#A ROMANTIC SIMP HE WILL BE

[panakinthedisco]

i haven’t updated anything in here coz irl BUT just coming back that people should stop remaking pride and prejudice when sense and sensibility is right there (tho i’m a big fan of ang lee’s S&S)…..

and PEDRO PASCAL AS COLONEL BRANDON 😭

we got the material LIKE SERIOUSLY. GIVE HIM A REGENCY ERA ROLE PLEASE

[yoursweetwife]

Ratio: we are far from the romantic nonsense that other couples do.

[name]: (brings a spoon with dessert to Ratio’s face) would you like to try it?

Ratio: (tries the dessert, after which he wipes the corner of [name]’s mouth and “scolds” they for being careless.)

Aventurine: ...

Aventurine: yes, i believe you.

[ashipiko]

teehee

[aquagirl1978]

Everyone has been afraid of him. His mother, his father, his brothers, his grandfather - all afraid of him at some point. When everyone avoided him, hid from him, out of fear, you faced him.

In the sweet end, you worry that he's not petting you because he also hesitated to pet the wild bunny you found earlier in the story. But then you consider the fact that he might not have known how to interact with small animals.

In premium end, he confirms this, and more.

from My Honey's a Bunny, sweet and premium ends

But then to find out that he didn't not touch the wild bunny because he was inexperienced, but rather...

He simply wanted to touch you instead.

[randomness-for-life]

Finished replaying Apollo Justice and I forgot how truly GAY Klavier and Apollo are for each other

[moxanji-real]

He likes it when I step on him. 👉👈 (my simp)

Anyways! i just wanted to fully show off Moxie’s whole cake island outfit and also get some more art of her and whole cake Sanji! I love Sanji in whole cake so much.. he looks so handsome with his little cape.. my baby.. 😭💞

Anyways commission art by Hazebirdie on fiverr

*takes a deep inhale* I LOVE SANJI!!!! RAAAA-

Close up of Sanji’s face because I love it… 🥹💖

I kiss this face every day… this beautiful adorable… lovely face-

*Moxie Malfunctioning Noises*

I need to stop simping over my own man. It’s been legitimately 10 years. Stop it Moxie. STOP!!!

[earthmixsclowderofcats]

Just genuinely asking, do you actually believe that ZeeNuNew is dating? (I believe in them)

Oh, this never ending debate.

When I first got into BL these two confused and confounded me for months. It always seemed like people were either very strict and defensive truthers or pessimistic deniers.

Honestly, I went back and forth several times on them, and I think what I have come to conclude is that they're both and neither and whatever the hell they want.

Because due to the parasocial aspects of the Thai bl industry these men (Thai bl men in general) play a version of themselves in public, the same way most people do. Only their public persona is what makes them marketable. It's part of their brand.

That doesn't mean there isn't truth to it.

Fanservice and genuine affection do not exist in vacuums separate from one another. Real life relationships are way more fluid and complicated than black and white.

There are things they do that seem very performative, but I have to wonder if maybe that's just part of their personality and relationship in general. But obviously it is also, at least partly, for the fans. As it is their brand. But again, that's something that doesn't exist in a vacuum.

In a classic, western sense they haven't officially actually come out but rather were like "you can think whatever you want."

(I think this might have changed recently with the language they've been using but I'm not 100% sure due to fan translations being subjective. But like, I'm pretty sure they've said recently in an interview they basically date at work.)

At some point (especially in the past few weeks)I've legitimately just started feeling like a homophobic crone for thinking it was ALL for fan service. Like, those two clearly are very important to each other. They clearly love each other in some way.

It's so interesting because like, in a way these shipped pairs are living their own fake dating au's. And I fully believe there are some people who just committed to the bit to the degree that it no longer became a bit, and I'm pretty sure that's zeenunew.

You can see their relationship change over the years. I don't doubt there was fan service in the cutie pie era. I also don't doubt that those big sappy displays of affection are sincere.

So i used to put them in the category of "shrodinger's ships." They were both together and not until proven otherwise.

But recently I've shifted them into the category of "committed to the bit too hard and now it is no longer a bit."

Because I think it's both fan service and legit, and like, that's just how they roll. If it is an entirely false charade they've been on for years then consider me bamboozled and in awe of their hustle, but in this economy we take all the serotonin we can get.

Also, like, regardless of any outside perspective of their relationship, their personal relationship is going to be what it is or isn't either way. What are we gonna do about it by arguing over semantics and technicalities? What would they get? Nothing. We have literally no stake in this and no influence.

