I Really Like The Idea Of Vamp!Eddie ◝(*'◡'*)◜

Yes, this is exactly what it looks like. (there are also a bunch of euro trash songs on there oops) these are just a bunch of songs i think kurt might also like ( ᵕᴗᵕ )✩

My personal fave on there: Fahradsattel (ofc)

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I think that destroying all van Gogh paintings and other things that rich people value would be a great act.

Persecution (Roy!Sibling x Roman Roy)

Character/s: Roman, Jeryd, Kendall, Shiv

Word Count: 1,465

Requested: Hihihi!!! Would it be okay to request? Or maybe just as inspiration or something: i'd love to see the dynamic between roy!siblingreader and roman and how he would interact with them trying/being the big brother to them like connor and kendall are especially takeing care of them or being protective? I have severe roman brainrot rn lol and i love how you write each of them and overall the way you use words and how alive it all feels! ♡- anon

Inspired By: Family Jewels by Marina

Warning/s: sexual harassment, harassment, men being creeps

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: You know I had to do it!!! You know I had to!!! I can't actually remember all of the election party episode, so this might be a bit off. My apologies!!! Stop my love, Roman makes my brain rot too he lives in there 24/7!!! Thank you for such kind words!!! I try my best :) I hope you like it!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

His hand lingers on the small of your back, on your shoulder, on your body. It burns all the way through. You don’t shake it off though. You can’t. So you smile and excuse yourself, trying to stop yourself from shuddering. It seems wherever you go, wherever you disappear, he is there. He is always there. If not in your presence, then calling, texting, emailing. He is obsessive, hungry, and you have been served to him on a silver platter whether they realize it or not. You sit alone on the couch, nursing your drink, your fourth or fifth of the night just to get through it. His knee touches you, his arm is around you. No one takes notice, not your brothers or sister. No one can save you. He speaks, but only to get closer, so close you can smell the scotch on his breath. He talks mindlessly of his campaign, of the work he and your brother have put into it. That is why you can’t resist. That is why you can’t push him away, throw your drink in his face, call him names that sit on the tip of your tongue. Because your brother has spent too much time building this relationship up, building this man up. You’ve told him time and time again that you don’t like him, that you side with your sister on this, but he doesn’t care. He is not your President yet, though God help you if he becomes him. You won’t be able to escape him. You won’t be able to run. 

His hand is on your thigh, inching down. As if his touch is fire you jump up, dropping your glass, spilling all over him, all over Shiv's carpet. Fuck, you think, fuck, fuck fuck. You apologize profusely despite yourself, picking up the shards. They glitter under the light. The mumble of the crowd never stops, there isn’t a single pause in conversation. You are the baby, the least significant one. These politicians, their groups, they don’t see you. They don’t notice you. No one is coming to help you. He doesn’t seem to notice your distress, instead leaning down, face to face with you, watching you avoid his eyes. He rubs your shoulder, explaining that it was an accident, no big deal. With his finger he tips your head up, smile for me, sweetie. You recoil, apologizing, taking what pieces you have, headed towards the kitchen. You’re unsteady on your feet, too tipsy. You drank too much. You curse yourself, trying not to let the tears that welled up in your eyes fall. You weren’t even supposed to be here. You were supposed to be home, safe, far away from him where he could not possibly reach you. But they wanted you here, they needed you here, the biggest night leading up to the election. You could never disappoint them. Never. So you showed up and you drank and now you’re in this mess. You can feel him behind you, like a shadow, close but not close enough. You catch one look behind you, biting back a scream. He shakes hands, introduces himself, cracks jokes, all while moving through the crowd. You are his target, you always have been. 

From the moment he laid eyes on you, you knew it was over. Too late. You were drowning and they were doing nothing to save you. He spoke to you like you were old friends, touchy from your moment of introduction. Y/n Roy, a pleasure to meet you. A kiss on the cheek. His arm snaking around your waist for the family photo. Pleading with your eyes, but no one to see, no one to understand. Your father was more than happy to serve you to him, proud you’d made a connection so quickly. Oblivious to your disgust, to your discomfort, as always. Still, he hadn’t been that proud of you in a long time, perhaps ever. You thought you could keep up the niceties until he lost, then you would rid yourself of him for good. And then your father died. And then Roman made his deal with him. And now? Now you’re leaning over the sink, trying not to throw up, your hands shaking at the thought of him being near you like that again. He got caught in conversation with a lesser political opponent, his eyes never leaving you. Someone had given him your contact information. First an email here and there. A thank you for being so kind to him. A proposition for coffee, then drink. Texts next. Jokes that fell flat. Apologies for your father. More dates, more events, all of them, he’s hoping, you’ll be there. Calls, too. Pictures. So many pictures. Silly ones, then not so funny. If he wasn’t constantly watching, talking, touching, then he was trying to. You never responded, but that didn’t stop him. It would never stop him. 

What were you going to do? 

You clutch the edge of the sink, taking a few deep breaths. As quickly as you can without making yourself even more nauseous, you cut through the pack, headed towards the bathroom. Without meaning to, your barge through your siblings semi-circle conversation. The tears are falling. All of them look up at you, startled, but you slam the door shut before they can ask anything. Shiv knocks softly, saying your name, trying to get you out. Y/n? Y/n what happened? Can you come out and talk to us? Knees to chest you slide down to the floor, drunk, tired, your skin still crawling. Trying to catch your breath. Y/n, come on, come out. Whatever happened, we can fix it. Kendall sounded exhausted. Rightfully so. You stifle a sob, the words coming out before you can stop them. I didn’t mean- I didn’t- I know this is important to you guys. Mencken. He’s important to them, he’s important to your brother, he was to your father. You couldn’t just suck it up for a little while, you had to cry like a child. Who? What are you talking about? It’s Roman now, his voice close to you. He’s not standing like the others, he’s on your level now. You don’t know how to explain it, you can’t. You fear it’ll sound ridiculous. That you’re making a bigger deal about this than necessary. You’re not sure what else to do. You open every tab, every phone call and text thread and email. Then you open the door just a crack, sliding the phone through, shutting it again. There's a moment of silence that feels like eternity. How long has been this going on? Roman sounds angry. At you? A while. It’s all you can manage, curling into a ball, bracing for the worst. For the yelling, the disappointment, for one of them to bang on the door and demand that you come out right now. You wait, and you wait, but it never comes. It never happens. Instead your brother and sister call after Roman, trying to stop him, but he’s seeing red. 

