"how come we've never spoken before?" x noel gallagher

why haven't I written anything for noel in ages??????? anyways this was so cute I hope u lot like it <33

Pairing: 1990! noel gallagher x reader

Warnings: none :)

Word count: 1.951

Requested by anon x

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“You wanna come over tonight?” Liam asked me as we were walking out of the sixth form building. “Our kids coming to pick us up so was wondering if you wanted to come with.”

“Yeah alright.” I nodded, linking my arm with Liam as we walked out of the gates together. Going over to the Gallagher residence wasn’t an uncommon matter, if anything I was over at theirs at least once a week. Since their father had left the environment was always pleasant, his mum always cooking the best, most delicious meals which caused your body to crave it again each and every day until you returned back for dinner once again. As well as that, being able to spend time with Liam was always an enjoyable experience - him being my best friend since first joining the college, we hadn’t been able to separate ourselves from each other since. Of course, we would have different friends, different groups, but we always turned back to each other - something that I adored most about our relationship; we didn’t constantly need to be with one another to consider each other our best friend. Whenever I was over we would relax in his room, talking about practically everything and everything, sometimes smoking a joint by his window to prevent his mum finding out, even though the stench of it would stick to our clothes like glue - giving it away instantaneously.

After exiting the school gates, we walked for a bit until we reached the nearest neighbourhood of houses, where Noel said he would pick Liam up. To waste the time, Liam brought out a spliff from his pocket, placing it between his lips, then lighting it, him failing a couple times to get the lighter to produce a flame. “Give me a hit,” I said, watching Liam as he quickly inhaled the roll of weed, then passing it to me, a wave of smoke hitting my face from Liam’s mouth. “Stop that you twat.”

There was hardly anybody outside, from the look of the area, merely just the occasional car whizzing past us, causing the empyrean of smoke discarded from our throats to diffuse into the atmosphere. It produced a clear contrast against the skies, which had little to no clouds visible at all. Having a clear, sunny day in Manchester wasn’t something ordinary; it was a rarity, but for the past year the weather had been brilliant, though brilliant becomes unlivable when the temperature continues to increase to the thirties, celsius wise. That’s when the nature of constant traffic, crowded streets and lengthy queues at the ice cream machine disperse into their homes - the sun being too strong it becomes a chore to leave the house. Having the world so silent, hushed, brings another kind of tranquillity to the mind. Watching an inanimate street fixated in the same position, as if it were a ghost-town, encompasses that feeling of being the only person present in the world at that moment, which makes you realise that the life you live is not lead to be controlled of dictated by others - it is yours, and it is something in which you hold complete control over.

After a couple minutes of small talk shared between me and Liam, a small car drove past us, stopping promptly as the windows rolled down, indicating that it was Noel. Me and Liam quickly rushed out of the sun that was beaming down at us, to get inside his car; Liam hopping in the passenger seat next to his brother whilst I occupied the middle seat in the back. “Hi Noel.” I said softly, smiling at him through the rear view mirror, our eyes connecting for a short second whilst he greeted me back, then turning to greet Liam before taking off. Mine and Noel’s relationship wasn’t anything special: we spoke here and there, but since he usually was occupied by hanging out with friends, or travelling as a groupie for Inspiral Carpets, we never conversed much. It was a mere relationship formulated from my closeness with Liam, as manners are important - even if Liam shows the opposite. I was quite intrigued by Noel disregarding his conventional absences; he seemed to lead a life which was exciting and alluring, and was a complete contrast against Liam’s persona from what I had noticed. Liam was more into sports, mainly football, and causing havoc wherever he could (me constantly joining him since he knew how to have an absolute good time), whilst Noel seemed completely consumed by music and the wonders of working with bands. Regardless, they shared some idiosyncrasies, one thing in particular definitely being their love for weed.

Once we arrived at the house, we were greeted by Liam’s mum, who welcomed me in lovingly. “Always a pleasure to have you over, Y/N,” she said as I broke away from the embrace we shared to allow me to take off my shoes. “Liam, I'm going to need you to help me in the kitchen today.” she then said to Liam, whose face then dropped in complete annoyance.

“Why?” he moaned in response, sighing at his mum whilst removing his shoes. “Y/N’s literally here!”

“Maybe because you haven’t done the washing up for over a week, Liam,” she responded, turning her gaze to look at me, rolling her eyes at his demeanour. “Y/N’s not going anywhere, it won’t take you a year.”

After we were able to get Liam to do his chores, I told him that I would be waiting upstairs for him, in his and Noel’s room. Once I went inside, I wandered around the medium-sized room, finding my way over to Noel’s side, especially fixated on the stack of records that he had owned, aligned by the table next to the record player. He had all sorts of bands; the Beatles, the Who, the Smiths, Sex Pistols... All the best artists. The more and more I found out about him the interest I had about him increased. He seemed like a cool older brother to have, and share a room with, even though Liam sees boys in bands quite odd - which is humorous, since he’s practically an entity of his own. Proceeding to pick up a vinyl by the Smiths, the album in particular being the Queen is Dead, I admired the cover whilst grasping it in my palms. The Smiths were the only band that seemed to use the most aimless, but oddy aesthetic images of random men as their album covers - most likely courtesy of Morrissey’s desires - though I suppose is one element which creates the artistic composition of the band, and their music. Snapping me out of the trance I was consumed in, a voice echoed in the room, one which was definitely not Liam’s. “Like what you see?”

