haters gonna hate, hate, hate, hate.

Hey, howdy, hey. Live from Colorado, it's your girl Anabel coming at you on the fly. Feel free to call me whatever tickles your pickles. All you have to know right now about me is that I like pina coladas and getting caught in the rain.

[itsgabetho-deactivated20141108]

Guess who’s been away forever? Me. Guess who feels super horrible about it? Not me.

Hey, bitchnachos.

[anabelberries-blog]

The Bae Is Back. Thank god.

[anabelberries-blog]

FALL ON ME ⇄ ANABEL & DYLAN.

[quititdylan-blog]

Dylan hadn’t ever looked at anyone the way that he was, and had always looked at Anabel. It was like he had to touch her because he needed to know that she was real. It didn’t seem possible for someone like her to exist in his world. She was the constant in his life. She knew what to say and when just as well as he did, and never once did he take that for granted. It was funny how things worked with them. They started off as friends, and somewhere along the lines, they threw in some benefits. It was easy at first - for Dylan to let her go as the night went on. He could fall asleep just fine if she weren’t still beside him. But after a while he realized that, fuck, he wanted this girl to stay with him in every sense of the phrase and quietly it killed him because he knew that it wouldn’t work out that way. So they were just the couple that wasn’t really a couple and it was okay because they were happy. He reached up to brush the hair out of her face as the dark red color burned into her cheeks. That blush, though. It added to the amount of emotions he was feeling, and as soon as she said the word ‘treehouse’ - excited became the main one. He practically transformed into a puppy. “Really?!” He said, his eyes brightening and his smile widening. The treehouse was their place. Nobody else knew where it was, or that it even existed. Aside from the person that built it, but within the months that they’ve been hiding out there, nobody has bothered them about it. He didn’t wait for an answer before grabbing her hand and tugging her over to his closet. Pulling it open, he reached down to grab his Ninja Turtles backpack. He took it with them every single time, and he would fill it with childrens books, a blanket, a flashlight, all kinds of food, and some other unimportant things. He had to be prepared for anything. “I am so fucking ready right now.”

[anabelberries-blog]

Anabel discovered that there were now were two places where she felt most safe--wherever Dylan was, and the treehouse. Notably known to her as Casa de Dylbel, it's her hideaway from the rest of the world. Well, her's and Dylan's. She knows that whenever she wants to escape, she'll say the word and soon enough, it'll just be them, holed away at the top of the tree. It makes it all the more better to have some company alongside her, especially such excitable company. Dylan always knew how to make the best out of a bad situation. Considering the way Anabel felt, anything he'd do right now could instantaneously put her in a better mood. He was already doing such an oblivious job at it, but nevertheless, she appreciates every second of the time she gets to spend with him. She held on to his hand tight as he dragged her across the room to his closet, and she looked on at him as he grabbed his totally adorable backpack, and she could see his face was lit up like a kid on Christmas Day and that made her insides spin crazily in circles. One thing she truly loved about their treehouse "dates", if you will, was the fact that it made her feel like a child again--bringing back that feeling of being on top of the world without any cares or stresses anchoring her down to the depths of adulthood. Looking through Dylan's bag made her realize that she doesn't really want to grow up any more than she already has. Why can't she sit around lazily, eating chocolate bars and making finger puppets with the torches every day of her life? Everything would be so much easier that way. She raised an eyebrow, as she sneakily leaned over to observe the objects inside the backpack. "I sure hope there's gummy bears in there," she playfully added, with a tight smirk. "You know how much I love my gummy bears." She snatched the bag out of Dylan's hands, and gawkily scavenged her way to the bottom of the backpack until she was able to retrieve a pair of over-sized glasses, with the glass obviously discarded from inside the frames. She placed them over her eyes, threw the Ninja Turtles bag on her back, and looked over at the boy behind her, gesturing towards the front door, with a kittenish pout. "Come on, Mister Ready. I wanna goooo."

[anabelberries-blog]

FALL ON ME ⇄ ANABEL & DYLAN.

