I feel like this is a well known headcanon but Caitlin Farmer is majoring in marine biology and is the coolest fucker anyone on SMH team has ever met. Also a bit of chowder because you know they’re soulmates.
She went on one of those sleepovers that aquariums do for little kids when she was like seven and fell in love with the ocean.
she put her sleeping bag under the shark tunnel and didn’t sleep all night because she just wanted to be friends with them whenver they swam past.
she’s been to an aquarium in every city she’s been to.
some people’s first port of call in new cities are nice restaurants or art galleries. cait’s are aquairums
she only goes to ones that respect their animals and care for them, with programs to rehabilitate sea animals and release them
(i got real excited so this got long the rest is under the cut!)
“Jimin be quiet..” You whispered, a small moan escaping your lips as Jimin started to speed up, a breathless chuckle coming from him. You pressed your hands against his chest as he pushed himself in and out of you, your foreheads pressed together as you both kissed passionately, the small pecks turning into a hot mess.
You squirmed as you started to reach your climax, clawing at his back you moaned his name against his lips as you orgasmed, your juices spilled out of you, along with a series of whines and groans.
Jimin bit his lip as started to slow down, his seed spilling inside of you, filling you up.
You gasped at the feeling of his juices inside of you, you grinned, pressing a finger to his lips. “Sh..” You raised an eyebrow, lifting your head to kiss him once more.
He rolled his eyes, rolling off you and laying beside you, his arm automatically wrapping around your waist.
“Y/N..?” Jimins voice croaked out, breaking the ‘after sex’ silence.
“Mhm..” You nuzzled your head into the crook of his neck, tiredly.
“You know I love you right?” He kissed the top of your head, sighing happily at the sight he saw beside him.
You, your naked body arched in your usual sleeping position, the way your fingers curled and un-curled as you started to drift off. Your mouth slightly open as you inhaled and exhaled the air.
He smiled, you looked blissful, beautiful. You closed your eyes, nodding. Jimin laughed quietly, shaking his head as he closed his eyes too, drifting away into a new dream.
“JUNGKOOK.” You shouted from the kitchen, staring wide eyed at the pile of flour and peanut butter that wallpapered the floor. You heard the steady, cautious steps of your son, his head poked through the door frame, afraid to walk in just yet.
His eyes widened as he saw what you pointing at, holding his hands up, jungkook shook his head, “Wasn’t me.”
“Yah! What have I told you about lying?” You raised an eyebrow, grabbing a towel from the side to clean up the mess.
Jungkook stayed silent, looking down at his converse, a pout forming on his face. You frowned, pulling him in to a hug.
“I’m sorry for shouting at you, but you shouldn’t just leave it. Tell me and i’ll fix it.” You smiled up at him, swiping away the salty water that poured out of his eyes with your thumb before kissing his forehead, shooing him away as you cleaned up the rest of his commotion.
“Y/N?” Jimins voice called out for you, you smiled, wringing out the towel before walking to the bedroom where he stood, his lower half wrapped in a creme towel.
“Yes?” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, kissing his jawline softly.
His breath hitched at the sudden contact, “Are you sure you’ll be okay? You’ve been rushing to the bathroom for a whole week.” Jimins concerned voice made you pout, you looked up at him, a soft smile replacing the pout.
“If i can handle two males, who both act like 3 year olds 24/7, i’m sure i can handle a little sickness bug..”
But it wasn’t a sickness bug, and you knew that.
“I’ll call on you, and if Jungkook is any trouble, just call me and i’ll get someone to look after him for a couple of hours.” Your husband sighed, at how he couldn’t look after you for just a day.
“Theres no need for that, now, get dressed or i’ll tear that towel off you…” you purred, your hand sliding down his front, palming his member. He groaned, you chuckled, kissing him on the cheek before walking back to the kitchen.
“Yah! Jagi, why are you such a tease!” Jimin shouted, his voice laced with desperation and disappointment.
You grinned, pouring the milk into Jungkooks cereal, placing the plastic spoon into the bowl before bringing it to him in the living room. He thanked you, immediately slurping at the milk.
Jimin ran through the hall and into the living room where you and Jungkook sat, He kissed his sons forehead, grabbing his spoon and eating the cereal on it. Jungkook whined, before grabbing the spoon off him, annoyed at his fathers selfishness.
