#TAZ November Celebration

[entguarde]

COMING IN HOT FOR DAY 12 OF TAZ NOVEMBER CELEBRATION!!! GIVE IT UP FOR MISSING PIECE [breaking it down sensitive style] @taznovembercelebration

[ID: A digital painting of Magnus Burnsides and Fischer the Voidfish from The Adventure Zone in a recreation of Michelangelo’s “The Creation of David.”

Magnus, shown here as a muscular and hairy trans man, has warm brown skin and dark, fluffy hair and even fluffier sideburns. He has brown eyes and many scars, most notably his top surgery scars. He is wearing white boxers with little rubber ducks on them and his Bureau of Balance bracer.

In front of him is Fischer; it is a humongous jellyfish-like creature, mainly resembling a stygiomedusa and a moon jellyfish. It is deep indigo, with its bell almost resembling a galaxy. It has many tendrils, many of which spread out of view.

Magnus is floating idly on his side, staring at Fischer in awe. He is stretching out an arm and Fischer, in turn, stretches out a tendril. A flash of light emerges just before the two touch. End description.]

[karkatwaddles]

Taz November Celebration: Day 1

Park your memories at the door because my first prompt is Forget!

@taznovembercelebration

Davenport scene makes me sad.

Featuring @entguarde design!

[ceilingfan5]

boy enrichment

happy friday! another one for @taznovembercelebration "YES"

“So like, I don’t know any of this nerd shit,” Taako says, flipping his hair a little. “But the lil’ man wants to play, and I want him to get to play, because the next time he gets the zoomies and I have to play Risk I’m gonna fuckin’ Risk It All, you know what I mean? No offence, Ango.” 

“None taken, sir! If I took offence at all of your flippant and seemingly disparaging comments made to distance yourself from real feelings and maintain the dangerously seductive comfort of irony, I’d be in a sorry state, probably!” Angus grins a great big gap toothed grin, not even looking at Taako, who just sort of accepts this as normal. Both of them look at Kravitz expectantly, and he, stunned, realized he’s meant to be formulating an answer and not just being more floored than the sad, sad fucking arcade carpet he won’t replace because he’d have to lose like, a WEEK of business. 

Also it’s vintage. 

“But I’m not!” Angus says, probably for Kravitz’s benefit, and also as a politer way to kick someone under the table, especially when you cannot kick under the counter of his game store. 

“Right,” Kravitz says. “So you want to play DnD.”

“Oh, more than anything, sir!” Angus does a little wiggle that betrays the absolute carbonated excitement lurking under his carefully controlled little bow-tie ass calm. “But even, perhaps, if it were possible to be more than anything and then more than that again, as how some infinities are larger than other infinities, as you may remember from the siren song of calculus, I really, really want to DM!”

“You want to DM?” Kravitz eyes the ten year old. Ten? He thinks Taako said ten. He might have also said five, and that’s definitely not true. Probably. No, definitely. Five is like double toddler. Right? Double and a half? “Dungeon Master,” Angus says helpfully, opening his mouth and taking a thrilled deep breath to elaborate ‘for Kravitz’s benefit’. 

“Right. Well, sh- heck, young man, uh, I admire your enthusiasm,”

“Don’t worry, you can swear in front of me! I’m perfectly well aware of what sort of words you say in what sort of situations. In fact, I’ve been learning a lot about code-switching, and-”

“Hey, lil’man, you gotta win the sale to infodump,” Taako nudges in a stage whisper.

“Right!!!!!” Angus straightens up, vibrating like a Looney Toons arrow. “Regardless, would it be possible to DM at your game store Mr. Kravitz? I promise I would follow any rules and guidelines you set out as appropriate based on your store code of conduct, even if they’re stupid, and Taako can help me bring snacks if that is acceptable!”

Kravitz laughs, getting the hang of it now. He gets it. Maybe he doesn’t get Angus specifically yet, or even kids in general, but oh, does he recognize this flavor. And he would fucking love to enable it as far as he’s allowed. 

“You know what, I do think I have an open table. I’ll put out feelers and see who’s interested. Do you mind a rotating party, or would you prefer to lock in for a certain amount of time?”

“Hmmmm,” Angus says, screwing up his face and clearly mentally flipping through his campaign notes. “Let me consider and prioritize.”

“Yeah, you consider and prioritize, maybe shop around a little, and I’ll chat with your, uh,”

“Taako,” Taako smoulders, which provides no fucking context whatsoever. Who are you to him. ELABORATE!!

“Taako,” Kravitz agrees with a smile. 

Angus bolts off so fast to look at the campaign books and dice that he leaves an Angus-shaped cloud behind, and Taako and Kravitz stifle laughter, because it’s still not like, a huge store, and the little guy probably hears everything he isn’t supposed to. 

“Precocious,” Kravitz says fondly. “You don’t know the half of it,” Taako sighs. “I can’t keep up with him half the time. But man, he cares so hard it wears a hole through me and when I eat it falls out of me like a cartoon skeleton.”

“So true.” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. They’re more the same than Taako may realize. They reek of the same vibe, like the kind of candle you wanna take a big bite out of. “He’s yours?”

