taylor price

@theartofmadeline

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noise dept.

Origami Around
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open

titsay

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Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
trying on a metaphor
Cosimo Galluzzi

#extradirty
Today's Document

roma★
Mike Driver
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
untitled
tumblr dot com
NASA
TVSTRANGERTHINGS

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@4rt3m1ss
Boundaries are not requests.
"Please don't do that." is not a boundary, it's a request.
"If you do that, then I will leave the room." is a boundary.
Boundaries are never requests made to someone else. Boundaries are never about anybody else, they are about you and what YOU will do.
Many perceive boundaries as THREATS, because most people have been trained to view if/then statements as hostile threats of violence, regardless of the content of the if/then statement. It's really weird!
I want to push back on this a little bit. I have struggled with boundaries for my whole life, and the book that really helped me was THE BOOK OF BOUNDARIES by Melissa Urban, which illuminated to me some of the ways in which my idea of boundaries had gotten skewed (I felt like other people setting was fine, but if I did it, I was being "mean").
The book provides not just discussion about boundaries, but loads and loads of example situations for nearly any conflict you might face in life, with Urban's "green, yellow, red" model of boundary-setting escalating in severity. Most of the time, after all, you don't want to start with "If you do that, I will leave the room" -- most of the time, with most people you encounter, that is a little firmer than is required. It is, by Urban's framing, setting a yellow boundary. "Please don't do that" is what she would call setting a green boundary.
And this is exactly why I thought that I was being mean if I set boundaries, because I realized that I was putting off boundary-setting in "green boundary-setting" situations. I was gritting my teeth and trying to ignore the problem until we reached a point where my annoyance was solidly in the "yellow" or "red" territory, and that led to a lot of conflicts, because when I did that, people were genuinely startled and taken aback by how irritated I was. To them, it felt like it came out of nowhere, and so I was getting a lot of really defensive responses, which reinforced the idea in myself that I was doing a bad thing by setting this boundary. "I should have ignored it harder," I thought to myself. "I should have just chosen not to be bothered." Nope! Wrongo!
Turns out I actually needed to set a lot more boundaries a lot earlier, well before I got to the point of actually being irritated. Turns out that "Please don't do that" is a perfectly valid place to start. But the key is that you start there, you don't finish there -- if the green boundary-setting (generally just a simple request or statement of fact like "Ooh, I don't like that") isn't enough, THEN you proceed to the yellow option (generally a disclosure of what your next action will be if the situation continues). THEN, if it continues, you go to the red option (reaffirm what the boundary is and take the action you disclosed).
In THE BOOK OF BOUNDARIES, Urban would frame the situation in a way that looks like this:
Your coworker keeps clicking her pen, and it's driving you nuts and distracting you. GREEN: "Hey, could you stop the pen-clicking?" YELLOW: "Seriously, it's really distracting. I'd rather not move to another workspace, but if you don't stop, that's what I'm going to do." RED: "[while gathering up your things] I really need to focus right now, and I can't do that with the pen-clicking. I'll be working in the break room if you need anything. [leave]"
OP uses two examples of SETTING a boundary, and calls one of them a "boundary" and one of them a "request" -- but neither of those are the actual boundary. The boundary is the inward thought to yourself of, "I want this to stop." And yes, that's not a request -- but it is also not an if/then statement! A boundary is simply something that you know about yourself and your needs: "I'm not going to be able to concentrate like this. I need to focus and the pen-clicking is getting on my nerves."
Therefore, neither of the two choices OP offers are actual boundaries; they are two different ways of telling other people about what your boundary IS. And guess what! We live in a society, and politeness still exists and is important. This was crucial for me to realize when I thought that boundary-setting was "mean" -- it was a RELIEF to me to have the acknowledgment that having boundaries and being courteous to others were not mutually exclusive.
So when it comes to making choices about how to express or take action on a boundary -- yes, of course that can absolutely involve making a request to another person. "Please stop" 1000000% counts as communicating a boundary.
Anyway, get Urban's book, it's awesome.
