Latest Posts by greenscrunchy - Page 3

just wanted to give a shoutout to @greenscrunchy! the mun is super nice and has made me feel so welcome in this fandom and they’re a pleasure to see on my dash! their chrissy is great and they deserve to know it! <3

*slams adoption papers  onto the table* you're staying.

indie.    𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚  𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨    of  resident  evil  village.  loved  by  aila,  25+.         some  base  graphics  provided  by  blitzkriegers.

Send 🌿 to accidentally get caught under the mistletoe with my muse.

@greenscrunchy asked: i’m so late but 📜 Send in 📜 and I’ll use this incorrect quotes generator using your muse and my muse. | accepting!  

Nancy:  Chrissy… Chrissy:  Oh  no,  ‘Chrissy'  in  b-flat. Chrissy:  You're  disappointed.

chrissy is at heart a profoundly private person who tires in social situations far quicker than she lets on and will never admit. this becomes especially apparent once she leaves hawkins for college and then for good. (her one exception is cheerleading.)

she’s also the type that will invite friends who don’t have a place to go for the holidays over for thanksgiving and christmas and new years and easter and whatever. you don’t have family or a place to go for the holidays? now you do. you don’t want to deal with your family? come over to her place instead. she gets it.

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙄𝙀 𝙈𝙐𝙉𝙎𝙊𝙉                           ( hellmartyr​ )

you deserve better than this … better than me … — @greenscrunchy / angsty prompts

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐒.

      at first eddie thought her sadness was a detail in a dream. a specter of the subconscious, summoned by whatever bullshit mayhem his beer-battered brain was slathering across his cortex. bad trip without the high, when senses got so convinced that reality was just a suggestion right up until your eyes split open and the lucid imagery turned a slippery mess.

      awareness emerged from a cloudy pool, prodding floaty nerves with tingling pins and needles. chrissy was a silent echo ringing in his ears, her words too old to be strung together were now indiscernible water drops dispersed into the corners like shades.

      dark eyes fluttered open to an even darker room. a backlighting of blue cut through the gap between the curtains and the window. the back of his hand, stationed beside his nose, soaked up the cobalt. eddie’s fingers retracted from the temptation to reach over and prove to himself that his friend was still asleep. that the lonely lie had not been real, just a figment of a morbid imagination. but the sour knot in his gut warned that the moment his warmth met hers, she’d betray them both with a wince.

      ❝ whose voice told you that? ❞ he asked the deep blue, ❝ vecna’s? ❞ venom coated the name. two thousand miles was not enough to stall a fresh the anger felt each time eddie recalled his unseen enemy. the lich survived, the chorus of heartbeats buried in his honeycomb scars reminded him that the promise of retribution at the climax of a hero’s tale was a fantasy, not a guarantee.

      crisp sheets rustled as the young man twisted around and peered at the soft outline balled up on the other side of the barrier. eddie hovered, searching for an explanation too private to see.

      ❝ yours? ❞ gingerly he sat up to project his plea over the fort, ❝ chris? ❞

      the headboard creaked against his weight as eddie propped himself against the frame. his perspective switched between the popcorn ceiling and the vortexed donald duck on his nightshirt.

      ❝ y’know, for a really long time, the only friends i had were in books. i, uh, i think middle school was the first time i hung out with someone and not because we were sent to the principal’s office together. so, can you level with me? because this isn’t exactly my field of expertise, ❞ the back of his skull clocked the wall as eddie fixated plaster clusters above, finding cohesive shapes were there was none, ❝ and fuck if i know what can be better than the best. ❞

a turned back was small defense from the wave of honesty soaking the darkened bedroom. chrissy had balled herself around a swelling hurricane of inferiority masked by a now faded silhouette of tweety bird, its cheery yellow emblazoned across her nightshirt faded into black shadow. her formerly upward mood had faded with an equal ferocity earlier that afternoon. being hopeful, even happy, something like truly happy, around eddie had become nearly as easy as breathing. natural. but it was as easy and natural to watch her bright little world closing in around her after listening to a crazed and caustic telephone message from none other than laura cunningham.

if nothing else, laura was consistent. there wasn’t a word in the message chrissy hadn’t been pierced by a thousand time before. she knew the cadence of her mother’s derision almost better than the sound of her own private thoughts. but it wasn’t a mother’s ire that bounced around her mind at the speed of a rogue basketball, or even a mother’s doubt.

