#maya writes

[lucidfairies]

#abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #abby anderson smut #abby smut #abby anderson x reader #maya writes #abby fanfiction #abby tlou #abby anderson fanfic #tlou1

[spencer-reids-adventures]

for @tobias-hankel!

cw: drug addiction

---

He doesn’t think anyone knows.

Last time, of course, they knew. They knew he’d just suffered a major trauma. They knew he kept arriving late to work and snapping at the team. They knew something was very, very wrong. And they never said anything to him about it, not really. Some vague words from Gideon. A few suspicious looks from Morgan. Utter befuddlement from poor Emily. But no one ever said a word, and so, neither did Spencer.

This time, he’s more careful. 

Once again, it’s not his fault, not really. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. It’s not his fault he wasn’t coherent enough after being shot to tell the EMTs not to give him narcotics. It’s not his fault he was unconscious when the rest of the decisions about his knee surgery were made. It’s not his fault he limped out of the hospital on crutches with a bottle of Percocet, and it’s not his fault he took it, or that he took it upon himself to increase the dose. Small increments, a few days at a time. He’s a doctor. It’s fine.

It’s not his fault his team was too busy focusing on Hotch to notice any of it.

It’s not his fault that when the Percocet runs out, he manages to make his way to a crummy neighborhood in the middle of the night to pay an embarrassing amount of money for a moderate quantity of Dilaudid, and it’s definitely not his fault that the relief is so powerful, it actually makes him cry.

No, it’s not his fault, he assures himself. But it’s still a problem. It’s still a secret. It’s still scary and shameful, and Spencer is weak and broken, and he can’t let any of his teammates find out what’s happening.

He tries to be careful. It’s easy at first, because he’s on leave from work. Once he gets back, he does his best to look normal, to arrive on time, to be kind to his coworkers. He tries his best, and it’s so hard, and he truly doesn’t know if he’s succeeding. He’s not sure of much, at this point. He’s just trying to get through each day the best he can, to manage the pain in a way that’s familiar for him. 

Hotch returns to work not long after Spencer, and from the look on his face, he can tell something is wrong. He doesn’t say anything, though. He never says anything. Spencer tries to brush it off, pretends it doesn’t bother him, pretends he’s not desperate to just talk about it with someone. 

He tries, and he tries, and he tries.

And then one evening, the phone rings.

The call shows up as Unknown Caller, but Spencer answers it anyway, expecting someone trying to scam him or sell him something.

“Just listen,” the voice says on the other end. “You don’t have to say anything right now.”

And Spencer couldn’t say anything even if he wanted to, because it’s Gideon’s voice on the other end of the line, a voice he hasn’t heard in years, though he hears it in his memories and his dreams more often than he’d like to admit. 

He waits, speechless, for Gideon to continue.

“Hotch called me. We talk sometimes, you know. He keeps me up to date on what’s going on. And he told me that something’s going on with you. He’s really worried about you.”

Spencer swallows. Why would Hotch reach out to Gideon instead of just talking to Spencer himself?

What would Spencer have even said if Hotch had tried to talk to him?

“I’m assuming it’s the same problem you had last time, when you missed that plane, though Hotch couldn’t confirm anything. Maybe it’s not that. Maybe you’re just struggling emotionally, or maybe it’s something else I don’t even know about. No matter what it is, Reid, I want to help you. I want to be here for you in a way that I haven’t before.”

Spencer rubs his face with his hand. It doesn’t make sense, none of this makes sense. Gideon left. He left, and he’s gone, and Spencer made peace with that a long time ago. And now—now he doesn’t know what to do at all. Now, nothing makes sense. Nothing at all.

“Can you tell me what you’re thinking, Spencer?”

Spencer sighs. Pulls at his hair. Wrings his hands out a few times, and switches his phone from one ear to the other. 

“I messed up,” he finally whispers. “I missed another plane.”

“We can fix this,” Gideon says immediately. “Are you home? Are you safe? Can I come to you?”

“C-come to me?” Spencer repeats incredulously. 

“We obviously don’t want you detoxing on your own,” Gideon says matter-of-factly. “I’ll come help you.”

“Detoxing…”

“You know you can’t keep going like this. Something needs to change. I’m not going to let you kill yourself with this stuff.”

Spencer is quiet for a long time.

“I’m… at home,” he finally whispers.

“Stay there,” says Gideon. “I’m coming to you, okay? It’s going to take me a little while, but just—don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t,” Spencer promises. 

When Gideon shows up 30 minutes later, a needle and a vial are sitting on the coffee table, but Spencer hasn’t moved.

