#hawklines

[ghostsofhawkins]

deena and dottie and ally and mateo and mars are making the stranger things world feel so warm and lived in to the point i both actively wish for them to be in the show (retroactively) and am glad they are not. s5 broke my heart, and i'm sure mine wasn't the only one, but dare i say, you're all making me fall in love with the world of stranger things again one day, one thread, one beautiful gifset, one beautiful edit at a time.

ooc | character dynamic & development | always accepting

hello no, i gotta get outta here naow!!

first of all this is disgustingly kind and i need you to know i read this like three times with my hand over my mouth 😭

the fact that deena, dottie, ally, mateo, and mars feel warm and lived-in to you, like they belong there without taking something away from the canon characters, means so much to me, because that’s exactly the balance i always hope for when i’m writing deena into stranger things. i never want her to feel intrusive or like she’s there to hijack anyone else’s story. i want her to feel like one more thread in the sweater. one more person in a town full of people trying to survive impossible things. and i'm sure the writers behind these amazing characters feel the same way. I am tagging them because they deserve to be in on this love! | @hawklines, @hawkinsingenue, @sleuthscreams, @hawkinsfoster

and honestly? “i’m glad they’re not” might be the sweetest part of this ask to me 😭 because i know exactly what you mean. stranger things has always been such a special sandbox to play in, but it’s also one of those worlds where i almost want to keep our little corner of it protected from canon at this point lmao. like yes, let me lovingly tuck deena into hawkins and let her haunt the edges of it forever, but also let me keep her, dottie, ally, mateo, mars, and all the tiny threads we’ve built in this weird little fandom terrarium where i can still pretend everyone is alive and nobody has ever suffered under the duffers a day in their lives.

so genuinely, thank you. because a lot of what i love most about writing deena in hawkins is exactly that feeling : making the world feel inhabited. making it feel like these characters had people around them who mattered, who loved them, who changed them, who left fingerprints on the story even if they weren’t in the original script. if deena and all of these relationships are helping you fall in love with stranger things again, even a little bit, then that’s kind of the loveliest thing you could’ve told me 🥲🤍

[hawkinsingenue]

@hawklines gets a random starter they didn't ask for...

“If I could kill someone with my mind, I would master that power and use it for the greater good,” Ally manages as she flops herself down on Dottie's bed and growls up at the ceiling. She's being dramatic, but she feels like for once, she is actually justified for this, and she throws her arms over her eyes with a huff. “There is not a man in this world I want to murder more than Steve Harrington. His pretty brown eyes should be gouged out.” Yeah, so she's mad at Steve.

It's obvious of course the way she's saying all of this, but if anyone understands the audacity of men, it's Dottie. Worse than all this though, is that Ally feels stupid, and that's a feeling that she really doesn't like to feel when men are involved in the equation. She likes to think of herself as a fairly intelligent person, so the fact that she had let Steve even get her this emotional, kind of pisses her off.

“If I stuffed him into a body bag, would you help me bury him in the woods? I feel like we'd be doing Hawkins a public service...”

[hawkinsfoster]

@hawklines sent » "do you trust me enough to close your eyes?"

She was among the very few that he almost unquestioningly trusted; he wasn't about to admit that out loud, but it was true all the same. Really, she could get him to do almost anything if she turned it into a display of faith. Something that was way too easily weaponized, and she was using it to have him close his eyes?

“We're doing trust exercises now? Is this a cheerleader thing?” The sarcasm rolled off his tongue with practiced ease, but he didn't wait for her to respond to it. With an exaggerated sigh, like he was preparing himself for this to go off the rails somehow, he gave her a final look before closing his eyes. “I'm assuming there is no peaking allowed?”

[sleuthscreams]

▪ ♪ ♩ ♫ ♬ @hawklines sent: "Remind me why I agreed to this?"

Quite honestly, even he wasn't sure what would have possessed a cute cheerleader, mayor's daughter, and all-around mentally put-together Dottie Kline to join him on this wild investigation either. Suppose there were one or two general hunches. “Morbid curiosity,” he starts while hopping out of his van, checking to make sure his flashlight is working. “Compassion for the possible plights of those living under your father's mayorship being struck with danger?” Then he smiles. “Because I might be full of shit, but at least I'm cute?”

