#hes too stupid for you leora

[endingsmakeroom]

eyo, i’m eli! i’m a 21 year old non-binary dude, and use he/him pronouns. my main is @justeliiijah. i have so much lore about my ocs that if i attempt to hold it all in me i will explode. so my dear friend @thecatamaranlad held me at gunpoint, and now i have an ask blog.

the art currently used in the pfp and background is from my good friend milo (carrd linked here)

rules

Please try to keep asks on topic! That said, if it's funny enough, I make exceptions for almost anything.

Don't be a dick. I'm pretty lax on what that means, so, uh... have fun figuring out what's 'too assholey,' 'cuz I know I will.

If you spam asks, I will delete them. And you, from the face of the earth. Hope this helps.

One of my characters is a genocide advocate, I'm not. Shocker. Don't conflate my actions with that of my characters.

This is not a general RP blog. Do not treat it as one, please.

Do not, for the love of god, bring real world politics into my stupid fantasy blorbo world. PLEASE.

characters

[to be linked]

Aeren Kaminski-Pierce

Daeun Choi-Pierce (Kaya)

Zahra Jahani

Kade Embras

Leora and Cora Solariis, Micah Levi

The Sixteen

lore

the meeting (age of the universe)

[timeline post to be added]

FAQ

[to be added]

playlists

[to be added]

[mosslarose]

Sallow ~ Part Two

Summary: Maisie takes her children to see Poppy for a birthday.

Word count: 2,300+

Masterlist here

Notes: I have many ideas for this mini series :)

Maisie and her two children have been at Hogwarts for two weeks now. She’s enjoying it, teaching and being back at the school she holds close to her heart. Her children seem to be getting on fine too, happy to be learning and experimenting with magic.

This weekend, she’s taking them to see Poppy and their cousins. Her youngest is turning five and they’re having a little picnic birthday. Only something small, for the family sort of thing. It is also a little for Soren as his birthday was a week prior, however, he himself has never been a big fan of celebrating it.

Maisie packed a small suitcase for all three of them, preparing to stay there for a night. They all get into a little carriage and head off. She can see how excited her children are by the way they are looking out the window and smiling. It was a short 45 minute ride until they were arriving at Soren and Poppy’s small manor home that resides north of the highlands. Maisie saw Poppy and her two children playing in the garden and before the carriage had even fully stopped, Sisi and Ajax had already gotten out and were running over, laughing and giggling as they did so. Maisie not so gracefully got out and grabbed their suitcase from the back of the cart. She puts it just inside the hallway of the house.

“Hello you two troublemakers” Poppy laughs as she greets the two children who just ran over. “Hi lovely” she greets Maisie with a kiss on each cheek and small hug. “Picnic is this way” she says as she guides Maisie towards the patch work blanket that lay on the soft grass. She set out some cupcakes and biscuits that she clearly made herself and lots of different bowls of fruit.

“Oh looks wonderful Pops” Maisie smiles as she picks up a tomato and proceeds to eat it. “I got a gift for Leora” Maisie says as she gives Poppy a small little gift box. “It isn’t much but I know she’s been talking about them a lot” It was a mixture of different flower seeds, some sunflower, dahlia’s and hyacinths.

“Oh she’ll love it. Thank you” Poppy says as she gently places the lid back on the gift box. Maisie nods and smiles as she and Poppy both sit down on the picnic blanket. “Wine?” Poppy says as she picks up too glasses and a bottle of Chateaux Margaux.

“Oh yes please” Maisie giggles as she takes a glass and lets Poppy pour some in. They sit and gossip for about half an hour before little Leo has wondered over wanting a snack. “You okay baby girl?” Poppy asks, stroking the little girls head who just knelt down by her mum, shoving some strawberries in her mouth. She looks up nodding and smiling. “Aunty Maisie got you a present” she then said as she picked up the small box and handed it to the little girl. She opened it and smiled oh so brightly.

“Thank you!” She squealed and jumped into Maisie’s lap, giving her a big hug. She smiled down at her little pouches of seeds before gently placing them on the picnic blanket and running off back to all the other children.

“When is Soren getting here?” Maisie asks, having no clue when her brother will eventually turn up.

“A couple hours, just doing some paper work” Poppy smiles and Maisie nods in acknowledgment. “How’s you and Bash?” Poppy asks. It takes Maisie by surprise, along with the fact she hasn’t heard anyone use his nickname in a very long time.

“Oh… you know, spoke a bit here and there” Maisie mutters out nervously and Poppy squints at her.

“Still haven’t told him have you?” Poppy said and immediately Maisie looks up to see her best friend smiling cheekily.

“How- did Soren tell you?” Maisie asks, she never told Poppy, too embarrassed honestly. Only Soren knew who the dad was.

“I’m not stupid” Poppy laughs in response and Maisie rolls her eyes playfully “you two were inseparable. Yeah you never officially said you were courting, but I wasn’t oblivious to what was going on behind closed doors” Maisie looks down into her lap sheepishly where she’s playing with her fingers “it wasn’t long after we left school that you found out you were pregnant. I will admit, took me a while to figure out. Your boy is practically his spitting image” Poppy pauses, taking a minute “when I found out you were going to work at Hogwarts, and Soren didn’t say anything about Sebastian working their to you, I gave him a piece of my mind that’s for one, especially when I found out about what he’d said to you” she said and Maisie looks down, though she chuckles a little at the idea of small Poppy getting mad at Soren.

“It’s scary” Maisie finally admits after a moment of silence and Poppy nods understandingly. “What if he wants nothing to do with them” she said, voice slightly wobbling as she looks over to her very happy children, jumping around and running with Poppy’s smaller ones.

“And what if he wants everything to do with them” Poppy says, though for some reason, that would make Maisie feel even worse about not telling him.

“Then that means I took his chance from raising his children, being involved in loving them- that- that’s so cruel of me” Maisie feels bad for making what should be a happy day for Poppy and her family sad.

“You were young and naive, you didn’t know what you were doing” Poppy states simply and Maisie looks down and plays with a bit of grass hanging over the blanket. “You can’t change the past, but you have the choice in how you let it effect your future” Poppy said and Maisie nods, Poppy is right and she knows it, but whether or not she admits that? Another question entirely.

“Momma!” They turn to the sound of splashing and Poppy’s eldest son, Eli running over on his little nine year old legs. When he reaches them he is slightly out if breath. “Leo fell in the pond!” He says pointing towards the havac and then running back towards it. Maisie and Poppy were instantly up and running over. They arrived to the sight their two girls drenched. It appears Sisi jumped in after Leo and stopped her from drowning. Poppy gently pulled Leo from Sisi and called for her house elf to grab them some towels.

“I’m proud of you, you acted fast.” Maisie said as she hugged her daughter and kissed the top of her head. “What had happened?” she asks the three children before her as she slightly crouched down.

“We were trying to count all the frogs but Leo slipped in.” Ajax said nervously, guilt written all across him as he twiddled his thumbs.

“We didn’t know it would happen” Eli muttered from next to him, scared that he did something terribly wrong.

“It’s okay, non of you are in trouble” Maisie said stroking the two boys’ heads and the looking comfortingly between all three of them. “Accidents happen, just be careful next time, okay?” she said softly and all of them nod quickly. “Sisi, come on, let’s get you that towel” she chuckles as she guides the girl towards the picnic blanket where Poppy already has Leo wrapped in a towel, rocking the girl and making her laugh. Maisie sits down beside them and puts a towel over her daughter. The girls were only wearing thin summer dresses and it was only the beginning of September mean the sun was still out and quite warm, the girl will dry off in no time.

Soren then appears in the distance, walking from the house he clearly just flu flamed to from the castle. He gracefully strides over.

“Daddy!” His son yells as he runs over, jumping up into his arms and hugging his father close. Soren smiles slightly as he pulls his son away and holds him up by his arms, the boy giggling as he does so. Soren let’s him down when he reaches the picnic blanket, noticing the two girls with wet hair and towels wrapped around them.

“What happened?” He asks with furrowed brows at the scene that lay before him.

“Sisi saved Leo from the pond” Poppy chuckles and Soren just blinks a little in confusion but lets it go. He grabs a glass and pours some wine into it before downing it in one gulp.

“I want some!” Eli yells and Maisie, Poppy and Soren all laugh. The boy just sulks and crosses his arms, all the adults having said no in unison. “Why not?” The boy asks as he extends the last word, again, the adults chuckle.

“It’s for adults only” Poppy says gently while laughing a little at her son who only scowls more at the answer.

After about an hour of the girls drying off while eating, the boys joining in on the devouring of cake and Maisie sits and chats with her brother and sister-in-law, she feels the world could not be more perfect - well, in this moment, as of right now.

Eli and Leo both get up and run around across the garden, Poppy getting up and following them, coming to a stand still at the edge of the hill as she watches her two children happily. Maisie’s two eventually went up and joined them, running around and giggling.

Poppy stood at the top of the hill, wearing a beautiful yellow sun dress, her short hair tied back with a small yellow bow. The sun is setting, casting a lovely yellow hue over the valley. The wind blowing a gentle breeze through the long grass, making it flow iridescently like the meadow she stood upon was the sea itself. Soren walked up to her, standing behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her. He lay his head atop hers and placed his hands above her own, the ones that were crossed over her chest and he stroked them soothingly. They stood their for a while, admiring the beauty that surrounds their home. They both smile blissfully as they listen to the children around them playing and giggling happily. Poppy let’s her head fall back slightly into Soren’s chest, feeling his warmth envelope her, surround her like a bubble of safety.

