#love to dissociate with abby <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[chai-berries]

abby coming home after work and you’re fixing dinner — homemade pizza — and she stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as she tells you about her day, including a morning gym session that she swears made her buffer

“what?” you laugh and she takes it as a chance to show off for you and jokingly flexes her arms for you, going “oh yeah? how’s this for a gun show?” and you’re giving her your best audience reactions, oohing and awing as she does different poses. you reach up and squeeze her bicep.

“my girl is so strong,” you coo

abby drops her arms and leans into your space “i’ll show you strong” followed by her wrapping her arms around you and picking you up, swinging you around. you squeal out a laugh, begging her to let you down while also never wanting your goofy abby to leave you alone.

[s-4pphics]

let the rain sing. interlude (a.a)

wc;cw: 6k, dadsbestfriend!abby, lawstudent!oc, large age gap (oc is 25, abby is mid 40s), abby is bi<3, fluff, HEAVY ANGST ANGST ANGST!!, childbirth, vomiting, blood, brief mentions of abortion, descriptions of insomnia, alcoholism, familial death, heavy descriptions of grief (depression, dissociation, anger), suicidal ideation, funerals & hospitals

Abby was conflicted when she found out she was pregnant. 

She was ecstatic to start her term at Harvard Law due to some internship offers she received, but her excitement swiftly dissipated when waves of nausea started to overtake her. 

She wasn’t concerned with the feeling at first. The fall term was always the most unpredictable for weather, and she assumed it was just the flu that often went around. Humiliation rushed through her when another wave hit during her sociology course, rushing out into the hallway to bend over the nearest trash, vomiting up her favorite brown sugar oatmeal from that morning. 

She decided to see a doctor three days later when the sickness continued. She couldn’t get her test results the same day due to her hectic schedule and exhaustion from studying, so she opted to request them in the mail, despite her gynecologist’s urgency. 

When she received her results two days later, her heart sank. 

She paced around the small living room of her boyfriend’s apartment with anxiety in her gut and love in her heart. She’d been in complete disbelief, crumpling the urine test in her hands and throwing them onto the coffee table. 

Her mind was racing a million miles per minute: How was she going to explain to her boyfriend—her parents— that she would be keeping her child no matter what? Her parents promised to be supportive of her if she stayed in school, but she was almost positive that they would disapprove of her baby. She didn’t care if they supported her or not, but she didn’t want to raise her children in an unstable environment. She wanted to give them the best of everything, of herself, but she couldn’t do that then. Her boyfriend had already been working like a dog to keep this place afloat, and a baby would be a burden for both of them.

But she knew she wanted to be a mother when she was young. She had a large family, but she always gravitated towards her younger relatives due to their liveliness. They made her feel joy that she knew she missed out on growing up, so she lived through them. They revived her in a sense. The circumstances were different in her mind when she envisioned herself as a parent: she was older, successful, married to the love of her life, and not regretting any of her decisions. She would’ve been happy. Excited and thankful for the blessing she believed kids to be. 

Seeing the news terrified her and almost sent her spiraling into panic; She was only twenty-three! 

She loved children. They always flocked to her when she was growing up, whether it be her younger siblings, cousins, nieces and nephews, or random people’s toddlers in grocery stores garbling at her from their cart seat. She never felt annoyed towards her younger family members. She always held them tight so they knew how much she loved them, no matter how much they got on her fucking nerves sometimes. 

What teenager volunteers to babysit her big sister’s toddlers on the weekends? 

… Abigail. 

She was a nervous wreck while she waited for her boyfriend to come home from work. She’d been sobbing for hours, but she managed to calm herself down by staring at her frantic form in the bathroom mirror. 

She couldn’t think straight with the pounding in her head, nervously bouncing her leg as she sat on the couch as she bit her nails.

And then their front door unlocked. 

Abby… oh my god… I’m—

We’re pregnant? Oh my fucking god, we’re pregnant! 

We’re having a baby?! I’m gonna be a dad! 

Abby was not expecting her boyfriend to drop the wrinkly papers and lift her into the air in a heap of excitement, drowning her in tight grasps and kisses to her mouth and cheek. She cried harder; His joy was so comforting. 

She wasn’t going to be alone during her pregnancy, and she was grateful. 

Abby dropped out of Harvard three months into her pregnancy. 

Her and her newfound husband eloped at their town’s small lake at the end of his third year at law school, and they moved in together shortly after so she didn’t have to move around as much. She knew carrying was difficult, but her hair was falling out and she sobbed whenever her husband asked her what she wanted for dinner. 

You’re so sweet! I can’t help it, okay?! Leave me alone!

She and her husband were left to fend for themselves during her first trimester. 

Her parents did not take kindly to her pregnancy announcement. She was always super close with her parents growing up despite their overprotective nature, and she hardly ever fought with them. Whenever they expressed their disapproval of her decisions, she bowed her head and left without rebuttal. 

She expected the worst when she and her husband invited them over for dinner to announce it to them properly, and that’s exactly what she got. 

Abigail… Are you fucking kidding me!

What the hell is a child going to do for you right now?

Do you understand how much you’re giving up? You have so much to lose!

You’re cut off unless you… handle that!

Her husband took over the conversation with a sharp, defensive tongue since the pounding of her head made her shut down. She was so fucking nauseas at their suggestions. She did consider an abortion a couple of weeks into her pregnancy, but the way her parents talked down about her future baby broke her heart and pissed her off. 

Her husband's booming shouts at her parents would have triggered her defense for them under any other circumstances, but she only felt protected as he told them to fuck off! She knew she was loved by him to an infinite degree. Appreciation for her husband bloomed inside of her like roses.

Her parents left with a loud slam of their front door, and her husband held her as she sobbed at the table. 

The food he prepared for everyone ran cold. Neither of them could stomach anything for the next few days. 

Abby’s third trimester was the most difficult, for both her and her husband. 

She never experienced this much pain in her life. 

She was six months along, and it really took a toll on her body. Her ankles were swollen, her ligaments were aching, and her joints would not stop popping whenever she moved around the tiny one-bedroom apartment. Her hair loss made her too anxious to leave the house, and she hated how superficial she felt whenever she would weep because of it when her husband was at work. At least her nausea subsided. 

She hated looking at herself in the mirror: her under eyes were dark and droopy, small bald spots littered behind her hairline, dark patches littered her skin. She looked fifty years older, and she hated it. 

But her husband never failed to kiss away her insecurities. Appreciate them. Drown them in affection no matter how much she cried about hating herself. 

He worked so hard for them to stay afloat: two jobs while keeping up with his course and nearly drowning in his studies. He suffered some pushback due to the transition from a full to part-time student, but he was doing his best to finish as quickly as possible. 

Abby cried every night as his exhausted form slept next to her. 

She felt so… useless. She watched her husband bust his ass, get fired from previous jobs, get turned down from decent-paying jobs, and she couldn’t help but feel responsible for his weariness. He looked just as worn as she did, and she loathed herself for putting all of this responsibility on him. 

He never complained, though. He would come home with takeout, kiss her head, tell her how much he loved her and how all of this would be worth it. 

Was the decision to keep her baby selfish? 

She didn’t know at that time. 

Abby had a premature birth. 

She’d finally gathered the courage to go shopping with her husband for decorations for the nursery, but the trip was cut short when she began having contractions in the middle of the toy aisle. 

They awoke her earlier that day: the cramps always brought her discomfort, but she noticed that the intensity was different. They shot through her much more harshly than they should’ve, but they eventually stopped, so she paid them no mind. 

Until she was hunched over the stocked shelves as her husband tried to get her into the nearest empty seat. 

She breathed out harsh cries of the baby, my baby as her husband frantically dialed for an ambulance despite her protests. The pain she felt burned whenever it flashed through her lower body, a constant push downward, and she knew something was wrong.

