#Husband Pillow

[sweaterkittensahoy]

This is the greatest addition to anything I have ever put on this site, and I thank you for it.

So, this week I ordered a new couch pillow because I had a husband pillow full of shredded memory foam, and the thing needs to be opened and shifted around about once a week with the way I use it so it doesn't shape up weird and actually fuck up my back when I bought it to NOT fuck up my back.

I now have a wedge pillow, made of one piece of foam. And I ordered a book cushion from etsy, and I just wanna say to anyone who has thought "that adaptive thing seems like it would be useful, but I'm not disabled, so maybe it's not for me?"

It's for you. Trust me. My back hurt because I was slouching weird on the couch. I got a husband pillow. It helped a lot. But, it turns out, what I need is one giant piece of memory foam, not a bunch of tiny bits.

And the book cushion? Books are heavy sometimes. Being able to rest it higher in my lap so it's easier to read and hold? Better for my body.

Also, do you wake up with pain in the mornings? Try a contour pillow and a knee pillow.

Get those extra-strong treaded soles to wear with your heels because you wobble otherwise.

Wear compression gloves when you type. Get those orthopedic shoes because you can walk longer distances in more comfort. Buy the bra that actually supports the weight of your boobs. Get a lapdesk for your computer. Use a neck pillow even at home to keep your neck straight. Wear socks to bed. Listen to audiobooks. Read large print books.

You see something that you think will work for you and improve how you feel? Use it! Let's fucking normalize adaptative shit for everyone!

[running-with-kn1ves]

Satin Pillows To Cry On

CW: coercion with money, age gap(7 yrs), transactional marriage, obsessive/yandere behavior

gn! reader

﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀

You’ve got nothing else, no one else to rely on. 

‘You’re something he bought to keep from growing old.” 

Your clothes are worth small countries. Your cars stacked in 3-level garages. Diamonds, emeralds, pearls hanging from your wrists and ears, satchels made of endangered animal skins, different shoes for each day of the year. 

Your boyfriend of three years spat at your feet when you told him what you were doing. 

“His money can’t love you, not like I can.”

The wedding was only two months away when you broke up with him, told him you couldn’t live in his broke-down apartment anymore, that you couldn’t live with debt trailing wherever you went. You went so far as to make him hate you, to tell him that you never wanted to see him again, that you never loved him, that he better not bother showing up to the wedding. You didn’t want him there, you never wanted to see him again. 

“You’re lying to me; he’s making you say these things, he’s using you against me! You’ve known him what-- two seconds, and you’re going to marry this man?! He’s nearly a decade older than you!” 

Seven years of an age gap or not, he was still a thousand times more independent, wealthy, and a safer choice than your boyfriend. You weren’t some fresh college student new to the world, you had graduated over two years ago, still finding no luck in getting a stable income-- forget about whether or not it was in the field of your degree. 

You left in a single day, fitting all of your scavanged belongings into one of your fiance’s awaiting cars. You left anything worth of value with your ex-boyfriend, knowing he’d find more use out of it than you would. You would even leave the rest of your things there if he could find use for them, but you knew they’d just be one more painful reminder of your betrayal. 

He did as you said, not showing up to your wedding, staying clear, never appearing in your line of sight since the day you left. It made it easier…. For both of you that way. 

And now you were happy-- well, maybe not happy, maybe not even content, but you were… safe. You had everything you needed: a working car, a stable job that you felt productive in, a clean and comforting house to come home to, a spouse. Sure, maybe you didn’t get your new job yourself, or your house or your car-- but did that really matter, in this economy? Who wouldn’t trade their life and their independence for this kind of wealth?

And your husband… he wasn’t all bad. He might have only wanted you for the sake of having you at first, like a new jewel or the latest technological invention. But he was doting and caring in his own way. Maybe just a tiny bit too invested in you, in your schedule and who you talked to. A little too hateful towards your ex-boyfriend, the one who had you before he could. But everyone had character flaws, and on good days you could distract him from his grumpy mood and stress and obsessive behaviors by being the loving and oh so perfect spouse you had trained yourself to be ever since he asked to marry you. 

“Colder than all that gold…” You repeated in your mind, the words your family whispered to each other at your wedding reception only a few feet away from you. 

That was over six months now, though… the honeymoon phase never existed, you rarely saw your husband except for his midnight appearances back from the office, and whenever he would whisk you away for a weekend vacation to savor the time he had with you. For someone more sophisticated, much wealthier, and dare you say handsomer than the average man-- you were surprised to find he didn’t have a line of divorces behind him. 

