DISCLAIMER: This work is the original property of the author, NerdcraftMC, and remains solely the property of the author and may not be copied or reproduced in any way, shape or form without the expressed consent of the author. If a copy in part or whole is found on this site or another a report will be made to the administrators of this site and legal action will be taken.

This is a collection dedicated to homosexual YouTuber relationships, running by the rule of don't like don't read.

Contains swearing and mentions of: Death, Suicide, Depression, Self-Harm, Extreme Descriptive Gore, Blood and other delightful things. If you are easily triggered by the above or things related to the above I recommend not re

The majority of the collection follow the trigger warnings above and some are passive.

I started this in an effort to improve my writing skills in romance, horror and angst, the three main things I write under. I would appreciate it if you grew along with me and watched my progress! The beginning shorts are, yes, not my best but they hopefully steadily improve and grow into more. I hope you enjoy reading!

Feel free to send me a prompt (e.g a word, a ship, a genre, but make sure you state it's a prompt) and I would gladly attempt to write it for you. It may occasionally take a while for me to update this, so don't be alarmed if there are gaps between uploads.

This is only a side project with my main priority being my major works and will not be discontinued unless I clearly state it.

Thank you for taking the time to read my stories, I honestly try my best to write at a higher level for you guys. If you're displeased with anything at any point please let me know, and I will endeavour to fix whatever is wrong.

With that out of the way, enjoy!


Countdown

Merome Fic based off Soul Clocks

Everyone is born with a clock on their wrist. At first, experts thought it meant they would die when the clock struck zero, causing alarm at the babies born with short countdowns. Eventually it was proven that the clocks determined when they would meet their Soul mate. As soon as Mitchell Hughes was able to understand this, he was disheartened to see his clock. When he was ten, he still had eight years left. His best friend, Jerome Aceti, tried to console him. Jerome also had eight years left, but they didn't know when they'd meet their soul mate. They couldn't determine it down to the minute until more years had passed. They were excited, nonetheless: they wanted to meet their soul mates around the same time as each other, like their birthdays. Mitch couldn't help but wondering what his soul mate would look like or be as his friends around him met their soul mates and fell in love. Would it be someone he knew, or someone completely new? Where would they meet? At a coffee shop, at an airport, at school? He was excited, and so was Jerome. They couldn't wait.

Eight Years later

Mitch was late, but he had good reason. His clock was nearly complete: he only had five minutes. As he walked, he wondered who it would be. He was due to meet Jerome at the skate park in a few minutes, maybe he'd meet her on the way? Unable to hide the spring in his step, Mitch tried to walk casually. Three minutes. Mitch pressed the button at the crossing, looking from side to side, eager. Last night on the phone, Jerome had told him his clock was due to run down at any moment tomorrow. Now, Mitch wondered if he'd already met his soul mate while he waited for Mitch to arrive. Two minutes. Mitch pressed the button impatiently; was it possible to miss your meeting? Or was it all determined by fate, ready to twist to any change in events? One minute. The car flow was beginning to slow: he would be able to cross at any moment. He saw the skate park across the road. At that moment, Jerome was walking out of the skate park, looking for Mitch. He was late. Jerome looked up and down the past, he skimmed the busy intersection with a steady row of cars still trundling through. Couples walked past, hand in hand, four pale grey zeroes visible on their wrists, and children excitedly walking past and discussing their clocks. Mitch was elated. Fifty seconds. He walked out onto the road, scanning the crowds for the person that could be his forever. Forty seconds. Someone shoved into Mitch's back, and he stumbled, tripping and landing on his hands and knees.

Thirty seconds.

Mitch looked up, saw the light flash from green to red. His eyes widened.

Twenty seconds.

The car barrelled around the corner, unknowing of Mitch's presence, still on the ground, in the middle of the crossing.

Ten seconds.

Jerome heard the screech of tyres, a loud smash, and saw a painfully familiar body go flying through the air as screams echoed.

Five seconds.

Jerome ran over to Mitch, saw him lying motionlessly, bleeding, his leg bent at a strange angle. Screaming, Jerome made it over to Mitch's side just as the clocks on both their wrists burned down into four, grey zeroes.