#still figuring what pronouns my Jimmy uses

[finnzcorner]

Did I just give Jimmy two corsets for this upcoming drawing? Yes, because they deserve it.

[arpmemething2]

Agent Carter quotes

Send one for my muse’s response.  Feel free to change pronouns as needed.

"She's a cute broad. When she's not punching me in the face. Who is she?"

"I think you're a man out for his own gain no matter who you're charging."

"How refreshing to meet someone who appreciates the finer things."

"Then we may get hurt, there'll be a spray of bullets."

"Does anyone else feel a chill going up their knickers?"

"I used to strap a chair to my ass and take long walks around the neighborhood, too."

"Your line of work requires support. People who care about your well-being, who'll be there to stitch up your wounds."

"He can be thoughtless. Inconsiderate. Vain. Childish. Unreliable. Arrogant."

"Because unless I have your reports, your coffee, or your lunch, I am invisible."

"It's so hard getting straight answers out of people nowadays. Whatever happened to a nice cup of tea and a civilized interrogation?"

"Promise you'll get the son of a bitch who did this. Say it!"

"You were trying to do something good, and I believe you accomplished it."

"Well, that was a bit premature."

"What? I hate small spaces. What if the chain snaps and I fall to my death?"

"I was angry. That doesn't mean I want you to die."

"You have one chip to trade on, fear, and fear is the one tool that little girls who grow up handcuffed to their beds learn. I however am not afraid of you."

"I'd rather be the cowboy."

"To you, I’m a stray kitten left on your doorstep to be protected. The secretary turned damsel in distress. The girl on the pedestal, transformed into some daft whore."

"And I suppose the confession portrays me as what? A patsy? A doe-eyed idiot succumbed to the charms of America’s mustachioed Casanova?"

"The necklace is equipped with a tracking device so that I can monitor your location at all times. And if you attempt to move the beacon or break even one link in the chain, you will be injected with a neurotoxin which will kill you in 35 excruciatingly painful seconds."

"I wonder if I might request a sick day."

"I'm not here to make you talk. I'm here to make you sing."

"I imagine strange women traipsing through the property isn't a completely unusual occurrence."

"If I allow people to get close to me, I'm putting them in danger."

"How would you feel if we smashed that mirror with this table?"

"Darling, you have no idea."

"Never speak again."

"Get the drop on them?" You've been in custody all of an hour, and you're Jimmy Cagney."

"Am I being fired?"

"Keep your eyes open."

"I like it. I don't think the audience is ready yet."

"You weren't really going to shoot me, were you?"

"Stop wahooing and help!"

"I know my value."

"All of my inventions are in your lab."

"Darling, you have no idea."

"But they're ready for a movie based on a comic book. Sounds like a dreadful idea."

"For all I know, you did steal your inventions."

"Comfortable back there?"

"Just another day at the office."

"I figured you'd never have a problem finding a man."

"My land lady gave me an idea."

"What kind of thing is that? The alphabet? I can teach you. Let's start with words beginning with "A"

"And one more thing... tip generously."

"Now, I go to work."

"Technically, we don't even know if it works. But, let's face it. I invented it. So, it works."

"You were happy out here, and then I came and mucked up your whole life."

"Maybe I was just fooling myself."

"Then why is your mustache so sad?"

"I'm just considering all the angles. It seems you have a lot of them."

"I, however, am not afraid of you."

"I could do with a hobby."

"In polite society, one telephones ahead before trespassing."

"I understand you're not happy with your meal."

"So, I've got two foreign agents with no voice boxes fighting over a milk truck full of experimental implosives."

"I'm so sorry. Truly."

"I have a terrible idea!"

"You're new to espionage, aren't you?"

"We're still attached to a table."

[thekimspoblog]

September, 2029.

*Iris playing video games*

*Jimmy sits down on the couch next to them*

Jimmy: Hey, it's a beautiful Saturday. Let's go do something. I found this place on the Delaware river where you can rent everything, even the fishing poles.

Iris: You want to go fishing?

Jimmy: I dunno. You said sometimes you felt more like a son than a daughter. This is me trying to do the father-son bonding thing. Am I doing it wrong?

Iris: You know what? I'd love to. Sounds fun.

----------

Supply Rental Cashier: Ok Mr. Polastri. You're gonna go down to the banks, between the rowboats and the kayaks. The safety instructor is going to give you a brief orientation about the life jackets and whatnot. Then you and your granddaughter can shove off!

Iris: Hey! That's my dad! (These kinds of misunderstandings were never not embarrassing)

Supply Rental Cashier: Sorry. In any case, enjoy your trip.

_________

Jimmy: Alright now I know you might be a little squeamish using live bait. But you know worms actually have nine hearts. And it's debated whether they even can feel pain in the same way that we-

*Iris stabs the hook clean through the worm perfect on the first try*

Jimmy: Oh look, you got it. Actually, can you do mine? Mine's off-center and it looks like it's already starting to wriggle off the hook. To be honest, I closed my eyes doing it.

___________

Jimmy: So I don't want to be over simplistic about it, but I have to ask. What does this mean in terms of... you know... bringing someone home? I mean girls? Boys? You're almost twelve; I assume you have some idea of who you like by now.

Iris: I dunno. There are some pretty girls I've noticed I guess... What's that look for?

Jimmy: I'm a little relieved, is all. If you had a girlfriend, I'd have advice on how to treat her. If you were my daughter and you had a boyfriend, I'd have advice on how he should be treating you. But two boys? I'm not homophobic or anything; I'd just be out of my depths. I've always gotten along better with women. All the relationships I've had with other men were...

*Jimmy trails off, laughing darkly*

Iris: Dad, I'm still figuring out what gender I am. Let alone whether I'm "gay" whatever that would mean in this context. And besides, I've got too much on my mind right now. Too many things I want to do with my life. Love would just feel like a distraction.

Jimmy: Yeah this is definitely a conversation you should be having with your mom.

Iris: *Loud sigh* You should have seen the look on her face when I came out to her.

Jimmy: You're more alike than you might think.

Iris: I can just tell she doesn't believe me.

Jimmy: Well she has less experience than I do dealing with freaks. And I mean that as a compliment! But seriously, I'd be lying if I said I fully understood it either. But I'm adding a 'yet' to that statement. I'm not a grammar nazi; you want to say 'they/them' is a singular pronoun, who am I to argue? I promise, your mother might not get her head around it, but she'll respect the ground rules you lay down. I think she's just scared. No matter how you look, I think she'd want to tell you not to walk the streets after dark, and to keep your hand over your drink when talking to strangers.

Iris: Her neuroticism is going to crush me.

Jimmy: She's not wrong though.

(Silence)

Jimmy: Come to think of it, I did have one male friend. I've told you about Marco, right?

*Iris nods*

Iris: I've always liked that ring. Can I have it? I mean... when I go off to college or something?

*Jimmy looks off into the sunset pensively, then begins to take the pinky ring off*

Jimmy: Hell, you can have it right now.

______________

*Both admiring the boney minnow they caught*

Iris: Those pole rentals are a rip-off. Next time, we should just buy our own.

Jimmy: You mean it?

Iris: Why did you wait for me to be tomboy before you thought to try this?

Jimmy: If you haven't noticed, I try to avoid the great outdoors whenever possible.

@richeeduvie @2entangledworms @mcwexlerscigarette

[something-in-your-walls]

I'm gonna post some stuff about characters for my Coon and Friends au in parts, so it may be a bit long. Don't murder me for this.

Part one: Toolshed (Sammy)

Toolshed, in this au, is 13 and in 7th grade, the oldest of the kiddos.

Toolshed goes by He/She pronouns. She goes by She/Her in the comic and in this blog to avoid confusion, but she is STILL Bigender, and she doesn’t mind whichever set you use.

Toolshed is the more calm and collected one of the group. When she ISN’T any of those things, shit’s about to go down. She’s also the parental/older sibling figure, trying to keep everyone somewhat unharmed and somewhat sane.

Toolshed likes women romantically, yes, but knows DAMN well she’s asexual. She’s kinda in denial about it, because she doesn’t wanna be seen as a weirdo.

Toolshed has ADHD and hyperfixates a lot, so she takes adderall. She also stims unknowingly when she’s nervous. (cracking her knuckles, bouncing her leg, etc…)

Toolshed’s one of the more innocent ones of the group. Although still dirty minded, she doesn’t get certain dirty jokes, or jokes that aren’t around the media. For example, she understands ’69’ and stuff like that, but if you talk about ‘estrogen’, she wouldn’t entirely get what you mean.

Toolshed is an avid drawer. She’ll doodle during meetings to try and focus, too, but only when she REALLY needs to.

Toolshed has a younger brother, this au’s version of Fastpass, who is a mix of Shelly’s role in the series as Stan’s sibling and Jimmy’s powers. 

^Adding onto this, Toolshed and Fastpass, in this au, openly admit that they’re polar opposites, but also admit they get along great for siblings. Toolshed’s calm and collective-ness and Fastpass’s hyperactive and bubbly demeanor compliment each other pretty well. Plus, they’re both able to help the other in better ways, Toolshed calming Fastpass down so his emotion-affected powers don’t go too far, and Fastpass cheering Toolshed up after a long ass day.

