[ghostsofhawkins]

#𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 an independent & selective portrayal of 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑, a hawkins native original character set in the Stranger Things universe, established 5/2026. cherished by nicole ( 20+, she / her ), minors dni, crossover verses welcomed & encouraged. mature themes & spoilers ahead. combined with verses from THE ORIGINALS. THE VAMPIRE DIARIES. SCREAM. CRIMINAL MINDS and more.

a study in : surviving things no one talks about, grief that turns obsessive, girls who notice too much for their own good, small town secrets festering beneath polite smiles, loyalty sharpened into something dangerous, bruised knuckles and flashlight beams cutting through the dark, recklessness disguised as bravery, and the terrifying realization that once you see the truth, you can never look away again.

about. rules. memes. headcanons. deena.

[ghostsofhawkins]

so i'm new around here & i want to make sure i'm following roleplay etiquette. tell me, are my posts too long? like, do i need to put them under *read mores* to spare the dash when they get a certain length?

[hawkinsown]

❛ jesus, deena– ❜ he breathes out, his voice rising now. steve refuses to continue this narrative any further. it's clear as day there's some sort of judgement here, or so he feels by the way she looks at him moments after he had his brief meltdown. "which is it?" his heart races up to his throat and he drags his feet as he turns away from her, holding both arms over his head as the tension is drawn tighter. ❛ everyone was gone by then! it was just us. ❜ us being him, tommy h, carol, nancy, and ... he tries to tame the rising irritation that moments ago he'd placated. now it seems to start to simmer again, ready to boil up and burn his skin. he lets out a breath, working to hold back from saying more things that he'll regret the second they come out of his mouth.

where she sees contradiction, he sees aggressive misunderstanding. that, and hooked around its arm is its close friend, passive judgement. steve doesn't know much about deena, frankly, but the manner in which she's regarding his intentions is making it incredibly difficult to hear what she's saying over the whir in his ears. where she sees bruised ego, he sees a breach of privacy towards the girl he's actually starting to have feelings for. and sure, while two things can be true at the same time, and he is known for the dramatics of his hubris – he's starting to feel like he can't see the big picture here because of what deena thinks of him.

he can't continue on if she continues to make these ridiculous conclusions on his character, and steve starts to feel the same feeling he feels with every other conflict. he starts to look for an exit door. 3 minutes in heaven. he scoffs loudly at that – now she's twisted the knife in his vanity. he turns to her and with two quick strides is reaching for the photograph from her fingers. rather than object, though, he gives the photo a good long look. he feels the excuses rise in his throat, something that he can offer to placate the confusion so they can be on their merry way with it all. so he can go back to ignoring her critical eye and never speak again on it.

the plastic shakes beneath his hands and his narrowed eyes can't seem to make out even the likeness of what he's looking at behind barb's silhouette. teeth catch a hangnail on his thumb, ripping the skin. ❛ some photographer... don't quit your day job i guess, ❜ he remarks under his breath at the blurred shapes. steve taps his knuckle on the photograph and looks up at deena. ❛ this look like a photo taken from someone who's at my party? clearly the freak was out in the woods. ❜ he shakes his head slowly, but stops at a sharp realization as he stares at the photograph.

you'd think at this point he'd give attention to what she's so desperately trying to reach him with -– that this is extremely unusual and concerning. you'd think. instead, steve's eyes are wide when he looks back up – just not out of concern for what she's been trying to show him. ❛ did he take... more? ❜ hey, it could mean he's asking for more evidence of this... thing. it's not. steve runs his finger over the photo and tilts his head, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. ❛ how'd you even get this? ❜ he's asking all the wrong questions here, and surely isn't helping with this preconceived notion that he's this dumbass jock that doesn't care about anyone but himself. 〚 what was that about two things existing at the same time? 〛 steve tosses the photograph back, and shakes his head again.

