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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Sympathy for the spammer

Catch me in Miami! I'll be at Books and Books in Coral Gables on Jan 22 at 8PM.

In any scam, any con, any hustle, the big winners are the people who supply the scammers – not the scammers themselves. The kids selling dope on the corner are making less than minimum wage, while the respectable crime-bosses who own the labs clean up. Desperate "retail investors" who buy shitcoins from Superbowl ads get skinned, while the MBA bros who issue the coins make millions (in real dollars, not crypto).

It's ever been thus. The California gold rush was a con, and nearly everyone who went west went broke. Famously, the only reliable way to cash out on the gold rush was to sell "picks and shovels" to the credulous, doomed and desperate. That's how Leland Stanford made his fortune, which he funneled into eugenics programs (and founding a university):

https://www.hachettebookgroup.com/titles/malcolm-harris/palo-alto/9780316592031/

That means that the people who try to con you are almost always getting conned themselves. Think of Multi-Level Marketing (MLM) scams. My forthcoming novel The Bezzle opens with a baroque and improbable fast-food Ponzi in the town of Avalon on the island of Catalina, founded by the chicle monopolist William Wrigley Jr:

http://thebezzle.org

Wrigley found fast food declasse and banned it from the island, a rule that persists to this day. In The Bezzle, the forensic detective Martin Hench uncovers The Fry Guys, an MLM that flash-freezes contraband burgers and fries smuggled on-island from the mainland and sells them to islanders though an "affiliate marketing" scheme that is really about recruiting other affiliate markets to sell under you. As with every MLM, the value of the burgers and fries sold is dwarfed by the gigantic edifice of finance fraud built around it, with "points" being bought and sold for real cash, which is snaffled up and sucked out of the island by a greedy mainlander who is behind the scheme.

A "bezzle" is John Kenneth Galbraith's term for "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." In every scam, there's a period where everyone feels richer – but only the scammers are actually cleaning up. The wealth of the marks is illusory, but the longer the scammer can preserve the illusion, the more real money the marks will pump into the system.

MLMs are particularly ugly, because they target people who are shut out of economic opportunity – women, people of color, working people. These people necessarily rely on social ties for survival, looking after each others' kids, loaning each other money they can't afford, sharing what little they have when others have nothing.

It's this social cohesion that MLMs weaponize. Crypto "entrepreneurs" are encouraged to suck in their friends and family by telling them that they're "building Black wealth." Working women are exhorted to suck in their bffs by appealing to their sisterhood and the chance for "women to lift each other up."

The "sales people" trying to get you to buy crypto or leggings or supplements are engaged in predatory conduct that will make you financially and socially worse off, wrecking their communities' finances and shattering the mutual aid survival networks they rely on. But they're not getting rich on this – they're also being scammed:

https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=4686468

This really hit home for me in the mid-2000s, when I was still editing Boing Boing. We had a submission form where our readers could submit links for us to look at for inclusion on the blog, and it was overwhelmed by spam. We'd add all kinds of antispam to it, and still, we'd get floods of hundreds or even thousands of spam submissions to it.

One night, I was lying in my bed in London and watching these spams roll in. They were all for small businesses in the rustbelt, handyman services, lawn-care, odd jobs, that kind of thing. They were 10 million miles from the kind of thing we'd ever post about on Boing Boing. They were coming in so thickly that I literally couldn't finish downloading my email – the POP session was dropping before I could get all the mail in the spool. I had to ssh into my mail server and delete them by hand. It was maddening.

Frustrated and furious, I started calling the phone numbers associated with these small businesses, demanding an explanation. I assumed that they'd hired some kind of sleazy marketing service and I wanted to know who it was so I could give them a piece of my mind.

But what I discovered when I got through was much weirder. These people had all been laid off from factories that were shuttering due to globalization. As part of their termination packages, their bosses had offered them "retraining" via "courses" in founding their own businesses.

The "courses" were the precursors to the current era's rise-and-grind hustle-culture scams (again, the only people getting rich from that stuff are the people selling the courses – the "students" finish the course poorer). They promised these laid-off workers, who'd given their lives to their former employers before being discarded, that they just needed to pull themselves up by their own boostraps:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/10/declaration-of-interdependence/#solidarity-forever

After all, we had the internet now! There were so many new opportunities to be your own boss! The course came with a dreadful build-your-own-website service, complete with an overpriced domain sales portal, and a single form for submitting your new business to "thousands of search engines."

This was nearly 20 years ago, but even then, there was really only one search engine that mattered: Google. The "thousands of search engines" the scammers promised to submit these desperate peoples' websites to were just submission forms for directories, indexes, blogs, and mailing lists. The number of directories, indexes, blogs and mailing lists that would publish their submissions was either "zero" or "nearly zero." There was certainly no possibility that anyone at Boing Boing would ever press the wrong key and accidentally write a 500-word blog post about a leaf-raking service in a collapsing deindustrialized exurb in Kentucky or Ohio.

The people who were drowning me in spam weren't the scammers – they were the scammees.

But that's only half the story. Years later, I discovered how our submission form was getting included in this get-rich-quick's mass-submission system. It was a MLM! Coders in the former Soviet Union were getting work via darknet websites that promised them relative pittances for every submission form they reverse-engineered and submitted. The smart coders didn't crack the forms directly – they recruited other, less business-savvy coders to do that for them, and then often as not, ripped them off.

The scam economy runs on this kind of indirection, where scammees are turned into scammers, who flood useful and productive and nice spaces with useless dross that doesn't even make them any money. Take the submission queue at Clarkesworld, the great online science fiction magazine, which famously had to close after it was flooded with thousands of junk submission "written" by LLMs:

https://www.npr.org/2023/02/24/1159286436/ai-chatbot-chatgpt-magazine-clarkesworld-artificial-intelligence

There was a zero percent chance that Neil Clarke would accidentally accept one of these submissions. They were uniformly terrible. The people submitting these "stories" weren't frustrated sf writers who'd discovered a "life hack" that let them turn out more brilliant prose at scale.

They were scammers who'd been scammed into thinking that AIs were the key to a life of passive income, a 4-Hour Work-Week powered by an AI-based self-licking ice-cream cone:

https://pod.link/1651876897/episode/995c8a778ede17d2d7cff393e5203157

This is absolutely classic passive-income brainworms thinking. "I have a bot that can turn out plausible sentences. I will locate places where sentences can be exchanged for money, aim my bot at it, sit back, and count my winnings." It's MBA logic on meth: find a thing people pay for, then, without bothering to understand why they pay for that thing, find a way to generate something like it at scale and bombard them with it.

Con artists start by conning themselves, with the idea that "you can't con an honest man." But the factor that predicts whether someone is connable isn't their honesty – it's their desperation. The kid selling drugs on the corner, the mom desperately DMing her high-school friends to sell them leggings, the cousin who insists that you get in on their shitcoin – they're all doing it because the system is rigged against them, and getting worse every day.

These people reason – correctly – that all the people getting really rich are scamming. If Amazon can make $38b/year selling "ads" that push worse products that cost more to the top of their search results, why should the mere fact that an "opportunity" is obviously predatory and fraudulent disqualify it?

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/29/aethelred-the-unready/#not-one-penny-for-tribute

The quest for passive income is really the quest for a "greater fool," the economist's term for the person who relieves you of the useless crap you just overpaid for. It rots the mind, atomizes communities, shatters solidarity and breeds cynicism:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security

The rise and rise of botshit cannot be separated from this phenomenon. The botshit in our search-results, our social media feeds, and our in-boxes isn't making money for the enshittifiers who send it – rather, they are being hustled by someone who's selling them the "picks and shovels" for the AI gold rush:

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2024/jan/03/botshit-generative-ai-imminent-threat-democracy

That's the true cost of all the automation-driven unemployment criti-hype: while we're nowhere near a place where bots can steal your job, we're certainly at the point where your boss can be suckered into firing you and replacing you with a bot that fails at doing your job:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The manic "entrepreneurs" who've been stampeded into panic by the (correct) perception that the economy is a game of musical chairs where the number of chairs is decreasing at breakneck speed are easy marks for the Leland Stanfords of AI, who are creating generational wealth for themselves by promising that their bots will automate away all the tedious work that goes into creating value. Expect a lot more Amazon Marketplace products called "I'm sorry, I cannot fulfil this request as it goes against OpenAI use policy":

https://www.theverge.com/2024/1/12/24036156/openai-policy-amazon-ai-listings

No one's going to buy these products, but the AI picks-and-shovels people will still reap a fortune from the attempt. And because history repeats itself, these newly minted billionaires are continuing Leland Stanford's love affair with eugenics:

https://www.truthdig.com/dig-series/eugenics/

The fact that AI spam doesn't pay is important to the fortunes of AI companies. Most high-value AI applications are very risk-intolerant (self-driving cars, radiology analysis, etc). An AI tool might help a human perform these tasks more accurately – by warning them of things that they've missed – but that's not how AI will turn a profit. There's no market for AI that makes your workers cost more but makes them better at their jobs:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Plenty of people think that spam might be the elusive high-value, low-risk AI application. But that's just not true. The point of AI spam is to get clicks from people who are looking for better content. It's SEO. No one reads 2000 words of algorithm-pleasing LLM garbage over an omelette recipe and then subscribes to that site's feed.

And the omelette recipe generates pennies for the spammer that posted it. They are doing massive volume in order to make those pennies into dollars. You don't make money by posting one spam. If every spammer had to pay the actual recovery costs (energy, chillers, capital amortization, wages) for their query, every AI spam would lose (lots of) money.

Hustle culture and passive income are about turning other peoples' dollars into your dimes. It is a negative-sum activity, a net drain on society. Behind every seemingly successful "passive income" is a con artist who's getting rich by promising – but not delivering – that elusive passive income, and then blaming the victims for not hustling hard enough:

https://www.ftc.gov/business-guidance/blog/2023/12/blueprint-trouble

I'm Kickstarting the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There's also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/15/passive-income-brainworms/#four-hour-work-week

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[mysunshinetemptress]

You see me

Leah Williamson x McCabe!Reader

Warnings: angst, feeling invisible, Leah’s ACL. Also I decided to split it into two parts this is a little background in part one part two is more your relationship development and then the downfall.

Leah wasn’t a mean person, she had never been mean to anyone in her life, until she met you the Arsenal signing who hadn’t had the opportunity to play for them in her first few seasons sent out on loan instead, Katie’s little sister, she was so mean to you though all because of a stupid bet your sister had made. Leah was doing the meanest thing she could possibly think of to you, you the quite and shy defender who only seemed to speak on the pitch, you who shied away from every fight on the pitch brought your way, you who was currently standing in front of her with tear stained cheeks as your eyes pricked with more fresh tears threatening to spill over, you who’s hands shook as you held on desperately to her present your signed Thierry Henry Arsenal jersey you had gotten as a kid. You whose eyes broke from their stare to look at Katie as she laugh “i mean come on pal hardly you actually thought that.” You who as Katie began laughing again surrounded by the Arsenal girls shoved the framed jersey into her hand quietly saying happy birthday as you turned to race out of the room. Leah was mean so mean to you a girl who didn’t deserve any of this. Amanda came pushing through the Arsenal girls before reaching her daughter “where is she off to then we are about to do the cake.” Leah turned to look at her mum cheeks blotchy and tears in her eyes “mum….i.”

6 MONTHS EARLIER

You grew up one of the youngest of 11 kids, the younger sister of international footballer Katie McCabe and so the title of “Mini Mac.” Had been bestowed upon you when you first signed for Shelbourne FC. Only you where the complete opposite to your older sister quite, reserved and always ready to shy away from a fight on or off the pitch you could easily get lost in a crowd and often times that was the case. You knew growing up in a house with so many kids whether everyone was there or not you had to be loud to be seen but after so many years of trying as a little kid you got used to being quite and invisible and unsurprisingly that transferred into your football career and adult life.

You had made your senior debut for Ireland at 16 just three weeks before your 17th birthday and shortly after your older sister’s team Arsenal had come knocking looking to sign you in the summer transfer window. How could you pass on the opportunity to play for your childhood club, a top team in the WSL and better yet along side your ideal, your older sister.

But your career seemed to get stuck at Arsenal, getting loaned out after your first season of sitting on the bench wasn’t ideal and when you finally thought you would get to step out on to the pitch for your dream team you got loaned out again this time to Manchester United.

Manchester wasn’t always the best Marc Skinner ran a tight ship that often led to you feeling worse than before hiding away from his constant grief about the team not being good enough in your cubby became a norm, but at least you got to play a couple of games right ?. what you hadn’t expected was to be called back to your parent club. With news of Leah’s ACL tear hitting the media a few days later and her inevitable exit from the team so she can focus on recovery you some how still hadn’t expected to get a phone call from Jonas Eidevall informing you that Arsenal had requested your return to take Leah’s spot on the back line plus this time would be different you would get to play along side Katie for both club and country you would have someone who wouldn’t mind sitting with you just talking about random things.

