#craigslist girlfriend

[toydrill]

i miss her so bad

[badjokesbyjeff]

I never told my wife I had an ex-fiancee 

One thing I never told my wife is that I had a fiancee before her. It’s a long story, so buckle up.

It was the year after I graduated college. I was dating my girlfriend, Stephanie, for a couple years and things were getting serious. At the time, I had my roommate, Joey, but he was a Craigslist roommate. We didn’t know each other very well. If you asked me how I knew him aside from Craigslist, the answer is I didn’t. He wouldn’t even tell me where he grew up.

Now, no shit, on the day I was going to propose, tragedy struck. I adorned our apartment with candles and even set up a nice glass display with framed pictures of me and Steph on top. Before Steph came in, Joey walked in and tripped. He actually shattered the glass display and got some in his face. Steph came in a few minutes later as I was on the phone with 911. Fortunately, Steph is a nurse, so she was able to patch him up as the three of us went to the hospital together.

Joey would recover, but he had some issues with glass on his face. He needed some cotton gauze inside his eye, which fortunately the doctors were able to save.

Clearly, I put off my proposal for the time being, but Steph and I agreed to get married. Our engagement was hush hush. Steph’s hours were wonky so she took care of Joey when I wasn’t around. And I should’ve seen the red flags, but I ignored them. They’d hang out together with and without me. They’d be in Joey’s room and lock the door.

One day, I came home and all of Joey’s stuff was gone. He moved out. Steph wrote a note. The note said, “We fell in love and we’re leaving together. Don’t try to find us.”

I didn’t listen and I searched, but true to the note, I couldn’t find them. I’ll never know what happened.

Suffice to say,

if it hadn’t been for Cotton-Eye Joe

I’d have been married a long time ago.

Where did you come from, where did you go?

Where did you come from, Cotton-Eye Joe?

[fairytaleendingss]

Room For One More?

Chapter 1

Summary: After a sudden eviction from your home, your friend Mary puts you in contact with her high school friends, James, Sirius and Remus who just so happen to be in need of a roommate. However, living with a group of boys you’ve never met before proves to be more complicated than you expected; especially when they’re all so attractive.

CW: None I don’t think.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

——

To say that life had been crazy lately would be putting it lightly. You had only just moved to the city six months ago, in pursuit of a career you were still yet to achieve, got landed with an office job that you were only barely qualified for, and the eviction notice on the door of your shitty downtown apartment was just the icing on the cake.

For a good few days it seemed like your world was caving in around you as you tried to collect yourself and figure out the next steps. In a city like London, real estate was scarce, not to mention expensive, and you were still working to pay off your student loans.

It was only two days before you were set to be kicked out when your new friend, Mary stepped in and saved the day.

You met Mary at your new office job and she’d been somewhat of a saving grace from the beginning.

She had been a splash of colour in a sea of black suits and beige blouses. She’d been quick to introduce herself, inviting you to join her for lunch on your first day, during which she caught you up on all the ins and outs of office politics. The two of you had become fast friends, something you were extremely grateful for.

And you found yourself even more grateful for her, as her car pulled into the driveway of the apartment building you were about to call your new home.

“How do you know these guys again?” You asked, glancing up at the red brick structure through the passenger window.

“We all went to high school together,” She explained. “I know them really well, trust me they’re great guys.”

You believed her. She’d never given you a reason not to. But still, moving into a household with three strange men that you’ve never met, is bound to be daunting nonetheless.

“And you’re 100% sure they’re okay with me moving in? I mean, they don’t even know me!”

She only giggled. “Don’t be silly! They’re completely on board. They’ve been looking for a new roommate since their other friend Peter moved out a month ago to get a place with his girlfriend, Sybil. They were just about to put up an ad on Craigslist, for heavens sake. Trust me, you’re doing them a favour. If I love you, they’ll love you too.”

You nodded at her but your heart still hummed unsurely in your chest. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

After a treacherous journey up the narrow staircase with boxes in hand, you arrived at the door to the apartment. Mary was behind you, lugging a suitcase full of your clothes. You wished, for a moment that her friends at least lived in a building that had an elevator. You erased that thought from your mind a moment later, when you remembered that these people were doing you a massive favour. Besides, you were hardly in a position to complain.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. When it swung open you had to make a conscious effort to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Standing in front of you was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. He was fair and lean with long strands of dark hair fanning his face. He was chiseled in a way that made him look delicate, almost doll-like but he also had tattoos lining his arms and chest, which you could see poking out from beneath his white t-shirt. He was leaning against the doorframe, effortlessly cool, looking down at you with a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“Hey there gorgeous. You must be the new roommate. I’m Sirius.”

You peered up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond to this man who had the face of a Greek God. And did he just call you gorgeous? You weren’t sure what you were expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Um, hi,” you stumbled awkwardly. Your hands felt clammy even just looking at this guy, how the hell are you supposed to live with him? “I’m y/n.”

His grin only widened “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ugh, stop flirting with her Sirius! And move out of the way, this stuff we’re carrying is heavy you know.”

You’d almost forgotten Mary was there until she’s stepping forward, shoving past Sirius who was blocking the doorway, and entering the apartment.

“Sorry hun, just trying to make conversation,” Sirius teased, stepping aside gently to let you in.

The place was bigger than you expected. Not huge but definitely comfortable, and better decorated. The picture you’d created in your imagination could only be described as a “bro cave” with bean bags on the floor and minimal furnishings. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the place is rather nice and homey, with comfortable leather furniture and a few framed artworks on the walls.

“Well, welcome home,” Sirius said, following you into the living room. “I can’t take any credit for the interior design, unfortunately. That was all Remus. Speaking of, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you.”

Sirius padded off down the hall, making his way to one of the rooms and banging heavily on the door.

“Remus! The new roommate is here! Don’t be rude and come and meet her!”

The boy that emerged was equally as attractive as Sirius. He was taller than the first boy, with a mop of sandy hair and dark, piercing eyes. He wasn’t as effortlessly cool as Sirius, he was more lanky and hunched in posture, but he had a sort of nerdy charm about him that was very endearing. He was dressed in a thick woollen jumper and his hair was mattered. He blinked up at Sirius, like he hadn’t quite caught up with the situation yet.

“What’s going on?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “Our new roommate is here! Come and say hello!”

He peered out of the doorway. Looking in either direction before his eyes landed on you. Not quite sure what to do with yourself, you sent him an awkward wave.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” he replied in return, with a tight lipped smile. Then he turned back to Sirius.

“Could you go away now please? I was having a nap.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

There door was abruptly slammed in his face.

You stood in the living room, holding a box to your chest awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable about the interaction. Sirius could apparently tell, and was quick to jump to your aid.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said dismissively. “He’s just in a mood. He’s a med student and all the studying is driving him wild at the moment. He’ll come good after he gets a bit of sleep. Now, how about I show you to your room?”

He directed you down the hallway to a door at the end. Inside, you could already see Mary hanging up your clothes in the wardrobe.

“So this is you,” Sirius muttered, gesturing to the space like a magician revealing his assistant had not, in fact, been sawed in half. Then he sent you another flirtatious smile, something you were quickly learning was a signature of his.

“I’ll leave you girls to it but just shout if there’s anything you need. Although, if you want someone to help carry boxes, I’d recommend waiting until James gets home later on. He’s the athletic one of the three of us. And let me tell you those stairs are a killer.”

You chuckled, a genuine smile overtaking your face for the first time in this whole experience.

“Thanks Sirius. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he drawled, giving you a wink.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay Sirius. Thank you but you can go now. We have a lot of unpacking to do here.”

Once Sirius had departed, you and Mary got to work on unpacking your things. Luckily for you, Peter had left behind a bed frame and a few pieces of furniture in his move, a saving grace considering most of your stuff had come with the previous apartment. You still had a mattress strapped to the roof of Mary’s car that needed bringing in, but like Sirius had said, Mary insisted that you wait for the mysterious James to return from work to help you carry any of the heavier items inside (With the way the others talked about him, you could only imagine he must be a superhero). Instead you busied yourself with unpacking your random assortment of trinkets collected over the years.

“So how are you feeling about the place?” Mary pried, unpacking a few shoe boxes into the bottom of the closet.

“It seems alright,” you admitted. “To be honest, I was a little nervous going into this but Sirius seems nice. I think he and I will get along.”

Mary smiled. “Oh good! I knew you’d like it. And just wait until you get to know the other boys better too. You’ll fit right in! I’m sure of it.”

You have her an anxious smile. “I really hope you’re right.”

—

It was a few hours later, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

“Honey! I’m home!” A playful voice boomed down the doorway.

You slowly emerged from your room to greet your final roommate. The guy was visibly buff and wearing a mud-covered jersey. He had matted tuft of thick dark curls and round glasses that balanced on the edge of his nose.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hi. I’m y/n. I’m your new roommate.”

He looked up curiously before his expression morphed into a dazzlingly charming smile. He began to approach you and you held out a hand for him to shake. He bypassed the gesture all together, instead choosing to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug.

You were caught a little off-guard at first but tentatively hugged him back, heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the muscles of his biceps flex against you.

Pull yourself together!! You thought.

As he pulled away, he looked down at you, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. He smiled widely, reminding you somewhat of a playful puppy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed. “Mary’s told me so much about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your own face as you looked up at him. You really liked James, you decided.

“How have you been settling in so far?” He continued.

“Pretty well, I suppose. I’ve done most of my unpacking now.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Well if you need help with anything, let me know. I’d be happy to assist.”

You grimaced. “Actually there is one thing you might be able to help me with?”

He raised a brow expectantly.

“How do you feel about mattress transportation?”

—

Manoeuvring a queen sized mattress up three floors of narrow stairs proved to be a challenging task. But somehow, between the two of you, you managed it.

By the time James actually wrestled the mattress on your bed-frame, you were just about ready to collapse on top of it.

Mary, unfortunately, had found the whole display hilarious, especially the moment where you’d lost your grip and send the mattress sliding down the stairs back to the first floor. So instead of offering to help, she’d taken the opportunity to film the entire ordeal on her phone. You expected it would be gracing social media by the end of the evening.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done!” James exclaimed as he finally dropped the material onto the bed-frame.

You chuckled. “Yeah! I mean it only took an hour and a half.”

James smiled and checked the watch on his wrist.

“It’s getting late and I really should shower. But how about we order pizza afterwards. We could have dinner and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Mary, darling, you’re invited too of course.”

The girl looked between the two of you, smiling playfully. Then she shot you a look.

“Thanks for the offer Jamie but I actually have some stuff I need to get done back at home. You guys enjoy though.”

She sent you a wink as she went and your eyes widened.

“I’m going to go wash off, but there’s a take out menu on the fridge,” James said. “Pick out whatever you want. My shout.”

—

A short while later you found yourself sat on the loveseat, a plate of pizza in your lap while Sirius and James sat side by side on the couch, bickering about the most recent episode of the Bachelor. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched on.

They argued in a way that was firm but affectionate. You could tell that they were particularly close and had clearly known each other a long time.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Sirius exclaimed, waving his piece of pizza in the air for emphasis. “Jennifer was such a bitch! She totally deserved to be sent home.”

James gasped in mock offence. “No way! He should’ve kept her. They had a special connection.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius blurted. “All she did was talk about herself. She barely even gave him the time of day.”

“I disagree! She was playing hard to get. Girls only do that when they like someone!” James stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t contain your snort at the comment.

Sirius turned to you then, a smirk adorning his gorgeous face. “Well, lucky for us, we now have a girl here to settle agreements such as these. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname. “If I’m being honest, I have to agree with Sirius. Jennifer was kind of a bitch.”

Sirius cheered and James held a hand to his chest dramatically.

“Well you’re both wrong,” James joked. “We must have been watching two different shows.”

Sirius scoffed. “Nah, mate. You just have a terrible radar when it comes to girls. I mean, you’ve been chasing the same girl since you were fifteen and she’s still shown you no interest.”

Your eyebrows raised at that one. “Wait what? I feel like I’ve missed a chapter here.“

“She’s just a friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a friend you’ve been in love with since third form.”

James sighed.

“There’s this girl, Lily, in our friend group,” he began to explain, looking rather bashful. “And I’ve kind of been into her for a while but she always turns me down.”

You grimaced, clicking your tongue in sympathy. “That sucks. But hey, If she’s managed to keep your interest for all these years then she must really be special. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

James smiled gently. “I’m sure you will soon. She and Mary are quite close.”

Sirius face lit up suddenly at that. “Actually guys, that reminds me. The band is playing a gig on Saturday and everyone’s coming. You should join us y/n!”

“Hold on, since when are you in a band?” You queried. “I thought you were a bartender.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m a bit of both! Bartender by night and lead singer of ‘Snakes and Lions’ by… well also by night I guess.”

“Basically, he plays in a band on the weekends,” James clarified.

