#Love & Sex Problem In Liverpool

[foreverisntenough]

‘OURS’

Summary: You were his and he was yours but what would it be like adding one more? Thrust into a whirlwind romance you never could’ve imagined that became your forever love. You continue building a new life across the pond with a very beautiful Scouser. A sequel to the ‘You’re Mine’ fic.

INDEX

Warnings: This series will contain fluff, suggestion, smut (unprotected sex,) pregnancy, parenting, mention of the word ‘daddy,’ kind of angsty, alcohol consumption - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! Try not to nitpick with any real pregnant logistics it’s better if you just read along happily :)

Chapter 10 - He’s All Yours | ‘Ours’

The final day of your trip to New York arrived. You and Trent wanted to do some shopping. It was cold but still sunny out so you opted to head down to SoHo for it. You hit it up Prada, Aime Leon Dore, Acne Studios, and all your favorites. You wanted to stop at Sporty & Rich as well so you pushed Teddy in her pram down the pavement of Greene Street holding Trent’s hand. About half way down the block a Tiktokker came up to you trying to film a video.

“Your family is gorgeous, do you mind if I ask you a few questions for a video?” The boy asked, standing with a microphone while someone else filmed for him. You looked at Trent to see his reaction. You didn’t mind but you also weren’t the famous athlete.

“Thanks, mate. Yeah, it’s no problem.” Trent answered him while he pressed a kiss to your hair before he leaned over to check on Teddy. Seeing him elicited a giggle from her as she kicked her feet in her seat.

“Can I get your names first?” The interviewer asked politely. You looked at Trent for him to respond. You didn’t know what his plan of action would be here so you wanted him to take the lead.

“This is my fiancé, Y/N, I’m Trent, and this is Teddy.” He spoke soft and slow like always as he tickled her tummy. She continued in her fit of giggles with a big smile.

“Nice to meet you all. Where are you from, bro? That accent is crazy.” The kid laughed a little surprised by Trent’s diction. You guessed you were around it so much you hardly heard it anymore but you understood why someone living in New York might be confused by the Liverpudlian accent.

“It’s definitely something.” You giggled resting your head on Trent's shoulder. “I’m from here but he’s English.” You looked up at Trent as you informed the tiktokker.

“Nah, no way that’s English. It’s not.” The boy tried to convince you Trent wasn’t English. He wasn’t going to succeed obviously, it was just a bit of banter but he obviously assumed everyone in England had one accent that you presumably believed to be the more London posh one.

“Hate to disappoint, bro but I’m definitely from the north of England. Liverpool.” Trent confirmed he in fact was English.

“Oh sick. Do you guys watch soccer then? That’s big there right?” He asked genuinely curious. You appreciated the conversational manner he was trying to induce. It was friendly and polite. Normal. You both laughed a little not trying to be rude or patronizing but it was funny.Trent was famous but if you didn’t follow football it was a bit of a reach to recognize him. Nevertheless, to say you watched ‘soccer’ would be an understatement.

“Yeah… I guess you could say we do. Our life pretty much revolves around it.” You giggled more before Teddy started making some noises. You crouched down to her level. You picked her up and she clung to you eagerly.

“Wow, she’s adorable. So do you mind running me through your fits?” The boy cooed as his camera man moved for a different angle to include the full length of what you were wearing.

“Aw, thank you. Yeah, this is our little Teddy bear. She’s in Moncler.” You pinched her chubby cheek rubbing your cold nose against hers.” Erm… and I’m wearing Max Mara.” You were in a long Teddy coat that felt like you were still wrapped up in bed. “Louis Vuitton boots and a silly Saint Laurent take out box for a purse.” You laughed displaying your bag.

“That purse is incredible. I love it. What drew you to that?” He asked inspecting the kitschy leather box.

“It was a pregnancy craving. I give him a baby, he gives me a bag. It was a simple transaction.” you teased with a slight laugh looking at Trent amused.

“A bag?” Trent joked emphasizing that he most definitely bought you more than one singular bag during your ‘cravings’. He was in a Prada coat, trousers and trainers. Simple and all black. The kid had a few questions but flicked back to you.

“Mind talking me through some of your jewelry?” He asked so you nodded and started going piece by piece. “ My necklace is Van Cleef.” You smiled. It was the one you always wore that Trent gave you when he asked you to be his girlfriend. Only now it was a little funny because as you went through the rings on your finger, from your right hand starting with a David Yurman pinky ring first then to your Spinelli Kilcollin. You jumped over to your left hand and ultimately got to your ring finger with its newly adorned ring.

“Holy shit! That ring is insane. It’s beautiful. Congratulations. Bro, can I ask what do you do for work.” The boy keenly asked Trent curious what some random man he was interviewing on the street did to afford that. Trent rubbed his hand over his face, a little embarrassed by the spotlight on him and the size of your ring. He wanted you to have it be that way though. He designed it from scratch practically and he frankly believed you deserved a bigger one.

“I’m a footballer.” Trent answered plain and simple like always. With people he didn’t know Trent was always concise. He didn’t beat around the bush.

“Like the NFL?” The interviewer's eyes widened, starting to believe he was talking to a professional athlete. He was, just not kind he was initially thinking. You couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Trent was strong and athletic. I mean, he’s perfect and sexy but him playing in the NFL would be far fetched. You mouthed a ‘sorry’ up at Trent for your blunt reaction holding onto his bicep

“No.” Trent laughed with you, agreeing that it definitely was funny. “Nah, mate. Soccer, I guess.” Trent cringed saying the word. “I play in the Premier League.” He further explained. You felt his body tense saying that word. It made you smile remembering in the first few weeks of dating he convinced you to drop the word soccer entirely.

“Oh that’s so cool. Shit, now I feel like an idiot. I asked if you watched it.” He laughed nervously running his hand through his hair staring at the ground. You reached your arm out to pat his arm reassuring him it wasn’t a big deal.

“Don’t, he’s not that big of a deal.” You teased. Trent squeezed your waist silently complaining that you’d say that joke or not. The TikTok interview ended and he asked for your instagram handles to tag you when it was posted. You shared them not thinking much.

“Um 11 million followers is a big deal, Jesus.” The interviewer looked at his friend who was filming as you walked away with your family.

You sat in an airport lounge waiting to board your flight back into Manchester. You were slumped on a couch with your forever accessory clung to you. Teddy cooed away as if she was having a full conversation with you. You nodded along with ‘yeahs’ and ‘mmhmms’ entertaining her. You peeked your head up briefly away from her though to check on Trent. He was sitting across from you, legs spread scrolling through his phone. He looked good. Really good so you sent him a cheeky text.

‘Dadddyyyy 🥵🥵🥵’

You obviously sent it as a joke. You watched him read it and shake his head. He didn’t pick his gaze up though. He just shot you a text back.

‘Relax, please. We’re in an airport 🙄’

“Never stopped you before.” You said aloud. After receiving his response.

“Yeah, well, it’s stopping me right now.” He laughed. He stood up and walked over to you, plopping down on the couch you were sitting on. “Ted, isn’t mummy silly?” He cooed. She just drooled a little and you shrugged as if Teddy had responded ‘no, dad she’s not.’ You cuddled into him and laid on his chest as cozy and appropriately as you could given your location.

“I was thinking… T, do you think it’s bad we told that TikToker we were engaged?” You asked him quietly looking at your ring currently resting on Trent’s thigh.

“Do you not want to be engaged?” He said in a dramatic overly offended way. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics. “Give it back then.” He swiftly went to take your ring off your finger. You snatched your hand away from him before he could.

“T! Stop! I’m so serious.” You laughed despite trying not to. “I’m worried.” You looked at him with fear in your eyes. A look he hated to see and a look he always wanted to fix as quick as possible. He sat up a little and cupped one of your cheeks.

“Nah, baby it’ll be the same thing we’ve done with other news as always. If people find out, people find out. If we want to post, we can post. Try not stress about this one. Let’s just enjoy this. Me and you.” He cooed soft and securely. He had a tone he’d fall into that just calmed your whole body. You collapsed into his chest some more before Teddy pulled at his shirt. “Oh yeah, sorry, you too. You’re included obviously.” He joked looking at her.

“We’re a package deal, aren’t we, baby?” You kissed Teddy’s cheek before returning your head to its comfortable place on Trent. You pulled Teddy with you.

“Sign me up then.” Trent cooed, wrapping his arms around both of you. “My girls always.”

You boarded the plane and walked to first class. Trent handled all of your carry ons. You sat down holding teddy and everything was fine. That was until Trent sat down and gently pinched Teddy’s chubby little leg and she screamed with a loud giggle.

“Shhhhh. Teddy girl, you have to be quiet.” He said muddied in a laugh. He couldn’t hide the smile on his face. He looked at you wide eyed and jaw slacked about how loud she seemed on the quiet plane.

“Oh” you began to laugh. “I forgot you haven’t flown with this cute girl yet.” You squished Teddy into a hug recalling your first flight. You have to give credit where it’s due she was actually pretty well behaved it’s just that her squeals seemed to be inordinately loud in the cabin of the plane.

“Oh my days. Can’t be doing that, Ted.” He picked her up from you. And sat her on his lap over on his seat next to the window. He rested his chin on the top of her head while they looked outside. She kicked and giggled, pulling on his hair having the time of her life with daddy.

“Yeah, you handle all that.” You laughed gesturing to Teddy. “I need to sleep on this flight.” You smiled connivingly, watching Teddy stir about in his lap.

“You sleep. Me and Ted will hang. Right, baby bear?” Trent cooed looking down at her. She had a big smile on her face and that was all that really mattered. He reached his hand out and squeezed yours. Before you knew it you were landing back in England.

You got home and collapsed on to your livingroom couch. The dogs ran chaotically towards you hopping onto the cushions and laid on you excited you were finally back home.

“Hi boyssss…” you cooed giving them all the attention they so missed. Marcel usually watched them if you weren’t around. You don’t know how you’d survive without Trent’s family. They did so much for you. You were so blessed to be invited into the Alexander-Arnold family. Every so often for the last few days you’d get reminded that you were going to change your name. It felt strange. You hadn’t really digested it fully yet. Trent came over to sit after he had changed Teddy.

“Want to watch a movie or something? I’m exhausted and I have training early tomorrow.” Trent said handing you your baby and proceeding to practically lay on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist and dropping his head in your lap.

“You pick.” You hummed, not upset by his intrusion of your space.

Teddy was 6 months old today. You were in the kitchen and Teddy was in her high chair. Trent was off for training soon so you were making breakfast for him and Teddy. Lately, you’d been skipping breakfast. You were finding that getting the baby weight off wasn’t has easy as you had anticipated. You’d always been so fit and athletic you thought you’d just bounce back but that wasn’t the case. You were working out again but it was hard to find the time or energy now when you were taking care of a baby al day. It definitely didn’t help that you lived with someone who was chronically in shape. Trent’s fitness was an essential part of his job. Teddy was still breastfeeding. It was still her main source of nutrition which was fine but it wasn’t enough so you were beginning to introduce solid food to her. She was growing so fast it almost made you a little sad. The breakfast for your 6 month old today was porridge and mashed fruit.

“That looks…. “ Trent made a face not particularly enticed by the dish walking into the kitchen. You laughed at him. He pushed the plate away from you before he came to give a kiss.

“It’s good for a 6 month old!!! Huh, Ted? Getting to be such a big girl!” You cooed excitedly as she wiggled in her chair with hungry eyes.

“My baby bear, gotta stop growing please. Have to stay just like this forever.” Trent cooed sitting next to her. He gave her a big kiss against her little pout with an ever dramatic ‘Mwah’ sound that she loved. She giggled grabbing at him with her tiny hands.

“Like what happened?” You walked towards the two of them with her food. “She got so old. I feel like we just brought her home.” You cooed taking a seat.

“Yeah…” he hummed reminiscing about your first days as a family of 3. “We did a really good job to be fair like she’s perfect. Look at this face.” He squished her cheeks together with one of his big hands. Anytime Trent did anything, said anything, Teddy would be giggling away. Completely in love and very amused by him. .

“That’s genuinely your face, T. She is you.” You teased him. They looked just about identical. Even Dianne was shocked from the second she saw Teddy at the hospital the day she was born. They were twins and Trent loved it. You did like it too. Whenever he was away it was like you had a mini version of him around that didn’t talk or eat as much.

“Mmmm, it’s yummy, baby.” You took a baby spoon and tried to get Teddy to eat. “T, eat some. She’ll do it if you do it.” He gave you a face like ‘are you fucking having a laugh?’ He had a weird thing with food textures and porridge was on the list of things he’d prefer to avoid .

“Mmm yum Ted.” He grimaced while swallowing the smallest possible bit of your baby’s food. He turned away from Teddy for only you to see and made a face as if he was going to be sick.

“Very convincing, T.” You laughed. “Not even our 6 month old is buying that.” You teased him for his poor performance. He was such a drama queen all the time which was getting progressively more funny as his actions mirrored the ones your literal child did. You continued feeding her porridge and fruit as Teddy finally gave in. You fed her slowly and patiently but persistent. You felt a little guilty though pushing so hard for her to eat. It was ironic trying to get your baby girl to eat her breakfast to grow strong and be healthy when you were currently skipping meals to get back to what once was. What was unfortunate was the likelihood of returning back to your body you had before a baby was slim, almost impossible. You could get fit, lose weight but the big changes, your hips, your boobs, things had changed that you couldn’t alter. You had thought you kept a pretty tight lid on your feelings about your body because Trent hated when you spoke negatively about yourself. You may have kept quiet but the thing was, you weren’t all that subtle with your actions. You thought he didn’t notice but he kept tabs on you all the time. He knew you struggled. You'd talked about it plenty of times and he wanted to make sure you were okay with out making you uncomfortable. So this morning as he drank a protein shake and your little girl devoured all her food. It wasn’t lost on him you sat at the table and only had a lemon water. Trent’s livelihood depended on his fitness. It stressed you out wondering what people would think about the way you looked now. When you looked in the mirror it felt like a different person. The anxiety was almost debilitating as you got ready for a home match at Anfield. Trent was ecstatic because you finally caved and decided that at 6 months you could probably bring Teddy to finally go see him play.

You got into your car with Teddy tucked in her car seat. She was in her red Liverpool jersey #66 with daddy on the back. She had on a sweat set (imagine this in red) with it and tiny white Nike trainers on. She looked really really cute. You didn’t really dress yourself with the same team spirit per se as you had dressed her. You’d been to too many games at this point. It was just one of many. You threw on a pair of dark jeans that were finally starting to fit you again, an oversized black Celine sweater that was Trent’s you stole with black Dior slingback heels and you guessed what was a topical red shearling bag from Khaite. You walked through the stadium keeping a low profile. No one else from the Alexander-Arnold family was going tonight so you didn’t want to draw any unnecessary attention. Although it was particularly unhelpful that the spitting image of Trent in your arms would squeal and try to point at the walls anytime you walked past a massive image of him. You held Teddy in your arms outside the box overlooking the pitch.

“Is that daddy? Do you see dada?” You cooed sweet and she giggled just simply hearing about him. You attempted to point down to where Trent was warming up. Following his movements with your finger for her but you were pretty sure she couldn’t make out that it was him but it was still fun and cute to watch. Trent stopped his preparations momentarily to scan the stands for you. He found the box and combed through the people to find you and Teddy. He blew you a kiss and made a heart with his hands. You laughed and squeezed Teddy some more. “Say hi to dada, Ted. We’ll blow him a kiss, okay?” Helping her press her palm to her pout identical to his to blow him a kiss. “Good job, Teddy bear.” You praised her efforts. You blew him your own kiss. Andy came over to Trent on the pitch and threw his arm around his shoulder. You could see them yapping away you assumed about Teddy. Andy waved and so you did back. Having Teddy at the match was really special. This was a moment you and Trent always dreamed of.

When the final whistle blew you waited upstairs for Trent as you always did but this time you had company. It was fun and nice. You felt like you had made yourself a best friend and even though she couldn’t even talk yet. You just liked her company.

“I heard the real TAA is here tonight.” You heard Andy’s voice before you could see him. A few boys walked into the room. Trent obviously came first directly over to you. He planted a big kiss on your lips and then took Teddy to say hi to the other guys that came up with him.

“I think congratulations are in order. Go on, let’s see it.” Robbo pressed eager to see your new engagement ring. You stuck out your hand and wiggled your fingers to show it off. They oooo’d and ahhh’d teasing you and Trent all out of love.

“Thank you.” You smiled cheekily watching your fiancé walk to the big glass windows of the box with Teddy in his arms. He proudly pointed around the stadium telling her little things, the pitch, the goals.

“I wanna bring her down to the pitch.” Trent turned to you. You nodded. When you got down to the level Trent walked you out through the tunnel. You didn’t do this often so it was still a pretty cool experience for you. Trent didn’t bat an eye, it was old hat for him. You intertwined your hand with Trent’s as he carried Teddy out onto the pitch. He walked to the center and sat down with her on the perfectly cut and pristine grass.

“This is where daddy works. What do you think, baby? Maybe you can play here one day like me.” He babbled away as Teddy’s eyes lit watching his animated face explain to her how a corner kick works. Necessary information for your 6 month old. It was precious watching them. You stood a small distance away letting them have their moment but you were getting nervous she was cold after being outside for so long.

“T, can you zip her up please, I don’t want her to get chilly.” You cooed sweetly as Teddy cuddled close to Trent. He smiled and placed the back of his hand onto her chubby cheek trying to gage if she was. He looked at her little nose that was starting to run and he felt bad.

“Are you chilly, baby bear?” Trent cooed but she just giggled clumsily falling onto his chest nuzzling her face to his. “Okay, C’mere.” Trent picked her up some and zipped her tiny puffer coat and then unzipped the Nike tech he was in. He held her closer to his chest and zipped his jacket up over the two of them. “Much better now, hm?” He kissed her forehead. You stayed way to late at Anfield but Trent was happy. When it was getting closer to when Teddy usually went down for bed, you needed to call it a night and get home.

