#ft. kit

[eizagzlz]

babe, I’m confused about the ending of “Heartstopper.” Is it going to be a movie now? Are you already filming it? Are you excited? I need details and spoilers. No, don't give me spoilers, just tell me how are you?! @itskitconnor

[bookishbilly]

↳INSTAGRAM: @billymchale a photo:

Shoutout to the Hudsons for letting me crash their sweet day out. Coolest family ever. (Not pictured: Lo & Jenna. Lo because Jenna got ice cream in his hair and he didn't want it documented. Jenna because she's perfect and adorable and too cute for the world.)

[slateskylar]

oh my friend, where did you go? // self-para

It was easy enough for Slate to tell Kit and Micah Rowe apart. While their faces looked the same, they wore them differently. Each of them had their own brand of mischief, with Kit’s more closely resembling Slate’s. The two once carried on a prank for a good year where they convinced the mayor that he was getting letters from some community in the Wilds; he’d wasted precious Peacekeeper resources on the shit, too, looking for this place that didn’t exist. Micah had been in on it, too, sort of, but had never really gotten invested, had never taken the pen in his own hand to write the messages.

Moving to Hestia’s had been difficult because Slate had left the community he’d come to know, the community where he’d been squatting alongside a bunch of others without homes. Finding out that the Rowe twins lived near Hestia, were his age, and were more than happy to let him in on whatever shit they were up to helped him to feel like he was actually growing to be part of this new neighborhood.

Micah’s disappearance had shaken them all, though. Hestia had taken to keeping a closer eye on Slate, and Slate had joined the search parties as long as they’d lasted. He’d always gotten the sense that Micah liked him less, or like there was something strange between them -- whether it was a wall or something else, he’d never been quite sure. But now he’d never know, and it killed him as he traipsed through the woods alongside the dwindling numbers of other searchers. Eventually the searching died down, energy moving to something else, and hope snuffed out as quickly as it often was in District Twelve.

The hope that existed this far out, in the rainy, dark landscape of Slate’s home, was only a small flame in comparison to that which burned bright in the Capitol. Maybe if a sixteen year old had gone missing in the Capitol, people would care for longer. Or they’d have found him quicker. But not here. Here, people hung up their mud-encrusted boots and got on with it.

Kit was ignoring him, which made it worse. Just weeks ago he’d been one of his closest friends, a confidante, someone who liked the same things he did and who would cook up schemes alongside him. Now he didn’t talk to him at all. So Slate faded out, too, from the searches. He returned to Hestia’s, locking him in his room and playing loud music, tearing through books in the hopes of finding a reality somewhere that would be easier to swallow.

He hadn’t spoken to his friend since Micah’s disappearance, and he missed him and thought about him often, wishing things could go back to normal but lacking the skill or awareness to try to fix it (or perhaps lacking the belief that he could). Still, Kit was far from his mind as he took his spot in the line with the other eighteen year olds. Kit was only a few dozen spaces away from him, it turned out, but Slate’s mind was far away, thinking of the job he’d be doing when he got back to the Capitol, thinking of the Head Gamemaker, wondering if this was better or worse than the job he’d just quit.

Wondering, too, of course, if his own name would be called.

When Moxie called out Kit’s, the repetition of it was helpful for him, too, as he found his own vision tunneling in shock.

No.

[bluhours]

     *  blankie  fort  @favritepart​

          salt  and  pepper  hair  hangs  in  his  face  as  he  finishes  hanging  the  last  sheet,  a  toothy  grin  breaking  out  on  his  lips  as  he  admires  his  hard  work.  every  blanket,  pillow,  couch  cushion,  and  any  other  plush - like  material  he  could  find  has  been  put  into  the  fort  ;  each  of  gigi’s  stuffed  companions  lined  up  inside  so  she  can  take  her  pick.  kit  is  beyond  proud  of  what  he’s  done,  taking  the  stairs  up  to  the  loft  two  at  a  time  to  find  gigi  primping  at  herself  at  her  vanity.  ❝  you  can  come  down  now,  pup.  your  surprise  is  finished.  ❞

