𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘫𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 ★#1 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝 ★#𝟾 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚙 ★#𝟾 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚖𝚙 ★#𝟻 𝚒𝚗 𝚓𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚡𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

"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."

an emperor and his lover, struggling to balance- all while a war is amidst. jschlatt x fem! she/her reader tws will be given before each chapter <3 follows dsmp lore- somethings have changed for plot reasons, just go with it, things will make sense. this story focuses around the messier parts of relationships, the pain, and the conflict. warning: this story deals with heavy topics: alcoholism, manipulation, sex, depression, death, and others. please do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable.

Hello Y/N, My name is Jack Manifold and I'm a twitch streamer/youtuber (you can find me @ jackmanifoldtv). Recently I've been working on designing and getting merch for my subscribers, and I've been looking for a photographer to possibly help with a merch photoshoot so I'll have some pictures for the website. I found your page through Instagram and so far you look like you know what you're doing. I just was wondering about your price range for that sort of thing and when you would be available for a shoot? Jack Manifold (not sus) ---- Hello Jack, Thank you for the request. I took a look at your page, and I would be happy to set up a time for a shoot. The price would depend on how many hours the shoot would be, and my rate is about £100 an hour. As for availability, I am still in school, so it would have to be either in the afternoon or on the weekend if you wanted it earlier in the day. Hopefully that's not an inconvenience! Y/N (also not sus, just in case you were wondering)

PHANTASM SERIES BOOK FIVE ---- Tryst (noun): a private romantic rendezvous between lovers, "a moonlight tryst". ---- Your eyes drifted upwards catching onto the glint of the sword that had saved you and following the curve of the blade upwards until you came to a knarled hand, with dirt under the fingernails. You followed the arm upwards until you reached his face - partly obscured underneath a green and white striped hat. You were able to catch onto blue eyes and the scruff of a beard underneath a mop of blonde hair though. What drew your attention most though, was the crow's wings behind him, flared out and glinting by the light of the sword. You hadn't even heard him swoop down for the approach. For someone who hadn't been seen in over a century, the Angel of Death looked young... too young. But then he was spinning away, wings flapping behind him so that he hovered over the ground as he sliced through anything that came too close for comfort. Even the skeletons a ways away weren't safe from his flames when their zombie counterparts came staggering too close. Soon enough, the dark forest was alight with burning undead creatures, providing a light source for you to stagger up to your feet as the Angel slid his sword back into it's scabbard. You weren't expecting him to round on you like he did, fire in his eyes. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Can I tell you a secret?" he says in a hushed voice in the ill-illuminated room. "Spill," I smiled, thinking it was going to be something stupid like he peed his bed till he was six. Those were the kind of secrets we've been blurting out for the past thirty minutes as the tiredness of the late night got to us. "I'm Dream." he said in total seriousness, "Like the minecraft youtuber." I was quiet for a second before I laughed out loud.

Dream rules the Smp his way. A feared warrior and merciless. He tries to focus on his problems at hand but someone catches his eye. A beautiful girl he sees everyday. Y/N isn't just beautiful, she's strong, independent, and a skilled fighter. She's perfect for him. But when Dream wants something, he'll do anything to have it. Once she's his, he'll never let her go, but Y/N isn't one to be controlled, especially by the most powerful person on the Smp. Dream will soon have to realize that control isn't the way to love, or he'll lose Y/N forever. ⚠️⚠️ WARNINGS⚠️ ⚠️ Violence, blood, death, swearing, and light smut (I try to put warnings before it and tell you when it's over) Art by @sismars__on Twitter

The song ended as you merged onto the highway and another familiar song started up - not by Myra but by an adjacent band to the Myracle Makers that you also liked - the Dream Team. You had found out about them through Myra's music (Spotify thought that they went together well) and you had fallen in love with a couple of their songs, and then a couple more, until you were in their top .5% of listeners. They were one of your favorite bands, and their song Florida Smile was a song for the soul. You smiled to yourself, turning up the radio. The familiar beat of the drums pumped through the speakers of your car and you began to sing along as the lead singer - he went by Dream as a stage name (like Dream's Team... haha) - began to sing. You knew all the words by heart. And you've got a Florida smile... sends my heart racing to the mark at the mile...

Dream is locked in Pandora's Vault for his crimes, the most secure prison on the Smp. The guards torture him and treat him inhumanely He can't escape, unless... he has some outside help. Everything changes when he meets the new guard, Y/N. She's unlike the other guards and he grows close to her. But as a prisoner and a guard, their relationship can't stay together in the prison. What about outside the prison? But as their relationship grows, problems arise. Dream and Y/N must choose: Be the heroes and save everyone? Or be the villains and cause irreversible damage and chaos on the Smp. ⚠️ WARNINGS⚠️ (Contains violence, blood, death, swearing, and light smut) (I try to put warnings before it and tell you when it's over) Cover Art by @ibomkii on Twitter

"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.