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The Complete Fic Directory
- All I Do Each Night Is Rehearse The Pray Routine
- Appendicitis
- An Act Of Un-Remembrance
- Beginnings
- Better Than Today - Kylie Minogue
- Black
- Breathe Out
- Christmas Shopping
- Choreography
- Dancers
- Dangling
- Days
- Default Settings/Do You Love Me? [Part One]
- Displacement Theory [Blue]
- DJ (I Could Be Dancing) - Alphabeat
- Enchanted
- Ends (Loose And Otherwise) [Ends]
- Enemies
- Family
- Fine Time To Lose Your Mind - Jack McManus
- Fireworks
- Flat Tyres And Palm Prints [Birth]
- Flu
- Friends: A Dictionary [Friends]
- From Angels To The Moon/The Soup
- Green Light [Green]
- Hell Raisers
- Home Invasion
- Hours
- In My Veins
- Insides
- It Was The Death Of Something [Death]
- Just Like Children [Children]
- Kiss And Make Up
- The Last Time
- Lonely At Christmas
- Love Songs
- Lovers
- Middles
- Midnight Sun
- Mistletoe
- Months Go By [Months]
- More Important Than Fear
- Muddied Stars [Brown]
- Not Enough
- Of Peacocks
- On The Subject Of Angels [Orange]
- Playing House [Parents]
- The Price Of Friendship
- The Prize
- Post-Match Analysis
- Puddles
- Red
- Secret Admirer
- Secret Agent Owen
- Shades
- Shine - Skies Of America
- Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
- Snap
- So Good To See You
- Stage Fright
- Stay (Oh Darlin')
- Study In Motion
- Summertime Feeling - S Club 7
- Sunrise
- Sunset
- Teammates
- That Night In Amsterdam/Do You Love Me? [Part Two]
- This
- Three Sets Of Three
- Twenty-Nine (And A Half)
- Under A Colourless Sky [Colourless]
- We Found Something That Belongs To You [Outsides]
- We Were Strangers Once [Strangers]
- Weeks
- What Did You Say This Time?
- What Will The Papers Say? [Purple]
- White Out [White]
- The Wordsmith/Breathe In
- Years
- Yellow
- Yesterday's Promise
- 3-0 Defeats
- Barlow's Music Shop Series
- Fanfiction Challenges
- The Postcard Prompts
- OT3, OT4 & OT5
- Stories By Band Member
- Stories By Ship
- Stories By Genre
- Stories By Era
- Band-Free AUs
- Prompt Requests
- Other Fandom Fics
- Follow Me
Displacement Theory [Blue]
Gary Barlow is a man with brave blue eyes. There’s a pride to the way Gary sets his jaw, a strength that’s undeniably him. Because Gary is a bold and brazen blue and there’s a defiant glint in his eyes – the world did him an injustice but look at him now. Every line of his face tells a new story and one eyebrow is quirked upwards as those straight-line lips mutter a dry retort. At heart he’s just another Northern bloke with world-hardened shoulders and skyward dreams. He likes a laugh and good home-cooked food. His laugh is a belly-laugh and it’s as bold as those blue eyes. He once was too driven by his set-jawed pride to stop and just laugh like that but things have changed since then. It’s his mates that mean the world to him now. They admire the flash of fearless blue that’s painted across his heart, but he knows they will always tell him when he needs to rein it in. After everything he sees now that it’s better that way. He was once beaten and rolled from public consciousness until, with their help, he woke up one morning and found himself on a throne once more, those mates of his at his side, guarding him like tigers. Heaven help the man that tried to defy the brilliant blue of Gary Barlow, because no tiger could be as fiercely caring as the three men by his side. He lets them take their own thrones now, a softer man than he used to be, less wildly driven, more bravely curious. He chuckles and brushes biscuit crumbs from his sleeve and it’s a modest blue that creeps into his strong smile.
Howard Donald has a face of midnight blue. Every detail, every quirk, every little line – it’s all imprinted so deeply that if you look carefully you can see his whole life in his smile. The Milky Way dances past his eyes, briefly distracting from the open window those twin blue moons provide. Those thoughtful orbs glow softly and every part of his soul is painted vividly across their surface. His forehead crinkles and suddenly the full intensity of Howard Donald is filling the midnight blue. He rubs a hand against his cheek with a scratch of stubble before shaking his head. He sighs, leans back in his chair, but there’s still a shine in his soulful eyes. His heart is honest enough, his smile so easy to understand, but the depth of his thought is a richer blue than even the darkest night. He thrives on their company and the crease of his forehead soon passes in their presence. Howard cares a lot about these three men – and when Howard cares he cares profoundly. Any blow dealt to his friends he feels himself and sometimes he is still troubled by memories of knocks from the past. But the past is the past, he reminds himself, and the present is more than he could ever have dreamed of. He’s sitting at the top of the world with his three best mates when he burns his tongue on his coffee and curses. He loves the fact they’re laughing at him instead of showing any sign of sympathy. A radiant smile of faded blue grows broader and broader, stretching wider than any night sky.