I have enough education about the functions of the human body to know that anything that's called a "cleanse" is quite certainly bullshit, but having run out of coffee and having to switch to going through my unreasonably large tea supply, I can kind of understand the logic of why people feel like a cleanse is doing something.
Once you've downed a gallon of green tea and pissed out two gallons of god knows what, you kinda start feeling like "wow, this has to be good for me. I am being rinsed out. Pissing out all my accumulated mercury, microplastics and evil spirits."
My heart does go out to the families of the kids in critical condition from Evergreen High School who will be forgotten in all of this chaos.
There was a shooting at a Colorado high school at around the same time as Charlie Kirk was shot.
“never kill yourself” is such a funny phrase to me that i think it’s accidently started working. its like an affrimation. say ‘never kill yourself’ enough times as a joke and maybe you won’t try to kill yourself over minor inconviences anymore
everyone was joking about trump dying today and I think that's really horrible and cruel. PLEASE do not joke about trump dying unless it's true and confirmed!!! I got really excited and then when I found out he was still alive i was really disappointed!! like that's so mean to do to people
Nothing more embarrassing than accidentally using a big word wrong because now I'm simultaneously both stupid and pretentious, the worst combination of all time
To whoever programmed dogs to cry and whine when their handler is killed in TLOU2, count your fucking days
He’s probably lying about that too, who knows
Ona was wiping away a tear.
That’s it I’m done
Save A Horse, Ride A Cowgirl 2
bronc abby x buckle bunny reader
mentions : modern au, cocky abby, romance, smut, strap on sex, fluff, ellie, dina and jesse mentioned
summary : abby takes the reader out on a date to the rodeo fair.
notes : part 1 <-
It had been a week since you last saw Abby—not for lack of trying, but because her schedule was packed. Between training, competitions, and whatever else a professional rodeo star did on the daily, she was constantly on the move. You’d barely gotten a glimpse of her after that night under the stars, and yeah, you were feeling the absence.
Then, out of nowhere, she found you on Instagram.
You weren’t expecting much when you clicked on her profile, but the second you did, your jaw nearly hit the floor. Over two million followers. Verified.
The Abby Anderson you met at the rodeo was already something, but this? This was next level. Scrolling through her feed, it was all action shots of her on horseback, winning competitions, and the occasional training video where she looked effortlessly cool. And, of course, thirst trap pictures—shirt slightly unbuttoned, sweat-drenched after a long day, those muscular arms flexing in ways that made your brain short-circuit.
You followed her back immediately, not expecting much, but then your phone buzzed.
ab.anderson: Hey, bunny.
That was all it took. One simple message.
Numbers were exchanged, and you started texting here and there, but Abby? Abby texted like an old man. She sent full sentences, used punctuation, and even signed some texts off with -A like she was sending an email. The sexting? Even worse.
So, to save your sanity, you resorted to FaceTiming whenever you both had the time. It was easier, and if nothing else, you got to watch her struggle with modern technology.
Then, one night after work, just like clockwork, your phone lit up with her name.
You answered, flopping onto your bed. “What’s up, cowgirl?”
Abby’s face filled the screen, and damn, she looked good—hair damp from a shower, sitting somewhere that looked like a hotel room. “Hey, bunny,” she said, her voice warm, familiar. “What are you doin’ this weekend?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Why? You finally making time for me?”
Her smirk widened. “Damn right. There’s a rodeo fair in town—I wanna take you.”
Your lips parted in surprise. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to go—it was just unexpected. Abby was the one always in the rodeos, so you figured she’d be too busy competing.
Before you could respond, though, a thought struck you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “Okay, but real quick—why the hell do you text like an old man? Have you heard of TikTok? They'll teach you everything you need to know.”
Abby groaned, running a hand down her face. “I don’t use my phone much, and I don’t manage my social media. My team handles all that.”
Your eyes widened in mock shock. “You have a team?” You gasped dramatically. “I’m messing around with someone famous?”
Abby laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I guess you are,” she said, voice dripping with amusement. Then, she leaned in a little closer to the camera, her eyes gleaming. “It’s nothing, really—just the number one bronc rider in the country.”