Jimin moved to you, his lips pressing against your forehead before moving to your lips, you kissed back, the taste of apple chapstick lay on his lips.
“And who are you trying to impress with that chap stick you have on?” You raise an eyebrow, locking eyes with him.
“Only the most important woman in the world of course.” He grinned, giving you one last kiss before rushing out of the door shouting his usual goodbyes.
This was your routine now. Every Day. Every Single Day. You weren’t complaining, but you were starting to miss those days where Jimin and you used to cuddle up on the sofa, making love while cliché horror movies played in the background.
But now you had a child, only 2 years into your relationship. Your mother had once said, “The longer you stay pure, the longer you’ll be youthful..” Well that didn’t last long.
Jungkook giggled at T.V screen, pointing at a ‘Furry, red monster with no teeth.’ You grinned, shaking your head at your sons playful attitude.
You decided to leave college when you found out you were pregnant with Jungkook, you were studying psychology, Jimin studying the same. You missed those days too, where Jimin would sit beside you in your classes and tell you the most basic way of writing an answer or explain what you didn’t understand.
You felt your stomach churn. Jungkook whipped his head sidewards to look at you, you took steady breaths, smiling at him as if everything was okay.
But it wasn’t.
You stood up, rushing to the bathroom, where you fell to your knees, your hands gripping the sides of the toilet as last nights meal poured out of your mouth.
This had been happening for a couple of weeks now, and Jimin started to notice how you would wake up earlier than normal, and rush to the bathroom.
You had told him it was a sickness bug, that you were just feeling queasy due to it being winter.
Looking to your side, you opened the drawer, pulling out a pregnancy test, the box was made of cardboard, an image of a pink stick with a electric screen, showing a negative and a positive sign.
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you sat on the toilet pulling the test out of the box. It was plastic and felt lightweight in your hand. You took a deep breath, doing your business on the sponge end of the stick.
“Eomma? Is everything okay?” Jungkook voice seemed wary, full of curiosity as to why you ran out of the living room.
“Yes, everything is fine..” You shouted, reassuring your son that nothing was wrong, that you weren’t sat on the toilet peeing on a stick to see if a human was growing inside of you.
You heard nothing, implying that Jungkook thought you were fine. Pulling the stick from underneath you, you placed the cap on and put it to the side, waiting impatiently as you washed your hands, staring down at the pregnancy test.
It had been 5 minutes and the screen was still loading on the stick, your anxiety was getting to you.
You clasped and unclasped your hands, it had been 5 minutes and nothing no sign had come up. You picked it up, shaking it slightly to see if it would miraculously worked.
You set it back down, from the corner of your eye, you saw the screen switch.
Your hands covered your mouth as you picked the stick back up, You were shocked, happy, scared. a variety of emotions spilled out of your eyes as you stared at the stick, your eyes focusing and unfocusing. You were going to have another baby.
What about Jimin? How would he react? What if he didn’t want another child? What if he didn’t love you anymore.
You wept silently, placing the stick back down on the counter. You were happy, so happy that you were having another baby, you were excited to be going through the same experience you had with Jungkook.
You were ecstatic.
But you were scared, the fact that you might have to go through this alone because Jimin might not be able to handle another child scared you. It made you upset. It made you think, think of made up clips of your husband leaving your home, an angry look plastered on his face.
You didn’t know how to not think of it. The anticipation of Jimins reaction to a new baby made you worry.
You stood up, looking into the mirror, you looked a mess, the mascara that once lay delicately on your eyelashes dribbled down your cheeks in wet streaks. The rouge lipstick that covered your lips smothered around your mouth from wiping it so many times.
Turning the tap on you cupped your hands, they filled with the clear liquid, you splashed it onto your face, grasping a towel from your side and rubbing every inch of mess off.
After a couple of minutes of vigorously rubbing your face, most of the makeup had forced itself onto the once clean towel.
Throwing it into the washing basket, you looked into the mirror once again. You still looked like a trainwreck, walking out of the bathroom you walked back into the living room, cuddling up to the oblivious soon-to-be big brother.
