#paranoid little British man

[rowanraven08]

My wet cat :3

[qqueenofhades]

I really really REALLY need to see more people makimg the connection between trump and his russian handlers tbh.......like i know we've somehow gone through the looking glass of putin apologia but that piece abt the NYT you just posted, the bots, the interference: in the bag for trump? Yes. But i dont believe its due to his or even republican power or popularity or forcefulness.......this is a man with so much debt and kompromat thats only getting worse!! Not to sound kwazy BUT WE ARE BEING FULLY INFLITRATED and at the risk of conspiracizing i think the russians are ALSO behind the Times's demise along with so many other information centers etc. Like i KNOW these leftists love him but like. Wouldnt they care a LITTLE abt being manipulated like this???

Trump is 100% an active, willing, and eager Russian agent. That's not even paranoid conspiracy theory, that's just the only reasonable interpretation of the facts:

NOT TO MENTION that in the next two years after the Helsinki conference where Trump kowtowed to Putin in every way, the CIA admitted to losing huge and unusually high numbers of classified informants around the world (not CIA agents, but people secretly working for the American government in often-hostile countries):

Once again, this all happened when Trump was in office, when he was actively handing over CIA intel to the Kremlin against the wishes of the entire national security establishment, and which other experts have suggested was directly as a result of Trump handing over the identities of American informants to Russia, including those stationed in Russia itself:

Now, I could go on, but you get the point. Not to mention that Trump just lost a major UK-based lawsuit against Christopher Steele, the former MI6 agent who was the first to provide documents linking Trump to Russia in the controversial "Steele dossier":

And now: Trump is deeply in hock for hundreds of millions in legal fees and punitive judgments that are only increasing by the day, he somehow just came up with $90 million to appeal the judgment against E. Jean Carroll (nobody knows where he got this money either), and Russian state TV spends all their time openly salivating for Trump's return to the presidency (so he can hand over Ukraine and the rest of NATO and, as he literally said, "let Russia do whatever the hell they want.") I know we're largely numb to all the awful treasonous shit that Trump does, but like. This isn't a conspiracy theory, this is just what's going on in plain sight, and while the Online Leftists have recently become so stupid that I honestly can't tell if it's just terminal brainworms or active Russian psyops, it's strongly indicated that it is in fact a mix of both:

So, like. Just some food for thought.

[mentime]

✿ cum undone ✿

title: cum undone

summary: when Billy Butcher isn't coming up with new reasons to hate Supes, he works as a phone sex operator.

w.c: 2.5k

warnings: phone sex, cursing, fingering, slight hint at pain play but only very very slightly, solo masturbation, nothing graphic at all tbh

note: hi first work!! hope everyone is doing well, sorry if there's any typos, kind of rushed it but hope you enjoy thanks for reading <3

What in the actual fuck were you doing?

Your thoughts begin spiralling, and you grasped at your bedsheets to try and ground yourself, but despite your efforts, your breaths were becoming faster and shallower.

And you still couldn't bring yourself to hang up the phone.

See, you had found yourself in a bit of a predicament. It had been building up all week, you've been feeling hot and bothered over small things, it was getting to be too much for you. Which is what lead you to now, watching helplessly with bated breath as your phone dialed the number for a phone sex hotline that you had discovered on the internet in your haste to solve your... problem.

The phone rings once...

This was a bad idea.

Then twice...

This was a really, really bad idea.

Then three times...

This is getting pathetic now, you should really just hang up-

"Hello, love, Butcher here, ready to satisfy every desire you could possibly come up with in that pretty little head of yours", a gruff, gravelly British accent answers on the other side of the phone, reciting what seems to be the company's slogan. You could feel blood flowing to your cheeks and an abundance of heat pooling in your abdomen at the sound of the man's voice alone. "Are ya in need of some…service?"

You scramble to get closer to the phone, flushed and out of breath already. You try to think of something clever to say, something that doesn't give you away as just a total inexperienced loser, but you don't come up with anything special.

"Hi", you manage to will your voice to speak at a somewhat normal volume and pace. "Um, yes please?"

The man, Butcher, on the other side of the phone chuckles at the questioning lilt of your tone, and you feel yourself flush even deeper, although you didn't know that could be possible. When he speaks next, you can hear the smug grin in his voice.

"And what sort of service do ya have in mind, love?", the man continues, and his voice lowers, even deeper, as he speaks again. "I’d be more than happy to accommodate ya."

Your mind comes to a complete halt, both at how fucking attractive this man sounds, and because you actually have no clue what you want from this phone call. Of course, you know the end goal, you're not that oblivious, but you hadn't really thought of how exactly to get... there.

"Oh, um, I don't know", you whisper, shyly. "I've never really done this before..."

"That’s completely fine, darlin’, s'what I'm here for, ain't it?", and even though his words are kind, you could swear you can hear a smirk in his voice. Maybe you're just paranoid. "We’ll take it nice and slow. Why dontcha tell me what you’ve been thinkin’ about?"

You hear some shuffling around and a grunt on the other side of the line, presumably the man getting more comfortable, and even that noise evokes something within you.

"Well,", you start nervously, your tongue darting out to wet your lips. "Um, it's just that lately, I've been getting kind of... riled up over small things, and I haven't been able to really, uh, fix this problem."

You internally cringe at that absolute word vomit that you had just spewed, and you grip at your sheets and screw your eyes shut, nearly hanging up until you hear the man chuckling softly.

"So, what you're tellin' me is that ya need some help masturbating", and you're definitely sure you can hear the smirk in his voice now. "Do I have it right, lovie?"

You nod, unable to command yourself to speak, until you cop onto the fact that Butcher can't actually see you. You manage a quiet little "yes".

"Well, of course I'll help ya, love", Butcher says softly, and you nearly melt as your fingers loosen their death grip on the sheets. "It's me bloody job and I'm fuckin' amazing at it, so we'll have your little problem sorted and you'll be right as rain."

If you weren't so nervous, you'd be full on beaming, and you can feel yourself nodding along to the man's words.

"And 'cause I'm so damn good at what I do, I can already tell you're not much of a talker", and thank god for sexy, intelligent men. "That ain't no big deal to me, love. I'll just tell ya what to do, and your only job is to enjoy yourself and let me know if ya want to stop at anytime."

You nod, and you chide yourself for being so silly, but it doesn't matter because it's almost as if Butcher could sense it through the phone, and he proceeds anyway.

"First, I want ya to get comfy. Do whatever you gotta do, darlin', I'm in no rush."

You hurry to lie back, limbs splayed out over your plush duvet. You try your best to calm yourself down with a few deep breaths, but you struggle to keep your excitement at bay.

"Now, just listen to the sound of me voice", his gravely voice softens, and you focus all of your attention solely on him. "Let me guide ya. I want ya to start by slowly and gently brushing your skin with your nails."

You do just that. You rake your nails softly on the exposed parts of your body, enjoying how it stimulates you and makes your skin tingle.

His voice gets low and soft as he continues.

"Follow the lines of your body, love. Across your stomach, down your sides, wherever it feels nice. If it helps ya, picture me touchin’ you, my hands moving across your skin."

Oh god, why did he have to go and do that. You can just imagine it now, with your eyes shut, breaths deepening as your hands roam your body, an impeccably handsome man, big hands exploring every inch of your skin, leaving a burning trail in their path.

"Good girl, you’re doing very well", his voice still low and seductive. "I want ya to keep moving your hands. Slide them up, higher, towards your tits."

Your face burns at his language, but you comply regardless, shivering at the sensitive touch.

"Imagine it’s my hands that are on your skin, touchin' ya", his voice is as soft as velvet, and even though you can hear the teasing smirk in his tone, you can't bring yourself to care as you get lost in your fantasies of a faceless British man caressing you with all of the care in the world. "My hands moving just as yours are. Do ya like it, lovie?"

You manage to utter a breathless "yes" as you continue your ministrations. You can hear the grin as he continues speaking.

"I’m glad, love. Now, I want ya to close your hands as you reach your chest, let your nails dig into your skin. Not hard enough to hurt, just…enough to feel good, yeah?

You startle a bit at that, but you do as you're told anyway, and find that it actually feels kind of nice, in contrast with the barely there touches from earlier.

"You’re doin' really good. Relax into the feeling f'me, love", Butcher's voice dips into a whisper, and you can hear some movement on the other side of the line as he readjusts himself, but you pay no mind. "Slide your hands higher, higher, until ya reach your neck. Wrap your hand around your throat, darlin'. Not too hard now, don't want ya dyin' on my watch."

"Feels good", you surprise yourself when you huff out a response that wasn't even required, and you curl in on yourself in embarrassment.

He gives another soft laugh as your words. He’s enjoying this.

"Really good, lovie, well done", he cooes slightly, and you can still hear his smile. "'Want ya to imagine I’m in the room with ya, my fingers exploring whatever part of your body I want to."

And oh god, how you want that. One hand leaves your throat to wander down further south, and your body quivers in anticipation.

"Move your hands from your neck now, love", he goes on, almost as if he had sensed that you wanted to speed things up a little bit. "Move them down. Slowly. Across your chest. Down your sides again. Down to your hips. Keep 'em there."

Your fingers venture down further, slowly, and as the heat spreads across your whole body, you can feel a certain wetness building up in your panties too.

"Imagine me lips against your skin. Against your neck, your shoulders, your tits", Butcher continues, his voice still below a whisper, soft and sensual, and it's amazing how just a man's voice could make your body react so much. "Me hands running across your body, down your hips. Across the insides of your thighs, would ya like that lovie?"

You nod and bite down on your lip to refrain from letting out any embarrassing noises.

"Slide your hands lower, darlin’", he pauses for a second, and you can hear his heavy breathing and some rustling on his end. "Run 'em over your thighs, your legs."

