#i love girls who were born Wrong and never understood why until they learned pronouns LKDJFHGKDJFGDFG

[riddeler]

the fact that dc Very rarely ever brings up eddie's childhood/past is so annoying for me but also that means it's free real estate

[cloveroctobers]

YASMIN DOUGLAS—

IG info/Bio: @/imyasmin_d | 11.6k followers | hello & ahlan 🎶

23-24 years old depending on her birthday (I’m thinking too much about timelines since i know some shows aren’t live and if they filmed it prior & it’s just being shown to us now...then there’s the boat party that comes in after, you get what I’m saying right? No? Okay)

Moroccan heritage

she was born in fes along with her baba

Father works in the carpet & rug manufacturing industry and worked in his father’s business from the young age of 16

her mother is from Essaouira & has often stated that she couldn’t stand Yasmin’s father the first time they met but she wouldn’t want to travel through this life with anyone else

Her father and mother came from two different lifestyles. All he knew how to do was hard work yet he had a sarcastic but playful side to him whereas her mom came from a family that was more financially stable & she was free to do whatever! mainly hanging at the beach with her friends without a care in the world, she was privileged and a little uppity while her father’s life seemed to be planned out from the day of his birth

Yet they still fell in love and decided to leave Morocco months after they got married at 21 & 24 & not too long after they had yas they left for England

She was raised in Kent, England

The Atmosphere led to her boho lifestyle...being exposed to castles, gardens, and underground tunnels from time to time shaped her into what she felt she was meant to be. She loved her second home

they call her “yazzy”

Parents follow islam...Which Yasmin respects but is not strongly devoted to

Can speak & write in Arabic but seems to do better in writing

Her paternal grandparents fault her parents for not teaching her to excel at both & feel that if they weren’t in such a rush to leave home she would speak Arabic better

Which made Yasmin feel like shit. Her paternal grandparents were strict on keeping their customs alive whereas her maternal grandparents were carefree as long as they got to see their granddaughter alive & well that was good enough for them

Idk maybe a only child or has a older brother? I don’t feel like she comes from a big family sibling wise

her mother made her a stuffed purple sheep that she took everywhere with her as a kid & continues to keep close to her. Y’all had imaginary friends? Well Yasmin had a real friend she could see & squeeze the life out that didn’t require talking and hugging the air, but that’s fine do u

100% collects beanie babies until this day but lil yamb is the number one princess in her household

As her significant other you have to be okay with lil yamb sleeping in between y’all that’s just the way it is

These stuffed babies are her comfort when no else can be

she’s a singer/songwriter. Went to uni for it & finished a semester early

Went through multiple hell experiences when it came to interning & temping while still in school & after

Let’s just say she wasn’t down to f*ck her way to the top

this made her anxiety act up, these people made her feel like she wouldn’t be good enough to show the world her craft & it’s didn’t have to be the world, just someone who would listen

But she couldn’t give up, there was nothing else she saw herself doing. She knew this is what she was meant to do but she couldn’t lie and say that her insecurities didn’t get the best of her most days

Although the cons seemed to out way the Pros some days, she kept at it & found herself a solid team that knew what she was about and understood her soul

Was definitely the student who loved all her English classes & when she spoke up everyone found it shocking since she preferred to just write everything out rather than “participate in group discussions”

I feel like her singing voice sounds similar to Jessica mauboy’s (if you don’t know who that is & you’re a fan of r&b/pop check her out or if you’re just curious that works too lol)

Knows her music notes like the back of her hand, duh!

Fav color is royal blue, especially on her eyelids & nails

Occasionally sleeps in rollers to keep her hair wavy

Needs her space when it comes to disagreements, they stress her out & she panics a bit when things go wrong so she feels like she needs to leave the situation rather than talk it out right then and there

She’ll talk when she’s ready, she just needs someone that’s a little patient with her that’s all

Words of affirmation is her love language? When she figures out how to balance her love life with her work life that is. When she’s feeling confident she’s smooth with words but when she needs to show you how much you mean to her & she really takes the time to think it out & feel her emotions, she’s writing you a song or you’re the inspiration to it or a poem, leaving you little love notes on blue post-it’s around the house, will write 50 reasons why she loves you on Valentine’s Day, and will say so when it’s just the two of you in your own comfort

Isn’t too crazy about public displays of affection but will deff hold your hand if that’s something you or she wanted in that moment

I think she’s fluid

Hasn’t been in many relationships. Sure she goes on tour every other year and gets to meet many people but they’re not solid relationships, they’re hookups and she hasn’t done many of those either

Had maybe one or two solid relationships: a androgynous woman that uses she/they pronouns & was in a rock band & a cis male she met at a tattoo parlor his step-brother owned (he kinda favored seb but we’re not going to speak on that)

I believe she wants to get married someday but isn’t so keen on the idea of kids. The furthest she’ll go is adopting a couple of animals. She’ll be a pet mom! I feel like she’ll be anxious looking after the life of a human being when it’s extremely hard to do so not only for herself and the love of her life & you want to add kids to the mix?! Fucking hell! but that could change? Who knows what life can throw at u

Has a hedgehog named Sonia that she drops off at her parents for their weekly sleepovers

Loves lace—mostly bralettes & crotchet clothing

I see her as a corduroy girl too. She has at least some rusty brown low-rise corduroy pants or/and a jacket

owns a crotchet kit, she’s bloody good at it too

Loved pink & purple (still likes them, they’re her 2nd & 3rd fav colors) so much as a kid that she tried to dye her hair half & half while her parents went out on their date night...it was also the weekend before school pictures :)

Says she got her inspiration from starfire & raven. She was only 13 at the time & had braces. Her father approved saying she’s a kid and she should be allowed to express herself. He only said that because his own parents barely let him & his brothers have their own fun

Her mother thought it was atrocious and did her best to get it out with the help of her other hair stylists friends (her mother worked in plenty of beauty shops once she got to England, until she decided to convert their basement into her own shop) who she invited over to see what her daughter had done but when you use certain permanent dyes...

It didn’t completely damage yasmin’s hair plus it was just hair, Yasmin didn’t see the big deal. She thought she looked splendid

Anyway, massive fan of ballroom dancing

She’s got a great ear to begin with so it was extremely fun twirling around while wearing pretty ballroom gowns

Took boring etiquette classes as a form of punishment? After the whole teen Titans inspiration thing “went wrong”

Enjoys western films

yes she owns a cowgirl hat & some boots too so sue her, she likes what she likes

Knows how to lasso but hates doing it to animals but she’ll do it to you :) (*gags* lmao why???)

Also loves visiting western towns & learning some history or at least experiencing what it was like

Type of significant other that will do her best to persuade you to stay in a treehouse airbnb, a cabin, the fucking Idaho potato, or camping out in her Volkswagen van in the middle of nowhere!

Has faux cow rugs, wicker baskets, wicker chairs in her flat, hangs some plants in glass jars & bottles all over her house

Her flat is very bright & vibrant: white, mocha brown, tan, yellows, & pastel purple

When it comes to decision making, she’ll make them pretty quick but only if it comes to choosing desserts

nobody is touching her mom’s meskouta orange cake WITH syrup

the dessert eater that always picks the one that has a surprise inside, meaning it has to ooze out with SOMETHING to make it 10x more satisfying

Leaning towards Buddhism, had studied some of their beliefs and found it resonates with her spirit

Fan of neon lights, probably has a few neon signs in her flat preferably on her brick wall in the loo, “to give u comfort as you go!” “that...actually makes sense.” Tai commented as he rubbed his chin coming to terms with yasmin’s reply. While Iona scowls, “no, no it doesn’t. I feel as if it’s an invasion of my bits!” “...Sorry you feel that way.”

tai & ciaran are automatically deemed as her brothers since she came into the villa with them. She had time to connect with them unlike anyone else. It was just the way the stars wrote their story and it showed outside of the villa too. they often crash at her place all the time when they’re in town & vacation all the time together when their schedules line up + it never feels like she’s third wheeling

“TaiTower” & “BB-Ci” are their names in her phone, Tai picked his own name while the “bb” stands for “best buds” for ciaran —which is a joke since he drunkly called himself so + he loves everyone when he’s drunk

You can always count on her to belt the lyrics to a Chaka Khan, TLC, or paula abdul joint when she’s drunk lol

As for the girls? She’s close with miki 😒 they just seem to be on the same wavelength when it comes to the pressure of the media since they have some sort of fame which increased with them being on the Telly. They bond over that & from there they’ve built a solid friendship

She could also be friends with AJ too (if you didn’t get swiped from her that is lmao!) they’re sorta opposites with aj being high energy/active while Yasmin is more mellow & “mysterious” but seem to connect in different ways: their sexual indentities, insecurities/anxieties, having something to be passionate about but at the same time maybe not? She might lean towards elladine or Genevieve if she had to make a choice?

Aquarius sun + cancer moon

so she’s still 23 y’all, I got it! I can’t do math sorry

“Freddie Mercury was probably my dad in my past life.”

Can play the banjo, guitar, & oud

Participates in hot yoga weekly

If she’s not with mc in the end and continues dating around if anyone from season two: LUCAS, Kassam, Gary, Rocco, maybe Blake? I originally thought Elisa but she’s probably too much for yas let’s be honest here lol they’d be better off as friends

Omg I forgot marisol! Imagine that?! Whew!!!

Season three: maybe Lily? But what if? Me being the slightly messy bitch that I am? Something happening with her & AJ. Now that?! Would be some chaotic shit “from the outside looks of it” name the irrelevant person behind the quote...now!

I’d like to see her interact with allerga but there could be something with her & cherry. I’m thinking cherry, Yasmin, & priya would bond well but we’re not here to talk about that

Getting rid of the physical aspect I genuinely think she’d do well with marisol, Lucas, or kassam. They’d mesh well I think in a relationship

She’s a body shimmer girl for sure!

Loves silk or satin robes

she’s a shortie, 5’2 to 5’5

Is learning Spanish

Loves arcade games, come see her in pinball & Pac-Man!

Quarantine life did not change her lifestyle much, but it did slightly mess with her mental health :/

loves the fall time, feels like she can slow down some and really spend time with family and friends

I feel like she has one best friend outside of the villa & that’s good enough for her!

They met their first year in uni & been close ever since

She doesn’t speak to the temporary friends she grew up with anymore & is often confused why they feel the need to keep up with her in the media which added more annoying worries to her heart but whatever right? Keep your eyes on the horizon

celebs she finds/found attractive: Aaliyah—especially when she played in queen of the damned, Kehlani, Zazie Beetz, Fivel & Booboo Stewart, Lakeith stanfield, Leah Lewis, Sofia Carson, Ryan gosling, & Nick Jonas

She listens to: jade bird, Yebba, Elli Ingram, Wafia, Zeina, Summer walker, Tanerèlle, Mariah the scientist, Teyana Taylor, Tove Lo, lady Gaga, Ra Ra Riot, Empire of the sun, & smallpools

Anthem? Diana Gordon — Rollin’

[maraudersandlily20]

This prompt is oddly specific and also not, but it's a brain-worm I haven't been able to get rid of--Tonks giving Harry a tattoo.

Teddy really liked playing airplanes. When Harry was over, it was all Teddy would talk about. He watched tv shows, he read muggle books, and he colored pictures that his grandmother had printed out. Harry would watch him in the yard, pretending to be different airplanes for hours. He knew the names, their speed abilities, and even their recognizable emblems. It was rather endearing.

On a hot summers day, while Teddy imitated airplane noises, Harry was sitting against a tree, his eyes partly closed. It was a lovely day and Andy had been desperate for Teddy to get his wiggles out, as she called them. So, Draco and Andy stayed and made dinner and Harry was left with the young one. 