Your jaw dropped at her blatant flex. “Oh, fuck off,” you said, laughing. “You just had to throw that in there, huh?”
Abby grinned. “Had to make sure you knew what you were dealing with.”
“Oh, trust me,” you drawled, smirking. “I definitely know.”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “So? You comin’ or what?”
You bit your lip, pretending to think before finally nodding. “Alright, Anderson. Take me to the rodeo.”
Her smirk softened into something warmer, something almost fond. “Good,” she murmured. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
The weekend finally rolled around, and your room looked like a damn tornado had ripped through it. Clothes were strewn across the bed, shoes kicked to the side, and Dina was sitting cross-legged on the floor, scrolling on her phone between giving you brutally honest fashion advice.
Your hair was styled perfectly, your makeup was flawless—but the outfit? That was the real struggle. You held up a few options, groaning each time they didn’t feel right.
"You’re overthinking this,” Dina sighed, tossing a pillow at you.
“You’re underthinking this,” you shot back, pacing in front of your mirror. "I like her a lot, Dina. I have to look good."
“You always look good,” she said, rolling her eyes before sitting up. “But if you want to look hot—go with those shorts and that cheetah print corset top.”
You turned to the mirror, holding up the outfit against your body. The booty jean shorts hugged your curves just right, and the cheetah print corset top? It was giving country but make it sexy. You paired it with some black boots, did a little spin, and finally, finally felt satisfied.
Just as you finished adjusting everything, you heard a honk outside.
“Perfect timing,” Dina grinned.
“Lifesaver,” you said, giving her a quick hug before grabbing your bag.
Stepping out of your room, you found your dad lounging on the couch, eyes locked on the TV as Yellowstone played. Without a second thought, you leaned down and kissed his cheek. “Bye, Dad.”
“Be safe,” he muttered, still half-distracted. “And don’t be out too late.”
You smirked. No promises.
Pushing open the front door, you were immediately greeted by the sight of that familiar black truck parked in your driveway. The engine was humming low, the headlights casting a soft glow, and sitting behind the wheel—looking fine as hell—was Abby.
She was decked out in all black. Black jeans, black button-up, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off those arms, a silver belt buckle glinting under the porch light. The way she leaned back in her seat, one hand resting on the wheel, exuding effortless confidence? Yeah. Trouble.
You climbed into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you with a soft thud before turning to her. “Damn, Anderson,” you said, looking her up and down. “You didn’t even look like this the first time we met.”
That smug smirk of hers grew as she gave you an equally slow once-over. “I should say the same to you, bunny,” she murmured, voice thick with approval. “You look real good and…” she trailed off, reaching toward the center console, “you forgot something.”
She lifted up the hat she had given you, the one from the rodeo, and before you could even react, she placed it on your head, her fingers lingering just a little too long.
Your stomach flipped.
“You ready?” she asked, her voice softer now, her eyes locked onto yours.
You smiled, adjusting the brim of the hat before nodding. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
With that, she put the truck into drive, pulling off down the road, the night just beginning.
The festival was alive with bright lights, the air thick with the scent of fried food, caramel, and the smoky tang of barbecue. Laughter and country music blended into the background as you and Abby moved through the bustling crowd, tickets in hand, ready to indulge in everything the fair had to offer.
From the moment you stepped through the gates, the night was nothing but fun. Abby, as it turned out, was really good at carnival games—almost too good. Every time she stepped up to a booth, she won with ease, knocking down milk bottles like it was second nature, landing impossible shots in rigged hoops, and hooking prizes from claw machines like she had magnets in her fingers.
She must have won you at least five plushies before you even reached the food stalls.
"Are you sure you’re not cheating?" you teased, hugging an oversized stuffed horse to your chest.
She smirked, tossing a ring onto a bottle without even looking. It landed with a perfect clink. "Nah, bunny. I’m just better."
Your night was briefly interrupted when a few festival-goers recognized her. People stopped her in passing, asking for autographs, asking why she wasn’t in the rodeo today. Abby didn’t even hesitate before slipping an arm around your waist, pulling you into her side as she answered,
“I canceled for this pretty lady right here. Don’t worry—I’ll be back in the arena before you know it.”
