#this went under a cut because the post got way longer than intended lmao

[evtoine]

6, 23, and 64 for the tav asks!!

Tav Asks

6. What is your Tav's origin story?

Galinndan and Shandri met in their adventuring years, eventually building their own home in the middle of the woods, starting a family short after. The first of the children ended up being triplets, much to the surprise of both their parents. Alyona, Leyla, and Stella were thick as thieves growing up, caring after their younger sister Aisling and as well as the youngest, their brother Naeris.

All of Leyla's siblings seemed to have a knack for defending themselves—Alyona and Stella both became rangers like their mother, Aisling found joy and power in music, and Naeris was a dedicated follower of Mielikki. But Leyla? Leyla struggled. She was a terrible shot, her music didn't carry the same weight as Aisling's, and while she had an academic interest in the gods, she could never figure out one to devote herself to. Her father Galinndan tried his best to teach her the ways of the druids, and while she understood them, it never manifested as druidic magic like she was hoping.

Until she started receiving visits from someone in her dreams.

This friendly visitor never wore the same face, always appearing as different forest animals, though Leyla always knew it was them. This visitor eventually helped her connect with the druidic magic she'd been trying to find for so long. Though her father knew immediately that the source of her power was different from his own. (Mechanically speaking, Galinndan is a Land druid and Leyla was a Dreams druid, which is a 5e subclass!)

Leyla's new magic became a sore spot between her and her father. While they were pleased she had finally starting showing signs of magic, Galinndan didn't trust the source of it. While Leyla insisted she had learned it on her own, she and her father were often at odds with each other as a result of his distrust. And when Leyla received a vision warning her of danger if they were to remain in their secluded area of the woods, her family was forced to make a choice. They stayed, Leyla left.

She travelled for weeks, studying the stars along the way. Leyla only stopped into towns briefly when she needed supplies or desired a real bed to sleep in. She grew closer with her dream visitor during her travels, bringing joy to every town she stopped in, healing wounds when she could. She started to read more now that she had unlimited access to books, something she'd never experienced before but something she found she really enjoyed.

Eventually Leyla found herself in Silverymoon. She hadn't intended to stay long, but fate had other ideas for her. While attending a ball, she met Traven, a cleric of Ioun that captured her heart. She eventually decided to stay in the city, both to be with him and to study everything Silverymoon had to offer. It was here Leyla was captured into the Nautiloid. She still isn't sure if Traven survived. After her capture, Leyla lost her connection with her dream visitor, instead having to rely on the magic she had learned through books.

23. What is your Tav’s favorite moment they’ve had with their lover?

It's hard to pick, honestly. (Especially not being 100% certain on Leyla's romances lol.) But her intended romances are Gale and Halsin, so I'll pick one for each!

Her moment with Gale is an easy one. Even though the romance bugged in my first playthrough of the game when I'd intended to romance him, the scene where he creates the starry scene is so sweet, especially for Leyla. She had always loved the stars, and after travelling through the Underdark into the Shadow Curse, she was really starting to miss them. To have him create that scene for her... She almost cried, honestly. It was such a thoughtful gesture from him.

For Halsin, I imagine the two of them spend a lot of time talking about druid things together. Leyla missed her druidic magic, even though being a wizard might have suited her more. Eventually the subject of her dream visitor came up, and he was able to help her identify who it might be! She won't know until the tadpole stops interfering, probably, but it was nice to have some answers on who they might be after all this time.

64. What Tarot Card best represents your Tav?

Hmmmm a difficult one. She's gone through a lot of growth in her journey, so her original card is much different than the current... but overall? And this is a little on the nose, but probably The Star! It's a card that's deeply connected with hope, which Leyla had often clung to in her darkest moments. It's a reminder for herself that she's going to be okay. I love that the reversed Star also represents how Leyla acts when struggling, as well. She often feels like the entire world is against her, and just really... unsure. No hope or faith that everything will be okay.

The High Priestess is probably the runner up though! It signifies intuition/inner voice, which also feels very Leyla. Actually the more I read on this, the more I consider it? This question is way harder than I was anticipating...

If you've made it this far, thank you! I have so many thoughts about Leyla, so this was a joy. I probably wrote way too much about her backstory, but I'd been itching to do it anyways....

[burlesque-articulation]

So I recently went a little... Red-string-cork-board-wild for a very minuscule reason. Namely, I wanted to try and figure out if there was any evidence to back up the fanon of whether or not Graham Folger & Oliver Banks had ever been in a relationship for... Reasons.

To start with, I decided to relisten to MAG 003 just for a lil refresher on who the hell Graham even was (emphasis on the was, lmao). Now, the statement was first catalogued in 2007, but the actual events of the statement take place on 2005; first possible hole in the theory, because, in MAG 011, Oliver, under the alias of Antonio Blake, states that his relationship with "Graham" ended 8 years previous to when he gave his statement to the Magnus Institute, which was given in 2015; which means Oliver's relationship would've ended in 2007.

Why do I point this out though?

Mostly because during MAG 003, when Amy Patel has to chill in Graham Folger's flat due to being concussed, and in an attempt to reassure her, all Graham Folger says is "no worries, I'm gay ✌️" which, okay, that's reassuring, sure... But wouldn't it have been more reassuring to say, "Not only am I hella gay, but I'm also seeing someone." Now, sure, maybe because this is '05 and they don't really know each other that well, he probably thought that would be a little TMI, but then again I feel like "oh I'm seeing someone" is significantly less TMI then just flat-out coming out to someone. Either way, later Amy spends essentially weeks or months watching this dude, and he's always. Alone.

And when she described Graham Folger's flat, it didn't sound like a place TWO (2) people were sharing, it barely sounded like there was one person living there. (And Oliver mentions that he'd been in a SIX (6) YEAR relationship, with a shared living space). A little sus, but... Amy does also say that Mr. Folger spends an awful lot of time outside of his apartment so... Double life maybe? Perhaps.

-- Impromptu read more because this got longer than I intended! So the rest is under the cut --

But now let's take a long look at MAG 011, where Oliver, or Antonio if that's easier for anyone? Nah, let's keep it as Oliver— anyways, MAG 011 takes place in 2015, 8 years prior is 2007; but then.. 6 years prior to that, when Oliver's relationship with "Graham" would’ve started... That would've been in 2001 🤔 now why does that particular year ring a bell? Well, that's because in 2001 is when Graham Folger's parents passed away; which would MEAN THAT, if these two had ever dated, then either it would've been just after Graham Folger had lost his parents, OR, the accident would have happened during the start of their relationship. And I do hear that stuff like that either makes or breaks a relationship, so; hey, maybe they would've had problems from the start. Doomed to end before it began, y'know.

But this is what actually made me go back and relisten in MAG 003, again; because I wasn't 100% on that because for whatever reason I had the year 2003 stuck in my head, IDK. Anyways, it was while I was relistening to MAG 003, again, that I realized my timeline... Wasn't entirely correct. Because Amy Patel, yes she first met Graham Folger in 2005; but it was in September 2005; and the real meat of the statement doesn't start until about 4 months after that initial encounter— which means Amy would've started Graham-watching in Dec. 2005 or Jan. 2006.

You know what else I found rather interesting? In the closing comments for this statement that the Archivist gives us, the apartment under Graham Folger's name was sold in... Early 2007. I wonder... How closely that might actually line up with whenever Oliver Banks apparently ended his relationship with "Graham".

But let's loop back to the "Dec. 2005 or Jan. 2006" bit, because in the supposed timeline given to us in Oliver's statement (MAG 011), he and his "Graham" started having issues a year prior to the official break-up. Maybe that's why Amy never would've seen Graham Folger's partner, in the assumption that he had one, because they was havin' issues, so if Graham Folger had a partner, maybe they weren't hanging about too much.

Alternatively, maybe the real kicker, the Real end to this, alleged, relationship, was because things just started being Different around the start of 2006; say maybe around April? April 7th of 2006 if we want to get real specific. Maybe it was after that day that the relationship got just a bit too much.

Maybe, in the last year of this alleged relationship between Oliver Banks and Graham Folger, maybe Oliver tried to make things work, but there was just something so off about "Graham" so... Not-him, and yet this is still the man that Oliver looks at and remembers spending almost 6 years of his life with. But maybe things get just weird enough that, Oliver just does some digging, maybe he's looking for some excuse some reason for why Graham seems so different but so familiar. Maybe there was an update on the accident that happened (either before or after they got together) and it's having an affect on "Graham". Let's say he does this little research deep-dive while at work too. So he's just sitting at his desk, scrolling through old news, etc. etc, maybe checking new stuff, who knows. (And assuming that even digital scans of polaroids are also untampered) He comes across an old picture that, sure enough those are the Folger Parents, but who the hell is that dark haired teenager in the picture?

Now why would this be happening why Oliver is at work? Well, because in MAG 011, Oliver states that he had a breakdown at work that required him to take leave and supposedly helped to fuel his breakup which then left him on a friend's couch. Obviously it could actually be the other way around; that the break-up was the catalyst for the breakdown at work, but this is no longer a post about why Graham Folger and Oliver Banks weren't a thing, but rather a post on why it would hurt so much if they had been.

Because we're gonna switch gears now and take a peek from Not-Graham's perspective. Because what does Not-Graham, the Not-Them, want? Well, we know they like scaring and upsetting people, but Graham Folger isn't exactly a socialite and apparently didn't have enough of an outstanding presence that made him particularly rememberable. But you know what he did have? The table. The same table that the Not-Them really wanted to have smashed up in... MAG 039, I think (IDK main plot is just an entrée for me right now, not super important y'know). So, sure Graham Folger doesn't have a lot of people in his life, but he's got this partner that he was already having a rocky relationship with, so why not make that relationship even more unbearable on the other party? Just make it absolutely intolerable, in the hopes that the partner might just get fed up enough to do something irrational, like smash a table that apparently means just so, so much to "Graham". But in the end that doesn't work, because the partner just ends up dippin' out (side note: love the idea that Oliver is petty in the way that instead of destroying something that he knows his partner is fond of, he just like, sells the fucking table off instead, send the Not-Them on another wild goose chase to find it again, because that would be funny as fuck).

Regardless, around the beginning of 2007, the two will have broken up, and Not-Graham no longer has a reason to keep that flat so it gets sold, because the Not-Them either has the table and fucks off after that, or they gotta start all over again trying to find it, and Oliver cuts ties and starts crashing on a friend's couch.

It's circumstantial, sure. But when you really look at it... The timeline does actually match up pretty well, and I think that's pretty cool.

Anyways, that's all for now. Whether or not Graham Folger & Oliver Banks ever actually had a relationship in canon, who can say.

But if Oliver's "Graham" isn't Graham Folger, then who is it? Well, not to mix podcasts, but anyone here ever listen to The White Vault?

[glassworkspiderlilies]

giyushino week wrap up!

aaaaand that’s a wrap!! thank you to the moderators of giyushinoweek, and to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on/sent me asks about my fics!!

it was a wild ride to write 8 fics in basically a week or so; i keep saying the fics were hastily or frantically written but LMAO considering how little fic i put out nowadays and how long it usually takes me to write because i edit as i go (which means i take f o r e v e r ), i was seriously just screaming like I JUST GOTTA DO IT I JUST GOTTA GO WITH IT I DON’T HAVE TIME the entire time haha. it was really good to be able to just think of a thing and run as far as i could with it, though!! it’s been quite a long time since i was able to do that, and it was really nice to have a project to work on in the back of my head. <3

ideally, if i work myself up to it, i’d like to revisit all of these and spruce them up to post to ao3, but we’ll see. :’) 

under the cut is just some thoughts on my process during this and also writing each of the fics, if you’re interested! favorite prompt, the most difficult parts to write, what the fic was originally was, things like that. 

thank you again, everyone!! back to hibernation and occasional slow snail pace writing i go, haha.