#maya writes #cw drug addiction #spencer reid #jason gideon #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

[florenceafternoon]

"I liked sleeping separately since I could cry myself to sleep"

and what if I write jily angst

#inspired by queen of tears (as in that is where the dialogue is taken from) #may or may not be from my GoT au #lily evans #james potter #jily #maya writes

[mayapleiades]

The Knight of the Cart Comedic Retelling | 17k | Mature | Complete     

Comedy, Retelling, Comedic Retelling, BAMF Lancelot, badassery and heroism, Adventures, Kidnapping, Swordfighting, Tournaments, A Heap of Modern References, Author Comments, Knights being Dramatic, Queens being Dramatic, Drama, But this stays faithful to the original so you also have, Animal Death, Fake rape, and by that I mean that a lady stages an attempted rape and then calls it off, Suicide Attempt for Dramatic Purposes, Blood, Death

It is Banquet Day in Camelot! Everyone at court is happy and celebrating and eating, and Kay is being very proud, as he is the seneschal of Camelot, and he’s very happy he’s managed to throw a successful party.

Suddenly, the doors open and in steps a Bad Knight.

Bad Knight tells King Arthur, “I have imprisoned thousands of your people into my domains because I Am Evil! I’m just telling you that because you’re a huge loser, and you’re definitely not strong enough to save them. You don’t even have enough resources to do it! Cry, bitch!”

Arthur goes, “Eh, sadness :(( I will cry now.” Weeping sounds ensue.

Bad Knight goes to leave, and then stops at the door. “You know what,” he says, “I’m gonna be generous. Have one knight escort the Queen to the forest. If the knight manages to best me in a duel, you can have your people back. If he can’t, I’m taking him and the Queen!”

Once upon a time, the author tried to write a very short, light, and funny Knight of the Cart summary for her friends who were curious to know what it was all about. 17k later, she realised that while it was quite light and quite funny indeed, she had failed spectacularly in making it an actual summary. So you get a comedic retelling instead.

Read on Ao3

#arthuriana #arthurian literature #retelling #the knight of the cart #lancelot du lac #guinevere #chrétien de troyes #maya writes #this was supposed to be a lot shorter lol #but i had too much fun writing it not to share

[polkadotsunshine]

Seeing a total solar eclipse requires both preparation and flexibility.

First is the equipment. My family has a collection of welder's glass so we can watch the sun before totality. It's a high quality, comfortable, and durable version of eclipse glasses. We use rubber bands to fix the glass to binoculars, so we can quickly remove the filter during totality. We've also fitted a perfectly parallel straw to our telescope's reflex sight so we can align it to the sun*.

*Spotting the sun with the naked eye would cause physical harm yet welder's glass blocks out so much light you couldn't see the sight with it on. By aligning the shadow of the straw on your hand, so that the sunlight comes straight as a white circle, you can aim the telescope.

Next comes the location. Years in advance, we analyze historical weather data to determine a path along totality with the least likelihood of cloud coverage. We're not looking for a location to sit in; we want a road we can travel along to escape dense clouds. Months in advance, we change our plans from Mexico to Texas. Days in advance, we change our plans from Texas to New York. Even as we drive through the Adirondacks the day of the eclipse, we watch the radar to adjust course. Even as we set up our telescope, we watch for changes in cloud density and the direction of the wind. We settle by Tupper Lake, mentally calculating how long it would take to pack everything up and drive east.

Fetching supplies from the car, we discover someone parked less than an inch away from our passenger’s side. We shuffle through the driver's side doors, over to the other half of the car, and accept the circumstance. As my dad waits in line for a portable toilet, someone points out our neighbor’s parking job and offers astonishment then condolences. As my mom gets a blanket from the car, someone rushes up to her, exclaiming they witnessed the parking job in horror, and they complain about the Cornell bumper sticker on their car. The third time someone runs up to us, it's the driver himself. He profusely apologizes.

We get to know the guy: Jordan. My mom asks about Cornell, since that's where she and my dad met. His daughter went to Cornell. He asks where I went to college. The conversation goes from there. It turns out his wife is home sick and he went to finish the trip alone. He's visibly jealous of our telescope. We adopt him into our party. He corrects his parking job and we share our equipment with him. I teach with him the little I remember from what my dad had taught me. 

The anticipation builds. For a while, it's just a relaxing day outside. The moon hasn’t even begun to cross the sun. I look at sunspots through our telescope and ask my dad how many times the size of Earth they are. I read my book and listen to the lake lap up the shore. A son plays catch with his father. A group of college friends yell over cards. I watch Canadian geese swim around a family in kayaks.

The anticipation builds. My dad shouts, "First contact!" as he checks the telescope. We lazily look through our glass and idly remark interest that such a small sliver is visible without magnification. I eat beef jerky and check my phone. We occasionally look to the sun and make small talk over how fast it's moving. I walk to a nearby McDonald's to use the bathroom; I don't want totality to be interrupted. As the sun wanes, I play with a colander to find the focal points of each pinhole camera it creates, speckling our folding table with polkadot sunshine in the shape of tiny crescents.