❛ i don't know why you're showing me this. ❜ he falls back to apathy as a safe-net, gesturing her way with a sigh as his hands now go on his hips. ❛ it's nice that we both can agree that the freak is a freak, but clearly you're not willing to listen to me when i say i know absolutely nothing. and clearly you think so low of me that it's impossible to believe you came here for help, or direction, o–or ... ❜ steve's eyes are dull as he tosses up a hand, relentlessly submitting to whatever she thinks of him. ❛ i'll give you this: that's fucking weird. ❜ he points to the photo and furrows his eyebrows. ❛ but if jonathan took it, and he's strange enough to take photos of his classmates from some hiding spot in the woods, maybe he knows something about this shit. ❜ the spot at his nail is bleeding now from where he'd torn the skin, but steve doesn't pay mind to it.

now it's his turn to ask: ❛ so... what is it? – why are you here, showing me this? ❜ he tilts his head again and blinks. ❛ you've made it clear enough you seem to understand everything about me – down to how long i last – which is a very weird thing to say, by the way. ❜

[ghostsofhawkins]

deena watches him for a long moment. really watches him. the pacing, the frustration, the bleeding thumb, the way he keeps latching onto the wrong part of the conversation like a dog with a shoe. for weeks she's imagined this moment differently. imagined confessions, excuses, lies. imagined catching him in something. but standing here now, listening to him spiral about jonathan byers instead of whatever is standing behind barb in that photograph, she arrives at a conclusion she doesn't particularly enjoy.

he's telling the truth.

or at least as much of it as he has.

the realization settles uneasily beneath her ribs. not because it clears him, but because it doesn't. it simply leaves them both standing in the same place : confused, frustrated, staring at a puzzle neither of them can solve.

❛ okay. ❜ the word comes quieter this time. not soft. just tired.

green eyes drift toward the photograph still trapped between his fingers before lifting back toward him.

❛ i believe you. ❜ the admission feels strange leaving her mouth. almost foreign.

❛ honestly, if you knew something, i think you would've accidentally blurted it out twenty minutes ago. probably while yelling. ❜ the corner of her mouth twitches despite herself. only briefly. her attention returns to the photograph. barb sitting by the pool. the shape standing behind her. the one thing that keeps dragging her back every time she tries to sleep.

❛ so let's stop talking about jonathan for a second. ❜ she steps closer, tapping a finger against the photograph.

❛ look at it. really look at it. does any part of that seem familiar to you? the height, the build, anything. because right now i'm stuck between two possibilities. either that's somebody you know, which means we're looking at a person. or it isn't. ❜ her jaw tightens slightly.

❛ and if it isn't, i think that's a whole lot worse. ❜ wind drifts through the parking lot. somewhere nearby a car passes. life continuing around them while barb remains frozen forever inside a photograph. deena folds her arms loosely across her chest. she didn't like that thought or the way it kept slipping around the inside of her brain.

❛ because here's the thing, harrington. if jonathan managed to wander around your property all night taking pictures without anybody noticing, then i don't actually know how useful it is asking who was at your party. ❜ there's no real bite behind it now. just dry observation.

❛ apparently attendance was being monitored by the honor system. ❜ her eyes flick toward him.

❛ seriously. you didn't know byers was there. if somebody else was lurking around, why are you so sure they weren't? friend of a friend? somebody tommy invited? somebody carol knew? somebody who'd been there before? ❜ the questions pile up because that's all she has anymore. questions.

❛ i'm not trying to be an asshole. i'm trying to figure out why somebody was standing behind barb. ❜ a pause. ❛ and more importantly, whether they were there for her. ❜

the thought lingers between them. ugly. uncomfortable. because if they weren't there for barb, then who were they there for? her gaze drifts toward the ground for a moment before lifting again.

❛ has nancy said anything? ❜ the question comes suddenly.

❛ anything weird. anything she remembers. anything she's noticed since barb disappeared. because unless she's developed a sudden passion for minding her own business, i have a hard time believing she's completely dropped this. ❜ and then another thought surfaces. one she's been chewing on longer than she'd care to admit.

