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#1996 Question and Answers
vijayadworld · 6 months
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Arbitration And Conciliation Act, 1996 Question and Answers
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zyanova · 2 months
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How do you feel about Stu/Sidney as a couple?
HOW DID YOU FIND ME
HOW DID YOU KNOW I LIKE SCREAM
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gh05tb0y · 1 year
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Stu, pointing: May I sit there? Billy: That's my lap Stu: That doesn't answer my question, Billy.
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aquariuminfobureau · 20 days
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Less famous than Nick Dakin's two previous Interpet titles, is this 1996 work, titled The Interpet Questions & Answers Manual of the Marine Aquarium. Though this volume, which is part of a series of books, in not much more recent than his earlier books on this subject, it does have a much more contemporary feel to it. Though needless to say, it feels old fashioned in parts.
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The graphic design is excellent, even by the standards of Interpet. Photographs and diagrams adorn the pages alongside useful charts and informative text boxes. Before the author moves onto the animals, he presents pages on the subjects of setup and maintenance, including water changes and fish health.
He even dedicates pages onto the subjects of moving home and going on holiday. These problems are often asked of retail store staff, and aquarium magazine columnists. Each of the headings is accompanied by its own, pragmatic series of questions and answers, as you would expect, per the title of the book. Clearly designed with beginners in mind, the format achieves well what it's concept set out to do.
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Whereas British books had previously mentioned 'live rock' only on passing, Dakin by 1996 dedicates pages to this nowadays ubiquitous, but problematic approach to reefkeeping. Which is equivalent to dumping mud from a South American stream into a blackwater tank. It never really made much sense to me, for a few reasons, even though people did (and do) swear by live rock with protein skimming, often without other filtration.
As presented below, good quality live rock can introduce fascinating inhabitants for free, and be aesthetically stunning. However this example is atypical in its being so photogenic. When live rock is exported to us, it is removed from the water, causing deaths among the organisms. The delayed decomposition of boring organisms such as sponges, can even pollute and 'crash' a tank after it appears permanently cycled.
The stressful and lethal process of curing the live rock, effectively filters out all but the toughest organisms. And unknown organisms that are tough, might be resilient and damaging - think of rats, mice, cockroaches, kudzu, cane toads, and indeed humans, as invasive organisms. This is surely the number one pathway by which Aiptasia sp. colonises our aquariums for instance.
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By 1996 the Brits were not only learning about live rock, but also the debate about sand beds in reef aquariums. For the welfare of certain animals, a substrate is obviously essential. Without a substrate one cannot keep jawfishes, sleeper gobies, snapping shrimp, fighting conches, sand sifting starfishes, and the like. Some sessile animals and macroalgae also prefer or require siting on a sand or similar substrate.
However a bottom scouring system is otherwise worth considering, to prevent detritus from accumulating at the bottom of the aquarium. Calcareous sand (and rocks) also assist with maintaining the correct water chemistry, so a volume of an appropriate sand definitely has its benefits. There is a risk of a sulphur smell and a tank crash if dirt accumulates in the sand, however, so the substrate should not be too deep, either.
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By 1996 British aquarists were shifting their attention, from big tangs, angelfishes, groupers, puffers, and triggers, onto smaller fishes creating less bioload for filtration systems. Or was Dakin writing with the US audience in mind? Either way, the US was ahead and the UK was catching up, though in my opinion, it's only after 2000 that home 'reefing' really caught on.
So that when Dakin dedicates pages to wrasse, he presents them in two separate size classes. As with the concept of a dwarf cichlid in the freshwater side of the hobby, dwarf wrasse are certainly not a phylogenetic grouping or clade. Earlier books by Dakin, Mills, and other authors, had not treated dwarf wrasse as distinct from larger wrasse
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Strange as it sounds, British aquarists in the 1990s were not really aware, of the omnivorous natures of Centropyge sp. angelfishes, nor of certain other fishes such as blennies. When the behavior was reported in magazines, it tended to be dismissed as a behavioral aberration, an opinion admittedly supported by the fact some of these fish are observed to 'take nips' at corals and clams more than others, even within a species.
In fact stable isotopes provide powerful evidence, that wild Centropyge sp. habitually consume sessile fauna, beyond the incidental but nutritionally important ingestion of epibionts on algae. By 1996 British authors were coming round to this realization. Centropyge will not bother corals with powerful stings, such as Euphyllia sp. but are definitely capable of bothering corals and clam mantles.
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Following the introductions to the different groupings of marine fishes, are those to the world of coral and other 'invertebrates'. These follow the same format of questions and answers, as do the pages on the fishes and throughout the book. Compared to Dakin's earlier titles, much more effort is spent on the subject of the corals. Already in the later 1990s, British retailers and home aquarists were getting more 'clued up' about coral and anenone care. As were book authors.
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That an aquarium book organize ornamental animals as 'invertebrates' is expected. However a reference to Phylum Crustacea is unexpected in 1996, with it being a reference, surely, to past ideas about arthropod polyphyly, according to which insects evolved separately from velvet worms and also perhaps leeches. This is disproven, arthropods are instead a monophyletic group, velvet worms are their sister, and leeches are related to earthworms.
It seems especially silly nowadays because insects nest among the traditional crustaceans. Which has received a phylogenetic definition that has been falsified, by the phylogenetic placement of the insects. Like 'invertebrate', the word 'crustacean' makes sense as a historical and legacy term only. Dakin's use is equivalent to the multicrustaceans, and would properly exclude ostracods, fish lice, cladocerans such as Daphnia, and the clam, fairy and tadpole shrimp, such as Artemia and Triops.
As regards Dakin's choice of 'crustacean' species, it is oddly old fashioned. Hermit crabs are represented only by the showy Dardanus, not the ubiquitous little scavengers that are traded much, much more often today. Similarly in his pages on gastropods, he still features the tiger cowrie but not the small trochoids, that are surely the most popular snails in our tanks nowadays.
Without a mention of the standard 'CUC' assemblage, this '90s book feels decidedly old fashioned. I do however agree with Dakin, that detrivorous brittlestars are the most efficient 'janitors' for our tanks. They can reach and access food that other scavengers are likely unable to, and each brittlestar has the biomass and food requirements of several little hermit crabs. I am also fond of their appearance and behaviors
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Cephalopods fascinate the public, and Dakin features armored nautiluses, cuttlefishes, and octopuses. Following a cliche he predictably tells us to avoid buying the notorious blue ringed octopuses, genus Hapalochlaena, only because of their venom. The personal risks can be avoided with carefulness, simply by not sticking bare hands into the aquarium, being the primary method to avoid envenomation.
Blue ringed octopuses are in fact a manageable size for aquarists, and because they are a staple species in behavioral research, their proper care is extremely well studied. Other than their venom, there are probably no better octopuses for the aquarist when they are available in the trade.
Reportedly they have even been housed alongside fishes, though I don't have details as to which fish. Planktivores significantly larger than the octopus would neither bother it, nor would they regard one another as potential prey. Incidentally, there is more than one species of Hapalochlaena, not one.
Dakin mentions in his page on cuttlefishes that they should not share aquariums with fishes. He is very wrong on this. Nowadays and for quite a while, it has been standard for public aquariums to house cuttles together with fishes, although tankmates must of course be selected with care
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Another old fashioned aspect of the books, is the advocacy of a trap device to remove helpful bristleworms. Bristleworms vary in their feeding ecology, but the ones in our tanks are in fact very helpful scavengers. The reputation of bristleworms as harmful on the whole, is attributed to a subclade named the fireworms.
These are destructive corallivores, and furthermore their bristles are toxic to man upon contact, creating a namesake burning sensation. It's amazing how paranoid some people can be about benign reef fauna, yet advocate the use of live rock which is how they arrive.
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stupidppenguin · 3 months
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pookie whats ur least favorite musical??
OH FUCK UHH THATS A HARD QUESTION dont know if this counts but matilda (the 2022 film though, ive never actually seen the musical before, just the film.)
but the first matilda film is OMG.<3 so perfect
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sumquiasum · 5 months
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3, 7, 23?
3: A foreign language film
Daaaaaalí! (2023) is a surreal comedy that just keeps and keeps and keeps going and going and going. Cannot be explained, has to be seen.
El niño pez (2009) was one of the first queer movies that gave me that "what do you MEAN this has been Out There the entire time and I didn't know about it???" feeling.
If you are at all interested in torture porn, I recommend Život i smrt porno bande (2009). A Serbian Film clearly copied the core idea of this one but removed all the charm and political commentary.
7: A film in your native language
Des Teufels Bad is one of the best historical movies I've seen. You can tell just how much research went into it and the setting feels very lived-in.
Cocoon and Futur Drei are two very different queer coming of age films, both good.
Alles Wird Gut is one of my recent favourites, lesbian romcom from the 90s with two black leads.
Cannot have German recs without Welt am Draht. One of the best German movies ever made imho. Also inspired my favourite Arctic Monkeys album.
23: A film that was a box-office flop
Hot take but Argylle was fun. Also copied The Winter Soldier which is a point in his favour. I hope it will find its audience and won't just drift into obscurity.
Looking into box office flops for this made me realise Kubo and the Two Strings flopped at the box office?? One of my favourite animated movies I've seen in a while.
Ask me a number and I'll respond with a movie recommendation
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weltato · 1 year
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What are your thoughts on the 1996 wind in the willows (Aka Mr. Toads wild ride)
I have no thoughts...
Only because I've never read/watched it 😅
I could have made a "head empty" joke here but I felt that was in poor taste. So, yeah, sorry about the long wait for an answer. Partly me not seeing the notif for a while and partly me just going "uhhhhh" and not knowing how to answer so I just. Didn't. 😶
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suppermariobroth · 3 months
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Since the release of Super Mario 64 in 1996, players have been questioning what exactly Mario says when he throws Bowser during the battles in that game. In 2019, Charles Martinet officially stated that Mario is supposed to be saying "So long King-a Bowser!", though this was met with skepticism as the voice line in the game does not seem to have the word "King" audible.
Above is a Super Mario 64 postcard signed by Martinet in 2017, two years before the statement, where he also wrote the same line. This suggests he did not in fact make up an answer on the spot for his statement (a common suggestion) and that he seems to have remembered this line as being "So long King-a Bowser!" all along.
As to why the line does not sound like that in-game, a possible explanation is that it was originally recorded as such by Martinet, but was truncated by the development team during production.
Main Blog | Twitter | Patreon | Small Findings | Source: nvmusa
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deathbecomesthem · 1 month
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Who, Me?
Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader - 2.3K
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1996 Coffee House - Minors DNI, +18 ONLY
Summary: Eddie doesn't remember you, but he left a lasting impression back in the day. Like this? Go read @courtingchaos's line cook!Eddie and Crash Into Me by the ineffable @dr-aculaaa.
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Eddie-fucking-Munson.
He hasn’t looked at you, not really. Not yet. You know it won’t matter when he does, he didn’t spend countless hours staring at the back of your head in the hallways of Hawkins High. He didn’t commit each freckle on your face to his memory. He didn’t buy your deodorant from the Woolworth’s in town just so he could put it on a pillow to bury his face in. 
That was you that did those things.
How long has it been? It’s the first thought that jumps to the front of your mind at the moment you lay your eyes on him. The thought, unbidden, is asked inside your mind before you even fully register who it is that you’re looking at right now. A ghost of your past? No, not a ghost, you can smell him - drugstore cologne and the memory of his last cigarette. 
Plus, the years are written on the fine lines of his face, you can see where they’re already beginning to sink into his skin. You can see the future grooves that will dance along his skin, the years painted across his visage. This is Eddie Munson, but with new additions. You can’t help but snort a laugh, forgetting for a moment that he’s actually standing on the other side of the counter from you. 
Eddie looks up, eyebrows pinched tight, the glasses that sit on his nose lift a little with the tightening of his features.
“What are you doing here?” You ask him, plainly. You ask him in the way you would ask someone you’ve seen every single day for the last 10 years of your life. In a way, you have. When you look in the mirror, you see the remnants of your only conversation with him. He is forever a part of you, even if you didn’t quite stick with him.
“Uh, hi? I’m, uh, I’m getting some coffee?” His response is a question, as it should be. At least he knows that whether he gets coffee from this establishment is up to the person standing behind the counter in front of him. You. He’s fully searching your face, and you catch a glint in his eye before he says, “Do we know each other?”
You turn your lips down into an exaggerated frown, “Oh, I am wounded by you,” you tell him, emphasizing a hint at who you are to him, “how sad to have been forgotten by you. You certainly left your mark on me.”
Behind Eddie’s round wire frames, his eyes widen comically, panic dancing across his features. You imagine he’s racking his brain for a memory, possibly a long forgotten one night stand or an acquaintance that he should remember but cannot recall. You pause, letting him exist in the panic for just a beat before setting his mind at ease.
“Oh, it’s ok, Eddie. Eddie Munson. From Hawkins, Indiana. It’s ok that you don’t remember little ole me, I wouldn’t remember me either.” You sigh dramatically and point to the chalkboard menu above your head while still keeping eye contact with the man, “What’s your fancy?”
He huffs out an answer that doesn’t surprise you at all, “large dead eye coffee. Please.” He bows his head a little and tries for a smile. He’s looking at you intensely, studying your features as you ring up his order on the cash register and then step over to the espresso machine on your right. You’re flying solo tonight. It’s Tuesday evening, and you simply cannot afford to staff the shop at these slow times. You’re the baker, opener, barista, and closer.
“Please tell me who you are. I’m going to lose sleep over this, Sweetheart.” His pleading eyes are only fuel on the fire. It’s too fun, having a little secret and being able to toy with the boy that you thought about while you laid awake every night of your 15th year. 
