#Like jesus fucking christ you people are insufferable.

[scoobydoodean]

Oh, I see. You and all your little friends are just too DUMB to understand. Too low IQ. The arguments sure is convincing.

I’m not kidding they really are saying somewhere out there that Kripke couldn’t possibly understand what it means to be blue collar because to do that, you’d have to have read about the value of a linen coat (which is not directly related to any of this btw) from Marx’s Das Kapital. Kripke of course couldn’t possibly have read it, and if you haven’t read it, you can’t possibly understand anything about class. You have to have read Theory™️ to understand what it means to be *looks down my nose at people who I assume Have Not Read All The Books That I Did* blue collar *sips from tea cup with my pinky out, chortling*

[werewolffem]

a girl not wanting to compete with MALES in FEMALE sports is, you know, a normal thing. as a former athlete, i wouldn't want to compete with males either! but apparently wishing the shark attack killed her is 110% okay.

[houseofpurplestars]

Oh my god thank you

You gotta read and watch some old books and films that aren’t 100% modern politically correct. I’m not saying you should agree with everything in them but you need to learn where genres came from to understand what those genres are doing today and where media deconstructing old tropes is coming from.

Also, more often than you might think, they’re not actually promoting bigotry so much as “didn’t consider all the implications of something” or just used words that were polite then but considered offensive now.

Kill the censor in your head.

[cafejulii]

Kurapika being deemed by the hxh fandom as one of, if not the most, aesthetically pleasing character in all of hxh is ironically hilarious to me.

While I agree with this sentiment to an extent, as someone who is very keen to elements that make up an inherent sense of asethetic, canonically speaking; it should be expected that Kurapika has almost everything that would go against having a cohesive one. If anything, I am in firm belief that the main reason why he holds such a title is due to the manga covers along with the elegantly crafted filler added in hxh 1999 in which depicts the suffering intertwined with the discovery of his nen ability in such an artistic manner, which then created the baseline aesthetic for the lovely artists of this fandom to further expand upon.

But outside of this? Even so, many hxh fans still agree that he holds a sense of aestheticism to him. It truly does not matter that his color palette is all over the place, or that he would absolutely not care for style, and that, when not his cultural attire or a suit; he dresses as though he had walked into each of his friends closet's, picked out one item from each one, and wore them all together and called it fashion. (They absolutely do not match at all and Killua would absolutely have a stroke at the sheer sight of such grievous combinations).

Specifically talking about these 2011 official arts in which he is one step away from becoming Armin Artlert. (Even complete with the seagull)

Either that, or he dresses like a recently divorced wine mom. Or a butch lesbian. Not to feminize him in any way of course. It’s just the observed truth. It’s just the, pure, unavoidable reality when you dress in those particular color combinations, wear flannel or an oversized sweater, and have that oh so particular “fuck ass bob.”

Specifically talking about these 1999 official arts. A friend of mine had pointed out to me that the one on the right reminded them of Major Hughes’s wife from FMA and I couldn’t stop laughing. Poor 1999 official art Kurapika they did him so wrong.

Though there also many instances in the 1999 official arts in which he does a complete 180, and dresses as though he were the most insufferable character in a shitty 90’s mafia movie. While yes, in the manga, he is technically a mob boss as of now, I genuinely could not fathom watching the absolute mess of succession war unfold with a straight face if he dressed like this.

Yet even still, we have a multitude of artists making the most breathtaking artworks that depict him in agony while holding the eyes of his people almost as if he were some sort of sacrilegious patron, a lot of which are usually inspired Catholic/ Orthodox paintings. (I love these types of arts so much)

Now thinking about it, I suppose, maybe he is so aesthetically appealing because he is an androgynous presenting man with heavy backstory that has many symbolic ties to Christianity as he is representative of Lucifer in juxtaposition to Chrollo who is seen as this twisted version of Jesus Christ. And as we know, it was Lucifer who was considered to be the most “ beautiful of all the angels.”

But anyway, I digress. Bro is just ethereal. Congratulations togashi for creating a character so intentionally-unintentionally aesthetic.

(also this is very much a shitpost please I beg don’t take this seriously at all)

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

npd culture is looking at an idiotic fuck like

What

when they start spewing shit off like "I'm an empath"

You know what, fuck empaths actually. All they do is feel someone else's sorrow but i swear all they do is feel and be the epitome of inaction

And then when i step in and demonstrate some learned compassionate behavior i get branded as communal narcissist like it's an awful thing

Hello bitch at least I actively do something instead of moaning and bitching in social media about "i feel their sorrow" NYE NYE MOTHER FUCKER Why the FUCK does everyone have to brand NPD people as an asshole by default like holy fucking shit and why is it that when I do something good people roll their eyes and say "ahh he's doing it for the likes" well first off, AT LEAST I FUCKING DID SOMETHING TO HELP jesus fucking christ who on God's green earth mandated all people with NPD to be branded as insufferable assholes????????

.

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 5: What Was I Fucking Surprised By?

So, as you may remember, I got into Worm thoroughly spoiled by the wiki and Wormblr and r/parahumans and r/Wormfanfic and actual Worm fanfic. I knew pretty much all the basic details of all the plot twists. And yet, of course, there are things I didn't expect, things the fandom or the wiki mislead me about, etc. Things I was surprised by.

So let's talk about a few:

Taylor Hebert: As I've said, I kind of worried, before reading Worm, that I'd find Taylor insufferable. The sort of character that tries to be a hero and then convinces themselves to do all sorts of bad stuff while telling themselves they're still a hero/good person/etc is hard to write well without being really unpleasant to read/watc/etc. Self-righteousness in general is hard to enjoy for me. Taylor, honestly, stops thinking of herself as a good person partway through the post-Levi period, in most ways, and she never gets self-righteous about it. So Taylor was much more sufferable than I thought. Which is good, because I would have dropped Worm like a hot potato if she'd been insufferable as the main POV.

Eidolon & The Endbringers: (Sounds like a band name). The whole 'you needed Worthy opponents' thing, and the way people talked about Eidolon (seriously, this fandom as a whole is hugely unfair to the guy, istg) really gave me the impression of like, this vainglorious piece of shit guy who wants adulation and doesn't care how he gets it. And like... I don't get that impression from his Interlude at all? He doesn't seem to give two shits about fame, just about knowing what he did mattered. And he knew that well before the Endbringers. Obviously, he subconsciously created them, and then [High Priest] got all goddamn malicious in his compliance but he's not the vainglorious asshole who charges off to face Scion in single combat or w/e the way the fanfiction gave me that impression. Also, like, maybe it's just me, but I define 'Worthy Opponent' as 'something the person could have a reasonable chance of defeating in a solo fight'. So for me, a worthy opponent would be a rowdy 12 year old with maybe a white belt in karate. the Endbringers are not solo-able opponents for Eidolon. So absolutely not doing what he actually wanted. I really think the fandom is unfairly hard on Eidolon.