"Does it make ya feel good, love?", his words slur together almost, and it turns into a smooth purr, his smirk still audible. "Imagining me there, me hands on your skin, me lips against your neck. Pressin' against ya, and makin' ya shudder. Makin' ya squirm beneath me. You'd probably make the cutest noises too if ya weren't so damn shy."

He lets his words hang in the air for a second, and your brain is still trying to comprehend everything that he'd just said to you. His voice goes even lower when he speaks again, continuing his gentle guidance.

"Slide your hand between your legs, darlin'. Use your other hand to touch the inside of your thigh. Move it up, slowly. Imagine it’s my touch that you’re feelin'. My hands that are makin' ya feel so good."

You reach your fingers slowly down towards the heat, and press against the wet patches on your panties. They're nearly soaked, and otherwise you'd be embarrassed by how undone you've become by just the voice of a stranger, but you can't find it in yourself as you plunge your hand into your panties.

Your fingers circle your lips, and you let your other hand trail into the wetness, rubbing gently as you focus your attention on Butcher's voice.

"Imagine my lips against your skin, tracing a line down your stomach. Where do ya want 'em t'go, lovie?", he makes a soft sound, a mixture between a moan and a grunt, as he continues to speak. He lets out a low laugh. "I'm only fuckin' with ya, I know exactly where you want them to go."

You hear his smirk widening, and you flush even more as you trace little circles around your clit as he speaks.

"Mmm, yes, love, right between your legs, I know. I'd love for ya t'know the things I’m thinking about you, the things I’d be doing to ya if I was in the room with ya right now."

You can't contain the whimper of want you emit when he says that last bit, and you're so stimulated, what with your fingers teasing your clit and his seductive voice on the phone that you can't even muster up any shame.

He chuckles, his voice almost as thick as honey as he speaks.

"Oh, ya like the sound of that, love? Imagining me in your room, on top of ya. Do you want to know what I’m thinkin' about ya right now, darlin’?"

"Mmhm", you just about manage to make out, because even though you were dead set on not uttering a single word unless you absolutely had to to prevent yourself from making a fool of yourself, you just have to know what he's on about.

Your hand works faster and faster, and you slip a finger into the warmth, pumping faster and faster as he speaks.

"I’m imaginin' ya lying on your back, darlin’. I’m on top of ya, me arms pressed against the bed, my body against yours", He lowers his voice to almost a whisper, the smirk on his face audible in his words.

"Imagine I’m on my knees, love, right in front of you, between your legs, me face in front of your hips", your breath stutters as your hand continues to work, maintaining speed and you can feel yourself nearing climax. "Ya want to know some of the things I’m thinkin', darlin’?"

You whimper again, and Butcher takes that as an affirmative.

He laughs again, moving the receiver away as he lets out a chuckle before returning to the low, soft voice. He’s getting much more into this now, his own excitement starting to show in his words. The words are so low that they almost melt together like the sofy purr of an engine.

"I want to taste ya, love. The image of your body, of being so close to ya, it’s driving me bloody mental", he grins, you can hear it in the way he speaks. "I’m thinkin' about how good you’d taste, lovie, how bad I want to taste ya all over. How badly I want to run my tongue over your body, how much I want to make ya moan."

The heat becomes unbearable as you continue to rub your clit in erratic circular motions, and finger yourself.

Nearly there.

"Christ, the things I'd do to ya if I was there", a low laugh escapes his mouth, "you know what my hand is doing right now, love?"

So close, so close.

"And y'know what? If I had ya, pliant and obedient underneath me, I'd lick a fat stripe up your cunt and eat you out like a starving man"

Oh my fucking god.

You let out a moan as you climax, and you hear Butcher grunt in unison. Your vision is a mixture of hot white and blurriness. Your chest heaves as you pant, trying to catch your breath, and your fingers cramp up as you pull them away from the warm, sticky mess that once were your panties.

You hear Butcher moving on the other side of the phone.

"Well, thanks for the wank, lovie, pleasure doin' business with you", Butcher's voice is low, a bit more hoarse now than when the phone call had started, but the smug undertone is still there. "Don't worry 'bout payin', it's on the house since it was so enjoyable for me too."

Your cheeks heat up again as you hear his deep voice chuckle. You can't help but feel a twinge of bittersweetness now that the moment is over, but it's overcome by relief and a warm tiredness that makes your eyelids heavy.

"I hope your little problem is fixed now, darlin'. Call back again sometime, and ask for Butcher."

He hangs up, and you're stuck in your bed wondering how many times is deemed acceptable to ring a phone sex hotline in a week.

[soulofapatrick]

Expect The Unexpected - Kol Mikaelson x Reader

Summary: Kol saves you from a creep and it leads somewhere you never expected

Words: 3k

Warning; creepy stalker; think that's it

Notes: Had to write some Kol but I will be writing more Joel and Tommy Miller tomorrow x

Y/N’s POV 

I step out of the restaurant, having said my goodbyes to Caroline and Elena, wanting to just get home and collapse into bed as my social batteries are on zero. It’s late and the streets are deserted except for a few people walking their dogs or heading home from the bars as it is Friday night. It’s a beautiful night with a full moon illuminating the sky and I can’t help but enjoy the quietness of it all as I begin the walk home. 

Footsteps can be heard behind me but when I turn there’s no one there. I think being around vampires a lot I’m starting to go insane as they’re always sneaking up on me, making me paranoid all the time as Damon loves to scare the shit out of me. The footsteps are getting louder and an uneasy feeling settles in my chest. This isn’t any of the vampires I know. No, when I glance over my shoulder my heart skips a beat in fear as there’s a man in a hoodie walking a few feet behind me. He’s staring at me with a creepy smile, eyes intense on mine like he’s undressing me with his gaze and I start to feel a little sick. I could yell for any of my supernatural friends knowing they’re hear me and be here in seconds but that feels like I’m weak, being human and all that. 

I shake my head and continue walking, heart pounding in my chest, as of course this shit happens to me. Not wanting to admit defeat and call I remember the short alleyway nearby that would take me to Stefan and Damon’s, much closer than mine so I hurry my pace. The footsteps behind me seem to get even louder, like he’s right behind me and my uneasiness turns to fear as I turn left down the alleyway, hoping to lose him in the maze of building. My luck isn’t that good as I glance behind me again see him still following, leering and I can hear his breath, ragged and heavy, like he’s running. Fuck’s sake! I break into a sprint, my feet pounding the pavement, my breath coming in short gasps and as much as I’m used to running for my life I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this pace up with him not too far behind me. 

That’s when I collide with something solid and familiar, strong hands flying to my shoulders to steady me. The scent of something earthy mixed with spice and leather and something sweeter like cinnamon has me relaxing and the panicked tears begin slipping down my cheeks, knowing I’m safe. 

“Hey lovely, what’s wrong?” That familiar British accent asks and I’m finally looking up to see Kol, his concerned face mere inches from me. The proximity has my breath hitching despite how scared and panicked I feel, words catching in my throat as I gesture behind me to where the creep is still visible and still making his way closer. Kol’s face hardens as he realises what’s happening and he steps in front of me, “He’s not going to touch you love. Look away please.” 

I’m doing as he says, closing my eyes and feeling a familiar gust of wind as Kol uses his vampire speed. There’s the sound of a neck snapping, unmistakable in its finality, and then Kol’s hands are on my face, his voice soft, “You’re safe now.” I open my eyes, my back to the body and Kol’s gaze is gentle and protective, his thumbs caressing my cheeks as his cognac eyes scan me over as if checking for any injuries and finding none. I try to thank him but my voice is still too shaky so I do the next best thing, surging forwards and wrapping my arms around the original vampire, catching him off guard. 

Kol’s arms eventually wrap around me in return, strong and secure and I feel so safe in his embrace. His chest is firm against mine and I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to feel a heartbeat under my ear. I’m burying my face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent of earthy spice and leather and I can feel a sense of calm wash over me. His embrace is warm and protective, like he’s shielding me against the word and I know something about the way I feel for him has changed. He’s no longer the wild Mikaelson who keeps trying to kill Matt and has caused Elena and Jeremy so many problems. No, he’s something more to me as I cling onto him, not wanting to let go as he hand strokes my hair soothingly and he’s whispering, “Come on sweetheart, let’s get you home.” 

Reluctantly I’m letting him go, suddenly feeling empty and the cold hits me despite my thick jeans and fluffy sweater. A small gasp leaving me when Kol places his leather jacket over my shoulders and he’s flashing me a somewhat shy smile before he holds his arm out for me like a true gentleman. I take his arm, feeling a flutter in my chest as we start the walk back to mine, his jacket warm and comforting around me. The night air is chilly but Kol’s presence makes it bearable, his steps confident and sure as we navigate through the dark streets. I’m stealing glances at him from time to time, admiring the way his features are chiselled and sharp in the moonlight, his eyes are like pools of molten gold. 

We’re arriving at my door too soon and I feel a sense of disappointment, not wanting him to leave me but I’m too awkward and shy to say it outright so I just let his arm go so I can fumble for my keys, Kol’s eyes on me the whole time and watching my every move as I swing my door open. I’m turning back to face him, the words slipping from my lips in a scared whisper, barely audible, “Don’t leave me.” 

His vampire hearing don’t miss a syllable as he’s taking a step closer, hand coming up to cup my face as he speaks softly, “I won’t leave you, love.” There’s something in the way he says it and the way those eyes flit across my face, lingering on my lips for a second or two longer than normal that has my heart fluttering and the soft smirk on his face lets me know he hears it. It’s a little unnerving seeing this soft and gentle side of Kol as he’s usually ruthless and manipulative but there’s nothing but genuine concern in his gaze as he speaks again, “Why don’t I stay the night?” 

“Please.” It comes out breathy and I swear his eyes darken a little, sending my heart fluttering crazily in my chest, his hand not having left my face yet. Neither of us seem to want to move apart enough to go inside despite the chill that’s seeping its way past Kol’s jacket. 