Turning around to find out who it was, I was accosted by the sight of Noel, who was holding a warm mug of tea. Flustered, I placed the vinyl back in the stack before taking a seat on Liam’s bed. “Sorry,” I mumbled, looking at Noel whilst playing with my fingers in my lap.

View stuck on him, I watched him walk to his bedside table, placing his mug of tea on the coaster, then reaching out to grab the vinyl that was once embraced by my palms. “You like the Smiths?” he asked, his eyes now connecting to my gaze.

“Yeah I do,” I said, smiling slightly at his question. “That’s my favourite album of theirs actually.”

“Didn’t expect that from you,” He replied back, taking a sip from his mug of tea before taking the vinyl out of its sleeve and placing it on the record player, watching the needle intently as it gently dropped onto the black disc before sitting back on his bed. The title track’s intro then seeped into the silence of the room, paired by Noel humming along to it. “Think their debut was better, if I’m honest.”

“Well preference always matters,” I answered back, walking over to his bed to grab the vinyl sleeve, gazing at the lyric sheets, also taking a seat next to Noel. I felt his stare on me, but I attempted to ignore it as I focused on the little verses of poetry in one of the songs. “Morrissey is such a depressing writer.”

A laugh rumbled at his throat at my absentminded comment. Averting my gaze, I looked at Noel and smiled again. “I’m not wrong!”

“What else you into?” he asked me, curiosity laced in his tone as he diverted the topic.

“Everything else you listen to really, I looked through most of your vinyls,” I replied, watching Noel as his eyebrows furrowed together in shock, my smile widening as I felt my cheeks start to burn slightly - I had never thought that I’d be having a genuine conversation with Noel. “Especially the Beatles, Liam’s told me how much you love them.”

Noel was impressed, and it showed on his face quite evidently. “What’s your favourite album by them then?”

Looking away for a couple seconds, I thought of a response. “Probably Sergeant Peppers. Was their most innovative stuff, in my opinion at least.”

We continued to ramble on about music for a short while, Noel continuing to act excessively shocked whenever I had told him I had indeed listened or liked an artist he questioned. It was nice to finally discuss music with somebody since Liam was never really into it. “You’d never expect me to listen to all of this because I’m friends with a lunatic.”

Another laugh left Noel’s mouth, a smile stuck on his lips. “All he’s obsessed with is football, I don’t even get how you’re both mates.”

“Opposites attract.” I answered back, leaning back to have my back against the wall as we continued to talk. My cheeks began to hurt after a while of us chatting, due to the smile that was unable to leave my lips.

“How come we’ve never spoken properly before?” He asked, walking over to flip the vinyl to side B. “You’re cool.” he added in a mumble, almost as if he didn’t want it to be heard.

I felt blood slightly rush to my cheeks after the compliment fell from his lips, my top teeth clinging onto my bottom lip as a wave of nervousness washed over me. “Maybe because you’re always out.”

A hum of agreement rumbled from his throat as my eyes fixated themselves on the white ceiling. I could see that Noel was staring at me through my peripheral, which caused my cheeks to increase their redness, only slightly. “We should hang out sometime.”

Connecting eyes with him, I admired his dark brown orbs for a second, before I responded. “We should.”

Breaking our moment together, we were welcomed by an exhausted Liam rushing into the room, breathing heavily from his jog up the stairs. Falling onto the bed, me and Noel shared a moment of laughter as we simply stared at Liam’s state. “What’re you lot laughing about?”

Me and Noel turned to look at one another, sharing a gaze once again. There was a specific glint in his eyes which I marveled at, his face beaming at me, only causing me to reciprocate in the same manner. Our stare meant more than what it was, a certain tension was held between us that was felt by both participants. Especially for Noel, whose heart was pumping as if it were about to burst out of his chest, his cheeks a little flushed out of admiration for the girl sitting next to him. “Nothing.” we replied, giggling slightly as our eyes stayed glued on one another.

also 6- I remember people used to quote how the apple crew didn't like when she ordered them as a reason to hate her like SERIOUSLY? white men hate a foreigner woman (who's recovering from a miscarriage btw) how tf is that not coming from internalized racism/sexism? and 7- I remember an audio from get back (?) sessions where Linda was repeatedly saying Jahn JAhn, making fun of yoko's accent, to get the whole squad laughing.

