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me, sitting here, reconsidering this blog from mobile while rose sits in a corner calmly shaping her nails.

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rose, as soon as i log in: change that fucking header

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possessive-suggestions:

What do you mean, they hurt you? Where? How? Show me. Tell me. I’ll rip them to pieces.

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Do you ever just get really angry? Like…I never got a childhood. Not a good one, at least. And that’s so fucking unfair.

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Luisa: :(

Rose:

✵ 🤷‍♀️ . ✵ . * . 🔪👴🏼 *

. ✵ . * .🏳️‍🌈

* * . . * . 👩‍❤️‍👩 . * *. . *. 🍩

🥀 . * * *. ✵ .

. ✵ * . 👩🏻‍🦰🕵🏼‍♀️

Luisa: rOsE

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This love

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— 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍   !

– one / NAME / ALIAS.  parker – two /  BIRTHDAY.   november, shortly after rose’s. – three / ZODIAC SIGN.   scorpio sun, aries moon, capricorn rising – four /  HEIGHT.   ...also 5′3″-ish. – five  /  HOBBIES.   writing, reading, playing with my kitties, hgtv, music (sound mixing, guitar, etc.) – six /  FAVORITE COLORS.   soft blue, soft purple, deep purple, black, silver – seven / FAVOURITE BOOKS.   east of eden, john steinbeck.  the little prince, antoine de saint-exupery.  sappho’s poetry. – eight  /  LAST SONG LISTENED TO.   we know, hamilton, although i didn’t finish it. – nine  /  LAST FILM SEEN.   birds of prey.  ask me tomorrow, and it’s probably going to be doctor sleep. – ten  /  INSPIRATION FOR MUSE.   silk hiding steel who grows soft for her lover.  (also bitterness at the tv series and jennie snyder urman for the writing in the last season particularly her last episode and the bullshit of an idea that she let luisa get blackout drunk.)  ...perhaps a lot of it is that bitterness aspect. – eleven  / DREAM JOB.   being paid to write fiction. – twelve  / MEANING BEHIND YOUR URL.   sin rostro literally means the faceless.  it’s the name rose has for herself and the one the show refuses to let her leave behind. tagged by: @vorcotec tagging: @pulitzerpanther, @indemimonde, @multifacet-ed, @ofpowersuits

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So Bridget decided it was a good idea to post this and break my heart again hm?

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great way to start pride month 🤤

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BRIDGET YOU DIDN’T. THIS WAS SO GAY. (ALSO YARA’S FACE OMG SO CUTE)

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roisa + ao3 tags collection so far

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tag yourself!

lip gloss- good at arguing, sings a lot when alone, likes attention, gets tired easily, provides good hugs, midnight conversations, really supportive & accepting

eyeliner- chill but gets stressed often, likes writing & drawing, makes a lot of small but dumb mistakes, wants to travel around the world, has underrated humor

blush- spends a lot of money, loves empty cafés, talks too much, cute earrings and pink aesthetics, the psychologist friend, confident but insecure at the same time

chapstick- uses emojis ironically, hella social anxiety, says they’re bad at art but they’re probably not, peach soft drinks, the reasonable friend

mascara- bullet journaling, gets injured a lot, intimidating but is actually soft ™, strawberry milk, screwed up sleep schedule, odd humor

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deathless ♚ sentence meme

You will always fall in love, and it will always be like having your throat cut, just that fast.

You are going to break your promise. I understand.

You’re lonely too.

It will stop your breath, how cruel I can be.

I am a demanding creature. I am selfish and cruel and extremely unreasonable.

I am your servant.

I crawl at your feet; for before your love, your kisses, I am debased.

For you alone I will be weak.

I belong here, and you will not deny me.

I say these things, and the world listens.

I do not tolerate a world emptied of you. I have tried.

In the dark, I have pored over the loss of you like pale gold.

I will not let her speak because I love her, and when you love someone, you do not make them tell war stories.

I moved the earth and the water for you.

You will always run away with her.

You will always lose her.

You will always be a fool.

You will always be dead, in a city of ice, snow falling into your ear.

You have already done all of this and will do it again.

No one should be judged for loving more than they ought, only for loving not enough.

We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying.

What we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.

There need never be any rules between us.

