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[thedottedi-official]

Gifting wine on any occasion is can be a thoughtful gesture which shows appreciation and solicitousness towards recipient. Gifting wine is a popular gifting choice for the people who are wine lovers. At Dottedi you are offered with the amazing wine gift hampers which can be delivered across pan India and ensures that it reaches to the recipient in the perfect condition. Select the best wine gift hamper and add a special taste and personal touch with this perfect and delightful gift.

[noisycowboyglitter]

Chicken Nuggets Are My Valentine: Perfect for a Fun Date Night In

Chicken nuggets, those golden-brown morsels of crispy deliciousness, have captured the hearts of many food enthusiasts worldwide. For some, these bite-sized pieces of breaded chicken transcend mere snack status to become the ultimate comfort food – a culinary valentine that never disappoints.

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Picture this: It's February 14th, and while others are exchanging roses and chocolates, you're cozied up on the couch with a steaming plate of chicken nuggets. The satisfying crunch as you bite into the crispy exterior gives way to tender, juicy meat within. Each nugget is a perfect morsel of happiness, no fancy restaurant reservation required.

These versatile treats cater to all tastes and occasions. Whether you prefer them classic style with ketchup, dressed up with tangy barbecue sauce, or dunked in creamy ranch, chicken nuggets adapt to your mood. They're the non-judgmental companion that's always there for you, ready to soothe a broken heart or celebrate life's little victories.

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Chicken nuggets don't demand grand gestures or expensive gifts. They're content to be your Netflix binge partner, your midnight snack, or your impromptu dinner when adulting feels too hard. In a world of complex relationships, they offer simplicity and reliability.

For the true nugget aficionado, exploring different varieties becomes a delicious adventure. From fast-food favorites to gourmet versions made with organic, free-range chicken, there's a nugget for every palate. Some even experiment with homemade recipes, crafting the perfect nugget as a labor of love.

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So this Valentine's Day, why not skip the candlelit dinner and embrace the unpretentious charm of chicken nuggets? They may not write you poetry or serenade you under the stars, but they'll never let you down. In the end, isn't that what true love is all about?

Valentine's Day flowers are a timeless symbol of love and affection. Vibrant red roses traditionally dominate, their deep hue expressing passion and romance. However, bouquets now often feature a diverse array of blooms, from elegant lilies to cheerful sunflowers, catering to various tastes and sentiments. Florists craft stunning

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arrangements, combining different flowers, colors, and textures to create personalized expressions of love. Whether presented as a surprise delivery or hand-given, these floral gifts convey heartfelt emotions without words. The sweet fragrance and visual beauty of Valentine's Day flowers serve as a cherished reminder of love's presence in our lives.

[gulfflora123]

Online Flowers | Cakes | Gifts Delivery In Khamis Mushait | Same Day Delivery

Flowers, the best, most unique, and most beautiful gift from nature, can take away all your worries of the day. Just one sniff at the scent of the gorgeous natural beauties, and you are transported instantly into a world of happiness, lightness, and a dreamlike world. Gifting a flower garland or bouquet can be the best thing you ever did for someone, and there is a guarantee that they will smile and blush when they receive it with your name. With Gulfflora online flower delivery in Khamis Mushait, you can send fresh flowers, which our florist in Khamis Mushait handpicked with care to anyone in Khamis Mushait. Please select from our vast collection, including lilies, orchids, sunflowers, tulips, roses, daisies, and more. Then, send a flower bouquet with all one-of-a-kind flowers or mix and match to create a personal customized garland, which will surely surprise your other half.

[giftdubaionline]

Sending Gifts to Dubai: How Does It Work?

Are you intrigued by the idea of sending gifts to Dubai? Whether it's a special occasion, a birthday, or just a heartfelt gesture, the act of sending a thoughtful gift to someone in Dubai can be a wonderful experience. But how does it work, and what do you need to know to make sure your gift reaches its destination with a smile? Let's embark on a curious journey to discover the answers to some frequently asked questions about sending gifts to Dubai.

Can I Send Gifts to Dubai from Anywhere in the World?

Absolutely! One of the beauties of modern technology and global connectivity is that you can send gifts to Dubai from virtually anywhere on the planet. Whether you're sitting in the bustling streets of New York or enjoying the serene landscapes of Tokyo, as long as you have access to the internet, you can send your love and gifts to Dubai.

What Types of Gifts Can I Send to Dubai?

Dubai is a vibrant and diverse city, which means you have an incredible array of options when it comes to selecting gifts. You can send everything from traditional gifts like flowers, chocolates, and personalized gift items to more unique and exotic presents. Consider local delicacies, art pieces, or even spa packages for a touch of luxury.

How Do I Choose the Perfect Gift?

Choosing the perfect gift depends on the recipient's tastes and the occasion. Are you celebrating a birthday, an anniversary, or just sending a surprise to brighten someone's day? Take into account the recipient's interests and preferences, and you'll be well on your way to selecting the perfect gift that will bring joy.

What About Gift Delivery in Dubai?

Gift delivery in Dubai is a well-organized and efficient process. Many online platforms and local shops offer delivery services. You can choose the date and time for delivery, ensuring that your gift arrives exactly when you want it to. Plus, you can add a personal message to make the gift even more special.

How Long Does It Take for Gifts to Reach Dubai?

The delivery time can vary depending on the location of the sender and the chosen delivery service. However, most gift delivery services provide estimated delivery times at the time of purchase. Make sure to check these details when placing your order to ensure your gift arrives on time for the special occasion.

Is It Safe and Secure to Send Gifts to Dubai?

Yes, it is safe and secure to send gifts to Dubai when using reputable and established gift delivery services. These services often have a track record of successfully delivering gifts, ensuring that your thoughtful gesture reaches its intended recipient without any hiccups.

Can I Track the Delivery of My Gift?

Many gift delivery services offer tracking options, allowing you to keep an eye on the progress of your gift as it makes its way to Dubai. This feature can provide peace of mind and keep you informed about the status of your delivery.

What Payment Options Are Available for Sending Gifts to Dubai?

Online gift shops and delivery services typically offer a range of payment options, including credit cards, debit cards, and sometimes even online payment platforms like PayPal. Choose the method that's most convenient for you when placing your order.

How Can I Add a Personal Touch to My Gift?

Adding a personal touch to your gift is easy. Most gift delivery services allow you to include a personalized message or even select a specific wrapping style. Take advantage of these options to make your gift feel extra special and tailored to the recipient.

Sending gifts to Dubai can be a delightful experience, filled with thoughtfulness and excitement. Now that you have answers to some of the most frequently asked questions about gift delivery in Dubai, you can confidently embark on your gift-giving journey and bring smiles to your loved ones in this magnificent city. So, go ahead, explore the options, choose the perfect gift, and let the magic of gift-giving unfold.

[whatifitis]

♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡

Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.

Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭

WC: 1045

CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff

You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.

Fucker 

It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep. 

For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep. 

However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you. 

Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees. 

Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place. 

The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint. 

Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando. 

The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up. 

Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”

As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him. 

The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment. 

Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded. 

What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!

As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area. 

Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face. 

The cheeky fuck. 

“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect. 

“A mattress?” you ask.

“A mattress.” 

After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”

“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve. 

He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home. 

“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim. 

You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”

You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement. 

“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?” 

Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices. 

“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked. 

You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”

“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”

You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it. 

[vifilms]

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY

feat. contractor!abby x exgf!reader

content warning. eighteen+, smut, angst, some fluff sprinkled in, devastating dykes, nickname for reader (cherry), jealousy, long lost love trope, hazel (spoiler alert, she’s a cunt), just an emotional ass fic.

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY, she was the healing in a world that struck so much pain, a life you would like to forget, but can you truly forget just how much you loved her?

rayray sesh. been working on this baby for over a month and i’m very happy to post it on time! happy birthday, pookie — @sinstear ♡ this is my special crafted gift i wrote just for you on a day to celebrate just how amazing you are. erenboo, you deserve all the love in the world. i hope you enjoy this as much as i took joy in writing it for you. my love, sweat, tears, and cum are laced in it. special delivery. i love you so much, bub. always and forever.

✶ special shoutout to @hypnagogics aka my co-yap captain. thank you for proofreading my bigger projects. you are a godsend. my nonsensical typos would surely make it if it wasn’t for you. mwahmwah! you’re the sweetest, ily ♡

✶ header heavily inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners

word count, 14k.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞

The more you try to hide from it, the harder it’ll be when you face it — at least those are the words Abby had heard from her old man for as long as she could remember. Suddenly, nearly thirty-years later, they reverberated in her mind like a ring of a bell. A vibrating reminder of how her life remained the same, your love having limitations, requirements she never could have been aware of at the ripe age of eighteen. 

All she needed was more time, more understanding, and a patient heart that was never reciprocated. On a day like today, she’s reminded of 

In Jacksonville, there wasn’t much going on, and talk travels faster than the speed of lightning. Murmurs of your return started the moment Dina found out, then it spread like wildfire. All of it feels just like yesterday but the spring of her youth is a far cry away, just dust and bones to be found on the ashes of adolescence.  

If the world was perfect, Abby could avoid all of this. 

Maybe if her life had turned out the way she envisioned. 

But it didn’t and neither did yours. Not as of late. Although Abby had to be tightlipped about it, business and pleasure entangled, all of that nonsense floating around her pretty head. A voice she once thought she had forgotten comes back with a violent need to be recognized, a calming notion before it punches her in the gut. 

Not to mention, she just had to be on your father’s payroll, had to face the person she was never good enough for. All of it feels nauseating. Excruciating. 

Reminder of a wound she’s never recovered from. Memories high and low come flooding, and with you in her line of vision, it only gets worse. 

Way fucking worse. 

“What is she doing back?” 

“As if anyone would want her here.” 

“Abby, was she even supposed to be here?” 

The questions pile along with the bile collecting in the back of Abby’s throat. The pit in her stomach manifests a black hole, feeling herself succumb to the spin of everyone’s empty threats spilling from her friends to you. Abby can tell just by the way you’re downing the glass of champagne and picking up the next, coming here wasn’t your choice.

If you could have helped it, you would have never come back in such a public setting.  

“Abby, are you listening?” She sighs, but still unable to take her eyes off you. 

“Do I need to rea—” 

“Yeah yeah, all of you hate them. I get it.” 

“It’s not that simple. They aren’t good for you.”

There’d been murmurs through the small town of your return. That’s what happens when your mom gets sick, you come home and that you did. The anniversary of your parents, forty years strong, is the first public appearance. The absence of your brother’s appearance isn’t talked about, it’s brushed over, just like everything else, just like you. 

“Yep, I got it.” 

“I’m just looking out for you. They don’t appreciate you and—” Abby shoots her a knowing glare, annoyed with the intrusion of everyone thinking they knew best instead of herself. 

“Yeah, like I said, I hear you, but you don’t fucking know her. Neither do I, certainly not anymore.” 

Running a hand through her blonde-glistening locks, the sunset saturates her golden as she ignores Hazel, taking a sip of her beer as she takes you in. Everyone always has shit to say about you. Your parents, her friends, Abby’s parents, but no one really knows you. 

It’s not easy for you to let people in, you seem as harsh as can be to others, but Abby knows you’re quite the opposite. 

Different from everyone in the room, a polished cream suit and open collared button up shirt with your delectable collarbones exposed, your rings twinkle as you pet the husky, one you don't know belongs to Abby. If you did, your hand might feel repelled. 

It’s what you always wanted. A life out of here, out of the small town where you’ve always felt judged, persecuted, even ostracized when you came out — and you succeeded — leaving Abby behind in the process. Even if you didn’t intend to, it sort of just…happens. We leave the ones we love behind, even if it’s our last possible intention. 

Goodbye notions simmer and we forget about the love we once had. 

“Hazel, Dina was asking for you, she mentioned needing some help finding JJ’s pacifier?” 

“On it!” Abby chuckles as the cherry-haired girl flees into the other direction as Ellie laughs harder when she’s gone. 

“You’re welcome. She's like a dog with a bone when it comes to your beautiful ex-girlfriend.” 

“Watch it. Calling another woman beautiful, Dina might just skin you alive.” 

“Nope. She loves me too much.” 

Ellie chuckles as they watch you down another glass of champagne. Freeing your hair from the tight bun, your hair springs to life as it falls around your shoulders, framing your jawline as piercing eyes find the weeds poking through the freshly cut grass. 

A few people had offered up a sloppy introduction, a grievance of pity, before returning to their groups. Anxiously, you tear at the loose thread on the cuff of your sleeve. It gets longer and longer, avoiding everyone watching you. 

Pretending you don’t exist. You never do. Not in this wretched town where all dreams get sucked into a bottomless pit, where believers go to die. 