[bdoubleowo]

Normally I don't. enjoy assigning sexuality/gender identities onto c!mcyt even when shipping (like. Scott's gay irl so calling c!Scott gay is fine, but with c!Jimmy I feel weird saying he's gay or bi or whatever. Just. unlabeled attraction to men, and sometimes women. idk man)

However.

I feel like Mumbo Jumbo is in a constant state of gender crisis. just. I think Mumbo would get too into the weeds and come out of his gender exploration tangled in wires

Person: What are your pronouns? Mumbo: What even are pronouns? How do you decide? How do you choose a neopronoun if you want one? How do I know if the pronoun I already have actually is for me instead of just being how I was raised? Person: Grian what do I call Mumbo. Grian: He goes by he/him mostly. Mumbo, still going: I. Think I’m a man? But what really is a man? What if I think I’m a man just because that’s what I’ve always been! And if I try wearing feminine clothing and like it, that doesn’t mean I’m necessarily a woman, it just means I like wearing those clothes. But even if I figure that out, pronouns are indicative of gender identity but not exclusive, so I could still use pronouns different from my gender identity! Grian: I think you’re overthinking it

Mumbo makes a redstone device to tell him his gender identity but it keeps outputting “lettuce” and he can’t fix it. It works fine for everyone else and he has no clue what "lettuce" is supposed to mean so it has to be broken but he can't figure out what's wrong with it.

[estrel]

for #spnprideweek day 1: coming out + flags

↳ summary: cas tells sam a secret that he hasn’t (really) told anybody else. surprisingly, sam has one too.  PRIDE series | gen, sam & cas | word count: 1.7k

[READ ON AO3]

Sam’s grimacing a little at the grease from the fries on Cas’ plate. Cas would usually make a comment, here, about Sam keeping his eyes on his own paper, or that it isn’t nearly as bad as the veggie burger sitting on his plate at Sam’s behest. This is the recompense, Cas wants to say, but his mouth is dry and no words are coming out even if he wants them to.

Accompanying the inability to speak is the twisting feeling in his gut that won’t even allow him to pick up the burger. The smell is too much, too, and Cas hates to admit it but it’s probably the grease, so he sits back a little against the peeling seat of the booth to calm his nerves.

It’s just Sam. He can do this. It’s only that this is the first time he’s telling anyone, and that definitely ups the stakes a little.

Well, that’s somewhat of a lie. Cas had told the nice woman at the grocery store check out last week when he’d seen her little pin on her work uniform and asked where he could get one. 

He hadn’t actually bought one, of course, but Cas eyed the small bin full of brightly colored pins on the way out, convincing himself it was stupid to get back in line again for something so small and inexpensive. Still, he’d thought about it on the drive back to the Bunker, and that night in his bed, and the full week following, up until now. 

Now, Sam was looking at him with concern, and wiping his mouth in that way that means he’s about to get serious.

“Is everything alright?” he asks, pointedly looking down at Cas’ loaded plate. He’d barely taken a bite, except for a few nibbles of his admittedly greasy fries. And it was weird because since becoming human, Cas' appetite had grown considerably, much to Dean's delight.

And—Dean. That's what this was all about, wasn't it? Sure, it was more than just Dean, it was all the humans that had made Cas' body ache like it hadn't before, had made him think of what it means to be in this vessel—his body—and be attracted to other...humans.

It was odd. In hindsight, things in Heaven had been so much easier in this regard. Cas had spent most of his life clueless to the capabilities of human attraction, and then he met Dean and it all came crashing down around him. Only then, Cas was ignoring it. He was facing the other way, because though he felt human, he wasn't. Not really.

But everything is different now.

Cas clears his throat.

"Well," he starts, "no. I am feeling what I believe you’d call...anxiety. My stomach hurts, I find I'm unable to eat, a-and my hands are—"

"Cas," Sam interrupts. Shaking. Cas' hands are shaking.

Sam's fully set his fork and knife down now, hands clasped together on the edge of the table. "Talk to me."

Cas licks his dry lips.

"It’s not...it isn’t a big deal, really,” and yet Cas can feel his heart hammering in his chest. He sucks in a breath. “But I’m, uh. I wanted to tell you that...I like men.”

Sam’s expression doesn’t change, but he blinks at Cas once from across the table.

“Okay.”

Cas raises an eyebrow, pulse slowing down a little with his next exhale. “Okay?”

Maybe it was that simple, and Cas was worrying over nothing. It’s just...this feels like it should be bigger. Earth-shattering. Like Sam should either hug him or tell him he never wants to speak to Cas again.

Instead, he just shrugs, picks up his fork and pushes bits of his salad around his plate.

But then Cas’ gaze moves to Sam’s face and...Sam’s frowning. Cas feels his heart thumping hard again, waiting for the ball to drop. It feels a little like when Dean sat him down to “talk,” right after he lost his powers, and, well. Cas knew how that had ended. He braces himself for the worst, schools his features to something more neutral.

“I’m,” Sam clears his throat, “I’m sorry you got nervous over all of that. I-I get that coming out is...” he laughs, “usually a bigger deal, but. You don’t have to worry with me, you know? I get it.”

That makes Cas pause. “You...do?”

Now Sam’s looking at him, eyes a little wide, but he works his jaw and gets the words out. “Yeah. Uh... well I guess now’s a good a time as any to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

The fork is set back down again. The bell over the diner door jingles. 

“In college...you know about Jess,” Sam says, jogging Cas’ memory. He knows, so he nods and Sam continues, “Well we uh. We actually met in a Gender Studies class. I thought, ‘pff, easy A,’ but it was actually way more complex than I originally thought, so she kind of...tutored me.” Cas raises an eyebrow, and Sam rolls his eyes.

“Actually tutored me. Whatever. Point is, I learned a lot—‘cause she was a great teacher—and...not just about the class, but about myself, too.” 

Cas nods slowly, beginning to catch Sam’s drift. “Okay...”

Despite his tone, Sam’s posture stiffens a little, like he’s uncomfortable, or not really used to this type of conversation. Cas does his best to relax into his seat to ease him, unfolding his arms.

“What I’m saying is,” Sam shrugs, “I’m...not...cis. Like, I don’t....I’m not um, a guy, I guess. Well, sort of. I’m non-binary.”

Cas is silent for a second, mulling it over in his head. Eventually it becomes long enough for Sam to say, “Uh...you know what? You can forget it, man—”

“No!” Cas says, almost knocking over his plate in the process. The silverware clatters as it falls onto the table, and Sam flinches a little. “I was just thinking...I want to apologize if anything I’ve said about your gender has ever made you uncomfortable, or if you—”

Sam’s out-facing palm makes Cas stutter to a stop. There’s a weird guilt settling in the pit of his stomach, and the anxiety that he’d thought was gone is back full force again. Cas tears off a piece of his napkin.

“Cas, dude. Calm down,” Sam laughs. He takes a deep breath, and Cas follows his lead. They breathe in and out together for a beat, and when Cas feels fairly calmer, Sam pushes both of their plates aside.

“There’s no need to apologize for something you couldn’t have known about,” he starts, shaking his head a little, “and you haven’t done anything wrong, either. I still use he and him pronouns, and sometimes they and them. And besides, it’s not like I go around telling people. Especially with, uh, the way I was raised...I’ve been hesitant, you know? It was great in college, people were really supportive when I told them. But then when I started hunting again...I don’t know. 

“My dad...uh. I tried telling him, once. Didn’t go too well, so I didn’t try it again. I think that’s why Dean...” he shakes his head, frowning down at the table again. “It wasn’t easy, growing up the way we did. You could probably understand that.”

Cas nods. Under the table, his napkin is shredded into bits. 

“I do. I think, in a way, I also understand being trans.” Sam jerks their head up, intrigued. 

“Angels...we don’t experience gender the same way humans do. In fact, the concept is entirely nonexistent in Heaven. So, when we take vessels...”

“You’re essentially defining yourself,” Sam says in awe. It makes Cas smile to see them back in their element, leaning forward a little to listen better. “I never thought about it that way, not really.”

Cas shrugs. “I’m not sure all of my siblings did, either. Many chose according to which vessel would best suit them and their form. That was definitely a factor in me choosing Jimmy, but I also found the thought of looking like a human man...greatly appealing.”

Sam’s nodding now, gaze darting to different parts of the table. Cas knows that means they’re mentally crafting an essay right about now, or thinking of what books in the Bunker might further help in their research about it.

“Wow,” he says, “that’s—I mean. Wow, Cas. Thanks for telling me that. And uh, the other thing.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence between them now, and Cas takes it as an opportunity to sip from his slightly-melted iced tea. 

“So,” Sam starts again slowly, “have you told Dean?”

Cas sucks in another deep breath, and Sam nods. “Yeah,” he says, “me neither.”

It surprises Cas a little that Sam hasn’t told him, and he expresses that with an inquiring eyebrow. 

Sam purses his lips and dodges the unspoken question. “Dean’s not a bad guy. You probably know that better than anyone except me. You know he’d still love you if you told him.”

Cas’ heart pounds at the mention of the word. When Sam notices, he feels his ears begin to heat with a blush. 

“Oh,” Sam smiles, “that. I figured. For a while now, but I didn’t wanna say anything.”

Cas tries to will away the heat on his face. He doesn’t say anything, so Sam leaves it be.

The waitress gives them a worried look when she brings the check, eyeing their barely touched plates. They both smile apologetically, insisting that their food was “great” when she whisks it away.

