tommy warrior

UPDATE: Holy heck tree’s finally finished, whoop~ And thank goodness for it, I’m still debating whether I ought to resize the whole thing for better viewing. o.o;

New names are new bc I didn’t like the canon name for Amber and co. in the LEAST. Also, pleasant reminder to keep your hands off the fanbabies Flame and Plume, thank you. 

Canon-friendly tree here: Firestar Family Tree -Canon-

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Fᴀᴠᴏᴜʀɪᴛᴇ Tᴏᴍ Hᴀʀᴅʏ’s ᴘᴇʀғᴏʀᴍᴀɴᴄᴇs.

UPDATE: CANON TREE FINALLY FINISHED

Canon-friendly family tree for whoever prefers canon over my small tweaks~

Original tree here: Firestar Family Tree

Dandelion and Juniper’s looks are however completely original, considering the Erins haven’t seen fit to give them an official design… and chances are, they’ll turn out COMPLETELY unrealistic anyhow so who cares~

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Tom Hardy wrote the amusingly witty and sassy Foreword to Tim Palen’s superb book of photography.
The beautifully assembled photographs focus on the honed athleticism of these very fit muscular men.

Of course the book is aptly titled…The Men of Warrior…

….now read the Forward by Tom Hardy.


“Photographers…I’m making a sweeping generalization here, abhorrent as it may sound, or just unimportant as I am unimportant, but I’ve come into contact with these creatures–these beings, these artists (some). My feelings are subjective, couched simply in jouissance, irrational. Nonetheless, in all honesty, my truth, my absolute truth is: I don’t trust them.

As a breed, on the whole, it’s not that I don’t like them, it’s just that I don’t like a lot of their “fashion concept” art; their wanky installation Blow Up scenario push. It doesn’t float my pickle. I sense a delight in all things masturbatory, their printed f_art not worth a scratch of arse. They’re wallop merchants, creative time-wasters, their crews with “shocking” haircuts, traipsing around an “urban” studio in open-toed trainers they’ve never worked out in, 80’s wristbands, and skin-tight T-shirts or stripey stockings over tight jeans or cut-off dungarees–peering through those clumsy clunky red frames with no lenses that MC Serch might have worn (but he needed to see, he had real lenses…I hope).

The whole ordeal makes me want to puke up my innards and drive a nail through them and jump through the window from the fifteenth floor of the meatpacking district studio we’re in, to feel alive for the few seconds it takes me to hit the ground. Why? It’s just my reaction…these shoots give me panic attacks. Of course, this is irrational. I’ve been told I need to play ball with them.

I come across a lot of these creatures in my line of work. I dread being forced to sit in their fuckin’ tree-over-a-beautiful-brook location they just happened to have happened across whilst wandering through the ass end of Belsize Park that morning, fetching a latte to submit to the lipid colony hanging from their protruding fat ass. Or they might take me to the streets of Hachney, to pretend to read poetry in a stariwell: “It’s so street,” they say, and because I’m a “British thesp,” it’s a “juxtaposition.” I hate being told: “Do that thing your character does, with the fists and all so broody,” or “You’re an actor, act for me. Act a part now, be the character, do acting!” while they flounce ‘round waving Polaroids, nibbling celery and hummus, pretending that class A’s are passé.

And the people they talk about I’ve never heard of–ever. But I know very little…Many of this breed are simply morons, charlatans, and like in all the arts, they’re slinging their wares, talking loud, saying nothing, “contributing.” I don’t have the patience for a photographer who hasn’t been to war or something more…well, something more important than fashion (yawn). Funny, because I love all kinds of photos and I get that people like fashion and to each their own. But I, like many other actors (who are just as irritating, I’m sure, to photographers), don’t like being watched. I don’t belong in front of the camera–as myself.

This guy Tim Palen? He was OK… I didn’t mind him so much. I’d do a silly fashion shoot for him…not that he will want me now.

I also find this true of people with guitars.”

Imagine struggling with your insecurities in a relationship with Tom. You can only fathom how many women all over the world want to be with him, and sometimes you feel like it’s just a matter of time until he finds one he loves more than you. It breaks his heart to hear that you feel this way. He takes your hands in his, and tries to tell you that regardless of how many women want him, he only wants you. “No one could ever compare to my gorgeous girl.”

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He can literally do anything Part. 2

I cannot tell people how excited I am for the upcoming Tom Hardy production- Dunkirk, Taboo, Mad Max: The Wasteland and most of all PEAKY BLINDERS SEASON 4. 
Which Tom Hardy movie/tv show do you like the most? 

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An American In Glasgow!

American-Born Winger Tommy Seymour Is Turning Head In Glasgow, And He’ll Do The Same On Tour With The Lions In The Next Few Weeks.

Woof, Baby!

Part 2

Imagine sitting in the hospital after your boyfriend, Tom, has been severely injured an MMA fight. He’s been in and out of consciousness for several days, and the stress is just too much for you. You can’t eat or sleep, so you call his brother to stay with him while you take some time to clear your head. You let time slip by, going weeks without contact. Then, one night, you come home to find him sitting on your doorstep. He tells you he’s retired from fighting, because it just wasn’t worth it if he had to lose you.