“Yeah, and soon, we’ll be world famous!”

“Well I’d love to come and see you play,” you uttered.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“What’s a date?”

You all looked up to see that Remus had finally emerged from his room. He looked tired and a little disheveled. Although you supposed that was the only way you’d had a chance to see him so far.

“Rem, mate! Come join us! We got Italian sausage just for you!”

Sirius gestured to one of the pizza boxes on the table and Remus nodded, grabbing a plate to fill.

“We were just telling y/n about Sirius’ gig this weekend.”

Remus looked up at you for a moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then he straightened himself up and came to stand before you awkwardly.

“You’re um… you’re in my seat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

You shot up from the spot, feeling rather mortified by the interaction.

“It’s okay, you can come sit here!” James stated, sliding further towards the armrest of the sofa and patting the spot in between himself and Sirius.

You sat down tentatively, but Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder which helped a bit in easing the nerves.

You found yourself glancing over at Remus. He seemed quiet as he munched on his pizza. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of frustration towards him. He’d been nothing but rude to you since you arrived and you had no clue why.

“So tell us, y/n. What brought you to London?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Sirius’ question.

“Well, I just finished my degree not too long ago and I decided I needed a change, I suppose. London has a lot of good opportunities.”

“What did you study?” James asked, leaning his head in his hand as he looked down at you.

“Literature actually. I want to be a writer.”

Sirius brows shot up. “Really? That’s great. You should talk about that with Remus. He loves books.”

“Hmm?” The boy looked up then, as if having been lost in his own world, before brought back by the sound of his name.

“Y/n studied literature at university.”

He glanced over at you, only looking mildly interested. “Oh, that’s good.”

Then he turned his wrist glancing down at the watch that he wore. “It’s getting late. If you all don’t mind, I think I will finish dinner in my room. I have a lot of work to do.”

You frowned at that. Had you done something to upset him? Why was he so eager to get away from you?

“Alright mate. We’ll see you in the morning,” James muttered, oblivious to the issue.

Remus nodded at him before getting up slowly and sauntering back into his room.

James continued munching on his pizza happily but Sirius clearly noticed the way you tensed at the boy’s exit. He leaned in closely, speaking in a low tone so only you could hear.

“Sorry about him. He really isn’t like this usually. I’ll have a talk with him.”

You sighed. “No no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

You really didn’t want to be a point of contention between these boys.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble-“

“No it’s fine,” you shook your head. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired as well. I might turn in for the evening.”

James looked over at you with gentle eyes. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Once you got to your room, you lay back heavily against the door, sighing. You considered the events of the day. There had been few hiccups but you decided then and there that you’d do whatever you could to move past them.

You got along well with James and Sirius seemed friendly. It was just Remus who was yet to warm up to you.

As you got ready for bed, your mind ran over the interactions that you’d had so far and wondered what might be the root of his frustrations.

Maybe things will be different tomorrow, you thought, as you settled in for the night.

[foldingfittedsheets]

I remember the first time I got a missed connection. For those unfamiliar, Craigslist has a section that’s basically, “We met and I had a great time but I didn’t get your number.” I was unaware this existed until my coworker came in buzzing with excitement that I had a missed connection.

The post was along the lines of, “It was a hectic lunch rush and you were a friendly redhead who made us feel so welcomed.” It was definitely me. While the redness of my hair has been debated no one else on staff had any red at all.

The idea behind these missed connections is to reach out if you felt a spark too. I didn’t even remember the guy, but it was a nice flattering moment. My coworker evidently watched the page like a TV show, living vicariously and hoping to have a secret admirer of her own one day.

Several years passed and I was working at the sex shop. I was freshly dumped by my first girlfriend and feeling very lonely about it. I was working my shift alone in a dull haze when a guy came in. He greeted me and asked about toys.

I was showing him some when I noticed a sheikah eye of truth tattoo on the back of his hand. “Oh, I love Zelda!”

He looked surprised and we started chatting about it. He told me he wished he could play Twilight Princess but the Wii wasn’t accessible to him. That’s how long it took me to realize he only had one arm, and I just said that it was a bummer he couldn’t play that one and moved on.

We had a great conversation and I felt my spirits lifting as we chatted. I’d been so depressed and it was lovely to meet someone it was easy to talk to. He was right around my age and had the same taste in games.

He found a toy he liked eventually and left. A sudden conviction took hold of me. He was absolutely going to post a missed connection. That fun conversation is what straight people would consider flirting. I told my roommates when I got home and they rolled their eyes. But I was absolutely certain.

I refreshed the page every few hours, and sure enough, there it was. Honestly it does seem like a nicer way to drop a hint to a service worker than asking them out on the spot. He said to name his tattoo if it was me and I wanted to hit him up.

I responded to say that I was gay but that I’d love to hang out and play games, that I’d really enjoyed the conversation and it was the first bright spot I’d had in a while.

He never wrote back.

[alicewrotethis]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞﹒

ㅤ۫ㅤ ˚ ۪˖𓏲﹒synopsis!! atsumu needed a new roommate, only he didn't know what he was getting himself into. ㅤ ˖ㅤㅤ۫ㅤ ˚౨ cw!! timeskip! a. miya x artist! oblivious! reader, sfw ﹒ ◠ note!!  and they were roommates... atsumu is so hard to write for omg, pt2 soon !! not proofread ౨ wc!! 3k  ˚ ۪˖𓏲 mood!! series playlist

[part two]

"Tsumu, you need to find a new roommate. My girlfriend and I are getting serious," Atsumu's now ex-roommate explained to him. Atsumu could understand, though not really. He had never gotten too far in the relationship stages. His focus was usually on volleyball, and he couldn’t imagine himself in a serious relationship, so he never really tried.

So here he sat in his living room, on the couch, interviewing the fifth person that day for the new roommate position he’d put out on Craigslist. He was starting to regret the decision, especially since half of the people he met were... well, to put it nicely, extremely shady in his eyes.

Maybe Craigslist wasn’t the best place to post a roommate ad.

His rules were simple: don’t make a mess, be respectful of each other’s belongings, label your food items, and do not be a girl. Most of the rules seemed fair given that it was a two-bedroom, two-bath apartment.

But then there you were, sitting across from him, looking nervous as he stared you down.

"Ya' read the rules, right?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

It’s not that Atsumu hated women or anything—he loved them, for the most part. He just wasn’t sure he could share the same space with someone of the opposite gender. It was something he’d never done before, and given the way his exes acted, he assumed every girl would be uptight and all up in his business all the time.

"I, uh, yes?" You tried to put on a fake smile, but the truth was, you hadn’t read the rules. You’d just applied to whatever roommate ad you first saw. You’d been kicked out by your last roommate, who refused to tell you the reasons, but you had a pretty good guess why.

You had a bad habit of leaving things out randomly, calling it your organized clutter. But everyone else called it a pigsty.

"Then what was the first rule?" He questioned.

You said the first thing that came to your mind, "Don’t talk about fight club?" Your cheeks were a deep red color.

Atsumu felt a smirk fall onto his face "Ya sure yer applyin' for a roommate and not an underground fightin' ring?" He said, amused.

"It was the first thing that came to my mind!" You shouted, embarrassed about your accidental answer. "No, I didn't read your freak rules," You muttered, crossing your arms and staring at the wooden floor.

Atsumu chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Well, if yer gonna live here, you might wanna start readin' them," he teased, leaning back into the couch.

You directed your attention to him once again, "Wait, I can live here?" You asked, a hopeful expression on your face.

Atsumu’s grin softened as he noticed the hope in your eyes. He leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. "Yeah, ya can," he said, his voice a little more serious now. "But, ya gotta understand, this place ain't some hotel. It's full of my rules,"

Atsumu knew he needed someone to fill the position of his roommate, and truthfully he was tired of interviewing people and having to awkwardly reject them, and you seemed nice enough, plus, he could just kick you out if you weren't nice to live with.

"I'm sure I can make whatever your rules are work!" You beamed, your excitement palpable.

You were overjoyed, and grateful to have found an apartment so quickly, especially with the truck you rented due to be back in six hours.

"First off," he started, but you cut him off by raising your hand. "What?"

"Can we, uh, bring my stuff up? The truck, uh... it needs to be back in six hours..." you said, your voice wavering, as if you were almost afraid he might tell you to unload it yourself.

Atsumu’s expression softened just a little as he processed your request. The nerves were so evident in your voice, and he couldn’t help but wonder if you were just a bit too anxious for such a simple question. But the truth was, he’d been nervous more times than he could count in his life. It was the only thing that kept him from being irritated by your timid tone.

"Sure," he said, his voice dropping to something a bit gentler. "I can help ya bring it up, no problem."

You blinked, taken aback for a moment. You expected some resistance— after all, most people would be irritated by the thought of helping move someone’s stuff after a first meeting. Maybe your original thoughts on Atsumu were wrong, when you first saw him you had assumed he would be rude but so far he seemed to be fairly nice.

"Lead the way," He spoke, standing up, once again reminding you just how tall he really is.

You both stood in front of the truck, it was a fairly small size, really only used for moving a bedroom.

"The boxes might be heavy, I dont pack well," You warned, sliding the door up and revealing your stacks of boxes as well as your bed set, but something caught Atsumu's eye, you had something flat and long covered on bubble wrap.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing his finger.

"Oh! My canvases, I, uh, do art, or well, make it, I guess," You explained, stumbling over your words nervously. "Well, not I guess, I know it, it's my job,"

You hoped he didn't ask any further questions since you weren't one to really talk about your art, most of your pieces never met your standards so therefore never met the light of day despite what everyone else says about them. You always tended to be your own biggest critique.

"Maybe you could paint me like one of your French girls," He teased, a wide grin on his face.

Your face went a deep shade, did he actually want you to paint him like a French girl? It wasn't uncommon for someone to ask you to paint them something but to paint someone was a whole different deal, though, you did find him candidly pretty enough for it.

"Maybe," You said while picking up a box from the truck, the weight almost enough to make you drop it as you struggled to walk.

Atsumu just watched you with amusement, his brow raising, you didn't actually think he was serious. Right? You had determination he'd give you that.

"Ya need help?" He asked wryly.

"Nope," You mustered out before taking another step and almost falling backward, "Okay, yeah," You admitted.

Atsumu quickly replaced your hands on the box, lifting it like it weighed absolutely nothing.

"Just say yes next time, yeah?" He said, making his way towards the entrance, making you mumbling excuses for not lifting it.

After Atsumu sat the last box down in your room he wiped the sweat off his forehead. You told him you'd be back in forty minutes. It took you ten minutes to get to the truck place, twenty minutes to wait for your friend to pick you up, and ten minutes back. It gave Atsumu a chance to spiffy the place up one last time. He didn't want you to think he lived messily, though it would be a different story when he was busy.

Before leaving your room, he caught a glimpse of the familiar bubble-wrapped canvases, curiosity piquing his interest. One look wouldn't hurt, right? And it's like you'd never know. Giving in to his curiosity he carefully unwrapped one from the back, it felt like Christmas all over again.

Lifting the painting up to get a good view his jaw dropped, it was a beautiful scenic view of a lake, the water and grass had been finished but the sky and what he presumed should've been mountains weren't. He wanted to see a finished one, so he declared that one didn't count and therefore he should be entitled to unwrapping another one.

Lifting the second one up he noticed the same thing, it was a moonlight beach piece- or so he thought; only the top part of the canvas hadn't been filled in. Once he rewrapped them he inspected all the canvases from outside the wrap, and despite how blurry it was, he could tell none of them were finished and a confused look strew onto his face, whats with you and not finishing things?

Hearing the doorbell ring he quickly placed everything back where he found it and rushed to the door, opening it slightly after peeking through the peephole and seeing your form.

"Password?" He asked with a grin.

You didn't quite pick up on his joking tone, "Wait what? You didn't tell me the password," You explained anxiously.

He laughed awkwardly when he realized the joke didn't land, you were gonna have to get used to his silly jokes if you were gonna become possible friends with him.

"Just come inside," He opened the door fully, watching as you slipped under the arm that was holding the door open.

"That reminds me," He paused, digging in his shorts pocket, pulling out a silver key, and handing it out to you, "Your key,"

You smiled and took it from his hand, "Why is your fingertip black?" You asked, taking his wrist and examining his hand.

Atsumu's eyes widened as he quickly tried to come up with an excuse, he couldn't just tell you he went snooping through your stuff. Atsumu was a liar, everybody who was even remotely close to him knew this, but to his luck, you had only just met him.

"It's not," He said with the most convincing smile he could put on.

He never said he was a good liar.

You looked up at him, his wrist still in your grasp as your eyes flickered between him and his finger, and your skeptical expression made it clear you didn't believe him.

"It's food dye," He spoke again, praying you'd release your weak grasp.

Narrowing your eyes you seemed content with his more believable answer, "Why didn't you just say that from the start?" You asked, letting go of his arm.

