#conducted by—you guessed it—a middle aged woman with short hair and glasses

[theresa-of-liechtenstein]

doing my part to combat the culture of taking photos of people without their consent by drawing cartoons from memory

[cynthiyaayaana]

Bullets and Pollen.

Hey!! This is a story I had written long before but never had the courage to post until now. I came across this very interesting writing prompt on tumblr and just had to write something on it. Any kind of appreciation or constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy!! 

Ayanna found herself in a flower shop that was very conveniently located a few blocks away from the cemetery. It was more like a meadow enclosed in the tall glass windows that displayed a vibgyor of flowers. The odor of flowers was like a thick perfumed layer that engulfed everything in the shop. It was uncomfortably congested. She wondered how the fragile flowers were able to bear its immensity which was almost overpowering her.

The sunlight bounced off each petal reflecting its colors like a prism capturing light and releasing a rainbow. She was tempted to catch it but obviously they were intangible. She therefore reconciled with touching the soft velvety petals of the orchids that stood arrogantly in the confines of their plastic buckets. There long stalk upholding the delicate white blooms like the slender neck of a swan supporting a snappy mouth.

The clear ringing of the bells alerted the intrusion of another customer. She turned around to see the culprit who had disrupted the quaint solitude of the ambience. Her complaint disappeared as soon as she thought it. The man standing in front her stood out in his black attire like death in the Garden of Eden. Before she had time to register his appearance accurately he strode towards her with quick but calculated steps. She realized the answer to her question was hazel but now they appeared murky green because of the sun rays they took hostage.

 In one swift movement he took out his bulky wallet and slapped a few crumpled bills on the counter. She flinched as his hands dropped on the teak table’s sleek surface with a loud thud. He gritted his teeth and flexed his jaws agitatedly, emitting a sickening sound of bones cracking. Although his attempt to control his temper was admirable, she was afraid that he would pop a vein any minute now.

 “Excuse me…” She was rudely interrupted as he jeered at her for some unknown reason. She had to confess as terrifying and alarmingly red the visage of this stranger was, she was thoroughly entertained by his attempt to restrain his fury. She only hoped she didn’t offend him any further by losing her self-control. Unfortunately, she slipped when she heard the next sentence that he spoke.

“How do I passive aggressively say ‘fuck you’ in flowers?”

 Ayanna coughed to suppress her laughter. This was by far the most noteworthy conversation starter she had ever heard. Although she should have rectified his misunderstanding, she stood rooted in her spot, looking at this inhumanly tall and infuriated man who wanted flowers to translate an extremely hackneyed and handy insult like ‘fuck you’.

 Flowers!

She should have been cowering at the mere size of this man and also the way he had “bloody murder” written all over his rugged face. It didn’t require a keen observer to see how positively threatening he was in the way he carried himself. He radiated danger and not in the ‘what-you-read –in-a-dark-romance kind of way’. It was more like a ‘cross-me-and-I-will-not-hesitate-to-cut-you’ vibe he gave off. If they had been out in the streets or in some dingy warehouse, in this small proximity, she would definitely be fearful for her dear life.

 However, the fact that he had just entered a flower shop and asked for flowers to express his aversion for someone or something made it hard for her to feel intimidated by him. This was an interesting and obscure way of looking at flora. Like a blunt expression of disdain. It did trigger her imagination and help her writers block that had led her here in the first place.

Weren’t flowers and tacky bouquets used by unfaithful husbands to give their naïve wives to convince them of their deceitful affections? Isn’t it supposed to disguise the smell of musk cologne and infidelity?  And eventually end up in the trash the following week when the flowers were dead and smelt like decay?

 A bad habit instantaneously made her concoct how she could include this plot and this sample of character into the bulk of paper and fiction she was working on. It would make great material for a romance but that’s too predictable. Maybe a crime fiction. Where the antagonist leaves behind clues of his felony in a cryptic language of flowers. Perhaps something more brooding and introspective. The possibilities were endless. She must have zoned out because the facial expressions of her envisioned muse was getting more agitated and distorted with each passing second.

 “Nevermi…”

 Before he could wave his hand in dismissal, she stood to her full diminutive height, solemnly perched her black rimmed glasses on the bridge of her nose and bustled around the shop collecting stalks of flowers and commenting in a very proper voice like she would if she actually was a florist.

 “What you need is a bouquet with geraniums signifying idiocy, foxgloves for dishonesty, meadowsweet for incompetence, yellow carnations meaning disappointment and finally orange lilies for unadulterated hatred. It would be quiet remarkable. And full of repugnance.”

 She bundled them together between her nimble thumb and forefingers, looked at the oppressively colorful bunch and brought it to him for scrutiny. He cocked his dark eyebrow and looked down at her scrawny stature and then at the chaotic assortment of flowers.  He had to admit it looked quiet hideous with its harsh dyes and mismatched contours. And totally unsuitable for the girl’s dainty hands.

Weren’t florist supposed to have arduous hands? Their nails short and their nailbeds caked with brown dirt and green stuff? These manicured hands looked like they couldn’t bear the weight of a coffee cup. They could barely keep the bouquet from falling apart. They were so small and fragile and looked so soft. He could hardly believe she did anything at all with those hands let alone cut and tame stems with rebellious thorns. The fact that she was dressed in a casual white shirt and black ripped jeans with a worn-out leather bag dangling from her frail shoulders and not a soiled apron confirmed his suspicion.

 “Here is your ‘bundle of loathing’.”  She handed it to him with extra caution. Obviously she wasn’t a professional florist. No professional florist talks like that.

 He looked at her and then at the unassembled flowers as confusion took over his dark features. Not because he had finally realized that he had made a mistake. No that bit was as clear as day to him.

 He was perplexed as to why she had helped him when she didn’t need to? Moreover, how did she know exactly what he wanted? Was she spying on him? Was she she sent for him?

 “You didn’t give me a chance to explain myself” She said in her soft voice as if she sensed his unspoken question.

 His unfaltering stare never left her. She squirmed self-consciously under his gaze and lowered her eyes to stare at her sensible flats. The change in her demeanor eased him a little. He wasn’t looking forward to conducting an interrogation in the middle of a god- forsaken flower-shop. He also didn’t want to go around terrorizing unassuming civilians, especially the pretty ones. Besides she had piqued his curiosity when she went about the shop cataloging flowers for his “bundle of loathing”.

 “You seem to know a lot about flowers.” His voice was in sharp contrast to the dreadful glare he was directing at her moments ago.

She looked at him with smile bordering between relief and wariness. Before he could here an answer they were interrupted by an aged voice of a woman. A tuff of grey hair emerged from the interiors of the shop.

 “Here is your bouquet, child.” The elderly owner finally came out with her flowers and Ayanna was grateful for the interruption. She nodded slightly at her, relieved for the intrusion.

 He vaguely entertained the idea of going after her as she scurried out of the modest store with hasty steps but decided against it. He was a busy man.  He had more important matters to take care of before thinking about enchanting some stranger who had impressed him with her off-handed knowledge in horticulture. The most urgent undertaking right now was to deliver the bouquet to the person who deserved it. Then, as per protocol, he had to notify them, with utmost patience, what they had done to deserve it. And consequently, give them a forewarning and a suitable penalty for their offensive conduct.

 “How can I help you, Sir?”. The elderly lady asked the man who was holding the green stalks of flowers in his hands tenderly. One would have never guessed these were lethal.

 “Please wrap these flowers for me” He politely asked the elderly shopkeeper. He didn’t mind her ignorance.

“Is it for someone special?” The lady smiled warmly like clueless old ladies often do.

 He could feel his lips forming a sick conniving smirk.

 “Very special.”

[justoneday-namjoonii]

Color me moonlight. II

☾ • I • II • III • IV • V • VI • VII ☽

› Summary: Some flowers are not to be plucked, for their thorns are far too sharp for any hand to graze, yet, she was touched. She was soft, fragile, she didn’t know it, but something that beautiful could never be bad. You grew up in a garden of loneliness, do you have a place to bloom? It’s alright, I’ll give you a place and we can bloom together.

› pairing: Taehyung x reader/OC › genre: angst | m | fluff | sci-fi au | supernatural!au | mutant!au | hybrid!au |

a/n: thank you for all of the love part 1 received! I was really happy to see that some of you are following this story(im personally loving it myself). If there are any questions at all, don’t hesistate to send in an ask! Your feed back is more than welcomed ♥♥

April 7th, 1988.

“Jane Sato, date of Biological Alteration and Repair test run, April 7th, 1988. Time, 1:07 Pm. Subject 1010; 20 years of age, male, 129 lb, 5′9. Biochemistry, molecular biology, bioinformatics, DNA-Polymerase, chromosomal translocation, and genetic isolates are among the primary research conducted for the operation. The patient’s condition of severe cell degeneration, Sickle-cell disease, and genetic malformations —” She paused, the recorders red light still on, “— compatible with all inquiries of biogenetic mutation and enhancement. Surgery will commence accompanied by surgeons, Jackson Blanchard, Stephanie Liu, Hanz Fai, and surgical nurse Joyce Brown. Surgery will now begin.” 

