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[educautional-blog]

THE MOST FORGIVING GIRLFRIEND EVER !

eyes  widen  slightly  ,  her  good  humor  fading  as  she  registers  the  GUILT  ,  quick  half  -  apology  streaming  from  his  lips  ,  cushioned  with  sweet  nothings  .  ❝   kennedy … did  you  MURDER  our  plant  child  ??     ❞  there  is  warning  in  her  voice  ,  pitch  rising  ——-  she  may  as  well  be  TOWERING  over  him  .   a  smack  to  his  arm  with  a  whine  of  obvious  dismay  .  ❝   you  so  did  !  seriously  ?!    ❞  

and now the PANIC sets in. all traces of mirth disappear from a face filled with true terror. though he might have a half foot in height advantage, he suddenly feels very SMALL under that fiery malachite gaze. to be fair, she left it alone in his apartment, allowed him free reign over yet another plant life in his long string of horticultural FAILURES. audible gulp. engage full apology mode.

❛ i’m sorry ------ !!!  you know i never MEAN to kill the plants! ❜

[educautional-blog]

MOST FORGIVING GIRLFRIEND !

❝   —————  so  what  you’re  saying  is  you’re  slowly  letting  it  die  .     ❞   she  struggles  to  keep  the  amusement  from  twitching  in  the  corner  of  her  mouth  ,  brows  slipping  high  on  a  pale  forehead  .  she  crosses  her  arms  over  her  chest  ,  head  shaking  in  mock  disappointment  .  ❝   obviously  you’re  just  determined  to  break  my  heart  .     ❞

❛ well... when i say a LITTLE brown........ ❜ he thinks of the shriveled leaves, the stalks cracked under the weight of their own DESICCATED limbs, the way the dried plant matter seemed to whisper to him when he’d opened up the curtains that morning: how could you let me DIE, kennedy, they’d opined, crumbling. SHEEPISH is his expression as he returns his gaze to meet her own. ❛ that might be a euphemism. it probably died like a WEEK ago. i just noticed this morning. but uh... i love you? is that enough to SAVE me? ❜

[educautional-blog]

❛ so like. you know how you gave me that plant? that i was supposed to water like pretty much only twice a week and you said something along the lines of ‘even a plant murderer like you could take care of this plant. ❜ brows arch hopefully, some strange mix of contrition and perhaps a small, miniscule amount of fear.  ❛ i uh.... well, i had to pick some stuff for the winter concert, and i also had some designs to do and well, you know, it’s... it’s looking a bit brown. i don’t think it’s gonna make it. ❜

[educautional-blog]

PATCH !

❛     &&  you  happen  to  be  ridiculously  biased .    ❜   there  is  AMUSEMENT  in  her  reply  ,  a  smile  dancing  upon  those  ruddy  lips  as  she  catches  his  gaze  .  her  lids  falter  at  the  tender  brush  of  fingertips  against smooth  flesh   , leaning  into  his  touch  ;  like  she’s  starved  for  it .

 ❛     mmn . ————————-  missed  you  today . ❜ 

❛ missed you too. ❜ and then he can’t speak anymore, because he’s focused on her mouth, the way it moves around her words, the way it looks so soft under the dim light, and he’s back again. this time the kiss verges on harsh. his mouth moves on hers with almost frenzied heat, a hand rising to tangle in her hair, breath frantic upon her skin as his body urges hers back toward the bed.

[educautional-blog]

PATCH !

she  wants  to  argue  .  she  wants  to  scream  it  out  at  the  top  of  her  lungs  .  i  don’t  care  !  we  need  to  talk  about  this  !  her  heart  ACHES  every  time  his  face  comes  into  view  ,  so  terrified  she  may  never  see  it  again  .  for  a  time  ,  she  had  almost  given  up  hope  that  she would  .  she  cleans  his  wounds  ,  she  swipes  at  stumps  where  legs  used  to  stand  tall  without  batting  a  lash  .  but  the  questions  grow  harder  &&  harder  to  quell  ,  threatening  to  spill  over  in  a  great  wave  of  indignation  .  even now  ,  her  smile  is  tight  ,  a  nod  given  .

    ❛      ———  okay  .  i’ll  just  —  okay  .  sorry  .   ❜

hatred beats a rapid tattoo against the creaking cage of his ribs. he is filled with an unbridled rage which is wholly unfamiliar to him; none of it, however, is directed outward. none of it is for patch to bear. what would he give to be able to stand and hold her? to tell her everything is all right? to laugh this off as a cruel joke that she can forgive him for later? his fury is all internal, directed toward his own inability to articulate to her the horrors he has faced. a sigh. all of the wind is knocked out of him in a loud gust and he slumps, shoulders waning until he looks rather unlike himself, a frail crescent of a man who lacks even the ability to hold his head up.

