we are running so fast

[kismcts]

"I'm pregnant" - Claude to Leith

Suddenly the cliche of the world stopping all at once didn’t seem like a cliche at all -- Leith could swear that he was frozen in his spot and so was Claude.

It wasn’t that he was unhappy, not at all. He couldn’t quite pin down the emotion to begin with, overwhelmed with a swarm of nameless, intense feelings. But they all felt warm in his chest, like yet another piece falling right into the place where it belonged.

The first piece had been Claude. Now Leith could see that it had always been Claude. She was the one worth waiting for.

She was a princess, of course, which presented a whole slew of obstacles for them. But those could be addressed later. Leith wouldn’t let anything taint the perfection of the moment, the surreal nature of it.

His expression gradually lifted from stunned to elated, and when the progression began, he couldn’t help the way his grin became infectious. It pulled at his cheeks and sent a ripple of unbelievable glee through his body.

“You...you’re sure?” he asked, his hands reaching for her as he stepped forward. “You’re with child? My child? We’re going to be parents?” Leith asked one after the other, as if he needed clarification that he wasn’t imagining all this. How had he managed to be so lucky and blessed with not just one gift, but now a second person to love and complete his life?

At a loss for words, Leith gently lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Claude, showering her with kisses on her cheeks, then one to her forehead, and lastly a lingering one on her lips.

“You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible. You are...everything. You’re my whole world, and now we’ll have a child of our own. I can’t even believe it,” he rambled, shaking his head.

Leith buried his face into Claude’s hair, reveling in the moment. There was nothing he wanted more than to make the most of all their opportunities, and all the happiness that lay before them.

[kismcts]

full dislosure ~

i’ve had tricky muses lately and i’m sorta ticked at them but of course, it’s one of those things i just have to wait out. i want all my replies to be well thought out and given a lot of attention, so if i haven’t replied to a thread in a while, i can promise i’m not ignoring it!

if i’m replying to certain threads but not the one i’m working on with you, i’m not ignoring it/wanting to drop our partnership. it’s just means that whatever character i’m writing from, that’s one that’s luckily cooperating right now. but i still have everything drafted for when i get my muse back with other characters.

thank you guys for your patience like truly you’re all lovely writers and i’m lucky to be working with you :’)

[kismcts]

heartofwires:

Never would Katie have guessed that a phone call from home would end in such a drastic turn. Usually they would involve a few sighs, Maya is doing this, her dad had been doing this etc. Instead, she had found herself on the first flight home, and had put everything she had into bringing her sister out of the shell she had been building for what seemed like too long. Even when things seemed to have started looking better, it was just the calm before the storm. Katie hadn’t seen it coming, but maybe she had, unable to pull her sister from the void she had once faced, but never to the extent that Maya traveled.

Nights had been spent awake, staring at a blank ceiling, unable to lay in her own bed and opting to lay in Maya’s. A habit she had to quit, the blankets losing Maya’s scent quickly with the smell of her own perfume taking over. But it still seemed so unreal.

Not only that, but the sobs of her mother and the almost silent ones of her father haunted the hallways, filling her ears with hymns she could live without though she couldn’t bring an end to them. They all needed a way to mourn.

It was that that drew her out of her home, that and the need to pull herself from her own bout of depression that was kicking in. It was strange being back home, especially for such a dark reason, but there was no going back anytime soon; she couldn’t leave her family in the peril they were in alone.

The girl had found her way to The Dot, the familiar window bringing a small bit of light into her, even if it was only momentarily. Even the small noise that alerted the staff there was someone entering, one she had found so cute years ago, couldn’t bring a smile to her. Instead, eyes complete with dark circles studied the diner.

Finding a face she knew thanks to the small shy wave he gave, she cracked a partial smile, just the corners lifting as she headed over towards him. Her sweater was too large, hands in her pockets having to pull it up just to hold it close, but it gave her something to do; the last week seeming to bring out the most anxiety she had felt in ages.