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re: writing process -i tried writing a fic per day during the week before the actual event, which...kind of worked!! ideally, i was going to write a mostly complete fic each day, and then spend the week of the event editing each one before i posted it. what really ended up happening was that i partially wrote several, but not all of them, during the previous week, and then spent the week of finishing up, editing, or writing the whole thing more or less the day before the prompt was “due”, LMFAO. my weekday schedule is pretty structured because of work--I have maybe an hour or two of free time before i have to sleep--so i doubled down a bit more on the weekends. i know like it wasn’t imperative that i meet the “deadline”, but i really, really wanted to!! i figured i’ve written a fic per day for fandom weeks before so why can’t i do it again, but BOY i don’t know who i was back then. i mean, i still did it (yay!) but it seemed so much easier then?? either i was just writing more back then or less afraid or...something, or it’s just been so long that i don’t remember what i felt, LOL.

-i was really quite nervous in the beginning to post the fics, since again, they’re pretty hastily written and my usual writing process is much more “careful” and drawn out. but, it was also freeing as the week went on to just post and not worry, because the point of the week was to have fun, and not necessarily to write the best work i expected of myself within a limited time. (oh, how the perfectionist in me still hisses, though.) still, i’m glad people liked them, and even the extra notes that i just kinda spit out for some of them. :’) i do wish that some had gotten more attention than others, but those ones don’t show up in the tags and i’m not sure why, so. alas. 

re: the fics -confession: as of now, i feel pretty neutral about all of them, since i wrote them in a frenzy. at some point i’ll probably go back and read them and feel differently (and catch my mistakes! oh no!), haha. -a lot of them ended up being AU, which is...??? unexpected?? but i think it was just easier to put them in an entirely different setting, so i could play a bit more loose with their characters, haha. 

day 1 - glance (or hug) -this one...im pretty sure was one of the ones i waited until the last possible minute to finish up. it’s pretty basic event-wise, one of the few more regular slice-of-lifey ones for the week. it was surprisingly hard to get down the “movement” of it all; a glance is hard to describe in detail and in any other way, but i had really wanted to create kind of this...fleeting, almost nostalgic atmosphere in the back and forth of “he keeps looking, she keeps missing”, if that makes any sense. oof, it’s still hard to describe what i had wanted to achieve even outside of the fic!!

day 2 - soulmate (or family) -this one was SUPER HARD to write!!! originally i had wanted to go with a “A sees flashes of what B sees” soulmate prompt, because i figured that would be SO disorienting and would be fun to play with. but i ended up not being able to run with that one. i had also wanted to do the “soulmates write on themselves and the words show up on the other’s arm” idea, based off of what i had started in a 100 word drabble i did, but that deserved wayyyyyy more exploration and angst i was able to write in the time i’d allotted. i do like the “tattoo” soulmate aus the best, i think, and i did want to explore the one i did more, buuuut. alas. soulmates aus are something i prefer to read rather than write, i think, they can get so complicated!! 

day 3 - AU (or touch) -i’ve already made enough notes on this haha, but this ended up being a little too ambitious!! it wasn’t originally supposed to stop where it did, but i just...kinda got stuck and couldn’t bring myself to continue it, because i knew it would just keep going and needed more thinking out. so i just stopped it at the scene break, and hoped it would be decent enough. :’) surprisingly people seemed to enjoy this one most of all????? or maybe it was just the au itself that was a appealing, haha. regardless, i was surprised at the amount of notes this got!

day 4 - demon & wedding -soooooo this might’ve been my favorite prompt LMAO, like when i realized what i wanted to do for this day, i got excited because like, oooh yeah, pain. definitely wanted to go in on this to flesh out and explore various aspects more than i did, but i think of all the ones i wrote, i might be the most pleased with this one so far. 

day 5 - moon (or angst) -honestly, it’s a surprise i didn’t choose angst for day 5. writing about shinobu’s death would’ve been so easy, but i’ve seriously been putting it off since i started writing for kimetsu no yaiba. both “a blade of honey” and “if not cut at dusk”, which are my longer fics, were intended to be about shinobu’s death scene and turned into something completely different, and i ended up avoiding it for day 5 even though it could’ve been so easy. it’s denial, probably! anyway, shinobu’s MAD BOLD here. she would never. maybe. there’s two shinobus that i think about--the "usual” one, modeling herself after kanae, and one who’s more in line with her younger self/inner feelings. i think i went with the latter for a lot of these fics, because i didn’t have to be as careful with dialogue. giyu might’ve suffered character-wise, though, woops. but again, maybe shinobu would, in the vein that she wants to win and have the last laugh, haha. still, i feel more like she wouldn’t. :P oh, also, do you remember ages ago, when AMVs were still widespread, that scene that was everywhere in naruto where hinata’s bathing/training at the waterfall and it’s like really pretty and cool and stuff? yeah. that’s what i wanted this one to be, a little, LMFAO. genuinely surprised that people thought this one was pretty spicy!!

day 6 - kiss (or ocean) -confession: i wrote all of this while i was at work LOLLLL. it was a slow day, i promise. this might’ve been the easiest one to come up with, because the “quick, kiss me!” to escape situation is a classic. the characterization is preeeetttyyyyy loose here, but it was also kind of fun, honestly. my day 5 and day 6 run in pretty similar veins though, so i had kind of wished the endings were a bit more distinct from each other. 

day 7 - date (or crossover) -honestly i had wanted to do like, a soul eater crossover!! really i was planning out an au, but i think a crossover specifically has characters of two series interacting, and then i was Tired and was like, i can’t do that. crossovers aren’t something i usually read, either, so the planning got too complicated and i gave  up. the date idea was also one that came much later and one that i finished up last minute; i’d wanted to make it a little more cohesive and come up with better things for sabito’s list, but. eh. it got longer than i expected too! ideally there would’ve been more of the college life, and sabito and makomo. i thought about doing another additional notes for this, but there was wasn’t enough i had wanted to add on. really it was just the majors for them i’d been playing with--shinobu as a med student (possibly a minor in horticulture/botany, SOMEHOW), sabito & giyu as hydraulic engineering majors (sabito more on fieldwork, giyu more on research), and makomo as a marine veterinary student. shrug!! the lines of “you do realize we were set up, right” and “this was a date, tomioka-san” were the highlight for me, haha. and i’m inordinately fond of the title.

day 8 - halloween (or n*sfw) -sexy stuff isn’t my forte at all!!!! so halloween it was, but. i was thinking of skipping out on this one, and then was like, oh what the hell, you’ve come this far, of course you’re going to go the last leg, too. already wrote enough notes on this one too, but yeah, this one really was quick, and just barely meets the prompt, i think, lmao. ended up being more of a fantasy au, which was fun, though there was a lot left unexplored. ultimately just glad that i was able to come up with something for the last stretch. :)

please feel free to drop me an ask if you have any thoughts or comments! i’d love to hear your thoughts on the fics for the week, if you’d like to share. :) 

thanks for reading!!

[corvidmantis]

I saw Hozier live and then got very very lost, among other things

To preface, I am notoriously bad at navigation. I have the terrible combination of awful memory for directions in conjunction with the tendency to panic about going the wrong way and overcorrect.

Additional necessary information: my phone has a broken charge port, and I learned the hard way that fiddling with it enough to make it charge is much harder to do while driving than it is at home.  The rest of this is going under a cut, because it is a long story lol

I live roughly 2 and a half to 3 hours from Memphis, where I saw Hozier, and the drive there went mostly okay, except for the part where my phone died on the charger right as I entered the city, and I missed my exit and ended up in Arkansas.

I managed to pull over on a very sketchy gravel road and charge my phone enough to get directions back to the venue, and parking went smoothly!

The show itself was phenomenal, Jade Bird opened and blew my damn mind, then Hozier proceeded to put it back together and smash it again, then repeat the process a few times. I cried twice, made friends with the girls seated next to me, and had a spiritual experience when the crowd sang To Be Alone with him.

Post-show, however, my phone was very dead. I decided to sit in my car in the parking lot and charge it just enough to navigate back to the highway, since it’s pretty much a straight shot home from there!

Except my phone wouldn’t charge. Like at all. No luck. No dice. No nothing.

I decided to just go back towards the off ramp I’d taken to get there, and quickly realized that I would just get lost, and Memphis frightens me, so I went back to the venue, where I met @yayforpizza and @thrivenotsurvive, where they were waiting in the stage door line! They were nice enough to let me use a phone and look up directions, which I attempted to commit to memory, then got back on the road.

Except I fucked up somehow, and ended up in Arkansas again, but across a different bridge? Then I ended up in a scary part of Memphis and turned around and somehow ended back at the venue, where I went back to the line and presumably confused the living hell out of those two, since I’d only been gone like 15 minutes. 

At this point, Hozier came out to greet everyone, and I decided that I might as well hang out and meet him, since I was already there! He was very friendly (if clearly tired lol), and I wish I’d been less panicky, because I just shook his hand and said “the show was fantastic, I dont have anything for you to sign, I didn’t intend on waiting at the stage door, but I got very lost in Memphis,” but I was very unsure how I would get home, so that was something!

Then I borrowed @thrivenotsurvive‘s phone again and wrote down the directions, and left for the 3rd time, where I promptly realized that the exits didnt quite line up with what google maps told me, but gave them the benefit of the doubt and kept driving.

I finally realized that I was definitely in the wrong place and pulled over at a rest stop where a security guard told me where I was and gave me a map of Mississippi, then told me about an emergency vehicle path I could take to turn around in order to avoid driving 15 miles to the next exit, along with a warning that I would be taking it “at my own risk” and he “wasn’t telling me to go that way” since the police would pull me over if they saw me there (shoutout to him for the help lmao)

I did not get pulled over, i managed to turn back, and drove for a while, then promptly realized that I wasn’t actually sure where I was anymore, so I stopped at a gas station, where I was informed that I was in Southaven, and between the cashier and a random guy, they managed to direct me to Olive Branch, where I could get back to the right highway

Once there, I couldn’t find the turn onto the highway, so I stopped at another gas station, and a trucker who had just stopped took one look at me, exhausted-looking, dressed like I was returning from a party, clutching a map to my chest like a damn teddy bear, and said “you lost, kid?” then gave me extremely clear and concise directions to the highway

Obviously I ended up mixing them up and going the longer way, because of course, but I did end up on the highway!!!

I had to stop for gas and an energy drink like an hour from home because I was almost asleep at the wheel, and the cashier was clearly concerned for my well-being lmao

All in all, this trip should have taken 2.5 hours, and no outside assistance, but because I’m a dummy with a broken phone, it took me 5~ hours, a map of mississippi, not one but 2 impromptu trips to Arkansas, two gas stops, 6 different strangers’ directions, an energy drink, and also I met Hozier in the process.

