#and zizi!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Follows from @angst-after-dark's piece here

-

There's a little coffeeshop down the road from the soup kitchen, and Jameson makes his way there, clutching a handful of dollars that Taron's friend had slipped him when he told her to fuck off and stop trying to make conversation. Then he'd apologized for telling her to fuck off. Then she'd given him the money.

He curls up on a couch in the corner. It's a million years old and sagging in the middle, but soft, and he can sit here sipping coffee until they ask him to leave. Dark clouds gather overhead, promising rain. Thunder rolls somewhere in the distance, as low as Robert's voice rumbling when he ordered Jameson out of the cage.

He misses Nanda's deeper growl, the purr always at the edge of every order given. Men always talk to him like that, low and deep. There are so many flavors of deep voices, so many different tastes on his tongue.

The thunder comes again, louder this time.

"Oh, Elsie'll be scared as shit," He mutters. Taron's goat - or, well, Zizi's really - didn't like loud deep noises like that. She'll be hiding in the barn behind haybales or something. Taron'll have to hunt around for her.

Well. Not his problem anymore. He'd seen the look on Taron's face after he hurt him, heard the get out of here that the man never said.

Jameson looks down, taking another sip. The coffee is good but it just makes the way his chest twists in hurt and... and guilt, cut a little deeper. He had known sooner or later that Taron would get sick of him. It was just a matter of time..

But he still feels like shit about it.

The little bell over the door rings as people come inside, probably just wanting out of the rain that had started to fall, droplets tap-tap-tapping. Jameson closes his eyes, fighting the saltwater heat stinging there. He doesn't cry anymore. Robert took every year he had left. He won't cry again.

He was stupid to think his broken brain was worth fighting for. His broken body, scarred and in pain all the time. The legs that some days don't work, and he has to pretend he doesn't want to do chores so he doesn't have to admit that he does want to help, but his knees won't straighten out without agony, his legs won't hold his weight. He was stupid to think some guy would want to deal with his nightmares and how sometimes he tastes the voices of people who have died, how nightmares wake him up screaming.

With all his scars and his fucked up bald patches, he isn't even pretty enough to earn it by opening his legs. Nobody wants a scarred slut.

Especially not one who pulls a knife when you're just trying to help him, the fucking moron.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Stupid-

He jams the palm of his hand against his eyelids, fighting the way his throat closes up, how badly he wants to cry. Not here. Not now. Not ever again.

The couch dips as someone sits down next to him, and he turns to snarl fuck off, can't you see I'm a fucking danger to you only to have the words die in his throat, the taste of them turn to nothing on his tongue.

Zizi, head tipped to one side, waggles her fingers in a wave. "Hello."

Jameson blinks.

Then he looks away, and-

Taron, lurking with hands in his pockets. Long sleeves cover the bandage Jameson knows is there on his arm. He looks as bad as Jameson probably does, the exhaustion written in his face and frame.

"What-..." He has to clear his throat, rubbing aggressively at tear tracks to pretend they never existed. He looks from one of them to the other. "Why the fuck are you here?"

Zizi is the one who answers. Her voice pops on his tongue, like always. If she ever kissed him he might melt into the floor. "We came here for you, Jameson."

"... Why?" His eyes go to Taron. The cold anger of this morning isn't there, not even when Jameson searches for it, for even a hint. He just looks tired, and... relieved. "I fucking cut your arm. You could have bled-"

"Gave myself stitches." Taron shrugs, as if discussing taking a short walk on a sunny day. "Done it before. Not such a deep cut."

"I'm..." He didn't know what to say. He had been thinking about leaving an apology note at the restaurant, taping it to the door and then disappearing again. Easier for them. Easier to understand that he knows he isn't wanted anymore.

Except-

They're both here.

"I'm not safe," He finally says, rasping, just above a whisper. "I have nightmares-... all the time."

Zizi puts a hand on Jameson's shoulder, thumb rubbing a little there, soothing. How she does this - touches without intent or coercion, only affection - is a revelation for Jameson. He can't remember anyone before the two of them who could touch him without demanding something in return.

Taron, where he stands, only nods.

"I wake up and I-I don't know where I am. I could... do anything. Hurt anybody. I hurt you. I don't want to-... But I don't know. I only see..." He trails off. "I only see Robert. Or Brute."

