#home credit iPhone

[everytechever]

Moira dela Torre stars in Home Credit’s The Great 0% Interest Festival campaign video

Sing along and unleash that holiday spirit and check out the most exciting campaign video of the season. 🥳🍾 #HCBiggestZeroFest #HomeCredit #MoiraDelaTorre #everytechever

Following the rollout of the biggest and grandest 0% interest sale nationwide, Home Credit Philippines (HCPH), the lifestyle partner of every Filipino, launched a new campaign video this holiday season for the brand’s The Great 0% Interest Festival, headlined by Home Credit’s brand ambassador, Moira dela Torre. Launched through Home Credit’s Facebook and YouTube pages, the new campaign video…

[kawaiiprincessme]

iPhone 11, Now Within Your Reach with Home Credit’s 0% Interest Promo

Don’t miss the chance to enjoy this amazing deal extended by popular demand until September 30!   As we continue to embrace the digital lifestyle, we rely more than ever on our gadgets, especially smartphones. From the moment we wake up, these devices are our constant companions that enable us to stay updated on relevant happenings, connect with our loved ones and colleagues, work through our…

[beingjellybeans]

No More Breaking the Bank: Experience iPhone 11 with Home Credit’s 0% Interest Promo

In today’s digital age, our smartphones have become more than just devices; they’re our lifelines. From morning to night, they keep us connected, informed, and entertained. When it comes to choosing a smartphone, reliability and performance are key, and Apple’s iPhone lineup has consistently delivered on these fronts. But the burning question is, how can you get your hands on an iPhone without…

[alligator-tearzz]

R.I.P Van Der Linde Gang 💔 You would have loved:

(seen a few ppl do this,, if you started this definitely lmk and I’ll credit u !!)

updated to add Kieran and Sean

Dutch - Self help books, those podcasts where people give you terribly incorrect health information and claim that they’re doctors

Uncle - The massage chairs in malls, Frank Gallagher, insane reddit stories that definitely never happened, scamming disability cheques from the government

Abigail - iPhone’s share your location feature, the Parent Teacher Association, audiobooks

Arthur - Remote control racing cars (aarwh it’s a toy boat!), the catch and cook youtube videos, Cowboy Carter by Beyoncé, free healthcare mayhaps…..

John - Maury, The sassy man apocalypse on TikTok, Sitting and watching Bluey in a trance with Abigail after Jack has already gone to bed

Miss Grimshaw - Supernanny, Judge Judy, Spas, Massages, Bear Grylls probably, Bed Bath and Beyond

Sadie - Streetwear, absolutely bodying men on FPS games, Rage rooms

Charles - Axe throwing to get the frustration out, wildlife protection acts, David Attenborough, ATLA

Javier - The head massage you get when you get your hair washed at the salon, edibles, Guitar Hero, collecting vinyls

Hosea - Game shows like The Chase and Deal or No Deal, Dolly Parton probably, cruises, community libraries where you take a book and leave a book behind

Strauss - Cryptocurrency, whatsapp scams

Mary-Beth - Wattpad, Ao3, Booktok, you name it. Those fanfic movie adaptations like After, 50 shades of Grey etc, Cottagecore aesthetic, Taylor Swift, TikTok edits, Bridgerton

Tilly - Those ‘Day in the Life of’ Tiktoks, Jazz bars, Chloe x Halle, cruises as well

Karen - How To Get Away With Murder, Bottomless brunch, Reality shows with a bunch of drama like Love Island or Married at First Sight, Ru Paul’s Drag Race

Bill - Mardi Gras, Brokeback Mountain 😋, Home Depot, probably, those giant American cars that are on the verge of being trucks, Call of Duty

Pearson - Those late night infomercials that show random kitchen utensils like a garlic mincer or a nutribullet blender, Reddit, Spending money on E-Harmony, standing in the club and staring awkwardly at a woman, Dungeons and Dragons

Lenny - Online self paced university, Jordan Peele movies, Studio Ghibli movies, Noise cancelling headphones, The Last of Us

Kieran - Animal crossing, Saddle Club, the Wikihow “how to talk to girls” page, taking horrible advice from tik tok just because the person who posted it sounded trustworthy, astrology probably

Sean - Getting drunk at local football games and heckling the other team, claiming he’s not into Karen’s reality shows but then standing there watching the whole episode with his arms crossed while asking her about every single person and their drama, would most definitely be famous for yapping on Twitter, Derry Girls would be his fave show

[lxstfathier]

Cachorrita

Los Vaqueros x Reader

Headcanons

Summary: you got caught in the middle of the narco violence, losing everything. Thankfully, the vaqueros rescued you and decided to adopt you… as a pet.

Warnings: murder/trauma mentions, pet play, collaring, poly relationship (?), slight smut.

A/N: i can’t stop thinking about Ale and Rudy, they’re both so cute and boyfriend shaped and i love them very much 💗 so i got this silly idea in the middle of the night and decided to write it, don’t ask me what the hell is this, just enjoy it. And please remember that english is not my first language. Hope y’all like it :)

♡ Your parents were killed by el sin nombre, and you were kidnapped for a few days with the intention of human trafficking. Luckily, you were rescued by los vaqueros before you ended up being trafficked for real.

♡ It was nice to be free again, but everything you had ever know didn’t exist anymore. Not even your home. You had nowhere to go, and such a naive little girl like you would be an easy target in Las Almas… again. That’s why the vaqueros offered you to stay with them, in their base.

♡ You accepted immediately. They saved your life, and you would trust them with it.

♡ At first, it was weird to live among military men. Seeing them always with a serious look on their faces and yelling orders was quite scary, but soon you got used to it. You got along with everyone, and they all treated you in the nicest way possible, so it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

♡ They even gave you your own little room!

♡ Once you started to get more comfortable, you gained the confidence to get out of your room more often, exploring the base and helping around with the daily tasks, learning the basic things. And it wasn’t long until you grew closer to Alejandro and Rodolfo, following them around any time you could.

♡ Alejandro thinks of you as one of those stray dogs that Rudy used to bring into the base (in a cute way), that’s why they started calling you “Cachorrita”.

♡ You love the nickname, but you loved it even more when they actually started treating you as a puppy, making sure that you’re always happy and taken care of.

♡ One day, they surprise you with a pretty collar. It’s made from the softest and most finest leather, in your favorite color, and it also has a cute heart-shaped tag that says “Cachorrita” and “Propiedad de Los Vaqueros” in the back. Such a sweet gift. It made you teary. You hugged every single one of them as a thank you and then Alejandro put it around your neck <3

♡ It doesn’t matter if they’re all at the base, or just a few soldiers, you always go out to spend time with them. You keep them company, listen to anything they have to say, comfort them, or just snuggle on their lap while they play with your hair. They say often that you’re way better than a therapy dog, but you don’t really think so.

♡ One time you decided it would be a great idea to cook something for them, so you prepared chilaquiles con carne, and they all went insane, saying that it was delicious, better than the bland military food they were used to eat daily. So now you cook for them almost every day, remembering the recipes your mother taught you.

♡ Even though they all agreed to collar you, only Alejandro is allowed to put a leash on you. He doesn’t do it often, just when he has to do a lot of paperwork in his office, taking you with him to keep you at his feet for hours. “Good girl” he says petting your head while you rest your chin on his thigh. “Keep being obedient and i’ll give you a treat when i’m done”. If he gets stressed, he might use that pretty little mouth of yours.

♡ They won’t hesitate to spoil you. You want new clothes? Stuffed animals? Jewelry? The newest iphone? don’t even worry about it, Ale and Rudy will be buying it all for you.

♡ When they go away on missions, they always text you whenever they can, making sure that you’re fine without them. Rudy always gives you one of his credit cards, telling you to use it if you need something. But you have never used it, you have everything you need at the base.

♡ When they come back, the first thing you hear is Alejandro yelling “Dónde está nuestra cachorrita?”, and you’ll come out of your room as fast as you can, running to them to hug them tight, glad that they’re all safe and sound.

♡ Sometimes, when Alejandro or Rodolfo get horny (which is often), they come to you, and you spread your legs for them, happy to please them however they want. Rudy fucks you sweet and slow. Alejandro fucks you fast and rough. But you like it more when they both fuck you at the same time.

♡ When you get your period, they all treat you as if you were dying, giving you everything you want and need. Alejandro makes sure you have pain pills and a hot water bottle to put on your tummy, and Rudy goes to the store to get more pads and your favorite snacks.

♡ When you wake up in the middle of the night because of your constant nightmares, you sneak into Rudy’s room, getting in the bed with him and cuddling up in his chest. “Qué pasa, cachorrita? you got nightmares again?” he asks, half awake, and when you whisper a “si” he just holds you closer, hearing his heart beat until you fall asleep.

♡ They teach you how to use a gun, just in case. But you really hate it. Those things are heavy and loud and scary.

♡ Speaking of things you hate, you also don’t like going outside due to your trauma. But Alejandro and Rudy insist on taking you out at least once a week, going to the local market for some groceries, and you hold Ale’s hand as if your life depended on it, way too scared to let him go. But, if you behave well, they buy you ice cream on the way back.