After her first match, Teddy definitely was able to put together that when you watched matches on TV it was daddy. When the cameras would pan to just Trent she would squeal and wiggle on your lap. She couldn’t talk yet but you felt like she was getting there making ‘da’ noises when she saw him. She finally was getting the ability to perceive music and toys. She’d hold the bear rattle Marcel got her for Christmas all day just shaking it and giggling. Every time he was over at your house he was gassed that it was her toy of choice to hold. You were so relieved she was a happy baby. It made you feel like you were doing an okay job. Her giggle acting as a confirmation. She was actively paying attention and responding to her name a bit more now too. It was amazing to watch something, a human, your baby, grow and learn.

You laid on the couch one late afternoon with Teddy cuddled up to you under a blanket watching a show on tv for her. She started to whine and you deduced that she was hungry or thirsty. You paused the show and suddenly she began to cry.

“What, Ted? What’s wrong.” You attempted to soothe her but laughed a little bit that when you hit play again for the show to resume she seemed to calm. You stood up with the show still playing on the telly, holding her to walk but she began to cry again. “Teddy, I can’t get you what you want if you won’t let me go and sorry, but you’re not big enough to sit on the couch without me, are you?” You giggled. You wiped away her tears and plopped yourself back down feeling defeated but determined to find a solution. Your solution was somewhere else in the house. You grabbed your phone and FaceTimed Trent. He was in the cinema watching god knows what. He answered assuming it was going to be you so his tone was slightly different than the one he had if he was speaking to Teddy.

“What do you…” he paused realizing it wasn’t just you. “Oh, wow. What did I do to deserve a call from the most beautiful girls in the world?” You rolled your eyes at his cheesiness and readjusted your hold of Teddy.

“We’re thirsty.” You said plain and simple but gave him no other context. Teddy sniffled with a tiny grin and her breathing began to slowed now that she was able to see Trent.

“Okay?” Trent was slightly confused. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help, he just didn’t know or understand what he was being asked to do. He sat up a bit straighter in his chair.

“Teddy girl, do you need a baba?” You cooed looking at her. Again, she couldn’t talk but Trent picked up on what he was indirectly being asked to do now.

“I’m going to get it but just out of curiosity, why you couldn't?” He laughed. You paused the TV again and Teddy began to fuss pulling at your shirt. Her breathing getting shorter, tears welling. Trent nodded catching on that clearly Teddy was in a mood. “I see. Alright, I will be right there, baby bear.” A short while later he arrived, bottle in hand.

“I have a baba for a Ms. Teddy Alexander Arnold.” You heard Trent’s footsteps walk around the couch. Teddy’s eyes lit up seeing Trent come in. She grabbed eagerly for her bottle. “I don’t even get a thank you? Sheessshhh.” He dropped down on the seat next to you on the couch.

“Can you say thank you, dada? We love you so much. Takes such good care of us. Huh?” You rested your head onto Trent. He leaned back and kicked his feet up on the couch grabbing Teddy to lay on his chest with her bottle.

“Just like mummy, ya know? So needy for daddy.” Trent continued to babble to Teddy teasing you indirectly.

“Excuse me?” You laughed with feigned offense. You attempted to cuddle up into Trent but Teddy wasn’t having it. She let out grumpy ‘pah’ noises. She scrunched her nose. Your eyes widened, surprised by her response. “Sorry, okay. He’s all yours I guess.” You held your hands up in innocence. You pretended to be outwardly upset for Teddy to understand and see. You pouted your lips dramatically. The thing was that it actually did hurt your feelings a little. She loved being with Trent all the time lately. Why did she not want you there as well?

“Can mummy join, please? Have to share.” Trent cooed to her. He pulled you into him despite her protests. He kissed you on the lips and you would’ve thought she had gotten hurt or something. The way she yelped. She almost started to cry again, eyes watering, getting upset and annoyed you were kissing her dad. Her grubby little hands grabbing for Trent.

“Okay, okay. I get it. Daddy’s all yours. He was mine first just saying.” You playfully bit at one of her chubby legs dangling off Trent’s torso. “I’m gonna go start dinner for us.” You turned looking up at Trent.

“Yeah, alright. Thank you, baby.” Trent cooed, squeezing you to him once more to your daughters displeasure before you got up. About halfway to the kitchen you could hear her giggles start up again. You had thought they were a confirmation of you doing a good job but maybe you weren’t, maybe only Trent was. Insecurity getting the best of you, not even just the best, it was getting all of you.

“Wowwww mummmmy.” Trent had come home from training to find you in the kitchen bouncing Teddy on your hip. You turned your head to look at him unimpressed. As of late, you didn’t feel very great about yourself and certainly far from sexy.

“Please stop.” You rejected his compliment. He had come home in the late afternoon but you had plans to go out tonight. Dianne was going to take Teddy and the turnaround time you had was tight so you were getting a little stressed.

“You’ve been looking so good lately, honest.” He came up and held you from behind, placing tender kisses onto the most sensitive parts of your neck. You hummed. Even though you weren't feeling your sexiest Trent definitely knew just how to make you feel good.

“I am going to feed her then I have to go get ready, shower and all that before your mum comes over.” You turned in to Trent. Teddy grabbing onto his jumper excited he was finally back home.

“I can help you shower if you want.” He gave you a cheeky smile that was so pretty and very hard to resist but you couldn’t do that right now. You really had to hurry. Teddy had been attached to you all day preventing you from getting things you needed to do done.

“No, T.” You laughed. “Someone needs to watch this little bear. Been so fussy all day.” You handed her to him and to no surprise she was thrilled. “She literally cried every time I did anything but hold her.” It only made matters worse when you handed her to him she was calm, giggly, and happy. Of course, she'd behave for him. You hopped upstairs and jumped into the shower starting the process of getting ready. When you were finished you sat in your wardrobe and sighed. You felt like absolutely nothing looked good. Nothing fit right. Trent walked into your bedroom with Teddy swinging her around as they both laughed away. As envious as you were becoming about her attachment to him, you did really love to hear the sound of their combined giggles.

“Does this look okay? I just feel like my clothes don’t look right anymore or am I supposed to dress more like a mum?” you asked Trent as you gave him a twirl in a red rhinestone mini dress. It was almost see through. It had a draped neckline that usually you would love how your boobs looked in something like that but now after breastfeeding it just felt…wrong to do for some reason. It was unreasonable short when when you put on your heels. Everything was just off.

“Baby. This is fucking sexy trust me…” Trent slapped his hand over his mouth after he heard himself curse in front of Teddy. You laughed at his reaction. “I actually might need to leave the room before I get too excited. Your boobs look amazing, your legs look amazing. And let’s be real here… That face is just stunning. You could wear a paper bag and still be gorgeous.” You softly smiled appreciating his compliment and attempt to boost your confidence. Trent sat on the bed with Teddy playing while you finished getting ready. You could tell he had picked up on her favoritism lately but didn’t want to bring it up in case it mad you feel worse but he was trying though.

“Ted, doesn’t mummy look beautiful? You have the most pretty mummy.” he cooed while playing with her growing curls. You faked a smile knowing it was said with love, it just was confusing you that for some reason you were having to convince your own baby to like you. Dianne came over and Teddy cried as you left. It hurt you every time she was upset but it definitely was on your mind now wondering if she was upset you were leaving or because he was.

You came home later than expected and probably a little drunker than you anticipated too. You were passionately and messily making out practically before you could even make it into the house. You were all over each other. Trent was determined and when he had his mind set on something particularly when it came to matter like fucking you he was going to get his way. He pushed you up against the kitchen island raising the hem of your dress, creeping his big hands closer to where you wanted them. You moaned lost in the moment. He was trying to fuck in the your kitchen. He lifted you up from under your thighs and placed you on the cold marble surface.

“Oh my fucking god. You’re so sexy, baby” he groaned between messy kisses then beginning to work some down your neck. It occurred to you very quickly though the second you heard him that he was speaking fairly loud.

“T! T! Wait!” you yelped stifling a moan you wanted to let out, feeling his plump lips on your skin. “Your mum! Your mum. Hold on!” You pushed your palm against his chest trying to distance him from you. When he heard you mention his mum, things halted fast. He groaned, annoyed that you had a point. Embarrassingly, Dianne definitely must've heard you. She came down from upstairs with a cheeky smug smile on her face asking if you were having fun. She clearly heard. You knew she knew you two had sex. Hell, you had a baby together but you were still embarrassed. You said thank you and she headed out. Trent moved rapidly to your bedroom. You stopped in Teddy’s nursery first to check if she was still asleep, which she was soundly. You kissed her forehead and walked back to your room. You weren't exactly surprised when you came in and found Trentnt sat on your bed in only his boxers, cock tenting hard in them, leaning back on his arms, legs spread. You'd be lying if you said you weren't immediately turned on. You stood in front of him and slowly peeled the straps of your dress off your shoulders. You let the fabric drop to the floor leaving you in just a matching lacy set.

“C’mere right now.” Trent commanded you. You could see the fire and lust burning behind his stare. You pushed his chest with your palm laying him back on the bed. You straddled over him, casually grinding your wet covered core over his cock. You grabbed his one hand and dragged it over your bare stomach, around to your back and up to the clasp of your lace bralette. He unhooked it with ease, you tits bouncing out free from the material.

“Is this what you wanted downstairs?” You cooed seductively, getting yourself all excited for what was about to happen. In true form, Trent of course had to be just a tad annoying.

“Hey, hey, my daughters in the other room…” he teased acting as if this was all your idea, that he didnt start this whole thing, that he didnt want to fuck you right now. You huffed annoyed and stopped moving on top of him. He laughed a little and held your hips making sure you didn't get off him.

“Please daddy.” you whined slyly knowing he wouldn't be able to resist. You watched the teasing smirk he had drop almost instantaneously. A small smile grew on your face watching his reaction. You began rolling your hips again aching for the contact. You moaned when your clit rubbed against his bulge. Trent kept one hand on your hip guiding your movements but brought his other to cup your cheek then swiftly dragged his thumb across your lips. He slipped it into your mouth with ease. You sucked on it like you would his cock. He groaned when your eyes began to flutter closed with a sigh. You desperately sped up your movements grinding on top of him simultaneously swirling your tongue around his finger. He pulled it out and slipped his now wet fingers down through your folds. Suave as ever he dipped two of his fingers inside of you. You moaned blinking down at him begging without a word. He curled his fingers just the way you liked.

“Do you want more, baby? Tell me what you want me to do for you.” He cooed, enjoying his view of you falling apart on top of him just from his fingers. Your pussy clenched with a whine at the way he spoke to you. A shiver ran down your spine.

“Mmhhm, T. please, baby.” You hummed as you nodded. “I want you to fuck me, please. I want you to make me take your cock.” Your dirty words were enough to stop all the teasing. You both were completely naked in an instant. He smiled looking up at you in awe. Somehow if it was even possible he was harder than he was before. You helped him line his hard cock already leaking precum with your entrance. He groaned as you sank down on him taking his whole length. You threw your head back at the feeling of him finally inside of you.

“You look so sexy, right now, baby. Fuckkk. Look so sexy riding me, sexy taking my cock. You looked so fucking good tonight I needed this.” He ranted watching as you began to bounce on his cock.

“Ah fuck, T you feel so good.” you mewed as your body rocked back and forth on top of him. Your tits bouncing perfectly for him. He cheekily sucked and bit your nipples.

“Take my cock so well. Makes me wanna cum right now in this pretty pussy. Get you pregnant all over again.” His words set you off. You crumbled on top of him in a fit of cries. You fell onto his chest clinging to him as he hit a spot so deep inside you had no choice other than to fall into an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy spasmed gushing messily onto his cock and abs.

“Holy shit. Oh my god, T.” you whined blissfully overstimulated as he thrusted deeper up into you rolling his hips leaving kisses all along your neck. He reached his hand down between your two sweaty bodies and began to rub your clit knowing he was getting close to his own release.

“That’s it. Be a good girl f’me. Just gimme one more. I’ll fill you up, baby. You want that?” you couldn't think straight anymore. You just moaned as he rubbed your clit in circular motions harder and faster. Your second orgasm washed over you as he simultaneously came inside of you, his hips stuttering and growing sloppier before he slowly came to a stop pumping you full of his cum just as he had promised he would. You got off of him onto wobbly legs collapsing on the bed next to him with your skin shiny, your heart racing, and his cum dripping down your thighs. Trent laughed a little looking at you with loving eyes.

“That was so good, T” you giggled leaning over on him. “I hope we didn't wake Ted.” you got nervous momentarily grabbing for the baby monitor to check. You were relieved to see her still fast asleep. It seemed obvious but you loved having sex with Trent it always put you in a great mood. You loved when he was in control of you but still sweet. It was just the best.

“It's always good.” he confirmed your review before he kissed your forehead and pulled you into his strong slightly sweaty body some more. “It’ll keep being good for the rest of your life. You’re locked into this now. Mrs. Alexander-Arnold.” he teased pinching at your cheek. You cleaned up and got ready for bed. Trent was out like a light fairly quickly. He was exhausted from training, your night out, then what followed when you got home. You were tired as well but your mind was running a mile a minute. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had a Pinterest board for years building what your ideal wedding would look like. You started to piece together though more real ideas that fit your current taste and factoring what would be reflective of your relationship with Trent. You scrolled on your phone looking at the all the images you’d saved and that’s when it hit you. Trent’s words ringing in your head again and again. ‘Mrs. Alexander-Arnold’ Trent’s surname was so important to him. The whole TAA thing was almost like a brand and you understood that. You had dreamed probably before you even met him of becoming Y/N Alexander-Arnold. It just was so real now as you looked down at your ring finger and over at the man who gave it to you. You typed out your new name to really see it. In a strange way it made you sad. Like it wasn't really your name. You wanted to take his surname and had planned on it but as it got later and later into the night you just felt like there had been so much change happening in your life, so much was new, so much was giving you anxiety. You had moved countries, you got a house, you had a baby, your body looked so different, you were engaged, and now you weren't even sure your baby liked you. That's a stretch you knew she did but her obsession and preference for Trent was starting to really upset you. All of this was so overwhelming. You weren't you. You weren't exactly the most secure or confident person before all of these things had happened but now you felt less like yourself than ever. You could feel a lump growing in your throat, tears building. Not only were you experiencing severe anxiety you felt so guilty about it all. All of these things were exciting and happy. And you were happy about each and every one of them. You had never loved your life more… then why was this so difficult? You couldn't help it or hold back the tears anymore. You started to cry attempting to be quiet. You rolled over to face away from Trent. He was asleep but not deep enough to miss the sound of your short breaths and sniffles. Your body shaking lightly. He hugged you from behind pulling you into him.

“Baby, what’s wrong. Are you okay?” he whispered resting his chin onto your shoulder. The stubble from his facial hair tickling your bare skin.

“I don’t know. I'm sorry I woke you. I'll go downstairs. I’m sorry.” you apologized feeling bad you woke him up.

“No you won't. You’re gonna stay right here with me. C’mere.” he hugged you tighter, kissing your cheek. “Do you want to talk about what's going on or do you just want me to hold you until you feel up for it?” He asked patiently and lovingly. It made you feel worse he was being so sweet.

“No, it's stupid anyways. I’m sorry.” you apologized again nuzzling your face against his. Your tears were still running down your cheeks now getting on him.

“It's not stupid if it’s making you upset. I don't like when you're upset, baby. I got you, alright? Whatever’s going on we can work on it together. I’ll take care of you. Promise” he wiped your tear stained cheeks with his thumb.

“Maybe tomorrow or something. Thank you for being here, T. I love you so much” You felt much calmer in his arms but it didn't exactly fix any of your worries.

“I love you more than I can even put into words. I’m always here for you… forever.” he kissed your cheek again. He nestled his head into the nape of your neck and closed his eyes holding you securely. “Not going anywhere so if you want to talk or you need me, you got me.” he cooed. You let him doze off. He was tired, you were tired, you both needed sleep and you needed time to figure out how you would even articulate what you were feeling to him. Maybe tomorrow.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter … 🤍

Next part - Chapter 11 xx

[yourstrqly]

nsfw alphabet, darwin nunez

pairing: darwin nunez x fem!reader

warnings: smut

authors note: finally wrote a bit after two weeks if I remember correctly. got bad news from my doc and everything's too much rn but life goes on. hope you'll enjoy this!

rina's masterlist & nsfw alp. masterlist

aftercare

Darwin loves when you message his back and shoulders; you stop every once in a while to press a soft kiss on his hot skin and whisper words of love and appreciation to him — that'd might even be his favourite part of the whole thing.

In turn the Uruguayan will clean you off of all kinds of fluids that are still glued to your skin with a cloth he had laid on the sidetable beforehand. Gently, he grasps your hands to kiss them, then he'll let his lips wander upwards to your throat where he gives you a few sneaky but nonetheless sensual lovebits.

 body parts

Oh he does love your delicate fingers; whenever he eats you out or fucks you, you'll immediately let your fingers tug his brown hair as if it going to relief you. Also he can't stop himself to go feral whenever your fingers grasp his length, gliding up and down whilst you suck its head, cheeks hallowed and tongue dancing around the few inches in your warm mouth.

