– Submitted by Anonymous
All posts by Panya
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF STILL CAN’T BELIEVE IT.
omg
your life must be complete
you got tO SEE THE BEARD AND THE CHEST HAIR CLOSE UP OMG HOW ARE YOU STILL ALIVE HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT BEARD AND CHEST HAIR OMFG
tom
that shirt has buttons
tom
we can all see most of your chest
tom
tom
tom
did you forget we have real summer on this side of the water
tom
did you not pack appropriate shirts
tom
we don’t wear flannel in the summer
I need a gif for when someone I follow, but who doesn’t follow me, reblogs me. The Wheel of Tumblr; I feel vindicated.
Song of Synne: Chapter 2
Read this chapter at: AO3 | firechildren.net | <— Previous chapter
He can hear the whispers.
He cannot remember a time when he could not hear the whispers, around him. There is no silence for him.
Sometimes he cannot make out what they are saying, and he conjures words in his mind. Other times, the speech is all too clear, and he longs desperately for the unintelligible susurrus, which is terrible, but hurts less. Always, always, even when he is alone, he knows there are eyes upon him.
How could there not be? He is a prince of Asgard.
He does not know if he can be what they expect of him. Even if there were not — Thor — he fears he would fail to live up to the expectations of his people. As it is, how could he not falter in comparison to his mighty brother, so obvious an exemplar of Asgardian values?
He wishes to be a skald, fears he suffices only as a jester. What worth his skills in seithr to a society whose highest value is combat? It is long since a man’s magic drew the derogatory epithet argr, but he hears it hissed in dark corners.
Why can they not value him for what he is? Truly, he does not wish to compete with his brother for the throne; he wishes, childishly, that his father could rule forever. Underneath that wish, though, is the dread of Thor’s ascent to the throne.
He is beginning to be called Silver-tongue, for his wit and skill at deception, but he does not ever lie to himself. His brother is mighty, but he is rash, and hasty, and disinclined to listen to counsel, even from his brother. These are not qualities sought in a king.
Yet what can he do? Any word he speaks is considered by most to be envy of his brother. And his father is so tired. Sometimes it shocks him, how very tired his father is. He dares not add to Odin’s burden.
All he wants, truly, is for life to be easy. Simple. Pleasant. To be honoured for his own skills, not merely as Thor’s brother, Odin’s son. Something for himself.
Maybe then the whispers would stop. Maybe then he could stop comparing himself, ceaselessly, to all he knows, and falling short.
A Rose By Any Other Name: Hiddles. In a towel.
A Rose By Any Other Name: Hiddles. In a towel.
(from “Joss Whedon’s Seventh Avenger”)
“Tom Hiddleston was hardly the blackhearted god of mischief he plays on screen. Friendly, polite and talkative, he was a delight. Every morning for him began with a grotesquely healthy smoothie made from pulverized romaine lettuce and green apples. The only thing disconcerting about him was his inability to answer the door wearing anything more than a towel. Fool me once, Loki, just once. Shame on you.”
– – – – –
“The only thing disconcerting about him was his inability to answer the door wearing anything more than a towel.”
“…his inability to answer the door wearing anything more than a towel.”
“…answer the door wearing anything more than a towel.”
“…wearing anything more than a towel.”
“…a towel.”