He was six now, growing taller by the day. Harry would always tell him that he wasn’t allowed to grow anymore, which made Teddy squeal with laughter. He looked a lot like Remus when he smiled. It made Harry nostalgic.

Teddy would ask about his parents on occasion. He didn’t have any memory of them, other than feelings. So, when he got curious, he asked. They were always silly, ridiculous things, like what did Remus eat on his sandwich or did Tonks know how to whistle. But Harry tried to answer seriously for every question. He remembered how he had been so curious about his parents and their lives but hadn’t been given access to that until he was much older. 

However, in an odd way, Teddy didn’t really consider Remus and Tonks his parents. He didn’t call them mum or dad, and no one else spoke of them with those titles. He had grandma Andy, uncle Harry and uncle Draco, and a plethora of other adults who acted as makeshift guardians. He knew that his parents were his parents, but naming them by their titles of parenting never seemed to stick to Teddy. So, he called them Remus and Tonks, like everyone else. 

Teddy raced over to Harry and collapsed onto his lap, laughing. Harry gathered him into his arms and covered his face with kisses, proclaiming that he had finally shot down the mighty plane in the sky. They settled quietly, Teddy playing gently with Harry’s fingers, flicking them up and down.

“Harry?” He said, his voice bright.

“Yes love?”

“Did Remus like airplanes?’

Harry thought for a moment. “You know, I’m sure he did. He never got to ride in one though.”

“Did Tonks?”

“Maybe, you’ll have to ask grandma Andy.”

Teddy hummed in acknowledgement before starting anew with questions. “Did Remus like painting? Because I like painting a lot.”

“No, he wasn’t very good at art. But he was good at reading. He read almost every book you could ever think of! He was very smart. Your uncle Sirius was good at painting. He liked painting a lot.”

Teddy knew about Sirius, a bit, but his experience with the older Black man was limited. He knew he was Remus’ special friend, but that he had died before Teddy was born. Teddy liked looking at pictures of him, saying he thought he looked nice. 

“Maybe uncle Sirius gave me the ability to paint,” Teddy said, as if coming to a solid conclusion.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, maybe. What else do you want to know? About Remus and Tonks?”

“Did Tonks like soda?”

“They did. They loved sweets of all kinds. Sometimes, grandma Andy would get so mad at them because of all the sweets they hid under their bed.”

Teddy squealed. “I do that!”

“You do?” Harry exclaimed. “Well, then you must be punished.” His tickled his godson, laughing as Teddy tried to squirm away from him. He finally broke free, but he was smiling widely. 

Teddy stood before him, moving between his legs and squishing Harry’s cheeks between his chubby little hands. “Did Tonks like being able to change into a boy?”

It was a question that Harry always approached with caution. He knew that Tonks’ preference on gender was fluid at times, liking to change pronouns on occasion. Teddy had been understanding of the whole thing, but Harry never wanted to say anything wrong.

“I think they did. Tonks sometimes felt like their body didn’t fit them right. And when that happened, they presented as a boy, like you.” He poked Teddy’s stomach. “But sometimes, they liked looking like a girl. Or, on occasion, they didn’t like being either. They were lucky to get to choose, huh?”

Teddy patted Harry’s cheeks, eyes squinted in concentration. “Do you think Tonks would be mad at me because I only like being a boy?”

Harry felt the surprise on his face. “Uh... Well, no. You know, Tonks never really got mad at anyone, except for Remus. Tonks always said that everyone should feel free to be who they are, whatever they are. So, I don’t think Tonks would be mad that you only liked being a boy. If being a boy makes you happy, then that’s all they would want.”

The little boy nodded, as if the question had been worrying him for some time. “That’s good. I want Tonks to like me.”

“Tonks loved you a lot, little man. No matter what you looked like, they loved you. Okay?”

Teddy nodded. 

“Did Remus give good hugs, like you and uncle Draco?”

Harry smiled at the sudden turn. “He did. He gave big bear hugs, and sometimes he would squeeze so hard that if felt like you couldn’t breathe.”

“Did he give good presents? Grandma Andy said that Tonks was always really happy with the presents he gave them.”

Harry laughed. The questions that children came up with always surprised him. “He did. He and uncle Sirius gave me some of my favorite books that I own. He liked giving people chocolate, just like Grandma Andy did. And he often gave Tonks flowers or sweaters. Tonks loved it. So yeah, he did give good presents.”

“Did Tonks ever give you presents?” Teddy pressed, squishing Harry’s cheeks hard together.

“They did. Do you want to see?”

The boy nodded emphatically as Harry gently pushed him back. With swift fingers, he pulled his shirt from where it was tucked to reveal a small tattoo. It was a picture of a Willow Tree and it waved back and forth on his skin, as if moved by some breeze. There were moments when little birds would fly about the branches before settling. It was beautiful.

He remembered Tonk’s laughter as they pressed the needle against his skin. “You know, when I gave Remus his tattoo, he cried like a baby.” Harry snorted. 

“In my defense,” Remus piped up from the corner where he sat reading a massive novel. “it wasn’t my idea to get the tattoo. I never understand muggles’ incessant need to inflict pain upon themselves. 

“You have a tattoo?” Harry asked. 

“A moon,” Tonks chirped.

“Tonks thinks they’re very funny. It moves through the entire lunar cycle, and is in fact beautiful. It’s on my right shoulder, and it hurt almost as bad as shifting.”

“Come now, ripping your body apart must hurt worse,” Tonks countered, to which Remus just raised his eyebrow. 

“Why tattoos?” Harry asked them, drawing their attention back.

Tonks shrugged. “I’m not sure. I think I like the idea of adding something permanent to yourself. I was able to shift and contort my features however I wanted. But tattoos are something that you can’t shift away. They stay no matter what I look like. To have that feeling of permanence on my skin makes me feel a little more connected to myself.”

Harry understood that. It was partly why he had decided to get a tattoo in the first place. He wanted a reminded to himself that he was alive. He would spend countless hours trapped in his own head, but if he had something on his skin, something to look at and rely on that wouldn’t ever change, maybe he’d feel a little bit less lost.

“Why a willow tree?” The question came from Remus, but he was still looking down at his book. 

Harry shrugged, drumming his fingers against his bare chest. “I feel like the whomping willow at Hogwarts has seen, first hand, much of my growing up experiences. I figured it was a good homage to everything I’ve learned.”

Tonk smiled, wiping some of the excess ink away. “And, anyway, I didn’t tat the actual willow on you. I tweaked it a bit, made it more... whimsical. You don’t need the spikiness of the willow.”

“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “I like the feeling of permanence, especially something like a tree. It’ll refuse to die until it’s forced. Like me.” They laughed and Harry couldn’t help the light feeling that spread over his chest. “Besides, next time I’ll probably get something cheesy, like a snitch or a lighting bolt.”

“Or a dragon,” Tonks offered.

“Or a pair of antlers?”

They spent the remainder of time imagining new tattoos and where they would go. They laughed until their stomachs hurt and the willow tree was finished. Harry felt it was a symbol of peace and promise. He loved it.

Teddy’s fingers traced the branches of the tree, eyes wide in mesmerization. “Tonks gave you this?” he asked, his voice soft.

“They did.”

“They were good at drawing. But on skin.” Harry nodded as Teddy looked up for confirmation. “I want to be good at drawing like that.”

“If you practice, maybe you can.”

“Grandma Andy would let me?”

This made Harry pause. “Uh, I don’t know. Maybe. If you really wanted to. Grandma Andy wants you to be happy.”

Teddy returned to his seat on Harry’s lap, pulling his godfathers arms around him. “I can’t wait to get pictures on my skin,” he stated, sighing in contentment at the idea.

“Oh yeah?” said Harry with a laugh. “What picture on your skin would you get first?”

The little boy grinned up at Harry, looking so much like his father that it almost hurt, and said proudly, “An airplane!” A bark of laughter left Harry’s mouth at the answer and he held the little boy even closer. 

[destroyyourbinder]

stumbling blocks

This is why I can't uncritically believe that gender transition is good, that gender transition is justified, even if some people who have done it are satisfied with their decision. It is because to believe it is good or justified is to believe this.

There is a special class of female people who cannot thrive so long as they leave their body parts intact and unmodified, so long as they do not conceal from others that they have them. These people cannot live their best lives, or perhaps even tolerable lives, unless they undergo medical intervention to make various aspects of their bodies imitate various aspects of male bodies and unless other people studiously ignore or never know that they are female. This fact about this special class of female people has absolutely nothing to do with how female people are generally treated-- as subordinates, as sexual objects, as lacking full personhood legally and socially-- but instead comes from somewhere else entirely. If conditions improved so that no girl grew up scared of men raping or killing her, if conditions improved such that a girl did not grow up feeling like she would have to fight the weight of human history to achieve anything at all, if conditions improved so that female puberty did not mean the death of a woman's participation in her own potential, then there would still be a class of female people who wished to become like men and live like men, and who would feel horror at their own bodies insofar as they still were distinguishable, somehow and somewhere, from the body of someone male. In a world with no men there would still be a class of female people with inchoate longings for their breasts to disappear and something else, maybe incomprehensible in this female-only world, to happen to their genitals. Perhaps you could say that in a major city's hospital delivery ward today there will be a few infant girls who will be destined to be miserable, someday, so long as they cannot get a surgeon to slice open their bodies so that they and everyone they know can never be reminded again of the femaleness of their own flesh. Perhaps we can call this fact about this special class of females an illness, even though there is no other illness like this. There is no other illness that we say is synonymous with a desire, where the cure and the fulfillment are the same.

I truly can't believe that there is such a condition, that it is inevitable there are these such not-women, and they ought to be made more perfectly-not through scalpels and syringes. I can't believe that there are women who are essentially, necessarily limited by their womanhood, even a womanhood understood and lived without misogyny whatsoever. I can't believe that any woman's ideal and most meaningful life could depend fundamentally on rearranging her body and erasing herself as a woman in public view.

Are there happy trans men? I'm sure. Are they happy because they transitioned? Who knows. People incorporate all sorts of things into their growth and life stories, including those things deeply traumatic and those that never should have happened. Trans people often present themselves as infinitely fragile, but like all people, they are more resilient than they give themselves credit for. So I have to ask, given that there are those who have transitioned or had transgender-related interventions who are now happy, who claim they could not have even survived otherwise: if they would have failed to survive, what would have killed them?

Gender dysphoric people often cite the lives of older transsexuals and the most marginalized gender non-conforming people in order to give voice to their fears that their lives will be intolerable, dangerous, perhaps deadly, if they are not converted into the other sex or some reasonable facsimile. But inner identity turmoil did not kill these people: it was HIV/AIDS, gay bashing, violent johns, police brutality, medical neglect, alcoholism and drug abuse, domestic violence. These things are the result of discrimination, marginalization, misogyny, homophobia, institutional violence: all social and environmental factors. Transition is supposedly justified by something else entirely; as trans people remind us, not all of those beaten by their fathers or the cops or their husbands or their pimps end up wanting to be a different sex.

So then we cite those who died by suicide because they could not survive themselves. This is often the crux of the whole thing: it is justification for the utmost urgency of gender treatment and justification for the most radical forms of medical intervention, such as genital surgery and the transition of children. Transition may still be compelling for those who understand that they are trying to hide from the cruelties of the world, but it becomes a much sadder journey, one traversed with grief and depleted of personal validation. For those who believe or fear that the existence of their own bodies as they are will force their hand against themselves, it must seem liberating to be freed from this bizarre kind of danger: the danger that their body demands its own destruction should it fail to comply with the desires of its animating force.