Eddie leans his elbows on the counter in front of you, cupping his face in his hands, “I can’t believe I would ever forget someone like you.”
“Oh, ho ho, that’s not going to work with me, Edward.” You’re laughing at him openly when you hand off the paper coffee cup to him. “We close in an hour. You’re the only customer I’ve had for a while, feel free to hang out until close.”
Eddie shakes his head slightly at your dismissal and heads to one of the small tables in the corner of the shop next to the big windows. You watch out of the corner of your eyes as he digs out charcoal pencils and a spiral bound sketchbook. An artist, of course.
1985, Sophomore Year:
You noticed him the first week of school. You kept on noticing him, more and more, after Dustin and Mike joined Hellfire. You sat at a table with your girlfriends every lunch period that had the perfect vantage point to watch him. He never saw you, and that was good, because the thought of ever having to speak with him back in those days made your stomach feel like it would drop out of the bottom of your feet.
It was a Tuesday, just like this one today, when it happened. You were late, Mrs. Cikra kept you back in AP English to discuss your entry for the Hawkins’ student poetry journal, The Spark. She’d written you a note, but the thought of Mr. Senica being annoyed with you skating into Physics after the bell made you hot with anxiety. 
You’re not running exactly, but your Chucks are squeaking with each purposeful step on the linoleum floor. It was the sharp turn just outside of the science labs, your final destination, when it happens. A mass of curls, arms, and legs collides with you. Two objects in kinetic motion smashed together. 
With no sense of his own size, and his mouth open in shock, Eddie Munson’s teeth sink into your forehead. The combined forces of your two moving bodies colliding was enough for you to need 6 stitches on your forehead. How Eddie walked away from that without a broken jaw was a medical miracle. He’s the more hard headed of the two of you, according to the school nurse. 
To this day, a perfectly captured set of Eddie’s Munsons teeth are scarred on the topmost part of your forehead, just below the hairline. You’ve made bangs a permanent hair feature, even though it’s not something someone would notice if they didn’t know to look for it. When you happen to see it, it still makes you smile. 
A decade later, your little high school crush still has his mark on you.
You let yourself get lost in those memories while you work through your routine. You put the soups away. You turn over the large coffee urns and drain them in the big sink in the kitchen, holding back a small carafe for Eddie, just in case. You clean the sandwich station. You start sweeping, putting up chairs on the opposite side of the dining room from where your only guest is still sitting.
You can feel eyes on you while you work. A delicious tension in the air of what would have otherwise been a boring and quiet Tuesday evening. He’s focused on you, and it’s a real thrill. You can’t wipe the smile off your face while you sweep up stray coffee stirrers from the island station by the front door.
“So,” Eddie says, loud enough to be heard across the room, “you’re from Hawkins, I take it. How did you end up here?”
“College. English degree. I started working here as a freshman and just stayed, ya know?” You look up and see that he’s nodding along with your words, probably trying to put this new information into the context of everything else he’s gleaned over the last hour. “I’m a poet, we do slams once a month.”
“Were you a poet when I knew you before?” He asks. A simple question, with no hope in helping him figure out the mystery that is you.
“Oh sure. I’ve been a poet since the first time I picked up a pen and put it to paper. But that’s not something you would have known about me.” 
Eddie’s mouth is sealed in a thin line of barely veiled frustration. “Ok, great. Fantastic. Can you please give me a hint, Sweetheart?”
You stop sweeping and look at Eddie. You tell him, “I mean, I’ve definitely given you a couple of good hints already, but ok.” You ignore his response, a scoff, and say, “I’m younger than you, by a lot. I was a sophomore when you were in your third senior year. We had mutual friends, though.”
That is true. You’d been good friends with Dustin Henderson and Will Byers since elementary school. A year older than them, but you had similar interests, especially with Will. After the earthquake, when things had started to get back to what qualifies as normal in Hawkins, you had been one of the first people Will had come out to. At that point, Eddie had graduated, though. As soon as Mr. Higgins set that paper diploma in his hand, Eddie made haste out of Hawkins. Of course he did, what had Hawkins been to him, other than an endless string of painful disappointments.
“What about you, Eddie. Where’ve you been all this time?” You’re standing still now with your chin resting on the top of your hands that are holding the top of the broom handle. He gestures widely, an invitation for you to join him at his small table for a chat. You consider, nod once, and lock the door before sweeping your way over to sit down.
“Don’t tell the boss I closed early,” you tell him and wink.
His smile draws you in, it brightens the dimly lit room. The lowlights of the shop cast shadows around his handsome features and you think you could look at him for hours. For the first time in 10 years, you think about what it would be like to kiss the soft skin on the inside corner of his espresso colored eyes.
“I’ve wandered,” he tells you as you take your seat, “a little of this, a little of that.” He leans in conspiratorially, “not all of my dealings have been exactly legal, ya know?”
Your giggle tells him that, yes, you do know. 
“Right, so I live over on Sherman. I fix bikes and teach guitar. At least for now, I’m skating by without having to punch in at a 9 to 5, which suits me.”
You scrunch your nose a little bit and say, “Yeah, but how’d you end up here? In this city?”
He looks down at his paper and you intuit the answer. “Ah, I see. Anyone I know? You still with the person in question?”
“Nah, but I like it here. She graduated and left, but I stayed,” he shrugs. Nothing more needs to be said, because of course you understand. This is a place for misfits, you should know, you’re one of them.
“'I can't believe you’ve been here this long and I’m only just now seeing you for the first time.” 
You’re both openly eyeing one another. It’s electric. Eyes scanning features, looking for anything that might give away something. 
“I can’t believe that such a pretty lady knows who I am, is from Hawkins, and is actually willing to talk to me.” Christ, how do you resist his face right now, even with all the cocky lady’s man mannerisms, he is charming.
“I still have hope in you, Eddie. You know who I am, you’ll figure it out,” you point directly to the fringe at your forehead and say, “if you think hard enough.” You smile, “that’s like the third very fucking obvious hint, by the way.”
He shakes his head and beams at you, “Fuck it. I don’t care who you are, mystery woman. Can I get your number? Let me take you out.”
“Me? Eddie Munson wants to take me out? Oh, I’d love that, truly. I’ve had a crush on you since I was 15,” Eddie breathes out a disbelieving snort, “I just need you to say my name.”
With that final declaration, you stand and start putting up the chairs at the table next to where Eddie is sitting. Eddie takes the hint and begins to put away his pencils and paper.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, and every day afterwards until I figure this out.” He says it as if it’s a threat. You giggle to yourself. Nothing would make you happier than having Eddie come by every day. You want to tell him that, but not yet. He needs to earn it.
He leaves you with a sheepish wave as he walks through the front door and into the warm fall evening. You turn the deadbolt and turn back to the now too quiet dining room and sigh. 
30 minutes later, as you're flicking down the row of light switches, you hear a noise at the window over by the table where Eddie had sat this evening. Tap, tap, tap. 
Eddie’s at the window. You see his eyes sparkling even from this distance. You see him breathe out, creating condensation on the glass. You see his finger moving, he’s writing something. You head over to see what it says.
It’s your name, written backwards for you to read. You lift your bangs up to show him your scar, and laugh as he does a small celebratory fist bump. You breathe onto the glass and write your number in the condensation, backwards of course, so he can write it down.
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for-a-longlongtime · 30 days
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Guilty Pleasure (4/7) - dbf!Joel Miller x reader
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Somehow you end up in the car with Joel for five hours. With all that heat outside, you just can't be held responsible for what happens next.
Rating: Explicit, 18+ only, mdni Series warnings (tba): Age gap (reader is 22, Joel is 42), masturbation (f), use of sex toys, oral sex, PiV, anal, hair pulling, dirty talk, getting caught, playful use of 'daddy', outrageous flirting, groping, reference to m/m, Joel's arms should always come with a warning. No outbreak!AU. Word count: 3.6K A/N: I thought "Hmmm, maybe I should add this one thing" - and not surprisingly, it got very much out of hand. @magpiepills this one is extra dirty for you!
< part 3 | series masterlist | main masterlist
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“Wait!” You sprint over to the truck as you hear Joel rev the engine and turn out of the driveway - surely he wouldn’t just drive off over being two minutes late? “Damnit Joel, hold on!”
He stops, giving you an amused look as you’ve almost dropped your purse and tripped over your own two feet. “Told you. 10 a.m. sharp,” he said matter of factly, giving you just enough time to open the passenger door and hop on the bench seat before he takes off again, not even giving you the chance to close the door properly.
“JOEL! The door!”
He sighs, once more stopping the car, and he leans over to turn on the radio and fiddle with the dial - giving you just enough time to close the door and put on your seat belt.
“Such a dick,” you mutter under your breath, and you can tell he hears it but just decides to not respond directly through it. “Are you the time police?”, you ask, now clearly audible as you lean back over the console to toss your purse on the backseat. “Jeez, didn’t know you’d get your panties in a bunch over being just a minute late.”
“Two minutes.” He changes the radio station a few more times until he finds a song he likes, humming along with it as he takes a right turn, headed to the main road. “ ‘s nothing but proper manners to be on time if someone gives you a ride.”
You roll your eyes as you settle in, straightening out your sundress. “Okay, Daddy,” you sigh, glancing to see if maybe that gets a response out of him, but he just keeps his eyes on the road. “Your shirt is inside out, by the way.”
“Agai-...?” He seems exasperated as he looks down at his shirt, which then hardens into a frown as he recognizes you are just messing around with him. “Shut it,” he mutters, but you can’t help but grin in satisfaction. 1 - 1, back to being even now.
“What is that awful music? Nirvana?”, you ask him, determined to not let him have the silence he asks for - and if he’s anything like your dad, you know that he’ll get extra annoyed at you trashing Kurt Cobain.
He gives you a look in disbelief that makes you think that you made the right choice there to poke at him. “Are you kidding me? No, that’s not — this is Local H,” he gives a nod at the radio. “Bound For The Floor.”
“Sounds dirty. Are they also from the eighties?” Just to make matters worse and see how far you can go, you prop your legs up on the dash - only for Joel’s large hand to reach over and sweep them right back off again as he gives you a murderous look.
“1996, you little shit. One more move like that and you can walk all the way to the DMV.”
“How am I supposed to know that? I wasn’t even born back then,” you say with a pout, your skin feeling pleasantly like it’s on fire where he touched you. “You’re being mean.”
“No shit.” He shakes his head, refusing to look back at you, but you’re pretty sure he has an excellent view of your bare legs with the way you’re currently sitting. “You’re being a brat.”
“Mmm. You into that, Joel?
There it is; one of those long suffering sighs you’ve heard repeatedly from him before. He refuses to answer your question though, also not taking any of the other bait you try to throw at him during the ride. When you finally get there, he pulls up at the front of the DMV office.
“I’ll be back in thirty to pick you up. Don’t be late again, okay?” His eyes soften slightly for just a moment before he adds, “Please. Got a lot to do today.”
“What if it takes longer? Maybe you should just give me your number so I can text you if I run late,” you suggest innocently, and you see just the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. Fuck, if only he’d give you his number, you could send him some of the spicy pictures you took last night… 
“Thirty minutes,” he repeats without missing a beat. “I’ll wait for five, else you can get an Uber back home.”
“Fine. Thanks, Joel.” You lean back over the console, trying to grab your purse - which not surprisingly is right out of your reach, just as planned. “Sorry, I need to just… give me a second.” You fully turn around in your seat, leaning all the way over to the back as you can reach your purse now, knowing damn well that this position gives him a clear view of your hot pink lacy panties under your dress. As if you needed further confirmation, the way you hear him practically choke is a dead giveaway that he indeed got an eyeful of you. 
You look over your shoulder at him, seeing that he’s intently staring straight ahead as his hands are gripping the steering wheel tight. It’s impossible to not laugh at the strained expression on his face, and you decide to take advantage of being so close to him. “Dirty old man, don’t think I didn’t notice,” you tease, planting a quick kiss on his cheek as you then hop out of the truck, not waiting to hear a response. “See you in thirty!”
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When he picks you up thirty minutes later, you’re ready to greet him with a snarky comment. All of that goes away the moment you get back into the truck and find your senses overwhelmed by the rich, sweet smell of coffee and caramel. Which is more than just a bit confusing, because all you’ve ever seen Joel drink is black coffee.
Joel, seeing your surprised face, nods at the cupholder as he takes a sip of his own coffee. “Hope I got your order right,” he offers, then pushes a slightly greasy Starbucks bag over to you. “Didn’t know what you’d want to eat though. If you want something else…”
You open the bag curiously, then gasp as you pull the flaky treat out of it. “Fuck, croissants are always great,” you blurt out, unable to stop a groan when you taste the ham and cheese filling. “This is so good. Thank you,” you manage after swallowing the first bite. When you lift your coffee cup to your lips, you realize he actually got your signature drink - an oat milk latte with extra caramel syrup. “How do you even know this is my drink?”
He shrugs as he takes a turn to the highway, following the signs towards the Home Depot location on the way back home. “It’s how you always make them at the house, right? Oat milk and that caramel stuff. Kitchen always smells like it,” he says as he tries to shrug it off, but you can tell he seems pleased that he got it right.
It’s not just the coffee that warms your chest as you drink it; you’re genuinely lost in your own thoughts for a while as you’re trying to process not just the kind gesture, but how much attention he must be paying to you in order to notice things like that. Your ex never did, nor did the boys before him. Even though they weren’t inconsiderate per se - it just wasn’t something that would register on their radar, it seems.
Boys. That probably was the problem to begin with. Why waste your time with boys when a gorgeous DILF like Joel was so much more attractive, thoughtful and capable?
