#house alarm Liverpool

[foreverisntenough]

hi! i was just wondering maybe we can get a one shot of y/n and trent and it s solely focused on the dogs?? i feel like we didn’t see much of them in ours and your mine and i love dogs so much so i wanted to know more about them 😅

could be about anything really, maybe how they first got them or their first walk or first visit at the vet. i don’t mind lol

I'm not sure why but this felt so wholesome so I decided to write a little something. We didn’t get a ton of this moments in the ‘You’re Mine’ series. It was all very progressive so this more static moment was sweet.

Ignore any grammatical errors just throwing this out there. Hope you enjoy xx

--------- My tiny one shot short below for you 🤍

'Prince and Koba'

1.6 k words | Trent Alexander-Arnold x Reader |

↳ After a summer romance, you finally travel to go to Trent's house in Liverpool for the first time. Whilst your're nervous about many things, one thing weighing on you... would his dogs like you?

---------

When Trent first mentioned his two French bulldogs in casual conversation, your heart gave a little leap. You loved dogs, and the idea of meeting his made you excited in a way that felt strangely important. Like if he let you, the relationship would be more real. There was something about dogs—how they seem to sense the core of a person—that made you feel like your upcoming visit to Trent in Liverpool wasn’t just about meeting him again but meeting the full scope of his life. His dogs were a part of that, an extension of him, and it mattered more than you cared to admit whether they’d like you. It was after one of his matches, you’d just arrived to England earlier in the day. Now late in the evening, you finally stood just inside his front door.. This was your first time visiting Trent after that magical summer romance, and now you were at his home—his sanctuary. As Trent unlocked his house door the soft chime of the alarm beeped in the background as he opened it wider to let you both in. Before you could even say anything, you heard it—the rapid patter of paws on hardwood floors. Trent’s dogs were making their way toward you. Or, more specifically, toward him.

Prince and Koba, his two French bulldogs, bounded down the hall. Trent barely had time to straighten up before they reached him, skidding to a stop at his feet, their excitement palpable. He crouched down, his game-worn body groaning a little as he did, and greeted them with all the affection they were used to. It was clear this was their routine, and you couldn’t help but smile at the way he melted into them, tired as he was. But then something shifted. Prince, the more curious of the two, turned his attention away from Trent and toward you. His ears perked up as he studied you with those round, inquisitive eyes. For a moment, he seemed to pause, as if he was weighing whether you were worth investigating. And then, with a wag of his little tail, he made his decision. The next thing you knew, Price was trotting over to you, and you couldn’t help but laugh in relief. You crouched down, holding out your hand for him to sniff, and his soft nose brushed against your fingers.

“Hi, Prince,” you cooed, your voice soft and full of joy. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” You cooed. You stayed low, letting him get a good sniff, all while scratching behind his ears. He wagged his tail a little harder, clearly pleased with your presence. Just as you were about to relax completely, Koba, the more boisterous of the two, decided it was his turn. He barreled toward you with all the grace of a bulldog who hadn’t quite mastered his own momentum. He ran into you with a solid thud, knocking you slightly off balance from your squat. You laughed, slightly thrown off-kilter now, but it was the kind of laugh that spilled out of you uncontrollably, the kind that made your cheeks hurt in the best way.

“Oh! Hello,” you giggled, catching yourself as you steadied both dogs with your hands. “Just as excited to meet you too. I promise, yeah?” You cooed gently. Trent stood up slowly, watching with an amused grin as you were swarmed by his two dogs. He had never realized just how important this moment was until now. His dogs were like an extension of him, and seeing how easily you interacted with them made something click in his chest. His heart warmed at the sight of you laughing with them, your hands ruffling their fur as if you had known them your whole life.

“They like you,” Trent said softly, his voice filled with a mix of relief and affection. You looked up at him, still smiling as you rubbed Price’s belly while Koba licked your hand.

“I’m glad,” you said, still a bit breathless from the excitement. “I was nervous they wouldn’t.” Trent chuckled, walking over to where you were still crouched down. 

“Nervous? Nah,” he said, his voice teasing but warm. “You’ve got nothing to worry about. I think they’re already in love with you.” He said it and his heart nearly stopped. He knew he was in love with you but you didn’t need to know that just yet. Seeing you with Prince and Koba had him almost fumbling. Nevertheless, whilst searching for a semblance of composure in his head, he offered you a hand, and you took it, letting him pull you up. As you stood, Prince and Koba continued to circle around your legs, clearly not ready to let you go just yet. Trent reached down to pat their heads once more before turning his full attention to you.

“You want to go to the cinema?” he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any hint of exhaustion or nerves. “I was thinking we could watch something. Unless you’d rather crash.” You smiled, feeling the weight of the day beginning to settle in your bones. 

“Sounds perfect, T.” You cooed. He nodded and gently pulled you into a cuddle. The warmth of his embrace made you relax completely. You could feel his heartbeat against your cheek as you rested your head on his chest, and the soft sounds of his dogs settling down at your feet filled the quiet space around you.

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispered into your hair, his voice so soft you almost missed it. You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. 

“Me too,” you whispered back, and you meant it more than anything. And so, as the night settled in, the excitement of the evening gave way to a cozy calm. You and Trent made your way to the cinema room, ready to unwind after a long day. The dogs, Prince and Koba, trailed behind, their little nails clicking softly against the floor. It was sweet how they followed, like they were just as eager to join in for the night. Once you sank into the plush sofa, the dogs wasted no time in making themselves at home. Koba and Prince both jumped up as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Trent, clearly used to this, chuckled and tried to gently shoo them off at first pretending them didn’t.

“Nah, not tonight, lads,” he said, giving them a halfhearted push. “Go on.” He instructed them. You smiled, watching how instinctively they ignored him and stayed close, like it was routine for them to snuggle up with Trent on quiet nights like this.

“They can stay,” you teased, giving Trent a playful nudge. “I don’t mind sharing you with them.” Trent raised an eyebrow, a grin tugging at his lips. 

“Oh yeah? Alright then, you two. Up you go.” With that simple invitation, Prince stepped in a circle a few times on the couch, as if trying to find the perfect spot, before plopping down next to you. His warm little body pressed against your thigh, his face nuzzling into you. You couldn’t help but coo softly, your hand absentmindedly stroking his fur. But Koba, ever the clown, made a far more dramatic entrance. With little hesitation, he tried to clumsily sprawl himself right across your stomach, his paws digging into you like he was trying to claim the prime cuddle spot for himself. You laughed, the sound ringing through the room, as his weight nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“Comfortable?” you giggled a question, with a raise of your eye brow looking down at him.  Trent laughed at the scene, shaking his head before reaching over to move Koba onto the cushion next to him. 

“Alright, relax, Kobs,” he teased, scratching Koba behind the ears. “You can sit with us, but I get to cuddle with her. She flew all the way here for me, not you.” You flashed him a cheeky smile, not missing the opportunity to tease him right back. 

“Mmm, sure about that? I mean, these two are pretty cute. Maybe I did come all the way to England just for them.” You teased.. Trent rolled his eyes, letting out a playful scoff. 

“Yeah, yeah. Course. Make sense. Probably didn’t even miss me one bit.” He bit back. Despite his joking annoyance, he pulled you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you leaned into him. 

“I’m kidding, baby. Missed you more than anything.” You whispered, nuzzling your face into him. He hummed kissing your hair. The comfortable silence that followed was filled with the warmth of shared affection, the soft breathing of the dogs, and the low hum of the movie you barely paid attention to. "But they were a little bit of an incentive." You cooed quietly as Trent’s hand absentmindedly stroked your arm with a disapproving shake of the head as you cuddled into his side, and every so often, Price would let out a contented sigh from where he was nestled by your leg. Koba, for all his chaotic energy, had settled comfortably on his own cushion, glancing occasionally between you and Trent as if to make sure everything was just as it should be. It was a simple, sweet moment. One of those times that felt like life had slowed down just for a while, and all the noise and chaos of the world could wait until tomorrow. For now, it was just the two of you—and, of course, the dogs—enjoying each other’s presence. “I like this,” you whispered again, breaking the silence, your voice barely above a breath as you rested your head against his chest. “Just being here with you.” Trent smiled, the kind of smile that made your heart feel warm. He kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering for a moment. “Me too,” he murmured back. 

“This is perfect.” He confirmed. And it really was.

⇨ Read other ForeverIsntEnough work here!

[jsprnt]

Healing Hearts PT.2 | Virgil van Dijk

Would a fresh start bring you more than just a new job?

WC: 2.892

Summary: Y/N L/N is a very skilled and praised physiotherapist. A certain event pushing her for a fresh start, as a physiotherapist for Liverpool FC. One question always being in the back of her mind: Will she be able to let go of her past and allow herself to experience new things?

I am awoken by the blaring sound of my alarm. Why do I always have to wake up when my bed gets so comfy? I groan, fighting the urge to snooze my alarm, checking the time while at it. It's six now, two hours to make this face look like it has seen more than four hours of sleep.

I check my messages before washing up. Walking out to the bathroom to put on my outfit. Some 90's style jeans and a body hugging cropped shirt. Nothing too much, I'll have to wear my scrubs anyway. I make my bed and do some breathing exercises to calm my nerves, meeting new people was still a big challenge for me. I finish eating breakfast and turn on the coffee machine for a nice frothy cup of coffee. Admiring the view behind my window as I sip the last bit of my coffee. The city is not entirely up yet, people still enjoying their last minutes of sleep before going to work or school.

Walking back to my room for the best part of my morning, doing my make up! I apply my base carefully. First day means first impressions, I can't go overboard, not yet. I curl my long lashes, coating them with mascara. Lining my lips with brown liner, some lip balm on top for a subtle look. I take out my jewelry box, grabbing my usual gold necklace. It was custom made, adorning my name, a graduation gift from my mom. I look into the mirror, humming a song in satisfaction as I do my hair. I grab my bag, stuffing it with things I might need throughout the day. Finally, putting on my Nike dunks and leaving my house.

I walk downstairs to my car. Thankfully my dad had arranged for it to be imported from Spain a couple weeks ago, when I accepted this job. My dad had a thing for paying for my things, maybe it  was to make up for our strained relationship or something. Either way, I wasn't going to refuse his help, it benefited us both anyways. He'd feel like a present father, and I'd feel like he cared.

I jump into my car, the dashboard lighting up. I run my hands around the steering wheel for some comfort before I hit the road. The leather soft as I trace the Mercedes logo, I loved this baby. My G-class never failed to make me feel like the bad bitch I am. I told you working hard and spending hard had its perks. I turn on the navigation system, hoping it would take me straight to the training grounds without any issues.

I turn on some music, trying to drown out my nerves and thoughts. It was never too early for some Drake. I try to pay special attention to my surroundings, since the more I memorize, the faster I can get used to this route. My navigation system pings as it tells me I've arrived. I scan my surroundings, being greeted by a security post. I drive up to it, turning my music off and rolling my window down.

"Good morning, I'm here for the new physiotherapist job." I flash the security guard a smile, he is an older man, his hair graying slightly. I might as well get friendly since I'll be here almost everyday from today onwards. "Morning to you as well. Could you some show me some sort of identification, please?." I can't help but stare at the man, his scoucer accent making it hard for me to understand right away, I should get used to it quickly. I nod quickly pulling my ID from my wallet. He looks at it, scanning through a list, probably a list of staff? His eyes light up as he, I presume sees my name on the list. "Welcome, Dr. l/n, I'll call up the head coach so he can greet you at the door." He gives me a kind smile, handing me my ID back. "Thank you, I appreciate it." I shove my ID back into my wallet, driving into the training center parking lot as the gates open for me. I park, collecting my bag as I jump out of my car. Though, not before fixing my hair and make up.

I take in my surroundings, so this is what I'll be partially calling home now. I notice some other, what I presume to be staff walk into the training center. I walk in as well, immediately being greeted by the huge Liverpool FC emblem. I hold onto my bag tightly, trying to contain my nerves.

I look to my right, the reception. The woman behind the desk looks up, flashing me a smile as I go up to her, sitting down on the chair in front of her desk.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n. I'm here for the physiotherapist job." She stares at me for a moment, before typing something on the computer. "Nice to meet you! I'm Clara, welcome to our family. I'll call down our head physio, just a second honey.”

Her response warms my heart as I nod. So far, I think I'll feel quite comfortable here. She picks up the phone, though her expression changes into one of surprise as she looks behind me, over my shoulder. "Oh, he is here already."

My eyes follow hers, being greeted by a man, around his 50's. He walks up to me, extending his hand to me. "Welcome Dr. l/n. I've heard a lot about you, nice to finally see the woman being so highly spoken of by my colleagues." I smile and grab his hand in a firm handshake. "It's an honor to finally meet you, Dr. Woods."

He chuckles, before letting go of my hand. "Let's talk more inside, the boss wants to meet you as well." I turn back towards Clara, mumbling a quick thank you to her, before following Dr. Woods inside the training center. I glance around, it’s is even bigger in real life. I had watched some YouTube video's of the club just to prepare and calm my anxiety, but seeing it in real life was very different. We stop in front of an office, the label reading 'Manager'. I raise my eyebrows in surprise. I'd already be meeting THE Klopp. I rub my hands together trying to get rid of that anxious feeling.

Dr. Woods knocks on the door loudly, the door is opened a couple of seconds later, revealing Klopp.

"Hey, I'm here to introduce our new physiotherapist." The doctor informs. Klopp looks at me, giving me one of his famous smiles. "Right of course, come in." He opens the door wider, we both walk in. He ushers us to sit down on his red sofa's. He sticks out his hand, we shake hands as he introduces himself, with that all too well known German accent. "It's always nice to greet new members of our big family. Welcome, I'm Jürgen Klopp." I introduce myself as well, his eyes light up in recognition as I tell him my name. "I've heard very great things about you Dr. l/n. I'm very happy to see you here."

"No it's an honor for me, this club is amazing and I'm happy to contribute to the team." I reply, my worries and nerves had been washed away just like- that. I just know that this was one of the best decisions I've ever made.

We start chatting about how I've adjusted to living here, my education and my experience before they start asking different questions.

"So that means you speak how many languages?"

Dr. Woods asks curiously.

"Well my native tongues would be Dutch since I was born and raised in The Netherlands and Turkish, since I'm half Turkish. I'm also fluent in English as you can hear." We chuckle. "Though I do speak some Spanish and Catalan since I worked at FC Barcelona for two years, as you know."

