Latest Posts by greenscrunchy - Page 4

Uh so in other good news, flattery works with me, so Twenty-five percent discount for the half. Fifteen bucks

“being kind takes zero effort” Lies.

Being kind takes enormous effort. Being kind means humbling yourself- it means saying no to your pride- it means forgiving someone instantly- it means putting someone convenience over your own for some time- it means acting as if the universe doesn’t revolve around you. Being kind is hard. Being kind is not butterflies and sickly sweet, half-witted compliments. It’s work. It’s serving others. It’s being silent when you don’t want to. It’s being honest. It’s being gentle. It’s being true even if the other person disagrees. Being kind is one of the hardest things a person can do and we need more of it.

[hoarsely] is everyone ok

chrissy + dustin content <3

𝙏𝘼𝙂 𝙋𝙀𝙊𝙋𝙇𝙀 𝙔𝙊𝙐 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙂𝙀𝙏 𝙏𝙊 𝙆𝙉𝙊𝙒 𝘽𝙀𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙍! repost don’t reblog.

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐑(𝐒): grey, blue, black

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑(𝐒):  strawberry raspberry and peach, although i do love a really solid warm spice. in general i’m more of a savory person so i love deep, warm and spicy flavors

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄(𝐒): historical fiction, science fiction, psychological horror, biographical, mystery and intrigue, and any franken-combo of all of those together

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂: game and film soundtracks, lofi, electronic, electroswing, metal, rock, alternative, etc. td;lr i listen to a whole spectrum of genres, although these are the heavy hitters 

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄(𝐒): all the star wars films, pacific rim, the cabin in the woods, pride and prejudice

𝐅𝐀𝐕 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: all star wars things ever (that’s a series of things, right?), redwall, chronicles of narnia, stranger things, game of thrones, and lord of the rings

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: discovery of kou wo oikakete interrupted my listen of CONFIG.SYS

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: the last tv series i finished was stranger things. before that was the mandalorian, the book of boba fett, kenobi, and the clone wars. although technically i’m never finished with stranger things and i’m never finished with star wars. a few months ago i finished the jurassic park novels and loved them.

𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐄: ??? uhh......i think it might have been jurassic world: dominion! i rarely watch movies these days so i’m an embarrassment in this area 

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆: churchill by andrew roberts / churchill by martin gilbert, d-day by stephen e. ambrose, a house at the bottom of a lake by josh malerman, the bloody chamber by angela carter, the bear and the nightingale by katherine arden, suspicious minds by gwenda bond, lucas on the line by suyi davies okungbowa, a game of thrones / a storm of swords by grrm (rereads heheh), mistress of the art of death by ariana franklin, attack of the clones by r. a. salvatore, the silmarillion by tolkien & and a buuuunch of textbooks for verse and novel research purposes dklfjghdfjg SHHHHHHHHHHHHH

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆: over the garden wall, tales of the jedi, and game of thrones. i am also watching my to-be-watched list go steadily up :/

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍: drafts across blogs, my novels, and staying sane!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲: sweet @sailento​  and @alwaysrevvedup​! thank you aila and graves!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠: @shadowedvales  /  @inimikal  /  @lenorest  /  @vihilum​  /  @sainterror​  /  @finalhorrors  /  @congregaticn  /  @dvarapala  /  @allattonce  /  @familybyerstm  /  @schmakin​  /  @blueminke​  /  @strcngergirls​  -  no pressure to fill all this out, but i absolutely love getting to know my dash better :3​

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙊𝙋𝙃𝙀𝙇𝙄𝘼 𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙍𝙔                               ( sainterror ​)

@greenscrunchy​ : “i always feel sad for the girl that i was.”

pleated skirt smooths out between fingers before her elbows move to rest on the sticky mall table. ophelia considers the weight of chrissy’s words, how they feel like an anvil pressing on her chest. she swirls the red straw around in her cup and brings the bottom half to her mouth, licking the strawberry smoothie off the end, “i used to.” the admission is bitter on her tongue, phe’s brown eyes flicker up.

stray glitter speckles across her skin like freckles, over her lashes and dusted in her hair; it was her armor that reflects back in the yellow lighting of the food court. “and then i just stopped.” 

re: swallowed it down. re: boxed it up. re: poured gasoline over the top and watched it burn. 

