#hcltzed

[havilland-blog1]

     It’s a picnic blanket thrown over the hard concrete, the meagre excuse for pillows she could find in the firehouse small decoration and comfort. A bottle of wine. A punnet of strawberries. A pint of chocolate chip cookie dough icecream. Laid back beside her sister, looking up at the stars that twinkle beyond the Manhattan lights below, Jill nudges her younger Holtzmann’s shoulder to get her attention and signs:   ‘ Do you think stars have feelings? ’

@hcltzed called !!!

[gothamsmadking-blog]

@hcltzed 

      She’s very clearly DEAF. Which does NOTHING for explaining why she’s here.

           “Yes? You are?” 

[hcltzs-blog]

"Um ----- it is supposed to be that color?"

           ❛  Is it— of course it’s SUPPOSED to be that colour.  ❜

      Nope, it’s supposed to be more of a KEY-LIME GREEN       as opposed to a CRAP-YA-PANTS BROWN. Perhaps       she’d mixed up a few chemicals here and there but hey;       NOBODY’S PERFECT ! With deadpanned expression and       complete focus on the vial bubbling sinisterly before herself       and her sibling, Jillian took a step or two back from the table,       pulling Leah back with her.

           ❛  Let’s… go get some lunch. Let this sort itself out—                 completely going to plan. Definitely planned this.  ❜

[little-mcnster-hxrley-blog]

"How'd you get this?"

Send me “How’d you get this?” For my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars and asking how they got it.

“I, um… “ Harley tried to find the words in her suddenly blank mind, watching the other woman trace her finger along a scar on her arm. “A little… Incident with my puddin’…”

[protoniic-blog]

“You can’t get too much winter in the winter.”

tacky high school poetry / robert frost quotes  → forever and always accepting. 

                 But there must be a point where winter ends, and the guilt of receding into                                  oneself and one’s sweater and one’s cool need to detest in confidence reaches                 a point of diminishing return.                 Erin believes that this point is unbecoming on her: relinquishing thick sweaters                 and exhuming herself from the nine-foot hole in the world she’s carved -- could                 every day be winter?                            “I don’t know -- I’m a sucker for cold.” It’s clear on her lips, but barely above                      audible  frequency. Erin does not need to be heard to be understood. And though                   her hands are often restless, and she is learning to build sentiments from them, she                 is far more at home with the quasi-silence of a voice often at odds with the din.

[jesterbleach]

✮ ━ top three favorite muses that you’ve played

╳ ┊ ｍｕｎ ｒｅｌａｔｅｄ ｑｕｅｓｔｉｏｎｓ （ ｓｔａｔｕｓ － ａｃｃｅｐｔｉｎｇ ） @hcltzed

      mun speaks !       █ ▌ hmmmm, not including harley that’d have to be.... 

            lydia martin 

           tauriel

            natasha romanov

[turnclownforwhat-blog]

❖ @hcltzed said:“people lie all the time.”

❝Some more than OTHERS.❞

[concernedaboutcats-blog]

@hcltzed liked for a starter!

Jennifer’s about to ask what the other woman is doing in Dr. Holtzmann’s private workspace, when she sees that she has an unofficial visitor's pass distributed by Holtzmann herself that reads: Leah Holtzmann.        And her heart just about falls through the floor at the sight of it.                   “Oh God. There’s more of you?”