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jjkpls · 3 years

Text

the wishlist (m) - 2

“Since when do we buy each other sextoys?”

> genre : light angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 5k

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, lot of pining; sextoys talk; explicit language; ambiguous infidelity; chaotic oc; clueless koo

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It all starts with the first box and the vague memory of a warm touch on your face.

When you wake up that morning, groggy from exhaustion and the sensation of having spent the night waking up, again and again, you sense something. You struggle to point out if you’ve dreamt or if it really happened, but there’s the lingering of a warm hand's trace, cupping your cheek, soothing the stress lines on your forehead, and softly brushing your hair back from your face. You can’t tell if it’s happened but it left a lovely sensation both on your skin and heart.

You get up and out of bed, slowly stroll to your living room with a lazy hand raising to your head, meaning to scratch at the snake nest you expect to be sitting on it. Instead, your fingers are met with a rather neat braid you definitely didn’t go to sleep with as you were too fucking done with this day to even try and deal with your tight bun -the very bun that elongated your time to fall asleep by at least a good half an hour. The same fingers that caressed your face took care of your hair and you know exactly to whom they belong.

Of course, giddiness ensues and the mildly serious feeling of mortification -you despise the idea of not knowing in what state he found you, in what state of ugly, of dishevelled, of smelly. There’s no room for embarrassment in this friendship, not this kind anyway, fortunately or not, he’s seen you at your worst (at a time when you didn’t care much if he did or not) so it counters, always a bit, the shame.

He hasn't left your side yet, has he? And he’s exposing himself to this face of yours, so why should you feel bad about it? He sneaks into your apartment at night just to brush your face and bring the covers up to your chin, tuck you nicely in as if he’s your mom or something, so why should you care. He doesn’t seem to mind. He never seems to mind. He’s the best of friends. The best of all the people you know and the best of your friends.

And of course, naturally fitting this role, you’d find the morning of Christmas, a mysterious box you’ve never seen before sitting on your coffee table.

The girls, your friends, have presents for you, you know they do, but yesterday you were working and couldn’t see them, therefore, the little celebration was reported and you didn’t expect, you wouldn’t expect them to come at night or early in the morning to bring you your gifts. It can wait (so they decided).

But Jungkook is sweet like no one else is.

And he came to wish you a merry Christmas even if you were too tired to wish him back and he left a present for you.

There’s not a name attached to it but it’s obvious it comes from him. There’s just a post-it he stole from your desk, with a Merry Christmas written on it, the lines of the letters, round and neat, you’d recognize from any other lettering and a bunny with teeth as big as the eyes smiling at you, drawn next to it.

The box is so pretty, you feel an actual pressure thinking about opening it, as if there is a certain way, a proper way, to go about it.

And apparently, there is. You go wash your face and rinse your mouth, prepare yourself one of your good teas, tear the curtain wide open and slowly, almost ceremoniously, take a seat on the ground, right in front of it.

The box is neat. You don’t know what’s inside, probably a perfume or some kit for the bath you’d assume, but you already know that whatever is inside, even if it’s not of your liking -which is impossible, it comes from Jungkook-, will be balanced out by the appearance of this perfectly elegant, tasteful box that you’ll use again to stock anything, maybe your face masks, maybe nothing -it’ll just sit, looking good on a shelf.

It’s a pastel blue, with a black rose drawn on top of it, the icon to a brand you absolutely don’t recognize. With fingers trembling with excitement you drag the box to yourself, it’s mildly heavy, for some reasons, it gives you a little rush of anxiety. There’s just a tiny black ribbon holding the box firmly closed. A tiny pull on it and it slips open.

Slowly you lift the lid, a grin already plastered on your face, hurting your cheeks. You expect a blinding magical light to come out of it, with the sound of bells ringing near your ears and sense to suddenly knock into you as you’d understand what wondrous present is in front of you.

But none of it comes. There's just a thing hidden inside a black satin bag.

It’s not a perfume nor a bath kit and you’re confused.

A bit scared.

Honestly, maybe a little shameful part of you has guessed it. But the louder yet weaker rest of you can’t see it. It would be too... ludicrous. And wouldn’t make sense, would it? You’ve never actually seen any in real life so how would you know what the packaging would look like and how would you come to this conclusion now? And how, why, how would he, Jeon Jungkook, come about to offer you this?

Doesn’t make any sense.

But somehow, when you pick up the courage to open the little bag and drag the object out of it, you hardly even gasp in surprise when you discover a dildo. You just let it drop to the table, thumping loudly the fake wood.

Why did you guess it to be that and why did he get you this shit?

Scorching red seize your face and your whole being.

You are infuriated.

How dares he? You are mortified. How dares he?

What does this fucking mean?

A joke?

Is it a joke?

If it a joke then what’s the fucking point? It’s not fucking funny. It’s weird as hell and you can’t believe he came in the middle of the night, pretending to be Santa to leave you a fucking kidding present as if your miserable life needed that.

And if it’s not then what the actual fuck? Does he think you’re that desperate? Does he have really no notion of boundaries?

Conveniently your phone lays centimetres away from the offending thing, you don’t even need to get up to grab it and therefore, you start looking furiously for his name in your recent call list. After only two rings as if he was just expecting your call, his bright hello reaches your ear.

“What the actual fuck, Jeon?” He must hear the madness in your voice, both the anger and the hysteria. There’s a pause during which he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t make a sound and you even check your screen to make sure he hasn’t hung up on you.

“That’s- not- the reaction I expected.” He sounds sheepish. Mumbled words, lisped syllables, long pauses.

“What did you expect?” You yell a bit, you can just picture him, dragging the phone out of earshot and winding, the same way you do when your mom who doesn’t get the concept of telephone screams in it each time she calls you. The realization hits you, that in your quiet little apartment, in this (for once) quiet morning, you are screeching like a banshee. You quiet down instantly, some of the anger soothed down by embarrassment. “Are you insane?” You whisper in his ear and comically, he starts whispering too, with the same alterations to his usually bright and open tone.

“M’not. I just- you said that’s what you wanted so I got it for you.”

Now he’s making stuff up and blaming this insanity on you and that serves to raise a bit more the bar of anger -along with the loudness of your voice, “When have I ever said that I wanted a-“ You choke on your own saliva once your brain realizes that you’re supposed to say the word, out loud, to him. In an angry whisper, as if someone, your mother, for example, could be listening “fucking dildo!” You blush furiously at that and it’s ridiculous. Probably the reason why you didn’t own one in the first place and maybe shouldn’t yet. Because you’re a grown-ass woman of a quarter of a century, living alone and admittedly independent and responsible for your own existence, but you can’t even say the word “dildo” out loud to this asshole of a friend who apparently, and that’s new news, doesn’t have an issue talking about sex and everything related to it with you.

“Y-you said-“ There’s a pregnant pause. You can’t know for sure since you’re not seeing him if he’s faking it or not but he sounds confused as hell. Like he genuinely doesn’t understand what’s wrong. Moron. “You said you wanted sex but not a boyfriend so I thought- it’s pretty much- it’s exactly what it is. Why are you so mad?”

The question in itself serves to drag you a little further over the edge. So much so, it clogs your brain with anguish and leaves you unable to give him an answer.

When he’s starting to talk again, maybe ask again his question, you just hung up, slamming your phone down on the carpet.

You hear it vibrate to life twice before it shuts down completely. Good. At least he knows you well enough, still, to assume rightfully so that you won’t pick up his calls anymore. Not today.

You just have the time to pack the dildo back in its bag and inside its box, throw away your tea that tastes unbearably bitter and maniacally scrub your face in an attempt to get rid of the red patches that don’t want to fucking leave before the telling high beeps of your front door’s digital lock alert you. Your face is soaking in cold water, another attempt to cool it, your face and your troubled mind.

You mean to ignore him. Dipping your head further in the filled up sink, closing your eyes tight shut hoping somehow it’ll help you push aside the calls of your name better.

For a few seconds, it works. You can’t hear him anymore. You wonder if the furious pleas you were chanting in your head could have been loud enough to make the sound of the door slamming behind him as he would have left, completely quiet.

He’s such a try-hard. You hung up on him because he’s saying batshit crazy things and his first reflex is to barge in your house again. You really need to change your lock and not tell him. You can do that. You’re an adult and you have the right to your own fucking place. It’s not a fucking benevolent stay in, for fuck's sake.

The cold water really seems to work. You feel better, light-headed, coming down after the earlier hysteria. And knowing that he’s left and won’t pursue this mess any further, for now, surely helps a lot.

Except it doesn’t last for, as soon as your face leaves the water, your hands reaching clumsily for a towel that falls magically in them, one wipe at your eyes and your worst nightmare is standing right in front of you.

“Fucking- Jungkook!” Burying your face back in the towel, drying your face as much as possible, maybe even trying for a second to suffocate yourself, you wish vainly that when you’ll take it off he would have disappeared.

He is still here though. Watching with dark eyes and a straight severe line replacing the cute button he owns for a mouth, he looks awfully serious for a guy that’s never really serious. Your towel ends up centimetres away from his face, he catches it right before it touches him. You hoped it would blind and confuse him momentarily, long enough for you to escape but of course, this guy would never miss a shot, even a surprise one.

“Why are you like this?” He asks when you try and push him from the ribs, out of the door frame. You hate that you think about it. About his chest being so hard and warm and his fucking smell of sweat that you’d recognize amongst any others (pretty easily as any other makes you gag and this one, probably because you’re a primary animal guided by hormones, leaves you dizzy and wanting). He doesn’t budge until he decides to, mercilessly stepping aside to let you through. Because you’re an idiot, you don’t think and head for the living room and it’s only once you’re there, very aware of his steps following you, that the devilish object of your discord is right fucking there, obnoxiously sitting on the middle of your coffee table. You groan and squeeze your eyes tight.

What meditation technique, an extra effective one, could you use right now before you definitely lose it and throw yourself out the window?

Before you find one, you end up clinging to the opposite wall, forehead pressed to it, back to him, in a vain attempt to suppress yourself from the situation. You might look a little insane or at best, somehow on edge, but who cares at this point?

“Jungkook, if I don’t pick up your call, do you think I want to see your face?”

“But why though?” His tone is still harsher than usual. You notice it and you notice you don’t hate it either. What a little bitch you are. If you like his usual self, with the bright smile, soft words, boisterous laugh, dainty manners, you can’t deny that this rougher version of him, genuinely pissed off as you’ve never seen him, tickles your fancy. You’re fucked. “Seriously these days you- you’re such-“

“I’m what?” You bark, swirling on your feet, expression distorted by an offence he hasn’t even made yet. You completed the sentence he’s never finished with terrible words that you’ve never heard him use talking about anyone: bitch, hysterical, cunt.

“You’re trying to pick a fight with me all the fucking time, I don’t get it!”

Now you feel terrible. You’re still bothered by the raw edges of his tone, it’s literally sending electric shocks to your lower tummy. But his eyebrows have dropped and his fiery dark eyes have turned shiny and sad, your heart hurts in your bosom.

Ugh.

You’re such a bitch.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m insufferable. I’m on my period. Sorry.” You send a mental apology to womanhood. You're just an idiot lacking imagination.

Jungkook frowns, his eyebrows dancing in all kind of ways, before they settle for an, unfortunately for you, attractive finale, one straight down, one tilt up. He stares at you, dubious.

“For three weeks. You’ve been on your period for three weeks.”

The first thing you take notes of is the fact that he dated it way shorter than you would have. Honestly, you found yourself becoming a weirdo with inappropriate feelings that reindeer you into an asshole for at least a month and a half. Before that, it was extremely tamed, totally under control. You’d just notice his handsome face and cute smiles and nice smell, thinking “oh yeah that’s right. He’s kinda attractive. How funny I never really noticed.” And slowly it progressed to not being able to handle him touching you without having something close to a panic attack.

The second thing you note is that he doesn’t believe you. His stare is insistent, turns a bit dark as he lingers, studying your own eyes with judgment in his. He’s frowning even more, looks down at the floor and sighs so deep, heartbreakingly so. He looks hurt that you’re lying and don’t want to share what's really been up with you. If only you could be a better liar.

“It happens sometimes, all women are diff-“

He just sat down on your sofa, eyes fixed on the blue box. Before you can finish your sentence, he sends you a glare that awfully looks like a threat. You shut up. He doesn’t believe you anyway. He knows you and your periods (sort of) way too well. He knows you’re in pain the first day, you’re a bit tender on the following ones and he takes it upon himself to be gentler and not try to play WWE with you on those but you don’t turn into a mean dragon. This much he knows for sure.

There’s something he’s seeking for within the box. He’s grabbed it, holds it now in between his fingertips, piercing virtual holes into it. It’s probably the answer he didn’t find in your eyes.

It makes you flush furiously. Seeing his pretty hands with his long fingers touching it. Here’s the reason, he would have caught it on your cheeks if he wasn’t so busy looking for it elsewhere.

“I really thought that- you’d like it.” He sounds so saddened. You’re caught off guard. Again. So this present wasn’t meant to be a joke. It is a genuine one. It makes sense that he’s hurt then. You’re shitting all over his gift but how could you not? How could he believe that you could just accept that for a random gift? Slowly he makes the top of the box slide up, pout sucked in in concentration, dimple out. Your heart seems to stop at that. He’s not going to take it out, is he?

He can’t take it in his hands.

You’ll die if he takes it in his hands.

Fortunately, he just opens the box, looks at the satin bag, looks at it with a pained expression as if he feels bad for the thing, then closes it back.

“The woman at the shop said that it’s one of the best ones, for starters.” He sulks like a child. Bottom lip all plumped out, shiny eyes under curved eyebrows.

Jungkook looks up at you, ultimate sad puppy look on.

“She said the size and the texture were perfect if you’ve never used one before. It wouldn’t be too... what was that again?” He asks aloud as if you’d know. And you’re mortified. On behalf of him. The concept that he’s not embarrassed right now and that he went to an actual shop, browsed through the shelves and asked an actual saleswoman for help is absolutely insane. Unbelievable if it were not for the sincerity he’s dipped in. “And I picked blue because I know you like this colour. It matches your planner, doesn’t it?” He adds as if he’s not sure when obviously he knows.

It is surprisingly very close in shade. And so what? He expected you to love it so much, take fucking aesthetic pictures with it and your planner sitting on your fake marble desktop, next to Diego the succulent? What an idiot. And for how fucking long did he talk to that woman?

Silence hangs heavy between you. You watch as he scowls some more, mumbles under his breath while staring with despair at the box.

Slowly, resolute to be the better friend you have not successfully been these past weeks (months), you leave your protecting wall. Taking a seat on the carpet, on the opposite side of the table, you do your best to ignore the blue patch invading the bottom of your vision and try to give him the softest expression you can come up with at this moment.

“Why are you so butthurt?”

His curiously perfect round eyes raise in a swift motion, pouty lips agape in a silent little gasp.

“Sorry.” You apologize before he even gets to respond because, maybe, you could try harder to be good and nice to him.

“Because it’s a present.” He starts at a very slow pace. He pauses between words like he’s addressing a dim, dim brain. And he might be honestly. But he’s one to talk. How can he not see an issue? “That I’ve looked for and bought for you. That’s why I’m butthurt, what do you mean?”

“But- since when are we buying each other-“ You need to grow up. There’s no one else but him hearing you and since your last conversation about it, when he too was embarrassed, he’s able to say it just fine apparently. Still, you whisper the following, “sex toys?”

“Since you turned twenty-five and said you were interested in it.” His right-hand raises from the box to start flapping the air and you know it means bad news. He’s upset. When he needs his hands to further accompany his speech, it means he’s a bit too taken by the conversation. And in this case, you don’t feel like it’s a good idea for him to be. “When you were fourteen and into Legos, I bought you a set of Legos.”

Hardly makes sense.

“You’re just going to pretend it’s a random present?”

“It’s not random. I put thought into it.” His eyes are digging up intensively in your own. It might be desperation that leads you to remain still, allow him to look. Hopefully, he won’t dig deep enough to find stuff he shouldn’t. “Why do you hate it? I thought- I don’t know- you’re a- flourished single woman and-“

Flourished? Really? The words don’t come out of your mouth but he reads them on your face and an adorable smile cracks open the mask of gravity.

“Jungkook.” You owe him an effort. Maybe you should look into why it requires an act of inhuman courage for you to admit your shame. It might be because if he were anyone else, you’d be embarrassed by the present for five seconds because clearly, you’re still half of a fucking child but soon enough, you’d probably be enchanted by the thing. Who doesn’t need a good sex toy? You definitely do. You thought about getting one for a long while but never got to it for some reasons and here’s one offered to you (in a very pretty shade of baby blue).

The thing is you don’t think about anyone sexually except for him (and his friend Jimin, once in a while, just by curiosity because the guy is a very sexual being). If you don’t even consider them in this light, you don’t have to think about them using it, do you? But he’s all you think about, unfortunately. And you’re friends. And it feels like one step closer to your fantasy while simultaneously one step closer to betrayal. And he certainly is not offering you this wishing for you to keep close in mind the fact that this is his. His present. He knows about it. Maybe can think of you using it and liking it without any further implications. Because obviously, it’s not like that for him. “It's awkward. How can you not see that.”

“Is it? What is?”

“First of all, we don’t- we- don’t even talk about... it. And suddenly you’re buying me- this?”

“Yeah, I realized that too!” It’s too much enthusiasm. Eyes too big and hands not leaving the air. You can already guess his next sentence. It’s probably going to be a terrible suggestion. “I talk about sex all the time with the guys,” Your eyebrows jump to your hairline at that. You’re not even that surprised but the formulation could probably be fixed. “and you talk about it with your girls, right? But we’ve known each other the longest and we never talk about it. Isn’t it fucked up?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘fucked up’-”

“Well, I would. I am.”

“Don’t you- don’t you see that you’re a boy and coincidentally you can easily talk about it with the guys who happen to be boys and I am a girl, right? And I-“ Who would have thought? It took you fifteen years to finally be giving him the beginning of the talk about the birds and the bees. You would have given it to him sooner if you’d have known how far behind he’s been.

“But what if I need girl advice-“

“I’m sure Jimin knows a whole lot about girls, Jeon.”

“From a girl point of view. Real girl advice.”

“Jungkook-“

“If I ask what the G spot exactly feels like, what-“

“Jungkook!”

He’s amused, the fucker. He’s not as clueless as he sounds. But the crooked grin on his face is too telling. He might just be messing with you. Usually, when he’s just playing he wouldn’t insist so much, he wouldn’t take the conversation this far so surely, there are some genuine intentions. However, he's still having way too much fun.

With his frowned nose, and squinting shiny orbs and stupid bunny teeth.

“You’re just embarrassed, aren’t you?” You might have terribly loud red streaks painting your cheeks that you try naively to cover with your hands. He can see it all and silently, he nods his head, looking like he’s reached the final touch of his experiment. “How? What happened to the teenage girl who spent her nights writing dirty stories about Harry Styles?”