Interlude 15.x: Look, at the risk of starting discourse - I'm sorry. I've read 15.x Backwards and forwards and there is just Nothing pointing towards rape in the text, even looking for it as I was. I really expected I'd see some line, some implication, some fucking hint and there's just... absolutely nothing. The text of Worm as written, whatever Wildbow claims he meant and whatever he did mean, does not support a rape interpretation of events. And that sure as fuck surprised me.

Extinction 8.6: The way people - and even some fics - talked about the scene where Amy messes with Taylor post-Leviathan made it sound like Amy straight up ripped off Taylor's mask or something extreme like that, and then Taylor sees unmasked Sophia while trying to run and hide after being unmasked. What we got was Amy being a bit of a bitch, deliberately refusing to answer a question Taylor asked because she knew not answering would upset the girl (not cool), Amy's bedside manner being shit, and Taylor's own paranoia (and the godawful choice of the heroes to handcuff her to the bed) filling in the blanks. And this absolutely tepid-ass shit is pointed to by people as proof that 'Amy was a bitch the whole time'.

The Leviathan Fight: It was a lot shorter than I expected. I enjoyed reading it in ways I was worried I wouldn't.

Cauldron: Now, here's the thing. Characters that do bad things, knowing they're bad, but in pursuit of a greater good? That shit is my goddamn jam. I fucking love characters like that. They're my catnip! And I went into Worm sympathetic as FUCK to Cauldron. and I come out of Worm going 'Jesus Christ what a bunch of fucking idjits!' Their shoestring illuminati was run by a bunch of teenagers who never grew up and a college student who's a worse control freak than Taylor. Their incompetence appears to be the whole point (until Wildbow's WoGs turned everything into Cauldron social engineering and he went out of his way to make a big thing about how Cauldron was totes necessary for making things better. Man just cannot shut up). They try for decades to put some final fight against Scion together, and they fail epicly. No groundwork, no real success, and they turned to ACCORD for their post-apocalyptic plans. And apparently had no plan for a mass Case-53 breakout/attack. Which is... sure a choice. Dumping the Case-53s the way they did. The choice of which Case 53s to dump (Sveta sure was a choice of who to just... let out into the world. Like, not an issue with her personally, but you don't release that kind of uncontrollable murder tentacle out into the world, maybe? Just maybe?). I went into Worm thinking I'd be on Cauldron's side, at least a little, and I came out just... god no, you people are stupid.

Amy's Birdcage Arc: I really thought we'd see more of Amy's time in the birdcage, but 16.z really was all we got.

Alexandria's Death: I don't quite know what I did expect, but I didn't expect Alexandria's death to be so goddamn Darwin-award worthy. The woman died like the biggest of CHUMPs and that was much funnier than I expected.

The Drugs are Fantastic line: I knew it was being taken out of context, but it wasn't quite in the place I expected, I'll be honest. Not sure what I did expect.

Taylor's Weaver Arc/The Timeskip: I expected... I dunno. Less of an abrupt transition, I guess? I thought the timeskip would be like, a series of small scenes skipping ahead over two years between them? Instead, right in the middle of Arc 25, it just jumps ahead two years without ceremony. Did not expect that. At all.

Slaughterhouse Nine: I was not prepared for just how goddamn boring the Nine were. I don't think I read any spoilers about how Jack Slash being boring af was the point until I'd already started the S9 arc, but I especially didn't expect how pathetically bland as characters Manny the Kinless and Burnscar and Crawler and Sibby the Friendly Neighborhood Cannibal would be. Cherish managed to be interesting by being such a failure, and Bonebitch, to my eterntal frustration, managed to be funny, but the rest? Also, I thought Manton would die in the Bay, rather than be killed unceremoniously offscreen while in Boston.

The Butcher: For a character who appears in all of two chapters, the Butcher has a much larger presence in the fandom. But that is Worm for you, because groups like the Elite and the Fallen also show up more in the fics than their presence in the main story merits (Though the Fallen have more of a presence in Ward, even if I gather Ward kinda sorta retcons like half the details or at least presents irreconcilable visions of the organization)

Empire 88: They were way out of focus, compared to how much they appear in fics. But it is fun in fics to see Nazis get beat up all the time, so this is valid. But also, like, even their post-Levi remnants were weaksauce af. Someone in a server the other day said that taking out Marquis took out an entire faction, and that Levi proved that taking out Kaiser (or Allfather before him) doesn't stop the Empire, gesturing to the Aryan's Chosen and the Pure as proof but like... lbr. Both groups were pretty damn pathetic in the post-Leviathan bay. Regardless, I expected to see more of the Nazis getting beat in Worm itself, and we really didn't. But this is one time where I don't care, because as I said, seeing Nazis get beaten up over and over again in the fanfic is fun.

Ward: I was worried reading and finishing Worm might make me want to read Ward. Thankfully, it did not. *whew*

Now, there are probably others, but nothing else as major. But there are also some things I just plain wasn't surprised by.

Amy Dallon: I went into Worm expecting her to be my blorbo, and that didn't change. She's definitely my character type. I feel the same about her storyline in Worm as I did going into it.

Tattlebitch: I expcted to hate her, and I stayed hating her. Lisa sucks. Like, she has her redeeming moments and features, but overall, I still hate Lisa.

Carol Dallon: My Sympathy for Carol remains about as theoretical as it always was.

The PRT/Protectorate: I suspected the PRT/Protectorate was not as useless and incompetent and ACAB as a lot of fics painted it and... I was right.

My Ultimate Opinion: I went into Worm thinking it wasn't really for me, but that I'd probably find it well written and that many characters would be engaging. I figured it would have massive gaping plot holes and that I would never find it to be the 'amazeballs perfect wonderful' that some people seem to find it. And yeah, I was right about that too.

[euripidestrousers]

The Bridget Jones Wolfstar AU that No One Asked For

Dear Diary, 

Even writing those words makes me physically ill so I’d like to start this off by disclosing that getting a diary was not my idea. 

You see, my best friend, James - excellent, wonderful best friend who has recently become a family man by choice, and has therefore become one of the most insufferable people on earth - gave me this diary and said it’s either this or he’s buying me therapy because one more rubbish one-week relationship of mine is going to kill him.

And I don’t need a fucking therapist, so here you are, and here I am. I feel better already.

(haha)

Dear Diary, 

James might be onto something. Today I found myself smoking my third morning cigarette while drinking my coffee and muttering that the drive to work is going to be hell because of the rain. 

I’ve become my father. 

Of course, I asked James if he ever looks in the mirror and sees Monty staring back and if it makes him want to buy a motorbike and he replied, ‘Uh, I’m literally his son, we look alike. Are you okay?’

My thirty third birthday is coming up. 

Please don’t let this be a mid-life crisis. I’m not in a relationship because I don’t want one, and haven’t had one in over ten years because the men in London either want to meet you in the park or meet your parents. It’s the last hour of the buffet and all that’s left is the salad. And I don’t need a relationship either. James and Lily are a match made in heaven since the first time he told her ugly friend he was ugly (rightfully so, the man is still hideous and a complete prick), and she told him to watch his fucking mouth. Made for each other.