The scientists and doctors in the facility watched from the viewing room, standing right at the glass so they wouldn���t miss a thing. Her personal favorite, clair de lune, was the last song on the playlist in the background. After roughly 7 hours, the operation was complete.

“Alright,” She inspected with work they had done over several hours. The surgical mask, gown, and gloves were beginning to become a part of her from how long she had them on, “stitch him up.” 

She went to the sink in the back where she had left the recorder and thrown her gloves away.

“7:40 PM. The operation was successful. All vital signs are normal and patient 1010-FS is expected to recover well.” 

She washed up before greeting the group of eager professionals who came to witness history. She clears her throat. “Alright, questions?”

‘I have a question doctor. Last month, you discussed the possibility of a program dedicated to your research, can you tell us more about that?’

She nods. “Yes. I‘ve served the Medical Science Advisory for three years now and since the opening of the SRMA Facility, I’ve come far with my research. Starting next year, my program will start.”

“What does the program entail exactly?”

“First, 120 volunteers from all over the country will take part in the experimentation. I won’t reveal everything but I will say this, the participants will undergo extreme DNA modifications and molecular mutation on a supernatural level.”

***

October 19th, 1992. 4 years post-program.

The program commenced in 1989 and experimentations took place at the Science-Medical Facility. Just as she planned, 120 participants were under intensive study and experimentation. More volunteers came from all over, ranging from ages 10 to 30, per Dr. Sato’s request. Recently, Sato had begun to categorize the most and least successful cross-studies. The 4% of experiments with the M2-gene were separated to undergo intensive modification.

“Jane.”

“Yes?” She measured the potent liquid, one drop more and it would kill the receiver.

“Patient 1072.” Her assistant, Diana, placed the clipboard in on the doctor’s work table. “She’s been showing a lot of physical and behavioral progress.”

“1072, she’s in the lower level group, yeah? That’s good” Sato flipped through a book, her gaze softening. “Look at this, in 1973 in the United Kingdom, this poor thing was born with Tay-Sachs disease. She had seizures, vision and hearing loss, intellectual disability, and paralysis and she died at the age of 3.” She sighed. “I could have saved that girl and given her a life without pain and suffering. Those doctors didn’t know what they were doing...that’s why she died.”

Diana cleared her throat, nodding as she waits for the doctor to notice that she came here for something else.

“I’m sorry, what about 1072?”

“Oh, she’s receiving the DNA modification well, I think she can join the 4%.”

“Let me have a look-”

The facility speakers blared.

Dr. Sato to room B012.

“I guess I’ll have to wait.” Sato slipped her reading glasses off and made her way to the elevator so she could get to the 9th floor.

“Doctor, thank God.” Blanchard was standing in front of the patient's room with a few of their colleagues.

“What’s going on?”

“The experiment, he’s developed his first sign of mutation. His body is still weak but he has physical changes, you’d be amazed.” Her eyes brightened, this was her favorite part of the program, witnessing the changes. “We’ve watched him for 4 hours straight and well- You have to see him yourself.”

“Show me.”

He opened the door and let her walk in by herself, the boy sat up on the bed, seemingly normal aside from his extreme lack of pigment in his eyes, they looked translucent, almost pale. That was new. She approached him.

“Touch my hand.” She spoke, waiting for him to do it. “Go on, it’s okay.” He slowly reached his hand to place it on hers. Warm, his hand was warm and she felt a pang of heat in her chest, he winced, retreating his hand immediately.

“You’re coming along great.” She insisted. “Get some rest and you’ll get your medicine shortly.” She left the boy to sit in the room.

“Did you see it, doctor?”

“Yes. Continue testing and make a date for his procedure.” She instructed and he nodded. She was about to walk down the hall but she paused. “Oh, and move him up to the 4%.”

“Stupid earrings!” You kick the side of your vanity, instantly regretting it when a surge of pain went up to your leg.

The only pair of diamond earrings you owned were missing and you had 10 minutes to get to the subway or bus for the North Heights. Half of your hair was okay while the other side looked like a mangled up tumbleweed. You got the sleeve of your blouse caught in the bleach water for dishes so you had to change for the third time. This morning was starting off pretty rough. 

Margaret never specified a time until 6 o’clock this morning. She said Mr. Kim has appointments all day after 9 so, ‘Be here by 7:30.’ You live a half-hour away, and that’s when the bus isn’t late or if you catch a taxi on a good day. It was currently 6:47 and you were vigorously passing a comb through your hair. At this point, it doesn’t even matter if you look like Synthia from the Rugrats, you had to get out of here. You grabbed a ponytail holder and tied it up, at least you had somewhat of a presentable style now. Your little skirt and top would have to work with a pair of flats because there is no way you’re running around this city in heels today. 

“How is it 7 already!?” You glanced at the microwave clock and cursed it for mocking you. The yogurt you attempted to eat would have to wait until you come back. You threw your bag onto your shoulder and bolted out of the door.

You ran down the few flights of stairs, stopping in front of the complex and holding your cell phone in your hand to search the bus and subway schedule. “Off of Miller and Maine- Departed?!- That’s it, the world has it out for me.”

The subway was too far of a walk and the 7 o'clock bus just left, there is no way you’re gonna get there before 7:45. “Why...” You looked around, about to wave down a taxi when a man in a tapped your shoulder. “Taxi!-”

“Excuse me, Miss?” 

“Yes?” You furrowed your brows, wondering what this older fellow might want that apparently can’t wait. 

“Are you Y/f/n?” You noticed the gentlemen wore a black chauffeur hat and uniform.

“Yes, can I help you, sir?- Wait, how do you know my name?” You gave him a suspicious expression.

“I am your driver for this morning ma’am, Bernard Shelton. Mr. Kim sent a car for you. I knocked on your apartment door but you must not have heard me. He requested that I apologize on is behalf for the short notice.” You looked past him to see a black luxury vehicle with tents that might as well have been a black hole. “Are you ready to go?”

“Um,” You didn’t know if you could trust this guy, despite his convincing attire and professional mannerisms. “I’m sorry but how do I know Mr. Kim sent you? I mean, wouldn’t he have his secretary tell me this?”

“Would you like to contact Ms. Gough for verification? We’re already running late and Mr. Kim has appointments all day after 9 o’clock. We really must be going, ma’am.” You glanced at your watch, it was 7:09, this is your best bet.

“Alright...” With hopes that you weren’t getting kidnapped, you followed him in the car and sat anxiously in the backseat. Your fingers grazed the flawless interior, making you wonder why a car of this prowess came to pick you up. Upon request of the CEO at that.

“We’re here ma’am, with one minute to spare.” He smiled, stopping you in front of the huge skyscraper in the middle of the fine part of the city. 

“Thank you.” You hopped out of the car and made your way inside. The lobby was far more beautiful than the one at your office. There were sparkling light fixtures, expensive paintings gracing to tall walls and you found your self-walking towards the front desk slower than you should have.

“Hello, I have an appointment with Mr. Kim at 7:30.”

The woman looked through her computer and she couldn’t hide the judgments glint in her eye when she looked at you. “Your name?”

“Y/n.” 

She picked up the black corded phone. “Margeret, I have a Y/n here to see Mr. Kim, would you like me to send her up?” A few seconds went by and she nodded. “Alright, I'll send her up.” She put the phone back on the hook. “You can go ahead. Top floor, directly in front of you when you exit the elevator, his secretary is to the right of his office.”

“Thank you.” Quickly, you went to the elevator and took it straight up to the top floor. A light ‘ding’ noise and you were let out on the quiet floor, not a single soul making a sound on the pristine floor.

“Excuse me,” You walked up to the desk that said ‘Margeret Gough.’ “Ms. Gough?”

“You’re here.” She had a kind smile. “He’s waiting for you, he just got off of his first-morning call. One moment,” She pressed a red button on the phone hook, “you’re 7:30 is here sir, should I send her in now?” She was talking to Taehyung.

“Yes, you can send her in.” 

Your courage started to falter when you heard his voice, now you were really, really nervous. But now is not the time to be timid—you have to hold your head high and walk in there with confidence.

“Okay, sir.” A beep signaled that he turned off the phone. “Go on ahead.” She gestured to the door, a kind simper beckoning you to go in. “No need to be nervous, Mr. Kim is in a very good mood this morning.” She giggled, a grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Just breathe...” You mumbled, slowly pushing open one of the two tall double doors at the end of the hall. 

Your eyes met him instantly as he stood in front of the window the covered the entire wall. The view was ridiculous.

His eyes widened upon your entrance. “Good morning.” He smiled a bit, one hand on a coffee mug while the other rested in his pocket. The dainty necklace with a tiny diamond on the end of it brought his attention to the v neck of your camel-colored blouse. 

“Good morning, Mr. Kim.” You brought a had to the side of your neck briefly and that small movement prompted his eyes to find the soft indent of your collarbones.

He cleared his throat. “I apologize for this being so short notice, I hope it’s not too much of an inconvenience for you.” By the time he walked over to the gesture that you sit, you had already made yourself comfortable in the small leather chair in front of his desk. 