Because my life is uhhhhhhh a mess

[artificialqueens]

Confessions: Part 3 (Trixya) - Sigyn

A/N: so it’s fully been like two years since I updated this so I imagine everyone’s forgotten it but I’ve started adding to it again so I feel like I might as well keep posting it despite the two year break…

I’ve made some slight edits to the first two parts and published them on AO3 as well so here’s a link to that

full disclosure, the next update is like two weeks away because I have deadlines I need to meet at school (but at least it won’t be two years lmao)

Katya has a confession to make.

There was a time when she was sexually attracted to Trixie Mattel.

Okay. Times, plural.

It wasn’t all the time, though.

Just sometimes.

For example, when Trixie was doing her makeup, ear splitting levels of Dolly Parton blaring in the background, and she’d done everything except her lips and looked demented by anyone’s standards. Katya couldn’t help but be attracted to her then.

Of course, she was also attracted to her when she’d put on the lips and the whole fantasy came together but that was to be expected. Trixie looked other-worldly when her makeup was done. In some ways so done up that she no longer looked human, in others so stripped bare and exposed. More human than Katya ever dared be.

She was also attracted to her when Trixie decided to forgo the coloured contacts she usually wore but that didn’t mean anything, Katya had always been a sucker for brown eyes.

Naturally, she was attracted to her when her face was completely washed clean and she donned a backwards baseball cap with some oversized t-shirt, not an ounce of pink in sight except for the stain around her lips that sometimes stayed for hours after she removed her lipstick. That was a side of Trixie she found particularly attractive, largely because it was how she was most comfortable, and perhaps partly because it was a side of her very few people ever got to see.

Often, she found that spark of attraction when Trixie told a particularly crass joke.

And, fuck, was she attracted to her when the Barbie fantasy was both contrasted and complimented by her tendency to scream her enjoyment, rather than laughing in a manner others might have found more acceptable.

Trixie never did anything by halves and that was perhaps what Katya found most attractive about her.

Pretty much every time Trixie broke the social norms, behaving in a way some would argue did not befit a young woman, Katya found the stirrings of attraction deep in her stomach.

But she wasn’t attracted to her all the time.

Not at all.

For example, she wasn’t attracted to her right now.

Katya is pretty sure she wouldn’t be attracted to anyone who woke her up before eight am on a Saturday.

“I’ve decided what my new year’s resolution is,” Trixie announced cheerfully, without so much as a greeting to give Katya a moment to adjust to the shift from being asleep to being expected to hold a conversation.

“Is it to buy a calendar?” She guessed, voice raspy with sleep, “as it is April and either too late or too soon to be making such resolutions.”

Trixie seemed unconcerned by this as she resolutely stated that “it’s never too late to begin the new year.” Katya decided not to challenge her on that. “And as a wise man once said, new year new me.” She paused as if waiting for Katya to either prompt her further or laugh but Katya didn’t really feel so inclined. She had half a mind to just go back to sleep and let Trixie have this conversation with herself.

Unperturbed by Katya’s lack of a response, Trixie soldiered on. “I’m embarking on a fitness journey,” she declared, as though she expected a deafening round of applause to erupt.

“Okay,” Katya drawled, still not having decided whether she was going to be a part of this conversation, “lets pretend that’s a real thing and that we both know what that means.”

“I’m joining a gym, I’m eating healthy, the whole nine yard, I’m embarking on this journey from today onwards, would you care to join me?”

Katya found herself thinking that if Trixie’s dream as a child had been to become a travelling salesman she was quite certain her sheer enthusiasm alone would have made her a roaring success. However, Katya had always been a hard sell.

“Absolutely not,” she replied, without remorse.

“Okay, well, I’m joining your gym so I wouldn’t be so quick to say no-“

“No,” she firmly interrupted, having already decided that Trixie’s apparent illusion that Katya would go in for any such thing needed to be nipped in the bud.

Trixie shrieked and though the loudness of it made Katya wince, she couldn’t help but smile at the reaction.

“When are you teaching again?” her friend asked instead of giving her the expended sales pitch that Katya was certain she had been gearing up for.

“I don’t know. You can probably find my hours on the gym website, did you have to wake me up for this conversation?”

“Absolutely,” Trixie replied, resolutely. “If you’re allowed to wake me up at 3 am on a weekday to discuss what a terrible place the world would be without laughter then I’m allowed this.”

Katya had no real argument to counteract that point as it really was fair enough. Instead she simply acknowledged Trixie’s good point, well made with a repeat of the thoughts that had come to her in the middle of the night, last week. “God, it would be such a terrible place though.”

“No,” Trixie stopped her, “we’ve had this conversation, now we’re having my conversation.”

Katya made a noncommittal grunt that sounded vaguely affirmative.

“Text me your classes and if I’m not there at least three times a week you have my formal permission to kick my butt.”

Katya snorted and responded, “what if I don’t want to kick your butt?”

“Since when have you ever denied an opportunity to come near my butt? I’m sure you’ll get a kick out of kicking it.”

Another grunt, more concrete in its affirmation this time.

“Okay, go back to sleep, you’re boring me. I’ll be there by noon to make green juices and a salad with you.”

Katya’s face screwed up in disgust at the very thought, “Ew, Tracy, no, you will not. I told you I refuse to be a part of your healthy road trip or whatever you dubbed it.”

“Fitness journey and I can’t hear you, I’m going through a tunnel!”

The line went dead before Katya could respond.

“Fucking bitch,” she muttered to herself, though the smile that always followed a conversation with Trixie was firmly in place.

Doubtful that she’d manage to fall asleep again what with the sunlight already forcing its way through her curtains, Katya seriously considered getting up and making coffee for several long minutes. Her musings only being cut short by her consciousness slowly slipping away as sleep dragged her back under.

When Katya next awoke it was to the simultaneous banging of her door and the ringing of her phone.

She didn’t know what year it was, much less what time but Trixie’s name flashing on her screen, paired with her ringtone, told her that ignoring the ruckus and going back to sleep was not a viable option.

Forcing her limbs into action Katya got up, grabbing her phone and accepting the phone call.

“If you damage my door, you’re buying me a new one,” she simply said in lieu of a proper greeting.

“You’ll have to take me to court over it,” Trixie replied though she did cease her vehement knocking which Katya considered a victory in and of itself.

“See you there,” she said, ending the phone call before opening the door to reveal a version of Trixie she had not yet had the pleasure of meeting.

Straight-from-the-gym Trixie apparently wore a pink velour jumpsuit, no makeup, her hair up in a ponytail, and radiated a tired kind of happiness.

Katya decided this Trixie was definitely one of the Trixies that she was attracted to.

“Move bitch, these are heavy,” Trixie squeezed past her, her gym bag slung over one shoulder, and carrying a grocery bag that looked about ready to burst, “we’re making goats’ cheese salad and scrambled eggs,” she called out behind herself, confidently striding into Katya’s kitchen.

Okay, maybe she wasn’t quite as attracted to post-gym Trixie as she’d believed at first glance.

Katya followed her into the kitchen, regardless.

“We’re making what?” Katya asked incredulously, “lettuce and eggs do not a breakfast make, we’re having toast.”

“It’s lunch,” Trixie stated, not even looking at Katya, “and you can have all the toast you want, babe but you won’t tempt me.” She dumped her grocery bag on the kitchen counter and removed her gym bag. Turning around she held it out, “can you put it in your room?” she asked, though it was clear this was more of a demand than a request.

Katya arched an eyebrow at her, “you can take it yourself.”

“I’m making you food, you’re taking my bag to your room.”

“Wow, you didn’t mention the new you would be a rotted cunt,” Katya laughed, taking Trixie’s bag, regardless.

The taller blonde shrugged with a smile, “the old me was, I don’t see a reason to change that,” turning back around to the counter she added, offhand, “maybe next year.”

It didn’t take them long to prepare the food. Trixie had brought an abundance of groceries intended to spruce up a salad and make it worth while, including grapes, walnuts, goats’ cheese, and honey. No matter how much she tried to persuade Katya (and perhaps herself) that this would make more than an adequate meal, Katya fried up some bacon and made herself two slices of toast to go with it. Trixie made faces at the meat, claiming that the smell caused by “carcass fumes” was infecting her salad and eggs, an argument that seamlessly carried on into their meal.

They were sat there, in the kitchen, Katya enjoying her substantially larger meal and Trixie trying not to feel envious of the white bread Katya was happily munching on.

“Dead pig,” she muttered, not entirely jokingly as Katya lined her bacon strips up on the piece of toast before piling on the scrambled eggs.

“I’d appreciate if you refrained from calling me names,” Katya retorted, lifting the piece of toast to her mouth and succeeding in making a right mess of both her plate and herself. “Besides,” she nodded her head towards Trixie’s plate, “cheese and eggs.”

Trixie gasped in mock offence. “Don’t you dare throw that in my face,” she said, “I can not accept my vegan fate at the same time as I embark on my fitness journey. I must first save my body, then save the planet.”

Katya just sat there smirking, they both knew she didn’t have strong feelings about veganism but Trixie did and so it was a decent card to pull.

“You know, you should try going vegetarian,” Trixie suggested in a way that was neither new nor hopeful. She’d long since given up on the idea that Katya’s moral compass, which was sketchy at the best of times, would somehow win out over the taste of meat. “Since you’re not saving your body, your schedule should be wide open to try and save the world. You know, try something new,” she shrugged.

“Why try new things when you can try nothing?” asked Katya around another mouthful.

Perhaps Trixie would have responded to that had there not been a resounding smack of what sounded like a person’s full body weight being slammed against Katya’s front door, followed by smothered laughter and the jingling of keys.

Trixie, her eyes wide, turned askance to Katya who simply rolled her eyes ever so slightly.

The sound of the door opening and swiftly closing was followed by a repeat of someone’s body hitting against it and laughter, half-swallowed up by kisses.

It wasn’t unheard of for Alaska and Sharon to turn up from some after party or other that had run through the night and well into the morning in a slight state. They usually preferred Sharon’s apartment for that, given that space was her own and not shared with someone else but did, on occasion, come back to Alaska’s place, whether because of misplaced keys, lack of forethought, or the location of the party from which they were headed.

Katya was relatively unfazed by the ruckus currently coming from the hallway but a quick glance at Trixie assured her the feeling was not shared by her companion so she decided to intervene. She knew from experience that Alaska and Sharon had no problem experimenting with locations outside of Alaska’s bedroom and was doubtful the thought of checking whether the apartment was empty would occur to either of them, especially given that their mental state was likely to be altered by chemicals of the less-than-legal variety.

“Are you planning on only giving us the sound bite or are we going to be treated to the whole show?” Katya called out to them, prompting another fit of slightly muffled giggles and the padding of bare feet that made their way closer, relatively unsteadily.

Alaska appeared first in the kitchen doorway, leaning against it slightly. Her makeup was smeared, her clothing askew, and her pupils noticeably dilated. Her long, thin legs were exposed up to mid-thigh and perpetually bruised in a way Alaska had once told her accompanied the rockstar life… or the groupie life. Katya wasn’t quite sure where that stood as Alaska had been performing less and less these days, instead accompanying Sharon to various “industry parties”, although Katya felt that title suggested a lot less drug use than she knew went on at said events.

“How much are you willing to pay for it?” Alaska asked, twisting her body back around to her girlfriend who looked only marginally less dishevelled.

