#carol joyce

[prim-moth]

Happy Valentine’s Day to me and my beloved, @iamjessemccartney with our darling boys!!💖💖

[hot-patootiee]

Flowers of Contempt

To show his hatred for one King Steve, Eddie begins to weld beautiful flowers with insults imbued into them to gift Steve. Steve does not know flower language.

Misunderstandings, forced intoxication, alcohol poisoning, fear and threat of rape (no, it does not actually occur), groping (sexual assault), physical assault, none of these are between Steve and Eddie, Tommy is his own warning.

Part 1… Part 4 <Part 5>Part 6

A little 2 in one day update, and the wonderful Joyce Byers makes an appearance.

——————

“Tommy, what the fuck are you doing here?”

“I planned this, I have a right to show up!” Tommy combatted aggressively, moving and sitting right next to where Steve was sitting. Steve felt shivers wrack his body as Tommy’s hand made contact with Steve’s thigh. Steve quickly flinched away, curling into the sofa.

“Calm down, I’m sorry if I startled you.” Tommy put his hand on Steve’s knee, rubbing it in a comforting fashion and ignoring Steve’s flinch at the contact.

“Get out of my house Tommy.” Steve commanded, doing his best to force the slur out of his voice.

“No Steve, we need to talk. You said we would still be friends and now you’re avoiding me and trading me for that Munson Freak.” Tommy’s frustration leaked into his voice but Steve could only focus on the hand that had creeped from his knee to his inner thigh.

“We can talk some other time.” Steve suggested in a shaky voice.

“Why not now?” Tommy spat out, leaning further into Steve’s space.

“Because I’m drunk and you’re really scaring me!” Steve cried out, pushing Tommy away from him. He curled up, burying his face in his hands.

“What are you scared of?”

All Steve could do was whimper, struggling to keep up in his intoxicated state.

“I’ve never done anything to suggest I’d hurt you. What do you think I’m gonna do?” Tommy pulled Steve’s hands away from his own face, forcing Steve to look at Tommy.

Steve shook his head frantically, trying to pry his wrists from Tommy’s grip. Steve’s wrists hurt as his skin rubbed and twisted in Tommy’s hands.

“Stop touching me!” Steve cried out, attempting to push Tommy away with his feet.

“You think I’m some sort of predator because I love you?” Tommy leered, anger infecting him. His grip tightened and Tommy became more forceful.

“No, it’s because I told you no and you don’t care! You told me how willing I’d be to have sex with you while I’m intoxicated. Now I’m drunk and you’re here! Can’t you see how scary this is for me?” Steve cried, trying to reason with Tommy, but Tommy wasn’t listening.

“You think I’d fucking rape you?” Tommy’s rage made his hands tremble.

Steve couldn’t respond, he just tucked his chin down and began to cry harder. Tommy forced a leg between Steve’s and forced Steve’s arms to go behind his own head. Steve yelped at the burn of pain in his thighs at the forced intrusion. His shoulders creaked dangerously at the twisted position of his arms.

“You think I’d fucking rape you?” Tommy repeated, mouth just a breath away from Steve’s.

“Please don’t do this, please Tommy. I’m so sorry, please get off of me.” Steve begged, pushing himself as far into the couch as he could manage.

“You seriously think I would?” Tommy questioned again, pushing himself off of Steve and back onto the couch next to him.

Steve couldn’t talk anymore, only able to let out gibberish laden sobs as he curled in on himself. Steve couldn’t even see through the blur of his tears, no longer able to tell what Tommy was doing.

One thing that Steve knew would happen now, was Tommy would get angry.

It wasn’t a surprise when his jaw was forced open by cruel hands and the neck of the whiskey bottle was forced down his throat. The glass clinked against his teeth, sending a shooting pain through his mouth. The burning liquid carved rivers down his throat as Steve gagged and choked. He tried not to swallow it but whatever he managed to stop was spat out from around the neck of the bottle and ran down his chin and neck in rivets. Steve struggled against Tommy, pushing away the bottle and twisting his head until it fell, spilling whiskey all over the couch.

“You better hope some fucking rapist doesn’t come for you now. Maybe I should call everyone and tell them party at Steve’s, bet that freak would show up just to fuck you when you’re too fucked up to say no.” Steve could barely hear Tommy as he gagged, puking onto the couch.

