#BOY WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THAT LIP

[whydontyourealize-viennawaits4u]

If you liked the entire Five × Lila thing in season four and genuinely shipped them, then I'm so sorry. My condolences. Hope you get better.

[clericxhood777]

If this is how a straight guy looks at his gay best friend, who looks at him the same way, then Dinosaurs didn't walk the Earth

I know what you are, Mike Wheeler

[faaun]

my research partner and i are huddled in a blanket in paddington waiting for a too-late train i already miss you and you and you

[aerospectrum]

with windows down- scream along to some america first rap, country song a haunted house with a picket fenceto float around and ghost my friends

[brionnnne]

note that i will only ever call mithrun "stupid" jokingly. by "stupid", i only mean "frustrating behavior that i am immensely familar with". seeing him do something that makes me groan aloud, closing my eyes, sighing "stupid (affectionate, mournful)". like when he fucking... his dumbass "i don't want to [use the bathroom] right now, so it's fine." oughh. i know you! i know you! that's not how that works!!! and he's smart!!! he's so smart... but god, god... he's kind of an absent professor. he's kind of a cloudcuckoolander. i love him dearly. he gets called a dummy, a little idiot, and i flick his forehead, a little bonk of hard-heads, like "try again, idiot. that's not how bodies work." and "ooh, 'that's not going to work'. yes it is. shut up, stoopid. stubborn little man, my god." rolling my eyes forever.

[cherry-treelane]

his hand on her arm/back is the cutest thing ever and yes i will be taking this two second interaction and obsessing over it

[onstoryladders]

A Byler flashfic because why not 🥰 light angst, emotional hurt/comfort, coming out. Maybe a bit ooc but I don't give a damn. Enjoy 💖

NOT MY TYPE

“I thought you liked her”.

Mike doesn't know why he said that – the words just rolled off his tongue without so much as a warning, and he let them. It feels good, though, and it's worth it just to hear Will's soft laugh so close to his ear.

“You thought I liked Angela?”

Mike snorts. “Yeah, well. I didn't know she was an asshole at the time, cut me some slack”.

“Sorry, it's just-- so absurd”.

He elbows Will's side. “It's all your fault!”

“I didn't even speak a word to her, Mike”.

“It was-- it was before that. I mean, you didn't give me the painting at the airport, so I thought, y'know-- it had to be for someone else. And since we were meeting El's friends at the rink-- well, it sounds dumb now that I know, but. Yeah”. He shrugs. “I didn't have all the facts. I had no idea she was Satan incarnate”.

“You're doing Satan a disservice”.

“No doubt about that”.

They remain silent for a little while. It's nice, sitting so close to each other, this time with clean clothes and no smoke twirling above their heads. Just them and the stillness of a Friday evening – as still as the end of the world can be.

When Will speaks again, his soft voice sends shivers down Mike's arms. “I wouldn't like her anyway. Even if she was nice”.

“What, you don't like blondes?”

“I mean...”

Will turns to the side, and Mike does the same. He's not sure it was a smart decision, because now their gazes are interlocked, so close that they can see their own reflection in each other's eyes, and his gut is twisting with something warm he cannot name.

“I've always been partial to darker hair”, Will says.

Mike's throat is suddenly dry. “How dark?”

He doesn't know why he asked. It's a stupid question, it barely makes any sense at all, and-- and what answer does he expect to get?

Like yours, a little voice in his head supplies.

That makes his stomach churn even more, and suddenly it's like he can feel all his thoughts and emotions on his face, written with fire on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He turns away.

“It's not about her hair, though”, Will says.

“Hm?”

“Angela, she's-- she's just not my type”.

“Yeah?” Mike bites the inside of his cheek. He wishes he was wise enough to let the conversation die, but he's always been a little bit of a masochist. “What's your type, then?”

For a few seconds, Will doesn't answer.

Then: “Taller. Broader”, he says. He sounds a little weak, a little strained – like he's forcing himself to go on even though every molecule in his body is against it. “With bigger hands and-- a deeper voice”.

Mike frowns. That's not the description he expected. Those aren't traits that people usually ascribe to girls. It almost sounds like Will's talking about...

“Boys”.

Oh.

Mike's breath catches.

“Oh”.

When he turns towards him, Will is staring at his own hands. He looks scared, and Mike doesn't even think before reaching out to take his hand and hold it.

“Hey”, he says softly. “It's okay”.

Will shakes his head. “They were right”.

“Who?”

“My father, Troy. The others at school”.

“Those jerks weren't right about anything”.

