#actually he's an amazing dad

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[calamaricollie]

Behold, my sappiest (and longest) Lari comic yet, I hope ya'll enjoy some tooth-rottingly sweet fluff UvU

More of me rambling under the cut:

Honestly I was so worried about posting this one, I wrote it when I was really needing some comfort so it turned out very sweet, less humorous than my other shitten stuff, but hey if you've watched and liked my animatic that's what you're here for anyways >:)

As much as I love feral Nari I just love writing him being all soft and chilled out tbh, this cat has been fully domesticated over years of TLC (Tender Lamb Care), I just hope others like it as much as I do too :p

[egophiliac]

Serious question.

Do you think we’ll see the parents/family of each of the guys???

Like, We’ve been TEASED with Ace’s brother, that I’m starting to think it’s just a reference to that Alice in Wonderland park character in Japan and nothing else….

Jack’s family, Ruggie’s grandma, Falena, Maleficia, Ms.Rosehearts, Just now Vil’s dad is in the picture which I am really happy but now I’m wondering about his mom, and so Deuce’s mom.

I mean, some HAVE a silhouette!! It could mean they do have a design in the making/ready to show. They could’ve shown us Falena in the Tamashina (hope I said that correctly) event, but didn’t (prolly to make Leona not so σ(▼□▼メ) and it’s understandable)

Anyhow, any idea/headcannon about this? Who do you want to see first?

I'm wondering if everyone might eventually get a travel event? like they've now introduced with Vil's that it doesn't have to be specifically hometowns, so that opens things up a lot! (especially if they have to figure out how to do three separate Coral Sea visits) (how would that even work otherwise)

but yeah, I hope everyone gets a chance! there's a lot of backstory characters I would LOVE to meet. :D :D :D though I do think some of them don't really suit the more light-hearted tone of the events (pretty sure you're right about that being why Falena wasn't in Tamashina-Mina, that would've just been. too much for Leona.) so like...we're probably not ever going to meet the Rosehearts. or Maleficia (although I maintain that this would be THE funniest possible way to introduce her outside of the main story, and actually I would love this a lot, can we please Twst) (I need to see her to put Malleus in a froofy little outfit and tell him what a handsome boy he is). but they've sprung surprises like Kifaji on us, and honestly anyone who shows up and tells embarrassing stories about characters' childhoods is good in my book!

characters off the top of my head who I most want to meet: literally any of the Zigvolts, Azul's mom, Ace's brother, Che'nya's grandfather (<- I think he would be a good one for Riddle) (please just any non-terrible adult in his life), any member of Rook's family because I need to see how they managed to produce him, and...really just whoever they can come up with for Silver.

[divineandmajesticinone]

4 MINUTES (2024) I EP 5 "How about this. How much do you want? Give me a number."

[pfffsfic]

I thought too hard about the circumstances of the (not really an AU, more of a series of loosely connected drawings) Rob Cipher AU. unfortunately, I came up with this.

[uncanny-tranny]

If somebody in your life offers to knit or crochet or, really, create anything for you, please be an active participant in the creation of the piece they are making. I adore making and gifting things, but nothing bums me out quicker than a person who passively just goes "okay," to my ideas about what I'm making them - it can send the message that they won't like it, or that they don't care, even if they're happy about my offering. The back-and-forth feedback is a great way to make sure that you are being gifted something that was truly worth the time, effort, expertise, and money that will inevitably go into the gift!

I know it's really hard to be an active participant, believe me, I'm an anxious ball of horror, but it will only do good for both parties to interact in this situation. It is a big deal to be offered a hand-crafted gift, but it's also something we want you to love and use, and that can only happen if you tell us what would make you fall in love with what we create.

[mage-propaganda]

So many people miss the point of my original post and I’m tired of it so come clarification:

Yes, some guys suck. Some guys are really horrible people, who do horrible things. This isn’t news to anyone! Though it might be surprising for some to learn that there are women out there who suck, are terrible people, and do terrible things too. Neither of these things are the point!

If you’re dating a man, maybe don’t constantly shit on him for a funny little thing like ~gender~ which he can’t really control. A lot of people will make fun of and hate the old boomer mindset of “I hate my wife” jokes and then will turn around and do the exact same fucking thing to their boyfriends. It’s stupid! It’s annoying! And it’s extremely prevalent in the queer, more specifically bisexual, community (aimed at both bi men and women) to the point it can just be straight up Homophobic at times (why tf you shaming a bi man for having boyfriend instead of a wife??).

“Oh but Bees, I have trauma! I can’t help hating men and looking at the person I want as my boyfriend in utter disgust” then don’t date! Go to therapy, work on yourself! Don’t subject some poor dude to constant vitriol because you refuse to work yourself! I swear to everything good people on this app, and others, will shit on disabled people, and neurodivergent people, for being disabled and needing some extra assistance from their partners sometimes (something they often CANT help)… and then turn around and be like “but actually…my trauma means I can verbally abuse my boyfriend for being a man :/// thanks :///“.

There, now all the sorry-ass-joy-sucking motherfuckers can shut the fuck up!! Here’s clarification!! If you see happy gay couples, or a confident trans man in a healthy relationship, or something and feel the need to add a rant about your failed relationship with a dude (so they can’t be happy either) maybe pick up journaling or something! Get hobbies! Enjoy life! And maybe stop with all your bad takes!!

[maxv331]

Maxverstappen1: Mini Verstappen-Piquet on the way ❤️

We couldn't be happier with our little miracle 💫

[moeblob]

Rice. From my plot that's literally just a game of chess. (he's a rook)

[resident-gay-bitch]

Regulus’ heart breaks as he stands there, just behind the willow tree, watching James and Sirius roll around on the grass, play fighting in their own little world.

Of course he left him. Of course James would pick Sirius over Regulus, wouldn’t everyone? Regulus has never been picked first. Not once.

Not by his parents, who ignored him throughout his entire childhood to focus on framing Sirius as the perfect son and heir.

Not by Sirius, who ran away, picking James to be his brother and not bothering to ask Regulus to tag along.

Not in team games, where students would pick through the class one by one, and Regulus would be one of the last few standing.

