DUNGEON MASTER

[wheelerit-blog]

clint  /  @kriiegspiel​

The blond boy’s brow furrowed in focus as he paid close attention to the other’s lips.

(         )  ( You don’t need to be a (ditch?) about it. )   ( Sorry. (??) )                     ( mmmm help you get that down )

“What’d you jus’ call me!?—Oh.—You will?” Clint settled down pretty fast after the other boy offered to help. Least that meant he wasn’t some jack-weasel who’d just run off. “–Sorry. Jus’ I’m dead meat if I don’t get that back. It’s not mine.” Clint sighed as he looked upwards, hands on his hips. “—Aw…Man. That’s really up there. We’re gonna have to climb.”

                       when the other kid’s eyes narrow, mike does THE SAME. squinting his confusion into a flint of what then, turns into a strange feeling of curiosity. it’s like he didn’t hear him, didn’t understand a single word mike said, but the change in attitude is a sudden turnaround on his wondering. mike peps instead, nodding more enthusiastically as he stretches his face into a smile.  ❝ YEAH! ❞ he takes a step closer, rubbing his palms over scratchy fabric of his jeans before giving the tree a dirty look. the arrow was high as hell into the tree, which only made sense. because why would it ever be easy? mike grunts a soft sound. an annoyed sound.  ❝ i mean yeah, of course i’ll help. m’mike. ❞  turning to face him, he holds out a hand.  ❝ so, you any good at climbin’ trees? ❞  

[wheelerit-blog]

kriiegspiel:

@wheelerit gets a baby Clint

“What are y’huh? Some kinda IDIOT? I coulda shot you—RIGHT THROUGH.” Clint’s voice was louder than needed, he’d been beyond caught by surprise so he wasn’t paying attention to making sure he wasn’t yelling too loudly. Thank god he’d loosed the arrow up and away when he’d tumbled back and not right through this kid’s guts. Still it was stuck high up in a tree now. Barney is gonna kill me. Clint got to his feet with a groan and picked up the bow. “Why’d you sneak up on me like that?”         

              ❝ WOW ---- ok, hey ! you don’t need to be a dick about it. ❞  mike huffs, eyes rolling in the same direction the breeze blows his hair. it’d annoy him. but honestly, this random kid gave him a good reason to forget about it. the curled ends rustle when he gives his head a rough shake in reply.  ❝ sorry, jeez. ❞  he adds. the words quick. really, he hadn’t meant to startle him. but he’d gotten a little too close anyway. so yeah, he’s LUCKY . still ---- .   ❝ let me help you get that down, huh? ❞ 

[wheelerit-blog]

el  /  @experiiment011​

     Leaves crunched softly underfoot as Eleven walked through the forest. She knew where she was going or, well, she was fairly certain. It was cool outside, and the fall wind nipped at her fingertips. Hopper would be… Displeased that she left, to put it lightly, but she was past the point of caring. She needed this, she needed to be out, she needed to see him. 

     After a bit of wandering, El finally came across the two story house. Her eyes fell upon his bicycle, propped up near some bushes. It looked as if Mike had just gotten home, or had run inside really quick for something. 

     Glancing around to make sure nobody was around, Eleven deemed it safe enough to go and sit, semi-hidden, near his bike, and wait for him to come back out to it.

backpack, flashlight, quarters----that’s everything, he thinks. he hopes. collecting everything in a scurry of his sneakers through the living room & on the good carpet. mike was late. but it wasn’t his fault. he didn’t ask to go grocery shopping. didn’t want to crawl up & down every, single aisle, & stay by the cart michael with your sister. not to mention that if he had to listen to his dad drone on & on about the difference between salted & unsalted canned corn for another second, he was going to explode, taking it with him when he got home. FINALLY. mike chucks the flashlight into his bag, zipping it & throwing it over his shoulder when he stomps past the kitchen. but the sight of a granola bar has him hanging, slowing his pace to snatch it from the counter GREEDILY; the wrapper crinkles in his hands. he’d been so busy this morning-----all around that food, & he’d forgotten to eat. mike licks his lips, charging for the door to worry about that later.     