Her mind was racing as anxiety rushed through her body; she thought back to her frequent hospital visit. She knew a premature birth would be a possibility due to some complications with her cervix, but it was still early. She’d just reached the seven-month period, for fucks sake!

She could barely make it outside when the ambulance arrived, her vision foggy and she couldn’t stop sobbing, the paramedics’ voices sounding like bleating alarms in her ears whenever they attempted to calm her. She couldn’t bring herself to care about anything as she came in and out of consciousness, the only thing on her mind being the image of her happily crying husband holding their newborn for the first time. 

Please let my baby be okay, please, please, please—

Abby couldn’t stop sobbing. She never thought that conceiving would cause a stabbing pain in her heart. 

She went hysterical when she overheard that her baby wasn’t breathing, her heart rate monitor going out of whack as her lungs burned from her ragged breaths. Her husband tried to calm her down with his soft touches and words, but it only made her cry harder. She needed to hold her baby!

Her labor had already been nerve-racking, full of uncertainty and left her and her husband panic stricken for hours despite the doctors’ instructions to keep calm. When her infant was rushed into another room, her husband, and other doctors had to pin her down to keep her from thrashing from panic in her hospital bed. 

She didn’t stop until another doctor returned and told her husband that their daughter would be closely monitored while on ventilation for the rest of the week.

Please, can I see my baby? Please, please?—

But her cries were gently denied due to their infant’s extremely fragile state. They tried to comfort her as much as they could, but none of their soft words, husband’s cuddles and meals, or warm, fuzzy socks soothed her. 

She and her husband were released days later with an empty car-seat filled with stuffed animals and a pacifier. 

Their hearts were vacant. 

Their home was soulless for two weeks. 

No baby crying, no diaper changing, no breastfeeding. They didn’t even have the heart to finish decorating for the nursery. 

Abby watched her husband move on autopilot, waking up, going to work, going to class, and struggling to sleep. His insomnia had increased drastically ever since she gave birth, heavy bags forming under his eyes as he launched himself into his notetaking in the middle of the night. His desk was swamped with hefty books and sloppily stacked paper, murmuring to himself so he could memorize the necessary vocabulary. 

She was overcome with failure and nearly drowned in self-loathing. Failure as a wife, as a parent. She couldn’t protect and care for her baby how she wanted, and guilt rested heavily with intent to crush her. 

They both couldn’t speak, only whispering soft I love you so much before she slipped off into dreamland, her subconscious terrorized with images of her smiling baby girl who she prayed to see soon. 

When Abby’s husband got the call from their daughter’s doctor, they both rushed to the hospital. 

Abby’s raging nausea was quickly soothed by the doctor’s delighted face upon their arrival before ushering them to his office. 

I’m excited to tell you two that your daughter’s stable! She’s quite small, but she’s healthy! We do have some extra caretaking rules—

They could barely understand the doctor’s rambling due to their excitement of seeing their newborn for the first time. The doctor handed her husband paperwork before leading them down the long hallway. They nearly toppled over each other as they followed the doctor, bursting into the room that held newborns and other premature infants. 

They followed the doctor to their child’s incubator, and immediately burst into tears at the sight of their little—very little—angel. 

She was wrapped in an oversized onesie and booties that nearly slipped off her tiny feet. That was the first time they both saw her eyes open, and they couldn’t control their emotions as they sobbed from pure joy. 

They were so eager to hear the news from the doctor that Abby’s husband left the car seat in the vehicle. He probably looked crazy as he sobbingly retreated to the car with a strong love in his heart. 

Abby was first to hold their baby. She took note of the pediatrician’s instructions when wrapping her in blankets whenever her feet felt cold. 

When she felt the light weight of her child in her arms, she felt the purest form of love explode in her chest. She didn’t know how long she’d been crying and cooing at the bundle of joy, inhaling her scent in the crook of her neck, but she never wanted that feeling to dissipate. 

When her husband returned with the car seat and small bag, he kissed his daughter’s head so lightly. She cooed at him, and he and Abby squealed as the doctors giggled. 

They finally had their baby Mya in their grasp, and they left with light searing in their hearts. 

Their first few months with a newborn were rough. 

Loud crying. Dirty diapers. Frantic schedules. No fucking rest for either of them. But they both knew they wouldn’t trade the chaos of their small home for anything. It was all worth it when Mya kicked her feet when she looked at the twinkly star stickers on the ceiling before bed and garbled at the two of them. 

Abby never thought breastfeeding would be as taxing as it was. She woke up to her breasts feeling like rocks, their child’s cries wracking through the nursery. At least her hair started to grow back. 

Her husband was always awake in the wee hours of the morning, dragging himself into Mya’s small nursery like a zombie to feed and nuzzle her. Abby loved walking in on the two of them sleeping whenever she finished pumping, Mya pulled close to her father’s chest. 

The sight of their synced breaths always calmed her; She fell asleep with ease knowing they were together.

Toddlers were… interesting. 

Abby, in all her years of being surrounded by children, never witnessed a toddler reenact fish… noises? Since when did fish make noise?

Abby’s husband mistakenly left Animal Plant playing on their television while he snored on the couch with books on his chest and lap, and Abby drowsily entered the living room to shut off the loud narrations about extinction. 

Only to catch their baby girl bouncing up and down on the cushion next to her slumped dad, puffing her cheeks together and making quiet blubblubblub noises, just like the intensified audio from the television. 

She tried to regret teaching her baby how to take her first steps and get out of her crib on her own, but the sight made her heart brighten as she smiled to herself. 

She eased towards the couch, taking a seat next to an excited Mya as she watched the aquatic life interact with each other. Her smile widened at the sight of her mom, her tiny, stubby finger coming up towards her lips while she pointed towards her dad. Abby grinned and nodded with her, filling her cheeks with air like she saw her child do before she interrupted. Mya laughed quietly and copied her mom. 

She promised to scold her for being up way past her bedtime later. 

Mya fell asleep on Abby’s chest as she listened to the sound of the ocean. 

Mya had just turned four when Abby received a call from her mother. 

She hadn’t heard from her parents in years, and frankly, she didn’t want to. She could tell that her husband was a bit hurt that they didn’t congratulate him for receiving his law degree, but he was able to let it go, especially since his baby girl gave him the fattest kiss on the cheek in a small celebration.  

… Hi, honey. I know it’s been a while since, uh… since we’ve talked but… I just wanted to say I love you… and tell my granddaughter I said happy birthday… We love you all very much. I hope we can all meet again soon. Bye.

The voicemail made her eyes burn with sadness. Then anger, then love. She missed her parents immensely, but she would never be able to forget how they reacted to her pregnancy. Mya quickly became her source of happiness the second she was born, and she couldn’t imagine what her life would be if she never had her baby. 

She knew she would have to reconnect with her family at some point, but Mya would always come first. If her parents were to ever make Mya feel like her future was ruined because of her, Abby would be fine with never speaking to them again, no matter how much it would hurt. 

Abby jumped when she felt two small hands grab the fat on her wet cheeks, pressing slobbery kisses to both. 

Don’t cry, mommy! S’gonna be okay! I love you!

Abby shouldn’t have cried harder, but she did, choking out a sob as she tried to smile for her daughter. 

I know, baby. I love you so much. Everything’s gonna be fine. 

She hoped—prayed her daughter was right.

Abby and her small family’s lives changed so much in just a few months. 

Her husband found a stable job as a document clerk at a law firm, and they were able to move out of his dingy apartment into a decent one story after some months. It wasn’t anything extravagant, but they were happy. 

The bags under her husband's eyes have lessened in shade ever since his graduation. He also gathered time to eat with her at their small dining table instead of eating at his computer desk alone. They were finally comfortable. 