“Don’t worry about it. Thank you for sending the car, by the way, you really didn’t have to do that.” It was a kind gesture but you didn’t feel it was necessary.

“No, it was the least I could do. Last night, I remembered I had these meetings to do and I couldn’t help but want to do one with you since we talked last night.” He sipped his coffee. “So, I asked Margeret to contact you.” He swiveled his chair a bit. “I guess we should get right into it then, yeah?”

“What is it, exactly?”

“Just reviewing company regulations, how you think your locations management is, things like that...” He laid a sheet of paper with a bunch of questions and long black lines, right in front of you. “Would you fill that out? It’s like a survey, a business owner seminar suggested I get to know the business and this was one way to do it.”

“Alright...” You did what you had to do, writing simple answers to questions like, ‘how does your management treat you? Do you feel like an important part of the team?’ Important? Eh, sure, you thought, trying to compile meaningful sentences. After five minutes or so, you were on the very last question and before your pen touched the paper, you froze. “D-did you say something?” 

The confusion on his face probably meant no. “No.” 

“Oh, sorry, I thought I heard something...” You bashfully went back to the paper, quickly scribbling down an answer before setting the pen back in the pen holder. “I’m done.”

“Great. So, how did you feel about the survey? Margeret made the questions with her assistant, she said this would be a good way to see how the employees feel about the company. It wasn’t too boring I hope.”

“It was fine,” It was a generic survey. 

“Let me ask you, do you feel like a valued employee?” The question was pretty simple, but you found yourself scrambling for a response that clearly expressed how you felt.

“Valued? Um...” This was going to sound pessimistic but oh well. “Well, if I quit today and someone gets hired to take my job tomorrow, does that change your profits in any way?” He assumed it was a rhetorical question. “No, I don’t think it does. So how important could I be to you? Sure, I think I’m valued but I see it this way, there’s a job that needs to be done and I’m just the person who does it, no one too special...” He had never heard such an unenthusiastic statement from an employee before, he always viewed his father's company as one big family but based on what you were saying, it wasn’t as family-oriented as he believed. 

“I’m sorry, that sounds kind of negative, doesn’t it?” His silence made you realize that what you said was probably the last thing a boss wanted to hear. “I don’t hate my job, I just don’t see the point in fabricating anything, Mr. Kim. Your company is great and all, but for me, it’s just a job that helps support me...”

“Well,” Your eyes followed him as he walked to the cute little coffee maker to fill up his mug again, “is there anything I can do to make your job more enjoyable? I don’t want you to feel like you’re a machine in a factory, you are an important member of this company. I mean that.” 

“Look,” You sighed, standing up from your chair to walk near the window, taking this opportunity to appreciate the cities beauty from a bird's eye view, “I chose to work for you because it’s a reputable company and your cameras are nice.” When you glanced at him, he saw your real smile for the first time, your teeth showing and everything. Sadly, you shielded it from his sight as he approached you. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re doing a good job with this whole CEO thing, in my professional opinion at least.” You smiled, he deserved some type of praise for reaching out to his people like this.

“Thank you, that means a lot.” The urge to walk up to you and tangle his finger in the stray strand of hair in your ponytail but he resisted. “You know, because of you, we discontinued Model 0XHS-5D.”

He was standing beside you now. “Really?”

“Yes, and it has impacted sales positively. We cut off the manufacture and it shows in the stock market, all because of you Y/n.” 

“Oh, that’s good, I’m glad I could be of some assistance...” When you sensed him trying to stand a bit too close for comfort, you walked back to your seat. The lack of sleep was kicking in because you found yourself leaning against the side of the chair with your forearm—and the coffee in his hand smelled like heaven. He followed you, taking his previous position in his chair.

“I like the idea of...I don’t know, talking to someone I already know, it’s refreshing.” 

“With all due respect sir, you don’t really know me.” The coo in your voice wasn’t intentional but you were just being honest. “Sure, we talked at the party and last night, but other than that...We’re strangers.” You trailed off, not really sure how you were supposed to end that statement.

“Y/n.” He breathed, thinking he may as well just outright say it—it would happen eventually. “Would you join me for lunch? My lunch appointment canceled before you came, so I have a reservation that I don’t have to cancel if you join me.” 

Lunch? That was the last thing you were expecting to hear this morning. His eyes seemed to latch onto you and refuse to let you go until you answered his question.

“L-lunch? I appreciate the offer but...” You swallowed, for a split second, you considered taking him up on the offer but you quickly dismissed the preposterous idea. I can’t do that, he’s my boss. “But I can’t, I have to get back to work, it’s already past 8 and I- I don’t think that’s the best idea given I kinda work for you...” 

“Work’s not a problem, I gave all survey participants the day off anyway. A 12:30 lunch is more than appropriate for our relationship I think...” Eager, that’s what he probably looked like, but the desperation to get near you was hard to ignore. That same way you looked on the terrace at the party, you still looked that way and he couldn’t just disregard it. 

You locked eyes with him—tempting, very much so, but no. Absolutely not.

“I’m sorry,” You stood to your feet and he followed suit, standing much taller than you, especially without your trusty high heels on. “but I can’t.” 

Any hopes of a day accompanied by you came crashing down as you politely rejected him. The only person he wanted to dine with at that restaurant didn’t want anything to do with him. The way you nibbled on your bottom lip implied that you were starting to feel uncomfortable. He took a small step back, you were dying to get out of here and he was perplexed onto why.

A beep interrupted you, it was Margeret.

“Your 8:30 is here, should I send them in?”

He was quiet, still peering at you as if it would change your final answer. Sadly for him, it did nothing for his cause...

He pressed the button on the phone base. “Give me one moment.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be going now-” You tried to gather your purse and get out of dodge but he stopped you.

“No wait, take this.” He grabbed a business card and wrote a string of numbers and words on it. “This is my personal cell.” He handed it to you. “With this number, I’m Taehyung, not Mr. Kim. So, if you feel more comfortable going to lunch with him,” He smiled halfheartedly. “he’ll be there.”

“Alright...” You tucked it into your purse and bowed respectfully before turning your back to leave.

“Do you like jazz or classical music?”

You paused, you weren’t expecting such a question. “Um, I enjoy both. Why?” 

There was an itch at the back of his neck and he satisfied the nuisance with the tip of his index finger. “I thought maybe that was why we ended up at that cafe last night, a common interest.” 

“Yeah, maybe...” You mumbled, turning around to continue your path out the door.

Meeting with Taehyung wasn’t so bad after all, you scored a day off. You took it upon yourself to get a few things done and spend a little time with one of your only friends. He was being currently studying medicine, technology, science - things like that. He offered to come to your favorite cafe to study with you and a few minutes ago, his lab partner joined you two. The bug seemed to have gotten to them too...

The cafe had the news on in the background and they were playing the same news bit from last night which led Hoseok to strike up a conversation with the lab girl he’s always with.

“What do you think about the 1989 Project? Does your supervising physician ever talk about it? Especially since the media won’t shut up about it.” Hoseok, your good friend for a few years now met you at the cafe so you could catch up on your language studies. 

“She’s mentioned it a few times but I try not to ask about it.” Wendy decided to join you two as well, she and Hoseok were going to school for the same thing so they often studied together.

“What do you think about it Y/n?” Hoseok looked to you. Given you were really into that whole medical and technology thing, you wondered why he had to ask.

“Um,”  You took out one earbud, “I don’t know, it’s interesting I guess.” Assuming he was going to continue talking, you kept the earbud out. 

“I used to think that the Zoe Hawn case was always so freaky, it’s one of the reasons I’m studying at the SRMA Facility, I want to be a part of something that’ll do some good. Crossbreeds, crosses, hybrids- Whatever they're called, I know for a fact that there are experiments still at the laboratory.”

Wendy crooked a brow. “How would you know that?”

“I’m an intern at the facility, I listen in on the scientists and doctors sometimes. There’s a floor that you have to have level five clearance to be on and I’ve peeked in a few times.” You remembered you had a medical and scientific savvy best friends who would never drop the conversation.

Wendy chimed in. “Yeah, I’ve never seen the patients in there, they say some of them look like everyday people, others -- not so much. I wonder if there are even patients in there, it might just be something else.” 

“Interesting...” It had been some time since you left Taehyungs office and you rubbed the business card between your fingers, staring down at the numbers and restaurant name. “Pain Grillé...” You whispered the name to yourself, you had seen that place before, your co-workers often mentioned the fancy place—maybe going wouldn’t be so bad...

“What was that?” Wendy tilted her head, her honey blonde hair shifting on her shoulders.

“Oh, nothing...” Nothing you wanted to discuss with them.

Hoseok smirked. “What’s that in your hand? You’ve been staring at it every few minutes now, is it a love note from an admirer or something?” He teases, the blush on your cheeks and the knitting of your brows only made your reaction all the more amusing

“No, dummy.” You kicked his foot. “It’s not a love note. I was asked to lunch and the name of the restaurant is on this card.”

“So, why are you here?”

“Because I’m not going.” That card was dropped back into your purse, you regretted taking it out in the first place.