“With that sort of a gag reflex, you’d be shit blowing someone.” Tommy laughed as Steve dry heaved. When Steve stopped puking, he was tugged up from his hunch by his hair. He was forced to look at Tommy through half lidded eyes which were blinded by tears.

“It’s not like your dick would even work on this much booze.” Tommy’s hand was suddenly between Steve’s legs and roughly cupping his soft dick. He pressed cruelly into Steve’s dick, watching as Steve yelped in pain and tried to wreathe away.

“Can’t believe I was ever friends with such a little fucking faggot.”

Steve felt only relief when he heard the door shut. He got up, stumbling to the phone before realizing he had nobody to call.

He fingered drunkenly through the yellow book before stopping when he recognized the name Byers.

He struggled to dial their number with shaking hands, nearly passing out at the sight of the rotating numbers.

He could barely recall if he had remembered to say who he wanted to reach. But when the ringing ceased a woman picked up.

“Hello?” She sounded tired.

“Can I s-peak to Jon’a’than?” Steve slurred out.

“Who is this? Are you okay?”

“St-eve, I need he-help.” Steve hiccuped, keeping all his focus on keeping the phone stable.

“Steve, I’m Joyce, can you tell me where you are?”

“I know ‘ur Joyce, good mam.” Steve giggled, pain jolting through his lip at his laughter.

“Where are you?”

“228 Lo’ca Nora”

“I’ll be down there in a minute.”

“I’m sorr’-ee, shouldn’ve called, did-ent know who to call.” Steve whimpered out, struggling to keep the phone in his hand.

“It’s okay Steve.”

There was shuffling on the other line before it cut. Leaving Steve on the ground and clutching his phone as the dial tone rang in his ear.

Suddenly his front door was opening. Steve stayed curled up on the ground clutching the phone. The footsteps moved around a little until they gradually got closer. Steve jolted when a hand touched his shoulder.

“-eve Steve!” Her voice finally came into focus and Steve looked up at her, seeing Joyce Byers in person for the first time.

“He’lo Joy’”

“Hey kid, I think you need the hospital, you might have alcohol poisoning.”

“I didn’t wa’na drink that much! Tom’e made me.”

“I can tell, you’re bleeding.”

“Huh?” Steve reached up and touched his mouth, his finger came back covered in blood.

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“Di’nnt think of it.”

Steve glanced over to the couch and noticed the whiskey bottle was completely empty.

How much did Tommy force down his throat?

That’s the last thing Steve could remember clearly.

…

Steve woke up to the crushing pain in his head. The light was painfully bright as his eyes flickered open. The low beeps of the heart monitor triggered sharp pain in his ears which made him groan in pain.

He could hear the rustling of someone next to him and turned to find Joyce sitting next to him in an uncomfortable chair with tired eyes.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Joy’ce!” Steve coughed out, smiling at her.

“I’ll take that as better.” Joyce smiled, squeezing Steve’s hand and alerting him to the face she had been holding his hand.

“Your parents caught the first flight home and should be back in an hour or so.The chief also will be down later, so you can decide if you want to press charges.” Joyce relayed to him calmly.

“Wah’ta?”

“Oh! Of course, I’ll go get you a cup.” Steve struggled to track her movements, eventually just giving up and waiting passively. Steve only focused again when the cup was being pressed to his mouth and Steve began to drink, soothing his injured throat.

“They had to pump your stomach, they noticed evidence of assault, so someone will come in later to photograph your injuries.” Joyce winced as she spoke, struggling to get through the information.

Steve was already feeling tired, and only nodded at Joyce before falling back asleep.

…

“Do you know what happened to our son?”

“I didn’t see much, but it looked like someone attacked him. He kept talking about some guy named Tommy and being forced to drink. There was an empty bottle of whiskey and Steve was covered in alcohol.”

“Hagan” Steve’s dad said evenly, anger making his voice tense and strained.

“D’ad” Steve slurred out as he struggled to pull himself from fuzzy unconsciousness.

“Steven what happened?”

Steve shook his head, staring at his lap in shame, “You’ll get mad.”

“No, we won’t, we just need to get what happened straight for the police report.” His father assured him.

“I was drinking with Carol, we were just chilling out, gossiping y’know. Then, Tommy showed up, specifically after I told her I didn’t want to have him over, she left to wait in his car. He was mad I was becoming friends with another guy at school and flipped out on me. I was scared because he made a joke earlier about getting me drunk…” Steve trailed off, looking over the faces in the room. It was only Joyce and his parents, but he was unsure if he should continue.