"Great so you'll have no problem with speaking to the players huh? Especially our very loved Dutch players." We laugh at Klopps comment. I secretly hope that too.

Our conversation comes to an end as Klopp suggests I meet the players. He checks his watch, before looking at me. "Players will come in any moment now. They'll start with warming up." Dr. Woods chimes in. "It will be a recovery day since the team played a match yesterday as you may have followed."

Oh yeah I did. I watched it just so I could take notes on the players, the draw at the end was kind of disappointing. Though, it was better than losing.

"Right, I did watch it. Just to study a little before I do see the team play in real life."

"You're impressive Doctor, doing homework before even starting to work." Klopp says. "Oh it's nothing really, just prepares me for what I might encounter as I start working here." I dismiss.

We stand up after a short while, Dr. Woods taking me to put on my scrubs. I mentally pray they have pink ones, both of my former clubs did have them. He walks up to a machine, telling me exactly how the scrub dispenser worked. I nod, pressing some buttons before choosing my size. The scrubs are a- dark red? Well, at least they are part of the club colors. Dr. Woods leads me to the woman's staff changing room. I walk and change quickly putting my hair up in a claw clip.

I walk out of the room after putting my stuff in my locker, and installing a code on it. "I'm ready."

I tell him, he looks at my scrubs for a second. "Red looks great on you Dr. l/n, part of the family already." We chuckle before he leads me to the gym.

A sudden wave of nervousness hits me. I had known that the players were very friendly, still I couldn't help but feel like an unsure inexperienced intern again. We walk into the gym, it's big with plenty of space for calisthenic training like, push-ups and burpees. I look around seeing some the worlds best star players. I've worked some of the best football players like Lewandowski and Frenkie de Jong, but this still felt super insane.

I notice Klopp walking in as he calls for the players to gather around to introduce me. I glance around, they all give me a kind smile as Klopp tells them I'll be their new physiotherapist starting this new season, and of course he couldn't help but mention I'm Dutch. "Nice to meet everyone, I look forward to working with you all." I give them a smile, my dimples on full display. Suddenly, one of the players walks up to me, I immediately recognize him, who wouldn't? It's the caption of the team, well of his national team too. Virgil towers over me, sticking out his hand, his tall frame couldn't be compared to what you see on TV or the pitch. "Welcome to our team y/n, or should I call you doctor." He flashes me a beautiful smile, making me shake his hand and smile in respons. "Hi, y/n is fine, it's good to be here." Other players come to greet me as well, not to forget Robertson, who has to crack a joke about another Dutch person joining the club. "You'd think it was planned huh." We laugh and chat for a bit before Klopp redirects the attention back to him.

"Alright everyone, it's recovery day so take it easy and tell our doctors if something's up as they assist you."

Dr. Woods turns to me, telling me to follow his lead as I slowly start getting the gist of how everything works here. I nod at him, watching as he talks to the players about any soreness they're experiencing.

The day progress quickly as lunch time hits, we walk into the canteen. Seems like players and staff eat at the same time just like in Barcelona.

I walk through the the buffet as I'm greeted by Gakpo.

"Dus je bent echt Nederlands?" (So you're actually Dutch?) he asks in Dutch, full of curiosity. "Natuurlijk, geboren en getogen. Net als jij." (Of course born and raised. Just like you.)

He gives me a cute smile before we continue speaking in Dutch as we fill up our plates with healthy and delicious food.

He invites me to sit with the team. I glance at him wondering if it is a good idea. Well I did sit with the players at Barca too. "Are you sure?" I ask. "Yeah, look around players sit with staff at every table." I take a glance around, he was right staff and players were sitting together at every table. Chatting and laughing together. "Okay then, I'll sit with you guys."

He leads me to a table, already occupied by Trent, Virgil, Joel, Andrew and new star transfer Dominik Szoboszlai. "Doctor, very nice of you to sit with us." Virgil chimes in. "Well I couldn't refuse when Cody offered, we're practically already family based on the fact that we're Dutch hm." The table erupts in laughter, as we glance at Cody. "Of course the Dutch lad steals the doctor before we get to know her." Trent teases, his Scouse accent thick. "Where did you work before joining us?" Robbo asks, shoving a spoonful food into his mouth. Everyone at the table turns to me for my answer.

I clear my throat before answering. "I first interned at Ajax, I got a three year contact there after graduating. Then I got offered a position at Barcelona, worked there for two years." They nod in acknowledgement. Before Cody mentions something. "Oh you're the famous pretty doctor?!" I stare at him confused. "What do you mean?" "Well the national team players used to always talk about a pretty doctor working at Ajax." I raise a brow at his words, glancing at Virgil to confirm, since he also is apart of the national team. "Can't lie Doctor, they did talk about a pretty Doctor." I give them an impressed look. "I guess that would be me?" I chuckle.

We chat some more as everyone chimes in, though some of their faces turning confused. "Wait how old are you then?" One of them asks. "Oh I'm twenty-five." I reply. "Wow, you're pretty impressive for someone so young." Joel says. I thank him as we all continue eating and chatting in between bites.

Recovery training had gone by fast. I had gotten much more familiar with team and how they operate. Klopp dismisses everyone, as we all walk back into our designated changing rooms. Though, I'm quickly stopped by Dr. Woods. He tells me he'll make sure someone adds me to the staff group chat, as well as the group chat the entire club is in. We then bid each other goodbye as I enter the female staff changing room. I take a minute to sit down and to take it all in, that really just happend huh.

I change quickly putting my outfit back on and discarding my scrubs into the laundry basket. I do a quick make up refresh and hair fix before I grab my bag and take out my car keys. I walk through the hallways slowly, looking around for things I might have not seen yet. I’m totally in my own world before I hear my name being called. I turn around, I'm greeted by both Trent and Dominik, seems like they had been getting along nicely since Dominik had transferred here.

"Are you going out?" The new star asks. "Yeah, you guys aren't?" I lift a brow at them. I can see small smirks on their faces, they look like schoolboys hiding something. "Oh yes, we're leaving just now." We chat a little before we walk outside, saying goodbye to Clara at the reception. I notice other cars had parked right next to mine. "Bye doctor, we'll see ya tomorrow, right?" The Scoucer says. I nod "See you guys!" They wave before they both get into their respective cars.

I unlock my car, climbing in before closing the door. I place my bag onto the passengers seat, leaning back for a second. First day: survived.

Sadly, my peace is interrupted by a loud car horn. I raise my head and lower my window, it's the car next to me? I squint, it's an English car so I can see who it is from my seat. The person lowers down his windows as well. It's Virgil?

"What's wrong?" I half shout, so he can hear me through the loud engine of his car. "Nothing just wanted your attention." I chuckle, man these football players never got tired of teasing people. I roll my eyes playfully, before starting my car. I wave at him, before driving my car out of the parking slot.

I get home rather quickly, my speakers playing my favorite songs loudly. I enter my house, feeling fulfilled. I throw myself on my couch after washing up. I reflect on the day, the players and staff were amazingly kind. Though, that small interaction with Trent and Dominik was weird, why were they so smirky?

[upsettingandunfortunateclasshate]

Taking things under council control does not mean they're being run by and for the people, it means they're being run by and for a load of unanswerable often corrupt middle class and rich people

They're all on the take to some degree from diddling expenses to major fraud to bribery and witness intimidation in Liverpool

Labour are particularly bad in regards to redevelopment, housing, gentrification etc. Many councillors have links to the developers and benefit financially or in other ways.

[fisintegratedsolutionsltd]

How to Test and Maintain Your Home Fire Alarm System in Liverpool

The safety at home is greatly reliant on a working fire alarm system. It will keep you, as well as your loved ones, safe. However, preparing for whatever may arise requires testing and proper condition of this system over time. Here's how you should do it or take help in case the emergency home alarm service in Liverpool is there to help.

1. Know Your System

Before you test, familiarize yourself with your fire alarm system. Different systems will have different features and requirements, so for example, if you bought your system from a fire alarm company in Liverpool, refer to your manual or contact them for information about your product.

2. Testing Monthly

Your fire alarm system is regularly tested; it's very easy to do:

Press the Test Button: Most smoke detectors will have a test button. Press it to check whether your alarm is working. If it's not sounding, you should replace the batteries or the unit itself.

Check the Indicator Lights: Many alarm units are equipped with lights that indicate operational status. Make sure these indicator lights are functioning the way they're supposed to.

Use Smoke Testers. For added assurance on the sensitivity of your alarm, you may use smoke testers sold in local hardware stores. Follow the product instructions carefully to have a thorough test.

3. Replace Batteries Regularly

For battery-operated alarms, change the batteries every year. As a routine, this also means you change your clocks for daylight saving time. If you have a hardwired system, make sure it has a backup battery and test the backup often.

4. Clean Your Alarms

Dust and debris can accumulate and impact your alarm functionality. Vacuum with a soft-bristled attachment; clean the units. Be sure to follow the manufacturer's instructions on how to clean them.

5. Arrange Professional Inspections

But besides periodic testing, it is best to engage a professional to inspect your fire alarm system. Fire alarm service providers in Liverpool can give you a full test for any kind of system. This is especially true with older homes or any business that installs commercial fire alarm systems in Liverpool as these may need more than the routine check-up.

6. Know When to Replace Your System

Most smoke alarms last for approximately ten years. If that's been the case with when yours were installed or even longer, you are probably due for replacement. An older installation will not meet today's safety standards nor protect you well.

7. Educate Your Family

All household members are expected to be aware of the location of the fire alarm system and how it works. Conduct regular fire drill activities so that each member knows his role in case of an emergency.

Conclusion

Maintain your house fire alarm system since it is highly recommended to do so. Regular testing, battery replacement, cleaning, and professional inspection by a reliable company in Liverpool will ensure that the system is always optimal. This also provides you peace of mind with your family, knowing that you are prepared for whatever situation arises. Learn more at FIS Integrated Solutions Ltd about fire safety services.

[denimbex1986]

'In All of Us Strangers, Andrew Haigh’s sixth feature film, the first thing we see is light: the hazy blue dawn, then the sunrise painting the tower blocks on London’s skyline a raw, fiery red. There’s a kind of otherworldly radiance that courses throughout this haunting romance, landing somewhere between modern-day ghost story and deftly rendered family drama – with a shy, gay writer Adam (Andrew Scott) at its heart.

Mostly locked away in his city flat and gazing listlessly at a blank Word doc on his laptop, or otherwise watching crackly Top of the Pops videos while snacking on gingernut biscuits, Adam has decided to start work on a new screenplay which revisits his childhood growing up in eighties Britain. Simultaneously, his sole, slightly chaotic neighbour Harry (Paul Mescal) in an eerily empty (and yet very tall) apartment building begins paying him late-night visits, having spied Adam through his window during a routine fire alarm drill.

Aside from the unsettling lack of other people in this metropolitan setting, so far, so normal. That is until Adam hops on an overground train back to the sprawling suburbia of his youth and there encounters his parents (Claire Foy and Jamie Bell) going about daily life as usual in their two-bed detached house, mysteriously unaged – roughly as old as Adam himself – and seemingly ready, if a little bit startled, to welcome him back home.

In terms of thematic territory and genre, All of Us Strangers draws the most parallels to Haigh’s 2011 Tom Cullen-starring romcom-adjacent drama, Weekend. But unlike the rest of his oeuvre, Haigh’s latest has a distinctive supernatural edge, owed in large part to his source material, Strangers by Taichi Yamada. Around the skeleton of the concept of Yamada’s novel, however, Haigh – both writer and director – has done the heavy lifting, fleshing out a reality in which the ripples made by the AIDS crisis are still felt in the lives of queer men. The present is threaded with the past in this stirring love story where what’s real and what’s not are left captivatingly unclear.

The echoes of eighties anthems, from the Pet Shop Boys to Frankie Goes to Hollywood – amidst a masterfully hypnotic score by Emilie Levienaise-Farrouch – are both comforting and unnerving in equal measure, hoisting this bygone decade back into the present, while other hints of the past (a car screech, a child that resembles the young Harry) are scattered cleverly throughout the narrative like a trail of breadcrumbs. And – the dialogue between Adam and Harry suggests – fundamentally things haven’t really changed that much for the queer community, despite Adam’s faltering protest to his mother that “things are different now”.

One concern that runs through Weekend and All of Us Strangers is the idea that coming out to one’s parents is a key, formative experience. The two protagonists of these films, for different reasons, have this moment stolen from them, leaving them unable in some way to settle into their sense of self. For Adam, queer loneliness – the isolation triggered by the fact that society posits straightness as the norm, necessarily leaving queer individuals on the margins – is compounded by the grief of losing his parents, doubling up on his fears of forever being alone.

Scott navigates this tricky emotional terrain with irrefutable skill, harnessing the many complexities of this young writer, from a cautious reservedness in his new romantic relationship with Harry to a childlike fragility found with his family. Meanwhile, Foy and Bell give staggering performances as his parents. Only Mescal feels ever so slightly out of place as Adam’s zany, troubled neighbour – with a northern accent unconvincing enough to rival Barry Keoghan’s Liverpool accent in Saltburn – often seen swinging a bottle in his hand. (He does at one point ditch alcohol, but that doesn’t last for long.) There is, though, plenty of chemistry between the two leads, and the sex scenes in which they both star feel refreshingly sincere and understated.

These juxtapositions – crimson and violet, past and present, emotional frostiness and warmth – seem to be at the core of All of Us Strangers, Adam see-sawing between these different poles as he struggles to hold onto his relationships. With its many-windowed apartment blocks and sunlight-brushed train windows, All of Us Strangers is a film swarming with reflections, both literal and symbolic – but in spite of this self-scrutiny, Haigh’s conclusion finds our sense of the present is as hazy as our sense of the past. Beneath its light, tenderness and warmth, this examination of queer loneliness is often chilling, disruptive and bravely unafraid of leaving its question marks un-erased.'

