I’M TIRED OF SMUT, I WANT TOOTH ACHING FLUFF AND HEART SHATTERING ANGST.

crazy thing is i would shut the fuck up RIGHT NOW if someone (abby anderson.) just let me suck on their fingers. (abby anderson.)

need this woman so bad why isn't she real

abby is actually the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, her nose is so pretty and her eyes are perfect, she’s my queen 😭

the way so many of you guys act like abby is some mean ass dominating, degrading butch is crazy to me. did you play the game or just see a strong woman and assume…? she is repeatedly shown to be considerate, polite, gentle and caring. her anger filled grief is not her actual personality and i wish you guys would take the time to unpack that. idk if you’re just projecting your own fantasies onto her or what but wow

Taking a female character who belongs to a non-majority group of bigger, muscular women in a video game and making her a very skinny person in the TV show adaptation of said video game is problematic and worthy of (respectful) criticism and I’m tired of pretending it’s not. Because the creators of the TV show said they specifically offered the actor who plays this character the part. She even said she didn’t even have to audition in an interview, she was offered the role with no audition for it. No hate to this actor, she’s amazing, she’s out here working, I don’t blame her at all. But they also did not have other actors (or if they did, very few) read for the part.

But I am so sick of people acting like the character’s original physique doesn’t matter. It DOES MATTER. Media has power, and purposefully erasing a part of a character’s physical identity that aligns her with a group of women who are either grossly misrepresented in traditional media or just cut out of it completely IS harmful. And the fact that they used her physicality to market the second game so heavily and then abandon it when the reception wasn’t good for the TV show is SO problematic. Bigger women are not there to simply be movement devices for your plot and aesthetic choices. People who are bigger matter, and having representation of bigger women fucking matters.

my favorite girl ever

don’t talk to me when tlou part 2 comes to pc tomorrow i’m gonna be busy admiring abby, taking 47302028 photos and speedrunning through ellie’s seattle days to get back to my WIFE

cowboy abs! this is actually my fav piece ive done in like. forever.

they prove time and time again media literacy is dead! i’ll defend her till my lungs give out (although i will always prefer game abby to show abby 😪)

the abby haters are already out here obnoxiously hating on her after s2ep2 and i’m truly in the trenches defending her against these close-minded hooligans this is horrible but i’ve gotta keep on going 💔 i’ve gotta be here to defend my bbg abby I HAVE GOT TO KEEP ON FIGHTING THROUGH THIS MENTAL TORMENT

abby fic- becoming a parent with you

. ݁₊ ⊹ ౨ৎ . ݁₊ ⊹

soft!abby / wholesome!abby / mommy!abby | modern au

this will be pt1 of a short series so bear with me! ᡣ𐭩 pt2 is here

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The apartment is dim, the only light coming from my desk lamp left on low. We were lying on my twin bed, facing each other under a shared blanket that barely fits two. Abby's arm is tucked under my pillow, close enough that I can feel the heat of her skin across the space between us, though neither has reached out yet.

It's quiet-one of those heavy, still silences that doesn't feel awkward. Just full. I’ve been watching Abby's eyes shift softly between me and the ceiling. She's been thinking too much. She always does, when it's this late.

I shift slightly, resting my cheek on her hand, my voice barely more than a breath. "Did you ever want kids?"

Abby blinks. Her brow tightens just slightly— enough for me to worry I’ve overstepped.

But Abby doesn't deflect. She just lets the quiet stretch out longer, like she's really thinking about it.

"I don't know," Abby finally says, voice low and flat in the way it gets when she's feeling something but doesn't want to admit it yet. "I never really let myself think about it." Her eyes shift to meet mine. "It never felt like something I could picture."

I nod, slow. "I don't think I did either," I say. "Still don't, most days. I just... wondered if that's something you ever saw for yourself. Or not."

Abby's mouth twitches at the corner-almost a smile, almost a wince. "I don't think I ever saw anything for myself," she admits, eyes softening. "Not until recently."

She doesn't say it. But I hear it in the pause. In the way Abby's gaze flickers to my lips, then back up to my eyes.

