#guy bellingfield

[zapreportsblog]

❝the bet❞

✭ pairing : guy bellingfield x reader

✭ fandom : riot club

✭ summary : (y/n) is the newest student at University of Oxford . She’s got the looks and brains to back her up and it doesn’t hurt that her body draws attention too, so as a bet the men of the infamous riot club see who can bed her first

✭ authors note : this was requested by @piastripoets you send this specific request in to @fandomnationwhore a while back but I’m here to fill in for them and write. At any moment you wish to be untagged do inform me :) your request had been riot club guy × reader where the reader is new to the college and the guys all try hitting on her but only guy is successful?

The ancient stone buildings of the University of Oxford, steeped in centuries of history, bore witness to the arrival of a new student, (Y/N). Her presence was a disruption in the tranquil aura of academia that had enveloped the venerable institution for generations.

As the taxi pulled up to the entrance of the storied university, (Y/N) stepped out, her confidence radiating like a force of nature. Tall and strikingly beautiful, with long flowing hair that shimmered like obsidian and eyes that sparkled with intelligence, she was a captivating sight that drew attention from all corners.

With a suitcase in one hand and a backpack slung casually over her shoulder, she navigated her way through the cobblestone paths that crisscrossed the historic campus. Students whispered in hushed tones as she passed, speculation and curiosity following her like a shadow.

But (Y/N) was more than just a pretty face. She was a brilliant mind, a prodigy in her field. Her academic achievements had earned her a scholarship to the hallowed halls of Oxford, where she intended to immerse herself in the pursuit of knowledge.

Unbeknownst to her, there was a group of young, wealthy, and powerful men at Oxford known as the Riot Club. They were known for their extravagant parties, their old-boy network connections, and their penchant for mischief. The members of the Riot Club had a reputation for always getting what they wanted, no matter the cost.

As (Y/N) settled into her dorm room, the men of the Riot Club gathered in a dimly lit, oak-paneled room within the heart of the university. Their eyes were fixed on (Y/N) from the moment she had set foot on campus, and now they hatched a plan to make her the object of their desires.

Jonathan, a charismatic and wealthy member of the Riot Club, proposed a reckless bet that sent a ripple of excitement through the room. "Gentlemen," he began, a sly grin on his face, "I propose a wager. Whomever among us manages to win the affections of the new student, (Y/N), shall be rewarded with whatever they desire."

The room fell silent for a moment as the gravity of the bet sank in. These were young men accustomed to getting their way, and (Y/N) presented an enticing challenge. Their motivations varied from pure desire to a desire for power, but all were equally determined to pursue her.

Little did (Y/N) know that her arrival at Oxford had set in motion a high-stakes game, one where her beauty, brains, and body had become the ultimate prize. The stage was set, and the Riot Club had cast their sights on the enigmatic newcomer, ready to do whatever it took to win her heart, and in doing so, get whatever they wanted.

The night air in Oxford carried a crisp, autumn chill as (Y/N) and a few of her newfound friends from the university made their way to a cozy pub nestled among the city's winding streets. The warmth and camaraderie of the evening were a welcome respite from the rigorous academic demands of their first week at Oxford.

Gathered around a wooden table, they exchanged stories, laughter, and dreams for the future. These friends had quickly become (Y/N)'s lifeline in this new, unfamiliar world. Their friendships provided solace and a sense of belonging in a place where she had initially felt like an outsider.

Meanwhile, across the dimly lit pub, members of the Riot Club had taken notice of (Y/N) once again. Their curiosity and desire to win the bet burned within them. Jonathan, the charismatic instigator of the wager, leaned over to his companions and whispered, "There she is, gentlemen. (Y/N), the key to our desires."

As the evening wore on, (Y/N)'s friends reluctantly excused themselves one by one, leaving her sitting alone at the table. She watched as they disappeared into the bustling Oxford nightlife, each bidding her a warm farewell.

It was precisely at this moment that Jonathan and his cohorts saw their opportunity. With feigned congeniality, they approached (Y/N)'s table, their designer suits and confident demeanor setting them apart from the pub's regular patrons.

"Hello, (Y/N)," Jonathan greeted her with a charming smile. "We couldn't help but notice that you were here all by yourself. Mind if we join you for a drink? We'd love to get to know our newest classmate better."

(Y/N) surveyed the group of men with a mixture of caution and suspicion. She had heard rumors about the Riot Club and their reputation for mischief. While she had hoped to keep a low profile and focus on her studies, it seemed that fate had other plans.

Politely but firmly, (Y/N) declined their invitation. "Thank you for the offer, but I think I'll call it a night. I've had a long day of classes, and I could use some rest."

Jonathan's smile faltered for a moment, but he quickly composed himself. "Well, the offer stands whenever you're ready. We look forward to getting to know you better, (Y/N)."

With a polite nod, (Y/N) gathered her things and made her way to the exit. The members of the Riot Club exchanged glances, realizing that this challenge might be more difficult than they had initially anticipated.

As (Y/N) stepped out into the cool Oxford night, she couldn't shake the feeling that the Riot Club's interest in her went beyond mere curiosity.

A few minutes after (Y/N) left the pub, she was making her way down a dimly lit street when she heard hurried footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, she was surprised to see a young man, his breath slightly labored from running, catching up to her.

"Wait up!" he called out, concern evident in his voice. "It's unsafe for a young woman to be out this late, much less a beautiful one like yourself."

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, unsure of this stranger's intentions. She had been cautious about accepting help from anyone, especially after the encounter with the Riot Club, but there was something about the sincerity in his eyes that gave her pause.

He continued, "I couldn't help but notice you leaving the pub alone, and I thought I should offer my assistance. Would you like me to call a taxi for you?"

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, contemplating the offer. The night was indeed lovely, and the brisk air was invigorating. "Thank you for your concern, but I think I'll walk back to the dorms. It's not far, and I could use the fresh air."