Two fingers held onto the sleeve of her sweater, the others brushing her much lighter hair back. Zig Novak had grown in the years she had known him, she didn’t know much about him, though Maya had given her a fair share of gossip. “Hey…” She spoke softly, almost as if she had forgotten how to use her voice within a matter of days. That or crying was starting to take its effect, even if she had stopped crying a day or so ago. An almost empty feeling washing over her now, still with it’s fair share of sadness sewn right in. There weren’t many people in the restaurant, however a few had taken to a few whispers, a few glances though mostly she was ignored.

“Mind if I sit with you?” It was better than being alone, what she had been since the hospital it felt like.

Zig offered Katie a small smile when she spoke, hearing the obvious pain in her voice. He couldn’t begin to imagine what her last few days had been like. He was surprised to see her going about town but also knew that it was probably the best thing for any one of them to do in the midst of their grief. Holing up left a person without a distraction, without the potential for some fleeting relief.

There was no way of knowing if Katie wanted to be left alone. If so, Zig knew better than to press the issue, instead giving a simple reply and letting the girl have as much space as she needed. Everyone handled loss differently -- no right or wrong way to cope. He wouldn’t begrudge her whatever it was she needed. But her question lifted his spirits just a little, grateful for some company. Zig nodded and sat a little more forward in his chair, his fingers grazing the hot surface of his coffee cup.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he joked, trying his best to be lighthearted with her. “Somehow being surrounded by obnoxious conversations and the commotion here is relaxing. Isn’t that weird?” Zig asked, though right now it was a slow time.

As the day wore on, inevitably more of his classmates and others from Toronto would flood in. It would be wise to leave at that point, but Zig knew he would probably stick around regardless. The place made him feel anchored, as if the memories of her within those walls could ease his grief.

It couldn’t, of course, but Zig was content to let himself believe it for now.

“I wanna ask how you’re doing, but that’s a pretty tired question after a certain point, I’m guessing,” he shrugged, conveying empathy--not pity. That was the last thing he felt in relation to Katie’s struggle. The loss of Maya in all their lives was monumental; even empathy didn’t feel like a large enough emotion.

If I don’t reply or I take ages to:

It’s drafted

My mood doesn’t fit

I’m trying to equal your perfection

I’m brain-dead

I lost the reply

I’m easily distracted by something else

All/some of the above

[kismcts]

with @heartofwires

As much of a cliche as the phrase was, the past few days had been an utter blur for Zig. The hours between hearing the news, and where he was presently bled into one another, offering no relief even during his slumber. The dreams were always about Maya; what her last moments must have been like, the way his stomach turned over and over when the doctor approached them at the hospital. All of the physical sensations were so tangible when he reflected on them. The emotions felt like they would never stop being so intense.

He had hoped that after the wake and funeral, there might be some closure to be found. Maybe it would offer him some small sense of peace; enough to sleep at night or feel more aware during the day.

But nothing changed in light of the formal events. He almost felt worse, if anything. They cemented the harsh reality of her being gone. The finality of it sickened Zig and made him wish he could numb it all out.

As painful as it was for him, he knew that the Matlin family were the ones truly suffering. It was hard to watch Mrs. Matlin weeping for her daughter, Mr. Matlin struggling to comfort her, and Katie seeming to do a mixture of both. Their unit of four was lessened to three. Having a younger brother of his own, Zig couldn’t even fathom the enormity of their loss.

And now, looking back on the last interaction he’d had with Maya, Zig felt such intense, unrelenting guilt. Logic told him that he couldn’t have changed a single thing about it--her decision was already made at that time.

But it wasn’t fair. None of this was right.

Zig found some comfort in lingering at the Dot, ordering coffee after coffee so he could stick around as long as he pleased. It was where he first spent time with Maya, first learned about her and developed a fondness for their talks. It felt like the catalyst for everything, even if she wasn’t there.

The door to the cafe swung open and Zig’s head turned to it, recognition dawning on him instantly. Katie Matlin had donned black hair when Zig began going over to their house, making it a little bizarre to see her now with such lighter hair. All the same, he recognized the girl, her features almost painfully similar to Maya’s in some ways.

