#i grew up on hand me downs and coupon clipping

[littlechivalry]

Threshold

Post-UD, everybody lives. Established Steddie

-

Eddie couldn't do it. He turned, ready to run, but Steve's hand clamped down on his arm like an iron manacle.

"Fuck you, let me go," Eddie hissed.

"Like hell I will," Steve replied, just as harshly. "You have to do this, you're the only one who can."

"I'd rather die."

The sales clerk cleared her throat and Eddie snapped his mouth shut.

"Are you-- can I help you find anything else," she said softly, her hands open in front of her.

"No," Steve replied. "Just this."

'This' was a vacuum cleaner. An upright vacuum cleaner with hose attachment and a retractable cord. A one hundred dollar vacuum cleaner.

Eddie felt sick. He pulled his hand away and Steve let it go awkwardly. Eddie cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, just this." He pulled out his wallet and passed over the money. Signing the warranty card in a messy scrawl.

They walked out of the store and loaded the vacuum into the back of Steve's truck.

Steve and Eddie had gotten to the car in silence but once the doors were closed it started.

"Babe," Steve said, his voice soft but firm. "What was that about? We agreed we need a new vacuum. Wayne's old one gave up the ghost and the carpet sweeper does nothing. I thought this was cool."

Eddie groaned and rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes. "It's not-- it's just..."

He couldn't find the words and Steve didn't press him. The interior of the truck's cab was quiet, windows muffling the noise of other shoppers moving through the parking lot, the occasional sound of their radios drifting on the air.

Eddie took a few breaths, heard Steve do the same beside him - in - out - in - out

"Can I check in," Steve says after a few breaths.

"Almost," Eddie replies and they go back to breathing.

This time Eddie breaks the silence. "It's real, right?"

"Real," Steve echoes. "The vacuum? Yeah?"

"It's -- the vacuum we have now? Wayne got it from the Johnsons before they moved to go live with their kids in Des Moines. It was a really good vacuum. Lasted, like. Seven years. The one before that Wayne found in the trash. It needed some fixing up and the hose had to be taped together but it ran for two years."

Steve hums, just a considering noise to show he's listening but leaving Eddie some spacw to talk. Eddie cannot explain how much he appreciates that.

"The stove was a store display they were gonna toss out because the wiring was bad. The couch was abandoned on a curb up in Loch Nora. Most of my clothes come from the Goodwill; Wayne's too, even his work boots. My guitar, my sweetheart, is a hand-me-down to I don't know how many degrees."

Eddie sighs and tips his head back against the headrest. The ceiling of the cab is upholstered in dark blue fabric. Eddie drags his fingers over it.

"Munsons don't get new things, Steve. Not nice ones, anyway." He blew out a rough breath. "I know this is stupid. It's just a vacuum cleaner, but--"

"Don't say that," Steve interrupted. "If I don't get to say stupid neither do you."

Eddie reached over the gear shift and clasped the hand Steve offered.

"Okay," Steve said. "Do you... should we return the vacuum?"

"No," Eddie said. "No, that's not the answer. We-- I have the money. I can afford a new vacuum, a nice one."

"A really nice one."

"And it's okay to buy new things."

"It really is," Steve said.

Eddie nodded. "We're grown ups now, Stevie. Got good jobs, a nice apartment, a fancy new vacuum cleaner. What's next, a picket fence? 2.5 kids and a dog?"

Steve smiled and pulled Eddie's hand up to his face, pressed a kiss against his knuckles before letting go and reaching for the ignition. "I'm allergic to dogs but let's get home and we can start working on kids."

Eddie reached out for Steve, pulling him across the armrest into a fierce kiss.

Steve fell back into his seat, a bright flush in his cheeks. "Wow," Steve said, starting the car. "What are you gonna do when we buy a house?"

The radio came to life but Eddie could barely hear it over his own laughter.

[truthdarespinbottles]

So jealous you got the cardigan omg!! What do you mean by grwoing up solidly "middle class" like what does that consist of? And what do you mean your mom was lower middle class?

My mom grew up comfortable, but with few to no luxuries - my mom grew up in the 70s and was the youngest of six kids; if she wanted nice, new clothing that wasn't a hand-me-down or something a friend lent her, she had to earn the money and/or make it herself because there wasn't a lot of money to spare. She has some pictures where she creatively styled hand-me-downs from her older brothers. My grandparents all grew up during the Great Depression, and were anxious about money. My mom always knew where her next meal was coming from, but never traveled beyond her California suburb unless it was a school trip to San Francisco a couple hours away (which she always earned scholarships for) or to her grandparents' house in Nevada.

By solidly middle class, I mean I grew up more comfortably in the 2000s. I grew up in Iowa and we went camping and visited theme parks in Wisconsin Dells every summer. I'm the fourth kid out of five but while I had my share of hand-me-downs, I also got my own new clothes. My sisters and I were able to do sports every year and had piano lessons. If something needed repairs, my parents had savings to help cover the costs and could make payments on loans. My dad worked full time and my mom worked part-time once my little brother started kindergarten. The recession in '08 really hurt us financially, I remember that, but my paternal grandparents were able to help us out.

In the 2010s my dad got a big shot job in his field, we moved across the country to Las Vegas, and suddenly we could afford nicer things. We had a pool!! I went to Disneyland for the first time, and when I was a senior in high school my parents got me a really good second-hand car that I drove until it got totaled by a texting teenager a few years ago. My dad has gotten a few promotions since and has actually become a semi-public figure. He was featured in a magazine for his field a couple months ago and was a driving force behind getting covid vaccines to the homeless in Las Vegas. My mom has become a bit bougie - she gets her dogs those monthly subscription boxes with special treats and toys, she got me and my husband our eras tour tickets for Christmas back in 2022, and she goes to Disneyland with her sister at least once a year since that's something they could only dream of doing as kids.

My family is very privileged, but my mom has experienced a wide range of financial situations. She clipped coupons with her mom every week as a teenager, but today she doesn't have to think about how much she spends on groceries unless she's getting, like, super high quality steak or something abnormally expensive.

