" you're the only one who
understands, mate. "

1 month ago with 141 notes, via , from

1 month ago with 6,181 notes, via okayophelia, from unfairlymostfairly

4 months ago with 894 notes, via brodinsons, from arsonist01

11 months ago with 1,225 notes, via black-nata, from black-nata

11 months ago with 64 notes, via thorlokid, from thorlokid

thorlokid:

I’ve had several requests for a Hiddlesworth fic rec so here we go. If you came seeking pg fluff, you came to the wrong blog.


ergonomics by rangerdanger- NC-17 - office au. work is hell but chris tries to cope.


All The Small Things by aeon_entwined- NC-17 - In which Tom wants Chris to get a Twitter, dammit.

I Found A House by black_nata- NC-17 - ”There’s a water-slide.” he says, full lips curving upwards in a smile.

sweet dreams, sweet cheeks by rangerdanger- NC-17 - Australian holiday/ mechanic AU.  tom’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere. the rest, as they say, is history.

White Flag by Emerald Embers (emeraldembers)- NC-17 - Tom likes how Chris looks when tied up.


sticking fingers into sockets by rangerdanger- NC-17- a series of au fics based on gif sets/au banners on tumblr that include: cop/serial killer au, flatmates au, and tom-runs-a-fortune-five-hundred company and meets chris in a bar au. (I cannot recommend these enough guis, especially the second one)

drop it doe eyes by rangerdanger- NC-17- tom, who is nineteen, spends an interesting summer at his host family’s farm in australia.

catastrophe & the cure by aeon_entwined- NC-17- The game show was fun. Hell, it was hilarious and Tom loved just about every minute of it. Then Chris had to go plop his jacket against his chest like a goddamn coat-rack and Tom knew it was on.

Digital Getdown by sovietdistilled- NC-17- A sleepless night on the press junket leads to some sexting.

Risky Business by Ange_de_la_Mort- NC-17- After Tom wins his Empire Award, Chris feels slightly jealous.


Welcome To The Universe by aeon_entwined-NC-17- Chris and Tom sneak off from the wrap party for the Avengers. Banter and celebratory shagging ensues.

Come On and Turn Me On by aeon_entwined- NC-17- His overwhelming physical presence is what draws Tom to him like a damned moth to a flame.

TIME SPENT IN THE FOREST, THEN ON THE BEACH by soltian- NC-17- “Ah,” Tom deadpanned, dropping his water and unlacing his shoes, rubbing one ankle with a put-on wince. “I think I twisted something.”

Late by heaveryrule- R- There’s someone horny in my bed. 



11 months ago with 42 notes, via , from
Some of my favourites so far: SUPER HOT Hiddlesworth! (part thirteen)

thorki-smut:

** “A Break” [one-shot] Rated: GA (Hiddlesworth, angst)

Their argument had grown tiring over the last few minutes, and with both of them running on minimal sleep, too much caffeine and busy work schedules, they couldn’t take much more of this.

“Dog Eat Dog World” Rated: GA (Hiddlesworth, protective!Chris)

So Punk’d has been revived, Liam’s been Punk’d, and Liam wants to Punk Chris, roping Tom in to help him.

“Risky Business” Rated: NC-17 (Hiddlesworth, blowjob)

After Tom wins his Empire Award, Chris feels slightly jealous.

“Untitled” (“Glamour Interview”) Rated: NC-17 (Hiddlesworth, blowjob, catching!Chris)

Tom all wet in a towel while Chris blows him as he attempts to talk to the interviewers.