No; he said, he had been “waiting for you.” whether  you or he knew it, he understood right from the moment of meeting you that you were the one he’d have for the rest of his life, even if it killed him. That severity… scared you. But in a sick sense, it made you feel relieved. Forever? This could be yours, forever? Your family would never have to struggle again, you would never have to worry where your next meal came from?

“I cleared your schedule until tuesday; we’re going to the isles. A mini vacation, you might call it. Get your things.”

He was cold, that was for sure. But, was he any worse than your ex-boyfriend, especially when he was offering you an expensive experience on top of that?

“All right..” You acquiesced. 

And now, you lied sunken into the bed feeling his loving, hot breath on your navel. Going so sweetly slow, so oddly and uncharacteristingly lingering with his touches as he gazes into your eyes. You didn’t like this; didn’t like that when he was cherishing you, making love to you, holding you so intimately, he was appearing… like a husband should. Where did he get the nerve to ignore you everyday, to have hardly any time for you, only to come back and beg for your love when it was convenient for him? 

But you keep your mouth shut, like you should, if you want to keep eating breakfast in bed, keep wearing silk robes while watching the view of the ocean outside your window.

“So beautiful…you’re like a work of art, the kind no amount of money can buy.” 

That was funny, hilarious even. Enough so to make you cry. 

A familiar face passes by the slightly ajar door to distract you, likely one of the housekeepers leaving for the night. But you swear the man’s figure reminds you of someone from your past, someone you loved and left for good. 

Your husband brings back your attention by placing a gentle kiss to your temple, blindly undoing the clasp of the necklace he bought you.

“I’m so lucky… so lucky to have been the one to catch you, forever. No one could’ve done it, not without what I have.”

He wanted you to kiss and caress back, but sometimes lying still was just enough. It was enough for him to witness you, basking in the glow of everything you wore from him, lying in the Egyptian cotton sheets he paid extra for, your body molded to the diet his personal chefs cooked. 

Even as he pushed a knee between your legs, traveling from your navel to your stomach with open-mouthed sucks and kisses in the rawest form of affection, you couldn’t help but turn your face deep into the pillow. So soft, the soft purple shielding your eyes from his tender gaze.

You might’ve given up love, given up everything familiar and those who you’ve cared for-- but at least you had satin pillows to cry on, and the finest jewelry to wipe your tears with. 

[blewsee]

they make me so sick in the head it’s actually unreal

[zivazivc]

bby floyd sleeping with their dad's vest

[maybe-im-dark]

We know Logan runs on all fours during a fight when he has to dodge bullets and because it makes him faster. But what if he does it at home to? When the pain of his adamantium skeleton forces him to resort to crawling because this way his weight is distributed better and it's less strain to his joins. At first he doesn't wanna do it in front of Wade, he's afraid it will make him look like a dumb animal. But turns out Wade doesn't mind. He will build a pillow fort under the living room table for Logan where they can both watch TV together without Logan having to get up to climb on the couch in his pain. Then Wade will take Logans head in his lap and rub some tiger balm on his back to get him relief.

[fishsinsareacknowledged]

choose your character:

-[Nikto]- [König] [Ghost]

Nikto has tits so big every button up shirt he has, has to be oversized or the buttons will pop off. Everytime he tries something in the fitting room it breaks and he has to pay for it either way so he just buys it while doing an estimate. Nikto who tries them out at home and they expectantly break. Fixing the buttons up before deciding to give it to you. Making an excuse that the fabric just wasn't right for him.

Nikto who comes over just to make sure you still have his clothes. Talking to himself in satisfaction when he sees a whole stack amount of his clothes mixed into yours. Nikto who "accidentally" leaves his clothes in your house for you to keep. Nikto who folds a clean boxer into your drawer of panties, taking one for himself. An eye for an eye.

But also Nikto who leaves a dehumidifier in your closet so the clothes don't smell like shit other than him. Leaving you some scented candles if he notices the smell of your house is "off" cough cough having someone over. Gifting you some bedspray the same as his so he can pretend that you're in the same shitty bed he is on during deployment. Nikto who comes back and the first thing he does is replace and maintain the cleanliness of your house, refurnishing the floors if they're wooden. Replacing the grout if they're old.

Leaving mothballs in your bathroom and closet. Checking on the batteries of your devices. Neatly arranging your cables. Spraying antibug spray onto the walls and floor. Making the house all devoid of life except you. It makes him calmer. Doing the chores and the environment. Just the way he likes it. Clean, sterile and you. He loves you.

