#—scenario

[dearobinchwan]

𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝔃𝓲𝓷𝓰

pairing : ace x fem!reader

wc : 1.081

summary : you and Ace found solace in a hammock after a grueling battle with the Marines.

The Moby Dick gently swayed beneath the moonlit sky. Exhausted from the battle, Ace took your hand as you both headed to a quiet spot with a waiting hammock. The deck still buzzed with post-fight activity, but in this corner, it was just the two of you.

The sound of distant laughter and celebratory cheers faded as you found the secluded spot. Ace secured the hammock between two sturdy posts, and you both settled into its embrace. The rhythmic creaking of the hammock matched the soothing sounds of the ship sailing through calm waters.

Ace's gaze met yours, his eyes reflecting a mixture of weariness and relief. “That was a tough one,” he said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet night.

You nodded, feeling the weight of the battle still lingering in the air. “Yeah, but we made it through. We always do,” you replied, a reassuring smile playing on your lips.

He returned the smile, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. “Couldn't have done it without you,” Ace admitted, squeezing your hand gently.

The moment hung in the air, a shared understanding of the unspoken bond forged in the heat of battle. The night sky above sparkled with stars, and Ace's thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand.

As you both lay there, the fatigue of the fight began to give way to a different kind of warmth—the comfort of being close to someone who understood the highs and lows of the pirate's life. The ship rocked gently, and the soft murmurs of the crew became a distant lullaby.

“I never get tired of looking at the stars,” Ace mused, breaking the comfortable silence. “They make everything else seem so small, you know?”

You followed his gaze, losing yourself in the shimmering expanse above. “Yeah, it's like a reminder that there's so much more out there than just the battles we fight.”

Ace nodded, his expression thoughtful. “And moments like these make it all worth it. Just taking a break, looking up at the sky, and realizing there's a whole world waiting for us.”

After a moment of comfortable silence, Ace spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of nostalgia. “You know, when I was a kid, I used to dream about adventures like these. I'd stare at the stars and imagine all the places beyond the horizon.”

You listened attentively, encouraging him to share more about his past. “Really? What kind of adventures did you dream about?”

Ace chuckled softly, a distant look in his eyes. “Oh, all sorts. Sailing to uncharted islands, discovering hidden treasures, and, of course, becoming the strongest pirate out there. I guess some dreams never really change.”

“As I grew older, the dreams evolved, but the stars were always there, guiding me,” Ace continued. “Even in the darkest times, looking up at the night sky brought a sense of comfort, like there was something greater watching over me.”

In a moment of unspoken understanding, Ace gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. The air crackled with a quiet anticipation as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Ace whispered, “I don't say it enough, but I appreciate having you by my side. In the toughest battles and the quietest moments, you're always there.”

You smiled, your fingers gently caressing his cheek. The moonlight highlighted the warmth in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest. “Ace, I wouldn't trade these moments for anything. You mean everything to me.”

As the conversation shifted to the recent fight with the Marines, Ace's tone became a blend of seriousness and reflection. “They came at us with everything they had. It was tough, but having you there, fighting by my side, made all the difference.”

You listened intently, your gaze locked with his. “We make a good team, don't we?” you said, a proud smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

Ace nodded, a smirk playing on his face. “The best. I wouldn't want anyone else watching my back.”

“I thought we were done for when that Marine captain unleashed that surprise attack,” Ace admitted, his eyes holding a mixture of amusement and relief. “But you, you pulled off that move with such finesse. I couldn't help but be impressed.”

You chuckled, remembering the close call. “Well, you taught me a thing or two about finesse in our sparring sessions. I just applied what I learned.”

Ace grinned, the admiration evident in his eyes. “You're incredible, princess, you know that?”

Your cheeks warmed at his compliment. “Only because I have an incredible teacher.”

The air was charged with a sweet mixture of vulnerability and affection, and Ace's hand found yours, fingers intertwining in a silent promise.

“Tonight has been perfect,” Ace said, his gaze never leaving yours. “Under the stars, with you in my arms, I couldn't ask for anything more.”

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

Amidst the serious recounting of events, a playful glint entered Ace's eyes. “Did you notice when I had that, uh, narcoleptic episode?” he said, a grin spreading across his face.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. “Narcoleptic episode? Is that what you're calling it now?”

Ace chuckled, “Well, I did nod off for a split second in the middle of the fight. It was like my body decided it was the perfect time for a power nap.”