Abby nods, the feeling builds in the pit of her stomach as she yearns to get closer to you. Even after all the hurtful insults thrown her way years back, she’s conflicted. A missile is thrown into her life with your arrival and all of her friends, besides Ellie, tell her not to fall back into old patterns. Not to fall for your charm, not to be a victim to reckless love. 

The kind that left her empty for years. Abby knew the moment she fell, from the very first time they met, if you ever left her she’d never be the same again. You don't forget a love like this. It tears a hole within you before you even get a chance to think about it, their presence consuming your entirety, an empty promise of endless salvation dies on the tip of your tongue. 

Impossible shoes to ever be filled. 

Truly, Abby thought she had been in love before you, but she wasn’t. The feeling she’s been chasing for the rest of her life returns when she looks at you. Those bright eyes when you play with the pup, the gentle hand as your scrap his chin with the crescent of your blunt nails. 

She feels more looking at you for one moment than anyone she’s dated after you. 

It’s sickening. 

Still, her friends ridicule her any chance they get. Telling her of what you’re like, how you hurt her, what you’ll do when your claws sink into Abby. It falls on a hyper fixated heart. She can’t think of anything when all the blood comes rushing to her head, how beautiful you look when she sees you anxiously biting your bottom lip, something you do when you’re attempting to stop the tears from spilling. 

None of them knew what it meant to look in your eyes and wonder how someone so good couldn’t recognize the purity in your eyes, the love you give out when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. They didn’t see the years of torture, the family that wasn’t so perfect, the anger you held wound so tight. You didn’t have anywhere to put it. Never could. Not when the image of the perfect daughter is meant to be upheld. 

Not a soul knows the information Abby does. There’s nothing more you love than to hide in the shadows, hoping to be forgotten, how you nearly crave to be eaten alive if it means an end to your misery. It isn’t lost on her how much she wants to shield you from it all. 

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” 

Ellie points the glass of wine she’s been nursing to you, watching as you excuse yourself into the empty guest house. Your body is still viewable through the tall glass windows, your body disappearing from the common area of the small home. The exact one she’s been renovating per your mother’s request. 

“She’ll just—” Absentmindedly, Abby kicks the dirt with the toe of her boot, rooting her heel in the ground as she bites the wall of her gums, trying to center herself. Attempting to not let her mind wander into what if’s, what could have been. 

“What? Figure out you’re scared?” 

“I’m not scared.” Sighing into the palm of her hands as she can’t help but bite into Ellie’s comment, “It’s been years. For all I know, Cherry hates my guts. Not that it fucking matters, but I’m the last person they want to talk to. Plus, when she’s upset the last thing they want is to talk.”  

“You’ll do just fine, can’t be too bad. They were always sweet on you.” 

“It’s been years, Hazel’s right, in some sense I—” 

“Please, even you know the only thing she wants is to get in your pants. That part is lost on me, you’re too beefy for my taste.”

“Some people like that, dick.” 

“Your girlfriend sure did.” 

“Ex-girlfriend.” 

The rest of the night Abby avoids all of her friends, especially the meddling junkie, Hazel; fucking hazel. She wouldn’t let her rest. They never had done more than share a friendly hug and for some reason she always looked at Abby like she hung all the stars spreading across the galaxy. 

“Are you going to let Hazel think she has a chance forever?” 

Abby just shakes her head in omission. 

“There’s no chance, I’m not—” 

“Abby! I got you a glass of lemonade. Sweet with just a few cubes of ice, just the way you like it!” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows at Abby as if she has proved her point. 

As soon as Hazel turns around, Ellie goes right back to the pitch of her ex-girlfriend, trying to sell Abby on the past. The only woman Dina and her had liked in her mess of a dating scene. A long line of hookups, one serious relationship that ended so horrifically the cops had to be called, and then there was Hazel. A naive girl who had been harboring a crush for nearly a year, the time Dina had adopted her into their little makeshift family. 

You walk out of the guest house more comfortably. A pair of dark denim and a black graphic tee with the sleeves cut off. Abby smiles at how much you look like the woman she fell in love with, the youthful ache she still feels with every beat of her heart. The one you crushed in the palm of her hands without thinking twice. 

Abby’s throat constricts when you catch her staring, quickly looking away, biting at your fingernails before your father introduces you to the new neighbors. 

“What’s so important, Hazel?” Ellie bites. 

Hazel ignores her. All she can see is Abby looking right at you. 

Abby had realized she completely zoned out, her energy and focus harbored on you. Five minutes within your arrival and her head was already feeling the rapid hum of her heartbeat caught in the bottom of her throat as you looked at her again, just for a second longer before you turned the other direction, away from her gaze. 

“Abby—” 

Abby hums absentmindedly with you on her mind, infecting her thoughts like a former addict getting their first fix for years. The high. It feels even better than her mind could remember. The curious gaze in bright eyes feels intoxicating, too good to be true, and the fall feels higher than it ever was to begin with. 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s coming over here.” 

It only takes a few minutes before Abby takes a swig at her beer, wipes the sweat collecting on the palm of her hands. When you get closer, she notices the engraving of A.A. engraved on a glimmering silver ring. 

Did you keep it after all this time? 

“Tell her to leave—” 

“Hazel, for the love of god, would you shut your mouth?” Ellie barks as you make your way over to Abby. 

Abby tries to make her resolve hard, icy even, but it’s not. Her electrified blue eyes are warm, full of curiosity and wonder, her freckled cheeks are flushed from the heat of the sun and her barely there grin has you offering one of your own. 

“Abigail, hey.” 

Abby is surprised you hug her and she doesn't want to accept but it feels too rude not to. But the second her arms envelop around your body you fit perfectly into her. Just like all those years ago, you’re everything she loves. Like no time has passed, as if you didn’t rip her heart and stump out the love it once held. 

“It’s just Abby now.” Hazel interjects. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know, Abby, right.” 

“How could you? You’d have to be around—” 

Ellie gently elbows Hazel in the stomach, trying to silence her best efforts to scare you away from the treasury stock of a blonde she believes to be hers. 

“Abby, sorry. I’m just—” 

“You’ve always called me, Abigail. It’s alright. Promise.”

There she is. 

The charm that makes you fall when you don’t need to. It’s laughable that Abigail can make years of therapy, years of dating other people to get over her seem like a dream, as if it’d only just been the two of you all of this time. Like nothing had changed. 

But everything has. 

“Um, do you mind if we talk in private?” 

Abigail follows your lead into the empty house, the party rages outside as the two of you sit in the living room, neither of you knowing what way to take your best foot forward. 

“Sorry if I made things awkward with you and your girlfriend—” 

“Oh, uh, she’s not….we’re not dating or anything.” 

Shit. 

You wish she was. 

Abby doesn’t know what to think when the expression on your face wasn’t instant relief but instead turmoil within yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed as if you expected her to be in a relationship. It would leave you to escape from the overflow of feelings you had rushing through your core. 

“You look shocked.” 

“I just—” You bite your lip, looking anywhere but her, trying to put your best foot forward, like your father says, he’s the whole reason this conversation is even happening. “I can’t lie, it would have made this…easier? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” 

“What are you trying to do?” Abby has a bubbly laugh threatening to burst but she swallows it for the sake of your dignity. 

“Okay, well that’s not nice.” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Well, my dad he just thought that—” 

“Wait, you’re talking to me because of your dad?” Abby stands up from the couch, rubbing her hands over her flushed face. “Not even because it’s been years, but because — well, why?” 

“He was just encouraging me. I’m nervous, isn’t that fucking obvious? I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m eighteen again.” 

She’s standing at her tall height, looking down at you as you begin to cry. 

Well shit. 

“Hey, hey—” Abby sinks to the floor on her knees, her body between your legs. “C’mon, there’s no need for all of that.” 

“I hate that you haven’t changed.” 

“Did you want me to?” 

No, you say just to yourself. Not trusting the waver of your voice to give her the truth. There’s always so much on the line with her. Everything feels heavy, final, an anchor to hold you down but also drag everything you are, tangled with her sweet, honey-filled baby blues. 

“Can’t you be mean to me or something? Even the playing field a little bit.” 

“Not even a little, sweetheart. We both know I never could.” Her fingertips trace your forearm, a shiver courses throughout your body, “I will admit, everyone says I should.” 

“They’re right. I deserve it.” 

“If we all got what we deserved, well, that would be such an ugly world, wouldn’t it? Just because you did something hurtful doesn’t make you cruel. It makes you human.” 

“But I do deserve the cruelty.” 

“Fine, I hate you.” Abby says with a smirk on her face, wiping away a stray tear, looking too fondly on the woman who broke her heart. She’s too kind for her own good. 

The giggle Abby omits rivals sunshine. 

“I just didn’t want it to affect the work on the house, everything between us, it’s complicated and I’ll be in the guest house while my mom’s—” 

“I know, you don’t have to say it. Your dad may have mentioned it to me. I’m sorry, I truly am.” 

“I am too. For everything. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I was so young, scared, and I wanted you to hate me. It just seemed easier than having you actually miss me.” 

“I did miss you.” Abby's warm palm might as well be burning your denim jeans through as she touches your thigh. “You could have done the worst thing imaginable and I still would have. I’ve never had, uh, reason with you I guess. Love doesn’t know scorn, like a child with a knife, even if you can get hurt — sometimes it’s worth it.” 

The stars in her blue eyes hold the same light in them, too full of love, her older and refined spirit lays beneath them and she has become someone you have even more love for. It’s too damning. Abigail Anderson has always been more than you can handle, always outshining everyone in this small town even if she couldn’t see it for herself. 

“I’m surprised you came back for them, you know, after everything.” 

It’s not just them. 

“They say she doesn’t have a lot of time, so—” You sigh heavily into your palms, “And that’s not your problem, but thank you for being so cool about everything. Maybe we can be friends?” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Abby knows neither of you can’t. It’s never worked out that way. It’s all or nothing and she’s always been the all-in type of girl. She loves big, not caring if her own heart gets trampled in the process. 

Her love blinds like the sun, but it settles over your heart like the moonlight kissing the waves — you just hope the tide is strong enough to bring you home.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬��𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ❞

The first few weeks back at home felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as you disdained being home, the cracks of your family nearly breaking you in the process, you had her. 

Even if you didn’t really have her. 

The definite silence was not so, Abby still soaked in her warm heart, the one you hoped she kept. The best part of her. She’s too kind, even when you don’t deserve it, she still freely gives it. 

It bleeds into her work. 

Clearly, your father was more than fond of her. Several occasions they would be chumming it up, your father even grilling a few patty hamburgers up for them both when the clock struck noon. They always did love her, possibly even more than you, but to say they were devastated about the break would be a tragic understatement. 

Get her back. 

She’s a prize in this town. 

Abigail Anderson is the best you can do, you’re not doing better than Dr. Anderson’s daughter. 

But you never did try. You trusted the universe as a sign given. The people driving you out of this town sided with the woman you had broken up with, so you left and didn’t look back twice. 

Yet, she did, in more ways than you were even aware of. 

Because of her stupidly built physique, you couldn’t stop looking. 

Anchored into the heat, her muscles constrict as she helps the crew demo the tile of the master suite, the last touch of the renovation needs. Besides the final paint job in the guest house, Abby had finished it all. In all honesty, Abby was hoping all of it would be complete by the time you arrived back in town. Being around you on a daily basis, her friends telling her it’s only a matter of time before she’s back in your arms, it feels like a slap in the face. 

As if she has no self restraint. 

To be fair, she doesn’t. 

Abby’s gone to lunch with you three times, had coffee with you once, and she exhibits her obsessive memory — still having your order memorized — even if it's the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard of. She still finds herself stuck between your teeth like cotton candy. 

It’s all friendly, supposedly, but it’s the easiest thing to slip back. 

Old habits do die hard. 

Right now, you’re just watching her work. 

You’ve been doing it a lot lately. 

Out of habit, nervousness, maybe it’s the anxiety flooding through your bloodstream. All of this feels erasable. Too much thrown at you, with her, it always happens to be too irreplaceable. 

The ghost you’ve been running from, the one that hides in the shadow, even if you’ve tried to stay on the path you’ve created. Dug from the ashes of all your failures, she’s the one thing you haven’t made right. The nights where you got too drunk, nearly texting her or calling her, the picture you still curated in a specific folder, the one you would look for when you’re the weakest. 

Being back in your hometown, the first person who ever truly loved you, it feels suffocating. 

It doesn’t help that she looks so good. Or that she’s even kinder. The love in her eyes is even more whole-hearted than they were ten years ago. Part of you tells yourself you couldn’t even help yourself if you tried. This is just how it’s supposed to be. The heartbreaker pining for the woman’s heart you shattered into pieces. 