Twirling the flashlight with a skillful flourish, he hands it off to her. “Go on, I have a spare. Remember, we don't want that on until we're deep enough in the fields that we won't be noticed by anyone; we don't want anyone chasing us off before I know what's going on.” Closing up the van door, he left it unlocked in case they needed to make a quick getaway. Having to unlock a car while attempting to flee? Rookie horror film mistake.

Nudging his head in the direction he wanted them to go, he started walking. Hawkin's police and the government had been out in this field. About time he learns what's so intriguing. “C'mon, you follow through, and I'll owe you lunch or something.”

[teveharrington]

his  series  of  flirting  misfires  dutifully  documented  by  his  co-worker  at  SCOOPS  AHOY!  was  beginning  to  wear  on  his  confidence.  or  maybe,  it  was  the  stupid  sailor's  hat  they  were  forced  to  fashion  as  part  of  their  completed  uniforms.  either  way,  it  was  an  END  OF  AN  ERA  FOR  STEVE.  he  needed  to  get  creative  if  he  was  going  to  survive  this  new  chapter  in  his  (  love  )  life.  there  he  stood,  next  door  to  his  place  of  work  on  his  off-day  looking  at  the  G ᐧ A ᐧ P's  latest  trends  in  apparel.  more  specifically,  he  was  eyeing  a  rack  of  jackets.  the  plan  was  that  he  would  purchase  one  of  these  eye-catching  coats  and  store  it  in  the  lost  &  found.  when  he  started  to  bomb  with  a  cute  customer  (  as  he  inevitably  would,  apparently  ),  he  begin  a  song  and  dance  that  went  something  like:  have  you  lost  your  jacket?  this  would  look  great  on  you.  it  really  brings  out  your  eyes… 

the  only  thing  was,  the  longer  he  gazed  at  the  row  of  different  colored  and  styled  jackets  that  he  was  prepared  to  blow  his  paycheck  on,  the  more  DOUBT  combated  his  matchmaking  genius.  first,  he  argued  with  himself  that  he  shouldn't  be  looking  at  coats  because  it  was  summer.  then  he  wondered  if  it  gave  the  right  signal  that  he  was  trying  to  suggest  fashion  tips  to  a  potential  date.  it  might  come  off  as  controlling.  not  to  mention  the  lost  &  found  when  you  haven't  actually  misplaced  a  beloved  item  was  a  little  icky.  a  cardboard  box  of  lost  dreams?  very  appealing. 

steve  was  coming  his  hand  through  his  hair  in  mounting  frustration  when  @hawklines  voice  broke  through  his  dilemma. 

“  who  is  it  for?  ”

oh,  god!  steve  jerked  his  hands  up  to  start  filing  through  the  jackets  in  a  moment  of  panic  like  he'd  been  caught  sleeping  in  glass  just  as  the  teacher  crept  up  behind  his  desk  to  check  his  work.  what  the  hell  could  he  say?  he  was  shopping  for  bait  in  the  hopes  of  getting  a  date  over  the  summer?!  oh,  god…  he  was  pathetic.  hands  falling  away  from  the  clothing,  he  placed  his  palms  on  his  hips  and  searched  his  brain  for  any  sentence  in  english  to  answer  her  question. 

❝  it's  summer.  ❞  technically  a  complete  sentence,  and  it  was  english.  context  was…  questionable.  he  blinked  slowly.  ❝  i'm  in  the  wrong  section,  ❞  he  rushed  to  cover.  ❝  i  should  look  for  something…  cooler.  ❞  hopeless,  hopeless,  HOPELESS.  ❝  my  neighbor…  who  is  a  lady.  her  birthday  is  soon.  she  used  to  babysit  me  when  my  parents  were,  you  know,  at  the  country  club.  anyway,  i  just  thought  it  might  be  nice  to  surprise  her.  with  something  nice.  ❞  stop  talking.  fighting  to  appear  casual,  steve  moved  to  lean  against  the  jackets.  which  weren't  solid  for  leaning.  at  the  last  second,  he  ran  his  hands  over  the  row  as  if  admiring  them.  ❝  nice  material.  good  quality.  ❞  he  folded  his  arms.  that  was  SAFE,  right?