You couldn't help but laugh, imagining the scene. “Oh, fire fist Ace, the fearsome pirate, catching some Zs in the middle of battle. I'm sure the Marines were terrified.”

Ace rolled his eyes in mock offense. “Hey, it's not like I planned it. I was just resting my eyes for a moment, and next thing I knew, you were waking me up, and we were back in action.”

“Resting your eyes, huh? Classic Ace move,” you teased, poking him playfully.

He nudged you back. “Well, you have to admit, it added a bit of drama to the whole thing. The Marines probably thought I was pulling some secret technique.”

You both shared a laugh, the lighthearted banter weaving seamlessly into the quiet night.

“I guess even the strongest pirates need a quick nap now and then,” you teased, leaning in to steal another quick kiss.

Ace grinned, “Only when they have the most amazing girlfriend by their side to keep them on their toes.”

Feel free to like or reblog :)

[wirefoxedterrier]

Btw, non UK users here, would be genuinely super helpful if you could boost posts relating to the far right violence happening and also counter protests. A lot of UK users don’t really follow each other, and also it just helps to increase the chance of people who could go to counter protests seeing posts about what’s happening when. I know posts about our politics; and non USAmerican politics really; don’t get a lot of traction on here, but like despite the UScentrism of the English speaking user base it’s really helpful and beneficial to share these things. The situation is likely downright horrifying to those being targeted right now and it really should be a priority for us to go out and counter this to the best of our abilities

[whump-in-the-closet]

when a powerful figure is reduced to kneeling. when the lord is forced to bow. when the exile stumbles into an unwelcoming bar. when the “beast” is chained by their horns. when a god is dragged behind their enemy’s chariot, a captive and trophy. when the loyal “guard dog” character is muzzled and the silver-tongued thief falls silent in horror.

that’s the shit

it’s about the contrapasso. the reversal of roles and the sudden, plunging terror of being unable to hide.

[thatrandomblogsays]

Low key want Aegon and larys and Helaena and Alicent to all run away to Essos purely so this can happen

[moonymirah]

there’s a little boy staring up at you.

he has a dull expression but he seems entirely content and occupied sucking on a lolly while a tiny hand of his is buried inside his father’s big one.

“megumi. greet her.”

you take in toji’s stern but soft voice and smile at the child as he continues to stay still. megumi lets the air linger for a couple seconds before he decides to bring the candy out of his mouth.

“hello.”

waiting for a few more seconds it struck you that that was all he was planning to say. but it was ok. he just seemed to be a boy of few words.

“oh, hi. it’s so nice to meet you.” you’d hoped the expression on your face reassured him that he had no reason to worry as you noticed his hand grip tighter against toji’s.

a simple nod was all you got before you heard toji speak up.

“i know this is a first date but i wanted to introduce you to him.”

his words were simple and clear.

your heart could only throb as you took in the sight before you; a little boy who was stuck to his fathers’s side, a hint of wariness in his eyes before he quickly averted his gaze.

this must be new to him and you internally winced at the thought of him thinking you were trying to take his father away from him.

but you greatly respected toji for bringing along his child — it was a straightforward and easy move to show you how important megumi was to him.

“and i’m happy you did. i’m looking forward to getting to know you better. the both of you.”

the slight small raise in the younger boy’s eyebrow only had you widening your smile before you caught him stare for a little longer than before; a tint of pink appearing on his cheeks.

send in a request !

[shizuart]

[a-method-in-it]

You know that Chris Fleming line that goes "Call yourself a community organizer even though you're not on speaking terms with your roommates"?

I honestly think every leftist who talks about the "revolution" like Christians talk about the rapture needs to spend a year trying to organize their workplace. Anyone who sincerely talks about building a movement so vast and all-encompassing that it overwhelms all existing power structures needs the dose of humility that comes with realizing they can't even build a movement to get people paid better at a badly run AMC Theaters where everyone already hates the manager.

[angelgigisworld]

[must-be-mr-boggins]

Taking a 5-second break from the Bagginshield angst to bring you this meme I created after an all-nighter, enjoy.

[hoshizoralone]

reflection

[largishcat]

it just so hard scaremongering to the modern peasant class 💀

[weatherbane]

halsin: -mermaid hair flip- everyone else: pathetic bleating

[morningsaidthemoon]

daydreaming..!

Also:

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[luveline]

hotch's little sister x spencer perhaps?

