they look so domestic

It’s funny, I was already revisiting a couple highlights from All the Best and Brightest Creatures yesterday as all of this was going on, and I kept seeing enthusiastic consent headcanons on tumblr and being like, shit, yeaaaa, and going back to read another chapter. 

That fic is like 100k of unending negotiation of consent, I mean everything going on around them is ultra fucked but John cannot shut his mouth during sex, he is like reading Sherlock’s mind and articulating consent for the both of them at the same time, like “it seems like you don’t like this particular thing, what about this other way?” *sherlock overwhelmed and unintelligible grunting* “it seems like you are saying you want this thing, is that right?” *sherlock helpless nod* like he is superhuman in that fic, damn.

Domestic Olicity Headcanon

Felicity sitting in bed with a messy bun and oversized shirt, a lap top and a bad guy file, working, while Oliver, shirtless, rubs her feet … (This may or may not have appeared to me in a dream and it was glorious).

ExoFam!AU Part 12

“Can you not sing so loud in the shower?” Junmyeon groaned and lifted the pillow next to him that still carried a little warmth from the head resting on it earlier in the morning. He put it over his own head and sighed quietly, standing up after a few moments and walking toward the bathroom.

The door was cracked open, like it always was. Junmyeon headed straight to the sink, picking up his toothbrush and putting a little toothpaste on the end. He reached his arm into the shower and put the toothbrush under the spray, mumbling, “Using your water for a minute, hold on.”

“Like you don’t do that every morning.” Yixing rolled his eyes with a smile, tilting his head back to rinse the shampoo from his hair.

Junmyeon mumbled again around his mouthful of toothpaste foam, “True.”


Ok but like Joss Whedon saying that there would be no after-credits scene in AoU because ‘nothing could top the shwarma scene’ made me so mad, so just for you, Joss, I have compiled a list of examples that could have been used for an after-credit scene.

• A preview of Guardians II
• Some kind of lead up to Civil War
• More baby Groot dancing
• Kate Bishop and Clint Barton
• Any of the Avengers dancing to Beyoncé
• A preview to a Black Widow movie
• A preview to a Hawkeye movie
• What the fuck happened in Budapest
• A preview to a Black Widow/ Hawkeye movie, co-starring Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Sam Wilson
• Melinda May, Pepper, Natasha, and Maria interacting
• Peggy motherfuckin Carter because why not
• Natasha’s process for dyeing/cutting her hair so often and still always looking flawless
• Domestic Avengers dealing with each other
• Avengers finding out that Coulson is alive
• Avengers meeting Skye
• Avengers protecting Skye and friends
• A showing of Captain America The Winter Soldier because it’s doubtful that any of your movies will ever top that
• Beyoncé
• That is all
• Also make a Black Widow movie
• Seriously
• Get the fuck on that would you
• No wait actually
• A Black Widow movie by you would kinda suck probably
• Get the Russo Bros to make a Black Widow movie
• Now
• Do it
•Also fuck you bc the whitewashing was completely unnecessary k bye


The Boxing Dynamic Duo of S2E4, Dead Weight

Hugh and Tom Derrimut

Like Dot shining in S1E10, Death by Miss Adventure, this episode is all about Hugh. Although we have adored him from the beginning, it is even better seeing him in this new light.

The episode started with Dot attending to Hugh’s head wound, which he suffered from boxing in the gymnasium with young gangsters to keep them off the street. A number of interesting things happened in this opening scene. One is that they looked so domestic together the whole time, almost like a married couple, especially when they started bickering. Hottie had indeed come a long way since S1. Two is that Hugh didn’t want Dot to be worried, so he deliberately shielded her from some work related bad news. His need of being a protector made it more understandable where he was coming from when he and Jack had the talk later about the paradox of pursuing a modern woman. Last but not least, even though it was early, Jack knew exactly where to call to find his constable, so it must have become his routine stop before work; I find it incredibly sweet.

We soon learned that sweet Hugh was anything but sweet in the boxing ring, especially when he was stepping in to defend Tom against Freckles Delahunty’s rant. Here it is again, Hugh acted like a protector even though he and Tom looked about the same age. The reason was later revealed through his heart to heart conversation with Dot; his father was killed while trying to help a stranger who was being beaten by someone bigger and stronger. Instead of becoming bitter or cynical toward life as a result of his father’s untimely death, he chose a profession that honored his father’s memories and principles; that is, to stand up for the weak. I must give Hugh’s mother a lot of credit for raising him to become such a wonderful young man. It couldn’t have been easy.

His protege, Tom, also lost his father (to the war), but he took a different turn and joined a gang instead. With Hugh’s help, he stepped away from it and tried to focus his energy on boxing. As expected, it was not as easy as it sounded. Because of his little brother’s accidental killing of a constable during a brawl, his family was being blackmailed by a rival gang. As a result, he had to fight in the Boxing Troupe in order to earn money to pay for the extortion. When he got pummeled by his opponent, who not only was physically bigger and stronger but also illegally filled his gloves with lead, Hugh stepped in and won the match for him, fair and square.