“Steven what joke did he make about getting you drunk?” His dad stressed, struggling to keep his composure.

“I don’t wanna get him in trouble, I just want him to go away!” Steve cried out, twisting his fingers in the blanket.

“We can do that, only if you tell us what happened, Joyce can leave if you want more privacy.” His dad said evenly.

“No! Joyce is nice, good with a hammer. It’s just if this gets out, bad things would happen to me and Tommy.” Joyce flushed at his comment, gaping at him in shock for a second before closing her mouth.

Steve’s dad went over to the door, locking it.

“What bad things sweetie?” Steve’s mother asked, she moved to sit down on the bed and began stroking his hair.

“People would hunt us, you guys would kick me out.” Steve peered tearfully at his parents.

“Nothing could make us do that.” Steve’s father affirmed.

Steve couldn’t look at either of them, instead focusing on Joyce who was attentive, but looked incredibly tired.

“Tommy kissed me in the locker room at school on Monday. I told him I didn’t like him like that and he left me alone for a bit. Then when he came back he was talking about going to a party or coming over to mine and getting wasted. I told him I didn’t want to and he said something about how nice I’d be to fuck once I got drunk.” Steve rambled out. He looked up at the adults’ horrified faces, watching for any hint of anger getting turned toward him. He didn’t find any, so he continued his horror struck recollection of events.

“And then I was drunk and he was there, so I was scared he was going to rape me.” Steve took a deep breath, looking at his lap, unable to look at his parents as his mother began to cry. “I kept telling him to leave and not to touch me. He was getting really mad and grabbed my wrists, I explained to him why I was scared and then he freaked out. He got on top of me and yelled at me and I thought he was going to…” Steve sniffled, beginning to cry in earnest as he tried to finish the story.

“I begged him not to. He kept asking why I’d think he’d do something like that. He got off me, but then he grabbed the whiskey and forced the neck of the bottle down my throat. I got the bottle out of my mouth and I threw up, I couldn’t hear what he was saying. He yanked my head back and grabbed my- crotch and said with this much booze I wouldn’t be able to get it up. He called me faggot and left.” Steve sobbed into his free hand, involuntary tremors wracked his body. The room was enveloped in silence, it pierced his ears and invaded Steve’s skull making him retreat further into himself.

His scraped innards lay on the hospital bed for the adults to scrutinize. For a moment there was nothing, but then Steve’s mother grabbed him, for a second he was afraid, but then she hugged him. She squeezed his shoulders and shoved her wet, teary face into the crook of Steve’s neck.

“Why would we ever be mad at you for that?” She questioned.

“Because even if I don’t like Tommy the same way he likes me. I still like boys like that.”

Part 6

AN:Eddie and Robin will be back soon, I promise. Joyce just needs a little mom time with Steve.

A little fun fact for next chapter- Steve has no idea what ‘cases’ his parents are out of town on. This will make him seem incredibly paranoid and scared for absolutely no reason.

Tag list @wormapothacary

[ravenkings]

she is an all-time poster, i fear

[belamercado]

"Memory blurs, that's the point. If memory didn't blur you wouldn't have the fool's courage to do things again, again, again, that tear you apart."

- Joyce Carol Oates, from We Were the Mulvaneys (Plume, 1997)

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Dark Days Coming

King: hey guys sorry i'm late King: i just could not get up this morning King: feels like I've been sleeping for days King: what did i miss? King: how did the election go? Lovecraft: not too bad King: King: oh no King: oh no oh no oh no

Lovecraft: don't worry steve it won't be so bad Lovecraft: I've heard assurances from the new regime that they only want the trade unionists King: King: King:

Lovecraft: i mean really steve Lovecraft: how bad could it be? [meanwhile] Donald Trump: we're gonna have the biggliest boot stamping on a human face forever Trump: we love the boot stamping on the human face forever, don't we folks? Trump: more and more people are saying they love the boot

Lovecraft: you're overreacting steve Lovecraft: what's trump even going to do? King: well i'm glad you asked King: [unrolls comically long scroll] Lovecraft: oh is this going to be a song

King: well for starters King: decimate reproductive rights King: LGBTQ rights King: labor rights King: civil rights King: accelerate climate change Lovecraft: [sweats] this is making me feel bad steve Lovecraft: i can't wait for trump to outlaw you telling me this stuff!

