#ut shipping pride month

[nagasriel]

Recent art i made for the best ship !

[ensign-smith]

The U.S.S. Eris wishes you a happy Pride month! Our little corner of the Alpha quadrant is better with you in it.

Kol-Ut-Shan -- Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations

(Background: norma-2d || Ship: Thomas Marrone)

[judgyknowitall]

UT Shipping Pride Month Day 29: KingDings!

[allesiathehedge]

-- Happily Married --

Memories from left to right: 1- As kid, Alphys used to love Sans's show where he practiced his job as comedian. Here, among the crazy kids, she gets an autograph. 2- First interaction at Core. Getting slowly to know each other, as Sans was training her with some science stuff. 3- Friendship developing. 4- Falling in love. 5- Breakup. 6- They become the same persons we know in Timetale. 7- When the barrier got broken, they tried remedying their relationship. 8- Expecting their first child.

Been meaning to submit this on 7th but I missed it! Agaaain!  “OTL. 

Some of you may remember this previous scene I did last year where Sans proposed to Alphys lol :D 

[loveinthebones]

-I Won’t Say I’m in Love-

Day 29 of UT Shipping Pride Month (oh, look. It’s taken me almost 4 months to the day to complete this list -_-’) and the pairing is KingDings! This pairing absolutely makes me squeal.

This piece is based off of @paranoart‘s Dedicated Scientist/No Fool Universe. The main askblog is @thededicatedscientist. Show ‘em some love!

I hope you enjoy the story.

-I Won’t Say I’m In Love-

He clearly doesn’t know how to take care of himself. Honestly, the King of Monsterkind takes care of everyone BUT himself.

Gaster pinches the bridge of his nasal bone as he grumbled, opening cupboards and shutting them rapidly in quick succession as he searched for what he needed. The counter was littered with various ingredients- the sharp and slight burning of the leafy stalks Asgore favored wafted around him, round tomatoes resting serenely (he chuckled to himself. They were safe from Papyrus’…enthusiastic preparation methods.), and many more.

“If you’re looking for the pots and pans… they are in the right cabinet,” The weak rasp came from behind him and Gaster ignored the heat rising to the surface of his cheek bones as he straightened quickly. “On the top most shelf.”

“…I knew that.” Gaster asserted half-heartedly, waving his hand. “I was just…”

Gaster’s eyes darted to Asgore’s bulky frame leaning against the wall heavily. His mouth tugged down in a deep frown as he took in his majesty’s wobbling knees, the way his fur was slick with sweat and unruly, and the slight wheeze on every exhale.

Honestly. You would think he would take better care of himself.

“You should not be out of bed.” Gaster reprimanded sternly, striding forward with purpose. “To bed with you. I didn’t come all this way—“

“You didn’t come all this way to take care of me.” The sentence was muttered so softly that Gaster barely caught it and his approached slowed. Asgore’s mismatched eyes held that ever present sadness and bottomless pain as he continued. “Why don’t you tell me about the Core? You brought a report, right?”

Gaster’s eyes flicked to the abandoned clipboard flung carelessly on the table.

It had been his original intention to deliver the routine progress report to Asgore but when he had heard the other was sick…

He clutched the lab coat covering his arm for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and straightening his glasses.

“Well, I guess I will have to be your personal attendant for the time being.”

There was a beat of silence as Asgore tilted his head. Gaster crossed his arm across his chest, acutely aware of the blue dusting his cheeks. The King seemed stunned into silence before—

“Wha…?”

“I-I mean it’s obvious, isn’t it?” Gaster fumbled for a moment, turning to the table and swiping the report off of it quickly. “I will be your personal attendant for the day! I am much better suited to…” Gaster trailed off as he realized he had been waving his hands wildly.

Asgore gave a hearty rumble before dissolving into a body quaking cough.

“If you insist, my friend. It has been a while since you have visited.” Gaster could hear the warmth saturating the words and he took a measured inhale. He jumped as a clawed hand landed on his shoulder, sputtering in surprise. “So what shall we do?”

There was a heavy, ominous feeling here.

Asgore stood by the newly added casket with a hand resting on the smooth surface, tremors radiating through his still stained fingers.

Gaster hated the room that seemed to press closer. Gaster hated the coffins.

