don't sell your soul, baby, you're a dirty gold

Cameron Keisha Kruger-Douglas | xxviii | living in SIN in a catholic church "Trauma and nostalgia are SISTERS and they kiss each other on the TEETH."

[sarahmannin]

I could just sleep here. Don’t be daft. You’ll be scrunched up in a ball.

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

Black Mirror: Hang the DJ (2017) Directed by Timothy Van Patten

[kcddish]

❦ ˚⊹ pinniki haddaway.

perhaps pik SHOULDN’T have followed her… it was an invasion of p r i v a c y, after all. but there was s o m e t h i n g about the way she l o o k e d before leaving st. joesph’s that just WORRIED him ; whether she k n e w what was to happen or DIDN’T, he felt the urge to make sure she was kept s a f e. pik met up with cameron in a h i d d e n manner — a few feet away behind some shrubbery as she s e e m e d to be in a fight. the lanky blonde started p u l l i n g out his knife, m o v i n g out of the bushes to help… but suddenly flinched, catching s i g h t of what she’d DONE.

a SHOCK, he f r o z e, staring at the mutilated corpse and didn’t pay a t t e n t i o n as she seemed to kick the body away and draw n e a r e r, and n e a r e r ; he JERKED when she’d f i n a l l y backed all the way into his legs. dark browns shot down to her and he took a few steps back, surprised. wide eyes f o l l o w e d his camp mate… and silently, he stared — not quite sure what to DO, say… simply, vision kept on her as he a w a i t e d a reaction.

the sensation of a LIVING body at her back made her skin crawl and her stomach churn. already, she had the dead man ( who already found hidden memories, locked deep inside her mind ), another opponent was not something she was looking forward to, or worse--a sympathetic survivor who might have seen her taking out her pent-up aggression on an already dead man.

as she looked up at the man’s face, turning quickly on her heels to rise to standing, she cursed under her breath. the last thing she needed was finn’s WARD running to tell him how CRAZY she was with the business end of a knife. no one living knew what she’d been through before the outbreak made monsters of them all. “did you--” she began, regarding pik which a suspicious, hard gaze, shrugging over her shoulder towards the walker. “did you see that?” 

it wasn’t so bad as if at had been ALIVE, but she did not appreciate having an audience while she worked out old scars. “he was already dead.” she said gruffly, crossing her arms in defense. she didn’t know the boy well, but hoped he wasn't one to prioritize the undead’s “lives” over their own safety; she’d met a handful of folks like that already. if even finn hadn’t learned about the horrible things she’d survived and had done to survive before all this made survivors of them all.

[kcddish]

❦ ˚⊹ judith knox.

      it was just starting to pick up but already snow blinded her, the surroundings covered by a flurry of white and cold, unforgiving wind whipping at her clothes. she was grateful for the jacket aoife had given her in their bargain, it was the only reason she wasn’t a frozen corpse by then. she was pretty sure she took another step, but she’d lost feeling to her toes. 

     was she near a camp? was she near her own tent? how far had she wandered before this storm hit? 

       another step.

      blinking ice from her vision, she tried to see beyond the white, blinding and infuriatingly unhelpful, but within the next moment her view changed. the ground beneath her feet split wide open, dark waters spraying up to soak her layers. she had time to scream to paw at the ground as she fell forward, the bottom of her plunged into icy waters. “ help! help! ” a final scream and then she slid further into the water.

the snow was a surprise, even after the time she’d spent in cheyenne. in seattle, snow was nothing compared to a wyoming winter. no stranger to layering from the grey and rainy weather she was baptised in, cameron found the bulk of winter coats a HINDRANCE. determined to search out more firewood, she had not heeded the concerns of finn--a man who knew the winters in his home state better than she ever could.

lost among the unending whiteness, cameron refused to admit defeat. stubborn beyond reason, she could not return home empty-handed. careful steps chose their ground wisely as she came to the realization that the solid ground beneath her had once been a body of water and not the road she was SURE she’d been on. her fears were confirmed with a deafening CRACK ! accompanied by a cry for help.

“goddamnit!” cameron cringed, swearing between clenched teeth as she looked furtively from her own shaky ground to the origin of the voice, obscured by powdery white winter. in a beat, she was tearing blindly across the ice--almost slipping into the frozen waters herself in her haste. tearing off her coat, which they’d both need to be dry, if this FOOL’S ERRAND didn't end their sorry lives, cameron shoved her face beneath the waters, forcing her eyes open to search for the owner of the voice and reaching a shaky arm beneath the surface to offer--hoping that the old analogy for helping others didn’t ring true; would a drowning woman pull her rescuer down in the depths of frozen hell with her?

[love]

by Martha Rich

[solasdisapproves]

[kcddish]

“you son of bitch.” tears crystallizing to dark eyelashes like snowflakes before they could even hope to fall, cameron shoved the dead man back to the ground with the heel of her hand digging into his slowly decaying chest. by the looks of him, he’d only recently turned. the cold, wintry cheyenne weather could preserve rotting flesh for so long--but eventually, living or dead, THINGS FALL APART. even in her frenzied attack, cameron could appreciate this knowledge as she shoved the blade of the knife into the man’s throat, using both hands to sever his spinal cord. beneath his dark hair and decaying flesh, the resemblance was too uncanny for comfort. all these years and every time cameron drove a knife into undead flesh she was reminded of the first time she’d plunged a blade into someone LIVING--long before the outbreak and its many horrors, she had lived her own feature-length film; THE FINAL GIRL in her own nightmare. pushing back from the familiar face ( or was it truly just a trick of the haunting moonlight, reflecting from the snow? ), cameron felt her tailbone hit the icy street with a cold thud as she kicked away from the body--backing up into the very ALIVE legs of someone whom had been watching her all along.

[armie-hammer]

[lustt-and-luxury-deactivated201]

[ruilian]

url edit for @persesphne

q u e e n of the underworld

[contriitions]

what's your biggest fear regarding cameron meeting your family?

      ❝  I do not have any fears about Cammy meeting my siblings.  ❞  Then why had he waited so long to tell her he even had them? Simple: if they met, Cameron would know the truth, that Finnegan Stokely was no saint.

( @kcddish : @bittcrglory : @masonstckely )

[contriitions]

are you afraid that three really IS company and allowing someone else to live in the church is going to be a MAJOR cockblock? :/

       ❝  Major—?   ❞  His face briefly contorts into a plain look of confusion before it falls into a deadpan stare.  ❝  There is nothing to coc—there is nothing to block.  ❞  The deadpan stare softens with a small shrug.  ❝  There’s no question, I have to open my home to those in need.  ❞  Jesus would have wanted him to.

( @kcddish : @onsilcnt )

[wannabeconfident]

[wordsnquotes]

You go away for a long time and return a different person - you never come all the way back.

Paul Theroux, Dark Star Safari: Overland from Cairo to Cape Town (via wordsnquotes)

[kcddish]

Do your experiences before the outbreak make it easier or harder to survive in the apocalypse?

“yeah, but what’s worse is that it was probably worth it.” it’s fucked up to think and even WORSE to say, but cameron had fought too hard to die like so many others had at the beginning of the outbreak. life wasn’t that great, but it was all she had and she’d hold onto it, nails digging into it like CLAWS.

[kcddish]

When will you admit that you're in love with Finn?

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have anything to admit.” brows rise defiantly, her best annoyed smirk tugging at her lips. the smirk deepens thoughtfully, before she teases. “at least not until he does.” ( @contriitions )

[kcddish]