Boy where you wrong, arriving at London Colony you where greeted with the medical staff who wanted to do a check before they let you in to train with the girls agreeing quickly as to get it over and done with you couldn’t help but tap your foot excitedly the thought of pairing up with your older sister in training and just laughing like you used to. Arriving into the changing room you turned looking for your sisters cubby spotting the shamrocks decor you smiled at the little sense of home no matter how cliche it was before setting your things into empty space beside her looking in at the photos that dawned the inside smiling at the family photo of all 11 of you before it waved as you spotted your face half cropped out of it only you knew it was you otherwise you wouldn’t have a clue who it was. You jumped slightly at the loud noise smiling at the familiar accent Turing to spot your older sister “Y/n.” You looked at all the other Arsenal girls smiling “hi.” Katie walked towards you eyebrows pinched together in confusion “wha ya doin here.” You looked at her confused this time “ I got called off loan I’m covering the centre back position.” The team looked at you confused “we don’t need another Centre Back Y/n we have Rafa, Lotte, Jen and Teyah.” You looked at Katie a little hurt at she brushed your position off of course you knew that Arsenal didn’t have a shortage of players that’s why you where sent on loan in the first place but now you where here to play for their senior squad for the first time at the age of 22 along side Katie and you couldn’t help but feel like she didn’t want you there “I know, but Jonas called me and he said that I would be taking over for Leah for the time being.” You were cut off by Jen “he said that to me and Lotte as well mate.” You felt delusional now of course you wouldn’t be the first choice not against Jens experience and Lottes longevity at Arsenal from being an academy player you where just Katie’s little sister the name on your back the reason you had gotten so far that’s what you had been told since your older brother Gary had you out playing in the road “oh yeah I’m probably just here to back up you guys then or maybe Steph I can play on the left.” Jen nodded moving to her cubby as the rest of the team dispersed “I’m really excited.” Katie looked at you eyebrows forward “why.” You smiled “I get to play along side you here, you know my dream club with my big sister I was actually wondering if you might want to….” Victoria made her way over jumping on to Katie’s back “partners for training.” You looked at the way Katie’s face lit up for the younger girl “who else would I be partners with.” Katie turned and began talking with the younger girl as you felt your heart sink you wanted to partner with Katie but just like at home when she would rather play with Lauryn or international duty and you could never drag her away from Rue or Louise.

You sighed walking back into the changing room taking off your boots before heading to the gym where you watched the girls separate into their groups as you headed over to the balance ball looking to start like you normally did at United. You couldn’t help look around at all the little cliques within the team and wonder if you would ever fit in, shaking your head you decided to try and stick with Katie you could at least count on her she was a built in buddy for crying out loud.

This happened for the first couple of weeks back at the Arsenal you following Katie and her friends around as you tried to fit into conversations or into training exercises but they never seemed to notice you often getting cut off or left to run a drill solo, match days were one of the worst getting dressed into your Arsenal shirt adrenaline kicking in as you hoped today would be the day you started or even got to come off the bench only to be met with a full 90 minutes of siting alone on the end of the bench freezing legs bouncing up and down.

Team nights weren’t any better often sitting alone just watching your teammates laugh trying to get in on the jokes and have a laugh but ultimately getting talked over again. You would often find yourself slipping out before food arrived.

Leah had been watching you over the past few weeks heartbreaking at the sight of your depleted emotions as you were either denied a conversation or training partner or the opportunity to represent Arsenal. Walking into the changing room Leah looked around smiling at you softly as you looked up catching her eyes as you tied your boots getting ready to head out for training “hey, we are having a team session at mine this weekend I was wondering what you eat from the Chinese to have it all ready.” You looked quite shocked at the older girl not once had someone approached you, you always had to put in the effort and asking what you wanted to eat at hers was even more shocking you knew you wouldn’t even last that long but the look on Leah’s face told you she wasn’t taking no for an answer “eh just some version of spicy noodles please.” Leah nodded smiling “cool it starts at 7 but come over whenever yeah.” You nodded smiling “thank you.” Leah squeezed your arm heading to the physio as you head out to train.

Arriving at Leah’s you texted Katie who you knew had already arrived telling her you were outside and asking her to get the door as the anxiety built at the thought of ringing the doorbell but after 20 minutes you decided you where just going to have to push it aside and knock. Instantly the door opened as Leah smiled at you happily “hey you made it.” You smiled sheepishly at her “yeah sorry I…. Is Katie here.” Leah looked at you worriedly as you picked at your hand “yeah over there.” You turned spotting your older sister before walking over “hi.” You felt stupid as no one not even your sister seemed to acknowledge you as you looked around for an empty seat before opting to stand in the doorway to the hall. Hours ticked by as you watched your teammates once again laugh and enjoy each others company as you stood awkwardly away moving whenever someone had to get past, sighing you set your drink on the table before heading to the door before you felt someone grab your hand “where you off to then.” You turned eyes landing on Leah as she smiled at you “me..oh..I…well I was going to head home.” Leah looked at you carefully “how about one drink with me and if you still want to leave after it then you can and I’ll see you on Sunday.” Looking at her quizzically “ok.” You were shocked at how quickly you agreed but followed the older girl as she laced her fingers with yours pulling you into the kitchen “right pretty girl what would you like to drink.” You looked at the drinks spread out in front of you before agreeing to a bottle of Heineken as Leah popped off the top handing it to you “you know for a McCabe you’re awfully quiet.” You smiled halfheartedly “I know, I….its just the way I am I guess” you paused “I tried to be..but when you get left out no matter how hard you try you sort of just I don’t know adapt to it ya know.” Leah smiled at you softly “well I think it’s rather refreshing I mean I know she’s your sister but Jesus Christ Katie’s worse then Tooney and that girls loud.” You let out a laugh as Leah’s eyes lit up she had never heard you laugh before and to make you laugh caused something to stir within her.

You both didn’t seem to notice the time as the girls crowded into the kitchen to say goodnight to their host as you looked at your phone looking back up you realised Leah had been swept away by your teammates as you put the empty bottle you had been nursing for the last four hours and slipped out the front door before heading home.

Team nights continued on like this, the girls sat laughing in each other’s sitting rooms while you and Leah talked about anything and everything in the kitchen laughing amongst yourselves. You couldn’t help but smile at the blonde the fluttering feeling in your stomach worsening the more you both did this at team bonding nights so much so it had spilled over to getting the fluttering feeling every time you saw the older girl.

Playing at Arsenal was improving too, you had been pushing your self harder than ever hoping for Jonas to notice and give you some minutes and finally it payed off.

You guys were set to play United and you couldn’t wait to see some of your old teammates especially Mary who had taken you under her wing when you joined on your loan.

Walking out for warm ups you began lightly running before being pulled into a rondo and then taking shots at Manu. You began to make your way inside when you heard your name being called before looking to the family and friend section seeing Leah smiling you waved sheepishly making your way back to the changing room. Jonas had barged in ten minutes before kick off stating a change to the line up “Y/n you’re starting on the left Steph is out she has a problem with her hamstring.” You looked at the older man surprised as you nodded standing to make your way to the tunnel.

After a tough match that ended in a draw you turned looking at your teammates breaking into groups as they began making their way to the away stand to thank the travelling fans before you felt someone jump on your back “Maca.” You laughed trying to shove her off “Maza get off me.” Laughing Mary jumped off your back pulling you into a bear hug. You sunk into her embrace as you squeezed her tight “I miss you.” You hummed “I miss you too.” Mary pulled away “you seem happy, definitely happier what’s going on your new team absolutely adore you then.” You smiled halfheartedly as Mary felt her smile drop “hey you can tell me.” You shrugged “I don’t know I just thought this time would be different, getting to play at my favourite club with Katie is a dream I mean it’s all I’ve ever wanted but I just can’t seem to click.” You dropped your head feeling disappointed “oh y/n they’ll come around your amazing, quiet and shy yes but amazing nonetheless.” You looked up “I think I made a friend though Mary.” Mary felt her heart swell at the hope in your eyes “oh yeah who.” You smiled thinking of Leah just as she wrapped her arm around your shoulder greeting Mary who seemed to immediately notice your red cheeks “ready to head to then.” Mary grabbed your arm pulling you towards her “did she not tell you Williamson she’s staying at mine tonight then heading back to London.” Leah looked at you eyebrows raised as she poked her tongue into her cheek trying to not get annoyed at the way Mary’s arm wrapped around your waist and you leaned into the older girl “but it’s Katie’s night for team bonding.” Mary shrugged “we have had this planned for weeks Williamson I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait.” You smiled sheepishly at the blonde “sorry Lee, I’ll see you tomorrow though.” Leah sighed pulling you into a hug “alright but you text me as soon as you hit London.” You smiled nodding “Will do.”

You spent the night talking about Leah to Mary and the older girl couldn’t help but smile you looked so in love just talking about her and so happy that you had made a friend on the Arsenal squad that not once did she try stop you from talking instead smiling and nodding along and asking questions when she thought of them.

Leah spent the night feeling miserable sat on the couch beside Lia and Beth, your kitchen chats had become her favourite part of team nights and with you still in Manchester Leah felt slightly lost, that was until Katie announced a game idea “let’s play truth or dare.” Sighing Leah joined the rest of the girls sat in a circle laughing every now and again as she watched her teammates take turns choosing truth or dare and carrying out each task that was until Katie decided to ask her “right then Williamson truth or dare.” Leah smiled never one to back out “Dare McCabe.” Katie smiled wide “I dare you to ask my sister out and see how long you can string her along for.” Leah felt her smile drop “what.” Lia piped up “Katie that’s a bit far.” Katie shook her head “nah it’s not, it’s just a joke she’ll understand come on I’ll even make it a bet.” Leah looked around at her teammates, before dropping her eyes to the ground. She liked you more than a friend but you had never given any indication that you liked her back, maybe she could use this to see and then if you did you guys would end up dating anyway right. Looking up Leah smiled slightly “how much.”

[beyondthisdarkhouse]

God I feel like the luckiest person in the world sometimes.

My embroidery research led me to this article I mean to write a kind of field notes report on, since it took me months to get my hands on a copy, and it's a really careful and thoughtful examination of how embroiderers thought about and shared new and foreign ideas. It's titled “‘From Scorching Spain and Freezing Muscovy’: English Embroidery and Early Modern Mediterranean Trade,” by Sylvia Houghteling in The Mobility of People and Things in the Early Modern Mediterranean, ed. Elisabeth A. Fraser (London: Routledge, 2020).

It whetted my appetite for more such articles, and Dr Houghteling lists some really cool ones, including:

“Origins in Entanglement: Connections Between English Crewel Embroidery and Indian Chintz” in Cloth that Changed the World: The Coloured Cottons of India, ed. Sarah Fee (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2020).

Cloth that Changed the World was actually an exhibit that ran several years at the Royal Ontario Museum, and it sounds like it was really cool. And this book combines photos of the exhibit with modern scholarship, but it is not available in a digital form and I cannot get so much as a printed off copy of a copy through Interlibrary Loan. It costs $50 and that's the end of it until I have an actual research budget. Still, a girl can lust and gripe about the unattainable.

Then this came in the mail today , invoiced to a friend.

🥹🥹🥹

It's a totally amazing book. I love it so much. God, this stuff.

[harrysmimi]

Sugar

Synopsis: One where YN is dragged along by Harry for Coachella but she ain't complaining

CW: smut

More of my work

YN never expected to ever step a foot outside of London until she has graduated and spent at least fifteen years of her life practicing Law until Harry asked her - no basically dragged her along with him to LA.

Who was Harry to her you may ask? He didn't liked the title but it is the truth that he's basically her sugar daddy.

He liked to say he is sponsoring her education for nothing in return. And it is also true that he hasn't gotten anything in return. Yet. Nor he expects it.

What an amazing sugar daddy he is!

But it eats away at YN's mind and heart seeing how much he spends on her. Her tuition fees and textbooks eat majority of what he spends on her. His hard earned money, he spent all his teenage years earning to be spent on her like pouring water into a river - it was pointless.

And exactly, it made no sense!

Not to her, when he doesn't expect anything in return from her, like other sugar daddies do, he expects no sexual favours or even public outing in return. But she was drowning in debt from her car loan, student loan and she was three months behind her rent and was just two days away from getting evicted from the flat she has been living in since she was eighteen. Her two jobs she worked weren't enough to get her by, even if she cut down on most essential things.

When and how Harry came as her saviour? How has her life been before they met each other? Those are stories for another time.

But she is really in fear of when his mood would strike and he'd ask her to suck his dick off for him, or fuck her to oblivion. Well, he doesn't seem that kind of guy but she has got major trust issues. Especially since this guy she dated tried to take her advantage when she was drunk her ass off, luckily for her that night her friends were with her. But men her whole life have been very unpredictable to her.

Apart from making out a couple of time, her and Harry haven't done anything. That too with her consent. He doesn't even holds her hand without asking her. He's nothing but just so kind, and nurturing, and caring, and soft, and calm, and patient, and the list goes on. But could it be a mask for something which doesn't or wouldn't favour her.

One thing she takes with her into getting in her career is fo never trust anyone. That's what she has been doing her whole life. She learned to never trust anyone at the very tender age of six.

Harry has, no doubt become first constant in her life. If not anything more he's a good friend. A very good friend, she might add.

And spoiler alert, she would admit that she has fallen for him hard.

There was a big internal turmoil she found herself in as she stepped on that private get with him that night. It was scary because she doesn't remember being on a plane, let alone a private jet with sofa like seats.

But she tried to negotiate in not going to LA with him. She fears. She fears of dying somewhere and her friends being unknown of that. What if he is a serial killer as well as a global star? You never know!

