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calcifersfireplaceao3-moved · 2 years

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hellcheer wip

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Just a short WIP, taking place in Eddie’s trailer

General audiences

"You'll laugh." Chrissy fidgets and laughs nervously. "It's not exactly…"

She gasps in surprise as Eddie rockets off of the decrepit couch with such force as to almost bounce her off with him. Despite herself, the nightmares, the dizziness and confusion — she laughs. Eddie is kneeling dramatically in front of her, hand over his heart as he bows low.

"My fair lady. Miss Chrissy Cunningham, I would do no such thing." There’s a Cheshire cat smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

"Do you do stuff like this all the time?" She may be deflecting, sure, but genuine curiosity is taking hold of her. Wanting to know this strange boy better, why he cares so little about being so different, that's not a bad thing right?

He looks up at her, brushing an errant curl aside without thinking and in his big dark eyes she can see him calculating. Boys have looked at her like this before, deciding which approach will work best. Will he change his tactic? Switch back to being the intimidating cafeteria version of himself? Pretend to be cool, that he doesn't care — but she's seen a bit of what seems to be the genuine Eddie though, too much for that to work. She drops her eyes to her fingers twisting in her lap, the last smile still halfway on her face but she knows it probably looks cynical now.

"Look…" Eddie sighs, sprawling onto the floor, one leg straight, one bent, leaning back on one hand. "I like hearing you laugh, you look like you need some good times right now and I'm happy to oblige. But I'm also hesitating fulfilling your- request. I don't know what you're so freaked by but I don't think adding a bad trip on top of all that crap will be helping you any. Honestly? You look like you'd even have a bad high on the maryjane so I — "

For the first time he looks at a loss for words, ruffling his hair at the back of his head as he ducks forward to try and look into her eyes. "Clue me in a little, yeah? Consider a little therapy another freebie."

Eddie lets her make the next move, waiting in patient stillness she didn't expect from him, the only giveaway of his usual demeanor is his fingers tapping rhythmically against his thigh. A tic he hasn't seemed to notice. She's about to drop it, ask him to take her home — or shoot, even walk if she has to — but the silence is starting to sound like the ticking of a clock. The imaginary swing of a pendulum, the faintest illusion of a whisper of her name spurs her into talking.

"Being, well… Cheering was fun, it was fun to learn and fun to perform but then…" She can't look at him anymore. "Then people really started looking, and at first I didn't mind it, you know? Who doesn't want to feel loved, to be told they're pretty? I've wanted to be called that, to be looked at, or — or I guess I was told I should want that. But now no one cares about the choreography I make, they care about what makeup I use. Now 'pretty' feels like a — a cage."

"I wanted the attention, I wanted to be the pretty cheerleader, to be looked at, loved," alarmed she feels tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes and when she swipes at them reflexively she has a panicked thought about her mascara and blush running — proving the point.

Eddie has no idea though that her worrying about her makeup just confirms that she's just as shallow as she's afraid of. He's still watching with his thoughtful expression, rolling up off leaning back to reach towards her before pausing and pulling out the handkerchief that usually dangles out his back pocket and offers it to her. It's probably disgusting but she takes it anyway, wiping carefully under her eyes with a few more sniffles before carefully folding it and returning it to him.

"Well. Like I was saying, I just uhm. I have a lot of pressure to keep that up." Chrissy smooths her skirt, feeling vulnerable having burst into tears spilling her guts to the biggest social outcast of Hawkins High. Instinctively she plasters on her best smile, her push-through-a-sprained-ankle-during-a-lift smile, shoving down her mother's voice — "I want something to take the edge off."

"Nah." Eddie shakes his head, his expression somewhere in the family of pity, sympathy, "no, I'm not gonna do that."

Just about when she's about to protest he shushes her, "Seriously, you gotta trust me, we can smoke a joint here, sure man whatever, but I'm not giving you anything stronger."

He gesticulates when he talks still, but it's less dramatic, simply the way he talks without any added flair. The rings on his hands glint even in the low light and he smiles warmly at her. "If this is going to be the start of our dealer-dealee relationship I can't have you off by yourself in a bad trip."

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I do have an end point in mind with this, I’ll probably keep messing around with it, but idk if I’ll post it to my AO3. For someone who didn’t like this season on every level all the way down to a technical standpoint something about this one specific interaction stuck with me. Maybe I’ll continue this but since I definitely have other things I should be writing instead I figured I’d drop this off here for now for anyone else still stuck on Them.

ps. don’t be a tool, yeah? I’m not looking for an excuse to use the block button but I also won’t hesitate

#hellcheer #edrissy #eddie x chrissy #stranger things 4 #chrissy cunningham #eddrissy #eddissy #eddssy

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freewomenwriters · 7 years

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This is for all the women who bent their heads so we could stand tall. Courage is not always loud. Sometimes you can be oblivious to it happening before your eyes. The courage that has gotten us here May not be heard, but it lives in the eyes of a mother. She stares straight ahead Every time her husband yells at her. She shakes her head When her son calls her daughter “half-brained”. The world crushes her into the ground, But she still lives so she can get her daughter to school. She says “yes” so that her daughter will one day have the right to say “no”. She teaches her daughter to be hard, to be brave, to stand up straight. Her quiet disapproval, her kind revolution, Teaches her daughter that despite the world looking down at her, She has someone to look up to. She can dream of a world more equal. A world where her voice matters, A world that doesn’t see her body as sinful, And a place where she is more than only an object of pleasure. In that world, she can grow up to be who she wants to be. In that world, she will be without fear. — Artwork: “Burqa My Foot” by Sulaiman Edrissy

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