grief was not foreign to ophelia perry — it grew around her bones like ivy strangling an old house. which made mourning parts of herself easy. which made killing parts of herself easier. 

she sighs and scrunches up her nose, the watered down smoothie was beginning to look unappetizing the further she stirs the straw, “i thought to myself, phe, if that girl was any good, she’d be sitting here — not me … gotta gut the parts of you that don’t fit anymore,” pull at the sinew of it, tug the meat away, “that’s the only way we can survive all of this.” for emphasis she rolls her eyes around them.

chrissy has learned to like iced tea. she has. it’s got a...taste. something to latch her wandering thoughts to as she sucks what entertainment she can through the straw. phe has red, the same color as chrissy, but the shade appears more vivid plunged into the last dregs of a milkshake. 

a little more alive.

it’s jarring, perpendicular to the topical mood. one that’s less visible than a spider’s web but more present and more sour than venom. it’s the lemon in chrissy’s tea turning sour and warped with every pull of liquid.

                  ❝ you think that’s part of growing up? just.....having to leave everything we thought we were behind? realizing we’re someone else? ❞  

it doesn’t seem correct to have this conversation as a pair of seventeen-or-so year olds in early june. not in starcourt mall surrounded by neon and swinging plastine shopping bags and shrieks of every single kid under seventeen in hawkins  concentrated in the same place, apparently. 

all of a sudden chrissy feels too old for all of this.

how did they get here? to this mental doldrum of withering under the harsh sun of reality catching up to them, the great fibs of youth fading away to husks that befit the parched heart of autumn better than the apex of summer? their very presence, immersed as they are in gridlocked angst, feels obverse to the setting. chrissy did not come to the mall to feel like a square peg smacking at a round hole and yet that’s what happened. maybe phe has a point. maybe, lurking under all the attempts at making sense of lives half lived, this is all there is. 

a last smack of semi-sweetness hiding in her tea yanks at a bit of hope still left. maybe resignation isn’t the totality of their lot. that sure would be nice. 

                    ❝ i’ve got an idea - for when you’re done. something we can do. ❞

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙀𝘿𝘿𝙄𝙀 𝙈𝙐𝙉𝙎𝙊𝙉                           ( alwaysrevvedup​ )

Fairytale? Abrupt, airy laughter escaped him, and hands burrowed themselves further into his pockets. Well—at least she hadn’t laughed. Normally, Eddie didn’t whip out such eloquent descriptors for anything besides Hellfire’s DnD campaigns. After all, what was a good campaign without a good story? But there was a certain ease that came with being around Chrissy, strangely enough, and here came a sentimental ode to autumn tripping of his tongue. 

For a guy like him—a guy of his lower social standing in the high school food chain—he should be on egg shells around her, anxiously waiting for the other shoe to drop. But he wasn’t. If anything, he felt lighter than he had in weeks. 

“Yeah, it is pretty. As pretty as Hawkins gets really.” Silence fell briefly as he searched for what he wanted to say. “You got big plans for Halloween?” he asked conversationally, a brow quirking as he glanced sidelong at her. “Or are you boring and just pass out candy?” The teasing was obvious: from his tone and how his elbow gently knocked against hers. 

                            ❝ so.... ❞  it was almost idiotic how hard she was trying to come up with a good retort, but at first all she could scavenge was an embarrassed, if wholehearted and helpless, giggle. chrissy kept pushing her steps onward through the leaves as though that cycle produced the electricity powering her train of thought. if she could keep moving, she could come up with an answer that sounded distinctly not boring but also reasonably cool.

funny  —  she’d had her expectations, then so did eddie. clearly they were catching up to him, judging by the bony echo of his elbow’s collide against her arm. and he didn’t even seem all that mad about it.

                            ❝ my little brother is going trick or treating and i’ll walk with him for a while. he’s twelve and my parents don’t really want him to go by himself yet. he’s stuck with me, but he still gets to go. i just stand on the curb and look at all the costumes. it’s really cute to see what everyone comes up with. ❞  chrissy shrugged like it was all simply business as usual, pausing to unsnag the toe of her sneaker from a clump of dirt. she’d have to clean off her shoes at school before heading home. coach tweedy wasn’t such a perfectionist that she’d call chrissy out on a smudge or two, but her mother would certainly notice. white reeboks were nothing to be trifled with. she had an image to uphold. an image that only spotless reeboks would support. 

