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leighsartworks216 · 2 years ago

Note

Oh, if it’s songs you need to listen to, then boy howdy, I got a request for you!

In lieu of the absolute tragedy I’ve asked for in the past, perhaps we could do a Warfstache x Reader based on Livin’ It Up On Top where the reader is still the DA, but it’s more of a happier piece where the DA returns to the egos after each of Mark’s adventures, and Warfstache heads the celebration for it?

~ 🌺

I am SO sorry this took so long. My brain unexpectedly switched from hyperfixating on egos to like 4 different fandoms and it hasn't switched back to egos yet

This isn't really based on the song (I couldn't get into it sorry) but you've been waiting so so long and my brain is kinda mush so here's headcanons on Wilf welcoming you back home after an adventure w Mark instead

Warnings: mentions of food and drink but it's not specified what

Masterlist

AO3

Acting as a main character in one of Mark’s stories is exhausting

Esp when you weren’t trained to be an actor

But you weren’t really an acting DA anymore after “the incident we don’t talk about”, so Mark dragging you along on make believe adventures was the best option

Sometimes you’d be gone for a week, other times you’d be gone for months

(One time you were gone for a whole year)

When you would be back was always relayed to the Egos, but sometimes Wilford knew before anybody else

They would get the message you’re returning tomorrow and Wilford has already been planning for a week off a “hunch”

He always makes sure your favorite food is prepared - everything from snacks to dessert

He sets up banners and streamers and large stereos, usually with help from the Jims

The moment you step into the door, you’re greeted with your favorite music, favorite food and drinks, and the man who planned it all pulling you into his arms in a bone-crushing hug

Wilf always calls you cute little nicknames too like “sugarplum”, “sweetheart”, etc etc

When you’re finally released from the hug, he always asks how the adventure was and gave you absolute free reign to rant about Actor to him

All the while he’s looking you up and down, making sure you’re not hurt or actually too tired to have a party

He doesn’t even know he does it, he’s brimming with too much energy to notice

You’re never hurt, thankfully (God knows what he would do to Actor if you were)

But if he sees you’re too tired for the party he set up, he slings an arm around your shoulders and in a snap you’re both upstairs in your room, already dressed in PJs

The food and drinks (or maybe a copy of them? You still weren’t sure) also managed to find their way spread along your desk

Wilf would act as a little servant, bringing you drinks and food (if you wanted any) and making sure you were totally comfortable

He always beelines right for the dessert, cursed with the world’s worst sweet tooth

And you’ll hang out, mindlessly talking about anything and everything you missed or experienced, sometimes sharing bites of each other’s food

Everybody else (who cared to take part in the celebration) could rock it up downstairs all the while you relaxed upstairs

If you weren’t too tired from your long excursion, Wilf would drag you along into the party

He’d reintroduce everyone like you were meeting them for the first time, but everyone would play along and welcome you back

You’d have to say hi to Dark later; he hates parties of any kind, and Wilford can only drag him into one so many times

Some of the egos would give you hugs, but if Wilford thought they were lingering too long, he’d drag you to the next person and glare at whoever the offender was (He’s jealous shh don’t tell him)

You could eat, drink, dance, whatever until the sun came up

But Wilford would always stick close by, prepared to carry you upstairs and tuck you in when the exhaustion finally hit

Because no matter how much he loves parties, he loves you more

---

Tag List:

@writeawaythepain

@hyperfixat

@cryptidjester

@your-voice-is-mellifluous

#fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier #markiplier egos #wilford warfstache #wilfordmotherlovingwarfstache #wilford warfstache x reader #x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #headcanons #request #requested

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fictionalsownme · 2 months ago

Text

More Than A Woman | wilford warfstache x gn!viewer / reader |

chapter one - "I've known you very well"

A/N: hi everyone!! I'm so excited to post this! Usually I spend a long time on the stuff I write but I wrote a good chunk of this in a feverish burst haha, I've been wanting to write for Wil and had such a clear idea of how I see him in my head for so long :)) This fic will probably be around 10 chapters~ish and progress will probably be a little slow but I'm also trying to get faster at my writing so I guess we'll see! Getting it down is always the hardest, then you spend a bit of time hating it, then the fixing can start! Anyway, I hope you guys like this, I love this dorky weirdo a lot for whatever reason, and I'd love to write for other egos too :) ((there might be a guest appearance or two in here in the last few chapters if plans don't change 👀)) hope you guys enjoy the first chapter at least! lmk 🥰! word count: 2.9k notes: reader is gender-neutral, similar to all of mark's stuff :) -- the title is just after the song! no pronouns or descriptors are used other than the occasional they/them. reader is the viewer (& district attorney) from wkm, adwm, ahwm, iswm, etc, but that won't come up until later. wmlw wilford. story will be mostly fluff, some hurt/comfort & angst, lots of romance and flirting! story is adapted from an idea I had for my self insert. we will get into some lore stuff (or at least my understanding of the lore 👀) and filling in gaps with headcannons, but it's mostly about wilford & reader and I'll try to explain as we go so don't worry about it too much if you don't know all of it. especially since I don't know if my understanding is always 100% accurate 👉👈 let's have fun yall! 💞

masterlist | AO3

The music playing softly over the convenience store speakers was pleasant, if slightly boring. Like elevator music— there only to help ease the passing of time. Your night shift would end soon, and the sky could be seen as it lightened more every minute through the windowed front of the building.

Other than that, the old store was quiet. Dusty. Pink and orange neon strips lined the walls near the ceiling. They overpowered the dated fluorescent lights, casting everything in a slightly peach haze. Like a dream.

Different sections of the store were marked with neon too, the letters glowed against the wall denoting the drinks, the snacks, the hot food… You liked your little store. Even if the unyielding isolation of your work made you a bit… complacent. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d truly talked with someone.

The ice creams chilled your fingers through the wrappers as you pulled them from their box and slotted them into place. Even with the cold air of the freezer wafting over you, you could smell the cool summer air coming in the sliding front doors.

You liked to prop them open on dawns like these. The convenience store lights did draw in the occasional pestering bug, but they usually found their way out again before long. You did get a bat once. Albeit a little crazed and frantic, you were surprised to find it harmless. Maybe a little lost. Now that thing seemed like it would never leave.

Refocusing on your task, you brushed your condensation-soaked fingers on your work apron, tied tight behind your neck and around your back, and shut the freezer door.

The motion alert chimed a pleasant tune through the staticky old speakers as a customer entered the open doors from the street.

You called an automatic, “Welcome in~,” and went about straightening a shelf of snack bars and chocolate. You didn’t bother to look in their direction as you heard them make their way through the aisles.

“Pardon me,” said their strange, nearly British accent from beside you now. You turned to the source of the voice, the man who’d just walked in, and your eyes went to his outfit first.

A silky-- almost sparkly in how it caught the light-- lavender shirt with mismatched buttons revealed expanses of his bare chest. It was paired with white bell-bottoms and a fake pink afro hanging half-off his head, about to fall off. He had olive skin and dark hair-- nearly black--, fluffy and sticking up every which way like hands had been running through it. Scruffy facial hair framed a thick mustache that tinted slightly pink where it turned up at the ends.

He looked… honestly, he looked ridiculous. But the 70s getup was fun, you supposed. And his eyes-- dark brown and monolid-- were handsome. Underneath all the… extra mess. You blinked, slowly, in a way that felt like waking up.

“Uh, hi. Are you coming from a costume party or something?” It was August, but you supposed it was never too early to start the spooky season.

“Oh! Do you know of one? I do love a good costume. But no. Just the regular-sort. Just woke up from one.” He scanned the products near his head, grabbed a protein bar, sniffed the wrapper, guffawed, and put it back.

“You just woke up? Are you alright?”

“Oh, worry not, friend, this is normal for my level of reverie! I’m not even hungover!” He laughed, his hands going to his hips.

You stared at him.

“I was just looking for something to gnaw on! To nourish myself before I’m on my way.” His eyes were still traveling all over, not really seeing you.

Now in theory, a strange man coming in at this hour, acting even stranger, with his clothes disheveled? You knew you should be on your way to your safe space behind the counter to get him checked out and exiting the store as fast as possible. But there was something about him…

Something you couldn’t place…

Instead you raised your eyebrows and relaxed against the cooler door. “Uh, I guess that depends on what kind of food you like,” You offered. After a moment, his gaze landed on you and he seemed to finally take you in. Your uniform, your crossed arms, your patient expression, your features. His face scrunched into confusion.

A moment passed, staring at each other like that. “Your shirt’s looking a little rough, you know.”

“Have we met, friend?” He asked as he began to fix his buttons.

You watched passively as more of his chest came into view. He either didn’t notice or didn’t mind your blatant staring. You weren’t sure why you were staring, or what you were feeling as you did so.