Horror.

How the fuck-

“How the fuck do you know about that?”

“You showed me!” He defends, hands high above in the air like a soccer player claiming innocence. “You did! You don’t remember?” No, you don’t. But you can tell he’s not lying. Apparently, young you was quite the fearless bitch.

What happened indeed?

Years happened. A growing sense of self-preservation along with them. Undesired feelings for an idiot with a bunny smile. An inappropriate sense of shame along with those.

“Anyway. So it’s a bribe for girl advice?” You ask, chin pointing to the box. Jungkook looks down on it, drums his fingertips lightly on the top before he looks up, beaming.

“Sort of.” Shrugging, he adds with a shifty eye that telltales a certain vulnerable sincerity. “I just wish for us to be able to share everything. Be comfortable like before.”

“Before what?” He stares for a long time, mouth shut. He then blinks the moment away and for the first time, you might believe ever, Jungkook looks like he might have a secret too.

“Just before. Back in the days, I mean.” He simply explains. His attention is back on the stupid box. He’s staring at the rose on top of it. Fingers playing with the corner of it.

“Back in your old days.”

“You’re older than me. So you really don’t want it?” Here he comes again with the sad puppy face. Why would it be breaking his dumb little heart to refuse a dildo from him? What kind of insane parallel universe is this? “Is it like a 'men are fine but little Jeon Jungkookie still has cooties so I can’t accept his present, it’s gross'?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh.” Defeated, he sighs. Another one of those soul-harming sighs. “Fine. I’ll get it refunded and you’ll buy yourself something else with the money then.”

Is he really going to make you do that?

As if the question is even to be raised. He can make you do anything.

“No, Guk, sorry. It’s fine. Sorry.” You start, hands clasping over the box you drag your side of the table. The only way you can do it is if you don’t actively think about what’s inside. “I’ll keep it. Sorry.”

“So you kind of want it?” He is grinning from one ear to the other. You can feel him giddy and excited, kind of jumpy on his seat and really, you don’t see any difference with the excitement he portrays each time he gets you any kind of presents and you tell him that you like it.

“I won’t use it.” It’s almost a threat. Eyes squinted in severe slits, index finger millimetres away from poking his eye. “It’s a gift so I won’t make you get a refund, that’s rude but- I won’t use it.” After a second of seemingly deep reflection, he breaks out in his loud, annoying boyish laughter. Eyes watery at the corners and hands clapping like a stupid seal. “I’m serious!”

“Sure.” He’s still cackling, the idiot. “But you should. The lady said it’s a best seller too.”

“Great. I don’t care.”

He has his eyebrows high, a twitch in his wide grin, and the amused black orbs. He doesn’t believe you one bit. “Course, you don’t.”

The idea that he sincerely expects you to use it might drive your delusional brain for a loop. He just wants to be the best gift-giver, the best Santa, and wants you to make good use of whatever he's got you. But how can he not consider that you could not use something like that, to pleasure yourself, when it’s directly related to him, your best friend? It’s weird as hell. It can’t be just weird to you.

Unfortunately, there’s no one you can come up with the question to have them agree with you. You already know what the girls will say. They’re even worse than you when it comes to Jeon Jungkook and your ambiguous (on your side solely) friendship. They’ll say the ship is sailed and start buying themselves bridesmaid matching dresses.

They don’t understand. It’s not like they’ve grown up with someone like him. Someone rather simple, authentic and kind, so much so, so much more than most people, that it turns him complicated because so different from other humans you can meet. There’s nothing to be read in between the lines with him. It’s always lovingly honest, blatant, generous.

He doesn’t mean anything else behind the gift besides a “have a good one!”.

And you didn’t mean anything else but the truth when you said you wouldn’t use it.

At the moment, anyway, you meant it.

A/N: hoping it makes sense and is not too raw, edited it at midnight TT; may i manifest a sugar daddy that would pay me to stay home and write fanfiction for you guys all day :). i really hope you like it, and hope also that you can handle the secondhand embarrassement because even i struggled. let me know what you think of the series so far, sending everyone reading this an infinite amount of virtual kisses and hugs, take care of yourself, love yourself and others a lot, BYEE.

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studyvibes · 3 years

Text

Another new translation of Maneskin interview

I planned on translating the interview last week, but the day I was free the whole area where I lived had an issue with the WiFi, so through out the week, when I had a bit of free time I translated the interviewer piece by piece.

The translation is of this video: https://youtu.be/4Meslb_X9Fg

youtube

I thought it was best to include the video of the interview because there are videos and images relevant to their answers.

So this interview is by the VK which is basically like Russian Facebook.

In the original video the host speaks in Russian and Maneskin reply in Italian with Russian subtitles shown.

(Text which is bold and in brackets during the translation are some notes I added, to add come context)

Interviewer: For the first time, Maneskin is visiting Moscow, who are the winners of Eurovision. And today we are welcoming them in our studio. Guys, hello. (If you translate exact its: Guys, big hello to you)

Maneskin: Thank you very much

[0:17] Interviewer: The site Kontakte is one of the biggest sites in Russia and also one of the biggest music platforms in Russia, where people listen to your music. In our top charts of most listened songs you are one of the very few international musicians/bands that are included in the chart. In general the chart includes mostly songs in Russian language, so this shows how very popular you are in our country.

Maneskin: That’s very nice!

Interviewer: Please tell me - your international success just happened in 3 months: charts in Russia, charts in Billboard, I think this is the first time ever since ABBA that a musician/band became famous even in America after Eurovision. How did your life change in this span of 3 months?

Damiano: yeah there was a big difference/change.

Damiano: We could say that it was sudden and how we saw everything explode after Eurovision, but we are very happy

Damiano: Ofcourse this means a lot of work is expected because everything that we did before for Italy, we do now around the world. But we are very happy: this what we wanted and why we worked so hard -we are very, very happy/lucky.

[1:30]Interviewer: Going back to Eurovision, I was present at backstage and at the final, sharing happiness about your winning. I’d like to ask, did you know and how did you react to the fact that all artist for the past two weeks were saying that you were the obvious winners, even though the genre of your performance is a complete contrast to most competitor’s songs. How confident were you.

Interviewer: To solidify my words (about being at Eurovision) I have a photo *shows a photo on iPad of Interviewer and Maneskin on the night they won Eurovision*

Maneskin: oh it was you!

Victoria: We weren’t exactly confident. When we went to Eurovision, we thought only about being able to carry our music to a very wide auditorium, but we didn’t expect that we would be able to win - especially with the type of genre we play and sing in Italian - it is not something that appears often in this competition

Thomas: Yeah, that’s true, it was very unexpected and even the people - in Eurovision - were saying “You will win, you will win” - of course to us it was nice, but we completely didn’t expect it. And same with what happened after.

Ethan: (he said something, but they didn’t add a translation to what he said)

[2:45] Interviewer: I’d like to say a few words about our Manizha - Russian Woman (she represented Russia in Eurovision 2021) - were you able to meet her and chat with her? And are you planning to see her in Moscow

Victoria: yes yes, she even sang an Italian song

Damiano: it was something “Ti amo, ti amo”

Thomas: No, no, no, not that one!

Damiano: “Felicità”?

Thomas: No, no. I don’t remember.

Interviewer: (I didn’t hear him but I think he agreed with Damiano)

Maneskin: “Felicità”, yes, “Felicità”!

Damiano: They even sang in multiple voices! (Manizha had back singers with her, who joined her for Eurovision)

Interviewer: So after you won Eurovision, you were congratulated by Eros Ramazzotti, Royal Blood, and Franz Ferdinand. Which congratulation towards you was unusual and unexpected? And what did it mean to you

Victoria: Probably the big groups, which we always listen to, which always inspired us. It was also really nice, already the fact, that they talk about us - it was unbelievable. And because, of course, for us it was very important, that they liked us/valued us. And what most wild/unusual out of is that we got to collaborate with Iggy Pop.

Rest of Maneskin: *agreeing with Victoria’s answer*

Victoria: He is one of our main idols, he is one of the people who created/established punk-rock.

Thomas: Yes, of course, support from big musicians, from people who we listened to from the very start - it’s really wonderful and important/valuable recognition

Interviewer: tell us about your work with Iggy Pop. How did it happen, did he contact you or you were able to reach out to him?

Victoria: We were always huge fans of him. And when everything so well, he saw who we were and what type of music we have, and we asked him, if he would’ve want to produce something together. He said, that he really likes the song “I wanna be your slave.” and wanted to make a collaboration.

Interviewer: I saw that Miley Cyrus made a repost video of where you are performing a cover of her song and said you are her friends. Is there a possible collab with Miley?

Maneskin: Anything is possible.

Damiano: (in English) Who knows

Interviewer: with who would you want to collab?

Victoria: with many, with many! Arctic Monkeys, Foo Fighters, I don’t know.. with so many!

Interviewer: An interesting thing - the group BTS became the symbol of South Korea, making kpop genre popular. You are becoming...you became, the symbol of Italy. Do you feel any responsibility and are you planning on promoting Italian language/ making Italian language popular?

Damiano: We are thinking about making our music, and if our country will choose us to be their representatives, we would be happy. But no, we don’t feel this responsibility, we are thinking of own work/ business.

Interviewer: I can’t not ask very important question which is interesting for the fans - are you preparing an album, can you share some hints/ secrets? Because everyone is waiting for it. And the fact that in one of your songs which was released years back reached the top world wide charts, now we all can’t wait.

Victoria: Its all secret!

Damiano: We can say, that we are preparing new music - this is the secret which we can reveal.

Thomas: Yeah, and we are trying to find time, to write, to work on music. Certainly/undoubtedly, you can expect multiple surprises.

Interviewer: you are a unique group - from the point that your centre/focus is towards all of the members, which is different to other bands where bands are seen as the frontman and the rest of musicians. But each member of your group is seen a big celebrity. Did this happen accidentally or is this the concept you made, and how does your friendship help you with you work?

Damiano: We always tries to avoid the stereotypes of bands/groups, where only the vocalist is recognized/known. We always tried to push not only the group as whole, but also the 4 individuals of the group. And this is probably also happens because of our close friendship. Luckily, nobody feels like they are in the shadows pushed by others.

[7:38] Interviewer: It’s really cool that you change/ remove the stereotypes and create new trends.

Maneskin: We try, We try. We carry our little contribution.

Interviewer: Damiano, I would like to ask you personally a question - from what I am aware of, at the start, the band didn’t accept you into the band, something didn’t work out, could you please tell us in more detail?

*Maneskin laughing at Damiano*

Victoria: He became older, and his voice became magically/suddenly different!

Interviewer: what I understood was that it happened was because you originally sang more pop music, not rock with the band.

Damiano: In reality/to be honest, nothing changed, I stayed pop. Let’s say, I grew, and my voice changed, and I started to sound more earnest/persuasive.

[8:22] Interviewer: How did the band form? You first place of performance was at the street of Rome?

Maneskin: Yes, we started to play in school

Victoria: and since then everything went with the flow. We started to play on the streets, at small establishments, at school - anywhere where we could have an opportunity to perform

Interviewer: what was the hardest in those performances?

Thomas: To find a place where we can perform

Victoria: Yes, exactly, where to perform. And later, it was very small establishments and the audience at the start didn’t take us too seriously. But together as a band we supported each other - in the end, it was our dream, we even liked to perform in front of just a few people, which is why we continued.

Thomas: Exactly, yes. At the start we sometimes performed to an auditorium with a few people, but even then you had to stay convincing/conclusive. Over some period of time, in the crowd, people start to appear who valued our music, what we did. But for me, it was probably, the main challenge was to see, play, perform well and stay yourself in front of 2 or 3 people.

Ethan: Yes, there were times when we performed in front of an audience in which there were only parents. We gave out the same level and the same energy.

Interviewer: I think it is common thing to happen when a musician/ band performs at private party, where Russian musicians performed for one person in the hall.

Maneskin: oh this is something very very private

Interviewer: I think I’ll get in trouble for telling you this, but Little Big told me this story.

*Maneskin recognizing the bands name*

Maneskin: Aaa, Yes!

Interviewer: Ed Sheehan, in his time, took a challenge, he also started from street performing, to make 300 performance in a year. Are you ready to start your world tour and to perform nearly every day?

Thomas: Of course, definitely. The other way it won’t happen.

[10:25] Interviewer: I’d also like to know/ask, if you often spend your time together, as friends, if you have any common hobbies, and what do you do as a break/rest?

Victoria: We practically don’t have any life outside the frame of music, we spend all our time in work. But when we do find spare time, we just go somewhere to relax and have fun.

Interviewer: What simple tip/advise would you give to young musicians which at the moment are street performing but dream to perform in big stadiums?

Victoria: I think, you should continued with your journey and don’t change due to other people’s opinions.

Ethan: Yes, that right. Be always yourself.

Interviewer: your time of fame happened in Italy a few years ago from the show X Factor when you performed the cover from the band the Four seasons on their song “Beggin”. Did you expect that your cover would become a world hit in a few years? And a lot of people associate the song more with you (like more than the original band)

Ethan: Yeah. It’s.... weird!

[11:33] Interviewer: I’d like to show you an interesting photo. The photo illustrates when it was the last time Russia saw Italians. It’s a movie from the year 1974 which is called “the unbelievable journey of Italians in Russsia” do you see any similarity?

*at [11:48] you can see the image of four people: on the left two men happily hugging each other, in the centre a woman, and on the right a tired looking man*

Maneskin: Nooooo *laughing*

Ethan: Wow (the exact words that were written in subtitles were “Да ты что!” Which in Russian is used as an expression of surprise )

Ethan and Thomas point at which person they think they are in the left

Ethan: I am the one in the left

Interviewer: This is actually a very popular Soviet comedy and the movie is about Italians which travelled to Russia in search of treasure, which left was by one of the main character’s grandmother. I would like to know after which treasure did you go after in Russia?

Victoria: I think, our fans, possibly perform, and play in concerts. All the love and affection.

Interviewer: It would be nice if you could watch the movie, maybe during your flight, and share your opinion on social media.

Ethan: ok, will do.

Interviewer: I’d also like to show you a very popular video which was spreading in Russia. Where it was comparing your lyrics from “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE” and lyrics from a Russian musician Alla Pugacheva. Both songs have same repeating words: “master” and “gangster”

Maneskin: (idk who said it) I saw it in Tiktok

Interviewer: just in case, I’ll show you the video

*[11:58] shows the video which interviewer talked about*

Thomas: You already saw it.

Interviewer: Your Russian fans, went further, started to look for famous Russian performers who wore similar outfits that you wear. But it turned out that all the similar outfits were worn by on person, his name is Valery Leontiev. I’d like to show you the pictures to show you just how similar his outfits are.

*[13:35] you can see the image comparisons, in the background you can hear Damiano laughing and say “no no”*

Thomas or Ethan: Unbelievable! This is crazy, this isn’t possible.

Interviewer: Yes the similarities are on point/ are exact.

Interviewer: I’d like to conclude the interviewer with genuine admiration because for the past 3 months you exploded the whole music industry, which didn’t happen for ages. And to be honest, it is true what you said about saving your authenticity and believe in yourself. We are very proud of you, Russians love Italians (ik that a lot of old Italian movies and songs are very popular in Russia). Please continue to grow and make wonderful music.

Maneskin: Thank, thank you very much.

————————————-

Hopefully you enjoyed the interview and the translations made sense

#my post #my translation #Maneskin #maneskin victoria #maneskin ethan #maneskin thomas #maneskin damiano #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #ethan torchio #damiano david #Youtube

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thickenmyblood · 3 years

Note

hey maca :)) I have sth that I’d love to hear your input on! (wall of text incoming so beware- I’m absolutely not mad if you don’t want to answer lmao). Basically it’s about how you portray women in your works and to what extent you see that portrayal mirrored in the canon books. I have noticed that a lot of writers tend to go a traditional route with for example daughters not being heirs like you also mentioned in an answer for a wtsioa ask on here. Considering the cultures Vere and Akielos are based on that’s obviously very logical and a lot of authors (including you) make it work fantastically! Yet personally I never got the vibe of Vere and Akielos being as patriarchal in canon, mostly because the Information we get is kind of confusing. On one hand damen is a walking manosphere (and. all of Akielos in general as well) without any prominent female figures in his life but on the other hand damen only ever speaks appreciatively of for example the female vaskian warriors. Both countries seem to ban women from the army yet Damen also refers to a warrior queen. The regent is a total misogynist but with the wording Laurent uses it almost seems like that is more the exception and not the general rule of veretian court life. Both countries also have ties to Vask, an exclusive matriarchy and Akielos is said to be similar to Patras which Pacat has stated is also partly a strong matriarchy due to vaskian occupations in the past. I could go on for a lot longer but I guess that damens overall positive attitude towards women and especially stereotypically spoken masculine women is what sticks out the most to me. It just seems kind of misplaced in a world that supposedly is as sexist as the original cultures from our world. Which is why I’d say both countries do have gender roles but are overall a lot more egalitarian than their respective real world og cultures. But that’s only my take and I’d love to hear more on what others think about the portrayal of women in canon and how they chose to portray it in fanfiction. Love you and your new work, hope you’re doing well❤️

HELLO!!! Thank you for asking me interesting stuff :, ) you always have the best questions and my sad little inbox is open to you any time, friend. I divided this into parts, so:

My portrayal of women: I need to work on this a lot lmao. I’m not proud of any female character I have ever written for this fandom, and I’m also not proud to say I struggle horribly when it comes to writing female OCs, especially if the story is not about a female character that is a literal projection of me. Or Bella Swan (yes, Twilight literally shaped my sad little brain and the way I write and consume fiction).

Authors writing female characters in a “traditional” way (for fantasy settings): I can’t speak for other authors but I definitely think, in my case, that using the “it’s a patriarchal society, women have no rights, women can’t be heirs, etc.” blueprint is a matter of being lazy. It’s quick, and easy, and it’s been done before so we all know how it works and a) it’s unlikely that you’ll mess it up (in the plot hole kind of way) and b) it’s obvious that most readers know how the usual system works and so you don’t have to spend paragraphs or even chapters explaining it to them. I am very lazy when it comes to world-building for fics. Why? Because when I’m writing fanfiction I don’t give two shits about the world, I just care about the characters doing Things and having Feelings. The moment you start to question these issues (a society where women can join the army, where they can be heirs, where maybe they can have multiple husbands, etc.) a billion issues arise because it’s not the “usual way” and so you’ll have to deal with “unusual problems”. See: plot holes, info-dumping, etc.