                           ❝ i did used to go to my friend tina’s house after matty was done and she’d split her candy with me while we watched a movie, but she left for college last year. ❞  another shrug. nothing to bother dwelling on since nothing about tina’s absence could be altered. but enough about me. a small smile bloomed as chrissy made a pin-sharp pivot on her left heel to tread backward. now eddie was locked in her sights.  ❝ do you have big plans? ❞

“I used to dislike being sensitive. I thought it made me weak. But take away that single trait, and you take away the very essence of who I am. You take away my conscience, my ability to empathize, my intuition, my creativity, my deep appreciation for the little things, my vivid inner life, my deep awareness of others’ pain, and my passion for it all.”

— Unknown

wait a minute wait a minute wait a minuTE WAIT A——

thank you thank you thank you. to the sender, to @strangerthingspositivity for being a beacon of kindness and light, to my incredible writing partners for allowing me to work out my ideas and for making me smile on the daily. we’ve created stories that transcend the source material yet still appreciate it and value it while making it stronger and more effective. every day that i get on my dash, you all have been the call to action to become an even stronger writer and a more creative thinker, and i cannot show you enough appreciation for that.

Shoutout to @greenscrunchy for such an amazing take on Chrissy. I get such a great depth of her warmth and kindness as a person as well as such well thought out and detailed headcanons. It’s a delight to follow this blog as it is to write with this take on her character. Also, really love the blog’s aesthetics as well. Just chef’s kiss. A+. Much love.

𝙒𝙃𝘼𝙏 𝙄𝙎 𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝘼𝙍𝘾?

𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 / 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝒶𝓇𝒸. you started this story a little hard, or awkward, or stubborn. that's okay. it's harder than it should be to admit, but what you really want is love. that's what your story is all about - not just the act of loving, but the allowance of it. the confession that you do not want to fight or bleed or save the world, but to simply feel the way two hands fit so easily together. you will have two chairs and a table and you will shut your blinds, and you will say the word love without faltering. this is a happy ending, and you do not need to feel guilty. it hurts our hands to fight - never to hold.

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮: @manaborn​  ♡ 𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜:  whoever is curious!

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙅𝘼𝙉𝙀                   ( familybyerstm​ )

❪ 🌺 ❫  ───  ❛  you don’t have to deal with this on your own.  ❜   @greenscrunchy​

             Jane looked up at the other person in front of her as a small smile appeared on her lips “Thank you.” left her lips in a soft voice “We will form a team together.” she added.

such an open willingness to stay strong for others on jane’s youthful face hit like breath knocked from unprepared lungs. while the crack lasted only a moment, chrissy’s smile faltered under the blow. it almost made her sick, between the gasp of reality and the hope and dread mixing uncomfortably in her gut. all jane still had to fight while another universe boiled below the feet of heedless hawkins loomed large behind the glitter still optimistically clinging to chrissy’s lids. 

and chrissy’s only offering was empty hands to hold and a renewed sense of resolve. 

                     ❝ that sounds great. ❞  she cast about in silence for the span of a tenuous inhale, piping up again more gently than before.  ❝ i don’t have powers or....anything much, although i definitely know how to be part of a team. it’s not just you and me either. ❞  warmth poured through the cheerleader’s limbs again in the form of sweet reminders.  ❝ you have your friends, too. you have all of us. not even the worst monsters can do much while we’re all here, right? ❞

( ᵔ◡ᵔ )

                      ❝ i think you’d make a great cheerleader. ❞  chrissy sensed the oncoming blink before it ever surfaced and plunged forward, oddly insistent on her point getting across. she’d envisioned this whole mischievously alluring setup for too long not to lay it out for him. continuously warming air fluttered in puffs at her back, almost like taps that encouraged her to keep going.  ❝ it’s like this: your voice carries without you even trying. you’re really tall and could put cheerleaders on your shoulders. you’re a musician so your rhythm is perfect. and you’re always..... ❞  finally, finally, she could present her own cheeky reference to the first  meeting here at their table, the pièce de résistance. with some pride in the perk of her chin, chrissy cunningham flopped her arms from side to side as wildly as possible without colliding against him or herself or the tabletop below, threatening splinters aplenty if she so much as considered bumping it.  ❝ .....doing that naturally. like you’re always excited! we wouldn’t even have to give you pom-poms. ❞

