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toodivineforhumanmind · 10 months
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June, 1987
June gloom. That's the term Chrissy's college friends had used to describe the odd, suffocating fog that had seemingly taken over the entire coast in California, looming over the promise of the summer in Los Angeles.
It was a strange sight, the wall of fog like a physical being in the horizon; suffocating her, pulling her in. Sometimes it felt the same that it had felt back home in Hawkins. Suffocating, alienating. And the fog never failed to invite back the nightmares that haunted her. Of her mother, of Hawkins, of red, vengeful skies filled with creatures her father would've called "demon-like". 
Chrissy had left Hawkins for good in June of 1986 - she had often dreamed of getting away from her mother and the crushing weight of what could be considered the "high society" of Hawkins. In other words, an endless parade of church potlucks, charity auctions and dinners at their local country club. A painfully artificial smile plastered on Chrissy's glossed lips, her mother's reproachful voice in her ear if she accidentally spilled something on her dress. Endless greetings and hands she shook time after time, the perfect daughter with the golden cross dangling between her collarbones.
California and the freedom of college had been a breath of fresh air after eighteen years of suffocation. Chrissy had felt free for the first time since she was a child, free of judgement, free of the red skies. And occasionally, she almost believed that she was free of the knowledge of what lied below their own dimension.
And then her mother died on June 9th 1987, and Chrissy jumped on the first plane that flew out of Los Angeles in the early hours of the morning.
That first night back in Hawkins Chrissy woke up screaming, flashes of red skies and golden crosses in her mind. Her clammy hands clawed at her bare throat, almost confused that her fingers weren't entangling with the dainty, gold chains of neither her cross necklace or the ´86´ necklace that Jason had once gifted her.
She had left both necklaces in the drawer of her desk in Hawkins when she had skipped town, eager to let go of the chains that still tethered her to her mother and the memory of Jason.
That June, Chrissy felt like she was watching herself from somewhere else, hovering over her own body. Making promises to her father, swearing she'd stay until the end of summer to take care of her brother and to help with the funeral, the documents, all the miserable shit that Chrissy's father was dreading to do alone.
And so she stayed. Even with the nightmares, she stayed. It was easy enough to forget, to force herself not to feel real. The numbness was her salvation the days she had to go through her mother's things, the scent of her perfume still clinging to the clothes making her gag. The numbness helped her during the funeral, her thumb drawing absent-minded trails on the back of her brother's palm as he clutched onto hers.
Nothing felt real, and Chrissy was so, very grateful for it.
Until the day a pair of all too familiar brown eyes met hers across the vegetable isle of the supermarket; that's all it took for Chrissy's facade to crumble, and she was no longer numb.
// follow this fic on ao3!
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kaitaiga · 14 days
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I think I found Talullah’s face claim, Gillian Anderson…
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puppyeared · 1 year
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Fanboy
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pinknatural · 2 months
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my lips are sooooooo chapped. omg just like cas supernatural
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imminent-danger-came · 2 months
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THE NUMBER OF LIKES ON THE POST WITH MACAQUE IN IT VERSUS ANY OTHER POST. IT'S SO FUCKING FUNNY.
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Like is twitter in denial over MK having Wukong's bad traits.
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volatilechemicalz · 8 months
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it would be p silly of me 2 do a dtiys I think
update: poll
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wcvensouls-archive · 11 months
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" actually, we have a gig coming up later if you want to come watch. it's a small venue, but still. "
@lucidrims : sc .
