#so we're onto cautiously optimistic but leaning towards 'she's likely to come back' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

killbaned · 2 months

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the chicken is in the oven. i was originally going to just. use butter and salt because i'm scared if i use my seasonings it's going to make the gastritis go sicko mode but i can't. i can't fucking make bare seasonless chicken i can't FUCKING DO IT i'd rather starve.

i did, however, select only three seasonings (basil, parsley, poultry) out of the mix along w sea salt and butter so we'll see what happens.

i bought myself some of those knock off gluten free thin mints when i did my errands monday so i just munched on some of those for a sugar boost bc once again. i did not eat anything before i left the house.

in my defense, i literally couldn't have eaten even if someone tried to force me bc The Gastritis Is Gassing.

and also speaking of food regarding mom, she also said the food at the new rehab is decent. hospital food will never be "good" and her lunch came while i was there and their version of scalloped potatoes looked dry as fuck but i also asked if she wants me to bring leftovers when i come tomorrow and she said no since the food is good enough so that's also nice.

it's nice because these are all things that led to her flipping out repeatedly until she finally went AMA last time.

it's also nice because i feel like i can unclench a little and relax and not obsessively sit on my phone waiting for her to call losing her fucking mind about it.

oh also the new place has actual security features. you have to get buzzed in to enter, you have to sign in, you're given a visitor pass, and you have to get buzzed out.

the place she was at here just had an automatic front door and nothing else. which. i will be honest i stopped by a few times after work and i was like.

huh. kinda don't like you can just walk in at 1030PM or later and like no one is around or gives you a second glance. like what if there's a freak around who wants to bother vulnerable old people???

#anyway. weirdly enough i DO think she's maybe. beginning to realize i'm not like. making shit up when i'm expressing #concern about her mobility and cognition. bc someone asked her if she drives and she said she told them not in a couple years #and i was like 'it's been since at least 2018 since you last drove' and she said 'no i was still driving when we first got down here'#and i said 'yeah and it's been almost ten years. we got here in 2014. it'll be 10 years in october.'#and i could genuinely see like. the light bulb come on in her brain with her realizing she's forgetting more stuff than she thought #so again i'm keeping my expectations tempered bc frankly if i don't and shit goes south again i will fucking kermit and i'm not joking #the rug gets yanked from under me again like it did last time and i will not be able to control the melt down that comes from it #so we're onto cautiously optimistic but leaning towards 'she's likely to come back'#the optimism is regarding having proper resources if/when she comes back that makes it less of my problem #which lmao. she uh. kinda bombed the initial cognition test apparently. not an 'oh shit' kind of bombing but enough that like #they'll see what i'm talking about wrt her memory.

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electricbluebutterflies · 7 years

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Kabby - we're gonna die in 6 months so wth

Not exactly what I think is actually gonna HAPPEN in s4, but a fun little scenario nonetheless. NSFW (obvs) and also posted on AO3.

They’re running out of time.

Try as she might to convince herself otherwise, convince herself that there is still hope, Abby just can’t find the strength. She’s optimistic, not delusional, and this crosses lines. As hard as everyone is working to prevent it, the world is probably going to end in a matter of months, and this time she chooses to accept the inevitable.

And if she’s gonna die soon anyways, she figures, then that justifies a few choices she normally wouldn’t make.

She wanted to wait, okay? Before, when she thought there was time, the slow romancing of Marcus Kane looked an awful lot like a multi-year project. Move by inches, not miles. Get used to kissing, get used to the taste and feel of him, and then maybe move his hands where she wants them. Abby had a plan, or at least she did, but none of that matters anymore.

None of that matters, she reminds herself as she walks down the hallway towards the small room her would-be lover has claimed for himself. If death is truly imminent this time, she wants one good memory before she goes.

The door is unlocked and Abby slips in, cautiously moving through the dark room before reaching the edge of Marcus’s bed. He sleeps against the wall, unsurprising somehow, and there’s just enough room for a her-sized body to share space on the thin mattress. She’d be content if this is all she gets, she’s pretty sure, but-

“What are you doing here?” Marcus murmurs, body suddenly turning to face her. He’s not panicked, at least, not worried this is an emergency. (No shit, Abby thinks - the fact that the room is still dark and she didn’t even mean to wake him does indicate a few things.)

“Didn’t want to sleep alone,” she shrugs. “May I?”

He shifts position just a little, just enough to make space for her to lie comfortably beside him. She sits on the edge of the bed and kicks off her boots, then fluidly moves to take the expected space. Slow, Abby reminds herself. No sudden moves.

“What do you really want?” he asks, gently taking her hands in his.

“We could die any day now, and I...”

Abby’s voice cuts off and all of a sudden she really wants to cry. Too many emotions at once, too much-

“Oh.” Marcus lets go of her hands and moves to cup her face instead, tracing little spirals on the hollows under her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“You have to ask?” she almost laughs, and then shifts forward and kisses him.

This time, not an exploration or a goodbye. This time, just want. This time, letting go.

“Any day now,” she repeats against the softness of his lips. “And I don’t want to die without having had this.”

“Me neither,” he replies, hands dropping down to the hem of her shirt.

Slowly, they undress each other. Slowly, barely any space between them on this too-small bed, they explore. His callused hands wander across her soft skin, finding places that make her squirm and make her sigh, kneading her full breasts until she kisses him hard to keep from screaming. She’s equally adventurous, tracing scars with her fingertips, grinding against him and savoring the low moans he makes.

Finally, once the last bit of fabric separating them is thrown carelessly on the floor, they pause and breathe as one.

“Do you still have an implant?” Marcus asks, more learned precaution than anything else.

“I took it out after... I never thought... odds weren’t...”

He kisses her gently, innocently. “Odds have never been good for either of us, but here we are.”

“Here we are,” Abby repeats, pushing him onto his back and straddling him.

She sinks down onto his cock slowly, thankful for muscle memory as her body accepts the intrusion. His arms wrap around her, pulling her upper body down to meet his, hands slipping up to tangle in her hair yet allowing her to keep full control. When she reaches her limit, she stops, breathes, accepts. Wants.

“Fuck me,” he whispers.

She does, slowly riding him, slipping from his embrace but leaning down frequently for kisses. One of his hands slips to where their bodies are joined and puts the proper amount of pressure on her clit, bringing her forward until she bites his shoulder as she crosses the edge.

“Are you close?” she asks as she comes down.

“Yes.”

A few more shifts of her hips and he falls apart beneath her, breathing her name like a prayer.

“Stay?” he asks as she moves to lie beside him.

“Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

#ebf talks to anons #kabby #ebf writes fic

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