There's a beat of stillness, heavy with something unsaid. My heart thumps, and my hand shifts between us, resting near Abby's wrist. Not touching. Just close enough.

Abby turns toward me a little more. Her voice is softer now. "If I ever did want that... anything close to that... it'd have to be with someone like you."

I swallow around the lump in my throat and give a small nod. My fingers graze Abby's wrist, lingering just enough. "Okay," I whisper, barely audible. "That's good to know."

We don't say anything else. We don't have to.

Abby shifts an inch closer, enough for our foreheads to rest together, and closes her eyes. It's not a declaration. It's just a beginning.

── .✦·········────

The visit had gone well — better than either of us expected, really.

Our friends from college, a couple who had always felt a little older than the rest of the group, had just had their first baby a few months ago.

I squealed the second I saw the tiny thing wrapped in a patterned swaddle, and Abby, who normally looked like she could carry a fridge without breaking a sweat, held the infant with surprisingly practiced gentleness.

Abby had gone a little quiet during the visit, but not in a bad way. Just... watching. Observing. Taking it all in. I had watched her watching — the way she cradled the baby without hesitation, the way she grinned when the baby grabbed her finger in those impossibly small hands, the way she had instinctively swayed when standing, like she'd done it a hundred times before.

On the walk home, my hand slipped into Abby's. It was cold outside, but Abby's palms, as always, ran warm. "She really liked you," I said, nudging her shoulder. "You're a natural."

Abby gave a small shrug, cheeks a little pink from the cold - or maybe something else.

𓂃₊

Back at the apartment, we kicked off our shoes and flopped onto the couch, Miso curling between us in a warm little loaf. For a while, it was just quiet — the kind of silence we didn't need to fill — until I broke it, my voice tentative.

"Did it... feel weird to you?" I asked. "Being there?"

Abby shifted slightly. "Not weird. Just... different. Familiar in a way that kind of caught me off guard."

I nodded, running my fingers gently over Miso's back. "I always thought I wouldn't want that," I said. "I think part of me still feels scared of the idea. Of not being ready. Of messing something up. But when you were holding her, and you smiled like that..." My voice trailed off. "I don't know. It made me think about it. Like, really think about it."

Abby leaned her head back against the couch cushion, gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I used to imagine it, sometimes. Just in passing. What it'd be like, if l ever got to have a family. But it always felt distant — something l'd be good at, sure, but not something l'd actually want. I didn’t see it for myself." She turned to face me. "But… then you showed up. And now we have a cat who thinks she owns the world, and I wake up every day wanting to take care of you. So yeah... I think I could want that. With you. You make me want things I didn't think I'd ever want." She exhaled, with the smallest smile.

My chest fluttered - not just from the words, but the way she said them. Carefully. Earnestly.

"I don't need it to be right now. I don't even know how we'd do it. But I realized something. I don't want a kid — I want your kid. I want to build something that's part of you. I want to see you holding them, and think, 'That's my whole world in one room!" She swallowed. "It's terrifying. But it feels right. You feel right."

I didn't say anything for a long moment. My book slid closed in my lap. "You really mean that?" I asked softly. "You're not just saying it?" I blinked at her, my eyes a little shiny now.

Abby nodded, leaning forward, brushing her fingers over my knee. "I mean it."

A small, wobbly breath left my lungs, like something inside me had been waiting a long time to hear those words. I scooted closer, curling into Abby's side, one hand resting over her heart. "I didn't think I wanted it either," I whispered. "But with you... I think l've been wanting it for a while now. I just didn't want to want it, because it felt impossible. And because I didn't want to want it with anyone else but you."

I smiled, and after a moment, leaned in and kissed her softly. Miso meowed indignantly between us, and we both laughed, breaking the tension. Abby tugged me close again, wrapping me up in the warmth she always carried like it belonged to both of us.

"Not now. Not soon. But... someday." I whispered into her shoulder.

"Someday sounds perfect," Abby murmured, kissing the top of my head, her arm wrapped around me tightly. "We've got time. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah," I breathed, my face tucked against Abby's shoulder. "We always do."