All it took, a few cups of coffee and Abby taking you to lunch and paying — it feels awfully like a date but you keep your mouth shut. Her being present in your life is already confusing enough; the added weight would just be unbearable. 

But after today, you won’t see her again. Painting the final room in the guest house is the last duty she has to fulfill and the renovation is done on your parent’s property. The ache in the pit of your stomach is unsettling as you attempt to simmer through and wonder why the pain becomes so deep. As if the woman in front of you was scorning you alive. 

“You need something or are you gonna stare at me all day?” 

You watch Abby throw the paint roller back in the tray, running the brush in the sage green, before turning the attention back to the wall, waiting for you to respond. 

“No, I wasn’t staring.” Abby chuckles at that. 

Chuckles. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

If you could see her pouty lips, you’re sure that they’d be pulled into a smirk. Lately, she’s been enjoying this too much. Catching you staring at her for too long, biting the precious bottom lip of yours as she’s putting her muscles to work or when you caught her peeling the sweaty tank of her body for a new one, every inch of her skin glowing in the wake of the blistering sun. 

Her abdomen, toned with a not so subtle four pack, her v-line defined as it disappears into her jeans. It’s sickening. Really. It is. She catches your self control slipping through the cracks, dignity along with it as you give in to her adonis-like physique. 

The shock going through your body, going completely still as Abby just chuckles, winking at you before she goes about her day. Like it was nothing, like this is a normal occurrence for her. You’re not sure what thought made you feel even more sick. 

Women fawning over her or what happened after. 

But you didn’t have a right, you know you didn’t. 

You swallowed the unflattering buzz of sweeping jealousy until you couldn’t feel in anymore. It’s not an emotion you even deserve to feel. While the two of you had been getting closer the longer you spent with each other, you knew your boundaries well enough to know you still weren’t there, you never would be. 

The ghosts from your past made damn sure of it. 

“I can pose for you if you’re going to keep looking.” 

“I wasn’t—” 

Abby wipes the mixture of sweat, oils, and paint on the pair of old blue-denim. She lets her blonde hair out of the bun she wore, despite the icy temperature, her body runs warm. 

“It’s okay to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” Suddenly you become defensive, arms crossing over your chest. 

“That you’re still attracted to me.” Abby takes your curves in and nearly blows a low whistle, “You’re awful at hiding it.” 

“I-I’m not, this isn’t….you’re not, like, easy to look at, you know? Uh, ummm….” 

Standing there like an idiot as you struggle to get the words out, nearly impossible to get them released, your mouth staggering, unable to even keep them shut as Abby stalks you, your body pressed against the kitchen counter, the new one she installed days ago. 

Nothing comes out on the way you intend it to. Fuck. Did you offend her? 

“I’m not?” 

She whispers into your ear, her lips ghosting your skin. A free hand plays with the buckle of your belt before she pulls you closer by the fastened leather. It’s soft to the touch, making her want to sink her teeth into you, until her canines break the surface of your skin, claiming you as hers once again. 

Abby thinks about removing it off you, bending you over the counter and punishing you for it or even fastening the belt around your neck, pulling you along until you’re right where she pleases. The craving in the pit of her belly only stirs into an unmanageable peace the longer you stand there — squirming with satisfaction — waiting to be put out of your misery. 

Golden locks tickle your jaw, the static energy radiating off of her shocks your skin, goosebumps come alive on every inch of you as she makes her presence known. One fact you haven’t been able to shake, Abby Anderson is a force to be reckoned with. Ten years, ten full years, and your life means nothing now that she’s right in front of you. 

“Abigail, I don’t really think this is a good idea.” Abby waits for you to push her away, but instead you place your hands around her forearms but she’s so big, and it’s intoxicating that she stands taller than you. Her biceps the size of your head, veins protruding as she flexes, as if it didn’t make matters worse. 

“Then why don’t you just admit it?” Abby presses her pelvis even closer to yours and you wonder if you’re hallucinating the barely-there kiss to below your ear. “You want me just as much as you did back then. Ten years apart won’t change that. You still care about me, even though you wish you didn’t, you do.” 

“Abigail, we can’t go there, we both are—” 

“What? I’ve always been a patient girl. I can wait.” Loudly, you groan as she peppers kisses down your neck, before scratching at her skin, when she kisses the one spot behind your ear she certainly didn’t forget about. 

Abby digs her teeth in as you hiss, she enjoys the thrill of your soft whimpers, she’s barely started and you’re giving her just what she needs. The two of you know it, there isn’t a fix for this, the thread of a craving pulls until it’s fed. 

“Oh–” 

Rough hands hoist you on the counter top as she slots herself between your thighs, her frame protecting you as if you were a wild animal trying to be saved from extinction. The greed in Abby’s palm finds salvation when she touches exposed skin, silk to the touch — it doesn’t feel quite as sinful as she’s been told. 

She should hate you, right? 

You hurt her, didn’t look back twice, and you’ve never been the same. 

All of this is just a facade. The life you have, the future you always dreamed of building is thousands of miles from here and she just doesn’t fit within it anymore, everyone tells her she never did. A missing puzzle piece with a jagged edge, the more Abby tries to fit with your world, the further she pushes away. 

But she held onto the hope that your world no longer fit you and maybe — like a fool who believes in their first dream — she could be your world again. 

Sparkling, honey-blues dazzle their way into your heart once again, reminding you of everything you love, striking a reminder through your soul of just what you had hurt. The life you stole, the one you wanted to so desperately have but fear still swarms you. The memory doesn’t feel so distant, the past isn’t the past but lies as a reminder of the blood still staining your hands. 

With hesitance, you hold her full-freckled cheeks in your palms with a delicate hand, fearful any touch from you would burn her in the process. 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” You bite into the isolating air, threatening to swarm your soul but she finds you first. Abby’s warm breath feeds into the need blossoming like a seed rooted in soil, solidifying the growth of budding salvation. 

“I don’t know. Do you?” 

She’s so sweet on you, even as the trickle of poison burns her, Abby would gladly let it absorb every inch of her skin if it meant this. The wondrous arrival of a love once lost, her heart torn right down the middle. Unsure if giving into reason or a festered dream. 

It all grabs a hold of her the same, unwillingly to release her from the pure agony she feels when you’re not around. More dramatic than she intended it to be, the dagger once pushed through her heart, exerting every drop of blood until she felt unsatisfied iron saturating her tongue. 

She would even show gratitude if you let her. 

“Everything I think I know changes when you’re involved, so no, I don’t.” 

Leaning into your touch, Abby swears into the palm of your hand, her hands smooth over the fabric of your pants and your entire skin leaves a trail of fire anywhere her large, calloused hand scorns you. The weight of her love feels heavy, as it always has, but the temptation to carry every ounce of it is heavier than it’s been in years. 

With a terror in your chest, you blurt out the first thought entering you mind.  “You’ve aged really well, can barely tell you’re hitting thirty.” 

“Oh yeah? I can think of a few ways to show you.” 

Shit. 

A rapid heartbeat ready to burst, you’re not sure if it’s you or her. She’s inching closer, lips ghosting yours, her minty-ice breath makes home over yours. With a slight graze, you inhale a sharp breath, read for her to lean into you. 

Slam! 

“Am I interrupting something?” Immediately, you push Abby off of you, a judging pair of eyes scanning the two of you. 

The woman from the party looked like she could actually kill you with her bare hands. Then there’s Ellie sitting there grinning like the joker, one giggle away from sounding like the maniac himself. As if she was fully aware this would happen. The two of you are running off of pure animal instinct, unable to keep your hands off one another. 

“Abby? What’s going on?” The snip in the woman’s voice is evident, so is the possession she so clearly feels over your ex-girlfriend. The jealousy you feel over the thought sends an unwanted shiver up your spine. 

Then she’s looking at you, expecting you to disintegrate into nothing right in front of her. Like you had done something terribly wrong. 

Didn’t Abby say she’s single? 

“Chill out, Hazel.” Ellie rolls her eyes, smirking at the steam practically boiling out of Hazel’s ears. “Ready for that drink? Dina and Jesse are already waiting.” 

“Uh—” She looks back at you, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “Yeah, can you just give me a sec?” 

“But I really think we should—” 

“Down Hazel, god, you’re worse than a dog. They clearly were about to suck each other’s faces off. Move it.” 

Hazel clearly looks offended as she desperately looks at Abby, hoping for her to save a little bit of dignity but Abby just punches the bridge of her nose as Ellie escorts out an extremely frigid Hazel. 

Abby doesn’t miss the way the woman who has far too big of a crush on her tries to shoot daggers into you but you’re too busy focused on plucking your overgrown cuticles. 

As soon as the door shuts you bend over the counter, forehead pressed into the white marble of the island, settling for a frustrated groan even when you want to scream. 

“That bad, huh?” Abby stands behind you, watching as you lose it in front of her. 

“Your friends already hate me, was that really fucking needed?” 

There’s an itching, envious need to ask why Hazel seems to be protective over Abby, borderlining on obsession, but you keep your mouth tight lipped. Even if it’s the first thing ready to roll off your tongue. 

“They’re fine, Hazel is just—” 

“Protective.” You avoid her as she smirks, clearly enjoying the clear look of jealousy in your beautifully bright eyes. 

“Oh?” Abby is grinning, pearly whites shining as majestic as the moon. “I didn’t think you’d even feel like that about me.” 

As if it's instinct, she can’t stop how much she’s loving this. One moment of her lips on your skin and suddenly you want her all to yourself. Your head is spinning and her stupid, blue eyes won’t stop looking at you like a divine treasure. 

“I-I don’t know what to say.” 

You never did well with things out of your control, never really could. It’s why all of it ended the way it did. If you couldn’t somehow manipulate into what you wanted, it faded until you couldn’t hear it any longer. Abby faded into the noise, into your past, but maybe she is the noise and for the first time in ten years you can finally hear. 

“You don’t have to say anything but you can come with me.” 

“With your friends?” Abby nods. 

“All of your friends hate me and one looks like she might actually kill me. Why on earth would you think that’s a good idea?” 

“All of them are adults. They’ll handle just fine besides,  I want you there.” As soon as Abby says those words, your harsh seamer softens, rejection melts and dissipates from your vocabulary. She’s always been a difficult person to say no to. “You could use some social interaction, you don’t even leave this guest house.” 

“How did you know that?” 

“I have eyes?” Abby states it as more of a question, a giggle threatening to bubble out. 

“Oh god.” Abby laughs as she takes off her tool belt before finding her jacket and slipping it on her body. Grabbing her keys on the counter, looping the carabiner on the loop of her weathered denim. 

“Ready?”  

There’s a look of uncertainty in your eyes, nearly bleeding into an unwillingness to bend, but her words reassure you before you even get a chance to explain. As if she settled in your heart ten years ago and never left. 

“Don’t worry, okay? If anyone’s mean to you, I’ll set them straight, Cherry.” 

The nickname falls off her tongue, the sentiment hits you like a tsunami of emotion, bringing you back to every loving emotion she exposed to you for the first time. 

It shouldn’t cut you this deep but it will — she always will. 

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 ❞

March 26th, 2013 

“C’mon dance with me!” Abby screams over the loud music of the party. Fluorescent lights, a disco ball and tequila raged through her body, the alcohol pumping through her veins as she finally mustered the liquid courage to talk with the girl she’s been crushing on all sophomore year. 

Her friends had been teasing her all night about it, but when the girl looked at her in disgust, shoulder checking her into oblivion, she couldn't help but take it to heart. Her blue eyes swell with tears, a waterfall raging within her as she makes her way to the bathroom, puking out her dinner at her father’s house. 

So much for prom night, right? 

Making a beeline for the bathroom, with yet another rejection to check off the list, stupid fucking after party she lied to her dad about going to. It’s all so stupid, of course Lacey wouldn’t be into someone like her. No one likes her, no one ever will, she’s just the lame screw up in this town who can’t like boys, not when the rest of the girls in the wretched town do. 

Even if her dad tells her, it’s what makes her special — it’s a bunch of horse shit. 

So, in the home of the girl she confessed her undying love for, she pukes her guts out in the bathroom until there’s a knock at the door and a soft yet concerned shout that follows. “Hey, are you okay? Sounds a little rough in there!” 

“Shit,  yeah, just one second…” Abby collects herself taking off her jacket as she rolls up the sleeves, residue of what she chucked up on the cuff of her shirt. Quickly, she rinses off and roles the sleeves up. 

Well, it didn’t get any more embarrassing than this. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can get someone it’s really not a pro—” 

Without a further beat, the door is swung open. Abby suspects to see someone she knows, but she doesn’t. It’s a fresh face and she’s never been more grateful. The eyeliner she thought Lacey would like was probably smudged all over her face, Abby had no doubt she probably resembled someone operating an oil rig of some kind. 

