I Brought You My Bullets Lockscreens // Requested By Anon

MAX: maybe it's all just a dream (@dibphobic)

he protec. he attacc. but most importantly…. he love wilford warfstache

Wilford: *blushes and fumbles with his phone when Dark enters the room*

Darkiplier: will, were you watching porn?

Wilford, blushing hardcore: ...yes?

Darkiplier: that was a lie

Darkiplier: *snatches his phone and looks*

Darkiplier: will, this is a picture of me

Wilford: exactly

generate a girlfriend here and tag this with what kind of girlfriend you got

Wilford: He doesn’t deserve you- If he doesn’t treat you right by now you’re gone

Yan: I’m gone!

Wilford: NOW GO CHOP HIS DICK OFF

dark: get out

Mark is good at giving instructions.

Language Of Love

I’M GOING TO USE THE FACT THAT I SPEAK FRENCH TO MY ADVANTAGE AND MAKE A FLUFFY FIC AFTER BREAKING YOUR GUYS’ HEARTS.  I SPEAK CANADIAN FRENCH, NOT FRANCE FRENCH.

SUMMARY:  Damien could speak many languages, one of which was French.  

———————————————————————————————————–

It was a quiet evening in City Hall, everyone had gone home to be with their families, except Damien, his office was the only one to be illuminated this late at night.  The young mayor sat at his desk, hunched over a bunch of papers and the scratching of his pen the only thing to be heard in the silent office.  

“Qu’est-ce que je vais faire?”  Muttered Damien, running his hand through his hair as he looked at all the other paperwork he had to complete.  He checked the grandfather clock, which indicated it was nearly midnight, so Damien decided he could go for another hour or two.

A soft knock on the door had interrupted Damien, causing him to momentarily look up from his work and shout that the door was open, in French of course, he tended to speak in his mother tongue when he was overwhelmed.  The knob twisted and the door opened, revealing a grinning Colonel William at his doorstep.

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