What he hated the most though…

Asgore lowered his head and clutched his fists. His sobs were muffled but the falling of his trident was not.

Gaster wanted to take away that pain…the burden that was weighing down those shoulders and the tragedies shimmering in gold and azure.

He would do…

“Anything.” Gaster murmured to himself absently.

“Pardon?” Asgore questioned and Gaster crashed back to the present, suddenly aware of just how heavy his majesty was.

“You are going to bed while I make you something to eat.” Gaster huffed haughtily as he wrapped an arm around Asgore’s waist. “You can barely stand! You need to take care of yourself!”

I’ll watch over you.

Asgore didn’t resist as Gaster pulled him along, leaning even more into his Royal Scientist’s side. “Is that what I’m doing?” He teased weakly.

I’m going to find a way to see you smile again.

“Yes. We can chat later. After you sleep. I will make you a magnificent meal, sire."

I will.

The skeleton misses the wobbly, tiny smile the King is sporting.

It isn’t as big as it once was nor very bright but it’s the smoldering of embers laying dormant under mountains of ashes for a long, long time.

A spark.

That necessary spark.

That necessary and precious spark.

[mistyechoes]

i mighttttttt post about my ships and embarrass myself because i don't really have a will to live anymore

[valorousowlart]

The Second Rule is even more important. Never allow your summon to see your face, or if you must, do not meet their eyes. For surely they will steal your soul for their own desires. Never allow a monster to hold your heart, for if you do surely this will be your end. 

It took me two days to finish this, so lets count this for the end of grillstember/grillster pride/shipping month. Finished piece from the Summoner AU. At least I finally know how I want Gaster’s mage robes to look. 

[sidfox]

Nicepants for Pride Month! .v.

[fadedtale]

♦ Golly, it’s been a hot second! This may as well be a bit of a tradition; posting an update whenever a certain game does, huh?

Anyhow;

♦ TL:DR; Underfade/Colorless and its subsequent AUs, as well as the rest of the Undertale blogs under my wings, are in an indefinite hiatus. Should the faded!Frisk AU ever revive, then this blog (fadedtale) will serve as the main hub for it. The original blog will no longer be running at all.

♦ I’m doing great by the way!... but if this little message somehow reaches out to others from this tiny corner of the wide internet, here’s a full report on the status of things;

--

       – UNDERFADE/FADEDTALE RELATED –

❥ Why is fadedtale becoming the main blog for your AUs when you still have the original blog?

♦ Ha ha, it’s quite simple really!

I no longer have access to the original blog.

The email I used for it? I can’t remember it. Any record I have saved for what that email could be is also unfindable?? Please believe me when I say that I have tried near everything I could to try and recover the blog. A solid portion of the time away from this AU is the utter despair I felt not finding any trace of what made that blog in the first place.

Watch me say that and then find the email I need to claw my way back into it. Until then;

Goodbye, Underfade/Colorless It will forever exist as a relic of its time; a personally cringeworthy yet humble seedling for the monstrosity of a brainworm it is even to this day.

❥ Underfade/Colorless, cringeworthy?

♦ Immensely!

Not because it’s an Undertale AU, and not because Undertale is. Undertale is genuinely, unironically, epic and joy inducing -- thus, the work I’ve done for Undertale through these AUs is also joy inducing.

However, as the years have passed, I’ve become increasingly unhappy with how I managed things. I can’t look at that blog without feeling like I’m drinking raw lime juice, ha ha.

On the plus side; I’m happy with how much I’ve grown and changed since the blog’s establishment! That’ll be my overall takeaway... even if my past, not-nearly-as-cool self may forever exist within its own bubble of the internet.

❥ What about your other blogs? 

♦ I have no idea what the fresh hell is happening with my other blogs, as basically the only blog I do have access to still is fadedtale. So... my other UT blogs share the same fate as the original faded!Frisk blog: stasis.

❥ So... what’s the plan? 

♦ Well-!

As much as I want to come back and finish what I started, it has been difficult to find the motivation to.

Between real life, finding myself with real (!) paying (!!) art jobs, getting the therapy and rest I need to in between contract work, surviving 2020 and building myself up to higher heights, there hasn’t been much room at all for these AUs. I cannot guarantee, at all, that I will have the time or energy to return and work/roleplay for this as I once did.

