Only A Tiny Bit Disappointed That The 2nd Season Didn't Include How Uhh You Know

Something about Kaz hinging his entire plan in Crooked Kingdom on the fact that no one would bother checking on a boy they assumed was dead during the plague is just so...

Like, he remembers lying in that alley with Jordie and watching people walk past and then being rolled onto a pile of corpses by bodymen and staring up at them thinking Wait. I'm still alive. and getting dumped on the Reaper's Barge anyway because no one in this city cares.

"But won't the medic check to see if he's really dead?" No. He won't.

nina touching kaz when he starts having a flashback, trying to do her calming heartrender thing, but the power of his ptsd either cancels it out or just makes it impossible because she needs physical contact for it to work and that's obviously a no-go

kaz and inej's individual relationships with touch are honestly so compelling. inej hates the lack of control but when she sees it coming she'll let jesper and nina hug her because they're safe and she trusts them, and she wants to try with kaz despite everything, and she'll sit on the bathroom counter and let him stand between her legs to patch her up knowing it's difficult for both of them because maybe opening up about her own struggles will help him realise he's not all alone in the world

and kaz does try for her and he'll bodily throw himself at jesper to save his life and hold onto him when he gets knocked out in a very dangerous place in the process because like hell is he getting himself another dead brother, but at the end of the day it's still all about the trauma and the autonomy and the stolen innocence and the limitations and the boundaries and the trust placed in their chosen people not to cross them and-

Why is it always “ILY” and never:

SL.AIHCHBTSAGDOIENHWH.ITH

my standards are too high for fictional men

i'm really going to miss you

Happy Neil banging out the tunes day

when i’m going about my day but then classical music starts playing and suddenly i am nothing in my soul if not obsessive

Kaz Brekker: A Character Study

Eyes bright, hair wild, Lips curved in a little smile. Scraped knuckles, bruised knees, Tousled gently by the country breeze. "Jordie, look, I made a friend!" Did all good things have to end?

Eyes wide, hair bristling, Lips parted in a whispered "No." Trembling fingers, racing heart, Blood like blossoms on a sunlit floor. "Jordie, quick, I think he's hurt!" Could things ever get any worse?

Eyes hopeful, hair combed neatly, Lips spread in a tremulous smile. Mittens folded over steaming chocolate, Gazing at the promise of a new sunrise. "Jordie, I think we might make it." Who knew the best way to be happy was to fake it?

Eyes waxy, hair limp, Lips closed over chattering teeth. Aching ribs, aching heart— It had never been so hard to breathe. "Jordie, please, please, wake up." They'd come too far to give up.

Eyes unseeing, hair unseen, Lips blue, dying, dying. In a pile of festering bodies, The only one who was still alive. "Jordie, wake up, please, I'm sorry." It was the only way to survive.

Eyes dull, hair pushed back, Lips pressed into a flat line. They would pay for what they did, Languish in suffering of his design. "Jordie, I promise I'll avenge you." Why wasn't he sure if that was true?

Eyes wild, hair on end, Lips trembling over trembling breaths. Crouched against a locked bathroom door, Drowning till he'd died a thousand deaths. "Jordie, please, go away." He could feel the bodies, smell the decay.

Eyes hard, hair neat, Lips in a mocking smirk. Death was dealt out far too easily, Condemningly common in his line of work. "Jordie, now I'm a monster too— What, now, would I think of you?"

Eyes caught, hair tousled, Lips frozen mid-sentence. Gazing at her, silhouetted by the sun, He could almost believe in magic again. "Jordie, I'm scared my walls are falling down." For once, he was defenseless, and he wasn't going to drown.

Eyes shy, hair straight, Lips forming words he didn't want to take back. Broken boy and broken girl— His defenses were about to crack. "Jordie, not all good things have to die." He wondered if he should straighten his tie.

Imagine Ketterdam centuries in the future, where all six crows have become saints, and their shenanigans have too many references sin history books to be written off as fairytales.

Kaz Brekker, the Saint of thieves who takes pity on the lost souls and evokes power into the hearts of crooks.

Inej Ghafa the Saint of the abused, holding a protective hand over those who share her story and causing slavers great misfortune.

Jesper Fahey, the Saint of treasure whose name those whisper at gambling tables for good luck and is said to guard all zowa.

Wylan Hendriks, a Saint of runaways who watches over the shaken souls and bruised children who slip out of their bedroom windows to start new lives.

Nina Zenik, the Saint of lovers who couples leave offerings to in hopes that their love will be eternal, no matter what.

Matthias Helvar, the Saint of soldiers who younglings going to war pray to for mercy, and known to protect Grisha when called upon.

incorrect sab subtitles part (?/?)

not to be dramatic but we desperately need a punk movement to come in and wash away this Instagram model airbrushed picture perfect trend. it’s so damaging……teens, young adults, kids, the Grown….all of us need to just. we need to be sweaty again. we deserve it smeared eyeliner…..idk just. it’s okay if ur hair is greasy please just relax & then get mad about stuff that’s important to you.