sometimes i open this blog and look at it wistfully then close it again
we're not kids anymore.
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Kiana Khansmith

#extradirty
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Andulka
Mike Driver

roma★

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taylor price
Show & Tell

shark vs the universe
Monterey Bay Aquarium

PR's Tumblrdome

★

Origami Around
sheepfilms
Misplaced Lens Cap

Product Placement

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@avoidantphysicist
sometimes i open this blog and look at it wistfully then close it again
since ot3 au’s are hard to find I made my own list;
- you are the parents of a kid I teach in kindergarten and it’s parent-teacher night and you are both really cute and my last appointment
- i used to live next to you and now my parents have died i moved back to my childhood home to sell it but guess what you are still living nextdoors and you have a relationship and both of you have been eyeing me strangely
- i am the school nerd and i have a crush on the school jock but he is dating someone else. Turns out that doesn’t matter much.
i can’t believe i have dozens more written for gaster’s DA verse than for his UT verse
Barbie Girl
"Do you wanna go for a ride?"
"Jump in"
"It's fantastic"
"You can brush my hair"
"Undress me everywhere"
"Let's go party!"
"Dress me up"
"Kiss me here"
"Touch me there"
"You can touch"
"You can play, if you say I'm always yours"
"Do whatever you please"
"I can act like a star"
"I can beg on my knees"
"Let us do it again"
"Oh, I'm having so much fun"
"We're just getting started"
i badly need to update indie’s theme oh my g o d i guess that’s the plan for the day
sterrenlied:
✧*:・゚| A husky, throaty rumble from betwixt heavy lungs, and he winks again, this time with EXAGGERATED slowness as if all of time and space has settled to a complete stop. There’s a smirk, insufferable sweetness dripping like sticky honey, and the palm of a hand pats snow white tresses. ❝My APOLOGIES,❞ He begins with a laugh ( sincerity feigned! ) and a smile. ❝I can never help myself around someone so SWEET.❞
☾ ☝ ☽ — A hand bats against Siebren’s chest, pout scrunching his face even tighter. Gaster liked the attention, but his words struggled to pass his lips, and face burned brighter than the sun. It always seemed to happen, so he was justified in sticking his tongue out at the older man. At least, that’s what he told himself. “You are flattering me! Quit it, I know you just want something.”
“…so there were fools who went to Area 51 after all.” May the lord have mercy on their lack of intelligence.
☾ ☝ ☽ — “Do not be such a spoil sport, it is the most enjoyable thing that has happened all year! Or are you jealous that they are having the time of their lives?”
“i rly need to give indie more attention” i say as i proceed to not do that
except i’m here today because gaster and nabor both have Okay queues rn and indie is a good break u kno?
@sterrenlied said: ;)
☾ ☝ ☽ — “Why are you giving that face to me?” Gaster pouts, but his face is bright red.
—✕ █ ▌Of all things he wished Gaster wouldn’t LEER at him so. Utter shame clawing at his insides, disgust burning through heart and stomach like dripping acid, eyes flicker away from the man besides him in a rushed, HURRIED manner. Water gulped down as if in fear that if he’d put it down, he’d pick up the whisky, Loghain growls, ❝Keep looking at me like I’m a SNACK, and I will say no.❞
Knife flickers as Gaster leans in, point lowering to just nearly pressing into his chest. An AUTOMATIC reaction; were Loghain in the presence of another hero or his daughter instead, he’d not think twice about sheathing the blade. Instead, he’s wired, posture too rigid like he’s got a steel rod for a spine.
❝Oh please, as if you know ANYTHING of peace,❞ he bites back, baring the teeth of a predator. ‘ Shame, how sweet Gaster used to be … ’ Loghain turns away, palm of hand shoved against his face wondering just HOW LONG time could be bought before Gaster gives up. Caught between two extremities he doesn’t want, as per the usual when his enemy is concerned.
Just when it seems as if either male’s patience has been STRETCHED THIN, he rises to his feet. ❝Fine. Fine. But you better watch your back. I might get COCKY.❞ A glance back towards the bartender, knife lowering to prick at Gaster’s waist. ❝Now be a good gentleman and pay for your drink. Least you deserve for being the RAT BASTARD you are.❞
☾ ☝ ☽ — Lips thin, and Gaster eyes him, still, but it softens, weakens, as though the bluff was not only called out, but stripped bare within seconds. Fingers tighten around the glass in his hand, and yet, it wasn't the knife he was terrified of this time. No, if anything, it’s a war to stop himself driving the damned knife where it belonged.
(The ache for his friend still lingered. He should have killed it years ago.)
“I know enough,” he bites back, voice wavering with the memories of two dear, loving brothers. Yet despite the snapping bravado, he turns to the drink in hand, gulping it back in a graceless, practised motion. The knife, he notes, doesn't inch away from him, and for the moment, he’s glad.