[fuck-customers]

Buy My Silence for One ($1) Dollar

This woman came through my line today with a cartload of stuff and, as I'm ringing it out, she says "I have an employee discount."

Okay, whatever, I tell her to punch her rewards card number in and she does, she's either an employee at another store or married/related to an employee at another store. Our discounts give us 15% off regular items and 25% off our store brand items, which isn't too bad I think.

As I'm about halfway, this older woman gets in line behind us with her daughter. Both women clearly struggle walking (they both have canes and the older one was clinging to the cart as they got to the front) so I speed up a little to try and get this woman out faster so I can ring up the two women and they can get off their feet.

I'm ringing the last item through when Lady 1 (C from here on out) says "oh theres a coupon for those trash bags in the book."

Okay, I look through our coupon book annnndddd nothing. I tell her this, she insists its there, and starts paging through the book page by page. Now, its just me and my one manager there, who was stuck in pharmacy, so I was literally the only person who could ring, and there were now two other people behind the old woman and her daughter.

Getting a little antsy, I suggest that maybe the coupon is on our app. This woman pulls out her phone and then goes "where's the app on my phone?"

I almost face palmed.

As I help her try to find this stupid app, Old Woman starts muttering under her breath about how annoying C is. She starts rummaging in her purse, and I offer to run and grab a chair from photo for them to sit in.

She says no thank you and I turn back to C, who has FINALLY found the app and pulled it up. I walk her through how to get to the weekly coupons, she clicks clip....

And shes not signed in.

OW sighs loudly, which I felt to my very core, and I ask C to log in. She types her username and password in and lo and behold, its wrong. She tries another. Wrong. Says "I really wanted that dollar off" and goes in for another try.

I understand wanting the coupons you anticipated, I do, but when there are five people in line and two of them are clearly disabled and struggling to stand up.....pick your battles, yeesh. Or come back for them later.

Meanwhile, OW pulls her wallet out of her purse, opens it, yanks out a dollar, and says, "ma'am if I give you a dollar will you fucking pay?"

SHE DOESNT HEAR HER. SHE KEEPS TYPING

Im struggling so hard not to lose my shit bc honestly it was exactly what I'd been thinking and I'm at a point where I can no longer help C move faster.

OW speaks up again. "Ma'am. If I give you this FUCKING dollar will you FUCKING LEAVE?"

Oh my god everyone in line was LOSING IT and it was all I could do to maintain a straight face.

C huffs a little and shuts her phone off. "I guess I don't NEED the dollar off."

Hallelujah, praise the lord, I finally ring her up and get her out. OW sets her vitamins down, sets her hand on the counter, and says, "you have the patience of a saint, I was going to offer her a five if she'd kept going."

And again, before anyone gets pissy: if she'd really needed the coupon, she could have taken the trash bags off and stepped out of line to try and remember her password instead of STANDING THERE for LITERALLY five minutes while my line grew.

Tldr; lady takes forever to find a dollar off coupon on her phone, disabled woman behind her offers her a dollar in cash to hurry tf up

[ebthecelebrity]

Don’t Let Mercury Retrograde Get You F*cked Up!

With the Mercury Retrograde in effect until July 31st, I have definitely been quieter. This is the dreadful time of the year where planet Mercury moves in an opposite direction to planet Earth.  Mercury is the planet associated with Communication. As a major believer in astrology, I have always been intrigued with the planets and stars and am a big believer that we are balls of energy walking on earth.  

Energy never lies.

With the retrograde miscommunication, technical errors, and angry verbal blow-ups are expected. This is the time to OBSERVE, NOT ABSORB. If you observe the energy around you, you don’t have to absorb none of it. Remember, every action doesn’t deserve a reaction.  With this being said, over the past week, I have been observant and really shaking my damn head at the things I am seeing with grown ass adults. I mean,  do I really have to write this article on etiquette?  Why yes, yes I do. Somewhere, we lost our integrity and human empathy. From childish social media posts, petty family members and high school equivalent drama at work, the retrograde’s energy is suffocating me!  It could very well be the energy bouncing off the retrograde, or it could simply be the lack of decent manners.  

I wanted to share 8 etiquette rules that I live by.  Remind you, I am only 36 years young and I have a lot to learn.  Some of these, I, too, must remember and never step outside of the lines of respect. No one is perfect. If you are over 30 years old and you have to be reminded of these, it’s time to sit down, self reflect and repair your behavior.  

1.  When dropping a friend/lover/family member off at their home, wait until they have fully unlocked their door and went inside their house before leaving.  I can’t tell you how much this bothers my spirit.  It screams, “IDGAF if you truly get home safe or not.”  A similar situation I had to learn from was when I was in my early 20s.  I dated a guy who lived in a not so great part of town.  After a night of clubbing, drinking excessively and even sexual relations, this guy would carelessly fall asleep.  I would too sometimes but then realize I had to wake up to head home as it was still dark outside. This guy would never wake up, causing me to venture outside alone.  My first pet peeve with this is if you can’ t handle your alcohol, don’t overindulge and leave your date to fend for themselves.  I would always say a silent prayer that once I walked outside to my car no one would be hiding behind some bushes to kidnap or rob me.  This behavior is inexcusable.  Always make sure your loved one is fully in the house before driving off.  I am not only discussing this as something to be aware of in bad neighborhoods, but what if that person lost their keys and their phone was dead?