On their way back home, Cas asks if Sam can stop at the store. They don’t ask anything more than, “we need groceries that bad?” and Cas dips inside. He knows this is just like any other grocery run—going in and out as quick as possible with the things they need—yet his heart hammers all the same when he stops in front of the bin near the door. The same employee from last week is working on lane six, and he’s sure to check out at that one with his goods. She gives him a knowing smile.

Cas flops into the passenger seat, a little out of breath.

“That was fast,” Sam starts to say, before noticing Cas’ lack of grocery bags. “Dude. What d’you buy, air?”

Instead, Cas brandishes two brightly colored pins. Sam tentatively takes the yellow, white, purple, and black one, eyes wide.

“For me?” they ask.

Cas smiles, running his thumb over the rainbow one in his hand. 

“For both of us,” he says.

[@spnprideweek]

[killerpenguinn]

would you mind talking about who your oc, Alicia is? ☺️☺️☺️

A very well dressed women is eying you from across the club. She’s been staring at you all night, and her dark eyes beckon you to come over to her and say hello. A little intimidated by her very expensive looking clothes and pristine makeup and hair, you hesitate and suddenly the woman is strutting over to you with a walk so confident, people seem to move out of the way subconsciously, not even realizing what they are doing. Still gobsmacked from watching her move, suddenly the woman is standing in front of you, and she looks to be in her early to mid 20s, now that she’s this close to you. You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry. Why were you still intimidated?! She’s right here! Say something!

You open your mouth to finally speak, but the woman cuts you off, offering her well manicured hand to you to shake or kiss, maybe both, as she speaks, her voice smooth like red velvet as she says, “My name is Alicia Scott, but you can call me Ali. Can I buy you a drink? Or are you getting this round for us?”

Meet my murder OC, Alicia Scott! She’s 26 and the Heiress to the Scott Foundation that her Uncle Jim owns and manages (another murder OC). Born in Atlanta, GA, Ali grew up with some ‘very not so loving and not always there emotionally and physically’, parents. While her father, John “Johnny” Scott, was a very very successful Stock Broker, he wasn’t the most caring dad in the world, and her mother, Jessica Langley Scott, while a very successful tv actress, dreamed of bigger roles and was too obsessed with her dreams to really pay Ali much mind.

Left to her own devices, Ali acted out to get attention, and when that stopped working, she manipulated people into being her friends, and used her groupies to crush anyone who opposed her. But you catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar, as her daddy always said, so Ali was as sweet as a pound cake! Who cares if she hurt and killed small animals for fun and dissected them to see how accurate the internal organs were to her science books? Or how she obsessively watched doctor dramas, trying to find one that balanced the love and drama with the accurate surgery bits? That’s normal teenage stuff, right?

Right after Ali turned 18, her father John shot himself, leaving his entire fortune to his only child and Daughter, Alicia. Jessica immediately convinced her daughter to move them out of Atlanta and out west to Los Angeles, California, where her mother immediately got picked up for bigger roles in both TV and Movies. Now more alone than ever after her fathers death, Alicia was “saved” by her Uncle Jimmy, who was in the top 10% of the wealthiest men in America, and who had no children of his own, but needed an heir to his empire, as he wasn’t getting any younger.

Happy that she didn’t have to take care of her daughter anymore, Jessica happily let her daughter follow after her Uncle Jim, and with that Alicia began her true calling as an heiress, a lovely lady in the spotlight that she so desperately craved, and as an adult suddenly gaining the “stable” and loving father figure she had wanted all of her life!

Not very mentally stable himself, Jim taught Ali how to box/kickboxing, took her on camping trips in the wilderness of Canada, taught her how to defend her self, how to use a gun, knives, and tasers, how to keep up a good image, and most importantly, how to lie and kill and get away with it “Scott free” as Jim jokingly put it.

Ali, now an adult, comes across some lovely grunge tapes made by a German man with a pleasant voice. Finally realizing that she can put her skills her Uncle Jimmy taught her to good use AND live out her fantasies of killing people for an audience that will forever adore her, Alley_Kat69 was born.

Capturing victims (usually people who’s pronouns are she/her and are biologically women), Ali sexually and physically abuses her victims live on camera for her adoring fans who pay her well to torture her victims the way they (and herself) want. Does Alicia know what she’s doing is wrong? Of course she does! Does she care? Fuck no.

Who knows, maybe she will even keep you as a pet/companion if she’s lonely enough! :)

Ali is an example (to me) of how women can be just as dangerous as men. With the rise of social media, twitch streamers, and influencers, I wanted to make a terrifying case of a woman who has the money, means, power, and smarts to capture you, her victim, and you probably won’t even know you are done for until you wake up in her basement!

Ali goes for victims who are shy, easily flattered, female (lesbian porn is fetishized after all), and usually easy to fool. Ali will even PAY men to drug your drink and harass you, so she can swoop in and “save” you from them, and she’ll even call you a “cab” so you get home safely!

Note that Ali can and does one night stands! If you are just as confident as her she’s happy to bring you home and sleep with you! Just don’t go snooping around too much the next morning or you might become her victim instead of a really good night! ;)

You could even become friends with her and never know about her double life as a horror porn star. Or maybe you do know about it and don’t care, like Ali does?

[softtransbf]

Fresh Blood, Old Scars Part 1

You'd disappeared 15 years ago without a trace- what's Yancy supposed to do when you walk into Happy Trails Penitentiary and don't recognize him, because he's transitioned? canon compliant trans!yancy/reader

Reader: he/him trans man, no physical description

Rating: T

Warnings: mentions of violence, canonical and parental. deadnaming and misgendering before either of you came out (none by anyone who knows the correct name/pronouns)

Word Count: 2,690

“Hey Yancy, I heard there’s fresh blood comin’ in today for some sorta museum heist.”

“Oh? Know anything else about these guys, so we can give ‘em a proper welcome, Bambam?”

“I know some. The first guy, Mark Iplier, claimed to have been in charge of the whole thing, but from what my sources said, it’s the partner that ran the show- just real quiet-like. I’ve been told that he don’t say a word.”

“Got a name for this, uh, silent partner?” He chuckled at his joke.

“Y/N L/N.” Yancy’s stomach dropped the way it always did when he heard that last name, your last name. Get your shit together. Wrong first name, and Bambam said he and his. Bambam don’t use pronouns other than they/them unless they’re sure. It’s just some guy with the same last name.

“Yance, you okay?” Tiny waved his hand in front of Yancy’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, just, uh, thinkin about how best to greet dese guys. The usual, wit Don’t Wanna Be Free ready just in case?”

“Right off the bat? You really think they’re that high of a flight risk?” Sparkles finally spoke up.

“I, uh, I don’t trust dem silent-types. They’s always schemin’, got somethin goin ahn in their heads.” And if he's anything like- yeah. Gone before you know it.

“Okay, if you say so. I’ll go let the others know.” Yancy didn’t even register who was speaking; he was too lost in memories.

- 15 years earlier-

Yancy knew it wasn’t cool to be excited for the first day of school when you’re a senior in high school, but he didn’t care. He didn’t need or even want to be cool- all he needed was to be your friend. Well, maybe not just friend. You’d been gone for almost the entire summer, and he’d spent the whole time figuring out how to both ask you out and tell you that he’s a guy.

He practically skipped across the street to your house so you can walk to school together, like you had every day since middle school. He knocked- nothing. Rang the doorbell- still nothing. He checked the back door and the spots where you had hidden spare keys over the years- nothing. All the curtains were drawn, too, so he couldn’t see inside. He kept trying as long as he possibly could before he had to sprint to make it to class just barely in time. All day, he kept an eye on the door, waiting for you- the two of you made sure to sign up for the exact same schedule before you went on your vacation. At lunch, he went to the office to see what he could find out.

“Y/DN isn’t a student here anymore- Mr L/N just told us last week.”

“What? Do you know where they went?”

“I’m sorry, hon, I don’t. All I know is that Y/DN is no longer a student here.”

He’d never ditched a class in his life, but that was the last thing on his mind as he ran home, crying. He didn’t stop crying for weeks.

-Present -

He’d never wanted to be wrong more in his life, but there you were. Looking better than he’d ever dreamed, following Mark around silently as he blabbered on about wanting to rally the other inmates to try to break out. No. I lost you once, and it cost me everything. I’m not about to lose you again. He quickly spread the word to skip pleasantries with the new guys and prepare for the song. As he was, you made eye contact with him from across the room. His heart dropped; you didn’t recognize him. You looked right through him, with the same calculating expression you gave everyone else. Of course he wasn’t gonna recognize you, dumbass. You’ve been on hormones for years and have had top surgery. Usually Yancy loved that he couldn’t see anything of the person he used to be in the mirror, but today he hated it more than anything in the world. Stick to the plan, Yance. He doesn’t recognize me, but it might be better this way. This way, I can get him to stay and get to know me as I am now, and he won’t be disappointed that I haven’t become anything like what we dreamed of so long ago.

Yancy couldn’t have planned it better, Mark practically begging Jimmy to punch him through the wall right before the show started, leaving you alone.

The number went great, as always, but then you showed him a picture of your parents. He knew that picture; you took it when the four of you went on a vacation together before you started your freshman year of high school. He also knew that he had once been in the picture, but you’d cut him out. The tape and staples that had been holding his heart together since you left fell away.