"Oh, ya know, the usual, anyway..." He trailed off, walking towards his bedroom to escape the awkward situation, "I'll be in my room, don't disturb me unless there's a fire,"

You watched his back as he fled and shut the door swiftly, you knew this new living arrangement would be anything other than a dull one.

But one thing didn't add up to you, what food would he willingly want to dye black? Oh well, you had more important matters to attend to, like unpacking your room, your least favorite part of moving.

With a sigh you looked around your room, it was neat, and you wondered how long it'd be till it wasn't. Mentally swatting those thoughts away you shook your head, you had to be clean this time in fear of getting kicked out, again, it's weird that it happened once it'd be even more weird if it happened twice.

The only thing left was to find a spot to put your unfinished paintings, was hanging up unfinished paintings weird to do? You weren't quite sure, but since you had nowhere else to store them you decided it was the only logical thing to do. Unwrapping the first one you noticed little smudges in the black. Once you hung it up you inspected your fingers, only that's when it hit you, Atsumu's fingers, he lied to your face!

Knocking on his bedroom door, you were furious— not because he snooped through your things, but because he lied to your face about doing so.

"Atsumu's not here, try again later," You heard him say from behind the door, feigning innocence.

You rolled your eyes, exasperated. "Why'd you lie to me?"

"As a loyal friend of Atsumu, I can confirm he's a man of integrity and would do no such thing," He shot back, in a mockingly serious tone.

Did he genuinely think you'd fall for this act? You were a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.

"I'm not stupid, Atsumu," you said, crossing your arms as the door creaked open.

His face peeked out with a sheepish grin, clearly amused. "Never said ya were, just testin' yer observation skills,"

You glared up at him, refusing to be derailed. "So? Why lie?"

Atsumu leaned casually against the doorframe, shrugging with an air of nonchalance, "Force of habit? Thought it'd be funny?" His grin widened.

Atsumu didn't really have an explanation of why he lied to you, it just came naturally to him, he'd lie even when caught in the act. He'd be more surprised if he told the truth.

You could only muster out a scoff as you turned for your room, you were more annoyed than angry at this point, annoyed that he kept joking about everything– was there a serious bone in this guys body?

Atsumu felt the need to apologize, he knew he shouldn't lie, or well, he should've told a better lie, but he still hurt your feelings and it hadn't even been a whole day since you moved in.

With an exaggerated sigh he knocked on your door. After a few moments you opened it, a scowl evident on your face at the sight of him.

" 'msorry i stretched the truth about a few things," He said, watching as you crossed your arms.

"Stretched the truth?" You repeated annoyed at how he couldn't admit the cold hard truth even in his apologies.

"C'mon don't be like that, i'm sorry, i got carried away 'nd wanted to see yer painting's" He leaned on the door way.

you let a soft smile onto your face at his words, you were glad he apologized finally, and you were happy someone wanted to see your work, though, had he just asked you probably would've shown him. Eventually. Most likely.

"Yeah, well... next time, just don’t lie. It’s not that hard." You say, not wanting to let him off the hook that easily.

Atsumu grins, "No promises," He said amusingly.

You rolled your eyes and smiled at him, "So, what do you think of them?"

Atsumu knew he was going to like invoking reactions out of you, the way you expressed yourself so clearly was adorable to him, and how you didn't quite catch on to his sarcastic tone, taking everything so seriously. It was far too cute.

"Why aren't any of 'em finished?" He asked inquisitively, watching as you leaned on the doorframe opposite to him.

You pondered for a moment, coming up with an answer that actually made sense to anyone but you. You knew why they weren't finished, it was a problem you've always had, you just never had the right motivation to finish the pieces, they were beautiful yes, and they could've been so much more but you never had the right... muse?

Motivation?

Reason?

Of course, you had reason to finish the pieces people paid for, but your personal pieces were and will always remain unfinished.

"I've never had any reason to finish them, I guess," You said, your tone completely changing from the one you've been using toward him, you sounded more collected than you did before.

Atsumu felt your words somewhat, though he couldn't fully understand where you were coming from as he never indulged in hobbies other than volleyball, and with volleyball you can't just not finish the game.

"Well, if ya ever finish one, we're hangin' it up in the living room," He grinned at your flustered face.

"You were saying something about rules earlier?" You changed the subject.

"Ah," He paused, "Respect people's things 'nd label yer food,"

You looked at him with a bemused expression, "Haven't you already broken one of your rules?"

He stood with a wide smirk, "Never said I'd follow the rules, gotta get yer ears checked," He said teasingly.

"My ears are just fine, I swab them every night for your information," You shot back, defensively crossing your arms.

Atsumu chuckled softly at your form, the way you always took him so seriously, it stitched something into him, nothing bad, but he just wasn't sure what the feeling was to what it could lead to, sure your personalities clashed wildly, but that's what made it so exciting to him. You were something new.

"Thanks f'the image,"

"Let me see your ears," You said, arms still crossed.

Atsumu raised his brow in amusement, "Why would I-"

Atsumu got cut off by you grabbing his shirt and tugging him down,.

Atsumu blinked, his lips parting slightly in stunned silence. He wasn’t used to being manhandled like this— especially by someone as small, compared to him, and stubborn as you.

“Y’know,” He finally murmured, his voice low and teasing as a grin tugged at his lips, “If ya wanted t’hold my face, ya just had t’ask.” He said playfully, trying to mask the flush your hold on his face brought.

You ignored his words, squinting at his ear as if it held the answers to the universe.

“It looks clean,” you muttered, releasing his chin with a sharp pat.

Atsumu straightened, rubbing his jaw with exaggerated offense. “Glad I passed yer inspection, doc. Feel free t’give me a heads-up next time, yeah?”

Despite the confident facade he put on, your touch and close proximity sent a flutter through him.

"Well, I did ask beforehand," You placed your hand on his chest to move him backward and out of the doorframe, god, why were you so touchy? It did absolutely nothing to calm the flutter of feelings spinning in his chest.

As you turned on your heel and shut the door, Atsumu stood there, watching you, his hand absently brushing over his chin where your fingers had been moments before.

What exactly had he gotten himself into?

navigation !

© 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 ─ please don't copy, translate, or post any of my work without my permission !

[part two]

[fluentmoviequoter]

A Room Away

Requested Here!

Edit: Part 2 Here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic abuse (reader and Tim), reader has chronic migraines from past head trauma, nightmares, reader has a panic attack, angst, fluff, Nyla and Angela. (roommates to lovers)

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: Parts of this are so self-indulgent. The migraine depictions are based on my migraines, but I think they're some of the most common symptoms. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! (I'm still trying to get Tim's character down, so apologies if he's OOC.)🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim sits in the back of the room for roll call, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as unimpressed sighs escape him. Angela is getting tired of his seemingly perpetual bad mood. Clearly, he’s lonely, but he will never admit it. And that loneliness makes him mopey and broody (Angela’s official motto for Tim Bradford) until he has enough and snaps at someone.

Sitting at her desk, Angela watches Tim yell at a boot. He’s always harsh with them, trying to prepare them for anything, but now he’s using them as punching bags for his forbidden feelings. 

“What’s his problem? He’s grumpier than usual,” Nyla says as she joins Angela.

“He’s lonely,” Angela answers. “Won’t admit it or do anything about it.”

“That man needs a girlfriend,” Nyla muses.

Angela sits up straighter and smiles. “You’re a genius, Harper.”

“I know.”

Angela opens a website on her computer, and Nyla pulls up a seat to watch her intervention into Tim’s personal life.

“You’re going to rent out his spare room without telling him? This’ll be fun to watch,” Nyla says, laughing.

“He has way too much room for just one guy. Getting him a roommate and a girlfriend will surely help with.. that,” she finishes, gesturing toward Tim.

“A roommate and a girlfriend, or a roommate who becomes a girlfriend?”

“Either should work.”

“That’s your number.”

Angela nods, putting her contact information on the listing. “Tim would shut it down after the first call, so I’ll interview them, run background checks, whatever, and find the perfect one.”

“Well, Mrs. Right is always found on Craigslist,” Nyla jokes.

“This isn’t Craigslist.”

“Semantics.”

Angela posts the listing, and she and Nyla hope getting Tim a roommate will help nudge him out of his bad mood. He needs someone to talk to and bond with, but he’ll never come to that conclusion on his own. Which is why Angela considers herself to be such a good friend.

✯✯✯✯✯

Los Angeles is a big city, which is part of why you chose it without another thought. Full of opportunities and a chance of fading into the background, it’s the complete opposite of your home, which overflows with memories. The patched drywall you were pushed into, the stained tile where you thought everything was going to end, and the china cabinet with the shattered glass are left behind and traded in for a minimum wage job, a used car, and a lot of panic that you won’t be able to find somewhere to live.

You’ll need a roommate until you can save enough money for your own place. However, finding a decent place with a decent roommate is nearly impossible in your price range. Browsing online listings, you see one that could be promising. The information at the bottom says there is an interview process, which catches your attention. Sending a text to Angela Lopez, you cross your fingers for good luck before walking into work.

By the end of your shift, Angela has replied and asked you to meet somewhere nearby. You want to go home, a dull headache building at the base of your skull impairing your mood. But you also really want a better place to call home than the pay-by-the-month motel you’re currently living in.

Angela gives you a firm handshake as she introduces herself as an LAPD detective. She asks questions about your life, job, hobbies, and finally, why you moved to Los Angeles.

“I just needed a change of pace; was ready to leave my old life behind, find something bigger and better,” you answer, a simplified version of the truth.

Trying not to show it, Angela immediately takes a liking to you. Each of your answers solidifies her gut instinct that you’re a good fit for Tim. You ask why her name was on this listing if it’s not her house, and she follows your lead and gives you the truth, but not all of it.

“Tim, the owner of the house, is a coworker and friend, and I’m just trying to help him out while he’s busy with work,” she explains.

As you leave the meeting, Angela gives you her personal number, as well as someone named Nyla Harper’s number, “just in case you need anything.”

She texts you a time and address, telling you to meet her at your new place the following afternoon. You thank her repeatedly before driving to the trashy motel one last time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Parking outside the house, you fall in love with the neighborhood and the cute architecture of the home. Angela meets you in the driveway, seeming more nervous than excited. You realize she may not have been totally honest with you as you follow her to the door.

An incredibly handsome man opens the door, sighing when he sees Angela. He lets both of you in, seeming to trust Angela completely.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knows he will regret opening the door, but the woman with Angela is beautiful, and deep down, a small part of him wants to know who she is and why she’s on his doorstep.

“This is your new roommate,” Angela announces, giving Tim your name.

“You didn’t,” Tim responds. “Please tell me you didn’t rent out my spare room without asking me, Lopez.”

“I won’t tell you that, then.”

Standing quietly to the side, you anxiously watch their argument.

“Um, sorry,” you begin, interrupting them. “But I can go, and find a new place, since this is clearly not what you signed up for.”

You move toward the door before stopping when Angela demands, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She gives Tim a stern look before cocking her head to the side. He sighs like he has accepted his fate, a tragedy based on his reaction. Gesturing for you to follow him, he gives you a quick tour before showing you to your new room and bathroom.

“I’m not home a ton, but when I am, I’m usually watching a game or just hanging out, so,” he tells you before trailing off.

You nod before promising, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Tim wants to believe you, but he also thinks you’re pretty and kind enough that he wouldn’t mind seeing you occasionally.

✯✯✯✯✯

You cross paths with Tim a few times in the first two days of living with him. He’s struck by your beauty each time but recognizes that you don’t open up willingly, so he never presses you to talk. Content to be ships passing in the night, Tim gives you a nod before continuing out the door.

It’s your third night in the house that Tim learns your reserved qualities may not be as simple as a personality trait. Waking when he hears a strange noise, Tim listens in the darkness before deciding it’s your footsteps he hears. Based on the sound, you're pacing, so Tim gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. He walks right past you, and you give him an apologetic smile before slowing down. Tim makes you a mug of calming tea, sliding it across the kitchen island before sitting beside you as you drink it. Suspecting you had a nightmare or some similarly disturbing experience, Tim reminds you where you are and that everything is okay in his own way.

Over the next week, you wake him up a few more times, thrashing in your bed or exiting your room once you wake. He nudges each time, offering to let you talk about it, but you never do. You always apologize for waking him, thank him for keeping you company and making you tea before you disappear back into yourself and into your room.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve lost count of the days and nights spent in Tim’s house, your sense of time thrown off by the continued plague of nightmares and the monotony of your days. As you wake up after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, you immediately turn your face back into the pillow. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, and everything seems brighter and louder. The migraines have been nearly as consistent as the nightmares since before you left for Los Angeles. 

Tim knocks on your door, and you groan as the sound echoes in your brain. He cracks the door, concerned that you aren’t up yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, seeing your current state.

“Migraine,” you answer. “I called in sick.”

