Hey look.
little me and me right now 
💜

Hey look.
little me and me right now
💜



bcmjs:

The Fifth Estate photocall at TIFF Toronto, 2013 (x)

bcmjs:

The Fifth Estate photocall at TIFF Toronto, 2013 (x)

(via why-cumberbatch)


100percentrebeltimelord:

Peter Capaldi, Jenna Coleman, Steven Moffat and Chris Hardwick explain 50 years of Doctor Who in 30 seconds (x)

(via a-small-british-whovian)


thegloomypuppetshow:

servaris-condonaris-amaris:

they’re coming

in the distance you hear them 

the Whovians have returned

image

(via a-small-british-whovian)


welovesherlolly:

sherlolly-is-jolly:

liberiadsomnia:


Mornings
“Molly.”
“Hmm?”
Something soft and warm touched her cheek, and proceeded to draw a line down her jaw. She hummed, pleased at the way she’s being awakened, but still caught at the edges of a pleasant dream. The kisses continued, moving now to the space beneath her chin, warm breath punctuating every kiss.
 “Molly.”
 An arm wrapped around her torso, and she felt herself cradled against a warm chest, the hand supporting the side of her neck, slightly pulling her upwards in a careful embrace.
 “Molly wake up.”
 She stretched out an arm to brush hair away from her face, and smiled, now fully awake but refusing to open her eyes.
 “Don’t make me repeat myself another time.” The voice whispered, deep and gravelly from sleep. “Please Molly. It’s morning.”
 Barely able to hold back a giggle, she opened her eyes to meet ice-blue ones tinged with gold. They hovered above her, accompanied by furrowed brows and a pouting mouth.
 “I’m on vacation, Sherlock, I should be able to stay in bed for however long I want.”
 The pout turned into a mischievous grin. “I said wake up. I didn’t say anything about leaving the bed.”

I’ve never really drawn people cuddling before, so I had to have a reference photo for this one, which I unfortunately cannot find. This is essentially how I draw when I have something I’m trying to imitate. 
Yep, the hands are still crap, but I figured it was time to get to the next drawing.

Thanks for the pic and the fic.

This is adorable :3

welovesherlolly:

sherlolly-is-jolly:

liberiadsomnia:

Mornings

“Molly.”

“Hmm?”

Something soft and warm touched her cheek, and proceeded to draw a line down her jaw. She hummed, pleased at the way she’s being awakened, but still caught at the edges of a pleasant dream. The kisses continued, moving now to the space beneath her chin, warm breath punctuating every kiss.

 “Molly.”

 An arm wrapped around her torso, and she felt herself cradled against a warm chest, the hand supporting the side of her neck, slightly pulling her upwards in a careful embrace.

 “Molly wake up.”

 She stretched out an arm to brush hair away from her face, and smiled, now fully awake but refusing to open her eyes.

 “Don’t make me repeat myself another time.” The voice whispered, deep and gravelly from sleep. “Please Molly. It’s morning.”

 Barely able to hold back a giggle, she opened her eyes to meet ice-blue ones tinged with gold. They hovered above her, accompanied by furrowed brows and a pouting mouth.

 “I’m on vacation, Sherlock, I should be able to stay in bed for however long I want.”

 The pout turned into a mischievous grin. “I said wake up. I didn’t say anything about leaving the bed.”

I’ve never really drawn people cuddling before, so I had to have a reference photo for this one, which I unfortunately cannot find. This is essentially how I draw when I have something I’m trying to imitate. 

Yep, the hands are still crap, but I figured it was time to get to the next drawing.

Thanks for the pic and the fic.

This is adorable :3

(via sherlolly-is-jolly)




cloudywithachanceofbuckbeak:

Sherlock Holmes can read most people like a book, Molly included, but that doesn’t matter.  He knows her and he doesn’t need to be able to read her body language to know what she’s going to do.

And he does nothing to stop her.

Look at his face.  He expects it. He knows that he’s disappointed these people, these precious few that love him unconditionally, and he knows that they’ll lash out.  He could stop her.

And he could.  Easily.  Look what he did to Mycroft. But he doesn’t. He does nothing to stop her blows.

And Molly, sweet Molly, no longer stammers and begs for apologies to harsh words with her eyes. No, she demands them, out loud. She is furious.  And when she says ‘stop it,’ it’s not in response to his lashing out.

She means ‘stop this self destructive behavior.’

She means ‘look at all these people who love you.’

An East wind, indeed.

(via sherlolly-is-jolly)


Space Dorks