Vere and Akielos in canon: I think the books get very, very confusing at times when it comes to gender roles in that specific world. They also get very confusing about how royalty works, in my opinion. So:

Damen never mentions female influences in his life, not even nannies or wetnurses or anything. He mentions past queens and his mother, but even then… It’s always struck me as “what the actual fuck” that we get no information on Egeria. In TSP, he doesn’t even read as curious to me, especially when I think of that line that goes something like “oh, well, he’d never asked how tall she was”.

Then you have Jokaste, who is highborn and also… perhaps trained in politics? It’s unclear to me if she’s ever been directly involved in meetings or been an active member of the Council or even been allowed to study these issues. Clearly, she’s smart and capable and cunning, but like… how? Did she have private tutors? Is she a self-made woman? Like, what’s up with that? Are women allowed to engage in public politics? Are they allowed to be kyroi?

IMO, Damen complimenting the female warriors in Vask has to do with how appreciative he is of war-related stuff. Like, he thinks people with his own qualities are neat. We see this time and time again in the books—having honor, being brave, respecting one’s family, protecting those who need protecting… He compliments these things when he sees them in others, especially in Laurent. Obviously one of the big changes in Damen as a character is that he goes from being daddy’s boy to being like “well, actually… maybe war isn’t always the answer, and maybe war isn’t always honorable”. The Vaskian warriors prove themselves worthy of praise in a “manly” way, if that makes sense. (In the same way, Laurent proves himself in the Okton, not so much to Damen but to other Akielons). So, in essence, War > Any issues he may have about women doing Stuff.

Don’t judge me for this but I can’t remember the Regent talking about women. Do you have any quotes about that? I feel like Book 1 is super rich when it comes to world-building stuff and yet it’s the book I remember the least. I know he obviously has a preference for boys and not girls, but I don’t recall him having interactions with Vannes or ladies at court? I’M SORRY I’M SO STUPID but I don’t own the book so I can’t exactly word search my way out of this one, and so instead of saying stupid stuff, I’m asking anyone reading this (lol, you and my mom probably) to please tell me what canon says on this issue.

Ties to Vask: Er, yeah, I mean… They’re clearly not at war with Vask and have some sort of economic deal (there are Vaskian pets in Arles? Which makes me wonder if they, like, buy them from Vask? Or if the pets are Vaskian and turn into pets in Vere? Slaves are not like pets so I don’t know?), BUT just because they have deals with this kingdom/are on good terms with the ruler does not mean they necessarily approve? Like, maybe they’re like “yeah, it’s weird they give women so much power, but also I need that silk/leather/WHATEVER, so I’ll shut up about that”.

“Akielos is said to be similar to Patras which Pacat has stated is also partly a strong matriarchy due to Vaskian occupations in the past.” Is this in the books or is this something she said in an interview/post-releasing the trilogy? I know in the books there’s a quote that Akielos and Patras are similar because they both have slaves, but other than that I can’t quite remember anything about Patras? Like, I don’t recall Pacat giving us extensive and thorough world-building on either nation, at all. Once again, I am asking you for more explanations on this because I literally don’t remember.

4. My opinion and a Stupidity Disclaimer: As I’ve said above, there’s a lot of stuff I don’t remember and so I’m not trying to preach to anyone reading this or even saying that I hold the truth about… anything. I’m answering questions as I see fit and asking more questions when I run out of answers.

I believe world-building is not one of Captive Prince’s strong points. I will not elaborate on this because this is already long enough but there is simply, in my opinion, not enough material to reach any solid conclusions when it comes to world-building questions such as the role of women in Vere and Akielos, how compulsory homosexuality affects the development of highborn men and women in Vere, exactly what makes Akielos’ view on women different from Vere’s (if there’s any difference at all), the history of gender roles in this world and how it’s evolved up until canon, how Lamen can solve the heir issue without recurring to, once again, “the usual stuff” (concubines, bastards, marriage to women, etc.). It’s clear from what I’ve read that Pacat has come a long way as a writer and that her new trilogy has a lot more in-depth explanations to world-building questions, but this is not the case with CP, and so I’m afraid my answer to most of this is “I don’t know, and I don’t think anyone can know for sure”.

Lastly, I think I struggle a lot with understanding the role of women in this universe because I simply did not see enough women doing stuff, so I don’t know what’s permitted, what’s unacceptable, what’s illegal, what is straight-up execution worthy, etc. This is not me complaining about the lack of female characters in CP, at all, which I know is contradictory to stuff I’ve said in the past (I answered a couple asks a year ago about how I’d wished we’d gotten Vannes’ POV or Jokaste’s POV in the short stories). I’ve changed my mind, and so I think Pacat is entitled to write whatever she wants, just like I’m entitled to talk shit about KR with any living soul who will listen lmao.

To end this on a spicy note, I think sometimes we consume the wrong media and then complain because it doesn’t have what we wanted. If you’re looking for a trilogy with strong, fleshed-out female characters, Captive Prince is not for you. If you’re looking for a trilogy on female struggles and, I don’t know, defying… the male gaze… Captive Prince is not for you. There are plenty of books out there that focus exclusively on female characters, featuring sapphic relationships, and dealing with gender issues. WHICH IS NOT TO SAY WE SHOULDN’T BE HAVING THESE DISCUSSIONS. This is not about this particular question, but more about a lot of posts I’ve seen floating around… complaining about Pacat’s writing and the themes she didn’t explore.

If anyone has made it this far, thank you for reading, and know this is NOT me telling you what to think. This post is an open question that anyone can engage with, although I hope people will engage with this directly and on this platform, instead of… taking it somewhere else where I sadly can’t engage back! Unlike what happened with our awesome fat Laurent discussion, I will be replying to any questions I get on this (Note: I did not reply to most of those questions because a long time had passed and they were sort of repetitive).

#caramellaurent #captive prince #i'm using the main tag because i think... maybe someone has answers?#also lol melli i see what u did here... u're distracting me from writing for the bang #i see how it is #discourse #is this discourse tho?#it's just me asking stuff #discourse (questioned)

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Afterglow - Part 10

A/N: Hello! It is finally time for some more Frankie! I hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback and comments are welcome, and if you’d like to be tagged, let me know. xx 💕

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: drug and alcohol mentions;

AFTERGLOW MASTERLIST

FRANKIE MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You’d cried yourself to sleep that night, telling yourself that it was okay to wallow and be sad for now - one night. Frankie had slipped through your fingers like sand once before and you weren’t going to let him go again; at least not that easily. You were going to fight for him, to make sure that whatever was going on with him wouldn’t take over. Whether or not he was mad, or he wanted nothing to do with you anymore, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was keeping him safe and sound.

You woke up the next morning with a fierce determination; quickly cleaning up the mess from the previous night and showering and dressing. After getting breakfast for Daisy, you promised her that you’d be back soon and made the short trek over to Frankie’s house. When you got there, you noticed that his truck was gone, and the house was locked up. Huffing silently to yourself, you went around to the back and sure enough the back door was unlocked. Whether it was intentional or not, you were glad it was open.

Slipping inside, you quickly reacquainted yourself with the space, looking around the house that he had made his home. When you stepped into the kitchen, you noticed it was spotless, everything was pristine, and there was almost no hint that anyone lived there. A small sound escaped your lips as you went around and found the rest of the house to be in the same condition. Strange, you thought to yourself, he must have gone a cleaning spree.

You hesitated when you reached his bedroom, but pushed the door open and stepped in any way. It felt so odd to be there, his personal little sanctuary, but it still felt warm and comforting. His bed was made and everything was organized including his dresser and closet and the connecting bathroom. Pausing when you passed by the dresser, you picked up the picture frame, an instant smile stretching across your features when you noticed that it was a photo of you. This one you’d never seen before; it was something he’d kept this whole time and you’d never known. It was you - all curled up in a big blanket with only your head poking out from under the covers and a sleepy smile on your face, your eyes closed tightly. This whole time...this whole damn time.

Fishing your phone out of your pocket, you quickly pulled up Frankie’s contact and dialed his number, praying he would answer. But it rang and rang and rang, painstakingly so, before going to voicemail. With a sigh, you ended the call before redialing and listening to the same thing; but this time you left a quick message for him to call you as soon as he got time. Deciding that you didn’t care about how this all looked, you texted him as well.

All you could now was wait - and hope he’d call you back. There was no way he’d just cut you of his life like that again and leave, right? Right? Not again; you weren’t sure if you could handle losing Frankie Morales all over again.

»»————-　♡　————-««

But you didn’t hear back from him that day, or the next day...or the next, despite your efforts. And you were worried sick. It was starting to consume your every thought and you were wondering what to do. He hadn’t come home either, and just hoped that everything was alright.

By the fifth day, you decided enough was enough. You grabbed your purse, left Daisy at your neighbor’s house and came to the conclusion that if you wanted answers you were going to have to work for them. Frankie had told you about his job, and luckily for your sharp memory, you’d memorized where he worked and went off to see if you were able to find out if he had been at work at all.

The shop was small, but seemed friendly enough, although you were sure that you looked about as out of place as they come.

"Hello?" you called out quietly as you listened to the soft humming of a radio in the distance and the quiet news playing on the aging television set. Walking up to the counter, you sighed softly, as you rang the bell after checking to make sure no one was around, "hello?"

You heard a few shuffling sounds accompanied by footsteps as someone came to the front. After a few moments a man, a handsome one that appeared to be about your age, popped in, wiping his hands on an old rag. A look of confusion crossed his features before he offered up a small smile, "sorry about that - a little shorthanded right now. What can I do for you?"

"Umm, hi," you swallowed the lump in your throat at the mention of short handed, "I-I'm kind of here on a personal thing. Do...does Francisco - Frankie Morales work here?"

"Frankie?" he asked as you nodded, "Fish?"

"I-I don't know who that is," you frowned at the odd choice of name, "I just know Frankie. I...I haven't seen him in a few days and wanted to see if you had or if he'd come to work. Maybe I...maybe I have the wrong shop...or something, I don’t know.”

You offered up an apologetic smile before turning to leave, willing yourself not to cry. But before you reached the door, you heard it and it caused you to stop dead in your tracks, "Bee? Are you...Bee?"

"I'm sorry?" you asked as you turned around and cocked your head to the side, regarding him curiously. His smile grew as he realized exactly who you were, "no- no one's called me besides Frankie…"

"You are," he dropped the rag and stepped around the counter, coming towards you before wrapping you up in a hug, "you're Bee! Frankie - we call him Fish, Catfish! He's told us all about you over the years. Holy shit - you’re actually a real person. Here and in the flesh!”

"Oh," you were taken aback for a moment before you hugged him back, a small sigh escaping your lips as you realized this was a human connection to your love. He knew Frankie - the present Frankie, the Frankie that has been taken away from you for so long. You squeezed your eyes shut as you held him tightly. You wondered if this was as cathartic for him as it was for you.

"You look just like he always said," he pulled back and studied you, "man, he's been in love with you for so long. He said he'd finally found you again."

"Yeah," you nodded lightly as you wiped away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. This man could tell you so much about Frankie - you hoped you lived up to whatever tails Frankie had them, "its a long story….but we're neighbors now. And we had a fight a few nights ago and he's been gone and not answering my calls or texts and I'm worried…"

"You know about…" he trailed off as you nodded, feeling a heaviness settle over your heart. You made a small sound as he nodded before giving your shoulder a small squeeze, "he's been having a rough go of things."

"The first two times I saw him since I've moved in next to him he was...high. Not in good shape at all," you confessed, almost relieved that you were able to tell someone else, "I didn't know how big of a problem it was…I tried talking to him about it and we ended up fighting and he left and I haven't seen him since. I’ve been worried sick about him since he left, but I didn’t know where to begin to look so…”

“I’m glad you found me - I’m Santiago - Santi - by the way,” Santi confirmed softly as you nodded, trying to keep the tears from falling, “Frankie’s a good guy, he really is. But he’s struggling...again. I thought things were better too, but it’s obvious that he needs more help. I don’t know what it was that finally got him there, but I’m glad it did...although I have a feeling it’s you.”

“I don’t care what it is,” you admitted softly, “as long as he gets the help and support he needs. I would do anything for him.”

“You really are his girl, huh?” the man got a sappy little grin on his face as you felt a flush rise up but nodded nonetheless.

“I’ve loved him since we were kids...it never changed,” you confessed, “even if he doesn’t want me or love me anymore, I just want him to be happy and healthy.”

“He loves you,” Santi laughed, a loud boisterous thing, “trust me.”

“Do you know where he is? Can you take me to him?” you clutched onto his arm and gave him an almost desperate look, ready to beg him if you needed, “please? I need to know everything.”

“Of course,” he promised as he took your hands in his and squeezed it tightly, “come on. Let me close up shop and we can go.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie sighed as he stared out the window, looking at the rolling hills in the distance. It was dark and gray out, signaling an impending storm, something he normally loved and yet he felt...nothing. Not depressed or empty, but not filled with life either. Just...there. He knew it was most likely the symptoms of withdrawal and finally getting clean - for good - but it was still hard. He missed you - hoped you weren’t okay or panicking too much. Hell, maybe you’d forgotten about him already. Maybe it would have been better if you did…

Either way; it was seeing you again that had sparked his zest for life. All these years and it was still you. But as soon as you’d made your reappearance, it felt like everything made sense again. Like things were just...right. And it had made him question his choices; he wanted to be better, to be the best, for not just himself, but also for you. And even if it was too late to be able to love you again, he wanted to do this for myself - he had to.

“Mr. Morales?” the nurse’s voice caught his ear and he turned slightly to look at her, offering her a small smile, “you have some visitors, if you’d like.”

Visitors? How strange...nobody knew he was here besides Santi, Will, and Benny, and he’d been in somewhat regular contact with him. Maybe it was just a surprise visit from one of them.

“They can come in,” he nodded, reaching for the glass on the window sill to help soothe his parched throat. He hadn’t done much talking today, preferring some solitude instead.

“Hi Frankie,” at the sound of your voice, he turned around so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Hovering in the doorway, you gave him a nervous smile, unsure of how to gauge his surprised reaction.

“Hey Fish,” Santi popped up behind you, slowly ushering you into the room as Frankie rose to his full height.

“H-hi,” he stammered, casting a quick glance at Santi before focusing his attention on you. He wasn’t sure if he should be scared of your reaction or if he should run over and swallow you whole in his arms, “you’re both here.”

“Of course man,” Santi laughed lightly, “we’re family - always. Now, you talk to your girl and I’m going to find some coffee.”

He left without another word, leaving the two of you to awkwardly stare at each other. When he didn’t say anything, you loosened up and noticed the glossiness of his eyes. Before you could stop yourself, you rushed over to him and wrapped him up in the tightest hug possible, “Francisco, my love. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Sweet Bee,” he buried his face into the side of your head and just let you hold him, without a word, without a care - reckless abandon. Stroking his back in soothing circles, you let him get all his tears out, only whispering soft reassurances into his ear, “I’m sorry for what happened...for fighting with you.”

“No, no, no,” you pulled back and pulled his face into your hands, giving him a soft smile before wiping away the stray that had cascaded down his cheeks, “please don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for. All I care about is you. That you’re okay and safe.”

“I should have told you...”

“Maybe,” you agreed with a small laugh, trying to get him to calm down, “but it’s okay. I would have done anything to find you. Luckily I had enough sense to go to your work and find Santi.”

“He’s...a good man,” he smiled, “we've been through so much...he’s more like my brother.”

“I know,” you could easily tell that there was a strong bond between the two men, “he’s been great...but umm...Frankie - did you tell all your friends about me?”

“Yeah,” a smile - a real, genuine smile - appeared on his face as his singular dimple made its appearance, “I did. Probably from the day I met them...”

“Francisco,” you beamed at him, “all this time...”

“Always,” he answered your unspoken question, “I love you...I’m sorry if you don’t want to hear that right now, or ever, but it’s true and I wanted you to know.”

“I love you,” you repeated softly, “nothing’s ever going to change that. Not even...this. You - we - are going to get through this, Francisco. I promise you.”

“You’re....you’re staying?” he was incredulous as he pulled back and looked at you with a slightly surprised expression, “I can’t expect...I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking,” you reassured with a gentle to his freshly shaven cheek, “I’m telling you. I love you, Francisco Morales. I lost you once and I’m not going to do it again. I’m with you - always.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” he whispered as he kissed the palm of your hand?

“You took care of me the day we met - when I ran into you and fell to the ground,” you reminded him of the fateful afternoon when the two of you had met almost twenty years ago. And to believe back then you had almost been reluctant to meet him all because your companionship was thrust upon the two of you. Looking back, you couldn’t have been more thankful, “I scraped up my palm and you cleaned it up and made sure it all healed. But look…”

You held up your and slowly displayed your right palm, letting him look over it closely. In the heart of your palm a small, almost invisible scar still lingered. If someone hadn’t been paying attention they could have easily missed it - but to you and Frankie it was loud and clear.

“Still there,” he murmured as he traced over it and you nodded, trying to hold back all of your tears now, “apparently I didn’t do the best job…”

“You did,” you promised softly, “it could have been so much worse. This way, I’ll always have a memory of when we met - how we met.”

“I…" Frankie's lip trembled with effort as he did his best not to cry; he hadn't expected to feel this overwhelmed by such a simple thing, "I've missed you so much - I don't know how we found each other again, but I'm so glad we did."

"Me too," tracing over his lip with your thumb before leaning in to press a kiss to them, "having you back already kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life. I would have been married to that asshole by now."

"Bee…" he couldn't help but laugh as your passionate little ramble before pulling you back into his arms. His hold, his touch, was perfect - he was home, "I don't know what I'd do without you. I...I love you so much."

"I know, bub," you ruffled through his dark hair affectionately, "I love you too. I wouldn't be here if I didn't. Do you...do you want to talk about it? Just...us. You know I'm not going to judge, my love. I'm not here for that."

»»————-　♡　————-««

Frankie let out a large sigh as he sat down on the couch in his room with you sliding in next to him. Grabbing his large hand, you laced your fingers together as you just let him go on. You weren’t going to interrupt him or anything - this was his time and his story to tell and you were there without judgment.

“Where do I begin…” he mused as you offered up a small shrug.

“Wherever you want, Frankie,” you promised him, “I’m here listening, either way.”

“Okay,” inhaling deeply, he held his breath before letting out a long sigh, “it first started after I’d been in the military for a few years...almost fifteen years, actually. So I guess fairly recently. It wasn’t always a problem like it ended up becoming. At first it wasn’t a big deal. Something to take a little edge of after a mission, or if it all became too much or too little it was always there to help. It never seemed like a big deal at the time, it wasn’t something that I did all the time, but then it became more and more - it was never enough, I was always looking forward to that next hit or that next time. Eventually, slowly and over time it became all consuming and I couldn’t control it. That’s when…”

He paused for a moment, collecting himself and you realized just how hard it must have been for him to talk about all of this. Squeezing his hand as a sign of reassurance, silently letting him know that it was okay. It was okay for him to be so open and vulnerable to you, okay for him to be authentic self, okay for him to be who he was. Frankie gently stroked the back of your hand as he offered you a small nod.