That playful smirk slips onto his face as he leans in, warm breath ghosting over my cheek as he whispers, “Don’t worry love. I’ll keep you warm.” And with that he’s taking my hand and going to step inside when he seems to hit a barrier. Oh! Vampires can’t enter without being invited in but I’m giggling too much to be able to welcome him in, the way he stands with his hands on his hips and eyebrows raised with an amused look on his face as he waits. It takes a moment or two to compose myself enough to invite him, gesturing for him to enter as I say, “Come on in Kol.” 

He strides in with easy confidence, eyes flickering around the room as he takes in his surroundings. I follow him, feeling a strange mix of excitement and apprehension as this is the first time a vampire has been inside my house and I don’t really know what to expect as I’ve always gone to their places. But this Is Kol, it feels different somehow. He’s not like any other vampire I know. I’ve heard stories of how ruthless and selfish Kol can be but it’s a little hard to picture it while he’s moving around my living room, taking it all in with an innocent curiosity. I can’t help the twinge of nervousness as I hang up his jacket and toe my shoes off by the front door after closing it behind us. 

“Are you tired sweetheart?” Kol’s asking, eyes softer in the light of small lamp by the sofa. I’m shaking my head, trying to shake off the nerves as I move to sit on my sofa, patting the spot next to me which he takes without a question, turning his body towards me, “You’re nervous?” 

“I’ve heard so much about you and…” I take a deep breath, Kol not saying a word to let me finish talking but I can see the way his face falls a little, expecting me to say something bad, so I reach over and cup his face in my hand. His stubble grazing my palm as I speak, “But I’m not sure I believe it all.” 

He’s shifting closer, face suddenly very close to mine as he asks, “You don’t?” His face is so open and innocent the air leaves my lungs and I’m shaking my head, caressing his cheek softly as I marvel at how soft his skin is below my hand, “Do you trust me?”

“Y-yes.” My voice is breathy whisper and his hands are gripping the back of my thighs, pulling me onto his lap in smooth movement. My heart races as I straddle him, but I’m not sure it actually has stopped racing since he found me, his eyes never leaving mine as he pulls me closer, lips hovering just inches from mine. He lets out a barely there ‘good’, breath warm against my skin before he’s closing the distance between us, lips meeting mine in a soft and tender kiss that has shivers running down my spine. It’s like electricity between us, the way our bodies press together, his arms holding me close as we explore each other’s lips. I’m lost in the moment, all my fears and worries melting away as Kol’s lips move expertly against mine, hands roaming over my back under my sweater. 

I take a risk and run my tongue against his bottom lip, feeling him smile into the kiss but he’s parting his lips for me. My fingers find their way into his hair, pulling him closer and hearing him moaning softly as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands are slipping lower, cupping my backside and pulling my hips flush against his so I can feel how hard he is beneath me and the a thrill of excitement rushes through me but I’m having to break the kiss. 

Kol’s shifting our weight, laying me back on the couch and leaning over me. He’s kissing me breathless again, lips soft yet demanding and the gentle drag of his fingertips down my sides under my sweater has arousal pooling between my legs. I don’t want this to end but he’s pulling away too soon, eyes intense as he takes me in, leaning on his elbows and hand brushing over my cheek lovingly. 

“As much as I want to do this, I want to do right by you love.” He says, voice low and husky, “I don’t wan to take advantage of you lovely, we should head to bed and we can talk everything through in the morning.” His words both reassuring and disappointing but I know he’s right. I’m nodding, leaning into his touch and kissing his palm before letting him climb off of me and help me to my feet so I can lead the way to the bedroom. He’s tugging on my arm lightly, “I can sleep on the couch-“ I’m gripping the front of his shirt and yanking him into another kiss, silencing his stupidity and feeling him smile into it as he reciprocates before we’re parting. His arms still wrapped around me, “Okay then lead the way love.” Kol nods, tone lace with a hint of mischief as she squeezes my arse. 

I can’t help but laugh as I lead him to the bedroom, feeling a warmth spread through me at the thought of having Kol in my bed. I’m quick to kick my jeans off and slip into a loose teeshirt with my back to Kol while I slip out of my bra before I’m practically diving into the bed. The original vampire knows exactly what he’s doing when he takes his time with every layer of clothing. 

As he unbuttons his shirt, I’m mesmerised by the muscles in his chest and arms, wondering what every dip and ridge would feel like under my tongue. The fabric of his shirt slides off his shoulders to reveal the smooth skin of his back and my fingers are itching to tee the contours of his muscles and I notice the freckles dotted over his back. Then he’s hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and slides them down his hips, showing a tantalising silver of skin. My eyes drink in the sight of his toned legs and the way his boxers cling to his hips. When he turns to face me I can’t help but let out a soft gasp at the sight of his chiselled abs and defied chest. 

Kol catches my gaze and smirks, clearly aware of the effects he’s having on me and I can feel my face flush as he crawls into the bed with me. His lips finding my neck and he’s biting a hickey just below my jaw, drawing a soft sound from me before he’s kissing the slight sting better then pulling us down. I let him manhandle me so we’re cuddling closely. His warm skin against mine as he wraps an arm around my waist and nuzzles into my hair. The feel of his body against mine is intoxicating and I can feel my heart rate picking up as I snuggle closer to him, content with laying here with him and feeling his fingers trace lazy patterns over my skin until I’m drifting off. 

*

I’m awoken by the bedroom door flying open and Caroline’s familiar voice breaks through the haze of sleep as I groggily open my eyes to see her standing in the bedroom doorway, eyes bugging out of her head as she exclaims, “Kol?! Why the hell is Kol in your bed?” Her voice laced with disbelief and annoyance. I know it’s not annoyance towards me personally, she’s just having a bad time with her feelings for Klaus now so I guess seeing me with Klaus’ younger brother isn’t helping her case. 

Before I can even respond Kol is groaning softly, moving so he’s wrapping his arms around my waist and nose nuzzling against the skin of the back of my neck as a pillow is aimed in Caroline’s direction, “Piss off Caroline.” 

She looks angry, that familiar and well known Caroline glare slipping onto her face and I can hear her heels clicking on the floor before the duvet is yanked off of us as she snap, “No. Up, now.” I’m groaning as the cool air hits my skin and I can feel Kol shifting behind me, grumbling something incoherent under his breath. Caroline is still standing there, arms crossed over her chest as he taps her foot impatiently and I can feel the tension I the room as Kol reluctantly detangles himself from me and drags himself into a sitting position. 

“Can you give us a damn minute. Close the bedroom door and Y/N will be out in a moment.” Kol steels her with a glare which Caroline rivals before her eyes flit to me when I place a gentle hand on her arm. She’s hesitating until I send her a reassuring smile, silently thanking her for looking out for me but also silently begging her to leave us alone. She lets out a small huff, glancing between me and Kol before turning on her heels and leaving the room but not without letting the bedroom door slam behind her as she goes to wait in the living room. 

Kol is flopping back down, hands finding their way to my hips to pull me onto his lap so I’m straddling before those oh so gentle hands trail up my sides until he’s cupping my cheeks, thumb rubbing across my bottom lip softly as he asks, “You don’t regret this?” 

“Oh hell no.” I chuckle softly before leaning down and kissing him, gasping when he rolls us over so I’m under his strong body, one of his hands splayed on my thigh as he guides me to wrap that leg wrap around his waist as he deeps the kiss. It’s not fuelled by lust or passion, just sweet and loving, each movement of our lips and the way our tongues dance together a declaration of our feels for each other. Kol’s hands trail up my sides, caressing every inch of skin as he pours all his emotions into the kiss until we have to pull back. I think any oxygen left in my lungs leaves me when I meet his gaze, so much love in his eyes. I know the future is uncertain and that there are definitely going to be obstacles in our way but I don’t care for any of that. As long as Kol keeps looking at me the way he is, I would walk through fire for him. 

“Barbie awaits, love. I should let you go talk to her before she stakes me.” 

“Yes! Yes I will!” 

-------------

Vampire Diaries Universe Masterlist

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[howtotrainabraincell]

Head cannon bc I can - The Assassin's belief in spooky stuff

A/N: In 3-month pre-honor of Spooky time (which is the best time) I'm gonna write a drabble about how I think certain assassin's would react to spooky stuff like ghosts, wendigos, vampires, etc. Thought it would be funny.

Ezio Auditore - He grew up religious so probably has that faith over fear mindset despite what he believes later on in life through being an assassin/meeting the garden tool known as juno (who doesn't get her name capitalized bc I don't like her lol). I mean exhibit A: This Florentine man just jumps off of a very high building and nails a superhero landing. The FAITH that this man had in his KNEECAPS to NOT SHATTER over the FEAR of his (very nice) legs snapping in half like pocky sticks. I mean COME.ONNNN. WILL LEGIT PERFORM AN EXORCISM IF HE GETS SPOOKED. He'll speak in Latin reciting Bible verses, he'll bust out the Holy Water and get the rosary, the whole shebang. He thinks that vampires are lowkey cheesy but is flattered when people think that he's one (because of the sexy factor around the bloodsuckers ya know) because they think he's HAWT. Wendigos freak him out because WHY DO THEY MOVE SO FAST?! He also does NOT mess with ouija boards and refuses to even be in the same room as one, cause the man's not trying to have the dang spirits of the borgias come after him again (cesare was annoying enough the first time, okay?). Werewolves? He's indifferent to. He likes dogs, he likes people (MOST of them), so long they don't bite him (too hard *wink wink*) that's all he cares about.