[quititdylan-blog]

Nobody had really talked to Dylan outside of the internet in days. It wasn’t normal. He spent his weekends on the baseball field or in Walmart shopping for various types of yogurt, and he was always keeping someone company. It wasn’t until recently that he had developed a preference for being by himself rather than being surrounded by people. So as a result to the sudden change, he’s been holed up in his dorm in hopes that he wouldn’t be bothered. “Are you honestly doing this right now?” He shouted directly at his controller as his fingers fumbled quickly over the buttons. He was so close to winning this match when it decided to spaz out on him. “No - no no no no no, don’t die. Do not die on me. You’re such a good person. You are strong, you are beautiful, you are brave. I -” And then the screen went blank. “FUCK, YOU STUPID FUCKING FUCKFACE.” A pause, and then a breath, and it started again. “Why do you ruin so many good things for me? I don’t get it. I give you nothing but love and attention and this is how you repay me? By giving up when I needed you the most? You actual dick. I can’t believe you.” The sigh that followed was quite dramatic, and he set the controller on the floor as slowly as possible because he couldn’t imagine holding something that could kill his good vibes so quickly. He covered his face with his hands and leaned back against the end of the bed. “I’m so upset.” The words came out in a whisper. He had been defeated.

Five minutes had passed, and at some point within that time he had placed himself face down on the carpet. There was something horrible to him about losing. He would always tear himself up on the rare occasions that he wouldn’t win a hockey match, or come in anything other than first place during a track event. He was a good enough sport to congratulate the other team, because he was raised in a house where he was given and taught respect, so he knows that being a twat about it isn’t going to change what is fact. It just has the ability to ruin his entire day, and that’s what this stupid video game was about to do right now. Until his door flew open. He looked up, and then he sat up, and it was in the second it took to see her face that the corners of his lips began to curl into a smile. Anabel was the remedy to all of his problems. He didn’t understand the feeling for a long time. The one that came and consumed his entire being whenever she would laugh. It didn’t feel so much like butterflies, but more like a swarm of bees inside of his stomach. It would sting when she would speak because he would remember the way her mouth curved around her words and the way that her words effected him. They meant something more than anything anyone else could have said and it didn’t make sense to him - why she was the only person that could pull his solid ground out from underneath him and become the shelter that kept him safe from everything that might have hurt him. He was off of the floor in one second and in front of her in another. “Always.” He said softly in response, wrapping his arms around her waist so that he could pull her closer. He did it instinctively. Touching her gave him this rush of being anxious and being content at the exact same time. How was it the best feeling in the world to him? He didn’t understand that, either.

[anabelberries-blog]

There was something so soothing about being in Dylan's room. It might have been due to the scent of his cologne; which Anabel was truly a sucker for. It may have also been because it was her second home, really. If she wasn't in her dorm, she'd be be in his. He always made her feel so welcome--what with all the clothes draped clumsily across the floor just as if she never even left her own room--and he always made her never want to leave. Anabel was comfortable with him--so comfortable--so it made sense to go directly to him whenever she just needed to zone out from all of the worries she faced. He was one of the only people who could simply say a word, and everything would make sense--things would fall into place. The most amazing thing was that he didn't have to try. Sure, he probably would do his best, but just a small touch from his fingertips to her cheek, or his smile that was so unbelievably contagious that any time she spent with him, there was no frown in sight. And she loved that it was the norm for the both of them; enjoying one another's company, and laughing until their insides ache. Dylan was the best cure to her theatrical meltdowns, because only he knew exactly how to tread around her, and only he would have the answers that she secretly hoped for. Her ears pricked as she looked up shyly, moving her hands from covering her flushed face down in front of her--making room for his arms to wrap around her waist agreeably. She'll never truly get over the sensation she gets whenever Dylan touches her, whether it be in the comforting manner or even something more, it still feels as if it was the first time he laid a finger on her; it was gentle, and soft--as if he didn't want to hurt her--and Anabel noticed, and she was so glad that he took such good care of her. She could feel her face flush, and in a matter of seconds, her cheeks turned a deep pink color. She placed her hand against his chest, and forced herself to look up directly at the boy in front of her. She couldn't explain why she felt numb in his presence. But it was a beautiful kind of numb--it was the kind that made her heart pound furiously in her chest; it was the kind that made her palms slightly sweat. And again, she couldn't quite put her finger on why she felt this way. "I think.." she murmured quietly, unable to complete her sentence, which was the first for Anabel: the natural speaker. "I think it's treehouse time."

[anabelberries-blog]

FALL ON ME ⇄ ANABEL & DYLAN.