There’s no stopping him. 

It’s quiet for a long time, but you don’t move a muscle. Your nausea has gotten a little better, your head a little clearer. You call for your siblings, but none answer. What were they doing? What were they saying? You can hear muffled yelling through the door, but the words melt together. Tones rise in pitch. The apartment has quieted. Someone laughs, you think it’s Mencken. More quiet. A door slams. You wince. This is all your fault. Whatever they were doing, whatever was going on, it was your fault. It was all your fault. Then a voice, softer now. He’s gone, kid. You can come out. Roman. He didn’t sound angry, but when did that ever stop anyone? Certainly not your father. When you don’t, you hear him groan, getting to the floor. Through the door, you can hear the weight in his voice. I’m not mad at you, I, I could never be mad at you. A pause. You honestly think I would have chosen him over you? You nod before choking up a yes. It’s my fault, you start, but he doesn’t let you finish. It’s not, it never was. He’s a fucking creep y/n, a monster. I’m, I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner. He's gone now. He won’t come near you ever again. He’s never been so sure of anything in his life. He would never let fucking Mencken do that to you again. He wouldn’t let anyone do that. He shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place, he’d carry this for the rest of his life. He let you down, your big brother. He let you down for the last time.

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Petals (Roy!Sibling x Connor Roy)

Character/s: Connor, Shiv, Roman, Logan, Willa, Marcia

Word Count: 1,315

Requested: hello! is it okay if i request more roy baby sibling and connor? i’d like to see them asking connor to dance at shiv’s wedding (or maybe even at his wedding?)! thank you :) - anon

Requested: your younger roy sibling hcs have been rotting my brain recently and now im imagining 8 year old them making a drawing for connor's birthday that is them holding hands with big hearts and "wish you were my daddy" written in big kid letters (probably with spelling mistakes) and connor just like. sobbing when he reads it. i feel like hed be such a big father role to a significantly younger sibling (i personally imagine them and roman having a around 10 year gap, so thats probably like ~35 years of different between them and connor). and we all know what a shitty dad logan is/was, so i can see younger sibling calling connor after some big fight with logan and crying while begging him to pick them up and let them live with him and it breaks his heart cause logan would never let it happen and he tried but couldnt protect ken and shiv and rome and he just wishes he could at least protect his baby sib but he just cant and it kills him. anyway happy thursday thought haha roy family brainrot - @fromirkwood

Inspired By: Petals on the Moon by Wasia Project

Tag: @locke-writes

A/N: I know the second one wasn't exactly a request, but I couldn't get it out of my head!!! Big Bro Connor is my absolute favorite!! I hope this doesn't rot in your brain too long my love lol. I just couldn't get it out of my head, especially when it was combined with the other request!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Time is a thief, at least that’s what he thinks when he looks at you, spinning with your sister on the dance floor. Your smile is so bright, so wide, your cheeks flushed. You drank too much, no doubt it was Roman refilling your glass without your notice. The song picks up speed, picks up in joy, and you break out into laughter, you and Shivy. It’s as if you’re in your own world and only she’s in it. You spin and jump and sing along, your niece and nephew beside you and the bride. He hasn’t seen you this electric, this alive, so much like your old self, in weeks. Connor considered himself lucky to be able to watch, to bear witness. Just moments ago you were a baby, doodling with your thick crayons, mistakenly calling him Dad instead of Logan. Only recently had he learned that's who he was in your phone, Dad, that Logan was simply Logan. Years pass, but so little changes. He still had all your fathers day cards stashed away, hidden before your real father caught what you were doing. Stick figures, one tall, one small, hand in hand surrounded by flowers and butterflies and other bugs. Happy Fathers Day Connor. Your uppercase letters always slanted, crooked, his name spelled with one N instead of two. It wasn’t long until his figure started sprouting gray hair, graying far earlier than anyone else in the family, and yours grew taller every year. Connor feared you might have forgotten about him, that you were getting too old to need your eldest brother like your siblings had, but you proved him wrong after that night. 

You hadn’t even wanted to go to the wedding. It was so bad. Whatever was said and done remained a mystery. You wouldn’t tell him, tell anyone, just that it was bad. He’d gone with Willa to pick something out for you, knowing you left the house with nothing. You refused to try it on, to come out of the spare bedroom. It wasn’t until the day before when they were getting ready to leave, accepting that there was no way you were going, did you come out with your outfit packed. You weren’t going to miss Shiv's big day because of him, you declared, and it was settled. He couldn’t contain his excitement, grinning from ear to ear. Letting her down, letting him down, just because of your old man, it seemed like a cruel punishment. You sat beside him in the plane, his hand on your knee, trying to disregard the dread in your chest. They’d all heard about your big blow out, they all wanted to know, going to Connor first instead of you. You were the closest, you told him everything. When he had nothing to say, when all he could offer was a warning, it said something, something more than he was expecting: whatever happened got to you. It genuinely hurt you. They imagined the worst, unsure of what to do. He was at a loss, too. Your father could say and do as he pleased, you’d always been the best at ignoring him, especially when he was in one of his moods, but this time? This time was different. It stung more than all of the other fights you’d had with him, and there were some memorable ones. Never had you yelled back like that, never had you stormed out in a fury, never had you sobbed to your brother like that on the phone. This wasn’t the kind of thing that would go away on its own. It wouldn’t heal with time. 

