#husband Tumblr posts

  • columbo-of-narnia
    27.05.2022 - 7 minutes ago

    Call me a slut, but i want to hold his hand sk badly

    #joshua bassett#hsmtmts#ricky bowen #when will my husband return from the war #high school musical the series #and maybe suck his cock
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  • terriblygrimm
    27.05.2022 - 13 minutes ago

    imagine being so boring that you hate obikin enough to make an anti post about it. like imagine not recognizing that obiwan was literally also so young when he was thrust into becoming a master? a kid himself? imagine thinking that he and anakin didnt grow up TOGETHER at the same time, with each other’s influence? imagine not realizing that their magical space wizard force brain and soul bond doesn’t transcend our pathetic human concepts of “roles”? imagine not drowning in the glory of them having an indescribable and tragic gladiator grecian intimate connection? imagine not realizing that they CAN and ARE all types of bonds, and continuously weave through them? imagine not thinking that obiwan and anakin grew well past and beyond their “master/padawan” dynamic when anakin grew up and became a fucking man. imagine not internalizing the clone wars era and how they relied on each other, were best friends and literally raised ahsoka together? imagine not realizing the deeply beloved, canon things theyve thought/said about each other in the novels? like not shipping it is one thing, but being a clown is another

    #obikin#star wars#like #grow up lol #nobodys out here shipping kids #or a father/son lmaoooo #we ship grown ass men with one of the most intimate and undefinable relationships put to film #who literally feel each other in the force and live each others hells and understand each other better than anyone #ANYWAY #basically long story short: BLOCKED #go be boring somewhere else while us intellectuals cry over space ex husbands causing a galatic war
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  • stackthedeck
    27.05.2022 - 19 minutes ago

    now that i know you’re on the clintxmatt train, i was wondering if you have any headcanons for the two? it’s a tragic world we live in where there’s such a minimal amount of stuff for them

    Tell me why I let this sit in my inbox for so long sorry about that anon also the character limit strikes again so this is just about their disabilities but I'll do another one unrelated to that

    When they first meet neither of them realizes that the other is disabled because secret identity shenanigans. One day Matt notices that Clint doesn't have that electronic buzzing coming from his ears, he always assumed it was an earpiece, then Clint does a gesture with his hands. "What was that?" "...sign language." Matt grabs him away from the rest of the avengers. Clint thinks he's about to be murdered or ritually sacrificed to Satan, he's made his peace, if he's going to be killed by the ridiculously hot dude in bright red fetish gear, what a fucking way to go. "Don't tell the others," Matt says, A little too close to Clint's face, he's overcompensating trying to make sure his lips are in Clint's eyeshot. Oh shit, what the hell is Daredevil going to do to him in this dark alley where they're entirely alone what the fuck is happening right now?? "I'm blind, I can't see your signing, so uhh, I'll try to make sure you can read my lips, but this will be awkward for both of us," Matt says. The shock of the fact that Daredevil isn't murdering him or fucking him stops Clint from asking questions. "So...you didn't take me into the alley for other reasons?" "...what?"

    After that Clint and Matt start hanging out more. Clint decides to teach Matt sign language. They start with tactile signing, Clint making the small motions into Matt's palms and holy shit, Matt has really nice hands, warm palms and delicate fingers. After that Clint shows him the bigger motions, letting Matt feel his arms as he goes through the motions slowly and oh wow, Clint has massive biceps. They do some tests with Matt's radar sense, Clint exaggerates his movements so that Matt can pick up on the difference with the pressure in the air or however the fuck Matt knows people are moving. Clint starts showing Matt how to sign, forming his fingers into shape and fucking hell he really does have nice hands with scabbed-up knuckles and again just massive fucking biceps. After about a month of lessons, Matt knows enough that Clint can just sign into his hands—and maybe his radar sense can pick up most of the differences in signs, but it's just easier for him and maybe he likes having Clint's hand in his—and Matt can sign back and Clint knows what signs Matt can pick up best in the middle of a fight.

    And like here's the thing, Matt and Clint have really liked hanging out and they either need to admit that to each other and confess that maybe they have feelings or they're going to stop having an excuse to hang out. But like... it's Matt and Clint, no way in hell are they going to openly and honestly communicate their feelings. "So...do you want to learn braille?" So Matt teaches Clint braille and no, he doesn't need to put his hand over Clint's, feeling the bumps with him, and no he doesn't need to feel Clint's fingertips and remark on the callouses archery has given him.

    All this tension around hands and the intimacy of sharing language and bonding over their disabilities comes to a head when they're both drunk—but really not as drunk as they should be—and Matt takes Clint's hand and presses his fingers to his lips and one thing leads to another. So they wake up the next morning and are like...fuck that was amazing let's make a habit of this.