Not by his friends, who all would chose their partners, or the other people in the group first. He joined last, it’s only fair.

Not even by the lizard who inhabits his dorm room, who picks the three other boys to crawl over to first, every time.

And certainly not by James.

He thought, for once, the cycle might be broken. He thought, for once, someone would pick him first. He’d get chosen over someone else, just once.

He should have known better.

He should have known that the moment Sirius found out about he and James sneaking around in dark corridors and whispering sweet words to each other, James would have to pick.

He was foolish to think James would pick him over Sirius. He was foolish to think that James would pick him over anyone.

And as Lily, with her fiery red hair pulled back into braids, comes marching over to the boys, snatching James up by his collar and earning herself a cheek kiss, Regulus realises he should have seen that coming too.

Not even two weeks has passed since Regulus placed second to his brother, as he does in fucking everything, and James has already moved on.

Regulus would never be anyone’s first choice, he should have known better.

He knows better now.

It’s not until three months later that Regulus finally shatters from it. The crushing weight of never being enough, never being someone’s first choice.

It’s Slytherin against Ravenclaw for the quidditch cup, and there in the crowd, he spots his brother and James.

They’re decked out in silver and blue, and they don’t look at Regulus, not even once.

Barty finds him in the showers, once the entire teams cleared out. He’s dressed in a confusing mix of blue and green, for his own house and his friends.

Hes crying. Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever cried this hard before. The water is pouring down over his head, and he’s still fully dressed in his uniform.

Slytherin lost. He lost them the match, because he was more focused on trying to catch James or Sirius looking his way just once than getting the snitch. They didn’t, and he lost.

Barty clearly doesn’t know how to handle this. The lowest he’s ever seen Regulus would have been prior to an exam he stressed himself out about. Besides, Barty has always been a little awkward when handling emotions.

Regulus tries to tell him to leave him be, he really does. But his words get all chocked up in his throat and he can’t get out much more than a wail or a sob. It fucking hurts.

“What’s the matter, Black?” Barty asks, switching the water off before crouching down in front of him, “What’s got your knickers in a twist, hey?”

“I-I’ll never be… good enough.” Regulus confesses. He’s never said it out loud before. He’s not a vulnerable person, he doesn’t do this. He knows better than to let out his sob story to someone, they can hold it over him one day. But he can’t help himself, he finds. He needs to get it off his chest before it rips him open, “I’ll never… b-be enough.”

Barty’s silent for a while, clearly unsure of what to say. It only makes Regulus sob more. He pulls his knees up to his chest and hides his head in his hand, and he fucking cries. He’s sure if anyone’s still out side, they’d hear it, but Barty locked the door when he came in. At least that’s something.

“I can never be enough.” Regulus sobs again, and this time Barty kicks into action.

He’s still awkward about it, Regulus can tell, he probably has better things to do than listen to Regulus cry as well, which only makes this worse. He pushes Regulus’ sopping hair out of his face and pats his face dry with the end of his Slytherin scarf before hauling them both to their feet.

“Who told ya that?” Barty asks, pulling his wand out to try his hand at a drying spell. It mostly works, so Regulus can’t complain.

“I don’t have to be told something to know it, Barty.” Regulus sniffles, wiping his eyes. They sting, and he knows he looks terrible, but there’s no use in worrying about that now.

“Well… I think, if you haven’t been told, it can’t be true.” Barty shrugs, tucking his wand back in his pocket.

“Fine.” Regulus nods, “My entire fucking family has told me then, on several occasions.”

“Oh.” Barty stills, and he has a look on his face of utter confusion.

Regulus shakes his head and goes to walk for the door, but he winces when he puts pressure on his ankle. He fell on it weirdly, midway through the match when he was knocked off his broom. It didn’t bother him before, but it does now.

“You hurt?” Barty asks, and Regulus nods.

Silently, Barty reaches out and wraps his arm around Regulus’ waist. He flinches at first, startled by the slightly intimate touch, but then Barty pulls Regulus to shift his weight, and he relaxes into it a little. Together, they walk back across the field, Barty carrying Regulus’ broom, and half of Regulus’ weight, and make their way back to the castle.

It’s oddly silent.

It’s always quiet, between them. Regulus isn’t much of a talker, and when Barty runs out of stupid things to say he goes quiet and people watches. He usually watches Regulus, since they’re always together, something that took a while to get used to. Barty really likes to watch Regulus read, it makes him a little self conscious of any strange expressions he might be making.

But it’s a strange sort of quiet now. It’s silent. Regulus isn’t talking, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he feels ashamed for breaking down like that. He doesn’t just break down. Men don’t fucking break down. Especially not in front of people like that. He feels embarrassed that Barty found him.

Well, he’s grateful it was Barty over anyone else, seeing as though they’re supposed to be close friends, Merlin forbid Sirius found him. But it’s still uncomfortable.

The only friend any of them have that likes to talk about feelings is Pandora. Regulus assumed this was because she was a girl, at first, however, Dorcas doesn’t like talking about them either. Pandoras just strange like that, she cares about people in odd ways. Sometimes it’s nice, but mostly it’s terrifying.

Barty looks like he wants to talk. He also looks like he wants to watch Regulus, but every time he turns his head to do so he probably sees the red rimming of Regulus’ eyes and finds something much uglier than usual. It only makes Regulus feel all the more ashamed.

Barty starts whistling. It’s not his regular noise filling whistles either, it’s his uncomfortable whistling. He doesn’t want to be here, Regulus can tell. Merlin, he needs to get away.

“Going back to your dorm?” Barty asks as they round a corridor in the castle.

Regulus nods, “Is Evan-“

“He’s there.” Barty says, “Cas too… dunno about Dora, she’s always off with the fairies. If she’s not hugging Dorcas about their loss then I dunno where she is.”

Regulus goes tense, “I don’t want them to see me.”

Barty stops and swallows, “Okay… how about my dorm then? My roommates are all down by the lake. They snagged some firewhisky.”

“Okay.” Regulus agrees, because he has no where else to go.

Once settled in Barty’s dorm, Regulus changes into more comfortable clothes. Plaid pyjama pants and a green knitted sweater he knows is his own that went “missing” last year. He doesn’t question it, Barty’s strange like that. He likes to collect things, and especially Regulus’ things.