But the last time I met a guy that made me laugh and was any sort of attractive and not a complete knob about being attractive, was over three years ago. 

Ie, it’s not for me. End of story.

I bought a motorbike

Dear Diary, 

I’m going to do away with the whole ‘dear diary’ thing, it makes me feel like a schoolgirl and if James ever finds you when we’re drunk he’s going to read out at least one embarrassing entry at me. They’re all embarrassing. 

I went on a blind date today.

“Long black for… Sirish?”

What? Oh. That vague jumble of mush must have been his name. Sirius grabs the takeaway cup and makes for the door briskly. He has the Binkley case to catch up on and write a piece on by the end of the week and he’s still not clear who the man is. A football star perhaps? He’s still being sidelined into the sports area of the paper because he did football for a year. Nevermind that he has an interest in politics and would very much like to report on where the country will be in ten years if it keeps going-

J: You busy after work?

Sirius grins, flopping his jacket over one arm to type back to James Potter, best friend and inarguably lesser half of Lily Potter. 

S: drinks?

J: I have a one year old

S: too early for him to start?

S: kidding. Don’t tell Lily. She’s already started making him take his helmet every time I take him for a day. 

J: It’s not for drinks. Lily has a friend who’s just come to town. I thought maybe you could show him around.

S: Worst lie ever. 

J: I haven’t had coffee yet.

J: It’s actually true though. He just came to town and doesn’t know anyone other than Lily, and Harry has a cold so we’re both staying home.

J: He’s quite attractive I’m told. Lily told me to say ‘tall Martin Freeman’, and that you’d know what it means

S: Potter, if I was so desperate that I would open to a blind date, I definitely wouldn’t start with any of Lily’s friends, they’re all college professors and about 50 years old. 

J: He’s 37

S: He has elbow patches. Guaranteed. Bet he says ‘but the Torries are actually not as conservative as they’re made out to be.’

S: Bet he has a mahogany desk and wanks to Aristotle

J: Jesus christ

J: Photo sent

Sirius glances down uninterestedly and sees a photo of a man. But instead of the expected stuffy looking balding man with a sour face, as most of Lily’s fellow professors are to be fair, instead he’s looking at a tall, brown haired man with flecks of grey at the temples and smiling softly at the camera, and he’s well, he’s not not handsome. Tall Martin Freeman is actually quite right. Hello.

He brings the phone closer to examine the photo as he blindly barges into the office building with the large Get Up, Britain sign gaudy and bright above him. 

The man is younger on second glance, although he is wearing a suit jacket with elbow patches (told you, Jamie), and standing a little awkwardly, like he’s not used to photos being taken of him, and it’s entirely likely that he’s more accustomed to being nose deep in a book ninety percent of the time. 

He’s shagged worse. 

S: I was right about the elbow patches

J: I really tried to find one without them too

J: But he sounds nice. Funny. Lily likes him, she talks about him all the time. They were prefects together in school and used to bunk off and smoke behind the bins

One the one hand: prefect. Disgusting. Hall monitors. Pigs-to-be, snooty, law-abiding to the most irritating degree (Lily being the exception, of course). On the other hand: smoking behind the bins is more his style. Speaking of, he’d love one right now-

J: I really think you’d like him. Even just friends. Moving cities is lonely and he sounds alright. He likes Manchester U?

S: Fine, I’m free after 6

S: Don’t yell at me if I shag him, work has been shit.

So that’s how Sirius finds himself, half past six, swearing up a storm and running with his tote bag over his head in the pouring rain, late for his blind date (or something).

He slams into the restaurant door, shaking himself off like a wet dog, his casual Friday jeans and black t-shirt soaking wet, his shoulder length, black hair is dripping around his face, hoping his laptop has survived, and shivering like a chihuahua at a children’s party. 

“Uh, I’m here for uh-” he consults his phone again and reads the name to the maitre d, “Reh-mus?”

“It’s Remus, actually”, comes a soft voice from his left. 

Sirius turns quickly and immediately drenches the man standing at his elbow in droplets of water from his hair and coat. Tall Martin Freeman indeed - he has one of those faces that’s even better in person, where the way he stoops his shoulders and holds himself makes him look soft and welcoming, and the warm lighting gives him that attractive, cozy professor look, rather than an uptight old man.

“Oh”, Sirius grins quickly, hoping his dazzling smile will make up for their flimsy introduction, “Right, Sirius. Are you still waiting for a table-?”

“I er, well, I was about to leave actually”, Remus says, glancing at the maitre d awkwardly, “You’re quite late.”

Sirius’ smile freezes. Well, then. 

“Got caught up at work”, he replies stiffly, brushing his hair back and letting his eyes go cold, “If you’d prefer we don’t-”

“No, no, of course not”, Remus appears to snap back, as if remembering his manners and seeming oddly distracted, “Please, let’s sit. You look like you could use a drink.”

Sirius runs his tongue along his bottom lip as he follows Remus to the table and wonders if that was a slight about him looking like a drowned rat. He notices the man has worn an absolutely hideous brown jumper that wouldn’t be out of place in an aged care home, so he doesn’t really have the right to judge Sirius’ appearance. 

“Wine?” The waiter offers politely. It’s a nice place - James said Lily had picked it because she thought Remus would like it. It is a little stuffy, honestly. Something his parents might have stopped by and deemed adequate, which is to say, the beer is fucking overpriced, Jesus-

“I’ll have the Stout again, please”, Remus answers briskly, nodding at Sirius to order his.

“Uh, yeah, Stout. Cheers”, Sirius adds, dumping his bag beneath the table and trying to surreptitiously dry his hair in the napkin. Remus looks away as if embarrassed by him. Swot.

“So, you know Lily through school?” Sirius starts, unable to keep the boredom completely out of his voice. 

“Yes. I take it you know James through yours”, Remus answers, very politely but also sounding just as bored. 

“Yeah, grew up together”, Sirius nods. 

Remus doesn’t say anything to that, just hums and sips some water. 

It’s fucking awkward. Normally, Sirius would give him an ultimatum - ‘look, do you want to liven it up a bit and turn this into a fun one-night thing? Because otherwise, I’m not feeling it and I’ve got work to do.’

But Lily knows this guy, they have mutual friends, and if this isn’t what makes blind dates the most excruciating, hellish thing on earth, worse than job interviews, worse than-

“I don’t really do blind dates”, Remus says suddenly, and then blinks as if he hadn’t meant to say anything at all.

“Right”, Sirius says, bewildered. 

“I, er, the dating scene. Not really my thing”, he says quietly, still not looking Sirius in the eye, “But I just moved here from Wales and I don’t know anyone, so this doesn’t have to be… anything. Just-”

“Oh- oh yeah. Fine with me”, Sirius finds himself swallowing down a touch of regret, offended really, because he’s not used to someone not immediately being ready to come home with him. “I’m not really looking for anything and blind dates are, well - eugh, you know? Like, thanks, my friends think I can’t get laid on my own or something so they set me up with whoever they think isn’t a serial killer, like any gay dude will do-”

“Yes, well”, Remus says tightly, taking another sip, “I rather thought Lily knew me better than that.”

