thank you griffin mcelroy for all the lgbtq+ representation in taz !!!
taako and kravitz: transmutatin some borrowed ravens into gay romance doves roswell: good agender birb speaking with the earth to grow some flowers carey and killian: watering some fellow lesbians lup: my trans gal be providin sunlight and fireworks!! sloane and hurley: becoming badass gay dryads and save a child
Peter watched from the door as his dad swung around the room like a whirlwind, grabbing his keys from the side of the counter and then turning on his heel. “Right- where’s Peter?”
“Here, dad,” Peter rolled his eyes, walking out into the kitchen with a sandwich stuffed between his hands, “just chill out, okay, you’re only gonna be gone for the night and Uncle Rhodey’s coming ‘round in like, ten minutes- I think I’ll survive until then. Anyway- I still think you could’ve just left me here for the night on my own, I’m not a baby-”
“Pete,” his dad looked at him incredulously, “you’re ten. And you have a horrible tendency of blowing things up when left unsupervised for extended periods of time. You think I’m just gonna let you wander the house for a night?”
“JARVIS would have looked after me,” Peter groused moodily, just as Steve walked into the room behind him and picked him up, putting him on the counter so he wouldn’t get in the way of their movement.
“You love Rhodey, don’t pretend,” Steve stated, peering at his hair in the mirror, “you’ll have a great time with him.”
Peter rolled his eyes again, swinging his legs against the counter until his dad clipped him over the head lightly, “you’ll mark the paint,” he commented, grabbing one of Peter’s ankles and raising an unimpressed eyebrow, “and I want you on your best behaviour tonight, alright? You promise?”
Peter huffed, but nodded. He knew it was rare that him and Steve got to go out; too busy looking after him and juggling their work at the same time- so he didn’t exactly want to be the one who ruined it for them. “Fine- I promise,” he said, and his dad smiled, chucking him under the chin.
“Good. Now- where was I? I was looking for something, right?” He turned around again, only to bump into Steve, who was holding dad’s phone in front of his face with one of those stupid sappy looks on his face.
Dad just smiled, taking it from Steve’s grip and kissing him. “You know me too well,” he mumbled against Steve’s mouth, before breaking away and pocketing the phone. “Alright- think we’re set.” He turned back to Peter, ducking down and kissing him quickly on the forehead. “You gonna be alright on your own?” He said, frowning a little.
Peter just groaned. “Yes yes yes, Dad, I’ll be fine. Just go out have fun- I promise not to turn the oven into a bomb or anything.”
His dad sighed, and Steve laughed, leaning forward and ruffling Peter’s hair. “Be good, don’t walk into any roads, you know the drill-”
“Ugh, Steve,” Peter looked at the ceiling, exasperated, “that was three years ago. Can’t you just drop it?”
“I’ll drop it when the scar fades, buddy,” Steve laughed, pointing to the thin white line that ran across his forehead as him and Dad began to back away to the door.
“You’re the worst!” Peter called out after him, rolling his eyes and trying to hide his own little giggle. Steve was stupid- always making dumb jokes that weren’t funny, ugh, he was just like Dad.
Well. Peter supposed he sort of was his other dad, by this point. But still. Annoying.
He watched as dad took Steve’s hand and tugged them out of the door, both of them smiling like idiots up at one another. Peter waved at them as they went out of the door, agreeing to whatever Dad was yelling to him as they left.
When the door shut, Peter sighed in relief. At least they’d managed to get out of the door, this time. Last night out they’d had, Peter may have accidentally set the living room on fire just as they’d been leaving. Totally bad timing, he hadn’t even been planning it, it just sort of…happened.
It wasn’t going to be like that any more. Peter was ten- he was pretty much an adult now anyway. He could look after himself just fine.
Jumping off the counter, he made his way to the fridge and pulled out all the vegetables until he reached Steve’s secret supply of chocolate. For some reason, he thought no one knew it existed, when in reality Peter and Dad stole regularly from the pile. One of those times being right now.
Peter grabbed a bar of chocolate and ripped off the packaging, stuffing half of it into his mouth at once as he made his way into the living room. He could just watch TV until Uncle Rhodey got there, and then he might be able to persuade him to buy them some takeout from the Indian restaurant downtown.
Yeah. It was going to be a good night.
Flopping into the cushions, he spread his arms out across the back of the sofa, feeling- Steve’s jacket?
Turning around, his brow creased. Yeah, that was definitely Steve’s brown jacket, strung over the side of the couch. God, could either of them remember anything that wasn’t directly in front of their noses?
Peter huffed, grabbing it. Steve would undoubtedly want it, because- yep, that was his wallet in the pocket. Steve never went anywhere without his wallet.
Sighing, Peter felt around in the pockets a little more. Usually Steve’s phone was in there, too, and so he was probably gonna have to call dad and tell him Steve had left his-
His hands closed around something small, like a little soft cube. Rounded at the edges, made of a nice smooth material. Like velvet.