"But what about DumDum?" She asked, packing a duffle bag Harry got her last minute with a sweater and other small things as her only suitcase she own is full and very small for a two week long trip. "I can't leave him alone."

"That cat will be taken care of, sugar, don't worry about him." Harry sighed as he sat patiently on the edge of her bed.

"He is not just a cat, he is my son!" YN argued as she threw everything of makeup she owns in a small pouch. Yes she found that black ball of purring fur beside a dumpster not even a month ago, but she loves him very much - and the feelings are mutual! "Where is he going?"

"To the cat hostel." He shrugged.

"You are not sending my baby to a hostel. He is too young!" She gasped, "maybe, I shouldn't go. He needs me here."

"You are making bad excuses, Sugar, now stop stalling, we have to leave in ten minutes." Harry chuckled as he got up to gather the rest lf her stuff, her carry on bag pack he sees her carry everywhere she goes and her suitcase, and even put DumDum in his carrier. "There is a surprise for you there, come on now."

YN stood there on the other side of her bed, with a nervous and scared face, making him ask, "do you trust me?"

"No," she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" He enquired.

"I said, I can't afford the trip." She gulped, nervously. Harry kept the bag aside and set DumDum's carrier carefully on the floor before he walked upto her.

"Look, I won't force you anymore." He assured her, "wanted to keep this a surprise but, since you won't trust me. I'm taking you there with me is because Billie Eilish is performing there, and I can take you to watch her."

"What?"

"Mhmm," he nodded, "you appear to like her a lot, so yeah, I thought that would be a good early present for m'kitten."

"Wait, I, I don't like her." YN stuttered, deadass lying on his face but all he did was look down.

She was dressed Billie Eilish merch, a large Tshirt and sweat pants. There was a poster of the girl on her wall and her album vinyls too, even though she doesn't have a record player.

Harry also remembers her running back home after finding the things she's wearing at a thrift store, ranting and squealing about it and how good of a steal it was to both her best friends on a phone call as he waited for her to let him in with her.

Harry sent off DumDum with his other manager Tommy to be signed into a cat hostel.

To focus on one thing, YN is very nervous to fly in a plane for basically first time. It was killing her soul. She just sat there, looking like a scared little puppy in a corner seat when she got to know she can sit wherever she pleases.

"Hey, what's wrong love?" Harry asked.

"I'm just nervous to be on a plane." She shared, a sheepish smile on her face. He sat next to her.

"Here, you can hold my hand. But you've got nothing to worry about." He assured her, "our pilot is amazing, he's flown me many times around the world." He strapped her seat belt for her as she was fiddling with it.

"Oh, has he?"

"Mhmm." Harry nodded, "so it's okay, I know you worry a lot." He went to put on his own seatbelt.

"You're lying." She deadpanned.

"About what I'm lying you think?"

"That you know the pilot." She squinted her eyes at him, "Harry don't lie to me about this, it is going to make me more anxious. I might literally throw up on the floor."

He chuckled, "my love, wouldn't lie about this. I care about you, so of course I don't lie. Not to you at least."

"So you do lie?"

"What about we watch your favourite movies?" He suggested to distract her switching the subject.

Once about halfway to LA, YN was still anxious.

"YN, it's okay, love." Harry cooed, "I'm sorry I forced you to come along with me."

"No, I'm fine." She sniffled on her tears, taking in deep breaths.

Harry was genuinely feeling bad for dragging her along with him. He wasn't aware of her this fear or he would have never even mention it twice to her. All eight months he have spent with her, he'd come to conclusion that she's naturally very anxious person, that she is paranoid most of the time.

"We're almost there," he assured her. "I'm sorry again, love."

"Harry, no, it's okay." She cooed in attempt to make him feel better about this. It wasn't his fault that she's scared of her first time on a plane since she was a toddler. It was no one's fault.

"Do you want to get pizza after we land?" He asked, she loves pizza more than anything.

"I'd like that." She nodded.

"Thought so," he smiled pressing a kiss of her head.

There was definitely something reciprocated from his side, or at least that's what she likes to think about. The way he looks at her doesn't fail to make her skin heat up, or the way he call her all his sweet names. Her favourite was Bunny or Kitten.

Her friends would argue otherwise that it was normal for her fall for him when they're sleeping together and he's essentially taking care of her in a way, which isn't entirely true. He hasn't touched her in that way. Though she could feel the sexual tension in the room they're in.

Like now, as she sat next to him, hugging his arm as he read his book silently. He's a big reader she reckoned. He's always reading some or other book. She can never do that. He pulls it off too, with a pair of reading glasses perched up on his perfect nose.

She didn't realise when she fell asleep, but Harry woke her after they landed, she is indeed a heavy sleeper as he says. She didn't wake up when their plane landed.

"Did you had a good sleep, babylove?" He enquired, a sleepy look on his own face as he smiled at her.

"Yeah," she nodded smiling back. Harry leaned down to press another kiss on her head.

"C'mon love, let's go to our hotel now." He grabbed her stuff for her like a true gentleman he is out of the plane and handed it to one his guard so it can be put into the car.

YN was expecting a different room for herself but Harry had different plans she reckoned, they'd have to share a room. A suite to be exact, which was so fucking luxurious it made her own rented one bedroom flat like a dumpster in comparison.

It had it's own kitchen, a living room, a balcony, bedroom and en suite bathroom, a whole ass walk in closet! The sofa looked so luxurious she wouldn't mind switching it up with her bed at home.

"Are we going to share a room?" She asked.

"Sorry I didn't tell you about it, but yes, there are no more suites available whilst our stay here on this floor." Harry shared.

"Oh," was her reaction.

"Can get you different room on another floor if you're ot comfortable." He suggested.

"It's fine, I guess." She shrugged dropped her carry on bag on the floor as she checked out the room. She doesn't want him to spend on another room for no reason. She so badly wanted to jump on the bed and do a bounce test but she was afraid to break the frame as everything looked so expensive.

Her friends would have gone nuts at the site of this room alone, destroy the perfectly made bed in a matter of minutes. She'd join them too, without any hesitation!

Just as she was about to go to the balcony she felt a tug on her hand. Harry had pulled her in, he took a seat on the edge of the bed they were to share for their entire trip. He trapped her between his thighs, making her sit on his lap. It wasn't a new thing for him to be physical with her, she quite liked it. Afterall she's been deprived of physical touch with human her whole life, so she'd shamelessly indulge into his cuddles, and even sweet little kisses.

This all had no label to it, as he doesn't like the idea of giving their relationship a label of Sugar Daddy and Sugar baby. He hates that for some reason. Maybe she can call it friends with benefits? But they're lacking the benefits part to the major on his side.

She grabbed a gentle hold of his hand which was wrapped around her waist from behind to her side, he wasn't wearing his usual rings so it was easier for her slip her fingers between his. Feeling his warm palm against her own gave her a sense of security in some way. Which she doubts is healthy, to be dependent on someone like this, her therapist would agree to that if she even had one. But she doesn't care.

"Do you want to go get dinner tonight with me?" He asked.

"Mhmm," she nodded.

"What do you feel like eating, sugar?" He spoke, his mouth closer to her skin of her neck as he peppered her with ticklish kisses.

"I don't know," she shrugged, smiling, "I'll tell you when I decide."

"Yeah? I was going to say we go eat some Lebanese food?" He suggested, lifting his head up to look at her. He knows that's her favourite cuisine to have, the look on her face was what he was expecting.

"Yes!" She beamed.

"Thought you'd like the idea." He teased, "do you want to rest whilst I get few things sorted for the show tomorrow?"

"I'm fine, I'll just go take a shower." She said.

"Okay," he kissed her cheek, "wear something pretty for tonight, yeah?"

She just nodded dumbfounded. He has never asked her to wear something "pretty" before. It was not something she was expecting coming from him. What did he meant by that? Something pretty on the outside or inside?

She was going to embarrass herself if he meant something pretty inside with her granny panties.

She decided to stick to her usual regardless. She didn't packed anything necessarily pretty thinking she's not going to need any as being their normal self was something she was actually expecting.

None the less, the dinner was amazing!

"Harry, no!" She whined when she stole a Felafel from her plate, so in return she stole a Kebab from him.

"You're stealing."

"You started it."

And they play argued about it all night. Going back and forth from stealing from each other's plates, but ending up sharing anyway. Harry decided they walk back to their hotel, he was quite liking the weather he said.

He loves to walk, and she's not used to that much walking but she isn't going to complain because she is having an amazing time. By the end of the night, YN stopped him halfway on their way back to hotel to take off her heeled shoes.

"Here lemme do it," he crouched in front of her, placing her hand he had in his on his shoulder as he proceeded to take off her shoes for her.

"Harry you don't have-"

"Shush!" He sounded, "do you want to wear mine?"

"No, I can walk barefoot." She said, "thank you," watching him so focused in untying her shoes and not getting the lace tangled was so adorable to her. A stray curl managed to plop out of the mop of hair he had gelled down earlier to keep tame, he needed a hair cut he said but honestly she liked his hair like that. It was a bummer she did not felt she had the right to tell him that she should maybe opt not to cut it, she is not his girlfriend after all.

She tried to take her shoes from him but he did let her as he grabbed her hand with his free one again stood up.

"No problem," he pressed a soft kiss on the full of her mouth.

"Harry, we're on a street." She reminded her as he started walking again. All of a sudden he was now tall again to her being flat on her feet again.

"Are you afraid of PDA?" He scoffed confusedly.

"No, but allegedly you've got a girlfriend, you can't be caught like this." YN said.

"I could care less about it." Sighing, he draped his arm around her shoulder as he pulled her closer to him. Instead of feeling remorse she gave into the warmth radiating from him, she wouldn't want to be involved with him if he were in a relationship, it's just those PR articles which made her feel bad sometimes.

Once back in the hotel room, Harry let her go finally so she can get ready for bed.

"When did you get these?" Harry asked placing her shoes on aside.

"They're my friend's I borrowed for this trip." YN shared.

YN was having a good day, she decided as she managed to wash her make-up off without getting anything in her eyes and having a burning eye until morning. Her hair was acting amazingly. Her PJs felt more comfy tonight. The sheets on their bed were changed she noticed, they were nice and cold and cosy when she got under waiting for Harry who was taking way too long, she was going to fall asleep then and there.

"Did you had a good time today?" Harry asked when he got out of the shower, agressively rubbing his hair dry with his microfiber towel, a pair of basketball short hung on his hips. These little things about him were making her fall hard for him, uncontrollably.

It was going to be hard on her when things come to end with him eventually in future she reckoned. But she was going to cherish every moment of it till it lasts, she also decided.

"Don't rub on your hair like that!" She exclaimed. He just shrugged and threw his towel on the spare chair with rest of his random clothes there and got in bed next to her. He's a messy one and it for sure trigger her OCD in some matters.

"Why did you ask me to wear something pretty?" YN asked, catching him off guard. She isn't this unpredictable.

"Why? Are you wearing something pretty?" He counter questioned, brows furrowed in anticipation.

"No!" She had a sheepish look on her face, regretting ever asking that question, "I didn't bring anything pretty with me." That earned a heart chuckle from him.

"I don't expect you to, sugar okay?" He assured her. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable asking that."

"You just caught me off guard." She not so subtly scooted closer to him, "it's okay."

"Yeah?" He sounded, taking her in his arms gladly, "I wouldn't mind seeing you in something pretty you know? You look pretty in anything in my opinion."

"Shush, stop it now go to sleep you've got a show tomorrow." She put an end to this conversation. She is embarrassed okay!

......................................................................

YN felt left out most of the time when she's surrounded by people Harry have known for years. All of them are older than her. She doesn't know many of them. Most of them look at her like she's some alien. Just the girls from the love band really put in effort to be nice to her and actually talk to her kindly from Harry's team. Especially Harry's manager and his wife and his pretend partner gave her constant side eyes. She feel out of place.

She didn't wanted to be there. She felt cold of a sudden, maybe it was the skimpy crop top she wore today deciding it's going to be hot. She even tried to distract herself by going to the Pleasing store there and even getting her nails done even though she never liked it one bit. It made everything worse when she saw Harry having lunch with the woman she felt so jealous of, for a few pictures whilst she was gone. He then was dragged over for the sound check for the night.

She'd put so much effort into her look today for the first time in life. She wore the crop top she crocheted herself, even did her makeup, red eyeliner with cherries and strawberries under each one winged out pigment she spent and hour drawing this morning. But now she just wanted to and bury herself in piles of blankets and disappear from the face of the planet.

"Harry?" YN went over to him when he was done. She grabbed onto the hem of the yellow Pleasing hoodie he was wearing to tug on it to get his attention.

"Yes, my love?" He gave her his undivided attention without any hesitation, "you look so red, did you not put on any sunscreen, baby?" He was already dragging her to the shade by his trailer she thought but instead he took her inside. "Are you okay?"

"I want to go back to our hotel." She said, looking for her carry on she left somewhere.

"Are you okay?" He repeated his question.

"I just want to go back, I don't want to be here. Does it look like I am okay?" She snapped panicking to find her bag so she can leave.

"Hey, hey, sit down here." He made her sit on the sofa there, "what is going on? It's alright, you know you can tell me, baby." He assured her, "you trust me?"