♡ You’re not a brat, but sometimes you accidentally do something they don’t like. They’re the military after all, highly disciplined men, and you aren’t used to that. If you do something slightly disrespectful or don’t listen to orders, it will result on Rudy or Ale yanking you by the collar, planting a firm smack on your ass. “Don’t do that again, entendido?”.

♡ You love stealing Ale’s military jackets. They’re comfy, oversized and smell like him. But you didn’t expected him to get you your own jacket, embroidered with “cachorrita” on the front and a bright pink armband that says “emotional support”. And you love it, of course, but that doesn’t stop you from stealing his jackets again.

♡ You have an oral fixation, and Rudy thrives off it, letting you bite his arms, lick his neck or have a really messy and heated up kissing session (if he’s not busy). Sometimes he even lets you suck his fingers, but be careful with that one cuz he might want to give you something bigger to suck on.

♡ If any of Los Vaqueros gets hurt on a mission or training, you will take care of them just like they do with you, not leaving their side until they feel better. You can’t stand seeing any of your -new found- family in pain, makes you feel sad :(

♡ When your birthday comes, Alejandro and Rodolfo enter your room early at morning, singing las mañanitas and giving you the gift they got for you. It’s exciting, so you quickly open the box, eager to see what’s inside. Gasping when you finally admire the pretty set of fluffy ears, tail plug, and thigh high socks with paw print, all in your favorite color. “Why don’t you try it on for us, cachorrita?” Alejandro suggests, and you’re more than happy to do so, already feeling a tingle between your legs.

♡ You’re on birth control, obviously, but Rudy and Ale are already thinking about getting you off those stupid pills…

[illiterateaffairs]

behind the scenes chapter one | i enjoyed our meet cute

masterlist | next

pairing: jamie tartt x actress!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 4,722

summary: you’ve been in richmond one day and you’re already having chance encounters with famous british football players, what are the odds?

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of my new jamie series, behind the scenes! fake dating is a god tier trope and i’ve always wanted to write something for it. it will also be very rom-com-y, just like ted would like. i really hope you enjoy the first chapter, i’m so excited to kick off this new story and can’t wait to hear your thoughts. also wanted to shout out @buckychristwrites​ who wrote an incredible fake dating jamie series called could this be and you should totally check it out if you haven’t already ♡

Your alarm goes off at 8AM on the dot but you’re already wide awake. You’ve been in London for 48 hours and instead of taking in the sights, you’ve been trying to reset your sleep schedule. After landing at 10AM Friday morning, you pretty much passed right out as soon as you arrived at your rented, two story brownstone. 

See, London was eight hours ahead of Los Angeles - your home base. While you were used to traveling for work, you’d never had a job in another country before. And jet lag was a bitch.

You’re an actor. You have been since you were 15, when you got a recurring role on a kids show after an opening casting call. Some called it luck, but you called it busting your ass in theater classes as soon as your mom could afford them. You’d been a “drama queen” since you were in diapers and you begged her to sign you up for every class, camp and play in your small town and she did everything she could to support your dream. She’s your biggest fan.

By the time you were 20, you’d had a sitcom and several supporting roles in films that made you an underrated fan favorite. Your biggest break came, though, when you were 22 and were given the opportunity to star opposite A-list actors in the superhero film of the summer. After that you blew up, you did a few more action movies and a couple other dramas. 

Now, freshly 25, with a lot of credits filling your IMDb page, there was one genre you still hadn’t tackled: romance. And that’s what brought you to London. You were filming your first romantic comedy in the beautiful town of Richmond. Usually when your job brought you to a new place, the first thing you wanted to do was explore it. However, spending the last couple days in and out of sleep was preventing you from doing so. Today was Sunday, your last day before production kicked off tomorrow, and you’d be damned if you didn’t get the chance to get out and do something before you were swamped with work.

You get ready quickly, eager to not waste another second inside. However, just as you swing your front door open, you come face to face with your assistant, who’s hand is poised to knock. 

“Oh, good, you’re already up,” she chirps, brushing past you and into your temporary home as she taps away on her iPhone. 

“Margot, I thought we agreed on no work this weekend,” you sigh, reluctantly following her into your living room.

“I agreed and you agreed, but Harry on the other hand,” she frowns holding up her phone, “He didn’t agree.”

You groan. Harry was your publicist. You’ve worked with him since getting the role in one of the Spiderman movies. He always had some crazy idea how to boost your public image, most of which you’ve shot down, but his most recent pitch he hasn’t been able to let go of. 

“He’s still bugging you about that shit?” you question, flopping down in an armchair. 

Margot perches on the arm of the sofa, “He’s only bugging me because you keep ignoring him. He still thinks it's a good idea.”

The good idea in question was agreeing to a fake relationship with another celebrity - or anyone really. Usually the goal of a PR relationship was to gain attention for one or both parties, or their upcoming projects. While that wouldn’t hurt, your publicist thought the benefit of having a fake boyfriend was that you’d appear more desirable. 

In your previous roles, you’d been typecast as the funny best friend or snarky sidekick. Not only was this movie you were about to film your first as the leading lady, it was the first where you were playing a romantic lead. You also haven’t been known to be seen with many suitors in your personal life as well. Not that you hadn’t had any significant others since entering the spotlight, but they’d been short lived and you tried to keep those relationships under the radar, not necessarily wanting the public’s opinion on your dating life. 

Of course, that didn’t stop journalists and people with Twitter accounts from speaking on it anyway. Since you got cast in this Rom-Com - Hopeless Romantics was the working title - you’d been subjected to criticism over how you couldn’t possibly be seen as a realistic love interest when you’ve yet to be painted as such both on and off the screen. Though, you’d love to point out that just because you hadn’t played a romantically driven character before didn’t mean you couldn’t now. You’ve learned to just ignore trolls like that. 

That didn’t mean from time to time the odd comment didn’t get under your skin. 

Still, you didn’t see the point in faking a relationship just to get these people off your back. You had the best fans in the world, who’d watch you do anything no matter the genre. And your co-star was Charlie Knox, who’d been pegged as this generation's Hugh Grant, so plenty of people would be buying tickets regardless. You could hardly argue, feeling flushed after your chemistry reed with the actor even though he was doing just that; acting. Harry had even previously suggested faking a relationship with him, which would be the perfect scenario according to him, but Charlie was of course already taken. 

“He’s going to have to give up eventually,” you shake your head, “Because I’m not doing it.” Margot makes a weird face and you tilt your head, “Don’t tell me you think I should do it.”

“No, of course not. You should have the autonomy to make your own decisions about your love life, real or fake,” she insists, “I just wish Harry didn’t make such a big deal about it.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry he’s bugging you about it. I can talk to him again.”

“No, don’t worry about it,” Margot sighs, “You should be enjoying your day off. Were you on your way out before? What were you thinking of doing?”

You shrug, not really having had a game plan, “I was thinking breakfast or something to start, and then seeing where the day takes me.”

She nods, once again tapping on her phone, “That sounds nice. Don’t be out too late, though. A car will be here to get you at 6AM for the read through.” As she stands up and starts walking to your door, she glances at you, “And wear a hat please. Last thing we need is you to be stampeded by fans like in The Lion King.”

“Margot, I love you, but there is no need to bring Mufasa into this,” you tease, “I promise I will be discreet, but only if you promise me you will also take time for yourself today.”

“I promise,” she says with a small smile, but before you know it, she's already back on the phone and out your door. 

You can’t be too hard on her. You were also known to prioritize your work over everything else most days. But she was not only the best assistant you could ask for, she was also one of your closest friends, and she deserved some time off. You’d have to talk to Harry at some point tomorrow to get him off her back. And yours. 

But first, food.

It had been one month - one fucking month - since Keeley had gotten back together with Roy. And it was the worst month of Jamie’s life. 

Yes, he still has feelings for Keeley. Yes, it hurt him to see her choose Roy, even if it had nothing to do with him. And it was twice as bad that Roy and him had finally started becoming actual friends after all these years. But that wasn’t really the problem. 

It was the way everyone has been looking at him since it happened.

It started with the apologetic look on Keeley’s face that greeted him when he answered the door one summer morning. Before she could get a word out, he knew what she was going to say. In fact, he’d seen it coming. Despite Keeley insisting she wasn’t choosing between him and the grumpy old fart who was now his head coach, the two had been spending more and more time together. Keeley was around the club more and Roy was less grumpy. That morning, Keeley told him she wanted him to hear it from her that they were thinking of starting things again. His stomach twisted, disappointed that he’d practically lost her for the second time. But, God, the look of sympathy she was giving him felt even worse.

That was nothing compared to the way Roy looked at him when he walked into the locker room later that day. Roy wasn’t one to talk about or express his feelings, but he still managed to somehow convey his guilt and apology through a single look. Jamie just shook his head, eager to not speak a single word about the topic and move on. For the first time he wished Roy would just yell at him like he usually did. 

Then a week later, Roy and Keeley were publicly a couple again. The rest of the team and staff were elated, but the few who’d known Jamie had been pining for the bubbly blonde again looked on at him sympathetically, patting him on the back and muttering affirmations on the way to training. In the grand scheme of things, they were just being nice, but he fucking hated it.

He was Jamie Fucking Tartt. He could be with anyone he wanted. Sure, the only girl who’s liked him for him and the only one he’s truly loved would rather be with someone else; someone else who was one of his best friends now. So what? The last thing he wanted was everyone around him treating him like a wounded puppy. He was fine.