He closes the door to block the light from outside and lowers his voice to ask, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Well, call me if you do, or if anything changes, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Tim. Have a good day.”

Tim nods, even though you can’t see him, before backing out of your room and exiting the house as quietly as possible. He keeps his ringer on, looking at his phone every few minutes as his concern for you remains at the forefront of his mind.

Angela and Nyla notice his usual grumpy disposition seems to have been replaced with concern for something, or someone. After he checks his phone for the fifth consecutive time, Angela decides to pry.

“How’s the beautiful roomie? Still just a roommate?” she asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Tim answers.

Angela waits for an elaboration, but Tim doesn’t offer one. She looks at Nyla, who gives a knowing look. It’s obvious that Tim is softening toward you, but you haven’t made enough of an impact that he’s less grumpy or snappy. As the day continues, his usual personality returns, convinced that you must be okay, or you would have called.

The next day, after learning that you are, in fact, feeling better, Tim is back to his pre-roommate levels of anger and high strung-ness. To worsen his mood, you wake him up with a nightmare but refuse to let him in, not even acknowledging his kind questioning as to how you are. He’s worried about you because you welcomed his presence before, but he is also angry that you changed so quickly, and now you don’t trust him. Everything is piling on, and Tim isn’t sure how much more he can carry.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just tell me something,” Angela presses.

“Stay out of it, Lopez!” Tim yells, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “I didn’t even want a puppy- a roommate! If you like her so much, why don’t you take her in?”

Angela waits for his shoulders to drop slightly before asking, “Timothy… is this because you don’t like her, or because you do?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he turns away, offering to go on patrol while Nolan and Celina go to the shooting range. Everyone seems to think they know Tim better than they do; Angela is pushing him toward you while you’re distancing yourself, and the push and pull is tiring.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim waits in his truck in the driveway for a few minutes before walking in. When he walks in, you’re standing in the kitchen. He hasn’t actually seen you since the day of your last migraine when you stopped trusting him, and your sudden willingness to be in the same area confuses him. Anger and confusion rarely mix well; with Tim, it’s a fatal combination.

You notice his tension and knitted brows, chewing your bottom lip before asking, “Are you okay?”

Stumbling to his tipping point for the second time in the day, Tim takes all his anger and confusion over his feelings out on you.

“What do you think? You can’t decide if I’m worth trusting with something as small as a nightmare, and Angela thinks that I’m practically neglecting you,” he begins.

You swallow harshly as his voice rises, stumbling backward when he starts moving his arms. 

“Especially considering I didn’t even want you here!”

Flinching, you snap your eyes closed and catch yourself on the corner of the wall. Tim freezes as he watches you. Everything begins snapping into place in his mind: your nightmares and the distance added to your reaction to him yelling and moving his hand are all signs he should have noticed sooner.

Your chest is heaving as you take short breaths, and when you finally open your eyes, you look terrified. Tim steps back, keeping his hands where you can see them. You focus on him as you slide down the wall, cradling your head in your hands as you fight off bad memories and a growing headache.

Tim watches you before sitting on the floor, keeping his distance. He waits for you to calm down, willing to let you decide whether or not you want to talk to him. You finally look back up at him, but he doesn’t move.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Can I come closer?” Tim asks.

You nod, and Tim slides across the floor, not wanting to stand up and look any more imposing than necessary. His knee presses gently against your thigh, and when you don’t move, he gives you a small smile – the first you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you say, fiddling with your fingers.

“Please don’t,” Tim replies, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, just angry with a long day. But that’s no reason to yell at you or act like that. You confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“Don’t. When I was younger, my dad took his anger out on me sometimes. I’m sure I deserved it once or twice, but I also know better than to treat people like an emotional outlet. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nod before saying, “My ex.”

Tim feels a protective surge at the idea of anyone hurting you, let alone doing it enough times that yelling pushes you to the point of a panic attack.

After comforting you with proximity and kind words, Tim offers to walk you to bed. Your hand brushes his as he opens your door, and you smile as you thank him for everything. It’s a minor change in your relationship but an important one.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim leaves before you wake up the following morning, determined to find out as much as he can about you and your past. He’s not necessarily being nosy, but he wants to know if there’s anything specific that could help or hurt you.

“What do you know?” he demands as he storms up to Angela’s desk.

“About what?” she replies, raising her brows.

“What do you mean ‘about what’? Her!”

Nyla leans back in her chair, glad to watch the unfolding drama.

“Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela explains.

“Why’d she move to LA?”

“Are you seriously trying to find something wrong with her? That’s low.”

Tim moves around her desk, dropping his voice to answer, “I’m trying to figure out who thought it was okay to put their hands on her. Because she won’t let me in.”

Angela begins connecting the dots you left untouched. You ran from the person controlling your life, not your actual life. She knew that you were omitting something during your initial meeting, but she didn’t expect it to be so big.

“Have you been open with her?” Angela asks finally. “Because that’s a two-way street. I’ll talk to her if you want me to, but she trusts you, Tim.”

“How do you know that?”

Nyla’s eyes bounce back and forth like she’s watching a tennis game. She sighs before deciding to interject. “She told her! Sent her a text one night!” she calls out, smiling and waving when Angela and Tim look at her.

Tim nods, giving Angela the closest she’ll get to an apologetic look before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Returning home, Tim is surprised to find you on the couch, in your work clothes, with your face pressed into a pillow. You wave your fingers without moving to acknowledge him, and he remains silent as he walks to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to be silent, it’s your house,” you mumble. “I’ll figure out a way to get to the bedroom.”

“You’re fine here,” Tim answers, setting a glass of water beside you. “Another migraine?”

“Skull fractured from getting my head pushed through a window a few months ago,” you explain with a sigh. “The migraines have gotten worse since then.”

Tim lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you plenty of time to tell him not to touch you. You don’t, relaxing under his touch instead. Tim takes a seat beside you, hoping to comfort you once more.

“Your ex?” Tim asks. 

You hum a yes, and Tim’s jaw tightens, even as he comforts you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the police station, Tim’s wallet is tucked safely in your bag. Approaching the front desk, you say your name and are wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge before someone gives you directions. You don’t have time to argue, shrugging as you attempt to remember where to turn. Angela sees you before you see her, rushing to your side and looping her arm with yours.

“What are you doing here?” she asks happily.

“Uh, Tim forgot his wallet. I was just going to drop it off, but they sent me back here,” you answer.

Tim says your name, coming around a corner, and Angela pushes you toward him, joining Nyla as they watch your interaction.

“You know she was trying to get you a girlfriend and not just a roommate, right?”

Tim nods a thanks as he accepts his wallet, glancing over at your audience. “I’m half-tempted to make them think I kicked you out.”

You smile brightly, and Tim licks his lips to keep his smile from mirroring yours. His eyes tell you more than enough, and you’re happy to see him, too.

“Do it,” you whisper. “Just let me know when so I can play my part. Angela told me to call her if you were ever mean to me.”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer, opting to wink at him before stepping back. Waving at Angela and Nyla, you leave the station as they rush to Tim’s side. As they ask overlapping questions and talk about how cute you and Tim look standing together, Tim ignores them before walking away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is pulled from his sleep by your panicked yell. He leaves his bed and barges into your room with no thought. His heart rate slows when he sees your teary face and tangled sheets.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you wipe your tears. “I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

Tim sits beside you, opening an arm toward you. It’s a bold move, especially for him, but you take his offer and curl into his side.

“Are- did you mean it when you said I could talk about it?” you ask.

Tim nods, and you tell him more, but not everything. You remind yourself that he’s your roommate and maybe, just maybe, he's your friend, but he’s not here to listen to all of your baggage.

“The last thing he said before I left was, ‘there is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.’”

“You know that wasn’t love,” Tim replies, waiting for your nod before continuing. “And I’ve got your back, Angela and Nyla are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

Drifting back to sleep in his warm, safe embrace, you finally learn what it’s like not to be scared.

When you wake alone, neither you nor Tim acknowledge what happened. You’re okay with slow changes, as long as there are changes.

“Tim,” you say, interrupting him on his way out. “Thank you. For last night.”

“I’m only ever a call away,” he reminds you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your head starts aching around noon, quickly worsening into a full-blown migraine. When you’re ready to go home, it’s bad enough that you can’t drive. Sitting in your car and resting your head against the steering wheel, you want to call Tim but can’t find the strength to move.

Tim, meanwhile, returns home and begins wondering where you are. He calls, and you don’t answer, so he lets his worry control him as he gets back in his truck and drives your usual route. Tim hopes to pass you or find you waiting as someone changes your tire. When he gets to the parking lot of your job and sees you slumped in your car, he has to fight not to panic.

Rushing to the door, he’s both grateful and concerned that it’s unlocked. He kneels beside you, saying your name before bending to see you. Your eyes are tightly closed, but tears are still leaking out. 

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.

You whimper as he picks you up, clinging to him until he lays you down in the backseat of his truck, buckling you in as well as possible.

“Hospital can’t help,” you mumble.

Tim wants to argue, but remembers what you said about the skull fracture. You’ve already been to the doctor, so maybe getting you home and comfortable will be enough.

After a nap partially influenced by unbearable pain, you wake to see Tim sitting by your bed.

“Why are you so nice to me? You didn’t even want a roommate,” you mutter sleepily.

Tim smiles, making you think you’re hallucinating. “Yet I got something better.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t quite make it to work the next day. Walking into the station, you’re surprised when Nyla greets you first.

“I’m assuming it’s a joke,” she says.

You furrow your brows in confusion before you see Tim leaning on a desk with his arms crossed while Angela yells at him.

“Unless he really kicked you out,” Nyla adds.

You nod, walking towards Angela and Tim.

“No, you don’t get to blame me! I got you a roommate, a friend, a beautiful woman who could have been more than a friend, and you’re mad at me?” Angela exclaims.

Tim locks eyes with you, not changing his expression as he gauges whether or not her yelling is upsetting you.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask Tim.

Angela steps back, hoping to hear Tim apologize, but he stands up and gestures for you to follow him without speaking. Worried that you’re sick again, Tim waits silently.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I just wanted to see you.”

Not believing something so simple, Tim shakes his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw a guy who looked like him while I was driving to work. He was yelling at a girl outside of a diner, and it made me nervous.” You keep your eyes on the floor, but Tim gently raises your head.

“You’re not alone, and I know that things still seem uncertain, and probably will for a long time, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m here.”

“Then why’d you kick me out?” you tease with a pout.

Tim shakes his head, telling you to go before following you out. You wipe an imaginary tear before waving at Angela.

“No, you’re not leaving,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward her desk.

Nyla smiles at Tim, and he sighs before following.

“Tell me exactly what happened between you two,” Angela commands.

You look past her before tensing, and Tim immediately catches on. He follows your line of vision and sees Nolan and Celina booking someone. You shrink in on yourself, and Tim moves to block your view.

“Get her out of here,” he tells Angela.

Angela doesn’t wait before obeying, ushering you into the bullpen and out of sight.

“What’s the charge?” Tim asks Celina.

“Assault. Beat up a woman outside a diner,” she answers.

Tim’s jaw tightens at the knowledge that this man made you nervous this morning, reminding you of your ex. He hates abuse in every situation, but when you’re involved, his protectiveness and anger differ. Tim leaves before saying or doing something he’ll regret.

When he finds you in the bullpen, he takes one look at you before hugging you. It’s quick, but Angela and Nyla look at each other in shock.

“So, you’re good?” Nyla asks.

“We were never bad,” you reply. “Just wanted to get back at Angela for trying to set us up.”

“It worked?” Angela inquires excitedly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Tim repeats, looking over at you. He shrugs as he concedes, “Okay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets home, he drops his stuff by the door, raising his arms in question as he looks at you. “Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t made a move. How do I know you’re not just protective and caring under that handsome, gruff exterior?” you ask with a shrug.

Tim shakes his head, cupping the back of your head gently as he kisses you. You raise your hands over his chest to hold his jaw, pushing yourself closer as you reciprocate his every move.

“Because I don’t protect just anyone like this,” he says against your lips.

You kiss him again before asking, “Does this mean you can reduce my rent?”

Tim rolls his eyes, tucking you against his side where you’re safe from everything and everyone. 

[theorphicangel]

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne @strawberryjuice9 @beezusvreeland @faretheeoscar @lunablackcosplay @t4naiis @peachey-pie @mcmiracles @hardlystrictlystarwars @migueloharastruelove @fruityfucker @kingtwhiddleston

series

previous chapter | next chapter

Chapter 5: Crime and Punishment

Miguel would be lying if he said that he’s been able to sleep well lately.

He’s been lucky to get any sleep at all.

He’s managed to fit into the college lifestyle pretty decently. He’s set up a routine that he follows religiously: Wake up, work out, coffee, read up on pre-lecture notes, lectures, eat, work shift, lab work, eat, study, read up on his post-lecture notes, sleep and repeat.