He stuck with his usual response to people citing family for wanting to leave, for the most part. No one at Happy Trails knew about you, and he’d killed his parents before they could leave him, so he’d kept his true abandonment issues to himself. Face to face with you after all these years, though, he couldn’t stop himself from adding “they’re always just gonna leave you behind” and a warning about trifling with the past. You flinched a little at both of those, and a spark of hope ignited in his chest- maybe you hadn’t forgotten about him, even if you didn’t recognize him now.

Then you still chose to leave. The rest of the rather single-sided conversation was a blur to him. Later, as he was tending to his injuries in solitary, he remembered calling you handsome and/or beautiful and your blush when he did. And, of course, you knocking him flat on his ass. He’d challenged you to a fight, because he’d always been able to beat you before. The part that truly left him confused, though, was why he offered to help you break out.

All he’d wanted for the last fifteen years was to go back to the day you left and beg you to stay. He’d told himself dozens, maybe hundreds, of times that if he ever saw you again, he’d do everything in his power to keep you with him. On his darker and angrier days, he truly meant everything. But here you are, and he offered to help you leave. This is what you get for even hoping someone might stick around. Let’s just do this. I gotta stop in with the warden first, though…

“Me? Out there? With you?” He chuckled. You had no idea that, with that simple gesture, you offered him everything he’d wanted for so long. Fuck, I don’t deserve him. I still love him, but he deserves someone better than the angry, selfish man I am. The fragments of his heart splintered even more. “I, um. I done a lotta bad things. And, uh.” He made himself brighten up. “This is home! For now, anyway. Maybe next time parole comes up, I’ll, uh” take it and go find you like I should have fifteen years ago. And I’ll spend every minute until then trying to become the kind of man you deserve. “Anyway, I gotta get back to it. You take care now, you hear? And, hey, visitation! Every third Sunday!” You looked down at the box you’d brought with you, and he ran. When he got back to his cell, he cried genuine tears for the first time since that August day when his world turned upside down.

- 2 weeks later, visitation day -

He knew hoping you’d come was a waste of time, and that he was just setting himself up for more pain. He’d learned the hard way that when you were gone, that was that. But still, there he was, looking up every time a guard walked into the room. As expected, they never called his name. The rest of the inmates gave him a wide berth as he went back to his cell for the night, and they were right to. He was itching for an excuse to fight. No one gave him one, though, so he told himself he’d find one tomorrow and got ready for bed.

When he got to his cell, it took him just one second to realize there was someone on his bed, pull them off, and shove them against the wall. It took him three more to process that it was you, and then another five to step back and let you go.

“Sorry for scaring you, Yancy. I didn’t mean to. It’s just… it’s visitation day, but I’m still wanted for the escape you helped me pull off, and I haven’t decided if I want to come back for good or not.” He stood there, frozen. You chuckled nervously. “I get it, your turn to be the quiet one. I’m sorry about that, by the way. There was a lot to process all at once, and I just kinda shut down when I get overwhelmed.”

I know. I remember that you didn’t say a single word our first day of high school, Yancy wanted to say. He wanted to say something, anything, but you being there and so close was just too much.

“Okay, so, honesty time; there’s a specific reason I came back.” You took a deep breath. “I haven’t been able to shake this feeling that I know you, somehow. But I know I’d remember meeting you- no way I’d forget someone like you. Anyway, I'm probably way off base and ridiculous. I guess I just wanted to tell you?” You ran your hand through your hair. “God, that sounds even flimsier than it felt in my head. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It, uh. It means a lot that you came back to say that.”

“Uh, Yancy? What happened to your accent?”

“Shit. Um. C’mere.” He muttered, as he sat down on his bed and pulled you down next to him. He prayed that you couldn’t hear how his heart started racing when he noticed your knees were touching. “No one here knows that the accent isn’t how I always speak. Not even the warden. I’ve been here five years and haven’t dropped it once. Anyone learns about this, and you’re dead, understand?” He knew that the threat was empty, but you seemed to believe it.

“Yeah, yeah, I do, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me. I gotta ask, though- why fake it? It seems like a lot of effort. You don’t owe me an explanation, of course, but since you’re heart-on-your-sleeve about your parents, it must be one hell of a reason. I bet it’d feel good to let it off your chest. I can promise to leave and never come back if you do- a burden shared is a burden halved, and if I’m gone, you can be 100% sure no one here will know.”

He took a deep breath. “Something flipped my world on its head, and I needed to distance myself from who I was before. That’s an odd phrase, though- ‘a burden shared is a burden halved’. Where’d you pick that up?”

“Oh, um. The mom of someone I loved a long time ago used to say it a lot. It just kinda stuck, I guess.”

“Loved, huh? You break their heart, or did they break yours?” Yancy was surprised he got the words out without his voice shaking or cracking. You were silent for a long time, and Yancy was sure he’d pushed too hard and you would completely shut down or, worse, leave altogether.

“Sorry, I haven’t talked about this… ever." Your voice shook. "I’ve never talked to anyone about this. I don’t know if I was loved back, but if so, I was the heartbreaker. I didn’t mean to be- I couldn’t control having to leave, and I didn’t know I wasn’t coming back until it was too late. I couldn’t say goodbye. I’ve hoped every day for the last fifteen years that my feelings were unrequited, though. I’m happy to have the pain of an unrequited first love if it means she wasn’t heartbroken.” The incorrect pronoun stung a bit, but you didn’t know, and you’d loved him back all those years ago. He was invincible.

“Have you tried reaching out? Even if your feelings were one-sided, I think you owe it to both of you to say them, at least once.” He reached out and took your hands without thinking. You didn't stop him, and he felt like he could fly.

“I tried, actually. About eight years ago, I'd, uh, escaped and was finally an actual person again after everything that was done to and taken from me, so I started looking for her. But it’s like she vanished off the face of the earth five years to the day after we were separated. It’s actually how I met Mark- I got into some deep and shady shit looking. I only gave up last year. Nothing turned up in seven years of searching, so I have to figure that she did something incredibly stupid a decade ago and got herself killed.”

“I didn’t die. Just the name did.” Yancy breathed. A half second later, he realized he’d said it out loud, and his heart stopped. You took your hands out of his and scooted away.

“Yancy. Are you trying to tell me that you’re- that we- oh my god. It is you. I knew I knew you. Everything else is different, but I should have recognized your eyes. I guess some part of me did. But you- I- I thought you were dead.”

“As you can see, I’m not dead, Brain. And for the record, your feelings were definitely not one-sided.” He reached out and cupped your cheek with one hand.

“Shit, Pinky, it really is you.”

Yancy had dreamed about how seeing you again would go in a million different ways. Not a single one of those included you practically jumping into his lap and kissing him with a lifetime's worth of love and want.

He let out an undignified whine when you broke the kiss. “Wait, wait. You knew from the second I walked in here who I was, didn’t you? You tried so hard to stop me from leaving… but then you helped me do just that. You chose to stay here when I asked you to come with me. Then I came back, and you got me to say all those things… And we’re both trans and wound up here? This is all just. So much. I can’t- I can’t do this.” You got off his lap and scooted to the far end of the bed.

“What are you saying, Y/N? That you’re leaving? Again?” He couldn’t keep the bitterness out of his voice.

You stood up and faced him. “You do not get to play that card. You don’t know how much I went through trying to find a way to tell you I was sorry, that I didn’t know that the trip was a permanent one until we were on the other side of the country. Dad said that I'd never see mom again, and he’d kill me if I tried to get in touch with you or anyone else from back home. He broke my arm to prove he meant it. I can’t stay here to unpack all of this. I have to go. But you can come with me. I mean it even more now than I did last time. I’m not leaving you, I’m leaving here.”

You walked to the cell door and looked back at him with a sigh. “But I know you, and you have a family here. I’ll get you my address- it’s your turn to come to me, when you’re ready. I’ve waited 15 years to be with you again, what’s a little bit longer?” Without giving him a chance to respond, you kissed him again and were gone.

[itsnowsnz]

The Donny Nova Band baking

I had this idea while baking cookies so enjoy

I choose creps because that’s the only thing I can do alone because I can’t cook for sh*t 

This post also has some JimmyxDonny and WaynexNick (JohnnyxDavy if you squint)

so

Julia was gone 1 hour to teach the kids choir at the church (even after Nick’s warning)

So Donny proposed to the boys to bake something at his place 

They all looked at him like “is he serious??” and were going to decline 

When Donny added that it was to surprise Julia 

They immediatly accepted 

Donny remembered  Michael saying that Julia LOVES creps but Michael could never surprise Julia with  crepes because he couldn’t be trusted around the kitchen 

And actually, neither Donny could be trusted around the kitchen

This guy can only make pasta without burning the kitchen down

But he figured Wayne and Jimmy are good around the kitchen 

After he took the eggs and milk in the fridge, he tried to take the flour

THAT WAS ON THE TOP SHELF 

Donny was sure it was Jimmy who put in there when they cleaned the house 

After 3 minutes of struggle (and cursing his boyf’s name), he finally reached the flour 

That was open 

Flour flied everywhere in the kitchen 

Including on his hair 

And of course, that’s when the band decided to come 

He cursed every god’s name he knows while opening the door 

The band laughed at him to a point Nick was rolling on the floor, tears in his eyes 

Jimmy tried to be a supportive boyfriend™ and tried to not laugh at Donny but seeing him, with a glare and his hair covered  with flour was too much so he started laughing too 