Just as Abby tries to talk, she feels another round come up and she runs to the toilet, sinking to her knees as more bile comes out. Way to go Anderson, you’ve managed to utterly humiliate yourself in front of two beautiful women tonight. Truly, there should be some type of an award for being the dumbest idiot on the planet. 

Somehow, she knows all of this will come back to bite her in the ass. There’s no way that she isn't the complete laughing stock of the high school until she walks across the stage in two years with a diploma on hand. Whoever you are, you’re sure you’ll tell the entire town. 

A stupid pathetic lesbian who can’t have one good night to save her life. 

One of the most important nights of her life. 

But she doesn’t hear a mockery laugh, a snide comment…she isn't even met with pure disgust. The third and fatal option. There’s a comforting hand on her back, reassuring her everything will be just fine, the other holding her hair into  a makeshift ponytail, ensuring there isn't a single strand getting tied into the mess of her sickness. 

By the time Abby’s done, she feels even more humiliated, her body running hot, cheeks aflame but you’re already running warm water underneath the towel folded on the shelf above the toilet. Kneeling down again, you angle her by the jaw, wiping the residue off her lips and you carefully wash away the black eyeliner smeared all over her freckled-cheeks. 

For a second, Abby notices you staring at her pouty lips but she doesn’t say a word about it. 

Turned out so wonderful the first time…

“Here!” You pull from your pocket, a pack of red labeled gun, cherry flavored, and pull out one piece wrapped in paper-tin foil. “For your, you know, breath.” 

“Is this your nice way of telling me I have bad breath?” Abby teases, one moment with a pretty stranger, and she already felt more like herself. Abby takes a piece of gum, unraveling the piece before shoving the strip into her mouth. 

“Well, you did puke.” 

Regretfully she chews as the taste turns sweet instead of mint, her face contorts in rejection but still she chews. It’s not exactly what she had in mind. 

“You don’t like Cherry flavored? That’s just bad taste!” You grab a piece of gum for yourself, throwing the piece of paper in the trash, consuming it wholeheartedly, almost moaning as you put on a show. 

“Whatever you say, Cherry.” The sun might as well be shining on you from just how warm you feel. Heat rising in your heart, blossoming through your chest, thriving from the attention of the sun, 

“Hey! That’s not fair. I don’t know your name.” 

“Well, I don’t know yours either…” Abby hints, tilting her head to the side with a smirk the size of Texas. For once, she finds this easy, talking to a pretty girl, flirting with a pretty girl — proving it didn’t always have to be so hard to have something this good. 

“Call me Cherry, it’s better than my real one, trust me.” You smile sweetly, fully willing to rot each tooth if it means you could feel like this. “What’s yours?” 

“Abigail.” 

The two of you just stare at each other like idiots, two losers, two outcasts and all of it started to make sense. Every heartache dealt out by careless handlers of the heart, each person who made you feel small, unworthy, who knew all of it could be healed by looking into the brightest pair of blue eyes, the warmest, full of honey and marvelous wonder. 

It feels wonderful, being this close to a feeling, a lover's dream in the sunshine of spring, kissing shoulders never exposed to the brightful joy, freckles sprouting like bees flees to honey. One more kiss of sunshine until the sweetness falls on your tongue, guiding you to the spirit of love and everything you ever lost. 

One person, one perfect person who makes your youth scream of joy again. Jumping off a cliff, plummeting into the cool ocean without second thought, hoping they’ll be there to jump off it with you. Even if it takes a lifetime of waiting — you’d wait your entire life for her. 

As long as she’s in the sun, freckles being painted by pure light, you’d soak in the sun right along with her. 

“Thank you.” She squeaks out the words so small, you nearly miss it. 

“There’s no need for thanking. Just doing the right thing s’all.” Your smile is so sweet, Abby nearly feels every part of her body rotting with sugar. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“There was just this girl and I really thought she liked me but she really didn’t and I have this thing where I get a lot of anxiety or nervous I kind of just puke. It’s totally lame, god, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” 

“Me too. High school sucks.” You agree with her, offering a small smile as you finish cleaning her up. “But she’s totally lame for not seeing how great you are.” 

Abby tries not to blush, but she can’t hit the crimson swell painting the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “Did you try to kiss her or something?” 

“I didn’t really get that far, she wouldn’t even dance with me. Not here, not prom, guess I’m not cool enough for her.” Pushing the metal frame of her glasses up her nose, trying to stop herself from biting into her blunt nails, nearly drawing blood. Now that she’s come down from her puking fest, she sees how beautiful you are. The kind of beauty that would bring her to her knees if Abby wasn’t already there. 

“Cool is overrated. Who cares about being cool? We’re all losers trying to figure it out.” You say it as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, as if you’re confident in exactly who you want to be. Abby is envious of it. She wonders what it’s like to be so free — to not wonder what everyone is constantly thinking about you — if you’re good enough. 

You don’t seem to care. 

“If you still wanna dance, I’d dance with you. We can be losers together.” You offer up to her as you stand to your feet, offering a hand up to her and she takes it willingly. You grab the jacket to her suit, helping her slip into it and she smoothes the jacket over her frame. 

“You really don’t have to—” But you look at her with the most absurd gaze of refusal, eyebrows furrowed as it makes this cute little line between them.  Abby can’t help but admire it. 

“Oh, we’re going to fucking dance and show whoever this bitch is just what she’s missing.” 

Present day. 

There’s a lot to be said for how you let yourself succumb to her again, it didn’t take much, just a batting of blonde eyelashes and irresistible pouty lips and you’d fallen victim to Abigail Anderson. The hardest thing you’ve ever done was leave her. All these years later, you’re right back to where you were before all of this had started. 

It seems to shock all of her friends when the two of you walk on together and even more shocking when Abby throws her arm behind you, engaging in conversation here and there. Mostly, you tune out the conversation and mindlessly sip on the beer in front of you. 

Hazel isn’t happy about the predicament, cold brown eyes sport a simmering guidance of rage as she watches Abby’s fingers on your shoulder tracing random patterns into your skin. The arrival of your presence in turn makes her take jabs at you all night. Even with your silence, it doesn’t stop her, and when you have no visceral reaction she finally goes for something that brings silence around the entire table. 

“Why are you even here? Breaking Abby’s heart wasn’t enough the first time? Why don’t you run back to your sick mother and stop playing with people just because it’s fun for you.” Hazel bites and you feel the swarm of your tears begin to build and she keeps going, “Isn’t that why you came back? Not because you actually care but because your mom is going to die.” 

“Sorry, excuse me—” Hazel scoffs as you slither away and head towards the bathroom. As if she’s accomplished, she sips on her margarita, like what she just did was a service to everyone here. 

Ellie and Dina sit there in shock, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Jesse sits there silently, discomfort written all over his face. But Abby? She’s filled with a soaring hot rage, face flushed violet as her knuckles turn white. Hazel immediately shrinks into the booth, unprepared for what’s about to happen. 

She thought Abby would be happy, kicking someone who so wrongly hurt her to the curb. You didn’t deserve her. You never would. Hazel deserves you. She’s been here, waiting for Abby to see her and love her, not you. 

“What the fuck is your problem? Cherry wasn’t even doing a goddamn thing and you’ve been attacking them all damn night.” Abby’s rage is palpable, steaming to the touch, and nothing like any of them have ever seen. 

“I did this for you! She treated you horribly! She broke your heart! She deserves it.” 

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, tossing her head against the wall, “This has got to fucking stop. Cherry broke up with me goddamn ten years ago and it’s none of your business.” Hazel could practically see the steam rolling off her before Abby raised her voice even more, “You didn’t have a right to bring up her mom regardless of whatever happened. Jesus, if I want to be around her or want Cherry around, everyone here is just going to have to fucking deal.” 

“Abby, we’re just trying to look out for you. Cherry only ever thinks about herself.” 

“Well fucking don’t. I can handle myself despite whatever you think I can deal with. Stay the fuck away from her or you’ll live to regret it.” 

Throwing a twenty on the table to cover her tab, she finds you washing your face, trying to get rid of the puffiness in your eyes. When you see her, you turn her away, a lame attempt to stop her from seeing you like this. 

Weak. Overbearing. A winded rush pressing on your lungs, struggling to breathe — you didn’t need any of this. Not to be back right where it all destroyed you. Then here she is, the living reminder of your transgressions, your failure, the one thing you couldn’t fix. 

All roads lead to her. All of it is sick and twisted. The look of love pierces through your soul, scouring through the place you keep hidden under lock and key; the part that still loves her. 

It demands attention. To be heard. To be seen. To violate you and your dreams, to place her before everything else. A violent reminder of how all of this started. Before you could catch up with the tide, everything flips, your entire life becomes a reflection of what you feared. 

Abby has her life together and yours is coming apart. 

Everyone hates you for what you become. For how little you cared about leaving the first twenty years of your life behind, a chapter closed and discarded as if it never existed to you in the first place. 

“Let me take you home, alright? I’m sorry for Hazel she’s—” 

“It’s fine.” You cut her off, drying your eyes, or trying to but you can’t stop crying in the first place. “It was stupid of me to agree to this.” 

“You aren’t stupid, sorry, she was being a cunt. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen.” 

Abby carefully wipes your tears away, “Hey, let’s get out of here. Yeah? My place is just up the street. Just the two of us.” 

You nod as Abby leads you out, her palm feels welcoming in your grip, a homecoming you have been dying to feel. Her touch feels warm, perfect as her fingers interlock with your own. Like no time has passed, it’s easy for you to slip back into her grasp. 

Everything about her feels right. When she helps you get in her truck, the old one her father always wanted to renovate and it seems she did just that. The ride is only a couple minutes before she’s parking in the garage of her home. She opens the door for you, a hand on your back as she leads you towards the door leading into her house. 

What you expect to be a farmhouse, a hint of southern barn meets boho chic, but you’re met with something else entirely. 

It’s exactly what she talked about building growing up. Everything else feels modern except the cherry red kitchen with white accents and marble countertops. There’s cherries everywhere, but it’s subtle enough to the naked eye, you wouldn’t blink twice.

The memory comes back to you in a hot flash, one you weren’t fond of. 

“We can have it all. I’ll buy you a damn house, I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need, I want this, Cherry. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I love you, please, can’t you see a future with both of us?” 

“But I don’t want to be here. You know that! My dad can hardly look at me because I’m with a woman, my mom tries but she doesn’t understand. Is this the kind of life you want? They remind me that I’m not good enough. Who I love isn’t good enough, not if I’m not with a man. Can you understand I’m dying to get out of this nothin’ town?” 

Abby gnaws at her bottom lip, teeth drawing blood as she sees you drawing within yourself. Pulling back at the first sign of hardship. Even Abby wonders if she’s worth fighting for. 

“You mean dying to get away from me? I’m in this nothin’ town you despise so much.” 

“Abigail, you’re taking words out of my mouth, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

“You just want to leave and I don’t.” You look at her, her adorable pout in a frown, arms she’s been bulking for the past couple years begin to show definition. The freckles she hates grew more prominent on her skin as she spent the summer working for father’s construction company. 

Her life is here, her future is here, but for once since the two of you met, your own two different paths and no matter how much you love her — it just won’t work. 

“We’re eighteen! Our entire lives are in front of us. I can’t stay here, Abigail. I just can’t. I dream of a big city, somewhere my stories will take me places, a life that I can’t find here.” 

“You got the scholarship, didn’t you?” Abby barks, her chest puffing out, jaw clenching as she pleads for you to tell her the truth. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been lying to me, hoping I’d change my mind?” 

“I wasn’t lying. I just—” 

“What? You were just going to leave one morning and never come back? Like I mean nothing to you?” Abby removes her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Like the past two years have just been what? A way for you to pass time until your real life comes along. Fucking great.” 

“I told you from the start, I want more. I need to do more! No one gets into NYU around here and certainly not on a scholarship. I have a chance for a real future, a way out from my parents, a new life, I’ve always wanted this. You know I have.” 

“And I’ve always wanted you.” 

Silence engulfs the room, a pindrop could be heard, the tension could be cut with a knife but Abby sees the wall closing around you. Covering her from the heart you slowly opened up to her, what she fought tooth and nail for. She always fought for you but it’s hard to do anything when you don’t believe this is worth saving. 

“You don’t even have the decency to ask me.” 

“What?” 

“You just want to write me off. You lump me with everyone else because you don’t even give me the chance.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Abby’s blue eyes turn into ice, all the warmth void as the chill sends a shiver down your spine. Her throat feels tight, like even if she swallows her own spit she’ll choke. 

“Do you love me enough to make this work?” Abby flinches when you don’t immediately answer, because she knows where she stands, she would follow you across the world if it meant that’s what you wanted. To make you happy. But she can’t help but feel like she’s splitting herself apart for someone who doesn’t care in the way she does. 

