The Femme With Big Brown Eyes And Pouty Lips WILL Save You Btw

"There's no way Abby looks like this. Totally unrealistic."

Beyond the functional aspect of her survival training, her daily life is a rigorous workout that mimics a lot of what you’d see in strength training. Combine intense physical activity with a nutritious diet and Abby’s discipline (and trauma responses)—voila. You’ve got yourself one badass military woman.

We're not even considering her genetics, which can pack a serious punch, too.

You can find nearly any type of sustainable food source at the stadium—fish, meat, cheese, eggs, milk, beans, rice, fruits, vegetables, you name it. She has access to calorie dense, protein-rich foods every day. And that's before taking into account the balanced, resourceful meals the cooks could create to maximize the food supply using various recipes.

I'd bore you with the approximate specifics of Abby’s dietary needs for muscle maintenance, but it’s way more fun to explore the game's world instead.

I highly recommend it, even. There’s so much to take in.

Yeah, it's kinda subtle in places, but many parts are really in your face.

An example of this? Isaac doesn't sweat losing a hatchery to the Seraphites. He’s confident the wild salmon they’re fishing will keep them covered. You just can't make that call when your soldiers are starving, in my opinion.

I don't want to randomly assume that most men who hate Abby are super salty about women who are more muscular than them, but... based on some of the reviews and gameplay reactions, holy guacamole.

"It's not about her being muscular!" Yeah, okay.

(Proceeds to mock her physical appearance forever.)

The fragile male ego is poppin', man.

Abby thinks dudes like this need to stop skipping leg day and grow a pair. 😏

"i don't have a type!" i say, adding another big, buff woman to the collection of women i like

my favorite girl ever

ufc!au Abby

you don’t wanna cross her on the cage, believe me

omg why did that suck so bad??

let me say the pros first:

young mazino jesse is growing on me. he gets that responsible/sarcastic thing that game jesse has. and the fact that he is shown taking care of all of them in the end is very in character and nice for us to see.

gabriel luna once again slays as tommy. that kiss with maria, the longing???? god. i love him.

the fighting in jackson was a cool idea, would have enjoyed playing a sequence like that in the game, but overall the change hurts more than it helps.

okay that's about it for what i liked lmao! the cons:

where is my pot smoking lesbian love scene. what the fuck.

kaitlyn dever looks like a little kid, genuinely. and so does bella ramsey. kaitlyn has more emotional range than bella but neither of them can carry that rage and heartbreak. neither of them are raw and brutal like they are in the game. they're both trying too hard and it shows.

everything that was changed from the game was worse, and i believe that with my whole heart. why wasn't tommy with joel? the reason tommy goes as psycho as he does it because of the grief he has from introducing joel to abby. why didn't we get dina/ellie patrol route to further solidify their relationship? dina being at the lodge made no sense and added exactly nothing to the plot. why was ellie going to jump right back into patrols with joel? in the game she barely even spoke with him before he died, but in the show apparently they're good enough to just hang out now???

The Scene™ was simply not executed as masterfully as in the game. like, if it ain't broke, don't fix it. the colors were off (where is my cold, dark, shadowed death scene?), the stab was fucking pathetic compared to game abby's yell and final blow, owen didn't get a chance to do his "if we kill them we're no better than he is" which actually gives him a character trait. abby spent wayyyy too much time explaining everything to joel. and joel is like. crying? instead of spitting mad and sneering his way towards a death he always knew was coming. where's the RAGE???? it's all sanitized and therapy-speak and big feelings and sad girls and weak old men. it just doesn't hit as hard.

the show is trying so hard to make us sympathize with abby, even more than the game, and it's so forced as to feel stupid. also, side note, why is she housewifing for owen? she's a bitch to him in the game and i like that about her. why is she rubbing his arms and making him soup or whatever? not my muscle mommy.

no "bigot sandwich" line???? best line in the whole game???

anyways those are my thoughts, i'm sure i'll have more, but come talk with me about them if you want!