So I went on flightrising on mobile which I rarely do. I dont ever look at my dragons really just check notifications etc. well I actually looked at some of my dragons and.. oh my god. Apparently my computer monitor has the reds turned way up or something everything looks so off. Worst part was I drew a dragon for someone with red on it in the draw a dragon above you thread and the shading on the red just looks so awful when it looks just fine on my computer. I feel so freaking bad… Now I have to go adjust my monitor and re look at all of my red/purple dragons just to see how badly I’ve fucked up this whole time. FML. I’m sorry person I drew the pic for… I’ll try to fix it. ;n;
When @talking2thesky asks you to write her something, you write her something. ;) Here you go, sweetie… I had way too much fun with this.
“Mr. Tao, I am assigning you to look into our Number’s bank accounts, but please, do try and refrain from draining them.”
“Aww Finchy, I’m hurt, you really think I’m gonna steal again? You and John have changed me, made me a better man.”
“And that’s exactly why you have the best woman in the force watching over you to keep you reformed, Mr. Tao. You can ask Detective Carterhere for any assistance you might need.”
“… Right. Uh, thanks, um, Detective.”
“Just doing my job, Leon. And thanks, Harold. You flatter me.”
“Merely stating the truth, Detective. Now let’s see, what else… ah, Ms. Morgan, here, I’ve procured an exclusive invite for the gala our Number is attending this evening.“
“VIP. You are a powerful man, Harold. I’d hate to cross a man like you.”
“Like you’ll ever get past his highly-trained attack dog if you do.”
“Hmmm? Bear likes me, Samantha.”
“Ah, but I’m not talking about Bear, Zoe.”
“Ladies, please. Now, Ms. Shaw, while our Number is busy at tonight’s event, I need you to look at the files he’s been keeping locked up in his home office, see what kind of secrets he’s been hiding from his own family.”
“I love how you’re just casually telling me to break into a house with two NYPD Detectives here within earshot.”
“Yes, well, I can ask Detective Fusco here to accompany you—”
“Oh hell to the no, I ain’t dealing with her brand of crazy again—”
“Aw c’mon, I could use a human shield, Fusco—”
“Up your ass, Shaw—”
“Detective, kindly watch your language, I will not tolerate this brand of disrespect towards a woman.”
“This brand of—I’m the one surrounded by crazy women here!”
“Careful, Fusco, your partner is a crazy woman. With a gun.”
“Heh. My kind of woman, Carter.”
“Love you too, Shaw.”
“Ooh, tread carefully now, Joss, Samantha is getting jealous.”
“Like I said—!”
“Oh up yours, Lionel—”
“If you are all through bickering, I was going to say, Detective Fusco here can perhaps provide a search warrant for our Number’s company, given that it’s already under investigation for a different case. Will that suffice?”
“Aw look, now you’ve all gotten Mom worked up. It’s okay, Harry. Why don’t you let Daddy kiss it all better?”
Silence reigns inside the safe house. Heads swivel in unison as everyone turns to John.
Harold flushes to the roots of his hair. “Well if you would all just stop acting like such belligerent children—”
“I’m not really sure the kids are ready to see this, Finch.”
Harold blinks. John is looking at him with what can only be described as bedroom eyes.
“Ohhhh yes. Can I watch?”
“Oh wouldn’t you know, Zoe.”
“I can activate the cameras—”
“You will do no such thing, Mr. Tao.”
“Why don’t we all give Mommy and Daddy some privacy? John, be gentle.”
“I’m not entirely sure gentle is what Harry’s aiming for, Joss.”
“I am entirely too sober for this conversation.”
“Really Fusco, it’s not like we didn’t see this coming since Root here got too obsessed with Harold—”
“Oh, well then, you’re welcome—and you don’t have to worry, I still love you best, Sameen—”
“Kids, if you all just give us a moment, I am going to kiss Mommy now. Very, very thoroughly.”
“Oh. Oh wow.”
“You really should’ve gotten that on camera, Leon.”
“I know, people pay to see this kind of stuff, I could’ve been rich—uh, legally, Detective—”
“Oh yeah, hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen a lot.”
“I’m gonna need to wash my eyes with bleach now.”
“Aw look, Harry’s so happy.”
“Finally you two have gotten your act together, I thought I was going to have to marry John again for something to happen.”
“I don’t think they’re listening, Zoe.”
“OUT. ALL OF YOU. NOW.”
“Unless you kids want to see Mommy and Daddy naked—”
“Finch, I think I just graduated to sweetheart now, don’t you think so, honey?”
“Oh god I need to be drunk like right now—”
“Is it too late to set up the cameras—”
Mobile phones suddenly buzz all around. Everyone in the room checks: they all have the same message.
Happy Birthday, awesomeasusual! This is not as good as you deserve, but at least it’s on time (barely!)
He fucking hated to read. Hated it. Loathed it. Abhorred it. Reviled it.
Okay, so maybe that last bit was too strong. Maybe the problem was really that he was always forced to read utter bullshit for his classes rather than anything he might ever actually choose to read for himself.