You weren’t gawking at his abs or anything-- well,-- not that he didn’t have abs. He did, sort of. The expanse of his chest and abdomen were tight with toned muscle. He definitely wasn’t lacking abs, anyway. Either way… this was about something different.

You wondered for a moment if a vague familiarity was what you were picking up on, but quickly dismissed it.

“I feel like I’d remember meeting you.”

You realized with a start that your comment could be seen as flirtatious, and added quickly, “Just, you know-- generally.”

But he just hummed and spun on his heels, turning away. You sighed and found yourself in-step behind him, hands in your uniform pockets. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Well, either way!” He started, his energy returning tenfold. “Let's see what this cute little shop has to eat!”

For some reason, you asked, “Do you have money?”

He froze. “Er, no~. You don’t mind, do you?”

“Mind what?”

“Well, spotting me of course! Let’s just say I owe you one, eh friend?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling. “Thought so.”

Thought so? Maybe you did know him…

It was your turn to squint in displaced confusion. “What’s your name?”

His voice came from behind you and you spun around, your shoes squeaking on the tile floor. When did he sneak around you?

He bent over and twirled his hand, a flamboyant bow finally knocking the afro off his head. “Wilford Warfstache, at your service.”

“That’s your name?”

He righted himself. “For now.” It suited him well enough, but for some reason it sounded misplaced.

… But no, either way, you definitely hadn’t met him before. You didn’t know many people in the first place, let alone someone so eccentric.

Still, you were curious about him. Curious about his personality and who he was. He felt sort of like a puzzle waiting to be solved. And so far, despite his quirks, despite how admittedly weird you’d also been acting, he’d been friendly. You couldn’t say the staring and prodding questions were too in-character for you. At least not when it came to customers.

His hair looked softer without the wig to weigh it down-- parted at his brow and long enough to fluff over the tips of his ears and end where his neck met his spine. You reached down to scoop the curly mop of synthetic hair up off the floor.

“Where did you get this thing?”

He hummed something like ‘I don’t know’, his eyes sort of wide like a clueless puppy’s.

“What, you just kind of have it?”

“Yea’p.”

You squinted at him, a smirk forming on your lips. “How about I do you a favor and throw this away?”

He shrugged, hummed an ‘alright’ sound, and turned away.

“Oh no, I was kidding! God, here--!” You had to grab his wrist to stop him from wandering off further and placed the pink afro in his hand.

You had just been trying to tease him, but now you just felt bad. “Look, Wilford, you want something to eat? We have to throw the hot food out every night. You can have a taquito or a slice of pizza or something if you want.”

Then he was frozen again-- staring down at where your fingers wrapped around his wrist. Your eyes followed his gaze down and then you were staring too.

A moment passed. Then two. Finally, you let go and crossed your arms again, tucking your hands away where they couldn’t embarrass you again.

“... Fuck, I’m sorry. I-I don’t know why I did that.” You did your best to clear your throat.

But he was still stuck there. He blinked a few times and his gaze met your eyes, his brows gathering together.

“Wh-What did you say your name was, friend?” He seemed so… serious all of sudden. So dire.

You hadn’t mentioned it yet, but told him with a hesitant voice.

His expression blanked, eyes widening. He brought his arm, the offending afro in tow, to his chest, touching his wrist where you’d held it.

“Oh…”

You raised your brows and asked softly, “Sorry, do you know me, then?”

“Hm?” And he blinked like his mind was clearing, like he’d forgotten you were there.

He cleared his throat, smiled-- ear to ear-- his mustache lopsided like a cartoon. “Oh-- nevermind about that! Some food would be lovely, if you don’t mind.”

His eyes were sparkling.

“Sure. I mean, it’s nothing fancy. Here,” And you walked over towards the front counter. Wilford trailed close behind you-- holding onto the wig in his hands like a school kid holding a lunch box-- his gaze wandering over the store again like he hadn’t seen it the first time.

You arrived at the hot foods section, a glassed-off section of day-old food over heated rods. You shrugged. “If you have a sensitive stomach, maybe don’t,” you started, “but it’s mostly fine to be honest. I eat it if I’m in a pinch, you know.”

You hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs facing Wilford, and leaned back to reach around and grab the tongs waiting there. You straightened and clapped them together twice. You offered him a smile. “What’ll it be, Mr. Warfstache?” Then a quieter, “--that was your last name right?”

“Do you gravitate towards anything yourself?”

“Can’t go wrong with a slice of pizza, I guess. Even here.”

His smile grew sort of soft. “Then that. If you please.”

“You got it.”

You leaned over again and served up the slice of moderately warm and slightly greasy pizza on a brown napkin and passed it off to him.

“Much obliged.”

You got one for yourself too, and when you righted and your eyes found Wilford again, he was sitting in a retro-style diner chair you’d never seen before-- his feet against the edge of the counter beside you.

You couldn’t help the surprised laughter that choked out of you. “Wha-- where did you even find that?”

The chair teetered on its two legs as he leaned precariously back, tilting his head at your question. The pink wig sat in his lap and you couldn’t help thinking it looked like some weird dog.

“Well, there’s no need to worry! I’m only borrowing it, I’m not a barbarian.”

And you just knew you weren’t getting more of an answer than that.

“So who even are you?” You asked as he took a bite of the pizza, somehow pulling all the cheese right off the top in one piece. He pouted down at the offending mozzarella, slurping it into his mouth and swallowing it. “Do you live around here?”

“Mm. I don’t really live anywhere. Much more the exploring-- ever on the move-- type.”

He was so expressive. It really felt like talking to an old cartoon come-to-life or something. You turned to lean against the side of the glass cover, swinging your legs so your feet rested on the counter, not far from his still against the edge. You weren’t touching at all, but you were surprised at how quickly the two of you fell into a casual-- albeit timidly curious-- rhythm.

“So what do you do?” And you began to eat too.

He beamed, his smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “I’m an interviewer! Warfstache Tonight, that’s what my show is called! It’s quite a professional endeavor!”

You smiled and hummed around your bite of pizza, impressed. That actually explained a lot. And it suited him nicely enough. “Sounds pretty glamorous.”

“And what about you? You can’t just be a convenience store clerk!” He seemed so affronted by the idea. Crinkling his nose, dropping his voice an octave. “How dreadfully boring.”

You winced. “‘Just a convenience store clerk?’ Ouch, Wilford…” You couldn’t help frowning down at your slice.

“Oh! No no, pardon me!” He let the chair fall back to four legs, waving the idea way with a panicked hand. “I only meant that… this isn't what truly stirs your passions, is it? Do you do anything at your leisure? For work or just… something you enjoy?”

You squinted at him. But you didn’t really think he was trying to insult you. And he wasn’t wrong. It just… wasn’t always the most fun when someone pointed it out. Especially like that.

You sighed, fidgeting as you considered his question. “Not right now… This job keeps me pretty occupied. But you know, it’s not too bad. It keeps me, I don’t know, grounded I guess.”

He thought for a moment, then nodded, taking another bite. “I do hope you get more opportunities soon, then.” He said, surprisingly grounded.

You looked at him. “... Thanks.” And you meant it.

“And… my apologies for the earlier, uh, miswording.”

“That’s fine… I’d be curious to hear more about your show, though! Have you interviewed anyone interesting or anything?”

A beat. A sort of tiredness settled into his shoulders and he peered up at you. “The odd gold-star guest did wander in from time to time. I’m not sure if my skills were quite deserving of them at the time.”

Was that… shame?

“The truth is, I couldn’t quite live up to the role. I--” He laughed, pained. He cleared his throat. “I’m taking a bit of a break from show business for the moment.”

Ah. So that’s what happened. You offered him a sympathetic smile. “To party? That’s probably why you don’t have any money, Wilford. And why you have to rely on shitty convenience store food?” You held up your greasy napkin like it was evidence.

“Now don’t underestimate the power of a good party! And this food is fine, I’m grateful for it,” He crumpled the now empty napkin and gestured wildly with it. “The truth is I get by just fine. I’m just not sure what else I should be doing.”

You looked out the front windows. The sky was getting lighter. The timer marking the end of your shift would go off any minute.

So maybe that’s why he’d been asking you about your passions. You felt bad for him. He was strange, to be sure. And a little hard to follow. But he was also… sweet. He had a softness about him.

And still… there was that feeling that hadn’t disappeared since meeting him. Like… like your soul recognized him. Maybe not deeply. But distantly. Like you’d met him in a dream. It was a ridiculous notion. Ridiculous didn’t seem beyond his territory.

You turned, legs coming down from the counter once again. You leaned forward, your hand landing at the junction of his shoulder and neck. His silk shirt was soft under your fingers. His eyes jumped up to yours and you looked down at him with a smile.

“You liked doing your show right? You want to be an interviewer?”

He nodded slowly. His lashes fluttered.

“Then that’s what you should be doing! You just have to try again!” You shrugged with one shoulder. “It might suck a lot. And you might fail again. But pick yourself back up. Keep going. I’m sure you can do it if you keep at it and think outside the box, you know. Failing only means failing if you stop.”