“Why not? Lunch at Pain Grille sounds great -- and expensive.” He wondered, what special person wanted to take you there?

“I just rather not, that’s all.” It’s time for a subject change, “I have to go, I’m dog walking all evening so...” You grabbed your notebook and put the rest of your things in your tote. “Bye guys.”

Mr. and Mrs. Lafonso asked you to walk and feed their Pomeranian while they’re out and that’s what you were doing. Dog walking on the side is way underrated, it was what you did when you first moved out here to earn some extra cash. It was sort of a depressing time in your life, you lived in a tiny hotel and worked in a diner until you could save enough to find your own place. Living on your own wasn’t easy at first—a young 18-year-old that was struggling to get by in the big city with a few hundred dollars or so and a heavy suitcase. You got offers from guys to be their sugar-babies and if you were honest, you considered it a few times, the check from your part-time jobs looked like chump change in comparison to the money those guys were offering you. You didn’t have much but you had dignity and morality, no amount of money could take that away. And that’s what kept you going, you knew you could to make it and you did, all by yourself.

“Ugh...” It was beginning to drizzle and you were about to walk down to get to the subway station but you stopped, Pain Grillé. Kim Taehyung could be seen through the window, sitting at the table alone as the swoon waiter brought him a glass of wine.

The grumble of your stomach indicated that it was a marvelous idea—darn your appetite. You turned around and strolled across the street to get to the restaurant, your actually about to do this. When you walked inside, the lump in your throat was stopping you from speaking to the hostess at the desk.

“Good afternoon ma’am, can I help you?” She was a sweet lady, beckoning you to come to her.

“Oh,” Clearing your throat, you smiled, “I’m meeting Kim Tae-”

“Oh, you’re her!” She sounded a bit flustered like she knew you were coming but forgot. “I’m so sorry ma’am, I’ll get you seated, right this way.” She grabbed a menu and urged you to follow.

Her? 

“Mr. Kim said he was expecting a special guest, he told me to make sure I bring you over myself. I’m the owner, Audrey. He loves this place, comes here for all of his special lunch appointments.” Her jaw-length bob bounced as she walked you through the busy restaurant. When he looked up from his phone and saw you, one would think you two were pretty close because of his childishly wide smile. I knew she would come... 

“Here you are! Your waiter will be over shortly. Enjoy!” With that, she was gone, and you both stood there.

“You came...” He beamed, still in awe that you took him up on his offer. You were about to speak as you reached to pull out your chair. “Yeah, I-”

“Wait, let me get that for you.” He rushed to the chair to pull it out for you.

“Thank you...” You shuffled the chair forward, now you were a few inches away from the pristine white tablecloth. 

“No, thank you for joining me, for a moment there I thought you wouldn’t show up.” He took his wine glass, sipping it briefly. Unbeknownst to him, it was sheer coincidence that led you here.

“Oh? Well, here I am...” You scanned the menu slightly as you glanced up at him. 

You don’t mind a little wine with your lunch, do you? They have wines that pair beautifully with every meal, I’ve tried the whole menu. I went with a Muscadet today, easy-drinking in my opinion.” He would have a knowledgeable understanding of wines, why wouldn’t he? 

“I don’t mind, I enjoy a glass every so often.” Maybe a few times a month -- week.

The corner of his lips “So-”

“Good afternoon ma’am, can I get you started with something to drink?” The waiter asked and Taehyung glanced at him with an impatient glint, he was interrupting something.

“I’ll have a Mascoto please.” You thanked the waiter as he went off to get your sweet bubbly beverage. Day-drinking—I guess, when in Rome do as the Romans, you thought to yourself.

“Good choice.” He bit his lip, his tongue peeking out to run over his lips in a tantalizing way. Out of habit, he tapped his fingers on the table. “I admit that I’m probably coming on a bit strong, yeah?” You nodded. “I don’t mean to come after you, I genuinely just want to get to know you...”

He’s still on that. “Sir-”

“Taehyung...” He reminded you. “Call me Taehyung, please.” That smirk—God, why is he smirking at me like that?

“Taehyung,” You emphasized the call of his name, “I’m flattered but I’m no different from anybody else...” Thank goodness the waiter brought your wine to you, you needed it right about now. “I’m sure there are plenty of women who have extravagant lives they can tell you about over lunch, why me?” You scoffed bitterly. “It doesn’t add up to me-”

“I don’t want to know just any of those women, I want to know you.” He countered. “That whole ‘there’s nothing to know about me’ act, I just don’t believe it, everybody has a story.” 

“I don’t.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you almost look believable when you lie?”

You choked mid-sip. “Excuse me?-”

“Are you two ready to order?”

He was starting to spite this waiter. “Uh, yes, I’ll have my usual, what about you, love?” He was looking at you.

Still taken aback by his statement, you ordered. “I’ll have the chicken marsala with a side salad, please.” He nodded, taking the menus away to leave you two alone. You glared at him. “Lie? What makes you think-” He cut you off.

“If you don’t mind me asking, are you close with your family?” That was a personal question that you weren’t expecting to have to answer today. 

“You expect me to answer your questions after you called me a liar?” You scoffed. “I don’t think so...” 

He sighed, not breaking eye contact in the slightest as he sipped his wine. “Is there anyone, anyone at all, a mother, sister, friend, anyone you’re really close with? Anyone you can share your heart with, talk about difficult things with. You seem like the loner type...”

“It doesn’t matter.” You quipped rather defensively. “I don’t really need anyone to talk to, I’m doing fine on my own. As far as my family goes, well, I’m not a representation of my family, I’m just me...”

“So you’re not close to your parents?” He tilted his head curiously. You gazed down at your silver fork, solemnly—you never talk about stuff like this. 

“No...” You uttered lowly, not liking where he was going with the invasive questions. “They died when I was a newborn, I was adopted by my uncles family...” 

“Oh...” He felt bad for asking now. “I’m sorry to hear that,” You flinched, he cupped the top of your hand with his own large one, a softness in his eyes, “I’m sure growing up was hard for you, yeah?...” 

“I mean, you could say that...” Oddly, you let him keep his hand on your own but it didn’t last long. “Can we drop this subject, please? I really don’t like talking about it.” You slid your hand back, an awkward grin showing your discomfort.

“Of course, sorry,” He sounded flustered, “I didn’t mean to pry.” The waiter had come back and sat the food in front of you two, you both thanked him. It smelled divine and Taehyung had already dug into his meal. You stabbed the nicely sliced tomato, sticking it in your mouth slowly as you eyed him intently.

“Y’know...” He began.

You forgot that people actually talk to one another when they go out to eat, it’s been so long it seemed weird. You were just about ready to tape his mouth shut because of all of these questions weren’t allowing you to eat. The chicken on your fork would have to wait. “What?”

“I know this may be a little awkward since I’m your boss and all, but we’re both adults.” Awkward? That was an oversimplification. 

He lowered his voice. “This morning, when you said you heard something,” He bit his lip, “I whispered something to myself...I said it so low, I could barely hear myself say it, but you did.” His gaze focused on you intensely. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, how could you have heard something that was as quiet as a thought?” 

Fear. A blanket of utter terror wrapped around you as you struggled to gulp the lump in your throat. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You choked, hands beginning to tremble when you pushed them in your lap.

“Are you sure? Because I think you do.” He was starting to rub you the wrong way.

You are eating lunch in a restaurant with a man that you work for and he sees no problem with it. Not only that, but you saw a few employees from the Heights office and they wouldn’t stop staring and whispering when they saw you. Free lunch at the expense of your antisocial way of life. Those workers knew your face now, what if this went bad? It would look bad on a new boss was seen with a lower level employee like you, what would they think? This is why you didn’t want to do this, this was a bad idea. Thoughts raced through your mind but the only one that you could grasp was the thought of him knowing—you wanted to throw up.

“Are you okay? Your face is flushed.” His eyes widened in concern.

“I- I’m fine, it’s just a little hot in here.” You fanned yourself lightly, reaching for the glass of wine and finishing it off but still feeling parched. Suddenly, a dull ache throbbed in your temples and your brows furrowed in discomfort.

“Excuse me,” he stopped a waiter, “can you bring me a glass of water please?”

“No, no, thank you for everything but I really have to go.” You were pushing yourself away from the table and in a matter of seconds, you were making your way through the restaurant and flying out the door. When you walked out of that place you felt like you could breathe. The gears were turning in your head, anxiety began to eat away at your bones and you couldn’t contain it anymore. Panting, you stood in the busy street, trying to gather yourself. You shook your head, your ears aching as if someone had set a firework off right next to you. Eager to get home, you got on the subway and held on to the safety bar. You felt hot, it as if everything was burning inside you. It scared you to death, people would try to get close, ask too many questions—

 it made you sick to your stomach.

Home, that was your goal. When you got off the subway, you made your dog walking stops. Starting from the farthest apartment complex to your own. A pit bull, two chihuahua’s and a brown lab, it took about 2 hours. The Lafonso’s canceled last minute so you were thankful because nature decided that you deserved to suffer this evening. The rain was relentless. It was pouring down, your clothes were drenched, sticking to you in the worst way as you walked down the street, desperate to get home. No one offered to walk you under their umbrella, not that you would accept the offer anyway. A nice hot shower was all you wanted.

