#then asking $1000 is absolutely nonsensical

[swagging-back-to]

i think the biggest motivator for people learning to draw is the outrageous prices for some art pieces. do NOT get me wrong i am 110% for artists profiting from their art and i understand the time and energy put into professional pieces...

but asking random tumblrinas to pay thousands of dollars on digital art of a woman standing in a field------------------ you aint gonna get any business, im sorry.

[lttl3babybug]

Gently squeezing your face, hello honey!! (If your not okay with nicknames let me know!!)

Could I ask forrrr hm, either caregiver Stolas or caregiver Asmodeus ( >w<) with a baby regressor? Preferably padded but no force!! I hope you have a lovely day my dearest ~

HIII, I absolutely adore nicknames :3 but of course! I just posted some cg Stolas so I can give you Cg!Ozzie!! (Apologies if this is nonsensical I wrote it at 6am with an hour and 40 minutes of sleep maximum)

Cg!Asmodeus & Baby!Regressor!Reader headcanons!

🩵Ozzie is just the sweetest, we’ve seem how gentle he is with fizz so we know he’s an absolutely amazing cg :(

🩵Ozzie is a big guy, like he’s huge. He’s gonna pick you up at every opportunity he can

🩵Due to his height he likes to remind you just how little you are

“Aw look at you…just a tiny baby aren’t you, hm? Nothing but an itty bitty baby. Look at how tiny you are compared to me!”

🩵Good Gods above he will spoil you to the ends of hell and back

🩵You have more paci’s than you can count, he just sees them and gets them for you because he loves surprising you

🩵Seeing how excited you get when when he says he has a surprise for you and his wide your eyes go.

🩵Now if you’re a nonverbal baby you needn’t Fret. Ozzie is a master at deciphering your babbles

🩵Making grabby hands at something you want or someone who’s attention you crave? He’s on it, giving you whatever you want (if it’s appropriate that is) and dragging over whatever one of his assistants has caught your fancy today

🩵Ozzie has a whole room dedicated to your safe space, it’s one of the only places he feels it’s okay to leave you unsupervised

🩵Being the sin of lust of course his place isn’t exactly…child appropriate. But this room is full of nothing but toys, stuffies, baby books, blankets, the whole shebang

🩵Course he loves playing with you too, big fan of playing the damsel in distress for you to rescue

🩵But he also loves reading to you and doing your baby puzzles with you!

🩵Watching your face light up with joy as you solve the jigsaw in front of you and signal for his attention by whiney or making general babble noises in his direction

🩵If you’re feeling bratty or generally stubborn he tends to talk through things before sending you to time out, making sure you’re calm and understand why you’re being put in that position.

🩵Now Ozzie with a padded regressor is a whole different thing

🩵This was something he discussed with you while big, he’d noticed you’d started slipping further than usual (course he wasn’t mad about that at all) and that lead to accidents and tears

🩵He made 1000% sure that you were comfortable with this happening, with him changing you, with him seeing you like that in such a vulnerable state

🩵And even after having you give him both verbal and written consent that it was okay he still asks you before he changes you. Just incase

“Are you okay with me taking this off you sweetheart? I don’t want you getting a rash down there baby…it’s okay if not. I’m sure you’re smart enough to change yourself”

🩵Placing you on the changing table and distracting you the whole time by holding a stuffie above you or asking you about your favourite book or game

🩵He makes sure you’re keeping clean down there at all times, checking you every 30 minutes- an hour

🩵You have the comfiest pull ups or dips you could ever imagine, so pretty too!

[child-of-the-danube]

Right, it's time to go absolutely bonkers with theories. This whole episode has to be one of Lilia's visions (or Teen controlling them subconsciously) because everything was off about it.

- First Lilia wakes up knowing that the Salem Seven are there. As much as we know, Lilia is rarely ever able to so directly read her visions/premonitios, she usually just blurts them out in a nonsensical order and doesn't remember doing so, but this time she was completely sure.

- Jen was strangely VERY antagonistic towards Agatha from the start of the episode. They aren't really the best of friends but this was different. The way she shut down Rio for defending Agatha. Then "tell us more" when Agatha mentioned selflessness with the brooms.

- Alice then suggests that they have to get off of the road which was thing no.1 Agatha told them not to do and they saw the road swallowing Sharon at the start of episode 3 for straying off the path. Which later it does to all of them again, which makes me think this wasn't a real/the correct trial at all. The moment they hopped on the brooms they fucked up and the road was punishing all of them just to swallow them in the end.

- Also the road forces them down. They're falling and the world is inverted. What if the road swallowing them wasn't just Teen's doing but actually the road taking them to the proper trial which is Lilia's. We saw in the snippets hinting to Lilia's trial that there's a floating and falling down scene but the people around Lilia aren't the coven. It's the Salem Seven. Maybe that's how they get back up as later on in the snippets there's a scene of Agatha fully covered in mud speaking to Teen so they clawed their way back up.

EDIT 1: YO NEVER FUCKING MIND THIS. In the scene where Agatha is covered in mud talking to Teen, the road is still yellow so they probably clawed out BEFORE Lilia's trial

- The door of the trial house is plain wood. All of the doors before had the Moon phase fitting to the person who's trial it is ON THE DOOR. But this time they see the Blood Moon through a window. In the episodes before, the outside of the house they were in wasn't real. Also, Alice's Moon was a Waxing Crescent. By all means, the following Moon phase should have been the First Quarter (when obstacles start to rise and decisions need to be made - obstacle being Teen knowing who he is now), not a Full (Blood) Moon cause the Full Moon comes after a Waxing Gibbous. And the Moon was the colour close to Wanda's look and crown.

- Also why would the main character's trial be in the middle of the show? Makes no narrative sense. And Agatha's biggest trauma isn't her mother and the coven, even if it was very significant to her becoming who she is, it's her son. Her trial would be Nick focused. A cabin in the woods, the 80s look, Ouija board etc. are all very much staples of teen focused horrors. Besides why on Earth would Agatha's trial make Teen get his powers? The trial ends with Teen speaking Nick's name and Agatha telling Teen he's so much like his mom. Lilia even tells him to pray to the Divine Mother at the start of the episode when they hop on their brooms. Him getting his powers means his sigil is broken. He remembers who he is, who his mother is and now Agatha knows too. This was 1000% percent his trial nobody can convince me otherwise

- Lilia asks what's on the back of the pamphlet and it says "for ages 3 and up" so again alluding to kids, which Teen is the only one of there.

- They're all dressed as campers beside Lilia. She looks like a camp counsellor or a mom that went to see her kids there. Which, ok, she is the oldest, but not that significantly older than Agatha. In the trials before, she always matched the others perfectly, this time she doesn't. Why?

- Lilia accidentally lets go of the Ouija board thingy, which Teen said not to do under any circumstances but nothing happened to her. By road logic, shouldn't she have been the one possessed or hurt? Actually, nothing happens to her for almost the entire episode (and Rio, but that we know why). Agatha gets possessed, Teen is attacked by both one of the Salem Seven and possessed Agatha, Agatha almost kills Jen and Alice dies. Lilia is at no moment in true danger nor does she intervene. She's practically just a spectator.

- Then the board says Death is with them which shouldn't be a shock. Agatha knows who Rio is and they all know by song that walking the road means holding Death's hand. Lilia is constantly bringing up death. Why would it single Rio out when the rest of the trial didn't have anything to do with her and Agatha's bond or trauma?

- When the board freaks out and the screams begin, Lilia says she hated this the first time. What time? There were no spirits screaming from beyond the veil before unless we count her hearing the pictures in Alice's episode but I'd say that was just her memories as she was the only one hearing it. Now everyone hears it. And Teen says that Lilia is being weird again. I might be reading to much into it, but the screams kind of have the echo a tubular space, like a tower, would perhaps make. On the Tower card we see a blue crown at the top. I believe Teen (and Rio whom we didn't see getting swallowed by the earth end of episode as she was probably guiding Alice to the other side) are sitting Lilia's trial out next episode and it's gonna be Agatha, Lilia and Jen trying to get back to them.

EDIT 2: This one I still somewhat stand on, except the crawling back part, cause in the trailer we only see Lilia with Agatha and Jen dressed like Wizard of Oz/Wicked characters + the Salem Seven, but no Teen and Rio.

- Ok, Agatha is possessed and kind of out this episode but I'll still point out that when Evanora appears, it's Lilia asking the questions and standing in the middle protecting the coven. She works as an almost narrator this episode.

- When Alice tries to save Agatha, Lilia says "Knight of Wands" which one of the meanings is caution against hasty decisions such as Alice blasting Agatha knowing that's how she takes power.

- The door out of the trial opens upwards which it didn't do before. Both Jen and Alice's trial had them go down a door as the road seems to be a descent into further hardship/hell metaphor. The only door it would make sense to go upwards is the end of the road.