[wildsaltair]

[got-backstroke-4-days]

You cannot convince me that Gojo didn’t request this day solely because he wanted to spend one last Christmas Eve with Geto. Gojo knew every last detail about Geto to the point where he recognized that way he smelled, but remembering two dates is too much for him to remember?? I don’t think so

[mattodore]

chat be honest...

[mrswagtastic]

Asexual Kyle headcanons make me really happy for many reasons, but one I don't think I've ever seen brought up is how he still seems to enjoy love alot. Like asexuals I've seen (media/fictional obviously) usually still don't care much for romance, if at all, which is obviously cool too but like romance obsessed aces exist too and that's how I view Kyle honestly. Like YES hopeless romantic ace Kyle is so silly actually. Go on keep falling in love and putting you're all into romance only for it to neevr work out you little twerp. It's just so silly I actually adore it.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Din Djarin x Reader Headcanons Pt. 1

Summary: How you met the Mandalorian and eventually became his lover.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of canon violence, a shower massage. Very slow burn because I like suffering haha.

Yeah so these started out as headcanons but because I can't write briefly to save my life, it basically turned into a fic in bullet point form lmao. There is a second part coming soon once I dig the rest out of my notes app!

Also, because I like to create origins for reader characters, she is culturally Mandalorian by birth, but because I'm a huge nerd she was raised by the Lorrdians because I always thought their nonverbal language skills were absolutely badass.

*Translations of words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You and the Mandalorian first crossed paths on a wild outer rim planet somewhere, having been sent after the same bounty by the Guild

He questioned why you wore a beskar breastplate, thinking you had stolen it from his people

The bounty had escaped, and against his better judgment, he brought you with him in pursuit, especially after you told him your armor had belonged to your buir

You were born into Clan Viszla, but your family had escaped to Lorrd during the unrest, where you had been raised in the traditions of the Mando'ade but also learned the Lorrdian language

Because of this, you quickly became accustomed to reading his body language, as he rarely spoke

He doesn't know what to make of you, since you long ago abandoned your helmet and thus in his eyes broke your creed

For your part, you're aware he must have been raised by extremists, but you respect his religious beliefs

The two of you make a surprisingly good team and end up splitting the bounty

Neither of you could say why you stayed, and why he didn't drop you off somewhere, but you kept working together

As you get more comfortable, your sarcastic nature begins to surface more often

He can't tell if he hates or enjoys your constant commentary, but he's occasionally willing to give back; most of the time you just get a long-suffering sigh in response

Although he stays mostly aloof, you can read by his gestures eventually that he pretty much considers you friends by now

The problem with this is that you're an extremely touchy person physically, having grown up in a very intimate community, and he is not

At first he shrugs you off whenever your hand brushes his armor as you pass by, but after months of patience from you, he finally accepts your friendly hand on his arm with a grudging sigh of defeat

You get to know each other a little better with all the time you spend patching each other up in hard-to-reach areas

Now you know the color of his skin, which, although such a small detail, makes you feel immensely honored, since hardly anyone else ever will

For his part, he's surprisingly gentle at tending injuries, and you just wish that someday he might take off his gloves to touch you

Little facts about each other keep surfacing during these vulnerable sessions

"What are these for?" he asks you once when he has to pull your braids away from your neck; he's perceptive, to have picked up that they mean something

"The Weequay started that custom, each one stands for a year I've been away from Mandalore"

He's quiet for a long time before asking one more question

"Do you ever mean to go back?"

"I don't know if I want to anymore; but it feels right to honor my first home"

When he's finished cleaning up the lacerations across your upper back, you rise to your feet and let your hand linger on his shoulder

"Thank you, Mando"

"Din," he murmurs, so soft you can barely pick it up over his modulator "My name is Din Djarin"

He trusts you with his actual name

"Din," you smile, warmth spreading beneath your skin at finally having cracked his shell "Thank you"

After that, your interactions shift a bit

He's a little more welcoming of your casual touches

He would never say so, but you can tell he almost leans into them now

You can also tell by his posturing that he hasn't really been touched by anyone for a very long time

Does he realize he craves the contact?

Chasing that one bounty all over Tatooine did a number on both of you

You didn't know sand could get some of the places it's gotten

"I need a shower" you tell him as you step back into the Razor Crest, sand trailing in your wake

"I know you must need one too, Djarin, don't pretend that fancy beskar suit keeps it all out"

"I'll wait" he grumbles

"You can join me, you know" you offer "Another set of hands always helps with sand"

He stares at you for so long, you start to wonder if you've been too forward, but you mean exactly what you've said and nothing more...don't you?

Finally he wordlessly gestures at his helmet

Of course, his creed

Wait, does that mean he actually considered it?