You leaned back, your hand sliding away. He stared at you.

“That’s what the rest of us do, anyway. Honestly, maybe you should do your show online! You know, livestream it or something. I’m sure you’d find your own way to it.”

Slowly, a smile crept back in, the corners of his eyes creasing.

“What a wonderful idea…”

God, his eyes…

You looked down at your own napkin, laughing a little at yourself. “Wilford, I promise, the advice I just gave you was nothing crazy.”

“Well, perhaps it’s just a little too rare that I get a pick-me-up.”

You hopped down from the counter. “Swing by whenever, I’ll hand them out for free. Though, if you’re always on the move, I guess you’re probably not in town for long, huh?”

He quickly followed your lead and stood, his chair nearly falling in his haste. “Uh— w-well I, I don’t know, I could always… linger for a day or two. Hard to say really.”

“Uh huh.” You smirked at him, raising your brows. “Well, if that constant partying you have going on brings you back here, feel free stop in, okay? … It’d be nice to have someone in here every once in a while. Well, someone friendly, anyway.”

“Right. Will do. Of course.”

You gave him two solid pats on the chest and turned to throw the napkins away behind the counter. When you turned to face him again, he was gone. Only slightly confused, you quickly recovered and yelled a quick, “bye~!” to the now empty store.

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goosedoes-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Quiet

Wilford Warfstache x nonverbal!Reader

Content warnings: Gender neutral reader, use of y/n, boss and employee relationship, what the fuck is a slow burn