Altair Ibn La'Ahad - Vampires? Meh. They better stay away from him and his love or they'll get a fang omelet. Werewolves? So long as they don't have fleas or parasites, he doesn't see them as a problem. Altair does NOT believe in ghosts, and he is NOT amused when the others try to scare him and make him paranoid of the "other side" ooooo. He thinks it's all bullshlatta haha. However, when he's been smoking hashish...it's a different story. This cannabis product has a THC concentration of 5-15% so man is getting into the kite territory lol. He WILL get paranoid, and he WILL think that ghosts are on the front lawn PARTICULARLY the ghosts of French and English soldiers that he's fought. Will go get his love if she's there and pull her into his lap muttering in Arabic about "Stupid ghosts of the fallen. Not touching my woman." He'll beat Jacob's ass for moving the ouija board around and scaring the others but mostly because he didn't see Jacob, he just saw a big black blob coming at him and swung. He will also once again beat Jacob's ass for trying to scare him while pretending to be a ghost wrapped up in a bedsheet. Just picture him trying to strangle the poor top hat wearing British boy while Desmond and Evie try to talk him down and Altair's love gently tries to pry him off.

Love: (laughing softly as she pulls at his arms) Altair Habibi don't hurt him it was just a prank.

Altair: (yelling in Arabic) He's a ghost! I don't need any more of them in my life!

Desmond: Guys come on don't fight again.

Evie: (trying not to laugh) Uhh Mentor if you could kindly not strangle my dear brother to death, I would be grateful.

Ratonhnhake:ton/Connor Kenway - Being Native American he has been privy to myths and legends of mysterious beasts and malevolent spirits. The one that freaked him out the most as a little boy however was the myth about the wendigo. A myth that one if his tribe's elders had picked up from an Algonquian traveler passing through Boston. An insatiable beast created from humans and the hunger felt by them in desperate times with little to no food. He has heard multiple legends ranging from the spirit possessing those who are without food and influencing them to consume their fellow humans in cannibalistic practices, to the wendigo being a demon that possesses people for unknown reasons. How the beast is allegedly 15 feet tall, can wind walk, is extremely intelligent, and stores it's victims for food storage eating them at its leisure. But imo he's not afraid of them because think about. Connor vs a wendigo? I feel sorry for that wendigo lol. Man has fought bears, cougars, mountain lions, defied gravity, taken on an entire army and held up the middle finger to cannonballs meant to send him to his Maker. Requiescat In Pace to that wendigo haha. Vampires are lame to him he does not see the appeal, but he does find their teeth funny. (He has been exposed to a wide variety of different teeth via animals that he's hunted, but creatures that look human who have teeth like animals is funny to him).

Jacob Frye - Tell.me.WHY I just KNOW that Jacob would so totally take out the ouija board and put it in random places to scare the others lol. This would lead to Evie playing detective and staying up all night to find out what was going on, only to find that her baby brother is trolling everyone. Needless to say, Jacob's ears get boxed. He likes to play around and goof off about ghosts lurking about, but being serious he does not believe in them. Nor does he believe in contact with those who are passed on. He thinks that a place can carry bad things that have happened there, and the aura can be off, he believes the same with people as well. He could sense Starrick's craziness all the way in Crawley... It goes without saying that Jacob DEFINITELY believes in mental illness. He'd probably try to fight a werewolf to test his strength. And a vampire too. Would also probably carry treats for werewolves if he knew any and give it to them in their wolf form lol. Once the fight commences (and his inevitable loss follows) Jacob would ABSOLUTELY try to recruit them into the Rooks. He could use as many members as possible to say nothing of those with supernatural abilities. Would TOTALLY flip his flat cap over a vampire's ability to heal quickly. Like he would pull his signature Frye arm break and the vampire's arm would just *pop!* right back into place. He would lowkey be jealous because if he could do that think about how many fights he could win!

Evie Frye - DEFINITELY think that she would wonder if vampires were out there and she would be SO EXCITED if she met one. She would want to pick their brain about their experiences and hear the stories of however many lifetimes they have lived. In the game she is somewhat interested in the other side and the occult so she might dip her toes into the crystal ball and ouija board territory. She does it maybe once or twice and then quite because she doesn't get results from it (plus Jacob won't stop playing with the planchette piece using it as a monocle). She didn't like the ouija board because the rules of "Don't play alone" both annoyed her and made her weary. She would rather play alone due to the nature of serious questions she would ask about the afterlife (I honestly kinda think that she might try to make contact with her father through the ouija board but would be deterred when she heard that it could possibly be demons instead of her loved one). She's not really superstitious but she does take rules (within reason) seriously (and she tries not to break them if Jacob can behave himself lol). She has contacts everywhere and then some so hearing things through the grapevine she eventually hears the good old "things can get attached to you and follow you around" when messing around with supernatural things. This made her completely drop contacting the other side because this poor woman is already harassed by and followed by Blighters and Templars 24/7 365, okay? She doesn't need any ghosties or demons following her too. She finds the concept of the wendigo fascinating but has no plans to hunt one (unlike Jacob). The idea of werewolves makes her cringe because while she likes dogs the hearsay about werewolves having painful bone breaking transitions from human to wolf, disturbs her and fills her with sympathy for anyone who is one.

Arno Dorian - Ghosts? What ghosts? You mean the ones that haunt him on a daily basis? The ones that haunt him in his dreams? The ghosts of choices he didn't make, mistakes he made and regrets he has? Arno isn't afraid of ghosts. Not at all. Is interested in the anatomy of werewolves but is concerned about if they have parasites and fleas. (It is my own personal cannon that after the events of Unity a stray cat started harassing him like "Hey drunk sad human feed me". Eventually this led to Arno adopting the little furball). He thinks that wendigos are nothing special because they just remind him of customers at the Cafe Theatre hopped up on caffeine, he just stands there and is like "Madame/Monsieur calme-toi. Vous faites une scene." (Calm down. You're making a scene.) Doesn't put much stock in mummies but he is fascinated by the history of Ancient Egypt and their burial practices, he admires how so much care was put into their final goodbyes. People do in fact think that he is a vampire because look at him...I'll wait...enough said. He has the timeless sexiness of a vampire not to mention it just...suits him? He finds it amusing nonetheless and is actually flattered to be considered a "seductive master of the night". Werewolves he would just give them treats from the Cafe in hopes that they wouldn't bite him (Mademoiselle Whiskers - his cannon kitty - love bites him enough lol).

Bayek of Siwa - Somewhat accustomed to ghosts actually seeing as he is well acquainted with the Duat and members of the dead. He does take them there and deliver them to Anubis after all. Not afraid of them but does not want them to invade his personal life especially if they're the ghosts of the members of the order. (Man fought so hard to kill them all and then he might have to deal with them haunting him? No thank you. He's had enough.) CAN and WILL knock a vampires fangs out of their head if one ever tried to bite him because one: RUDE and two: he's not trying to catch immortality. He wants to go to the afterlife one day and I think we all know why. But besides that, he also has almost been bitten on numerous occasions by snakes, hippos, crocodiles, and even hyenas. Senu has NEVER bitten him (I refuse to believe that she even gives him love bites just lots of wing hugs, beak nuzzles, and she sees him as the sweet baby that he is so she cleans him like one lol). He gets a kick out of hollywood mummies and actually likes Boris Karloff in The Mummy, but all of the powers and curses and people being terrified of a dead body wrapped in linen strips gives him a little chuckle. He finds it quite silly to be honest. This man sees werewolves as big dogs and would probably befriend all of them because he seems like EXACTLY the type of man who has THE GIFT (aka the talent to befriend all animals). Man is a certified Egyptian Disney princess that Disney has denied us.

Desmond Miles - Man LOVES 80's horror change my mind but he does. That and 80's music so I'm not convinced that he'll scare easy. Not to mention the kind of life he lives as an assassin being in constant danger and living in paranoia with a lovely sauce of constantly looking over his shoulder (this poor baby I swear). Werewolves are cool to him because he loves dogs. Have a feeling that when Halloween rolls around, he busts out the old classics such as The Wolf Man with Lon Chaney (The Birds, Dracula, Abbott and Costello, etc). Vampires are cheesy but don't you DARE tell me that this man has not attempted to do the Dracula accent because he HAS. He's probably even binged vampire diaries (well what he could before ubisoft pulled a bitch move) and it's possible that he's even dressed up as a vampire too lol. His girlfriend lost her mind when he tried to kiss her with fake fangs in but they fell off making him a one toothed vampire lol. Ghosts aren't scary too him at all I mean...have you seen what he went through with the Bleeding Effect? Ain't no way he's phased by ANY kind of ghost that tries to do a little spooky brew haha to him. He'll just stand there exhausted with a cup of coffee as one tries to scare him and be like: "Great. What else is new?" Depending on which ancestor of his he's bleeding through the Bleeding Effect his reactions are a mixture of his own Desmond reaction and whoever he's bleeding.

[ozzgin]

hey beaut, can i request a yan ben drowned ticci toby nd ej with a chavvy reader from england ? like first impressions and their dynamic,, thank yuuu xxx

What a quirky request, haha. Very unexpected. I’ll let you know that I’m not too familiar with this stereotype, but I’ve seen a fair amount of social media examples, so hopefully it’s at least a little bit authentic.

Yandere! Creepypasta x Chav! Reader

Featuring Ticci-Toby, Ben Drowned and Eyeless Jack with a British chav reader that wins their hearts.

Ticci-Toby

He wouldn’t call it downright stalking, but Ticci-Toby has been observing you for a while now. Sometimes from afar, sometimes from a closer distance (such as your bedroom window), but his presence has always been concealed nonetheless. After thorough consideration he decides to approach you. You’re standing at the bus stop in your squeaky puffer jacket when you notice the pale stranger in unusual garments. You nervously chew on your gum and clutch your bag before finally speaking up. “What’re you staring at, luv?” His eyes immediately light up. Did you… did you just call him love?