Like Miss Fisher said to Jack, “This was Hugh’s fight”. He was fighting for Tom and his family, and he was fighting for his own father and what he stood for. He gave Tom and his family a new found hope for a better life, knowing that someone cared enough to stand up for them, and it was an incredible gift.*

*Of course, Hugh didn’t accomplish this by himself, Mrs. Big Arthur’s self sacrifice also helped, which will be discussed in tomorrow’s post (“The Motherly Love Dynamic Duo”).

(Posted 19-Apr-2015)

searlait fragte:

"Okay, so I was looking into the properties of shards cells when exposed to the properties that make them-" "I wasn't talking about the science, goose." "Oh... then yes, I would certainly like to build a snowman with you."

(Yes, i know,  i know, “NOT EVERYTHING IS ABOUT SCIENCE, ALARIK. “ ;D)

anonym fragte:

Yes well you guys are forcing a ship on two guys who are friends. Not to mention that you turned their trip to Japan into some sort of "secret gay marriage" thing. Dan looks at Phil for two seconds and its "THEYRE SO DOMESTIC OMMMGGG". I feel bad for them.

yeah it is bad and i hate that too i actually think the heart eyes howell  thing can get really annoying at times. and the marriage thing is a joke for all i know?? we’re not forcing it on them?? we (the most of us) don’t scream “KISS” or “PHAN” at them?? we always post reminders before a live show to not do those things… pls let’s not turn this into an argument the post i made wasn’t even meant to be taken seriously!!

“Oh, Jorge, love, grab some spices from the market if you could!” Avery called out as the boy now turned man rushed from the small home she, Lady, and Felix had made on Tortuga. Shaking her head and laughing she turned back to go looking for Narissa. “We’ve become so domestic sometimes I must laugh,” she laughed as she found the older woman. “What are you doing in there?”


You look so pretty when you cry 
Don’t want to hit you but the only thing 
Between our love is a bloody nose, busted lip,
And a blackened eye. 

“I’ll be back soon, Eboni!” Emoris called as she bounded down the steps. 
“Wait a minute! I didn’t give you permission to leave!” Eboni yelled, standing up from the couch.

Emoris walked into the living room, softly sighing under her breath. Lately it seemed that Eboni had been more and more forgetful of their discussions. He’d given her permission to go to get groceries and run some errands well over a week ago. He had given her a list of things he wanted, given her their card, and even allowed her to have the keys to the car. She knew better than to argue, and plastered her best smile on her face.

“Eboni, it’s okay. We had a discussion about this, but I was dumb and asked you while you were busy,” Emoris lied, turning her eyes towards the floor, “I’m going to the grocery store and—“
“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WEARING?” Eboni roared, forcing Emoris to flinch.
“Eboni, I’m just going to the store. I’m wearing shorts and a shirt. I’m just running errands and going to the grocery store.” Emoris desperately tried to appease him.
“Like hell you are in that outfit! Go change. NOW.” Emoris noticed the change in his eyes but bit her lip.
“Eboni, it’s really not a big deal. It’s just a shirt and shorts and—“ CRACK.

Eboni’s fist connected with her face, jerking her head sideways and causing her eyes to water. Immediately her vision turned read and one of the hissing noises that accompanied this feeling of panic threatened to pull her under. Without thinking Emoris backhanded her twin brother. Her ring left a gash across his face and he stumbled backwards a few steps. Grabbing her throat he ran her up the wall, Emoris’ legs thrashing as she tried to get out of his grip. The black hatred in his eyes burned through her and she gave a pathetic, gasping whimper. Eboni dropped her to the floor in a heap, grabbing the keys and stomping towards the door.

“We’ll deal with this later, Emoris Lillian Blakewood. You’ll regret hitting me.” His voice had lost all tone, flat-lining as he paused with his hand on the doorknob.
“Eboni, wait! I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please don’t leave!” Emoris cried, chasing him towards the door. By the time she made it to the door he had stormed outside and gotten in the car, slamming that door too.

The engine revved and he left in their black pick-up, leaving Emoris standing in the front hall. Her skin grew cold and clammy, the thought of pushing her twin over the edge and being left alone becoming more than she could handle. She trudged back into the living room, wincing as the tears rolled down her face.

From Thomas Jefferson to Martha Jefferson Randolph, 26 April 1790

And so we’re half way through my countdown to May’s general election. Twenty-five entries (including this one) and almost all of them have been to do with politics or the election itself.

Time to reward you for staying with me so far, I think, with a past fast fiction. Here’s a story of exactly 200 words, that – while not ostensibly about politics or elections, or the ‘domestic tranquility’ so beloved of Americans – looks just a little into a future where the constant argument as to the primacy of personal freedoms or security has been settled.

More in Link

Another in my series of blog entries, counting down to the UK’s general election in May 2015.