's going to be interesting to say a least. But I'm excited to try a new show then in the CW universe Hope you enjoy see you in the next one. Also, if you like supernatural I have a Castiel x reader and the originals Klaus x reader.

#tommy shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby x reader series #Aruther Shelby #john shelby #Y/n Peaky blinders #thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinder x reader

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south-of-heaven · 9 months

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She made my baby cry || Becky Lynch x Reader x Seth Rollins

Summary: Becky goes off on Trish during a press conference in Saudi Arabia after that incident on RAW. Part two of My baby

The tension in the air was palpable as the press conference in Saudi Arabia commenced. The incident on RAW a few weeks back involving Trish Stratus and Becky Lynch had left a sour taste in everyone's mouths. The fiery exchange between the two had ignited a feud that was fueled by genuine anger and frustration.

As the conference started, Becky took the stage, her presence commanding attention. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable as she held the microphone in her hand. The room fell silent, anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

"The Man has come around to Jeddah!" Becky's voice cut through the silence, her Irish accent adding a distinctive edge to her words. She continued her monologue, explaining Trish's backstabbing tendencies before really starting to go off on her.

"But you know, I understand this business. I've lived and breathed it, fought and bled for it. My partners, Seth Freaking Rollins and Y/N Y/L/N both understand this business!"

Beside the stage, you and Seth watched, your little one, Roux, in your arms. Her wide eyes were fixated on her mom, the familiar voice capturing her attention.

"But my baby," Becky's voice wavered slightly, a hint of vulnerability breaking through her fierce exterior. "My baby doesn't understand this business, and she made my baby cry."

Becky's anger radiated as she continued, her emotions raw and unfiltered. "Trish Stratus, they call you the queen of the attitude era? Well, let me tell you something, Trish. I'm going to slap the attitude out of you tomorrow night."

The words hung in the air, a declaration of war from a mother who had fiercely protected her own. As Becky stepped down from the stage, the room erupted in murmurs and applause, the intensity of her words resonating with everyone present.

You and Seth made your way to her side as she walked offstage. The three of you formed a tight circle, arms wrapping around each other in a show of unity and support. Becky's fiery gaze softened as her eyes met yours, a mixture of determination and vulnerability in her expression.

"You were amazing up there," you whispered, your voice filled with pride and love.

Seth nodded in agreement, his hand resting on Becky's shoulder. "Yeah, you let it all out. You let the world know what kind of person she really is."

Becky's lips curved into a small smile, her shoulders relaxing under the weight of her emotions. With a deep breath, she let out a sigh, as if releasing the pent-up tension that had been building within her.

And then, her gaze shifted to Roux, your precious little one nestled in your arms. A look of pure adoration crossed Becky's face as she reached out, her arms eager to hold her baby girl. You passed Roux to her, their bond evident in the gentleness of the exchange.

As Becky held Roux close, her fierce determination softened into a tenderness that only a mother could offer. In that moment, surrounded by the people she loved most, Becky Lynch found solace and strength in the arms of her family.

#wwe fanfiction #wwe x reader #pro wrestling #wrestling #wwe #big time becks #the man becky lynch #becky lynch fanfic #becky lynch x reader #becky lynch #seth rollins x becky lynch #seth rollins x reader x becky lynch #seth rollins fanfiction #seth rollins x reader #seth rollins #brollins x reader #brollins

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shifting---patterns · 4 months

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Elena Dawson: The Art of Artisanal Fashion

Today's blog post marks a special moment for me. Not only because it's my first on Shifting Patterns, but also because I deeply admire and enjoy the work of this designer. So much so that my wife and I even got married in her garments. Today, I want to introduce you to Elena Dawson.

Elena Dawson, a London-born fashion designer for menswear and womenswear, keeps much of her personal life under wraps.There's no existing website anymore, and her former blog is no longer accessible. Only a Instagram account with a couple of posts and a contact email serves as a point of contact. It all somewhat reminds of the enigmatic Paul Harnden, doesn't it? But we'll get to that later. She studied Art and Fashion Design at the University of Brighton and worked as a seamstress after completing her degree. At that time, she said, "I draw on the knowledge I learned at the tailors still now in the way I make clothing."

In 2000, she co-founded the clothing line "Paul Harnden Clothiers" with her ex-partner Paul Harnden. She was an integral part of the design, concept, and business until 2009 with Paul Harnden, who was primarily known under the name "Paul Harnden Shoemakers" until then, when she decided to establish her own clothing and shoe label in East Sussex. Her studio is located there as well. Despite Dawson's departure, Paul Harnden's ready-to-wear collections continue to this day. Since 2009, the brand has naturally grown, but Dawson still produces her clothes and shoes herself, supported by a small team. Everything is produced in-house in multiple studio spaces, but all is handmade.

The aesthetic of Dawson's work at Paul Harnden and her own brand has definitely evolved over the years. Paul Harnden, who is now known not only for his shoes but also for his blazers/jackets, coats, trousers, and shirts, has a rather clean cut and neatly sewn edges. On the other hand, Elena Dawson has a rather rough look and is known for her unfinished seams with dangling fabric scraps. It's sometimes hard to describe, but she has a very romantic, poetic, Victorian look that partly reminds me of Tim Burton movies.

When I put on one of her beloved blazers, I often feel like a part of Bertolt Brecht's Threepenny Opera, almost like a wardrobe from the 19th century. I own 2 blazers (linen and wool), 1 linen shirt, 2 pants (linen and cotton), and silk accessories from Dawson. My wife has a mix of a coat and dress. All her clothes are labelled with the classic "Elena Dawson - Made In England" label and the washing/material information written in her really unreadable handwriting with a Sharpie.

The coats and blazers (mostly) feature beige/white cotton lining, and the classic look, often seen online, is achieved by rolling the sleeves backward, exposing the lining through the open seams. She works with a dress form, sculpturing everything, and only uses natural materials. Her favorites are English wool, Indian cotton, Irish linen, and Chinese silk. She describes her work as follows: "When you work on alterations you are really tearing the guts out of the garment, performing a sort of autopsy—you really get to see a garment at its most vulnerable point. Observing this state of semi-deconstruction in the making of a garment or shoe is what I like to retain in my finished work."

You'll rarely get the chance to buy her pieces online, as there are hardly any retailers offering her items online. She mentioned: "We don't do much press or social media work and we don't sell online at all. I'm not against that. It's just not the brand's main job." Elena Dawson limits the maximum order quantity and carefully chooses her retailers. She prefers to keep the brand small, and even on classic online platforms like Grailed, Vestiaire Collective, or eBay, you won't find many of her items used.

I highly recommend visiting a retailer near you for the experience alone and trying on the clothes in-store. In my case, it's Harvey's in Berlin. However, the most well-known point of sale is probably Dover Street Market in London, with whom she has a strong relationship, as Dover Street Market has actively supported her brand from the beginning, granting her a significant presence there. In Tokyo, I was also able to find her pieces at DSM and at the Comme des Garcons Pocket Store.

The result is garments full of personality that evolve over time alongside one's own personality, incomparable to any other looks consumed and worn nowadays. Each piece, crafted by her hands, is unique, and I'll tell you, the first time I wore an Elena Dawson blazer at Harvey's in Berlin, it resonated with me. The look, the weight, the fit… it felt like a second skin, and over the course of 2 years, seeing how it aged with me, it became more like an extension of myself each day.

