My Dear Friend From High School Just Snapped Me Her Joyce Byers Halloween Costume That Uses A Jacket

order up! remember to do something just for yourself today. you're doing your best and you deserve a little pick-me-up! keep hanging on because sweeter times are sure to be here, soon!

💛💛💛 i'll definitely take this to heart today, and i hope anyone reading this does, too. it's the perfect day to snag a used book to treat well, drink some tea or coffee (or water, that too) and listen to a song that used to be on repeat that never lost its magic.

thank you, cinna! 🧡

#Happy May the 4th to Steve Harrington <3

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙏𝙄𝙉𝘼 𝙎𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎                        ( @tinasparty​ )

greenscrunchy asked: ❝ you start to believe all the things they say. that this place is cursed. ❞   stranger things 4 : accepting !

        TINA  DOESN’T  EVEN  NEED  THE  RUMORS  to  know  there’s  something  wrong  with  hawkins;  she  can  feel  the  darkness  in  the  air,  SENSING  it.  people  go  missing  or  succumb  to  fates  so  nightmarish  it  can’t  be  natural  and  she  notices.  “trust  me…  i  believe  it.  i  believe  everything.”  and  the  reason  tina  knows  too  much  is  because  of  the  visions  conjured  by  her  mind’s  eye,  the  psychic  trait  no  one  knows  about  her.  “and  i  don’t  have  a  good  feeling  about  this…  it’s  not  over  yet,”  she  speaks  cryptically,  though  she  can  tell  chrissy  understands  exactly  what  she’s  trying  to  say.  there’s  none  of  her  typical  flirtation  in  her  smile,  the  charming  attitude  she  carries  herself  with  absent  this  time  as  she  feels  the  weight  of  what  chrissy  says.  it’s  true,  and  there’s  a  wistful  and  almost  melancholic  look  swimming  in  mocha  eyes.  “i’m  just…  so  worried.  about  everyone,  you  know?”  it  haunts  her  late  at  night,  keeping  her  wired  and  even  casting  shadows  and  chilling,  premonitory  scenes  into  her  dreams:  who’s  next?

                  ❝ yeah.... i do know. ❞  hard not to fret when the wheel of hawkins’ internal disaster compass keeps spinning without offering any useful sense of direction and there’s no magnetic field of realistic explanations to keep it grounded. even with all that proof that proves nothing but the worst, chrissy still feels a lump of stress unravel partway when tina needs no additional detail to keep talking. just a hint at what’s been bothering everyone their age lately set her off enough. it means chrissy isn’t alone. 

midway up the bleachers that used to drive chrissy crazy, the ones parked right next to the pathway leading towards the middle school, she’s realizing how useful they are. the breeze seems to whisk away any words they utter too loudly, leaving them safe in their windy little bubble. good, because chrissy doesn’t want everyone in the yard to hear this next part.   

                 ❝ how come it’s just some of us, though, and not the adults? like, this rally we’re supposed to have in a couple weeks. it wasn’t the squad’s idea, or our coach’s, it was principle higgins’. a rally isn’t going to make us feel better when our friends kept dying all summer. i’m ready for it to stop. but instead of being able to do anything we’re just at school. and that’s it. ❞

💭 + what she wants the most in life

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic

oh man, this was diiiiificult for chrissy to nail down until midway through high school. laura cunningham had a laundry list of short term and semi long term goals that she wanted chrissy to meet, and as the good daughter chrissy adopted them as her own goals. they weren’t what she wanted, though. 

she first starts thinking about long term to life during junior year. it’s when everyone is clamoring their way through college apps and visiting campuses and collecting patches from universities they like and bragging over where they think they’ll get in. for everyone else, college is a vehicle to thinking about what they’re going to do for the rest of their lives. chrissy knows her vehicle to college will be cheer, but goodness knows she’d rather not do that for the rest of her life. no way she could! teaching cheer, though, that could be something. actually.......

surviving the upside down sends her into a state of mental disarray for weeks afterward as she tries to come to terms with what it means to be peeled from the edge and come away alive. but once the fog lifts, a lot more clarifies in its wake. first, she wants to live. actually live and be happy. she doesn’t want to be miserable. figuring out how to do that is step one. step two is how to earn a living while getting better and becoming happy at the same time. something that helps people. she keeps thinking back to cheer coaching, but more and more layers of that are peeled away and she finds herself thinking about teaching. social studies or history or even math. she’s always been good at math and wonders if there isn’t a way to get a job helping kids learn the most challenging yet the most logical of subjects. problem solving. helping people. helping kids.

chrissy realizes the core of everything while knee deep in college, taking a somewhat ill-advised “elective” psychology course: she wants to stay close to the most difficult ages in youth and keep an eye out for who needs a little extra attention or an offer of help. there’s no time to wonder who could have stopped her from becoming weak enough to fall prey to vecna, but regardless if vecna still lives or not, she’ll be watching. and she’ll be happy. that’s her promise to herself, her greatest desire: to get out of hawkins and find what makes her happy out there. she can’t help others if she can’t see beyond her own discontent. and she’s going to help someone if it’s the last thing she does, starting with herself. 

she’s a ten but she absolutely loathes gone with the wind.

well, it was a life worth saving.               /              @galaxycrxss​ (echo)

                          ❝ yours is too. ❞  

as if in deathly agreement - or disdain - a demobat screeched from somewhere far off. chrissy felt shivers wrack from her shoulders all the way down her spine like frigid minnows; one demobat close enough to hear was one too close, in her humble opinion. the hollow in which they huddled felt marginally warmer than the shadows outside and for that she was grateful, but warmth could not defend against dread in this dark underworld. 

                         ❝ you’ve done so well to stay alive down here. i don’t think i could have. it’s not life, though. you should be home with your brother. ❞  easier said than done, if still true. it solidified the roiling, everpresent discomfort roiling in chrissy’s gut to watch the bags stretch below echo’s eyes and track the aches of survival made physical across the poor boy’s frame. this form of him looked nothing like the echo she’d so often spotted supporting his exuberant twin on the sidelines just above and behind the cheer squad during games. a not-so-special edition of the real echo who needed to be anywhere else but here and could he please take her with him? him to his sibling and her to matty. 

                         ❝ there’s got to be a way out. right? ❞

i need everyone to know that this is how chrissy reacts to hearing live metal for the first time.

here’s your “wow, what the hell, jason” for today:  there are multiple guys on the hawkins cheer squad, and like all cheer guys they play a really big part in building the strength of the squad - which we see in the pep rally when they’re assisting with lifts. jason, during his rousing “we’ll win for the dead people” speech, only draws attention to the girls on the squad.