That answer alone had your stomach flipping.
Eventually, you two made your way to a concession stand that sold drinks and jello shots. Abby stuck to her whiskey, sipping slow, watching with amusement as the men behind the counter flirted with you, handing you drinks and shots for free simply because you were pretty.
You took every single one they handed you, and before you knew it, you were drunk out of your mind.
Abby didn’t mind, though. If anything, she loved seeing you in your fullest element—carefree, laughing, tipsy off life and liquor.
But then, something caught your eye.
A mechanical bull.
You gasped, eyes going wide with excitement, and before Abby could react, you took off, weaving through the crowd toward it.
“Shit—bunny, wait—” Abby called after you, quickly catching up, standing at your side as you bounced on your heels in line.
“You sure you wanna do this?” she asked, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
“I’m more than sure,” you grinned, barely able to contain your excitement.
The line moved fast, and when it was finally your turn, you climbed onto the bull with surprising ease, settling in like you’d done this a hundred times before. You wrapped one hand tightly around the horn, the other adjusting the hat still perched on your head. With a confident grin, you shot a thumbs-up to the operator.
He pressed the button.
The bull jerked to life, spinning and bucking in unpredictable movements, but you held on like a pro. One hand gripping the saddle, the other keeping your hat in place as you moved in sync with the mechanical beast.
Abby was impressed.
But if she was being honest? She wasn’t really focused on how good you were at staying on.
She was focused on the way your hips rolled, the way your thighs clenched to keep yourself balanced—the way your body moved so effortlessly in a rhythm that had her wishing, praying, that it was her beneath you instead of that damn machine.
She was so lost in the sight of you that she almost didn’t notice the group of guys standing nearby, whispering among themselves, eyeing you in a way that made her blood boil.
“Damn, look at her ride that thing.”
"Bet she’s even better in a—"
Before the guy could even finish that sentence, Abby was already on her feet, standing over them, voice low and dangerous.
“Watch your fuckin’ mouths.”
The guys looked up at her, startled, and quickly muttered some half-assed apologies before backing off.
By the time Abby turned back, you had finally lost control, tumbling off the bull with a breathless laugh.
“Woooo! New record—60 seconds!” the operator announced through the mic before stepping over to help you up, handing you a giant plush cow as a prize.
Still clearly drunk, you stumbled down from the platform, plushie in hand, and the moment you saw Abby, your eyes lit up like you had just won the lottery.
“Look what I got!” you beamed, holding up the cow proudly.
Abby let out a small chuckle, shaking her head as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Yeah, I see it. Come on, babygirl,” she murmured, voice soft as she led you toward a nearby table by the food venue.
She pulled out a chair for you, easing you into it before sitting beside you, resting a protective hand on your thigh.
"Let’s get you some food before you pass out on me."
Abby was about halfway to the food stand when you shook your head, pressing your fingers to your temples.
"I'ma be honest, my head is still spinning,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair. “Can you get it for me? I’ll save our spots here.”
Abby turned back to you with a smile, tilting her head slightly before leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the lips. “Alright. What do you want to eat?”
You smirked, eyes glinting with mischief. “You… but I’ll settle for some nachos.”
Abby let out a low chuckle, shaking her head as she patted your thigh. “Alright, I’ll be back.”
With that, she walked off, disappearing into the crowd.
As you waited, you sighed, pulling off Abby’s hat and using it to fan yourself. The night air was warm, and the combination of alcohol and excitement had left a flush on your skin. You were still grinning to yourself when you noticed movement from the side—then suddenly, a group of guys stepped up, surrounding you almost entirely.
It didn’t take long to realize who they were.
The same group of perverted assholes that had been whispering about you while you were riding the bull.
You remained seated, looking up at them with a bored expression.
One of them smirked, tipping his beer can toward you. “Damn, sweetheart, you sure know how to ride.”
Another one chimed in, eyes raking down your body. “Bet you’d be even better on somethin’ else.”
You worked at Hooters—you were used to men hitting on you. So instead of reacting, you plastered on a small, polite smile, already preparing to shut them down.