Before Katya had a chance to reply Sharon crowded Alaska up against the doorway, nipping playfully at her jaw. “Not that you’re not worth every cent,” she breathed against her throat, “but I don’t feel inclined to share right now.”

Alaska’s eyelids fluttered as Sharon bit across her neck, prompting a breathy moan that indicated that despite her words Katya and Trixie just might be treated to the full show if they didn’t remove themselves from the situation quite hastily.

Sharon pressed Alaska harder up against the doorway, running her hands down her sides, to her ass, prompting Alaska to wrap her legs around her. The soles of her feet looked as though she might have walked barefoot the entire way home and Katya didn’t doubt that she would have, either because her shoes had been deemed too uncomfortable after wearing them for entirely too many hours or because they had been misplaced; sacrificed to the alter of the party gods as several previous possessions of Alaska’s had been before them.

Katya glanced at Trixie who seemed to be in a slight state of shock and then, purely for her benefit, delicately cleared her throat. “Should we make some popcorn?” she asked pointedly.

Sufficiently reminded of the presence of other people Sharon turned to grin slightly at Katya for the briefest of seconds before her eyes were tugged back to Alaska. “We’ll be in her room,” she almost growled, hoisting Alaska up and carrying her out of the sight of their audience.

“Don’t interrupt us unless there’s a fire,” Alaska called out.

“Maybe not even then,” Sharon threw in for good measure.

“It was nice to meet you,” Trixie called back but was only met with the slamming of Alaska’s bedroom door.

Katya barked out a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. “Okay,” she said, “I imagine we have about 20 seconds until we’re treated to the not-at-all censored soundtrack of those two going at it so I hope you’ve finished eating.”

Trixie threw her a look of amused disbelief before giving her a nod, “okay,” she said with a chuckle, “you know, it’s quite nice outside and I’m simply dying for some sun.” She stood up and started gathering their mostly empty plates before Katya stopped her.

“20 seconds,” she reminded her before a high moan punctured the air. “Maybe not even that,” she amended. “Leave the dishes, we don’t have time.”

Katya grabbed Trixie’s hand, pulling her out of the apartment and down the stairs, onto the street below where Trixie was finally overcome by giggles.

“That was absolutely ridiculous,” she wheezed out, freeing her hand from Katya’s grasp to dab delicately at corners of her eyes with her fingertips in a careful manner designed to avoid smudging her makeup. The fact that she wasn’t wearing any at the moment was immaterial, it had become a habit. “It’s like 12:30 pm, where the fuck were they coming from?”

“I have no idea,” Katya earnestly replied, “some party I presume, Sharon drags her to a lot of those although Alaska never seems unwilling.”

Trixie straightened up, a slightly dazed expression on her face, “oh, that really was Sharon Coady then,” she said, “I wasn’t sure.”

“Do you know her?” Katya asked, slightly perplexed.

“Not personally,” Trixie shrugged, taking Katya’s hand back in her own and heading on down the street. Katya didn’t know if they were headed anywhere in particular and she found she truly didn’t care. “I know some people who work with her, she’s apparently very talented, has a real eye for what will make a trend.”

Katya nodded.

Sharon’s career seemed to be on a trajectory, only going up, and Alaska had on multiple occasions mentioned the talk about her that was apparently circulating the fashion scene.

Trixie went on, “Some of my friends are astounded she hasn’t started her own label yet, say she’s one of the few people they’ve met who stands a real chance of actually breaking into the business on their own.”

When Katya first met Trixie she’d been surprised to find out how much she knew about the inner workings of almost every aspect of industry LA had to offer. She claimed it came from working in makeup and that in order to be good at her job she needed to keep her ear to the ground but Katya suspected it was more than that. Trixie respected people who were good at what they did. It didn’t matter if they were makeup artists, models, fashion designers or musicians. Trixie simply had an earnest respect and admiration for people who put their all into their work.

“Yeah,” Katya replied, “she claims that’s what the parties are about,” she expanded, “she’s pretty sure the label wouldn’t take well to her quitting so she wants to make sure she has her own connections if and when she burns that bridge. Claims she can’t break into the industry if people are too scared of RuPaul’s wrath to actually work with her.”

“That’s pretty smart of her,” Trixie agreed, “Ru can barely just be called a designer anymore, he’s almost a religious leader. I swear, it boarders on a cult. It’s very much a ‘you’re either in or you’re out’ kind of situation. Sharon’s wouldn’t be the first career not allowed to prosper because RuPaul decided she betrayed him.”

Katya shrugged. She wasn’t really all that familiar with the fashion industry, only really privy to what she’d gathered from her relatively limited interaction with Sharon, and what Alaska had let slip. Katya always did her level best to ignore the bitterness that sometimes lurked underneath Alaska’s comments. Although she couldn’t relate to their particular situation, she could empathise. It wasn’t long ago that Sharon had been struggling as hard as Alaska to gain recognition and, anyway, most of the time Alaska managed to radiate pure pride at her partner’s success.

“I’d be lying if I said I believed that was the only reason she attends the parties though,” Katya said, raising an eyebrow.

“I guess they don’t call her Sharon Needles for nothing,” Trixie said, laughing, “oh god, knowing me I’ll actually slip up and call her that to her face one day.”

“I doubt she’d mind,” Katya replied, “she and Alaska used to have this punk band when they were younger where that was legitimately her stage name. That’s actually where the name originated. Although from what I’ve seen she prefers rolled up bills to needles so the truth of it is debatable.”

Trixie shrieked her enjoyment, but Katya wasn’t done.

“In fact, she’s probably doing blow off Alaska’s tits right now,” she proclaimed, lips stretched wide in a smile that only grew wider in response to the grimace on Trixie’s face.

“I didn’t get out of the apartment just to have you describe what I’m missing,” her companion complained, nose all scrunched up in distaste. Katya fought down the urge to tell her just how beautiful it made her look.

“Without dirty thoughts, there are only dirty dishes,” she said instead, prompting an eye roll from her friend.

“You’re such an idiot,” Trixie replied but the fondness of her tone accompanied by the soft smile on her face caused a fluttering in Katya’s stomach, as though she had just been showered with the loveliest of compliments.

She simply smiled back, swinging their joined hands between them, and allowed Trixie to turn the conversation to some other hopeful designer whose name Katya had never heard.

It didn’t matter though.

She made the appropriate noises of interest and laughed when the anecdotes warranted it, and although the topic wasn’t something she had a particular interest in she found that her reactions weren’t feigned.

The truth is, she suspected she could listen to Trixie read aloud from the phone book for hours without getting bored; each name and number as fascinating to her as the last.

[chrishoulihan]

FYF ADVENTCHEA

So this shit turned into a fucking novel, I’m putting it under a cut and it’s just as much for my own recollection as it is for anyone who wants to hear about my festival weekend. Get into it

So I arrived in LA on Thursday morning after my flight was delayed by an hour and ended up getting there at the exact same time as Anna A @yourveryeyes which was fortuitous! We took a Lyft to Exposition Park to pick up her wristband for the festival, wandered around a little bit, and ended up taking the Metro downtown to meet up with Kylie @electric-candyman who was GREAT TO MEET and was also going to the festival, and her friend Chris who doesn’t have a Tumblr afaik and was going to both FYF and the Planetarium show that night. We went to MOCA which was pretty sweet, they had a Rothko room and a few Rauschenberg pieces that were really cool to see in person. After that Anna and I split off to go to Hollywood and check out Amoeba on our way to Sufjan and that was obviously amazing, I didn’t have enough space in the bags I packed to buy any records (which was by design, my broke ass can’t afford to drop a lot of money on vacation and you can’t waste money on stuff if you don’t have room to carry it home *tapping head guy meme*) but I bought a little heart-eyed cat emoji pin as a souvenir and I definitely wanted to buy 5000 things I couldn’t have.

From there we went to the Hollywood Forever Cemetery for Planetarium and met up with Anna L @louisdebumhole ANN- SQUAD REUNITED HELL YEAH. We got to the cemetery and went in all together like over an hour after the doors opened but since it was a lawn show there was still barely anyone lined up at the stage by the time we got there and we got just behind the rail?? AMAZING. I haven’t had the opportunity for rail at a Sufjan show since the Christmas pageant in 2012. Chris showed up not too long after us and joined us right by the stage and Anna L’s friend was there on the rail too so it was a party.

OBVIOUSLY PLANETARIUM WAS INCREDIBLE. My dumb ass forgot to save my Instagram story so I don’t have any of my own videos but it was so great. Sufjan wore his stupid beautiful clashing pajama suit and some fuckin moon boots and he looked fabulous and sang like an angel and said a lot of nonsensical inspirational stuff (like this which is the only video I managed to salvage.) The whole record sounds even richer and fuller live; Jupiter, Moon, and Venus sounded especially amazing. AND fun fact, Matt Berninger was there and watched the entire show from the left side of the stage! My indie dad Matty B supporting his homies!! I also got a setlist after the show ended, which was exciting even though of course it’s literally just a list of planets and in the exact same order as the record lmao. But it’s my first Sufjan-related setlist and I will cherish it forever.

So we got back to Anna L’s house I think around midnight that night and by then I had been awake for like 21 hours so I was exhausted and basically passed out as soon as I could. Next day was the START OF FYF and Anna A/Kylie/Chris and I decided that we wanted to go for Bjork rail, since she was the first act on the main stage on Friday and there weren’t really any other bands playing before her elsewhere that we were dying to see. Before we went to the festival Anna A and I hung out with her friend Jen who was great, we got boba and then went downtown to The Last Bookstore, which was bomb, and had lunch at Grand Central Market. Got to the festival about half an hour before the gates opened, made it through the long ass queue, and went immediately to the main stage where we got basically center-right just behind the rail!! For fucking Bjork!!! Commence freaking out for the next three hours. Chris and Kylie showed up later right behind us and it was such a fun and easy queueing experience for me, everyone around us was super chill and everyone was so hype to see Bjork that we pretty much just looked out for each other and bonded over our mutual fandom. Anna and I had intended to see Bjork together in NYC back in 2015 but it got cancelled so this was a LONG TIME COMING and I’m so glad that we were able to make it happen.

So Bjork was the first set of my whole festival weekend and honestly it was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen?? SHE WAS AMAZING and I knew I was gonna be emotional but I wasn’t fucking prepared for how surreal and incredible it felt to hear THAT VOICE in person and to be that close to her while it happened. Unreal. She had Arca with her as her DJ and a whole string ensemble, and she came out wearing a glow in the dark lime green headdress mask thing and a huge puffy dress that made her look like a beautiful pinata. Everything about it was fucking perfect; she did at least one song from every record except Vespertine. Multiples from Vulnicura/Homogenic/Post, Come to Me, Mouth’s Cradle, Wanderlust, Mutual Core. Fucking awesome. Favorites for me were probably Joga (CRIED), Mouth’s Cradle (fuckin bomb arrangement and a huge surprise), Isobel & Bachelorette (two of my all time faves), Notget and Hyperballad which had LITERAL FIREWORKS AND FIREBALLS going off onstage behind her?? What the fuck?? Amazing. And it was the most fun and loving group of people on the rail I’ve ever been part of; everyone around me was so genuinely excited and emotional and singing along and I could FEEL THE LOVE.