That's all he can do here. Ever since he’s arrived onto campus he’s been successful in maintaining a bubble away from…all of that shit going on at home. It’s been a pretty useful distraction.

But…something that he can’t consciously admit to himself, is that being in a bubble means leaving everything that’s going on at home on a backburner.

Miguel stares up at his ceiling from his bed, his hands behind his head, resting on his pillow. If he stares for long enough then he can just about match up patterns from the wall paint and if he stares for even longer than that, then they start to slowly move. He’s been awake for a few hours now, only managing to make it to around 3am before waking up or rather jolting awake. But he’s used to early mornings. Always was.

Unexpectedly, his phone begins to vibrate on his bedside table. He frowns, his alarm isn’t due to go off for five more minutes. Leaning onto his side, he peers over at whomever is calling him at this hour. His screen brightens up with the caller ID.

‘Gabriel is calling….’

Miguel stares at the phone for what seems like forever until it stops ringing.

A minute later, just when he thought he was in the clear, text messages began to come through. One right after the other.

Gabriel: (sent 6:56am)

- I know you’re awake mig’

- Look, if you’re not going to answer, fair enough, but you’re going have to face it and communicate with us one day.

(sent 6:57am)

- Just talk to mamá por favor. If not now then it’ll be worse at thanksgiving.

- Trust me.

Miguel places the phone down after reading the messages from his home screen. He chews on his bottom lip, a mix of emotions beginning to grow in his gut. He’s not sure what they are exactly but they seem to make up the familiar combination of anxiety, guilt and fear. He curses to himself under his breath, rubbing his hands across his face.

‘Por dios, you’re so pathetic. Tonto, what are you doing?’ [fool]

He can’t help but reflect on his avoidant behavior, he knows what he’s doing but he just can’t seem to muster up the courage to face his problems. He knows that going to college is essentially him avoiding his problems and he knows that he’s in the wrong for leaving his brother to try and pick up the pieces despite Miguel supposing to be the older sibling.

Falling back into his avoidant behavior Miguel pushes his thoughts away with a sigh and forcefully drags his limbs out of bed.

He’s about to head to the bathroom to brush his teeth when another text comes through from Gabriel.

And this one is impossible to ignore.

Gabriel: (sent 6:01am)

- ‘Also…why is your car for sale on Craigslist?’

- ‘For 69 bucks?’

Miguel: (sent 6:01am)

-What?’

/

“Girl, are you okay?”

MJ’s voice snaps you back out from reality and you stumble over your words in giving a reply.

“What? Oh, uh– yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

It was an obvious lie, but MJ doesn’t get paid enough to deep dive into your problems and judging by your body language you’d rather she not say anything at all anyways.

Telling your mother – or rather — lying to your mother that you had a boyfriend has to be one of the stupidest things that you have ever done. And trust me, you have done many stupid things.

But where the fuck were you going to get a boyfriend? And most importantly, who?

Lyla had suggested Peter at first and you had too but that was before you realized that he had an ever-growing crush on MJ. And like I said, you don’t get paid enough to care but you’re pretty sure that she likes him back. Now more than ever, you’ve been noticing them together, often third wheel to their awkward but cute interactions together. He’s nervous and chatty but she’s a good listener and you figure that they balance each other out.

Now only if you could find someone like that. Someone that your mom would believe that you’re dating. Maybe you should ask Peter if he has any friends who are available. Maybe you could–

Your thoughts are disrupted by the sound of MJ calling your name. You glance over to the counter to where she’s serving a customer and by the looks of it…it’s a very well-known customer.

“Someone wants to see you.”

As she tells you so, you can’t help but notice her tone indicating a tone of flirtation between you and this particular customer but once you see the look on his face, you know that it will never get to that point.

Miguel is the one standing by the counter and a chill runs down your spine when you meet his eyes. He’s staring at you, unblinking, with his jaw forcibly clenched.

Shit, you think, he definitely knows by now.

“Uh, sure.” You say, putting down the towel that you were currently wringing with your hands. As you make your way around the counter you try your best not to look nervous as you approach him.

“Outside.” He murmurs, his tone and face grave.

You follow him without a single word, a hole of anxiety opening up in the pit of your stomach.

The two of you make it outside, the bitter October air nipping at your bare arms. Wrong day to wear a short sleeved shirt, you think to yourself, attempting to distract your mind from the tension of the conversation that you’re about to have. You can feel your cheeks begin to go cold and you cross your arms in a failed attempt to maintain your warmth.

“What the fuck is this?” Miguel shows you his phone screen.

You could tell he was seething, despite him seeming to maintain his calm externally. His phone screen is open on a website browser illustrating an advert for a car and you recognise that it’s his car.

It was your advert.

You squint your eyes, pretending like you’ve never seen it before. “I don’t know what that is.”

“Don’t keep up the bullshit. I know it was you. Who else would do this shit to me for revenge?”

You shug, attempting to seem nonchalant. “Maybe you have a lot of enemies out there Miguel, especially with the way that you treat people.”

Miguel frowns, a crease appearing between his brows. He opens his mouth to speak yet you manage to beat him to it.

“How’d you even know that was me? It’s not nice to throw accusations around y’know?”

Miguel snorts. “And you know what else is not fucking nice? Selling other people’s cars!”

At the sound of his raised voice, you look around to see if there was anyone approaching. It was early morning, the morning lecture coffee rush awaited you in just fifteen minutes. By then you had to get rid of Miguel.

You were infuriating him by the second, it was beginning to grow clear that your innocent trick was not working. That deep pit of anxiety in your stomach began to grow larger and larger, your palms getting sweaty in the process.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have done it if you were a little nicer to people and if you hadn’t posted that review.”

“Oh, so it was you?”

Shit.

Miguel continues on. “It’s illegal to sell other people’s property without permission, you know that right?”

“Of course I do.” you lied. You stammer for a few seconds, searching for an excuse. “You nearly made me lose my job for fuck’s sake.”

“You didn’t lose it.”

“Nearly!”

“But you’re still here aren’t you?”

You groan aloud, not believing the words that are coming out of his mouth. “You’re acting like such a jerk!”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

You cross your arms. “You don’t even have proof that it was me. That’s not my email account.”

He clicks his tongue. “Quit the lying, it doesn’t look good on you. Plus, Peter told me you were looking for my car.”

Remember earlier when you said that lying to your mother about having a boyfriend was the stupidest thing that you had done? Yeah, well scratch that.

“You could get criminally charged for this, do you realize that? Attempted theft or whatnot. And then not only would you lose your job but it’d get you suspended from the university too.”

Your face falls. “I wasn’t actually going to sell it–”

“But it seems like you didn’t think about that did you?” His tone was venomous, sharp enough to cause physical pain to you.. You can’t help but feel as if he was getting some sort of pleasure out of this, out of threatening you. “Not so smart are you? I’m almost glad that I caught you, if Peter didn’t tell me–”

“If you’re going to go to the cops then I’ll take full blame.” You interrupt. “Peter had nothing to do with this.”

Miguel raises a brow. “I didn’t think you’d take full responsibility.”

“Yeah, well I don’t like to do bad things to innocent people.” you spat.

“Innocent?” He repeats. “Wow, tienes sentido del humor.” [ ‘you’re quite the comedian’ / you have a sense of humor’]

You bite down on your lip. “I'll take it down but you promise not to drag Peter into this?”

Miguel nods. “You have till the end of the day to take it down.”

“Okay.”

“Good.”

“You won’t call the cops on me?”

He shrugs. “I can’t promise that I won’t and–” Miguel points a finger at you to stop your interruption. “There’s nothing that you can say that would change my mind if I do.”

Your shoulders defleat. Great. You’ve just somehow managed to make your life a living hell all for the satisfaction of revenge.

“Oh.” He turns around to face you. “And for your information, I deleted the review ages ago.”

It takes a few seconds for his words to sink in.

Oh great.

“You fucking–”

“What? Bastard? Jerk? Go ahead, call me all of the names you want, nena. Don’t you think that you’ve done enough damage for once?”

Ouch. You’re not even sure how to respond to his last comment.

You remain silent as you stand on the curb watching Miguel leave, your fists are curled up by your sides. Your nails dig into your palms until it hurts, trying to distract your mind from the full tsunami of anxiety that paralyzes your body.

What the fuck do you do now?

You don’t think that your life could get any worse than this. Not by a mile. In less than 48 hours you’ve managed to be not only a liar but a criminal.

As you step into the cafe there might as well be a visible gray cloud over your head. MJ knows not to ask any questions as you return back to your station. She gives you a longing look, wordlessly asking if you were okay. Ignoring it, you keep your head down, trying to bite back your tears until the end of the shift.

‘Keep it in until the end of your shift.’ you told yourself. ‘Keep it all in.’

You: still nil*

Miguel: 2

*[point redacted due to illegal activity]

leave a comment to lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

[jacesvelaryons]

valentines

tom blyth x kpopidol!fem!reader

fc: jennie kim of blackpink

part two to english love affair

notes: and i’m back! you must’ve feared i’d never post again but i’m more inspired than ever. thank you for someone suggesting a valentines post, and for once im early. most posts will be coming from me soon!

please request, send me anons, talk to me, suggestions and what not. i do soc med aus and also written blurbs and have plans for stories about tom and his characters. ♥️

hope you enjoy! again please like, follow, share, and most especially reblog with your lovely comments to reach more and send me feedback/comments on anything.

divider by @cafekitsune

yourusername

liked by hunterschafer and 5,009,656 likes

happy valentines to my heart of heart, the soul of my soul, my best friend, the light of my life and more. my life has never been the same since you’ve been it, and i wouldn’t want it any other way. i love you @/tomblyth

user145 THEYRE SO CUTE

randomuser8 oh i’m so single 🤒

tomblyth i love you too, my sweet 🩷

↪️ yourusername i love you so much

↪️ tomholland2013 oh get a room guys 🙄

↪️ yourusername @/zendaya go get your man please

↪️ zendaya 🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️🚶‍♀️i don’t know what you mean

↪️ tomholland2013 HEY! 😭😭

jessicalxander dream couple!

hallebailey you guys are so perfect together

tayrussell send the wedding invites please 🙏

↪️ user7 HUH?

↪️ ynfan she’s playing we know y/n and tom are so busy to even think of it lol

tomblyth

liked by alexademie and 2.8m others

my siren, my muse. as another valentines rolls in, i never wish to take this for granted as another milestone simply and enjoy everyday i’ve had with you, my angel. my brilliant, talented, gorgeous, intelligent girl. i love you @/yourusername

jenaissante treating my girl right as you should 😌

↪️ yourusername love youu girlie pop 🫂

↪️ ynfan6 tom found dead in a ditch who?

user197 aww him following her in the studios to watch her produce so cute

johnnyjsuh and when are we getting that solo song y/n? 🤨

↪️onyourm__ark yeah @/yourusername where’s all that studio time going

↪️ yourusername trust it’s coming soon 🙏🙏

↪️ user67 she said this last time i hate ___ entertainment 😭

username9 she’s so pretty i wish to be like her when i grew up

antifan8 get this ugly off tom’s profile

↪️ tomblyth you have no right to insult my girlfriend like that. get out my page otherwise.

↪️ randomuser5 tom defending his girl as he should

user77 nobody send a truck in front her company she ain’t leaving her man

liked by yourusername

yourusername

liked by tomblyth and others

oh how i love love.

usernamehere her apron is so cute does anyone know where it’s from?

↪️ random8 probably couture or something at this point or goop lol

↪️ user7 probably my mom made this

↪️ ynfan725 who’s momma?

↪️ user7 that’s the brand 😭

↪️ ynfan725 oh my bad ignore me lol 😅

user86 she’s so spoiled by him and he in turn manifesting this for me

random9 me next year

user7775 that cake must be so good and easy to make

↪️ fan721 i’m a pastry chef and make these and they ain’t easy lol

kpopfan421 ynnie what’s the name of your bear?

↪️ yourusername not sure 🤔 any suggestions?

↪️ user8 how about tommy!

↪️ yourusername lets go with that 😁

tomblyth

liked by mayahawke and 7.8m others

ynfan856 oh y/n you are so loved

random1002 the daily love notes in the mirror and countdown oh i’m sick

melissabarrera 🩷

oliviarodrigo how romantic!

rachelzegler putting in the effort blyth!