—Hotch’s sister graduates college, and Spencer is immediately smitten. fem, 1.6k

“She’s pregnant.” Emily shakes her bag of chips around. “But it’s not his baby.” 

Spencer frowns down at his sandwich. Rye bread is hard to cut, and the plastic knife isn’t putting up a good fight. “That’s awful,” he says. “He must be heartbroken.” 

“He’s distraught. Now he can’t decide if he wants to stay and raise the new baby with their first, or leave her and have split custody.” 

“What channel did you say it was on?” 

“It’s on NightDrama. I’ll find out the number.” 

Emily folds the empty packet of chips into a rectangle, then that rectangle into a triangle, folding the edges inside of a fold to create a parcel perfect for flicking at him. Spencer waits for it, tensing, but what he sees behind Emily steals his attention. 

She whips her head to follow him. 

You are, as Spencer watches you walk in, without a doubt one of the prettiest girls he’s ever seen. And it’s not like you’re a model, you don’t walk with any such confidence, but it strikes him immediately. You’re pretty. And he’s never seen you in the office before. 

They get visitors occasionally but the majority of people so deep into this office would've been checked at security and cleared to come up here. You hold a visitors badge in your hand, which you promptly clip onto your shirt when you see people looking at you. Your frown makes you prettier. Something about the way you stand seems familiar, but Spencer can’t put his finger on what it is. 

“Should we go help?” Emily asks. 

“Who do you think she’s for?” Spencer asks back. He’s thinking you’re here to speak to JJ. They have people like this occasionally who JJ knows from past cases, drifting in on a hope that there’s more detail to be found. 

Emily stands up from her chair. Spencer follows suit. When you see her facing toward you, some of your apprehension melts into relief. 

“Hi,” you say breathily, summoning a smile that, again, seems familiar. Not in looks, but practise, maybe. 

“Hi there, can we help? You look lost,” Emily says. 

She sounds more friendly than Spencer could’ve hoped to achieve. He doesn’t even wanna think about it, from how pretty you are he would’ve stumbled over even the most basic hello. 

“I’m here to see Aaron Hotchner. He told me his office is up the stairs, is that still one of these ones,” —you nod gently at the stairs that do, in fact, lead to his office— “or somewhere else?” 

“That’s the right one, the very first door.” 

“Okay,” you give a soft laugh. “Thank you. This place makes me nervous.” 

You leave to travel up the steps. Emily and Spencer watch without any casualness as you approach Hotch’s office door, and give a little knock. 

It’s more surprising to see it tugged open so quickly after. Hotch usually says, “Come in.” 

“Oh, you’re here,” Hotch says. It’s to Spencer’s shock and Emily’s clear joy when he leans in for a hug. The bearhug kind, no politeness or manners about their intimidating boss as his arms cross behind your shoulders and he pulls you in. “You’re late.” He squeezes you. 

You let it happen. “I hate your building.” 

“What the hell?” Emily whispers. 

“I’m so happy to see you. Come on, come in, I ordered lunch for us already.” 

Emily is shameless. She takes Spencer by the wrist and encourages him to the wall below Hotch’s office as he ushers you inside. The door remains ajar, perfect for snooping, and Spencer doesn’t know what it is but he lets Emily drag him forward anyhow. 

“If that’s his girlfriend, he should be ashamed,” Emily whispers. 

Spencer raises his brows. “Did you think that was romantic?” 

“I’ve never seen him show affection to anyone who wasn’t Haley, and when was the last time she was here?” 

Spencer tosses it around in his mind. Sure, it was quite affectionate by Hotch’s standards, but the hug was so… uncareful. He’d grabbed you and hugged you like he was gonna shake you around for fun, like a dad hugs his daughter. “How old is Hotch?” Spencer asks. 

“You don’t think that’s his secret kid.” 

“No,” Spencer says, though he sort of does. 

Emily gestures for him to hush as your laugh drifts down from the office. “You did?” you’re asking. “It’s so nice to be home.” 

“Of course I did. It’s like I promised, okay? You finished college like I asked you too, you’ve done so well, and now I’m gonna make sure you’re happy. Like I tried to do for Sean.” 

“Sean,” you sigh. “He didn’t even answer my grad card.” 

“I don’t know what to say about him, I really don’t.” 

A small pause. “Well, at least you answered.” 