You on the other hand like his nose; it presses deliciously to your clit when he gives head.

cum

there's no better feeling than you giving him head, struggling to fit his dick in your mouth, which results in tears escaping the cornors of your eyes, and swallowing every drop he grants you. It's even better when you sixty nine, as he gets off when you orgasm around his flat tongue and thick fingers.

 dirty secret

Although he's the more dominant of the two of you, he doesn't mind when you take the reigns, pinning him on the mattress and ride his length as he has to beg you to let him cum.

 experience

The Liverpool Striker hadn't got many sexual partners before meeting you but he knows how to push your buttons right after the first few times.

 favourite position

It depends on his mood; sometimes he wants to do nothing, too tired, so he lets you ride him and on the other side he has days where he wants to please you with missionary followed by sixty nine.

 goofy

Have you seen him? He's got no problem to put his seriousness aside to make you giggle and relax; laughing's a part of taking the sex to another level.

hair

Darwin likes to describe himself as always being high maintenance; he ain't fully shaved down there but keeps it trimmed to your liking.

intimacy

If there was to get a master in romance, he'd definitely would be the one to get it. There are no walls he wouldn't climb up to reach the sky, to get you the best. He's done it all; a trail of rose patel to your bedroom, candles lit up, a getaway over the weekend to whatever location you had talked to him weeks and months ago.

 jack off

Before he had grown balls to ask you out, he would get himself off one to three times a week as a way to release stress and pent up pleasure. Once he met up with a woman from his instagram dms, leaving him absolutely unsatisfied — he had counted the time before he spilled himself down her back (though he had imagined you instead of the woman he had fucked). The fantasies about you didn't stop, which finally pushed him in your direction.

 kink

In his opinion there's nothing sexier than edging you whenever it's with his fingers, tongue or dick, he loves you begging for release. Darwin isn't into public sex but if you wishes to do it, he won't deny your request.

 location

Probably likes to have his way with you on a bed just because its the comfiest place in the shared flat however he sometimes likes to fuck you on the kitchen counter when you're sitting on it, reading a book or stuff on social media with a cup of coffee, wearing nothing more than a tee and panties.

 motivation

Honestly, it's when you start to sext him. First it's innocent like you posing in a new article of clothes but as soon as he zooms the picture he sees your underwear — from there its escalating quickly; if you're home you'll send him a nude trying to get him home as fast as possible to fuck you.

 no go

Darwin can't stand anything which could leave ugly bruises like candle wax; he's got no issue to push slight pressure on your throat nor prints of his hands on your hips but he ain't a fan of serious bruising. Even if you'd beg him he would deny it; its a turn off to him.

 oral

As mentioned before, he loves both but if he has to choose it'd be giving. Seeing you whimper, begging for another finger drives him crazy — and the taste's undeniably good. It's not a task for him but pleasure and once he even got off to watching you orgasm on his tongue.

 pace

After a win, still high with adrenaline, he’ll fuck you rough, deep and slow, dragging his length along your tight walls as he holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb gently across it to your lips. He doesn't have to say anything, you'll open your month while holing eye contact, sucking on it like it's a lollipop.

When the team loses, he’ll enjoy getting all the care you've got; most of the times it's you, kneeling between his legs to suck him off, other times you’d ride him sensual. One hand holds his and the other on his stomach supports your body weight. You kiss him all over the face, showing you that a lose on the pitch isn't going to make you appreciate him less; he's still the man in your eyes, a true winner — the winner of your heart, body and soul.

 quickie

He's into quickies, not gonna lie. Before you have to leave him to go on your merry way, you'll wake up in his arms tightly wrapped around your waist. As a result of trying to stand up, he'll awake and pull you right back into his arms. There's no time for foreplay, meaning you'll have to make it work; chasing your highs as Darwin fills you up, trying to avoid making a mess of the bed sheets — neither of you want to wash them every other day.

risk

You're the one to suggests to try new things you had heard from your girl friends or read somewhere as long as you both are in the boad; he's definitely up for the risks as long as you can't get caught by (random) people.

stamina

He can make himself go for a good hour or more as long as he isn't buried in your wet pussy; the feeling is just to good to last that long.

toy

The Uruguayan knows of your toys however he doesn't like to use them on you; when he's away for a game he doesn't mind that you're using them as he knows that he satisfys you better.

unfair

The man's into edging — he could edge you up to fourty minutes, but he'll eventually lose his patience and fucks the shit out of you, practically making you a ruined mess.

volume

He doesn't give a fuck how loud he is; you make him feel too good to not groan out loud. His deep one's mixed with your higher moans is his favourite type of melody.

wild card

Darwin likes to wear fitting bottoms, preferably light colours, and walks around the flat in just those, teasing the fuck out off you.

x—ray

Darwin’s more on the bulky side; all sharp angles and sun-kissed skin, with strong, prominent muscles like some of his teammates. He enjoys his time in the gym, that’s for sure.

The sheer size of his cock had actually startled you. You were genuinely worried if he was too big for you when you first got a glimpse of what's he packed. He's about 6 ½ inches when he's hard, the thickest you had and slightly curved to the left.

yearing

His yearing to have sex is relatively high at the beginning of your relationship, getting frustrated easy if he can't have his way with you.

It gets constantly better as the relationship growns and feeling turn more and more serious by the minute — simple contact like holding hands or a soft squeeze to the side gives him another kind of pleasure.

 zzz

It depends if how hard pushed you and how many rounds you had — most of the time a ten minute message for him and a bit of gossiping while cuddling is doable.

[whorekneecentral]

saw u wanted a virgil request...

hate sex with virgil😫 you're friends with some other guys on the team and you made a bet that their team would lose their match. virg insisted that they would win so when they lose, you tease him and go to far which results into him putting you in your place, throwing you over his shoulder and manhanlding you

hope you like the idea girly xx

- ney anon

bestie you know I love any request you send in <3

Ox and Perrie had convinced you to join them this weekend to watch the match between Liverpool and the Wolves. Ox had gone in hours before you two had arrived and once you did, Perrie suggested you two go down to wish him good luck. 

You had already said your bit, stepping out to give the lovebirds some space. The hallways were quiet for the most part, the sound of laughter had caught your ear and you looked over to see Virgil walking down. 

“Hey,” he called, smiling when he got to you. “What’re you doing back here?” 

“Waiting on Perrie,” you nod towards the locker room, Virgil hums. “Ready to see us win today?” He looks at you and you roll your eyes. “You’re so full of it.” 

“It’s the Wolves, we're obviously gonna win.” 

“Yeah okay.” 

“Fine,” Virgil’s arms crossed over his chest. “We’ll make a bet.” Your brows raised, looking at him as you waited for him to go on. 

“If we win, you’ll go on an date with me.” 

“And if you lose?” You asked, Vigil laughed. “You’ve got no faith in us, but you can pick.” 

“Fine,” you hum, thinking of what you were gonna make him do. “Uhhh, you’ve gotta help me paint when I move into my new place.” 

“Deal,” Virgil's hand is out for you to shake it and you do; you don’t miss the way his hand covers the entirety of yours. “Good luck,” you tell him and he waves you off, “don’t need luck.” 

--- 

The match had ended in the favour of the Wolves, a 2-0 win over Liverpool and everyone was in a bit of a shit mood. 

Not you; well yeah, you were sad that they lost but Virgil lost his stupid bet. 

Perrie had gone down to see Ox, the stadium had basically cleared out after the guys had their post game debrief. You were waiting outside for the lovebirds to finish so the three of you could head out when you heard the man shout your name. 

“Ready to paint?” You asked Virgil and he rolled his eyes, “shut up.” 

“Oh it’s the Wolves, we’re obviously gonna win.” You mocked him and he wasn’t in the mood at all. 

Virgil was a man of many talents and an abundance of patience but when it came to you, no one tested his patience like you. 

He pulled you to him, picking you up in one swift motion. “Virg!” You smacked his back, the man walking further from the locker room by the second. He turned down an empty hallway and into a room. 

“What is your problem?” you asked when he put you down, you smacked his chest lightly. 

Virgil leans on the table before pulling you to him. Before you could stop him, he’s got you bent over his lap. He pulls your shorts down, letting it fall to the floor. The red lace barely covered anything and yet, he pulled it to the side. You look over your shoulder to see his hand lifting and then it drops, landing on down on your ass with a loud smack.

He does it once more, “count.”

Virgil’s hand came down a little harder, “three.”

“Start from one.” He tells you, rubbing along the red spot on your ass.

Virgil gives you a moment before smacking your ass once more. He could feel you shifting on his lap, squeezing your thighs together harder with each smack.

“That was?” He asks, rubbing on your bruised ass. A red imprint of his hand on your skin, making him smile as he waits for you to answer. “Ten,” you mumble, wincing when he shifts you onto your knees in front of him.

“I don’t like your attitude.”  His knuckles brush under your chin as you look up at him.

Your eyes all teary and desperate; he could read you like the back of his hand. “You still have to help me paint,” you mumble and the man laughs, leaning down to give you a kiss. 

“I’ll even help you pick colours, pretty girl.” 

[kirbyluvr63]

Some Thoughts™

About control and other complicated things

As of late, my obsession with The Beatles and, specially, their inner lives and relationships has left me thinking...

We all know John Lennon was bisexual, or as Yoko put it, had 'desire' for other men, but, as she also put it, never acted on it. But I don't think that's quite true. I think the first thing that comes to mind when you're presented with this information is "Why would she say this?", why would she out a dead man that, from the looks of it, never wanted this part of his life to be public? Well.

We can all have varying opinions on Yoko, but I think we can all agree that she was a controlling force in Lennon's life, be it for better or for worse, it doesn't really matter. Just take a look at John's Spotify bio:

"But it was only after his marriage to artist Yoko Ono in 1969 that the figure the world now recognizes as 'John Lennon' truly came into being."

That's the important bit. She takes care of his estate, It'd be silly to think she wasn't involved in writing this. She's, also, telling the truth.

John Lennon was never just 'John Lennon'. He was first 'Lennon-McCartney' and later 'John & Yoko', and both times it was his own choice. He can say whatever he wants about being stifled by Paul, he wanted to be stifled, controlled, being told what to do, but at the same time he didn't. Control was how he showed love and how he received love, first from his aunt Mimi, then from Paul, and lastly from Yoko. He was also a deeply jealous and angry man, and what is jealousy if not the need to control?

It might seem paradoxal at first, his need to be controlled but also hating it. But it's actually quite simple. John was the type of person to believe he was worthless, that everyone that he loved was destined to leave him, that he would die alone. These types of thoughts make people, in general, lash out at their loved ones, test their limits, their loyalty "Do you really love me? Would you love me at my worst? Would you love me even if I hurt you? Why won't you believe that I'm a terrible person? I'll prove it to you." and so forth. We should also remember that he was a hopeless romantic, that believed in destiny and love at first sight. He was desperate.

I think Yoko fed him the exact type of control and liberty that he needed, wrapped around a veil of occultism and self improvement. And a very specific public image.

The first time John had his public image controlled was in the beginning of The Beatles by Brian Epstein, someone that John was also famously fond of and who's early death, in my opinion, was the beginning of the end for the band.

John and Eppie's Holiday in Spain is very well documented with some conflicting information on whether or not they actually had sex, but that doesn't matter in my opinion. John is also quoted as saying:

"I like playing a bit faggy, all that. It was enjoyable, but there were big rumours in Liverpool, it was terrible. Very embarrassing."

And I can imagine why being perceived as a 'homosexual' in the 60's in the UK would be terrible and embarrassing, even if he liked it. The problem in his mind was his image as a straight guy and not really what he was doing, whatever it is that he did while in Spain and away from everyone. Also, John was surrounded by a lot of gay men during his life, hence the picture that opened this post of John and Elton, one of his best friends, a godfather to Sean and the person that Yoko asked to complete John's music after he died, he refused and she later released them unfinished — you can find this tidbit on Elton's autobiography Me.

And so, why would Yoko say that his desires toward men were never consummated, and she cites specifically with Brian, if we have proof of the opposite?

It's about control. Not only control of John's image but control of her image as well. She knows more and more people are coming out and saying things about John's sexuality, things get a bit muddy and she has the opportunity to give a definitive answer, and she chooses the one narrative where she comes out as the good, free-spirited artist, the cool wife. He confided in her and she was supportive, but he also loved her too much to do anything. She could've said nothing. She could've said that this part of John's sexuality was none of our business, it was none of her business. But she chose to not only confirm it, but to say that he didn't to anything about it, not even with Brian.

If John had lived, I don't think he would've said anything about it, he was a ball of repressed feelings until the very end. Or maybe I'm wrong — I'll admit, he was getting better. But I doubt that their marriage would've lasted much longer anyway, who knows if she would still be on the Spotify bio.

John Lennon was a complicated man. That's all I'm saying I guess.

[wingsoverlagos]

Lewisohn vs. Cynthia Lennon, Pt. 2 of 3

For part 1, click here. This post contains the next five endnotes in Mark Lewisohn's Tune In that reference Cynthia Lennon's A Twist of Lennon (1978). Part 3 will have the last of the Twist citations, as well as a couple of citations that use her autobiography John (2005).

Twist p.51 vs. Tune In 15-45

There’s no direct quote here, and the details in Twist and Tune In mostly match up. Mostly. Lewisohn greatly overstates Cynthia’s mother’s dislike for John, though. As Cyn relates it, her mom was happy to have Cynthia spending more time around the house (she’d been spending little waking time there during her relationship with John), and asserts that her mother was likely hoping things would fizzle out between them. Cyn says her mother “had never been over the moon” and “[hoped] that ‘Out of sight out of mind’ would prove the case.” Contrast that with Lewisohn’s “hoped plainly and simply” that their relationship would end, calls John a “Liverpool lout”, and says that Lil Powell wished “she’d never have to see him or hear about him again.” Rather more emphatic, wouldn’t you say?

It's possible that Cyn downplayed her mother's dislike for John. As a biographer, Lewisohn absolutely should take into account the possible bias of any given source, and it's reasonable to assume that Cyn might show some bias towards her mother, given the end result of her relationship with John. However, it's one thing to suggest the possibility that tensions were higher than Cynthia portrayed, and another thing entirely to definitively state they were without giving a source for this conflicting account.

Twist p.51-54 vs. Tune In 16-27

We’ve got a few problems here. First, Cyn does not mention Dot going along to take photobooth shots with her in Twist (see above) and John (p.55). I believe there’s an anecdote about Cyn and Dot taking pictures of each other at home to send to John and Paul, but the photobooth story only features Cyn.

The next issue: “Quasimodo.” I have to admit I don’t like the way Lewisohn writes about John mocking the disabled. It’s one thing to use the offensive language John would have used at the time (“cripple”) in quotes, or to indicate to the reader that John was using derogatory language, but Lewisohn leans really hard into it. He seems to relish using “cripple” or “cripping” whenever possible. In this instance, Cyn tells us that John sent her pictures of himself as a hunchback. Lewisohn says he did the shots as “Quasimodo.” I’m not sure if the implication is that John was doing a particular character bit, or if “Quasimodo” is a stand-in for any hunchback—is it like calling any tissue a Kleenex?

Lastly, Lewisohn describes John’s correspondence as “steamy letters, full of sex, passion and cripples.” I don’t think this is an incorrect description, but I do think it erases the depth described by Cyn in both of her memoirs. In Twist, Cyn describes how John would write about their terrible living conditions and bum-deal contract. She also said that “John seemed to be changing” (see p.54, above), becoming less destructive as he spent his time creating music. In John (p.56), Cyn says, “He wrote about every aspect of their stay, including those he would never have wanted his family to know about.” By Cyn’s account, she was John’s confidante, an important outlet during a period of trouble, change, and creativity, but Lewisohn hones in on the horniness and the goofy/offensive pictures.

Twist p.78, John p.91 vs. Tune In 30-37

Omission without ellipsis.

Twist p.76-77, It’s Only Love website vs. Tune In 30-39

This particular discrepancy between Tune In and its sources was covered well by @anotherkindofmindpod. If you haven't listened to their Fine Tuning series yet--get on it, brother!--you can hear the relevant portion at ~1:06:09 in Episode 9:

I'll spare you my own analysis--AKOM has said what needs to be said--but I'll share the passages here for those of you who like a visual reference. First, from Twist:

The other source Lewisohn gives is the It's Only Love website. Their page about Dot Rhone can be found here. The color choices at the source can be difficult to read, so I'll copy the relevant passage here:

Then Brain Epstein became the Beatles manager. "He said we couldn't go to the concert's [sic] anymore. We obeyed him. We were very annoyed but we thought, if it helped their careers we would do it... I could see that Paul wa [sic] growing away from me. I knew what was coming. And all these years he had been having his bits on the side and it was getting so easy for him. he [sic] was young and he couldn't resist. That was a time of sadness but also release. I didn't keep trying so hard or worrying about trying to keep up, or saying the right things or not having my hair right or not being enough fun"      The relationship ended in the Summer of 1962 when The Beatles were weeks away from national fame. Dorothy will never forget the night Paul visited her and told her they had to break up. He called unexpectedly at her flat when she was wearing her mother's cami-knickers and a baggy old sweater, with her hair in rollers. "Paul said we'd been going out so long that it was either get married or split up. He said 'I don't want to get married, so even though I love you we'll have to finish.' He didn't cry but I knew he felt badly and he was sorry, just by the way he looked. I burst out crying. I said how can you do this? What am I going to do? I thought he might come back because it had been three years, but I suppose really I knew."

Emphasis mine; those are the passages quoted in Tune In.

Finally, here's Lewisohn's version:

In pink, we have Lewisohn's misrepresentation of Cyn's account of the breakup. Note the wildly different timbre. In green and yellow, we have Dot's account from It's Only Love. At the source, the green text comes after the yellow text, seemingly in response to a different question in the original interview.

A note about Lewisohn’s source: It’s Only Love is a fansite devoted to the Beatles’ wives, girlfriends, and rumored flings. The last update is from November 2007. I don’t have any reason to doubt the information on this page (it’s not like Mark Lewisohn is the webmaster), but it’s not rigorously cited. There’s a partial list of sources on the Dot Rhone page that lists a few books, a “Dorothy Rhone interview October 1997”, and ends with “various Beatles and McCartney biographies.” I have found no indication which quotes on the page come from which source—which is fine. It’s a fansite from the early to mid 2000s. That said, if I was writing a doorstopper of a biography, I would hesitate to use that as a source.