He carefully waved his hand at her, hesitantly greeting her in the hopes that maybe they could keep one another company. While others understood the pain behind Maya’s death, Zig wished he could speak to someone who felt intrinsically changed by it like he did.

[kismcts]

carelessxtroubled:

His tongue ran over his lips when she moved forward a little, her words reaching him, making him a little uneasy. Why did she have to be so hopeful for him? Why did she think he could do better? It’s not like he deserved all this faith in him. “Okay..” he replied with a slow nod as his blue hues fell to the table. 

A chuckle left his lips when she said he had countless lives, making him shake his head as he spoke. “Nah..” Then shit got deep. “You’ve been invested for all of an hour.” he said coldly, thinking of the past years where he didn’t even hear from her. His jaw tightened and he thought of leaving for a moment but didn’t move from his spot.

His eyebrows furrowed a little when she spoke about her number. He opened his mouth to protest but she was already writing it down. He rubbed the napkin between his thumb and finger before looking back up at her. 

Fitz wanted to say he missed her. Another part of him wanted to take her to the bathroom and show her just how much. “Thanks..” he murmured as their food was brought to them. Thank god, a distraction.  He had been starving so from the moment his meal was in front of him, he didn’t really stop eating until it was gone. It was so much better than prison food. After he finished, he grabbed his drink to take a sip. “So. this room you were talking about?” he paused as he shifted in his seat. “You going to take me there?”

Fitz was good at making sharp comments. He was blunt and unflinchingly honest, a trait that Maeve both admired and feared. She was never sure what the man would come out with. In true Fitz fashion, his statement cut deep into her. There was never a way to set up a defense when Maeve couldn’t see the attack coming. It threatened to make her eyes sting, but she quickly blinked back the sensation.

This wasn’t how she wanted their first talk in years to go. This was her worst nightmare coming true. Had she told Owen she was going to see Fitz, he probably would have warned her against it. He would have been sensible enough to see how fruitless the attempt would be.

Maeve always thought she knew better. She was always wrong.

“Stop begrudging my need to work on my life,” she snapped, her sadness turning to aggravation the more she mulled over his words

“You always said you wanted me to be happy. Seeing you in prison, with no freedom and years to go on your sentence -- that would have made it harder. I understand your feelings and they’re valid, but mine are too,” Maeve insisted, subconsciously pushing the heels of her feet harder into the floor. She needed something to ground her and give her the bravery to keep talking with Fitz.

Nodding at his simple thank you, Maeve sighed audibly when their food arrived. It was something to diffuse the tension. It struck Maeve that Fitz hadn’t upped and left, deciding that their conversation was too infuriating to deal with. Perhaps that was just because of the living arrangement Maeve had set up for him ahead of time, but she wanted to believe that somewhere inside, Fitz genuinely wanted to speak.

Finishing off her drink, Maeve nodded and reached for her bag, ready to head out whenever he was. “It’s not too far, and I really do mean it when I say the landlord is truly nice,” she assured, beginning to walk towards the door. Maeve hoped against hope that this segue in their time together might make things more amicable for them.

Arriving at her car, Maeve settled herself inside and waited for Fitz to do the same. She pulled out of the parking lot and started down the street, only stealing a couple glances at Fitz. There was no way not to be weak for him, try as she might to push those feelings away. He got under her skin in a way that Owen never quite could.

Once they reached the apartment complex, Maeve gave Fitz a gentle, hesitant smile. “If you end up hating it, please tell me. You could just stay the one month and then look elsewhere. I don’t want you to feel beholden to the whole thing.”

[kismcts]

just letting everyone know that i have allllll my replies drafted and i’m looking at them longingly, wanting to reply, but my attention span is fairly short right now. the threads i have at present are lengthy (which i absolutely love, that’s not the issue nor will it ever be) but i’m a little scatterbrained. i have a semi-stressful week happening so i’m thinking that’s why. but yes ok just letting anyone i write with know that i haven’t forgotten/dropped any of our threads. they’re just waiting until my brain is settled. i’ll definitely be available on IM to chat and even up for doing short threads/memes in the meanwhile! just hmu if you have something in mind.