- The road turns yellow when they get back so Lilia's trial is next

EDIT 3: I just realized that Lilia repeats "punish Agatha" she looks right at Teen, not at Evanora. She could feel something was off AAAAAA

I'm begging people to discuss this with me. Give me your theories, the things I might have missed or ignored. Cause I'm going nuts about this episode

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Luck of the Draw

Day #8 - Prompt: Band Politics | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Jeff | Pairing: None | Tags: Making Decisions, Fussing and Fighting, Like Overgrown Children

Jeff passes out the poker chips, counting out a stack for each of them, to see how this goes. Because there's clearly no other way. They keep fighting about the stupidest shit, and if they're gonna make this tour work, they're gonna have to stop bickering over nonsense.

"Each chip is a unilateral decision, no pushback. Over and done," Jeff says, and pulls out the baggie full of paper slips covering all the dumb shit they've been arguing about. 

It's not any of the big decisions. Those things can't be decided like this. But the small shit? Absolutely. 

"Draw a slip of paper," Jeff says, "and if you care enough about what's on it, you spend one of your chips to make the decision between the options we've been discussing. No going rogue. These have to be decisions that make sense, logically, even if we all don't agree."

Everybody nods. They roll a die, to decide who will get to go first, and it's Eddie, which is no surprise. He's always had that kind of good luck behind a roll.

Eddie draws a piece of paper, and reads, "What to paint on the van."

Goodie and Gareth both groan, and Eddie squirms in his seat with delight, handing over one of his chips.

Eddie's had strong opinions about this, and it's pretty fucking lucky that this is what he drew. If Jeff hadn't set everything up himself, he'd definitely think Eddie had cheated somehow to rig the system. There's probably nothing else Eddie has fought harder for, so this is a best case scenario, because they won't have to listen to him bitch anymore.

"Picture it," Eddie says, hands waving, as if he's setting the scene, "Corroded Coffin. Naked pin-up lady-"

"Why on earth do you want a naked lady?" Goodie interrupts, the ongoing fight picking right back up.

Which is not allowed. The luck of the draw has spoken. Eddie gets to choose.

"It's ironic," Eddie says, as if that's obvious.

"It's not-" Goodie starts to snap, and Jeff has to nip this in the bud.

"No. Nope. Eddie gets to decide this one. Next!"

And Gareth grabs a slip of paper from the hat, reads it, and groans.

"What is it? Jeff asks.

"Getting to decide the standard setlist," Gareth answers.

"You want it?"

Gareth waffles, not wanting to give up his turn, clearly, but also probably not caring about the setlist. This has been a back-and-forth Jeff has had with Eddie, and Eddie alone. Gareth doesn't care what order they play songs, just that they play. 

"Pass," Gareth says, throwing the slip of paper back into the drawing pool.

Jeff shakes them again, and lets Goodie take his pick.

"Shotgun schedule," Goodie says with absolute glee, and Gareth throws his hands in the air.

"Well, that's fucking great!" Gareth snaps.

Jeff reaches over and squeezes Gareth's shoulder, "He gets to choose the schedule, he does not get it all the time. Right, Goodie?" Jeff prompts and Goodie grumbles, but nods. 

Gareth will still get screwed, Jeff's absolutely certain of that, but he will get his turn. Jeff will make sure of it. They aren't trying to piss each other off that bad, he hopes.

And then Jeff grabs one himself, "Tour routing."

Eddie starts to argue, because he has big thoughts about this, too. Eddie has big thoughts about everything, and he'd steamroll them all if they'd let him. 

They've been fighting about the route the next tour should take. Stay in the Midwest, or venture out further. Whether the van can handle that, even. This one is a big responsibility, and Jeff wants to take it on, so they don't end up on a wild goose chase of a tour.

"It's mine," Jeff says, forking over his chip.

And then they start all over, picking and choosing, until there's a stack of papers left, and Gareth is the only one with a chip left, because he skipped that first turn.

He keeps drawing and throwing them back, ending up redrawing things over and over again, and Jeff's not sure what he's looking for in there. They're never gonna finish this up at this rate.

"Gareth. It's just you. Open them and set them aside. Pick the one you want. It's fine. Just get on with it," Jeff says, trying to steer this in the right direction.

Gareth does, until he has a table full of open slips, looking over all the options leftover. Options they will still have to make decisions on, eventually, but not today. Jeff's hit his limit for the day, they all have, except Gareth apparently, as he wavers.

"For fuck's sake, pick one or I'm picking one for you!" Goodie shouts at him, and Gareth just ignores him.

"What do you want, kid? What are you looking for?" Eddie finally asks. 

"Room assignments," Gareth said, "did someone else get that?"

They all shake their heads.

"That wasn't even an option. Have we been fighting about that?" Jeff asks.

Gareth looks disappointed, "No. But I just didn't want to fight about it."

Jeff always assumed he'd stay with Goodie and Gareth would stay with Eddie. A given. But if Gareth wants to pick that, fine. Jeff scrawls it on a piece of paper and slides it over, "All yours."

Gareth looks thrilled, and Jeff starts to clean up the mess. This isn't over, not by a long shot, but at least they've made some progress. 

Eddie and Goodie are gone, out to grab a couple pizzas, and Jeff can't resist asking. "Why the room assignments?" 

Gareth looks up, "Because I don't want to fight with Goodie all day and then all night, too."

Oh. This is gonna be a bigger issue than he thought, probably. Nobody warns you that these things are the hardest parts about being in a band. 

The little squabbles, and slights, that snowball.

The resentments that build, and fester.

Jeff catches his eye, "I'll make sure that doesn't happen."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[tainted-liquor]

'Baby Mama.˚ *꒰ঌ✦໒꒱ * ˚.

Father!Hobie Brown x Mama!BlackFem!Reader Ingredients: Extra sugar, kisses, and tons of smiles! TWs: Dumb dad Hobie, cussing, thas it W/C: 891 A/N: You have a son🥺

It had been about 3 months since you and Hobie welcomed a tiny bundle of blue into the world. To say he was head over heels was an understatement; he was enamored. There were a couple of times where he popped a nigga with the force of a bullet train in the name of your son, Renzo, for various reasons. He popped Miles for "holding him the wrong way", judo-flipped Pav for attempting to hold the baby's hand, and absolutely smashed Miguel for even breathing too hard at his son during his nap time. He was the most adoring and doting father you had ever seen before Lil Renzie could even open his eyes.

Initially, Renzo wasn't a planned baby, as fucked up as that sounds. Hobie didn't quite believe in bringing another life form into an economy that was falling apart at every turn, rendering it impossible to live without relying on some sort of capitalist company. But by no means take this as a hint that he was in ANY capacity a deadbeat, absolutely not. He hated the idea of bringing a child into a world of pure evil but hated the idea of abandoning a human being somewhere out in the world even more and leaving all the responsibility on his mother. If the kid is his, IT'S HIS. So when he got the call that you were in labor, he dropped whatever it was he was doing.

"Yeah love, y'alright?" He cooed almost as soon as he answered the loud ringtone of his 1000 BCE phone. "Hey, so I don't wanna worry you or anything, but my water broke n' we're on our way to the...Hello?" You pulled your phone to your face to look at the screen, only to see that Hobie had hung up. You thought that maybe the call dropped and he was out on a mission, but no; Hobie was rapidly approaching your location from his watch, heaving and panting as he practically flung himself out of HQ. It took him a total of 2 minutes to seemingly appear by your side. "I'M 'ERE! IM 'ERE WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENIN'-" He yelled in the middle of the hospital. From that point forward, everything was chaos.

It took several midwives and you to calm him down, and 9 doctors to wrestle him out of the delivery room when it came time for you to push. Best believe he was still there every step of the way, despite the plethora of faculty asking for him to leave the room. At the end of the day, nobody wanted beef with the 6 foot 5 tall ass punk man with the meanest resting bitch face of all time, so they miraculously left him alone and let him be present for the entire birth. And when your son was finally born, he started baby bawling right along with him. Yes, he was crying as loud as humanly possible.

"Here, sweets you hold him-...are you crying?"

"No." He muttered with his eyes literally full of tears.

From that day forward, all he ever did was spend time with his son. Whenever he went to HQ he would insist on keeping Renzo so you could "get some rest", sticking him to his back as he did idle tasks, getting into nonsensical babble wars, and helping him learn how to stick to walls. Whenever he was allowed to dress up Renzo, he had the little homie dressed down in spikes, black leather, and a mini version of whatever outfit he had on without fail. He even made him a mini version of his guitar out of some plywood, rubber bands, and spare metal. There were times when Hobie would help Renzo "play" his fake guitar, muttering some of his song lyrics in the process.

