#this is probably quite ooc

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Want emotional support?

Anyways here's some space themed stuff if you're a dark mode user.

　.　　　　　　. 　 　　.　　　　　　.　　.　　　　  　　　　　　   　　　　.　　.　　　　　　　.　　. 　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　   .　　　　　　.　　☄　　 . •　　　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　      .  　　　　　　　　.　　　　　. • 　　　　　　　　.　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　　.　　　 .　 　　🪐　　 　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　.　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　. 　 　　•　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　　.　　　 　 　　　　🌘 　　　.　　　　　　　　　.　　   　 .　　　.　　　　.　　　　　　.　　　ﾟ　  　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　　　,　　　　　　　.　　　　　　    　　　　 　　　　　.　 　　 　✦　　　　　✦ .　　　•　　　　　　　 ✦ 　　　　   　• 　　　˚　　　　　　　　.　　　　　　　　　　　　   　　　　　　.　　☄　　  . •　　.　　　　　　　    .　      　　　.　　        　　.　　　　　　.　　　. 　　 　✦　　　　　✦ .　　　•　 　　　　　

-Multiverse Anon

regretfully i can not see it as i am not a dark mode user but i hope others can enjoy the view of space :D

[leifyposting]

Rosaria is not usually this transparent.

She isn’t Barbara, who wears her heart on her sleeve, or Jean, who does not count lying among her many talents. She isn’t even Kaeya, whose intricate masks and careful dissembling only hold up as long as the wind doesn’t blow too hard.

Rosaria is impassive, unreadable, barely even there. She’s spent enough years learning how to let people’s eyes slide right off her. It turns out that you can wear fishnets and claw rings and people will still let themselves ignore you if you give them the right excuse.

But she has been drinking, tonight — not quite to the edge of tipsy, but close, right on the line where the lights are warmer and the wine is sweeter and the chatter of the bar patrons tips from grating to almost melodic.

And so maybe she lets her eyes linger, just a little, on the broad back and flaming hair of tonight’s bartender. 

No one would blame her if they caught the way her gaze flits over to him and away, one stolen glance every couple of minutes. Diluc cuts a dashing figure in his bartender’s uniform: all straight lines and stark contrasts, his red hair bright against the white of his vest. He carries himself with a quiet composure born of physical power and a bank vault full of cash. Half the people in this tavern have been ogling him all evening; she’s still not sure if he’s truly oblivious or willfully blind. 

As she watches, he slides a drink over to the Traveler at the end of the bar, waving away the offer of payment. He wipes down the counter with a practiced hand before tossing the cloth over his shoulder once more. Then he turns back, and Rosaria doesn’t look away quite quick enough to stop their gazes from catching and holding. 

Diluc’s gaze burns like the embers of a campfire, low and controlled, but with the promise of destruction unleashed. For a long second, he watches her watching him. 

Then he smiles. 

It’s a different smile from the confident one he gives her in the middle of the night when they’re on a manhunt, or the rueful shouldn’t-have-let-my-guard-down grin he sports when he’s taken an injury he should have been able to dodge. 

This smile is small, meant just for her: the corner of his mouth quirks up, boyish and almost shy, and for a moment Rosaria catches a glimpse of the young man who’d brought Mondstadt to its knees. 

He’s so godsdamned pretty it makes her throat tight. Despite her better judgement, Rosaria finds herself smiling back. 

She suppresses her smile as soon as she registers it — but Kaeya has always been too perceptive for his own good. 

“Playing with fire there, Rosaria,” he murmurs once Diluc turns away. He leans an elbow on the bar counter and fixes her with an unreadable smile. 

“What do you mean?” she asks evenly, taking a swig of her wine.

Kaeya looks unimpressed by her attempt at deflection. “Falling in love with him is a bad idea.”

“I’m not in love with him,” Rosaria says. She realizes too late that this too is a confession. She ought to have asked who he meant; she’s shown her hand too early.

“Sure,” Kaeya says, serious for once. “But you’re getting there.”

“Am not.”

He shakes his head at her. “I wouldn’t get too close, if I were you. He burns everything he touches.”

Kaeya was her first real friend in Mondstadt. She knows what Diluc did — in broad strokes, if not in detail. It definitely makes her a bad friend that she likes him anyway. 

