#the long and winding queue

[oh-a-very-toxic-octopus]

Today, in search of some Christmas presents for my partner, I walked from our apartment in Praia da Rocha into Portimão. Some snippets from the hike.

[tiddygame]

yall ever think about the discussion between ghoap about who takes who’s last name?

cause with ghost there’s the conflict of him literally being the last riley, wondering if keeping his last name would honor the few good people that were in his family or be a constant reminder of who his father was

and soap being proud of his heritage and not wanting to give it up but also not wanting to force ghost to give up his

it doesn’t even really matter all that much because they’re still gonna be sgt mactavish and lt riley regardless of which one they go with

every time they talk about it, they just end up going in circles. and if soap ever argues in favor of taking ghost’s last name, ghost more or less plays devils advocate and argues in favor of taking soap’s and vice versa. it’s a nightmare.

i think they’d end up discussing for so goddamn long that they land on doing a coin toss to decide. and even that was a struggle with which name took heads or tails since an actual coin toss isn’t a true 50/50. leading to them using a digital one, until one of them asks if it’s possible that one is skewed too.

[voidcat]

— the maker, far away and the muse, ardent

characters: endo yamato, you

notes: this is more in the style of my typical dazai content so iykyk. artist!reader, gender neutral pronouns used. small picture of dorian gray reference. a mini post explaining my vision for this fic basically

Drawing Endo Yamato is a tricky feat.

Despite his simple looks, you realize there are more details to him that meets the eye. Sharp edges and curves, eyes and lashes that cut through, wavy locks of hair that fall with an order to itself.

It is difficult but so is to create. That’s the thing with art, and that’s what you love about it until the very end.

No matter how hard, how detailed something is, no matter how long it’ll take you to reach that level of skill required to make it, it is never impossible.

And so you sit back and keep observing him, smoothing out the page before you, you sharpen your pencil.

Despite the numerous pages adorned with his face, you’ve never spoken with Endo Yamato, not even once. Nor did you feel the need to.

Does god often seek an audience with their followers, does a nature artist eat the apple even after days of mold has accumulated— does everyone kill the thing they love? Or do they just leave it be, to their happiness or misery.

To you he is nothing more than a pretty face, beautiful features and an impressive body, one he uses as his own canvas, recording his life and feelings onto his skin permanently.

Endo Yamato never sits still, as if offering a challenge to you. Another thing that helps you in the long run, your pen begins to hasten, your sketch line improves and you begin to remember and transfer every small detail of a millisecond to paper without breaking a sweat.

It begins piece by piece, part by part. When one thing proves difficult to grasp, you have no choice but to dissect it one by one.

You begin with his structure, how he carries himself and his body. You have confidence in your figure drawing but it takes something extra to show off his pride and nose high up attitude in his posture. You don’t know Endo Yamato all that much but you know enough that you don’t like him or his kind at all.

Then comes the face, the edge of his jaw and the softness to his cheeks despite coming off as thin. It’s the details that prove the real challenge. When drawn apart, be it his eyes or the hooked nose, you’re good. Yet the way they have been placed on his face, you have to remake the dough figurine over and over again. His hair proves a great distraction, you’d suppose it is the real source of your problems. It hides everything characteristic to him, every small detail, the arch of his brows, the wrinkles on his face when he smiles or furrows them, the angle of his nose and how the bridge comes down, the light in his eyes though they are absent majority of the time.

You sketch over and over, the pencil glides off the pages. You change the materials but the subject remains the same. Noticeable changes begin to appear after some time. You’ve lost for how long you’ve been drawing, but it comes natural now.

So you switch up the medium, and try the process from the start with watercolors. The uncontrollable nature of the medium met with the difficult subject growing familiar on your muscles perfectly.

Too perfectly in fact, as you are lost in the thrill of it, that you don’t even notice how time passes nor the shift in scenery unless it contradicts your paintings— and you’re slouching over the papers once more, face contracting in focus as shadows disturb your view and lighting.

When you steal a glance above, you’re met with not a cloud but none other than Endo Yamato himself.

Hands shoved deep in his pockets and his confident yet relaxed posture, he glances down at you and the papers, wearing a smug smile the whole time.