The young man nodded, understanding her decision. "Well, in that case, may I accompany you? It's always safer to have company, especially at night."

(Y/N) weighed her options. She didn't know this man, but his gesture seemed genuinely kind. After a brief moment of consideration, she nodded in agreement. "Alright, you can walk with me. My name is (Y/N), by the way."

He smiled warmly. "I'm Guy. Nice to meet you, (Y/N)."

As they strolled together through the quiet, moonlit streets of Oxford, conversation flowed easily between them. They discovered common interests in literature, their love for exploring new places, and a shared appreciation for the beauty of the historic city.

Guy, it turned out, was a fellow student at Oxford, pursuing a degree in history. He was well-read and passionate about his studies, and his knowledge of the university's rich history impressed (Y/N). In turn, she shared her own academic pursuits and aspirations, and they found themselves engaged in a lively discussion about their respective fields.

As they approached the dormitory building, (Y/N) realized that the walk had been far more enjoyable and less intimidating with Guy by her side. She turned to him with a grateful smile. "Thank you for walking me back, Guy. I appreciate it."

He smiled in return, his eyes reflecting the warmth of their newfound connection. "Anytime, (Y/N). It was a pleasure getting to know you. Perhaps we could continue our conversation over coffee sometime?"

(Y/N) nodded, feeling a sense of anticipation about what the future might hold. "I'd like that, Guy. Coffee sounds great."

They exchanged contact information, and as (Y/N) entered her dormitory, she couldn't help but reflect on the unexpected turn of events. What had started as a night filled with uncertainty and caution had led to a chance encounter with a kindred spirit. Little did she know that this serendipitous meeting with Guy would become a significant and transformative chapter in her life at the University of Oxford.

In the weeks that followed their chance encounter, (Y/N) and Guy had grown remarkably close. They spent hours together in the university's picturesque gardens, lost in conversations that ranged from philosophy to their personal dreams and aspirations. What started as a simple walk back from the pub had blossomed into a genuine and deep connection.

As they shared their thoughts and experiences, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel that Guy was different from the other men she had encountered at Oxford. He was respectful, considerate, and genuinely interested in her as a person, not just as a beautiful face. She had come to value his friendship immensely.

Meanwhile, the members of the Riot Club, continued to watch the unfolding drama with anticipation. Their bet was nearing its climax, and Jonathan, the instigator of the wager, couldn't help but feel confident.

"You're totally going to win the bet, Guy," one of his friends remarked, slapping him on the back as they gathered in their dimly lit meeting room.

Guy Bellingfield, a member of the Riot Club who had set his sights on (Y/N), grinned triumphantly. He had taken to heart the challenge and had spent countless hours trying to woo her. He believed he was making headway.

As the men celebrated their impending victory, (Y/N) happened to overhear a conversation from the shadows. Her curiosity piqued, she discreetly eavesdropped on their exchange.

"Now all you've got to do is sleep with her, and boom, you've won," one of the Riot Club members whispered to Guy, a sinister grin on his face.

(Y/N)'s heart sank as the implications of their conversation became clear. She had been nothing more than a pawn in their game, a means to an end in their quest to win a bet. It was a revelation that left her feeling used and manipulated.

[emerald-notes]

Hello there. Can you please write a riot club imagine? There the reader will be Guy's sister and has a crush on Dimitri. Dimitri knows it and flirts with the reader. The reader wants Dimitri to take her out.

That Time:

I was looking forward to this Christmas vacation. Not only because I was meeting my brother, Guy, after a while, but also because I was gonna meet someone I really adore.

He was Dimitri, my brother’s best friend since school. I’ve remembered meeting him on many occasions. I have always liked him a lot. The way he talks in a Greek-English accent, the way he often fixes his hair, even the way he swears while he talks, impresses me to a great extent.

I feel like Guy had noticed my growing feelings for Dimitri. He always keeps on saying how Dimitri always spoke of me as if I was his little sister, which annoys me a lot. I am only three years younger than him. That doesn’t make me little.

I was waiting by the door to receive Guy and Dimitri as they arrived. Guy gave mum a quick kiss on the cheek and hugged me gently.

“You’re still studying hard?” Guy joked. He always jokes about me being a nerd and all. I ignored him and shook Dimitri’s hand.

“GOD!” Dimitri exhaled, “You’ve grown so much since I saw you last.” I couldn’t help but blush.

“You must be really tired, boys.” my mum called them inside.

We had dinner together. Mum talked with them all the time. Dimitri told her about how he ended up deciding to come to our house while his parents went to Greece that year. I found myself looking at him at times. It felt like the more I look at him the more I fell in love with him.

But he simply ignored me through the dinner and talked to my mother instead. When mother left us to talk after the pudding was when Dimitri actually cared to look at me.

“I didn’t think you’ll grow up to be this gorgeous,” Dimitri smirked, “I mean, look at Guy, surely he can’t be your brother.”

The smile on my face died as I looked at Guy’s irritated expression. “She’s only 16. mate.”

“Exactly,” Dimitri said, still smiling.

I opened my mouth to say something but Guy interrupted me and said “Y/N, you can go to your room now.”

“But...” I tried to protest. But this time Dimitri stopped me, “It’s okay, Y/N. He’s just playing brother here. I’ll handle it.” He winked and turned to Guy.

I left the room quickly to stop myself from giggling.

