You Don’t Have To Hurt Yourself To Call Him Out.

Needing A Fix

I might have gotten a little…carried away

Needing A Fix

Dark was sitting at his desk, finishing up the last pieces of paperwork when he felt something touch his shoulders. It only took a breath to realize that they were hands and he knew those hands very well.

“Hello, Wil.” Dark greeted. “Do you need something?”

“A fix.” Wilford said.

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HELP IM SITTING AT THE BARBERSHOP AND THE LORAX NOTICED ME TAKING PICS

glad to know mayor damien is alive and starring in axe ads lmao

time’s up

Honestly are you and mark still friends?

I know a lot of people have been wondering this and I haven’t mentioned anything on it. I’ve been purposefully avoiding the question. 

Mark and I had a long overdue call today and talked some stuff out. It’s the first time we had talked to each other properly since maybe PAX last year. We weren’t exactly the best of friends in that period and honestly we were never really AS close as people made out online anyway.  Nothing serious happened between us, we didn’t fight and no Septiplier didn’t tear our friendship apart. Things just kind of ended up the way they did.

I didn’t say anything on the matter because I didn’t think it was right to talk about it until Mark and I talked about it first in private. Moving on this year we’ve both agreed to try our best to get back to a good place in our friendship and not let something like this happen again. 

This is all I will say on the matter because I know how many people are desperate for information on it. Please don’t start up the rumour mills, speculating endlessly about what might have happened and please respect both of us. 

we have 12 hours left (because est is the only time zone i acknowledge) to come up with the last meme of 2017 

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.  

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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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Wilford’s gloom

Everybody: *eats tide pods*

Mark, an intellectual:

anatomy who?