Following Joel throughout Home Depot makes you realize that it isn’t just about him being capable - it went beyond that. He was a man on a mission, clearly knew what he wanted to get, and gathered everything with ease, including the heavy lumber. You would have happily lend him a hand, but he immediately shot that down, refusing to let you carry anything heavy 
“ ‘s not a problem, darling. I do this day in and out,” he assures you when he eventually loads everything in the back of his truck; the lumber, hardware, some new blades for saws, and other things of which you’re not even sure what they are.
“I can easily pick up things like that,” you protest mildly as you sip from your coffee, and when he bends over to pick up something from the ground, his shirt rides up his back, exposing his narrow waist. Fuck. How is this man so hot? And how does he not seem to be involved with anyone?
“Never said you can’t,” he agrees easily with you, grunting as he puts the final things in the trunk bed. “Just said you don’t have to. You need to stop anywhere on our way home?”
‘On our way home’ – the intimacy of those words suddenly makes you blush. You can’t help but wonder how exactly that would be, a home with him. You’ve never seen his place, as far as you know. Maybe you should ask him, just come up with a reason for him to take you there, affording you a kind of privacy you wouldn’t have at your parents house.
“No, I’m good,” you say truthfully, and he gives you a nod and a smile as he unlocks the cab of his truck. 
“Alright then. Let’s go.”
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Somehow it’s already past 3 pm by the time you get home. Five hours alone with Joel. While it had turned out very different than expected, and you enjoyed it, you were also wound up beyond belief. 
Sitting so close to him in the truck, smelling him, getting to see his little frowns, smirks, pouts and sighs in a different setting than at the house. Not to mention how watching him stride through the store and deal with things had developed a competency kink for you on the spot. It felt like somehow he had dripped over every part of you, saturating you with his presence to the point that you felt both overstimulated and woefully unsatisfied.
“Thanks again for the ride. I had a good time, really.” You smiled as you bit your lip, watching the little lines around his eyes crinkle as he smiled too.
“Not a problem. Just don’t be late next time.” 
Your heart jumped as you tried not to respond to that - next time? So he wanted to spend more time with you later? Today sure turned out to have been a success. 
The house was quiet as you went upstairs, your clothing sticking to your skin, and all you can think about is getting clean and calming down a little as you head into the bathroom. You turn on the shower, letting the water heat up a little as you stare at your reflection in one of the mirrors above the sink. 
Being back in Austin, catching up on sleep, not needing to think much about things like meals or rushing somewhere for classes - it has been nice. A breath of fresh air even, not to mention how much more time you’re spending outdoors these days. You look nothing like the person who cried for several weeks while wrestling through your finals, when the knowledge of your ex cheating on you hung around like some kind of persistent ghost, unwilling to leave even now you finally had acknowledged what happened. You weren’t looking forward to needing to return to that place once the semester started, but at least you still had half of the summer here.
You hear Joel’s footsteps in the kitchen downstairs, and you pause as you wonder if he’s going to come upstairs. He too had been sweaty from the hot weather, especially with loading and unloading the truck, so it was likely that he was due for a shower too. So… maybe you should make the most of it. Especially since you two were the only people at the house.
It’s not like you’re trying to trick Joel, you tell yourself as you strip out of your clothes - your underwear soaking wet as expected from having been so close to him. Things happen. Sometimes people forget to close a door. And if that happens to be the case while you’re about to shower, and Joel just happens to walk by… well. How bad can that be, really?
You unlock the door and fully open it, glancing across the hallway at Joel’s room that’s almost right across the bathroom. Yeap, once he comes upstairs and heads to his room, you should be right in the line of sight.
Your heart is thumping loudly as you leave the bathroom door open and head over to the shower, you try to calm your nerves by assuring yourself it’s fine. Don’t overthink it, just take a shower like you usually do. You wash your hair, putting in conditioner for a few minutes while you use the bubbling strawberry body wash to clean yourself. But as you run your hands over arms, breasts and belly, your mind automatically wanders off to thoughts of Joel again. Not just the time you spent together today, but also so many other moments this past week.
Yesterday he came home late, well past ten pm, reeking of sweat, hard labor and wood shavings. He seemed like he had planned to make a beeline for the shower, but your mom had insisted he’d sit down first and have something to drink and eat a sandwich, before he’d go upstairs to wash and crash into his bed. 
“You men are just the same; if I don’t make you eat, you’ll both starve because you’re so busy,” she had scolded him. So he sat down on a barstool, looking slightly begrudged. That all disappeared the moment there was food in front of him though; he wolfed down everything on the plate like he hadn’t seen food in days. 
You had been reading a book, picking at a bowl of cherries as you tried to not pay too much attention to him. Yet something about him all dirty and worn out after a long day of work had accelerated your pulse. Perhaps most of all it was his scent, still, that got your attention. Not overwhelming, but still clearly present - typically ‘Joel after his work day’, and you had to press your nails into your thighs to not inhale it deeply. 
Right now, just the thought of that - along with having smelled him so close to you in the truck - has you dripping wet, sensitive to the point that you almost jump when you slip a hand between your thighs. The shower isn’t exactly the most comfortable place to get yourself off, but the combination of your thoughts and the warm water proved to be impossible to resist. You pinch your nipple as you try to be not too loud, imagining Joel’s mouth on your breasts, biting you until you whimper for him. He would turn you around, make you face the wall while spreading your legs, and…
You hold your breath when you hear someone move in the hallway, then quickly close your eyes tight as you circle your clit with your fingers, ignoring the nervous feeling bubbling in your chest. “Joel,” a soft whine escapes from you after all, begging him to come into the bathroom, get in the shower with you and take whatever he wants from you. “Please…”
For a moment all you hear is the sound of the shower running, then unexpectedly the door slams shut - not by coincidence, but clearly done so deliberately. Your eyes fly open as you’re hopeful for a second that he’s standing there, stripping for you - but all you see is the closed bathroom door. There is, however, the sound of footsteps moving away from the door, going down the hallway. You curse as your building orgasm disappears almost immediately. Great. Blue balls as well as being rejected. 
You try desperately to coax yourself back to the edge, using your fingers, the strong stream of water from the shower, and even change positions a few times. Even when you press your front against the tile, fucking yourself with two fingers while you imagine Joel pounding into you from behind, you can’t quite get back to the same level of excitement - the moment ruined by the rejection of that door being slammed shut.
Eventually you just give up, finish your shower and wrap yourself up in a big towel to go back to your room. But just as you’re about to open your bedroom door, you hear a low groan that you immediately recognize as being Joel.
“Fuuuckkk. Oh, god, baby… please, yes, please…”
You gasp as you turn around, staring at Joel’s bedroom door that’s firmly closed. ‘Go over to him’, you urge yourself. But as much as you want to, and it arouses you beyond belief to think of him jerking off after having seen you in the shower, the risk of being turned down again is too offputting. His moans are something else though, and your nipples are immediately hard as your pussy starts leaking, greedy for the release you didn’t manage to get in the shower. 
So you slip into your room, turn on some music and shove a pillow between your legs to ride it, thinking about being on top of Joel. How he would stare up at you reverently, hands on your hips as you ride him, and he’d be unable to stop whimpering your name. The way he would gasp, beg for you to let him come - apologize for making you wait so long until he gave in. “I’m sorry, baby.”
You close your eyes as your hips work faster, and you slip your hand between your wet cunt and the cotton of the pillow, shuddering as you push two fingers inside of yourself. “That’s it, pretty girl. Oh, fuck, look at you…”, Joel coos, wrapping his arms around you as his hips buck up against you, again and again. “Squeezing me so goddamn tight. You want me to come inside of you?”
You nod breathlessly, the pleading words spilling from your lips, and he just laughs as he lets his hands slide down to your hips - you’re still riding him, but he’s clearly in control, guiding you just the way you need.
“Filthy girl,” he breathes in your ear, letting one hand slide from your hips to your ass. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?” Whimpering, you nod again in agreement, but that only gets you a smack against your ass, so firmly that it takes your breath away. “I asked you a question. Use your words for me,” he demands, fucking up even harder into you. “Tell me what you’d let me do to you.”
“Anything, Joel!” you cry out, burying your face into the pillow as you’re shaking with desire, feeling the tension build up so it could soon release. “Anything. Come inside me, please, give me… I want it, let me feel you…”
“You want me dripping out of you? Filling you up so much that you spill over?”
You cry out as you come hard, the words you imagine him saying to you echoing loudly in your mind, your body easing at the long awaited release, but still it’s not enough. Blindly you reach for the silk bag on your nightstand, pulling out the first thing you get your hands on - a bullet vibrator -, and you turn it on while you keep the fingers of your other hand still buried inside of you.
“So greedy. You're a dirty little thing.” Joel’s laugh fills up your head, taunting you, telling you exactly all the things you want to hear, all the things he would do to you, and soon your body convulses for a second time. By the third time, your hand has gone numb and you feel lightheaded, as if you’re going to pass out. The words echoing in your head are no longer the imagined whispers from Joel, just the moans you heard earlier in the hallway, coming directly from him. “Fuuuckkk. Oh, god, baby… please, yes, please…”
Trembling, you click off the vibrator and wipe yourself clean with a shirt that’s within reach while you desperately try to control your breathing. You’re just gonna take five minutes to recover - that’s all. Just close your eyes for a moment. And next time… next time you hear him moaning, you won't hesitate. You'll just go straight into his room.
Next time.
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justmeinadaze · 2 months
Text
Inescapable (Steddie X You)
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A/N: This is the events that ties in with this thing here :)
Please enjoy!
Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, SMUT, public smut, fingering, grinding, LOTS of dirty talk, daddy kink (cause I'm me), female masturbation, handjob (m & m), ANGST, cheating (reader is in a relationship), mentions of her parents not approving of her talking to the guys, reader also mentions bf parents don't like her, readers bf interviews the guys and vaguely mentions things from season 4 like the deaths and starts a fight with them, boys get jealous and angry when promises are broken, cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).
Word Count: 8533
"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)
September 1996
The longer you waited for the system to transfer your call to their cellblock the more your nerves continued to build. 
You had been corresponding with convicts Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington for almost two months so it wasn’t like this was your first time talking to them but there were so many different factors that made you anxious. 
Becoming a lawyer was all you ever wanted to be and you constantly felt like you had to prove yourself since your family was so desperate for you to become anything else. When you were told to pick a case, everyone in your class chose the obvious candidates making your eyes roll especially since there was no challenge in it. So many well-known cases had not only evidence but confessions from the defendant saying that they did the crimes. Manson and Gacy had done interviews constantly incriminating themselves.
Eddie and Steve never once accepted any kind of invitation to do an interview whether it be media or print and they never once changed their stories even in the letters they wrote. A plea deal had been offered for them to plead guilty with Steve serving only 10 years and Eddie with 15 but they declined insisting on their innocence. 
The evidence was lack luster at best and it killed you that their lawyer didn’t do a better job at defending them. You genuinely believed them and what they told you. Add in the fact that their demeanors in their writing never conveyed any kind of hostility or rudeness. 
Both men were always polite and answered any questions you had. They could be intimidating at times but you thought maybe it was just because they were older than you and stuck in a place they never should have been. 
Oddly enough though, you felt safe with them. 
“Hey, Y/N?”, a soft voice flowed through your ears. 
“Yeah, um, hey. Hi. Is this, um, who is this?”
“I’m Steve and Eddie’s on the phone next to me. The prison has a way for three-way calls but don’t worry. We can pay for those fees.”, the man responds hoping to calm your nerves. 
“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to hear your voice finally.”, Eddie exhales heavily.
Blinking, you hear what sounds like one of them being hit as Steve scolds his friend. 
“Stop it. You’re going to scare her.”
“He’s not…I’m not scared. It’s alright, I just…this is all new to me.”
“What? You didn’t expect to be on the phone with convicted killers?”, Eddie replied bluntly making you laugh a little when you heard the other man sigh in frustration. “You’re going to have to get used to it with you wanting to be a lawyer. Unless you want to be lawyer like Steve’s dad.”
“Oh, no thank you. Tax law isn’t exactly stimulating to say the least.”, you giggle. 
“Ah, I see you tried to reach out to my father.”
“Um, I did. I hope that’s ok. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”
“No, honey. It’s absolutely fine. I say tried because I imagine he ignored you?”
“He didn’t ignore me exactly. I told him I was a law student…I just left out exactly what type of law I was studying.”, you wince on the other end fearing it may alliant him before sighing in relief when they both laugh. “When I started asking about your case he politely told me to fuck off and your mom didn’t answer my calls.”
“How does one politely tell someone to fuck off?”, Eddie asked.
“He’s got his ways. I’m sorry he was rude, Y/N.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m kind of used to parents talking down to me.”
“Baby? Are you hungry?! Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”
Your eyes squeezed shut as your boyfriend called to you in the background immediately silencing the men on the line. 
“Uh, no, Derek. I’m not hungry right now but maybe later?” After nodding, he disappears into your shared bedroom. “I’m so sorry about that.”
“No problem. Isn’t it like nine o’clock? You need to eat something, sweetheart.”
“It’s ok, Mr. Mun—Eddie…I had a big lunch.”
We’ve been writing for two months and you still struggle using our names?”, the man laughs. “You start your letters with ‘em!”
“I know. I know but it’s different.”
“Well, let’s shake out those nerves because I have a feeling we’re going to be friends for a while. You’re Y/N. Who are we?”, Steve instructs with a calm tone that makes you blush. “Come on, pretty girl. Who are we?”
“Steve. Steve and Eddie.”
“Good. Very good. Now can you say it a bit more confidently?”
