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mostlysignssomeportents · 5 months

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The moral injury of having your work enshittified

This Monday (November 27), I'm appearing at the Toronto Metro Reference Library with Facebook whistleblower Frances Haugen.

On November 29, I'm at NYC's Strand Books with my novel The Lost Cause, a solarpunk tale of hope and danger that Rebecca Solnit called "completely delightful."

This week, I wrote about how the Great Enshittening – in which all the digital services we rely on become unusable, extractive piles of shit – did not result from the decay of the morals of tech company leadership, but rather, from the collapse of the forces that discipline corporate wrongdoing:

https://locusmag.com/2023/11/commentary-by-cory-doctorow-dont-be-evil/

The failure to enforce competition law allowed a few companies to buy out their rivals, or sell goods below cost until their rivals collapsed, or bribe key parts of their supply chain not to allow rivals to participate:

https://www.engadget.com/google-reportedly-pays-apple-36-percent-of-ad-search-revenues-from-safari-191730783.html

The resulting concentration of the tech sector meant that the surviving firms were stupendously wealthy, and cozy enough that they could agree on a common legislative agenda. That regulatory capture has allowed tech companies to violate labor, privacy and consumer protection laws by arguing that the law doesn't apply when you use an app to violate it:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But the regulatory capture isn't just about preventing regulation: it's also about creating regulation – laws that make it illegal to reverse-engineer, scrape, and otherwise mod, hack or reconfigure existing services to claw back value that has been taken away from users and business customers. This gives rise to Jay Freeman's perfectly named doctrine of "felony contempt of business-model," in which it is illegal to use your own property in ways that anger the shareholders of the company that sold it to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/09/lead-me-not-into-temptation/#chamberlain

Undisciplined by the threat of competition, regulation, or unilateral modification by users, companies are free to enshittify their products. But what does that actually look like? I say that enshittification is always precipitated by a lost argument.

It starts when someone around a board-room table proposes doing something that's bad for users but good for the company. If the company faces the discipline of competition, regulation or self-help measures, then the workers who are disgusted by this course of action can say, "I think doing this would be gross, and what's more, it's going to make the company poorer," and so they win the argument.

But when you take away that discipline, the argument gets reduced to, "Don't do this because it would make me ashamed to work here, even though it will make the company richer." Money talks, bullshit walks. Let the enshittification begin!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/22/who-wins-the-argument/#corporations-are-people-my-friend

But why do workers care at all? That's where phrases like "don't be evil" come into the picture. Until very recently, tech workers participated in one of history's tightest labor markets, in which multiple companies with gigantic war-chests bid on their labor. Even low-level employees routinely fielded calls from recruiters who dangled offers of higher salaries and larger stock grants if they would jump ship for a company's rival.

Employers built "campuses" filled with lavish perks: massages, sports facilities, daycare, gourmet cafeterias. They offered workers generous benefit packages, including exotic health benefits like having your eggs frozen so you could delay fertility while offsetting the risks normally associated with conceiving at a later age.

But all of this was a transparent ruse: the business-case for free meals, gyms, dry-cleaning, catering and massages was to keep workers at their laptops for 10, 12, or even 16 hours per day. That egg-freezing perk wasn't about helping workers plan their families: it was about thumbing the scales in favor of working through your entire twenties and thirties without taking any parental leave.

In other words, tech employers valued their employees as a means to an end: they wanted to get the best geeks on the payroll and then work them like government mules. The perks and pay weren't the result of comradeship between management and labor: they were the result of the discipline of competition for labor.

This wasn't really a secret, of course. Big Tech workers are split into two camps: blue badges (salaried employees) and green badges (contractors). Whenever there is a slack labor market for a specific job or skill, it is converted from a blue badge job to a green badge job. Green badges don't get the food or the massages or the kombucha. They don't get stock or daycare. They don't get to freeze their eggs. They also work long hours, but they are incentivized by the fear of poverty.

Tech giants went to great lengths to shield blue badges from green badges – at some Google campuses, these workforces actually used different entrances and worked in different facilities or on different floors. Sometimes, green badge working hours would be staggered so that the armies of ragged clickworkers would not be lined up to badge in when their social betters swanned off the luxury bus and into their airy adult kindergartens.

But Big Tech worked hard to convince those blue badges that they were truly valued. Companies hosted regular town halls where employees could ask impertinent questions of their CEOs. They maintained freewheeling internal social media sites where techies could rail against corporate foolishness and make Dilbert references.

And they came up with mottoes.

Apple told its employees it was a sound environmental steward that cared about privacy. Apple also deliberately turned old devices into e-waste by shredding them to ensure that they wouldn't be repaired and compete with new devices:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/22/vin-locking/#thought-differently

And even as they were blocking Facebook's surveillance tools, they quietly built their own nonconsensual mass surveillance program and lied to customers about it:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/14/luxury-surveillance/#liar-liar

Facebook told employees they were on a "mission to connect every person in the world," but instead deliberately sowed discontent among its users and trapped them in silos that meant that anyone who left Facebook lost all their friends:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2021/08/facebooks-secret-war-switching-costs

And Google promised its employees that they would not "be evil" if they worked at Google. For many googlers, that mattered. They wanted to do something good with their lives, and they had a choice about who they would work for. What's more, they did make things that were good. At their high points, Google Maps, Google Mail, and of course, Google Search were incredible.

My own life was totally transformed by Maps: I have very poor spatial sense, need to actually stop and think to tell my right from my left, and I spent more of my life at least a little lost and often very lost. Google Maps is the cognitive prosthesis I needed to become someone who can go anywhere. I'm profoundly grateful to the people who built that service.

There's a name for phenomenon in which you care so much about your job that you endure poor conditions and abuse: it's called "vocational awe," as coined by Fobazi Ettarh:

https://www.inthelibrarywiththeleadpipe.org/2018/vocational-awe/

Ettarh uses the term to apply to traditionally low-waged workers like librarians, teachers and nurses. In our book Chokepoint Capitalism, Rebecca Giblin and I talked about how it applies to artists and other creative workers, too:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

But vocational awe is also omnipresent in tech. The grandiose claims to be on a mission to make the world a better place are not just puffery – they're a vital means of motivating workers who can easily quit their jobs and find a new one to put in 16-hour days. The massages and kombucha and egg-freezing are not framed as perks, but as logistical supports, provided so that techies on an important mission can pursue a shared social goal without being distracted by their balky, inconvenient meatsuits.

Steve Jobs was a master of instilling vocational awe. He was full of aphorisms like "we're here to make a dent in the universe, otherwise why even be here?" Or his infamous line to John Sculley, whom he lured away from Pepsi: "Do you want to sell sugar water for the rest of your life or come with me and change the world?"

Vocational awe cuts both ways. If your workforce actually believes in all that high-minded stuff, if they actually sacrifice their health, family lives and self-care to further the mission, they will defend it. That brings me back to enshittification, and the argument: "If we do this bad thing to the product I work on, it will make me hate myself."

The decline in market discipline for large tech companies has been accompanied by a decline in labor discipline, as the market for technical work grew less and less competitive. Since the dotcom collapse, the ability of tech giants to starve new entrants of market oxygen has shrunk techies' dreams.

Tech workers once dreamed of working for a big, unwieldy firm for a few years before setting out on their own to topple it with a startup. Then, the dream shrank: work for that big, clumsy firm for a few years, then do a fake startup that makes a fake product that is acquihired by your old employer, as an incredibly inefficient and roundabout way to get a raise and a bonus.

Then the dream shrank again: work for a big, ugly firm for life, but get those perks, the massages and the kombucha and the stock options and the gourmet cafeteria and the egg-freezing. Then it shrank again: work for Google for a while, but then get laid off along with 12,000 co-workers, just months after the company does a stock buyback that would cover all those salaries for the next 27 years:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/10/the-proletarianization-of-tech-workers/

Tech workers' power was fundamentally individual. In a tight labor market, tech workers could personally stand up to their bosses. They got "workplace democracy" by mouthing off at town hall meetings. They didn't have a union, and they thought they didn't need one. Of course, they did need one, because there were limits to individual power, even for the most in-demand workers, especially when it came to ghastly, long-running sexual abuse from high-ranking executives:

https://www.nytimes.com/2018/10/25/technology/google-sexual-harassment-andy-rubin.html

Today, atomized tech workers who are ordered to enshittify the products they take pride in are losing the argument. Workers who put in long hours, missed funerals and school plays and little league games and anniversaries and family vacations are being ordered to flush that sacrifice down the toilet to grind out a few basis points towards a KPI.

It's a form of moral injury, and it's palpable in the first-person accounts of former workers who've exited these large firms or the entire field. The viral "Reflecting on 18 years at Google," written by Ian Hixie, vibrates with it:

https://ln.hixie.ch/?start=1700627373

Hixie describes the sense of mission he brought to his job, the workplace democracy he experienced as employees' views were both solicited and heeded. He describes the positive contributions he was able to make to a commons of technical standards that rippled out beyond Google – and then, he says, "Google's culture eroded":

Decisions went from being made for the benefit of users, to the benefit of Google, to the benefit of whoever was making the decision.

In other words, techies started losing the argument. Layoffs weakened worker power – not just to defend their own interest, but to defend the users interests. Worker power is always about more than workers – think of how the 2019 LA teachers' strike won greenspace for every school, a ban on immigration sweeps of students' parents at the school gates and other community benefits:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/23/a-collective-bargain/

Hixie attributes the changes to a change in leadership, but I respectfully disagree. Hixie points to the original shareholder letter from the Google founders, in which they informed investors contemplating their IPO that they were retaining a controlling interest in the company's governance so that they could ignore their shareholders' priorities in favor of a vision of Google as a positive force in the world:

https://abc.xyz/investor/founders-letters/ipo-letter/

Hixie says that the leadership that succeeded the founders lost sight of this vision – but the whole point of that letter is that the founders never fully ceded control to subsequent executive teams. Yes, those executive teams were accountable to the shareholders, but the largest block of voting shares were retained by the founders.

I don't think the enshittification of Google was due to a change in leadership – I think it was due to a change in discipline, the discipline imposed by competition, regulation and the threat of self-help measures. Take ads: when Google had to contend with one-click adblocker installation, it had to constantly balance the risk of making users so fed up that they googled "how do I block ads?" and then never saw another ad ever again.

But once Google seized the majority of the mobile market, it was able to funnel users into apps, and reverse-engineering an app is a felony (felony contempt of business-model) under Section 1201 of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act. An app is just a web-page wrapped in enough IP to make it a crime to install an ad-blocker.