“Huh...” You sigh, dragging your soaked frame up the stairs. You closed your eyes, taking in a deep breath. You dug into your pocket to take out you’re house key. “Where is that thing?-...”

Notice from the city — Sorry we missed you!

We missed you! You were not available when we came to introduce the new monthly policy. The SRMA monthly routine check on all citizens born between 1992 - 1998 who may have failed to submit their medical records or whose records may need verifying. Do not be alarmed, as a government, we want to ensure the health and safety of our people through all necessary methods. If you have any questions, contact us at 747-”

B.S.—You rip the bright orange paper off the door, crumbling it up into a ball, and throw it in the trash bin as you entered your home. It’s disgusting. The government has their sneaky ways of getting what they want, one way or another. Just as you do every night, you flipped the light switch to get some light in your dark little living room. You flicked it twice but there was no light—just your luck. The light bulbs are out. You toss your purse on the couch to go search for some extra light bulbs. 

For some reason the light bulbs refused to be found, you checked under the kitchen sink, then the supply closet—I know I bought some. 

“There we go.” On the very top shelf, the new pack of bulbs sat in the far corner. You had no clue why you put it there but you reached up on your tippy-toes and grabbed the pack.

Sighing, you untwisted the dead bulb from under lampshade and sat it on the coffee table. As you were about to screw in the new bulb, suddenly, you heard low footsteps in the hall and you tensed as the unknown person passed your door.

You absentmindedly screwed in the bulb. “Who in the- Agh!” A sharp burst of glass and light happened in your hands and scared the life out of you. The light bulb previously in your hand now exploded, the shards of glass missing your finger so by less than an inch. 

You rush to your kitchen to get a broom and dustpan. “Cheap bulbs, what can you expect...” You cleared your throat, shuffling over to clean up the mess. When you glanced at your buzzing cellphone, you had easily predicted who it was on the other end.  You picked it up and held it between your shoulder and ear. “Hi, Hoseok.”

“Hey, I was just calling to check on you. I saw you weren’t answering your texts so I got worried.” 

Always so concerned for you, you were lucky to have at least one friend like him.

“Oh, I was really busy today, I didn’t even see your texts. Sorry about that.” You walked into the kitchen as Hoseok explained that he was just making sure you got home safely. He was also pretty curious about who went to lunch with today, you wouldn’t say. “Don’t worry about it Hoseok, it was just lunch and it’s not happening again. Now, I wish I didn’t have to run but I got caught in the rain and I need a shower-”

Footsteps. You heard footsteps in the hall again, and this time, they stopped right in front of your door.

“Y/n?”

“Wait one second...” You whispered, trying to stealthily tiptoe to the door but there was a knock. This time, you were sure it was probably Jan, it had to be...

“Hello?” 

No, that’s a man's voice. 

“Anyone home?”

Just as you were about to peek through the peep-hole, a paper began to slip through the crack of the door and fall to the floor in front of you. The person had quickly walked away after that and you bent down to inspect the paper. 

“Y/n, is everything okay?” 

You forgot Hoseok was still on the phone.

“Yeah...I’m good. Hey, I’ll talk to you later, okay?” 

“Okay, goodnight.”

“Night...” You hung up the phone, staring down at the paper.

You have failed to submit your birth records to the SRMA for the 4th year in a row. 5 years with unsubmitted records is considered a felony as of 2 months ago. You have one year to submit your records before you are put under high suspicion of the state. At the bottom of the paper, a printed signature was signed. Ordered by Senator Nelson Green.

“Ugh, not again...” You were about to crumble up the paper, but you paused. You don’t even know if your birth certificate is legitimate. You were adopted and for all you knew, your parents had altered the thing, it’s unlikely, but it’s still a possibility. You had never turned them in for the mere fact that it wasn’t against the law, it was just a strong and annoying suggestion. Until now.

“I’ve never met anyone like her before and I don’t want to let her slip through my fingers...” He was at his penthouse and his best friend, Jimin, was day house-sitting for him. Taehyung sat on the couch with his matching pajama set on and pillow snug in his grasp as the television served to fill in the silence gap.

“She must be gorgeous for you to be this messed up about her.” Jimin sat on the recliner with a bowl of ramen. 

“I went to lunch with her today.”

“Oh? So you’ve already gone on a date?”

“Not exactly, my lunch appointment canceled so I asked her if she wanted to join me. She came but I really don’t think she wanted to be there. It may have to do with the fact that I’m kind of her boss...”

“She works for you?!” Jimin couldn’t hide his shock.

Taehyung sighs. “Don’t sound so surprised, she works in the customer service department downtown.” 

“Woah, what does your dad think about you getting involved with an employee?”

“Who said anything about getting involved? I don’t think she likes me all that much, she’s kind of a closed book, doesn’t like to talk much. I just asked her to lunch, nothing more nothing less.” He knew it was far much more than that.

“But you want this to turn into something more, don’t you?” Jimin knew the answer. And so did Taehyung. But the thought of verbalizing his want for you made it less real, less tangible.

“Yes- No, I don’t know, I just want to get to know her, that’s all.” Taehyung laid on the arm of the couch, lost in his thoughts. There was no denying that you were hiding something from him, he knew that for a fact. But getting you to open up and be comfortable with him seemed to be the hardest part of all. Why was he so drawn to you? And why did you hide that you felt the same?

A few days later.

It’s a few days since your meeting with Taehyung and you were back to your normal life. Unfortunately, the news that you had gone out with the CEO for lunch was the subject of conversation for the cubicles not too far from you. None of them have dared to ask you about it, for reason that you weren’t quite sure of. You just knew that the only way you were going to get those girls to stop gossiping was to ignore them completely. 

You had quite a few calls this morning, no more than usual on a busy day but they came in back to back. Most of them were calling in regards to the new camera that just came out. Some were complaints, others were genuinely curious questions. Your supervisor came out of his office and you watched him survey the room until his eyes landed on you. 

“Y/n, come to my office please.” He walks back to his office, urging you to follow.

You swallowed, putting the phone back on the hook and walking to his office. Honestly, you couldn’t imagine what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“You’ve been doing a great job, so don’t think I called you in here because you’re in trouble.” Those words soothed your weary expression. “I was asked by Mr. Kim, to give you this envelope this morning.” He reached into his desk to pull out a white envelope. “Here you go.”

“Oh, thank you.” You took the envelope and walked back to your cubicle. In the solitude of your little space, you opened up the envelope. 

__, You’re probably wondering why I didn’t just call or text you. I wanted to know if you could meet me at the club we talked at the other night, I have something really important to talk to you about, please come.

Love, Kim Taehyung.

“Huh...”

“What’s that?” Your coworker in the cubicle across from you noticed the envelope in your hands.

“Oh, nothing, just some notice from HQ or something...” You opened up your desk and shoved it in your drawer. She didn’t look too convinced but she left the subject alone for the most part. 

You laid on your bed, pen in your hand, notebook in your lap, and earbuds snug in your ears. Excessive studying had begun to bore you. You decided to set the book down and scroll through your phone absentmindedly.

I had a great time Suzette

You froze, eyes widening in suspicion. You sat up, seeing if someone had opened your room door or something. Where did that come from? It sounded oddly like her uncle's voice. 

The kids are home, my mom and niece are taking care of them, but my wife doesn’t get off until 7 today

You were sure that was him now. You weren’t sure where it was coming from especially since you had your music on full blast. But when you took the earphones, you could hear the conversation amplified. Quietly, you sneaked up to your window on your hands and knees, pushing hair away from your face. To your distaste, you saw your uncle, leaning into the window of some woman's car—for your aunt's sake, you hoped that woman was just a friend.

I’ll see you on Friday, bring your swimsuit

He kissed her cheek—ok so they’re definitely more than friends. To ensure that he didn’t see you, you scurried away from the window and ran downstairs to help your grandma with dinner. After you washed up, you began to cut the vegetables for the salad as Daisy, the toddler of the bunch, played in the living room with her older brother.

“Hey guys, I’m home.” 

The little kids, all 4 of them ran up to greet their dad, you merely waved. Little did they know, their daddy wasn’t the superhero of a man he portrayed himself to be. 

“Food smells good mom.” He walked into the kitchen to search the fridge for something to drink as he always did.

“Thanks, son, it’s your favorite, stewed chicken and rice.” She smiled as he pecked her cheek. Now it was time to greet the only teenager in the house.

“How was school, __?” 

“It was school, nothing special.” You mumbled, cutting the tomato with one of your earbuds still in.

“Oh, well, just so you all know, I have to go out of town on-”

“Friday?” You suddenly blurted out, earning you an odd look from him.

“Yeah, how did you know?” He furrowed his brow in suspicion.

Save yourself Y/n. “Um, just a guess.” He looked like he thought nothing of it and went back to the conversation. It took everything in you not to say what you saw, what you heard. It burned at the tip of your tongue.

After dinner.