Whatever the case, Soul was taking a British Literature class to fulfill the crappy Gen Ed requirement, which meant he was trying to read. At first, he’d tried to read on the couch, feet sprawled across the table in front of him, but the television was a distraction. He’d next tried to read in his room, but his laptop, his MP3 player, hell even his ten year old gameboy had all beckoned enticingly. So now, here he was, out of his overpriced apartment across from campus, parentally funded of course, and sprawled out on the lush and well kept grass of the campus green, hoping a complete lack of access to electronics would somehow make the exploits of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy a little less mind numbingly dull.
He sighed, his gaze drifting over to the group frolicking around on the green with a football several yards away. He had never much cared for football–basketball was more his sport–but it was still more interesting than the lame book in his lap. Soul thought he recognized the blonde girl in pigtails as the cute overachiever who always sat in the front row of the same accursed lit class he was trying to read for, but she wasn’t quite close enough to tell. The guy with blue hair, however, he definitely recognized as his loud, excitable across the hall neighbor, and nearly groaned. Could he never escape that guy’s noise?
If Blake Starkey’s presence in his life was that inevitable, maybe he should take him up on one of his offers to come over and watch a game sometime–if the guy was going to be around anyway, going to invade his place at odd hours screaming his divinity to all and sundry (which was just him, he lived alone,) then Soul may as well get some free beer out of it, dammit.
That was neither here nor there, however, since he was supposed to be reading about Lizzie being forced to dance with the hated Mr. Darcy. Maybe Soul should have just stuck with the Cliff Notes like he usually would have, but the cute blonde’s enthusiasm yesterday in class as she explained to her dark haired friend that even when you didn’t like a great book, reading it would become a part of your very soul had stuck with him. Clearly, he’d been snookered by gorgeous green eyes and a bright smile, because the only thing this book was doing for his soul was putting it to sleep.
Deciding that the football game was just too damned distracting, Soul let out a sigh and got up from the grass, turning to walk away and back to the darkened confines of his apartment, or perhaps a coffee shop, when he heard a loud cry of “look out!” – felt a sharp impact to the base of his skull—and then felt nothing at all as his vision darkened, his knees buckled, and he crumpled back down to the grass below. At least, he thought fleetingly, it was soft.
So I play this mobile game called Dragonvale and oh my god I'm looking at the wiki and like, the dark element dragons seem right up your alley, particularly their Ooze Dragon which strikes me as the Official Dragon of Bogleech. Runners up are the Cave Dragon (Adorable Googly-Eyed Arthropod dragon) and the Acid Dragon (Precious Xenomorph homage complete with Kid Friendly Alien-based Backstory)
Aw that is adorable
So are all the ultra-corny Lovecraft jokes in its description
“This dragon defies description. The ancient manuscript “The Done Witch” tells of several renowned scribes nearly going mad trying to find
just the right words to describe this rare and ancient creature. Their
vague and contradictory descriptions seemed unbelievable, until one of
these dragons dragged itself from the marshes at the mouth of the
Aichpey river to lay dreaming in the road before the Mouth Inn. Now we
know why they had such a hard time. “
Marcy felt really excited that she and Noel had finally travelled to London for the summer. It was going to be only for a few days, but still she felt glad she saw her father and brother after so many years. Her brother had grown up so much. Her step mother was just the same as the last time she saw her. Cold and friendly, whenever she wanted. She behaved very nicely to Noel and even from thinking about it, she went crazy. Maybe it was a jealousy part…towarded her dad and deep down she wanted to have a good relationship with her.
She spent lots of hours in the bathroom, getting ready and twirled in front of the mirror, checking her dress one more time. She walked out of the house and sat on one of the benches in the garden. She felt very awed with their new house, which wasn’t exactly new…but they didn’t live there, seven years ago, when she was here, too. She checked the tickets in her bag and blinked, feeling a wave of light in her face. She raised her head and saw someone on a tree and widened her eyes. “Brian…what are you doing there?”, she almost shouted. “Mom didn’t let me show you before and you wouldn’t have imagined”, he shouted so that Marcy could hear him. “C’mon, c’mon the ladder is over there”, he pointed and Marcy bit her lips. She held her dress and started climbing, trying not to fall down. “When you’ll have to go down, I’ll give you the rope”, Brian chuckled and Marcy rolled her eyes, before stepping in the tree house. “Oh my God”, she widened her eyes, as she went in. It was full of small lamps, a blanket and a pack of books and magazines. “Where’s Noel?”, he asked and Marcy shook her head, crawling inside in awe. “He’s getting ready, I think”, she pouted and Brian pulled the magazines in his arms. “Tell him to come up, too. Now.” he insisted with a huge smile. Marcy felt kind of glad that he looked like more like her dad. She pulled the mobile from her bag and texted Noel to come over to the garden. Brian stood in front of the small window and turned on the torch, ready to show Noel, where they were.