And as Google acquired control over the browser market, it was likewise able to reduce the self-help measures available to browser users who found ads sufficiently obnoxious to trigger googling "how do I block ads?" The apotheosis of this is the yearslong campaign to block adblockers in Chrome, which the company has sworn it will finally do this coming June:

https://www.tumblr.com/tevruden/734352367416410112/you-have-until-june-to-dump-chrome

My contention here is not that Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in personnel via the promotion of managers who have shitty ideas. Google's enshittification was precipitated by a change in discipline, as the negative consequences of heeding those shitty ideas were abolished thanks to monopoly.

This is bad news for people like me, who rely on services like Google Maps as cognitive prostheses. Elizabeth Laraki, one of the original Google Maps designers, has published a scorching critique of the latest GMaps design:

https://twitter.com/elizlaraki/status/1727351922254852182

Laraki calls out numerous enshittificatory design-choices that have left Maps screens covered in "crud" – multiple revenue-maximizing elements that come at the expense of usability, shifting value from users to Google.

What Laraki doesn't say is that these UI elements are auctioned off to merchants, which means that the business that gives Google the most money gets the greatest prominence in Maps, even if it's not the best merchant. That's a recurring motif in enshittified tech platforms, most notoriously Amazon, which makes $31b/year auctioning off top search placement to companies whose products aren't relevant enough to your query to command that position on their own:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/25/greedflation/#commissar-bezos

Enshittification begets enshittification. To succeed on Amazon, you must divert funds from product quality to auction placement, which means that the top results are the worst products:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens

The exception is searches for Apple products: Apple and Amazon have a cozy arrangement that means that searches for Apple products are a timewarp back to the pre-enshittification Amazon, when the company worried enough about losing your business to heed the employees who objected to sacrificing search quality as part of a merchant extortion racket:

https://www.businessinsider.com/amazon-gives-apple-special-treatment-while-others-suffer-junk-ads-2023-11

Not every tech worker is a tech bro, in other words. Many workers care deeply about making your life better. But the microeconomics of the boardroom in a monopolized tech sector rewards the worst people and continuously promotes them. Forget the Peter Principle: tech is ruled by the Sam Principle.

As OpenAI went through four CEOs in a single week, lots of commentators remarked on Sam Altman's rise and fall and rise, but I only found one commentator who really had Altman's number. Writing in Today in Tabs, Rusty Foster nailed Altman to the wall:

https://www.todayintabs.com/p/defective-accelerationism

Altman's history goes like this: first, he founded a useless startup that raised $30m, only to be acquired and shuttered. Then Altman got a job running Y Combinator, where he somehow failed at taking huge tranches of equity from "every Stanford dropout with an idea for software to replace something Mommy used to do." After that, he founded OpenAI, a company that he claims to believe presents an existential risk to the entire human risk – which he structured so incompetently that he was then forced out of it.

His reward for this string of farcical, mounting failures? He was put back in charge of the company he mis-structured despite his claimed belief that it will destroy the human race if not properly managed.

Altman's been around for a long time. He founded his startup in 2005. There've always been Sams – of both the Bankman-Fried varietal and the Altman genus – in tech. But they didn't get to run amok. They were disciplined by their competitors, regulators, users and workers. The collapse of competition led to an across-the-board collapse in all of those forms of discipline, revealing the executives for the mediocre sociopaths they always were, and exposing tech workers' vocational awe for the shabby trick it was from the start.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/25/moral-injury/#enshittification

#pluralistic #moral injury #enshittification #worker power #google #dont be evil #monopoly #sam altman #openai #vocational awe #making a dent in the universe

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ktsumu · 2 months

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FIFTH TIME’S A CHARM

cw: suggestive content, nudity happy valentine's day ᡣ𐭩

This year, for the first time ever, Tooru doesn’t buy flowers for his valentine. You are the only witness to the crime.

His first girlfriend, back in junior high, got roses. She got him roses, too, with a chocolate bar he ended up giving to his sweet tooth sister. They were real, shockingly, smelt good too.

They were discounted, and it’s a basic gift, but he was twelve and had only been seeing her for three weeks.

(And they broke up two weeks later, so he has no regrets about the roses that cost his mom less than fifteen bucks.)

The second girlfriend was a little more serious.

Tooru thinks he might’ve been fourteen for that one. He liked her—she was kind, pretty, had a nice laugh. He remembers holding hands in the hallway at school and their first kiss (well, peck) was surrounded by a bunch of classmates, screaming like it mattered more to them than it did to him.

He forgets how long they lasted, but he’s sure they started dating in November and made it to Valentine’s Day. He bought her tulips, her favourite, and a stuffed bear, because it was right beside it in the store. With his own money, too.

His second girlfriend—he really, really feels bad about not knowing her name anymore—got him chocolate. He gave it to his sister again, but he kept the card she wrote him, saying she loved him three months in like either of them knew what that meant.

And to be fair, he said he loved her, too. Just not to her face. Many, many times to Hajime, though.

Tooru and Girlfriend #2 broke up in May. He wasn’t even planning on it, either. She just moved to a different country and he wasn’t looking for a penpal, and she said she didn’t wanna cheat on him.

The third girlfriend is where his small list gets serious.

He gave romance a break after the one that got away. He just flirted with people up until his first year of high school, the big leagues, which is when he actually got too much attention.

It’s a huge deal when you’re sixteen and your girlfriend is seventeen. He was crowned royalty of his class, the chosen one. The only one that could possibly score an older girl and act like it’s no big deal, and then proceed to blow her off to watch a game taping or something. On top of the world, and yet so below the standard.

She was pretty good to him. Makki always said he was a moron and she was gonna dump his ass, and Tooru probably knew that, too. Hajime said he was wasting his time, and every time he’d deny it, he’d think about how right he was.

He and the third girlfriend—Hana, he remembers—had one Valentine’s Day together, but it was so close to two that he almost wants to count it as such for the hell of it.

He got her wildflowers because she always said she hated roses and tulips. Basic flowers mean they don’t care, or something like that. He didn’t understand it fully, but he was happy when she leapt into his arms, that was for sure. It felt pretty good when she kissed him stupid and said he was the best, but that high didn’t survive the Spring Tournament the next year.

That’s how close he was to two Valentine’s Days—January. Fucking brutal.

She dumped him and he swore off girlfriends in senior year; probably even blamed it on something stupid like ‘bad omens.’ He graduated with D1 offers, though, so he counts it as a win.

That tallies up to three successful Valentine’s Days, so far right? Yeah, right—all with flowers.

The fourth bouquet wasn’t a bouquet at all, it was actually orchids in a pot, left on the kitchen table of the apartment he lived in when he moved. He was twenty, her name was Riko, his first almost everything. First I love you, first time—name it, basically.

He did make it to two Valentine’s Days with Riko, which is something so impressive for him that confetti emojis were everywhere in the groupchat he kept with his friends from high school. Hearts, confetti, eggplants, whatever else.

The first one was admittedly better than the second, though. The second one, he got a really serious offer overseas, and he didn’t even ask about it. He just told her that he loved her, and that he’d be in Argentina by August.

(Safe to say that he was the only one packing for that.)

That was the last time he bought flowers on Valentine’s Day, because it was the last time he consciously celebrated with someone. He sent his friends funny clips or pictures just to tease, taunted them whenever they could keep a girlfriend to celebrate with, but he gave up himself.

(It’s just so much easier to relax—he’d have no problem getting a girlfriend if he wanted one. His issue is keeping them.)

He’s twenty-seven and solo.

Mostly solo, he should say. You come around a lot, stay the nights with him. You typically collect your clothes and leave the next morning with a wave and maybe a ‘text me if you wanna do this again Friday,’ but he hates how he’s lying when he grins and says he just might.

Tooru is so used to being the one to leave, or to sabotage himself until someone else does, that he’s forgotten that it actually sucks when you don’t wanna be left alone.

The whole point of you and him is to keep it casual, but Tooru can barely keep it cool.

He likes to consider himself experienced. It’s why he gets so fucked up when he kisses you for longer than he realizes, or how he finds himself holding back words he thinks might be too much for casual sex.

You two are functional together, at least. He just puts the system at risk a lot.

When he wakes up today, February fourteenth, he doesn’t even know what day it is. He’s naked, in his own bed at the very least, and he can see his jeans on the floor through the light of the bathroom dripping through the door left open. Dawn peeks through the curtains.

The room is quiet, the window’s open so the birds can talk to him, and to his left, you’re still here.

“Hey,” he says, yawning.

“Good morning,” you say back, a small smile on your face as you stretch. He can’t help but smile back, with his grin and smile lines, eyes drifting to the hem of the sheets that try and cover you up. Okay, naked too. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

Woah.

“It’s Valentine’s Day?” he replies in a hurry, leaning up on his elbow as he grabs his phone. Yes, very much so.

You raise your brows. “What? Got a wife you forgot about?”

“Very funny.”

“I know, I’ve been waiting,” you say. It’s your turn to yawn now, moving to lay your head on his chest, hand pushing him back down into the bed. “What’s the panic, then?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. Just … forgot. It's weird.”

“Hm. So where are my roses, huh?”

Tooru scoffs, glancing down at you as he rests a hand on your waist. “They’re being delivered, obviously.”

“I figured.” You cock your head. “What’s up with Valentine’s Day, huh?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never not gotten flowers for someone when I’ve had them.”

“Are you talking about me?”

“What, I can’t get friendly flowers?” he asks, raised brows and attitude waking up with him. “You’re naked in my bed, that must constitute something.”

The way you pout your lip in thought makes him wanna reach out for your hand. Is it weird to do that? Can I do that?

(You do it first, but he holds you tighter.)

“No, this is fine.”

“Fine?”

“Better,” you quickly correct. “I’d rather just stay in bed and say it once. I prefer acts of service, anyway.”

Looking at you, laying on his bare chest, the sun creeping in over yours, he doesn’t care all that much about how he’s breaking tradition anymore. Maybe it’s not even tradition, maybe it’s just a cycle he’s breaking; a vicious one, at that.

You’re an unconventional valentine in the sense that you’re not even his, but maybe when the day’s passed and he doesn’t feel it looming over him, he might bring it up again.

“Acts of service, you say?”

You snicker, being pushed onto your back as he looms over you. He’s looking at you like Cupid hit him; bullseye.

“You wouldn’t happen to know of those, would you?”

“Just tell me what you want, already. Let me make up for the flowers.”

You take him by the back of the neck, pulling him down to kiss you like he means it. Tooru speaks in tongues the two of you best understand.