The anticipation builds. It starts getting dark, like twilight. Automated lights flick on along the lake. The geese come to shore. My mom identifies the nightsong of birds in the park. Totality is in 10 minutes. The lighting shifts from twilight to unnatural; a dimness creeps from every direction, somehow illuminating the now-muted colors of the world. Our brains struggle to make sense of it. It's cold. My grandparents' dog hides between my brother’s legs. He comforts her.

It's fast. My dad points across the lake. It's the shadow of the moon, screaming towards us at over 1000 mph. The clouds dissipate inside its cold beam of darkness. He points out Venus, visible to the naked eye. The crowd clamors. The last light of the sun forms a brilliant white diamond atop a ring, surrounding the pitch black moon in the sky. I've never seen contrast so strong in nature. I shout because Jordan shouts and Jordan shouts because I shout.

Each moment is heavy. Totality will begin soon. Totality will end soon. It will be years before I get the mere possibility of seeing anything like this ever again. I tell myself to make each second count. I won't waste time taking pictures. I won't waste any time at all. I look up.

There is a hole in the sky. The stark white corona tinges aquamarine, fringed by red Baily's beads bleeding through the mountains on the moon. My emotions overpower prepared thought. Yellow orange sunsets surround every horizon. Anywhere I look is a beautiful moment that can't last. Everything feels wonderfully wrong. Red plasma arcs at a magnitude incomprehensible; three solar flare prominences push their way to my attention. I see the eclipse. I cry.

And then it was over. I had counted down to this day for 7 years. It marked the end of an era; bookending the as-of-now most important years of my life. It landed on a day I made up layered sentimental feelings for. The eclipse was beautiful because I forced myself to savor every memory, yet despite all my plans, for those 3 minutes and 31 seconds, it became something else. I allowed myself to fall in love with whatever came my way - and I found more than I had ever expected.

Seeing a total solar eclipse requires both preparation and flexibility. The sight is gorgeous of course, but for me, experiencing a total solar eclipse is a communal ritual. It is my dad showing me how to align his telescope. It is the tips my aunts and uncles exchanged when deciding where to go. It is the picnic I had with my grandmother. It is the unlikely friend we made. The anticipation built from our collective preparation allowed me to follow my central directive: I lived in the moment, no matter where that took me.

After all, isn’t everything amazing?

#maya writes #sorry i think this one is subpar but i don't feel like editing it and it exists #so here #eclipse2024

[keijism]

8:05 PM | 0.6k words.

suna rintaro had never thought he'd fall in love.

and he certainly never thought he would fall in love with you

he'd never thought he'd wake up suddenly at 1am to a realisation of "fuck, i'm head over heels for my best friend ".

but the thing is... the more he thinks about it, the more it consumes him, like a little part of his soul that he'd barricaded with a high grade lock. but it had still somehow turned rogue and started ravaging him.

he's in love with you .

you, the person who he'd known for longer than he could remember, the person who he'd shared half his life with, the person who knew his memories better than he himself.

and he always has been, hasn't he? every since that one day in middle school where he'd forgotten his lunch and you'd lovingly shared yours with him. he still remembers the fluttery feeling that had erupted in his chest. it awakened something in him that he'd not comprehended until now.

he's always found the trope ever so cheesy. the whole idea of childhood friends being in love the entire time but hiding their own romantic feelings in order to preserve their friendship.

he'd dismissed the entire thing simply as unhealthy expectations of real life, and he had always seen it as that.

yet as he sat at his desk , head in hands and thought about you it felt as real as ever. he knew his feelings were irrational and rash but he couldn't help but smile. perhaps the reason any other girl had never caught his eye back in high school was because of you the whole time.

maybe it wasn't the trope itself that suna found unrealistic, but the ending of it all. every time, the character confesses their love and their best friend says they love them too.

he knew it'd never be like that, he'd never dated any girl through his teens , whereas you'd had many boyfriends through school.

let's say figuratively, if you'd loved him the whole time, like in the movies ... why did you look so happy with them? why'd you look so happy with those other boys. the perfect boys with the perfect smiles, and the perfect grades, and the perfect hair ... suna wasn't perfect, he knew he was not.

his smile was crooked due to his chipped tooth, which was a result of a minor accident that occurred when he was chasing you through across uneven surface and fell flat on his front.

his grades were far from perfect, he was lazy he knew that. he only kept his grades up enough so that he would be able to carry on playing volleyball.

his hair stood up on end, whatever he tried to use to tame it... it didn't work. in the end the uneven waves always won.

he exhaled softly, he had a great knack for hurting his own feelings more than he needed to. according to osamu, that was his biggest red flag.

the soft cool summer breeze spilled slowly through the window, tickling his skin and ruffling his hair, and he found his head trailing off to you, again. for the nth time in the past hour.

every little curve of your face ,that he'd imprinted into his head. all of your little quirks and habits, that he'd picked up from you himself.

you were now the person who occupied every incoming thought. he hated it, he hated how his entire body ached for you yet you didn't bat an eye at him.

his head yelled friendship but his heart yearned for something more.

rintaro was never one to open emotionally, he found it stressful to fully trust yourself with someone like that... but if there was one thing he wanted right now.

it was to tell you how he felt, every single emotion that raged through him... he wanted to shout.

