#hawkinsdevoured

@hawkinsdevoured sent » "do you want to grow old with me?"

That question threw him for something of a loop. He could feel the pending drop in his stomach, so similar to the sensation he'd experienced last time he'd aired out his feelings with her. Somehow, that memory felt both so old yet insanely fresh, with everything that had happened between then and now.

“Us jocks don't think that far ahead very often,” he claims, echoing something he'd heard about how popular kids could get stuck in high school their entire lives. Stuck in the good times. Peaked young.

It's doubtful that foster kids were known for thinking ahead either. Made him two for two on living for the moment.

@hawkinsdevoured

The only reason deena barker ended up in theater class is because every other art elective was full & she would rather DIE than take painting again.

seriously.

one attempt at watercolor landscapes sophomore year ended with her throwing a paintbrush at the wall & calling still life fruit “psychologically manipulative.” the guidance counselor suggested theater after that with visible concern.

theater had been the last option available and unfortunately for deena, she ended up being good at it. it changed shape from being something she secretly snickered at to something she actually liked.

not the spotlight necessarily, but the pretending. the temporary relief of becoming somebody else for a little while. no missing girls. no hawkins paranoia. no hopper watching her like she’s halfway to becoming a problem.

just scripts, stage lights, & ally davis launching herself across rehearsal stages like she was born under one.

which, honestly, she probably was.

deena found her interesting. maybe it was the rehearsals. maybe it was the shared talks outside the auditorium between scene changes. maybe it was because ally’s energy crashes into rooms at full speed while deena tends to linger quietly at the edges of them like a storm cloud deciding whether or not to ruin someone’s evening.

whatever the reason, they keep ending up together after class.

currently, deena is sitting cross-legged on the edge of the stage floor untangling costume jewelry from her jacket zipper while ally talks nearby. the theater is mostly empty now, bathed in dim amber lighting & the low creaking sounds old buildings make after dark.

❛ why have average when you can have extraordinary ? ❜

deena snorts immediately.

actually snorts.

she glances up with visible skepticism written across her expression before leaning back against the stage platform.

❛ that sounds exactly like something a future cult leader would say right before handing me suspicious punch in a church basement. ❜

a beat passes.

then more thoughtfully:

❛ which is probably why it works on people. ❜

the corner of her mouth twitches slightly afterward, subtle amusement softening her otherwise guarded posture because as ridiculous as ally can be sometimes, there’s something weirdly refreshing about someone who moves through hawkins like they haven’t realized the town is rotting underneath itself yet.

deena thinks she likes that.

can she feel it, too? – the way his heart climbs up the fence secured around it, rattles at the links with fingers bloodied in its attempt to break free. but it remains secure, where it won't hurt when he fails her, where he can easily escape and claim it meant nothing when he continues to hurt those that he cares the most about. there's a drop where this enclosure sits, a sinking that he feels lower in his stomach because he wants to tell her no, that's not the case. no, he will stay... he so desperately wants to be the person that proves her wrong. the haze gathering in his eyes clouds the proper judgement to give her this affirmation. and he is forced to set his jaw, forced to notice the way the night rings out around them, the moths dancing around a nearby streetlight as if this all just didn't matter. he wants to believe it, but when the caramel of his gaze returns to her blues, which he realizes resemble the ocean in more ways than one... it aches that he cares the way that he does – and that he can't shake it no matter how much he tries.

there's an extended stretch of morbid silence before he gives an answer. he shuffles his feet, hands pushed into his pockets. he doesn't move to touch her or provide the physical comfort. he doesn't know why. ❛ hearing you say shit like that, you know, makes it really hard to come up with something that doesn't sound stupid... ❜ not quite what he thinks he wanted to say, but it's already out so he has to commit to it. steve's mouth twitches. his shoulders roll forward as if he's already defeated by his lack of proper articulation. ❛ i'm here right now, aren't i? ❜ but he wasn't. maybe in the physical sense, yes. but it hasn't been normal for a while for them; he wonders if it ever has been. the toe of his shoe kicks at the gravel underfoot, and he lets himself sink deeper into evasion, despite the words he's saying to prove he's there.

Taylor Swift / Folklore Prompts | Accepting | @hawkinsdevoured

Mike frowns. He's not sure of why she's telling him this. He's not a bad listener, of course. Actually he's quite good at it. But since he came back to Hawkins, he's much more anxious than he wants to admit. Vecna almost killed El and Max. They're still not even sure if Max will survive. Eddie died too. Everything seems even crazier than before. Of course Ally is probably very worried about Max. Mike is too. She's his friend, even if things weren't entirely easy between them at first.

@hawkinsdevoured sent » " I can't believe you think I like attention! "

“Riiiight, right, sorry. Never good to make assumptions about people.” Mars hummed for a moment. “But, remind me for a second. Aren't you a drama kid who enjoys being watched by others while putting on a literal show for them? Hm? Were you forced into that . . . or was that a choice you made for yourself?”