#tyyyyy casey if i ever finish this fic it will be for you <3

[kipperlillycopperkettle]

OMG CHRISSY ROBIN FIC IM LOOKING

so like, as we all know, i have a type™ when it comes to characters and chrissy is like, spot on in that type, and i immediately imprinted on her like a baby duck when i started watching st4. and then i was devastated when, well. you know. also like, i don't like robin/vickie a lot, i think they have really similar personalities and that's just not interesting to me as a ship dynamic and i thought chrissy and robin would be extremely cute together so i started a fic.

and i got about 1,400 words in before it hit me in the face that, like, as much as i hate that chrissy was another plot hook female death by the duffers (this is a trend they do and i hate it a lot and also think it's misogynistic) that not killing her means. that i have to come up with the plot. and that's hard. anyway this is the opening scene

“are you like, okay in there?” it’s a voice chrissy finds vaguely familiar. it’s even harder to place than normal when she’s in the middle of vomiting. 

“yeah,” she coughs. “i’m fine. stomach bug, or something.” she’s lying, but this random stranger doesn’t need to know that. chrissy flushes the toilet, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and stands up, smoothing her skirt out. she opens the stall door to find a girl standing right in front of her, tall and lanky with her chestnut-colored hair cut into a cute bob, wearing the green and yellow of a hawkins high marching band uniform. 

“are you sure?” the girl asks, and it’s then that chrissy finally places her. robin something. used to be friends with that girl who died the fall of their sophomore year. she looks genuinely concerned, despite the fact that chrissy barely knows who robin is — and, she assumes, vice versa. 

“yeah,” chrissy nods, offering her a weak smile. she’s not going to tell robin, of all people, about the weird shit she’s been seeing. about the voices she’s hearing. she’s probably just under a lot of stress, and it’ll go away soon enough. after jason gets into college. after she loses a little weight and her mom gets off her back. “um, everything’s good. everything’s great, in fact.”

robin looks at her, scrutinizingly, and it’s like she knows that chrissy is lying. “if you say so, pom-poms.”

chrissy huffs at the nickname, her bangs floating upward a little as she does so. “like you have room to talk,” she says, a little annoyed at the nickname. she’d be more annoyed if there wasn’t a half-grin painted across robin’s face, clearly waiting for her approval. . “you’re in marching band. they have to have school spirit. i’m pretty sure it’s legally required.”

“you’ve got me there,” robin says, a half-grin on her face, and chrissy laughs a little for the first time in weeks, something in her chest feeling lighter and almost freer than it has in a long time. “um, we should probably get back to the pep rally,” she says, and chrissy nods in agreement, and for a second she feels almost sad, and she doesn’t even know why she’d be sad — why should she be sad? it’s not like she and robin are friends, or anything — and then adds, “but if you ever want to, you know, talk, about anything, i can give you my phone number. or, i guess, family video’s phone number. if i’m not at school, i’m usually there anyway. and steve is there, like, all the time, so he’ll tell me you called, if you call and i’m not there. i’m rambling. i do this sometime, it’s like i have a compulsive need to put my foot in my mouth,” she finishes, a barking half-laugh as punctuation, but chrissy, who is frankly a professional at being insecure at this point, can tell there’s a layer of insecurity under it.

“thanks,” chrissy says, and like the rest of her conversation with robin, it feels almost genuine. like the shadows that are lurking over her shoulder — metaphorically and literally, though she’s still pretty sure that the literal shadows are a hallucination as a result of stress, or something, she’s not really sure. she’s not a psychologist, and that’s what the school counselor, ms. kelley, says it is, and who is chrissy to say she’s wrong — “you’re sweet. i’ll definitely give you a call if i need you.”