I did think of just writing out at least the Underfade/Colorless AU and putting it someplace like Ao3, either as a series of notes or as a flimsily written fic, with either or being accompanied by the artwork I have accumulated on and off throughout my years’ long hiatus. I’m perpetually on the fence on this front!

Maybe by the time deltarune Ch. 7 is out, we’ll come back to all of this.

--

       – UNDERTALE RELATED –

❥ CIN, CIN, CIN, DELTARUNE CHAPTER 2

♦ YO

WHY DO YOU THINK I’M WRITING THIS STATUS UPDATE. COINCIDENCE??? NO

In all seriousness; deltarune chapter 2 was a delightful and inspirational experience!! The series really is a nostalgic-feeling one. It’s why I keep coming back to it I think, ha ha. I hope everyone’s had a fun time with the new chapter, too!

--

      – GENERAL NEWS –

❥ How’ve things been?

♦ I graduated college! I work as a full-time 2D animator! If you see my name in places, you can go “whoa! That’s a bird!”

I’ve been to weddings, I’ve been to graduations, I’ve been across the country, and I’ve been at home with my loved ones for over a year...

All in all, I’ve been just fine!

❥ What have you been up to lately?

♦ 2D animation contract work, mostly! Being loosely active in my typical haunts, too. I want to say my most active one nowadays is Discord, ha ha.

One of these days, it would be nice to pick up my britches and make my own game or webcomic. My current work in the 2D animation scene is saving up for that sort of dream.

Maybe I’ll see you there! Maybe not. I’ll let you know when deltarune chapter 7 lands.

❥ I want to talk to you! How do I do that?

♦ Echoing my last status update; I’m on Discord! If we don’t share a Discord server or if we haven’t RP’d when I was active, then... whoops.

The next best option is skybluescarf, which is my permanently queue-ing fandom blog. It may take a month or year to see messages from there.

❥ Anything else you want to mention?

♦ Kris, Chara and Frisk all canonically use they/them pronouns 🎉 This is an indisputable canonical fact and I’ve gotten enough therapy to take pride in my assertiveness, which I am exercising right now in order to aggressively stand for this notion.

Anyone who ships these characters with adults are free to take a vacation to hell!

Anyone who ships Cha//risk or any of the human children with Asriel, romantically, can also give me a wide berth. I see them all as friends/siblings and am firmly asserting this as well.

Otherwise, that should be all for now. Thank you all for your time and patience.

I’ll see you all later!

[judgyknowitall]

UT Shipping Pride Month Day 24: Friskid!

[lethe-rpg]

Born Ulysses Davenport, donning half a dozen names across his life but for the most part; favoring the alias ‘Finch’ . For himself. When addressed by others, it’s more a name to him than any other. Which some say makes perfect sense, after all; he’s a shifter that specializes in avian forms. While his past is largely unknown to most, he was born the oldest of five children to a pair of self-titled entrepreneurs. More of a tool than a child, Finch’s first form nurtured with precision and care was that of a Pomeranian. A secret which he vows to take to his grave. A popular breed with those from all walks of life, but most noticeably…the wealthy.  Adorable, fluffy, fur as white as snow with baby blue eyes. Commonly sold time and time again more as an accessory than a pet (loathe as he to admit the times he was as a pet were more warm than any moment with his own flesh and blood). As the foot in the door, to observe and judge; make note of what lay within–it was a con he did so often he could do it in his sleep. His parents would descend and strip the homes of all their worth, and even abscond with the darling puppy itself time and time again. Eventually he learned other animal shapes, always the popular sort and by the time he reached his teen years (joined by several young siblings) he’d mastered three more shapes in the forms of more designer, rare and exotic pets for the 1%. The faces behind the con were posted in the form of a sketched portrait from former victims and passing acquaintances. For all the wealth and luxury they accumulated, they themselves lived in a simple home crammed to the brim with pilfered goods. A hoarder’s wet dream. A reward was offered, and at sixteen and the eldest of the Davenport brood; it was just enough to be worth turning on his parents.