Let us be greedy together; let us hoard.

Do not leave me, swear that you will never leave me.

I am selfish. I am cruel. My mate cannot be less than I.

Sleep with fists closed and shoot straight.

I can’t abide a poor liar.

You look like a winter’s night. I could sleep inside the cold of you.

Oh, quit that. Blushing is for virgins and Christians.

Scold me; deny me. Tell me you want what you want and damn me forever. But don’t leave me.

Bad luck relies on absolutely perfect timing.

In his own country, Death can be kind.

What is the world but a boxing ring where fools and devils put up their fists?

Men die. It’s practically what they’re for.

I am no one; I am nothing.

Nothing in me was not made by you.

A revelation is always the end of something. It might even be cause for grief.

Just tell yourself a story that’ll satisfy you and pretend he told it.

Forever isn’t bright; it isn’t like that. Forever is cold and hard and final.

I savor bitterness - it is born of experience. It is the privilege of one who has truly lived.

If you want to kill yourself, do not use us as your knife.

What did I do wrong? Was I boring? Did I ignore you?

Don’t you dare speak to me like that.

I have worn nothing but blood and death for years.

I have fought all your battles for you, just as you asked me.

I have learned not to cry when I strangle a man.

I have learned to watch everything die.

I am not a little girl anymore, dazzled by your magic. It is my magic, now, too.

Are we not devils?

No one is now what they were before the war.

I have not seen you without your skin on.

Close up your head; your brain is getting loose.

We obsess. It’s in our nature.

I’ve a devil of a habit for being right.

In war you must always choose sides.

If you try to be a bridge laid down between them, they will tear you in half.

We are all dead. All equal. Broken and aimless and believing we are alive.

My old bones will follow yours soon enough.

It is better to be strong and cruel than to be fair.

I will see him with his skin off before I agree to fall in love.

After love, no one is what they were before.

I have survived, but I have not been spared.

In the space of one heartbeat to another I loved you and I was lost to you.

Frighten me, make me cry, only come back.

It’s not so bad, my darling. Being dead. It’s like being alive, only colder.

You’ll think it’s love, while he dines on your heart.

You will be so beautiful when you are old.

I cannot keep you and I cannot let you go.

You will live as you live in any world…with difficulty, and grief.

I look at you and it is like my throat being cut.

She said you’d come and I swore to eat your heart.

I still want to kiss you.

My heart is being cut in two. I cannot bear it.

What happens to anything beautiful?

I have to know, I have to or else you will just rule me until the end of everything because you know and I do not.

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pulitzerpanther:

“Oh, I’m sure you can. But this close to me? Hmm–” An elbow stretches out on the slick surface of the scratched bar, expensive, pressed fabric swishing in a careful dip of her wrist. Cat gives the woman her full attention, unwavering, a singular eyebrow arching. The spear of her gin’s war-pike dips underneath the manicure of a nail as she stops it against the rim. “You don’t just want a drink.”

                   “no one just wants anything.  there are a million other things they want at the same time: sex, money, world peace.”  her head cants to one side, red hair falling about fingertips.  “that isn’t even considering the motivations for a drink: sex, information, thirst.”  the bartender returns with his offering, and she palms it between two hands, if only for the cool against her skin.  “you’re asking me to separate my wants and intentions from a drink, and i’m not sure i can do that.  but i assure you,” the smile lingers as she finally turns to face the other, “the desire is mostly,” her eyes do not linger the way her lips do as they wander, “thirst.”

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pulitzerpanther:

“Hmm, now that you mention it,” Cat hums, eyes barely slitting as if she’s thinking to herself, “You do look a bit like a fox don’t you?”

                  “i’ll take that as a compliment.”  as most unknowing people would do, so rose does.  better fox than vixen, and better either than worker bee.  her body suit feels as though it is stretched to its breaking point, the lack of freckles dotting her skin an instinctive choice even if the reasoning has been lost in the last millennium or so, and tattoos are so commonplace these days that no one remembers what hers means.  it is an easy world for a fox these days.  “you, on the other hand, look nothing like a cat.”

@pulitzerpanther​ | cont. |  "so many things are done instinctively, the way a bee makes honey or a fox dips his paws in a stream to fool dogs."