[club-riot]

Riot Boys

[aoibhs]

Library

Chapter One 

Chapter Twenty-Two

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from The Riot Club/Posh, and all OCs were beautifully crafted by @club-riot

Poppy reached for the big brown book and her hand touched off someone else's, going for the same book. "Go ahead," Poppy whispered, then looked properly at the person and instantly regretted it. She had to be polite now that she committed to it at the start of a conversation. "Thanks," Lauren gave a small smile and selected the large art history book from the shelf. "No problem," Poppy said quickly and turned away, deciding on trying to find a PDF of the book online in order to get away from her as soon as possible. "You're Miles' friend, aren't you?" So much for that plan. "Yeah, I am," She just nodded. God, how she wanted to just be rude and walk away. That might impact her friendship with Miles, it was risky. "He talks about you, it's just nice to finally meet you," Lauren shrugged, hugging the book to her chest. "Likewise," She nodded. Was that it? Could she leave? "I didn't know you studied art history too," Ugh. "Fine art," Poppy corrected her, "I have a module in art history," "One of the big lectures?" There was a slight smirk on Lauren's face that said she had figured out why they had never met before. Well done, Lauren. "That's right," Poppy nodded again, glancing over at her desk, where Imogen was working on an assignment, her back to them. She'd never notice Poppy who was on the verge of praying for a way out. "We should get a coffee sometime," Lauren smiled, "I'd love to get to know some of Miles' friends better. I'm Lauren, by the way," Yeah, she knew that long before that, but anyway. "Poppy Kensington," She answered. "Like the place in London? Do you live there?" Poppy had to obtain an enormous amount of self-control so that she wouldn't automatically cringe at how annoying her accent was. "Yes and no," She pretended to chuckle and backed away, "This was really lovely, Lauren," No, it wasn't, "But I've got work I need ready for the end of the week," "I'll get Miles to give you the book when I'm done," Lauren chirped. "Thanks," She nearly ran but her self-control kicked in again. At this point, the PDF was her only friend now. She would have words with Imogen about facing the right direction to help her out of sticky situations in the future and Imogen would be dying to laugh at how ludicrous it was. Lauren Small wanted to be her friend. "Better you than me," She snorted, then looked across the table to see Elizabeth doodling instead of writing her essay on Chaucer, "Hey, Shaw," Her friend looked up, "Quit writing your name and Guy's name in a heart and get back to work, yeah?" "Yeah, Elizabeth Bellingfield," Poppy added. "I'm actually crossing out something someone else wrote on all my notebooks," She held up a notebook that had her own name scratched out and Elizabeth Leighton-Masters written quite crudely in large, bold letters all over the rest of its surface. "That's nearly as funny as Lauren," Imogen fanned her face as if that would stop her from giggling. That's when Poppy glared and poked her in the ribs with her pen, that got her to stop laughing. "Who would do this?" Elizabeth's feelings didn't exactly look hurt but she did looked bewildered. James wouldn't have done this himself, would he? "That would be me," Harry Villiers approached the table, sitting next to Elizabeth. "Why? And how did you even get these?" She held up her copies, still confused as ever. "Lizzy, this is out of your hands now," He touched her chin and sighed in a condescending tone that had Imogen in muted stitches again, "I'm here in need of your services," "We're working here, Villiers," Poppy gestured to her notes that lay scattered on the desk. "So am I," Harry pretended to look shocked by her comment, "I need some tips for my date with Honora," "Buy her expensive stuff," Imogen shrugged. "Well other than that," Harry smiled, knowing he had something under control. "Nice dinner and then go to a club," Poppy added her own shrug. "Let her pick the wine," Elizabeth said. "Yes. Definitely," Imogen pointed at in agreement. "Ah, wonderful," Harry grinned, satisfied with the advice he had received, "You all set up for your own date, Shaw?" Harry nudged her, smirking. "What?" "With Bellend," "I...um. Pardon?" "Wait, are you telling me he hasn't asked you?" Harry creased his eyebrows, becoming confused with her. "Was he supposed to?" "I mean," He spluttered a laugh then pretended to cough before the librarian caught his eye, "He was supposed to a month ago but here we are," "Well, I'm a married woman, Harry," She held up the notebook which he had written all over with a blank expression. "Oh come on," He grinned. "I won't believe anything unless he actually tells me himself," She shrugged, putting the notebook down again, beginning to draw hearts around some of the names. "Don't be like that, Lizzy," Harry sighed, leaning in closer so that she'd look at him, "I can't help it if he's being a pussy, I'm doing all I can to help you both," "How is this help?" She pointed her pen at the notebook of names again. "You need to broaden your mind to all the possibilities this'll give you," Harry raised his hands to his temples, flicking them outward. "Her brain can't register jealousy, Villiers," Poppy weighed in, "Our Elizabeth is too nice," "I'm not jealous of anyone," Elizabeth shrugged, going back to drawing hearts again. "Yeah but Guy is," Imogen shook her head. "No, he's not," "Are you really this blind?" Harry actually scoffed at that, "He's obsessed with you, Shaw and everyone knows it except you," "Don't be ridiculous, I'm not falling for that joke again," She began to pack up her notebooks. "Again?" Poppy looked at her, now curious and concerned. "My... My brothers, um," She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "They used to tell me their friends fancied me so that I'd try to get them to kiss me or whatever. I'm not that dim anymore though," "No you've just switched off your radar for any form of male affection for you," Imogen rolled her eyes. "We're not finished here," Harry stood up to leave, "Cheers for the tips,"

Chapter Twenty-Four

[glenlorence]

inktober day 22 

[fandomvariousness]

Request:  "A dirty truth or dare with all the Riot Club ending in a fight between Guy and Dimitri ( I can't believe what I'm asking omg) for the reader😉😘"

gifs are not mine.

“I dare you to french kiss with a person in front of you.” Harry spoke with a mischievous glint in his eyes, making you regret choosing a dare instead of truth.

You diverted your gaze in front of you only to see a gap between Guy and Dimitri. You giggled as they looked at each other and started bickering which one of them should make out with you.

“Guys, stop.” You laughed, gaining their attention. “I’ll kiss with both of you if you’re so persistent.”

[maarwritesarchive]

Subtle Apology [Guy Bellingfield]

Prompt: The Riot Club guys meet Guy’s girlfriend after Guy defends her when the guys question why he’s with her. (x)

Pairing: Guy Bellingfield x Reader

Fandom: The Riot Club

A/N: A TRC imagine, finally! I’ve had the worst writers block related to TRC lately, and after a long time of working on this imagine, I can finally post this as it is finally decent (lol). Also, I decided to link the request to the imagine, so that’s what the little “(x)” in “Prompt” means. 