[vesvolk]

protivach:

NOTICE.

while this blog loves to ship and explore dynamics of ongoing relationships, i am also interested in exploring past relationships ; relationships that have failed ; on-and-off again relationships ; relationships that are destined to end in a nasty breakup ; relationships that end in a mutual break up ; relationships that are strained because of cheating ; ect, ect. on top of not every relationship being perfect or healthy, not every relationship lasts ! not every relationship has a happy ending! some relationships are stepping stones. and some are ‘perfect’ over all, but not perfect right now for the people who are involved.  and that’s ok!  and i am completely open, and eager, to explore those types of dynamics that challenge my character, that add another layer to my character ( and yours ) in different ways ! 

[kismcts]

ofspellbooksandswords:

“I am a princess, sister to the King of France! How dare you speak to me like that!” Claude snapped.

“Heaven forbid I do precisely what I was tasked to do, your majesty,” Leith retorted, giving a light shrug of his shoulders. “Queen Catherine calls the shots when it comes to your protection. I merely carry out those orders.”

[moretrashyrpmemes]

Drop a kitten on my muse!!

😺 - Happy and purrs 24/7, loves to plays and bounce around

😸 - Won’t stop snuggling, no concept of personal space

😹 - Little wobbly but lovey, can’t walk in a straight line and runs into everything

😻 - Loves everyone and everything, runs face and butt on anything it possibly can

😼 - Sneaky lil bastard, knocks everything off of shelves and tables

😽 - Licker, licks everything, nothing is safe, ever

🙀 - Scaredy cat, everything is scary and spooks, needs a Xanax

😿 - Whiner, always making noise and demanding attention

😾 - Giant jackass cat, no love unless treat, don’t pet

[kismcts]

zoeriv:

As Zoe listened to Zig’s response, she immediately began to build a protective wall around herself. Miles wasn’t her first choice, Zig was.

“Well,” she began rather defensively, “no one else has given me a better offer, so.” Her voice trailed off as she sat up and straddled the boy again.

While she didn’t want to admit it, and she never would, part of (most of) Zoe wanted Zig to put up a fight for her. But deep down, especially with their arrangement, she knew that he wouldn’t. Rather than showing the hurt of that though, she used her hips to release the aggression from her disappointment. If she was going to say yes to Miles, then what Zig and she had between each other was more likely than not going to stop.

“And yeah, I think I do.”

She leaned forward on her arms against Zig’s chest, her cleavage showing a hint more than it had been. They had been friends with benefits long enough for at least something to form between them, or at least that was Zoe’s opinion. If Zig wouldn’t commit, she’d make him feel it.

“We’ll probably have to stop this. Will all of your other options though, it doesn’t really matter, right?”

Was there a dig hidden within Zoe’s phrasing? A part of Zig thought so, but then again, this dynamic between them had never taken on a serious tone. It wasn’t how Zig operated, far preferring the freedom that came with casual encounters. What made him even more reluctant was the friendship that he’d formed with Zoe, beneath their antics in the bedroom. Zig was surprised to find that envisioning a life where he couldn’t speak to her, even in the most platonic of senses, made him dismayed.

If he was being honest with himself Zig knew that he wouldn’t be boyfriend material anyway. (Not that Miles Hollingsworth was, and this change in the other boy’s behavior threw Zig for a loop.) If asked about his refusal to date, Zig would answer that he simply wasn’t built with the parts that were necessary to do something committed. He would inevitably end up hurting someone’s feelings. Why bother when he already had that insight about himself?

“Someone else could, if you were patient,” he rebutted, following up a beat later to be more specific, “Someone better than Miles. Y’know, someone who probably wouldn’t break your heart within the first month of dating them.” He could easily see Miles growing bored and chasing after another girl, leaving Zoe blindsided as a result.

There was also the small part of Zig that just didn’t want to share Zoe with anyone. Her being in a relationship would spell the end of their hookups. He was honest enough to admit that he was selfish with the girl.

The shift of her hips brought a small sigh out of Zig, his hands settling on her once more. Zoe knew every single thing that made him wound up, and it was clear that she was going to utilize them all tonight.