Anabel truly believes she has lost her marbles. Metaphorically, of course. She ultimately decided that it was finally time to buckle under, and wrap her head around trying to achieve higher grades-- rather than her usual mediocre attempts that doing so--in her classes. It's always been more or less her lack of concentration, and unfortunately, Anabel has come to the conclusion that she needs to do something about it. However; this does not mean that she will successfully go through with her plan. In fact, her decision lasted approximately ten minutes, when her mind wandered aimlessly around her room, practically searching for a reason to halt whatever she was doing, and pursue something a tad more exciting. That's when Anabel confirmed to herself that there was no point in carrying on her endeavors into schoolwork, so she fell back on her bed; eyes glued to the ceiling and relinquished all hope in making a single effort today. Refusing to even acknowledge the substantial pile of textbooks on her bedside, she sat up in sudden impulse. She had to get out of her room which was soon to become a scholastic vortex--devouring her very good thought in the form of essays and oral presentations--and leaving a sour taste on her tongue. She threw on her creased jacket, brushed off the specks of day-old dust, and slowly closed the door behind her. There was only one place she wanted to go at a time like this, and it came so effortlessly to her that she didn't even need to think twice to which direction she had to walk--her feet would carry her to where she desired to go. And right now, she had to see Dylan.

If there was one person who would be able to get Anabel out of this nasty school induced funk, it was Dylan. He was good at making her forget about every worry, and every stress-ridden aspect of her life--even if it was just for a day; or an hour or two, he always knew exactly what to do. And before Anabel could completely crumble into a billion pieces, she needed Dylan to slowly help put herself back together again. A bit like Humpty Dumpty in a metaphorical sense. In about two minutes flat (a new record for Anabel, might she add), she found the familiar number of his room, and did not hesitate to storm right in. His door was practically always open, anyhow. She combed her fingers through her wild, unbrushed hair, and looking over to him with her face hidden under her hands. "I'm having a crisis," she whispered; her hands covering her mouth just slightly so her words came out almost in a soft murmur. "Help me?"

[evansalice]

Sheer genius. You can have your veggies and your dessert at the same time. I think it’d be possible. Then again, I ate an entire cake on my sixth birthday and threw up, so maybe that’s not the best idea.

[anabelberries-blog]

Exactly. And, I mean, eating a buttload of carrots has its benefits: I'll finally be able to see in the dark. That's what I'm worried about myself. I can't even eat a bar of chocolate sometimes without throwing it all back up the next day. Maybe I'll eat through it slowly; just in case of a possible vomit explosion.

[quititdylan-blog]

It’ll be worth the wait.

[anabelberries-blog]

I'll take your word for it then.

[quititdylan-blog]

Do you trust me?

[anabelberries-blog]

Of course I do, silly.

[quititdylan-blog]

Give me three days.

[anabelberries-blog]

Three? You're going to keep me waiting three days? It better be good.

[quititdylan-blog]

[anabelberries-blog]

Okay, so you know I don't like secrets. When exactly are you going to tell me?

[quititdylan-blog]

Maybe I’ll tell you sometime.

[anabelberries-blog]

Color me intrigued.

[quititdylan-blog]

We can go with that.

[anabelberries-blog]

What other reason is there aside from that?

[quititdylan-blog]

Nah.

That’s not the only reason.

[anabelberries-blog]

But it's the numero uno reason, right?

[sethwhy]

Maybe if you believe it enough. I’m a strong enthusiast in anything you want you can do.

[anabelberries-blog]

I think that's beautiful. I shall take your words with stride, Gwenda. 

And by that, I'm going to unashamedly enjoy my "healthy" cake. Grab a fork, and chow down alongside me if you'd like.

[quititdylan-blog]

You are a beautiful person.

[anabelberries-blog]

Yes, I'm aware of this. But you're only fixed on my beauty because I give you free cake.

[quititdylan-blog]

Will you save me two crumbs please?

[anabelberries-blog]

I could save you a slice. Or two. If I'm feeling a little generous.

[evansalice]

That sounds legit to me. In fact, you should probably eat five carrot cakes, then it’d count as five vegetables. Boom. Logic.

[anabelberries-blog]

And then I wouldn't have to eat any other vegetable for the rest of the day. That's genius. I don't know if my tiny stomach will be able to hold five cakes at once, but I'll certainly try my bestest. Anything for scrumptious cakes.

[quititdylan-blog]

Yes.

[anabelberries-blog]

I appreciate your straight-forward answer, Sire, even though I was totally going to eat the whole thing regardless.