#komodo brings me so much joy

[dragonfruitghosts]

so because I wanna post more about my selfship stuff, I wanted to show off my current favorite of the bunch (that isn’t kin related)

So this is Komodo, he’s my self insert for smg4 who’s shipped with Smg3 and Tari (Their relationship is alterous)

How did this happen? No clue I revisited the channel, saw the updated redesign for three and my brain went “pretty kissable ngl” and now we’re here.

I got asked on another site how Komodo relates to Smg4 and that was the most psychic damage I ever took, it came to me in a vision it’s just so I can be self-indulgent and gay I can’t have a crisis over this /silly

so yeah that’s kinda all I got, I’ll show the rest of my gay creatures at some point soon but idk I’ll see what my brain does

[queermtl]

QUEER MTL THINGS TO DO: August 2023

August doesn’t mean the end of the summer in Montréal. Here, the streets are full of queer joy as Pride (or Fierté as we call it here) takes over the city! This month, Montréal is stuffed to the brim with events, parties and unique experiences painted in all the colours of the LGBTQ+ rainbow. From drag to community, circuit to underground, here’s some of our picks for the best LGBTQ+ things to do in the city. For further announcements, follow QueerMTL on Instagram, Twitter, Facebook and Tumblr! Got an event coming up? DM it our way!

EVENT OF THE MONTH:

🏳️‍🌈 This month, there’s so much to do we couldn’t narrow it down to just one! Montréal’s biggest annual celebration Fierté Montréal / Montréal Pride returns August 3 to 13, 2023, with a packed schedule of events, exhibitions and parties that’s sure to be one for the record books. We’ve pulled out some of our top tips throughout the guide below, but the full schedule can be found on Fierté’s website here. Running later in the month, the volunteer-driven Pervers/cité brings the Underside of Pride into the light with community-driven activities ranging from back alley parties to workshops focusing on BIPOC, trans, non-gender conforming and queer experiences. Keep tabs on their social media platforms for their evolving schedule.

EVENTS

✊The Archives gaies du Québec hosts The Aesthetic Activism of ACT UP Montréal: a history in photos and posters from June 13-August 13, 2023, spotlighting an important piece of both HIV/AIDS and Montréal’s activist history. The co-curators will be in attendance on Community Day, Saturday, August 12, 2023 to discuss the items on display in both French and English.

✨ Bijuriya and Emmötional Damage host Slaysians on Wednesday, August 2, 2023 at Cabaret Mado, featuring performances from Lia Jasmine, Joy Rider, Suri Racha, CC Channel, Komodo, Manny, Kajol and Rico Love.

✍️ HommeHomo brings Drink & Draw back to Bar Le Cocktail on Wednesday, August 2, Wednesday, August 16, and Wednesday, August 30, 2023, featuring live models and drink specials. 

✨ The official Opening Ceremony of Pride Montréal held at Jardins Gamelin on Thursday, August 3, 2023 features Cercle Indigiqueer, Kaniehke’haka elder Tealey Ka’senni:saks Normandin, Nina Segalowitz & Sierra Segalowitz-Clabaux, Barbara Kaneratonni Diabo & Marshall Kahente Diabo, Moe Clark & Weather Beings and a DJ set from LaFHomme.

🎥 Drag king extraordinaire Charli Deville presents A Night at the Movies: Fantasy Edition at the Wiggle Room on Thursday, August 3, 2023 with Lulu les Belles Mirettes, Enshantay, Charli Deville, Gigi Marx and Just Horny. 

🍑 Blending burlesque, comedy, gogo and pole dancing, Peach Club kicks off Pride at Café Cléopatra on Thursday, August 3, 2023 with appearances from Tranna Wintour, Zach Poitras, Lucy Gervais and Rachelle Elie.

📚 The Violet Hour presents In translation, a special edition of their monthly queer literary series at Stock Bar on Thursday, August 3, 2023 featuring readings in English and French from books available in both languages, featuring Jonathan Bécotte, Gabrielle Boulianne-Tremblay, D.M. Bradford, Nicholas Dawson, Eli Tareq El Bechelany-Lynch and more.

😆 Hosted by Chiquita Mére and Sami Landri, ME JOKE-TU? brings a batch of queer comedians to the stage of Le National for a night of fun and laughs on Thursday, August 3, 2023. 

🇮🇹 The Violet Hour co-presents the exhibition Unveiling the Queer Italian-Canadian Experience, a collaboration between photographer Vincenzo Pietropaolo and poet Liana Cusmano at Casa d’Italia from August 3 to 20, 2023. 

🎥 The Image+Nation LGBTQ2SQUEER Film Festival presents a special program of shorts entitled 11 Revendications=11 Court-Métrages for Pride online from August 3 to 13, 2023. 

🏳️‍⚧️ The Trans+Archive presents Our existence in South America through the decades online throughout Pride, August 3 to 13, 2023. 

🏳️‍⚧️ The TransFormative Day of Justice brings a line-up of panels and workshops to the Centre communautaire LGBTQ+ de Montréal on Friday, August 4, 2023, creating space for trans/feminist discourses and reflections. Find further information here.

🏳️‍⚧️ The Them Fatale cabaret shines a spotlight on gender non-conforming trans and non-binary cabaret artists including Gay Jesus, Jake DuPree and Nox Falls under the guidance of Rosie Bourgeoisie on Friday, August 4, 2023 at Le National.

🐶 Montréal’s puppy community comes together for the Pup Montréal 2023 Contest, taking place from August 4 to 7, 2023 at Bar Le Stud, aiming to crown the genderless title of Pup Montréal 2023. 

🎤 XOXO presents a roster of some of Montréal’s top up and coming talent including Chivengi, Kinkead, hadaxxah, SCARY and G.Mako takes the stage at Jardins Gamelin on Friday, August 4, 2023.

🏳️‍🌈 Support 2sLGBTQ+ artists and artisans at PRIDE Market hosted by MFF and L’Euguélionne at L’Euguélionne bookstore on Saturday, August 5, 2023. 

✊ Feeling alternapride? Check out Slag Pride at Bar Le Ritz PDB on Saturday, August 5, 2023. 

🏳️‍⚧️ The Trans March is one of August’s most important events, starting from Dorchester Square on Saturday, August 5, 2023 at 2:30 PM. March in solidarity with under this year’s theme Because Our Joy is Priceless and don’t miss the Trans Community Party gathering in Jardins Gamelin which follows.

🏳️‍🌈 To be a Lesbian and …: Inclusive Perspectives on Lesbianism at the Hyatt Place Montréal offers an open and respectful place to discuss lesbian experiences and diversity on Saturday, August 5, 2023. 

🏳️‍🌈 Stella hosts The Criminalization of Sex Work and the Daily Life of 2SLGBTQIA+ Sex Workers at the Hyatt Place Montréal aims for exchange and solidarity between community and sex workers on Saturday, August 5, 2023. Running concurrently, the Photo/Voice Project: Sex Work presented by RÉZO and Julie Deslandes Leduc compiles local sex work experiences. 

🏳️‍🌈 Labour Pride: Past, Present and Future. What Our Unions Have Done For Us explores labour unions’ role in working for recognition and advancement of LGBTQ+ people’s rights. At Hyatt Place Montréal on Saturday, August 5, 2023. 

👠 Montréal’s ballroom community comes together for A Family Affair Kiki Ball at Le Club Soda on Saturday, August 5, 2023, inspired by family representations in movies and television shows. 

🎤 If you’ve ever asked what could possibly make karaoke even better, the popular Bareoke: Strip Karaoke at Café Cléopatra on Saturday, August 5 and Saturday, August 19, 2023 is your answer!

👑 Misty Waterfalls pulls double duty on Sunday, August 6, 2023 with Le Brunch aux Folles at 13h00 and Le Souper aux Folles at 17:00, both featuring Petula Claque and Lana Dalida at Bar Social Verdun.

😆 A Very Pretentious Comedy Show #7 features Tranna Wintour, Clara Olshansky, Estelle Davis, Walter Lyng and others at Café La ligne verte on Sunday, August 6, 2023. 

📚 Literary Pride presents War of 2SLGBTQ+ Words at Théâtre La Comédie de Montréal on Monday, August 7, 2023 in which four panelists defend a literary work written by a 2SLGBTQIA author in front of a live audience, with one work eliminated every 20 minutes until only one book remains. The following evening, Glitter-ati! hosted by Barbada will present four emerging authors and their work on-stage. On Wednesday, August 9, 2023 they’ll host Diversity Spelled Out, Transpoetry / An Evening of Poetry on Thursday, August 10, 2023, and an Outdoor Book Fair on Friday, August 11, 2023.  Before each event, the Safer Literary Space creates room for authors and writers who cannot or do not want to be public about their sexual orientation or gender identity. 

😆 Very Pretentious Comedy presents a Queer Comedy Night at The Diving Bell Social Club on Monday, August 7, 2023 featuring Clara Olshansky, Eve Parker Finley and more!

💜 The Transmasc Choir of Montréal hosts the Chosen Family Conference at Hyatt Place Montréal on Tuesday, August 8, 2023 including live Q&A and resources. 

🎶 Discover a world of new talents at ImmiX, presented by ICI Musique on Wednesday, August 9, 2023 at Esplanade du Parc olympique featuring Blxck Cxsper, Cassa, Coco Belleveau, Edith Butler, Jade Above, Joe Bocan, Kanen, Klô Pelgag, Lumière, Naomi, River and Samuele. 

✍️ Join Queer Bodies for Life Drawing Community  featuring live models at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Wednesday, August 9 and Friday, August 11, 2023. 

🎶 The 14-piece chamber pop ensemble the Queer Songbook Orchestra brings their heartbreakingly gorgeous selves to the Esplanade du Parc olympique featuring Safia Nolin and Martha Wainwright on Wednesday, August 9, 2023.

🕹 Gaymers gather at Brouillon café-buvette for Remous vol. 2: Pride x Pixel for a night of gaming, music and dancing on Wednesday, August 9, 2023. 

🧺 The Québec Lesbian Network hosts the 3rd edition of the Lesbian BBQ on the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Thursday, August 10, 2023, featuring the DJs and artists of FeminiX (including JU!CE, Narcisse, Barbara Butch and BLK PRL) and the KING POUR A DAY: Drag King Performing Art Workshops. 

🐶 Hosted by Pet Play Québec, Meet the Kink Collective promotes visibility and education of the fetish world on Thursday, August 10 to 11, 2023 at the Esplanade du Parc olympique. 