We sat like that for awhile - just holding each other, letting the idea settle between us. No pressure. No timelines. Just the beginning of a shared future, quiet and full of possibilities. It wasn't a plan yet. It wasn't concrete. But for the first time, we let ourselves imagine it- together.

── .✦·········────

It started one night in the kitchen — not with a serious conversation, not with any grand declaration. Barefoot, sweatpants, standing at the counter flipping through a magazine.

Miso was perched on the windowsill, tail flicking, watching something only she could see. Abby stood at the stove, cooking dinner, sleeves rolled up and brow furrowed in concentration.

"You ever think about how we'd actually do it?" I asked casually, still reading. "If we ever had a kid, I mean."

Abby didn't look away from the pan. "Like logistically?"

"Yeah."

A pause. The sound of sizzling onions. Then Abby turned the burner down and finally looked over, a brow raised. "Is this hypothetical curiosity, or are you saying we should start looking into it?"

I shrugged, cheeks pink. "Maybe a little of both."

Abby set the spatula down and leaned back against the counter beside me. "Alright," she said slowly, wiping her hands on a towel. “Let’s say it’s not hypothetical.”

I looked up at her with wide eyes, so much gentleness held in the question I hadn't fully asked yet. "I want to know our options," I said. "If or when we get there."

Abby nodded. "Okay. So we research. See what feels right."

We spent the next week here and there reading articles and bookmarking sites, curled up on the couch in the evenings with one laptop balanced between us and Miso tucked between our knees. Some of it was confusing- charts and acronyms, costs and success rates- but some of it felt surprisingly grounding. Like planning a life, piece by piece.

But there were quieter, sweeter moments too. Abby's hand resting on my thigh as we read. Me gently brushing Abby’s hair behind her ear. The soft wonder in our eyes when we talked about what a child might be like.

We didn't make any decisions right away. It wasn't that kind of conversation. It was just the beginning of a path being cleared- slowly, thoughtfully. Something we could return to again and again, shaping it over time.

Later that night, as we were getting ready for bed, I stood by the sink, brushing my teeth. Abby came up behind me, arms sliding around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.

"You'd be a really good mom," Abby said softly, meeting my eyes in the mirror.

My eyes flicked to her reflection, surprised at first — then softening into something deep, something fond. I turned slightly to rest my forehead against Abby's. "You too."

Abby smiled, that shy, earnest one I loved. "Guess we'll figure it out together."

"Yeah," I whispered. "We will."

── .✦·········────── .✦·········────

pt2 is now here :)

Growing tired of the toxic/abusive Abby headcanons

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I truly don't think Abby has it in her. Not in any timeline, not in any version of herself.

Abby is strong, yes — physically intimidating even- but her strength is protective, never oppressive. She's hyper aware of the power she carries in her body and in her presence, and she's especially careful with the people she loves.

In fact, Abby's worst fear might be becoming a person who could hurt someone she loves. If she even thought she'd made you feel unsafe — emotionally or physically — it would wreck her. She'd spiral into shame, shut down, go quiet for days. She's the type to overcorrect into gentleness because she never wants her strength to feel like a weapon.

She might snap at someone if she's deeply overwhelmed or panicked, especially in a moment of fear or high emotion. But even then, it's reactive — never controlling, never cruel. And she always circles back to take accountability.

What Abby might do instead:

Withdraw. When she's upset, she shuts down. Goes quiet, distant. Not to punish— but because she doesn't know how to process it without accidentally hurting someone. This could feel like rejection if you didn't understand it, but it's self-protective, not abusive.

Internalize. She won't talk about what's wrong, even when she's hurting. She takes on too much, blames herself for things she can't control, and sometimes tries to "handle" things alone instead of leaning on others. This could cause tension — but again, it comes from love, not malice.

More than anything, Abby turns her intensity inward. She's her own harshest critic, especially if she thinks she's failed in her role, it devastates her.

In a relationship with her, built on deep emotional trust and so much care — there's no room for abuse. Disagreements? Of course. Miscommunications? Sometimes. But anything even resembling abuse would be the antithesis of who Abby is.

── .✦

let’s unfuck the narrative please. ༝༚༝༚