Here's to Elena — may your artistic journey continue to inspire and captivate for years to come!

Davis Jahn

#fashion #art #elena dawson #paul harnden #avant garde #avant garde fashion #artisanal #artisanal fashion

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scotianostra · 1 year

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On May 10th 1850 Thomas Lipton, founder of the Lipton's grocery chain was born in Glasgow.

Before the big supermarkets took over we lhad ots of wee ones, every street had a Liptons, or a Galbraith even a Templetons!

Liptons was one of the originals started by a guy from Glasgow who built an empire and the tea brand still bares his name.

Born in a tenement flat in Crown Street, the Gorbals, Liptons parents were Irish and had left the Emerald Isle during the potato famine, the smallholding their family had farmed on for generations no longer viable they settled in Glasgow. 'Tommy' Lipton was educated at St. Andrew's Parish School close to Glasgow Green and by the time Tommy was 12 his parents had a shop in the street they lived selling ham, butter, and eggs. It was with the aim of supplementing his parents' limited income that Thomas Lipton left school at the age of thirteen and found employment as a printer's errand boy, and later as a shirtcutter. He also enrolled at a night school, the Gorbals Youth's School, during this period. He then found work as a cabin boy a steamer running between Glasgow and Belfast and was captivated by life aboard the ship and the stories told by sailors who had traveled to the US After being let go by the steamer company, Lipton quickly used the wages he had saved to purchase passage on a ship bound for the U.S., where he would spend five years working and traveling all over the country.

Back in Scotland on his 21st birthday, In 1871 Lipton opened his firstown shop at 101 Stobcross Street in Glasgow. In the heart of industrial Glasgow, full of smoke and fog, the shop was said to be so brightly lit that at night it became a beacon in the street. Goods were stacked in the American fashion, not for the convenience of the proprietors, but with the purpose of catching the customers’ attention. Lipton used another selling technique learned from his time in the States and from his Mother's shop.

When his parents had opened their small shop, Mrs. Lipton, rather than deal with middlemen at the markets, dealt directly with the farmers of her homeland. Lipton followed this example. He bought his bacon, eggs, butter and other produce directly from Irish farmers. The firm traded as a supermarket until 1982 when another group bought the shops that were to become Presto’s, the decision was made as they wanted to solely concentrate on the Tea business which it does to this day, in 2009 Lipton received a Corporate Green Globe Award for its work with the Rainforest Alliance.

As well as the tea and the shops but Lipton was also a keen sailor, he holds a place in the America’s Cup heart as being the most reliably consistent and deftly congenial loser. Five times he challenged for the Cup, five times being defeated. Despite his best laid plans and momentous effort to win the cup, the tea magnate simply didn’t cut the mustard. Nonetheless, he did have a penchant for beautiful boats. His last challenger, Shamrock V, never really stood a chance of winning the race but it did win marks for pure beauty. His well-publicised efforts to win the cup, which earned him a specially designed cup for “the best of all losers”, and also made his tea famous in the United States.

During the first world war Thomas Lipton helped organisations of medical volunteers. He placed his yachts at the disposal of the Red Cross, the Scottish Women's Hospitals Committee of Dr. Elsie Inglis, the Serbian Supporting Fund, etc., for the transport of medical volunteers (doctors and nurses) and medical supplies. Not content with just allowing his boats to be used he also took a keen interest in the work of Elsie Inglis and the womans hospital, visiting Serbia, where he insisted on humble lodgings and was renowned for his humility and modesty. .In addition to visiting many hospitals, where he encouraged doctors, nurses and soldiers, he found time to attend traditional fairs and to take a part in blackberry gathering and fishing. Sir Thomas Lipton was proclaimed an honorary citizen of the city of Niš.

Lipton even made the cover of Time magazine during 1924. He was knighted in 1901. Sir Thomas Lipton passed away on 2nd October 1931 in London and is buried alongside his parents and siblings in Glasgow's Southern Necropolis, his grave, like the man himself, a humble, simple understated affair, he bequeathed the majority of his fortune to his native city of Glasgow, including his yachting trophies, which are now on display at the Kelvingrove Gallery.

#scotland #scottish #grocer #tea merchant #sailor #philanthropist #glaswegian #history

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hldailyupdate · 2 years

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Harry Styles: the world’s most wanted man

Harry Styles has become a global pop icon. Now, he has his sights set on Hollywood. How does he make all of it look so easy — even when it definitely isn’t?

On a Friday night in New York, Harry Styles put on a show.

It wasn’t just any show; it was the first time he performed his third and soon-to-be-biggest album, Harry’s House, in its entirety. The crowd that May night covered Long Island’s UBS Arena in feathers and glitter and tears — a ritualistic skin shedding of sorts whenever Styles comes to town.

Fans noticed something different about the encore: Styles didn’t end with his usual closer, ‘Kiwi’; instead, he opted to finish the night with a second performance of his new single ‘As It Was’, his dance-through-the-tears pandemic reflection on isolation and change. When he played it, the crowd exploded in a way even Styles had never experienced. It left him a bit shaken.

“We came offstage, and I went into my dressing room and just wanted to sit by myself for a minute,” he tells me, two months later. “After One Direction, I didn’t expect to ever experience anything new. I kind of felt like, ‘All right, I’ve seen how crazy it can get.’ And I think there was something about it where I was… not terrified, but I just needed a minute. Because I wasn’t sure what it was. Just that the energy felt insane.”

Before his headlining set at Coachella in April, I caught Harry backstage, surrounded by James Corden, Styles’s onstage guest Shania Twain, and his girlfriend, Olivia Wilde. Later, I took in sold-out shows in New York and at Wembley Stadium. The immense love showering Styles was impossible to ignore — you see it in the faces of every fan, whether they’ve been supporting him for “one year, two years, five years, 12 years”, as he says in nearly every end-of-show thank you speech. Along the way I heard him everywhere, even when I wasn’t trying. ‘As It Was’ played in every cab. ‘Watermelon Sugar’ soundtracked breakfast. ‘Golden’ lurked quietly at a London chemist’s. ‘Late Night Talking’ blasted at a Brooklyn bar, leading one man to proclaim, “I like Harry Styles. I can admit it,” like it was a radical act of self-acceptance.

And while he may be everywhere in 2022, Styles is, at the moment, literally right in front of me, sitting in an armchair of a hotel business suite in Hamburg, Germany, on a sweaty June afternoon. After a dip in the Irish Sea this morning, he flew into town and is now enjoying a day off in the middle of his first European tour since 2018.

In person, Styles looks more like your best friend’s cute, sporty older brother than the gender-bending style icon he’s become. He’s left the boas and sequin jumpsuits in the dressing room, opting instead for a blue Adidas track jacket, gym shorts, and Gucci trainers. His hair, often described as “tousled”, like he’s a renegade prince in a romance novel, is clipped back with a hair claw, a signature day-off accessory.