✨ Celebrating Our Spirits marks a day of presentations around Two-Spirit, Indigenous LGBTQ+ and Indigiqueer identities, featuring Tealey Ka’senni:saks Normandin, Scott Wabano, Annie Pullen Sansfaçon, Jo-Marie Einish and John Sylliboy at Hyatt Place Montréal on Friday, August 11, 2023. 

🏳️‍🌈 Embrace Community Days on Friday, August 11 and Saturday, August 12, 2023 in Montréal’s Village neighbourhood, when organizations and businesses active in the LGBTQ+ community take to the streets with booths and activities down Sainte Catherine Street. 

🎶 DistinXion brings together a varied group of artists sure to leave an indelible impression including Idman, Vivek Shraya, Time Simone, Nakhane and Mýa at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Friday, August 11, 2023. 

🎶 Celebrate BIPOC 2SLGBTQIA+ performers at Xcellence, featuring DJs, musicians and unmissable performers including TEYKIRSI, Honeydrip, pony, A$H BANKS and San Farafina at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Friday, August 11, 2023. 

🎶 Fugues magazine presents SuXession at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Saturday, August 12, 2023 with a full lineup of rising stars of Montréal’s queer underground scene including Chris Cool, Artin Avaznia, Miss Chris Marlot, Mossy Mugler, Ms. Boogie, Myst Milano, sam blake, Sisi Superstar and Syana. 

👠 Mama Cuarta Mulan curates QUILT-ED, a Kiki Ball—A celebration of ACCM’s 35th anniversary inspired by the iconic AIDS quilt at Cabaret Lion d’Or on Saturday, August 12, 2023. 

🎤 Miss Meow Productions presents the Lana Del Rey Burlesque featuring Roxy Torpedo, Avecti Cutthroat, Honey Lustre, Little Galaxia, Rosie Bourgeoisie and Zyra Lee Vanity at Café Cléopatra on Saturday, August 12, 2023. 

🥞 Native Montréal is hosting a Native Montréal Pride Brunch for all Indigenous 2SLGBTQIA+ community members before the Pride Parade on Sunday, August 13, 2023. 

🏳️‍🌈 The Pride Parade winds down Boulevard René-Lévesque on Sunday, August 13, 2023. You won’t want to miss the moment of silence in acknowledgment at 2:30 PM of those lost to AIDS, lesbophobia, homophobia, biphobia and transphobia, as well as a time to commemorate the lives of missing or murdered Indigenous women, girls, children and Two-Spirit or LGBTQIA+ people, during which you can hear a pin drop in downtown Montréal. 

🎥 REEL GAY hosts a screening of Hedwig and the Angry Inch with host Mary Fagdalene at The Diving Bell Social Club on Tuesday, August 15, 2023.

👠 Twice a month on every second Tuesday, Bring It! hosts an OTA night of ballroom and vogue with commentator and DJ. Follow their Instagram for dates and details.

🤔 Every Wednesday, Bar Champs hosts Wednesday Trivia Night at Champs with Quiz Master Brian. 

🎾 Throughout the month, Tennis Lambda hosts LIGUE DE DIMANCHE outdoor tennis on the courts at Parc Louis-Riel. Check Eventbrite for full dates and details. 

🚲 Montréal Queer Bike Polo meets on Thursdays! Find details and directions on their Instagram. 

🏐 Les Ratons-Chasseurs (Montréal’s LGBTA dodgeball group) holds regular events. Keep an eye on their Facebook for upcoming opportunities to join in and play. 

🤠 The long-running Club Bolo offers open country music dance classes every Friday evening at the Association sportive et communautaire du Centre-Sud. Find more details at their website. 

🕹Montréal Gaymers hosts regular gatherings including board game nights and gaming gatherings. Check their Facebook for what’s next!

🎤 Most Tuesdays, check out Stand Up St. Henri Open Mic at Impro Montréal, focusing on women, non-binary, queer and allied comedians.

🏃🏾Join the Out-Run run and workout club for people relating to the queer / sapphic experience. Details on their Instagram!

💃 Tango/Salsa Queer’s continue, with Salsa Queer on Saturdays from 13:30-14:30 and Tango (beginners/intermediate) on Saturdays at 12:00-13:30. Contact tango.queer@hotmail.com or call +1 (438) 930-8529 for prices and signup information.

🐦 Bird lovers should keep their eye on Queer Birders' regularly scheduled birdwatching events and excursions. Join the Facebook group and get those binoculars at the ready. 

PARTIES 🥳 Queer-pop party extraordinaire Glitterbomb takes to Jardins Gamelin on Thursday, August 3, 2023 for their special Pride edition, featuring DJ sets from Awwful and DJ Jeffany and live performances from Big Sissy, Maryze & Sam Blake, Aizysse Baga, Jaqq Strapp and others!

🥳 Ellelui presents HEATED, a not-to-be-missed evening for lesbian, queer and trans partiers at Le Club Soda on Friday, August 4, 2023, featuring performances from Pu$$yrap, Zepkin$, Ms. Baby, A$h Banks and Litney Worldwide. 

🥳 The DJs behind Balls Deep Disco and West End Gays join forces at Pleasure Dome at the Société des arts technologiques’ La Satosphère on Friday, August 4, 2023 with a night of classic queer anthems.

🥳 Jhalak Montréal and the South Asian Pride Collective present CHUTNEY: A South Asian Cabaret & Pride Party on Saturday, August 5, 2023 at Cabaret Lion d’Or. Post-showcase, the night transforms into a dance party with food and henna artists! 

🥳 Promising the ultimate 360 club kid experience, Unikorn’s Pride edition on Saturday, August 5, 2023 at the SAT Satosphere brings DJs Sonikku and That Kid together for a night of projections, rave and guaranteed euphoria. 

🥳 Blush celebrates their fourth anniversary at Jardins Gamelin on Sunday, August 6, 2023 with a night of dance and union for queer women and gender-nonconforming people featuring DJs Grapes, G L O W S I, La Niña Kiwi and Pituca Putica.

🥳 Barbada will get the crowds dancing with a DJ set at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Wednesday, August 9, 2023. 

🥳 LuvHaus presents LuvHaus Édition Fierté on Wednesday, August 9, 2023 at Blockhaus in Hochelaga.

🥳 Spend the day partying by the poolside at La Piscine on Saturday, August 12, 2023 at Club LaCité.

🥳 Studio ZX shows off some of Montréal’s most creative nightclub figures with Club Kids on Wednesday, August 9 and again on Sunday, August 13, 2023 at the Esplanade du Parc olympique.

🥳 Be plastic and fantastic, pink and proud at The Pink Airline with DJ Kev J on Thursday, August 10, 2023 at Newspeak. First 50 costumes get a free drink!

🥳 The party continues at After-Xcellence in SAT’s Dôme with dance party sets from DJ Karaba, Pierre Kwenders and Kid Crayola on Friday, August 11, 2023. 

🥳 MPU: Loud & Proud turns up the queer at Le Belmont on Friday, August 11, 2023, featuring appearances from Barbada, Kimmy Couture, Lady Boom Boom, Denim and DJ Pøptrt alongside DJs Fantastik and Jeffany.

🥳 The circuit takes over Bain Mathieu on Friday, August 11, 2023 when Locker Room kicks off featuring DJs Danny Verde, Leo Blanco and adult film performer Drew Dixon.

🥳 Majlisna presents Mubaadarat, a gathering of LGBTQ+ people from Arabic-speaking regions. Bring outfits and make-up and meet in the QTBIPOC Safer Space at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Saturday, August 12, 2023. 

🥳 Highlighting Montréal’s lesbian / sapphic and BIPOC talent communities, Sweet Like Honey hosts its Edition Fierté at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Saturday, August 12, 2023 with special appearances from Marlyne, MS. BABY and DJ Lax.

🥳 Queen&Queer presents their dance party for queer women at SAT’s La Satosphère on Saturday, August 12, 2023 with DJs Ticky Ty, DJ Sam and DJ AQ. 

🥳 Discoõ returns on Saturday, August 12, 2023 at the SAT featuring DJ sets from Argentina’s Ms Nina, Litney, Luisa, Empress, Jerico and Jashim.  

🥳 Distrct events presents Inferno featuring Henrique Viana, Sagi Kariv, Alain Jackinsky, Adriana the Bombshell, Paskal Daze and Cindel at Telus on Saturday, August 12, 2023 from 10:00 pm to 6:00 am!

🥳 Following the parade, the Esplanade du Parc olympique morphs into the world’s biggest dance floor for the closing T-Dance, featuring DJ K.Nox, DJ TDon and Kampire on Sunday, August 13, 2023. Up-and-coming Montréaler RÊVE will cap the festivities with a closing performance.

🥳 THIRSTY brings its closing party to Bain Mathieu on Sunday, August 13, 2023, with DJs Andrei Stan, Diskommander, K.Nox and D’Jimi.

🥳 The Afropride AfterParty fills Club Sky with afrobeats and Caribbean music from DJ Buhbuhlo, Maddy Phillips, DJ Jayson, DJ Blaster and DJ Kid on Sunday, August 13, 2023. 

DRAG

👑 Rainbow presents Le Bingo Show, dedicated to everyone’s favourite numbers and luck game, at Cabaret Mado on Thursday, August 3, 2023.

👑 The Pride Party with Barbara and friends takes over Le National on Saturday, August 5, 2023, including musical, drag and dance performances. Attendees are requested to wear their most colourful costumes for a surprise group activity to close the night. 

👑 Michel Dorion hosts the night of comedy Les succès oubliés at Bar Le Cocktail on Sunday, August 6, 2023, featuring Jean-Marc Reid, Chibouki and Érica. 

👑 Rawxy & cie brings local favourites Kiara, Kelly Torielli and Jessie Précieuse to the stage of Cabaret Mado on Monday, August 7, 2023. 

👑 A popular annual favourite, The High Heels Obstacle Race (on Sainte Catherine Street East, between Alexandre DeSève and de Champlain streets) sees Village businesses and community organizations competing in an obstacle course in the highest of heels on Monday, August 7, 2023. 

👑 A match made in queer heaven, Drag’Opéra brings together three opera singers and three drag artists presenting new renditions of opera and musical theatre at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Wednesday, August 9, 2023. 

👑 Drag goes well with dinner, and the Drag’N’Burger Show featuring Milady Nicole, Eva Moist, Mister Boogie and Lady Boom Boom at Notre-Bœuf-de-Grâce on Wednesday, August 9, 2023 is a sure match in heaven.

👑 Master of diva impersonation Jimmy Moore brings a special pride edition of Jimmy Moore personnifie Madonna: The Blond Ambition Tour to Cabaret Mado on Wednesday, August 9, 2023 and again on Saturday, August 19, 2023. 

