Dive Deep into Creativity: Discover, Share, Inspire
(Y/n) sat on a bench and checked her phone for the upteenth time, hoping to find some message from her boyfriend explaining why he hadn't arrived for their date. Her lock screen, showing the two of them smiling on the cart of a Ferris wheel, remained bare, not showing any new messages. Such a waste of a happy memory.
Tears began to obstruct (Y/n)'s vision. How many times had this happened before? How many times did she sit at a table or wait outside of a building for a man who would fail to show up?
(Y/n) knew he was toxic and that she should just dump him and save what was left of her heart, but she couldn't bring herself to pull through with the impending break up. He was one of the only people who would actually put up with her weirdness. She should've just walked away.
The (Y/n) and her boyfriend had been dating since highschool, so all together they've been in a relationship for about 7 years. She expected him to propose any day now, but instead of a ring she didn't even get a phone call or a text. He had been pulling away since their freshman year of college. (Y/n) blamed it on exams and their jobs, but now she realized he just didn't care.
As she came to this conclusion she began to cry. (Y/n) pulled up her messaging app and texted him.
(Y/n): I hate you
To her suprise, he texted back a few seconds later.
(Bf/n): What do you mean?
(Y/n): This is the sixth time in a row you've stood me up on a date. I hate you and I'm breaking up with you
(Bf/n): Come on baby, don't be like that
(Bf/n): We can work this out
She blocked his number before she could give a second thought.
"Are you okay, miss. You seem rather upset." A slightly slurred voice behind her asked. (Y/n) turned around and was surprised to see a tall black haired man with a pink mustache looking at her expectantly.
"M-me?"
"Yes you." He said, booping her on the nose. "What's a cute bean like you doing with a frown and tears on your face? And the way you’re dressed up, are you here for a date?" (Y/n) blushed and looked down. "My boyfriend stood me up. He was supposed to meet me here two hours ago and won’t reply to any of my texts or calls. It's not the first time he’s done this either so I broke up with him. I guess I'm just a bit upset."
The strange man sat down beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Well that's understandable, but don't waste tears on a jerk like him. If he didn't care about you, then you don't have to care about him. He just isn't worth it and you deserve better."
Some more tears spilled down (Y/n)'s cheeks and dropped onto the back of her hands. “That’s easy for you to say. He and I were in a relationship for over five years so I can’t just automatically get over him. It’s just not that simple.”
“I understand that. Love is a difficult thing. It makes you blind and at times clouds your judgment.” Explained the man as he turned (Y/n)’s face to look at him. “But when love is lost it doesn’t mean you can’t find it again.”
“But who would love me? I’m weird. It’s a miracle I ever got into a relationship in the first place.” My consoler smirked. “You’re weird? Just look at me. I’m a grown man with a pink mustache and an accent even I can’t recognize, and I’m from America! I don’t think you can get much weirder than that.” (Y/n) laughed softly, though it was almost coughed out because she was nearly choking on her tears.
“Who told you that you couldn’t be loved because you were weird?” He asked suddenly, making (Y/n) go silent again. The man frowned, not asking again but seeming to understand the unsaid answer. “What if I were able to prove that wrong?” She looked toward him again in confusion. “What?
“I won’t force you to do anything you aren’t comfortable with. It’s just a suggestion and I know this sounds crazy, but since you’re already dolled up, why don’t we have a little fun? Y’know.. two weirdos making town?” (Y/n) smirked, wiping the last of her tears away. “Sounds fun, but I don’t even know you. How do I know you aren’t just gonna end up kidnapping and killing me or something like that?”
The man stuck out his hand with a wink. “The name’s Wilford Warfstache and I’ll do my best to not kidnap, kill, or something-like-that you while we’re out together.” (Y/n) laughed, a real laugh this time. “Alright then, Wilford. I’ll trust you just this once. Don’t screw this up for me okay? The name’s (Y/n) (L/n) by the way.”
“I’ll probably screw it up in some way without even trying, just you watch, (Y/n).”
(Y/n) knew it was a little crazy and probably incredibly stupid to trust this man whom she just met, but she needed a bit of sunshine today, and he seemed to be chock full of it. Wilford took her hand in his and led her through town to a quaint little diner. It had a kind of 70’s vibe to it but it was delightful and her new date looked like he felt right at home.
“How do you seem to fit this environment so well?” She asked, looking at him curiously from across the table. “Well, I suppose everyone fits a certain day and age. Mine just happens to be as crazy as me. But what about you? Where do you think you fit in?” (Y/n) thought about it for a minute before deciding. “I think I fit in with the [year of choice (1970-2022)] people. I just feel more comfortable in those clothes and styles.”
