#rosetintedgunman

[wolfvirago]

Why I refuse to let Wilford Warfstache (rosetintedgunman) be friends with Robin:

unprompted asks [always accepting]

She really tried to be an understanding, patient individual, but...

My gods. This was a sin against everything holy.

"Wilford I will burn that thing if you go out in it. That's fucking cursed as shit."

@rosetintedgunman

[mysweetlouise]

Wilford decided Louise needed to go Roller skating :D

(rosetintedgunman :}) )

she is having fun! if a bit scared. she would likely compare it to being on a particularly precarious roller-coaster!

[the-graves-family]

Wilford passes Ace an empty drinking glass. It seems rather innocent and ordinary... Until Ace happens to lift it in a way that makes the light bounce off it. Suddenly, the glass becomes more like a window, allowing Ace to see the colours of the sky depending on how he tilts the glass. A little bit of magic, yet oh so discreet.

The Roller has become more like a home to him than the actual house he supposedly lived in. At least in the Roller, nobody was trying to hurt him.

Ace blinks as he's passed an empty glass, wondering if he had been fidgeting and not noticed it. Not the first time someone passed him something to stop him from moving his hands so much. Well. Hand.

Inspecting the glass, he tilts both it and his head, trying to see if Wilford had done something to—

Oh.

He forgets to ask Wilford if he's done something, because he's too entranced by the colors reflected in the glass. How beautiful...

Thank you, Wilford.

[pinkxtrauma]

anonymous send: 🍒  + rosetintedgunman

send  me  🍒  +  a  url  and  i  will  write  some  positivity  for  them.

@rosetintedgunman screaming crying throwing up because I get to talk about my BESTIE

What can I honestly say about Ash that I haven't said before? The work and dedication Ash puts into writing each and every one of her characters is honestly mind blowing. The way she writes thousands of words dossier's on her characters, drabbles, tons of art, and just little tid bits everywhere just..wow. I often forget that Markiplier owns these characters because I genuinely associate them (particularly Damien, Wilford and Yancy) with Ash.

Ash, you have been my good friend through tough times. I know that recently we've not written or spoken as much but it seriously doesn't change that I really appreciate you. I appreciate everything you've done for me. You've been very much involved in my journey creating Ki and if it wasn't for you, I probably wouldn't have her the way she is now. You've been a big part of that for me alongside Jess and Amy. I cannot put into words how much that means to me and I still love reading everything you post and interacting with you.

Also we have written my longest running ship. 5 years! Ki and Wilford are soulmates. It is also vastly understated how much I love Damien too, every version. I honestly never get bored or fed up with writing with you. We've had great times and I cherish them so much <3

[gamethecry]

there was an air of mystery when it came to wilford . matthew had only ever been privy to the knowledge of who this man was from videos that the brunet had thought / do think are based in FICTION rather than real life events . he wanted to ask questions , see what were truths and what were lies , how different this “ man “ was from the fabrication that mark had plastered all over the internet .

at this point , their interactions had been rather tame , besides matt’s initial shock when being faced with the other in the first place . hazel eyes are trained on the practical stranger for a couple of second before glancing to the floor , and then back again ; they were trying to formulate the best question to ask this man without seeming intrusive or rude .

" so . . . i gotta know . . . those videos mark posted , are they purely works of fiction or is there some truth behind his theatrics ? “ he giggles at the end , flashing the other a polite smile .

@rosetintedgunman​ / [ x ]

[splitsuit]

There's a pinata that looks like Playwright hanging on the branch of a tree. It's stuffed with bright red confetti that will make it look like it is gushing with blood when hit. Whee! How fun!

"C'mooooon, ya gotta go feral at least once. Especially on yer birthday!!" (rosetintedgunman)

Happy Birthday | @rosetintedgunman

This summer was mild , to Dark's surprise . Warm wind breezes through the big leaves on the trees . And in one of these trees , hanging from a sturdy branch was the rather TRUE TO LIFE paper and thin cardboard version of Playwright .

