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diegowife · 2 years

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“Two Of Us”

A Mini Of Denji X Reader

Reader uses She/Her pronouns :)

Might be include manga spoilers, read at your own risk!

Makima revealed that Y/n possesses a unique gift since birth - the ability to manipulate Hell-Fire. She is capable of generating and controlling flames, despite not being a devil herself, which sets her apart with this incredible power.

Y/n, who is not only my close friend but also my first love, captured my heart from the moment Makima introduced us. She possesses an exquisite, refined, charming, and courteous demeanor that surpasses even Makima.

Her prowess in eliminating devils, coupled with her captivating actions, sends shivers down my spine. I find myself unable to divert my gaze from her. Unlike Power, Y/n does not possess a childish disposition nor is she easily frightened. In times of danger, I feel assured that Y/n would come to my aid, steadfastly standing by my side.

I often contemplate confessing my feelings to her, but the thought of doing so is daunting. The fear of potential rejection and ensuing embarrassment renders the endeavor an arduous one.

Nevertheless, today is the day I gather the courage to ask her out. I cannot continue to suppress these emotions indefinitely. Nervously, I knock on her apartment door, eagerly awaiting a response. As the door creaks open slowly, my heart skips a beat.

To my surprise, Y/n is already dressed impeccably. Why is she adorned as if attending a wedding? I stand poised like a gentleman and clear my throat,

“Ahem, Y/n, will you go out with me today? You know, just in case the two of us want to spend time together? Since there are not so many devils and Makima hasn't informed us of any mission yet...”, It can prove quite a challenge to convey my thoughts to her on occasion. Undoubtedly, I can be quite bothersome.

“Oh? I was planning to go out to buy something. I guess going out with you is fine too..” In a manner that exuded shyness, she gently rubbed her neck as she spoke.

While holding my hand, she stepped out of the door, “Well, where should we go?”. The suddenness of her actions caused my face to blush as red as Makima's hair. Why would she hold my hand? Is this all just a dream? Or could it be that my dream has finally come true? If this is indeed a dream, I wish to share it with Pochita. He expressed his desire to know and understand the contents of my dreams. Hang on a little longer, Pochita; we are almost there.

Walking hand in hand with Y/n now felt like a taste of heavenly bliss. Although I've never experienced heaven firsthand, I assume this is what it must feel like. Earlier, I had to lock Power in the apartment to ensure she wouldn't disrupt our date. That girl truly knows how to cause trouble.

~TIMESKIP~

Presently, we find ourselves in Y/n's apartment once again. The burden of carrying her shopping bag is quite noticeable, indicating her fondness for shopping. Assisting her, I collect her belongings and arrange them within her humble abode. After completing the task, "Denji..." She appears discontented. Did I do something wrong?

“Denji, I extend my gratitude to you for everything that you have done. The time we spent together was truly delightful and it brought a smile to my face”, This made me chuckle. Oh yes, the plan that we executed has been successfully achieved. “No worries, I had intended for this to happen all along.”

It pleases me to see that she appreciates it. Our moments spent together were enjoyable, but the highlight for me was the opportunity to hold her hand..

Despite all that we did, it still doesn't feel satisfactory to me. We engaged in various activities together, such as going to the shopping mall, purchasing ice cream, having dinner, and strolling around the park. However, even with all of these things, it still doesn't meet my expectations. I can't help but wonder what else is lacking. Ugh, what is it that you desire, Denji? Come on, tell me.

As she prepared to close the door, I intervened, realizing that I needed to speak up once again. “Um, excuse me, but I have something else to say,” I blurted out. In that moment, I questioned my actions, thinking to myself, 'Oh no, what am I doing?' It felt as if my hand had a mind of its own. She furrowed her brow and asked, “Yes? What is it that you want, Denji?” Contemplating whether or not to reveal my thoughts, I considered that perhaps she wouldn't welcome them. Today was an exhausting day, after all.

“If you would be interested, I could propose the idea of accompanying me to the beach tonight, around the hour of 2 am. However, if this time is not suitable, I am willing to change the tim-”, before I could finish my sentence, she ecstatically grasped both of my wrists.

Without hesitation, she replied, “Absolutely, Denji, I would be delighted to join you!” Her laughter filled the air, causing my eyes to widen with admiration. She truly is a treasure. Alas, if only my wealth allowed me the privilege of showering her with delightful gifts. We solidified our plans and rendezvoused at the beach later on.

~TIMESKIP~

At the seaside, I found myself by 2 am. It has been a while, yet she has not shown up. What could be causing her delay in arriving here? Perhaps she is still asleep? No, that cannot be, as she never fails to keep our promises.

Not too distant from this location lies her apartment. Engaged in playing with the sand, I suddenly felt the touch of someone closing my eyes. I couldn't help but smile, playfully remarking, “You won't fool me, Y/n.”

In a state of amazement, she burst into laughter and released her grip, “Impressive how quickly you can guess!” Her face radiated joy as she flung sand towards me, yet I managed to evade it. “To me, it seems evident that we are the only one here,” I commented. Indeed, there is no chance that anyone else is present at this hour, considering it is late morning. Nevertheless, there was a peculiar sensation, as if someone was observing our every move, perhaps a homeless individual seeking solace by the ocean's embrace. I could simply overlook it all and fully embrace this moment.

In addition to that, a solid button-front blouse and trousers were worn by her; in contrast, I am only donning shorts and find myself half-naked. As she took a seat beside me, I crouched down. “I apologize for my tardiness, as I had to carefully select a suitable outfit, and may I mention, I also prepared a bento for the both of us!” she exclaimed, proudly displaying her portion of appetizing food.

Without warning, she forcefully pulled me into the ocean. I have never been a proficient swimmer, especially after the incident involving Reze. Although the trauma continues to linger in my thoughts, I must brush it aside. Y/n is all that matters to me now. “Can't swim, huh?” she scoffed, taunting me. Irritated, I retaliated by splashing water in her direction, provoking her laughter as she reciprocated the action.

Observing her silhouette, her laughter, and her facial expressions brings me great pleasure. Following a blissful period relishing in our youthful moments, we situated ourselves upon the sandy terrain and savored the bento she had prepared.

“Denji, why did you choose this particular location out of all the options available?” she inquired quizzically. Pausing to meet her gaze directly, I responded, “Well, it's quite challenging to put into words, but what I desire above all else is merely the presence of the two of us, without any disturbances or interruptions.”

Momentarily pausing to collect my thoughts, I continued, “All I yearn for is to sit in tranquil silence by the shore, admiring the rhythmic waves, listening to the harmonious melody of the surf, and experiencing the soothing pulse of the earth.” Yes, I suppose that phrase will suffice. While I cannot offer a concrete explanation, I did my best. At that moment, I felt her hugging me. Indeed, she enveloped me with her affection. Well done, Denji.

A rush of warmth envelops me as I sense her skin, the pulsating rhythm of her heart, and her embrace encircling my neck. Regrettably, the embrace is destined to be short-lived. She disengages from the hug and gently places her palm on each of my cheeks, hesitantly questioning, “Denji, do you believe this to be a date?”. Mirroring her actions, I also rest my palm on her cheeks and confirm, “Yes, Y/n, all along, this has been a date.”