                        ❝  mine. i say so. ❞

after all his kindness that he’d brought to her doorstep, this is what she had to offer. doubt.

                        ❝ i’m not just saying that, eddie. you –  ❞  god, what was the point? what was the point of her, being such a bottomless pit on whom generosity was wasted because she couldn’t even grasp it long enough for a chance at absolution? honestly, she must not deserve a drop if she was as watertight as a sieve. 

                        ❝ you came all this way and i’m a mess. ❞  the vise of her jaw clapped shut as how she truly sounded dawned upon her. belated good sense whispered the danger of what eddie might think she meant, right after the words marched out of her mouth.  ❝ scratch that. having you here…. it’s more than anyone’s done before? i guess i feel awful for wanting you to stay but i really don’t want you to leave. ❞

all the sequestered pain she’d been carrying like buried shards of glass since eddie arrived flayed her insides on the way out, dragging stringy regrets and shriveled, acid-burnt hopes along with them. a piteous river of entrails with so many shameful secrets on display, knotted beyond any hope of detangling and none of her tossing and turning in the middle of the night would sort her out. 

in the midst of her disquiet, chrissy eased to her other side where the pillow wall waited. her stupidest idea possibly ever. just over the top she could see eddie’s head, but that was all. it was a protection and a taunt all at once. a joke she'd cracked at her own expense. her left hand lifted almost without her permission to skate the top of the farcical wall and tug it down, just a little, to pull eddie’s presence a tiny bit closer. maybe this way he could hear what she was really trying to say in between all her bouts of lunacy. 

                        ❝ do you know what left handed people are called?  ❞

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝘼𝙉𝙂𝙀𝙇𝘼                                 (hitbyarollerskate​)

✨───── Angela & Chrissy @greenscrunchy​

       “Yes?” Was all Angela said when she noticed the girl in front of her

                    ❝ .....did i interrupt something? ❞  malls everywhere were a great place to get lost in window shopping; chrissy certainly wasn’t immune to losing track of time crawling from display to display, going so far as to check the state of her makeup in the reflections. more so since moving. all the california heat still took getting used to and her hawkins cosmetics had to rise to the occasion. but the mall wasn’t exactly her stage, nor the mannequins her audience. maybe this girl thought differently? was it a west coast thing?  ❝ i mostly just wanted a closer look at these jeans. didn’t think i was in your way. ❞

louise glück, from averno

if she were completely honest, chrissy hadn’t expected colorado in the summer to rain quite so much.

a riotous violet and crimson sky wrung down torrents of raindrops that lost their speed halfway down the hatch, landing on pavements and roofs with tepid, pathetic splats once they met resistance. trapped june heatwaves sizzled beneath clouds of steam that rose all the way up to the motel’s second floor window. it must have been an hour ago that eddie’s van had skidded into the parking lot before the storm rolled over them with a vengeance, effectively trapping them below liquid curtains of pelting rain.

since then chrissy had opted to change out of her sodden clothes and into much drier ones. one end of her duffel became soaked during the mad dash for the reservation office, but not enough to be disastrous. she was, however, still wringing out her hair when she joined eddie in looking out their window. 

the room’s two armchairs had been hauled together to make a kind of enclosed bench that could almost pass for cozy if it weren’t for the startling palette of threat-coloured weather on the other side of the wall. chrissy gingerly lowered herself into the empty seat across from eddie, collecting all her limbs tightly together to save room, though the edges of her flip flops still knocked against his feet and her arms skated against his jeans whenever she made a slight movement. but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was just.....still. 

a peal of thunder rolled almost lazily through the passing clouds, followed by scattered electric pitchforks visible for long moments. “god’s bowling,” her dad used to theater whisper with a grin. in between noise and light the harshest downpours seemed to have moved along, changing to a thoroughly soaking but altogether gentler rhythm.

already thick humidity grew heavier with a deeply pocketed dread chrissy hadn’t dared examine since the close of last spring. there was nothing wrong with the motel - or the company. the culprit responsible for all the goosebumps pocking chrissy’s skin was nowhere to be found in the room. no, it was the carbon copy of hell outside, in the color of the clouds, the lightning. in the distant crash of thunder that sounded like the shout of an angry supernatural entity.

chrissy shut her eyes, but neither the dark omens of sound around her nor the weather could be erased. they dwelt in her own private darkness, too, subsumed in forced surrender. when her lids flew open again, the comfort of reality was almost nil.