"god, i'm in love with you... why can't you see?"

#maya writes #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyū!! #suna rintaro #suna fluff #suna x reader #suna drabbles #suna headcanon #suna angst #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader #hq suna #haikyuu angst #haikyuu!!

[calumsash]

Three, that's the magic number

pairings: Luke Hemmings & Calum Hood, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood/Ashton Irwin

rating: T

word count: 7.1k

“Besides, this band was only in the city for the night and my boyfriend loves them so we went out.”

That’s a thing Calum does sometimes, he calls his husband his boyfriend.

Luke never asks, never calls him out on it, as it only really happened on a few occasions, but still, he’s left confused every time.

Or, in which Luke doesn’t realize Calum has both a husband and a boyfriend.

read on ao3 here!

i feel confident saying i've been making some nice moodboards for a while now, so i finally decided to make one for my own fic that i wrote a while ago!

#GUYS LOOK I MADE A MOODBOARD FOR MY OWN FIC HOW FUN IS THAT #honestly i attempted to make one a while ago but i hated it aksgshsks #but i read it again yesterday and suddenly felt inspired to finish it? #so yeah here it is my pride and joy #in other news i wrote 800 words today for another fic yay me! #mashlum fic #cake fic #kinda???? it's very friendship cake heavy more than it's mashlum let's be real #fic moodboard #maya writes #5sos fic

[lucidfairies]

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

#abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #tlou modern au #lawyer #ceo #ceo au #maya writes

[spencer-reids-adventures]

for @justiceforralvez, for the 2022 @cmgiftexchange 💕

prompts: ralvez, hurt/comfort, fluff, autistic spencer reid

---

in this world it's just us

one

The first time Luke sees it happen, he’s only recently joined the team. He doesn’t know Spencer very well yet, doesn’t know about his quirks and oddities, aside from no handshakes. They aren’t close yet. They aren’t together yet. The first time it happens, Luke isn’t quite sure what to do.

They’re at an unfamiliar precinct and the local LEOs are being insufferable, the weather is hot and muggy, and they’ve been working hard for hours with absolutely no leads. Spencer has been switching his time between geographical profiles and ciphers, and neither are leading to any satisfying headway. He starts to become overwhelmed with the entire situation, and though he can feel his throat growing tight, he ignores the sensation until it’s too late. As if there were anything he could have done about it anyway.

“Hey, you okay?” Luke asks, entering the room where Spencer’s sitting cross-legged on the table staring at a whiteboard and taking in his distressed face. “You look upset.”

Spencer opens his mouth but no words come out. Frustrated, he shakes his head and looks away. Then he signs, “Can’t speak,” but Luke doesn’t understand right away.

“I, uh, don’t speak sign language,” he says apologetically. “Are you—can you not talk?”

Spencer nods and stares down at his lap.

“Okay, hey, it’s okay,” Luke says comfortingly. “What can I do to help?”

Spencer shrugs and grabs a piece of paper and a pen.

Leave me alone for now, he writes. Please I’m sorry. I’ll explain later.

“You want me to put a sign on the door so no one else comes in?” Luke asks, reaching for the pen and paper. Spencer nods gratefully. Luke writes, Please do not disturb and grabs a piece of tape, jumping up and sticking the paper to the door of the conference room. “I’ll come check on you later, okay?” he says, and Spencer just nods.

two

That evening Spencer continues to communicate by writing notes, but the rest of the team doesn’t seem fazed. Luke wonders if this happens often, if they’re just used to this. He wonders if Spencer is used to this, if he ever could get used to this. More than anything, he seems embarrassed, and Luke hates to see him that way. He wants to do something, anything, to make it better.

They don’t really discuss it until months later, when they’re just beginning their relationship. They’re over at Spencer’s, watching documentaries on the couch, and Spencer has seemed tense all evening. All of a sudden, Spencer mutes the show and turns to glance at Luke.

“There’s something I feel like I should tell you,” he says. “You probably already know, but I’d rather it just be out in the open.”

“Okay,” Luke says easily. “You can tell me anything.”