👑 One of the biggest nights of the Pride calendar, Drag Superstars at Esplanade du Parc olympique on Thursday, August 10, 2023 includes performances from Rita Baga, Alexis Mateo, Aquaria, Drag Couenne, Envy Peru, Gisèle Lullaby, Heaven Genderfck, Heidi N Closet, Icesis Couture, Jimbo, Johnny Jones, Kerri Colby, Lady Boom Boom, Landon Cider, Marcia Marcia Marcia, Océane Aqua-Black, Vanessa van Cartier, Vanity Milan, Will Charmer and Yvie Oddly.

👑 Cabaret Mado hosts the Cabaret Queer on Thursday, August 10, 2023, featuring performances from Tracy Trash,Frigid, Scott Fordham, Miami Minx, Fabien L’amour, Bobépine and others. 

👑 Like breakfast? Into drag? You’ll love the Pride Anthem Drag Brunch with Lady Boom Boom, Kiara and Kimmy Couture on Saturday, August 12, 2023 at Resto du Village. And there’s three seatings to meet demand!

👑 Celebrate local drag with MajestiX at the Esplanade du Parc olympique on Saturday, August 12, 2023 hosted by Rock Bière and RV Metal and featuring Bambi Dextrous, BiG SiSSY, Bijuriya, Bobépine, Clay Thorris, Elle Dare, Fabien L’Amour, Foxy Lexxi Brown, HercuSleaze & The Mythos Ensemble, Jessie Précieuse, Johnny Jones, Kitty Glitter, Little Star & Mike Oxlong, Manny, Marla Deer, Miss Dupré Latour, Moxxi Hollow, Peggy Sue, Pétula Claque, Rainbow, Tracy Trash and Walter Ego. 

👑 Jimmy Moore pays on-point tribute to Taylor Swift with two Gay Pride editions of his Jimmy Moore personnifie Taylor Swift on Saturday, August 12, 2023 and Sunday, August 13, 2023 at Cabaret Mado. 

👑 Montréal’s premiere drag king night ManSpread returns for its Pride Edition on Saturday, August 19 at Bar le Cocktail on Saturday, August 19, 2023, featuring Slick Hardwood, Yikes Macaroni, Zyra Lee Vanity, Mr./Mrs. Sauga and Charli Deville. 

👑 Our favourite evil divas come to life on Saturday, August 26, 2023 when Disney Villains takes over the stage at Bar Le Cocktail. 

👑 A night of drag and striptease, Les Folies Draglesques hosted by Miami Minx brings Cervena Fox, Gigi Georgette, Heaven Genderfck and others to Cabaret Mado on Thursday, August 17, 2023.

👑 Celebrate two of Montréal’s hardest working queens at the Barbada & Kitana Birthday Bash at Cabaret Mado on Thursday, August 24, 2023. Happy birthday, ladies!

👑 Jimmy Moore continues to work, work, work, work, work it with Jimmy Moore personnifie Rihanna at Cabaret Mado on Saturday, August 26, 2023.

👑 On Friday and Saturday nights, the legendary Mado Lamotte hosts Mado Reçoit at her namesake club, Cabaret Mado. Each week, she shares the stage with a hand-picked roster of queens.

👑 Every Tuesday, Canada’s Drag Race season 3 winner Gisèle Lullaby hosts Full Gisèle at Cabaret Mado. Tickets and schedule at Cabaret Mado’s website.

👑 Bar Le Cocktail’s regular weekly events include Butterfly de nuit with Miss Butterfly every Thursday, Vendredi Fou with Michel Dorion on Fridays, Drôles de Drags with a rotating cast of queens on Saturdays and Dimanche Show with Michel Dorion on Sundays.

👑 Every Monday at the Diving Bell Social Club, Bambi Dextrous hosts Trivia Night! Be sure to  book your team table in advance.

👑 Every Thursday at Complexe Sky, check out the Jimmy Moore Drag Show at 10 PM, sure to feature eye-popping costume changes and dance moves that don’t quit. Free with club admission. 

👑 Sunday nights brings the amazingly hilarious Tracy Trash’s Le Tracy Show to Cabaret Mado.

[koala-otter]

Hi! This is the main blog for hurricanezukka and thank you for the fic rec and making me aware of your amazing writing last night! I saw you were taking prompts and was wondering if you could do a cute short fic about my headcanon that Zuko does The Dance™ when he eats food he likes and Sokka seeing it for the first time and having a gay meltdown bc it's too cute for him to handle? Either way thank you for cheering up my night! 🥰

Oh my gosh hi again!! Thank you so much! I’m so happy you liked it! And I hope you’re feeling better :)

I love this headcanon a lot a lot, and I really wanted to do it justice. I hope it’s everything you imagined!

Zuko does The Dance™ when he eats 1.2k words

It’s going to be a long night, Sokka realizes on his way to the Fire Lord’s chamber, and Zuko likely hasn’t eaten, so he asks one of the attendants at the door to bring dinner for the two of them.

“Something easy,” Sokka explains as he strides into the chamber, “that Zuko will definitely like. Maybe komodo chicken?”

He doesn’t think about it again until later, after he’s been ushered through the antechamber into a salon where Zuko sits on the floor in front of a low table. A pile of scrolls lies in front of him, and he keeps looking at the topmost one as he fills another sheet of paper with his carefully practiced characters. Sokka sits across from him and covertly moves the inkstone and stick away from Zuko’s sleeve. 

Zuko looks up at him in alarm. 

“Wow, look at you, it seems like you’ve gotten a lot done already on your own,” Sokka says encouragingly. He grabs the stack of papers on the far side of the table and hefts them meaningfully, raising his eyebrows at Zuko. 

“There’d be more done if you got here earlier,” Zuko says pointedly, though they both know he isn’t actually angry. He avoids the view of Sokka’s contracting biceps he knows is meant to distract him.

“Hey, you asked me to take the meeting with the Hubei governor,” Sokka reminds him. He drops the stack on the floor next to him with a thud reminiscent of a camelephant foot hitting the ground. 

The left side of Zuko’s face quirks up in a grin. “And now that you know him so well, you can be the one to respond to his letter,” he says. He hands Sokka his own sheet of paper and one of the scrolls.

“You’re joking,” Sokka says. He unfurls the scroll. “He sent one, too?”

“Everyone’s sending congratulations, Sokka,” Zuko says, borderline impatiently. “There’ve been hawks coming every hour since your dad made the announcement.”

Sokka sighs. “I guess this is what I get for being engaged to the Fire Lord.” Sokka hears a huff and looks up to find Zuko with his one eyebrow raised, unimpressed. Sokka breaks into a toothy grin. “Not that it isn’t absolutely, completely worth it.”

Zuko lowers his face back down toward his paper in an attempt to hide the small smile on his face, and Sokka looks smug as he picks up his own brush and starts writing. 

Only a little while later, the double doors open, and a litter of servants enter the salon bearing several trays. Zuko stares, his mouth agape, as an attendant sets a soban table next to the two men, and the rest of the litter begin laying dishes on its surface. There is not only komodo chicken, but also squirrel-fried fish, sticky rice and komodo rhino sausage wrapped in lotus leaf, fresh green cucumber with garlic and red chilies, hippo-beef dumplings, and even Zuko’s favorite Earth Kingdom delicacy, fried dough filled with sweet red bean paste. One last servant presents them with a bowl of elaborately sliced mangoes, bananas, and cherries, and a pot of jasmine tea, before going to stand with his colleagues.  

“I hope these humble leftovers will be to your liking—” The senior attendant pauses; Sokka’s term of address is still a little ambiguous, especially in light of his recent engagement to the Fire Lord. Does one still consider him an ambassador, or is his status now that of a royal? “Sir,” the attendant finally settles on.

Zuko finally regains his ability to speak. “What is all of this?” he asks. He stares at the spread in a daze. 

“It’s for you,” Sokka says kindly before turning to address the attendants. “This is great! Thank you.”

The attendants bow and leave the room, closing the doors quietly behind them. Sokka resumes his writing. Zuko still stares at the food. 

“Why?” he finally asks. 

“I figured you needed to eat,” Sokka says simply. He gestures to the dishes with the back of his brush. “You should start.” He grins cheekily. “I’ve still got a lot of catching up to do on my letters.”

“You do,” Zuko agrees, and he considers waiting for Sokka to join him, or insisting he start eating first. But the fragrance of the rice calls a little louder, and Zuko picks up his chopsticks and eagerly analyzes the dishes before him for his first bite. 

For a while, all Sokka hears while he writes his replies is the stroke of his brush on paper and the sound of Zuko’s chopsticks occasionally tapping together. But then there is something else, something he’s never heard before and that he cannot place, like a rustling of fabric, but not quite as loud and more regular. and Sokka raises his head slowly out of curiosity. 

Zuko looks sleepy, as he normally does when he stays up this late, with half-lidded eyes and a looseness about his shoulders. But he is also smiling. Contentment softens the lines of his face as he chews his food and his chopsticks float above the dishes, preparing for his next selection. Each bite is rewarded with a brief squeezing of his eyes shut, and a little sway, before he resumes a curious motion Sokka doesn’t understand at first glance. Zuko bobs up and down to some silent beat, his head moving in one direction and then another, and his free hand idly moving in tandem with the rest of his body. 

Sokka realizes all at once that Zuko is dancing. 

His mouth drops open slightly and his chest seizes at the sight of his betrothed, one of the fiercest firebenders in the world and the most powerful man of his nation, dancing during his dinner. If he were a crying man, Sokka would be moved to tears, but he’s instead simply, painfully overwhelmed with the desire to sweep Zuko into his arms, or to tie him to the bed, or just cradle him and keep him from the rest of the world. The little movements of his body, the sweet joy of his gaze on the food, the sway of his hair are all too much for Sokka to think about literally anything else, and the scroll slips from his hand and falls to the ground, forgotten.

Zuko stops dancing at the sound and looks up at Sokka, blinking slowly. 

“Sokka?”

Sokka's mouth doesn’t work yet, and he simply gazes at Zuko, pure adoration shining from his eyes. 

Zuko misreads it. 

“What, is there something on my face?” he asks self-consciously. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, worry furrowing his brow. “It’s not my fault there’s so much sauce on squirrel-fried fish.”

Sokka finally shakes himself out of his reverie, and he smiles lovingly at Zuko. “You’re perfect,” he says earnestly, and he leans across the table to kiss Zuko soundly. He tastes like garlic and chilies and salt. “I really love you.”

Zuko looks a little dazed when Sokka pulls back, and a light blush colors his cheeks. But he looks pleased. “I love you, too,” he says, his voice a little hoarse, and he laughs, short and sweet. He points to the food, barely any less abundant than when he began. “Now will you please eat with me?”