2.   Please don’t talk loudly on the phone in public.   Okay, we have ALL done this. Sometimes you are knee deep into a conversation that just can’t be finished when you walk inside the store, however, to be loud and obnoxious is NOT the business.  The other day my son and I were in Food Lion picking up a few groceries.  I was strategically looking at the barbeque sauces.  Reading the back of each bottle with the goal to find the one with the least amount of artificial ingredients and no high fructose corn syrup.  Two young girls came into the store and were engaged in a phone conversation via face time with someone. “Ayeeee! It’s a hot girl summer girl! Turn up! Drink something!” I rolled my eyes in annoyance. Then, the worst happened, they strolled right down the sauce aisle where I casually stood.  The loud laughter, yelling and inappropriate conversation almost sent me over the edge. Mind you, it’s a place and a time to turn up. Hell, I still partake in a light turn up periodically.  As we age, many of us find perfect peace in the comfort of our home.  We dread leaving home to visit the grocery store, hair salon, barbershop, riding public transportation, doctor’s office, etc due to this very reason.  It’s instant anxiety.  I understand that not all public places are quiet, but it would be a lot more enjoyable if we all respected each other’s peace in any environment. PS: It’s still a hot girl summer though, but can we leave the grocery store out of it? Thanks Megan Thee Stallion J

3. Call before you stop over someone’s house.  As stated before, your home is your haven; therefore, if you see someone pop up in the driveway without a prior notice, proceed to ignore the doorbell.  Now, back in the day, this may have been common as the development of technology left room for unexpected guests.  Now in the 21stCentury, we communicate via phone or text.  You can also send a dm, type it in a status update, or email the other party.  There are too many ways to communicate a visit to show a lack of respect of popping up. The next time you even think this is a good idea, ask yourself if the other party possibly worked a long shift, has to cook dinner for their family, has extensive house chores or may be trying to find the energy to do homework with a young child.  To selfishly barge into someone’s structured day without notice, even to drop off an item cannot be tolerated.

4.  Never go to a party empty handed.  Please do not be this person!  I don’t know a single soul that is not on a budget.  Even the wealthiest of people enjoy Wendys “4 for 4” and clips coupons.  Any working, middle class individual knows that throwing any type of party can be costly. You have to brace yourself for the upcoming energy bill after your summer party for the amount of air condition that you provided the guests.  Freeloaders are not welcome in 2019 and beyond.  This shit stops TODAY!   If you know someone who does this, it’s time to take his or her name off the guest list going forward.  I sit back and am puzzled on how can people show up to an event held in the comfort of another’s home and just “show up.”   Unless the host advises you that you don’t need to bring anything,  that would be the only time to show up empty handed.  It can be as small as a bag of ice or paper cups to as large as a sheet cake or a bucket of fried chicken.  My go to is always a bottle of wine.  You can never go wrong with that.  Worst case scenario, no one drinks it and you finish the bottle yourself.

4.  If you borrow money and it took you longer than expected to pay that person back, give a little interest.  Okay, hear me out.  Many of us have loaned a close person some money and they haven’t been able to pay us back in time.  We thank God that we are able to help, but there is also that possibility that your own finances get messed up in the process. I have witnessed people getting a loan from someone who are awaiting their loan to be paid back.  It could be as little as $30, which may be the monthly Internet bill.  If we were all able to acquire a loan from major banks, we’d all be paying interest anyway.

5. Never put your phone on the table while eating a meal with a guest.  I’ve struggled with this the most. I’ve learned that sacred time is just that, SACRED.  After you’ve snap chatted a pic of your delicious plate of food, place your phone in a purse or pocket and engage. In the constant need of communication and the fast paced social media interactions, having the phone on the table screams that the phone is your guest, and not your physical one.  Taking a break off technology for some old fashioned conversation is the new wave.  As soon as the meal is over, then you can check the 56 likes and notifications you received on the pics of your crab legs.

6. Don’t try to build a romantic relationship over the text messages. Tinder, Bumble, POF, and the many other dating applications have made it very convenient to meet potential mates over the phone, but once you have had that icebreaker, what’s next?  This is a lazy approach to continue to court someone you are very interested in via text.  How would you know that you hate the way they chew without more in person interaction? I understand that sometimes many introverted people urge to date too.  Being standoffish and contacting via text message will only cause the other party to look the other way when they find someone who starts actually making plans with them. Getting to know a person takes physical contact, not sex, just physical chemistry. It’s important to see if a person’s energy matches yours.  Instead, call and say “I’m making breakfast, come by”, “ face time to ask them how their day went and analyze their facial expressions or plan a weekend date at the park to have some one on one.  Actions are proven to show great results in terms of dating and for the life of God, STOP TEXTING “WYD” !

7.  Stop asking a Black Woman if she is wearing a wig/weave.  * sigh *  The fact that I am saying this in 2019 is beyond me.  I love to change my hair up, as it gives me a sense of empowerment.  I grew up thinking my hair needed to be straightened and while there is nothing wrong with that, I have grown into acceptance of the hair that grows out of my scalp. I worked with a woman who always made a big deal about when I changed my hair. In our 9 am weekly meetings, she would broadcast to the entire staff that I have new hair.  I felt all eyes on my scalp, many wondering if it was grown out of my scalp or not.  This irritated the shit out of me. I am here to do a job, not to be discussed. Please do not ask a black woman, “Is all that your hair?”  You can be another black woman and do this, making it unacceptable. Unless that woman puts the information out there for your curiosity,  then please just don’t.  Purchasing an additional hairpiece is not anyone’s business.  A simple, “Your hair looks great!” compliment will suffice.  

8. Never, Ever, Ever, Ever, EVER tell someone they look like they gained weight! This is self explainatory.  I don’t have to go any further. Next person who tells me this, WILL get punched in the face. 

Now, this is just a few and I am confident there are many many more etiquette practices that we can live by.  If you know me personally, this is not a jab at you.  It’s simple rules to live by.  Let’s make the world a better and more caring place by practicing respect and love at all times.  Now, let me go sage my entire house and myself.  Time to meditate, pray and just observe. Happy Self Care Sunday!

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

Complementary (Collins x OC) Chapter 22: Afternoon

Summary: Ignorance is bliss and some people prefer to keep things that way. Some people break that ignorance for them.

AN: Boy howdy this is a long chapter but I figure I deserved this as do you guys for sticking with this story. 

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Mornings were always a pain. It took at least half an hour to adjust to the new aches and groans of her body everytime she woke. It wasn’t aided by Lilly’s appearance at Genevieve’s new flat. She’d claimed that she had only popped over for tea and had ended up re-arranging the flat twice and critiquing Genevieve’s choice in career for fifteen minutes. Only now was she going to pick up her son.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Lilly slowly pulled on her light brown trench coat to delay her departure.

Genevieve rolled her eyes at her sister’s persistent questions, wishing she would just leave her be.