Needles to say he’s over the moon. Only later does it occur to you that he doesn’t seem to grasp common slang, nor metaphorical talks for that matter. He takes things quite literally and you have to consider your wording before opening your mouth. That doesn’t stop you, however, from having a response ready at all times. That’s what Ticci-Toby really likes about you, you’re always there to ground him. It’s your raspy, mildly annoyed voice that snaps him out of his terrible paranoid episodes. He’s come to cherish the awakening “Are you mental, mate?”

He finds hanging out with you very comforting. In fact, both of you have started this little ritual of him draining his chatty moods while you sit in front of a mirror and do your makeup, interjecting every now and then with a little feedback. He gets to empty his brain of all the erratic thoughts and simultaneously admire your appearance. You’re perfect. For him, particularly.

Ben Drowned

Once again you’re woken up by the loud static in the living room. You drag your legs over to the TV with a knackered groan and slap the remote. Your ex partner had forgotten their video game at your place and ever since you’ve been getting outlandish messages and images stuck on the screen. Who would even play this? Did the game somehow mess up with your TV? This time it won’t turn off despite your attempts. The screen is frozen and you can make out a faded, pixelated text plastered in the corner: “It’s lonely here. Would you join me?”

Ben is fascinated by you and has been so ever since he’s been brought to this place. The forgotten video game was not unintentional: Ben had a fair amount of amusement from haunting your partner, and in a moment of despair they hoped relocating this cursed item would put the focus on someone else, like you. Although you’re rather oblivious to his scare tactics. This time is no different, but now he’s no longer interested in terrorizing you. Quite the opposite. How would you respond to his flustered confessions?

Being with Ben is a surreal experience, given that he can switch between the physical and digital realm with ease. He enjoys teasing you and lately he’s been cheeky in different ways, such as engaging in playful banter regarding your style and accent. It’s all in good fun and you do enjoy his humor. Though you wish he’d skip the riddles that only confuse you most of the time, or the sudden disappearances.

Eyeless Jack

Despite your repeated promises to yourself that you won’t go overboard with drinking ever again, here you are blacked out after a particularly lively party. To your defense, you didn’t expect to be woken up by some bizarre creature, and similarly it seems the man didn’t anticipate you’d be shaken out of your intoxicated state. You can see the glistening of a sharp tool in his hand and instantly sober up.

Both of you are stuck, contemplating the next move. Should Jack just kill you now? If he’s fast enough, you won’t have time to scream for too long. Then again, he does take pride in his silent surgical extractions. A messy fight would just go against his purpose. Your nostrils expand as they begin to accommodate to his presence. You sniff loudly a few times and gag involuntarily. Something stinks. “It’s you. You smell so shabby!” you exclaim and abruptly get up, reaching for your handbag that had been abandoned next to your bed earlier. You aggressively rustle its contents until you finally pull out a Victoria’s Secret perfume bottle. Satisfied, you begin spraying around the hooded man. He can only stare at you, speechless. “I cannot!” you keep repeating in disbelief.

Jack had snuck into your apartment hoping to leave with a fresh kidney and instead ended up perfumed and insulted by a drunken character. It’s this shameless unpredictability that has gotten him hopelessly interested in you. He loves to see your reactions and finds you greatly entertaining. On your end, you find him a proper, quirky lad, although a bit of a nutter. You’re also getting better at tolerating his intense odor that reminds you of black pudding. On one occasion Jack has offered to share his grisly nightly hunts with you, but you casually refused because you’ve got to stay snatched.

[tears0f0ri0n]

Listening to Malevolent gives me a Jonathan Sims mindset.

"Who is that?" "I don't trust them." "They're out to get you."

I'm so paranoid about this funky little british man-

[massivetittiesandwarcrimes]

Since Clark is from the midwest, do you guys think he's ever brought puppy chow to the watchtower as a gift during the holidays or snack for parties or something, and just thoroughly confused 90% of his friends?

I mean, just picture Batman - Bruce Wayne, ultra-wealthy nepo baby from New Jersey raised by a British man - being presented with a bag of something called puppy chow by an excited and smiling Superman, and just... Having no idea how to respond.

Does he think Superman is an alien who is new to Earth, and has somehow confused animal food with human food? Or if he does know who Clark is, does he think this is some kind of joke; it's not his usual approach, but if Bruce had pissed him off lately I could see Batman being paranoid and thinking Clark is trying to use the alien excuse as a way to make him eat dog food as some kind of punishment.

Even most of the human born metas would probably be a little bit confused, because it very much is a Midwestern thing, and the comics are constantly moving the different cities around, so as far as I am aware, Clark Kent is the only superhero guaranteed to have grown up in the Midwest.

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Christmas fic please?

☺️

The Blue Hour This is somewhat of a sequel to my other 18th-century fics 'When the Heart is Full the Tongue Will Speak" and "The Prison Ship," but it also stands alone. Valley Forge was arguably the worst winter of the war. Alfred's having a bad time. Matt tries to help. He has something for Alfred. This was supposed to be longer, but I had to say fuck it and put it in the queue, or it wasn't happening, so I'm so sorry for inflicting it on you. Apple pie reference is from the HC that Alfred's pie recipe comes from a nice Pennsylvania Quaker lady who took him in in the late 17th century when he was little after the Massachusetts witch crazes. This isn't a happy fic, but it is deeply loving. Also on ao3

Valley Forge, Christmas 1777

Alfred’s legs didn’t feel quite real as he approached the clearing. It was silent here. No animals. No people, either. Even the last chickadees, so faithful through the winter, had disappeared behind him as the previous winter sun faded from a depressing grey to pitch dark. He was a bit numb and more paranoid as he rounded a copse of trees and found himself staring at a pristine clearing. He recognized this house, grey stone with a heavy slate roof. There was no glass in the windows, but cheery, flickering firelight escaped through whatever slight cracks there were in the shutters. He hefted his rifle, bayonet attached, closer and approached, wary. The forest held its breath, and the fire crackling became louder as he approached. There was smoke from the chimney but no shadows of movement inside. He gripped his rifle. He should go home to his haphazard tar paper and log shack, but it was dark now, and Valley Forge was 30 miles behind.

He pushed open the door with a bang, rifle to his shoulder, and heard a surprised shout. A figure twisted, axe in hand, poised to hook it into Alfred’s neck and remove an arm at the shoulder like a branch from a trunk. Then, a note of laughter, and he was embraced.

Warmth hit him. First, Matt’s entire body was warm, and his clothes were fire-toasty. Then the smell of roasting meat floated, so solid it was almost visible, into his senses. Then, dizziness. Dizziness struck like a blow to the head. Alfred might have passed out on the floor if Matt hadn’t already had his arms around him.

Matt squeezed with more strength than Alfred had ever known his baby brother to have. The rifle was tugged from his hands, and he was suddenly sitting, sodden clothes and boots pulled off, feet stretched towards the fire. He might have vomited if he wasn’t so hallowed out. Matt was gone for only a moment, but Alfred grabbed a hold of him as soon as he was back.

“Have you changed your mind?” He grasped Matt’s sleeve with a shaking hand. “Did you come to your senses?”

“Have you?” Matt said, derisive even as he pressed a mug into Alfred’s hands. “Drink that, and the world will stop spinning.”

“Matthew---” He didn’t let go of Matt’s sleeve. “You haven’t come to—.”

“Bend the knee?” Matthew’s eyes flashed, and Alfred was all too aware of the axe on his belt and the rifle against the wall. “No. I’m not.”

“What are you doing here then?” He let Matt go and sipped on the contents of the mug—broth, salty and rich beyond belief. Matt was right. The world did stop spinning.

“It’s Christmas.”

“Is it?”

“It is,” Matt said with a watery smile. “I take it you got my note.”

“Pie at sundown,” Alfred recalled. “I got it. I could hardly believed you remembered that.”

“First apple pie you ever made me. I’ll remember it til the sun goes dark.” Matt was before him with a blanket and a stack of clothes. “Finish drinking that, put these on and then we’ll talk.”

They were his own clothes, what he’d left in the chest of drawers in Boston after he’d slipped his guards and disappeared across the border and into Quebec. He wanted to toss them back. They were the clothes of a crown subject, a boy with a British boot on his neck. Not the free man he wanted to be. That he was, but he hadn’t had a fresh shirt since his baby brother had dragged his corpse out of his shallow grave on the Hudson. He could wash it as often as he liked, but the linen was still wearing thin. His former things were practically new, the linen fresh and clean, the wool still warm. Alfred ran a hand over the fabric, still so chilled he hardly considered his pride as Matt turned away to tend to the bird slowly roasting over the fire and dressed. He glanced over his shoulder when Alfred slipped the shirt over his head. There hadn’t been a mirror to look at himself in months, and he didn’t want to. He knew his ribs were stark; he could feel them. Matt looked that kind of devastated that, if he hadn’t turned away, might have made Alfred cry.

“Have you had a decent meal since I saw you?” He didn’t look over his shoulder again until the shirt was over his head, and he’d buttoned the blue waistcoat over his chest. Everything was so ill-fitting now.

Alfred ignored him. “Does Father know you’re here?”

Matthew snorted. “It’s Christmas; he’s so deep into the officer’s nog when I left he won’t realize I’ve gone unless I’m not there for epiphany morning with tea going. So I shot a turkey and pissed off south to find you. Looks like its a good thing I did too.”

“I’m fine.” Alfred scowled. “There’s a camp of thousands of men 2 miles from here with nothing but rice and vinegar for Christmas dinner. Next to them, I’m all right.”

“I’m sorry,” Matt said, and it damn well looked like he meant it, narrow shoulders bowed as he sat heavily onto one of the overturned logs he obviously meant to use as a kitchen chair for the occasion.

“You could feed a lot of people if you stayed. You’re a good hunter.”

“Don’t,” Matt said. “We’ve had this conversation. Look at you. You know I wouldn’t survive another war like this. You’re kissed by God himself and you look like death.”

“It’s not so bad.”

“Rice and vinegar, eh? Yeah well. Try some turkey and see if it compares.”