His tone is rather pointed and Sirius realises he’s let his mouth run. Well… to be fair, the guy is kind of a snob. What was Lily thinking anyway?

“Yeah”, he agrees through his teeth, crossing his arms and legs and sitting back in his chair to wait for his beer. Maybe he can make an excuse after one drink. He can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t have a sense of humour and if this bloke doesn’t want to be a one-night stand, then he’d much rather be home. Alone.

“Is there anything around here you’d recommend?” Remus tries, voice clipped and still sounding slightly offended, “Restaurants? More importantly, ones you don’t recommend?”

“There’s a place that does turkey curry. It’s awful.”

“What? What curry?” The tightness in Remus’ face slips momentarily and he looks genuinely bewildered. He’s actually not a bad looker when he’s not frowning. 

“Turkey. It’s as bad as it sounds. Actually it’s worse, like eating a lamb burrito, it’s just not right. Shittest fucking curry and it’s as bad going in as it is bad going ou-”

“Two Stouts.”

The waiter delivers their beers and they fade off into silence as they drink. 

Remus sips delicately, in a way that’s completely inappropriate for a beer, and says awkwardly, “Yes well, thank you for the tip. I’ll rest easy never knowing what turkey curry tastes like.”

“Yeah, I mean, if you can avoid it then I guess this date wasn’t a waste after all.”

Remus blinks, expression dropping. 

Oh. Oh fuck. Double fuck. He hadn’t meant to say that.

“I’ve got to go to the bathroom”, Remus says abruptly and stands. He stalks away quickly and leaves Sirius gnawing at his lip and furious at both himself and this infuriating man who seems to loathe him, minutes after meeting him and who Lily apparently thinks is nice. 

He’s got other shit to be getting on with, he decides. And this bloke probably shags like a limp fish anyway, an Oxford type that thinks poetry is foreplay and once a month sex is scandalously frequent.

He drains his beer and half of Remus’ for good measure, and heads to the bathroom so he can catch Remus on his way out, only to hear his own name hissed furiously. He sees Remus standing out the front of the restaurant, shoulders raised against the cold and holding the phone to his ear. He steps closer and half opens the door to tell him he’s going to head off when he hears the conversation.

“... how did you think someone like Sirius would be good for me? After the hell I’ve had in the last year? Going on a date with someone like him? He showed up thirty minutes late, dressed like he’s going to a bar playing exclusively Metallica, and insulted me immediately. I told you, I don’t mind being alone for a while, especially after the divorce. I certainly don’t want to be shown around London by a rude, arrogant berk who dresses like a teenager and doesn’t seem to have a filter between his brain and his mouth. He probably thinks the bar scene is-oh”

Remus catches sight of him out of the corner of his eye and he spins. They stare at each other for a few excruciation moments, Remus still holding the phone to his ear. 

Sirius breaks the tension with a forced laugh, “Right. I’m definitely going home.”

“Wait, shit, I’ll call you back”, Remus mutters into the phone and hangs up, stepping forward but Sirius pushes past him, temper steadily rising into a roaring bonfire within his chest.

“Sirius, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re absolutely right, I wouldn’t know the first thing about showing a bloke like you around London”, he turns and says loudly so it carries over the sounds of the cars driving by on the busy street, “You’d be more comfortable in a fucking graveyard, honestly. There’s one ten minutes that way-” he turns his back and points over to the left, calling back over his shoulder, “You’ll find someone much more your speed there, Remus.”

Blind date disastrous as expected. 

Remus fucking Lupin, a professor extraordinaire who wouldn’t be able to find his funny bone if it conked him on the fucking head, is not an exception to the blind date rule, even though he’s easy on the eyes at first glance. At second glance, he is a miserable, dried up academic whose own self-importance has completely consumed him despite dressing like his grandfather for Halloween. 

If this is what my friends think of me, I need to sort my fucking shit out. 

I should have asked him to shag before he opened his stupid fucking mouth. 

[timetravelstudies]

I fucking hate it when posts on here with a million notes are like “ummm actually if youre transgender and you feel bad about being fat🤓 that makes no sense because fat men and fat women BOTH exists😙! thanks for coming to my ted talk tumplyboos😍 and now stop saying you wanna be thinner bc of dysphoria otherwise youre fatbphobic🤭” as if the way fat is distributed on amab & afab bodies isnt extremely gendered socially just like everyything else is on this bitch of an earth. and obviously fatphobia is ingrained in society and theres no way for it to not be involved witj any kind of “i wish i had less fat on my body” desire/statement. but jesus fucking Christ. Im so tired of you people pretending to be obtuse to seem purer & more righteous than everyone else like it did not even touch your immaculate elevated mind that idk for instance having a body with round hips a smaller waist and large thighs reads as female. you insufferable fucking pricks

[correctthroam]

I read THROAM for the first time in ~5 years. Here's what I have to say.

Volume I: There was so many characters I forgot about when going into the fic. Pete, Jac, Spencers family. I cant believe I forgot them. Pete will always be a fave because everyone hates him and it makes me laugh. The first volume was always my 2nd favorite, I think it still is. overall, the storyline isn't complicated and I like that. Ryan is such an asshole so I dont feel bad for him one bit in any of the fic. Also, I used to say that the bus crash was Brendons fault (I was 13, okay?) But Ryan was just an unstable motherfucker who truly should not be trusted to drive a vehicle of any kind.

Volume II: holy shit. I hate volume two. Not saying the writing is bad but Jesus Christ, Ryan is an asshole. bro literally stalked Brendon after he ran into him at that party like what? I had messaged a friend after finishing volume 2, saying "I'm a really nice person I never wanna make people feel sad, let alone make a whole fictional story about someone being severely depressed and unstable whilst chasing a boy then fucking his bf at the end???" and I think that perfectly sums up how I feel (and always felt) about volume two. other than the fact that I used to say that it was Brendons fault. (I was 13. THIRTEEN) it wasn't his fault. Some parts were, yeah, but it's hard to pinpoint everything that happened on one person. at the end of the day, its a good story I just Hate it (does that make sense) I love it but I hate it? it remains my least favorite purely for the pain it put me through.

Volume III: I love this volume. I always have. Sisky is amazing, we all love Sisky. I will say the iconic song/album references/jokes made me cringe a bit, though. Im not exactly sure what about this fic I always liked so much, I guess you can really see Ryans character growth and finally not be as much as a miserable fuck (he's still unstable dw) Since Ryan is less insufferable, it makes the volume more enjoyable. I like that Spencer and Ryan became friends again, I think it makes the book more enjoyable and tbh I think Spencer rly tied vol 3 together, if he wasn't part of it it would lowk suck. overall, best volume cant wait to host the throam tour where we go to hotel Chelsea then machias.

final thoughts: if I thought throam was 100% good when I was 13, Id say now that I think throam is about 85% good now. (does that make sense pt 2) this fic has sent me back into being 13 and I have been blasting some pretty. odd. (im listening to it rn as im typing this) and listening to this album just makes my life feel more simple. still a solid fic, I think it would be an amazing published book. and I think we can all agree that it would be amazing to see THROAM movies (in our dreams)

Thanks for reading lol

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

‘Tra’ ‘gendie’ ‘troon’ grow up and call us trannies like a fucking adult instead of relying on middle school insults. You people are more insufferable than republicans, at least THEY treat us like fucking adults when they want to legislate us out of the public eye. Jesus Christ.