With tears in your eyes, they cascade down your cheek before whispering to her, “I don’t.” 

“Get. Out.” She murmurs through clenched teeth, using the sleeve of her t-shirt, one you gifted her, to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. The overflow of the heartache racked through her body like she’s never felt before. 

You don’t love her. You don’t love her. You never loved her. 

“Abs, please, don’t make me leave like this. Can we talk about this?” 

“What’s there to fucking talk about? We don’t love me, Cherry. What else is there to fucking say?” 

You nearly scream, not sure why anything you’re saying isn’t coming out the way you intended it to. “You’re not listening to me I—” 

“Right. You just need to find a man, right? God, you’re just like Lacey.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You bite, and if looks could kill, Abby would be dead right now. She’s struck a nerve, the memory of sophomore year comes flooding back to her, back when all of this started. “God, fuck you. How could you possible compare me to the straight girl that pulled you along because what she really wanted was Daniel Collins to fuck her so stupid she ended up pregnant junior year.” 

“You’re leaving, when your back is pressed up against a wall, you’ll always leave, Cherry.” 

“But I—” You stop yourself before you could speak the forbidden words, the ones you’ve said to her a million times, the one you just refuted that you did even if she can usually call you right on your bullshit. But you’ve diluted her sense of reasoning and all she hears is her girlfriend of two years just told her she doesn't love her. 

“You what? What other lies are you going to tell me?” 

“Fine.” Your expression turns stone cold, “Let’s both be done with it then. There’s nothing left to fight for.”  

Prideful ego gets in the way of what Abby wants and she finally lets her head speak for her, “Sounds good to me.” 

“Are you alright?” Abby asks but then she notices you’re just staring at her kitchen and she’s never been so self-conscious in her life. She didn’t even think about it, she’s so used to others seeing it but it’s different when your muse is taking in the craft you created with them in mind. 

“Oh, right, the cherries.” She stutters out, scratching the back of her neck as she turns the lights on. It smells of vanilla and something oak, just like she smelled in high school. To others it may seem boring but it’s refreshing to know she’s still the same as she was. 

“You still did it?” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda lame honestly, maybe I should have done something else but nothing ever fit right with the rest of the house so.” Abby pops open a beer, somehow needing to have some type of liquor while you gawk at the work she created with you in mind. “If I’m being honest, I think it was just a way for me to hold onto you. I sure didn’t think I would ever see you again.” 

“Me neither.” You answered truthfully, the loss of Abby rattled you, even though you were better at hiding it. Losing her is still the most painful loss you had to endure, which she considers fortunate, but not fortunate enough. “I always thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t been so headstrong. I think I had to convince myself in order to leave, I would have stayed here for you if not.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Even if she pretends not to be, Abby’s still bitter. 

“Why?” 

“You always knew what you wanted out of life and that wasn’t me.” Abby chews on her bottom lip again, picking the label of the beer before taking another swig. “Hell, you left before I even got a chance to say goodbye.” 

“What?” Eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you take a step forward, “Did you come to the house?” 

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave things like that. Did you not—” 

“No, I didn’t know, I thought that was it. I didn’t expect there to be more for my sake.” 

The way she looks at you feels like she’s peering into her soul, the way she sees you so clearly, better than anyone ever has, chilling you to your core. Bits and pieces of your love located in eyes that glimmer only for her, light electrified the moment your sights are set on her. 

It feels like falling in love with a broken melody. 

You admire the imperfections instead of leaving at the bridge. 

“I waited on your porch for hours but then your parents came home, saying they just had gotten back from dropping you off.” 

In a matter of moments, your entire world feels flipped, like everything you had known for the last ten years, a terrible lie you wished to never know. A nightmare you would hope to wake up from. That’s all this was, you would wake up in her father’s home as you fought in the kitchen, you convince yourself not to let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

“You came back for me?” 

Closing the space between the two of you, grabbing her beer and placing it on the countertop. Abby takes an intake of breath as you invade every part of her personal space. As corny as it sounds, you do smell of cherries. So sweet, her bones feel weak with need, as if she doesn’t inhale the sugar she’ll just crumble at your feet, begging for just one drop. 

“Yeah, I cried in front of your dad who hated me at the time, might I add. After that, he was kind, I think because he saw how much I…you know…” 

You remember how much he changed when you came home for the holidays three years later. Naturally, you always accepted he had just come around over time, but it wasn’t that at all — the weeps of your high school girlfriend convinced him. 

“Guess he saw how much I loved you or something…I don’t know…” She shrugs like it’s nothing. 

Like she's nothing; the careless lie you let her believe. 

Even with her dominating physical presence, she’s always been shy about this sort of thing. Expressing her feelings never really came easy, even if she wore them with her heart on her sleeve, admitting them was different than feeling them. 

“You changed his mind.” 

“He would have gotten there eventually. I’m sure he liked whoever you dated after me.” 

“Hm.” You grimly laugh, “He didn’t. Not the two I brought home but he always spoke fondly of you, he definitely likes you better then he enjoys his own kid.” 

Patient she is watching you process the information, it’s almost too much for her to swallow. What if you had been home when she was going to say goodbye? Would this be your home with her? The dreams of kissing her in the kitchen, cherry inspired, the family home she always wanted to build for the two of you. Now she’s here with no one but herself. Withering away the soul of a woman who only wanted love. 

“He loves you and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss. Trust me, I know it too well.” 

The confession hangs on the walls like a memorial, taking a trip down memory lane, or more like the hell of your own making. Demons you conjured cast over your past as if they only exist in hollow halls. The deeper you go, the more your heart slivers in the cracks of her delicate grip. For the first time, you don’t mind when she presses on your heartbeat — demanding more with just looking at you the way she does. 

The way she always has. 

“Do you still love me?” 

“Are you going to run away if I tell you?” 

Lips ghost over you, her breath hits your face, making it flush with heat. She leans against the counter, wrapping your back with one of her arms, tugging you close to her. 

“Abby, I’m a mess.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t know what my family is going to look like or my future.” 

“I know.” 

“Abigail, would you stop saying that?” 

“I’ve only ever cared about you, I don’t care if your life is together. I’m here and I—” She dips her head to kiss down your neck, decorating your collarbones with her lips as she creates a map back to where she wants to the most, “will take care of you.” 

Abby kisses you like the air in her lungs is expendable, as she has endless amounts to give. That’s all she is love, pouring into every ounce of you that she can find. With desperate abandon, she wants to wipe your memory of every wrong she ever did you — she only wants to remind you of the reason why she loves you. Maybe it’ll be enough for you to wake up in her arms again. 

For once, she might be enough. 

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t know what it all means and—” 

“Right now? I don’t fucking care.” Abby leeches off your neck, kissing and delicately sucking, grazing her sharp teeth against sensitive skin. “I just want you.” 

Thoughtless abandon goes out the window as she guides you back into her apartment, off the spacious balcony and corners you into her room. Letting you fall on her bed as she stands above you, as she strips in front of you. Making a show of it, torturing you for sport, before she goes in for the kill. 

The alcohol still alive in your mind as she pulls off, a freckled maze maps its way all over her body. The subtle blonde happy trails travels underneath her navel and disappears beneath the fabric of her denim jeans. Your own self-control begins to slip, but Abby is too concerned with evening out the playing field. Even if this is a long-lasting goodbye, she’s going to make it last. 

Slipping your trousers down your legs, she’s met with cotton boxers — soaked all the way through. 

“Is that all for me?” Abby snaps the waistband against your skin as you squirm underneath your touch, bucking your hips into the air. Impossibly desperate for her touch. 

“Y-Yes, It’s for—” Irrevocably your eyes roll back into your skull, “Abigail, oh shit, shit, shitttt.”  

Sneaking a hand in your boxers, she opens up your inviting folds, slippery and as Abby glides along, collecting your slick with the calloused fingers. You squirm and shift, bucking into her hand, waiting for more to be given to you. 

“Just say my name like that pretty girl, so good for me, aren’t you?” Abby removes her hand as she pulls your boxers off your legs and without being asked she slides them down your legs as she pushes your shirt up to your tits, exposing the swell of your breasts to her possessive eyes, waiting to lay claim onto what she’s missed for the past ten years. 

“I wonder if you’re just as…” Abby takes a beat before rubbing over your hard nipple along her tongue, her denim-glad thigh grinding against your thigh as she suckles at your breasts. “Sensitive.” 

She moans into your skin, using her free hand to play with your pussy, soft strokes to your clit as she elicits more moans from you. The force of her strength and weight keeps you down, the stutter of your hips chasing her fingers. 

“My pretty baby, not so mean and bossy anymore, huh?” She bites your nipple gently before whispering in your ear, “Did you miss me that much?” 

“I just want more, please.” 

In any other circumstance, she happily would make you pay for it. Wait even, but if she doesn’t have you in her mouth for another second, she won’t survive. You’re so beautiful, you’re perfect in every conceivable way. The years had in fact been kind to you, different from what she knew when the two of you had sex but god, she thinks you’re even more exquisite now. 

“More?” Abby removes what remains of her clothing, leaving you to gawk at her muscled frame, small tits frame her chest perfectly. “How about you sit on my face, angel? How does that sound?” 

She’s already made you come twice, just on her tongue alone, pushing for a third as she holds you by the waist, waiting for your overstimulated body to give into her once more. 

Abby makes everyone look inadequate when it comes to her, no one could touch you like this, fuck you like this, slither their talent tongue inside your waiting hold as you take her out for a ride. Muffled moans against your dripping cunt sends shivers throughout your spine, body twitching as you feel yourself hurling closer to the edge. 

You can’t help but ride her face as your head lies on the bundle of curves covering her mound and you’ve been too fucked out the entire time to do anything but you can’t help but notice the way her patient cunt is shining with her slick. Curiosity blooms within you as you notice the slight thrust of her hips, chasing a part of you that isn’t there. 

With no sudden warning, you vigorously rub on her wet folds, applying pressure on her bundle of nerves as you spread her sweet juices along her puffed lips. 

“Baby, nghhh, oh my god.” Abby slurps as she sucks your clit into her mouth before you fall right over the edge again. Her eager tongue fucks your through it with her tongue, letting your ride the high as your nails scratch her stomach, marking her as yours once again. 

Abby helps your weak body slide down her legs, flipping you over as your pussy falls against her, her legs spread open as your head rests against her sternum, feeling the increased rate of her heart beat thump against her chest. 

She smooths her hand over your hair, gorgeous hypnotic eyes pull at Abby’s heart. “We should get some sleep.” 

“We can…unless you want to entertain a thought I’m having.” Abby raises her eyebrow as rotate your hips, clit bumping against hers as she throws her head back, a string of curses fall from her lips as she grips onto your hips. Happily, she lets you take control, pushing her strong leg over your shoulder as you glide against her soaked pussy. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, holy fucking shit—” 

Perfect tits bouncing as you rock your hips against her movement, the more you look in her eyes, you feel yourself yearning for another release. It’s never been this good, never with anyone. The moans she whispers, kept in the secret coven of your love, the spells she casts to keep you near — it trumps anything you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep looking at me, Abigail.” The whine of her full name, only ever falling from your lips, the most wonderful symphony. It’s intoxicating how much she loves it. How much she loves you. Deep in her bones, even if she tries her best to pull away, she knows not a damn thing will ever compare to this. For this life and the next, she’ll be searching for you in everyone she meets. 

She can’t live another moment with you. Not after ten years of agony, fuck no, she needs you like she needs oxygen to breathe. You’re not sure how long it takes, but you don’t forget how Abby looks at you with a tender heart that basically pours out of her. 

“Baby, please. N-N-gh, I need you.” You push her forward, hitting a deeper angle than you were before until you hear just how wet she is with your forehead pressed against hers, “Show me how my pretty girl comes, yeah? Need a reminder, princess.” 

Abby moans out your name, her body fucking up into you, slithering her convulsing cunt against your clit as her defined abdomen twitches and only relaxes when you follow her lead, you body collapsing on her. Two hearts beats become one as the two of you fall asleep, a quiet whisper of I love you, but you’re not sure if it falls from your lips or hers. 

The morning air breathes lilies and fresh espresso, her sweet cinnamon cologne lingers in her sheets, where she held you all night with her heavenly embrace. Reality sinks in and then you’re afraid once again. You slip one of her button up shirts on, pulling on a pair of her sweats before your feet are met with the cool wooden floors. 

She’s sitting there, those stupid glasses she apparently didn’t get rid of. Making her look stupid cute as she read the velvet-green covered book in her large palms. 

It’s easy for her to tell how you feel, Abby knows you too well as she watches you with cautious eyes. You’re so afraid of it all. Always, you’ve been afraid of what she makes you feel, how close she pushes you to the edge of no return. A love you feel helpless to, especially when it eats you from the inside out. 