They’re both sitting on his bed, Regulus tucked up under the covers and Barty sitting on the other end. He’s flipping through one of his dorm mates magazines and whistling to himself, his regular whistling again. It calms Regulus a bit.

Lying there, stuck with his own thoughts, he can’t hide from the images that pop into his mind every time he closes his eyes. All of Sirius and James, all of them examples where Regulus placed last.

There’s so many it’s hard to filter out which ones are new and which ones are old.

They all hurt just the same.

“Whatcha crying about now?” Barty asks, looking over at Regulus. He didn’t even realise he was crying again, but he is. “Did I do something wrong? I’ll fix it, whatever. Get ya whatever you need, promise.”

“You didn’t do anything.” Regulus sniffles, rolling onto his back to look up at the ceiling. Barty’s stuck posters up there, muggle ones of girls on motorcycles and punk bands, just to piss off his dad. “I’m just…”

“Go on.” Barty asks, sitting up now, cross legged and attentive. “There’s no one here, just me. Promise I’ll never tell.”

Regulus sighs and fiddles with his fingers, “I don’t need your pity, Barty. I’ve survived this long, I can survive some more.”

“Yeah, but you’re crying.” He says, and Regulus glares at him. “What? I ain’t seen you cry before, it’s weird. I know it’s really gotta be botherin ya if you’re crying like this. What would Dora say?”

“She’d probably try to hug me and make me cry more.” Regulus offers.

“Do you want… me to- uhm, hug you?”

“No.” Regulus glares at him. “I don’t want your pity, I said.”

“It’s not my pity, Regulus!” Barty splutters, “It’s a bloody hug. Dora says there really good for ya! I love her hugs, you know. Get ‘em all the time. I- I know I’m no Pandora but… I mean, I can offer ya a real bony one.”

Regulus snickers and looks back up at the roof, “No thanks. That’s weird.”

“Is it?” Barty asks, “Cause… cause I’ve been listening to what she’s sayin and… I think it would be nice.”

“If I hugged you right now?” Regulus raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah… and other times.” Barty shrugged, “I dunno, might be dumb but… we’re supposed to be friends, ya know? Friends hug. Cas hates ‘em, unless they’re from Dora, but Evan and I hug sometimes.”

“You’re being weird.”

“I’m not trying to.” Barty frowned, “I just… I care about you, I suppose.”

Regulus swallowed. The only person who’s said that before has been Pandora, but she cares about everyone.

Barty… well, he doesn’t care about much at all. He cares about so little, that Regulus thought the only thing he probably cared about was pissing off his dad and Pandora herself. But apparently that’s not true.

Regulus doesn’t want to believe it. He doesn’t want to hurt himself by believing that he could be one of the very few things Barty has come to care about.

But they’re friends, and Barty watches him a lot, and collects Regulus’ things, and helps him when he cries, and offers to hug him.

Now Regulus is crying for a whole other reason.

“One hug?” Barty offers, sticking out his arms, “I’ll make it so quick and if you hate it we don’t ever have to do it again.”

Regulus contemplates it. He doesn’t remember the last time he was hugged.

He knows the last good one was Pandora, maybe last year, when they were leaving for summer. Quick and carefree. The last bad one, that was James. Not that it was bad at the time, but it hurts to think about now. It was false stability and ended in heartbreak. The last time he was hugged to be soothed though? His mind takes him back to Sirius, when they were still little.

“Fine.” Regulus mutters, sitting up under the covers, “But make it quick.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Barty nods and moves in, “Sorry if I’m uncomfortable.”

Regulus nods and sits very still as Barty wraps himself around Regulus’ shoulders. It’s awkward, to say the least. They’ve never done this before, and they’re going about it very strangely.

“Reg… you gotta relax a bit.”

“How am I supposed to relax when I have a boney man attached to me?”

Barty scoffs and squeezes him a little tighter, “Just put your head on my shoulder, orrite. Relax, just for a second.”

Regulus huffs but does it anyway. He leans his head over to rest on Barty’ shoulder and drops his own, and… oh, it’s nice. It’s actually really, really nice. Barty’s soothing his back, and twisting his finger around the end of Regulus’ hair. And it’s nice.

He can’t even feel Barty’s ribs poking him or anything. It’s really, really cosy.

Regulus pushes him away, wiping his tears.

Barty gives him a guilty smile, “Terrible?”

“No.” Regulus sniffles, “It was actually grossly nice.”

Barty snickers and nods his head, “Well, if you ever need another hug, I’ll give ya as many as ya kneed.”

“Thanks.”

“No problems, Black.”

Regulus fiddles with the ends of his sleeve, refusing to look up at Barty, who he knows is sitting there and staring. He’s so quiet, when he stares. It’s as if any noise Barty makes would ruin his ability to set his full attention solely on Regulus.

It’s so strange. He’s so strange.

“You can’t tell anyone.” Regulus mumbles.

“What, that we hugged?” Barty laughs.

“No.” He scoffs, “What I said before, wanker. In the showers.”

“Oh.” Barty nods, “Well, I wasn’t gonna anyway. Course not, Reg. I know you. I know you hate people knowing your business.”

Regulus nods, “You really wouldn’t have told anyone? Not even Dora?”

“Cross my heart.” Barty smiles, doing just that, “I know she’s my best friend, but you are too. It means something, you know?”

“Oh.” Regulus mumbles.

Barty can only laugh at him, and Regulus turns a little pink.

“Can I… no, don’t worry about it.”

“No, go on.” Barty offers, “It’s just you and me.”

Regulus sighs, “I just… I’m tired of not being good enough, Barty.”

“I dunno what you mean, Black. You’re bloody brilliant.” Barty says, flopping down on his back like a starfish, “You shoulda been in Ravenclaw with your smarts, and not to mention your skills as a seeker. You’re top of the class, Reggie, course you’re good enough.”

Regulus thinks Barty will never understand how much that singular sentence fucking means to him, even if he tries to explain it. It stings, how good it feels to hear it. He never has. Not once.