    Natasha corners Clint and is like "oh my god, you've been sleeping with Daredevil for months—" "Actually, we only just started hooking up last week" "—bite the fucking bullet and ask him on a date."

    Once they start dating, literally nothing changes. They don't do pet names except maybe in bed it's just dude and their names. But there is something special about names, no codenames or alter egos. And Clint is a little smug that he was the first avenger to learn Matt's real name.

    Before Matt officially introduces himself, Nat is the second to figure out he's blind and Tony is the last

    Clint and Matt make so many jokes about their disabilities. If anything slightly inconveniences them, "that's ableist" "Barton, it's literally not" "Wow, so you're just homophobic then" "Fine, we can get pizza, you fucking dick!"

    #asks #no seriously why does tumblr have a character limit #this is bullshit #i want to talk about matt and lucky #i want to talk about their pizza dates #i wanna talk about battle husbands matt and clint #i didn't even mention bucky #send another ask anon
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  • ryanxross
    27.05.2022 - 24 minutes ago

    oh it is going DOWN in the wordle group chat right now

    #i need you all to understand that the people in this gc consist of me my mom my sister my and my moms friend and her husband and daughter #but there is SO much drama #by far the pettiest gc ive ever been a part of #personal
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  • ofpineapplesanddawns
    27.05.2022 - 33 minutes ago

    In case anyone is wondering, mountain angel Aziraphale still wears bow ties! With an included accessory!

    (This is his date night look, btw)

    #celestial harmonies national park au #good omens#aziraphale#ineffable husbands#john's art
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  • ineffable-hubbiewubbies
    27.05.2022 - 34 minutes ago

    i should probably get a normal hobby instead of squealing over fictional gay ppl, but i don’t think i will

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  • orkidealapset
    27.05.2022 - 46 minutes ago

    I had a plan to kill

    Myself and you for real

    With my gun, I'll take your life

    I'm no fun without my knife

    If I I want to I will cut you, I will make you feel my pain

    If I need to I will bleed you, I will make you go insane

    #blue girl #girls that like drugs #selfie#me#lyrics#sadgirl#blue hair#idfk anymore#lil peep #lil peep forever #for gray #i love my husband #all of you fuck off #fucked up#high#unavailable
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  • lizziora
    27.05.2022 - 46 minutes ago

    ok but

    #🌇// ¡talk! #if my husband is not a bangchan cardboard copy #i don't want it
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  • fakemichaelsheen
    27.05.2022 - 50 minutes ago

    *the revenge, 1717*

    blackbeard, longingly: he stabbed me

    crowley, eyebrow raised: what? really?

    blackbeard, sighs: yeah. charged straight at me and ran me through

    crowley, impressed: wow. what was it like?

    blackbeard, smiling: amazing. I’ve never felt anything like it. he really knew what he was doing. took my breath away

    crowley: oh that sounds fantastic

    blackbeard: yeah *pauses* I was trying to get him to fuck me though

    crowley, nods: of course

    *captain’s quarters*

    stede bonnet: I stabbed him

    aziraphale, shocked: oh my! what on earth for?

    stede bonnet, defensive: he asked me to. he was teaching me how to duel

    aziraphale, frowns: he asked you to stab him?

    stede bonnet: yes! ‘take your sword, run me through’, that’s what he said

    aziraphale: ...

    stede bonnet: I had no choice. he was going to shoot me...wasn’t he?

    aziraphale: ...

    stede bonnet: ...

    stede bonnet: he was flirting with me, wasn’t he?

    aziraphale: I believe so, yes

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  • mielpetite
    27.05.2022 - 55 minutes ago

    With Bated Breath- 74

    Remember way back when Aziraphale said he wanted Crowley to ruin him? Oh he’s ready for this final round, with Crowley taking the lead. Of course he’s still Aziraphale so there may be some backseat driving now and then, but mostly he’s going to lay back and enjoy. Also… Aziraphale where is your hand in that middle panel, you bad angel! 😂

    If you wanna see WBB uncensored, as well as the next (imho) smoking hot page, join my Patreon for just $2 a month or $20 per year. You’ll get that and lots more goodies ❤️

    Previous- Beginning

    #good omens #good omens fan art #crowley#aziraphale#ineffable husbands #with bated breath #good omens comic
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  • sunnyfleur23
    27.05.2022 - 59 minutes ago

    they moved money in the bank to a different stadium and refunded everyone’s tickets. so now i have to purchase new tickets and i can’t even guarantee i’ll get my money back in time for presale or that i’ll even be able to snag tickets in general. i am sad. 😔😔

    #wouldn’t have even known if my husband hadn’t saw it on the news cause the email was in my spam folder 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ #i really wanna gooooo 😩😩 #and roman wasn’t on the cover for mib either.. so hmmm. #sad sunny#sunny rants#wwe #money in the bank wwe #wrestling stuff
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  • aethelflaedladyofmercia
    27.05.2022 - 1 hour ago

    Perfection, Ch 6 - Perfect Recall

    The Apocalypse has happened, the Kingdom of Heaven rules what is left of humanity, in a world where everything is perfect. But there is a price that must be paid for perfection...