The keys rattled in lock as Jimin unlocked it, his shoes flying to the shoe rack seconds after he stepped through the door. The sound of Jungkook’s small feet padding against the carpet as he charged towards his father his arm, Jimin’s smile broadened as his arms opened, embracing his son.
Jungkook moved away, grinning up at him.
You stood at the doorway, watching your husband and son, you smiled, Jungkook was no longer having trust issues with Jimin which was amazing to see, every day Jungkook would rush to the door to greet his father, his cute bunny smile widening by the second.
Jimin let go of jungkook, leaving him to run back into his bedroom. You raised an eyebrow at your partner, tapping your lips. He rolled his eyes, pressing the plump, pink skin against yours, his hands cupping your cheeks. You kissed back, practically melting into his arms.
“I’ve missed you.” He mumbled inbetween the kiss, you let out a giggle.
“Its been 8 hours, calm down gorgeous.” You smirked, pressing your hands against his chest you pushed him off, walking into your bedroom. Jimin followed you, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked through the door, you threw one of his comfy shirts at him, along with some black joggers.
“How was work?” You asked, sitting on the bed, opening up the book that lay on your bedside table.
“Same old, same old.” He shrugged, walking into the bathroom.
Your eyes skimmed over the words, “Jungkooks been golde-”
“Y/N, what’s this?” Jimin walked out of the bathroom, his hand wrapped around a pink stick.
You couldn’t read him, his face wasn’t blank yet it wasn’t emotional. The book slipped out of your hands as your mouth hung open.
You fucking idiot
“I-I-Jimin..” You stuttered, lost for words.
“Are you pregnant?” He whispered, sitting beside you, the pregnancy test still clenched in his hand.
You nodded, your vision blurring as tears started to slide down your cheeks. Jimin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest. You sniffled, leaving a mark on the light grey shirt.
“Please don’t leave..I don’t want you to leave…Please Jimin…” You wailed, scrunching up his shirt with your fists. Not letting go.
“Baby its okay..” He said in his usual calm tone, he kissed the top of your head, stroking your hair softly, “I’m happy.”
“Wait, what…?” You lifted your head up, confused at his reaction, you had imagined him lashing out, but he was acting like his normal self.
“I said I’m happy.” He chuckled, holding out the pregnancy test like it was a piece of lost treasure her had found, “You have my child growing inside of you, why wouldn’t I be happy?”
He started to kiss your face, collecting the salty liquid that surfaced on your skin. You laughed, laying back as he kissed you passionately, he placed the stick onto the bedside table delicately.
“Are you sure?” You whisper looking up at your lover, those brown orbs piercing through you, they pierced through you lovingly, filled with compassion and happiness.
“If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t have not wore a condom on purpose.”
I HAVENT PROOF READ THIS SO IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES OR SENTENCES THAT DONT MAKE SENSE IGNORE THEM OR LET ME KNOW <3
Request: Hello! I can say without a doubt that I love your writings!❤ I also was wondering if you could do a newt x reader where she goes missing and when it gets too long everybody loses their hope except for Newt. Later on he finds her being tortured, saves her and it’s a grand and really fluffy reunion?:) Sorry, I just crave for angst and fluff😂
Warning: Allusion to torture
Word Count: 3,095
Pairing: Newt x Reader
Requested by Anonymous
Requests are currently open! Feel free to send one in
Pickett crawls from the pocket of Newt’s discarded vest, top leaves drooping from exhaustion. Stumbling forward, the tiny creature pulls itself up by the bed’s legs and hops onto the mattress. Gripping the headboard’s bars, Pickett inches past the pillows and avoids Newt’s hand when it jerks forward.
Once he’s in range, the bowtruckle reaches forward and tickles Newt’s nose. He jumps back, slipping off the mattress and swinging wildly when Newt smacks at his face.
Pickett’s still swaying off the bed when Newt jolts up, rubbing his forehead with one hand and reaching for you with the other. “I had the worst nightmare, love. Love?”
His terror peaks for the third night in a row this month when his hand only hits empty sheets and a cold half of the bed. He opens his mouth to shout for you before he remembers: you’re gone.