Kaeya’s lone visible eye tracks Diluc’s movement as he weaves his way through the bar, clearing tables. “The thing is, he doesn’t mean to,” he says, his voice low and almost affectionate. “He tries so hard, you know? He’d try, if you asked him to.”

“I’m not asking him shit. There’s nothing going on between us.”

“He just always ends up destroying things anyways,” he continues as if she hadn’t spoken, his fingers tracing lines of frost on the condensation of his glass, his eye still fixed on the back of Diluc’s head. “It tears him apart, but good intentions don’t restore what’s been broken.”

He looks back at her. For a moment she thinks she sees wildfire flames licking at the deep blue of his visible eye, before they resolve into the gentle glow of the lamps that light the Angel’s Share. “I know you’re not going to listen to me,” he says, and smiles mirthlessly. “You can make your own decisions, of course. But be careful, alright? I’d hate to see you hurt in the course of protecting Mondstadt.”

It’s the wrong thing to say. Rosaria knows it as soon as it leaves his lips. 

Because no matter how bad Diluc is, Rosaria is worse. Kaeya has forgotten that frost burns too. 

Diluc is a fine, upstanding citizen, the uncrowned king of Mondstadt. Rosaria is a scrappy orphan at the mercy of the Church. Diluc has a bent for justice and a mission to take care of the weak. Rosaria only knows revenge.

Kaeya forgets — or ignores, because he is a good friend, and he cares for her in his own way — that Rosaria deserves nothing but destruction and pain. Everything she has received from Mondstadt has been at the cost of its citizens. She owes a debt she can never repay; if she takes some injury in the course of protecting this country, it will simply be what she deserves. 

She lays a hand on Kaeya’s arm and watches him jolt. “Getting burned is part of the job.”

“Of protecting Mondstadt?” He sounds skeptical. “The nation has never asked that of you.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Someone’s gotta do it. Don’t act like you haven’t sacrificed for Mondstadt too.”

“Oh, I won’t pretend I haven’t,” he says lightly. “But I’m a hedonist, you know — I’ll always pick pleasure over pain.”

She laughs, opting not to call him on this obvious lie. “I guess that makes me a masochist, because I don’t care if I get hurt.” 

“I care,” he mutters, then sighs. “Look, you’re a grown-up. If you want to flirt with the sun, I won’t stop you. I just reserve the right to say ‘I told you so’ when your wax wings go up in smoke.”

“I’ll be careful,” Rosaria promises. 

(Across the tavern, Diluc laughs at something Venti says, low and rolling and resonant. The eyes of half of Mondstadt follow the sound, and Rosaria has never been one to go with the crowd, but in this and this only—)

Kaeya rolls his eyes, shrugging her hand off his arm. “No, you won’t.”

“No,” she agrees, and grins. “I won’t.”

[notmoreflippingelves]

Me walking up to the HBO Velma’s writer’s room:

[jfouler]

jamie is the most broken-up-with man alive.... he has like four ex girlfriends and one sort-of-ex-boyfriend and one ex wife and they all were the ones to decide to end the relationship. because no one can handle this wet dog KNDSFMDF

[everythingisawayoflife]

the writer in me…she’s cooking…i think this is the longest thing ive written yet. i shall leave a sample below so i’m satisfied with sharing at least a little bit before i post the full thing (this to me takes place in the new batman adventures universe but feel free to imagine otherwise):

Dick is worried. Tim isn’t the chattiest kid but he can certainly hold a conversation. Dick’s tried everything: school, movies, TV, even casework. All he’s gotten are some unenthused grunts and hums. Tim may not biologically be Bruce’s kid but he sure does take after the guy. He cleaned up a bit before leaving and there’s a little bit of color back in his face but he still looks tired. Devastatingly so. Dick keeps stealing glances at his little brother in the passenger seat of the car. His arms are folded tightly against his abdomen, as if he’s protecting his stomach from something and a slight shiver courses through his body despite Tim bundling up with at least three layers, a scarf, a hat, and very thick gloves. The kid’s got to be cooking in his makeshift snowsuit, but then again…

They’re stopped at a red light. Five minutes out from the mall, three minutes out from the nearest urgent care.