You woke up from your cat nap to hear giggles coming from Hobie and Renzo in the living room. You shuffled your way out of your bedroom to see what was happening, and instantly covered your mouth so they wouldn't realize you were there just yet. Hobie stood in the middle of the living room, arms crossed, and staring at the tiny baby on the couch. "Ah-! Don't laugh at me, young man. You need to start learning how to be a proper Spider-Man!" he 'argues' as he holds back giggles. Renzo offers him a sleepy blink and yet another fit of laughter as he falls over on his side. You silently emerge from the doorframe, picking up your son and holding him near Hobie's face.

"C'monn, he's only a baby! Tell daddy I don't need to be a Spider-man just yet" you coached with a kiss to the side of the baby face. "I need to focus on being mommy's baby!" you giggled. "Ahh, c'mon. He should be able to stick to walls already, yeah?" He snickered. You rolled your eyes as you watched Renzo practically jump from your hands to Hobie's, earning a loud laugh from your 'husband.' "See? Proper Spider-Man! Yeah, mate!" he chuckled as he held a squirming Renzo. He watched as his tiny feet kicked and danced in his red and blue "Spider-Punk" onesie Hobie knicked from his world. You watched as his small grin turned into a full grin and his waterline pricked with tears.

"Don't cry, Hobie."

"'m not."

[system-of-a-feather]

Possibly a hot take but once you get to the point of final fusion / functional multiplicity and you've been in it for a while and that becomes your normal, you REALLY begin to realize that they're really the exact same thing but with different perspectives and preferred language used

And like that means A LOT to some people and thats 1000% valid and the perspective and language can wildly change the experience and how individuals approach it themselves

And just to make it clear for those that tend to read the worst in posts, I'm NOT saying this to be like "oh all functional multiplicity is is really just final fusion and functional multiplicity doesn't exist" or "final fusion is really just functional multiplicity in denial" because that isn't what I'm saying. I am NOT saying one is the only real one and the other is just The Real One But Wrapped Differently.

What I am saying is that the difference of whether I am "at final fusion" or "at functional multiplicity" is a lot less of a wide gap of "two opposite recovery goals" and a lot more of a handwave at which connotation and set of implications on how we relate to ourselves seems more applicable to our identity at the moment.

The difference between them a lot less of a cavern and a lot more like sand in an hourglass and throughout the day I'll identify more with final fusion one hour and functional multiplicity the next and really NOTHING changed in my system. No one split or anything, I just perceived myself in a different angle.

Like at this point, from my perspective in late stage recovery of DID, I personally see it as extremely nonsensical and needless for me to try to say which one I'm at because they are literally just different sides of the same coin. If I'm holding a penny, I often just say I'm holding a penny and saying "I'm holding a penny with the head side up" is only really important when I'm flipping the coin or trying to describe it to someone with visual impairments. As long as there is no real purpose for me to specify, its all the same to me

And of course, I remember NOT being in late stage DID recovery and what not so I absolutely understand the importance and value of both labels and the distinction and I absolutely support them being discussed as separate things because I do think it serves as a good and simplified framework to help people understand the different ways recovery and healing can work for individuals with DID and start thinking about what recovery and healing might mean for them. They're both REALLY good templates and if one is adversive to someone, the other is probably less adversive. Either way, they're both very good starting points on building your idea of recovery.

That's all just to say whenever I see people talking about Final Fusion VS Functional Multiplicity, I just scratch my head as someone who is at both and has been at both for something approaching a year I think now.

Anyways if anyone wants to ask anything on either and/or both final fusion and functional multiplicity or just general late stage DID recovery, feel free to send an ask. I'd love to chat about it, I just am honestly so unbothered by having DID at this point that I am never really prompted or inspired to write about it much anymore.

[satorugojjo]

I’ve been a PJO fan since the very first book in 2005 and in the past I’ve imagined Annabeth the way the official art has portrayed her for the last 17 years but in my COTG read, I’m just absolutely loving the fact that the show version of her now makes up 50% of my internal image of her while reading - Annabeth is so ICONIC in both versions

so I don’t understand the excuses people are making for Leah’s casting “ruining the characters image” bc like… how? What does skin colour have to do with anything when Annabeth’s telltale features is the colour of her hair and eyes (and the actors are too young to be subject to both rn) and your internal image can include blonde hair and grey eyes for any race you imagine her in so easily

We as a fandom HC’d Percy as POC for almost 2 decades but almost nobody is complaining the other way around? No matter what Percy’s ethnicity was, we would all just imagine him to be black haired and green eyed ANYWAYS while reading.

This isn’t a well written rant but my point is that no one here is gonna cancel someone for saying “oh my internal image of annabeth while reading is still gonna be her official art version but I’m 1000% on board with the show version of her as well and both versions spring to mind when I think of her”. We just think you’re kinda shitty as a person if you say you can’t accept Leah especially when I don’t see this kinda hate against Walker or Aryan AND when the entire fandom is filled with longtime fans saying that they think of both OG annabeth and Leah’s annabeth almost equally when you ask them to picture her as a character.

Racism in the PJO fandom is always the most nonsensical thing cuz like they’re literally children of gods who can change their appearances at will so like literally any race works for any character smh

[tilly-tilly-2827]

Be BOLD!!

The absolute nonsense inspired by @redpensandgreenarrows

Synopsis: Sometimes being bold isn’t the best way in a relationship. Or the little Drabble about Benedict Bridgerton being bold in the modern AU.

Ao3 post from here!

“And then he said “But you’re not even my girlfriend.””

“Wait, what?”

“I KNOW!” Sophie crossed her arms in frustration. “Six months, Kate. Six months he’s been fucking me. And when he said that, I just lost my mind,”

“Why didn’t you ask him sooner?”

“Because I thought we were dating! He took me to a private gallery last month. A private candlelit dinner at the Swan London? Sending Flowers every day to my office?

“Isn’t that actually pretty sweet of him?”

“Exactly.” Sophie took a swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning her throat, “He invited me to Christmas for a family dinner. I teach his sister French every Wednesday evening. Hell, he lets me use his Netflix account. We share my audible password!”

“That is deep, Sophs.”

“And do you know what he said to me? When I asked him how he labeled the relationship?”

“I’m too scared to ask.”

“He said, “intimate fuck buddies”?”

“He DIDN’T?”

“Actually, he did.” Sophie popped a handful of popcorn in her mouth. No, she wasn’t going to care about her three months’ worth of diet, “Two times in my face, just to be clear.”

“That is terrible, Sophs.” Kate shook her head, not quite processing the utter mess her best mate had been in. “That guy should be hanged.”

“I mean, he has a nice dick but that doesn’t justify him to act like one does it?”

“Um, Sophie. Slightly TMI? You know he’s still my brother-in-law. I don’t want to picture his privates when I meet him tomorrow,”

“He does also have really nice abs.”

“I really didn’t need to hear that.”

With her nose scrunched in disgust, Kate turned on the Telly, pressing the movie thumbnail in one swift motion. For her best friend since high school, Kate had organized a movie night for Sophie; an ultimate Richard Curtis movie marathon.

“So, you are going to stop sleeping with him?”

Kate asked, watching Hugh Grant and Scarlet hop on the Mini 1000, sprinting down the highway of the English countryside.

“Well…yes.” Sophie said rather uneasily, nervously twitching her fingernails, “I mean, if I keep sleeping with him, I don’t think I will ever get married,”

“Is he that good?”

“So GOOD.”

“Ugh. Gross.” Kate muttered. “So you just kicked him out in the street last night?”

“Mmm.” Sophie nodded, indulging herself in M&Ms. “Kicked his ass out from my flat at 2:00 in the morning.”

“Pretty bold for you, Sophs. I’m proud of you,”

Kate looked at her with an impressed nod, but Sophie only returned her a lopsided grin, a somewhat dimmed look in her eyes.

“I felt bad, but.”

“Sophie, the guy deserved it. You did nothing wrong.”

“Mmm.” Sophie took another grasp of popcorn, “I guess I’m handling this pretty well. Just this morning, I left a box of his stuff in front of his apartment.”

“Stuff?”

“You know, the usual. Condoms. Boxers. Old-T shirts. Books. Toothbrushes. Oil paintings.”

“Oil paintings?”

“Mmm.”

“Who would leave an oil painting in a fuck buddy’s room?”

“Come on Katie, he’s an artist. He can’t help himself from showing off his talents.”

“Odd.”

“Actually, it is kind of sweet.”

“How so?”

“He,” Sophie stopped for a moment, hesitating for a brief second, “He…he sometimes gives a painting of me. Sometimes a sketch. After spending a day in the park or a museum,”

“Huh.”

“And he’s really good. You know.” Sophie softly said. “And I thought; maybe this was his love language?”

“Mmm.”

“But I guess I was wrong,” Sophie sighed, “Really, why do I have such bad instincts about men? Is it because of my daddy issues?”