He could almost forget the crack in your voice as he watched you now. That sad, crying child looked so different from the young adult on the dance floor. Eventually you came over to him, asking him to dance. As if on cue, a slower song came on. This was far different than the last time you danced together. You stood on his shoes, swaying, giggling that high pitched giggle, the one that made his heart melt. You were so little then, so tiny, he was scared to let go. Now you swayed on your own, your arms around him as if you’re scared he’ll flee, your face buried into his chest. Thank you for letting me stay with you. It came out mumbled, muffled, but he understood. Anytime, kiddo. You’re a pleasure to have. Your eyes were big when you looked up at him, as if trying to decipher if he was telling the truth or not. His smile, so reassuring, told you he meant it. I’m sorry about Pops. you shook your head, not wanting to hear his name, not wanting your brother to carry the guilt for him. If he was going to apologize you were going to hear it from him. Not anyone else. Connor spent the entire night putting distance between the two of you, becoming your human shield. Logan, it seemed, had completely forgotten about the whole ordeal, kissing Shiv, saying hello to your brothers, like nothing was amiss. They each shared a glance, all looking to Connor for help, for guidance, just like they had when they were little. He knew what he had to do. How bad was it, kiddo? He asks. Bad. It’s all you can say without upsetting yourself all over again. 

He called you his greatest failure. Spineless. A mistake. You don’t remember how it started, only that you were bleeding out on the floor before him and he refused to put the knife down. A plague to the Roy name, a curse, a bad seed. You never should have been born. A loser. Incompetent. He’s not sure where you came from, but you are certainly not his. You should be smarter, work harder, but instead you are nothing, you are nobody. No one has ever or will ever love you. It hits you so hard, so forcefully, it knocks the wind out of you. He means it, he means every word, but especially that. That’s what kills you, that’s what makes the tears slip down your cheeks. That’s not true, you try to spit back, but he’s not listening and you’re crying, and you’re proving him right. He keeps talking. You can’t hear it, though. You’re gone. You’ve retreated into yourself, so far back he cannot possibly get you. You stand there, unmoving, as he gets in your face. No one has or will ever love you. No one has or will ever love you. It plays on loop, again and again until you cannot breathe. Finally you back away, you run from him, slamming each door behind you. Marcia calls out to you, hearing what went down, but nothing can stop you. Through the busy sidewalks, sobbing uncontrollably, you call him. You can’t repeat what he said, you still can’t. You know that would make him furious, all of them, and it is not their burden to carry. A quiet fear has settled in the back of your mind: what if he’s right? 

If he knew, if Connor knew, he would have killed his father. No one said that to his baby, no one ever dared talk to you that way. But he doesn’t, and he never will. You have vowed to yourself that neither him nor your other siblings will know, for fear that they might agree with him. That they’ll show you he’s right. Instead they watch you carefully, ready to intervene should that be necessary. You hold on to him tight long after the song ends, not wanting to let go, to be alone with Logan's words. Connor doesn’t mind at all. He’s his happiest when his siblings need him, when you need him. He’ll always be there to rescue you. Always. It’s his job, you’re his greatest love. You all are.

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I want to live by myself when I move out of my parent's place but I'm really afraid of money problems? I'm afraid that the only place I can afford will be in the ghetto and it'll all be torn apart and I'll only be allowed to eat one granola bar a week. I'm really stressing out about this. I don't know anything about after school life. I don't know anything about paying bills or how to buy an apartment and it's really scaring me. is there anything you know that can help me?

HI darling,

I’ve actually got a super wonderful masterpost for you to check out:

Home

what the hell is a mortgage?

first apartment essentials checklist

how to care for cacti and succulents

the care and keeping of plants

Getting an apartment

Money

earn rewards by taking polls

how to coupon

what to do when you can’t pay your bills

see if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill

how to save money

How to Balance a Check Book

How to do Your Own Taxes

Health

how to take care of yourself when you’re sick

things to bring to a doctor’s appointment

how to get free therapy

what to expect from your first gynecologist appointment

how to make a doctor’s appointment

how to pick a health insurance plan

how to avoid a hangover

a list of stress relievers

how to remove a splinter

Emergency

what to do if you get pulled over by a cop

a list of hotlines in a crisis

things to keep in your car in case of an emergency

how to do the heimlich maneuver

Job

time management

create a resume

find the right career

how to pick a major

how to avoid a hangover

how to interview for a job

how to stop procrastinating

How to write cover letters

Travel

ULTIMATE PACKING LIST

Traveling for Cheap

Travel Accessories

The Best Way to Pack a Suitcase

How To Read A Map

How to Apply For A Passport

How to Make A Travel Budget

Better You

read the news

leave your childhood traumas behind

how to quit smoking

how to knit

how to stop biting your nails

how to stop procrastinating

how to stop skipping breakfast

how to stop micromanaging

how to stop avoiding asking for help

how to stop swearing constantly

how to stop being a pushover

learn another language

how to improve your self-esteem

how to sew

learn how to embroider

how to love yourself

100 tips for life

Apartments/Houses/Moving

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 1: Are You Sure? (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 2: Finding the Damn Apartment (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 3: Questions to Ask about the Damn Apartment (The Responsible One)

Moving Out and Getting an Apartment, Part 4: Packing and Moving All of Your Shit (The Responsible One)

How to Protect Your Home Against Break-Ins (The Responsible One)

Education

How to Find a Fucking College (The Sudden Adult)