You smirk up at his expressionless visor, feeling his sharp gaze fixed on you

"What, Din, don't tell me you've never showered with the lights out?"

You're very satisfied with how your idea unfolds, and he accepts without too much further need for convincing, so here you are, sharing the small 'fresher shower with the Mandalorian himself

Din stays mostly silent as the two of you work to rid your bodies of sand, though you can hear him sigh softly every time your skin kisses his for a moment

He's almost too much for you in this cramped space, smelling of sweat and smoke, solid and muscular where you've collided, and all your other senses are on overdrive since you can't see a thing in the darkness

And that's when it hits you that you've fallen for him

But you keep that thought to yourself

He makes an excellent platonic shower partner, attentive to when you need help scrubbing the grime from areas that are hard to reach

His hands are wonderful without those gloves, so much larger than your own slender ones, startlingly tender despite their roughness

And so warm, his whole body is so warm

You return the favor, and feel how tense he is beneath the surface

You can't tell for once if that tension is caused by you or if he just carries that much all the time

So as you wash the grit from his broad back, as your fingertips skate over the scars of his brutal lifestyle, you experimentally nudge into those rigid muscles, in an attempt to loosen him up a bit

The sharp inhale makes you freeze

"Forgive me --"

"No" your heart jolts at finally hearing his low voice so clearly without the modulator "Don't stop"

So you continue to massage out the stiffness wherever you find it, trying not to let his clipped breaths affect you too much

Then you part ways without a word once the water is off; he leaves you alone there in the 'fresher to dry off with the lights on, wondering if something went wrong

(Part 2)

Buir = Parent

Mando'ade = Children of Mandalore

[tomurakii]

Dude I know I'm deep into my Gale obsession when seeing people's dumbshit takes actually makes me angry. Someone on instagram called him easy and a gold digger??? How do you live with yourself.

[torgawl]

if you call himmel pathetic i'm throwing hands at you. himmel showed the purest form of love for frieren and you guys think that's pathetic? what's pathetic is not respect other people's feelings or boundaries and acting like people owe you anything just because you like them. himmel was happy to have a friendship with frieren within her own conditions just because he genuinely enjoyed her as part of his life. he was happy to wait for her for his entire life is he had to but he also never stopped living for himself. that's fucking beautiful. loving someone so much you are able to let them go, not wanting to change who they are or impose anything on them? unconditionally, nonetheless? that's the point of life.

[creativitwincest]

I haven't been drawing much remrom because I've been drawing. So many Januses. My apologies. I'll get to requests I promise;

Have 2177 words of Roman and Remus hanging out and being stupid together as an apology. I've been working on something

—

“Do you think Logan would like this?”

Roman whips his head around to stare at his twin brother, standing entirely on the opposite side of the shop.

Remus’ voice is loud as hell in the small space and Roman is momentarily embarrassed by its obnoxiousness; his first reflex is to make himself small and pretend he doesn’t know Remus, as he often does, but he soon remembers that they’re the only customers standing among the cramped shelves. He sighs begrudgingly and rolls his eyes, “I can’t see what you’re talking about, Remus.”

His twin makes a (loud, obnoxious) surprised noise and steps aside. Roman lets go of the necklace he was eyeing and walks over to him.

Remus is holding what Roman first thinks is a simple (if particularly large) snow globe; but, as he approaches, he realises that it seems to be a pretty accurate representation of some major constellations, painted all over the internal surface of the glass, the sphere filled with a dark blue liquid mimicking a night sky. Looking closer, there seems to be a small amount of gold glitter in it as well, elegantly catching the ambient light.

“He likes astrology, right? ‘Doesn’t look like this thing’s too complex, but if anything it’ll remind him less of his supplementary classes.”

“He’s a smartass, though,” Roman counters, reaching for the sphere in Remus’ hand, a bit starstruck by it still. “I bet he’d be more interested in something less decorative and more instructive. Or scientific, at least.”

Remus pouts, but lets him take the globe. “It’s just a trinket,” he whines, “his room is so impersonal it’s nauseating. I feel bad he has to live there, it looks like some fucking Ikea magazine!”

“Better than leaving dildos out in the open when mom and dad come to visit,” Roman mutters bitterly under his breath.

“Prude,” Remus snickers. “They should’ve been proud I’m so good at managing my allowance.”

“I think the fact that it was technically their money made it worse.”

Remus giggles to himself. “You call it worse, I call it better. You would’ve paid money to see the look on their faces.”

Roman is actually pretty glad that Remus had decided to room in an apartment with Janus instead of staying in the dorms with him, and had therefore spared him the sight – the second-hand embarrassment would’ve made him melt right into the floor. Just the idea of it makes him shiver. He only knows of the event because Janus had insisted on live reporting it to them in their groupchat – which had given Patton a (“highly entertaining”, in Janus’ words) heart attack, unsurprisingly. Roman understood exactly why their parents hated the blonde so much.