❛ no ----- i’m sorry. i ... it’s just hard, okay? it isn’t that i don’t trust you. i don’t ... i wouldn’t even know where to begin. and i don’t know if i can make it through. ❜

[educautional-blog]

PATCH !

she  can  taste  the  liquor  on  his  lips ,  feel  the  heat  that  sears  his  cheeks  as  they  press  against  her  own  .  like  a  moth  to  flame  ,  she  clings  ,  pale  fingers  carding  in  locks  that  tousle  freely  .  he’s  a  mess  ;  her  mess  .

 ❛   —————————  someone  seems  happy  to  see  me  …        ❜

for a moment he pulls back, allows his intoxicated mind to take in her transcendent beauty, the way her lashes flutter against his cheeks, the way a blush stains the apples of her cheeks in tempting strokes of rose and scarlet. his fingers rise to brush across her skin. no matter the booze which might coat his tongue, his words ring true, sneaking through his wide smile easily.

❛ i’m always happy to see you. you look AMAZING. ❜

[educautional-blog]

❛ patch ----- i don’t know how to say it any more clearly. ❜ stuck. he’s stuck in the chair, stuck in the unending pain, stuck in the rut of trying to smile and trying to pretend that everything is okay. that part of him wasn’t left behind in the mud and the blood and the desolation. he tries his hardest not to get exasperated; love swells in his chest every time he looks at her, every time she touches him, every time she sponges the stitches which mark the ends of where his legs used to be. and when he looks up at her again, it’s with a small smile on his face, features tugged into something that resembles contrition.

❛ i just don’t really want to talk about it right now. ❜

[educautional-blog]

maybe he’s a little tipsy. maybe he’s just drunk on life, love, the pursuit of ------ no, he’s definitely tipsy, and he stumbles into the room with something verging on a giggle. fumbling hands find her face with ease; that face is as familiar to him as his own ( perhaps more -- he doesn’t spend much time looking at his own face ) and his mouth seeks out the plush softness of hers with heated urgency. when he does speak, it’s a mumble, a muffled utterance which is breathed against her mouth, unwilling as he is to allow their lips to part.

❛ hello. ❜

[educautional-blog]

i’m probably going to be here later, but for now, catch me on my multi muse.

[educautional-blog]

i’m probably going to be here later, but for now, catch me on my multi muse.

[educautional-blog]

Ginnifer Goodwin in Something Borrowed

[educautional-blog]

PATCH !

heat blossoms from the spots where his fingers meet pale flesh , his eyes glossing over the tiny tattoo left there by his own hand , years ago . of course she kept it . she’ll always keep it , && perhaps later that day , her fingers will brush over it’s twin , now hidden beneath his clothes ( his had to be much more DISCREET after all . his parents would have killed him back then . ) there’s very little time to react as he grabs hold of that same wrist , a squeak slipping from rosy lips as she’s all but dragged from the apartment  .

 ❛    goodness gracious ! slow down ! you’re going to make me trip ———     ❜

now he’s laughing, slowing his stride to match hers lest they end up in a tangle of limbs on the ground. in one smooth motion, he’s let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, tucking her against him until she fits familiarly against his side. the way they walk side-by-side is easy, fluid, like they’ve been doing it all their lives.

( they have ).

❛ sorry, sorry -- with my long, graceful limbs, it’s easy to forget that some people have short little legs they have to use to walk. ❜

[educautional-blog]

STRANGER !

           it’s not the pigeon itself that encourages the questioning arch of her brow, lips parted slightly as if a query is poised and ready to to fall from them. one of the regulars in a café she once worked frequently came to tea with a squirrel riding in her handbag, taking scraps of scone as a reward for sitting quietly while old mrs. griffiths did her crossword. no, it’s not the actual pet pigeon. it’s the pet pigeon’s ability to stare into her soul – possibly looking for fears or weaknesses to exploit if the mood strikes him. it’s the bird’s ability to look like some sort of bond villain && an innocent woodland creature simultaneously that leaves her struggling to form a sentence. until : 

             ❛ he LOOKS it. ❜                         —  that’ll show him.      the foot shuffling continues as the owner ( or perhaps he, too, is a victim of the plotting pigeon ) of her assailant poses a question. surely sending an attack pigeon isn’t some sort of new, bizarre chat up tactic ? she stifles the urge to make a joke about carrier birds being a little old fashioned and instead picks at the hem of her jumper, eyes shifting about. her ability to read signals has been so compromised as of late, she doesn’t read too much into his comment – or make inferences o their intent. 