This but butchxfemme

abby anderson x reader smut 𐙚

soft!abby / switch!abby x fem!reader /afab

cw: nsfw, slow lesbian sex, spitting, ✄

-mdni pls! 18+

・—— ・ ୨୧ ・—— ・ ・—— ・ ୨୧ ・—— ・

The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a bedside lamp. Outside, it had started to rain— light and steady, a soothing hush against the windows. The air in Abby's room felt thick with something unspoken— anticipation, yes, but more than that, trust. The soft patter of rain against the windows filled the space, a quiet rhythm that seemed to echo the thrum of your heart.

You were curled beside Abby in bed, wearing one of her old shirts with one leg tucked over hers, your hand resting gently on her bare stomach. Your touch lingered there, unmoving, like you were trying to ground yourself. Abby laid beside you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and finally your lips — slow and gentle, like you had all the time in the world. Her hands framed your jaw as she deepened the kiss just slightly, savoring the feeling.

Abby didn't push. She never did. Every kiss was patient. Every touch asked for permission. She never took what you didn't offer freely.

"I want you," you whispered. Your voice trembled, but not with fear — with emotion. "All of me... it's yours. If you want it."

Abby nodded slowly, then leaned in to press a kiss to your temple - no rush, no pressure, just the press of lips that said I'm here, as she reached up to gently tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

When your mouths met, it was soft. Exploratory. Not hungry, but intentional. Abby kissed you like a promise, like she had all the time in the world. No expectations, just warmth. You melted into it, hands sliding up Abby's shoulders, drawing her closer, breathing her in— that familiar scent of pine and rain and something uniquely Abby. It calmed your nerves like nothing else.

Abby's thumb brushed gently over your cheekbone, her hand cupping the side of your face. The warmth of her touch alone made your eyes flutter shut, overwhelmed not by fear, but by how safe you felt. Abby leaned in, kissing you softly, lips brushing yours with affection, no rush behind it— just patience, and presence.

"You don't have to be nervous," Abby whispered, her breath warm against your mouth. "I'm not going anywhere."

"I know," you said, a little breathless.

Abby's voice was low, near a whisper. "I just wanna love you the right way."

And she did. She kissed every part of you she was allowed to— your collarbone, the curve of your shoulder, the soft dip beneath your ear. Each touch was patient, asked for with quiet looks, and granted with shy nods. Your breath would hitch, then settle, each time you gave permission. Your skin warmed under Abby's hands, softening beneath her like you were unfolding for the first time in years.

There was no fumbling, no rush. Just soft sighs and shivery exhales. Abby traced slow, careful paths across your skin— nothing more than the pads of her fingers, and sometimes her mouth, learning what made you relax, what made you laugh a little, what made your eyelids flutter shut with a tremble of trust. She cradled your face like something precious, her thumbs stroking soft arcs against your cheeks.

Her touch was full of intention— adoration, unhurried. She didn't rush past the layers. She traced your skin with her hands and her lips, memorizing the soft parts of you, the scar beneath your ribs, the slope of your hip, the tiny mole behind your knee. She kissed your thighs and told you you were beautiful. She whispered, "Tell me what you need.”

Abby guided you down against the pillows, climbing over you carefully, legs tangling as you laid back. Her hands never roaming without permission, every touch was intentional, soft, grounding. She kissed along your throat, your collarbone, the edge of your shoulder, feeling your breath stutter beneath her.

She whispered as she went, anchoring you with her words. "You're safe. You're mine. You're beautiful."

Your fingers clutched gently at Abby's sides, your body humming with nerves and anticipation, but not fear. There was something tender in the way you looked up at Abby— wide open, no defenses left.

Abby took her time, kissing you slowly as her hand trailed downward, slipping her hand under the hem of your shirt, pausing. "Can I?"

You nodded, cheeks flushed, voice barely audible. "Yes. Please."

Abby pushed the fabric up inch by inch, revealing smooth skin and the subtle rise and fall of your chest. She took a moment just to look at you — the flushed pink in your cheeks, the nerves in your eyes. She leaned down and pressed a kiss between your breasts, then over the swell of one, her hand resting lightly just below.