You stood in front of the sink, washing dishes like you always did after dinner. Even though you all had a dishwasher, grandma always insisted that you wash them by hand. It was annoying but you did it.

“Hey, your aunt wanted to know if you’ll take Josie to elementary school tomorrow, she’s gotta go in early.” Uncle walked into the kitchen, a bowl of cereal in hand.

“Sure, I guess I’ll skip class.” You muttered, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“Well, you shouldn’t skip class-”

“It’s not a big deal, I was gonna skip anyway.” You cut him off. You two had always had this tense relationship. He would say something, you’d saying something back, he’d get offended, the usual argument followed suit. You remember his rage when he saw you got a nose piercing, it was fake and so you felt no need not to wear it. It’s your nose after all.

“Oh.” He stood there for a little while, reading over some bills and such.

“So, you’re going out of town...” You thought you’d be the one to bring it up.

“Yep.”

“Somewhere sunny, I’m guessing?”

You furrowed his brows, wondering why you’d say that. “Um, sure, I guess.” 

“Why don’t you bring your wife with you? She hasn’t had a vacation in a while.”

“Because it’s work.”

“Or is it because Suzette will be there?” You had stopped washing dishes now.

“Suzette?” His brows knitted further. “How do you know Suzette? I’ve never mentioned her before.” Now he was suspicious.

You sighed, biting your lip anxiously. “You’re making a mistake, ok. You have a wife and kids, your family is worth more than some lady.” 

“__, are you hearing yourself? Suzette is a co-worker and we happen to work in the same city this weekend.”

“And you guys plan to do some fucking swimming while you’re there?” You spat, raising your voice a bit through clenched teeth. “Yeah, that sounds like tiresome, boring work.” 

He tensed—there is no way you should have heard him, that wasn’t possible

“You need to think before you speak __, you could get yourself in a lot of trouble. How the hell did you even hear that? Did you wire my bag or something? Where are you getting all of this?-”

“Look, I know what I heard.” You stormed away, trying to get away from him but he grabbed your wrist. “What.” You hissed.

“What are you up to, little girl? Do you think this is funny or something? You storm around me like some ungrateful bitch and I put up with it since the day you got here. I won’t be disrespected in my own home.”

“Let go of my arm.” You tried to pull away but he was relentless.

He gripped you harder. “I’m only gonna say this once, stay out of my business __, I mean it.”

The threat only made you spite him more. You felt anger and fear begin to bubble in your chest as he eyed you like a hawk. How dare he even insinuate that you were ridiculous when you saw with your own eyes what he was doing. You stared at him with a blank expression, your knuckles turning white as you clenched your fists impossibly tight. “L-let go.”

“Did you hear what I just-” He paused. A white heat began to incase his entire body, his hands trembled as a high-pitched ringing started to torture his senses, he stepped back. “What the hell?”

You got away and ran upstairs.

“__! I’m not done talking to you young lady-”

“Leave me alone!” 

You gritted your teeth, trying to conceal your voice. You closed your door, locking it and jumping to lay on your bed. It was hard not to hate his guts sometimes, he was so annoying sometimes. You wondered what your real dad would have been like...

You heard a knock on the door but you willed yourself to ignore the sounds.

The door creaked as he opened it. “Hi, can I help you?”

“Hello there, I know it’s late but my name is agent Susan Black, I’m with the Scientific Research and Medical Advancements recovery efforts. I’m here to get records for the people living in your home for safety, it’s protocol. We’ve been made aware that you’ve been avoiding our calls and emails for you to turn in all the residents of this home's birth records.” She smiled, he knew this would catch up with him. “You’re making us really suspicious Mr. Kang.”

He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I’ll make sure that happens in the next week, but now isn’t the best time.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do it now sir, just before the end of the year. Goodnight sir- Oh, and don't forget, it’s for the safety of society.”

“Dr. Kim, what do you think about The 1989 Project, I know you used to work here back then?” 

One of the resident doctors stopped by Dr. Kim’s office to hand off some papers. “I know a lot of the rumors are true, and that even you worked with Zoe Akasma Hawn to get her back to health.”

The older man sighed, thinking of the horrible state of that girl. “I don’t have a lot to say about it.” 

“Oh, come on Doctor, I know you must think something of it.” He pried.

“I just hope the surviving participants get the help that they need, that’s all.” His answer is wholesome, not one you can really argue.

“You can’t possibly think that those experiments have a chance of molding into society, do you?”

“You never know.” That’s all he had to say before resuming his papers. His phone rang suddenly.

“Hello?”

“Hey dad, I can’t come by this evening, I have a thing.” Taehyung never missed coming to see his dad, so whatever it was, it must be important. “Sorry.”

“This thing must be important, huh?” He smiled through the phone. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you. Love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son.” 

Taehyung tucked his phone into his pocket and got out of the car, hoping he wouldn’t be waiting here all night. It was sunset, he entered the club and found a seat near the band and waited, anxiously. The tingling in his chest reminded him how nervous he was, what if you decided not to show up? That wouldn’t be a surprise given the feelings you have towards him—if you could call those feelings. When you ran out of the restaurant the other day, he had never felt so out of place in his life. He did put you on the spot when he asked about your family and you did not react well. But in his defense, he didn’t know it was a touchy subject. 

“Can I get you anything?” A young waitress, who looked rather swoon by his appearance walked up to him. 

“Not now, I’m waiting for someone.” Her expression saddened when she connected the dots. He wasn’t alone this evening and she could forget about hitting it big with a guy like him.

Thirty minutes turned into an hour, and an hour turned into an hour and a half. He had finally settled for ordering tea and leaving, but then you were walking in through the front door—you were wearing a black t-shirt, sneakers, and jeans. Your hair laid close on your shoulders as your eyes scanned the room for him. Before he could beckon you over, your eyes found him and you were walking towards him. With a breathless huff, you sat in the chair across from him, the air around you immediately took effect on him. His chest started to tingle but he managed to push the excitement down.

“So,” You exhaled, “what’s so important?” Your voice was soft, low, kind despite its cutting edges in tone.

“I...” He scrambled for his reasoning for calling you. “I called the office for you yesterday, but they said you weren’t there.”

“I had a few things I had to take care of, is that why you called me here?...” If that was the reason, you were sure he was taking this interest in you too far. “To see why I wasn’t at work? I asked my manager if it was ok-”

“No, that’s not why. I-...” He tapped absentmindedly on his ceramic cup, attempting to compile a coherent sentence. “Um...”

“Taehyung,” You cut him off, your patience running thin. “I really don’t have all night, I walked here from the subway station 15 minutes from here and I need to get back home...”

“The government contacted the company. They’ve been looking to see if any of my employees are affiliated with Jane Sato or know anything about The 1989 Project. I’ve heard that you’re one of the few people that haven’t been officially cleared by the SRMA recently.” He cleared his throat. “Do you know anything about it?”

“No, not a thing...” You deadpanned, eyes going between your hands and the live band in the background. You were starting to get that feeling again, the same feeling you felt the night you saw him, the icy burn at the tip of your fingers, and the pit of your stomach.

“And honestly, I don’t believe in that stuff. The whole Zoe Hawn case seemed like the government had too much to do with it. Put a feral looking failed experiment on the TV and everyone wants to get tested, it’s a hoax. Those hybrids, experiments- Whatever they're called, they have nothing to do with me. I don’t want to have anything to do with them either.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. “So, does this not look familiar to you?” You reached for it, fingers grazing it lightly before you gradually opened it up. A photo—a photo of a bunch of doctors and scientists, you weren’t sure. Your eyes scanned the individuals in the picture and you frowned.

Your gaze turned cold. “Where did you get this...”

“These are the doctors and scientist involved in the 1989 project, I got it from a physician I know. He thought I should show it to some of my employees. Do any of them look familiar?” He tilted his head, doe eyes too round and distracting for you at the moment.

You gulped. “No.”

He moved to grasp the photo. “I just thought you might’ve-...”

“I don’t know who any of those people are.”

A spark ignited from the tip of your fingers.

When your hands touched, it was as if a white light engulfed his vision and an achingly loud thump reverberated in your ears, you yanked your hand away instantly. There was no denying that you felt something and you didn’t like it. He stared up at you, lips parted in shock as you mirrored his expression but in a rigid manner. Your teeth dug into your bottom lip, probably drawing blood, and for the second time around him, your anxiety decided to devour you from the inside out.

“I-...I’m leaving.” You abruptly pushed away from the table and stormed out of the club, photo in hand.

“Hey! Wait!” He ran behind you, trying not to lose you since you were already halfway down the sidewalk. You retained a steady pace of running but you could tell he was hot on your trail, you could run down to the subway and try to lose him there but you hated getting on the subway at this hour.

You swiftly shoved the photo in your pocket and bolted down the alleyway. For a moment, you paused so you could catch your breath, leaning back against the rough brick walls and letting your eyelids flutter closed. Why is this happening to me and why now? You managed to calm yourself from the constant pound of your heartbeat. When you heard panting, you slowly opened your eyes.

He caged you, his eyes boring into your soul.