“Thanks, but I’m good. My girlfriend’s getting me something, and she’ll be back any second now.”
That should have been enough. Should have been.
But it wasn’t.
The flirting didn’t stop. If anything, it got worse. More persistent.
One of them, the tallest of the group, stepped closer, invading your space. “C’mon now, no need to play hard to get,” he drawled. “We’re just tryna have a little fun.”
Your patience was running thin. “And I said I’m good,” you said firmly. “I don’t want any of you—”
Before you could even finish, a rough hand grabbed your arm, yanking you up from your seat.
It happened fast—too fast for them to react.
Before he could tighten his grip, before he could say another word, your fist connected with his face.
A sickening crack filled the air as his nose burst open, blood spilling down his face. He stumbled back with a strangled yell, clutching his face in pain.
“Fuck off!” you snapped, eyes blazing as you glared at the rest of them. “All of you.”
The rest of the group stood frozen, wide-eyed.
“I’m a lesbian. I don’t even like you—any of you.”
There was a stunned silence. Then the guy you had just punched groaned, still gripping his nose. “What the fuck, you crazy bit—”
“What the fuck’s going on here?”
The deep, unmistakable voice sent chills down your spine.
You turned just in time to see Abby storming toward you, jaw clenched, brows furrowed in a deadly glare. She was holding a plate of nachos, but her focus was entirely on the scene in front of her.
The guys immediately took a step back.
Abby’s gaze snapped to the guy with the bleeding nose, then back to you, eyes scanning for any sign of harm. “Bunny,” she murmured, voice tense, “you good?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Just dealt with some assholes who couldn’t take a hint.”
Abby’s eyes darkened, and without missing a beat, she dropped the plate of nachos and stepped toward the group.
They didn’t wait for her to get closer.
One of them muttered, “Shit—let’s go,” before grabbing his friend and dragging him away, disappearing into the crowd like cowards.
Abby watched them go, chest rising and falling with barely restrained anger.
Then she turned back to you.
“C’mere,” she murmured, voice softer now.
You didn’t hesitate, stepping into her arms as she pulled you into a tight embrace. You felt the tension in her muscles, the way her fingers flexed against your back like she was trying to ground herself.
Finally, she sighed, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Next time?” she said, voice teasing but still laced with concern. “Wait ‘til I’m back before you start throwin’ punches, yeah?”
You smirked, tilting your chin up to look at her. “No promises.”
Abby huffed, shaking her head before pressing a firm kiss to your lips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, bunny.”
You let out a small sigh, rubbing your temples. The adrenaline from earlier was fading, leaving behind a dull headache—and your buzz? Gone.
“I think my buzz is wearing off,” you admitted, looking up at Abby. “Can we just go? They kinda ruined the mood.”
Abby frowned, her jaw tightening slightly, but she nodded. “Yeah, sure. We can go to my place.”
That made you pause. You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “Your place? Didn’t know you were from around here.”
“I’m not,” she said with a smirk. “I’m staying at an Airbnb.”
That was enough to convince you.
The ride to her place was quiet, comfortable. Abby kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on your thigh, her thumb rubbing slow circles against your bare skin. You leaned into the seat, feeling exhaustion creeping in—but when you pulled up to the Airbnb, you were wide awake again.
Before you could even get out of the truck, loud, excited barking rang through the air.
The moment Abby opened the door, two dogs bolted toward her, tails wagging furiously.
You blinked.
“You have dogs?” you asked, sliding out of the truck and shutting the door behind you.
Abby chuckled as she knelt down, rubbing one of the dog’s head affectionately. “Yeah. Didn’t I mention them?”
You shook your head, already crouching to pet them. You loved animals—always had—but taking care of them? Different story. Feeding, walking, and worst of all, cleaning up after them? Not your thing.
Still, that didn’t stop you from melting a little Alice licked your hand. “Aww, you’re both so cute,” you cooed, scratching behind their ears.
Abby carried the giant plushies inside, dropping them onto the living room couch before turning back to you.
“Their names are Bear and Alice,” she said. “I adopted them from a friend.”
You glanced up at her with a small smile. “Well, they’re adorable.”