“I...I ended up getting busted while helping with a transport,” he confessed after some moments of tense silence, “they...they didn’t know that I used on top of it all, but I got my pilot’s license suspended because of the bust. After that it was a wake up call - that I had a problem and needed to get my shit together. I was clean after that for a while...I was able to kind of kick it myself but there was always...the urges. Slowly it would happen again from time to time but never like it was used to be; that’s what I’d convinced myself because I could control myself better and it wasn’t on my mind 24/7.”

“You already did so well,” you whispered softly, “you’ve done this much, you’ll be able to get through anything. If I may ask...and stop me if you want - when did it get bad again?”

“After...funny story actually,” he laughed but it was a small, bitter thing, “a little bit after we stumbled into each other. I was so lost to the idea that you were gone forever that when Santi came to me and Benny and Will with a mission I just went. And it went fucking terrible. When we got back...what better way to cope than to turn back to what gave me some relief in the first place? So I did....and well...the rest you already know.”

“My love…” you trailed off, unsure of what to say next. You didn’t want to push him away by making it seem like you were trying to analyze him or pity him. You just wanted him to know that you loved him no matter what, and you would be there for him, “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that. No one deserves that - I can’t say that I understand exactly how you feel or anything. But I want to try to understand and I want to help you however I can. All you need to do is to tell me how I can do that, okay?”

“Thank you…” he hung his head as he nodded, letting out a few shaky breaths. Reaching over, you pulled him towards you and wrapped him back up in your arms, peppering the side of his head in gentle kisses. His strong arms wrapped around your waist and he held onto you like he was afraid you might vanish into thin air, “I know this can’t be what you expected when we were young or even a few months ago…”

“I don’t care,” you promised, rocking himself, “I told you - none of it matters. The only thing that matters to me is you.”

“Honey Bee,” he buried his face into your neck and you could feel his tears soaking into the fabric of your shirt, “I-I’m...scared. I’m scared I’m not never going to get better and never give you the Frankie you deserve.”

“Honey,” squeezing your eyes shut, you wished you could soak up all of his fears and worries, “I know it’s scary, and there will be some bad days, but there will be so, so many good days. You will get there, I promise you will. You have me every step of the way, however you need. You are my Frankie. You always will be.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you brought his face to yours, “but for now, you need to stay here until you’re ready to come home. And don’t rush it because we’ll always be there for you. We’ll wait. When you come home, Daisy and I will be right there. You are my home, Francisco. You always have been and always will be. Okay?”

“Okay,” there was a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at you like you had hung all the stars and he melted at your words, “okay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #afterglow #triple frontier

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

Text

Relentless

I choose you.

→ Pairing: KTH x oc

→ warnings/tags/genre: SFW, soulmate au, angsty, fluff, mentions of a past abusive relationship

→ word count: 5.9k

→ a/n: made it! this is the bonus chapter of the original series “Lost & Found”, which I would recommend reading before you read this because it might not make a lot of sense otherwise. Please be aware that this jumps timelines a bit, so be aware of the headings before each section.

I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you all for waiting so patiently!

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

“Take your time, Christina.”

She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

Another deep breath.

“And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

It’s been eight months since Christina has seen Taehyung’s soulmate, after firmly ordering her to find someone else to cut her thread.

“I’m not doing it,” Christina seethed. Angry, but for what? A real chance at love? Even as the thought crosses her mind, she scoffs. False hope is all that it is. “If you’re so set on ruining your life, go find someone else to help you.”

Ae remains composed, almost terrifyingly so. She stands with her arms crossed, her back to the warehouse door. She looks around at the tools lying around, no doubt trying to figure out exactly how Christina manages to sever the thread.

“Christina,” Ae mumbles softly, only making Christina want to scream even louder. “At least show me how-”

“Get out.”

“Listen for a second-”

“Ae, I’m not kidding. Get out of my warehouse. I’m not showing you anything! Just- can’t you just give him a chance?”

Ae blinks, arms falling to her sides as she laughs softly. “You think that’s what this is about? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

“I can’t do it, Christina. I can’t stand to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. That’s the only reason they were going to hire me! I didn’t-” Ae stops, rubbing her face angrily. “I didn’t even get to finish my interview. Once I was labeled as Taehyung’s soulmate, it’s like nothing even mattered anymore.”

Christina doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but she knows who does. “Talk to Jolie about it, then. She can help you, she went through the same thing.”

It should be an easy fix, right?

“Jolie, like Jimin’s soulmate?”

“I’ll call her right now, if you want. She knows better than anyone how to deal with this. Chung-hei, too.”

Ae hesitates. “That’s Namjoon’s?”

Christina arches a brow, about to say something snarky about labels, but deciding against it at the last moment. “Yeah. Just talk to them before you do anything drastic, ok?”

Once Ae agrees, Christina is pulling her phone out and sending a message to her group chat with Sunmi, Jolie, and Chung-hei. She ignores the sharp pain that goes through her when she sees that the most recent text was from Jolie, teasing her about Taehyung.

Me: I’m sending a new friend over to Jolie’s apartment. It’s an emergency meeting. Can everyone make it?

Everyone responds quickly, agreeing to meet up. Sunmi offers to swing by Christina’s apartment to pick her up, which she agrees to.

When Sunmi’s car pulls up, Christina gestures for Ae to head out.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” Ae asks. When Christina shakes her head, Ae’s eyes widen. “But, I don’t know any of these people.”

Christina smiles softly. “They’re going to be like family to you, don’t worry. Now, go. Tell Sunmi that I’ll catch up later.”

Ae studies Christina’s eyes for a long moment, sensing her lie but heading for the door regardless. However, just before she heads out the door, she turns around to face the solemn girl.

“You know, Christina…I know that it’s you.”

Christina’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. Surely she’s mistaken; how would Ae know about her ties to Taehyung? Perhaps she revealed too much by sending her off to Jolie, she should’ve known how obvious that would be-

“Yours was the first name out of his mouth today, not mine.”

And with that, Ae strides out of Christina’s apartment, never looking back.

Eight Months Prior (the day Ae and Taehyung met)

Taehyung’s hands are shaking as he slams the door behind him and rushes to the sink, crashing into it. He pants at his reflection, bringing one of those shaking hands up to brush the hair from his eyes but freezes when he notices the red thread dangling from his left hand.

“Hello, my name is Ae, and I’m interviewing for the camera director position.”

Taehyung had been slouched in the corner all morning, playing on his phone and wondering why one earth Christina had practically begged him the night before to go to the interviews. However, when he heard that voice…

“Wait,” he pokes his head up and looks toward the center of the room. His eyes met wide ones, the girl in question freezing in her place as Taehyung sat up to get a better view. “Do I know you?”

“N-no,” Ae jumps a little, looking apprehensive and automatically sliding her left hand behind her back. It’s that movement that alerts Taehyung to the life-changing knowledge that his soulmate is a mere few feet away from him.

The rest is a blur.

People cheered – cheered – when they made the connection, some staff member giving Taehyung a hearty pat on the back that propelled him toward Ae. Something shouted something about giving the couple some space, while another made a remark about Ae obviously getting the job.

“Her soulmate is Kim Taehyung,” they mumbled with a smile. “Of course she’s gonna get the job. How dreamy is that? Getting to work with your soulmate!”

Taehyung was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the way Ae flinched at the staff member’s comment. Instead, he stood there like a fool as Ae kept her eyes on the ground, fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater.

It was only when the room fell eerily silent that Taehyung realized everyone had left, leaving him alone with his supposed soulmate.

“I’m so sorry,” Ae began, daring a quick glance up at Taehyung. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here today, I would have rescheduled-“

“Wait, what?” Taehyung frowns, his voice raspy. “You knew?”

As his soulmate studies his expression, he hates how she sees right through him. This beautiful stranger already knows more about him than his most loyal friends do.

Because Ae rises from her seat, crossing her arms and offering Taehyung a soft smile. A sad smile, that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Don’t worry Taehyung,” she mumbles. “I’ll take care of everything.”

His blood runs cold when he realizes what she means

“Christina.”

When he stumbles out of the room a few moments later, the only thing on his mind is talking to Christina. He nearly drops his phone in the effort, but he finally manages to get her contact information up.

As he listens it ring, he wonders what exactly he wants from this phone call.

To beg her forgiveness?

Or to beg her to run away with him?

In the end, she doesn’t answer. Four missed phone calls and six increasingly desperate texts later, Taehyung bursts into the nearest room he can find. And it’s now, standing in the bathroom on the main floor of the Hybe building, that Taehyung tries to call someone else.

“Hello?”

“Jiminie…”

“Tae? What’s up?”

“Jimin, I-” Taehyung closes his mouth, staring down at his red thread before speaking again. “I met her.”

“You met…who?”

Taehyung’s pretty sure he can hear Jolie in the background of the call, and it makes Taehyung’s heart clench. His mouth runs on with his thoughts, forgetting that Jimin has no idea what he’s talking about.

“This can’t be happening,” he mumbles, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Why is this happening?”

“Tae, where are you?”

Taehyung can hardly hear him anymore, stuck staring at his reflection in the mirror and replaying the day over and over. Angry at himself for being so foolish, for the eternal track that his mind keeps running. No matter how he reads it, he always comes back to the same conclusion. The same question.

“How could she do this to me?”

When Taehyung left the room in a flurry of nerves and shock, Ae remained behind. Still in shock from the whole encounter, still wondering if she was supposed to finish up her interview.

She wished that she would have snuck out before the staff started coming back in.

“How are you feeling?” One staff in particular asked. She was a part of the board that was conducting interviews, her name was Lia. She appeared to be bouncing on the balls of her feet, staring at Ae as though she were an ancient artifact that had recently been uncovered. “Can you believe it?”

Ae smiled softly, fighting the uneasy feeling in her gut. “Er…no. Not really.”

At her words, the rest of the staff giggle and start chatting amongst themselves, throwing out the occasional question that Ae hardly has time to answer before another one comes. She finally clears her throat, glancing at Lia expectantly.

“So, uh…” she shakes her head, trying to sound more professional. “Do we need to carry on with the interview now?”

Everyone stares at her for a moment before Lia promptly bursts out laughing. “Oh, sweetheart,” she croons, reaching out and patting Ae’s head. “I mean, if you want to, we can finish it. But you know you’ve got the job, right?”

At this news Ae perks up. “Wait, really? I didn’t know-”

“Your soulmate is literally Kim Taehyung,” another staff member pipes up from the back. “How could you not?”

As everyone shares knowing smiles, Ae remains frozen to her seat. “I- you mean…” she trails off, and Lia tilts her head quizzically. “Not to sound ungrateful, but…say Taehyung wasn’t my soulmate. Would I still get the job?”

To Lia’s credit, she tries to look serious about considering the question. However, Ae sees all that she needs to see is that moment of hesitation. And when Lia opens to mouth to say, “Of course,” Ae slowly rises from her seat and excuses herself from the room.

That was the beginning of the end.

Later that night

Someone is pounding on the door. With a heavy sigh and tear-swollen eyes, Christina pads her way up to her front room. She stares at the front door, flinching when the knocking resumes.

“What?” She yells out, annoyance clear in her tone. The response on the other side of the door is muffled, but rings loud and clear through Christina’s ears.

“Christina, I swear if you don’t open this door right now-”

With her heart in her throat, Christina yanks the front door open, causing the annoying nuisance of a person to stumble inside, gasping. Once they gain their balance, Christina hurries to shut the door behind them, cursing under her breath at how freezing it is outside.

Her visitor tries and fails to hide his shivers, and he pants and pushes his mop of hair back. Water drips from his clothes, pooling on the floor and seeping into the rug. However, Christina can’t find the words to properly reprimand him as he straightens up and levels her with a piercing stare.

“Now,” Taehyung breathes out, jaw clenched. “Care to explain all of this?” He desperately points to the red thread hanging from his left hand, a testament to his soulmate on the other side of it.

“No. Not really.”

Taehyung’s eyes flash at Christina’s off-hand attitude, something white-hot coursing through him as she goes to reach for the door. No doubt to kick him out.

He won’t have it, though. In an instant he’s grabbed Christina’s shoulders, halting her in her movement and turning her about to face him completely. For some reason he’s panting again, and as Christina looks up at him through her lashes, he swallows heavily.

Hands falling to his sides, Taehyung clenches and unclenches his jaw. Christina remains silent before him, staring up at him as though daring him to speak. To say something stupid and making everything somehow worse than it already is.

“Don’t-” the word gets caught in his throat, “don’t shut me out.” Taehyung closes his eyes, squeezes them shut for a long moment before opening them again and chancing a step forward. “Don’t leave me.”

Christina knows she should step away, open the door, and kick Taehyung out into the rain again. Make him leave, make him call Ae. Send him over to Jolie’s apartment, where his soulmate is no doubt coming to see that cutting the thread isn’t the best choice.

But she doesn’t move. Caught in those endless irises, holding her in her spot.

And to think, just yesterday they were joking around. Comfortable. Happy.

“I don’t want to hope.”

The words tumble out of Christina’s mouth without her consent, however once she starts speaking, the words just won’t stop.

“Please don’t do this to me, Tae. Taehyung. I can’t be the reason everyone’s lives fall apart. I already ruined my own life, isn’t that enough? You don’t want me-”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” He asks, deathly quiet.

Christina can’t stand the way he’s looking at her. Like he’d gladly give it all up – give his soulmate up – just to spend a little longer here with her. So despite the horrible wrongness of her words, she spits them out anyway in an effort to wipe that look from his face.

“You don’t want somebody’s leftovers, Taehyung.”

Taehyung jolts as though someone slapped him, mouth dropping at her words. His eyes glance down at her severed thread, the same one she’d held up a mere week ago when they’d sat together on the balcony of his apartment.

It had been with hushed tones that Christina finally told Taehyung her whole story. How she ran from her soulmate, desperate to find any way to cut her thread. And Taehyung had silently listened, holding her when it all became too much.

Now, those hushed tones have dagger-like tendencies. Now Christina wields the truth against herself, trying to sabotage whatever this is between them before it’s too late.

Taehyung doesn’t have it in him to inform her that it already is too late.

It’s been too late for a while now. He’s in too deep.

“Christina,” he breathes. His eyes are so dangerous, flashing with a moment’s anger as he thinks on what her words entail. “Do you really think that?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think-”

“Yes, it does!” Taehyung shouts now, and Christina realizes that she’s somehow managed to break down those walls. He was angry to begin with, so it didn’t take too much to stoke that flame again. “Of course it does, how can you even say that about yourself?”

“Taehyung, I’ve already accepted that this is how it’s going to be. Can’t you just be happy?”

“Be happy? Did you seriously just ask me to be happy?”

“Yes! No go find your soulmate and be happy with her!”

“NO!”

Christina jumps as Taehyung’s voice echoes through her small apartment, hand jumping up to where her heart beats madly against her chest. Taehyung huffs in front of her, eyes wild as he struggles to explain.

“How dare you throw this away?” Taehyung takes another step forward, boxing her in as her legs press against the back of her couch. “How dare pretend like I haven’t been happy this entire time, with you? Did that…weren’t you happy?”

Yes.

“Please leave.”

Taehyung’s breathing falters, suddenly more labored as he blinks rapidly. It’s only later that Christina will realize that he was blinking away tears. Tears of frustration, sadness, she’s not sure.

“Please,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me the villain. Make it work, Tae. Just…try. For Ae.”

If Christina lifted her head to look at Taehyung, she would have seen him furiously wiping away a stray tear, shaking his head.

“But I don’t love Ae.”

Christina curls in on herself even more, silently begging him to not finish that thought. I love you.

Because he does. Or at least, he thinks he does.

But Christina knows that she loves him. She has for months now. And this is the best way to love him.

Give him the best shot she can at true love.

“You will.”

Christina swears she can feel Taehyung ghost a hand over her hair before thinking better of it. He stays for a while longer, breathing ragged and a million thoughts running through his mind.

Christina doesn’t dare look at him, still hiding her head in her hands.

“Christina…” Taehyung finally whispers. Even his quiet voice sounds too loud in her head. “Look at me. Please, look at me.”

She does after a few shaky breaths, willing herself to shut down her emotions as she drags her eyes up to meet Taehyung’s.

His eyes say everything, and it’s too much.

I love you, she cries out in her mind, eyes shuttering.

“Thank you, for making me feel wanted,” she says instead.

“Stop speaking in past tense,” Taehyung warns. Christina scoffs quietly, dropping her eyes once more.

“Go. Ae is at Jolie’s apartment still, I think. She needs to talk some things out with you.”

“But Christina-”

“Kim Taehyung, she’s your soulmate. I am not. Now quit complicating that and leave.”

He does, no longer able to deny her wishes. As idiotic as he thinks they are.

And he hates every step that carries him away.

Present Day (8 months later)

Groaning and yawning, Christina makes her way to the front room before promptly collapsing on the couch. She grabs the bag of goldfish she left earlier, popping a few in her mouth as she flips the TV on and begins flipping through the channels. She stops when she spots a familiar face.

“Tonight we’re discussing what could be the beginning of a new trend regarding soulmates, what some are referring to as the Kim Rebellion. Of course, this is a nod to Kim Taehyung of BTS, as he and his soulmate mutually decided to go their separate ways seven months ago. We go now to Lee Heesun for more details. Heesun?”

The screen switches to show a grim looking reporter standing outside of the Hybe building, a few people scurrying past him.

“That’s right, the Kim Rebellion has reached new heights this week as just this morning Paik Ae had an exclusive interview with Dispatch, outlining her reasons for parting ways with her world-famous soulmate.”

A clip of the interview pops up, showing a smiling Ae and the sight that threw the world into a tailspin after having just recovered from Jimin and Jolie’s drama.

A severed red thread hangs from Ae’s left hand. She pays it no mind, kindly answering the questions thrown at her and maintaining an easy smile. Christina watches in awe as she speaks, wondering how she could be so brave.

“Do you regret it?” The interviewer asks, and Ae looks as though she was prepared for the question.

“I don’t regret walking away, just like how I could never regret getting to meet my soulmate.” She finally glances down at her thread, twisting the end around her fingers. “You know, this isn’t for everybody. However, Taehyung understood my need to distance myself from him. He casts a big shadow,” she chuckles knowingly. “I mean, I’m always going to be associated with him. That’s fine. But…I want people to know that it’s ok to create your own destiny.”

And create it she has. In the span of the past eight months, Ae has done what Christina had always dreamed of.

Opening up the door for multiple soulmates to step away from potentially or actually dangerous relationships. Opening up the conversation for those isolated from society for not quite fitting the soulmate mold.

Normalizing severed threads, one day at a time.