❛ and what happened with tommy and carol? ❜ her head tilts slightly. ❛ because you guys used to move around like some kind of weird blonde cult. now every time i see you in the same hallway somebody looks seconds away from throwing a punch. ❜ the joke lands lightly, but the question remains.

❛ i'm just wondering if something changed after that night. because right now i'm looking for patterns anywhere i can find them. ❜ the photograph shifts in her hand when he gives it back. her thumb brushes over barb's frozen smile.

❛ i'm gonna talk to byers. ❜ matter-of-fact. already decided. ❛ because whether he's a creep or not, he's the one person who's actually handed me something. ❜ green eyes lift toward steve again. steady. measuring.

❛ but if i'm being honest? i'm starting to think barb and will byers might be connected. ❜

it sounds ridiculous spoken aloud. completely insane. which unfortunately means she can't stop thinking about it.

❛ two people disappear. same town. same week. no witnesses. no answers. no bodies. ❜ a small shrug follows.

❛ either hawkins has the worst luck in america, or we're all asking the wrong questions. ❜ for the first time since this conversation started, she isn't looking at him like a suspect. she's looking at him like somebody who was there. somebody who might actually help.

❛ so if you're done planning jonathan byers' murder, i'd really appreciate a second set of eyes. ❜ the corner of her mouth lifts faintly.

❛ help me figure this out & .... i'll show you the rest of the roll. ❜ her expression remains frustratingly neutral. ❛ consider it a professional courtesy. ❜ a beat.

❛ also, if i'm being honest, watching your blood pressure spike every time jonathan byers gets mentioned has become one of my favorite hobbies. ❜

[ghostsofhawkins]

DRUID

You’re a thoughtful and reflective person who cares a lot about the natural world. You’re generally open-minded and non-judgmental, though there are some beliefs or opinions that you won’t be swayed from. You’re in-tune with your intuition and you know yourself pretty well. You may spend a lot of time in your head, observing the world and thinking about what you’ve observed. You seek peace, balance, and try to avoid confrontation unless absolutely necessary.

(Bard College): WHISPERS

The College of Whispers teaches its students that they are wolves among sheep. These bards use their knowledge and magic to uncover secrets and turn them against others through extortion and threats. You’re not the loudest or most outgoing person, but you know how to use your words with precision and efficiency when it matters most. You’re a pro at keeping secrets and some people might find it hard to get to know the real you under your reserved exterior. You know that knowledge is power and you guard it carefully, saving it for the right moment. You might come across as intimidating or edgy, but you also know how to play nice with others when you need to.

tagged by: @sleuthscreams (lovely creature). tagging: @feartreat @unbrave @oddsfavorcd @hawkinsown @bennettdiaries

[zoomingupthathill]

[]Make a deal with God.... Indie Selective Maxine Mayfield from Netflix's Stranger Things Bee est. 2022

Credit : @jjcre8

[ghostsofhawkins]

my, my those eyes like fire.

#𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 an independent & selective portrayal of 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑, a hawkins native original character set in the Stranger Things universe, established 5/2026. cherished by nicole ( 20+, she / her ), minors dni, crossover verses welcomed & encouraged. mature themes & spoilers ahead. combined with verses from THE ORIGINALS. THE VAMPIRE DIARIES. SCREAM. CRIMINAL MINDS and more.