“But they were!” Will raises his head, and Mike's stomach knots up when he realizes he's crying. “Don't you get it, Mike? They took one look at me and knew, even before I did. They were...”

His voice breaks, and something deep inside of Mike shatters just the same. He grabs Will by the shoulders and pulls him into a hug. “Wrong”, he says, arms tightening till their chests are pressed against each other. “They've never known shit about you, Will. Not Troy, not your father, not the other assholes at school”.

Will grips Mike's shirt. “They weren't wrong”.

“So what?” Mike threads his fingers in Will's hair. The awareness of just how close they are would drive him insane if he couldn't feel the dampness of Will's tears against his neck. “All the things they said to you-- it was bullshit, Will. All of it. And it's got nothing to do with whether they were wrong”.

Will shakes his head, tries to push Mike away. It's weak and half-hearted, and Mike doesn't let him.

“Listen to me”, he says, feeling his heart in his throat. “Remember what they used to call Dustin and Lucas? Or even me?”

“That's different”.

“Why? I am a nerd. Lucas is black. So what?”

Will doesn't answer that, and this time it's Mike who pulls away so that he can look at his face, all red from crying. Will is a pretty crier, and Mike would kick himself in the face for thinking that in a moment like this, but right now his priorities lie elsewhere.

Seeing Will like this hurts too much.

“So what?”, he asks again, trying to convey his sincerity through his eyes. “And they didn't know, Will. They just assumed something about you and decided that it was a bad thing, but you know what? There's never been anything wrong with you, so screw them”.

New tears stream down Will's face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Screw every. Single. One of them”.

That makes Will chuckle, and Mike preens at the sound. “You made your point”.

Mike scrunches up his nose. “I don't know, you don't look too convinced”.

“I'm not sure I even look alive right now”.

Mike snorts. “You look fine”, he says, and before he knows it his hands are on Will's cheeks, thumbs swiping under his eyes to dry them from tears. “Just a little red all over”.

Will's eyes widen slightly. “Because I cried”.

“Yeah, I know how crying works”.

“Just making sure”.

Mike doesn't lower his hands after that. He keeps brushing his thumbs against Will's face, touch as soft as a feather, and Will lets him. His eyes are still wide, alight with a flame that Mike has never seen before. It turns his insides into liquid heat.

“Thanks for telling me”, he whispers. His own voice is startling in the silence between them.

“Thank you for not freaking out”.

“Hey, you're my best friend, Will. I love you”.

And it's so easy – letting the words out. He doesn't need to think about them, doesn't have to wonder what they mean, because it's second nature: he knows he loves Will like he knows he needs oxygen to live, one of the undeniable facts of life. Connotations don't matter here.

Except that they kinda do, now, because as easy as it was to say it, Mike's hands are still cupping Will's face, and his eyes keep flickering to his lips, and nothing about this feels like it's supposed to do. The warmth in Mike's body is familiar yet strange – and for a second he wonders if Will's confession did change everything, after all.

Am I such a bad friend?

“What's wrong?”, Will asks.

Mike raises his gaze. “Huh?”

“You're crying too”.

Mike blinks, and a wet veil drops in front of his eyes. “Oh, shit. I don't-- I don't know why”, he says, suddenly feeling small and weird and like he shouldn't be here. “Shit, sorry”.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Because it's dumb to cry without a reason”.

“It's not dumb”.

Will raises his hand, and for a second Mike thinks – hopes – that he's gonna reach out and wipe away his tears like he did for him, but Will seems to change his mind halfway through. His lets his arm fall in his lap again. His fingers curl.

Mike wants to tell him that it's okay, that he can and should touch him back if he wants, but doesn't know how to do that without turning into glass – cold and fragile and see-through.

Vulnerable.

He takes his hands away and rubs his eyes.

“Are we okay?”, Will asks once he's done, and whatever doubts Mike was feeling disappear without a trace at the earnestness in his gaze.

“Of course”. Mike smiles. “We're a team, right?”

Will smiles back. “Best friends”.

“Cool”.

“Cool”.

Mike's confusing feelings can wait a little longer.

This is all that matters now.

[hood-ex]

Having a crisis over whether Joshua Hong is prettier than Dick. With this hair and outfit I—😩.

[dove-da-birb]

DOVE DOVE DOVE DOVEOVEODVEVVOEOEDV I JUST SAW THE ART THING YORUE DOING BC YOU TAGGED ME IN THE FREUD DRAWING AND CAN I PLEAD WITH U FOR A CRUMB OF CHALONER CONTENT ND 1H? NO PRESSURE OFC ^^ !!!