        ❝  well, it’s not good, but it’s a reason.   ❞             /           @hellmartyr​

                      ❝ they are too good reasons! think about it. you’d be such a hit at pep rallies. ❞   of course she’s kidding. him worming his way onto that court for a rally was more likely than her ever acing french. and she’d tried.

far above, afternoon sunlight grew shy behind passing clouds. chrissy drew herself in tighter, finished with her joking but still wearing a happy grin. summer really was coming despite stubborn chills from an unfinished and bitter spring. she was so grateful. for a safe place like this, namely.  ❝ plus......you’re naturally encouraging. did you know that? that’s probably the most important part about being on the squad. ❞

 💭 nancy chris headcanons

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.

nance and chris used to know each other before high school pulled them apart. not well, per se, but enough to be friendly. there was no great social catacylsm, really, just......being young pulling them every which way. chrissy knew barb from a distance, jonathan from a greater distance, and steve by virtue of....well, steve being steve. nancy had a sweet face and calm demeanor and the bubbly if still somehow quiet chrissy would have liked her quite a bit. and then everything got strange for a few years. life got more full and more complicated in equal measures. reputations got trickier and even though chrissy’s own wasn’t much of a prized trophy, high school drowned out faces more quickly than she would have liked. they could have been better friends if they had the time. at least ‘86 came along to rally everyone around the power of death. or resurrection. or both. they’d progressed nearly to strangers by ‘86 but spun quickly towards dear friendship after so much tragedy. 

chrissy wants to have nancy over to her house so badly. so badly. chrissy pines for a normal family home where friends that she made because other people like her for her and she likes them and feels safe around them can come and feel safe, too. but no, her last sleepover in fifth grade was over before sleep. laura had gotten frustrated about the amount of noise three little girls generated and the snacks they seemed to require. it was abruptly cancelled mid game of twister and mothers were called before they were within two hours of “lights out”.

the cunningham house is a trap and it needs to spring on no one else. all it takes is a few weeks for chrissy to know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that nancy would sniff out just what kind of house chrissy’s was. it’s not the shame of a friend knowing, it’s the shame of a friend having to feel how chrissy does, every day. she apologizes to nancy over and over and over for this. it might have been a small thing to anyone else, but with all that nancy does for chrissy, the gap feels huge. their happy medium likely ends up being long conversations in the cunningham’s driveway. or possibly nancy sneaking into chrissy’s room via climbing the trellis if nancy wants to. there’s mostly yellow and ruffles and pillows everywhere, but there are nice bookshelves and they can hide under a very large comforter and giggle if they feel so inclined. 

chrissy promises to tell nancy absolutely everything if nancy will tell her what happened every year before, starting with discovering upside down. there might be a hundred things they can piece together with the shards of honesty. it’s a lot of work, but chrissy is tired of pretending.

chrissy brings mrs. wheeler a little potted plant whenever she comes over and nancy always gets a nice pen or a purse sized notebook. the two girls are also well documented hair accessory fiends and probably trade clips back and forth and experiment with clip formations. 

their after school summer is full of mystery books and movies. i almost can’t see the two of them not forming some kind of mini book club and filling pages with theoretical notes. there are absolutely lists of worthwhile authors and too-predictable ones. 

why am i getting the feeling they scrapbook? 

the end of summer goodbye to nancy is one of the hardest to make, and likely the goodbye with the most tears. even an extended school year wasn’t enough time to make up for all that they’d missed. 

chrissy writes to nancy while they’re both at college with aggressive dedication. future plans spiral out of control, but chrissy is beginning to feel a fraction of nancy’s drive and it propels her to want more out of life, so chrissy asks for more. and it finally feels good instead of greedy. 

💭 + mementos of childhood

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.

