third friend

“Let it be to kill the demon.”

He fell quietly from her arms.

He was a king.

2

“Ever since I met you, I have begun to doubt myself. I have lost faith in my own decisions. But now, with the kingdom in turmoil, I can’t run anymore. Midoriya… what should I do?”

>> Challenge your father for the throne. [King Path]

>> Rescue your mother from prison. [Witch Path]

>> ??? [Hidden Class Path]

- Part of the Boku no Hero Adventure RPG AU.

9

Runner on Third by kikikryslee/ @flamboyantommo!

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was.
“Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it.
Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?”
“I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.”
Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?”
“Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?”
“I’m his teacher.”
“You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed.
Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year.

Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don’t pick up where they left off.

Watching Yuri!!! on Ice with your straight male friends

Male friend 1: I like how in anime foreigners are always screaming ‘BAAAAAKA’ in a Japanese person’s face.

Male friend 2: Why are the pants on these male figure skating costumes so loose?
me: That’s not what-
Male friend 2: They should be more like tights, right? Why aren’t they more like tights?

Victor: I was drawn to the way your body makes music
Male friend 3: That’s not all you were drawn to… *eyebrow waggle*

All the male friends: KISS! KISS! KISS! KIIIIISSSSS!!!!!
(five episodes later)
All the male friends: THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!

Male friend 2: How quickly would I be able to find gender-bend fanart of these guys? It would basically be the first thing I would find, isn’t it?
(five seconds later)
Male friend 2, holding up phone: Yup, here it is

Male friend 4, who showed up for food/hanging out in the middle of episode 12 and had no idea what we were watching: (after 5 minutes, Victor and Yuri Katsuki are on the screen): ….are they in love?

Later, after we watched a bunch of Yuzuru Hanyu videos, one of which has the camera continually showing Yuzu’s butt even though it’s the video of when he got injured right after slamming into Yan Han at the Cup of China:
Male friend 3: Now I understand why there were so many butts in that figure skating anime

4

Title: Runner on third

Author:kikikryslee

Word Count: 39.6k

Status: Complete

Summary: As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was.
“Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it.
Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?”
“I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?”
“Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.”
Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?”
“Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?”
“I’m his teacher.”
“You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed.
Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year.

Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don’t pick up where they left off.

when cutting onions:

-noct cries and complains about the fact that he’s crying
-prompto cries onto the actual onion
-gladio tears up and asks iggy why he’s doing this when literally anyone else could instead
-iggy doesn’t tear up because he’s a fucking beast

I’ve spent most of my life chasing the person I want to be. Because 20-year-old me will have better friends, and 25-year-old me will land a killer job, and 30-year-old me will be madly in love. And me 6 months from now will be skinnier, and me a year from now will be more confident, and me some time from now will be better somehow. So much better. For years, this is what I thought. That if I could just wait it out, everything would get better.
     It took me a long time to realize that life doesn’t work that way. Older doesn’t mean happier or easier, and it certainly doesn’t mean better; it just means older. Life isn’t a well plotted screen play, or a checklist, or, God forbid, some waiting room. We have got to stop waiting. Because life isn’t about growing up to be all that we’ve ever wanted; it’s just about growing.
     It’s about love, and change, and crying yourself to sleep when it’s all too much. And working at a burger joint, and kissing your best friend even though he might not like you back, and calling your mom every Sunday because you miss her like hell. It’s fights, and promotions, and hospital visits. And then it’s this: another wedding of another one of your college friends, the third one this year, but this time you meet a groomsman who’s just as down on love and you dance all night. And this: he cries when you say “I do.” And this: a kid with your eyes and his dorky ears.
      Or maybe not. Maybe it’s this: you write everything, everywhere, all the time, even when the prettier kids make fun of you, and the short teacher with the big nose tells you it’s good. Really good. And this: you’re living in a shoebox, by the skin of your teeth, but there’s a bar across the street that lets you read your poetry, and every time you do, someone in the crowd finally knows what it feels like to be understood. And this: your words being published. Your words. Being bought by people who could be spending their money on anything at all. And you sit in your twin bed where you’ve written your entire novel, a dozen empty coffee mugs still dirty on the nightstand, and you scream until your lungs burn.
      It’s all of these things, and bad things, and good things, and the raw realization that it doesn’t get better or worse, it just gets different. It just changes. Always, always changes. And somehow that makes it more wonderful. Because future you may have the friends, and the boy, and the job, but she didn’t get it by waiting around. She is a product of you. Right now, tomorrow, changing and growing every moment that follows. She is kind, and breathing, and beautiful. But she waits for the day she doesn’t have to worry about paying a mortgage bill, and she worries too often about what people think of her. She still doesn’t have it together.
     And maybe that’s what I’ve learned after all this time: nobody has it together. We’re all just here, floundering around in pursuit of being something more. Broken, thoughtful creatures with too much time on our hands, desperate for the companionship of someone who reminds us that we are not alone. We don’t have much of anything figured out. Maybe we never will. But more importantly, I think that’s how it’s supposed to be.
—  ramblings of an overthinker