Homestuck 4th of July Headcanons

John: brought those little popper things to throw at unsuspecting ppls feet. He is v frustrated to find that the trolls don’t jump at all bc they’re so used to hearing strange and sudden loud noises that this is baby shit to them. Of course, John simply takes this as a challenge to up the ante aka slip them into ppls shoes when they aren’t looking. “Hey uhhh Terezi why aren’t you wearing any shoes?” “I don’t know john, I just like to feel the earth beneath my humble feet”

Jade: lovesssss fireworks she found some old ones on her island once and tried setting them off but it was meh, these are so much better and everyone is here to share the experience with her! Helps Jane barbecue up some veggie burgers and some hot dogs for everyone and Definitely Does Not slip any of the scraps to the Becs. Nope. None. At all.

Dave: is decked head to toe in obnoxious USA gear. Has an American flag muscle shirt with an eagle dramatically superimposed in front of it. Has a head band with flags attached by boingy springs at the top. He is wearing red white and blue jorts and his regular sunglasses have been replaced by super shitty jpeg ones that spell USA. Karkat looks at him, utterly disgusted, and says Dave what the Fuck are you wearing. Dave. What the fuck. Also, those Strider boys sure do love sparklers because he and Dirk have All of the sparklers. All of Them.

Rose: as a light player, digs it. As someone who doesn’t want to be reminded of her land bc she didn’t complete her quest, not so much. But she has to be cool about it bc Kanaya has never seen fireworks before and fuck if she’s going to let her very Gay girlfriend, with whom she is in Lesbians, have her first fireworks soiled in ANY WAY. And if there’s a few fireworks that look like purple and green eldritch horrors,,,,it’s a coincidence. Maybe. Dave says hey rose uhh you didn’t have anything to do with those creepy as fuck looking ones did you. Rose flutters her lashes. Why, no Dave. Of course not. I have never ever done anything like that ever in my life ever. Smiles v sweetly.

Kanaya: first of all, is a little frustrated that apparently these “fireworks” are capable of multiple colors when they light up, but she’s not?? That doesn’t seem fair but whatever it’s Fine. Rose thinks she’s being sneaky about her anxiety around fireworks but Kanaya totally picks up on it and Very Subtly tries to comfort her. Ahem. Rose, I Understand That You Totally Do Not Feel Uncomfortable About This Situation, Wink Wink, But Allow Yourself To Feel Comforted By My Presence. Not That You Need It, Obviously. Your Human Emotions Are A Mystery To Me. (To those wondering if Kanaya winked physically or just said the word wink out loud, the answer is Yes).

Karkat: this is so stupid why do all the fireworks have colors. Where are the gray, nondescript fireworks. What if the fireworks don’t want everyone knowing their goddamn fucking business. “Dude, you might be overthinking this, they’re just fireworks” hey Fuck You, Dave, I don’t give a shit if they’re your MOTHER who I had HUMAN INTERCOURSE with last night even though she is SO MEDICALLY OVERWEIGHT. *whispering* (john did I do those “your human female ancestor” jokes right). John wipes away a single tear. Yes karkat, your “yo mama” jokes were great. They were perfect. I’m so proud.

Terezi: she absolutely did try to lick a sparkler. everyone watched, horrified, but she just sort of shrugged and went “meh”. She and Vriska are watching and feeling,,,a weird déjà vu kind of thing? Like maybe they’ve seen this before?

Jane: has been barbecuing up some good eats all day! She’s got veggie burgers for Roxy and Jade (and some snausages just in case), she’s got hamburgers for the trolls who actually prefer them as rare as possible because let’s face it, they’ve got the teeth of bloodthirsty carnivores. She has bratwurst for herself, hot dogs for Dave bc he’s a baby with no taste for fine food, and just a big assortment of stuff for everyone. Dirk helps cook and he’s got one of those weird anime girl aprons and it’s awkward for everyone involved.

Jake: burns himself on every single sparkler. every single one. Dagnabbit! These foolish things really are a trick to get going, aren’t they? Dirk just nods and agrees with him as he and Dave share nervous looks and hide their hordes of sparklers. Jake has successfully managed to burn every single finger and also a couple toes. Karkat laughs at him for being bad at this despite being unable to light any himself. They both receive pre lit sparklers and have a sparkler duel. It’s Bad. They smell like burnt hair for weeks after.