So that was an amazing start to the festival obviously and after Bjork we met up with Anna L and went straight to go see Anderson Paak who I missed BOTH TIMES he was here in Portland last year because I’m an idiot, and WOW he is so great live!! I’m actively offended that he is not my boyfriend tbh, he has the most beautiful and infectious smile I’ve ever seen on a human being. Big ol dance party up in the lawn stage. After that we went back to the main stage to watch Missy Elliott for a while and that was a lot of fun; found out after the fact that Bjork and fucking BEYONCE were watching off stage, so like, now I can say I have been in the presence of Beyonce. Went to Flying Lotus early which was the last set of the night to get a good view, with our sweet Flylo-branded 3D glasses obv. Flylo was amazing as always and the 3D show was awesome, I hope he takes it on the road cause that shit was fire. I’m also really into the mystical shaman look he seems to be cultivating lately lmao, and he looks cute as hell with the longer hair!! One of the biggest highlights of the whole weekend for me was when he started the Captain Murphy stuff, got one verse through The Killing Joke, and then was like “you know what fuck this I changed my mind, I want to do this song cause I never get the chance to do it” and fucking busted out with COSPLAY, which is only my favorite Captain Murphy track ever!!! I wasn’t expecting it cause it’s pretty obscure even for the Captain Murphy stuff and I lost my goddamn mind it was so much fun. (Gotta say though that the longer he keeps riding out Murphy tracks from 2012 at his live shows, the more egregious it is that he still hasn’t fuckin dropped a Murphy album or any substantial Murphy release since then. Come on bro. I’ve been waiting 5 years) ANYWAY so that was great of course. Day One = big success.

Day Two! Before we went to the festival that day we met up and had lunch with Anna L’s bf Jesus, who had a Saturday/Sunday festival pass and is a lovely man with great taste in music and cat photos and baseball caps. First set of the day for me was Thundercat and it was my SIXTH time seeing him live, which is hilarious (gonna be 7 times in September.) One of the first things he said to the crowd after getting on stage was “you guys look like you smell weird,” which was accurate. Obviously he’s always great live and I loved getting to hear more of the Drunk songs since the last time I saw him. He’s also rocking some pretty sweet neon pink dreads right now. Caught the end of Noname’s set with Anna A and Chris afterwards and really enjoyed it! I want to check out her album now cause she was great. Grabbed some food and then the whole crew met up together again to see Perfume Genius – GORGEOUS. I’d never seen him live before and he’s so captivating to watch. His performance of Slip Away to close the set was one of my favorites of the whole weekend.

After that I ended up splitting up with everyone, watched some of Arca’s set but ended up leaving to go hang out on the lawn before Erykah Badu because my feet were killing me and I really needed to sit down and recharge. Erykah was supposed to go on at 9:50; cut to 10:15 and she still hasn’t gone on and I was already planning on cutting out of her set at 10:30 to try and snag a semi decent spot for Frank Ocean, so I said fuck it and bailed to go do that. BUMMED I DIDN’T GET TO SEE HER TBH I was really looking forward to it. But it’s kinda good that I left sooner rather than later because the main stage was already pretty packed by 10:30 for Frank. I got an okay spot to the right of the stage probably about 10+ rows back from his platform catwalk thing, and it was easily the most crowded audience I was in all weekend. Talk about being packed like sardines it was madness, if I had showed up like 10 minutes later than I did I would have had an absolutely shit view.

So like…..FRANK FUCKING OCEAN. Never ever thought the day would come that I’d see him live, and the whole experience was so incredibly special to me. I DEFINITELY cried buckets when he sang Lens, which has weirdly become one of my all time favorite tracks in the last few months, and Ivy really really got to me out of nowhere too. Literally everyone around me within earshot sang along to every single word of every song and it was amazing. He played an unreleased cover of some old school funk track that was absolute straight fucking fire, me and the girl next to me danced our asses off together. That shit better get an official release on his radio show like he said he was planning!! Also Brad Pitt was on stage at one point and that was HILARIOUS tbh I wish I had gotten any sort of video of that myself, but the way the wasted dude behind me shouted “WHAT THE FUUUCK” when he popped up on screen will remain fresh in my memory forever. The whole show was gorgeous and I just LOVE FRANK OCEAN!!! I want him to tour so bad so I can actually plan out a scenario where I can get rail for his show and have a better view.

Aaaand Day Three. Got to the festival kinda lateish because the first act the Ann- Squad wanted to see wasn’t till after 6 (Little Dragon), so once we got there we took some photos and wandered around a bit, met back up with Chris and Kylie and took these majestic photobooth pictures, and then Anna A and I went to Little Dragon early for a good spot. I had never seen them before and it was a blast, just a total dance party. They mostly played stuff from Season High which was fine by me cause that album fuckin bangs. Then mood whiplash when we went straight from Little Dragon to Moses Sumney lmao. We got to Moses’ set right when he started our mutual fave Lonely World, serendipitous tbh!! He is beautiful and I loooove the lighting setup he’s got going for his show, it felt really unique to me among the loud dancey festival fare.

After that we went back to the main stage for Solange, which was great; I’m not as familiar with her music as I could be tbh but I really enjoyed how conceptual and dance-oriented her show was. At one point a whole massive brass section streamed in out of nowhere just for one song and it was fuckin awesome. Towards the end of Solange’s set Kylie texted me to say that if we hurried there was still a little bit of rail space left for Run the Jewels in fifteen minutes, to which we were immediately like UHH YES WTF and hustled our way the fuck over – made it in time, got just behind the rail for motherfucking Run the Jewels right before they went on somehow, *Killer Mike voice* goddammit it’s a motherfucking miracle. Give Kylie 5000 gold medals tbh. And RTJ ended up being probably my favorite non-headlining set of the weekend, SO MUCH FUN. The crowd was fucking nuts, everyone around me was going stupidly hard, and I discovered that I know pretty much every word of RTJ3 lmao. The only thing that could have made it more perfect would have been if they’d done Panther Like A Panther, WHICH THEY DIDN’T and was greatly missed by me. But it was amazing. I’m kind of in love with El-P’s ridiculous ass tbh.

Last show of the weekend – Nine Inch Nails!! Who I love!!!!! And hadn’t seen live in almost four years!!!!!! I’m always fucking trash for Nine Inch Nails honestly, their live shows just turn me into a raging dancing idiot and this was no exception. ‘Wish’ will always be one of my favorite songs to hear live from any band ever. Also got to hear Something I Can Never Have and Reptile for the first time ever for me which was awesome!! Bold move of Trent to throw in Something I Can Never Have as the fourth song in a festival set but I was loving it. Like I said yesterday I randomly lost my fucking mind to The Hand That Feeds lmao, I was actually jumping around like a moron. The newer songs were great too, Field On Fire FUCKING BANGS live holy shit. Basically it was just so great to cap off the weekend with band that I’ve loved for ten years and are always fucking immaculate live. And then when it was all over I got chicken strips and fries and walked out of the festival with the fam eating my delicious food. Perfection.

So that was my weekend and I honestly could not have dreamed of having a better time. I’m so so glad that I was able to do this, see some of my favorite bands with an awesome group of people who love music just as much as I do, get out of town and clear my head, and find some healing at a time when I really needed it. I feel very lucky.

[shinygoku]

Boy oh boy, I sure love Keith

...but why? Sometimes it’s really hard to round up feelings to put into orderly words, but it can be interesting to step back and look at results.

Why Keith in particular when no one is ever gonna displace Son Goku of #1 in my heart, or be a better written character than Zuko? I guess it’s partly as Keith is a new addition to my life, of sorts, and also other things I’m about to try and cover.

Oh, this is gonna have spoilers for the series so far, be warned.

And it’s rather on the long side, so under a Cut~! 😺✂

Part 1: The Superficial

What better place to start at than the beginning? And anyway, I may as well get this out of the way first: Keith caught my eye as he’s pretty and reminded me of the aforementioned Zuko. He’s a bishounen in his late teens with dark hair and associations with Fire and the colour red. I mean, this may’ve been partially on purpose, as even accounting for Keith being The Red Guy in the 80s version, he didn’t have the Fire Lion until VLD. There’s also the way both characters have swords, albeit different types, and Keith gets the option of using 2 swords in S2, like how Zuko’s blades are a twin set.

Anyway, the thing to take away from that paragrath is that being reminded of Zuko automatically made me feel more interested in Keith.

Part 2: The Secondhand Content

Unfortunately, I couldn’t watch Voltron, and I wasn’t all that interested when I had other shows to consume and games to play. For quite a while, the only indication I’d get of it were the odd posts from people I follow, which weren’t generally that helpful for someone who, like me, didn’t have context for the show, and lots of it was shipping. Eventually memes trickled through, as well, but they also weren’t that informative (what a shock!)

This wasn’t really enough to actually keep me interested, it just reminded me that Voltron was a thing people liked and it had that Zukolike dude in it.

Part 3: The Spark of Interest

Season 2 came and went, apparently, and I still didn’t really care. Except a couple of people I follow and trust had noticed. One of ‘em, Storm, didn’t write a whole lot about it, but it made me aware it was Current and New. I asked him but he confirmed that from what he’d seen, the Red Guy was pretty bland and only Looked like Zuko. I felt disappointed, like I’d bet on a poor horse or something, lol.

This didn’t motivate me to tune in, but @scrawlers started making a number of posts about Keith, and seeing as our common interest in Yugioh characters meant I had a good time reading the stuff written about Jounouchi from their posts, I got a lot more curious and more secondhand interest than ever before.

Part 4: Season One and Sitting Tight

So now I has much more reason to tune in. I had been spoiled, but only for broad things or things that were meaningless to me, having so little knowledge of the show.

To be really, brutally honest, I wasn’t really blown away by Season One. I felt a lot of the jokes fell flat and that large areas had been skipped over. Areas like characterization. The first episode had been fun, but I wanted them to stay on Earth a bit longer. I still want more Earth stuff, really, but I expect future eps to have flashbacks.

But the worst of all (to me) was that the only Episodes where Keith was interesting for more than a moment was the Pilot and then the 2 at the end. In the big middle chunk of the season I was finding it hard to list his characteristics that couldn’t just be grouped under a Vanilla Protagonist heading.

Part 5: Speeding up and Season 2

So yeah, First Episode aside, I couldn’t feel much for Keith until the last pair of episodes of the season. Things were finally getting more interesting, he went off on his own, in spite of the others warning against it and eventually gets in a fight which is a lot of fun to watch, as he puts up a good effort before having to skedaddle. In the next episode, he’s the only one to suggest not risking The One Superweapon in order to try and get Allura back, which I’m not saying is the right or wrong call, but it’s interesting as he’s trying to think of the Bigger Picture. Heck, the conflict in that scene is interesting too, as he doesn’t argue after the others chew him out, he just says his bit and clams up afters. Then later in the episode he’s pragmatic enough to try and attack Zarkon himself, finds out that won’t work, but keeps going anyway, essentially stalling for time even as he’s getting thrashed.

Like, suddenly I’m able to find seedlings of his characteristics growing! He’s a Determinator! He’s fighting for the Greater Good! He goes to pretty big and risky lengths to achieve his goals! Some of this is still Standard Shounen Hero type stuff, but starting to draw away from the mould and he feels less plain.

This is a nice setup for Season 2, and the first episode of that is one I really love.