“Let’s leave that for therapy, Sophs.” Kate passed her a glass of wine, pointing at Hugh Grant flirting with Andie MacDowell. “But it is kind of absurd. A guy who causally comes to fuck you and leaves you with an oil painting? He’s got some issues,”

“I know.” Sophie sighed, “He’s got daddy issues as well, so two peas in the pod,”

Both Kate and Sophie continued their marathon of  Richard Curtis’s movies. Both were in tears at the funeral scene of Gareth, crying in their pillows as Matthew recited W.H.Auden’s “Funeral Blues”.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

“I really thought this was going somewhere.” Sophie quietly said.

“Gareth and Matthew?”

“No, Ben and I”

“Right, right, right.”

“He was actually really sweet,” Sophie continued, “Maybe I was a coward, Kate. I was afraid to be the first to say I love you,”

“Wait.”

“What?”

“Are you hearing this?”

“No,”

“A tapping noise.” Kate looked over her shoulders, a slightly spooked expression, and Sophie did hear the noise as well, a dull clicking sound from the window. “Could it be ghosts?”

“No, it’s probably the curtain railing. Give me a minute to fix it up,”

But it was not the curtain railings.

In fact, it was Benedict Bridgerton, her fuck-buddy, standing under the lamppost.

Leaning over his Chocolate Brown Mini 1000 MK5, the one he had bought the day after she told him that Four Weddings and A Funeral was her all-time favorite,

The one that only goes forty miles an hour,

And Benedict Bridgerton looked devilishly handsome. Dressed in a tight black T-shirt and his usual black jeans. His brown curls ruffled wildly as if he had run his fingers through too many times.

Sophie would say he was more charming than Hugh Grant in the 90s,

However, the fact that he was throwing rocks at her window was not so charming.

Well, pebbles to be exact.

At Midnight. Her flat was on the third floor.

Had he lost his mind?

But as she popped her head out of the windows, Benedict’s face turned into a lopsided grin, as if he were over the moon to see her face. Opening his arms wide as if he were trying to catch her,

“SOPHIE!! MY LOVE!!”

Sophie decided to close the window, shut the curtains, and ignore him. Considering his slurred speech and his flushed face, he was probably drunk. Very, very drunk. Although it very much concerned her that highly intoxicated Benedict Bridgerton had driven to her flat, she shook her head, trying to wave her worry away.

After all, he was just a fuck buddy.

She held no responsibility for his well-being,

“Sophie? Are you alright? You’re going to miss Hugh Grant’s Wedding.”

“Mmm.”

“…Please don’t tell me the man holding a stereo over his shoulder is my brother-in-law.”

“How I wish I could tell you that it isn’t.”

Sophie heard a familiar tune from the distance, presumably from the stereo; the MultiTech vintage boom box from the 80s. The bright blue one he inherited from his father. Some nights Benedict and Sophie would spend all night diving through the cassette tapes; singing the old British BOPs, Duran Duran, Frankie Goes to Hollywood, Culture Club, Human League,

“I’M LYING ALONE WITH MY HEAD ON THE PHONE, THINKING OF YOU TILL IT HURTS,”

…And of course, he would start singing,

“Sophs, aren’t you going to stop him?” Kate asked hesitantly, peeping through the curtains, “If he keeps going on like this, he’s going to wake up everyone in London,”

“Kate, that guy is stubborn as a rock. He’s probably not going to stop until he finishes the whole thing,”

“I’M ALL OUT OF LOVE, I’M SO LOST WITHOUT YOU, I KNEW YOU WERE RIGHT BELIEVING FOR SO LONG,”

“What is this song anyway?”

“All out of Love. Air Supply. From the 1980s Album Lost in Love. Their fifth studio album that marked over three million sales earning their first multi-platinum,”

“I totally forgot you two were music geeks,”

“WHAT AM I WITHOUT YOU, I CAN’T BE TOO LATE TO SAY THAT I WAS SO WRONG.”

Sophie buried her head in the cushions. God, she wanted to seal wax her ears shut,

“Kate, how drunk do you think Benedict is?”

“I have no idea. Wait, I think I can see Colin eating popcorn in the driver’s seat,”

“I WANT YOU TO COME BACK AND CARRY ME HOME.”

“Sophie, do you understand that this guy is absolutely pathetic?”

“I’M REACHING FOR YOU, ARE YOU FEELING IT TOO, DOES THE FEELING SEEM OH SO RIGHT.”

“Do you think I should call the police?”

“…I don’t really want to bail my brother-in-law from jail, Sophs.”

“AND WHAT WOULD YOU SAY IF I CALL ON YOU NOW AND SAID THAT I CAN’T HOLD ON.”

“PLEASE LOVE ME OR I’LL BE GONE.”

“Kate, I do actually love him,”

“Oh, so you’re insane as well?”

“OH WHAT ARE YOU THINKING OF? WHAT ARE YOU THINKING OF.”

“I think I’m going to tell him.”

“Do you need a knife?”

“I think I’ll take the frying pan.”

By the time Sophie reached down the stairs, Benedict was at the last verses of the song, singing out of his lungs; “I’M ALL OUT OF LOVE, WHAT AM I WITHOUT YOU, I CAN’T BE TOO LATE TO SAY I WAS SO WRONG”

“Benedict,”

“SOPHIE,”

Although Sophie was only three feet away from him, Benedict Bridgerton the utter drunk, did not lower his voice.

“I KNOW WE HAVE REALLY GOOD SEX!”

“Christ,” Sophie buried her hand into her hands, Why did he declare it in front of everyone?

“BUT ITS NOT JUST THE SEX, SOPHIE.”

“YOU COMPLETE ME, SOPHIE. YOU AND I, WE ARE SINGLE SOULS INHABITING TWO BODIES. AND I WOULD USE MY LAST BREATH TO TELL YOU THAT I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU, SOPHIE. AND I WANT YOU TO MARRY ME,”

At that point, Sophie slapped him across his cheeks. She heard a gasp from the whole apartment, and Colin finally stopped his hands on the popcorn.

At least she didn’t use the frying pan, Kate thought to herself.

“I’m not looking for boldness, Benedict Bridgerton.” Sophie said quietly, “All I’m looking for is sincerity and some fucking decency.”

“Give me those two, and then I’ll start considering your proposal.”

#Writer's Notes

@redpensandgreenarrows, you feed my nonsense

[alwaysbethewest]

Triple Frontier fic: Put Yourself in My Place

It's a fishben body swap fic 🤷‍♀️ This is for the @pedrostories 1000 follower celebration 🥳 I was browsing the prompts last week and felt a little overwhelmed by how many great options there were, but when I saw body swap listed in the tropes I knew that was what I had to choose. I also worked in two of the dialogue prompts but I don't want to spoil which ones.

Title: Put Yourself in My Place Pairing: Frankie Morales/Benny Miller Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3.1k Content/warnings: Friends to lovers, body swap, big dick Frankie, oral sex, anal sex (the sex is while body swapped, just to be clear), mysterious magical objects, Pope gets threatened with bodily harm, brief cameos by Frankie's ex-wife and daughter, food, just absolute nonsense. Unbetaed (please let me know if you spot any typos!) I had a lot of fun writing this, lol, so I hope it will be a fun read.

The phone buzzing on the nightstand awakens Frankie. Groggily, he grabs it and checks the caller ID.

It’s a glitch. His own image fills the screen, an old picture of him with the baby sitting on his shoulders, matching sunglasses and baseball caps atop their heads. She’s grabbing his hat, twisting the brim so it’s nearly covering one eye, and he’s trying to keep a straight face for the camera as Benny gets the shot.

In his half-asleep state he’s so distracted by the picture that the call times out, only to start up again vibrating in his hand. This time he notices the caller’s name: 🐠Fish👨🏻‍🦱. Someone’s fucking with him.

He hits answer.

“Very funny,” he mumbles into the phone. His voice sounds strange in his own ears and he clears his throat.

“Dude,” the caller says, urgent. The voice is familiar but he can’t place it. “This is fucked. Up.”

“Who is this?” Frankie asks. He still sounds off and he’s got a bad feeling brewing down in his gut, well-honed instincts starting to scream for attention as he blinks fully awake. Something isn’t right.

The walls are the wrong color. Sunlight is filtering in from the right instead of the left. There’s a poster of Georges St-Pierre hanging nearby.

He’s in Benny’s room. In his bed.

Had he blacked out last night? He could swear he’d gone to bed in his own house.

“Dude,” the man on the phone says again. The voice almost sounds like— “It’s me.”

—himself.

Frankie closes his eyes. He’s starting to feel a little lightheaded.

“I don’t understand.”

“Francisco,” the voice says, “Go look in the mirror.”

Dumbly, Frankie stands and steps in front of the full-length mirror mounted on the wall by the closet. He looks at his reflection—and finds Benny’s shocked blue eyes staring back at him.

“I’m you,” Benny tells him, in Frankie’s own voice. “And you’re me.”