Dirk: Sparklers Georg, aka Dirk, who lights approximately 99,999 sparklers per celebration and is an outlier that should not have been counted, tells Jake uhhhh yes. They’re very tricky to light. You’re absolutely right and I am a Fool. He hides the 37 currently lit sparklers behind his back. Roxy begs him to put away his anime girl apron. Dirk. Dirk. Her titties. They’re so anatomically incorrect. You’re not even straight. Yes, he tells her. I know. That’s what makes it Ironic™. She throws her shoe at his head. John yells fuck! in the distance because there goes his secret poppers prank.

Roxy: definitely knew that john put the poppers in her shoes. Brought so many glow sticks and has to explain to Kanaya, no you can’t drink them. No I really don’t think that it will help you glow different colors. Please- oh god no. On the bright side, Kanaya’s tongue glows for the rest of the night. Watches the fireworks while sitting in a tree because Callie likes to feel tall.

Sollux: chills with Aradia in the back bc we all know that she loves to watch things blow up. Sollux kinda grumbles that it’s just a bunch of chemicals and science shit and it’s really not that impressive and I could probably do the same thing with my psiionics I’m just saying. Just putting that out there in case anyone wanted to know. Aradia smiles and pats his shoulder reassuringly. No one cares, Sollux. Just shut up and watch the fireworks.

Femlock Theme Rec List

Here are some wonderful femlock johnlock fic’s that I’ve recently read and adore! Please remember to leave kudos and/or a comment for the Author, it makes their day and will put a smile on their faces!

Your name, sacred to my lips by Salambo06
Words: 1,930, M
Summary: Based on this prompt: “Okay so like one of those soulmate AUs where fem Sherlock grows up with the word ‘John’ on her wrist, and she’s 100% sure she’s a lesbian so she resents it with a burning passion. Every time she meets a man named John she immediately shuts him down as harshly as she can, horrified at the idea of being his soulmate. Then one day fem John Watson walks into St Barts and the second she introduces herself Sherlock immediately knows"A story told in moments.

how thick about us root by queerwatson
Words: 2,510, T
Summary: Though Sherlock had never been the sort to believe in a higher power, she constantly wished there was someone in particular she could blame for the four letter word she had ‘tattooed’ over her ribs. Obviously she had disdain for the idea of soulmates as a whole, but much of that was the fault of the fact that the first word her supposed soulmate was apparently meant to say to her was, What?

Woman: Re-defined by DPS
Words: 3,606, E
Summary: Sherlock, who loves solving an interesting triple homicide on any day of the week, also enjoys the more feminine parts of life. John teaches her to accept them, and in doing so, the female detective and doctor explore their flourishing feelings for one another: and it all starts with flowers.

Keeping Secrets by hubblegleeflower
Words: 3,942, E
Summary: Hiding. John did try, of course she did. She tried to hide, and tried to hide the fact that she was hiding. She thinks, now, that she must have known it wouldn’t work, on some level. Once she and Sherlock had crossed that line—finally—discovery was hardly even a risk. It was a certainty. But she tried anyway.

You look so good, to me by Mildredandbobbin
Words: 4,574, E
Summary: Sherlock was rudely awoken the next morning by someone jiggling his chest. He blinked open his eyes and saw John looking deliciously rumpled, his chin length blonde bob sleep tousled. He’d stopped shaking Sherlock’s arm and was busy looking down the front of his own t-shirt. At his breasts.Sherlock frowned. Something about this picture didn’t seem quite right.“Sherlock,” said John, his voice sounding funny to Sherlock’s ears as well. “Have we always been women?”

She’s got you high and you don’t even know yet by consultinggalpals (sansa_undergrind)
Words: 5,295, E
Summary:  The room was silent but for the soft snicks of the scissors and the women’s twin even breaths. John was concentrating on the task at hand, but couldn’t help noticing how relaxed and pliant Sherlock was under her fingertips. She found that she liked it, having Sherlock like this, her ever-buzzing energy reduced to a soft simmer. It made her chest tight with all the unspoken emotion that still lingered between them. She kept on snipping steadily.

Harpooned by okapi
Words: 6,567, T
Summary: Sentinel Sherlock and Guide John cross paths on a crowded Underground platform. They meet again the next day at Bart’s.

