"Hit the Quan!"
"Why would I hit Daquan? (Y/n), you are so mean."
"No Mark. It's a song. Let me show you."You unplug your headphones and let the music play out loud.
I call shots, just do it like Nike...
"Can someone else just do it?"
"No Mark."No face time but the people wanna skype me...
If I do time then who would really write me?You finally get Mark up by the time it comes to your favorite part.
"Okay here we go."
Clean pair of sneaks, with a de-signer belt,
Pls watch your step,
Cause I'm feelin myself
"Come on Mark, stand right there and fall when I shoot you."
"Now that's fucked up."
"Do it."Throw a flag on the plate
Man somebody get the ref
Gahahahghahha (idk either)
Man somebody get some help
Pull up on the block.."HIT THE QUAN, HIT THE QUAN!"
"I refuse to hit Daquan (y/n). His mixtape is fire."You stare a Mark in disbelief. Did he not see you currently doing the dance in front of him?
"I SAID GET DOWN LOW AND SWING YA ARMS, I SAID GET DOWN LOW AND HIT THE QUAN!"
"Like this?"
Mark started doing something between flailing his arms and 'drop it like it's hot'.
"Oh god Mark."
"HIT THE QUANNNN!"
"You look like a gay stripper."
"That's an insult!" He gasped and said that in a girly voice. The he switched his hips out of the room, taking your phone with him."HIT ZE JUAN!"
"Wow Mark. Come back with my phone! You are so fucking dying."
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Markiplier Reader [NEW 2015]
FanfictionCalm thine tits. Thine tits are very rambunctious. -Mark Fischbach Read it Want it Taste it Flaunt it Feel it Smell it WHY This is an amateur book. I'm barely qualified to make a ham sandwich