I’ve done some digging to try to find the referenced October 1997 interview but have not had any luck. I’m not the world’s greatest internet sleuth, though, so if anyone is familiar with that interview, please let me know!

Sources:

It's Only Love [Internet]. c2005? Dot Rhone. [cited 2024 Feb 2]. Available from: https://sentstarr.tripod.com/beatgirls/rhone.html

Lennon C. 1978. A Twist of Lennon. New York (NY): Avon Books. 190p.

Lennon C. 2005. 1st American Edition. John. New York (NY): Crown Publishers. 294p.

[renatedagmarmilada]

rerun of everything on the St barths Hum Res program, yet again, 5 hundredth time-remote destruction program over UK till 2080 --John Turnbull came into the lab in the night and put a strap onto my heart as they did Tony Banks .. it means if you don't absolutely slow down, you get a heart attack. He didn't know, I tried to tell him, but he didn't believe me, thought that suing Human Research would solve the problem... Mental care assistant Carol was in alone yesterday, and used a whole pile of tortures on me, making me feel quite ill, though it was a lovely sunny day, including pressing my heart /hard/ and cutting the artery over my heart etc. Not sure what I have ever done to Carol..or Beverley..on the machine too, took my UEL and Leipzig Uni BA and London Uni and Leipzig Uni MA essays to copy /?/ She says Allan Lieberman Cross of Finchley asked her to, as she also put the Anne Meyer /third wife of unqualified lab doctor/ vaginal smells on.- Joke of Anna's because she was jewish, she fed the smell into all the Muslims. They thought I smelt of that. Anna /former bossess/ found that she didn't wash after sex. they then addes several other smells of the Jewish wives to that lot. They feed them into people, using their smell sects of their brains. They think it is me, or someone standing near them. It was meant as a medical aid..as are all tortures of the lab st barths Human Research.. The Turnbull's want to kill me so they can take over without fuss. John is friendly with LORD SUTCHET AND SEVERAL OF THE MINISTRY MEN, THEY DRINK TOGETHER AND HAVE SEX TOGETHER... Why is LORD SUTCHET /from Liverpool/ not on the public lists, he is in the lab regularly - and frind of the k*ll*rs..tells lies for them REAL LIES- and has all my books.....!!!! the lab mental care assistants, Turnbulls and Mankovitzes say. I am nearly 80yrs old, have never done a wrong thing in my life- ever- victims of this evil group and would like to finish my paintings and print my hundreds of poems and stories!!

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Con Man's Daughter

Posting this because there isn't enough biodad! John Constantine content.

[Masterlist]

(Part 2)

-----

I feel like this should be a Damianette story or just platonic relationship after Jon got aged-up to seventeen and Damian wanted a friend his age but doesn’t want to admit it.

So basically there is this big bad in Gotham using magic that Batman was fighting at the time and enlisted John Constantine to help out.

John realizes that the villain is using a Miraculous.

“Oh. I think I know how he gets his powers. And lucky for you, Bats, I know an expert on this special brand of magic.”

And he did the smart thing and called up Marinette who at the time was already Guardian and was looking for other lost Miraculouses like in the Treasure Hunter AU I wrote.

He calls her at a really bad time. She was in the process of being chased by the guardians of the place. Monsters and evil spirits.

“Hello, Dad. What do you need and can you do it quickly?”

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s me. How is my little cupcake up to these days?”

“You called at a bad time.” Gunshots.

“WAS THAT A GUN I HEARD? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU, YOUNG LADY?!”

“Somewhere in Japan. Getting a Miraculous. And why can’t you call me to check in on me and not ask me to help you with whatever mess you got yourself into.” More gunshots sounds and it was telling that Marinette was using a gun.

“Where did you get a gun? And don’t you have school?”

“It’s summer break. Don’t worry Maman and Papa know. Well, the fact that I am in Japan anyways.” Marinette sounded a little out of breath. Roaring and horrifying sounds at the other end. “Can we do this later?”

“As it happens, there is a villain going around Gotham with what I think is a Miraculous.”

Swears on the other end.

“Oi. Watch your fucking language, young lady.”

“How about a No and move the fuck back, old man. I am coming over right now.”

“Old man? I am not that old-” as a magic blue portal opens up in the Bat Cave.

And a red Chinese dragon comes out with someone riding it.

Its rider was a black-haired girl. She had a trench coat similar to Constantine's. I imagine her with a fedora. Like Carmen Sandiego style but not red. Sometimes red but only when she has to steal it from a museum or high security places and she leaves a name card with the name Carmen Sandiego. A sword strapped to her back and a dagger to her thigh.

She had a gun in her hand which she used to shoot the monsters as it was halfway through the portal and yelled out the spell to close it.

“Brilliant entrance but you are in lots of trouble, little lady. What were you thinking about going to another country unsupervised? And isn’t there still a butterfly problem in Paris?”

“One, I wasn’t unsupervised. I had Tikki, a billion years old being and a sort of god. Two.Well, it got boring trying to track Hawk-bitch down. And I found this legend about a guy with a Miraculous who disappeared in the temple and thought hey, more miraculous could mean another edge to defeating Moth-man.”

More bickering and John grounding Marinette who was acting very nonchalant about it.

Okay, at this point, I should say that Batman and Robin are in the background trying to make some sense.

Batman is surprised to find out that Constantine has a daughter who is also involved in magic like her Father but an apparently more specialised kind called the Miraculous. He is a little miffed that he didn’t know about John having a daughter. He did consider it weird at first that she had a slight french accent unlike her father’s Liverpool accent although she pronounced some words like he does.

He also connected some dots that she is also the Parisian heroine, Lady Rouge who Wonder Woman introduced to the League a while back and had declined to join the Young Justice or Teen Titans until everything in Paris was resolved.

Damian on the other hand was suspicious of the new arrival and came to the same conclusion as his father about the daughter thing.

Batman after a few minutes, clears his throat.

The Constantines stop arguing.

“Bonjour. Batman. Robin. Pleasure to meet you. I am Mari Constantine and yes, I am this homeless looking man’s brilliant daughter.” “Hey”

“Well, Mari. Your father thinks you can help us with this new criminal turning Gotham upside down. Literally in some cases. He said that you might be able to help us.” Batman said as he pulled up zoomed in picture of the Miraculous.

Mari looks through the Miraculous grimoire and tells them all about it and power-ups, basically the most effective thing to defeat the guy is to get the Miraculous off them. Plus a spell that would make the Miraculous ineffective if casted within a certain radius of it.

“Thank you for the information, Mari. Constantine, let’s go.”

Mari made to follow them.

“You young lady are grounded and staying here.”

“I don’t need another supervillain using the Miraculous which are my responsibility as Guardian to retrieve them for their own misuse and wreaking havoc on the city. And what if there is an akuma in Paris? I can’t go there if I am grounded in the Batcave although it is a cool place to hang out.”

“You can portal back to Paris but you are not going to follow me. Understood?”

“yes. crystal”

“Good. After me and Batsy get the Miraculous, you can do your Guardian duties.”

Damian snickers. Until Batman cut his mood short, “You are staying behind too. Robin.”

“But Father, why? I am much more capable than Constantine.”

“Hey!” Both father and daughter.

Damian is staying behind too because of the Miraculous power or other reasons and keeps an eye on Mari.

Damian stays behind and there were some protests about mari mad about having a babysitter and Damian doesn’t want to be a babysitter. Despite the two of them being around the same age.

“I got an eye on you so no funny business.”

“Okay, Dad, I am not going to have sex with Robin.” Mari said with a shit- eating grin. Robin definitely didn’t blush.

“I hate you sometimes.”

“I love you too, Dad. Go save the world. Byee.”

John eyes her suspiciously because she is not one to give up that easily usually.

He casts a spell to watch her as they leave. and which she totally knew about.

“So...I have one question.”

“Tt, ask and don’t bother me anymore.”

“Is Batman Bruce Wayne?”

Damian looks up, totally caught off guard.

“I am going to take that as a yes.”

Puts sword at her neck. “How did you find out?!”

“Opened up Google Maps and saw that we are under Wayne Manor. Connected the dots. Also I already knew when Dad made a bet with me once to find out Batman’s secret identity but he never did confirm it for me. And can you please not tell your father about this? I don’t feel like being interrogated by the Bat in the future yet.”

“Father must know about this.”

“I saw you looking at Scarlet here. An animal lover then? You can give her some belly rubs. She deserves it after helping me outrun those monsters.”

His silence was brought. To pet a dragon.

One thing after another and he ends up bringing out his pets-Jerry the turkey, Goliath the dragon-bat, Titus- and her introducing him to her other pets like a hellhound, griffin and other mythical creatures who mostly roam free but come to her when she calls for them and also the kwamis, at least the ones who came with her.

After 30 mins have passed, “So Robin how do you feel about disobeying our fathers?”

“I am in.”

“Depends. Are we going after the (villain's name) ?”

“Yes.”

Awesome montage of them getting rid of the spell John casted and flying out of the Batcave on their respective giant flying pets to the villain’s base.

Meanwhile, their fathers are not doing so well and are trapped in a death trap. John can’t say the spell because the villain made him unable to talk.

“At least, the kids are staying put.”

Cut to Damian and Mari jumping off their pets and onto the roof. Taking out the guards posted there and going into the building all sneakily and also taking out the guards that come their way.

They dropped into the room where their fathers and the villain is.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Villain starts an evil monologue about his mastermind plan to which Damian cuts it short by trying to cut him down with his katana. Mari goes to deactivate the death trap.

They are evenly matched with Damian’s training and the Miraculous.

Mari steps in as Damian was about to be killed. Taps on the shoulder of the villain and when he turns around, gives an awesome right hook that knocks him out.

Takes away the Miraculous and curses him. Wiped the dude’s memories of it.

“When I said stay in the Batcave, I meant stay behind at the Batcave. What point of being grounded, don’t you understand?”

“You mean, Oh, Mari, light of my life, my wonderful daughter, thank you for saving my ass. You are the best.’ by that, right?”

-----

Mari and Damian exchanged numbers and email addresses.

As she was about to leave the Batcave, “It’s been nice meeting you, Mr. Wayne.” and leaves with a wink.

John ‘ungrounds’ her for the look on Batman’s face.

-----

After this, Marinette and Damian become friends who bitch and vent to each other about their alter egos and various villains of their respective cities. (In codes, just in case) They also share updates about their pets and love of drawings.

They have that type of friendship where they trade favors. Mari calls Damian to Paris sometimes to help out with the akuma of the day and Damian sometimes calls her in when Bruce doesn’t let him go investigate a case so he can sneak out by magical means or as back up for when his brothers were too annoying to deal with.

It’s summer break so no missing school.

John and Bruce are aware of their friendship and some of the shenanigans the pair gets into behind their back.

-----

-----

Right. how this all started...

John and Sabine first met when the latter was still in college somewhere in France. John was tracking down a demonic entity which was targeting Sabine for some reason and she was the next target.

John saved her life and exorcised the demon. There was a heat of the moment thing and they had a one-night stand. There were a few more flings and hook-ups after that night.

And nine months later, Marinette Cheryl Cheng-Constantine was born.

When Sabine first found out, she called John to come over and he thought that it was a call for another hook-up and was very surprised to find out that it was not and that he was going to be a father.

They both like each other but do not want to be in a relationship together so they both remained as friends and John agreed after some strong-arming at the very least to meet his daughter before he goes to do his job. And pay for child support. And help Sabine during her pregnancy.

Pregnant Sabine was someone you don’t want to mess with. And John has never met a demon or anyone scarier than her.

He was at first not into meeting his child and there was a self-pity party he threw himself with how the child was going to live a bad life because he was the dad and how he destroyed every good thing in his life.

That’s why he is going to meet the baby once and leave maybe a letter and the occasional birthday present and stay out of their life. Forever.

The day Marinette was born and it took one look into her eyes for the HellBlazer to fall under the spell and all of his plans to stay out of her life to burn away.

At first, he tried. He really tried but he couldn’t do it.

Lasted 4 months before he came back, wanting to place protection spells on her and sigils around the house to keep away the forces of Heaven and Hell and other entities so they won’t use her against him as a bargaining chip.

Sabine calls him to babysit. He could have refused and Sabine would have easily found a babysitter. He moans and whines about how he is a great mage and not a bloody babysitter. Sabine retorts that it is actually called parenting since he is Marinette’s father. He grumbles but in the end, agrees.

The great John Constantine is wrapped around the little girl’s finger.

He was around for some of Marinette’s firsts. Her first word was “John”.

It made him cry. He wasn’t a good man and he doesn’t deserve someone this precious. His daughter doesn’t deserve someone like him as a father but fate made it that way and what can you do about it.

After an exhausting week of doing the usual and coming back from Hell, he saw that Sabine had sent him a video. It was Marinette taking her first steps.

Chas swears that in all the years that he has known John Constantine he has never seen the man look so happy.

------

When Tom came into the picture, John was there to take care of a toddler Marinette while Tom and Sabine went on dates.

Insert John threatening a much bigger Tom while holding a baby Marinette with wide eyes and hugging a teddy bear with the same coat as John’s. (It was something Sabine brought on a whim and to tease John when he came around.)

Tom is supportive and treats Marinette like his own flesh and blood.

John resolved to leave for good now that Tom would be there to be a father figure for Marinette.

That plan fell into the drain the moment he was going to leave for what was supposed to be the last time before Sabine pulled him back and knocked some sense into him.

His face was a big giveaway. Sabine knows that despite his claims of being a terrible father for Marinette, he was a good one and damnit she was going to make sure that Marinette would get to know her actual father.

Tom later made an awkward talk with John about how he was not going to replace John’s role as Marinette’s father.

Marinette was the flower girl at Tom and Sabine’s wedding. John was there too.

During bedtime, John would read her stories and use his magic to make it come to life. Although he would feel a little drained afterwards, it was worth it to see her smile.

Sometimes he told stories about his tamer adventures. (After cutting out some of the inappropriate bits)

------

When Marinette was about 5 or 6, Sabine was out on an errand and Tom was at home with Mari and helping her with her homework. There was a crash downstairs at the bakery. Tom went down to check it out to find John lying on the ground.

With a weak cough, he said, “Close the door. Close it.” Before losing consciousness

Tom did before a man with pitch black eyes slammed against it.

Thankfully John had installed heavy wards around the bakery when it first opened.

They held against the demon on John’s tail. Tom brought John inside and unsure of what to do, grabbed a rolling pin on the counter.

The man outside started pounding on the glass door and every time his hands touched the door, light glowed outwards, showing the invisible magic barrier around the bakery. Sparks and steams fizzled with every pound.

Despite the reddening and burns of his hands, the not-human didn’t slow down.

“ʝօɦռ....ʏօʊ ӄռօա ȶɦǟȶ ɨȶ'ֆ օ��ʟʏ ǟ ʍǟȶȶɛʀ օʄ ȶɨʍɛ ɮɛʄօʀɛ ɨ ɮʀɛǟӄ ȶɦʀօʊɢɦ ȶɦɛֆɛ աǟʀɖֆ. օռƈɛ ɨ ɢɛȶ ʏօʊ,” He laughs, the sound sends chills down the large man’s spine, “ȶɦɛʀɛ ǟʀɛ ֆօ ʍǟռʏ ȶɦɨռɢֆ ɨ ɦǟʋɛ քʟǟռռɛɖ ʄօʀ ʏօʊ.”

Tom knew that Marinette’s father was a con man. Come on, Master and Practitioner of the Dark Arts and Occult. But he was a good father nonetheless despite all his flaws and Sabine liked him enough so that was good enough for him.

Before today, magic was just the sleight of hands and use of fancy tools to sell the illusions. Now, with a could-be-a-demon knocking on his door to get to the father of the girl he sees as his daughter, he’s not so sure.

“Tom? Qu'est-ce qui se passe? (What’s going on?)” A little voice came from the stairs, “Dad!” Marinette padded across the floor to the body of her passed out father.

She shook him awake and there were a few soft slaps to the face.

“Dad, what’s happened?”

John mumbles, “Demon…. possessing some rich guy….. Exorcism…. Doesn’t like me very much…Don’t worry...wards going to hold.”

John manages to stand before falling down and Tom catches him before he hits the floor. He has a concussion. Tom turns to Marinette, “Go, Hide and don’t come out until It’s safe.” which she did

Unfortunately, a while later, Sabine returns from her night out and the demon upon seeing Sabine. “ɛӼƈɛʟʟɛռȶ..”

The demon possessed Sabine and the previously possessed dude hit the sidewalk with a thud.

“ɨռȶɛʀɛֆȶɨռɢ....” The voice coming out of Sabine didn’t sound like her mother which scared Marinette a lot. “օքɛռ ȶɦɨֆ ɖօօʀ օʀ,”the demon pulled a knife out of thin air, ,“ȶɦɨֆ ɮօɖʏ ɢɛȶֆ ɨȶ.”

Tom hesitated until the demon put the knife on Sabine’s neck and put enough force for a thin line of blood to be shown.

He opens the door and the demon knocks him out. Stepping over his unconscious body and looking down on it, “ʄօʀ ȶɦǟȶ, ɨ ǟʍ ɢօɨռɢ ȶօ ʟɛȶ ʏօʊ ʟɨʋɛ ʊռȶɨʟ ɨ ǟʍ ɖօռɛ աɨȶɦ ʝօɦռ, օʄ ƈօʊʀֆɛ.” and cackles. The sound was so wrong and unnerving and little Marinette tried very hard for her sobs not to be heard.

Too bad the demon had super hearing. “Come out, my little blossom. Maman is home. Why don’t you come out and give me a hug?”