Styles is a kind of millennial anomaly: he plugs his phone in across the room, never once sneaking a glance for a rogue notification. He maintains eye contact as his thoughts unfurl in his often slow drawl. He’s a bit more Zen, even stoic, than he once was; that goofy, class-clown energy he exuded when the world first fell in love with him in One Direction 12 years ago has naturally diminished. But he’s still as affable and charming as ever, remembering details from small talk we had in all the other cities where I had been (professionally) stalking him, and proving earnestly curious about how I was going to spend my time in Hamburg and how magazine deadlines work. (Back in New York, after surprising fans at a Spotify event for his new album, he asked me my thoughts on David Crosby’s most recent album, which he loved.)

“‘As It Was’ is definitely the highest volume of men that I would get stopping me to say something about it”

“My great uncle lives here,” Styles says of Hamburg. “He married a German lady, so I have a German cousin. They always used to come and visit when I was a kid, and the only word in English [the cousin] knew was ‘lemonade’. I didn’t know if she actually wanted lemonade or was trying to say ‘Give me some water, please!’”

Of course it wasn’t meant to take him this long to get back to places like Hamburg, where he’ll play for more than 50,000 fans tomorrow night at Volksparkstadion, a local football stadium. Love on Tour, the name for his current trek, was supposed to launch in the spring of 2020, a few months after Styles released his second album, Fine Line. We all know what happened next.

Styles didn’t get to play live again until last autumn, but something funny happened in the interim. While we were bound to our homes, Styles experienced his first number one hit in Fine Line’s ‘Watermelon Sugar’, a tune so sweet it may take a moment to realise he’s singing about cunnilingus. Less than a year later, he won his first Grammy for it.

When flying became an option, Styles came home to London. Later, he drove down to Italy in his late stepdad’s car with a friend, listening to the jazz CDs left behind. He visited the Trevi Fountain one day, likely wearing his short-lived pandemic moustache, and was greeted with just four other people instead of the usual throngs that surround the historic site: “I felt like every day you’d say, ‘Weird time, isn’t it?’ Then go, ‘Yeah, it’s fucking insane!’”

He credits his stream of roommates — friends, collaborators — with keeping him together during this time. “I really would’ve struggled if I’d done the whole thing by myself,” he says, mirroring the “Harry, you’re no good alone” lyric from ‘As It Was’. After Italy, Styles visited friends in France, then returned to work, eventually posting up at Real World Studios near Bath. By the time he set off across the US to finally tour behind Fine Line last autumn, Harry’s House was secretly finished.

Now, besides the unavoidable singles and the victory-lap world tour, there are other indicators of next-level stardom: his skincare, nail polish and clothing line called Pleasing and a fashion collection with Gucci, not to mention his flourishing movie career. He’s starring in the psychological thriller Don’t Worry Darling and in the intimate drama My Policeman, and he’s nabbed a deal with Marvel Studios to play Eros in at least one of the Eternals films. “Everything in my life has felt like a bonus since X-Factor,” he says, referring to the singing competition that led directly to One Direction. “Get on TV and sing. I never expected and never thought that would happen.”

When Styles played two sold-out shows at Wembley Stadium in June, the first thing he did after stepping offstage each night was take a shower. The post-show shower has become a ritual: a hygienic necessity, sure, but also a crucial moment of clarity and reflection. He washes away the screams full of love and desire to just be in his presence. Anyone would be overwhelmed by that. “It’s really unnatural to stand in front of that many people and have that experience,” he says. “Washing it off, you’re just a naked person, in your most vulnerable, human form. Just like a naked baby, basically.”

Those post-Wembley showers were especially gratifying. When One Direction, which Styles casually refers to as “the band”, played the stadium in 2014, he ended up with tonsillitis on the day of the show. “I was miserable,” he recalls. “We played the first one, and I remember I came off, got in the car, and just started crying because I was so disappointed.”

Styles’s solo shows at Wembley were a reunion of sorts: he had friends and family from all parts of his life and career in the audience on both nights. His mum, Anne Twist, sister Gemma, friends and his team all danced in the stands next to Wilde and her two young children. Even former bandmate Niall Horan swung by, smiling through ‘What Makes You Beautiful’.

As he’s become one of the world’s biggest pop stars, Styles’s need for privacy — for keeping that “naked baby” self out of the public eye — seems to have grown. Secrecy has helped to fend off constant questions about his sex life, the kind that were tossed his way as soon as he was of legal age.

“Everything in my life has felt like a bonus since X-Factor. Get on TV and sing. I never expected and never thought that would happen”

In the past couple of years, he started to go to therapy more routinely. “I committed to doing it once a week,” he explains. “I felt like I exercise every day and take care of my body, so why wouldn’t I do that with my mind?”

Through it, he started to process parts of himself he hadn’t figured out before. “So many of your emotions are so foreign before you start analysing them properly. I like to really lean into [an emotion] and look at it in the face. Not like, ‘I don’t want to feel like this,’ but more like, ‘What is it that makes me feel this way?’”

One feeling he needed to shed was shame, the kind of shame that comes from having your sex life scrutinised while you’re still just trying to make sense of it. Over the years, he learned to stop apologising for it. He learned he could be vulnerable in private while still protecting it from the public.

He’s found a vague balance through compartmentalisation. “I’ve never talked about my life away from work publicly and found that it’s benefited me positively,” he explains, perhaps preemptively. “There’s always going to be a version of a narrative, and I think I just decided I wasn’t going to spend the time trying to correct it or redirect it in some way.”

Drawing the curtain over his life has only made everyone who’s not behind it more curious. His sexuality, for example, has been a topic of near obsession for years. He has embraced gender fluidity in his fashion, like Mick Jagger and David Bowie before him, and has repeatedly pointed out how backward it feels to require labels and boxes for everyone’s identity. Critics of his approach have accused him of “queerbaiting” or profiting off queer aesthetics without explicitly claiming the community. Defenders feel it’s unfair to force anyone to label themselves as one thing in order to validate their gender or creative expression.

Styles, without prompting, points out how silly he finds some of the arguments about how he may identify to be: “Sometimes people say, ‘You’ve only publicly been with women,’ and I don’t think I’ve publicly been with anyone. If someone takes a picture of you with someone, it doesn’t mean you’re choosing to have a public relationship or something.”

Of late, this can be contested. While he is everywhere, so is Olivia Wilde. The pair met on the set of Don’t Worry Darling, which she directed (more on that in a moment), then made a splash when paparazzi snapped them holding hands at his manager and close friend Jeffrey Azoff’s wedding in January 2021.

Wilde and Styles have said little about the relationship, and rumours have filled the space. Anonymous tweeters acted appalled at their age difference (as if a 28-year-old man dating a 38-year-old woman isn’t completely normal) and criticised the director-actor dating dynamic (as if there isn’t a long history of beloved Hollywood couples meeting the same way).

More intense and jarring was a corner of Styles’s fandom that has made fun of Wilde’s dancing or made lengthy Twitter threads and TikTok videos cancelling her for bad or insensitive jokes made a decade ago. If Styles is already held up to a high standard, his potential partners are held to an unreachable one for some of his fans.

Styles is not the most online person — he uses Instagram to look at plants and architecture posts, has never had the TikTok app, and calls Twitter “a shitstorm of people trying to be awful to people” — but he’s still aware of how those small, toxic corners of the internet are treating the people closest to him. “That obviously doesn’t make me feel good,” he says, carefully. It’s a tightrope he’s treading in discussing this. He wants to — and does! — see the good in his fans, but there’s no denying that like every large online community, this one has a faction that runs on hate and anonymity.

