#rosaceaevularis

[gnarledbite]

4. What does your muse wear to sleep?

Tidbit Headcanons || Accepting!

Either a shirt and long pants or just the long pants (if he hasn't just fallen into bed wearing what he's been in all night). 

[aintyourpuddin-moved]

rosaceaevularis:

[text]  And you think that will make what you did okay? [text] ….   [text]  Lose the t-shirt and /maybe/.

[text] t-shirt yes

[text] mac and cheese no

[text] I endured a lot of ogling for this mac and cheese. it was an impulse buy and my shirt was already wet. do you see the hellish gauntlets I put myself through for you woman

[aintyourpuddin-moved]

✧

✧ : What does your muse think the meaning of life is?

For most of her life, Harley had doubts that there was any “big picture” or “plan” for people to follow; if that was the case, why did hers involve a father who was more in prison than out, a mother who was emotionally distant, and a brother who made her puke because he thought it was funny to watch her grimace at the taste of tuna fish? After Guy’s death, however, she struggled with finding meaning in anything. She was extremely depressed, she couldn’t focus, the only thing that really made her feel at all was the thrill she got from being in the same room as a psychotic mass murderer. And the more she got to know the Joker, the more she realized that he was chaos, and he was the only thing that made sense to her anymore. She came to believe that there was no meaning, no divine intervention or overarching scheme— just people, doing the things that people do. Just randomness and chaos that you’ve got to enjoy while you can.

[bad-jew-jew]

// Spider Jerusalem! because I'm asking to see if he's on anybody's list but my own ; n ;

NO BUT DANG GOOD CALL

should i do hints like give the fandom?

Poison Ivy - dear-spidey

[hearxmexroar-blog]

rosaceaevularis​:

“Don’t presume that our acquaintanceship permits you to  s l i n k  into my home uninvited,” her face was impassive, obfuscating the barely contained fury.  Intruders were not tolerated.  Even those Ivy held some spark of affection for — the slightest  flicker of camaraderie, friendship, and companionship — were expected to make their arrival known before their appearance.  Ivy was ultimately a fiercely independent creature that deeply valued her solitude.  Those who sought to infringe on that were not appreciated.

"Well, someone got out on the wrong side of the bed this morning." The indifference which laced her voice matched the one resting amidst Ivy's features, which were momentarily the focus of Selina's gaze. In a way, she more than understood the reaction aimed at her unannounced presence; as she valued her own solitude just as much if not more, but— it's a cat's world after all, right? Urges are followed up on, not always considering the consequences, or rather; they weren't cared about much, "—I'll make sure to cause an uproar to announce my arrival next time."

[prettylittle-harlequin-blog]

closed||rosaceaevularis

Harley knew the last place she should be going was to Pam's, but she had nowhere else to go. It'd taken her almost an hour to build up enough courage to knock on the door, but she couldn't sleep in the alley again - she just couldn't take it. It was cold, and lonely and the noises and the guns scared her. The Joker had thrown her out, and she subconsciously did it on purpose.  

The scene played back in her head. "No, Mistah J! I don't want to go this time, I love her!"....

But it was no use. He got what he wanted, because he always got what he wanted - but she had no contact with the woman since that day, and she had no idea how she felt - not after that. Not after the way J had hurt her. Harley had to close her eyes when he hit Pamela. She couldn't watch - never.

She was still in costume as she crept up to Pam's doorstep, her small knuckles rapping on the wood hesitantly - her blond head looking down at her small feet, her toes wiggling inside her shoes. Her hear was hammering and she felt like she was going to cry. "Please Pam.." she whispered.