#whccler

[endexe]

[ REDACTED ] + NAMES GIVEN BY MY MUTUALS & THEIR MUSES ( PT. 1 ) 

@heartlanded   /   @hetrembled   /   @neverafters   /   @whccler   /   @maskeraide

[sxperflxity]

         “You’re not supposed to be here,” he finds himself whispering, blinking in surprise as he looks around, looks at his surroundings with confusion warring through his features. “I don’t think I’m supposed to be here, either,” he admits, taking a step back as he notices bodies wrapped up in veins of red, veins of darkness. “Nancy, what --” he asks, shaking his head. “Where are we? And why are we here together?” Not that he cares, it’s just -- last he checked, he was nowhere near Hawkins, and he was hanging out with Mike and El, not at some random house, in --- who even knows where. “What the hell is going on?”

@whccler​

[kurthortonmoved]

@whccler​    :    “ is it wrong if i still like you? ” but make it 94--

she’d be one of the few. while he had always been plenty popular in his youth, his popularity had faded very quickly after nightwing. he’d shrunk back from everything that made him social, forced out of gymnastics and soon found himself better friends with the bottom of a bottle than he was with anyone he’d grown up with. the boy she’d kissed on camp, the boy she apparently liked, felt like such a far cry from who he was now — and yet here they are, both dragged into it all again, both forced to try to help some random kids that found themselves facing down and all too familiar axe-wielding maniac. he can’t help but laugh slightly at the question, possibly the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in a long while. “definitely an interesting choice.” he’s well aware that he hasn’t exactly made much of himself, knows that everyone’s plenty familiar with his tendency to drown his sorrows. he may have begrudgingly sobered up for this, but still he had a faint smell of alcohol to him. “for what it’s worth—” gaze meets hers before faltering, attention turned to the floor. “—i still like you too.”

[amberferrisarchive]

sunday  morning  found  her  lounging  on  her  best  friends  bed,  idly  flicking  through  the  pamphlet’s  their  career  counsellor  had  given  them  for  potential  colleges.  while  amber’s  grades  weren’t  valedictorian  worthy,  they  were  likely  enough  to  get  her  into  a  decent  college.  if  she  could  ever  decide  what  it  is  she  wanted  to  do  with  the  rest  of  her  life.  the  fact  that  they  were  supposed  to  make  this  decision  at  eighteen  was  ridiculous.  amber  could  barely  decide  what  she  wanted  for  breakfast  most  days.  

❝  this  is  hopeless!  ❞  the  pamphlets  pushed  off  the  bed  to  swirl  in  the  air  before  landing  in  a  mess  on  the  carpet.  she’d  clean  it  up  soon.  for  now  she  just  wanted  to  be  dramatic.  ❝  how  am  i  meant  to  choose?  it’s  not  like  i  have  any  idea  if  i’d  be  any  good  at  computer  sciences  or  veterinary  school.  how  did  you  know  you  wanted  to  be  a  journalist?  ❞  flipping  over,  amber  set  her  sights  on  the  brunette.  nancy  always  seemed  to  have  everything  figured  out,  while  amber  just  felt  like  she  was  struggling  to  keep  her  head  above  water.             @whccler​

[hopegrieves]

FAR CRY FIVE SENTENCE STARTERS

Status: Accepting

@whccler​ said: ❝ you just cannot go around this world expecting perfection. ❞  for John!

          For a moment John almost allows himself to slip, blue eyes turning a shade darker as his body prepared for him to snap, but he bit his tongue both figuratively and literally just as the venomous words were about to spill from his lips; a scoff taking their place instead. ❝ You shouldn't expect or perform in a manner that's nothing less than perfection.❞ He counterargues with a snarl edging on his lips. ❝ Just being good is not enough, subpar even. Why do you think the world is in the state it's in now? Because of people like you.❞

[unbelong-arc]

STARTER CALL     /     @whccler​.

                   ‘i’m sure you think i’m strange,’ she’s approached nancy at her locker, loosely holding a large text book between her forearm and hip. her face is kind. the scarf normally wrapped around her scarred throat tucks just under her chin and hides everything that’s underneath. ‘and i know your mother only invited me over for dinner to be polite. if you don’t want me to come, i will not,’ she had been softened by morticia attending the school’s open house with blair, but them talking with karen and nancy was merely an accident. blair gives a smile. ‘i’d understand completely,’