Dick steals another glance towards Tim and decides to reroute to the clinic, get him checked out. Dick tuts quietly, it’s a shame he’s starting to come down with something right before Christmas, right before his first Christmas with them. Dick’s been in his shoes before; falling in a pond ice skating with Barbara. She managed to be just fine whereas he spent Christmas on Bruce’s couch laid up with pneumonia. He hardly remembers that Christmas from being so damn delirious but he remembers the warmth that wasn’t from fever. It was familial. The whole time he remembers being with someone. It was hard to deduce who was with him when but he was never alone. And if Tim was about to go through what he had been through, or something similar, he’d need them. But first, Dick just wanted to check for a fever in the first place. All signs pointed to one but Dick wasn’t sure yet. Careful not to wake the sleeping boy, Dick reaches out for Tim’s forehead.

HONK!

Dick quickly retracts his hand and places it back on the wheel, pressing the gas. To the mall. Tim doesn’t jolt awake but the car horn is clearly loud enough to stir him. He blinks slowly with a grimace, like he’s in pain.

“Are we there yet?” Tim asks, pitifully quiet. Like talking louder than a whisper would kill him.

“Almost, Tim, you can go back to sleep for a bit,” Dick says, taking a left towards the mall.

Tim makes a disapproving noise. “I wasn’t sleeping.”

Hm. Denial is the path he’s choosing here.

“Are you sure? Your eyes were closed and you weren’t talking. Telltale signs of sleeping to me,” Dick says lightly, trying not to come off like he’s interrogating Tim.

Tim laughs a little. “Nope, just resting my eyes.”

“Okay, old man. You’re too young to rest your eyes. Resting your eyes is for old people. Just look at Bruce.”

“Hn.”

“Oh my gosh, B, is that you?” This gets a more hearty laugh from Tim. It’s the most awake he’s looked since this morning.

alrighty thats all im posting, im gonna show the utmost restraint until i actually finish this thing.

[c0mmander-rudboys]

What is your height? You don't seem very tall...

But you look pretty strong ;)

//I have no idea

Though yes, he is a pretty strong guy.

[byanyan]

just a head's up: while I hesitate to call hiatus of any kind bc I want to give myself the freedom to write when I have the energy/focus/etc., I will just note that I'm gonna be even slower than usual around here for... idk, probably for a bit. I'm in the worst state mentally that I think I've ever actually been in and it's uhhhh. it's not great lmao. writing is my main escape & distraction so I don't want to step away from it but doing anything is hard as fuck rn so I'm really not interested in pressuring myself to get shit done when it comes to the hobby I'm supposed to be having fun with. I'll be slow, I'll be selective, and it's possible I'll be dropping a lot of drafts?? maybe?? OR at least like. temporarily removing a bunch from my drafts (to be added back later) just so the number is less big & overwhelming lmao.

thank u guys for ur patience w me & for writing w my glittery lil creature, I appreciate u all sm 💜

[mushroompollution]

The letter had called Gerald to the garden behind the girls' dormitory, a wide patch of neat lawn between the building and a grove of tall trees. Marcel waits near those trees, pocketing the phone he'd been looking at as the larger student approaches him.

"You--" Gerald growls as he marches forward. "Who do you think you are? Do you have idea who I am? Who my family is?"

Though he's shaking, Marcel does his best to steel his gaze and stare down his bully. "Why are you ss-so sure I'm the one harrassing you, Gerald?" he asks, as firmly as he can, doing his best to draw inspiration from the man he idolized.

"You know why!!" Gerald snaps.

"No. I don't. I know the letter you threw at Leo was signed with an M.... But why, um. Why would I have beef with you--"

"Oh shut up, you lying little freak!" Gerald pulls back his arm, his eyes flashing with malice. He throws the punch at those big brown eyes, and Marcel does his best not to flinch.

Gerald isn't a slight man, but he lacks any training or grace. The time it takes him to wind up his attack gives Elliot Nightray more than enough time to step out from behind the thick tree, catching his fist and using the bully's size and momentum to twist his arm in one skillful move. Marcel lets out an audible sigh of relief.

"Nobody hits my boyfriend," Elliot grows, and gives the other man's arm a little tug, making him yelp. "Or my valet."

"now come on, Gerald," Leo hums as he approaches from the shadow of the dormitory building. "why don't you tell us why you're so sure Marcel has it out for you in the first place?"

