#mama rose

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

Guys, I love you all to bits–and I'm obsessed with Patti just as the rest of you. But, my brothers in christ, I bEG of you to stop mischaracterizing her roles as patti clones. it's frankly a little insulting to patti's insane acting range! I really don't think Patti and Lilia Calderu, per se, act or talk or think alike at all, for example. And while she does bring a very particular, italian, patti-edge to everyone she plays, she still plays them entirely different to each other. Lilia may have Patti mannerisms, a Patti essence of sorts, but she's very different to our girl. Same applies to Joanne, to Avis Amberg, to Nellie Lovett, to Reno Sweeney, to Joan Ramsey, to Evita Perón, (fucking Evita Perón-) to Kitty Duval, to Libby Thatcher, to Fantine, Norma Desmond, Mama Rose, Helena Rubenstein, Maria Callas?? Joan Clayton, Dr Seward?? 😭🙏 Her acting isn't even the same in two performances of the same character, I think it's a little underwhelming to portray all her characters as entirely Patti just because of her icon status and the fact we all want to sleep with heR-

[dailyd0ses]

A Rose Without Thorns Pt. 2

Mama Rose from Gypsy on Broadway x Female Reader

The night stretched on, but for the first time in what felt like years, Rose slept.

It wasn’t a deep sleep—she tossed and turned, mumbling in her dreams, fingers twitching as if she were still conducting some unseen orchestra—but it was sleep nonetheless. And in the quiet hours before dawn, when the city outside your window softened into a gentle hum, you found yourself lying awake, thinking about the woman now resting under your roof.

Rose Hovick. The infamous stage mother, the woman who built stars and burned bridges, who had spent her life chasing dreams that never truly belonged to her. The same woman who, just hours ago, had been sitting on a cold bench with nowhere to go.

She was a force of nature. But even storms had to settle eventually.

By morning, the scent of fresh coffee filled the apartment. You were already up, seated at the small kitchen table, flipping idly through a newspaper when you heard the shuffle of footsteps.

"Smells good," Rose muttered, voice rough with sleep.

You glanced up to see her standing in the doorway, draped in her fur coat over the same dress from last night, though now slightly wrinkled. Her hair was tousled, but not in a careless way—it softened her somehow, made her look less like Madame Rose and more like just Rose.

"Hope you take it strong," you said, pushing a mug toward her.

She let out a tired chuckle as she sat across from you. "Darling, after the life I’ve had? The stronger, the better."

She took a sip and sighed, her whole body seeming to deflate just a little.

For a while, there was only the quiet sound of coffee cups clinking against saucers.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"So, what’s your story?"

You raised an eyebrow. "My story?"

"You took me in last night like it was nothing," she said, studying you over the rim of her mug. "Either you’re a saint, or you’ve got your own ghosts keeping you up at night."

You smirked. "Maybe both."

Rose hummed, as if she weren’t entirely convinced, but she let it go.

Instead, she leaned back, tapping her fingers against the side of her mug. "I don’t know what the hell I’m doing," she admitted.

"With what?"

She gestured vaguely. "With this."

You tilted your head. "With staying here?"

"With..." She hesitated, searching for the words. "With letting someone help me. With letting myself stop for once."

That caught your attention.

"You’ve never stopped before, have you?" you asked gently.

She gave a short, humorless laugh. "Not once."

You studied her for a moment, then leaned forward slightly. "Maybe it’s time you did."

She scoffed. "And do what, exactly?"

You shrugged. "Figure out what you want. Not for June. Not for Louise. Not for show business. Just you."

Rose fell silent at that, her fingers tightening slightly around her cup.

It was a terrifying thought, wasn’t it? She had spent her whole life chasing dreams on behalf of others. What was left when there was no one left to chase for?

Finally, she exhaled, shaking her head. "You really are something, you know that?"

You grinned. "So I’ve been told."

A small smile tugged at the corner of her lips, but there was something else in her eyes now. A quiet curiosity. A shift.

"You could stay," you offered before you could stop yourself. "At least for a little while. Until you figure things out."

Rose arched an eyebrow. "Are you always this generous with broken women?"

"Only the interesting ones."

She let out a low chuckle, shaking her head. "You’re dangerous, kid."

You smirked. "Not half as dangerous as you."