It sounded so much like her mother and she nearly believed that it was her mother and not some entity in control of her body.

But she knew better from John’s stories of dealing with demons and how they would use the voice of loved ones to lure them out and into a trap. (Definitely not something one should tell as a bedtime story but Marinette was very different and had an unconventional childhood with John Constantine as her father.)

Wait...she got struck with an idea but she wasn’t sure if it would work.

Before she could do anything, the door of the cabinet she was hiding in was opened and she was dragged out.

The demon lifted her a few feet above the ground by the collar of her dress.

It heard Marinette saying something. “աɦǟȶ ǟʀɛ ʏօʊ ֆǟʏɨռɢ ƈɦɨʟɖ, ֆքɛǟӄ ʟօʊɖɛʀ?”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica.” Marinette was now screaming the words at the top of her lungs. She repeated the spell over and over again with fierce determination.

John, being his paranoid self, taught her the spell for an exorcism, just in case. Demons spared no one, not even a girl.

It screamed “NO….” as Sabine’s body contorted in strange angles before a dark shadow seemed to be dragged down into the ground. It made a desperate attempt to possess John before it was pulled away and disappeared. There was no sign that there was a demon attack.

After John woke up, he managed to piece together that his 5-years-old (Sorry 5 and a half) daughter sent a demon back to hell.

He was a very proud dad. (He was a tad worried about the consequences from this event and demons hold one hell of a grudge. He wanted his daughter to live a very safe and happy life. The bakery’s wards also need an upgrade.)

He also got the job of explaining what he actually did to Tom. And lots of reassuring.

Sabine, on one hand, was not happy that Marinette knew how to do magic. That is until John told her that he did it just in case so she can protect herself and later it was agreed that Marinette can learn some Magic spells and charms to better protect herself and when she is older, she can decide if she wants to continue or not.

----

(Part 2)

[mollrat101]

While the joke was that Deborah just loves attention, she’s not gay or straight, I do think there’s room for really examining that and they did leave the door open. 

Cause I do feel like the show is really asking about Deborah of what’s the difference between attention and real intimacy and desire and love. 

That’s what Ava was trying to get at with her convo on comphet. There’s a difference between liking attention and actually desiring closeness and intimacy with another person. And it’s not always clear where the difference begins and ends. 

Deb got caught up in the temporary attention by the women (which turned out not to be real which *sighs* let’s not get into that, it’ll just make me mad lol) which almost turned on its head the comphet point Ava was arguing. Deb got caught up in the attention of women, but there was still no real intimacy or desire. 

The conclusion (at this point) feels less like “Deborah is straight and she just likes attention” more than it does “actually, Deborah is so closed off and cut off from her own desire that she can’t actually tell the difference between being attracted and just liking being wanted”. Which was Ava’s point but turned up to 11. Deb says she’s turned on by flattery, but I don’t think that’s really true. 

Deborah is a performer and I don’t think Ava was wrong in her email that the adulation from fans gives Deborah a sense of love that she lacks in her personal life. But, of course, it’s not real love. These people don’t actually know Deborah, especially based on the fact that she’s been lying for so long. The tragedy of Deborah is, for so long, no one has really known her, not even supposedly the people closest to her. 

But I think, like all people, Deborah has a deep desire in her heart to be seen for all she is and loved. 

I think what’s clear about Deborah’s love life is that Deb loved Frank with all she had. She tried to make it work between them. She wanted that artistic life with him. She wanted a family with him. She wanted to share her new success with her family in the unaired pilot. But Frank didn’t want to see Deborah succeed, it threatened his ego. He loved Deb as long as she didn’t outshine him. 

But even with someone she loved and someone she wanted to be close to, Deborah still had sexual problems with Frank. 

“Ladies, have you ever noticed that men seem to feel entitled to sex on their birthday? No, thanks. You know, a word of advice. Next time, marry a guy born on leap day.”

In the original pilot script: “My ex-husband always thought he was entitled to sex on his birthday. No thanks. I’m going to make sure the next guy I marry was born on Leap Day.” 

It’s hard to say at this point why Deborah struggles so much with sexual desire, as we still need more information. But I could argue that maybe the desire Deborah is missing from her life is actually related to how few of the people she sleeps with really know her. They’re sleeping with a version of Deborah that’s a performance. There’s an argument to be made that sexual desire for women is really wrapped up in wanting to be wanted and there’s truth to that. But the question is, which version of Deborah does she want to be wanted for? 

She sings “You Make Me Feel Like a Natural Woman” which does express the point of what kind of woman Deborah wants to be. Deb’s ideas about womanhood are being challenged right now. But it doesn’t feel earned because of a fake piece of attention she got from one woman who doesn’t know her. 

“Although Goffin’s lyrics could be interpreted as describing a woman being validated by a man, the song has come to be seen as a celebration of womanhood and as an anthem for female empowerment. As Dr Mike Jones of Liverpool University’s Institute of Popular Music points out, no one who has listened to Franklin sing it ever imagined that this was a woman who needed validation from anyone.”

What strikes me about this song is that it actually is perfect for Deborah. It’s about a woman who has become more secure in herself. A woman who is living a more authentic and freer version of herself. Someone who has found clarity and purpose. Someone who has managed to both be confident in herself and in her own skin, but also free to get close to others. She is a woman who is self-assured and confident about her life, who she is and in her own body. 

But the problem is that nothing before makes this song feel earned. Deborah hasn’t really gone beyond the idea of wanting validation from men, as evidenced by her desiring Marty’s attention. Ava has only just presented this idea to her and she’s had no time to digest it. Who has made Deborah feel like a “natural woman”? A woman who’s faking flirting with her? I get that she doesn’t know it’s fake at this point, but by making it fake it removes the impact of this moment. 

See, I understand if the writers didn’t want to further the idea that anything romantic will happen with Deborah and Ava, but taking out the subtext actually makes it make less sense. It would’ve made more sense if a compliment from Ava would’ve inspired such a strong reaction from Deborah. Both because of how well Ava knows her and because of how much Deb cares about her. A beautiful young woman who has seen you at your least glamorous and knows your secrets and tells you you’re sexy? Especially from the woman who could embody the lyrics of “ When my soul was in the lost and found /You came along to claim it”. A woman who has broken through Deb’s walls and allowed her to finally start healing and living a fuller life. That would make the song feel justified. 

Edit: @lavenderwedding made a good point that the song choice might be more about what Deborah wishes to be, rather than what she’s currently feeling. That’s honestly a good interpretation and I think is a good alternative to my initial thought that the song wasn’t earned. The song could suggest that Deborah eventually will become that self-assured, sexually confident and emotionally open protagonist of the song, but she’s not there yet. And the fact that this happens after the comphet discussion, Deb examining her sexuality could be the key to achieving this. 

Cause it’s a natural human desire to want to be desired and validated. I don’t think that in of itself is a problem. Ava and Deborah provide each other the validation they’ve desperately been wanting. But when it comes to men, and people in general, Deborah has been getting validation for superficial reasons. A facade that’s not really who Deborah is deep down. Marty just wants to pick Deb up when he feels like it and has no interest in investing in her as a person. With other men, it might have been similar or Deb deliberately kept them at a distance so as not to risk hurt. 

Why I think Deb’s idea that she’s turned on or wants flattery isn’t true is 1.07 where Ava tells DJ how cool it is that she found someone who loves her for exactly who she is. The camera cuts to Deboah looking sad. DJ accuses Deborah of being jealous that DJ has found a person who loves her and the thing is? I think she has a point. Deb keeps doubting DJ and Aidan’s love for each other and it’s proven wrong each time. Her own bad experiences with Frank making her not see that they’re the real deal. Her cynicism is proven unjustified. 

Deborah wants to be loved unconditionally but she doesn’t know how to get out of her own way enough to let down her guard enough to let someone in. The risk is potentially pain when you’ve shown someone yourself and they reject you but there’s also a potential reward of someone seeing you and loving you. There is no shortcut to that. Sometimes you just have to take a leap of faith. 

I have no idea whether or not having someone who sees Deborah clearly and loves her would fix her sexual problems, but it at least has powerful potential. 

Part of why I believe (or believed, I don’t feel especially confident) that Ava was the partner Deborah has always wanted is that she makes all the pieces fit together of what Deborah has been missing. 

Ava doesn’t start out as a fan, so slowly Ava starts to respect Deb as an artist. Ava doesn’t flatter her like a fan would, on the contrary, she challenges her which is what Deb needs. She forces Deb to stop performing and being more honesty, something that no one else ever calls her out on. Ava clearly sees Deborah in all the sides, as an artist, as a mother, as a friend. She shares Deborah’s love for the craft so she understands why this matters so much to her. But Ava is a writer, not a performer, so there’s not the same level of competitiveness, in fact they complement each other’s strengths. Ava is actually a good person, unlike Frank who felt no remorse when he hurt her. Deb can’t find a perfect partner, but she can find a good enough one who will try their best to be better. And finally, because of all her sexual problems with men and her narrow views on exploring her sexuality, Ava offers Deborah a chance to explore something she’s long not given herself the opportunity to do. Which in turns, her falling for Ava would challenge her internalized homophobia in a really substantial way where the consequences would be felt personally. If Deb can’t figure out her lesbophobia and compulsory heterosexuality, then she potentially loses out on a great relationship. 

I’m not confident anymore this is the case because season 2 has taken out a lot of the romantic subtext of the first season, but all the pieces they set up still make sense even if they choose not to follow them. 

Again, maybe all my concerns about Deborah’s sexuality could be answered. I don’t think we’ve seen the last of this. They’ve set up a lot of interesting pieces. What I’m not clear on is what solution they’re presenting Deborah with. Especially something that makes ALL the pieces fit together. 

[tehriz]

somebody in a forum I’m in berated me for saying that Roy and Keeley are an example of a healthy relationship in television because Roy’s “serious anger issues” are “red flags” and said his character is borderline abuse apology, which

look, if the character of an angry man triggers you i am certainly not going to say “no you’re wrong and need to like this character”. if you just don’t like him that is also fine. but as someone who has their fair share of trauma from partner emotional abuse and angry men i wanted to do a brief dive into

anger is not always abuse, or, an incomplete description of how ted lasso has crafted roy kent as a trope subversion of “angry man we must love because he has a heart of gold even though he’s terrible to everyone around him”, mostly because, roy is not actually terrible to everyone around him.

probably first and foremost, roy’s anger is never directed at vulnerable people. he gets angry with people who are humiliating others--when the boys are picking on nate, when the panelists on the sports show say misogynistic things. when he’s angry with the team in season one at their performance it’s as a peer, and when he’s angry with ted in season one it’s as a subordinate. when the power balance shifts in season two, when he is a coach and is angry with jamie who is now his subordinate, the show shows that isn’t okay. ted listens to jamie and they make roy get over his anger with jamie. 

yes, there is the one scene where he is yelling at the little girls’ soccer team.

yes, this is played for laughs, but we also know it’s not actually serious. we’ve seen roy interacting with children in season one in supportive and encouraging ways (the school visit). that is how we know this is a joke. it’s a sitcom. they are satirizing roy’s role from s1, as well as stage parent tropes, and adults getting overly invested in children’s sports that are just there to be fun. he is clearly a good adult role model with phoebe and cares about the kids, and it’s shown that his cussing doesn’t actually bother them. 

also, importantly, as nate’s roast/coach talk in liverpool shows, roy’s anger is also not unequivocally a Good Thing. nate worries about him when he can’t process his anger effectively by getting it out on the soccer field. he has to find healthy ways to process it. it’s like our favorite hooligan baz. “i will channel my raging enthusiasm into ways to help my community.”

roy also has to deal with his unhealthy and unproductive anger toward jamie when he wants to start a relationship with keeley. dealing with his anger is a prerequisite for entering into a relationship. the show is very clear that his anger is not directed at keeley, either, which i think is an important subversion of the “angry man who we must love anyway because he’s a genius/good guy/whatever” trope. roy also always apologizes for bad behavior.

roy also subverts the trope because he actually is in touch with his feelings. he reads a wrinkle in time and relates it to himself. he lets his six-year-old niece into his life and tries to build her up and help her solve her problems. he tells keeley he likes porn of people having sex outside because he could never be that free. we are shown that his partner considers him at his sexiest when he is being vulnerable, and he’s encouraged to step out of his comfort zone and trust the people around him.

importantly, though, roy’s also just a gruff guy, and he doesn’t have to change that. 

cussing is funny and this is a comedy. roy cusses a lot. roy has no patience for nonsense. roy expects the people around him to bring him their best and if they don’t he will tell them that. none of that is inherently abusive, and the show clearly shows that roy balances this with being supportive of his peers and family, sharing credit for good things, and standing up for people who need help.

this finally brings me to an important corollary, which is being gruff or being angry is not inherently abusive. if there is one thing i would love the internet to understand it is this. being angry and expressing anger are not inherently abusive traits. if you express it at vulnerable people or to coerce people into doing what you want, that can be abusive. just being angry and having anger and channeling it in healthy ways--like proactively discussing with trusted friends and resolving hurtful behavior with mature adult conversations--is not.

and the whole point of season two of ted lasso anyway is that being “nice” is not always the best thing. ted’s niceness is burning him out and destroying him from the inside out. rebecca’s encouraged not to settle for her “nice”, fine boyfriend. sam is not told to go along and not make a fuss when their sponsors are destroying his homeland. jamie being nice has made him a shitty player. people aren’t supposed to just be nice!! 

in conclusion, roy is gruff and swears a lot and occasionally blows his top at people who are being dicks to other people. he is also a supportive partner, friend, uncle, and mentor. i love roy because he grows as a person through allowing himself to be supported and then supporting others. i do not find this abuse apology and as a person who’s been abused i was frankly a little insulted to hear it called that. i really appreciate the ted lasso model of “show us why people are good, don’t just tell us that they are” and i feel that this is strongly modeled in roy. okay thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[maseshine]

You drink too much and end up confessing your feelings with Jordan Henderson please!

Drunk feelings, Jordan Henderson

Prompt: You drink too much and end up confessing your feelings for him.

Warning: Mentions about alcohol and sex (mild)

Words: 532

Notes: Have fun writing this one because it's really embarrassing for you to admit you like someone while you're drunk, I hope you like it 🤍☺

Author's Note: I know a lot of people write with the use of quotes, but I'm used to using the dash, so I hope it's not a problem.

You were always a free spirit.  You loved having fun with your friends and even making new ones.  You wanted to enjoy your youth as much as you could.  You wouldn't be young for long.

And everything was going very well in his life.  Until the day you met Jordan Henderson in a pub.  He had moved to Liverpool a few days ago and wanted to celebrate his new home.  So you with other friends went to have fun.

When you first realized you had already made friends with several people at the pub and among them was he, Jordan Henderson.  The charming player from the local club.

In the beginning everything was purely genuine you saw him as just another friend.  But time passed and what you feared most had happened, a few months ago you finally realized that you were having loving feelings for Hendo.

Which was an absolute drug, because you were fully aware that he nurtured nothing for you but affection, he had even referred to you as a little sister.  And you were only two years younger than him.  This was a clear sign that he didn't feel the least bit loving towards you.

So, doing what you do best, your weekends were all about going out, drinking a lot, and hooking up with the first person you were interested in.  All this just to forget about your possible acute crush on the guy who was basically one of your best friends and only saw you as a little sister.  Pathetic.  That's how you felt.

━ One more please.  ━ Your voice came out slurred by the high alcohol content already present in your system.

━ Bring some water please.  ━ The strong voice beside you made you jump, you knew very well who it belonged to.  What the hell was he doing there?

━ Hendo?  ━ It was all your drunk conscience could throw out.

━ Yes, Y/N.  It's me.  Your friend called me clearly worried that you would fall into an alcoholic coma, now I see why.  ━ A giggle escaped her throat.

━ I'm not a helpless little girl, Henderson.  I'm very well.  ━ To prove your point, you jumped off the stool you were sitting on and only didn't fall because your strong arms held you.

━ Let's go home.  Now.  ━ His voice was so sexy when he commanded something.  Oh my God.

━ No. ━ The word was prolonged.  ━ I haven't found someone to have sex yet.  Is not fair.

You felt a cold wind shake your body, and you snuggled closer to Jordan.  He was so hot.

━ You are so hot you know.  So hot in all feeling.  You're really, really hot, Hendo.

━ You are drunk, Y/N.  You don't know what you're talking about.

━ Um, ok.  But why do I still like you?  You are still here, look.  ━ You took your finger to the side of your head laughing.  ━ You put me in the friendzone, and it hurts, you know?!

You only realized you were crying when Jordan's arms pulled you into a hug.  His wet face resting on his chest.

━ I'll take you home and tomorrow we'll talk.  When you're sober.  ━ His warm lips left a quick kiss on her forehead.

[coochiequeens]

Birth control is healthcare part I

Commuters to London’s Liverpool Street were treated to a taboo-busting billboard last week, featuring a mother of two weightlifting, while leaking actual liquid. The ad is part of the “leaks happen” campaign, from the women’s health brand Elvie, aiming to raise awareness of a common, but largely obscured, problem – postpartum incontinence.

Claire Hackett, the Alliance party rep for Mid Ulster in Northern Ireland, can testify first-hand how women are suffering in silence, and says that openness is exactly what’s needed. When she returned to work 10 months after the birth of her third child, the impact of injuries following all three births continued to complicate her life. “I can remember the sweat and the fear of ‘Oh my God, what might happen if I don’t get to the toilet’. It’s things like this that you don’t really want to talk to people about.”

Hackett’s difficulties started about 10 years ago, after having her first child, which left her with a third-degree tear – meaning the rupture went as far as the muscle that controls the anus. After surgery, Hackett was handed a leaflet for pelvic floor exercises. Eight months later, she still hadn’t healed, and was experiencing stinging while urinating as well as bladder control problems.