He was given a slim bat to knock the doll into how many pieces he so desires ! Gripping it tighter in his hands , he turns to Wilford who ONLY encourages him more .

It was his birthday , why not give it his all ? Just for today .

Wide eyed and ready , he made the first swing to the body first . While nothing had come out yet , he had dented it heavily . A black flame rises in his eyes as he relentlessly pummeled it until it was only hanging from it's head . A rush of the red confetti pools out , and Dark is genuinly smiling .

❝ Okay , that WAS actually fun . ❞

[briingmayflowers]

@rosetintedgunman​ "May! May! Hi! :D " (Wilford, rosetintedgunman)

“Wilford! It’s May...and I’m May!”

[paladinquest]

carrier pigeon received @rosetintedgunman

(medieval / fantasy sentence starters)

❛ do i look like th' kind of person who dies? ❜ (Wilford, rosetintedgunman. As in. Literally the same Wilford you know from elsewhere. I have a verse for timeline hopping gone SUPER wrong)

There isn't a lot of time in between the sound of footsteps and Lark drawing his sword. He turns in the dark, squinting at who he assumes must be a hostile stranger who is sneaking up on him outside the castle at night.

He doesn't even seem phased by having a weapon pointed at him. Who says something like that?

"You look as capable of it as anyone else to me." He isn't exactly attacking, though, so he sheathes the sword a moment later. It must be the lack of light that makes the newcomer's clothes look... strange, right?

And it must be the lack of light making him think his mustache is an impossible colour. Right?

"What you don't look like, is a local." One hand rests on the hilt, but Lark's eyes light up. "What did you mean by that? Are you a traveler from a distant land? A warlock?"

[xshatteredreflectionsx]

Is it technically summer? Yes. Does Wilford care? No. He's wrapping a scarf around Morgan's neck. It's a special scarf, however, as it is in the proud colours of the asexual flag. "Remember," Wilford says while neatly adjusting the scarf, "Yer an ace. One of th' best things in my deck of friends." Then, for good measure, he kisses the top of their head. (rosetintedgunman)

Even if it is about 10 degrees too hot for scarves, Morgan will absolutely keep it on. Reason one, it was comfortable as hell. But more importantly, the gesture was sweet. A bit overly saccharine, maybe, but in the same way an eagerly supportive older sibling was.

Morgan tapped his arm and held out a patch to him, one that read "I'm Pan-Tastic" in pink, blue and yellow thread.

[the-actor-himself]

Mark might have heard from Yancy that Wilford had taken one of his vases. However, weirdly enough, the vase has returned. It sits on his writing desk, with a book on top to cover the hole. A post-it note has been stuck onto it. "Love ya! Wilf <3"

Mark hadn’t been terribly concerned about the vase when he’d first heard about it. But it’s return was in fact more distressing than the loss.

Mark approaches it cautiously, and slowly lifts the book off the top.

“ God damn it, Wilf. ”

It’s crabs.

[the-crypt-of-randomness]

Oh no. Wilford has appeared, and he’s holding a bland bucket. “Good evenin’. I see y’ve been volunteered fer th’ new Jim Studios project. Welcome ta Gunday, th’ water pistol war. I have here yer assigned water pistol an’ water balloons. Keep ‘em safe until I give th’ all-clear, but start thinkin’ of ideas. We’re lookin’ fer th’ best scenes ta showcase visually.”

The bucket is placed at Random’s feet. Inside, there’s a brightly coloured water pistol that almost looks like it was plucked out of a cartoon, along with a bundle of ready-made water balloons. “Th’ contents won’t run out on th’ day, but they will if ya use ‘em before Sunday. Y’ll get more instructions on th’ day. Good luck!” 