You wait for a moment of breath then divert your attention back to the work before you, adding shadows currently.

You hear him let out a slight grunt, and maybe you’d see his expression shift into something of surprise too, were you to be carefully watching.

“It’s sublime knowing I have a fan.” He says, still not stepping one step to the side, adamant on blocking the light apparently.

His words register far too late for you, you let out a hum at first, “hmm… oh?” The sound fades into surprise on your end, “ah, no, you see-“

You dip the brush into water and to the shades of blue and purple, mixing and lightening the amount of paint on the brush. 

A tapping of feet brings you down to earth and reminds you for once you are not alone in your leisure time of painting.

“Ah… sorry.” You say more as an apology for forgetting he was right there up until a second, “it’s nothing like that.”

Your words take him out like a chain of inconveniences following one after another, building up until you’ve lost your temper.

You don’t notice this either, focus solely on perfecting the shading, calling it another painting done and complete.

To Endo, your nonchalance is odd to say the least. Here he stands, the subject of your attention for many a while now, from what he has seen, and you don’t seem to care one bit. Or is it the paper that is holier than him? Or is this another, albeit looser case of Takiishi, not caring for the people but for their reflections, their end products, what comes out of them and the hand that crafts them into something bigger, brighter.

Along the lines Endo Yamato says to you, you do catch something like ‘having the real thing before you already.’ An enlightenment perhaps, a revelation you didn’t need nor asked for.

So he is a charmer, you think, or tries to be. Considering the things at hand it’s the former most likely— walking up to you without a care in the world as if you’ve interacted before. It takes some sort of confidence, as most charmers carry with them. He is just not trying it to the fullest with you, but is it because he thinks he already holds a part of you in his hand, you’re unsure.

In the short timeframe of thinking over a man you couldn’t care any less, you notice your brush staggering, slowing down. Any more and the drops of water will be too much for the paper, ruining all your hard work on this completely.

“So… listen,” you begin, cutting off whatever he was saying. “If you don’t have anything important to say, would you mind-“ 

You wait and wait for him to catch on. Instead met with empty eyes looking at you with not a single clue inside that brain of his, you let out a sigh.

“The light at this hour is very good and you’re making me lose it minute by minute right now.”

Endo looks at you, in disbelief again. Not the reaction he was expecting and definitely not the words he expected to hear. And compared to how quiet and just shy you sounded up until the last sentence— that last demand, all that timid nature of you dispelled within a second. 

Deflated, he admits his defeat for the time being and leaves, stealing one last glance at the paper.

As the man leaves, you watch his back for a bit, waiting for your brush to dry.

Odd, you think. 

What did he really expect you to do or say? 

You may not know Endo Yamato but all you’ve observed is more than enough to deem him as weird. You are somewhat aware he is filled with burning passion down to his very being but that’s just not who you are as an artist.

The views people have on you, and by extension, on artists has always been far fetched from what you’ve seen.

Must art always be loud and intense, waging war upon any heart that gazes at it? Should you too be destructive and heavy— not all artists see their subject like Basil to Dorian, not all art is an all consuming fire, an endless devotion, a declaration of war. Art can be natural and gentle, like a breeze, like a stream of river.  Love can be accepting and gentle, unifying and kind with the familiarity it brings, the comfort hidden in the routine, as he fails to see.

By the time the painting has come to an end, darkness has fallen. Endo Yamato has already left, and the sunlight soon after him. The sky begins to darken, purple spreads of paint among the clouds. You turn the page and leave today in the past, crossing another thing off the list and moving on.

[raintailed]

even MORE doodles bc firealpaca’s analog brush is super fun

character list:

Misci

Misci

Jeff

Pendragon

Corecat 062

Corecat 062

The Lightspun

Mobier, one of Sky’s parents

Earth (not to be confused with EARTH)

The Maskmaker

[rosetintedgunman]

Oh! You Must be New.

Not that that's a bad thing, mind you. Everyone is new at some point. Even me! But it can be a bit of a problem when you find a blog that's been around in some capacity since 2018. There's a lot of gaps to fill in, and hopefully this post will help be a starting point.

