#//the husbands

[clocks-are-round]

simmons chewed on his thumb nail angrily. “i can be good at romance.”

-

i know this is going to be a mess but just bear with me. i don’t want this to collect dust in my notes so i’m posting it as-is at 2-in-the-fuckin-a.m., yup one of those nights i had to get something out of my brain to sleep. i’d love to illustrate it but then i’ll definitely never finish lol

-

simmons and grif— at least publicly— very quickly resumed to old habits and donut brought up that it didn’t seem like they were dating. grif responded that it was because simmons sucked at romance stuff. this wasn’t a complaint, merely a statement. an explanation. it’s not like grif did that sort of stuff much in public either but that was irrelevant. simmons looked insulted, offended. grif knew exactly what that scowl meant and wondered whether the next few days would be funny, annoying, or downright pitiful.

-

simmons “casually” scoots to stand closer to grif. he slides an arm around grif’s back and leans… grif is not moving

grif: ?

-

someone (donut) has spread that “simmons sucks at romance”. simmons knows because he had this exchange with tucker

tucker: i heard you suck at romance. you should be more like me, i only suck at sex, bow chika— wait, i mean i suck during sex, wait no—

-

simmons tries pushing grif into his arm without explanation because it’ll look stupid if he knows what he’s trying to do and simmons can’t do it. he can know after simmons is successfully romantic

grif: dude what are you doing

plan failed simmons says “nothing.” and leaves in that perfect blend of storming and sulking that he does

-

the “simmons sucks at romance” has been parroted around enough that simmons has heard it multiple times a day. simmons hates it. no one actually cares. but sometimes on iris everyone gets bored and simmons feels like he’s in middle school all over again. simmons hadn’t been ragged on in a while so this was sort of inevitable

-

simmons charges into grif, ramming into him

grif: what the hell??

simmons can’t stop the momentum and although for a split second he has an arm behind grif and has attempted to brace his stance— they just fall over together

grif: seriously what are you doing!!

-

simmons doing push-ups: must… prove everyone… wrongggg

grif: *watching his boyfriend exert immense effort not really for grif’s sake even but to prove him wrong. is amused and enjoying the show with popcorn or chips. simmons is getting mildly irritated by the noise but that’s just making it more fun for grif*

-

this post was brought to you by me wondering if i could dip my partner romantically and coming to the conclusion that my lack of any core strength and noodle arms could potentially result in us both falling onto the floor. albeit less aggressively than those dumbasses. i know i can explain what i’m doing and ask for help if necessary lol. my dumbassery presents itself differently 😌

[soundlessdragon]

Two days ago my husband said "...and he was pissed" and I said "don't say that around the kids!" so he corrected himself to "and he was liquid angry" and I've been laughing since

[river--ghost]

work all night on a drink of rum

daylight come and me wan go home

stack banana til the morning come

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

lift six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say day

me say day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

a beautiful bunch of ripe banana

daylight come and me wan go home

hide the deadly black tarantula

daylight come and me wan go home

lift six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

six foot seven foot eight foot bunch

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say day

me say day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

come mr tallyman tally me banana

daylight come and me wan go home

dayo

dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

day

me say day

me say day

me say dayo

daylight come and me wan go home

[danielhowell]

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

howley and aziraphil are here to save the world

[mamatater]

The spouse is getting curious about tumblr

[brightlotusmoon]

[ameba-from-space]

[starlight-bread-blog]

Me: I shouldn't disturb Neil Gaiman. I shouldn't send an ask unless I really have no way of getting the information otherwise. I'll check old interviews and all the articles that vaguely mention the subject. Of course it goes without saying that I'll read though the FAQ in its entirety. Only then, will I send an ask. However, I'd be very polite and praise his work, as anyone would. I'd also keep it short, because I don't want to waste his time. But I'd keep it very very respectful. I'd be sending a message to a very talented, amazing author that deals with god knows how many like me. Or I'd just stay in the dark and not send him an ask. Yeah, I'll do that.

My Dash:

[sannuiz]

POV : you're about to get served the most bomb food to ever exist possibly

[nipuni]

Aziraphale and Crowley in Hades style! 😊

A speedpaint video of these will be available at my Patreon on june 1st along with the 10th doctor one!

[shoomlah]

I have a feeling that beneath the little halo on your noble head There lies a thought or two the devil might be interested to know You're like the finish of a novel that I'll finally have to take to bed You fascinate me so

You Fascinate Me So, Blossom Dearie

[clocks-are-round]

Z = zzz’s (bed sharing/one bed) with simmons please :3

Red Team Sardines

“This has to be some kind of mistake.” Simmons stared at the singular bed in the hotel room.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Grif tugged his suitcase in after him. Bumbling on its wheels, it loudly slapped the door frame and closing door in succession. Grif got it into the room with another strong tug from his deceptively muscular— Focus, Simmons!

Simmons cleared his throat. He gestured. “There’s only one bed.”

“There’s room for both of us. Just stay on your side.”

“You sprawl and… hug. In your sleep.”

“So?”

“Sarge has the other keycard.” No way did he want Sarge and Donut walking in on them like that.

“Point taken. I dunno, you could sleep on the floor?”

“I think I need to have a word with whoever’s in charge. I’m sure it was two twin beds. Why would Sarge book a single bed room when there are four of us?” Simmons noticed Grif eying the bed like an old friend. “Don’t get too comfortable, we’ll be in a new room soon.”

Simmons ran over a few possible conversations in his head. The lady at the desk was really pretty, and that was sure to trip him up. He needed to be prepared before he marched over and inevitably got flustered after a few words.