Bear—who was definitely the troublemaker—jumped up on you, his paws landing on your thighs, his tail wagging like crazy.
Abby snorted. “Yeah, adorable until they knock you over.”
You laughed, nudging Bear back down gently before standing. “So… what now?”
Abby raised a brow, a slow smirk creeping onto her lips as she stepped closer.
“I can think of a few things,” she murmured, her hands slipping around your waist.
Your stomach flipped.
Yeah, you were definitely feeling awake again.
Abby’s gaze flickered down to your lips, and that was all the signal you needed. You leaned in, pressing your lips against hers, soft but full of intent. She didn’t hesitate to kiss you back, her hands gripping your waist firmly before she lifted you with ease, making you gasp against her mouth.
Instinctively, your legs wrapped around her, your arms draping over her broad shoulders as she carried you effortlessly through the Airbnb. The feeling of being handled like that sent a shiver through you, heat pooling low in your stomach.
By the time she reached the bedroom, Abby laid you down onto the bed, her body hovering over yours. The room was dimly lit, just enough for you to see the hunger in her eyes. You pulled her down into another kiss, deeper this time, biting her bottom lip just enough to make her groan. But before she could take control, you pulled away, your lips curling into a smirk.
You sat up, sliding off the bed slowly, making sure her eyes followed you. Abby leaned back on her elbows, watching as you reached for the hem of your top, peeling it off teasingly slow before taking your bra off also. The cool air met your bare skin as you let the fabric drop. Next, you hooked your thumbs into your shorts and panties, sliding them down your legs with the same deliberate pace.
Abby’s tongue darted out to wet her lips, her hands flexing against the sheets.
“You gonna ride me like you did that bull?” she asked, voice thick with anticipation.
You bit your lip, letting your fingers ghost over her thighs as you climbed onto her lap, your bodies pressed together, heat radiating between you.
“I think you already know the answer,” you murmured.
As you sinked into her lap, you felt something abnormal in her pants. You looked at her confused "Whats that?," you asked.
A knowing smirk appeared on Abby's face "Find out," she said.
You looked at her with a raised eyebrow before getting off of her and unbuckling her pants and pulling them down, along with her boxers, letting them pool at her ankles.
It was a strap, a black one that was about 8 inches.
"You had this on the whole festival?," you asked, looking at her.
"Gotta be prepared," she said with a shrug.
Abby's strap was stuffed deep inside of your wet cunt, she groaned seeing you take every single inch with ease.
Her hands were on your waist as you were on top of her, keeping your promise.
Riding her.
You put your hands in the middle of her chest, keeping yourself balanced as you started to slowly ride her, needy moans spilling out of your mouth.
"Fuck bunny. You're doing so well...taking me so well," she praises as she looks up at you, taking in the sight of you. The way your breast bounced with each thrust, the bites she left on your shoulder and neck, the way you took her cock like it was made for you.
Fuck—what a sight to see.
Once you adjusted to her cock, your thrusting became faster, your hands shifted from her chest to the back of her thighs.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you moaned out as your head tilted back, your cunt fluttering around her cock, wanting more.
Abby pulled herself up, sitting up as she grabbed her hat, that you disgarded on the side of the bed as she put it on your head. "Come on ride my cock, cowgirl. You can do it better than this.'
The words coming out of Abby's mouth only made you whimper. Even she knew you werent giving yourself enough simulation.
She took that as a sigh to wrap her arm around your waist, keeping you steady before she uses her other arm to leverage herself to fuck up into you, making you gasp in pleasure.
The thrust were deep and fast, the head of her cock kissing your cervix, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
She grunts with each thrust as she felt it too, the base of the strap rubbing against her huge, puffy clit.
You soon match her thrust, going down as she thrusted up. It made her cock hit every spot perfectly earning almost pornographic moans out of you.
Your hips soon start to twitch and the knot in your stomach starting to build up. "Ah— fuck I'm gonna cum," you announce.
"Me too, babygirl," she grunts out.
The grip she had on you, got tighter as her hips twitched against yours, but you didnt stop you couldn't. You wanted to cum. You needed to.