What is this desire or need to be male and seen as male at the potential cost of one's life? Why would a female person hold both the desire to be male and the desire to die so long as being male is not realized? It seems reckless for medical professionals to treat such distress, a perverse threat against oneself, with something that purports to ease the threat by making the body comply. One should not make a policy of caving to a dictator, even if the dictator is yourself, and even it is you that gets to make your own demands. Because the question is the same as with all such narcissists: what if the body ceases to comply, what if the demands for compliance change, what if it's never enough?

I could manage to tolerate-- barely-- my own breasts so long as they were small, but in my early twenties they ballooned, and I wanted to die. I truly, deeply wanted to die. And then my scope broadened and broadened until I found myself staring at my toes in flip flops, next to the hairy and knobbly toes of my male friend J., and I thought the subcutaneous fat on my feet was an excellent reason to declare the end of all hope and go home to a furtive fistful of Benadryl and Tramadol and Valium and Vicodin, washed down with brandless 'tussin from the back of the fridge. Nobody noticed I was all fucked up, in and out of sleep for a couple days; I spent months of my life like this, often triggered by the most humiliating (then and now-- for different reasons) bullshit: the length of my palms, peach fuzz, the diameter of my areolas, the wear patterns of my jeans, a single "ma'am". Gender dysphoria is peculiar; it is both self-avoidance and self-holding one self-hostage. It's the pattern of many self-harming, self-dramatizing practices; there's a reason many trans men have eating disorders or are cutters.

Transmedicalists might stop me here to fret about framing gender dysphoria in terms of these mechanisms. But absolutely none of this follows the pattern of a neurological disorder. Who truly has a phantom beard or phantom lack-of-thigh-fat? What person unable to recognize the left side of their body as their own is ragingly envious of exactly half of everyone they meet? Nobody with neuropathy of their feet rigidly pretends they do not have them in public. And please tell me where "Ms." and "Mr." are represented in the body map.

When we revisit the question above, why hold both the desire to be male and the desire to die so long as one is not male, this all looks tremendously stupid. Female trans people have tied themselves to a chair and seem to be holding the end of the rope: why not just let go of the whole thing and be freed? And indeed, this is what many transphobes note and thereby ask of trans people. Just shut the fuck up, stop being so sensitive, just accept yourself already, you're never going to be really the other sex, quit whining about facts and threatening us over reality, go ahead and kill yourself and see if we care. So the trans solution to justifying themselves in the face of invalidating, insensitive-to-cruel questioning of dysphoria-logic is to locate the desire to be the other sex outside of their realm of responsibility. See, I was tied to the chair since I was born, and I really can't reach the knots! I have been cursed with this desire to be male and cannot be rid of it, so the only thing that can be done is to be rid of what conflicts with this desire.

What rid me of the majority of my dysphoria was not desperately trying to reach the knots. I could not "just accept myself". I did not "learn to love my body". I remained "too sensitive" no matter what I tried. The ironic key to dissolving my gender dysphoria was telling the transphobes that they were wrong. Not about biological sex or its permanence, about pronoun usage or whether trans women were real women and trans men real men, but about the fact that gender dysphoria was unjustified, stupid, a gratuitous sign of privilege, a plaything for the bored or a figment of psychosis.

I was not crazy: being female was truly bad. I was not delusional or dumb: I was channeling directly the history of women's existential despair. I was not a spoiled brat: I had suffered enough and did not want to suffer anymore.

When my dysphoria became justified it finally became within my reach, and slowly, slowly, I picked apart many thousands of twists and ties.

Was I responsible for my own dysphoria? In many ways, no. I think this is the tremendous fear of most trans people, and female ones in particular. If they take responsibility for healing their dysphoria they are supposedly responsible for its genesis, and this is unbearable. This phenomenon, more than any other, is what tells me gender dysphoria is not neurological, not inborn, not the ensoulment of a man in a woman's body, not just "identity" and its affirmation. It would not be unbearable to be saddled with causing your own distress at being female unless you really felt somewhere that your distress was for good reason and caused by factors outside your control.

I really didn't need to be responsible for it through and through to take enough responsibility to guide my way out. Maybe my head is truly predisposed in some way to have trouble with existing in a sack of meat or to set me in these stupid traps, but in a world where women were truly safe and free, I don't think I would have fallen into this one. I got to the point where I did not need to believe my dysphoria was inevitable or innate, a disease or disability or problem with my brain, to believe that it was ok for my feelings of rage and hopelessness to be channeled in that way. I did not need to prove those who challenged me wrong by proving that erasing myself would fix my lot, dammit. I could use my agency instead to tell them to fuck off. I could learn I had the right to validate my own self rather than to bounce in devastating insecurity between the opinions of Supporters and Enemies. And gradually and almost without realizing it, I found that it was not my body that was the problem, it was not my rejection of my body that was the problem, it was what my body meant, what my body supposedly allowed others to do to me, that I was not meaningfully allowed to object to any of this, and that there was a question in society about whether or not there was a me at all alongside the body. My dysphoria had gone inside out, gone color-inverted, I found old angry girl-child change in the upturned pockets of pants I didn't know I was still wearing.

My stumbling block is that I can't believe transition is more justified than a girl looking at her lot and saying: this is a bunch of fucking shit, peace out of this body, peace out of this world. I don't usually use such language, but here I am. My stumbling block is that I can't believe this girl needs her tits cut off more than she needs someone to tell her: I know. My stumbling block will always be that I don't believe the best use of an angry and desperate girl's crushed-but-surviving autonomy is for decision-making about which cosmetic surgery she'll get. My stumbling block will always be the part of me that sees above, the part that sees the twins of my own grief at seeing my body and sees my girlfriend's grief at seeing her scars.

And so a woman is never ruined, wasted, an idiot, ugly, crazy, a freak for choosing hormones or surgery. She is making a bargain. Informed consent goes far beyond understanding the medical consequences of injecting testosterone, of removing breast tissue or the uterus and ovaries; informed consent means understanding the terms of the bargain, that one is making a bargain at all. So long as we frame transition as surviving oneself, whether for reasons of treating a medical condition or simply tolerating the unfortunate condition of not-being-male, we cannot hope to approach informed decision-making for anything about transitioning genders. (How do the medical professions deal with approving the reasonableness of a patriarchal bargain? There is a reason I don't believe they should.)

And so long as critics of transition-- whether conservative or "compassionate" gender critical feminists-- frame the women and girls who are attracted to it as delusional, stupid, spoiled weirdos they will drive both the desire and inability to take responsibility for healing it even deeper. My challenge to you if you fall in this camp is to think harder about your own bargains. If you're straight or bi you've made more of them than any angry asshole with a dirt-stache and blue hair you could possibly meet on Tumblr. If you're a lesbian you've made more than you'll probably want to dig out. It was lesbian collective inability to see their own bargain-making that convinced me I was trans and not just an unfeminine and angry dyke: I wasn't bold, brave, full of pride, always knowing who I was, with every decision I made, including those about the shape and color of my shirts and the branding of my personal care products, always being an authentic expression of who I was meant to be. I mean, if I had to deny my entire life-context to discover what desires were deep inside me beyond my responsibility I hoped they were bigger and grander than wearing flannel and talking about my rubber dick.

Honesty could have only helped me realize that women have it shit and lesbians have it real shit, and we all have to figure out how to deal with it in the end in a way that doesn't keep us up all night. So: what do you have yet to be honest about? How are you dealing with this whole raw deal, anyway? What keeps you up all night, and what have you put to bed, and what's lurking underneath?

My final stumbling block is this: I think telling other women these things is more important than letting us all keep it inside, to our own little private selves, imagining we're surviving so long as we don't reveal exactly how. I think telling other women these things is more important than telling them they can go to some guy with a knife who will take care of it all. Your decision, though.

[okayhcney-blog]

yall!!!! you have no idea how excited i am to be here!! i’m bunny, 23 and i live in the gmt+8 timezone (the shittiest timezone tbh). i go by she/her pronouns, and my god!!!! i have been waiting for this day. so i play johnny, who i cannot wait for everyone to meet -- i did a little digging and research on his background, and decided to expand on it a little which you’ll be able to find the details under the cut!! please excuse how rushed, straight to the point and messy it is omg jhdfilsud. it’s just a few things and i got carried away a little bit so i quickly ended it, but ihsdisuh it’ll do i guess omg.

i can’t wait to read about everyone’s little addition to their characters and to write with everyone. i’ll probably be making my rounds to send everyone a message for plots, but if you’d like to plot, please don’t hesitate to message me or like this and i’ll pop right into your ims. also, i feel like i should warn everyone that i tend to go overboard with hcs when i get too excited so feel free to shut me up whenever!!

{ dacre montgomery / twenty-three / cismale } hey there goes johnny bravo, know mostly from the show johnny bravo. most know them as debonair and exuberant, but some have seen their narcissistic and dull-witted side. they’re a senior here at toon u and are studying sports and fitness management 

johnny bravo grew up not knowing much about his father -- in fact, he doesn’t know who his father is nor has he ever met him. his mother single-handedly raised him up and took care of him; to say that he grew up being a mama’s boy would be a big understatement. growing up, johnny would often ask his mother about his father, wanting to know every detail of him since he has always been quite curious (and gets bullied often for not having a dad) -- but his curiosity eventually settled down after learning how much it would upset his mother. all he knows is that she got pregnant at a young age and that his father left them before he was born. he figured that he didn’t matter then if he meant so little to his father; soon prioritizing his mother’s happiness.

johnny is extremely protective of his filthy rich mother. as stated above, johnny’s a big mama’s boy. the saying “mothers know best” has never been so real for him; by the end of the day, no matter what others has to say, her opinion and thoughts matter to him the most. the fact that his father had managed to hurt and scar his mother after so many years has johnny wanting to protect her from all cruelty -- hence why he’s usually so suspicious and cautious with the men she would bring back for a little bit of fun. johnny’s mother is fortunate enough to be born in a filthy rich ass family where she inherits their money through family businesses -- it’s how she buy her happiness; by spending her money on branded items and throwing her money around on cruises and holidays. this, however, attracts the wrong kind of attention. although johnny respects his mother to no end, and though he doesn’t exactly agree to her messing around and bringing back men who obviously don’t deserve her attention (considering how they’re only in love with her money), he still keeps a good front -- but would low-key interrogate them; though he doesn’t keep it a secret on how much he hates them.

johnny hasn’t always been the confident and narcissistic man he’s known to be. growing up without a father, it grew a lot of speculation around the neighbourhood. his mother had her own reputation, and the fact that she’s filthy rich and has money to spend, she never really cared about johnny. sure, she made sure he was comfortable and had enough to survive, as well as worry about him like a mother should, but she never really made the effort to dive deeper to understand johnny. she only understood and saw johnny the way he wanted to be seen. he would often lie and do things behind her back out of wanting to please her, as well as making her proud since her opinions beat all. which was why he hid the fact that he was a victim of bullying. johnny was bullied a lot in school -- and his mother, of course, knew nothing about this. he figured that his mother had other things to worry about, and with the fear of upsetting his mother, he avoided ever speaking about his father or the problems he’s facing due to not having a dad. he was picked on a hell lot of things; from not having a father, being a disappointment and worthless to being stupid and ugly. it tore him up inside. he was the exact opposite of the man he is currently -- he was lanky and was pretty much the weak boy everyone wouldn’t hesitate to pick on. he wasn’t the slightest bit attractive, he wasn’t confident, he was far from being cool -- he wasn’t anything.

johnny made changes to himself out of wanting to be better. despite being constantly beaten down physically and in terms of self-confidence, johnny was inspired to toughen himself out from watching a series he’d catch every day after school. he decided to toughen himself then -- especially since he’s been quite soft out of the lack of male figures he has in his life. as much as he loves his mother, she influenced him a lot and he had to learn things about his body through the hard way. so he made a change for the better (and maybe because he had a small crush on a girl who’s definitely out of his league) -- he started working out, channelling his strength and focus on sports (since it seems to be the only thing he’s ever good at) to keep himself fit. his aim on chasing after the girl of his dreams, and out of his league started out as motivation but it eventually had him knowing what he wanted. eventually, he restored back confidence and regained his physical appearance. he noticed that girls looked at him differently which sparked and increase his motivation up until he was finally happy with the way he looked -- and he made sure everyone noticed.

underneath that muscular body and confidence, johnny is still deeply insecure. no one really heals from wounds -- especially those that have caused permanent scars. despite his new confidence and how much of a talker he is, johnny still is the insecure small boy who’s insecure about his appearance and every little detail about him. while he’s actually awfully self-conscious about himself, he hides behind his fake and over-the-top confidence and uses it as a defence mechanism.

johnny’s not exactly the brightest person. growing up, johnny was always distracted in class. he couldn’t really explain it but he often finds himself drifting off in class, finding it very difficult to sit still and would often disrupt the class. he would often get into trouble for causing chaos and would be labelled as a problematic child (his mother’s reputation not helping one bit). his mother didn’t take much notice of his behaviour but with him constantly being distracted and not focused, his grades were usually low. in addition, johnny isn’t exactly bright -- though he excels at sports and would channel most of his energy at it. 