[joshuasearing]

Tuesday 2nd May 2023

Hey journal sorry I have been really busy the past couple days with work and others things I have been really struggling to keep up with everything. Anyways past couple days have been ok but really stressful due to work. 2 days ago after work I went to the gym with my girlfriend. We went to the gym I usually go to and the one I have a monthly membership to. Anyways as we went there I asked how much a day pass is as my girlfriend needed to one however the worker I know there said it is usually be £15 pounds but as we know you we will just let her in for free which was really nice from her. Anyways at the gym I did a pull day and It was really good and I worked my absolute ass off. After the gym me and my girlfriend walked to my house as the weather was really nice so we choose to not get the bus. Once we got home we relaxed with each other for a little bit. After being in my room for a bit, we decided to go downstairs to watch football. She supports Liverpool and I support Tottenham and they were both playing against each other. The first half was shit as we played awful, however the 2nd half was much better and was actually nice to watch. Anyways we ended up scoring in one of the last minutes for an equaliser and the person that scored was a player that use to play for a team that was really big rivals with liverpool so everton. Anyways we all thought It was the end of the game. Anyways in the last minute Lucas Moura accidentally loses the ball and liverpool get the ball and score and they end up beating us right at the end. Anyways after football we went back upstairs and relaxed with each other for a little bit before both going to bed.

Anyways yesterday started of by my mum waking me up as my alarm had not went off meaning I did not wake up and when I decided to look on my app the alarms had completely dissapeared on my phone which was so confusing. Anyways my mum ended up having to drop me of to work otherwise I would of ended up being really late. Anyways luckily I ended up getting to work on time. Anyways work was stressful like usual. It was really busy especially in the morning as there was a car meet in the car park outside. Also on top of that it was a bank holiday monday so some people were not working like usual. So it sort of felt like a weekend shift. Anyways sometimes I had to run parks out to customers and It was so difficult occationally finding there cars as there were loads of cars outside due to the car meet. Also due to the car meet loads of people were outside there cars talking about them with other people that are into cars. At one point I had some people from the car meet try to help me find a customers car but they could not either. Anyways also In the morning they ended up putting me on headset and drinks which is a station that I am really weak on and I struggled to really keep up and ended up forgetting to do a lot of drinks and ended up making loads of mistakes. Anyways after a while I ended up feeling really stressed and luckily they allowed me to come off the station so someone else can go on it whilst I go back to instore. Anyways after work I went home I got both me and my girlfriend a mcflurry so I suprised my girlfriend with a ice cream that she was happy with. Once I got home I spent some time with my girlfriend which was nice. After a few hours she got picked up and went home. Once she left I went downstairs and watched Everton vs Leicester. They ended up drawing however I ended up falling asleep after about 60 minutes of the game. Anyways I ended up waking on the sofa this morning and I slept the whole night on the sofa instead of in my bed.

Speak to you later journal. Goodbye journal!

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[avenirdelight]

The Best We Could Ever Ask For

Trent Alexander-Arnold

Trent comes home to an upset son and an upset wife, and that’s where he steps in.

The house was exceptionally quiet when Trent entered the front door, which meant that his wife and son had already gone to sleep. He checked his watch and it showed half past ten. From what his wife had told him, it had been a long and tiring day for the son and mum, so it was only right that they were already in bed.

Trent tiptoed upstairs. After dropping his bag by the top of the stairs, he made his way to his son’s room. As he very carefully opened the door with a big wooden T nailed on it, he peeked inside, expecting to find his three-year-old sleeping.

He was surprised when he saw the boy still wide awake, blankly staring at the ceiling. Like usual, his favourite stuffed animals were laid beside him to make him comfortable, and his Liverpool blanket wrapped his little figure to keep him warm.

“Hey, little man,” Trent greeted, and the toddler shot his head to the door, looking a little alarmed. “It’s just me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Daddy? You’re home?” His little voice asked.

Trent entered the room and left the door ajar. “Yeah, sorry I’m home so late. Why aren’t you asleep?” He bent down to plant a kiss on his son’s forehead, then took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I can’t sleep.”

“Yeah? Why?”

The boy pouted. He grabbed the closest stuffed animal and hugged it. Trent slightly furrowed his eyebrows because his son actually looked sad, and even worse, worried. Now what could possibly be bothering his bright little mind? Trent was dying to know, he didn’t like knowing that his little bundle of joy was having trouble sleeping because he was worried about something.

“I made mummy sad today,” he confessed.

Trent raised his eyebrows, taken aback by the answer his son had given him. “You made mummy sad today?”

He nodded his head, giving the confirmation. “I was sad a lot today, I cried a lot.”

Tantrums. What he meant was tantrums. He had many tantrums today and it must’ve taken a toll on his mother. They’d gone out with her friends today, lunch date for the mums and playdate for the kids. Trent winced, he didn’t know what actually had happened, he could only imagine how awful it must’ve been for both of them. Tantrums were already awful as it were, tantrums in public were total nightmares.

“Oh, T… I’m sorry,” Trent said as he brushed the boy’s hair out his face. “You don’t have to be sad again now, okay lad? Daddy is here. Do you want a hug?”

Little T quickly nodded. Trent smiled and helped him to get up and pull him into a warm embrace. His strong arms safely wrapped his little boy’s small figure; the boy rested his head on Trent's shoulder as his little arms clung around his neck.

Trent felt the boy melted in his hug. He caressed his back that slowly rose up and down as he breathed; Trent found himself matching the breathing pattern. It had been a long day for him too. Maybe he needed the hug more than his son, because honestly it was the thing he missed the most when he had to be away.

“I want to say sowwy to mummy,” Little T mumbled to Trent’s shoulder, but Trent couldn’t catch it.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

Trent put the boy back on the bed and he looked up to Trent with his beautiful eyes that looked just like his father’s.

“I want to say sowwy to mummy.”

The voice was small but Trent couldn’t miss the hint of sadness in it. His heart clenched, he almost choked up. What a kind soul that they were raising. Tantrums were only natural but the fact that his son understood that his tantrums could possibly hurt his mum and made him feel the need to apologise was something really important.

“How about we go to sleep now and then we’ll talk to mum in the morning. How does that sound?”

Little T nodded as he brought his stuffed animal back to his embrace. Trent put the blanket on him again as he put another kiss on his son’s forehead. “Now go to sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

Trent then left the room, he let out a heavy sigh right after he closed the door.

It was a weird feeling that was filling up his chest, something that he was getting familiar with lately. It’s a mixture of so many feelings, like he was touched and proud at the same time. Trent didn’t know whether it was a big thing or not. Or maybe it was just how being a dad to an amazing kid felt like.

—

A little frown appeared on Trent’s face when he saw the state his wife was in. She was asleep; the blanket was still neatly folded, her hair was still tied, and she wasn’t in her sleeping attire, which meant that she’d unintentionally fallen asleep before she got ready for bed.

She stirred when Trent kissed her cheek. She’d become a light sleeper ever since their child was born, always alarmed by sounds or touches; Trent almost regretted not just letting her sleep.

“Oh, you’re home,” she mumbled with her hoarse voice.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He sat on the bed as she did a little stretch.

“It’s okay… God, I fell asleep, I haven’t even changed my clothes.”

“Tiring day, huh?” he asked, gently massaging her legs. He always gave her legs massages and he knew she needed it the most on days like today. “Were the tantrums bad?”

“Wait–” She rubbed her eyes, trying to get herself to full consciousness. “T told you that?”

“Yeah, he couldn’t sleep, said that he made mummy upset because he cried a lot today.”

She huffed as she sat up, brushing some strands of hair out of her face. “He had the worst tantrums,” she muttered. “He sulked all day, didn’t want to do anything, and everything I did was wrong to him. Way too many screams and tears, I felt like I was going crazy.” She frowned and sighed heavily. “In fact, I’ve actually lost it. I yelled at him. God, why did I yell at him…”

“Oh, babe… Come here.”

Trent pulled her into a hug and stroked her back, and she immediately let out a little cry.

“I’m the worst mum.”

“No, you’re not.” He quickly disapproved, quite strongly and it showed in his voice. “It’s just a bad day, that’s all.” He caressed her hair and planted a kiss on top of her head, before letting her go and searching for her face again. “You’re the best mum. The best T and I could ever ask for.”

She sniffled, before her smile rose and eventually, Trent’s did too. She looked tired, her eyes were puffy, but she looked incredibly pretty. So pretty, he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe for a moment. And before he even knew it, he was leaning in and capturing her lips with his. He kissed her so softly, so gently, as if she was gonna break if he pushed it too hard.

But it seemed like she wanted more, because she went to straddle his hips; his hands skilfully caught her, wrapped around her waist. After a long stressful day, a bit of love from Trent was all she needed.

“I need to say sorry to him,” she said as she leaned their foreheads together, a bit breathless from the kiss.

A chuckle escaped Trent’s lips before he couldn’t even stop it. She tilted her head with her eyebrows knitted, almost offended because Trent chose to laugh when she was being extremely serious.

“It’s not funny, don’t laugh.” She playfully pushed a hand against his chest.

“Nah, nah, nah, I’m not laughing,” he shook his head. “It’s just– He said the exact same thing. He said that he wanted to say sorry to you.”

Her expression changed in a swift manner, from offended to touched. She pulled a hand to her chest as she softly gasped. “He did??” She exclaimed. Her eyes quickly started to glisten with tears.

“Yeah, I can tell that he absolutely regrets it. He also doesn’t like making his mum upset.”

“Oh, he’s such a sweet boy…”

“He got it from you.”

“And the crankiness from you. Definitely from you.”

Trent’s eyes fluttered close as he nodded. “Yep… My fault.”

She giggled as she brushed some locks out of his face with her fingers. “He’s perfect. He’s the most incredible boy,” she said.

“He is. And that’s because you’re raising him right.”

Trent meant it. He needed to be away quite a lot for work, he couldn’t deny that his wife took the bigger part of taking care of their son. He played his parts too, but he knew that Little T wouldn’t be the amazing kid that he was if it wasn’t for her. And really, he was relieved and grateful to know that his son was growing up to be an incredible person like his mum.

—

A subtle smile appeared on her face when she walked down the stairs, because there were familiar giggles coming from the kitchen that immediately lifted her mood up. Her heart also warmed up when he found Trent and Little T sitting side by side at the breakfast table. Sunshine shone on them through the window and the view looked like it came straight from a movie scene.

“Good morning,” she greeted, interrupting their trains of giggles.

“Oh, good morning, mummy!” Big T said.

“Good mowning, mummy!” Little T copied.

“Wow, did daddy make breakfast?”

They were enjoying their breakfast which appeared to be some toast and bananas. And there was one full untouched plate across them.

“Yes, T helped me, didn’t you, lad?”

The little boy nodded enthusiastically as he munched on his banana. She gave him a little kiss on top of his head, before giving Trent a kiss on his cheek.

“Wow, this looks so good!” She exclaimed as she occupied the chair across them. “Thank you, baby.”

Little T smiled and nodded again. But his face suddenly dropped and he turned to his father like he was going to say something. With raised eyebrows, Trent leaned in. The boy leaned in too and whispered something in his dad’s ear.

She furrowed her eyebrows watching the scene that was happening in front of her. Was the two boys sharing a secret or something? She felt left out for a second.

“So, mum,” Trent started with a serious voice. “T wants to say something to you.” Trent turned to their son. “Go on, T.”

The little boy was looking up at her with his round, glistening brown eyes. He looked a little bit nervous, but his father was gently rubbing his back, giving him a little courage.

“I’m sowwy, mummy,” he mumbled, shifting his gaze back and forth between her eyes and the table. “I cried a lot yesterday and made you upset. I’m sowwy.”

She couldn’t handle the wave of emotions that hit her—her nose suddenly felt itchy and her eyes started to water a little bit, she was getting choked up. Yesterday was rough, it wasn’t a good day for both of them. She clearly regretted how things had gone, and knowing that her little boy felt the need to say sorry made her regret it even more.

“Oh, it’s okay, baby.” She stared at Little T with a fond gaze. “I’m sorry too, okay? I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It’s okay.” He nodded. “I promise I won’t cry a lot again.”

“That’s my son,” Trent said. His hand went to Little T’s curls to ruffle it. He glanced at his wife and she also had a proud look hinted all over her face. They shared a smile that pretty much said “he was the best son we could ever ask for”.

“Hey, I have an idea,” Trent turned to his son and caught his full attention right away. “How about we let mummy rest at home today, and we go somewhere. Do you want to go to the toy store?”

Little T’s eyes lit up at the mention of his most favourite place in the whole world—well, maybe after the backyard where he could spend forever playing footie. He instantly nodded his head, quite enthusiastically.

“Can I buy a car?” He pleaded not only with his voice but with his entire face, drawing a chuckle from Trent.

“Yeah, of course,” Trent answered. Little T grinned and continued to munch on his toast. “And we can pick up some muffins for mummy on our way back.”

Her head perked up, lips slightly curving into a wider smile. And she wasn’t lying when she said she could suddenly smell the sweet scent of freshly-baked apple cinnamon muffins, which she actually would love to have right now. A glass of iced coffee would be the best pair. Trent and T could play cars inside, and she could sit by the pool with a book, muffins, and coffee. It really sounded like a perfect Friday plan.

“Thank you, baby,” she said as she extended her hand across the table. Trent took it and caressed his thumb on the back of her hand, mumbling “not a problem, baby” as he did.

“Daddy, can I have more bananas, please?”

Little T’s request brought Trent’s attention back to him. “Yeah, sure,” he said, wasting no time to go back to the kitchen. She started enjoying her toast as her eyes followed his movement, and kept following him when he cut some more bananas for their son.

Her heart was full. Joy was wrapped around her heart watching her husband taking care of their little one and knowing that he was willing to spend time with their son on his day off so she could have time for herself.

She knew she was lucky. Little T was kind of an unplanned gift that they’d received and back then, she hadn’t known if they were ready to be parents—she hadn’t known if Trent was ready to be a dad. She didn’t expect much but since day one, Trent exceeded all the expectations that she didn’t even dare to make. He’d always proved that he was a good dad.

And truly, Trent was the best dad T and she could ever ask for.

—

i think this is my first dad trent fic? boyfriend trent can step aside for a second😂 i've been working on 3 trent fics at the same time so it's nice to finally finish one of them and post it!! this took me long to finish, left in on the draft and come back to it so many times because i wasn’t sure what to do with it, not to mention the occasional writer’s block😂 this is how it turned out and i hope you enjoyed it!

comments, feedback, reblogs will be much appreciated! thank you so much😊❤️

My Masterlist🤍

[pleasantlyinsincere]

Older, long-ish article about and with quotes from Mal’s diary and manuscript. Maybe gives a small impression of what to expect.