TRA's and gendies are not always the exact same group. I don't use troon at all so that's null. And I don't even use the t slur in private. Why would I want to imitate Republicans when I'm not one. Also, you're not even adult enough to put a face to this declaration so maybe you should get off your high horse, you coward.

[mwagneto]

honestly just imagining being stuck in a pringles can, very slowly suffocating to death, knowing you will die eventually, stuck on your ass because there isn't even room to stand, not even having a decent place to piss in the meantime and you are stuck with 4 of the most insufferable cunts on planet earth. While also being an obnoxious cunt yourself. I know you don't care about these people at all and tbh yeah, but jesus fucking christ I feel like pissingn and shitting an d clawing at the walls just thinking about it.

That they spent so much money to go and gawk at a deep-sea monument to hubris and then ended up like this is just so poetic. Like you could barely have made this up history is rhyming right now

LITERALLY like that's why this speaks to me so hard, because it's genuinely such a horrifying and extremely specific scenario that it all sounds made up. like the fact is you could not fucking pay me 250,000 dollars to do this and these people PAID that amount to go there. and the horror of imagining myself in there contrasted with how i unironically want billionaires to die horrible deaths and i finally get to watch it happen for once. it's all so poetic

[randomthefox]

Honestly I really would hope that everyone who bitches and moans about Sonic Frontiers "ruining" Eggman would have the integrity to rage against the Sonic 3 Movie, because it ACTUALLY LEGITIMATELY ruins Eggman, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm sure the excuse would be "oh he's a different version of the character he's Jimbotnik so they can do whatever they want and it doesn't matter" or whatever. But you KNOW people are going to be infuckingsufferable about Eggman BECAUSE of this movie. People are going to start saying things about Eggman and justify it with "yeah well that's what it's like in the movie, so it must be true of game Eggman too!"

I am just telling you though with no exaggeration: everything that people say Frontiers did to Eggman, "humanizing" him and making him "sympathetic" and turning him into a dad? Sonic 3 Movie actually does all of those things, but even worse. Yes really.

Total Spoilers under the cut

The emotional story arc of Jimbotnik in this movie is literally "Grr family is dumb I hate family >=( .... =o? Grandpa? Grandpa! ;-; grandpa! ^^ ..... Grandpa? D= grandpa =( .... I have learned that my real family was Agent Stone all along =) "

I'm not fucking exaggerating that's the whole story Jimbotnik goes through. He literally has a scene near the beginning where he's talking to Sonic about how he was an orphan who grew up alone without parents and without love and without family, and Sonic goes "well maybe if you did have a family who loved you you wouldn't have turned into a super villain."

Then Jimbotnik meets Jimerald and he's like "GRANDPA ;_; " and then spends the entire rest of the fucking movie fucking simping for him. Culminating in the worst possible moment in my opinion, the moment that made me wince. The moment where Jimbotnik gets on his hands and knees and starts kissing Jimeralds feet.

Jesus H fuck and a Christ.

I know I shouldn't be surprised that people who rag on Frontiers for ruining Eggman will probably give this a pass but holy fuck please have some integrity.

The movie ends with Jimbotnik sacrificing his life to save the planet and as he's about to die he sends a heartfelt message of love and appreciation to Stone telling him he was the real family all along.

THAT was fucking ruinous man. And people are going to be such insufferable assholes about Eggman because of this holy fucking shit. People are going to say Game Eggman is secretly good deep down and only became evil because his family didn't love him enough. Because of this movie. You mark my words.

[twopoppies]

The only thing I could think was “my gosh dude it lasted two months”. Like even if it wasn’t PR (it def was, but bear with me) that’s not something you say abt a 2 months relationship. It makes it even less believable. It clearly shows that it’s for clicks and sales. Bc it’s catchy and people buy into it. But Jesus Christ they’re insufferable. How can these people forget that it lasted 2 months and that during those two months both TS and 1D coincidently dropped an album.

ALL OF THIS. It’s so fucking embarrassing.

[mouthwashingconfessionsblog]

EVERYONE...HOW ABOUT WE SHUT THE FUCK UP. you dont like it???? awww you dont like the fanart or discourse and want this fandom to become lost media?? awww im sorry FUCKING IGNORE IT. THERE IS OTHER THINGS ABOUT THIS FANDOM jesus christ man its people like THAT who make it insufferable NOT the people making fanart/jokes.

.

[velvetvexations]

I think half of some of the issues some trans fems have with trans masc stuff is that some people find being seen as a woman to be traumatising and would rather deal with the trauma and danger of being seen as a failed man or faggot, like it's not appropriating anything it's that women find it traumatising to be seen as men and men find it traumatising to be seen as women like it's not appropriating for trans fems to find experiencing standard misogynistic sexism as affirming (which some women have found, even if they also find it upsetting or find upsetting at a later date)

a lot of it is very unhealthy though and directly leads to things like "yeah I'll believe I have power I don't have because it makes me feel more secure in my masculinity"

Velvet I hate to say it but yes they do in fact think that when men are sexually assaulted or beaten for any reason they are taking on a woman’s role in society. I’ve tried to pick apart how that narrative is just. Horrendously anti-feminist in my eyes - that’s what you think a woman’s role is/must be? holy fuck - but uh. Yeah. Yes.

TRFs will be like "my status as a woman objectively exists because Woman is an underclass in patriarchal society that I am classified under" and then you're like "so we should get minimize those classifications and drain them of meaning right" and then they suddenly go real quiet because they literally don't know how to conceptualize themselves except as someone who experiences misogyny

sad tragic terrible day: not one but two artists I had a lot of respect for decide to be a mask-off transandrophobe. sigh. at least I can always rely on you to have good takes and massive tits 🫡

my tits are huge and my love is boundless

why is it always the most insufferable people tilting at windmills. there are enough actual problems they could focus their self-righteousness on, but they'd rather imagine insane shit to attribute to other people.

scoring notes spreading malicious lies about other trans people on a dying social media site is more fun than dealing with the ongoing genocide targeting all of us

I get sooo pissed off by trfs going "listen to oppressed people about their oppression!" Because what they mean is "listen to us that this other group's oppression is Actually Our Oppression and them talking about their experiences and ppl listening to them talk about their experiences is Transmisogyny"

lmao literally

howdy velvet, here to leave a thought i had- 1 tumblr recommending me a transradfem blog in my "similar to those you follow" which was like. 3 fandom posts before it gets right into some of the nastiest overtly transandrophobic shit. and 1 tumblr stop recommending me people who dont think transmasc people are real people because i follow blogs who talk about....the opposite of that.... even if they reblog 1 (one) fandom gif. The main point is- JESUS christ do these people get really cruel about transmasc bodies like. immediately. its pivoting to calling us the c word and insulting dicks like we're all "smol beans" and its like....man. fuck is wrong with these people. why do they immediately feel entitled to shit on people's bodies?? it's just such an immediate kneejerk. total lack of consideration for other trans people's possible dysphoria and you know. just, not being a huge asshole.