“Insomuch as a stray cat is yours, you know?” Taako leans on the game counter and sigh, toying with his hair again, which Kravitz recognizes is a flirting technique and is somehow still kneecapped by. “Like, you can be like, hey, who the fuck lets cats outside? They’re gonna decimate the goddamn bird population, and then where will we be?”

“Ten percent less birdful,” Kravitz says, like that’s a reasonable thing any person has ever said on planet Earth, ever. 

Taako nods, which does nothing to discourage Kravitz’s bullshit. 

“But like, seriously, his legal guardians don’t do shit, and yadda yadda yadda,”

“Plot plot lore,  Kravitz agrees. 

“He’s mine, sort of. He comes and eats my food, at least, you know, when he doesn’t have to fight possums for it.” 

“Does the possum have a name?” Kravitz grins. 

“Garyl,” Taako says, whipping back just as fast. Fuck, Kravitz is obsessed with him. Damn, he had things to do. “He used to be a binicorn in another life, but he can’t escape the cycle, so he came back as a trash gargler. His favorite cheese is provolone.”

“Ooh, mild,” Kravitz says, so outside of himself at the moment that he could pause the livestream and do football drawings and commentary on his own stupid face putting these noises in this order. But Taako laughs, so it’s worth it. He looks at Angus, who is carefully inspecting the Bucket O’ Dice, and digging frantically for one he’s spotted in the very bottom. “I almost want to go open another pound of dice and pour them in, you know, for uh…boy enrichment.”

“Boy enrichment is the name of the game,” Taako agrees. “That tiger needs beefier meat pumpkins than cha’boi can provide. I can’t keep up with him, seriously. I was hoping maybe you’d know more about this shit?”

“Yeah, a little,” Kravitz massively understates, feeling a glowing, strong bond form between him and this alleycat of a kid. “I’d love to let him find his footing here, if you want. And if people want to be freaks about it, I’m not having it.”

“Fuck yeah,” Taako mumbles. “Knew I could trust a pretty guy like you. No one’s snapped you up yet?”

“Too goth and weird,” Kravitz laments, like he isn’t having a heart attack about being called pretty. “I’m as single as the day is long.” 

“Well, it’s Daylight Savings Time, bitch, and it’s about to get real dark.” 

“Are you-” Kravitz can’t help but laugh. “Are you announcing your intentions to pursue me?”

“Is it working?” Taako winks. 

“Yes,” Kravitz has to admit. “Yes it is."

[ID: a gameboard with 15 spaces, 1-5 taken up by stickers of a cat, a fish, "good worker", a door, and a dragon]

[anistarrose]

for @taznovembercelebration prompt: Vampire AU, except minus the AU portion! this is a canon compliant, mid-Stolen Century vampire fic :3

Upon awakening in an inexplicably cramped position, Barry Bluejeans notices, in order:

an empty feeling in his stomach,

a dull pain in the side of his neck, and

his own weight in cold, gritty soil piled atop of him, smelling of decay and blocking out all light.

He’s not going to panic. He can do anything but panic, he insists to himself. If he dies, he’ll just be back in a few months, remember? He’s not going to inhale any dirt, and he’s going to scour his last memories, calmly, for an explanation.

He was — he was searching for the Light. Same as always, really. And he was with Lucretia — but she was out of his sight, and so he was probably out of hers, when —

When he got jumped. He crit-failed a perception check, got jumped, and now he’s… buried alive?

This doesn’t add up. Not the fact that someone would bury him alive — he and the crew have died enough times that he figured it might as well happen to the unluckiest among them, eventually — but he doesn’t understand how he actually is handling it how he told himself he should, and not losing his entire mind already. He’s worried; he would very much like not to be in this situation, but he’s not panicking — and that’s a downright uncharacteristic lack of hyperventilating, or pounding heartbeat.

But now, come to think of it — he doesn’t seem to be breathing at all, for that matter. Or feel any heartbeat in his chest, nor a pulse beneath his chin.

Because he doesn’t have a fucking better guess than the first thing that pops into his head, he runs his tongue across his front few teeth — and yep, his incisors are a lot sharper than he remembers.

(keep reading on ao3!)

[gnarlystarships]

@taznovembercelebration I have finally pulled a third card and got "sweet" lol

Argo with an orange slice 🍊

[taznovembercelebration]

oh shit it's November again

This time we are drawing cards and completing a game board! please share this post so people know what's up!

Choose a reward you can give yourself, choose a goal, and then draw cards here!

Each day you want to participate, draw a card (redraw if it isn't for you or doesn't feel right that day) and make something cool based off the prompt, like a ficlet, a playlist, visual art, an art object, a collage, or something else entirely! you can even count things like writing a detailed post about your thoughts on a given TAZ related subject, or even telling a friend about a real good daydream you dreamed real hard.

The point is that we get through November, have a good time, and think about TAZ. It's entirely self-paced, and self driven, no quotas, no deadlines, no stress. just making, sharing, enjoying.

If you want to share your work, @ this blog, @taznovembercelebration, and I'll reblog it when I can! November is crazy, which is why we want to help each other through it.

Again, the prompts are here.

Select a game board or make your own!