“What the fuck,” Frankie breathes. There’s a moment of silence between them as he tries to absorb the vision of himself standing here in someone else’s body.

“You know whose fault this is,” Benny starts.

Frankie blinks, curling Ben’s long fingers into a fist. He thinks about it, just for a second.

“Pope,” he says. There’s a sigh on the other end of the line.

“Fucking Pope,” Benny agrees.

Benny-in-Frankie’s-body drives Frankie’s car over to his own apartment, where Frankie has the bizarre experience of opening the door to find himself standing in front of him. After a brief discussion in which Benny insists he probably could fly a helicopter, no problem, Frankie puts his foot down and hovers over his shoulder as Benny calls him in sick to work.

Then they get Santiago on a video call. He’s sitting at his kitchen table and he answers them casually through a crunchy bite of cereal. “Hey, fellas. What’s happening?”

“You’re an asshole,” Benny tells him flatly. Pope raises an eyebrow and takes another bite of cornflakes, waiting for elaboration.

“I told you there was something hinky about that shit you had us moving yesterday,” Frankie says, “and you swore up and down everything was fine.”

Pope tilts his head, confused. “I thought it was just Fish who was complaining about it. You didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly,” they say in unison.

“It was Fish,” Benny says.

“Me,” Frankie continues, pointing to himself. He gestures between them. “We woke up… like this.”

“I think I’m missing something, boys,” Pope says. He sets down his spoon and picks up a mug from the table.

“We fucking swapped bodies,” Benny exclaims, and the whole thing is almost—almost—worth it to watch Santiago choke and splutter on his mouthful of coffee.

“Okay,” he says, still coughing but mostly recovered. His eyes shift uneasily. “Okay, uh. Okay. I need to make a phone call. Do you… do you remember anything you… touched?”

They’re both silent for a beat, staring at him like he’s stupid.

“We touched everything,” Frankie says finally. “That’s the point of moving shit from point A to point B.”

“Right. Okay. Right.” Pope lets out a nervous laugh. “It’s probably—I’m sure this is going to be fine. I need to call—” and he’s hung up before he can even finish the sentence.

Fucking Pope.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?” Benny asks.

They’re still at his place. Pope had texted a little while after their phone call, Looking into it. Sit tight. Maybe an hour, and then, like a coward, left them on read when they’d replied with more questions. Frankie has been spending the time rifling through Ben’s kitchen—his metabolism is higher in this body and once he’d gotten past the initial shock of their situation he’d been hit with the kind of hunger he hasn’t felt since his active service days. Benny has spent most of the time looking at his own reflection, poking and prodding at his face and fussing with the texture of his hair.

(“What if I shave my head while I’m you?” he’d mused earlier.

“What if I rob a bank while I’m you?” Frankie had countered.)

Now, Frankie stares at him over his bowl of oatmeal. “I don’t think I heard you right,” he says.

Benny stretches a leg out to hook under the crossbar of the chair across from his, looking annoyed when he doesn’t quite make the distance. “I’m not short,” Frankie says preemptively, for the third time this morning. Benny pulls a face.

“No but—haven’t you ever wondered what it would be like to sleep with yourself?” he asks earnestly.

Frankie looks at him—at his own face, the full curve of his bottom lip and the broad stretch of his shoulders under the old t-shirt Benny had put on—and he does start to wonder. He clears his throat, shifting his weight.

“I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Well. I’m just saying. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

“Unless we’re stuck like this forever,” Frankie says, and Benny gives him a look that says that’s not helping.

“Maybe if we come at the exact same time it’ll switch us back,” he suggests.

“Benjamin. What??”

Benny shrugs, but he’s laughing, too. “If I was an ancient evil wizard cursing an amulet that’s how I’d configure it. Just to fuck with people.”

Frankie shakes his head at the absurdity of this entire day, and the last two minutes in particular.

But—

“Amulet?”

Benny’s eyes shift.

“I just thought—remember? We touched it at the same time when I was showing you the design. And it had that inscription we couldn’t make out.”

“Jesus,” Frankie says. “Yeah. You didn’t want to mention this earlier?”

Benny shrugs. “I didn’t think of it until just now.”

Frankie unlocks Benny’s phone with facial recognition and texts Pope again. We think maybe it was an amulet?????? Blue stone w strange writing around edge. Tarnished chain.

Together, they stare at the screen for a minute until Pope sends back a thumbs up reaction.

“I swear to god,” Frankie says, “If he doesn’t get us switched back I’m never speaking to him again.”

Benny nods distractedly and drums his fingers on the table. It’s as if the movement catches his own attention, because he looks down and rubs his thumb over the bullseye tattoo on his hand.

“So do you want to?” he asks. Frankie cocks his head and Benny offers up a vague, filthy gesture by way of explanation.

“You want to blow me?” Frankie interprets. He’s still not sure if Ben is serious or just fucking around. But his response is an enthusiastic nod, warm brown eyes widening earnestly, and Frankie feels a hit of arousal course through him.

He hesitates. “Wouldn’t it be kind of… narcissistic?”

“So what? When has a little narcissism ever hurt anyone?”

Frankie laughs out loud. “Well—for one, there was Narcissus.”

Benny is already sinking to his knees.

“Wait,” Frankie says. “Don’t do that.”

He hesitates, looking chastened.

“You’re gonna fuck up my knees,” he tells him.

“Old man,” Benny grumbles, but he carefully gets to his feet and heads down the hallway towards his bedroom.

And Frankie gives in and follows.

Benny takes a long time getting acquainted with his dick before he ever gets it in his mouth. He’s touching it lightly, moving it around, inspecting it from every angle. He runs his fingertips down the length, making Frankie tense up and shiver.

“It looks different from down here,” he observes. “Never realized that vein looked like that.”

When he finally does it—

Well.

It’s surreal watching his own mouth close around the head of his cock—like watching a porno of himself. He’s holding his breath, and it comes out shaky when Benny works his tongue over the tip.

Benny’s gaze flicks up to meet his and they lock eyes. Frankie lets out a breathless, nervous laugh and it sets Benny off laughing too, a shared moment of euphoric insanity, but then he surges down onto the length of Frankie’s cock again and Frankie’s no longer laughing.

He’s called Ben a cocksucker before—a crude, boys will be boys insult among friends, and Benny’s called him worse things in return with no hurt feelings between them. Now that it’s come true, he’s surprised to find Benny’s not half bad at this. At least, not while equipped with Frankie’s mouth. He can’t help but wonder if they might do this again so he can compare, if they switch back.

When. Not if. Under the haze of arousal that’s overtaken him, there’s still a knot of anxiety sitting in the bottom of his stomach, distracting him.

Ben presses a knuckle behind his balls, nudging into the space there and using his other hand to push Frankie’s legs open like he wants to reach back further. Frankie hesitates, shifting away, and Benny looks up at him.

“Uh—that doesn’t really do anything for me,” Frankie explains.

“What d’you mean?”

“Like…” He wiggles his forefinger. “Anything with my ass. My ex tried to finger me one time because she said it was going to be the best orgasm of my life and it just—felt like a visit to the proctologist.”

Benny is silent, looking at him thoughtfully from between his legs. Frankie’s cock is starting to feel neglected.

“What if… since you’re in my body, it feels different this time? Can I try?”

Frankie shrugs his assent.

It turns out that, kind of like the active metabolism thing, the nerve endings in Ben’s body are sensitive in a way Frankie’s not used to.

“I’m so—fucking jealous of you,” he gasps, when Benny has two thick fingers buried deep inside him. “I never knew it could feel like this.”

“I knew you’d like it,” Benny says smugly, a little muffled with his mouth hot against Frankie’s balls. “Do you wanna find out what your dick feels like?”

With Benny’s fingers inside him and his face between his legs, Frankie feels tingly all over, almost dizzy from it so that it takes him a moment to answer the question.

“I—yeah, kind of. That’s weird, right? This is weird.”

“Super fucking weird,” Benny agrees with a laugh. It’s funny to see his smile lighting up Frankie’s face. He wonders at it, while Benny’s focused on grabbing the lube stashed by his bed, trying to work out which parts of his face are his and what is Benny shining through. Transforming him into someone altogether new.

“Oh shit, that’s big,” Frankie gasps when Ben pushes into him, clutching hard onto his forearm.

Benny laughs silently. “How many girls have you heard that from before?”

“I always thought they were—stroking my ego,” Frankie says, breathing out a laugh. Benny grins, cheek dimpling.

“Try to relax,” he says. “I’ll go slow. Tell me if you want to stop.”