“Not just in school, Barty. Everywhere else.” Regulus mumbles, wiping his teary eyes. They’re stinging again, and he really doesn’t want to cry, but he knows he will. It’s so stupid. “Everything else. I’m just…”

Barty rolls onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look at Regulus, “Like, with your family?”

Regulus nods, chewing on a hangnail.

“Yeah, I get that.” Barty sighs, “Is this about… those who must not be named?”

Regulus closes his eyes to compose himself, and nods again.

“Right.” Barty says, “Did Sirius do something? You know he barked at me the other day, like a fucking dog. So I’ll go hex him, happily, if you want?”

“No, Barty. Don’t.” Regulus shook his head, “He didn’t… I… they both just…”

“Go on.” Barty said softly, softer than Regulus has ever heard him speak before as he slowly sits up to get level with him.

“I’ll always be second best.” Regulus mutters, and then he starts crying again. Hot tears down his cheeks, redness in his eyes, stuttering over himself as he shakes.

“Oh, Reg…”

“He- he just picked James, over his own blood brother. Every time it’s James and… and I… and James just… I loved him. I loved him Barty, I was in love with him. I think part of me still is, but… he, he picked Sirius too. He picked Sirius, and Lily, because she’s just… she’s so pretty, and smart, and she’s got everything that I’ve got but, she’s just… she’s just so much better.” Regulus heaved, pressing a hand to his chest, “Everywhere, I see it everywhere. Not just with them, but mostly, I- I’ll never… I’ve never been someone’s first choice, Barty. Ever. And I don’t think I ever will be. No one picks me just because they can.”

His shoulders shake as he cries, his breath short and stuttered. When Barty reaches out in offer for another hug, Regulus falls forward into his arms, head pressed against his friends chest.

It feels so safe there, to be cradled in Barty’s arms, it’s warm. He cries a puddle through his sweater, but Barty doesn’t seem to mind.

“Shh, Reggie.” Barry sooths, lightly scratching his nails over Regulus’ back and sifting his fingers through his hair. “Just breathe, love. Just breathe.”

Regulus follows his command, taking deep breaths and timing them with the rise and fall of Barty’s chest beneath his head. He relaxes there, letting his eyes fall shut, and Barty continues to rub his back and play with his hair.

“I’m so tired.” Regulus mumbles through the last of his tears, “I’m going to fall asleep if you keep doing that.”

“That’s okay.” Barty laughs softly, “How about we lie down?”

“Isn’t that weird?” Regulus asks.

“Isn’t everything I do weird?”

Regulus shrugs and follows when Barty pulls him down to lay against the pillows. Barty slips under the covers with him, and pulls Regulus’ head against his chest again. Bartys heart is beating faster than it should be, but Regulus ignores it and wiggles around until he’s comfortable.

Once again, Barty strokes his back and scratches his scalp, and folds himself into Regulus a little.

He presses a little kiss to the top of Regulus’ head, and his heartbeat speeds up rapidly.

Regulus tenses, “Why is your heart beating like that, Barty? Are you okay? Did I make you uncomfortable?” He questions, already coming up with a million terrible reasons for it. He’s been so stupidly selfish about his own problems he didn’t even notice how uncomfortable he’s made his supposed best friend.

“No…” Barty half follows as Regulus sits up, leaning back on his elbows, “No, Reg. Obviously not.”

Regulus’ shoulders relax a little, “Well, then what is it?”

Barty looks away, “Come on, don’t tease, Reggie. I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not teasing.” He shakes his head, “What’s the problem?”

“There’s no problem, obviously.” Barty snickers, “Come on, we can just… we can forget about it by tomorrow if it’s weird.

“What’s weird, Crouch?” Regulus pressed, “I don’t understand.”

Barty looked at him for a moment, eyebrows drawn together in the middle, and his mouth slowly fell open, “You don’t know?”

“Know what?” Regulus asked.

“About me…”

“About you… what?” Regulus shook his head.

“About…” Barty sighed, shaking his head in delirium. He laughed, at himself, mostly, which only confused Regulus more, “Everyone said it was obvious. I just thought we both… I thought we had an understanding. That we’d both ignore it and go on with our lives.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Barty?” Regulus asked, shoving at his chest.

“Oi!” Barty snickered, “That I… well… I thought you knew you’d be my first choice for everything.”

Regulus froze, scowling at him for a moment, “Don’t tease-“

“Not teasing, Reggie.” Barty looked away, taking a short breath. “Look, if it’s… if it’s too weird, I get it. But, I’m okay pretending, if you want.”

“P-pretending?” Regulus whispered.

“Yeah.” He shrugged, sitting up and loosely hugging his knees, “Pretending I’m not in love with you.”

Regulus didn’t have an answer for that. He was truely wound speechless. Barty… loves him?

“I meant it… I’d pick- I’d pick you over everything else in this world. I really mean it, Reggie. I promise.” Barty mumbled, “You’re my first pick, always have been.”

Regulus’ heart stops in his chest for a moment. His throat hurts and his eyes sting again. Regulus doesn’t think he’s cried as much as he has today through his entire life, including when he was a baby.

He can’t help it, crying again. Because Regulus believes him. Barty’s always been devastatingly honest, even at the worst of times. So why would he lie about this? And he looks so earnest, sounds it too. He sounds like he really, truely means it.

No ones ever picked Regulus first, besides Barty Crouch Jr, who has a collection of Regulus’ things, and who stares at him unashamedly, and consoles Regulus when he cries even if it makes him uncomfortable.

And Regulus has been too self centred to ever notice.

But Barty is in love with him, and by the sounds of it he has been for a while. Apparently everyone knows it.

He thinks about it for a moment, while he sobs and cries and heaves. Barty does all that he can to soothe him, reaching out to wipe away tears, and hold him, and rub his arms and back.

Regulus doesn’t think he’s ever felt as safe as he doesn’t when he’s around Barty. Which is an odd thing to realise, because Barty is kind of a loose cannon. He’s violent, and angry, and snarky and rude. But with Regulus he’s always… well, he’s funny, and he can still be a little rude sometimes, but he’s also kind and generous and a little odd.