Notes: this is another re-upload. errrmmmm wilford the silly

~~~~

"[Y/n]!"

A loud voice jolted you out of your imagination. It was a very slow day, the kind that you'd spend curled up in a blanket by the fireplace, but of course you had to spend it at work. Typical.

You turned expectantly to your jovial sounding co-worker. What you had assumed was correct, as usual. The boss himself, Mr. Warfstache.

To call Wilford a "friend" would be an odd choice of words. You preferred to think of your relationship as strictly professional, but Mr. Warfstache seemed to consider you as a close pal.

Wilford plopped himself unceremoniously next to your seat at the sound booth. A wide grin was present on his face, as usual.

"So! The day's almost over, yeah? You ready to head home?"

You shrugged slightly, hoping he would leave you alone. It's not that you disliked him exactly, but more that he didn't really understand your aversion to conversating. As usual, he paid no mind to your wordless response.

"Me and a few a' the guys are headed over to a fancy li'l resteraunt in the area. And y'know of course I had t' see if you wanted to come along!" The eccentric man grinned wider, maintaining eery eye contact with you.

Naturally, you didn't respond verbally. Honestly, you didn't respond at all. You gave Wilford a strange look, turning your head towards the soundboard and flicking off the power switch for the night.

Wilford leaned forward, trying to catch your eye again. "But, hey, if you don't want a crowd, we can just go by ourselves! The two of us!" he piped up hopefully, his odd voice taking on an even odder tone.

That... actually didn't sound too bad to you. You turned to face him once more, hesitating for a moment before giving him a small nod. His face immediately lit up.

Wilford jumped out of his chair, running a hand through his hair to adjust it. "Well! Let's go now, then!"

With a small sigh, you lifted yourself from the chair, stretching a bit before gathering your belongings and heading for the studio door. Wilford trailed close behind you, locking the door as you exited the building.

The walk was about how you expected it. Wilford chattered away, nearly talking your ear off, but thankfully stayed away from anything that required you to speak. The sun was starting to go down now, painting the sky with a lovely gradient from blue to pink. You took a moment to admire the beauty of the scenery.

It was a little while before you began to realize the two of you had been walking for quite some time. Wilford had piped down a bit, and was glancing around in confusion as he scanned the streets.

"...coulda sworn the damn thing was this way," he muttered, seemingly embarrassed. "Yeah there was... that big ol' sign? And further down was the restaurant, right?"

The odd man seemed quite nervous now. Bits of sunlight filtered through the buildings on the horizon, but the streets were dimly lit as the lamps littering the sidewalks had yet to turn on.

After a moment, Wilford sighed heavily, turning swiftly on his heels. "I don't want us to get lost. Let's just head back." He hung his head sadly. Something told you he had been looking forward to this for a while.

You reassuringly pat his shoulder, making Wilford jump slightly, as if he had forgotten you were there. He looked back at you, giving you a small smile. "Don't you worry, I know where the studio is from here."

The walk back was much quieter than before. Your boss was so uncharacteristically quiet that it startled you half to death when he protectively wrapped an arm around your waist. You didn't protest. The closeness was quite comforting.

Eventually, the two of you managed to return to the studio. It was dark out now, and Wilford dejectedly retracted his arm as he turned to look at you.

"I'm sorry this turned out so boring, [Y/n]," he commented sadly.

You patted his arm again, this time letting the touch linger a bit more than you realized. You swiftly brought your arm back to your side, gazing at the sidewalk with embarrassment.

When you looked back up, Wilford was a bit closer. You felt your face heat up immediately as he drew you into a strong hug. After a moment of shock, you put your arms around him and hugged back.

Wilford pulled away with a deep breath. "Ta be honest, I was really looking forward to spendin' time with you. I didn't mean to get all lost like that."

You blinked in confusion. Wilford was talkative, sure, but he never tried to "spend time" with you outside of work.

"Actually, I'm really sorry for a lot a' things. I know I talk a lot an', I mean, you don't." His words began speeding up as he started to ramble. "You always seem so... uncomfy when I talk to ya. Did it feel like I was pushin' the whole outin' on ya? Gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't think about that, of course it must've felt like that. I'm your boss and you're always so quiet. I wish you had told me, not that this is your fault, but I mean-"

You put a finger over Wilford's lips to stop his rambling, and he cut off quickly. He stared at you for a moment, and as you realized what you had done, you quickly pulled away. You gazed at him and shook your head to indicate his worries were incorrect.

You both stared at each other for a moment. You felt your face heat up in embarrassment once again.

Wilford gently placed a hand on your waist. "Is it okay if I kiss you?" he asked cautiously.

Your face was now evidently reddened. After a moment of processing his words, you nodded slowly.

Wilford brought his face closer to yours, eyes narrowing slightly as he slowly planted his lips on yours. For how rough his hands were, his lips were comfortably soft. The way he kissed you made it seem as if he'd been waiting to for quite some time.

Slowly, he pulled away, pressing his forehead to yours in a caring gesture.

The warmth of the embrace lasted some time before you stepped back, earning a sad whine from Wilford. You smiled slightly.

"It's dark out now. Can I walk you home?" he asked hopefully.

You nodded, grasping his hand firmly as you began leading the way.

The quiet of the night gave you some time to reflect. You realized how easy it was to communicate with Wilford, as you didn't have to say a single word. That was very comforting to you.

Maybe one day you'd even be confident enough to speak in front of him. You smiled at the thought.

Maybe the talkative man wasn't so bad after all.

#wilford warfstache #wilford #wilford markiplier #wilford warfstache markiplier #wilford x reader #wilford warfstache x reader #markiplier ego #markiplier egos #markiplier ego x reader #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier

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yuckie-obsessive · 2 years ago

Text

Double Trouble

Uh-oh… been thinking about a double possessive x reader 👀

So been thinking about if you got both of the boys in the same room and they only barely tolerate each other because you’re there. I’ll try to make it gn

Tw: brief talk of Anti’s “neck incident” and swearing

Darkiplier x Reader (gender neutral) x Antisepticeye

Set up: you are just chilling with Anti (just imagine a living room) and Dark arrives because he wants to talk with you about something and Anti gets real defensive and clingy.

~★~

“They aren’t your prisoner, you know. They can talk with whomever they wish,” Dark was already irritated with Anti’s shenanigans.

“Yeah, well you’re in my home, my fucking territory. You don’t have a fucking say here!” Anti was getting angry a lot faster than the other alter- as per usual. Dark sighed, “Does this really need to be an issue every time I wish to see them? They already stay with you, why do you insist on being selfish?”

“Cause I know what’s safe for them, and they don’t need to be around you or any other insane ego in your little group.”

The iplier egos were never all that harmful towards you, though. Only Dark and Wilford ever seemed to have interest, to which Dark would always ward off Wilford’s more… extreme tendencies.

Dark sneered in response, “You know what’s safe? The one who brought a knife to their own neck for entertainment-?”

“THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THEM!”

Things were growing heated fast. You decided to quietly step away to let them work it out (in their own special way).

“Dollface, hey,” arms wrapped around your torso, making you stop, “where are ya going? I was just messing around…” Anti mumbled as his face brushed up beside yours.

“Just a minor spat is all,” Dark stepped in front of you and took your hand, “takes more than a couple harsh words to send me away.” He placed a soft kiss to your knuckles.

Anti growled and his hold possessively tightened, “would certainly make my life a lot easier… I think they prefer me anyways,” he chuckled a bit and started a trail of kisses along your neck.

Dark’s expression twitched only slightly at this, but remained overall neutral. He brought his free hand to your face and maneuvered yours to rest on his shoulder. “They just need to see what I can offer…” his chest pressed up against yours, now pinning you between the two extremely dangerous beings, “I can entirely rewrite reality at your command.”

His lips connected with yours in a rather soft display of affection, catching you off guard with how gentle he was being. He separated for a breath, “say the word my dear, and I will give you the world.” He captured your lips once again.

Anti huffed. “Darlin’ you already have the world with me,” he whispered into your ear, making you shiver only for Dark to deepen the kiss to bring your attention back to him. “What could he possibly have that I don’t, hm?” Anti placed a small kiss behind your ear.

Dark separated to glare down at him. “Humility and grace certainly comes to mind.”

With that, they were at it again. Attempting to one-up each other for your attention.

You, at their mercy, had one hand clutching at Anti’s arms and the other clawing into Dark’s suit jacket, there was hardly anything you could do to stop them. Your mind, being as flustered as it was, probably wouldn’t let you do much of anything if you could.

#antisepticeye #ego #anti #jacksepticeye egos #darkiplier #dark #markiplier egos #darkiplier x reader x antisepticeye #darkiplier x reader #antisepticeye x reader #reader insert #kie writes #kie’s post #text #drabble #possessive

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littleoddwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Rules, Guidelines, etc.:

[Used to be: ronaldrx]

I'm a hobby writer and mostly write (x Reader) FanFictions and Headcanons. But I am also working on my original story whenever I can, so that I’ll hopefully publish it as an actual book someday. My Ao3.

Here’s a link to my Ko-Fi, in case you want to support me financially. It would mean a lot to me! (Obviously no obligation whatsoever! You never have to pay for anything on my blog, it’s merely an option for donations.)

Also, here are my sideblogs if you’re interested:

Dead Poets Society

Horror

Raúl Esparza

The Simpsons

Only ask for the characters I’ve got listed, please. I’ve written down all of the ones I actually write for, and the list is being updated regularly, as I often find new (actors, whose) characters I write for! (And yes, I always write for every character, so don’t ever worry if you wanna ask for one I haven’t written for in a long time, or ever, it’s fine!) Please always be patient with me. If I haven’t outright declined your request, it’s definitely in the works; even if it has been weeks or months since you’ve sent it in! And only send your requests via ASKs. No DMs or comments, please.

If you have a request, send an Ask to my inbox.

NO sexual NSFW requests, please (more details further down).