[thecrossovergames]

Accepted: Bellamy Blake

because i needed yet another muse

OOC

Name: they call me Hamlet ‘cause i’m so tragic & boring

Age: still younger than all of y’all

Preferred pronoun(s): Dadmin

Activity level: what does this mean

Time Zone: oi oi oi

Limits/Triggers: eating raw onions

Previous Roleplay Accounts: idk her

Additional Characters: i have 3 muses left and they’re all girls, can u swing it

IC Character Name: Bellamy Blake

Character Age & Birthday: 23 / August 14

Character Species*: Human

Character Face Claim*: Bob Morley, my fellow aussie pal

District of Origin: Three

Strengths:

Brave: In such a frightening world, Bellamy always tries his best to be brave, telling himself that fears are just fears, and if he slays his demons when he’s awake, they won’t be there to get him in his sleep. With a younger sister to protect and training on his side, he’s learnt to face his fears head on and keep going no matter what. Even if he’s terrified, he forces himself to deal with it because that’s how he’ll get the job done and done right. He’ll rise to any challenge and often completes them quickly and efficiently. Even arguing with him can be confronting, as Bellamy isn’t one to give up, and will share his honest opinion even if it’s unwanted.

Sharp: A trait he’s likely inherited from his father, Bellamy is extremely intuitive, and actively solves problems by doing. He’s particularly quick on his feet in dangerous situations, and is able to sense when someone or something isn’t right. By following his gut, Bellamy will decide if someone is genuine, and if so, he will support them until his dying breath, even if no one else trusts them. He relies on knowledge and experience from training, and is able to help others do the same; but he’s not opposed to using his skills to manipulate them either. Whatever gets him what he needs.

Moral code: Bellamy has set his own strict moral code that allows him to do necessary and often controversial things all in the name of survival. As a natural born leader who believes in justice, this code is the only way he can avoid stirring up excessive internal conflict, and make decisions on the spot. He is able to recognise when he’s made the wrong call however, and the guilt will always catch up with him later. Bellamy is a man of his word, and will accept all responsibility and punishment for his actions; but that won’t stop him from doing it again if he feels he has to.

Training: For over a year, Bellamy trained alongside a league of Peacekeepers in the Capitol. Working for Voldemort meant he had to be the best of the best or he’d be killed and replaced faster than he could blink. During those months, Bellamy pushed himself to his physical and emotional limit, and can now perform extremely well under pressure and adapt quickly to his environment. Although guns remain his preference, he’s also learned how to handle all sorts of weaponry with a natural ease, and is willing to train others. It’s only fair that everyone should be able to protect themselves.

Weaknesses:

Restrained: Bellamy has always believed that surviving and living are two very different things, and to do either, you have to be two very different people. A lot of things scare him, especially his own actions, but he will never show it because that’s how he overcomes. Even though he feels things deeply, actually expressing emotion is difficult for him, and he will avoid talking about them or himself. While it’s not hard to notice that he cares, he’s much more comfortable showing his affection through leading, protecting and other physical services. By burying his emotions, he survives with the hope that one day, he will live.

Octavia: Bellamy shows great restraint in his emotions except when it comes to his sister, Octavia, who he vowed to protect the moment she was born. His love for her is his most obvious, and his only self-recognised weakness. To make his sister happy, or to protect her, Bell will disregard his own ideas and change plans of action entirely, even if it means endangering others. It can often be selfish, but she’s his only family left and he will do whatever he can to make it up to her. His sister, his responsibility.

Guilt: No matter how hard he tries to justify to himself that he was only doing what he had to, Bellamy carries more guilt than any person should. He believes he’s caused all his family’s pain, and will never forgive himself for it. He was forced to do some questionable things when in training, yet made questionable decisions of his own when they were hiding out in Two. He’s convinced himself the many deaths he’s caused were essential for survival, but the guilt is always close behind. If it reaches him, he can be irrational and easily manipulated. Now a leader for Coin, he’s beginning to understand why the heroes in his favourite stories often forfeited their crowns.

Distrustful: Having been raised in such a strict and hostile environment with only his family for company, Bellamy has taken to second guessing people’s intentions, finding it hard to ever completely trust. He’s compassionate, but he has a selfish side too, his immediate priority always to protect himself and his sister. He trusts his own gut instinct and will form an opinion about something pretty fast; but he can often be wrong. Because it’s extremely hard for him to forgive, he can be prejudiced toward any type of person he hasn’t trusted before. However, if someone does manage to win Bellamy’s trust, his loyalty will be unwavering.

Biography:

Bellamy Blake spent the first five years of his life in District Three, but if you asked him about it now, he couldn’t tell you much. Just that it must have been peaceful, or he would’ve remembered otherwise. Pain is far more memorable, and Bellamy seemed to face a lot of it once they’d moved to the Capitol. He and his mother followed after his father, a recently trained Peacekeeper who’d been transferred from the Nut and hired as a security corporal in Lord Voldemort’s private affairs. Bellamy barely knew the man, and that would never change, as life within the Capitol mansion was extremely strict and family was seen as a distraction. Unless you were a pure-blood wizard, the Dark Lord had a one child policy within his ranks, and held those children’s lives against their parents, ensuring that they remained silent, and that he remained their only priority. Bellamy’s mother, Aurora, continued her job from Three as a seamstress, working right from their room. She was busy, but unlike his father she was always there, and Bellamy grew very close to her. He was tutored privately within the mansion and often brought books back to their room for them to read together, history being his favourite subject. He’d always loved stories of emperors, rebels and kings.

When he was seven, a terrified Aurora explained that she was pregnant, but Bellamy had always been bright, and he understood immediately that this was not news to share. Not that he had anyone to share it with; all of the mansion’s workers scared him. But Aurora had taught him fear was a demon, and he was to look them in the eye and never be afraid. To avoid suspicion, the infrequent visits from his father ceased entirely, and Bellamy never saw the man again. For nine months, the boy worked as Aurora’s assistant, delivering her garments and bringing back supplies, ensuring that she’d never have to leave their room; until finally, she went into labour. Bell’s little sister was born right on their bedroom floor, his near unconscious mother telling him that she was now his responsibility, no matter what. It was as if his life had started anew. Staring into his baby sister’s eyes, finger in her mouth to help keep her quiet, young Bellamy promised that he would always keep her safe. Just like Emperor Augustus would have for his sister, in the books he’d read. His sister, Octavia. Having been taught to never trust anyone in the mansion, Bellamy’s family was the only thing he’d ever known. And from that day onward, family would forever remain his first priority.

To make sure their father wasn’t executed for having a second child, Octavia was forced to live only within their quarters, Bellamy warning she could never step a foot outside their door. Whenever mansion staff visited, Bellamy and their mother would hide O in an old vent under the floorboards. The thought of his little sister being caught and killed scared him senseless, but the fear on Octavia’s face as she lowered herself into the hole each day was much worse, and Bellamy knew he had to be brave for her. He taught her to repeat “I am not afraid” to herself until it was over, something she carried out for sixteen years. Despite her begging, she could never attend school, so Bell would recount every lesson he received at tutoring, and the pair would study together at their mother’s feet. When he was fourteen, he was assigned work in the sanitation unit, despite desperately wanting to be a guard just like his father. Just like the real heroes in his books. His wishes were granted when the Rebellion broke out, reaching the mansion post haste.

Everything changed quickly after that. The Blakes were told their father died ‘during conflict’, and a shaken Bellamy was conscripted immediately to train and take his place. Grief for his father didn’t last long though, and he also had no interest in defending a leader that had always terrified him. It wasn’t until Bellamy discovered the advantages of his new position that he got into the role and the responsibility, training hard. By using his new security clearance, he was able to find out when staff would be visiting their quarters. Security was much tighter thanks to the Rebels though, and after many close calls for Octavia, Aurora took to sleeping with guards to gain intel herself. This lasted for months, until eventually, some Rebels were caught by Voldemort and his team, and the mansion hosted a televised event where captives could be bid on. As part of training field experience, Bellamy was on duty, and to take his mind off the discomfort of the evening, he decided to surprise O for her sixteenth birthday. The formal dress code made it easy to sneak her in, and for the first time ever, Octavia stepped out of their room. Despite the horrors around them, her smile that night was something Bellamy will never forget. His only mistake was not telling her who the Rebels were, and why there was even a ‘party’ in the first place. An excited Octavia spoke to the wrong crowd and was approached by guards immediately. Shaking, Bellamy stepped in, claiming she had to be a clueless plus one; but she refused to identify herself and was dragged off for questioning.

Their mother was executed immediately. A screaming Octavia was taken away to the cells, and Bellamy was left with nothing and no one but his own guilt. Shattered and demoted back to sanitation, Bellamy kept his head down for a year — until an opportunity arose for them to escape. He still had some connections within security, and as the Rebels destroyed Voldemort’s horcruxes one by one, those contacts managed to get O out of prison, and the siblings out the gates. The guarding Capitol Peacekeepers were another matter, but Bellamy dealtwith them quickly and quietly. The Blakes then fled to District Two and attempted to deal with their grief in an abandoned house, training and waiting as the rebellion swallowed Voldemort whole. The new world rose, and Coin was so promising, and the siblings were so relieved that with no other skills, Bellamy broke his own promise to never return to that mansion, and the pair gave the new President their support. Now working back in an all too familiar environment, Octavia is in training while Bellamy oversees the President’s recruits and their schedules. The Rebels, who’d Bellamy once looked at with such respect, had betrayed them and risked their new, free Panem. Imprisoning the traitors seemed fair, just while Coin works to create a better place for them all. But the longer Bellamy spends meeting terrified gazes through the bars, the more he starts to question their fearless leader’s motives. He’s now beginning to wonder just how well they really know Alma Coin.

Changes/Comments:

remember when voldemort was our biggest problem

[adultingrpg-blog]

KATE has been accepted as LUNA VALDEZ. **This is just a sample application.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

NAME: Kate. AGE: 23. TELL US SOMETHING ABOUT YOU: i’m lame af honestly TIMEZONE: EST. ACTIVITY LEVEL: 7-8/10. I work, and I occasionally go out with friends or family. But that’s about it. I don’t have much of a life, so I’ll be around a good chunk of time! PRONOUNS: She/her. SHIPS: /chem. ANTI-SHIPS: /forced.