How to Find Some Fucking Money for College (The Sudden Adult)

What to Do When You Can’t Afford Your #1 Post-Secondary School (The Sudden Adult)

Stop Shitting on Community College Kids (Why Community College is Fucking Awesome) (The Responsible One)

How to Ask for a Recommendation Letter (The Responsible One)

How to Choose a College Major (The Sudden Adult)

Finances

How to Write a Goddamn Check (The Responsible One)

How to Convince Credit Companies You’re Not a Worthless Bag of Shit (The Responsible One)

Debit vs Credit (The Responsible One)

What to Do if Your Wallet is Stolen/Lost (The Sudden Adult)

Budgeting 101 (The Responsible One)

Important Tax Links to Know (The Responsible One)

How to Choose a Bank Without Screwing Yourself (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting

How to Write a Resume Like a Boss (The Responsible One)

How to Write a Cover Letter Someone Will Actually Read (The Responsible One)

How to Handle a Phone Interview without Fucking Up (The Responsible One)

10 Sites to Start Your Job Search (The Responsible One)

Life Skills

Staying in Touch with Friends/Family (The Sudden Adult)

Bar Etiquette (The Sudden Adult)

What to Do After a Car Accident (The Sudden Adult)

Grow Up and Buy Your Own Groceries (The Responsible One)

How to Survive Plane Trips (The Sudden Adult)

How to Make a List of Goals (The Responsible One)

How to Stop Whining and Make a Damn Appointment (The Responsible One)

Miscellaneous

What to Expect from the Hell that is Jury Duty (The Responsible One)

Relationships

Marriage: What the Fuck Does It Mean and How the Hell Do I Know When I’m Ready? (Guest post - The Northwest Adult)

How Fucked Are You for Moving In with Your Significant Other: An Interview with an Actual Real-Life Couple Living Together™ (mintypineapple  and catastrofries)

Travel & Vehicles

How to Winterize Your Piece of Shit Vehicle (The Responsible One)

How to Make Public Transportation Your Bitch (The Responsible One)

Other Blog Features

Apps for Asshats

Harsh Truths & Bitter Reminders

Asks I’ll Probably Need to Refer People to Later

Apartments (or Life Skills) - How Not to Live in Filth (The Sudden Adult)

Finances - Tax Basics (The Responsible One)

Important Documents - How to Get a Copy of Your Birth Certificate (The Responsible One)

Important Documents - How to Get a Replacement ID (The Responsible One)

Health - How to Deal with a Chemical Burn (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting - List of Jobs Based on Social Interaction Levels (The Sudden Adult)

Job Hunting - How to Avoid Falling into a Pit of Despair While Job Hunting (The Responsible One)

Job Hunting - Questions to Ask in an Interview (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - First-Time Flying Tips (The Sudden Adult)

Life Skills - How to Ask a Good Question (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - Reasons to Take a Foreign Language (The Responsible One)

Life Skills - Opening a Bar Tab (The Sudden Adult)

Relationships - Long Distance Relationships: How to Stay in Contact (The Responsible One)

Adult Cheat Sheet:

what to do if your pet gets lost

removing stains from your carpet

how to know if you’re eligible for food stamps

throwing a dinner party

i’m pregnant, now what?

first aid tools to keep in your house

how to keep a clean kitchen

learning how to become independent from your parents

job interview tips

opening your first bank account

what to do if you lose your wallet

tips for cheap furniture

easy ways to cut your spending

selecting the right tires for your car

taking out your first loan

picking out the right credit card

how to get out of parking tickets

how to fix a leaky faucet

get all of your news in one place

getting rid of mice & rats in your house

when to go to the e.r.

buying your first home

how to buy your first stocks

guide to brewing coffee

first apartment essentials checklist

coping with a job you hate

30 books to read before you’re 30

what’s the deal with retirement?

difference between insurances

Once you’ve looked over all those cool links, I have some general advice for you on how you can have some sort of support system going for you:

Reasons to move out of home

You may decide to leave home for many different reasons, including:

wishing to live independently

location difficulties – for example, the need to move closer to university

conflict with your parents

being asked to leave by your parents.

Issues to consider when moving out of home

It’s common to be a little unsure when you make a decision like leaving home. You may choose to move, but find that you face problems you didn’t anticipate, such as:

Unreadiness – you may find you are not quite ready to handle all the responsibilities.

Money worries – bills including rent, utilities like gas and electricity and the cost of groceries may catch you by surprise, especially if you are used to your parents providing for everything. Debt may become an issue.

Flatmate problems – issues such as paying bills on time, sharing housework equally, friends who never pay board, but stay anyway, and lifestyle incompatibilities (such as a non-drug-user flatting with a drug user) may result in hostilities and arguments.

Your parents may be worried

Think about how your parents may be feeling and talk with them if they are worried about you. Most parents want their children to be happy and independent, but they might be concerned about a lot of different things. For example:

They may worry that you are not ready.

They may be sad because they will miss you.

They may think you shouldn’t leave home until you are married or have bought a house.

They may be concerned about the people you have chosen to live with.

Reassure your parents that you will keep in touch and visit regularly. Try to leave on a positive note. Hopefully, they are happy about your plans and support your decision.

Tips for a successful move

Tips include:

Don’t make a rash decision – consider the situation carefully. Are you ready to live independently? Do you make enough money to support yourself? Are you moving out for the right reasons?

Draw up a realistic budget – don’t forget to include ‘hidden’ expenses such as the property’s security deposit or bond (usually four weeks’ rent), connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.

Communicate – avoid misunderstandings, hostilities and arguments by talking openly and respectfully about your concerns with flatmates and parents. Make sure you’re open to their point of view too – getting along is a two-way street.

Keep in touch – talk to your parents about regular home visits: for example, having Sunday night dinner together every week.