Guy is practically beaming as he walks inside Harry’s house. He has the biggest smile on his face and he’s practically skipping in his step. 

“Mr. Brightside is here!” Olly yells as Guy walks into the room the guys are in. George and Harry are playing FIFA, and George is dramatically loosing, but he’ll probably deny it anyways. 

James turns, rolling his eyes. “Finally,” he mutters. 

Dimitri hands Guy a glass of Scotch. The signature club drink. “What took you so long?”

Guy smirks. "Nothing,” he replies, shrugging. 

George lets out a scream as the game finishes and he loses 5-1. Harry stands up, a smug grin on his face. “Whipped your ass once again,” he says, looking at George, who just shrugs. 

“So what’s this meeting for?” Guy asks, taking a sip of his drink. 

Dimitri rolls his eyes. “Seriously? You just got here.” 

Guy shrugs. “I just asked.” 

“Yes, Bellingfield,” James says. “Why are you so eager to leave?” 

Olly grins. He looks at Guy, wanting to say something. Guy widens his eyes at him, warning him not to. Olly winks. 

“Anyways,” Harry interrupts, pressing PLAY and starting a new game against George. "We’re just having a good time, Guy. Relax. Maybe you want to play when George looses.” 

“I’ll win this one,” George says, eyes glued to the screen.

Guy rolls his eyes. He walks to where George and Harry were sitting and sits down next to Villiers. 

“GOAL!” George screams, raising his arms in celebration. “GOAL!”

Harry rolls his eyes and gives the controller to Guy. “Have to pee,” he says, exiting the room. Guy shrugs and tries to play, but he sucks at FIFA. He is a competitive person, though. 

It isn’t even five minutes when George manages to score another goal, and Guy’s phone starts ringing as George celebrates. 

“Hello? Guy Bellingfield’s phone,” says Dimitri. Guy silently curses when he remembers that he left his phone on the table. “Wait... (Y/N)?”

Guy freezes. Shit shit shit.

“Guy,” Dimitri says, tossing Guy his phone. He’s smirking. “(Y/N) says you left your sweater in her apartment,”

Guy closes his eyes as George pauses the game. “What? (Y/N)?

“(Y/N) Diggory,” says Olly, raising his brows.

Guy clenches his fist. “(Y/N) Diggory? My literature partner?” George asks, bewildered. 

“Why are we talking about (Y/N) Diggory?” Harry asks, entering the room. “She isn’t even hot.”

“Villiers,” Guy mutters. “Shut up.” 

“What?” The boy asks, confused. “It’s true. I mean, she’s pretty, but that’s it.”

“He’s about to punch you,” Olly says, laughing. “She’s his girlfriend, you know.”

Harry laughs and James flicks him in the head. Everyone but Olly stare at Guy, dumbfounded. He’d seen them on a date and Guy had told him everything, making Olly the only one to know about his relationship.

“What? Why are you even dating her?” Harry asks, chuckling. 

Guy stands up and hands the controller to George, who still has an expression of pure confusion on his face. “Where are you going?” He asks when Guy leaves the room. 

“I’m going to see my girlfriend,” he says, loudly. “You know, a beautiful girl with a heart of gold. The best person I’ve ever met. Any of you got a problem with that?” 

Then he steps out of the house, the door loudly closing after him.

Guy squeezes her hand and kisses her hair as they walk through campus. He’s holding a bundle of books with his other hand, and he almost drops them as he sees the group of boys that are walking directly to them. He stands, frozen, his brows in a deep frown. 

“Bell-end!” James exclaims as they come near. “And the beautiful (Y/N).”

She blushes, and Guy doesn’t recall having seen anything more beautiful.“Hi,” she says, softly.

“This is, um, James,” Guy says. “And that’s Dimitri, Harry and Hugo.”

“Nice to meet you,” she says, stretching out her arm in order for the boys to shake her hand. Everyone but Harry does. When Guy frowns, the Villiers boy comes close and holds (Y/N)’s hand, bringing it to her lips. 

“Guy said you were beautiful and he was definitely right,” he says. 

(Y/N) smiles. She’s happy, Guy notices. He looks at Harry, and mouthes a “thank you”. Harry smiles and winks. A subtle apology.

“We’re going to the pub,” Hugo says. “Maybe you’d want to go with us?”

Guy turns to her and shrugs. “Sure,” he says.

He throws his arm over her shoulders and smiles. 

[riotboysrequests]

Can we just take a moment to appreciate this arrogant dork. Guy Frickin’ Bellingfield. He’s such a prat. Horrible, really. BUT DAMMIT I WANT TO HUG HIM. 

[bookwormdeen]

Requests Open

Requests Open

Hello!

These can be pairing with Reader, OC (fanfic or one-shot) or just one-shot without pairing (just the character).

I do dates special (b-days, Christmas, etc)

Smut (Only in some cases), Dark themes: Allowed.  I like polemic, yes! Feminism, Gender questions, Politic, Health. All of it. The world is a lot of things, writing has to be too. Plus, art is here to help.

I value things that run from stereotypes or cliche. So your character can be LGBTQI +, Black... Anything really. I don’t wanna just white perfect characters. I want different.  Because different is far more challenging and fun to write.

I am taking requests with the following characters:

TV Shows

Daredevil: Foggy Nelson; Benjamin Poindexter, Matt Murdock, Vladimir Ranskahov

The Originals: Kol, Klaus, Elijah

Vampire Diaries: Damon, Kai Parker

Vienna Blood: Max Liebermann

The Punisher: Billy Russo.