Donny tried to glare at Jimmy but he became too soft for this boi that he couldn’t be mad 

So he just ruffled his hair so the others can have flour on them too

It worked 

So Nick chased Donny while the rest of the band just walked to the kitchen, still laughing 

After Wayne swept away the flour from the kitchen because “WE CAN’T COOK IN A DIRTY KITCHEN,DONNY !”, they finally started 

Nick was supposed to put the flour in a measuring cup 

But he had to make a remark about Donny and his hair

So Donny grabbed an egg and smashed it on Nick’s head 

SO Nick threw the measuring cup’s content on Donny 

Before it goes further, Johnny took the cup,did it himself while Donny and Nick were scolded by their boyfriends “Can you stop being at each others’ throats for TWO seconds ?” “Well, it was Nick who started-” “Shut up Donny, I love you but shut up” “Yeah, shut up Novitski” “It applies for you too, Nick, shut up”

After the flour was on the bowl, it was time to add the eggs 

Davy was supposed to do it 

Even he promised the guys that he can do it and can hold the alcohol well, he craked the eggs on the sink, thinking it was the bowl “HOW COULD YOU THINK THE SINK WAS THE BOWL ?!” “Nick, do I need to remind you this time where you threw up on my shoes thinking it was the toilet” “It’s not my fault your shoes are ugly, Jimmy” “He’s not wrong” “Donny, go wash your hair then you can criticize” “Thanks Wayne”

While they talked, Johnny took new eggs and craked them on the bowl while Davy was drunkely babbling to him and Johnny nodded at him, like what Davy was saying was coherent 

The two couples didn’t notice that, too busy arguing

It was finally the last ingredient, the milk 

It was Johnny’s turn to put milk on the bowl while Jimmy was mixing

They did it calmly while Davy was sitting on the counter, watching them

Of course, Nick and Donny were still arguing and Wayne was just looking at the disaster, done with dealing with children, Grady and Emily weren’t THAT exhausting

Davy wanted to add rhum but Wayne stopped him, knowing that with Davy, there would be more rhum than crepe mixture 

Now that the mix was done, they needed to clean the kitchen up while the mixture rested (Jimmy and Wayne wished they could be this mixture so they don’t have to deal with over grown children that they love too much to even think about leaving them)

BUT Davy and Johnny thought that it would be a good idea to start a fight food

Of course, Donny and Nick immediatly joined while Jimmy and Wayne were still cleaning up 

They both wanted to join in but had a unsaid competition : Which one of the two will go into the fight first ?

Surprinsgly, Wayne lost 

But, it was Johnny’s fault if you ask him

Johnny threw an egg on him, trying to aim at Donny 

Of course, he immediatly turned around, asking who did that while Jimmy was craking up, next to him

Wayne heard Jimmy 

“You found that funny ?” “Of course not, why would you think tha-”

Wayne threw him flour on the face 

So basically, they both joinded but Wayne did first 

When Julia came to Donny’s house for practice, she opened the door and she hears laughing, screaming, and eggs craking ? 

She came to the kitchen and she saw a mess

The boys were throwing at each others, eggs, milk and flour 

She saw on the counter a bowl, what she assumed by the ingredients, with crepe mixture in it 

Then she looked at the boys,with soft eyes, so happy to see them smiling

I mean, she can see them while practicing but she had to be focused so she  can’t really enjoy 

Johnny noticed her “Oh hey, Julia!”

The others boys stopped in their tracks to look at her 

She burst out laughing at their faces and their states, priceless

“Go clean up yourselves up ! I’ll do the crepes”

So they did 

They ate in the living room, Donny and Jimmy curled up on the loveseat, Johnny sitting on a beanbag chair, Nick and Wayne were sitting close on the couch, Julia sitting on the couch, next to them, Davy was seated on the couch’s armchair 

They explained to Julia their former objetive and how they got in this situation

She hugged each of them, thanking them

But she also begged them to never go near her kitchen, which made them chuckle and agreed

Do I need to mention that I spent the entire evening writing it but had so much fun?

I had so many others ideas so that won’t be the last post like that 

Also I thank @somethingtobeholden because they made me think about Bandstand (they know why xD) I use “they” cuz I don’t know your pronouns

[andhumanslovedstories]

Recent country songs that have made me literally gay gasp as a gay woman, in order of how much they make me want to write an essay on gender and queerness

HONORARY MENTION BUT JUST BECAUSE I THINK THIS IS TECHNICALLY AMERICANA NOT COUNTRY (but genre is fake) AND THIS SONG ISN’T RECENT (2014 and I’ve been listening to it faithfully since then) BUT I ONLY RECENTLY LEARNED IT’S A COVER AND THAT’S MADE ME RECONTEXTUALIZE IT: “Murder in the City” by Brandi Carlile, a cover of The Avett Brothers where she changed the words “make sure my sister knows I loved her/make sure my mother knows the same” to “make sure my wife knows that I love her/make sure my daughter knows the same” which fucking. fucking gets me. Especially since the first time that I heard this song, I assumed it was from a man’s point of view because of that line, and then I learned that Brandi Carlile is a lesbian and I was caught up in my foolish heteronormitivity, and then I learned it was a cover and thought oh okay I guess the song is originally from a man’s pov and it’s cool she covered, and then I learned she changed those lines to make a song that already feels deeply personal to her to explicitly include her love for a woman and the family they’ve made together. And that’s just. It’s all just a lot. 

3) “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” by Miranda Lambert featuring Maren Morris, Elle King, Ashley McBryde, Tenille Townes and Caylee Hammack, because the first time it came up on my spotify, I saw the title and was like “hey dope I like this song” and then I heard the first line was still “I must have been through about a million girls” and I realized none of the words or pronouns were getting changed and I was getting the song I’ve always wanted and deserved: a high production value, high energy, big girl group tribute to being a lesbian fuckboy who Fooled Around And, oops can you believe it, Fell in Love. 

2) “If She Ever Leaves Me” by The Highwomen, sung by Brandi Carlile who is, as mentioned, lesbian, but since I’m apparently still chugging my comp het juice, I was still trying to figure out if this song--a classic “hey buddy keep walking, she’s my girl and she’s not interested” song with an interesting element of the singer being aware the relationship might not last anyway--was gonna be explicitly queer. And then there’s the line, “That's too much cologne, she likes perfume,” and I was like OH HOHOHOHOHOHOHO!!! 

This is immediately followed by the lines “I’ve loved her in secret/I’ve loved her out loud” which is also deliciously queer in this context, with this singer and that juxtaposition, but the line that really fucking got me is my favorite of the song: “If she ever leaves, it's gonna be for a woman with more time.” This is two women in a complicated relationship. This isn’t just a “keep walking, cowboy” song, it’s a song that uses that framework to suggest a whole ass “Finishing the Hat”** relationship, and that’s so interesting to me. Like a song that isn’t just explicitly about two women in love but one that conveys very quickly a rich history between the two of them. And in a genre where the line “Kiss lots of boys, kiss lots of girls if that’s something you’re into” was revolutionary representation.

(Fun fact, “Follow Your Arrow” was partially written by Brandy Clarke, another country lesbian! Another fun fact, so is basically every other good country song. Brandy Clark, please write a big lesbian country anthem, I know it will immediately kill me on impact.) 

To quote one youtube comment, “”lesbians how we feeling??” and to answer by quoting some others, “As a closeted baby gay in the 90s, who was into country, this song would have changed my life”, “I just teared up.  So many happy tears, as a gay woman raised on country music,  this is something that's definitely been needed.  Thank you Brandi. Thank you highwomen”, “This song means more than I can say in a youtube comment”, and “Lesbians needed this song :)”

It’s me. I’m lesbians. 

**ANOTHER HONORARY MENTION EXCEPT IT ISN’T RECENT AND IT ISN’T COUNTRY SO I GUESS THIS IS JUST A MENTION, BUT I AM INTERESTED IN THIS SONG--“Finishing the Hat” by Kelli O’Hara. A very good Sondheim joint, that’s about making art, the costs of its obsessive and exclusive nature and the incomparable pleasure of putting something into the world that wasn’t there before. It’s such a traditionally male narrative that I’m thrilled to find a wonderful female cover of it. I’m not even fussed about her changing the gender from the lover who won’t wait for the artist (except that the shift from “woman” to “one man” sounds so clunky) because there’s value turning this song into a lament of the men who won’t love artistic women. But I do also wish she’d also recorded a version that kept the original gender so it would be gay. OKAY BROADWAY TANGENT OVER, BACK TO COUNTRY. 

1) “Highwomen” by The Highwomen, ft. Yola and Sheryl Crow. I can’t even express the full body chills the first time I heard this. Like repeated, multiple chills renewed at every verse of the song. This really closely parallels my experience with “Fooled Around and Fell in Love” up there, because when I started it I was like “oh dope I know what this cover will be” and then the lyrics started and I was like “OH MY GOD I DIDN’T.” In the case of “Fooled Around” it’s because I was amazed that they kept the original words. In the case of “Highwomen” I fucking transcended because they changed them. 