Christina has even been able to make her business more known due to Ae’s efforts. No longer in fear of the stigma against people like her. Because after all, Kim Taehyung of BTS now sports a severed thread, of his and his soulmate’s own free will and choice.

So when seven months ago Ae and Taehyung went live to explain that they had no intentions of being together in any capacity, Christina chose to throw herself into her work. Diving in, being too busy to allow herself to wonder where that left her, exactly.

Don’t make me the villain, she had pleaded all those months ago. Taehyung was smart, he knew that bringing Christina into the light so soon after parting with Ae would lead to people getting the wrong idea.

Or was it the right one?

Bzzzz!

Christina’s train of thought is derailed as a text comes through, from Jolie.

Jolie loml: hey do you need a ride to your meeting tonight? Sunmi said she could drive you if you wanted

Jumping up from the couch, Christina scrambles to grab her shoes. Checking the time, she realizes that she should be able to arrive in time for her meeting if she takes the bus.

Me: nope, already left! Thanks though!

Jolie loml: let me know how it goes!! Love youuu

Me: ugh, so loving and supportive.

Cracking a small grin at the thought of Jolie’s reaction to her text, Christina runs out the door and toward the bus stop. “This better be worth the humiliation,” she mumbles.

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

“Take your time, Christina.”

She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

Another deep breath.

“And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

“Welcome, Christina. Can we all say hello to our new friend?”

An array of different voices pipe up, some shy and others more confident. “Hello, Christina.”

“Hi,” she whispers to the ground.

“Now,” the facilitator begins with a gentle smile. “What makes you think that you’ve ruined other people’s relationships?”

Christina chews on her bottom lip for a moment before venturing an answer. “Because I work as a Severer.”

The silence carries on for a touch too long, and Christina glances up to see a couple of the people around the circle looking at her with wide eyes. There’s one girl in particular that glares outright at her, and Christina notes the cut thread that she sports on her left hand.

No doubt she’s blaming Christina for her current predicament.

“Ok,” the facilitator – what’s her name? If she squints, Christina can just see the beginnings of her name tag. Mrs. G? Mrs. G regains her gentle smile, urging Christina to go on. “You’re not the first Severer to join our group. Josh was one, remember?” There’s a few scattered nods. A couple of people even go so far as to smile fondly at the mention of Josh, giving Christina reason to hope that they might not all hate her for her occupation.

“And what happened to Josh?”

“Oh, well he moved a couple of months ago. He’s actually getting married, his invitation is on the fridge. You’ll have to look at it before you leave.”

Christina’s eyes widen at this. “He’s getting…he’s getting married? People like us can do that?”

Mrs. G laughs at Christina’s incredulous tone, but reassures her instantly. “Of course, Christina. We all deserve our own happiness, don’t we? Now be honest, have you had any mal-intent in your line of work?”

“Well, no…”

“Exactly. So, ‘people like you’, as you stated, deserve just as much happiness as the rest of us.” Mrs. G pauses, waiting to see if the words settle into Christina’s heart before continuing. “Happiness isn’t something pre-determined. You find it. You make it.”

The meeting continues, other people sharing their stories and their progress. Christina listens intently, interested to see a couple of other people that had cut their own thread. One boy in particular piques her interest.

“I’m a part of the Kim Rebellion,” he explains. “Paik Ae really inspired me, you know? Not a lot of people would turn away from someone like Kim Taehyung, but she really seems happy. I had been with my soulmate for two years, but I was never…I don’t know, I never quite felt like I belonged. Turns out, when I brought it up with them, they felt the same way. So we decided to take the leap, go thread-less.”

“And how has your journey been so far?” Mrs. G asks, sporting a grin.

“Amazing,” the boy breathes, with stars in his eyes. “I’ve never felt so free before.”

Before she knows it, the meeting is concluding and people begin to stack their chairs. Christina stands up to follow suit, but Mrs. G stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I’ll take care of it, darling. It looks like you have a visitor waiting for you.”

Turning, Christina cranes her neck to see a familiar mop of black hair just outside the rectangular window of the door, quickly followed by a pair of curious eyes that widen as they notice Christina’s attention.

“I- excuse me,” Christina stammers out, scurrying over to the door. The moment she opens it, Taehyung jumps back, looking a little sheepish at having been caught.

“What-” Christina can’t quite get the words out, just shocked to even see this man at all. It’s been…how long has it been? “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, he’s caught up in that thing he does. Where he goes inside his thoughts, forgetting to respond. Christina sighs, rubbing her face and brushing past him.

This snaps him out of it, and soon enough Taehyung is jogging to catch up to Christina, jumping in front of her.

He doesn’t touch her. No, he feels like he shouldn’t just assume that he could ever touch her, let alone now.

“How did you know…?” Christina finally asks before he can say anything.

“Jolie.”

Ah, of course. The recovery group was her idea, actually. To be honest, Christina had vowed to never go back to another recovery group after she went to the one right after she fled her soulmate.

But here she is. Back again.

She’s not sure who to blame, anymore. The man in front of her, his soulmate…herself.

“Christina.”

“Hmm?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, looking nervous. “Could we maybe…can I give you a ride home?”

Christina doesn’t immediately respond, too stunned as her focus remains on the hand that Taehyung just ruffled his hair with.

Focused on the cut thread, to be more exact.

Sure, she’s seen photos and videos of him with it, even seen him from a distance, but up close…it’s so much more real. So final.

“Christina?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

Taehyung blinks, clearly not expecting it to be so easy. However, he leads her out of the building without another word, opening up the passenger side door with a nervous smile.

Christina settles down in the seat with a blank expression, half wondering if this is even real. However, as Taehyung closes the door and she’s met with just how much everything in here is him. The smell alone is enough to have her inhaling deeply, bombarding her sense with the very thing she’s been trying to run from for months now.

Taehyung hops in the driver’s side, and Christina politely ignores the way his hands shake as he tries to start the car. The silence is heavy as they pull out of the parking lot, and Christina stares out the window as they drive.

In the reflection of the passenger-side window, she can see Taehyung glancing over at her every so often. Finally, after the tenth time, he speaks.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever, feels like.”

“Yeah, how long has it been?”

Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “Namjoon’s birthday party. Although you were leaving right as I was arriving, remember?”

“Oh. Right.”

Again the silence. It’s suffocating, making Christina want to scream.

“So…” she mumbles out, staring straight ahead. “How have you been?”

“Oh, good. Been…good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that she has nothing left to lose, but Christina finds herself sliding into her teasing persona at his response.

“Wow, so eloquent.”

Taehyung blinks before smirking, easing into the conversation as well. “I’ve always had a way with words, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t disagree more.”

The sound of his chuckle fills the small space, and it lodges in Christina’s heart. It becomes a struggle to keep her eyes forward, a part of her begging her to just get lost in this moment.

Because what if it’s their last?

And yet…

What if it’s the first?

All too soon, they’re parking in front of her apartment, and Christina offers him a small smile of thanks before opening her door. She yelps in surprise when Taehyung reaches across her torso and closes her door.

“What was that for?” She asks, offended. Turning to Taehyung, she can’t help but feel a little intimidated as he regards her solemnly.

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face her fully, one arm resting on the wheel while the other rests on the console.

He looks so honest, in this moment. Hair a mess, a small stain on his trademark Celine shirt. Christina notices it with a start, recalling the fact that he’s wearing that very shirt in the photo she keep atop her dresser.

It’s still there. After all these months.

“Hey,” Taehyung whispers. Christina’s eyes snap up to his face instead of the stain on his shirt. His tongue wets his lips before he speaks again, continuing to whisper. “I’m happy right now. Are you?”

That red thread whips and twists from the A/C, and Christina takes a moment to look at her own.

“How did you do it?”

Taehyung understands her question, following her line of sight. He sighs softly, recalling the day he and Ae took matters into their own hands and singlehandedly started their own rebellion.

“Some guy in Daegu. Josh, was his name.”

Christina’s head snaps up. “Josh? He’s getting married!”

“O-oh, ok,” Taehyung stammers out, chuckling a little. “Good for him.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine. I’m happy for Josh.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Another pause. This one isn’t as uncomfortable as the previous ones, though.

“Christina? You never answered my question.”

Are you happy right now? Here, with me?

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.”

Christina groans, leaning back in her seat. “Taehyung, you can’t just drive me home and start going on about happiness and end up with us being together. You know that, right?”

Taehyung chews on his bottom lip with almost religious fervor. “…I know.”

“Maybe I should go.”

“Wait!” Taehyung reaches out again, ready to block Christina’s exit. “I had this whole speech I needed to say to you and- and- quit looking at me like that, otherwise I’m gonna forget it!”

Christina laughs, holding her hands up innocently. “Sorry, sorry! Let’s hear it!”

Taehyung sighs, closing his eyes.

“You’re my choice.”

After a few moments of silence, Christina frowns. “That’s it?”

Taehyung’s eyes fly open, a curl curling the corners of his lips. “No! Hold on, let me explain.” Once he sees Christina waiting patiently, he continues. “You and I…we’ve never been given a real choice before. Our decisions were made up, with our soulmates. But you…you broke away from that. Created your own path. You inspired me, still do inspire me, every day. To make my own path.”

Christina holds her breath, not daring to say anything.

“Any while your circumstances were much worse than mine, and I’m grateful every day that you were able to escape that sorry excuse for a man, I know this is for certain: we’ve forged our own paths, and for the first time, we’ve been given a choice. I choose you. I chose you months ago, Christina.”

Taehyung’s hand wraps around the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. “Please, tell me you choose me, too.”

Christina wonders for the hundredth time if this is all real.

For the first time in her life, is she really able to choose love? If Taehyung’s hopeful gaze is any indication, she must be.

“Is this ok?” She whispers.

“Is what ok, darling?”

The pet name goes straight into her bloodstream, making her feel lightheaded. “Is it ok to get you?”

Taehyung smiles broadly at her question, slowly reaching out and brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

“Of course it is. You’ve got me, either way.” He sighs. “As much as I’ve been furious with you over the past eight months-”

“What do you mean, furious?”

“You led me into a trap to meet my soulmate!” Taehyung exclaims, looking at Christina fondly. “And then avoided me for like eight months after that!”

“Ok, at least give me credit for being a good person-”

“Oh, you’re a saint,” Taehyung groans out, finally throwing his door open and rushing around the car to the passenger side. Once he opens that door as well, he crouches down to be eye-level with a wide-eyed Christina. “You’re a certified saint, happy?”

Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, Christina senses the real question behind it. Slowly, she reaches out to touch the stain on his shirt, making a blush rise to Taehyung’s cheeks.

“Yes.” She gives him a shaky smile. “Extremely.”

Taehyung’s smile only grows as he takes the hand that rests against his shirt, raising his up to place gentle kisses along the tips of her fingers. Christina’s breath catches at the sight, Taehyung’s dark eyes fluttering closed.

“Let me walk you to your door,” he mumbles.

Christina complies, thrilling in the feel of his hand in hers as they walk to the door. Once there, she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Want to come in?”

Taehyung gasps, and Christina throws a hand over his mouth at his over the top reaction.

“Not like that, you pervert! We just have a lot to talk about still!” Taehyung grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away. “And you just don’t want me to leave yet, right?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Once they head inside, Christina heads straight for the kitchen while Taehyung takes a seat on the stool. Filling up a glass of cool apple cider, Christina passes it to him before leaning back against the counter and drinking in the view.

“You know,” she starts, taking a swig of the sweet drink before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of people sit there. Drink cider, talk about their problems.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, like Jolie. And Ae.”

“Now me.”

“Now you.” Christina sighs, setting her glass down. “You want the truth?”

Taehyung looks intrigued, also setting his glass down. “Always.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to sit there.” She’s surprised when her vision blurs with tears, not expecting to be so emotional about it. “I didn’t think you ever would, though.”

In an instant, Taehyung is on his feet and wrapping her into a tight embrace. As she breathes him in, Christina wonders if this is what Jolie meant when she described how Jimin felt like home.

“I’ll be sitting there until my butt falls off.”

Chest shaking with laughter at his own comment, Christina groans but doesn’t try to move away. Instead she wraps her arms around his middle, holding him even tighter.

“Gross, but thank you.”

Lips pressing a gentle kiss atop her head, Christina can feel Taehyung smile against her hair. “Anything for you, darling.”

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#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts soulmate au #taehyung soulmate au #bts angst #taehyung angst #jimin soulmate au #bts fanfiction #Taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x oc

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wastelandlovingscenarios · 3 years

Note

crushing companions reacting to f!sole being caught under the mistletoe by someone who ISNT him?

omg, that’s so funny to think about. some are longer than others so i hope you don’t mind (also i got a little carried away). please enjoy! ❤️

i feel like i moved away from the topic but yknow.. ☠️

christmas/new years reacts are still open!

somehow, he was dragged into this and had no choice but to attend upon soles request, not being able to say no due to his obvious crush on her. now he was here, mindlessly listening to the chattering of the person who accompanied him during the party, being absolutely bored out of his mind despite the liveliness of the party. as the person continued on, words not being absorbed, his eyes scanned the area for sole, wanting to at least see her once during the whole event and hopefully strike a conversation before it ended.

he expected to see everything; her chatting with some people, maybe putting out some food, or playing with the kids, but what he didn’t expect was to find her under the mistletoe with someone else. someone that wasn’t him.

Danse:

his world stopped for a mere second, all his surroundings becoming blurred as he focused on the scene the raveled before him, unknowingly holding his breath while he did so. his mind slowly processed what was happening and once it completely settled in, a wave of genuine irritation and jealousy began to crash over him. danse being danse, he tries to keep his emotions under control as best as he can. on one hand, sole has the freedom to do anything and everything with anyone she pleases with... and on the other? he wants to pull her into his arms for him and him only.

as the person leans in for a kiss, he leaves no room for debate as he unconsciously rushes his way there, unable to cope with the idea of his precious crush sharing such contact with someone else. sole would yelp in shock as she was pulled away from the person without explanation. he ignored sole’s questions as he dragged her to a quiet corner, not thinking straight.

his eyes stayed on the individual, glaring at them silently with a displeased look as if sole wasn’t staring up at him with the most confused expression. the protective hold on her wrist never detached, the grip still as tight as when he first grabbed it.

she coughed to get his attention and his gaze immediately fell on her, forgetting that he had dragged her without a reason. he would be struck with horror, his heart stopping at the realization that he had done so without registering it. “so, uh. mind explaining what that was for?”

his face would go completely red, his mouth opening to respond, but much to his dismay, nothing came out. the words became tangled in his throat as he tried to come up with anything to cover him from the truth but eventually came to the conclusion that there was no way he could save himself at this point. swallowing nervously, he slowly slid the hand that grabbed her wrist to enevelope hers and with a flushed expression, he knew he had a lot of explaining to do. no better time to do it than christmas day, right?

Deacon:

if someone were to ask deacon why he was so afraid to fall in love again, this would be the exact reason why. he didn’t like the familiar feeling that began pooling in his stomach and the unwanted envy and insecurities that began to surface. instead of showing his discomfort, he smiled through it all and excused himself from the conversation, quickly sneaking up on them. he didn’t have a plan, but he knows damn well that he could at least make one.

before the person could lean in for a kiss, he’d pop out of no where, cutting the individual off even before they had the chance. with a “panicked” expression, he’d grab sole by the shoulder before she could let a word out, ignoring the confusion on her face. “charmer! i just came here to say...” he stopped for a moment, giving her the longest stare as the awkward silence began to build up, “..that you look great today, partner!”

she would send him a look of disbelief. “seriously, deeks? all that just to say i look good?”

“someone’s sounding a little ungrateful during the holiday season, tsk. a thank you would be nice.” he shook his head disapprovingly, both ignoring the individual that watched them dumbly, unsure of what to say. he then pointed to the door behind him while keeping a disappointed expression, “also, dogmeats totally destroying your vault suit.”

“he’s WHAT?!” sole nearly yelled, covering her moth instantly as she received stares left and right. with a paled expression, she’d laugh nervously and run towards the other way, excusing herself in a hurry. “sorry, gotta go!”

deacon would smile and pat himself on the back at the accomplishment of his mission. the person would be left dumbfounded at what just happened. “uhhh..”

with a smirk, he’d turn over to the individual and look up back at the mistletoe that hung above them. “so you gonna kiss me or what loverboy? these lips can’t wait forever.” and just like that, the person immediately shook their head and left the area with an embarrassed expression. he scoffed as he watched them drag away to another area of the party. that’ll teach them not to mess with him.

now he just needed to find another lie to tell sole when she realizes that dogmeat wasn’t at all destroying her vault suit but was instead sleeping by the fire.

Maccready:

maccready is many things; petulant, angry, and absolutely jealous to his core and does not bother to hide it. he disregards the person he’s talking to, immediately stomping off towards soles direction without a word spared to the individual that accompanied him. sole would hear the loud footsteps behind her and would turn around upon hearing the noise, seeing a red faced maccready making his way to them with the biggest scowl ever. the person would raise a brow, absolutely bewildered at macs behavior as they stepped forward in attempt to shield sole.

“hey man, you good-“

“take a hike, buddy.” mac shot back through gritted teeth, his tone full of venom. the persons confused and concerned expression would soon turn into a surprised one, full of disbelief at the words that left the mercenary’s mouth. before they could respond with just as much attitude, sole would stop the situation from escalating, a sweet tone in her voice.

“okay, okay. take it easy.” she cut in between the two heated individuals and slipped her hand in macs own, instantly earning a surprised and flustered from him. she looked at the person with a apologetic smile, “i’m sorry, please give us a moment.”

and just like that, she’d pull him to a more private area of the party, folding her arms with a demanding expression.

“what the hell was that?”

mac would try to pretend as if he was irritated, whining quietly but loud enough for her to hear. he’d throw his arms in the air dramatically in response, letting his emotions take over the best of him. “they were gonna kiss you!” then he began to panic more, realizing the position he dreadfully put himself in with little to no ways to take him out. “i mean- uh- they were gonna- i was-“

“so what if they were gonna kiss me?” she raised a brow, a small smirk forming on her face as she pieced together what was happening. “what then?”

“i- i-“ he began stammering, unable to find excuses this time around. he mentally beat himself up, instantly regretting the fact that he allowed his emotions to take control of the situation instead of his mind. ultimately, he gave up as soles eyes bored into him, his voice dying down into a quiet whisper. “i-i don’t know.”

sole would let out a laugh, entertained by his reaction, leaving mac a blushing and embarrassed mess as he looked towards the other direction, hands stuffed in his pockets. “don’t laugh at me.” he murmured, face growing more red.

she would immediately stop upon request but the smile on her face never left as she stepped forward, placing a hand on his bicep. “if you were trying to let me know you liked me, you got the message across.” mac grew rigid at the words that left her mouth but made no attempt to deny them, knowing the truth of it , “and just to give you a straight up answer..” she tiptoed and placed a quick kiss on his cheek, his eyes widening upon contact. he felt himself freeze at the softness of her lips.