Glancing around you, you make sure your boyfriend isn’t within earshot before sighing and replying, “You’re Eddie and Steve.”
“You have five more minute on this call.”
The automated voice startled you as you listened to them heavily exhale in annoyance. 
“Alright, princess. We’ll…we’ll let you go but feel free to call us whenever. Like I said…It was so nice to hear your voice. Compared to all the bullshit we hear in here…it’s a nice reprieve.”
You hear a line disconnect thinking they both suddenly disconnected before Steve’s voice flowed through. 
“All of this has been really hard on him, you know?”
“I can’t imagine…”
“But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since we’ve heard a kind voice directed our way especially one as calming as yours… But, yeah, um, Eddie said call whenever but you know—”
“I can’t call after 10:30pm.”
“You got it, hon. Have a good night and we’ll talk to you later.”
“Good night, Steve”
##########################
 December 22, 1996
“Don’t let my uncle forget to give you the present we got you! We went to every store to find the perfect gift!”
You laughed hard at Eddie’s joke as Steve sighed in fake frustration into the phone. 
“Ok we didn’t but we did scan the Sears catalogue Wayne brought when he came to see us.”
“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”
“Pfft, please. You’re our friend and you said you got us something so sue us.” You softly smiled when you heard Steve’s smile flow through. You imagined this time of year was exceptionally hard for them and wanted to do what you could, growing fond of them after all this time. “Are you still visiting Derek’s parents for Christmas?”
“That is the plan but I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time meeting them and I’m afraid they won’t like me.”
“Sweetheart, have you met you? They’re going to love you!”
“Shut the fuck up!”
This wasn’t the first time another inmate had interrupted their call. They explained to you that while the phones were in a private-ish area, the common area was still nearby. You never told them but you could hear the immediate change in their demeanor when it happened and it killed you. It was as if their old personalities would leak through before prison reminded them where they were. 
You wished you could have met the men they were before being incarcerated. 
“I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Everyone is a bit amped up with the holidays around the corner. He’s not wrong though. If Derek’s parents don’t like you than fuck them because obviously somethings wrong with them.”
“Steve? You don’t have to always do that… pretend like everything’s ok. Not with me.”
The silence on the other end was heavy but you could hear their steady breathing as they thought about what you were saying. 
“I have to. Not just for you but me to. If I don’t downplay it then—”
“We’re reminded that we are actually in a fucking prison we don’t deserve to be in.”, Eddie added breaking your heart. 
“I wish there was something I could do.”, you whisper. 
“Baby, you have no idea how much you do just by being you. We don’t deserve you, Y/N.”
“Yes you do, Eddie. You and Steve don’t deserve the hell you’ve been through. I wish I could at least hug you both.”
Again, both men were silent and the only sound you heard was your boyfriend in your bedroom as he finished packing the last of his things for your trip. 
“We wish we could hug you to, honey.”
“Yeah especially with the way your letters smell I always imagine you smell exactly the same…so fucking sweet…just like you.”
Their voices had dropped to a register you had never heard from either man before let alone any man in your lifetime. The sound had your heart fluttering as you licked your lips and exhaled.
“Are you, Y/N?”
“Am I what, Eddie?”
“Are you sweet?”
“You have five more minutes on this call.”
“Baby?! I got everything packed but I’m not sure if I’m missing something!”, your boyfriend shouts making you gasp as you jump.
“Fuck. Um, I have to go. I’ll call you guys when I can ok? Bye!” 
Before they even say a word, you hastily hang up the phone. 
########################
January 12th, 1997
Biting the skin beside your nail, you glance at the other people in the visitor’s center waiting to see other inmates. Some women were dressed in low cut shirts showing off their cleavage making you a bit self-conscious as you adjusted the slightly baggy sweater hanging off your body. This was your first time physically meeting Eddie and Steve and you weren’t sure why but you wanted to make a good impression. 
Quickly throwing your sweater to the side, you fixed your hair before straightening the long sleeve shirt underneath that fit a bit better to your form. Not wanting to seem too eager, you chose jeans telling yourself it was also due to the cold weather.
You weren’t sure if you could bring anything but to be honest you weren’t even sure what would be appropriate. When you met Derek’s parents you brought a dessert that no one ate except your boyfriend as his mother constantly stared daggers at you from across the table. When you went to see your parents, you showed up with small gifts that they always seemed to awkwardly thank you for before giving you gifts as well that were things you could never use. Oddly enough the only person to react positively to you showing up with an item was Eddie’s uncle whose eyes lit up when you appeared at his front door with cake you made. You both shared it as he talked to you about holidays at the Munson household and answered some of the questions you had. 
What do you bring to people who lost their freedom?
Inmates began slowly entering the room and the sudden sounds of partners and parents sobbing as they embraced them overwhelmed you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 
“Y/N?”
When you opened your them again you were met with two tall men towering you. You had read about them constantly and seen their pictures numerus time in different place but having them both in front of you now abruptly overloaded your brain as you rose to your feet. 
They still physically looked more or less the same than the day they were arrested 10 years ago except Steve had a bit more facial hair and Eddie seemed to have more tattoos on his arms. Under their short sleeve white shirts, you could see their muscular arms and abs, again making you self-conscious as you pulled at the bottom of garment without looking. Steve’s hair was a bit longer but a bit frayed as if he had been running his fingers through it before coming into the room while Eddie’s long hair was pulled back out of his face showing off his soft features. 
“Is everything ok? You look scared. Don’t worry, honey, you’re safe in here. No one is going to UMPH—”
Steve’s hands flew up in surprise when you jerked forward and your arms wrapped around his waist. It took him a moment before his own limbs finally circled around you as his cheek rested on top of your head. 
“Fuck me… It’s been so long since anyone except Ed has hugged me.”
At the sound of his name, you released the one man to move to the other who without hesitation took you in his embrace and clung to you tightly as his fingers tangled in your hair. 
Feeling his hands shake against you, you pulled back into time to hear him clear his throat as he turned away from you to run his palms over his face. 
“Sorry, yeah, it’s been a while since anyone has come to see us. Well, except for Wayne.”
Their eyes never leave you as you take a seat and they follow you down making sure to keep their distance until you felt more comfortable. 
“I like Wayne. He’s been incredibly kind to me since I met him. Not that everyone else hasn’t…just hard to get a hold of people. Especially Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson since they no longer live in Hawkins.” Shifting your gaze their way, you notice them staring at you with small smiles on their faces. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, babbling a bit. I’m just a little nervous I guess. Plus, you’re not what I was expecting…aaaaand I’m doing it again. Ok.”
Eddie’s hand gently reaches out to grasp your forearm that was resting on the table.
“It’s ok, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be nervous.”
“What do you mean by ‘not what you were expecting’?”, Steve smirks. “Were you thinking orange jumpsuits and tattoos on our faces?”
“No.”, you giggle. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re only familiar with pictures…seeing someone in person…”
“Yeah, we know the feeling.”, the long-haired man beams your way. “I was right by the way. You smell intoxicating.”
***
February 10th, 1997
You smile as both men continue to laugh at joke Eddie had made while they continue to nibble on the food you brought them. 
“I’m surprised they let you bring this in. Did you drug them with your own set of like pot brownies or—”
“Shhhh!”, you giggle as your hand reaches up to silence the metalhead who casually tilts back and captures it with his own making a silent mental note that you don’t pull away. “The guards here actually aren’t too bad. At first I was afraid to ask but when I did they told me it was ok to bring desserts but they have to inspect it, of course, and then it can’t be in like any glass.”
“And you said you brought this to Derek’s parents and they didn’t like it? I think these brownies are delicious.”, Steve grinned as he sucked some of the remaining chocolate off his thumb. 
“It’s not that they didn’t like it, they just don’t like me.” As you nervously chuckle and glance towards the window, Eddie’s own thumb caresses your skin comfortingly as the other man slides a bit closer to you when he hears the change in your voice. “Before me, Derek was dating this particular girl that his family found more fitting. Kind of like your parents Steve, his are high society and they’ve told him countless times that I’m ‘not a good fit’.”
“The fuck does that mean? You’re perfect.”
“Naw, Ed. Not to the ‘Hawkins Elite’.”, Steve sighs. “My dad was the same. Perfect to them had a particular meaning. It’s fucking stupid because you are an amazing woman.”
Your eyes lock with his as you thank them; his gorgeous honey irises burning into yours. When you notice Eddie is taking you in as well, you laugh hoping to break the tension that had suddenly built as you pulled your hand out of his grasp. 
“It’s…It’s not a big deal. He made sure that night to show me how appreciated I am on the dining room table so.” Your face promptly flushes with embarrassment as you try to hide behind your palms. “Why the fuck did I just say that?”
When you finally found the confidence to look their way, you noticed they were still staring at you but something else had replaced the earlier look in their eyes. Was that…jealousy? 
“Is that the kind of thing that gets you off? Doing something you shouldn’t?”
Trying to brush it off (and ignore the sexy sound of the husky drop in Eddie’s voice), you smirked as you lazily shrugged. 
“Isn’t everyone to an extent?”
“Hm…but not everyone is you.” 
“Steve—”
“Y/N.” At the sound of your name, you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you lick your lips and lean forward till your forehead lands on his. 
“This is wrong.”
“You like that though don’t you, pretty girl?”  His humid breath warms your tongue as you subtly open your mouth to contain the strong need to melt into the soft sound of his voice. “I bet if I put my hand between your legs that little pussy would be dripping.”
Closing the distance, his lips mingle gently with yours as his large palm cups your cheek. You can feel in his kiss that he’s holding back and the flutters in your stomach desperately want more. Another set of hands takes hold of your face and you’re met with another set of lips that taste like strong nicotine and sin. 
“Fuck, you taste so good. Does he appreciate you, sweetheart? You deserve to be worshipped.”
“Eddie…I—”
“Munson! Harrington! Why don’t you share, huh?!”, another inmate yelled pulling you back into the reality of your situation. 
“Fuck off!”, the metalhead shouted immediately rising to his feet when the other prisoner did the same. 
“Ok, ok, ok.”, Steve tried to deescalate as he quickly stood up and placed himself between both men. “Come on now, guys. Let’s just focus on our own visitors ok?”
Eddie and the man continued to stare each other down before turning back towards their table but to both their dismay you were gone. 
***
February 16th, 1997
“Hey, honey. Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”
You sniffled into your phone as you pulled your knees to your chin. 
“Yeah, I’m alright, Steve. I, um, I just got into a fight with Derek and he stormed out.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You can talk to us about it if you want to. We’re here for you.”, Eddie coos hating that he can’t just pull you to his chest and comfort you. 
“He thinks…I’m too invested in you two. That I spend too much time talking to you and visiting. He…he wants me to stop talking to you. Maybe—Maybe I should.”
“If…if that’s what you want, baby girl. We don’t want to make things harder for you.”
“Do you WANT to stop seeing us?”
“No.”, you sobbed making the metalhead’s heart burst when you didn’t hesitate. “I like talking to you. You both make me feel safe.”
“You know we’d never hurt you, Y/N. Not unless you wanted us to that is.”
When you laughed at his statement both men let out a sigh of relief. 
“What else do we make you feel, pretty girl? Besides safe.”, Steve asked. When you didn’t immediately respond, he took over as he lowered his voice. “Come on, baby. Tell us. Do we make you feel appreciated? Loved? Needed?”
“Y-Yes…”
“Do we give you tingles all over your body?”
“Yes. Fucking everywhere.”, you chuckled making the man smile. 
“Even between those sexy legs?”, Eddie adds, biting his lip when he hears your heavy breath. “Can you do us a favor, princess, and run those soft hands between your pussy? Don’t put them inside you though. Just tell us how wet you are.”
You don’t know why but as the brain fog takes over you do what they ask and slid your fingers between your folds making a loud squelching noise as the pads graze your clit. 
“F-Fuck…I’m—I’m soaked. I like the way you two talk to me.”
“Hm. Never had a man tell you what he wants? Trust us, honey. We fucking dream about how good our cocks would feel buried inside you. If we were free you’d never keep us off you.”, Steve groans feeling himself stiffen in his pants. “We know you like doing things you’re not supposed to. Maybe we’d show up at your school and fuck you in the library while you try to keep from screaming about how you can feel me in your stomach.”
“Steve…please…”
“Go ahead, Y/N. Push two of your fingers in that tight little cunt and pretend it’s you fully seated on top on me in the back of your class as you try to pay attention. At most you can warm my cock the entire time until everyone leaves. I bet you’d like that, sweetheart, huh?”
“Mmm—yes, Eddie, I’d like that.”, you pant as you roll your hips. 
“Jesus Christ, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby, please.”
“Oh God—fuck—I’m gonna…”
You moan both their names repeatedly as the coil snaps and you ride out your high as they listen to your heavy breaths. 
“Such a good girl. You alright, honey?”
“Yeah… I just…I wish I could hold you.”
“We know, baby. Fuck do we know especially with what you’ve been through tonight but we’re going to see you really soon right?”
“In a few days, yeah, but I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s ok.”
“Of course, princess. You can call us whenever you need to.”
################
April 19th, 1997
Eddie’s palm held down the corner of your textbook as the wind blew around you. 
Since it wasn’t as cold outside today you were able to visit with them outside near the courtyard at a picnic table under a nearby tree. You told them you were studying for an exam and they insisted you bring your materials thinking they could be of more help. 
“I mean we were punished by the criminal judicial system so you’d think we’d know some of this stuff.”, Steve chuckles. 
“I know a lot of it but when it comes to tests I struggle to retain any of it. It’s like I just panic sometimes.”
“I always had trouble focusing.”, the metalhead adds. “That’s why I failed so much. Oddly enough the GED wasn’t as difficult.”