"I just don't like the way they treat me." She admitted. He watched as the corners of her mouth started tucking down with a sad pout becoming more prominent as she tried to hold back her tears.

"Who are they you're talking about, sugar?" He really got worried, because he wouldn't want anyone to treat someone who's become so dearly precious to him badly. Especially given the setting of things they had agreed verbally upon to be in with one another. "Is it just one person?"

"I don't want to name any names, Harry, I just want to be alone now." She really seemed on the edge of a breakdown now. "Find my bag please?" She now felt the heat her body was disguising during her moment of panic, she started sweating all of a sudden, her lips have turned white till then.

"I'm not letting you be alone like this, look at you." He sighed, quickly fetching her a bottle of water from the portable fridge. He had never seen her like this since he first saw her at the bar in the hallway to the bathroom about to pass out, that's how he met her, took her out to the fresh air and gave her water. She wasn't crying that night but she was in same state of anxiety.

"No, I just want to go back." She mumbled quietly.

"C'mere." He ushered her towards him wrapping her up in his arms once again. She was quick to bury her face in his chest, even sobbing when she felt the weight of his hand on the back of her head caressing her hair. That one gesture made every anxious feeling she carried about him and her in a second. "Hey it's okay." He decided it's better to have that moment until she calms down herself. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"Not now." She shook her head.

"You still want to go back to hotel?" He asked.

"Yes, please!"

"Okay, come on we'll get you there now, yeah?"

Despite her protesting that she can go by herself, Harry drove her to the hotel himself. Made sure she was still doing okay before he left for the show tonight.

"YN, you feeling okay now?" He asked. She has been lying in bed from past three hours with AC on full blast with the blanket pulled over to her ear with her back faced to him.

She was feeling horrible. For having a sudden breakdown whilst he was just trying to work. She did not expected to have this kind of reaction to hear Jamie, his pretend girlfriend and his manager Jeffery, talk shit about her behind her back like that. She has bad that happen to her all her life. This one got to her because those were complete strangers to her with very false assumptions about her. Her mind was racing again.

Maybe she should just...

"YN, talk to me baby." She was interrupted by Harry, she could feel his warmth and weight on her upper bod. Realising he was leaning onto her as if to hug her. He likes his hugs and never compromises on them, but he's heavy even though he appears to be dainty and delicate in person. He's six feet tall for gods sake and her five and half feet body could take so much of that weight.

"You're heavy." She mumbled.

"Oh, I'm sorry." He chuckled moving away just enough so she can trun on her back, "you're feeling okay now?"

"A little." She nodded, earning herself an affectionate kiss on the apple of her cheek.

"You want to come see me then at the show?" He asked, hopeful that she'd go because he's got a tiny surprise for her.

"I don't know." She said hesitantly. "I'm sorry."

"You want to tell me why, hm? Never seen you cry like that before, sugar, is everything okay?" He requested, stressing on the subject a bit more. He knew someone was being rude and mean to her and he needed to know who it was.

"I heard Jamie and Jeffery talking about how I'm taking advantage of you, and I'm hogging all your money. You just don't see that according to them." She blurt out feeling safe to be vulnerable enough to share how she was truly feeling and what and who made her feel that way, "I just don't want to deal with that and please don't say anything to either them. I want to stay in. That really made me upset because somewhere it's the truth."

"Oh my little love," he sighed, "that's not true. No one can tell me what to do with my earnings, you're not hogging all of it, okay? Don't let get to you please? No one can tell you what you feel is wrong or what you do is wrong unless you're not hurting anyone. You're the kindest and sweetest one I've met in painfully long time, I've never once felt that you're taking advantage of me. In fact if it were anyone else they'd probably ask for more than what I have to offer, you put up a fight against me if I try to get you something, that's enough for me to trust you, okay? What we have is not anyone's business to talk about but us."

"Since we're being vulnerable here, I want to tell you that you become very precious to me. I've grown to care about you." He grabbed her hand in a gentle hold, as he pushed her hair out her face with his free hand. "I am sorry for not listening to you here, but I'm going to have a conversation about this with Jeffery. He's my friend doesn't mean he can talk shit about people I care for, okay?"

"Okay." She nodded, "thank you. And I'm sorry. I promise I'll return you every penny I've borrowed once I have a proper job after graduation. And ehm-"

"Don't talk about that." He interrupted her, "now do you still want to stay in here? I was hoping you'd come see me play, Shania Twain is performing with me."

That made her freeze there. She's been obsessed with Shania Twain since she met Harry, he introduced her to the artist and she's never stopped listening to her since. But she'd still rather stay in than even see Jamie's face for saying those disgusting things about her which Harry doesn't know and will never know.

"I'll watch it from here." She suggested, "I just really don't want to go there, want to be alone."

"Okay, I won't force you." He agreed, "you want me to order you something for dinner?"

"I think I'll go out to this restaurant I saw," she shrugged, "before your performance starts."

"You promise you're going to eat?" He asked.

"I promise." She held out her small pinky making him giggle, he wrapped his own around hers and kissed it to seal their promise.

"You got your nails done?" He beamed seeing her red and baby teal blue shade, "even like your makeup and this pretty top you made. You're so talented, baby." He leaned down to pepper her face with sloppy wet kisses, making her giggle, "I am gonna steal it from you."

"I'll make you one so we can match." She suggested.

"Yeah?" He looked at her, "I'd love that, kitten."

"I think you should go before you manager calls you." She reminded him. He dropped his head low sighing, their cheeks touching each other she could feel his stubble poke against her skin.

He didn't wanted to leave her alone!

"Don't wait up for me, okay? I'll leave as soon as I am done." He mumbled before lifting himself up from her finally, press a tender kiss on her mouth and then on the corner of her lips.

"Okay." She nodded.

......................................................................

Harry came back by around half past one, found the bedroom lights in the suite turned off. But he saw a yellowed blue-light of phone illuminating YN's face there as she lied on their shared bed texting.

"Hi lovie, you didn't sleep?" He walked over to her not bothering to turn on the lights and ruin the calm atmosphere she had created in there.

"No, I was talking to Brielle. She said your performance was amazing." YN shared as she sat up and locked her phone when he sat next to her there.

"Thank her from me." He smiled, "I'll go and shower, okay? Be with you in ten."

"Take your time." She said. He was still wearing the outfits he wore whilst performing, "I really like your outfit."

"Thank you baby, I knew you're gonna like it." He beamed glanced down at his outfit once. "Go to bed now, we're going out tomorrow morning."

"Mhmm." She nodded, "I want a kiss."

"C'mere then," with his hand behind her neck he drew her closer to him with a tilt to her head, he connected their mouths together. Keeping it short and sweet for now he pulled away but got a kiss on his cheek. "Is that enough to hold you off till I shower?"

"Mhmm." She nodded again, he pressed another little peck on her mouth before retrieving entirely.

"I'll be back, yeah?" He ran to shower gathering a change of clothes, just a pair of boxers and basketball shorts he liked to wear to bed.

He looked very happy. He sang songs from his new album tonight which she's heard before, he played the album to her after he was fully done by it to get her views on it as she hardly listened to his music. Seeing that dimpled smile of his warmed her heart so much.

She got out of bed to go fetch the little chocolate cake pastries she got for dessert but saved to share it with. She did went out to get dinner, ate some nice Gnocchi, on her way back she stopped at a bakery to get the last slice of chocolate cake. It's been sitting in the mini fridge of the hotel room since. She was proud of herself to say the least for going out on her own and ordering for herself. Ordering her meals or coffee gave her serious anxiety, resulting her to more home cooked meal which took pride in, but when she was feeling shit and didn't wanted to cook she'd just had settle on a pizza she'd order from an application so she wouldn't have to talk to a person on a phone call. She was feeling shit today but still made an effort to go out herself.

"Did you get dinner baby?" He asked as he came out of the shower, towel drying his hair quite vigorously.

"Yes. And I got us cake!" She announced earning a confused glance from him. "What?"

"You really went out?" He asked even though the cake from a bakery was very big evidence she did. "There was nothing charged on my card."

"You gave me your card three months to get you coffee on my way back from errands once and refuse to take back doesn't mean I'm going to use it." She proceeded to take out a slice of cake for herself from the box because it looked so fucking delicious and she couldn't wait, he went back in the bathroom for some reason.

"I gave it to you for the exact reason. Haven't yet got the time to get you one with your name." He sat next to her, dipping his head down he have a kiss on her cheek. "I am so proud of you for going out on your own, sugar." It was the truth. She'd only go out to eat when with him (or her best friend Brielle a handful of times), he ordered for her everytime knowing pretty well she'd rather stall all night that actually talk to a waiter to tell them what she wants to eat at their restaurant.

"Thank you." She smiled. "Did you had your dinner?"

"Mhmm." He nodded, proceeded to ask, "What else did you do today?"

"I stayed in bed and watched you perform. Shania looked so pretty!" She shared. "Also did a little face mask."

"Without me?" A little upset pout took over his lips.

"We can do one tomorrow." She suggested taking his faux-upset look to heart, but he grinned not bothering to correct her adorable concern. She offered him a bite of the cake on the one-time-use wooden spoon which he gladly accepted, she got it for both of them to share. "It's so good, isn't it?" She searched his face for a reaction excitedly.

"It is baby." He agreed. "Too sweet for me though, you can have the rest."

By the time she finished up her cake she filled him with the tea of this on going drama in her friend circle. Apparently one of her classmate got pregnant with the guy who she was cheating on her boyfriend with, now the guy doesn't want to be involved in the scene by all mean and with all his rights and it's created his huge entertaining drama around it. Her friend Brielle takes in huge interest in gossips. And that why even though YN's known the girl her whole life she doesn't tell her more than just a few bullet points with anything Harry and her related. She respects his privacy and doesn't want her friend to go and accidentally spill all the information to everyone. Though she haven't yet told anyone about YN and Harry, which is a good thing that she promises to keep it the same way.

Harry threw her the trash for her watching her mood lifted from earlier today. He did had a talk with Jamie and Jeffery after the show though.

"Oh, I have a few things to show you." YN remembered watching Harry get in bed with her, "where is my phone?" She looked around.

"I don't know?" He looked under the blanket and pillows.

"Maybe I left it outside." She got out of bed and ran out to look for her phone.

Harry didn't know if she really remembers what she's wearing considering it's three in the morning. It was pretty rare for her to prance around like that just in a pair of panties and one of his shirts which is always too large for her somehow. She just runs away to put on a pair of pants when he's around and he respects that though he wouldn't mind.

"I saw this man walking his cat on a leash." She spoke entering the room with her phone in her hands, her pretty face illuminated under the blue light as she searched for something she wants to show him. "I want to train DumDum like this."

"Do you want to get in bed with me first, sweet girl?" He suggested, eyeing her up and down and then up again. Caught. She looked down at her state of clothing, the shirt barely covered her ass.

"I'll go put some pants on, sorry," she kept her phone on the side table in hurry. She didn't mind what she wore, she's grown to love her body, she liked to go to bed properly clothed in respect to Harry when he's around. It might make him uncomfortable, there are chances. She respects his personal space and boundaries like he does.

"It's alright sweet girl, c'mere, it's hot for you to sleep in sweats. I don't mind come on." He urged her. "I'm half naked too."

"Go put a shirt on!" Her fake scold sent him into a fit of laugh that he missed watching her snuggle up next to him. She showed him the pictures and videos she took of the cat she was talking about, apparently he was named Sushi and was there ar the shushi restaurant next to the one YN went to eat Shushi. "He's going to love your song Music For Sushi Restaurant."

"Mhmm, I wrote that so g about him." Harry pointed out, "look he's got green eyes." He zoomed in on the picture of the cat making YN giggled, she locked her phone and kept it away to get under blanket with him. Harry couldn't help but get a peek at the baby blue of her cotton panties she was wearing. He just pulled her in a bear cuddle letting her use his bicep as a pillow wrapping his free arm around her waist. His nose skimming against her, he closed his eyes feeling her soft breaths warm up his skin. "What happened today, won't happen again baby. Not on my watch, okay?"

"I'm okay now." She assured him, "it just hurt in that moment."

"I want you to tell me of it happens again." He said with a firm tone, "won't tolerate it again."

"I will." She pressed a tender kiss with all lovely feelings she has harboured for him during their time together as she proceeded to snuggle into him their cheeks pressed together in feathery contact. She could feel his hand wander lower and lower, over the expanse of her bum and back up sneaking under her shirt a little, it was set into pattern now.

"You're comfortable?" He asked, she knew exactly about what and it had her nodding her head gently. She liked the way he was touching her, it was first but she was already addicted. He's never gone this far ahead touching her affectionately before, so it was pretty intimate for her. Last two days spent with him without going out for work or anything, she felt safe with him. Her fear of chances of him being a secret serial killer had vanished just today though it didn't kill all of her anxiety, it is going to take time for her.

His wandering hand snuck under her shirt feeling adventurous running up her side over her tummy, she suddenly didn't felt uncomfortable with her not-flat stomach. Letting him to whatever was best decision, she decided as it was making all happy feelings having a firework in her skull. It only got more as she felt butterflies floating up to her brain processing brushes of his lips on her neck and shoulder. Feeling tingly in between her legs she squirmed under his touch there.