“i like you too.” she whispered against his flushed skin and he nearly fainted from the intensity of the situation. what a way to celebrate christmas.

Hancock:

everyone knows hancock has it absolutely bad for sole, so for someone to approach her in such a brave manner secretly ticked him off. he saw the stupid ass smile that plastered that persons face and he wanted nothing more but to slap it off them. he’d look at the person accompanying him, holding a finger up to shush them for a moment with force, “hold that thought, sister/brother. got something i need to take care of.” and he’d immediately make his way to them, not wasting a precious second.

“sunshine!” he’d call out to sole with open arms and a smug smile, immediately attracting her attention away from the individual who wore an irritated expression upon seeing hancock. her face lit up with happiness, a grin stretching across her cheeks. “hey hancock!”

hancock would throw an arm over soles shoulders, gazing lovingly at them as she giggled. “looking beautiful as always, i see.” he chuckled at the redness forming on her cheeks. “so how’s my favorite girl doing?”

they’d continue on their conversation as if the other person wasn’t currently in their presence, wanting to continue where they left off. the endless compliments and inside jokes made them uncomfortable, unsure of what to do or say at the moment. “um hello?”

sole would smile sympathetically upon seeing the irritated expression on the persons face. “oh, sorry. got a little distracted.” hancock would cut in with a smirk, feeding off the persons reactions. “sorry brother/sister, we’re busy.” he pointed at the mistletoe above them, going straight to the point and sole let out a surprised, “huh?” with a flushed face. “now scram before i make you do it.”

the person cursed under their breath and stomped off elsewhere, leaving hancock satisfied and accomplished. sole would shyly look up at him. “so did you mean what you said or was that to help put me in a more comfortable position?”

he looked down at her, thinking for a moment but smiled warmly to ease her tension. “a mix of both, sunshine. if you’re still up for that kiss, i’d be more than happy to do so with your permission.”

she would become more flushed at his response but would grin happily. “you didn’t need a mistletoe to kiss me, hancock. i was more than willing to if you felt the same.”

“guess now we know, huh?” he’d whisper softly and tilt her chin up, slowly closing the distance between them both.

Nick Valentine:

nicks smile faltered in response, his eyes observing the scene before him for a little while. something in him throbbed with pain at the way the person smiled at her confidently as she stood still, not rejecting his offer and he took that as a sign that she allowed it. he excused himself from the conversation politely before it could happen and walked out of the room without a second thought to allow himself to have a breather. the muffled holiday music would fall on his ears as he took a seat on the patio, quietly attempting to push away the idea that sole was indeed having fun with someone else.

lighting up a cigerrate, he quietly watched the christmas lights that lit up the street with a sigh and took a drag, wanting to get the thought out of his mind as soon as possible. perhaps he’d head on back to diamond city as soon as he was done with his cigar, hopefully having the courage to thank sole for inviting him with a smile. nick wouldn’t realize how much time had passed or how long he’s been out in the cold until he heard a voice calling out his name faintly behind him.

“nick?” he’d look over his shoulder and immediately throw the cigar on the ground, stepping on it upon realizing who the voice belonged to. composing himself, he’d address her with a forced smile.

“hey there, doll.”

sole would smile back at him and stop in her tracks, looking at the empty spot near nick. “is this seat taken?”

“not at all. never taken for you.” sole giggled softly and sat near him, giving him some space. he quietly removed his jacket, placing it over her shoulders and she chortled, sending him a small thanks in return as she pulled the coat closer to her body. a silence surrounded the two for a moment before he broke it, not wanting to appear suspicious. “what brings you out here, doll?”

sole thought for a moment before responding, “i just came here to check on you.” she said with a worried smile, “i saw that you weren’t around and well.. they told me you just suddenly up and left the party, so i just had to check.”

he smiled, a warm feeling filling his body. even at times where she was occupied by other things, she still cared about his well being. “i’m doing just fine, no need to worry. besides, i know you’re busy with your date, so i wanted to give you some space.”

“my.. what?” she was pulled back at the words that left his mouth but then responded quickly upon realization, “oh! you mean the person you saw me with? no, no, nick that’s a misunderstanding!” she laughed. “they were just doing that whole mistletoe tradition thing, yknow. where they kiss and stuff... but i’m pretty sure you know about it.”

he gazed at her as she continued to speak, pausing in between as she processed her thoughts. she stared at the ground. “i didn’t kiss them though. i rejected them and told them i wasn’t interested.”

a sudden flood of relief washed over nick and he let out a breath he never knew he was holding, the dreading feeling in his chest immediately turning into nothing. “is that so?”

“yeah. i had other plans too, so it just wouldn’t work out either way.” she smiled with a blush, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. he looked at her with a curious expression. “did you manage to get around to those ‘other plans’?”

she blushed and scooted closer to him, leaning in to place a kiss on his cheek softly, immediately sending him to shock. his eyes fell on her the moment he realized what was happening and felt something inside him whir loudly. once she pulled away, she grinned at him shyly with a completely flushed face. “i have now.” she beamed happily as he touched the spot where she kissed, a smile of his own growing. “merry christmas, nick.”

he pulled her in, wrapping both his arms around her and kissed her temple lovingly as he whispered.“merry christmas, sole.” sole let out a pleased sigh at the contact, melting into his embrace.

Sturges:

sturges would swallow with a small, forced smile, trying to hide his discomfort in front of the eyes of others. much to his luck, he was great at doing that. his eyes would remain on her, not being able to avert it elsewhere no matter how hard he tried. despite his strange change of behavior, he’d still try to contribute the the conversation he was held hostage in, but give shorter replies, uninterested. a series of ‘uh-huh’, ‘yeah’, and hums would leave his mouth instead of well thought replies as he continued to focus on the scene nearby.

once sole presented a sign of discomfort that he was well aware of, he’d immediately excuse himself as apologetic as possible, quickly pacing to her. as he made it closer to them, he’d speak with a friendly tone, not wanting to make the situation worse. “hey now, is everythin’ alright here?” his eyes would flicker from sole for a while and then to the person who stood in front of her, a scowl on their face as they looked straight at him. he didn’t mind; if it meant irritating the person away from sole as far as possible, then so be it. he had no plans to leave now and he definitely wasn’t going to do so, even at soles commands.

“yeah, it’s just fine.” they said with an annoyed tone and sturges would reply with just as much attitude. “i wasn’t askin’ you.” he would then turn back to sole who smiled at him with relief, and he knew he made the right decision. “i’m okay, sturges.”

“i hope this fella wasn’t botherin’ ya too much, sole.”he commented loud enough for them to hear and their face went red with anger as they shot him a glare. “whatever, man.” and would stalk off towards the other direction with mumbled insults.

he’d sigh disapprovingly as he watched the person walk off childishly and then look back at her with a smile. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“of course i am. i was about to tell him off anyway.” she smiled happily at him and he felt his heart melt at the sight. “i’m glad you stepped up and saved me the trouble though. i really appreciate it.”

“no need for a thank you. i just did what was right.”

sole laughed and tiptoed, resting a hand on his cheek and before sturges could react, she placed a lingering kiss on his cheek, closing her eyes in bliss as she did so. once she retreated, she caught the familiar crimson that dusted his cheeks and giggled at the surprised expression on his face.

“my way of saying thank you since you won’t accept it and, uh..” she pointed at the mistletoe above them and he smiled nervously, letting out a shaky laugh. “gotta follow the tradition, yknow?”

“well, ain’t that a lovely way to say thank you.”

she nodded, taking both his hand in hers and stepped closer so that he could hear her murmur. “hope you don’t mind me saying thank you like that from now on.”

he leaned his forehead on hers and chuckled. “not at all.”

Preston:

preston would immediately show reaction to it, his smile dropping completely and his eyes widening in what seemed like terror and devastation. the words around him would become nothing but static and the music would be blurred as he felt time slow down. he knew sole deserved the best, but deep down, he hoped he was the best for her and maybe this was just the answer he was waiting for all along. with a heavy heart, he’d look away from the scene before it could happen and grow uncharacteristically silent throughout the whole conversation. he didn’t even bother to spare a second glance and tilted his hat down, afraid of what he’ll see.

when sole approached him later that night during the party, he jolted and automatically felt his heart drop as he met eyes with the one person he had it bad for. he tried his best to pull a smile but failed miserably as it looked absolutely forced.

“hey preston, not enjoying the party or something?” she said quietly, taking a seat next to him on the couch. the concern on her face meant she was picking up the unusual signs he was exhibiting and he felt panicked, knowing there was no escape.

“just not feeling it, that’s all.” he responded, looking back down at his drink on in his hand.

“we both know that’s a lie, preston. i can see right through you.” well it was worth a shot. “mind telling me what’s on your mind?”

he thought for a moment, wondering if it was worth telling sole about his feelings at this point since he had already gotten his answer. maybe he could fake it with a smile and carry on with the conversation casually in hopes that she’ll eventually drop it or maybe he could excuse himself elsewhere for the rest of the night to think to himself. instead, he just let out a deep breath and put down his drink.

“mind if we talk outside then?” sole smiled and nodded, standing from the couch and offered him a hand to help him up. they exited the building and walked down the quiet streets of sanctuary, side by side. sole remained quiet, waiting for preston to break the silence instead of forcing it out of him.

“you know what i’m about to tell you, i hope it doesn’t change anything between us.” he filled the stillness of the air and felt a small hand gently grab his bicep to stop him from walking any further. he looked back and caught the reassuring smile on her face. “you know it won’t change anything.”

he looked down at his feet, a blush forming on his face. “i know.” he breathed, “ i know it wont. you’re not like that.” she let out a hum of agreement.

“i guess.. i guess i was just upset that i saw you with someone else under the mistletoe.” he murmured, voice dying down the more he spoke, “and that i lost my chance.”

sole looked at him, baffled for a moment. “lost your chance? what do you mean?” he picked up his head to gaze at her with a defeated smile, lightly scratching the nape of his neck. “to tell you i like you, i guess. seems like someone already beat me to it.”

“what?” she looked confused and stepped forward, trying to explain herself, “preston, you’ve got it all wrong. i didnt kiss them! i left to go find you after i checked up on a few people.”

he stood there, wide eyed while trying to process the words that left his mouth and he realized in horror that he based off things due to his assumptions. “i- uhm, excuse me? you didn’t uh-“

“no, i didn’t kiss them preston and well, you could say i know who i want.” she grinned happily at him with a blush on her cheeks, keeping her hand on his bicep. he felt his heart beat loudly against his chest and he was caught off guard upon registering what she meant. “oh. oh!” a smile slowly grew on his face as he beamed at sole, holding both her shoulders in excitement. all signs of devastation and sadness immediately washed away as if it wasn’t there in the first place. “that’s - that’s great! oh my god! i-i don’t know what to say!”

“you don’t need to say anything.” sole laughed and moved her hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb over his skin. “just kiss me. you know, a celebratory one.. since it’s christmas and as my way of saying i feel the same way.” he nodded, leaning in to connect their lips.

“of course.”

Gage:

as if this party wasn’t bad enough already; the person talking was annoying the shit out of him and now the only person he’s ever had a crush on was being hit on by some low life. his scowl that was already there would only deepen more upon seeing that unsettling scene but would watch from afar, hand ready on his gun just in case some funny business were to arise. as much as he wants to put a bullet right between their eyes, he resists, waiting for some kind of signal from sole to give him the go.

without looking at the person who accompanied him, he’d speak gruffly, his expression absolutely twisted in anger. “shut the fuck up, will ya?” and they did, slowly sliding away from him in fear. he kept his eye on her, patience running thin as they grew closer to sole by the second. the second their hand stroked her arm flirtatiously, he snapped and made his way to them without a second thought, hand already drawing his gun.

“youd look better with a smile.” they commented as sole rolled her eyes, obviously unintimidated by their behavior. the sound of a gun cocking behind the person would stop her from responding and she’d peek behind them, seeing a furious gage glaring at the back of their head. the room went quiet, watching the scene before them but not daring to butt in, knowing gage was a tough one to take down. after all, they knew the safest route to this was for sole to take care of the situation before it escalated.

“and you’d look better with red,” he threatened, pressing the gun harder against the back of their head. “lots of it.”

the individual would turn a deathly white as they shook in fear, paralyzed. through stuttered words, they’d try to explain themselves, “i-i-its a tradition, the mistletoe! it’s - it’s just something w-we do every ch- christma-“

gage would shoot the mistletoe above them and sole watched as it fell to the ground, broken into pieces as sole sighed at the sad sight. “stupid ass tradition if ya asked me.”

she’d sigh and fold her arms, tapping her foot almost impatiently. “gage, quit it.” she demanded with an irate expression, “leave it and let’s go.” when gage refused to withdraw the weapon, sole sent him a sharp look. “now.”

and just like that, the person would let out a breath as gage retreated, mumbling some colorful language under his breath as he made his way to sole. they both walked past the silence crowd and once they made their way far enough from the party, she stopped in her tracks and faced him with a smirk. “jealous much?”

“i ain’t jealous. that was just getting’ ridiculous and embarrassin’.” he commented, looking elsewhere with a scowl.

“sure you weren’t.” she teased, earning a glare from the raider, “can’t deny that you wanted to kiss me though and you definetly wouldn’t think that tradition was stupid if you were under the mistletoe with me instead.”

he rolled his eyes and walked past her, wanting to hide the growing blush on his cheeks. “shut the hell up and keep walking, boss. we ain’t ever gonna make it back to nuka world with all yer blabberin’.” he stayed silent, knowing well that whatever sole had just told him was utterly true to the core and there was no absolute way he could deny it.

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cursed-or-not · 3 years

Text

I couldn’t get one of the vignettes to work, so naturally this sat in my drafts for way too long, but this is based on a post by @thiscastielhasflown about Cas blushing around Dean :)))

Cas doesn’t think he’s ever felt so human and so holy at the same time.

He is not who he thought he was, and neither is Dean Winchester.

When Cas accepted his orders, when he agreed to go to Hell, it was under the pretense of rescuing a righteous man. Cas expected a soul so pure it hurts to look at it straight-on, one so bright it burns.

What he did not expect were the ragged shards in front of him, thrumming like a heartbeat.

It’s not the concept of a soul, not the made-to-order design, but instead the lived-in, broken essence of a human.

It is still bright, but just enough that Cas can’t look away.

Here is a human soul: righteous and recalcitrant and real.

Cas doesn’t know how he’s supposed to move on. This is an order unlike any other, a mission he’s not sure he can complete; he doesn’t know how he can pull this soul from the fire with the clinical precision that’s expected of him. He isn’t sure he can leave the scene without leaving fingerprints, a sprawling scar that proves his guilt.

Yes, this is ordered, but it’s also intimate.

Cas knows what souls look like in theory, but this is messy and charred, and there is light shining through the tatters.

Cas is captivated by the man behind it.

Here, Cas can see the toll a lifetime takes on a human; he can see this soul’s--Dean’s-- greatest joys and miseries, can feel his pain and pleasure and imperfection.

It’s achingly, hauntingly personal, and Cas’ face burns at the intimacy of it all.

Cas doesn’t know what this feeling is, but he thinks it’s distinctly human.

Cas is already marked.

. . .

It happens more and more often now that he’s human.

Cas’s cheeks burn every time a customer yells at him at the Gas n Sip, every time Nora looks at him a little too long, every time he makes a new mistake at being human.

It never feels the same as when it’s Dean making him blush, but Cas has started to forget what that feels like.

When Dean visits, he can’t fathom how he ever couldn’t remember.

They’re in Dean’s motel room together, and Cas is trying with everything in him not to break down.

This man, this kind, beautiful, caring man is the same one who sent Cas away.

He doesn’t know how to reconcile that, and Cas feels ready to burst with everything he’s not saying.

Part of him wants to ask. Part of him wants to make Dean tell him why Cas had to leave, why he wasn’t good enough anymore, and part of him wants to tell Dean that look, this is what’s become of me since then; I don’t have a bed or a home or a family, and I don’t know what I did wrong, but I know you sent me away.

Another part of him wants to cup Dean’s jaw in his hands and kiss him until everything feels okay.

“You know, Cas, it’s real good to see you,” Dean says, and Cas almost yells at the sincerity.

It’s not fair. It’s not fair because Cas wants to hear it and Dean means it and they’re still so far apart.

“You too, Dean,” Cas tells him, because this part of him always wins out.

Dean offers a small smile, but something in his face is crumpled and wavering beneath it.

Dean lets out a quick exhale, and Cas can’t read his expression.

“Cas…” Dean begins, and Cas doesn’t want to hear it anymore.

“It’s okay,” Cas says quickly, and he can’t tell if he means it or not.

Dean closes his eyes.

“It’s not,” he shakes his head bitterly. “I’ll explain it to you, one day, but for now it’s shitty and selfish and not okay.”

Cas doesn’t know what to say. He’s still hurt and angry, but this is Dean, and today is one of the days Cas wishes that he had powers that could heal more than just physical wounds. He wishes he could lay a hand on Dean and make him better, make him smile, but even when he was an angel, the best he could do was heal battle wounds before they bled out. Today, he doesn’t even have powers.

“I believe that you had a good reason,” Cas says honestly.

He doesn’t know what else he believes, but that much has to be true.

“It doesn’t matter if I did,” Dean tells him, but he doesn’t look quite as exhausted as he did before. “I’m sorry.”

Cas smiles gratefully.

“Thank you for coming,” Cas says. “And for letting me stay with you.”

“Well, mi casa es tu casa,” Dean jokes, gesturing around the motel room. “Weird stains and all.”

Cas almost slips up, then. He almost says that a cheap motel room with Dean is better than a sleeping bag in a lonely store, but he catches himself.

“I don’t mind,” Cas says instead. “I’m grateful.” Dean huffs a laugh.

“Come on, man, it’s not like I’m doing a huge favor. It’s a shitty motel room.” Dean grins. “Not even the honeymoon suite.”

For some reason, the idea of sharing a honeymoon suite sets Cas’s cheeks ablaze.

Dean doesn’t notice under the dingy motel lighting.

Later, when Dean wakes up to Cas watching him for the first time in years, Cas doesn’t notice the blush coloring Dean’s cheeks, either.

. . .

“I love you.”

The words hang in the air like the Sword of Damocles, but Cas thinks that the only one threatened is himself.

Dean won’t say it back, Cas knows.

He isn’t sure what he expected, but Dean won’t look him in the eyes and Cas needs to say something else before this stretches on any longer and his cheeks are burning again.

Cas wishes he could write off the blush as an effect of the poison, but he thinks that whatever this is won’t break as easily as a fever.

Cas looks away.

“I love all of you.”

He leaves it at that.

. . .

Cas has been back for three days when the house of cards finally crashes.

It’s been delicate, since he got back.