First published in The Sunday Times Magazine, 20 March 2005

By Mark Edmonds

Exclusive: WITH A LITTLE HELP FROM THEIR FRIEND

One man devoted himself to running the daily lives of The Beatles. So why do his diaries, seen here for the first time, strike a sad note?

HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE The Beatles were his life. He was their mate, driver, skivvy - even co-musician. Mal Evan's diaries, seen here for the first time, reveal the everyday secrets of pop's greatest band.

Mal Evans began the 1960's as a Post Office engineer in Liverpool. By the end of the decade, he'd appeared in three out of the five Beatles films and was an occasional musician on their albums. It was Mal playing the organ on Rubber Soul, Mal who sounded the alarm clock in A Day in The Life. On Abbey Road, it was Mal, not Maxwell, who banged the silver hammer.

Part of the Beatles' small but exceptionally protective inner sanctum, Mal was one of just two witnesses at Paul McCartney's first wedding. Among the hundreds of claimants to the threadbare title "fifth Beatle", he was arguably the most deserving. Wherever the Beatles went, Mal would never be far behind.

In the 10 years he spent as their road manager, Mal was blessed with a greater insight than most into the group's spectacular rise, their domination of pop in the middle years, and their painful implosion in a welter of recriminations. Throughout the decade, he kept a series of diaries and wrote an unpublished autobiography; all of this had remained unseen, part of an archive that went missing when Mal himself died in bizarre circumstances in 1976.

For many years, an ever-growing number of Beatles historians have regarded the Mal Evans archive at the Holy Grail. Last year, rumors surfaces that it had turned up in a suitcase in a Sydney street market (not true) and that it contained outtakes of unreleased Beatle songs (ditto).The reality is rather more prosaic: 10 years after Mal's death, Yoko Ono was told about a trunk full of his effects that had been found by a temp clearing out files in the basement of a New York publisher; she arranged for them to be shipped back to his family in London. Among those effects were his diaries, which his widow, Lily, kept for years in an attic at her home.

Together with the photographs on these pages, most of them taken by Mal himself, they amount to a fascinating collection: the unwitting historic recollections of a Forrest Gump of a man, who by sheer good fortune ended up in the right place at the right time.

The story, inevitably, begins in Liverpool. A keen rock'n'roll fan, Mal would while away what he called his "extended lunchtimes" at the Cavern Club before putting in a brief appearance at the Post Office and then heading off to his house in Hillside Road, Mossley Hill.

In 1961 he had married a local girl, Lily, whom he had met at a funfair at New Brighton. Their first child, Gary, was born in the same year. Mal's life was settled, mundane and ordinary; nobody could have predicted that the bizarre twists and turns of his life in the next 15 years would lead to his premature and avoidable death at the hands of the police in California.

At the Cavern, Mal was soon noticed by the Beatles, who had a lunchtime residency at the club. George Harrison felt that Mal, at 6ft 3in, would make an ideal bouncer. He was also of an exceptionally gentle disposition, and Harrison was canny enough to realize that this too would be useful in the years ahead.

In the first few pages of his 1963 Post Office Engineering Union-issue diary, which includes information about Ohm's law and Post Office pay rates, he reflects upon his good fortune. Looking back on the previous year, he writes: "1962 a wonderful year... Could I wish for more beautiful wife, Gary, house, car... guess I was born with a silver canteen of cutlery in my mouth. Wanted a part time job for a long time - now bouncing... Lost tooth in 1962."

With this, Mal sets the tone. We soon find he is more the Pooter than the Pepys. As The Beatles' road manager - and trusted implicitly by all four - he is presented with an "access all areas" ticket to one of the best parties of the century. Yet somehow he never quite realizes it.

The year 1963 is crucial for The Beatles, ergo for Mal. At the start of the year it is becoming clear that working with them, particular on tour, is a more engaging diversion for him than family life in Mossley Hill. The band, now managed by Brian Epstein, are beginning to realize their potential. Mal drives them to London for one of their early BBC appearances (see panel [end of the article]), and later they make the most of the capital.

January 21, 1963: "Lads went shopping. Paul and George bought slacks. George a shirt in Regent St. This was before the Sat Club recording and we lost them for a while. Back to Lower Regent Studios for recording talent spot. Met Patsy Ann Noble, Rog Whittaker, Gary Marshall, a really good show. Also on the bill was a Birkenhead singer. At about 8.15 the boys went to Brian's room in the Mayfair for a Daily Mail interview. I parked the gear and joined them later... We left London at about 10 o'clock, stopping at 'Fortes' on M1 for large dinner - bought by the Beatles - and so homeward bound. Met a lot of fog... suddenly after leaving M1 short time windscreen cracked with a terrible bang. Had to break hole in windscreen to see... Stopped for tea at transport cafe... and arrived home at about five o'clock. I was up at 7.45 but lads laid in till about five that night. Lucky devils. They were on that night at the Cavern as fresh as ever with no after effects. The Beatles certainly have gone up in my estimation. They are all great blokes with a sense of humor and giving one the feeling they are a real team."

For much of the early 1960's, touring became Mal's life. Against the wishes of Lily, left at home with Gary, Mal gave up his job at the Post Office in order to be at the Beatles' beck and call full time, clocking up industrial levels of mileage driving from Liverpool to London. He was also expected to attend to almost every personal whim. John Lennon, who had a predilection for enigmatic silences, would punctuate these with murmured requests such as "socks, Mal" - at which point Mal would scoot off to Marks and Spencer to fetch six pairs in navy cotton.

By the spring of that year, Beatlemania was under way, Mal and Neil Aspinall, another old friend from Liverpool, accompanied the Beatles on all of their tours, making up what was an astonishing pared-down entourage. Aspinall still runs the Beatles' Apple organization.

The Beatle' first European tour began in Paris in January 1964. The ever-loyal Mal was on hand, this time accompanied by Lily and their young son. Mal writes about a "big punch-up" with photographers in Paris. In the manuscript of his unpublished book he recalls that this was "the only fight I got involved in on behalf of the Beatles" - although he was terrified when he and the band were nearly beaten up by Ferdinand Marcos's thugs in Manilla in 1966.

To mark the news in 1964 that the Beatles had reached number 1 in the US for the first time, Mal writes that Epstein threw a party at the hotel. Some journalists then hired prostitutes to provide a lesbian show for the Beatles in the room next to Epstein's. "It was a little unnerving to have these ladies performing before our eyes with each othe in one room, with Brian and more staid members of the press in the adjoining living room. I guess celebrations caters to everybody's different tastes."

With Beatlemania in full swing, Mal seems strangely oblivious: there is no sense in any of the diaries that he is working for the most famous, most successful pop stars of the time. But odd, intimate little moments are recorded:

March 18, 1964: "Had plastic cups in top pocket - milk poured in by George. John says after sarnies, 'Mal, you are my favorite animal.'"

****

After two further exhausting years on the road, the Beatles were ready to give up touring: the whole tiresome process had ceased to be of interest to the group. The Beatles, and Mal, for that matter, were just worn out.

But now there was a larger role for Mal as a studio "fixer": as the music became more complicated, he was dealing with an increasingly outlandish inventory of instruments and equipment, and he sometimes contributed as a musician. More than any other year so far, 1967 presented Mal and the Beatles with undremt-of possibilities: it was the year of satin tunics, Carnaby Street and Sgt. Pepper; the band was its creative, cohesive peak. On a more mundane level, Paul found himself without a housekeeper at his house at St. John's Wood - so Mal moved in with him. Mal writes of this time fondly, but complains of Paul's dog, Martha, fouling the beds.

Within a few months, Mal had moved his family - his second child, Julie, had been born in 1966 - from Liverpool to Sunbury-on-Thames, about equidistant from Paul's house and the homes of the other three in the Surrey stockbroker belt - another indication of how he'd let the band take over his life. Mal was also beginning to enjoy some of the more illicit aspects of the mid-1960s rock'n'roll lifestyle.

January 1, 1967: "Well, diary - hope it will be a great 1967. Have not slept... Friday night's recording session and journey to Liverpool. Late afternoon went over to the McCartney's in Wirral, and had dinner with them. Paul and Jane [Asher, McCartney's then girlfriend] had traveled up for the New Year - also Martha. Fan belt broke."

January 19 and 20, 1967: "Ended up smashed in the Bag O' Nails with Paul and Neil. quite a number of people attached themselves, oh that it would happen to me - freak out time baby for Mal.

"Eventually I spewed but this is because of an omlette I reckon. I was just nowhere, floating around. Slept till 5pm. Flowers arrived for George for his anniversary tomorrow. Made up yesterday with new number I'm counting on it and ringing alarm [he is referring to A Day in The Life, Sgt. Pepper's closing opus]. So George came back to flat for tea tonight, that is before we went home. He was in bedroom reading International Times, I was asleep on bed, very bad mannered. Left for home with Neil driving.. On M6, starter jammed. 10/- to free it. Hertz van still no comfort... I spent some time in the rest room."

Mal's diary describes the recording of the Sgt. Pepper album in some detail, referring to the song "Fixing a Hole" as "where the rain comes in". But there were soon signs that he is beginning to feel a little hard done by.

The rest of 1967 was as busy for Mal as it was for the Beatles: the overblown, complicated Sgt. Pepper was time-consuming. As soon as it was was completed, Mal flew with Paul to LA to see Jane Asher who was touring with the Old Vic company. The three took a trip to the Rockies and returned to LA by private jet. Mal took up the story: "We left Denver in Frank Sinatra's Lear Jet, which he very kindly loaned us. A beautiful job with dark black leather upholstery and, to our delight, a well stocked bar."

When they arrived, they went to Michelle and John Phillip's [of the Mamas and the Papas] house and Brian Wilson [of the Beach Boys] came round. Mal writes of joining in on guitar for a rendition of On Top of Old Smokey with Paul and Wilson. Mal, however, was not impressed by Wilson's avant-guarde tendencies; at the time he was putting together the Smile album. "Brian then put a dampener on the spontaneity of the whole affair by walking in with a tray of water-filled glasses, trying to arrange it into some sort of session." Mal wasn't keen on glass harmonicas - he would have preferred Elvis.

When they returned in April 1967, the Beatles began work on what was to become the ill-fated Magical Mystery Tour project. The band, with Paul taking an increasingly dominant role, was showing signs of stress. Mal wrote "I would get requests from the four of them to do six different things at one time and it was always a case of relying on instinct and experience in awarding priorities. They used to be right sods for the first few days until they realized that everything was going smoothly and they could get into the routine of recording...Then I would find time between numerous cups of tea and salad sandwiches and baked beans on toast to listen to the recording in the control room."

Once they'd completed the recording, Mal, Neil and their families were whisked off to Greece by the Beatles at George Harrison's expense. They spent a month under sunny skies on a wooden yacht in the Aegean. But their return. however, darker clouds were forming on the horizon. Before the summer was out, Epstein was dead after an overdose. Without his guiding hand, the Beatles plunged into the chaotic Magical Mystery Tour project. As ever, Mal was a crucial element, organizing the coach tour that formed the centerpiece of the film, recruiting actors and extras, then flying to Nice with Paul to film the Fool on the Hill sequence.

According to Mal, this trip, as did many, took place on an impulse; without luggage or papers. Paul sailed through immigration with no passport, but they were refused entry to the hotel restaurant because they didn't look the part. They headed off to a nightclub. "We had dinner in my room... The only money we had between us had been spent on clothes, on the understanding that money was to be forwarded from England by the Beatles office. After the first round of drinks... we arranged with the manager for us to get credit."

The next day, Mal and Paul returned to the club. "We took advantage of our credit standing, as money had still not arrived from England. News about Paul's visit to the club the previous night had spread, and the place was jammed. Now Paul, being a generous sort of person, had built up quite a bar bill, when the real manager of the club arrived demanding that we pay immediately. On explaining who Paul was and what happened, he answered, "You either pay the bill, or I call the police!" It certainly looked like we were getting thrown in jail. It was ironical, sitting in a club with a millionaire, unable to pay the bill." Eventually the hotel manager agreed to cover the money.

Paul and Mal returned to London, where Paul was to edit the film. But it was panned by the critics when televised that Christmas.

****

The year 1968 saw the genesis of Apple, the groups tour to Rishikesh in the Himalayas at the invitation of the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi - and increasing tensions.

By the time the band arrives in India, Mal is already there, having carried out a recce a few days earlier. Ringo demands a doctor as soon as he gets off the plane. From Mal's memoir from February: "'Mal, my arm is killing me, please take me to a doctor right away.' So off we go looking for one, our driver leaving [sic] us to a dead end in the middle of a field, soon to be filled with press cars as they blindly follow us; so we explain to them that it's only Ringo's innoculation giving him trouble. When we arrived at the hospital, I tried to get immediate treatment for him, to be told curtly by the Indian doctor, 'He is not a special case and will have to wait his turn', so off we go to pay a private doctor ten rupees for the priviledge of hearing him say it will be all right."

The Beatles, accompanied by an entourage that included Mia Farrow, Donovan and the Beach Boy, Mike Love, write half a dozen songs in India, most of which are to end up on the White Album they release later that year. Mal's diary comments favorably on the sense of Karma that seemed to have settled on them. "It is hard to believe that a week has already passed. I suppose the peace of mind and the serenity one achieves through meditation makes the time fly." He even enjoyed the food, unlike Ringo, who famously turned up with a case of baked beans.

But the tranquility does not last, "Suddenly... excitement.. Ringo wants to leave... Maureen can't stand the flies any longer." Mal himself spent a month in India, before returning to London to help the others with the White Album sessions.

Later in the year, Mal travels to New York with George. They go to visit Bob Dylan and the Band, who are rehearsing at Big Pink, the Band's upstate retreat.

November 28, 1968: "Up at 10.30 to Woodstock... To Bob [Dylan] for Thanksgiving. Meet Levon [Helm] of the band, he is drummer, plays great guitar. Around the table after turkey, cranberry sauce, etc... & also Pecan pie. Bob, George, Rich, Happy, Levon... around the guitars while many children play; Sarah [Dylan] great - turkey sandwich and beer. To Richard [Manuel] & Garth's [Hudson] home for farm sessions - home to bed."

At this point, Mal's 1968 diary comes to an end; it has been an action packed year with two hit singles and a sprawling double album - but the Beatles are no longer a cohesive unit.