You are my unexpected by Links
Words: 6,782, E
Summary: Two women having fun with each other… What’s not to love?

lone and level sands stretch far away by queerwatson
Words: 19,493, T
Summary: Based on the 1999 film The Mummy. John Watson served with her regiment in a battle at the supposedly mythical city of Hamunaptra, barely escaping it alive. Now she’s washed up in Cairo, with no money and no way out of the prison she got herself put in for getting into a nasty bar fight. Enter Sherlock Holmes, a historian of sorts whose sister raided the gambling den and pub John had been frequenting and confiscated something John had taken from Hamunaptra. The Holmes sisters arrive unexpectedly to get John out of prison under the agreement that she’ll take Sherlock to Hamunaptra, and presumably whatever secrets lie there. From there, though, things get a lot more complicated - running into another expedition led by a bastard of a man from her regiment followed by Sherlock accidentally raising the dead and nearly causing what feels like the end of the world sort of complicated.

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Based off the graphic novel, The Coldest City, Academy Award winner Charlize Theron leads us in the female John Wick, Atomic Blonde. Directed by the co-director of the first John Wick, David Leitch, it is bound to have intense and unbroken phenomenal action choreography. The trailer even has a 30-some second unbroken sequence, reminiscent of The Raid. If a Furiosa Wick doesn’t appeal you enough, how about if I add James McAvoy, Sofia Boutella, and John Goodman… How about now? Espionage action thriller, set in Cold War divided Germany, with a terrific action director and a great cast. I would not even be upset if it’s connected to the John Wick universe.

Love Doesn’t Discriminate

for @sachijirachi. Merry Christmas!


For as long as John Laurens can remember, he’s had Alexander Hamilton written in the space between his second and third ribs.

Henry thought for a while that if he just tried hard enough, yelled loud enough, covered John’s skin in enough mottled bruises, Alexander would go away, replaced by Sarah or Isabella or something equally female. John knew better; you can’t choose your soulmate, and you can’t change them either.

Still, being face-to-face with him is a little overwhelming, considering.

John just stops for a moment after the man introduces himself, and the first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “For some reason I was expecting a redhead.”

Alexander’s eyes — dark brown, so deep you could drown in them, nothing like the cornflower blue that John had imagined — light up. “You’re John Laurens, then?” John nods and Alexander smiles, mouth fallen open like he can’t believe what’s in front of him.

“You’re even more beautiful than I pictured you,” John and Alexander say at the same time.

John’s already in love.


Angelica has her sister’s name.

It’s curled around her waist, Eliza Schuyler in curved, loopy handwriting. It’s supposed to be lucky, a sign of an unbreakable bond between them, and her parents encourage it, always.

Angelica is there for Eliza, no matter what. When it turns out that Alexander Hamilton has two names — Eliza Schuyler on his ankle and John Laurens on his hipbone — Angelica researches polyamory and reassures her sister that no, it’s okay, he does love you, he looks at you like you hang the stars, it’s okay Eliza. When Eliza has trouble with grades, with John and Alexander, with that asshole who called her names Angelica won’t repeat, it’s Angelica who helps her with her math, helps her brainstorm possible solutions, teaches her how to throw a punch.

Angelica will choose Eliza’s happiness over her own, if it comes to that. Every single time.


Molly dreams of one day finding her — the girl with Molly Burr seared into her skin. She and her older sister Sally talk for hours on end, speculating about their soulmates (Theodosia Prevost, for Molly, and Tapping Reeve, for Sally) — they could just google the names, but that would take the magic out of it.

Then, at fifteen, Molly becomes Aaron, and he is terrified of meeting Theodosia.

Because what if her soulmark still says Molly? What if Aaron has to see it, every day for the rest of his life? Worse — what if Theodosia won’t call him anything else?

And then, at twenty-three, Aaron meets her and his fears dissipate, because Theodosia Prevost (“Call me Theo, everyone does”) has Aaron Burr written on her collarbone.

God bless her, Theodosia doesn’t question why Aaron starts sobbing in her arms.


Thomas is so excited to meet him.

James Madison. A messy scrawl at the top of Thomas’s thigh. Thomas has known the name since before he could walk; Madison was his first word and James his second.

When Thomas is a junior in high school, his chemistry partner is a tiny boy in a sweater that’s far too big for him.

“Hi, I’m Thomas Jefferson,” he says, and the other boy smiles politely.

“I’m James Madison,” the boy says. “But call me Maddy.”

He didn’t recognize Thomas’s name at all. Thomas says nothing.

(During their first lab, Maddy rolls up his sleeves to show the name Dolly Payne emblazoned on his left forearm. Thomas swallows hard but keeps his silence.)