It didn’t help that he saw Keeley and Roy all the time. At work. At team celebrations. At friendly gatherings. They were everywhere. In fact, they went the extra mile to include him in things to make him feel better, though it had the opposite effect. He felt like a charity case. He didn’t need them babysitting him, like he couldn’t spend a single night alone without collapsing into a full mental breakdown. 

To be fair, the last time he’d had a night to himself, he’d made the mistake of turning on The Notebook for the first time out of morbid curiosity and he wept for an hour. But it was The Notebook for fuck’s sake, what else was he going to do?

Things improved little by little as the weeks had gone by. Sam and Colin stopped giving him glances everytime Keeley visited the locker room to drop something off for Roy. Keeley stopped looking at him with guilt riddled eyes, but there was still a weird energy between them when they hung out. And with Roy things felt mostly normal. 

At least he thought so, but this morning Jamie’s been wandering around his house aimlessly waiting for Roy to show up for their regular early morning training. He’d been ready at promptly 4AM but there was no sign of his coach. He waited thirty minutes before calling but no answer. So, he plopped on the couch and watched some cooking show for another hour or so before trying again. It wasn’t until 8AM - four hours later - he got a call back from Roy.

“Hey, I thought old people were usually up early,” Jamie teased upon answering, “Did you oversleep, grandad?”

Instead of Roy’s gravelly voice responding, he hears another familiar voice in the background, “Is that Jamie? Tell him I’m sorry.”

Keeley.

Jamie’s stomach twists. Of course.

“Uh, yeah,” Roy’s voice eventually says, “Keeley was here and I forgot to set an alarm. We were going to get breakfast but then we can meet at the park if you still want?”

Roy grunts as Keeley speaks up again, voice distant, “Oi, ask if he wants to join us.”

Roy sighs into the phone, “Yeah, unless you want to come to breakfast with us?”

Jamie closes his eyes. Another pity invite. “Um, thanks mate. That’s alright, though. Think I’ll get some running in on my own and maybe we can meet up later tonight.”

“Yeah, that works…” Roy says before tacking on, “Sorry, Jamie.”

Jamie chuckles humorlessly, “Not a problem. Talk to ya later.”

He hangs up and tosses his phone across the couch. Not only did Jamie not like feeling like a third wheel, he didn’t like being one because the other two felt guilty. Especially when he was still getting over his feelings for one of them. He groans, forcing himself off the couch, eager to stay true to his word. He needed to run off these feelings. 

You’d been leisurely walking through the streets of Richmond for a little while, enjoying the early fall breeze and the sights as the leaves started to change color. You’ve been trying to keep an eye out for a place to grab breakfast or a snack, but you’ve been distracted by the shops and the people walking around you. For your part, you were donned in sunglasses with a ball cap tilted low on your head. So far no one has stopped you, which was nice. Not that you minded meeting the occasional fan. Most were sweet and you adored connecting with people face to face, but there was always the risk of someone just in search of an autograph or selfie despite not caring about you or your work, not to mention nosy paparazzi who pop out of nowhere to get a photo. So, you’re enjoying the semblance of normalcy while you can. You sense that once filming starts, those in the area will be eager to catch a glimpse of you and your costars any chance they get. 

You’re a little too comfortable with flying under the radar, when as you’re turning a street corner someone runs right smack into you. You both fall to the ground, your sunglasses flying clear off your face. Your heart hammers in your chest, wondering if someone had done this on purpose, but the stranger next to you also appears to be scrambling. 

“Fuck, sorry,” they mutter, grabbing your discarded sunglasses for you before pulling you both up. As he places the glasses back in your hands, his eyes meet yours for the first time, “Oh shit, are you…”

You smile sheepishly, his eyes alight with recognition. You’re still a little anxious from the encounter, as you try to get your breathing to return to normal. You vaguely wonder if this guy is going to ask for a picture or something, when you actually hear the familiar click of a camera and your blood runs cold. 

“Hey Jamie Tartt!” an accented man calls, “Who’s the girl, Jamie?

The man in front of you looks back at you with wide eyes and grabs your hand, “Shit, come with me.”

You can barely process what he’d said as he pulled you down the street, “What? Where are we going?”

“Somewhere private,” he explains as you continue jogging alongside him, “Where there’s one paparazzi, ten will follow. But I’m sure you know that.”

You can’t argue with him. But you do wonder who the hell this guy is that he’s so familiar with paparazzi. You also briefly consider if following a guy you’ve never met through alleyways is a smart decision, but you hardly have the time to dwell on it. 

After a few minutes, this mystery guy, who you can only presume is named Jamie if the paparazzi was right, leads you through an unassuming storefront that ends up being a charming and quaint little café. You look around curiously. It’s not completely vacant, but the patrons don’t bat an eye when the two of you enter. The middle aged barista behind the counter looks at your companion with a warm smile and greets him, once again, by Jamie.

After your heart rate returns to normal, you turn to the man beside you. He gives you a tiny shrug, “I come here when I don’t want to be bothered. Not many people know about this place but it has the best scones in Richmond.”

You squint at him in curiosity, “So, I’m guessing you’re…someone of note then, too? If that paparazzi was taking your picture and you have a secret hideout.”

He chuckles, looking a little bashful, which you have a feeling is out of character for this guy, “Uh, yeah, I’m Jamie Tartt? Premier League footballer for AFC Richmond?”

Your cheeks heat up, “Oh, uh, sorry, I’m not really familiar with…”

He cuts you off, “No need to apologize. Wouldn’t expect an actress from the states to know anything about English football.”

You chuckle, despite yourself, “Well, if it helps I don’t know much about American football either. Or any sport for that matter.”

Jamie’s lips quirk up again, “I know you, though. From that thing.”

You snort, “Well, I’ve done a couple of things.”

He shakes his head, “No, no, no, you’re in that one movie, what’s it called,” he snaps his fingers, “Meet Me in Melrose, that's the one!”

“Wow, that’s a deep cut,” you comment, the film being an indie you worked on years ago; one of your first bigger roles despite the lower budget project.

“Yeah, my old coach? It was one of his favorites, so the whole team became obsessed. We’ve watched a bunch of your stuff,” he explains.

“That’s cool,” you nod with a small smile.

He nods along with you before suddenly becoming very aware of his situation, “Uh, can I order you something? Or, shit, you probably had somewhere to be. I usually try to wait things out for a while here, but if you have to go…”

You once again consider the oddity of casually hanging out in a cafe with a man you just met, but he seems trustworthy enough. And even a bit intriguing.

So you respond, “No, I don’t. I was just out exploring before. I was actually looking for a place to eat so this is perfect. I’m happy to hang out here for a bit.”

“Okay, cool,” Jamie nods again, still feeling a bit unsure of what to do when a Hollywood movie star is suddenly in your midst, “Uh, do you like coffee? Tea?”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to buy anything for me.”

“Well, I was the one who crashed into you and abducted you here so it’s the least I can do.”

You giggle, “Okay fine, I’ll take a hot chocolate. Coffee makes me anxious and tea tastes like a worse version of water. No offense.”

Jamie laughs to himself before walking up to the counter to order for you both. He returns moments later with a hot chocolate for you and coffee for him, as well as two of those scones he mentioned, before leading you over to a small booth in the back of the cafe. 

“So, uh, you must come here often if the staff knows your name,” you say as you blow on your drink for it to cool, “Unless they’re all soccer - sorry - football fans?”

“Actually, Olive, the owner of the café doesn’t know shit about football. It's part of the appeal,” he tells you, “I manage to avoid photographers most of the time, but even if they’re not hounding me, I still like to come here to get away from things.”

“That makes sense. I feel like it's hard to do that in LA. Even the small businesses are overrun with influencers trying to find the trendiest spot nowadays,” you muse.

“Is that where you live? LA?” he asks.

“Mhm. Have you been?” 

“Nah. Been to New York before, but spent most of my time in some clubs,” he tells you, “Have you been to London before?”

“No, actually,” you admit, “I’ve always wanted to come but never got around to it. I’m actually here for a film.”

“Oh, yeah, a Rom-Com, right?” he asks and you nod, “It’s all anyone can talk about around the club these days. We’ve never had a big movie shoot in Richmond before.”

“Hmm, wait til everyone hears how you kidnapped one of the stars,” you joke, finally braving a sip of your drink.

Jamie laughs, “I think I’ll keep that one to myself. Plus, I don’t think they’d even believe me.”

You laugh along with him, thoroughly enjoying his company as well as the delicious cocoa. You also finally try the scone Jamie placed in front of you. Your eyes light up after the first bite.

“Is that blueberry?”

Jamie’s eyes widened, “Sorry, I should have asked…”

You furiously shake your head, “No, no, don’t apologize. I love blueberry.”

Jamie’s lips quirk up, “Me, too. It’s my favorite.”

You smile back, but it drops when you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket. Pulling it out, you see that you had a missed call from Harry along with a few text messages. Instead of responding, you roll your eyes and put it away, eager to forget that the man exists until tomorrow.

“Uh, everything okay?” Jamie asks tentatively. 

“Oh, yeah,” you reassure, plastering another smile on your face. Then you find a part of yourself that desperately wants to vent about your situation to an unbiased party, “Actually, uh, I’m not sure how much pressure football players are under for their image, but have you ever been asked or been in a fake relationship for PR?”