They’re not making love—that would be beyond the level of super fucking weird they’re already at—but it’s what Frankie would call this if they were a couple. Benny fucks him slow and careful and full and distracts him by leaning in for a kiss. It’s totally surreal, and somehow oddly comfortable at the same time, kissing his own mouth. Realizing he’s tasting Benny on his lips and deepening the kiss without even thinking about it. Feeling the anxious tension in his gut dissolving into something hot and dangerous, pleasure like the high of a drug.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers, and Benny makes a low noise in his throat and hides his face against his neck, tickling Frankie’s skin with the brush of his mustache. He closes his eyes and gives himself over to the waves of euphoria, and in the end, improbably, they do come together at the exact same time.

It doesn’t change them back.

Frankie’s phone lights up with a text. They both scramble to look, hoping to see Santiago’s name on the screen, but it’s from Laura, Frankie’s ex-wife.

Stuck at work, she’s written, adding a dismayed emoji. Any chance you’re able to do the preschool pickup and watch M for an hour or two? I can get her from your place.

“You’ll have to come with me,” he tells Benny. “They don’t hand over the kids to any random guy that shows up.”

His daughter grins when she sees them, but she falters as she draws closer, looking between the two of them skeptically like she can tell something is up.

“Hey, Minneola,” Benny greets her. She wrinkles her nose at the nickname and gravitates towards Frankie, who picks her up. There’s not even a twinge in his lower back, he realizes. He might be happy stuck in this body after all.

“You have a good day, baby?” he asks her. She rides comfortably in his arm, talking his ear off about the butterfly-themed craft her teacher had led the class in, and Benny saunters along beside them as they make their way back out to the car.

Whatever intuition his kid has that the man who looks like her daddy isn’t actually him today, her mother does not share. Laura barely spares him a glance when she swings by the house, a little flustered at the late hour as she collects her daughter and grills Benny on what he’s given her for her afternoon snack.

“Thanks again,” she tells him, leaning in to peck him on the lips, and she’s out the door again before she can notice the dazed expression on Benny’s face.

“I can’t believe I got lucky with two Moraleses in one day,” he says, when she’s gone. Frankie smacks him upside the head and then tousles his hair back into place, with a little more affection than he’d like to admit.

They’ve demolished an extra-large pizza and googled “body swap,” “body swap magic,” “body swap real,” “body swap historical,” and, in an act of desperation, “freaky friday real life,” to no avail when Pope finally—finally—calls them back.

“So my guy looked into it—” he starts.

“What do you mean, your guy?” Benny asks.

“My occult guy,” Pope says, as if that’s a thing. “The guy who owns the amulet you touched.” Frankie swears under his breath but Pope continues on as before. “So, it took him a while to track down the information about that exact artifact, but he found it and it’s good news.”

The ball of anxiety that has been twisting itself up in Frankie’s system all afternoon as the hours had passed very slowly begins to unwind.

“It’s like a 24-hour bug,” Pope continues brightly. “You’ll just switch back again by tomorrow. No harm, no foul.”

Benny and Frankie exchange a look that makes it clear they both still fully intend to exact revenge on Pope for putting them in this position to begin with.

“Between you and me,” he continues, oblivious, “this guy is a little out there—”

“No shit,” Benny says dryly.

“—he kept saying something about a ‘soul bond’ that I didn’t totally understand, but the final word was, like I said, everything will be back to normal.”

Soul bond is a heavy phrase to hear mere hours after having what was supposed to be very casual, platonic sex with a friend while he just so happened to be inhabiting your own body. Frankie feels Ben’s eyes on him and busies himself by gathering the mess of pizza-stained paper napkins on his coffee table into a single, scrunched up pile.

“Thanks, Pope,” Benny says after a moment. “If your guy is wrong, just so you know, we’re gonna kill you.”

“10-4,” Pope says, and makes quick work of hanging up the phone.

“Maybe I should sleep here tonight?” Benny suggests. “So we know it works. Like. In case there’s a… proximity thing,” he finishes lamely.

“Yeah,” Frankie says. “That makes sense.” It doesn’t, really, since they were in their own houses for the first switch, but he feels antsy with anticipation and, if he’s honest, he doesn’t really want to be alone right now. He thinks Benny doesn’t either.

The sun is barely risen when he wakes up, just dim light starting to break through around the edges of his blinds. His heart is racing, like the adrenaline rush when your body jerks awake from falling in a dream. There’s a dull ache in his lower back and a familiar curve to his nose when he lifts a hand to grope at his face. Next to him, Benny is back in his own body too, one long leg draped heavy over Frankie’s. He looks younger, asleep like this—deceptively innocent, Frankie thinks wryly.

Benny’s eyes flutter slowly open and Frankie can’t quite look away. They stare at each other for a long moment and Benny gives him a small smile.

“Well that’s a relief,” he murmurs, voice all early morning deep. “I was starting to miss your face.”

“Yeah,” Frankie says. “Me too.”

Benny’s smile widens and he rolls closer in the bed, face tucked next to Frankie’s shoulder and the whole length of his body pressed up against his side.

So just like that, just like Pope’s guy had said, they’re totally, completely, thoroughly, unquestionably, and entirely—back to normal. Not a soul bond in sight.

Benny’s hand finds its way onto Frankie’s thigh.

“I’m glad we switched back,” he rumbles sleepily. His breath is warm on Frankie’s skin, mouth nearly touching him. “But it was kind of cool, I guess, getting to be you. Anyway—now the next time someone tells me to go fuck myself I can say, I’ve been there, done that.”

“Jesus Christ,” Frankie groans, appalled at the bad joke. Benny laughs, setting his teeth into Frankie’s flesh when he tries to smother him with a pillow, and Frankie finds he likes that a little too much, so maybe—it’s a slightly new and improved normal, after all.

(mini taglist of a few fishben appreciators: @loversandantiheroes @littledozerdraws @littleferal @thirstworldproblemss @green-socks)

[philosophermalcolmtucker]

So I wanted to ask you more about your thoughts on David Blaize, what did you think of the book, anything you particularly liked about it? Favourite moments? And also, do you see any parallels with The Charioteer? Personally I am convinced it was a book Mary had in mind when she wrote TC and the parallels and contrasts fascinate me!

I haven’t reread the David Blaize trilogy in a while so pls forgive me my memory might be a bit rusty! But I still vividly remember Its sheer joy to savour the writing; a giddy pleasure to drink up the story. Every character is lovable in their own way.

There is a charming straightforwardness to Benson's writing capable of working absolute wonders. At times you feel you might be reading cricket match report (I definitely grasped all what I could understand about the game from this book🙈), but a boarding-school cricket review in the loveliest manner. Plenty of funny lines that cracked me up reading them. Yet you could always sense a touch of the poignant, bitter-sweet uncertainty of an unblemished coming-of-age idyll.

Favourite Moments:

THE BUN INCIDENT. I laughed so hard when first reading it🤣🤣.

And what can I say. All the intimate scenes between David and Frank, and the way the boys gush over each other, are extremely endearing AHHHHH----- That time when Frank sat by David’s bedside for straight 12 hrs and got him recovered?!! 😭💖💖

Parallels with The Charioteer:

1000% with you on that there are quite a few parallels between it and TC! Come on even the age gap matches! The straight, no-nonsense way both Frank and Ralph run the house (school), their collective inner self-loathing/doubt while in school, too. So are the ways in which Benson unobtrusively slips inschool homoerotic topoi -- an appreciation of hellenism, Swinburne, and poet icons like Shelley or Byron. (I seem to remember there was a school strike that pulled off in King’s which, sadly, Spud didn’t manage to.)

And the essential part of the book- the deep attachment and devotion between Frank and David strikes similar to me as well. In this book, consummation of same-sex desire, though never mentioned, features -- in the boys' own words -- as “filth”: if one falls prey to it, one should give it up or at least outgrow it. At least at Benson’s time that would be the official line. However, David and Frank are pictured as so thoroughly wholesome that after finishing you were left with a vague impression that any physical relationship between them would participate in that wholesomeness, enhance it, rather than defile it.

[saints-who-never-existed]

Bamboo, daffodil, mahonia, and papyrus for the flower ask game

Some loooong answers here, I'm afraid. I simply couldn't help myself! :)

Bamboo - Do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

Oh, 1000% percent yes!

The second I get home my jewellery is chucked in a box, my shoes hoofed into the nearest cupboard, my bra goes flying across the room like a slingshot to hit the floor with an audible thump, and my jim-jams are on for the evening!

Daffodil - Do you have siblings? If yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them?

I'm sandwiched in the middle of two brothers. We're close in age - one is two years older, the other two years younger and we get along great!

My big brother is a little more like me personality-wise, I reckon. We're both very solid and dependable sort of people whereas my younger brother, god bless him, is and always has been the flakiest, most chaotic wee bastard on the planet.

I'd say the biggest thing we all have in common is our sense of humour which is absurd, filthy, and pretty sick at times if I'm honest. We're especially big fans of creative insults often rich in word-play and so silly that they can never actually be taken to heart, just begrudgingly appreciated. It was my birthday the other week and I received some lovely cards from the pair of them - one calling me a "chuckling fuck-biscuit" and the other calling me, simply, "weasel-tits".