“You sure we have to stop...?” he teased, a lazy grin making its way onto his lips. “Sneaking around can be sorta fun,” he went on, tipping in to leave gentle nips along her neck. “I don’t mind being the other guy. Not like Miles would know any better. He's not the sharpest knife in the drawer.”

Zoe’s sarcastic comment caught Zig’s attention, but he didn’t make too much of it. Some might interpret it as jealousy. For him, it was just Zoe’s nature to make sharp comments. After all, she wasn’t wrong about him sleeping with other girls.

He left a slightly harder nip on her skin, his hands tightening possessively on her hips. “Doesn’t mean I won’t miss having you all to myself. Miles is gonna be a lucky guy.”

[kismcts]

heartofwires:

Lola was still trying to grasp the whole concept of being on land, having legs. It was all new and very strange, and the inability to blurt it out. 

She was naive but she wasn’t dumb. There was no way a human would believe that she was a mermaid. Or had been one, up until a few hours before he had stumbled on her.  

Her father had educated her on them, but he was fearful. Never trusting a human, never wanting her to get closer to them then she had to, but she didn’t listen. 

Headstrong and willing to push boundaries until she wound up being saved, somewhat, by a human. 

As he removed his shirt, she stared with awe, watching as he handed it over. Trying to not appear to strange, she attempted to mimic how he worn it and found it was much bigger on her than it seemed to be on him as her arms slid through the sleeves. 

This amused her, causing the girl to giggle as she held her arms up. “Button it up…?” She asked, perking a brow, as she looked down to the shirt. 

But her dark browns were pulled back up to him as he spoke again, eyes following his hand as it gestured. “You live in those?” She motioned to the big houses in the distance. 

“Oh. Um, sixteen…” Lola gave him a proud nod, “What..about you, Hunter?” She asked, trying out his name and enjoying the way it seemed to surf off of her tongue. Everything about him was interesting, from his buttons to his name.

Lola’s motions were extremely awkward, her arms moving as if the shirt he’d give her was a foreign object. He couldn’t wrap his head around the situation still -- couldn’t wrap his head around her. As bewildered as she seemed, Hunter was convinced that his confusion nearly matched hers. This was forcing him to not only think outside of the box, but to socialize when that activity simply didn’t come naturally to him.

Luckily, Lola didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she hardly seemed to notice.

As she laughed with her arms up, Hunter couldn’t help smiling a little bit too. She was equal parts bizarre and endearing. He found that the combination was a sweet one.

“Yeah, um,” he replied, wondering why on earth she was confused about how to button a shirt. Had she hit her head? Was she dealing with some kind of memory loss?

“You just...y’know. Put the buttons in the holes along the side,” Hunter tried to explain, his hands attempting to mimic the movement in the air. “Or just pull the shirt around yourself to keep warm, don’t worry about buttoning it.” Once more he gestured, wrapping his arms around himself to show her how.

He was explaining to a random girl with bright hair how to wear a shirt. This felt like something right out of a dream.

Nodding to her question, Hunter refrained from asking if she knew what a house was. At this point, he was willing to bet that she was significantly confused about everything. He made a mental note to see if she could go to a doctor and get a checkup. There had to be something awry with her brain.

“I’m sixteen too,” he responded, grateful that if nothing else, they had their age in common. He still wasn’t sure why he’d never seen the girl around before.

But Hunter’s main concern at the moment was the nighttime chill creeping up on them. He had a place to return to even if it wasn’t one he particularly enjoyed. Apparently Lola had no concept of what a house was. He didn’t have much faith that she had a home.

“You can’t just stay here all night. It’s cold and if someone sees you, they’ll think something’s up.” Which there was, but Hunter didn’t speak that thought aloud. “Are you hungry? Cause like, I can get you some food and some warm clothes.”

Hunter was struck by his willingness to invite her over. But this didn’t need to be weird, not when she was in such a worrisome situation. “Only if you want, though. No pressure.”

