𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙅𝙀𝙎𝙎𝙄𝘾𝘼 𝙍𝙀𝙀𝘿                       ( Temporarywiin​

had chris survived the great vecna-ing of spring ‘86, no doubt she’d be dressing up as sarah from labyrinth.

before ‘86 it was princess leia multiple times, and once she and two little friends dressed up as judy, violet, and doralee from 9 to 5.

maythememebewithyou​:

White Christmas (1954 film) 

“My dear partner, when what’s left of you gets around to what’s left to be gotten, what’s left to be gotten won’t be worth getting, whatever it is you’ve got left.”

“Pushing, pushing…”

“What is this, the best two out of three?”

“We’re practically strangers.”

“When I figure out what that means I’ll come up with a crushing reply.”

“____, if you’re ever under a falling building, and somebody runs up and offers to pick you up and carry you to safety, don’t think, don’t pause, don’t hesitate for a moment, just spit in his eye.”

“That’s ridiculous, even if it made any sense at all.”

“I think it’s impossible, ridiculous, and insane! And I wish I’d thought of it first.”

“How do you do?”

“Don’t just stand there – how do I get off?”

“You ought to be horsewhipped. First you, and then you, and then you again.”

“Please, don’t quote me the price when I haven’t got the time.”

“Well, it’s not good, but it’s a reason.”

“Mutual, I’m sure.”

“Oh, that’s very funny. Ho, ho, ho.”

“I’m not the marrying kind. I’m not the engaging kind, either!”

“We ate, and then he ate. We slept, and then he slept.”

“Are things really that bad?”

“Troops ready for inspection, sir!”

“Oh, no. You wouldn’t do this to me…”

“I don’t know what you see in this long drink of charged water but honestly, after you get to know him, he’s almost endurable.”

“It’s probably just a small internal muscular hemorrhage, sir.”

“Well, you’re not exactly Superman, but you’re awfully available.”

“That’s right, ideal. That’s exactly the word we used, too: ideal. We looked at this big ski lodge and we said ‘Isn’t it ideal, absolutely ideal,’ didn’t we.”

“That’s not the way back to headquarters.”

“Wouldn’t do what?”

“Don’t you think we ought to…kiss or something?”

“Looks like it’s absolutely necessary.”

“I’ve got a feeling I’m not gonna like it…”

“Let’s just say we’re doing it for an old pal in the army.”

“Look who’s talking about guilt!”

“I want you to get married. I want you to have nine children. And if you only spend five minutes a day with each kid, that’s forty-five minutes, and I’d at least have time to go out and get a massage or something.”

“Let’s face it, ____, you’re a lonely, miserable man.”

“She’s always felt that she’s mother hen and I’m her little chick. She’ll never leave the roost until I’m taken care of.”

“____, you know that, and I know that, but ____ doesn’t know that. At least he won’t for about an hour and a half.”

“I just dropped by to thank you for saving my life.”

“I guess I’ve always been a silly school girl…you know the bit, the lady fair and the knight on the white horse.”

“Well, it was a life worth saving.”

“What’d you have for lunch today?”

“Well, break your arm, or your ankle, or your neck, but don’t break anything valuable, huh?”

“We’ve established that the lodge is ideal.”

“Well, then you’re happy for the wrong reasons, and that’s the same as being lonely and miserable, except it’s worse.”

“You know, in some ways, you’re far superior to my cocker spaniel.”

“Oh, my word, if I wasn’t such a mean old biddy, I’d break right down and cry.”

“Vermont should be beautiful this time of year: all that snow.”

“Let me tell you something, it’s kinda dangerous, putting those knights up on white horses. Likely to slip off, you know.”

“Well, I guess that’s the end of that.”

“It sounds very… Vermonty!”

“Why is everybody so concerned about my eating habits? Why don’t people just leave me alone?”

“I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna hate it.”

“How much is ‘wow’?”

“Last night, she couldn’t sleep. Today, she won’t eat… she’s in love.”

“Since you saved my life, you decided you have a right to run it.”

“It’s right between ‘ouch’ and ‘boing.’“

“Well, I like that! Without so much as a ‘kiss my foot’ or ‘have an apple!’”

“We like to take care of our friends.”

“I’m more of the ‘I don’t mind pushing my best friend into it but I’m scared stiff when I get anywhere to close to it myself’ kind.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s always that she’s been kind of a mother hen.”

“We wanted the mother hen to leave the roost so that the little chick could… oh, I guess we laid an egg.”

what if i said that because my computer is being fixed by IT i will make a 3-5 song playlist for our characters. because if you like this post i will do it

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙇𝙇𝙔                         ( asteritm )​

❛ hey! ❜     the door slams shut on her car with a little extra force than is necessary, but it’s beginning to look more and more like @greenscrunchy​ might need a little backup. most teenage boys are terrors, and she’s never been one to overlook a suspicious situation.     ❛ i just dropped my brother off and i gotta take these boxes to the gym to set up for a class. ❜     smiling sharply at the small group, she moves smoothly to intercept anyone getting closer to the young woman, protective and unafraid. putting her back between the boys and chrissy, she gestures towards her car with a question in her eyes. are you okay? are you safe?     ❛ do you have a second to help? i’m sure the boys have other things to do with their time, unless they’re with you. ❜           / sc.

high school was a wide open maw to hell from the outset. though, what had been infinitely more unsettling was the ease with which the teens of hawkins took to the new horrors like ducks to water. there was nothing like being a high-school mired teen to either straighten you out or send your wheels spinning. chrissy’s personal education hell was only relative. school was better than home but worse than peace and quiet or the company of a few of her squadmates, but still plenty survivable even when a solid third of the basketball team corners her in a bid to get some insight on jason’s plans for the upcoming semi-final game. just the same as weeks before, she has nothing to tell them, and same as before they can’t find it in themselves to believe her insistence that jason doesn’t even tell her what he’s and their coach are planning. whenever lucas sinclair and his kind freshman eyes aren’t present, the dogging gets a little more intense and a good deal less polite. then the wham of a station wagon door actually gives them a start. chrissy is primed for relief when lilly’s voice dances sharply through the air on the wings of irritation. a waterfall of brunette curls is a blessed sight when chrissy finally turns her back on the boys and skitters toward the young woman on light feet. 