Gerald doesn't answer, gritting his teeth and glaring at the two smaller students confronting him now.

"maybe you thought he was getting revenge for all those times you paid others to attack him last year? is that it?" Leo raises a hand to his chin, as if pondering something.

Gerald gives a short, forced laugh. "Why the hell would I do that?" he snarls.

"So you could swoop in and save the day," Marcel stares up at his restrained bully. "And look like a hero in front of all the girls."

"Bullies like you make me sick," Elliot growls and gives his arm another tug. "Picking on somebody weaker than you for the sake of your own pride and lust?! You're no hero, you're a spineless, sniveling coward!! Cockroaches would look down on you!"

"really, if Marcel did have it out for you, it wouldn't be unwarranted. trying to poison you was a little far, though," Leo shakes his head in disapproval.

"If he didn't do it, then how do you know about that?!"

"the letter you threw at me smelled a lot like peanut oil. well, now it mostly smells like swamp."

"It wasn't me, though," Marcel insists. "I, um. I had an idea. That you were behind those incidents, with the other bullies. But I thought it was crazy, until um. Leo agreed with me..."

Gerald's anger seems to slowly begin to quell as he takes all this in. Elliot eases his grip on the man's arm in response, though he doesn't quite let go yet.

"Okay, fine. Then who, pray tell, is fucking with me then? No one else knows about that!!"

"That's not true. Last year, I told someone else I thought you were behind those attacks..." Marcel turns his attention from Gerald toward the dormitory, up to a second floor terrace where a group of girls all pressed against the balcony, watching the scene below. One of those girls seems to jump as her gaze meets the man's big brown eyes.

"hi Josephine!" Leo calls with a little wave.

The girl who had seemed startled, Josephine Hanover, goes red. The other girls all seem shocked as they turn to the leader of their little club.

"Say it's not so!" "Why, Josephine?" "Is it true?" they chatter.

"You're lying!!" Josephine yells, leaning over the balcony as she points an accusatory finger at Leo. "Why would I harrass that guy?!"

"because Marcel got too close to your precious Blue Rose, right?" Leo asks. Elliot gags at that name. Josephine's pointing arm goes limp. "first, you were just worried he'd tell about you girls. but then he became a real threat when they went out."

"You-- You--" Josephine stutters. "You don't have any proof!!"

"Huh, funny. That isn't usually what innocent people say," Elliot calls up to the girls on the terrace. "Is it, Vessalius?"

"Is all of that true, Miss Josephine...?" comes the timid voice of another girl from behind the group huddled at the balcony. The Blue Rose club all turn around to face a concerned Ada Vessalius.

"N-no," Josephine gasps. "They're lying!"

"Elliot never lies," Marcel insists.

Ada shakes her head. "As a member of the disciplinary committee, I really can't ignore any of this," she says sadly. "I'm going to have to tell the administrators about this. Gerald, you too... That isn't acceptable behavor for an RA...."

"M-miss Vessalius, wait--" Gerald starts to argue, but he's cut off as Elliot lets go of his arm and gives him enough of a shove to make him turn around. He grabs the taller man by the collar, pulling him down to eye-level.

"Gerald," Elliot says sternly. "I'm not going to hit you." The prefect sighs in relief, but Elliot clarifies, "NOT because I don't want to. Believe me, I really fucking want to. But because I know you're a whiny little snitch, and I've got a family name to uphold. Frankly, you're just not worth hitting."

Gerald winces. Those words hurt just as bad as any punch.

"So I'm gonna leave you to the proper authorities. This time. But if you ever, ever pick on somebody smaller than you again, you're not gonna get off so lucky." With that, he lets go of Gerald, giving him a little shove like he's something repulsive. Instead, Elliot turns and marches closer to the building to point a finger at the girls gathered on the terrace above.

"And as for YOU--!! Your whatever-it-is club! As of today, consider yourself disbanded!!"

At that proclamation, several of the girls gasp.

"W-wait," Josephine starts. "The other girls had nothing to do with my Project M. So they shouldn't be--"

“Dis. Band," Elliot cuts her off. "I'm the one you're fawning and fantasizing over, and I say it's creepy!!"