Even with the boundaries he’s set between his public and private lives, sometimes “other people blur the lines for you”, he says. There’s a conversation he has to have early in a relationship, no matter how weird or premature it may feel. “Can you imagine,” he says, “going on a second date with someone and being like, ‘OK, there’s this corner of the thing, and they’re going to say this, and it’s going to be really crazy, and they’re going to be really mean, and it’s not real…. But anyway, what do you want to eat?’”

“Everyone, including myself, has your own journey with figuring out sexuality and getting more comfortable with it”

While Styles takes comfort in knowing his whole fandom is not like that, he still wonders about how to respond when the noise gets too loud. “It’s obviously a difficult feeling to feel like being close to me means you’re at the ransom of a corner of Twitter or something,” he says. “I just wanted to sing. I didn’t want to get into it if I was going to hurt people like that.”

When asked about her experience with his fans, Wilde is diplomatic. Like Styles, she believes in what they stand for as a collective, calling them “deeply loving people” who have fostered an accepting community. “What I don’t understand about the cruelty you’re referencing is that that kind of toxic negativity is the antithesis of Harry, and everything he puts out there,” she tells me. “I don’t personally believe the hateful energy defines his fan base at all. The majority of them are true champions of kindness.”

Styles became a leading man when he was four years old, starring in a play called Barney the Church Man. Later, he transformed into Buzz Lightyear in a production of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang “because Buzz Lightyear was in the toy shop for some reason”. His other early theatre credits include: Razamatazz in Bugsy Malone (“the band leader”) and the Elvis-inspired Pharaoh in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. (He would later audition for Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis, but was deemed too iconic by the director.)

But as Styles was preparing the release of his solo debut in 2017, he took his first foray back into acting, with a supporting role in Christopher Nolan’s war epic, Dunkirk. (The director said he had no idea how famous Styles was when he cast him.) By the time Marvel recruited him to become Eros, director Chloé Zhao had no one else but Styles in mind for the role. Thanos’s more heroic brother is portrayed in the comics as an intergalactic playboy of sorts, with superhuman strength and the ability to control people’s emotions (a fitting role for the planet’s hottest pop star). MCU boss Kevin Feige recently teased more from Styles, though so far, his only appearance has been the Eternals’ post-credits scene, alongside the Patton Oswalt-voiced Pip. “It’d be funny if that was it, wouldn’t it?” he jokes of his cameo.

Styles’s role in Dunkirk grabbed Wilde’s attention as she was beginning to map out Don’t Worry Darling. He was an early contender for the role of Jack, a charming but secretive husband to Florence Pugh’s increasingly troubled Alice. And Styles had plenty of reasons to be interested in Don’t Worry Darling. Wilde’s second feature film as a director reportedly started a bidding war among 18 studios, following the success of her directorial debut, Booksmart.

Pre-pandemic talks between Styles and the Darling team didn’t make it far; he was, after all, due on a global tour for most of 2020. Instead, Shia LaBeouf won the role, but by the end of that summer, Wilde had reportedly booted the actor for poor on-set behaviour.

“I’d wanted to act again,” Styles says. He spent a lot of the pandemic watching movies with his quarantine set of friends and collaborators: he rescreened favourites like the 2012 Belgian drama The Broken Circle Breakdown. Some nights, he and his friends would put a bunch of titles in a hat and choose. (“There was a couple different tastes in the house, so it was between, like, Parasite and Coyote Ugly.”)

Styles was announced as LaBeouf’s replacement a month before filming began. He proved perfect for the role of Jack, who’s brought Alice to the remote, fictional American town of Victory to work on a secret project the men at the company won’t tell their wives about. Jack’s become a star employee and is desperate for his boss’s approval. “We were looking for someone with innate warmth and palpable charm,” Wilde says. “The entire story depended on the audience believing in Jack.”

At the start, he was understandably anxious about taking on such a large role alongside stars like Pugh, Chris Pine, Gemma Chan and Nick Kroll. “In music, there’s such an immediate response to what you do. You finish a song and people clap,” he says. “When you’re filming and they say ‘Cut,’ there’s maybe part of you that expects everyone to start clapping, [but] they don’t. Everyone, obviously, goes back to doing their jobs, and you’re like, ‘Oh, shit, was it that bad?’” (Being an actor reminded him of session musicians: “You get called in to do your bit, and then someone else puts it all together and makes it.”)

The risk may pay off: he and Pugh are already getting awards season buzz. Wilde says one moment “left us all in tears” — Jack’s promotion scene during a big company gala. “It’s a strange scene, full of fascist references, and a disturbing amount of male rage,” Wilde says. “The scene called for him to stand onstage with Frank (Chris Pine) and chant their creepy slogan, ‘Whose world is it? Ours!’ over and over again. Dark as hell. But Harry took it to another level. He was so fully in the moment, he began screaming the lines to the crowd, in this primal roar, that was way more intense than anything we expected from the scene.”

According to Wilde, Pine backed away, understanding this was Harry’s moment. “The camera operator followed him as he paced around the stage like a kind of wild animal,” Wilde remembers. “We were all gobsmacked at the monitor. I think even Harry was surprised by it. Those are the best moments for an actor — when you’re completely outside your body.”

Within weeks, Styles went from the set of Darling to shooting the more intimate My Policeman. He had read the script the year prior, moved by the story enough to have contacted director Michael Grandage and request a meeting. Styles showed up with every line memorised.

Styles plays Tom, a policeman who develops feelings for a museum curator named Patrick (David Dawson). Set in the 50s, when it was still illegal to be in a same-sex relationship in the UK, the pair move in secret while Tom pursues a marriage with a schoolteacher named Marion (Emma Corrin). The film shifts between the past and the present, when the three reunite under dire circumstances. “It’s obviously pretty unfathomable now to think, ‘Oh, you couldn’t be gay. That was illegal,’” Styles says. “I think everyone, including myself, has your own journey with figuring out sexuality and getting more comfortable with it.” To him, My Policeman is a very human story. “It’s not like, ‘This is a gay story about these guys being gay.’ It’s about love and about wasted time to me.”

According to Styles, Grandage wanted to highlight what sex is really like between two men in the scenes between Tom and Patrick. “So much of gay sex in film is two guys going at it, and it kind of removes the tenderness from it,” Styles continues. “There will be, I would imagine, some people who watch it who were very much alive during this time when it was illegal to be gay, and [Michael] wanted to show that it’s tender and loving and sensitive.”

Darling and Policeman make their big premieres at prestigious film festivals in Venice and Toronto late this summer, but Styles isn’t sure his pivot to the silver screen will be permanent. “I don’t imagine I’d do a movie for a while,” he says. There are rumours about how many Marvel movies he’s signed on for and other franchises he might be secretly in talks to do. (In response to a rumour he’ll be starring in a future Star Wars series, he says, “That’s the first I’ve heard of that. I’d imagine… false.”)

Like a true tousled-haired prince, Styles invites me to attend a concert with him by the philharmonic in Hamburg, eight hours before his own show.