For a long moment, she just looked at you, something unreadable flickering across her expression. And then, ever so slightly, she nodded.

"Alright," she murmured. "I’ll stay."

Rose stayed.

At first, it was temporary. A few days, she told herself. Maybe a week, just until she figured out her next step. But days turned into weeks, and weeks stretched into something that neither of you bothered to name.

She made herself at home in small ways. Leaving her fur coat draped over the back of your couch. Setting her coffee cup in the sink but never actually washing it. Fixing the placement of your picture frames with an absentminded precision, as if she were arranging props for a show.

She still carried the weight of years spent fighting, pushing, demanding—but in your space, she started to ease, bit by bit.

One night, you found her in the kitchen, sleeves rolled up, scrubbing a dish with the same intensity as if she were directing an orchestra.

"You don’t have to do that, you know," you said, leaning against the doorway.

She scoffed. "What, you think I don’t know how to do dishes?"

"I think you’ve spent too many years having other people do them for you."

She smirked. "Well, maybe I’m finally learning to fend for myself."

"That’s assuming I kick you out," you teased.

Rose turned her head slightly, giving you a long, unreadable look. Then, to your surprise, she sighed and muttered, "You’d be a fool to keep me around, you know."

"Why’s that?"

"I ruin everything I touch." She rinsed the dish a little too forcefully, the water splashing over the sink. "Everyone leaves. Even when I give ‘em the world, they still go."

"You didn’t give them the world, Rose," you said gently. "You gave them a dream. There’s a difference."

She stiffened.

For a moment, you thought you’d pushed too far. But then, she let out a breath and shut off the sink.

"You’re a smart one, aren’t you?" she muttered.

You smiled. "So I’ve been told."

She grabbed a towel, drying her hands with slow, thoughtful movements. Then, she turned to face you fully, leaning against the counter.

"You never told me why you took me in that night," she said.

You shrugged. "Because you looked like you needed it."

"That’s it?"

"That’s it."

She studied you, her sharp gaze searching, as if trying to decipher a script that hadn’t been written yet.

"You know, I’ve never—" She stopped herself, clicking her tongue. "Ah, never mind."

You tilted your head. "Never what?"

She hesitated.

Then, with an almost defiant lift of her chin, she said, "Never been looked at the way you look at me."

The words settled in the air between you, delicate and dangerous all at once.

You swallowed, holding her gaze. "And how do I look at you?"

Rose exhaled sharply, like she couldn’t believe she was even having this conversation. "Like I’m more than just the mess I’ve made."

You took a step closer. Not too close—just enough to let her know you were listening. That you saw her.

"You are more than that," you said softly.

She didn’t look away.

For once, Rose—who had spent her whole life running, chasing, fighting—didn’t retreat.

Instead, she nodded. Just slightly. Just enough.

And for the first time in a long, long time, she allowed herself to believe it.

[jubshead]

Hey guyss

My lovelies from the Patti LuPone fandom, I’ve created a tag on ao3 so that we can post Patti’s non protagonist characters fanfiction and find them more easily!!

As an ao3 lover, I felt like this was needed

LINK

[delusionalforolderwomen]

I need a time machine specifically to go back in time and watch every show patti lupone has been in😩😩

[kenzie-floops]

Moodboard inspired by "Rose's Turn" (aka Mama Rose's full crashout) from Patti Lupone's revival of "Gypsy" in 2008!

Here's the video that inspired me: https://youtu.be/OTdPWmHstjE?si=uPa0MWVek_vMjCZD

And the full performance of the show can be seen here: https://youtu.be/gFTnBdH99Zg?si=oRRB73MoTin4wNL-

(totally worth the watch Lupone EATSSSS the role of Mama Rose upppp)

Let me know if you like it, or want more moodboards for Lupone's characters. I take requests!!

[dianessunflower]

Happy opening night to Audra Gypsy at the Majestic Theater!

[bikinibottomdayz]

DECEMBER 25, 2024 RELEASE

All my videos can be found here, full release under the read more! I am also offering the two Gypsy videos as a bundle for 30 USD! If interested, please contact me at bikinibottomtrading@gmail.com!

