ego-writings

[ego-writings]

Visiting Wilford

Pairing: Wilford / Reader Tags:  Fluff, Mention of Death Word Count: 302 Prompt:   "listen- listen. i’m thicc ok so wilford being a thigh guy gives me l i f e. like sir. sir. please lay across my lap so i can play with your hair. thanks. also maybe take a nap with me while we’re at it-" Tagging: @iwouldfuckwilfordwarfstache​ (Thanks for letting me use your asks as prompts!)

Read this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409605/chapters/54934714

It had been a long day for Wilford, a lot of preparation for the interview, some troubles with too many dead bodies people trying to butt in and then Kathryn scolded him for no reason at all! He didn't kill them, they just fell and then didn't want to get up. Thankfully his best friend, after Dark of course, had waited for him in his changing room. It was their first time visiting him at work. Bursting through the door he ripped his friend out of their daydream and practically threw himself onto the couch beside them, eliciting a chuckle out of their mouth.

“So, how has it been after the… uh… accident?”, they asked with mild curiosity. They only saw a white body bag being dragged out. The people removing it seemed nonchalant about it. Does this happen often around here? He shrugged and, with a dramatic swing to the side, plopped his head on their lap: “Ah don’t worry your pretty head about silly things like this. I hope you had fun getting a tour of the studio?”

“It was wonderful!”, they started excitedly, carding their fingers through his hair. They didn’t seem to notice their action as they rambled on about all the fantastic things they had seen, but Wilford didn’t mind it one bit. He found it cute about how they recalled meeting famous people, getting makeup done by a real makeup artist and trying on different costumes of his, and your lap was comfortable – he would need to lay on it more often!

At one point in their story they noticed a light snoring coming from below them. Looking down they are met with Wilford’s snoring face. He needed a bubble coming from his nose and he would look like he came straight out of a comic. They giggled and resumed stroking through his soft hair, this time more lightly. What a silly, silly man.

[ego-writings]

Formal attire

Pairing: Wilford / Reader Tags:  Fluff, A bit of comedy Word Count: 640 Prompt:   "I’m not a woman who wears dresses often - even in formal occasions I’ll usually wear trousers and a dress shirt. I firmly believe that Wilford would just lose his shit if he saw his S/O in a shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit trousers. Bonus points if you’ve got suspenders. He would go into heart eyes mode." Tagging: @iwouldfuckwilfordwarfstache​ (Thanks for letting me use your asks as prompts!)

Read this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409605/chapters/54731635

Le  B al   de   le  S aule   P leureur  – an event  Wilford  had been invited to by Dar k  and a whole mouthful as well . Of course, he accepted it. What party would be complete without THE Wilford  Warfstache attending?  Since he was allowed to bring a plus  one,   he asked his  favourite  cupcake  to accompany him to the event.   He was excited at the thought to be able to spend a whole night with  them  by his side, both of  them  dancing and having a good time  twirling around and eating delicious food.  

Since  Wilford   told them  the dress code for this  was  to be  formal,  they rummaged through their dresser   for a fitting outfit, something easy to move in and not too  colourful  – let’s leave this to  Wilford . After having selected a few  items and  putting together what would look best together they decided for the best option:  a simple, white dress shirt and black slacks , held up by a pair of black suspenders Wilford gifted them on one of their dates .  Yep, this will be enough...  hopefully ... maybe?  

Days passed and soon the day of the event arrived.  Wilford  told  them  he’d meet  them  at the venue due to his busy schedule beforehand, apologizing profusely and telling  them  he would make it up to  them  later .  A bit disappointed but excited  about the  prospect  to dance with  Wilford  all night long they accepted his apology  and told him not to worry , they would go ahead and wait inside for him .  

