#wrestling husband

[eboni-napalm]

what I wouldn't give to have him pin me like that holy SHIT-

[ineffablerainstorm]

So this just happened… 😂

[camilleflyingrotten]

The Very First Time

[samijey]

"Naomi time!" bonus: me too, Bayley

[eraserhappy]

If there is not a scene in S3 where Crowley has his flat back and Aziraphale pops in, sees this statue (the one with the demon pinning the angel down—all erotic like) and comments about them “wrestling” and Crowley in his sly deeper slow register says “ooooh and what makes you think what they are doing is wrestling, ANGEL?” Then what is the point????

[ddarker-dreams]

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.” 

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure. 

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?” 

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off. 

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.” 

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity). 

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.” 

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him. 

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do. 

“Do I get any final requests?” 

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?” 

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible. 

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale. 

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both. 

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade. 

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it. 

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.” 

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam. 

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.” 

[sator-the-wanderer]

And they were roommates enemies

[lunarrolls]

listen so closely to me i think liliana temult is a fascinating character and she’s really fun to examine morally but also nothing will ever come fucking close catharsis-wise to watching ashton and orym fucking cross examine her ass in episode 92. the sexiest shit i’ve ever seen “your worst fear is probably my worst fear, and i think we just got a little sample (my worst fear came true because you weren’t fast enough, what will you do when it’s her head on the line?)” and “keep wrestling (you must bear the weight of their deaths on your conscience and know it will never be enough for what you took from me)” like holy SHIT you guys

[matchamiko]

Wriothesley is so husband shaped; those big shoulders for sleeping on snuggled in bed, thick forearms to bite when he’s fucking you down into the mattress, capable hands for kneading dough when you don’t want to, beautiful kind eyes that are the first thing you see in the morning, big wide hairy chest for leaning on in the bath, such a strong back for hoisting furniture around when you want to change the sitting room around, legs heavy and wide enough to sit on as you arrange flowers you’d both bought from the farmers market, fingers weathered from work and age sitting pretty between your thighs.

[captainfantasticalright]

Crowley’s flat is riddled with statues, from different time periods, from different corners of life and society.

The Wrestlers is one of my favorite angelic-demonic inspirations for the one he keeps on one end of his flat.

Wrestling in general, especially demonstrated in other statues, goes beyond the sport of wrestling. It makes the material appear soft even though it might be stone; it makes the action look soft and meditated instead of violent and brutal. And it is not limited to statues, but found immensely in art itself.

Part of this is canonically inspired and the rest is more meta-esque, but still tied with everything else.

[inkskinned]

being single in your late 20s & 30s is so fucking wild bc on one hand it's fun and flirty and you skip a lot of the bullshit because you know what you're looking for and you know how to spot a red flag from a mile away and you've learned to set boundaries and communicate your own and be upfront about your needs and most of the time they've learned it too - and if they haven't, you can tell after the second date that they haven't been to therapy

and every time you feel lonely and dried up and an ugly husk there's a whole community of other single people out there who are just as unhinged and want to hang out with you because they just need a plus-one like you do and you get introduced to like. people in their 60's and 70's and 80's who are all like - nope, single life is my choice and i love it and you feel warm and seen and like okay, it's not the end of the world if i'm not seeing anybody. and yeah it's hard and sometimes exhausting but part of getting better is that you do make like so many friends and do so much wild shit because you made a promise to yourself that you'll actually get out there and try shit and actually work on your hobbies and skills and friendships because to be honest in relationships you wouldn't push yourself this hard and it's actually been super rewarding because it came from you and from what you wanted

and yes of course the apps such and dating in general can suck but after one of the bad dates you go back to your apartment and call up those friends you made and make jokes about what the other person said and it rolls right off your back and you have plans for self-care in the morning. you prioritize yourself and your happiness and you really actually don't mind it, a lot of the time, unless it's like at a wedding and they're doing one of those couples-related things. most of the time it's not even a problem except when you can tell people pity you for it and you're like - i'm actually fine, babe, even without a partner i am still, like a person and yes of course it would be nice to have a partner but you have established yourself as a person and as an adult in a way that feels really hard-won and well-earned and you're protective of that and of the life you're living and honestly you're pretty happy, all things considered

and at the same time you do have to tell your father that you are single on purpose right now and that, yes, believe it or not, they're letting women be single past the age of 30 these days without burning us at the stake (can you imagine!) and you have to kind of sit pretty while people make jokes about how you're losing your marriageability and you're like, a little too old for the bars and the clubs and whatever but you do still want to go out dancing and it's like. the other day you went to a board game party and had the time of your life and then your mom calls you and says she's worried because what if you never find the one, shouldn't you be spending more time looking? and you're like - trying to balance this place where you're actually, like, perfectly okay? except you hear this thing over and over and over - oh no. that's so sad. i hope you find your lover. and you weren't really upset about it until someone suggested that you're running out of time and until someone said that it's so miserable that you live without someone to kiss and you're like why can't anyone believe that i'm genuinely happy. like. joy. like. bliss.

and then they look at you and they look at their partner and the look passes between them that says - poor thing. you're just lying to yourself about this.

[eboni-napalm]

VICTORY SCREECH MOTHERFUCKERS

THE GUNTHER PIN IS MINE ❤️

--

(for context, this was literally the only one in the world of this special pin made, so of course I'm going to scream cry throw up because I can't believe I actually won this auction.)

[ineffablerainstorm]

Imagine you just got a promotion. You are very excited, because you have been waiting for this for years and years. For the new position you are transferred to London and move into a very fancy company apartment in Mayfair.

Only to get there and find mail piling up on the doorstep, all the previous tenant’s weird furniture still there and this thing in the hallway:

Shax *on the phone with Crowley*: "So if the hot water isn't working which button do you have to press? And also: WHY IS THERE A STATUE OF YOU AND AZIRAPHALE DOING IT IN THE BLOODY HALLWAY?

Crowley: "It's art. Evil triumphing over good, actually."

Shax: "Are you kidding me? They are naked."

Crowley: "They are wrestling."

Shax: "Get that thing out of my flat. NOW!"

Crowley: "Nope." *hangs up*

[hoosbandewan]

EWAN MITCHELL as ABRAHAM in Grantchester 3.05 + arm wrestling

[theocassidy]

[ineffableteeth]

Hey so isn’t there a possibility this statue was made after Crowley and Aziraphale?