While this is a Wilford rp and ask blog, no matter how busy or quiet it may be, it has been around for a long time. M.otherloving came out about a month or two after the blog was set up, and the accuracy of what I was writing meant this blog was on the right track - I was the only person in my circle at the time who didn't need to either make major headcanon changes or opt to abandon canon and go divergent. With every appearance, there's been no major tweaks that have been required to adjust the portrayal. To toot my own horn, it's been fairly spot on.

Between that and natural character development, this can mean that the blog could be a little... 'inaccurate' to expectations, and can cause a lot of confusion for those who aren't 'in the know'. So! Consider this a 101 on the character without needing to trawl through the gauntlet of a two-part bio (the second part isn't even finished yet....)

In brief, I kindly ask that you leave expectations of a reckless madman who fully personifies the "LOL XD RANDUM" and has no clue about anything going on at the door, please. If you want to compare him to a canon appearance, look more toward M.otherloving or Space.

For a lot more info to help get you started, read on.

-

While this Wilf (also known as 'Rose' when interacting with variants) is still eccentric and kooky, he is more grounded in nature. Chances to interact with others and maintain a somewhat normal sense of time flowing in the correct manner have started to help him feel more connected. Not only that, he's starting to get glimpses of his original life as William, and a later life of Wilson Jackson Bartholomew (or just 'Jack'). The latter I haven't gone into much detail yet in general, so don't worry about that. If you see him getting glimpses of these memories, he doesn't go into hysterics. That's important.

He is six foot three, and heavy built. The evidence of his past life as a soldier is there in his broad shoulders, a barrel chest and strong arms, as well as how he can hold himself. However, he's got a proper tubby belly, and this softness almost counteracts the threat of the almost unnatural strength that lies within. His moustache is either pure pink or black with pink tips depending on the day. He's got a curly mop of black hair that has a slight red-pink tint when the light shines on it just right. The only genuine traces of pink in his hair can be found in his fringe, which curls over his right eye. There's usually faint stubble across his jawline, and he flat-out refuses to wear glasses (he'll say it's because he doesn't want anyone missing out on his 'cute chocolate eyes'. Don't believe him. He just doesn't like them and won't humour the idea of contacts). Despite this, he's still athletic, and can move surprisingly fast if you aren't prepared.

He's still a reporter, though these days he's taken a bit of a back seat. His work in the studio is helping the Jims and others who are making their presence known on camera. When he does interview, that reckless, gun-wielding side comes out in full force... But it's more akin to an act than anything truthful to who he is.

Instead, his priority is the Moonlight Roller. It's the reclaimed disco setting of M.otherloving that was redecorated and given a whole new lease of life. I go into a LOT more detail here, but in brief: it is a roller rink, amusement arcade, diner, and bar that is located both in a real location and in between the worlds and stories. If a character needs a break, they'll find a door to the Roller.

Personality-wise, Wilf is still eccentric, but it's closer to a 'weird uncle' mixed with a cartoon character. He's normally upbeat and childish, though he does have his more serious moments. He'll still take time to voice whatever odd thought crosses his mind on the dash, or go directly to another blog if he wants an answer or opinion on something. And to my surprise, he's even tried to be the stereotypical 'bartender who listens to others' woes'. I never thought that would happen! How did that happen?? He used to be notorious for putting his foot in his mouth!

As for his abilities? He's got the abilities to lift things in and out of pocket dimensions. He always has a weapon on his person, even if there's little reason for it these days. He can blink out of existence or disappear if eyes are off him, and use doors as a way to teleport/take shortcuts. This can sometimes land him in different timelines or eras, not that he minds. He's got impeccable aim, and he usually only misses if he chooses to. That's not mentioning his ability to use any weapon after a brief examination with startlingly good skill.

By the way. You can kill him, but he won't stay dead. He'll come back to pester you about it in a few days.

-

This blog also has William, but I don't need to talk about any potential differences. What you saw in WKM is what you get, essentially. His height was rather unusual for his time, and he absolutely used this to his advantage to add to the intimidation factor. He was a loyal friend, but also not the nicest person to be friends with. And if he didn't know you? Good luck!