Serveral of the girls turn to each other for comfort, several others apologize loudly, over and over.

Beside his master, Leo nods. "Elliot is right. ladies, i have a final message from The Gardener for you all.

Several of the girls, including Josephine, gasp. Marcel turns his head quickly, giving Leo a wide-eyed look. "Wait. That was... You?"

Leo nods and clears his throat. "can i continue? thanks. even if this happened because one member got out of control, the existence of the Blue Rose Club caused it by inviting excessive fanaticism in the first place. for that reason, i really can’t allow the club to remain, either.”

No one could argue. Everyone looked down, hanging their heads.

“however, each of you is free to consider Elliot something special, to think of him and about him. even Elliot can’t intrude on your individual hearts and force you to change your thoughts."

"Well, I, uh..." Elliot starts to object, but Leo does have a point. In the end, he cuts himself off with a loud sigh. "Fine."

"so that's it, unless miss Ada needs anything from you, i think everyone is dismissed. oh. everyone but Josephine and Gerald, i assume."

Ada nods. "If none of you knew anything about this, then you're free to go... Elliot, Leo, Marcel, do you mind coming to give your own statements about the situation?" she asks.

Elliot groans loudly. "Fine. This is a pain in the ass, you know!" he proclaims to no one in particular.

-------------

Later that evening, the trio walk out of the administrative office together, leaving Josephine and Gerald to face their punishment from the school officials. "What a waste of an evening, but at least that's all over now," Elliot complains as he stretches his arms, one landing around Marcel's shoulders. "Should we order some pizza to celebrate?"

"pizza party!" Leo chirps, but Marcel seems to flinch. Elliot blinks, giving his boyfriend a confused look.

"It doesn't have to be pizza...."

"That um. That's not it," Marcel says, voice quiet. His face goes bright red as he looks away.

"Marcy...?"

"Um. Elliot, can I actually... Talk to you? Alone...?" Marcel glances over at Leo.

All is quiet for a moment, before the valet nods. "i have a book to get back to, anyway. i'll go order that pizza," he says as he walks off in the direction of their dormitory.

Marcel slips out of Elliot's half-embrace and sucks in a deep breath as he forces himself to look at the other man. "I um. I want to say that I really... really appreciate you helping me settle this. You inspire me to be stronger, to face my fears and my problems, and to do so with honor."

"Yeah, you're welcome--" Elliot starts, but Marcel shakes his head.

"Thank you... But.... I um. I've been thinking. About the conversation we had at the park...."

The confusion on Elliot's face quickly turns to a frown. His stomach sinks.

Oh no.

"I want to be an honest person, too. Like you."

No no no no no.

"I've really appreciated getting the opportunity to know you better, Elliot Nightray. But I didn't really enjoy the places we went on our dates. And I know you did. And you should be with someone you can enjoy them with--"

"Marcel, wait. Wait, it's not that deep. We haven't even tried doing what you want for--"

"I know. But I've also come to realize that... Some of the things I thought were charming from afar, ended up being kind of... Too much, up close."

"Excuse me--?!" Elliot squeaks, one eye twitching in anger. "Too much?!"

"Yeah, kind of um. Kind of like that. So... It would be nice if we could stay friends, but I think, romantically, um." Marcel looks down at his hands, fidgeting. "We should probably see other people."

Elliot's jaw drops open slightly, his face somewhere between bewilderment and rage. He stutters and stammers, trying to find the right words in his dumbstruck state.

Marcel sighs. "I'm sorry. I'm thankful for the time we spent together though, so... I'll see you around, Elliot."

[piningpercussionist]

I love lesbians thanks for providing solder 🫡

Anything for our Women* Lovers back at home, Sir (gn)!

*(and non women ♡)

(also this already included trans women but friendly reminder that if you're a terf you're not welcome here ♡ How did you get passed the transfem Scott posts? /j)

[r3dblccd]

Me before watching Chicago (2002) when I discovered WBRFTG and it became one of my favourite songs and I was listening to it without context: OH YES OH YES OH YES THEY BOTH OH YES THEY BOTH OH YES THEY BOTH REACHED FOR THE GUN THE GUN THE GUN THE GUN

Me after actually watching the movie: Wait a minute... I've been bamboozled

[russell-crowe]

anyway i just finished season 7 and while it had some interesting moments, i think it is my least favourite season of house md.