King: use the military to brutalize americans King: abandon Ukraine King: and as for gaza George Romero: in all honesty steve Romero: that probably won't change much King: oh look! an optimist!

Lovecraft: ok but Lovecraft: has he actually SAID he's going to do any of that? King: yes Lovecraft: oh he was probably just lying Lovecraft: he lies a lot Poe: he does lie a lot

Lovecraft: i think you're overreacting, he's probably not gonna do all the stuff he says he's gonna do King: so you don't believe him? Lovecraft: nope! King: king: then what's his appeal? Lovecraft: well he's just so honest

Lovecraft: a real straight shooter Lovecraft: tells it like it is Lovecraft: says what he means King: King:

King: howard please tell me you didn't vote for trump did you? Lovecraft: [sweats] steve! please! Lovecraft: i'm only a loveable archie bunker style racist Lovecraft: i'm still 100% yang gang King: King: King: i picked a bad day to quit cocaine

King: i really need some cocaine King: edgar you know where i can get some cocaine don't you Poe: steve stay strong Poe: you don't need cocaine King: just one bump King: to get me through the next four years King: i mean few days King: no i mean four years

King: how about a beer? i was an alcoholic too you know King: maybe i'll take that up again King: this is good drinking weather Poe: steve no Poe: dean help me hold him back King: don't try to stop me! Poe: no steve! you've got so much to live for! King: yeah? like what? Poe: well Poe: you've got a loving family King: Joe is pretty great Koontz: and owen! King: King: yeah and owen is alright too i guess

King: yeah he's pretty good King: what the heck, i can say it King: i love owen too! Koontz: and there's naomi too King: whoa wait a second, i have THREE kids?? King: this just keeps getting better!

King: thanks guys i do feel a little better Poe: good, hold onto that Poe: cuz it's going to be a long four years Lovecraft: only four years? i thought we weren't gonna have to vote anymore! Poe: Poe: good drinking weather, huh?

Joyce Carol Oates: huh, i really don't see why the electorate would hate trans people unless they were persuaded by hate speech and fearmongering JK Rowling: well well well look at the fancccy pantsss rich author Rowling: with her out of touch fancccy ideasss about a pluralissstic sssociety! Rowling: with her fancccy german automobile! Oates: this car was made in Guatemala

Rowling: you're clearly too rich to underssstand the feelingsss of the common man Rowling: unlike me, a true daughter of the proletariat Rowling: i know all about the material needsss of the underclassss Rowling: anyway i'm going to insulate my Scottish castle with big bags of money

[thehopefulquotes]

I never change, I simply become more myself.

Joyce Carol Oates

[resqectable]

I never change, I simply become more myself.

Joyce Carol Oates

[cruyffista]

No sport is more physical, more direct, than boxing. No sport appears more powerfully homoerotic: the confrontation in the ring—the disrobing—the sweaty heated combat that is part dance, courtship, coupling—the frequent urgent pursuit by one boxer of the other in the fight’s natural and violent movement toward the “knockout”: surely boxing derives much of its appeal from this mimicry of a species of erotic love in which one man overcomes the other in an exhibition of superior strength and will. The heralded celibacy of the fighter-in-training is very much a part of boxing lore: instead of focusing his energies and fantasies upon a woman the boxer focuses them upon an opponent. Where Woman has been, Opponent must be.

Joyce Carol Oates, On Boxing

[askyea-poesy]

I am infatuated with the private life, and with anonymity; perhaps even invisibility.

Joyce Carol Oates

[stay-close]

I never change, I simply become more myself.

Joyce Carol Oates

[thoughtkick]

I never change, I simply become more myself.

Joyce Carol Oates

[prim-moth]

BOYS BEST FRIENDS with @iamjessemccartney Carol💚

Come get your hearts YCH before Vday! :D

[beirarowling]

I'm curious and don't have twitter so I can't see their pages, but has Stephen King said anything about Neil Gaiman? Margaret Atwood? Joanne Harris? Joyce Carol Oates? I remember they all were so quick to condemn J.K. Rowling in 2020 (Gaiman among them) You'd think they would all band together again to write an open letter denouncing Gaiman's horrible crimes, but I can't find anything in the news about it.

[half-a-corpse-half-a-poet]

- Joyce Carole Oates

[perfeqt]

I never change, I simply become more myself.

Joyce Carol Oates

[perfectfeelings]

I never change, I simply become more myself.

Joyce Carol Oates