୨⎯ "Here, Let me help you up."⎯୧ Who knew that the person who was supposedly going to kill her had become such an important role in her life? Starring Y/n as the nobody who is actually really funny when you get to know her. Masky as the kindest mean person Y/n has ever met. [ I wrote this as a very early teenager. This is in no means a good fic. Please read with caution.] 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 '𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐤𝐞' 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠3 Disclaimer: I do not own any of the creepypastas nor marble hornets. This book is a mere story containing those characters. All rights go to their respective owners. Cover edits by Blxrrii Masky fanart done by dead_ghxsty

"You know Austin, right?" Maddy asked. "Like Austin show Austin?" You asked in return. Maddy nodded. "Yeah, that guy. I got a DM from him today about another Love or Host, he wants me to do." "Ah." You said. It wasn't uncommon for Maddy to make an appearance on that particular show - she had been friends with Austin for a good while, and was one of his go-to's when he needed someone to participate. "Who for?" "One of those Minecraft guys, I don't know." She shrugged. "Anyway, Austin said he was short on participants, and I told him that I had a hot roommate who might be down for it, so I wanted to ask if you would consider hopping on for this one." You pursed your lips. "When is it?" "Couple days. Friday night, I think around like 7?" You pushed off the bed, going over to the corkboard that housed your entire life - sticky notes pressed into the shape of a calendar, each labeled with a number and a list of things you had to do that day. You glanced at Friday's note - mostly empty, except for a few online classes in the morning. If you wanted, you could probably do it. You looked back at Maddy. "You can tell Austin I'll do it." She perked up. "Yeah? You will?" "Yeah." You said, pulling down the sticky note for that day and writing down 'Love or Host - 7' at the bottom of the list before sticking it back up, pinning it in place. It wasn't that big of a deal really. They just needed another person to participate - and going on the Austin Show was always good publicity. "Awesome." Maddy said. "Trust me, this is going to be so fun."

24 new emails looked back at you from the screen. You could feel the headache setting in, but you opened your email anyway, looking through the new messages. Two from your statistics professor, about a new assignment, another one from the RA in the dorm building, one from the admissions office, about your application to the study abroad program, one from your American history professor- Hold the phone. You rapidly clicked on the email from the admissions office, scanning through the paragraphs. Reviewing your application to the program... taking into account your grades and your major... looking at schools in the area... pleased to say we can accept you into the program. Accepted. Part of you had forgotten that you had applied in the first place; it had been months ago back at the end of last semester, and then you had gone home for the summer and put it behind you. But being back at school had brought it to the forefront of your mind again. This was great. You had needed some good news today. Turning up the music, you danced out of your desk chair and jumped around the room a little, excited. You were going to Mexico for a semester. You could already picture it now - warm weather, good food, and firsthand experience speaking Spanish for at least six months, maybe more. Not to mention all the adventures you could have in a foreign country. This would be something you would remember for years, and just thinking about it made your day better.

"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.

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 3 --- Hiraeth (Welsh pronunciation: [hɪraɨ̯θ, hiːrai̯θ]) is a Welsh word for longing or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret. The feeling of longing for a home that no longer exists or never was. A deep and irrational bond felt with a time, era, place or person. --- You were close enough that you could see the crew scurrying about on deck now. They looked as ragged as the ship - no sense of unity about them other than that they were all standing on deck together, swords brandished as you approached. You scanned over them and felt suddenly grateful for your sailing uniform - some of those pirates didn't even have shoes. Simon strode the deck, scanning through the ranks for the captain of the Ghost. You had been given some indication as to what she looked like, but when she parted herself from the ranks of her crew, you weren't quite ready for what she actually looked like. They didn't do her justice on the wanted posters back home. She was short, but powerfully built. You could see ram horns sticking out from underneath her extravagant hat, and her coat was a bright blood red - the gold trim faded somewhat. You were most focused on her hair though - pure white and absolutely massive, it looked like a cloud around her head. Stern eyes finished the look, and you couldn't help but be a little bit entranced - this was the kind of person that people were scared to make eye contact with. Simon didn't seem all that frightened when he came to stand on the edge of your own deck, facing her over the narrow strip of sea that separated you - and you were grateful. If you were captain, you didn't know if you would be able to look her in the eye.

RICH KIDS SERIES: BOOK TWO It's different here now. The halls no longer echo with laughter and chatter, and the portraits trade long glances. A shadow of death has taken residence overnight, casting the castle in gloom. It feels awfully like home. You despise it. -- In which a group of Slytherins - kids - are trying to survive a struggle between their pasts and the present without being ripped apart.

RICH KIDS SERIES: BOOK ONE "You're so lucky." Lucky. Lucky to be in a wealthy pureblood family. Lucky to have parents who believed in that old saying 'children should be seen and not heard' - especially when it came to you. Lucky to have friends in the same boat - friends that had destructive tendencies, mental breakdowns, panic attacks when letters from home would come. Lucky to be stuck in a family that supported a murderous warmonger risen from the dead. Yes, lucky indeed. -- In which, a bunch of Slytherins have decisions to make - decisions, that might just end their lives if they're not careful.

The closest thing Medusa has to a friend is the barista at her favorite coffee shop. Not many want to befriend someone who can turn them to stone and has snakes for hair. Until she meets Ruth. At first, Medusa keeps her at a distance but regardless of her blindness, Ruth shows Medusa that there is still beauty in this world, and like sunflowers, we must allow the light to lift us from the darkness. Novel version in progress...⏳ Cover by: Annalise Jenson on Instagram ⚠️ Trigger Warnings: Mentions of a past rape (no graphic scene), rape culture, victim-blaming, emotional abuse, and self-harm (no cutting) ⚠️

~Flowers From 1970~ REUPLOADED

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK 2 --- Versailles (proper noun). The argument over the etymology of Versailles tends to privilege the Latin word 'versare', meaning "to keep turning, turn over and over", an expression used in medieval times for plowed lands, cleared lands (lands that had been repeatedly "turned over"). --- He wasn't like any endermen you had seen before - probably because he wasn't fully an enderman. He was tall like an enderman, but that was where the similarity ended. He was split down the middle - half of his skin the same inky black as the twins, the other half a radiant white. His eyes didn't match either - one blood red and the other emerald green. His hair fell in soft waves, almost obscuring his eyes at times, and he kept his head tilted down, his sharp jawline on display. He seemed timid, but that might have just been the situation - anyone behind bars would likely hang their head.