Regulus now realises all that oddness he’s noticed is just things Barty does that signals he’s in love with him. But Regulus has never noticed, he’s never looked to see how Barty doesn’t do all these very things with other people.

He’s Barty’s first choice.

And now that he thinks of it, Barty might just be his.

He’s the only person Regulus trusts to see him like this. Not even Pandora could, as much as he loves her. Regulus just hates being vulnerable. But he supposed it’s a little different with Barty, because he’s always been a little vulnerable with Regulus.

It’s comforting, to say the least, to have confirmation that he’s wanted. That he’s cared for. That he’s somebodies first choice.

And Barty loves him, which is strange. He’s never looked at Barty in that way before. And sure, Barty makes plenty of jokes about finding Regulus fit and wanting to snog him and so on and so forth, but he’s never thought too deeply about it.

He does that with other people, doesn’t he?

Now that Regulus thinks about it, he definitely doesn’t do it as much as he does it to Regulus.

Barty pulls away, rubbing up and down Regulus’ biceps, as he gives a nervous smile. It’s crooked, like most of Barty’s smiles, but this time Regulus really notices it.

“I’m sorry if it’s weird, I dunno what to do, Reggie.” Barty tries, “How do I stop you crying?”

Regulus sniffled and blinked his tears away slowly, refusing to cry anymore. His cheeks are all wet and sticky, and his eyes fucking ache, as well as his throat, but he’s not thinking about that.

“Do you really mean that?” Regulus sniffles, and he blinks away a few more tears, “Me being your first choice?”

“Of course, why would I lie about that, Reg. It clearly means a lot to you- I just… I thought you knew.”

Regulus scrunches up his nose, “Well, why would I cry about how I’m no one’s first choice if I knew I was yours?”

Barty’s quiet for a moment. He retracts his hands and ducks his head to mumble, “I just thought… well I thought I didn’t really matter, at the end of it all.” He shrugged, “I’d do anything for you- I already have, you know, and… I just… I thought you knew. And I thought it didn’t matter to you because… well, I’m the same, I suppose. I don’t think anyone’s picked me first either.”

“You still… even thinking that I just- I just didn’t care about you, or your feelings or… or anything at all, you still…” Regulus scrunched up his nose, ducking his head to catch Barty’s eye, “You still would have picked me first?”

Barty nodded, “Done anything for you.”

“Oh.” Regulus whispered, shaking his head, “Barty…”

“Yeah?” Barty asked, swallowing a large lump in his throat.

Regulus kisses him. No thoughts, no warnings, no nothing at all. He just leans forward and kisses him right on the mouth.

Barty pulls away first, almost immediately, wide eyed and startled, “What the fuck did you do that for?”

“I don’t know.” Regulus muttered, touching his lips, “You just… I… you love me, and… fuck, Barty. You’re my best friend.”

“Yeah.” Barty nodded, there’s water in his eyes now, and Regulus can tell he’s trying to hold it back, “And you just kissed me. Please don’t- don’t do that. I’m… I can’t handle that, Reg. I can handle us being friends, even though it’s driving me mad, but… I just- I can’t-“

“Well, don’t you want to be more?”

“Fucking hell, Regulus.” Barty leers back.

“What?” Regulus scoffs.

“You can’t just fucking… don’t say that.” He shakes his head, taking a moment to compose himself, “Don’t be stupid, orrite. I can’t fucking… I love you, Reggie. I can’t handle… possibilities because I’m just… I’m gonna drive myself crazy thinking about them. And that’s not good.”

“I’ve never had someone love me before, Barty.” Regulus whispers, “I’ve never had someone… I want- I want to chose you too. You’re my best friend, and I already do choose you. But I want to do it more. I want to… please?”

“I don’t understand, Reg.” Barty whispered back.

Regulus took his hand, smoothing his fingers over Barty’s rigid knuckles. They’re rough and scarred, just as they always are. Just as Regulus knows them to be.

“I don’t really either, Barty.” He admits, “I never knew you felt that way, and I’ve never thought about it- you- us. I’ve never thought about us like that before, but I… I can picture it.”

Barty closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I’m not trying to hurt you, Barty. I don’t want to lead you on. I want to try. Don’t you want to try?”

Barty keeps his eyes sealed shut and he shakes his head no, “What happens when you get bored of me? What- what happens when Potter comes crawling back to you? What happens when you realise I’m fucking… more insane than you thought? I’d- don’t tempt me, Regulus, because I meant what I said, I’d do anything for you.” Barty’s breath trembles, “I’d kill him, I’d kill them both. I’d kill all of them, just to make you happy. So you never feel like a second choice to them ever again- I- I mean it, Regulus.”

“I know.” Regulus breaths, and it scares him, what Barty’s saying, because he does know. It’s not just words. But those words aren’t the part that scare him, it’s the fact that he likes it that does. It makes him want. “I know, Barty. And I know that if I hurt you, truly, truly hurt you like this, you’d make my life a living hell. I know.”

“What about Potter?” Barty asks, trying to mask tears of his own, “Don’t you love him?”

“Maybe.” Regulus admits, regretfully so, “But I don’t want to. He’d never… he could never love me the way you could anyway. The way that I need.”

“And how do you need it?”

“To be your first choice.” Regulus whispered, “How do you need it, Barty?”

Barty took a deep breath, thinking about it for a moment. He looked up at Regulus with a pout and hopeful eyes, “I just want to be good enough for love before anything else.”

Regulus smiles, “You are.”

Barty shakes his head.

“You are.” Regulus confirms, “To me, you are.”

Barty sniffles, “Do you love me… like that?”

Regulus sighs, “N… no.” He scolds himself for the truth, because it seems to shatter Barty’s heart to pieces. “But I want to, Barty… I want to love you the way you do me. And I think I will. You just have to let me.”

“Really?” Barty sobs.

Regulus nods, “Will you let me?”

Barty nods and leans back in, and Regulus kisses him again. They both had wet cheeks, and headaches, and heartaches from crying, but they kiss anyway. And Regulus cries again, for hopefully the last time, because Barty kisses like he never wants to stop.

Regulus has never been kissed like that before.

Regulus has never been loved before.

He thinks with Barty, he might just be enough.

★ ★ ★

Bartylus shippers unite.