Your eyes widened, jumping back to run away but he seized your wrists. “Leave me alone!” 

“Why did you run?!” He seethed, trying to stay calm. “Calm down, shh!” The words leaving his throat like a suppressed cough. You pushed at his chest, trying not to look him in the eye. “Stop trying to run away! Listen to me, please.” It was a firm plea, one you had never heard from anyone before. “If you’d just let me explain-”

You weren’t having it.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?!” You jerked away, getting away from the wall so you could make a run for it but you felt a sharp pain in your head. You hunched over, clutching your forehead in your hands. “Ah...” You winced, your breathing unsteady and your stance shaky. The throbbing had increased and your vision was beginning to get blurry. 

Taehyung reached out to you, his hand gripping your arms. “Y/n, stop fighting it...”

“Get the hell away from me!-“ You were pulling away, hitting, clawing at his arms and everything to get him to let you go. Despite your resistance, he wrapped his arms around you, his body being so close had made your pulse skyrocket. This was too much, it physically, emotionally, mentally, pained you the more you tried to getaway. 

“Please, don’t fight me-” He tried to speak calmly but it was hard when you insisted on thrashing about. “S-stop fighting me, I’m not gonna hurt you, you can trust me,” His heart sank when he saw that look in your eyes, the look of an innocent creature in pain—you were scared. “We’re the same.”

“N-no, leave me alone,” Your stance wavered and you fell silent, tears building at your eyes. You were on the verge of sobbing. “Just leave me alone, I can’t be around you...”

There was so much energy emanating around you, through your bones. You could feel everything—you could hear everything. The buzz of street lights, bickering old couples on the top floor of this old apartment, honking horns of impatient drivers, a sobbing teen curled up on a cold tile floor. It was as if all living things were coursing through you—a razor-sharp current of light and darkness stabbing you from the inside out. 

The sound of something cracking, the sound so unbearably familiar that he found it difficult to physically control himself. 

“Y/n, don’t fight it...it’s okay...” His hands clung to your lower back and the back of your neck, keeping you anchored against him, your hands still pushing him away. His lips parted, a shaky breath leaving his mouth when you tensed. 

“I know...I feel it too.”

Absolute darkness, dull obscurations ravaged your sight and you fell limp—you blacked out. 

[littleredroseonthevalley]

An Opera on Separation - Chapter 15

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | CH. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 |

Summary: It is the end of term for the teachers at Lydia Child. Zig has a special surprise for Emily. An undesirable presence looms the Park Avenue apartment, though. How Queenie and Nathan will deal with the newcomer?

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children.  Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 2028

Notes: A Christmas chapter to give some relief (and to mock, as in Cape Town not only is cold, but it’s also raining like nobody’s business) for my dearest Northern Hemisphere readers.

Reblog, please. Enjoy.

Santa’s Coming For Us

“And we’re done!” Marietta shut her notebook, signalling the end of the arduous meeting. “Congratulations, everyone, for this term. Now, let us trade gifts and dig onto that pizza. I swear to God, it’s been singing my name for the last hour.”

The teachers clapped animatedly, relieved for their two-week break, and then they served themselves each a piece of pizza from the spread by one side of the room.

Emily had spent most of the evening next to the elderly Mr. Smith, discussing his classes, programs and students, in preparation for his retirement at the end of the school year. As for Zig, he was at the opposite end of the room, fidgeting with his hands and the edges of his shirt in a clear display of nerves.

“Someone should talk with Mr. Ortega.” Mr. Smith noted, with a grave note of concern. “Look at the boy! He’s pale as a sheet!”

Emily followed his line of sight and Zig did look like if he was about to pass out at any minute. She excused herself from the elderly teacher and walked over to the Latino man.

“Hey.” She says. “Are you okay? You look ill.”

He laughed off-tone. “Me? Ill? Nope! Not at all! I feel as healthy as a horse!”

“Are you sure?” The woman presses on.

“Ms. Harper!” Marietta calls off behind her. “Take your seat, we’ll have our Secret Santa now!”

“In a moment, ma’am.” The redhead nodded.

She gave the young man a last appraising look and walked back to her chair with the rest of the English department.

“Now, since we’re all ready, we should begin.” Ms. Jones announces. “Ms. Harper, as you seem so eager, why don’t you begin?”

Blushing from being singled out, she coughs a little to prep her voice and starts the guessing game: “My Secret Santa…”

A few minutes in and the Secret Santa was in full swing, with petty trinkets, hugs and wishes for a great holiday season being traded around the room between the lecturers.

Somewhere around the middle of it, Zig had been drawn by a young Social Studies teacher who had gifted him a navy blue tie, on the fashion of those he uses every day for work.

He thanked the girl politely, albeit rather coldly, and loosened the one he was wearing to change to the one he was given.

Afterwards, the man stands up once more and clear his throat: “Er… my Secret Santa is a girl. She has red hair and is a little on the short side. She doesn’t like to be told that, but it’s the truth. She arrived to Lydia Child only this year, and it was a great surprise to me. I’ve known and respected her for so long, but it was just as long the last time I’d met her.

“The first time she ever taught was back in August, and you could see the nervousness on her eyes. I’d wager she thought the students were going to eat her.” The small joke elicit a few laughs from the audience. “But she raised above all the limitations, like we all did, and now she’s one of the most well-liked teachers in the school, and I didn’t doubt for a single minute that she would.

“I mean, y’all know, she has such a sunny disposition that only the most dedicated can manage to stay sour near her. It’s so annoying that you just can’t help to have your spirits lifted. And she’s dedicated, too! You had to see her, struggling with some math book just so she can help cover a subject I don’t even think she’s supposed to teach.

Zig sighed, a smile on his face. “If it isn’t clear enough, my Secret Santa is Emily Harper.”

Emily wiped a few tears off her eyes and ran to hug the man.

“No need to cry.” He whispers on her ear, good-humoured.

“Don’t say all those pretty things about me and ask me not to cry!” She whispers back.

He chuckled. “C’mon, you didn’t even see your present yet.”

She let him go begrudgingly. He beamed at her and handed a small, neatly packed gift. “Careful opening it. It’s fragile.”

The redhead nodded and opened slowly and carefully the shining wrapping paper. It was a copy of the book ‘Out of Africa’, by Karen Blixen.

“Zig, I…” She started to say, but was cut off by him.

“Open it.” The Latino asked of her.

The young woman obeyed, and at the first page another gasp. It was a quote and a signature.

“Le temps nous prive de beaucoup de biens précieux, et, pour finir, il nous prive de tout.

K. Blixen

København, January 15th, 1960”

“I remember you have a collection of signed copies, and that Out of Africa was one of your favourite books.” He says, with a mischievous grin. “So, I called a few people and found a used books store that had that one in stock. It’s from one of the last public appearances by Karen Blixen. It seems that the last owner of this copy knew somebody who knew somebody who scored it for him.”

Emily could do nothing but cry and hug Zig tightly.

While the party was in full swing at Lydia Child, a certain commercial airplane landed in Newark.

Inside, sat a woman in her late 60’s who was currently enjoying a flute of champagne. Her eyes were a chilly, sterile blue, framed by some age markers of someone who did not bother to hide them.

She was rather tall, especially for her age, and combined with the full, puffy blond mane on her head gave her the imposing and sophisticated look of a high-society lady.

A simple diamond necklace, the only piece of jewellery she carried, adorned her black dress. Beige pantyhose and a sensible, also black, heel covered her lean legs.

After landing and baggage reclaim, she did a beeline to the glass doors of the airport, where a fancy, yet non-descript car waited patiently for her.

“You know where we’re going.” She told the driver. “Step on it.”

A man who sat next to her on the backseat chuckled. “You’ll never change, will you, Lois?”

“What do you mean?” She demands.

“You say ‘efficient communication’, but it’s actually you being brash, demanding and indifferent.” He smirks. “Have you ever said thank you in your life?”

Lois laughs as if it was one big joke. “You’re one to tell.”

“Birds of the same feather, I suppose.” He considered. “What are you doing here, anyways?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” She said, turning on her cell phone.

The man smirks. “Indeed, let me rephrase. What do you expect to achieve with it?”

“I expect to recover what’s mine. And perhaps knocking some sense into that stupid, empty head.”

Sometime around 10:00 PM, Emily finally got to the entrance door of the Sterlings’ apartment, feeling ready for a good night’s sleep.

The sight she encounter at the kitchen, however, wasn’t very conductive to resting.

“Surprise!” Queenie and Nathan shout, surprising the young redhead. The two of them wore party hats and the whole room was dripping with tacky ‘happy birthday’ décor.

“I’m sorry about the ‘Feliz Cumpleaños’ theme. The store had no ‘Congratulations on your first half-versary at the job’ so we had to improvise.” Queenie said with a laughter.

“But the cake’s legit.” Nathan presented the dessert, the phrase ‘#1 Teach’ was frosted on it. “Done it myself, dark chocolate and coffee beans, hope you like it!”

“Oh my God, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” The youngest beamed and hugged her mother. “And, yeah, Nathan, I love chocolate and coffee beans. It was the cake you baked me for my birthday between Junior and Senior years.”