“My husband and I hadn’t had sex at that point because I was still so scared of what was going on with my pelvic region,” she says. She was referred to a “back class”, where women got together and did a circuit of back exercises, which helped strengthen her core, but achieved little else.

Many women, says Hackett, are too afraid, ashamed or embarrassed to draw attention to their pelvic problems after childbirth. Added to this is the coy acceptance of the problem, “like in Tena ads for your little ‘oops’ moments. Like this is just what happens to women,” she says. “Yes, it’s common to experience incontinence. But it’s not normal: there are things that can be done.”

Myra Robson, a clinical lead physiotherapist and co-founder of the pelvic health campaign group Pelvicroar, says part of the problem is that women aren’t adequately prepared for birth trauma. “There’s still a much greater emphasis on this lovely romantic version of childbirth. People aren’t prepared for the fact that there can be a problem when you’re trying to get a whole human being out of this relatively small space,” she says. “I think we’re very unrealistic about that. We need to empower women to vocalise when they’re having problems and do something about it.”

It’s certainly not a niche concern: as many as one in three women experience urinary incontinence in the three months after childbirth, according to the National Childbirth Trust (NCT). And it can also develop in the years that follow. According to Julie Cornish, colorectal consultant at the Cardiff and Vale University Health Board and vice-president of the MASIC Foundation – a charity that supports women who have been severely injured during childbirth – research shows that one in five women develop problems controlling their bowels in the first five years after giving birth vaginally.

Being pregnant and giving birth can also weaken the pelvic floor – the supportive hammock made of muscles and tissues that keeps the pelvic organs (the uterus, bladder and bowel) in place. When the pelvic floor is overstretched – if the baby is large, during an assisted birth (using forceps, for example) or if labour is prolonged – one or more of these organs can descend (prolapse) into the vagina. One writer described the experience as a feeling of constantly sitting on an egg.

But women are not necessarily warned of these risks, says Ranee Thakar, vice-president of the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists. “Mothers tell me – when I see them – that nobody ever told them that these [pelvic floor disorders] could happen.”

After childbirth there is a lot of focus on the baby – and rightly so, says Thakar. “But we also need to think about the mother, especially given pelvic problems are not always readily apparent after delivery.” Undetected or mild birth trauma can escalate into more serious conditions as women age, she adds.

Postnatal care has long been patchy – even before the pandemic – partly due to a lack of education among healthcare professionals as well as the embarrassment and stigma that impedes mothers from reporting their issues in the first place. Covid simply exacerbated these underlying fissures, says Cornish: “We are facing a massive uphill battle, because cancer cases are going to be taking priority and so pelvic floor problems get pushed to the back of the queue again.”

For the most part, pregnant women are offered some education by the NHS about what to expect all the way through to delivery, but these classes are not uniform across the country. After birth, women are typically given a leaflet with instructions for exercises they can do to get their pelvic floor muscles back into shape (although pinpointing those muscles can be tricky). Meanwhile, postnatal care is largely the responsibility of community midwives. Around the six- to eight-week mark, a postnatal check on mother and baby is conducted by GPs.

If a serious injury emerges, mothers are typically referred to secondary care. Twenty years ago, there were three or four clinics focused on pelvic floor problems across the UK, but while there are many more now, says Thakar, “they’re not there everywhere”. Waiting lists are long and increasing staff shortages haven’t helped. “In terms of a full pelvic floor assessment,” says Robson, “it’s usually the physiotherapists that do it, and there’s just simply not enough of us to go around.”

Christine Sweet, who lives in Greater Manchester, gave birth for the first time in June 2021. Her delivery involved an episiotomy (an incision between the vaginal opening and the anus to make more space for the baby), as well as forceps, both well-known risk factors for future pelvic complications. She was discharged from hospital about 24 hours after giving birth and put in the care of a community midwifery team. A few days later, her episiotomy stitches came apart.

In pain, Sweet went to her GP, who diagnosed her with an infection, suggesting it was acquired in hospital. The doctor was “horrified at the sight of the wound and didn’t know what to do. She rang gynaecology at the hospital, and they said that until the infection had been cleared, they weren’t prepared to see me.”

Sweet says that having an open wound that wasn’t healing was more painful than the labour. “Nobody seemed to know what to do with it, or what should be done to keep the wound clean and who was meant to be reviewing it.”

Eventually, after four courses of antibiotics, the infection cleared, but Sweet was told her problem did not satisfy the criteria for urgent referral to gynaecology. The waiting list for a standard appointment was hovering between six months and a year. Twelve weeks after the birth of her son, she managed to find some childcare, and went to A&E. After hours of waiting, it was determined her wound needed to be cauterised – a process in which electricity or chemicals are used to burn tissue in order to close a wound. It was done there and then, and healed soon after, but that wasn’t end of her problems. Finally, more than three months after giving birth, she had a full internal examination with a pelvic health physio team, where it was confirmed that she had developed a prolapse.

“It seems that if you have a baby, you should expect to be in pain,” said Sweet. “But the more you try to keep a lid on it … it doesn’t give women the true picture of what can go wrong, and then importantly how you can fix things once they have gone wrong.”

Melissa Bubnic, a freelance script writer in London, has been on a waiting list for reparative surgery for more than a year. Bubnic initially realised something was wrong in 2019, three months after giving birth to her second child. Sitting on the bus on her way to an event, she smelled something odd. A visit to the loo confirmed her fears – she had soiled herself. Fortunately, she had wet wipes on hand, but about a month later, it happened again.

When she saw her GP that May, she was referred to pelvic specialists at a London hospital. With demand far outstripping supply for such services, it could take up to a year to get an appointment. Finally, in November 2019, she went for an endoanal scan. “I wanted to believe that everything was OK,” says Bubnic, “so I asked if everything was OK back there. She said, ‘No, it’s really not OK.’”

”It was the first time anyone had told me that something was really wrong – I had had a fourth-degree tear that had been missed.” It was likely, she was told, that the tear had occurred back in 2015, during the birth of her first child, when she was given an episiotomy and forceps had been used.

By May 2020, she still hadn’t been able to see an NHS physiotherapist – and felt as if she was being dissuaded from seeking the opinion of a colorectal surgeon. “I was told that a referral would be made but whenever I called, they couldn’t find the referral in the system. And I had to kind of get a bit cross.” She finally saw a colorectal surgeon in November 2020 and was put on the waiting list for surgery, but the pandemic has increased delays.

Tired of waiting, she took a punt on an advertisement posted by a PhD student investigating the impact of serious birth trauma. She was assessed by a medical team at St Mark’s hospital, a specialist bowel hospital in Harrow, London, earlier this year, and underwent surgery there last month. “I have been so incredibly lucky,” she said.

Both Bubnic and Hackett have sought out private physiotherapy, too. “I just always thought, you have babies, you wet yourself,” says Hackett. “It’s just what you have to put up with. So, to find out that I could rehab my pelvic floor to the level that I have, and it’s still not even perfect … I couldn’t believe it.”

The cost for private physiotherapy can be prohibitive at about £100 for the initial consultation (depending on geography), and slightly lower rates for follow-up appointments.

Many campaigners cite France as a country with better pelvic healthcare. Mothers there are automatically prescribed multiple sessions of physio to “re-educate” their pelvic floor after delivery. But there is acknowledgment that postpartum care in the UK is ripe for improvement, and earlier this year NHS England announced the opening of 14 new pelvic health clinics, bringing together midwives, specialist doctors and physiotherapists to improve the prevention, identification and treatment of pelvic floor dysfunction.

Physical injuries aside, the sexual and mental health impact of postpartum trauma is devastating, says Bubnic. “You just feel so sexless and dirty. Incontinence is so mortifying. The mental health impact of being scared to leave your house, or having an accident – every women who has these injuries has to deal with that.”

When Bubnic first discovered the severity of her injury, she didn’t know anybody else who had faced a similar situation. “I felt so ashamed and embarrassed,” she says. “I need a lot of support around managing the injury and navigating this labyrinthine health system. Even when you want to talk to NHS staff, who are trying to help you, bringing up the sex aspect, everyone looks a bit awkward and doesn’t really know what to say.

“I just don’t believe that if the genders were reversed,” she adds, “if it was men, in the act of becoming fathers, who were ripped from testicles to anus and left incontinent – that we wouldn’t be doing something to address that.”

[woman-loving]

Policing Lesbians in 1950s-70s Sydney

Selection from Unnamed Desires: A Sydney Lesbian History, Rebecca Jennings, 2015.

This section describes how lesbianism could be subject to policing even in the absence of explicit criminalization, and how public silence around the issue of lesbianism contributed to confusion over the legal status of lesbian behaviors in a way that aided repression.

Cultural attitudes toward homosexuality in mid-twentieth century Australia were shaped in part by the strong legal stance on the issue. Male homosexual activity was legally proscribed under the Crimes (Amendment) Act 1924, but lesbianism was never explicitly criminalised in New South Wales. Official concern over female same-sex desire appears to have been extremely limited and there is no evidence that the question of legislating against lesbianism was even debated in government circles. Some cultural commentators were critical of this apparent oversight. Dr McGeorge, member of a special committee appointed by the NSW government in 1955 to examine problems associated with homosexuality, complained: ‘No investigation into the lesbianism aspect of it has been suggested. It should have been. The investigation is overdue.’[7] Claiming that ‘ordinarily normal and healthy’ young girls were being seduced into the practice by subtle, older lesbians, McGeorge argued: ‘The authorities, unfortunately, seem to regard this as too delicate a question to be tackled openly. Because of its increase, it must e brought into the open and fought in the open.[8] For McGeorge, lesbianism was a social evil which posed a threat to young women and needed to be both publicly debated and legally proscribed.[9] However, his views did not find support amongst legislators and the special committee of which he was a member was never to publish a report.[10]

While the political will to tackle the issue at government level was limited, concern was apparently greater in the police force. In her autobiography, NSW’s first woman police officer, Lillian Armfield, suggests that female homosexuality was a matter of concern to the police. Referring to the case of Iris Webber, a notorious criminal and lesbian in interwar Sydney, Armfield commented:

“[Lesbianism] is a problem the authorities must face, and it is a difficult one. It will require the co-operation of the wisest and best of our medical specialists, police, clergy, and welfare workers, because it is on the increase. Those who practise it aren’t all as open about it as Iris Webber. They are furtive and subtle, and the leaders in the cult are shrewd and persistent in their eagerness to corrupt others ... Sooner or later, and the sooner the better, this menace will have to be faced by the authorities. It is a menace too serious to be ignored just because it is such an ugly and unpleasant issue to drag out into the open.”[11]

Members of the Vice Squad apparently shared Armfield’s view that lesbianism was a ‘cult which, unfortunately, has a much wider vogue than the average citizen suspects.’[12] Such attitudes helped to share the stance of the police toward lesbianism, and despite the absence of any specific legislation prohibiting sexual acts between women, the police utilised a range of minor, broadly defined offences to target lesbians, thereby rendering certain forms of lesbian practice or identity illegal.[13]

The strongly disapproving attitudes of some members of the police force, combined with the absence of a public discourse on lesbianism and the enforcement of laws against male homosexuality, produced considerable confusion about the precise state of the law relating to lesbianism. Margaret, who became aware of her own same-sex desires in the late 1950s, recalled having a general sense that lesbianism was prohibited. Having met a young woman at work to whom she was attracted, she was apprehensive about approaching the woman for fear of the consequences:

“Well, I felt that this was a big responsibility for me, seducing this young woman and putting her on this path to disaster or that I’d get into trouble, surely, because it wasn’t appropriate to do that--I don’t know if it was a criminal offence, but I suppose if somebody found out about it, it’d be pretty serious.”[14]

While Margaret was unsure of the exact consequences she might be faced with, the perception that lesbian sexual practice was, in fact, illegal, was relatively widespread before the 1970s and both the police and members of the public--including lesbians themselves--acted accordingly. When 15-year-old Sandra Willson attempted to put her arm around an older female friend in 1950s Sydney, the woman called the police and a female officer warned Sandra: ‘You do realise that your behaviour constitutes a criminal offence?’ She was told that if she contacted the woman again, she would be brought before the Children’s Court.[15] A few years later, her sexual practices brought her into contact with the police again. Now 17 and living with her girlfriend in a small Bondi flat, Sandra wrote to a friend describing her new domestic circumstances. The letter fell into the hands of the friend’s mother who, believing Sandra’s lesbian relationship to be illegal, contacted the police. That Sunday, Sandra and her girlfriend Barbara were at home in bed when the police arrived at the door. Referring to Sandra’s letter, an officer claimed: ‘New you can’t try to deny you are a homosexual because the letter states quite plainly that you are. And that you are living with this other girl as “man and wife.”‘[16] The police searched the flat, apparently commenting on any evidence that the two girls were sharing  bedroom, and Sandra recalled:

“They acted like a law unto themselves and I hated their bastard hides for it. I wanted to rush them to attack them, but their size alone showed this would be folly. But I was also cowed by the feeling that they were right, and I felt such shame. I knew it was a criminal offence to make love to anyone of one’s own sex Men over the age of eighteen could actually go to jail for up to three years for it. Not a public performance, but for an act done behind their own bedroom doors, in their own home and lodgings.

It was a criminal act. Against the laws of God and man!”[17]

The police took Sandra and Barbara down to Central Police Station on Liverpool Street where they were charged with ‘being exposed to moral danger’. Sandra, who, as the elder of the pair, was portrayed as the seducer, was sentenced to detention at the Girls Training School in Parramatta, while Barbara was released into the care of her parents.

Child welfare legislation was widely used in early and mid-twentieth century NSW to control socially unacceptable, but rarely criminal, behaviour by teenage girls. Kerry Carrington and Margaret Pereira have argued that ‘The blurring of delinquency and neglect led to the expansion of juvenile justice intervention into the lives of young people which allowed the Children’s Court the jurisdiction to punish children for non-criminal conduct.’[18] Girls were charged under the NSW Child Welfare Act 1939 as either ‘neglected’ or ‘uncontrollable’ and ‘exposed to moral danger’ for behaviours such as truancy, sexual activity or being the victims of sexual abuse. A broad range of agents, from the police to social workers, education professionals and psychologists, advised on and intervened in cases, basing their determinations as much on family and social background and current medical and psychiatric theory as on the specific details of the relevant offence or charge. Girls could be sentenced to an indeterminate period in a child welfare institution such as Parramatta Girls Training School, sometimes only ending when they turned 18, although girls charged with a criminal offence would usually only remain for between six and nine months. There was no formal system for distinguishing between girls convicted of a criminal offence and others, although a broad attempt was made to keep girls deemed ‘corrupt’ apart form the rest. Conditions in the home were tough and perceived misdemeanours were punished with solitary confinement or harsh and humiliating tasks such as the scrubbing of floors.[19]

For adult women, a range of other laws related to vagrancy and public decency were utilised by the police to express disapproval of lesbianism, in the absence of specific legislation against female same-sex activity. In the decades after the war, dress codes were employed to contain the activities of butch lesbians in the public sphere, although confusion was again widespread as to the precise state of the law in this regard. Sandra Willson, who regularly dressed in men’s clothes on the street in 1950s’ Sydney and occasionally wore men’s suits to work, made enquiries into the legality of this practice. She was informed by her parole officer that wearing men’s clothes was not in itself illegal, but masquerading as a man was: ‘There is nothing illegal about it’, she was told, ‘as long as you make no attempt to portray yourself as a male. You can’t, for instance, use a men’s urinal but will always have to use the women’s convenience.’[20] Laurie, however, recalling her experiences as a butch lesbian in Sydney in the 1960s and 1970s, maintained that laws did regulate women’s dress. ‘Some law,’ she said, required that, ‘With the butches, in those days, you had to wear, if you dressed butch--three piece suits and that--you had to wear a bit of women’s apparel, didn’t matter what.’[21] Rae agreed, claiming: ‘Back then the laws were quite strange. God help you if you didn’t wear a bra, for example, because, if you were picked up by the police, you had to be wearing three pieces of women’s apparel. Now I don’t wear a bra, if I’d been picked up, I’d have been really in trouble. No, you had to have three pieces of women’s apparel on.’[22] Vagrancy laws, which prohibited indecent and disorderly behaviour, had been used in NSW and elsewhere in Australia to target cross-dressing since the nineteenth century, although research has demonstrated that the penalties faced by those who came to notice of the police could vary widely.[23] However, it is unclear whether any law specifically defined male impersonation in terms of items of apparel and it is interesting that the apparently widespread belief in such legislation is also reflected in US butch lesbian communities of the postwar period. In their study of a lesbian community in Buffalo, New York, in the mid-twentieth century, Elizabeth Kennedy and Madeline Davis note that ‘Many narrators mention the legal specification for proper dress, although some said it required three pieces of female clothes, [and some] two.’[24] Kennedy and Davis were unable to locate ‘a New York State law about what constitutes male or female impersonation, despite the unanimity of narrators on the subject’ and, drawing on the work of Nan Hunter, concluded that ‘a judge in a particular case made a ruling that two or three pieces of clothing of the “correct” sex negated male or female impersonation and that set a precedent used by law enforcement agencies.[25]

Laws against insulting or offensive behaviour were also interpreted broadly by police to include demonstrations of affection between women or visible manifestations of a lesbian identity. Addressing a seminar on ‘Female Homosexuality’ at Sydney University in 1975, Helen Coonan outlined a number of ways in which lesbians were discriminated against in law, and noted that ‘lesbian behaviour can be prosecuted and has been prosecuted under the catch all phrase of “offensive behaviour”.’[26] In 1978, the feminist and gay press reported that two women had been arrested and charged for hugging on the grass in a Sydney park.[27] Women in lesbian bars were also subject to police harassment. Jan Hillier, a Melbourne butch lesbian, recalled the ‘frightening times she and her friends experience don a trip to Sydney in the 1960s:

“I remember I once went to Sydney with Hank and Speedy and a few of the butch lesbians. We all got on the train and off we went and we got all dolled up and went to some gay bar in William Street. Well Bumper Farrell raided the place, scooped us all up and put us in the Darlinghurst cells for the weekend. We were only kids, 16 or 17. He locked us up for being drunk and disorderly and left us there for the whole weekend. No charges were ever laid. On the Monday we had to go back to Melbourne to work. I was terrified my mother was going to find out I’d been in jail ... I’ve never been that fond of Sydney.”[28]

Such police tactics continued into the 1970s and, in March 1978, lesbian and gay campaigning group CAMP NSW complained that clientele at the lesbian nightclub Ruby Reds had been arrested on charges of using offensive language.[29]

While no legislation explicitly targeted female homosexuality, therefore, the very absence of a public discourse around lesbianism and the law left women in considerable doubt as to which behaviours were legal and which, if any, were not. As a result, many women absorbed a general and ill-defined sense that desire between women--and any outward expression of it--was not only unacceptable but potentially punishable in some way.

