Game of Thrones: Season 4 Bloopers (Comic Con)

It’s Sherlocked Development


"Yeah I don’t know, I’m kind of into the crowd at the Hog’s Head at the moment, you probably haven’t been there"

this started to venture a little away from hipster!harry but i did my best to reign it back ah well. complete with ironic dark mark tattoo and home-distressed and decorated deathly hallows denim jacket

(via msaether)


pointy!batch - SDCC 2014 edition.

(via northray)



every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up

ah but when you turn 34 you’re two dancing queens and thus having twice the time of your life. and at 51 you become the dancing triumvirate and three golden crowns are forged in your honor

lots to look forward to

(via beautifullyheeled)

Ben at SDCC, July 26th 2014

(via splix71)


Benedict Cumberbatch attends The Hobbit panel during Comic-Con International 

(via threepatchpodcast)


Bitchy Sherlock is my favorite Sherlock.

(via cumberfoil)

rimming ficlet. I don’t even know.



John has the simplest name in the world, he knows. It’s one of the first things he learned about his own name: it was his and it was boring. One of the simplest, most common names on the face of the planet. When he got older, he learned only slightly more interesting things about it: it means God is gracious, the Lord’s mercy. In its verb form in the original Hebrew, it refers to the heartfelt response by someone who has something to give one who has a need. Someone told him that when he went into medicine. A little bit older, and he’d had a girlfriend who read linguistics and she told him it was a palatalised consonant, the J sound. And most recently, when he was much, much older, it became the single most interesting sound he’d ever heard, the best name he could have hoped for, at least when it was coming from Sherlock’s lips and the genius was having such problems even getting through the one measly, boring syllable.

"John, I can’t, John, J—" Sherlock breaks off to push forward again, emptying the rest of his breath in something between a sob and a scream in the pillow beneath him. Sherlock’s cock slides into a dark cold stain in the bed sheets as his legs give out. A visible shiver runs through him. John pulls back and clicks his tongue. 

"Mm, no, baby, come back here," he says. "You can, you can, shhh." The words come out soft, but he grips Sherlock hard by the hips and guides him back up off the bed. Sherlock goes willingly, pliable, if shaky, his exhale quiet and watery as his cock drags over the sheets and lifts back up again. He props himself back up on all fours and hangs his head between his shoulders, a pronounced tremble going through his thighs.

The pause works and it doesn’t; John’s hungrier than ever, heady with the sight before him. The deep dip between Sherlock’s scapulae, the curls plastered to the nape of his neck, the bend of his spine as he offers up his arse to John.

John drags his tongue over Sherlock’s sweaty skin, breathing him in slowly. "Good boy, that’s it, you can do it," John soothes, sliding a hand under Sherlock’s heavy ballsack and giving his cock a gentle stroke. The touch is light, the grip soft, not half enough to give him what he needs, but Sherlock whines like he’s never wanted anything more. There’s something about it, that sound, that takes John apart, that drives him to possession, and he has a half-felt apology on his lips as he drives his tongue back into Sherlock’s hole with vengeance. 

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I feel like a legend.

I was like.. wait… that was me. It was not romantic. But I loved the fuck out of my tie-died romper. And my Basketcase tape. 

(via tundrawoman)


The Hobbit Cast Interviewed at Comic Con  

(via guixonlove)


Sometimes Sherlock wakes up to find John watching him sleep. He still gets shy when he sees it. Maybe even blushes a bit.

(via guixonlove)


John Barrowman on meeting Benedict Cumberbatch. (x)

He is basically us.

(via cumbercrieff)

(via cumbercrieff)


BC  +