Jamie leans back, processing the question, “Uh, no. I haven’t really had a problem finding my own girlfriends.”

You snort, “Of course.”

“But I’ve heard of it happening with other footballers,” Jamie adds, “And there was this whole reality dating show I did and none of that was real.”

You gasp, “You were on a dating show?”

Jamie nods reluctantly, “Yeah. It was called Lust Conquers All. It was a low point.”

You can’t help but laugh, “Wow, I’ll have to check it out.”

“Please don’t,” Jamie groans, rubbing a hand over his face, wondering what possessed him to even bring it up.

After your laughter quells, Jamie eyes you curiously, “Why do you ask? About PR relationships, I mean.”

You sigh, looking down at your hands in your lap as you answer, “My publicist wants me to do the whole fake relationship thing.”

Jamie’s eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You shrug, not eager to admit but still wanting to know his take nonetheless, “Apparently, I don’t seem like a romantic person, because I haven’t done a romantic role or publicly dated someone before.”

Jamie continues to look confused, “So? Isn’t that what actors do? Play new roles even if they haven’t done it before?”

“Yes, thank you,” you agree, nodding furiously, “But since I’ve only played cynical or sarcastic characters, that’s how people see me. Apparently, I don’t seem like a good choice for a movie called Hopeless Romantics.”

“But you’re not like your other characters in real life right?” he asks, “You’re not completely cynical about romance.”

You falter, your eyes flitting away from his. Jamie scoffs.

“Oh, come on, don’t tell me you’re anti-romance.”

“I’m not,” you sputter, “I just think dating is a little more complicated than the movies make it seem.”

Jamie doesn’t listen, “Wow, I can see why your publicist thinks you need a fake boyfriend for this to be a little more realistic. You can’t be against love and in a movie about love.”

You gasp, lightly shoving him, “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m not against love. It’s just…hard to come by for me.” You sigh, trying to figure out what exactly you’re willing to admit, “The last few guys I’ve dated weren't so great. They either only wanted to date me for the exposure or connections or money.”

Jamie’s expression sobers, “Oh.” 

“Yeah,” you nod, “My last relationship, if you could even call it that, was so short lived. It ended because he stole this fancy vase thing from my house.”

“Wow,” Jamie whispers.

“And jokes on him, it was from pottery barn,” you huff, “But yeah, basically its not love I don’t believe in. It’s other people. So I’ve been pretty content to be on my own these days.”

“I get that,” Jamie says softly after a beat, “I’ve dated plenty of girls who only wanted me cause I’m a footballer. Or cause I’m great at sex,” you snort, shaking your head, but he continues, “Not that I really wanted a real relationship, but it still hurts when someone doesn’t want you for you.”

“Exactly,” you nod, picking off pieces of your scone, “I’ve never been with someone who felt genuine. Have you?”

Jamie sighs and you sense there’s a story there, “Once, but I fucked it up. Didn’t realize what I had until it was gone. Classic right?”

You huff lightly.

“The worst part is she was kind enough to stay my friend even after the way I treated her,” he continues, “So not only does she treat me with kindness that I definitely don’t deserve, but I have to sit by and watch her be with someone else.”

You frown, “That must make it hard to move on.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

“And you haven’t been with anyone else since?”

“A couple girls, but nothing serious. And no one recently. Haven’t really seen the point.”

“So I guess I’m not the only one who might be a little cynical then, huh?” you ask with a teasing smile.

He gives you a half smile. “Yeah, I guess I can’t be one to judge.”

You study him for a few more moments. After your introductions, you would have guessed Jamie Tartt was another classic playboy athlete, and after conversing with him that seemed to be his reputation. But now you weren’t so sure. He was…peculiar. 

You continue chatting for a while longer. He tells you more about his football team and you tell him a few spoiler-free details about the movie you’re shooting. Before you know it, you’d been camped out in this cafe with Jamie for a full hour. Time flies when you’re enjoying yourself. You had to imagine the paparazzi had to have left the area by now. And while you weren’t in a hurry to cut your conversation short, your hot chocolate was no longer hot and your scone was long gone. 

“Hey, this place is really nice by the way,” you comment, as you gather your trash, “I might have to come back here. That is, if you don’t mind sharing your secret hide away with me for the next three months?”

Jamie chuckles, following you back to the front of the café. “Feel free.”

You smile at him softly, as you walk out the door, “Maybe, I’ll uh, see you around?”

He shrugs his shoulder, “Yeah, I’ll be around. Maybe you could catch a football match while you’re in town.”

“I’ll definitely keep that in mind,” you nod, “Well, thank you again for the rescue. I owe you one.”

“Nah, it was nothing. Get home safe, yeah?”

“You, too. Bye Jamie.”

He bids you farewell, before you two reluctantly turn and head in different directions. You wrinkle your nose, recapping your encounter in your head. What a random coincidence to run into an apparent famed football star on your first day in town. You wonder if you ever will run into him again, but you assume the odds of that are low.

Meanwhile, on his walk home, Jamie is questioning whether or not he should have asked for your number. In a strictly platonic sense, just to keep in touch or to be available in case you needed a friend while you were in town. But he brushes the thought away. Like a famous actress would want to willingly hang out with him if she wasn’t hiding from paparazzi. Yeah right. Odds are this was all a dream and the boys would laugh in his face if he brought it up tomorrow. 

Real or not real, he’d remember your morning together fondly. 

a/n: please let me know any and all those! again, so excited for this story and brand new journey for jamie x reader. also! i will be starting a fresh taglist for this story, so let me know if you’d like to be tagged. the distractions taglist will stay the same for any one shots i may continue to post in that universe. <3

taglist: @respondingtoshowerthoughts-blog​ @royalestrellas​

[kscheibles]

e la vita ch. 1

content warnings: f! reader, drug mentions, drinking, emetophobia, bisexuality (homophobes and biphobes begone I will block u so fast)

word count: 3.8k

I didn’t want to be in Italy this summer.

That makes me sound ungrateful or something, but it’s the truth. Three months ago, I had planned to stay in Brooklyn with Claire all summer long. Hosting dinner parties, eating greasy breakfast sandwiches, dancing to old $1 records in our cramped apartment, picnicking in Prospect Park, and being totally, delusionally in love.

That was before things went south, she stopped trying and left me with more rent than I could possibly pay in the city. When Christina had first mentioned that a group of her friends was headed to Italy for the summer, I’d dismissed the possibility of going with them. Not only did I dread cohabitating with her wealthy, influencer friends who seemed to deal only in clout, I thought I’d be otherwise engaged. Weeks later, I’d gone back to her groveling, asking if I could sleep on the pull-out couch in Nina’s family villa for the summer. Luckily, the sofa was still available.

Now I sit at a wrought iron table – lease broken and all of my belongings sold to wealthy Manhattanites – in the warm yellow light of the Lombard sunset. Around me are chatty, outgoing girls, each more beautiful than the last. They gab about clubs and brands and boys. In the sea of Botox and iPhones, I cling to Christina like a life buoy. I push my tortellini around my plate to make it look like I have an interest in food, but I really don’t. I’m jet-lagged and uncomfortable. And even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, relying on oat lattes and dirty water dogs to keep me alive.

“Try the pasta,” Christina jabs, “trust me, you’ll have a lot more fun this summer if you lean in.” I break the shell open with my fork revealing succulent ricotta curds and bright green spinach. The filing swims in a sauce of brown butter and fragrant tarragon but doesn’t affect me as it should. Nothing does anymore. The group’s conversation interrupts my train of thought.

“They’ve come every summer since the nineties, same as us,” says Nina, smirking at the girl to her left. “Hottest little accents you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Who is she talking about?” I whisper to Christina.

“The boys in the other house,” she says, “the one you see on your way up here.” Nina’s family’s home is at a higher altitude than the rest of the city, necessitating a laborious hike to the bottom to actually do anything while in town. I’m sure that they’d been sold on the privacy of the location, but its impracticality left me wanting. The only other villa nearby sat at the base of the lush green hills before the road disappeared into winding dirt.

Another girl chimes in, “I saw them last year at a dinner in the city. They’re cute, too,” she coos. 

“I kissed George the summer I turned fifteen,” brags Nina and the whole table breaks into oohs and aahs. I usually have a shut-up-unless-spoken-to policy at group dinners, but I know Christitna is right. If I don’t lean in then the credit card debt I’d amassed to buy my plane ticket and the back problems I'm sure to contract from sleeping on a pull-out couch for a whole summer will have been for naught. Think of it as an acting exercise, I tell myself, a performance of the girl who is totally not hung up on her ex and excited for a fun summer with her friends. 

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “who are these guys?”

“They’re in a band,” says Nina.

“Like a real one?” I ask. Years of living in New York have taught me that all bands are not, in fact, real ones. Nina laughs.

“You’re funny,” she muses, “yes, a real one. They’re like famous. We’ll go over eventually, they throw the best parties you can find around here. Get real drugs, too. Not just liters upon liters of Aperol, not that I mind that either.”

With my question sufficiently answered, I return quietly to my pasta, cutting each shell into impossibly smaller pieces until it’s rabbit food that will glide down my throat and do the hard job of nourishing me without any work on my part.