“In a minute,” Sokka replies, picking up the scroll once more, “I just really want to finish this.”

Zuko nods and tucks back into one of the bundles of sticky rice, sighing and dropping his shoulders as he relaxes anew. 

Sokka smiles as he waits patiently for the dancing to start again.

[dashielldeveron]

Viper IX: Compos Mentis

Summary: You have one brain cell left, and by God, she’s going to have a good time tonight.

Warnings: swears, the law. Injury. Claustrophobia?

“Are you actually wearing that out?”

Clenching your jaw, you glanced at him in the mirror. Tom leaned against the doorframe while he pulled the knot in his tie, smoothing it down. “I am not speaking to you,” you said, fiddling to clasp your necklace.

With a flash of his eyebrows, Tom darted his eyes to the side. “You can’t wear red out in public. Especially if it’s a formal event. Just saying.”

“I don’t give a shit about your personal tastes.”

He bit back a comment, trudging closer to you. “When you’re with the mob, wearing red means you’re a ho. It’s mostly why everyone hates the girlfriend at the beginning of The Godfather. Do you want everyone to think you’re not a woman of honour? Put on something green, or something.”

You got the little lever underneath your fingernail, but it slipped out before you could connect it. “Should I slip on a maid outfit for you, master?”

Tom gripped the back of your chair, ducking his head in a grimace. “You can’t act like this when we get to the gala.”

“I don’t plan to,” you said, pulling the chain as far out in front of you as possible to get a look at what you’re dealing with, “but I won’t play the part perfectly. I’m not scared of you anymore.”

“You should be,” he said under his breath, and his hand came around your shoulders to slap away your own hands away from the necklace. “You’ve been a smart-mouthed snake to me. You’re on thin fucking ice.” He fastened it for you before sliding the clasp to the back of your neck.

***

After Harrison handed over your invitations to the suspiciously over-enthusiastic front-of-house staff, the three of you were ushered to what was functioning as a coat room before being loosed in the Natural History Museum.

You’d spent days upon days in the place for work, so you fidgeted while Tom and Haz greeted the positively sexy dinosaur skeletons in the foyer. Yes, yes, good, good. One of the best fossil collections in the world. But let’s go to the weird stuff, okay?

Not okay.

Though you took Tom’s arm as fucking instructed, he still had the gall to spit “Shut up, or I’ll kick your ass” at you when the first group of suits approached.

They didn’t like your snarky joke about carbon dating.

“I thought I told you to shut up,” Tom hissed in your ear, and you, simpering, playfully swatted him away, your eyes completely dead.

They worked their way through a couple of groups of people and exhibits—a good portion of these wealthy attendees had recently been freed from small gang rule; the Fratelli family had absorbed them about a month ago, and if Tom could persuade those near boundary lines, they might come over to your side.

You didn’t mind too much, because you knew more about everyone, generally, particularly if they were female-led (that kind of pissed you off, though, because hasn’t he unlearned his biases yet?). You had to remind him who some people were as they drew near, but you did it on impulse to obey (that kind of pissed you off, too).

What made you fume, though, was that Tom straight up didn’t introduce you to anyone. Harrison and himself, yes, along with establishing connections with other people already spoken to, but you? Not even the cover story that you were his lawyer for Osseous. Just…living up to their expectations, you supposed, that women were accessories.

When Tom had withdrawn his arm so that he could write something down for some lousy, old dudes who wouldn’t fucking leave, you took the opportunity to dig out your phone (your dress had pockets! The women you’d met had shared in your joy, showing off their own pockets if they had any).

You shot off a text to Adrien, letting him know you were there (he wanted you to see the lights at the front of the gem hall before they opened it up; he’d redone them while you were under house arrest)—and, you supposed, you could reply to the twenty-one texts Glory Pham had sent you, badgering you for your presence.

“Who are you texting?” Tom looked over your shoulder. “I thought I just saw a heart emoji.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, lowering your phone, “It’s noth—what is the fuck?”

Glory Pham primly snatched your phone out of your hands, pinching it between her thumb and index finger. “I’m confiscating this.”

“Oh,” you said, your shoulders heaving, “You startled me, Ms. Pham.”

Glory slipped your phone into a hidden, deep pocket in her Ao Dai. “Constant vigilance. You, too, Mr. Holland. And associate,” she said, narrowing her eyes at Harrison.

“Ms. Pham,” you said as they fumbled for their phones in their suit jackets, “I am a grown-ass woman. I can function at this fundraiser with my phone on my person.”

“As an ass-woman, you can’t if you want to catch every. Minute. Detail.” Glory glared up at you. “I want your undivided attention. If something goes wrong, I want you to notice. Pack away your little outside life and live in this moment. If you do well enough to ensure tonight goes smoothly, I may even associate with you in the future.”

You sighed as she ferreted away the other phones. It’d be nice if you could command Tom and Haz like that, but what do you, the consigliere, have that compares with a museum curator? “How will I find you if there’s something I can’t fix?”

“You’ll be able to. We open the gem hall in an hour. I want you there in fifty minutes.”

Your eyes glazed over as she strode away, and you swayed slightly. Oh, don’t have an episode now. That wouldn’t be ideal.

“Good evening, Mr. Holland,” came a voice from behind you, and Tom turned, guiding you with his hand on the small of your back. You let your vision blur for a moment before focusing on some guy you didn’t recognise. “I represent the D’Aleos. I have someone in the Hall of Amphibians and Reptiles wanting to discuss something with you.”

Tom quirked an eyebrow, a shine to his eyes that hadn’t been there for anyone he’d spoken to so far. “What about?”

“He wants to hire someone as a neutral mediator for a boundary squabble. One of your men—well, actually, the Viper.”

“Oh?” Tom’s hand slid from the small of your back to press into your waist. “I’m sure she’ll be interested to hear that. I’ll have to call her after the negotiation, if we can all be cordial. Lead the way.”

What in the do-huh? Bitch?

He led the three of you through the Egyptology section while you held Tom at the back to hiss at him.

“The fuck are you on? I’ll have to call her afterwards?” You clutched at his arm, curling your fingers in to make it hurt. “Who am I, then? Are you gonna introduce me as your whore?”

Tom bent his head towards you with an easy smile that wasn’t directed at you. “If you keep being so cheeky, they’ll think that, anyway.” He gave a little wave to a passer-by and lowered his voice. “You’re the one who wanted to wear red.”

This is dumb. I just want to hear John Mulaney.

The D’Aleo guy led you into the Hall of Amphibians and Reptiles and gestured towards a tank with a heavily labelled, taxidermy komodo dragon, and when you rounded it, Tom broke into a genuine grin.

“Jacob,” he said, shaking his hand, followed by Harrison. “Where have you been? How’d you get hooked with the D’Aleos?”

“Good to see you, too. They hired me to plan an operation, and I wasn’t doing anything besides coding for my regular client—normal work stuff. So, I agreed. What have you been up to?”

“Eh, this and that. Mostly the bomb threat,” he said, putting his hands in his pockets. “Sneaky little buggers, those. What’s this with the Viper?”

“Oh,” said Jacob, his eyes bulging momentarily, “So, I’ve planned their fucking thing, but there’s this old money family right on the boundary of where we’re crossing, and they’ve pulled some shit lately that won’t stand.” He ran his fingers through his heavily slicked back hair. “Me, I’m just the guy in the chair. I don’t deal with people. Your Viper, though—I know she can wrap them around her finger.” He jerked his head to the side. “The don wanted her, too. Once the idea got planted in his head, it wouldn’t leave. He doesn’t want to upset the old money. They have a bit of a legacy in the police force, and, well, you know what’s going on with them.”

“Coward,” said Harrison, lifting and doling out flutes of champagne from a passing server (you almost dropped yours due to the condensation, and Harrison had to grip your hands and the flute to keep it from falling—the conversation lulled while this happened, Tom quietly watching). “The don must really need the operation to go well.”

“Oh, man, he really fucking does,” said Jacob before tossing back some champagne. “He’s been through a lot of personal shit lately, with his wife and son, and shit, and he’s been—you know, work stuff.” He gave a dismissive wave. “And now he’s in super hot water because he got exposed this morning for rigging the last mayoral election. He’s a mess.”

Harrison frowned. “What, he got exposed?”

“He was practically etherised upon a table for something he didn’t deserve. Well,” said Jacob, “That’s his opinion.”

“What happened?”

Jacob shot a look at Tom and over to Haz (who were you?). “You mean you—you’re involved in it, too. I was relieved you even showed up tonight. I thought you’d be MIA.”

Tom clenched his hands into fists. “What happened?”

“I should’ve brought a copy, but who thinks to brings a newspaper to a fundraiser? It’s this morning’s Times. The Epiales article lays out all of us for our shit in local politics.”

Tom’s face went blank.

“Compares us to Italian mob control in the sixties and seventies and then to the Irish mob. Explains that there’s still mafia involvement in America in spite of the RICO Act. Then he goes back and puts us against mob rule in history. Focuses on the Roman Empire and the French Revolution.”

Harrison swallowed champagne thickly, sticking his tongue in his cheek. “Which French Revolution?”

“The one in 1789, dumbass,” said Jacob, and he winced. “Though he goes on to delineate the Hundred Days, the July Revolution, and the June Rebellion.”

“The fuck are those? Are they even real?”

“I looked them up after. They’re real.”

Tom finally spoke (his fingertips were just barely trembling around his champagne flute). “What exactly does it say about us?”

“It’s rough, Tom. The D’Aleos definitely have it worse, but.”

“Spit it.”

Jacob scrunched up his face. “He doesn’t mention the Hollands by name. You’re good there. But he does mention by name people you’re not even one degree of separation from, like Judge Le and that Bauman guy in Brooklyn, along with a bunch of guys you have on payroll with the police. They’re out, Tom, and if they talk, you are, too.”

Tom closed his eyes and slowly raised his finger to his mouth to bite his knuckle. “Anything else?”

“Your gentrification process for the heights for the last two years was laid out. Roman Empire shit, apparently.”

It took a bit for Tom to open his eyes. When he did, he drained his champagne flute and reached for yours, taking a large gulp from your still-full flute. He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna find Epiales and choke him with my own two hands.”

You took a moment to consider if you were into that.

“Someone’s—oh, my God,” said Tom, leaning on the komodo dragon tank (he really shouldn’t be doing that!), “I have to kill a traitor on the inside. Last time we had to do that, my dad was in charge.”

Harrison shook his head. “Do we let anyone else in rank know?”