‘But what of the bonds of blood?’ he had no such qualms, they were hardly a family–merely a well oiled machine. Designed to do one thing from day one, why his parents were so shocked that he turned on them; was beyond him. It’s what he’d been groomed to do. From there on one would think he’d try and strike out on his own, on a path towards a better and brighter future. His younger siblings drifted, attending various therapy groups before being funneled into the system–he was no different. But, he held no desire to remain under anyone else’s thumb; age be damned. At the earliest opportunity, he struck out on his own heedless of being a minor in a grown man’s world. He utilized the sparse contacts his parents had had, mostly to fence the odd item or so; and buried himself deep. Over the years, he became an esteemed criminal; primarily an information broker over some of the more heinous acts of cruelty, but he had a finger in every pie worth sampling. Finch earned himself a place on the FBI’s most wanted list, something he held close to heart with a form of pride. He had a close nest of fellow shifters he passed his tricks onto while they worked under him, favoring various avian forms, rodents, and the odd insect as well to listen; to observe and steal away secrets. Secrets that allowed him to cripple a criminal empire. Oops. He’d gotten in bed with a vampire both literally and figuratively. Though he preferred the literal aspect of their relationship, he was a creature of nature. The man was the head of a smuggling business that operated out of Europe and spanned the entire globe. The kind of operation that had been going on for decades, if not centuries; birthed from the golden age of piracy. 

And Finch up and destroyed a whopping sixty percent of it overnight. His fanged (ex) lover didn’t take kindly to this once the cat was out of the bag, caught with his hand in the cookie jar on board one of the vast shipping freighters. Finch endured a week of torture; the kind of nightmare stuff only someone who lived forever could come up with. He got lucky. Taking the form of an albatross he took to the waves figuring a death at sea was a kinder end than one of the many that awaited him deep in the bowels of a ship. Maybe it was the fear, maybe it was the pain; either way he managed to make it to land where he fell into a period of cat and mouse. Never before had he imagined himself in the role of a mouse (without some delicious cheddar coated secrets to peak his interest of course) and after one too many close calls over the span of several months he bit the bullet and went off the deep end. Domesticity. A new life. Lethe. The entrance interview was unlike any other, the lich representative seated shooting down every web he tried to spin. And so, he came clean. Admitted he’d not have come to their gates if he had any other choice, hung his head heavy in shame–grit his teeth to swallow the bitter pill. All he asked from them was a chance, a chance to live a new life–as if he hadn’t already lived nine, ten, twenty before. That was what the haven was all about wasn’t it? They allowed him to call it home, it was supposed to be temporary. But something wicked did lurk beyond the town’s borders and temporary…turned to three years.

Most aliases he favored involved associating with avian wordplay. He opted for Gilroy Twain. Terribly mundane. Just like him. More often, he goes by Gil; or simply Twain (no longer Finch) and he works as an event planner. Hell of a job change. He likes it, planning things; good and bad. Not every event was a celebration and while he’s been around the rodeo once or thrice prior–he’s never been so entrenched somewhere with such a  hefty supernatural population. He’s got something of a routine, he’s a regular at the Ground Up cafe where he orders the same thing every day. Treating himself prior meant extravagant vacations and designer clothes, now it’s a chocolate croissant once a week. He attends tai chi sessions multiple times a week at the local park, yoga sessions at the community center; he’s got a phone for business and a phone that’s never been so dry, for pleasure. The Everyman’s Event Planning is a very, very small business run out of the office space under his apartment. He works long days, can commonly be seen flitting about town always on the go. He keeps in a positive light with varying businesses across town to secure a supply line, “to support our local businesses” he’d claim, but really he wants to limit the amount of outside resources as much as possible; and when he does, he goes through a series of channels under yet another alias. For the most part, he’s perceived as something of a workaholic–taking very little time for himself outside of his morning coffee (and friday croissant). In fact, he has zero social media presence; he loathes having his photo taken so much that it comes off as an unnerving bout of paranoia. Bit of a poor sport for a business meant for the pizzazz of life.

The Riverborn are….concerning. In the sort of way a tragedy happening half-way across the globe might be. Cold, maybe so; but, by and large they aren’t much of his concern. Gil has avoided the police precinct and every member within it like the plague. Just in case his, or rather, Finch’s face, is plastered somewhere in some officer’s head who doesn’t believe second (never mind that the number is so far beyond that) chances stretch enough to cover all he’s had a hand in. That being said, he almost wishes he could…be one of them. To truly start anew. Wouldn’t that be something?