               ❝ BYE, MOM ! ❞  mike shouts it back into the house, already halfway out the door. it was to let them, somebody, know he’d left but he knows he might as well have yelled it into the ether at this point. he takes around the corner to where he’d parked his bike, reaching into his pocket for his snack.  he freezes when he looks up.  holy shit.  ❝ EL? ❞  

[wheelerit-blog]

new kid on the block  /  @spaceforkirk

[ his name’s called & he eases out a tense breath. it’s not like he’s been avoiding anybody, but he hasn’t been totally out there about his apprehension over saying no, or saying yes, caught between disappointment & discomfort. he was stuffing textbooks haphazardly into the bookbag nestled against his knees— an act of preparation made so he could run right home after their last period & maybe make it out like, who knows, he forgot? or something.

well that plan was busted, anyway. jim glanced up from a crouch at mike, a painful showcase of all smiles, with measured uncertainty, then distractedly lowered his gaze back to his bag & his hand around a science book, adding it with the others. ] 

“ — yeah, i dunno, mike. i wanna. i’m just— i shoulda asked sooner, you know? frank hates when i spring his stuff on him. ”

despite the dizzy stress of too many bodies in the hallway, mike gives him A MELLOW shrug. the paired focus of his eyes on jim, like they’re the only two kids in the entire school. he knows jim is  ON EDGE , can tell by the way the other seems to hesitate around even the act of smiling his hello. he wishes he could just prove to him, he could TRUST him.               ❝ hey , IT’S OKAY . really. ❞  mike nods, jumping his chin encouragingly while he waves his hands just the same. he was optimistic. clearly. showing no signs of taking NO for an answer despite his reassurance that everything would be alright.  ❝ my mom, she says she knows yours. i mean, she’s seen her around, y’know? ❞  he shuffles his feet, closing them in on the edges of jim’s backpack, & watches him load more books. 

 ❝ she could talk t’ her an’ like----I DUNNO, i’ll tell her we’re partners on that thing mister clarke’s teaching us. huh? s’gotta be cool if your mom says so, right? you GOTTA come! ❞  

[wheelerit-blog]

xaedificare:

ariadne blinked at the kid. kids were weird. it wasn’t that she didn’t like them in general or found them annoying, she just was never around any to get a sense of how to deal with them. she didn’t want to freak him out more than he already seemed to be, but he probably shouldn’t have been in the active construction site either.

well. semi active. damn contractors.

     “ well, kind of. are you all right? do you need help or something? “

           ❝  NO . ❞  he says, practically shouting. too quickly, maybe. mike scales back. his eyes blown wide at the same time his mouth rounds out in his own surprise. he really didn’t expect ANYONE to be here. looking around with a jittery shake of his chin while he drops his hands and wipes the dampness  ( why the hell’s he so sweaty?? )  from his palms on his jeans. the wrinkly fabric, scratchy against his skin.     ❝ i mean, no . ❞  mike huffs. a smooth plfft sound blowing out of the corner past his lips. he shakes his head more firmly this time. the long hair of his bangs, flipping over his eyes and out of the way.  ❝ i was just, y’know, passin’ through. this buildings been empty forever. what’re you guys doin’ to it? ❞ 

[wheelerit-blog]

ooc / SORRY IVE BEEN ABSENT . LIFE, MY DUDES. 

[sarahcamerons]

insp.

[wheelerit-blog]

@onlyinhawkins  / hopper​

Amends are worth making  || Jim & Mike

He hasn’t spoken to Wheeler since their fight – in the kid’s defence, he had a damned point. Jim Hopper isn’t a stupid man, he didn’t make town sheriff just by sitting on his ass all day (though sometimes it certainly felt like it), he knows when to admit he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Still, that didn’t make the sting any less, the reminder that he had done wrong; by Jayne, by Mike, by the whole damned group that kept getting dragged through hell at the whim of Hawkin’s lab and the assholes who ran it. 