↪️ tomblyth anything for my girl

↪️ rachelzegler ofc because i’d steal her from you if you don’t 😝

austinbutler great job man

yourusername

liked by taylorswift and 10.5m likes

so grateful, i’m speechless.

alexconsani OKAY GIRLL GET THE BAG

↪️ yourusername learned from you sis 😍

user86 this has to be the most liked post on ig in a while

kpopfan454 do they have this on amazon lol

↪️ user1111 you checked craigslist or something i’ve given up 😭😭

random723 oh he has to be rich rich to give her that

↪️ user913 GOOD FOR HER!

hunterschafer you deserve this and more my angel

↪️ yourusername love you so much hunty im going to cry

[fluffvstheworld]

hihi! i had n idea so i was holping you could indulge me maybe... matthew patel with a (male) reader who saw him fight in the rockit and made a craigslist post to try and find him again afterwards? idk if it makes sense but i think it would be silly :-3

A/n: This was such a cute prompt to write TToTT hope I did it justice! I decided to use the original universe in this one because I feel like Matthew would be moping on his computer after losing to Scott

Note: Although no pronouns are used, it was written in mind for a male reader

Reader Trying to Find Matthew Patel on Craigslist After the Rockit

You were pretty excited for the battle of the bands

It was Crash and the Boys vs Sex Bob-omb, two of the most well known indie bands in Toronto

There was a lot you were expecting. Cool songs, the fun of competition, the excitement in the crowd…

What you weren’t expecting was a man blasting his way from the balcony towards one of the main bassists

As he got punched back into the crowd by Scott, landing himself fashionably, you finally got a good look at him

And to your surprise... he was quite cute!

A lot of talk started about his ex-girlfriend in the crowd, a league of exes apparently made in her stead. But once they stopped, the fighting started again

Along with a musical number!

You do admit it was quite catchy

Sadly the mysterious boy was defeated, sent back to his home only leaving $2.10 in his wake

But as you walked out of the venue in shock, there was only one thing on your mind:

I need to find that guy!

And the thought stuck to you like glue

At your home, at your job, on the bus, etc

Even now, as you lay on your bed staring up at your ceiling, the thought still continued its rampage in your mind

Your eyes slowly wandered towards your desk, most of its space being taken from your computer

You shut your eyes in thought for a moment before promptly getting up and sitting down on the chair. You were not going to wait any longer, otherwise you were going to go insane

Booting up the crappy piece of hardware was a challenge, but eventually you got onto craigslist and into the general tab, typing away

[Hey! The other day there was this guy at the Rockit fighting the bassist for Sex Bob-omb.. anyone know him? I think his name was Matthew?]

After you clicked enter, you leaned back into your chair and waited

And it surprisingly didn't take too long

A notification from your email made your heart jump as you quickly clicked onto it

[...Are you perhaps talking about me?]

You smiled widely. You finally found him!

[Depends. Is your name Matthew Patel?]

[...yes?]

[Then yes!]

[May I perhaps ask as to why?]

[Your musical number left a very big impression on me. Plus I think you're cute.]

Although you couldn't see it, you could tell the comment flustered him as the next email came back a few minutes later

[Oh..!]

You giggled a bit to yourself. Guess he didn't really know what to say to that

[Was that a good or a bad 'oh'?]

[..A good one I guess.]

[Well that's good at least haha. I was thinking... do you wanna meet up one of these days? I know you live in America, but I want to learn more about you!]

[Oh.. sure! I live close enough to the border.]

[Alright, it's a date then! Meet you back at the Rockit this Thursday?]

[Sure.. though I didn't quite catch your name.]

You smiled as you typed in your name and leaned back once more

[Well alright then, I'll see you there]

Your grin widened as you shut off your computer to process what just happened

You got a date! With a cute guy at that!

The grin faded as you realized you needed to iron out your clothes

As you scrambled to get up from your chair towards your closet, you smiled knowing that Thursday was going to be a great day

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

gemrot fake dating au where cleo posts one of those "hi im a weird trans girl ill come to ur thanksgiving dinner with ur bigoted family and pretend to be your girlfriend to piss them off" craigslist ads and gem snaps it up only to find out that cleo is actually incredibly annoyingly charming

[pompadourpink]

hi mom! i'm starting uni in september, i'm moving to a new city so i need to start shopping and all, but also my parents didnt really give me advice and im the eldest so im kinda lost, do you have any advice?? XX

Hello darling,

The ABC:

Uni is scary because your free-will goes from 8 to 90 in two months and freedom is intoxicating. Making up for lost chances can lead to bad choices (spending, dating, partying).

If your family failed to parent you, it is now your job. Autonomy is essential. Learn to cook, budget, clean, be clean, save, be a good citizen, make scary phone calls, keep yourself safe, prioritise.

No one will force you to get up and study, or hire you at 21 when competing with a bright 18 year old. Effort will not betray you (being a grown lazy gifted child will).

Have shared hobbies, from movie Sundays with a girlfriend to knitting with your sister. A social life is a happy life.

Trust your body, it knows. Stomach cramps mean we hate him, daydreaming means try, yawning means bed, not coffee.

The home:

Make a cleaning schedule, be open-minded and reasonable, do not do or say anything your landlord wouldn't like (I fully recommend having roommates once for exposure therapy).

If you have a neighbour your age, introduce yourself. Having that phone number will one day mean not having to sleep outside or getting a package stolen. Thank them with food.

Start documenting problems right away (photos, timestamps, screenshots, testimonies) as you may need to take action later. No emotions, you're just "worried about everyone's wellbeing".

Mould, vermine and leaks are enemies. Act yesterday.

Avoid big purchases. You don't know what the future (location, size, taste) looks like. Go secondhand, neutral, practical.

Avoid silly purchases: streaming, takeout, drinks, fast fashion. You will not regret having a downpayment saved in ten years.

If you ever need to do emergency laundry, put a bin or a bucket in the shower, add water and detergent (+ soda crystal for stains or whitening), wait an hour, rinse, wring, hang.

The shopping:

My grandmother has kept her house clean with a broom, bucket, squeegee broom wrapped in a floorcloth and Marseille soap since the 60s. When something doesn't work, look back.

Must-haves: cleaning (see #1 + cloths, soda, lemons, white vinegar, steel wool), hygiene (scraper, net, shower head filtre, first aid), night (good pillow, plugs, mask) supplies, freezer if possible, water filtre, reusable period protection, winter clothes, long chargers, sunscreen, friend living at home who will lend you tools.

Must-not-haves: anything trendy, collections (even books), a pet - don't let Felix keep you back, sleep over and study in Paris!

Have an emergency kit (+ whatever you need) + a smaller version in the car/at the office (with cash).

Fresh fruit, starches, a few types of frozen vegetables, of cans of legumes, of fresh, canned and frozen protein, a treat, something fun once in a while to experiment + a (bi-)monthly outing.

A couple of formal outfits. Large black dress pants, white shirt, dark grey thin jumper, pencil skirt, blazer, large coat, trench coat, loafers, heels, tall boots. Never slouchy or skin tight, plain.

Craigslist, Facebook marketplace, thrift stores. Spend a few hours making a perfect home board on Pinterest instead of listening to TikTok and taking what Ikea gives you.

The social life:

Make one or two real friends and cherish them forever. Support each other, travel, buy a house together, idk.

Don't be afraid to be/do things alone. You shouldn't be afraid of what your head says when it's not distracted.

Don't miss out on huge opportunities for people. Some are around out of necessity and will ghost you after graduation.

Do not try to impress, especially people you don't like and who don't like you. Do not do or say anything cops wouldn't like. Be a homebody who doesn't drink if that's what you want.

Do not try to educate those who will not learn.

Do not befriend someone who lacks confidence as they will make you pay for their jealousy, nor someone who wants a free therapist. Those relationships will be one-sided.

Befriend a couple of older girls. They will see through the lies of the people (men, classmates, employers) trying to fool you.

The love life:

The thirty-two year old man doesn't find you mature, he finds you inexperienced and malleable. Don't try meth thinking you're special enough to not get addicted.

If a date mocks you and you get mad, either that is who he is or he hates you. If you got mad, he is not for you. Your job is not to pretend you don't care so he can have a girlfriend.

Ask yourself if you would tell your best friend, mother, Taylor Swift, that he (hers) didn't mean it like that. If not, take a break from dating and think about why you think you don't deserve respect.

Don't forgive what you don't want to tolerate.

Don't try to force a relationship with someone who made it clear that he is, for whatever reason, not interested. You will be played like a fiddle until he meets someone he wants.

Don't try communicating with someone who is messing with you on purpose. No one ignores you for three days or sleeps with your friend or breaks your favourite necklace after an argument by accident. Also, your husband would never.

The daily life:

Have a clean e-mail address (firstname.lastname) for official biz and a casual one (f.lastna) for everything else, a solid password (Lanadelrey1984#) - change it yearly - and a list of the usernames and passwords you didn't pick.

If you don't trust your parents, block them off your account or open a new one when you turn 18 before they rob you.

Save a year worth of expenses, don't purchase what you couldn't buy twice now, don't replace what still works, give yourself week-long thinking periods before spending.

Get folders for your paperwork and keep them safe + take pictures for an encrypted Drive (beware of iCloud): diplomas, flat, car, big purchases, work, taxes, health, etc.

Print pics and make albums. One day, the app will die.

Mind your health. Exercise weekly (cardio/strength, ex: runs + weighted Pilates), walk, get more water, sleep, and fibre, take vitamin D, mind your eyes/ears/skin/teeth, stretch, leave.

Only invest energy, money, or time into what is worth it. FaceTime before the date. Get secondhand leather boots instead of replacing plastic. Drop the book after 100 bad pages.

Refuse conversations with people whose lives you wouldn't want, who happily overwork for a mediocre wage and don't know how old their children are. The handcuffs are homemade.

The job:

People will not forget how you made them feel and the world is a small place. Colleagues, clients, bosses will gossip: make sure it is for good reason. Dress and look clean, stand straight, be on time, never ever gossip, even when you were wronged.

Understand the power of sobriety. Be known for the success of your last project, not your bright skirts or temper.

Protect future you so you get the promotion/project/raise. No friends, no enemies. Smile, have neutral answers, make them talk, move on, make your IG private, google your name.

Lie. You don't avoid them, you eat lunch with your nana (hi Paula, no, I forgot about the hairdresser's), weren't unemployed, your father was ill, cannot go out, you have a birthday party.

Act boring with the jealous old woman or the obnoxious man. Take the fake compliment for a real one, don't understand the innuendo, have too much work to chat. Bullies get bored.

Instead of clapping back (see #3), be Cinderella, who ignores the insults and turns to Mr. No nonsense, who has been there twenty years, worryingly asking if Ethel is okay, I don't know what to do (no mention of ego, you're just distraught about her).

Sites to look up: Proton (mail, VPN, drive), Notion.

Love,

Mum

(PS - apologies if the she/he thing doesn't match you, this is a flexible plan for all of my children)

[impactvelocity]

It's my absolute favorite time of year, the perfect time to read all the thanksgiving date craigslist ad fic

I'm sure I haven't read all of them, but I'm psyched to read these again this year:

The Home For The Holidays Job by aurora_atalanta

Leverage OT3, I thought about it all year. It feels very *them.*

the day before you came by Phoebmonster

Legends of Tomorrow - avalance convincing Ava's mom she's gay, it's delightful

And I stumbled upon one I really liked-- How to Piss off Your Dad by skyeward, which is Jack/Miranda from Mass Effect, a thing I didn't even realize I wanted to read.

Anyway, tomorrow I'm planning to read some new ones, but I'd love recs, you should absolutely tell me your faves.

An Alien Girlfriend for Thanksgiving by ailaikclarke. (Lena/Kara)

Stuffed, Mashed & Basted meleedamage. (Darcy/Bucky)

Something to Be Thankful For numba1fangirl. (Kirk/Spock)

Alone on Thanksgiving? Mad at your dad shirasade. (Jace/Alec)

talks like a gentleman by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin). (Alex/Henry from rwrb)

The ad, if you've not seen it.

[vwv-watching-boy]

Merry Craigslist. Here is the Sam chapter. Which is my favorite. 🤭

Still not beta read. But at this rate my work will never be beta read. 😅

-------------------------

June 15th

Lying to your friends about what day your birthday is, is a lot like lying to keep your cover up. You better believe the lie you gave them as much as they do. Unless you want them to know you’re lying.

Sam knocks on the door of the loft. I answer. Fiona stands in the kitchen. I move out of the way to let him in and head to the kitchen myself.

“Fiona.” Sam says while he walks for a beer. “I was hoping I could borrow Michael today. I need him for a favor.”

“Only if you promise to return him to me.”

“Ill return him if he wants to come back. Who knows? Maybe he’ll find a better home with me.”

“I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate you having a live in male friend. She’ll get jealous. And then you’ll be left homeless again.” Fi’s hand is resting on the lower part of my back as she says that.

“Wow tiger. No need for you to get jealous. Come on, it’s something simple. I’ll owe you one,” Sam says, finishing off his beer.

“Only if you owe me.” She shoves me towards Sam and starts heading to the door. “Toodaloo boys. Me and Maddie are getting our nails done today.”

“Do I get a say in this at all” I chime in as she reaches the door.