Requests = CLOSED (Max. Limit: 10)

Current number of requests: 10

Last updated: October 29, 2023

Masterlists are linked with fandoms/actors/characters below. I WRITE FOR:

ALFRED MOLINA characters:

Doctor Otto Octavius/Doctor Octopus

DAVID DASTMALCHIAN characters:

Abner Krill/Polka-Dot Man

Bob Taylor

Denham

James Lewis

Johnson

Kurt Goreshter

Lonny Crane

Murdoc

Philippe/Abra Kadabra

Simon Lynch

Thomas Schiff

ETHAN HAWKE characters:

Arthur Harrow

Ellison Oswalt

Goodnight Robicheaux

James Sandin

EWAN MCGREGOR characters:

Alex Law

Catcher Block

Christopher Robin

Curt Wild

Dan Torrance

John Bishop

Mark Renton

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Roman Sionis/Black Mask* (Birds of Prey - Masc!Reader only) [Any other version of Roman Sionis/Black Mask can be with a Gender Neutral/Female!Reader.]

HUGH DANCY characters:

Adam Raki

Cal Roberts

Luke Brandon

Executive ADA Nolan Price

Will Graham

KARL URBAN characters:

Billy Butcher

Black Hat

John Kennex

Dr. Leonard "Bones" McCoy

Markiplier EGOS:

Darkiplier

Illinois

Wilford Warfstache

Yancy

PAUL DANO characters:

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Edward Nashton/The Riddler

Eli Sunday

Jay (Okja)

Joby Taylor

Klitz

PEDRO PASCAL characters:

Agent Whiskey

Dave York

Dio Morrissey

Eddie

Ezra

Francisco “Catfish” Morales

Marcus Moreno

Marcus Pike

Max Phillips

Maxwell Lord

Oberyn Martell

Ricky Hauk

RAÚL ESPARZA characters:

Bobby

Dr. Frederick Chilton*

Jackson Neill

Jonas Nightingale

Rafael Barba

Characters from 9-1-1 (Lone Star):

Carlos Reyes*

Eddie Diaz

Evan “Buck” Buckley

Howard “Chimney” Han

Josh Russo*

Mateo Chavez

Paul Strickland

Bobby Nash

Tim Rosewater

TK Strand*

Characters from Law and Order(: Special Victims Unit):

Detective/ADA Dominick “Sonny” Carisi, Jr.

Sergeant Mike Dodds

Detective Nick Amaro

Executive ADA Nolan Price

ADA Peter Stone

ADA Rafael Barba

Deputy Chief William Dodds

Little Miss Sunshine:

Dwayne Hoover [Platonic only!]

Frank*

Our Flag Means Death:

Edward Teach/Blackbeard*

Frenchie

Izzy Hands

Stede Bonnet*

Prisoners (2013):

Alex Jones/Barry Milland [Platonic only!]

Bob Taylor

Detective David Loki

Renfield (2023):

Count Dracula

Robert Montague Renfield

Tedward “Teddy” Lobo

SLASHERS/Horror Film Characters:

Asa Emory/The Collector

Ash J. Williams [I will usually default to Ash from the TV show, unless requested otherwise!]

Billy Lenz (1974)

Billy Loomis

Bo Sinclair

Brahms Heelshire

Bubba Sawyer/Leatherface (TCM 1974 and TCM 2)

Charles Lee Ray/Chucky

Chop Top Sawyer

Corey Cunningham

Dewey Riley

Drayton Sawyer

Herbert West*

Jesse Cromeans/Chromeskull

Lawrence Gordon

Lester Sinclair

Luigi Largo

Mark Hoffman

Nubbins Sawyer

Pavi Largo

Stu Macher

Vincent Sinclair

William Easton

Star Wars:

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Qui-Gon Jinn

The Girl Next Door:

Klitz

Eli

Characters from The Simpsons:

Cecil Terwilliger*

Fat Tony

Frankie the Squealer

Grady*

Jack Lassen

Johnny Tightlips

Julio*

Legs

Louie

Moe Szyslak

Ned Flanders

Otto Mann

Seymour Skinner

Sideshow Bob

Sideshow Mel

Snake Jailbird

Timothy Lovejoy

Waylon Smithers*

What We Do in the Shadows:

Anton (Movie)

Deacon

Guillermo de la Cruz*

Laszlo Cravensworth

Nandor the Relentless

Viago

Vladislav

* Please note that an asterisk (*) means that these characters are Male/Masc/GenderNeutral!Reader only (including non-binary, of course). Platonic relationships with Female!Reader are possible, but no romantic ones.

If it’s a character that is open to all Readers, and you do not specify in your request what you want, I’ll usually opt for a Gender Neutral Reader by default.

SHIPS, such as:

BlackBonnet (OFMD)

SteddyHands (OFMD)

Black Pete x Lucius Spriggs (OFMD)

Buck x Josh Russo (9-1-1)

Dracfield (Renfield 2023)

Buddie (9-1-1)

Eli x Klitz (The Girl Next Door)

Nandermo (WWDITS)

Herbert West x Dan Cain (Re-Animator)

McKirk (Star Trek: AOS)

Oluwande x Jim Jimenez (OFMD)

Barisi (Law & Order SVU)

Renfield x Teddy Lobo (Renfield 2023)

Sickrent (Trainspotting/T2)

Stobotnik (Sonic Movie)

Tarlos (9-1-1: Lone Star)

AnderPerry (Dead Poets Society)

ZsaszMask (Birds of Prey)

Lastly, I would like to add things I will NOT write (about):

Sexual NSFW fics/headcanons (I used to write those as you can see in my Masterlists, but I have my reasons for not writing them anymore. Any hints at sexual topics are fine).

Anything related to death as the main subject (this includes deadly diseases, anything fatal, really, etc.).

Anything that romanticizes Mental Illness (my Vent Fics about my own disorders obviously do not romanticize any of it and I do not stand for that).

(Recreational) Drug Use

Extreme Possessive Behaviour and/or Jealousy

Yandere

If you have something you would like me to write for, but you do not see it listed anywhere, please ask me before requesting it, so we can talk about it. I hope you enjoy yourself on my blog and have a good time!

My Asks and DMs are always open for any questions or simply to talk!

- Jesse

#ronny.exe #jesse.talks #pinned post #about this blog #request rules #guidelines

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nach-ito · 1 month ago

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Masterlist + DNIs

Green: I will do.

Amber: Might do.

Red: Won't do.

I will do;

Batman

Markiplier Egos

FNaF mostly

Fandom of Choice

Character x Reader

Types of Book Tropes

Female Readers

Male Readers

Gender Neutral Readers

Fantasy AUs

YA Stories

Semi Spice stories

INTERACT;

Markiplier Fans

FNaF fans

Batman Fans

LGBTQ+ Folks

Readers

Fantasy Book enjoyers

Cats & Coffee lovers

Cars

Motorbikes

Motorsports

Markiplier Fans;

PewDiePie Fans;

I might do;

Smut

Fluff Scenes

Dark Romance

Character x OC Stories

Character x Self Insert Stories

Other types of Book Tropes (MUST be included for it to be decided in the request given)

Will NOT do

Pedophilia

Rape

Watersports

Incest

HEAVY pet play

Parent Kinks

DNI

Anti-LGBTQ+

Religious People

Proshippers

Homophobes

Racists

Transphobes

Political People

Fandoms

Five Nights at Freddie's;

(Movie)William Afton;

(Game)William Afton:

(Movie) Michael Afton;

(Game) Michael Afton;

(Movie) Vanessa;

(Game) Vanessa;

Batman; [some Telltale]

(Movie) Bruce Wayne;

(Game) Bruce Wayne;

(Movie) The Joker;

(Game[Telltale]) John Doe/The Joker;

(Game) Harvey Dent/Two Face;

(Game) Oswald Cobblepot/The Penguin;

(Game) Selina Kyle/Catwoman;

(Movie) Edward Nygma/The Riddler;

(Movie) Pamela Isley/Poison Ivy;

Markiplier Egos;

Murdock;

Wilford Warfstache;

Darkiplier;

Illinois Jones;

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bonesandquills · 2 years ago

Note

oh my gOSH that wilford fic made me so sad 😭😭 its so well written!! u did rly great! i can only hope for some sweet loving fluff for my aching heart 😭💕

This wasn’t exactly a request, but I can oblige anyway 💛

Sugar Cookies

Wilford Warfstache x Reader

(Gender neutral reader)

The kitchen was a disaster area. The counters were littered with bowls, mixing spoons, and measuring cups. Flour and sugar covered the floor and gritted underfoot.

Though the smell of baking cookies was strong enough that you could overlook that mess for a moment. You stared with some amusement at the pink-mustached man who stood in the midst of the disaster, while he stared back at you, hand on his hips, as if to remind you that part of this was your fault too.

You grinned sheepishly and looked around at the dishes that filled the sink and littered the counters. “Should we… start cleaning up?”

He didn’t say anything for a second, simply cocked one eyebrow upwards slightly with a slight smile. “I’d say so, gumdrop.”

You laughed and moved towards the sink, only to be halted midstep by his arm around your waist. He pulled you back against his torso, making you laugh.

“I thought we were cleaning up?”

He chuckled, the movement of his mustache tickling your skin. “In a moment.”

You shrugged and just let him hold you until, seemingly disappointed at your lack of a fight, he released you and you went over to the sink.

“I’ll wash, you dry.”

He nodded and retrieved one of the dishtowels while you started the sink and started on the first of a seemingly endless pile of dishes. Your progress was further slowed by Wilford getting distracted constantly by the cookies in the oven.

Finally, after the dishes failed to hold his attention for the fifth time, you dipped your hand in the soapy water of the sink and flicked it at him. He started, surprised, and playfully narrowed his eyes at you. “Is that how you wanna play, sweetheart? You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

You stuck out your tongue, and he straightened with an ominous look in his eyes. He set the dishcloth aside and advanced towards you.

Cornered by the kitchen counters, you started to dash to the side, out of his reach, but he was quicker, and stepped into your path.

With a squeak of surprise and protest, he swept you into his arms and grinned at you. “Not so fast, cupcake. Where d’ya think you’re goin’?”

You giggled and writhed in his arms, attempting to escape whatever fate he had in mind for you. His arms were strong and unmoving, however, and you managed to make no progress. He simply watched your futile efforts with some amusement in his dark brown eyes. When you’d finally settled, he leaned closer and, with little warning, started pressing kisses to every inch of your face.

You shrieked, both in elation and indignation at allowing yourself to be caught so easily. His progress was not put off by your protests, and the only thing you could do was endure until he had covered every inch of your face in his kisses.

Finally, satisfied, he leaned back with a broad grin. “Don’t look so pouty, honeybun… You know how I can’t resist sweet things.”

The compliment made you blush, and you buried your face in the pink material of his shirt, feeling his laugh rumble through his chest. He gently kissed the top of your head and smiled slightly. “No need to be embarrassed, gumdrop.”

Your only reply was a muffled groan, getting him to laugh again. His attention was shifted, however, by the timer going off on the stove. The cookies were done.

You let go of him and got a pair of oven mitts, opening the hot oven and pulling out the cookie sheet. Wilford watched excitedly beside you as you set them down to cool.

Though they were fresh out of the oven, Wilford reached for the cookies, too eager to wait. You lightly slapped his hand, giving him a warning look. He returned it with one of his own.

“Come now, darlin’, you’re gonna make me wait?” He looked at you with those soulful eyes, but you’d grown immune to that.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You’ll burn yourself.”

He pouted. “They can’t hurt me.”

“Nevertheless,” You said as you started moving the cookies to a cooking rack. “You’ll just have to wait until it’s time.”

He sulked for a second longer before the mischievous look returned to his gaze. He quickly grabbed your hand and spun you to face him, trapping you with his arms on the counter on either side of you.

He gave you only a moment to react before he locked his lips with yours, the kiss passionate and long. You had only just let your eyes flutter closed and started kissing him back when he drew away, one of the cookies triumphantly in his hand. The scoundrel.

He devoured it quickly, looking at you with a broad smile, and then going in for another kiss. You stopped him with a hand on his chest.

“Not this time.”

He looked disappointed, then the broad grin returned. His voice low and sultry, he leaned close to your ear. “Then why don’t we take this… upstairs.”