“Do you wanna leave? I can take you home.” Abby doesn’t even look up from her book, she sounds annoyed, completely different than her vulnerable demeanor last night. It puzzles you when she closes herself off. 

“Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?” 

Abby folds her book, marking the page on the sharp corner before she takes off her glasses. “You don’t owe me anything if that’s what you’re worried about. You felt like you didn’t before. You in all your city glory.” 

Something happened. 

“Abby, what’s going on?” 

“You tell me.” She places your phone on the table and it’s the email detailing of your new book tour in Europe. One that lasts the better part of the year. 

“You snooped through my phone?” 

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it was mine, okay? I would never do that.” Abby sighs, “I really didn’t mean to fucking look. I just, it’s happening all over again, I’m losing you over something. I’m never what you pick and I can’t ever be enough for you. Even Hazel was right! All you do is hurt me and it’s my fault because I let you. I can’t keep chasing you. It’s a stupid dream I’m too dumb enough to let go of.” 

“So, that’s it? Last night was just what? A mistake?” 

“I didn’t say that—” 

“But you did! Fuck, I should have known things wouldn’t change.” 

“You should have known? This is the same reason why you left me. I’ll lose you, again, to something I can’t compete with. The both of us know it to be true. At least have the decency to admit it.” 

“Do you want me to apologize? I did what I wanted! I have everything I wanted. This is everything I’ve worked towards for the best ten years—” 

“But you don’t—” Abby puffs out her chest, standing taller than she has since you’ve been back. The words spill just like you did the night before, “You didn’t get everything, you made sure of it the moment you left me behind.” 

Abby has backed you into a corner, stalking you like you’re her prey but this isn’t how she wants everything to be. Looking into your dreary eyes, she’s transported back to when you shattered her heart, splitting into pieces that no longer fit. The harder she tries to piece them back, the more jagged she becomes. 

“I don’t want this. I’ve let go of it.” 

I let go of you, sounds entirely too painful to say. 

“That’s your plan? To pretend none of this has happened?” Abby’s tongue prods the inside of her cheek, a cocky smirk flashes your way. “Look at how well it turned out the first time.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your arms cross over your chest, attempting to create some distance between the two of you, but Abby only closes you in. 

“Why do you still wear it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Abby reaches for your hand, you untangle your limbs, the pad of her thumb loving running over the silky skin. Her calloused hand feels rough, just as it always has, but it also feels right. 

The silver ring on your pinky, the one you lost and the one your father had conveniently found. But it was never him who located your perfect gem, nope. Not at all. Just Abby’s biggest fan, besides Hazel. 

The reminder of her leaves a sour taste saturating your tongue, but you have no right. It's her friend, and just because you’re not fond of her, doesn’t mean a thing. You’re just a ghost still lingering in her life. Even if she answers there’s nothing, Hazel looks at her like you used to. When the same protectiveness switched into high gear last night, she only thought of how much you would do the exact same thing Hazel did if the roles were reversed. 

Just maybe, not as cruel. 

Abby takes the ring off your thumb, it shines in the dim lighting in the room.

“The day I fell in love with you, three months into our relationship, I gave it to you. Do you remember what I said?” 

Simply, you nod. 

“Wear this for as long as you love me and when you’ve taken it off, I’ll know we’re truly done.” Abby hums, your eyes shut as her thigh wedges between your legs but it only rests there. “But I hope you wear it forever.” 

“Then let go of me, give it back, throw it away, but stop acting like you might still feel the same. I’m tired of being played. You know how much this ring means to me. Don’t leave me, again.” 

It’s a cop out for what she really wants to say, the both of you know it is, but you have the decency to let it swarm past without making a single comment. 

She’s begging for mercy. She’s tired. The lines on her skin are an indication of the hours she spends in the sun and the time passing by, engaging you in a never-ending tsunami of Abigail Anderson’s love. 

“Abigail—” You say her name like it’s a curse, a spell you keep casting to make her fall deeper in your endless abyss. “Just because it seems like a good idea doesn’t mean it’ll work out. What makes this time any different?” 

You slid away from her, needing to breathe, you can’t think when she’s too close. Serendipity finds home into honey blues, working its magic until she finds purchase in your heart once again. You’d let her get too close, more than you should let her allow. 

Abby, the heart. 

You, the head. 

The dreamer. The thinker. Forever intertwined by the deadly kiss of fate. 

“But if it did? What if we did?” 

Abby doesn’t want to beg, but she is. She learned her lesson the first time. She said nothing all those years ago, letting you take the relationship the two of you had by the reigns, your cruelty being the fatal blow to what the two of you had worked so hard to build. Naivety crushed the future right in front of her — the one she regularly dreams of. 

Each what if connected like constellations in the sky, each one just as bright as the next, Abby can’t make of which she wants. But Abby has always known it to be true, this has always been it for her but you’re so afraid. 

Still petrified to be loved. 

“I can’t let myself go through it again, if we didn’t? I can’t just—” You begin pacing, trying to get yourself into a position to clear your mind. The hope she has, it could kill you in your sleep. “I fucked up, okay? Last night shouldn’t have happened. I needed something and I used you. Is that what you want to hear? Will that satisfy you enough?” 

“I want the goddamn fucking truth, Cherry. Stop with the lies. Tell me you want this to end because you don’t love me anymore, or that you want to go on this book tour, not because you fucked up. I don’t care if you fucked me because you needed your clit sucked for the night. Tell me the truth, Cherry, please.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

Abby chuckles maliciously, “Why? You don’t like to remember when you were in love, the only time you ever were happy, the only time you ever let anyone get close to you?” 

She attempts to get closer to you but you dodge her and walk to the other side of the room. 

“You’re quite literally running away from me. Anything but facing the truth, right?” Abby sighs into her hands. The muscles in her body are exhausted, her heart is over spent, and her mind is filled with you. Even if she doesn’t want it to be. “Do you think I want this? To feel like this? To put my heart on the line when you clearly show that you’ll discard it every damn time? Do you think this is enjoyable for me?” 

“Then stop! I’m not asking you to, just let me leave, let me go.” 

“Let the ring go.” Somehow, in your heat of emotion, you grabbed it back from her and didn't realize it had been placed back on your thumb. “You know it was my mom’s, how could you so selfishly keep this?” 

“What?” 

Fuck. Abby runs her hands through her hair,  gripping so tightly her sunkissed knuckles turn white from nearly being pulled from the root. 

“But you said this was—” 

“I lied! I was eighteen and scared shitless, okay? I didn’t want you to—” 

“You didn't want me to….?” 

Abby sighs rubbing her hand over her face, a habit she seemed to pick up in your presence. “If I tell you, you’re just going to run.” 

You grimace, tearing up as you look at the ring, it means so much to her and all this time she was perfectly fine with thinking you got rid of it. Abby never so much as asked for it back. But everything feels more final with the ring in hand, the shining promise of something more. But the naivety of youth chilled her bones, made her believe that love like this comes and goes. It goes. And goes. And goes. 

It never comes. 

“Do you want it back?” You dodge whatever omission she was about to let fall. It’s what you do best. Avoiding the future — she’s always been ominous, constantly you’re scared to believe in the faith of her undying love. The forgiveness of her heart pours like an overflowing well. Abby teeters you along the line of grace you don’t quite deserve.   

“No.”  Abby sighs before she brings herself close to you. “I want you back, Cherry. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted as much as you. When you left, everyone told me it’s just because you're my first love. Time heals all, right? But it doesn’t. Despite your best efforts, I’ll always love you. You’re—” 

You take a step closer to her, “I’m what?”

“You’re the love of my life. If you walk at that door, it’ll take the rest of my life to fill the gap you leave. But if you don’t love me, then please, put me out of my misery and just leave.” 

Abby looks down at the wood floors, tears collecting in her eyes as she expects you to walk out the front door, leaving her in the dust. But the slam of her front door never comes, instead you sink down on your knees resting your head on her knee, waiting for her to look down at you. 

“What?” Abby grunts. 

“There was this cute, really nerdy blonde girl, she puked on prom night, crying over some straight girl and somehow I managed to fall in love with her despite all odds but you know what the real kicker is?” You intertwined her hands with her, your head tilting to the side as your dreamily looked into sunny-blues, sticking to you like honey,

“I never, ever stopped.”

[bakerswagon9]

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[4sh-n4]

When Dick was fired and he went to live in Bludhaven, he didn't tell anyone where he was staying. He wasn't in contact with Bruce and Alfred and resigned himself to the fact that they didn't care about him as anything more than Robin.

Then one day, he got a package in the mail. It was on the anniversary of his parents' death. There was no note, nothing, but the address was written in a familiar script, all neat and small. But Bruce had no idea where he was, and he wouldn't send him anything anyways because he didn't care, right?

But the packages kept coming, more frequently each time. They weren't anything special, small trinkets- gag mugs, superman merch, chocolates, a coat in the winter for when it got cold, a new shirt etc. There was never a note or any indication of who the presents were from other than that same writing that Dick had seen for years.

He ignored it, the gifts were probably for someone who knew the old owner of the flat or from someone else who knew Dick. Nevermind that they were all things picked out as if especially for him, all his favorites, things that basic acquaintances wouldn't know about him. Nevermind that no one knows his address but there's one man in Gotham with the resources to find out. Nevermind that there was no one that Dick knew enough in Gotham that they would send him things. Nevermind that some of the gifts hinted at Robin, at Nightwing. Because it simply wasn't possible for Bruce to be the one sending these gifts. That would mean he cared, and he didn't. And if Dick ran to the door every time the mail was delivered and if he carefully kept each present safe, then no one had to know.

After a few months, there was another delivery. It was out of schedule. Usually B̶r̶u̶c̶e̶ the anonymous gifter sent their packages at the end of each week. But this came in the middle of the week, and was in an envelope instead of the usual box.

Instead of the handwriting that Dick had begun to expect on each package, there was a different one. Still familiar- though Dick was more used to seeing it on grocery lists rather than important documents, post it notes, and more recently bludhaven addresses- but the letters were written in cursive, swooping and flowing on the envelope.

He opened it up to find a letter. It was crumpled and had then been smoothed out, as though it wasn't meant to be sent. There were areas on the page where drops of water ('or were they tears?' Dick couldn't help but wonder silently) had smudged the ink.

On the page was the script that he knew, different from the envelope. It was addressed to him, saying the words that he had been longing to hear for months. Telling him how much he was cared for, how he would always have a home in Gotham. Telling him how proud he was of him, how much his parents would love to see him right now. Begging him to come home.

And Dick could no longer deny who the packages were from. Who the letter was from. Could no longer pretend Bruce hated him. How could he, when evidence to the contrary was staring right at him? When Bruce had been thinking of him and sending him things he knew he loved for months?

Dick went home that very evening, to go visit his dad. Things weren't fixed, and Dick wasn't moving back (at least not right away), but there was hope. And both of them were the happiest they had been since their fight.

[joanquill]

Post Time Skip Relationship Headcanons with Sherlock

Headcanons of what your relationship with Sherlock will be like after the time skip.

Sherlock Holmes

Tag/s: Fem!Reader, Established Relationship, Headcanons, Long Warning/s: MANGA SPOILERS! The story takes place after the three-year time-skip (as stated above)

You and Sherlock were in a serious relationship for some time, and you knew him like the back of his hand.

You were his safe space and confidant, trusting you with his whole life and telling you everything.

So when the news broke out about the Lord of Crime, William James Moriarty, you knew Sherlock would be involved in the grand finale.

While everyone was outraged and cursed the Lord of Crime, you and Sherlock knew something was missing. One final clue.

You didn't know why, but you could tell Sherlock was getting more anxious with how tightly he held your hand during the investigation.

The whole time, you were by his side. But from the palace visit to William's letter, you knew Sherlock was hiding something from you.

Whenever Sherlock was deep in thought, he would grab your hand and turn to you, telling you how much you mean to him.

You tried to ask him why so suddenly, but he would just sadly smile and say he just wanted to let you know.

It all became apparent on the night of the Reichenbach Fall.

While others saw a hero sacrificing himself to defeat the villainous killer, you saw your lover and friend falling to their deaths.

John, Miss Hudson, and even Mycroft were consoling you, hoping to find comfort in each other.

But what shocked you was that sometime after the funeral, someone delivered you irises and lilies with a note, a message only you and Sherlock understood, with a promise of returning.

You ran up to 221B Baker Street, finding out Sherlock had also sent a letter to John indicating his survival.

You fell to your knees from shock and relief, releasing the tears and emotions you'd been holding back the whole time.

You continued to live on, patiently waiting for Sherlock and William with John, Miss Hudson, and Mycroft.

During anniversaries and your birthday, it was almost clockwork with the deliveries of gifts and flowers with small notes.