So glad, in fact, that he barely flinches at the nick to his side, instead motioning to the bartender for one more drink -- something softer, as it never sat well in his stomach for long. The pause is painful, yet he relishes it, yet again necking the drink once more, and paying for his companion’s drink on top of his numerous own. Sliding from the barstool, the despicable grin plasters itself across his teeth once more, and any memory of dear family is pushed aside where it belonged. “The place is across town. I hope you have heard of it before? Surely, it must be on a hero’s radar.”
—✕ █ ▌He sighs, seemingly resigned to this lonely fate. Too tired, too weak, too full of DESPAIR; back when he was worshipped regularly, he may have cast down a priest who left his home in disrepair.
Instead, he feels his heart wane with longing, with sorrow.
Loghain watches Gaster with interest, smile faint. He doesn’t know how to express his feelings, how to assure his Faithful there’s no need to worry or guilt. He’s just HAPPY to merely survive. Indeed, he hardly even cares about the appearance of his shrine when he has been dying.
Eyes lift at Gaster’s question, Loghain’s chin resting upon his hand as if in thought. ❝Because, until then, I knew you’d come back the next day … I do not wish to die, but I always had HOPES that you wouldn’t abandon me.❞
Grateful words drip from his tongue as he RISES to his feet. He walks, no, glides across stones until he’s just in front of Gaster, bending down to place a hand upon a stooped shoulder.
❝You DO NOT have to do this all today,❞ he whispers. ❝I can live with a bit of dirt for another day. If you want or need rest, I will not complain.❞
☾ ☝ ☽ — Scrub, scrub, scrub. Gaster's silent as he listens to the god speak, the awe whispered tones sending shivers down his spine. Slowly, the dusty grey makes way for a smooth, if ragged-looking, wood, and he let the silence take over as he avoids peering into those deep, deep eyes.
Soon, seats are cleared, enough for two. Exhaustion already bored into his bones, so he threw the rag in the bucket and sat, finally looking up to his lord. “My family is not rich,” he whispers, gulping and licking dry lips. “I m-might be able to bring my brothers in to help, or, ah, to do a fundraiser. This land will be sold and built over if we do not do anything for it.”
Take it into his own hands, he’d prefer, but the city was filled with non-believers now. No one would miss a little shrine, tucked away out of sight. “I have not made my decision, but it would be a waste to let our history collapse like this.”
Hands wring, and for a moment it almost looked as though he were praying, one more time. “What do you like?” He asks, glancing around the room. “I can, ah, buy something. Leave it as an offering. M-Maybe it will help your strength?”
—✕ █ ▌❝A RELATIVE of yours, yes? Surely?❞A curious rise of a sable brow as he tilts head askance. Certainly this is the right person — of which he feels deep within his very SOUL. A single, subtle sigh of his chest, before feet begin their travel once again.
At the very least, Gaster could learn to love this place beyond the INTIMIDATING nature!
❝Not now. Later. Well, I hope they are patient.❞ He sighs again, stops moving for a fraction, and yet before long picks up the pace once again.
❝Oh, it is quite a large space, but if you wish, I will SIMPLY take you to the rooms you are most interested in.❞ Already he began to WANDER upstairs towards Gaster’s bedroom, head a tilt once more to affix his master with a curious stare. ‘ Ah, but perhaps the bedroom isn’t what he’s looking for if he’s CLINGING to me! ’
☾ ☝ ☽ — “I-I think? I never met them.” Gaster smiles, pauses to rock on his heels. “The, ah, negotiations got strange. Some family started fighting, the l-lawyer wanted to give the house to a family dog! Then it just landed on me.”
Gaster bites his lip, and scurries after the servant like a lost pup. Perhaps the house had landed on a dog, after all.
“I- Yes, yes, I would appreciate that. Bedroom first, perhaps?” And then, red, blooming bright across his face. “I mean like, ah, no, wait, I just need a r-rest. I did not mean to imply, ah.” Hands clamp over his flustered mouth, shoulders hunched over as he gives up trying to say anything else. Rest, he just needed some rest, as his mind still reeled from the vastness of the house that was now his. “Rest, and a meal. Soup would be wonderful. I-I can speak to your brothers while we eat.”
—✕ █ ▌The EXHAUSTION of the other is noted and mentally tucked away. Though immediate attention is needed, from his belongings to be unpacked to a tour to finish, he is all but honorbound in his own way to ENSURE a relaxing week once all is said and done. Thus, he smiles softly, a warm little chuckle exhaling between thin lips. ❝Lucky you that our tastes are more aligned. I do not want you to stress over this, however, so I do hope you can SURVIVE such gaudiness for just a little longer.❞
He stands as the other stands, perhaps a but CONFIDENT in his own demeanor as a slim smirk graces his lips. ❝How odd of you to say that. I confess that I am a chef, myself. I intended to COOK my own meals unless hit by exhaustion — — does he SHARE the kitchen well??❞
Loghain nods, hands stuffed in pockets as he trails behind the servant. ❝That’s nice. So we’ll be SEEING EACH OTHER a bit, won’t we? Er, not that I’d bug your family over every little thing. I did mention myself as self sufficient, didn’t I?❞