They bought Mya anything she wanted to make up for her disappointing birthday parties. 

Abby took note of her daughter's love for water. 

She always used to play various audios of rainfall and ocean waves for a sleepy Mya until she was two, but she didn’t expect the soothing technique to explode into her four-year-old playing in puddles and obsessively watching the rain through the glass backdoor. 

She watched Mya sit and stare out the wet windows, quietly humming lullabies to herself until she slipped into rest, gently snoring against the couch cushions. Abby never took kindly to Spring due to her allergies, but she was happy her baby found comfort in it. 

She told her husband about their daughter’s new habit when he returned from work one day, and he thought it was the most precious thing in the world. He wished he could’ve been present to see it. 

Maybe she wants to be a fish! We should take her to the lake one day. 

Abby scheduled swimming lessons for Mya that very next week. 

It was confirmed. Mya was a mermaid in her past life. 

She was a bit intimidated by the large pool when they arrived for her first lesson, but after a few sessions with her swim teacher, she stubbornly protested wearing her purple and blue floaties. 

C’mon, honey! Put your arm through so we can go swimming! 

No, mommy, no! 

She felt a bit of jealousy build in her gut when her daughter’s swim teacher gently pulled her stubby arms and legs into the little floaties without fail. She could hear Mya’s joyous giggle as she slapped the water around, practicing her paddling with her instructor’s support. 

Abby begrudgingly ate her Cheetos with a pout on her face from the poolside chair. 

Mya was five when she met her extended family for the first time. 

Her birthday had just passed, and Abby’s mom rang her line, inviting her family over for a small dinner. C’mon, sweetie! I just wanna see my granddaughter! 

Abby was not surprised when the “small dinner” turned out to be a full-fledged surprise party for Mya: balloons everywhere, a large cake with a Barbie doll in the middle, all her cousins, aunts, and uncles jumping with party hats. 

Mya was more than giddy at the sight, squealing and running over to the only auntie she knew, but Abby and her husband were a bit skeptical. It’d been a long while since they’d been in this environment, and they were very uneasy. But their little angel was so happy, so they pushed their edginess to the side. For her. 

The party went smoothly for the most part, despite their initial feelings, but Abby and her parents did get into a small scuffle in the backyard. It took everything not to snatch the icing-littered fork from Mya’s hand and make their exit. 

You have to understand where I’m coming from! Imagine if someone you loved told you to get rid of your kids when you were pregnant! Would you not feel disappointed?

I wouldn’t! I would understand that they had my best interest in mind, regardless of the situation! 

… I can’t believe the both of you. You’re really gonna stand by that? On her fucking birthday?

Abby’s husband politely thanked everyone for the gifts and food, but he knew it was time to go by the tense expression on his wife’s face. She thanked him for his intuition every day; She was about to cause a wreckage on that patio. 

He picked up his tired baby girl from her resting spot on the couch, grabbed his keys, and ushered his wife out the door without another word. 

Abby silently cried the entire ride home, her husband's hand enclosed tightly around hers, resting in her lap. 

Abby and her husband decided to take Mya to the lake where they got married for her seventh birthday. 

She could finally swim without assistance, and they wanted her to live out her mermaid fantasy. 

They made an entire weekend out of it: kayaking, fishing, wakeboarding. Mya looked so happy the entire time, completely engulfed with her love for nature. They'd never seen her so explorative; She wanted to see everything the trip had to offer. Including the sunset at the highest point of the hiking trail. 

Honey, we’re getting old! We can’t run that fast anymore! 

Hurry up, lugs! We have to make it to the top before the sun sets! C’mon!

Before they left the campgrounds, Abby shoved her camera into her husband’s hands, tossing all her bags to the floor and pulling her daughter up onto her back, listening to her laugh as she yelled at her husband to take a picture of them in front of her favorite place. 

How the hell do you use this, Abby?!

Just take the damn picture before I fall!

The swear jar is gonna be filled before we leave! Stop cursing, old heads! 

Okay, 1, 2, 3! Say cheese!

Abby and her daughter squealed as the camera flashed in front of them, the grounds filled with the family’s joyous laughter. 

Abby noticed changes in her husband’s behavior. 

He came home from work smelling of liquor, and their cabinets were becoming stocked with tequila and aged bottles of wine. At first, she assumed he was just going out with his work friends after his shift, but when he jokingly expressed to her that he needed liquor to sleep one morning, she grew concerned. Her husband developed sleeping problems years ago, but he never went into detail about it. She felt so guilty. 

When Abby gently expressed her worries to him one night before bed, he blew up on her. It was the first time they ever fought. Ever. 

I’m fucking stressed, Abigail! I have so much to take care of and I’m not getting any fucking help from you! I can’t fucking sleep anymore! 

Do you know how many times I begged you to let me fucking work! You always said no because of Mya! And keep your fucking voice down, my daughter’s sleeping!

Oh, now she’s your daughter?! Really? 

Her husband went to sleep on the couch that night while Abby quietly sobbed as she checked on her daughter, relieved at her snoring, unmoving form. She didn’t need to hear any of that. 

She cried herself to sleep. 

She woke up to the smell of sweetness and coffee. She drowsily rubbed her eyes and entered the kitchen, her husband already sat and sipping his coffee, looking just as exhausted as she felt. 

They ate their breakfast in silence before her husband broke it, tearfully mumbling out his apologies. 

You and Mya are my life. I love you both so much. I’m gonna get help, I swear. I hate feeling like this. 

Abby trusted him; He had her full support. 

Mya loved riding her new, pink bike in the rain. 

The streets were empty and quiet when it poured heavily, and the vacant roads made for a great practice track. Her father gifted her a tricycle for her eighth birthday, and she couldn’t separate from it. She rode it up and down the street for hours, only to run inside with her clothes completely drenched, change into dry ones, and run back outside and hop onto her new ride. 

She begged her mom to buy her an actual bicycle because she felt like she was ready for one, and she gave in to her daughter’s pouty face. She couldn’t deny her; she was too cute! 

After many scraped knees and elbows, she was gliding through the streets on her two-wheeler with ease through the rain. She was happy, so Abby was too. 

Her husband returned to his normal behavior a year later. 

The cabinets and garbage cans were no longer stocked with bottles, and he didn’t smell of Tequila anymore. It was relieving, and she was so proud. 

When Abby’s husband asked her on a date, her heart pounded against her chest like she was about to have her first kiss again. 

She came home from shopping, dripping wet from the heavy rain, to a bouquet of flowers and a sloppily written note, dotted with hearts and little sparkles. 

Taking Mya to see Ross’s daughter. Picking you up at 7:30. I love you. 

Hubby. 

Abby rang her sister as she bolted up the stairs with a wide grin on her face. 

She finally had an excuse to wear her fancy, rosy-red dress!

Abby grew nervous when her husband hadn’t answered the phone. Four times in a fucking row. 

They were already a half hour late for their reservation, and Abby’s sister and youngest nephew were patiently waiting for her husband and Mya to walk through the front door. 

She bit and picked the rosy polish off her nails despite her sister’s protests. 

Girl, they’re fine! Probably just traffic, it’s pouring! Be patient for once before you sweat your make-up off. 

Abby knew her sister was right, but she couldn’t ignore the feeling of unease in her gut. Her husband was a lot of things, but he was never late, especially without warning. Something didn’t feel right. 

She never considered herself superstitious, but she felt the loud rumbles of thunder were confirmations of her suspicions.

An hour passed, and Abby couldn’t breathe. 

When her husband’s bone-shattering, slurry cries rang through her speaker, terror shook through her body like the lightning bolts that shone behind the clouds. She was instantly panic-stricken, trying to make out the words that vibrated her ears. 

She looked at her sister with fear and confusion before the words Mya… hit… car… bike tore through the line like a knife, piercing her in her chest with intent to kill. 