Ps: Don't look at the tags.

[thecoollifeguard]

I feel like an old-timey soldiers wife when their husband returns from war.

[elly-sweetheartcrowley]

Pillow Fight 💕

[xdantesinfernox]

LOOK AT MY HUSBAND

HES SO CUTE RAHHHHHHH

SUPPORT THE ARTIST AND CHECK OUT THEIR STUFF OMGGG

THANK YOU @ilaac-art BLESS YOU 🙇🙇🙇🤍🤍🤍🤍

[mamaclownhunter]

You have to understand this fic series added YEARS to my life @jezebel_rising (it is spicy M)

I been consuming drunk fics recently and I think I reached my personal new joy and headcanon that SQQ is an angry punchy but overly affectionate to his people drunk. Tsundere to the max.

There are like 2 fics that blessed me with punchy violent drunk SQQ and two that gave me him being a goober with SQH.

Give me both with zero filters. I want violent SQQ and his “bro we shouldn’t/bro bro we GOTTA” SQH toggles on enabler and responsible drunk for me.

But also learned and adopted that SQH is the type of drunk that will rebuild a car blasted. He makes the wildest contraptions and goes through strange tinker builder plans black out drunk. He is competent and efficient and wakes up hungry over wondering when the fuck he learned quantum physics. Like he is a “I got this”

I want them to be the others enablers. I want SQH to be ride or die if cucumber bro starts a bar fight he is there at his side sighing drunk and lazy but kicking ass. (Thank you Jezebel)

I want SQH to stare at a wall and go “I wanna invent a Xianxia version of a plane” and SQQ to go “that is fucking dumb let’s do it” (thaaank you Jezebel)

I want them to be each other’s friend. I want them to kinda sit there hung over… and kinda just weirdly happy they have a friend that gets them in this life. That they have a friend who is the bane of their existence but can have fun drunk shenanigans neither really got to have in their first life.

Mobei and Binghe not knowing what to do with them. They both are clingy drunks but one is spitting curses and aggressively snuggling like a cat high on catnip- and the other is singing praises and compliments while trying to bury himself in his husband’s robes.

But THIS FIC SERIES really had me rolling bc like- 2 twenty first century guys who are use to shorts and tee shirts forgetting after the third drink that- it is not 100% proper. They are aware enough to be these future boys behind closed doors- but to them hitting each other with paint in shorts is just guys being guys. To their royal husbands and everyone else in this ancient world????

Also SQQ in gym shorts and a tee shirt is my new favorite thing. This is the cutest I have drawn SQH- I had fun

[givemeuniversalcrossovers]

Luigi taking care of a Yoshi egg and Bowser walks past seeing him holding an egg cradling it like his own baby clearly warming it with his own body heat and it makes Bowser slightly feral. Accidentally turns on the baby brain. Absolutely needs to go make a nest and put his nest mate in there and have a healthy brood right now this very second. Higher thinking pft gone, only snuggle in nest and egg.

[suchawrathfullamb]

oh okay that when Will went to H's house after Mizumono to mope around on the kitchen floor he also didn't go upstairs and smelled the bed pillow, as if.

[hieronymph]

your grandson is dead. you are mourning...

and you are serving CUNT? your room is also SERVING CUNT??

[morganbritton132]

Eddie’s just live-streaming his thoughts stream of consciousness style one night from bed because he can’t sleep. So he’s awake when Steve gets out of bed.

Eddie trails off, watching him to see what he’s doing. He even leans over to see out their door when Steve zombie-walks out of the room. Eddie hums to himself, “I’m gonna give him a second. See if he comes back.”

He’s just about to start talking again when an alarm goes off in the house and Eddie hauls himself out of bed, “Nope, got a runner. Getting him now.”

[crewdlydrawn]

I first ever heard it referred to as “a husband pillow”. For myself, I call it a corner pillow or sitting pillow.

[Noting that the persons in question grew up in the New England area of the US.]

okay time to see if this is a normal term or some freakish thing that only my mother, and by extension, her children, use

[Image ID: An upright pillow with arm rests extending out on either side of it. End ID]

[teatitty]

KakaIru should have the opposite problem of AsuKure. Asuma and Kurenai were trying so hard to keep their relationship subtle and everyone could see it from 50 thousand miles away meanwhile Kakashi and Iruka should be super obvious about it but everyone keeps going "Nah. No way. Not those two"