IN CHARACTER.

DESIRED CHARACTER: Luna Isabel Valdez. SONG: Bad At Love - Halsey. NICKNAMES: Lu, Looney, Valdez, anything else. HOMETOWN: Las Vegas, Nevada. FAMILY DETAILS: Original character. FACECLAIM: Eiza Gonzalez. DATE OF BIRTH/AGE: January 11th, 1994 / 23. GENDER IDENTITY/PRONOUNS: Cis-female, she/her/hers. SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Heterosexual bi-romantic. OCCUPATION/EDUCATION: Currently strips at a club called Lucky’s while attending The University of Chicago Law School. APARTMENT CHOICE: Grand Court.

A LITTLE MORE.

Since Luna was little she always wanted to be a superhero for latinx people just like herself – which is why she decided to become a lawyer. To fight for them and help them live the best lives they could. Only because she’s been fairly lucky with the life she has.

While Luna might not exactly be a people person, she is a cat person. She adopted a cat when she moved to Chicago, his name is Devil and he lives by his name.

Growing up Luna actually didn’t like her name, until Jasmine talked about how beautiful the moon was, and she decided her name wasn’t so bad after all.

THREE NEGATIVE TRAITS: Blunt, stubborn, wary.

THREE POSITIVE TRAITS: Hardworking, outgoing, adventurous.

NETWORKING.

@MOONBABE: i don’t think anyone has been more ashamed than my doctor when i admitted i eat hot cheetos for breakfast like…everyday

@MOONBABE: "do you need a full face of makeup to go grocery shopping?” [photo]

TEXT TO [BOY TOY]: i’m bored. delete my number. :)

LAST 4 EMOJIS: 🌮 🌙 🖕 🔥

BACKSTORY.

** TW UNDERAGE DRINKING, DRUNK DRIVING, CAR CRASH, MENTIONS OF BIPHOBIA, DEATH **

Luna Isabel Valdez was born in San Ángel, a relatively small city in Mexico. She doesn’t remember anything from living there, mostly because she was two when her parents took her and her sibling to America – hoping they could find better work and give their children a better life. That wasn’t exactly the case when they got there, sure they got lots of work but it was constantly odd jobs that paid okay and at the end of the day it was still barely scraping it for an undocumented family of four.

Luna grew up watching her parents go through hell to raise them, watching her father leave for weeks at a time to go to better paying jobs and watching her mother cry at night because it was so much stress and who knew if he’d make it back. It didn’t exactly help that Luna was the problematic child growing up. There wasn’t really a reason why she acted out and was the wild child, she just was. It was who she was as a person. She constantly wanted all eyes on her and would do anything she had to do to get it. Dancing, singing, doing things she shouldn’t in class. Luna was just constantly bored – that was her answer for why she acted out. But that all changed when a best friend came into the picture.

Luna met Jasmine in the third grade and they instantly became best friends. And while Luna was still a little mischievous, Jasmine was always the level headed one who tried to keep her out of trouble. They were inseparable, honestly. Wherever Luna was, Jasmine was right by her. And vise versa. They had sleepovers every weekend, called each other on the phone almost every night even if they had just seen each other that day, helped each other with outfits, homework, talked about boys. Luna finally had someone who understood what it was like to be different, her being Mexican as well. They had each other for everything. So it wasn’t a surprise when in the 8th grade, while sitting on the porch swing of Jasmine’s house – Jasmine came out to Luna as gay. She liked girls, and had known for a long time. Luna was the first and only person she ever came out to.

Of course Luna accepted her for who she was, no matter what. They were best friends, and Luna would have accepted anybody who was different – especially her best friend. Learning more about sexuality, had Luna thinking a lot about it. The idea started to play in her head that she could be with a girl, maybe. That if they were the right person, and she felt good with them – she could date them. And that was true. She started to imagine herself with her closest girl friends, wondering what it would be like to kiss them, and date them. The one person she thought about that the most with, of course, was Jasmine. And as more time went on, she realized more that she did like guys, and was attracted to them. But if she got to know a girl well enough, she felt the same way she did for guys.

Soon enough, Luna found herself thinking about Jasmine as more than a friend. And that soon turned into a confusing crush that until the tenth grade, had her completely confused about it. During a sleepover one night, Luna confided in Jasmine about how she was feeling. About her sexuality. And she also confessed that she was sure she had feelings for her. She was relieved that Jasmine actually felt the same way. They started secretly dating, since to everyone else they were still in the closet.

It was easy to get away with, seeing as they were best friends and had been long before this ever happened. They were happy, and they were in love. And it was easy for them, as it got closer to them graduating school to plan a future together. To go off to college together, get married, have kids. It was something they wanted badly. But it never happened. The summer after they graduated high school, they had gone to a party to celebrate their new freedom. They had both been drinking, and somewhere along the way – a fight happened. Luna to this day doesn’t really know what it was about, not fully. All she remembers was talking to a classmate and Jasmine getting jealous, and Luna getting defensive and saying she didn’t need to be because she loved her.

It had drawn enough attention that Jasmine panicked and left, saying she was fine to drive even though she clearly wasn’t. Jasmine was supposed to be the level headed one, so Luna let her go – which she still regrets. Luna got a ride home, and was hoping that she’d get a call from her girlfriend once she got back. She was too caught up in her head, upset, that she didn’t even think twice as she saw the ambulances and police racing down the road. But as she drove up her driveway to her parents waiting for her, she knew something was wrong. And her world came crumbling down around her. Jasmine ran a red light, causing an accident – the person in the other car somehow survived, but Jasmine, didn’t.

Between what happened at the party, and Jasmine dying, it forced Luna out of the closet she was so comfortable living in. Most were okay with it, they lived in Las Vegas for crying out loud. But also some weren’t, like her parents. They never outright said anything, because they did love her and how do you tell your daughter you’re ashamed of them when they just lost the person they loved? But they did quietly disagree – which sometimes, Luna thought was worse.

It took a little while for Luna to get back into the swing of dating, Jasmine had been her first relationship and it had been secret. And it had obviously ended horribly. But since then she has dated and seen a good amount of people, but nothing has really ever lasted. She either goes for people who only end up hurting her – or she ends up hurting them. It was easy with Jasmine, with others it’s not. And Luna isn’t a perfect person, she knows that. And can own up to the fact she doesn’t think she could be in a serious relationship because she’ll end up fucking it up if they don’t first.

Luna took a much needed year off before college, needing the time to mourn and also to save up for college. She wanted to become a lawyer, and she knew it would be expensive with her parents not having the money to send her to college. So when Luna was accepted into The University of Chicago, the second she got there she started looking for anything that made decent enough money to support her while she got her education. That’s when she stumbled upon a strip club called Lucky’s. She’s not ashamed that she works there, in fact, she’s happy with the money she makes there. If she wasn’t so determined to become a lawyer, she probably would just continue to do that.

Since graduating, Luna is now attending the law school at The University of Chicago. She’s working hard to make her parents proud, and working hard to be the person she’s supposed to be. Even if that doesn’t come easy for her. She’s struggling just trying to make it as a young adult off on her own. But she hopes that one day she’ll be where she needs to be.

[salty-dracon]

AUAU- Brooke’s partner

Brooke introduces Julien to her brother Grey, but Julien doesn’t understand why Brooke wants to keep the implication that they’re dating out of the picture.

Brooke’s phone vibrated. She picked it up. “Shit, Grey wants to pick me up.”

“Tell him you’ll be fine on your own.“ Julien yawned and leaned against Brooke. “How old’s he again?“

“Thirty.“

“He could be your dad.“

“He’s my brother, and he was twelve when I was born.“

“Right, right. You know, I’ve never met him. You keep talking about how he’s a fucking psychopath, but, like, what if he’s cool?“ Julien giggled. “Like, hot. Aw man, you know how many girls here want daddies?“

“I meant that, Jule. He’s... actually insane.“

“Oh really? What does he do?”

“Forget it, you’re not gonna believe it.”

“No, I wanna hear it! What’s he like?” Julien’s eyes lit up. “Is he hypersexual? Um, does he torture animals? Uh... ” Their face fell. “Does he hurt you?”

“He’s... it’s hard to explain.” Brooke picked up her phone again. “He’s already here. Dammit.”

“Fuck. Can we meet him, then?”

“Sure, why not?”

Julien followed Brooke to the front of the building, where an old blue Camry was waiting for them. Grey, a man with golden hair, waved to Brooke. 

“That’s him.” Brooke motioned to her brother. “Come on.”

“How was school?” he asked as they climbed into the backseat. “Everything work out fine?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Brooke avoided returning his eye contact.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Enbyfriend.” Julien interjected.

“Jule!” Brooke hissed. “Yeah, they’re nonbinary. Um-“

“Grey, right?” Julien asked. “I’ve heard so much. You’re like, super rich, right?“

“In a way. Um, what’s your name?“

“Julien. They/them pronouns.“

“Julien. Oh, so you’re the girl Brooke talks about. Her friend from her classes.“

“Yeah. And you’re-“

“Jule.“

“-the guidance counselor at the prestigious Alder Creek Academy, home to some of the most intelligent students in the entire country.“

“Yeah. I mean, it’s... um... “

Brooke took a small breath of relief and then leaned against the back of the seat. “I’m tired.”

“We can head straight home then. Does your, um, friend want to come with?“

“Of course I do!“ Julien shook Brooke’s arm and flashed their teeth. “I know just how to cheer her up!“

Grey laughed and pressed his foot against the accelerator. “Do you need anything, Julien?”

“Nope.“

“Understood.“ He began the drive home.

When Grey was sufficiently focused on driving, Brooke leaned over and whispered in Julien’s ear. “Don’t tell him you’re my enbyfriend. Please.”

“Why not?!“ Julien complained. “You said your parents wouldn’t throw you out for it, and ACA’s a pretty liberal school.“

“That’s not the problem.“

Julien smiled teasingly. “Does he loooooove you too much?“

“Don’t make it sound so... stupid. Listen, you don’t understand. Grey is-“

“Is everything all right back there, girls?“ Grey asked. 

“Yeah.“ Julien said. “We’re just chattin’.“

“All right. Julien, you’re a senior like Brooke, right? What are you majoring in?“

“Literature.“

“Literature? Are you planning to become an English teacher?“

“Nope! A librarian.“

“Interesting.“

Brooke sighed. Grey caught her bored expression in the back mirror and smiled briefly at her before turning his attention back to the road.

-------

“Julien, hello again!“ Brooke’s father served her two snickerdoodle cookies on a plate. “Are you helping each other with homework again, or are you just hanging out?“

“They do this regularly?“ Grey asked. 

“Brooke’s never told you about Julien?“ His father raised one eyebrow. “They’re always hanging out in her bedroom. Watching movies and stuff. They’ve even got this, uh, circle thing in the backyard. I don’t know what the hell they do out there, I just tell them to stay safe, not ruin my garden, and be careful with the matches. They’ve- Julien, I mean- they’ve been friends with Brooke since junior year.“

Grey stared at his father in utter confusion as he walked up the stairs. He sighed, and then walked over to the TV and turned on the news.

“Dude, holy shit.“ Julien slammed their hands out on the table. “I need to tell you about this shitty cop show I was watching last night.“

“What?“ Brooke asked.