He understands; you can’t just drop a love confession on someone and expect it not to get awkward. Cas may not understand everything about being human, but this, he does.

At first the lack of confrontation surprised him. Looking back, though, Cas thinks that it’s the most in character reaction possible.

Cas had come back, Dean had pulled him into a fierce hug, and then they’ve been carefully avoiding any alone time since.

Cas thinks this might be the kindest reaction, might just be Dean trying not to break his best friend’s heart, but the silence is worse.

Cas has accepted his role in all of this, and he knows not to expect more than he can have. Still, if nothing else he wants his best friend back.

Cas has never really been one to take the first step, but considering the leap of faith he took before the Empty came, he figures he can manage a conversation.

He waits until Dean’s the only one left in the kitchen.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says carefully, and Dean doesn’t look as trapped as he expected. Mostly, he just looks tired.

“I think…” Cas struggles to find a way to begin. “We should talk.”

Dean nods around his beer, taking care not to look at Cas.

Cas stays on the other side of the counter.

“I know that we’re acting like nothing has changed,” Cas begins, “And if that’s what you want, then I understand. But if you have any… concerns, then--”

“Really, Cas? Concerns?”

Cas blinks. “Maybe that’s not exactly the right word, but--”

“Cas, that’s not even the right sentiment,” Dean responds, finally looking at him.

“Then what are you looking for?” Cas asks, and he hates that even now, he doesn’t know.

“What am I looking for?”

If Dean objected to “concerns,” his offense is even greater now. Cas’s brow furrows.

Dean continues, “Cas, you told me you love me!”

Cas almost flinches.

“I know,” he says quietly. “I did.”

Cas can’t meet Dean’s eyes, but he’s not sure he wants to know what they’re saying, anyway.

“There’s-- kind of a lot to unpack there, man,” Dean says, and his voice is marginally calmer.

Cas looks up.

“I’m sorry.”

Cas knows immediately that wasn’t what Dean was looking for, but for the life of him, he can’t figure out what he is.

“You’re sorry, huh?” Dean’s voice is low, and Cas thinks there might be something ragged in it.

Cas blinks. “Yes.”

Dean huffs a bitter laugh.

“Okay, then. Think we’re done talking.”

“What-- Dean,” Cas protests, utterly confused as to how this went so wrong.

Cas steels himself to continue. “I never meant to make you uncomfortable, but Dean, I don’t want-- I can’t lose you.”

Something in Dean’s expression softens, but his shoulders stay tensed.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” he offers. “Listen, I get it. You said something on impulse and I misinterpreted it and now you’re sorry, apparently. Yeah, it sucks, but you’re not gonna lose me.”

Cas feels confusion etch onto his face.

“You think that my apology means I regret it?”

Dean looks at him like it’s obvious.

“I mean, it’s understandable,” Dean replies, gesturing widely.

Cas can’t believe how wrong this conversation is going.

“Dean, of course I don’t regret it,” Cas admits, still at a loss for how Dean could have reached that conclusion. “When someone confesses something in their dying moments that they’ve been carrying with them for more than a decade, they’re not generally lying.”

Dean looks at him half in doubt and half in wonder.

“I never said you were lying,” Dean grumbles in protest. Cas thinks the sullenness is more for show than anything else.

He has moved to Cas’s side of the counter.

“Well, I wasn’t,” Cas responds, and he knows it’s not witty or clever or important, but maybe if he keeps reaffirming it, Dean will start to believe it.

“I’m glad,” Dean says, and he puzzles Cas by offering him his beer. Now, they’re shoulder to shoulder.

Cas isn’t sure why, but he takes the beer. Dean’s eyes track the motion as he raises it to his lips, and Cas’s cheeks burn when Dean watches him swallow.

This time, Dean notices.

“You blushing?” Dean asks through a cocky grin, and damn it that just made it worse.

“No,” Cas grumbles.

“Now you’re lying through your teeth,” Dean accuses, taking his beer back and taking a sip.

“Well, I wasn’t lying about the other thing,” Cas responds, trying to regain his composure.

Dean’s joking disposition crumbles, and he glances at Cas’s face.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Dean nods, looking like he’s milling something over.

He seems to decide to take another sip of beer instead, but as he raises it to his lips, he says, “I love you, too, you know.”

Of all the responses Cas was expecting, this never made the list.

His face is hot again, though, and his heartrate is a little too sporadic, and if Dean keeps drinking beer like it’s a normal friday night, Cas is going to go insane.

His brain finally catches up to the situation.

“You what?” Cas asks incredulously.

Dean’s casual dimeanor finally falls away, and this time it’s his turn to blush as he looks at Cas over his beer.

“Love you,” Dean mutters, and it’s barely audible, but it’s more than enough.

Cas gives himself five more seconds of shocked staring before he huffs a laugh.

“I never thought…” Cas doesn’t know where it’s going, just knows that he’s never felt awe like this before.

“Yeah, me either,” Dean admits. “But it’s true.”

Dean sets his bottle on the counter, and Cas watches the movement, heart still beating a little too fast.

There’s still too much to say and also nothing. When Cas turns to face Dean, Dean takes his face in his hands.

Cas looks at him in wonder, eyes tracing the freckles and smile lines on his face.

Dean bites his lip quickly, still considering something, and then Cas doesn’t know who leans in first, but they’re kissing.

It’s honey-sweet and molasses-slow, and Cas thinks that this has to be why freedom exists.

#idk definitively what this is #bc it's part 15x18 coda #and part destiel through the years #but it was nice to write something #spn fanfic #destiel #15x18 coda #first kiss #spn spoilers #mine

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authenticcadence18 · 3 years

Text

“Can’t Help Falling in Love” Ch. 11

AO3

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

…

HIIIII HELLO EVERYONE!!!!!!! It’s been. Quite some time. 😅 If you’re still here THANK YOU!!!!!! It is greatly appreciated!!! I hope this chapter was worth the wait, lol!!

I posted the first chapter of this fic one year ago yesterday! Consider this chapter a celebration of that 😊. The past year has been…wild, to say the least, but writing this fic and getting to share it with you guys has been one of the biggest highlights of it!!!😁💕

Thanks as always to my lovely beta and friend @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal, and thank YOU so much for reading! I hope you enjoy!!!

...

“Wait a minute!!!”

Phineas froze in place (which was ironic, considering his realization struck in the middle of removing the crumb cake from a very hot oven).

“You called me your little crumbcake in your letter! And we just made a crumb cake! That wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”

“It was 100% not a coincidence!” Isabella called over her shoulder as she rummaged through a cabinet across the kitchen. “I wanted to make a crumb cake with my little crumbcake!��

A handful of silent seconds passed. And then she shuddered, a frothing wave of decade-old secondhand embarrassment cascading violently over her shoulders.

“Okay, I’m never calling you that again,” she announced dryly (since said frothing wave of secondhand embarrassment was purely metaphorical). “It’s way too weird.”

“What?? No!!” Phineas gently set the crumb cake on the counter, taking care to make sure it wasn’t going to fall, before turning to face her. “Isabella, it’s not weird at all!! I think it’s cute.”

“You only think it’s cute because you like me so much,” Isabella replied with a grin. “Trust me, there’s PLENTY of better pet names out there. I’ll think of some new ones for you.”

She crossed to his side of the kitchen and set the plate she’d retrieved on the counter. “Alright, all we need to do now is add powdered sugar. Do you have a sifter?”

“I sure do!”

Phineas retrieved said sifter from a drawer and turned it over in his hands a few times.

“….I’m actually an expert powdered sugar sifter, you know….” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh, really?” Isabella replied amusedly.

“Yeah! A few years ago, my mom put me on beignet duty for the Mardi Gras block party,” he explained. “I built a machine to actually COOK the beignets but figured out pretty quickly I’d have to powder them by hand to avoid making a huge mess…it took FOREVER. Aaand I still ended up making a mess. But now I’m an expert!!”

“Those beignets DID taste really good,” Isabella mused. “I remember thinking the powdered sugar to dough ratio was perfect!”

(She wasn’t just saying that for Phineas’s benefit, though she knew he would appreciate the compliment. As a former-Fireside Girl and baked goods’ extraordinaire, identifying quality desserts was practically in her blood!)

“Thanks!!!” Phineas replied. “I’m surprised you remember that!”

“Well, YOU made them. Everything you make is extraordinary. Of course I remember,” Isabella replied with a soft grin.

“Well, I’m not sure I’d say they were EXTRAORDINARY…” Phineas chuckled sheepishly. “…but thank you.”

“They WERE extraordinary,” Isabella insisted. “And you’re welcome!”

“It actually took awhile to get the ratio right, I’m flattered you noticed!” Phineas replied. “I did a bunch of calculations to figure it out…”

Isabella just listened with a smile as Phineas rambled on about the intricacies of beignet preparation and set to sifting sugar over the crumb cake.

And if his focus faltered a little when she hugged his middle from behind and nestled her head on his shoulder to get a better view, he didn’t show it.

….perhaps getting a better view wasn’t Isabella’s primary motivator in this situation. But she’d been waiting over a decade to indulge in coupley activities with Phineas as an actual couple: she wasn’t going to let this opportunity to do so pass her by!

She was so enamored with his closeness and the gentle lull of his explanations, so caught up in the sweet domesticity of the moment, it took her a few minutes to realize…it had been a few minutes.

Was Phineas taking his time with this (relatively simple) task on purpose?

“…hey, how long does it take an expert powdered sugar sifter to sift sugar over a crumb cake?” she murmured into his ear.

“Normally? I assume it would take about half a minute,” Phineas replied matter-of-factly. “ …but . If said expert powdered sugar sifter is being hugged by the love of their life, it usually takes longer. Could take minutes. Hours, even.”

Isabella giggled (and bit her tongue to keep from squealing at being referred to as the love of Phineas’s life because aAAAAAH!!!!) and brushed a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back and standing at his side. “As much as I’d love to hug you for hours, we don’t want the crumb cake to get cold.”

“Eh, I’d take a hug from you over warm crumb cake any day. But you do make a good point.”

Phineas gave Isabella a smile before pouring the excess sugar into a bag and setting the sifter down. Then, his eyebrows shot up, seemingly in realization.

“Hey....what if I started calling you ‘my little crumbcake’?” he asked. “Or just ‘crumbcake’? I don’t mind if you don’t want to call me that, but would be a shame to let such a cute nickname go to waste.”

Isabella hit him with a playful glare. “If you do that, you’ll find yourself on the receiving end of an ominous patch-related threat. Just because you’re my boyfriend now doesn’t mean you’re exempt from them.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Phineas grinned, not deterred in the slightest by Isabella’s ominous patch related threat-threat. “That’s the first time you’ve called me that!”

“Well, we’ve known our feelings are mutual for...what, over half an hour now?” Isabella shrugged. “And we’ve already talked about being in a relationship, so I figured you being my boyfriend was implied.”

(She definitely hadn’t been trying to figure out how to casually call Phineas her boyfriend without outright asking him if he WAS officially her boyfriend. And she certainly wasn’t very relieved that he’d taken being referred to as such well. No way.)

“Soooo…” Phineas slid his hand across the counter until it found Isabella’s. “…if you’re officially referring to me as your boyfriend….does that mean I get to officially refer to you as my girlfriend?”

He’d WANTED to be the picture of suaveness in this moment, to state the obvious as succinctly and matter-of-factly as possible.

…..but the quiver of excitement in his voice had likely ruined any chances of that.

Isabella beamed down at their entwined fingers and then back up at him.

“…yes. Yes it does.”

For a handful of seconds, they just gazed at one another fondly, hands still together, neither trying to conceal how happy they were.

Maybe titles like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” were arbitrary, especially for two lifelong best friends who were already well aware of how much they meant to one another (both in a platonic and romantic sense).

But….it still felt incredibly special to finally get to be boyfriend and girlfriend. Partners. Together. Officially.

Isabella eventually broke the awe of the moment with a wry smirk and a joke.

“I like ‘girlfriend’ a lot better than ‘crumbcake,’ that’s for sure!”

Phineas’s eyes lit up at the latter nickname, and Isabella groaned as she realized what she’d done.

“....why did I say that...” she grumbled. “We’d moved past the crumbcake thing, why did I say that???”

“I think it’s because you secretly like that nickname and wanted to remind me of it...crumbcake,” Phineas replied with a playful nudge to her side.

“WELL….maybe you’re not completely wrong there…” Isabella admitted, resting her head on his shoulder with an over-dramatic sigh. “I guess it’s kinda cute.”

(She had to admit it was sweet that Phineas was fond of a silly nickname she’d come up with so many years ago. Perhaps it was a little embarrassing, but in a nostalgic, sweet way. And she knew Phineas wasn’t teasing her maliciously...it was all in good fun. And he genuinely thought her childhood antics were endearing!)

“I knew it!” Phineas exclaimed. “You like when I call you ‘crumbcake’!!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head,” Isabella replied, leaning back and reaching up to ruffle his bright red hair with a chuckle.

“Too late, it’s already up there!” Phineas gestured to his head matter of factly.

“Well! I guess I’ll just have to stand here until your brain short circuits and it leaves your head, then! Because, in your own words, your brain short circuits if you look at me for too long because I’m just soooooo beautiful.”

“True as that may be, if you really want to short circuit my brain, I think a kiss or two from you would do the trick faster.”

Phineas said this without thinking about it.

And subsequently flushed beet red once his brain caught up to his tongue.

…perhaps his lack of a filter would be enough to short circuit his brain.

Isabella, fortunately, didn’t seem phased at all by his suggestion. “Hmmm….” she murmured, tapping her chin thoughtfully and scooting closer to him. “In that case, I guess I’ll have to kiss you. It’s the only logical conclusion.”

“Uhhh…yup! It’s only logical!” Phineas agreed, trying his best to play nonchalant as Isabella wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a knowing smile (and failing pretty miserably at nonchalance because HE STILL COULDN’T BELIEVE SHE WANTED TO KISS HIM, HOW COULD HE PRETEND TO BE PLAYFULLY NONCHALANT WHEN ALL OF THIS WAS SO MONUMENTAL???).

Isabella burst into laughter at his thinly veiled enthusiasm.

Because this moment—this entire evening—was full of moments she’d always dreamed of but that had seemed like just that: dreams!

PHINEAS FLYNN was asking her for kisses, and he was smiling at her as if sharing a brief romantic moment together in the middle of his kitchen was as exciting and enticing an idea as, say, building a super-computer in his backyard.

It was so incomprehensible, so utterly opposite from the oblivious-to-a-fault Phineas she’d grown up with, that she couldn’t HELP but laugh.

Phineas laughed with her, though he didn’t quite understand what was so funny.

(Her joy and close proximity were more than enough to give him butterflies, though, so he didn’t mind.)

“Sorry, sorry!!” Isabella managed to breathe between giggles. “It’s just!!! If I could tell my younger self that you’d actually be asking me to kiss you someday, I think her head would explode.”

“I get that!!” Phineas replied. “If I could go back in time to last night and tell my slightly-younger self that I’d be asking you to kiss me this time tomorrow, I think his head would explode.”

He chuckled before getting a far off look in his eyes.

“Huh....I COULD do that…” he mused thoughtfully. “Go back in time. Talk to my past self about all this. It would certainly alleviate a lot of the anxiety I experienced before I confessed to you.”

“But you shouldn’t do that,” Isabella replied quickly. “Because it could change this timeline or zap us out of existence. I’d rather not be zapped out of existence. Especially not right now. And, besides...getting to confess to one another was worth all it took to get there, right?”

“You’re right…getting to learn about your feelings from YOU was the best!” Phineas assured her.

(This was one of the reasons he needed Isabella, to keep some of his more extreme ideas in check.)

“And I’d hate to zap out of existence. But….”

He blushed a little, suddenly feeling a bit bashful as he recalled why Isabella’d begun laughing in the first place.

“…..I’d still like a kiss from you, if that’s alright.”

“Just one?” Isabella teased.

(She hadn’t forgotten why she’d begun laughing in the first place either.)

Phineas blushed more than a little.

How could Isabella be so coy and collected about all this??

(And why was he even so flustered right now? They’d kissed a handful of times at this point, so there was no legitimate reason to get flustered….but Phineas was flustered anyway. Maybe because he’d never outright asked Isabella for a kiss before? And the mere fact that he could do that at all was a tad overwhelming?? And every few minutes he had to keep reminding himself that all this was really happening because he was still getting the hang of this whole relationship thing and despite everything it still felt too good to be true??? …who knew.)

“Well, more than one would be just fine! But—but at least one!! If that’s okay.”

VERY smooth, Romeo. Fantastic job. A+ flirting technique.

“It’s definitely okay,” Isabella whispered with a smile, tenderly cupping his face in her hands and drawing him close. “Though I appreciate you asking.”

Not much took Phineas’s breath away. He’d spent his life making the impossible possible, after all!

…but Isabella’s kisses did the trick.

And they weren’t just kisses, anyhow. They were promises, assurances, declarations of love he could feel, warm grins and soft caresses and genuine affection courtesy of his best friend (and girlfriend, now).

….frankly, he noted as said-girlfriend gingerly pulled away and coaxed his eyes open with a lilting giggle, it was a miracle he still remembered how to breathe at all.

She was smiling at him, the same smile he’d felt nestled against his and heard in her bubbles of laughter only moments ago.

He’d never realized how versatile smiles could be before today.

“Hey…guess who has hearts in their eyes now?” Isabella crooned, gently stroking his cheek with her thumb.

Phineas blinked, taking a bit longer than normal to come up with a suitable answer.

(He wasn’t used to thinking on his feet in situations like this. He wasn’t used to situations like this at all.)

Isabella’s pupils appeared to be heart-free. So she must have been referring to….

“….me?”

“Yup!” Isabella grinned and gave his nose a playful “boop!” “It’s like they always say: couples who break the laws of physics together stick together.”

She brushed a final kiss to the corner of his mouth before pulling away from him entirely and turning towards the counter.

Phineas trailed behind her as she cut a slice of crumb cake (presumably for the two of them to share, as it was quite large) and slid it onto a plate, still a little dazed.

He was also interested in discovering a scientific explanation for the heart-eyes phenomenon he and Isabella had both experienced in the past half-hour…but he’d save solving that mystery for another day.

“…..how are you so good at this?” he managed to ask.

“At what? Cutting crumb cake?”

“No, I mean…” He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish chuckle. “…the flirting, the banter, basic relationship stuff.”

(Because Isabella WAS good at basic relationship stuff. All of it was seemingly effortless for her, especially considering she’d never even been in a relationship. Phineas supposed he himself wasn’t COMPLETELY hopeless when it came to flirting—his comment about Isabella’s kisses earlier was proof of that—but he’d done that without thinking.)

“I’ve just had more practice!” Isabella replied cheerfully. “Waaaaaay more practice. I flirted with you a LOT when we were kids, you just never noticed.”