“Uh huh. Sure, Simmons.” Grif strolled over to one side of the bed, his bulky dingy suitcase sending Simmons’ perfectly shiny metallic one careening just as he took a step toward the door— Simmons yelped as his crotch sank too far into the suitcase handle. “Son of a bitch!”

Grif winced sympathetically. “Ooh, been there, buddy.”

“I don’t,” Simmons grimaced, “have as much feeling there since my surgery, but yeah. Not great.” Simmons staggered over to the other side of the bed and flopped onto his back.

“Sarge did something in the front too?”

“No! I mean— it doesn’t matter. Still hurts like a bitch.”

Grif flopped onto his back on his own side of the bed.

Simmons squeezed his eyes shut as he waited out the pain. He thought every curse word he could think of. “This wouldn’t have happened if you were more careful with your stupid suitcase,” Simmons fumed.

Grif lazily turned to meet Simmons’ eyes. Their faces were less than a foot apart. Grif raised his eyebrows. “What? You want me to kiss it better?”

Simmons’ face heated. He grabbed a pillow and whacked Grif. Simmons glanced at the door. It was still closed, at least.

“Yeah, yeah.” Grif pulled the pillow under his head. “There we go.” He sighed. “Much better.”

The door swung open, Sarge wearing his all-red hat, shirt, and shorts that made him look more like a fire hydrant than usual— Grif had pointed this out earlier; Simmons would never say that to Sarge’s face.

Sarge was holding his duffel bag. “Simmons. Grif. Sounds like there’s been a mix-up with the rooms.”

“No kidding,” Grif said, lounging comfortably while Simmons— who had bolted up the moment the handle turned— sat on the edge.

Donut dropped his obnoxiously pink sequined bag on the floor “Turns out we only got ONE room. Total!”

Simmons blinked. “What.”

“All the other rooms are full tonight, so I couldn’t get us another one. We’ll just have to sleep in a pile like a bunch of baby rabbits.”

“Aww I love baby bunnies!”

“I even asked them to check the back. No dice.”

Grif scooted up to a sit. “You asked them to check the back of the hotel for… what? More rooms they forgot to put on the shelves?”

“Sleepover time!” Donut ran into the room and hopped onto the bed.

Grif frowned. “Donut, if you steal the blanket from me tonight, I will smother you with a pillow in your sleep.”

“Woof. Someone’s tense. Ooh, anyone want a massage?”

Everyone groaned.

“Oh, don’t be shy you guys!”

——

Sarge prodded Grif’s arm. “Move your ass, Grif. I’m not gonna sleep on top of you and you sure as hell ain’t gonna sleep on top of me.”

Grif shifted position and crossed his arms as Sarge sidled in next to him. “How are we all supposed to fit in one bed?”

Sarge nodded his head over towards Grif. “Simmons, get over on the other side of Grif.”

“We’d be crammed so close to each other though.” Simmons tried not to think too much about that. A red face was the last thing he needed when he was already dealing with a bunch of stupid butterflies. What was he, gay? (Author's note: yes.)

“So?” Donut said, “It’s not like you’ve never touched each other. You two have slept together.”

“What??” Simmons and Grif both said. Simmons felt Grif tense as he did.

Grif quickly added, “I don’t know WHAT you’re talking about, Donut.”

“What?” Donut wiggled away from the edge of the bed, cramming Simmons closer to Grif. “Didn’t you share a bed last time we went on a Red Team vacation? You can sleep together one more night, jeez.”

Simmons’ mind had immediately jumped to the euphemism but this was Donut. He dropped innuendos constantly. It was best to try to ignore it.

“Somebody get the light,” Sarge said. “We start hunting Grif at the crack of dawn.”

Simmons elbowed Donut, who elbowed him back.

“The light,” Simmons hissed.

“Ohhhh.” Donut obliged.

“Can it be the crack of the afternoon?” Grif asked. “Also, can’t someone else be the victim first for once?”

“No, it’s alphabetical. You first, numbnuts.”

Grif grumbled. “Fine.” He rolled over. “Stupid alphabet.”

The room was now dark, but Simmons was extremely aware of the two men sardining him. Oh god there was so much body heat and so little space. He was going to wake up uncomfortable and sweaty. Or worse, nuzzling into Grif or Donut thinking they were a pillow in his sleep. But, counterpoint, he really didn’t want to sleep on the floor. He’d at least try to put up with it. At least for tonight.

A few minutes passed. Sarge had already started snoring.

“Wait, Donut’s D!”

“What about my D?”

“Everyone shut. Up.”

[unhingemyheart]

Prime Video: So, Good Omens Season 2 

Neil Gaiman: Yes

Prime Video: What‘s the Story? 

Neil Gaiman: No story, just vibes.

Prime Video: Neil, we need a little more to work with. 

Neil Gaiman: Okay, do you remember Sister Theresa Garrulous and Sister Loquacious from Season 1?

Prime Video: Yes?

Neil Gaiman: They‘re in a coffee shop AU.

Prime Video: Aaaand?

Neil Gaiman: And they need to fall in love. 

Prime Video: But Neil what about Crowley and Aziraphale?

Neil Gaiman: Oh, don‘t worry. They‘re already in love. 

[maarigolds]

Neil Gaiman's favorite trope

[mod2amaryllis]

i love being married to a straight guy. this morning we were parallel chilling and i glance at his computer and he's watching a drill fight tournament. as in, guys attaching drills to the same rod and turning them on until one breaks. to find the strongest drill. jose noticed me staring and rolled out of the way so i could see the screen. he knew every drill brand and told me their quality and price. i watched the whole thing without comment. the violence was enchanting. i never would have found this. he's a vector to an entirely alien, often beautiful, world.