A mixture of nervousness and anticipation tinges my smile as I gradually close the distance between our faces, and she reciprocates with equal measure. My throat tightens with anxiety. Despite not being my first kiss, I hope that I am deemed a proficient kisser. Our lips finally unite, and I relish the sensation of her soft lips pressed against mine. It is comforting warmth, and I find myself enjoying it immensely. In that fleeting moment, just as I am beginning to savor the experience, that moment until I hear...

“ BANG !”

Rather than realizing the events that had unfolded, I continued to relish in the sensation of our genuine kisses. My gaze shifted towards her, and the sight before me was utterly unforeseen. The tender caress of her cheeks and the touch of her hand upon mine were no more. Her body lay before me, disintegrated into countless fragments, not a single bone remaining intact. The crimson blood splattered across my visage and drenched my entire being. The chilling tableau left me breathless and shaken.

As I stared at the bloodstained hands, my eyes widened in disbelief. I cast a glance over my shoulder, and to my astonishment, it was Makima. I attempted to utter a response, yet my voice failed to escape my lips. “Denji, creatures like you, devils, should devote their attention to destruction rather than surrendering to love,” she proclaimed.

“Denji, it is obvious that you have developed a sentiment for her from the very beginning. Why did you decide to switch your affections towards her? You have kissed both Himeno and Reze, and now you attempted to kiss her?” She approached me and lifted my chin, saying, “Denji...from this point forward, you are under my complete control.” With a smug expression, she departed, completely disappeared in the shadow.

I find myself completely immobilized. Has the circulation of blood in my body ceased, or am I simply paralyzed with fear? I have lost Y/n. Why am I unable to experience any emotions? Why can't I shed any tears? I had just experienced my first genuine kiss, only to witness her obliteration right before my eyes. It is at this moment that I comprehend the following truth:

“In a world consumed by devils and misery, no feelings of love can endure.”.

I'm sorry if there are any grammar problems. English is not my first language :)

Thank you so much for reading <3 I hope the ending satisfies you. If you have A03, please look up my account PortgasDqish. I usually post my fanfic there ♡

#denji x reader #denji chainsaw man #chainsaw man denji #POV male character #romantic friendship #friends to lovers #fluff and angst #falling in love #love confessions #idiots in love #surprise kiss #reader insert #denji is a simp #makima #chainsaw man #anime #manga #chainsawman anime #chainsawman manga

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girl4music · 6 months

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You know what? Rather than saying Xena and Gabrielle aren’t textually canon I should just say they’re a romantic friendship or platonic romance. Because - evidently - I see and interpret them as very canon. And yes, sometimes even in a textually written way. But it seems to confuse people when I try to explain that they are an EPIC well-written romance/love story when I follow it up with “even though they’re not textually canon”. And I could understand how that would be confusing if I had never seen the TV show. And many people seem to be familiar with what “romantic friendship” or “platonic romance” is and I’d definitely say Xena and Gabrielle come under that. I mean they do have an amazing relationship and it can be interpreted as platonic just as much as it can be interpreted as romantic. They do always seem to refer to each other as best friends only in a public setting. They never say they’re lovers or are in love. They never have to. It’s written on their faces as clear as day. In just the way they are with each other you can tell that they are. It’s incredibly obvious and beautifully nuanced. But since it’s not confirmed in the show that they’re anything more than best friends,… I think “romantic friendship” or “platonic romance” works. And for me - that a very respectful and affectionate way of understanding and defining their relationship.

So yeah,

They’re romantic friendship or platonic romance. Very much canon to the fans, the creators, and the cast. But couldn’t be confirmed as a textually canon couple because of the severe censorship and restriction for the production and the final cuts for each episode. I mean there is a script where they outed them after all. It just couldn’t be allowed to see the light of day. I’m pretty freaking sure Steven L. Sears has it though and one of these days I will beg him to let me see it just for all time sake. Just to read how they actually were going to shoot that episode before NBC made them rework it. And there was also the Sappho musical episode that never made it to production either although you can find that script and it’s… alright… I guess. Plays like a piece of rushed-written femslash fanfiction but it’s decent. I’ve certainly read worse.

Oh, that’s another thing I forgot to mention in my last post. They were so serious about being in solidarity with the fans about Xena and Gabrielle that they actually commissioned actual FANFICTION writers to write episodes for the show that did make it passed the Final Cut. One of them is actually one of the best episodes of the entire show. Not just because of the representation provided but it’s genuinely a good story. But I’ve waxed poetic about ‘When Fates Collide’ enough (I’ll never wax poetic about it enough).

But yeah - that was something no show with a “non-canon” main protagonist relationship has ever done. Brought in fanfiction writers - actual shippers - and told them “write us a Xena and Gabrielle love story”. That was a big deal and proved just how serious they were about them seeing their relationship as canon.

#xena warrior princess #xena and gabrielle #romantic friendship #platonic romance #everyone and their dog knows they’re canon so I’m going to stop saying they’re not #even the creators say they are #it’s confusing people #representation is representation

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platoniromantic-feelings · 7 months

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A friend of mine just told me that he was asked on a date by a stranger today. He declined the request, though he said he was flattered by it and not upset or disturbed at being asked on a date by someone he had only known for an hour or two.

But I, platoniromantic wreck extraordinaire, am jealous. I don't want to be asked on dates; I want all my friends to date me. I don't want my dearest people to have romantic partners; I want them all to stay my best friends forever and have everyone else keep their hands off them. I want a sort of friendship hareem, in which I am the best friend of all my best friends and no one else is allowed to be my rival for their affections.

It is ridiculous, I know. I have no right to deprive my friends of dating, romance, marriage, and whatever else they may want. I have no right to ask them to reserve their hearts for me — someone who can't even give them "proper" romance or dating, let alone marriage or children.

But the jealousy makes me choke every time a friend of mine mentions dating.

I can't keep doing this. I can't let myself entertain these feelings; I'm supposed to be happy for my friends when they go on dates or find romantic partners or get married or whatever. But I don't know how to stop being jealous, especially when I know that no matter how much I love my friends, eventually they will choose romance over me.

And I cannot tell my friends this. It is not fair to them that I feel this way. What are they supposed to do about it? All it will do is make them feel guilty, or perhaps even resentful toward me. They are entitled to pursue the romantic relationships that make them happy without worrying about me and my unreasonable, selfish jealousy.

Do any of my fellow platoniromantics, or other aromantics, have suggestions or remarks?

#platoniromantic #jealousy #aromantic #aro-ace #romantic friendship #aromantic grief #friendship #platoniromantic-feelings original

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likealittleheartbeat · 9 months

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“Part of the fascination of nineteenth-century friendship literature is its depiction of romantic friendship as being negotiated, not primarily in fictional worlds of “men without women,” but in everyday urban or rural life, within mainstream society, and often in tandem with cross-sex emotional attachments. The range of women’s attitudes toward manly love detailed in these narratives may provide a clue to patterns of behavior and response in the broader culture.