On past tours, he says, “I was getting to a lot of cities and feeling like ‘I’ve been here six times and I’ve never seen any of it.’” This tour, he’s been taking in a lot of architecture. “It’s something I can do on my own, just sit somewhere and look at stuff,” he says.

Studying the finer points of buildings fits the regimented, disciplined and distinctly grown-up tour life he’s created. Styles has found himself enamoured with routine on the road: 10 hours of sleep a night, IV injections pumping him with nutrients and vitamins, a strict acid-reflux-conscious diet that cuts out coffee, alcohol and certain foods that affect the throat 50,000 fans are depending on. Last night, he slept with two humidifiers that apparently made it look like he was stepping out of a steam room when he opened his hotel room door.

The Elbphilharmonie Hamburg — “Elphi” for short — is a striking structure, looking something like a gorgeous sail. Styles is wearing the same outfit as when I met him in the hotel the day before, only with shorts swapped out for pinstripe pants and a surgical mask covering his face. He and I are both late and can’t be let into the show until intermission, so instead we comb through the backstage hallways and elevators to see rooms built for incredible acoustics and sweeping views of Hamburg. He marvels at all of it. In a temperature controlled room full of pianos, he asks our tour guide which is the best (“Is there a shining star?”) before sitting down at one and playing for a couple of dreamy, Beatlesque minutes. (He’d mentioned earlier that he spent last summer playing piano every day with his morning coffee.) He has questions about panelling. And like a true tourist, he takes pictures of everything.

The first time I ever met Styles was a lot like this. On his first headlining tour, in San Francisco in 2017, I went backstage to interview Kid Harpoon. Styles stumbled into the room where I was waiting, strolling around less like a headliner with fans lined up around the block and more like the lighting guy. Here was someone who is inexplicably difficult to casually enjoy (you watch one video of One Direction’s funniest interview moments on YouTube and suddenly you’re contemplating how many of their cardboard cutouts you can fit in your dorm) acting so casually. He greeted me then like an old friend, not someone who was still refusing to let go of a One Direction keychain at the time. He asked me how I had been, what I was up to in San Francisco, and if I was excited for the show. Of course I remember every second of it.

Styles has a gift for making those in his presence feel seen. Just ask fans who bump into him on walks through Central Park or Hampstead Heath, then detail those moments as if they had met the pope (granted, the pope could never pull off a hair claw).

Before the second half of the concert at the Elphi, the crowd mingles and grabs drinks. As we walk through, Styles goes unnoticed. (The mask helps.) It’s funny to watch one of the world’s biggest pop stars move through space with such ease, as if he’s blissfully unaware of how well-known he is.

“If you make your life about the fact that you can’t go anywhere and everything has to be a big deal, then that’s what your life becomes,” he says. “Now, in London, I walk everywhere. It’s hard to stumble across things and restaurants and places and stuff if you’re just driving everywhere, and it’s just not that fun.”

Styles outlines his upcoming months for me: in August, after he wraps his European tour in Lisbon, he’ll go on holiday with some friends, maybe catch up on the Love Island season he was “gutted” to miss, or see if The Bear is as good as everyone tells him it is. The next leg of his tour includes stops in LA, New York, Austin and Chicago as extended residencies, a decision that meets his personal need for a less strenuous touring schedule and a professional need to be able to attend film festivals and rent studios to write and record music for his fourth album. “I’m always writing,” he says. He and his collaborators are already throwing around ideas. “I think all of us are so excited to get back to it, which feels insane because we’ve just put an album out.”

“What I value the most from my friends is I’m reminded that it’s OK to be flawed. I’m pretty messy and make mistakes sometimes”

More than ever, he is thinking about the future. He wants to take meaningful time off at some point — from touring at least, he’s always writing — and ensure he’s a more present figure for his family and friends. In turn, he’s learned to define what real love looks like to him. “The fantasy, or the vision, or the version of you that people can build you up to be feels like a person that isn’t flawed,” he explains. “What I value the most from my friends is I feel like I’m constantly reminded that it’s OK to be flawed. I think I’m pretty messy and make mistakes sometimes. I think that’s the most loving thing: you can see someone’s imperfections, and it’s not [that you] love them in spite of that, but it’s [that you] love them with that.”

He’s thinking about what he wants to say, too. Styles admits he was uninterested in politics as a teenager, oblivious to things that didn’t personally affect him. But as he grew more famous, he worried about that, too. “I took a massive look at myself,” he says, “and was like, ‘Oh, I don’t do enough… or anything.” When conversations around anti-Blackness and inaction reached a fever pitch in 2020, Styles marched in the streets and read books like How to Be an Antiracist, by Ibram X. Kendi, and The Will to Change, by bell hooks. He started thinking about racial and gender equity, especially as someone who employs many people on the road. “Pretending as a white person you don’t get a head start just isn’t true,” he says.

We were hanging out right after Roe v. Wade had been overturned in America. “I can’t begin to imagine how terrifying it is to be a woman in America at the moment,” he says. He’ll grab a fan’s sign that reads “My Body, My Choice” at the Hamburg show, displaying it proudly onstage. There’s an energy in the crowds that fills him with careful optimism. “I feel lucky to see a group of people, even just on this tour, who come together in a way,” he says. “I think that group of people is so much less afraid of opening the wound, talking about it, and doing the work, than the generation before us.”

As we wait for the philharmonic’s packed show to restart, I notice a few young girls with their families in the audience and ask Styles what he thinks the crossover between this crowd and his show tonight will be. He looks around at the mostly older faces and goes, “Less than one per cent… I know I’ll be at both.”

Styles watches the orchestra studiously. When the conductor leaves and then returns to a standing ovation, Styles whispers, “He’s about to play his big hit.” Even when he’s not peacocking in front of 50,000, he’s still trying to entertain the one person he’s with.

We walk out before the crowd fully disperses. Styles lingers a second to take some photos of the room before he heads out to get ready for his concert, where he’ll bounce around the stage, lifted by the wails of young fans who have been waiting years for this moment.

His fans will linger tonight, too, crowding in the hundreds outside Volksparkstadion. They’ll take photos of their outfits, their tear- and sweat-stained glittery faces, the piles of abandoned boa feathers. They’ll play his big hits back to him, holding a phone light vigil as they sing One Direction’s ‘Night Changes’ or the Fine Line ballad ‘Falling’. As the city echoes as much of him as it can take, he’ll probably be washing it all away.

#harry styles #harry update #rolling stone #article #august 2022

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ash-and-books · 26 days

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Rating: 5/5

Book Blurb: It’s hate-at-first-sight when a jilted Irish chef returns home to Inishmore and immediately clashes with a mouthy American tourist. This steamy romance novel by New York Times bestselling author Amy Ewing is perfect for fans of Abby Jimenez and Tessa Bailey.

Cordelia James was once at the top of her game—a renowned street photographer with a massive social media following, gallery showings in Chelsea, and a lucrative book deal. But after the sudden death of her father, Cordelia can barely force herself to leave her apartment. That is, until she sees an ad for a summer gig at a cozy cottage on Ireland’s picturesque Inishmore island. Cordelia is on a plane before she can talk herself out of it.

The moment she steps off the boat, she crashes—literally—into Niall O’Connor, a grumpy local who’s just returned home to Inishmore from Dublin. Niall is nursing a broken heart and trying to patch up a broken life, and he has no time for posh American tourists. The more Cordelia’s and Niall’s paths cross, the more they make each other’s lives hell. But as with all rivalries, their hatred is about to reach a tipping point—and it’s going to heat up their cool coastal nights.

