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@chrryslushie
hello and welcome! this is an indie & mutuals only multimuse rp blog mostly focused on sapphic characters. written by camilla.
basic info: this acct will be iconless in replies etc. feat muses from stranger things, yellowjackets, the x-files, and more! pls read dd:dne disclaimer and guidelines in carrd before following!
carrd + muses | prompts | promo
heyyyy how yall doingggg
i promise i'll be back soon! i've been so distracted by so much recently and haven't had a moment to sit and write
”fatherless behavior” actually he was there and that’s quite literally the whole problem
@chrryslushie » -- " well, this has been sufficiently awkward. " // from nancy!
Awkward was a . . . fair estimation of the situation. What else could you call it when you accidentally walk in on someone getting macked on and fully ruining the atmosphere? Had he been in Nancy's place, he'd have felt awkward himself. However, as he'd seen it, being the one getting macked on, it was more of a saving grace. In less than three minutes, he was either going to have to run outta there, leaving a hole shaped like him in the door, or let that girl make a move.
Because she was just about done working herself up to it, since he hadn't made the move himself.
“A little awkward, sure, but that's the cost of saving a guy's life.” Which was why he'd fallen into step with Nance when he could have let himself be led by the sleeve the other direction. “I owe you a proper thank you, one day.”
“For rescuing you from that hostage situation or something else?” Despite not looking the part most days, she had grown accustomed to trying to save the day. Maybe that was what Hawkins did to a person. Threw them into enough disasters that eventually even an uncomfortable conversation started feeling like a life-or-death extraction.
Nancy glanced sideways at him as they walked, one brow arching with faint amusement. “Though, honestly, you looked like you were about three seconds away from climbing out a window to escape her.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth then, quick and fleeting like a matchstrike in the dark. “I figured intervening was the kinder option.” A strand of hair was tucked behind her ear before adding, a little more teasing now, “Guess I didn’t realize I’d be owed a life debt over it.”
"to your credit, it happens to all of us. i'm so sure. because who is comfortable driving one of these one hundred percent? the only ones who are, are not thinking about driving. they're off on mars in their head," fig was trying to make cherry feel better, but that was all of her own opinion. "there's not a chance in hell apple with help you with this though. not a single chance." not that she ever saw apple drive really. but she had her car and it never seemed to be dinged up at all, so she must have been at least a halfway decent driver. "it's either me or pumpkin, cher."
cherry lets out a soft snort at fig's mars comment, the corner of her mouth twitching upward despite herself. "great! so either you're terrified behind the wheel or you're spiritually unavailable and halfway to another planet." she glances over briefly before returning her eyes to the road, shoulders finally loosening a little now that fig isn't actively bracing for death against the dashboard.
at the mention of apple, though, cherry groans dramatically and tips her head back against the seat for half a second. "apple would make me parallel park until i cried." honestly, the image is vivid enough that it almost makes her laugh again.
pumpkin's name earns a much more uncertain hum. "pumpkin would be nice about it..." she admits quietly, fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel. "but i think i'd die a little inside every time she grabbed the oh shit handle." another pause. then, softer, more genuine this time, "i think i'd rather it be you." @divinetenebris
“Oh, is that all? And here I was worried it was something serious.” Steve quipped, an attempt to briefly lighten the mood even as his gaze remained concerned, contemplative while taking hers in. He knew he still felt like it all could go to hell in a moment, like it had so many times before, even if it was all supposed to be over. That even if everything had been destroyed, the aftershocks remained—the nightmares, paranoia, his incessant migraines and fading in and out of his focus. They all could spend the rest of their lives crawling forward and still feel like they never fully recovered.
But Nancy Wheeler deserved every chance to move past it all, that he knew in a world of uncertainties.
“There’s nothing you can’t do once you’ve set your mind to it, Nancy, nothing.” He stated with that same certainty, an unwavering faith. “Whatever that is, even if you’re gonna have to fight tooth an’ nail for it. So, as scary as the future is, it should be a lot more scared of you than you of it, hundred percent.” Giving her a reassuring smile, he crossed his arms, leaning against the railing and sparing a look to the setting sun over town. “You’ll make it through.”
@chrryslushie
nancy's smile softens at that, smaller this time. less performative.
for a moment, she just watches him. the fading sunlight catches against the edges of his profile, warm gold cutting through the scars that exhaustion had left behind on all of them these past few years. it's strange sometimes, how easy it is to forget that this is steve harrington standing beside her. not king steve. not the guy she'd once thought she had entirely figured out at seventeen. just steve. steady and earnest in a way that sneaks up on her every single time.
"you always say things like they're facts," she says quietly, the corner of her mouth tugging upward. "like the universe personally called you to let you know i'm gonna be okay."
her fingers tighten slightly around the sleeves of her sweater before she looks back out over hawkins. the town still looked wrong in places if you stared too long. cracked and stitched together badly. kind of like all of them.