[slightlyunconventional]

ok ok but picture N/ina trying to help K/az hold back because they have to be quiet on a heist or something (maybe a good old sneezing-while-hiding type thing) and then when they’re out of the situation she releases her powers and he just ERUPTS…could you imagine…😍

i am doing more than imagining UGHHH this was literally too god not to write into a fic

(anyone who wants to disprove any of the h/eartrender science can argue with the wall. who care about canon) Also the intro to this is a bit long sorry

tease (subjecting k/az b/rekker to the classic sneezing while hiding treatment)

K/az and N/ina stuffed themselves into a wardrobe, backs pressed against the wall, panting hard. They had just narrowly escaped several armed guards who tailed them through the winding corridors of the mansion they'd broken into. A 500,000 kruge job - all they'd had to do was infiltrate Herr Frühling's (a rather obnoxious nom-de-plume) manor, and pilfer an expensive jade brooch from his personal safes. Obtaining the brooch had been plain sailing. The latter half of the heist could not be said the same for. I/nej had recorded the guards' schedules the evening prior, but the ostentatious gentleman of the mansion just so happened to refresh the rotas mere hours before their arrival. What K/az thought was the perfect window to sneak in had actually turned out to be the very minute the guards came back on duty.

Now, they were split up. Inej made her own way out, of course, Jesper, Wylan, and a reluctant Matthias chose a rather gunshot-explosion-heavy escape route, so Kaz ended up with Nina, thundering down Frühling's pristine hallways, three guards hot on their heels. Nina had managed to slow the guards for a brief period with her powers, though not for long - there wasn't a whole lot a Grisha could do while running through a house as fast as possible. This had allowed them an advantage, though, as they stormed through the nearest door into what appeared to be a guest bedroom.

The closet was surprisingly spacious, possessing enough room to allow both of them to collapse to the dusty wooden floor in exhaustion.

Nina watched Kaz set his cane down to the side of him and grimace as he bent his knees up in front of him.

"Saints, what a dick," Nina breathed, clearly referring to Frühling's ridiculousness. Much to his dismay, Kaz had had to be the distraction to keep the gentleman away from his safes, while Inej's limited lockpicking skills were put to the test obtaining the brooch. The balding man showed clear interest in what he called Kaz's "little finger tricks" - what really was just sleight of hand. Kaz had humoured him, however, entertaining the idiot with vanishing coins and cards.

"Is it bad I never want to do a magic trick again?" Kaz said.

"Don't blame you," Nina replied with a snort. "Reckon this guards have gone yet?"

Kaz listened for a moment. "Not sure. I haven't heard them pass, but they might still be knocked out."

He shifted in place, grimacing.

"Has this closet ever been cleaned? God, all I'm breathing is this fucking d-duhh-!"

"Dust?" Nina finished with a smirk.

He breathed in sharply. "hahH!- hah'kkschh! huh'kxxsch! Fuck..."

Nina raised her eyebrows, quietly laughing. "I didn't think you could sneeze."

"Zip it, or I'll- hhuh.. I'll--huH'KSChhiew!" Three sneezes in and they were already rising in volume and pitch.

"Or you'll what?" Nina teased, "Sneeze at me?"

She snorted again seeing the way his glower quickly went slack, overtaken by an impending fourth sneeze.

"hUH'iSHHhiew!"

"Crap." Nina's grin dropped.

Kaz emerged from his elbow. "What?"

Three sets of footsteps entered the room. He and Nina turned to each other, eyes wide.

"Shit." Kaz said, voice barely a whisper, "Can you access them from in here?"

Nina shook her head. "We just have to hope for the best.."

The footsteps slowed down; the guards were scanning the room. Nina heard Kaz's steady breathing begin to snag. Oh, Saints, not now she thought.

"hihH-!"

Nina nudged him urgently with her elbow. All he could do was look back helplessly as he struggled against the need to sneeze.

Then, she had a thought. Sure, she couldn't access the guards' pulses from inside the closet, but maybe she could access Kaz. She'd messed with people's breathing before, drawn air from their lungs to leave them gasping and coughing, so how hard could it be to simply, stop someone sneezing? She thought it was worth a try.