☾ ☝ ☽ — “We will survive a little longer, sadly.” Pride wrings his hands and leaves his words to trail with nothing more than a weak, tired smile. Their new master wanted little, and it was already more than he could ever hope for, more than all of them could hope for, as he listens to the subtle joy that rang out in the web between them.
A laugh follows. “He is possessive of the kitchen. It is all he knows, but I am certain he will like an assistant from time to time. The rest of us do not cook, so we may appreciate better meals if there are two cooks~”
Finally, they reach the bedroom, and the office spaces that occupied the wing. Great glass windows peered out into the hallway, more like the walls of an office building than a home, yet the bedroom itself seemed hidden behind a none-assuming door. Pride waves to a tiny office beside the grander, decadent one. “I will be there, every day, tending to bills and management of the home. The larger room is yours, use it however you see fit. Would you like to see your bedroom, sir?”
It’s Sinday.
Send in any sort of question you have.
You can send your questions in on anon or not.
Try and see if you can fluster my muse, bonus points if you do.
@avoidantphysicist
—✕ █ ▌Loghain fusses over his appearance for what feels like the fiftieth time. Out of all things, his clothes can become crooked even while sitting still. He’s THANKFUL for the air conditioning, for if the car was heated, he’s probably sweat straight through them. His knees knock against a hidden compartment; there’s always a plan b, but he’d rather not.
He turns then to look at his ‘husband’. He trusts Gaster well enough as friends, but the delicate balance of friendship among co-workers has been tilted over the edge with a single mission. Pretend to be a newlywed couple. Infiltrate the organization. Save the FUCKING world.
No big deal.
Gaster looks to be in his element, cool eyed and poised as if every car they pass has a hidden camera focused on him. That’s something that may change in any given moment, however, as long as Loghain is in PROXIMITY. At the first sign of empty, calm streets, Loghain reaches over and squeezes Gaster’s hand, as if he’s a man seeking SECURITY from his partner in a stressful situation. Just like we practiced.
❝Hey, we should go over tonight’s plans again. I’m not good at being social, and …❞ Loghain trails off and looks down at their hands. And you’re not good at being married.
☾ ☝ ☽ — You’re not good at being married. Gaster heard the words unspoken as Loghain trailed off, tensing as a hand brushes his own and pursing his lips at the growing flush against his cheekbones. He’d heard it spoken often enough during practice to have it buried deep in mind, as sharp a reaction as squeezing fingers back in soothing reassurance.
He doesn’t offer a glance sideways, eyes fixated on their destination. After all, the flush would be unbearable if he thought too hard about things. Cool and calm. He’d done this a thousand times before, even if the new development was... a difficult obstacle.
“We walk in, mingle, and ask about our target. It is believed that he resides in the parlour of the guest’s wing, but information is always valuable.” Relaxed, authoritative, he spoke with a demeanour at ease, back in his element. “There are guards everywhere. Do you still have the map with you? I looked at it, but you know guards and their habits better than I.”
No, glossing over the whole couple deal was a bad idea, yet as the thought gripped him once more, again, the embarrassment caught in his throat. Fingers squeeze, and silently, he seeks reassurance in return.
@avoidantphysicist
—✕ █ ▌Minds wander when they’re full of STRIFE.
By all regards, he shouldn’t complain, and when it comes down to it, he really doesn’t. Loghain is serious and quiet, steady in hand and body, but sometimes, particularly of late, he seeks a means of escaping the past.
He sighs and stretches, eyes glancing upwards towards the beating sun of a midday. He speaks not a word about his thoughts, but Loghain is relieved not to be spending any more time under the unforgiving heat. He’s already SLICK with sweat, shirt lost some time ago and skin tanned from this work.
The barn is quiet, musty, a LONELY haven. His thoughts crawl when he’s alone, creep and tug at him with cruelty that knows no bounds. He lifts planks of wood long since in disuse, shrugs them outside, and lifts some more. They pile up in a clatter. He wipes his brow and returns to find something else to work on. He’s wrapped up too tightly to NOTICE Gaster’s approach.
☾ ☝ ☽ — Loghain? Loghain, where are you?” Gaster calls out across the open field with a deep set scowl. His farmhand was far better than anything he could have hoped for, and if it weren’t for how uncertain he was to how Loghain would react, Gaster would have handed the land onto him a while ago. Alas, his family might not be so forthcoming of such a choice, and Loghain was still a mystery to him.
But he knew crops and he knew animals and Gaster was eternally grateful of the fact.
So as he’d spent the morning fussing over a ewe that refused to graze, Gaster sought his worker with worrying hands and quick feet. Pushing back the barn doors, he called out, “Loghain... Loghain I think one of the ewes is sick-” Dumbstruck and dumbfounded, he stares with awe at the sight before him. “Where... i-is your shirt?”