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “Um, no. No. That’ll give them time to panic and maybe escape. Oh, my God.”

Did you know that the Komodo dragon (Varanus komodoensis) are the heaviest lizards on Earth, reaching over 300 pounds and up to ten feet in length? They live only on Indonesia’s Lesser Sunda Islands, preferring the tropical forests and the valleys in which they were hatched. They are capable of walking up to seven miles per day and running at speeds up to twelve miles per hour.

Haz pinched his lip. “C’mon, we’ve got newspaper people on the payroll. Someone’s bound to know at least where Epiales’s IP address is, right?”

“Not at the Times. God, I don’t even know who to go to,” said Tom, and he turned to you, his forehead glistening under the yellow lights. “Isn’t this where you chime in with something helpful?”

The Komodo dragon has venom glands laced with toxins that induce shock, lower blood pressure, prevent clotting, and cause bleeding. When the Komodo dragon sinks its serrated teeth and yanks with its strong neck muscles, it leaves massive, gaping wounds in its prey, and it’s close to what you’re about to do to Tom.

“How can I help,” you asked flatly, “I’m just a smart-mouthed snake. Why don’t you set that Viper lady on them? I bet she’d know what to do.”

“Yes, I bet she would,” said Tom through clenched teeth.

“I just don’t understand all this man stuff,” you said, smiling vaguely as Jacob noticed you for the first time, “I think I should let you big boys discuss it alone. My head is starting to hurt with all these words I don’t know. Find me before the night’s over, though, because we have to fit in that blow job you paid me for.” You gave his bicep a squeeze and left their group to stand like the Blair Witch facing the front wall of the exhibit hall.

You counted to ten before turning around and patting your thigh. “Hot boy! Useless, hot boy! Come here and make yourself useful! Hot boy! You simply have to learn this fun fact about the American alligator!”

Through the tanks of taxidermy, you made out a scowling Tom shaking his head and handing the champagne glasses to Harrison. “Oh? Did you think I was talking to you? I meant Harrison!”

So, Tom held three, empty champagne flutes next to Jacob while Haz jogged to the front of the hall towards you, where you grinned as you leant against the alligator exhibit. “Seen any good movies lately?”

“Yeah, I saw one earlier today called What the Fuck Are You Doing? I would ask you if you were drunk,” Harrison said, jovially crossing his arms and joining you in propping his weight against the tank, “but I know better.”

“I read all of the information on the Komodo dragon and wanted to learn about other reptiles.”

“Are you gonna let him stew?”

“Yeah.” You shifted to cross one ankle over the other. “You’ve seen the way he’s been talking about me tonight, right?”

“I don’t know what else you’ve argued about recently,” said Harrison, nudging you with his shoulder, “and don’t think I can’t tell, but yeah, even just tonight would piss me off, if it were me. Not sure it excuses your behaviour.”

“So, what,” you said, clicking your tongue, “I couldn’t say, Say hello to your raging erection for me, since he didn’t have one, so I whipped out an equivalent. Jacob knows him, anyhow, so there’s no real harm done. Be grateful I’m not acting out in a way that matters.”

“Viper,” said Haz, facing you full on and away from Tom and Jacob, “What’s going on between you and him? He doesn’t even mention you when he comes in to work nowadays. Someone does, and he goes stony. Goes on to ignore you. What’s happening?”

You sighed, biting your lip and fiddling with your necklace. “Harrison, tell me I’m pretty.”

“Were I not mourning my girlfriend,” he said, crossing his heart with his index finger, “I would be trying to fuck you in the closest bathroom.”

“Thank you,” you said, “Even though that’s not what I was going for.”

“I think you’re absolutely gorgeous,” came a voice from the entrance—oh, Adrien? He took a hesitant step towards Harrison and you. “Thought it was as good a time as any to budge in. Am I interrupting?”

“Nor really. Harrison, I don’t think you met Adrien. He’s been working with Ms. Pham and me on the gem exhibit,” you said, smiling while they shook hands, “He’s the master electrician; he does the lights. Makes sure every facet of the diamond is flaunted. Adrien, this is my co, Harrison.”

“Thought I wouldn’t find you, since Glory’s taken my phone,” said Adrien.

Harrison cocked his head. “Yours, too? What’s with that woman?”

“Something about technology removing you from the moment.” Adrien shrugged, twisting the bottom of his champagne flute and popping it off. “To be fair, it works.”

“Is Glory looking for me?” you asked, wincing.

“No,” said Adrien, but he cringed after your sigh of relief as he went on. “But I’ve just been told she wants us to help catering strike when this is all over.”

“Fuck,” you said, “That is nowhere in my job description.”

Harrison placed a hand on your shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just pissed,” you said, frowning. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Tom waving off Jacob and striding your way. “Hey, why don’t we skive off together? It’s the end of the job. It’s not like she can get rid of us, and we can act like we don’t know—”

Tom swiped Harrison’s hand off your shoulder to stand between you. The conversation stopped completely while you glared at the spot he touched, but you didn’t acknowledge Tom himself.

“Anyway,” you said, edging closer to Haz and Adrien, trying to close the circle, “We could skip strike together, go get cheesecake somewhere while we’re in formalwear, and chill. You in?”

Adrien’s toothy smile lit up his whole face, but Harrison was fighting with difficulty to conceal his own. “Absolutely,” said Adrien, brushing his blond hair out of his eyes, “The closest place is Bones, but we could probably get to Milly’s without much trouble.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, “And if we can’t get out of it, we should blare our music throughout the museum; the acoustics are so good here.”

Tom clamped his free hand on your shoulder, and you looked down at it. “Hey, you can’t just ignore me.”

“Don’t touch me,” you said, narrowing your eyes.

He squeezed your shoulder. “Then behave, goddammit,” said Tom, “You’re being outrageous. Can’t you pay attention to me?”

You knocked the champagne flutes out of his hand, and they clattered to the floor. You opened your mouth in Haz’s and Adrien’s direction as if nothing happened, but Tom grumbled from the floor before you could speak.

“Stop being so childish. You’re like a goddamn cat,” he said, standing.

“Oh, so I’m a cat, now? Is it because cats are held in binary comparison to dogs which are seen as inherently masculine whereas cats are seen as inherently feminine and therefore bad, crazy, and more easily sexualized? Or is it because snakes do not have fat stores and thus can’t have tiddies?”

Harrison had to bite down on his fist.

“V, when we get out of here,” Tom began.

You raised an eyebrow. “What you gonna do, fire me?”

“I have half a mind to.”

“I wonder where the other half wandered? Adrien,” you said, rubbing his arm, “Do you think catering has apple juice anywhere?”

“Maybe in the downstairs kitchen, near where they do the kids’ demonstrations.” Adrien shifted his weight to his other foot, his eyes flicking between the three of you.

“Good, I’m going. It was nice to catch you before Glory wears us out. You,” you said, jabbing Tom in the chest with an entirely different demeanor, “Don’t follow me. I don’t care what you have to say to me. Leave me alone for three whole minutes.”

Adrien laughed nervously while you strode off towards the staircases, and your heart throbbed at leaving him in such a tense situation.

But holy shit. What are you doing, Tom Holland?

Apple juice. Right. The closest staircases led to mammals, but the ones nearest the Kids’ Korner would have you doubling back through Egyptology. Since reading about Nefertiti or some other woman pharaoh would give you a real lift, you retraced your steps to that section.

You came to a halt at the entrance to Egyptology and bit the inside of your cheek. The main lights had been turned off, leaving only the exhibit spotlights. Sure, the big-ass pyramid recreation was lit but not the sarcophagi, tools, statues, or any of that stuff. Huh. You had to go in a booth sectioned off from the public to mess with the lights, so it couldn’t have been some clueless shit. Adrien would have mentioned if he’d altered anything, not that Glory would have let him.

Yeah, okay.

You scanned the hall as you wove your way through it, not noticing anything out of place, really, though the mould of this particular pharaoh’s open sarcophagus appeared oddly angular compared to what you traditionally pictured as a death mask—

“Viper,” a garbled, altered voice spat in your ear; a glove slapped over your eyes—as a short blade sank into your lower back. “You seem eager to be eaten alive.” Shoving in the knife to the hilt, he twisted it. “I can provide you with some opportunities.”

You—hunched, jaw dropped—

“Now,” he said, breath hot on your skin, “take a walk off my knife.”

“Viper! Hey, the fuck are you doing?” Tom’s voice echoed in the hall as he footsteps rushed nearer; your assailant’s shoulder pressed between yours as his head whipped around, his control on the knife slipping while it ripped up through your dress, leaving a thin cut up your back—which you didn’t even register before he’d bolted.

Tom was speaking, lifting you up from the floor (when had you fallen?). “And this is why you can’t go wandering off like that.” When you staggered, he gripped your hands. “Wait, are you hurt?”

“Wow,” you said, exhaling slowly while you pulled the neckline of your dress up, “Am I hurt—” You were interrupted this time not by your dumbass boss but by your assailant fucking ramming Tom in the back, shoving both of you into the angular sarcophagus that leant against the wall, and he slammed the lid closed.

You tilted your head, listening. “Okay, four clicks in succession, that means this is probably one of the refitted-re-hinged sarcophagi archaeologists did in the 50s,” you said, while Tom scrambled to pry it open. “It’s not gonna work. These were designed to stay shut travelling on ships.” Sighing, you closed your eyes, bending your head enough to graze Tom’s nose in the dark, but then your eyes flew open. “Holy shit, I’m bleeding on a mummy; oh, my God, fuck.”

Through the light of the slim crack, you could make out that Tom had furrowed his brow. “You’re bleeding?”

“I’m on a mummy,” you said, your chest heaving, grabbing the front of Tom’s suit to try to lift yourself from the body, but it still grazed you. “I’m getting my own DNA on a millennia-old body, holy fuck, holy fuck. I need to get out right now.” You wrapped your arms under his, sliding up his back to grip his shoulders—that worked a little better, but that thing’s crossed hands still touched you. “Oh, my fuck.”

“Hold on. Where are you bleeding?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I got stabbed. I got fucking stabbed,” you said, slipping one of your legs between his while he braced himself against the sarcophagus sides. “I am ruining a goddamn mummy. I’m going to archaeology jail. Possibly real jail. Bonk.”

“Slow down. Where were you stabbed?”

“Slow down? I am lying on a mummy, Tom. Holy shit,” you said, “Get me the fuck off.”

Tom took a moment, his eyelashes illuminated by the scant light as he blinked twice, and he mumbled, “Right, then. C’mon, let’s swop places.”

“Huh? Is there room?”