He was supposed to clean up the mess, not make more of it. Keep the town safe. Right. And he’d done a fine upstanding job so far. But fair is fair, and he’s still the sheriff ( last he checked, anyway ) and the storm’s setting in with a rumbling ferocity that makes him more than a little twitchy at the idea of a teenager out in the rain.

“–Need a ride, kid?” 

he’d been on his way home when it started raining. the moody sky turned dark grey as tiny droplets began to fall and soak his hair. the storm spoils the black strands damp, too wet, and curled up on his forehead. mike frowns, groaning, before picking up the pace.                      ❝  ugh ,  —-  so stupid. ❞  his sneakers slosh in the rain, funneling and streaming into the crack between the street and the grass. he clings tighter to his backpack, jarring his thoughts from his smokey eyed reunion a few days ago, to focusing on getting home and changing into dry clothes. maybe he’ll even eat mother’s meatloaf for the third time in two weeks. god, mom. but he’s rattled again from the sound of a vibrating engine, quickly side stepping with a squelch of his shoes, and blinking the water from his eyelashes. it’s a truck. the bright light of its high beams, causing him to squint. mike pulls his hand up like a shield to block the rain, looking for the driver.  hopper.  oh.  he drops his arm and hooks his thumb back into his bag, letting the vehicle pull up beside him. the chief offers him a ride through his window and he accepts, the spark of another frown slowly burning on his face when he nods.  he’s still mad, but the rain sucks. so he gets in, the door creaking when he shuts it after hopping into the passenger seat with a rude squish and a lazy gesture up ahead.   ❝  my house s’up that way. er, you know where  ----- WHATEVER , thanks.  ❞  

[elizajane-morley]

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[wheelerit-blog]

a double take. mike looks to his left. once, again. then back down the down road. the long fringe of his bangs in a thick sweep across his forehead. he blames the wind. it’s cold. and that’s not who he thought it was next to him. it’s steve. mike picks up the pace at the edge of the grass where it meets the street. pulling at the straps of his backpack.  ❝ dude. ❞

          ❝ you know nancy’s not home, right? ❞    @batspiked​

[wheelerit-blog]

NICE LADY 

     Uhura looked to the boy, noticing the broken communicator in his hands. She then turned to the shuttle driver who was shouting at the boy. She immediately identified the language as Bajoran, and explained that she would pay for the boy’s ride. After paying she turned back to the boy and smiled, “I’m Uhura. Come sit with me, I’ll see if I can fix that translator for you.”

mike shifts on his foot , tilting his head with a scrunched up look he usually wears when he’s missing some details. she must have paid him. the pilot. mike looks at him , glaring , as he steps inside the shuttle doors , feeling along the edge of every seat on his way to take one by his savior’s side. & he means it. she SAVED him. that gets her an automatic pass.   ❝ what did he say? ❞  he breathes out, talking quickly, as he slides into the spot next to her. mike offers her his translator. eccentricity on full speed ahead. 

          ❝ was it about the credits? i can pay you back ---- i mean he doesn’t look nice at. all. i promise m’good for it ! cos’ y’know, you didn’t have to do that. but i mean you did, and now you're gonna help me with this. so i should definitely pay you back. ❞

[wulfhalls]

S T R A N G E R   T H I N G S   2

[wheelerit-blog]

            ❝ hey. ❞ he rolls his shoulders , picking at the pockets on either side of his thighs. mike’s awkward in stance. he knows it. but it’s certainly not the case in his face. squinting upwards and around the halo of some stranger’s blonde hair. an important stranger maybe , judging by his stripes. 

                ❝ so , are you like ,  ACTUALLY , captain kirk? ❞        @diedsaving​

[laibyrinth]

No… no El, you’re not the monster. You saved me. Do you understand? You saved me.

[bellblake]

[wheelerit-blog]

//Hello. Yes. I'd like to report a crime. I've been personally victimised by you and your perfect writing and 10/10 characterisation. How very dare. CODE RED. I repeat. CODE RED.

ooc / what?? stop this. im screaming. waklfjkdsfjadsk !! ilu