For the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, Tooru doesn’t buy his valentine flowers. But, for the first time in four official Valentine’s Days, it feels so right that it doesn’t even matter he’s doing it ‘wrong.’

(Next time, when you’re hopefully here again, he doesn’t think he’ll get flowers, either. This'll do.)

#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu!! x reader #kit writes

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welldonekhushi · 6 months

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Okay guys, I'm back and.. I needed a short break after what happened in the MWIII campaign. Words can't express how shocked I was when I reached the end of the campaign and.. it left me in confusion, denial, depression and anger.

I'm putting a "read more" below because, if there are people who still haven't played MWIII, I'll keep ya guys safe.

Our theories before were constantly revolving that who's gonna die and what worse is going to happen.. it first pointed towards the fate of Price or Gaz. But, turns out we were jinxed. JINXED.

The campaign was.. okay but at the same time I felt it was small. Quite rushed. I did have a light of concern over their release date when MWII was currently trending. I was reading others reviews of how they felt about the game and yes, I agree with the same. But I wanna talk about Soap's fate this time..

Soap, who JUST started his journey, like, the one who only appeared in MWII and hoped we would see him more develop in the further games to be just.. killed off? When were they moments away from achieving victory?

So only because it's called MW3 ✌🏻 and you wanted to give us all a nostalgic experience you'll.. give them the original plot treatment? Both Soaps in the Modern Warfare universes.. died under the hands of Vladimir Makarov but in different circumstances.

This is where I got a bit angry at Price because, why didn't you kill Makarov instead of taking him in custody in Verdansk?! That guy is a walking grim reaper, and if Price took that action before, not just Soap but MANY more lives would have been saved. Soap was a man who was ready to take immediate action but always got backed off because of being bound to orders.

The end scene when they took out his ashes.. it broke me. Like, how unexpected this can be? Well, though I know Makarov already gave a warning that he was going to kill him off in the heli scene, but.. it's just not it? Like, honestly, I was hopeful Soap would survive.. it's disappointing for me, as someone who loves him so much, like anything.

So ScarSoap's now an angsty ship? Because let it be for both universes — OG and Reboot, Scarlet's going to be left behind? Welp, I'm more sad now, lol.

Otherwise, the expectations I had for the campaign were somehow, not met to the fullest but let's talk about the good things.

Price killing off Shepherd. YES, THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT. I freaking knew that he was going to die and my prediction called itself right. But, now that Price killed a 4-star General, he's gonna go rogue. You mean, batshit, crazy and unhinged Price on the move?!

Julian Kostov. The man. Bro, like, when he was featured in the reveal trailer, I was just hoping that he'd play the role of Makarov well and guess what? He did! I absolutely loved how he portrayed the man and he looked intimidating and twisted like a true psychopath. Truly, he could compete with the OG!Makarov and it's proven! Hats off to the actor, really <3

Price DOESN'T die. Neither in my beliefs, Farah and Alex. A relief. A pure relief, for real. The trailers showed him passing out but glad he's good in one piece. But, did that happen for the cost of killing Soap? :')

Graves and Shepherd betray each other in the conference, LMFAO! Who knew they were going to turn their backs on each other. Graves really had nothing to do with this, he was just a man following orders.. the problem lies with Shepherd, and always has.

Now, these guys said we're gonna release the "full campaign" on November 10. You mean.. the early access didn't show much of the story? So there's hope? OR NOT? Sigh, I don't want to think about it.. I just don't. I've been delulu, haha

Anyways, these are my thoughts for Modern Warfare III! What do you feel about it, let me know in the comments!

#mw3 spoilers #cod #call of duty #cod mw #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw23 #call of duty modern warfare 2023 #call of duty modern warfare iii #call of duty modern warfare 3

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chaoticreation · 6 months

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10/29/23

This area is a death sentence without transportation. I'm running out of food, I can't get my prescriptions, can't flee in an emergency, and me and Syd have been freezing for like, a month, aside from the past two days because it's been surprisingly warm out for October. But November is around the corner, and it's gonna get cold. Fast.

I don't have the funds to repair my van, or the furnace.

Eventually, I'm gonna go homeless if the taxes aren't paid, but the van and furnace are extremely pressing matters right now.

If you can afford to donate, I'd appreciate anything you can spare. If you can't, that's okay. You can still help by sharing this campaign! Please don't donate if you can't afford to, but please SHARE no matter what!

OUR SURVIVAL DEPENDS ON IT. YES, I AM BEGGING. I'M TERRIFIED.

Gfm requires at least $5 donation, so if you can't swing that, you can send less to:

ven.mo: https://account.venmo.com/u/rroche90 pay.pal: [email protected]

Edit, 11/7/23: And we also don't have hot water now either. When the plumber came to give me an estimate on the furnace, he found that the hot water heater had a bad leak, so that was turned off to reduce damage.

Edit, 11/12/23: Septic problems now, too. Sinks are backing up. Woo! Still no heat, btw. It's been a month without heat and it's getting colder. Friend bought Syd a bigger hospital cage, but it hasn't arrived yet, so poor girl has to continue to suffer. Still no transportation, either. HEAP has said they'll pay half the furnace bill if I'm on the deed, which I can't and won't do until the taxes are paid off. I'm not about to inherit that debt.

@sydthetiel is being kept in a tiny hospital cage in my office with a space heater. Not ideal, but it's keeping her warm at least.

We're really not okay.

Edit, 11/16/23: Still no heat or hot water. Plumber isn't even actually getting back to us lmao. Mechanic got back to us, though, and they've found that the brake lines are rusted and need to be replaced. They want an extra $3500 for that. So it'd be roughly $6,000 to get my van repaired. Or I can just fix what I can fix at $2,000 and take my chances with rusted brake lines, and be an accident waiting to happen because I'm desperate to not be trapped in a freezing house with no meds or food or water lmao. Or I just don't get to have transportation back. Or I have to buy a new used vehicle, for like, $15,000+. So... mostly there's just no hope left for me. I'm ready to just give up. It's too much to fix, and my odds of survival are at 0 anyway. I won't last the winter here, and I can't even leave.

Edit, 11/22/23: That plumber ghosted us. We got a new plumber. He came out yesterday and got the furnace rigged to work, just in time. As he pulled into the driveway, it started sleeting and snowing. Throughout the night. The problem is, the furnace isn't fixed, so it could crap out at any moment. The water heater is off, but still leaking, so it's time sensitive to have it replaced. But he's pointed out another problem with that; Rex's hoarding. We need to be able to get rid of enough of her crap to get the equipment in and out. He can do it, but it's gonna cost. Additionally, the chimney isn't in great shape so we have to do something about that, or it's going to defeat the purpose of these replacements. Waiting for the quotes on everything.

As for my van, it's ready to be picked up, without the brake lines being finished. We found a new place that said they'd charge between $700-$1000 to replace the brake lines. A lot better than $3,500, but still not money I have. So until I can do that, it's a risk driving it, but I really don't have a choice. I can't stay living like this, trapped in the middle of nowhere. It's defeating me mentally and physically. But there's another problem too, that won't be covered under warranty. A knock sensor. No idea how much it'll cost yet, but it needs to be replaced in order for the van to pass inspection in December.

I'm feeling incredibly hopeless. I can't even run, because I have Syd, and I'm not going to abandon her. She's my kiddo. She's in a bigger cage now, happily. But I'm at such a loss of what to do. We're not going to survive the winter here without these repairs, and fleeing is going to be really difficult, and I may not have a home to come back to in Spring if I did manage to leave for the winter with Syd.

#signal boost #gofundme #donation #fundraiser #help us survive

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copperbadge · 3 months

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Radio Free Monday

Good morning everyone, and welcome to Radio Free Monday!

Ways to Give:

captain-dh linked to a fundraiser for Avi, the daughter of a close friend who is five years old and was just diagnosed with Granulomatous Mycosis Fungoides, a rare form of lymphoma. It is especially rare in children and incurable; she will need lifelong care. You can read more and support the fundraiser here. (On a personal note this is close to my heart -- I also have mycosis fungoides, though I'm lucky that mine is considered in remission. I can confirm what's in the gofundme regarding treatment for most presentations of the disease.)

potatoshoe linked to deliriumcrow and cipheramnesia, who lost their house in a fire and were then scammed by the contractor they hired, resulting in further damage to their house. They are raising money to pay for repairs from both the fire and the contractor; you can read more and support the fundraiser here.

Eli is a disabled Michigander who cares for their elderly grandmother; they are applying for SSDI, but their car was damaged recently and is undrivable, with an $800 charge just for a diagnostic. They are living paycheck to paycheck and can't afford repairs; they're raising funds to cover the diagnostic and tow, and eventually the full repair. You can read more and reblog here or give at the gofundme here.

idiomagic's husband's company just went under with no warning, leaving them with no income and no severance pay; she is disabled but has not been able to qualify for assistance, and they are looking at bills arriving before unemployment does. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

poignardrose is a college student from the Philippines, studying away from her family, and her parents are unexpexctedly unable to support her education; she is in mounting debt and facing eviction from her dorm in her last semester of college. She's raising funds to repair her laptop so she can do her schoolwork and find a remote job that will help her pay rent, and to fund the remainder of her schooling. You can read more, reblog, and support the fundraiser here.

highlander_ii is moving cross country next month, and needs help covering that in order not to wipe out her savings completely; she's raising about $1K for costs, and you can read more and find giving information here or give directly via paypal.

queerdo-mcjewface is raising funds for incarcerated penpal Shine White, who has been moved out of solitary but needs hygiene products and is trying to acquire new books for ongoing learning; you can read more, reblog, and find giving information here or purchase books from his wishlist here.

Buy Stuff, Help Out:

Anon linked to thelittlestpersimmon/Caleb, an artist who is offering commissions in return for $80+ donations to Palestinian causes. You can read more, reblog, and find giving information here.

Anon linked to mxwhore, who is splitting their Patreon commissions between Care for Gaza and Techo Chile, to help the ongoing crisis in Chile. You can read more and reblog here or (please note, the following link has an 18+ banner on it; minors should not click) support the patreon here

Recurring Needs:

Anon linked to a fundraiser for a friend whose family has not had a working furnace since November; they've been using space heaters to keep warm but January in Chicago has been brutal and the space heaters aren't sufficient. With vulnerable family members including elderly relatives and children in the home, they need to raise $6K to get the furnace replaced. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

Anon linked to karla-hoshi or Hoshi on TikTok, who is raising funds for cancer treatment for her cat Naku; they caught the cancer early and hope that he can survive it. You can read more and support the fundraiser here, as well as find links to her updates on tiktok.

chingaderita's partner's family house recently caught fire and completely burned, killing his grandmother and causing extensive property loss; he has also recently lost his job due to the fire, and a number of family members have since become ill. They're raising funds to keep food on the table, to try and get a supply of water to keep clean and do laundry, and for various bills. You can read more, reblog, and support the fundraiser here.

forlorn-kumquat is raising funds to get seating and storage for their third-grade classroom, to help their students learn comfortably. You can read more and support the fundraiser here.