She couldn’t breathe or think, and her phone dropped from her hands before the world around her went dark. 

Abby looked down at her drunk husband as he crouched on the slippery, black pavement, grabbing at her ankles, and sounding like he would cough his lungs up as he cried her name, wailing out apologies. 

She doesn’t know how she got to her mutual friend’s neighborhood, or why her husband's cries were gut-wrenching, or why she was sitting in the back of an ambulance with the oxygen mask still strapped around her head. 

… Why wasn’t Mya sitting next to her, holding her hand, and telling her everything was going to be okay? 

Her sister and nephew were sobbing as a police officer explained the events of the scene, but Abby couldn’t hear anything. She refused to hear the poisonous words they spewed at her about their child. All she had to do was wait for her baby girl to run up and whine about how much she missed her. 

She would come. She thought. She would. She would. She would. 

… Hit and run… We’re so sorry… loss. 

Abby shook her head and her nails dug into her palms.

She would come. Her baby would come. She loved the rain too much; She would never miss a thunder show. She would come. 

The blaring rumbles that rang through the sky confirmed it. Her baby would come. The universe believed it, so she had to. 

Abby looked up from the broken man in front of her and caught a glimpse of the mangled, pink bicycle and stretcher that was draped in a white sheet, surrounded by people dressed in black coats and badges with their heads bowed. The outline of the body underneath the pale, red-speckled covering was small, unmoving… Looked too much like—

Her head dropped right back to her choking husband. 

No, no, no! She would come, she would come, she would come—

An hour passed, and the rain stopped. 

Mya never came. Abby couldn’t stop screaming. 

Abby hated hospitals. 

The paramedics were fearful of leaving her and her husband alone in their hysteria, suggesting to detectives that they should return to the hospital until they were stable. 

She never thought she would distance herself from her husband; She even shocked herself when she harshly shoved him away from her when he reached for a hug. His devastated expression tore her heart to shreds, but she couldn’t look at him, hold him, bear to smell the alcohol that masked the formerly comforting scent of his cologne. Not at that moment. 

They were placed in separate rooms for the night, and Abby wanted to die. 

She heard the broken hollers and whimpers of her parents and siblings out in the hallway as the doctors explained the situation. She felt like she would suffocate if she stayed trapped in this bed any longer. 

Everything’s fine. Everything’s fine, everything’s fine—

Her brain’s chants were paused by her screeching sobs as her eyes squeezed shut, bile creeping up her throat despite her attempts to swallow. Her throat was dry, and each choking gulp felt like shards of glass that sliced through her esophagus, all the way down to her stomach. She couldn’t fucking breathe. 

She heard the heart rate monitor increase in beeps beside her as she wailed, a few nurses urgently reentering the room to try and calm her down. She felt like her throat was bleeding with each shout of her daughter’s name. 

Mya was dead, and she desperately wanted to join her, souls entangled for eternity. 

Three days passed. Abby hated the world. 

Her and her husband sat in his parked car in front of their home, staring straight ahead as rain poured from the sky. 

They said nothing to each other; they hadn’t even looked in each other’s direction since they left the hospital. 

Abby felt tears jerk in her dry, lifeless eyes, allowing them to stream down her face, matching the pace of the heavy droplets that hit the window. She thought that she was hallucinating; She could almost hear her daughter’s cheerful laugh coming from outside.

She slowly turned her head towards their home, and bile rose her throat at the sight of her daughter’s discarded, pink tricycle that lay flat on the porch. She hadn’t touched it in a while, thanks to her new bike. 

She opened the passenger door and threw up on the side of the road as her husband sobbed next to her. 

She wanted to die and, deep in her empty gut, she knew he desired the same. 

Abby looked in the mirror of her parent’s guest room, completely still.

She was draped in all black from head to toe, wearing her daughter’s black bow at the end of her braid. She regretted putting on makeup; her mascara was already streaming down her face in wet, black lines. 

Her under eyes were dark and her vessels were busted from crying for a week and a half straight. She doesn’t remember the last time she slept or eaten, and she didn’t want to. Every dream she had was filled with her daughter’s laughter, and she couldn’t stomach anything thinking about the angelic sound. 

Her husband stood in the doorframe, just as visibly destroyed as she was. Just as lifeless. 

They exchanged looks, but neither said a word. They hadn’t spoken to each other in days. Abby had nothing to say to him. 

He was the reason they were burying their daughter, and she despised him for it. The mourning she felt for her child was stronger than her love for him, and she didn’t care how selfish it was. 

The rain was beating down on the black umbrella that draped over Abby’s sobbing, hunched form, her nails digging into the sopping dirt and tearing at the grass. Her mother’s dress was covered in wet stains. 

Her wails and pleas for her child back were painful and loud: she felt caressing hands on her back, and it took everything not to slap them away. 

She didn’t need fucking comfort! She needed her daughter! Her precious, innocent, darling daughter, Mya. She would’ve given anything—given her life up for her baby. She deserved to live, to see the ocean, to become the mermaid she always wanted to be. She hated her fucking husband. 

The sight of her daughter’s casket being lowered into the ground felt like a sharp blade in her chest. Her father and husband had to drag her from the ground and to her feet despite her desperate shouts to join Mya in the dirt. 

When she was placed in her parent’s backseat, she clutched the passenger headrest in front of her to center herself. Her nails tore through the leather as she hyperventilated, small whimpers of her daughter’s name leaving her mouth. She felt like she would vomit again. 

The car was filled with her family’s cries as the clouds poured their sorrow onto the car. 

Abby quietly prayed to herself as her distraught mother drove them all back home, hoping that her daughter’s spirit would grow to be as large as the sea. 

Just like she always wanted. 

──────────────────────────────────────────

grief fucking sucks lol

this was heavy 4 me. i love yall

taggie waggies :3 @ohlawdthebirds @fibrogirlie @unangelic-thoughts @chrry1ovr @uraesthete @gravygranules @digit4lslut @machetegirl109 @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @macaroni676 @sillygooselit @nil-eena @elliesgirlll @hi2647 @fr0thycoffee @mai5mai @sweet-lover-girl

prologue. part one. part two. part three. part four.

──────────────────────────────────────────

[rikomoriyama01]

can i ask about how many ways can a raven break (if thats one of the thing u can ask was a bit confused)

its one we really hope to turn into a fic we have a friend who is very excited for it (and is also our sensitivity reader) riko joins foxes and as part of his therapy with abby he keeps a journal where he writes long thought spirals any time he is anxious so that then he can consider whatever or not he wants to show it to Abby or not, the journal is here to help him keep his thoughts a bit more organized. At some point Riko notices new notes in the journal notes in German (his notes are always in Japanese) as well as doodles and drawings. this agitates him. he is aware that andrew is the only person reading his journal which he passively allows but after the notes started appearing he started hiding the journal. this leads to andrew growing suspicious, when few days later riko catches him going through journal he had hidden they get in a fightt (riko punches him all of sudden something that somehow never happened before). one thing leads to another and over course of following therapy with new therapist as bee was not qualified enough to diagnose him Riko is diagnosed with dissociative personality disorder (all parts of system refer to themselves as Riko but they do have nicknames they use as well) There is "Fox" (you can think about him as all my cute fox riko headcannosn and arts very energetic and full of life very fannon kind of riko)- Riko after joining the foxes, he is much more open in showing his emotions he is actually based on the rp "quarterhouse/roadkill" he dates renee aaron and kevin , genuinely loves life and is very unhappy when he finds out details of his condition - he feels extremally possessive of the body and time he has which leads to frustration towards other alters and fear that their actions might fuck up his already complicated life "Raven" (much closer to canon riko or even fandom riko - evil brody mad bad) - Raven was the first fronter and keeps most of memories from nest, this is why fox himself did not remember much form before joining foxes, raven hates fronting now, he misses nest he hates fox tower hates the foxes , his pride is still not healed, he does snot feel safe or accepted around them, he is nyctophile and still gets triggered into fronting any time its perfectly dark (when foxes figure that out there is some teasing happening about it which he despises) as well as when it rains. Raven loves kevin and feels posessive over jean and does not see reason why renee and aaron should be part of that. is the one who broke jean "captain" possibly riko's first split - captain is on the court and takes care of all things exy, he will become good friends with neil who will be the only reason captain starts fronting outside of games- just to chat about exy. captain is also not convinced about need for relationship with renee and aaron as he sees both to be mediocre players and he is straight (all of this plays a lot into aarons relationship insecurities and makes fox miserable and resentful of his alters). captain is very frustrated to find out he is not a captain any more and is pretty damn hurt over not being a captain anymore it is bit of crisis for him considering the title was core of his personality as far as he rememberer. later on riko get title of co captain <3 is very confused as to why jean can not play "King" - trauma holder, specifically physical abuse , hates fronting because feels phantom pains constantly "Princes" - a split made to help King cope with the psychological part of the abuse, princess is regressed little girl who just wants to be loved and cared for, jean is her knight and she can NOT find out who hurt him , it would break her