YN was pushed gently to lay on her back with his hands under her head even though there was a fluffy pillow to protect her. She cracked open her eyes to find him hovering over her, close enough to feel his soft exhales on her skin. His hand still under her shirt slowly creeping up to rest to her ribs closer to the swells of her breast before he stopped. The lack of another layer of clothing under her shirt added just more to his anticipation and cravings of her, even though he's never had in this way before.

"This okay?" He asked, earning just a nod from her, "I'm gonna need words baby, yes or not?"

"Yes." She rushed. A rewarding kiss was pressed on the corner of her mouth as his fingers squeezed gently around her breast. She gasped softly. He rolled over her, making sure to not put any on his weight on her as he managed to fit between thighs. With his knees folded her sat on his knees to look at her.

"Thought you said you didn't brought anything pretty with you," a comment on her baby blue cotton panties had her flushed in a second, "you brought your pretty self." He added with a smirky grin on his face, dimples appearing on his cheek and all. "Do you want to tale this off?" His other hand snuck under her shirt.

"Would you want that?" She asked biting down her lip in anticipation.

"It's not entirely about me, would you want that?" He shook her head, still affectionately caressing her sides.

"I want that." She consented, having him help her slip her arms out of the shirt and have him carefully pull it over her head.

"Hi," he greeted with a chuckle watching her shake her head in attempt to move her hair off her face.

"Hi," she beamed at him.

"You're so pretty baby," he glanced at her longingly before he leaned down to kiss her with more affection, pressing his mouth on her a little too hard but she isn't complaining, "perfect for me, can tell already!" She kissed him back with same affection if not more. "You okay with me loving on you?"

"It is okay." She confessed.

"Yeah?" He was amused and smitten by her in the moment.

Harry left a trail of soft, sloppy wet kissed down her jaw to her neck. Lingering that much longer on her pulse, it was surely going to leave a mark with the way he sucked on her soft skin before he kept down lower and lower. Giving the peaks of her breasts attention, one hand wrapped around one as he wrapped his lips around the peaks of her nipple sucking that little harder each time, rolling the other in between his thumb and forefinger. That alone had her squirming and gasping as she felt the pool of wetness in between her legs grow.

"That's okay, don't hold your pretty sounds back, sugar, lemme hear them." He urged her hearing a soft squeal from her.

"I won't, I won't, please don't stop." She mumbled.

"Wasn't planning on bunny," he looked at her smirking all while searching her face as he let his hands wander even lower between her hands, brush of his fingers over the wet patch on her panties was enough to make her gasp again, louder this time. "Y'like that, sugar?"

"Mhmm, yes!" She nodded throwing her head back as he pressed his fingers harder on her clit, setting a rhythm of circled pattern causing another firework all over her brain. It felt different from the times she does it herself for sure. "More, please!" She requested, pulling him closer with his face cupped in her palms for a kiss. And he gave her more.

"Feel good, sugar?" He asked urging her, his finger tips running soft circles on her clit. "Wanna taste you, baby, would you mind that."

"No," she nodded followed by a soft whimper, "please." Just on request he pushed himself up so sit on his heels as he pulled down her panties. Taking a moment to look at her as she was lied there in layered in dreamy haze. He definitely did not expected this even though he started it but he isn't going to complain. He moved them both so he was now kneeling on the floor as he tugged her down with his hands wrapped from under her thighs. Without saying anything he started with pressing sloppy wet kisses up her skin. Hearing little whimpers of request for him to stop teasing, not giving into her begging he threw her legs over his shoulders to reach of her hand and intertwine their fingers together. He pushed her thighs apart licking a bold stripe over her clit before he was going down to her slit having her already shuddering under his touch. Pressing his mouth on the full of her pussy with the shake of his head making her clench her thighs around his head.

Propping herself on her elbows to look at his ministrations he wasn't going to stop anytime soon, nor she wanted him to. He saw him glancing up at with his mouth still attached to her core, with his free arm flexing which could only tell that he's jerking himself. That just edged her closer to her high. His humming of pleasure sending waves of vibration down her spin making her let slip her own moans.

"Are you going to cum, baby?" He asked pulling away just enough before diving back in the sweetness he seemed to be already addicted to. He was in complete sense of euphoria, buried in between her legs being the best decision he's made.

"Yes! Oh, Harry!" She let out her little whimpers.

"Yeah? Cum for me baby," he urged her, "lemme taste it, you taste so good!" His tongue lapping over her slick pussy he guided her through her high, hearing her little soft whimpers of pleasure. Sucking at her slit as his nose nudged against her clit with a particular hard shake of his mouth. He proceeded to lick her clean telling her how good of a girl he was for him. He could have a go again if she'd let him, but he pulled away with a last firm kiss placed on her clit before he rose up to check on her. He lied there like an angel falled right from heaven with her chest heaving, eyes shuttered closed in bliss. He leaned over to press a kiss on her cheek to get her attention.

"You doing alright baby?" He asked.

"Mhmm." She nodded, leaning into him being fond of the closeness she felt with him in that moment, it was very different than she's used to but god she didn't want it to end.

"Did so good, m'good girl you are." He praised her. His nose skimming against her before he placed his lips against her. She could taste herself which the natural taste of him she was grown so familiar with, but she pulled away with his face cupped in between the plams of her hands

"Did you finish?" She asked.

"You saw me, didn't you?" He smirked pressing on the tip of her nose he rested his forehead on hers, "I didn't. But don't worry about me now, tonight is about you, my little love."

"I want to help you." She urged him, "only if you let me." She felt his chest heave as he took in a long breathe as if he was contemplating. "Please?"

"Yeah? You want to help me?" He asked earning a sound of hum from her, "can I cum on your tummy then, don't want you to do anything while you're so tired."

"Uh-huh!" She nodded, "want you to feel good."

"Move up for me then, baby." He urged her to move up on the mattress, she did exactly watching him shimmy off his boxers and shorts fully before he managed to fit himself in between her thighs just like he was not even five minutes ago before he pulled her to the edge of their shared bed. "You sure you want this, baby?"

"I want it." She said, softly with a jerky nod of her head desperate to see him feel the same he saw her feel. It took everything in her to not touch him, especially when he hasn't given her his consent to do so as she watched him wrap his fingers around his cock, sliding his hand up and down slowly. YN looked up at him with her lip buried under her teeth. "Are you close?"

"So close," he shared, deep rumble of moans left his kiss swollen lips as he jerked himself over her. YN felt butterflies in her tummy all over again, wanting so badly to help but he won't let her touch him in anyway. She needed to find a way to urge him like he did.

"I want you to cum for me, Harry." She said, resting her hand over his which he had propped on the full of her thigh, running her palm up and down his forearm. "Are you going to?"

"Fuck yes, baby!" He moaned as his eyes shuttered closed. He couldn't help the smile taking over his lips as he heard her speak those words.

"Look at me, Harry!" She demanded, with all her rights making him instantly follow her words. He sat back on his heels as his fucked his own hand looking at her. Just the sight of her lied there bare had his cum spurring out with couple of hard strokes of his hand, landing right in between valley of her breasts.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum." He told her.

"Please cum for me." He urged him more, lacing fingers of his free hand with her. Enough for him to cum all over her making a mess of both of them until his cock went soft in his hand with heavy and breathy moans filling their room. With a soft tug at his hand she pulled over her as soon as he was done, pressing soft and lazy kisses on his cheek. "Made me cum so hard, baby, thank you."

A soft chuckle left her own kiss swollen lips, "it's two ways, right? You made me feel good too."

"Mhmm," he nodded.

"I want to help you next time like you helped me." She shared, "please?" Just the mention of a next time made Harry want to go at it again, but she looked tired, really tired he could tell by the tone of her voice.

"I promise, my love." He agreed. "Come on, let's take a quick shower then we can get dressed and go to bed. Got you all tired, didn't I?"

"Yeah!"

With his arm's wrapped around her waist he picked up with no efforts as made a way to their en suite bathroom. He carefully placed her on her wobbly feet stealing in a few tender kisses from her mouth.

"Need to get us a change of clothes, go on and get in first I will join you, okay baby?" He suggested earning an upset pout from her, "promise won't take long." He kissed her pout away before he stepped away and stepped out of bathroom reminding her, "make sure you take a wee too."

His casualness made her shudder in cringe on herself. How and why did she find that weird, whilst it's something important she does? He casualness wasn't something she found cringey but the feeling that took over her. But brushing it away she did what he said so and got into shower settings the water to luke warm even though she's used to taking burning hot showers. In no time Harry was joining her like he promised and helped her clean up the mess he made of the pair of them, making sure to give her extra kisses and praises.

"Harry?" She spoke as he wrapped a towel around her before her wrapped one around his hips.

"Hmm?" He sounded, proceeding to dry her off so she wouldn't catch a cold, "what is it lovie?"

"That was my first time being intimate with anyone." She confessed, with a hint of fear she might upset him for something.

"You didn't tell me?" He stopped dead on his tracks, "why baby?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I'm sorry, I should've."

"You should've told me, yeah," he agreed resuming his work of drying her off, "but I should've asked you. And it's okay."

"You didn't know."

"I know baby, but I started it, didn't I?" He sighed.

"Did I make you upset?"

"No, but I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable in anyway." He shared, leaving the towel draped over her shoulders as he reached for the pair of panties he got for her from her suitcase. He crouched, "step in."

"You didn't," she told him as she stepped into the pair of clothing and watched him pull it up her thighs to her waist, "you made me feel so safe."

"I did?"

"Mhmm." She nodded watching him reach for his hoodie he got got her, "I don't quite feel comfortable with myself, but I felt it with you. I should've told you." His shoulders deflated hearing her words, it was quite emotional thing for her he could tell and she isn't the most open person he's met but at least she's telling him the truth now. And he's glad he didn't gave into her begging of wanting to help him like he did. They can go slow if she wanted to do anything like that again.

"Precious, look at me." He set her up on the counter top next to the sink and stood in between her thighs, "thank you so much for telling me the truth." He started, his hands warming the sides of her hips, "I don't know how I feel, but it's okay, just need you to know that you can tell me anything next time when we're doing something intimate. Now I wanna everything. You said it's two ways, right?"

"Mhmm."

"Then that's how it's going to be." He stated quite firmly yet with tender feeling towards her, "like I told you, you're very precious and wouldn't want to do anything-even unintentionally- to hurt you, my love, okay?"

"Okay, I will." She agreed on it, earning the prettiest smile and a gentle kiss from him. "I don't want it." She refused watching him bunch up the hoodie he got for her to the neckline.

"Why not baby?"

"I want to cuddle close to you." She shared.

"You sure, you won't be cold?"

"No," she shook her head. He put on his own boxers before he was picking her up again, her legs wrapped around his hips and arms draped around his shoulders. He whispered his sweet nothings to her making a way back out with their half bare selves, as her soft giggles filled their room. He lied her down gently on their shared bed joining her closely. Wrapping her in duvet.

"Good night, sugar." He kissed her temple.

"Good night." She whispered snuggling as humanly close to him as possible.

......................................................................

The morning after was nothing but sweet and tender for YN, she was woken up by soft whispers from Harry. A huge breakfast in bed, and even bigger snuggle sesh as they watched her favourite show before getting into a warm bath together in the afternoon and get ready for the evening.

Harry took her to the Billie Eilish merch shops, bought her almost every single item they had to offer despite her little protests, and extra pair of sweats and crewneck for her best friend as her birthday present from both of them. They spent their time watching few of his favourite artists playing all the while without catching anyone's attention with Jamie and Jeffery with them. YN found it very weird as anywhere Jamie goes they have camera's following them but she wasn't complaining.

"Harry, can we go out to get dinner?" She suggested on their way back to their hotel.

"Where do you want to go, baby?" He asked, opening the door for her with his free hand as he held the bags with her new clothes, be let her in first.

"I don't know, I feel like eating rice cakes." She shared.

"Yeah? We can go to my favourite Korean restaurant then." He set her bags down by her duffle bag which was spilling out with stuff she had carelessly stuffed inside.

They just did that. Alone they both went to get dinner like their first night in LA. She taught Harry how to use chopsticks, laughing as she watched him still struggle. He stuck to using fork and spoon as they ate. They ordered a few desserts which Harry hardly ate from before they headed back to Coachella to watch Billie perform.

"You didn't eat any dessert." She pointed out as he walked just behind her, "we could have ordered something you like?"

"What if I tell you, I want my sugar for dessert, hm?" He leaned in closer to her ear, "tasted you once can already rell you're the sweetest dessert there's ever going be." He whispered, making goosebumps take over her skin.

"I don't mind that."

"I know you don't," he cooed, "would take you back with me now but we're here for you, aren't we? Unless you want to go back to our hotel."

"We can wait." She said, firmly, not wanting to give into his teasing even though she could feel those same tingles in between her legs as last night. Harry didn't said anything as they proceeded to walk towards the VIP area to watch her favourite singer.

It was a bummer Harry wasn't her favourite singer, but he's certainly her favourite in other ways.

YN had to walk next to Jeffery and Glenn as Jamie and Harry walked together. She was already craving the warmth of his palm against her watching his hand wrapped around someone elses. Yes, she felt the tinge of jealousy creep up in her mind and heart even though everything was just for show. It wasn't until a few songs in YN felt Harry tugging towards him to make her stand right in front of him as he wrapped his arms around smaller frame, she felt a soft press of his lips on her head through the hood she had up oh her head. Now that made that teeny bit jealousy go away for a second before she noticed Jamie was stood right next to him.