[ID: a space themed board game board with 15 spaces and the shutterstock logo still on]

[ID: a nature themed board game with 20 spaces and the shutterstock logo still on]

[ID: a space themed board game with animal astronauts, 29 spaces, and the logo still on]

Feel free to make your own board game, take your own from a quick image search like i did, or record your progress in a way that doesn't hold you to an end result.

if you have questions, send this blog an ask. don't forget to share the cool stuff that others make!! it's all about spreading a little light in the darkness.

Here we go!!

[barry-j-blupjeans]

TAZ NC Day 2: Fake Dating

@taznovembercelebration

"It's bad, Taako," Lup said as soon as the car door was shut. "It's real bad."

Taako had to be honest— he had no fuckin' clue what was happening anymore. He and Lup had never gone to different schools before and it was weird being out of her direct ring of things-that-are-happening. It was for the best, 'cus there was no way he could have survived trying to get a science degree. And he knew Lup loved cooking, but culinary arts was not for her. Ever. Keep her away from the building, thank you very much. Yeah, sure, she'd kill this degree, but it was the principle of the thing.

So he had only been getting outside reports of whatever was happening over at Neverwinter University. But apparently, it was a lot. While Taako was over here, blissed out on weed brownies, Lup was doin'… something. Again, he didn't really understand what was happening anymore. But Lup didn't even wait for an answer before continuing.

"I asked him on a date," Lup said, buckling herself in with more force than necessary. Taako took the car out of park (look at him! He could drive! Take that, driving instructor one through five.) and attempted to maneuver his way out of the parking lot.

"That sounds like a good thing?" Taako said.

"It's not," Lup said. "It's not a real date."

"A- and that means??"

"It's not a real date," Lup said again. "I fuckin— well, first off, Greg fucking Grimaldis—"

"Fuck him," Taako said.

"Yeah, fuck him— but he was very loudly promoting his fuckin'… casino or whatever that he's inheriting. And he so graciously invited us to an event that's being hosted there about— god, I'm too angry to remember what the stupid event is for. But he was like, oh, don't bother showing up without a date though, it's a couple's event, like I fuckin' know whatever that means—"

"It just sounds like bait," Taako said. How the hell did he leave this parking lot again? He felt like he had been turning left for like, three entire minutes.

"And then I was like, "of course, I have a date". And he was like, "oh yeah? Who?". And Barry was right there, so—"

Ah, Barry Bluejeans. Taako had heard way too fuckin' much about Barry Bluejeans. Lup kept trying to deny any romantic feelings she felt towards him, but Taako knew better. Or, well, Taako had eyes and ears and the way Lup spoke about Barry Bluejeans left nothing up to the imagination. Normally Taako would have liked to meet the man that his sister had fallen in love with but honestly, he's in a place in his life where he gets assignments about spaghetti so it's not like anything makes sense anymore.

"So it was less like you asked him and more like you are going to force him—"

"I asked!" Lup said, sitting up in her car seat. If she had noticed the several loops Taako had taken around the parking lot, she hadn't said. "After, I mean. I asked after. And y'know how Barry's like, he's gonna say yes to everything 'cus he feels bad about saying no. So I had to clarify that we weren't actually dating to, y'know, make it seem better— I don't wanna seem like I'm using him, Taako, I just— babe, if you had seen Grimaldis's face when I said that. And Barry fuckin' backed me up, too!"

Taako slammed on the brakes as someone tumbled into his car. And then onto the ground. Lup froze. Taako froze, too. And then started slowly backing up.

"Taako, we gotta— we gotta check—"

"Yeah, yeah," Taako said, pulling the car back a few inches. He shifted back into park and undid his seat belt. Lup was out of the car before him and when he opened the door, he caught the end of

"-arry!"

Aw, fuck.

"Oh, uh." Taako rounded the car, coming face to face with the new voice. It was a short man with concerningly thick glasses. He was wearing an honest-to-god sweater vest and bluejeans of all things. Lup was holding his hand, looking at the scruffed up flesh on his palm. He didn't look super injured or concussed. Taako had been going to stupid five miles and hour that this parking lot demanded of him. "It's— it's fine, Lup, really—"

"My guy, you just got hit with a car—"

"It was five miles an hour," Taako said, leaning against the driver's side door. "Nice to meet'cha, Barold."

"Uhm." Barry blinked a few times, looking between him and Lup.

"You're not concussed," Taako said. "We're twins."

"Uh," Barry said, eloquently. Man, this is the guy Lup was planning to fake-date? Good lord.

"You might be concussed, though," Lup said, turning Barry toward her. "Did you hit your head?"

"No, uh, no I'm good," Barry said. "Just, uhm— surprised! Haha."

This was awful. The worst part is that if Barry wasn't concussed, this was just his regular way of talking. Taako felt himself getting a headache. But Lup gave a smile that was all goopy and warm and, ugh. Taako kinda wished he had been going faster. He got back into the car, watching with a scrutinizing gaze as Barry and Lup talked.

And talked.

And talked.

Taako got out his phone, pulling up the group chat he shared with Magnus and Merle.

Gonna be late to game night, boys. I've got Lup and Barry Bluejeans existing in the same place.

Magnus sent back a saluting emoji.

[taakosleftshoe]

1st day of @taznovembercelebration and I got meow. Of course i would.

