#cheerlcd

@cheerlcd sent » do   you   believe   in   ghosts?

“That's . . . quite the question.” Try as he may to stop it, his expression was often outside his control, and it twisted into confusion. The odder the question, the less likely it was to have appeared out of thin air. That's what lived experience had told him. “I don't know if I'd go so far as to say I believe in ghosts, but who knows. We live in a strange fucking world.”

Mars allowed a few moments of silence before opening his mouth to speak again. “Have you -- uh, have you been seeing something, Chrissy?” When she didn't answer fast enough, he followed up with more. “Judgement free zone.”

The self proclaimed zoomer tilted her head slightly. Did she hear that correctly? Max knew Chrissy was different than most cheerleaders, but it was still odd. Hearing those words from one of the most popular girls in school. Normally the "cool kids" ignored her, gave her dirty looks.. In the past even made fun of her, or beat her up for not fitting in.

"I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not." She said, trying to play it off with a small shrug. Was it because of the things they unfortunately had in common? Or did she truly believe they could make a good team? "Are you planning something? I am a pretty great partner in crime."

Ally sighs as she finds herself hobbling into the bathroom and then leans against the nearest sink. Of course she's not alone, and she glances at the cheerleader washing her hands before she chews on her lip and closes her eyes. It's just not her day, twisting her ankle at rehearsal, and the last thing she wanted was to have a mini meltdown when she isn't even alone in the girl's bathroom.

@cheerlcd ♱ said [ TRUTH OR DARE ]　receiver admits something to sender that they’ve never told anyone else.

criminal minds inspired action prompts :　accepting!

plume of smoke exhaled from chapped mouth clouds otherwise sticky summer air.　despite a now-absconded jock’s vile words hitting too close,　he grins.　chrissy fuckin’ cunningham is kind of awesome.　who knew ?　or perhaps eddie’s standards are too low　—　perhaps anyone defending eddie from verbal assault in even the meekest of manners would be deemed METAL AS SHIT ;　there are solemn few in town who would ever dare to be seen as shielding the freak from vitriol deserved.

eddie can count on one hand those he can call friend /　too many of them are too young to understand ;　sweet kidlets who know only their silver-tongued dungeon master,　awe-inspiring　&　heroic in his valiant effort to keep the attention of bullies off of them and on himself.　it’s a role eddie is happy to play.　it’s a good thing to be.　but a friend his own age　-　someone with whom to lay his own guard down　-　is a thing sorely missed.　there had been ronnie,　once.　his secrets had been safe in her drumstick-callused hands ;　they’d been more akin to TWINS than friends.　but the world had come calling,　and ronnie had left eddie in her rear-view mirror as easily as she had hawkins.

chrissy is nothing like ronnie　—　too blonde,　too perky,　too saccharine.　the feeling she stirs in eddie’s ribcage is the same,　though :　the ill-advised illusion of SAFETY.　the comfort that comes with the presence of a friend whose eyes hold no judgment regardless of truths that may push the rest of the world to scorn.　perhaps it’s that stupid sentimentality that spurs eddie on to speak.　

“your allyship against my tormentors is sweet,　milady,　but unnecessary.　the sweaty sportsball players of the world will always look down upon us freaks.”　eddie pauses,　gaze conveniently downcast to the cigarette he is now stomping out beneath his boot.　he’s only ever done this once,　wouldn’t know how to look her in the eyes.　“besides,　they’re not wrong.　when they call me queer, that is.　so it's kind of a shit insult.”

the words leave smirking mouth sounding all-too confident for how flighty eddie feels. he is no longer nineteen and drenched in bravado,　but thirteen years old,　hair buzzed　&　eyes steely as he shouts the only thing he can think of to get wayne to stop giving a fuck and let him look after himself.　he feels as FLIGHTY now as he had then,　waiting for one wrong word in reaction to clasp in his desperate hands as an excuse to run away.

eddie isn’t afraid of shit,　these days.　not his good-for-nothing dad,　not the normals who taunt and jeer from their plastic cafeteria table thrones.　how stupidly funny,　then,　that right now chrissy cunningham is the most terrifying fuckin’ thing in the world,　standing there with eddie’s well-kept secret torn bloody from his chest and placed into her unwilling hands.　she could tell everyone.　she could spit on him,　could decide that everyone had been right after all　-　that he’s just as gutter-destined as rumor claims.　SHIT,　this was a bad idea.　damn warm fuzzy friendship feelings,　making eddie do dumb shit like be honest.

' i've still go nowhere to be, and i don't do too well -- nobody's worried. ' barb's teeth pinch at her lip, thinking. she isn't sure why she dropped that on chrissy. she's sure she has her own issues and she knows chrissy has been working hard to help the team destroy vecna. but barb isn't sure she's ever helpful. she isn't sure that anyone actually needs her, and instead maybe they've just been too polite to tell her to leave them all alone. perhaps barb was the only one of them that just wasn't adjusting to all of this. that didn't have that innate braveness the others seemed to have. sure, she would fight through hell if it meant saving her friends. and the upside down was close enough to her. but she wasn't the first one moving. she wasn't shooting through the enemy like nancy. she wasn't steve running into things full force or robin with her quirky ability to keep everyone pep talked. she wasn't the younger kids, putting their heads together to make plans. and she wasn't even chrissy, the person she was bitching to. chrissy and her work at the hospital to help them find out information. barb was -- well barb. and that was all.

☈ @cheerlcd liked for a starter !

HE DOESN'T KNOW WHERE IT'S COMING FROM, or why exactly he feels comfortable bringing it up to chrissy cunningham, of all people. it could be the misaligned behavior he'd observed from her, growing up in the same social circles yet allowing the few years between them in school keep him from speaking to her often. or, the fact that despite growing in the same social circles within hawkins, chrissy has consistently maintained a sweetness to her that he's intrigued by. it almost confuses him how she can be so soft-spoken and generally kind by reputation; while his reputation maintains with a negative connotation that upends any desire to have control over any alteration.

❛ sometimes i wonder if i had control of my last name, how differently things would've played out here in hawkins. ❜ there's a charge behind his words, something he won't quite prod at, but the honesty takes him back a bit as he picks at the skin at his thumb.

“only  i'm  really  not.”   she  persists.   "-  we  can't  just  act  like  everything's  normal.”  sure,  they've  done  as  much  in  the  past,  but  it's  never  gotten  this  far  before.   “-  the  town  is  LITERALLY  cracking  in  half.”   her  own  frustration's  the  only  thing  before  her.   all  of  the  times  that  everything  moved  forward  without  so  much  as  a  second  thought  to  what  was  happening  in  their  town  -  without  so  much  as  a  second  thought  to  those  who  hadn't  survived.

she's  well  aware  -  THEY'RE  ONLY  ACTING  as  if  everything's  normal,  still  the  frustration  remains.   pacing  the  room,  she  forces  herself  to  calm.   “admit  it  drives  you  insane  too.   suddenly  the  military's  occupied  hawkins  and  the  majority  of  of  the  town's  decided  it's  okay  to  carry  on  like  everything's  fine.”

@cheerlcd whispered... "you disappeared, and i didn't like it."