Sometimes, you may see someone called Liam. This is a 'what-if' timeline where Celine never arrived, resulting in William's death and him taking the role of 'the villain'. Despite the 'what-if', this was actually the intended plan, where William would die, and everyone else would leave, alive and safe. This goes into more detail about that. In brief, his main distinguishing factor is his paralysed left arm as a result of the fatal injury he received during the gun confrontation with the Detective.

[souenkun]

Life update: my brain feels like scrambled eggs but I've also started going on short walks with my cat, and it turns out to be a nice routine. Apologies to messages and ao3 comments that I haven't been able to reply; I'll get to them soon! 🫂

[fatexbound]

@galaxythixf | Moved from X

She thought about him that much? Talk about a big surprise - and it wasn't a lie, either. Now his face was as red as his old headphones as he nervously scratched the side of his cheeks. "Wow, damn... me neither, but I didn't think I was that attractive either... huh." He'd say this was good luck instead of a coincidence since she didn't seem interested in anyone else but him. Heck, they even shared their first kiss! He should be happy, and he was happy this way.

This was how it should be. They're both happy, giddy with those butterflies and he wouldn't ask for anything else. The more he listened, the more he shared those exact sentiments. "Yeah, same here! It's... really something that makes me happy to be here with you." The way his heart beat around her should've been an early sign of how much he truly cared about her, and now... it's any hopeless romantic's dream to get together with the girl he loves.

Of course, he denied it at first, but not anymore.

His offered hand was taken with such enthusiasm, it shocked him. Her face was cute to look at like that... all eager to get some grub with him. Her question caught him a little off guard, though. "Share? Oh yeah, sure! Why not?" He laughed lightly, and cringed a little when his hand was accidentally squeezed. "Ow-- I'm okay." He quickly reassured her and pulled her up to her feet.

"Our beef bowl awaits!" He darted off downstairs with her, holding her hand tightly while trying to ignore the weird looks they got.

[lucius-the-literary-lunatic]

Callings - Blood Bound

it wasn't unusual for Astarion to catch Florin staring at him, either with homicidal hunger or adoration. tonight it was an odd combination of both, the former fading into the latter as the night carried on.

A: You're staring again, my sweet.

F: Not accustom yet?

A: Oh, I am. However I'm still get used to the wide range of your stares. Not even ten minutes ago you were looking at me like you wanted to skin me alive, now it seems like I'm the most precious thing in existence.

F: I can't see why both can't be true.

lopsided smile on his face Rin didn't bother moving his gaze, he was enjoying his view too much; how the elf was laid across his lap, caressed in moonlight. rolling his eyes astarion looked up at his partner, reminding himself not to get lost in the green flames staring back at him.

A: You look as though you wish to be my mirror again.

F: As willing as I always am to call you beautiful, that isn't what's on my mind tonight.

A: Oh? Well now I'm just oozing with curiosity.

florin's smile faltered for a second, tongue mindlessly tracing his fangs as he looked at his star while his his fingers toyed with the laces of his shirt.

F: What do you think your name would've been? If you hadn't died when you did.

A: No one would have called me 'Stari', that's for certain.

astarion hadn't realized he missed florin's true meaning until the tiefling spoke up.

F: It means Little Star, right? Astarion?

A: It does... Yes...

slowing coming to understand what his lover was asking, astarion's hand met florin's at the collar of his shirt, fingers fidgetting with the rings on the other mans hand.

F: You hadn't even lived half of your elfling life, you were always their little star. What do you think your parents would've called you as an adult? Astar, since you wouldn't be so little anymore? Maybe they'd change it up completely and go with something like Arcas, hoping you wouldn't be a lone star any longer but a captivating constellation...

realizing his usually vocal vampire hadn't offered any sass or quips in a bit florin let the question hang in the air; while he had asked florin was more than okay with the silence. neither of them were good with their pasts, both choosing to brushing it away than let the memories remain.

[beneathsilverstars]

me seeing a post on my tl that i've seen before: i can't remember if i added this to my queue last time, maybe i should do that...

me seeing it again w some interesting tags: ooh good point i should add that concept to my notes-

oomfies. i was the one who reblogged it w the interesting tags

[un-pearable]

[bereft-of-frogs]

I have stuff to work on. I made a whole list like 2 hours ago.