there is also danny who is split from one of riko's most constant abusers he does not front just provides bad vibes and keeps them on edge psyhologically fun stuff i love about it: Kevin absolutely can not deal with the fact that he is not the favourite person of all rikos fox woudl prefer not to choose but renee was his girlfriend before kevin became his boyfriend again raven sees kevin as his everything so this checks out captain also likes kevin but he end sup pretty taken by neils approach to the game over time princess loves jean and renee and idk she doe snot give a fuck about exy so can kevin shut up about it? (jean is delighted) king does not like anyone i don't think kevin should want to be dannys fave luckily nobody other than riko knows about danny anyway there's actually .. a lot of lore for this technically the ship is riko/renee/aaron/jean/kevin the same way like in quarterhouse but fox unlike raven feels embarrassment and shame for pact actions and doe snot feel even allowed to look at the man

[aftgficrec]

Anonymous asked: anything around Wymack and Kevin having father son bonding or something like that.

Our fandom loves Dadmack! -A

NB: find the original ask here in this new twinyards bonding post

previous recs for Kevin & Wymack:

Kevin & Wymack 1 here

Kevin & Wymack 2/Kevin with a child here

post canon Kevin & Wymack here 

Wymack raising Kevin here

Kevin & Wymack paternity convo here

‘domestic bliss’ here

‘Somewhere Other Than Here’ here

‘the prince in the raven tower’ here

‘And Then There Was One’ here

‘How You Live On,’ ‘Missed Signs (accepting help),’ and ‘how did i get here’ here

‘A Record of Life,’ ‘Welcome,’ ‘Home,’ A Dad By Any Other Name’ and ‘Those days we rise above the stars’ here

‘Call it new’ here 

‘Searchlights’ here

you may also like:

‘Right Where It Begins’ here

‘The Way We Are’ (completed) here

‘Oh my Queen, we are here again’ (strained relationship) here

‘quicksand’ here

‘lionblood (flowin' through my veins)’ here

‘Made of Stone’ here

‘the name of the game’ here

‘The Cards We're Dealt’ (updated) here

Father’s Day, ‘08 by rekikiri [Rated G, 1717 Words, Complete, 2023]

twenty two years late, kevin finally gets to spend a fathers day with wymack.

tw: implied/referenced alcohol abuse/alcoholism

unexpected pride by teddy_writes_not_ted_talks [Rated T, 959 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 1 of Disability Pride Oneshots (etc), NB: part 8 is Wymack-centric 

Kevin Day struggles with staying grounded in a body that doesn't always feels like his. He learns that sometimes all you need to do is ask for help. The first in a series of Disability Pride Month fics.

tw: dissociation, tw: ptsd, tw: implied/referenced abuse

the lovers, the dreamers and me by dayurno [Rated G, 26315 Words, Complete, 2023]

“Coach,” Neil starts, parsing the words in his head to digest them into something more believable. Fortunately, before Neil further makes himself sound insane in front of his father-in-law, the door to Coach Wymack’s office swings open, revealing Andrew with a small child tangled in his legs. Andrew is as blank-faced as always, but the child peers at the room warily, his eyes big and green. Even without words to introduce him, they all know who this is. Coach Wymack audibly sucks in a breath. Alternatively, when the adult Kevin Day regresses in time to his six-year-old self, the Palmetto State Foxes are forced into a state of disarray. It is as the saying goes: it takes a village to raise a child.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: disordered eating

And I wanna kiss you, make you feel alright by Harmonique [Rated G, 3181 Words, Complete, 2023]

Part 3 of AFTG whump, part 2 here 

Kevin is sick, but it's fine. He's been raised in the Nest, he's not allowed to be weak. He'll be fine. (he won't :) )

tw: vomit, tw: nightmares, tw: implied/referenced abuse

Consequences of Coaching by Bookworm1063 [Rated G, 4812 Words, Complete, 2022]

Sometimes, the line between being an Exy coach and being a parent is very thin indeed. Or, five times Wymack was more father than coach, and one time being a coach had nothing to do with it.

Cats In The Cradle by emmerrr [Rated T, 2019 Words, Complete, 2017, Locked]

“Maybe you should go down there,” Abby says. “Keep him company for a little while.” David takes a long sip of his coffee without breaking eye-contact with Abby. She acts casual, but David knows what she’s getting at. “I’m sure he doesn’t want me getting in the way,” he says. “David,” Abby says gently, then seems to struggle to figure out what she wants to say next. “It’s just — have you spent any time with Kevin alone at all since finding out he was your son?”

an imperfect picture is still just right by belncaz [Rated T, 3784 Words, Complete, 2017]

After Wymack learns Kevin is his son, Kevin leaves to go on vacation with the other Foxes. Here's what I imagine happens on David's end as he grapples with a new part of his identity.

The truth in the dark by KweenKevin [Not Rated, 489 Words, Complete, 2018]

Part 3 of Does that make me crazy?, part 5 here

The truth is this: all Kevin ever learned was Exy, and were he used to play for his mother, he now a new person to play for

let me know what piece i've lost by orphan_account [Rated G, 799 Words, Complete, 2018]

Having a son was a new thing to Wymack. A new, very confusing thing. Kevin was a, and he would say this reluctantly through gritted teeth, fully grown adult.

An Understanding by wesawbears [Rated G, 730 Words, Complete, 2016]

The conversation between Kevin and Wymack when Kevin finally gives him the letter and tells him the truth in The King's Men.

trans Kevin and Dadmack prompt fill by @willowbird [Tumblr Fic, 2023]

Dad’s trip bullet fic by @jeanmoreaudefensesquad [Tumblr, 2022]

Sign language education! Dadmack by @this-is-my-main-i-follow-from [Tumblr, 2021]

wymack getting married and wanting to have another child + kevin’s reaction hc by @gthechangeling [Tumblr, 2020]

Kevin thoughts on his father meta by @robincross [Tumblr, 2017]

Art

let me and Andrew do the talking and My father comes to all of my games art by @rainbowd00dles

endless list of families-david wymack & kevin day edit by @mint-and-memories

They all deserve a different childhood art by @masslowart

#1 Dad and Dadmack art by @nerdzewordart

[sarah-sandwich]

Top 5 Creative Works of 2021

rules: it’s time to love yourselves! choose your 5 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2021. tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

Tagged by @playboyphilanthro-pissed

1) Peaches Ain't Pretty - Gen, Harley Keener-centric - 17k

Harley Keener and his sister Abbie have never had an easy life, but they've always had each other and that's enough. They'll make it be enough.