The Witcher: Jaskier, Cahir, Lazlo

The Order:Hamish Duke, Randall 

Justified: Tim Gutterson

Limitless: Bryan Flinch

Ragnarok: Fjor Jutul, Laurentis

Dark: Jonas, Magnus Nielsen

Peaky Blinders: Thomas Shelby, Michael Gray

Amazing Spider-Man: Ben Reilly (Scarlet Spider), Peter Parker, Alistair Smyte, Miles Morales

A Discovery of Witches: Marcus Whitmore 

Merlin: Merlin, Arthur, Mordred, Gwaine, Lancelot

Grimm: Nick Burkhardt

Good Wife: Cary Agos, Finn Polmar

Star Trek: Spock, Khan, James Kirk, *Data

Dusk Till Dawn: Richard Geko, Seth Gecko

Glee: Sam Evans

Scream: Noah Foster, Gustavo Acosta, Eli Hudson, Will Belmont

Hannibal: Hannibal Lecter

Money Heist (La Casa de Papel): Berlim

The Good Doctor: Shaun Murphy, Neil Melendez, Alex Park

Castlevania: Adrian Tepes, Trevor Belmont

Clone Wars: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker

Sex Education: Otis, Adam Groff, Eric

Movies

Marvel: Loki, Bucky (Winter Soldier), Peter Parker, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Doctor Strange, Quicksilver, Black Panther, Harry Osborn

DC: Bruce Wayne, Scarecrow, Joker

Ex Machina: Caleb Smith

Riot Club: Miles Richards, Dimitri Mitropoulos, Guy Bellingfield, James Leighton

1917: Blake, Scholfield

Narnia: Edmund Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Caspian 

Hobbit: Legolas, Thorin, Thranduil 

Fantastic Beasts: Newt Scamander, Theseus Scamander

6 Underground: 4, 6, 7

HP: Draco Malfoy

Game of Thrones: Robb Stark

Maze Runner: Newt, Gally

Characters 

Iron Fist Austen: Mr Darcy, Mr Tilney, Sidney Park, Frederick Wentworth

Noah Centineo

PS: Here are listed only man but you can ask woman too (I don’t know which ones to put, there are much more than these ones).

Ships

Crossover ships are accepted too!

Davina x Kol

Mr Darcy x Elizabeth

Mr Tilney x Catherine Morland

Anne x Gilbert

Sidney Park x Charlotte

Matt Murdock x Karen Page

Billy Russo x Krista Dumont

Amy March x Laurie

Rich Gecko x Kate Fuller

Anastasia x Dimitri

I love AUs and crossovers: like HP meets Narnia, or something like that. Ask about Actors are good too. 

Free Stories 

These ones I pretend to write more of it or remake it. These will be long fanfics. Feel free to share ideas. If you want a one-shot involving these TV shows or movies is good too. 

Obs: Some of them may be only in my Wattpad account. * @lucy_beau

The Alienist; Dirk Gently; Northanger Abbey; Sherlock, Sanditon; The Adventures of Tintin; Chained; Fallet; Ripper Street; Byzantium, Jumanji; Carrie Pilby; Vallerian; The Name of The Rose, Crimpson Peak; Revenge; Red Sparrow; Hookup Plan; The Ottoman Lieutnant

Free Ask:

Saw a thing and want a fanfic? Send me the idea. The movie is bad but could be good? Let’s write it. Want a prompt but can’t write? Maybe I can do it. Send it to me!

Free fanfics or stories have a limited number of chapters: 20.

Obs: I don’t do terror. Horror? Yes. 

SEND!!!!

If you want to be in my TAGLIST, say.

Need some help getting ideas? Look here: Prompts

[elleclairez]

List of Fandoms (movies) I write for

I will update this list once in a while 

My Masterlist

MCU (all movies)

DCEU (all movies)

Knives Out

Hugh Ransom Drysdale

Ocean’s 11/12/13/8

Linus Caldwell

Narnia

Peter Pevensie

Edmund Pevensie

Harry Potter + Fantastic Beasts

Draco Malfoy

Fred Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Theseus Scamander

Credence Barebone

Newt Scamander

Young Remus Lupin

Young Sirius Black

Young Regulus Black

Percival Graves

Young Gellert Grindelwald

To all the boys I’ve loved before (1 and 2)

John Ambrose Mcclaren

Little Women (2020)

Theodore Laurence

The riot club

Alistair Ryle

Harry Villiers

James Leighton Masters

Dimitri Mitropoulos

Guy Bellingfield

Star Wars

Poe Dameron

Kylie Ren/Ben Solo

Luke Skylwalker

Obi Wan Kenobi

Star Trek

James Tiberius Kirk

Leonard « Bones » McCoy

Pavel Andreevich Chekhov

6 Underground

Four/Billy

Maleficent (1 and 2)

Diaval

The Maze Runner

Thomas

Newt

Minho

The Hobbit + Lord of the Rings

Legolas

Thranduil

Divergent

Eric

Peter

Matthew

After

Zed

Trevor

The Book Thief

Max Vanderburg

Kingsman 

Eggsy

Conrad

James Bond (only from Skyfall) 

Quartermaster

Hunger Games

Gale

Finnick

Peeta

[almarchive]

     hello, its nora bringing yet another problematic character. this is a spoiled daddy’s bitch, raised in a farmhouse in vermont, who’s never really had to work for anything in her life and doesn’t want to. studying class civ cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into lockwood. loves the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. has a twin brother called otto who is basically guy bellingfield from the riot club and tbh knowing my lack of self control i‘ll probs end up bringing him here too.

bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages x

it might be HER SOPHOMORE year but I still think ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM looks exactly like ALICE PAGANI and sometimes I think the FEMALE is actually them. Of course I’m wrong, as they’re 20 and studying CLASSICAL CIVILISATION while living in AUDAX here at Lockwood. The TAURUS can be rather TENACIOUS and MAGNETIC, but also kind of FANCIFUL and DOUBLE-CROSSING. Their most played song on Spotify was LAISSE TOMBER LES FILLES by FRANCE GALL, so I think that says a lot.