Part 6: Shiro and Keith

I haven’t mentioned his relationship with everyone’s favourite Space Dad yet, though in this case it’s more Space Big Bro

Ok so, I’m gonna say right here that I looove the Broganes. Like, dang! What a marvellous brotp it is! I’m largely avoiding Shipping in this series at this point, but point me in the direction of some Quality Broganes Content and I’ll be delighted! I really, really want the series to go into some more depth and flashbacks for these two, and I’m very much for them to be Bros (adopted or otherwise) and all their interactions so far have been bright points that I like to bask in.

Anyway, onto S2E1. The part of the plot that was focused on them was sooo good, and while I liked the other threads in that ep, I still kinda feel that the segments should've been divided to 2 plots per episode, instead of 3 in one and then 1 plot for the entire next episode.

I think Across the Universe is super great for showing insight into the Broganes, like Shiro’s vulnerabilities and bleak humour, and Keith’s resourcefulness and urge to go help, but naturally the main points of that were boiled down to Keith being Shiro’s successor, what with Keith being able to pilot the Black Lion for a bit and more things that are left comparatively subtle.

The show has very heavily implied (as in, I’d be very shocked if they swerved away from this) that Shiro and Keith go back a fair bit. Keith tends to go off on his own, but will always listen to Shiro. He’s often hovering nearby in group shots and is quick to defend him, as in Season 1′s finale. This really wouldn’t work if he only Kind Of Knew Shiro from them having been in the same building, and a lot of jokes are made about Shiro having a Keith bias but they really do gel together and they clearly know each other well.

The point with that is that Shiro knows Keith’s got more to him than the show had really gone and shown at this point. Fortunately, the show steps it up and we get more precious details on Mullet Boy as it goes, and it backs up Shiro’s assessment. Episode 8 brings up the successor point, makes it a very clear point, and it’s only dropped because Keith doesn’t like to think about Bad Things happening to Shiro (same tbh). Still, one can’t dismiss S2E1′s conversation as being something brought on by Shiro’s bad state, as he reasserts the same things here! He points out Keith has gotta reel in his temper and work a few things out, but would otherwise do really good~

This section’s getting a bit long and rambly, I’ll progress

Part 7: Self Doubt

Yeah, if you want me to analyse Keith’s relationships with everyone, nnnot today! Sorry, I don’t consider myself to be a good enough meta writer to tackle that, especially seeing as this is already pretty long lmao

Ahem, back to the show. Once the gang’s reassembled, the plot starts to really propel itself into hyperdrive, so in quite a short space of time we’re given:

Keith recognises the mark on Ulaz’s blade, and later goes to check on his on knife in private. That episode has Keith also get cross at Allura with Shiro for the princess being so discriminative lol

Running away from Zarkon, who is somehow tracking ‘em and won’t leave them alone

Keith has a nightmare about being Galra and thinks ‘aw shit, what if that’s how Zarkon keeps teleporting behind us?’ Allura has similar thoughts, but without the Galra part so they run away together. Turns out that wasn’t either of ‘em, but they have some interesting awkward car conversation about The Galra and how Allura still thinks they’re the Orks of this verse (Chaotic Evil), though Keith does a good job at not getting too upset about this

SPACE MALL!! Also the Knife Keith has is super duper rare and valuable (Duh Nah!!)

Keith finds out at the end of the next episode that (Spoiler warning) He’s Part Saiyan Galra!!

This would be a nice place for the show to have had a bit of a breather, but instead it goes even more into Maximum Overdrive, but I’ll get to the other eps in a bit.

So the first half of S2 really likes to drop heavy hints about Galra!Keith. I’d like to say if I saw it coming or not, but I’d already been spoilered, wup waaah. I didn’t have the whole context, so it was still enjoyable! But I dunno how well they wrote it as I wasn’t fresh and unimpressioned as would probably have been intended. But they did hint at it in Season One, with the hand panel that Only Galra Tech could activate and Keith getting purple burns from the Sith Lightning. This S2 stuff really drives it home for that sweet, sweet reveal, but it was apparently a fond fan theory pre S2, so Good Job, writers.

And, y’know, the Galra thing wasn’t the only thing that had been teased at in S1, but elements of his personality, too! They’re much easier to locate with S2′s revolutions and heavy focus on him though, so I can’t really congratulate the Writers for that. It seems odd that he was so ignored and then so focused, though I get it’s hard to give even coverage to multiple characters and have an action-filled plot, but it’s quite the reversal. I really love the focus he gets in S2, though this does seem to come at the cost of some of the rest, which oughta be corrected in the next season/s. I’m gonna try and recap personality traits towards the end of this post, mind you.

So yes, back to the remainder of S2 (and the series at the time of writing, nooo)

The ep right after the Amazing S2E8 is also really good, already getting the wheels in motion of the fallout of Galra!Keith being established. Not only that, but Keith also slides pretty smoothly into a leader role here and continues to refuse to tar Galra with the same brush, opting to save the mysterious stranger and shrugging it off when they leave while stealing some loot. Keith seems to generally be really patient and easygoing considering what’s been going on, and Hunk goes from being vocally wary to warming right up and learning. It’s gooood.

Allura continues to be generally distrusting of all the Galra, and now that officially includes Keith, that means she freezes him out somewhat. Again, Keith’s response to this is interesting; he doesn’t get angry, instead he’s just quietly sad. It’s like he’s trying not to let it get in the way of all the other shit happening, but it’s obviously cutting pretty deep.

It may be partly this why Keith volunteers himself for a suicide mission, though there’s good technical reasons why he does as well, and we already know Keith isn’t all that idealistic and is willing to make sacrifices for the Greater Good. Eventually Allura comes to her senses and we get a heavy handed, but still quite sweet scene where she apologises.

Keith goes and does some cool stuff with Thace, the respect between ‘em is really cool but nnooooo, Thaaace--! And then, hoo boy, it’s time for the Finale

Part 8: Secret Blade Club and The Season Finale

You may have noticed I skated over most of The Blade of Marmora. Let’s fix that, shall we~?

Aw gosh, man, this episode...! It’s not as cute and funny as SPACE MALL, but I’d be crazy not to find S2E8 The Best. And the suit Keith’s in barely even factors into this choice lmao

But yeah, this episode goes above and beyond and certainly hammers things in. Things like: Keith will never give up. Keith longs to learn about himself and find out who he is. Keith cares so damn much about Shiro. Keith will still put the Greater Good above himself and may even, finally, fold his hand even when before he had utterly refused to quit.

And now... the last of the series (so far!) Blackout. Hoo boy

So the episode is pretty much a long fight scene, and it’s fun to watch, but damn does that end shot feel cheap-- but I’m not here to talk about that

So! Keith in this ep was really good for a nice, simple reason: He automatically took charge when Shiro was out of action. And everyone else listens! And it works, even if Shiro got magic’d to Another Dimension, or whatever.

Scrawlers made a post or 2 about it, but in the post-battle scene, Keith is the focus character, we see his running towards the Black Lion and he’s in the centre when The Gang is all in the cockpit. Symbolism~!

Also a post that’s around shows the first and last lines of the cast, and Keith’s are: “Shiro?!” and “SHIRO!?!”. owch D’:

Part 9: So, what’s Keith’s characteristics, again?

Man, this is long and a bit all over the dang place, ain’t it? Let’s recap Keith’s characteristics:

He’s one hell of a Determinator

Hot blooded and sometimes has a quick temper

But conversely, he’s capable of staying calm even when stressed

Socially awkward, very attached to his friends but doesn’t get some of the nuance associated

If you hurt one of his amigos, he’ll go right for your throat

He’s not as wide-eyed as most of the group, has suggested making sacrifices, taking hostages and often seems to disregard his own safety

He’s always working for the Greater Good

Likes the quiet, which might help explain how he could live on his own for a year in the middle of nowhere without going bananas

Has abandonment issues

Longs to know more about himself

Part 10: ShinyGoku, you didn’t really explain why you Love Keith, you just listed a lot of things haphazardly

It’s hard to really explain using words! Feelings don’t have a direct translation, haha.

In summation, I love the character he was eventually revealed to have!! I’ve said there’s crumbs to be found in S1, though I stand by that outside Ep 1 and the last 2 of S1, you really have to go through with a fine-toothed comb and a magnifying glass. Yeah, you see him get the most angry when Pidge wants out. Yes, you see the much-touted Bonding Moment bit™, but like, it’s really thanks to S2 that I can love him as much as I do

His character is interesting, and the part-Galra thing sure gives a lot of the issues and conflict more ground and ironically makes him lighten up a bit, but even without doing a Dragonball Z an playing the Alien card I do already like the traits listed, haha

Speaking of DB, I feel most Shounen Protagonists are influenced by Goku, as long as they came later. The original Golion was earlier than DB, of course, but Keith has a bit of a blend of playing some of the Goku traits straight and subverting others. I’m not saying this is intentional, but I find it Neat.

Keith Kogane is my Space Son, a Golden Boy from the Battlefield, and I dearly love him. He’s got cool depth and lots more potential! I can’t get enough of his interaction with Shiro! I’m hoping for more Bonding with the other characters (like Pidge! The Super Arm Brotp!!) and am very interested in where he’s gonna go next.

And he is indeed very pretty, lol

[kinnoth]

Hey, so, uh, weird question… Could you please post the raw text of your fic where link fucks monsters under a cut on your blog? My computer has blocked archiveofourown but i can still read tumblr text posts

lmao you got it buddy.

happy fapping.

 that one fic where link fucks monsters  

    somewhere, in a non-specific zelda-verse

                 Notes:    we’re not going to talk about this.

Chapter 1: chuchu                  

Link awoke to something soft and squidgy pressing slowly up against his back. He sighed and opened his eyes. Chuchu attack. Again. It was one of the reasons why most people locked themselves behind city walls after dark. But he had been on his way back from the mountains when night had fallen, and though he could see the lights of civilisation winking off in the distance, it had been a long day of questing and fighting and running for his life. He was tired, so he made camp on a grassy thatch just outside of town. And now the chuchus had found him. Such were the risks of adventuring.

He shrugged away from the touch, not willing to be bothered. Chuchus weren’t monsters, per se. Sure, they killed a couple people every year, but they could hardly be counted as malicious creatures. They were just brainless; oversized blobs of ectoplasm that by some evolutionary chance had been made haphazardly mobile. Their existence was a constant search for food and heat, and Link was too tired today to let this one find either with his body.

It was persistent though; it must have been desperate, because chuchus were usually easily enough rebuffed. It slimed its way against Link’s back again, its membrane cool but warming quickly as it leached the heat from Link’s skin. Link shrugged again, which made the chuchu draw away, but it came back, soon enough. Its membrane spread over Link’s shoulders and down his spine, pressing into the space where Link’s arm met his torso and then where his legs met each other. Link’s half-hearted struggle ceased. Oh why not? he thought. He’d had stranger bedmates, after all.

Sensing its prey had gone still, the chuchu worked to wrap itself around Link’s body. It pushed beneath him, lifting him off from his bedroll. Link held still and let the chuchu do as it would until it tried to snake up his neck. Link twisted his head away and after a number of vigorous shakes, the chuchu left his face alone. This was how most people died from chuchu attacks, when the were crept upon unawares and suffocated by its gelatinous membrane before they awoke. Link knew better though; he could let the chuchu take what it wanted from him without fear for his life.