In the midst of a miserably cold winter, the band and Mal set off for Twickenham studios, where they are to start work on the project that is to become Let It Be, a filmed record of the Beatles at work. Already there is discord, and in front of the cameras they begin to disintegrate; from Mal we also get the first murmurings of real discontent.

January 13, 1969: "Paul is really cutting down on the Apple staff members. I was elevated to office boy [Mal had briefly been made MD of Apple] and I feel very hurt and sad inside - only big boys don't cry. Why I should feel hurt and reason for writing this is ego... I thought I was different from other people in my relationship with the Beatles and being loved by them and treated so nice, I felt like one of the family. Seems I fetch and carry. I find it difficult to live on the £38 I take home each week and would love to be like their other friends who buy fantastic homes and have all the alterations done by them, and are still going to ask for a rise. I always tell myself - look, everybody wants to take from, be satisfied, try to give and you will receive. After all this time I have about £70 to my name, but was content and happy. Loving them as I do, nothing is too much trouble, because I want to serve them.

"Feel a bit better now - EGO?"

The Let it Be film is to feature the Beatles in what is to become their last public performance, on the rooftop of the Apple office in London's Saville Row. Squabbles put to one side, the band, accompanied by Billy Preston on keyboards, are clearly enjoying themselves. Mal is unusually perky too.

January 24, 1969: "Skiffling 'Maggie May'; Beatles really playing together. Atmosphere is lovely in the studio - everyone seems so much happier than of recent times."

January 27: "Today we had the engineer to look at the roof of No.3. 5lbs sq. in is all it will take weight wise. Needs scaffolding to make platform. Getting helicopter for shot of roof. Should get good shot of crowds in street, who knows, police might try to stop us. Asked Alistair [Taylor, Apple office manager] to get toasted sandwich machine."

January 29: "Show on the roof of Apple. Four policemen kept at bay for 40minutes while the show goes on."

With the Beatles in free fall, Mal busies himself with jobs for other Apple artists and fetching and carrying for individual Beatles. Throughout the 1960's he and Paul had an affinity, and in March 1969, Mall was one of just two witnesses at Paul's wedding to Linda Eastman in London. The same day, George Harrison's home is raided for drugs.

March 13: "Big drama, last night about 7:30pm Pattie rang the office from home for George to say '8or 10 policemen including Sergeant Pilcher had arrived with search warrants looking for cannabis'. George went home with Derek and lawyer, and was released on £200 bail each. "

Mal, meanwhile, has financial worries.

April 24: "Had to tell George - 'I'm broke'. Really miserable and down because i'm in the red, and the bills are coming in, poor old Lil suffers as i don't want to get a rise. Not really true don't want to ask for a rise, fellows are having a pretty tough time as it is."

The Beatles record their last album, Abbey Road, in the summer of that year. Mal's diaries note that four alternative titles were mooted before the band settled on a title that celebrated the home of EMI studios. "titles suggested: Four In The Bar; All Good Children Go To Heaven; Turn Ups; Inclinations." Mal helps with John's Instant Karma, but he is finding Paul distant.

The next year, 1970, sees the Beatles continuing with their solo projects. The band is no longer recording together.

January 27: "Seem to be losing Paul - really got the stick from him today."

February 4: "To bed at 4:30am to rise at 7:45 to help get the children dressed... Lil had a driving lesson at 8am, then driving test at 9am which she passed. Bed after a couple of hours. Feel a cold coming on again. Walk into office late afternoon to meet Ringo go to shake he says ' Give us a cuddle then' its worth a million pounds that is and feel really recharged. George & Steve bass & guitar. Nanette. Ringo Drums."

February 5: "Bed this morning late.Up at 1 to phone. Conversation with Paul, something like this: 'Malcolm Evans' 'Yeah Paul' 'I've got the EMI [Abbey Road studio] over this weekend - I would like you to pick up some gear from the house' 'great man, that's lovely. session at EMI?' 'Yes but I don't want any one there to make me tea, I have the family, wife and kids there.' "

Mal clearly took Paul's distance to heart. There was now no group to look after. Mal continued to work with John, Ringo and George on their solo efforts and with the small stable of Apple musicians he had helped to build up. But for him, the adventure was pretty much over. When the Beatles broke up, there was a very strong chance that he would to.

Mal remained an employee of Apple until 1974, when he moved to LA, ostensibly to work as a record producer. He left Lily and the children the same year, moving in with Fran Hughes, whom he had met at the Record Plant studios in Los Angeles. The split from Lily had depressed Mal, and it was clear that he continued to miss the family, long after he walked out on them. Neither his family, nor the Beatles, his second family, were now close. "The times I had with him were brilliant. He was an extraordinary person," says his son, Gary, "But from the moment he met the Beatles to the moment he died, he wanted to live two parallel lives. He would have lived six months in the States and six months here, if he'd been able to get away with it."

On the morning of January 5, 1976, exactly two years after Mal had walked out, Lily took a phone call from Neil Aspinall. He told her that Mal had been shot in LA. "I immediately thought he'd been shot in a bank," says Lily, "I had to wake up the kids and tell them. I didn't know he was so low. He must have been missing the kids, depressed."

Mal had been killed by an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department, who had been called to a disturbance at his home in LA after it had been reported that he had been brandishing a weapon, which may or may not have been an air rifle. Fran had called the police. Gary believes he was drinking heavily and may have been on cocaine at the time. "It was all part of the rock'n'roll, '70s lifestyle." Gary added that he thinks his father may have been behaving like that in the knowledge that even if he was unwilling to end his own life, the LA police would show no such hesitation.

George arranged for Mal's family to receive £5000 in his death; he had no pension and he had not kept up his life-assurance premiums. Lily and Gary have met Paul twice to discuss the ownership of some Beatles lyrics Mal had tidied up, which she wanted to sell. Paul appears to have reached generous out-of-court settlements with her. Over the years, the Mal Evans archive has dwindled as Lily has been forced to sell other parts of it piecemeal.

As she looks back on the 1960s, Lily regrets the amount of time Mal gave up for the Beatles, but has fond memories; she and the children adored the huge fireworks parties that Ringo organized at his homes in Weybridge and Ascot. For Gary, who was 14 when his father died, memories of the 1960s are bittersweet. "The Greek holiday was wonderful. there were good times interspersed among the 'Where is he's?'

"I'd go to school on the Monday, and the teacher would say, 'What did you do at the weekend?' I'd say, 'I went round to John Lennon's house'. I thought that was normal. Sometimes I found it all a bit much. I'd be picked up from school by my dad in John Lennon's psychedelic Rolls-Royce. He'd be wearing a cowboy hat, surrounded by kids. I'd think, 'I don't need this'."

Ultimately, Gary remains disappointed about the fact that the Beatles did not make proper provision for his father or his family. When Mal left, Lily had to return to work to pay the mortgage and keep the children going. "It was very tight," Gary recalls. "We were on free school meals. It's very galling when you look back at what my dad's imput into that band and we ended up like that." We asked Sir Paul McCartney to comment, but a spokesperson said he was "unavailable".

It's difficult to properly evaluate Mal's contribution to the Beatles, but for a long period he was regarded as indispensable. He was trusted, universally liked, and desperately loyal: his diaries give away no indiscretions, though he certainly would have been party to them. Even Lily acknowledges that, "he would have had a few flings." But none of that bothered her: she always seemed more concerned that he was "too nice for his own good" and that the band would treat him "like a dishcloth".

If he had followed her advise and remained a Post Office engineer in Mossley Hill, he would have missed out on Sgt. Pepper, the Beatles in India and his meetings with Elvis, his hero. And his passing, too, in the sprawling suburbs of Los Angeles, might also have turned out to be just a little less rock'n'roll.

****

EXCERTS FROM MAL'S DIARIES:

January 20, 1963: Mal drives the Beatles to London

Picked up George at about 10.45 then picked up John, Paul & Ringo... George bought me dinner at Whitchurch and took over the driving up to about 20 miles before the M1... My only wish was for better headlights on the van otherwise admirable to drive, and I could not have wished for better company. They [The Beatles] made me feel at home with them at once. After steady 70-75 miles down the M1, entered London via Finchley... The boys seemed to know their way and... took us to the door of EMI house. There we met Kenny Lynch, Jess Conrad & Carol Deene all nice people.

January 4, 1967: Recording Penny Lane

Traveled to London left about 11am. Lil's back acting up a little again. Recording "Penny Lane" but Paul and John still not satisfied so will do voices again tomorrow. Went to Bag O' Nails about 3.45 after session. Cyn, Terry and Stan. Jane came to studio in her car. Had fish and chips in studio. Joss sticks burning a plenty tonight, really do get to like the smell.

January 27, 1967: Sgt. Pepper

Started writing song with Paul upstairs in his room, he on piano. What can one say about today - ah yes! Four Tops concert at Albert Hall. Beatles get screams they get the clap. Off to Bag after gig. Did a lot more of "where the rain comes in". Hope people like it. Started Sergeant Pepper.

February 1, 1967:

"Sergeant Pepper" sounds good. Paul tells me that I will get royalties on the song - great news, now perhaps a new home.

February 2, 1967:

Recording voices on Captain [sic] Pepper. All six of us doing the chorus in the middle, worked until about midnight. Bag took Cynthia [Lennon]. Bed about 5.30pm after no sleep. Ugh! Cleaning lady Mrs. Turner. Cor!!! Had to go to doctor in 6 George Street. Bought Ringo some undies for his visit to the Doctor.

March 30, 1967:

Played cow bell on Ringo's number [With a Little Help From My Friends]. Paul asked after who played that great cow bell...

February 17, 1968: In India and recording The White Album

The press really tried kicking down the gates into the Ashram - the Indian people on the Ashram called me halfway through, but as soon as an Indian reporter told me "no bloody foreigner is going to stop me in my own country" I cooled it.

February 23, 1968:

The Beatles all met Maharishi on his cottage roof... off to the beach after lunch, well its not really the beach but the bank of the Ganges... Jane still not well although the other minor complaints have been 'faith healed', and Ringo had a dead rat in drawer.

July 9, 1968:

Oobledee [Ob La Di, Ob La Da] goes well and Eric Clapton plays [sic] a visit... Off to pub for toasted cheese sarnies, later Paul went to the pub with George, Neil and Pete for a pint. John and George guitars - Ringo drums for new version of 'Revolution'. Put up slide for kids and filmed Julie on it.

September 13, 1968:

Heard today that the police arrived at EMI to bust us after we had left. On further enquiries this did not appear to have happened - wouldn't matter anyway, what would they find?

March 12, 1969: Paul and Linda's Wedding

Paul and Linda got married this morning at Marylebone registry office, due to at 9.45 but Mike's train from Birmingham was delayed... When Peter Brown and myself passed the registry office at about 9.15 there were only a few photographers and ardent fans standing in the rain, but when we left at 11.30am or perhaps it was 11.15am we were mobbed by a crowd of about 1000. Heather [Linda's daughter] was carried out by a policeman and Ray of the hire car company... Back at home, they did a couple of TVs and then went to the local church to be "BLESSED". Off to the Ritz Piccadilly for a wedding lunch, where we were joined by Neil and Sue. Escargot for moi; TV interview in the Ritz and deliver Paul and Linda McCartney to home and feet up by the fire.

August 8, 1969 (Accompanied by drawing of Abbey Road album cover photo)

Up at 8.30am, arriving at 9.45am. Ringo first at 10.15 with the others arriving just after eleven. Policeman gets quite excited at a few people, and Ian missed the picture. George, (??) and I go to Regents Park Zoo and meditate in the sun. To Krishna temple for lunch and studio for 3pm. Yoko, John and Ringo went to Paul and Linda's for lunch. It was very nice.

[longforyesterday]

Around midday on April 1 [1974], Paul and Linda returned to the beach house that had hosted the previous night’s revelries with their children, Heather, Mary and Stella. John was still in bed when McCartney arrived, and his new lifestyle seemed to cause a bemused Paul some slight alarm. “He was a teenager again,” McCartney reflected. “He was just being his old Liverpool self, just a wild, wild boy. Linda and I had kids so we’d be up early. We wouldn’t be just lying in bed until three in the afternoon, which is what John was doing. It was everything he’d always wanted to do in Liverpool…” Once Lennon had eventually risen, McCartney recalled taking John into one of the rooms at the back of the beach house. The two men exchanged pleasantries, and were happy to see each other. Paul found John in a mellow mood due to his docile routine. Having surfaced from his noonday slumber, Lennon eventually joined them at the poolside, where McCartney was enjoying the company of familiar faces. Keith Moon complimented him on his drumming work on Band On The Run following the last-minute departure of Denny Seiwell in September. Nilsson attempted to entice McCartney into sampling some angel dust, who politely (and wisely) declining his offer. “He seemed to understand,” Paul recalled. “But that’s how it was there.” Meanwhile, Moon assistant Peter ‘Dougal’ Butler and Pang took photos of Ringo and Paul relaxing together. McCartney positioned himself at the piano for most of the afternoon, playing a medley of Beatles songs and some standards. Ringo seated himself besides McCartney, enjoying the moment and offering vocal support. Pang also took a photo of Lennon and Starr together, but no photo has surfaced of all three former Beatles together. Knowing the beneficial and pleasurable effect it would have on John, Pang had regularly encouraged him to hook up with Paul and Ringo. “The four guys were brothers. Whenever they would meet, it was like no time had gone by.”

Richard White, Come Together – Lennon and McCartney In The Seventies

[loveactionsspeaklouder]

lucky one

Warning: the following contains smut.

You couldn’t help but scream at the TV, you were so angry with Klopp. You knew your boyfriend would come home in a bad mood. He hadn’t been playing that well during the last few games and he was now getting substituted, you could only imagine how angry he was.

You had been dating Trent for four years, you had been there for him through all the highs and lows of his career. You remembered consoling him after he lost the Champions League final but the year later, you spent the entire night partying when he won it. You remembered how happy he was, he couldn’t stop smiling. His smile was your favourite feature on him.

The game had finished with Liverpool losing. You sighed as you said goodnight to Trent’s family, you decided to go wait in your shared room for him to return home. You knew it would be a long trip home, so you decided to take a quick nap, setting yourself a couple of alarms. You messaged your boyfriend asking him to tell you when he was close to home, he replied short answers, that showed the mood he was in.

You opened your eyes to the sound of your ringtone, you groaned as you rolled over checking your messages. You smiled seeing a text from Trent, letting you know he was on his way back to the house. You heard the downstairs door open, butterflies started to form in your stomach. You couldn’t wait to see your man.