And this has been Radio Free Monday! Thank you for your time. You can post items for my attention at the Radio Free Monday submissions form. If you're new to fundraising, you may want to check out my guide to fundraising here.

#radio free monday #charity #philanthropy #fannish community

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skyjynxart · 5 months

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Emergency Commission Sales

I- don’t know where to begin.

This started as a vet bill fund, but now the situation is just- so much worse, because when I arrived at work yesterday, I was told I am being let go. They were extremely unclear as to why exactly, but as I live in an at-will state, it doesn’t really matter.

I have no job, a massive vet bill to pay, a wisdom tooth coming in, and a car with no heat going into winter.

I don’t really know what I’m going to do beyond the immediate coverage of vet bills, because I submitted over 140 applications with no response before I finally heard back from this place- there are just more people looking for jobs than there are jobs remotely near where I live, but I can’t afford to survive, much less move.

Financial Details: One of my cats has one, possibly two abscessed teeth that need removed. I paid $260 for a vet visit, blood work, and antibiotics. I got the quote for what surgery will cost this morning, and they are estimating between $1,175 - $1,715, depending on if he needs both teeth taken out or just one.

I have been putting off my own wisdom tooth removal while I saved up for it, because it will cost $1,100

I don’t know how much it will cost to fix the heat in my car for winter.

My monthly expenses are $460/month because the cost of my medication has gone up after my sliding scale application was denied. I still have to pay $380 of those monthly expenses for November.

As of now, if I forgo my own dental care entirely, and empty my savings entirely, that will still leave me -$851 in the red. Anything that does not go to covering this month’s expenses and Severus’s vet fees will go to either next month’s expenses, or to saving for my own dental needs.

I will be figuring out a more sustainable plan over the next few days, but my current focus is on the immediate issue in front of me.

For the immediate moment, I am offering the following:

25% off my kofi shop using the code SEVVYTEETH . This goes until the end of the month. https://ko-fi.com/skyjynx/link/SEVVYTEETH

3 Commission Slots I will be opening 3 commission slots for ANY TYPE on my price sheet: https://skyjynx.carrd.co/#pricing Those 3 pieces will be started once I finish my current owed art [https://trello.com/b/TCd6yTnL/art-queue] (everything in ‘currently working on’) When those are all finished, I will open 3 more slots. I am more than happy to draw your OCs, your blorbos from games/tv/etc, or even spicy content (*some kinks at my discretion, but feel free to ask!)

REMINDER: Kofi & patreon subscribers have access to discounted pricing which can be found here: https://skyjynxcomms.carrd.co/

If you'd like to claim a commission slot you can do so by DM

If you just wanna toss some money my way, I do have a ko-fi for tips: https://ko-fi.com/skyjynx

Reblogs/boosting apprecaited. <3

#commissions #commission sale #commissions open #emergency #emergency sale #vet fund #please boost #signal boost

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cosmica-galaxy · 5 months

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I want to know how does the the human even befriend the mimics like how did they first met?

-PART 1- . Buddy: Buddy was not having a good time once he left his "pack" and took up the loner life as a peon. He had limited animals to eat, pigeons and rats mostly, and survival was costing him more energy to live every day. Every time he encountered and killed a skibidi, he would spend more energy and would even get wounded from time to time...but he refuse to eat the meat. No matter how hungry he was. . Him and the human met one November day, while it was snowing in the silent city. He grew weaker and was slowly losing the battle for survival, then that afternoon--he just collapsed into the snow and refused to move...deciding he had a good run and wanted to wait for death. The human then just happened to be crossing through the alley where he collapsed to shortcut their way back to base, only to find Buddy laying down in the snow. At first, they thought it was a cameraman that was downed from a scuffle with the skibidis, but once they realized it was one of those mimics, they cautiously approached. . Buddy was so weak that he could barely lift his head to look at them, looking just as surprised as they were. The human, ever caring and empathetic, felt bad for the mimic. Without much hesitation, the human worms their arms under Buddy and hauled him up over their shoulder. Before starting to make their way back to base in the snow. The human, at first, lies when questioned about the cameraman on their back, to which they say it was an injured unit and they were taking them to the medical bay. Which is how Buddy got inside the base. The human then took him to their room and laid him down before covering his cold body up and leaving to get him some food. . Once warmed up, Buddy was able to take in his surroundings and realized that he was brought somewhere warm and safe...and the human brought him some food too. That was when Buddy decided to follow the human forevermore. . Pal: Pal met the human sometime in the late winter and early spring, after hearing a pained cry come from somewhere where the sudden intruder in sanctuary was. The human had sprained their foot from a fall because they were running away from a group of skibidi during combat, which led them to tumble down and into "sanctuary", Pal's home. Most of the speaker mimics were startled by the fall and were hiding, but once Pal heard the human crying in pain, he approached. The human and him officially met when he managed to get close enough to analyze the smell of blood and the injury from the small...skibidi-like entity? He honestly didn't know what to make of them. . Pal and his clan met the human with curiosity and caution, but the human quickly grew on Pal as he tried to make sure they were comfortable while staying with the clan. They explained to Pal how they fell into their home and why. In which Pal responds by nodding and understanding the situation just outside their home. With some explanations on how to heal their sprain, the mimic then decides to venture out with the human in tow, to give them back to the alliance. After their brief meeting and successful recon, Pal and the human meet a few more times out in the wild before he decides to join their "pack" and leave for a more adventurous life outside the safety of sanctuary. . He still visits his older home from time to time, but it did get boring from time to time...and prey has gotten pretty limited. So what better place to look for more food than out in the beyond?

#haxorus imp #hax speaks #cosmica galaxy #cosmica-galaxy #anonymous #anon asks #anon ask #skibidi tag #skibidi toilet mimic #skibidi mimic

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 2 months

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KISSIN' BOOKS BY MERRY

Hello! I write queer, medieval romance books - and you can find them below. Currently, I'm working on the Hartswood series, which is three separate, standalone stories with connecting characters.

My books are available wherever books are sold, online, and in ebook/audiobook format.

One Night in Hartswood

Oxford 1360

When his sister’s betrothed vanishes the night before her politically arranged marriage, Raff Barden must track and return the elusive groom to restore his family’s honour.

William de Foucart ― known to his friends as Penn ― had no choice but to abandon his intended, and with it his own earldom, when he fled the night before his enforced marriage. But ill-equipped to survive on the run he must trust the kindness of a stranger, Raff, to help him escape.

Unaware their fates are already entwined, the men journey north. But amidst the snow-capped forests an unexpected bond deepens into a far more precious relationship, one that will test all that they hold dear. And when secrets are finally revealed, both men must decide what they will risk for the one they love…

You can read more about ONIH here!

And browse my ONIH tag here 💖

All the Painted Stars

The first sequel to One Night in Hartswood! Out 28th March in the UK and 5th November in North America.

Oxford 1362

When Lily Barden discovers her best friend Johanna’s hand in marriage is being awarded as a prize at a tournament, she is determined to stop it. Disguised as a knight, she infiltrates the contest to fight for Jo’s hand. But her conduct ruffles feathers, and when a dangerous incident escalates out of Lily’s control, Jo must help her escape.

Finding safety with a local brewster, Lily and Jo soon settle into their new freedom, and amongst blackberry bushes and lakeside walks an unexpected relationship blossoms. But when Jo’s past catches up with her and Lily’s reckless behaviour threatens their newfound happiness, both women realise that choices must always come at a cost...

You can read more about ATPS here!

And browse my ATPS tag here 💜

Watch this space for Hartswood Book 3, aka Ash's Book!

#queer books #romance books #housekeeping #dont mind me just doing some tidying up #for a post to be linked to in my bio etc etc #long post #writeblr

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thgfanfictionlibrary · 4 months

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Active Authors Masterlist (4)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 /

***Active (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer who has updated within the past year. Inactive (on this blog) is defined as a blog/writer that has not been updated at all in the past year+. On THG Writing Hiatus (on this blog) is a blog/writer who has updated within the past year but has not posted a fanfic in the fandom in the past year BUT they may return to writing in the future. Lists will be updated as needed based on activity. ***

Created: November 17th, 2023

Last Checked:----

Miss_Missy :: ao3

Popular Fic: Boy In The Bubble: The last thing Katniss expects to hear about her best friend Peeta is the fact that he not only got into a fist fight with one of the biggest guys in their school but also the fact that he quote “almost killed him”. Now Peeta is refusing to explain to her or his family what happened or why he punched Brutus in the first place. Katniss is trying her best to help but no matter what she does Peeta just keeps pushing her further away. All she wants to do is help, Katniss refuses to loose another important person in her life

Missgarfield :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Letters From New Panem: So you get an envelope telling you what happens to you three years from now. What's the worse that can happen? Name: Katniss Everdeen Ocupation: District huntress/bakery co-owner Marital Status: married Residency: Victors village,Number 12 Offspring: 0. (@periwinckles)

Mollywog :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: In Our Favor: “You have to marry him” Her heart sank. She already knew the truth of it, but had been holding hope that Haymitch would manage it. Caught in a compromising position, Katniss must decide how to navigate a potential scandal. (@mollywog)

monabus :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: The Ballad of Snares and Arrows: "At the end of the day, it’s no different. Hunting is hunting, regardless of what’s at the receiving end of Katniss’ arrow. All that matters is surviving, staying alive. No matter the cost. If I were in the Hunger Games, I would stop at nothing to make it out alive. And I know Katniss Everdeen. Survival is in her blood. When the time comes, she will kill." What was going on in Gale’s mind during the 74th Hunger Games? What exactly did the audience back in District Twelve see on their screens? A chance to explore the moments of the Games that Katniss never saw — all through Gale’s eyes. (@mona-bus)

mrsbonniemellark :: ao3, ff.net, tumblr

Popular Fic: Sexiled: Kicked out of her dorm room for the night, Katniss turns to Peeta for help.