Clearly, the female characters in these stories respond differently to being sidelined by, or at least having to share their lover’s attentions with, his romantic friend. Some of these women placidly accept sharing their man with another man. I’m thinking here of the likes of Mary Garland in Roderick Hudson, who does not object to her fiancé heading off to Italy with his friend and mentor the day after their engagement; and Hermia Faulkner in The Shadow of a Dream, who raises no objection to her husband both taking his friend on their honeymoon to Europe and installing him in their home upon their return.”

Alex Nissen, Manly Love: Romantic Friendship in American Fiction

#zukaang #zutaraang #romantic friendship #queer platonic love #platonic love is so much more than platonic love to queer men

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imaginethebeautifulworld · 11 months

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indeterminate intimacies

Newt didn’t know when they started being this open with each other, and he didn’t know when exactly he started to develop not-so-platonic feelings for his best friend, but he did know that he couldn’t let Hermann find out.

Had a chat with a mutual about some of Burn Gorman’s voice acting roles, and this immediately started writing itself. Featuring massages, light bickering, confessions, and Newton Geiszler’s inability to shut up for more than 5 seconds. 2.853 words.

What they were was indeterminate, hovering somewhere in the spaces of what was tangent and what could be, floating in a sea of 'maybe's and 'what ifs’.

It was a breathless wonder, facing that limitless potential, the breathless wonder at standing atop a precipice and the overwhelming compulsion to dive headfirst.

Electrifying.

Terrifying.

It was a plunge Newt wasn’t sure he would ever be willing to take.

Not now, anyway.

Not like this.

But what they had now? This... this unspoken intimacy? This was enough.

It was more than enough.

Hermann’s nails kept catching on his scalp, just light enough to tease, sending an endless fizzy kind of energy through Newt's nerve endings, every synapse flaring to life with each calculated movement of calloused fingers.

Newt may have whined- probably had- Hermann letting out a breath of air that sounded a touch too close to laughter for Newt to fully ignore it.

He offered a protest- or started to- but then Hermann purposely scratched the soft space behind Newt's right ear, and all energy to protest fled him as quickly as it had come. And Herms had the audacity to linger there, thumb lightly kneading delicate circles in the same space, other fingers creeping back to work at Newt's temple. And then-

"Oh, you ass..."

-Hermann's left hand came up to mirror his right, and Newt was lost to a sparkling sea of nebulae.

For a few moments, there was nothing except Hermann-

-Hermann... and the constellations sparking to life behind Newt's eyelids.

Even if he had wanted to focus on something else, he wasn't able to summon a damn thing, too lost in the gentle ebb and flow, lost to the patient, politic, practiced touch.

"If I had known this was all it took to keep you quiet," Hermann mused softly, "I would have started doing this years ago."

Newt scowled in annoyance, forcing open an eye to attempt a glare at Hermann.

It was... difficult... to stay angry though, hard to focus on any one thought, and then Herms' fingers were swiping just so, and-

They both froze.

In his defense, Newt had no idea he could even make a sound like that.

Hermann all but jerked away from him; Newt could feel the rigidness in his posture, in the sudden change of the weight displacement on the mattress. "Newton... Newton, I- I apologize-"

"Holy shit, dude-"

"-I can sto-"

"-No! God, no, just-"

"-p. Newton, are you sure you want me to...?" Hermann's voice trailed off, the question hanging heavily in the air between them.

Again, Newt was staring into that gaping precipice, overwhelmed by the rushing thrill and the ache for more, more, more-

"-please?"

Newt knew he sounded desperate, couldn't find it in him to care. The thought of losing this- whatever this was-

"God no. Don't stop."

There was still hesitance on his part, but slowly, excruciatingly slowly, Hermann relaxed once more, fingers resuming their dance through Newt's hair.

Incrementally, inescapably, they fell back to the familiar, and Newt let his eyes drift shut once more, heady from the sparks tingling across his skin, drowsy beneath the weight of his blanket.

Newt’s head fell to the side, cheek settling against his pillowcase, and Hermann's fingers followed instinctively, easily settling into a new rhythm.

Newt only just managed to convince his eyes to open again, room blurry from lack of glasses, only his lab partner somewhat clear. "...ould ‘ome 'own 'ere," he tried, sounds and syntax and syllables an incoherent mess of mumbling, scarcely escaping as a breath.

Hermann's eyebrow quirked, and the smallest twitch of his lips hinted at a bemused smile. "What was that?"

There was a fondness underwritten there, one Newt could recognize anywhere.

It had taken way too long, but finally, finally they were in tandem again. Newt had always known they would be, if they could get past that horrible first meeting, if they had the chance to actually try again- a chance to start over, to re-forge that epic bromance somewhere far away from where Herms had to keep up that mask of professional detachment, far away from the crowds and judgmental stares that always sent Newt’s anxiety into overdrive.

He always had a feeling they'd end up kind of like this, once they had the chance to actually just be themselves again.

Hermann and Newt, two wunderkinds desperately searching for someone who could finally understand them, both of them still scared shitless at just how far that understanding actually ran.

It was ironic, so painfully ironic, that they found their new start at the end of the fucking world.

Newt tried not to think about the future too much; if the Kaiju didn't end up taking them all out, then it was going to be Climate Change, and if it wasn't Climate Change, then-

No. He had to stop thinking so much.

The Future was a huge question mark, a pretty fucking terrifying one, but for now...

Right now...

Hermann’s left hand had settled on Newt's upper back, right hand having fallen away entirely, allowing Newt to turn and face him properly, narrowing his eyes in a bit of a challenge, though it sounded more like a plea. "I said 'you should come down here.'"

Hermann's face did that Thing- Newt didn't have a word for it; it was like Herms was shuffling through a dozen different expressions in the span of only seconds, jaw tensing and shifting, eyes narrowing minutely before returning to normal, the smallest flicker of a smile blooming before it was thrown away again- and then he shook his head, expression neutral. "What am I to do with you?"

There was a softness to the inquiry- rhetorical as anything- and Newt just smiled as innocently as he could manage with his face half-buried in his pillows. "Anything you want."

There was a definitive twist to Hermann's expression now, the shift subtle enough that the transition could have been missed were one not looking for it, but Newt? Newt lived for it.

"'Anything,’” Hermann murmured, rhetorical and playful as all hell, and damn him for somehow making those three syllables shoot Newt's pulse into overdrive. "Surely you know the dangers of offering someone the power to do anything, Newton."

Sure he did, but he wasn't offering it to just anyone.

Newt let his smile soften, felt his body relax even further into the mattress. "I trust you, dude. Even if you went total Bond villain or something, I probably still would."

Hermann's fingers had taken to working on Newt's shoulder blade, almost as if he knew that it had been bothering him for several days now.

Eventually, maybe, Newt would stop overworking his right arm so much; he was always using it too much, throwing around too much weight with it, and then he would have to spend a week with the fucker aching like crazy.