“I’m autistic,” Spencer says. “That’s why I struggle with some things more than most people, and why I sometimes disappear on cases, and why I occasionally can’t speak. It’s all connected. The rest of the team knows, I’m pretty sure, though we’ve never really talked about it. Gideon knew, and I think he told them. But I wanted you to know, and I wanted you to hear it from me.”

Luke is quiet for a moment. “Thank you for telling me,” he says before it becomes awkward. “Thank you for trusting me with that information. When did you learn sign language?”

“When I was a kid. My mom and I both learned once she realized I went through periods where I couldn’t speak. She wanted to be sure we could always communicate with each other. We took classes together starting when I was five.”

“That’s amazing. Your mom is amazing.” He pauses. “Are you feeling okay about having told me all of this?”

“I think so. Just, please don’t treat me differently,” Spencer begs in a small voice. “Somes people talk to me differently, or treat me like a baby, and I’m not, I’m not any different, I’m just—it just is what it is. That’s the real reason I’ve never outright told the team. I don’t want them to treat me differently.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Luke promises. “You’re still you. You’re still Spencer. I just have a little bit more information, that’s all. You don’t have to be, like, ashamed or anything.”

“I’m not ashamed of being autistic,” Spencer clarifies. “I just don’t like telling people.”

“That’s valid,” Luke says. “I promise this doesn’t change anything between us.”

Spencer looks relaxed for the first time all night. “Thank you,” he says. “That means a lot to me.”

Luke is telling the truth; nothing changes between them. He uses the information to understand why Spencer does some of the things he does, and it makes a lot of things make more sense to him. But he doesn’t act like Spencer is someone who needs special treatment, he doesn’t handle him with kid gloves. He’s just Spencer, Luke’s boyfriend, and that’s that. 

The next time Spencer loses his voice in public, Luke makes sure to have a pen and paper handy, and though Spencer’s handwriting is shaky and unsure, he manages to communicate what he needs to with Luke, occasionally supplementing with signs that Luke doesn’t really understand, though he tries to remember the basic ones. It breaks Luke’s heart to know there isn’t more he can do to help.

three

Luke and Spencer have been together for two years, and Luke is acting strange, and he has been for months now, a year even, and Spencer doesn’t know what to do. As far as he can tell, nothing has really changed between them—they haven’t been fighting, they haven’t had any sort of falling out or miscommunication. Everything seems perfectly normal except for one thing.

Every Thursday night when they’re not on a case, Luke disappears, and he won’t tell Spencer where he’s going.

He doesn’t straight up refuse to tell Spencer, but when he leaves and Spencer asks where he’s going, he can tell that Luke is lying.

“Oh, I have a meeting with someone,” he’ll say vaguely, or “Oh, I have to go work out,” but then he won’t bring his workout clothes with him. For a profiler, he’s a very bad liar, and it makes Spencer nervous. He doesn’t understand why Luke won’t just tell him the truth about where he’s going. He doesn’t think Luke would cheat on him, but this behavior has him on edge, and he really doesn’t know what to think.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. He stops asking Luke where he’s headed, resigning himself to the fact that Luke is his own person and Spencer doesn’t need to keep tabs on him every second. He contemplates asking Garcia to ping his cell phone’s location, but he doesn’t want to be that kind of boyfriend. So instead, he keeps it bottled up, keeps it to himself, and waits to explode.

One Thursday, Luke gets home from wherever he’s been, and Spencer has locked himself in the bedroom and won’t come out. He knows he’s being petty and ridiculous, but he also doesn’t feel like he can trust Luke anymore, and he’s so agitated he’s lost the ability to speak completely.

Luke calls for him, banging on the door, begging for him to open it, but Spencer just can’t. He slides a note under the door that says, Not now, and Luke sighs and sits down on the other side of the door.

“Are you mad at me, Spence?” he asks, and Spencer wonders if he actually expects a reply.

Not now. He underlines where he wrote it the first time and pushes the paper back out.

“Please talk to me. Write to me. Whatever. Did I do something to upset you?”

I don’t want to talk about it.

“Please, cariño. Let me help you. Let me know what I did wrong.”

Spencer starts to write about how frustrated he is, about how Luke is lying to him, about how he doesn’t want to fight but he doesn’t understand why Luke doesn’t trust him anymore. Then he tears the paper up into pieces and begins to cry. When he can’t take it anymore, he opens up the door and looks at Luke.

“I hate this,” he signs. “You’re lying to me about where you go on Thursday nights. You don’t trust me, or you’re keeping something from me. I don’t understand what I did wrong. I don’t know what to do. I’m so mad at you and I don’t know what to do.”

Luke stares at him with wide eyes, a look of devastation crossing his face.

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps. “I didn’t know you felt that way. I trust you. You’re not doing anything wrong. I’m so sorry.”

Spencer gapes at him.