Work out acceptable behaviour – if your parents don’t like your flatmate(s), find out why. It is usually the behaviour rather than the person that causes offence (for example, swearing or smoking). Out of respect for your parents, ask your flatmate(s) to be on their best behaviour when your parents visit and do the same for them.

Ask for help – if things are becoming difficult, don’t be too proud to ask your parents for help. They have a lot of life experience.

If your family home does not provide support

Not everyone who leaves home can return home or ask their parents for help in times of trouble. If you have been thrown out of home or left home to escape abuse or conflict, you may be too young or unprepared to cope.

If you are a fostered child, you will have to leave the state-care system when you turn 18, but you may not be ready to make the sudden transition to independence.

If you need support, help is available from a range of community and government organisations. Assistance includes emergency accommodation and food vouchers. If you can’t call your parents or foster parents, call one of the associations below for information, advice and assistance.

Where to get help

Your doctor

Kids Helpline Tel. 1800 55 1800

Lifeline Tel. 13 11 44

Home Ground Services Tel. 1800 048 325

Relationships Australia Tel. 1300 364 277

Centrelink Crisis or Special Help Tel. 13 28 50

Tenants Union of Victoria Tel. (03) 9416 2577

Things to remember

Try to solve any problems before you leave home. Don’t leave because of a fight or other family difficulty if you can possibly avoid it.

Draw up a realistic budget that includes ‘hidden’ expenses, such as bond, connection fees for utilities, and home and contents insurance.

Remember that you can get help from a range of community and government organizations. 

(source)

Keep me updated? xx

dealing with the worst case scenario

your condom breaks

you feel a lump on your breast

your friends are ignoring you

you’re stranded on an island 

you got rejected by a crush

you get into a car accident

you got stung by a bee/wasp

you got fired from your job

you’re in an earthquake

your tattoo gets infected

your house is on fire

you’re lost in the woods

you get arrested abroad

you get robbed

your partner cheated on you

you’re on a ship that’s sinking

you fall into ice

you’re stuck in an elevator

you hit a deer with your car

you have food poisoning

your pet passed away

you fall off of a horse

you or your friend has alcohol poisoning

you have toxic shock syndrome

your house has a gas leak

Just a bunch of useful websites

12ft – Hate paywalls? Try this site out.

My Fridge Food – No idea what to make? Tell this site what ingredients you have on hand and it will give you recipes to cook.

Project Gutenberg – Always ends up on these type of lists and for very good reason. All works that are copyright free in one place.

Ninite – New PC? Install all of your programs in one go with no bloat or unnecessary crap.

Unchecky – Tired of software trying to install additional unwanted programs? This will stop it completely by unchecking the necessary boxes when you install.

Sci-Hub – Research papers galore! Check here before shelling out money. And if it’s not here, try the next link in our list.

LibGen – Lots of free PDFs relate primarily to the sciences.

Zotero – A free and easy to use program to collect, organize, cite and share research.

Car Complaints – Buying a used car? Check out what other owners of the same model have to say about it first.

CamelCamelCamel – Check the historical prices of items on Amazon and set alerts for when prices drop.

Have I Been Pawned – Still the king when it comes to checking if your online accounts have been released in a data breach. Also able to sign up for email alerts if you’ve ever a victim of a breach.

Radio Garden – Think Google Earth but wherever you zoom, you get the radio station of that place.

Just The Recipe – Paste in the url and get just the recipe as a result. No life story or adverts.

Tineye – An Amazing reverse image search tool.

My 90s TV – Simulates 90’s TV using YouTube videos. Also has My80sTV, My70sTV, My60sTV and for the younger ones out there, My00sTV. Lose yourself in nostalgia.

Foto Forensics – Free image analysis tools.

Old Games Download – A repository of games from the 90’s and early 2000’s. Get your fix of nostalgia here.

Online OCR – Convert pictures of text into actual text and output it in the format you need.

Remove Background – An amazingly quick and accurate way to remove backgrounds from your pictures.

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Forvo – Alternatively, if you need to hear a local speaking a word, this is the site for you.

CIGARETTES & DIOR 𝙸𝙸𝙸

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beta read by my beloved @raelwrites

—enemies (?) steve harrington X reader, follows along with 'the flea and the acrobat' and 'the monster'

[if anyone wants to be tagged let me know]

 when 1983 entered november, there weren’t very many things you expected to occur. some fights perhaps, a date here or there to humour nancy, academic pressure. what you weren’t planning for, and surely not what the rest of the residents of hawkins were planning for, was a funeral.

 sure, you could finally wear that all-black suit at the back of your closet, but it also meant having to acknowledge that something was seriously wrong in hawkins.

 and that’s not mentioning all the fucked-up shit you and your friends had seen.

 “this is where we know for sure it’s been, right?” jonathan said, holding the paper at an angle so that both you and nancy could also see.

 “so, that’s…” nancy points at one of the red crosses.

 “steve’s house.” jonathan nods. “and that’s the woods where they found will’s bike, and that’s my house.” he lists what the other two crosses represent and you can’t help but notice just how close everything was.

 “it’s all so close.” you voice, and jonathan agrees.

 “I mean, it’s all within a mile or something. whatever this thing is, it’s… it’s not traveling far.”

 “well, there’s gotta be like, somewhere it rests, right? if no one else has seen the thing then I mean…” you trail off, though nancy seems to understand what you’re suggesting.

 “you want to go out there.” her tone makes you hopeful that she won’t think your idea stupid.

 “we might not find anything,” jonathan says, though nancy is quick to defend the idea.