Jason Orange gazes with piercing blue eyes. Part of Jason will forever be that lad from down the road who used to cop off with the girl you fancied before you’d even said more than a sentence to her – though you could never hold it against him. In his eyes lies a roguish charm, twinkling brightly. Mischief lingers on his cheeks but thought has worn at his jaw. The soft chunter of his thoughts knits his brow every now and again and as you watch him you can see a gentle seriousness dusted lightly about his shoulders. There’s still a swagger in his walk – his arms back, his head high – but he slouches down in his chair in a way that is fascinatingly unassuming. He pulls a face and grins timidly at his own joke, letting out a laugh as his friends retort. His laugh, azure blue, raises more smiles. There’s pride in his eyes when he looks at his friends and it flashes bright as he remembers that it’s them against the world. They will always stand shoulder to shoulder, tight and together and not afraid of anything because each one of them knows there are three sets of arms to fall back into if anything should go wrong. He loves that. He hugs with strong arms and something about him just draws you in. He makes people smile and it’s captivating to watch because half the time he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it. Shining blue and gold and honest, he glances down to his guitar, focusing intently on the frets. Even Howard can’t convince him to try to talk at the same time, concentration etched into his stare. When Jason eventually looks up he risks a tentative boast and as he smiles at his friends’ laughter it’s as if stardust is scattered in those bright blue eyes.
Mark Owen possesses a smile that’s dazzling ocean blue. Turquoise and glittering – one smile of his is capable of lighting whole cities and no one can help but think of him with affection. He’s just one of those people. He has a heart bigger than he knows what to do with – a depth of even the bluest ocean would not be enough to hold his love. Round eyes sparkle wildly as he chatters away the hours and suddenly he starts laughing and it’s a laugh which compels you to laugh with him, you can’t help it. Mark has had his fair share of disappointments but he’s bobbed on through every storm – like a rubber duck which has somehow found its way onto the high seas but is determined to enjoy the trip. Pieces of the sky itself are found amidst the dashes of green and gold that linger in his eyes and sunbeams are folded haphazardly across the lines of his face. Sometimes he’s all exclamations – rosy-cheeked and breathless blue – his own enthusiasm runs away with him and affectionately they pull him back and ruffle his hair. Someone makes a reference to his height and they receive a Cuban heel to the thigh for their troubles, his grinning face filled with the magnificent vibrancy of a thousand blue-ocean waves.
Robbie Williams watches their interactions with thoughtful blue eyes. He can see happiness etched into every line of Howard’s smile as he exchanges insults with a chuckling Jason. Why he ever turned his back on these two men will forever be a mystery to him but he thinks that it’s a bit too late for deciding that. They’re decent blokes and they pretend to forget his indiscretions. Gary deadpans a quick remark over the top of his mug and for a moment his eyes meet Mark’s before they both dissolve into fits of laughter, Mark’s head leaning into Gary’s arm as the laughs overcome him. Robbie remembers how he used to curse Gary’s bright blue eyes, how he used to hate them. He still curses every now and again but it isn’t hate anymore. It’s a strange melancholic jealousy these days. Because now Gary is Mark’s closest friend. He knows he was the one that made the choice to neglect the friendship he shared with the sweetest man he has ever known, but he wishes he could change that. If the truth must be known, he’s jealous of a lot more than that. He’s jealous of the fact that these four men share something now, a bond that cannot be changed or extended. It’s theirs and only theirs. They’ve forged it from their damaged hearts, old hurt, good memories – old and new – and it’s all sealed completely with their quiet blue smiles. They’re not broken anymore. But he is. Don’t misunderstand, he’s happy. Happier than ever. And their company is so warm, so easy. But he is an included outsider. There will always be something a little bit fractured lying behind his blue eyes, it’s just who he is. That’s why he knows he doesn’t really belong with them the same way they belong with each other. He laughs at something Jason says and for a little while they all forget the lost blue that lingers in his smile. They’re friends again – blue friends – and they know that that’s really what counts.