                     ❝ it looks like the upside down. ❞  this was supposed to be a grand vacation: chrissy and eddie’s cross country adventure to rival the best buddy movie of all time, and in one burst it felt like running again. away from monsters they’d never been taught to fight because no one believed a place like the upside down could exist. but the two of them ran. and ran and ran and ran to get anywhere close to free. 

the air kicked on, disturbing the fine hairs on the back of chrissy’s neck. if reality became anymore flimsy, she might've thought it was vecna breathing down her neck again, running his claws across her cheeks and telling her don’t cry, don’t cry. 

it was only a week, but it was the longest year of my life.           /          @hellmartyr​ 

don’t cry, chrissy. 

a pale hand snaked forward to root around in the dim room for one of eddie’s hands, gripping stiffly when she found one. were she with anyone else it might be crossing a line, but she and eddie were well past that. they’d had to be in order have a crapshot at coming out of the void alive. some days, it felt like part of their very souls had been seared off and scraped away down there, with no hope to regain what was lost. no one else seemed to understand that but the person everyone thought had killed her.

                    ❝ yeah, it felt way longer. ❞  like a lifetime, if she was frank.  ❝ i still have the nightmares. sometimes. i don’t know why i thought they would go away after a while, but they haven’t. i still see the bats. i see him, ❞  she heard herself rattle aloud.  ❝ for a long time, i think i’m okay and then....and then i can’t stop thinking about it. like i’m afraid real life won’t be real and i’ll be gone again. ❞  the hand wrapped around eddie’s began to tremble but she kept holding.  ❝ ....do you still have the nightmares? ❞  does he still scare you, too?

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙑𝙀 𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙏𝙊𝙉                      (starsinshadows​)

@greenscrunchy​ gets a starter cause I said so…

     The early December weather in Indiana should have made the idea of an outdoor party unacceptable, but with a bonfire going and enough alcohol, most of the teenagers present had only bothered with sweatshirts and body heat to supplement despite the snow on the ground outside of the fire’s heat. Steve had given up his coat to the “flavor of the week” – a pretty girl named Becky that he would actually probably date for a month or so, possibly through Christmas if she continued to not ask questions and stayed content to just be casual and have fun. She was currently laughing with some of her friends on the other side of the fire, beers in hand, and probably gossiping about their boyfriends or some poor kid that wasn’t popular and didn’t deserve the bullshit.      He leaned back on the lawn chair someone had brought out, looking sprawled and comfortable as he sipped at his beer like the King he was supposed to be, and he put on the smiles, shot back insults and sharp jokes as was required of him whenever the attention landed on him. Becky had come over fifteen minutes before to sit across his lap and make out, probably to show off to someone, but she’d gone back to her friends for the time being. He was her ride, so she’d make her way back to him before the end of the night, and she’d make sure she had a story to tell them all in the morning, he was sure.      He didn’t care. At least, that was what he told himself, and it was mostly true even if not in the way that he wanted it to be. He didn’t care about any of this, and it showed in brief, quiet moments when he stared at the fire and the exhaustion that he tried to keep hidden eased out at the edges of his being and the strange little streaks of gray that were appearing in his hair caught the firelight. Few people dared mention it, not willing to have Tommy H, Carol or half a dozen other people turn on them, but the kids had also noticed and Nancy had asked if he was sleeping at all. Only Robin knew and she’d passed on this particular gathering – not that he could blame her. He was ‘holding court’, so to speak, but he wasn’t interested in any of it and hadn’t been for awhile. Part of him wished he could just wander off into the woods and leave the circus behind, but that was the whole point of the charade to begin with; he had to hide the fact that he didn’t belong here anymore.

was chrissy cunningham a party person or not? 

staring hard into the dancing flames of the titular bonfire, chrissy clutched the neck of a wine cooler in both hands and asked the question for quite possibly the twentieth time since her upper school career had begun. and for the twentieth-or-other time, she still wasn’t sure. 

maybe it was a hawkins problem. were their parties lackluster thanks to the somewhat backwoods, down-home, small town (et cetera, et cetera) feel to hawkins? it wasn’t actually that small, all things considered, it just wasn’t a city. maybe that was the source of the issue and only cities had good parties. or was it just that she was inexperienced? chrissy scoffed at nothing and watched as the feathery plume of her frozen breath flew off to join the embers in the air. no, she’d been to enough “my parents are gone this weekend!” get-togethers and basketball game afterparties to use that excuse.

even more depressing was the thought that maybe parties were just like this everywhere and hawkins wasn’t an exception but the rule.

