OH MY GAHHHHD! It’s started!
And in case you don’t fawn over Cumberbatch, McAvoy, and Gaiman enough to know what’s going on: BBC Radio has started a radio adaptation of Gaiman’s novel “Neverwhere,” featuring Benedict Cumberbatch as Angel Islington, James McAvoy as Richard Mayhew, Christopher Lee as The Earl, and Bernard Cribbins as Old Bailey—just to name a few of the actors in the cast that I recognize and love.
The first episode aired today and is up on BBC Radio’s site for free listening around the world! GO GO GO.
(Also, this is one of the few Gaiman novels I haven’t read so no spoilers please! And if these outfits don’t fit the characters, it’s probably cause I don’t know how Gaiman intended them to look. It’s just what I pictured.)
Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars?
I could really use a wish right now, a wish right now, a wish right now.
- “Airplanes” by B.o.B.
- - -
Sorry, this is a really half-assed WIP. I got lazy and need to go out for a bit so I’ll finish this later.
So here’s the deal with this pic:
In this Wholock AU, John decides to build his own replica of the Tardis and sits in it every night, wishing the Doctor would come to help him find and save Sherlock from the Fall.
When it’s all done, this picture is going to go in the Tardis on my blog so it’ll make more sense later (see current theme).
Also, Sherlock will look more like a ghost in the finished picture.
Crossover AU in which Lestrade becomes stranded in the past, meets the doctor, assumes the pseudonym “John Riddell” and …well…you know the rest (I won’t spoil the new DW episode if you still haven’t watched it).
The postcard reads:
So, I’m having quite a jolly good time as John Riddell! Picked up a lady friend today—someone you all may have heard of… She goes by “Neffie.”
P.S. Anderson, guess who’s got a pet dinosaur!
This is just a quick doodle before bed. Tomorrow, I’ll draw a lot more stuff for the dinosaur DW ep. And just in case anyone hasn’t seen it yet, I’ll tag these with “spoiler” (River would be proud ;D)
They say that smell is the strongest sense,
When it comes to memories…
But it hurts too much to remember.
- - - -
Here, have some Sherlock angst :> Been too long.
EDIT: Whoops! Sorry for the repost. I wanted the picture to show in full size so I had to separate it into two images. Stupid tumblr.
Oswin Oswald, the girl who can!
Man! Moffat just never ceases to amaze me. Never thought I’d get over the prospect of losing Amy and Rory on the show but ahhhhh, Oswin is such a great character!
Excited to see how Moffat “frees” Oswin :D
(I couldn’t decide which way to flip the pic so I decided to include both, one in color and one in line art)
So I said I’d draw something before I started work, right?
Well… that plan failed. But good news: I may have more time than I thought. First week was great :D (Oh! And a big thank you to all you guys for the “congrats.” <3)
Anyways, WHO’S SEEN THE NEW DOCTOR WHO EP???
Everyone by now, probably. I’m so late.
But yeah, I was so afraid when Moffat first announced that there’d be someone replacing Amy and Rory, but leave it to Moffat to make another amazing character! I’m so won over!!
But ahhh, now I’m so stoked to see how Moffat manages to explain Oswin’s…er…escape from her dilemma (being vague in case anyone hasn’t seen the ep yet). Anyone have theories?
P.S. This is obviously a WIP. I’ll finish it later…
Here. Have some Avengerlock!
Ok so it’s been a looooooong while! I’m so sorry, guys, and thank you to all who are still following me (lol). So, here’s what I’ve been doing: job hunting, job hunting, eating, sleeping, and more …job hunting. (sigh)
But yus, I’m back! I won’t be posting as much as before but I’ll try to post at least once a month.
aaaaand… stay tuned for more Avengerlock! :> Is that still a thing? Was it ever a thing? Haha, well, whatever. I’m out of ideas and too brain dead from job hunting to care. First time in a long time that I’m idea-blocked.
(btw if anyone has requests or suggestions, feel free to drop me a note and maybe I’ll get inspired or something)
“John,” said Sherlock earnestly, “if I — if I’m not quite —” he stopped and tried again — “John, whatever happens, you will understand, won’t you?”
At the time, John had not realized the full import of those words.
Sherlock did not live to be 100.
But John would be haunted by the memories even when he was 99.