“We’re going to try,” he said, and after a stretch of struggling, he shifted you as delicately as he could. In the end, you lay on top of him, lying atop the mummy.

You bent to bury your face in his chest so that you wouldn’t be snorting straight mummy dust, but he cupped your cheek to partially raise it.

“Now, V,” he said evenly, “Can you tell me where you were stabbed?”

“Lower back. Practically my ass.”

After some contorting in the cramped space, Tom snaked his arm around you, feeling around for the spot and pressing down hard once he found it. “Gotta keep pressure on it. The fabric around it feels pretty soaked. Do you feel lightheaded?”

“No. Adrenaline is probably shielding me from immediate pain,” you said, putting your face on his neck, since he insisted on hearing you (Wait, holy shit! Your face is in his neck! How romantic?). “I feel like I’m on the edge of a panic attack. But the dress is fucked; he sliced through it. Bunch it up to stifle the bleeding, if you have to. Fuuuuuck.” You licked your lips, the tip grazing his skin—a happy accident. “I’ve been reliably told that being stabbed is more painful than being shot. Fuck, how far up my back does it go?”

You squirmed to try to reach it, but Tom gripped your hand. “Don’t touch it, V. Just focus on me. You’re gonna be fine. Did you see who did it?”

“I’m not happy about you having to constantly touch me…bitch,” you said, reveling in how his hand basically pressed into the swell of your ass. “No, I didn’t, but the vocoder sounded the same as—God! I’m such an idiot. I should have said something, something about Epiales or some shit, but I clamped up! Goddammit.”

“That’s logical. You were stabbed. It’s fine,” said Tom. He strained to see your face, but you shuffled to hide yourself. He settled for pressing his lips near your hairline (!!!!). “I,” he said, pausing to breathe in slowly, “I can feel your pulse in your wound. Are you okay?”

“Am I okay—”

“Relatively, I mean.”

You shuddered into his neck, gripping both his hand and the lapel of his blazer. “Shut up.”

Tom sighed and kissed your hair, letting his lips linger. “If it makes you feel any better about any of this, you look beautiful tonight. Just—just focus on breathing steadily and staying awake, and let me hold you, all right?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, and you tried to change your position slightly, but the lid of the sarcophagus kept you still. “Don’t tell anyone I died because I got stabbed in the ass.”

“You’re not gonna die.”

“Well, last time I checked, I don’t eat fucking ambrosia and nectar, so I’m not fucking immortal, but go off, I guess.”

“An amendment: you’re not gonna die because of this,” he said, “We’ll call Haz—”

“If we had our phones.”

“God—” Tom scrunched up his face. “Damn it.”

The two of you simmered in silence for a while, with Tom eventually resting his other hand high on your back after pushing at the lid some more, and from the way he initially rubbed his fingers together, you were bleeding up there, too. Your heart rate had slowed with the adrenaline wearing off, and a stiff pang spread throughout your back. Honestly, if you tried to take your mind away to distract yourself from the pain, you could fall asleep, what with Tom’s body heat and the no-longer-being-directly-on-a-mummy, and all. You let your eyes close.

Tom cleared his throat. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your eyes shot open.

“I think you need to be honest about how you feel about me.”

You jerked away from his chest with such force that you railed it into the lid, but you couldn’t focus on that pain. “Do we have to do this now?”

He pressed down on your wound. “Would you like to consider damages we’ll have to pay to the museum instead?”

“Yes!”

With the new space between you, Tom reached out to graze your cheek with the back of his fingers. “C’mon, love. What am I to you?” He slid them to your chin to grip it. “Are you simply using me to get ahead?”

You scoffed. “Where would I go?”

He lowered his hand down your neck, traced your collarbone, and moved it to the nape of your neck to pull you towards him again (you got a face full of whatever Old Spice he’s wearing). “What do you want?”

You, bitch.

But you’re not going to say that.

And also the liberty to be my own person apart from you (maybe one day eventually)? Please?

That, either.

Tom clearly meant to stroke your back, but he couldn’t move his hand much and resigned himself to rubbing the bare skin at the back of your neck. “Come on. Tell the truth for once in your damn life.”

“I wanna see John Mulaney tonight.”

Tom groaned and bent to place his forehead against yours, and he swore under his breath. “Please,” he said, “Please. I’ll do anything for you. Anything. And you know it.” Tom kissed the tip of your nose before moving onto your cheek, keeping it dry and kissing down your face to your jawline; he slid his knee between your thighs, and with his hand stifling your blood, he guided you to grind gently against him.

I want all this to be over.

Frozen, you held your breath (both from Tom and from mummy), your fingers spread wide and you trembled. Lightning surged up your spine from your stab wound, concentrating in your neck. You gasped.

Tom was misinterpreting it; he was tipping your head to the side to make his way to just below your ear—he traced his tongue around the shell of your ear.

And if it’s going to end, Tom has to have all of the information.

He bit down when your legs clamped around his upper thigh, and he was warm—no. No, he was burning, and you remained frozen.

Which means letting him in.

“You dumb fuck,” you said, striking his chest once with your fist, “I’m Epiales. I’m the one writing all that shit.”

Tom’s lips halted at their spot on your jaw. “What.”

“It’s me. It’s my website. My work. I’m not on the twitter. I wasn’t lying when I said that was fake,” you said, “but the website and the Times column are mine.”

Tom pulled back from you, but you couldn’t read his expression in the dark. “What?”

Before you could elaborate, you were blinded by the influx of light and stumbled backwards out of the sarcophagus and onto the floor, sucking into through your teeth. Tom had caught himself and stood over you, and he opened his mouth to thank—

“You can’t just fucking shut yourselves in a fucking exhibit because you want to make out.” Glory Pham fumed. “You’re going to fucking ruin my—”

“Ms. Pham,” said Tom, “She’s been stabbed.”

“Get real, you little shit.” Glory gritted her teeth, and she kicked at you with her pointed shoes. “Where in the goddamn hell is it?”

“Holy fuck,” said Tom, swooping to block her foot, “It’s on her back. Can’t you see the bleed—”

“I don’t give a damn about your injury. The diamond, you fucker. Where’s the goddamn diamond?”

“Oh, my God,” you said from the ground, struggling to push yourself up on your elbows. “Oh, my God? Ms. Pham, what’s—”

“It’s missing, and I saw you sneak off by yourself. You’re the hired outsider; you’re the one always miffed with me; I know you have it on you, and I’ll scrape it out of your cunt if I have to—”

“Ms. Pham, holy shit. Why would I stick something sharp and a ten on the Mohs scale up myself when I have access to perfectly mediocre dick?” You pointed up at Tom, hard from—from what he—holy shit, you almost made out with him in a fucking sarcophagus. In a damn coffin.

Tom stepped to your side so that he wouldn’t be directly over you. “Ladies, why don’t you check the security cameras?”

Something pricked Glory at that, and she deflated. Her mouth twitched. “I may have been jumping to conclusions too soon.” She glowered down at you. “Why were you going off by yourself?”

Blood seeped down between your asscheeks. “Ms. Pham, I went to get apple juice from the kitchen near the Kids’ Korner.”

She sneered. “Why would you be going to get—”

“I can’t drink, Ms. Pham, and I got stabbed when I went to get some.”

“I came in as she was stabbed,” said Tom, holding out his hand towards Glory as if she were an untamed animal. Steady. “Her assailant escaped after locking us in the sarcophagus.”

Glory pinched the bridge of her nose and, you assumed, swore loudly in Vietnamese.

“Has it been an hour? Have we opened the hall yet?” You grunted as you stood, accepting Tom’s help (returning his hand to apply pressure to your wound and taking your hand, though his movements were stiff). “We can still salvage this somehow. We can say we had a—”

“Enough,” said Glory, and she waved you off. “No. In. Credible. I have to back out of a year’s worth of work.”

You ran your tongue over your lower lip, staggering a bit. “We don’t have to. I can say something to—”

She shook her head. “No. Get out.”

“Pardon?” you asked in a small voice.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want to hear from you,” said Glory, turning her back on you to walk away. She stopped herself. “If I want to contact you, I will. Don’t expect anything.”

And she was gone.

You barely had time to slump before Tom yanked you along. “C’mon, you fucking snake,” said Tom, jerking your arm forward, “You got any last words?”

You dry-heaved and stumbled over your own feet past Egyptian relics. “Yeah,” you said, “Say hello to your raging erection for me.”

***

compos mentis: of sound mind

***

taglist: @hollandroos @madmadmilk @parkerroos @parsleysbaby @z-ukos @pparkerwrites @lunamyangel @stealth-spiderr @presidentbttrflyfreak @paradoxparker @bi-writes @astronomyparkers @infamous-webhead @laurfangirl424 @softspideys @gryffinpuffs @plethoraofpuppies @laucontrerasv @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @spiderboytotherescue @cassiopeiaskies

[imtryingthisout]

A Story for Virgil: The King and His Songbird

[for @sanderssides-magicalgirlau by @nachosforfree

Word count: 1686

Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton, imprisonment, implied abuse]

Once Upon A Time there was a kingdom that lay by the Sea. A beautiful kingdom, if there ever was one, for the King liked beautiful things, and wished to surround himself with them.

The marble halls were lined with grand oil paintings, depicting ancient battles and long past rulers. Intricate silver leafing was sprawled around every doorway, twisting about the numerous large gemstones embedded in the walls. Pale blue like the noon-day Sky.

Yes, the King had a great many beautiful treasures, all of which he loved to admire, yet none he adored so much as his prized Songbird.

The King had met his songbird when he was just a young prince, who had not yet inherited the burden of his father. He had been walking in one of the palace’s many grand and spiralling gardens, enjoying the way the sun’s rays reflected off the blooming flowers. When he heard a most wondrous noise. For there, perched upon a pale-white branch, was a singing songbird. Who had feathers so dark a black they shone violet, and eyes so pure they reflected the emerald leaves.

The Prince was transfixed, for though he had every luxury afforded by his status, he could not have recalled a voice so lovely in all his life. It was softer than even his Mother’s lullabies, and so full of hope it nearly made him weep.

“Hello pretty bird” the Prince called, “why do you sing so sweet?” and the Songbird answered with a rising melody- that if the Prince was a Songbird he would have known meant ‘The sun is high, my stomach is full, the world is fair- so why shouldn’t I sing?” But the Prince was not a bird, and so he simply smiled without understanding.

Eventually the Prince was called inside by his Tutor, and the Songbird was without company. But the Prince returned the next day, and the next. Bringing with him seeds to lure the Songbird down from his perch. Bringing with him stories of laughter to win the Songbird’s trust. And trust him the Songbird did, for it had never had reason not to.