–

After dinner, I tuck into the pull-out couch in the villa’s spacious living room. The lack of A/C and the balmy summer air make it impossible to enjoy the luxurious wool blankets Nina’s family no doubt splurged on. I allow myself to eavesdrop on the elated sounds coming from upstairs: women confiding in each other, commiserating about their troubles, and shrieking excitedly at each other's successes.

I first try to doze off at 10:15, hoping that an early night will be exactly what I need and I’ll wake up refreshed and on Italian time. After an hour of staring at the popcorn ceilings and trying to suppress my crippling fear of missing out, I’ve tired my mind out enough to begin slipping toward sleep. I have fewer and fewer thoughts until I’m jolted by a hip-hop bassline. It resonates through the trundle bed and rebounds off my ribs, cozying itself into my heart. As I begin to come to, I recognize the chords of a house track that used to play at the girl bar Claire and I frequented in Green Point. The melody is warm and familiar and undeniably annoying. How loud must the music be for it to affect me so acutely even as I’m a few kilometers away from them? 

I decide I’m pissed – and yes I decided. I’m freshly single, broke, jet-lagged, and fucking pissed at those entitled rich assholes. I slide my sandals on and head out down the hill in my sleep clothes.

-

I step outside onto the winding dirt road that leads the way to the boys’ home. The night is dark, lit by stars much brighter than I’m used to seeing in Brooklyn. I tilt my head back to look at them, trying to identify the big dipper. After a few seconds, I’m dizzy. I shake myself and trudge ahead, almost lulled into submission by the constant chirping of cicadas and the sweet fragrance of orange blossom that wafts off the bushes. 

With each step I take towards the boys’ villa (what were their names again? Nina said one was called George), the music, electronic and fast-paced, becomes louder. 

When I first knock on the faded wood door, I’m quite sure no one has heard me. I stand outside for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should knock again or cut my losses and return up the hill. I decide I may as well disrupt their party as some kind of karmic retribution for keeping me awake even as I’m exhausted from a transatlantic flight. I raise my fist and rap harshly at the door. A moment later, it flies open, revealing a curly-haired boy. Well, not boy, I decide as I inspect his features – lines decorate his forehead, and gray peeks out at me from within a ringlet that hangs over his eyes. He gives me a once over and can immediately tell I’m not here for the party. 

“Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed. His accent lilts and falls over the words. All of a sudden, I feel insecure in my braless and plaid pajama-clad state. He’s beautiful – and exasperated by me. I double down on my own annoyance. 

“Would you mind turning the music down?” I ask, still cordial, “I’m staying at the house up the way and I can’t get to sleep.”

The guy in front of me purses his lips and considers me for a moment. I feel itchy and uncomfortable. He’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes, to my soft hips and painted toes and peaked nipples. 

“Let me show you around, gorgeous,” he smiles, “then maybe you won’t mind so much.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the party. A warmth covers me as I cross the threshold into the villa. The inside of the home smells like college: cheap weed, sweet sticky mixers, and sweat. My sandals stick slightly to the floor, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be here right now. Like the alcohol that’s been spilled on the ground is some great cosmic interference to convince me to go home and get the rest I ought to. 

Suddenly, a big hand falls on the shoulder of the boy who’s pulling me by my limbs.

“Matty!” says the man. I can make out enough to see that he’s tall and devastatingly handsome. 

“George!” the boy – Matty, I remind myself – drops my hand and fully embraces the bigger guy. “Was just showing…” he nods at me to introduce myself.

“Y/n.”

“Around,” Matty finishes. George gives me a once over.

“Did she just roll out of bed? Or get released from prison?”

“Y/n came to ask us to keep the noise down,” Matty declares with fake sincerity, “Not a partier, are ya love?”

“Under the right circumstances, I can be,” I retort. Matty and George’s eyebrows raise in amusement, faces breaking out in smiles. That sounded much more cunning in my head. Now I feel like a toy they’re playing with, winding me up to see what noises I make. It feels infantilizing. I’m uncomfortable, crawling in my skin; pride battered and desperate to go home as soon as it doesn’t look like I’m running away from a fight of my own picking. “I’d better be going actually,” I assert.

Matty puckers his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll show you out, princess.” It’s a sweet nickname but it tastes bitter out of his mouth. He seems to twist everything good and make it unbearable. I resent him for it. I trudge in front of Matty towards the door with steadfast focus. As I cross the threshold, I turn to meet his gaze.

“Thanks for nothing,” I say calmly. Matty breaks into a devilishly smug grin. His eyebrows tilt a little and his lips reveal a few crooked teeth at the bottom of his mouth.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” he says. I scoff and turn on my heels, leaving Matty in the dust.

–

The scent of freshly chopped garlic fills the kitchen as I stand in an assembly line of young women with cutting boards and chefs knives, each diligently chopping an ingredient for the bruschetta. 

In front of me is a bunch of basil, perfectly fresh and green. I gently remove the leaves from the stem and create a pile in the middle of my board. It reminds me of when I would be tasked with raking the leaves as a kid. Too distracted by my childish whims, I would create more work for myself by piling the leaves on top of each other and taking a grandiose dive into them before scooping them up into a trash bag and discarding them. Each leaf was like a piece of confetti, a celebration of the season and of youth. Now I do these things to prove to myself that I’m young and that I can still conjure up that imaginative, playful nature if I try hard enough. 

As I rock my knife back and forth over the soft leaves, Christina asks me where I was the night before. 

“I came out around eleven to invite you upstairs, but I couldn’t find you,” she says.

Embarrassed, I train my eyes to the task at hand. This is not the group to look like a tattle-tale in front of. Actually, there’s very few groups in which that would fly. My penchant for playing God and divvying out karmic consequences to everyone whose path I cross is a part of my nature I’m not particularly fond of. I’m not keen to share it, especially around people who are still making up their minds about me. Despite my steadfast beliefs and borderline-outlandish behaviors, I maintain a fervent desire to be liked. It’s pathetic. 

“I stepped out for some air,” I murmur.

“Really?” she nudges, “Because I didn’t see you on the porch.”

I turn my basil bunch 90 degrees in a flourish, beginning to chop it lengthwise. 

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because of the music,” I spit.

“And…” Christina has always been too good at getting me to reveal my true feelings. She goads me torturously until it’s easier to say what I’m thinking than to conceal it.

“And I went to ask them to turn the music down,” I finish, “There, are you happy?”

“Very,” she smiles. 

I pick up the chopped basil, letting the pieces float through my fingers and deciding I need to chop them smaller, still. I whack at the pile haphazardly, ruining the lovely squares I meticulously crafted earlier. 

“They didn’t turn it down, if you were wondering,” I pant, “Pricks.” Christina chuckles to herself.

“No one ever does.”

–

The music of the club is omnipresent as I enter hand in hand with Christina. On my feet are heels too high to be comfortable, but the perfect lift to accentuate my calves. As soon as I cross the threshold, I drag Christina to the bartender, ordering two negronis. We idle by the bar for a moment and I take in my surroundings, savoring the bitter aftertaste of my drink and the waltz of the lights that flicker and cover the dancefloor with reverie. I listen to the synths and flourishes of the melody that envelop my senses. I hadn’t expected to like the music, but the DJ is spinning disco and it just feels right: the cold Italian aperitif, the funky basslines, and the tranquil nighttime air. I almost wish I’d left my phone at home. Nights like these aren’t compatible with phones anyway. The atmosphere feels like a relic of a bygone era, full of free love and intoxication. 

Nina and a friend of hers find Christina and me at the bar and run up to us with inebriated bravado. “You guys made it!” she squeals. Little does she know we were pre-gaming at the villa in anticipation of this exact moment. I couldn’t handle Nina while sober tonight, that much I was absolutely sure of. It also didn’t help that I was alone – for the first time in several years – in a romantic foreign country without the girl whom I still loved. As unhealthy as it was, alcohol made that reality hurt a bit less. Nina grabs my hands and leads Christina and me away from the bar. 

“I need to introduce you to the DJs!” Nina exclaims. I glance at Christina to communicate that no, I’m not particularly enthused at the prospect of meeting some Eurotrash guy whose head is shaved and whose torso is covered in Gucci logos. She returns the glance, silently begging me to behave. I relent.

Nina leads us around the side of the floor to some kind of dark stairwell. Rationally, I should be scared of being kidnapped but my drunken stupor inspires more carelessness than I would usually indulge in. I watch the sway of Christina’s hips and follow her like a lost puppy. Finally, we reach the top and the DJ deck is revealed. It’s shadowy and hazy. To the left is a corner booth with a straight couple making out in a way that really ought to be illegal in public. Past the lookout, laser lights flicker and sweep across the dancefloor, catching on the artificial fog and filling the air with psychedelic color. My eyes fall on the backs of two figures at the DJ booth, smoke rising above their heads. I can make out that one has headphones on and is faffing with the turntable while the other has their hands in the air and the small, flickering glow of a lit cigarette dancing around their figure. I’m dragged towards them by Nina who throws an arm around each of their necks in greeting. As soon as the one with the cig turns around, I catch his eyes.

It’s Matty. Selfish, arrogant Matty. I nod my head and flatten my mouth in a kind of recognition. The room is spinning from the alcohol and my skin is buzzing with discomfort. The bass of the music resonates in my ribs, teaching my heart how to beat. My mouth tastes salty and my knees feel weak. 