This release includes: Gypsy (first and last preview), Elf, Eureka Day, Hamilton

ELF November 22, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (8.85GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Grey Henson (Buddy), Kayla Davion (Jovie), Ashley Brown (Emily), Michael Hayden (Walter Hobbs), Sean Astin (Santa/Mr. Greenway), Kai Edgar (Michael), Jennifer Sánchez (Deb), Kalen Allen (Macy's Manager), Corinne C Broadbent (Mrs. Claus), J Savage (Ensemble), Michael Milkanin (Ensemble), Halli Toland (Ensemble), David Paul Kidder (Ensemble), Clifton Samuels (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this modernized revival! Some obstruction when latecomers get seated, mostly in the first act and beginning of the second act. Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBSFuL | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

EUREKA DAY December 6, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (6.88GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Amber Gray (Carina), Jessica Hecht (Suzanne), Bill Irwin (Don), Thomas Middleditch (Eli), Chelsea Yakura-Kurtz (Meiko) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this new play! Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBUkSw | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

GYPSY November 21, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (11.81GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Audra McDonald (Rose), Danny Burstein (Herbie), Joy Woods (Louise), Jordan Tyson (June), Kevin Csolak (Tulsa), Lesli Margherita (Tessie Tura), Lili Thomas (Mazeppa), Mylinda Hull (Electra/Miss Cratchitt), Marley Lianne Gomes (Baby June), Jacob Ming-Trent (Uncle Jocko/Kringelein), Kyleigh Vickers (Baby Louise), Jade Smith (Uncle Jocko Kid), Jace Bentley (Carmichael/Newsboy), Brandon Burks (Georgie), Hunter Capellán (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Tony d’Alelio (Little Rock), Summer Rae Daney (Balloon Girl), Kellie Jean Hoagland (Edna), Aliah James (Geraldine), Brittney Johnson (Agnes), Zachary Daniel Jones (Angie), Ethan Joseph (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Andrew Kober (Mr. Goldstone/Cigar/Bourgeron-Cochon), Krystal Mackie (Thelma), James McMenamin (Weber/Pastey/Phil), Cole Newburg, Majo Rivero (Dolores), Sally Shaw (Marjorie May/Renée), Brendan Sheehan (Yonkers), Thomas Silcott (Pop), Jayden Theophile (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies/Newsboy) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this show’s first preview! There was a tech hold 53 minutes into Act One that is cut out. Minor railing and head obstruction cut off a little bit of action, mostly worked around well. Increased wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBSJVa | ASKING $20 USD OFFERED AS A $30 BUNDLE WITH DECEMBER 18, 2024 NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

GYPSY December 18, 2024 (E) | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (11.16GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Audra McDonald (Rose), Danny Burstein (Herbie), Joy Woods (Louise), Jordan Tyson (June), Kevin Csolak (Tulsa), Lesli Margherita (Tessie Tura), Lili Thomas (Mazeppa), Mylinda Hull (Electra/Miss Cratchitt), Marley Lianne Gomes (Baby June), Jacob Ming-Trent (Uncle Jocko/Kringelein), Summer Rae Daney (Baby Louise), Jade Smith (Uncle Jocko Kid), Jace Bentley (Carmichael/Newsboy), Brandon Burks (Georgie), Hunter Capellán (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Tony d’Alelio (Little Rock), Kyleigh Vickers (Balloon Girl), Sasha Hutchings (s/w Edna), Jordan Wynn (s/w Geraldine), Brittney Johnson (Agnes), Zachary Daniel Jones (Angie), Ethan Joseph (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Andrew Kober (Mr. Goldstone/Cigar/Bourgeron-Cochon), Krystal Mackie (Thelma), James McMenamin (Weber/Pastey/Phil), Cole Newburg, Majo Rivero (Dolores), Sally Shaw (Marjorie May/Renée), Brendan Sheehan (Yonkers), Thomas Silcott (Pop), Jayden Theophile (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies/Newsboy) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of the production’s final preview! The far right is a bit obstructed but worked around very well. Very minor head obstruction on the bottom that blocks very little. Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBVz94 | ASKING $20 USD OFFERED AS A $30 BUNDLE WITH NOVEMBER 21, 2024 NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