He takes in two shaky breaths before he hears Pickett’s squeals. “Pickett, what are you doing up here? You should be asleep.” He lifts the bowtruckle from the front of the mattress and slips out of bed, carrying him to a tree. “Yes, I know you don’t want to be here, but this is where you’re staying. Do you want to stay in that tree? I didn’t think so.”
He peels Pickett from his hand and places him on the tree before turning back into the bedroom and closing the door.
Careful to step over the clothes, crumpled up pages, and overturned pots of feed, Newt crosses the room and slides out the desk’s chair.
The two of you had decided to place a small bedroom in the case for any situations where you needed to be ready to respond to a creature at any moment. For the most part, it had been used when one was about to give birth, but more and more often, you and Newt had been spending nights down there after long hours of work studying a new creature.
Newt drops his head in his hands as he stares at the pages scattered in front of him. Notes that mean nothing at 3 in the morning fill the papers, but Newt still rifles through them, furious with the tears dripping down his cheeks. He has no time to cry. He has to find you.
Seven Things About Supernatural: 12x20 - “Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes
So tonight I’m going to be realistic and admit that rewatching this ep in the next 24 hours is not high on my list of things to do, and just get this written so I can have an emotional palate cleanser.
This episode is a perfect circle, and I appreciate that structurally. We get that first visual of “Mary” in the chair – in this case a shifter trying to use her image against Ketch – and then end with her there after the events of the episode. It also brings the season around full-circle: A Winchester in the BMoL’s clutches, being interrogated, Toni working with Ketch (an associate she rejected as “a psychopath” at the beginning of the season), etc.
I absolutely love the Banes twins. Love them. And that love hurts a lot right now because of how this episode worked out.
There is no faulting Max for his choices. Dean may have tried to stop him, help him make a better choice (just like Bobby did with Dean in the wake of Sam’s death that first time around), but it’s Max’s choice to make, and if you’re gonna fuck up, fucking up for love is probably the most okay way to do it.
I also think Max got a shitty deal here: that’s not his sister. She’s close, but this faux!Alicia is always going to be something a little less, a little wrong, and he lost his soul to get her. And they both lost their mom. And fuck, my heart is fucking broken.
Pulling back from that, out from the story view and into the world of media, I am so tired of watching PoC, esp. Black women, get killed on this show.
Our four regulars are white dudes, and that is what it is, but the supporting cast rotates a lot. It’s not fucking rocket science to add some recurring allies who aren’t white dudes – like, say, THE BANES TWINS – into the mix without fucking that up at the first opportunity.
Like, the optics this year have not been great in terms of PoC and life expectancy. It’s great to have more diversity on the show, and a show like Supernatural requires a body count. I’m good with that. But shit, this year’s optics have not been great, and maybe we could let women – and especially Black women – survive now and again?
These were writing choices. And yeah, taken in a vacuum, they’re even kind of interesting in the sense that they’re callbacks with their own contexts and implications (e.g. Max as a queer dean mirror), but I’m too disappointed about it tonight to really dig in there.
As much as I am upset about the A plot of the ep, the B plot with Mary seeing Ketch for what he is, discovering the cover-up with Mick’s murder, and finding out about the order to kill American hunters, punching him in the junk, etc. was very satisfying.
Seriously. I was ready for her to kill him with that goddamn stapler. And hey, brass knuckles are still brass fucking knuckles. I approve. Fuck ‘em up, Mary. Fuck ‘em up.
Also, did anyone else get a Bluebeard vibe toward the end of the ep?
So hey, Dean’s emotional intelligence when he’s not in immediate contact with the source of his distress? Pretty good. Dean using his words to call his mom because he’s struggling? Pretty good. Dean actually checking his voicemail when he sees it’s from his mom? Pretty good.
Good job, Dean. Good job.
Can we take a moment to feel for Sam in his moment of Having To Cope With His Brother Who Is Upset About His Boyfriend Getting Mind-Whammied By Lucifer’s Baby?
Sam has been hearing this all night. Sam cannot fix this, Dean. Sam is worried too, Dean. Sam would like it very much if you could just deal with some of these feelings more productively, particularly by admitting that Cas is your boyfriend and you are worried about your boyfriend, Dean.
Oh hey, here’s a gun. Maybe that will distract you, Dean. Please, in the name of Chuck and all of his (douchebag) angels, please let it distract you, Dean. Sam is tired.