Maisie watched with fondness and admiration. That’s all she ever wished for. To be like that with him, loved and cared for by the one man that ever truly made her feel safe. The father of her children, the love of her life. Sebastian was so close yet so far and she hated it with every ounce of her being.

After tucking her children into bed, saying goodnight and wishing them sweet dreams. She went down stairs, and stood by the tall window in the dark living room, moonlight cascading over her light features as she watched the night sky.

“Can’t sleep huh?” Said a lovely honey voice from behind her. They came and stood next to her, leaning against the window beside her. She glanced to the person who joined her by the window, chocolate brown eyes and hair that matched. He had beautiful freckles that rolled over his cheeks and across his face like a constellation of stars.

“Oh- uh no, not really” Maisie said shyly, keeping her arms crossed over herself like a self hug. She looked back out the window, mindlessly following little fish that swam past.

“You’re the new fifth year right?” The boy asks and Maisie simply nods in answer. “I’d be nervous too. But it’s okay! Most of the professors are actually alright” he said with a boyish smile, eyes reassuring. “What do you have first tomorrow?” He asked and Maisie searched her head for a minute before answering.

“Charms” she answered quietly, she’s surprised he heard her to be honest.

“Ah Professor Ronan, he’s a decent man, not a bad teacher” he said as he looked at her and then back out the window “I’ll take you down there tomorrow if you’d like, seen as I have him first too” the boy suggested and Maisie looked at him dumbfounded. Someone is being nice to her, talking to her. Wouldn’t people find her weird for joining in her fifth year? Maisie just smiles simply and nodded before looking away.

“Thank you” she answers as a shiver runs down her body, this common room is slightly too cold for her liking.

“You’re cold, here” Sebastian pulls off his jumper and hands it to her. At first she just holds it, looking at it confused, this guy she just met gave her his jumper? Is she dreaming?

“That is very kind of you” she answers and smiles sweetly at him before putting the jumper on, the smell of burning wood, fresh rain and pine needles engulfing her senses. The boy nods back with a smile of his own, clearly proud of his own chivalry.

“The names Sebastian, by the way. Sebastian Sallow” the boy she now knows as Sebastian says as he puts his hand out for her to shake.

“Maisie Addams” She answers quietly, taking his hand. It’s large and very warm compared to her small cold hands. She pulls her hand away and instantly misses what was previously there. She pulls her hand to herself and holds it, the sensation of his hand lingering.

“It was a pleasure meeting you Maisie Addams” Sebastian said as he bows.

“The pleasure was all mine, Sebastian Sallow” Maisie replies as she bows her head slightly back before the boy walks away. She watches after him, seeing him disappear into the boys dormitory. She turns around to look out the window and instead of blissfully being met with many little fish, she sees the moon and the stars, the ones reflected in the face of the man she longs for.

Oh how she wishes to be back there again.

< previous part

next part >

[mars-incorrect-quotes]

Leora: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for, like, a year now. No response.

Jacob: Wow, they sound stupid.

Leora: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just... dense.

Jacob: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know... “Hey! I love you!”

Leora: I guess you’re right. Hey, Jacob, I love you.

Jacob: See? Just like that.

Leora: Holy fucking shit.

Jacob: If that flies over their head, then sorry, Leora, but they’re too dumb for you.

[russovito]

finding truth; solo

local time: friday 04 november 2022. 11:00 palavian time: saturday 05 november 2022. 8:00 location: sotiris, leora. vito russo’s apartment. secondary location: cipritine, palaven. romano family compound. vito russo + theran romano

It had been three weeks since Stell had told Vito that her father had gone missing. In those three weeks, the beastkin had used every avenue available to him, save one, to search for Ian and rest of Regina Caelorum’s crew. What he had found, or rather the lack thereof, had been telling. Someone ranked highly within the Collective almost certainly had a hand in this mission, possibly multiple people. Things were too clean, information too lacking. The investigation files were an absolute joke, large sections that clearly had never contained notes were redacted, even with the high-level clearance Theran had given Vito. Though he was biased, Russo felt strongly that the Romanos had been behind Ian’s mission. Whether or not they were at fault for his disappearance, however...

He would find out soon. Knowing it would tip off Theran, Vito had asked the hacker his father had introduced to him decades ago if he could find anything out. It was a passive way of getting the Councilor’s attention, but it had worked. Less than four hours after he’d put in the request, he’d received a text from Theran on the phone he used exclusively for conversing with the Venpalan.

VC. FN041100

Video call. Friday November 4th, 11:00 your time. Everything between their two phones was encrypted and untraceable, but Theran hadn’t lied, bribed, and killed his way to an ultimate seat of power by being careless. Vito had passed the time between text receipt and fated video call by spending more time in the Hunter’s Warren. Bruises from some of those fights were still being healed, his nanites working on him around the clock to accelerate how quickly they faded. Nanites did nothing for the ache, though. They could, but the beastkin found the bruised sensation grounding as his life seemed to spiral out of his grip.

Sitting in the middle of the couch in his living room, the beastkin used voice commands to link his phone up to the television. When the call came through, he accepted immediately, a high resolution image of Theran popping up on his display, just as he knew his own image was being cast to the councilor. Reverting to Atseesh, his native language, Vito begins the conversation. “Hello, Sir.”

“Boy. I’d ask you how you’re enjoying your vacation, but I think we both know you aren’t.” Theran replies in Atseesh as well. A local dialect only spoken by one tribe on one planet, the beastkin has long assumed Theran learned the language so their conversations would be more private. Vito nods at the man’s words, his expression a perfect mask of neutrality. Lying about enjoying his time here would be quite stupid. He wasn’t, and Theran knew that very well.

“You found the present I left for you, finally. I have to admit, it took you far longer to locate than I’d have thought possible, but I either under, or over, estimated how much you care for the girl.” On his couch, the beastkin is very still, the blinking of his eyelids the only sign the video call hasn’t disconnected. Theran, looking rather pleased at Vito’s lack of reaction, continues. “He’s in the Nubian Expanse in the Attican Traverse cluster located on the eastern edge of the Milky Way. No single dominant race has laid any claim to the meager resources there; so it’s mostly a haven for outlaws. You should remember that, after all, you were there about a decade ago.”

Vito remembered that job. He remembered all of the jobs he’d done for Theran, but that one had been particularly nasty. It had involved Cerberus, the human-survivalist paramilitary group led by the enigmatic Hades. Their core belief is that humans deserve a greater role in the galactic community, and that the Human Councilors are too hamstrung by law and public opinion to stand up effectively to the other Collective races. Cerberus supports the principle that any methods of advancing humanity's ascension are entirely justified, including illegal or dangerous experimentation, terrorist activities, sabotage, and assassination. Cerberus operatives accept that these methods are brutal, but believe history will vindicate them. Nevertheless, the Collective Council have declared Cerberus to be a terrorist organization and prosecute identified Cerberus agents accordingly.

If Ian’s mission had involved Cerberus, it was more than likely the man was dead or the subject of torture and experimentation. This had not been the answer Vito had been hoping to receive.

“I remember, father. I do not understand how this is a present, though.” Voice even and controlled, Vito raises a questioning eyebrow as he stares at the tv.

Theran laughs, completely ignoring the implied question. “I need you to look into buying property on that little planet. Silvana has convinced me it’s time for a vacation. I’d prefer you clear out an island close to Sotiris and build a compound for us, but we’ll be arriving in about two weeks, so I don’t think you’ll have the time. Just find a suitable plot on the capital island, something far removed, and buy that. You know how Silvana likes things, so set it up properly. We’ll talk about your mission after the Allies Gala, which you’ll be attending as our guard.”

Then, with a nod of dismissal, Theran ends the video call and Vito is left staring at his reflection in the black television screen. Bringing his uninjured hand up to his face, he lets out a frustrated sigh as he rubs his fingers into closed eyes. The ache and the red flashes of color don’t help the migraine building there.

[thessalian]

Jallira!Mage vs the Repository

Jowan: This is Lily. She is my one true love.

Lily: Hi.

Jowan: They’re going to make me Tranquil because they’re saying I’ve dabbled in blood magic - WHICH I TOTALLY HAVE NOT DONE BY THE WAY NOT AT ALL NO NEVER - so I want to destroy my phylactery and run away with her.

Jallira: Um. Okay. Not sure which of the horrific breaches of protocol to deal with first. Have you thought about just talking to someone about this?

Lily: I saw the paperwork!

Jallira: ...that does not invalidate my question...

Jowan: You’re the enchanters’ pet. Get us a rod of fire so we can melt the locks of the repository.

Jallira: I ... can ... just ... freeze the lock and shatter it...?

Jowan: Nope! Rod of fire! Go go go!

Storage area

Jallira: I need some time to think. And to help somebody. With something. Something uncomplicated.

Mage: Don’t go near Leora. She’s in a right mood.

Jallira: ...I can help! ...Can I help? Um ... may ... I help?

Leora: How are you on spiders?

Jallira: ...meep?

Irving’s office

Jallira: I know there’s plans to make Jowan Tranquil and I’d really rather you not do that to him and maybe we could all just sit down with Ser Greagoir and discuss this like rational people instead of jumping to all the conclusions and--

Irving: Either way, he’s getting punished for his dalliance with that Chantry girl. If my charge goes down, Greagoir’s charge does too.

Jallira: You know ... this feels like a pride thing and my Harrowing has made me a little sensitive to that sort of thing and maybe we could all just sit down and have a discussion and sensible discipline instead of giving them enough rope and having the end result be breaking and entering?