“Yes, I’m sure, Lilly,” She ushered her out of the door with the end of her stick (which she’d rather taken a liking to after a year of distaste), “Now go pick up your son! I have to finish those manuscripts now.”

“Ok, well you can let me know if you need anything and I’ll be right over,” Lilly continued with her voice speeding up until Genevieve closed the door. With raised eyebrows and a short exhale through the nose, Genevieve listened to her sister walking down the stairs and safely out of range. After a brief breather, she shuffled back into her drab flat, the telltale three stomps echoing about it.

It was small with minimal effort put into decorating, furniture and “homey-touches” as Lilly had put it. The beige and cream walls really juxtaposed the faded green sofa, dotted with stains and lumps, and the tiny desk in the corner. The view from the window wasn’t much better, the dreary street below faced gaps in the terraced houses where bombs had found their target.

Lowering herself into a chair, Genevieve leant the cane against the desk and began the extravagant cover of a card, her quill twirling around with practised control. Thank God, she was right-handed or else her injury would’ve made her a teacher. Lord knows the length her patience would need to be to deal with those shits on the daily.

Thank God, also, that the war was over. Of course, the damage was still present and would take years, nee decades, to recover but the fighting was done and Genevieve had made it back home almost in one piece. Her arm was still a pain sometimes but bearable and her cane, while certainly helpful, was not a permanent fixture. Though there was still a piece she hoped had come home too. But ignorance was bliss and she hadn’t dared to make the trek down to South London, all to find out that he hadn’t returned and that he never would.

Bittersweet nostalgia caught her off-guard again as she saw the tin underneath her pencil pot. Inside, letters tied up in the same frayed twine. Amidst them were a photograph and a folded-up newspaper clipping from the Dunkirk evacuation, yellow with age, dotted with plumes of scarlet. It wasn’t like Genevieve missed the war. It’s just what got her through it hadn’t transcended well into normal life.

“Shit,” Genevieve lifted the quill off the paper, a large blot of gold ink pooling over the paper. Well, that was a waste of coupons. She swiped up some blotting paper and scraped up some ink to save it.

A knock at the door caused her to groan. What had Lilly forgotten now? Probably her glasses. Or her bus pass. Or her coupons. Anything to see Genevieve for a few seconds longer.

She called, “Give me a second.” Replacing her pen, Genevieve dabbed the paper in an attempt to save some more of the ink. Then she wiped her hands on a handkerchief before standing and meandering over to the door as sluggish as possible – something she could blame on her cane. With a sigh, she flung the door open, ready for fake smiling and high pitched gossiping for another hour at least.

There stood Jack Collins in a shirt, ironed trousers, braces and brogues. He was clutching a leather suitcase in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other, a coat over his arm. His blond hair was untangled in the same hairstyle, longer than it was on the Moonstone. His eyes, even with the slight bags under them and more crinkles in the corners, were the same cornflower blue.

“Afternoon.” 

His voice, oh God, his voice.  Genevieve’s expression faded from one of shock to one of absolute adoration, nearly melting at his mere presence. He was really right in front of her.

“You’re alive,” She breathed, a short laugh of disbelief escaping her lips. She had to lean against the door for added support, her legs almost giving out beneath her. The feeling indescribable and she’d never felt it before, not even in France. Then she remembered her nosy as fuck neighbour was inevitably going to appear beside them.

“Come in,” She stepped aside. Jack smiled gratefully and entered the flat, taking his shoes off. Unsure of how to react, Genevieve followed him into the kitchen and, leaning her cane against the counter, began fidgeting with the whisk. The noise it made as she spun it caught Jack’s attention so she tossed it over at the grill. Well, she tried to. She missed and it clattered against the enamel floor.

“Sorry for dropping in like this,” Jack apologised with an unintentional pun, looking around the adjoining sitting room. This wasn’t what he’d expected; even by shit flat standards this was very poor.

“No worries, uh,” Genevieve rested against the countertop, staring at the whisk before looking back up at him, “Uh, I just can’t believe you’re here.”

Jack shrugged, a bit awkward in the centre of the flat, still holding his case in front of him. Suddenly struggling to breath, Genevieve moved around the kitchen furniture, support be damned, and threw her arms around Jack’s neck. Throwing his case aside, Jack pulled her tight against his body and cradled her head. The two released their breath in loud shaking sighs, grabbing at each other to hold them closer.

Neither spoke for the words they’d wanted to say face-to-face were clogged up their throats with their sobs. Tears rolled down their faces. Their breathing became gulps for air as they clung to one another desperately. Genevieve raked her fingers through Jack’s hair, gripping it tightly with her other arm wrapped around his shoulders. With a quiet groan, Jack buried his face into her shoulder with his hands grasping her waist and torso.

After a good five minutes of hugging – which is lot for standing pressed up against the same person – the two pulled away, but kept the close proxemics. Their foreheads were pressed against one another. They just stared at one another and took in their face for the first time in five years. Genevieve’s hands shifted around to hold Jack’s face, his jawline resting in her palms as he instinctively leant into her touch.

“You’re so beautiful,” Genevieve’s voice was soft and gentle, as if raising it would break the moment.

“So are you. More than I remembered. More than any picture,” Jack replied, pressing a kiss on Genevieve’s wrist.

“Christ, I missed you so damn much.” She still wasn’t quite managing to catch her breath.

“I missed you too, Ginny.” Jack’s gaze flicked down to her lips then back up to her stare. A silent question for something he’d wanted to do since they had met.

“Please,” Genevieve begged, her voice so quiet that Jack barely heard it. But it was enough. Tilting his head, he closed the gap between them. Jack’s lips tasted faintly of strawberry jam. They were soft, if a little chapped, against Genevieve’s. She pulled him closer, her hands down on his neck, breaking the kiss only to deepen the next. Five years, they had waited five years. Their desire for each other grew from want to insatiable thirst.

Jack’s hands dipped down and, with a noise of surprise and a grunt of pain from Genevieve, lifted her up onto the countertop. He accidentally knocked their heads as he sat her down. Murmuring an apology with his lips brushing against Genevieve’s, Jack smiled at her giggle before he reconnected their lips. The kiss became heated, their tongues clashing with breathy moans. Hands roamed over each other’s bodies – so eager to learn what they liked but never pressured to do anything other than hold their beloved.