Call me crazy but I find a delightful sort of poetry in nonsense like that!

Mahonia - What place/thing/activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

Well, one thing I've always found hugely inspiring is nature in general and more specifically, the landscape around the loch near my home back in Scotland.

I've always been interested in mythology and religion and folklore but often found difficulty when it came to actually, truly believing in any of it. So I asked myself - 'Well, what do I believe in? What does inspire that level of devotion and ecstasy in me?' - and the answer was the land itself.

I was at art school at the time and found expression in planning and conducting a personal pilgrimage through several key locations around the loch. I created my own mythology of sorts weaving lots of different ideas and material together - fire and earth, stone and water, mothers, maidens and crones. My trek culminated in climbing my own personal 'Holy Mountain' - the highest in the region. And when I came down again, I made all sorts of things including a short film (which was shite lol), a series of sculptures in a variety of materials like stone, wood and wax, and the pièce de résistance - a pilgrim's guide/bible/grimoire.

I made the paper itself from scratch, I wrote the whole thing laboriously out by hand, and bound it lovingly together and it's still one of my favourite things I ever made.

Papyrus - If you put your ‘On Repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? What do you like about it/associate it with?

A lovely version of a song I've loved forever!

Not only is it just rollicking good fun, it's also a very entertaining challenge to see just how many verses you can add and how fast you can sing them before you run out of breath entirely!

It's a great song for drinking to but I discovered years ago that, oddly enough, babies also go absolutely wild for it? I think it's the rhythm and repetition they respond well to.

I've come to associate it with my nieces in particular as I have a lovely memory of singing it to them when they were younger. There I was - 4 month-old niece cradled expertly in one arm, lulled to sleep by my dulcet tones, and 5 year-old niece hanging from my other arm, spinning me round in an exuberant jig and having the time of her tiny wee life. <3

[springypaws]

Warning: the following content contains nonsensical rambling form a potentially delusional and very excited individual who talks a lot. Oh, and The Magnus Protocol spoilers until the meginning of episode 7 (because I was too giddy to continue it tonight).

Okay so I know that starting the Magnus Protocol, my main focus should be the new characters and such, but I genuinely can’t get the fact that Jonny and Alex are playing the voices of two “text to speech programs” that just HAPPENED to appear in this world, on this computer, for seemingly no reason, a year before this story takes place, which may align with TMA 200 and the fact that I can’t stop thinking these are 1000% Jon and Martin (even if they’ve been dubbed otherwise by Alice) and it’s impossible to get them off of my mind

ESPECIALLY IN EPISODE 7. WITH THIS NEW CHARACTER CELIA WHO I’M SO EXTREMELY SUSPICIOUS OF, WHO WAS ASKING WHAT THESE VOICES TALKED ABOUT STATEMENT WISE OR HOW THEY WERE THERE AND MENTIONED HOW THE VOICES BROUGHT BACK MEMORIES/REMINDED HER OF SOMEONE WHDHEJJDJDGGGRGGGHHH I’m genuinely going feral

And all of this focus on the potential (and what I’ve convinced myself to be very, very likely) canon presence of Jon and Martin in The Magnus Protocol doesn’t mean the actual story isn’t captivating so far. In fact, I’m extremely interested, and Colin is, at the moment, my favorite character (as I’m not counting Jon), even though he gives major “oh yeah I’m gonna die first” energy. I adore this grumpy AF man who drinks to cope when he can’t figure out why computers are fucking with him because there’s 100% no better coping mechanism.

So far, Alice may need a bit more warming-up to for me to like her as much as some of the others, but her character is already so intricate and interesting, even if I can understand where Gwen is coming from in her dislike for Alice (not that I necessarily dislike Alice, I just… well, as I said, need some warming-up to with her).

And, speaking of Gwen, she absolutely FASCINATES me. Like at first I thought she was the typical “oh I just don’t want to be here” type of individual, but having this attitude because of the fact that she’s impatient in her desire to grow in rank in the organization? I may have seen some similar character concepts, but for some reason hers really has me feeling like I haven’t seen it before. Not to mention the fact that she doesn’t appear completely hostile towards her coworkers, which is a nice diversion from the typical “oh ho I want your job” types.

I also think I like Lena quite a lot, actually; she might also be up there on my favorites so far. Obviously, I’m pretty sure she’s gonna be some sort of antagonistic figure in one way or another, but I genuinely feel like she doesn’t mean to be such to cause harm, or to follow some selfish goal (cough cough unlike a certain someone from tma 1 cough cough).

I’m a bit disappointed at Teddy leaving so early too, although I’m fairly confident he’s gonna show up again in some way or another— hopefully alive and well. It’s unlikely, but we can hope, because he’s just a silly little guy who doesn’t deserve to be punished for being what I imagine to be a big grizzly softy. I’m fascinated by his and Colin’s history and what they’ve experience together/know, but that’ll probably be discovered/explained soon enough.

OH AND SAM. I haven’t decided what I think of Sam yet, since I feel like we haven’t discovered much about him quite yet, but he seems silly and gives me major Cavetown vibes, for whatever reason. He would definitely own some kind of light olive green thing somewhere or something. He’s also a fool for falling for Celia because she’s absolutely not trustworthy and should not be crushed on but he’s just in love so it’s fine

[alex-unjust-vibing]

My sweet little Angelfish, Lately I’ve been seeing my Aquarium half empty instead of half full. I just wanted to write you a brief email message to stand apart from the school of bottom feeders with possible PCB’s, and tell you from the depths of my heart and soul that I'm an honest, caring, sensitive (I can cry at will), nice person with all the wonders and joys that come with those sparkling qualities that men find so irresistible these days. I will pledge my undying love for you, buy your affections till you hurl, call you ten times a day, followed by as many text messages as my plan will allow for the month (I’m pretty sure it’s 1000…pretty sure..). I promise to be as clingy as humanly possible, whine about my problems, listen to yours, and tell you how to solve them. I love holding hands (with you preferably) while prancing on the beach, buying you an ice cream (unless you’re lactose intolerant), reciting poetry, and daily affirmations to you. I absolutely LOVE laughing, more laughing,…and even more laughing till you slap me silly. I love cutesy pet names for each other, grocery shopping, picking out wallpaper, babies, puppies, kittens, clouds, birds, bees, gardening, and did I mention laughing? I won’t and don’t play all those silly games. I don’t even own an X-box or a Wii. I'll worship the ground you walk on..even if it's all over me. Please, Please, Please respond. I longingly await your reply while staring at my email inbox so I can whisk you away to Europe, buy you a fancy suit, ask you to be my husband, and give you the biggest rock you’ve ever seen to wear and backhand your jealous friends with (bling, bling!). Do not try to resist the feelings between us. It’s futile. No more searching these dark, treacherous waters for your Nemo. You’ve FOUND him! Congratulations and two points for you! So let’s stop this ‘flip flopping around on the carpet like a fish out of water’ nonsense and do this 'My lil Mermaid'! xoxo <(Those are kisses and hugs to you. I'm not playing Tic Tac Toe.) Sincerely, Your soul mate

I am not a fish. Perchance you have mistaken me for another?

[mentallyinvernation]

Trope Game

Ahh, thank you to the lovely @bazzybelle for the tag!!!

I'm not picky when it comes to tropes tbh (at least I don't think so haha) I'll probably read anything if I'm in the right mood.

Rules: How much do these tropes affect your decision to click on a fic?

-10 -> very dissuaded

0 - don't care either way

+10 -> very enticed

nope -> if it's a hard no and you'd never click on a fic with that tag or or you even have the tag blocked or you'd insta click out of the fic if it wasn't tagged

Bonus points for explaining the rating and whether it's conditional.

Age gap: +4 I'm not usually drawn to fics with major age gaps, but y'know, if the plot speaks to me I'll give it a go lmao

Codependency: +5

Okay in angsty scenarios yes please. It's about the trust. the growth. the tendernessssss.

Or! It's about the dead!dove whump of it all, and yes.

Obsession/Possessiveness, jealousy: +10

I WILL EAT THIS SHIT UP IDC. Less so obsession, but the possessiveness and jealousy? GOD. Sign me the fuck up. You've instantly won me over - especially if there's some kind of marking kink going on.

Dreamling are such sluts for this trope lmao

Opposites (grumpy/sunshine etc): +1000

ELITE. All of my favourite ships come back to this. You can't go wrong. Something something he was sunshine, I was midnight rain 

Enemies to lovers, Enemies with benefits: +100

Look it's about the sexual tension. Are they flirting? Fighting? Nobody knows. Everyone is too afraid to ask. It's about both characters pretending they're not in love with each other. It's about the oh-no moment when said characters realise they're in love with each other. It's the star-crossed nonsense of it all.