So I grew up on Johnny Cash, obsessed with a couple of his albums but largely with a CD I had of his greatest hits. (Ask me how many times I listened to the shoeshine boy song. Hundreds. Johnny Cash told me to get rhythm and I got it.) And my FAVORITE was “Highwayman” from the country supergroup he was in, The Highwaymen. The concept of the song is that each of the four men sing a verse about a man from the past and how he died. It’s very good. The line “They buried me in that grey tomb that knows no sound” used to scare the shit out of me. I didn’t expect to have a song that targets so specifically my fear of being buried alive in wet concrete. 

(If you haven’t heard the song, by the way, listen to this version to properly appreciate it as a piece of music. If you have, watch the fucking music video holy shit this is a work of art oh my GOD.) 

So I was predisposed to love this cover before I even heard it. But then I heard it. And they rewrote the song to be about historical women. And it’s like. There’s layers here okay. 

Neither the Highwaymen nor the Highwomen are signing about famous people. This isn’t a Great Man tour of history, it’s about dam builders and sailors and preachers and mothers and Freedom Riders and also Johnny Cash who flies a starship across the universe, as you do. 

In the 1986 version, it’s a song about the continuity of life--the repeated idea is “I am still alive, I’m still here, I come back again and again in different forms.” The highwayman is all the men in the song. He reincarnates. The song is past, present, future. The title is singular, masculine. The same soul, expressed through multiple voices, multiple lives. 

In the 2019 version, the title is plural, feminine. Highwomen. This song is about women. Each verse asserts the same motif as the 1986 version--“I may not have survived but I am still alive”--but there is no implication of reincarnation. Each woman is her own woman. This version has a final verse that the previous versions lacks. The singers harmonize. It’s not a song where one voice replaces  another, the story of this One Man progressing through time. It ends in a chorus of women saying “We are still alive.” 

We are The Highwomen Singing stories still untold We carry the sons you can only hold We are the daughters of the silent generations You sent our hearts to die alone in foreign nations They may return to us as tiny drops of rain But we will still remain

And we'll come back again and again and again And again and again We'll come back again and again and again And again and again 

Another fun fact! The first time I heard them sing “We are the daughters of the silent generations” I died! But luckily I came back again and again and again.  

This is a song about the continuity of history. It asserts that women’s historical lives matter and that they continue to matter, long after they died. This is a song about legacy as well, the legacy of nameless women who worked to protect the ones they loved and make the world better. They don’t die by chance. They are all hunted down by political violence, by racism, by misogyny, for stepping outside their prescribed roles. But, as Yola (who btw fucking CRUSHES THE VOCALS ARE YOU KIDDING ME?????? HOLY SHIT MA’AM) sings as a murdered Freedom Rider, she’d take that ride again. And at the end of the song, she joins the chorus but does not disappear into it. Her voice rises up out of crowd. And the crowd calls itself “we”. These women are united but not subsumed into being One Woman. This is about Women. 

And then, outside the song itself, there’s the history of this song about history. It’s originally by Jimmy Webb and was covered by Glenn Campbell. This cover inspired the name of the supergroup that covered it, the group with Willie Nelson, Kris Kristofferson, Waylon Jennings, and my man Johnny Cash. And it’s like holy shit! What an amazing group to collaborate! Hot damn! 

Then, it’s 2019 and here’s The Highwomen with Brandi Carlile, Natalie Hemby, Maren Morris, and Amanda Shires. The name is obviously riffing on The Highwaymen. Shires set out to form the group in direct response to the lack of female country artists on the radio and at festivals. And they name themselves after a country supergroup, and they put out this song, a song connected to massive names in country music, and they center all of this on women and womanhood and the right of women to be counted in history and to make history and to talk about the ways we have mistreated and marginalized women, in a group that started because one woman was like hey! we’re mistreating and marginalizing women! 

I just think this is neat! I think there’s a lot here we could unpack! But this post is 100 times longer than I was planning and work starts in a bit so uh I’m gonna go get dressed and listen to The Highwomen on repeat for the next hour, “Heaven is a Honky Tonk” is another fucking bop that improves on the original, it would be dope if they’d collab with Rhiannon Giddens, okay byyyyyyyye 

[eulau]

⟨ ROSS BUTLER. CIS MALE. HE / HIM. ⟩   though the mist might prevent some from seeing it,   CHARLIE LAU   is actually a descendent of   ATHENA. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-SEVEN year old ELEMENTARY EDUCATION MAJOR from VICTORIA, MICHIGAN, US has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite APPROACHABLE & RECKLESS.

                    character details.  ♡  pinterest.  ♡  wanted connections.  ♡  playlist.

hey all,  i’m jj and i’m a full disaster.  my pronouns are she/her, i’m 26 and i live in the cst.  i work full time but i’m also fake so i’m on discord like  ...  the entire work day unless i’m in meetings.  but i am busy so i can be pretty slow and am likely to be most active on the dash with replies on weekends,  but i’m around to plot all the time so hit me up.  i’m also in the indie rpc which is where i’m most active and by most active i mean barely there,  but anyways.  i’m the worst so i’ll probably end up writing a full bio at some point,  but in the meantime check out the bullet points and his stats. 

PERSONALITY

at his core, charlie lau is warm.  raised by a grandmother who loved him fully, he learned that the only way to live a life that is full, you need to put your heart into it. so that’s what he has always done.  while some may challenge him by saying if he truly wanted to follow his heart, he’d pursue art,  he disagrees.  because while his art may be how he illustrates his heart,  teaching is how he best thinks he can fill it. he is passionate and empathetic, always willing to take a step back and help whoever is a step behind him. and from his own experiences in school,  he knows how important a good teacher can be. how they can change a student’s entire view of learning.  he wants to make school not only a safe but fun space for kids, regardless of  how they learn. he wants to help them figure out their how, and give them the tools to do so.  he’s almost endlessly patient, only waining with those who who insist on bringing others down.  

while there is uncertainty in life, he has none in his plans for his career.  he is facing the future with bright eyed confidence,  a smile on his face as he prepares to do what he can in a world designed to kick the spirit out of you.  he likes to bring an excited energy to everything he does, and while he doesn’t always think things through enough, he finds that a positive attitude can get him through even some of his worst screw ups.  charlie is the person you want on your side,  and the shoulder you want to lean on.  if you give him a chance to hold your heart he’ll do nothing but keep it warm.

POWERS

genius intelligence — charlie has always been smart, his education coming easier to  him than it did with any of his classmates. if he could ever sit still. while incredibly smart, he was always critiqued by his teachers for his more hyperactive tendencies and the way he never seemed to be paying attention. he was often accused of cheating on quizzes, as his teachers didn’t think it were possible for him to pay such little attention, but still do well. however, he did pay attention. they just couldn’t realize that this is exactly how he did that.  he’d been known to help his friends study, although he struggled to be very good at that. apparently not everyone learned best if you ran through flashcards while physically hanging upside down on the monkey bars in the local park. however, over time he learned just how his friends best needed to study, and that’s what he’d do. it started a pattern that lead to what he knew he wanted. he hated seeing his friends, or anyone really, lose their confidence in their own minds. he wanted everyone to realize they were smart. capable. and could learn. their minds may just work a little differently.

skilled craftmanship — while he did well in school, there is something he kept to himself. something far more personal than the way he could get away with not really studying for quizzes so long as he listened in class. his love for art. from a young age, charlie was always drawing. on paper, on the walls, it didn’t matter. life was his canvas. and while his grandmother didn’t necessarily discourage it, he did feel as though it was something that he should keep to himself. something that was just his way of reinterpreting the world for his own thoughts, particularly when things seemed to get just a little too crazy.  but nevertheless,  he finds himself always turning to his art.  he always has a sketchbook in his bag and can be found doodling on napkins and the edges of paper placemats. while he doesn’t see anything he draws or paints as impressive, there are always looks of shock as people notice the intricacy of his drawings. as he’s gotten older he’s gained some confidence in his art, however, it is still by far the ability he is least confident in. leading to most of his art being kept shut away in notebooks and folders, away from judgmental eyes.

superhuman agility — charlie likes to think it’s just because he puts in the work, but there is definitely a genetic component to the ease he has in various physical activities. while it is not very obvious, it is subtly super-human, proven by the exasperation of his friends his adolescent years. particularly when playing games like dodgeball or jail tag.

OPTIONAL INFO

charlie is part of a few student organizations at eonia, including the feminist alliance,  asian students alliance and the rollerskating club.

he works as a student tutor at the library, primarily helping with math and history courses.

he was raised predominantly by his paternal grandmother after the death of his father,  who passed when charlie was merely two years old.  while he doesn’t remember his father,  he grew up with plenty of stories and pictures of his father’s childhood all around the small midwestern home.

charlie and his grandmother lived in a small costal town along lake superior on the upper peninsula of michigan. his grandmother making a living as a home health aid,  driving around the few towns in their area.  because of this,  when charlie was younger he was often taken along with her,  a sketchbook in hand as he tried to do something other then kick the back of the passenger seat from his perch in the back of her car.

as a kid, charlie was very active. he’d grown up playing sports, the attempt of his grandmother to keep a very active child as content as possible. he played baseball and hockey, and as he grew older became one of the several regular bikers that took to the trails for their cardio.

charlie was raised with a pretty heavy religious upbringing by his paternal grandmother, which inspired a great deal of his values. however he doesn’t consider himself religious. he just pulls from teachings about acceptance, loving thy neighbor, and the like. he doesn’t really identify with the “godliness” of any religion as he knows that the greek gods exist.  so who’s to say others don’t? he is focused on the humanity of the all.

charlie’s favorite band growing up was jimmy eat world and no you can’t make fun of him for that because he stands by that choice.