OH HEY, KETCH’S REVEAL ABOUT FUCKING UP THE WINCHESTERS’ WORK. Mary’s in captivity now, but just fucking wait until she tells her boys about this shit.
Because hey, Mary’s a hunter of an older school, but she’s either learned some discernment or is expressing it a lot more now that she’s confronted by the alternative.
I am not going to be sorry to see Ketch go.
Bonus Thing: Much as I was not enthused about things about this ep, it was beautifully shot/directed. Go Speight. May you (and Amanda Tapping) have many more eps in your future. Yes.
Bonus Thing #2: Novelty yarn, pink velour, and HSN jewelry? How are those things NOT an immediate tell for evil?
Bonus Thing #3: Somebody please let Dean use the grenade launcher. Please.
I kinda put my own skew on this, but I hope the prompter (and everyone else!) enjoys it regardless.
As with everything I post, I have grand plans to add onto this and give it more oomph. So you’ll have to pardon the abrupt ending - I could think of literally nothing to add that wouldn’t have meant another 10k words…
Unbeta’d and written over a month, late at night in between uni assessments. I can’t vouch for the quality of this fic, but I had a ton of fun writing it :)
I see your name pop up as a notification on my screen, but I wish you could say those words in person. No matter how many times I tap the screen, I won’t be any closer to you. I’ll take what I can get, even if it is just a post or message, but I want you here in person.
Pairing: Wade x Reader Words: 881 Warnings: References to torture, mentions of illness, swearing (honestly, what else do you expect from Deadpool lol) A/N: I know I’m a primarily MCU-centric imagine writer, but I liked Deadpool so much I wrote a little something and wanted to share it with you all.
Wade has lost count of the cracks on the ceiling far too many times.
He taps his fingertips against the medical table, nearly forgetting that his entire body is strapped to the rough surface. He wonders what is to come tomorrow; what other kind of fucked-up test that bastard “Ajax” could conjure up.
Request: Can you do one with Castiel x reader is really shy and smol, where she somewhat hides/is really quiet around everyone (but especially Cas)? And at first he kinda gets hurt by this because he doesn’t understand that she’s just shy so he confronts her, but then it’s really cute and fluffy? Thank you so much! I love you blog so much btw❤️
A/N: I hope you guys like this one :) Also! I am going to be posting every Sunday just so I can get myself on a schedule, and btw my requests are still open.
You sat alone in the kitchen of the bunker. It was in the early morning where everything was still dark and quiet just how you liked it. Steam from your coffee filtered up into your nose and you sipped it little by little.
You were a quiet person so little moments like this was heaven to you. It was rare to have a nice cup of coffee with pure silence. Living with the Winchesters was great, but you never really had time for yourself.
Light footsteps sounded behind you and you sighed into your mug. Guessing by how heavy the footsteps sounded you assumed it was Sam, “Morning Sam,” you sipped your mug. Sam walked passed you and grabbed his own mug from the shelf, “Morning,” he grumbled which singled the rest of your conversation with him.
I just finished my 3rd rewatch of Stargate SG-1 and honestly Samantha Carter is one of the best female character I’ve ever seen on television. Why? Let me explain:
She’s smart. VERY SMART and she litterally outsmart every men, everytime. It’s just delightful because they need her brain to fix all the intergalactic problems and are constantly baffled by her impressive scientific knowledge. I mean litterally baffled, the camera just zoom on their silly faces, it’s so funny omg. Her main “rival” on this field, is Rodney McKay who is also extremely smart but compared to Sam, he’s just so pretentious and he will never miss an occasion to remind you that you don’t have his magnificient brain. Sam will never try to make you feel worthless compared to her. NEVER.
Sam is also badass, OF COURSE. She will kick your ass if you mess with her or the rest of the team even if you’re a false terrifying God or any other powerful being who control the galaxy. She’s a skilled ranked member of the US Air Force, trust me you just don’t.mess.with.her. ok?
She’s HUMAN. She cares, she loves, she cries, she yells, she laughs and she makes mistakes. This character is not over sexualized and it feels so fucking good. It’s okay if Sam prefers to work very hard on a new alien device instead of going out on a date. It’s okay to feel awkward around people, it’s okay to be introverted, it’s okay to be a nerd. Well, there’s this thing with Jack, there’s Pete and other guys but it’s never too much or awfully cliché.