I’m running to the corner where I can see a bin. Tears prick at my eyes and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I swiftly empty the contents of my stomach into the small trash can. I kneel on the rough carpet and brace myself on either side of the bin with my hands. Between heaves, I lift my head to shake my hair off the back of my neck. The cool air feels grounding, but I’m soon back with my head in the can. I feel a hand on the back of my head, wrangling my frizzy hair off of my shoulders. I gasp, looking back for the sisterly comfort of Christina’s bottomless, cerulean eyes. Instead, I find a pair of brown, honey-flecked irises: Matty’s. I’m reeling too severely to be upset or confused; I’m just grateful when he uses his free hand to sweep my damp bangs out of my face and nods at me.

“Go on,” he encourages, “better out than in.”

I bury my head in the bucket again. 

“Atta girl,” Matty coos in my ear. I can almost notice his hand rubbing circles on my back. Even when I’m quite sure I’m finished, I keep my head down for a moment savoring the last few seconds that I don’t have to look Matty in the eyes. Curse him for helping me. I wouldn’t know how to interact with him under normal circumstances, much less when he’s been nice to me – and watched me unceremoniously blow chunks into a bin.

“You feel better?” he asks. I lift my head tentatively, still scared another wave of nausea will hit me. 

“I think so, yeah,” I mumble. Matty searches my eyes for any warning sign that I’m still sick.

“Have you got a hair tie?” I instinctually fish in my jeans pocket for one, handing it to him. Slowly, he corrals my locks into a ponytail and secures it, fingers grazing the tops of my ears and making me shiver. I sit back against the wall with my legs splayed out in front of me, knees visibly carpet burnt from my previous position. Matty flops down beside me. He reaches out to touch the red, irritated skin. 

“You don’t need a doctor or something, do you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I hiss when he applies a little pressure to my knee and shake his hands off me, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“When have I not been nice?”

“You wouldn’t turn the music down the other night,” I state. He smiles at me, eyes scrunching up until his pupils are totally obscured. 

“No one ever turns the music down,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus,” he adds, “I thought you were a buzzkill. Now I can see that’s not the case, sweetheart.”

“I can usually handle my drink better than this,” I protest, “And I’m also usually not a buzzkill.”

“I guess I don’t know anything about you, then,” he acquiesces, thinking for a moment, “Do you want to start over?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I nod, smiling tipsily.

“So what’s caused you to be sick tonight?” Matty asks, leaning his head back against the wall. His hair is curled up in perfect ringlets and his skin glows golden even in the dim club light. He looks at me carefully, like his stare could hurt me. It could, I suppose. 

“Alcohol?” I say it like that should be obvious. His face wrinkles up again in a laugh I can vaguely identify as something that’s my fault. He looks pretty. I realize I want to make him do it again and again forever. I want to see the crinkles that grow at the sides of his eyes and the curl of his upper lip that reveals his boyishly crooked teeth.

“I figured as much. Anything in particular that drove you to drink?” I frown for a second, trying to remember. 

“My ex,” I say quietly.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, “that’s the problem. She didn’t do anything.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago?” My god, it’s already been two months.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs,  “that’s still fresh.” I shrug.

“It’s alright I guess. You just feel a little betrayed when someone stops trying. I thought that was the whole point of…” I trail off, gesticulating aimlessly with my hands, “love or whatever. To keep trying.”

“I get it,” he utters. 

“People stop trying with rockstars, too?” I tease. He smiles.

“How did you know that I’m a musician?”

“Well, first of all, I said rockstar–”

“Which I chose to ignore because it was sarcastic.” I roll my eyes.

“And second of all, the girls I’m staying with told me,” I finish. He nods in understanding.

“Well yeah,” he sighs pensively, “people stop trying with everybody. Even rockstars. If I’ve learnt anything in my life, it’s that giving up usually has more to do with them than it does with you.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I argue.

“Nothing does. You just have to let it hurt for a while.”

We’re both quiet for a second. I catch a couple of bars of an Earth, Wind, and Fire song and hum along, content with the silence. I let my head fall onto Matty’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head to look at me.

“Oh fuck, sorry. Is this okay?” I ask, hand flying to my mouth “I know I just puked.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “I just didn’t think you would want to.”

“I want to,” I kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his white button-up shirt. He watches me the whole time as though he can’t quite compute what’s happening. Then he snaps back to his regular confident state.

“Let me know if you ever want to deal with your girlf– ex without drinking your feelings away…” he trails off, mouth meeting the crown of my head, “I’d love to show you around here sometime.”

“Okay,” I mumble, the alcohol, tiredness, and emotions beginning to get the better of me and coax me toward sleep.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matty grabs my hand from my lap and wraps it in his two larger ones, caressing my thumb and humming into my ear.

–

a/n: the next bit is written, but I am still writing the end. smut soon! x

[i-am-church-the-cat]

Logan Sargeant is a silly little guy

@vii-tto idk why but it wouldn't let me tag you. Hopefully you see this. also @spell-of-the-rain i added things if you want to check out 75-87

But here's the list of things i know/want to know about logan sargeant

Favorite Actor is Brad Pitt

Favorite Movie is Wolf of Wall Street

Favorite food is a hamburger

Has a boat and often goes deep sea fishing

Lived in London since he was 15

Lose Yourself by Eminem is his favorite hype up song

Is a Dolphins and Heat fan

Enjoyed “No Man, No Cry” by Jimmy Sax

Drinks iced lattes with oat milk

Pumpkin spice lattes?? Edit 12/16/23: No

Has been to Wimbledon

Knows what cricket is

Has a rescue dog named Coco

Also enjoys hockey Edit 11/1/23: Supports the Florida Panthers NHL team and has gone to at least 1 of their games with his friend Kyle Kirkwood

Does he follow college football?

What does he think of the new Miami head coach? 

If not for motorsport, does he think he would have gone pro in a different sport, and if so which one?

Enjoys listening to 50 Cent (is also a big rap fan in general)

Can he speak any other languages with any degree of familiarity?

Cannot draw

Can make a sandwich (other foods?)

Rates all food from one bite and with weird decimals

Gritty-ed in his f1 car

Makes the Williams photographers look like they take good photos

Does he have an English or a Florida driver’s license? And does he still have US citizenship even though he lives in the UK? What kind of visa is he on?

Top three female athletes? (Serena Williams, Simone Biles, and Megan Rapinoe are all acceptable answers) 

Collects Aussies and Kiwis for friends

Does he like the snow? Prefers the heat but does he like snow?

Does he like Missy Elliot? (Requirement) 

“Basic Halloween Bitch”

Calls people “mate” but in an American accent which will never stop being funny

Eye Crinkles™️

Does not have a set eye color he’s just too mystical for that

Has never been to a concert (presumably too busy with racing)

He can swim, he can drive, but can he ride a bike? Edit 11/15/23: He can indeed ride a bike

American commercial cars or  European ones?

Has an older brother but is like an older brother to Benny’s kid

Likes marshmallows

Does not like black beans

Did not think apple could be chips

Knows how to sail??

Knows how to golf

Can paddle (required for any F1 driver)

Lost the F3 championship in 2020 bc of a DNF in the last race

Can he sing??

Does he drink energy drinks? Red Bull or Monster? 

He and Duracell are passionately making out

Blush is very pretty 

Wears a lot of baseball hats

Somehow beat jet lag (expat king)

Mostly spends his nights in but he has some nights out (presumably very interesting ones)

Has an iPhone with a blue case

He looks very pretty in blue

His eyes are sometimes blue

Blue=fav color?? Edit 11/6/23: favorite color is Ocean blue (credit to @spell-of-the-rain)

Pretty insecure (armchair diagnosed anxiety)

Close with his brother and parents but maybe not his extended family?

Is Florida State his college team?? (Worst thing a man can be is a Florida St fan) Edit 12/16/23: believing that FSU got screwed over this year is acceptable

Did he graduate high school??

Did he ever consider going into NASCAR or did moving to Europe at a young age kind of set in stone his path towards open-wheel racing?

Hair is blond/dirty blond

Does he vote in American elections?? (If he supports RonD I cannot stan)

Burger Sauce™️

Logan Hunter Sargeant, certified Frat Bro, most American man ever

Has seen peaky blinder and presumably stranger things

Knows how to carve a pumpkin but has not celebrated Halloween at home in a bit

Possibly dating some instagram model

Caused $4 million in damages, gets payed $1 million a year, and supposedly brings in $30 million in sponsors

Key phrases: “Locked in”, “Bam/Boom”, “Done and dusted” Additions 11/1/23: "Oh hell yeah", "I think you're a little lost here, Chief". Additions 11/6/23: “Yeh” (gets quieter throughout the word (how it’s one syllable??)), “on the bounce” (credit to @spell-of-the-rain i believe)

Joined the Williams Driver Academy in 2021 

Got stuck in F3 bc he didn’t have the money to move up

Driver for Carlin in 2022

Former teammates include Liam Lawson, Oscar Piastri, Frederick Vesti (Edit 11/6/23: Max Fewtrell possibly?)