But also what if I start plotting an unnecessarily convoluted longfic with a similarly obnoxious list of references??? hm????

[starmagicked-a]

tag dump !!

[not-poignant]

i love your writing! one of my personal faves of yours is The Wind That Cuts The Night- i would marry it if i could!! and random question but would you ever consider writing for Alex and Elliot again? also how are you today? agh

Hi anon!

I don't really feel any particularly urge to write Alex/Elliott again, but I won't rule out out. It's like a... 'I have like 5 years' worth of writing I want to get to so maybe I'll feel like it in 6 years?'

I might feel like it earlier, but I also might not. I really feel like I got to tell the majority of Alex's and Elliott's story and if I ever wrote them again, it would be small additions to The Wind that Cuts the Night universe and not anything new. I don't feel driven to write any other narrative with them unfortunately, I'm sorry anon!

As for me, I'm doing okay-ish today. Feeling a bit lost, but I did manage to write a 4,100 chapter for Underline the Black and I'm going to make some lunch soon. I might do some art after lunch but I'm not sure. The lost feeling is weird, might be a PTSD thing! I'm sure I'll find out soon enough. :D

I hope you're doing well!

[wranglens]

tags 1.0 .

╰ ゜OUT OF CHARA.  *  NOT ANOTHER GOD DAMN HICK KAT. ╰ ゜SAVE.  *  THIS IS MINE NOW ! GET YOUR OWN ! ╰ ゜OUT OF CHARACTER.  *  STARTER CALL. ╰ ゜IN CHARACTER.  *  STARTER. ╰ ゜IN CHARACTER.  *  THREAD. ╰ ゜OUT OF CHARACTER.  *  ANSWERED. ╰ ゜IN CHARACTER.  *  ANSWERED. ╰ ゜OUT OF CHARACTER.  *  DASH COMMENTARY.

╰ ゜STUDY.  *  RENEGADE REBEL WITH A PEDAL TO THE FLOOR. ╰ ゜MUSING.  *  DOWN THE SAME OLD DEAD END HIGHWAY. ╰ ゜MANNERISM.  *  SCARED OF NOTHIN &. SCARED TO DEATH. ╰ ゜HEADCANON.  *  I KEEP CHASIN THAT SAME OLD DEVIL. ╰ ゜SKILLS.  *  THE SAME RED RIVER TRIED TO DROWN ME. ╰ ゜AESTHETIC.  *  RIDIN IN ON THE WIND AND RAIN. ╰ ゜ART.  *  WHEN WHISKEY BURNS &. THE NICOTINE HITS. ╰ ゜MUSIC.  *  I PRAY FOR PEACE BUT I NEED THE THRILL. ╰ ゜SELF PROMO.  *  TELL THE SUNSHINE TO TAKE A BREAK. ╰ ゜PROMO.  *  JUST THE WHISTLE OF A LONG BLACK TRAIN. ╰ ゜MEME.  *  CARRY ME AWAY LIKE THE MISSISSIPPI ROLLS. ╰ ゜WISHLIST.  *  ROLLIN TWENTY ONE WITH AN ACE &. QUEEN. ╰ ゜EDITS.  *  RUNNIN OFF THE EDGE THEY SAY I'M A WRECK. ╰ ゜CRACK.  *  I KEEP RUNNIN BUT I'M STANDIN STILL. ╰ ゜QUEUE.  *  AIN'T NO LOVE IN OKQUEUEHOMA.

[strawberriesmiles]

My tarot cards just wanted to insult me at first and I started to cry and reshuffled and was like “can you give this to me concisely and not meanly???” And the Lady I was asking for advice probably took one look at my teary eyes and was like “oh he can’t handle blunt rn. Okay, retry”

[wcvensouls]

drabble : jin kyungtae & lee soobin — break up .