BANG! BANG! BANG! A series of knocks jumped the pair apart. Praying whoever it was would go away, Genevieve waited, still glowing in the arms of her lover. Unfortunately her prayers weren’t answered for another set of knocks followed.

“Who is it?” Genevieve shouted with a veiled tone of annoyance.

“Lilly!”

“Shit.”

Jack grinned at her whispered response, those delicious dimples of his peeping out. With a quick gesture to suggest he should sort out his hair, Genevieve kissed his cheek briskly before sliding off the counter. Immediately Jack passed her cane to her. Nodding her silent thanks, Genevieve walked over to open the door – only a fraction though.

“What is it?” She asked, fighting her sister who was trying to push the door open further.

“I wanted to know what the man wanted,” She hissed, leaning closer.

“The man,” Genevieve repeated blankly.

“This blond, Scottish guy. Real handsome, said he was RAF and he was looking for you. I told him where you were then I thought stranger danger, no matter how handsome-”

“Lilly, he’s still in the flat,” Genevieve silenced her sister, “He just wanted to sign some stuff over from France, ok? In fact we must be getting on.”

“I can come in if you like.”

“No, I would not like.” Genevieve quickly corrected herself, “It’s just gotta be done so I’d like to get it over with.”

“Ok, let me know if you need anything,” Lilly grinned obliviously before leaving again. Shutting the door, Genevieve restrained head-butting the door and got back to her guest.

“I’m sorry about her. She’s clingy.”

“That’s ok,” Jack turned Genevieve’s head back to face him. He’d failed to tidy up his hair, a mess by comparison to earlier with his fringe now a single curl in the centre of his forehead. She brushed it out of the way.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Jack,” She muttered, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck, “How long are you here?”

“I, uh, didn’t really have a plan after this,” Jack said sheepishly, “I was a bit occupied with finding you. I was gonna get a room at the B&B down the road.”

“Do you want to stay over tonight?” Genevieve asked, her voice breaking with nerves, “You don’t have to-”

Jack interrupted, “That would be nice. If you’re ok with it.”

“I’m absolutely ok with it,” She couldn’t smile any wider if she tried, “We’re doing this relationship all topsy turvy.”

“I’ll take you out on that date as soon as I’ve caught up on sleep.”

“It’s ok, my love. I can wait a little longer.” She tenderly kissed him again. Accepting the invitation, Jack mumbled a thank you against her lips and pulled her against him with his palms pressed into her back. They stayed close after pulling back, faces paralleled and smiling upon one another.

Jack touched his forehead to hers, clearly exhausted, “I know it’s only half four but I’m dead on my feet. Can I…”

“Sure, bedroom’s over there, bathroom’s next door. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“Thank you, my darling,” Jack pressed one more lingering kiss on her lips, hesitantly pulling away before dragging his suitcase into the bathroom. Tapping her feet giddily, Genevieve set about making cheese on toast. Not the best meal but she didn’t have much in her new kitchen anyway.  Remembering one of her favourite topics of discussion in their letters, she made them both teas – black for her, peppermint for him. He was lucky Lilly liked the same shit as him.

She was just pulling the toast out of the oven grill when Jack appeared behind her in drawstring pyjama bottoms and a cotton button up. His bare feet slapped against the tiles as he crossed the room to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Fancy eating in bed? I made proper tea as well,” She offered.

“You and your proper tea,” Jack mocked as he basked in her touch, “I can stay on the couch tonight.”

“No, you said it yourself, you’re dead on your feet; you can stay in my bed.”

Jack pressed a quick kiss on her cheeks as she loaded a tray, the smell of hot cheese wafting up to their nostrils. After so long eating cold rations and lukewarm coffee, the hot food was a nice change and kick-started the stomach rumbling. With their tea and their toast, Jack and Genevieve sat criss-cross apple sauce on the bed, spraying crumbs as they talked about the last two years.

It felt like it did before, as if their time apart hadn’t impacted their dynamics in any way that wasn’t positive. Genevieve was much more alive, like her letters and during their dance. Jack was just as open with his affections as before, stopping every now and again to remind Genevieve that he cared for her, missed her and required a few kisses as tariff for the conversation to continue.

“You remember how I like my tea,” Jack cheered after taking a sip.

“Yeah, like shite.”

“Hey, I didn’t come here to be insulted,” He grumbled through a mouthful of food. It was hard to stay serious with that image, especially in his pinstripe pyjamas and his fluffy hair.

Genevieve gave a shit-eating grin, the biggest in a long while, “Couldn’t resist.”

“S’a good thing I love you then.” Jack stopped to see Genevieve’s reaction as he realised what he’d said. Something so frequently written in their letters had just been said for the first time. And it was a slip-up.

“I love you too.”

Jack could’ve cried with happiness; in fact he nearly did. He covered his mouth to stop himself from tearing up, letting out the laugh of relief instead of the whimper. It sounded so much better hearing her say those words than they were on paper. And those words on paper had got the two combined through four years of war.

Moved by his response, Genevieve leant over and kissed his temple with her hand holding his cheek. Jack followed her subconsciously as she pulled away. He went red once he’d realised what he’d done. However he had no reason to be embarrassed. Careful not to knock over the tray or put too much pressure on her leg, Genevieve knelt in front of Jack and kissed him again. Dropping his food on his plate, Jack shuffled closer and pulled Genevieve onto his lap. His thumbs rubbed her waist, pushing the shirt material aside so he could feel her bare skin.

Genevieve shivered, threading her fingers into his hair and forming fists to tug on it. Jack let out a groan, his tongue slipping into her mouth. Impulsively, Genevieve shifted her hips which caused both of them to let out low animalistic moans. Jack’s hands slid up her back, her shirt catching on his fingers. Her exposed skin broke out in a path of goose-bumps.

