Moving In - Tumblr Posts

College Packing Tips from a College Student

So I know COVID has prevented A Lot of us from going to college, or we just chose to not attend college. And that’s fine!!! You do you boo!!! In case you are, in fact, going to college this year and happen to be moving into a dorm (this also applies to moving into a new apartment) here are some tips for packing (and what to pack) when moving in. 

- pack a small bag for stuff you’ll need when you immediately arrive. This means disinfectant wipes, a mop/broom, paper towels, and command hooks if you happen to be needing them (you will, idc what you think, you will need them)

- bring command hooks!!!!! a lot of college dorm don’t allow nails in the walls for hanging things. I can already hear people saying they don’t need to be hanging any decorations and ooooohhhh boy you are in for a treat. Winter gear???? You want your coat on a heap on the floor???? towel???? you want the thing you dry your beautiful body with on the dirty ass floor????? bring command hooks coward

- wash your dishes before you get there. I know this isn’t possible in every situation, but if you can, wash your dishes/travel mugs/tupperware before you move in. one less thing you have to do 

- speaking of which, you will never have enough tupperware. you think I’m kidding??? I’m not. you bring that shit everywhERE you go, and you smuggle as much food as you can because your ass is paying for that, and by god, you will get your money’s worth

- communicate 👏 with 👏your 👏roommate(s) 👏 and this applies to apartments too. who’s bringing the mini-fridge?? who’s got the microwave??? are you having those in your dorm?? do they go to bed before or after 11pm??? comm👏un👏i👏cate

- bring,,,and extra,,,,,set,,,,of,,,,everything. towels, sheets, pillows, do it. yes it means a little more room in your bags, but pleaaaaseeee do it

- you will never have enough kitchen towels. I mean it. you will use those little shits for everything. wiping down a spilled drink, dusting, oven mitts, everything. I used them to wrap breakable things in my other bags

- I can’t believe I have to say this, but bring,,, shower,,,,shoes. If you are in a communal bathroom, there are probably dozens of college students using that same bathroom,,,,do you want foot fungus???? I didn’t think so

- door stop!!! sometimes dorm rooms don’t have these, always a good idea

- if you live in the north like me, and winter is a thing that happens for 6 months, think about bringing a shoe mat/tray for your boots. Doesn’t have to be a big one, but those boots are gonna be tracking in so much salt and snow and dirt, you want to put them somewhere

That’s everything I can think of off the top of my head, but please please please feel free to add more!!! stay safe!!!!! bring masks!!!!!! 

Punk Harry Series Part Fifteen 

Part Fourteen

Masterlist

Moving In: “Are you like totally sure this is cool?” You could t help but ask again. Harry tolled his eyes and he set the third box of what you knew was probably makeup into his trunk. “You ask me that again and my answer will change.” He joked and I smiled before stepping forward and smoothing my hand onto his back, rubbing the surface of his grey cotton t-shirt. “Listen, I want to move in with you, seriously nothing would make me happier. I just really want to make sure that you feel the same because you know I was the one who suggested it and I don’t want to you to just be agreeing with me. I want you to want this just as much as I do. And I really don’t want to push you into moving into a space of our relationship that you’re uncomfortable with.” I explained and he sighed before turning to tug me into his arms. “Love, I don’t think I ever feel better than when I wake up next to you, or make breakfast with you, or see your toothbrush next to mine. I want that everyday, I love being domestic with you so stop fuckin questioning my love for you.” He said, starting to joke around towards the end and I smiled and leaned up to kiss his chin. “All right then let’s go get more of my shit.” I said before starting for the stairs again and he sighed. “Okay but like how much stuff do you have?” He asked and I laughed. ~ You sighed and you tried to jam another pair of leggings into the dresser draw. This whole sharing a dresser thing definitely started out as a great idea but is quickly dwindling as you’re realizing you both just have too much shit. “Harry, honey, you know you can probably hang your jeans and sweat shirts right?” You asked and you emptied and entire draw of said items onto the bed. You had noticed all of this as you were looking for alternative ways to store your clothes. “Yeah, but I could also put them in the dresser.” He said poking his head into the room from the walk-in closet. “Ok sure, but I actually have way to many clothes that can’t be hung so you’re actually gonna have to hang them from now on.” You said and he nodded coming over to scoop them up from the bed. “So what’s going in the dresser. Give me the layout.” He said, his back facing you as he walked into what was now both of your closet. You liked that. “Uh, so left is your side, right is mine. Top left drawer is the only exception, has both your underwear and socks plus my socks. Top right has my bras and underwear. Then middle is shirts and bottom is pants.” You said and you heard a “mmm-hmmm” in approval.  “Need any help in the closet?” You called and he replied with a quick no. “Alright then I’ll get started on dinner k?” You called as you started to walk out of the room. “Sounds good babe!” You heard him call back and I smiled as you walked down the stairs to the kitchen. You really enjoyed being domestic with Harry so far.

Word Count: 553

Under His Nose

It’s a completely normal day when Tim finally realized it. He had woken up like normal, brushed his teeth and got dressed. He drank the coffee that Stephanie made for him and listens to her endearing reminders to remember to lift his head up and remember to eat.

She’s out the door and he feels strangely lonely. His coffee no longer holds any appeal for him. He’s bored beyond belief without her.