They both look towards me and in unison say “No.” Fiona walks out and Sam comes up and slings his arm over my shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, Mikey. What are now? Old enough to drink yet.”

“Ha ha, Sam, very funny.” I do crack a smile despite my dry response to his joke. “I can’t help I joined the military before 21.”

Today is the anniversary of when I got my dad’s, well technically my mom’s, signature. Which let me join the military earlier. What better person to celebrate that with other than my friend who knew me while I was in the military? Under the guise of it’s my birthday.

“So the Usual, Mikey.” Sam walks forward, dragging me with him. I wrap my arm around his shoulders as well and match my step with his.

“The usual, Sam.”

“Oh, I am going to beat your score today.”

“You can try Sam. You can try.”

We get into Sam’s car. We drive in silence for a while. It’s always like that on ‘my birthday’. Quite, peaceful, and relaxing. I trust Sam. The biggest birthday gift he gives me is being around and being vigilant. I can relax, if only by a little. I think he’s known this since I met him. I remember the first time we celebrated my birthday.

Sam called me, saying he needed something from me. He gave me a hotel address and room number. It was on the 5th floor, no windows, extra security. Once I got in the room, he was sitting there with a bottle of unopened scotch.

“Sit down, Mikey.” He looked up at me and smiled. I did. I walked over slightly. The hair on my neck standing up. I kept glancing around the room. What was happening? This was odd. “Michael, sit down. It’s your birthday. Did you forget?” I did. I had lied to him a couple of years ago when he asked. “This isn’t a trap. Relax.”

I didn’t listen to his words. I stayed on my guard the entire time. He kept going on and on about how he carefully picked where to take me. How he used a fake name, how he personally background checked all the staff at the location we were at. He used a different car to get here. He faked where he was actually going.

And then he did it again next year, and the next, and the next. He did it every year. He would sit and explain everything he did to ensure it was safe. I was safe. Eventually, I relaxed on this day, because I knew Sam was keeping me safe. Never off my guard. It’s trained into you to always be on guard. But slightly less hypervigilant than normal. He stopped explaining everything he did to keep me safe. He stopped when he saw I relaxed and trusted him to keep me safe. I trust Sam to keep me safe.

I feel myself smile while thinking of the past. Sam pulls up and eventually parks.

“This, Mikey, is a shooting range.”

“Yea, Sam. I can see the sign.”

“Way to take the wind out of my sails.” He sits there for a few seconds and goes, “Alright. It’s fine. Let’s just go in. I worked really hard for your birthday this year.”

“You say that every year, Sam.”

“Because it’s true every year, Michael.”

“Wow, full name. Next, you’ll send me to the principal’s office.”

“More like I’ll call your mother. Me and her are close friends.” He pushes the door open and walks to the front desk. He leans over and starts whispering to the lady. I look around, trying to understand the layout of this new place. After a couple of minutes of hushed whispers, Sam turns back to me.

“Let’s go.” He says. And points in the direction we ought to head. We set off. We arrive in a private room. The doors lock from the inside. Dead bolt, and a fancy tech lock, plus a chain. None of it is probably needed, but it’s doing it for me that matters. There is a set of weapons, no security cameras, and a single target.

“No security cameras and a bunch of loaded weapons. Sam, this better not be the year you kill me.”

“Haha, Mike, if I was planning on doing that, I would have done it when you first lowered your guard. Alright you got first round.” Sam hands me a shotgun. “Stoner 63. Not technically gun of the year back then. But one of the best. You get to keep it.”

“How did you get it?”

“A magician never tells. Pretty good gift, I say so myself. Cause now I only need to get you the attachments each year.”

“Cheating out on the gifts, aren’t ya?”

“Come on, Mikey. You’re easy to shop for. Any new flashy toy will do you good. Now shoot your gun. We only have an hour here. Next is paintball.” I give him a sideways look.

“Paintball?”

“Yep. Had a discount. Now go. I want a turn too.” I shake my head and chuckle. Then fire the gun. Me and Sam go back and forth, taking turns on the target until our time is up. We go back to his car and he starts driving to paintball.

“I can’t believe you’re taking me to paintball.”

“I can. I like winning.”

I roll my eyes and chuckle at him. We head inside. The person at the desk lights up when they see Sam. I shake my head, knowing he’s probably been here a dozen times. Maybe to scope out the place. Maybe to play a game himself. Eventually, we head back and get suited up in gear. We get helmets, padded vest, goggles, and a gun. A few other men have padded shirts they are wearing, as well as knee braces and elbow braces. They’ve been here before.

While paying to the safety instructions, I size the room up. I watch as everyone fiddles with their weapons, with for the most part a lack of knowledge and comfortability. There are maybe 3 people who hold themselves like they’ve held a weapon before. Those 3 also have extra gear, most likely avid fans of paintball. I also doubt those 3 men have held a real gun. They’re much heavier than paintball weapons. In fact, to the point if you are used to real guns holding a paintball gun should be offputting. It should feel light in your hands. You would need to look comfortable with a weapon, but unfamiliar with the one in front of you. None of these men do so. None of them other than me and Sam have any experience holding a real weapon.

Which Sam would have done on purpose. I have to give the man credit. He is always thorough.

I look at Sam. He holds the weapon how you are supposed to. The nozzle of the gun is pointed to the ground. Most everyone else has their guns pointed upwards towards the sky or accidentally aimed at their team mate. Sam’s arms are loose. He’s comfortable with the weapon.

“How many times have you been here?” I lean over and whisper to him. The safety instructions are still ongoing.

He leans in and whispers back, “Enough.”

Eventually, the safety instructions get done, and we are set loose. There were several abandoned buildings scattered around. We had five minutes to fan out and find a place to locate ourselves before shooting was allowed. Everyone scattered in different directions, all running with their partners. You could do up to groups of three. The three who seemed to play paintball a lot ran in different directions.

“Those are the bastards, Mikey. They always beat me.” I side eye Sam as he says this. “I’m not rusty. You know that. It’s a 3 v 1. You don’t expect me to win that.” I turn to Sam with my face deadpan. “Okay, well. God forbid I get lazy. They plan beforehand. They don’t talk at all during the match. Not even hand signals. I watch them closely. I need your help.”

“So paintball was never about me?”

“I said that in the car. It’s about me winning. I have to look cool for the front desk lady. You know her dad owns a Fortune 500 company. Sweet mama.”

“Okay. What’s the play? I’m assuming you have a plan.”

“Quick up on the uptake. That’s just like you, Mikey. Okay, see that building over there. They sweep that last. They take care of all the newer players first. No point in going out during that time. New players are unpredictable. It’s like working with a civilian and giving them a weapon. Except they got told to shoot you. Not worth the pain.”

“Do we go to that building, then?”

“Me, yes? You, no. See, I can always take care of the two who do the sweep. But there’s a third snipper.”

“Can’t you figure out his location?”

“Not when they change it every match. I need you to find the snipper and take care of him. Of course take care of any one else you see along the way. The snipper has to be located in a position he can see the exist of that building.”

“How many exits?”

“You can only exist from the one side. It’s why they sweep it last. They are herding everyone in there. Would not be bad minds for the military at all. Not bad one bit.”

“Are you praising the enemy right now?” I bet he’s lying to me. I doubt these 3 men actually win against him. If he wanted to, he could easily figure out where the snipper was. He could stop going to the last building they cleared. The one that forces you out one way. He’s been doing this routine for who knows how long to make the men confident they could not lose at all. He lowered their guard through repeated losing, so I didn’t have to be on mine as much. They would slip up from over confidence not us.

Sam shrugs, readies his weapon and runs off to his building. I shout from across the field, “Sam! Are you just leaving me on my own?”

“Yep! Better hide quick.” He shouts back out to me. I look around before I see an alley way with decent coverage. The five minutes it is about to run out. I try to remember the weapons the three men had and how far it would be able to shoot. They can’t shoot as far as actual guns do. The gunman in Sam’s little problem would have to be 100 yards are closer. There is one exit, so it has to be able to see that exit.

A loud air horn is heard, indicating that the five minutes are up and you can now shoot. I decide to head towards the building Sam went to, to see if I can see where I would put a gun man. I doubt he is there yet. They would need to clear the building. Maybe they will clear it first. I shoot three men on the way over. All very simple, I had no issues. There are three buildings he could be at.

I walk around the building. I know Sam is mostly likely waiting in. He’s going to make himself a sitting duck for me. There is a dumpster to the side. I can climb on that. But afterwards I’ll need a boost.

“Sam. I know you’re in there. Help me scale this wall.” I wait a few minutes before Sam pops around a corner.

“Do I have to stand on the dumpster?” I nod my head. Sam sighs and walks over to me, anyway. “The things I do for you.”

“I’m doing this for you. I’m gonna have to get down as well. Don’t want to sit in the same building as you.”

“I mean, may work. They’ll pay attention to me. You see where the shot came from? You shoot back.” My face whitens for a second.

“I was going to find their location. I already figured out what building they were most likely in. I just had to figure out where. I was going to go on the roof to find one. Then sneak into the building and kill them before they shoot you.”

“Mike. It’s paintball. You aren’t killing the man. And he’s not killing me if he gets a hit on me. Easiest way to reveal their location.”

“But don’t you want to look cool? Can’t be cool, covered in paint.”

“It’s up to you Mikey.”

“Keep the trashcan open after you boost me. I’m coming back down. I’ll eliminate him before he gets you. Just eliminate the two doing the sweeping.”

Sam boosts me up before going back in. There I set up with my paint gun. I use the scope on it to have a closer look at the building. But specifically the three men sweeping. I could try to shoot them from this range. But I would not be able to get them all. I want them moving as they usually do. Predictable. Once they go into the building, I’ll have a limited view of their movements. But the goals to watch when the go from three to two. That’s the building the sniper will be set in. That’s the building I’ll just have to find my way in and eliminate the man. That does mean passing by two people without being seen. They still are only two people. I know Sam said they didn’t talk. But I highly doubt the sniper isn’t telling them where people are on the board. I don’t think the ground men answer back.

Three go in the first building, time passes as they systematically take out anyone hiding in the building, three come out. Three go into the second building. Time passes as they sweep the entire building. Three come out. Three entire the third building. It’s the last building they could use. This is when I need to make my move. I throw myself down into the dumpster first before jumping down into it.

Based on the way they are moving, they don’t do double sweeps. They aren’t professionals at the end of the day. Of course, they wouldn’t double check. Especially if this has so clearly worked every time without a hitch. With my rifle in the ready to fire position, I head towards the second building. It took them 30 minutes to clear a building. Which is not the amount of time it would take me with 3 men. Especially with how small the buildings are. Each of them have 4 rooms. So either they are really bad at practical skills or this is when they make plans as well. I wish I had a headset to talk to Sam to about this development. But I doubt he doesn’t know. And I doubt he’s coming back again. I check my watch. It’s almost time to go.

When you are in the field, you have to be able to hear everything nearby, for impending danger. You have to be able to hear yells from across the field, the sound of gunfire going off, and you have to be able to pay attention to the patter of boots and how close they are to you. Especially if there is a chance they’ll stop and find you. Most times, that means you die. But paintball it just means you’ll have stained clothes for a while, maybe a bruise if they fire at you up close.

2 sets of boots stomp by me. They aren’t very good at being quiet and sneaky. I hear more boots and another voice from the building. It’s someone they got out. I wait for it to go quiet near me and the building next to me before I head over to it.

Entrances bottleneck you. You can’t see your full surroundings, but neither can the other person. You can both sit on each side of the doorway, shooting once in a while until one of you comes out. That’s the good thing about smoke bombs. You can just throw one in the room and it forces people to clear out. Bad thing about Paintball. You don’t have smoke bombs. You have the one rifle you were given and the gear you own.

I knew which room he was going to be in based on where they could get the shot. I could sneak into the room over by going through a window. There is no glass in paintball. Each window is always wide open. Once inside, I can make an approach. I could wait until it’s time to clear the last building. It would keep him focused on Sam instead of me, but that risk Sam getting shot. It also maybe when he’s most alert. He may be calm right now with the room being cleared.

I’m missing something. Or I’m missing nothing and over thinking the way civilians work in their fake war games. I doubt these men have more weapons than the rifles on hand. They don’t set up booby traps in the buildings they’ve cleared. I stood in one for 30 minutes with nothing happening. They are just overconfident men playing a game.

I walk in through the front door. I do my best to keep quiet and make sure the sound of my boots aren’t heard. I see the man I need to shoot in front of me. And I do. The orange paint splatters on his back. He’s out.

“Shit. What the fuck.” He whips around. He’s clearly pissed. But he’s out.

I smile at him. “Sorry. You’ve got to go.” He scowls and vacates his spot. I set up right where he was. I want to make sure the men feel as confident as possible for Sam’s plan to work. When he leaves, I make sure to barricade all the doors. I don’t want anyone getting in.