Herms must have known it was hurting- probably saw him favoring it after tossing out all those expired samples earlier- kneading dexterous fingers right into the edge of the plate, digging just enough beneath the inferior angle to reach the true source of Newt's pain, applying just enough pressure to encourage the release of tension-

-And then he focused on soothing away the inevitable discomfort the massage brought with it.

Newt sighed in relief, the world going softer around the edges, the little energy he had left dedicated to trying to focus on Hermann’s voice.

"-fourth novel was a bloody insult to his fans."

Whoops. He had completely zoned out.

"Shit, dude," Newt breathed out, letting his eyes flicker, words half-mumbled again. "I missed like... All of that."

Hermann sighed, somewhere between exasperated and fond. Another of Newt’s favorite songs; he could listen to that all day. He could listen to Herms talk all day, actually. He had such a nice voice; he'd be amazing at ASMR. Or like... Audiobooks maybe?

"Newt, you're rambling."

Newt’s eyes shot open, startled into silence at Hermann's casual use of his nickname.

That, and the sheer mortification that his thoughts had all likely just fallen right out of his mouth in a pile of listless word vomit.

All of his thoughts.

Herms just smiled upon noticing Newt's panic, and proceeded to ruffle his hair softly. "No need to worry. I believe you were listing the anatomical components of the shoulder-"

Oh thank f-

"-and going on about how much you love the sound of my voice."

-uck!

Newt experienced the two extremes of being caught in a truth that was never meant to see the light of day (or his lava lamp in this case).

Immediately came the cold, cold dread that left his chest aching and stomach clenching, twisted together with that horrible, horrible heat that always turned his cheeks into a blazing sort of red that almost perfectly matched his cousin’s favorite maroon sweater.

Overwhelmed by his embarrassment, and with nowhere else to hide, Newt turned and shoved his face so firmly into the pillow that he nearly broke his nose.

Hermann, the bastard, that- that- that too-amazing-for-anyone's-good asshole- was chuckling. “You needn't be embarrassed, Newton. I'm quite fond of your voice, as well."

Oh that was such-

"-ullshi-."

There was a pause, a clear shift in the air, before Hermann spoke again, voice far soberer. "Pardon?"

Newt huffed, embarrassment fading away into frustration, heat still clinging to his cheeks, as he twisted to face Hermann with his whole body, poking an accusing finger into the mathematician's chest. "I said-" Newt began pointedly, accenting each syllable with another sharp poke to Hermann's chest. "That is such bullshit," he finished emphatically, eyes narrowed in an attempt to see Herms better, frowning in his general direction. "My voice cracks all the time, I have literally no volume control, and-"

Hermann grabbed Newt's wrist, preventing further poking, eyebrows furrowed in agitation.

"-And that voice happens to be a crucial part of someone I consider very, very dear to me."

It took a few seconds for Hermann's interruption to register, the words settling under Newt's skin, weaving their way into his chest.

Well shit.

Newt deflated, every hint of fight leaving him. "You- You can't just say stuff like that, dude. You can’t say shit like that and expect me to not-"

He cut himself off immediately.

No, Newt.

Not now.

Not here.

Not like this.

"To not what, Newton?"

Hermann’s grip shifted once more, thumb tracing circles on Newt's palm, and damn him for making Newt start to tumble into a cascading meteor shower all over again.

But it was too late.

Hermann had trapped him in his gravity well years ago, and Newt had long ago given up trying to escape it.

Didn't want to escape it.

"Herms..." Newt started, unsure if it was more a warning or a plea.

"Newton..." Hermann faded off, tone softening, almost apprehensive. "Please?"

Hermann had shifted closer in the past few moments, eyes carefully seeking out any tells, any clues, and Newt was lost all over again in the face of that infinite, spectacular brown.

This close, he could trace every sharp angle, every indented imperfection, and each of those small spaces where stress and time had already staked a claim.

Gaia, he was beautiful. Beautiful in that way that was so perfectly Hermann, in the way that when you love someone they become the most beautiful person you've ever seen.

Dammit, Newt was so gone on him.

And Herms?

Herms deserved to know, needed to know that for Newt this wasn't just a passing, fleeting thing, that these moments, hidden away from the rumor mill and prying eyes, where they were each other's crutch and support and confidant-

Hermann deserved to know just how much Newt had come to treasure each and every second of it.

How lost he'd be without him.

And fuck it; who knew if they'd even live long enough to see the next attack?

There was no guarantee in life, and suddenly the thought of never taking that leap, of never showing Hermann the cliff that Newt was so close to falling off of-

The thought of never telling him the truth was suddenly much more terrifying than whatever rejection it might bring.

"You can’t-" Newt cut off, huffing before diving headfirst into the cavernous Unknown, making a point to find Hermann's eyes. "...You can’t just say stuff like that and not expect me to fall a little bit in love with you."

Hermann's shuddering breath brought with it a coiled tension that Newt knew all too well; he'd seen it after dealing with inconsiderate bigots at fundraisers, during every phone call with Lars or Dietrich, any time Hermann made a miscalculation, negating hours upon hours of work.

And in that moment, Newt hated himself.

He wished for nothing more than the ability to take it all back, wished he could stop putting his goddamn foot in his mouth all the time, wished he could stop hurting the people he-

"I..." A single slip of breath from Hermann, barely a distinguishable word or sound, and Newt was ripped right back into the precarious present, everything- Everything- hanging on the precipice, and he had no hope of salvation, so convinced of destruction, that he was completely thrown by the surprise on Hermann's face, chest clenching at the appearance of those adorable eye crinkles, the almost lost, pleading way Hermann was studying him, searching Newt for answers to questions he only had to ask.

Fuck, Newt would give Hermann anything he wanted, especially if he kept looking at him like he'd hung the fucking sun.

"...Herms?"

He knew the guy wasn't great with sentiment, and English wasn't great with its limited classifications for affection and fondness and coming to love your best friend so deeply that you were pretty sure you were soulmates in another life, even if biologically speaking there really wasn’t such a thing as soulmates, and humans had such bizarre bonding rituals as it was and yet you-

A hand finding his own brought his thoughts to a screeching halt, and Newt blinked dumbly at the image of Hermann’s pale, elegant fingers lacing with his own ink-stained, freckled ones.

"You're rambling again."

Oh.

That would explain why he felt so out of breath and kind of on the brink of a panic attack.

Hermann’s thumb was mapping out fractals again, and Newt wasn't sure if it was to try to calm him down or if Herms was just stalling for time.

Probably both.

"If it's any consolation, I care deeply for you, too."

No, Herms...

"Herms, you don't have to-"

"-Let me finish, Geiszler," Hermann cut in, crisp and cold as a winter’s morning, the intended effect completely countered by the soft squeeze of Newt’s fingers and-

Wow, when exactly had this become a normal thing for them, anyways?

At Newt's lack of an answer, Hermann took the cue to continue, each word fumbling out as if he were dragging them, heaving them, struggling to bring them to the surface. "Of all the disruptions I've faced in this life, I admit that I've found you continuously proving to be the most pleasant of them."