THE SHORT FORM.

—  born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immagrant and worked on a plantation, made his wa up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had Large Personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit Wise Beyond Her Years. — very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french. — studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin. — isn’t a foward-planner, however. frida prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night. — pretentious motherfucker. LOVES poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very Intelligent and Beautiful and knows both of those facts. vocal feminist. soapbox sadie. Very Passionate about Issues. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. — just wants to be Loved By All. a party girl ; doesn’t rlly enjoy it, jst feels she Should enjoy it. — tries to be an Enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women Desirable and Interesting and Cool. — obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning. — her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramphone because “The Sound quality is Better” kfdsjj.

PLOTS.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends –  probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

people who live on the same floor and only know each other from brief interactions in the lift or the canteen

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

FULL BIOGRAPHY.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

            The girl is a knife. Razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. Silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. You’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. A mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. Bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. To have the power to control that is to be a God. It’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. Small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. You cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “Mama, when will I be a Queen?” As soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

            If you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. Hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? In the beginning, you never knew hunger. Twins, born under the same star, you first, him second -- a nuclear family. Never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. Raven-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. The townhouse in Vermont and the summer house in Lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

            At eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “Alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your Mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody Mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

            Your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather Wolfgang Hildegarde a German immigrant, great-grandmother Maura Lisbon a prairie girl. They fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the Indians, vacations to Calcutta, your father Todd Putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. He worked hard so that you’d never have to. Your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? That blood money had no business raising a child. You look far back enough, Edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a Civil War to silence, and I think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

            Language was never fickle on your tongue, French dinner time talk by the time you were out of your Hush Puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. You learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. By eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. Loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. That was how magnetic you wanted to feel. But mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to English boarding school.

            Fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. You were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. Wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed Harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. Tell us what it’s like in the States, Alma. They’d coo, enamoured by your Hollywood drawl. Does your father own a gun? You hardly knew. Barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. When you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

            The road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to small-town fame. Bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. There was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. In leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were Helen of Troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. But there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. Hockey helped. There was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. Sweat. Stiff knuckles. Feet pounding the earth. The smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “Slipped, sorry.” Hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. On the pitch, you feel alive.

[jamesginortonblog]

James Norton in Posh, 2010: 1. cast photo; 2. James Norton in Posh; 3. The cast

Gifs from the video The Royal Court Theatre on Newsnight

Posh by Laura Wades (original production) Royal Court Theatre, 9 April 2010

Cast: The Riot Club: Guy Bellingfield                  Joshua McGuire James Leighton-Masters    Tom Mison Toby Maitland                     Jolyon Coy George Balfour                   Richard Goulding Alistair Ryle                         Leo Bill Hugo Fraser-Tyrwhitt          David Dawson Harry Villiers                       Harry Hadden-Paton Miles Richards                    James Norton Dimitri Mitropoulos              Henry Lloyd-Hughes Ed Montgomery                  Kit Harington Plus: Jeremy Guy’s godfather   Simon Shepherd Chris The landlord of The Bull’s Head     Daniel Ryan Rachel Chris’ daughter     Fiona Button Charlie An escort              Charlotte Lucas

Director: Lyndsey Turner Designer: Anthony Ward Lighting Designer: Paule Constable Sound Designer: David McSeveney Assistant Director: James Yeatman Costume Supervisor: Jackie Orton Production Manager: Paul Handley Stage Manager: Nafeesah Butt

A great source of information: Royal Court Theatre: Posh - Resource Pack (pdf)

[riotousvilliers]

Riot Club Members ranked in order of General Shitheadedness. ( Most - Least )

1. Alistair Ryle. Evil dude. Basically riled everyone up at the dinner and genuinely believes that poor people are scum. You’re a shithead m8.

2. Dimitri Mitropoulos. Honestly gets so looked over both in terms of how much of a shit he is but also as a character in general. One of the ones who pretends to be good but is actually a peen. Emotionally manipulative peen.

3. Hugo Fraser-Tyrwhitt. Pompous bastard. Calls screwing up people’s lives and their work ‘debauchery’

4. Edward Montgomery. Sexist prick, condescending, classist. Sexually assaulted Lauren, should be castrated.

5. Guy Bellingfield. Threw a hissy fit because his ten bird roast only had nine birds in it. Shithead.

6. James Leighton-Masters. Self-obsessed, self-satisfying bastard. Too worried about being seen as a good club president to care when things go horribly wrong.

7. Harry Villiers. Not the worst but honestly still a prick. Despicable drunk.

8. Toby Maitland. 0 idea how to speak to women which leads him to being a general piece of shit.

9. Miles Richards. At least had the good sense to leave the group after they nearly killed a man. Still bad enough not to speak out about it and to go along with all of it until this point. Tries. But fails.

10. George Balfour. Honestly the closest to ‘good egg’ status in the group. Loves animals and doesn’t see anyone else as below him. Still almost beat a man to death though 0/10 effort get in the bin.