Featuring a lovable band of quirky supporting characters, The Irish Goodbye is a steamy, emotionally gripping tale of love, passion, art, food, and finding where you belong.

Review:

A photographer dealing with grief, looks to find inspiration by renting a cottage in Ireland... only to encounter a recently jilted grumpy Irish chef and sparks fly. Cordelia James was a renowned street photographer with everything going for her: a large following, gallery showings in New York, and a book deal... but the sudden death of her father leaves her struggling to even leave her apartment. Cordelia has been grieving for two years and decides that she's going to get out of her apartment, she sees an ad for a summer job at a cozy cottage on Ireland's picturesque Inishmore island and instantly buys a ticket. The moment she steps off the boat she crashes (literally) into Niall O'Connor, a grumpy local who has returned from Dublin after finding his fiancee sleeping with his business partner in the restaurant he was planning on opening. Niall and Cordelia immediately get off on the wrong foot but can't avoid each other as it's a small island and everyone knows everyone. Yet as they spend more time together on the cozy island filled with sweet characters, they begin to heal and fall in love... but Cordelia is only meant to stay for three months... how will their relationship work after her time is up? This was such a sweet and fun read, it gave me Leap Year (movie) vibes and I adored it. The romance was really sweet and fun and I loved that both of these characters were healing and found comfort in each other. The island itself and the community was amazing and so sweet. This book was just a feel good book with a bit of spice *wink wink*. I would absolutely recommend it!

*Thanks Netgalley and Alcove Press for sending me an arc in exchange for an honest review*

#book review #boookish #the irish goodbye

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rockislandadultreads · 10 months

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Read-Alike Friday: The First Ladies

The First Ladies by Marie Benedict & Victoria Christopher Murray

The daughter of formerly enslaved parents, Mary McLeod Bethune refuses to back down as white supremacists attempt to thwart her work. She marches on as an activist and an educator, and as her reputation grows she becomes a celebrity, revered by titans of business and recognized by U.S. Presidents. Eleanor Roosevelt herself is awestruck and eager to make her acquaintance. Initially drawn together because of their shared belief in women’s rights and the power of education, Mary and Eleanor become fast friends confiding their secrets, hopes and dreams—and holding each other’s hands through tragedy and triumph.

When Franklin Delano Roosevelt is elected president, the two women begin to collaborate more closely, particularly as Eleanor moves toward her own agenda separate from FDR, a consequence of the devastating discovery of her husband’s secret love affair. Eleanor becomes a controversial First Lady for her outspokenness, particularly on civil rights. And when she receives threats because of her strong ties to Mary, it only fuels the women’s desire to fight together for justice and equality.

This is the story of two different, yet equally formidable, passionate, and committed women, and the way in which their singular friendship helped form the foundation for the modern civil rights movement.

The Thread Collectors by Shaunna J. Edwards & Alyson Richman

1863: In a small Creole cottage in New Orleans, an ingenious young Black woman named Stella embroiders intricate maps on repurposed cloth to help enslaved men flee and join the Union Army. Bound to a man who would kill her if he knew of her clandestine activities, Stella has to hide not only her efforts but her love for William, a Black soldier and a brilliant musician.

Meanwhile, in New York City, a Jewish woman stitches a quilt for her husband, who is stationed in Louisiana with the Union Army. Between abolitionist meetings, Lily rolls bandages and crafts quilts with her sewing circle for other soldiers, too, hoping for their safe return home. But when months go by without word from her husband, Lily resolves to make the perilous journey South to search for him.

As these two women risk everything for love and freedom during the brutal Civil War, their paths converge in New Orleans, where an unexpected encounter leads them to discover that even the most delicate threads have the capacity to save us. Loosely inspired by the authors' family histories, this stunning novel will stay with readers for a long time.

The Women's March by Jennifer Chiaverini

Twenty-five-year-old Alice Paul returns to her native New Jersey after several years on the front lines of the suffrage movement in Great Britain. Weakened from imprisonment and hunger strikes, she is nevertheless determined to invigorate the stagnant suffrage movement in her homeland. Nine states have already granted women voting rights, but only a constitutional amendment will secure the vote for all. To inspire support for the campaign, Alice organizes a magnificent procession down Pennsylvania Avenue in Washington, DC, the day before the inauguration of President-elect Woodrow Wilson, a firm antisuffragist.

Joining the march is thirty-nine-year-old New Yorker Maud Malone, librarian and advocate for women’s and workers’ rights. The daughter of Irish immigrants, Maud has acquired a reputation—and a criminal record—for interrupting politicians’ speeches with pointed questions they’d rather ignore.

Civil rights activist and journalist Ida B. Wells-Barnett resolves that women of color must also be included in the march—and the proposed amendment. Born into slavery in Mississippi, Ida worries that white suffragists may exclude Black women if it serves their own interests. On March 3, 1913, the glorious march commences, but negligent police allow vast crowds of belligerent men to block the parade route—jeering, shouting threats, assaulting the marchers—endangering not only the success of the demonstration but the women’s very lives.

Inspired by actual events, The Women’s March offers a fascinating account of a crucial but little-remembered moment in American history, a turning point in the struggle for women’s rights.

Undiscovered Country by Kelly O'Connor McNees

In 1932, New York City, top reporter Lorena “Hick” Hickok starts each day with a front page byline―and finishes it swigging bourbon and planning her next big scoop.

But an assignment to cover FDR’s campaign―and write a feature on his wife, Eleanor―turns Hick’s hard-won independent life on its ear. Soon her work, and the secret entanglement with the new first lady, will take her from New York and Washington to Scotts Run, West Virginia, where impoverished coal miners’ families wait in fear that the New Deal’s promised hope will pass them by. Together, Eleanor and Hick imagine how the new town of Arthurdale could change the fate of hundreds of lives. But doing what is right does not come cheap, and Hick will pay in ways she never could have imagined.

Undiscovered Country artfully mixes fact and fiction to portray the intense relationship between this unlikely pair. Inspired by the historical record, including the more than three thousand letters Hick and Eleanor exchanged over a span of thirty years, McNees tells this story through Hick’s tough, tender, and unforgettable voice. A remarkable portrait of Depression-era America, this novel tells the poignant story of how a love that was forced to remain hidden nevertheless changed history.

#historical fiction #fiction #library books #readalikes #reading recommendations #reading recs #book recommendations #book recs #to read #tbr #tbrpile #booklr #book tumblr #book blog #library blog

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denimbex1986 · 3 months

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'Oppenheimer star Cillian Murphy has praised his compatriot Paul Mescal, labelling the Irish actor the “real deal”.

At the upcoming Baftas, set to take place at London’s Royal Festival Hall on February 18th, both figures are nominated. Mescal is shortlisted for ‘Best Supporting Actor’ for his role in All of Us Strangers opposite Andrew Scott, meanwhile, Murphy is up for ‘Best Leading Actor’ thanks to his performance in Oppenheimer.

While the two actors are yet to work together on a project, Murphy has thrown his support behind Mescal, who, later this year, is set to star in Ridley Scott’s upcoming blockbuster Gladiator 2.

