Reblog This To Give The Person You Reblogged This From A Gold Star Because They’ve Been Stellar Today

💭 + 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. 

𝔻𝔼𝔸ℝ 𝔸𝕊ℍ𝕋𝕆ℕ 𝔽𝕆𝕎𝕃𝔼ℝ                                     (blueminke​)

@greenscrunchy​  asked:   “ i’ve been having weird dreams. i wondered if maybe the right album would help. “   /   chrissy to ashton   !

HE WASN’T THE BIGGEST FAN of the black and blue uniform that he was required to wear at the record store. It’s no secret that he’d rather be in his leather jacket - and if you ask him, that’s still a perfect fit for selling music. However, he desperately needs to keep this job, so… uniform it is. There’s a little chime at the door as she enters, which is what first grabs his attention - and then he sees just who is stopping by, which truly is the catalyst that has him approaching her. While the two weren’t very close, OF COURSE he knew the face of Chrissy Cunningham. Hell, he’d recognize most of the Hawkins faces, but hers… has him grinning as he slides his hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “It usually works for me - and that’s not a sales pitch, it’s just the truth.” Words are interrupted by a light laugh. “You want somethin’ relaxing or that kind of music that just makes you let it all out?”

chrissy had been trying a different approach to small talk lately, at the behest of ms. kelly: even when admitting the entirety of how she felt seemed dangerous, hiding just a little bit of honesty here and there would lighten the load of keeping up appearances. ms. kelly promised others wouldn’t show her their backs so quickly if chrissy just gave it a go. so this was her giving it a go. with the guy at the record store. and it....worked? 

                         ❝ yeah? ❞  if consolation were a lipstick shade, she’d be wearing it. her smile stretched beyond the measurements of conversational to something appreciative. thankful. status as the perennially bright face of school spirit aside, the square footage of the high school appeared paltry in comparison to the places chrissy wanted to be cheerful just because. if she’s lucky, maybe the pleasant feeling she’d grasped would follow her outside into the clean air. because of music. she could talk about music. there’s more than enough material here and if his nameplate is to be believed, “ashton” actually has some salient thoughts on the topic.  ❝ i like options, ❞  the array of which is probably in the hundreds; it’s exciting. if this works, she’s going to sail into the land of nod quicker than a blink. at least, quicker than she had been.  ❝ maybe one record to dance to, and then one with lots of instruments?  ❞

𝘿𝙀𝘼𝙍 𝙏𝙄𝙉𝘼 𝙎𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍𝙎                        ( @tinasparty​ )

greenscrunchy asked: ❝ you start to believe all the things they say. that this place is cursed. ❞   stranger things 4 : accepting !

        TINA  DOESN’T  EVEN  NEED  THE  RUMORS  to  know  there’s  something  wrong  with  hawkins;  she  can  feel  the  darkness  in  the  air,  SENSING  it.  people  go  missing  or  succumb  to  fates  so  nightmarish  it  can’t  be  natural  and  she  notices.  “trust  me…  i  believe  it.  i  believe  everything.”  and  the  reason  tina  knows  too  much  is  because  of  the  visions  conjured  by  her  mind’s  eye,  the  psychic  trait  no  one  knows  about  her.  “and  i  don’t  have  a  good  feeling  about  this…  it’s  not  over  yet,”  she  speaks  cryptically,  though  she  can  tell  chrissy  understands  exactly  what  she’s  trying  to  say.  there’s  none  of  her  typical  flirtation  in  her  smile,  the  charming  attitude  she  carries  herself  with  absent  this  time  as  she  feels  the  weight  of  what  chrissy  says.  it’s  true,  and  there’s  a  wistful  and  almost  melancholic  look  swimming  in  mocha  eyes.  “i’m  just…  so  worried.  about  everyone,  you  know?”  it  haunts  her  late  at  night,  keeping  her  wired  and  even  casting  shadows  and  chilling,  premonitory  scenes  into  her  dreams:  who’s  next?

                  ❝ yeah.... i do know. ❞  hard not to fret when the wheel of hawkins’ internal disaster compass keeps spinning without offering any useful sense of direction and there’s no magnetic field of realistic explanations to keep it grounded. even with all that proof that proves nothing but the worst, chrissy still feels a lump of stress unravel partway when tina needs no additional detail to keep talking. just a hint at what’s been bothering everyone their age lately set her off enough. it means chrissy isn’t alone. 

midway up the bleachers that used to drive chrissy crazy, the ones parked right next to the pathway leading towards the middle school, she’s realizing how useful they are. the breeze seems to whisk away any words they utter too loudly, leaving them safe in their windy little bubble. good, because chrissy doesn’t want everyone in the yard to hear this next part.   

                 ❝ how come it’s just some of us, though, and not the adults? like, this rally we’re supposed to have in a couple weeks. it wasn’t the squad’s idea, or our coach’s, it was principle higgins’. a rally isn’t going to make us feel better when our friends kept dying all summer. i’m ready for it to stop. but instead of being able to do anything we’re just at school. and that’s it. ❞

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

💭 + 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. 

chrissy + dustin content <3

it's okay. it's over now. they won't hurt you again.     /     @wolfvirago​​

the deathly silent, yet piercing klaxon ring of panic was still racing through chrissy’s every vein and nerve. once upon a time, she used to think she understood pain. on the inside where secrets festered like ulcers, dirty, hidden things that she never dared give volume to, detectable by even to the kindest of eyes. on the outside, where exhaustion’s strains warred against endurance, her body warping to the airborne twists of cheerleading, the rippling jar through her tendons when a landing skewed wrong. 

this pain.... it touched places inside that chrissy never knew she possessed. 

no clocks chimed in any place but her sanguine-dyed memories. no slithering vines attached to a more sophisticated, crueler will. the hollow in the tree trunk she’d huddled against was not molded to the shape of her form crumpled and tortured by the supernatural. nothing touched her but the warming air of early summer trapped close to the ground by moss and pine needles, and the soft-spoken breath of the older girl. 

through it all, the skies had the audacity to be blue. blue like the day in march that she broke. and chrissy wept quietly. 

                     ❝  you can know that? how can you know that?  ❞  

whispered doubt thought it was, chrissy could not manage to hide the layers of unbelief still left despite witnessing a thousand impossibilities. impossible until the beginning of spring break. ( and years before that according to rumours that could very well be total truths for all the cheerleader knew, now. ) among all the strange she was asked to believe, what remained unacceptable was assurance unasked for, unearned. 

help was an allergy. no acceptance without resistance. years of shying gradually away from hands that might stretch in her direction had not released their hold. the upside down had changed chrissy cunningham to her core, but it had not reversed everything.

what she was hearing......there was no way it could be as true as the jut of dry bark against her side. could it? 

                    ❝  the things that are in my head.... i don’t think they can come out. no one has to do anything to me for it to still hurt.  ❞

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 )

Sweet smell of summer 🌼