DOB: December 31, 2000

5'11

Had a giveaway for gloves he used to win an F4 race on Twitter in 2017 and both Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell replied

Originally his number was 3 but he switched to 2 for F1 (to much fan consternation who thought he had so many better options)

Childhood best friends with Kyle Kirkwood, a current Indycar driver

Logan's older brother Dalton raced in NASCAR until 2018

Did a commercial for Sport23

Does not have cowboy boots as of COTA 2023

Born in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida, USA

lived in Switzerland from 14-15(?)

knows the conversion rate for a kilometer

is taller than a tuna fish

Podiumed at the Macau Grand Prix in 2019

Won the CIK-FIA championship when he was 14 Additions as of 11/1/23

Loves waffles but they are not his favorite dessert

Very patriotic (oh hell yeah)

is the first American F1 point scorer in 30 years and the first one to score on home soil since 1989

Went to see the Nets in NYC (but would have preferred to see the Knicks)

has a custom Miami Dolphins jersey with his last name on the back

Claims to know all the lyrics to "Ice Ice Baby" (credit to @formulaaone) (Edited 11/6/23)

Additions as of 11/6/23:

Under the same talent agency as Alex Albon

Has the same manager as George Russell

George Russell was his mentor coming up

Went to a catholic private school (credit to @wenevrknew)

Does not like fish? (Credit to @spell-of-the-rain)

He runs weird (in my opinion as he reminds me of my brother when he was 12 (he ran very strangely))

Karted in Las Vegas when he was a kid

Can he drive a stick shift? (Alex believes he cannot)

Enjoys video games

Refers to his car as “she”

Knew how to attach a visor to his helmet prior to February(? Could’ve been March but before the season) 2023

Additions as of 12/16/23

Broke his arm in a 2014 German Karting Championship when Marcus Armstrong took him out at T1 (credit to @spell-of-the-rain )

Has gotten his head eaten by the Golden Knights mascot

If he could have any superpower, he would like to teleport

Has never flown a drone

Favorite racing movie is Talladega Nights (sad Mater noises)

Does not trust other people to drive him

Would rather sleep in then get up early

Considers himself fairly organized

His mother makes a very good sweet potato casserole

Got his habit of worrying from his mom

“Santa’s Little Helper”

Driving for Williams Racing Formula 1 Team in 2024

Got out qualified by his teammate every race of 2023

[swtnrcmnt]

୨୧ — s.r x singer!r; headcanons (1)

pairing: post prison!spencer x singer!reader

feeding into my daydreams..

also, this was prompted by scrolling through radiant-reid's spencer x famous!reader posts which i love because they simply fuel my daydreams even more :)) enjoy !

probably met on a case or something of that sort. he also studied in la at one point so they possibly could have met through a mutual friend but tbh her being a target is most likely!

penelope is obviously a very big fan. like out of all the people on the team, she's probably the one who listens to y/n's music the most, maybe even went to one of her concerts

oh my god just think about the sweet little love songs. :'(( ugh imagine spence getting all flustered when it gets released and the whole team is just playing the song 24/7 to tease him

most likely didn't have any social media beforehand. but after dating y/n he decided to get instagram or maybe twitter just to see her posts and literally only post her on his feed because she's just so pretty and cute to post

oh my.. imagine the fans the first time y/n ever posts a photo of spencer in a photo dump !! and his reaction to all the comments and tweets, he's just so confused why people want him to hit them with a truck he's like ??? "that would be fatal, why would they thank me for that?"

also yes this is post prison reid because he was just 10x hotter than he already was once he was released. argue with the wall.

guys !! award shows with spencer !! that would be everything !!

he would be so supportive of every win too :(( even if you were only nominated or just there to perform he would still be so so proud as if you did win something

he's for sure for sure the first person to hear every song. unless it's about him. those one's are usually a surprise.

ugh imagine putting a soundbite of him somewhere in a song. maybe at the end or beginning and it's just a small bit of a voicemail or video that you two filmed together just having fun. or possibly something spicy but... shhhhhhhhh

comes to every fitting, every rehearsal. hell, maybe even on tour as well if he gets time off from the bau. especially since he would already be used to the whole 'flying around every other day' thing from cases.

whenever they have a case in california he always always makes sure to stay behind a few days to hang out with you especially because him being in dc and always travelling for work would mean long distance

and if you're not on tour you decide to stay in dc for a while or even move there (while still having property in california) so that you get to be with him anytime he's home

having a concert in dc !! ofc he invites everyone (as if garcia wasn't already planning on going anyway lmaoo) so they could all see and probably meet you

if this is pre prison!reid, and hotch was still unit chief, he would for sure give spence a whole lecture about how careful he has to be with dating somebody with such a high profile profession, because he knows how high risk celebrities are to stalkers and home invasions

the whole team is very very supportive of them though, even if it's long distance because they find a way to make it work.

also best believe she gets spence an actual iPhone as a gift so that they can facetime when either one of them is away

him playing the piano in one of your songs awhhhh :( and he has writing or producing credits on it

you already know that whoever is driving puts on y/n's music just to tease him. ESPECIALLY IF IT'S A SPICY SONG ehehehe

ugh but if it's a really sad song for example "decode" by sabrina carpenter (which is absolutely heartbreaking lyrically but i highly recommend u listen to it) he gets all sad because he knows exactly what it's about and remembers when you first wrote it

ok i have to stop myself before i go absolutely ham on headcanons. i have so many thoughts about this trope.

hope u enjoyed !

part two | part three

[skz-sarang]

. . . - ̗̀ ౨ৎ WHAT’S ? ! ? IN MY 👜 BAG ، . ˓ ִֶָ 𖥔

Lovey is a girl with a lot of style, and she has a particular love for accessories, especially bags and shoes, she has a wardrobe full of them galore.

she has many bags, of various sizes, each for a different situation, for example, to go out in the evening she uses rather small handbags, and very often of known brands such as miu miu, prada, chanel or so on. Very often gifted by other members ambassadors of certain brands, such as the two louis vuitton bags given to Sarang by Felix.

to go out daily instead, she prefers a bag large enough to let in everything she needs. The bag he currently uses is a puffer tote bag of the brand ‘my mum made it’ in cream color.

౨.&&. . . ELECTRONIC SUPPLIES! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

... iphone, ipad, airpods, airpods max ... in short, sarang is a apple products’ lover (she also has the apple watch on her wrist !! ) . In addition to the phone, which explains itself, lovey carries the iPad in her bag every day, because it helps her to work, recording her own rehearsals or taking notes for new lyrics; and headphones because her life is made of music, and she can’t do anything without it. It also has a charger and a powerbank.

౨.&&. . . GLASSES! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Sarang has vision problems, which is why he uses eyeglasses. A pair of spare glasses, with contact lenses and eye drops, can’t be missing in his bag. Plus a pair of branded sunglasses for the sunniest days.

౨.&&. . . BEAUTY ESSENTIALS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Lovey never leaves home without a collection of beauty essentials to keep her looking fresh and fabulous throughout the day. Her bag includes: lip balm and lip gloss to keep her lips moisturized and shiny, compact mirror for quick touch-ups, Hand cream to ensure her hands are always soft and smooth, Travel-sized perfume and a little Makeup pouch with items like mascara, eyeliner, and a mini brush set for any necessary touch-ups.

౨.&&. . . WELLNESS ITEMS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Health and wellness are important to Lovey, so she carries a few essential items to take care of herself: hand sanitizer, wet wipes, pads and tampons, tissues, first aid kit (Including band-aids, pain relievers, and any personal medications.) She also has a baby pink reusable water bottle to stay hydrated on the go and some healthy snacks such as nuts or granola bars for a quick energy boost.

౨.&&. . . MISCELLANEOUS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Lovey's bag contains a variety of miscellaneous items that she finds useful such as a planner or notebook for jotting down ideas, plans, or reminders; pen and pencil for writing in her planner or notebook and hair ties and clips.

౨.&&. . . ESSENTIALS! ⋆ ｡ ˚ ⋆

Last but definitely not least there are three essentials items which Sarang can’t do without: her Keys, with a pink my melody keychain; her wallet containing her ID, her drivers license, credit cards and some cash; and the jyp badge to get into the entertainment.

Lovey's bag is a perfect reflection of her organized, stylish, and prepared personality. Each item serves a purpose, ensuring she is ready for any situation that comes her way.

©2024 , skz-sarang masterlist

!TAGLIST! : @smh-anon (send an ask to be added to the taglist!)

[haleswallows]

What's that, more Tim and Fright Knight? Don't mind me, I'll just leave this here for you.

Teaser:

Well. Tim guesses this might be it. It's late afternoon, too early for Batman to be on patrol. Tim smothers any hopes about Robin saving him. The headline in the papers, whispered speculation at school, Jason Todd missing, Robin notably absent from the skies of Gotham, Batman's new viciousness, not even petty criminals immune to his wrath. Tim refuses to say it out loud.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because Tim is getting mugged. And no one is going to come for him. Because he's thirteen and it's too early for Batman to patrol and Tim should have been smarter.

Turns out walking home from the library is dangerous in Gotham! Who knew?

Tim knew. Tim knew and stayed late anyways. Tim knew and walked alone towards the bus stop. Tim knew and now he's in a grimy Gotham alleyway, staring down a mugger.