    Together in the strange dream world, Aziraphale and Crowley try to make sense of their jumbled memories and emotions.

    This fic is rated M for violence and disturbing imagery. Mind the tags! You can read it on AO3! (It feels like forever since I shared anything, but I was determined to get something out on my birthday. Huzzah!)

    --

    Humming one of his favorite tunes, Aziraphale stepped out of the cheerfully bright kitchen holding two mugs—one perfectly brewed tea, one coffee with five sugars and a dash of cream, just how Crowley liked it—but froze when he saw the demon, slouched comfortably on the sofa, eyes masked behind a pair of dark glasses.

    “Oh. You’re… wearing those?”

    “Unnnnnn yeah.” Crowley shrugged in what was probably meant to be a casual way. “I just thought with, you know, everything that… that we… is it alright?”

    “Of course.” Everything seemed to shift around him, like an illusion, a card trick, the five of clubs changed to the ace of hearts with a flick of the finger. The familiar cottage—his home—became someplace strange, as if he’d only ever seen it before in photographs. The daylight seemed a little less bright.

    His mood changed, too, not just the normal bursting of one’s bubble that comes with the arrival of bad news, but a change in perspective, a seismic shift in his mind that left him teetering on the edge of a cliff, the teasing, loving, carefree Aziraphale of the cottage floating somewhere above while in front of him the ground gave way to a chasm of despair and loneliness—

    “Angel,” Crowley said, drawing his attention back.

    He shook his head, trying to recapture the smile, but the room still seemed strangely out of focus. “No, no it’s quite alright, my… I understand, Crowley.” He handed over the coffee and perched awkwardly at the far end of the sofa. “It’s been… quite some time and… things were said—”

    “Not that,” he interrupted, turning his mug in his hands. “I mean, kind of that? I don’t… I’m not sure…” Crowley huffed, frustrated, scowling at his coffee. When he spoke again, it was slow, halting, and uncertain. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way. But, when I’m here… sometimes, I knew it was a dream, and then I thought—you’re not real, it doesn’t matter, right? And the rest of the time, I—I was… this was everything, and I couldn’t remember… anything except that we…” A frown tugged at his lips. “What are we here? Housemates? Partners?” He dropped his voice. “Angel, are… are we married?”

    “Never expected you to be the one concerned with labels,” Aziraphale said, smiling tightly. But he glanced down to find his hand already rubbing nervously against his leg. He held it up for Crowley to see, waving his fingers. “No rings. Though I suppose that…” His hand returned to his mug, pressing against the heat of it. “Does it matter?”

    “No, not for… for what we are here. As long as you don’t mind?” Even with the glasses blocking his eyes, Crowley looked vulnerable. “Is this… is it something you would want?”

    This.

    This.

    This cottage with its books and its food and its music and its Crowley and the garden, so many things to hear and smell and places to walk and the touching, hands and lips and—oh— oh—

    “Aziraphale!” His head snapped around to find Crowley, leaning close, far too close, seizing his arm—!

    The angel surged to his feet, hot tea spilling over his hands, scalding him. The mug tumbled to the carpet, cracking, falling apart, as he stumbled back.

    “I’m sorry!” Crowley stood more slowly, one hand held out calmingly, as the other set his mug on the table. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—didn’t think… it’s just me, alright? It’s just Crowley…”

    “I know, I…” Why was it so hard to breathe? His chest was tight, his arm burned from the contact, too much contact, hotter than the scalding water. When Crowley made a move—perhaps to approach or perhaps just to stand straighter—Aziraphale shuffled back, crossing his arms and shivering with fear.

    Why fear? He’d never been afraid of Crowley, not like this. He could remember countless touches, hundreds, thousands over the years. This was his Crowley.

    But he could also remember being alone, every day of those same years, with a deep, aching yearning in his chest for contact, any sort of contact. Two sets of memories, suspended between them, falling…

    Pressing his hands to his head, Aziraphale tried to ground himself. Pull himself back to… reality, if one could call this place such a thing. After a few deep breaths, he seemed to be balanced on the cliff’s edge again. That would have to do.

    “I’m sorry, my… I’m sorry, Crowley, I just… I don’t know how you manage this, I…” He wiped his eyes, blinking around the almost-in-focus room. “I think I’m better now.”