HER FULL SET OF NANCY DREW MYSTERIES. those are precious to her and she keeps them well past adulthood and collects every one for as long as they’re published. 

a whole stack of little diaries with the worst locks of all time as clasps. you know the ones. she never wrote in them regularly and mostly copied passages from books and little poems that she liked in between actual thoughts and doodles. (only when she had good hiding places for her diary did her real thoughts come out.) all the identical cheap metal keys live on a frayed green ribbon necklace that chrissy used to wear “just in case anyone tries to steal my secrets”. 

lisa frank pencils and sticker covered notebooks. she kept a few of her favorite pencils whole and unsharpened and they live in her desk. same with several novelty erasers that have since dried beyond usability, but are just fun to look at.

teeny tiny scrunchies from when she had less hair and her wrists were smaller. their shrunken size doesn’t make them any less sweet and she enjoys keeping track of her favorite colors through the years.

a decorated shoebox full of ribbon bows, with notes and letters from cheer coaches past who always had lovely things to say. 

stuffed at the back of one drawer is the ace bandage from her first cheer injury - a rolled ankle. 

several shoeboxes full of makeshift scrapbook pages she tried throwing together as a little girl that never looked anything except disorganized. but she had a pretty solid eye for color grouping and aesthetic building, all the pages just looked messy. she keeps them as a reminder of how much she’s improved her approach.

then, there’s different boxes filled with victorian style cutouts of animals, angels, hearts, bows, gifts, phrases, and symbols of all kinds that she’s either saved or collects to use for cards. her valentines are stuff of legend. and lace. lots of paper lace. there’s also plastic gems she pried out of costume jewelry that get glued here and there onto the paper designs. more punchy than glitter, and far less messy. 

💭 + waiting

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.

chrissy’s good at it. she’d rather not be. or, more specifically, she is veeeeeeeeery good at biding her time. 

internalizing is nearly her full time profession at this point, so she can keep angst and impatience down like an utter champ, enough that the urge to think about what she’s waiting on all but disappears. distraction is key to this, also. no one is better at keeping busy or looking the furthest thing from lazy. (laura has a different rubric for this but that different rubric could apply to the rest of chrissy’s life already, so it’s rather a moot point.) filling her meantimes to the brim is never a problem. it’s the ache of waiting and wondering, sometimes for something completely unnamed and indefinable, that hurts the most. 

chrissy hadn’t known, but she’d lived her youth waiting, plodding along to achieve each goal her mother set for her. those were bite-sized accomplishments that helped ease the hunger to move on in her life. maybe from hawkins, even if it was only for four years. lasting all the way through high school was a long, long wait and her time needed to be filled so it would fly by. 

up until the nightmares began, chrissy thought the easiest way to survive was to steadily outlast every struggle that showed its grim little face, waiting until it passed. but the nightmares and visions came on too fast and too bloody to wait out. for those she had no plan and no solution, save for opening up to miss kelly. but not even miss kelly could help with every unsettled matter up to that point that still hadn’t dissolved with inattention and patience.

after that, she wasn’t too keen on letting life drift past her anymore. there was much still left to wait on, but even more still to do. things to do immediately, without having to twiddle her thumbs. the most important of which became kicking high school to the curb and setting herself up for a successful college experience far, faaaaar away. 

💭 + what kind of jewelry Chrissy likes to wear most.

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.

small and tasteful. classic and classy. arm her with a pair of diamond studs, pearl studs, a little gold hoop set, and the most subtle dangly earrings with...maybe...a bunch of flowers as the charm and she’ll be set for life earrings wise. if she’s feeling particularly snazzy, either white pearl or yellow or pink pearl studs. studs are her preferred simply because hair gets stuck in them less when she’s flying around during cheer, and don’t often get caught on her clothing. 

necklaces, she goes for gold more than silver. chrissy can pull off both metals equally well but finds herself drawn to gold more for its warmth - and how well it works with her hair. her favorites are long statement necklaces with skinny chains and a statement charm or little ones (like her ‘86 necklace) that twinkle neatly at the base of her neck. a little sparkle is preferred but nothing too eyecatching. or too big. her mother loves chunky statement jewelry and not only are they not chrissy’s style, she just can’t stand the look of the damn things. so ostentatious.

if she ever wears rings it’s one at a time so she can mess with it and nothing that can snag or else her mother will have a mini-fit. but she does enjoy wearing them when she isn’t cheering since they help with nervous energy. weirdly, she gravitates toward silver rings over gold, but has collected a few of both. the silver are another reason she only wears one at a time: so they don’t clash with whatever else she’s wearing. 

bracelets are hit or miss. she tends to go without, sticking to hairbands or scrunchies instead. you’ll sooner find her wearing an anklet during the summer or a friendship/woven/beaded bracelet than anything resembling a bangle.

her little jewelry box at home is chiefly her favorite thin and short chain necklaces with tiny charms, some simple rings, lots of studs, a couple small hoop sets, and one charm bracelet. 