my beloved ❤ tbh I surprised the hell out of myself with this one. First of all, I was inspired to write it by Devil Town by Cavetown (specifically the version linked--the kid's got like 4 versions now lol). I actually had the idea for this when I first heard the song wwaaaaayyyyy back when I was posting Don't Freak Out in 2020 and working on the sequel, but at that time I was SO overwhelmed (with covid and posting fic for the first time in nearly 2 years, and writing that freaking sequel (haha see what i did?), and covid) so I just ignored the plot bunny and forgot about it. Fast forward to a year later, I started listening to the song again and the idea came back to me and I was like, okay okay I don't have anything better to do rn, I'll just jot down some ideas... Then like 3 days later I had a completed fic lol

BUT before I started, I knew I wanted it to have a certain tone (serious and at times heavy, but not depressing--i wanted those spots of light) and I wanted it to follow the Keeners from childhood to their coming of age into adulthood. Honestly I didn't know if I could pull that off. Writing from a child's perspective is hard. Writing an accent I don't have without making it obnoxious is hard. I'm so stinkin' happy with it though! It turned out as perfect as I could have asked for. It still blows me away when i reread it. Like woah I made that.

When I started writing it I was iffy about working towards a parkner ending bc I really wanted it to be only about the Keeners but I'm weak so that's where it ended up lol And now I'm posting the parkner sequel! Check out A Peach Like You (which technically I wrote in 2021 even though I'm only just now posting it, so it counts)

2) The Distance Between (You and Me) - parkner - 29k

When Pepper offered to begin training him to become CEO of Stark Industries, she warned Harley it would put a target on his back. He didn't take her seriously until after he'd been left chained and shivering in a dark hole for three days.

Rescued but with his kidnappers still at large, Tony recruits a bodyguard to shadow his every step and keep him safe until Tasha can hunt down his kidnappers. Harley isn't impressed. If he wasn't already at his wit's end muscling through nightmares, dissociative episodes, and pretending like he's handling everything like a champ then maybe he'd be able to figure out what exactly makes Peter Parker so special.

Ah the bodyguard AU. This one was so hard to write. Not bc of the fic, but bc of my head space. Real life took a nose dive and let's just say I had a pretty shitty time starting in May last year and it didn't really let up until, uh, November?? Writing felt impossible. I had all these big awful feelings and I couldn't set them aside in order to write. I've never been a vent writer and quite frankly idk how to be honest enough with myself to do that on purpose...

All that to say, it took A LOT to get this one down. Major thank you to everyone--@michellejones-stacy I'm looking at you in particular ily ❤--who cheered me on and shared their enthusiasm with me. It literally wouldn't have happened if I didn't know you guys were looking forward to it. Some days the only reason I pushed myself to write was bc of you so 🙌🎉✨🥰😭 thank you

But then when I finished it, it felt hollow, like I'd gone through the steps of writing but there was no soul in it. I didn't believe the feedback I got telling me it was good. It took until like... last month? When I finally read it fresh that I realized actually yeah, everyone was right and it is good! So I'm super proud of myself that this fic exists at all, but also I'm proud of how it turned out despite my challenges while writing it.

3) The Human Kind - parkner - 3.7k

“Your game of tag made the news again,” Miles says with a frown. “I don’t get why you won’t talk to him.”

“It’s more like hide-and-seek,” he says, not bothering to address the second statement as he pulls off his mask. They’ve been through that song and dance enough times they both know it by heart and it’s lost its spark.

“That’s not how it looks on TV. Looks like a lot of chasing and not a lot of counting.”

“Yet it always ends with me hiding and him giving up on seeking so—,” He waves his hand in a ‘there you have it’ fashion then hits the spider symbol on his suit.

Or: Spider-Man has a stalker but it's not what you think

This one. This one I tried to write angst lol and I hurt myself! So mission accomplished? I re-read this one recently and I'm really happy with it. It starts out light and there are questions laid out that you don't get immediate answers too, but you don't really worry about it bc it's Peter and he's quipping and making jokes and it's fun, right? Then it gets serious and that's when my feelings get hurt.

4) No Need to Rush - parkner - 5.3k

5 times Peter almost says I Love You (but Harley does instead) + 1 time they both say it

(Yes, it's a needlessly complicated take on this trope but it's my needlessly complicated take on this trope)

There's a comment on this fic that essentially calls this the perfect spiderlad fic and that's what pops into my head every time I think of it lmao it makes me realize that this is p much the only fic where I wrote established Iron Lad rather than the beginnings of Harley becoming Iron Lad. I adore this fic in it's own right, but that comment + this fic makes me really really really want to go all out with a spiderlad fic. Harley and Peter fighting side-by-side, the quips and banter, the hurt/comfort, the intrinsic understanding between them that no one else can touch because only they know exactly what they're facing day-in and day-out, partners in every sense of the word--I just *wistful sigh* I'm gonna write one for real, a full-sized fic, and that's that on that.

5) Undercover? I thought you said undercovers... - parkner - 3.7k

Peter and Harley are undercover at a black-tie event and get into a sticky situation

Not that kind of sticky! Get your head out of the gutter you dirty bird

This one is pure fun. I had a blast writing it and I adored all of the squeeing comments I got for it and I get a good laugh out of it every time I re-read it. It's the embodiment of bickering as a love language.

Tagging (with no pressure/if you're busy you're busy): @theoceanismyinkwell @queenofmoons @michellejones-stacy (will it let me tag you twice?? we'll find out) @writingamongther0ses @joyful-soul-collector and anyone else who wants to share their most special babies of 2021! Tag me so I can see 😊

[minikate--24-05]

Damn, so I just watched some clips from season one and two of NCIS and all that show back then was was Kibbs.

You are so right, anon. and the fact that you watching “some clips” can see it...unreal.

you see, anon, at the very beginning when Bellisario created the show, he had Kibbs in mind.

he wanted to find the actress with the best chemistry to flirt with Mark Harmon.

Also, he wrote the pilot, which is straight up blatant Kibbs flirting. And, given that he likes starting shows and then “leaving them”, as in, handing the leadership over to someone else, I think it’s worth taking a look at the other episodes he wrote.

Among them, we’ll find 1x16 (Ari, the bad guy who’s after Kate is introduced. he’s also linked to Gibbs at the end.), 1x23 (Ari kidnaps Kate and Gibbs is the first one to realize not only that she’s missing, but that Ari has her.) Half of season 2 took the Tate turn (the other half didn’t and that’s part of the reason why the season is a mess ship-wise, another reason is sexism but that’s a story for another day), wanna know how many eps did Bellisario write? 1. 2x22. There’s really nothing Kibbs in that episode but it does settle Tate as nothing more than siblings. They fight all the time, but in the end, they deeply care about each other. He then wrote 3x01 and 3x02, which show, among other things, Gibbs mourning Kate so heavily that he starts dissociating or whatever

remember this weird ass montage? lol. there are also demeaning Kate representations in those episodes, we don’t talk about those. but Gibbs’ Kate representations are interesting, because he’s subconsciously blaming himself for her death. (this thought belongs to @itbloomedforyourlittlegirl) Kate would NEVER blame him like that. but he feels guilty, because, as we saw in eps like 1x09 and 2x19, he’d rather die for her than let her die.

and he also wrote the hiatus episodes. remember how Gibbs got his memory back? THE LITERAL LAST FEW YEARS OF HIS LIFE UP UNTIL THAT POINT? Ziva said “Ari. Ari killed Kate.”

so let’s never forget that Donald Bellisario, the creator of NCIS, was rooting (writing) for Kibbs. 