MTK4FUN :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: It Takes A District: Summary: Thinking her mother is dying, Katniss Everdeen marries Peeta Mellark to keep her sister out of the Community Home. (@mtk4fun)

oakfarmer :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: Missteps: Gale needs to discuss future plans with Katniss. She's been hard to track down this particular Reaping Day. He hasn't even been able to congratulate her yet. (@oakfarmer)

purple_cube :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: things that you can't say tomorrow day: Katniss and Peeta’s conversation on the night of Finnick’s wedding stays with them for a long time. But slowly, they learn to move on. (@purple-cube)

RannonAce8 :: ao3

Popular Fic: Hidden on this Prairie: Katniss lost everything during the war: her home, her family, and her innocence. Now, just a few short years after Appomattox she finds herself dislocated yet again when a dispute with the landlord leaves her homeless and unemployed. A chance meeting with a stranger offers her a chance at a better life out west but Katniss has no inclination to ever be involved with a man again.

rosaeles :: ao3, tumblr

Popular Fic: all the version of me dead (and buried in the yard outside): “I’m here,” Peeta murmurs. “Brought you something to eat.” Katniss wants to reply. Would like to thank him for everything he’s doing. I missed you. She wants to yell it from the rooftops. Scream herself hoarse with it, but she doesn’t. Because her throat is rusted after weeks of barely using it, so all she says is; “Please don’t touch me.” Alternatively: After the events of Mockingjay, Katniss Everdeen struggles to come to terms with everything she has lost. Peeta is there to help her through it. (@rosaaeles)

#authors #active authors masterlist #active authors #everlark fanfiction #thg fanfiction #everlark #masterlist #thg

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thoughtfulfoxllama · 8 days

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My Pioneer Heritage

So, my Biological Family has pioneers in it. Matta Maria Rosenlund (who went by her Middle Name when she got to Utah) & her husband Daniel Dewey Corbett are among them

Daniel Corbett

Daniel was born in Maine on May 16 1807. He and his wife joined the Church in 1839. They moved to Nauvoo in 1844, and only learned about the Martyrdom when he was en route (which means, unfortunately, they never saw the Prophet personally). He was ordained as a Seventy when he arrived in Nauvoo, and used his skill as a Cobbler to help finish the Nauvoo Temple. They received their "partial Endowments" (I am unsure what this means, but if you're familiar with the Endowment, he got at least the Adam part) on January 12, 1846, before they & their family were forced from Nauvoo

They moved Kanesville, Iowa for years. They were able to plant & harvest their own crops, and even had a daughter who would later marry Martin Harris Jr. On July 5, 1849 the family joined the Allen Taylor company, and completed the journey to Salt Lake

When they arrived, they were allotted land between 4-5 East & 6-7 South. In the early years, he was extremely charitable (given the hardship of all the Saints during this era). He would make & mend shoes for little to no charge, collected firewood for widows, and gave what flour they could spare to those in need (they would take a brass kettle of flour to them as their Fast Offerings)

They wore homespun clothes, dying & spinning the yarn, then sending it to the mill to be made into cloth. They ate Pork, Cornbread, Jonnie Cakes, and Sugar Cane Molasses. They fasted on Thursday Morning (Fast Day was Thursday in the Early Church)

He lived close to the school, and was one of the few Saints who had a clock, so students were often sent to his home to determine the time. Daniel's family was unable to afford the 25¢ a week cost, so like many students, they paid it with vegetables

Daniel loved his wife, Elmira (born 1811). They were Sealed by Brigham Young on June 30, 1853. Unfortunately, she passed in February the next year. This lead Daniel to have to care for 6 children (ages 5-24, with the oldest being married the year before). He remarried Ann Jones, an English Convert, on November 8, 1861. Ann was married before she immigrated in 1849, but it is unknown if she was widowed or divorced. Ann had poor health, and was infertile. As her health became worse, she told Daniel to find a Second Wife, to help care for her & the 2 children left at home. This wife was Matta Rosenlund. Ann died in December 1888, and always held love for her sister-wife (although we know more about Elmira & Matta, Ann is relatively unknown, possibly because she had no children to tell her story. I hope, when the Resurrection occurs, I will be able to learn at the feet of the woman who brought my 3rd Great-grandmother into her family)

He lived many years, supporting his family, and living the Gospel until his passing on June 26, 1892. He was buried next to Ann

Matta Maria Rosenlund

Matta was born November 1, 1826 in Malmöhus, Sweden. She was the first born of Wilhelm Jonas Rosenlund & Boel Jonsson. She had 2 sisters & a brother: Anna (March 20, 1829-? She survived to Adulthood), Hannah (May 25, 1831- May 25, 1832), and Johan Wilhelm (April 10, 1834-October 2, 1836)

Both of her parents died of Cholera in Stockholm when she was 13, leading her & 10 year old Anna being placed in an Orphanage. Despite this, Matta (and presumably Anna) were educated at the King's School, given her father's illustrious military career (being the equivalent of a 4-Star General by age 30). After her education, she got a job in a bakery before marrying Ockar Victor Leonard Svansberg on May 29, 1849

Oscar was a French Sculptor & a Mason "of high degree." She was seen as more Spiritually inclined, while her husband was more Worldly. However, they were often seen together at high society events, such as Masonic Balls ("where Mr. Svansberg was usually the leader because of his pleasing appearance and personality")

Together, they had 4 Children in Stockholm: Victor Mauritz (June 25, 1850-), Maria Lovisa (July 4, 185è-), Oscar A. (1853-? Died in Infancy), and Hilma Ida Constance (May 4, 1863-)

Maria was a faithful Lutheran, but joined the Church in 1859. She spent the next 5 years trying to bring her husband to the Church. When he wouldn't join, she left him, and brought their daughters (Lovisa age 11, Ida under 1) to England with her. They sailed on the Monarch of the Sea under the direction of John Smith (Church Patriarch)

The journey was treacherous. They sailed from April 28, 1864 to June 3, 1864. There were 973 immigrants, and they were provided with little water and whatever provisions the Church could gather (Hardtack, Pork, Peas, and a little White Flour, Sugar, Coffee, and a few other things). The next day, they saw the logistical errors of feeding nearly 1,000 people when it took them 8 hours to get everyone Rice. It was also on this day the first baby died on Measles. Ida was the only baby to survive the voyage, with the other 20 either dying from the disease, or being thrown to sea. The Capitan was determined to throw Ida to sea as well, but Matta hid Ida in her Shawl. In addition to sickness, the sea was so violent that the sickbay was often full of people injured by being thrown around, and there were days when the cook was unable to safely cook (meaning there was no food those days)

After arriving in New York, she took a number of trains until she arrived in Nebraska. On July 4, 1864, Matta & her Daughters joined with the William B Preston Company, arriving in Salt Lake on September 15th, 1864. Her grandson reported that "although Zion did not appear to her as she had anticipated, she many times made the remark that when she set her feet on Utah soil it was the happiest moment of her life. The struggle to exist was a very difficult one, but she seemed obsessed with the desire to make good, and through toil, struggle, and undying faith she succeeded." Soon after her arrival, she heard from friends back in Sweden of the death of her husband

Her son, Victor wanted to join his mother & sisters on their journey, but was unable to due to his service in the Swedish Military. He arrived on July 14, 1877 (after a mere 3-weeks journey). He lived with his mother for 2 years, before disappearing without a trace

When in Utah, she became a Nurse, and helped Ann Jones. Ann & Matta (platonically) loved each other, and Ann asked Daniel to take Matta as a Plural Wife. This marriage resulted in 2 Children: George Q (November 28, 1866-September 20, 1867) & Otis (December 21, 1868-Febuary 4, 1940). Ann helped watch the Children when she was away from home, and adored all of Daniel's Children (as well as Matta's Children from her first marriage) like they were her own

Matta continued her career for over 20 years, sometimes accompanying Ella Shipp (honestly, I can write a whole essay about this badass female doctor, but you'll have to Google her for now). She was eternally optimistic, and was known for helping her patients recover rapidly. She delivered hundreds of children

I love learning about family history because of the lessons we can learn from those who came before

Daniel was a loving man. He never had much, but he was generous with what he did have. Maybe he only had a kettle of flour, but he gave that flour to those who needed it more. Although Matta's Children weren't his own, he loved them unconditionally, and gave whatever he could

Ann may have been infertile, and invalid, but she didn't let either stop her. She rejoiced in all the children of her husband's wives. She cared for them when she could muster up the strength

And Matta went through a lot. Orphaned at 13 & having to care for a sister, fearing having your daughter thrown overboard, having a son go missing without a trace, and being constantly surrounded by sickness. But she never lost hope. She was born in high society, and married into it. But her happiest moment was after she gave it up. She fought for everything she had, and that brought her joy, because she knew she had earned every blessing

I want these stories to be known. Every story deserves to be told, to live through the Ages, to inspire the Children of Men to do better

I want to hear your stories. I chose my Pioneer Ancestors because they speak to me the most. But I want to hear about the people who's stories you most value, whether your parents' story, or some obscure knight in the 12th century.

𐐔𐐰𐑌𐐷𐐲𐑊 𐐔𐐭𐐨 𐐗𐐫𐑉𐐺𐐮𐐻- 𐐕𐐰𐑉𐐮𐐻𐐨 𐐮𐑆 𐑄 𐐑𐐷𐐳𐑉 𐐢𐐲𐑂 𐐲𐑂 𐐗𐑉𐐴𐑅𐐻

𐐣𐐰𐐻𐐲 𐐣𐐲𐑉𐐨𐐲 Rosenlund (unsure how to pronounce her last name...)- 𐐆𐑁 𐐷𐐨 𐐸𐐰𐑂 𐑁𐐩𐑃 𐐰𐑆 𐐩 𐑀𐑉𐐩𐑌 𐐲𐑂 𐑋𐐲𐑅𐐻𐐲𐑉𐐼 𐑅𐐨𐐼, 𐑌𐐲𐑃𐐮𐑍 𐑇𐐰𐑊 𐐺𐐨 𐐮𐑋𐐹��𐑅𐐲𐐺𐐲𐑊 𐐲𐑌𐐻𐐭 𐐷𐐭

#mormon #lds #tumblrstake #queerstake #lds church #ldschurch #family history #pioneer heritage

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pxrxcxa · 2 years

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Opposite Ends

Chapter Six - A Deal, Harsh Words & A Mistake

C1 | C2 | C3 | C4 | C5 | C7 | C8 | C9 | C10 | C11 | C12 | C13 pt1 | C13 pt 2 |

Chapter Seven is out now, enjoy Sunflowers x 🌻

Pairing | Eddie x Female reader 18+. Steve x Robin x Female reader platonic friendship

Series summary | Dustins older sister got brought into the group during the events of Starcourt mall, 3 months on she's in her senior year and the kids are starting high school. After everything that went down she feels that she has to keep them safe at all costs, that includes keeping them way from the charismatic 'freak' Eddie Munson that runs a club based on their favourite game. They've both hated each other since freshman year -with good reason-, but when keeping distance between the kids and Eddie means putting herself in the firing line, boundaries get blurred, intentions get lost & the heart speaks louder than the brain.

