#gasterass

@bubblegumdicc   was asking for followers/people to send outfits to put on Oscar, their oc. When I got permission to draw him myself, I was ecstatic! I have been silently following them for a long time and I totally love all of their characters! Pillhead and Oscar my top favorites though. 

Please go check them out! They have amazing art and characters with both tragic and amazing backstories. 

So I reblogged this meme http://elainapoststhings.tumblr.com/post/154434043579/reblog-is-you-want-a-fanfiction-description-of#notes 

basically you write fanfic descriptions of your friends and leave it in their ask box. I write a lot, so I know I wouldn’t fit the character limit of the ask box, so I stuck them all here in this post.

I wrote descriptions for some cool people and you should definitely check out @purplefictionmom and @gasterass and @nowaki-star and @goodnight-knight ok thank u

here u go pls don’t think I’m weird

I entered the room and saw her on the couch. Lavender was obviously a favorite color of hers, because it made up the carpeting, the couch covers, and her clothes. Something told me if she had the cash for it, she’d dye the entirety of her hair the same color. Blue eyes met mine and, for a moment, she smiled brighter than the sun.

 “Hi,” she greeted, rising to meet me. She exuded warmth in a way I couldn’t describe, even without proximity, and I never wanted to look away. “I’m Purple Fiction Mom! It’s nice to meet you, haha!”

Well, I thought, smiling, that explained the affinity. As I shook her hand, something told me we were going to get along just fine.

 oOo

 They were laid back when I met them; calm, unphased, and lacking legs. I wasn’t exactly…sure what they were, actually? A muzzle was covering the space where their mouth would be, but the outline of a mouth was still present. In lieu of legs they just sort of hovered in place, their long tail brushing against the floor with every leisurely sway, and their arms hovered near their torso, disconnected and yet still united.

 One, long ear twitched in acknowledgement of my presence. I waved back, greeting them.

 “How are you?” I asked. “Nice jacket.”

 “Thanks,” they said, smirking. “I’m Gaster Ass, you can call me the void daddy, or just Daddy.”

 Their bluntness got a snort out of me and I leaned against the wall, more relaxed. They were completely chill about me wanting to befriend them, which I enjoyed. They seemed to take everything in stride, actually.

 “Oh, nowhere to sit?” they said, glancing around. I shook my head, but they laughed. “I’d look again. There’s a perfectly good seat in my lap. Come sit with daddy.”

  oOo

 I met my college roommate in elementary school. We were from the same home town, and I’d lost contact with her for a while, before being reunited the summer before university began.

 She’d cut her hair. It looked nice short and red, as opposed to the natural blonde hue it once held. The contacts she wore made her already blue eyes look even darker, like the sea after a storm or an undisturbed pond.

 “I’m Nowaki-Star,” she reluctantly said, back when I was 9 and she was 12. Her being older than myself was not unknown, and the respect we have for one another now was not initially there.

 Now, though, as she sat beside me scrolling through fandoms and squealing over cute Japanese/Russian couples, we were on similar wavelengths, mentally and emotionally.

 I appreciated her as a person and the way she never spoke down to me, and now I couldn’t platonically love her as a friend more than I already do.

 oOo

 The cafeteria was crowded when I spotted them walking towards the table. Nowaki-Star introduced them to me as Goodnight-Knight, and the friendship didn’t start out as strong as I’d planned.

 They sat across from me, short, onyx bob enticingly shiny as it framed wine-colored glasses and caramel hued skin. In every sense of the word, they were adorable; it was ridiculous. When they sneezed, I wanted to give them my coat and a glass of warm milk.

 I just…kept misgendering them.

 “My pronouns are they/them,” they corrected me almost every day for the first three weeks. Though their irritation was prominent, their patience was stronger; I genuinely appreciated their willingness to put up with someone who’d never been around anyone but other cis people before and didn’t know exactly what to do.

 Now, feeling proud, I don’t make the mistake of “she/her” when I describe them to my other friends.

Written for @gasterass on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/8755681/chapters/20070055