You stopped Abby's movements by pushing her back down by her chest, her hands went back to your waist as you got back to bouncing on her cock.
You bite your bottom lip as you switched between grinding and bouncing. "Im coming!," you moaned out.
You both came at the same time, Abby threw her head back the sounds coming out of her were a mix of moans and gasps.
The sounds coming from her only made you cum harder, seconds after her, your juices spilling and covering her cock and thighs along with her own.
You huffed before you slowly got off of her and laid down beside her.
Abby was looking at you, her eyes heavy but full of something deep—satisfaction, maybe, or amusement at the lazy grin pulling at your lips. She reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear before letting her fingers trail down your jaw.
Then, with a teasing smirk, you broke the silence.
“Save a horse, ride a cowgirl,” you murmured, voice smug and slightly breathless.
Abby huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “Jesus, you’re ridiculous.”
The morning was slow and peaceful, the kind of lazy dawn that made you want to stretch out the moment forever. Abby was still knocked out in bed when you slid into one of her flannels, the fabric drowning you in warmth, the scent of her clinging to it like a second skin. You didn’t bother buttoning it all the way, just enough to cover yourself as you padded barefoot through the Airbnb.
Bear and Alice stirred the second they saw you, tails thumping against the floor as they eagerly followed you to the back door. “Alright, alright, hold on,” you muttered sleepily, opening it and stepping onto the porch as the cool morning air kissed your legs. They ran out to do their business while you made your way back inside, the scent of coffee filling the air as you brewed a fresh pot.
You perched on one of the stools at the kitchen island, cradling the warm mug in your hands, taking slow sips as you let yourself sink into the morning. That was, until you heard the soft creak of footsteps behind you.
Abby shuffled in, looking half-asleep but still effortlessly gorgeous. Her hair was a little messy, her arms stretching above her head as she yawned. She was only in a sports bra and sweatpants, and damn, did she look good—like the kind of good that made you want to skip breakfast and drag her right back to bed.
She came up behind you, pressing a slow, sleepy kiss to your cheek before moving toward the coffee pot.
“You’re up early,” she murmured, voice husky from sleep.
“Had to let your children out,” you teased, nodding toward the dogs outside.
She grunted in response, pouring herself some coffee. You watched her for a moment before deciding to address the elephant in the room.
“So… when are you gonna ask?”
Abby turned, raising a brow. “Ask what?”
You rolled your eyes. “To be your girlfriend, dummy.”
She smirked, taking a slow sip of her coffee as she leaned against the counter. “I thought we were locked in when I put my hat on your head.”
You scoffed. “Well, you were wrong. And you’ve been doing slang research—‘locked in’ is new.”
Abby huffed out a laugh, shaking her head before stepping closer. “Alright then,” she said, setting her coffee down before looking at you properly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
A smirk tugged at your lips as you lifted your mug, letting the words sit in the air for a beat before answering.
“Yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”
You smiled against the rim of your cup, taking another slow sip as Abby watched you, grinning.
“Good,” she murmured. “Because I wasn’t planning on letting you go, anyway.”
Abby leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, her hand resting on your thigh as if to anchor you to this moment. When she pulled back, she gave you that signature smirk—the one that made your stomach do flips.
“You know,” she mused, eyes dragging over you with that signature smirk, “you look real good in my clothes.”
You raised a brow, setting your mug down before leaning forward on your elbows. “Yeah? Guess you’ll have to get used to seeing me in them, huh?”
Abby’s smirk softened into something more genuine, something a little too tender for the casual morning conversation, but she didn’t shy away from it. Instead, she leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before muttering against your skin, “Yeah, I guess I will.”
taglist : @rhian88 @abbyslvrrr @hell0-ki55y @spritelova @abbyscoochiecruncher @smaugayra @chaikichainsaw @femme-historian @h2pinky @lilredbird101 @kirna-diane @viperineee @sincerely-forest @athena-winters13 @madsxh1022
best fic ever omg
Found some text posts and and made tlou text posts 😍
silly jokes that have probably been made before with better quality images but shhhhhh ❤️
that’s basically how santa barbara went lmao