“When you get out would you want to go to college?”
“Oh, sweetheart. What school would take me when I get out of here?”
“Eddie…”
“He’s got a point, babe. I tried so hard to get into a university after I graduated and even with my sports record no one wanted me. I doubt a prison record will make that easier.”
“That makes me so angry.”, you growl. “You two didn’t do anything wrong. When is your next appeal?”
“Mine is in a month and his is in three.”, Steve sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. How are you, Y/N? Beside the tests and school, I mean.”
“Everything’s ok. My relationship with Derek has been a bit strained. He went with me to visit my dad and my father just grilled him the moment he walked in. To remove the focus off of him, he told him that I’ve been visiting you two. That, um, that didn’t go so well.”
“What happened?”
“He just…he doesn’t approve.”
“Y/N, sweetheart, what did he say?”, Eddie soothed as he shifted his body closer to yours. 
“He’s afraid you’re going to kill me like that girl.”, you murmured, panicking slightly when you see the metalhead’s jaw tighten. “You know I’m not afraid of you right? I know you’d never hurt me like that.”
“We know, baby. We know.”, Steve coos as he leans down to kiss your forehead. 
“I wish I could do something to help.”, you reply in that small voice that drives them crazy. 
After quickly taking a look around, he glances down at your skirt and without warning subtly lifts your body as he adjusts it so its further up your thighs. Grasping your leg, Steve lifts it over his own and Eddie slides over till he’s pressed up to your opposite side. 
“Keep looking at your notebooks, honey. Don’t lift those pretty eyes from the paper unless we say ok?”
“Ok.”, you answer breathlessly as excited nerves fill your tummy. 
“Good girl.”, Steve praises as he kisses your cheek and you feel his palm ghost up your skin slowly between your legs. “Fuck me. Are you not wearing panties?”, he whispers making you clench at the needy sound. 
“No…I was kind of hoping…”
“Hoping what? That we’d touch you?”
“Such a bad little girl.”, Eddie teases as he reaches for your hand closest to him and kisses the back before placing it on the bulge in his blue sweatpants. “Just enjoy his fingers, Y/N. We can use you to take care of ourselves.”
“Oh my—”
“Shhhh! You have to be quiet, baby. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”, Steve smirks as you passionately shake your head. As he guides his index between your folds, your free arm wraps around his as you rest your cheek on his bicep. “Did you like that? Eddie saying that we’d use you… Oh Munson, she definitely did.”, he exhales as he wiggles and presses his finger against your clit. 
At the sound of you trying to hide your moan in his arm, Steve tugs your leg further up his own and you suddenly feel his stiff cock through his pants rubbing against your calf. To your left Eddie coughs to hide a grunt that wanted to break free as he placed his hand on top of yours and maneuvered it so you were stroking him over his clothes. 
They both would give anything to feel your body directly on theirs but they knew their window of time was short and unfortunately where they were there was no way to discreetly pull down their pants. 
“S-Steve…pleeeeeeeeease…”
Eddie’s nose smushes against your cheek just as his friend guides two of his fingers into your core. 
“We’re gonna get in trouble, Y/N, if you can’t control yourself.”, he growls as he presses your palm harder against him. “Fuck, your hand feels so fucking good.”, Eddie groans as he kisses your neck. 
“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.”, Steve whispers. “I would give anything to—mmph—feel your pussy squeeze my dick. We’re going to ruin you, little one.”
Clinging tightly to his arm, you pressed your face into him as you muffled the screams that wanted to be heard. 
“Cum, pretty girl. That’s it, baby.”, Eddie urged as the coil in your belly snapped. “Good girl. Fuck.”
After sucking your slick off his index, Steve offered his hand to his friend who without hesitation licked the rest of his middle finger. 
“I knew it. I knew you tasted fucking sweet, little girl.”, he grunted as his other palm roughly grabbed your wrist, holding your hand still as Eddie rolled his hips a couple more times before shuddering a bit as he came.
Utilizing both his hands now, Steve pressed your leg harder to his crotch, grinding as subtly as he could till he grunted and his face scrunched as he soon followed. 
Calloused fingers tenderly lift your head and you softly smile when the metalhead’s lips land on yours. 
“I love you, Y/N.”
Giggling, you rub your face into his neck as you inhale his smell of soap and cigarettes. 
“I think that’s the orgasm talking.”
With a firmer grasp, Eddie tilts your chin so his eyes lock with your own. 
“I’m serious. I love you, sweetheart, and I think you love us to.”
As you turn to face Steve, he gently places your leg back down and helps you adjust your outfit. 
“I love you to, honey…very much. You don’t have to say it back or anything. We know that loving us…carries a lot of weight.”
The guards scream out into the yard that visiting hours were about to end and both boys help you gather your books as they walk you back inside. Just like every time before their eyes remain on you not wanting to look away till you’re completely out of sight. 
Pausing halfway out the door, you swivel your body their way and flash them the most beautiful smile either boy had ever seen. 
“I love you both to.”
########################
May 7th, 1997
“Please be nice to them. They aren’t what people say in the papers.”
“I certainly hope not especially since you talk to them 24/7.”, Derek sassed making you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I promise I’ll be good.”
When you don’t say anything, your boyfriend wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you to him, smiling when his lips attach to yours. 
The sound of a throat clearing startled you as a guard lingered in the doorframe with Eddie and Steve in tow. The pain that lingered in their eyes told you they caught your kiss and it killed you. 
“Alright Miss Y/L/N, you and your friend—”
“Boyfriend.”, Derek corrected. 
The officer huffed at the interruption as Steve sarcastically laughed under his breath. 
“You and your boyfriend have this room for as long as you need. We usually use it for interviews for the privacy and if you need anything I’ll be right outside.”
“Thank you, Bobby.”, you grinned politely and the officer nodded his head in return before stepping back outside. 
“Oh, first name basis with the guards. Some people would consider that a red flag, babe.”
“To be fair, her father is a cop so…”, Eddie countered as they both took a seat in front of the camera.
“He IS Mr. Munson but, to be fair, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction is it?”
As you shakily sigh and your eyes close, you feel shoes lightly tap your shin and when you open your eyes again you are met with their comforting expressions. 
“All right, boys, the camera is now rolling. Are you ready to begin?”
Both their faces twitch as your boyfriend’s flippant tone as he takes a seat beside you across from them. 
“Yeah, kid. We’re ready when you are.”
At Steve’s equally annoyed response, you felt your body tense as you immediately began regretting your decision. The sparing match was about to begin and you were just now aware this wouldn’t be an interview but a fight for dominance like animals in the wild. 
“Perfect! So, Steven Harrington and Edward Munson, you were charged for murder in the deaths of some Hawkins student’s including Chrissy Cunningham who of course the entire country now knows thanks to people in the town spreading awareness and the foundation they created in her name a few years ago. So far, you both have served 11 years of your 25-year sentence… what has that been like?”
“Well, Derek, it’s been no picnic but we have utilized the time wisely. We read and exercise out in the yard. I’ve been reading up on law and we both participate in the group therapy options provided. Eddie was able to get his GED and graduate from high school.”
“Aw that’s nice. It only took a prison sentence for you to finally finish.”, he smiles showing all of his teeth in that sarcastic manner you know very well. “Now, in your own words, can you tell me what happened to those kids that died in 1986?”
Your eyes remained zeroed in on them as they explained what they had told to you and a courtroom numerous times. Someone else killed them and circumstantial evidence made it seem like it was Eddie while a vendetta made it seem like Steve was an accomplice.
“Were you surprised, Steven, when Hawkins Lap retracted their statements in regard to certain Hawkins events including their involvement of the death of Barbara Holland?”
Steve’s eyes fluttered as he tried to hold back the feeling that bubbled in his chest. 
“Yeah, I was.”
“I imagine they did that since Eddie’s lawyer insisted on using them as a defense in this case. There’s only so much a company will allow themselves to be blamed for. What did happen with Miss Holland?”
“Derek…”, you warned.
“She was best friends with Nancy Wheeler who you were dating at the time.”
“Derek.”
“Is that why Miss Wheeler broke up with you about a year later? Or excuse me. She goes by Mrs. Byers now.”
“DEREK!”
“Y/N! You’re not their fucking lawyer so stop interrupting!”
“Don’t talk to her like that.”, Eddie growled as he sat up straighter. 
“Pfft or what? You’ll kill me to?”, Derek replied smarmily as he straightened as well. “Whether you like it or not, you two are criminals and apparently there was at least enough evidence for a jury to convict you BOTH of that. It honestly amazes me that my girlfriend can’t accept that fact.”
“She’s going to be a phenomenal lawyer especially since she doesn’t just look at what’s on the surface unlike everyone else in the town.”, Steve countered making you blush as a small smirk painted your lips. 
“Oh on the surface huh? So, Mr. Munson, you didn’t run after Chrissy was killed? Whether it be because you murdered her or someone else did, you ran and left her behind for your uncle to find, you pathetic freak.”
Eddie rose to his feet as his fists clenched but Steve hastily stopped him as he tried to calm him down. 
“When people go missing you just happen to be around, Mr. Harrington? Add in the fact that you both have similar scars that tells anyone with eyes that whatever you were involved in you did it together.”
“This is over, Derek. You promised me—”
“No, you know what’s over? This little infatuation between you and my girlfriend.”, the man rumbles as he squares his shoulders and faces them. “The letters and phone calls stop today as well as the fucking visitation.”
“No.”
“Excuse me?!”
“No.”, Eddie repeated. “We love her and we aren’t letting her go that easy.”
“Oh please! What can you two offer her?!  You still have another 14 years in here and then what? Your lives will just be smooth sailing from there?! You’ve only known here for one year and I’ve been with her for three! Trust me, guys, she needs a real man. Someone who can take care of her in every way a man should.”
“Oh yeah, little boy? Is that why when you fuck her she’s thinking about us?” 
The room went quiet for a few moments before Derek sarcastically chuckled and shifted his gaze toward you. 
“You want them so badly? Fine. I can’t wait to see your face on the fucking news after they tear you apart. At least I can get a good story out of it. Better than anything else you’ve given me this past year, you fucking whore.”
You jumped, pressing your back against the wall as Steve abruptly flipped the table over with his hand before Eddie charged at the boy and tackled him to the floor. As they began to fight each other, guards ran in to separate them, pinning both men to the floor as they held Derek back against the wall. 
Neither man look your way as officers tugged them to their feet and dragged them out of the room. 
###################
September 27th, 1997
Steve bounces his leg as they wait by the phone for your call to finally come through. You said you’d call last night but you didn’t and it killed them. They understood you were busy but you made promises to them that they desperately held on to because there was very little to hope for in their current predicament. 
“This really pisses me off, Harrington.”
“What are we going to do about it, Munson? She’s got school and her job—”
“Oh, I see. So her failing to keep her promises is only ok because we’re locked up. Got it.”
“Calm down, Eddie.”
“Don’t tell me to--! Don’t tell me to be calm. If I was free I’d have punished her already but…”
After coming to prison, Steve had a lot more time to get to know who Eddie Munson was and came to find out that they had a lot in common. Their dads were assholes, their moms weren’t present, and they seemed to have a common attraction to being the dominant partner. On nights when he was desperate and incredibly lonely, Steve would sit beside his friend and elaborate about fantasies he had, had in his head since he hit puberty. 
Both men continued to look at the brick wall in front of them as they continued stroking the other’s cock. 
“I just want to push a beautiful girl onto her knees and fuck her gorgeous face a-as she gags around my dick. I want to hold her down against the m-m-mattress and stuff myself so deep inside her till can’t walk.”
“Mmph—that kind of intimacy is…is fucking heaven. To have a woman submit like that…fuck… have you e-ever punished a brat before?” Eddie smiles when Steve shakes his head. “Fuck, man. It’s on a whole—fuck, I’m gonna cum—a whole other level.”
After thrusting his hips upwards, his release hit his friend’s hand but what surprised him was when Steve grabbed the back of his neck and pushes the man’s head onto his leaking cock. The metalhead doesn’t protest, bobbing at a quick pace as the back of his friend’s palm guides him. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby. Take it. Take all of Daddy’s cum down that sexy fucking throat.”
As soon as Steve had given him everything he had, Eddie patted the man’s thigh before climbing the little latter to his top bunk.
“Hey, Ed?”
“Hm?”
“You know when I talk about this stuff I mean…to like… a partner I’m in love with who consents to it. Like…I would never…hurt someone…”
“I know, Steven.”, the other man chuckles as he places his arms behind his head to stare at the bland ceiling. 
“Hey, Ed?”
“Hm?”
“I didn’t cross a line tonight right?”
“No, Steven, you didn’t.”
“Good because, um, you’re my best friend and you’re, um, kinda the only thing keeping me sane in here. Not just because of the…but because…I trust you.” Steve rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes as he heavily sighed. “Good night, Eddie.”
The mattress above him shifts slightly until he heard the light sound of socked feet hit the floor. An arm suddenly wraps around him pulling him back into an equally broad chest and another limb slides under his pillow under his head as calloused fingers looped through his. 
“Good night, Steve.”
They never told you about any of that because honestly that was none of your business. To them, it was survival and both men trusted each other more than anyone else. They had been through so much and knew truths that no one else did. This was sacred and special to them and they were terrified of people turning it into something dirty. 
Not that you ever would or mock them in any kind of way but they just weren’t ready to reveal that part of them to you and were pretty sure they never would. 
“We’ve never gone that far with her. I mean she said she likes it rough and we’ve said some things but we haven’t truly set up the dynamic. How do we even do that in here?”, Steve sighed. 
“Add in the fact that as soon as she calls us Daddy or Sir we’re going to want to fuck her which we can’t.”