KYUNGTAE’S POV .

almost two months. 

it had been precisely seven weeks since they had started dating.

even longer since kyungtae realized he had feelings for his friend.

but it had now been three weeks since he came to terms that things were not going to work out.

jin kyungtae might be a sweet and gentle person, but he was not stupid. he knew this was not the first one of his friends got a crush on him, but it was the first time anything was done about it.

oh, soobin. he was so pretty, so lively and so fun. he was everything kyungtae thought he wasn’t, and he adored him for it. 

the romantic feelings that grew between them were something that hadn’t really been there before. yet, someday, kyungtae had found himself looking at his friend in a different way. they spent a great deal of time together as it was, but he still remembered that day in particular so perfectly. it was the middle of competition season and he had picked up soobin from practice because he wanted to make sure he had taken some time to relax despite all the training hours. waiting for the other to finish up, he had stood by the sidelines watching him skate through the ice with an elegance that he had never really seen anyone else have.

however, that wasn’t really the reason why kyungtae had realized that maybe he saw his friend as something more than just that. it was the way soobin had abandoned his routine the moment he spotted him, skating to the edge with the biggest and brightest smile on his lips despite looking visibly exhausted.

ah, that sight made his heart skip a beat.

kyungtae had always been someone to fall a little too easily, but he had always been good at keeping it to himself when it came to his friends. after all, he didn’t want to make things awkward with people he cared so deeply about, people he saw as his found family.

however, how could kyungtae resist it when soobin was so charming and involving, so determined to turn them into something more? 

although he had pinned after the other for months, it had taken a shockingly short amount of time for something to happen once his friend had set his eyes on kyungtae.

that first kiss… oh, it was so explosive. it was like there were fireworks inside his chest, his entire body feeling warm and tingly all over. kyungtae never wanted it to end. he wanted to kiss those soft lips more and more, taste the lip gloss that always made them look so perfectly shiny.

and they really had kissed a lot. for a month, it was all they had done, at any given opportunity. it was like soobin could not see the model standing or sitting anywhere without coming closer, wrapping his arms around him and tugging him down for a kiss that lasted until both of them needed to catch air.

over time, however, those kisses became less intense and frequent as they used to be. more like something they should do rather than something they wanted to.

well, when it came to soobin, at least. kyungtae still very much cherished every little touch or gesture of affection, so desperately craving more of it. but he knew that soobin did not feel the same anymore, and he was never one to force things on others or to confront them about it. so, instead, he let things run their natural course, as if dreading saying it out loud and making it real.

still, there was only so much denying that kyungtae could do  —  and now, here they were.

he could see soobin poking at the food without ever touching it, and he knew that, if he asked, he’d simply say that he was tired and not hungry. kyungtae knew better than that, though, and he knew there was something gnawing at his heart.

it was just a matter of when he was going to say it.

soobin had always been a stubborn guy, they all knew that. although things were not working between them for awhile now, kyungtae also knew that he wanted it to work. whether because soobin didn’t want to upset him or because he didn’t want to admit that he had been wrong, kyungtae knew that he was trying his hardest.

in some ways, he appreciated it.

in others… well, it made everything hurt a little more.

but he pushed through.

after all, he had no intention of making soobin felt bad over something neither of them could control, and he didn’t plan on telling him that he still felt the same as he did on the very first day that they had kissed.

“ we should talk. ”

kyungtae hadn’t expected things to happen at that evening, but, looking at the expression on his soon to be ex-boyfriend’s face was simply unbearable. he just wanted things to end, so that they could go back to normal.

anything would be better than this.

his tone had been soft and gentle, as it always was, but it made soobin’s eyes widen as he looked up to the other, as if his guilt made him immediately realize what this was about.

however, as their gazes met, soobin was faced by a warm smile  —  so warm that it hid any traces of sadness kyungtae felt in his heart.

soobin didn’t dare say anything, a silence hanging between them for a few beats before kyungtae spoke again, determined to see this through now that he had started.

“ it is nothing you have done, and it’s not your fault. ”

did you ever love me? why did you stop?

“ i’m not upset, so i don’t want you to feel bad, okay? ”

it hurts and i want to cry.

“ i just think we both know that… this is over, isn’t it? ”

i wish it wasn’t.

“ there’s no point in holding onto it anymore, it just… wasn’t meant to be. ”

soobin had yet to say a word, but it was clear on his features that this was all finally sinking in, shoulders slumping slightly the more kyungtae continued.

he reached a hand over the table to grab onto soobin’s, giving it a light squeeze as he forced his smile to grow even larger than before.

“ soobin-ah… let’s be friends again. ”