6 Haha I know. Here’s the Barry Miles quote, from the Zapple Diaries:

John railed to anyone who would listen that the other Beatles and the staff of Apple hated Yoko because they were racists, but this was not true. As Derek Taylor pointed out, they didn’t hate her, but they didn’t love her either. As for the accusation of racism – musicians and most of the music industry have traditionally always been free of racism and bigotry, although there might have been a residual anti-Japanese feeling (the war had only ended twenty years earlier and stories about Japanese wartime atrocities frequently featured in the newspapers). Still, the real reason that people disliked Yoko was because she ordered them about and sent them on errands in a particularly rude way; she was brought up with servants, and that’s how she treated the staff of Apple.

As thecurvature said in response:  

...I’m really just smacked in the face and simply can’t ignore the utter absurdity, obliviousness, and inability to self reflect in the assertion that musicians!!!! and the music indutry!!!! have always been free of racism and bigotry!!!!! Like that’s literally the dumbest whitest shit this white woman has ever fucking heard. Anyone who has the gall to believe that to the extent that they actually wrote it down and shared it with the world has shown their racist hand and relinquished their right to a fucking opinion.

X

(There is no war in Ba Sing Se no racism in the 1960s. Maybe a teeny tiny bit lol. Certainly not enough to influence anybody’s opinions at all.) But yes it’s true she was born with servants, in fact in 1945 after the US firebombings of Toyko, Yoko's mother took her three children and their last remaining servant to the countryside where the chance of air raid was decreased. But yes, Yoko had a relatively privileged childhood, and when she grew older, she also rebelled against materialism and such facets of her background lol, I believe she hadn’t had a ‘servant’ in roughly two decades by that time? And it’s true she suffered miscarriages and a car crash during that time, was also already hated by the public, and was dealing with the fact contemporaries were saying her avant-garde career was dead already. And there is the factor that, especially at that time, many white men would’ve (subconsciously?) resented a non-subservient foreigner woman. But it’s not like the Beatles themselves have ever been rude to staff. For one example, Emerick recalled in his biography that during a White Album recording session, John’s amp was up to “an ear-splitting level” and he politely asked John to lower the volume so he could better record it. John replied caustically and asked him to just do his bloody job, and “Come on, get with it, Emerick. I think it’s about bloody time you got your act together.” This made Emerick mad, he couldn't even respond. He also said it was more memorable than the fact Yoko first joined them that same day too (she was reportedly very quiet/shy, John just plunked her there lol). And I don’t have a link, but Barry Miles did a talk/Q&A during which he had an anecdote where Paul really chewed out an underling who had brought him a drink, but forgot a coaster. Around that time, some of Paul’s staff mentioned he could be hard to deal with. ...However, this was around the time Linda’s health wasn’t great, so he was under stress. But does Yoko’s stress not count, or something? Idk. There is a certain empathy usually extended to idols like Paul and withheld from Yoko.

Also some other accounts on Yoko’s personality:

...Yoko seem[ed] to many people a manipulating, psychic, power-wielding egotist who would stop at nothing to get her way. This judgement hid the truth from people who didn't want to face it: Yoko's appeal, to John and the people close to her, was that she was such a strong-minded, artistic individualist. She combined all this with a fearsome practicality. Above all, she would not tolerate weakness in people. Many people who were aware of their own frailties winced at Yoko's intuitive recognition of their failure to do anything about them. John did not; he wanted his woman forceful, intelligent, powerful, domineering, and one step ahead of the game.

... One of the popular myths about John Lennon has been that he was tough, hard-hearted, vicious, and unsentimental. One of the great myths of Yoko Ono is that she is a manipulative witch, power-hungry, and cold. The reverse is true in both cases. Lennon was incurable romantic all his life and that quality manifested itself with great intensity after his reunion with Yoko. Yoko too has always been emotional, tearful, and compassionate.

Lennon, by Ray Coleman

It was a big plus to her [Yoko's] personality, that she's strong... but not to say overbearing, not 'mean' strong, you know. She's a tough girl. You know, a good New Yorker can take care of herself and she doesn't get pushed around too easily. And I think that helped John 'cause John would have more of a tendency to be nice to somebody or you know, say, 'Okay,' when he didn't really mean 'Okay,' because he didn't want to piss somebody off. You know, whereas, Yoko would be much more pragmatic. It the answer was 'No,' she'd just say 'No' and say, 'Next question.'

Elliot Mintz in Lennon Revealed, by Larry Kane

7 I haven’t heard that audio, so I really can’t comment on it. If someone has a link? The Get Back tapes are hours and hours long so I can’t look for it myself haha sorry. I’d love to give Linda the benefit of the doubt, and the social climate of the 1960s was surely different (and the mood just in Abbey Road Studios was tense as well.) 

Anyway thank you anon for sending these in! Interesting points to consider, some comparisons and things I hadn’t even thought of. Also nice to hear people bring that up because it can be hard to discuss things like this, things like racism in the fandom or double standards. But it’s worthwhile, IMO. If anyone has anything to add, I’d be interested in that too <3.