And for a time, all was well.

When the Prince was crowned King, somethings changed, and somethings did not. He still wore square-rimmed glasses, he still made awful jokes. He still loved beautiful things.

Every evening he would walk into his garden, which held itself in a dome of crafted glass, and he would wait for his songbird to fill the air with music.

And for a time, this was enough.

Then one night, after a long day of tiresome work with tiresome people, the King walked into his garden heavy-minded and in his last nerve. For in all his silk and finery, nothing seemed to comfort him anymore. Nothing except his Songbird.

Which is why he was shocked to find his Songbird singling, not to him, but to the son of the palace chef. Who seemed to be enjoying the sound very much- if the relaxed smile on his face was anything to go by.

An unpleasant feeling stirred within the King’s chest. Something dark, somthing ossessive. What had the Chef’s son done to earn his Songbird? Why should he get to listen to it’s grace? He was not a king, just a worker’s child. No one worthy of such a prize like his Songbird.

“Guards” he commanded “There is a trespasser in my garden. Seize him and throw him in the tallest tower”so they did. And For a time, the King though it was good.

But when the King returned to his garden, his Songbird did not sing. When the King asked his advisors, they suggested if he wanted the Songbird so badly- then he should cage it. And so he did.

Like everything else in the King’s palace, the cage was beautiful. Crafted by hand from molten gold, delicate spires of shining wire overlayed each other, letting in the sun. Keeping in the Songbird.

But still days went by, and the Songbird did not sing.

“What did you do?!” Demanded the King, as he stood above the Chef’s son- whose brilliant eyes were dull, and whose leg was most definitely broken “What did you do to my Songbird?”

The Chef’s son wanted desperately to spit upon the King’s face, instead he gave a lazy shrug and slowly said, “I have no idea what you mean? I didn’t do anything to your precious songbird” he smiled, with a tad too much teeth, “nothing he didn’t want anyway”

By the end of the King’s visit the Chef’s son was no longer smiling, and still the Songbird would not sing.

“Pretty Bird, my dear Songbird” the King asked “Why won’t you sing for me?” The Songbird just looked at him, with eyes empty and spiteful. ‘You have taken my love, broken my wings, and caged me in metal and loneliness- what cause do I have, to sing to you?’ But the King could not hear the Songbird’s thoughts. And so they remained.

The Songbird was not the only creature the King kept in his Palace, in fact he had many exotic and fascinating animals. A toxic green octopus in his lake, a komodo dragon in his yard. But perhaps the most deadly and dangerous of these creatures, was the King’s orange tabby cat, which loved to roam the halls.

One day the tabby cat found its way into the room that held the Songbird’s cage. Maybe it was curiosity, or boredom, or simple cruelty- but for whatever reason the Tabbycat decided to jump up upon the table wood- and see what was inside the golden cage.

“My, aren’t you a lovely thing” said the Tabbycat “I wonder why he keeps you up here?” The Songbird said nothing, too focused on the sharp claws scraping along his cage to hear. “Maybe it’s for your feathers, they are such stunning feathers.” He paused. “I wonder what they would feel like between my teeth”

The Songbird said nothing, for what was there to say? They just looked at each other, the Bird and the Tabbycat, until the awful smile slid off the feline’s face, and he told the other “You know- it’s no fun to mess with you if you aren’t going to say anything.”

“....”

“Besides I already know why he likes you, and it has nothing to do with those feathers of yours”

“....”

“Still nothing? How about a deal, if you give me a song, I will use my strength to knock the cage over the table, so that it will break open and you will be free”

The thought of freedom was so great, that it caused the Songbird to open its mouth, and sing.

And sing he did, he sang of sorrow, he sang of joy, he sang of his mother, and he sang of the Baker’s boy. He sang everything the could not say, if only to live for another day.

And when every note faded from the air- the Tabbycat made good on his promise- and kicked the cage off of the table chair.

The Songbird’s wings ached from disuse, and he could not fly with the fractures in his bones. But he still climbed his way up to the Tallest Tower. Where the Chef’s son was being held.

It was dark, in his prison, for the tower had no windows, and whatever slivers of moonlight escaped through the cracks- were hidden by the clouds tonight. It was fitting, in some twist of fate, that the boy who could never stand the sunlight now lived in enteral shadow.

The funny thing was, he didn’t regret it. The King was growing into himself, a man worse than even his forefather, so it was only a matter of time until The Chef’s son slipped up. He was never quite good and falling in line.

Besides, who wouldn’t have snuck into the King’s Private garden? When the orchards were barren and the food scarce- who wouldn’t try to grab some forbidden fruit, when everything good and plentiful was hidden behind the King’s laws and walls?

The fact that the garden also housed the world's most enchanting songbird was non withstanding.

The fact that, that very songbird was now climbing over a hundred flights of stairs to reach him, was something unbeknownst to the Chef’s Son. But it was a fact all the same.

The guards outside the door were overworked and underpaid, dreariness etched into their bones. The songbird bird barely had to chirp before they were out like a light. Asleep at their post.

When the Chef’s Son heard the rumbling of keys being put in the door, he braced himself for another ‘visit’ from the King. His leg had not yet healed from their last chat, and he was not looking forward to another wound. But it wasn’t like he had a choice in the matter.

You can imagine his relief when he saw, not the crazed smile of His Majesty, but the small form of the songbird- the guards keychain still held in its beak.

“Hey babes, what brings you around here” he said casually, but God he could almost cry. He gently picked the Bird up, cradling it in his hands. “I guess he broke you too huh. Wonder what you did to make him so mad?” The Chef’s son was no mind reader- but he swore he could see a mischievous glint in the Songbird’s eye.

“Come on Bonny-Bird, let's get ourselves out of here”

And so the Songbird and the Chef’s Son escapes from the Tower, from the Palace, and from the Kingdom itself. They fled into the Wild Forest, where the sun did it shine bright enough to hurt the Boy’s eyes, and where a flock of Songbirds made their nests within the tall trees. It was land grown feral, and untamed. Beautiful, but not in the ways the King’s Palace was beautiful. It was not perfect, but it was safe. And eventually, it was home.

And so the Boy and the Songbird had many more adventures and lived happily ever after. The End.

[labrat8899]

TSS headcannons about the day zak was born: 

drew had to havean emergency c-section and almost FUCKING DIED from (most likely from blood loss). that’s why doc and drew never had another baby, even though they wanted more 

doc knew some other scientist/doctor outside the secret scientists and had them deliver zak even though doc probably could have done it himself but said no. because you know. that’s his wife and unborn son. 

zak was born with that white fluff of hair, but it was super tiny 

zak was also a big baby (weight and length wise) 

zak’s real name is zakaria (doc decided on the name) but doc and drew both agreed to never call zak by that name 

all the secret scientists came to visit doc, drew and zak right after zak was born and was very excited about the new edition 

doc and drew made one of the secret scientists zak’s godparent (my money is on paul) 

komodo was around and was NOT happy about the new member of the family

also, can we all just picture doc holding little newborn zak, with zak’s tiny hand wrapped around doc’s giant finger, and doc looking down at zak and saying “he’s perfect”. because that mental image brings me so much joy. (someone needs to draw this ASAP)    

[bammtoris]

For the obscure question thing. 3, 6, 13, 18, 23, 39

3. What movie/game/etc helps you calm down?

I guess i really like the movie atonement, and lalaland fhdh i know i know how cheesy of me but the cinematography brings so much peace to me i feel a lot safer and comfortable after watching those

6. What kind of music would you listen to if you could only choose one?

This is hard!! Im into all sorts of things (ive watched prodigal son so much see there) i love latin pop/grunge and indie as well but i think ill stay with indie cuz florence welch makes me uwu

13. Talk about an au or story you came up with

Ah I don’t think much about stories but i made a backstory a while back for some of my ocs :) in resumes

its about the beginning of time, a lonely crocodile wondered through the nothingness, he represents the neutrons of an atom, his loneliness became too unbearable that he created the big bang, and from his tears created ‘Misty’ a komodo dragon, she can’t exists unless the crocodile cries and the thought of not having her back fills him with a lot of conflicted feelings of both melancholy and joy. And well after they create the universe and blah blah if you want more about this i could make a proper post haha,These are my kiddos uwu

18. What animal would you keep as a pet, if you could?

I love ferrets and hedgehogs so ithat would be it :)

23. Do you like soft, fluffy blankets or rough/smooth blankets?

Definitely soft fluffy blankets they bring so much comfort and eases me down in the night

39. Earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds they are easier to carry around hhh

[zozammer]

Black Heart

I realised why I can’t speak or think sometimes.

Here’s an epiphany.

I have a black heart and my mind and mouth keep trying to compensate for it.

There exists a lack of self worth due to the fact that I will be turning 27 in a week or two, and I have yet to be independent.

I’m not exactly a struggling artist. In fact I was very blessed by 2018 for more inward realisations and thus, subtle shifts.

I keep thinking about this friend who once said this to me years ago and I was deeply hurt by it. I carried that accusation with me everywhere. Almost like a mantra, except I didn’t intend for it to impress into my heart and understanding. That happens though if you hold on to things and words and images.

That’s the thing with thoughts. 

See them pass by, else they rest with you.

I have a black heart today and I’m not so sad about it. Rather, relieved that I have clarity. I realised how I fucked up. Not completely, but yes, I do see it.

And I also see that there’s no point looking back. 

Much like the ivory necklace my mother gave me. Not like I support such trade. But now it is an heirloom and I don’t experience much guilt possessing it.

The contents of my black heart and muck :

Resentment towards how things turned out.

Regret and Guilt over how things turned out.

Insecurity over how things would be in the future.

Insecurity over how little I have / had / will have / won’t have.

A red silk box with black trimmings holding,

F   E    A   R

Fear of not surviving.

Of not thriving as I saw it.

Of not ever being satisfied, content, accepted, understood, loved, respected, 

Of healing, 

Of not being good enough, not getting it right, of being left behind, 

Of never being able to bring another person joy and laughter, 

Of losing my inner child to darkness.

Of rejection and exclusion.

Of betrayal.

... I have a thing for holding on to mist. :)

In a corner is a rose, planted for my childhood best friend.

In another, is a sunflower planted for gentle friendships. 

And thus, around all my fears I built up guards in the shapes of various beasts to protect, wrestle, and scheme. Sometimes a snake, sometimes a lion, sometimes a komodo dragon or a bear or a hawk or a fox or a dead lizard.

Inside my heart, there is ANGER.

But I realised that this anger is good.

Because this anger desires change.