“I’m sorry,” Luke signs. “I’ve been taking classes. Learning ASL so I could understand you when you can’t speak. I should have told you.”

Spencer is overwhelmed with emotion and doesn’t know what to do. He can feel the tears falling down his cheeks, and they’re wet and slippery, and the sensation against his hot skin is awful. He wants to tell Luke, “I’m sorry, I forgive you, please help me,” but his brain won’t let him properly process those thoughts, so instead he just stands there and stares.

“Thank you,” he finally signs, and then drops to the floor and wraps his arms around his legs, resting his forehead on his knees. He rocks back and forth, trying to self-regulate, and Luke knows not to try to touch him, not right now. The doorway is silent as Spencer rocks and Luke watches helplessly.

Eventually, after what feels like hours but is probably more like 20 minutes, Spencer lifts his head and looks at Luke, his thoughts finally settling, though he still can’t speak. 

“You did that for me?” he signs.

“Of course I did,” Luke replies. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

Luke stands up and helps Spencer up, and then Luke puts Spencer to bed, tucking him in carefully and placing a cup of water next to his side of the bed.

“Sweet dreams,” he says. “We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

four

When Luke wakes up, Spencer isn’t in bed next to him. He gets up and grabs his hoodie, zipping it up as he steps out into the kitchen, where Spencer has prepared a feast. The counter is piled high with pancakes, eggs, bacon, and fruit.

“What’s this?” he asks, and Spencer, who is facing away from him, jumps in surprise and spins around.

“I made you breakfast,” he says. “I was going to bring it to you in bed.”

“Why did you make me breakfast?”

Spencer stares at him. “Because I love you? And because you learned sign language for me? And because I feel bad for assuming you were doing something nefarious behind my back?”

“Nefarious?” Luke raises an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what I thought,” Spencer sighs. “I know you wouldn’t cheat on me. I know you wouldn’t do anything terrible. But I just didn’t know where you were going, and you wouldn’t tell me, and it made me a little bit crazy. I’m sorry I’m like this.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Spencer,” Luke says. “I should have told you. I know you don’t really like surprises, I don’t know why I decided I needed to surprise you with this. I should have just been honest from the beginning. I’m sorry I put you through that.”

“You have no reason to apologize. You did something so nice for me, and I need you to know how much it means to me. Thank you, Luke.”

“You’re welcome. But it’s no big deal. I just love you, you know? And I wanted to be able to communicate with you all the time. Just like your mom did.”

Spencer wipes his hand across his face, and Luke realizes that he’s crying.

“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he says with a sniff. “God, my mom is going to love you when she hears about this.”

“Your mom already loves me,” Luke points out.

“She’s going to love you even more.” 

Luke steps around the counter and wraps his arms around Spencer.

five

It’s a busy day in the office—the team is working out of Quantico on a local case, so though they’re at home, the stakes are high and everyone is exhausted and overworked. It’s been three days and Spencer hasn’t slept at all in that time. He knows everyone can tell he’s running on fumes, but at least they’re polite enough not to say anything about it.

There’s a fly in the room, and it’s buzzing around his head, occasionally getting close to his ear, and he can’t stand it. The sound makes him so uncomfortable, and he starts to feel itchy all over, almost as if he can feel the fly walking across his skin. 

The fluorescent light is flickering slightly and buzzing almost as loudly as the fly, and Spencer is completely overwhelmed by everything, he feels like he’s floating, he can feel his throat tightening…

JJ comes into the room with a stack of files and she starts talking loudly and quickly and Spencer can’t even process what she’s saying, can’t track the words or make any sort of sense out of them, and he’s frustrated and embarrassed, and he can’t say a word, and he doesn’t know what to do. JJ stares at him, clearly having asked him a question, and he can’t answer her, and he feels like he’s about two inches tall, and he’s contemplating crawling under the table when Luke walks into the room.

Hands flying, Spencer frantically explains that he’s overwhelmed and he doesn’t know what JJ wants and he’s about to lose it. Then he hunches over with his face in his hands, humiliated.

“Jayj,” he hears Luke say. “Spence is really struggling right now. I think it would be best if i take him home to get some rest. Can you let Emily know?”

“Yeah, of course,” JJ says. “Since when do you understand sign language?”

“It’s a long story,” Luke says, but Spencer can hear the grin in his voice. “I’ll tell you all about it sometime, but not right now. We’ll see you later, okay?”

“Yeah, go, go, I’ll talk to Emily. Feel better, Spence. Luke, take care of him.”

“I will,” Luke promises, and he takes a step closer to Spencer, who’s finally looked up from his hands. He slides off the table and stands close to Luke. “You ready to go?” Luke asks. 

Spencer nods and follows him out of the room. 

six

When they get home, Spencer curls up on the couch and wraps a blanket around his shoulders.