I love it. God-tier trope.

Friends with benefits: +4

Not really my go-to but I have read some fics where this is done SO well.

Sex to feelings: +7

Yes.

Fake dating/relationship: +8

I'm such a sucker for these stories lmao. Especially if one character knows they're in love with the other before agreeing to fake date. The point where the lines start getting blurry between what's pretend and what's not is just *chefs kiss*.

Friends to lovers: +7

I mean, I like this trope, it's pretty much the baseline of most fics I read. But you need more tropes for flavour. Admittedly I'm more of an enemies-to-lovers person. Well, no, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers. THAT'S where it's at.

However saying that, Dreamling does friends to lovers very, very, very fucking well.

Found Family: +9

GIB. I love all the found family tropes.

Hurt/Comfort: +10

Yesssss. Sucker punch me with angst. I'll thank you for it. Just burrito blanket me with comfort afterwards. I love this trope, especially if the character going Through It is a pathetic little meow meow anyway.

Love Triangle: nope.

Just not really my thing. I've tried a few fics that have done this, and every time it's ended with the author getting hate from readers who wanted a different ending with the other love interest, and the comment sections were just war zones. However that's my experience with the trope, so take it with a pinch of salt.

However, if it's a love triangle that turns poly, I fucking love that shit. Especially if they're all being idiots about it. Rating for that is: +50

Poly, open relationships: +10

The only issue I have with this trope is keeping track of everyone's arms and legs while writing smut lmao. Otherwise, an absolute god-tier trope.

Mistaken/hidden identity: +3

Uhhhhh, idk It really depends on the context for this one. I don't think I'd go searching for a fic like this, but if it's propped up by some other tropes I'd probably read it.

Monsterfucking: +50

No notes. Another god-tier trope.

Pregnancy: +6

This is a weird one for me. I like pregnancy fics if that's what I set out to read, but generally, if there's an unexpected pregnancy halfway through a story I lose a bit of interest. UNLESS we're working in omegaverse.

Accidental baby acquisition is always a fun trope as well.

Second Chance: +4

No strong feelings on this one tbh.

Slowburn: +100

YESSSSSSSSSSS. Make me stay up past 3am with my eyes burning, mumbling about how these two fuckers just need to get it together and kiss already so I can sleep.

Soulmates: +1000000

AND THEY WERE SOULMATES. *sobs*

There are so many creative ways to go about this trope, and I love all of them. And then there's the world-building that goes on in soulmate universes. Admittedly, I don't read these very often anymore, but when I do they always hit so good.

Tagging (but absolutely no pressure): @sleepsonfutons @spockandthings @mallory-x @meadowziplines @thranduilland @phinofthestorm @beauty-of-nyx @serenailith @janimoon

[heisen-shrine]

Hello everyone and welcome to the new and improved Heisen-Shrine!

You guys know the drill! Here I post all kinds of awesome self shipping things, and now I have six f/os and plenty of love to go around.

I can't believe I now have as many f/os as Henry the 8th had wives, but at least I haven't killed any of my guys...yet lol. I'm mostly a villain shipper, but I've dipped my toes into anti-hero territory over the years. Most of my F/Os are villains, and that's okay. They hate everyone else but they love me ^^

Meet my guys!

Karl Heisenberg- the main man! I married this man Halloween of 2022 and we're still going strong. We also have an adopted son, Nanaue from the Suicide Squad. Karl is probably the most prominently featured f/o on here, and I love him to bits. He's encouraging, sweet, makes cool stuff, and is really big about my own creative endeavors. We support each other and make everything work <3

Astarion- the vampire from Baldur's Gate 3, I absolutely adore him. Normally vamps aren't my thing but this guy's got me by the throat with his sass and unabashed honesty. He's the sassy pansexual boyfriend I feel everyone needs in life ^.^

Elijah Kamski- Elijah is admittedly more of a familial f/o rather than a romantic one. But even so he's important to me and seems to be the perfect brother figure. He's helped me through a lot of my own sibling related trauma and I'm really thankful for that. If you need practical or technical advice, Elijah is my go to guy :)

Otto Octavius- from the Raimi-verse spider-man movies. I've loved this man since I was a child, and he's the oldest of my f/os on here. Partly familial, Partly romantic, my relationship with Otto can be rather complicated. Sometimes we don't even really know what we are to each other and I feel that's okay. He's a great man and I love him so much ^^

Oswald Cobblepot- from the Reeves-verse batman. He's a little out of the ordinary for me but I find we just click. He genuinely cares about me and was there when I was going through a very difficult period when I first moved to this new town. In a way he's my backbone and I appreciate it a ton :)

Rabban- from the 2021 Remake of Dune. This is my most recent F/O. He got my attention about two or three years ago but I really wasn't sure where I stood with him. To a degree we're still figuring everything out. Yes while he's brutal, he's been oddly nothing but kind to me and has been there for me in recent weeks. He's very much interested in my world, and I'm very much into his ^.^

Be sure to read my Rules please!

1. This isn't a Fandom blog per se, but I'd appreciate no Fandom drama on here.

2. Please be nice to me and my guys, we're really just trying here lol.

3. Keep the thirst to a minimum. I get it my guys are good looking, but they're more than that. Feel free to ask them or myself anything.

4. I try to be respectful of other self ships. If I'm shipping with any character that my followers aren't comfortable I fully respect your right to unfollow and block if you need to. I have no desire to make anyone feel uncomfortable or disrespected. I personally don't mind sharing but I know there's a few people who want their f/os to be exclusive to them and that is ABSOLUTELY valid! If you need to leave/block the blog it's perfectly fine and I understand.

5. I don't tolerate hate of any kind. If your only purpose is to come on to this blog and be an asshole you can move right along.

6. I don't think I personally classify myself as pro-ship, I am normally ship and let ship but I do have limits. Yes I know the difference between fiction and IRL but for me personally it all comes down to taste if that makes sense. Self shipping is a spectrum, and I'm on the end of not shipping with people who are far younger than you if you're a grown person. Two consenting adults is fine, but I don't wanna hear some nonsense about how "Oh well this young looking character is actually 1000 years old" or wtf ever. If it looks like a duck, acts like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it's a duck, understand?

7. Speaking of ages, I am 30+. I honestly do not feel comfortable with people following me who are under the age of at least 20. It's nothing against anyone personally, but in my opinion if you still have teen at the end of your age, you're still a teenager to me. Granted I don't post adult content, but to be on the safe side if you're under the age of 20 please don't follow me. Thanks <3

8. Feel free to come on here and tell me about your f/os! I'm always happy to hear about anything you guys are doing together! I like to see others happy and how their relationships are going! If you need to vent, I'm always here too! I'd like to make more friends in this community.

9. Understand please that this is a side blog. If I follow anyone it'll be from my main blog, which is am RP blog. Heisen-Shrine isn't an rp blog per se, but I might post little funny/fun scenarios with my and my f/os, just general self shipping shenanigans

10. Just have fun, seriously. Life is too short to not enjoy things. Have fun, take it easy, and whether you use self shipping to cope or for some other reason, don't forget to have fun with it and enjoy just being with your f/os. They love you and they want you to be happy, and believe it or not, so do I <3 you deserve it

[voredere]

ok well you guys can enjoy squalor and minimalism if you want to. i however believe that we should simply live in a world where "luxury" is available to whoever wants it. and that's not even unrealistic-- the way poor and middle class individuals are priced out of certain things is ENTIRELY ARTIFICIAL.

edible gold? costs PENNIES (gold in general is only artificially valuable anyway). most "high fashion" is made of the same dirt cheap polyester as walmart clothing and produced at the same god damn factory. high end sports cars are made of the same materials and by the same factories as the consumer models. shiny rocks can be made in a lab for pennies on the dollar. there's definitely a settler colonialism conversation to be had about oversized homes, but factor in the abolition of the nuclear family and maybe all those extra rooms aren't so unreasonable. boats predate capitalism by centuries and don't have to be unsustainable to run. horses aren't as expensive as you've been led to believe either. sparkling water is fucking good, it's just that there's no reason for it to cost $1000, and you can absolutely get the same thing for less. that's not even getting into how the uber rich will appropriate items that started out as being by and for the working class and then price everyone else out (see: lobster. ribs. bbq. fucking breakfast cereal) or how often something is viewed as "rich lazy nonsense" when it's actually a disability accommodation the uber rich appropriated and made inaccessible on purpose.

i don't mean to sound confrontational, just that i think you're barking up the wrong tree by approaching this from an ascetic POV, instead of asking why these items are inaccessible in the first place.

it's not that no one should want luxury items or things that billionaires have made into status symbols, it's that those things should have always been accessible to the general public, and have artificially been made exclusive.

it is ok to want and enjoy nice things.

The hyper-wealthy need broken rules and abandoned morals/ethics to survive.