"Do you not want to take videos?" Harry wondered.

"Oh yeah," she realised as she fished out her phone from her pocket, and turned on the video to later send it to her friend and post it on her stories and keep it back in her pocket to enjoy the moment in person. Harry still had her caged in between his arms, their fingers intertwined together. YN brought their hands upto her lips before placing a soft kiss on the back of his hands before placing the bundle of their hands over her chest, letting his sway them both to the soft music of Ocean Eyes now playing.

Harry pushed her closer to him with his hand on her chest, holding flush against his own. "Gimme a kiss." His voice soft, just for the two of them.

"We're out." She reminded him. She cared for his public image. And to the public he was dating Jamie and if anyone saw him kissing her, he'd be a cheater which she would never want for him.

"I don't give a fuck, now gimme a kiss or I might die because of lack of kisses from my baby." He said, as dramatically as he could making her giggle before she turned her head to look at him. He dipped his head down desparately to button his mouth of her, he turned her around so he can indulge in the contact better.

He had her wrapped up in his arms for entire time they were there. His heart felt full whenever he is with her and that's what he wanted her to feel until Jeffery had to drive buldozer of his bullshit over their sweet time together saying people have started to notice he's not close to Jamie but someone else and had escorted them out of there.

YN felt so hurt, she was really just someone else? Why wouldn't his team address her like a human being but as if she's some weird mutated creature Harry liked to be around? She walked beside Glenn watching Jamie take a hold of Harry's hand, even proceeding to cling to his arms giggling her way out at something Jeffery said. She could see Harry's face as he walked ahead of her this time.

Jamie has been doing nothing but plaguing their time together. Worse part was thar Harry gave into it, even though he's obliged to do so. Not even just now but it's been like this since a month after Harry met her and he had to get into this pr relationship, it was very annoying from day one. Especially since Jamie hated her for apparently no reason at all. And so did Harry's team, especially his manager.

Well, YN didn't had any right to be that upset it's not like she's his girlfriend. She's just someone's he basically pays to hang with him throwing away the fact that she would do all this without any conditions because she fallen in love with him. You don't put any conditions in front of a person you love so much.

Love is always supposed to be unconditional, she knew that.

She brushed it off and decided to walk ahead and get in the car in back seat knowing very well she'll be told to do so when Harry's driving, there are paps called outside and many screaming fans stood there with their cameras out. Harry drove off to their hotel, everyone annoyingly stayed at the same hotel.

YN still walked ahead and stook the stairs instead not wanting paps to even click even a single picture of her. As a college student with almost all of her batch being Harry's fan was mot going to make her life any easier than it already is. But she truly felt bad. Be isn't going to back off his backend deal with the movie he worked in for some girl he met more more than half year ago and pays for her college for her. That's some weird ass shit she thought is going on there. All her life she's felt unwanted and worthless and being around his people makes it even worse even when he insists he wants her in his life.

She one stupid to fall for him.

She reached the fourth floor huffing and puffing looking through her phone to distract her mind from wandering from streets to gutters. She bumped into Harry stood there with his arms crossed over his chest, an upset look over his features.

"Why didn't you get in the lift?" He asked her.

"I didn't wanted any pictures taken of me on accident." She said walking down the corridor to their shared room. He followed her like lost little puppy trying to keep up with her fast footsteps.

"Hey, what's wrong love? I'm sorry we had to leave early." He cooed trying to still catch upto her, he hated how down far their room was, "she's performing next weekend too we can stay till the very end, sugar!" Finally they came to their room and YN tried to open the door with spare key card she had, but struggled to do so with her vision blurred out by her tears. Harry calmly took the key from and opened the door leading her in he shut the door behind them making sure to lock it. He walked her inside and made her sit on their bed and took a seat on the yellow ottoman in front of her.

"What's wrong?" He asked again.

"I don't know." She shook her head, pulling her hand away from his grip.

"I know you know when you say that," he sighed, "what made you this upset, my love? Why are you crying?" He waited patiently for her answer his concerns but she didn't, she's very stubborn when it comes to sharing her feelings. "If you don't tell me what's wrong then how I'm gonna help you fix it?"

"I don't know."

"You want me to assume what happened?" He asked even though he had no assumptions about what must went down.

"I don't know."

"YN c'mon stop being stubborn, baby, I'm tryin' to figure out what got you all upset when you were so happy." His shoulders slumped in defeat, he ran a heavy hand over his face and through his hair. "Fine if you're not going tell me."

"I wasn't." She deadpanned. A heavy sigh he released calmed him down.

"What are you upset about, my love?" He asked, again, with much more patience than before.

"It's embarrassing." She shook her head, dismissing the thought of wanting to share that she's jealous of his pretend girlfriend because she's fallen head over heels for him after he'd shown just some affection towards her.

"You know I would never judge you," he cooed to her, reassuring her as took a gentle hold of her hands. Still amused by how much smaller her hands were in compare to his, they fit perfectly in his like that last piece puzzle. "Did Jamie or anyone said anything mean to you again?"

"No," she looked down at their joined hands in her lap.

"Are you upset we left early?"

"I didn't liked the way Jeffery had us escorted back to hotel because he saw people were starting to, to notice us, us sharing a kiss." She stuttered through her little complain, "I, I don't like it when she's around whenever we're out and I have to be pretend I'm not someone to you."

"But you're everything to me." He confessed, "and I mean it. I am really sorry you feel that way, sugar. I promise we're going out when she's not around, yeah? It is just going to be us, I promise."

"You do?" She asked.

"Mhmm, I do." He nodded, "see it was that easy to fix this, didn't need to cry on this." He wiped off her tears from her face, holding both her hands in one of his as if she's going to run away. "Did you get jealous of Jamie hogging all of our alone time?"

"I did." She cemented, without any hesitation glaring at him for his unnecessary teasing in the moment.

"I'm sorry," he rushed, "but you do know I don't even look at her, don't you? You know I'm coming back to you at the end kf the day, don't you?" He wasn't even trying to conceal the little he'd harboured on her now. Not when their alone time being invaded made her that upset for her to shed tears. "You've got nothing to worry about you know that, don't you?"

She gave him another jerky nod of her head, "mhmm, I know."

"Then gimme me a hug now." He dropped her hands just so he can wrap him up in his arms, she had hers tucked in between them. He even peppered the exposed skin of her face with as many kisses as he could.

Tag list:

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @sweetwritingfanficfriend @theroosterswife24 @sleutherclaw @melllinaa Lemme know if you want to added to the tag list

[anonymoushouseplantfan]

The Royal Family’s Apology for their treatment of Meghan Markle:

I’m sorry we spent £32 million on your heavily promoted wedding 

I’m sorry The King stepped in to walk you down the aisle 

I’m sorry we spent £1 million on your first-year wardrobe 

I’m sorry you only undertook 72 days of royal work

I’m sorry we gifted you and your husband the titles of The Duke and Duchess of Sussex, Earl and Countess of Dumbarton and Baron and Baroness Kilkeel

I’m sorry we spent £4 million-a-year on your security

I’m sorry we hid your alarmingly shady past from the public 

I’m sorry we covered up your rampant bullying of young professional women and then covered up the results of the bullying investigation in order to protect you

I’m sorry we gifted you an 11-room house on the Windsor estate, for free

I’m sorry we footed the £3.2 million bill to renovate your house to your liking

I’m sorry we granted you the honour of marrying in the historic Royal Chapel at Windsor Castle

I’m sorry we gave you your own independent team of staff

I’m sorry we appointed you your own adviser and assistant to make the transition to royal easier

I’m sorry you were the first girlfriend to be invited to spend Christmas at Sandringham with Queen Elizabeth II and family

I’m sorry The Queen invited you to a theatre charity less than four weeks after marrying H - the earliest ever joint engagement with The Queen

I’m sorry we invited you to the funeral of the longest-serving monarch in British history after you continued to slander everything she ever worked for in multiple interviews and podcasts

I’m sorry we granted you, an American, your own coat of arms from the 500-year-old College of Arms

I’m sorry we didn’t silence you by making you sign any NDAs, allowing you to sign multi-million-dollar deals for books, interviews and podcasts

I’m sorry we’re the reason George Clooney, Oprah Winfrey and Elton John pretended to like you

I’m sorry we gave you the opportunity to co-write a cookbook, guest edit British Vogue, and ‘curate’ your own fashion capsule. 

I’m sorry we advised you twice not to wear those blood diamonds gifted by Jamal Khashoggi’s murderer

I’m sorry our support made you feel emboldened to behave appallingly towards staff and ticket-holders at Wimbledon

I’m sorry your behaviour on the Oceania tour angered your hosts and we covered it up by encouraging positive coverage from the press

I’m sorry we invited you to The Queen’s Platinum Jubilee after you’d called us all racist abusers on international television

I’m sorry we thought you’d like to be patron of the UK’s National Theatre, we didn’t realise you’re not interested in the theatre

I’m sorry nobody stopped you from wearing a maternity coat and announcing your 8-week pregnancy at the wedding of your husband’s cousin

I’m sorry you publicly announced your first pregnancy on Infant Loss Awareness Day

I’m sorry we lied to the press about the existence of the nude pictures you took of yourself, easily available on the internet

I’m sorry we let you live free-of-charge in a two-bedroom London property while the free five-bedroom country house we gave you was renovated

I’m sorry we introduced you to world leaders, high-ranking officials and A-list celebrities

I’m sorry we helped perpetuate your lie that your degree was in ‘international relations and theatre’ and not ‘communications’

I’m sorry for all the jewellery we gifted you, including a pair of expensive pearl earrings from Queen Elizabeth II

I’m sorry we helped perpetuate your lie that you worked at the US Embassy in Argentina for several months instead of attending classes at the Embassy school organised by the uncle you didn’t invite to the wedding

I’m sorry we loaned you the use of a historic diamond-encrusted tiara

I’m sorry we took an interest in what colour your future yet-to-be-conceived baby’s hair would be

I’m sorry we permitted you to only allow American press to the unveiling of your first child in Windsor Castle, as requested, instead of British press 

I’m sorry we helped cover up that you worked with the authors of Finding Freedom

I’m sorry for allowing you to keep all those freebies you’re definitely not allowed to keep

I’m sorry your husband, a prince, didn’t explain how to courtesy to The Queen 

I’m sorry we acquiesced to you inviting celebrities you’d never met before to your wedding

I’m sorry we didn’t clamp down on you monetising your official royal engagements

I’m sorry we respected your boundaries by not hugging on first meeting

I’m sorry we allowed you to mistakenly believe you were more popular than Catherine and William

I’m sorry for providing a team of highly-trained, expensive doctors at your disposal

I’m sorry we funded a household staff of cooks, cleaners and nannies for you

I’m sorry nobody asked if you’re okay.

So sorry about all that.

😂😂😂😂

[geek-fashionista]

A Business Proposal

A little while ago, I posted an interest poll for a series I'm planning. Since many of you responded that you were at least curious, I come today with... limited information. Limited, because the novel version of this series is currently being read by a literary agent.

But I've always felt that this story was too big to be contained in book format. Under a traditional publisher, I would lose the rights to my own property, so if they didn't want to see more of it, that's that for myself and the characters and the readers who fall in love with the characters. Self-publishing is harder. It needs to be a collaborative effort between writer and readers if it's going to succeed. Thus, I turn to the only audience I have with my "business proposal."

(Note: If you've been around long enough, you might recognize some of these characters from posts that have since been deleted.)

~*~

Working Title: Trainwrecks Length of Series: 8 seasons Length of Seasons: 24 episodes, 12 main and 12 bonus, posted biweekly. (Each season will last three months.) Episode Length: 1000-2000 words Setting: Seattle, Washington and its surrounding towns, between the years 2004-2015 Genre: Contemporary, YA to New Adult

Trainwrecks follows a diverse group of six best friends from high school to their mid-twenties, with all the romance, heartache, college and career decisions, and confusion that entails. Our main cast:

A bubbly, fat Puerto Rican girl with a passion for art and matchmaking (Ages: 14-25)

Her adopted, Argentinian brother, who is adept at music and pretty much nothing else (Ages: 16-27)

Their childhood best friend, an Asian/British/American guy who hides years of trauma behind a flamboyant and overbearing personality (Ages: 19-30)

His ill-tempered younger sister, who has just moved back to the United States from London after their parents divorced fifteen years ago (Ages: 14-25)

An equally bad-tempered Hawaiian/French guy with a love of photography and a hatred of bullies (Ages: 14-25)

The coolest, most beautiful Chinese girl you'll ever meet, who is fighting a sex addiction after a history of abuse (Ages: 16-27)

Main episodes will be written in story format. Bonus episodes will be in epistolary format: MSN chats, text messages, letters, blog posts, and eventually Twitter posts. Y'know, cuz Twitter didn't exist in 2004.

The main series (8 seasons, 24 episodes each) will be completely free to read and delivered directly to your email inbox. There will be character artwork, a bio page to keep track of everyone, a tie-in Tumblr account for memes, Spotify playlists for each character, and helpful things like family trees and relationship charts as well. Each season will have its own key artwork---cover art, if you will.