    “Just… just take it easy.” Crowley looked like he wanted to run over, but instead sank slowly back to the sofa. “And I… I don’t, usually. Manage it, I mean. I only really remember both when I’m waking up or falling asleep. Or—or when something here reminds me, and then I’m… well…” He gestured, indicating Aziraphale’s current state. “If I get too aware, I wake up, so…” The color seemed to drain from his face and Crowley clutched at the cushion below him, feeling the fabric between his fingers.

    Aziraphale thought of walking over, placing his hand atop Crowley’s, letting their fingers slowly twine together as they sat in comfortable silence. It made his heart ache just to imagine it.

    But he was afraid. In some way he couldn’t explain, Crowley utterly terrified him.

    “Why—why don’t we… try this again?” He miracled his mug back together, tea hot and ready inside, and settled into his favorite chair, the one he sat in while he watched Crowley attempt to bake. Too late, he realized it was the farthest seat from where Crowley currently sat. “I was saying, I don’t mind at all if you wish to wear your glasses. All this will certainly take some getting used to.”

    Crowley nodded, looking utterly miserable. And why shouldn’t he? Everything he suffered, day after day, with nothing more to look forward to than his little dream cottage. What a disappointment it must be, to find not the soft, adoring Aziraphale but instead a broken angel with troubles of his own.

    Suppressing a sigh, he took a sip of tea.

    The flavor rolled across his tongue and he nearly shouted.

    It tasted good.

    So good. Smooth, comforting, not too bold. Spice-rich but sweetened with vanilla and a few pieces of dried fruit. A hint of gingerbread, an illusion caused by the perfect blend of cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and a dash of cardamom.

    He’d forgotten that things could taste like this. Rich and subtle and varied. Each mouthful slightly different from the last.

    He’d forgotten how a flavor could bring back the memory of a little tea shop in a northern village at Christmas. All the little details of that evening were suddenly crystal clear—the way the light glinted off the mugs and glasses, the scent of leaves as he bent studiously over each sample, and of course, Crowley, groaning and huffing behind him as he browsed.

    It was meant to be a quick meeting, to talk business and compare the latest set of inscrutable orders from their respective head offices, but Aziraphale refused to hear one word of Heaven or Hell until he found the perfect blend. When he discovered this one, he felt himself go giddy with excitement, spinning around to share his newfound treasure, only to catch Crowley sullenly devouring a candy cane that he immediately tried to hide behind his back.

    “Angel? Are you alright?”

    “Perfectly fine, I…” He swallowed around the lump in his throat. “You don’t need to… to worry…” Aziraphale clutched the hot mug a little closer. “It tastes…”

    That had been real, hadn’t it? Before the war, before the cottage, before… everything? Aziraphale had struggled to hide his amusement, to properly reprimand his companion for stealing. In the end, he’d given up, doubling over with laughter at Crowley’s indignant hisses.

    “Guess the tea in your cell really was bad.”

    Lip trembling, Aziraphale glanced up, trying to see if Crowley was teasing. “It… I know I shouldn’t complain, but. It’s always just a touch too bitter and… and the water isn’t quite right.” One tear rolled down his cheek. “But this… it tastes…”

    There’d been a little display of sweets in the tea shop. Gingerbread and chocolate fudge and peppermint sticks. Aziraphale gazed longingly at it as they left, clutching his tin of tea, but he’d already wasted enough time.

    But as they walked together down the snowy street, Crowley had grumbled, glaring at his shoes, and shoved a bag of sweets at Aziraphale. All of his favorites, so carefully selected. The wind had been icy that night, but he’d felt warmer there, ankle-deep in a snowdrift beside his demon, than he had inside the little shop.

    “I… I’m so selfish. I know you—you never had—but I just—I forgot…”

    He’d forgotten how it felt to be happy.

    Long fingers gently took the mug from him and set it on the side table. Through his tears, Aziraphale could see the blurry shape of the demon, crouching by his chair, hand held out, patiently waiting.

    Aziraphale took his hand, twining their fingers together. Like the tea, it seemed to touch something inside him, a hunger, a longing he’d become numb to. He pulled Crowley’s hand closer, pressing it to his heart.

    Read the rest on AO3!

    #good omens#ineffable husbands #good omens prime #aziraphale and crowley #good omens fanfiction #crowley#aziraphale#hurt/comfort #dead dove do not eat #au #AU heaven won the apocalypse #south downs cottage #crowley loves aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #comfort #bit of a panic attack #angst and feels #angst and comfort #my writing#my wip#ao3 link#perfection
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  • ace-of-tales
    27.05.2022 - 1 hour ago

    @angeletombee

    I’m sorry, my mind really went into the softcore gutter with this one. 🤣

    I hope you like it, though. I’m making your actual request next!

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