[crxckedchxssis]

[  supernatural. misha collins. unknown. agender. ] bright light fading away CASTIEL has found themselves in a new unrecognized land. the last thing HE remembers before they were taken was MOVING ON FROM DEAN AND LEAVING THE BUNKER. they say back in those times they were known to be +COMPASSIONATE, however, also have their moments when they could be -AWKWARD and was always best recognized by SHATTERED HALOS, BLUE, GLOWING EYES, AND FALLING STARS. 

@zertheastarters​

BASICS

Name: Castiel

Nicknames: Cas (please not Cass!), Cassie (though he’s not particularly fond of this one), and the self-hating angel of thursday, just because :)

Age: Honestly? Who knows. He’s as old as creation, and we don’t know when that was in spn lore. He’s had lines like “in all my thousands of years,” though, so we knows he’s at least thousands of years old.

Gender and pronouns: Agender, usually presents as pretty masculine but has also had a female vessel before, so I headcanon that he Doesn’t Really Care. Uses he/him pronouns mostly, but feel free to use any pronouns for him, he’ll accept anything. 

Sexuality: Aspec, homoromantic

Species: Angel. Specifically a Seraph. if you’d like more information on angels in spn you can find detail on them here. You can also find Cas’ powers here, everything under Seraph abilities with the exception of time travel and teleportation (anything that involves his wings) are Cas’ current abilities.

Personality: Cas is driven by doing the right thing and his love for his found family. However, he’s also pretty naïve and has been easily manipulated into doing terrible things in the past, based on the belief that he was doing what was for the best. He’s determined, a good fighter, and is very compassionate. He’s also very awkward in social situations, doesn’t tend to understand social cues, etc. Has moments of being extremely soft and cute, but he’s also a complete badass, and can be kinda ruthless when he needs to be. He’s very smart! He used to be a soldier of Heaven who lead an army, and he’s very strategic because of it. 

HISTORY

You can find Cas’ backstory here but I’ll try to summarise the important stuff as best I can!

Met the Winchesters after pulling Dean from Hell. Was little more than a soldier of Heaven at first, did his job, followed orders, was basically emotionless. Started to doubt and feel the more he bonded with the brothers, especially Dean. Eventually rebelled against Heaven and their plan after Dean taught him the importance of free will.

Has died and been resurrected many times.

Lost the use of his wings when he was manipulated by Metatron to make all of the angels fall from Heaven, and to lock them out. He still has his wings, but they’re in very bad shape.

Has been to purgatory, heaven, hell, the empty, alternate universes... you name it, he’s probably been there (within the spn universe, anyway). 

Has been possessed by Lucifer.

Has been miserable for a very long time, to the point there’s a whole plot dedicated to how he will die when he finally allows himself to be happy. In the show, this happened when he finally confessed his love for Dean, but I’m bringing him from before then. 

Is in love with Dean, best friends with Sam, and a parental figure to Jack. 

MISC

Fucks up a lot but has also never done anything wrong ever.

Black oil slick coloured wings!

A grumpy soft boi who is also a complete badass.

Probably thinks this is all Chuck’s fault.

Has Dad Issues. Chuck/God disappeared for years and years while the angels continued to worship him and do things in his name, then reappeared inserting himself in the Winchesters’ lives, then revealed himself to be God and disappeared again, then eventually revealed that he’s been controlling everyone (except Cas, because he, for some reason, didn’t follow Chuck’s plan), then killed Jack, and unleashed the souls of Hell. So yeah... Dad Issues.

Is currently possessing the corpse of Jimmy Novak, and Jimmy’s death has been stated to be one of his biggest regrets.

Feels responsible for Claire Novak, Jimmy’s daughter.

Not good with references even though Metatron once gave Cas all of his knowledge on every story he’s ever read/watched etc. (which is pretty much all of them)

Loves bees and pop music.

He’s autistic.

I’ll be bringing him from the end of 15x03. He literally just walked out of the bunker at the end of the episode when he was brought to Zerthea, so his ‘break up’ with Dean is very fresh.

Probably more that I’m forgetting but I’ll come back and add stuff when I think of them!

[hypnotica-ships]

how abouuuuut... 1,3 and 4 too?

Oh boy, this got suuuuuuuuuper long, but I’ve been holding a lot of this in, and I didn’t even get to mention the crow raisings...I’ve tried to keep this short and skipped a ton of things, so if you want some more info about anything, let me know, I”d be more than happy to answer! The last two questions will be under the cut, cause wow, can I talk....

1. What is your s/i's name & pronouns? Legally- Mathew E. Sionis However, only a few very close people know it, and even then they all still call him Crow. Even when he still had his deadname. No one but him and his father know what the "E." stands for. Also he goes by He/Him and They/Them. Mostly the first set though.

3. Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it? Oh boy, do I. It's fairly messy, and you need to keep in mind that the first media I inserted myself into was DC Comics, plus I was 15 and never knew about the whole Self-Shipping Community until like last year, thanks btw. It gets dark and some spots, my bad, blame 15 year old edgelord Crow.

Let's start at the beginning yeah? Crow was born the second child to Circe, not much is know about her, and Roman Sionis who at the time had just started to make his name big in the underground crime scene, in Gotham City. She had an older brother and a younger brother, each sibling was born with some darker magic powers, but showed no sign of it at the time they were in his care. After Crow's younger brother was born (both siblings have names, but I'm a bit shy about saying who each one is, but as we'll see later, they don't really get along anyways...), their mother died. Which sent Roman into a bit of a spiral, he became incredibly paranoid. He thought the only way to save his children (who are all a year apart, so the oldest is about 2 and a half to three) was to kill them, but he had a hard time doing it directly after what he did to the older brother.... So he sent the other babies away in basket down a stream hope that would solve the problem. There was a fork in the stream, one child went one way while the other one went another. Crow's way went into a run off into a sewer, not just any sewer, (oh boy...here we go...) the Arkham Asylum sewer, where a big ole' Mr. Killer Croc found what he thought was a dead child. Once he realized the child was still alive, he tried his best to get one of the orderlies of the Asylum's attention. They....had no idea what to do, so (even though I"m pretty sure they probably would of sent the child to an orphanage...) they decided to have the inmates, with constant security around, raise the child (15 year old me had some ideas....to bad i never changed this...).

Yadda yadda yadda, time skip, Crow now has realized she has shadomancy powers and just basic magic as well, but no clue how to use em, so they 'wing it', they also have a pretty good gig at stealing things, since she can travel through the shadows real sneaky like. She finds out at some point who her dad is, and the younger brother, Crow is furious, and vows to never speak to her father ever again, but he insists on buying her love and gives her an "allowance" of like a billion a month, but she refuses to keep it all and only saves enough to live on while the rest gets sent to charity. She's about 13 at this point and has bought out an old hotel to live in that was ment to be torn down, so it's basically falling apart except for one room and the roof. Safe enough to live in though. Yadda yadda, still the same age, she meets Lonnie while looking for one of her pet crows that went into his cell at juvie, stuff happens they become friends, he finds out about her living situation, tells his folks, and now they basically adopted her. Crow and Lonnie cause trouble for a few years as a fucking awesome team. When they are around 16 or so, Jamm just shows up, and he needs a place to stay, and at this point Crow's hotel is fixed up a bit more thanks to help from Lonnie. So they let him stay in an extra room.

He now forever part of this group.

They make a band, The Nest, but it's kind of a cover up for vigilantism. At this point, since I like to keep things as cannon as possible, Lonnie fakes his death, which cause Crow to spiral, similar to how her father did when he lost her mother. It's sad and depressing time, lot of plot points, but I'll try to sum it up: Drinking problems, lots of failed relationships good and bad, possible murder, the older brother comes back and explains some stuff he may also be Satan, Crow and Jamm bonding time, and ect.

I dunno, about 18-ish now or whatever, I really don’t have the best concept of time, Crow dates Jimmy, thanks to some old connections with Lois who set them up, it goes pretty well, Crow is healing. She's not fully healed though, and Jimmy recommends getting out of Gotham since it seems to make things worse and she needs a vacation. Cool, she'll just move to Metropolis where Jimmy lives, nah, doesn't last long, but she does take a trip to Washington D.C. Crow sees a figure on the roof tops lurking around on her trip. One rainy night she confronts it, whoops, Lonnie is still alive! They end up fighting about him not telling her for a few months or so, until he finally says he's sorry. Crow and Jimmy adventures happen, (such as Crow finding out about her Uncle Guile and meets Holger and Marnie, which leads into like a year long hijinks, one relationship that ended in an uncertain way, and now Crow goes back home but has a distant little sibling now, they call and text each other now and again, even go out to lunch), but Crow is still not happy, and Jimmy takes note. Stuff happens, and he proposes.....Crow says no. She realized that she.....probably should of been a he. Crow with this knowledge dumps Jimmy, he takes it well and understands, but Crow still feels bad about it.

After, Crow moves back to Gotham, he talks to Lonnie about going about transitioning. He helps Crow with the whole process, killing whatever ill will was left form the faking death for years bit.