                       ❝ like what? ❞  a female voice seemed to slice through chrissy’s inner monologue. she glanced up sharply, but sighed once she put it all together: the interruption was just becky, having absconded from her dramatic perch on her throne - aka steve - exclaiming something to tammy and sue at chrissy’s elbow. a little spooky, but overall harmless. 

out of curiousity chrissy tipped her body backward so as to look past the girls. sure enough, there lounged king steve with his beer and his hair reigning over all of his subjects with a fuzzy smirk and the occasional cheers and nod for good measure. it could have been the inconstant light of the fire casting shadows where none usually sunk, but she could have sworn steve looked aloof in a way that didn’t quite match with his usually too cool for this school attitude. 

an absentminded tap of a nail against glass reminded the strawberry blonde of the drink she was still gripping. chrissy snorted lightly at nothing again, hoping neither becky or sue heard her. always the possibility of the wine cooler making everything just a little more maudlin to factor in, too. chrissy definitely considered herself a part-time lightweight, but a cooler and half should hardly be enough to make her buzzed unless her tolerance changed in the past month. 

except that she leaned back one more time, a little less steadily, and now steve looked hollow. haggard firelight washed across him courtesy of the still healthy blaze, but not even that seemed to break apart his dull mien. okay, something was up. without question.

one foot at a time chrissy did her best to scoot past the nearby knot of girls and amble in steve’s direction without being pulled back toward the fire. which is where she would like to be but for the fact that heaviness spread over steve’s brow was more interesting than discussing the macy’s christmas sale. becky did whine her name but only once, and chrissy assured her of a return at some point. by then she was halfway to steve’s lawn chair. only a few more steps and she’d come up beside the saggy excuse for a seat. mercifully some heat still reached into the fringes where steve was hiding.

without so much as a pause, chrissy plopped to her haunches and curled herself over her knees facing the fire but with squinted eyes pointed toward steve. this way she wouldn’t be planting her rump in a pile of snow and making the evening even less pleasant for herself.

                      ❝ what’s up? ❞  asked through her jacket sleeve, the popped p emerged a little less sharp but nothing could hide the sound of a grin that verged on loopy.  ❝ not enough beer or too much? you look kinda like the kingdom’s seen better days. ❞  

on lucky days, the most isolated and quiet location in hawkins high wasn’t actually in the school, but out. along the far wall of the library, past shamefully dusty card catalogues, lurked a fire exit door that existed as an open secret to smokers and escapists alike. once through the forbidden passageway, down the wrought iron steps to the ground below, the narrowest point between hawkins high and middle schools stretched like a long and lonely wind tunnel. ideal for ferrying worries or wisps of smoke far, far away if the need arose.

although, the “fire exit” status was rather a legal misnomer considering that the alarm was turned on once a year solely for when the fire department barreled through to inspect. once the inspectors left, the alarm was switched off and the smokers among the staff and students could puff in peace yet again. 

but unlike the rest of the usual suspects chrissy was no smoker. what she needed today was a little silence and air. across campus the sleepy post-lunch lull reigned supreme for a little while and she’d slumped on the bottom step of the fire escape, praying for just five minutes of solitude. ten if any higher power felt merciful, but five was enough. a couple minutes separated from the rare but explosive cheer squad drama. three hours on and chrissy’s ears still rang from the vitriolic fury slung like bombs ricocheting through the changing room, spraying shocked girls with more verbal shrapnel than shower water. 

cheating of some kind; that’s what all the shouting was about. at least, that was the general consensus disseminating throughout the student body by mid-morning. later, once the steam of anger and after-practice adrenaline had worn off, the story cleared up further: samantha rosen’s boyfriend coulter and abbie smitter had drunkely screwed after a seniors-only party last saturday night and managed to keep it to themselves......until coulter gleefully spilled his guts to the wrong person. all the cheer seniors were picking up battle stations, rapidly expecting the rest of the squad to match their energy and claim a side. 