The story is told from both Y/N & Eddies point of view.

What to expect | Slow burn enemies to lovers, Angst - with a happy ending, fluff & smut (in the later chapters). 18+ to read this story.

Series Warnings | Mentions of abuse, drug use, 18+ smut content

Chapter word count | 6.8 K Word Count.

Chapter warnings | Drug use, swearing

As always, any & all comments/reblogs are most appreciated - Love, P. x 🌿

Authors Note | As always, if you've read the entire chapter then thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it. Thank you also for being patient with me while I worked on getting this chapter out, I wanted to fine tweak it a bit, we are only a couple of chapters away now before picking up the S4 story line so stay tuned 🙂 take care Sunflowers 🌻 P. x

Y/N | November 1985

Eddie Munson had singularly, completely thwarted my carefully prepared plan to survive senior year.

Well, he’d disrupted it enough to throw off my whole routine anyway. I hadn’t intended to be spending my free Friday nights huddled in the shadows in Hawkins Highs drama room, tuning out the screams of delight and exclaims of surprise emitting from the table in the centre of the room as I skimmed through class textbooks, quickly losing interest and flipping back to which ever fantasy novel I had stowed away in my bag. But true to my word, I had escorted Dustin and his friends to each Hellfire meeting, stubbornly standing by my distrusting opinion of Eddie. No one argued against my presence, well not to my face anyway. All of the members collectively agreeing that my place was on the sidelines due to my absismal performance playing DnD, I had held no argument to that decision, more than happy to oblige and blend into the dusty props that adorned the sides of the room, almost becoming one myself.

Whenever the dungeon master’s gruff voice broke through the bubble of absorption in my own little corner, I would look up to watch him. Wondering how I ever only saw anger and hatred in this boy before. He was so full of life and light and happiness, a stark contrast to the dark vulgarity of my corrupted soul. We were each other’s opposites, both of us branded with complete contradictory reputations that neither of us earned or deserved.

A few weeks into following our usual agenda, it had dawned on me. As I fiddled with the charm on my necklace, running it up and down the chain, that I had seriously misjudged Edward Munson. He was rough around the edges sure, as most of us were –well we weren’t all drug dealers, but we definitely had our own demons. But he was good. Pure.

Hellfire meetings hadn’t become the only place I paid attention Eddie. I had watched in the cafeteria during lunch as he valiantly ran to the defence of some loner freshman to shield him from Jason and his cronies, putting himself in the firing line instead. Or when some stuck-up Cheerleader bumped into him in the hallway, sending her books flying. He had bent down automatically to gather her belongings and hand them back to her, a tentative smile on his face despite that fact that she had joined in on the mocking of Eddie ‘the freak’ more times than I could count. I had watched from the other side of the corridor as his fingers brushed hers, slamming my locker shut and storming off.

I began to see who Eddie really was when he thought no one was watching. He was too kind for his own good, and every time I watched some air headed jock slam into his shoulders as they crossed paths, or heard the word freak muttered around me, my anger grew.

But he wasn’t my friend, and I wasn’t his. The defending words that built in up in my throat begging to spring forth, never spurned from my lips when I was a witness to his torture.

At the end of the school year, I would be going off to college and Eddie would be -wherever he planned on ending up. Only if he managed to army crawl his way from a D in Mrs O’Donnell’s class though. The thought of offering to help tutor Eddie had briefly flashed in my mind, now having my own personal stake in the success of his graduation. If he didn’t leave this town when I did, he would be spending another year of school with my unaccompanied brother and his friends, the presence of Dustin’s overbearing sister no longer around to protect them. I wasn’t quite sure what I was shielding them from anymore, since the worry of Eddie exposing me had long since passed with time. But the deeply ingrained urge to keep them safe was still there, a lot of it probably caused from the events of Starcourt.

But tutoring Eddie meant I would be spending even more time with him. Alone time. My breathing had sped up as I pictured us huddled in the dark library, sitting close as he scooted closer to pay attention, his buoyant curls bouncing as he pretended to understand what I would be trying to teach him. An unfamiliar heat had spread through my body as I imagined what it would be like to be unaccompanied with him, the distractions of Hellfire and Jason and Mr Mundy miles away from us. We would finally be able to talk about what had passed between us in my bedroom and at Family video. I could force him to offer up an explanation for both, but with a bundle of nerves turning over in my stomach – I realised he could ask the same of me. With the offer of helping him pass senior year positively squished, the dangers of being too close to him running rampant in my mind, I did the next best thing I could think off. In Calculus, the only class we shared, I would slide my paper to the edge of my desk to show him the answers and Eddie would flash me a dazzling smile in return to say thank you, creating swirling butterflies in my stomach.

I wasn’t quite sure when it happened, the feelings of detestation towards him quietly slipping away, his kind smiles chipping away at the walls I held up against Eddie. But when I didn’t see him walk through the door of Mr Mundy’s classroom as the teacher handed out tests’ papers, the next morning after Hellfire, concern twisted in the pit of my stomach. Wondering what had hindered him from being on time for the exam, I was halfway raised out of my seat to go check behind the gym where he smoked to find him, before I realised what I was doing. My cheeks reddened as I shot back into my chair, confusion clouding my head as I mulled over my actions and their motive behind them.

I had begun to care about Edward Munson.

“Come onnnnn.” I yelled, banging on Dustin’s door. Unbelievable, I thought. It was ironic how our positions had traded. “We’re going to be late.” I walked back to my room further down the hall, swiping my keys off my freshly cleared desk and picking up my shoes.

“Relax.” He called through the door; his voice quietened through the thick wood of the frame. I met him in the hall as he wrenched his door open, wearing old pyjamas and his curls a mess from wearing his hat all day. His mussed sheets on his bed leaving contoured shapes of his body, evidently, he had just been lying on it.

“Eddie’s still out sick, so there’s no Hellfire meeting tonight.” He raised his eyebrows and grabbed the door frame, leaning towards me as he pursed his lips. My shoulders sagged unintentionally, his words sending disappointment to wash over me. My keys jingled as they slipped through my fingers and hit the floor, I bent down clumsily to grab them, quickly hiding my face in my hair as colour pooled in my cheeks, not wanting Dustin to misread my reaction.

“Oh.” I murmured as I stood back up to face him. He wiggled his eyebrows questioningly at me, waiting for a response with more emotion. I puffed air out of the corner of my mouth as I stuttered over my words.

“Okay then… I’ll just… head out with some friends, I guess.” I chewed the inside of my cheeks as I tried to move from the spot in the carpet I was frozen motionless to. The slight excitement quickly fleeing from my body and leaving a resolute emptiness in its wake. Dustin flashed me an uncertain grin.

“Thought you’d be happier to get your Friday nights back y/n.” He snapped me out of my thoughts.

“No, no I am. I just… yeah, I am. I’ll go see Steve and robin.” I said adamantly, half convincing myself, not as eager at the prospect of seeing my friends as I would normally be.

“Yeah well, tell that to your face.” Dustin remarked, nodding to my downtrodden expression. “Oh, I doubt Steve’s free by the way, unless the doofus already managed to screw it up. Apparently, he has another hot date.” I shrugged as I turned on my heels back to my room to change into something more ‘going out’ appropriate.

“I’ll visit Max then; I haven’t had the chance to catch up with her in a while.” My face burned as my ulterior motive chocked me. Even though he was supposedly sick, if I went to the trailer park, I might catch a glimpse of Eddie. Just to make sure he was truly unwell and not just faking it to get out of exams at school. He was graduating this year one way or another, so help me.

Dustin tossed his hair and slipped back into his bedroom, only to hastily pop his head back into the hallway. “Tell Max I say hi, oh Y/n, can you pick me something up to eat while you’re out?” He winked, clicked his tongue twice and threw a ‘finger gun’ my way.

“Sure.” I called back, heading to my dresser and ripping open messily cluttered draws, searching for my favourite pair of flared jeans.

Ten minutes later I was burrowing down in my car idling in the driveway, waiting for the engine to warm up. I pulled my new sweater tighter around me as the oncoming winter air snuck through the air vents. Tossing and turning over the choice between driving to Robins or to the trailer park. A berating headache started to pound from behind my eyes, making me reach for the radio to turn up the music, my favourite tape already geared up to play. But as the music swelled in the car it didn’t help numb the pain away as it usually had the past few weeks. I turned it off completely after a few moments of frustration.

In the thick silence closing in around me it was harder to ignore my thoughts. I couldn’t deny that I was irritated that I wouldn’t be attending Hellfire tonight. But that was only because it disrupted my usual routine, and I liked structure and order.

I wasn’t upset for any other reason, there wasn’t any.

I snaped my visor up in annoyance as the blatant lie scrawled its way across my face, obvious to even my own eyes. Sighing in defeat I slid the gear box into reverse and rumbled down the driveway, turning left down the road, speeding off to the smarter – safer – choice.

Eddie had returned to school that following Monday, adorning his usual swagger and unique style. Seeing him had sent a fresh wave of air into my lungs, like I had been holding my breath and he had been the relief I was looking for. I buried myself in my locker as he passed me in the hallway, not wanting him to see how his presence affected me. His woodsy scent washed over me like a warm blanket as he strolled by, and after being sure he far away enough to not catch me gawking, I looked up just in time to see his bushy mane of brown curls disappear around the corner. He was wearing the same red flannel from the night I caught him in my room, the memory stirring an immoral feeling in my abdomen.

The sight of him reminded me of the now nearly empty baggie in my side table draw. Eddie had been right, once I reverted back to my usual intake and not continued to overdo it to the point that I had been hallucinating movie characters coming to life at Family Video, his weed had lasted me a while. But I was coming up to needing a refill and now seemed as good a time as any to see him. My thoughts turned over as I contemplated where to approach him, Hellfire was a no brainer for obvious reasons, and getting caught doing a drug deal on school grounds wasn’t going to play out well for either of us.