I kinda forgot where I was going with this but the bottom line is, yes, it was all Kibbs back then because that was the purpose of the show. Kate was supposed to be The One for Gibbs, after 3 failed marriages (and no Shannon). and they wanted to play it slow burn, that’s why they introduced Tate during season 2 without stopping Kibbs (like I said, this season is a mix of ships). but then Sasha (rightfully so) decided to leave to focus on family (and maybe to stop working too many hours and being able to eat normally again. this is another story for another day but feel free to send more asks about these other stories). 

and it’s a shame people either forgot that or decided to ignore it. even though Kate was mentioned A LOT after her death, her relationship with Gibbs was never addressed, not even when she was alive. the more time passes the easier it would be for current NCIS writers (I believe there are still some OG producers in the team) to confirm Kibbs. we don’t need a happy ending. at this point, we don’t even need to hear that Kate was the only woman who Gibbs really loved. all we need to hear is “yes, they were involved.” and that’s it. it’s so, so easy. “Wh-...boss, you and Kate?” “Yeah, I thought y’all knew.” see? I just did it and I’m not even an amateur writer. 

they could do it on social media too. like. us Kibbs shippers will die with this ship in our hearts but there’s the bittersweet taste of it not being oficially canon. we know it was officially meant to be, but no one has ever confirmed it because that’s how romance is played in this show (McGee and Abby were really dating in season 1 and we never saw a date or a kiss. nothing.). but anyone from the directive/writing/producing team could go on twitter, and say “Gibbs was in love with Kate.” “Kate was in love with Gibbs.” “They were dating/They dated.” and it would make us so. fucking. happy. 

but they don’t, because a lot of them were brought in after season 2 (which means a lot of the original members were “fired”, story for another day number 3) and didn’t live through those first 2 years, and also because the Kibbs fandom is small and we don’t make as much noise as other fandoms. (but we’re just as passionate, and we may forgive, but we never forget.)

I’m kinda sorry this got so long, anon, but I kinda don’t. I hope this was useful to you and it made you part of the Kibbs fandom, or at least made you wanna watch Kate’s seasons. or even if you don’t like Kibbs, I think the first season is NCIS’ best season, so give it a try!

tl;dr: Kibbs was officially the OG ship of the show. a lot of behind the scenes drama happened (you can ask me about it). the kibbs fandom is cute af and we’ll be waiting for the Kibbs confirmation until the day we die.

[romanbridgers]

Abbie Mills for the playlist meme.

1. James Horner - An Apparition in the Fields 

[instrumental]

2. The Mountain Goats - Psalms 40:2

he has fixed his sign in the sky he has raised me from the pit and set me high

3. Joseph Arthur - Honey and the Moon

don't know why i'm still afraid if you weren't real i would make you up now i wish that i could follow through i know that your love is true, and deep, as the sea

4. Timber Timbre - Dissociation

come lay down come lay down in the tall grass with me and let vengeance nourish your final hour surrender all your good intent you'll go back, you'll go back you'll go all the way back down

5. Arcade Fire - It’s Never Over (Hey Orpheus)

oh orpheus, eurydice it's over too soon

[foxsoulcourt]

Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard Characters: Neil Josten, Andrew Minyard, Aaron Minyard, Nicky Hemmick, Kevin Day, Betsy Dobson, Abby Winfield Additional Tags: Sick Character, Hospitals, Angst with a Happy Ending, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Dissociation, Surgery, Sick Neil Josten, it's appreciate aaron minyard o'clock, andrew minyard is a doting asshole bf, Post-Canon Summary:

Neil is sick and it's fine until it's not.

There's a lot of soup.

Bookmarker's Notes:

I LOVE THIS WORK! The relationship dynamics between all the characters are great - often poignant, yet just as often funny to hilarious. It's wonderful to watch Aaron, Andrew + Neil grow from where they are in ch 1 to how they are woven together in ch 3. Lovely to see Aaron take tentative steps into his chosen field, even when it terrifies him; fun to see him get a practical push from Neil. Speaking of Neil OMG: @imperfectcourt does an amazing job showing us how Neil reacts when scared, recovering from anesthesia + under the influence of Andrew Minyard in shorts. Great story; ENJOY!

[osleyakomwonkru]

Blog Summary Tag Game

Find your fandom kru and help them find you. Answer the following and include the tag #the100blog in your answer, then tag some of the blogs you follow. @johnmurphysreddit came up with this idea, I’m here via @blodreina-noumou

1. What are your primary topics?

As the username will imply, everything surrounding Octavia Blake. Lots and lots of meta. So much meta. I will have a story behind every action she takes. I’m especially concerned about her mental state, so that comes up a lot. She needs help not hate. This is why I decided to create The 100 Mental Health Awareness Week, which I encourage everyone to participate in with their favourite characters next week.

Also, same username on AO3, where I have over 100k of Octavia-centric fanfic.

Occasionally I make photoedits. Not much in the way of GIFs yet, I’m still trying to figure out a way how to make them (I managed one, but that was only because I found a phone app and could use a shot from the trailer). If anyone can tell me how to make that happen from episodes and on a computer, that would be awesome.

2. What tags should a visitor check?

Well, I’m a fairly new Tumblr user, so just a scroll-through will tell you what you need. Most of my meta is tagged with #the 100 meta but not all of it will be, especially the earlier posts.

I tag anti posts (usually anti-Bellamy/Kane/Abby), but I also have perhaps an unpopular opinion as to what constitutes “anti”. “Anti” is deliberate hateposting about a character. Facts are not “anti”. Disliking someone and pointing out their mistakes is not “anti”. If you come to my blog and find the facts uncomfortable, that’s your issue, not mine.

I also need a lesson on how to reblog things. I very very rarely reblog, and only if I’ve got something to add. I know the attribution is there and everything, but reblogging makes me uncomfortable because it feels like I’m taking credit for someone else’s work. Which is why most of what you’ll find on my blog is my own work. Someone please tell me that reblogging is fine and cool and encouraged so that I do it more.

3. What do you love about The 100?

All the moral questions and ambiguity. That’s the main thing. I love that there’s so much complexity, so many impossible questions, and yet somehow people still have to answer them.

I love the pain. I love the anguish. But I also want love, I want healing, I want peace.

I also love that this show includes so much diversity - sexuality, race, ability, age, etc. - and that it just exists, naturally, and that’s the world. A world where the -isms of our time no longer exist, and people can just be and focus on different struggles.

My favourite living characters are Octavia, Niylah, Jackson, Echo and Murphy.

My favourite ships are Linctavia, Niytavia and Mackson.

4. What do you hate/what frustrates you about The 100?

Two big things, mostly in the fandom:

1. Ship wars. Particularly the Clexa/Bellarke/Becho triangle, because I have absolutely no emotional investment in any of those ships. I could care less who Clarke or Bellamy are fucking. Plus I love that romance is not the focus of the show, there’s so much more to life than just romance.

2. Hypocrisy. This exists both in-world and in-fandom. They’ve all done all sorts of horrible things, for various reasons, but only some characters *cough*Octavia*cough* get shit on for it by everyone. I’m sick of it.

My least favourite living characters are Kane, Abby and Bellamy.

My NOTPs are Clexa and Kabby.

5. Is this exclusively a The 100 blog?

Yes! And I’m dearly looking for other The 100-exclusive pro-Octavia blogs to follow.

6. What else should people know?

Umm, I like chocolate? I don’t know. Like, reblog, message me to rant about Octavia, it’s cool. I like in-depth discussions about stuff, especially Octavia. You don’t have to agree with me on all things, but you do need to be able to have a rational conversation.