Both men chuckle as a sad sigh leaves their chest. 
“Can’t we?” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s eyes flicked his way as he leaned against the wall behind him. “I mean a ton of the prisoners here have contraband brought in. There has to be a guard or two here who doesn’t mind bending the rules for the right price.”
“Steve Harrington, you’re playing with fire.”
“I know but—“
“Harrington! Munson! Call coming through for you!”
Both mean exchanged a glance before picking up their separate lines. 
“Y/N?”
“Hey! I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d call an hour ago but I fell asleep. I cut back some of my hours but still. These classes are so difficult.”
“We were really worried about you. We get worried when you don’t call and you missed our last visit, sweetheart.”
“I know. I’m sorry. This will never happen again. I promise!”
################
October 9th, 1997
Their demeanors were completely different this time than the many other times you had come to see them and you knew why. 
It was so hard to keep up with your school and work schedule as well as keep constant contact with two men who had a set schedule of their own set up by the prison. You were doing everything you could but you could tell from their fire filled expressions it wasn’t enough. 
“I’m sorry.”, you reiterated as they continued to glare at the table in front of them. “I really am. I’m doing my best to—”
“It’s not enough.”, Steve growled making you blink at the audacity. 
“I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose. I told you guys junior year was going to be a bit more demanding but I’d do everything I could—”
“You do everything you can yet you still make promises and don’t follow through.”
“I’m sorry I’m fucking busy, Eddie! I don’t know what else you want from me!”
Fingers dig into your bicep as the metalhead yanks you till your face is inches from his. 
“Lower your fucking voice, little girl.”
The action startles you for a second before your eyes glare back at him as your teeth clench. 
“You’re hurting me.”
As you yank your arm from his grasp, you can’t help but sigh as you see a slight glimmer of pain flash through theirs. They really did miss you and hate being away from you but unfortunately due to the circumstances they had zero control of the situation. 
“I really am trying to cut down some of the stress so I can call and see you both more. Like I said, I cut back on my hours at work and this kid in my class offered to help tutor me. He’s one of the top students in my year so I really think he can help me.”
“He?” Your head tilts at Steve’s question as both their energies shift into something new that both frightened and turned you on. “Well, that’s nice to know, Munson. First she’s working at a bar till two in the fucking morning with drunk men fucking flirting and eye fucking her and now she has a male tutor she’ll be spending her time with! No wonder we haven’t heard from her. Little whore as all she needs at home!”
Your mouth fell open as he shouted at you, feeling hurt before the anger took over. Rising to your feet, you grab your bag but as you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist. 
“We are not done talking, Y/N. We’ve put up with the disrespect for the past few months because we know you’re going through a lot but missing calls, visits, and now this? No.”
“Let me go now.”
Without releasing you, they both rose to their feet and crowded your space till Steve’s nose was touching yours and Eddie’s lips were hovering near your shoulder. 
“You’re ours, Y/N.” Steve’s eyes scan your face as your breathing stutters at his low gravelly tone. “And you will listen, little girl.”
“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you grumble back. 
“Then stop acting like one.”, Eddie adds. “Now, be a good LITTLE girl and listen to what Daddy says. Sit. Down.”
The smirk that dons his friend’s face at the title has your pussy clenching as his eyes remain locked on yours. It feels like centuries before you finally collect your bearings and shake the fog that had begun to cloud your brain. 
“Fuck you both.”
After shoving Steve’s chest hard, you quickly powerwalk out of the visitor’s room. 
***
October 12th, 1997
You woke up with a splitting headache in a room you didn’t recognize with someone’s arms wrapped around you a bit too tightly. Prying out of the boy’s grasp, you throw on a nearby shirt and tiptoe to the bathroom. 
Your eyes were still heavy from all the tears you had cried these past few days. You missed Eddie and Steve terribly but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out again. You couldn’t believe their sudden change in behavior and how they spoke to you. Had the signs always been there and you just never noticed?
They had admitted once that they weren’t jealous of Derek because they cheekily declared that “that little boy can’t make you feel like we do.” Why were they so angry about your tutor and your job? Maybe it was because school and the bar took up a lot of time whereas Derek really didn’t. Because of his own classes he was always coming and going and whenever he was present he always seemed distracted. 
To be fair, you did make promises you struggled to keep but it’s because you were so excited to finally talk to them you genuinely planned to go see them. You would literally count the minutes till your classes were done, promptly run home to shower and be ready by the time you told them but as soon as your head hit the pillow as you waited, you would pass out. 
Maybe you just needed to find something you could do on campus so you weren’t up so late at work. Yeah it would be a bit of pay cut but you could make it work. 
When it came to their attitudes, you hoped you could talk to them and tell you how it made you feel. How did it make you feel? Belittled, angry, annoyed, hurt, degraded…aroused… You had never experienced the brain fog with anyone else other than them. The headspace just seemed to come naturally when you were around them or listening to them talk. 
Even if it was them just listening to you chat about your day, you felt that giddy feeling dance through your body down to core. Any time they praised you especially after doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing; you felt a high like no other. You hadn’t told them but you had had many dreams of them suddenly appearing somewhere you were like class or the bar and having them fuck you roughly as they spanked you, pulled your hair, and held you down as they made you theirs. 
Your favorites were the ones where they were in your bed and had you tied to the headboard as both took their time with you as you begged and pleaded with them to make you cum. Your lips would ghost their own as their rough hands roamed your body and left bruises you would welcome the next morning. Their eyes would never leave yours as they took from you they wanted and you would repeatedly moan, “Daddy, please.”
Eddie mentioned the title during your last visit and from Steve’s expression you knew he enjoyed it as much as you did but they had hurt you so badly. 
You sigh as you exit the bathroom and quietly grab your pants. 
I’ll give them a few more days to cool off and then I’ll go visit them so we can talk.
As you slide on your shoes, your eyes shifted towards the Polaroid camera resting on the bedside table. 
Fuck me. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid with that thing last night. 
***
October 13th, 1997
Eddie growls loudly as he tears up your letter and throws it in the trash can nearby while Steve continues to stare at the picture of you allowing this boy to kiss what was theirs. 
“Give me that, Steven. I’m going to fucking burn it—”
“No… No. She’s playing the game, Ed. She made this move because she thinks we can’t do anything about it.”
“Because we can’t. UGH! Maybe we jumped too quickly, man. It just fucking hurt us because we don’t get to see her everyday so when she says she’ll call and she doesn’t… “
“Yeah…” Steve taps his fingers against his knee while Eddie takes another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe it’s time to have a talk with her. Show her how much we do care and how much it breaks our hearts when she breaks a promise.”
“She won’t answer out calls or letters.”
“Then we should go to her.”
The metalhead blinks as he nervously chuckles before his friend’s straight face meets his. 
“Nope. Nope. Nuh huh.” As the man begins to walk away, Steve runs after him and tugs on his arm to stop him. “Do you know how much trouble we can get in for even having this conversation? You talk to one wrong person, Steven, and we could be stuck here for another 10 fucking years.”
“What if I found the right person?”
“I…what…how?”
“How much money do you have?”
***
October 31, 1997
You faked a smile as you handed your cash to the cashier and grabbed your bags of candy as you headed for your car. Tonight, you were planning on a night in with some of your friends while handing out treats to some of the neighborhood kids. 
Truth be told, you didn’t want to do anything except curl up in bed and eat the chocolate you bought. You had tried calling the prison a few times but they informed you that neither inmate was accepting calls or visitors at this time. You sent a few letters but hadn’t received anything back as of yet. 
You missed Eddie and Steve so much and it killed you to not be able to speak to them. 
After pulling into your driveway, you hastily checked your mail before running inside to get everything together. 
Once your hair was styled and you slid on your red spaghetti strap dress to make you look like Cher in Clueless, you take a seat on your couch as you wait for your friends to arrive. 
Leaning forward, you decide to sift through the mail pausing suddenly as all the other letters fall to the floor. The envelope was marked from them like all the others and your heart did flips as you hugged the paper to you. 
As you tore the paper open, you half expected to see a lengthy note detailing how much they missed you to and when they’d want to meet with you so you could finally talk. Your stomach dropped as you read and reread the only two sentences written on the single page they sent. 
“Trick or treat, little girl.
See you tonight. 
--Steve & Eddie”
#################
@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon
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theendorisit · 4 months
Text
apropos of nothing, I made Tape-E
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Who is Tape-E?
During one of the TMA livestreams (trying to remember which one), a fan question was asked ‘Is there a mascot (for the Archives or the show itself not sure)?’ One of the team suggested ‘Tape-y?’, to which everyone else responded with ‘Oh no!!’. So I thought, oh yes! So yeah, this is your fault 😘
What is Tape-E?
As Mr Bonzo is a parody of Mr Blobby, Tape-E is a parody of Clippy (these last two names rhyme).
Who is Clippy?
Clippy was a microsoft office assistant, introduced in 1997. He was a little virtual paperclip (officially called Clippit, but that name never caught on) who sat on the bottom right corner of the page, and was programmed to give advice in popup speech bubbles when certain actions were taken. For example, if you wrote out an address and ‘Dear’, Clippy would say ‘Looks like you’re writing a letter. Would you like help?’. The name Tape-E in the livestream seemed to be referring to Clippy, as there are many similarities in the behaviour of Clippy, and the actual tapes/ tape recorders in-universe:
always on by default
appears at inconvenient times
provides help you do not want
hated by (mostly) everyone
watching you with cold dead eyes
enjoyed by nostalgia and retro seekers
Why make Tape-E?
As I am of the same generation as some of the RQ peeps, I unironically loved Clippy and Mr Blobby as a child, and it gives me great joy to imagine, in the TMP universe, Sam getting a little pop up: ‘Looks like you’re trying to code a case file! Would you like some help with that?’ In our world this would be impossible - Windows NT (as the official name) was dropped in 1996, one year before Clippy was born, BUT there is voice recording on TMP’s ancient computers, so it’s not totally impossible! 😅😁
What are cassette tapes?
Just a little recap for those who didn’t grow up with tapes: Cassette Tapes contain information embedded in magnetic tape, wrapped around one spool and attached to a second spool. When played, the spools are turned by the machine and the magnetic tape is wound onto the other spool, the information read out through speakers as the magnetic tape moves through sensors. As the magnetic tape can contain different information depending on the direction of tape movement, you can flip the cassette tape over in the machine, and play the tape again, hearing another load of information. This concept is never utilised in the show, but it does mean that cassette tapes have A-sides, and B-sides (as Vinyl records do). Here, of course, this stands for Archivist-side, and Brutalpipemurder-side. On occasion, the magnetic tapes would become damaged, or bent, and could be pushed out of the cassette, causing a horrible noise, and terror to small children who were only trying to listen to their Just William tapes. When this happened, a pencil (or in my case, my little finger) could be jammed into the spiky spool ‘teeth’, to rewind the magnetic tape back into the cassette. Maybe that’s why the eyes are red? 🩸 I am very glad that the TMA tapes are magic, and record endlessly, never need flipping, and never get chewed up by the hungry machine.
Why is the name Tape-E?
Canon answer: the name stands for Tape-Eyes. Possibly Tape-Entity? Undecided.
Actual answer: Tape-y, Tapey and Tapie spellings look weird to me. I think Tape-E looks best.
Why a tape and not a tape recorder?
if you can crochet a tape recorder, you’re a genius and I love you.
What gender is Tape-E?
I might refer to Tape-E as male sometimes because that’s how people often referred to Clippy. But Tape-E is whatever gender Tape-E feels like being.
Why now?
Why not? also now is a good time because TMP episode 15 is an excellent episode
What’s going to happen to Tape-E?
I’m going to gift it to Jonny sometime, if we get more liveshows or book signings. It’s his fault this exists after all. Plus you can write whatever you like in the speech bubbles! Hopefully I can give it calmly? But maybe Tape-E will be yeeted in his general direction in a fit of ADHD-fuelled social anxiety. Only time will tell.
Tape-E is a pattern and design created entirely by myself. The inspiration and world building from whence it came, is entirely the genius of @jonnywaistcoat Jonny Sims, Rusty Quill @rqbossman and The Magnus Archives, which is a podcast distributed by Rusty Quill and licensed under a creative commons attribution, non-commercial share alike 4.0 international license.
Clippy was invented by Microsoft and Kevan Atteberry, who now illustrates children’s books.
Mr Blobby is an adorable abomination, created from a fevered mind.
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trivia-polls-daily · 21 days
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No cheating, please! Answer the trivia question to the best of your ability, then check below the cut! Please do not give away answers in comments or tags!
Answer below:
Disney's The Hunchback Of Notre Dame (1996) was the first animated movie to cost over $100 million to produce.
https://faroutmagazine.co.uk/the-first-animated-movie-to-cost-100-million/
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jokin-around · 6 months
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do you have a voice claim for your joker? he has a very clear voice in texts and i wanted to see if you had ideas for that lol
I JUST made a post answering this question funnily enough but I'll put it here instead lol:
I know dude already voices Riddler on the audio adventures but he's a little older now and I think I prefer his younger performances
he also plays Bruno in Encanto and Tybalt in Romeo and Juliet 1996:
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also more on how write him from twitter:
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amygobrrr · 6 months
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a Jackie Taylor character analysis
or, why—
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[I'm serious btw. this is ~3800 words, or about 15 minutes reading time.]
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The Facts of the Case
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"For the record... I was trying to save you." Jackie. 1996, 1x02
(Nothing else Jackie ever says sums up who she is more succinctly than that.)