In addition to the completely free story, there will be extra content for paid subscribers and Patreon patrons, including but not limited to:

Sneak previews/early updates

Side stories

Back stories

Character and universe development notes

Entire AUs with different relationships or different genres

Money raised will either go towards paying artists or towards my student loans. And if the series gets really popular, I intend to launch a Kickstarter for physical copies that will include all the artwork and maybe some bonus items as well.

That's my business proposal. If you like it or have questions, comment on this post, scream in my inbox, chat me---do whatever but do it vocally because I need to know you're out there. And then, feel free to follow my Substack for updates.

[longlistshort]

Sarah Meyohas, “Interference #19”, 2023, Holograms, mirrored black glass, aluminum

Georgia O’Keeffe, “Poppy”, 1927, Oil on canvas

Francis Picabia “The Church of Montigny, Effect of Sunlight” 1908, Oil on canvas (left); Christian Sampson “Projection Painting”, 2023, Acrylic and films with LED light; and Claude Monet “The Houses of Parliament, Effect of Fog, London” 1904, Oil on canvas (right)

The Nature of Art exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts St. Petersburg merges art from the museum’s collection with loaned works to explore- “art’s crucial role in our evolving quest to understand our relationship with nature and our place in the cosmos”.

One of the benefits of an encyclopedic museum is that visitors have the opportunity to experience art throughout history, and to revisit works that resonate with them. For the section titled Artist as Curator, Sarah Meyohas and Christian Sampson chose pieces from the museum’s collection to pair with their own work.

From the museum-

At first glance, perhaps, these may seem like unusual combinations, but upon deeper contemplation, their selections reveal complementary artistic intents. For instance, Meyohas and Georgia O’Keeffe share an interest in close looking, particularly in finding new ways to examine underappreciated aspects of the natural world. Sampson, influenced by the California Light and Space Movement, is interested in current scholarship that suggests the hazy fog found in Claude Monet’s work is an early depiction of air pollution, offering an entirely new perspective on the artist’s representations of light.

Sampson also created the four-part installation, Tempus volat, hora fugit, on view until 2025 at the museum.

Below are some of the works from additional sections of the exhibition.

Postcommodity, “kinaypikowiyâs”, 2021, Four 30.5-metre industrial debris booms

Postcommodity is an interdisciplinary art collective comprised of Cristóbal Martínez (Genizaro, Manito, Xicano), and Kade L. Twist (Cherokee).

About Postcommodity’s work, kinaypikowiyâs, (seen above) from the museum-

This work is composed of debris booms, used to catch and hold environmental contaminants such as garbage, oil, and chemicals. The colors of the booms correspond to different types of threats— red (flammable), yellow (radioactive), blue (dangerous), and white (poisonous)-in the labeling system for hazardous materials. To indigenous peoples, these are shared medicine colors that carry knowledge, purpose and meaning throughout the Western Hemisphere. Suspended like hung meat, the booms represent a snake that has been chopped into four parts. Each part represents an area of the colonial map of the Western Hemisphere: South America, Central America, North America, and all of the surrounding islands. The title, kinaypikowiyâs, is a Plains Cree word, meaning snake meat. Divided by borders, Postcommodity asserts that all people living in the Americas are riding on the back of this snake.

James Casebere, “Landscape with Houses (Dutchess County, NY), 2009, Archival pigment print mounted to Dibond

James Casebere creates architecturally based models for the large scale photographs seen above.

Duke Riley's Reclaimed ocean plastic sculptures and “Tidal Fool” wallpaper

Duke Riley’s work, which was previously shown at Brooklyn Museum, addresses issues of environmental pollution by using discarded plastics found in the ocean and other waterways to create new work inspired by the past. You can hear him discuss his work in this video.

From the museum-

Inspired by the maritime museum displays he saw while a child growing up in New England, Riley’s scrimshaw series is a cutting observation of capitalist economies-historic and today-that endanger sea life. The sculptures were created for the fictional Poly S. Tyrene Memorial Maritime Museum, and are contemporary versions of sailors’ scrimshaw, or delicately ink-etched whale teeth and bone. Riley first thought about using plastic as an ode to scrimshaw when he saw what he thought was a whale bone washed up on the beach in Rhode Island; it turned out to be the white handle of a deck brush. Riley regularly removes trash from beaches and waterways, and often uses this refuse in his work.

Riley collaborated with Brooklyn-based Flavor Paper to create these two custom wallpapers for his solo exhibition DEATH TO THE LIVING, Long Live Trash at the Brooklyn Museum. Tidal Fool exhibits Riley’s trademark humor in the face of devastating water pollution; notice the Colt 45-guzzling mermaid. Wall Bait vibrantly references Riley’s meticulous fishing lures, which he crafts from refuse found in the waters around New York City.

Daniel Lind-Ramos,"Centinelas de la luna nueva (Sentinels of the New Moon)", 2022-2023, Mixed media

From the museum about this work-

In Centinelas de la luna nueva, he evokes the elders of the mangroves, spiritual beings who watch over and ensure the health of this essential coastal tree. Mangroves are the basis for a complex ecosystem that shelters sea life and serves as the first line of defense in the tropical storms that batter the sub-tropics -including Florida.

Lind-Ramos's practice reflects the vibrant culture of his native Loíza, Puerto Rico, by honoring local agriculture, fishing, cooking, and masquerade. His sculptures also evoke Hurricane Maria (2017), the COVID-19 pandemic, and ongoing environmental degradation. Lind-Ramos is committed to the survival and sustenance of Afro-Taíno traditions and people of the Puerto Rican archipelago. However, his art engages the global community through shared emotions, parallel histories, and the commonality of human experience.

The next post will discuss two other artists in the exhibition, Brookhart Jonquil and Janaina Tschäpe.

[opera-ghosts]

Nipper and His Master’s Voice

The famous Nipper picture as revised for the Gramophone Company, from an oleograph

For much of the 20th century, one of the world’s most famous trade marks was a picture of a small terrier staring into the brass trumpet of a primitive gramophone.  “His Master’s Voice” read the caption.

The picture was painted, probably in 1898, by the Huguenot artist Francis Barraud; the dog, ‘Nipper’ (he tended to nip people’s legs), had belonged to his elder brother Mark but was inherited by Francis on Mark’s death.  Nipper himself had died, in 1895, before the picture was painted.  Originally, the dog was shown listening to a cylinder phonograph, on which the user could record his own voice; thus, Nipper could have heard the voice of his master emerging from the trumpet.  As Gramophones played only pre-recorded discs, a dog could hear only a master who happened to be a recording artist.

The story goes that Barraud offered his picture to the Edison Bell company (responsible for the phonograph in question), but they rather sniffily turned their nose up at the idea.  Then a friend suggested that Barraud improve the picture with one of the brass horns used by the new Gramophone Company, so the artist approached them at their offices in Maiden Lane, off the Strand, for the loan of a brass horn to copy.  “Yes, certainly”, was their response, “and if you replace the phonograph with a Gramophone, we will buy the picture.”

The Gramophone Company took delivery of the revised picture in October 1899; they paid Barraud £100 (£50 for the painting and £50 for the Copyright).   Barraud had copyrighted the original painting in February 1899.  No one knew what sort of phonograph was in that picture, until in 1972 the late Frank Andrews, of the City of London Phonograph & Gramophone Society (CLPGS), realised that Barraud’s copyright application would have been accompanied by a photograph. Searching through a box of applications in the Public Record Office in Chancery Lane, he found that photograph, showing the dog in front of an Edison Bell phonograph with a rather ungainly black horn.  An illustrated booklet was published in 1973, The Story of ‘Nipper’ and the ‘His Master’s’ Voice Picture, written by Leonard Petts, then archivist at EMI, with assistance from Frank Andrews.

Francis Barraud talked of how “It suddenly occurred to me that to have my dog listening to the phonograph, with an intelligent and rather puzzled expression, and call it ‘His Master’s Voice’, would make an excellent subject” but recently two possible sources for the title, at least, have been put forward in For the Record,* the journal of the CLPGS.  In 1888 a painting was exhibited by Sir William Orchardson called Her Mother’s Voice. It is in the Tate Gallery, a typical Victorian narrative picture of a widower listening to his daughter singing and reminding him of her mother.  A more probable source is an engraving which appeared in the magazine Black & White in 1891, of a scene in which members of the Browning Society listened, a year after the poet’s death, to a recording of his voice. It was captioned ‘Listening to the Master’s Voice’. Barraud is likely to have been aware of this scene (its title might in turn have been inspired by the Orchardson picture).  (*FtR 52, 2014 and 76, 2020)

In 1950, a party from EMI, with two members of the Barraud family, went to a courtyard in Kingston-upon-Thames where it was said that Nipper had been buried.  Excavations near the stump of a mulberry tree in what was now a garage parking area revealed no bones that could be definitely identified as those of Nipper, but the site, then behind a bank, is widely regarded as Nipper’s resting place.

The picture, without its title, was registered by The Gramophone Company as a Trade Mark in December 1900 (it had been registered in the USA in July by Emile Berliner, the inventor of the Gramophone).  In later years, up to his death in 1924, Francis Barraud was engaged to paint copies of the picture for the Company’s various offices; the original remained in the EMI boardroom for many years, and close inspection shows the pentimenti where the phonograph was overpainted.  The picture was reproduced in Gramophone Company publicity from the outset, but did not replace their existing ‘Recording Angel’ trade mark.  In the USA, the Victor Talking Machine Company, which was affiliated to the Gramophone Co, made more use of it as a trade mark. The two firms divided the world between them (Victor supplied the Americas and Far East; Gramophone supplied Europe and the British Empire apart from Canada) and thus Nipper and the Gramophone became a worldwide emblem very quickly.  Ultimately, it was the British company which used it most prominently, for when a court decided in 1910 that the word Gramophone was no longer a proprietary name, the company registered the picture with the title ‘His Master’s Voice’ and the title alone as Trade Marks. ‘His Master’s Voice’ then became their brand name. It was a clumsy epithet, but public usage soon abbreviated it to HMV, as eventually, after WW2, did the company.

Take-overs, sell-offs and globalisation of products caused EMI to drop the Nipper trade mark by the end of the 20th century, and it was sold to the newly independent HMV shops in 2003.

The famous Nipper picture as revised for the Gramophone Company, from an oleograph

Nipper (photograph by Barraud, Liverpool and Oxford Street, London)

The original picture, with a phonograph, as shown in Barraud’s copyright photograph of 1899 (National Archives: Copy 1/147)

His Master’s Voice, cartoon by Victor Gillam, 1903; already, the picture was well enough known to attract a political cartoonist.

Blue plaque at 126 Piccadilly, London, the location of Francis Barraud’s studio in 1899

Nipper needle tins, 1902-1960; the embossed tin (top left) is the earliest, 1902-3.  Top right is a cardboard packet from WW1, and bottom right, one of the many ‘clones’, mainly from overseas, trying to cash in on the dog’s popularity without infringing the trade mark

Copyright Christopher Proudfoot 12 March 2024 via huguenotmuseum.org

FRANCIS BARRAUD (1856-1924) English artist with a version of His Master's Voice painting which he originally completed in 1899

[veryace-ficrecs]

Ted Lasso fic recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Wings Wouldn't Help You Down by ViolentlyRed - Rated G

He thought the most awkward thing he'd have to endure was a rigid Roy Kent embrace in the Man City locker room months ago. He was wrong. And he’s getting better at admitting when he’s wrong, so. Turning up on Coach's doorstep at two thirty in the morning was infinitely, infinitely more awkward. Or, Jamie's hurt and not about to say much about it, and Ted's a good coach.

Reset With the Sunset by fandomfrolics - Rated G

Sam tries to figure out how to navigate his first Ramadan in the English Premier League. Set in S1.

Mull River Shuffle by bibliothekara - Rated G

Ted falls in the Thames; Beard, Rebecca, and Sam to the rescue.

The First Rule of Fight Club is No Fight Club by Lolapola - Rated T

A few days after relegation, an angry investor pays a visit to the Richmond AFC locker room, and he has his sights set on Ted Lasso. Fortunately, Roy Kent has been well and truly won over by now, and - yeah. He's not about to stand for this.

Diary by TwoAces - Rated G

It’s not a diary, really. At least, not in the traditional sense. It’s supposed to be an appointment book—a gift from Keeley, so she’s not having to text him reminders all the time. He’s promised to use it, and is surprised that it’s actually mad convenient to help remember events, so he starts using it for other things, too.

that mask will never look the same by tensecond_memory - Rated T

“Right. Okay. Is that… it?” “No, actually,” she says after a beat in which she fights back another wave of that mysterious Guilty Face, “there’s one more discussion on the agenda courtesy of one Coach Ted Lasso,” her voice is quieter now, and suddenly something shifts in the air and it feels like she’s the one who’s turned back into a scolded child. Jamie stares at her. “There are some… specifics regarding the… premature termination of your loan last season that Ted, rightfully, believes you deserve to be informed of, now that we’re all more aware of how the decision impacted your well-being,” OR Jamie isn't the only one who owes some apologies.