Moffat, as we all know, wrote (and writes) Doctor Who episodes. Two of his best characters are Vastra and Jenny, and if you haven’t watched the show…they’re John and Sherlock. But in a relationship and both women. Vastra is tall, brooding, dark and mysterious on the outside but incredibly caring on the inside, and Jenny is her Boswell - the show has even said that they were the ones to inspire Conan Doyle to write the Sherlock Holmes stories when they went back in time. Vastra and Jenny are canon female versions of John and Sherlock - And they’re married. 


While “Atomic Blonde” gets labeled as the female “John Wick”, it looks like South Korea has set out to make their own version only they’ve decided to go “Hardcore Henry” with a number of their action scenes.
Here’s the trailer for the upcoming film, “The Villainess”; what looks like a mighty fine action flick.

Sharing A Tent With Murphy

Pairing: John Murphy X Reader
Requested: no
Warnings: some mild cursing, and sexual references
A/N: I’ve had the idea for this bouncing around my head for awhile, and finally decided to put it down on paper. This is my first time writing about anything other than 5sos, so feedback would be greatly appreciated! Thanks for reading, and I hope you like it!
Word count: 1479


“What do you mean I don’t have a tent anymore?” Murphy exclaims angrily at Bellamy.

You were helping Clarke and Octavia tend to the sick after Murphy had brought an infection back to camp. Your father had been a doctor on the ark, and you were following in his footsteps until you had been arrested. You were caught stealing medicine for a little girl, but you don’t regret it since she got to live because of your actions.

“We needed the extra supplies and since you were banished, we weren’t going to let them go to waste,” Bellamy explains to him using his ‘I’m the boss’ tone. Sighing, Murphy looks down at the ground and runs a hand through his dirty hair.

“Fine, but where am I going to sleep now?”

“You’ll have to share with someone.”

Murphy laughs grimly, “And who would that be?” He sneers. He knew no one would want to share with him, everyone despises him. Bellamy looks around the drop ship until his gaze lands on you; your eyes lock together. You know what is about to happen; you were credited with being the nicest delinquent around.

“Y/N,” Bellamy yells over to you, “come over here, I need to ask you something.”

You place the medical supplies you had been sorting down. Rising from your kneeling position you walk towards the pair. You look at Murphy, and take in his appearance: his clothes are torn, stained with dried blood, and dirt is caked onto his pale skin, a sharp contrast. Murphy’s wounds still haven’t been cleaned, you realize.

“What’s up?” You question Bellamy, raising one eyebrow.

“Murphy is going to be sleeping in your tent, with you, until further notice.”

“What? My tent barely has enough room for me, let alone both of us,” you protest crossing your arms over your chest and jutting your hip out.

“I guess you’ll have to make it work.” Bellamy walks off, leaving no room for discussion. Sighing, you turn towards Murphy, who had been watching the ordeal with a bored expression.

“Well, come on then.” You motion for him to follow you as you lead the way to your tent. As the two of you make your way towards your tent you can hear people whispering, all of which concern the boy that is trailing after you. Murphy is playing strong though, keeping his head up high and facial expression locked into a firm glare straight ahead. One of the comments catches your attention, it’s louder than the others, the person obviously didn’t care if anyone heard them.

The boy had said, “She better be careful, or next thing you know she’ll be murdered by that psychopath.” You whip your head around without even thinking.

“Who the hell do you think you are? Last I checked, Murphy was the one helping the sick, sure he got them infected, but they’re the ones who hanged and banished him. Where were you? Out hiding away and doing nothing to help the camp? Yeah, that’s what I thought. So shut your damn mouth and do something useful with your pathetic life.”

With that, you grab Murphy’s hand and hurriedly drag him away. Unzipping the flap, you go inside and quickly tidy up the few things you have. Turning, you see Murphy shifting on his feet, unsure of what to do. You nod your head towards the bed, silently telling him to sit down. He follows your noiseless command, sitting on the edge of your makeshift bed of old blankets and animal pelts. Finally, you take in his appearance again, his face is dirty, clothes torn. Decidedly, you stand up and make your way to the exit of the small enclosure. Murphy’s head shoots up, you hold out your hand in a stop motion, telling him to stay put.

You walk towards the small tent next to the drop ship that houses whatever medical supplies people had been able to scrounge up. Entering, you head straight for the table that holds bowls of moonshine, then bandages, and finally a bucket that had been collecting water outside of the door. Once you situate the items in your arms you make your way back to the place you’ve started calling your home. All eyes were on you. No one had ever seen you snap like that, you were generally a nice level headed person.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” you told one group that was openly staring at you.