Irving: ...Breaking and entering, eh? Please, continue.

Jallira: Oh. I knew something you didn’t. That’s ... new. And a little disturbing. Also oops.

Irving: Look, help them with their plan. We need to see how far they’re willing to go with this.

Jallira: But ... but ... meep...

Irving: What’s this? Rod of fire request? Well, because we’re not complete idiots, the door you’re wanting to melt is resistant to magic but there’s an old Tevinter thing that’ll blow a hole through the wall and right into the phylactery chamber. Don’t worry; people blow holes in the walls all the time here. Here’s your request form.

Jallira: For the record, I am only doing this because it’s the only way to get all parties in the same space to talk about this.

Irving: One question before you go.

Jallira: Mmm?

Irving: Why are you covered in gore?

Jallira: Meditiative helpfulness. Storage room made of spider. I would have just rehomed them but we ... are on an island and most spiders aren’t known for their ability to swim.

Irving: ...Noted.

Jallira: Please don’t take Leora to task about it; I’ve got enough people in trouble today.

Irving: I think I can not sweat the small stuff, given I am flushing out a blood mage.

Jallira: ...alleged blood mage?

Irving: How are you so remarkably good at the puppy-dog eyes when you have never seen a puppy? Alright; alleged blood mage. Now off you go.

In the repository

Jowan: Okay, here we go! Melt the locks!

Jallira: You know, I could have just got you past that door and left you to it...

Jowan: But you’re helping! You like helping! And it’s not like this could get traced back to you! You’re just basically my only friend around here, sure, but you’re such a goody-two-shoes that no one would suspect you’d help me!

Jallira: ...........I don’t think the rod of fire is going to work.

Lily: What? Why not?

Jallira: Because ... the door would have been made to keep mages out and the designers of the defenses are probably not entirely stupid?

Jowan: But--!

Lily: She’s right.

Jowan: Damn. Right! Onward to fight sentinels, then!

Lily: ...I ... know he’s getting you in so much trouble and pretty much obliging you to get into fights with the defenses here, but he’s lovely, really!

Jallira: *sigh*

Further in...

Jallira: Why are you digging around in crates? None of this is ours...

Jowan: We’re going to need money if we’re on the run. Clothes that don’t scream “Circle runaways”, if nothing else.

Jallira: Why are you looting the bodies?

Jowan: Same reason.

Jallira: Except ... why are you finding anything? They’re ... constructs. Why are constructs carrying ... two health poultices and about seven copper in loose change?

Jowan: ...You think too much and now I won’t be able to stop contemplating that. Thank you; it’s done wonders for my nervousness.

And finally, the phylactery chamber

Jowan: This bitch leashed me. YEET!

Phylactery: *smash*

Jowan: Okay, now let’s go.

Lily: I wasn’t going to say anything while we were fighting for our lives, but ... your friend looks really nervous.

Jowan: Jallira always looks really nervous. I’m pretty sure she lives in a permanent state of -- oh, that is more than your usual baseline nervous...

Jallira: They already knew you were going to escape and that Lily was going to help you and there was a whole thing about wanting to catch you red-handed - literally, I suppose, because ... erm, ‘yeet’ ... and anyway, we’re going to get caught but I’m sure I can talk us all out of this if we just--

Jowan: Bitch! *flees with Lily*

Jallira: ...are ... we ... all ... just ... allergic to diplomacy?

And, outside

Greagoir: Just as you said, Irving. Delivered right into our hands.

Jallira: Okay, listen, please, now that everyone’s in the same space, can we just talk about this?

Greagoir: No; this one’s getting made Tranquil and you, girl, are going to Aeonar.

Jallira: But ... why a mage prison? She’s not even a mage! Could we all please just calm down and start with the accusations of blood magic against Jowan, which--

Jowan: FUCK. OFF. *yeets blood at basically everybody*

Jallira: ...which ... turned out ... to be right?

Lily: No, Jowan; you fuck off.

Jowan: But-- Fine! *flees*

Irving: Well, Greagoir has some chasing to do, but things are going to be a little uncomfortable for you here for awhile.

Greagoir: I’m half-minded to throw her into Aeonar...

Jallira: ...meep?!?

Duncan: Or she could come with me and be a Grey Warden, which was the plan pretty much from the start.

Jallira: .................MEEP?!?

Duncan: We’re short on Wardens, we could probably use a diplomat if we ever need to use our treaties to conscript aid, and honestly you fought through a mage repository and, apparently, a storage room full of giant spiders. As well as the quickest, cleanest Harrowing anyone’s ever seen.

Greagoir: WaitWUT. No! You don’t just hand out invitations to leave the Circle to--

Irving: Mages who prove they’re willing to follow orders, more or less, even when it might not end in their best interests? Who don’t succumb to various temptations, which is what we train them to do their entire time here?

Duncan: ...They’re about to start arguing again, aren’t they.

Jallira: *little nod*

Duncan: We’ll just leave while they’re distracted then. Anything much to pack?

Jallira: ...*little see-saw motion with her hand*

Duncan: I can buy you ten minutes. Meet me at the front door.

Jallira: .........meep! *voom*

Duncan: *looking from Irving to Greagoir and back again* Why can’t you two hatefuck like normal people?

[sunflowershouto]

what’s in a name? - katsuki bakugou x reader

𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Hi guys, Leora again! My very first request! For this ask, I’m going to give the reader a last name! If you don’t like it, that’s okay ‘cause your last name becomes Bakugou pretty quick! ;) Reader’s last name for this is Shinohara, and her ex’s name is Takashi (Takashi Furukawa). Her son’s name is Kaoru. 

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Bakugou raised your son as if he was his own, but one thing was missing.

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 1.1k

𝐰 𝐡 𝐚 𝐭 ' 𝐬   𝐢 𝐧   𝐚   𝐧 𝐚 𝐦 𝐞 ?

You were twenty years old, lying in bed with of one of your closest friends, wondering if he had any idea what he was getting himself into. His arms were around you, and you breathed in the scent of gunpowder, his body hot against yours.

“Are you sure about this?” you asked, curling closer to him as if he’d disappear once you closed your eyes. The same way that Takashi had, almost a year ago now. “I mean. . . You know, Kaoru.”

“Will you quit asking me that?” Katsuki muttered, pulling you closer and trying to get you to quit doubting what the two of you had done that night. “If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t do it. Now shush up and sleep already, will you?”

“Yeah, okay,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and letting yourself drift off, mind melting into dreams.

//

The next eighteen years weren’t easy. Katsuki always tried, always put everything he could into helping to raise your son, but it wasn’t like he knew what a picture perfect family looked like. He was your husband, and as such he had a duty to protect you and your child, the same way he had a duty to be a hero.

‘No father is perfect,’ you would tell him every time he doubted himself. ‘What’s important is that you’re here. You were there for me when he wasn’t. You always have been.’

There were fights, between you and Katsuki, between Katsuki and Kaoru. The three of you always managed to set things right, but there were some things that words couldn’t fix. You’d long since taken Katsuki’s last name: Y/N Bakugou. Your son, however, didn’t seem so sure.

His name was Kaoru Shinohara, and he had never showed any interest in changing it.

You were thirty-eight, lying in bed with the man you had married, and marveling over the fact that your son, your baby boy, was going off to college in just a few months. “Eighteen years,” you breathed out, humming as Katsuki pulled you close. “I can’t believe it.”

He hummed in response, running his hand absently up and down your back, tracing patterns through the back of your tank-top. “Shinohara,” he mumbled,  his voice quiet as he stared up into the dark.

“Huh? Shinohara? You haven’t called me that since we were in high school,” you replied, lifting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Not you, stupid.” There was no malice in his voice, it was purely a term of endearment at this point. “Kaoru. His name is still Shinohara.”

“He’s stubborn,” you pointed out, pulling back so you could meet his eyes, a smile on your lips. “He got that from you, you know.”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. If either of you had taught your son how to be insufferably stubborn, it was definitely Bakugou. He couldn’t exactly argue with you on that. “He’ll come around, just give him time.”

“I’ve given him eighteen years,” he grumbled, letting his head fall back against his pillow, eyes trained on the ceiling. “Our kid hates me, the little punk.”

“He doesn’t hate you. Now shush up and go to sleep, already.”

//

The next morning, when Bakugou got downstairs, Kaoru was sitting in the living room, an array of paperwork splayed out on the table in front of him.

“Homework on a Sunday? You’re joking,” Katsuki huffed, walking by and ruffling Kaoru’s hair on his way to the fridge. “It’s the weekend, at least do something fun.”

“It’s not homework, dad,” Kaoru countered, straightening his hair only to have it ruffled as soon as Katsuki walked by again. “It’s paperwork.” His tone was somber, more-so than usual. Kaoru was an odd mix of his father’s brash and stubborn demeanor, and his mother’s more relaxed and upbeat attitude. For him to be quiet or overly serious was rare.

“Paperwork? The hell is it for?” Katsuki set down the plate he’d gotten from the cabinet and sat across the table from his son, grabbing one of the sheets and inspecting it. 

A family court document. . .?

Katsuki’s eyes scanned the page until he found his son’s name, written in perfect kanji in the allotted space.

Shinohara Kaoru to be changed to Bakugou Kaoru

“Kid. . .” Katsuki stared at the sheet of paper, reading it over and over again to make sure that he was reading this right.

“You’re not really that surprised are you?” Kaoru asked, his expression both excited and nervous. “I mean, mom said you’d be happy, but I thought you’d see it coming.”