Howard Donald has a face of midnight blue. Every detail, every quirk, every little line – it’s all imprinted so deeply that if you look carefully you can see his whole life in his smile. The Milky Way dances past his eyes, briefly distracting from the open window those twin blue moons provide. Those thoughtful orbs glow softly and every part of his soul is painted vividly across their surface. His forehead crinkles and suddenly the full intensity of Howard Donald is filling the midnight blue. He rubs a hand against his cheek with a scratch of stubble before shaking his head. He sighs, leans back in his chair, but there’s still a shine in his soulful eyes. His heart is honest enough, his smile so easy to understand, but the depth of his thought is a richer blue than even the darkest night. He thrives on their company and the crease of his forehead soon passes in their presence. Howard cares a lot about these three men – and when Howard cares he cares profoundly. Any blow dealt to his friends he feels himself and sometimes he is still troubled by memories of knocks from the past. But the past is the past, he reminds himself, and the present is more than he could ever have dreamed of. He’s sitting at the top of the world with his three best mates when he burns his tongue on his coffee and curses. He loves the fact they’re laughing at him instead of showing any sign of sympathy. A radiant smile of faded blue grows broader and broader, stretching wider than any night sky.
Jason Orange gazes with piercing blue eyes. Part of Jason will forever be that lad from down the road who used to cop off with the girl you fancied before you’d even said more than a sentence to her – though you could never hold it against him. In his eyes lies a roguish charm, twinkling brightly. Mischief lingers on his cheeks but thought has worn at his jaw. The soft chunter of his thoughts knits his brow every now and again and as you watch him you can see a gentle seriousness dusted lightly about his shoulders. There’s still a swagger in his walk – his arms back, his head high – but he slouches down in his chair in a way that is fascinatingly unassuming. He pulls a face and grins timidly at his own joke, letting out a laugh as his friends retort. His laugh, azure blue, raises more smiles. There’s pride in his eyes when he looks at his friends and it flashes bright as he remembers that it’s them against the world. They will always stand shoulder to shoulder, tight and together and not afraid of anything because each one of them knows there are three sets of arms to fall back into if anything should go wrong. He loves that. He hugs with strong arms and something about him just draws you in. He makes people smile and it’s captivating to watch because half the time he doesn’t seem to realise he’s doing it. Shining blue and gold and honest, he glances down to his guitar, focusing intently on the frets. Even Howard can’t convince him to try to talk at the same time, concentration etched into his stare. When Jason eventually looks up he risks a tentative boast and as he smiles at his friends’ laughter it’s as if stardust is scattered in those bright blue eyes.
Mark Owen possesses a smile that’s dazzling ocean blue. Turquoise and glittering – one smile of his is capable of lighting whole cities and no one can help but think of him with affection. He’s just one of those people. He has a heart bigger than he knows what to do with – a depth of even the bluest ocean would not be enough to hold his love. Round eyes sparkle wildly as he chatters away the hours and suddenly he starts laughing and it’s a laugh which compels you to laugh with him, you can’t help it. Mark has had his fair share of disappointments but he’s bobbed on through every storm – like a rubber duck which has somehow found its way onto the high seas but is determined to enjoy the trip. Pieces of the sky itself are found amidst the dashes of green and gold that linger in his eyes and sunbeams are folded haphazardly across the lines of his face. Sometimes he’s all exclamations – rosy-cheeked and breathless blue – his own enthusiasm runs away with him and affectionately they pull him back and ruffle his hair. Someone makes a reference to his height and they receive a Cuban heel to the thigh for their troubles, his grinning face filled with the magnificent vibrancy of a thousand blue-ocean waves.
Robbie Williams watches their interactions with thoughtful blue eyes. He can see happiness etched into every line of Howard’s smile as he exchanges insults with a chuckling Jason. Why he ever turned his back on these two men will forever be a mystery to him but he thinks that it’s a bit too late for deciding that. They’re decent blokes and they pretend to forget his indiscretions. Gary deadpans a quick remark over the top of his mug and for a moment his eyes meet Mark’s before they both dissolve into fits of laughter, Mark’s head leaning into Gary’s arm as the laughs overcome him. Robbie remembers how he used to curse Gary’s bright blue eyes, how he used to hate them. He still curses every now and again but it isn’t hate anymore. It’s a strange melancholic jealousy these days. Because now Gary is Mark’s closest friend. He knows he was the one that made the choice to neglect the friendship he shared with the sweetest man he has ever known, but he wishes he could change that. If the truth must be known, he’s jealous of a lot more than that. He’s jealous of the fact that these four men share something now, a bond that cannot be changed or extended. It’s theirs and only theirs. They’ve forged it from their damaged hearts, old hurt, good memories – old and new – and it’s all sealed completely with their quiet blue smiles. They’re not broken anymore. But he is. Don’t misunderstand, he’s happy. Happier than ever. And their company is so warm, so easy. But he is an included outsider. There will always be something a little bit fractured lying behind his blue eyes, it’s just who he is. That’s why he knows he doesn’t really belong with them the same way they belong with each other. He laughs at something Jason says and for a little while they all forget the lost blue that lingers in his smile. They’re friends again – blue friends – and they know that that’s really what counts.