A crumb you say? Hmmm, since you pleaded, I shall feed you… for now~

He’s either confessing or plotting to steal something right from under good ol’ Warden Newton’s nose (both, he’s doing both)

[diaryofamadsunwukongfan]

Sage Ayana

Race: Human

Nationality: Atlas (Areia colony)

Ethnicity: Mixed Vacun & Mistrali

Weapon: Pilgrim

Gender: Man

Sexuality: Aromantic pansexual

Starting Age: 17

Birthday: Spring 1st

Aura Color: Green

Handedness: Right

Complexion: Dark brown

Eye Color: Red

Semblance: Remedy (Every time Sage's Aura shield takes damage, Sage's semblance converts the damage into a secondary Aura reserve called Mood. Sage can use his Mood to heal his body or to recharge his Aura shields immediately, which looks like green leaves wrapping around his body.)

Occupation: Haven student, Junior Detective, Boy band drummer

Previous Occuppation: Sanctum Regional Tournament player (2nd place ten times)

"And the winner is, Sage Ayana of Areia city!" the host announced to the crowd. The hundreds of people in the crowd went wild. Hundreds of them chanting, screaming, Sage's name. He could reasonably assume that almost everyone from his home was watching, cheering for him too. It wasn't good enough.

Sage headed to the locker room. He sat down and began checking his weapon for damages, even though last match only lasted about 7 minutes. That was when she came in. "Good afternoon, Sage Ayana."

Quiet.

"Good afternoon, Pyrrha Nikos." Sage said back to the armored redhead. "It seems we will be going up against each other in the finals again." Pyrrha stated.

Silence.

Pyrrha started again, "How many times have we faced each other like this?"

"Ten times, in a row. I lost every single match."

"Don't sell yourself so short! It's an accomplishment to make it to the finals consistently."

"Stop." Sage commanded.

Pause.

"... Pyrrha," Sage looked her in the eyes for the first time she entered the room, "you know what it's like for people like us. We don't represent ourselves, we represent our towns. And each time I lose here... forget it. I shouldn't have said that." Sage then turned his back again.

Pyrrha walked in front of Sage. "I apologize if my skill in combat has upset you," Pyrrha said, "but being the best comes with a price."

"That's easy for you to say-"

"It's not!" Pyrrha shouted. "... I know Areia is... unfavorably compared to Argus by Atlesians. But know that I, nor anyone else in Argus, view your city that way. We are equals. And it is an honor to earn second place as many times as you did even if you don't see it that way, friend." Pyrrha then reached out her hand to Sage.

For a moment, Sage considered taking her hand. Forgetting about his duties, his discipline, his fidelity to his parent's teachings of strength.

"We are not friends, Pyrrha Nikos." Sage stared her in the eye.

"... very well then, Sage Ayana. Eternal rivals, then." Pyrrha sadly stated.

"...ladies and gentlemen, are you ready for the finale!!!" The host screamed so loud it could be heard inside the locker room.

Sage and Pyrrha got up and walked to the door, waiting for it to automatically open.

"May the best fighter win" Pyrrha hummed.

"I won't lose this time." Sage stated to her.

"You have said that ten times before." Pyrrha coldly stated back.

For a moment, Sage's mouth turned into a frown, but he corrected his face. He must always correct himself, always strive to be perfect... still not good enough.

[your-divine-alchemist]

Since book six is coming to EN for sure… getting into the spirit with edits of the main boys dorm cards !!!! I’ll do their groovies when the book comes out prommy <3

[dirt-str1der]

My boss is sucking up to me rn because i snapped at her and we got into a screaming match

[ultimablades]

I am thinking about Guydelot saying things that are super romantic and Sanson being like 😳😳😳

[xxxcertifiednerdxxx]

my family had dinner with two families we are friends with and sang karaoke, and I actually enjoyed myself. I’m not very confidant in my singing voice, so most of the songs I sang in a kind of dramatic and silly way bc that’s less embarrassing for me than, y’know, actually making an effort to sing well, but I just kind of let go and had fun. It was nice.

[windupaidoneus]

in a sense i can tell emet & i have like very similar standards when it comes to quality. by that i mean i am very picky with art styles especially when it comes to how people draw my favourite guys & i KNOW in a fucked up really weird world where hes real & im the character (well ok due to introject stuff its not that far fetched but bear with me) he would hold fanart of me to the same standards i hold his. does that make sense.