Meowntrose Kitty, a dear friend of mine, came to mind immediately. And well. Who would a gentleman thief be without his crew?

my tracker for this event will be at the bottom of all the posts i do for it :3

[noodyl-blasstal]

King of the (bouncy) Castle

It's @taznovembercelebration day 17 and today I drew the prompt "soft"

Read below or on Ao3 if you prefer. Missed yesterday's? Find it here.

-

“Ko!” Lup yells from the hall.

“What?” He screams from his bedroom, because he’s still deciding on what to wear and if it’s that urgent she can come in.

“Do you know anyone else?”

“In general? Or?”

“Don’t be a dick. Do you know anyone who can come today?”

“Why?”

“Magnus had to drop out.”

“We can win without him.”

“A team is four people.”

“Ask Dav.”

“He’s racing today”

“Lucretia?”

“She just laughed until I hung up. It was a solid 3 minutes.”

“Merle?”

“I’m going to need you to work from the assumption that I have remembered our joint friends with whom we spend all our time”

“But seriously, Merle.”

“Taako, I have tried everyone we jointly know. He said he was going to be busy in the greenhouse, and then he said some other things. Would you like me to tell you what those other things are? Because I can. I can tell you exactly what he had planned for the onions because he told me because I had him on speaker phone and I got trapped in my shirt and he said a lot of words before I could hang up. They’re burned into my brain forever and cha’girl is happy to share that burden.”

“No! Lulu, don’t! I’ll cast silence.”

“I’ll counterspell it. Now start thinking of people.”

“Angus?”

“I also know Angus, and he’s a literal child.”

“He’s, what, 6 now?”

“He’s eleven, Taako, you baked him a cake in the shape of the number for his birthday two weeks ago.” There’s no need for Lup to slander him like this.

“Eleven! That’s basically an adult for humans, right?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you going to stop doing special magic boy lessons with him because he’s all grown up now?” Lup goes for the jugular. He doesn’t have to stand for this cruelty, for the implication that he actually likes spending time with the baby.

“What aboutttt… erm…” Taako changes the topic seamlessly and casts his mind furiously about for a name, any name, of a person Lup wouldn’t have already called. There’s one that popped up as soon as Lup asked and he’s trying his best to see round it but it keeps sidling into his eye line. He can’t though. It’d be a disaster. “Errrrr… Brian.”

“No. Absolutely anyone else.”

“What’s wrong with Brian?”

“He’s in a cult!”

“But apart from the cult stuff he’s lovely.”

“Taako! Do you want to win or not?”

Fine. Fine! Taako does very much want to win, especially after Lydia tripped him last year.

“Kravitz.” He says it fast, like he’s ripping off a plaster. Maybe Lup won’t put two and two together.

“The guy from work?”

“No?”

“Oh, you know another Kravitz, do you?”

“Yes?”

“Is any of that supposed to have convinced me?”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

“So… different Kravitz? How do you know Kravitz-Who’s-Not-From-Work? Why do you have a way of getting in touch with him?” Lup’s going to cling to this an unnecessary amount.

“Ooooh are we talking about Kravitz?” Barry, fucking Barry, asks. Wandering his ass right into their private conversation.

“This is a private conversation, Barold.” Yells Taako through the door of his room into the hall of their too-small shared apartment.

“Would you like me to put my noise cancelling headphones on?” Barry asks, earnestly, like he’d actually fucking do it if Taako said yes.

“Absolutely not, Barry, You live in this house and you have every right to be in this hallway.” Lup snaps. She’s still mad about last time Taako forgot to tell Barry he could take the headphones off. In his defence, he made him a cake about it. A jake, in fact, with edible press studs. Barry loved it! Plus, he was listening to one of his lectures, he was fine, happy as a clam!

“Fine.” Taako threw up his hands, no one could see him, but it felt important to do it anyway, you know, for the drama. He couldn’t argue with this, he didn’t have a choice, he may as well give in and call Kravitz, they’ve both worked together to twist his arm. “You’re making me do this though. It’s not because I want to. I’ve been compelled.”

“What?” Says Barry, perplexed. “I thought we were just talking about your crush.”

“His what?” Says Lup.

Taako springs forward and manages to flick the lock across the second before Lup tries the handle.

“You’re in love with death?” She tries the handle a few more times, as if it’ll jiggle the lock free.

“A man isn’t his job, Lup.” Taako shouts back. Denying everything.

“That wasn’t a no!”

“I have to ring him, because you’re making me. Or do you not want to win Bounce Off 2: Bounce in the City?”

There’s grumbling from the other side of the door followed by a muttered “c’mon Barold,” fakeout. Taako’s wise to it though, so he isn’t shocked by her ‘one last try’ of the door handle, or the second attempt that follows after she does fake footsteps away from the door.

“Fine! He’d better be down though and good.”

“He’s tall.” Says Barry, conversationally. He’d better not plan on telling Lup anything else.

“Good. We can use height.Is he strong?” Lup asks.

Kravitz is strong, Taako knows that for normal reasons, reasons like he can carry a lot of pastries when he orders them; and that time he helped Taako move the big table when someone spilled and he had to clean under it. Not reasons like all the time he spends staring at Kravitz’s forearms, and his thighs, and his everything else. Because he doesn’t do that. Taako would never.