What they were doing suddenly dawned on Jack and he pulled away with his hands held up in surrender, looking down with shame.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, Ginny. I didn’t meant to push, I don’t-”

“It’s ok.” Genevieve cupped his face and held him close, both still trying to slow their breathing, “We have the rest of our years to make up for five.”

Jack was relieved at this reassurance, placing his head in the crook of her neck and fingering the neckline on her loose shirt. Then he paused. He tugged the collar back to reveal lumps of burned skin sealed together to form an ugly scar below her right collarbone.

“What…?”

“I got shot in Germany. I don’t know if you got my-”

“Letter, yeah, I did,” Jack ran his finger over the lumpy skin then moved it to her left thigh, “And you hurt your leg too. I hope you killed that shithead.”

“I did. Headshot.”

“That’s my girl.”

“Your girl,” Genevieve repeated slowly with a questionable tone. Jack looked back up at her.

“Yeah, my girl.”

“Your girl,” Genevieve said with a playful tone, poking his dimples. With those combined with his shining eyes, mussed-up hair and his flushed cheeks, Jack looked radiant in the dingy bedroom. The pair beamed at each other, their foreheads back together. Their noses grazed each other in a slow-mo Eskimo kiss.

“Your hair’s shorter,” He twirled one lock around his finger before combing his fingers through her hair.

“Yeah, took a while for it to grow, ‘specially around the scar.”

At the mention of the wound, Jack felt the lump that had risen over the rest of the scalp.

“Enough about me; what happened to your hand?”

“Got it slammed in a car door.”

“Smart,” Genevieve lifted the hand to her lips and kissed his fingers’ bandage – the same place she kissed when they last saw each other. Careful not to cause her shoulder any pain, she curled up in his side as he settled into the mattress, and traced random shapes in his shirt. She felt a rustle of paper in Jack’s breast pocket.

“Oh, I forgot that was there,” Jack pulled out a sheet of paper and unfolded it. The paper bore the pressed cosmos Genevieve had sent in her first letter to him, the burnt orange jumping out against the off-white card.

“My favourite colour, and my favourite flower,” Jack regarded his possession with a dream-like daze then looked to Genevieve with the same expression, “I can’t ever thank you enough, Ginny. You saw me through that shit show with your letters and your photograph. When you didn’t write, I just kept reading your old ones and imagine you saying the words, testing them out before you wrote them.” Jack cursed himself as he started to tear up again.

“Oh darling,” Genevieve nestled closer to him, choking up a little too, “It’s ok, it’s alright. You did the same for me… The first I thought when I woke up from surgery was if I still had your letters. I barely made it through the last few years without contact with you.”

“I cried when my ma gave me your last letter on the platform,” Jack wiped away a tear with a short laugh.

“Look at me, you’ve turned me into a sentimental idiot,” Genevieve rested her head back on his chest again, “How is Cora by the way?”

“She kept saying “I told you so” after she read the letter. The whole cab ride back home,” Jack joked, remembering fondly how Cora had gushed to his family whilst also managing to berate him for smelling bad.

“I miss her.”

“She misses you too.”

Genevieve snorted loudly at this, “Can I come and see her soon?”

“Only after I’ve had my time with you.”

Perma-tag: @tomgcsglasses, @lowdenglynnstyles, @prettyboytgc and @lowdensnose

Complementary tag: @you-are-the-first-dream, @disneydirectioner, @lavidademarimar (sorry! I forgot to tag you in the last chapter), @sweetsugarhoneyfics and @from-the-clouds 

[auburnfamilynews]

@lexnotalexis

IM CRYIN @collinskitchens #neverfitin #acnh #onecommunity #fail #viral #funny

♬ Party Girl – StaySolidRocky

No one has noticed the onion. Which is crazy, Alexis Dinga says, because TikTok people notice everything. Home intruders. Fashion faux pas. 

“No one’s commented on it, and people in the comments point things out quickly,” says the 21-year-old Auburn senior. “I’m like, there’s literally an onion right there. There are, like, 70,000 comments and not a single person has said ‘what’s in that bag under your legs.’ It’s a yellow onion!”

And the yellow onion started the whole thing! Mom was making hashweh, a Lebanese dish Alexis has no idea how to spell. It was mid afternoon. No one wanted to run to Publix. Things happened.

“I randomly get a text from her saying, ‘hey, do you have an onion,” 20-year-old Auburn junior Collins Kitchens says. “Luckily, we had one yellow onion in the fridge. But I was like ‘is this for a TikTok, or is this for dinner?'”

At this point, who can say? 

Auburn senior Alexis Dinga serves as Director of Academic Projects for Auburn’s SGA.

Collins and Alexis have both been back home in Vestavia since spring break. They grew up as Auburn fans — Collins’ parents both cheered at Auburn in the early ’90s — across the street from each other. They went to school together. They did Birmingham Dance Theater together. And now, thanks to having all the shelter-at-home time in the world — and an onion last Thursday —  they’ve finally TikTok’ed together. It was just a matter of time. 

“I’ve been begging her forever to do one,” Collins says. “So we were just like, let’s do one now since we’re both outside.”

Also outside, as follower-count fate would have it? Annette Desmond, apparently the coolest U.S. postal worker in the country, just around the corner from the cul de sac, just out of sight, with some junk mail with Collins’ neighbors’ name on it. 

Auburn junior Collins Kitchens and her dad. Kitchens’ parents were both Auburn cheerleaders in the early 1990s.

“Where we were was directly between our houses,” Alexis says. “For TikTok, you need a good angle, so instead of just laying the phone on the ground, we put it on the mailbox right in front of us. It had some bricks above it that it could sit on.”

They went with Alexis’ phone, because whatever routine they might be able to nail before mom started cooking would have a way better chance at hearts and shares on Alexis’ account. Collins has a decent TikTok following herself, but for some reason, that video Alexis posted last Halloween of a friend dressing up as one of their Auburn professors got, like, 3 million views, which had been good enough for 15,000 followers up to last week. 

She hit the button for the front-facing camera and lined up across the street next to Collins and the onion.

“It had actually been recording for a while,” she says. “We’d just been sitting there practicing, then we saw our mail woman down the road.”