fickleobsessions: So this picture right? Drawsaurus and I could NOT shut up about this picture this morning and immediately started brainstorming this Maurice-esque Hiddlesworth AU. And well. Here’s the start of it. They are well into a new era, old Queen Victoria long buried now, and it feels as if without her hand laid upon the world’s shoulder in matronly restraint, mankind can scarcely keep apace with new each new piece technology and each new form of art. Tom had thought upon his graduation from Oxford that this time in history was like a peach ripe for the picking. Yet the group of fellows he went to school with, educated and well-bred though they may be, bore him. As does the world that they offer him though he sits for their paintings, and listens to their poetry. He hears and sees echoes of himself in their work but finds it hollow. No spark transfers from their works to his heart. There is no thrill, he now knows, in being their muse, and his reward for reaching adulthood has proved to be nothing more than sherry, playing cards and the expectation that he devote equal time to business and politics as well as art. Yet none of his friends seem to notice or care, and his melancholic moods are deemed appropriate and no solution is given or encouraged. In fact his fellows seem to prize his sadness all the more. Tom finds himself made a symbol of a youth he feels no connection to. To soothe his restlessness Tom sometimes takes long walks through London, suited and booted in his his hat and coat and spats, a wanderer with no path. Lost in thought he rarely takes much notice of his surroundings, and even less does he note those he passes by. In the tree lined avenues close by the home Tom shares with his family, there’s hardly any need to keep his wits about him. But his wanderings occasionally take him in to the edges of far less friendly neighborhoods, places where such lack of care can have very real consequences. By the time he realizes, one warm July night, that he is being followed by a man as tall and young as he, but much wider and with far more capable looking hands, Tom is well away from any part of London that could be called familiar and no friendly faces from whom he could seek help. His shadow is a member of the lower classes, surely, yet not unappealing. He’s got a stubborn set to his mouth, yes, but such bright blue eyes as to cut through the all the fog and grime surrounding them. The man carries himself with a set to his shoulders that Tom finds his eyes drifting over time and time again. He wonders if he’s going to be robbed and surprised to realize he’s not at all afraid. Yet the stranger only follows and watches him, keeping close enough that his pursuit can never be mistake for mere coincidence, and pursuing long enough that Tom finally turns and asks him, “Something you need, sir?” That abrupt question gets him a smile and a cheeky question, “Something you want, sir?” What a question that is, Tom can’t help but think. What does he want? What doesn’t he want? He loses himself once again in thought, yet not so deeply that he does not notice when the tall, blonde stranger turns and walks toward an alley nearby. Tom realizes with only mild shock that tonight his foremost desire is to follow the stranger away from the streetlights and into dark shadows with all the secrets it may keep.

fickleobsessions:

So this picture right? Drawsaurus and I could NOT shut up about this picture this morning and immediately started brainstorming this Maurice-esque Hiddlesworth AU. And well. Here’s the start of it.

They are well into a new era, old Queen Victoria long buried now, and it feels as if without her hand laid upon the world’s shoulder in matronly restraint, mankind can scarcely keep apace with new each new piece technology and each new form of art. Tom had thought upon his graduation from Oxford that this time in history was like a peach ripe for the picking. Yet the group of fellows he went to school with, educated and well-bred though they may be, bore him. As does the world that they offer him though he sits for their paintings, and listens to their poetry. He hears and sees echoes of himself in their work but finds it hollow. No spark transfers from their works to his heart. There is no thrill, he now knows, in being their muse, and his reward for reaching adulthood has proved to be nothing more than sherry, playing cards and the expectation that he devote equal time to business and politics as well as art.

Yet none of his friends seem to notice or care, and his melancholic moods are deemed appropriate and no solution is given or encouraged. In fact his fellows seem to prize his sadness all the more. Tom finds himself made a symbol of a youth he feels no connection to.

To soothe his restlessness Tom sometimes takes long walks through London, suited and booted in his his hat and coat and spats, a wanderer with no path.

Lost in thought he rarely takes much notice of his surroundings, and even less does he note those he passes by. In the tree lined avenues close by the home Tom shares with his family, there’s hardly any need to keep his wits about him. But his wanderings occasionally take him in to the edges of far less friendly neighborhoods, places where such lack of care can have very real consequences. By the time he realizes, one warm July night, that he is being followed by a man as tall and young as he, but much wider and with far more capable looking hands, Tom is well away from any part of London that could be called familiar and no friendly faces from whom he could seek help.

His shadow is a member of the lower classes, surely, yet not unappealing. He’s got a stubborn set to his mouth, yes, but such bright blue eyes as to cut through the all the fog and grime surrounding them. The man carries himself with a set to his shoulders that Tom finds his eyes drifting over time and time again.

He wonders if he’s going to be robbed and surprised to realize he’s not at all afraid. Yet the stranger only follows and watches him, keeping close enough that his pursuit can never be mistake for mere coincidence, and pursuing long enough that Tom finally turns and asks him, “Something you need, sir?”

That abrupt question gets him a smile and a cheeky question, “Something you want, sir?”

What a question that is, Tom can’t help but think. What does he want? What doesn’t he want? He loses himself once again in thought, yet not so deeply that he does not notice when the tall, blonde stranger turns and walks toward an alley nearby.

Tom realizes with only mild shock that tonight his foremost desire is to follow the stranger away from the streetlights and into dark shadows with all the secrets it may keep.


takeme-to-the-dungeons:

It had to be done. I’m leaving the interpretation to you.



11 months ago with 220 notes, via sakisagan, from sakisagan

11 months ago with 483 notes, via morethnus, from ohgodtom

AU/Crossover | The Hollow Crown & Snow White and the Huntsman

(Source: ohgodtom)