 “we found something.” she tilts her head at you, and you grimace when the creature flashes through your mind. “and if we do see it… then what?” you hadn’t thought this far ahead.

 but it seems jonathan had, because after a brief sigh he states, “we kill it.”

 when it became clear that you were all serious, jonathan folded up his makeshift map and stood. quickly moving to follow him when he starts for the parked car nearby you wonder aloud what he’s planning.

 “jonny-boy, wanna fill us in on your plan? ‘kill’ is a very broad idea, you know.” you try to keep your voice down, aware of the still-mourning towns-folk present.

 when jonathan reaches the car, he quickly situates himself in the passenger seat and begins to fiddle with the lock on the glove box.

 “what are you doing?” nancy questions, and you jump slightly having not heard her approach.

 “just give me a second.”

 “we’re looking mighty suspicious, that second better end soon jonny,” you remark, placing a hand on the bonnet to lean on.

 “are you serious?” nancy suddenly asks and you look through the windshield only to see jonathan move a gun from the compartment to his jacket pocket.

 “oh, what the- holy shit. how do you even have that?” you gawk, quickly looking around to make sure no one was close enough to neither see nor hear what was currently happening.

 “what? you want to find that thing and take another photo? yell at it?” jonathan steps out of the car and with the slam of the door, nancy begins to voice her disagreement.

 “this is a terrible idea.”

 “shh, no- nance, this is a fantastic idea. the fuck were we gonna do against some creature from the black lagoon looking weirdo?” while the appearance of a gun in the equation throws you off, you can’t help but realise that it’s necessary for what you all had planned.

 jonathan agrees with you, looking at nancy while adjusting the new additions to his pockets, “it’s the best we’ve got. what? you can tell someone, but they’re not gonna believe you. you know that.” jonathan points at you and says your name, “- knows that.”

 “your mom would.” nancy strikes back, as if the poor woman didn’t have enough going on right now.

 “she’s been through enough.” jonathan voices your sentiment.

 “she deserves to know.” nancy continues to argue.

 you step closer and place a hand on her shoulder, squeezing enough to grab her attention. “we’ll tell her, nance. but right now?” you gesture lightly at the fact that you were in a cemetery.

 “we’ll tell her when this thing is dead.” jonathan finishes, and nancy has no reply.

 “woah! hey- watch where you swing that thing, damn!” you jump out of the way, narrowly avoiding a collision with the side of nancy’s bat.

 “sorry-” she grunts your name, stepping into another swing, “just practising.”

 you skim your fingers along the other wooden accoutrements by the wall only to jump again when an unfortunately familiar voice calls out, “woah, woah, woah! hey, woah, woah…” steve fucking harrington.

 “what are you doing here?” nancy asks, out of breath.

 “what are you doing?” steve claps back. fair, though you think it’s quite obvious either way.

 “nothing.” apart from swinging a baseball bat around like a lunatic, you mean.

 “I hope that’s not meant for me.” oh. you grin.

 “shucks, you figured it out.” you hop closer to the pair, golf club in hand. “it was gonna be a surprise! y’know, the whole maim and murder thing.”

 “what?” nancy slaps your arm and you giggle, posing with the club as if to whack something. “no. oh, no, I was just… thinking about joining softball.” at her attempts to explain you can’t help but laugh briefly, relaxing from your previous position to use the club, now, as a cane.

 steve kicks the golf club and you almost fall. fair play.

 “well, uh… listen I’m really sorry. I mean, even before you threatened me with the baseball bat.” he moves around you two to lean against the car and you laugh at that. it was a little funny, okay? “I panicked and… I mean, I was a total dick.”

 you drop the shovel you were attempting to remove from the wall. “ah! oh fuck, wait- did you just admit that?” when you turn, you’re met with twin faces of annoyance. not that surprising though you quickly pick up the shovel and mutter an apology to nance.

 “did you get in trouble with your parents?” nancy focuses back on steve.

 “totally, but… you know, who cares? screw ‘em. any news about barbara?” when steve asked about barb, you stop fiddling with the tools. nancy must’ve shaken her head because you didn’t hear a response before steve asked, “parents heard from her? or?”

 this time, you turn and see nancy shake her head again. you can feel your hands begin to shake so you stuff them in the pockets of your jacket, which you still had to talk to nancy about.

 “hey, listen. why don’t we, uh, why don’t we catch a movie tonight, you know? just kinda pretend everything’s normal for a few hours. all the right moves is still playing. you know, with your lover boy from risky business?” you snort at that but let them talk, knowing the invite was for nancy only.

 you haven’t been invited to watch a movie since march.

 “yeah, I know.”

 “you know, carol thinks I actually kinda look like him. what do you think?” steve turns his face side to side before bursting into song. “just take those old records off the shelf, I’ll sit and listen to them by myself.” your urge to get a camera increases ten-fold at witnessing steve act a fool for nancy. god, what perfect blackmail material this would make.

 “I just, I… I don’t think I can. I’ve been really busy with this whole funeral thing and… with my brother, it’s been really hard on him.” you can practically hear the soft emotional music that should be playing right now.

 “yeah, sure. sure, yeah, yeah.” and you can’t believe you might actually feel a little sorry for steve.

 “so…”

 to alleviate some of the tension between steve and nancy, you waltz over and drape an arm across steve’s shoulders, reaching up to mess with his hair briefly. “I’ll go with you, hotshot.” though you might cut your arm off later if a scalding shower doesn’t disinfect the harrington off of you, it distracted the pair enough from their conversation for the mood to rise.

 plus, it’s not like steve would actually agree to go with you.

 “yeah?” steve asked, turning his head slightly to look at you. “thought you hated me?”

 “that I do, dweeb, but you guys are so pathetic right now I might start to cry.” you frown exaggeratedly, bringing your free hand up into a fist by your face to indicate crying.

 when he turns back with a raised brow at nancy, you drop both arms and step away.

 when nancy turns to you then to steve and then back to you with a grin, you feel dread begin to build in your stomach.