You blushed, but before you could say anything, he took your hand and pulled you up to the bedroom, leaving the cookies behind.

#fluff #x reader #wilford warfstache #cookies #slightly suggestive at the end #teasing #super fluffy

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orange-waterfalls · 4 years ago

Text

Cell Block Tango, Ft. One Wilford Warfstache

ty @executiveespressodepresso for the request

A/N: I KNOW, I know. It took a long time. A really long time. 2 weeks is actually not that long but I GET IT. I’m done though! I am finished, I have completed one(1) fic, and I can rest easy now. I’ve had a bit of trouble with these types of fics before, mainly I just didn’t know how to write them. But I figured it out! Maybe. Sorta. I dunno, I kinda like it... ANYWAYS uh song bumps the rating up to a T, but there’s not really much else. You perform a song for Wilford after a long day! That’s it. Also Talking about Feelings at the end because I was feeling Angsty and wanted some Plot. It’s a long one dhwukcgfeywf anyways enjoy!

Word Count: 3.0k

Performing the Cell Block Tango for Wilford

You plopped down onto the living room couch and sighed. What a day! What a great, awful, stressful day. You loved Wilford, absolutely, but the man could be a handful.

You weren’t sure how it was possible for someone to have so many bullets in one gun.

In any case, you had to stop him from KILLING PEOPLE for a while before getting to come home.

You didn’t have the emotional capacity to be mad at this point. You really needed to wind down.

First, you should make dinner. Last time Wilford stepped foot in the kitchen the whole house went up in flames. You grabbed your phone and called to order take out.

You rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling very tired. You shook your head, knowing if you fell asleep Wilford might kill the delivery person. You went to the bathroom.

You turned the sink faucet on and splashed your face a few times. You looked in the mirror at your soaking-wet face. God Wilford was so difficult to deal with. Well… he’d gotten better… but he still had a long way to go before you could even consider taking him anywhere. If he wouldn’t pull a gun on all the therapists you took him to maybe he’d have gotten a little better in the time that you knew him.

Now that Wilford was back on your mind, you thought of a way you could maybe relax.

You walked back to the living room and looked down at the phone that you’d thrown on the chair beside the couch. You looked up, not seeing Wilford anywhere. You took a deep breath, and decided you deserved a little performing. As a treat.

You pressed play on the song when you found it, and you stood up. You stood with your back to the music, facing the wall.

"Pop. Six. Squish. Uh-uh. Cicero. Lipschitz," you said quietly. "And now, the six merry murderesses of the Crook County Jail, and their rendition of the Cell Block Tango…"

You began moving your arms in rhythm to the song. A smile twitched at your lips. This might’ve seemed a bit silly to anyone else, but luckily, you were alone. Right?

Yes, Wilford went to go see Dark. You were absolutely, 100% alone.

In fact, you were so sure that you were alone that you didn’t hear Wilford walk into the room. He saw you… dancing? Were you dancing? He didn’t think you danced. You didn’t seem like the type to dance. He tilted his head to the side a little, about to ask what was happening, before hearing the music play from the phone and closing his mouth. He decided to stay quiet and just… watch.

The music began speeding up and you started to get really into it, moving around a lot. As the chorus got close, you turned around, only to find Wilford staring at you. He was standing in front of the couch, near your phone. You stared back at him, the heat of embarrassment rising in your cheeks. You prepared to shamefully walk away, to avoid him by taking a shower or saying you had to run to the store, to make sure he said nothing about this to you or anyone else.

But, Wilford seemed to have other things in mind.

Seeing you watch him like a deer in headlights, he thought there was something he should do in this situation, something to make you more comfortable.

With that in mind, he plopped down onto the couch, respectfully folding his hands in his lap, and looked at you expectantly.

Was that the right decision? Too late to take it back now. Hopefully it was.

You blinked for a moment before you got the memo and started moving again. You felt your skin burn in the still-present embarrassment as you continued your… well, it wasn’t quite dancing. Something along those lines, maybe. You expected Wilford to talk, laugh, comment, make any noise at all. But he just sat, watching you. You looked at him, nervous. He smiled brightly at you and you remembered that this was Wilford, dammit! The man loved you and would never wish any harm on you, physically or emotionally. And that’s when you decided to put a little trust in your boyfriend, and started to sing right as the chorus started up.

“He had it comin', he had it comin', he only had himself to blame… If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same! Pop! Six! Squish! Uh-uh! Cicero! Lipschitz! Pop! Six! Squish! Uh-uh! Cicero! Lipschitz!”

Wilford nearly got whiplash when you started to sing. Since when? Could you do this? You had never? You were also quite good, so… why didn’t he know?

You started getting more exaggerated and “angry” with your movements, which made Wilford smile. You looked like you were having fun(which you were) and he was happy about that. He also appreciated the few lyrics he processed over the look of joy on your face taking full control of his mind. He could relate to it, at least a little. He wondered if that’s why you liked the song…

He then realized that it probably wasn’t, but he liked the thought nonetheless.

“You know how people have these little habits that get you down? Like Bernie. Bernie liked to chew gum. No, not chew: pop! So I came home this one day, and I am really irritated and I'm looking for a little bit of sympathy. And there's Bernie, laying on the couch drinking a beer and chewing. No, not chewing: popping!” You were waving your arms around while telling the story, and got this angry look on your face at certain points. While making the face, you pointed at Wilford accusingly. He frowned at first, before remembering you were acting. And, damn, you were good at it! "So, I said to him, I said, "You pop that gum one more time..." And he did. So I took the shotgun off the wall and I fired two warning shots... into his head.” You made a fake gun with your hands and fake-shot at Wilford. He leaned back on the couch, put on a surprised look, and laid a hand over his chest, playing along. You smiled at him joyfully before going back to singing.

He bit his lip to not laugh, as you might’ve taken it the wrong way. He was just very… happy. And entertained with what was happening.

“I met Ezekiel Young, from Salt Lake City, about two years ago, and he told me he was single, and we hit it off right away. So, we started living together. He'd go to work, he'd come home, I'd fix him a drink, we'd have dinner. And then I found out. "Single," he told me? Single, my ass. Not only was he married, oh, no, he had six wives. One of those mormons, you know? So that night, when he came home from work, I fixed him his drink, as usual.” Wilford got a bit distracted at this point, just by you. Everything you were doing. The dancing, the acting, the singing, the smiles… you looked so happy. He wondered why you didn’t look like this more often. He wondered how he could get you to look like this more often.

He’d heard someone talk about karaoke at the store one day.

Could he do that? Could he buy a karaoke machine? Would you want a karaoke machine?

“You know... some guys just can't hold their arsenic.” He was snapped back to reality,(ope, there goes gravity) when you ruffled his hair harshly at the last line. He looked up at you again and found you were still smiling. He automatically smiled back.

“Now, I'm standing in the kitchen, carving up the chicken for dinner, minding my own business. In storms my husband, Wilford, in jealous rage.” You accidentally said “Wilford” instead of “Wilbur”. Who could blame you, honestly. To save it, you started acting like you were talking directly to Wilford instead of just a make-believe audience. Wilford, on the other hand, panicked a little when you said his name. It wasn’t the same name as the song said, so… what? He then came to the conclusion that you just wanted to get him to pay more attention.

"You been screwing the milkman," he says. He was crazy and he kept on screaming "You been screwing the milkman." And then he ran into my knife. He ran into my knife ten times.” You leaned towards him, got up in his face, and grabbed and shook his shoulders. Wilford just kind of… sat there and took it, since he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He nodded a few times as well, seemingly a bit intimidated by you. It took much of your willpower to not break and start laughing at him.

His cheeks dusted a light pink because of how close you were getting to his face. He nearly leaned forward and kissed you, but caught himself. You were performing and he had no right to interrupt.

Still, your lips looked awfully kissable…

“If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same!”

You had to mentally prepare yourself for the Hungarian part. You took a breath to lower your heart rate and told yourself that even if you messed it up, it was fine. It was just Wilford.

“Mit keresek én itt? Azt mondják, a híres lakóm lefogta a férjem, én meg lecsaptam a fejét. De nem igaz. Én ártatlan vagyok. Nem tudom, miért mondja Uncle Sam, hogy én voltam. Próbáltam a rendõrségen megmagyarázni, de nem értették meg.” You had to suck in a breath and miss a few lines to get your brain back on track. “Uh-uh! Not guilty!”

Wilford was thrown completely off guard at the Hungarian and he stared at the phone. Where the hell did that come from? More confusingly, when he looked back at you, you seemed to be keeping up with the words, for the most part. Did you know Hungarian? Did you just know this part? You slipped up a few times but, hot damn, it was impressive.

You had this sad, innocent look on your face the whole time. One that made him wanna get up and hug you. But he didn’t because he knew that you were fine and you were acting and he was gonna let you finish this wonderful performance of yours even if it fucking killed him, goddammit!

Okay, he was being a little dramatic. Even so.

“My sister Veronica and I had this double act, and my husband Charlie traveled around with us. Now, for the last number in our act we did these twenty acrobatic tricks in a row. One, two, three, four, five, splits, spread eagles, back flips, flip flops, one right after the other. So this one night before the show, we're down at the hotel Cicero, the three of us boozing, having a few laughs. And we ran out of ice so I went out to get some. I come back, open the door, and there's Veronica and Charlie, doing number seventeen: the spread eagle! Well, I was in such a state of shock I completely blacked out, I can't remember a thing. It wasn't until later, when I was washing the blood off my hands, I even knew they were dead.” You decided you kick your leg up a little both times you mentioned spread eagles. Wilford shook his head, a little dumbfounded. He understood the implications in the song, and his face flushed darker. He wondered if you did too, because it just seemed like you did it for fun. In any case, he coughed into his hand quietly, as to not make you worry.

