YouTube One Shots

Fuzzy Screen [Markiplier] (Rated M)

"-and I will see you, in the next video. Buh-bye!" He looks into the camera and waves. On instinct as a fangirl, you wave back and say bye, as if he was talking to you.

You heave a sigh and close the burning laptop. The warmth of the laptop was still on your pajama pants. You had just got through watching probably 3 and 1/2 hours of Markiplier videos, because you had the time.

Tossing the laptop away, you groan and stretch. A yawn escaped your mouth, and you stand up, but before you could even think of making one step, your phone vibrated and moved to fall on the floor.

"What the fresh hell...", out of sheer sleepy and laziness, you picked it up with your feet, more specifically you toes. A small image of the app showed that it was from Facebook Messenger. It said ,"Benny: Hey, r u awake"

Opening it up, you send a text back to him ,"Yah, getin' ready 2 hit the hay. Night." You sigh once more and click the power off button, then hook it up to a charger.

It was about 2:34 at night, hah, 234. You decided because you could only use your moms charger to charge the laptop, and it was in her room, while she was asleep. Instead you decided to move to the office because there was a desk top, and because that was the last option.

You walk lightly, on heightened feet, like a cat. Why was the room so big? It felt like it took 20 years just to get to the door. Finally, grasping the knob, and slowly twist it right, and it makes a small click.

Carefully, you push the door open just a crack, and look for anyone else. To the great avail, everyone was in there room. You let out a sigh and walk as you did on your way to the door.

Finally inside the room, you shut the door slowly and quietly, then sigh loudly. "Okay, that was like a spy mission,"

You look to your left, and see the desk with the everything set in place. Clicking both buttons, you turn on the modem and the system, then sit in the plush swivel chair. (e/c) eyes gloss over everything in the room, then stop at the retro clock, and it suddenly clicks to 2:42. "Wow, in 8 mins, new record!"

The login screen finally shows onto the screen, and you key in the user and password, then open the internet to YouTube. The bell symbol at the top right had a "1" near it, meaning you had 1 notification. After you moved my mouse and clicked it, it showed the new notification and some old ones. You click the top one named "Markiplier uploaded a new video..."

It showed the title "I'm at Comicon 201X!" with a witty description. You click it, and it loads the video. When you were given the option to go full screen, you take the chance and click the button. The black loading screen fills the desktop screen, making it dimmer in the room. You stretch your arms out, pop your neck and scratch your back, waiting for the video to load. Bored out of your wits, you decide to spin around for a while, you know, for fun.

After a couple of spins, the room gets blue-er. You turn to see what it was, and it was the blue screen error. You face palmed and felt the monitor. Instead of just setting your hand on it, it went through it, like if it was a vortex. Yanking your hand back, you screech, but keep your gaze focused on the screen, unwavering, and the screen unchanging.

A cup of finely assorted utensils, such as pencils, pens, and, markers, sat near a stainless steel lamp, and you decided in an instant, to try throwing one of the pencils through the screen. There was already a drawer full of them, so no one would be able to tell if just one pencil was just up and suddenly missing. Slowly, keeping your glare steady towards the screen, you drew out a pencil and studied it. No different than the others, other than small bite marks, and a half used eraser.

Slowly and carefully, you waved your arm and mentally counted to three to prep yourself to throw it. "One... Two... Three!" You felt the small marks on the pencil slide past your fingers and fly towards the glow of the monitor. With a heedful glare, you watched as it flew... then hit the screen to only fall onto the desk with a ta-kk. You slumped your heightened shoulders and watched in disappointment as it laid there, tranquil and still.

"Fuck...", You hear a man's voice behind the computer, and a crowds following after. You recognise the voice as Mark's and you instantly throw your arm in without hesitation. With a quick movement, and a pinching-itching sensation, you flop into a room after you were pulled in. The room was empty, quiet, and only held the contents of a normal hotel room, and in the corner was a suit case. You must have left your mind at home, because you wondered the room and explored without one thought.

First it was Mark's case, being provided the fact it was Marks because of the travel tag engraved with "Mark E. Fischbach". You unzipped it, biting your lip softly.

"A few shirts... two pairs of pants... boxers..." Your hand hovered over 3 silver wrapped packets linked together, leave it to you to guess what it is. You close the case, and walk the bathroom. A bottle of Old Spice Shampoo sat on the edge of the shower, and a towel was on the ground. You walked in and surveyed more. As you walked in, a sound of footsteps reverberated in the hall, and you ran into the bathroom closet. A lock disengaged and the patter of feet stopped at the door. He yawned and stretched, then walked into the bathroom. What luck...

"Oh no no noooooo~", You thought as you peered halfway through the shutters, you saw him lean over to the nozzle of the bath, and twist it 45 degrees to the right. He begins to strip, but not before you slumped into a corner and covered you mouth. The little scar from his bellybutton to his abs was the last detail you traced from his body. After closing your eyes, you tried to look around after hearing the shower curtain move twice, but you were deceived as you saw his back muscles, and slid down further onto the ground.

"Fuck a duck with a puck..." You didn't know how you were going to leave, but, being that it was late at night, 7 hours after you had ate dinner, you were hungry and your stomach gave you half away. He heard it, but ignored it, just turning around from the sink.

He showered, left, returned, ate, and went to bed. Being that you were hungry, and needed to leave now, you hesitantly opened the closet. A towel came flying down and you jolted your head in, resuling in the towel falling into our lap and notice its crease lines and lavender scents. You crawled to peer through the door, and continued as soon as he flipped over on his left side, making you out of his line of sight.

You crawled to the post of the bed, and then to the knob after testing how deep in sleep he was by psst-ing. You waddled to the knob and twisted and pulled. A loud dumf sounded through the room as the chain lock was still latched. Lucky, night blindness had hit Mark, and he didn't see you for long enough for you to unlock it, and slither out.

As you felt your pocket for you phone to check the time, it wasn't in your pocket. You fell to the ground, covering your face with your hands. As your arms went to relax, he opened the door and walked into the hall. You stood, back against the wall, but face still covered. As you turned to run, you looked down and saw a steady flow of tears on your shirt. You fucked up. The one thing you never thought your would do was fall into the room of someone you looked up to, yet you did. That screen was a curse.