On the other hand, you would keep your gifts in a safe place to give to Sherlock when he returns, even though you were not sure when that would be.

Until one day, you found a familiar man with long hair standing and fidgeting on your porch with a bouquet and gift box.

Out of impulse, you called out Sherlock's name, making the man turn around and confirm it was Sherlock.

Your body moved on its own as you ran to him, hugging him tightly as if he would vanish if you let him go.

And from how his whole body wrapped around you, it seemed he felt the same way.

You lightly joked about his changes, from the long hair to the cleaner attire, saying how William must have been a good influence on him.

Sherlock smiled as he reassured you he was still him, and his feelings for you were unwavering.

He apologized for the sudden appearance and explained why, telling you William sent him on a mission and needed your help as he gave you a letter from William.

Seeing how dire the situation is, you agreed and followed their plan.

After stopping Sebastian Moran, you felt Sherlock reach for your hand, squeezing it tightly.

You smiled as you entangled your fingers with him, rubbing his knuckles reassuringly.

You and Sherlock rode a carriage back to 221B Baker Street, and Sherlock never let go of your hand.

You joked at how nervous he seemed, reassuring him they would be more than ecstatic to see him again.

Sherlock kept quiet the whole time as he suddenly asked how you felt about him, knowing how he made you wait and how much he changed.

Caught by surprise, you asked if that was why he was so nervous this whole time, and he confirmed your suspicions.

You breathed out a smile as you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, saying you still loved him after all this time, and even if he changed, that just meant you would get to know and fall in love with the new sides of him.

You felt Sherlock loosen up as he sighed in relief, leaning towards you as he breathed out: "That's good to hear..."

After the reunion with everyone, Sherlock walked you home, hoping to spend more time with you.

You talked about what happened during the three years, how you've been, his adventures and travels.

What surprised you was how he was planning to travel again despite just arriving back in London, this time with you by his side, showing you to places he thought you would or wanted you to see.

It was quite evident with how much souvenir he got for you (he hid it behind some bushes by your place so you wouldn't get overwhelmed and it wouldn't get stolen)

And how he even bought you a new dress made with the best fabric abroad, hoping you would wear it for the dinner so you would match.

Even during dinner, Sherlock stayed by your side and practically shielded you from Billy the Kid... who happily told you how much the great detective missed you during your absence, even with William confirming his claims.

Despite how awkward it is to hear how much Sherlock shared about you with his friends, it made you happy how Sherlock never stopped thinking about you.

During dinner, you noticed how Billy and William would glance at Sherlock as if waiting for something.

You asked the two what was going on, but they would deny it or brush it off as nothing.

Sherlock, on the other hand, regrets getting caught ring shopping by the two back in America.

Sherlock had to pull the two away after dinner, saying to keep it a secret from you until he felt it was the right time.

Sherlock knew he had a lot to make up with you with how he left, and he plans to make it right.

He already has dates planned to rekindle the fire, hoping to slowly dissolve the distance between you two as he waits for you to reach the same place he is now.

No matter how long it is, even if it's another three years, he plans to prove how much he loves you and ask for your hand in marriage when you both feel ready.

[thedottedi-official]

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[albaricomics]

Who do you think proposed, nacha or Francis? And what do you think the wedding was like?

BTW AHHH I LOVE UR ART U ARE THE BEST TNMN ARTIST AND ARE OUR QUEEN😭🙏♥️

OHGOSH THE PROPOSAL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!

I think they had gone on for at least two years, but honestly, Francis knew Nacha was the one from the first 2 seconds he glanced at her. He was on his knees for her since 💘

He was never the type to do big extravagant things or gifts for anyone (unlike Izaack), Nacha knew this since their first anniversary was just walking out, watching a movie and having the entire day for them, simple date, and she was fine with it

But for the proposal my DUDE worked his a$$ out to get the shiniest, most pretty-looking ring, and a very unique one because if it was hit by the sun, the reflections would show the colors of Nacha's eyes

Such a pretty ring you'd get lost in if you stared for too long, just like he got lost in her eyes all the time

So there she was, sitting at a table of the restaurant where they met; (1941) she used to work there as one of the chefs, the man in charge of receiving food and supplies didn't show up, so Nacha was assigned to do that too (besides all the cooking, ugh yk). A knock on the door made her rush to open and just get done with this delivery already, or else her soup will boil up. Door opened, and a "mmm, hello-" just stop abruptly, and somehow the very visibly tired man's eyes managed to widen, focused on Nacha's. Francis was used to just have a man pick up the milk bottles into the place and be done in just a couple minutes, so this was a very... pleasant shocking surprise. She also forgot how irritated she was just seconds ago, being honest it was nice to see someone closer to her age around here. And so it all started.

(1943) After some minutes of Nacha making circles at the top of her wine glass with her hand, Francis arrived... different. He wasn't in his usual half-asleep mood, he looked very much awake, happy to see her and even a bit nervous. She had to ask what's up with him, they were just having dinner, right? He was up to something, holding himself from letting whatever the secret was slip, and just said he ordered for both and it should arrive anytime. I the meantime, trying to calm things (and himself) down, they chatted on all the wonderful things they've happened to live together, what they've learned from each other, and before they could go on with thinking about the future, a waiter stopped the music machine to turn on the radio; a familiar voice was reading this very specific, romantic poem that was read to Nacha, in one of her dates with Francis...

As she realized, she turned to Francis, who was on one knee already, and now exposing a big flower bouquet he'd hidden in his back; words coming out of his mouth were just revealing how pure his feelings for her really were. As he was done and getting to say "today, I have something very special to ask you...", same waiter came with a silver platter, she took off the lid, and an opened little box with a diamond ring was there, along with a note that said:

"My sun,

... would you marry me?"

The excitement she felt was undescribable, a frantic YES!! was all she could say through her tears and excited jumps, immediately hugging/kissing him (which was a very moving scene for anyone who was there, clapping and cheering filled the place.

The wedding, ooh! Just as beautiful as you can imagine, her dress was pure white with a long tail, golden hour sunlight framing their first husband/wife kiss perfectly 🧡💕

[gulfflora123]

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[v3n1ce-bxtch]

Reader and Joe welcomes baby on their wedding anniversary

•·.·Best Anniversary Ever·.·•

It was your wedding anniversary, a day you and Joe always made sure to celebrate, no matter how busy life got. This year, the plan had been simple, a quiet evening at home with takeout from your favorite restaurant, a movie, and reminiscing about the vows you’d made to each other. But instead of the cozy night you’d envisioned, you were gripping Joe’s hand in a hospital delivery room, your heart racing as another contraction hit.

Your fingers dug into his as you let out a groan, and Joe winced slightly but didn’t dare say a word. He leaned closer, brushing a damp strand of hair from your face with his free hand. “You’re doing amazing,” he said softly, his voice steady, though you could hear the excitement trembling beneath.

You managed a weak laugh, though it came out more like a breathless huff. “I better be,” you said through clenched teeth. “I’m giving you a daughter on our anniversary. Good luck ever topping this.”

Joe’s lips quirked into that familiar grin, his eyes filled with adoration as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Challenge accepted,” he murmured, though you both knew nothing in the world could ever top this moment.

The hours crawled by, each one blurring into the next as Joe stayed by your side. He whispered encouragement when you needed it, wiped your brow when the exhaustion set in, and even managed to crack a few jokes to distract you—though most of them earned him a tired glare. Still, he never stopped smiling, his steady presence a constant reminder that you weren’t doing this alone.

Finally, just as the clock struck midnight—marking the beginning of another year of marriage—your daughter made her grand entrance into the world. Her cries filled the room, loud and strong, and you felt tears spill down your cheeks as the nurse placed her on your chest.

“She’s here,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion as you looked down at the tiny bundle. Her little face was scrunched up, her cheeks pink and round, and you couldn’t believe how perfect she was.

Joe was quiet at first, his hand resting on your shoulder as he gazed at her in awe. Slowly, his smile grew, his dimples deepening as he reached out to touch her tiny hand. “She’s perfect,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. His fingers brushed over hers, and she instinctively wrapped her hand around his pinky. “You’re perfect.”

You let out a tired laugh, leaning your head back against the pillow. “So much for the anniversary dinner,” you joked, your voice hoarse but light.

Joe chuckled, sitting carefully on the edge of the hospital bed, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he leaned in to kiss your temple. “This is better than any dinner,” he said, his eyes never leaving your daughter. “This is the best anniversary gift I could’ve ever asked for.”

The nurse finished her checks and quietly slipped out, leaving the three of you in the soft glow of the room. Joe shifted closer, his arm still around you, as the two of you stared down at the baby. Her tiny features were delicate but unmistakable, and you could already see traces of Joe in her—the same nose, the same serious little brow.

“Happy anniversary,” you whispered, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips.

Joe smiled against your mouth, his eyes shining as he pulled back just enough to look at you. “Happy anniversary,” he replied, his voice full of love. “Thank you. For her. For us. For everything.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, exhaustion settling in but your heart so full it felt like it could burst. As Joe cradled the baby in his arms, his smile never fading, you realized how much your life had changed in the best way possible. Your marriage had already been full of love, laughter, and joy, but now, with your daughter in your arms, it felt like your world was more complete than ever. This wasn’t just the start of another year together—it was the start of a beautiful new chapter.

Taglist: @blackynsupremacy @inmyfeelingsgnocchi @joeybsboo @funnyjb @iknowdatsrightbih @ikeepitlight @nami-swannn @heavyhitterheaux

[p-artsypants]

The Pale Rider (7) Using the Old Boot Straps

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

Even after a week, Astrid still had bruises. Her side hurt, but she could get around. 

It didn’t mean much. She had no cart to sell flowers from. Luckily, she had a handful of orders come in. Anniversaries, well wishes, congratulations, these tried and true events could be planned for. She was just missing out on the spontaneous purchases. On people walking by and seeing the beautiful blooms and thinking, ‘oh I want some of those.’ 

As Astrid was out in the garden, assembling a bouquet for an older couple, a friendly voice greeted, “getting right back into it, huh?” 

Astrid looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Snotlout. What brings you to this side of the village?” Oddly, he wasn’t wearing his guard uniform either. Just a green tunic and leggings. The Rider’s gifted sword was still on his hip though, along with a satchel. “And where’s your armor?” 

His smile turned sordid. “I guess I forgot to tell you, huh? I had been meaning to, but uh…well, Dagur got me. I was relieved of duty.” 

Astrid’s heart sank. “Oh no!” 

“But it’s okay!” He put his hands up. “‘Cause honestly, I didn’t wanna do that job anymore anyways. The guards are all stooges for Oswald and Dagur.” 

“So what are you going to do now?” 

“I’m a pioneer, you know. I’ve made my own niche in the village, and it’s going very well.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah! Mailman! Mailman! Oi Oi Oi!” He cheered, pumping his fists. 

“Mailman, hmm? I can see it.” 

“Viola!” He handed her a piece of paper. “My going rates. And I’m here to offer my services to you, for say…delivering bouquets to clients, or perhaps saucy love notes to your spooky boyfriend in a certain haunted castle on a certain forbidden mountain?” 

Astrid decided to ignore the ‘boyfriend’ part. “You’d go up there?” 

“Sure,” he shrugged. “Maybe not a month ago, but now I know the Rider’s a total teddy bear. Nothing to worry about! Just a little hike!” 

Astrid bit her lip. She really hated the way things ended the last time she had seen the Rider. Even just a letter would help. “Okay, I’ll take you up on that!” 

“Yes!” He pumped his fist again. 

She quickly picked a few flowers and finished the bouquet. “Okay, these are for the Sorenson household. They’ve already paid me for them.” 

“That would be 5 copper fee.” 

“Okay, and for the letter to the mountain?” 

“That’s another five copper.” 

“Really? Even with that hike?” 

“Yep! Because I know he’ll want to respond and I can charge him as much as I want!” 

“You’re terrible.” 

“I can still decline your delivery, missy!” 

She laughed. “Okay okay, why don’t you take the bouquet and then come back? Then I’ll have the letter and the silver piece for you.” 

“Done!” 

—-

Rider,

I hope this letter finds you well, though I can only imagine how lonely you’ve been. It hasn’t been the same around here without you. 

Heather says Dagur has gone completely out of control. There’s chaos in the village. As much as I hate to admit it, I believe it is best you stay away for now, for your own safety. I want to keep in contact with you, and I will let you know when it’s safe to return. Hopefully that will come soon, as Oswald is bound to get Dagur under control once he feels better.

I can’t help but feel this is my fault. I pushed you too quickly, pushed the village too quickly. We should have taken things slower. Maybe then Dagur wouldn’t have been so emboldened. I don’t know, I just feel awful about all of this. You didn’t deserve any of this treatment. 

