germanybabeex33

The tune of an incoming Skype call startled you out of your trance. You had been playing Minecraft, and you were playing with such intensity that you forgot the world around you. You glimpsed at the incoming caller: Mark Fischbach, it read. You adjusted your webcam and clicked the “Accept Call” button. On your screen appeared Mark, also known as Markiplier, your friend and fellow YouTuber. You gave a small smile and asked, “What’s up?” Mark let out a heaving sigh and tipped his head back. His black-and-red plaid shirt was disheveled and his ebony hair was mussed, as if he couldn’t be bothered to keep track

.:Germany:. “Ludwig, come on,” you groaned when Ludwig would continually ignore you, poking his cheek in annoyance. His grunt of playful annoyance was the only indication of him being awake, “Get up and off your sexy ass already and go check up on the baby... And don't even TRY combing your hair, it looks more attractive right now...” Ludwig chuckles softly at you in his pretend sleep, deciding to just encase you in his strong arms and buff chest to keep you from moving. You frowned at your husband and the sounds of your darling child calling for you and Ludwig, the sleepy parents, from the nursery room. Ludwig merel

"I'm bored" someone moaned, you paid no attention, you were too busy concentrating on not making a fool of yourself while sitting next to your crush, Alfred. Alfred was first, with everything, you had known him since grade school. He was first to friend zone you too. You were at Gilbert’s latest party and the gang was running out of games to play. You had played Charades, Truth or Dare, even Checkers. Thankfully, you were making some new friends; mostly other girls because you knew all the guys. “I know!” Francis said “let’s play spin the bottle.” “What’s that?” You asked, Gilbert and

 I sighed, knowing that since I was in this predicament I would just have to make the best of it. After a moment of thought, I sighed again and recited my chosen number. “Ten.” There were a few “Aw”s from the group before I turned around to see. All of them seemed to have a disappointed look on their faces––except one. He stood on one end of the line, his dark caramel-brown eyes widening and a light pink dusting his cheeks. I saw that his fists were clenched, as if to restrain himself from doing anything rash. Gilbert walked toward me, wrapped his arm around my shoulders, and faced the group. “A

((Excuse me while I stare at this Italian hunk of a man)) "Idiota! That is the worst idea ever!" Romano snapped at his brother. Italy flinched and put his hands up in front of him , as if to protect himself from his temperamental brother. "I'm sorry fratello! I used up a lot of good ideas when helping Big Brothers Antonio and Francis!" the younger Italian whined. Romano scoffed and turned his head to look out the window. It was a bright sunny day , not a cloud in the sky. A day that would make anyone happy. Except , of course , the highly upset Italian. 'Once again my brother thinks of others before me. There's no way in hell I'm proposin

You felt around until you finally pulled out an item and showed it to America. "Okay bros! Who put a burnt scone in the-" America cut himself off, knowing who had put the scone in there. "Geez England why are you predictable dude?" America asked. "W-what how did you know it was me!? It could have been anyone!" England said back. "Because dude, you're the only one who makes these nasty things." "They are not nasty they are delicious, unlike your greasy fast food!" "Fast food is the best, your scones can kill people!" "So can your fast food! If you keep eating like that you're going to have a heart attack!" The bickering continued for a whi

 ". . . Ready or not, here I come!" At one of Alfred's parties, we all decided to play hide and seek, Alfred, of course, being "it". I ran into one of the back rooms, spotting an unlocked footlocker. After stepping inside it and making myself comfortable, I closed the lid, being careful not to lock it. Several minutes passed, and I wasn't found by anyone else. A few moments later, I heard someone frantically stagger into the room, closing the door behind them. There was a short pause before the lid to the footlocker opened, leaving me exposed. I wasn't caught, though, because the person standing before me was my cute little red-headed Ita

 I feel an enveloping darkness beginning to consume me, swallow me whole. I feel nothing as I slip into the darkness. It’s a complete void. Nothing hurts. Nothing feels good. Nothing. The only outcome for a world that no longer has a purpose. The purpose of the world is to survive, just like that of the creatures crawling upon it. Even us. We humans have no purpose anymore––if we ever did. There is nothing to do now except go on living another day, and another day, and another. . .until the end of our days. There seems to be no comfort here in this world, no real haven. No place where you can truly lay down your head w

The tune of an incoming Skype call startled you out of your trance. You had been playing Minecraft, and you were playing with such intensity that you forgot the world around you. You glimpsed at the incoming caller: Mark Fischbach, it read. You adjusted your webcam and clicked the “Accept Call” button. On your screen appeared Mark, also known as Markiplier, your friend and fellow YouTuber. You gave a small smile and asked, “What’s up?” Mark let out a heaving sigh and tipped his head back. His black-and-red plaid shirt was disheveled and his ebony hair was mussed, as if he couldn’t be bothered to keep track