HAMILTON January 5, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (11.06GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Miguel Cervantes (Alexander Hamilton), Alysha Deslorieux (Eliza Hamilton), Jared Dixon (Aaron Burr), Jennie Harney-Fleming (Angelica Schuyler), Tamar Greene (George Washington), Kyle Scatliffe (Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson), Ebrin R. Stanley (Hercules Mulligan/James Madison), Thayne Jasperson (u/s John Laurens/Philip Hamilton), Yana Perrault (Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds), Jarrod Spector (King George III), Alexander Ferguson (James Reynolds/Philip Schuyler/Doctor), Roddy Kennedy (s/w Samuel Seabury), Adam Ali-Perez (s/w Charles Lee), Robert Walters (s/w George Eacker) Notes: Great 4K capture of Thayne as Laurens! Filmed between heads so there is obstruction on the far sides (mostly on the right) that is worked around well. Semi-frequent brief blackouts from the people in front leaning towards each other. Beginning of Act Two is VERY messy, doesn’t really get settled until Take A Break. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjB9o9v | ASKING $18 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

[godlessondheimite]

the psychology behind the caroline the cow number in gypsy…it’s rose’s ultimate wish fulfillment of one of her daughters hitting it big as a star, but an even bigger subliminal dream of june about to walk out but choosing to come back when she sees how heartbroken caroline would be without her. returning to rose—or choosing not to leave—is a choice that june did not make, nor rose’s mother nor husbands nor eventually herbie, but the choice to give up show business for a loved one is a choice that rose could not make either

[djkerr]

Audra McDonald and cast celebrate the opening night curtain call for the new revival of the musical "Gypsy" on Broadway. ✨

Christine Baranski spotted arriving to the theater and at the after party.

The Majestic Theatre, NYC | December 19, 2024

🎥 @gypsybway | @joejsimon via IG stories

[angeliccss]

I tried to give more options this time :)

[broadwaydivastournament]

Here she is boys, here she is world. Here's Rose from Gypsy (8)

Tyne Daly (Broadway revival, 1989 - 42) Patti LuPone (Broadway revival, 2008 - 59) Tovah Feldshuh (Bristol, 2011 - 63) Bernadette Peters (Broadway revival, 2003 - 63) Carolee Carmello (Sacramento, 2018 - 56) Julia Murney (Cape Playhouse, 2017 - 48) (no audio) Beth Leavel (The Muny, 2018 - 63) Betty Buckley (Paper Mill Playhouse - 45)

The most coveted role for (non-soprano) women in musical theatre canon. Mama Rose, the ultimate stage mother, was originated by Ethel Merman in 1959. With Ethel's foghorn belt still audible in the distance even today, Rose has some of the most iconic solo numbers to ever grace musical theatre canon. Everyone has their personal favorite Rose, and everyone will fight to the death for her.

Other Rose's include: Angela Lansbury (Broadway, 1979), Imelda Staunton (West End, 2015), Bette Midler (Film, 1993), and Rosalind Russel (1962).

[emmynominees]

bette midler as mama rose in gypsy

primetime emmy award nominee for outstanding lead actress in a limited series or movie

[dailyd0ses]

A Rose Without Thorns

Mama Rose from Gypsy on Broadway x Female Reader

The city never truly slept, but tonight, it felt emptier than usual. The neon glow of a burlesque marquee flickered in the distance, its bright letters spelling out a name that was once just a dream. Gypsy Rose Lee.

The name echoed in Rose’s head like a final curtain call she wasn’t ready to take. She sat on a bench in the biting cold, hands folded tightly in her lap, staring out into nothing. Her fur coat, the one she had worn proudly through countless auditions and backstage battles, suddenly felt heavier than it ever had before.

Louise was gone.

Not gone in the sense that she’d disappeared, but gone from her. Living her own life now, standing on her own. The moment should have been triumphant—Rose had spent years pushing her daughter toward stardom—but instead, it left a hollow ache inside her chest, one she wasn’t prepared for.

She had no more dreams left to chase. No more curtains to pull. No more daughters to push.

And for the first time in decades, she was alone.

That was how you found her.

You had been passing through the quiet streets when you saw her, hunched over on a park bench, her head bowed as if in prayer. But she wasn’t praying. She was crying—silent, restrained tears that barely made it past her lashes before she wiped them away with sharp, hurried movements.

Something about the sight of her struck you. Maybe it was the way her shoulders sagged, a stark contrast to the indomitable woman you had seen on stage before. You weren’t a stranger to her reputation; Rose Hovick was a name whispered with awe and sometimes fear in show business. A force of nature, people said. Unstoppable. Relentless.