“Why do you keep coming to see me if you won’t pick a side, Matt? You’re committing treason and you know it.”

“You’re my brother.”

His shrug was simple, unemotional. The sky was up, the Earth was down, the snow was cold, and Matt would haul and shoot a turkey and walk four days just to sneak him a decent meal. He teared up. Maybe it was the cold, the deprivation or just how much he missed home and heart and heart. Throat working, shoulders shaking even if he wasn’t crying, he grabbed Matt by the shoulders and squeezed for a third time, kissing him on the forehead about a dozen times and just feeling something so desperately affectionate he had to ride it out like dizziness.

“I missed you.” He said.

“You too.” Matt had clamped himself around Alfred, playing as if he just held on; he wouldn’t feel how much weight he’d dropped since summer. After a long moment, he made Alfred sit on one of the logs and tossed the rucksack while he struck flint and steel and put tinder to kindling. “Have you been sick? You look terrible,”

“Everyone is.” He said. There was no point in hiding it. “You know what it’s like. A moving army is a healthy army. A camped army is a sick army.”

“Why do you think I like the woods so much? I could run from the British as easily as from the typhus.”

“Yeah, well, they’re my people. I can’t leave them.”

“Do you have scurvy yet?”

“Gettering there.” He poked his tongue at his teeth. He had all of them, but he was always so tired. It couldn’t be far away.

Matt pivoted and took an orange in each hand, shoving them at Alfred. “Father... he’s in the habit of buying two.”

“I can’t take these!”

“Think of them as reparations.”

“Won’t you get scurvy?’

“I get lime juice twice a day. Just take anything you want out of my pack and eat it. Take the rest tomorrow. I’ll get a rabbit on my way back if I get hungry.”

“Why do you have to go back?”

“Stop asking me that. Pick something for me to make out of what’s in there, all right? Anything you want tonight, and you can take the rest tomorrow.”

“I want you to stay.”

Matt leaned against the wall by the hearth, arms crossed. “And I don’t want to die. So stop asking. That’s the agreement. Stay alive. Not stay with you.”

“You should be my right hand. It should be me and you against the world.”

“You’re the one fighting with the world, Alfred. I already have. I lost. Pick a vegetable, eat an orange, have some wine and stop trying to sentence me to death because you’re lonely again.”

He was tearing up, and so was Alfred. They looked away from each other, and Alfred went to the pack.

He opened food like he had once opened pewter inkwells at the apothecaries, looking for the blue ink he liked better than the quickly fading walnut; there were cranberries, potatoes, apples, stalks of celery, onions, cabbage, carrots, mushrooms, honey cakes, tea, coffee, a jug of wassail and a smaller bottle of Madeira. Smaller quantities of sugar, flour, oats, rice, raisins and rye. There were more of his clothes that he hadn’t taken when he’d fled Boston nearly two years prior. And under all that, a length of blue cloth with shining brass buttons. 

“Mattie.... What is that coat?” 

His brother froze. He’d been dragging his knife down the side of the roasted bird and onto a rough-hewn platter. For one long moment, Alfred thought he might burst into tears. 

“It’s for you.” He said. 

“Whe did you get it?” 

“General Montcalm.” He said. “It was too big so I hid it under the floorboards. Thought I’d wear it too the victory parade someday. It’s... it’s your colour now, isn’t it?”

“It— Yeah it is.” 

“I hope its luckier for you than it was for me.” He said quietly. “I hope Lord Bonnefoy is better to you too.”

“Mattie.” Alfred said quietly. 

Matt was standing there, eyes shut against tears, until he looked up at Alfred with those same big, hopeful eyes he’d always had before all this. Full of all the softness and warmth of Canada that may not have existed elsewhere that winter. Words stuck in his throat, and suddenly, so homesick he wanted to burst, Alfred opened his arms. Matt gave up on carving the bird, put down the plate, and allowed Alfred to pull him in again. If Matt had grown, it was only a little, and Alfred could still easily rest his cheek on Matt’s crown, which he did for a long moment.

“Thank you.” He said. 

“It was meant for you,” Matt replied. “You’re... tall and capable like that. It will fit you, even when you fill it out again.” 

“You’ll grow.” Alfred said. “Someday. And then we'll be fine."

Someday. 

[random-fandom-chaos]

I need Monty parenting so bad. I need her noticing little details about the kids, like Kat slightly fidgeting or Sydney acting mean when she's really just protective. I need Monty reassuring Rio that he doesn't have to act like nothing bothers him and telling Paris he doesn't have to be responsible for everyone else.

Mother just goes around collecting homeless kids like Pokemon. Monty doesn't asks questions and immediately adopts them . Canonically, after Mother gets back from his missions where he finds the kids ,he just goes on rants about how cool they are. Monty just listens.

When she gets kidnapped in Golden Gate, Sydney says Monty is like a mother to them.

MONTY. IS. THEIR. MOTHER.

AMEN ,ANON.

I’ve said that to my friend like Mother just adopts every child he sees like if it’s a Pokémon card collection—

AND I LOVE THAT LIKE MOTHER RAMBLING ON ABOUT HOW FOOL HIS KIDS ARE TO HIS BEST FRIEND GUYS. Relationship friendship goals fr!!

Anyways Anon, I have a decided to give a gift:

with silly little commentary

————

After a tireless day after the mission in New York, and Mother’s Day mission, the kids all felt exhausted, blaming themselves for things. Every small detail they ran through their minds, Their father’s kidnapping, Monty being put in custody.

Despite Mother’s attempts to comfort them he was fine the kids were still paranoid he’s hiding something (he most definitely is) his attempt of comfort only worked temporarily

But they relaxed when Monty spoke, she’s their m at this point, she cares for them, she’s always there when they need to vent or they need help with something, Paris feeling like a failure of a som and alpha, Rio saying that when they took the award from him it didn’t affect him, and Kat being more on her feet and fidgety, etc. Monty noted it all.

She found ways to distract them, Dominga baking competition, or just letting them back and cook more often. She always had a comforting motherly presence whenever she was around, even to Mother (he needs a mom AND a dad chat)

Currently both her and Mother are on his tower thingy by the airstrip (May the gods bless me I do not know the name of that)

Mother hands a cup of tea to Monty

“Hey. You’re doing a awesome job, even with your own stress.”

Monty chuckled

“it’s the least I can do for the kids. They work so hard for us.”

Mother nodded, stretching his arms, which were still sore from being tied up. “By the way, how are your arms? I could get you somethin—“

She got cut off by the British man.

“No you did enough work already. Rest. Okay?”

He said, in a strict tone yet meaning it with genuine care, he loved her (platonic or romantic Idc how ppl take it. This moment it’s leaning most to platonic tho) He wanted to her to care for herself to.

He held her down, using his own weight to deal him body across hers, taking the mug form her hands and placing it on the table.

“Hey— I’m fin-“

Monty tried to retaliate, yet being cut off by a yawn

“…Okay you win. Sleep sounds good.”

Mother laughs, nodded, holding her gently, in a comforting and caring manner

“go to sleep…Mom.”

Monty chukled

“you’re a cool dad y’know?”

“Of course I am! I’m wonderfu-“

Smack!

“Ow, why’d u hit my forehead?”

“go to sleep idiot.”

————

THIS WASNT PROOFREAD LOLZ

AND OF COURSE IT HAD MOTHER IN IT. He’s my silly, Monty’s his rationality and the reason he hasn’t killed half of the population of Umbra. /SILLY

Tagging ppls:

@afunky-jester

@needlesandnilbogs (I think ur the Anon)

@fishyupmywishy

@littengamer909

@stellrsjay

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"The RCMP tried to place plants among the internees, false prisoners whose mission was to spy on the other internees. Patrick Lenihan reports that it happened twice, although this author has uncovered only one occasion. This involved a man who arrived from Montreal in March, 1942 named Paul-Henri Robert. Some of the French-Canadian internees knew Robert. Jean Bourget and Joseph Duchesne had known him in a Montreal group that defended the unemployed called Ouvriers Unis. His behaviour with this organization, always calling for violent demonstrations and confrontations with the police, led some of the internees to believe that he was an agent provocateur, working for the authorities. If Robert was sent to spy, he was not very effective for he even admitted that he had once been an RCMP officer, who had been mistakenly sent to Hull rather than Petawawa. Robert shared a cell with Jacques Villeneuve and described to his cell-mate the circumstances of his most recent arrest which led him to Hull. Robert claimed he had been arrested for making anti-British remarks while in a tavern. The story sounded strange, at least in the opinion of Bourget, Duchesne, Villeneuve, Rodolphe Majeau, and Roméo Duval, who wrote to Major Green on March 25, 1942, demanding that Green get rid of Robert since they believed he was a stool-pigeon, a spy, a plant. Green refused to acquiesce to the demands, maintaining that he had no idea who Robert was. The internees made life miserable for Robert, isolating him, and threatening to beat him. Was this an instance of the Hull internees being paranoid about someone they did not like from the outside world? Possibly, but when Major Green [camp commandant who liaised with the RCMP to report on internee conduct] was transferred to the POW camp for German soldiers at Bowmanville, near Oshawa, Ontario, on April 15, 1942, the very same day, Robert was transferred to Petawawa. The whole incident is unclear but shows, nevertheless, that the internees, at the very least, were concerned about spies among their ranks.

...

A phenomenon readily detectable was the censorship to which the internees were subjected. Letters from family were intercepted and delivered. Mention of news from the outside world, including actions being taken by lawyers on behalf of internees, was removed from letters. The internees were not allowed to use terms such as ‘anti-fascist’ to describe themselves, nor were they allowed to refer to Hull as a ‘concentration camp’. 