“Yeah. Like, god, you know how much I hate cop shows. But the whole thing with that is that, you know, no one’s a lesbian for anything other than narrative purposes! It’s like, surprise! Like, dude, I just want it to be normal, y’know?“

“Yeah, I get it.“

“Like, there were these two lesbians who were dating, and... they kind of made a big deal out of it, where I’m like... no, I want two girls dating to be normal! And then there was the whole enby thing in the episode too, where they were like, disguising themselves as a guy or a girl and it helped them commit crimes and shit. It was so dumb.“

Brooke nodded. “I can imagine. Like, I’ve seen enough Law and Order to be familiar with all the stuff about every black guy being suspicious of the police.”

Julien stared at Brooke with a frown on her face. 

“What?“

“Girlfriend? Enby?“

“... Jule... “

Grey unmuted the TV. 

-------

“Are you sure you can walk all that way?“ Brooke asked. “It’s like, two miles down the road-“

“Yeah, bitch, it’s fine!“ Julien stretched and hugged Brooke. “Tomorrow’s Saturday, so pick me up, ‘kay?“

“Yeah, we can work on that history project.“

“Sweet.“ Julien waved to Brooke before running down the main road. “Bye!“

Brooke waved wistfully. Grey watched her, a stern look in his eyes.

“Brooke,“ he whispered in her ear. “Come to my room.“

“Why?“ Brooke protested. 

He silently pulled her into his room, where he laid down on the bed. Brooke sat in his leather chair.

“Enbyfriend?“ he whispered. “You never told me you were dating someone. Frankly, I’m disappointed in you.”

“Is it wrong for me to have an- to date someone?“

“Yes.“ Grey sighed. “You know how I feel about people like that. I mean, just look at that person. Snake tattoos, dyed hair, that risque personality... They probably worship hell and conjure demons and... what I’m trying to say is that they’ll hurt you. They’ll turn you away from... you know.“ He stood up. “Look past that... enby. Break up with them. I don’t care-“

“Why would I do that?!“ Brooke exclaimed, her face turning red from anger. 

“Because I asked you to. Because I know what’s best for you. Don’t you get it? We’re... “ He groaned and stood up. “We’re not like other people. The two of us have a destiny to fulfill. And while I’m maintaining faith to my duty, you’re off with this... enby, and... Brooke, I don’t know what the hell you see in Julien, but she’s... they’re destined to die just like the rest of them.” He leaned over Brooke and touched her chin. “If you love them so much, do it in a way that lets you fulfill your duty. I’m sure Julien won’t notice a little accident on the lakeside until it’s too late.”

“Shut up!“

“Shhhhhhh.“

“You’re just jealous of us!“

“I know. I’m very jealous. My baby sister loves this... enby more than she loves her own brother. How heartbreaking for me.“ He pressed his lips against her ear. “I dream of thee at night, Brooke. I dream of covering thy soft, gentle body in kisses of pure love. I dream of thee cuddling on my breast, begging for thy brother’s protection-“

“Stop.“ 

Grey moved away. When Brooke finally had the courage to look up at his face, she saw that he was blushing.

“My feelings for you are beyond anything I’ve ever felt, dear sister.“ He pressed his hand against hers. “We’ll unite in heaven. The angels will welcome us together. My love is so pure, Brooke, can’t you feel it? We are of the same soul. I love my baby sister. I want to hold her like when she was so tiny. I want her to laugh at my jokes again, and smile into my eyes-“

“You’re fucking twisted. Leave me alone.“ Brooke stormed out of Grey’s room and threw herself into her own, locking the door behind her and covering herself in her bedsheets.

“Brooke? Brooke?“ 

She heard Grey knocking on the door. “Go away!” she screamed, throwing a pillow. Grey was silent afterwards. A few seconds later, she heard his footsteps receding.

(AN: In the AUAU, Grey is thirty, and the guidance counselor of Alder Creek Academy. He is Brooke’s older sister. While at first glance he seems like a very kind, passionate, and professional man, he has a secret. He has a messiah complex, which stemmed from a series of vivid dreams he started having when he was around ten years old. Grey believes that he will save mankind by killing every person on earth (or forcing them to kill themselves, thus sending them to heaven). He projects this complex onto Brooke, who he believes is his partner in doing so. While Brooke wanted nothing to do with him ever since she learned about his messiah complex, Grey maintains his obsession with the idea that Brooke will help “save” humanity. He especially misses the feeling of being her big brother, watching her grow up, and protecting her, especially once he went off to college to pursue a master’s degree. He does not lust after her, but is still nostalgic for the days when she was a baby.

Brooke is eighteen, and a high school senior. She’s your average girl, except she has an obsession with the outdoors, especially survivalism. She loves shows like Man vs Wild and Survivor, and is also obsessed with apocalypse prepping. She’s always training in the woods, going camping in her backyard, and learning how to run in high heels. Like in TMX/Feathers, she starts dating Julien, who is genderfluid and a loudmouth with a heart of gold, and befriends Arthur, who is shy and prefers reading to socializing. Grey doesn’t like either of them, as he believes that both of them make her stray from her “duty”.)

[alltheworldsrpg-blog]

WELCOME TO ROSWELL, ALEXANDER TALION!!

ADMIN CAMERON: Latin puns and assassins, how’d you guess all of Ais and I’s favorite things? Still, the jaw-dropping part of Lex is his backstory, how vividly it paints a picture of what life was like on GJ 273b. It takes from our world-building and adds even more, it all blends so seamlessly together. I can’t wait to see how Lex makes a splash in this little pond.

You’ve been accepted as THE PHOTON with the faceclaim of HARRY SHUM JR. Please follow all rules and regulations as laid out by the Roswell Town Council, especially concerning any non pre-approved biologic. All UFO’s outside of city limits must be stickered or will be towed. Enjoy your stay in the first city of extraterrestrials.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

NAME/ALIAS + PRONOUNS:

Bah, They/Them

AGE:

23 springs

TIMEZONE + ACTIVITY:

GMT - 3

TRIGGERS:

Removed for privacy

ANYTHING ELSE?:

Oooookay so.

This is a generally heavy app so you guys may wanna consider this as a huge content/trigger warning for violence, assault, battery, transphobia, etc etc. I don’t think there’s anything too explicit but still. Also generally speaking I have all intentions of playing this character as a heavy subject.

IN CHARACTER.

SKELETON TITLE:

The Photon

FULL NAME:

(Name) Alexander Talion

Meaning The Law of Talion or Eye for an Eye, he chose the name in order to stay the persona he created away from his real and dead identity. Using human names such as to keep his Luytan origins untouched, inspired by the human-originated term written in the Code of Hammurabi and in a passage in Leviticus that states, “And a man who injures his countryman – as he has done, so it shall be done to him [namely,] fracture for fracture, eye for eye, tooth for tooth. Just as he has injured a person, so it shall be done to him.” The choice of the name ‘Alexander’ was just so it wouldn’t be so outstandingly obvious the reference to the latin form of the word ‘law’, as Lex.

(Formerly) Alioth de Merak

Meaning The Merak family was an old one from Luytan, with the entirety of their names based from the gathering of the Ursa Major and Minor constellations, the main family used to be named after Major and the extended family after Minor. Merak being the name of the Beta star of the Ursa Major and Alioth the brightest star of the constellation, (from Epsilon Ursa Major).

[See headcanons for more on the Merak]

GENDER + PRONOUNS:

Transgender Male, He/Him

*by earthlings standards

SEXUAL + ROMANTIC ORIENTATION:

Confused, mostly unsure

(That’s me saying I don’t have that established and I’m sorry, it’s in development.)

DATE OF BIRTH + AGE:

2025, 35 Earth years

OCCUPATION:

Former

Bioengineer for the SpaceX / NASA / Luytan Government alliance  

Officially now

Various business Shareholder, Farmer

Off The Books

Accidental mob boss and assassin, doesn’t really care

FACECLAIM:

Harry Shum Jr.

BIOGRAPHY:

You were born Alioth de Merak, the only biological child to a dwindling family – to parents who thought they’d never conceive. Though they had adopted a child before you were born, your mother and father were old-fashioned, carrying on the bloodlines matter and old-fashioned conception way of thinking, as if the De Merak blood had any special properties. Sure many were born smart and you were no different – called a genius among the smart ones, couldn’t even say even before you knew your name because you knew your name eight months after you were born, and before you were a year old you could talk in whole sentences and notice the world around.

You were born Alioth De Merak and you never felt comfortable in your skin, unsure if because of how the mirror looked back at you with analytical eyes or if because the planet’s temperature was too high as the wastelands invaded the edges around the good lands. If it was because some days stepping outside was a suicide attempt, if it was because your brother looked so different from you, with kinder hands and soft eyes and in the back of your mind, from the moment you understood consciousness, was unquiet. Your mind was always too loud, too expansive and early your parents taught you how to channel that into doing good, turning that creative energy and loud voice into knowledge and into things that would help save your poor, hot planet. Whatever was left of your family, didn’t want to leave the planet for Earth and that was fine, you’d always love GJ 237B hellish twilight sky line.

You couldn’t save your parents, however.

(Down the line you would learn you can never save anyone.)

You couldn’t understand, sure you’re a genius but at age seven no one can understand how their equally smart parents don’t return home before the sandstorm. Humans called it sand because there was something similar on Earth but you know it’s not a sandstorm when you explain it to them a few years later. Glass shards, hard as steel made of the deadly combination between the open desert and hydrogen-based explosions triggered by lightning storms. With the growing desert encroaching, it was only a matter of time until the wasteland swallowed the outside ring abandoned cities because of the Exodus.

It’s the first time you blame Humans and resents Earth for something. You know, logically of course, they did nothing to take your parents away from you. But had it not been their green-and-blue planet, maybe the others would have stayed. Maybe they would be there with what’s left of your people and try and save your dying planet.

But logically, that’s stupid and impossible. Your red star will soon consume GJ 237B – and in the process probably take whatever’s left of the galaxy with it as the planet’s core will collide with the dying star’s. The very idea fascinates you but it’s a silly thing, a mere curiosity. You know what Supernovas and Black holes look like, you have diagrams and holos and simulations and enough material to see it in your sleep. But you’re not a physicist and while the universe is your mind’s safe haven, the things you really love still remains down on the ground. Your brother, your people, life itself.

You have no Gods but you grow up believing in the Universe as an entity and life as its ultimate creation – everything is connected, your dying planet to birthing planets, your old star to Earth’s baby one, everything means something elsewhere. It’s no mistake some poetry talks about being made of stardust, there’s truth beneath it. So you study and study and study, and you fall asleep on top of your books as you fight to find ways to save at least the legacy of your planet. You know soon enough you’ll have to leave for Earth, not now that even in the Inner Ring cities the sandstorms started to reach. You’re eighteen human years when you’re almost caught out in a sandstorm because of your own stupid distraction and a gate malfunction. You finally understand your parents.

The sight is terrifying but you’re amazed at the power of creation.

(But you survive, not knowing how after being almost skinned and burned alive.

Your body takes weeks to recover even with the genysis recreator putting skin back on you.)

Your brother doesn’t understand. Of course he doesn’t understand – it’s not in their nature. Much more passionate, much less patient and being the one responsible for you and by proxy the Luytan legacy, they don’t take it. They finally take you to Earth. You’re scared, terrified even. Hiding behind data pads and books, screens and hiding inside your dimly lit room, you have never been the most… sociable of your kind. You’re afraid. Earth had infinity possibilities but Humans were wildcards, despite the only one you knew. But your brother holds your hand and everything is alright. You got each other’s back, you’re not alone and you’ll meet family and friends again. If everything goes wrong you can always go back right?

(“Well, you can always just fling yourself into Luyten, why not?” You laugh – you don’t know but that’ll be the most cherished memory you’ll keep of your brother.)