Her hand moved lower, fingers brushing along your stomach before settling between your thighs. She paused again, waiting for the nod, the quiet, "Yes," that you gave her. A soft gasp left you as she touched you, your back arching slightly, legs parting to invite her in.

Abby kissed you again as she slid her fingers down and found you already warm, aching, ready. Gently, she traced against your skin, just the lightest touch, until your hips tipped forward instinctively. She kissed you through it, tongue slipping into your mouth in a slow, careful rhythm that matched the movement of her hand.

You whimpered softly when Abby slipped a finger inside— slow, smooth, filling you just enough to make your breath hitch. Abby kept it gentle, curling her finger as she kissed the curve of your throat, your jaw, your lips again. She added a second finger when you asked for it, her other hand cradling your cheek like you were something precious.

Abby took her time. She whispered how good you were doing, how beautiful you looked, how proud she was of you. Her fingers were gentle but sure, moving with a rhythm that gradually built as she listened to your breath, your little gasps, the shaky way you whispered her name.

"You feel so good," Abby whispered, voice low, lips brushing your ear. "You're doing so well, baby."

You body tensed for a moment — but Abby kissed you just then, slow and anchoring, and you relaxed into it, into her. You let your head fall back against the pillow, thighs parting wider on their own, and let yourself feel.

Your voice was breathy, barely there. "Don't stop."

Abby didn't. She reached one hand between them to tilt your chin up, thumb brushing over your lower lip.

"Open your mouth for me," she said, voice husky.

Your lips parted. Abby held your gaze, then let a slow stream of spit fall onto your tongue. You whimpered, eyes fluttering closed, heat rushing through you as you swallowed.

She moved her fingers with a patient rhythm, listening to every sound you made — the quiet moan, the stuttered breath, the way your hips rolled into her touch. When her thumb brushed against your clit you gasped, your hand grabbing at Abby's forearm.

"Shh, I've got you," Abby whispered, kissing you again, "Come on, sweetheart. Let go for me."

You were trembling now, hips moving without thought, chasing it. Abby pressed her forehead to yours as she brought you higher, never once breaking contact, grounding you every second. You came with a soft cry, legs trembling, body arching beneath Abby as pleasure crested through you — not sharp or overwhelming, but deep, slow and controlled. You curled into Abby's arms immediately after, face buried in her neck like you never wanted to let go.

When it passed, Abby kissed your forehead, brushing sweaty hair from your face. "You okay?" she asked, voice low, eyes searching.

You nodded, smiling as you tried to catch your breath. "I didn't know I could feel safe like that. I didn't know sex could... feel like that."

Abby leaned in, nose brushing yours. "It's not just sex. It's us." She held you, arms wrapped around you, letting you melt into her chest.

When you finally stirred, cheeks still pink, voice a little shy, you whispered, "Lie down. Let me touch you, too."

"You don't have to-"

"I want to," you said, with just a touch of certainty in your voice now. "Let me take care of you."

Abby lay back as you curled beside her, tracing fingers down her ribs, her stomach, watching every reaction with quiet care. It was slower still, more exploratory, but filled with just as much intention. Offering her trust back, not only in words, but through every soft kiss, every shaky breath, and every time you whispered, "I want to make you feel safe too."

You shifted her gently, laying Abby back against the pillows, slowly moving over her, hands skimming across her warm, freckled skin, every muscle relaxed, open, steady. Her breath caught when you kissed along her collarbone, teeth grazing gently before your tongue soothed the spot. Taking your time, memorizing everything, brushing your mouth over Abby's throat, the swell of her chest, the strong lines of her stomach. Your hands were mindful, always watching for even the smallest change in Abby's breathing, the smallest flutter in her eyes.

When you finally slipped your fingers between her thighs, your touch was delicate, achingly gentle— learning what Abby liked, what made her shift, what made her sigh your name. She let out a breathy, soft sigh, her fingers tightening in your hair. She wasn't used to being the one held like this, touched like this, like she was precious. But you gave her that, slow and purposeful, lips and hands moving with a kind of gentleness she hadn't been shown before.