I am a self-avowed Octavia stan, but that doesn’t mean I agree with or follow her blindly. I just happen to believe she’s right most of the time. I also heavily consider her mental state in just about everything she does, because yes, it matters, and if she were sane, there were some choices she’s made that she wouldn’t have. She’s a beautiful and powerful badass, but she’s also horrifically broken and needs understanding and empathy from the people around her (as a start) so that she can begin to heal. I believe she has severe depression and PTSD, she’s been a death seeker and alternately actively/passively suicidal since season 4, and also has minor cases of DID (dissociative identity disorder) and/or BPD (borderline personality disorder). Among potentially others.

Mental health: It matters. Especially for her, and that’s one of the reasons why I can’t help but empathize with her. Why I want better things for her. Why I want her to be able to live, not just survive.

Tag some blogs... umm... @easilydistractedbyfanfic @pro-octaviablake @apocalyptist ... I’m bad at tagging people. Go for it, if you want to.

[xfdeath]

Ship: Tania and Abe

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? - long enough that Abe will most certainly outlive her, tbh. 

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - It’s slow actually. Abe’s trying to adjust to being a Horseman without an apocalypse, and for a while neither one of them are thinking about that kind of thing. They’re both just trying to live. 

How was their first kiss? - By the time he gets his head back it was a long time coming. 

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Abe does, but oddly enough not seriously. He did the serious thing once, and it didn’t take. He didn’t accept her to accept.

Who is the best man/men? - Technically Ichabod, but you won’t hear Abe admit it.

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? - Abbie and Jenny probably. Tania’s social circle is limited. 

Who did the most planning? - Abe tried to overplan, Tania shut him down.

Who stressed the most? - Abe.

How fancy was the ceremony? - Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big. (Tania wanted to do it in Vegas, Abe shut her down. “I’m not getting married by a fucking Elvis impersonator” were his exact words.”)

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Ichabod initially, Tania guilted Abe into rescinding it. 

Sex:

Who is on top? - Not Tania’s lazy ass that’s for sure. 

Who is the one to instigate things? - Abe usually, to the point that if Tania does he becomes instantly suspicious. (”What did you do/what ridiculous thing do you want me to do?”)

How healthy is their sex life? - Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

How kinky are they? - Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head (Tania had her hypersexual kinky phase in college, she finds those things to be too much effort.)

How long do they normally last? - It actually stretches out, not because of say endurance but because of the way Abe’s body works w/ stagnated blood flow he uh...needs some extra time.

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? -  As long as everyone had a good time and enjoyed themselves no one cares.

How rough are they in bed? -Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? - No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory. (It actually depends, Tania literally tends to space out sometimes, not because she’s uninterested or something but just because her brain does things so there’s times where she’s literally off to the next thing/something she thought of in the middle of it without so much as ‘good job’ slap on the ass smh)

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - 0 (Tania had a hysto when she was in her early 20′s due to medical issues)

How many children will they adopt? - Probably none unless something really unusual comes up. Tania likes kids but she doesn’t want to exchange her lifestyle for them.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - If they did it would be Abe. 

Who is the stricter parent? - Abe again. 

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Tania. Abe would forget the kid isn’t just a mini horseman tbh. 

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Abe. 

Who is the more loved parent? - Neither?? It would be equal.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Tania. Abe would most likely get banned from the school. (”FIGHT ME, KAREN. ALSO YOUR BROWNIES ARE SHIT.”)  

Who cried the most at graduation? - Neither. 

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - That would straight up be on Abbie or Ichabod tbh. 

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Abe!! Tania tends to forget to eat and then not have the spoons/energy to do more than microwave meals and frankly, it offends him. 

Who is the most picky in their food choice? - Abe. He waited 250 some odd years to be able to eat again dammit he doesnt care he doesn’t need to.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Abe. Tania can’t be trusted to buy anything other than junk. 

How often do they bake desserts? - Often. Abe overbakes. 

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Abe makes sure they have balanced diets. Yes, he sees the irony since he doesn’t need one.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Abe. Complete with Tania forgetting the anniversary, not picking up on the clues and straight up asking “what’s the candles dude?”

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Tania. They’re literally the “can we get mcdonalds?/we have food at the house/i hate this fucking family” meme tbh

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - T a n i a. 

Chores:

Who cleans the room? - Abe usually just because for a long time he can’t do much outside the apartment between the headless thing and the sun thing, and he wants to have something to do. 

Who is really against chores? - Neither. Tania can let stuff pile up out of forgetfulness/executive dysfunction, but she’s not against it. 

Who cleans up after the pets? - It’s equal. 

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Tania. 

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Neither really tbh.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Abe. A dollar, shotgun shells, his head, who knows what the fuck that couch is hiding tbh.

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Tania. Them sweet, sweet dissociation showers. 

Who takes the dog out for a walk? - Tania. 

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Tania fucking loves the holidays so she goes all out. 

What are their goals for the relationship? - “Don’t start the apocalypse, don’t get Abe beheaded again, maybe don’t get shot while doing PI work” 

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? - Tania. She has a weird sleep schedule and cycles between staying up for days and then crashing for as long. 

Who plays the most pranks? - Tania. Abe gets in on it eventually though. 

[official-impravidus]

Hi! Parkner Anon Event person here! So the day 2 prompt is favorite fanwork made by you so I went and stalked your AO3 page :) I've actually read or seen around quite a few of your works already. I've been meaning to read The Proposal, but I suffer from really bad second hand embarrasment so I've also been unsure, lol. I absolutely adore your Marvelous Misunderstanding series, Spideyplays was a fun read, and I've actually read Lingering Memories and Loathing (Unadalterated Loathing) before (1/3)

(2/3-4) and really enjoyed both! I tend not to read a lot of angst for mental health reasons. I found out that listening to/reading sad things made my mental health worse. Once I stopped doing that (and stopped isolating myself) my mental health improved, so I didn't delve into your angsty works beyond Lingering Memories. While a few fics wouldnt have had a lasting affect, I don't want to fall back into the rabbit hole of reading angst.

(3/4) You are a crazy good writer with awesome characterizations so I have no doubt that they're awesome. Day 3: favorite Parkner headcanons. Idek, I really like domestic Parkner where they just sorta bake and sit around and banter. I really love their banter and sass, lmao. Also, I love how the entire fandom has decided that they're both complete dumbasses, and one of them is always slightly more functional than the other although the more functional one varies from person to person.

(4/4) Also, I like the idea that they share a lab and do projects together and assist each other in making Tony's life a living hell, lmao. Idk. I have a lot of feelings, lmao Sorry I talk a lot and I think I forgot to make my last ask (the last two, possibly) anon so I think the cat is out of the bag already but oh well. Just pretend I didnt do that until the end of the event please lmao. I am such a mess

First of all, wow! Thank you so much for taking the time to read my works. I totally understand the angst thing because I’m a bit of a hypochondriac so when I read something about mental health (especially suicide, dissociation, or depression) it triggers something in me. I write angst because I feel it, but I know it is hard to read for some. I’m so glad that you’ve distanced yourself from angst to better yourself. That’s very important and it’s a big step. My other angsty fics (Good For You and In The Bedroom Down The Hall) were songfics so if you’re a fan of Dear Evan Hansen, it’s basically just inserting May and Peter into the plot. I really appreciate your kind words. 

Dude I LIVE for domestic shit. I’m so excited to delve more into that kind of stuff in the sequel to Loathing. It’s so fun to write, especially with playful banter and bickering. I love that Harley and Peter in the fandom have one braincell and usually it’s not even in them, it’s in Tony or Abby. Also sharing the lab?? LOVE THAT SHIT. I have something like that in the sequel as well and it’s HELLA.

Also yeah you didn’t make one of them anon but I won’t check out your account. Also I have the memory of a senile goldfish so I probably won’t even remember by the end of the week.

Thank you for taking the time to type that all out! Sorry if I’m totally also typing too much haha. (If you can’t tell, this is typed on my computer, not my phone, hence the nice capitlization)

Have a great day!