[dealtgod]

@hawklines , continued

Max is just about ready to second guess. She draws the skateboard closer to her body. Wraps her free arm over her chest, fingers digging into her forearm. Maybe she shouldn't do this. Shouldn't ask. But Susan's drinking again, and it's bad this time. Bad as in Max can't do that thing where she circles around it. Pretends it doesn't exist. She hears the guidance counselor in her head. A voice that echoes. Pities her. Wants to save her. Don't save me don't pity me just let me miss my brother let me want him back. Do you even remember him or what he did? I watched him die I let him die. There's things I need to tell him because he needs to hear it, only him, and I need to say it and I feel sick, sick, sick. Max pushes everyone away. Hates the way they try to save her. She wants to scream. Throw things back in their faces. Where were they when Billy needed help?

Where was she?

"I can just leave. I-" Max tries shrugging it off with a pronounced frown. Like it doesn't matter. But Dottie's bringing her inside, and the house is so big. It's a world Max doesn't understand. But she remembers Dottie from The Gap. Remembers Dottie hanging out with Billy. They were friends. Like, real friends. And if they were friends, then maybe...

Max stops herself. Because the maybes hurt, and she's being too goddamn naïve about it. There is no version of this where she gets her brother back. But she keeps falling for it. Again and again. Keeps convincing herself that maybe he'll be back any second. And maybe that's why she's with Dottie. Because maybe Billy will come back here.

Snap out of it.

"Did you eat yet?" Her question comes out fast. Sudden. Partly because Max is trying to make up for the fact that she's only half-listening. Because she's in her head. Part of her is dead; the other part living. And she's not here half the time. But the other part is that if Dottie eats, then it wouldn't be so bad if she did, too. Both hands caught in the cookie jar type deal. "We could share." All that's waiting at the trailer is whatever shit she can warm up. Frozen dinners. No fancy shit from Enzo's.

Tired eyes lift to Dottie at the mention of Kate Bush. Hesitant, but curious. Like she's peering over the self-imposed wall that barricades her from the world. Dottie remembered. "You like it? I can't stop listening to her." Her mouth twists, like she's contemplating her next words. And then, "What's your favorite song?"

[jagcula]

once  his  coven  was  broken,  dwayne  vanished  deep  into  the  caves  of  santa  carla  to  regain  his  strength.  hunting  alone  was  more  dangerous  especially  after  the  vampire  hunters  knew  of  his  existence  and  expected  him  to  be  destroyed.  he  never  could  get  a  proper  feeding.  keeping  to  the  shadows,  he  drank  enough  to  climb  onto  a  bus  one  night.  every  stop  that  was  made  just  before  dawn,  dwayne  would  disappear  under  a  proverbial  rock  then  found  another  bus  the  next  night.  and  so  it  went  until  he  ended  up  far  away  from  his  coastal  territory.  feeding  was  easier  during  the  trip,  but  dwayne  kept  CAUTION.  he  never  knew  if  the  hunters  followed  his  trail  or  if  there  were  more  to  be  met  along  the  road. 

weeks  he'd  traveled  until  he  reached  a  place  called  hawkins,  indiana.  the  bus  stopped  on  the  limits'  edge.  the  town  slept  as  the  greyhound  rolled  in,  and  dwayne  knew  it  was  his  chance  to  fade  into  the  unassuming  population's  darkness.  he  found  a  field—a  pumpkin  patch.  unguarded  by  dogs  or  many  street  lights.  his  senses  took  in  the  leftover  scent  of  rotten,  disturbed  earth.  he  slipped  into  the  abandoned  tunnels  and  spent  the  next  few  nights  wondering  about  their  use.  he  left  his  back  to  the  soil,  supernatural  eyes  watchful  for  any  travelers  he'd  meet  beneath  the  surface.  after  he  was  sure  of  their  solace,  dwayne  explored  more  freely  finding  the  mapped  out  path  of  the  entire  town.  how  convenient.  whatever  their  previous  intention  had  been,  dwayne  felt  the  first  glint  of  good  luck  since  the  battle  with  the  frogs  and  michael  and  star's  betrayal. 