Her friendship with other women like Janet, Cassie and Vala is just so beautiful and SO precious.
She’s a role model since I was 8 years old. Every girl needs a Samantha Carter in her life.
[Pretend they’re still in high school in 2011. Also I am stuck between 4 titles: Houston, you are my Problem” “Stand By, 13″ “Okay, Houston” and “Aphelion: n; the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is farthest from the Sun.” Votes/comments would be appreciated]
Tucker texted Danny as soon as he heard the news announced on the radio, but Danny wasn’t answering. He logged into D00M in case Danny was trying to marathon away his woes, but no such luck.
With a sigh, Tucker pushed up from his multiple-monitored desk and started walking to FentonWorks.
He greeted Mrs. F’s grateful surprise with a forced smile. “He’s up in his room,” she said, and he nodded, walking the familiar route with deliberately slow steps.
He stood outside the door for a while, unsure of what to do. If Danny wasn’t answering his texts, maybe it meant that he needed his space and barging in now would be the last thing he wanted. But, then again, he was already here. And it probably wouldn’t hurt too much to at least try.
Tucker knocked on the door.
A rough voice on the other side of the door said, “Go away, Jazz, I’m not in the mood,” like it was the fifth time he’d had to say it that afternoon. Which, given the kind of girl his sister was, was not surprising.
[TCW timeline] Obi-Wan is injured, Cody escorts him to Coruscant. Because of some medical reasons Obi-Wan has to stay awake. Cody makes him not to sleep, though it hurts them both.
“Sir, I’m going to need explicit permission to touch you.”
“I am sorely tempted to deny it,” Obi-Wan rasped, somehow managing to grin. He was swaying where he sat, two hours into the hyperspace trip to the nearest medical fleet, and had started to slur.
“Oh, very well,” the General huffed, and Cody, nodding, wrestled his head out of his bucket and, laying it aside, sat across from Kenobi in the cramped shuttle and reached out with gloved hands, lifting up a bearded chin to flash a handtorch into blown pupils, ignoring the immediate squirm under his palm as Obi-Wan’s half-hooded eyes flinched away.
“How are you feeling, sir?”
“Tired enough that you should stop using that damned honorific,” Obi-Wan mumbled. They had about another hour, Cody figured, before the poison overcame what he knew were prodigious reserves of the Force’s goodwill. The fleet, on the other hand, was ninety minutes out.
“Given our difference in rank, I’m tempted to ask for indemnity against assaulting a superior officer,” Cody said lightly, and held Obi-Wan’s face more firmly between his palms as he felt a deep wobble resonate beneath him, trying its best to tilt his General sideways. “I don’t want to hurt you, keeping you awake.”
“Mr. Kix was quite clear,” Obi-Wan sighed, though he didn’t seem much bothered anymore by the fierce, quiet import of Kix’s instructions - You keep him awake, or he dies. “I can assure you… that…”
“Hey,” Cody said sharply, and administered what he guessed would be the first of many quick, firm taps to Kenobi’s cheek, which got him a pair of dulled blue eyes snapping briefly open and a nasty throb of disloyalty turning over in his own gut. “Focus.”
“I’m open to - suggestions,” Kenobi said, smiling again, and he was infused with a deep affection below the exhaustion, Cody could tell, something which was telling him he would survive.
“Explain the history of the Jedi Code to me,” Cody said, grasping at straws but knowing, immediately, that he had made the right choice as Kenobi’s forehead creased in a frown and he let out a low whine. “You stop talking for more than two seconds, and I’ll slap you.”
“Oh,” Obi-Wan breathed, boneless and going limp. “This is indeed a day of grievous punishment.”
Cody laughed at that, hard, and it hurt; flattening his palm and bringing it to Kenobi’s cheek again hurt more, though he tried to fix it with a brief swipe upwards, a comforting drag of his fingers through the General’s hair. “Get started, sir. Two seconds.”
“Master Odan-Urr was born sometime before 5000 BBY,” Kenobi groaned, and Cody, holding his breath, began to count down the seconds.