The chuchu’s amorphous limbs slimed under the hem of his tunic and the waistband of his breeches. It was trying to separate him from his clothing, like a person would peel the skin from a fruit. Link held still for it and soon enough the chuchu was pressed up against him, skin to skin, warming all the while as Link’s flesh cooled. The chuchu’s touch was deceptively wet; he felt as if his body was submerged underwater, but when he moved his fingers against themselves, they were still bone dry.

The chuchu had shaped itself into every fold and crevice of Link’s body, and it clung to him like a set of skin-form clothing. So enveloped now, Link could feel the chuchu’s life against him. Bare sentience was still sentience. It had a pulse of its own which shuddered and rippled around his entire body. Link sighed and the chuchu sighed with him, expanded when Link drew breath. Its rhythm was slow and deep, and when it contracted again, Link felt it press bluntly against the openings of his body.

It couldn’t breach him on its own; its hold was too weak for that, its membrane much too soft. But it pressed there firmly, and while Link couldn’t help it with the tiny hole at the tip of his penis, the other one… Well, it had been a while.

Slowly, so as not to upset the chuchu’s hold, Link moved his hand to reach back behind him. His arsehole was tight, but he wasn’t unpractised in relaxing himself to be breached. The first finger went in freely enough, and as he felt himself loosen around it, he pushed another in. This one was more difficult, and the friction burned. Link closed his eyes and let his breath go ragged. Two fingers in, two knuckles deep, but the chuchu hadn’t taken the invitation yet. Should he go for a third?

He leveraged the two fingers, stretching his hole, making room for another when he felt something else press in besides them. Finally, he thought, and spread his fingers wider. The chuchu seemed to get the idea and pressed itself into him.

Link’s spine arched and brought his head back with it. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly. The chuchu plunged in as if it intended to crawl up inside Link’s body. It must have really been starving. Chuchus were waste eaters; every time a town was built, chuchu populations sprung up around it to consume the waste the people generated inside. Sometimes the town population couldn’t keep up with the chuchu population, and the chuchus went hungry.

This one was especially lucky; it would get its meal straight from the source. The chuchu’s membrane opened and its ectoplasm leaked out, slick and wet, as it began to feed. The chuchu had no conception of the limits of a human body; it pushed too hard, too fast. Link’s arsehole could barely stretch in time to accommodate it. His skin heated, but the chuchu leached it away again. His body broke into a sweat, but the chuchu absorbed that too. He was being opened wider and wider; the chuchu held him open as it fit more of itself into his hole.

Link coughed up a moan and rolled his hips back against the intrusion. It was like rocking back against a wall. The chuchu was cleaning him from the inside out, sloughing up against his insides, reaching deeper and further than anything else ever could. He thought he could feel the chuchu just beneath the skin of his belly, spilling into him, prodding, consuming, mindless of him and his pleasure, knowing nothing more than its own instinct.

Shakily, he brought one hand behind him again and touched around the appendage at his opening. It was hot and wet with the chuchu’s ectoplasm; he pressed a knuckle into the chuchu’s soft body to fit a fingertip inside alongside it. Then he traced his way all around. He couldn’t see for sure, but the approximation left him breathless. He’d never been this opened before. He could fit his entire hand into himself like this if he wanted, his entire fist.

But maybe he could have more. As steadily as he could, Link rolled to his stomach and pushed himself to his knees. The chuchu moved with him, every bit with him, never withdrawing an inch. Link opened his legs, spreading his feet as far as they would go. He bent his head down, gasping as the chuchu took the advantage and pushed further into him. He was shaking now, full, gasping shudders. If it weren’t for the chuchu’s support, he would collapse into his bedroll.

His hand on his prick, thumbing the slit with a fingernail. Not to be an ungracious host, after all, but he hadn’t yet offered the chuchu would a drink. Sliding his palm up and down, again and again. Precum dribbled from the tip, and he milked it desperately for moisture. His fingertip again, pressing at the slit. Perhaps it was just too small, and the chuchu just couldn’t sense it, pressing in again,prying a little – there it was. Recognising that every exit was just another opening, the chuchu found his slit like it had found his arsehole and slithered up against it. Link could hardly help it this time, but the chuchu didn’t appear to need his help any more. All he could do was hold his cock steady in his fist as the chuchu prodded experimentally. When a sliver of an appendage slipped inside at last, Link nearly screamed. It expanded as it had in his arse, and slicked and stretched, so completely full – Link came with a wail, spine bending, his eyes shut so tightly the black of his eyelids burst into colours.

It was a curious, dry orgasm; the chuchu had intercepted his emission before it ever left his body. It was still pulsating inside him, in his arsehole, in his cock, as Link panted against it, his weight entirely held up by its gelatinous mass as every muscle on his body let bonelessly go. He felt himself daze for a bit, a couple seconds, or maybe several minutes, but he’d been still too long, and the chuchu tucked under his chin crept soundlessly into his mouth.

Link flailed, or he would have, but his arms were bound within the chuchu’s hold and now it was fitting its way between his teeth, working past his gag reflex and down his throat. He could hardly breathe; his jaw ached and his eyes sprung with tears. His mouth watered around the chuchu’s limb, and his saliva dripped from his bottom lip and dripped onto the chuchu’s membrane.

Link could feel his blood rise, but it was still too soon to get it up again. Still, as the chuchu opened his arse, sounded his urethra, sat heavy and slick in his throat, Link wanted to come. He rocked his body back and forth between the intrusion in his arse and the one in his mouth, moaning in frustration as bursts of unspecific pleasure flared in his nerves like weak electricity. He wanted it harder, faster, more direct. He wanted to be driven into the ground by the force of it. He wanted to be fucked.

Link wriggled. It was good, sure, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted something the chuchu couldn’t give him, and he was growing bored with what it could. He moved to push the chuchu off of him. As if sensing that its prey had started to struggle again, the chuchu’s efforts suddenly redoubled. It seized Link’s limbs, its hold suddenly hardened, not soft or pillowy any longer, but something demanding. Link grunted in surprise as the chuchu forced him face first into the ground and pried his legs open wide, wider than he’d thought he could spread them, until they were nearly perpendicular to his body.

It began rummaging into his body, eating desperately. The chuchu was not a powerful creature; to suddenly strengthen like this must be something it could only continue in short bursts. But short bursts were enough. Its limbs pulsed and pushed at Link’s holes, shrinking then widening as it piped his waste from inside him in gulps. Link rocked with it, his eyes squeezed tight, sucking tightly on the limb in his mouth and clenching down on the limb in his arse, fighting each push and pull, making the chuchu work harder. Every quick swell in his arsehole pushed neatly against his prostate.

He didn’t have to choose between having his face fucked or his arse opened or his dick played with. The chuchu followed him wherever he went, however he positioned himself. Every way he jerked or pushed brought some new angle of pleasure. He lifted his arse higher into the air to move against the chuchu, rotating it clockwise in greedy little circles, always looking for more. The chuchu delivered. Bigger gulps now, faster pace. Link’s rhythm began to falter and his mouth fell slack as he dropped his head and just let the chuchu work him.

This was good. This was what he needed. Fucking. Being used. Being held down and owned.

He made a broken sound as he came again, dry for real this time, no new cocktail for the chuchu to drink. He crumpled into himself as orgasm shuddered through him as the chuchu ate on. Distantly, languidly, he wondered where the chuchu was up to now. Perhaps his large intestine; perhaps it was enjoying the dinner he’d had last night.

Suddenly, without warning, the chuchu surged in his mouth. Link tried to cough, tried to gag, but the chuchu was driving down his throat with the same insistence it had filled his other holes. He felt its limb reaching down his oesophagus, then somewhere in his belly. The limb in his arse stilled for a moment, and Link had the distinct impression that they’d somehow linked together inside of him, that he’d been completely speared through like a hog on a spitroast. Desperate for breath, Link gagged once and then bit down. Ectoplasm flooded bitter and salty over his tongue, and he swallowed chuchu’s limb. Link felt it squirm inside him all the way down.

The chuchu didn’t even appear to mind; it was nerveless as it was brainless, after all. It withdrew from his mouth, however, and Link gasped for breath. The pulsing in his arse and dick were slowing again; perhaps it was because Link had gone slack, or the chuchu had had its fill. Link didn’t find he cared much. He was spent, clearly and completely, but when the chuchu slithered out from deep inside him, he still trembled at the loss and was nearly sorry for it. His cock first, slowly, and then his arse, where it stayed at the entrance as it lowered Link down. Link ground lazily against it. He liked that limb where it was; it felt like it belonged there. But at last, the chuchu withdrew, and its final appendage slipped from inside him with a wet and dirty slurp.

Link rolled onto his back as the chuchu bounced off, glimmering green in the distance; Link watched it go from between his knees, two fingers twisting lazily inside himself, revelling contemplatively in the looseness. His insides felt slick still from the ectoplasm, his belly full, probably from where it had collected.

His bed was still in the thatch of grass, though, and it was mercifully dry. He tucked down again for the second time that night, and he was nearly asleep when he heard another sucking sound and a cool press against the small of his back. Link glanced over behind him. Another chuchu, pink this time. The chuchu spread hesitantly against his skin. His dick hardened at the sight. Well, he thought, reaching over to pull it closer, he could always use another round.

—

The next morning, ablutions were a nightmare. Squatting in the bushes, he strained but nothing came out. Panting and grunting, he thought perhaps he’d allowed the chuchus to mess up his insides, but he’d taken a red potion just after breakfast, and his arsehole was as tight as ever. Clenching down again, he gave one last shove. Finally, there it was. His insides emptied, Link reached for the small pile of leaves he’d brought with him, but then he noticed the smell. Or the lack of one.

Turning curiously, he looked down. It was a chuchu, no bigger than his two fists put together, pink with specks of green. It bounced nervously, as if it were trying to escape. Without thinking, Link reached over towards his supplies and fished out a bottle. He swiped the mottled chuchu into it where it quivered experimentally. Link held it up to the light to consider it. Well, he’d caught stranger things.

Packing his things away, the chuchu at the top of his pack, he set off towards town. He was due in the forests today, to defeat some monster or another. He needed rupees and supplies, and possibly a long bath. A mottled chuchu had to fetch a good price, he thought, but then considered. To sell it seemed rather callous. Perhaps he’d prefer to keep this one for himself.

                     Notes:        kink meme prompt images: 1, 2 nsfw. obviously.

Chapter 2: like-like

Carelessness is one thing but stupidity is quite another. Like-likes aren’t, after all, subtle creatures, and this one is enormous: as wide around as a Kokiri tree and easily twice Link’s height, but, while Link had been trying to shoot down a flock of shrieking keese across the chamber, it had managed to sneak up on him. Link flails uselessly, hastily flinging aside his sword and shield to keep them from being swallowed with him. While like-likes could not digest living organic matter, the metal and varnish of Link’s weapons was another thing entirely.

The fine, undulating cilia around the like-like’s mouth grasp at his limbs and push him quickly down into the like-like’s gullet, like sinking into slick, soft quicksand. Link squirms, trying to regain his bearings. The like-like’s body is simply one long tube of digestive tract, but the more Link moves, the deeper he slides into its system.

He stops, then, and just holds himself still, as still as he’s able, until the cilia stop pushing and he’s probably as deep as he’s likely to be. An arm’s reach above his head, Link can see the open roof of the temple through the like-like’s gasping mouth. His hands are pinned though, as is his entire body; Link can barely crane his neck back to look up. The cilia are thicker this far down, their texture coarser and harder than the ones at the monster’s mouth. Their movements are steady and unified as the like-like sloshes back and forth along the floor, but their hold does not loosen.