Censorship was a regular part of military life during the war. Soldiers were required to be circumspect in describing their whereabouts or activities, and their communications both to and from were subject to censorship. Applied to the internees, however, censorship was just one more limitation of their civil rights, which provided dubious military benefits, at best. Sometimes, correspondents of internees were objects of investigation; this was especially the case for soldiers who were sons of the internees.

According to a Cabinet order of May, 1940, the federal government was responsible for social assistance provided by municipalities to the families of internees, but this did not mean much if municipalities refused to provide this assistance, or if the amounts were too little. The trust companies working for the Trustee of Enemy Properties froze assets of the internees and their families. The internees were not permitted visits by their families, always an object of contestation by the internees. Nonetheless, Jenny Freed did lead a delegation of wives, who hitchhiked from Montreal to the Hull prison, and caused quite a commotion when the men were able to talk to the women, who were standing outside the prison walls. 

In October, 1941, the authorities began permitting conjugal visits to Hull. John McNeil’s  wife from Winnipeg was the first to visit her husband. In November, 1941, other visits followed, and they soon become typical, even if not too intimate since the visits were limited to thirty minutes in the presence of guards. Visits from others were also controlled, including even one official visit from the Premier of Quebec, Adélard Godbout.

Godbout was allowed to meet Colonel Sherwood, commandant of the Ottawa  region, and Major Green, during a visit in Hull in October, 1941. While Godbout was permitted to inspect the quarters of the guards, the Army did not allow Godbout, accompanied by local politicians from Hull, inside the prison to visit the internees’ quarters. His only contact with the internees that was permitted was listening to a few songs sung by a choral group of the internees."

- Michael Martin, The Red Patch: Political Imprisonment in Hull, Quebec during World War 2. Self-published, 2007. p 159-160

[profumoaffair]

came for the barbaric lars insights, stayed for the foreign politics

when you said “PMS from ‘64 onwards ish mainly Wilson” i thought for a sec you were saying you’d had PMS for the past 61 years. which is relatable

anyway do you have a fave book or documentary about this stuff. it is honestly shocking how progressive that guy was. politicians with views that involve compassion are so fucking rare and they fascinate me

Hello!!!! YAY! This makes me really happy that some people are interested!!!:-). I’m so embarrassed about this emerging interest especially because I am British. And no LOL Imagine if we’d only had PMs since 64 😭 . I just don’t particularly find any PMs pre Wilson that interesting HOWEVER I do find Macmillan interesting tooo………

I’ll be probably posting about Gaitskell and Bevan At some point. Bevan was wayyyy ahead of his time and this created quite a split in the Labour Party with Bevanites and Gaitskellites picking sides really………

I’m verrryyy interested in the more progressive people like you say!!! Shockingly little material on Wilson when compared to other PMs. Fascinating man. Got verryyy paranoid in his second run as Pm. ………. So! There’s a great documentary I posted called Heath vs Wilson The Ten Year Duel. Very interesting and pretty insightful about the social side of it all too . That’s my favourite at the moment HOWEVER I’ll get back to you when I find some more ….

Harold Wilson - The Final Days is pretty good too andddd The Other Side of Suez is good.

Books wise White Heat and Never Had It So Good are very detailed andddd slightly drag on but they are very interesting nonetheless. White Heat is about like 64-70 and Never Had It So Good is about the 56-63

[bucketspammer4life]

random punch out ramblings because fuck you

you heard me

- narcis speaks like the average british stereotype and has a light voice for his age, he keeps getting bullied recklessly over it, people can barely understand what he says

- Macho Man gifted bald bull a necklace with a small bell on it so when hes ready to go apeshit so anyone who pisses him off knows their que to run away, hes now trying to convince him to pierce his ears to gift him earings with bells

- Glass Joe once ate raw dough and felt his soul physically exit him, he has the bread version of chicken anxiety (?) now (its what happens when you get paranoid after getting salmonella from a chicken and check every piece you eat)

- Aran climbs on stuff for no reason when hes bored and hides in dumb places to grab ankles and spook people

- bald bull actually has his nose pierced, he just doesnt wear it in fights because hes smart and doesnt want to injure his nose

- von kaiser sometimes reads little mac bedtime stories when he struggles to sleep and doc is asleep or doesnt have enough energy to get up,

- Disco kid And king Hippo go partying on weekends, often ending up wrecked

- don flamenco once got caught eating an entire ass head of lettuce while he was staying over at piston hondo's, hondo is still scared

- piston hondo has cried while watching madoka magica multiple times, no matter how many times he rewatches it (no spoilers for you all im kind)

- bear hugger eats raw meat & veggies, he once DEVOURED an entire ass raw steak in front of everyone, food poisoning fears him

- bald bull and macho man have a frenemy thing going on, they beat the shit out of each other, sometimes Macho wins, sometimes bull wins, sometimes they have to run from sandman because hes done with their shit, they'll curse each other out but they will not let anyone else talk shit about each other

- Aran has been caught listening cotton eye joe multiple times and will not admit it, we know what we heard, aran

- great tiger takes advantage of his clones a lot, he has court trials with himself, acts out fake scenarios with himself and has dinner with himself when he feels lonely, his clones personalities of their own along with a lot of sass attitude, he'll ask a clone to bring him snacks and his clone will be like "get off your ass and get it yourself idiot"

- piston hondo & bald bull are good at math and used to tutor Mac until they both got so pissed off at him while trying to help him do his homework and he cried, after he got diagnosed with dyscalculia they felt bad for him and apologized

[rayofmisfortune]

*confused crying*

Rayyyyy they're being mean to the British baby againnn

Moon's going on a killing spree based on WORD OF MOUTH IMPLICATIONS from A VILLAIN who would FIND ENJOYMENT IN WATCHING HIM RUN AROUND IN LITTLE CIRCLES. THEY HAVE ZERO EVIDENCE AGAINST HIM ASIDE FROM CIRCUMSTANCIAL AND HIM BEING A QUIRKY LIL MAN

Poor Sun trying to talk him down, too- @ikamigami was right (at least I think it was them) Moon is paranoid and going off the deep end

I'm on the verge of making a "the canon is not real if I do not look at it" AU so I can pretend the AU is canon and my babies can be happy

Blorbos confiscated. If they can't play nice with their own characters, then they can't play with them anymore :(

(insert free invitation to rant at me)

I WILL GLADLY TAKE THAT RAJT INVITATION MY DEAR FRIEND (oh my gosh I haven't followed you hsve I 😭 AAAAAH GONNA FIX THAT IM SKRRY AH)

This'll be a little long so, the whole rant and ramble is under cut hehe

MY ROSE TINTED GLASSES HAVE BEEN SHATTERED DUDE 😭

I refuse to accept canon as canon so- *drags over RJ AU Ruin Eclipse* THEY ARE THE CANON RUIN NOW I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

BUT TO BE FAIR... I've noticed a few things that should've been a glaring red flag to Ruin still being a little off the rails I guess-

It's a thing we love about them and it makes then unique i guess... but.. but THEIR ACCEPT STAYING THE SAME SHOULD'VE BEEN A GIVEAWAY THE MOMENT THEY CAME BACK ONLINE AFTER REBOOTING

We've HEARD the actuals Ruin Eclipse before on.. very few occasions.. BUT WE HAVE HEARD THEM! (In the episode where Ruin rescued Foxy and the first Interview with Jigsaw) it wasn't for a long time but... the ACTUAL Ruin Eclipse had talked through Ruin on few occasions.

Linking them below here

With this ^ one, I think that when they start chanting "save me" it was already Jigsaw back in full control.

BUT WHAT I MEANT! Do we hear a poor british accent in any of these instances? NO WE DO NOT!

With this one v

I'm not sure what this one meant. When the video first came out I thought we were hearing Ruin Sun and Moon talking through Ruin who was going on and on about needing to get back to connection and internet..

I mean.. from the Ruin DLC, we know they can probably seperate and talk for themselves?? As seen with Sun who thanked Cassie after being rebooted into Eclipse. (Yes I'm dragging the canon dca into this, Ruin WAS based on that DCA itteration after all..)

And what do we hear when Ruin gets rebooted?

RUIN'S BRITISH ACCENT! I'm probably looking too deep into just how their voice sounded at first vs now... by all means they could've changed their voice over time (as was seen with Puppet). But... I dunno... if they really were just playing everyone a fool this whole time.. I don't think the voice is something we should overlook.

Granted... I believe a lot of things with Ruin may have been retconned or rewritten after the DLC came out. (As canon Eclipse acte nothing like the teams Ruin at the time)

ANYWHO WHY DID I DRAG THIS BEAN OVER HERE YOU ASK? *gestures to RJ AU Ruin Eclipse* well!

Because of a little theory and hc of mine I've slapped onto them! The antivirus DID NOT get rid of the virus as a whole. RJ Ruin Clipsy over here needs to take periodical dosages of the cure to keep the virus at bay and chip away at it to finally be rid of it!

That... that's what I'm gonna hold onto as the reasoning behind how Ruin acts. The actual Eclipse (and even Sun and Moon) is still somewhere in there. As seen in the clips listed above.

Just- PLEASE I NEED THEM HERE W/ ME

[shadowserenity28]

Alexander Liddell

━━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━

“Have you seen the white rabbit? He’s late again...”

━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━━

~General information~

Full name

Alexander Liddell

Pronunciation

A-lex-an-der

Lid-dell

Meanings

First name:

Alexander

Greek origin, means “warrior” or “man’s defender”

Last name:

Liddell

from the Old English river name Hl̄de, meaning 'loud', + Old English dæl 'valley’

Nicknames:

Alex

Monsieur Wonderland (Rook)

Barracuda (Floyd)

Sex:

Male

Gender:

Male

Age:

17

Date of birth

26th July

Zodiac sign

Leo

Sexuality

Asexual

Nationality

British

Homeland

Queendom of Roses

Place of residence

Heartslabyul Dorm at Night Raven College

Job/Occupation

Student

♡Relationships♡

Family

Unnamed parents (deceased)

Unnamed sister (deceased)

Divus Crewel (adoptive father)

Friends

Felix (OC)

Floyd

Jade

Significant Other

None

━━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━

“Why don’t you see the giant mushrooms all over the school?"