This one’s so angsty I’m sorry but I can’t help it and yerr Reggie kinda has misogynistic views which is gross but it’s the fucking 70’s and look at his parents. I USUALLY write them all to be better than that and not arseholes but I wanted to make this one hurt.

Also I don’t think I’ve written from Reggie’s pov before sooooo that was interesting.

Idk I liked this. Let me know your thoughts :)

Read here on ao3

If you want to read more of my stuff you can find it all here :))

Tagging everyone that expressed interest in the angsty bartylus one shot lmao: @lapassemirroir @mayflywrites @garlicbread4ever @moonyluv-s @managingmischeif @stxr-bxy @the-lionsheart @crimsonlovebartylus

[oneluckydragon]

got hit with the echo+sora brainrot so i am once more rambling in your askbox about it. because reasons.

anywho i think there is something truly saddening about echo's struggles to make peace within herself and how she truly finds it hard to find that peace when she is so certain that if the truth about her origins were to be revealed to the world, much less to *sora*, everything she achieved, everything she worked for, all of which matters to her most, will crumble away in a moment's notice.

but the fear of losing all your life's work is none compared to the fear of losing sora. the feeling of poison that settled itself within themselves and between each other out of fear and tragedy of what had happened to them is familiar. echo's resemblance to dusknoir was already enough to set the two off because of how much it had all hurt to see someone you love and yourself turn into a mockery and a splitting image of someone who had pretended to care yet showed he never did at all, but this poison is louder. it hurts to bare, to carry, and to have none but yourself to be its sole holder.

but this poison, this feeling of heartache is different. because whereas the previous pain was something both of them felt, sora was lucky enough to not have known the truth about the person who she cares for so dearly.

echo knows that she used to be darkrai. and it haunts her to have known that her previous incarnation was so *cruel*, all for the sake of it just feeling right. wishing to engulf an entire world in darkness, solely for whatever desire she used to have.

and for how much she knows, how much she will hammer it into her own head that she is *not* like that anymore, that she looks at her past with sneer and disgust and that she will not be the barer of evil anymore, it will not matter in the slightest when she will have to look at sora if she were to ever find out.

how afraid, angry and dejected she would look when finding out, and how she will go on the defense/offense because of how much this will overwhelm her.

because when echo looks at her own shadow, she sees herself for what she is. she knows what she is, be it out of shame or guilt.

but when sora will look at it, she will see a tall, contorting and menacing shadow, towering over with a bright cyan eye doing nothing but looking at her, as if tempting her to make the next move.

and she defends herself. from someone she knows will not harm her. she raises her arms up in self defense from a hand that would never hurt her more than the world has already did.

she knows echo will not hurt her. and thats why she is afraid.

Oh my oh my OH MY, Sinnoh!!! YES YES YES!

HOW!!! IN THE WORLD!!! Are you so good at crawling into my head and creating these vivid analysis/snippets on my OCs??? I've barely shared ANY information about Echo and Sora because I've been wanting to hoard most of my stuff for when my fic is finally finished... but... I think you've broken my resolve a bit, if I'm entirely honest.

You know what? I'm so inspired by your accuracy and eagerness to talk about my girls that I'm gonna forgo my crippling anxiety regarding my writing skills and instead post a snippet of my WIP fic here as a treat for you. A teaser, if you will. Since I have no idea when the fic in question will actually be done and ready (or when I will be satisfied with it, cause the thing is currently 36,000 words and still slowly climbing). And now you've got me eager to share SOMETHING of my fic with you and anyone that might want to take a peek at it.

Please enjoy this conversation between Dusknoir and Echo. The topic deals a lot with what you'd described up above!! c:

[Note: this is an unedited part of my fic because I am still in the process of writing and it may change in the future, so please be gentle w/ me but I'd love to read any thoughts/comments that pop up while reading!! pls send asks or replies or anything really cause I love you guys]

+++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++ +++

“I’m going to tell you something now, and you are going to listen.” Echo commands with a sharp bite in her voice that Dusknoir cannot fathom ignoring. He pauses and then offers a slow nod, waiting, wondering what she could possibly desire to tell him at a time like this, of all things.

Minutes pass as Echo remains rooted in place, still as her own shadow, and her eyes dart around as she stares at the patches of dry grass and sand beneath her paws. Her claws clench and unclench, digging into the earth like daggers as the wind of the forest (it’s trees so close, just behind them, a looming sort of presence that could engulf them whole) whistles through the surrounding branches, carrying stray leaves of many bright greens through the chilling breeze. Dusknoir watches them dance around Echo, twirling, floating down, down, down… but it’s quiet, too quiet, and Dusknoir feels a shiver pass through him when Echo’s voice finally rings out through the silence.

"When I evolved, Sora was petrified," She says, nearly a whisper, an admission that melts away her confidence and appears to bring her a flood of both shame and regret. Her face twists up then, strangely, like she’d felt a twinge of pain from somewhere deep inside the very fabric of her own soul and was unable to quell it. "She couldn’t even bring herself to look at me most days. At first, my appearance… well, it reminded her too much of you. And eventually of someone I used to be.”

Someone I used to be. At that, Dusknoir’s immediate reaction is to recall Echo’s previous life as a human, as the miserable shell of a creature surviving alongside Grovyle that he’d relentlessly hunted in the dark future. A human made of contempt and anger and apathy, who never smiled or laughed or cried or screamed like the old legends said humans would-- an entity that simply existed rather than lived. An echo of a life long dead and buried. But, judging by her tone, by her voice, by some uneasy intuition itching in the back of his mind like a swarm of pestilent Ninjask… he knows that she means something else entirely. Something that she isn’t willing to share. And frankly, that concept utterly terrifies him.

Someone I used to be. Dusknoir wants to speak, to break his own silence, wants to ask the myriad of questions bubbling up in his throat because this isn't the first time she's hinted at another life beyond being human, but those questions die at the source like a flame doused in water. And always the coward, coward, coward, instead he takes the easy way out by doing nothing at all. Whether Echo notices his surge of inner conflict or not-- the nervous wring of his hands and the tremble in his spine that he cannot control under her gaze-- she does not react.