(That was probably good, all things considered. Isabella’s attempts at flirting when they were kids had left her with quite a bit of retrospective embarrassment.)

Phineas winced at the reminder of all he’d missed out on, on all the pinpricks of affection that he hadn’t caught and had instead flown far over his head.

“….sorry about that….” he mumbled.

“Hey, wait a minute. We’ve already been over this!” Isabella said sternly.

(She’d just been trying to offer him a logical answer to his question, not make him feel guilty.)

“There’s absolutely no reason to be sorry, romantic feelings are never an obligation. And besides!!”

She took a step closer to him…then another step…then another…until she was near enough to turn Phineas’s stomach to Doonkelberry jelly because was she planning on kissing him again???

But she didn’t kiss him again, instead just smirking and whispering, “…you’re very cute when you’re flustered…” before leaning back with a bright laugh.

For a few moments, Phineas was struck with the desperate need to HIDE and ESCAPE before Isabella noticed how red his face was.

…but then he remembered that she was, in fact, his girlfriend (a minute ago they’d been smooching, after all) and that his undying love for her wasn’t a secret anymore.

And, since he apparently looked cute when he was flustered, she was likely enjoying this immensely.

Whew.

“Well, I mean, you’re ALWAYS cute, don’t get me wrong,” Isabella continued. She grabbed the crumb cake-laden plate and two forks. “But when you’re flustered you’re ESPECIALLY cute.”

“Oh yeah?” Phineas countered. “Well…uh….you’re always especially cute!!! So there!!”

Isabella slowed to a halt and tilted her head at him with a chuckle. “Wait….are you trying to one-up my flirting? Or…are you trying to fluster me?”

“…..mmmaybe?” Phineas replied hesitantly. “…why, is it working???”

Isabella considered his question, taking note of the cheerful warmth spinning in her chest (and likely reddening her face a bit).

“…maybe just a little.”

Phineas didn’t attempt to hide his excitement this time, pumping his fist in the air with a whispered, “YES!!!!”

He quickly regained his composure, though.

“Well it’s GOOD that it’s working, because if it wasn’t working, I’d have to remind you that your cuteness is a scientific fact.”

“BELIEVE me, I don’t think I’ll ever forget about that,” Isabella replied with a snicker. “That was the closest you ever got to calling me cute when we were kids.”

“Hey! The mere fact that I acknowledged your cuteness at all when we were kids is a testament to just how cute you are,” Phineas stated matter-of-factly. “Because, well…you might not have noticed this, but I was just a tad oblivious to romance when we were that age.”

Isabella feigned a gasp. “WHAT???? No way, I had no idea.”

“It’s true!!!!” Phineas insisted. “….just like your cuteness being a scientific fact is true.”

The two of them burst into giggles at that.

“You know…” Isabella pointed out with a wry smile, “…for someone who claims to be bad at flirting, that was some pretty good flirting.”

(She was quite impressed, actually!)

“Well, I’ve got someone incredibly special to flirt with,” Phineas replied cheekily. “I couldn’t have done it without her.”

Isabella’s eyes widened at that, cheeks flushing bright red (because PHINEAS WAS TALKING ABOUT HER!!!!! HE THOUGHT SHE WAS INCREDIBLY SPECIAL!!!!!), and Phineas grinned eagerly before placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning in to kiss her.

That seemed like the right course of action here, to follow up a jovial round of flirting with a kiss.

(And it was the right course of action, judging from the way Isabella smiled and kissed him back.)

Perhaps he was getting the hang of this whole relationship thing after all.

…

Isabella took a moment to catch her breath as Phineas gently pulled away from her and gave her the world’s most adorable smile (and to overcome the temptation to just forget about the crumb cake and indulge in more kisses instead).

“…alright,” she exhaled. “…as lovely and sweet as all this flirting has been, are you ready to go outside?”

“Oh, definitely!!!!” Phineas replied, taking a step back. “I mean, it feels like it’s been ages since we made this crumb cake, it’s about time we actually eat it. You go on outside, I’ll clean up a bit! Just in case Ferb and my parents get back while we’re out there.”

“Sounds good!!”

Phineas made his way to the living room a few minutes later….only to find Isabella standing in front of the screen door, a blank expression on her face.

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as he walked over to her. “I thought you were going to go outside.”

“Well…I was,” Isabella articulated slowly. “But….”

Her voice trailed off, and Phineas followed her gaze into the backyard as he finally came to a stop at her side.

“…..oh.”

The backyard was empty.

No stars.

No lanterns.

No light.

Even the picnic basket was gone.

All that remained was their blanket, still laid out beneath the tree, the only remnant of the last hour.

“Well.” Isabella cleared her throat. “I suppose we should’ve seen this coming, huh?”

Phineas didn’t respond, instead sliding the screen door open and stepping past Isabella and into the yard.

He just focused on walking, step by step by step. It was easy to keep his mind occupied with the mechanics of movement...that is, until he knelt beside the tree to collect the blanket.

Because tonight he’d had a second chance at a longer picnic with Isabella, which he’d initially chosen not to pursue when they were kids due to worries he hadn’t been able to explain back then...but the universe had taken that second chance away.

And now he had nothing tangible to express his affections to Isabella with. No inventions, no cozy sanctuaries for the two of them to snuggle up in, no physical manifestations of how much he loved her.

All he had was a blanket. Which hadn’t been enough to prolong their picnic when they were kids. And it hadn’t been enough now.

Their first moments as a couple were gone forever. He couldn’t get them back.

And this wasn’t the first time he’d built something for Isabella, only for it to disappear.

...why did it hurt even more now?

Was this going to be a normal occurrence for them? Phineas creating things, only for the world to irreverently take them away with no explanation as to why?

Because it was one thing to muse that kisses were as meaningful as big ideas while sharing a kiss with Isabella amidst one of said big ideas.

It was quite another to face Isabella without a big idea to prove the authenticity of his feelings.

And perhaps he could build something else right now, but….what would be the point?

A few tears stung at his eyes, throat burning and chest tight.

How could he build a relationship with Isabella if the world was just going to tear down his attempts to show her how much he cared?

“Gosh…it kinda feels like we’re kids again, huh?”

Phineas flinched as Isabella’s voice drew closer. He hugged the blanket to his chest as he stood, willing himself to not cry because he couldn’t cry, it would be silly to cry, all these thoughts of his were illogical. Isabella didn’t sound upset, and she hadn’t been upset when her birthday party disappeared all those years ago, she was fine, and this WAS a pretty regular occurrence for them in the grand scheme of things, so he needed to be okay. Plus, he KNEW she knew how much he loved her, he didn’t need inventions to tell her that but…..a part of him still hurt just the same.

“I mean, it genuinely takes me back! I feel like your mom’s about to offer us pie. And…..”

Isabella’s voice trailed off as she reached his side.

“Phineas?”

Phineas shut his eyes, but he could hear the rustle of grass as Isabella moved to stand in front of him.

“...Phineas, what’s wrong?”

Now her hands were on his shoulders.

He could’ve tried to pretend that nothing was wrong, to smile and laugh it off.

But...Isabella would probably see right through that.

And he was tired of keeping secrets from her, anyway.

“It’s just…..”

His lip quivered, and he sniffled before finally opening his eyes.

“....it’s gone. I planned everything and set up the picnic for you, so you’d know how much I care about you….but it’s gone…..and I wanted to keep spending time with you out here, at our picnic, because the last time we had a picnic it ended too soon and….I thought this time would be different, that we’d be able to end it on OUR terms and not because of it getting dark or anything. But it’s not. It’s like last time, and all the other times inventions disappeared before we were done with them and, I JUST!!!! I just….I’m sorry, Isabella….. I’m so sorry…..”

“Phineas Flynn. Look at me.”

Isabella took his face in her hands and gazed at him intently.

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s okay! These things happen! And we still have the memory of our picnic, right? Didn’t you say that memories are your favorite things we made when we were kids?”

Phineas pondered that for a moment.

“.…yes…” he finally whispered.

“This is the same,” Isabella insisted. “We’re building memories! The inventions may come and go, but the memories will stay. And I will stay. Believe me, if disappearing inventions bothered me, I wouldn’t be your best friend.”

She smirked a bit and added, “And I wouldn’t be your girlfriend now, obviously.”

“I know, and you’re right!” Phineas replied quickly. “….but…..I just…..I wanted to show you how much I love you, Isabella. That’s what the picnic was for, really. I mean, I know I TOLD you how much I love you too, but for me, it’s always been easier to say that kind of thing when I’ve got an invention to back my words up….I guess, it’s a little scary to say those things when it’s just me. You’re braver than me in that regard.”

“You HAVE shown me how much you love me, Phineas…” Isabella whispered, caressing his cheek with a gentle grin. “You’ve been showing me since we were kids. And, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t love you because of your inventions and big ideas. I love you because you’re YOU. You’re Phineas Flynn! The kindest, most creative, most caring person I’ve ever met!! Everything that makes you you shines through in all your inventions, they’re an extension of who you are; but they aren’t you, you know? If I had to choose between spending a day using one of your most amazing inventions alone OR spending an invention-free day with you doing something super boring, say, watching paint dry, I’d choose the invention free day every time. I just love spending time with you….”

She trailed one of her hands down his arm till it found one of his, twining their fingers together with a comforting squeeze.

“I’m sorry our picnic disappeared, though. It was important to us, and it’s okay to be sad about it. ...do you want to set up another one? I can make paper lanterns, and I’ve got to have a picnic basket at my house. And there’s plenty of stars in the sky if you don’t have any more to spare.”

Her offer lingered in the air for a handful of seconds, and she herself seemed posed on the tips of her toes, waiting for Phineas’s answer.

“….no…” Phineas finally whispered. “….it’s okay. I know we have homework to do, building another picnic would take too much time. ….and you’re right. Spending time together….that’s what really matters. And you being willing to rebuild our picnic means a lot to me.”

“You know I’d do anything for you,” Isabella replied with a gentle smile. “And we can just sit at the table, it’ll be like…an elevated picnic! With homework! So…an elevated study date picnic!”

She patted his cheek before withdrawing her hand from his face and turning towards the door.

But Phineas wasn’t ready to go inside just yet, wasn’t ready to put aside all the emotions tumbling around inside of him.

“Wait!”

Isabella whirled back around, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Yes, Phineas?”

Phineas took a deep breath.

How could he even express how he was feeling? How could he express his gratitude towards Isabella, express how loved and cherished she made him feel, express just how much her willingness to recreate their picnic meant to him?

“I…I just…...thank you, Isabella. So much.”

To punctuate his gratitude, he lifted the hand he held and pressed a tender kiss to Isabella’s knuckle.

“I’m really, just, so lucky. Lucky to be your friend, lucky to be your boyfriend…you know that, right?”

Butterflies whirled in Isabella’s stomach, stirred by the sincerity in Phineas’s voice and the warmth of his lips still lingering on her hand and the way he was looking at her.

She eased in closer, close enough to lay a reassuring hand on Phineas’s shoulder.

“…..we’re both lucky. Incredibly lucky.”

Phineas and Isabella weren’t sure who kissed who first. Perhaps neither of them kissed first, perhaps it was simultaneous, both of them knowing instinctively what the other wanted.

This kiss was different from their first, which had been a rush of new, giddy emotions, a celebration of their reciprocated feelings, the resolution to a lifetime (or, more specifically, nine chapters) of longing.

And it was different from the playful, giggly kisses they’d given one another inside.

It was slow, purposeful, intentional. A way to say thank you, for Phineas to convey to Isabella just how much he cherished her, and for Isabella to do the same for Phineas.

It wasn’t a happy kiss, necessarily. But it wasn’t sad either. They stood nestled within the complicated space between those emotions, mourning the loss of their picnic and summers gone by even as they celebrated them.

And though the ache in Phineas’s chest didn’t disappear completely, even after Isabella murmured a reassuring, “I love you...” against his mouth as she kissed him, it faded a little with every instant he spent close to her, memorizing the way her words felt and made him feel.

“I love you too.”

He loved her, he loved her, he loved her.

Ardently, incredibly, deeply so.

Perhaps someday, he’d find a way to express that love flawlessly, with an invention or words so breathtaking and perfect, he’d eliminate the ache, the feeling of misunderstanding, the disconnect between his affection and his ability to convey it, forever.

But for now. Beneath the stars…in this quiet, plain, utterly ordinary backyard…..Isabella seemed to understand well enough.

For now, just Phineas was enough for her.

And, though he hadn’t grasped it just yet (and perhaps wouldn’t fully grasp it for quite some time), just Phineas would always be enough for her.

…

Ferb spent the ride home from regionally-renowned restaurant The Boiling Pot trying not to laugh as his parents discussed how the complimentary breadsticks had tasted good but not great and how it sure was a shame that Phineas and Isabella hadn’t tagged along with them because they would’ve loved the fireworks! And where had those fireworks even come from, anyway? What did “Gitchee Gitchee Goo” mean?

Ferb, of course, knew Isabella and Phineas were likely getting along just fine on their own.

He also knew precisely where the fireworks had come from. And what they meant. (He was a founding member of Phineas and the Ferbtones, after all.)

But he wasn’t about to spill the beans to his parents: Isabella and Phineas would have that honor.

“Have you heard from Phineas at all?” Linda asked.

Ferb glanced down at his phone and cracked a smile while scrolling through the messages he’d sent to Phineas over the past hour.

Phineas hadn’t responded to any of them, which wouldn’t have been a surprise even if Ferb hadn’t known he was spending time with Isabella. His brother wasn’t the greatest at replying to messages that didn’t need replies, especially when he was attending to other matters.

“I have not. I’m sure he’s fine, though.”

Ferb had done his best to stall at the restaurant, to be quite indecisive about his order and insist on buying dessert and give Phineas and Isabella as much time alone together as possible to figure out their feelings (because it was Phineas and Isabella: they needed all the time they could get), but one could only prolong the inevitable for so long.

Thankfully, the inevitable was about to happen.

(Well. Technically the inevitable had likely already happened, considering the fireworks. But Ferb couldn’t be absolutely sure until he got home because, again: it was Phineas and Isabella.)

“I wonder what Phineas and Isabella have been up to…” Laurence mused as he pulled in the driveway.

Ferb stifled a snicker in his elbow.

“Probably smooching,” he thought. “Or having heartfelt conversations about their feelings. Or just being sappy and sweet. Actually, it’s likely a combination of the three.”

He sent a quick text reading, “We’re home!” to Phineas before climbing out the car and heading for the door.

(Just in case they were partaking in the first of his proposed activities.)

Fortunately, Phineas and Isabella were not, in fact, partaking in the first of his proposed activities.

…but Ferb was more than a little perplexed by what they were up to instead.

He found Isabella and Phineas huddled over a textbook, graph paper, and calculators at the kitchen table, with an empty plate and two forks strewn off to the side.

Ferb’s eyebrows furrowed at the sight, confusion and apprehension prickling at his gut….because all of this seemed suspiciously platonic.

Sure, his brother and neighbor were seated QUITE close to one another. And the single plate and two forks seemed to indicate they’d shared food.

Both of those activities could be interpreted as romantic.

But they could also be interpreted as totally platonic (or, well, “totally platonic” in Phineas and Isabella’s case).

And Ferb also couldn’t be sure Isabella had seen the fireworks. Maybe they’d gone off too soon. Or too late. Maybe she’d been inside while they went off. Or asleep. Anything was possible in Danville.

Thus, Ferb couldn’t be absolutely, assuredly sure Phineas and Isabella were officially together until they told him. Or he asked them.

But he knew he shouldn’t just ask them, because if they hadn’t figured things out yet, asking them would just ruin the surprise and the four years he’d spent in silence about their mutual feelings would be for naught and HE WAS INCREDIBLY TIRED OF ALL THESE SECRETS—

“Woah! Hey, Ferb!!! I didn’t even hear you walk in the door!! How was the restaurant? .…and….how long have you been standing there?”

Phineas’s words rang hollow in Ferb’s head. He only barely comprehended his brother’s final sentence.

“….long enough to wonder whether you two have finally figured things out….” he muttered.

“OH! We sure did!!!” Phineas replied eagerly.

He gestured to a particularly complex-looking equation and continued, “This problem right here stumped us for awhile, but Isabella finally figured out we have to use the general Leibniz rule to solve it!!!! Honestly I can’t believe I didn’t think of that sooner, though I guess my brain has been a little preoccupied tonight…”

Ferb was going to fall over. He was going to fall over and then stand back up and grab a pillow and wack Phineas over the head with it because HE’D HAD AN ENTIRE ROMANTIC PICNIC AND FIREWORKS AND CONFESSION PLAN AT HIS DISPOSAL, HOW COULD HE BE TALKING ABOUT CALCULUS RIGHT NOW???? HOW HAD HE AND ISABELLA NOT FIGURED THINGS OUT YET??????

Isabella, meanwhile, glanced between Ferb (who looked about ready to snap something in half) and Phineas (who seemed blissfully unaware of that) before giggling. She placed a hand on Phineas’s shoulder and patted it gently, prompting him to look back at her.

“Phineas, sweetheart,” she voiced matter-of-factly, “I think Ferb is trying to ask if we started dating.”

She turned to Ferb and brightly added, “We DID start dating, by the way!!!!”

“Oh!!! Right!!”

(Phineas felt a little silly for not grasping that on his own, but it was alright.)

“Yeah, we started dating!!! Surprise!!”

And just like that. Relief. A mountain’s worth of pressure, over a DECADE’S worth of pressure, lifted from Ferb’s shoulders.

He sank into a chair opposite the happy couple and exhaled.

“….oh thank the stars.”

…

At last….Ferb can rest 😌.

ALSO MASSIVE SHOUT OUT TO MY BETA FOR COMING UP WITH “THE BOILING POT”!!!! I wanted to make a pun based off “The Boiling Isles” for the restaurant name (any Owl House fans here? 👀), and she came up with that and a couple other options and I LOVE HER THANK YOU FRIEND.

I sincerely hope you all enjoyed this chapter!! (And I sincerely hope the next update doesn’t take so long😅. But no promises, lol!) The end of the story is in sight…might take a couple more chapters to get there, but WE WILL GET THERE👏

As always, comments/reblogs/tags/likes are very much appreciated 😊💕

EDIT: OH ALSO!!!!! I owe a massive shout-out to @palizinhas. They write FANTASTIC Phinbella fic, and their story “Another Plan” inspired me to add the hurt/comfort scene into this chapter (I’d previously written it and decided to cut it).

#It’s been so long since i formatted a fic chapter for tumblr it feels weird #Not bad weird #But #weird #lol #anyway! Thanks for reading!!!#Chfil #Can’t help falling in love #Phineas and ferb #phinabella #phinbella #phineas flynn #isabella garcia shapiro #cadence writes #pnf fic

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