💭 + knitwear

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic

no tweed or wool. out, get them OUT. excuses can be made for wool blends.

there is a reason for this, though: her mother poured her into those abominable twin sets that were thick and scratchy and itchy and hot so many saturdays and sundays of her childhood that chrissy having to look at them at any point again would be too soon. she felt like she was dying in them. like a tiny little business woman just missing a patent leather purse and a hat on her way to an interview at nine years old. 

however, despite not often being very cold, chrissy is a big fan of cable knit and rib knit, the former for sweaters and the latter for shirts. they’re quite cozy and warm without feeling stifling. forgiving of body shape for the most part. fleece is the same way, especially for light jackets. 

she’s got simple taste. flat, smooth, and soft textures are her go-to, so you’ll sooner see her wearing corduroy pants than jeans most days. on fun days big, loose-knit and fluffy layers are what she likes to wrap up in, so as much as she considers her cheer skirt her enemy, the cheer top and cardigan are remarkably pleasant to wear. while she’s not exactly styling herself in oversized clothing there are a lot of loose and flowy elements she prefers. those fits are her go-tos and what she feels the most comfortable in. 

💭 + what she wants the most in life

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic

oh man, this was diiiiificult for chrissy to nail down until midway through high school. laura cunningham had a laundry list of short term and semi long term goals that she wanted chrissy to meet, and as the good daughter chrissy adopted them as her own goals. they weren’t what she wanted, though. 

she first starts thinking about long term to life during junior year. it’s when everyone is clamoring their way through college apps and visiting campuses and collecting patches from universities they like and bragging over where they think they’ll get in. for everyone else, college is a vehicle to thinking about what they’re going to do for the rest of their lives. chrissy knows her vehicle to college will be cheer, but goodness knows she’d rather not do that for the rest of her life. no way she could! teaching cheer, though, that could be something. actually.......

surviving the upside down sends her into a state of mental disarray for weeks afterward as she tries to come to terms with what it means to be peeled from the edge and come away alive. but once the fog lifts, a lot more clarifies in its wake. first, she wants to live. actually live and be happy. she doesn’t want to be miserable. figuring out how to do that is step one. step two is how to earn a living while getting better and becoming happy at the same time. something that helps people. she keeps thinking back to cheer coaching, but more and more layers of that are peeled away and she finds herself thinking about teaching. social studies or history or even math. she’s always been good at math and wonders if there isn’t a way to get a job helping kids learn the most challenging yet the most logical of subjects. problem solving. helping people. helping kids.

chrissy realizes the core of everything while knee deep in college, taking a somewhat ill-advised “elective” psychology course: she wants to stay close to the most difficult ages in youth and keep an eye out for who needs a little extra attention or an offer of help. there’s no time to wonder who could have stopped her from becoming weak enough to fall prey to vecna, but regardless if vecna still lives or not, she’ll be watching. and she’ll be happy. that’s her promise to herself, her greatest desire: to get out of hawkins and find what makes her happy out there. she can’t help others if she can’t see beyond her own discontent. and she’s going to help someone if it’s the last thing she does, starting with herself. 

𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 — send 💭 + a topic to receive a headcanon about said topic.

had chris survived the great vecna-ing of spring ‘86, no doubt she’d be dressing up as sarah from labyrinth.

before ‘86 it was princess leia multiple times, and once she and two little friends dressed up as judy, violet, and doralee from 9 to 5.

happy halloween, everyghoulie!!! I hope you have a great night, whatever you do, and stay safe!

i didn’t mean to let my queue run out but almost as soon as i arrived home from vacation i got real sicc so i had to give myself a break. thankfully the fever burnt this afternoon and after a good night’s sleep i should be back to normal again!

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙈𝙄𝙆𝙀 𝙒𝙃𝙀𝙀𝙇𝙀𝙍                             ( partysheart​ )

@greenscrunchy​ asked:  “don’t  go  in  there,  it’s  haunted!” HALLOWEEN  SENTENCE  STARTERS. | still accepting!

          cutting  through  the  woods  to  save  time  probably  wasn’t  the  brightest  idea,  especially  given  all  the  mishaps  that  seem  to  befall  hawkins,  but  they  were  on  a  time  crunch,  here.  still,  chrissy’s  warning  makes  mike  stop  in  his  tracks,  gaze  turning  back  to  her,  brow  furrowing.

          he  watches  her  for  a  moment,  wondering—briefly—if  she’s  just  fucking  with  him.  though,  on  second  thought,  mike  remembers,  chrissy  isn’t  really  the  type  to  do  that.