“I’d take a step and Sora would flinch away.” Echo confesses, her markings flickering with light before going dark and dead, as if her body wished to snuff them out entirely, a deep seated rejection, a self-loathing so strong that Dusknoir cannot help but recognize it and empathize, and his heart aches, “It took ages for her to stop shaking when I’d speak. To stop looking at me like-- like I was going to…” 

Echo grimaces like she’s enduring waves of grueling torture and doesn’t finish that string of thought, but it’s not hard to make an educated guess on what went unsaid. Like I was going to betray her. Hurt her. Break her heart. She’s been through so much already and I couldn’t bear to be another influence in the history of her suffering. I hate myself because of how I made her feel. When her eyes went wide in fear and through them I could see myself staring back like some sort of burden, some sort of curse.

“I am not my past.” Proud and true, Echo straightens up and holds her head high, a spark igniting in her eyes, a glint of determination, a will to keep going and going despite such circumstances and strife, despite this horrid, unspeakable past that haunts her so, “And I am definitely not you. It’s taken a while, but I know that much now. I’ve accepted it.”

I am not my past. And I am definitely not you.

A sigh, a breath, and Echo glances at him with a certain sorrow that cannot be described, a sorrow that lingers even through the veil of her tenacity, "But no matter how I feel, no matter my conviction, my shadows still find ways through the cracks. Every time I think I'm getting a grip and that I might finally understand myself… I change all over again." She admits, sounding more angry and tired than defeated now-- like a mirror of her old self, her human self that had clawed and damned and cursed him, despised him more than anything. "I hate it. I hate that I never truly know who I am. That I have to learn about my past through stories others tell me, or through fragments of twisted, broken memories that I wouldn't wish on anyone. Through conflict and pain and… and..."

"Echo," Dusknoir murmurs her name softly, an offering, a potential escape if only she would wish to drop the subject and forget this conversation had ever happened-- if she'd overstepped and needed an excuse to back out, a diversion, an understanding. And briefly, Dusknoir wonders why she is opening up about this particular information, why she would delve into something so vulnerable, so personal. Why she would bring up this hurtful history when it obviously brings her great discomfort.

And then, he gets an answer.

“You’re lucky, Dusknoir." There it is, that wildfire burning in her eyes again. A spark that’s new and bold and startling. But lucky? No, never. He'd have to disagree, accounting the mountain of evidence that was his life and regrettable deeds.

"You already know exactly who you are and what you’ve done, and most importantly why. You have more than a tattered picture of yourself that reflects broken answers. And you can change with that knowledge. I see you trying.” She tells him, searching, looking for something so deeply and Dusknoir wishes he knew what it could be so that he could give it to her, because he would, he would gladly give it to her without a second thought if it meant they could be close again. But he isn’t a fool, and he’s wise enough to know they’ll never be like they were before. “And if somehow I could change, even as half-assed as I have. Well, then what’s your excuse?”

You can do it, say her unspoken words, I believe in you.

[katartna]

Song of Frosted Light ❄️🕊️

[arttsuka]

post oc lore king/queen !!

😭 I don't really have lore tbh, mostly vibes. Everything is too underdeveloped for lore

I have vague ideas of what I want my ocs to be.

For example, I want to put these guys in a 'time travel' kinda situation, where a murder takes place (that phone guy, who was the only one who knew how to help them get back in their time).

The only thing worse than their designs are the names

[orcelito]

Considering the. Ahem. Ways this year has gone, I've not been thinking about it all that much, but. I did start this year with the motto of Year Of Unfucking My Life. With a few goals involved in that.

I got an official adhd diagnosis, as well as a diagnosis for PCOS. Other diagnoses in progress. Gotten adhd meds and birth control to regulate periods. I've gone back to school and I'm keeping up with it better than ever before. I've even been working on practicing driving, something I've been largely neglecting since I first got my driving permit, um... 11 years ago...

I just need to actually Get my license. And I need to get it before the end of the year. If I can accomplish that, then I'll say the Year Of Unfucking My Life was successful.

[uncanny-tranny]

I'm still thinking about how ashamed I was (and am) with being open about my pain because I am so young. It's so hard to feel worthy of having your pain taken seriously when the people around you insist that young bodies are always in pristine, untouched condition and that you must earn your pain through aging. Never is it considered that young people aren't lying or being a hypochondriac for expressing their pain.

Young people can be in life-altering pain. Young people can have debilitating pain. It doesn't matter what age it happens because pain doesn't discriminate. Complaining about pain and doing things to prevent needless pain aren't something you have to "earn" through aging.

If you want young people to be in less or lesser pain, then encourage them to do whatever they can to minimize it. Don't downplay what they're experiencing. Not everything is a lie, not every experience that is different than yours is exaggeration or deceit.

[tsukikoayanosuke]

Kero, Kero, Ganbatte, Tsukasa-kun! - Ruikasa Week 2024

Day 2: First Date

(ft. Sanrio collab & mentioned of Zozotown 1)

Today Tenma Tsukasa was in panic.

Shocking truly. To think that the great Tenma Tsukasa, future star, partner of Keroppi, and owner of the Rainy Frog Cafe, managed to get himself in such peril was something out of this world. 

And what is this so-called 'peril' you might ask?

This answer was straightforward really: he has a date in just fifteen minutes with one Kamishiro Rui.

Keroppi didn't really understand it at first. He had seen Tsukasa and Rui hanging around together. Ever since Rui and Hangyodon finally moved into the lighthouse by the coast, he has been visiting the cafe for breakfast and lunch. To say Tsukasa and Rui connect right off the bat was an understatement. It was as if they were always friends since tadpoles.

"They're great together, aren't they?" Hangyodon said before slurping the noodles he ordered.

Keroppi turned to him. "They are good friend."

Hangyodon shook his head. "More."

"More?"

"More."

Keroppi looked back at Rui and Tsukasa. Rui had his telescope in his hand and he chattered animatedly about the recent marine life he came up during his daily sail. Tsukasa meanwhile didn't say anything only listening with an elbow on his counter and chin on his palm, staring at Rui with a familiar gentle gaze. Keroppi only had seen that gentleness aimed toward his siblings, Saki and Touya. But…

Keroppi squinted.