Do you yell “cut!”? Do you roll with it? They know she’s going to see them standing there. She’s going to see the phone. She’s going to see that the camera is on, that it’s recording. But if they run in front of the truck and grab it off their neighbors’ mailbox, it’ll be weird, it’ll be awkward. So they play it cool. They hope for the best. Alexis looks down at the ground and brushes her hair out of her face. Collins does that little arm wave. 

“I’m a dancer,” Collins says, laughing, “But that little arm wave I did right at the start — that wasn’t my best arm wave. I wouldn’t have done the wave like that if I’d known it was going to go viral.”

“Yeah,” Alexis says, “I mean, we didn’t think she would really even acknowledge it.” 

She acknowledged it. 

Annette joyfully rolled into frame and waved her surgical glove covered hand at the camera and stuffed the Papa Johns coupons and whatever else into the box with a smile that makes you think that she probably kind of knew what was going on with the cute kids across the street.

“It was the funniest thing ever,” Alexis says, “but the cutest part was when she drove back around. She said ‘are y’all doing a TikTok?’ She doesn’t have a TikTok, but she said her niece has it. She was like ‘do y’all need me to video?'”

Nope, not after that. Annette drove off. They grabbed the phone, hit stop, then hit play. It was perfect. “I’m definitely posting that,” Alexis said. Collins laughed and said goodbye to Alexis and the onion, and apparently even her phone for the rest of the afternoon.

“I’m really bad at checking my phone, so I didn’t even pick it up for two hours,” Collins said. “But I got a Facetime call from Alexis and she was like, ‘have you looked at TikTok?’ I was like, ‘no, what’s happened?”‘

What had happened was 15 million views by the time the Dingas had finished dinner. Even for a 10-second clip on an automatically looping video app, that, to quote Alexis and Collins, is “insane.” 

The insanity continues. As of late Tuesday night, thanks in part to stories on Yahoo and Buzzfeed and tons of other outlets, the views are now pushing 30 million. The likes are at more than 8 million. Alexis’ new TikTok bio yeah I owe it all to my mail lady sits beneath a follower count that has skyrocketed to 219,000. Hit refresh in a few minutes and it’ll be 220,000. And chances are pretty good that Annette’s niece is in there somewhere.

“The next day, I actually ran into (Annette) on a run,” Alexis said. “I was, like, ‘do you understand how viral you’ve become?’ She was, like, ‘well, my niece told me I had, like, 150 comments.’ I said ‘oh, honey, you have 60,000 comments.’ I just read her all the nice things everybody said about her and she just lit up.”

An example: We must protect her at all costs…

… which, funnily enough during the great PPE craze of 2020, is actually what’s happening. 

“When I ran into her, I was like, can we please buy you a gift or something?” Alexis says. “She was like ‘oh, no, do not get me anything. The only thing I could possibly need is more gloves.'” 

Once again, Collins to the rescue! 

“Collins had an unopened box of gloves in her house so we put a sticky note on it and wrote ‘thank you for being in our TikTok.’ The look on her face was absolutely priceless.”

View this post on Instagram

we told her we wanted to buy her a gift, and all she wanted was some more gloves <3

A post shared by lex not alexis

(@alexisdinga) on May 1, 2020 at 2:58pm PDT

So was the look on her face in the sequel they shot right after that, which features the same mailbox and the same folks… Alexis, Collins, and, yes, Annette herself, dancing to some hip new TikTok track that starts by sampling — and Annette nails it — the source of the “Something Came in the Mail Today” meme. 

Give the people what they want, Collins says.

“We were like, people have been asking ‘where’s the mail lady!’ They’d love it if you did a full dance routine with us!'”

@lexnotalexis

y’all asked, SHE delivered

#literally @collinskitchens

♬ original sound – dj_yames

Love it they do. Thanks to Alexis’ newfound influencer-level stats — she was fielding sponsorship offers all weekend — the latest from Vestavia’s trending TikTok trio already has more than 6 million views, nearly 2 million likes. And it just keeps coming. 

“My mom didn’t realize how big of a deal it was,” Alexis says. “She was like ‘why is my daughter being tagged by InStyle Magazine?’”

Because you needed an onion, mom…

from The War Eagle Reader https://www.thewareaglereader.com/2020/05/vestavia-mail-carrier-accidentally-turns-auburn-students-into-overnight-tiktok-stars/

[thedemonconstantine]

adventurepunks​:

“Who haven’t I pissed off is a shorter list darlin’“

As they walked with an impromptu game of kick the can dash football conversation begun. “Nah, no point livin’ anywhere but the Tower. Why pay rent with your sugar daddy gives you a skyscraper.” Not that Mister Jupiter would appreciate the analogy but when was Roy ever polite or courteous. “Maybe when we marry Donnie and me will get out own place. Right now the Tower suits just fine. Wanna see a picture of her?” Out of his pocket came a photograph, the kind that was just a square you cut from a strip from those machines in malls of him grinning and a gorgeous tall woman with silky black hair and blue eyes biting his cheek. “Gorgeous ain’t she. I’ll introduce you sometime, you’ll love her. Real smart, like genius smart. Awful taste in boys” he grinned full of pride.

“Big Bow taught me. Grew up in a Native American reservation, learned to hunt and stalk for food. I wasn’t always Queen’s charity project” he put his hands in his pockets refusing the money.

John could get the next can.

“My real dad was a forest ranger, died when I was three saving the tribe. In return to honor his the village raised me and like their young I too had to learn to hunt my food, harvest crops, make pelts, pottery shit like that. Age ain’t an excuse to not graft back there” Roy was keeping back comments about Oliver rolling through and taking pity on him. Messy hair and dirty fingernails must seem atrocious to the wealthy elite. “Saved his life. Queen. I wonder if I thought we were foolin’ around.” John asked and Roy wasn’t one to mince his words or hide discontent about events.

He kept trying car handles as they walked.

“Dinah is alright with me when she’s around.I ain’t got beef with her-” But they kept breaking up, getting back together, breaking up she was hardly a constant or consistent figure before he left for the Titans.

“What about you. What made you leave Yorkshire” Liverpool, London, Yorkshire what was the difference.