[club-riot]

[aoibhs]

Park

Chapter One 

Chapter Nineteen

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from The Riot Club/Posh, and all OCs were beautifully crafted by @club-riot

"Stop pushing me!" Guy whined as Ed and Toby poked and prodded him. "Get a move on, Bellend," Toby shoved him through the corridor. "This is totally unnecessary," Guy's argument was pointless. He had lost before he even started. "Bellingfield," Dimitri started, lazily following them, "We're getting tired of watching this go on and on," "Just because you've got a girlfriend you think you can order me around," Guy pointed at his best friend melodramatically. "Oh please, he's been doing that for years," Ed giggled, giving Guy another push. "Look, stop that," His demands fell on deaf ears. "She should be out of class in a few minutes," Dimitri looked at his watch, "Just wait here until she comes out, "She'll think I'm stalking her!" Guy did his best to reason with them but they really didn't care. "She doesn't care," Toby just shrugged. "We'll leave you here then," Ed grinned. "On my own?" "Yes," Dimitri nodded. "But-" "You'll be twenty in a few months, man up," Toby snorted. "This is different!" "No, you're being ridiculous," Dimitri sighed, the three of them backing away. "I don't know what to say!" Guy called after them. "You'll work it out," Dimitri waved just before the disappeared around the corner. Guy sighed and sat down on the bench at the exact moment the doors to the lecture theatre burst open. From the sudden noise, Guy jumped up again from the bench and stood there awkwardly as all the English students poured from the theatre. He waited there, trying to look as natural as possible but instead gained some funny looks from the first years. Then he saw her, about to head down the corridor. "Elizabeth!" He went after her, since she didn't notice him waiting. "Oh! Jesus, Guy!" She laughed, her hand clamped over her heart as if it would leap out of her chest. "Did I scare you?" "Oh yes, you're very scary altogether," She rolled her eyes, "What're you doing here?" "..What am I doing here?" "Yes, what are you doing here?" "Well, Elizabeth..," His posture went strange, almost fluid, in his nerves, a hand going up and down from his hip, "I was wondering if you wanted to go to the park?" "I would like to go to the park, I've got a few hours to kill until rehearsals," She checked the time on her phone and then put it back in her pocket before looking up at him and smiling, "Let's go," "Really?" "Yeah, come on," She laughed, already on her way out of the building. "Wait for me, hang on," He ran after her, even though she wasn't all that far ahead of him. "Don't you have anything else today?" She asked him. "No, I only had one lecture this morning," He grinned at her. "You weren't waiting for me that entire time were you?" Her face fell, "God, you must've been bored out of your skull," "Oh no, I was with Dimitri for a while," He assured her, "And now I'm with you," "So what was your lecture on?" She reached up to tuck a longer strand of her fringe behind her ear. "Oh, um, imperialism," He only hesitated because he was surprised she was interested at all. "Oh cool," She nodded, "That sounds fascinating," "Well, not always. We've got this massive essay to write for next week and a group presentation to do and everyone in my class is ruddy useless, let alone my group..," He trailed off, noticing that she was actually paying attention, listening to his complaints. "At least your group has you, eh?" That comment and small smile of hers drove Guy to let out the most inhuman of nervous giggles. "Stop," He rubbed the back of his head, trying to hide his growing nerves. "I love the University Parks," The brunette smiled, looking around at all the greenery. "Do you come here often?" "No, I usually just go to the library during my breaks," She shook her head. "Has anyone ever told you that you're only a first year?" Guy folded his arms and smirked at her. "James did and got me to go for drinks with him," Elizabeth chuckled, fond of the memories from the previous month. "He's a bit old for you, isn't he?" He looked over to the empty cricket pitch. "He's only the same age as my brother," Elizabeth spluttered a laugh, "James is just a good friend, no need to get all protective," She spotted a bench near the pitch, walking ahead to sit down. "Am I protective like your brothers?" Guy walked quicker to catch up with her, he just ended up looking overeager. "You think you're like a brother?" She wasn't entirely sure where this was going. "I'll take that as a no," There was a significant trace of smugness in his face as he sat down next to her. "My brothers are too busy in Cambridge to be protective," She laughed, "You're not in Cambridge so you're already a different story," "Good," Guy nodded, a slight smile growing on his lips. She looked at him, at that smile, at his lips. She wondered what he was thinking. She impulsively was about to ask him that but his phone began to ring just as she opened her mouth, "Sorry," "No, go ahead," She looked at her hands. "Hello, Guy Bellingfield," He answered his phone, "Oh, is this The Bull's Head in Kidsbury? Excellent! I've been expecting your call," Elizabeth smiled to herself at how enthusiastic he was, "Yes I did have a special request for the mains," He nudged her shoulder and held up his index finger, to tell her that he'd only be a moment, "No, no, a ten bird roast.. No, no, ten.. Yes, ten." He nodded a few times as he spoke, pursing his lips. Elizabeth could tell this was something important to him, "Call again during official business hours if you have any inquiries," Then he hung up. "Official business hours?" Elizabeth grinned, "You're either prestigious or pretentious," "I'm great president material, excuse you," He grinned back. Only then did Elizabeth notice how close they were sitting together. It made her pulse go that bit quicker. He noticed her change in expression and smirked. He leaned in closer, as if he was going to whisper something to her. Just then there was a loud rumble from the sky and it began lashing rain as if on cue. "Oh! Oh dear," Elizabeth tried to cover herself up as much she could, but a dress and cardigan were no match for English weather. "Here," Guy took off his coat and draped it over her head and shoulders, "Come on!" He grabbed her by the hand and they ran through the park. "Shall we go get some coffee?" Elizabeth nearly had to yell over the heavy rain. Guy just laughed as they sprinted. "Yes, please!"

Chapter Twenty-One

[londontheatre]

Full casting and U.S. dates for Eugene O’Neill’s Long Day’s Journey Into Night are announced today. Jessica Regan will return to the role of Cathleen, having played her in the 2016 Bristol Old Vic production. Matthew Beard and Rory Keenan will join the company as Edmund Tyrone and James Tyrone Jr alongside the previously announced Jeremy Irons and Lesley Manville, who will play James and Mary Tyrone in Richard Eyre’s acclaimed Bristol Old Vic production.

Considered one of the most powerful American plays of the 20th century, the production will play a strictly limited 10 week West End season at Wyndham’s Theatre from 27 January to 7 April before transferring to Brooklyn Academy of Music (BAM) Harvey Theater (8-27 May) and the Wallis Annenberg Center for Performing Arts in Los Angeles (8 June – 1 July).

The Tyrones’ summer home, August 1912. Haunted by the past but unable to face the truth of the present, the Tyrones and their two sons test the bonds of a family caught in the cycle of love and resentment. As day turns to night and the family indulge in their vices, the truth unravels leaving behind a quartet of ruined lives.