[mvrcutios]

ft. @ofkits​

His bag is shouldered with relative ease, having finally surrendered scouring pages of a book that was all too useless in what he’d been searching for. Xan rubbed tired eyes, wincing at the scratchiness and could feel how rough he looked. It was a common theme, the tired eyes and lackluster pallor. Everyone seemed a bit rocked by the truth. He wouldn’t fault them their idiocies. Making his way to the lower level of the library, he reached it the same time as another familiar face, gesturing for them to precede him as they made their way into the chilled air. “You alright, Kit?”

[bluhours]

      *  starter  for  my  babey  @wndrlands​

      ⥽  skates  come  to  a  DEAD  stop  in  front  of  her,  ice  particles  dusting  along  the  petite  woman’s  leggings  as  kit  can  only  LAUGH  in  response.  she  jolts  in  response,  causing  her  to  stumble  ;  tatted  hands  immediately  reaching  out  to  catch  her  before  gigi  has  a  chance  to  hit  the  ice.  ❝  i  got  you,  pup.  ❞  the  petname  rolls  off  his  tongue  easily,  hands  lingering  on  her  arms  as  he  steadies  her  on  her  skates  in  front  of  him.  towering  over  her,  kit  extends  both  of  his  hands  out  to  gigi  to  actually  HELP  HER  skate,  instead  of  being  an  ass  and  spinning  around  her  —  much   prouder  with  showing  off  instead  of  being  supportive.  ❝  daddy  won’t  let  you  fall . . .  at  least  not  on  PURPOSE.  i  can’t  make  any  promises  though.  ❞

[bluhours]

       *  @wrstbehaviors​  kigi  for  u.  finally

          she’s  curled  up  so  tightly  in  his  lap,  and  kit  can  feel  the  soft  and  even  breathing  of  her  finally  being  asleep.  kit’s  pretty  sure  she’s  been  running  on  coffee  and  pure  fumes  for  two  days  now,  judging  by  the  way  she’s  absolutely  CRASHED  in  his  lap.  for  the  past  four  hours  he’s  been  terrified  to  move,  even  with  the  way  his  legs  grow  numb  as  she’s  straddled  his  lap  in  his  gaming  chair.  digits  drag  up  and  down  her  back  as  he  watches  the  monitor,  feeling  her  beginning  to  s t i r  in  his  arms.  with  bright  and  bleary  eyes  looking  up  at  him,  salt  and  pepper  hair  hanging  in  his  face,  kit  offers  her  a  smile.  ❝  there  she  is.  my  pretty  girl.  did  you  have  a  good  sleep  ?  i  don’t  think  you  even  knew  you  fell  asleep  —  swear  to  god  you  were  talking  to  me  one  second  and  out  cold  the  next.  ❞

[bluhours]

      @favritepart​  I HAVE TO GO AHVE THIS   

          the  soft  jingle  of  a  bell ,  and  the  sound  of  socked  feet  tapping  along  the  ground  fill  the  air  of  the  penthouse  suite.  despite  her  meltdown  only  an  hour  ago,  (  for  reasons  that  he  is  not  entirely  clear  about  either  )  kit  can  already  tell  she’s  trying  to  seek  him  out  again.  it’s  not  hard  to  find  him,  lounging  on  the  couch  with  a  controller  in  his  hands.  he’s  in  a  party  with  a  couple  of  his  friends ,  but  the  chime  of  gigi’s  collar  has  caught  his  attention  rather  quickly.  ❝  what  can  i  do  for  you,  pup  ?  ❞  he  has  no  shame  around  his  friends  (  for  they  have  heard  worse  out  of  him  ) ,  acting  as  if  he  would  when  they  were  alone.  ❝  did  ya’  miss  me  too  much  ?  have  you  CALMED  DOWN  now  ?  ❞