“What? Surprised? No. Bakugou is a way cooler last name than Shinohara. I knew it was only a matter of time before you came around,” Katsuki assured him, crossing his arms and looking the other way. Damned kid. . . Why’d he have to go and make this some kind of a surprise?

He hated this kind of sentimental squishy stuff, but why did he feel such a surge of pride in reading the name Kaoru Bakugou?

“Dad. . . You don’t have to say anything, I know this isn’t really your thing, but I wanna say thanks. I mean. . . You raised me. That other jerk probably never even bothered to learn my name before he left mom.” Kaoru’s eyes narrowed as he thought of his biological father, his fists curling up at his sides.

“You were there for us, and I know I said a lot of shit to you when I was a kid that probably made me seem really ungrateful, but-”

“You did,” Katsuki confirmed, nodding. “You really did.”

“Uh, yeah. Thanks, Dad.” Kaoru’s brow twitched, but he continued through what he was saying without snapping. “But I’m glad that you’re here. You make mom really happy, and. . . I think you’re a really cool dad. I’m happy to have your last name. Just, don’t let it get to your head, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Katsuki sighed, slinging an arm around Kaoru’s shoulders and ruffling his hair for the third time that morning. “You don’t suck too bad either, kid.”

“Wow, thanks. That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to anyone ever,” Kaoru huffed, though he wore a small smile on his face. 

You watched from the kitchen doorway, your eyes gleaming as you watched the two of them, a lump growing in your throat. You couldn’t miss the pride gleaming in Katsuki’s eyes as he looked at your son, the way that he had accepted him without hesitance. You had absolutely no doubt in your heart that this was fate, that you’d married the right man, and that Kaoru and Katsuki were the best things to ever happen to you. “Happy Father’s Day, dad.”

“That means you’re cooking dinner tonight, punk.”

“What?!”

[paladin-lynx]

Love Hurts (“Among Us” Ficlet)

Trigger/Content Warnings: Mentions of character death

Author’s Notes: So as I’m sure you can all tell from my recent posting, I’ve started playing “Among Us” and I’ve quickly become hooked. Some games are short and not very serious, but others have been filled with emotion and I’ve played with some awesome people. This piece is loosely based off a particular game I played, although I changed the names just for everyone’s privacy. So I guess these are technically OCs now, if people want to see more of them? But to all the people I’ve played with, you guys are great! Hope to run into you again sometime soon!

“Dead body reported by Crewmate Orange. Corpse found: Crewmate White. All remaining Crewmates report to the Cafeteria immediately.”

Leora nearly jumped out of her skin at the sudden announcement, blinking up at the nearest loudspeaker. Things had seemed to be going relatively well for a while, with no bodies being reported, but she should have known that the peace would only last so long. While MIRA HQ was fairly big, it wasn’t that big, and if there were Impostors running around killing Crewmates, it would only be a matter of time before someone stumbled across a corpse left in their wake.

While she was of course wary about the entire situation, she couldn’t help being a bit irked. Somehow the Impostors had slipped under MIRA’s radar during screening and had managed to stay hidden during the entire ride on The Skeld and it was only once they had gotten all the way to Headquarters that MIRA apparently had realized something was amiss.

She still remembered the announcement as they had started to make themselves at home at MIRA HQ – “There are two Impostors among us.”

The crew had immediately gone into a panic. Yellow had wasted no time slamming the Emergency Button so many times that the crew had ended up ejecting him. His constant talking had them convinced that he had to be one of the Impostors, because no one else would be so accusatory towards the friends they had made on the way here, right?

But as his body had fallen through the clouds, that announcement had sounded once more – “Two Impostors remain.”

It had been very silent around the Cafeteria table after that as everyone processed what they had just done. How could MIRA have technology advanced enough to figure out that there were shapeshifters within the crew, but their scanners weren’t intelligent enough to pinpoint who they were?

The turn against Crewmate Yellow had definitely been a shift in the crew’s dynamic up until that point. They had all become so close with one another on the way there. In training, MIRA had mentioned that on these missions, your crew was like your family and it was easy to form bonds. Of course, that was before any of them had known that not everyone was who they said they were.

They had even shared their real names with one another so that they didn’t have to constantly call one another by codename, even though it was still easiest to default to that at a moment’s notice. Leora was Red, but she had had no issue giving the crew her actual name. In fact, she had never been the most popular of people back home and these strangers had welcomed her into their midst with open arms. It was nice.

It made her heart clench to think that now none of them could trust one another. But they had to do what they had to do.

So for now, she glanced up at Black, who was in the Laboratory with her. “Come on. Let’s get to the Cafeteria.”

They made their way through Decontamination and through the hallways towards the crew’s meeting place. Black was a large individual, but he didn’t speak much, so everyone had decided to simply call him Giant since he hadn’t bothered giving his name. When he did talk, he was straight to the point, only saying what was necessary to get his point across and nothing more. Leora guessed it was to cover his ass and not say anything that could make the others suspicious.

Finally, they walked into the Cafeteria, and Leora blinked when she saw there were only two others there, already seated at the table and waiting for them. Were there really only four of them left? And there were still two Impostors among them.

Besides her and Giant, there was Crewmate Orange, whose name was Paige. She had had rotten luck thus far in coming across the bodies littered around the Headquarters, and to be honest Leora was shocked that the crew had kept her around this long and not accused her of self-reporting the deaths.

And then the last one was Crewmate Green. His name was Wilder, but the crew had taken to calling him Wiley since a rough-and-tumble name like Wilder didn’t fit his sweet disposition. He was one of the first Crewmates that Leora had met and she had known within seconds of him opening his mouth that he was not fit for an environment like this. They’d struck up conversation and Wiley had latched onto her immediately. As they had been flying up in the Dropship, when there had been a bit too much turbulence for his liking, Wiley had reached over to shakily take Leora’s hand. It had caught her off guard, since at the time they’d barely known one another, but she had taken pity on him and given his hand a little squeeze, keeping him close and assuring him that everything would be just fine.

She’d smiled at him through her helmet, and she’d sworn that she could see him blushing behind his.

And now he was one of the last four. Leora hadn’t really been keeping track of him as she’d wandered about the Headquarters, but she was glad that he was alright. She went to go take a seat at the table, watching as Giant did the same.

There was a stretch of silence, and the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Finally, Leora decided to be the one to start the conversation, turning to Paige. “Where was the body?”

“In Admin,” Paige replied, and she shifted her gaze to stare Leora down. “I saw you jump into a vent.”

Leora blinked, immediately straightening up, her eyes widening. “What? I wasn’t anywhere near Admin.”

“Yeah!” Wiley piped up helpfully, although his voice trembled, like the rest of his body. If they made the wrong decision here, they were done for. “Lee wouldn’t kill anyone!”

Leora felt her heart clench. He was so sweet, and the nickname only made it sink in more just how attached he’d gotten. Part of her wanted to reprimand him for being so trusting with all of this going on, but she held her tongue. None of them really knew what to do in this situation, and they had all been coping in their own ways.

Paige huffed. “I saw her, Wiley. Well, maybe I didn’t see her actually make the kill, but I promise you I saw her jump into the vent! And you know that only Impostors can use the vents!”

Giant slowly raised a hand, clearing his throat. “Leora was with me,” he deadpanned in that low, almost growl-like voice of his. Maybe that was why he rarely spoke. “In the Lab.”

Wiley nodded quickly, his helmet almost rattling with the movement. “See? And I was at the Launchpad running diagnostics…So where were you, Orange?”

Paige’s head swiveled to glare at Wiley. “In Admin. Obviously. I was going to enter my ID code.”

Wiley shrunk down a bit, and Leora felt anger boil under her skin. Her mouth moved before she could think about it.

“Don’t snap at him,” she warned. “You say you saw me vent, Orange, but no one else was there with you. I’m starting to think that you killed White and are trying to cover your own ass by reporting it yourself.”

“Are you crazy? That would be so stupid,” Paige hissed, her posture tensing. “Black is just covering for you because he’s probably the other Impostor.”

That was a fair assumption, Leora admitted to herself. Giant’s tendency to stay quiet could come off as so clever it was almost suspicious, as if he was trying not to draw attention to himself. Leora hadn’t bothered following him around much, leaving him to his own devices, but they had gotten on just fine thus far.

So for now, Leora just rolled her eyes, still scrambling to defend herself so that she didn’t end up getting tossed into the clouds below Headquarters. “Sounds like something an Impostor would say, doesn’t it?”

“Shove it, Leora. It was you. I saw you.” Paige looked to Wiley again. “Come on, Wiley, you have to believe me. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”

It looked like Wiley was biting his lip, eyes darting between the other three Crewmates at the table. Paige had been friendly enough up until this point, and she did seem to be fairly observant and good at piecing things together. But now that there were only a handful of them left, she was fighting tooth and nail to keep her one remaining Crewmate safe. Or perhaps she was just trying to keep herself safe. She didn’t try to accuse Wiley at all, but Leora couldn’t blame her for that. When they’d found Blue’s body – his name had been Ben – Wiley had collapsed into Leora’s arms and sobbed, and unless he was secretly a theater star back home, there was no way he could act that well. He still seemed shaken now that White, named Felix, was gone, but he only had so many tears to shed.

“I don’t know…” he mumbled.

“It’s Leora, come on, you know I’m right!”

“But…b-but I can’t vote for Lee!” Wiley protested, nearly choking on his own words. “I love her!”

I love her.