You look at Wilford, a bit confused, but he just gave you a thumbs up for you to continue. You smiled and kept doing what you were doing, not noticing how flushed he was.

“They had it coming, they had it coming, they had it coming all along! I didn't do it, but if I'd done it, how could you tell me that I was wrong?”

Wilford watched in utter fascination at how you were moving. If he didn’t know better, he’d say you choreographed this.

Well… he didn’t know what you did when he wasn’t home.

But you moved fairly fluidly through dances and you seemed to be on-tempo, even if the dances seemed random.

Random does not mean unplanned, he reminded himself.

He was also a little distracted from your dancing by the song, because it was making him feel emotions he wasn’t sure existed. He was determined to memorize your every move, however, so that would just have to wait until another day.

“I loved Al Lipschitz more than I can possibly say. He was a real artistic guy, sensitive, a painter. But he was always trying to find himself. He'd go out every night looking for himself, and on the way he found Ruth, Gladys, Rosemary and Irving. I guess you can say we broke up because of artistic differences. He saw himself as alive... and I saw him dead…” You stood pretty still for this part, since the song was almost over and you were feeling pretty tired. 7 minutes didn’t seem like a long time, but it’s different when you’re working out.

You did pace a little bit, while keeping your arm movement to a minimum. You felt your heart beating due to the exercise and also the anxiety of your boyfriend watching you.

You did make a last-second decision to boop his nose when you got to the last word. This made Wilford blink harshly and look up at you with a pout. Before you went back to your original spot in the room, you gave him a little kiss on the nose. That made him grin from ear to ear and dig his fingers into his legs. You bit back a chuckle and started up again.

“They had it coming, they had it coming, they had it coming all along! 'Cause if they used us, and they abused us, how could you tell us that we were wrong? He had it coming, he had it coming, he only had himself to blame! If you'd have been there, if you'd have seen it, I betcha you would have done the same!” You kept dancing the same as you did before, even though your legs were starting to burn, and you were having trouble keeping the same fluid movements. Some of them became a little more jerky and forced than you wanted them to.

Wilford noticed this and brought his arms up a bit, leaning forward in case you needed help. He figured you wouldn’t, but he didn’t want you cracking your skull open or anything.

He’d be very upset if you did that…

“You pop that gum one more time! Single my ass. Ten times! Miert csukott Uncle Sam bortonbe! Number seventeen: the spread eagle. Artistic differences…” You did all your previous movements for each woman’s line. Which included: The shotgun, throwing both hands above your head, getting in Wilford’s face, wiping a fake tear, kicking your leg, and shrugging, in that order. You were very out of breath and a bit disoriented, but that was okay because there was only a little bit left!

“Pop. Six. Squish. Uh-uh. Cicero. Lipschitz…” You ended the song by walking directly in front of Wilford and falling to your knees in front of him once you were sure the song had ended. You breathed heavily, feeling the tiredness from the day and the dancing catching up to you. You were about to ask Wilford “So, how bad was it?” before he slid to the floor and wrapped his arms around you. You froze, not knowing what was happening.

“You were fantastic,” He whispered. Which you thought was very strange because Wilford couldn’t speak lower than a yell, in your experience. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Wil, what’s happening?” You asked, still out of breath. He squeezed you a little tighter.

“I just… wanted to show love to my partner?” He said hesitantly. You scoffed and hugged him back.

“Do you feel guilty because you embarrassed me?”

“Yes…”

“Wil, you’re fine, I promise.” You chuckled. He sighed and sat back. You looked at him and frowned.

“I…” He ran a hand through his hair and avoided looking at your face. “I… know I’m not the easiest to deal with and… I… I wanna… make you feel comfortable…”

“You do make me feel comfortable!” You took his hands in yours.

“But every time I’ve looked at you today you were always scared or angry!” He argued. You closed your mouth, not really having any argument.

“Mm…” You hummed.

“I… wanna… get better. I wanna be better. For you.” He grumbled. You smiled and twisted yourself around so you were sitting between his legs with your head resting on his chest. He laid his chin on top of your head.

“I think you’re perfectly fine.” You sighed.

“I don’t wanna be perfectly fine, I wanna be perfect!” He whined.

“Well, that’s an impossible goal.”

“Then… I wanna be perfect… for you.”

“That’s a better one.” You looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back, feeling a warmth spreading through his chest. You were listening. You understood.

And you loved him.

“Am I a good boyfriend?” He asked.

“Of course you are.” You snuggled into his chest.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked softly as he could. You squinted at him as he gave you his very best puppy eyes. You gave in, and gave him a peck. You could feel his arms waving around as he tried to decide what to do with them. Eventually, he placed them on the sides of your neck. You pulled back after a little and he stared at you adoringly.

“Don’t you look at me like that…” You warned.

“I love you…” He sighed and wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. You squirmed, trying to get out, but he didn’t move.

“Wilford…” You whined. “Lemme go! I ordered food!”

“Ok, I’ll let you go when the food shows up!” You huffed and let your body go limp as you succumbed to the hug.

You should’ve just cooked something.

#markiplier egos x reader #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #x gender neutral reader #wilford x y/n #wilford warfstache x reader #wilford warfstache x you #wilford x reader #wilford x gender neutral reader #x y/n #x you #x reader fanfiction

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jacksepticeye-simp · 2 months ago

Note

Since you say requests are open and you want some 🤭

I haven’t seen a Wilford one from you in your masterlist, so! (If you were comfortable with it!) something where Wilford confesses to a gn reader. Where Wilford asked them out, but the reader thinks it’s a friendly outing but when Wilford asks them to date him, they fully realize the situation and get flustered!

Keep putting out stories, you’ve got this and I’m proud of you Andrew! ☺️

Confession (Wilford Warfstache x GN! Reader)

OOOO I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE FOR WILFORD!! ALSO TYSM FOR YOUR KIND WORDS LJ THEY MEANS LOTS TO ME!! <333

The clock on the wall of your office was ticking away as you typed on the computer. You still had a long way to go before your shift ended, But it wasn't like you had much outside of work in the first place considering you lived by yourself. You started typing again, but you were interrupted by a hand being put on your shoulder, which startled you and caused you to fall off your chair. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry my dear. Are you alright?" a familiar voice asked, reaching a hand out towards you. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you met Wilfords gaze. He smiled charmingly as he helped you up. "I'm fine, thank you, Wil." You said, quickly looking to the ground. "Good! I can't have my future lover- I mean.. very good friend being injured!" He stated, brushing some floor dirt of your shoulders. "Did you need anything?" You asked him, sitting back down on your chair. "Oh yes! Would you meet me in my office in about..30 minutes? I have something of utmost importance to discuss with you." He responded, straightening his bowtie. Before you could agree, he was gone and there was a sucker on your desk of your favourite flavour. You pondered on why Wilford might want to meet you in his office, He was very unpredictable so really it could be anything from a trap to kill you or wanting your help with something.

30 minutes had passed and you walked into Wilfords office, taking in the scenery. It was like walking into a parallel dimension where everything was vomited on by pastels and a rainbow. The only thing that really stuck out in the room was the blob of void which was Wilfords cat. The cat perked up and ran over to you, rubbing herself up against your legs happily. You felt oddly compelled to pet this cat, so you did. The cat purred and meowed in response, continuing to rub her fur all over your clothes. "Thank you, I appreciate the gesture." You told the cat, your tone dripping with sarcasm. Wilford appeared and picked up the cat, smiling at your presence. "Oh you came! I'm very glad." He spoke eagerly as he set the cat atop the cat tree in the room. "Now, we have much to discuss. Have a seat!" He said, ushering you towards the empty chair on the opposite side of his desk. "So, why did you want me here?" You asked, a hint of fear in your tone. "I wanted to know if you'd perhaps be interested in dinner with me tonight? My treat of course." He said, smiling like the gentleman he was. "Oh sure! I'd love to. I always enjoy it when my friends ask to hang out!" You said, smiling. Wilfords smile faltered for a moment. "..Right, yes..̷f̷̷r̷̷i̷̷e̷̷n̷̷d̷̷s̷...." You could've sworn his eye twitched. "Well then my dear, you should be finishing up your work. I wouldn't want to keep you from it." He said, waving his hand at you dismissively. You exited the office, closing the door behind you.

Wil turned around in his chair as he twirled his mustache. "I must wow them with something grand. Something that'll surely sweep them off their feet." He thought long and hard, but his legs started cramping. He went to get up but he felt a fluffy mass in his lap. He looked down and found his cat sitting there. "Hm. Well, that's a problem." He stated while petting the cat.

A few hours later, you entered the restaurant and gaped at how marvelous it was. You felt incredibly out of place as a hostess guided you to where Wilford sat. He looked absolutely gorgeous, wearing a wonderful crisp suit and pink tie, he held something behind his back but you couldn't make out what it was exactly. He smiled brightly as he saw you. "You made it! Have a seat!" You did as told, sitting in front of him. "I've been meaning to tell you something, very very important..But it may damage our friendship.." He hesitated for a moment. "Whatever you tell me, I'm sure it won't damage anything about our friendship. You're my best friend Wiford and you always will be, no matter what." Wilford sighed. "I am going to cut straight to the point. I am madly in love with you and I'd very much like it if you'd become my lover." He quickly said, placing a bouquet pink roses between the 2 of you. Your cheeks flushed a shade of red you never thought existed. "Y-You like me? W-Wil..I..I feel the same.." You sputtered out, your face only getting hotter. Oh god, you felt like you were about to pass out from excitement. Wilford smiled. "I love you, so very much sugarplum."

"I love you too, Wil.."

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yeet-me-dad-dy · 5 years ago

Text

Mother Fluffer

@nekosounds asked: Fic where reader has a lot of really cute stuffed animals they like to cuddle with at night. But then they start dating Wilford and thinks that he’ll think less of them if he finds out about her stuffed animals. So they tried to hide them, but Wilford finds out one day and fluff insues? Sorry if it’s too specific.