- - -
AU: Where Sherlock and John meet as kids and become the best of friends, and Sherlock does not fake his Reichenbach death but actually sacrifices his life for John’s. Also, in this version, Sherlock’s a year older than John vs. Doyle’s version where John is 2 years older than Sherlock if I remember correctly (And for those of you who couldn’t tell, the quotes are from Winnie-the-Pooh, A. A. Milne’s original book version)
I haven’t been posting much lately because… guess which site I finally checked out?? Pottermore is now officially on the list of things that are taking over my life. If you have an account, feel free to add me!
Anyways, I’ve started a new blog dedicated to everything in the HP universe, but mainly focusing on the story of Elliot Brie (my Pottermore self/chara). I’ll be doodling and drawing hp comics (mostly PM inspired) for that blog. So if Potter is your cup of tea, come check it out!
Presenting… my Pottermore self and her backstory!
Click HERE to read the full version. Or read on for the short version…
(edit: I made this version even shorter… with some comic relief)
- Username: MahoganyBlade23834 (feel free to add me :> )
- Name: Elliot Brie, nicknamed “El”
- House: Hufflepuff
- Year: 5
- Personality: Friendly, loyal, protective (of everyone but herself), trustworthy, loves food and comfy things, and is a bit oblivious.
- Relationship with a guy named “Pinot”: Pinot Wentworth comes from a respectable, pureblood, Slytherin family. In other words, he’s your typical smug bastard. He’s one year older than El but they end up in the same Defense Against the Dark Arts class cause El’s just that badass at dueling. Pinot is picked to duel her and he’s like, “WTF man?? I don’t want to waste my bamf-ness on this midget of a Hufflepuff.” El’s all like, “I give no fucks” and sends him flying across the room before he even has a chance to react. At first, Pinot’s all like, “Fucking bitch!! I will ‘Voldemort’ you into a dead headmaster!” but no matter how hard he tries, he still can’t win against El. Then, after a while, Pinot’s feelings start to change and suddenly one day, he’s like “Bullocks! I think I might like her…a little.” And “a little” turns into “a lot” and “a lot” into “damn, I can’t get enough of her/him” until finally, they become kind of like an old married couple. ….and the story goes on from there.
I’ll be developing El’s story on this tumblr with doodles and comics and such. Also, apologies in advance for any mistakes with the Potter world (ie: the totally inaccurate robes). It’s been half a decade since I read the books.
Inspired by this hilarious message I found in my inbox this morning:
@largerthanlifeus: You win the internet!
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【A Hobbit-Sherlock crossover crack-fic to explain the pic:】
Bilbo Baggins of Bag End had always been a respectable hobbit who minded his own business and led a quiet life. He ate five meals a day (seven when he was particularly hungry, as hobbits are known to get), smoked pipeweed as well as any other hobbit in the Shire, and got on surprisingly well with most of his neighbors. He was an all around well-liked hobbit and whenever young hobbits in their mischievous tweens needed lecturing, Bilbo would always be held up as an exemplar of proper hobbit behavior.
Unbeknownst to his fellow hobbits, however, Bilbo had begun to feel quite peculiar of late. He was visited by the strangest dreams at night, dreams of Big Folk the likes of which he had never heard of or seen. One man in particular seemed to be at the center of all his dreams—A tall, thin, pale man, with tousled black curls, keen blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and an angular nose. He wore a long dark coat, the collar of which he had a habit of flipping up (a habit that Bilbo found exceedingly and inexplicably annoying), and a blue scarf. This man addressed Bilbo as “Jaawwn,” a name which the hobbit was altogether unfamiliar with and yet felt oddly comfortable to assume.
One day, as Bilbo was taking an afternoon stroll through his garden, he heard a rustling in one of his berry bushes followed by a frustrated snort and squeal. Quite alarmed, the hobbit had half a mind to run and call for help, for hobbits are not fond of strange, unexplained things. But before he could decide what to do, a fat pink foot wriggled out of the bush, followed by another pink foot and another aggravated squeal.
“Why it’s a pig!” Bilbo cried in surprise and amusement, “Of all the things that could happen to a hobbit on this side of the Brandywine, a pig stuck in a berry bush!”
He hurried over to the bush and freed the poor creature from its unlikely trap. The pig sniffed his savior gratefully with his wet snout and gave a happy, watery snort.
“Well be off then, you foolish thing,” Bilbo said, merrily, and with that he turned to go back into his hole.
But the hobbit had not taken more than four steps before he felt the familiar wet snout pressed up against his left leg. With several unsuccessful shoos, Bilbo continued up the garden path towards his hole and, quickly opening his door, attempted to lock the pig out. Much squealing and snorting ensued. After an hour or so, the hobbit had no choice but let the insistent creature in.