But right now, she just looked... tired.

You hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer. "Are you alright, ma’am?"

Her head jerked up, eyes narrowing in immediate defense, but there was no real fight left in them. Only exhaustion. Her gaze flickered over you—calculating, assessing—before something in her softened just slightly.

"Do I look alright to you?" she replied, voice hoarse from holding back emotion.

You smiled gently, undeterred by her sharpness. "Not particularly."

She scoffed, a sound that was half a laugh and half a sigh. "Well, aren’t you observant."

There was a beat of silence before you took a seat beside her, leaving enough space so she wouldn’t feel crowded. She didn’t tell you to leave, which you took as a good sign.

"Rough night?" you asked.

Rose let out a short, humorless chuckle. "Try a rough life."

You nodded, as if you understood. Maybe you did, in your own way.

"You’re Rose, aren’t you?" you asked after a moment.

She turned her head toward you sharply, surprised. "And how would you know that?"

"I’ve seen you before," you admitted. "Watched your girls perform. But mostly, I watched you. You have a way of stealing a scene, even when you’re not trying to."

She huffed, but there was something close to amusement in her expression now. "Yeah? Well, that’s the damn problem, isn’t it? Stealing the scene don’t mean much when the show’s over."

Another silence fell between you. She wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring down at her gloved hands. They were fidgeting, like she needed something to do but couldn’t figure out what.

"You have somewhere to go?" you asked finally.

She hesitated.

Then, so quietly you almost missed it, she said, "Not anymore."

It wasn’t just about a place. It was about them. June had run off years ago. Herby—sweet, patient Herby—had finally had enough and left her. And now Louise...

She had always been the one to leave, never the one left behind.

But here she was.

You made a decision then. "Come with me."

Her head snapped toward you again, brows raised. "Excuse me?"

"I have an apartment not far from here," you explained. "It’s warm, and I make a decent cup of coffee."

She stared at you like you had just offered her the moon. "You’re inviting a perfect stranger into your home?"

You shrugged. "You’re not a stranger, not really. And besides, I don’t like seeing people like this. You look like you could use a place to rest."

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but the words never came. Pride warred with exhaustion on her face, but exhaustion won.

Finally, she exhaled sharply and muttered, "Well. Guess I’ve done crazier things."

---

Your apartment was small but comfortable. Nothing extravagant, but homey in a way that Rose hadn’t felt in years. She stood in the middle of your living room, still wrapped in her coat, as if unsure whether she belonged there.

You disappeared into the kitchen and returned with two mugs of coffee, setting one on the table beside her. She eyed it warily before finally sinking onto the couch with a sigh.

"Not exactly how I expected my night to go," she muttered before taking a sip.

"Me neither," you admitted, watching her over the rim of your cup.

There was a pause before she said, almost to herself, "Men always leave."

The words hung heavy between you.

She looked up then, meeting your gaze fully for the first time since arriving. There was something unreadable in her expression—curiosity, maybe, or something deeper.

"Women, though..." she trailed off, as if she was just now considering the thought for the first time.

You tilted your head slightly. "What about them?"

She studied you, as if searching for something in your face. Then, with the faintest hint of a smirk, she said, "They’re different."

You weren’t sure if she was talking about all women or just you.

But either way, you didn’t mind.

And neither, it seemed, did she.

---

The night stretched on in quiet contemplation. Rose sat curled into the corner of your couch, one hand wrapped around her coffee mug, the other draped lazily over her lap. She was still wearing her fur coat, as if shedding it would leave her too vulnerable.

You let her sit in her silence, knowing that whatever she was working through, it wasn’t something that could be solved with simple conversation. You weren’t a stranger to heartache, to the weight of loneliness, but something about Rose’s presence in your living room—her stillness, her uncharacteristic quiet—felt heavier than any sorrow you’d seen before.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" she asked suddenly.

You blinked at her over your coffee. "Shouldn’t I be?"

"People don’t do things out of the goodness of their hearts," she said, voice tinged with old bitterness. "Not in show business. Not in life."

You tilted your head, considering her. "I’m not asking for anything, Rose."

She let out a small, skeptical huff, but there was no fight behind it.