When (Y/n) was thinking about the question, Wilford gazed at her. He had to admit, she was incredibly cute. It was nice to have someone else like him in the world. Even if she wasn’t exactly the same, it brought him comfort knowing that he wasn’t entirely alone. After Celine died disappeared, he had felt so empty and alone. He loved her with everything he was and she had fallen through his fingers like sand. But now he had a second chance.
Someone who would give him a chance.
Maybe it would take some time, and the two of them would likely only start off as friends, but Wilford knew (Y/n) was the woman who could finally fill the hole Celine had left behind. He could feel it in his mustache.
As they waited for their food to arrive and even after it did, the two made small talk and learned more about each other. Wilford apparently was a television host and lived in a big house with his many brothers. How many brothers? Well, he didn’t answer that. (Y/n) told him about her own life. How she was a(n) [(older/younger/middle) sister of (number) / only child) and how she had a stable job as a (job description). Wilford listened eagerly, seeming to hang off of every word in anticipation.
(Y/n) was happy that he would even listen. That was more than she ever got from her now ex-boyfriend. And it turned out that she and Wilford had a lot in common. It was nice knowing that there was someone else like her out there. Wilford was right. Just because she lost one relationship, it didn’t mean she couldn’t have another.
When they left the restaurant, the time was only half past one. They had the whole rest of the afternoon to goof off. As more time passed, (Y/n) almost forgot about her ex and was focused on having fun with her new friend. Wilford knew how to cheer her up and he was awfully good at it.
Over time however, she began to notice how sad he looked. Yes, he smiled, but it wasn’t completely genuine. (Y/n) decided to try cheering him up. She took him to a carnival that was in town, something she had planned to do on her date in the first place. She wanted to make sure he was okay so she led him to one of the first rides that caught her eye, and somewhere they could speak in private. (Y/n) led him to the Ferris wheel and they sat opposite of each other in the car.
“What’s wrong?” She asked, looking at him in concern. “What?” He seemed confused. “Something’s bothering you. I can tell. What’s up?” Wilford looked down, his fluffy black hair falling slightly in front of his face, obscuring it from view. “I didn’t realize you were the observing type. Sorry if my attitude is bothering you?” (Y/n) shook her head. “Not at all. You helped me when I was upset. Why shouldn’t I help you?” He smiled a little, seeming to appreciate that. “Thank you, but I don’t want to annoy you with my problems.”
(Y/n) leaned over and took his hand in hers. “You won’t annoy me. I promise. You can tell me what’s going on if you want to.” Wilford looked up and into her eyes. When was the last time someone had willingly listened to him? Yes, he had held meetings with his brothers and forced them to hear out his ideas, but here was (Y/n) asking and pleading for him to let out his pain.
Tears came to his eyes and they slipped out before he could potentially stop them. The Ferris wheel car stopped at the top, rocking back and forth gently for a few seconds before becoming still. Wilford began to speak, his breathing burdened and choked.
“I can’t accurately remember the last time I had this much fun with someone. I mean, I remember bits of exciting parties and events I’ve been to with my brothers and a few friends, though I can’t necessarily call them my friends. It’s just that.. well.. the last girl I took out on a kind of date is gone. She never broke up with me, but she’s gone. I know Celine is dead, but I don’t want to accept it. Before you, she was the last person to really treat me like a sane human being. But I’m not. I’m not sane. I’ve done so many horrible things in my life and, because of how I am, people don’t take me seriously. And who can blame them? I’m Wilford Motherloving Warfstache the pink mustached weirdo! Or have I switched names I’ve forgotten my real one? I don’t know anymore..”
(Y/n) was a bit overwhelmed by this new information, but took pity on the poor man. She walked over to his side of the car and gave him a large hug. He let out a choked sob and clung to her like a child with his mother. “I’m so sorry..” He whimpered into her shoulder. “I’ve ruined everything. I was supposed to cheer you up and here I am dampening the mood.”
“You’ve made me so happy, Wilford. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. I’m so sorry that your card hand of life is so awful. I’m sorry that Celine is gone. She sounds wonderful and I have no doubt that even in death she still loves you so much. You deserve such good things and even though you don’t see it now, know that it’ll get better. Don’t give up on yourself just yet.”
Wilford looked up at her, his eyes slightly red and puffy, but slowly returning to their normal state. “Y-you really mean that?” (Y/n) smiled and leaned forward, kissing his forehead gently. “Every single word.” He hugged her again and breathed a rattled sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you so much, (Y/n). You don’t realize how much that means to me.”