[bluboothalassophile]

Goblin Kings & Little Birds

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MOST WONDERFUL FRIEND! @shewhowillnotbenamed1! May this year be better than the last and may the wine and plants never run out!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Here’s the thing, this wasn’t his fault, it was entirely the demon brat’s fault. Jason just had intentions of enjoying the international games in the heart of the Scottish Highlands at their rival school, he did not intend to end up being a fucking babysitter for his idiot brothers and sisters!

It didn’t help that Dick was marrying Babs and wouldn’t be here because planning their wedding took priority and B had literally shoved the kids at Jason to handle because B had some crisis or other to manage. It was his fucking graduation year! Did anyone give him special treatment for that!? No! He was just relegated to watching his siblings and because he wasn’t fucking ‘Golden Child’ Dick they didn’t listen to him, so it was like herding nifflers!

And somehow that had lead him to this problem as he snuck through the halls of Hogwarts, missing out on the introductory feast hunting for his damn baby brother’s fucking niffler! When he got his hands on Damian, he was going to wring the brat’s neck, only after he found the fucking niffler! Why he was slinking through an unknown castle for this damn thing was beyond him! He should send the demon brat to find it! But no, he couldn’t have the little first year in fucking trouble, besides if anything happened to Damian, he wouldn’t stop hearing about it from Dick and Jason really didn’t want to hear Dickhead’s lectures. Mostly because from the time he was born he could remember Dick conveniently ‘forgetting’ him. Also, his and Dick’s relationship would never be great because Dick spent the first fifteen years of Jason’s life being a monumental ass.

There was a yelp as he rounded the corner and saw the fucking niffler dangling gleefully around a woman’s neck and tangled in ebony hair.

“You fucking troublemaker!” he hissed as he raced over, the niffler gave a jump but Jason caught it as the woman gave a startled shout at them both toppling over and going sprawling in the corridor. “What the hell are you even doing here! I told Damian to leave you home!” he seethed.

“Well they are crafty buggers,” a voice announced and now he and the niffler looked at the woman beneath him. She was a gorgeous woman too which had his eyes widening as he took her in and scrambled off her.

“Sorry about that, Miss,” he exclaimed as he reached down to hoist her up. She was light as a pixie really, he was stunned as she stood then.

“No harm done,” she assured him as she righted her robes, they were blue and bronze, which had him wracking his brains for the minimal information he remembered about Hogwarts and it’s sorting system. “You’re from Ilvermony!”

“Yeah,” he nodded shamefully as he kept a firm grip on his brother’s niffler. “I’d shake your hand but,” he looked pointedly at the little troublemaker he held.

“So I see,” she mused with a small smile on her apathetic face. “I’m Raven Constantine, Head Girl of Ravenclaw.”

“Jason Wayne, Head of the Wampus house, but also incharge of my idiot siblings,” he sighed.

“I understand,” she promised, her mirth was glittering in her violet eyes.

“Where am I?” he asked her.

“Well, you’re about as far from the feast as you could be, we’re in the north wing of the castle,” she said. “Come on Yankee,” she gestured for him.

“I take offense to that, I’m a Mets fan for baseball.”

“Should I call you Mets?”

“Nah, Jay will work.”

“What is baseball?”

“No-Maj sport,” he said.

“Oh, thank Merlin, I was worried I was missing some Quidditch teams,” she shuddered.

“Ah, so you like Quidditch!?”

“My elder brother is a professional beater for the Scotland!” she smiled. “Drives our father mad!”

“Huh, and here I was hoping to know your favorite team.”

“I hate Quidditch, only root for my brother!”

“Fair enough.”

“What is your favorite team?”

“Fitchburg Finches,” he admitted.

“I see that Yanks obsess about Quidditch as much as we do,” she mused.

“But of course, little bird, it’s a sacred sport!”

“So I’m told, and what’s with the little bird!?” she demanded.

“Well, you are tiny, you also have a bird on your robes, and you have a lovely voice,” he smiled.

“Mmm, very well, I accept little bird,” she decided.

“No nicknames for me!?”

“Goblin King?” she offered sweetly.

“Yeah sure,” he shrugged in good humor as they walked through the castle.

“Are all yanks like you?”

“Devilishly good looking?” he asked.

“Good humored.”

“Depends on who you meet, do all brits have accents like that?”

“Oh, mine, no, I’m… my father is from Liverpool, but I spent a fair amount of time in Ireland before we settled in Glasgow,” she explained. “I lose my temper and nary a soul will understand, except my Uncle Luci.”

“Well, you sound lovely,” he decided honestly.

“Thank you, you’re the first to ever say that!” she chuckled.

“Raven!” a shout came and they both looked over to see a black-haired girl stomping over to them dressed in red and gold. “The feast is starting! We’re going to meet up before we have to take the first years off… who are you!?” the woman turned so sickly sweet that he smiled devilishly. He didn’t like her or how she was speaking to Raven at all; it reminded him of Dick, and he didn’t like the way she was looking at him like he was a drool worthy sex toy rather than a person.

“Goblin King, how do you do?” he sneered. She gagged and hurried off which had him bursting into laughter as Raven laughed beside him.

“Come along Goblin King, before Zatanna thinks she wants to yell at me for bringing a fae into the school,” she chuckled.

“I’ll see you around, right little bird?” he asked.

“Oh yes, Goblin King! There’s the Ilvermony table,” she said as they walked into the hall. He nodded at her as he walked to the table.

“Damian Wayne! If you don’t keep track of this damn niffler I will hang you by your toe nails in the castle dungeon,” he growled as he shoved the creature in his brother’s lap.

[ultimaa]

OFFSIDE

Two shot

PART I

Summary: "You’re young, attractive and rich, but Martinique stands between you and the love of your life. Damn, I'm happy I'm not you."

Eren had two sacred rules during his holidays: no football, no social media and no England. These purposes involved moving a thousand kilometers from his apartment in Liverpool to enjoy a peaceful summer in his native Shigansina, a small town in southern Germany where everyone knew each other. There he was simply Dr. Grisha's boy. "Really? Come on, man, go to French Polynesia or Dubai," his partner Connie Springer said. "Shigan-what? Okay, don't mind me. I’m sure parties are great in your town..." Honestly, Eren spent his days off sleeping and playing video games. Sometimes he jogged — after all, he earned his salary thanks to his body — and drunk HB beer, but what he liked most was the feeling of making up for lost time. He loved football and played in one of the best clubs in the world, history would seat him at the same table as Ian Rush, Michael Owen or Steven Gerrard. He loved Anfield, but he was too young when he said goodbye to the field of earth soccer and was taken to Melwood, where his parents visited him once a month. At the age of twenty-six, with a brilliant career, Eren Jaeger returned to Germany like an elephant going to die in a cave, with his family, and then repeated the cycle of nostalgia. However, that year would be different.

The Jaeger couple celebrated their 25th anniversary and they organized a small party with relatives and close friends. Only Eren Kruger, best man, who was in a submarine five thousand meters deep, was absent. As for the others, they all attended: Zeke and Pieck, who had come from Berlin, Aunt Faye, Keith Shadis (Eren’s Godfather), Tom Xaver (Zeke’s Godfather), Hannes, Armin and his grandfather, Kuchel Ackerman (bridesmaid), Kenny Ackerman (usher) and Levi Ackerman. Grisha did not like parties, but Carla settled the discussion with a resounding statement: "Silver anniversary aren’t celebrated every day, darling."

While Hannes, old Arlet, Pieck and Kuchel made a beef stew and the couple danced to the sound of Wiener Blut in the sitting room, Eren opened a bottle of beer and toasted with Armin and Zeke.

"You’re the only one, brother," Zeke pointed out. "You’ll retire bachelor. With ten Golden Balls, but a bachelor."

"The golden bachelor," Eren corrected. "Hey, Armin, you're single too."

"Annie and I are taking some time." His best friend shrugged.

Zeke laughed. He was a cardiologist. "I understand the heart much better than you... in all aspects," he used to say. And it was probably true: he was married to Pieck and the ring did not bother him yet.

"Really? She has been in Australia for two months. Do you know how long Australians last in bed, huh? About seventeen minutes, behind only the Americans, the Canadians and the English. As for the Germans, only eight percent have participated in a trio. If I were you, I'd start to worry."

"Did you just tell me I'm a bad lover?"

"No. Statistics, Armin. Information."

"This dude is like that." Eren took a sip. "He throw the stone and hides the hand."

"I have no interest in offending the virility of the Germans. I'm German, in case you haven't noticed. Siegfried is my grandfather and every Friday I go drinking with Wagner, but not all women know how to appreciate the Central European charm. Also, Melbourne is one of the best cities to live."

"Annie is in Sydney."

"See? That's precisely the problem." Zeke finished his beer and put a hand on Arlet's shoulder. "You know exactly where she is, but does she remember you? When a woman puts fifteen thousand kilometers between her and her partner, she only has one goal: to forget. And while she builds her new beginning, you water her plants."

"I still wonder how you seduced Pieck," Eren said. "Did you take her to dinner with Kaiser Wilhelm and Angela Merkel?"

"Actually, she won me. Well, I fell into the trap. I thought I could escape later. I was wrong and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I ain’t immune to women either."

Zeke showed a wide smile. He was blond and had a magnificent bearing. When the waltz was over, he congratulated Grisha and gave him a beer. Then he hugged Carla and cleared his voice. They all looked at him.

"This woman you see here is suicidal: marrying a Jaeger is dangerous, but marrying a divorced Jaeger with a child is deadly. The first time I saw her I was seven years old and I thought: Will she be like Miss Rottenmeier? No, thanks to God. I had always been Ezekiel, but she started calling me Zeke and that's how my friends, my coworkers and my wife call me. In a way, he baptized me. She ain’t my father's wife or my stepmother. Sorry, Eren; Being an only child is wonderful, but she’s also my mother and I would like us to toast her, the woman who brought us together here today. Cheers! Who’s in charge of the music? Auntie, put Spring’s Voices on. Eren and I are gonna dance."

"Wonderful idea." Armin laughed. "Football? As Martha Graham said, dance is the hidden language of the soul."

"You bastards." Eren took his brother's hand.

"Don't step on my shoes."

Among the music and the wild laughter of Kenny and Hannes, Eren did not realize what was about to happen. No clairvoyant would have guessed it. He looked sideways and saw her appear: black hair, aviator sunglasses, and a cigarette between her lips. White rolled-up shirt, capri pants and strappy sandals. He lost concentration and Zeke roared with laughter. He knew, of course. The last time he saw her was on the eve of her trip to Martinique, where she had spent the past year. The waltz ended and they both bowed. Eren did not want to raise the head. Why had no one warned him?

"Levi told me she came back last night," Zeke whispered.

Eren did not even hear the applause. He quickly returned to Armin, who was chatting with Keith Shadis, a retired military man, about the Ardennes Counteroffensive and the Nuremberg Trials. "I am almost sure," said his friend, a historian, "that Franz von Papen died in '69."

"Mikasa is here," Eren hissed.

"I know," he nodded, "and I'm gonna greet her, she's my lifelong friend and I'm glad to see her. You should do the same. Don't think about what happened."

"Did you know? Armin!"

His friend approached her. Great. Eren slipped out into the garden with a couple of beer cans and sat down on a wooden bench. Pretend you don't care, he thought. It belongs to the past, that's it! Fuck! You have to call it by its name: pain. Before she left, they drank like a fish and ended up going to bed. That was last summer. They had not spoken about it since then. He could already hear wise and eminent Zeke Jaeger’s voice: "So you haven’t had a girlfriend since Christ was crucified, but you shag with your best friend. Da ya need to talk, Eren?" Shit! Maybe he needed to tell someone how much her decision to go to Martinique hurt when he declared her love. She had a degree in Arts, so she was offered to do a study about Paul Gauguin, who spent a time on the island. So Zeke would say: "The Caribbean? I'm sorry, brother, I'm so sorry. You and Armin can cry together."

Eren was in love with her. It is one of those truths that one understands with a broken heart. And this led him to reject the insinuations of several, too many women in recent months. There were rumors that he was gay.

"Look who's here: Reds’ Hunter," Mikasa greeted him. "Can I sit?"

"You can do whatever you want." Eren was not angry, but a little drunk. He scratched his right arm; Delacroix's Liberty was tattooed from shoulder to elbow; Lower down, on the forearm, Goya’s Colossus collapses the Berlin Wall. On the inside of the doll, an M. Again, he could hear his brother's voice calling him an idiot.

Mikasa sat next to him. Her skin was not as pale as before: Caribbean tan. The serious mouth was the same and the gray eyes had not changed. She had a fine scar on her right cheek.

"Congratulations on winning the Premier."

"Yeah, well, first in Liverpool's history." Eren groaned. "How did it go with Gauguin?"

"Excellently. Van Gogh said that Gauguin didn’t paint with the brush, but with the phallus. However, mayby he didn’t die of syphilis..."

"Are you kidding me? Do you congratulate me on the championship and talk about Gauguin's cock?" He let out a sardonic laugh. "If that's all you have to tell me after all this time..."

"This is neither the time nor the place".

"I don’t care. We fucked, Mikasa."

"I know. I was there."

"Really? Because sometimes I think about it and it seems a mirage. You've been avoiging the matter a whole year, a fucking year. You show up at my parents' party like nothing's wrong and talking about fucking Gauguin." Eren paused. "Annie is in Australia. Do you know how long Australians last in bed? Seventeen minutes. How long do Martinicans last?"

"I know what you're implying," Mikasa said seriously, "and you're wrong, Eren. You’re very wrong. Do you think I would be able to do that after sleeping with you?"

Carla Jaeger interrupted them; the meal was ready. They were not hungry, but an inexplicable feeling oppressed them: Eren's blood boiled; Mikasa's was frozen.

"When you want us to talk as adults, let me know," she said.

Adults! Eren said nothing. He sat between Zeke and Armin, who gave him a questioning look. Eren sighed and started eating. He remained oblivious to all the conversations, sharing looks with Mikasa, sitting next to her uncle Kenny. One year had passed and perhaps he was angry, but he winked al her. She smiled and caught the kiss Eren discreetly sent her, and showed her thumb.

"Okay," Zeke said, after wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Have I ever told you about friendship between men and women? No, because it’s impossible. Were you and Annie ever friends, Armin?"

"Huh… Yeah?"

"No. You wanted to have sex, but you didn't tell her."

"I know you know," Eren whispered.

"I’ve known for a long time. In fact, I knew it before you did, bro. You were like Heidi and Peter, and now, if you were alone, this would become ​Nine and a half Weeks.

For Zeke it was too obvious, but what about the others? Eren looked at them closely. They talked about politics, football, past... Levi was the only one who remained silent. He was not a very talkative man, unlike his mother and uncle. Kuchel and Kenny talked and laughed like no one else. As for Mikasa, whose premature orphanhood led her to grow up with them, her character was soft; silent, good listener and without his cousin’s curtness. Did she tell someone what happened? Maybe Sasha Braus? After the meal, Eren felt adult enough.

The whole evening passed pleasant between anecdotes and skat hands. Keith Shadis left around six in the afternoon; He had to return to Munich for work. As for the others, Carla insisted that they stay for dinner. While Grisha and Zeke had a scholarly conversation about the latest advances in medicine, Kenny was laughing loudly with Mikasa by his side.

"I never imagined that we would have an artist in the family."

"I'm an art historian," Mikasa pointed out.

"If God doesn’t give you children, Devil gives you nephews." Kenny lit a cigarette. "Ackermans have always been country people. Levi was the first to go to university; He was already a whiz since childhood. Fortunately, Mikasa followed suit.

"What is Martinique like?" Carla asked.

"Quiet. When it rains, goodbye internet and light, and of course I have to mention mosquitoes, humidity, heat and earthquakes," she paused, "but people are lovely and the landscapes are spectacular. They are exactly like on postcards. Oh, and the accra is very good."

"We could go on vacation, honey." Zeke looked at Pieck. "I'm tired of Sardinia."

"But you have to be careful with snakes," Mikasa continued, smiling. "I was bitten by a eyelash viper. Nothing serious, but I wouldn’t repeat the experience."

"One year has been enough, hasn't it?" Eren, who was playing cards with Armin, had his ears set on the conversation.

"Yes. For now I will stay here I’ll go to Munich in September to work at the Alte Pinakothek."

"It's fantastic," said Armin.

"And you’ll be close," added Kuchel.

So Munich. However, Mikasa commented on the possibility of another trip. She specialized in Impressionism and did not rule out settling in France. After dinner, when it was time to say goodbye, Eren pulled out his cell phone and wrote her a message: "Do you wanna talk?" She looked sidelong at him and replied, "Come home tomorrow. We will be alone." Jaeger thought about that last one; He smiled, pleased, and quickly typed, "Good."