Little Kitmen Have Big Ears by andrealyn - Rated T

Most people don't really notice when Will's in the room, which leads to him hearing some very unique conversations. Every now and again, though, he's seen and it makes all the difference.

we're not in kansas anymore (we're now in missouri) by ceterum - Rated G

Shortly after the devastating loss on final matchday, the West London’s Finest are back in action. After a compilation of their… innovative plays goes viral, they are invited to play a friendly against Ted Lasso’s home state’s MLS club. AFC Richmond’s pre-season one(-and-a-half)-stop American tour, as observed by Trent Crimm, The Independent.

Adding Steel To The Team by BrittaTheBest - Rated T

“I feel… really weird, Roy.” “Yeah, I’m not surprised. Listen, I think you should lie down, yeah?” - Quick little fic. Ted is stabbed outside Richmond the night before a match. Mostly Roy-centric, but also feat. the rest of the club

Journalism Continues To Be The Villain That Moves The Plot Forward For This Show by MagpieWords - Rated T

When the press finds out Ted uses an unknown intramuscular substance, speculation runs wild while our favorite coach avoids dealing with his feelings. alternate titles lovingly include : "lost in the sauce" and "a saucy misunderstanding"

The Official AFC Richmond TikTok by mariip - Rated T

Keeley isn't there to manage their socials anymore, so when Jamie and Sam ask to make a TikTok for the club, everyone decides it will be a good idea. (Or, completely self-indulgent AFC Richmond silliness)

Make them Gold by mariip - Rated T

Roy realizes he has no idea when Jamie's birthday is, and when he realizes it's only a week away, the only solution is obviously cake in the dressing room after training. Or, the himbos manage to pull off a surprise party.

every boy wants to be like his father by themightyduck - Rated G

"It turned out all right in the end, though," Jamie says quietly, ears burning red. "Oh yeah?" Ted asks. "How's that?" Jamie gestures at the pizza and the beer and the TV. "Watching a game with me old man, ain't I?"

did i really say that? by believeinbelieve - Rated G

For the first time in history - AFC Richmond have won the premier league trophy. It was a tie game until Colin scored a historic goal in injury time. Everything was going perfect for him — until the press conference. The game went to his head and next thing he knew everyone was telling him about how brave and inspiring he was — but he had no clue why. or ~~~ Colin accidentally comes out after a major victory.

stand a little stronger as I walk a little taller all the time by inlovewithnight - Not Rated

Post season 2, Jamie does a PSA for the National Council on Domestic Violence. He does not expect anyone to notice this. He is not aware that he's surrounded by people who notice everything.

The Art of Seduction by jumpfall - Rated G

"Is Coach cheating on us with another football team?" Sam asks. "Worse," Roy says. "An American football team."

[bright-and-burning]

No bc I love women and football tell me all the gossip with mccabe and foord and the ex (who is she) ☕️

alright this is going to be long im sorry but get me started on woso and i just blabber. uhh most of my sources cited but this is mostly me going back thru texts from during the world cup and grabbing facts/pictures from then so a few of these claims are a little

BUT i promise i didnt make this up LOL i was Deep in google for the entirety of the world cup so i Know i got my info from somewhere

everything else under the cut bc this got SO long im actually so sorry

there's three primary people involved here:

katie mccabe: left back (but honestly left everything wonder woman). captains the irish national team. plays for WSL's arsenal, has been since 2015 (minus a lil bit loaned to glasgow in 2017). those are the two important facts here really but the below is ~flavor~.

she's 28 and 5'5 and she's a DREAM. scored an olimpico at the world cup (FIRST IN WOMENS WORLD CUP HISTORY!!!!) (THATS WHERE YOU SCORE A GOAL DIRECTLY FROM A CORNER. FIRST ONE SINCE THE 60S IN A WORLD CUP IN GENERAL!! LITERALLY INSANITY!!!)

also for context this world cup was ireland's wnt's first ever major tournament appearance. she's the first ever irish goal-scorer (of men and women!). she's amazing. here's her for arsenal:

ruesha littlejohn: striker/midfielder. scottish-irish, but represents ireland at the senior level. 33 years old. has played for a lot of teams club-wise. currently plays for london city lionesses, a second tier team, but that wasnt announced til after the world cup. her most recent wsl team was aston villa (but i mean it, she's played like everywhere lol). 5'6 if you're curious.

here's her in ireland's kit:

caitlin foord: forward! plays for australia internationally, and arsenal (so teammates with katie. this is important.) she's played for arsenal since 2020! used to play for the thorns in the nwsl once upon a time. 5'7, if, again, you're curious. she used to date a swiss footballer (lia walti, who's played for arsenal since 2018) but they broke up like six months before the world cup. walti unfollows the australian team on instragram right after they post a video of foord, it's all very dramatic (THEYRE STILL TEAMMATES AT ARSENAL THIS WHOLE TIME BTW). arsenal man, always at the scene of the crime.

ok so now you've met our main players!!

world cup happened this past summer (2023), btw. to give you an idea of timing.

katie mccabe and ruesha littlejohn dated for 6-7 years (some articles say 6, some say 7). they came out in june 2019 and said they'd been dating for three years already. their breakup was confirmed right before the world cup (like THE SAME WEEK??), in an article where mccabe was like "yeah, ruesha, my partner at the time..." very casual.

and then. in JUNE. (world cup starts july 20th!!)

foord and mccabe go to ibiza w an ex-arsenal player (jordan nobbs). who (in june 2023, not anymore) played at aston villa with. you guessed it. littlejohn. so yeah your ex gf goes on a trip to ibiza w a new girl and your current teammate, you might be a lil pissed off. maybe.

the sun's (i know, BOOOO but this made me laugh so hard) caption on a pic from the trip had me cackling:

(the title of the article was "inside the glam lifestyle of pals caitlin foord and katie mccabe after ireland’s star’s ex snubs world cup handshake." borderline galpals commentary like have writers there never heard of regular synonyms for friends?? there was also a line that just screamed please don't sue us: "However, The Sun does not suggest the Aussie forward had anything to do with McCabe and Littlejohn's break-up.")

so now we've got two exes on the irish national team going into their first world cup appearance, the captain of the swiss national team and an australian player having broken up like six months ago, and much more, but that isn't directly related to This Specifically.

while you, anon, presumably know how the world cup works, ill give a mini explainer for anyone lost: there's the group stage, where the teams get divided into groups (in this case, of four), and your team plays every other team in the group. you get three points for winning a game, one for a draw, and none for a loss. those points add up and top two teams move on. and then you go into the knockout stage, where you have to win to advance, and if you keep winning you make it to the final yay!!

but for this we only care about the group stage. and more specifically, about group B.

group B is made up of nigeria, canada, australia, and (drumroll please) ireland!!! it is the stuff reality tv shows WISH they could make happen.

ireland and australia play. it is (almost*) the very first game of the tournament (but it's still on july 20th). it is at 5am my time. you would not believe the timezone fuckery i went through that month.

(*ok new zealand played norway starting a bit earlier on the same day but that's not as dramatic sounding)

and you know how they shake hands with the other team before a game? yeah well here's littlejohn apparently refusing to shake foord's hand:

here's a lovely photo of a Look from littlejohn to mccabe:

here's a diff irish player (sullivan) separating littlejohn and foord after the game (australia wins 1-0, btw.):

and i already shared this on @powerful-owl's post BUT. here's mccabe's little sister, supporting mccabe. please note the date (july 20th) and the comment from foord (from after the game, im like 99.99% sure) asking if she wants her jersey now. me personally if i just beat my totally platonic friend/teammate on the world's stage i wouldnt be pulling up in their sister's comments asking if she wants a jersey now (also implication of the word now as in previously discussed, etc etc. this was the thing that pushed me over the edge into insanity at like 9am after no sleep)

i admittedly have not kept up to date on anything that's gone down since the world cup so it's entirely possible more has happened! in fact i would say that it is downright likely lol. i love soccer lesbians n the insane charts necessary to keep track of their relationships <3

[bitter69uk]

KLAXON! Pink Palace – the weekly queer film club at The Rio cinema in Dalston – is holding an ultra-rare screening of the documentary Tally Brown, New York (1979) on Wednesday 27 March. If you’re London-based, your attendance is compulsory! I’ve seen the doc just once before:  at The Barbican in October 2017 (on a grainy 16-millimeter print on loan from The New York Public Library for the Performing Arts). Back then, I reflected: Watching Tally Brown, New York I couldn’t help but think thank God, a filmmaker documented this remarkable, charismatic and completely original woman. And that it was someone as simpatico as queer New German cinema maverick Rosa Von Praunheim. Von Praunheim weaves a revealing portrait of chanteuse, actress, show business doyenne, bohemian earth mother and all-round diva Tally Brown (1924 – 1989), preserving both her riveting nightclub act and her personal offstage life. And good thing he did as Brown - a vivid scene-maker in New York’s underground art subculture in the sixties and seventies - seems to have completely fallen through the cracks in the decades following her death. A Torch for Tally – the blues album she recorded in the fifties – is long forgotten. The Andy Warhol art movies she appeared in like Camp (1965) and Ari and Mario (1966) languish unseen in locked vaults at The Warhol Foundation. Today, Tally Brown barely seems to exist as a footnote. As the title implies, Von Praunheim positions flaming creature Brown - a native New Yorker - as the personification of her city’s decayed glamour. In atmospheric and beautifully degraded footage, we see seventies New York at its most gloriously scuzzy, grungy and decrepit: the porn cinemas and peepshows of Times Square, gay bathhouses, The Chelsea Hotel, neon signs, dive bars, dissolute nightclubs. And it all looks heavenly! And if that’s not enough, Brown’s pal Divine crops up! (She jokes about regularly getting mistaken for Divine - and even signing autographs as him). How can you resist? See you at The Rio! Tickets. Read more of my musings about Brown here.

[fornassau]

James McGraw had spent his entire life’s work dedicated to a personal hobby; antique books. Even with what little he had growing up, James made a fine life for himself. His grandfather made sure that he got a good education, something that came quite easily to him. For nearly twenty-five years now, he stood as the soul proprietor of The Gilded Page, a small antique book shop with a Victorian style front that faced the street on Charing Cross, in London. He’d practically written his soul away for the loan years ago, but all of that had paid off very well for him indeed.

It was difficult to be an antique dealer, much less a purveyor of rare titles. To be such a thing required intimate and vast knowledge on the subject and a great deal of trust between private collectors, auction houses and the like. But over the years he had mastered to do just that. This place wasn’t for someone to come and browse in like Barnes and Noble. God, no. The shop’s walls were lined high with books that were shelved in cases and behind glass. There were two large rooms for the ground floor, a chandelier with muted lighting hanging in the main room. Tables had some books here and there, and there were large volumes in display that were open, revealing the handwritten and painted work within the pages. And above all this was the flat he lived in. This place was just as much apart of his home.

In order to be seen by him an appointment had to be made. Book collectors tended to run in certain circles, and James liked to get information ahead of time so he could gather various titles from various places that might interest a buyer, and sometimes that took a bit of time with all the bartering and buying he had to do.

So in the second room, there sat a rounded table with a few comfortable high back chairs. He was expecting his client, a Mister Jaime Lannister. It would be difficult to not know that last name in London. But like all possible clientele, he gathered the volumes he’d obtained that may have been of interest as to what he was told on the phone weeks before hand. He’d just gotten some tea ready, which he also had brought out for that table with cream and sugar available. It was getting about that time, and to impress a new client was paramount in this business.

[lesbrarycollection]

1975: All That False Instruction by Elizabeth Riley (pseudonym for Kerryn Higgs)

"All That False Instruction" is said to be the first lesbian book published in Australia, at least according to: https://queerarchives.org.au/posts/history-bites/1976-all-that-false-instruction-2/ It had been written in London in the early 1970s by Kerryn Higgs who had, as other Australians did in those days, gone to the UK to find herself. On the strength of the first two chapters she won a publishers prize, including a contract to publish and within six months the work was done.

- Title: "All That False Instruction"

- Author(s) / Editor(s): Elizabeth Riley (pseudonym for Keryn Higgs)

-Year 1st Published: 1975

- Year of Reprint My Copy Is (if applicable): N

- Publisher: Angus and Robertson

- Page Numbers: 247

- # in series: N/A

- Genre(s): Fiction, Romance, Coming-of-age

- Is It An Ex-library Copy (and from where?): N

- Author's signature (if applicable): Y

- Have I Read It?: N

- Is It On Loan (and to which friend?): N

- Is it on Internet Archive: Y

- Average Goodreads Rating, out of 5 Stars (as of 13/10/2023): 3.22

- Amount of Goodreads Ratings (as of 13/10/2023): 18 ratings

- Amount of Goodreads Reviews (as of 13/10/2023): 4 reviews

- Summary: "Growing up in a rural working-class home, Maureen Craig rebels against her angry mother, the privileges of her favoured brother and the relentless conformity of 1950s Australia. University promises a new world both terrifying and exhilarating. She explores her sexuality and sets out to make a place for herself." Like many first novels it had a strong autobiographical element alongside the fictional bits and the exaggerations. Maureen’s early lesbian encounters are adolescently romantic and timid – but they get better. For its time it was daringly explicit. Which is where the problems arose. Higgs’ mother was appalled by what the neighbours in her regional town might think and even threatened to sue her author daughter for libel. Hence the pseudonym. Hence, too, the surprising decision to transfer the events from Melbourne to Sydney."

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