I'm sorry, anon. No one should be treated like this.

You know something that really bother me is that people (who are not Ukrainian) act like basically 70 years of Ukrainian history is just a complete black hole. Was the Soviet era difficult? Of course. And bad at times? Of course. But it wasn’t literally nothing. The way these people discuss like Ukraine froze in 1930 and only started existing again in the 90s make me so uncomfortable. We weren’t “poor people starting entirely over 🥺 they are basically so far behind”. People still made things and made good memory and lived and loved and had family. It wasn’t literal misery all the time. And it really makes me uncomfortable when people act like it is, unless my whole family and bf’s family and everyone else is lying about good memories of their child hood or young adult hood I guess. It somehow is giving white savior despite most Ukrainians being white (well debatably, depending on how white you find Slavs but that is other conversation) especially when coming from Americans. Okay I guess you also must have nothing good going on ever because you are under bad government too right?

People are chronically unable to deal with other people as actual people, even when in sympathy.

[aloneinthehellfire]

Chapter Three: Truth

Gates Of Hell Masterlist

Word Count: 4032

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, lots of bickering, violence, a wee bit scary but i'm not that great of a writer lmao

[A/N: I didn't expect anyone to think this story was even mildly okay and I can't believe the support I'm getting here, thank you all so so much. I have so much in store for this story and I hope you stick with me :)]

Truth

Steve could feel the wind whipping at his face, stood at the garage door with his bat clutched tightly in one hand.

The door had been smashed into splinters, scrapes of blood marking the broken pieces. Mr Albright, his neighbour turned freaky demo-monster, had created that. Or at least that was the running theory. Steve shuddered at the thought that something else had been parading around his house.

“He did this?” You ask, stood beside him with an uneasy expression.

“I think so.” He voices, gulping.

“What happened to him?” You frown, biting your lip. “To him. To Holloway? And that- that thing back at the school, what even was that?”

“I-”

“And their mouths.” You breathe, ignoring Steve’s attempts at replying. “They were so similar, right? They just seemed so... possessed. And if it happened to them, who’s to say it hasn’t happened to more people! What if Hawkins is just swarming with tons of people- no, monsters, what if-”

“Hey!” Steve raises his voice and your mouth snaps shut, looking very furious at his action. He raises his hands in surrender. “Sorry. But you spiralling out of control isn’t gonna solve anything.”

“Fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek. “And, pray tell, do you have any ideas on what the hell is happening to our town?”

It was meant as a rhetoric question, but Steve’s face said all it needed to, your hard stare softening into something more curious, afraid.

“What do you know?” You question with a step closer and he tightens his jaw, glancing to the broken door.

He wasn’t safe here anymore. And he needed the people that could give him answers, and a chance at fighting this plague of creatures washing over their town.

“You’re heading to your dad’s cabin, right?” He ignores your question and you shake your head, confused.

“Yeah, but-”

“I’ll explain on the way.” He announces, walking away from you. “There’s a bag by the door, grab some food from the kitchen and I’ll get some stuff we’ll need from upstairs.”

He’s already jogging up the stairs before he finishes his sentence, leaving you stood there dumbfounded. You didn’t like that he was ordering you around, not one bit, but the idea itself sounded realistic. You’ll need supplies, just in case.

Great, you thought, reluctantly dragging yourself to the front door and spotting the bag, he’s coming with me now.

You’re rooting through cupboards, determinedly ignoring the mutant corpse led on the other side of the island, as you curse under your breath.

The walk to the cabin shouldn’t take you that long, half an hour at tops. But the thought of spending that time with Steve was going to be as intolerable as it could get. You betted that you wouldn’t last five minutes until the knife in your hand started to feel like a chance of relief.

You and Steve Harrington on the road of survival. Could it get much worse?

It was worse than you thought.

Barely two minutes had ticked by before you and Steve broke out into an argument, your stubborn and needy mind getting the better of you.

“You said you were going to tell me on the way.” You point out, gesturing to the street around you, “Well here we are! On the way.”

“Jesus Christ, you couldn’t even last a few minutes?!” He exclaims, eyes wide. “God, you’re so insufferable.”

“Wow, sorry I don’t like that a guy I already don’t trust is keeping secrets from me. Important secrets!” You snap and he laughs in disbelief. “Where are you even keeping that knowledge? In your hair? Sure as hell ain’t that thick skull of yours.”

“Fucking hell.” Steve breathes out, clicking his tongue, “What is actually wrong with you? Is it mental? Can you physically not stop yourself from harassing me?”

“Harassing you?” You gasp, shoes stamping onto the grass outside of the trailer park as you halt to a stop. “You’ve been whining about my walking speed since we stepped off your driveway! And, if you are even capable of memory, we can recall that you weren’t originally a part of this plan. And now you won’t even explain why you’ve suddenly decided to follow me like some lonely stalker!”

Steve sighs in a way that tells you he isn’t going to explain. Not yet. It was like you could see his mind shuffling through excuses that would just be blatant lies.

“I just-” He starts, but you raise your hand.

“Save it.” You scowl, shaking your head. “If you’re coming with me then we’re gonna walk at my pace. We’re gonna let eachother know if there’s danger, and we’ll fight it if necessary. We won’t talk, I don’t even care what you have to say anymore. I’m just looking to get through this day without dying and honestly, that’s a pretty high expectation to have considering I’ve almost been killed three times now, so… nut up and shut up.”

“Nut up?” Steve repeats with a smirk and you shush him.

“And shut up!”

You storm away from him and he rests his head back, staring at the sky that was slowly becoming consumed by dark clouds. ‘Why me?’ He mouths with a silent sob, adjusting his backpack and setting off after you.

Hopper’s cabin was located on the other side of the forest from the trailer park, past the Murder House people always gossiped about but never dared enter. You’d endured this journey many times since freshman year, continuously sneaking out to see friends that Hopper never deemed ‘acceptable’.

It should have been a straight path to the cabin, a shortcut through the woods that avoided all the main roads. It was easy.

Until stacks of fallen trees block your path, eyes widening with the sight. It was towering over you both, stretched out as far as you could see. Something did this; the marks on the trunk weren’t mother nature’s effect.

“Woah.” Steve comments, looking up at the sheer height of it. “That’s a lot of trees.”

You glance at him and he rolls his eyes, sarcastically zipping his mouth.

“My apologies, your highness.” He snarks, and you scrunch your nose at the nickname.