"Thanks, I think?" Newt responded with a wry twist of his lips, earning a huff from the other.

"Hush, you delinquent; let me think a moment."

Newt felt a smile; Herms was using insults as affectionate epitaphs again.

"Please believe me when I say that I do care about you, Newton, in a way I can neither explain nor hope to quantify. I-” Hermann paused, doing that Thing with his face again, before he settled with a raised brow, the slightest hint of a smile. "You are my dearest, truest friend, and I wouldn't wish to face the Abyss with anyone else at my side."

Newt could do nothing except stare, awestruck at the surety of Hermann's words, the determination, the pure warmth in his expression. He was lost, floating somewhere far beyond Earth's atmosphere, falling headfirst into a black hole.

Herms loved him.

And-

Reality came back to Newt in a collapsing rush, awareness slamming him back into his own imperfect carbon-based form with the furor of an imploding star.

-holy shit.

Hermann loved him.

And even if this- this casual intimacy- was the most that ever came of it, even if Hermann never loved Newt the same way, this was-

Shit; this was more than he could have hoped for. Newt was fucking flying.

What exactly they were remained indeterminate, the classification still hovering somewhere in the spaces of what was tangent and what could be, but now they had crossed over the precipice.

Newt had taken the plunge, Hermann trailing only a half-step behind, both of them falling into this new Unknown Thing together. It was the end of the world- maybe- but they would be facing it together.

"'Hand in unlovable hand,'" Newt asked with a grin, lifting their intertwined hands for emphasis.

Hermann rolled his eyes and let slip a warm laugh, clearly in spite of himself.

It sent liquid sunshine rushing through Newt's veins.

Thanks for reading!

#newmann #newton x hermann #pacific rim #fanfiction #romantic friendship #newton geiszler #newt geiszler #hermann gottlieb #hello lovelies!#clearly i am spiraling~#thank you for reading!#pacrim #canon compliant

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mclennonlgbt · 2 years

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How did Paul react to John's rejection with songs?

Whether or not traditional Beatles scholars like it, John and Paul didn’t lose their bond in 1968. Their emotions were still hot, albeit more complex, and they reacted to each other. And since they were musicians, the best way was to write songs. John reacting to Paul's behavior with songs is a known case (see: I'm so tired, Jealous guy, Instant Karma ect.). However, little is said about the fact that Paul also responded with music to John's behavior. Today I wanted to focus on how McCartney reacted to Lennon's rejection (not always romantic) because that seems particularly interesting to me.

JUNK

It had been perfectly described by Better than looking at the mirror HERE. Let's look at the 1968 Lennon/McCartney timeline: Mid-February - The Beatles arrive in India. 26th March - Paul leaves. 12th April - John leaves. After that, he's absolutely mentally devastated and overuses drugs. Certainly, there are a lot of reasons for that, the most important being John's mental disorders which are not treated properly. But also, his relationship with Paul seems to be a significant factor. Something wrong happened between them in India. There are quite a few theories. The most popular is Lennon declaring his romantic and/or sexual affection to Paul and Paul rejecting him (and in a way, John himself suggested erotic tension between them). I think it's possible and I name the second thing: Paul leaving India so early. John was in a terrible mental state, he even wanted to kill himself. And most likely McCartney didn't support him, which left Lennon heartbroken and dissapointed (perfectly valid). However, we are also uncertain whether John made it clear to Paul that he needed help. Probably not, because he believed he and Paul were telepathically connected and knew all about each other.

May 11th to May 16th - John and Paul are in New York to promote the Beatles new company, Apple. There are a lot of audio and video footage of them: they gave the interview to US press on 13th May, they appear on Tonight Show, on Apple press conference, and gave the radio interview to Mitchelle Krause which was later aired on the program „Newsfront” (all 4 meetings happened on May 14th). IMO the negative tension between Lennon and McCartney in palpable. John in frustrated and annoyed and Paul seems evasive and like knowing he somehow fucked up. What's more, on the radio interview John seems to be giving a hint about "forbidden love" for which the public is not ready, and we can hear Paul feeling uncomfortable about it. During their stay McCartney meets Linda Eastman, a photographer he talked a year earlier with. On the final day, he invites Linda to go with him and John to the airport. She does it and takes a few photos of them. John later (in 1970) expressed he felt very uncomfortable with Linda's presence.

May 19th - depressed John consumes LSD, has a bad trip and gets together with Yoko (who helps him to "rebuild his ego"): they spend their first night in John's house and record their first avantgarde album. 3 days later they make their 1st public appearance as a couple. 30th is the 1st day of White Album sessions. And it this gap between 16th and 30th May Paul completed "Junk" (which can be heard on Esher demos). As Paul said about the lyrics: "Sounds like one lover saying “bye, bye” and the other plaintively asking “why, why”, even as the junk in the yard demands an explanation for the urge to acquire something – or somebody – new". It's easy to see that Macca was putting his current emotions into a song. With John commiting to a new lover - who he valued so high that they appear publicly, despite having a wife - Paul might feel like a discarded "Junk" and expressed it. I'm not saying it was the only reason for his low frame of mind at the time but clearly one of the most important.

GOODBYE (here's the official version)

The track, written by Paul and performed by Mary Hopkin, was released at March 28th, 1969. As we can read on Wikipedia, "[the song] was written in a great hurry to capitalise on Hopkin's popularity". It means that Paul wrote in probably in March 1969. And you know what also happened in March 1969? Lennon and McCartney's weddings. Paul and Linda got married at March 12th and John and Yoko at March 20th. If someone read Paul's feeling towards John as purely platonic, they would think that Macca started a new family and it had nothing to do with Lennon. But that's not my opinion. And it's not a coincidence that John decided to got married right after Paul (he organised wedding in a hurry). Both men ended the month with a thought: "We have new life partners now". I'm not implying John and Paul were physical lovers (I don't exclude that option tho) but there certainly was some romantic tension and a hope to push their relationship further, at least from John's side, and I suppose partially from Paul's (sometimes I think differently, let's leave that lol). But it didn't happen. So McCartney is writing a farewell song. "Goodbye, my love, goodbye". I linked a demo of this tune, performed by Paul, and it's interesting to hear him singing: "Far away my lover sings a lonely song and calls me to his side".

DEAR FRIEND and LITTLE LAMB DRAGONFLY

In December 1970 John gave an interview to „Rolling Stone” journalist Jan Wenner; the interview later appeared as the book "Lennon Remembers". John spoke in an unpleasant, even brutal way. It’s worth noting that he was then under the influence of Arthur Janov's primal scream therapy. Janov was a homophobe and John took over his language, insulting with homophobic terms e.g. Mick Jagger and Brian Epstein. What’s more, John harshly criticizes Paul and the Beatles (calling them a „myth”). He says that Paul’s first solo album is „rubbish” and claims that McCartney during Beatle years was a conformist and cared only about the commercial side of songs. Lennon’s complaints are also about Paul being controlling and egoistic.