Half an hour later than he origin ally planned he arrived at the  event himself .  Thankfully his wardrobe back at the studio was also equipped with  formal clothing – black dress shoes, pink trousers, white dress shirt with a yellow vest on top, pink  suit jacket and, to top it off, a pink cylinder.  He found it as he went through the props closet. He had wondered where it went, the last time he saw it  they  were  fumbling around with it , telling him  they  needed to go to the bathroom . He had always wondered why  they  would go to the bathroom with his cylinder, but  they  probably just mixed  the two places up .   Happy to show them his finding he went inside, looking through the crowd of dancing people.  

As soon as he  spotted them however his eyes went wide. They were laughing, talking to  D ark near an open window. It seems that  they  had already been dancing with him.  Their sleeves were rolled up and they had to fan air into their red face.  They turned towards the crowd and saw Wilford standing in the middle, staring at them with an open mouth. Waving towards him to join them at the window they were more than... happy, to see that  (not) wonderful cylinder back. The next time they would need to hide it on the roof, or maybe in  Bim’s  office?  

“Excuse me, dear. It seems that I am called by a few sponsors. I wish you and Wil a nice evening ”, said Dark close to their ear for them to hear above all of the noise and made an exit to leave the two lovebirds alone. Looking towards Dark’s retreat ing form they were surprised when two, strong arms suddenly wrapped around them, pulling them into a bone crushing hug.  

“Hello there, cupcake. I see you and Dark had fun without  me? ~ ” Looking up they were met with a big smile  and wiggling eyebrows. They snorted and gently slapped his chest: “Just because you were late. Care for a dance? ”  

He would need to tell them how lovely they looked , not that he would go a day without doing so. “I’d love  to. ”  

[ego-writings]

Of tea and sleep

Pairing: Wilford / Reader Tags:  Fluff, Slight angst (Just to be sure) Word Count: 510 Prompt:  "I just,, wanna play with his hair?? It seems like it would be floofy and soft,, like,,, I wanna cuddle him and play with his hair,," Tagging: @iwouldfuckwilfordwarfstache​ (Thanks for letting me use your asks as prompts!)

Read this story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22409605/chapters/53541190

It has been a nice and calm evening. The sun is slowly setting and flooding the room in a calm orange. Wilford is sitting on the couch with his back against the couch pillow, leaning back as far as he can, his head laying lazily at the top. His eyes are closed - he looks peaceful, content. It is quiet, something he appreciates every once in a while. His mind has wandered off, thinking of new ideas or candidates for his TV show before slowly drifting of to sleep.

In the meantime you are standing in the kitchen, preparing the tea Wilford requested just a few minutes ago. The steaming flavour of tea brewing inside the pot tells you it is ready to be served. Putting two tea cups onto the plate beside the pot and taking the plate's handles into your hands you carry it carefully towards the living room table sitting before Wilford. As you reach forward to put everything down you notice that Wilford is more quiet than usual. You glance towards his face and smile. His face is calm, the only indication that he is alive is the slow rise and fall of his chest. You turn back towards the tea, take the tea pot and pour some of it into both cups. Steam rises from them which dissipates shortly after into the air. Since you know that Wilford would sleep at least until the tea is cold without you waking him up you decide for something you haven't tried before.

With light steps you make your way behind Wilford, standing barely a few inches from the couch. You reach out for his hair with your hands and feel the soft texture you were able to feel many times before again. Your head is above his, thumbs starting to massage his scalp in tiny circles, not with enough pressure to make him wake up instantly, but to gently pull him away from his daydreams. When he does wake up and open his eyes, you are instantly swept away by the emotion inside them. A warm spark resides inside them, nothing short of adoration and pure love, one of which not many have the luck of receiving. Wilford raises his hands towards you face and gently places them on your cheeks. He smiles up at you as he brushes his thumbs against your skin. It is different from the ones he usually wears. This time it is not out of fun or excitement, but out of thankfulness, of something that delves even deeper into his feelings. Something he hasn't felt in a very long time. His hands guide your face closer to his until his lips brush against your forehead.

You stand like this for a long time until the tea eventually becomes cold. It has been a long time since Wilford has been able to hold someone else like this. But now that he has you, safe between his hands, he may be able to heal what the past has once taken from him.

His little teacup.