“If we get something for Logan, we’ll have to get something for everyone,” Roman says, if only to get back on topic.

“Why? I just feel pity for the way he lives.”

“Because if we don’t,” Roman continues, disregarding the insult to one of their best friends, “Patton will think he’s less important, and Virgil will worry we don’t care about him, and Janus will throw a hissy fit and complain about favoritism.”

“Well they can suck it,” Remus frowns, “how much money do they think we have?”

“You have plenty enough for a few gifts, Remus, don’t be a hypocrite.”

Technically, Remus had a lot more money than Roman did, even, because as insistent as Remus was that he was just that good at saving money, Roman couldn’t imagine that selling nudes was particularly cheap. Roman fully believed him when he claimed to have made his most outrageous purchases with their parents’ money only, though, even if there was really no way to tell.

“I’m not paying in full for joint gifts, dickhead, I was thinking about you.”

Roman rolls his eyes again. “Having a budget doesn’t mean I can’t get them anything. How much is that thing?” He asks, handing the glass sphere back to Remus, who rotates it in his hands to look under the base.

“Thirty five dollars,” he says.

“T-Thirty five– I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Roman sputters.

“Let’s see,” Remus starts; “assuming we get them all gifts of the same value, that’s thirty five times four, five times four equals twenty, four times three is twelve, adding two, that’s a hundred and fifty dollars – splitting equally between the both of us, that’s a budget of seventy five each. You got seventy five on you, right now?”

Roman groans loudly enough that the owner of the shop, who had blissfully ignored them until then, gives him a side eye. Roman shrinks right into his spot; then, in a smaller voice, mumbles, “This one can be the most expensive one. Patton wouldn’t care if we got him a three dollar keychain or something.”

“Janus would fucking kill you, though,” Remus counters.

“You mean kill us?”

“Eh. He’s tried so many times I’m basically immune at this point.”

Good for you, Roman thinks, miserably. Janus has enough anger issues and self-importance to uproot mountains every time something doesn’t go his way and, after all this time, Roman still hasn’t been presented with convincing proof that his twin isn’t just immortal. He’s been Janus’ best friend since they were toddlers; surely he should be dead by now.

“I’m sure I can find something fancy enough for fifteen. Some kind of jewelry, maybe. He likes gold, yeah? It doesn’t have to be real.”

Remus shrugs. “He likes anything expensive-looking, I guess.”

“So I’m sure we can manage,” Roman concludes, and takes the sphere back from Remus’ hand. “Are we sure we’re getting this for Logan, though? I’m still not convinced he’s into decorative stuff in general.”

“If this giant bean pole dork doesn’t display this fuckass snow globe on his desk, I will tear all of his fingers and toes apart from the rest of his body and force-feed them to him from the back entrance.”

Roman immediately glaces in the direction of the shopkeeper, but it seems that, for some reason, she decides to be distracted by her phone at the exact moment that would prove that Roman is the better twin.

“Okay, okay, let’s get it then,” he says, and starts walking towards the counter.

Remus follows him, blissfully pulling his credit card out of his wallet as he does.

—

“We’re going to spend the rest of our vacation looking for gifts for them, aren’t we,” Roman groans as they exit the shop.

“You’re the one who insisted we have to get them for everyone,” Remus says. “You owe me eighteen dollars, by the way.”

“Seventeen and a half,” Roman corrects through gritted teeth.

“With interest, because you didn’t have any money on you. You’re lucky I’m just rounding up and not adding ten more.”

“You are– tremendously unfair to me, dude,” Roman snaps, shoving Remus out of the way as he says it.

“How the fuck do you think I got all those vibrators?!” Remus responds, loudly, shoving him right back and into the front of some coffee shop. “Business is business, baby!”

Roman catches himself on a nearby light pole and only lightly breaks his skull on it in the process. “Christ, just scream it to everyone on the streets, why don’t you?” he spits, and regrets it before he even finishes the sentence. “Don’t-”

“HELLO, PEOPLE OF FUCKVILLE!” Remus yells at the top of his lungs. “My dear brother would like to inform you that I–”

“Oh my God, shut the actual hell up,” Roman shrieks, hurriedly slapping his hand over Remus’ mouth in a panic.

Two passersby stare at them. Remus licks his hand. Roman pointedly keeps it over his twin’s mouth. Remus wiggles his eyebrows at him in a mock-flirting attempt and Roman eventually leaves his mouth alone, punching Remus’ shoulder for good measure.