The moment you step on earth, you realize life will never be the same, you realize this planet is also a paradise compared to your dying little one and that humans have so much. You’re shy and awkward but optimistic. You have a universe of possibilities in front of you. You can save Luytan’s legacy and have more. You can save your people, you can feel the Universe’s connection – Earth is filled with energy. So you learn of Gaia and the Mother Earth theory, the same you thought back home. You’re young and people mistreat you, well, mostly humans mistreat you of course.

But you give them the benefit of the doubt, they’re an underdeveloped species, they’re rough and almost primitive in their ways of being and thinking, a young civilization in general. They look at you and compare you to a little girl, as to which you’re neither – you don’t realize for a long time that it’s meant to be insulting, you blame it on their underdeveloped brains. They fail to pronounce your earth-translated name, they call you Alice, they call you little because you haven’t even reached nineteen of their orbital cycles and apparently that deems you an infant in their eyes.

(Eventually you find out Alice in Wonderland, it’s a good book but you fail to see the similarities between yourself and a little human girl from the nineteenth century.) Your brother isn’t in their scientist team, he is a wonderful diplomat, someone with a good temper who’s also capable of reasoning with your own stoic and considered-cold people. You cling to them desperately and they hold you back. You have a stronghold and while humans may have a hard time dealing with someone like you – a genius among geniuses, a newcomer from Luytan, you know you can do this.

You hope you’ll win their hearts with what you got, your creations, six years’ worth of your labour – so you present them with the Metaflora you’ve created in the hopes of sustaining life in your doomed planet. Luytan’s unstable temperatures slowly destroyed everything that was not always indoors and in controlled ambiance, but here on Earth you show them how to adapt every kind of plant’s genetic code so it adapts to a changing environment. It’s not magic, it’s not perfect but you’re young and you have a lifetime to study Earth’s beings. With Earth’s compendium of knowledge, you join in with everything you managed to salvage from Luytan, genetic codes and inventions, living samples that travelled lightyears with you.

You study their fauna and flora obsessively, amazed by their perfect planet, beautiful and thriving with life. Sure, it’s a little bumped around the edges, sure it could’ve been treated with more… care, but you know it’s a matter of teaching them. You make for your own people and humans the adaptable genetic lenses so they can see in the light and you can see in the dark, based in their own animals – bats and cats, deep-sea fish you’re fascinated by and so many others.

Six years working with humans and you haven’t made many friends, it’s hard, humans are oddly emotional and unpredictable. For regular Luytan it was hard work to connect properly with a human but for someone like you, it’s what they call a herculean effort. You don’t understand them, it’s fascinating from a studying point of view, not so much for your loneliness. It doesn’t matter, you have your brother, the knowledge of many different planets and you don’t need much more. You’re not happy but you’re not particularly miserable either, some days are harder than others but if there’s something you remember from your home planet is that emotions are background noise for when you have a  job to do towards the greater good.

You’re not a fortune teller so you don’t see it coming.

An exact month before your twentieth-fifth birthday and you walk home from work, it’s weird when the doorknob is loose and the door is hanging off the hinges. For a genius, you act pretty dumb as you walk right into the living room to find the house a mess, objects thrown and broken. You stand there dumbfounded and scared, a blood splatter over the couch tells you this is all very real. Terrified and lost you reach out to both Luytan and Earth authorities, you can’t reach your brother and it scares you so much.

A long-removed cousin takes you in their house in Roswell, New Mexico as your own apartment turns into a crime scene. You can’t sleep or eat properly; your hands shake and you can’t focus on anything work-related as your brother is missing for two whole weeks until he’s found. Beaten, bruised and with no memories of what had passed, all they know is that he’s found in a second crime scene with a bloody knife and a slashed body. Luytan authorities wash their hands off your brother, technicalities be damned as you realize they can’t do anything to help him because they’re dependant on Earth’s government and public relations. You’re national news, they accuse your brother of so many crimes at once it makes your head spin– first and second degree murder, arson and so on. You sit through many interrogatories, double-sided windows, bright lights pulled on your face. And you just can’t understand what’s going on.

In the end they charge your brother with murder, using very flimsy evidences and he’s locked away, for life without parole. It’s a gesture from your government to the American government, they bow their heads and don’t fight for your brother because they’re foreigners in strange lands after all. You sit through your brother’s trial as if it were a silent show, you stare forward as you feel like your heart sink to your stomach.

You have lost everything.

You have lost your family, your name, your planet, you have lost your inventions in the fine print of a contract you weren’t even aware that you had signed (a meaningless sum of money given to you); stolen away by humans and used to wage war on others, rather than to make the world a better place as they were meant to be. You have lost your history and your dignity as cameras flash in front of your face as you walk out of court, you have lost everything.

Before they drag your brother away you snap out of your stupefied pain and cry out, they’re wrong, you know they’re wrong, of course they must be wrong. You know someone framed your brother, you don’t know why or what for but you just know it. You’re held back by a bunch of guards from your own people. You’re not as emotionless as everyone painted you to be.

They take you to a facility, somewhere quiet with sterile walls that is not home, they say you’re in shock, distressed, say that you’re not dealing well with the planet change, work overload and your brother’s situation so they put you away. The press finally allows the story to die and you fall into a dark, depressed stupor, wasting away in a room most of your days. Three weeks later someone, not a human but a Centaurian that worked in the… place they’d put you in, the Centaurian comes and takes you to see your brother finally. But instead of your beloved sibling, all you find is a stranger wearing his skin, hollow eyes and empty words. Leaving the prison, the void and pain in your chest turn to anger, grief and a kind of disgust that you can’t turn away from.

You blame mankind for everything. Alioth De Merak dies that very afternoon as you set fire to your room and leave everything behind. This world would be perfect if Mankind wasn’t a plague on it’s own. You finally understand, in the same way this wretched species cannibalized its homo neanderthalensis ancestor, it’s about time they disappear, too.  

You wander away in your anger and hatred but you take pride in being much smarter than they are. You don’t give yourself a new identity right away, you’re no one, a ghost, someone neither here nor there as you travel around. But in your path you meet those like you, extra-terrestrials who had been wronged in unforgivable ways and even humans who had nothing else to lose because of their own kind. You’re not charming, you’re not nice but some people stick with you as your words reason with them. Later on, one of them helps you forge a new identity so you don’t have to be yourself, but an idea. Ideas are bulletproof. You’re not a person, not a being – you’re a whole concept.

Word on the wind about the council reaches you a whole year before it’s even confirmed so you know this is your chance. You take off to Roswell, buy a nice property in the city’s outward just to busy yourself with. You have waited so long, this is nothing in comparison to what you’ll do to them.

MUSING + HEAD-CANONS.

HEAD-CANONS:

[olly olly oxen free.]

Lex has never asked for anyone to follow him and doesn’t quite understand how he could have possibly warranted such an odd gathering of followers, but they’re there, coming and going anyway, willing to do whatever it takes. Alright, maybe he does understand what a deep want for vengeance and being badly wronged does for someone. The gathering of those who are backing his ideals is a wide range and most of them are extra-terrestrials, though sure he’s willing to endure the eventual earthling around, they better be very, very careful. He has never demanded or aimed to be in such a position but they put him there, either for his words, either for his ideals or either for the violence he’s not afraid to perpetrate, whatever it is, these people are his own and while he doesn’t care for having any kind of support in his quest for revenge on the entirety of humankind, he’s not blind to those who are behind him. In the farmhouse he’s bought and flipped to stay in Roswell, often Lex meets with his odd gathering of wronged people and society dropouts - he has never cared for making it so any kind of organization but in a homage to the Earth outlaws of the 17th century, he named his own closer circle of criminals the Court of Miracles. “Everyone lived in great licentiousness; no one had faith or law and baptism, marriage and the sacraments were unknown.”

[dear old house that i grew up in.] Despite being left with practically nothing in regards of family and support, the one thing the De Merak family had and the one thing Lex was left with, was money, something he never really truly cared for. Material beings were never top of his priority, considering he was raised in Luytan and riches were only a collateral effect of his family’s work towards the good of their society. But upon coming to Earth, as primitive societies go, he realized money was the ultimate word when it came to Humans. Before Alioth De Merak “died”, he transferred all of his money to an offshore saving account and forgot about it until it was relevant to his interests again - in the long run that money would mean something regards his vengeance. Crazy, yes, stupid, never.  In the past three years he slowly invested that money into destabilizing most of the American stock market and then buying shares in important companies, mostly either through those who decided to follow him or as an anonymous shareholder.

[runs in the family.] The De Merak family was a noble one back in Luytan, old blood, old money, old name and a pride that no other family could rival. Having married a few of their own members into the royalty back then, though their prestige came mostly from truly outstanding members in the scientific fields, making Alioth simply the last one of a long line. With a tradition of being environmental scientists or genetic engineers, plenty of the De Merak members pushed the Luytan exodus as far as they could but they still couldn’t save a planet. In the end the family dwindled away, due to unexpected deaths and a genetic flaw that they could not correct, slowly the family member’s ability of naturally biologically reproduce became compromised and they were too proud to recur to the artificial wombs or insemination methods. The prior generations to Alioth’s birth mostly were marked by difficulties, few births and a senseless pride that ended with the family accepting their legacy would die within their planet. Alioth was raised uncaring about money or status since the royals weren’t even in the planet any longer, the family was decadent by all means and only the knowledge the name came with still meant something.

[in my mind.] Because of his Luytan origins, Lex was always finely tuned with his own feelings and emotions, even more so than what could be considered regular, with a highly antisocial behavior (to a Luytan) due to a mix of shyness and anxiety. The problem started right after his parents’ loss, then the sandstorm incident and so on - what was merely mild anxiety turned into Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The mental breakdown right after his brother’s imprisonment resulted into a heavy case of Borderline Personality Disorder triggered by Psychosis resulting from the PTSD -  said set of symptoms are exactly what fuelled his rage, hatred and put him on the path for revenge. Lex has some days better than others, generally being fairly emotionless and inexpressive as a Luytan, which disguises his lasting shyness, most of his days he’s calm and collected enough to be reasoned with though certain symptoms such as paranoia, never really go away. But not all of the days are good days. There are some days it’s  just the psychosis, whether hallucinations or delusions, there are some days it’s not only the psychosis but the bolts of violence he can not control. Or soul crushing depression, a stupor he can’t crawl out from, dissociation or triggering flashbacks. The impulsive, aggressive and violent parts of his personality are exactly what caused many to follow him and what caused him to be feared in his own right.

[provanity.] Before his brother’s imprisonment and his own subsequent mental breakdown, Lex was never one to care about appearances or looks. His people didn’t have any expectations towards how he presented himself - as long as he said he was male, they accepted him as such. But Earth was different and while he had his brother by his side and lived within the Luytan community, he didn’t pay it (much) attention. That changed when Alioth died and Alexander was brought to life. He physically started his transition a few years later, staying in a Canadian town for the whole of two years while undergoing the hardest part of the process. In order to be someone else, a complete different person than he was before, he also values his looks heavily and puts effort on them, much different from the uncaring shy scientist he presented as before.

(Now this is a very subjective headcanon and for admin approval/open to changes. I know the sibling character is so far an NPC but I don’t know if the admins will have any plans to change that so I left it as open as possible!)