barely half a day of it and chrissy was exhausted. staring down at her pale green manicure (she’d have to go in again on saturday for a touch up) and picking at her cuticles so as not to sully the polish further, chrissy couldn’t help but wonder the point. of all of it. why cheat? why gossip? what could it mean if samantha was one of the most gorgeous girls on the squad and she still had a wandering boyfriend? 

absolutely none of those were productive roads to go down, yet down chrissy went until the next period’s bell abruptly screamed behind her as if sensing the dangerous spiral. so the absent cheerleader obediently sighed herself to her feet. she’d lately been alternating use of her free period between laps around the exercise field and hiding between the library stacks. today’s circumstances presented the perfect excuse to burrow into her statistics homework, allowing what drama prowled the halls to pass her swiftly by.

god, that was all she wanted right now. for no one to ask anything of her except numbers that she could put in their correct places and problems she could make sense of. all she had to do was slip to her locker then slip back to the library unaccosted. easier said than done, but if she could just get through the stacks first, then maybe....

the imaginary mental map of hawkins high conjured in her head left enough vigilance to shut the fire escape door silently but not much more. with her gaze on her feet chrissy completely missed telltale shadows that looked nothing like bookshelves and managed to shoulder check an entire person. with interest. 

                   ❝ sorry, sorry, i totally wasn’t watching wh — ❞ 

her voice already softened in a whisper to suit the environment, it dropped out completely once the cheerleader looked up. really looked up. to a lot of denim, long curly hair, and a dangerous looking earring. a trademark to anyone who knew their wary way around the school. chill out, just apologize, it’ll be fine. no one’s looking.  ❝ — where i was going. hi, billy. ❞  she made a slow, telling glance toward the exit she’d just left behind.  ❝ are you on your way out? it’s nice out there right now. not too cold. ❞

                                    a note for @firelightfables​’ billy hargrove

nothing new // taylor swift feat. phoebe bridgers

game day thrills came and faded all too quickly. sometimes it didn’t matter what rung of the championship ladder hawkins was on (or falling off), the whole school was filled with high voltage anticipation bordering on deadly. from the knife’s edge of the inner circle, chrissy watched as weeks leading up to important games spawn everything from handmade spirit shirts to garish posters on walls and on lockers, even culminating in creative little chants some students would come up with to shout during the game itself. never mind that there was an entire troupe of girls created for such a purpose. nevertheless something about their enthusiasm did rouse a consistent smile from chrissy — and assured her that her significantly softer cheers might go unnoticed.

when the day itself finally dawned, until the gym began filling “game day” mostly meant rushing to and from extra routine run-throughs and a day of wearing the uniform. the former was more enjoyable than annoying, and the latter was so non-negotiable that chrissy nearly abandoned feeling any way at all. she’d borderline coveted the sleek look all through middle school as if mere cloth had the power to change her life, the elegantly embroidered swoops of her name on a sweater heralding a new era of chrissy cunningham at her best and brightest. for the first few weeks of high school cheer, those dreams seemed almost corporeal. then she learned how often her bare legs would sprout goosebumps when someone’s eyes lingered too long. it took a year, but she’d successfully trained herself out of tugging at the hem after nearly pulling it off completely. 

almost worse than her self-consciousness was how jason seemed to earn his badge of “tiger” on those days, prowling around with narrowed eyes in chrissy’s wake just in case someone looked at her wrong. but there was a solution for that; sitting with jason at lunch eased his high hackles enough that he could be borderline pleasant in the hallways. in that regard the boys’ table, infinitely worse in its volleys of conversation than her squad’s, was a well-met sacrifice.

now the quarter final was upon the hawkins tigers and the high school buzzed like a provoked nest of hornets. the seniors were down one player in steve harrington, still recovering from a beating of comic book proportions, yet their “winner’s spirits” remained high and their thirst for the proverbial blood of their opponents was….interesting. the kind of make-it-or-break-it intense only high school basketball players were capable of, chrissy hoped.

the moment came at last for the levy to break and a stream of green and orange to joyously spill across the basketball court like a prairie sunset in summer. pompoms flew, legs kicked, and for the entirety of their opening routine chrissy let the blood in her veins scream to the beat of the hawkins band. gosh, was she proud of her squad. and in the middle of choreographed melee, proud of herself, too. her flier sequences were only getting tighter with each practice. while her timing had never been sloppy, the feeling of becoming one with the squad pulled her from the void of her self assurance for precious minutes at a time. 