You moved with a rhythm that wasn't rushed, intentional, syncing your own breath to Abby's as you eased in slowly, curling your fingers and finding that spot that made Abby's hips twitch. Abby let out a breathy moan, one arm thrown over her eyes as if the feeling was too much as you kissed her shoulder and whispered, "I've got you.” Your mouth was never far from Abby's skin — murmuring things you weren’t brave enough to say in the light of day. I love you. You're safe. You deserve this.

And you meant it. When Abby came, it was quiet and deep — her body arching up, breath stuttering, your name on her lips like a prayer. Abby's breath caught, hips twitching up as she came undone beneath her, voice catching on a low, "Fuck, baby-"

You kissed the edge of her hip as you slowed your movements, not pulling away until Abby was completely spent beneath her. You crawled back up, draping yourself carefully across Abby's chest, heart thudding in tandem with hers. Abby's arms immediately wrapped around you, holding you close.

You stayed like that for a while, silent, breathing together. And then you pressed a kiss to the middle of her chest, eyes fluttering shut. "You make me feel safe," you said softly.

Abby kissed your hair. "You are safe."

And for the first time in a long time, you believed it. Wrapped up in each other, hearts exposed and unguarded, you found something neither of you thought you’d ever get to have— healing that telt like love.

The sheets were a mess. You laid sprawled and breathless, skin flushed and still tingling from the way Abby had taken you apart. But your eyes never left Abby's face - her flushed cheeks, the wild strands of hair stuck to her forehead, the slight tremble in her arms.

You eached out and brushed your knuckles down Abby's stomach. "Again?"

Abby gave a lazy, crooked smirk, like she was going to argue, always hesitant, always putting you first.

But you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her jaw as you pushed yourself up and gently straddled one of Abby's thighs, easing the other between your own. Your bodies slotted together easily, slick heat meeting slick heat, thighs sliding into place with instinctual precision. The contact was immediate— teasing, electric.

Abby's eyes darkened. "Fuck," she murmured, already shifting to grind back against you. "You're soaked."

"So are you." you leaned in and kissed her, deeper now, slower, one hand cupping the side of her neck, the other holding her hip steady.

She started slow, rocking her hips forward, letting their bodies slide together in a messy, wet rhythm that made them both gasp. Your hand clenched at the sheets, your other gripping Abby’s thigh. She looked up at you like she was in awe — like you’d hung the moon and were now crashing it directly into her.

Your hips moved in tandem, slow and grinding, the friction delicious — slippery, messy, intimate. Every shift of your bodies drew a new gasp, a new moan, a new wave of sensation as your clits slid and rubbed with increasing pressure.

You kept your eyes on Abby's, your voice a low whisper between gasps. "You feel so good against me, babe."

Abby's lips parted around a moan, her head tipping back as her legs spread wider, instinctively trying to give more. Your clits met again and again with every glide, every messy thrust of hips. The pressure built steadily — the intimacy of it made it even heavier.

You dragged your nails down Abby’s back, gasping when she shifted the angle just slightly, making every movement rub directly against the most sensitive spot.

Abby whimpered as you kissed her jaw, her cheek, her mouth and you felt the shiver pass through you.

You let your hand slide along Abby's ribs, then up to cup her chest, pulling her in closer with a quiet whimper. "Fuck, Abs-"

Abby grinned against your lips. "You gonna come for me like this?"

You nodded again, breathless, your whole body trembling. "Don't stop."

"I'm not," Abby murmured, rolling her hips harder now, moving faster, chasing it with you. "Come for me, baby. Let me see you."

The pace quickened, not frenzied but desperate in a softer way — the kind of urgency that came from needing more closeness, not more speed. Her legs trembled, thighs flexing as your legs pushed against each other, slick with arousal, breathing heavy and open-mouthed against one another.

Your hands found each other's faces in the last stretch, lips barely brushing as you gasped, trembling and moaning into each other's mouths as the waves hit, twin releases cresting at once. You cried out, low and guttural, your hand gripping Abby’s shoulder as your body locked up, thighs shaking, back arching. The orgasm hit in a slow, rolling wave— the kind that left you gasping and open and utterly undone. Your body shuddered against Abby's, and Abby's grip on you tightened, holding you close, both of you panting.