During an interview with British GQ, while Murphy was walking past Trinity College in Dublin, where Mescal filmed Normal People, he said “He is the real deal. He is like a true movie star. They don’t come along that often. But luckily, they seem mostly to come from Ireland.”...

For his starring role in Oppenheimer, Murphy is also nominated for ‘Best Actor’ at the Academy Awards, marking his first Oscar nomination.

Reacting to the news of his nod, Murphy previously said: “I don’t think you would have believed it or seen it as a possibility or anything like that; I just wanted to make theatre and make good theatre, and then you do a small part in a short film and then a small part in a film — we’ve talked about this really gradual process and I think that’s why I’m able to deal with it and able to enjoy it.”

The actor continued: “I’m like 48 and I’ve seen a lot and been doing it for 28 years now so I think I can understand how significant it is to me and how meaningful it is to me and to other people… You know, it’s been a long time in the business. I think as a youngster, it just didn’t seem a possibility anything like this.”'

#Cillian Murphy #Oscars #BAFTAs #Paul Mescal #Andrew Scott #All of Us Strangers #Oppenheimer #Gladiator 2 #Normal People

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ariadnewhitlock · 10 months

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A Cup of Stars || Meera & Ariadne

TIMING: Current-ish, early this week LOCATION: Best Exotic Herbal Tea PARTIES: Meera @the-haunteang and Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock SUMMARY: Ariadne goes to explore the tea shop, and she and Meera talk. Ariadne tells Meera that she wants to take friends to the tea shop. It's soft. CONTENT WARNING: None

“Good morning!” Meera cheerfully greeted the woman that just entered her family shop, with a warm smile and an excited wave. The Best Exotic Herbal Tea Shop was supposedly one of the oldest businesses in the town of Wicked’s Rest, though its current owner, Meera, hadn’t really bothered to verify that information. To her, it was good enough that her grandmother had always spoken about it, included it in their age-old catalogs, and no one else has disputed the fact.

The Ghazi siblings, who usually manned the counter, were currently busy with other customers, so it was up to the usually reserved Meera to try and do her best not to get distracted by the ghost of a random relative just staring at her from the door, slightly behind the other woman. Years ago, it would have been quite the most jarring of sights. These days, however, she was getting used to it. “How can I help you?”

Having more than one place to go and get tea wasn’t a bad thing, by any means. Supporting local shops was important - a belief that Ariadne had all on her own, but one that was certainly aided by the fact that her family had a business of their own that relied on support from the town in order for it to be successful.

“I - what is your favorite tea to get?” Ariadne glanced up at the listing. “I’m big on tea - not like, an expert, I just like how it tastes, and I also like to listen to what others have to say.” She gave a small huff. “So. Yeah. Are you able to give me recommendations? If that’s asking too much, just tell me. I don’t want to be a bother.”

“Me, personally?” Meera was caught offguard by the question. She had been asked the same thing, of course, countless of times before, but it always catches her offguard. It was the same kind of question as when someone asks a mother who their favorite child was. Meera couldn’t choose. All her life, she had known tea, a lot of them, perhaps more than any one person should, but in her defense, her family was in the business. “I guess it depends on the time of day and the mood I’m in, but nothing can beat Assam or Darjeeling for me.”

Of course, she’d choose those two. They were from home, a part of her life she had barely known, she could no longer go back to for fear of the thousands and hundreds of dead relatives that would swarm her as soon as she stepped foot in that continent. There were already too many for her to handle in this part of the world. Meera shook her head, mustering enough strength to retain her smile, before continuing. “It’s not a bother, not at all, but I suppose we can start with what tea have you had recently and if you’d like to try something new?”

“Yes - you’re the expert.” Ariadne sighed, “I didn’t - it’s also okay if you don’t want to tell me, but both of those teas sound wonderful.” There was something enchanting about getting to talk to someone who was such an expert at something so beautiful, and she regretted not having been to the shop many times before.

“I had rooibos last night, and also a chamomile. This morning I had Irish Breakfast, I think?” Ariadne thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Yes, that. I will admit I am fond of making teas quite sweet - but I do genuinely like the flavor too. But yes, I think I might like to try something new - or at least - well, yeah, actually - up for trying basically anything.”

Meera found the sigh a little discomforting. Although she tried her best not to show it, she was taken aback by the response. Was it something she said? Before she could ask that very question, she found a different ghostly relative staring at the customer, appearing right behind her. He didn’t make any sound, didn’t move their graying lips, only stared with those large empty eyes. Feigning a cough, Meera did her best not to focus on the ghost. They were neither buying nor selling anything. “O-oh, I wouldn’t call myself an expert,” she went on. “We do actually have one but they’re out at the moment.”

Wherever those two were, Meera didn’t want to know. The pair of so-called experts had been working for her mother before she passed and maybe even for her grandmother and her grandmother’s mother. She wasn’t quite sure about that part. But they were full of knowledge about teas, far more than Meera herself could ever hope to have. She knew her chamomiles and lavenders, Assams and Ceylons, but those guys were on another level.

“Oh, well, in that case,” Meera turned her back to the customer to browse the shelf on the wall, which contained a selection of different teas. When she turned to Ariadne again, she held in her hands two different boxes. “Some teas ARE sweeter than others, so maybe you’d like to try some pandan leaf tea or star anise tea?”

She could see, for only a moment, an expression of unease wash over the woman’s face. Even though she hadn’t done anything to scare her, Ariadne couldn’t help but feel at fault. “I - sorry, I’ve just never met someone so wonderfully dedicated to tea before, and I think that surprised me.” She plastered a smile on her face, doing her best to force herself to relax, as much as was possible. “That’s totally fine, I’d probably be like, super unimpressive to them, anyhow.” She offered the other woman a small smile.

“I’d love either of those.” Her smile grew, “could - yeah, I’d even take both, if you wanted?” Ariadne nodded, “though not at the same time, I don’t know if that would work out so well.” She tapped her fingers on the countertop for a moment, before stopping, worrying that it would only draw that same expression of unease that her sigh had, earlier.

“Oh,” came Meera’s meek reply. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of the apology. Although she took the compliment as a, well, compliment, Meera has never been good at actually stating the obvious when it came down to it. Like, what was she even supposed to say? Thank you? She felt that was not enough to express how much she appreciated the customer’s sentiment, but at the same time, just saying it out loud, as is, felt like too much, too. “I don’t know… You’re…pretty…impressive to me.” What.

Meera feigned a cough, trying her best to move past that weird reply from herself, though she stumbled a few more times, unsure how to actually do that and whether she could even do that. “Tell you what, since it’s your first time here,” she did look too young to be an old customer, and if she’d been around, Meera would have remembered her…right? “Why don’t I give you 50% off on both? That way, it wouldn’t be too much of a waste if you end up not liking them!” Maybe this was why Meera wasn’t doing better business than usual, though to be fair, she was never a good businesswoman to begin with anyway.

“I’m really not too impressive but, uh, thank you?” Ariadne squeezed her eyes shut. This whole encounter was something she wanted to apologize for. She’d invaded the woman’s space (even if it was a shop, technically) and hadn’t done anything to make her feel more at ease. If anything, she just seemed to keep making it worse.