As the second bell rung, I quickly ripped the corner of a page from the note book I was holding, leaning it up against my locker as I scribbled out a request. I slung my bag higher up on my shoulder and made a beeline for Eddie’s locker, shoving the note through the open slats. I hurriedly looked around the now almost deserted hallway to make sure no one seen me and jogged off in the opposite direction to my next class, a lump of nerves forming in my throat.

Eddie | November 1985

The gravel under my feet crunched as I made my way across the school field, leaving the loud chorus of voices in the gym behind me. Grateful that I had worn both my leather jacket and vest over my shirt, as the looming winter air bit at my exposed skin. I had a pretty damn good idea about who left the note in my locker, there weren’t many people with handwriting as neat as that and would ask me to meet them. Still, I was always prepared for the worst, and if this was a trick from Jason and his bumbling band of morons, I had my handy pocketknife that my father had left me, safely stowed away in the lining of my vest.

The note didn’t specify where to meet, but everyone knew the clearing where a weathered picnic table sat, even if no one went out there anymore. I used my hands to catapult myself over the chain link fence at the end of the field, heading towards the familiar break in the tree line that gave way to a treaded path. As soon as I was emersed in the towering greenery, my body automatically relaxed, the clumps of trees blocking out the light and whipping wind. Animal life scuttered away from my heavy footfalls as my shoes crunched dead leaves strewn across the trail.

I faltered as I reached the end of the track, peeking through the swaying branches into the clearing. Y/n was seated on the bench alone, fiddling with her necklace again as she shook both of her knees impatiently, awaiting my arrival. An eager grin plastered itself on my face as I strolled over to her position, the grass in the meadow silenced my footsteps. Y/n spun around suddenly as I approached her, a slight shriek escaping her lips as she almost knocked into me. I reached out to grab her upper arms to steady her, dropping them back to my sides instantly before a look of disgust could come over her at the thought of being touched by Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson.

“Woah hey hey hey. Sorry” I chuckled, holding my hands up to show y/n I meant no harm. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” My smile slowly faded from my face as I looked her up and down. Y/n’s breathing was heavy, and she was slightly shaking.

“You okay?” Concern filled my question. She looked back over her shoulder at a cluster of trees, tears brimming in her eyes.

“Ye- yeah.” She muttered, pulling her thin sweater around her. My eyes trailed across her exposed collar bones as it tightened across her chest. I averted my eyes out of respect and brushed past her, slamming my metal lunch box onto the table in front of us, gesturing for her to retake a seat across from me. I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it onto the tabletop, swinging my legs over the bench one at a time.

“There’s uh, nothing to worry about okay.” Her eyes were glued to the empty space ahead of her as I spoke, refusing to look at me. “Nobody ever comes out here.” I pressed on with no luck. I snapped open the lid of the lunchbox and she swivelled her head around at the sound to meet my eyes. An appealing blush crept up her cheeks as she held my gaze, both of us refusing to look away.

“We’re safe.” I smirked at her, y/n’s stare fell to her hands in her lap as she cocked any eyebrow, apparently not believing me.

“I promise.” I said honestly, wanting her to look back up so I could read the thoughts brewing behind her pretty eyes. They fluttered up through her long eyelashes to glance at me briefly before letting them fall back down. She took a deep breath to steady herself and straightened her posture to face me.

“So how is this going to work with you exactly?” She asked, leaning forward to place her elbows on the table, folding her head in her hands. I cupped my hands around my own arms and moved away from her sudden closeness. I didn’t know if I imagined it, but I thought I saw a brief flicker of disappointment flash across her features.

‘Ahh, just how it was with Reefer Rick.” I shrugged my shoulders, glancing around. “No cash, no receipts. Except, just better-looking company of course.” I looked back at her with a mischievous smile, wanting to stoke her out of her apparent black mood.

She matched my wide smile with a small one of her own. “Okay, I can live with that.” Her light laughed twinkled across the clearing, causing birds in nearby treetops to take flight as the sound disrupted them.

“You know,” she continued, averting her gaze to trace the outline of the tattoo of my bats on my arm. “You’re not what I thought you’d be like.” Her tone made it clear that she hadn’t developed that opinion of me in the last five minutes.

“Mean and scary?” I teased, wrapping a piece of hair around my fingers, thinking back to each moment I had caught her staring at me in Hellfire meetings.

“Yeah.” She breathed, biting down on her lower lip as her gazed turned back to mine. The sight knotted my stomach in an uncomfortable way, I twisted my rings to distract myself.

“Yeah, well, I actually kinda thought that you’d be mean and scary too.” I nodded, placing my chin in my hands to match her. Surprise flashed in her eyes like she was astounded anyone could have had that opinion of her.

“Me?” She questioned, narrowing her eyes at me, her face falling in seriousness.

“Terrifying.” I provoked her jokingly, a sweet smile lighting up her face at my playfulness. A comfortable silence fell around us as she clasped her hands together, “Like I told you, flattery works with me so, twenty-five percent discount for the half. You’re robbing me blind here y/n.” I tossed the bag in between us.

She pulled more than enough cash from her pocket and dopped onto the table next to the bag, but still didn’t respond for a minute, I wondered if she’d heard me correctly. I cocked my head to the side to get a better look at her face. Maybe she wasn’t used to her dealers being so friendly, after all she had been picking up from Reefer Rick. I chided myself for getting too comfortable. Even with that realisation in place, the words couldn’t help themselves as they tumbled from my mouth.

“You know, we knew each other before High School.” I told her as I tapped my fingers against the wooden table. Her eyes shot up to see if I was serious.

“Really?” She asked disbelievingly, staring into my face like she was searching for something.

“You don’t remember?” I gasped, pretending to be hurt by the fact. She started to apologise uncertainty before I cut her off. I wasn’t surprised, girls like y/n didn’t look twice at guys like me.

Pretending to stab myself through the heart, I shot backwards from the table. Sprawling through the autumn leaves as they latched themselves into my knotty hair.

“I wouldn’t remember me either y/n.” I bellowed as I swiped dirt and leaves off my shirt. “Honestly – do I have stuff in my hair?” I turned back to her to see y/n doubling over in laughter. “You don’t remember me?” I repeated, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I’m sorry.” She spluttered out between bursts of laughter, her face darkening as she struggled to breathe.

“Middle school – talent show.” I reminded her gently, waiting to see if she would click onto it. She shook her head slightly, pursing her lips faintly as she tried to remember. “You were doing this cheer thing.” I poorly imitated shaking fake pom poms in the air causing a small giggle to burst through her lips. “It was pretty cool actually , and I was with my band-“

“Corroded Coffin!” She interrupted me, pushing her hands against her face. I clapped my hands and spun in a circle.

“Good girl, you do remember.” Our eyes briefly met as an uneasy feeling stirred in my stomach at the expression on her face.

“Of course, with a name like that how could I forget.” She palmed the side of her brow, tossing her head in disbelief.

“I don’t know, you’re a freak.” I laughed as I lightly beat my fists into a tree, I cut my words short as I noticed she fell silent again. I turned slowly to face her, worried about what I might find. But she just smiled at me endearingly and opened her mouth like she wanted to say something.

She gasped as her hands flew up to her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She held a finger up to stop me when I went to see if she was okay, rubbing circles along her temples. I hummed a soft tune to fill the awkward silence, waiting until she moved her hands and smiled up at me.

“I noticed that you haven’t been doing the Cheer thing lately y/n...” I asked her the open-ended question, seeing if she would allow herself to let me see a little into her private life. Her expression became guarded like she was waiting for me to deliver bad news. When I didn’t say anything, she answered me.

“Yeah uh, Jason – especially Jason.” She drawled out his name, dripping it in venom and making me curious about the story behind it. “-and his crew, the other cheerleaders… they aren’t good people.” She looked at me suddenly with guilt in her eyes, leaning forward on her toes, her doe eyes pouring into my face as she waited for my response.

I shrugged and expelled an uncomfortable laugh, avoiding her gaze, not wanting to see the pathetic sympathy I knew was layered in her iris’s. “Yeah well, they are jerks I guess, but they’re amongst my best customers – so, can’t hate them too much.” I waited for her to join in on my laughter, but it wasn’t forth coming.

“Are you kidding me?” She spat, I whirled back to her, surprised at her angry tone. Examining her face for enlightenment to explain her outraged reaction. Last I checked, I was the one being tormented by the whole basketball team, and she was the one cheering for them.

“What?” I asked innocently, she stared daggers at me as she clenched her fists at her sides, her nails digging into the milky flesh of her palms. It took her a moment to formulate the words.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Why the hell do you sell to them, after everything they’ve done to you – everything they continue to put you through, and you help them out? What the fuck is wrong with you Munson?” Her venomous words contorted her face in an ugly way, she didn’t suit the rage colouring it now. Without realising it, over the past few weeks her angry mask had slipped a bit, letting the y/n I saw in the family photo shine through. That moment of vulnerability was gone now as she shoved herself away from the table.

“You’re mad at me?” I scoffed scathingly, raising my eyebrows tactlessly. “You’re seriously mad at me? You have no idea what you’re talking about y/n. We don’t all live perfect lives and have mommy and daddy pay for everything.”

My words burned falsely on the way out, I didn’t know the circumstances surrounding her father except that he wasn’t around, but in the heat of the moment I didn’t care.

“We can’t all have our whole damn life planned out for us and never have to worry about a damn thing. Some of us need to work our own way up in the world y/n. If that means I have to sell to a couple of loser addicts y/n, then so be it. You don’t know a damn thing about me.” I shouted my words straight at her, the pain flashing across her face sending a double-edged sword of pleasure and regret through me. The remaining birds in the trees flew off screeching as my yell echoed around us. My chest heaved as my breathing deepened, trying to calm myself so I could apologise for my last jab of lumping her into the same category as the basketball team. But as fresh tears welled in her eyes, she snatched her bag from the ground and stormed off away from me, ignoring me as I called out after her.

My gaze fell to the bag of weed left behind on the table, humiliation washing over me as silence fell once more in the beautiful meadow, the angry words we hurtled at each other rang in my ears over and over. As I closed my eyes, the image of y/n’s hurt face burned behind my eyelids.

Y/N | November 1985

I barely made it out of the cluster of trees and back to the school field before the hot tears fell down my cheeks, blurring my vision and causing me to trip on some uneven ground. Deciding it would be better for everyone involved, as blind rage simmered beneath the surface of my fragile pretence, I headed straight to the school carpark, choosing to skip out on the rest of the day’s classes. Mike and Lucas would just have to piggyback Max and Dustin home on their bikes. I was in no condition to drive myself, letting alone having their lives in my hands as well.