“You’re obsessed with my mouth, huh,” Remus says with the same teasing tone he’d once used to tell Patton he could teach him about anatomy a thousand times better than Logan ever could. “Oral fixation?”

“Fuck off, Green Goblin.”

“Ooh, really? Wanna watch?”

Roman doesn’t bother responding to that one. He resolutely speeds up ahead, intent on reaching their rented cabin as quickly as physically possible.

Remus keeps up with him easily, because God hates Roman and has never let him have a single lucky day in his life. “If we’re getting something for Patton, it has to be dick-shaped.”

“It really doesn’t. Stop being gross. He’s already scared of you enough as it is,” Roman sighs.

“‘Shame, really. I like him,” Remus shrugs.

Roman raises an eyebrow at that; but then again, he’s talking to the same guy who has a history with his own closest friend that Roman can’t even begin to wrap his head around. When Remus says he likes people, what he really means tends to be more in the spirit of “I like to stare at them for hours on end and imagine what they’d look like if their organs exploded”, Roman wagers. It’s pretty much impossible for Roman to tell what Remus really thinks of anyone or anything.

Roman looks around as they walk back home. They had only been planning on exploring the closest town for the sake of sightseeing (and because Roman was nothing if not a city boy, and since the place their parents had decided on is lost in the middle of nowhere, he’d needed to see signs of civilisation to feel at ease; dragging Remus along for the hour-long walk to their current location had been an exercise in memory. By which Roman means he’d had to call on so, so many previous favors). The shopkeeper gave them a plastic bag to carry the box she’d put the glass sphere in (Remus had dubbed it a “stobe”, as in “star globe”, because Remus was a heathen and a freak) but Roman is dreading having to keep carrying it for their entire walk back. Not that he has any other option – there’s no way he was ever going to trust Remus with something so easy to break – but he still feels like complaining.

Remus isn’t paying attention to him; he seems to be enjoying the view of the last few buildings before they’re back to dirt paths and walking on the road again. There’s just enough connection on the way for them to be sure they won’t get lost (Remus�� phone is probably at less than 10%, because he never bothers to charge it; Roman would sooner die than let his get under 20%) but neither of them are looking. They’re walking side by side, with Remus slightly ahead; he’d always had a better sense of directions than Roman, which Roman supposes must come from the fact that Janus wouldn’t be capable of finding his own house with a GPS if he were dropped on the wrong side of the street.

(Roman is a bit fascinated with their dynamic, to be entirely honest. In public, Janus sometimes treats Remus like a hyperactive dog he’s in turn indulging or reigning in, and Remus lets him – when they’re alone, Remus tells him, he acts like a baby koala clinging to him for dear life, if baby koalas had pride. Roman hasn’t been able to tell yet how their relationship works or what it even is, but it had been “the two of them against the world” for so long that depending on each other almost looks to be an old habit, by now.)

(Roman can’t blame Janus for having been there for Remus when he hadn’t been.)

As soon as they enter the more woodsy part of their walk, Remus grabs a long stick and starts waving it around wildly. Roman jerks away from its path, landing across the road and halfway into a ditch. Remus laughs at him as he stumbles.

Roman steps out of the ditch with a huff and grabs Remus’ stick with his free hand.

“Ooh, yeah, grab my hard stick, big boy.”

“You’re gross,” Roman groans. He considers launching Logan’s gift at his twin’s face but thinks the glass might break. He tosses Remus’ stick out of the way – Remus elbows him.

“Jealous of my big stick?”

“If that was an attempt at an innuendo,” Roman replies, “it was stupid. We’re identical twins, so we probably have, like… uh…”

Remus gives him a long, smug stare that tells Roman he thinks letting him finish his own sentence would be more embarrassing than interrupting him to make it explicit. “Yeah? We probably have what, Ro-bro?” he says, like a jerk.

“The same, like, I mean… It probably looks the same,” Roman mumbles.

“The same what? What looks the same, brother dearest?” Remus insists, because he likes to feed on Roman’s mortification like a leech. “Surely it can’t be anything outrageous – you’d never have such a thought!”

“Shut up, dude,” Roman groans again.

Remus snickers at him but shuts his mouth, thank God. He grabs Roman's hand instead, “Come on,” he says, “you're walking like a snail.”

“Snails don't walk,” Roman answers.

“Exactly.”

[starsintheskies]

Brooklynn: We don’t have time for this. Ben, keep him away from us.

Kenji, holding his butter knife: Very well, Ben. Let us battle!

Ben starts lightly punching him because he doesn’t want to actually hurt him.

Kenji: Ow, Ben… Ben, knock it off…