Now that he looked closer…it wasn't the same. 

There’s adoration. Longings.

Love.

"Oh."

"Yep. Oh." Hangyodon spoke like he had realized it a long time ago. He did mention that Rui often made silly faces when rambling about Tsukasa, so it wouldn't be a surprise to him. Tsukasa also often talks about Rui, but Keroppi always thought it was about friendship. He kinda felt bad for not realizing it sooner.

That was why a few days later he decided to do a good deed for the both of them.

"You two should go out on a date sometimes." It was just a simple sentence, but it managed to make Rui spit his milkshake like they were in a cartoon.

"Keroppi!" Tsukasa yelled, high-pitched. More embarrassed than angry. "Where did that come from?!"

"You like each other, right?" Rui coughed. Tsukasa squeaked. Hangyodon nodded in agreement. "So, you should date at least once."

"You can't just say that!" Tsukasa pulled and squeezed his cheeks.

"I..." Rui cleared his throat. "I don't mind."

"E-Eh?" Tsukasa turned to him. "Y-You don't?"

Rui let out a flustered chuckle. "I would love to go on a date with Tsukasa."

"A--a-a-a-a-ahhhh ha ha HA HA HAHAHA" Tsukasa's cheeks were still bright red, but he managed to put his hands on his hips in an attempt to pull his usual pose. "Alright then!" He pointed at Rui. "Be prepared for the most exciting d-date in your life, Rui!"

Rui giggled. "I can't wait."

Which brought us to today with Tsukasa working his way to burn the carpet below him with his back and forth.

"You'll be fine, Tsukasa!" Keroppi said from his nightstand. "Rui would never be mad at you."

"But it has to be perfect, Keroppi!" Tsukasa yelled, more to himself than to his frog partner. His pacing somehow became even faster. "What if I screw up? What if Rui became so embarrassed that he didn't want to go out with me anymore? What if other people see us and laugh and then Rui doesn't want to go out with me anymore? What if I say something bad? What if I hurt his feelings? What if he enjoys none of this? What if-"

"Tsukasa!" Keroppi leaped and landed on Tsukasa's head, forcing him to stop.

He leaned down and stared at his human straight in the eyes despite being upside down. "You'll be fine. The fact that you're worrying means that you really care about Rui. There's no way Rui would leave you if this something turns bad, just like how I know you won't leave Rui."

Tsukasa went silent for a few seconds before sighing. "I just... I just want him to be happy with me."

"And he will." Keroppi patted Tsukasa's forehead. "Rui cares about you. Hangyodon told me so."

"He does?"

"Really, really does."

Tsukasa sighed and smiled. "Thanks, Keroppi." Which he answered with a double nod. "Okay..." Tsukasa slapped his cheeks twice, wincing at how hard he accidentally hit before shaking his head. "Okay. Keroppi, roll check!"

"Yes, Sir!" The frog leaped toward the desk where the long list had been placed. He picked up a pen. "Flower?"

"Check!" Tsukasa picked up the bouquet of vervain, masterworks, and hypericum erectum.

"Ticket to the movie?" 

"Check!" Tsukasa took out two tickets from his pocket and put it back.

"Hair and glasses?"

Tsukasa hair was fluffier. He usually uses gel to straighten up, but Rui requested not to use it for today to 'see Tsukasa-kun's authentic self'. The same goes with the contact lenses, instead preferring to the glasses. "Check! And check!"

"Coat?"

Tsukasa pulled out a coat and with a twirl, he put it on. "Check!"

"You're all set!" Keroppi then leaped into Tsukasa's coat pocket for one last look at the mirror: white collared top underneath a brown vest coat, along with the checkered outer coat, green pants, and white shoes. It wasn't like anything Tsukasa would wear, more mellow and elegant than his eccentric waiter uniform.

Tsukasa fixed his hair once again, mostly to calm himself before taking a deep breath. "Alright. I'm ready."

"You can do it!" Keroppi cheered, hands in the air. 

Tsukasa giggled and patted his partner. As he looked at the clock, his eyes widened. "Crap! We're going to be late!"

It was still 30 minutes away from the agreed-upon time, but Keroppi would let it slide.

*****

Tsukasa and Rui agreed to meet up by the fountain at the town square. Rui had arrived, already sitting on the edge with Hangyodon on his knees. Keroppi could see the fish creature reach his hand to pat Rui's cheeks, a gesture of reassurance. Rui let out a chuckle but his foot didn't stop tapping. Could it be that Rui was nervous as well? Huh. Curious.

"Rui!" Tsukasa shouted as he ran toward him. In response, Rui immediately stood up as Hangyodon leaped into his satchel. There was a blush on Rui's cheek and a wobbly smile from nervousness.

"You came, Tsukasa-kun." Like Tsukasa, Rui was dressing fancy: a green jacket over a brown top and red tie, brown pants, and shoes.

"Of course, I came! There's no way I'm breaking my own words!" Tsukasa grinned. Keroppi tapped Tsukasa's, a signal. "O-Oh." And the shyness returned as Tsukasa offered his bouquet. "For you..."

"O-Oh..." Rui took the flower, blush became more apparent. "My favorites."

"Of course they are." Tsukasa cleared his throat. "So. Are you ready to go?" And Rui nodded in response.

Nobody was really talking during the walk which was strange in Keroppi's opinion. The two were the 'weirdo combo' of the town, yet here they are, not 'weird'-ing out. It seemed like Hangyodon also noticed this as he tapped Rui's hand. When the purplenette noticed him, Hangyodon tapped his fins together. Rui blinked, glanced at Tsukasa, then back at Hangyodon with a blush. Hangyodon tapped Rui's hand again as if pushing it to touch Tsukasa's. Rui mouthed, "I know, I know!" before looking back at Tsukasa who was ignorant of his turmoil.

"T-Tsukasa-kun."

Tsukasa turned back to him. "Yeah?"

"Umm..." Rui averted his gaze. Then he reached for Tsukasa's hand, shyly holding it.

Tsukasa was blushing but he squeezed his hand back.

Both of them had the funny smile on their face, but Keroppi and Hangyodon knew they would be fine.