It was all too much, the blistering headache insistently pounding behind my eyes mixed with the frustration of the day had sent me over the edge. Seeing that Eddie cared less about being bullied than I did for him was excruciatingly infuriating. He deserved better, and the fact that he shrugged off Jason’s taunts like it was nothing was more than I could handle. And, I thought derisively as I slid into the stuffy front seat of my unlocked car, to top it all off - I was practically out of weed, my refill sitting on top of the picnic table in the clearing I had just stormed out off.

I drove home manically, in a rush to suffocate my relentless thoughts, glad there were no police patrol cars hovering around. I was halfway through my front door before I groaned, remembering that I was also supposed to drive Robin home. Our Friday night hangout had turned into a full-blown weekend long sleepover, I’d decided that I needed 24-hour supervision to keep me from doing something stupid, although those efforts were worthless as I’d still managed to embarrass myself today. Robin had been happy to oblige without needing to hear the whole story. It was one of the traits I valued most about her, having my back one hundred percent of the time against problems I hadn’t confided in her yet. I’d practically moved half my stuff in over the few days I was at hers, I had planned to retrieve everything after dropping her home today.

I gave up on the thought of heading back as I was in no mood to get in my car and fight the school traffic, I made a mental note to call Steve and ask him to drive her home for me. Stomping straight to my room my mom called out to me, wondering why on earth I was home so early. I slammed my door behind me and locked it quickly, ignoring her questions as she followed me down the hallway. For the first time in months, I was able to cross my floor without watching my step – most of my clothes that usually cluttered it were now decorating the floor at Robin’s house. I let my bag slip off my shoulder and ripped open the draw of my side table. I perched on the edge of my bed as I quickly chopped up the remaining nug in the baggie, pushing my room window as far as it would go to let some fresh air in, eagerly awaiting the soon promised guaranteed bliss as I rolled up. The painful memories of the day nipping at my heart, begging to be subdued.

Stupid, this is so stupid. My high was starting to wear off as I drove in the smothering darkness towards the trailer park, my nerves hiking up with each mile that brought me closer to my destination. In the warm light of my bedroom, swooning in the smoke and smell of weed, driving to Eddie’s this late at night had seemed like a perfectly fine idea. Even though the joint had done its job of washing away my embarrassment over what happened in the woods, it hadn’t done as nearly an effective job of stifling my headache completely. With each pound that returned to beat on my skull, I knew I wasn’t going to make it through the night without assistance.

After my outburst I didn’t think Eddie would look at me at school again, nor would I probably be welcome back at any Hellfire meetings anytime soon. I panicked as I imagined his reaction to me turning up at his doorstep this late at night, and alone. The slight drops of rain that had dampened my shoulders as I ran to my parked car in my driveway at home, had turned into a constant down pour, causing me to slow my driving so I didn’t miss the turn off.

I flicked off my headlights as I noticed Max’s trailer still had their porch light on, not wanting to draw their attention. Parked in front of the weathered trailer across from Max’s, was Eddie’s van. I let my Ford crawl to a stop just behind it, killing the engine as soon as I slid it into park. I wasn’t worried about running into any nosey parents, I vaguely remembered Dustin mentioning an uncle that Eddie lived with that worked nights at the plant. I was, however, apprehensive about someone being a witness to my attendance here, not needing to imagine the rumours that would fly around the town of Hawkins.

For a fervent moment that set my heart beating rapidly and my skin aflame, I allowed myself to picture the fantasises behind those non-existent rumours. I glanced up at the blue and white worn wood panelling of the Munson trailer, the shadow of said star of the rumours hulking behind a window. I clenched my sharp nails into my palms to clear my head of the improper thoughts, trying to focus on what I came here to do.

Taking a deep breath and steeling myself, I jumped from my car and sped across their yard, holding my arms above my head to protect it from the heavy rain. I spurred forward up the rickety wet front steps, the rain drenching me in the mere seconds I was exposed. My loud footsteps echoed across the deck and the golden light seeping through the front window casted a long shadow of my frame across their lawn cluttered with beer cans. I paused with my hand raised in the air ready to knock, fear shooting through my body as I second guessed myself. I just started lowering my arm and half turned to run back to my car as the door was wrenched open, spilling a flood of light over me. I shielded my eyes as they adjusted. The smell of leather, cigarettes and mint overwhelmed me, my mouth practically salivating at mixture.

“Y/n?” Eddie exclaimed, pulling a cigarette from the corner of his mouth and blowing the smoke in my face. “What are you doing skulking around like a creeper out here?” My face blazed with embarrassment at the truth in his words. The glowing light behind his head outlined all the whipsy hairs running away from his freshly washed head of curls. I faltered over my words.

“I… I came to talk.” He scoffed and leant back on his heels, resting his hands on his belt, the pressure of them lowering the pant line of his jeans even further. I gulped and looked away, my cheeks burning and my thoughts blurring together. I tried to form a sentence that didn’t construe me as an idiot. Eddie crossed his arms and towered over me, raising his brows as he waited for me to continue.

“To talk or get drugs?” He snapped, annoyance darkening his sharp features. I let out a shaky breath, trying to calm my frayed nerves.

“To talk.” I promised, admitting the truth to both of us. Drugs might have gotten me into my car and drove me over here, but it was the need to explain myself to him that kept me here now. His dark eyes assessed me intensely, sending stabs of wanting through my frame, I doubted leaving was even an option for me anymore. “Can I come in?” I pleaded, crossing my arms across my chest, strategically placing them under my breasts to make them more prominent. His eyes flittered down from my face for a quick moment, clenching his jaw. He straightened against the door frame, sweeping his hand across the small space in front of him.

“Be my guest.” He sung sarcastically, I shuddered as I brushed past his thinly clothed chest, the heat radiating off of him sending goosebumps up my arm. I thought he inhaled deeply as I passed him but as I turned to look at him curiously, he was already facing away from me, closing the door behind us.

I inhaled a deep breath, immersing myself in my surroundings. Eddie had infiltrated my childhood bedroom, learning far more about me than I knew about him, I tried to soak up as much as I could before Eddie could steal my attention and demand to know what I wanted. There were trucker hats covering each inch of the interior living room walls and a soft glow emitting from a reading lamp next to a comfy looking chair. Against the furthest wall, was an aged couch shaped from the outlines of a person lying on it for many years. A small kitchen was separated from the living room by a sticky island bench cluttered with more beer cans and open packets of food.

“Sorry for the mess – maid took the week off.” He joked without a smile on his face, he turned on his heels down the hallway, leaving me alone in the middle of the room. Unsure if he intended for me to follow or not, I hesitantly trailed after him, passing a bathroom and what I assumed was his uncle’s room until we reached the end of the hall. He pushed the door open further and collapsed onto his bed, reaching for an acoustic guitar as he shuffled across his messy sheets. I halted in the doorway, staring around the room, the smell of weed in the air was no doubt a permeant fixture in here. Multitudes of band posters covered his walls; similar looking magazines littered his floor, his bed side table was bestowing a full ashtray, nudie mags – and a blue box of trojan condoms. My breath caught in my throat as heat flooded my face. Swivelling my eyes away they landed on the wall opposite me, a pair of dangling metal handcuffs hung from a nail. My legs felt like they’d turned to jelly, my headache pounding with full force.

Eddie strung a couple of strings on his guitar, sending a sweet sound to rebound around the room, my headache slightly subsided as the music swirled around my ears. “So?” He probed, I met his eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, feeling very vulnerable in his territory. He extinguished his cigarette in the ashtray, as he leant over to his side table his shirt rode up, exposing a strip of pale skin near his abdomen. My stomach flipped at the sight, I trailed my fingertips up and down my arm in a self-soothing motion. His sharp eyes didn’t miss it.

“What’s up y/n?” He asked, his tone a little kinder than before.

“I wanted to apologise.” I let my words hang in the air between us, waiting for an ‘Eddie’ like response.

“That wasn’t an apology.” He didn’t blink as he stared me down unwaveringly, not a trace of any of the friendly smiles he had been so generous with earlier in the day, on his face.

“No, yes... I guess you’re right. Eddie.” I took a deep breath as the words rushed from my mouth. “I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you earlier, you were right. I don’t know you, and I have no right to judge.” My eyes flickered to the bag of weed sitting on his dresser, recognising it as the one he had offered to me earlier. “Definitely no right to judge.” I confirmed. “I was just having a really bad day and seeing the way those assholes treat you drives me crazy.” Before the last few words left my mouth, Eddie had slid his instrument off his lap and practically flew across the room at me. I backed off impulsively, bumping against the dresser. The expression on his face terrified me in an exciting way as he practically pinned me against the piece of furniture at my back, leaving barely inches between our bodies.

“Y/n.” He sighed, staring at my lips. I trembled as my heart hammered loudly in my chest, creating choruses of embarrassing noises as my breathing spluttered. His sweet breath mingled with mine, making my head swim. I was transported back to the night of us in my bedroom, except there was no Dustin – there was nothing – to interrupt us now. His long eyelashes tickled his cheeks as his gazed lowered, his dark eyes pouring into mine.

“You have nothing to apologise for, I said some really hurtful shit to you, stuff that wasn’t true and I’m sorry for that. You just pissed me off.” His hand curled around the edge of the dresser, tightening it to the point his knuckles were completely white as he hurried through his words. “You just always know exactly what to do to piss me off, let me make it up to you.” He slid his arm further behind me, bringing his face even closer to mine as I felt his hand slide down in my back pocket. Practically on the point of fainting from dizziness, I noticed his lips were coming closer. Just as my quivering lips brushed his soft ones, I tripped forward slightly on the balls of my feet – I realised with horror that I had been the one moving forward to close the distance between us, while Eddie had remained rooted to the spot, confusion and doubt furrowing on his brow as he watched me come closer.

I felt like I had been drenched in ice water, shoving him out of the way I fled from his room, tearing down the hallway and virtually skipping the front steps of his deck entirely, mortification throbbing through me as I fumbled with my car keys. I almost ripped the door handle off in my hurry to hide behind the dashboard of my car. I had barely slid it into reverse before my foot slammed down on the accelerator, dousing Eddie in light as he faltered at the front door, my name hanging on his lips.

Discreetness completely forgotten, I tore out of the trailer park, swinging the back end of my car out as I swerved onto the main road. Something dug underneath me, and I reached down to pull the bag of weed I had spotted in his room, out of my back jean pocket. I dropped it down between the seats as a surge of humiliation smothered me.

I pushed my car to its limits, begging to whatever sick, higher power that was playing games with my life - that further I got away from Eddie the further I would escape the shame of my mistake.

Chapter Seven

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