“Whatever, we need another route.” You say, gnawing your bottom lip as you think. “Okay, we either go down Kerly and cut across Weathertop-”

“Which will take us hours.”

“Or,” You continue, nodding to your right. “We go through the trailer park and pray that these trees don’t stretch across the bottom there.”

Steve takes a moment to observe the rows of trailer homes, assessing it with delicacy. It looked quiet. Almost too quiet. But he knew it would be pitch black by the time you reached Weathertop, and he didn’t want to be out here in the dark.

“Trailer park it is.” He sighs, swinging his bat onto his shoulder and walking with you down.

It looked deserted, some items of clothing and discarded kitchen utensils scattered across the grass. Most of the RVs were missing, too. They got out when they could. Or you hoped they did.

As you walk through, nerves alight and gripping the knife in your hand like it might slip away, you couldn’t help stopping to stare at an empty lot. Grass had overgrown the area, looking completely out of place amongst the sea of trailers surrounding it. Like nothing had ever been there before.

Steve almost didn’t notice you had stopped. He had risked a glance your way, curiosity setting in at your knowledge of this place, when he realised you weren’t there. There’s an initial panic raising his heart rate until he turns around, finding your fallen expression staring at an empty space.

“Don’t tell me these things are stealing trailers now.” Steve comments with a hint of amusement, attempting to lighten the mood. But you didn’t laugh.

“Let’s keep moving.” You whisper with glistening eyes. Steve frowns, staring at the overgrown foliage for just a moment before walking away.

Steve stayed silent after that, quietly observing you as you weaved between the mobile homes. You were rushing your footsteps, understandable considering earlier events. But it felt more like you were running from something else entirely.

From your quickened pace, you were both getting through the trailer park with plenty of time before nightfall. Although, guessing by the unnatural clouds forming above you, neither of you could really guess when nightfall would hit.

A twig snaps beneath your feet and you feel yourself go cold. But that wasn’t the sound raising bile in your throat.

Snarling echoed its way towards you, attracted by the noise. In a moment of instinctive reaction, you grab onto Steve and pull him around the closest trailer. You were fast enough to place your hand over his mouth, muffling his sounds of protest.

He held his breath once he heard it too, the uneven shuffling, a throaty growl. The thing approached into view, moving entirely alien; it was like it wasn’t used to the attached limbs. Whoever it was looked just like the others you encountered; black veined and dripping red.

The noises it made, low whimpers… it was close to being a cry of pain, but you figured it to be much worse. They were using it to lure in victims, trick people. Whatever infected them, it was smart.

Tucked away in the shadows, the figure didn’t notice you as it passed, you and Steve pressed together. But you didn’t move until the shuffling of dirt was out of ear shot.

Slowly stepping away from Steve, you peer around the caravan. It was safe. For now.

“Okay, come on.” You whisper, keeping close to the trailer walls and making sure to double check corners before moving on. Two unfriendly encounters were enough for one day.

Neither of you commented on the closeness of before but, then again, neither of you thought it wise to be talking right now. Steve kept close to you, keeping eyes on what could be approaching behind. You were both acting paranoid, but the paranoia was purely survival now.

Some clatter of cans kept ringing out in every direction, making you jump. Steve kept you moving, a guiding nudge with his hand on your shoulder. Usually, you’d be fuming at his man-handling. But you had to learn that you needed eachother right now.

“hey, stop a second.”

Steve whispered in your ear and you stop, turning to face him. He was staring straight ahead before catching your eye and raising an eyebrow.

“What?” He asks in a hushed voice and you blink.

“I thought-” You begin, but you don’t have time for his games right now. “Nevermind.”

He frowns at you as you turn back, assuming you were just hearing things now. The wind was picking up, maybe your mind was twisting the whistles into something more recognisable.

“we should take a break.”

“Why?” You respond almost immediately, confused at Steve’s suggestion. Again, as you turn around, he simply looks at you in confusion.

“Why what?” He asks, growing increasingly concerned. You looked like you had seen a ghost. “Y/n?”

“I think there’s a clearing in the woods.” You nod slowly, rubbing your eyes.

“Oh.” Steve peers around the trailer you currently hid behind and you were right. A spot that hadn’t been obliterated by fallen trees. “I don’t see anything tryna snack on us, so I think we’re good to go.”

You send him a look and he felt a little guilty at his comment. But you don’t say anything. Instead, you give a brief nod and start heading to the clearing.

Something didn’t feel right here. And the longer you stayed, the worse you felt.

It was a clear path directly to your target, far enough to need a sprint but close enough to reach covered ground before anything caught you.

So you run, hearing Steve’s footsteps blending into yours. You were mentally mapping out the rest of the route now, the bench that marked you were heading in the right direction.

Your feet had just touched the sheltered grass when something thumps on the ground behind you and you skid to a stop, eyes widening.

Steve was wrestling on the ground with a creature much bigger than he was. It must have caught him just before the woods, pulling him away. You raise your knife, charging towards it, until you caught sight of what it really was.

This thing was huge and bony, giant claws resting at the end of extended arms. It was grey, glinting in the light from its slimy, pale exterior. And its face was opening like a flower, roaring spit onto Steve’s face. You almost dropped the knife.

A faceless creature. A flash of grey. A scream. You’re stood there, frozen. Where is it? Where did it go? A ruffle of leaves. Was it real? Is it following you-

“Y/n!” Steve cries out and your blurry vision snaps back into focus.

Steve’s struggles were close to having no effort at all, the creature’s arm raising and pinning his head down to the ground, leaning closer, breathing on him. He should have been checking his surroundings, and now he was back to that night in Byers’ house. Except this time he was the one that needed saving.

A screech erupts from its mouth as it rolls off of him and he takes a painful breath, sitting up and scrambling for his weapon. He couldn’t find it. Steve whips his head to where the Demogorgon was snarling and his eyebrows raise.

You had scooped up Steve’s bat, knowing the knife wouldn’t fair well in this battle. It was this moment and this moment only you had ever thanked Hopper for making you take that baseball class in the summer.

But, as it uncurled itself from the ground where you struck it, that initial paralysing fear came rushing back all at once. It towered over you, at least a foot bigger. Its grey skin…

A faceless creature. A flash of grey. A scream. You’re stood there, frozen. Where is it? Where did it go? A ruffle of leaves. Was it real? Is it following you? Your feet thump against the ground. You shouldn’t be here. What happened to the scream? Why is it so quiet-

Steve thought it was going to kill you. A scream was rising in his throat, desperately searching for a weapon you had left him without. You were just stood there, staring at it with a horrified expression.

At the last possible second, after it had pushed its feet from the ground and lunged for you, you swung the bat across the side of its face, the head swerving away from you and sending it stumbling.

Steve took the opportunity then to grab your wrist and run, as fast as possible. These things were quick; he knew from experience.

As he pulled you through the trailers, you could hear it following you, bouncing off of the metal walls and knocking some things over. Your heart beat practically left a metallic taste on your tongue.