Nina raised her hands and drew them together, feeling the thrum of Kaz's pulse and the rise of each desperate breath. She took his breath, and held it. Not so much that he couldn't breathe, but enough to suppress any oncoming outbursts.

Kaz turned to her in horror despite his lax features. Nina's efforts seemed to be working, because, despite the irritated twitch of his nose, he wasn't sneezing any more. He did though, seem to be stuck in a permanent 'about-to-sneeze' face, which Nina thought was positively adorable. She would definitely be telling Inej all about this.

The footsteps drew closer. Nina's heart pounded. One of the guards was standing right outside the closet door. Nina's grip on Kaz's breathing tightened, and she held her own breath, body tense. Kaz was totally still, eyes barely open, brows drawn together, mouth hanging halfway open. Nina thought she'd never seen anyone need to sneeze that badly before.

"They're not here. Move!" commanded a thick Zemeni accent. The footsteps left the room, fading away in tandem down the corridor.

Nina sighed, never more relieved in her life. A part of her wanted to keep her hands together, hold Kaz's breath until his dignity was in tatters, but she very much valued her skull. She let go, separating her hands.

A series of staggered gasps escaped him as his brows drew closer. Kaz ducked into his elbow, burying his face deep in the sleeve of his coat.

"HahH-hUH-HH'KKSCHHhiew! 'ISHHhuh! huH'SSHHhiew!"

"Is this a new world record? 'Ketterdam local sneezes a trillion times in five minutes?" Nina laughed.

"huh'kKSHhew! Ugh. Shut up."

Nina kicked the closet door open from her seated position and hauled herself up into the glamourous guest bedroom. She groaned.

"Oh, my legs."

Kaz didn't stand up. Instead, he sneezed, a messy triple barely covered by the hand he lifted halfway to his face.

"hih'sSCHHhiew! kxXSCHuh! -huhh... huh'KSHHuhh!"

Nina tried not to laugh again as she offered him an arm to stand up. He ignored it, pushing himself up out of the closet. He was rubbing his nose with his free hand, leather gloves clearly doing nothing to help.

"Fancy that - the Bastard of the Barrel and he's got a dust allergy! Hilarious." giggled Nina.

Kaz strode straight past her, out of the bedroom and down the hallway.

[ionozoned]

( cant wait for my Real ortega card to come in the mail so my collection of iono and her siblings can be real even though ortega will be the only official card of them all. )

[iwozlegit]

|| 🍍• I know…I just know, if I log into The Sims 4 for my annual hyperfixation of “let’s rediscover The Sims™️ again” week…that white-haired sexy horny elf vampire is gonna be in every fucking family in the gallery.

Neil Newbon NOTICE ME <3

[habitual-creatures]

I can't even understand you. Was that a insult, a growl? It was pathetic

-Mystery guest {?}

P̸-̴ ̸P̷l̷e̵a̷s̷e̵-̵ ̵s̵t̸o̸p̶ ̷i̶t̵-̵ ̴i̸t̶-̴ ̸i̸t̴ ̷h̷u̶r̴t̴s̴.̶.̶.̴

Q̸̠̞͋̋͐U̵̙̖̣̾I̴͔͛͒T̷̥͂ ̴͍̮̐͘Y̶̟̣͒Ǫ̷̐͂́��͜U̴̱̦͍͂R̸̤̾̏́ ̸͚̽Ẃ̸̳̣Ḩ̸̻̘̒̋̿I̵̝͐͝N̴͍͇̖̓I̴̛̙͛̑Ņ̶̧̩̂G̶͔͐.̸̛̳̲͉̋̐.̶̭̳͖̆.̶̺͎̏ͅ ̴̜͉̲̃

B̴̨͎̏A̵̭͎͒C̸̗̚K̷̗̈́́ ̷̘͖́ͅÖ̸͖̺͔́͂F̵͚̗̍̅̑F̴̟̄̉̀.̵͚̰̅̉͗.̴̖͗̕͝.̸̝͋̉

[nachtsoklein]

brain got rotating n look i love love love the ships ive got here so far really & truly but i cannot lie. in my heart i need kurt to smooch a guy. or be smooched by one. man's so out of his depth w other men it's kinda funny but also kinda cute & it would do him some good to actually get a bit Into his own head now n then.