[do you swear to tell the truth the whole truth and nothing but the truth so.] Lex’s brother isn’t Luytan by birth - he was supposedly an experiment, in a way. He’s from earth, human in nature and was adopted by Lex’s parents that were among the first Luytan to get in touch with Earth. As scientists they were, with no intention to stay in the blue planet for long, the couple took up on the newborn child from an orphanage and when he was a year old, they decided to return and raise him. Though the original intent was obviously an experiment - would a human raised by Luytan, in a different planet, be any different than his own kind? Were humans that biologically different from the Luytan? He was welcomed into the family and loved as any child would, after all he was brought into the family. Lex, conveniently, overlooks the fact his beloved brother is a human but ever since Alioth “died”, he hasn’t gotten back in touch with him, afraid his older brother, his original guardian, will be disappointed with how he turned out.

PLOTS + CONNECTIONS:

Plots in general [echo gallery.] Actually I want to see this character evolve - I intend to kicking him off from this app as an antagonist/villain/generally not-one-of-the-good-guys so I want to see where that takes. I like to write fluid characters , that get shaped along the rp so honestly I don’t have any specific plots in mind regarding the thing itself. I want to see where it takes him because it always depends on the interactions with others, after all. But in regarding of things I’d like to see play out, some of them could be: - Lex is obviously badly mentally ill, that isn’t what makes him  the villain/morally grey/the antagonist but it sure ain’t helping him make good, collected, thought-through decisions, so being faced with his own flaws and share of guilt. At this point he has killed, tortured, imprisoned, cheated, lied and pretty much done everything that his past self would judge so hard, all because he’s been wronged and puts the blame on  everyone else. He’s not at fault for what happened in his life but he hasn’t exactly dealt nicely with it. So being confronted with that is something it could be good character development; - In general I’d like to see him confront everyone, absolutely everyone who doesn’t agree with him, either physically or ideally, considering his character archetype is The Antagonist;

WRITING SAMPLE: (This is bad but I wanted to test his voice!)

“Alex.”

The female voice snaps him out of his mental divagations, Alexander turns on the office chair to face the woman standing on the doorway. Her shoulders are tense, as they should be, her clenched jaw and flexed hands, white knuckles in knots tell him everything he needs to know. She’s scared. She should be scared - there is still an almost fresh blood stain in the persian carpet in front of his desk, the metallic baseball bat is still sitting in a corner as a discarded witness of earlier violence.

“It’s Alexander.” His voice is monotone as always, his eyes unwavering from her face. He’s not wearing his lenses so his irises are cat-like in the dim-lit penthouse office. “We are not friends.” He reminds her, pointedly, it’s only logical he does so. She seems to have forgotten there’s no intimacy between them. She’s a personal assistant he did not hire, he did not care for, she was merely a helping hand one of his… followers, decided to hand him. She was there because she wanted to. He flexes his stiff hands, dried blood making a copper crust up until his suit sleeves. “What is it that you want?” The question isn’t rude, it’s direct as it should be. The woman seems caught off-guard. What kind of stupid human is she? Didn’t she just walk in demanding something? She shouldn’t sound surprised.

“I–” She hesitates and it’s annoying but he does not move, leaning back on the comfortable chair, watching her intently. If you had hired her, you’d fire her on the spot, but she’s only a favor, a helper so he stores those thoughts in the back of his mind. “–brought a change of clothes.” Her voice is small and if they weren’t in a silent office made of glass walls, he wouldn’t have heard. Her hands fidget nervously and Lex takes a whole moment of consideration for her annoying figure before standing up and running his blood-covered hands up, slowly starting to untie the windsor knot of his purple tie, cat-like eyes stuck on the woman’s lonely figure all the time as he undressed himself.

“Lost something, Mrs.Yates?”

ETC:

The phrase he uses when he punishes/tortures or kills someone is: “You have been measured. You have been weighed in the balances and found wanting.”

THIS pinterest board

THIS bad tag on my blog

(There’s a lot of other things I wanted to do but if I didn’t send this app already it would never happen.)

[kingsterracerp-blog]

KATE will be picking up LUNA VALDEZ as a third character.

OUT OF CHARACTER.

NAME: kate. AGE: 22. TIMEZONE: est. ACTIVITY LEVEL: u guys know PRONOUNS: she/her. SHIPS: /chem. ANTI-SHIPS: /no chem. TRIGGERS: Removed. PASSWORD: Removed. ANYTHING ELSE: Removed.

IN CHARACTER.

DESIRED CHARACTER: Luna Isabel Valdez. NICKNAMES: Lu, Looney, anything else. AGE/BIRTH ORDER: 23. FACECLAIM: Eiza Gonzalez. GENDER IDENTITY/PRONOUNS: she/her. SEXUAL/ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: heterosexual/biromantic. HOMETOWN: Las Vegas, Nevada. OCCUPATION/EDUCATION: Currently working at Urban Outfitters while she attends Harvard for Law. She’s also secretly a camgirl to help pay for her education.

(MORE) IN CHARACTER.

POSITIVES: Hardworking, outgoing, adventurous. NEGATIVES: Blunt, stubborn, wary.

@MOONBABE: i don’t think anyone has been more ashamed than my doctor when i admitted i eat hot cheetos for breakfast like...everyday @MOONBABE: i miss the days when bieber didn’t learn a few lines of spanish to do remixes of songs that didn’t need him in the first place. @MOONBABE: "do you need a full face of makeup to go grocery shopping?” [image]

BIOGRAPHY.

** TW UNDERAGE DRINKING, DRUNK DRIVING, CAR CRASH, MENTIONS OF BIPHOBIA, DEATH **

Luna Isabel Valdez was born in San Ángel, a relatively small city in Mexico. She doesn’t remember anything from living there, mostly because she was two when her parents took her and her sibling to America -- hoping they could find better work and give their children a better life. That wasn’t exactly the case when they got there, sure they got lots of work but it was constantly odd jobs that paid okay and at the end of the day it was still barely scraping it for an undocumented family of four.

Luna grew up watching her parents go through hell to raise them, watching her father leave for weeks at a time to go to better paying jobs and watching her mother cry at night because it was so much stress and who knew if he’d make it back. It didn’t exactly help that Luna was the problematic child growing up. There wasn’t really a reason why she acted out and was the wild child, she just was. It was who she was as a person. She constantly wanted all eyes on her and would do anything she had to do to get it. Dancing, singing, doing things she shouldn’t in class. Luna was just constantly bored -- that was her answer for why she acted out. But that all changed when a best friend came into the picture.

Luna met Jasmine in the third grade and they instantly became best friends. And while Luna was still a little mischievous, Jasmine was always the level headed one who tried to keep her out of trouble. They were inseparable, honestly. Wherever Luna was, Jasmine was right by her. And vise versa. They had sleepovers every weekend, called each other on the phone almost every night even if they had just seen each other that day, helped each other with outfits, homework, talked about boys. Luna finally had someone who understood what it was like to be different, her being Mexican as well. They had each other for everything. So it wasn’t a surprise when in the 8th grade, while sitting on the porch swing of Jasmine’s house -- Jasmine came out to Luna as gay. She liked girls, and had known for a long time. Luna was the first and only person she ever came out to.

Of course Luna accepted her for who she was, no matter what. They were best friends, and Luna would have accepted anybody who was different -- especially her best friend. Learning more about sexuality, had Luna thinking a lot about it. The idea started to play in her head that she could be with a girl, maybe. That if they were the right person, and she felt good with them -- she could date them. And that was true. She started to imagine herself with her closest girl friends, wondering what it would be like to kiss them, and date them. The one person she thought about that the most with, of course, was Jasmine. And as more time went on, she realized more that she did like guys, and was attracted to them. But if she got to know a girl well enough, she felt the same way she did for guys.

Soon enough, Luna found herself thinking about Jasmine as more than a friend. And that soon turned into a confusing crush that until the tenth grade, had her completely confused about it. During a sleepover one night, Luna confided in Jasmine about how she was feeling. About her sexuality. And she also confessed that she was sure she had feelings for her. She was relieved that Jasmine actually felt the same way. They started secretly dating, since to everyone else they were still in the closet.

It was easy to get away with, seeing as they were best friends and had been long before this ever happened. They were happy, and they were in love. And it was easy for them, as it got closer to them graduating school to plan a future together. To go off to college together, get married, have kids. It was something they wanted badly. But it never happened. The summer after they graduated high school, they had gone to a party to celebrate their new freedom. They had both been drinking, and somewhere along the way -- a fight happened. Luna to this day doesn’t really know what it was about, not fully. All she remembers was talking to a classmate and Jasmine getting jealous, and Luna getting defensive and saying she didn’t need to be because she loved her.

It had drawn enough attention that Jasmine panicked and left, saying she was fine to drive even though she clearly wasn’t. Jasmine was supposed to be the level headed one, so Luna let her go -- which she still regrets. Luna got a ride home, and was hoping that she’d get a call from her girlfriend once she got back. She was too caught up in her head, upset, that she didn’t even think twice as she saw the ambulances and police racing down the road. But as she drove up her driveway to her parents waiting for her, she knew something was wrong. And her world came crumbling down around her. Jasmine ran a red light, causing an accident -- the person in the other car somehow survived, but Jasmine, didn’t.

Between what happened at the party, and Jasmine dying, it forced Luna out of the closet she was so comfortable living in. Most were okay with it, they lived in Las Vegas for crying out loud. But also some weren’t, like her parents. They never outright said anything, because they did love her and how do you tell your daughter you’re ashamed of them when they just lost the person they loved? But they did quietly disagree -- which sometimes, Luna thought was worse.

It took a little while for Luna to get back into the swing of dating, Jasmine had been her first relationship and it had been secret. And it had obviously ended horribly. But since then she has dated and seen a good amount of people, but nothing has really ever lasted. She either goes for people who only end up hurting her -- or she ends up hurting them. It was easy with Jasmine, with others it’s not. And Luna isn’t a perfect person, she knows that. And can own up to the fact she doesn’t think she could be in a serious relationship because she’ll end up fucking it up if they don’t first.

Luna took a much needed year off before college, needing the time to mourn and also to save up for college. She wanted to become a lawyer, and she knew it would be expensive with her parents not having the money to send her to college. So Luna started to work at a local diner, saving up every penny she had. It was a struggle, but thankfully her coworker showed her something that changed her life in the best of ways. Something that would make her a lot of money, and fast. It was an adult website where Luna could video chat with a chat room, and they’d pay her for literally anything she did. Laughing, talking, singing, and of course more sexual things that Luna was desperate enough to do.

She was making enough to go to the school she was accepted into -- Boston University, and still did her cam thing on the side as she worked at Urban Outfitters, and now just recently graduated from there, she’s now on her way to Harvard law to finish up her schooling. She still continues to work at Urban Outfitters, and definitely still does her web page. But that, is something she doesn’t tell people -- and she’s never once showed her face. No matter how much they offer.

IN CHARACTER QUESTIONNAIRE.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST STRENGTH? HOW DOES IT COME IN HANDY?

I’m hardworking. It takes me a lot to give up on something, and it definitely comes in handy with my education. And wanting to make something out of myself.

WHAT IS YOUR GREATEST WEAKNESS? HOW DOES IT AFFECT YOUR DAY-TO-DAY LIFE?

My attitude, probably? I piss people off constantly because I don’t know how to keep my mouth shut and I always say what’s on my mind. I’m blunt, and I don’t hide that.

WHERE DO YOU SEE YOURSELF IN TEN YEARS?

Lawyer with her own kickass firm, providing justice left and right. 

WHAT BROUGHT YOU TO KING’S TERRACE?

College, and I thought I would probably move -- but I got accepted into Harvard, so I guess I’m here for a little longer. Which isn’t terrible, it’s a nice place. Cool people.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN TIME AND TELL YOUR YOUNGER SELF SOMETHING, WHAT WOULD IT BE?

I guess a few years ago is considered younger right? -- It wasn’t your fault. Cry, let it out. Move on. You’ll be okay. She’d want you to be okay.