And I’m more about change than I am about accepting things as they are. (Oddly, change occurs only once you loosen your grip of the mist haha)

I now observe my anger and listen patiently to what it wants, what it needs in order to be quenched. And figure out a healthy alternative.

.. My mind and speech will always remain a bit jagged and sharp until my heart feels at peace again. 

Gotta get down to spiritual keto to cleanse from time to time.

[huffmaster]

CASTLE 4 SALE, AFFORDABLE

             What if, there was a castle for sale, and it was affordable

Doable, feasible, decorate with tapestries full of lore, Lancelot

Guinevere, kings queens, get a throne, crowns, golden goblets

Oriental rugs, memoirs of a geisha, samurai swords, kimonos

For the komodo dragons, throw a soiree, have a good joust

Honor gained, songs sung, share a few Canterbury Tales

Pig roast, turkey drumsticks, puppet show, devil sticks, jugglers

With torches, lighting up the night around sunset, what a time

What if, california king-sized four poster bed, curtains top to down

Floats off to sleep, as if Aladdin on his rug, or a tiny prince

Allowed and safe to continue fanciful thoughts & things, dreams and

Fairy tales, taming the night, riding the clouds, a rose

Beauty and the beast, petals fall, what a curse, here’s my castle

Full with, candlesticks, clocks, teapots, tea cups, and a feather duster

Be our guest, up the castle’s paths, cobblestones, ‘neath apple

Blossom trees, shrubbery, pine trees, look there far off that’s my fox

            So let’s go down to the wishing well, think of something

Got some coins, let’s play what-if, build a dream, build a bear

Be happy, content with just a few things, not a lot just

A few from the wishing well, a castle oh yeah a castle

With some things castles have, curtains on a bed, foxes

In the garden, with weather always warm and sunny

Don’t think i’d need anything else, just a castle i

Think

           What if, foxes came out to play, the stars you could hear ‘em laugh

Lawn as far as the eye can see, picnic under a tree

Warm wind painting the skin, blanket floating on the grass

All the while Time’s in the shade, sun dial fun file smile

Trumpets sound in the court, royal insignia hang, hear the horses

On the paths, knights armor all on display, all for this play

A day of dream, day of scene, excited now, let me show 

Where this leads, horse buggy muggy ride, lake’s not far from here

What if, rowed out to the middle of the lake, swans songs can see

Way deep down, in the sky there’s a balloon, an archer takes aim

A teddy bear floats by, then a seahorse, spot them as they go

Practical slips through then hides, this is not a surprise, eyes

On the prize, just a short reprieve, pause from life, tough

Rough around the edges till you try, make out the picture fully

Few times, it gets clearer, a midnight ride, moon full bright

Orange, behind a veil, timid sky’s stars just laugh, cause they get it

            So lets go down to the wishing well, think of somethings

Got some coins, lets play what-if, build a dream, build a bear

Be happy, content with just a few things, not a lot just

A few from the wishing well, a castle oh yeah a castle

With some things castles have, curtains on a bed, foxes

In the garden, with weather always warm and sunny

Don’t think i’d need anything else, just a castle I 

Think

             What if, at the stroke of midnight, the carriage, castle

Was still here, no glass slipper, no pumpkin, just this 

Warm night, thick with humid, soft light from the candles

Music still playing in beat with the crickets, none sense

But here we are, nonsensical unreasonable, a planet the size 

Of one man, to all this, land a fox that plays, stars

That laugh, lets go to the well, no not even to wish

A wish now could only diminish this, Just to remember

What if, no need for a wish, just accomplished had the things

Not much, just takes a little time, yellow brick road curtain back 

Pulled , still as grand, just not as bad, truth be told wizard

It’s all good, comes from within, never be happy with things

If your not happy without, can fix all things, but all things

Don’t bring joy, know this so sitting here on this well makes

Me think, a wishing well right here for me, but I don’t think

I have a need, fine right here right now, can’t imagine

I need a what-if

            So lets go down to the wishing well, think of somethings

Got some coins, let’s play what-if, build a dream, build a bear

Be happy, content with just a few things, not a lot just 

A few from the wishing well, a castle oh yeah a castle 

With some things castles have, curtains on a bed, foxes

In the garden, with weather always warm and sunny

Don’t think i’d need anything else, just a castle I

Think

[godsizemylife-blog]

He shows up where and when I don’t expect Him!

It turned out to be just Sandy and me  yesterday, off to “hike” (definition: walking leisurely, talking about the Lord, and interacting with docents and people on the trails) at the botanical gardens and then the zoo, taking advantage of our respective memberships. We walked unintentional circles at the garden, enjoying some funny pumpkin “sculptures” like the poor guy painfully covered in cholla and a couple of gourd-os sitting at a logs only  campfire  toasting s’mores. One of the docents who struck up a conversation with us didn’t even know  the pumpkins were there, so we pointed her to, it turned out, the tail end of the pumpkin walk.

In our conversation there I shared a possibly too true insight a friend made in a Bible study group several years ago. He suspected one of the things that went unobserved and unwritten about all the times Jesus went off by himself to pray was (no disrespect intended) Jesus slapping himself on the forehead and crying out, “Oy vey,  these yutzes! Father, how am I supposed to work with these yutzes??!!” The fact that we’d steered the docent in the wrong direction only emphasized the likelihood of the Lord’s possible prayer …..

We  passed a beautiful red-flowered plant unknown to either Sandy or me. It looked like a cross between a Bougainvillea and a hibiscus, and though I don’t remember it’s scientific name, we decided it must be a bougainbiscus.  We listened to another docent manning a table of blooms, and he pointed us in the right direction to go see the butterfly pavilion, which was wonderful. Fluttering, flitting beautiful wings were all around us, and I state publicly that the fact it  takes four generations of monarch butterflies to make the round-trip migratory journey, and the great-grandparents of the returning lepidoptera aren’t around to tell their great-grandoptera where “home” is, clearly tells me there IS a Creator,Intelligent Designer, and Architect of all the wonders in the world. We wandered around trying to find our way out of the wildflower loop and drove down the road to the zoo.

More natural wonders awaited us on trails there: Komodo dragons, whose bite is venomous, so all they have to do is bite their prey  and wait for it to die; orangutans strong  enough to rip your arm off, but who spend their lives in the wild high up in trees and make “nests” in the  branches for sleeping; giraffes, and enough said about their incredible design. I truly enjoyed my two years of  working at the real zoo, after thirteen years of  substitute teaching in a very different ”zoo” setting. We encountered Hannah, one of Sandy’s friends from her church who works at the zoo while she’s attending seminary,  and since  she was being trained to drive  the  train (yes, pun intended) I told her about the songs I wrote for about ten animals the train passes. She said she’s be glad for me to send them to her.

We bought sandwiches for lunch, sat down on the benches around a shaded table, and continued sharing about some of the”God-incidences” in our lives., when an older woman pushing a young child in a stroller politely asked if she could shar our table, and we replied we were happy to share the shade.Since I know personally about the early childhood programs there, I asked if the boy was her grandson, and then told her about the wonderful breakfast programs that are an adult’s “ticket” to get up close to  some  of the animals in the zoo’s collection. I asked Paul, who’sfour, if I could sing a song for him, and commenced into, ”Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’ in your muddy hole ’n’  keep your body rollin,’ warthog ….” to a tune only older adults always laughed at.

Being a bit humorous and silly seems to break the ice. Noting the cross necklace the grandma wore, I asked,”Are you a Believer?”

“Believer in what?” she replied.

I held up my own cross necklace and said,”In this.”

“I sure am!” she smiled, and a new door opened up for us to share about our  faith. Even though we are in different denominations, Jesus’ sarificial death on the cross – God Himself paying the horrendous penalty for humanity’s rebellion against God’s Holy authority and Righteousness AND love for us all – unites Christians of every “flavor.” So together we said the opening line, “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible  tells me so!”

And here’s what it says:

“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”  Romans 3:23

“For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  Romans 6:23

BUT “God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

And expanding on Romans:23 “Forallhave sinnedandfall short of the glory of God, AND  ARE JUSTIFIED FREELY BY HIS GRACE through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. God presented him as a sacrifice of atonement, through faith in his blood. He did this to demonstrate His justice, because in His forbearance he had left the sins committed beforehand unpunished – He (God) did it to demonstrate His justice at the present time, so as to be just and the one who justifies those who have  faith in Jesus.” Romans 3”23-26

5 And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.

6 You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. 7 Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. 8 But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

9 Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! 10 For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! 11 Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation.  Romans 5: 5-11 NIV

God is Just, AND God is Love. Neither cancels the other. Only one unites them both perfectly: Jesus,Y’shua, however you say his name in your language. Jesus said:

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former.” Matthew 23:23 And after a long passage of “Woes,” Jesus cried out to Jerusalem with fierce love and longing to  bring everyone there into his loving, sheltering arms.

It’s BOTH Justice AND Mercy, in one perfect person to satisfy both. And how utterly amazing, relentless, selfless, pure and passionate is the heart of God who Himself teaches, leads, forgives, heals, bleeds, rises from death, justifies and redeems us!

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are – yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace  with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need… because Jesus lives forever, he has a permanent priesthood. Therefore he is able to save completely those who come to God  through him, because he  always lives to intercede for them. Hebrews 4:15-16, 7: 24-25 NIV

In Jesus we can drop the censure we hear and feel from ourselves and from others, and become, in praising and thanking God for his incredible gift of love, the incense in the censer held by our Great High Priest Jesus, rising up in a fragrant offering to the One who makes us pure, loved, and joyfully pleasing to God.

The pumpkins and butterflies and orangutans  and squirrel monkeys were fun, but sharing with “Mimi” and little Paul was pure joy! Behold what manner of love the Father has given us, that we should be called the children of God! And when Jesus drops into my life with connections like this, I feel the intense, outrageous love  that he IS! Love alive, love present, love embracing, love forgiving (oy vey!) and love overcoming.

a”…BUT…” to pray today: Father God, loving Lord jesus, sometimes I  don’t  sense your love for me. Sometimes I feel all too much my “yutz-ness” and all I sense is the censure of others, BUT you promise that your love never fails and you will never, ever leave me, ,so I’m asking you to show me your love, and you get to decide how, when and where. Feel welcomed into my life to surprise me,  Jesus! In your name I pray, and Holy Spirit, I’m listening, waiting AND watching __________________________________________________________

      Bougainbiscus, Butterflies, Silly Songs and Jesus Loves Me He shows up where and when I don’t expect Him! It turned out to be just Sandy and me  yesterday, off to “hike” (definition: walking leisurely, talking about the Lord, and interacting with docents and people on the trails) at the botanical gardens and then the zoo, taking advantage of our respective memberships.