while  the  quiet  of  the  town  offered  good  cover  for  him  to  hide  within,  he  knew  he  had  to  be  careful  feeding  on  the  locals.  his  targets  were  mainly  passersby  he  tracked  to  the  bar.  truck  drivers  and  drunks.  never  killing  like  he  used  to  back  where  he'd  come  from.  it  wasn't  safe  to  leave  a  trail  of  bodies  when  he'd  traveled  so  far  after  his  supposed  DEATH.  dwayne  would  sample  and  leave  the  victims  hypnotized  along  the  highway,  carrying  with  them  the  tall  tales  of  white  fangs  flashing  in  the  night  and  a  grip  so  tight  it  left  their  blood  cold.  warnings  were  forming  on  the  tongues  of  those  who  passed  through  hawkins  frequently.  it  left  dwayne  no  other  choice  but  to  get  creative.  he  wasn't  strong  enough  yet  to  keep  moving.  he  was  downtown  when  he  pulled  @hawklines into  one  of  the  passages  of  the  tunnels.  the  night  was  quiet  again,  but  dwayne  was  alarmed  that  she  might  wake  them  to  come  to  her  rescue. 

"  you  obviously  don't  know  what  these  people  are  like.  "

after  sweeping  her  deep  through  the  maze  of  the  tunnels,  dwayne  distanced  himself  from  the  blonde.  his  eyes  visible  burning  balls  of  light  in  the  shadows  as  he  observed  her.  only  his  eyes.  ❝ can't  imagine  being  afraid  of  a  town  filled  with  farmers.  tell  me.  what  are  these  people  like?  ❠  his  laughter  seemed  to  echo  from  all  directions.  dwayne  couldn't  move  as  fast  as  he  would  were  he  filled  with  fresh  blood,  but  he  made  due.  long,  clawed  fingers  skirted  through  the  ends  of  her  curly  hair  as  he  settled  behind  her.  ❝  would  you  miss  them?  i  could  show  you  the  world  as  you  would  never  see  it  stuck  here  in  this  town.  would  you  like  to  see?  ❠  his  hand  moved  around  her  throat,  but  his  fangs  were  retracted.  only  his  breath  bathed  the  thrumming  point  of  her  pulse  underneath  her  defined  jawline.  his  thumb  stroked  its  course.  his  lips  framed  the  shell  of  her  ear.  ❝  i  can  show  you  so  much  more.  ❠

[hawkinsfoster]

✧ 𝄃 𝄃 𝄃 𝄃 𝄃 @hawklines » liked for a starter where mars has gotten into a fight for their muse's honor.

Pain involved with punching someone in the face without the protection of a boxer's glove was a sensation he'd become too accustomed to, and made it so he hardly thought twice about swinging his fists now. Still, with all the anger and adrenaline burned out of his system, the pain was becoming noticeable. Open wounds on his knuckles burned enough that the corner of his mouth ticked in response to the alcohol soaked rag Dottie dabbed against them. Every time the rag pulled away, his eyes zeroed in on the blood that was left on the fabric.

He hadn't looked at her yet. Not since he'd been pulled off that jerk earlier and dragged to her car so she could buy stuff to take care of him. Because he was in trouble, he knew it. Dumb to think that avoiding eye contact was going to give him more time before she told him off. Honestly, the only thing stopping her was probably wanting to clean him up first.

A cold drink sat at his side, and when she was done cleaning his knuckles, he placed it against his cheek where he'd taken a few good jabs. Getting into a fight meant being willing to take some hits. Though he really hadn't expected that guy to know how to duke it out as well as he had.

“ You're bruising like a peach... ”

Shoulders shrug in response to that. “ Guy had big hands, ” he mumbled, no surprise that mitts like those could do some damage, “ bigger mouth. That's why I put my fist into it. ”