Our first real introduction to Jackie Taylor as a character—the first shot of her bedroom scene in 1x01—is a framed photo of her sitting close to Shauna, at a party. This is also the very first protagonist-centric character scene of the entire show; from the outset, we are told that the relationship between Jackie and Shauna will be critically important to the narrative. They are best friends, it's implied they do practically everything together, and right from their very first scenes we see how important they are to each other.
Yet likewise from the beginning, we see the fractures between them.
Shauna hides her acceptance to Brown from Jackie, and is uncomfortable with the assumption that she will be following her friend to Rutgers. She disapproves of Jackie's boyfriend sneaking out of her room, and is frustrated by Jackie telling her what to wear and who to hook up with. She is visibly upset at seeing Jackie and her boyfriend together at a party, and, on the way home, has sex with said boyfriend.
Jackie makes her boyfriend drop her off from the party first, forcing Shauna to wait much longer to get home. After Shauna chooses a rival plan for survival over hers, she gives her the cold shoulder, even actively tries to make her jealous. Jackie steals and reads Shauna's journal, and outs her pregnancy to the rest of the team. She sleeps with the only eligible man in the wilderness, just to try and hurt Shauna.
Jackie and Shauna may care deeply about each other, but we see them spending an awful lot of time driving wedges into the space between themselves.
So why do they behave this way? Why does Jackie fidget sadly with her necklace, why does she look at Shauna the way she does before giving the necklace to her, why is she so heartbroken over a boy she says she barely even likes, why is she so crestfallen at the idea Shauna lost her virginity without telling her, why does she pull Travis away at Doomcoming and look back at Shauna the whole time? Why does Shauna seem to think Jackie has abruptly backtracked with Jeff, why is she so disapproving when she sees Jackie leave Doomcoming with Travis, or when she sees Jeff leave her house? Why does she look so heartbroken when she sees Jackie and Jeff dancing together at the party? Why are they both so hurt and hardened towards each other at the end of it all, and yet why does Shauna's heart still seize in anguish the next morning?
I believe all of those questions have the same, straightforward answer:
Before the crash, Jackie and Shauna were hooking up with each other in secret, and never mentioning a word of it—let alone talking through their feelings for each other.
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Some Mysteries Are Better Left Unsolved
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"[Jeff and I have] been together for so long that if we're each others' firsts, then we'll be linked forever. It's more poetic that way. Oh! That reminds me—I decided on a color palette for our room at Rutgers next year." Jackie. 1996, 1x01
They make an unspoken habit of it; one always dragging the other away at parties after a few drinks under the pretense of mere friendly accompaniment. Jackie is reluctant to go all the way with her boyfriend Jeff; even after four years together, something always holds her back. She knows (or strongly believes, anyway, which is the same thing) that that's not entirely normal, and she wants more than anything to be normal, so she takes it in stages. She builds up to it with her boyfriend—slowly—and with her best friend—less slowly, but more comfortably. And it's fine—because Shauna is a girl, after all. Nothing they do together even counts. It's just fun. It's practice, for the real thing. It doesn't count.
But tipsy trysts alone aren't enough to fully explain the dynamic we see. Jackie had a change of heart regarding Jeff—what happened? Shauna seems a little hurt but also genuinely confused that they're back together at the beginning of the show, and even more so that Jackie intends to sleep with him 'for real' before college. I don't believe guilt over her actions fully accounts for her reaction. No, there is something else here, too; I think that, as important as Jackie and Shauna's clandestine hookups are to their dynamic, just as important is the fact that at some point they end. It's Jackie who puts a stop to them, possibly in the midst of the final time it happens.
I think Jackie, at a party some time around the beginning of the show—and maybe even giddy with the fresh excitement of a game or championship win—allows herself to be swept away in the moment with her best friend. Maybe she catches herself about to push too far with Shauna, about to venture into territory that she would have real trouble pretending "doesn't count," even with alcohol and adrenaline buzzing through her veins. Maybe she catches herself wishing that this could be her normal, that she could be with Shauna instead of Jeff. The specifics aren't what matters.
I think Jackie has long been vaguely aware that what she feels for Shauna falls outside of what you would expect for a friend, even a best friend. Normally, she doesn't give it a second thought; it's Shauna, of course it feels different. This time, though, she has a moment of extreme clarity about what exactly it is they're doing, and what it means that she wants it. More specifically, Jackie realizes what it says about her that she craves everything with Shauna that she cannot bring herself to crave with Jeff.
Jackie is in love with her best friend—and that makes her gay.
Jackie realizes, and the knowledge terrifies her.
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The Necklace
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"And, here... it's a good-luck charm. Now nothing can touch you." Jackie. 1996, 1x01
Our attention is drawn to Jackie's heart pendant four times in the pilot episode. In order: we see it on the body of the girl hunted in the cold open, we see Jackie fidget with it after brushing her teeth, we see her fidget with it again during the pep rally, and we see her give it to Shauna on the airplane before takeoff. Three of the four scenes feature Jackie, with only the first finding her absent. That initial sighting certainly seems the most cryptic—we learn very quickly that it's Jackie's necklace, so why is someone else wearing it?
While we would need to see through Shauna's eyes to truly satisfy that question, for now at least the fourth scene—in the airplane—provides an answer: the necklace has nomadic tendencies. Jackie gives it as a protective charm to Shauna, who doesn't seem at all surprised by the gesture. Quite the contrary, exchanging the heart feels more like a known ritual between the two, maybe even first established during the trip to Hilton Head that Jackie references in preamble. (This ritual will be repeated—in the other direction—when Shauna gives Jackie a pep talk in 1x05.) Shauna holds the pendant close, clutching it with her entire fist. The thing seems just as precious to her now as it does to Jackie in the remaining scenes; perhaps it was originally a gift from one to the other?
Regardless of whether or not we are meant to infer that the necklace was a gift, in the pep rally scene we are explicitly shown that Jackie does strongly associate it with Shauna. It's a very brief moment in comparison to the full scene we get on the airplane—just one look exchanged, a set of smiles shared. After the Yellowjackets stream into the gym and line up to victorious music, Shauna looks past Lottie over to Jackie. And Jackie is already looking back, smiling as she plays with the heart pendant. Shauna's own grin widens, full and genuine, until it reaches all the way to her eyes. Jackie savors the look for a moment, then glances away, smile unbroken... her goal seemingly achieved.
What goal?
The bathroom scene is an even quicker blip than the gym, yet I believe it's the most impactful and telling of the four. One single shot with a punch-in. Jackie brushes her teeth quickly and then gazes in the mirror, looking forlorn as she fiddles with the necklace. On its own this one scene is not particularly remarkable—its true significance comes from the two others it glues together.
The scene preceding is the aforementioned bedroom introduction. Jackie is in bed with Jeff and he is clearly pushing their activities farther than she finds comfortable. Jackie fakes it to get things over with, powering through as he tells her he loves her. She lets Jeff think he's doing well... and as her immediate reward is coaxed into reciprocating his advances, and then some.
Jackie scrubs her teeth violently. She is unhappy.
The scene following is the car ride with Shauna where we learn that Jackie has suddenly gotten back together with Jeff. When Shauna brings him up, Jackie laughs and shrugs it off, but not before a flash of nervousness escapes in her chuckle—she tries twice to change the subject away from her boyfriend, only finding success once they pass a sign prompting her to talk shit on the boys' baseball team by singing the praises of the girls' own soccer team. Jackie leans out the window as her best friend rolls her eyes and giggles at her antics.
Jackie whoops for joy. She is happy.
Viewed as a whole, the sequence paints a clear picture: Jackie does not truly want to be with her boyfriend. She is unhappy both while and after she is alone with Jeff, happy while alone with Shauna, and while truly alone between the two encounters, draws some kind of strength from the necklace we know she associates with Shauna. In the car, she is eager to turn conversation away from her boyfriend and onto her best friend.
In her mind, everything she's doing with Jeff, everything she's letting him do with her? She is doing it to save her friendship with Shauna. She is working to build plausible deniability.
"I have a curfew too, you know." "Yeah, but... you know what my parents are like." Shauna and Jackie. 1996, 1x01
Conformity is the only weapon Jackie has against her parents' expectations, and naturally she is an expert in its misuse. Plausible deniability is the only tool at her disposal to avoid scaring Shauna away, and so Jackie picks up a double major. Half her work is already done; it's not like they'd ever talked about what they were doing or what it meant, so she can count on Shauna to never bring it up—as long as Jackie withdraws to the safety of being normal best friends.
If Shauna knew the truth, if she knew what Jackie cannot un-know... she would walk away, their friendship ruined, and it would be Jackie's fault. It would be Jackie's fault for being this way, and so the other half of her work must be undertaken. Jeff is living proof that whatever they've done together wasn't real, that Jackie could never be interested in her friend that way. Jeff, therefore, must stay, so that Shauna will stay. Jackie must be strong, for Shauna.
Each of the three necklace scenes Jackie has in the pilot shows us something very specific about her relationship to Shauna. On the airplane, Jackie wraps Shauna in her love—for protection. In the privacy of her bathroom, Jackie wraps herself in Shauna's love—for strength.
And in the gym, in public, Jackie suns herself in the warmth of their friendship—her strength rewarded.
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Abandonment and the Wilderness
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"What did I do? When did you stop wanting me to be your best friend?" Jackie. 1996, 1x07
The thought of Shauna replacing her with another is something Jackie dreads above almost all else. Whether in conflict, in resolution, or both, most of the battles and the skirmishes that we see play out between the two revolve around this fear.
Shauna gets upset and causes trouble at the party in the woods before seeming hurt that Jackie hasn't complimented her, so Jackie attempts reassurance by emphasizing how important their friendship is. Her choice of approach here seems at least partly motivated by a guilty conscience (with a side of projection): deep down, she knows that she is trying to replace Shauna... with Jeff. Jackie feels guilty for ending their hookups in favor of her boyfriend, so she assuages that guilt by firmly stating no, Shauna, you're not going anywhere. Jeff could never be my best friend. Only you. This fight ends when Shauna confirms she understands her importance to Jackie.
(As an aside, the timid "Hi" and "Are... are we cool?" Jackie greets Shauna with after the team-building exercise have such a soft lilt to them that they seem decidedly more than friendly.)
After the crash, Shauna snubs Jackie's plan for survival in favor of Taissa's—so Jackie gets buddy-buddy with Mari. Here, Jackie nakedly projects her fear through her actions: Shauna wants to choose Tai over Jackie, well, we'll see how she likes it when Jackie chooses Mari over Shauna. Things are only patched over between them when Shauna comes to Jackie with extra blankets saying she is scared and needs her best friend. Jackie melts at once.
This next one is not really a fight, but does involve reassurance: when the team grows annoyed with Jackie for not pitching in, Shauna pulls her aside to try and find something she can do. Jackie flunks out of badass butchering school, so Shauna switches gears to attempt a pep talk, which goes badly until she lands on the winning words.
"You taught me how to be like this, you know. You make people think things are gonna be okay, just by showing up and being your dumb, hot, awesome self. At least you always did that for me." Shauna. 1996, 1x05
Jackie softens, but holds firm on putting a knife through a deer knee, which Shauna accepts, but counters that Jackie still needs to find something to do. "We need you, Jackie." Shauna pulls out her trump card—she returns the heart pendant to its place around Jackie's neck. "I mean, you're basically the best, remember?" she says. Jackie preens, and a hug seals the deal.
By the time Taissa leads her ill-fated expedition away from the cabin, Shauna has been sneaking around around conspiring with her for a while, so Jackie jumps on the opportunity to corner her and demand an answer. This fight also happens to be when Jackie finally gives voice to the worry she carries; she openly wonders what she could have done to make Shauna want to replace her. And again, the fight ends not so much when Shauna spills a half-truth, but when Shauna allows her to simply be there. Jackie's relief is palpable as she stays cheerful for her best friend, wrapping her in maybe the tightest hug we see throughout the entire show.
Throughout the entire season, virtually all conflict between Jackie and Shauna can ultimately be solved—in Jackie's view, at least—by a reassurance that they will still be best friends no matter what. That is the core of the matter to Jackie, the driving force behind everything she does; she can withstand any blow, weather any storm as long as her best friend remains by her side. Shauna's love will carry her through.
Jackie fears being replaced, because more than anything... she fears being unloved.
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Sic Transit Gloria Mundi
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"It's funny, I used to pretend I didn't know if I loved Jeff, when the truth is: I didn't even like him that much. And I was so mad at Shauna, but now I realize she's right! Friendship doesn't matter. Love? Doesn't matter. They're just things we use to pretend like we aren't gonna end up like dead cabin guy, like rotted-out husks in some bullshit attic. But of course that's how it ends. That's all we are the whole time. It doesn't matter. We're just shells with nothing inside." Jackie. 1996, 1x09
Whatever reassurance Jackie has gleaned by the time of the pregnancy half-confession is shattered once again by the revelations contained in Shauna's journal—and yet, she doesn't seem to give up on Shauna entirely... until the end of their explosive argument.
Jackie spends the bulk of 1x08 and 1x09 depressed, bitchy, and passive-aggressive, yes—but through it all, she tries to make things work. She outs Shauna's pregnancy to lend urgency to Laura Lee's mission, but conspicuously deflects questions about the father, despite having the opportunity to go for the jugular. She does her Doomcoming preparations side by side with Shauna, makes her entrance to the party itself next to Shauna; continues to smile at Shauna when she's not looking.
Jackie doesn't cut ties with Shauna—to the contrary, she gives her multiple opportunities to course-correct. When Shauna confronts her about spilling the secret of her pregnancy to the group, Jackie responds with "It's not really the time to be keeping secrets." While wandering through the forest together picking flowers for decoration, Jackie brings up Rutgers before asking "You ever think about what we'd be doing if we hadn't crashed?" and stating—even more plainly—"What if this is it, Shauna? Everything we did, everything we didn't do? All the mistakes that we made, it's like... permanent." In both cases, Jackie knows what Shauna is still trying to keep from her—Jeff, Brown—and is handing her an opening to come clean.