“If I you make a mess of my beloved hole, I will throw you out no matter how much you snort or squeal, Mister Pig,” Bilbo said, resolutely. In his heart of hearts, though, he had already taken a curious liking to this berry-bush pig.
Within a few days, however, this pig proved to be an incorrigibly inconsiderate guest. It had a strange habit of bringing in dead animals, especially dismembered parts of dead animals, and left them lying in the most inconvenient of places. It also had a love for milk, which was quite odd for a pig, and its insatiable appetite forced Bilbo to have to buy milk almost once a day.
“Why am I always the one who gets the milk?” the hobbit sometimes asked indignantly, but all he ever received in response was a wet, amused snort.
And yet, despite all the trouble that Mister Pig caused, Bilbo had grown quite fond of him and had even knitted a scarf for him—a nice blue scarf, though why the color seemed to matter so much, the hobbit did not know.
The Sackville Bagginses had come by shortly after Bilbo had first stumbled upon Mister Pig and had inquired, quite rudely, if Bilbo had taken their pig. The pig was apparently to be roasted for Lucille’s upcoming birthday.
“No I have not taken your pig or any pig for that matter!” Bilbo said irritably, “Unlike you lot, the Bagginses of Bag End do not, have not, and will never be thieves of any sort! Good day.”
And with that, he shut the door quite firmly in his cousins’ faces.
The next day and the day after and still the day after that, the Sackville Bagginses came back, asking the same question and receiving the same answer from Bilbo. No matter how much they strained their eyes at each visit, they could not see anything stirring in Bag End, and after a week of persistent badgering, the Sackville Bagginses gave up their search for the lost pig.
“Well that’s that!” Bilbo said, triumphantly. The pig, clad in his blue scarf, waddled over and rubbed his wet snout affectionately against Bilbo’s leg. It snorted two happy, damp snorts and then let out the most curious squeal… A squeal that sounded vaguely like “Jaawwn.”
A week later, the pig disappeared, leaving only a few muddy footprints by the front door that seemed to spell the letters “S.H.” The very next day, a tall, old wizard clad all in grey arrived in the Shire.
“Would you like to accompany me on an adventure?” he asked. “There is a dragon who very much wishes to see you.”
Lol. Don’t scrutinize the art or fic too much… both are half-assed cause I’m especially lazy today.
Crap sketches are crap… but I wonder if the characters are recognizable at least >.>
Also, this was going to be a continuous horizontal pic but tumblr’s annoying with sizing.
And I wonder if you can tell that I got lazier and lazier L to R. Poor Jawn looks like utter shit. What is quality art?
I’ll wear your colors my dear
Until you’re standing right here
Next to the one who adores you
Whose heart is beating for you
Like a lighthouse guides
A shipwrecked sailor safely from the sea
I’ll wear your colors til you come back home to me
- - -
Train of thought: England goes to war again and John is called to serve. Sherlock, never knowing how to show his emotions, hides any signs of sadness over John’s imminent departure. He denies all feelings of loneliness, longing, etc. until John leaves. Then, in the privacy of his now empty rooms, Sherlock begins to mope. He eventually develops an attachment to everything that John used to wear and even starts to wear John’s jumpers because it brings him a curious sense of comfort. When John returns, he is greeted with a Sherlock dressed in one of his old sweaters, looking quite awkward because John’s clothes are much too loose for Sherlock’s lanky body. But John says nothing because he understands. Sherlock has missed him.
(…just a silly doodle for a silly thought)
The Sherbit: Unexpectedly spirited ‘holme’
“Your name—I remember it now. Your name is Sherlock Holmes.”
In which, Sherlock gets turned into Smaug and needs Hobbit!Watson to remember his real name to free both of them from the spell.
(My train of thought went something along the lines of: Smaug = dragon & dragon = Haku, Smaug = Cumberbatch & Cumberbatch = Sherlock, therefore Sherlock = Haku… yeeah I don’t think there’s anything I can’t crossover with Sherlock)
- - -
And here’s little Mycroft floating down after them.
He had a little too much cake.
Disclaimer: I totally traced the faces from Miyazaki’s Spirited Away (like you couldn’t tell…) but the hair and clothing alterations are my own.
I present to you…
Molly Hooper, Shieldmaiden of Baker Street.
“The one who counted.”
She’s disguised in the robes of the enemy.
Everytime I rewatch The Return of the King I get all these feels, and the Eowyn feels are among the greatest (up there with all those hobbit feels). I’ve watched the trilogy at least 20 times now (for each movie) and I still cry. Every. Fucking. Time.