[hawkinsown]

for a moment, his eyes remain set on the photograph deena presents to him. he doesn't take it in his own hands, but rather stills as he feels himself shift. and it's so abrupt it nearly gives him whiplash. one moment they're talking about barb, and guilt, and responsibility... all the things he's avoiding thinking about. and now– jonathan fucking byers. ❛ wait. ❜ the word escapes flatly. his fingers press into his elbows where his arms are crossed. ❛ byers was at my party? ❜ he drops back down to look at the photograph, scoffing in disbelief as it sours quickly into irritation. it nearly instantly shifts into anger. hot, immediate anger. the kind that's comfortable, in a backwards way. because he can feel guilt; but it's more slippery. anger is solid. tangible.

he swallows. ❛ you're telling me that freak was hiding around my house taking pictures of us?! ❜ his head jerks upward, a piece of hair knocking loose over his forehead with the movement. ❛ you can't be serious. ❜ the image still seems to pull his attention towards it, despite the way he's now trying to conceal the seething feeling rising from his skin. he sees barb sitting alone by the pool, and behind her– and that figure... steve forces his gaze away from it. because he can't focus on what's clearly more important with this looming idea that someone had basically been spying on them all night.

and all at once, it feels like the conversation is tilted sideways. whatever uncomfortable understanding of guilt and responsibility that they'd reached, enough for deena to switch things up and show him the photograph, gets shoved aside by this exponentially-rising anger. he was taking fucking pictures of them. his shoulders are rising again, his heartbeat picking up. he's suddenly replaying that night entirely differently, not around barb or the pool or whatever it is deena seems so focused on about the picture. he thinks of nancy, of them upstairs. the fact that there was some creep outside taking pictures all night, at the exact moment barb was down by the pool by herself.

❛ that's psychotic, ❜ he says with wide eyes, brewing with rage. steve runs a hand over his mouth, clapping his arms around his shoulders to try to conceal it. he paces half a step. ❛ fucking psychotic! ❜ he almost forgets she's standing there, why she's showing him this in the first place. because whatever the fuck that shadow was in the background of the photo, it makes absolutely no sense. and what does make sense is the fact that jonathan byers was there, encroaching on something so incredibly private and personal that it makes his blood boil even more.

steve throws a hand into his pocket, balled up into a fist but clearly trying to suppress himself. his voice falters, and he's surprised he's doing the opposite of shouting here. ❛ nobody thought to mention this before now? ❜ he asks. ❛ you've been acting this whole time like i'm hiding something – meanwhile jonathan byers is apparently some peeping tom outside my house taking pictures and nobody thinks that's weird?! ❜ it's something he understands, something normal to be angry about, and his eyes fall back toward the photograph as he returns to face deena.

through his narrowed vision, he sees barb, and the thing standing behind her. the frustration falters for a second, enough for him to see how alone she is. the observation makes his throat tighten and 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊! 𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐲! for the first time, he recalls barb not as the quiet girl from the missing posters, but as she had looked that night. awkward and out of place. waiting for her friend, who had been dragged upstairs by the popular guy known for being a womanizer and nothing else. he breathes heavily through his nose, his hands now in his hair, then dragging down his face. what other photos had he taken? ❛ i'm gonna kill byers. ❜

[ghostsofhawkins]

deena stares at him for exactly three seconds.

then four.

then five.

somewhere around six she has to physically press her lips together to stop herself from laughing. not because any of this is funny. god knows none of it is funny. but because the universe occasionally presents opportunities so perfectly constructed that all you can really do is stand there & admire the craftsmanship.

❛ wow. ❜

the word leaves her slowly. carefully. like she's approaching a wounded animal.

❛ okay, so just to make sure i'm understanding correctly ... ❜ green eyes flick toward the photograph still trapped between them.

❛ barb holland is missing. there's a mystery shadow standing behind her. possibly the last person to see her alive. maybe the only lead anybody has. ❜ a beat. ❛ and your main takeaway is jonathan byers hurt your feelings... ❜

there it is. the laugh finally escapes. small. disbelieving. the kind that arrives when reality becomes slightly too absurd to process normally. hawkins has always been a strange town. apparently steve harrington is stranger.

❛ harrington, i have spent the last twenty minutes listening to you explain how you couldn't possibly know who was at your party. ❜ her eyebrows lift. ❛ now suddenly you're shocked somebody was at your party. ❜ the contradiction hangs there. fat. ugly. impossible to ignore. wind drifts between them. the photograph trembles slightly between her fingers.