We can imagine how hurt Paul felt after reading this interview. He was judged very severely: his flaws were exaggerated, and his contribution to the development of the Beatles (e.g. interesting John in the avant-garde or the use of tape loops on "Tomorrow Never Knows") was not even mentioned. It must have been terrible wound and massive rejection of his talent and creativity.

Paul, as usual, poured his emotions into songs. In response to John's poisonous comments, he wrote „Dear Friend”. It’s likely he also wrote "Little Lamb Dragonfly" at the same time (late 1970). Interestingly, Paul decides not to attack Lennon.

In „Dear Friend”, he tries to approach him with understanding. As John's closest friend for many years, Paul knows his insecurities perfectly. He asks: „Are you afraid, or is it true?”. The most interesting line is: „Dear friend, throw the wine, I’m in love with a friend of mine”. It is very puzzling and unclear. Why does Paul use the word "friend" two more times? Maybe he assures John that he is still in love with him? Or maybe there are two friends – John („Dear friend, throw the wine”) and Linda („I’m in love with a friend of mine”)? If the latter interpretation is true, Paul is delicately trying to reassure John that he genuinely loves Linda and his family, so he’s not going to abandon them for John, but they can still be friends. Maybe this is: "We are both happily married and we can maintain platonic relationship”?

IMO "Little Lamb Dragonfly" has darker lyrics and expresses disappointment. „I have no answer to you, little lamb, I can help you out, but I cannot help you in”. Paul sees John as trapped by his negative emotions. As long as he doesn't want to change his attitude, no one else will help him. However, Paul admits that he loves John: „My heart is breaking for you, little lamb”; „Since you’ve gone, I never know, I go on, but I miss you so”. What’s more, McCartney still hopes he and his best friend can reconnect: „You and I still have a way to go”. But for that to happen, both sides have to want it!

„Dear Friend” was released on „Wild Life” album in December 1971. Probably the song influenced John's feelings. Later that month, Paul, Linda, John and Yoko met and agreed that they would no longer argue in public. "Little Lamb Dragonfly" appeared on "Red Rose Speedway" album in April 1973. And that time, John and Paul had a good relationship again.

CALL ME BACK AGAIN

It’s a well-known fact that during „Lost weekend” (John and Yoko’s separation, which covered 18 months between 1973 and 1975) John and Paul re-developed their friendship. They had a jam session in March 1974. Lennon even seriously considered writing songs again with his former partner. Paul also missed his best friend. When John, May Pang, Paul and Linda met in New York in 1975, Macca revealed they are going to New Orleans to record. „We’d like to meet us there”, he told Lennon. John, of course, wanted to go there. He was very excited and wrote the song "Howling at the Moon". Unfortunately, before John and Paul could reconnect, Yoko called and told her husband he could go home now.

It’s obvious that „Call me back again” – a song which appeared on 1975 Wings „Venus and Mars” album – is about that situation. Paul recalls growing up together with John. "Well when I, when I was just a little baby boy / Every night I would call, your number brought me joy" - quite an obvious reference to the teenage years, when John and Paul spent every free moment with each other and loved to talk to each other.

But this song is not nostalgic nor joyful. It expresses desperation and pain.

"I called your house, every night since then / But I ain't never, no no never heard you calling me" - probably a reference to the fact that Yoko was controlling John's contacts with his friends and whenever Paul, Mick Jagger or some other acquaintance tried to contact John by phone, she lied that her husband couldn't come over now. And then, of course, she didn't say anything to him.

"Come on and call me / Ooh boo boo boo babe" - Paul missed John so much! At some concerts, Paul would quietly pronounce his name during the song.

Interestingly, "Call me back again" contains a mellotron that sounds like flutes. Maybe Paul is referring to „Strawberry Fields Forever” intro here???

I know I have only touched on the topic a bit here. I’m aware I have very briefly described the Lennon-McCartney dynamics. Treat this post as a stimulus to your own research! <3

#mclennon #analysis #speculation #essay #the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #lennon mccartney #romantic friendship #friendship #kinship #queerplatonic relationship #queer love #love is love #mary hopkin #wings #yoko ono #linda eastman #all these songs are amazing tbh

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amarrymeinbostonwriter · 1 year

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2023 Pinterest 50 Book Reading Challenge

50. A Book You Started but Never Finished

Surpassing the Love of Men by Lillian Faderman

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screpa · 1 year

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Levi opening up to you about intimacy

Summary: Levi regularly accompanied you to work on your side-assignment for Hange. One night, he opened up to you about his trouble with intimacy.

Note: This event happened around 2-3 years after you and Levi joined the Survey Regiment. Levi's excellent performance made him went up the career ladder faster than anyone else. He was a Scout Leader while you were still a cadet.

Tags: Mature, fluff, romance, slow burn, friendship, intimacy

Read on AO3 or here ^^ up to you...

Following the night Levi thanked you for the portraits you drew of Isabel and Furlan, he regularly joined you whenever you were in the mess hall to you work on your side-assignment for Hange. Hange liked your sketches, so you were given the task of sketching the titans you encountered and making notes of their behaviour. You would have worked on your side-assignment for a couple of hours before he’d come to sit opposite you. Usually it’d be closer to midnight.

He would just sit there in silence looking at the work that you put on the side. Sometimes he’d comment on your titan sketches and notes. He’d add some details, asked some questions to clarify some things, or even debated some of your interpretations.

But he was always respectful, unlike the training times. That, oh, that was hell. You just had to get used to his berating and insults. Yet, he’d turn into this respectful gentleman when it came to your work. You were no longer surprised of the change as you decided to accept the two different sides of him.

Sometimes Hange would join you and the session would be more animated. Well, Hange never failed to brighten up the room with their presence and intriguing mind. But grouchy Levi would be more of a spectator. Only providing some grunts and short sharp remarks now and then. You didn’t think he minded at all though. You knew that Hange had a comforting effect to him as well.

Although the three of you grew closer, you didn’t really spend the day with each other. Levi was always with Erwin or the other Squad Leaders and Captains. Hange hid in her office with Mobilt. (You were shipping the two of them so hard). You, well, you were stuck with training and some extra cleaning duty – an honorable gift from yours truly, Levi.

Even after years had passed since he started to accompany you, the brief times you get to spend with Levi and Hange were always precious to you.

—

One morning, you were in the training ground for an intensive cadet training under the supervision of Captain Miche and Levi. You thanked the heavens that Miche was the person in charge of designing the session. He would also be the one that would give the performance evaluation. You knew that if Levi was in charge, you would never get a pass unless you performed the tasks perfectly in his eyes.

You were the first to complete the tasks and you approached the two men for the stamp of approval. You gave the form to Miche. He held the paper to stamp it but stopped.

‘Did I miss something, Captain?’ You asked Miche worriedly.

You saw him sniffing. First the paper, then toward you.

He sniffed you before, so you thought you would be spared of his sniffing after that first encounter. You became self-conscious and started to want to sniff yourself. You sniffed both of your shoulders to try to get a whiff of yourself. You hoped that you didn’t emit some funky smell due to the training.