“We weirdos have to stick together, don’t we?” she asked, giggling as he smiled and booped her on the nose, just like he did when they first met. “That’s true. Thanks for the reminder, gumdrop.” He wiped the last of his tears away and the Ferris wheel car continued in descent until it reached the bottom and the door opened for the two of them.
“Well, shall we?” Wilford offered his hand out and she took it, the two of them exiting the ride and joining the crowd outside.
All hints of sadness were gone as they enjoyed their evening. After many roller coasters, booth games, unhealthy but delicious food, and prizes later, they left the carnival and headed toward their car. The sun was going down, bathing the world in a beautiful orange color. Wilford had his arm around (Y/n)’s shoulder as they walked together, laughing and holding bags of cotton candy and some stuffed animals. It was the perfect evening.
“Hey, (Y/n)! Babe, is that you?” She recognized that voice and she turned toward it. There, running toward her, was her ex, (Bf/n). “What are you doing here?” She asked while Wilford glared at the new man. “What am I doing here? Where have you been? I’ve been looking all over the place for you! And who the heck is that? Are you seriously so sad after “breaking up with me” that you’ll take random street bums out?”
Wilford wasn’t just glaring at (Bf/n) now, he was getting up in his chest. “I beg your pardon. I have a name y’know, and at least this “random street bum” is actually able to keep a date rather than blow it off. Also, she did actually dump you. Get your facts right.” (Y/n) watched this go down and she wasn’t sure if she should step in or not.
(Bf/n) growled angrily. “I wasn’t talking to you, freak. Listen, (Y/n). I’m going to make it up to you. You don’t have to go and tear up your reputation anymore than you do already by going out with this 80’s screw up. He doesn’t even actually care about you anyway, weirdo.”
As he reached to take hold of her arm, she slapped his hand away and glared at him. “First of all, he has a 70’s style. Second of all, you have no right to demand that I go with you. You’re a toxic person who doesn’t deserve me. I deserve much better than you, and Wilford is that better. I’m over you. And, yes, I’m weird. Get over it.”
(Bf/n) looked like he was going to blow a blood vessel. “Why you little-” He tried to grab her again, only to back away as Wilford pointed a pistol in his direction. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on her. I will shoot whether you ask me to or not.”
“You’re crazy..” (Y/n)’s ex whimpered as he held his hands in the air, surrendering.
“I get that a lot.” Said Wilford with a sneer. “(Y/n) get away from him.” pleaded (Bf/n), but she didn’t do as she was told and instead clung to Wilford’s arm. “The thing is, I feel safer with him than I do with you so.. no.”
She took Wilford’s hand in hers and walked away and over to their car. “Ah yes. Our victory chariot!” She said, laughing and sliding into the passenger’s seat. (Bf/n) didn’t move from his spot and instead just stared at the two of them as they drove away. Wilford was shocked that (Y/n) didn’t freak out that he had a gun.
“Hey, was that pistol loaded?” She asked, looking at him as they stopped at a red light. “Uh.. yeah. I always carry around a loaded pistol.” She shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “Cool. Guns are fun.” Wilford couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah. Yeah they are.”
The rest of the ride was filled with a comfortable silence as he drove her home, (Y/n) pointing out the way. When they arrived, (Y/n) turned back to look at him in worry. “I just realized that we drove my car all the way here. How are you gonna get back to your house?” Wilford smiled and winked. “It’s not that far, just a snap and poof away.”
“Are you sure? Do you need to call someone so they can pick you up?”
“Nope! Don’t worry, sweetie.”
(Y/n) blushed and shrugged. “Alright. Whatever you say. Thanks again for this evening. It was amazing.” Her new date gave her a mustache covered grin as he bowed. “It was my pleasure.”
A thought occurred to her suddenly and she shuffled nervously. “Do you, maybe, want to do this again sometime? Y’know, without the exes and stuff like that?”
That was an offer Wilford hadn’t expected to receive, but he was delighted to agree. He felt so happy. Happier than he had been in a long time. “Alright then,” Said (Y/n) giving him a kiss on the cheek and turning back to enter her house. “See you around Wilford!”
At the sound of a snap, she turned around to see a small cloud of pink smoke and glitter fade into thin air. “Woah. I guess it really was a snap and a poof away.” She knew he was a bit crazy, but honestly, so was she. That day, both of them had met the person who made them feel whole again. And they were both weirdos with problems.
Who else would they have been?
I have so much respect for people who write Wilford Warfstache x reader fan fictions all the time. Like, omgosh he's such a difficult character to write for. I was requested to write a one shot for him and I've been struggling the past 5 days to come up with the right scenario. And then to put the new scene into words???
OOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHH BOY
I love the pink mustached psycho as much as the next person, but how in the world do you accurately capture his character in a written story and have it make sense???