❛ which is it? ❜ she tilts her head.

❛ because from where i'm standing, the boogeyman could've walked through your front door carrying a welcome basket & you would've been too busy upstairs to notice. ❜ the joke lands dry. mean. mostly true. her gaze drifts back toward the photograph. toward barb. toward the shape standing behind her. the thing that keeps pulling at the edges of her thoughts like fishhooks buried beneath skin.

❛ and for the record? ❜ softer now. not kinder. just quieter. ❛ i do think it's weird. ❜ a shrug follows. ❛ creepy, invasive, probably illegal. pick your favorite adjective. ❜ she has never particularly liked jonathan byers. he walks around like somebody expecting the world to hit him. which usually makes people overlook the fact he's staring back.

❛ but i don't care about jonathan right now, or your 3 minutes in heaven with nancy wheeler. ❜ the words arrive bluntly. immediate. a knife placed carefully on a table. ❛ i care that barb disappeared. ❜ silence settles again. heavy. humid. alive. for a moment her eyes linger on the photograph. on that impossible silhouette. that wrongness. that shape which refuses to become anything recognizable no matter how many sleepless nights she spends staring at it.

❛ you wanna know what keeps bothering me? ❜ her voice drops lower. ❛ jonathan wasn't supposed to be there. ❜ green eyes lift toward him. ❛ but neither was that thing. ❜ the parking lot suddenly feels colder. the air thicker. like something unseen has wandered too close.

❛ that's the part i can't stop thinking about. ❜ her fingers tighten around the photograph.

❛ because if jonathan managed to catch it by accident... ❜ a pause. small. dangerous.

❛ then what the hell was it doing there in the first place? ❜

[ghostsofhawkins]

you can always tell when deena is going to say something inappropriate because she always starts with "wow...."

[aestheticcc-blog]

[ghostsofhawkins]

*we were literally just girls.

[ghostsofhawkins]

*new icon, new coloring/psd, new pinned image, & updated color for theme. eventually i'll be posting my first promo, some new headcanons and some new graphics i made. fingers crossed they don't suck

[ghostsofhawkins]

some nights i still pour you a glass. i know. weird, right? you'd probably make fun of me for it.

tell me it's dramatic. tell me normal people don't sit on balconies talking to dead best friends while drinking wine they definitely can't afford. but normal stopped being an option for us sometime around nineteen eighty-three.

hopper's doing okay. better than okay, actually.

joyce finally got her happy ending & somehow that stubborn old man managed to get one too. i still visit when i can, but not as much anymore. turns out it's easier to let go when the people you love finally stop looking like they're waiting for the world to end.

nancy's doing good too. i don't hate her anymore. i know, i know. don't look so smug. turns out grief makes people stupid. turns out loving somebody doesn't always mean you save them. i think i understand now why you loved her so much.

steve is still steve. which somehow means he's become a decent person. i don't know either. maybe trauma fixed him. maybe getting repeatedly attacked by multidimensional monsters is good for character development. i'll let science figure that one out.

the point is... everybody kept going.

we survived. or at least we're trying to. but sometimes the sky looks right, or somebody laughs the way you used to, or i catch myself reaching for the phone before remembering. and for a second, you're here again. sitting across from me. rolling your eyes. telling me i'm being dramatic.

so i keep the second glass. just in case.

because after everything that happened, after all these years, after finally learning the truth ... i still haven't quite figured out how to leave you behind.

(this is entirely your fault btw @hawkinsown)

[quotefeeling]

“Don’t touch me if you don’t mean it.”