This is inconvenient, Link considers. He’d hoped to be done with this dungeon by nightfall, perhaps head back into town for a proper dinner and maybe a bed at the inn. He’d be lucky to fight his way out of this place by noon tomorrow at this rate.

The hard, slick head of a cilium digs uncomfortably into Link’s belly. His tunic has long since been soaked through with the like-like’s digestive fluids, but the sensation of cilia sliding directly against his skin surprises him. Link looks down at himself: his clothes have already started being digested. Deeply annoyed, Link gives a vengeful twist to the cilium nearest his left hand. Thrice damned like-likes, Link thinks, twisting again and hoping that it caused the monster some pain, or at least indigestion. Like-likes were always the most inconsiderate. Now what is he going to wear after he gets out of this? He can’t run naked through a dungeon. That’s just inviting trouble.

Link digs his blunt fingernails into the cilium’s round tip, then yanks on it with an abrupt jerk of his wrist. What a stupid creature, like-likes, Link is thinking, when suddenly, the cilium erupts in digestive fluid against his hand. Startled, Link pulls his hand back – he can. The spent cilium flaps limply upon the like-like’s inner wall. Oh, Link thinks, rubbing the viscous fluid speculatively between two fingers. Oh.

His right hand next, and after another stuttering spurt of fluid, his two hands at once, crossed awkwardly over his chest to grasp at two cilia harassing his face. The one in his left hand finishes first, its fluid releasing without warning. Link flinches back, but it catches him in the face anyway. Before he has time to react, the other cilium releases, and he’s hit again. Digestive fluid slides down his face; licking his lips, Link catches a drop of it on the tip of his tongue. It’s salty, slightly bitter, but hardly intolerable.

His mouth in the game now, Link can now work at three cilia at once, and work goes much more quickly. He’d lost his boots sometime in he meanwhile; this space in between his toes squidge with the fluids leaking from the cilia, running down his body. It seems to him that the like-like’s movements have become more pointed, cilia pressing urgently at all parts of his body. Link had gone through perhaps ten, maybe fifteen cilia at that point, and there was little point denying it anymore: he is quite enjoying himself.

He liked the stroking well enough, liked running his nails lightly along the length of each cilium, polishing the slick ends of them with his thumb, liked the quiver and urgent push of them in the moments before they released their fluids. He even liked sucking, liked the weight of the cilia on his tongue and pressing his lips against the inner wall of the like-like’s body as he swallowed down around each cilium’s smooth head. With cilia pushing against his thighs and cock and belly, tickling his feet, he wonders if he can bring any more of them off with the other parts of his body. He crosses his legs together at the ankles and cilia crowd to fill the neat space between his thighs, knocking against his balls with every rhythmic retreat.

The cilium that slides sly and slick into the cleft of his arse is thicker than the others and sends a broken shudder through his body as he presses back against it. Groping blindly with his hand, he finds that, from the feel of things, there is an entire row of cilia appetisingly thicker and longer than the others. He tilts back his arse and another one of the thicker cilia nudges into place between his arsecheeks.

He gets a couple off just like that, but then one catches on the ridge of his arsehole and dips briefly in before splattering the small of his back with fluids and going limp. Link pushes musingly up against the next cilium in line to take a turn at his arse. He hadn’t thought of that. He chastises himself for overlooking what was so obvious, what would not only contribute to his progress towards freedom, but would also satisfy the only part of his body so far woefully neglected.

His fingers slick from a dozen cilia, Link reaches back and pushes easily into himself, two fingers two knuckles deep without even trying. He cautiously scissors himself open, his sticky eyelids fluttering open and shut against the slow burn. The cilium was still sliding between his legs, nudging aimlessly at his perineum. Link holds himself open, his weight on his toes, partially suspended by the cilia pushing and sliding against him. The fingers of both hands grip tight on either buttock, plainly offering. But when the cilium misses for the third time, Link reaches behind himself to guide it in. It kisses briefly against his opening and the first inch pushes in, but when Link settles his weight back down on his heels, it slips again.

Link makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, and that vibration is enough, at least, to send the cilium in his mouth into spasming release. He pulls off before it finishes, turning his head in annoyance to see what the problem is. Most of the fluid lands in his hair, on his face, but Link doesn’t even bother with it. He has so much fluid on him and in him now, another cilium worth isn’t going to make a difference.

The row of thicker cilium by his arse is a bit high up for his arsehole, even given the changing geography of the like-like’s movements. He tries again to lift himself up to it, but it’s too slick and slides away again. Frustrated, his own release close but not close enough, he mutters irritably to none of them in particular, “I just want you to fuck me, I just want to come with something in my arse, is that so hard?”

To fit it in his arse, he needs a leg up. With a bit of shifting and squirming, Link wiggles his way up a couple of inches, his feet now held up by the pair of cilia which had rubbed at his ankles, his hands grasping at two untouched cilia for leverage. Gingerly, he lowers himself down and is pleased to find his flesh parting readily for the cilia and its steady upward curve. Even with the slick and the like-like’s wobbling and the weight of his own body, it takes Link several moments to sink even half of the way down. His muscles burning softly and feeling well-enough full, Link rolls himself up and down, moving against the motion of the travelling like-like, supporting himself with his hands and feet rubbing on other cilia. This is good, he thinks, feeling the hazy cloud of pleasure thicken behind his eyes. He likes bathing in the slick, the innumerable cilia he’s had in his body, the subtle difference to the taste of each release. He likes getting fucked, and this is a most excellent fucking.

He’s close now, feels the pressure building in his limbs, tightening his balls. He drops one hand from the cilia to wrap around his own cock, then the other to squeeze at his balls and to dip slyly into his arsehole beside the cilium.

His toes are curling, he’s so close, so he increases his pace, tugs harder on his prick, stuffs another finger alongside the cilium, stretching. He’s so close he doesn’t even register the cilium underneath his right foot finishes, and then, with hardly a moment’s difference, the one beneath his left foot as well. Stepholds suddenly vanished, the cilium in Link’s arse takes all his weight, all at once. Link slips down, taking all of the cilium into his body, all at once, three fingers still shoved in beside it, he hardly has the awareness to cry out in shock when the pleasure and the pain and the pressure mount all at once. He comes violently and unexpectedly, so hard and so fast he forgets himself afterwards, doesn’t even have the presence of mind to regain his foothold, just hangs there supported by nothing but the cilium up his arse and the slight incline to the like-like’s body.

The cilium is still hard, Link notes dazedly. It would be more expedient to just get it off with his arse than to climb off it and use something else. He draws his knees up and pushes his feet against the soft, opposite wall of the like-like’s body. It gives beneath his weight but holds while he pushes himself up and down, grinding at the base, tightening as he draws himself back up. The head of the cilia is somewhere nearly sixteen inches inside of him, he considers and feels the first stirrings of arousal at that thought.

It’s to naught though, because just as he begins to harden again, the cilium comes, floods him so deep that barely anything drips back out again as he’s dropped onto the floor of the like-like’s digestive tube. He’s gone in the wrong direction, Link thinks absently, but that’s when the cilia on the floor rouse to life, thick and long and gleaming with slick in the dim light. Link wraps his fingers around one of one delicately, disbelievingly. He can’t touch his thumb with his fingertips. He draws his hand away and swallows. His mouth waters.

He’s on his knees and occupied to full capacity, and it’s his third round, or fourth, he can’t remember. The timing is always a little off; either the one in his mouth, the ones in his hands, or the one in his ass come early and he has to get the others off while he’s still hard, or he gets off first and has to finish the cilia, at the end of which means he’s up for another round again. It’s beautifully frustrating, the best of dilemmas.

The cilium in his mouth quivers and heats, which Link has learnt means that it is close, and so he takes his mouth off it and concentrates on grinding and swivelling with his hips. The one in his arse needs to catch up which, frankly, he’s a bit insulted by; his arse is as slick and tight as any mouth: better, since even his mouth can’t do some of the things his pelvic floor can do.

He’s noticed the cilia on the floor of the like-like’s cavity are more intelligent than the ones on the walls; perhaps not more intelligent, but more responsive to stimuli. Link had taken no small pleasure in teasing the ones before by rocking only alternately into the one in his mouth or the one in his arse and had enjoyed how they seemed to try to chase him when he drew back.

Absently, but not without a little intent in mind, Link licks at the head of the cilium by his mouth, kisses the tip and watches it struggle to reach after him when he sat back on his heels.

Laughing a bit darkly, Link watches it strain and tells it patiently, “You’ll get your turn, hush. Just let me take care of your friends here –” he gives either cilia in his hands a pointed tug – “and I’ll get right back to you.”

The cilium is still for a moment in which Link considers that that hasn’t happened before, when suddenly it surges up and over. Link falls back in surprise, but the like-like’s insides have changed shape again, folded over. The cilium presses against his lips now with an air of what Link is sure is frustrated determination. “All right, all right,” he tells it lightly. “You win,” and obligingly opens his mouth.

This is very different, Link thinks, though not entirely unpleasant. The cilia pushes deeper into his throat than he could have taken it alone and the pace it sets is punishing at best, terrifying at worst. Link can take it though. The walls of the like-like folded over like this is a very different feeling; it’s like he’s being pressed by bodies on all sides, with one settled heavily between his legs using his mouth and his arse simultaneously. He’s stopped trying to modulate, just lets the cilium fuck his mouth, sucking hard and lapping with his tongue whenever it draws the tip of it out of his throat.

The cilium finishes abruptly, shoots down his throat at a time when he’s thankfully ready to accept it. It flops wetly out of his mouth and hits him on the chin as he swallows and sits up, the cilium in his arse still pumping slowly, regularly.

There’s three left; he’s had all the others. Three chances to get it right, theoretically, even if he knows it won’t be true. He hopes, if anything, he finishes first. He doesn’t want to have to come with his own fingers up his arse; how depressingly common would that be?

He straddles the cilium still in his arse, pulling it out a bit in the process, but he keeps the tip of it in. He sits back slow and gets up on his knees again even slower, but building speed. Quick up, quicker down, he sets, and screws shut his eyes, concentrating on the rising levels of his own pleasure. The cilium begins to quiver and finishes soon after but the next one is close by and readily on hand. Link doesn’t start off slow with this one, just pulls it between his legs and stuffs it in as soon as he touches it, riding it so hard his teeth click with every jostle of his slack jaw. His thighs burn but he’s almost there, he’s almost there when suddenly he feels another pressure at his arsehole, pushing in alongside the one already up his arse. It’s too late to stop himself, so he sits down upon them, both of them, sliding against one another in his arse and shifting when he draws them back out. He can take it, so he does. Again. Again. Again.

Then he draws himself up too far, and one of the cilia spills out unexpectedly and slides along beneath his ballsack and hooks underneath his cock in a long line of heat painted wetly along the vein. His arse feels suddenly empty, but it’s the heat that does it and the sight of another cock alongside his own. He comes, and his vision blacks out around the edges, his thighs clench as do his every muscle, his insides spasming in waves. The cilium alongside his cock finishes with him, and as he falls back, the one in his arse finishes as well, fluid leaking long trails down his buttocks, the backs of his thighs.

The like-like has stopped moving as well, and the way out is clear. Link looks up. He’s free, if he wants to be.