Greenscrunchy - 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐔𝐒

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙈𝙄𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙀𝙇 𝙀𝙈𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉                       (comicbookcreature​)

“  I  DUNNO !  i  read  it  in  a  poem  or  off  a  cereal  box  or  something - “

“ KINDA CHEESY, HUH ?? “ 

@greenscrunchy​  ( starter call ! ) ​

                   ❝ not at all! poetry could sound exciting no matter where you found it. ❞   she’d draw the line at bathroom stall graffiti but even the plainest word choice, in the right order, could give a name to a feeling that felt undiscoverable a moment before. chrissy had always envied that ability, to make simple letters into art.   ❝ .....what cereal, though? ❞

 — To the Young Who Want to Die, Gwendolyn Brooks  

[ text ID: Graves grow no green that you can use. / Remember, green’s your color. / You are Spring. ]

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

City of the Living Dead (1980) dir. Lucio Fulci

𝚍𝚊𝚏𝚏𝚘𝚍𝚒𝚕  +  𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐  𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑  𝚑𝚎𝚛  𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜  .

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.

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​

steve's car window was mercifully cool where chrissy's forehead pressed against it. faint radio sounds and the benign chill were suitable distractions from the aura of pure discomfort steve was radiating as he drove. chrissy herself was radiating plenty back. unpleasant as the environment was becoming she still felt free to curl into a lumpy ball, unjudged.

the former king of hawkins high really did wear his heart on his sleeve; every time he let it gleam a little from the corner of his eye, the cheerleader wished again that they didn't have to be here. or, more accurately, that what brought them to exactly this place wasn't almost dying (perishing then resurrecting from the actual dead, to be specific).

but considering the unavoidable turn chrissy cunningham's life was about to take, maybe death was the only thing that could have brought her to this brink.

the metal strip of car door her skin rested on grew warm. too warm. her thoughts raced just as fast as the molecules she imagined beginning to vibrate within the metal. no matter that "scary" paled in comparison to surviving the upside down and clambering out to a town in complete ruins, real life still frightened her. laura cunningham still scared her. and that was precisely why, when they arrived to their destination, steve harrington was keeping his ass right where it was. he'd hate it, but chrissy refused to allow any more collateral damage in her wake. eddie munson's death was one too many already.

mindlessly, teeth began nibbling on the loose layer of skin on her lips, still so dry after the week in the hospital. don't forget chapstick.

then steve managed at last to say the thing he'd been working at for long minutes and a stop sign or two. she'd have given him a smile if she could. the answer was still no, though. gentlemanly respect and acts of service aside, steve couldn't actually help her face her mom: the entire reason he was driving her home. this was her hurdle to leap and hers alone.

❝ i know what you're doing, steve. ❞ how come her voice could give away so much? wasn't she better at masking by now? even to her own ears she sounded exhausted and pathetic and there was no way steve would miss it. ❝ i have to do this myself. it's really not about carrying worldly possessions down the stairs, even though i wish it was. ❞  

long before they pulled out of his driveway, chrissy had made and memorized a list of the items she'd want to keep and kept it short. seven books. the stuffed sheep and pink bear on her bed. any clothes she'd bought with her own money that fit in her biggest duffle bag. her diaries and her bible with the pretty crocheted case. makeup. any jewelry from her dad. one purse. every part of her thanked her past self for putting her backpack and wallet in her locker before the drive to forest hills, so that wouldn't be a problem.

❝ as stupid as it sounds, i need her to....be like she would. without someone like you watching. i have to remember why i'm leaving or else i might have second thoughts. you know what i mean? ❞  

@greenscrunchy brought back-up this time...

There was an urge to drum his fingers on the steering wheel of the BMW as he drove that he masked by keeping the beat of the music that he'd turned down, but not off, to hide the silence without making it impossible to talk. They weren't speaking much, so it didn't really seem to matter how loud the music was, but it wasn't for lack of a topic. Chrissy was in the passenger seat, and if he had to guess, she was far more anxious than he was, but that really wasn't helping how he was feeling about the whole thing. He'd agreed to this, but he didn't have to like all of the steps.

There was a beat where his lips parted, a breath drawn to speak before he aborted the attempt, murmuring some of the song lyrics seemingly absently as he paused at a stop sign to wait for a truck to go and then continued. It didn't require as much concentration as all that, but the things he wanted to say did - he gave her a sidelong glance, trying to gauge how she was doing. "Soooo, I've been thinking about it, and I get that this is a thing and you wanna do this yourself and I respect that," he said, adding the last part quickly so it absolutely was not in question before he glanced her way again. "But that doesn't mean you have to carry all your stuff on your own. I could help with that, just keep quiet and carry everything for you."

If he sounded a little hopeful, he could hardly be blamed. They'd all proven time and again that their biggest strengths came from being together, so it made sense that it would apply here and now, as well.

“ it’s right between ‘ouch’ & ‘boing.’ “               /              @quietresistance​

not bursting into chuckles felt out of the question. the word choice, so far-flung yet oddly specific, captured chrissy’s fascination in an instant. how obvious, in retrospect, that a reporter would have a grip on language so unrelenting that they could make words dance in patterns more complicated than any cheer or ballet routine. chrissy crushed her brows together, an image of pure concentration, already sensing herself slipping down a rabbit hole of wondering if she’d ever experienced something in parallel. 

certainly chrissy’d had her fair share of ouch. perhaps the reporter’s wordsmithing magic had seeped into the stale hawkins general hospital air, because that simple sound, ouch, was beginning to take a thousand shapes inspired by eighteen short years of near constant physical activity. come to think of it, there was a surfeit of boings, too. before the events of a week and a half ago, chrissy hadn’t known the breadth of disasters it was possible to bounce back from, or that she could survive so many in a row, even just barely. 

right... a week and a half ago. the upside down and the earthquake. likely the whole reason the reporter had come. and she was the whole reason chrissy had asked how it felt to be a woman with a pen in a business so full of men. somewhere in between painful and disorienting. bruising and frustrating. difficult, but so, so interesting. 

                        ❝ i haven’t read any newspapers or news stories that sounded half as creative as what you just said. hopefully when by the time you finish your hawkins story, everyone will take you twice as serious. ❞   a blush pink, chipped-polish painted fingernail found a snag in the rough hospital blanket. chrissy paused.   ❝ but you still must be trusted a lot if you’re here, to try and make sense of....everything. ❞