 “well, I think that’s a great idea. you guys can, you know, bond,” nancy says, and you and steve share a look because while you both can’t stand the other, you both also can’t resist nancy’s puppy dog eyes.

 “so, what time?” steve asks.

 ok, minimise the damage, let him down gently, tell him you were joking.

 “if you got here with your car, we’re going now.”

 abort. abort. abort.

 “cool.”

 “cool.”

 amongst the list of idiotic things you’ve done, stepping into the same car as steve harrington- stepping into steve harrington’s car, has got to be quite high up on there.

 “I will be honest, though, you have a hell of a nice car.” you swipe your hands across the dash. “permission to pilfer?” your hand hovers over the latch to the glove compartment.

 he laughs, “yeah, sure. it’s only mixtapes in there anyway.” at that you quickly fling it open, pulling the contents into your lap.

 “so, what kinds of- oh my god! hah! wait, holy shit- what are you, a disco freak?” you flick through the tapes, taking in the confusingly large amounts of abba. “oh, voulez-vous, neat.” you whisper and pop it in.

 steve glances at you but says nothing of it.

 it took one side of the tape and stop-start humming to reach the theatre.

 “there’s no queue but if I don’t get a break from you, I might actually punch you, so you grab the tickets to whatever-the-fuck, and I’ll get the popcorn.”

 you shoved your shaking hands into your pockets, waiting for the buckets to get filled up. “so-” steve calls your name and you jump, not expecting the teen to be behind you. “I got two for all the right moves.” he grabs one of the buckets the employee set on the counter and exchanges it for one of the tickets. “ready?”

 you grab the other, sigh, and turn to the entrance to the screens. “as I’ll ever be.”

 you groan in relief as you walk out of the double doors to the cinema, half empty popcorn bucket in hand. “that was like, the most boring movie I’ve ever seen. you enjoy that crap? like, nothing happened- it’s just some jock movie.” you thrust a thumb behind you.

 steve laughs alongside you, empty handed having poured the left-over popcorn into your bucket. “I’ll be honest- I’ve only watched it so many times because nancy’s wanted to.” he grabbed a handful of popcorn to munch on.

 “aww, aren’t you just the sweetest boyfriend!” you giggle and flick a piece of corn at him. he fails to swat it, thus entangling in his hair.

 “oi- not the hair!” he shakes his head, but the popcorn piece stays. “is it gone?” you smile and nod.

“I’ll be honest, you do look a bit like tom cruise- hm. maybe if you flattened your hair a little…” when you reach up to touch steve quickly swerved out of the way. “spoilsport.”

 “oh, yeah?” steve confiscates the popcorn bucket and jumps out of the way of your hand, laughing when you trip a little. when you continue to move for the bucket, steve hops away further until the pair of you are running down the sidewalk.

 “steve! st- oi, dweeb!” you pant, hunched over against the nearest wall. “not everyone’s a jock, you know!”

 when steve saunters back to you, popping pieces of corn in his mouth periodically, you straighten up. grab the bucket. run away.

 you run into a pedestrian and drop the bucket. steve lets out an anguished wail. so do you, actually.

 “the popcorn! it was so meticulously curated!” steve drops down next to you, and you gawp at the fact that king steve so readily lowered himself to your level.

 “you will be remembered… dearly.” you mock-wipe away a stray tear before standing up and dusting your legs. thankfully, the stranger had walked off without complaint. “c’mon, I probably have popcorn at home- and better movies.”

 “taking me home already? don’t you move fast.” steve teases, flicking a stay piece of corn at you.

 “don’t get any ideas, harrington. now, where’s your car, again?”

 “you’re only allowed in the car if you don’t laugh at my music the whole way.” steve unlocks the car when you get to it, and you snort as you sit in the passenger seat.

 “stevie- half of your mixtapes are abba, what else am I supposed to do?” you flick through the tapes in his glove box, pulling out one at random and snorting when it turns out to be abba. you glance at steve when he has no rebuttal and double-back at the red face he sports. “uh- steve? you good?”

 the teen nods, hums and starts the car.

 “what, did you find the corn still in your hair?” you tease, picking the piece out and flicking it out of the window.

 “yeah, yeah totally that- hey, listen… I’ll drop you home but I gotta go- gotta pick up tommy and carol soon. uh- popcorn another time.” you slip the abba tape in, determined to ignore what caused steve’s mood to shift so much.

 “I guess chivalry isn’t dead.”

 on saturday you wake to frenzied pounding on your front door. when it escalated from voiceless disturbance to frantic shouts of your name between the knocks, you stumbled out of bed, tossed on a discarded sweater, and journeyed to the front door.

 “did you know?!” is what greets you the second you crack the door open. steve’s panicked voice is followed by the chill november wind so with a grunt you pull him inside.

 “did I know what, harrington?” comes your grumble, resting against the door and wiping the sleep from your eyes.

 “nancy and jonathan.” he elaborates, poorly.

 “what about them?” you yawn.

 “they’re fucking sleeping together.” your mouth snaps shut.

 “ex- cuse me?” well now that can’t be what you heard, right? “did you just- hold on. what the fuck did you just say?”

 “nancy- that- fucking bitch, she’s sleeping with byers,” steve says through gritted teeth, and you can’t help but scoff.

 “and this comes from, where exactly? also- don’t call nance a bitch, what’s wrong with you?”

 “yeah, well I fucking saw that freak cosying up with nancy in her bedroom.” steve’s words pause your feet in their walk to the kitchen.

 “well now that can’t be right.” you resume the short trip to the kitchen and hear steve follow behind you, steps heavy and breaths deep. “eggs or pancakes?”

 “what?”