“Fine. Don’t answer me.” Lup actually leaves this time, Taako pretends he can’t hear Barry telling her about Kravitz and his newfound love of coffee and baked goods.

Taako [10:23] Yo stud got a minute to chat?

It was only polite to text first, he doesn’t want to jumpscare Kravitz with a phone call, he isn’t a sadist. The three dots flashed up immediately. Thank fuck he’s awake at the crack of dawn.

Bones [10:24] Dear Taako, Of course, I’ve always got time for you. All best, Kravitz.

Taako has been trying hard not to find his ridiculous dork texts endearing. He’s failing. Badly. He ignores the squooshy feeling it gives him and hits the call button instead.

“Hello Taako, it’s lovely to hear from you!” Says Kravitz like he actually means it.

“Hey Krav, quiiiiiick q for ya. What’re you doing this morning?”

“I’m just practising.” Of course he is. Why wouldn’t Kravitz be sat straddling his giant instrument right now? Taako’s mature though, he won’t make a joke about it.

“Can’t keep your hands off your instrument, shameful!” Fuck.

“Well, someone has to keep it in tune.”

Gods, he wasn’t supposed to play along. Why did he keep flirting back? Was this whole thing actually plausible?

“Wanna spend some time with Taako instead?”

“I’d be very interested in that.” Kravitz says, buttery and glorious.

“How do you feel about inflatables?”

There’s a long pause.

“It’s not a sex thing.” Taako says, to make it less weird.

“I’m not sure that makes what you said less weird, Taako.”

“You know, like bouncy castles.”

“Okay.” Kravitz doesn’t sound particularly convinced.

“And my sister will be there.”

There’s another pause. “...And Barry?”

“Obviously.”

“Uh huh.”

Fuck, Taako’s losing him, and it’s suddenly incredibly important that Kravitz not only agree to this, but is also enthusiastic about it. “It’s a competition.” Says Taako.

“Oh?” Of course that piqued his interest, Kravitz loves competition. He tries to help harder than any other customer, tip better than anyone else, and he races people in the street.

“We lost last year, but we’ve been in training.”

“You’ve been in bouncy castle training?”

“Obstacle course training… and also trampolines.”

“Is that what the weird squeaking is when we’re on the phone sometimes?”

“What?”

“You know, the calls where you’re all breathy and there’s the squeaking noise.”

Taako didn’t realise Kravitz had picked up on that. “You didn’t think…?”

“Well now I know it’s not a sex thing.”

“You thought it was a sex thing and you stayed on the phone?”

“I don’t judge.”

“You didn’t wanna ask Taako what he was up to?”

“I know you’re a private person.”

“Not if you think Taako’s doing sex things on the phone without your consent. In fact, that’s the least private a person can be.”

“You make a compelling point.”

Taako doesn’t even begin to know what to do with that. “So… bouncing?”

“Where is it?”

“We can pick you up.”

“All three of you?”

“Barry said he’s sorry and he’ll stop asking about the ‘secret sauce.’”

“I just really don’t think it’s a respectful way to talk about embalming fluid.”

Taako thinks it’s a great way to refer to embalming fluid, but he also wants Kravitz to be happy. “He double pinky promised.”

“Oh, well if he double pinky promised.”

“Great! Pick you up in 20, wear something snazzy.”

Taako hangs up the phone before Kravitz can object or ask anything else. He has limited time and an outfit to re-plan.

[cataztrophi]

TAZ November Celebration 1: Tradition

This is the first time I'm participating in @taznovembercelebration and I love what I've seen from other artists so far! My first draw was "Tradition," and I didn't mean for it to be this sad, my apologies.

Since I've never done a month-long challenge like this before, I'm aiming for 15 pieces this year to keep it manageable. I'm so excited to see what everyone else does!

[holdmecloser-gandydancer]

So uh, it's @taznovembercelebration time yet again! I wanted to at least get one out so when i pulled Celebrity AU, i had a pretty perfect opening (because the au that lives in mine and Hali's head is constantly rotating like a chicken in my mind)

---

“So that neighbor guy.” Lup states, nary a preamble in the same square mile. She’s perched on the counter, supervising while Taako scrambles a half-dozen eggs. It’s entirely too early or perhaps too late for food, guess it just depends on your perspective. But, far be it from either of them to ever ask for someone else’s perspective.

“He’s certainly a neighbor,” Taako says. He’s not willing to take whatever bait it is that Lup’s dangling. He pokes at the eggs with a spatula and sprinkles a hefty pinch of salt on top, mixing as he goes. 

“He was remarkably kind, given how obnoxious the party was. And his pajamas were awfully cute.” 

Taako fakes a gasp. “Lup, I thought you’re with a very dashing Apple store employee! How quickly your eyes wander.” He hasn’t thought about whatshisname (Kravitz Queen in apartment 22F) since the party he so rudely intruded on. And then fell asleep at. Right at Taako’s own kitchen table. 

She groans and rolls her eyes. “Taako, you’re being purposefully obtuse.” 

“I’ve been told I’m quite acutie.” 

“Awful, I want a new brother.” 