Leora felt like somehow the blood had both rushed to and drained from her face at the same time, and she blinked at Wiley with big eyes. They had gotten close over the course of the mission, and Leora had tended to spend her free time in training and on The Skeld with him, but it seemed a bit too early to be saying it was love. Crew may be like family, but in a lot of ways, they were still strangers. Leora had no doubt that sometimes romances blossomed between Crewmates, but that wasn’t possible when there were Impostors running amuck, was it?

The room was silent for a long moment before Paige let out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over the front of her helmet. Leora heard her mutter, “no, you don’t” under her breath before she addressed Wiley again. “Love hurts, Wiley.”

“I…True…” Wiley still looked unhappy, peeking over at Leora, who just shook her head. There was a good chance that she was about to get ejected from the Headquarters, and while the thought was nowhere near ideal, as soon as MIRA had announced that there were Impostors that needed to be weeded out, all of the Crewmates had done their best to accept the very real possibility that their days were numbered. They would either get picked off by the Impostors or the crew would toss them out if they were acting suspicious enough. Leora just didn’t want to think about Wiley meeting his fate at the hands of the Impostors if she wasn’t here to keep an eye on him, and the idea made her heart squeeze uncomfortably in her chest.

“Please vote on your tablets for which Crewmate you believe to be the Impostor.”

Regardless of their argument, they had to come to some sort of conclusion. Leora pulled her tablet from her belt and glanced around the table quickly before she tapped on Paige’s picture and confirmed her selection. It had been awfully strange that Paige had been the one to find most of the bodies before now, and perhaps her deductions about other Crewmates was all a front to keep herself alive. If both Leora and Giant voted for Paige, and then Paige herself and Wiley voted for Leora, then they’d both be spared, but the tensions if that happened were no doubt going to be unbearable.

The others all tapped away at their own screens and then the vote closed. Leora waited with bated breath, heart hammering in her chest, for the results to calculate.

Honestly, what kind of system was this anyway, making them send one another to their deaths? Why couldn’t the potential Impostors be contained instead to avoid shedding the blood of innocents?

Finally, their tablets beeped, and Leora looked down. She couldn’t help a soft gasp.

Next to Paige’s picture were, unsurprisingly, Leora’s red helmet and Giant’s black.

But there was also Wiley’s green.

“What the fuck, Wiley?” Paige demanded, although her voice was quickly drowned out by the loudspeakers.

“Crewmate Orange to be ejected. Crewmate Orange, please proceed to the Launchpad.”

Everything was still for what felt like hours, but was no more than a few seconds. Finally, Paige slowly got to her feet, her entire body shaking as she did so. She narrowed her eyes at Leora and Giant, then more hesitantly at Wiley, before marching towards the door. Leora swore she heard her swallow down a sob as she went.

It was only a matter of minutes before they saw the flash of orange through the windows as she fell.

Leora swallowed the lump in her throat, let out a slow breath, and turned to Wiley. “…You didn’t believe her?”

“Of course not!” Wiley still looked frazzled by the whole episode but he managed to give Leora a little smile. “I could never vote for you. Besides, people had been commenting that she was near the other bodies a lot of the time. Now we just need to vote off Bla—”

“Two Impostors remain.”

Wiley froze, his entire body going rigid, and he looked up at the loudspeakers as if he was sure he had heard that wrong. Leora could almost feel the realization wash over him and he slowly – so slowly, horrified – looked across the table at her.

“You…Y-you…”

Leora sighed softly, glancing at Giant from the corner of her eye, and he easily rose to his feet. She did her best to look at Wiley evenly. “Sorry, love. But…a mission is a mission.”

She couldn’t help looking away as Giant drew his knife and rounded the table to approach Wiley, but she knew the sweet, ever so naïve face beneath that green helmet was still watching her. She sucked in a deep, quavering breath.

A mission is a mission.

[ourwrittenstories-arch]

○○Blog info~~

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Rules::

Rule one

Please be patient with me. I’m either stupid fast at replying or I take a few days. If it seems I’ve forgotten you, though, send me an IM

Rule Two

That being said I will reply when I feel like. I will always tell you if I need to drop a thread, if I take long it doesn’t mean I’ve dropped it. If you need to drop it because I’m taking too long, let me know. I promise not to be mad.

Rule Three

I will not RP with anyone under the age of 18, even if the thread has no smut. I’m sorry, but no. This is an adult oriented blog. Heavy themes, along with smut, will be regularly posted in rp formal and/or in images.

Rule Four

I will not RP with anime/cartoon/game FC’s (There are exceptions like RE8 chars). I will also not RP with any deceased FC’s

Rule Five

As awesome as it would be to be bilingual, I only speak and know English.  Anything you see me post that is not English was brought to you by Google Translate.

Rule Six

I do not have a verse page, but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to AU’s. I LOVE AU’s. I’m a multi-ship multi-post blog and am trash for any and all AU’s. Just ask!

Rule Seven

I can write a lot in my replies (And a lot of it can be unnecessary detail) but don't feel pressured to match my length! Just, please, try to give me something more than two sentences to work with. I don't typically enjoy writing short replies, but I understand muses can be fickle things.

Rule Eight

I don't enjoy pregnancy threads or writing children so I, typically, will steer clear of those types of threads. If our muses have been in a long relationship (and we have been writing partners for a while as well) I may make an exception, but don't come in expecting babies. My girls all have IUD's unless stated otherwise. That being said I am 100% down with the breeding kink.

Rule Nine

If a muse has (unknown) somewhere in their age it means they are old old. Like 100+, so age can be changed if you are uncomfortable with age gap.

Rule Ten

I have a handful of chronic issues that effect my sleep and my mood so I'm up all hours of the day. I live in EST time zone, but I'm often up at 4AM so.....it's a gamble lol!

Rule Eleven

I have SEVERE ANXIETY and struggle messaging new people. IF I FOLLOWED YOU I WANT TO RP WITH YOU! I'm probably just figuring out how to message you without puking lol. I would appreciate the help, if you want, or you can wait until I gather the enrve.

Rule Twelve

My grammar isn't the best in the galaxy, ok? I over use comma's and never really figured out the semi-colon. If something is horribly wrong or you can't understand what I've written, just ask please.

Rule Thirteen

I will tag major triggers (ie; Snakes, Spiders etc) but I won't tag smut or NSFW unless it really needs it.

Rule Fourteen

If I have ever posted a meme please feel free to send one in even if it was a year ago! With that in mind, I do prefer introduction threads with new muns/characters if I am not familiar with them.

Rule Fifteen

Don't like my starters

Rule Sixteen

Don't God-Mod blah blah and Follow TOS k I love you <3 <3

Muses:

Girls:

Inessa Morea

Nicknames: Nessy, Nessa, Ness Age: Unknwon (25) DoB: May 11th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Forest) Sexual Orientation: Bi-Curious Position: Sub (Potentially verse) Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Flourist Personality: Sweet, Curious, Oblivious, Playful, Innocent, Devious Face Claim: Candice King ○

Cassia Poole-

Nicknames: Cass, Cassy Age: Unknown (19-24) DoB: November 3rd Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Water(mermaid)) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Sub Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Student (Robotics and Marine bio-tech)/ Swim coach Personality:Innocent, Nerdy, Hyperactive, Bratty, Playful, Lame Face Claim: Jane Levy ○

 Amara Nyx

Nicknames: Marr Age: Unknown (32) DoB: Oct 13th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Underworld) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: None/ Sugar baby Personality: Smart ass, Rude, Bitchy, Judgmental, Hateful, Possessive, Affectionate Face Claim: Elizabeth Gillies ○

Laleh Narvaez

Nicknames: Lala Age: 25(600) DoB: Sept 4th Pronouns: She/Her Species:Lamia/Naga Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Argentina Occupation: Dancer/Jack of all Trades for Freak Show/Snake Charmer(Circus) Personality:Sharp, Sultry, Flirtatious, Seductive, Venomous Face Claim: Eiza Gonzalez ○

Samira Eve

Nickname: Sam, Sammy, Mira Age: (Unknown) 20-23 DoB: June 2nd Pronouns: She/Her Species: Air Nymph Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Verse Romantic Orientation: Panromantic Hometown: Boston Occupation: Thief/Courier Personality: Sarcastic, Smooth, Sassy, Flighty, Unreliable, Persuasive, troublemaker FC: Elisha Applebaum

○

Maybelline New-York

Nicknames: May Age: 28 DoB:Sep 17 Pronouns: She/Her Species: Zombie Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Sub Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New Orleans Occupation: None Personality: Shy, Angry, Mute, Hungry, Sassy" Bio: Maybelline has no memory of her life before she had been murdered at the age of 23. Hell, she's not even certain that's her age. Her name came from reading a magazine ad when asked who she was after walking into morgue. Zombies had been a small pest problem for a while now, usually obvious in their appearance and traits, but something inside of May kept her from fully succumbing to the sickness. All she felt was hunger and, after begging the mortician to, promptly sewed her mouth shut and clipped her nails. Now she speaks in sign or with a chalkboard she carries around to communicate. After weeks of study, it was discovered that Maybelline had a tumor that had taken over the majority of her brain, blocking the strain from traveling and taking her over. Face Claim: Camila Mendes ○

Juniper Lee

Nicknames: June, Junie Age:29 DoB: Feb 16th Pronouns: She/Her Species:Witch Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Submissive Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: Seoul until 5 then Massachusetts Occupation:Herbalist/Illusionist Personality:Soft spoken, Kind, Intelligent, Playful, Self Concious, Delicate, unsure Face Claim: Jamie Chung ○