“You’re the resident bud, where can we loiter for a while” he finished that offered cigarette stubbing it and throwing it in a sewer grate.

“Who haven’t I pissed off is a shorter list darlin’“

“HEH!” Good one, that. High five!

“Eh, nah fer me, mate. Fancy towers like yehs bound ‘ta ‘ave cameras all o’er th’ bloody place watchin’ yeh. Cor, can’t e’en scratch me bollocks in peace,” John made a face about that. Privacy truly was a luxury these days.

“Bring it,” Said John to the offer of Donna’s picture, and he whistled for he was quite the sucker for brunettes.

“Gots ‘ta luv birds wiff poor taste in lads,” He elbowed Roy and slapped his new friend’s back with a laugh.

“Big Bow, yeh say?” John looked very much interested, shoving the $2 into his own pocket then to keep for later. 

“Sounds brilliant, I’d luv ‘ta visit if yeh poppin’ in ‘ta say ‘lo ‘ta Big Bow some time. Favah Wind ‘n Grandfavah Snake ‘n th’ Great Spirit. Should pay me respects some time,” Staying in Brooklyn was fantastic but now and then John would feel an odd pull to the Green, one that could only be satiated by delving deep into the wilderness where Jóhonaaʼéí still ruled.

“Eh, dun bovah wiff those, mate. New models ‘ave auto-lock ‘ese days. Is th’ vintages ‘n th’ beat-ups tha’ dun lock, or dun bovah lockin’,” John pointed to an old scruffy-looking Subaru three cars down and sure enough the door opened easy. He slipped in and checked the glove compartment to nick a pair of sunglasses, then the passenger sunshade for a clip of emergency money and found $12.

$16.25, looking good so far! Aha, a pack of smokes, a Zippo, some Lotto tickets and folded Walmart coupons. John took them all, plus the half-melted bar of chocolate at the back and tossed that to Roy.

“Long fokkin’ story mate, tha’ un. Do yeh really wants ‘ta know? Heh.” John burst out laughing for Yorkshire was one of the most landlocked parts of England and known for their trains, it was as different as Miami and fucking Alaska.

“HEH! Aye well, Zee’s legs fer un, buh mostly I just overstayed me welcome in me best mate’s place,” That was as good a summary as he could manage.

“Left th’ Pool fer London coz me Da’s a fokkin’ bastard, Left London after tha’ coz me band finks I’m a fokkin’ bastard. Eh, is a soddin’ long story, ‘arper. Mebbe o’er a pint,” Christ he already felt like one now.

“We kin walk th’ bridge,” And nick some parked bicycles which he pointed out with a jerk of his head, the moment they got there, grinning.

[lvcerocastillo-blog]

it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been in a group, but i’m mel! i’m 20 and currently reside in the pst. i rewatched baby driver more times than i can count (like tbh pls talk to me abt ur feels about it if u have any bc i wanna cry about it with someone), so that’s why i decided to bring my girl lucero into the mix. under the readmore, i’ll have some more info for her and y’all can feel free to slide into my dm’s if u wanna plot bc i’m always 100% down for everything and anything.

lucero was born and raised in los angeles in the type of area that you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in once the sun sets. her mother worked herself to the bone as a maid to put a roof over her and her brother’s head, but lucero saw how she suffered at the hands of rich white people who did nothing but belittle her and take advantage of her lack of education to screw her over with her pay. they barely made ends meet most months, and lucero often remembers the way they would shop exclusively at secondhand stores and clip coupons religiously to ensure they would have food on their table.

life wasn’t easy, but lucero knew she wanted more than this, so she took it upon herself to study hard in order to “become a professional” as her mother would often say in order to go to college one day and make enough money to get them out of their situation. however, her brother, oscar, had taken a different approach, meddling with the wrong people at too young of an age that ultimately led him into a life of crime. he was in and out of juvie throughout his teens and caused their mom to stress so much to the point that lucero eventually grew to despise him and to this day, the two don’t talk as often - part of the reason being that they’re now separated by many states and a set of bars since he managed to ultimately land himself in prison for armed robbery.

studying hard paid off and she ultimately got enough financial aid, coupled with scholarships, to go to nyu to study business. it was hard to leave her mother behind, but her mom insisted she’d quickly regret not taking the opportunity to spread her wings and see what more was out there. it was in new york that she realized there was an easier approach to making money.

becoming an escort wasn’t as difficult of a decision as it would’ve been for most. for her, it was like any other job, only she got paid a whole lot more. men were eager to pick up a young, hot 20-something-year-old that’d make them feel like they were finally worth something, so she figured she would do better to profit from it than anything. she got a nice apartment for herself and made enough to regularly send money back to her mom so she wouldn’t have to clean houses anymore.

she managed to get her bachelor’s degree in business, but her focus is now fully on her job as an escort in the hopes that she’d make a connection that would maybe one day help her launch her modeling career - it’s far-fetched to some, but she’s far from settling into an office job that wouldn’t afford her the life she has now, one that she will do anything to keep as it is.

ok i have so many more hcs for her so tap me if u wanna know more but as for connections:

friend connections

she doesn’t have too many friends given that she’s so goal-driven that she often leaves people on read if they’re not of utmost importance to her. she’s The Worst at keeping in touch, but once you’re friends with her, she’s got your back, through and through. maybe some possible connections could be like, her roommate when she went to nyu? a friend she likes to go out for drinks with? ANYTHING, REALLY.

romantic connections

she has no time for, like, legit heartwarming romance, but she’s always up for a fuck buddy or two. she’s also lowkey afraid that falling in love would lead her to second-guess her job, which is her #1 priority, so she avoids sweet boys with hearts in their eyes like the plague. BUT ALSO LIKE MAYBE ONE DAY SOMEONE CAN BREAK THRU TO HER? or a fuck buddy? or a regular client? unrequited crush? i’m down for all of it, tbh.

other connections

look, listen..... if u can think of another connection you’d want with her, i’d 110% be down bc i’m down for it all but i’m blanking on anything else rn, so just yell to me about it.

if y’all wanna plot, im me! i’ll be around all night.