“Sorry, no returns,” he says gleefully. He shuts the burner off and grabs two plates from the cupboard, evenly distributing the eggs across them. “Like. I dunno, Lup, what do you want me to say? He’s cute, sure, but I thought I wasn’t supposed to be pursuing new relationships right now.” That’s what all the doctors at Hollybrook suggested, anyway. He’d rolled his eyes when he first heard that, but as the months have progressed, it’s been a nice break. 

“I’m not saying you need to get married or anything, I’m just saying he’s cute and nice and a musician. Simply stating facts,” she says around a bite of scrambled eggs. “I’m supposed to be on set today, the director apparently has a bold new vision and needs some more cash to make it happen. You wanna come?”

He mulls it over for a moment. “Anyone cool? Last one you produced had that shitbag Jerre whatshisnuts and he was so smarmy at the premiere and I think if I ever saw him again I’d deck him.” 

“No Mr. Whatshisnuts, scout’s honor,” Lup says, giving him a faux-serious two-fingered salute. 

Taako snorts and rolls his eyes. “We were never scouts, goofus. But, nah. I’m going to sit this one out. Probably do some journaling and go to bed.” 

“Okay, call me if you need me. I’ll be back this afternoon, probably. Maybe we can get dinner tonight?” 

He nods. “Sounds good, be safe. Love you.”

“Love you!”

—

“—And rather than scripting this out, we feel that this sequence is going to be shown best through a kind of dream ballet scene that’ll last for about seven minutes,” The director excitedly explains to Lup. She’s trying hard to focus, she really is, but her phone seems intent on boring a hole through her leg. She sneaks a quick glance to see that she’s missed a fourth call from Lucretia. That’s never good.

“Hey, Todd, love this idea you’ve got going on. My publicist is like, blowing up my phone so let’s regroup in half an hour, okay? Okay!” She says as she extricates herself from the conversation. 

“Luce, what’s up?” Lup asks, just managing to catch this fifth call. 

“I thought Taako was off Twitter for now,” Lucretia says, sounding exasperated. 

“Uh. Well he was while he was in Hollybrook but you said it’d be cool for him to reconnect with the fans now.” 

“Remind me not to have any more stupid ideas.”

“Is it bad?” Lup hasn’t been on the damn app since the last premiere. She usually lets Lucretia handle her social media except for her Letterboxd. 

“Not bad just…thirsty?” 

Lup does her best not to laugh. Well. She makes some attempt to not laugh. “Thirsty?”

Lucretia sighs. “It started off fine, just him tweeting about this musician, but a few fan accounts started stirring the pot and. Well. I guess he’s ‘down horrendously for that kravitz guy’ as @taacocat69420 so eloquently put it.” 

“God he’s a mess,” she says fondly. “I think it’ll be fine though. Kravitz is cool. Hope this gets him some extra streams or something.” 

—

Kravitz stirs at eleven. He’s a little surprised that his alarm never went off, though a quick glance at his lockscreen lends some light to why. His notifications are atrocious. Good atrocious, it just looks like the whole internet threw up in them maybe. When he finally traces the source of why, he starts to get dressed. Best not to make another pajama clad impression. 

[yourbelgianthings]

taz november celebration fic 2: card prompt share

it’s ya boi’s first steeplechase fic, featuring emerich and montrose!! ~800 words, no tws and no spoilers @taznovembercelebration

When Emerich Dreadway and Montrose Pretty were first hired at Poppy's Place in Ustaben, they each began trying to analyze each other from the moment they met. Beef Punchley, their third coworker, seemed to have all his cards on the table for now, but between Montrose's mask and all the time Emerich spent alone back in his lab, there had to be something hidden there. As the days and weeks went by, the trio settled into their routine at the arcade: Beef took care of any problems with customers and promoted his arm wrestling game, Emerich kept everything in good working order (interacting with customers as little as possible), and Montrose was the cashier at the prize counter. Their manager was an old man named Poppy Mervin, but at their request, he just stayed in his office as much as possible. They were all perfectly competent at but extremely overqualified for these simple jobs.

Every night, each man dreamed of his own version of something better, and every morning, woke up facing another day of work, just as deeply unfulfilled. Emerich always looked forward to the arcade closing so he could go work on his own projects in his lab, where he could create things rather than simply repairing them. He would often stay up late into the night, falling asleep hunched over his worktable or onto the floor of his lab. Beef and Montrose always invited Emerich to spend time with them in the evenings, going out to dinner, playing cards (which Beef always wound up turning into some kind of bet), or whatever else they could come up with, but he rarely accepted. One night, though, Montrose told Beef it was a perfect opportunity for each of them to take some "me time". Once he was sure Beef had left, he slipped into the back and knocked on Emerich's door.

"Oh Emerich, anyone home?" he asked in his smooth southern drawl.

"Yes," replied Emerich, and as Montrose opened the door, he saw that Emerich had not moved or looked up from his work at all."

"It's good to see you, Montrose, but I don't really want to talk now."

"Well that's perfect, I don't either." He pulled up a chair on the other side of the large worktable, took some wood and a knife "borrowed" from Whittle Around out of his coat pocket, and quietly began working. His mask projected a neutral expression, but underneath, he allowed himself a slight smile. The shared quiet was deeply calming. Montrose Pretty could act his ass off, and was the smoothest talker around, often even convincing himself so much that he forgot he was playing a role. Every once in a while though, he remembered, and then it wasn't so easy. That's part of why he loved spending time at The Future is You, because there were no expectations. Sure, it was still a bit of a role, the dutiful son of the loving nuclear family, but he was doing it for himself, not because someone else wanted something from him. Emerich was surprised that Montrose had actually stayed quiet this whole time, he hadn't thought that was possible.