           ❛ oh – er, that’s very kind, on both counts,               but really, i’m fine. no harm, no fowl.   ❜        she might not know that a pigeon doesn’t classify as domesticated poultry and therefore isn’t REALLY a fowl, but it wouldn’t have mattered if she had.  ❛ besides, i’m not so sure that your friend is very keen on me && i’m meant to be running an errand just as soon as  i figure out where i’m actually going. ❜ truthfully, she had been wandering the streets trying to get her bearings prior to this encounter.

it’s a good thing that inherent introversion outweighs his uncanny ability to ramble off his inner monologue, because otherwise, she would be under attack once again -- but this time, it would be a verbal onslaught, apologies strung with unnecessary factoids and probably a lot of fidgeting. as it is, though, his mouth merely gapes a bit. fish-like. probably exceedingly attractive.

luckily, though, she’s talking again, and laughing at her ( perhaps misinformed, but he doesn’t know the precise parameters of the fowl designation either ) joke seems like a safe option. one hand lifts to give the back of his head an awkward scratch. since the offer wasn’t exactly a come-on, there’s no wince at rejection -- nothing but an amicable shrug, and a sheepish smile.

❛ trust me, the pecking means he likes you. in his own sick, twisted way. you should see my sock drawer. ❜ as though to punctuate this point, mortimer lets loose a small coo, and kennedy looks down at him with disapproval. the smug and watchful bird eye is not helping matters; it’s probably only because kennedy had recently been pooped upon that this poor stranger was spared the humiliation.

❛ listen, i feel really terrible, so can i -- at least help you figure out where you’re going? i’ve lived here forever. mortimer has pooped on all of the monuments. ❜ pause. a grimace at the creep-factor. ❛ i’ll give you my driver’s license or something. for collateral. you know, to text a picture of me to all your friends in case i turn out to be a psycho. which i’m not. only my pigeon is the psycho. i’m gonna shut up. also, i’m kennedy, probably the biggest idiot you’ll meet here. ❜

[educautional-blog]

ok so i am going to do replies here, and then i will be on my Brand New Multi-Muse Blog later c: 

[educautional-blog]

"Let's cuddle and be sluggish all night long."

his lips press gently to her forehead, lingering as he allows himself a moment to breathe the floral scent which always clings to her skin. it’s as easy as breathing to wrap his arms around her, clutch her to his chest like she’s a lifeline, tackle her onto the bed until he’s hovering over her with a wide smile adorning his features.

❛ that sounds perfect. ❜ fingers dance up her shoulders, scrawl lazy patterns over her collarbones, move to massage her head with languid ease. in the dusty light of evening, she is ethereal, silver in the light of the rising moon, her hair a dark halo around her head. he is – as always – struck dumb by her beauty.

and so he occupies their mouths with a kiss. it is soft, a quiet press of lips which brings no expectations to the table.

❛ netflix and chill. oh god. sorry. i ruined it. ❜

meme. || @fllowershop​

[educautional-blog]

"You just made my terrible day not so terrible."

❛ well, i aim to please. ❜ for some reason, cart-purchased falafel tastes better when strolling through central park: the manicured grass, the quiet chatter, dogs on leashes, dusk filtering through the leaves to dapple the ground with blood orange light. they munch in companionable silence, listening to the ambient noise of a busy path, laughing in unison as a toddler wanders off after a stream of bubbles.

these weekly walks have become easy. comforting. a routine to which they both look forward – which kennedy anticipates with excitement every day. 

❛ i’m sorry your day was terrible. ❜ genuine compassion shades his expression with gray, puts a filter of concern over the bright smile with which he so often graces her. fingers brush across her shoulder, lingering in a gesture of solidarity – just for a moment, and then it strays back to the food in his grasp, fiddling with the stick upon which is skewered this impromptu meal.

❛ if you wanna tell me about it – you know you can. i’m here for you. ❜ always.

meme. || @stripylegs​

[educautional-blog]

Absolutely Disgusting Shippy Starters

"I got you a little something..."

"You look adorable in that."

"Flowers? For me?"

"Close your eyes. I have a surprise for you."

"I know you had a long day, so I took care of dinner."

"I did a little shopping at the naughty store."

"Let's cuddle and be sluggish all night long."

"Did I tell you you're beautiful, today?"

"I already ordered pizza for tonight."

"Candles, rose petals and champagne? What's the occasion."

"I can't believe that you fell in love with me."

"What is the one thing you absolutely, positively wanted?"

"Time to bury ourselves in blankets and ignore the rest of the world."

"Gimme that phone. It's getting shut off."

"You did all this for me?"

"Normally I hate surprises, but you did good."

"You just made my terrible day not so terrible."

"I will protect you, no matter what."

"Let's get a little tipsy for science."

"Wow. You look amazing."

"If it wasn't for the fact that I am so happy I would be suspicious right now."

"I love you so much."

"Shall we climb into bed?"

"You tried and that's what counts."

"I just want to curl up into your arms and sleep for days."

"I just have one question for you; ice cream or popcorn?"

"We should go to the festival!"

"You're not going anywhere without me. Especially anywhere dangerous."

"How would you feel about getting married?"