Sighing, he pushes away from his table and starts to walk out and–

Wait.

He blinks.

One.

Two.

Three.

Since when did Tim own a waffle iron? Especially a purple one that still has a scratch on it from when Stephanie hit a burglar with it?

Tim looked around his kitchen, and notes with horror that he does not remember owning over half of the kitchen appliances in there. In fact, at least half of his kitchen is now purple.

Eggplant, his mind supplies helpfully.

In fact, Tim distantly remembers Stephanie doing her homework on the counter while eating cookies.

He blinks again.

Did Steph move in to the second greatest detective’s home right under his nose?

He cursed.

No. Freaking. Way.

Except, that’s the only way to explain the second toothbrush and cup in his bathroom. That’s the only way to explain the worn cartoon towels that have entered in towel closet, a contrast from the plain white towels he favors. That’s the only way to explain how a frozen waffles and popsicles have entered his fridge. That’s the only way to explain why only half the stuff in his closet is his own because he doesn’t remember owning dresses or shoes or–

Oh wait.

Yeah, thats the dress that Dick accidentally bought for him, his mind only registering on the robin red part and not the floor length gown part. And those are the heels that Cass had left in his house after a party and never came to retrieve them. And those are the necklaces his mother once owned.

Phew. Okay. So she hasn’t completely moved it in while he was unaware.

Except.

Tim has more than one closet.

Resisting the urge to hit his head on the door, Tim opens up the door to what’s supposed to be his closet. He’s resigned, he already knows what he’s going to see and yep. There it is.

There’s the tattered red hoodie she could never bear to part with. There’s the black leggings she always wears because they’re comfortable. There’s the purple dress she wore when they saved Leslie. There’s the row of heels and sneakers and flats all lined up. There’s the diamond necklace he got her on a trip to France.

Tim has no idea how he did not notice Steph move in. Some detective he was.

He resolves to immediately speak with her about her living arrangements because under no circumstances was she to move in without his permission-

There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he remembers that oh right they share a bed.

And the suddenly Steph’s home and he automatically walks over to greet her and she beams at him and he wraps his arm around her shoulder.

For a minute he wonders when this has become what’s familiar to him.

Then Steph leans up and he leans down and all his former thoughts drift away…

His eyes fly open.

Is that a hamster he sees in the corner of his living room?

She's tired but she's also scared. Behind her, the bathtub faucet drips into the basin she just stepped out of. The sound seems to echo in the humid room. For a long moment she disassociates, walls blurring and audio distorting save for that repetitive drip...drip...drip...

The towel she's wrapped around herself has a slight odor of mildew. It makes her nose crinkle in distaste but the fabric itself is dry and that's all that matters.

She blinks herself back to the present, back to her current surroundings. She may be alone right now but that doesn't mean she can let her guard down. That was made obvious when one of the men - the lanky one she'd flirted with - came pounding on the door as she'd been undressing to shower.

He hadn't actually opened the door, of course. She'd locked it upon entry though no doubt he could have forced his way inside had he truly wanted to. And that's the thing. No matter where she was, there was a risk of someone barging in. Of someone forcing themselves on her.

She'd managed to escape that fate countless times now. Too many times. Blood on her knuckles, clothes in disarray, eyes wide with unfettered terror. She'd fought like a wild thing, like a creature possessed. She'd left her mark on the ones that survived. The ones who hadn't? They'd earned their graves.

With effort, she manages to project an air of calm and arms herself with an aura of self-assurance as she at last exits the bathroom. The little laundry space is empty of life but the lanky bounty hunter shoots to his feet from the couch when she reaches the short staircase leading to the living room proper.

"About damn time! Other people need to get clean too ya know!" He snarls with all the petulance of a teenager as he pushes past her.

Faye gives a disdainful sniff at his attitude. "I left hot water." She snaps, though he'll be lucky if there's more than a few drops.

She can hear the other man puttering about in the kitchen space that lays down the hallway from the main living area and she decides to make the most of their preoccupation.

There is a narrow room with a shelf of plants. A workshop opens off the flight deck. There is a deep hangar where all three of their zipcraft are currently housed. Several rooms that seem stuffed with debris that she ignores for now, leaving the lights off rather than investigating for any objects of value. A room that is locked, presumably a bedroom. A room that is unlocked, with a messy bed and empty cartons of cigarettes littering the floor. It could be either of theirs but the stale odor that hovers in the air seems reminiscent of the lanky one.

She discovers an access point into an overhead storage area. It's more barren than any of the others she's found yet and it is extremely awkward to reach given that the only entrance is a hatch in the floor of the storage space itself. This will do.

With a quickness borne of necessity, she manages to shove the thin mattress from the unlocked bedroom up into the space she has found. There's a flattish space where she can rest the mattress but for now she arranges it over the hatch after she pulls it shut.

No one can shove their way into the alcove she has claimed, not with the mattress covering the only entry point. She sprawls out on top of the mattress with a ratty blanket for cover and heaves a sigh of satisfaction and exhaustion.

She's clean. A wonderful feeling.

She's alone. At peace with this solitude.

Above all, she is safe. It may not last longer than this one night, but it's not like she's ever guaranteed a reprieve for more than a few hours. She'll make the most of this for as long as she can. Drain them dry, maybe rob the place blind. But first... Sleep.