“I - really? I’d love that, but that’s really a lot of you to offer, to a stranger. So how about, if I do like them, I pay you what I’d owe you?” Ariadne suggested. “It feels like theft or something, otherwise, but if you want to give me the discount, you can.”

Meera gave her a fervent nod with a warm smile to boot not unlike that of a child that just got patted on the head for acing a test that was more important to their parent. It wasn’t a familiar state of being for the tea shop owner, as it had been her childhood. To be fair, however, her mother just wanted to ensure her survival, all things considered. It was hard enough to raise a child on her own in an unfamiliar place, but to raise a child who could see their dead relatives while their dead relatives kept stalking them? It was too much, something that was now akin to a nightmare for Meera herself.

“That’s okay with me, too,” Meera tried her best to make the young woman more comfortable than she seemed. “Whatever feels right for you.”

She wanted to argue about that statement regarding the theft but felt unprepared to do so. What did Meera even know about theft? She’s been hauntingly sheltered all her life, trapped in the walls of her family’s overbearing tradition. The tea shop’s walls even felt like they were designed to keep her in. She did not have any cause to resort to thievery, not even a hint of desperation or curiosity. That and a dead relative was always watching. That was more stressful to her than getting thrown in jail for stealing a piece of gum. “Would you like anything else?”

“I just like to be honest and kind whenever possible, and I wouldn’t want to cheat you out of anything is all.” Ariadne sighed. She wanted the woman to like her, except she got the feeling that perhaps she was trying too hard. That perhaps all the effort that went into reassuring the woman was actually making her more hesitant about Ariadne. She did her best not to focus on that too much, and to instead focus herself on the tea. Which was, after all, the original point of her outing. Not totally embarrassing herself around someone cool would have just been a nice bonus.

“Do you have any cookies or cakes? I’ll pay for those too, I promise!” Ariadne squeaked, “but the tea all on its own is also perfect. Better than perfect, even.” Okay, now even she could tell that she was trying too hard. She took a deep breath. “I like it here. I might bring a friend of mine sometime. I think they’d like it too.”

“That’s fair,” Meera gave the young woman a warm smile. She was pleased at that response. Although she did like handing out discounts like there was no tomorrow, which most likely meant that she wasn’t that great of a businesswoman compared to her late mother and late grandmother, Ariadne’s words felt genuine. Or at least genuine enough to make her feel better even if her most generous offer was denied. “You’re a nice person.”

Usually, when someone declined Meera’s offer, it was because they wanted something else. Or they felt like too proud to accept what they felt was a ‘handout.’ That wasn’t always the case, though. She was sure of that. But it did feel like that most of the time. It wasn’t like she was a mind reader to know what people really thought. She was something else. A ghost watcher. Something like that.

“Hmm, well, we do have something back there,” Meera moved toward the part of the counter to the side that had some pastries left on display. There used to be more over there, at least more earlier, but other customers have purchased them. What were left weren’t the usual kinds of pastries one would find at a bakery, most of all a tea shop. They were Indian pastries. From her father’s side of the family. Things she didn’t even have on a daily basis while she was growing up. “Oh, we still have a few Dharwad peda and Mysore pak! The peda is made with sugar and buffalo milk while the pak a buttery and dense cookie prepared in ghee. Dharwad and Mysore are places in India.” After the brief summary, she offered her a piece each to taste.

The woman was actually smiling now, which did a wonder for Ariadne’s nerves. Of course, she was practically positive that nothing could make them go away entirely, but any sort of lessening was more than welcome. “You’re a nice person too.” She offered her a small smile. “I just figure there’s not really ever a point to not being nice, really.”

She’d been raised to not take too much for granted - to be grateful - and Ariadne was, easily so, perhaps absurdly easily so sometimes - but she also knew that along with that came necessary respect, and it seemed overdue here, especially if the woman was out and about offering discounts to nearly everyone who entered the store. Not that she was rich - she never had been, but she believed very much in giving what was deserved.

“Those both sound amazing,” Ariadne took a small piece of each, taking care to chew each slowly, “and they both are amazing. This time I think I’ll go with the Dharward peda - which I hope I didn’t completely mess up the pronunciation of, but something advertised as having sugar is pretty much always gonna win me over.”

No point in not being nice… Those words reverberated in Meera’s head as her smile never left her lips. Truly the same words she has tried to live by, all things considered. To be fair, Meera had never encountered any reason, or point, to not be nice to someone, anyone at all, but that was mostly because she usually spent her days within the walls of her family’s tea shop.

Maybe if she had time to go out, mix and mingle, Meera could find a reason, a point, to not be nice to someone, maybe one of those Internet goblins in person. “Why, thank you! That’s so…nice of you to say!” She beamed, thinking she was so witty for that play on words.

“Oh, don’t worry about it! New words in new languages of new cultures can take some learning,” Meera gracefully rang the additional purchase after leaving the two samples with the young woman, having gestured for her to finish them or just leave them there if she couldn’t. Forcing someone to do either was a bad habit everyone tends to mistake as a good one. People should have the freedom to decline offers and kind gestures and what-not. “Here you go! Enjoy them together!”

“Thank you.” Ariadne offered her another small smile. “It’s - I appreciate the pun. Joke? Whatever you just did.” Again, there wasn’t anything but complete and total honesty, even if she wasn’t totally sure she was making anything other than a fool of herself, but right now she wasn’t going to focus on that.

“I just wouldn’t want to sound ignorant or anything,” Ariadne bit her lip, “but thanks.” She took another bite of the sample, the taste something incredibly satisfying. “Oh - really? Together? I promise I don’t always repeat things quite this much, but uh…” her voice trailed off. “Anyhow, these are both wonderful. Is - I have a friend, who I might want to bring here, sometime. Would that be okay?”

Meera didn’t know what it was either. Was it a pun? She wouldn’t necessarily chuck it in the same company as ‘dad jokes.’ Those were mostly puns, weren’t they? Was it a joke? Sort of? She wanted it to come off as at least humorous but there was no set-up, at least nothing that wasn’t just recycled into it, and no hilarious punchline. Basically, she just repeated what Ariadne had said for the most part. Either way, though, she was just glad it was appreciated, so to speak, and she acknowledged that a polite smile and a brief nod.

“Together,” Meera nodded again, gesturing toward the purchase. “They do taste great together, but of course, feel free to take them separately or with others that may be more suitable to your taste and preference. Dharward peda should go well with any tea.” At least she hoped. Truth be told, Meera hadn’t tried it with all the teas. There were far too many possible combinations out there, and she hadn’t even tried all the teas that existed. “Yes! That would be lovely! Bring everyone! All your friends. We’d love to meet them and share our love of teas with your friends and family!”

“You know so much.” Ariadne said, eyes wide, truly in awe. “I’m for sure gonna come back.” There was no reason not to, with the drinks and good being as good as they were, and with the women being so endlessly kind and accommodating. “I don’t - well, I don’t have a lot of friends, but I can bring the ones I do have, promise!”

She took another bite of her dessert and a sip of the tea. “These are perfect.” Another nod. “You know, I’m really glad I came here.”

#wickedswriting #a cup of stars #chatzy #writing #c meera #// meera and dee are both perfect!!#i loved this thread so much :') it's really soft and i can't wait to write more with these two

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