                       ❝ yeah, of course i can help! ❞  hands are empty save for the eagerness to grab something and hold on, just for the small sense of firm reality it offers. chrissy grabs the nearest box from lilly’s backseat and hoists it to her waist.  ❝ and thanks. for back there. it's fine....they just like to try interrogating me every few weeks about their captain’s new plays. i can’t convince them that i know as much as they do. even girlfriends don’t get privileges, i guess. ❞

chrissy is at heart a profoundly private person who tires in social situations far quicker than she lets on and will never admit. this becomes especially apparent once she leaves hawkins for college and then for good. (her one exception is cheerleading.)

she’s also the type that will invite friends who don’t have a place to go for the holidays over for thanksgiving and christmas and new years and easter and whatever. you don’t have family or a place to go for the holidays? now you do. you don’t want to deal with your family? come over to her place instead. she gets it.

the air was cold, actually cold in hawkins for december. chrissy could be fooled into thinking that the place where she’d grown up was a place that made sense, where right side up really was the right side, and seasons were as black and white as they were supposed to be. but that illusion couldn’t be anything but fleeting. california fit more like a home for the past five months than hawkins ever had, even though it was fractionally warmer than what she was used to in winter, to the point that the beginning of december hadn’t felt real there until she’d arrived back in hawkins. where all the old, familiar places had shrunk into pitiful, sad imitations of what younger chrissy lived with so willingly.

there was one last place that still managed to make her feel welcome when all else fell through, one place that felt innately warm: the munson stoop. an emphatic middle finger to the blustery chill shooting shards of wracking frigidity through chrissy’s coat. eddie would be proud to know.

he was why she was there in the first place, rocking on her toes after knocking at the door. it had taken a minute to work up enough assurance that this wasn’t a mistake before her knuckles hit metal, but it happened. she knocked. and now she’d wait for the door to open and for just the right greeting to float down from her brain when it did. 

except when it did open, chrissy stalled. 

five long months of nothing but notes and letters and phone calls since summer ended, and there was eddie munson just a few inches away. in the flesh.

                      ❝ hi? ❞  what a way to sound the opposite of confident, but when chrissy meant so much, almost too much, by her announcement-free arrival, it was hard to know what to say first.  ❝ i hope that....   —  oh, forget it. merry christmas, eddie. i thought i’d try to surprise you. ❞

                       SURPRISE! merry christmas, @hellmartyr​ !

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙈𝙄𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙀𝙇 𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉                       (comicbookcreature​)

“  I  DUNNO !  i  read  it  in  a  poem  or  off  a  cereal  box  or  something - “

“ KINDA CHEESY, HUH ?? “ 

@greenscrunchy​  ( starter call ! ) ​

                   ❝ not at all! poetry could sound exciting no matter where you found it. ❞   she’d draw the line at bathroom stall graffiti but even the plainest word choice, in the right order, could give a name to a feeling that felt undiscoverable a moment before. chrissy had always envied that ability, to make simple letters into art.   ❝ .....what cereal, though? ❞

Sweater weather. Happy September 1st

hi friends! first of all, thank you for being here and interested in this little chrissy blog. second [spoilers], across the fandom the prevailing aus for chrissy seem to take place during the events of season 4. that is not the case for this portrayal’s main verse. chrissy remains dead for the entirety of the season, only reviving when robin/nancy/steve blast vecna. first killed, first revived.

as vecna emulates the lich of the same name from dnd lore and has noticeably displayed the bodies of chrissy, fred, and patrick in his mind space for max to stumble upon, which, coupled with the line “they’re not gone, eleven. they’re still with me,” provides some implication that the consciousnesses (or souls) of vecna’s victims still exist somewhere inside vecna or in a place of his choosing. this is only emphasized by his stealing of their eyes upon killing them, since “eyes are the windows to the soul”. especially powerful liches possess phylacteries, aka a protective central storage of power for their soul to draw upon when they need to regenerate. the three victims’ souls may very well have been stored in vecna’s “phylactery” mind space - his family’s deconstructed house - for that purpose. when vecna is attacked he is weakened to the point of potentially letting souls slip from his grasp. in a similar fashion that max can enter and exit, chrissy is released from the immediate bondage of vecna’s “phylactery” and able to slip through the cracks. although, unlike max, she isn’t released into the real world but the realm that vecna dwells in: the upside down. until she can find her way out, it’s there that she stays. in the real world, her buried body dissolves and her casket, when exhumed, is discovered to be empty.

long story short, all this can be found on my verses page and this drabble explaining how chrissy woke up. all this is to give chrissy her own unique story that both gives her a chance at agency, a solo story of survival, and manages to keep the timeline of s4 unchanged. thanks so much for reading!!!