[loveinthebones]

-Repress/Recollect/Present-

This is Day 25 of Undertale Shipping Pride Month: Sans/Gaster! I absolutely adore all the iterations that I can consume of these two (dark, sadistic or familial or fluff) and I ended up with this! I hope you enjoy reading this! <3 Under the cut for length!

-Repress/Recollect/Present-

Everyone remembers to some extent. Each monster remembers in different ways…

Papyrus is always over eager on that day…bones jittering chaotically after a bad run or skipping after one of the better ones like he knows that a human is coming through soon.

Sans watches Alphys curl lazily in a nest of blankets (expecting their kind human, no doubt.) , fiddling with her figurines with a quiet contentment or he says nothing, hidden in the darkness as he observes her staring at the cold and abandoned DT extraction machine, claws clicking against the floor as she breathes in stuttering heaves.

He can’t help but wonder if Gaster was still here… would he remember, too, in the small ways the others' do? What could possibly be his tells- the signs that show the effects of the anomaly’s time jumps?

Would Sans still be the only one who can retain the memories in full?

-

“…you are not what I was expecting.” Wing D. Gaster tells him the first time they meet and Sans has to laugh.

He’s younger and lacks the dark circles under his eyes, spine straight, and his eyes shut as he throws his head back and lets the deep rumbles spill from him without a thought. Sans has always preferred comfort though and he is wearing a white turtleneck, baggy black sweats, and untied sneakers.

He could see now why Gaster’s floating hands sag in confusion but at the moment, it’s hilarious.

“yes. well…” Sans guffaws, grin twitching rapidly as he extends his hand. “i can’t say that you are unexpected. i’m sans. sans the intern.”

“Where are my manners?” Gaster mutters to himself, thrusting his hand into Sans’ as his hands sign the words. A long, wet squeaking erupts.

Oh…that purple blush suits him…

Whoopie cushions were really the best.

-

Sans has his feet submerged in the glowing water and he sighs, letting gravity force him to his back. He must be imagining the extra weigh on his bones…on his sternum. His phalanges rub absently at the spot as he focuses on the crystals glittering above. The refracted light dancing from their surface has him squinting.

For not being real…their lackluster replacements sure are bright.

“I’m going to get us out of here.” Gaster whispers to him as Sans is (literally) pushing him through the damp dirt. Sans pauses to take a peek at the other’s face.

Wing’s face is almost…gentle as he glances at the crystals, mouth turned down in a slight frown but his eyes lack the wrinkled appearance that accompanies him being truly upset.

Sans takes a deep breath and steps away.

Gaster stumbles backwards with the absence of the weight on his spine but recovers with a sharp huff. Sans musters a brief smile, glancing away. His bones are warm and the air suddenly feels constricting against their surface.

“we should really be…”

“Yes, yes.” Gaster interrupts him with a quick flick of his wrist, wriggling his fingers. Sans shakes his head at the gesture.

He barely hears…

“I’m going to get you out.”

Sans shifts from his place, blinking sleepily. It must be darker on the surface… the crystals are murky. There’s no splatters of prismatic orbs, twisting rainbows.

He sighs.

-

“You can say no.”

“you know i would never say no to you.”

“…It’s going to hurt, Sans.”

“i can take it. it’s just a small dose of the justice sample, right?”

-

There’s some thing about being erased from time and space that leaves such a fine thread in the fabric of reality. ...So fine, that you can’t find the stitch.

Sans wonders if it is even there.

He slumps against the machine, screw driver still clutched in his hand.

-

He is holding Papyrus in his arms, wobbling unsteadily when Gaster kisses him. His eye is throbbing and he is exhausted with a babbling toddler in his embrace but his cheeks still glow and he still manages a stupid, dopey smirk.

“it wasn’t that bad.” Sans lies, reaching up with his free hand to smooth over the bandages on his left socket. “but if that is the thanks i get…”

Gaster looks horrified for a moment before he chuckles quietly.

-

Gaster strokes his sleeping beloved’s skull.

He wishes that Sans would just let him go.