A blink, and then he’s gone. (rosetintedgunman)

@rosetintedgunman  

Random is initially spooked when Wilford appears so suddenly, so it takes her a minute to process what he says. Before she can muster up a response, the bucket is at her feet. She stares at the contents, then at him as he continues. 

“Um, okay, Sunday. Got it. But what–”

Annnddd Wilford is gone. Well then. Her gaze falls back on the bucket, and a sly grin forms on her face.

A pistol war, huh? This is gonna be fun.

[crushng-a]

The Roller is alive. Upstairs, there are couples of all kinds making the most of a a day out before whatever else couples do on Valentine's. Two for the price of one would be an ideal chance that Gin would be a fool to miss out on. But they ARE a guest in the Roller. Besides... they're busy.

Namely, they are lounging on a couch with Wilford in the basement bowling alley. It wasn't due to open for a while yet, so the pair could sit and enjoy milkshakes while being forgotten about the world. Eventually Wilford propped his feet up other table and turned his head to Gin.

"Yer a good kid, an' I'm proud of ya - glittery black-hole-ness an' all. There is a happy endin' out there somewhere fer ya. But until then, I wanna remind ya that here can be where it is fer now. Oh, that reminds me." Rolling to put his weight on his right hip, Wilford began rummaging the back pockets of his trousers until he pulled out a small box. Inside was a silver necklace with a small model of a pair of roller skates dangling off them. It was hard to tell what colour they were, as the hue shifted depending on how the light bounced off them, but the white star mark held firm. "No matter what timeline yer in, no matter where ya end up goin', y'll always have this little bubble ta come back to." (rosetintedgunman)

IT’S LOVE DAY!

the best day of the year! best holiday of all time and space, with the most important annual traditions! (candy & sex! — duh.) oh, and kisses. and teddy bears! and making ridiculous scenes in upscale italian restaurants!

also, candy. so much candy. sweets and sours and sugars and caramels and cakes and cookies! mochis and gummies and boobies and chocolates and taffies and toffees and ice creams! and milkshakes. that’s an important one, because the best milkshakes in all the multiverse come from one of gin’s favorite stops.

AND THE ROLLER IS ALIVE!

(eye candy! eye candy everywhere!) that’s not the point. unfortunately. the point is to see wilford.

wilford the warfstache, who might well be a cupid himself, between the pink hair, the bear hugs, and the penchant for bringing the sweetness out of anyone. or maybe he’s the easter bunny. all those pastels. eh. jury’s out! it’s two timeless time-travelers reveling in time apart, together! and there’s few who gin would rather do it with than wilford. few he respects enough to even consider it. not just anyone has this much power and this much class!

and it’s love day! so he has a bright pink milkshake and as many candy hearts as the bartender could cram on top. he’s been making a game of seeing how many he can stick to his tongue at once, LOL and TXT ME and BABY and I♥️U, before they start falling off or he has to wet his palate.

sometimes wilford’s a sap. happy endings are still endings, after all, and gin’s not nearly done with writing his story! but aside from a disapproving sucking noise on his mouthful of chalky candy, he stays quiet. there’s a gift involved.

cool metal pools in gin’s palm, charm first, followed by a thin chain. the charm, a pair of skates, s h i m m e r s as he turns it back and forth. it’s like an opal, all multicolored and flashing fire. it’s hard to tell what it might be made of. rose gold? that’d be seasonal! or sterling silver, perhaps? (no, sterling’s the chain, not the ball!) (it’s not a ball, it’s a charm! doofus.) (heh. balls.)

gin smiles brightly. “i never doubted it.” he fastens the clasp in the back with a couple of tries, narrowly keeping his milkshake glass tucked between his thighs without incident. the skates rest at the base of his turtleneck, on perfect display between the flaps of his khaki lapels. he toys at the necklace with a finger, staring down at it as its many hues cast rainbows on the seat below.