"Hey Montrose, take a look at this?" he asked quietly, gesturing towards the hardlight he was currently tinkering with. Montrose set down his work and got up to look over his companion's shoulder.

“Sure, Emerich, I can see it, but you're going to have to tell me what it is, unless that's some kind of trade secret." They both laughed, and Emerich excitedly launched into a detailed explanation. Montrose had never heard him talk this much before, but he could tell it came so easily when the topic was his passion.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize how long I had been going on," Emerich said, his voice tinged with shame. "You must be so bored by now."

"Not at all," Montrose reassured him. "It's fascinating, and I talk pretty much all day, so I'll take the chance to listen." He reached back across the table and set what he had been working on down on Emerich's non-slip mat: a small figure of a ghost, wearing glasses similar to Emerich's own. Before he had a chance to say thank you or anything else, Montrose had slipped out of the lab. That was okay, though. Their evening together had alleviated some of his loneliness, and he hadn't had someone care to listen to him talk about hardlight since he had been a Creationeer.

In the back bedroom, as Montrose laid down on the top bunk (Beef had the bottom one and there was a mattress on the floor for Emerich) and stared at the ceiling, he actually felt relaxed. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this way, but that didn't matter right now, he was just glad to have shared that time with Emerich.

[karkatwaddles]

Day 4 of The Taz November Event

Prompt card is resting! So we got duck sleeping on the job in the moon light

@taznovembercelebration

[ceilingfan5]

make it count

"problem" for @taznovembercelebration

Kravitz thought he was already having a weird night, but the guy tumbling out of his closet was, honestly, a real surprise. 

“AUGH, FUCK,” Kravitz says, flawlessy parried by closet guy’s “FUCK, AUGH.”

Kravitz steps back. Too far. The bed catches his ass, which hopefully looks like he sat down intentionally and didn’t reverse kneecap himself. Closet guy straightens up, long, gorgeous hair all over the place, and he spits hair out of his mouth and eyes Kravitz, steely, but also nervous, like Kravitz might be angling to kick his ass. 

Kravitz might. He hasn’t decided yet. He’s a little panicked, and he doesn’t like, WANT to call the cops, obviously, but there’s a fuckin’ dude in his closet and he’s been home for like three hours now. He’s played dad rock as high as his phone could go and danced in his boxers, and showered, and changed into pajamas, and eaten popcorn like both a horse and the tender but misunderstood delinquent girl feeding that horse and maybe that’s not necessarily something he wanted some kind of malignant fucknugget to witness.

“Who the fuck are you and how did you get in my apartment??” he demands, grabbing the nearest heavy object and brandishing his shitty lamp that makes an annoying noise when it’s on like it’s some kind of newfangled glaive-mace. 

“Who the fuck are you and where am I?” closet guy retorts aggressively, in a funny accent Kravitz can’t really place. Maybe it’s fake. Is this guy fucking with him? He’s too tired to be fucked with. He won’t allow it. 

“My apartment, asshole, keep up!” 

“Answer the first question!”

“You first!” Kravitz juts with the lamp, which is unfortunately a little flaccid, what with its flexible spine and all. He should have grabbed a shoe and just chucked it. 

“I don’t remember what you said!” the guy admits, which, okay, Kravitz kind of gets it, and it’s sort of hard to stay serious, even with his hackles up as they are. “Why are you dressed like that?”

“I’m in my pajamas!” Kravitz says, defensive. He knows the old, old Death Note t-shirt and Jack Skellington pants, which he got from the defunct K-mart mumble years ago, are not like. Flattering. BUT!! Listen. His vintage monogrammed pjs are in the dirty pile. And the dirty pile has gotten a little big, cause things have been nuts at work, and he’s worn out and exhausted and other words for fuckin’ wiped. What is it people say now. Eepy? Baby you’d best believe he’s eepy to the core like some kind of fucking blood disease. 

Man. Maybe he should get his vitamins checked. 

But also fuck you, closet guy, he’s in his own home, and no one was supposed to witness him tonight. He’s done being seen and perceived. You hear him? Done!

“Is that…so.” The guy squints at him. Kravitz would be assuming what the fuck he’s judging Kravitz on, but he kind of got lost in the attractive freckles and his long elegant fingers, and the gap in his teeth. And the hair, despite the fact that it is still all over the place, isn’t a minus. “I am Taako, prince of the elves.” 

“Oh, okay, and we’re back to zero,” Kravitz says, cheerfully realizing he’s going to have to fucking call 911 because he truly cannot figure out what the better option is. Except. He’s going to get strangled in his fucking Death Note t-shirt from 2013 because his goddamn Jack Skellington pants don’t have pockets and his phone is in the kitchen, actually, and they may not put that in his eulogy but everyone is going to know anyway, because of cringe osmosis. 

He doesn’t usually believe in cringe. Funny what imminent death does to your philosophy. 

