CrossfireMisty85

 "Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!" The Spaniard turned around at the sound of his name being called. His eyes fell upon _____, his best friend for as long as he could remember (excluding Gilbert and Francis, of course). His lips curled up into a happy smile when he saw her-- even though she was glaring daggers at him. "Hola, bonita," he said with the big grin still on his face. "How have you been?" "Oh, just fine, thank you," she replied, crossing her arms. There was a razor-sharp edge building in her voice. "What's the matter, bonita? You okay?" "Oh, yeah!" She stomped past him angrily, heading inside the house. "Everything's peachy-ke

 "_____! _____!" I turned my head to see my boyfriend, Gilbert Beilschmidt. He was running toward me with his arms flailing in the air. "What is it, Gil?" I asked. "Gilbird's gone missing!" he said, panicked. "Oh, no! Do you want me to help you look for him?" If it were anyone else's pet, I wouldn't have bothered. But it was Gilbird, and he was just so cute that I had to find him-- and he was my boyfriend's bird, after all. Gil nodded. "Ja, thanks." So we looked. And looked. And looked. We looked all through Gil's and Ludwig's house and property, but there was no sign of the little bird. After about an hour of searching, Francis a

 "Alfred! Where are we going?!" I said as Alfred pushed me along through his gigantic house. He snickered. "You'll see~!" I rolled my eyes. We arrived at a door, which Alfred opened and shoved me into the room, closing and locking the door. It turns out the room wasn't a room-- it was a closet. It was a small, empty closet, barely able to fit two people. Wait. Two people. . . I banged my fist on the door. "Alfred Foster Jones! Get me out of this closet, or so help you, I will--" Before I could say any more, the door opened and Arthur was pushed in. The door closed, pushing Arthur closer to me. I could see his emerald green eyes st

 "Ugh," groaned Gilbert as he downed the rest of his drink. "I'm so bored!" "Well, this is your party, mon ami," chided his best friend Francis. "We should do something entertaining." "Oh! I know!" said Gilbert's other best friend, Antonio. "Let's play Hide-and-Seek!" "Good idea!" Gilbert climbed onto a tabletop. "Everybody! I've got a cure for all of your boredom! We'll play Hide-and-Seek!" _____, hearing her friend's announcement, put down her drink and smiled. "That sounds like fun!" "Seriously?" said her boyfriend, Ludwig, with a raised eyebrow. "Games are for kleine Kinder." "C'mon, Luddy!" _____ took his hand, making him blu

 “Hey, everybody! Let’s play Hide-and-Seek!” I smiled up at my Prussian friend standing on a nearby tabletop. The crazy albino had just recommended that we all play Hide-and-Seek at one of his famous parties (or, rather, infamous parties). He and his two best friends, Antonio and Francis, claimed to be “it”, and they turned around and began to count. “C’mon, _____,” said my best friend Alfred. He took my hand and led me upstairs and down a hallway, stopping when we came to an almost empty room. We went inside the room, closing the door behind us, and spotted a large footlocker that was big e

 ". . . 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

 “Gil! What the hell are you doing?!” “You’ll thank me later, Frau!” he said, the smirk on his face evident in his voice, as he carried me over his shoulder up the stairs in his house. He reached the top and went into a room where Antonio and Francis were waiting. The two were sitting on a footlocker, and I could have sworn I heard muffled obscenities come from it. “Ready?” the albino asked. The other two nodded, and positioned themselves to get off and open the footlocker. Gilbert took me closer to it and threw me inside the split second they opened the lid. When I was fully inside, they immedi

 “(Your name) what are you looking at?” Emil, the white haired Icelandic man asked, while watching his friend shuffle through random sites on the computer. He didn't have the slightest idea why she was at his house, but he didn't care. He rather her be over more than anyone else. “Just some things to ask you..” (your name) replied, a smile appearing on her face, seeing as she found the site she wanted. “What do you want to ask me then?” Emil replied questionably, as if ready for some super tricky math question, for something about his brother or- “Is is true that Iceland has the strongest men an

 "Norwegian's look as if they're soaked in bleach.." Lukas Bondevik, turned his head to see (first name) (last name) glaring at a computer screen, seemingly talking to herself. Finding this all to interesting, Lukas peered over, accidentally resting his head on her shoulder, making her gasp and turn to see him. "Lukas you scared me!" she replied, clicking the minimize button. "What were you looking at?" he asked, taking the mouse, putting his hand over hers and moving the mouse back to the website she was on. It wasn't really a site though. She was looking up 'Norwegian Stereotypes', and Lukas raised an eyebrow. (Your name) just let ou

 "Francis, is it true french people drink wine like water?" The blond haired french-man looked over at his friend (your name), and a smile appeared on his face. "Well I love za wine~" he laughed. "But non. It's not drunk like water-" "Is is true french wash less often than others?" He nearly screamed. Well he did, just in a non-many way. "Zat is not true (your name)! I love to be clean!" he flipped his hair with a wink, making (your name) smrik and turn back into her seat. "What are you doing anyway?" Francis peered over his friends shoulder to see 'French Stereotypes' on the screen. He didn't seem to happy about it. "(Your name)