[kismcts]

makeitrainmoreno:

Imogen didn’t blame Eli for appearing so blatantly confused- she’d been rather thrown for a loop herself bys some of the changes that had taken place in recent years, and she’d been there to see the gradual shift- getting all of this information at once was surely a lot to take. Still, she wasn’t terribly sympathetic, having just discovered a ghost in her new bedroom. Clearly, they’d both need to be getting used to sudden shifts in their worldview. 

Despite how surreal the conversation had been so far though, Imogen felt she’d been handling things pretty well. At least, she had been until the topic of conversation suddenly changed from fashion and satanists to her moving in.

“I… yeah,” she answered, expression kept carefully neutral. Feeling such a short response would only lead to more questions, she quickly elaborated “No one else new is moving in though, just me. This is my mom’s place these days” She didn’t particularly want to explain any further, and hoped he wouldn’t ask.

“But, uh, speaking of me moving in. Maybe we should get some ground rules out of the way?“ she suggested, eager to change the subject.

It hit Eli suddenly: now that his presence was known, he had to wonder if it would be welcome. After all, this was now Imogen’s room. Had he been in her shoes, he certainly would have had reservations about sharing a room with a ghost -- despite the fact that he wasn’t even remotely alive. He was still sentient on some level.

He could sense Imogen’s hesitation about elaborating, so he didn’t prod any further. Eli understood all too well the need to only offer up the bare minimum. The time would eventually come where Imogen felt the need to delve into his past.

The internet would offer up some kind of explanation as to his demise. But the rest of his life--the depressing details that led up to his end--would have to come from Eli himself. There was nothing to lose really and yet, he was already sure that it would be a difficult topic to breach. Eli could only hope against hope that it wouldn’t come up for quite some time.

Nodding at her suggestion, Eli gave her his full attention. “Yeah, definitely. What are you thinking?”

[waitingforthefireflies]

I can’t help thinking that every man, even a king, should have some kind of skill. One that I didn’t inherit, wasn’t given to me and can’t be taken away.

[shieldarmed-a-deactivated202210]

   friendly reminder that if we write together i do not want you to feel pressured or stressed about our thread/s. i am slow™ and i do not expect you to reply quickly, reply lengthily, or reply /at all/ if you cannot find the insp / muse for it. i will not resent you in any way if i see you replying to other threads on my dash. i will not resent you if i see you doing everything B U T writing on the dash. if i follow you and we’ve plotted or have been writing together, i enjoy seeing you on my dash. period. you replying to me in any timeline is not a condition of my liking / supporting / appreciating you. so pls don’t apologize for taking your time. pls don’t apologize for dropping threads. write what you want to when you want to and feel free to come to me if you ever want to start something new / plot something / rework a starter i’ve written you.

[kismcts]

.

[kismcts]

"Can I kiss you?" (Lola to Hunter~)

Send "Can I kiss you?" to see how my muse responds.

Every day, Lola got prettier, and Hunter got more painfully awkward as a result. The world seemed a mystery to her and yet she encountered all of it with bravery and optimism. It was so different from himself.

Hunter had more opportunities (thanks to his wealthy family) than most, but oftentimes found himself closed off. Lola was tugging him out of his shell inch by inch, making him embrace his comfort zone.

But he was perfectly hopeless when it came to girls.

Her question had Hunter frozen like a deer in headlights, his mouth slightly agape. He nearly turned his head to see if she was somehow addressing a person behind him. Did she really want to kiss him? He would have laughed at the notion if he was capable of reacting at all.

It took Hunter a good ten seconds to get his wits about him. He was sure he looked like an idiot, but Lola already had months worth of experience dealing with his social awkwardness and oftentimes curt personality.

“Um,” he finally worked out, his voice soft and extremely unsure. There was no doubt that he wanted to kiss her. The question was whether he would be any good at it. If he’d even manage to aim for her mouth at all. With his luck, he’d wind up kissing her chin or nose.

Things like this came so easily to Miles, and even Frankie was getting the hang of dating. Why was he still so inept in this arena?

Shuffling forward just the slightest bit, Hunter nodded his head. “Yeah, I’d like that,” he answered, smiling shyly at Lola. Eventually he worked up the courage to meet her halfway, his nerves still present but more tolerable.

“But if I suck at this, you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”