Abby didn't stop right away. She rode it out with you, grinding down until you whimpered from overstimulation, clutching her tightly, your foreheads pressed together, sweat-damp skin sliding.

When it was over, you collapsed against her, and she wrapped both arms around you, holding you close, still trying to catch her breath. You stayed tangled, legs still pressed together, hearts pounding in sync, skin damp and flushed. You buried her face in Abby's neck as she breathed, pressing a kiss into your hair.

When you finally settled under the sheets together, skin still humming, you curled into Abby's chest. Abby held you there, her arm firm around your back, her chin resting in your hair.

"Thank you," you murmured, thumb brushing Abby's ribs where her heart beat steady.

Abby kissed your forehead. "You never have to thank me for being gentle with you." she whispered, holding you tighter, pulling the blankets over both of you, wrapping you up in warmth and safety.

You stayed like that for awhile, tangled in warmth and affection, drifting off with hands still clasped beneath the sheets.

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ahh okay that was my first time writing something like this and i’m honestly nervous about how this is gonna be perceived lmao but if you guys liked it i may be able to be persuaded to post more…

dt: @electricneonvalkyrie ✮⋆˙ since you dared me to

A look into the firearms used by the WLF

1: Although never seen in the hands of other WLF fighters, Abby’s choice in rifle is a VEPR HAMMER chambered in .308. The VEPR is a semi auto rifle primarily used for hunting. Part of the AK family the VEPR is a reliable and trustworthy man stopper.

2: The WLF is commonly seen wielding the Remington 700 bolt action rifle also chambered in .308. Remington is a trustworthy brand and it’s normally pretty hard to fuck up a bolt action, simple action, easy to clean and maintain, powerful cartridge, it’ll put down an infected or scar in a well placed shot from the chest or above.

3: Many WLF soldiers can be seen using the SIG P226, a common sidearm used by police in the United States, the P226 is a trusted and reliable 9mm semi automatic handgun, it’s made by snarky Europeans so it has to be good right?

4: A personal favorite of mine, the Taurus .357. A revolver made in Brazil, some fighters prefer a revolver, easier to clean and maintain, a lot less likely to jam than a semi auto would.

5: The Remington 870, one of the most mass produced shotguns ever made, the ones in the hands of the WLF have been cut down, the stock shaved off and the barrel shortened, most likely done to be able to get in and out of vehicles quicker if need be, or simply by personal choice, if there’s an infected coming at you there’s nothing better than a short BoomStick.

6: The rifle of choice for most of the WLF. The Rugar Mini-14, the mini 14 is a sporting rifle chambered in 5.56, there’s a lot of them in Washington state because of the strict gun laws, when you can’t get an AR15 this is the next best thing.

7: (Concept Art) A WLF soldier can be seen wielding a CAR-15 a shortened down AR15, most likely was picked up after the war with FEDRA.

8: (concept art) A WLF soldier wields an AKM pattern rifle, most likely a Romanian WASR-10 or other civilian derivatives, highly doubt its a military select fire one.

Do you think Abby's mother had died or left them? what's your headcanon on that? Just curious :)

i love this question!! i think about it a lot.

i personally think she passed during childbirth or when abby was reallyyy young, like under the age of 2. i say that because there’s no photos of her with them and jerry + abby don’t talk about her at all. i would like to think that even if abby’s mom and jerry had some type of relationship issue she wouldn’t just up and leave abby’s life. if she was a firefly as well, she could have very easily been shot in combat, but being bit or getting sick is also a possibility! all i know is that abby and jerry have been attached at the hip for pretty much her whole life, he was her best friend. so that leads me to believe it’s been just them for a long time. i don’t have a definitive answer but that’s just my interpretation, i always love hearing other ideas too :)

i’m not sure if you’ve seen it already but in case anyone reading this hasn’t, i did an analysis on how abby growing up without a mom would have affected her and shaped her into the person she is 🫶🏼 linked here