 “it’s a simple question, harrington. eggs or pancakes?” you start taking bowls out of shelves and utensils from drawers.

 “pancakes?”

 “good choice.” you turn around and point the whisk at him. “if I’m gonna get through this stupid conversation you’re insisting I partake in, I’m making some food.”

 you hear when steve sits down by the slight scrape of the table chair and heavy sigh. you know he’s going to begin talking when the teen clears his throat. “did you know?”

 “no- well, it depends. did I know they were hanging out? yeah, I was there with them half the time. did I know by best friend is now apparently a slut? that’d be a no.” you try to sound as nonchalant as you can. if the both of you start panicking, well, the pancakes definitely won’t be made. “what did you even see?”

 steve groans in his seat at the table, shuffles around a bit, and hits his head against the wall behind him. “byers was practically all over her.” you can hear the disgust in his voice. “it was just- they were… agh- right, hold on.”

 “you sure they weren’t just, I don’t know- talking? friends do that too, you know.”

 when you hear him begin to move you turn, only to practically bash your body against his. “woah- hey now. hot pan behind me, careful.” you move away, laughing a little to ease the sudden discomfort and begin to ladle batter into the pan.

 “ok so-” harrington just moves closer when you step away. “if you picture me as jonathan, you as nance…” steve presses the side of his body against yours, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “would you talk to your friends like this?”

 you freeze.

 “uh-” this can’t be happening. “not usually, no.” you whisper back.

 he moves away. you almost sway to get closer again but catch yourself.

 what the fuck?

 “that’s what I though.” steve scoffs. “bet that’s why she blew me off yesterday. too busy blowing byers to hang out with her boyfriend.” you snort.

 “yeah, alright. well, if you want-” you push a plate of pancakes towards steve. “we can go confront her about it later- eat.” you drop a fork on the plate. “and if she says nothin’, we can go bully jonny for an answer or something.”

 “jonny?” you hear steve whisper.

 “everyone’s gotta have a nickname, dweeb. syrups in the cupboard next to you.”

 “hey! what the fucks happening?!” you shout, running down the alley from which you could hear the, sadly, familiar shouts of nancy and tommy. “hey, hey nance what- what the hell? what- how did this happen?” you pant, wincing whenever you hear a fist connecting with a body.

 “steve said- jonathan, stop! stop! you’re gonna hurt him!” nancy attempts to explain but quickly overlooks it in favour of attempting to move closer, and you quickly grab her by the shoulders to hold her back from the swinging fists, holding tighter when you hear police sirens.

 “guys! jonny, stop! you moron!” you let go of nancy when you’re certain she won’t try to move closer in favour of helping tommy pull jonathan away from steve, which becomes a much harder task than initially suspected when the teen just shrugs you off and tommy redirects to grabbing steve and running away.

 “I got this one!” one of the officers shouts, cuffing a bent over jonathan.

 “jesus, when steve said he had something planned with his friends, I didn’t think it mean this- what the fuck…” you place a hand over your forehead and lean on nancy who looks close to tears. “hey, hey nance. nancy, you’re ok, right?” you question, suddenly worried when she continues to stay silent.

 “yeah, yeah- what… what are you doing here?”

 “didn’t have popcorn at home.” which was true, but it didn’t answer her question. “what are you doing here?” you redirect.

 “tommy said something, then steve said some stuff, christ. I don’t even know how this happened… one minute they were just arguing and the next, well.” you nod.

 “wanna know the worst part about this all?” you ask, guiding nancy out of the alley and to the cop car jonathan was just placed in. “I didn’t even get my popcorn.” this pulls a laugh from nancy, and you beam, glad to have at least cheered her up, however brief it was.

 the ride to the police station is silent. you ache to strike up a conversation but whenever you glance at nancy’s crestfallen expression the words die in your throat.

 when you reach the station, you and nancy are redirected to the nurse. since neither of you actually did anything apart from be at the scene of the incident, neither of you had to speak with the police as of right now.

 as the lady pulls a tray of ice cubes out of the freezer and a towel out of the desk drawer, nancy asks, “do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” probably. or at least, you hope so.

 “you, yes. him, no.” she responds, “he assaulted a police officer.” which is a fair point, and true. however, that police officer did get in the way of a fighting teen, of course he was bound to be hit.

 “well, how long are you gonna keep him?” you question, glancing around at the decorations on the walls.

 “you and her boyfriend have big plans, do you?” the lady asks, straight-faced. you choke on your spit.

 “he’s not my boyfriend.” comes nancy’s reply and you shake your head alongside her.

 “I think you better tell him that.” because that’s gonna go down well with steve.

 at nancy’s confusion, the lady continues. “only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart.” which was a sweet, albeit unneeded, sentiment. “and that damn stupid.” at least that’s true.

 “you’re a- you’re a wise lady, ma’am,” you say before following nancy out of the room.

 jonathan looks about as pathetic as you had left him at the desk and as you round the table you pat his back, resisting the urge to ruffle his hair. the teen just came out of a fight, no point irritating any injuries he might have.

 “found some ice.” nancy sits beside him, lifting the make-shift ice pack she was given to rest against jonathan’s face.

 the tense silence is broken by jonathan, “everything ok?” you don’t bother answering. with how they’re staring at each other, it’s almost as if you don’t exist.

 hm.

 “yeah. everything’s fine.” is the lie nancy settles with because everything was most certainly not fine.

  how is it that steve might actually be right for once?

---

Connor tried to be there every time one of his siblings was born and visit them in the hospital. He went to great lengths to hold each one in his arms. Looking into their innocent wide eyes, he promised each of them the same thing. He knew that their father would try to shape them into the hounds he wants but that he would do everything in his power to give them the things he never had: moments of happiness, love, acceptance and refuge.

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Trans women make the world a brighter place

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