“You wanna stay out here?” Luke asks. “Or I can tuck you into bed if you’d prefer. It’s darker in there.”

“The light in here is okay,” signs Spencer. “Rather be out here.”

Luke nods and brings Spencer a glass of water. 

“Is there anything else you need?” he asks.

“Not right now. Going to lay down for a little while, okay?”

“Okay. I’ll just be around, so let me know if something comes up.”

Spencer rests for a couple of hours, and Luke manages to get some cleaning done and then listens to music while he tries to decide what to make for dinner. 

“Are smells bothering you?” he asks Spencer, who isn’t asleep, just staring up at the ceiling. “I was thinking of starting dinner.”

“I think it’ll be okay,” Spencer signs. “Make whatever you want. I’ll probably just have noodles.”

Luke makes himself some food, confident he’s not bothering Spencer, and then makes Spencer a bowl of noodles, which he carries to the living room and sets on the coffee table.

“I thought we could eat together,” he says. “If you want.”

Spencer clears his throat. “I do,” he says hoarsely. “Thank you for making me dinner.”

“Of course,” Luke says. “Sounds like your voice is coming back?”

Spencer nods. “Luke, that was amazing.”

Luke is confused. “What was amazing? It seemed like you were having a pretty bad day, actually.”

“No, I was,” Spencer clarifies. “But the fact that I could be in that state and you could still understand me—we could communicate without having to write everything down—I could tell you what I needed and you could ask me questions—I haven’t had that since I was a little kid, with my mom. And it makes such a huge difference. Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” Luke says bashfully. “But you’re right, it was great to be able to understand you and communicate with you. Makes things so much simpler.”

“Do you think we should tell the team about us?”

Luke looks at him, eyes wide. “Where did that come from?”

“JJ asked when you learned ASL. What were you planning to tell her? That you learned because your random coworker occasionally can’t talk at work? Maybe it’s time we just tell them the truth about us. We practically live together at this point anyway. They’re going to figure it out sooner or later.”

“Maybe it is time to tell them,” Luke says. “I’ve been nervous, but I’m not really sure why.”

“I’m almost positive they’ll be supportive.”

“Almost?”

“You can never be 100% certain how someone is going to react to news like that,” Spencer explains. “My gut tells me it’ll be fine, but I don’t want to be caught completely off guard if something goes wrong.”

“That’s fair. Well, maybe we should tell Emily first, and see how she reacts. Since she’ll be doing the extra paperwork. And then if that goes well, we could tell the team?”

“Good plan.”

seven

Luke and Spencer meet outside Emily’s office a few days later, and Spencer knocks hesitantly.

“Come in,” calls Emily, and they step inside. “Hey guys,” she says. “How can I help you?”

Spencer looks at Luke, who clears his throat awkwardly. “We’ve come to disclose our relationship,” he says, reaching for Spencer’s hand. Spencer takes his and gives it a squeeze.

“Your relationship?” Emily’s mouth hangs open. “How did I not see this coming?”

“I have no idea,” Spencer says. “I didn’t think we were being that subtle, though we were trying to be.”

“You did a good job,” Emily says. “I had absolutely no idea. How long have you guys been together?

“Two years,” says Luke, and Emily gapes again.

“Well, belated congratulations,” she says. “I’ll have to fill out some forms, but you guys should be good to go. Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for not freaking out,” Spencer says. “Really, thank you.”

Now that they’ve told Emily, it’s time to tell the team, and it turns out to be much more nerve wracking than Spencer expected. He just doesn’t know how his friends are going to react.

Luke gathers them into the conference room later that afternoon, so they can tell everyone at the same time, and Emily joins them even though she already knows. She gives Spencer an encouraging smile as he opens his mouth to speak.

“We have something we want to tell you,” he says. “And I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before, it’s just—”

“Oh my god, are you guys together?” squeals Penelope, a huge smile on her face. “I knew it!”

“How did you know?” Luke asks.

“Wait, she’s right?” JJ asks. Everyone starts talking at the same time, and Emily is the one to quiet them down.

“Let the boys speak,” she says loudly, and the room goes silent.

“Luke and I are a couple,” Spencer says. “We’ve been together for two years. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner.”

The whole group starts talking at the same time again, and Spencer just looks at Luke and shrugs.

“We did our part, right?” he asks.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Luke replies. 

He takes Spencer by the hand and they walk out of the room.

#maya writes #gift fic #cm gift exchange 2022 #criminal minds fanfiction #autistic spencer reid

[florenceafternoon]

“Devotion equal to that seen in repent”

Is the most James Potter description I’ve ever written

#james potter #jily #jple #maya writes

[foolgobi65]

wrote most of this 5 years ago and have been tinkering ever since. i dont think i would write it like this now, but have posted largely un-edited bc its 15k and might as well be posted so i can think of a different blasphemic take to have.