 Barabelle Gunn

Nicknames: Belle, Belly, Bara Age:27 DoB: May 28th Pronouns: She/Her Species: Human Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: Killin Scottland Occupation: Hunter (supernatural) / Mercenary Personality: Brash, Rude, Sarcastic, Bull Headed, Loyal, Protective Face Claim: Karen Gillan AU Verses-  Resident Evil 8 Verse ○ Leora Brandr Nicknames: Leo Age: Unknown (26) DoB: Dec 21st Pronouns: She/Her Species: Nymph (Fire) Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Versatile Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Queens Occupation: Pilot/ Glass Blower Personality: Gentle, Kind, Shy, Short-Fused, Fiery, Passionate Face Claim: Daisy Ridley

Boys:

Carlyle Abrams

Nicknames: Lyle Age:32 DoB: April 16th Pronouns: He/Him Species:Human Sexual Orientation: Straight Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Straight Hometown: London Occupation: Private Investigator Personality: Charming,Calm, Kind, Playful, Posessive, Warm Face Claim: Adam Driver ○

Maxwell Ardeleane Nicknames: Max Age: Unknown (31) DoB: January 8th Pronouns: He/Him Species: Elder Vampire Sexual Orientation: Pansexual Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: Bucharest Romania Occupation: Mob Boss Personality: Charming, Polite, Sarcastic,Dark, Cruel, Posessive." Face Claim: Tyler Hoechlin ○ Syrian Nyx

Nicknames: Syrian Age: Unknown(34) DoB: Oct 13th Pronouns: He/Him Species: Nymph (Underworld) (Alpha) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Top/Dominant Romantic Orientation: Demiromantic Hometown: New York Occupation: Bank CEO Personality:Charming, Egotistical, Posessive, Rude, Dark Humor Face Claim: Oliver Jackson-Cohen ○ Esben Hvit

Nicknames: Esben, Ben, Es Age: 27 DoB: Oct 20 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Were-Raven (Albino) Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Vesatile Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Hometown:Seattle Occupation: Famous Writer(Penned under Raven White) Personality:Cocky, Quiet, Shy, Rude, Snarky, Intelligent Face Claim: Lucky Blue Smith ○

Carter Higgins

Nicknames: Carter, Car Age: 24 DoB: June 12 Pronouns: He/Him Species: Human Sexual Orientation: Bisexual Position: Vesatile Romantic Orientation: Biromantic Hometown: Nashville Tenn Occupation: Street/Bar Musician Personality:Sweet, Friendly, Romantic, Goofy, Playful Face Claim: Cody Christian

----

Canon characters:

Peter Hale: Teen Wolf

Chris Argent: Teen Wolf

Tags:

#selfie;(name) - Photo’s of characters

(name)Starter- Starter for specific character

#wanted opposite - Wanted partner or character to rp with

more TBA

[zhrianaa]

Lord of the Rings Aesthetics

Reblog and BOLD all that apply to your muse.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring - feel free to change pronouns as needed

Keep it secret. Keep it safe / It is precious to me, though I buy it with a great pain / a secret,  now, that only fire can tell / Throw yourself in next time, and rid us of your stupidity! / You shall not pass! / Fly, you fools! / The world is changed / I feel it in the water / I feel it in the earth / I smell it in the air / Much that once was is lost, for none now live who remember it / his cruelty, his malice and his will to dominate all life / But the hearts of Men are easily corrupted / And some things that should not have been forgotten were lost / History became legend. Legend became myth / Darkness crept back into the forests of the world / You will find your courage / May it be a light for you in dark places, when all other lights go out / I don’t know half of you half as well as I should like and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve / I’m sorry that you must have to carry this burden / I’m sorry for everything / There is no life in the void…only death / A wizard is never late, nor is he early; he arrives precisely when he means to / You’ve been officially labeled a ‘disturber of the peace’ / I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread / I need a holiday, a very long holiday / And I don’t expect that I shall return. In fact, I mean not to / Well, if I’m angry, it’s your fault! / Trust me, as you once did / I dare not take it. Not even to keep it safe / If I take one more step, I’ll be the farthest away from home I’ve ever been / You step onto the road, and if you don’t keep your feet, there’s no telling where you might be swept off to / Are you frightened? Not nearly frightened enough / They will never stop hunting you / Hear my voice. Come back to the light / I do not fear them / That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life / Long years have passed. You did not have the cares you carry now / I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone / You must trust yourself. Trust your own strengths / All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us / Not dark, but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! / All shall love me and despair! / I know what I must do, it’s just that… I’m afraid to do it / Even the smallest person can change the course of the future / I made a promise. A promise! ‘Don’t you leave him.’  And I don’t mean to!

Tagged by: @stonestridernerd Tagging: @vasdensoultreader @scarletlioness @lumealblackstrider @leora-strauss @ranekvilmas @olivia-lovecraft @anierous-sunblade And anyone else that wants to

[maramaja06]

Dee:  Hi Flo, you want one?

Floyden: No! I`m good! 

Floyden: Hey sweet little lady! Are you ready for the big adventure?

Rosie:  Don’t sweet me Flo! I said already I would... but not during a funeral and if the doors are closed... You won’t try to open them, all right?

Leora: I still think it’s stupid to go there again!  What d’ you really  want ?

Dee: You sure you won’t have one, Flo?

Leora: Oh stop it Dee! You’re not a sweet little lady but a big bold girl! Don’t throw you away! 

Floyden: You`re such an an ass, Leo! But she’s right, Dee! Why don’t you try your artsy friend here? If you don’t hurry your bigsis will get him first! Why is she here anyway? I thought we’re too stupid for her! 

Rosie: Oh stop it Flo! You too Leo! You’re such idiots! I beg her to come! 

Dee: Hey sis! What’ you do...? Of course! Stop keeping aside! Rosie won’t like it! 

Di: Sorry! I started reading and forgot the time! 

Dee:  Mal is also coming... 

Di:  Oh sh... ! If I had known that I wouldn`t have come... why haven’t you told me that Rosie?

Rosie:  Why are you so mean Di? He likes you very much and admires you all the way! 

Di: But I find simply annoying how he small talks me! He and his artistic fussing! 

Rosie:  I don’t know why you bare me Di! Maybe one day I`ll annoy  you too! And what do you have against art? your own sister loves painting...  I don’t understand you!  Not all can talk so demanding as the nerd fellows in your club! 

Di: It`s just... he laughs too much!  And he cries every time we watch a sad movie!  Such a weakling!  And his hair!  And the colours he uses!.... And... 

[lb-beachedkingsfan]

“Like many women, I routinely receive unwanted sexual attention. It happens when a stranger on a Manhattan street looks directly at my chest and makes a sexual comment… Men in suits with briefcases, men on a break from their construction job, men in baggy jeans and backward caps- I’ve gotten comments from them all. Now, there are instances when I desire to be desired, when I want to be sexually admired. But generally I don’t want to be sexualized in asexual contexts, such as a New York City sidewalk… For many men, woman equals sexual being, and sexual being means sexually available all the time. But I don’t want my femininity confused with my sexuality. This confusion flattens me into a nonthreatening, cartoon figure: My sexual identity becomes my only identity, my every other characteristic wiped out.

Rape is a thousand times worse: The ultimate theft of self-control, it often leads to a breakdown in the victim’s sense of self-worth. If rape is defined as full penetration occurring against a person’s will with the use or threat of force, then 1 in 8 American women is raped in her lifetime. 1/5 of American women have been forced to do something sexually at some point in their lives. 8% of high school age girls said yes when asked if “a boyfriend or date has ever forced sex against your will. More than 70% say they were worried about their families discovering they were raped. 2/3 worry they might be blamed for it.”

I was 15 when I became a statistic. He was my older sister’s friend. He used to come over play the guitar with me. He was funny and really cool. My parents thought it was a bit weird that he wanted to hang out with a younger girl, so we began to hang out secretly. We would get frozen yogurt or something. It was simple. Innocent. However, I began to lie to my parents since they began to make it harder for us to hang out. I began to go to “math tutoring” after school, when in reality I would hang out with him. One day we couldn’t figure out where to go when he picked me up from school so we went back to his house. We were watching cartoons when his sister got home, she was in the next room over when he stuck his hand down my pants. I didn’t know how to react so I just stared ahead at the TV. I didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t my first encounter with a boy like this so why was I so hesitant? He took his hand out when he heard his sister start to walk around. “How about I take you home now?”  I was relieved, I didn’t understand why it felt so wrong. We got into his car and he said “I’m sorry if I came on too strong in there, I had just been holding back for so long. You’re really pretty and it drives me crazy that I can’t have you.” Flattered, I just nodded and said “It’s okay”. He took a wrong turn. We were at a park. He parked his car in a secluded part and unbuttoned my jeans. I didn’t know what to do. If I said no he might get mad and leave me at the park stranded. I couldn’t call my friends, none of them drove. If I called my parents or my sister I’d be in so much trouble, so I sat and stared ahead in silence while he stuck his hand in me. I was in a lot of pain but all I could think about was getting in trouble so I stayed. He then unbuttoned his pants and pushed me down on him. I was choking, tears were flowing down my face and he just kept saying how much he liked the noises I was making. The noises of pain, the sound of my torture. He pulled me over the center console and pushed me onto him. It was the worst pain I had ever felt in my entire life. I was crying but he didn’t care. A cop car drove by, I hid my face, and they drove on. I could have screamed for help, but I kept thinking of what people were going to think if they heard about this, they’ll probably call me a slut or whore, they’ll probably think I deserved it, I guess I do.