Suddenly, Steve tugs you to the ground, grabbing and pulling you towards him until you were both crouched on the ground, trying to control rapid breathing.

He watches as the Demogorgon crashes into another trailer, denting it with the force of the impact. Steve holds you there, begging that the forgotten ice cooler and armchair were enough to shield you both from view. Not that it had eyes, but he wasn’t sure how it could see. Maybe scent. Maybe something else entirely.

Neither of you dared to breath anymore, your shaking hand resting against his knee. You could just see its pale silhouette from the gap between chair and trailer, somehow making it worse. You’d see it find you first before you felt it. And that laced tears in your eyes, knowing one sound could be your end.

It was just luck that Steve happened to shift his arm and give you a better view of your surroundings.

You spot a familiar trailer and point to it, unsure if Steve would understand you. But his eyebrows raise and he’s nodding, searching the ground. A discarded tin can rests at your feet and he leans over until you can feel his breath on your cheek. Clutching it in his hand, he slowly moves away from you, finger against his lips. Then he’s crawling around the trailer’s edge and you’re left alone.

It took a second or two until you suddenly felt that pit in your stomach, panic burying into it. What if he left you? Neither one of you wanted to rely on the other, history creating this dent in your relationship that invoked a gag reaction just looking at each other’s face. Maybe he took the chance and just ran. Maybe you were going to be caught, and you would die here. Maybe-

You hear a distant clatter of a tin can hitting what you assumed was a window, the snarl of the beast chasing after it.

And Steve was quickly back at your side, reaching down to grab your hand and pull him with you.

Steve moved as quietly as he could as he ran with you toward the trailer you had pointed to, clicking open the door and gently pushing you inside, eyes only just catching the bald grey head in the distance before he shuts and locks it behind him.

Inside the trailer, you start tugging a sofa over to the door. The weight lifted once Steve was at the other side, helping you block the entrance. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to bide you time.

Once it’s dropped, Steve rushes to the windows, drawing the blinds and curtains shut. As he reaches for the one above a small table, he just catches the deadly figure running off into the woods and grits his teeth. Shit.

“Okay, bad news.” Steve sighs, stepping away. “It has just gone for a jog in the exact direction we need to go in, so…”

He turns to look for your unamused expression but finds you aren’t paying attention.

You’re sat on the floor, back resting against the wall with your eyes focused on the maroon carpet. You’re gently tapping your thigh, the other leg bent into a comfortable position. You looked worn out, and a little haunted.

Steve has seen enough to know how you must feel. Your whole world turned upside down in the matter of a few minutes. Things you had never seen would now be circling your mind for every waking hour and every sleepless night. You were stuck in this never-ending nightmare for the rest of your life, just like he was.

He silently slides himself down the wall, sitting in the space beside you. There was room for a whole other person between you, a comfortable distance considering how you had been avoiding eachother for a year now.

“Demogorgon.”

You blink, craning your neck to meet Steve’s eyes with a frown. “What?”

“Demogorgon.” Steve repeats again, tightening his lips as he nodded. “The thing out there.”

There’s a sense of disbelief in your stare. “Did you just name it after a DnD monster?”

“No, I-” Steve shakes his head before raising his eyebrows. “How did you know where it was from?”

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.” You snort, turning your head back. “Fitting name, though.”

“Yeah, that’s Dustin’s doing. I think. One of those damn kids at least.” Steve’s smile feels a little sadder at the mention of the boy’s name. Dustin may be a little shit, but he was his little shit. The brother he always longed for on those nights with his parents, feeling lonely in a room full of people.

“Dustin Henderson?” You frown, and Steve’s head whips towards you. “Wait, why would he- You’ve seen this thing before?”

“Yeah, we- how do you know Henderson?” Steve’s thoughts are much too distracted to string a single sentence together.

“Answer the question, Steve.” You persist, shuffling your body to face his. “You’ve seen it before?”

Steve was hesitant since this whole thing began to tell you about that night at the Byers, or the exhibition in the tunnel. Any of it, really. Because he thought it would only scar Steve more with the memory. But, as it turns out, he desperately needed to tell someone everything that had happened before it consumed him entirely.

So that’s what he did.

It felt much longer than it actually was, the words spilling out of him like the cork had finally popped from the bottle of his misery. You were silent throughout, eyes widening at his stories, a few nods of understanding. In fact, it was the most quiet Steve thinks he has ever seen you be.

“So, yeah. We thought we closed the gate but, uh, apparently not. All of that just for this to happen.” Steve exhaled a long breath, head hitting the wall with exhaust.

When you didn’t reply, Steve turns his head to your buffering face. It almost made him laugh, but he figured it would only earn him a harsh punch to the shoulder.

“Yeah… didn’t realise how much information I’ve just vomited on you there.” Steve grimaced and you raise your eyebrows, nodding slowly.

And, against all his expectations, you raise your head and say:

“You’ve known this whole time and didn’t think to tell me?!”

He should have thought better than to think you’d be pitying him.

“I was gonna-”

“You were gonna?!” Your eyes were wide and a bitter laugh slipped from your mouth as you look away from him. “Fucking hell.”

“We were a little preoccupied!” Steve defended, gesturing to the front door.

“Not even one ‘oh, by the way, there’s this whole other dimension that these things are crawling through and you’re not actually going crazy’?!”

“Jesus Christ, this is why no one tells you things.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“And Hopper knew?”

Your quiet voice caught his attention and he looks over just in time to catch you hiding your teary eyes, a rough swipe to rid them of existence.

“Yeah.” Steve said softly, sitting up straight. “He was the one who got Will back from the Upside Down. Made sure the girl was safe.”

“El.” You shake your head, eyes back on the carpet. “This whole fucking time.”

“He was just trying to keep you safe.” Steve offers, nodding. He remembered Hopper’s persistency on keeping you as far away from this as possible. “I mean, I can understand-”

“No, don’t you even dare.” You warn, pushing away from the ground and standing. You cross the space Steve assumed was a living room and clenched your fists. “You don’t understand. Don’t for one second think you do.”

“Believe me, you got lucky!” Steve found himself shouting and your mouth drops. He’s suddenly on his feet, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. “I’d give anything not to have those memories! Do you even know how hard that has been? For all of us?! Having to fight these things and keep it a secret-”

“But that’s it!” You point out, glaring. “You had eachother! And I had no one!”

“What are you even talking about?!” He stresses, hands on hips.

“I saw it and no one believed me!”

Steve takes a step back, face falling but the scrunch still dented the space between his brows. “What?”

You bite your lip, looking away from him. Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head profusely.

“Y/n.” He says sternly, regaining his position with a single step.

Everything felt deserted around him, leaving just you and him alone in this room. There wasn’t a war going on outside between people and monsters, or a fear thrumming in his chest of what could happen. All he felt was the pain radiating from your expression, a startling discovery of your past.

“No one believed me.” You whisper the same words, tears stinging your eyes.

A chill ran down Steve’s spine; he hadn’t been the only one struggling with a secret.

Chapter Four: A Girl Who Cried Wolf ->

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