#ramayana #maya writes

[polkadotsunshine]

of the wild things that happen in True Colors, one of my favorites has been andrias’s A.T. field.

i choose to interpret this as an in-universe real fucking Absolute Territory Field. this is not a dune shield or newtopian tech. this is a barrier manifested by his soul. in evangelion (spoilers btw!) we learn that all life generates its own A.T. field. these fields are the boundaries that separate individuals from each other, in both a physical and metaphysical sense.

angels are special in that their A.T. fields are so strong they are visible and can be used for supernatural physical feats. so why do i believe andrias can do this?

at various points in the story, the protagonists of evangelion try to form close relationships but they only end up hurting each other. as a response to this trauma they shut themselves off from the world. each character does this through different means, but they all find a way to avoid making close relationships again. they put up emotional walls and though these barriers are not physical they are no less strong. this insight is key; as it turns out, A.T. fields are formed by an individual’s fear of being hurt by others.

“Hedgehogs have a hard time sharing warmth with other hedgehogs. The closer they get, the more they hurt each other with their quills. People are also like that. I think some part of Shinji is afraid to take that risk because he's afraid of being hurt.”

andrias has spent a thousand years trying and failing to forget leif. because she was such a close friend, losing her hurt so much more. he has spent a thousand years in self imposed solitude, grieving over her betrayal. his life has been defined from his isolation; it’s no wonder it’s manifested physically. it’s no wonder that andrias has an in-universe real fucking Absolute Territory Field.

“That's the thing about friends, isn't it? The more you love them, the more it hurts when they go.”

now let’s understand how anne overcomes this supernatural defense.

anne has been betrayed by sasha, marcy - even hop pop - and yet she will not let them go. she chooses to fight to restore her friendships, often literally. while andrias has long since given up, anne accepts that the joy of connecting with others comes at the risk of betrayal and abandonment. to her, it is a happiness worth the pain.

“It's not easy. Forgiveness is hard. And it can take time. But believe me... it's worth it”

anne weilds the power of the heart. she reconnects to the stone and undergoes her transformation with one goal in mind. her strength is fueled by an undying motivation to keep her friends. she channels the calamity gem with a simple mantra:

“Give him back.”

while andrias accepted the loss of his friends as irreversible, anne refuses this fate. this is the essence of anne’s conflict with andrias. in their final battle during All In, anne confronts andrias’s philosophy; the fight is more psychological than physical. after all, tritonio says, "an honest dialogue is more powerful than any weapon.”

“So what? I'm supposed to give up? Stop feeling things? Like you? Honestly, I pity you! You shut yourself off from the rest of the world, didn't you? A thousand years of suffering. Of burying your feelings. Of hating yourself. That must have been hard.”

after all these years; anne’s spirit, marcy’s friendship, and leif’s letter change andrias’s mind. he finally opens himself up to others. his A.T. field goes down. he's vulnerable.

“So I'm begging you, my dearest friend, don't close yourself off. Open your heart, and follow it.”

however, back in True Colors, andrias is more closed off than ever. he backstabs the first friend he’s had in a thousand years. in his mind, there’s no going back from here. anne cannot defeat him with a change of heart; not yet. she must overcome the shield with force, though that’s easier said than done.

you see, in evangelion, only one thing is strong enough to break through an A.T. field: another A.T. field.

so how can anne have such a strong A.T. field if she is philosophically opposite to andrias? here lies the foundation of evangelion; accepting your boundary between others is a necessary part of life. when A.T. fields cease to exist, people cannot exist because they are indistinguishable from one another.

in the end, shinji realizes that he would rather struggle to understand others than to simply not exist in a sea of souls without A.T. fields. he does this after a long journey to find happiness and self worth.

anne, like shinji, recognizes the pain of intimacy, yet chooses to fight for it anyway. the strength of her A.T. field comes from her strong sense of self. her friendship with sprig teaches her that she has value. she finally stands up for herself because she values her own self worth. her A.T. field, while not visible, shatters andrias’s defenses. her individuality is not born from the fear of others but something stronger.

"I think the reason I don't want a new look because I'm finally happy with who I see in the mirror right now. So no matter what I put on, I just wanna see the same person smiling back."

anne wins because she loves herself.

#first time writing something like this i hope it makes sense #it's a bit hard for me to be normal about this show so idk if this jumble of ideas works #also forgive the 9anime watermark lmao. i'll have a pristine copy of amphibia but i don't do that for much else #maya writes #amphibia #best of

[apathetic-theme-song]

spoiler alert for the next fic i'm working on - i've never written Darkshipping before but I do 100% have a scene in mind where Yami Yugi walks into the room and Bakura is just like

#yugioh #maya writes #darkshipping #yami yugi #yami bakura #i don't necessarily ship it #but it's funny so