I finally couldn’t take the pain anymore, the tears wouldn’t stop streaming down my face and I began to say “please stop it hurts so much” after about the fifth time I said it, he stopped. I pulled up my pants, he had gotten them dirty. I was so ashamed and I stayed quiet on the ride home. When I went inside my house I didn’t eat. I lied and said that I had eaten with my tutor. I went to my bed and slept all afternoon. The next day at school a girl in class commented about how I was walking funny… I lied and said I had hurt myself at the gym. That Friday my friends wanted to go to the football game. I lied and said I thought I was getting sick and probably shouldn’t go out.

I never saw him again after that. I never wore the bright pink sweater or jeans I wore that day again. I never spoke to anybody about what happened until a year later when I was sitting at home with a friend looking for a movie to watch and it just came out. I told her I hadn’t said no and he stopped when I said stop, so it couldn’t possibly be rape. She was the one who explained to me that just because I didn’t say “no” it wasn’t rape. I never said yes, it was not consensual. I had been abused.

Sometimes I still catch myself blaming me for what happened. Sometimes I get angry that I didn’t listen to my parents. Sometimes I choose not to go certain places because I might run into him. I always worry he did the same thing to some other girl and it’s my fault for not having spoken up before. I always wonder why he chose me to hurt. I always remember how sweet I used to think he was. For a whole year I was silent. For a whole year I hated myself for being stupid. I finally realized why it was wrong for a 19-year-old to want to be friends with a 15-year-old. I finally understood why he never kissed me, to him I was nothing more than a sexual tool. He probably never even truly thought I was pretty. To him I was just a way to please himself.

I became a statistic at fifteen years old, the world around me made me believe I was to blame because I was the one that wanted to be around him. I have a friend that became a statistic at six years old, are you still going to tell me it was her fault for trusting somebody?  How is it that there are still people telling us that we “need to accept the compliments we are given”, that we “need to lighten up about jokes”, that we “need to realize that boys will be boys”? There is a quote in the book SLUT! By Leora Janebaum that reads, “The average age when teens begin to have sexual intercourse is fifteen. That is much too young.” I agree with this, I was much too young, I was much too trusting. This crushed me, I had no confidence, I was afraid of being around guys for a while. I figured they all wanted what the other guy had gotten. Recently, I made myself realize, I did not ask for anything, it was not my fault, I grew past it and I restored my confidence. I refuse to let anybody take this from me ever again.

[mtwy]

Rolling Stone

USA May 9th 1985

On sale April 23rd 

How Rosanna Arquette, Madonna and director Susan Seidelman lost tempers and found each other through ‘Desperately Seeking Susan’

Lucky Stars

By Fred Schruers

Our ostensible subject is Desperately Seeking Susan, the bargain-budgeted ($5 million) little film, directed by Susan Seidelman, that went from being an oddball artistes showcase to Orion Pictures rush-to-release entry for the Easter-season box office. Though the picture breaks many rules, both artistic and commercial, the result is one of the fresher entertainments to make it through the Hollywood bottleneck in these formulaic times.