The guy has at least a foot and probably a hundred pounds on Tim. Which is why it was so easy for him to drag Tim into an alley. He's asking for Tim’s money but all he has is his skateboard, bus pass and the ‘for emergencies only’ credit card in Jack Drake's name. Of course, that pisses off the mugger.

Tim's head meets brick, slammed and held in place by his shoulder. His teeth clatter and he doesn't get a chance to think too hard about it because a knife is being jabbed into his side.

“Rich kid like you? You're lying you don't have cash. Give me your phone.” The muggers's breath is rank. Tim doesn't want to give up his phone. Firstly because he doesn't know when Jack and Janet will be home again to get another phone. Secondly because this guy's breath is gross.

“I only have a shitty old iPhone. Not even Wayne Tech.” There's a taste of blood in Tim’s mouth as he speaks. Gross, must've bit his tongue.

“You must think I'm real fuckin’ dumb.” 

“I'm not lying!” Tim lies. “I broke my last phone. My parents won't buy me a new one so I learn to treat my things with respect.” 

[everytechever]

Home Credit Qwarta made Lazada shopping easier

Home Credit’s Qwarta clients can top up their Lazada wallets using Qwarta credits making online shopping and checking out even easier! #HomeCredit #Lazada #Qwarta #HomeCreditQwarta #finance #loan #lifestyle #everytechever

In the past years, there has been a dramatic shift in consumers’ shopping behaviors. From trying on clothes in actual boutiques and pushing carts along grocery aisles, Filipino consumers are now taking most of their shopping online — doing virtual try-ons, filling up their digital carts, and checking out those purchases through swipes and clicks. And this trend is not going anywhere as more and…

[kimhortons]

nakakatuwa pala sa threads no? haha. may nabasa akong random post dun na gusto niya raw ng iphone, pero ayaw niya daw ng isang bagsakan kasi masyadong mabigat. gusto niya daw ng installment, sabay bigla nag tanong if sino raw willing magpa swipe or GGives installment. napa salubong yung dalawang kilay ko na natawa ng onte, kasi magtatanong ka sa public ng ganon, as if merong stranger na papayag magpa utang ano? hehe. pero natuwa ako sa mga replies sakanya ng ibang users dun, binigyan siya ng ibang option, either kumuha siya ng sarili niyang cc, mag home credit, mag postpaid or mag delayed gratification. isa lang ata nabasa kong medyo negative dun, subtle pa. hehe. wala lang, kung sa Facebook or Twitter siguro yun, na bash na siya haha. ano bang meron sa threads at parang puro responsible people who know how to use social media right ang andun? hahaha. di naman ako masyadong natambay sa Threads, nag babasa lang ako dun minsan pag natripan ko. wala pa masyadong katoxican. lalang skl. hehe

[tommos]

one direction history post: strange merch

hi everyone! i'm starting a small series of one direction history posts just to combine my interests in both history and the boys. these won't be super in depth, more so showing and telling. this first post is about some weird and strange merch choices one direction's marketing team has attempted to sell us throughout the years. i got these screenshots from the wayback machine looking at onedirectionstore.com, their official store. they are separated by era solely based on what was present on their shop at the time of each of the boys albums. these merch items are not a reflection of the albums themselves (which you'd think their merch team would try to appeal more to the aging fanbase as years went on), they all seem to me to be more geared toward how much they can attempt to get us buy. i now present to you the weirdest, most dated one direction merch i could find <3 enjoy

X Factor - Up All Night

what is this for, who is this for, why is this one of the first accessory items ever posted on the one direction store??? what was the initial demographic of the one direction fanbase?? idk when i was 10 i didn't need this, i would enjoy one now though

if you guys remember silly bandz, you are a veteran.. also give us toledoans credit where it's due because one of ours invented these bad boys

finally my iphone 4 will be decked out in the one direction collectors set

this was also the start of their personalized messages section of merch you could buy. surprise your loved one with heartfelt messages such as 'birthday girl' or 'merry christmas daughter'

Take Me Home

from here on out, this and two other photos are the only photos their team decided to make merch with. there is two other duvet sets that use those other photos, even in their later eras

sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat remembering these existed. if i can find my louis mask, i will wear it to fitfwt

if any of you have this keyring or the singing toothbrush, send me a clip of it singing please or if it is able to sing. i am so curious im on the edge of my seat

NAIL TEMPORARY TATTOOS

Midnight Memories

i literally do not know what this has to do with music, one direction, or anyone associated with one direction

i need to point out, these one direction watches came in literally every single color you could imagine. i do not know why they are merched inside of a can?? but they were the it-girl of their merch during this era

speaking of cans, WHAT IS THIS

would any of you fine people want to buy a 1d girls glitter strap shoe? it is merch like this that really reminds me one direction was moreso a brand than a band to their team

Four

kudos to their team for picking a more recent photo for the era, but also who would want this

do you guys remember the craze of this specific type of lamp

if the scooter isn't your speed, how about this one direction 16" cruiser bike make with old uan era font, color schemes, and photos?

Made In The AM

i am only putting this mitam find in here to point out something that i found crazy. this shirt was on the one direction merch website only one month after march 25th, you can see how quickly their merch team shelled out merch without zayn on it. i didn't include anymore, but even their on the road again tour merch on the website quickly had zayn erased

i hope you guys all enjoyed this weird trip down memory lane if you can call it that, and liked looking at some of the weird merch their team used to sell. this is only stuff that stood out to me, i'm sure there's a lot more somewhere so if you have any, send them to me or feel free to add onto this post. if you own any of these, ESPECIALLY THE BIKE, please add a pic of them to this post lol

[lunarsilkscreen]

Value of Money

"When demand on [currency] goes up, its value goes down." - shameless self quote

I've written at length about the axiom I'm claiming to have invented. Now; I wanna go into the chain of events that lead to this axiom.

Many will decry Bernie Sander's and the Democrats, and socialists, and liberal media for using [minimum wage increase] as a key position. This is because arguably; the price of the things that those living on minimum wage might buy will increase in value.

Like food stuffs; which doesn't increase in purchase rates when consumers have more money to spend. It increases in price when it costs more to produce. However; a lot of food {nearly half in America} goes to waste (it goes bad before use). Which suggests; that farmers overproduce expecting that most of their produce goes to waste.

This ensures that ingredients are really available when you or I go to purchase them. Prices on unprocessed raw ingredients and bulk foodstuffs remain fairly stagnant. Because most prices that Farmers have to pay are to their corporate overlords, like Monsanto, or their local credit Union. (And to a lesser extent property taxes on land zoned for agriculture)

What we are seeing now isn't a price hike on the low end raw ingredients; but on processed foods, sodas, alcohol, fish, meat and dairy.

Why is this?

Well; we must first ask: why are those working minimum wage jobs asking for wage increases at all?

This has to do with the total cost of living. Electric and water prices remain a concern for your average person; and since the entire world is digital now; electricity usage rates are at an all time high.

Then the fact that the housing market is at an all time high, and prices to rent, along with discerning landlords; means that the bottleneck is at these prices (housing) overall, and to a lesser extent; prices of food that pay money to individuals who work in the supply chain after it leaves the farm.

Brand new video games after all are still 15-60$. So it's not entertainment's fault. Tesla might've increased the cost of their newest car; but that's more likely because Tesla's sales overall have dropped.

The value of money drops when demand on it increases.

What causes higher demand on currency? One could say that it's greedy people being greedy. Asking for more money because they can and that's it. They want the latest iPhone and Tesla Truck! Every year! (As opposed to when you need to buy one and can afford new)

It's not that. It's Debt. When the bank comes knocking, then the Lendees (the ones who borrowed money) need to pay it back; and before you go off on college students who are still working minimum wage because jobs can't afford to hire them; remember--This is affecting corporations like Tesla, Apple, Google, and Disney

All of who have cut back spending, and are still having trouble meeting their obligations.

(But record profits!)

Profits include money made over money spent, but not necessarily money borrowed. Because money borrowed is an operating cost. With a monthly payment to repay the loan; record profits could be made, and the company still needs to worry about paying back that loan.

Which means they (the corporations) expect sales to continue decreasing.

The National Debt (the amount of money currently in circulation, including bonds and other obligations) is *not* the same as the cumulative debt in the nation (the total amount of debt held by individuals and company's and any-entity-else the banks have lent to) which is a far more important indicator.

The National Debt goes down as tax money is collected and returned to the federal government. But the cumulative debt only goes down as people make a profit, and pay theirs back. This includes workers at minimum wage (who need to afford homes and a vehicle to get to work on time, or a bus pass if they live near a bus station that also goes to their place of work.)

Web search about the ease (or difficulty) to get a loan right now returns results like this article from CNN that talks about the decrease of loans being given out. Loan rejections are up for people with low indicator of default (failure to make payments.)

The banks aren't giving money as freely because they also have met their limits. And so we have this [inflation] issue. Debts can't be paid, so people raise prices in order to pay their debts on time; rising prices mean less sales, less sales mean more defaults, and the cycle continues.

Which again suggests outright; demand on currency is high. Demand on goods? Very low. Luxury Goods? Even lower.

Will increasing minimum wage help? Will forgiving debts? Will we be able to escape this black hole? Find out on the next episode of; "Somehow the entire world is in debt to itself, and it can't pay itself back."

[spousesolution]

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