          “ what  do  you  mean…? ”

                       ❝ something’s....buzzing. ❞

not much fall chill could properly filter through the hawkins foliage, still thick despite the lateness in the season. nevertheless, wet leaves underneath a steady breeze spread enough brisk air across the ground to multiply goosebumps all across chrissy’s stockinged legs. that, or the pervasive buzz festooning nearby soundwaves with an air of menace. 

                      ❝ it could be nothing except the quiet, but.... ❞  the way she’s unconsciously clutching her sweater sleeves almost to the point of dampness tattles on her unease. ❝ but there’s been a couple stories. about hawkins kids going missing in this part of the woods, near the park. ❞  it’s silly. she’s just being overly jumpy. tense shoulders try to buck away the pricks of fear, probably to dubious effect. her subsequent glance toward mike edges toward pleading. so much has gone wrong in previous years that even the smallest notion of mike getting wrapped up in trouble again tastes too bitter to swallow.   ❝ even if it’s just electricity, like power lines, maybe don’t go that way? we can run along the normal path  -  i’m fast. ❞

i love you chrissy cunningham, i love you determination to smile for everyone else, i love you cheerleader personality, i love you soft edges and quiet voice, i love you not jumping to overt conclusions, i love you not quick to judge because you don’t know what happens behind other closed doors because you keep your own door tightly shut, i love you queen of hawkins high who doesn’t alienate because of social standing, i love you never treating people the way her mother treats her because she knows how bad it feels, i love you girly girl who would rather wear pants, i love you dedicated sportswoman, i love you mommy issues, i love you girl who desperately didn’t want to go crazy and didn’t want to die, i love you girl who tried to get help even if it was too late, i love you eager to laugh, i love you making other people feel noticed, i love you wanting to focus on other things instead of being unhappy, i love you girl willing to sacrifice her time for others, i love you girl who wanted to manage and survive on her own, i love you girl who snapped at max and regretted it later and would have apologized, i love you girl whose favorite flavors are watermelon and peach, i love you girl who can’t decide if her favorite color is orange or pink, i love you yellow bedroom with rattan furniture, i love you never making social threats, i love you light makeup hand, i love you damaged soul, i love you exhausted mind, i love you girl who would rather be free than go apeshit, i love you anger that’s painful and unpleasant, i love you summertime sadness, i love you mom friend, i love you detail oriented, i love you sticker covered notebook, i love you dreamy romantic, i love you pencils not pens, i love you warm heart, i love you fearful daughter, i love you hesitant with pda, i love you trendy bangs, i love you struggles with self worth, i love you struggles with self image, i love you desperate to be whole and happy, i love you chrissy cunningham.

I’m fed up with you and the way that you do

I used to love you, now I change my mind

and I’m fed up with you feeding me a line

Strength is light ☀

&. 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.

(  various  non - halloween  themed  dialogue  prompts  for  all  your  slashers,  final  girls,  and  other  horrors  beyond  your  comprehension.  trigger  warning  for  dark  themes.  feel  free  to  edit  as  you  seem  fit.  ) 

❛ it’s the silence that scares me. ❜

❛ i’m every nightmare you ever had. ❜

❛ i want to see your true face. ❜

❛ one way or another, you’re going to die tonight. ❜

❛ just because you don’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not already here. ❜