━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━━

◇Appearance◇

Skin tone

Sickly pale

Eyes

big eyes, green

Hair

shoulder-long, black hair, straight

Height

1,67 m

Weight

74 kg

Body type

Thin and scrawny

Birthmarks

None

Clothes and accessories

Alex wears the NRC school uniform without the blazer and a special bow with a skull in the middle. He also wears asymmetrical, black and white striped arm sleeves and high, black boots with silver buckles. He wears an upside down horse shoe as a belt buckle.

Special features

He has burn scars along his torso, legs and arms. He also has screws sticking out of his head.

━━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━

“You ever get so lost in your thoughts that you forget where you are? Happens to me all the time.”

━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━━

.°. Personality .°.

Description

Alex is clinically insane. He suffers from survivor's guilt and PTSD and hallucinates constantly, living in a fantasy world with little relation to reality. Despite that, he does not take medicine for it as he doesn't trust medicine at all anymore.

He regularly has panic attacks, which sometimes grow violent. However, he usually doesn't attack people, rather fighting the air or inanimate objects that he hallucinates to be monsters. 

Even though he isn't lucid most of the time, Alex generally cares for others and tries to help where he can, even if his idea of helping is keeping the “monsters” away. He still laughs a lot, trying to find joy in even the smallest things to soothe his shattered mind.

Likes and loves

His bunny

Tea parties

Unbirthday parties

Dislikes and hates

The “monsters”

Screws and nails

Crowley

Good traits

Helpful

Kind

Creative

Bad traits

Insane

Paranoid

Delusional 

Habits

Talking to himself

Collecting odd objects

Staring into space

Hopes and Ambitions

He hopes to one day be sane again.

Motivations

Alex wants to understand reality and fully distinguish it from his hallucinations.

Fears

Doctors

Needles

Fire

Insecurities

He is very much aware that he's insane and is very self-conscious about it, but he's unable to properly express it.

Biggest Dream

 Right now, he doesn’t have the mental capacity to wish for anything bigger than to fit in with his peers.

Pet Peeves

Being late

Overly complicated instructions

Unhelpful advice

Favorites

Favorite color

Red

Least favorite color

White

Favorite food

Sweets

Least favorite food

Mashed potatoes

Favorite drink

Soda

Least favorite drink

Tea

Trivia

-Alex is based on Alice from the McGee Alice series

-Jade and Floyd took a liking to him because of his violent tendencies. They try to encourage him, even

-Felix is the only one who actually gets his freak

-Alex sensed Riddle’s upcoming overblot as he began seeing him as a monster when he first began accumulating blot. However, it was only after the overblot, when he saw him normally again, that he understood why he saw Riddle as a monster

-The monsters he sees usually look like the ruins from Alice: Madness Returns

-He has little nooks all over campus where he retreats when he’s overwhelmed. These are similar to the flowers in Alice: Madness Returns Alice uses to heal herself

-His birthday is the same day Disney’s Alice in Wonderland came out in 1951

-The screws on his head are a result of his time in the asylum. Removing them risks more harm to his already damaged mental state, so Crewel decided to leave them so long as they don’t bother Alex

-Alex calls Crewel by his first name, Divus, even in class

━━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━

“I can't right now, I gotta save Wonderland.”

━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━━

~•~ School Life ~•~

School

Night Raven College 

Dormitory

Heartslabyul Dorm

Year

Second

Class

2-B

Student Number

Nr. 18

Best school subject

P.E.

Worst school subject

Potionology

Club

Mountain lovers association 

━━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━

“They tell me it's all in my head, but it feels more real than anything else. Reality has become a fluid concept.”

━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━━

Backstory

Alex came from a rather wealthy family, but all of that changed when his home burned down and his family died in the fire when he was only 7. He survived by a hair and now has some permanent burn scars. Since that day, he spiraled in survivor’s guilt and PTSD, and was therefore admitted to an asylum.

In that asylum, he was horribly mistreated and subjected to all kinds of outdated “treatments”. He mentally retreated into his fantasy world he called “Wonderland”. However, as his mental health decayed, so did the beauty of Wonderland, which now reflected more and more of his shattered mind.

When he was 15, the asylum was exposed for its inhumane treatments and was shut down. Most patients were relocated, but Alex was too traumatized to accept help from nurses or doctors anymore. To him, everyone was an enemy and he would get aggressive from just approaching him. 

He ran away from the new asylum he was supposed to be put in, expecting more torture. While running away, he ran into a random garden and hid in the shed. That's where Divus Crewel found him. It didn't take long for Crewel to understand that Alex ran away from an asylum and was too traumatized to even think about returning. Instead of forcing him back to the asylum, Crewel took him in, slowly building trust.

A few months later, Alex was found by the authorities, but by then he was showing signs of recovery and the doctors decided that pulling him from his new environment would do more harm than good and Crewel officially adopted him. He took him along to Night Raven College to keep an eye on him while also slowly trying to get him to integrate with the other students. 

Alex spent most of his time following Crewel’s lectures, though he himself didn't really follow them. He just quietly stayed by Crewel's side so Crewel could intervene if he was having a panic attack. Over the next year Alex grew more independent, slowly learning that he suffered from hallucinations, but rarely able to distinguish them. To him, his two worlds had merged into one, and both worlds were equally real. However, he can differentiate between humans and hallucinations, since none of the characters in his fantasy were human.

Alex would often panic as he was “attacked” by monsters, which were really just creations of his own mind. Crewel, not exactly having a psychology degree, decided to give Alex a toy knife to “defend himself”. It worked, to Crewel’s surprise, and Crewel figured so long as he only used it on his imaginary monsters he would be fine. A year later, Alex became an official NRC student.

━━━━━━━━━~•~━━━━━━━━

“I’m learning to accept that I’ll never be ‘normal,’ but maybe that’s okay. My chaos is part of who I am.”

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Classroom Setting Masterlist

Bad Boys Don’t Smile (wattpad) - phanci

Summary: Phil Lester is sweet and cute; known for his kindness and enthusiasm. Dan Howell is a tough, cold outsider; known as the school’s stereotypical ‘bad boy’. But if he’s so bad, then why on earth did he rescue Phil Lester and give him a smile which would melt anyone’s heart?

Don’t Touch Me - awesomesockes

Summary: Dan has developed PTSD after being kidnapped two years ago. Phil knows how to deal with him tries to help him whenever he’s feeling bad.

Exposed - multifandomfanfics

Summary: Ridgewell High School is known for its fast spreading rumours. So when someone starts a blog dedicated to outing people’s secrets, everyone becomes paranoid that theirs will be next.

Grey Areas and Expectations (ao3) - celestialfics (orphan_account), danthrusts

Summary: When Mr. Howell and Mr. Lester both start their first years of teaching in America at the same time, the students notice their mutual British accents and immediately get to work snooping, observing, and theorizing. The curiosity of the students added to the constant "threat" of fellow teacher Ms. Christensen equals nothing short of a chaotic school year full of memes, plants, and maybe a little bit of needed privacy in the teachers’ lounge closet.

Heard It’s Good Luck - DontForgetToPanic

Summary: “Is it for luck,” Phil asks, “or does this constitute bribery?” Where Dan’s a uni student, Phil’s his TA from last semester, their old lecture hall is conveniently empty, and this is all just gratuitous PWP

Houseplants, Fairy Lights and You (ao3) - thatsthephan

Summary: Dan's a bored Sociology professor. His life gets a lot more interesting when a new Botany professor moves into the classroom next door. Plus, it's Valentine's Day, and the students sense love in the air.

I Wanna Sleep Next To You (but that's all i want to do right now) (ao3) - unshipping

Summary: There is nothing more in the entire world that Dan loves more than he loves Phil’s laugh. He adores hearing it echoing through the hallways of the high school they both work in, and he can’t help but smile every time he catches a whisper of it through their shared classroom wall. Even muffled, it radiates pure joy and energy. Phil is a ball of sunshine, and everyone who works with him, is taught by him, or interacts with him for more than a millisecond is acutely aware of that fact.

Life is Just a Classroom (ao3) - Emejig16

Summary: Phil is bad at math and Dan is more than a pastel color wearing genius, he just needs the right person to see that.

Promises (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Phil Lester is in a relationship with his high school teacher and he finds out that he’s pregnant while he’s still in school. Dan and Phil have to figure out how to be together and raise the baby while still hiding their relationship from the public, but it’s not as easy as it used to be.

Risky Situations - jilliancares

Summary: Dan Howell and Phil Lester don’t like each other, but Dan had too much pride to turn down Phil’s dare, even if it was to masturbate during class.

Safe And Sound (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Dan gets bullied in school for being gay and gets beat up constantly by Chris Kendall’s ‘gang’. It wasn’t until one day when Dan escapes from the boys and finds himself in the English classroom, and he’s surprised when he finds help from Mr. Lester, the English teacher.

That Bullet Won’t Hit You (fanfiction.net) - flamboyant-lester

Summary: (Phan) (Oneshot) Dan and Phil aren't together anymore. But when an a man with a gun breaks into their school and engages in open fire throughout the classroom. Phil finds that his only instinct is to protect Dan. Warnings: profanity, high school au, angst, violence, depression, slight fluff? i'm american?, what? oh yeah and bad boy Phil holla

Theatre Class (ao3) - Star4545

Summary: Dan Howell is the new drama teacher with a classroom the size of a jail cell, students who won’t stop singing Hamilton, and the English teacher who won’t stop giving him bedroom eyes.

The Partner Project - fakecouple

Summary: The AU in which Phil is the nerd, and Dan is the rebellious bad boy with witty quips.