Crow's about 19-20 now, dates Jimmy again, he takes him to meet his cousin Archie in Riverdale. As he visits, he notices a kid and his dad. Said dad is....abusive....and Crow takes note. Stuff happens, Crow and Jimmy breakup again, but Crow moves to Riverdale, cause he needed a change and felt happy there. He remembers the dad and kid, and confronts them, big mess happens, and now Crow has an adopted son, Reggie (who's about 16). Tiny time skip, more garbage happens and then a dying bloodied kid shows up on Crow's doorstep, after helping him and saving his life he asks about the kids family, stuff happens, and now he has kid x2, Julian (also 16, but like 5 months older then Reggie, who hates that.) Stuff happens. Crow is happy with his family and the occasional visits from Uncle Lonnie and Uncle Jamm really help keep Crow sane, (a lot of trauma, a lot of mental issues here, same s/i, same) things are about to get a lot more interesting when the band Reggie is in is asked to open for Josie and the Pussycats....

4. How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now? I decided to kinda make this a continuation of 3.

Crow was hanging out backstage of his son's performance, checking out the food and making himself a little serving even though the sign said "For band members only!". All of a sudden, a guy in a blue suit, sunglasses and a smug aura about him, slid up next to him. Crow immediately did not trust this man.

Dude asked if Crow was THEE Crow from the Nest, mentioned he was a fan, and wondered what they were up to since they went silent a few years ago. Crow answered as nice as he could, against his better judgement. This guy, Alexander, had the gull to offer him a contract to manage The Nest to "give them a second chance..." The Nest need not a second chance, if they wanted to go big, they would of years ago without this clown’s help.

Yadda yadda yadda, Alex doesn't stop pushing, and Crow ends up becoming a sort of mentor to the Pussycats, while also helping them keep their manager at bay, aka a distraction. Crow and Alex somehow become friends after he realizes that Alex was super lonely growing up and at this point Crow might be his only friend besides the Pussycats (who pay him/he pays them). They get quite close, and Crow, even though he hates that he let this happen, kinda has a major soft spot for this dork.

It took them over a year or so to finally tell each other that though. Not my fault they needed to go through a bunch of agnst/yearning adventures....

Sorry this got super long, but oh boy, did it feel good to finally get this off my chest. I clearly skipped a ton to keep this "short", but that doesn't mean I don't have those ideas fully fleshed out. So if in any point in the future you want me to elaborate, I"d be more than happy too! Thanks for the ask, and sorry to bombard you with a huge wall of text. <3

[pentanguine]

1. Do you use any other terms to define or explain your gender?

So…I got a little carried away. Most of these posts will not be this long, but I had a lot I wanted to say, and a long drizzly afternoon to work on saying it, so.

Aside from genderqueer, trans, and nonbinary…

I’ve started feeling more at home with the word transmasculine this year, after several years of circling it warily and ultimately running away because it would just be ALL TOO SHOCKING. Other people interpret transmasculine in a wide variety of ways, many of which make me deeply uncomfortable (eg “Transmasc = physically transitioning in all the same ways trans men usually do;” “Transmasc = trans man but woke about it;” “Transmasc = I have aligned myself against women and forsaken feminism and I love asserting my dominant gender role”), and voluntarily using a word that’s ripe for misinterpretation made my control-obsessed brain fuck right off.

But ultimately it’s not really about using words (what does that even mean? putting them in your tumblr bio? buying the pride flag?) so much as knowing, however privately, that you are a thing. And I’m transmasculine! It’s a word that feels comfortable, and homey, and exciting. Other people who use that word sound like me! They look like me, and they look how I want to look! I get such a blooming, leaping, light-filled feeling in my chest when I see these people, because I instinctively feel that these are People Like Me. I recognize myself in their experiences of gender, and sometimes I feel like my whole body’s going to shake apart with a euphoria that’s like being on fire. Every time I read something by Daniel M. Lavery I end up rolling around on the floor in paroxysms of delight and Feeling Seen, and my brain lights up like a fireworks display when I see awkward bi men with curly brown hair and glasses. There is still a little part of my brain that’s convinced referring to myself as transmasc will make everyone deeply disappointed in me, and obligate me to go out and befriend a footballer named Chad, but I’ve been casually referring to myself that way since May in semi-public venues and the sky hasn’t fallen in yet.

Transmasc feels like a useful word for me because it makes me feel more settled. I think a lot of times nonbinary gender is simplified to gender neutrality (which it is for some people!), while for me it’s more like a stewing mess full of things that don’t make coherent sense in anyone’s mind but my own. So I can like masculine words and gender presentations, and that doesn’t mean I’m equating neutrality with masculinity, and I can also express my gender in the numerous non-masc ways that feel natural to me while still having that anchor to come back to. Ultimately, I think it just means that I have a more meaningful relationship with masculinity than I have with femininity, neutrality, or androgyny, and that I’m deliberately moving in a more masc-coded direction that the one I started out. And that’s it!

--

The other big gender-conceptualization-thing that I’ve been thinking a lot about is the complicated muddle of doubleness and inversion that I feel between gender identity, gender presentation, sexuality, and gender expression. I don’t feel bigender, because that sounds like I have two discrete gender experiences sitting side by side, and I’m not genderfluid, because it’s not like my gender actually changes, but I do feel like I’m part woman-affiliated agender person, and part genderqueer guy with the genderqueer dialed up to eleven and the guy dialed down to two. Part of me feels apart from gender, but nebulously attached to queer ideas of womanhood (lesbian! spinster! middle school girl at a sleepover who promises to love her friends more than any passing crush!), and then part of me feels apart from gender, but like I picked Guy Gender to steal for myself and imitate and relentlessly queer by virtue of not taking it seriously enough. But it’s all mixed together, you know? Like paint swirling on a palette, or light bringing out iridescence on fish scales. Sometimes it will be more like one thing, sometimes more like another, but it’s always whole and completely intertwined.

Earlier this year a Miriam Zoila Perez quote about being a faggy butch was going around, and man, that gave me a lot of gender feelings. I first encountered the term fairy butch on this old blog called The Butchelor, and while I loved it then, I didn’t use it because of a radfem-induced trepidation that it was all an elaborate joke everyone understood but me. I also have an extremely annoyed relationship to the word butch, because I’m not butch at all, and I doubt anyone else would think I am, but this seems to be the only word anyone is capable of using to describe queer masculinity. It’s like other people are determined to smash you into yet another binary (ironically, a binary that’s jealously guarded by the same people who keep enfolding you in it) because you’re afab and like wearing ties. It’s annoying!

But the phrase fairy butch just seems so delightful to me, because it’s whimsical and complex, and also so genderfucky. I’m not masculine in any of the ways that usually cohere to the word butch—I don’t have the interests, or the mannerisms, or the sexual propensities or the haircut or the total dislike for anything feminine-coded (why is masculinity always all or nothing, and all about absence?). I love my socks with the sparkly pink foxgloves, I love smiling (why must men never smile?), I like sitting with my legs crossed and talking with my hands. I’m not feminine, I’m effeminate. I’m a double invert, gay for women and gay for men, a too-boyish-“woman” who doubles right back around as a too-feminine-“man.” Maybe I’m not a butch, or even a (faggy) butch, but dammit I’m a fairy/butch. Two queers in one, two inextricable, contradicting queernesses that complicate and complement and mitigate and enhance each other.

--

The idea that I’ve been slowly winding towards is that contradiction is part of my gender. It’s not something that’s going to get smoothed out one day when I find The Perfect Word, and the questioning and revisiting isn’t going to end when I reach The Final Stage of Transition or whatever. I read an article a few weeks ago that nebulously cited Jack Halberstam as saying “refusal to resolve my gender ambiguity has become a kind of identity for me,” and that’s something that resonates with me so, so much. I don’t have to make myself neat and appropriate for consumption, because my gender doesn’t exist at the mercy of other people’s understanding. I’m not a problem that has yet to be shoved into a “woman-aligned” or “nonvir” box, I just am. Sitting amidst the dissonance of things that other people tell me are impossible to feel at the same time is my identity. I never want to cohere.

It reminds me of the way I feel about historical figures like Katharine Hepburn and Daphne DuMaurier, who were definitely genderqueer as fuck, but also closeted to the outside world for their entire lives, and unclassifiable in modern terminology. They were real, complex people who existed, and are now gone! It would be really weird to assign them a coherent identity, like “Hepburn was a nonbinary trans man” or “DuMaurier was genderfluid” or what-have-you, when all you have are decontextualized fragments of their gender feelings. (I feel comfortable calling them genderqueer because that can be used as an adjective to describe cis people who queer gender, which they definitely did)

Anyway: I feel very deeply connected to these people, and the way they saw themselves as being boys, or like-men, or men-in-certain-contexts, or men-and-women, or women-who-wanted-to-be-men. But the thing is, wherever they may have wanted to go, they never arrived. Would Hepburn have preferred to be known professionally as Jimmy, gone by he/him pronouns in all areas of life, and identified as a proud trans man? Barring some spectacular archival discovery, we’ll never know, because that was never a viable option in Hepburn’s lifetime. And that space of possibly-wanting, but not-arriving, feels like a destination to me. That gap, between wanting and actualization, or fantasizing and pursuing, or playing around and Identifying As, feels like it is part of my experience of gender. I’m not a man, I’m a woman-who-wants-to-be-a-man. There has to be that distance, and that wanting.

I’ve gone on for an absurd amount of time here, but ultimately: I’m queer! My gender is queer! Some people are men, some people are women, and I’m a queer.