❛ by the time anyone finds your body, they won’t be able to identify it. ❜

❛ you’re playing a dangerous game here, girl. ❜

❛ i’m playing the villain, just like you wanted. ❜

❛ i won’t give up on you, i know you’re worth it! ❜

❛ scream all you want. no one will hear you. ❜

❛ what are you going to do to me? ❜

❛ there you are, my darling! ❜

❛ i knew you would come back to me. ❜

❛ don’t you want to be consumed by what loves you? ❜

❛ i’m going to send you back to hell where you came from! ❜

❛ you can’t keep me here forever! ❜

❛ how are you still alive? i killed you! ❜

❛ sometimes human spaces make inhuman monsters. ❜

❛ please. why don’t you just let me go? ❜

❛ this missing poster has your face on it. ❜

❛ that wasn’t so bad, was it? ❜

❛ what’s wrong, you don’t trust me? ❜

❛ i know a lot about you. more than you think. ❜

❛ you want me to shut him up for you? ❜

❛ we could have been beautiful together. ❜

❛ when you think you’re alone, someone watches. ❜

❛ rest while you can, because i will hunt you and eat you whole. ❜

❛ what you want is very wrong. ❜

❛ you look so pretty all tied up like this. ❜

❛ what, you like to watch? you goddamn sicko. ❜

❛ god isn’t here. god doesn’t even know about this place. ❜

❛ there is something at work in my soul which i do not understand. ❜

❛ i am the devil, and i am here to do the devil’s work. ❜

❛ you know what they say, an eye for an eye. ❜

❛ why don’t you scream for me? ❜

❛ are you… smelling me? ❜

❛ we’re going to die out here. ❜

❛ i’m not afraid of anything. not anymore. ❜

❛ we will be what everyone wants to be. perfect. ❜

❛ no offense, but i think you might be just a little too crazy for me. ❜

❛ we all go a little mad sometimes. ❜

❛ the harder i try to escape, the further i get into this awful place. ❜

❛ this was not how it was supposed to go! ❜

❛ this is the end of your little game. i win. ❜

❛ don’t leave me! i can’t be alone! ❜

❛ no one is coming for you. ❜

❛ you hide. and i’ll try to find you. sound fun? ❜

❛ fuck this place. seriously, just fuck this place. ❜

❛ what’s the matter, honey? you’ve barely touched your dinner. ❜

❛ don’t be afraid. dying is much easier than living. ❜

❛ i won’t let them kill you. i won’t let them even touch you. ❜

❛ let’s get you some clothes before i get too turned on. ❜

❛ you weren’t putting that tongue to use anyway. ❜

❛ shall i drink your blood fresh, or slice your neck and spill it out first? ❜

❛ dying keeps moving lower on the list of worst things that could happen to me. ❜

 𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙇𝙄𝙇𝙇𝙔                         ( asteritm )​

❛ hey! ❜     the door slams shut on her car with a little extra force than is necessary, but it’s beginning to look more and more like @greenscrunchy​ might need a little backup. most teenage boys are terrors, and she’s never been one to overlook a suspicious situation.     ❛ i just dropped my brother off and i gotta take these boxes to the gym to set up for a class. ❜     smiling sharply at the small group, she moves smoothly to intercept anyone getting closer to the young woman, protective and unafraid. putting her back between the boys and chrissy, she gestures towards her car with a question in her eyes. are you okay? are you safe?     ❛ do you have a second to help? i’m sure the boys have other things to do with their time, unless they’re with you. ❜           / sc.

high school was a wide open maw to hell from the outset. though, what had been infinitely more unsettling was the ease with which the teens of hawkins took to the new horrors like ducks to water. there was nothing like being a high-school mired teen to either straighten you out or send your wheels spinning. chrissy’s personal education hell was only relative. school was better than home but worse than peace and quiet or the company of a few of her squadmates, but still plenty survivable even when a solid third of the basketball team corners her in a bid to get some insight on jason’s plans for the upcoming semi-final game. just the same as weeks before, she has nothing to tell them, and same as before they can’t find it in themselves to believe her insistence that jason doesn’t even tell her what he’s and their coach are planning. whenever lucas sinclair and his kind freshman eyes aren’t present, the dogging gets a little more intense and a good deal less polite. then the wham of a station wagon door actually gives them a start. chrissy is primed for relief when lilly’s voice dances sharply through the air on the wings of irritation. a waterfall of brunette curls is a blessed sight when chrissy finally turns her back on the boys and skitters toward the young woman on light feet. 

                       ❝ yeah, of course i can help! ❞  hands are empty save for the eagerness to grab something and hold on, just for the small sense of firm reality it offers. chrissy grabs the nearest box from lilly’s backseat and hoists it to her waist.  ❝ and thanks. for back there. it's fine....they just like to try interrogating me every few weeks about their captain’s new plays. i can’t convince them that i know as much as they do. even girlfriends don’t get privileges, i guess. ❞

Tell me how do I know that i’m alive...!!!!

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