Matthew Beard will play Edmund Tyrone. With credits across stage and screen, Matthew is best known for his work in film, including the roles of Guy Bellingfield in The Riot Club, Peter Hilton in The Imitation Game, Howard Raymond in The Look of Love and a young Blake Morrison in And When Did You Last See Your Father? Other screen credits include One Day, Chatroom, Acid Burn, An Education, Panic Buddy and Singularity. Matthew made his stage debut as Edward in Skylight (Wyndham’s Theatre) starring Carey Mulligan and Bill Nighy, for which he was nominated for a Tony Award when the production transferred to Broadway.

Jeremy Irons plays James Tyrone. A Bristol Old Vic Theatre School graduate, he began his professional career on the Bristol Old Vic stage in 1969. After years of success in the West End, Irons made his Broadway debut in 1984 opposite Glenn Close in The Real Thing, which won him a Tony Award. An internationally renowned actor, he is well known not only for films such as The French Lieutenant’s Woman, The Mission, Being Julia, Lolita and Reversal of Fortune for which he won an Oscar, but also for the variety of his work – everything from The Lion King to The Borgias. He is one of only a handful of actors to have won an Oscar, a Tony and an Emmy for his body of work.

Rory Keenan will play James Tyrone Jr. Keenan has a rich list of television credits, best known for the role of Bilibin in the latest BBC adaption of War and Peace, Simon in Stan Lee’s Lucky Man and Donal in Peaky Blinders. Other screen credits include Primeval, Birdsong, The Clinic, Aristocrats, Dear Dilemma, a leading role in two series of On Home Ground, Intermission, Ella Enchanted, Reign Of Fire, Close, Gun and Benedict Arnold. As well as his extensive credits in film and television, Rory has starred in a variety of stage shows including Welcome Home Captain Fox directed by Blanche McIntyre (Donmar Warehouse), Someone Who’ll Watch Over Me directed by Michael Attenborough and Liola directed by Richard Eyre (National Theatre).

Lesley Manville plays Mary Tyrone. An award-winning actress, she is a frequent collaborator with director Mike Leigh, winning the London Film Critics’ Circle Award for British Actress of the Year for her work in both his 2002 film All or Nothing and his 2010 film Another Year, for which she also won the National Board of Review Award for Best Actress. Manville’s extensive stage career includes roles in Top Girls (Royal Court 1990), Les Liaisons Dangereuses (RSC 1986), His Dark Materials (National Theatre 2005), Pillars of the Community (National Theatre 2005) and Six Degrees of Separation (Old Vic 2010). In 2012, she was nominated for an Olivier Award for her role in Leigh’s play Grief (National Theatre 2011), before going on to win the 2014 Olivier Award for Best Actress for her role in the revival of Ghosts (Almeida 2013) directed by Richard Eyre.

Jessica Regan will reprise the role as Cathleen from the 2016 Bristol Old Vic production. Until recently, Jessica played regular Niamh Donoghue in Doctors for the BBC, for which she has won Best Newcomer at the British Soap Awards. Other theatre credits include Henry V (Regent’s Park Open Air Theatre), Liola for the National Theatre (directed by Richard Eyre), Stars In The Morning Sky for Belgrade Coventry; The Kitchen, The Cherry Orchard and Blood And Gifts, all at the National Theatre, and The Flags at the Royal Court Liverpool.

Director Richard Eyre is widely considered to be the UK’s greatest living director. Eyre was director of the National Theatre between 1987 and 1997. His most noted theatre productions include Hamlet (twice), with Jonathan Pryce at the Royal Court in 1980 and Daniel Day-Lewis in 1989; Richard III with Ian McKellen; King Lear with Ian Holm; Henrik Ibsen’s John Gabriel Borkman with Paul Scofield, Vanessa Redgrave and Eileen Atkins; and numerous new plays by David Hare, Tom Stoppard, Trevor Griffiths, Howard Brenton, Alan Bennett, Christopher Hampton and Nicholas Wright. He also directed the musical Mary Poppins in London and on Broadway. He has been the recipient of numerous directing awards including five Olivier Awards, including an Olivier Lifetime Achievement Award, and awards from The Directors’ Guild of Great Britain, the South Bank Show, the Evening Standard and the Critics’ Circle. In November 2013, he once again won the Evening Standard Award for Best Director for Ibsen’s Ghosts starring Lesley Manville at the Almeida Theatre. This production transferred to the West End and to Broadway.

Richard Eyre is joined by set and costume designer Rob Howell who has designed sets and costumes for numerous plays and musicals in the UK, in London and on Broadway over a 20-year period. Howell has won three Olivier Awards for Best Set Design. The most recent of these was for his work on the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Matilda the Musical, for which he was nominated for a Tony Award.

International Lighting Designer Peter Mumford has been working in theatre for over 40 years. He is a two-time Olivier Award winner, with work in the West End including Top Hat, Much Ado About Nothing, An Ideal Husband, The Lion in Winter and Absent Friends. He has recently worked with Chichester, Sheffield Crucible, Royal Court, Almeida and the Peter Hall Company.

Sound Designer John Leonard ran the sound department at Bristol Old Vic from 1970 to 1976. He went on to join the Royal Shakespeare Company and in 1984 he was made the company’s first head of sound and an associate artist of the company. He works regularly for the Almeida Theatre in London, for whom he is Sound Associate, as well as the National Theatre and in the West End.

Long Day’s Journey Into Night tickets

LONDON LISTINGS LONG DAY’S JOURNEY INTO NIGHT by Eugene O’Neill

Director Richard Eyre Set and Costume Designer Rob Howell Lighting Design Peter Mumford Sound Design John Leonard

Wyndham’s Theatre Charing Cross Rd, London WC2H 0DA

http://ift.tt/2AJvfHi London Theatre 1