I steady my rifle against the window. I feel myself breath in and out as I focus on the doorway. I know Sam said he could take care of both men, but I have a clear shot for one. Sam can get the other when distracted. I could always trust Sam in his 2 v 1. He’s perfectly capable of doing so. I take another deep breath. And I sit here for the rest of the match. Deep breath in and deep breath out, using the scope of my gun to see what’s happening. I hear the sound of everything around me. The way the wind whistles through the concrete. The sound of paint gun fire, people getting and arguing. All the sounds whistle through my head as I ground myself on my breathing and my scope. I feel each beat of my heart in time with each breath I take. Steady and slow.

After a little while, Sam finished off the last two guys. Or I’m assuming they were. The match gets called to an end and we all return to the safety instruction room to strip ourselves of our gear.

“Wow Mikey, not a scratch on you.” I scoff at Sam’s words.

“Next time you drag me out to do something like this, bring headsets.“

“What, you didn’t like doing this without the ability to talk to each other? Little flex in our planning skills.”

“I did not like doing it. I do that enough already. I don’t need it affecting today. Isn’t this today supposed to be a day of relaxing?”

“Your telling me it wasn’t relaxing? Being in the building looking through that scope. Come on Mikey. Give me some credit. I know you well enough.” He smiles at me as he says this, knowing he was right.

We start the journey out to the parking lot.

“There were probably better places to take me if you wanted me to relax. You can give me that.” I say in response to his claims of me relaxing earlier.

“Eh. Yea. But I wasn’t kidding about that secretary.” Sam waves at the secretary and she waves back. He does a phone motion by his face and mouths the words ‘call me’. I laugh at him while he does this. Once he pays back attention to me, he wraps his arm around my shoulders and goes, “Ready for the cherry on top of the night?”

To finish up the night, Sam drives us to a nice hotel. The room he got reminds me of that first birthday. Extra security, no windows, except this time it’s a much nicer room. I’m assuming a lady friend perk. It normally always is.

Sam cracks open a bottle of Scotch. We’ll probably finish the bottle tonight. Depending on how we feel, we may just stay the night. We’ve stayed the night a couple of times. Just when we both needed to forget the year that was going on.

We don’t say anything as we sip our scotch. We just sit in comfortable, safe silence. That happens when I’m with Sam on today.

[bleeding-star-heart]

I'm not sure if we're supposed to agree with Gale's assessment of his backstory, but I sure as hell don't regardless

I mean, the way he frames it, we're supposed to think of him as on par with a world-destroying egomaniac bent on becoming a god. Except...Gale never intended to become a god. He just wanted more magic power-something he's been trained to do all his life. And when he found that there was magic that should belong to Mystra but didn't...his goal was to RETURN it to her. Which, in most logical minds, means he's actually pretty trustworthy with that power. The fact that Gale was wrong about the orb doesn't change that. And, oh, boy, Mystra's reaction does NOT make it better. Her response to her boyfriend trying to get her a present but failing is...order him to die "for the greater good". Essentially telling him to kill himself. Essentially, Gale's story reads less like an ego trip and more like someone in a REALLY toxic relationship. Like, in modern terms he's basically an autistic guy (because he gives off some autistic vibes to me a bit) whose boss happens to be his girlfriend. And he wants a promotion, but she won't give it to him. So, one day, he finds this beautiful diamond necklace on Craigslist and decides to give it to her, thinking this might get him a promotion. So then he goes to pick up the necklace from the Craigslist guy...only, it's Craiglist. So, there is no necklace, and the guy is a drug dealer, who ends up shooting Gale several times and dumping some bags of cocaine on him. And instead of being sympathetic, or caring, or moved at all, Gale's boss/girlfriend decides to fire him. And leave him to deal with the bullet wounds and bag of cocaine on his own. And later...well, you know. Yeah, I HOPE Larian isn't trying to make Gale out to be the bad guy. That's one parallel with Anders we do NOT need.

[qipsir]

Small Business masterlist for myself and a streaming community I'm in

Not a small business but this is essentially Craigslist or Ebay but free and local https://freecycle.org/

Note: to my knowledge, most of these are American brands

Gonna make a separate post for occult stuffs

Artists

Afternoon Fika - queer artist in Sweden, sells a lot of plushies

Alpaca Sews - plushies and stationary

Brothersmake - 100% recycled plastic products, you can donate your plastic (UK based)

Cellsdividing - really cool artist I got a keychain, sticker, and 2 shirts from

Katrina Wold - the cutest cat stickers I ever did see

Lumichen's Art

Lilac Fox Creative - divorced mother trying to support kids

Sara Day Art - currently fundraising for Gaza

Liz Schmidt - canine circus, website closed at the time of this post, linked to caard profile

Lunakia Art - keychains, prints, desk mats, etc

MPgautheron - skull stuff

Ivory Owl Co - genuinely one of my favourite artists their style is so cute and they wield watercolor really well

Lyric Stitches - plushies, totes, sensory pillows, and more

Vincent Trinidad - someone pointed out his art on a shirt in a tiktok video so I'm putting him here cause the art's funny/cute. Not really a small business

Jojoes Art - THE galaxy wolf artist. Art got stolen and sold worldwide (can't find his post of that but I found his fire/ice wolves)

Clothing

Assk First - brand advocating for consent

iinside my head - love love LOVE this brand. Communication shirts+hoodies, soft fabric, adorable designs, 11/10 recommend

Playing Possum Clothing Co. - will cut the tags off clothes for you if you want

Wicked Clothes

Spicy Wear - owner made a boxer line with a pad holder and a pocket for an ice/heat pack because his girlfriend likes wearing his boxers and can't on her period

Time Capsule Design - has plant shirts that's a subtle way of advocating for abortions and body autonomy

Cruel Daughter - VERY pricey, but everything is crocheted (for anyone who doesn't know, unlike knitting, crochet cannot be done by machine)

Borderline Punk Design - clothing, communication card, and stim toys

Phantomassy - glasses friendly alt/fantasy masks

LoudBodies - women-owned, up to 10XL, free custom fitting

Hail Satin Corsetry - minority-owned, made to create functional pieces of art

Bibi Pins - pins + compression items (I got compression gloves and elbow brace, didn't do anything for me and the brace was uncomfortable but the designs aren't bad)

WitchVamp - size inclusive and has bifurcated joggers (not sure what that means but hell yeah)

Planetofkind - face masks

Freethesheep - anxiety loungewear

Rebel Youth Apparel - alt unisex swimwear

Kamala's Kloset - NOT ONLINE a boutique specifically focused on gender affirmation

Jewelry

Spooky Kawaii - site says hypoallergenic jewelry. I'm personally not sure how you can know that but yeh

Himawari Jewels - handmade in Czechia, worldwide shipping, message social media for customs

KindastrangeDE - witchy and gothic jewelry

Feral Hag - bone jewelry, has deer rib hair sticks

Cords Club - hypoallergenic jewelry + flat back studs

Schatzhaus - wire wrapped jewelry

Fire And Bone - jewelry made from fossil and bone scans

VonKreep Art - spiky and bone jewelry

Corvus Cornyx - followed because they made their own finger splints and they look cool

Mushroom Zen - glass jewelry

Strange Adornments - oddity/bone jewelry

Shower + skincare

Nole - solid shampoos + solid conditioner

Kitsch - solid shampoo/conditioner, skincare, shower body stuff

Moon Shine Suds - fantasy creature blood bag bodywash

Molly Bubbles Soap Co. - all sorts of things, most well known for magnesium lotion

Jelly Wax - hair removal wax, advertised for beginners

Madani Naturals - hair care for curly hair + african net sponge

Cee Cee's Closet - where I got my african net sponge, also jewelry + bonnets

Bellanomi - african skincare brand, also known for net sponges

Base Laboratories - piercing care

Scents

Birch & Besom

Lovesick Witchery

Household stuff

Oak & Willow - from their home page "Welcome to eco-friendly living made affordable" > Note: if you are in America and really don't have the money to buy housecare for yourself, you can sign up for a list so that someone can buy a housecare package for you and you get it for free

Living Pantry - family-owned eco-friendly shop

HoldOn Bags - compostable trash, pet, and ziplock bags

Trashie - has a take-back bag for you to donate your clothes + electronics

ForgeCore - 3D printing files

Skyclad Apothecary - aka Zero Waste Apothecary on social media, bulk herbs, oils, spices, clays, all sorts of stuff

Gneiss Spice - magnetic spice jars + organic spices

Curious Hawaii - home decor made in Hawai'i

Darby's Crochet Corner - crochet plushies

Warm People Co - mostly blankets and some clothes

Understory Labyrinth - self watering ceramic pots for carnivorous plants

Cosmetics

Esoes - 'safety lipstick' w/ drug testing strips, bluetooth panic buttons, etc

Sushyglow Cosmetics - has been DRAGGED online by haters and for what? 12/10 company, well known for its bloody lip tints, I love 'em, my friends love 'em, cannot recommend enough

Sunset Makeup - coloured foundations for cosplay, GOOD COVERAGE WHITE FOUNDATION

Catacomb Cosmetics - nonbinary-owned, my friend made this company! They're super cool. Not a whole lot of stuff but the stuff they do have is lovely

Console Skins

Petimint

Other

A Wild Offering - yarn, roving, ceramics, and clothing (currently closed)

Artixan - fidgets and accomodating water bottle bags + weighted leaf pillow

Blooming Earth Herbal - herbal shop w/ skincare and tinctures and things

Cycora - textile recycling

Lair of the Llama - yarn and roving

Palestine Soda - drinks that donate profits to Palestine

Simply Earth - DIY stuff like purfumes

Swanson's Fabrics - digital/in person thrift store for yarns and fabrics

Sunburst Trading - Sterling Silver Gemstone Jewelry, Crystals, Authentic Fossils & More, formerly cystal cavern imports

Urial Magic - forest whimsical leather bags

(not all are women owned but many are)

[danime25]

Masterlist

From now on this is where I'll link my fics. If you find something on my ao3 that you want on here, just lmk.

RYGOS CHARACTERS

Ken:

Ken Seeking Barbie: ao3- Ken x Reader- +18

He's just Ken. Looking for his Barbie out there in the real world. Who knew you could find someone on Craigslist? Ken certainly didn't.

Whatta Man: ao3- Ken x Reader- +18

After a year together, Ken has been living happily with his Barbie girl, and nothing was going to change that for Ken.

I'm Just Ken (And That's More Than Enough): ao3- Ken x Reader- +18

Ken had it all. A long term long distance low commitment girlfriend that he adored, and now he was about to be the breadwinner with a degree in his hands!

Cherry Pie: ao3- Ken x Reader- +18

As punishment for Patriarchy©, President Barbie had given him a choice. Either he had to reap what he had sown and become a subservient little thing or leave Barbieland forever.

Sierra Six:

Someone To Watch Over Me: ao3- Sierra Six x Reader- +18

Six had done everything right up until this point. Everything he did was in Claire's best interest. Who would have thought that he'd risk it all for a barista?

You Had Me At Soup: ao3- Sierra Six x Reader- T for Teen

While in the Sierra program, Six never got sick. Now that he was adapting to civilian life with Claire and the woman he roped in to play Claire's mom, he seemed to be down with a bug of some kind.

Holland March:

Sweater: ao3- Holland March x Reader- +18

Holland wanted to spend a night out with his girl. She had other plans.

Break Your Dad's Back: ao3- Holland March x Reader- +18

Chiropractors were becoming the hot thing for the stars in Los Angeles. Not that he was a star. After hearing from Janet about the miracle that was chiropractors, Holland March just had to try it out for himself.

Give Me The Night: ao3- Holland March x Jackson Healy- +18. COLLAB WITH @drivinmeinsane

Like most jobs involving stakeouts, the night is going by slowly. That all takes a turn, however, when March finally pushes his fellow detective too far.

Don't Go Breaking My Heart: ao3- Holland March x Jackson Healy- 18+ COLLAB WITH @drivinmeinsane

Even during the most wonderful time of the year, Holland March can't help but be clumsy. A stressful hospital trip to set the detective's re-fractured arm leads an unfortunate revelation about his relationship with Jackson Healy. Part two of the Butterfly Effect Series. (Can be read as a standalone)

Richard Haywood:

Want You To Want Me: ao3- Richard Haywood x Justin Pendleton- M for Mature

Richard was tired of the girls. Girls at school looking at him, asking for his number at lunch... not when he had his eyes set on only one person. And he only wanted the other's eyes on him too.

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ANGUS SAMPSON CHARACTERS

RAY JENKINS:

Ain't That A Kick: ao3- Ray Jenkins x F!Reader- +18

Gavin plays a trick on Ray one night after drinks. Ray gets a little bit more than he bargained for.

ORGANIC MECHANIC:

Something So Right: ao3- The Organic Mechanic x F!Reader +18

Both of them knew that their love wasn't allowed, but that didn't stop them.