“Why is that?” Taako squints at him, tucking hair behind his ears. And, shit, maybe he’s done costume work for whatever the fuck this is, maybe he’s had some insane plastic surgery, but his ears truly are crazy pointy. Not even elf in a movie pointy, like ten, twelve inches long, and they flick when Taako touches them. Kravitz reorients some facts, none of which add up, and he struggles.

“I’m Kravitz,” he says, against both his good judgement and his judgement he uses when his good judgement is dirty. 

Taako squints at him harder. Kravitz wonders if he should put the lamp down, especially considering it knocked over his wifi router which is blinking frantically like some kind of crying electric beast, but honestly whatever at this point. Like, is he going to die? Shit, then at least he doesn’t have to work tomorrow, you know? Sorry mama, he promises he cares, mostly. 

“Assistant head of sales,” he adds. Taako considers this at length. 

“I think I took the wrong portal,” he decides. He turns back to the closet, which reveals that he has a tail, actually, for real, as far as Kravitz can gather, and puts his hands on his enticing hips in frustration when he finds Kravitz’s bullshit mess of Work clothes, Dress Up clothes, Play clothes, and Nobody Can See Me Fuck Off clothes. And also four wigs, his heated blanket, the printer he’s mad at, an embarrassing amount of hangers,  and two paper boxes full of dumb garbage he can’t let go of from two moves ago. And some glitter. Shut up is why. 

"What the fuck is going on?" Kravitz demands. 

"Well," Taako says, with deep conviction, and doesn't finish. He turns back to face Kravitz. That tail flicks dismissively, still somehow incredibly appearing to be legitimate. Kravitz eyes him over, takes in his elaborate and scrumbled suit-gown of purple and gold gossamer and his thighs high boots and his golden eye makeup and also the way he keeps glancing at Kravitz's pajama pants. 

"Well?" Kravitz prompts. "You realize you're in Austin, Texas?" 

"Nah, uh," Taako looks a little pale now. "Chaboi was in Phandolin, in uh, Faerun, the fuck is a Texas?" 

So true. 

"Don't you dare tell me you hopped through a portal in my closet like reverse Narnia." 

"Narnia?" 

Man. Maybe Kravitz will hit him with the lamp. Shame he's so pretty. 

"I don't have time for this," he mutters. "You always watch those fantasy movies and they just handle it, but I don't have- what am I supposed to do, call in an elf prince personal day? If I'm going to take an elf prince personal day you can bet- sorry, I…" Kravitz winces. Just because he wants this to be fake doesn't mean there isn't a situation at hand. 

"I mean, Taako is all for an elf prince personal day if it means what I think it means." Taako grins, showing surprisingly sharp teeth, which Kravitz feels totally regular about, no details thanks. "I was running from some assholes who wanted to murder me. I mean, I don't necessarily think monarchy is the way of the future either, but you don't see me assassing about it." 

"Well, no monarchy here." Kravitz can't help but be glib. He finally puts the stupid lamp down. Just on the bed. No way he's sleeping anytime soon. This makes the cord pull taut. His sad router just slumps onto the floor. Taako jumps and inspects its flashing lights, alarmed but also kind of fascinated. 

"No?" He glances at Kravitz, and back at the lights. "Sick. That sounds easier."

"Well, it's not like there's no- we don't have to do politics. Hey, Taako, if I take this as nonfiction, which I am not committed to, and do not faint, which I am also not committed to, what the fuck am I meant to do next?"

"I mean either we take that elf prince personal day, really make it count, or uh, you magic me back home, mister?" 

"Magic isn't real!" Kravitz runs his hands down his face, excruciatingly aware of the comedy of the situation. 

"Ah," Taako says, really tasting the gravity here. "Guess there's no option but to fuck me." 

"Now hang on," Kravitz says, struggling not to laugh. 

"No, I'm right, probably." 

[anistarrose]

midlife crises, laboratory niceties

some pre-Stolen Century office shenanigans for the @taznovembercelebration prompt: "silly!"

“Barry! Thank gods you’re in early — the Light’s missing, the whole Research department’s running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and I need help finding it before some suit on the executive board cancels the whole —”

Davenport rounds the corner of the lab, takes one look at what he sees the esteemed Dr. Bluejeans working on, and stops dead in his tracks. “Oh, Barry. Gods fucking damn it, you didn’t…”

Only then does the man himself — the Institute’s foremost planar orbital expert, one of the half-dozen patent holders on the bond engine prototype, the expected eventual Fantasy Nobel Laureate, and one of the only damn lab coats in Research that Davenport trusts — look up from his desk, blinking slowly and with visible confusion.

“The Light’s missing? No, that can’t be right. I’ve got it right here, Cap!” His voice is a little hoarse, and genuinely oblivious.

Gods, Davenport thinks, maybe there’s no damn lab coats in Research that he trusts. These pure scientists, pure mathematicians, and pure arcanists — they never think anything through. Maybe engineering would fix them. Would fix this.

“Barry, I —” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Dr. Bluejeans. I have nothing but respect for, for your discoveries in this laboratory, as does any member of the Institute, but — but — but does this look like where a tool of the gods is supposed to be studied?!”

(keep reading on ao3!)

[gnarlystarships]

@taznovembercelebration

First card I pulled was "eyes" 👁