The two of them share a look, but Jameson doesn't see it. He's staring down at his coffee again. Outside, thunder cracks and the lights in the coffeeshop flicker. Someone laughs nervously across the room, acidic like orange juice.

"People who hurt you," Zizi says, voice low and soft. She moves close to him and something in Jameson's iron isolation cracks. He leans against her, lets his head rest on her shoulder.

"People who fucked me up," He agrees, eyes closed. "Better I stay off by myself, anyway. It could happen again. I could hurt someone again-... I don't-... I don't want to hurt someone again... But I wake up and I see him, and I know if I don't fight this time... it doesn't fucking matter. I hurt you, and you, you did the right fucking thing, telling me to go. I won't bug you anymore. I'll fuck off, and you don't have to worry about me anymore."

"Oh, honey," Zizi murmurs. Her arms go around him.

There's a silence.

Then, Taron says in his own soft, deep voice, "I didn't tell you to go, kid."

"... What?"

"Didn't... Didn't want you to go."

[wis-art]

Waleria L. Brzęczyszczykiewska :)

I did a bit of redesigning and now she does not have boobies she's a tgirl pre hrt

[seulzitos]

　it's better, better, better than gold ✧　　　　₊　　　　𖨂☕️　　　　⁺　　　　◎

♥︎ . @n-americano

[twixnmix]

Vintage Look Magazine Covers

Marilyn Monroe (November 17,1953)

Zizi Jeanmaire (March 9, 1954)

Audrey Hepburn (March 23, 1954)

Ava Gardner (January 25, 1955)

Sophia Loren (August 6, 1957)

Elizabeth Taylor (August 15, 1961)

Barbra Streisand (April 5, 1966)

Diahann Carroll (October 29, 1968)

Diana Ross (September 23, 1969)

Raquel Welch (March 24, 1970)

[dozydawn]

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Zizi Jeanmaire (Anything Goes, Hans Christian Andersen)—She was typecast as "sexy french ballerina for the male leads to get flustered over" in a few Hollywood films and she always did it masterfully, probably because she really was a sexy french ballerina. She just always brings it, she's so fun and flirty and I love her so much. Unfortunately her best Anything Goes numbers aren't on youtube, so I submit this ballet number from Hans Christian Andersen instead: [link]

Pearl Bailey (Carmen Jones, St. Louis Blues, Porgy and Bess)—vintage crush of all time, the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, and my GOD the PIPES! She wasn't in nearly enough movies, but every time I see her I'm aghast all over with what a gorgeous woman she was. Vote Pearl for diva glamor like no one else! (also....she was on the Muppet Show!)

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Pearl Bailey propaganda:

"Pearl Bailey was an absolute POWERHOUSE! She's best known for her career in music and theater (she's a DIVINE singer, and very funny). But she also did several feature films, including a controversial adaptation of Porgy and Bess (controversial because of the story; the actors were pretty much coerced into it). She's got a style all her own, you can recognize it from a mile away. She's got you chuckling and crying from one phrase to the next. I love her <3"

"Cheekbones to die for"

Zizi Jeanmaire:

[walnutmistjamie]

Phil Dunster in Oklahoma! in Concert

[ladyxgaga]

Lady Gaga performs before the opening ceremony of the Olympic Games Paris 2024 on July 26, 2024 in Paris, France

[lisamarie-vee]

[6regnad9]

Spookiz a mi estilazo, ahora me toca aser el baile atraidor de fandoms muertos

[be-on-your-way]

A Waltz for Zizi

[wis-art]

I felt like drawing a cute girl so i drew my oc Makda (zizi)

[nenan]

Zizi Zheng photographed by Peidi

[zaneswhite]

Shoutout to black transmascs/studs/just masc presenting queer individuals who often struggle with or worry about being seen as masc by nb people because of the weird relationship nb people have forcefully placed between masculinity and blackness.

Thoughts of “does this person see me as masculine because I am deliberately presenting that way or do they just have some weird internal biases about blackness” are common and you have every damn right to be suspicious even though you shouldn’t have to worry about that.

Please, let’s talk about it, let’s vent about it, let’s validate each other this pride and if you’re one of those people who think that black masc queers “pass better” because we’re black, please die.

[operaqueen]

Zizi Jeanmaire

[aberration-abbey]

2nd Lt. Taffy, AstroLab's resident secret alien shapeshifter, and her enthusiastic bestie, Ensign Zesiro.