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Like Parting Grapefruit Halves
| Chapter 1
Archive of Our Own:
summertudinal:

His husband nonchalantly removes every item of his outfit himself, until he is down to his small clothes, and with a featherlight stroke of his hands, parts the cloth hanging on his shoulders to spill at his feet, revealing his naked form.

Thor swallows. He is sublime.

“Like what you see, husband mine?”

Yes. Yes, he does. Thor’s feet move him forward of their own volition to where Loki stands. His hands hold him by the waist, reaffirming that he was real and not just a vision from dreams he didn’t remember having.

Their faces are so close, Thor leans in to touch with lips. Loki effortlessly evades with a turn of the head so that his mouth is near the shell of Thor’s ear. “But of course, how could you have known?”—–

A continued somnophilia party bash with @stuffimgoingtohellfor, @impalaforthree, @wisterings !!! 

Y'ALL

Some things just don't need explaining.

Go forth and veg out, y'all. Life is too short to try too hard.

There is something about being able to put your phone to your ear and hear this little message from Stephen Fry that, even knowing that hundreds of thousands of people are hearing it as well, makes you imagine that he might be speaking to you, that perhaps he's called you up just to say hello, and that not everything is total shit because of it.

I haven't yet decided if that's comforting or pathetic.

Mr Fry's boos, for those not on twitter.