"And anyway," you continued, "I’ve been watching you for a long time. You’re... something else."

Her eyes snapped to yours, suddenly alert, as if you had struck something tender in her. "That so?"

You nodded. "You’re tough. Loud. Unapologetic. But right now, you look like you’re trying really hard not to fall apart."

Her grip on her coffee tightened.

For a moment, you thought she might snap at you—Rose was sharp-edged, and you knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who took well to being analyzed. But instead, she let out a low chuckle, shaking her head.

"Well, aren’t you a perceptive little thing?"

You shrugged. "I just see you, that’s all."

Another silence fell between you. Rose set her coffee down and leaned back into the couch, finally allowing herself to relax, just a little.

"I should’ve had a plan for this," she muttered. "I always had a plan."

"But not this time?"

She shook her head. "I never thought past Louise making it. That was the goal. That was always the goal. I figured once she made it, I’d... I don’t know. I thought I’d feel different."

"And do you?"

She gave a dry laugh. "I feel nothing."

You swallowed. You understood that, too well. The feeling of chasing something for so long only to reach the end and find nothing waiting for you.

"Then maybe it’s time you stopped living for everyone else," you said gently.

She looked at you then, really looked at you. Her gaze lingered, eyes dark and searching, as if she were trying to read something in your face that she hadn’t considered before.

There was a shift between you, an unspoken weight to the air.

It was Rose who looked away first.

"Men always left me, you know," she murmured. "Three husbands. Then Herby. Even my own damn father."

"I’m not a man," you said softly.

She smirked at that, a quiet, almost amused sound. "That’s what’s new about this, isn’t it?"

You raised an eyebrow.

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face. "I’ve spent my whole damn life being surrounded by men. Always needing them to get what I wanted. Always getting left behind in the end."

"And now?"

She met your eyes again, the smirk fading into something more uncertain. More vulnerable.

"I don’t know," she admitted. "But I do know I don’t wanna be alone tonight."

Your breath hitched at her words.

It wasn’t a declaration, not yet. But it was something. A thread between you, stretched and waiting to be pulled.

You set your coffee aside and stood. "Come on."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "Where are we going?"

"To bed."

She blinked, and you saw the brief flash of guarded surprise in her eyes.

You chuckled. "Not like that, Rose."

She rolled her eyes, though there was a flicker of amusement there. "Oh, I know. If you were, you’d have to buy me dinner first."

You laughed. "Noted. But really—there’s a spare bed in the other room. You need rest."

She hesitated, clearly unused to accepting kindness without strings attached. But after a moment, she sighed and stood, stretching with a groan.

"Alright, alright. Lead the way."

You guided her to the small guest room. It wasn’t much—just a neatly made bed and a dresser—but it was warm, and right now, warmth was what she needed.

She stood in the doorway, eyeing the bed with a strange expression. "Haven’t slept in a bed that wasn’t in some crummy hotel in years," she muttered.

You leaned against the doorframe. "Then maybe this is a fresh start."

Rose let out a small, tired laugh as she toed off her heels. "Kid, I’m too old for fresh starts."

You shrugged. "I don’t think so."

She looked at you again, and for the first time since you found her on that bench, you saw something lighter in her expression. Something softer.

"Goodnight, Rose."

She gave a small nod. "Yeah. Goodnight, kid."

As you turned to leave, her voice stopped you.

"And... thanks."

You smiled. "Anytime."

[shakespearenews]

A month of Shakespeare News! 1/4:

@artukdotorg has magnificent Richard IIIs including Antony Sher's self-portrait and a six-year-old who became a prosthetic limb manufacturer. Add in some French witches and Damian Lewis winning an acting prize for his Bottom and we're in business.

[musicalpilftournament]

General MacNamara vs Mama Rose

Propaganda (click names for full propaganda pages and other actors)

General MacNamara: He has the most glorious hair ever in Black Friday. Also he makes puns and his first ever spoken line is to call the main character of the musical as "son." He's also got a husband yet to appear in canon.

Mama Rose: They think they’re fuckable. Also you can’t have a milf poll without her.

[greatelementalbeasts]

Mama Rose holding both of her babies in her arms expressing her feelings to the crystal gems and even greg how she feels to experiencing being with them in that state they are in how she misses out their childhood, but gets a chance to be there with them.