but, as always, all that pep never lasted long enough and before chrissy knew it she was on her knees at the edge of court with the rest of the girls. normally she'd people watch while trying to keep a closely tracked eye on squeaky-shoed boys as they hopped from one end of the room to another. except her curiosity had pinned itself to a very bruised, very benched harrington. the hair was only a fraction less meticulous in its typical sculpt and his rainbow of wounds announced through a spectrum of purples and greens that they were at least healing. he just looked so tired. the kind of exhaustion that couldn’t be remedied, only pushed through. 

barely ten minutes had passed before chrissy could no longer stomach the sight. under cover of a set of free throws for the away team, she squirreled her way from the middle of the squad lineup toward the bench, only almost tripping over someone’s fingers and toes one time each. 

once at steve’s side she wasted enough time waffling over how firmly to tap him on the shoulder that the game had resumed in earnest. so, she gingerly poked him in the arm while trying to speak against the din. 

                            ❝ um, steve? are you sure you’re okay? you don’t look li — ❞  students erupted as hawkins snatched the ball and made a dash toward their hoop. chrissy dutifully wiggled her pompoms ‘til the action moved once more toward center court.  ❝ —  i mean i was just wondering, is it too loud? ❞

                                   a note for @starsinshadows​’ steve harrington

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

okay i think i’ve waited a healthy amount of time — here’s the inaugural starter call! any and all verses are open as options. lengths will range from several inches to a mile. may or may not also include bonus musical tracks.   no cap / no expiration.

amylforsythe: Oh Chrissy. How sweet; you little tortured soul. […]

𝔹𝔸𝕐𝕆ℝ 𝕆ℂ𝔸𝕄ℙ𝕆'𝕊 𝕄𝕀𝕏𝕋𝔸ℙ𝔼  X  𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓎     @athousandmilesandcounting​

time wants me around, give my word to the gravediggers ( middle of nowhere - vancouver sleep clinic )  /  i wanna be like the future shine high on a new horizon ( future shine - flor )  /  we made our beds and we'll make our own choices ( renegades - one ok rock )  /  we swore in autumn’s wake we carry ourselves out ( in autumn - greywind )

𝔼𝔻𝔻𝕀𝔼 𝕄𝕌ℕ𝕊𝕆ℕ'𝕊 𝕄𝕀𝕏𝕋𝔸ℙ𝔼  X  𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓎   ( @hellmartyr​ )

i just want you to know who i am ( iris - goo goo dolls )  /  chase the water racing from the sky ( under a glass moon - dream theater )  /  i can tell that you notice all the things i keep down ( free them - one ok rock )  /  city in the rearview and nothing in the distance ( next in line - walk the moon )  /  i promise that i’ll never let you feel alone ( won’t go - snuffles )  /  tell me your love is still only mine ( eddie my love - the chordettes )

𝔼ℂℍ𝕆'𝕊 𝕄𝕀𝕏𝕋𝔸ℙ𝔼  X  𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓎   ( @galaxycrxss​ )

i never thought i'd lose my place, i never thought it'd slip away ( guarded - flor )  /  hear me when i say i’m leaving winter for the spring ( don’t want to go - nigel good )  /  echoes inside - dugo  /  i’ve been through hell and back ( learn to let go - kesha )  /  1984 - the northern lights  

𝕃𝕀𝕊𝔸 𝔾𝔸ℝ𝕃𝔸ℕ𝔻'𝕊 𝕄𝕀𝕏𝕋𝔸ℙ𝔼  X  𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓎   ( @nonangelic​ )

as long as nobody’s listening, this fate of our is worsening ( 24 - flor )  /  heaven can you help us where we can’t go ( covered by roses - within temptation )  /  angels fall like rain and love is all of heaven away ( the ghost in you - the psychedelic furs )  /  ghost duet - louie zong

Émotion (Nobuhiko Obayashi, 1966)

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

reblog this to give the person you reblogged this from a gold star because they’ve been stellar today and they deserve it ⭐️

send  ❛ ♡ ❜  to suddenly hug my muse  ! 

could be angst  ,   romantic   ,  plationic  ,  etc.

Led Zeppelin – Going To California