“it’s, um. it’s funny, you know? everyone else … isn’t always there. they’re all temporary.” it’s more than just mortality that plagues him. the very fabric of existence warps and tears. people change. disappear. get misplaced. he’s too early, there’s no one to miss. or i’m too late. too late. too late. sometimes it’s as if you never existed at all.

(can you see me here, ? or am i out of your reach?)

gin shakes his head — shakes away the dread. “i’m just glad the roller’s easy to find, that’s all.” i’m glad to have you, wilford. i don’t know where i’d be without you.

i hope the necklace stays a while. i like it a lot.

[the-graves-family]

There's a dark grey hoodie. It's a little too big, but it's warm. It definitely didn't belong to Ace, for he had never seen it before. However, his name was written in marker on the inside label, so it seemed like it was his. But he'd never seen it before. Maybe it belonged to a different timeline. But it is here now. And it has his name on it. So it is his now. (rosetintedgunman, for whatever setting since he isn't actually there so it makes no difference.)

So. It's not his hoodie.

It's nice, and big, and soft, and it has his name on it, but Ace has never seen it before. He's certain Aaron would never get him more clothes, especially nice ones, and wouldn't tag them like this.

He runs his fingers on the fabric, and has to resist the urge to shove his face in it. It feels nice. Nicer than most he has.

So. It's his hoodie now.

He just has to keep it a secret.

[oliver-ashcroft-documents]

Oh no! Oliver's notebook appears to be bulky and weird. It was so bulky, it looks like someone puffed it up with water.

But.... wait. Oliver's notebook is also over there and unharmed. So then what is the "notebook" sitting on the table? It appears to be... a cuddly toy version? Why would someone leave that there? (rosetintedgunman)

@rosetintedgunman // the misplaced attorney

Oliver, at first, was a little panicked when he saw what looked like his notebook looking like it had broken the laws of physics. When he came to the realization that, no, his notebook was still laying on the table of the place he was staying in, and this was a plush version of his notebook, he grew more confused than anything.

Picking it up, he noticed it was soft, almost like the fur of a teddy bear but shorter and smoother to the touch. The attorney looked it over. Up close, it looked like a simplified version of his journal, and it only opened in half to a similar soft inside. All together, it was a huggable plush. He smiled a little.

Whoever left it for him, they'd be happy to know that he's cuddled up with it after a long day of traveling. It's a very cozy toy.

[abe-reporting]

Abe's only had a blog a few hours and he's already accidentally flirting with people? There's a chuckle as a drink is left beside Abe, complete with a bright orange paper umbrella that didn't suit. "They're gonna walk aaallll over ya, buddy. Just accept that yer work is gonna be interrupted a lot." (Wilford, rosetintedgunman)

Abe is rubbing his forehead, and a prominent vein near his temple is throbbing. Now, when Wilford appears, he hardly flinched. Used to the random pop ins from the pink mustachioed man.

"Yeah, I'm thinking you're right..." Heaving a sigh, he eyes the drink with a raised eyebrow before glancing at Wilford. Not bothering to remove the umbrella, he takes a sip. It was five o clock somewhere, right? "Thanks, Wil."

[gunsblazin]

Ha ha, you opened the inbox! That allows Wilford to pop up and lightly tip your forehead. "Ya haven't forgotten how much ya matter, right? Ya know that yer loved an' cherished, an' folks are real glad that they know ya? Good. I'm makin' sure. Sometimes folks let th' most important things slip by an' not see th' good of it all. Don't want that happenin' ta ya." And, for good measure, he's giving you a pat pat on the head. (rosetintedgunman)

:’0? i can’t believe i’ve been ambushed in my own inbox,

i had to sit on this just for a little bit so that ye ol brain would cooperate on words, but thank you. it means a lot! it’s a reminder i think a lot of people need from time to time, so if anyone reading this also needs it, here: have a little positivity.

*pat pat*

(oh, and to ash: u.no reverse!! i know real life has been hectic, so i hope you’re doing well and taking time for yourself. and know that we’re all happy you’re here!)