He walked through your bedroom door, chucking his bag on the floor. He didn’t look you in the eyes, you could see how annoyed he was. Before he could speak, you raced over and captured his lips into a passionate kiss. He started deepening the kiss, you allowed him further access. You wanted him, you needed him. You pulled his top over his head, he reconnected your lips. You slid your hands down to remove his pants, he stopped and grabbed your hands, his eyes were dark and full of lust.

“I’ve missed you,” he exhaled.

He let your hands go and you resumed. You quickly removed his pants and threw them off, he was now wearing only his boxers. You turned around and pushed him onto the bed, you laid on top of him, you still had his baggy t-shirt on.

“I love when you wear my clothes,” he breathed.

You moved your lips to his bare neck, holding his body. His hands moved to your back and began removing your top. You stood up, he watched you as you removed your top, he licked his lips. Leaving small kisses along his bare skin, you traced your hands up Trent’s legs. You placed them on his hips where his boxers were and swiftly removed them.

“Let me cheer you up,” you smirked.

He collapsed on the bed and groaned in satisfaction. He put his hand on your head, he kept it there for about fifteen minutes, his fingers were locked in your hair. You loved pleasuring your man. You loved when he called your name, you loved his loud moans, you loved him. He let out a sigh when you finished.

“Now it’s my turn,” Trent exhaled.

He was completely naked in front of you, his cheeks were flushed red. He picked you up and threw you back on the bed. He traced sloppy kisses across your neck, along your chest. He stopped at your bare nipples, spending extra time there as he knew you loved the feeling. He kissed you along your body until he stopped at your hips, he removed your underwear with both hands. He put his head between your legs, you moved your hands around his hair. You called out his name as you reached your high.

“I want you,” you moaned.

He looked at you and connected your lips again, this time it was fast and sloppy. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, you were now straddling him. You lowered yourself onto him, you started to move in sync with each other, you kissed every part of his face. He kept his lips on your neck, you both groaned in pleasure. You moaned each other’s names as you rocked together. You picked up the pace, you wanted to feel every inch of him. You moved faster to reach your high, you both come undone in front of each other.

You rested your head on his chest. His heart was beating fast. He put his finger on your chin and moved your head so it was now facing him, he planted a soft kiss to your lips, then your nose and finally your forehead. You cuddled up closer to him, you didn’t want this feeling to end.

As long as you were on this planet, you promised to always love Trent. You promised to cheer him up when he had a bad game. You loved him with all your heart, you would always love him. He thought he was lucky to love you, you knew that you were the lucky one.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Finding my way back

Summary: Nearly a decade after you and John break up you manage to find your way back to him.

A/N: Hello my dears! So I wrote this for Beatle and Queen secret santa exchange! Apologies it’s not heavily Christmas/holiday themed; it does take place during winter so I hope that counts for something. I hope you enjoy your fic as much as i enjoyed writing it @sweetrosetta-martin​! I wrote this after I heard the song Green Papaya by Lianne La Havas which makes me feel some type of way. Also shout out to @casafrass​ and @moodysunflowergirl​ for putting this together! Thank you for all your hard work and organization for this! 

Pairing: John Lennon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Okay friends, we’ve got a bit of everything in here! It’s got some mild illusions to smut and steamy smooches, some angst, some fluff, pinning, longing, break ups, cigarettes, alcohol (I think), swearing, we’ve got Teddy boy!John and 70s!John. But no actual smut. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Your heart ached in your chest as you sat in front of John, “What do you mean we can’t see each other anymore?” Your voice cracked with emotion.

John watched your watery eyes from behind his glasses and let out a deep sigh, “I’m going to be touring a lot and Brian wants us to move to London, so I just…” His own voice cracked with emotion, “So I just don’t think we should keep seeing each other.” He looked away unable to maintain eye contact with you.

“But we survived Germany!” You protested back, “It will be okay, I can visit you when you have shows nearby,” You wanted this to work, being with John felt like home. You sniffed, “You know like wait backstage with flowers and everything.” You said and began to rub your stinging eyes.

You were right, the two of you had survived Germany, but it was only because it lasted a few short months and your relationship was open out of respect for the two of you; John didn’t know how long this Beatles thing was going to last and from the looks of it, it was going to last quite a while. John rubbed the tears from behind his glasses, smudging his finger along the lenses and clouding the vision of your perfect face. He squeezed your hand tightly in his own, “It’ll be fine I promise,” He said pausing to kiss your knuckles, “I love you [Y/N] I really do, and if it’s meant to be we will be together again.” He gave you one last chaste kiss; your faces were wet from tear and it was sad and short lived. You embraced him tightly inhaling the scent of cigarettes, mint gun, and a smell that was so distinctly John before finally letting him go to part ways.

The two of you exchanged letters for the first few months of his first tour, but at this point it has been so long that you didn’t remember who stopped writing who and honestly, why did it matter? John was constantly an aching thought in the back of your mind, and you had constant reminders of him from posters to news articles, to full size cardboard cut outs that sat in record stores. It seemed everywhere you turned you saw him which only increased the yearning.

It took several months but you finally found yourself back in a routine that didn’t include John, it was almost like when he went to Germany except this time he wasn’t coming back for good. You finished up school, found a job working in marketing, and had several shitty boyfriends before you found yourself in New York city working in the marketing division of a fashion brand and met Noah. He was nice, but he wasn’t John.

He didn’t smoke cigarettes, or wear glasses, and couldn’t understand art. But he was here, and the sex was pretty okay.

Noah was nice and he made you a pot of coffee every morning he slept over and didn’t try to pry too far into your personal life. All around you didn’t have any qualms with him; it just didn’t feel complete.

The scent of freshly roasted coffee drifted through your home as you woke up with your alarm clock blaring in your ears. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and rolled out of bed. Noah was busying himself in the kitchen, you should just ask him to move in at this point. “Did you get the paper?” You asked sitting down at the table.

“On the counter, love.” He answered before grabbing it and sliding it across the table towards you. Much to your surprise in big bold letters on the front page “PAUL SPLITS THE BEATLES” were plastered across it. Naturally a picture of the doe-eyed man you once called a friend accompanied it as well as a smaller picture of the group.

“Fucking Christ.” You mumbled to yourself and turned the page, hoping to find something else to read, some couple getting married or some advice column, but no, your eyes continued to draw themselves back to the fab four and specifically John. He looked wildly different now; long hair, glasses, eccentric wardrobe all made him look almost unfamiliar

You finally gave in and read the article; from what you observed in the news and on television tensions were high between the four and it seemed as though fame had gotten the best of them, “Crazy, right?” Noah asked handing you a cup of coffee, “Who would have thought? It looked like they were going to be together forever. But get your riches and split I guess, yeah?”

A sour feeling filled your belly, John and Paul cared more about the Beatles than Noah could ever know. The idea of get rich and dip was ridiculous, wasn’t it? “I don’t think that is the case.” You mumbled before abruptly getting up to get ready for work, forgetting your morning coffee.

It had been almost a decade since you had last seen John, and a lot could have changed. He was no longer the tough teddy boy you had grown to love. His hair had grown out and he was with Yoko Ono now, from the looks of if they were essentially attached at the hip. A part of you hoped you and Noah would never achieve that level of need in your relationship.

Unfortunately, as months passed there seemed to be no other way to progress your and Noah’s relationship and one day he slept over and never left. You no longer had your own space to escape to or much alone time aside from when Noah came home an hour after you from work. You felt throttled and frankly didn’t like it, nor did you like Noah much anymore. It seemed like the right step though, after three years of dating; you could tell Noah craved monogamy.  

Your day at work was long and exhausting. All you could think of was your hour of peace and quiet before Noah came home and talked about his boring life at work. If you had to use a color to describe your life it would be grey, dull, boring, no vibrancy or excitement.

New York was full of bright vibrant colors and never slept; it was much livelier that than the cloudy northern United Kingdom city you once called home, but in the small apartment that you lived in there was constant monotony. Waking up, making coffee, going to work, coming home, reading and making dinner, going to sleep; only to repeat that for five days in a row and then sit around the house during the weekend, or leave to get groceries if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, Noah’s accountant friends would come over and talk your ear off about their corporate work life you just couldn’t wrap your head around.

Your mind was swimming with thoughts, mostly about your stagnant life as you navigated your way off the subway once you reached your stop and walked off. It was loud and cramped as everyone flooded off; you kept your head low and pushed your way through the crowd. A firm, but boney shoulder pushed into you causing your thoughts to flee and your brows furrowed as you looked up, “Watch it, asshole.” You mumbled under your breath and looked up before you froze.

Your eyes locked with a pair of eyes that were all too familiar and all the breath in your body seemed to leave, “[Y/N]?” John asked you, seemingly just as shocked as you were.

Despite being in the subway station the world around you stopped. A few sputtering words came out to form an incoherent sentence as you were consumed with shock. Your body became ridged and you sharply exhaled before turning and continuing your short jaunt home.

That night you laid on your side and your mind was consumed with so many thoughts, mostly John if you were being honest. You’d thought you had long since blocked the ghost from your memory, but it appeared that seeing him caused a number of memories to rouse from the depths of your consciousness. You hated it. John Lennon was once again living in your head rent free.

Noah gripped your side and kissed along your shoulders and neck while his hand rubbed your hips and slowly began to wander upwards towards your breasts. The sudden touch caused you to jump, “Not tonight,” You mumbled trying to sound tired.

Noah let out a soft sigh before giving your shoulder one last kiss, “Sorry, you had a long day, love.” He said pulling you close against him and resting his head on your shoulder. As you pretended to sleep you laid in your bed and stared at the wall of darkness in your room.

When the hell did John come to New York?

Did he live nearby?

Was Yoko with him?

Questions swirled around in your mind; questions that would not get answered unless you actively sought out an answer.

As sleep consumed you, you dreamt of John.

The Reeperbahn had a smell you would never forget. You didn’t know cities could have distinct smells until you traveled to Germany to visit John for the first time since he had left Liverpool. It was a combination of pollution, beer, and a smell you had hoped to never figure out what caused it. From his letters this place seemed larger than life, and when you took your first steps off the train you saw it was.

John tackled you with a warm hug, he smelled like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, “You stink.” You grinned and laughed as he kissed your face all over.

“Our options are kind of limited, love.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around your waist keeping you close to him as the two of you walked down the busy street.

He took you to a restaurant, you honestly hadn’t expected him to take you on a date especially with where you were and how little money he had. “Come on, I’ve got a show in two hours,” He grinned, excited to have you watch him play.

“And then we met this group of Germans, they’ll be at the show tonight. I know you’ll love them.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, “Stu is going with one of them, Astrid. She’s great too, her ma lets us shower at her place and makes us dinner sometimes.” You soaked in all the stories John had to share.

His life seemed so exciting here in Germany, but you could see how exhausted he was beginning to get, “You’ve got to hear how we sound now, Pete’s still shit, but Paul, George and I are really getting better.” He shifted in his seat and poked at his food, “I don’t know if Stu is going to stick with us much longer though; he’s been talking about going back to art school.”

That night you and John slept cramped together in his little bunk bed in the back room. You woke up to him rubbing your arm with the tips of his calloused fingers and he kissed your shoulder.

Rolling over you captured his lips in a soft kiss, he tasted of beer and cigarettes and he clung to you, holding you so close it almost hurt. Breaking the kiss, he began to pepper soft kisses along your jaw and neck, “I love you so much,” He said between heavy breaths.

“I love you too John.” You responded letting out a soft whimper as his fingers began to rub you through the cloth short wore to sleep.

With a gasp you shot up in bed, coated in a layer of sweat and looked around the still dark room, wide eyed. Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes as he woke up, “What’s wrong, hun?” He asked.

You gained control of your breathing once more and laid back down, still uncomfortably sweaty; “Nothing, just a nightmare.” You answered and swallowed thickly.

---

For weeks, John plagued your mind and you were starting to convince yourself that you hadn’t truly seen him and that you were just going crazy. Your sleep was becoming more and more restless as time went on. It got so noticeable that even Noah questioned it.

“Take some time off, hun, you work too much.” He said.

So that was what you did. You finally had a week off after what felt like ages.

It was nice, but you were barely half a day into your vacation, and you began to feel restless. What could you possibly do to fill your time?

Your mind began to wander and drift off to thoughts of John; a wave of nausea immediately washed over you. “I need to leave.” You abruptly said and grabbed your purse and house keys before leaving your flat.

You soon found yourself at Central Park. Despite it being autumn, the weather was nice, the kind of nice where you look outside, and it seems warmer than it is. The breeze was soft but brisk you walked through the park enjoying the breath of fresh air. As you walked through the running paths you admired the changing leaves and the crunching sound they made under your feet.

You eyed a bench that overlooked The Lake, so cleverly named, and brushed the fallen leaves that covered it before you sat down. For once you felt like your mind was free from worry and the anxieties that had been consuming you the last several weeks.

That was until you got up and saw a familiar figure walking down the path that would directly cause yours. A shot of adrenaline shot through you and your heart began to race. It was as though your fight or flight responses had kicked in and they were telling you to get the fuck out of there. You frantically looked around and it felt like a lose-lose situation with whatever option you chose. So, you stayed; how bad was it going to be? Maybe he wouldn’t even notice?

John walked past your little out cove and glanced at you and then looked again, “Fucking hell.” He mumbled stopping in his tracks.

The two of you stood frozen, staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime before John finally broke the silence, “I thought I saw you at the subway station.” He said bluntly, his familiar voice causing a warm feeling to erupt in your belly and spread to the tips of your fingers.

You opened your mouth and closed it, trying to think of something to say, “You did.” Was what you finally spoke.

“Right,” He sighed, looking down in defeat.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets and shifted the weight on your feet, “Do you want to sit?” You asked abruptly.

John looked at you through his round lenses and nodded, “Sure, I could sit for a while.” He answered.

The two of you sat across from each other on your respective benches, “So, how long have you lived here for?” John asked watching you nervously pick at your fingers.

You looked up from your hands, “About 6 years now.” You leaned back, now feeling confident enough to study his features. His face was thinner, age lines had begun to map themselves out on his face, and his hair was messily layered and framed the sides of his face nicely. He was still as handsome as ever, “How long have you lived here for?”