-

Sans’ eye is searing, arms leaden but he digs his fingers into formless shoulders, and clutches on for all he is worth. The void is burdening his body- he feels like he is being pulled apart…atom by minuscule atom and the iciness is climbing up his throat, stealing his breath but he refuses.

He holds on for all he is worth... no, more than he’s worth. He holds on for what Gaster means to him.

He grips even as the other tries to force him away, cyan and lemon hues dancing across a face that is far more broken than he remembers.

But he remembers that face.

He loves that face.

“Sans…” The tone is sharp but Sans beams anyway. He is trembling, sniffling, and he sees nothing of Gaster but a white blur yet… he pushes closer, struggles to pull Gaster against his chest.

“i’m not letting you go. we’re getting out of here.”

Sans doesn’t make promises very often. He hates them but this is one promise he will keep if it kills him.

-

“do you remember me?” He fidgets with the string of his hoodie as his back rests against the tree trunk, pressing a palm against his aching eye. He can’t stand even if he wanted to but he watches the other turn slowly in the snow, eye sockets open wide.

There’s a beat of silence.

Sans shivers. He’s not cold but there’s a coil of uncertainty crushing his soul and if Gaster doesn’t remember then…

Sans’ shoulders hunch, body curling inward as if preparing for a blow.

why would Gaster remember? no one else truly does but…

The dark spiral his thought is starting to become derails at the forceful slap against his cheek. Sans rears back in shock and stares at Gaster’s heaving shoulders and finally registers his choked, suppressed sobs.

“Of course I remember you! And don’t you ever, ever, ever...” There’s arms surrounding him and he’s being crushed and his cheek is smarting but Sans doesn’t care and he howls with mirth and he’s crying

and Gaster’s tittering and weeping and he’s present and he remembers

and…

and…

“…ever again, you- you bonehead!” Gaster finishes weakly and his head in buried in Sans’ shoulder and Sans’ hands are fists against his shoulder blades. They are giggling and hiccupping through their tears but for once-

Sans is okay.

He still remembers and the human will still come but he’s okay.

Gaster remembers, too.

[imright77]

Pride Month

Welp, it’s pride month. Happy Pride everyone! I really want to draw every gay and lesbian ship I have. I mean, every ship outside of UT AUs. That’s too many lmao. I’m just gonna use the ships from my wattpad reading lists that are gay (maybe some others that I like).

[bnha-hq]

Headcanons or a fic of Oiiwa stargazing please?

I absolutely love this, I love this so so much. Perfect stargazing ship imho. Enjoy!

“Come onIwa-chan, hurryyyyy” Oikawa was in his alien onsie, two large fluffy blanketswrapped around his favourite snacks, hardly held up by the future setter’s tinyarms.

“I’m coming,I’m coming” I stumbled after him, I was in my Godzilla onsie, an armful ofsnacks and pillows in my own arms. My grandpa lived on a farm, it was theperfect place for stargazing, or as Oikawa called it, alien hunting.

Oikawastumbled as he lied the blankets down, it was a warm night and the sky wasclear, the stars clear as day.

I droppedthe pillows, letting him place them the way he liked before dropping the snacksand sitting down. Almost immediately Oikawa’s eyes lit up.

“LookIwa-chan! A UFO!” He pointed at a small light flying high in the air…it was anairplane but I humoured him.

“Did you seeit! Did you see it!”

“Yeah, Itotally did.”

“Here we are” Ipulled up in my grandpa’s backyard, the same place we’d go stargazing all thoseyears ago, it felt like a lifetime ago.

“Yesss, I wannasee the surprise!” Oikawa jumped out before I had even shut the engine off,running around to the back of the car. I had bought an old ute from a secondhand car dealership, it was old but it was in good condition, perfect fornights like tonight.

“Alright,alright” I pulled the tarp covering the tray off, inside it was filled to thebrim with cushions, blankets, snacks and other soft, warm things. I looked overat Oikawa, his face looked like it was about to split in two he was smiling sowide.

“Oh you havereally outdone yourself Iwa-chan.”

I dropped thetray and jumped up, offering him a hand, pulling up with ease. I pulled thetray shut and turned to join Oikawa in the puddle of blankts. Soon enough wewere all snuggled up, the sky gradually changing as the sun sunk behind thehorizon, the moon son rising to take its place, the colours gradually fading towelcome the sparkle of the night sky.