Summary: Wil finds out about your stuffed animals when you fail to hide them all before he gets to your home.

Characters: Wilford x Reader

Words: 818

Note: I know this isn’t super fluffy, and I’m sorry about that. For some reason, my brain didn’t want to make words happen for this one. I hope you still like it.

You were jittering with excitement as you tucked your cellphone into your pocket, a huge grin plastered on your face. You had just gotten off the phone with Wilford, who suggested something different for date night. Tonight, instead of going out, he wanted to come over to your place to cuddle and watch movies. You were so excited! He’d never been to your home before, but tonight Wilford was coming over!

Your face fell.

Oh shit, Wilford was coming over.

You had to hide your stuffed animals!

You darted to your room, slipped on the hardwood floor as you went, and hit your shoulder on the doorframe. You clutched your arm and swore to yourself as you stopped before your bed, overwhelmed at the sight of, quite frankly, far too many stuffed animals. You were an adult, you shouldn’t even have stuffed animals… or at least, that’s what Wilford would think… Right?

You bit your lip, uncertain. Where the hell were you supposed to hide all of these!? The closet wouldn’t fit all of them, but it would have to fit at least a few. Their fur was soft against your arms as you gathered up as many as you could and deposited them on your closet floor. You did this a few times until you had to fight against the mass of fur and stuffing to get the door closed.

“Sorry, guys,” you huffed, breathing hard from the exertion

You had to resort to shoving what remained under your bed. You were lying flat on your stomach, halfway under your bed, when a familiar voice asked, “What are you doing?”

You jumped and hit your head.

“Ow, fuck!” you swore as you wiggled out and rose to your knees, sitting back on your heels to look up at your favorite ego standing over you with his thumbs hooked in his suspenders.

The light of the full moon streamed in through your window and illuminated one side of his face in a pale blue light while the lamp on your dresser bathed the other side of his face in a soft yellow glow. He looked heavenly. It also could have been because you just concussed yourself.

“I was, uh…” you rubbed the sore spot on the back of your head, trying to think of a way to explain. There were still stuffed animals on your bed; you hadn’t gotten them all.

“I wasn’t expecting to get you on your knees so quickly,” Wil interrupted your thoughts, catching you off guard.

You chuckled. He sure knew how to make you flustered.

“No, I was just…” Did you tell the truth? He could very clearly see the plushies you hadn’t managed to hide, so was there even any point in lying?

“How did you get in here?” you asked suddenly, using the edge of your bed to help pull you to your feet.

He looked behind him, down the hall toward your front door, and then around your room. He seemed confused, but that expression quickly faded and he shrugged.

“I’m not entirely sure. I did knock, but you didn’t answer.”

“Yeah, I was uh… I was…” You rubbed the back of your neck nervously and then sighed as you picked up a stuffed llama. You tossed it to him and he caught it, squeezing it gently as he studied it. “I was trying to hide all of my stuffed animals,” you admitted with a dry laugh.

He hugged the llama, brows furrowed.

“Why?” he asked with a tilt of the head.

You took in a deep breath. You might as well tell him the truth.

“I wasn’t sure how you would react. I mean… I thought you would… I don’t know, judge me? Adults aren’t supposed to have stuffed animals, and I have…” You chuckled again. “I have a lot.”

You couldn’t meet his gaze, but saw him take a step toward you. “Who told you adults can’t have stuffed animals?” he asked sternly, squeezing your llama a bit tighter.

“Um… society, usually.”

He scoffed and placed your stuffed animal back on the bed, then crossed his arms and shook his head.

“And when does society ever have anything constructive to say?”

You shrugged, embarrassed. Of course Wil wouldn’t care if you had stuffed animals. He probably had some of his own. You were kicking yourself; you should have known he wouldn’t mind!

“Sorry,” you muttered. “It’s stupid, I should have known you wouldn’t care…”

“No, no, you’re not stupid.” He took one of your hands in his and used a finger to lift your chin so that you were looking at him. “I understand your fears, sugarplumb.”

You smiled at the nickname he had given you.

“But don’t worry,” he continued. “I would never judge you or think less of you, especially not for something like having stuffed animals.” He leaned forward and kissed you on the forehead.

“Now!” he said excitedly as he let you go and picked the llama up once more. He held it up so that its head was tucked under his chin. He grinned. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

#wilford warfstache x reader #wilford warfstache #wilford warfstache fanfiction #markiplier egos #markiplier egos fanfiction #markiplier fanfiction #wilford warfstache x gender neutral reader #wilford x reader #wilford x gender neutral reader

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leighsartworks216 · 1 year ago

Text

Markiplier Egos Masterlist

I have too many links on my main masterlist lol

Main Masterlist

AO3

Request Rules

Tag List Form

The Host

Please Stay - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, lots of blood, wound descriptions, implied self-h*rm, awkwardness, just sorta the beginning stages of a crush so it's really cute

Help - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, depression, intrusive thoughts

Friendship - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Cuddles - The Host x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: swearing, anxiety, awkwardness

“Did you sleep well?” Headcanons - The Host x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Wilford Warfstache

Blanket Thief - Wilford x gn!reader

Warnings: none, just pure fluff

Scary Movie Night - Wilford x gn!reader

Warnings: broken glass, panic attack, swearing, hurt/comfort but mostly fluff

Wilf Welcoming You Back Home Headcanons - Wilford x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of food and drink

Yancy

Pet - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, reader is angy, bad accents

Parole - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: cat

My Handsome Guy - trans!Yancy x transmasc!reader

Warnings: dysphoria (not explicit), Yancy calls you “doll” in a gender neutral way, period stuff

Breakfast - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing, slight paranoia (?), slight abandonment issues

Star-gazing - Yancy x gn!reader x Illinois

Warnings: none

Solitary - Yancy x gn!reader

Warnings: panic attack, claustrophobia, swearing, hurt/comfort

Hyperfixations - Yancy x autistic!gn!reader x Illinois

Warnings: slight swearing???, fluff

Darkiplier

Just a Little Dark Drabble - Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A Thousand Awful Days - Dark x transmasc!reader

Warnings: dysphoria, swearing, fluff

Overwhelmed - Part 2 - Dark x (implied) autistic!gn!reader

Warnings: overstimulation/sensory overload, being nonverbal, zoning out, swearing, can be read as platonic

Damien and Dark ramble - Damien x gn!reader, Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Grief - Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: grieving, depression, loss of a pet

Period Pains - Dark x AFAB!reader

Warnings: talk of period stuff that may cause dysphoria

Trauma (Songfic) - Dark x DA!reader, Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: angst

Birthday Wishes - Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: mentions of purgatory, fire/matches and a knife

Dark Drabble - Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: none

Just A Child - Dark & teenage!gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Actor is a creep (implied), hurt/comfort themes

Panic Attack Comfort Headcanons - Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: panic attack (obvi), mostly fluff

Pretty Boy - King!Dark x masc!reader

Warnings: things get a little spicy 😳

Gone, I’m Gone (Songfic) - Dark/Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: explicit descriptions of blood, broken bones, starvation and dehydration, swearing, manipulation, extreme angst

Papers (Songfic) - Dark/Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: Actor is an asshole, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of some events from WKM

Illinois

Of Cowboys, Cave Ins, and Crushes - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: being trapped in a small area, death, minor injuries that are not explicitly described

Partner - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Free of Charge - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: illness, swearing, hurt/comfort

Reckless - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: death, blood, injury, swearing, ANGST

Family Reunion - Illinois, no reader

Warnings: none

Stay Safe - Illinois x gn!reader

Warnings: swearing

Star-gazing - Illinois x gn!reader x Yancy

Warnings: none

Careful Not To Fall In Love - Illinois & Indiana Jones

Warnings: none

Hyperfixations - Illinois x autistic!gn!reader x Yancy

Warnings, slight swearing??, fluff

Damien

Midnight, The Stars and You (Songfic Kinda) - Damien x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Damien and Dark ramble - Damien x gn!reader, Dark x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Trauma (Songfic) - Dark x DA!reader, Damien x DA!reader

Warnings: angst

Gone, I’m Gone (Songfic) - Damien/Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: explicit descriptions of blood, broken bones, starvation and dehydration, swearing, manipulation, extreme angst

Sodomy - Damien x male!DA!reader

Warnings: internalized homophobia, religious trauma, hinted emotionally abusive parents, sodomy laws

Papers (Songfic) - Damien/Dark x DA!reader

Warnings: Actor is an asshole, angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of some events from WKM

Googleplier

Hug - Google x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Reader Who Can’t Spell Headcanons - Google x gn!reader

Warnings: none

First Kiss Headcanons - Google x gn!reader

Warnings: none

ISWM

You’re Not The Captain AU

One - Two - Three - Four - Five - Six - Seven - Eight - Ficlet

You’re Another Engineer AU

One

Captain’s Log - Ficlet - Addition

Dogs in Space Headcanons - ISWM Crew + Captain!reader (Slight Captaineer)

Engineer Mark

Kiss It Better - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: minor injury, but mostly just fluff

Captain, My Captain - Engineer Mark x AFAB!reader

Warnings: period fic, cramps, swearing

In My Solitude (Songfic) - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: loneliness, depression, possible su*c*dal thought (written in red text just in case), death, heavy angst, maybe a little fluffy at the end but like a sad fluffy

I Missed You - Engineer Mark x transmasc!reader

Warnings: being (unintentionally) misgendered

#1 Captain - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

Your Captain - Engineer Mark x gn!reader

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, loss of identity, overworking

#fanfic #fanfiction #markiplier #markiplier egos #markiplier egos x reader #mayor damien x reader #damien x reader #wilford warfstache x reader #wilford x reader #darkiplier x reader #host x reader #illinois x reader #yancy x reader #engineer mark x reader #googleplier x reader

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