— The War Boys (2009)

[ghostsofhawkins]

@paladinstales |continued from here.

beginnings are such FICKLE little things.

people love them. worship them, even. they point toward a moment & call it the start because it is easier that way. easier to believe tragedies arrive all at once rather than growing quietly beneath floorboards for years beforehand. a simplification of suffering. a tidy bow wrapped around a rotting package. deena has never trusted that sort of logic. not after hawkins. not after barb. not after discovering that every terrible thing she had ever uncovered seemed to have roots buried much deeper than anyone initially realized.

will byers disappeared. eleven appeared. the gate opened.

for most people that would be enough. cause & effect. neat little puzzle pieces clicking together into a picture they could understand. but standing here beneath impossible sunlight & emerald grass, surrounded by a memory that feels far too beautiful to belong to something like vecna, she finds herself staring at the seams instead of the image.

because the upside down is wrong. it always has been.

a kingdom of spores & decay. a starving thing draped in gray skies & corpse-colored ash. she has walked through its ruins. felt it breathing against her skin. this place carries none of that. there are no dying trees. no floating particles. no feeling of being swallowed whole by something ancient & hungry.

only warmth. only life. only the uncomfortable realization that monsters are rarely born monsters. green eyes drift across the landscape before settling briefly on mike. poor mike. he still sounds hopeful when he talks about eleven closing the gate. like a sailor clutching driftwood after surviving a shipwreck. she can't blame him for that. god knows the girl deserves peace. if anyone does, it's eleven. but hope has never been enough to satisfy deena barker.

❛ that's not what i meant. ❜

her voice is quiet. thoughtful. the sort of tone that usually means she has found something she intends to obsess over until it gives her answers.

❛ everybody keeps talking about when the gate opened. when will disappeared. when el showed up. ❜ a pause. fingers curl loosely at her sides.

❛ but that's not the same thing as when this started. ❜ the words settle heavily between them. because vecna had been henry once. because this place existed before it became a graveyard. because somewhere between sunlight & monsters, between childhood & cruelty, something had happened. something important. something nobody had found yet. her jaw tightens.

❛ things don't just wake up one day & become nightmares, mike. ❜ the statement is softer than she intends. more personal. a truth borrowed from more than just monsters. green eyes return to the impossible horizon.

❛ i think everybody's been looking at the gate. ❜

another pause.

another thought.

another thread begging to be pulled.

❛ i'm starting to think the real question is what happened before there was ever a gate to open. ❜

[rcbertnash]

alycia debnam-carey on instagram

[ghostsofhawkins]

"have you ever drizzled half a thing of chocolate syrup, a full bottle of whipped cream, and a few cherries onto a pop tart?"

@zoomingupthathill sent in an ask.

deena stares at her. a long stare. the kind usually reserved for government officials, murder suspects, & people who willingly listen to phil collins.

❛ have you ever drizzled half a thing of chocolate syrup, a full bottle of whipped cream, and a few cherries onto a pop tart ? ❜ her eyebrows slowly disappear into her hairline.

❛ max. ❜ a beat.

❛ i need you to understand that i am asking this from a place of love. ❜ another beat.

❛ what the hell is wrong with you ? ❜ she folds her arms. tries very hard to look disappointed. fails immediately.

❛ a FULL bottle of whipped cream ? ❜ the emphasis is criminal.

❛ not some whipped cream. not a little whipped cream. not an amount a doctor would describe as 'concerning.' you looked god in the eye and said, 'give me the whole can.' ❜

deena shakes her head.

❛ honestly, i don't know why i keep worrying about monsters in this town when you're clearly the most dangerous thing in hawkins. ❜

a laugh slips out despite herself.

❛ and the worst part is i know you ate the entire thing. there wasn't even hesitation. no moment of self-reflection. no tiny voice saying, 'max, maybe this is too much dairy.' ❜

she points at her.

❛ that's why you'll survive the apocalypse, you know that? everybody else will be rationing canned food and you'll be in a bunker inventing new ways to violate the laws of nutrition. ❜

a pause.

❛ ...was it good, though? ❜

another pause.

❛ because if it was really good, i might be willing to commit crimes with you. ❜

[lololunalush-deactivated2021062]

True story. ✌💕👊💥