"i don't even know what making it through looks like anymore." she admits after a beat. "everything i planned for feels... far away now. like it belonged to somebody else." then, in a softer voice, "but i think maybe the scarier part is that i can't picture leaving this place without feeling like i'm abandoning everyone."
she glances back at him then, studying his expression carefully. "do you ever feel that way? like if you finally let yourself move on, something terrible's gonna happen the second you stop looking over your shoulder?"
would it be annoying if i added star wars characters here lmao
the creak of natalie's nearing footsteps hardly rose above the faint susurration of soft snores and long, sleep - heavy, breaths — the crackle of the fire splitting the snow - damp kindling, still licking at the innards of the old fireplace. it was habit, she supposed, that kept her so light on her feet; some learned quirk she'd picked up the last few months before the winter had diminished her twice - daily trek through the woods into an unendingly fruitless slog.
" it's getting fucking cold back there, " she murmured back, softly, hesitant to join shauna by the still - smouldering flame, but not willing to shy away, either. the jackie of it all still hung heavy, like dark clouds. nothing needed to be said: nothing that didn't clearly pass across the downward trajectory of nat's sorry glance, anyway.
" look, shauna, I wasn't trying to interrupt... but you should be resting, or something. you probably need it more than the rest of us. "
shauna lets out a quiet huff through her nose, something that almost passes for a laugh before dying halfway out. her knife drags once more against the whetstone in a slow, deliberate scrape. she keeps her eyes on the blade for a moment longer, watching firelight ripple gold across the metal.
"rest," she repeats, like the word itself sounds ridiculous now.
every time she closes her eyes lately, she sees pieces of things. jackie's frozen face. blood beneath her fingernails that never really feels gone no matter how much snow she scrubs them with. meat separating beneath her hands with horrifying ease. like she's learning a language she was always meant to speak.
shauna finally glances up at natalie through the low amber glow of the fire. nat looks tired, too. they all do. worn down to exposed wire and animal instinct. she mutters after a beat, quieter now, "someone's gotta keep the fire alive."
she shifts slightly on the log, enough to make room beside her without directly acknowledging she's doing it. the closest thing to an invitation shauna shipman knows how to offer anymore. "you can sit if you want... unless you're planning on giving another inspirational speech."
omg im gone for a week or so and come back to the dash looking different
@beautifulnancy Liked for a starter
Where in the world did she come from? One moment there was no one: only Rebecca aimlessly making due in the old mall – next, there’s a girl there, by the atrium, with a ray of light dancing down upon her like an angel. Rebecca feels intruders the way flies catch in a spiders’ web, but this one... she didn’t come from any sort of entrances as far as she knows. She just – appeared.
And she looks shaken --
Carefully, the wraith makes the few steps to come into view, the light hitting her hair like a golden, messy halo. “How'd you get in here?”
Nancy startled at the sudden voice, spinning toward it so fast the broken glass beneath her sneakers scraped sharply across the tile. For one wild second, she expected a demodog lunging out of the dark. Instead, it was another woman.
Nancy’s chest still heaved from adrenaline, strands of hair plastered to her forehead from sweat and rain that hadn’t existed a moment ago. Her eyes darted quickly around Starcourt’s ruined atrium. At the collapsed storefronts, the dead escalators, the familiar scorch marks burned into the floor... Starcourt. But not her Starcourt.
“How did I get in here?” she shot back before she could stop herself.
Her voice came out sharper than intended, nerves wound tight enough to snap. She took another careful step backward into the beam of light pouring from the cracked skylight overhead, sizing the stranger up the same way the hell they had all been through had taught her to size up a threat.
“One second I was in Hawkins and the next I was here.” A pause. “Or… back here.” Nancy frowned, unsettled by that more than she wanted to admit. “This place burned down.”
sorry about the inactivity lately... im having a lil depressive episode but i'll be back soon!
Parks and Recreation (2009 - 2015) Forbidden Fruits (2026)
victoria pedretti ⇾ forbidden fruits (2026)
11 out of my 18 characters are lesbians... y'all think i like to write lesbians?
These moments where too much slips are her least favorite, not because people see it in her (at least not people she likes), but because she hates admitting any lack of control. She doesn't like not knowing things, and she doesn't like feeling frustrated. Ally turns her head to smile at River though, appreciating that instead of telling her to calm down, she's at least acknowledging what it is that she's saying. It helps to alleviate a little bit of stress that she's got balled up in her chest right now, and she can't help but laugh.
“We're definitely not as cool as dinosaurs. They could at least just fight and no one cared...” It's a silly thing to say, but she smiles as she looks back up at the ceiling and her fingers tangle in her hair as she tugs it to focus while she takes another breath. Everything has a solution, and actually? River's plan makes her feel like it's the best option right now to try and feel better. “Screaming sounds nice. Come on,” she nods, throwing her legs over the bed and then giving a nod. “Anyone ever tell you that you have very good ideas?”
She laughs at Ally's analogy about the dinosaurs, finding her adorable for even going there with her thoughts. "Maybe that's why people get into like wrestling and kickboxing. They're just channeling their inner dinosaurs." Except for the part that usually they weren't fighting to the death, but River leaves that detail off.
River sits up when Ally agrees to her plan, feeling excited to get some of her own stresses out with screaming--not that she had much to stress out about since her life was supposed to be perfect. Keyword: supposed. "I've been told that a few times here and there." Her own legs are thrown off the other side of the bed and stands up with a mischievous smile. "No pressure, but I also have this for stress relief..." She rummages through her sleepover bag and pulls out a compact usually meant to store cigarettes, but when she opens it there are two joints and a lighter.