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madamemiz · 1 year
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About me!
ayy miz here, thanks for visiting my page :3c
currently into the daycare attendant from fnaf, but i also love phineas and ferb, kingdom hearts, pokemon, star trek, star wars, invader zim, card captor sakura, and yugioh. cotl and dungeon meshi are slowly tickling my brain
here's a few useful links:
my art
my fic
ventura highway
fnaf tag
about me (relatable posts)
kofi shop below! currently have prints and stickers for the dca <3
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aintashes · 5 months
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okay! i'm not sure how many of my followers are inactive by this point (it's been a few years to be fair lmao) but if anyone is active and we're mutuals, like this for a lil starter from daryl :')
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boydykepdf · 9 months
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was so overjoyed abt having local dykes in my area again that i forgot the epic highs + lows of trying 2 get dykes 2 be normal over text…
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balladetto · 8 months
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@hyaciiintho ( Link )
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     He hadn't wanted to circle back to this particular inn, but there was little choice with the air so humid — ripe with the promise of approaching rain. As he feared, they'd come at a bad time. "Tourist season," the innkeeper had explained ( then complained ) when he last saw her. Tonight, she just wryly smiles. "Lucky last room. Only one bed though."
     He takes the key, of course. A bedroll on polished floorboards will always be better than a bedroll on cold, wet dirt.
     The room is a decent size. Or it would be, usually, except it feels a lot smaller when there are two travellers staring at the same bed. When there's Link and...bigger Link. In the same space. Sharing the same time.
     He really can't wrap his head around it.
     He looks up at that older face. Not for the first or most likely last time since— this, he thinks he remembers being that sort of big. Remembers being in that sort of body.
     ( In truth, it's not something he can ever forget. Something he can put away, maybe; like trinkets in a drawer, or some book on a high shelf, or pieces of something shattered buried deep where no one can find them. Here, in the face of those eyes — the near exact shade of blue he catches in his reflection — it's like damning bloodstains on fresh, pale fabric. )
     He flexes the fingers of his left hand, curling them in one by one and pressing the tip of each nail into the meat of his palm. With his other, he motions towards the bed. "You— for you."
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penumbraal · 17 days
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❝ ⸻ YOU LOOK TOO PLEASED RIGHT NOW. ❞
and that's potentially dangerous for megumi, who more or less has somehow become the most entertaining person to embarrass. in his eyes, gojo's default state is up - to - no - good ; so a small alarm bell goes off in one corner of his mind when he can even sniff something out of place.
he regards gojo with narrowed eyes, makes no effort to stand from his seat at the foot of a courtyard oak tree.
❝ whatever you're doing, i don't want any part of it. ❞
@chaoslulled // for gojo satoru !!
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retromutagn · 22 days
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@eyeknowmayhem asked for a silly starter / mm donnie and wingnut.
he's made a space in their hectic home to set up his laptop where they (and anyone else who ends up joining) can both see. he's got access to all the best streaming sites, some by...dubiously legal means. he's not even setting them up for a proper binge session, this is just to figure out their commonalities. "okay, okay, you've seen fullmetal alchemist, right?" he almost feels dumb for even asking about such a classic, but hey, he doesn't know what the internet sitch was in superfly's lair. his own brothers would've been bored to death without him managing the tech, after all.
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galaeus · 28 days
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🚪 (also hello old friend! 😃 long time no see, welcome back) / @cagedchoices
prompt #9 covered in bruises
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It's been a rough day. Between being chased halfway across the dang desert to avoid animals eating her alive, to smashing into walls of half-demolished houses to hide from passing raiders, to simply falling on her ass more times than she can count -- Echo is borderline up to here with how fed up she is with the surface.
But she isn't going back. Nope, the world can't break her spirit that easily. It's only been two days since she left her vault, but Echo is determined to last -- even if it means dragging her butt to the finish line where she'll eventually expire with the rest of the wasteland.
As she flops to sit down on a broken stool at a small trading outpost by a settlement, the vault dweller lazily glances over at the pair of eyes looking back at her. A stranger. Then again, everyone in these parts are a stranger.
"You should see the other guy," she tries to joke before wincing. Her hand ends up on the side of her greyed blue jumpsuit where she can feel yet another bruise forming. "Say, you wouldn't... happen to, like, know anything about where we are. Right?"
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mythvoiced · 5 months
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@lovedlcst | ♥
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"There's not-- I mean, there are... all kinds of establishments around this area of town, it's- I'm not sure this is the right place...?"
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r0b0friend · 1 year
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y’know what. i like you. *gives u 13-sai no hello work hatsune miku gifs*
one - two - three
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