Slipping back into your tent you saw Murphy in the same position you left him in, staring intently at his hands. You place the bucket of water besides you as you kneel in front of him in between his knees. Gently you take his left hand in yours. After dunking a piece of cloth in the water you start to clean off his hand. Looking up at him once you shift to a moonshine soaked rag, you softly speak, “This is going to hurt.”

He met your eyes, only giving you a brief nod to acknowledge your words. As you dab at the wounds on his hand, an audible breath in and wince was the only reaction he let you see. You move from one hand to the other, repeating the process. When both hands were clean you stilled.

“Take off your shirt,” you demand in a firm tone.

“So, this is why you’re letting me stay in your tent, you’re trying to get into my pants. Y'know all you had to do was ask, right?” A smirk spread across his face.

“Trust me Murphy, if I wanted to, you’d be naked and begging by now.”

“Is that so?”

“You know it.”

“Then prove it.”

“No. You’re injured and I’m not really into the dirt and blood covered look. Now, take off your shirt.”

Giving you a, dare you say, playful glare he pulls his shirt over his head. You can’t contain the gasp that slips past your lips. His chest is covered in long, angry gashes. You put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down so he’s on his back looking up at you. Shifting your position, you now sit near his waist, you’ll have to lean over him to reach the top of his chest. You start cleaning him from his collar bones down to his hips, trying to ignore his tensing abs. Blushing you reach the top of his pants and glance up at him. You know the next thing out of your mouth is going to be incredibly embarrassing to ask.

“I-is there, uh, anything else, I, um, need to clean?” You awkwardly ask, looking anywhere but his eyes.

“No, but there is something you can suck,” he says, his signature smirk placing itself back onto his lips.

“Only in your dreams,” you retort after quickly composing yourself, and rolling your eyes. You grab his shirt from where it had been carelessly dumped on the ground. He takes it from your outstretched hand, then lets it fall back to the ground next to the bed. All you can do is give him an exasperated look.

“Sorry doll, I sleep shirtless and it’s time for some shut-eye,” he places his arms under his head, muscles flexing as he does so. You hadn’t even realized the sun had set while you had been intently cleaning Murphy up. You also hadn’t realized how tired you were, once your muscles had stopped their task they felt heavy and sore. It had become a familiar feeling at the end of the day after working long hours healing the impulsive delinquents.

“And what makes you think you’re getting the bed?” You place a hand on your hip, head tilting to the side.

“C'mon, I’m injured.” His lips form a mock pout, matching the sarcastic glint in his eyes.

Sighing you tell him, “Fine scoot over,” while climbing up from where you were leaning back on your legs by his legs. You situate yourself under the covers Murphy had been pulling out from underneath him.

“Just a warning, I’m a sleep cuddler.” You turn your body, facing away from the boy, onto your side.

“Trust me, I don’t have a problem having you closer,” you hear him whisper right before you drift off to sleep. Making you question if he had really said that.

You woke up the next morning with a warm body pressed against your back, and a hand resting on your boob. For a second you relish in the warmth the body provides, before realizing who it was holding you. Struggling to move away from the embrace, the hands around you tighten. Wiggling for awhile longer with no use, you slump against him, giving up on getting away. Lightly you feel the all-too-familiar smirk of John Murphy press against the back of your neck. That asshole was awake.

“Murphy, if you don’t get your hand off my boob, I’m going to castrate you,” the threat came out of your mouth in a low growl.

Diamond Heart [Hannibal x Reader] Mentor Relationship

Originally posted by mikkelsenmads

Wrote this as a quick pick-me-up while studying for my chemistry exam. You should all know that I’m a big Hannibal fan. I have a copy of nearly all the books, and the Silence of the Lambs is my favorite movie. I love Anthony Hopkins, but more than that, I love Mads Mikkelsen.


PS: I’m way too poor to go to John Hopkins, but I tried to base my writing off facts… and my actual college campus. :) One year at John Hopkins for their graduate program is around five semesters at my university… Think on that… Think about how poor I am…


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[There is a get-together at 221b, Everyone is there]

Eurus : Listen up faces. In order to save us all some time, I will call all the males ‘Johns’ and all the females ‘Jennies’.

John : John is actually my name!

Eurus : Then out of fairness to the others, you will be called ‘Slagathor’. Johns, Jennies, Slagathor, I will be in my room. If you need anything, feel free to bother Mycroft.