John cleared his throat and pulled out his cigarettes, placing one in his mouth, “About two years now,” the conversation was weird, like the two of you didn’t know what to talk about. You watched as John’s long fingers light his cigarette, the spicy smell filling the space between the two of you and the smoke delicately curling up towards the sky, “So do you work near by or something?” He asked casually crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back of the bench.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t I just needed to get out of the house.” You said, staring at the reason you felt urged to leave your home in the first place, “I only live about six blocks away. It’s a nice walk.” You added, your stomach suddenly feeling sour as you remembered Noah.

John hummed, inhaling deeply on the cigarette the ember burning a bright red before dimming ever so slightly, “Do you work at all?” His tone came off ruder than expected, but you knew he didn’t intend for it to.

“Marketing.” You answered simply. Your brain swam with question you had for your former lover, “Do you live nearby?” You asked returning the question back to him.

John nodded behind him, “The Dakotas.” He mimicked your shortness. You looked and could see the large building peaking out from the tops of the trees.

You hummed, “Must be nice.” You said flashing him a closed mouth smile.

“It is.” He added and stood up, taking one last deep inhale before stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette in the snow and putting it in his pocket, “You look good, you know.” He said, his eyes studying your seated form before settling on your face.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious and very aware of your existence you crossed pulled your winter coat tighter around you, “So do you John.” You responded, “You’ll have to show me your place sometime.” You boldly suggested.

John flashed you a crooked smile before fishing around in his pocket, “Call me and I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule.” He said before handing you a business card. Of course, he had business cards.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you took the thick and expensive paper and pocketed it, “I’ll have my people call your people.” You allowed a smile to break your nervous features.

That night your mind saw no peace. You sat in the bathroom staring at the business card in your hand. It was nearly 3 am and the delicate gold letters reflected in the shitty florescent lights that made your eyes ache as you repeatedly read the phone number and name.

The rest of your vacation it seemed as though you were not going to get the mental break you so desperately craved. You watched as Noah left for work and felt a pang of guilt rising in your chest; a pice of you felt greedy for wanting to see John again. So, you figured it would be best to tuck it away in the back of your mind to the place where your other thoughts of John lived and put the card away in a shoe box and tried to forget.

---

Forgetting about your interaction with John seemed to work well, that is until you and Noah broke up.

He stood in the doorway with the boxes of his things. You could tell he didn’t feel great, and neither did you. But a piece of you felt thankful that he was finally moving out. After seeing John your body craved the spontaneity that he used to give you, and the spontaneity that Noah had lacked.

Once the last of his things were moved from your apartment you felt as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt good, like a breath of fresh air. You busied yourself by rearranging your home and filling the empty spaces that Noah left after he and his belongings vacated your space.

As you moved your shoe boxes and rearranged your closet a business card slipped from the tear in one of them. It was the one that John had given you only a few months ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the intricate gold letters you familiarized yourself with that night that seemed so long ago. You looked at the clock, it was only 4 PM and you had hoped he wasn’t busy.

You curled up on your couch and held the phone receiver against your ear listening to it ring as you absentmindedly played with the stiff card in your hand.

“Hello?” You instantly recognized John’s voice.

“John?” You responded back, “It’s, um, it’s [Y/N]” You felt a surge of nerves pulse through you.

“You know, I expected you to call sooner.” John skipped the formal greetings.

You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose nerves got the best of me.” It wasn’t a whole truth, but a half truth, “Do you think you’d be interested in showing me your place sometime?” you asked remembering back to the conversation the two of you had several months prior.

John hummed and you could hear the soft rustle of paper in the background before he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I suppose I could fit you in. Did you want to stay for dinner?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, “Dinner?” You question out loud and let out a puff of air, “Yeah, I suppose I could.”

“Right, so 6 o’clock sound good?” John asked, “I can send a car for you.”

“A car?” You asked, not accustom to the luxuries of being a Beatle, “I can walk it’ll be fine.”

John let out a sigh, “It’s freezing outside and nearly pitch black. You aren’t walking.” He said firmly.

“Fine.” You answered in defeat and gave him your address to send the car.

“Right, be ready by 5:30.” He said  

“Shit, okay.” You said before bidding him farewell and scrambling to get ready. The sleek black car arrived and drove you to the Dakotas. It was nice, far nicer than any building you had ever been in before. The driver walked you up to John’s apartment and let you in.

The room was decorated in a hodgepodge of John’s interests, from music to art to antiques; with everything tastefully on display. John walked out, dressed casually in a shirt, jeans, and no shoes and drank in your figure as you stripped off your jacket. You shifted nervously under his intense gaze, “So, you wanted a tour, yeah?” John asked.

You nodded and watched as he crossed his arms over his chest, admiring how his biceps flexed and bulged when his hands rested in position, “Yeah, a tour.” You said secretly hoping this would amount to much more than a tour.

John stretched his arms out, “Well welcome to my humble home.” He greeted in a grandiose manor.

Humble, right.

John’s home was more extravagant than you could have imagined. It was much better than the apartment he lived in with Stu or the back room they had in Hamburg and even better than when he lived with Mimi. He had several cats that roamed around his home; it made you smile and remember the time he brought a stray home and convinced Mimi to keep him. It seemed as though old habits died hard when it came to John.

The two of you made your way back to his living room and he sat down on his couch, “Come on, sit.” He said patting the spot next to him.

“Oh,” You abruptly said, not noticing you had been standing in the middle of the room studying the various things on the wall, “Right.” You quickly sat on the couch uncomfortably stiff, “So… dinner?” You asked.

John nodded his head, not having forgotten the food and pulled out a box of take out menus, “Do you want to order something, I haven’t gotten much for groceries this week.” He admitted sheepishly.

You rifled through the various menus in his collection, “So,” You started, “Where is Yoko?” You asked honestly wondering where his other half was.

“We’re separated right now.” He said sounding uncomfortable.

You glanced over at John and noted his somber expression, this was obviously a topic he didn’t want to talk about. “Sorry to pry.” You said before sliding him the menu of one of your favorite Chinese restaurants in the area.

“It’s a valid question.” He stated, now intently focused on the menu, “What about you?” He asked, peaking up to glance at you before quickly looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, your love life and what not.” He followed up quickly.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Oh, well my ex just moved out today.”

John arched one of his thick brows, “Hm,” He grunted, “Nice lad?” He questioned.

You shrugged, “Yeah, I suppose. Just boring.” You answered thinking back to the stale and stagnant version of your life that was your reality only a week ago.

John watched you frown in distain before he got up to place your orders, “What did you want again?” He asked.

“The number 23 dinner special with an eggroll.” You had your order memorized.

As John placed the order on his telephone, you listened to the sound of his muffled voice and leaned back on the couch. It was interesting how despite not seeing each other for nearly a decade, you still found your way back to him. One of his cats climbed their way on your lap and purred as you scratched behind its ears.

“She likes you.” John said as he walked back into the room, “Food should be here in 45 minutes.” He said plopping back down. The black cat nuzzled its head into your head and let out a soft meow.

“What’s her name?” You asked enjoying the attention your newfound friend was giving you.

“Salt.” He said, a smile cracking his features.

“Salt?” You asked letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Her sister, Pepper is somewhere around here.” He said reaching over and petting Salt, scratching her behind the ears.

Your 45 minutes with John was spent chatting and catching up, he talked about Mimi and told you that she asked about you often and he never knew how to respond, and you talked to him about how you finished college and began your marketing job.

It was interesting how the two of you were able to smooth over the awkwardness of your conversation in just a few short hours, unlike your previous run ins. The familiar warm feeling you would get every time you’d talk to him quickly returned. When your food arrived the doorman from the front of the building brought it up and the two of you laid out your spread on the coffee table.

John walked over to a shelf of movies and pulled one out. He turned towards you, flashing you the box. It didn’t surprise you when he showed you Clockwork Orange. It was a very John movie, “Want to watch it?” He asked smiling softly.

You nodded your head, “Pop it in.” You said waving your hand towards his television.

The movie played in the background as the two of you continued to talk and eat your takeaway, “How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m fine, how are you?” He responded a confused expression plastered on his face.

You shook your head, “No, John I really mean it; how are you?” You said giving him a sympathetic expression.

Putting his chopsticks down, John sighed, “I don’t know.” He pursed his lips deep in thought, “I mean I suppose I’ve been better.” He answered honestly, “I mean, my wife left me, my friends I’ve known for the last two decades don’t really want much to do with me.” John shrugged his should and looked away from you.

You nodded your head reaching over and grabbing his hand, rubbing it with your thumb before you patted it lightly and pulled it away. John chased your hand with his own and laced his fingers with yours. The rough underside of his palm brushed against your soft ones. The contrasting touch made you shiver, “I missed you.” He said and squeezed your hand.

John brought your hand to the side of his face and pressed your palm to his cheek, leaning into the warmth of your hand, “I missed you too.” You said as you thumb stroked his cheek bone. He turned his face and kissed your skin.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and the feeling of John’s lips burned into your palm. You watched him, his eyes closed and a calm expression taking over his tense body. Slowly you slid closer to him, closing what little space was between the two of you, “John,” You said breaking the soft silence that had settled between the two of you. He hummed and looked up at you urging you to continue, “You know what you told me when we broke up?”

John looked down, you could tell that the topic hurt him as much as it hurt you, “If it’s meant to be, we’ll find each other.” He said softly now looking at your fingers as he played with them.

In this moment he just looked like John, you’re John you had last seen nearly a decade ago. You pulled your fingers away from him and cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. Hesitantly you moved closer to him, feeling the warmth of John’s body radiating off him. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as your noses touched, lightly brushing against each other.

A soft whimper manifested itself in the back of your throat and trickled out when you felt John press his lips against yours. He pulled your close against his chest and held you against him tightly craving your warmth and body. Your mouths moved with a familiar synchronicity, so familiar it caused your stomach to ache as you frantically clung to John. Your hand managed to fall from his face and tangle itself in his shirt as you tried to pull him closer.

The way your nose bumped against his glasses reminded you of when you were 18 and sneaking into Mimi’s house, giggling as he told you to quiet down while the two of you kissed. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

John pulled away and left open mouth kisses on your chin and jaw and finally on your kiss. He immediately went to his favorite spot placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on it. You gasped at the feeling and craned your neck urging him for more.

Which he gladly gave you, pulling more sweet sounds from your mouth. He pulled back and studied your face through hooded eyes. John’s hand came up and he stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand. His touch was light and the back of his hand soft. You let out a sigh and leaned into his touch before looking back at him.

You laid back and pulled John against your chest. He responded by wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head into you, “I’m sorry for what’s happened John,” You said and admired the weight of his body against yours.

John rubbed his face into your chest and didn’t look at you, “Stay the night, please.” He pleaded with you.

You rubbed his back as he clung to you, your heart ached hearing the loneliness in his voice, “Of course.” You said and kissed the top of his hair. John hummed with content feeling your fingers tracing patterns against his back.

The following morning you woke up next to John, his arm firmly wrapped around you and hair buried in the back of your neck. You turned around and wrapped your free arm him while your other remained pinned on your side. John let out a soft sigh and pulled you close against his chest and kissed the top of your head. You’d forgotten how much you missed and craved affection. You moved to leave, and John pulled you back, “Don’t leave me,” He said softly.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You said smiling and turning towards John.

He let out a playful groan, “Fine.” He said rolling over and sprawling out on his bed like a starfish.

When you returned John was still in the same position, you’d left him in. As you crawled back into the bed John’s arms slithered around you like a snake and pulled you into his chest. You inhaled deeply, missing his smell and smiled against the thin shirt he wore to bed.

In just a short amount of time the life that had once felt so grey and strange was now beginning to once again feel like home.

[mando-lore]

The Terror of London: the story of Spring-Heeled Jack

Certainly Strange: A Podcast About The Unexplainable, episode 6

Listen on: YouTube  Spotify  Castbox

The Victorian era was a time of shadows and superstitions. In every corner of London’s dark streets lived a mystery or a monster. One of the most popular and certainly strange urban legends of this time is the story of the leaping devil, Spring-Heeled Jack.

In October, 1837, a young servant girl named Mary Stevens, is walking through Clapham Common to the house that she works at. Suddenly, a figure jumps from one of the shadows, gripping her tightly. The figure starts to kiss her face and tries to rip off her clothes. Mary cries out in alarm, and the figure vanishes. Of course, this just seems like a case where a man tried to molest the young woman. And it could have been exactly that, had the strange figure not ripped at Mary’s clothes with claws instead of hands. Claws, she said, that were “cold and clammy as those of a corpse.”

Mary Stevens was not the first one to see this strange clawed creature jump from the shadows. In September 1837, one month before the attack on Mary Stevens, a man saw a man with horns and red glowing eyes leap over the cemetery fence.

This strange devil-like man did not wait much longer to strike again after attacking Mary Stevens. The very next day, it was reported that a strange figure had jumped out in front of a traveling coach, causing the coachman to lose control and crash. Witnesses reported that the figure escaped by jumping over wall that was nearly 9 feet tall, whilst laughing uncontrollably.

This was also the very first time the police got involved. At the scene of the crime they found a pair of very deep tracks in the mud that could only have been made by jumping from a great height. The tracks also showed that there was some gadgetry on the shoes, and speculated that it might be “some sort of compressed springs”.

And this is how the strange devil-like figure got the name of Spring Heeled Jack.

It was January, 1838. Polly Adams, who worked as a barmaid, was walking across Blackheath in south London when she was suddenly attacked. She was discovered half-naked lying in the gutter. When she came to, she is reported saying that she had been attacked by a man who had ripped open her blouse and had grabbed her breasts with claws that were sharp and cold as a corpse, eventually cutting open her belly.

On January 9th, the Lord Mayor of London, Sir John Cowan, received an anonymous complaint of another servant girl who was attacked by Spring Heeled Jack. Because of this incident, several other people came forward about similar incidents in the Kensington and Hammersmith area, all involving servant girls.

This was the perfect story for the press, and Spring Heeled Jack began to get a lot of publicity. With the increase of publicity, there was also an increase of reports from people who had seen or were attacked by the now famous ‘terror of London’. The police took these reports very seriously, and even the Duke of Wellington, the one who had defeated Napoleon, went out armed on horseback to hunt for the monster that haunted London.

This did not stop Spring Heeled Jack, however, from striking again.