Then you caught sight of Levi’s disgusted expression as he stared at you sniffing yourself.

You threw him a glare, then gesturing with your eyes, asking him what was going on.

He just shrugged then looked away, uninterested.

Very helpful, you thought.

Finally Miche said, ‘there’s something spicey in your scent that I couldn’t get quite a hang of what it is’.

You tried to think what it was.

‘Was it cloves?’ you asked.

Miche’s face brightened, ‘that’s what it was! It was too rare that I didn’t smell it that often’. He stamped the form. As he returned the form, he asked again, ‘how did you chance upon the fine spice?’

‘Oh, one of the cadets gave me a pouch of potpourri. A luxurious one with some orange, cinnamon, and cloves,’ you smiled at Mitch. You shared that information just because you knew of his interests in fragrances. Else, he wouldn’t be this chatty, especially with you.

‘Ah, he’s a keeper,’ Miche told you matter of factly.

You blushed at this misunderstanding. You put both your palms up and tried to deny it. No words came out, just some stuttering. Then you decided to just late it go. You thanked him with a deep bow and walked away.

You forgot to catch a glimpse of Levi to see his reaction. Now it was too late. It’d be too awkward to look back now, so you kept jogging toward the dorm.

—

That evening in the mess hall, you sat with your fellow cadets at one of the long tables. You looked for Hange and saw them sitting at the Commander’s table. They saw you and gave you cheerful waves with both of their hands. Knocking the captains sitting on their sides. Then you saw Levi sitting by Erwin. He was also facing your direction. No acknowledgement whatsoever. He just looked bored munching on his food. Like someone forced him to eat.

You shifted your attention to your own food and your friends. Then someone asked the cadet on your left to scoot over so he could sit beside you. It was Eric, the cadet that gifted you the potpourri in the morning. The other cadets started to giggle and tease as he sat down next to you. You immediately felt awkward and scratched you head. You tried to scoot a bit more to the right, but the cadet on your right gave you a playful wink as a signal for you to stay put.

You tried to continue eating your food, trying not to make a big deal of Eric’s attention and the others’ teasing. You knew Eric for a while now. And you knew that he had a thing for you as he wasn’t shy to express his feelings through his actions and words. But, you found him to come on a bit strong. And the way that he got the other cadets pining for you both were a bit too much for you.

You didn’t want to accept the potpourri that time because you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. But he guilt tripped you into accepting it. Now you realised your mistake as he might thought that you had accepted his advances. You bit your lip in frustration, kicking yourself for being so stupid. Now you had to find a way to get him to know that you were not interested in a relationship.

Then you heard your saving grace talking behind you.

‘My darling, are you done eating?’ said the owner of the voice that always gave you comfort.

You tilted your head back to see Hange’s sweet face smiling down on you. They bent down and planted a kiss on your forehead. They smiled and said softly, ‘if you’re done, I’d like to steal you away from your friends. I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart’. They planted you yet another sweet kiss on the forehead.

Gratefully you said, ‘would you help me out? I’m kindda stuck here’.

‘Gladly,’ they said with a smile. They then hugged you from behind and gently pulled you out of the long bench. When you were out, they pressed you for an even tighter hug. ‘Oh, I can’t get enough of my baby bear,’ they said with a baby voice.

‘Okay, my dear, I need to take this tray away,’ you reluctantly pulled yourself away. You wished to get more of that hug later.

You said goodbye to your fellow cadets, who were now looking at you with confusion and awe. They didn’t think that you could land a Captain, someone so high up in the rank. Eric, on the other hand, seemed flustered. He wouldn’t dare to make a move on a Captain’s girl after this.

You thanked your best friend on your way out. And gave them hug attacks as soon as you were out of peering eyes.

—

That night Hange had to have a serious meeting with Mobilt. You had no idea what it was about, but it sounded suspicious. Mobilt was flustered, but he was always overwhelmed by Hange’s energy and ideas. You hoped some steamy action would happed between them, but you knew that it was only wishful thinking. Mobilt was too rigid for his own good!

So you went to the mess hall to do some titan sketching. You didn’t plan to stay too long since you were swamped by the training.

You found Levi already sitting in his usual spot. That’s new, you thought.

‘You’re here early?’ You greeted him.

‘Hm’.

You sat on your spot opposite him and started to take out your stuff. You started to work directly. He kept his silence while looking at the papers. Nothing out of the ordinary.

‘Do you hug everyone like that?’ He asked breaking the silence.

You looked up from your paper and looked at him.

‘What did you say?’ You asked in confusion.

‘You heard me,’ he said flatly.

You sat straighter and titled your head up to think. You put the butt of the pencil under your lips as you think.

‘I hug Hange A LOT. They’re my source of comfort here. I may hug some of the girl cadets, but more of a side hug, you know. Sometimes when they're back from an expedition or after vacation days, I'd give them a full hug. I can’t think of a male cadet friend that I’d hug though. Haven’t been close enough to be comfortable to give them hugs. The only man I’ve truly hugged was my father. There was this know-it-all neighbour kid that I was fond of. Him, I hugged a lot.’

You told him your thoughts. Then you saw his blank face.

‘As for you,’ you stopped to make a fake shivering gesture. ‘You, I would hug just as I hugged Hange. But I don’t really want to end up in the infirmary’. You laughed as you said this.

You saw his face relaxed and a slight smile formed on his lips.

You shook your head for his silly question and went back to work.

He adjusted his sitting position. Resting his elbows on the desk. Putting his upper body a bit closer toward you.

His soft voice caught your attention and you stopped working to look at him. Aware of his face being closer than usual to yours.

‘You know I wouldn’t intentionally hurt you like that, right?’

You nodded.

‘My mother was never shy from expressing her affection toward me. She hugged and kissed me. Sang songs, told me stories, all while having me in her arms. It was too short of a time that I haven’t learned how to return her affection,’ he said while staring deep into your eyes.

You nodded and didn’t break eye contact.

‘And her work,’ he stopped.

You stayed silent, patiently waiting for him to continue.

‘What she did for us to survive. The touches she had to endure. They were filthy. I know that the two touches are different. But I don’t know how to differentiate them’.

He looked at you intently, wishing for answers.

You mimicked his posture. Your face moved closer to his.

‘It’s all about the intention, I think. Do you do it out of love, care, affection? Or, do you do it to exploit the other person? Of course, we couldn’t know for sure of other people’s intention or feelings. But, you could sense it, couldn’t you? Maybe trust in yourself more, believe that you are capable and worthy of giving and receiving love. Even though the time was short, your mother had exposed you to her beautiful unconditional love’.

You pushed yourself back. You felt that you had to move away from him, out of fear that you’d do something impulsive like caressing his hair or, worse, planting a kiss somewhere on that gorgeous face of his.

He didn’t move and kept his eyes on yours.

Suddenly one of his hands reached out toward your face and pinched you cheek. First tenderly, then more firmly and then shook it a bit.

You yelped in surprise.

Then he gently banged the desk with his palm and pushed himself up, out of the bench.

‘Good night, brat,’ he said as he walked toward the exit.