Part screwball comedy, part satire, part set designer’s equivalent to “out” jazz, Susan turns on mistaken identity. Arquette’s bored housewife, Roberta, follows the trail of Madonna’s gutterball schemer, Susan, into a slapdash murder mystery that scrambles suburbanites and hipsters into something between farce and freaky fable. Early on, Roberta gets a knock on the head that gives her amnesia, and the two undergo an identity switch, setting up a skein of sardonic jokes that bounce off the wall at unexpected angles. Madonna owned a platinum LP when she signed on to the project and has since earned a second one. The consensus, even among industry skeptics, is that the singer has the goods onscreen, too. What clearly has Arquette cutting conversational wheelies, though, is Orion’s promotion of the film, in which she seems to play background to Madonna’s phosphorescent pop icon. “Can you blame them?” she says. “A studio sees a hot commodity and they immediately capitalize on it. It’s a little misleading, because it’s not a teen movie. I know the preview has been playing before The Purple Rose of Cairo, and it’s been booed. The audience was people who love Susan Seidelman and who would go to see me, and that’s sad.” There are precious few young actresses who can give Rosanna a power outage, onscreen or off. From a speck on the horizon, hitchhiking cross-country and arriving in Los Angeles at age seventeen, she’s built a career mostly on the kind of quicksilver expressiveness she showed in Baby, It’s You and in TV’s The Executioner’s Song; at twenty-five, she’s in the front rank of actresses arriving at stardom. Today she drove in to Hollywood from her new house an hour up in the Topanga Canyon hills, leaving a coating of ocher dust behind the back tires of her otherwise gleaming Saab Turbo. Her silky, silvery dress is a bit of a war whoop among all the cut glass and linen of this Beverly Boulevard restaurant’s cool, mirrored spaces, yet there’s something more fundamental out of place. It’s as if her heart were thudding audibly, even visibly, while she charges forward and back in a virtual self-interview. “I’ve never been like this. I’m a wreck. I get hurt easily. I don’t have a tough shell. That’s why I’m so freaked out. I’m so insecure. I’m really insecure. It’s pretty stupid for me to be in this business, isn’t it?” Rosanna pauses, then gives a little tadpole wriggle with her right hand to signal that she’s not really waiting for an answer. She glances once more at the Polaroid and tucks it away. She can’t stifle these complaints, yet she can’t stand voicing them. “We’re great friends,” she concludes in her trigger-burst style. “All these things I said to her. I think her performance is really good. All I’m saying is, ‘Let her be an actress.'” “I had a few scenes where I was really sh*ttin’ bricks,” says the twenty-four-year-old refuge from Pontiac, Michigan. “A few times I was so nervous I opened my mouth and nothing came out.” Madonna is anything but mute tonight, as she takes a break from the Los Angeles rehearsal sessions for her first tour, and though she pauses occasionally to punctuate a phrase with a Mae West-ian secret smile, she lets you into the conversation only edgewise. “I think I surprised everybody, though, by being one of the calmest people on the set at all times. I think that had to do with the fact that I was in total wonderment: I was gonna soak everything up.” One keeps waiting for the brittle bitch, the self-absorbed bombshell who’s supposed to lurk under her winking, vamping, wriggling electronic image, but the Madonna who sits talking over coffee comes on disarmingly humble. Rosanna has expressed resentment over the insertion into the movie of a Madonna song backing a quickly rewritten scene in which the Susan character gyrates around a New York club. A video clip using the unreleased tune, “Into the Groove,” spotlights Madonna. “It does take things out of context a bit,” says Madonna, “kinda calls attention to another facet, but…” What that “but�� means is, it sells tickets, chumps. Still, it’s become an issue… “Yeah, really?” says Madonna. “Who’s it become an issue with – besides Rosanna?” Her laugh is quick and not unkind. Insiders say the song found its way into the film on its own virtues. “Susan Seidelman was not out to make a pandering rock & roll movie,” says executive producer Michael Peyser, 31, who worked on Susan after serving as associate producer on Woody Allen’s film The Purple Rose of Cairo. One of the music coordinators, Danny Goldberg, had no time to compile a soundtrack LP when the film’s release date was pushed up, but in talks with MTV execs, he paved the way for “Into the Groove” to air, even though the song might never show up on vinyl. Madonna is not naive about the studio’s gambit: “I have a big audience of kids for my music, and you know how they use soundtracks to push movies – I think they’re using me in the same way, and it’s really a drag, because I’m trying to establish myself as an actress, not as a singer making movies. But I’ll be happy if it becomes a commercial success, simply because it’s a different kind of movie than most of what’s out now. There are a few formulas people have been using the past five years, with Flashdance and Breakin’ and all that stuff; this movie is like a return to those simple, straightforward caper comedies Claudette Colbert and Carole Lombard made in the Thirties. They give you a taste of real life, some poignance, and leave you feeling up at the end – none of that adolescent-fantasy bullshit.” If Madonna is a fan of screwball comedy, Susan Seidelman is more intent on spray-painting her own signature on the canvas of the blank generation she grew up with. “I think I’m a little bit of a satirist,” she says. “I grew up in the epitome of Sixties suburbia. You know, Dunkin’ Donuts shops, TV dinners. We had canned vegetables at home because we thought it was more modern than having fresh vegetables. So that pop-Andy Warhol-whatever aesthetic is something I took for granted. “Inside that, I wanted to make a fable about identity and appearances. But this film isn’t an essay. I dislike movies in which the theme becomes the plot, where everything is like an essay on Loneliness or Frustrated Housewives of Sexual Whatever. If you look at movies like Some Like It Hot or Tootsie, you could probably write a lot about sexual roles, but the films don’t get bogged down in their message. To be able to show something rather than tell it is much more interesting, and the best devices are the ones that work most invisibly. I mean, if Rosanna’s character is torn between her husband and another guy, and we see her in a magician’s box being sawed in half – that works great if you think about it, but it’s gonna work on an immediate level, too. To me, a script is a skeleton that I liked enough to – well, hang my skin on.” The skeleton of Desperately Seeking Susan had been rattling around Hollywood for five years before finding its skin, and it would be there still were it not for a coming together of inspired amateurs who – not incidentally in this male-run industry – are mostly women. The script was the debut effort for Leora Barish, 36, who has quit life as sometime saxophonist in Manhattan’s East Village and moved to California seven years ago. She brought it to a close friend, Sarah Pillsbury (whi indeed is from Minnesota cake-mix clan her name evokes), who went from Yale to producing documentaries, including a 1979 Oscar winner. Teamed with friend Midge Sanford, savvy in the Byzantine ways of Hollywood development deals, Pillsbury optioned Barish’s script as their first project. It floared through studio limbo, gathering praise from many women and indifference from most men, but it refused to die. “We reconceived it as a lower-budget, up-and-coming-star kind of movie as opposed to using the older, established actresses we’d been talking about,” says Sanford, and finally Orion took up the option. Sanford and Pillsbury sent Arquette’s agent the script, and a week later, in June of last year, she signed up. The producers had been fans of independent filmmaker Susan Seidelman’s critically lauded debut film, Smithereens, and they tapped the director for Susan early on. Seidelman, 32, had come out of the split-level Philadelphia suburb of Abington, studied fashion design at Drexel University and clerked for a few months at a local TV station before applying to film schools; New York University “shocked” her with an acceptance. She moved to the Lower East Side in 1974, when St. Mark’s Place was a strip of shuttered hippie boutiques. She gravitated toward directing in the three-year course and began piling up awards with her twenty-eight-minute debut, “And You Act Like One, Too,” about a too-married woman. Smithereens, begun in 1980 with $10,000 from her grandmother’s will, became the surprise hit of the 1982 Cannes Film Festival. (“I think they wanted to make a statement about mainstream American films,” she says diffidently.) In it, young actress Susan Berman played Wren, a sort of punk-rock groupie living by her wits against the harsh and indifferent backdrop of the Lower East Side and it’s punk rajah, Richard Hell. Shooting was delayed when Berman, racing along a row of loft windows, ran out of fire escape (“like some horrible Road Runner cartoon,” recalls Seidelman) and broke a leg. Still, Seidelman brought it in for $80,000, and it earned plenty more – enough to buy her a SoHo loft whose spotless varnished-wood floors and sparse, Sixties-gauche furnishing hardly mirror the unkempt world of her films. So messy and wheedling are her heroines that Seidelman’s films seem to have at least one foot in the genre pundits are calling “slob comedies.” Madonna’s Susan is an empress of trasg, a libidinous but untouchable she-wolf who washes down cheese puffs with vintage wine, cadges triple tequila sunrises and steals other peoples’ goods and services with an amiable, Pigpen-ish air. Madonna admits that when she arrived in New York in 1978, she, like Susan, “relied on the kindness of strangers.” When Seidelman heard of the singer’s interest in the part, she invited her over: “She was nervous and vulnerable and not at all arrogant – sweet, but intelligent and verbal, with such a sense of humor. I just started seeing her as Susan.” The chiefs at Orion were skeptical – some 200 actresses had read or been video-taped for the part – so Madonna was given a screen test. “She had this presence you couldn’t get rid of,” says Sanford. “No matter how good the other people were, we kept going back to that screen test.” “Susan is conniving, an opportunist,” says Madonna, “but she really did care about {Roberta’s husband} Gary Glass and her boyfriend, Jim, and all these people.” Part of her cockeyed charm is a warmth underlying her aloof facade: “Anybody who goes around acting like nobody matters obviously is protecting themselves and hiding what they really feel. So I always wanted to have that little underneath there.” What underneath may be the “little tiny girl” Arquette is sure she sees in Madonna – perhaps the girl whose mother died when she was six. “I knew I had to be extra special supercharming to get what I wanted, ’cause I grew up with a lot of brothers and sisters {she was the theirs of eight children}, and we had to share everything, I did all I could to really stand out, and that nurtured a lot of confidence and drive and ambition.” Poet Edward Field wrote that Mae West “comes on drenched in a perfume called Self-Satisfaction,” and it’s a knack Madonna shared. She and Seidelman had a decent repport, but conflicts between the young director and three precocious pros – Arquette, Laurie Metcalf (as Roberta’s vituperative sister-in-law) and Aidan Quinn (as Roberta’s love interest) – were frequent. Production veteran Michael Peyser often picked up the pieces. “Susan has a wonderful quality; she guileless, totally honest,” he says, but he pegs her as a Hitchcock-style director: “She comes from filmmaking, as opposed to directing. She was working with excellent people, like Laurie and Aidan, who are and will be major stage actors of their generation; they’re used to a little more stroking.” “I really do like actors,” says Seidelman. “I’m not manipulative, at which Hitchcock prided himself. I’m not good at hiding what I feel. I can’t say, ‘Oh, brilliant’; when I’m unhappy, it’s written on my forehead.” Amid the production’s turmoil, Madonna took consolation from Mark Blum (so likably obtuse onscreen as Roberta’s husband, Gary). “If I’d get upset, he’d take me aside and tell me a joke or make an analogy about the situation, chill me out.” Rosanna, fresh from her dream collaboration with director Martin Scorsese on his forthcoming After Hours, was not to be chilled out. She and Seidelman staged tense debates over the degree of Roberta’s amnesia, and during one twenty-hour day, an angry Rosanna burst into tears. Stalled and frustrated, Seidelman cried too. “You could say it was cathartic,” says Seidelman. “You scream, cry, get it out and go on.” “Our whole souls were in it,” says Rosanna now, “but any film I’ve ever made was hard. By the second month, she would look at me and I would know what she wanted. It’s just that I had never worked with a director who needed complete control of me. See, I never rehearse my lines exactly how I’ll say them. I just memorize them and know my character.” While making After Hours, she points out, Scorsese was “never negative. In one situation he came up to me and said, ‘Do you think you should laugh in this scene?’ and I said, ‘Oh, no, Marty. I can’t see where she’d laugh in this scene.’ He said, ‘Oh, yeah. You’re right. You’re right. Forget I ever said anything.’ And he walks away. That’s what he does, very subtly. It’s like he planted the seed, watered it and split. And as I was doing the scene, I don’t know where it came from, but I just started laughing.” Arquette also had few problems making Lawrence Kasdan’s next film, Silverado. “I’m just a pioneer woman heading west who has a very strong vision. And she wants to work her land.” She’s completed two other projects, a public television play, Survival Guide (“It’s just a very bizarre half-hour comedy”) and the recent disaster The Aviator, which prompted At the Movies reviewer Gene Siskel to say, “This is garbage,” while Roger Ebert confirmed, “Transcendentally bad.” Rosanna’s one-time boyfriend, Toto drummer Steve Porcaro, had been so upset at the love scene in The Executioner’s Song that she says she made The Aviator partly because “it didn’t have any nudity, it was safe – one of those all-American kind of movies.” Her eventual breakup with Porcaro spurred her recent spate of work. Now Arquette is with L.A.-based record producer James Newton Howard, and things seem… serious: “We work hard on our relationship. We have an incredible therapist. Our guy’s name is Don, and he’s great. We’re gonna work out all the shit in our relationship before we make a giant decision like getting married. “I don’t want to talk about my relationship with Steve Porcaro anymore,” she says, with some heat. “We’re very good friends. But everybody’s gotta ask me, ‘Well, you’re the Rosanna in the song,’ and blah-blah. Isn’t it boring? Say this: ‘I am so bored talking about my relationship with Steve Porcaro.'” She made another change around the time of the breakup. “I had gone to drug program with a friend. That was another thing {reported in the media}, that I was the one with a drug problem. I did take drugs. I smoked a lot of pot. I don’t think I was an addict.” (These days, Rosanna will not touch drink or drugs, and her choice for lunch is a spinach-and-avocado salad and mineral water.) “Life is wonderful. Why do you guys have to look for the shit? ‘Cause it’s bad karma for you to do that, do you know that? It’s not proper journalism.” It has become clear that Rosanna just had a crash course on this subject: “I did nine interviews yesterday.” The actress and her publicist seem determined to blow back the Madonna promo machine by filibuster. The problem is that the quick-draw dramatics that are a blessing in front of the camera make her emotional dynamometer shudder ominously during what should be a simple talk. “I grew up pretty fast,” she says of her gypsy-like upbringing on the artsy-hippie circuit traveled by her actor father and writer mother. “I think I was nineteen when I was fifteen. And now I’m fifteen. Madonna taught me a good lesson, because she just laughs off the band press. They think they’re hurting her, and she just laughs: ‘Ah, that’s bullshit.’ But I still get hurt.” She’s balancing her promo chores with acting class: three times a week, she joins a group of about fifteen (Nicolas Cage among them) for four-to-five-hour-sessions with Sandra Seacat. “She’s also Jessica Lange’s coach,” says Rosanna. “She’s a very spiritual, highly realized being, a guru.” Her list of professional heroines includes Lange, Christie, Hawn, Winger and Spacek, but hovering above them all is Natalie Wood. The cat who shares Rosanna’s hillside retreat is named Natalie, and when Arquette was being costumed for her character in Baby, It’s You, she balked at a pageboy haircut until someone reminded her it recalled Natalie. Wood is an interesting point of reference for Arquette – two beauties whose acting carries a seemingly artless transparency. Right now, Rosanna is a capital-A Actress, and as a result she’s in many ways a considerable snob. But for the last three pictures she shot, she took pay cuts that left her with perhaps half of her real price. She’s pouring her life into her work, and that leaves rough edges. She’s walking contradiction in terms, a Topanga Canyon firecracker. Rosanna abruptly jumps up and reaches into her coat pocket, fetching a plastic bag of sizeable vitamins in assorted colours. She counts out a handful, recounts and down them with water: “Stress depletes your body of vitamin B and C.” As an afterthought, she pops one more. The ritual seems to take the pedal off the floor, and she looks across the table apologetically, coat over her arm. “This is who I am, just hyper and emotional. I always have been. My emotions have always been right there.”