"𝐁𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨." COVID travel restrictions force you to quarantine with a certain Minecraft YouTuber-what a terrible inconvenience... Come for the silliness and the COVID setting. Stay for the quality prose, plot, and characterization. Go check out the cover artist! https://twitter.com/riyuun_

One Shots of the boys of the Dream Team. Feel free to request. Dream Team if you see this, no you didn't. But also, hi I'm 20.

It's just oneshots 👌🏼 Cover art by me dm me if you want one made Idk what this is Hope you like it🥺👉🏼👈🏼🖤

i will NOT be doing any stories about anyone under the age of 18.

Caught in a war L'Manburg can't win, Wilbur offers up one last thing. You.

You don't know who you are, everything that you used to know about yourself is gone. Yet there is one person in this world that knows you the most but he is trapped in a prison. So you do the only thing you can think of to get him to talk, you make a deal.

if 7 frat boys placed a bet to see who could get you in bed first what would you do? -- 2nd person lower case intended includes smut & cursing -- cover art by cloudedfrogs on twt!! check them out :D

😭

The door opened, and you were faced with a young man about your age. He filled the whole doorframe with his height, though he was kind of lanky looking. A few brown fluffy curls stuck out from underneath his beanie, and he wore glasses, looking down at you. "Oh, you are rather tall." You said, the words slipping out of you before you could stop yourself. You clamped your mouth shut before the rest of the thought could slip out as well - he was rather fit, too. He blinked quizzically. "Um, sorry?"

"I'll read it out for you." Anne said, handing the cigarette back to you. "Wanted; for breaking and entering and robbery. Unknown bandit seen leaping from a window of a bank in Kempton, may be walking with a limp from the fall. Suspected to be about 5'8" and stocky build. Should any leads arise please contact local authorities." --- You hadn't even seen him there, obscured in the darkness of night - and it was obvious that he hadn't been expecting anyone to come out back. He startled, stumbling away from where he had been leaning, and your heart leapt into your throat, surprised in the worst way possible. So surprised, that you threw the bag of vegetable scraps at him as a form of self defense. The bag bounced harmlessly against the man's chest and landed on the ground. Your eyes darted to it first, but then up to the man you had thrown it at - taking in his features from the light streaming out of the still-open door. He wasn't too tall, but he had the build of someone who had known a farm life before - broad shoulders and muscle made for work, not show. His clothes were practical, and he carried a pack strapped to his back. It was his face that was the most interesting though - he couldn't have been much older than you, and he looked kind, for lack of a better word. Open, almost.