‘Good night,’ you replied. Then you whispered to yourself, ‘weirdo’.

You were grateful that he finally shared a piece of himself with you. You imprinted this tender moment in your mind, not wanting to miss or forget any details.

Following this night, he seemed to be more relaxed toward you. He would sit or stand beside you. His body did not clench anymore whenever you accidentally brushed or bumped each other. [Unless, of course, you were covered in filth, then he would keep a big distance between you]. You knew, for a certainty, that he had seen you as his dear friend.

This story is part the "Detours to Your Heart" series, comprises of stories about YOUR friendship and slow burn romance with Levi Ackerman. You build many interesting relationships with other AOT characters, such as ambiguous friendship/ romance with Hange Zoe, a whirlwind romance with Bertolt Hoover, sibling-like relationship with Jean Kirstein, and many more!

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#attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #levi x you #levi x fem!reader #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman #fluff #aot fluff #slow burn #romantic friendship #female reader #x reader #hange #hange zoe #hange x you #hange x y/n #hange x reader

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artpickle · 2 years

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In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado

#carmen maria machado #dream house #in the dream house #romantic friendship #platonic love #queer friendship

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addictionstoo · 11 months

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#boygenius #julien baker #lucy dacus #phoebe bridgers #new lock screen #love this photoshoot #lucys hands look so #soft #romantic friendship

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blrrblog · 8 months

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His Blind Spot

Romantic fluff. Really cute stuff. Will have you giggling blushing kicking your feet up.

He was not used to having other people in his blind spot, but this particular person seemed to know him better than anyone else. With no way of knowing exactly what she looked like from his point of view, he felt the need to ask.

"Would you mind telling me what you look like? I don't want my imagination to run wild and end up doing you a disservice by seeing you as someone else entirely. I only know the basics; you have brown hair and you're not the tallest or shortest. Beyond that, I'd hate to assume something I can't be sure of."

"Hmm..."

Then, it was as if she had an a-ha moment. She looked around to see if anyone was passing them. When the coast was clear, he heard her voice again.

"Well, why don't you find out for yourself..."

He suddenly felt her soft hands clasping his, then the sensation of what he imagined to be her... face.

"...like this?"

His cheeks suddenly flushed at the abrupt touch of her face. He hadn't expected to have his hands on someone's face. To him, a person's face was like their most private part, since he couldn't see it, but a lot of his personal feelings were tied to it.

He took his time, gently feeling around her face, like an artist's fingers exploring the contours of a canvas. Suddenly, what felt like an endless list of adjectives ran through his mind. The soft curve of her cheekbones, the shape of her eyebrows, the hollows of her eyes, the contours of the bridge of her nose, the fullness of her lips...

The way her skin wasn't smooth to the touch as his fingers brushed over her moles and blemishes - it felt far more interesting to touch than silky smooth skin - and a wide, tight smile that held a few giddy squeals.

He thought for a moment about telling her what was on his mind, but decided against it. Instead, he laughed shyly.

"You have a lovely face, you know. Your looks match your character."

He said as he moved closer to her face.

"You are..."

He paused for a moment, forcing his nervousness down his throat. Instead, it manifested itself as butterflies in his stomach, making his pale cheeks glow pink. It was suffocating.

"The bane of my existence."

#oc #my ocs my beloved #oneshot #romantic #fluff #giggling and twirling my hair #giggling and kicking my legs #romantic friendship #friends to lovers #oc love #wholesome #i love them #lovers #blind oc

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citnamora · 1 year

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When they're in love with each other in an explicitly platonic way. When they're tender with one another, teasing, sharing playful chemistry that always guides the spotlight back to them. When you can see them, clear in your head, devoted to each other in a way that perhaps confuses and confounds those around them. But it's a love so pure, so cathartic- sparks that bring warmth and life to each other's lives. And maybe no one else understands it quite like they do but they're content with what love they've fostered. In the end that's all that matters, isn't it?

#drabble #platonic love #friendship #romantic friendship #would you believe me if this was a) an accidental drabble and b) inspired by a rat and a bird #iykyk (hiiiii)

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lothiriel84 · 10 months

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Happiness in Marriage

As much as she was sensible of Charlotte’s role in putting an end to Mr Collins’ unwelcome suit, Elizabeth could scarcely feel anything beyond disappointment.

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Biromantic!Elizabeth/implied lesbian!Charlotte.

As much as she was sensible of Charlotte’s role in putting an end to Mr Collins’ unwelcome suit, Elizabeth could scarcely feel anything beyond disappointment at what she perceived as a betrayal of the implicit understanding she had always supposed to exist between herself and her dear friend. It was nothing distasteful, of course – their friendship had scarcely ever strayed beyond the boundaries of propriety, with the sporadic exception of a few stolen kisses and the occasional furtive caress. On her part, Charlotte had always made it abundantly clear that she did not care for men in the slightest, yet had frequently seen fit to remind her friend that their respective situation in life made matrimony their only option to secure a comfortable life for themselves.

Privately, Elizabeth had been entertaining high hopes of her most beloved sister getting married advantageously one day, thus saving her the trouble of procuring a husband for herself; and while she would never wish her dear Jane unhappy, she could not help but resent Mr Bingley for dashing her own secret hopes as well as those of her sister. While not completely indifferent to a gentleman’s charms herself, she would have much preferred for her and Charlotte to be allowed to continue as they had before.

For a moment, her thoughts strayed to Mr Wickham; as much as she would have liked to fancy herself in love, she couldn’t see any particular risk there, even without taking the gentleman’s impoverished circumstances into account. He had a much pleasing figure, that was true, and his manners were amiable and easy; yet it was nothing to the deep affection she held for Charlotte, and while she believed she could possibly exert herself to increase her regard out of spite for Mr Darcy’s unpardonable conduct, she could scarcely countenance such a deception on her part.

(As for Mr Darcy himself, she would simply not dwell on the reasons he so often occupied her thoughts, let alone acknowledge the inexplicable flutter about her person she had occasionally experienced in his presence.)

If Mr Bingley persisted in staying away from Netherfield, she supposed she would have to do her duty and find herself an eligible suitor eventually – well, as eligible as her pittance of a dowry might allow, at any rate – and she prayed for someone as different from Mr Collins as could possibly be conceived. As little as she could speculate about the marriage bed, she knew she could never face the prospect of submitting to such a man, if his constant company didn’t drive her mad first; she shuddered at the thought of what Charlotte would be made to endure, but then again, it had been her own choice, and she hoped for her friend’s sake that the security provided by a comfortable house would be enough to compensate her for her sacrifice.

What sort of man she could ever be prevailed upon to marry, she could scarcely imagine. (And if the figure of a certain gentleman persisted in troubling her dreams, she determinedly put it down to her own animosity in his regard, and was content.)

#Pride and Prejudice #Elizabeth Bennet #Charlotte Lucas #Elizabeth/Charlotte #biromantic character #closeted lesbian character #romantic friendship #non-sexual relationship #I wrote a thing #Pride (In the Name of Love) [collection]

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