“You know I would’ve come to watch you walk–”

“But you couldn’t. It’s fine, Aaron, I wasn’t really expecting you to make it.” 

“I’m sorry. Really. And I’m proud of you, after everything.”

“Thank you… The bag was better than you being there anyways. Coach?” You laugh breathily. “My friends keep asking me if you can be their big brother too.” 

Emily and Spencer turn to each other, mouths agape, Emily slapping his arm as they struggle to make no noise. Since when does Aaron have a sister? A young sister freshly graduated? 

Hotch laughs too. “Come and sit before your lunch gets cold.” 

Emily gets out her phone to text Morgan, she and Spencer pressed to the wall with their heads ducked. Hotch is a total enigma, because what the hell sort of secret is that?

When Morgan appears, it’s with all the answers. He rolls his eyes at their clear position of eavesdropping but leans against Emily’s desk to give them the information they’re craving anyways. “She’s adopted. Hotch was already in college at the time, but they’re close. They get along a lot better than Hotch does with Sean, that’s for sure.” 

“He sounds protective,” Emily says, side-eying the office. 

“Look, it’s not my business, but I just know it was bad when she was a teenager. Hotch is a drill sergeant for a reason.” Ah, Spencer thinks. The Hotchner father. 

Spencer picks at his hands. It explains the conversation he shouldn’t have been listening to, to a degree. He feels the guilt of knowing something he wasn’t meant to like a sodden weight, retreating swiftly to his desk and his forgotten sandwich.

It’s nice to hear Hotch laughing, but it’s your laugh that draws him in again while he tries so hard not to listen. It’s as attractive to Spencer as your frown had been when you walked in. He thinks about how you finished college, how you’re here, and he wonders if he’ll see more of you —how often will you come in for lunch? Spencer checks his hair in his sleeping monitor and feels like an idiot. 

“I’m sorry,” Hotch says a little while later, elbowing open the door with his back to the office, “we’ll have dinner soon, honey, I promise.” 

You reach up to give him another quick hug. “It’s fine. It’s just nice to be in the same city again.” 

Hotch guides you down to the bullpen with the same pride with which he introduced Jack. It’s unmissable, the love he has for you in just one touch against your shoulder. “Y/N,” he says, pausing at the bullpen, “Derek Morgan you’ve met. This is Emily Prentiss and Spencer Reid.” 

“Spencer Reid?” you ask suddenly, looking up into Hotch’s face like he’s lying, your brows pulled together in indignation, before you turn back to Spencer reverently. “You’re Dr. Spencer Reid?” 

He gets caught on his own breath. “Uh, yes?” 

“The Dr. Spencer Reid who wrote Methods of Continued Fraction Expansions?” 

Spencer feels heat like a kiss to each cheek. “Yes.” 

You turn to Hotch with a suspicious pout. “When I told you about the paper I was reading by a Dr. Reid a few months ago, you didn’t stop to think it could be your Dr. Reid? Or you just don’t like me?” 

That’s a sister’s scorn if Spencer’s ever heard it. 

“I thought you said Rain.” 

“I don’t think you did.” You turn back to Spencer. “I can’t believe it, I emailed you about Jacobi elliptical functions, you were so helpful, I owe you my degree.” You put your hand out with a beaming, beautiful smile, Spencer’s stomach totally flips. “It’s amazing to meet you in person.” 

He’s a germaphobe, he is, and that doesn’t just go away when you meet someone lovely, but he shakes your hand. You surprise him too quickly to think beyond taking your hand letting it happen. You’re, like, glowing. 

Hotch gives him a funny look. Mostly impassive, but not quite. 

Spencer abruptly lets you go. “I don’t think you would’ve needed my help to get there in the end. You clearly knew what you were doing.”  

Hotch’s eyebrows silently rise. 

You turn back to Hotch again, your smile catching. “I like your friends.” 

He smiles. “Let me walk you down to the lobby, honey.” 

You let him guide you away, giving the present members of the BAU a wave with just your fingers before you go. 

Morgan and Emily look at him heavily. “Spencer,” Emily says. “What was that?” 

He doesn’t want to say what he thinks it was, so he doesn’t. “She was nice.” 

Morgan’s laughter is immediate. Spencer has to walk off to the kitchen for a cup of tea he doesn’t drink to escape him and the connotation of his laughing. Spencer hopes he’ll see you again soon, though if he’s half a good a profiler as he thinks he is, he might end up in trouble with your brother.

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.