There came a knocking on her door. The police, he claimed. He had found spring heeled jack in an alley outside her home. Jane Alsop opened the door. When she accompanied the policeman to the alleyway, she noticed that he was not wearing a police uniform, but instead a long black cape. She got suspicious, but it was already to late. The cloaked man attacked her, trying to undress her whilst, according to her, spitting blue flames out of his mouth.

Jane Alsop described her attacker later to London magistrates: ”He was wearing a kind of helmet and a tight fitting white costume like an oilskin and he vomited blue and white flames!”

Nine days later, the same fate befell Lucy Scales. Walking home from having visited her brother, she was attacked by a man in the same outfit as Alsop had described. And again, he spitted blue flames out of his mouth, blinding her and even causing a seizure.

Then, after terrorizing London for many months, Spring Heeled Jack disappeared.

There were no more reports of people being attacked by Spring Heeled Jack. In 1855 he was seen in Old Hill, far from London, leaping from the roof of an inn to another roof across the street. Somewhere in the 1880’s, a man and a young girl reported that they had seen Jack with glowing eyes, who had bid them a good evening.

Spring Heeled Jack was also seen in 1872, when he landed amidst a group of soldiers. One of the soldiers claimed to have shot at him, but the bullet reflected off of him with a hollow, metallic sound.

Spring-Heeled Jack was last spotted in 1904, 67 years after he had first appeared out of the shadows, jumping over a building in William Henry Street in Liverpool. And, seemingly, disappearing into the shadows once again.

Although frightening and violent, Spring Heeled Jack never mortally wounded any of the women he attacked. This did not stop locals from suspecting him of murder. In 1845, a 13-year old prostitute called Maria Davis was pushed off a bridge into an open sewer, where she drowned. Although the coroner recorded Maria’s death as ‘Death by Misadventure’, and though an eyewitness had seen that it had not been Jack who pushed her but instead one of her clients, locals still claimed that Spring Heeled Jack was the true murderer of this child.

Many attacks on women were blamed on Spring Heeled Jack. When there came a report that a woman had been murdered in Whitechapel in 1888, with her clothes ripped off her, people automatically assumed it had been good old Spring Heeled Jack, especially since the culprit had seemingly disappeared into the night without being spotted by police.

Spring Heeled Jack immediately became suspect number one in the other murders that followed. So much so, that the killer himself wrote a letter t the Metropolitan police signed Spring Heel Jack: The Whitechapel Murderer. Later, the killer shortened it simply to Jack. Perhaps better known as the real terror of London. Jack the Ripper.

The real Spring Heeled Jack, if he ever existed, was never caught. There was only ever one suspect. Henry Beresford, the eccentric young third Marquis of Waterford, who was known for his misogynist behaviour towards women and for having a bad, often alcohol-fuelled temper.

The Lord Mayor of London also had a theory that Spring Heeled Jack was simply created by a group of elite gentlemen who dressed up and terrorized women as part of a bet.

There is another, somewhat strange theory of how Spring Heeled Jack is actually an alien from a planet with high gravity. This would, according to them, explain his extraordinary jumping abilities. Our thin atmosphere could have made him giddy, which would explain his laughter. He would be a nocturnal alien, with reflective eyes like that of a cat. That would explain his glowing red gaze.

But, before considering the theories about aliens, it is important to understand the historical context in which Spring Heeled Jack was born. Because, how can a creature such as Spring Heeled Jack be born in the minds of people?

The 1830s in England were turbulent times, full of tension and anxiety. It was a time filled with social, economic, political, and cultural changes. King William IV died in 1837, and people were uncertain about the capabilities of the young queen Victoria, since she was only 18 and a woman. In this time period, society became more regulated and disciplined, which characterised the Victorian era.

In a period of increasing and intensified control, the monstrous Spring Heeled Jack represented the appealingly uncontrolled. Like the wicked Mr Hyde compared to the composed Dr Jekyll. That is why he is constantly shifting in eyewitness reports. One time Spring Heeled Jack is a beast, the next time he is a ghost, and yet another time he is a devil.

This tense and potentially volatile context became the perfect ground to build a legend that is build on mass panic and sensationalism from the press.

During the Victorian era, printing technology improved. This gave more people access to education and books, causing illiteracy rates to drop. The increased demand of books combined with the high rates of crime created the perfect environment for people to profit off of sensationalized stories about monsters and criminals, such as Spring Heeled Jack.

So whether Spring Heeled Jack was a man, a monster, a ghost, a devil, an alien, or simply a result of a restrained society looking for sensation, his legacy is very much real. Spring Heeled Jack remains a popular penny dreadful figure from the Victorian era, featuring in games such as Assassins Creed Syndicate or the series Jekyll and Hyde. And whatever Spring Heeled Jack was or is, he is Certainly Strange.

SOURCES

Bell, K. (2012). The legend of spring-heeled Jack: Victorian urban folklore and popular cultures. Boydell Press.

Bellows, J. (2006). Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from: https://www.damninteresting.com/spring-heeled-jack/

Castelow, E. (n.d.). Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from: https://www.historic-uk.com/CultureUK/Spring-Heeled-Jack/

Dunning, B. (2007). The Attack of Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from: https://skeptoid.com/episodes/4064

Grundhauser, E. (2016). Meet Spring-Heeled Jack, the Leaping Devil That Terrorized Victorian England. Retrieved from: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/meet-springheeled-jack-the-leaping-devil-that-terrorized-victorian-england

Ogden, P. (2020). Spring heeled Jack: The Leaping Devil Who Spread Hysteria in Victorian Britain. Retrieved from: https://oddfeed.net/spring-heeled-jack-the-leaping-devil-who-spread-hysteria-in-victorian-britain/

Origjanska, M. (2017). Spring-Heeled Jack: The Leaping Boogeyman who terrorized Victorian England. Retrieved from: https://www.thevintagenews.com/2017/11/26/spring-heeled-jack/

Perry, L. (n.d.). Spring Heeled Jack, Fiction Based On Fact. Retrieved from https://casebook.org/dissertations/ripperoo-spring.html

Sheldon, N. (October 29, 2018). 16 Frightening Details in the Story of Spring Heeled Jack. Retrieved from https://historycollection.com/16-frightening-details-in-the-story-of-spring-heeled-jack/16/

[footballxwrites]

Dating Trent includes?

Dating TAA includes:

Living together on the outskirts of Liverpool where it was a bit more rural so yous would often go for a walk through the surrounding woods, knowing there was little chance of being spotted by anyone, just the way you liked it 🍂

Him absolutely adoring you and your beauty, thinking you’re the full breathtaking package and wondering how someone could look so perfect all the time...even first thing on a morning

You having to drag him out of bed at 6am for training seeing as he wasn’t a morning person and instead was the type of guy who snoozed the alarm and complained for “just 5 more mins” cuddled up under the sheets together

Going for early morning runs together, always turning it into a competition as to who can make it back home first 🌬

Him being obsessed with showing affection towards you, whether that was in public or just in the house, he loved your touch and had a thing for wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him so you could bury your head into his neck

Never just a peck on the lips, if he was going in for a kiss it’d have to be passionate and his hand always automatically cups your cheek when he casually slips his tongue into your mouth 😏

Casual dates, usually a takeaway snuggled up on the sofa together with Netflix (neither of you being the most romantic), however he would go all out every so often to surprise you, maybe a home cooked dinner or a night out with everyone

Always making an effort for events like your anniversary where he’d book yous a villa somewhere abroad (last year it being the Maldives) and your birthday which he would book you a girls trip away or throw you a spa day 🧖‍♀️

Your relationship being quite private, however he never thought twice about posting a photo of the both of you and commenting “👀🔥” on your pics, letting everyone know you’re his

Loved to switch it up in the bedroom every now and then with you taking control and riding him dressed in your best lingerie whilst he drooled over you enjoying the view 😉

You both having the same taste in music so you’d be blasting Drake in the car and belting it out at the top of your lungs

Him being quite the jealous one when another guy tries flirting with you on a night out, always being protective of you when yous were at the busy clubs in town

You constantly mimicking his accent because you know it annoys him, him doing the same to you but it didn’t bother you like it did him ;)

Overall him being the biggest softie in the world, always laughing and joking on with you about the daftest of things making you cry with laughter, giving you compliments everyday (even when you felt and looked like shit), always wanting to make you feel good about yourself

[stewy]

Around midday on April 1, Paul and Linda returned to the beach house that had hosted the previous night’s revelries with their children, Heather, Mary and Stella. John was still in bed when McCartney arrived, and his new lifestyle seemed to cause a bemused Paul some slight alarm. “He was a teenager again,” McCartney reflected. “He was just being his old Liverpool self, just a wild, wild boy. Linda and I had kids so we’d be up early. We wouldn’t be just lying in bed until three in the afternoon, which is what John was doing. It was everything he’d always wanted to do in Liverpool . . .”

Once Lennon had eventually risen, McCartney recalled taking John into one of the rooms at the back of the beach house. The two men exchanged pleasantries, and were happy to see each other. Paul found John in a mellow mood due to his docile routine.

Having surfaced from his noonday slumber, Lennon eventually joined them at the poolside, where McCartney was enjoying the company of familiar faces. Keith Moon complimented him on his drumming work on Band On The Run following the last-minute departure of Denny Seiwell in September. Nilsson attempted to entice McCartney into sampling some angel dust, who politely (and wisely) declining his offer. “He seemed to understand,” Paul recalled. “But that’s how it was there.”

Come Together: Lennon and McCartney in the Seventies by Richard White

[blindbatalex]

musings in a married-with-a-kid carraville au in which gary hits his head and forgets approximately two decades worth of memories. part 2. (part 1 here)

Speak of the devil. (…or in this case, Liver bird?)

Some five minutes later, the door clicked open and then there C.arragher was, with his grey hair and lined face.  

“Annie!” he hissed as soon as he opened the door to the living room.  “You know daddy can’t play this game with us right now.”

So they’ve had a Conversation then, no doubt after the Incident.  Junior shrieked right back- “daddy said we could!”

C.arragher looked at him, as if to say is that true?, still alarmed.  Oh please, Gary thought, bristling.  What did C.arragher think?  That Gary never dealt with a four-year-old in his life before?  That he could somehow control his reflexes when he was asleep?

He nodded.  “I did.”

“Come da, join!”

Gary’s attention turned back to Junior.  What did she mean, join?  Why was she patting the space next to her with alarming enthusiasm?

He turned to C.arragher and found his husband now looking proper apologetic.

“We uh,” he said-

And Gary just knew.

“You used to style my hair together, didn’t you?”

Of course they did.  He sighed quietly with the resignation that accompanies a fourth conceded goal in a 4-0 game.  He nodded at C.arragher, who was still standing there, as unsure and awkward as he used to look on the pitch.  “Go on, then.”

He tracked C.arragher as he made his way around the toys strewn around the floor and sat next to Junior.  “Should we use a blue ribbon next?” he asked, to which Junior replied, “no, pink!”

How nice it would be to be in the home dressing room at Old T.rafford right now, with Ferguson yelling in his face.

“I’m with Annie on this one.  Pink, please.”

“You always side with her,” C.arragher said with mock grief.  His accent was atrocious, obviously, and he was sitting waaay too close to Gary, but he was a good father; Gary ought to give him that.

What Gary’s future self was thinking, marrying him and adopting his child, he still had no idea.  Retirement-induced insanity, perhaps.

“Well, she clearly knows what she is doing.”

“I do!” Junior agreed and Gary closed his eyes as two pairs of Scouse hands messed with his hair.

*

When Junior finally declared their work finished, Gary stood up, swooped her on his arm—he had definitely forgotten how heavy four-year-olds are—and headed to the bathroom, with C.arragher following after them. His hair looked like a circus shortly after a massive fire had broken out, in an explosion of haphazard braids, and colourful hair clips, ribbons and hair ties.  No doubt this was why C.arragher kept his own hair very short.

Annie was looking at him with wide, expectant eyes.

“Woooow,” Gary said, dragging the word, “Jamie isn’t this the best my hair has ever looked?”

“Absolutely,” C.arragher agreed to the girl’s delight.

Gary kissed Junior on the temple and told her he loved her.  Not her fault, any of this.  Then, he moved to take off the first hair clip, Junior still balanced on his other arm.

The reaction was swift as it was high-pitched. “Daddy, what are you doing!”

Gary stopped and looked at C.arragher, ignoring the wedding ring on his finger that he had never taken off.  Gary’s was buried deep into the drawer of the bedside table. “I don’t…take these off, do I?”  The man shook his head, looking apologetic once again.  “Not until it’s time to go to bed.”

Of course.  Of course he didn’t.  This day just kept getting better and better.  He was smiling but he had a sense there was a slightly maniacal quality to it despite his best efforts.  He set Junior down.  C.arragher must have sensed it too, because he told her to go get Fred the Red.

“Does C.arragher Junior support United, then?” Gary said, dropping the smile as soon as she was gone.  His cheeks hurt.  This one he did not see coming, he was not going to lie.  Jamie C.arragher letting his daughter support United?

C.arragher flinched—was it the nickname?  He looked away and when he looked back his expression was back to that neutral, guarded expression he always wore around Gary, since Gary’s accident.

“You moved to Liverpool for us, so, I gave you that one.  I don’t get to take her to Anfield until she is at least ten.”

Huh.  Good for Gary.  Raising C.arragher’s only child in the true path.

“Do I like it, then?  Living in Liverpool?”

He still could not believe that one.  Marrying a Liverpool player bit, he also could not believe, but, even if he was so out of his mind to go through with that- Liverpool?  How could he move to live in Liverpool unless someone was holding a loaded gun to his head?  Even then, he figured, he might have just chosen the bullet.

“I don’t think you do, but-”

“I was not ready for the tabloid-shitstorm our divorce would cause?”

“Something like that, yeah.”  C.arragher’s smile was heart-breaking—and this, coming from Gary. They weren’t actually considering a divorce before, were they?  Maybe future Gary had better sense than Gary gave him credit for.  Huh.

C.arragher cleared his throat.  “Thank you for this, Gary,” he said before he turned to leave. Was it living in the same house, looking after the same brat for a few days, that made Gary soft?  Perhaps it was the concussion.

“Jamie.”

He stopped with his hand on the door handle and turned back.  He looked much older than his years.

“Yeah?”

“Here.”  Gary took off one tiny hair clip, with a little flower plastered on it.  Then he reached forward and put it on Jamie’s hair.