“This is sonice, just like when we were kids” Oikawa sighed, his voice unusually placid. Ichuckled

“Yeah, and yousaw that UFO, you were so dumb” I teased.

“I was a kid!So mean Iwa-chan!” I just laughed as he hit my arm, watching as he huffed andpouted briefly. I grinned and opened my arm, inviting him to cuddle.

“Oh so now youwant cuddles?” I again laughed and pulled him closer.

“Oh quit beinga baby” he huffed again but I felt him shift and get comfortable, his head onmy arm and facing the sky. Neither of us spoke again for a bit.

I thought backto when we were kids, when everything was simple and easy. Oikawa and I hadbeen out of university for a short while now, I had landed my dream job. I wasa sports doctor, and Oikawa was training to become a coach, and whileeverything was alright in this moment it hadn’t been smooth sailing to thispoint.

Oikawa hadjoined the national team, he was in it for a little over 9 months and absolutelyloved it and he was good at it, he was where he was meant to be. They were playingsome team when it happened, he’d landed wrong, how it happened neither of usknew, but he did his knee permanently. I was still in university at the timeand it was stressful, I had a lot on my plate between schoolwork, Oikawa’smedical expenses and the rest of our day to day living. We fought a lot, itfelt like we’d fight more often than not sometimes and there were times he’d goto his parents place and I wouldn’t see him for days. It was like this for a while,then I finished university and landed my dream job as a sport doctor.

I looked downat him, we still fought from time to time, he wasn’t over his knee yet and Idoubt he ever would be, but he’d turned back to his other long time childhoodobsession. Astronomy. He went back to uni to pick up a course and he loved it,it was so good to see him happy again, to see him passionate, it truly was abeautiful emotion on him.

“So Tooru,think you can tell me the different star fomations?” He snorted oh so elegantlyand giggled a bit.

“You meanconstellations Iwa-chan?”

“Yeah, thosethings” I watched him roll his eyes a bit and point.

“Well that onethere is Ursa Major” I listened as he pointed them all out, my eyes hadadjusted enough to see his face clearly and as usual I was blown away by hisbeauty. He was so focused on the sky, his voice just above an excited whisper.His eyes seemed to catch more and more stars the more they danced across thesky, constellations of his own forming as he spoke. I wondered to myself whathis would say, what they would represent. What form would his love take? Hispride, his happiness, his pain, his everything? I wasn’t sure but I’d gladlyspend an eternity figuring out until I knew it by heart, able to recite itwhenever, wherever. I smiled softly at him when those eyes, deeper than anygalaxy, turned their gaze on me.

“Iwa-chan haveyou even listened to me?”

I kissed him.

Nothing in theworld would be more beautiful or more interesting than the mess of a humanbeing in my arms right now. Sure he had an ego, and was a drama queen with abit of a jealousy problem but he had so many good traits that I loved. He hadan ego because he was genuinely good at every single thing he put his mind to, hisjealousy stemmed from his feeling of not being good enough, I watched it grow. Iwatched the doubt grow and manifest and change over time, the pressure he putupon never helped. He was also Oikawa Tooru, Captain of Seijoh. Oikawa Tooru,setter for the national team. But to me he was just plain old Tooru, the sameguy who mistook a plane for a UFO as a kid and still squeals far too loud whenhe sees a spider.

And that wasmore than enough for me.

[papytonpropaganda]

since I’ve finished birthday fics for now, and school’s almost out, I think I’ll be getting back to a fairly regular writing schedule.

The Walls Around Our Hearts has its first anniversary on May 25 and I’d really like to release a chapter that day to celebrate it, so that’s probably what I’ll be working on for the remainder of this month.

and then in June, to celebrate Pride Month, I think I might take requests for gay UT ships and trans characters and such. I’ll probably work on other things alongside those.

someday I’ll finally update Papyrus vs. the Forces of LOVE and What Heights of Love, I promise.

but yeah, that’s my writing schedule through June, I guess. if you like what I write, then I hope you’re looking forward to things :>

[valorousowlart]

Dancing’s fun isn’t it?

@firesburnatmidnight @thedoctor-is-sin