I hope you bear no ill feelings towards us, or me specifically. We all miss you.

I miss you. 

I hope to hear from you soon.

Love, 

Astrid. 

—

True to his promise, Gobber went ahead and got to work on building Astrid a new cart. This one would be financed by the Rider, and would solely belong to Astrid. She wouldn’t need to pay anyone back. 

Though, she had yet to receive the invoice from Oswald for the cart that Dagur burned. She hoped that when the old man felt better, he’d make Dagur pay for it instead. 

Astrid visited the forge, eager to see what Gobber had come up with. 

It was a beautiful dark wood, picked specifically to enhance the beauty of the bright flowers put on it. The surface was smoothly lacquered, almost feeling like glass. 

“Like it so far?” Gobber smirked. 

“It’s so beautiful! It’s perfect!” 

“I still have to add the awning, and I want to put a rack with holes around the sides so you can display more bouquets! I’m pretty happy with the turn out.” 

Astrid fondly ran her fingers over the surface. “You…put a lot of time into this.” 

“Sure! I wanted to make it good for one of my favorite customers!” 

She smiled, albeit sadly. “Is business down?” 

He waved her off. “Sure, but it won’t be forever! Dagur’s threatening people, but sooner or later, someone’s going to have a toothache!” 

“Or need a blade sharpened, or a deer cut.” 

“That too!” 

“I’m sorry, Gobber.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Lass.” 

“I am, though. If I hadn’t jumped on Dagur’s back…” she rubbed her arm.

“Aye, maybe that wasn’t the wisest thing you could have done—”

Her shoulders sank further. 

“But the Rider needed to see someone fight for him.” 

Was it really worth it? People were being punished for her actions. 

She checked in on the others. At Fishlegs’ bookstore, things were the same. Business was down, but neither Ingerman were worried about it at the moment. Fishlegs assured that the book that the Rider had brought would be plenty to keep them a float for a while. The Twins were similarly optimistic. They had even joked about going up to the castle to ask for retirement funds. 

Though, knowing the Twins, it was hard to tell if it was a joke. 

Heather was a different matter, however. She hadn’t been seen since the Rider was banished, and there was a ‘permanently closed’ sign nailed to the front door of the cafe. 

How Dagur could be so cruel to his own sister, Astrid couldn’t imagine. 

—-

Two days went by before Snotlout returned with a reply. He knocked on the cottage door, grinning mischievously. 

“Afternoon,” she greeted, cautious because of the smile. 

“He wrote back!” He sang, waving the black envelope at her. Even from here, she could see it was open. 

“You little snoop!” She scolded. “And how much did you charge him?!” 

“Enough that he wouldn’t mind me snooping,” he drawled. 

“That’s not how it works, Snotlout!” 

“Okay okay…I just wanted to see what kind of writer he was. You know, if he was literate.” 

“And is he?” 

He chuckled, “is he ever!” 

She snatched the envelope away from him, but didn’t want to seem too eager to read the reply. Instead, she asked, “what’s the castle like?” 

“Boy, I’d tell you all about it, but my feet are killing me.” 

She sighed. “Would you like to come in for tea?” 

“Oh Astrid, that is so sweet, of course I’ll have some tea.” 

She fondly rolled her eyes and let him in. 

“Afternoon, Mrs. H!” He called upstairs. 

“Good afternoon, Snotlout!” She called back. 

He flopped into a chair, kicking his feet up on the hearth. “Ahhh…much better.” 

Astrid put the kettle on. “So…the castle?” 

“Oh! Right! Well, first of all, I didn’t see that much. Just the foyer. But let me start from the beginning.” He sat up and gestured with his hands like he was surveying a canvas. “The path there is actually a lot more clear than I thought. It’s not a hard walk, but it is long. It kinda spirals around the mountain. Then there's these huge iron gates and as I approached, they slid open, and these two huge cauldrons of fire ignited at the top!”  

“Just by walking up?”

“Yep! Super creepy, but super cool! Then, there’s this long bridge you have to cross, and it goes over a giant gorge with a river at the bottom.” 

Astrid leaned over the counter, chin resting on her hands as she got lost in the picture he was painting. 

“And the castle…wow! And I mean wow! Like, we can kinda see it from down here, but that’s only the tip of it. It’s huge with probably a hundred spires! And I swear, some of them were twisted!” 

She narrowed her eyes in skepticism, but didn’t stop him. 

“So, I go over the bridge, and there’s another iron gate, right? Same deal, it opens on its own, big flames at the top, yada yada, inside that gate is a courtyard. And, you know I don’t care about flowers, right?” 

She nodded. 

“The courtyard is beautiful. Roses, vines, big trees, plants that you could probably identify immediately and I’m not doing it justice, at all. And in the center, a big huge stone fountain in the shape of a dragon!” 

“Sounds fantastic,” she hummed. At least the Rider wasn’t living in squalor. 

“Okay, so then I get to the front door, right? I knock using this huge iron knocker, which, by the way, is still in the shape of a dragon. Then a few minutes pass by and our friend opens the door and greets me. He was pretty confused why I was there, but then I handed him your letter and he thanked me and asked me to come back so he could reply.” 

“And that was the first trip?”

“Yep! Second trip, I arrived and he let me in, but had me wait in the foyer. Astrid, I have never been in a room this big. You think the Grand Hall is big? No way. That’s a closet compared to this room! It had arches! And chandeliers! And two winding staircases! And huge black and red curtains everywhere! Actually, next time I go there, I might ask him about the decor choices because there was some unpleasant artwork in that room.” 

“Like what?”  

“Like, right front and center when you walk in, there’s a painting of a guy who’s been stabbed and he’s bleeding all over the place.” 

Astrid felt her lips tighten. 

“Then he came back with the letter, and I left.” He shrugged. “I may have stayed longer, but I wanted to give you that letter…and I got a weird vibe from the place.” 

She leaned forward more, crossing her arms. “What kind of vibe?”

“Call me crazy…but I’m pretty sure the castle is alive.” 

Her eyes widened. “What?” 

“Yeah. I was looking around while I waited, and I swear the walls were moving, and I could feel a deep thud every once in a while.” He wiggled his fingers. “Like a heartbeat.” 

“Now you’re just messing with me.” 

“I’m not! I swear!” He held up two fingers. “You’ll just have to go up there yourself.” 

Astrid had thought about it a few times over the week. Figuring that once her ribs felt better, she could probably make the climb. But she had a fear of leaving her mother for long periods of time. It was one thing to work outside all day, but to be away from the village?

“At any rate, thank you for bringing this to me.” She held up the letter. 

“Your friendly neighborhood mailman, at your service.” 

He stayed for a little while longer after that, drinking tea and talking about how his service was going. He seemed happier than she’d seen in a while, and deep down, she was proud of him.

Though she’d never tell him.

She waited until after he left to read the Rider’s letter. Even though he had already read it, she wanted some privacy. 

The paper was black as well, but the ink was white. His handwriting was elegant, with clean, even runes. 

He evidently still knew how to write, even with his too-long fingers.

—

My Dearest Friend, 

Words cannot describe the joy in my heart I felt when I saw Snotlout standing at my door, with a letter from you. Though I have been lonely, thinking of my reply to you has made my day go by swiftly. 

As much as it pains me, I will stay away from the village as you suggest. I would never forgive myself if you were hurt on my behalf. 

Dagur’s words hurt, yes, but what truly hurt more was seeing him hurt you and not knowing what to do to help. I chose then to leave, hoping in my absence, his rage would subside. Was it successful? Are you still tormented? What more can I do?

Astrid, does the moon hate the sun for casting light upon its face? Does it hate that it is brought from the shadows and made known to the Earth? So why then would I hold any ill will towards you? You’ve only shown me kindness. You have given me what I asked for, and more. 

We will see each other again, I promise. 

Please tell the others I said hello. 

I miss you too.

Your humble servant, 

The Pale Rider.

[sea-lanterns]

I leave for a week and YOURE ALREADY CELEBRATING YOUR FIRST ANNIVERSARY??! 😭😭😭

congrats Angieeee! 👏 thank you for a year of thirsts !

Also-

I NEED Arlecchino pre-ordered,gift wrapped, Premimum Same-day Express delivery, WITH a post card AND I need miss girl SECURELY PACKAGED because my 20 pound dog loves to tear open my packages before I get the chance to and play with the packing peanuts 😭

- 💖

Thank you 💖 anon! I can’t believe it’s been an entire year of sea-lanterns already 😯

Happy Birthday to sea-lanterns! My beautiful blog <3

Anywho, you want an Arlecchino? Sure! She will come extra secured with duct tape since duct tape fixes everything! But also, I’m sure Arlecchino can handle your dog lmao. She will be fine waiting for you out on your doorstop, she will just be grumpy doing so.

[jewwyfeesh]

3rd anni enstars IF story -- story 1

Writer: @ inlandeempire

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

Characters: Kiryuu Kuro, Kagehira Mika, Hakaze Kaoru, Oogami Koga

Theme: "If they're to pick out flowers for someone…"

Disclaimer: this was performed as part of the enstars IF section during the CN 3rd Anniversary stream (37:16 - 40:57). the stories are submitted by fans and two were picked out to be performed live.

translated from CN subs with reference to the script that they posted on screen.

this is story 1 of 2.

Kuro: Is Kagehira workin’ here? It’s pretty hard work.

Mika: ‘Tis not for monetary reasons, but rather ‘cause I’m stuck tryna think up some ideas for a performance… Notta mention, the store owner’s taken care of me before… So I’d thought that maybe takin’ care’of the store might change my mood ‘round.

Koga: Mm, this method’s pretty effective. When I hit a mental block, I’d bring Leon out for a run. A change of scenery really does call forth new ideas.

Mika: Kiryuu-senpai, are’ya here to buy flowers?

Kuro: Mhm, my lil sister’s birthday’s comin’ up soon, and I don’t really know what a girl of her age would like as a gift… Even if I were’ta sew her some clothes, I’m likely to be shunned. Maybe a cute flower bouquet would be to her likin’? Or… would it be more fashionable to pick a potted plant instead?

Kaoru: Yaho~

Mika: Today’s customers are all familiar faces I see.

Kaoru: Sorry, I accidentally overheard your conversation, and couldn’t resist butting in.

Kuro: Hakaze, do ya have any recommendations?

Kaoru: What about making accessories out of preserved flowers? It seems to be the in-thing these days.

Mika: Mm, this particular store’s able ta help preserve the flowers chosen by the customers!

Kaoru: Not to mention, Kiryu-kun would definitely want to gift his sister something that he made with his own two hands, no? Preserving your carefully selected flower, before turning it into an accessory… it’s way more meaningful than any regular flower bouquet out there~ ♪

Kuro: That ain’t a bad idea… I’ll think it over…

Koga: Aa—ACHOO…!

Kaoru: Koga-kun’s wearing a mask in a flower shop and he’s still unable to avoid sneezing altogether… Poor thing…

Mika: Uwaaaah… I forgor that there’s another customer! Oogami-kun, are ya here to buy some flowers too? Yer can tell me what’cha want!

Koga: Mm, I’d like’ta reserve one of those flower baskets[1] congratulatin’ a successful performance, and have it delivered to the nearby Livehouse next week. Is that possible?

Mika: Lemme write that down… Is the flower delivery address the same Livehouse that Hakaze-senpai used’ta manage?

Kaoru: Well, someone else has replaced me in the managerial position~ Even so, I do go back once in a while to check on things. The performance next week… Say, is that the band that Koga-kun’s been looking after?

Koga: Mhm. ‘Cause its meant for a Rock’n’Roll band, I needa pick a super duper cool flower basket!!

Kuro: Hakaze’s still plenty familiar with his own business.

Mika: Yer can have a look at this catalog for the various flower basket arrangements! Though yer need to book them in advance… same goes for Kiryuu-senpai’s preserved flowers.

Kuro: In that case, I’ll go pick out the flowers I’d like to use from the shelves.

Koga: A-a-a… ACHOO! Lend me that catalog, ‘m goin’ out to have a look! Hakaze-senpai, since yer free, help me decide which one’s more suitable!

Kaoru: Ehh? Kiddo, you’re asking for my help so naturally?

Koga: It’s gonna be placed at the door of the Livehouse, so it’s not like it ain’t got nothin’ to do with you.

Kaoru: Ah. Yeah, that’s true. Let’s look through the catalog together, then~

Mika: Hehe, I, too, have found inspiration for ma’ design. The decor for the next stage will have flowers as its main theme… fresh flowers, potted plants, dried flowers, preserved flowers… Creatin’ different results through a variety of combinations…

Translator's notes:

[1] he's talking about those flower baskets that you prop up on huge stands?? that are like "from X to Y, congratulating you on a successful shop opening" or whatever www

Story 2 →