They all left except for Zeke and Pieck, who would spend a few days in the village before returning to Berlin. It was like going back fifteen years ago, when they still crowd around under one ceiling. Carla loved having them all there. Her good character led her to have an excellent relationship with her daughter-in-law. Grisha was pleased with the situation; He played chess with Zeke for hours, in total silence. Eren used to watch them, attentive to the gestures, wondering how they could drag on a duel that long. And it all ended with one word: "Checkmate."

Zeke followed him into the garden with a cigarette on the lips. He had tried to stop smoking, but there are things a man can never give up, like mentholated Camel.

"You don't smoke, do you? What a pity. One or two cigarettes once in a while doesn't hurt anyone, Mr. Perfect Abs." Zeke blew out the smoke. "Munich. A wonderful city, especially in October."

"We’re gonna talk tomorrow."

"One day I take a look at the yellow press and I see you with Historia Reiss, and I think you're a lucky bastard. You’re young, attractive and rich, but Martinique stands between you and the love of your life. Damn, I’m happy I’m not you."

"I love you too." Eren frowned.

"I’m trying to help you. Don't screw it up, okay? A bad step now and you will regret it all your life." His brother clapped him on the back. "Now If you can excuse me, I'm going to make love to my wife in my fifteen-year-old room."

"I didn't need to know that."

…

Having the house to herself, Mikasa went down to have black tea. Frugal breakfast, as always. She felt like an intruder in her own town and jet lag was not benevolent. She wanted to stay in bed, she’s just got ants in her pants. She did push-ups and thought about the last exhausting year. Operation Gauguin, as she called it, had been a true odyssey. Fuck the Caribbean. She had missed Europe, her family and friends, but duty is duty. As for Eren, she could not reproach him for anything. He was angry. She should not have slept with him before she left; Mikasa kept thinking about it for a moment. Secrets and sex are a bad combination for consciousness. Besides, she left without saying goodbye. She behaved like a real motherfucker and would do it again: sentimentality is not advisable before a possible trip with no return. No, she couldn't listen to Eren's feelings before getting on the plane. Deep down, she suffered from the greatest weakness: love.

She lay down on the floor and closed his eyes. God, the cold slabs were nicer than any bed in the Caribbean. The woman forgot the physical and mental exhaustion when Eren touched the knocker. She took a breath and decided to improvise. The first thing Mikasa noticed was Dior's perfume. He was wearing an unbuttoned black polo shirt, gray jeans, and deck shoes. The three-day beard and dapper cut fit him very well. Those tropical eyes ... Shit!

Silence. Glances. It was inevitable. Eren closed the door behind him and received her kiss in a frenzy. Mikasa bit his lips, tugged at his hair. The man held her prisoner in his arms, sliding his hands down her back, her hips and her neck, anxious and needy. Their mouths were lost in each other's. Eren threw his head back and went deeper, searching for lost time. He licked her lips from corner to corner. The touch of tongues was deadly like a sword dance. They parted, face to face, panting, obscene. Mikasa wanted to make love to him in the middle of the hall and tell him how much she had missed him.

"Did you want to talk?" Eren planted another kiss.

"Yes," Mikasa replied. "I’m so sorry. I fucked up. I have a very interesting story to tell you, but I don't know if it will be more exciting than winning the English league."

"Ok, you know I prefer Monet, but..."

"It has nothing to do with Gauguin." Mikasa took his hand and led him into the living room. If she thought about it, it was a concise thing, but difficult to assimilate. Eren sat down on the sofa. She made him coffee and moved to his side, maturing the words in her head. "It's complicated. If you don't believe it, I get it. I’ve spent more time in Cuba than in Martinique. I haven’t done any study about Gauguin."

"What?" Eren looked at her seriously. "What's going on, Mikasa?"

"I've been working for Interpol for a couple of years. No one knows, only you. Crimes against cultural heritage."

"I don’t get it. What does that have to do with Martinique and Cuba?"

"During Nazism many degenerate works were plundered. Gauguin, Chagall, Klee... Some works were located last year. There was a certain black market for art among many American magnates. That is why I went to Cuba together with a team, to find out the whereabouts of some Gauguin works lost since 38."

"It’s definitely more interesting than winning the Premier." Eren drank from his mug thoughtfully, still amazed. "Was it dangerous?"

"Not much. At least not for me. My job is to see, evaluate and give a verdict, not shooting. Do you think I'm out there drinking Martini and driving an Aston Martin?"

"The idea excites me." The man touched the scar on her face. "And this? I don't remember it. It’s not on the maps that I have of your whole body."

"Then you will have to add it." Mikasa took the cup from him, put it on the table and leaned against him, kissing him calmly and sweetly. For a moment she thought she would never see him again, or maybe he would see her repatriated corpse with a bullet in the head. God! She hugged him and rested her head on his heart. Eren stroked her hair and she trembled at the memory. "It was a shot. I don't know how I'm still alive. I was so lucky..."

"My God," Eren whispered. "Why did you not tell me? Don’t trust me?"

"I know you. Worry wouldn't let you focus."

"Of course not. And now that I know why you left, it will take me a few weeks to recover from my fright. Damn, it hurt so much when you answered my messages as if nothing... I wanted to tell you about my feelings, but you always talked about trivial issues and I thought you didn't care what happened between us. Why?"

"I was scared. I didn't want to think about you or our plans. What would have happened to all those words if I had died? Look at this scar. It’s a miracle I’m still alive. It happened a few days after arriving. It shouldn't have happened, but it did. A rich man held a clandestine exhibition, I infiltrated and they discovered me. I didn't want to tell you that I love you and then die. I don't do things that way."

"And how do you do it?"

"Like this." Mikasa kissed him again.

[beardpeak1]

Females Training Bursary Spotlight 2

Women Coaching In Football

Content

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National Enquirer, November 2

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Jealous O.J. Simpson killed Nicole Brown over sizzling photos 

Page 2: Melanie Griffith was caught in lockdown meltdown mode outside her Los Angeles home yelling at an unsuspecting laborer and giving him a good working over after he somehow crossed her bath and pushed her buttons but it doesn’t take much to get Mel to blow these days because she’s upset about two things which are getting old and not having a man in her life 

Page 3: Lisa Marie Presley’s son Ben Keough’s tragic last moments were caught on tape as he argued with his girlfriend according to the coroner’s report on his suicide and security camera footage also captured the eerie sound of an apparent gunshot said the officer who viewed the tape -- Ben had hosted a party for his girlfriend Diana Pinto then about 4 a.m. the 27-year-old musician went to his bedroom; two hours later Diana went to check on him and had to jimmy the bedroom door lock with a bobby pin and she discovered his body and called 911 but Ben was pronounced dead at the scene -- since his death a devastated Lisa Marie has blamed herself for not intervening sooner; Ben had been to rehab several months before and Lisa Marie could see he was struggling with drugs and depression and she has kept a close eye on Ben’s gravesite with Graceland’s surveillance system 

Page 4: Anne Heche’s shocking public pronouncement that she wants to reunite with former galpal Ellen DeGeneres was met with fury from Ellen wife Portia de Rossi -- Ellen and Anne were Hollywood’s highest-profile lesbian couple when they dated for three years before their bitter split in 2000 and they haven’t spoken since but Anne announced after her elimination on Dancing with the Stars that she would love to appear on The Ellen DeGeneres Show but Portia has made it clear she wants Anne nowhere near her wife and she believes Anne is using Ellen to drum up publicity for herself, lonely Ryan Seacrest is longing for a reunion with former flame Shayna Taylor but she wants no part of him -- workaholic Ryan announced the combustible couple’s third split in June after eight on-and-off years together -- Ryan’s obsession with being the next Dick Clark tests the patience of everybody around him and it’s made him a nightmare to be in a relationship with as Shayna found out firsthand -- Ryan seemed so cocky and sure that breaking up was the right thing to do but not having Shayna there to lean on has really gotten to him however Shayna is refusing to be played for a fool 

Page 5: Kelly Clarkson made a massive mistake dumping husband Brandon Blackstock according to famed numerologist Glynis McCants 

Page 6: Doting dad Kanye West is spoiling oldest daughter North rotten and it’s causing even more problems between him and wife Kim Kardashian because Kim feels North is getting too spoiled but Kanye won’t hear any of it because North is his firstborn and his princess and he treats her like it -- North is regularly served breakfast in bed on a silver tray and gets whatever she wants even if it’s waffles with strawberries and ice cream and she also has a team of beauticians and a stylist to cater to her every need as though she was a full-grown woman and her wardrobe is extensive and expensive and she never wears the same designer outfit twice plus North also loves to shop online for jewelry and Kanye gives her his credit card and she can spend $100,000 in a single sitting and Kanye just thinks it’s cute 

Page 7: Daring Jill Duggar and husband Derick Dillard are rebelling against her conservative parents and causing a full-scale family war as the couple has publicly defied Baptist patriarch Jim Bob Duggar several times since their 2014 marriage and now they’ve been banned from the 19 Kids and Counting reality clan; Jim Bob’s even demanded that their neighbors have nothing to do with them -- Jill and Derick drew Jim Bob’s fury after criticizing her parents’ conservative views and shutting down their own family factory after having two sons and said they’re stopping there for now unlike Jill’s folks who had 19 kids, dog lover Jennifer Aniston adores her new rescue puppy but potty-training the pooch has been the pits so desperate Jen had to sign up her new pup Lord Chesterfield for private lessons with a dog trainer -- she has two other dogs Clyde and Sophie but they’re well-behaved and know to do their business outdoors and Jen loves them all but she forgot how much work it is to train a puppy 

Page 8: Prince Harry’s wife Meghan Markle revealed her private battle with depression as her struggles with first-time motherhood and fitting in with the rigid royal family pushed her over the edge but Queen Elizabeth thinks her conniving confession is simply a ploy to sully the monarchy -- Meghan described the emotional pain caused by criticism as a death by a thousand cuts and said if people are saying things about you that aren’t true what that does to your mental and emotional health is so damaging -- Queen Elizabeth believes Meghan’s confession is a calculated attack on the monarchy and Meghan is acting like the royals waged a war against her but Meghan and Harry’s actions since they quit have infuriated Her Majesty because Meghan keeps orchestrating situations where she takes center stage appearing to support and put the spotlight on those in need but she turns them all into opportunities to talk about herself and how hard her struggle is

Page 9: Rattled Tyra Banks’ rocky start on Dancing with the Stars has her looking for a way to waltz off the show and she is already trying to back out of hosting because she hates the criticism she’s been getting from virtually everyone plus she’s unpopular with the contestants and is bickering behind the scenes with producers who now regret replacing longtime hosts Tom Bergeron and Erin Andrews -- ratings have also plummeted since Tyra took the helm with the show losing more than a million viewers in early October from the same week in 2019

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Gwen Stefani during a photo session in Calabasas, Tiffany Haddish used a leaf blower during a skit on The Ellen DeGeneres Show, Justin Bieber on a scooter in Beverly Hills, Zosia Mamet donned a unicorn horn as she wrapped the final scenes of The Flight Attendant, Robert Pattinson and Colin Farrell on the Liverpool set of The Batman 

Page 11: John Oliver’s jokey jabs have earned him a crappy honor from the town of Danbury in Connecticut -- after he ragged on tony Danbury on his show Mayor Mark Boughton vowed to rename its sewage plant after him and now it’s official that the Danbury Sewage Plant is now the John Oliver Memorial Sewage Plant and as promised John is donating $55,000 to local charities which has spurred fundraising efforts for local food banks and Boughton is offering tours of the plant for $500 donations to local food pantries, ailing Phil Collins was rocked by ex-wife Orianne’s betrayal and pals fear he won’t make it to Christmas -- the singer was shocked when it emerged that Orianne who he’d divorced in 2006 and reunited with a decade later married another man in Las Vegas and the stunning news prompted him to serve an eviction notice to get her out of his Miami home and his life for good but Orianne refused to leave

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- Nev Schulman on roller blades in an L.A. parking lot (picture), Eboni K. Williams only landed the gig on The Real Housewives of New York City because she co-hosts State of the Culture on Sean Diddy Combs’ Revolt TV cable network and Bravo is desperate to get famous New Yorkers on the show so cameras will be following Eboni around at work hoping to catch Diddy, with Keeping Up with the Kardashians ending E! is looking for the next big reality family and it may be Sylvester Stallone’s daughters Sophia and Sistine and Scarlet Stallone who are all models and not one has a sex tape, with Bravo boss Andy Cohen and axed Housewife NeNe Leakes at war their mutual friends are being forced to pick sides -- Andy gave NeNe access to his famous non-reality show friends and now he’s regretting it -- Kelly Ripa and Anderson Cooper are all Team Andy

Page 13: Kris Kristofferson is battling Alzheimer’s disease and has been forced to retire from singing and acting but the songwriter is in the best place he can be at his home in Maui with family and friends who are surrounding him with love and support, frantic Kate Gosselin is feeling a financial pinch and ready to take a bath on her house by putting her $1.2 million mansion on the market for a measly $815,000 because she’s been struggling with money because she hasn’t worked in a while and living off the money she made in past 

Page 14: Crime 

Page 15: Marie Osmond was blue over being booted from The Talk but husband Steve Craig gave her something to get over it which was a stunning pair of opal and tanzanite earrings worth nearly $3000, Megan Thee Stallion cheated death when she was shot twice in July and is now using the terrifying incident as a platform to empower Black women and she wrote an op-ed saying the attack proved she and other Black women are not protected as human beings -- fellow rapper Tory Lanez was charged with the shooting that left two flesh-shredding wounds in Megan’s feet and allegedly took place after they argued in an SUV in Hollywood Hills 

Page 16: Cover Story -- Rampaging O.J. Simpson was driven into a kill-crazy rage after seeing photos of his ex-wife Nicole Brown Simpson dating hunky young boytoys and flaunting her body in modeling shots -- 25 years after the disgraced football star’s 1995 acquittal intimate images from Nicole’s secret photo album including a picture of the blond beauty posing topless with lover Brett Shaves is believed to have given the jealous ex-jock a motive for murder 

Page 18: American Life -- I found a $1M diamond in the rough 

Page 19: John Travolta paid tribute to wife Kelly Preston on what would have been her 58th birthday three months after tragic death following a secret two-year battle with breast cancer -- John addressed his late love in a touching Instagram post featuring an image from their 1991 wedding day alongside a picture of his own parents as newlyweds, sci-fi legend George Takei has fired yet another shot at former Star Trek castmate William Shatner as the aging actors’ war of words continues to rage on well into their 80s -- George who played Sulu claimed Shatner was jealous of the amount of fan mail received by their late co-star Leonard Nimoy who played Spock but Captain Kirk shot off a testy response and claimed George was making things up and the only person with jealousy is George -- when told Shatner’s comments George calmly remarked that you can tell by those words that he is upset to put it mildly 

Page 20: In a rerun of their long-running rivalry Madonna and Mariah Carey are prepping dueling biopics -- their cold war dates back to the ‘90s but Mariah ramped up their feud when she revealed the very exciting prospect of her biopic but that followed Madonna’s announcement that she was collaborating on her own script -- they’re each obsessed with getting their film out first and getting the right It Girl to play her so the other one doesn’t grab her first

Page 21: Elton John and ex-wife Renate Blauel agreed to zip their lips about their four-year marriage and privately settled her $3.8 million lawsuit over claims he blabbed about their relationship in his memoir Me and the movie Rocketman, Stevie Nicks admitted her insomnia has gotten so bad that she needs therapy or needs someone to hit her on the head with a hammer -- she’s long been nocturnal and it used to be she could sleep from 5 a.m. to 1 p.m. but now says she doesn’t nod off until 8 a.m., singer Amy Winehouse died in 2011 but her dad claimed he still can’t get her out of his house -- former taxi driver Mitch Winehouse who is working on a movie and stage show about the late singer insisted he’s regularly visited by his daughter’s ghost who comes and sits at the end of his bed -- Mitch also said Amy helps around the house in his dreams 

Page 26: Niecy Nash’s new bride Jessica Betts has a nightmarish criminal past according to police reports -- Jessica was arrested twice in Chicago once for domestic battery and then for selling a gun to a minor

Page 28: Stars Who Refuse to Zip It -- cringeworthy confessions and nasty habits and more -- Jennifer Love Hewitt, Megan Fox, Al Roker, Olivia Wilde 

Page 29: Kristen Stewart on Robert Pattinson, John Mayer, Lady Gaga, Suzanne Somers 

Page 32: Demi Lovato’s relentless ex Max Ehrich refuses to let her go and her friends are worried he’s turning into a stalker -- since their breakup he’s been particularly creepy, Tatum O’Neal’s confession that she was ready to jump off the balcony of a Los Angeles home was actually a desperate cry for help -- Tatum was reportedly put on a psychiatric hold at a local hospital after the alleged incident and the event signaled she was in unbearable emotional and physical pain and she feels lost and rejected because she was the youngest Oscar winner ever and now she has trouble finding a job and lost all confidence in herself 

Page 34: India Oxenberg has confessed she was afraid of former NXIVM cult master Allison Mack of TV’s Smallville -- India found herself Allison’s slave and realized she was being groomed as a sexual partner for NXIVM leader Keith Raniere and she was branded with Raniere’s initials in her pelvic regions, a disturbing TV interview in England has sparked new fears for the well-being on boxer Mike Tyson -- Mike looked like the train wreck he was when he was plowing through drugs and was sent to prison in the early ‘90s; he looked barely conscious as he slurred his speech and offered incoherent responses -- Tyson blamed his interview on lack of sleep and insisted his contact with drugs is now limited to growing and smoking pot on his California ranch 

Page 36: Health Watch

Page 42: Red Carpet -- Zendaya 

Page 45: Spot the Differences -- Debbie Matenopoulos on Home and Family