When Shauna deflects away from her mistakes, Jackie scoffs. "Well, I was naïve. I realize that now," she muses.
Jackie still looks back at Shauna to make sure her friend is watching as she leaves the dance on her way to sleep with Travis; to make sure she cares. Just like she did with Mari at the lake, Jackie is trying to inflame Shauna's jealousy—all the way up until the very end, right up to the moment when uncertainty becomes lost to her entirely, Jackie still holds onto hope that deep down, Shauna cares for her.
In her attic confession to Travis, Jackie contrasts friendship with love—directly after explicitly stating that she never loved Jeff.
She is very obviously talking about Shauna.
Shauna was supposed to be the one person who truly loved her. The one person who loved Jackie, not as a soccer captain (like the team did), or as just a girl (like her boyfriend did), or as the mirage of perfect daughter (like her parents did), but loved her as her, as Jackie. Shauna's journal reveals even that to be a lie.
Jackie sees now... she sees that none of it matters.
The curse of the viewer is that we see what Jackie never does. We see morning light fall on the snow, sparkling. We see Shauna fall on her knees, screaming. We see the inhabited meat shed, and the pyre, and the bacchanal, and the empty meat shed, and the bridge and the uniform and the childhood bedroom. Jackie, however, is neither prophetic nor clairvoyant; all she sees is an incomplete account of Shauna's actions. She certainly doesn't see the whole picture, can't imagine the chain of events that drove Shauna to such extremes. Jackie is hurt, not over Jeff—though he provides her with a convenient excuse to the others—but over what Shauna being willing to sleep with him says to her about how Shauna must view their friendship.
Shauna has told her that love and friendship don't matter. The romantic love Jackie knew she didn't feel for Jeff, the romantic love she believed Shauna didn't feel for her, and the platonic love she believed Shauna did; none of them mattered, none of them ever existed. Jackie shaped herself into a shell by pretending, a shell perfectly tailored to accept what Shauna was willing to give—only to find that what her friend really handed to her was rotting faster than Jackie could build the husk around it. But it's not until the night after Doomcoming that Shauna twists the knife in Jackie's heart, removing any last shred of doubt.
And that, more than anything else, is what breaks Jackie in the end; the knowledge that Shauna never cared for her.
"I'm sure everyone back home is so FUCKING sad to be losing their perfect little princess, but they'll never know how tragic, and boring, and insecure you really are. Or how high school was the best your life was EVER gonna get." "Fuck you." Shauna and Jackie. 1996, 1x10
"I don't even know who you are anymore." "Or maybe you never did." The last words Jackie and Shauna ever spoke to each other. 1996, 1x10
Jackie was trying her best, she really was. She offered Shauna her love in the form of everything she endured to keep Jeff in front of her, and therefore to keep their friendship intact. Shauna knows Jeff is her boyfriend, she knows he's off-limits, and yet she gets pregnant by him anyway. Jeff is Jackie's shield (her beard; not that she would know THAT term), her proof that all is right and she can be normal. Shauna ripped that protection away from her. From Jackie's perspective, she saw Shauna take her love, crush it underfoot, and spit right in her face. Not only does Shauna not love her back the way Jackie wants, but she doesn't love her even as a friend.
Jackie is, at this point, totally convinced that no scrap even of the friendship she was so desperately clinging to really exists. Everything she feels for Shauna is unrequited—everything except, of course, the anger and the hurt. So when her attempt to banish Shauna backfires and she is told to leave instead, Jackie listens; she walks outside to reenact the ending of Romeo & Juliet.
Jackie tried hard, so hard, not to let her baggage—her longing—ruin her most valued friendship, or push away the most important person in her life... and in the end it was all for nothing. She lost her anyway.
Or worse, she never even had her in the first place.
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On her way to oblivion, Jackie dreams of being loved.
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If you read all the way to the end here, you're the best, especially cause tumblr posts are so <--> narrow. I'm sorry for leaving things on such a downer note... but Yellowjackets do be that way.
this has been Jackie's side of things—I have a partially-written follow-up half from Shauna's perspective, but it has proven even harder to stick to some semblance of objectivity when arguing from Shauna's POV than it was for Jackie. if this one resonates with people I might refactor and finish part 2, we'll see.
in the meantime though, if you agree with my conclusions in this essay and hunger for a taste of Shauna's side, check out this "Jackie lives" fic I wrote:
featuring 4k of Tai trying to get Shauna to use her words, followed by 6k of Shauna's words! I wrote it between bouts of working on this (some snippets I cut from the Shauna section for being too un-essay-like made it in there), and it pretty much assumes everything I talk about here, both Jackie's-character-wise and jackieshauna-history-wise, holds true. except, of course, the part where Jackie stays dead lol
later haters (mari and crew)
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whoreish-behaviour · 2 years
Text
Can you handle that?
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If you haven't watched Scream 1996 (how?!) please pleasee go watch this scene - (Timestamp 3:25 specifically) :))
This is like a modern version.
Part 2
Ghostface x Fem!Reader
Warnings ; dubcon, coercion, voyeurism, guided masturbation, phone sex?, slight overstim
The popcorn popped gently in the background as you endlessly scrolled through your phone, looking for any horror movies that peaked your interest.
Boring.
Predictable.
Wayy too gory.
Dropping the phone onto the counter, you huffed in annoyance as you rested your head on your hand. The popping sound filled the otherwise silent kitchen, the house being empty of its usual life.
You raked your brain for ideas now you were finally alone. And now that you thought about it more, it had been a while since your hands traced your body as you dived head first into self-please.
Yeah, you knew exactly what you were going to do.
The thought alone already had your thighs squeezing together.
Just as your were turning to shut off the stove, your phone vibrated below you. Eyebrows furrowed, your eyes scanned the name.
No Caller ID.
Shrugging, you picked up the phone without a care and pressed the little green button.
'Hello?'
'Hello.' An unfamiliar voice responded back.
'Yes?'
'Who is this?' Hadn't he called you first..?
"I think you have the wrong number.' You pursed your lips.
'I don't think I do and you didn't answer my question.'
His suddern steriness made you nervous and your thighs shudder.
Jesus, had it really been that long?
'I think I’m gonna go, you definitely dialed the wrong number. See you.' You announced quickly and before he could even speak two words, you hung up.
Before you could even place the phone back on the counter, it vibrated again in your hand.
You hesitated on pressing 'answer', however your curiosity about what he wanted grew stronger until eventually you caved.
'Hello?' You hoped he didn't hear your voice quiver.
'We weren't finished talking, were we sweetheart?' The nickname made you swallow thickly and clench your fist.
'I think we definitely are now.' You tried to sound stern, not wanting some man over the phone to think he had any kind of control over you.
'Hang up again and you'll regret it.'
"Fuck I will." You argued back before doing exactly what he told you not to do.
You tossed the phone on the counter, before turning your back to it completely. Sure, he had shaken you but that was exactly what he wanted.
It was probably just an ego boost for him to freak woman out over the phone, picturing their scared faces in their own homes.
Fucker.
The phone vibrated consistency where it laid, however you stared mindlessly at the ceiling, cursing out the universe for ruining the mood.
You began to chew your nails, his words ringing in your head.
You'll regret it.
An incoming text made your ears prick, looking over your shoulder and down at the device. The text made your heart jump against your ribs.
Unknown Number - Answer the phone.
Unknown Number - Now.
The text didn't hold any explanation marks but you knew that he wasn't fucking around anymore. Your stomach sank as your ringtone yet again rang out.
Last chance, before what? You didn't know.
The phone was in your hand again, thumb pressing down on the screen as you brought it up to your ear.
'Whats got you all nervous over there? Never had a punishment before hm?' His implication made you shived with fear.
He couldn't see you, could he..?
'Or maybe its just because you haven't touched that sweet cunt of yours in a while..' You gasped out loud, pure shock and heat blooming on your face.
'You sick fuck-'
'Ah ah, thats no way to talk to me sweetheart.' He scowled, voice deep and dripping with dominance. Against your better judgement, your core responded.
'What do you want?" Your voice was quiet, all confident gone.
"I just wanna play a game is all.' His tone almost mocked you, as if you had no reason to be terrified.
'What kind of game?' You body shrink as you waited for his response. He seemed to think about it for a second, the silence killing you softly.
'It involves you taking off them soaked panties and sitting your pretty self on that counter for me.'
You froze as he once again rendered you speechless. You hand holding the phone shook as your mouth ran dry.
'Can you handle that?' He teased.
You didn't know what to be more disturbed by: his request or that your body throbbed in response. Theres no way you wanted this..right?
Would that make you just as bad as him?
You gulped, looking at all the windows - wondering if you'll see a glimpse of his shadow. That was if he was even watching you.
'Quit acting so modest, you think I haven't noticed that little stunt you've been pulling with them thighs of yours.' He almost whispered as if it was a dirty taboo thing (it was).
''I don't kn-'
'Now sweetheart.'
You don't know what possessed you. Maybe it was his veil of seduction or just your horniness but you found yourself thumbing at the band of your panties.
Would it be so bad? To have a stranger watch you touch yourself? It sounded like some corny porno.
'If you don't move within the next 2 seconds, I'll come tie you to the fucking table myself.' His voice dropped, his frustration becoming evident.
And that was more than enough for you to clamber up onto the cool marble, contrast to your hot clammy skin, hands already working your underwear down your sticky thighs.
It dropped to the floor with a disgustingly wet slap! You grimaced as you picked your phone up once again.
'Look who's finally behaving herself. Put me on loud speaker and face the patio window.' You heart beat up against your ribcage as you did as you where told.
'Mhm, look at youu.' He dragged out the 'you', adding a playfulness to the tension building. You shivered as his statement solidified that was he indeed watching you.
'Now spread those pretty thighs for me, let me see the mess I made.' You felt yourself drip even more as each word left his mouth.
You gently lifted your legs - feet resting on the counter with you and spread your knees apart.
The cold air against your pussy made you whimper as you clenched around nothing.
'Fuck, I knew you were a slut.' He groaned and you almost moaned right back at him from the sound alone.
'Trace them beautiful thighs for me sweet.' He spoke low and stern.
Your right hand trembled as you ran it down your stomach, across your hip and finally to your thigh, your left hand staying behind you to support your body.
You allowed just the every tips of your fingers to run across your skin, nerves making them shake slightly.
'Mhm good girl. Now get closer.'
You did, your whole body shaking from anticipation as your nails grazed where you need it most. Everything felt wet and you whined at the lack of stimulation.
'You need it that bad huh pretty girl? Go on, touch that pussy.' He pushed and you wasted no time.
You first ran your fingers down your slit, collecting that sweet arousal until it coated your fingers. You then moved up to your clit, rubbing your clit in quick circles.
'No, no - slower. Can't have you coming too quick, can we?' He tutted, redirecting you before you got too carried away. You moaned in response but obeyed nevertheless.
Your fingers slipped every now and then as your whined and moaned into the quiet again. The man on the phone encouraged you continuously, dragging you closer and closer to the edge.
'Good fucking girl.'
'Keep rubbing that puffy clit for me. That's ittt.'
'I can see you dripped down on the fucking table - you're so desparate.'
The only words that left your lips were 'Please' as you threw your head back, rubbing your clit harder until he scolded you to slow down once again.
'If you need it that bad, put a finger inside that tight cunt and fuck yourself 'till you cum.' You almost cried out in happiness as you slid your hands lower, a single finger entering you.
'Fuck I can hear that sloppy pussy through the phone, put me closer.' You responded with a quiet 'okay' and moved the phone closer to in between your legs.
'Go on, fuck that cunt.' He ordered and your once again threw your head back, moving your finger faster.
You curled your middle finger up against your G spot until you felt that pit in your stomach built up once again. This time you didn't care what he said, you were going to make yourself come.
You also slid your left hand in and rubbed your clit, your coordination slightly off but you didn't care, it was working.
'Come for me pretty girl.'
That was your final straw as your felt everything you had built crumble between your legs. Your hips bucked up against your own hands and you dropped back flat against the surface below you.
'Move your hands sweet girl, let me see.' He cooed at you and you did as you were told, bringing your hands up to rest on your chest.
'Fuck, you rubbed your poor pussy raw babe.' He faked sympathy but you were too busy trying to catch your breathe.
'But don't get too comfortable, keep going.' You froze.
'W-What..?'
'You heard me, sit up and. Keep. Going.' He ordered and you couldn't even splutter a response. You back ached as you sat up, thigh trembling and twitching.
You slid your hand down, soaked with you arousal, back down to your pulsing core.
However, as your fingertips came in contact with your clit, your hips bucked away as the painful surge of overstimulation shocked through you.
'I-I cant.'
'You can.' He instantly spoke back, 'I wanna see you come from those pretty fingers again.'
You decided to leave your clit and slide lower, reentering your middle finger into your quivering core. But even then, you flinched away from sensitivity.
'It's too sensitive.' You whined, retracting your hand away completely.
It went quiet for a bit and you gulped, scared you had somehow pissed him off. Even though you had been good for him, all things considered.
'Fine,' You breathed out a sigh of relief and rested your head back.
'I guess I'll just have to do it myself.'
You bolted upright, uncomfortable as your pussy slid against the now warm counter.
'What did you just say..?'
'I'll give you a 5 minute head start, go hide and if I don't find you - you get off scot free.' He said, 'I promise not to peek.' his voice light and airy while you choked silently.
'But-'
'5 minutes.' He said before he hung up.
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