He laughs, sheepish. “I’m pretty sure I asked the maid to order me one, but I’m glad you liked it then and I’m glad you like it now.”

“Come on, let’s dig in!” Queenie picks up a plate and a knife, ready to carve the cake into shreds.

“No, wait. Let me at least freshen up.” Emily asks. “I’ve been on this dress all day long and I could use a pair of slippers.”

“Sure, honey. I’ll accompany you.” The mother smiled kindly and then pointed the knife at the man. “Do not dare to eat the cake before we’re back.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, I’ll eat three kilograms of cake while you’re changing. I’ll even lick the plate clean.”

The older woman shot him a dirty look, but followed her daughter away with no further words. Nathan looked over to the decorated table and saw that Emily had forgotten to take her book bag back to her room.

He picked it up and he was going to take it there for her when a particular volume called upon his attention. It was an old, battered copy of ‘Out of Africa’. The blond took the book out to check it out in close quarters.

It was not a library issue, certainly, and it was not any of his, either. He did not remember any book boxes when Emily and Queenie moved in, so it must be a new purchase.

Opening the volume, he sees the Karen Blixen signature and wonder whether the bookseller was a moron or if Emily had the pretty penny to afford such a luxury.

It was when a small envelope falls out from the book pages. It was, by itself, nothing special, as it was white and only addressed to Emily in scrawny cursive.

Nathan checks the hallway to see if there was anyone coming. Having the coast clear, he opens the stationary.

What he reads puts him on a foul mood. It was a love letter, from Zig to Emily, asking for her forgiveness for his brash behaviour their last encounter and reiterating his intent. He was probably who gave Emily the book, in fact.

Nathan had to admit, the baboon had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Considering the letter was sealed when he found it, he assumes Emily had not found it yet, and therefore he could make it disappear. The two women were yet to emerge from the bedroom; they’d be none the wiser.

It was his first instinct, the blond had to admit. But something contained his hand, a foggy thought he could not make much sense of it, a feeling it would bring only misery if he went on with it.

He decided to put the letter back where he found it.

“Oh, there’s where I left it!” Emily exclaims, entering the kitchen.

“I was about to take it to your room.” The man handed her the bag. “What’s with the vintage copy?”

“Zig gave it to me tonight. I used to collect signed copies, and Out of Africa is one of my favourite books.” She beamed, happy.

“You used to? What happened?” The blond wondered out loud.

The redhead woman sighed. “You kept my books after we divorced.”

“No, I did not.” He shook his head. “The only books we had at home were on my study, and those were mine.”

“Do you remember the shelves by the guest room, on the third floor?” She asks, and he nods his affirmative. “Those were my collection.”

An icy chill ran through the man’s spine. He let Ashley-Amber throw them all away while she was ‘remodelling’ the house. He didn’t even think of checking what was on that particular set of shelves, he just assumed that were assorted titles of no importance other than decorative value, like every other at his parents’ houses.

Nathan had to hand it to himself; he really screwed up with Emily’s life. So much so, he should call the Guinness Book and check if they keep tally of those. He could be sitting on a world record.

Before he could say anything else, they hear a noise at the entrance door. Not dwelling much about it, them both walked out to the living room to check on it.

“Mother!” Nathan exclaims.

Standing by the doorway, Lois Sterling smirks, dangerously. “I am back.”

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An Opera on Separation - Masterlist

Taglist: @alicars; @boneandfur; @choicesfannatalie; @diamond-dreamland; @emerald-bijou; @kennaxval; @liam-rhys; @liamxs-world; @lizeboredom; @mfackenthal; @moodygrip; @mrsdrakewalkerblog; @radiantrosemary; @topsyturvy-dream

[sainadazai]

Chapter 4

A/n ahh yesterday was bakugous birthday I love him oml everyone say happy birthday even though its late

"They say clothes make the pros, ladies and gentlemen. And behold you are the proof." all might spoke, smiling brightly as everyone exited the changing rooms.

You walked out in a group, making it difficult to see everyones costumes, but you caught a glimpse of some that were rather cool. All Might seemed to think as well his words being "This is getting me all ramped up, you look so cool!" He really is too excited for his own good.

As everyone had finally taken their places, standing scattered in a bunch of costume-clad teens, you could finally look around and take in some of the impressive ideas your classmates had. Momo, wearing a quite revealing one-piece that was a beautiful red, contrasting with a yellow belt. It was showy, but you wouldn't say she looked anything less than badass.

Might be difficult to fight her while she wears it, though. You would want any mishaps to happen for the perverts around here, or in here.

"Woah! L/n I like your costume! It fits your quirk, haha" Momo approached you, as she laughed joyfully.

It better. This hero suit design had been in the works since you were just a preschooler. A skin-tight silver body suit that stops in the middle of your thigh. Two purple stripes going down either side from the shoulder down. A zipper, metal obviously, by the slightly turtlenecked top that goes halfway down your bust. On your hands, purple fingerless gloves, with concealed brass knuckles to benefit hand to hand combat.

Then, around your left thigh, a garter that also served as storage for small capsules of your own blood, just in case you're in need of something metal, and would be at risk if you cut yourself. The capsules are secured in little pockets around the garter, a pop of red to the otherwise shiny grey costume.

However, the favorite part ever since you were little, was the boots. They were a shiny purple that rose tightly up to your lower thighs, they were fireproof material with removable silver heels. Why? Well so that you can shoot them off using your quirk at any point in battle,or, if liquified, could be used to make you float.

This was an idea you and your mom thought of after seeing a movie where a girl shot bullets from her high heels, she told you that that was a badass woman moment, and ever since badass has been your favorite compliment to give. That was at age 7. Finishing off the costume you wore thick silver and purple glasses that scanned objects for metals and told you what metals they were, to make things easier to manipulate and multiply.

"I-am sorry-"

"L/n!"

"Sorry, um thanks! Yours looks badass, too. "

"Thanks L/n."

The two of you made your way over to jirou and continued to talk, or try to talk while stuttering. As they spoke to you, subconsciously you kept on the lookout for Todoroki. He was nowhere to be seen in the mess of teens, but you did spot Midoriya having what looked to be a seizure as he conversed with a very revealed Uraraka. She looked beautiful,too. Even though her suit was skin tight, it fit her well, showing her curves in a modest but flattering way. Her most gorgeous feature,though, was her hair, so instead of your eyes lingering on her body in its glory, you found yourself entranced with the shine of her hair, and the blush on her cheeks.

Even though you were stuck in your own attempts at conversation, not paying attention to the half and half boy anymore, he was paying attention to you. His eyes stuck to your face as it smiled and your eyes when they brightened. Wandering down to your chest, luckily zipped up and away from the observing eye, your curves every little dip around your waist and hip, your legs, thigh, calf, all the muscles you'd worked to obtain since childhood. Todoroki was entranced by you, and how you looked like a hero already.

He wondered if the girls had made you their friend since you were shy, if they took you in and wanted to be your friend since you didn't have the words to ask them yourself. If so, should he do the same? It seemed to work for them, he might need to re-think his plan.

You both were brought away from your separate places as Iida spoke.

"This is the fake city from our entrance exam." He spoke robotically, from inside a full armored suit.

You looked around, not previously noticing this was indeed one the cities from the exam. "Will we be conducting urban battles again?"

"Not quite,I'm going to move you two steps ahead!" All Might gestured the number two with his fingers.

"Most of the villain fights you see on the news happen outside. However, statistically speaking, the most disastrous villain fights happen indoors. Think about it, backroom deals, home invasions,secret underground layers. Truly intelligent criminals stay hidden in the shadows. For this training exercise you'll be split into heroes and villains and perform two on two battles."

The girl from lunch, with the frog quirk, spoke up, "Isn't this a little advanced?"

The pro simply smiled "The best training is what you get on the battlefield,"

"Wouldn't call this a battlefield.." you mumbled, looking around at all your classmates who you supposed would be villains soon. How did he expect other hero students to be able to play the villain? You understood that getting in a villain's mind might be important, but really how good could anyone do?

"But remember you can just punch a robot this time, you're dealing with actual people now."

"Sir, will you be the one deciding who wins?"

"How much can we hurt the other team?"

"Do we need to worry about the losers getting expelled like earlier-"

-

You walked down the concrete path keeping All Mights words in mind.

"The situation is this: the villains have hid a nuclear missile somewhere in their hideout. The heroes must try to soil their plans. To do that the good guys either have to catch the evil do-ers, or apprehend the weapon. Likewise the bad guys succeed if they protect their payload or capture the heroes."

Next to you stood a tall, blonde haired boy with a tail, he'd asked you to call him ojiro. The two of you, much to your dislike, were meant to play villains. Another dislike, you'd be going up against Shoto Todoroki and Mezo Shoji. After thinking it through, you figured they could use Shoji's ears and other heightened senses to find the two of you, and Todoroki would probably just freeze you. How could you fight if you couldn't move, right? Wrong.

Ferrokinesis is the manipulation of metal through the mind. You had especially trained yourself to combat without using a single bone in your body, it just takes concentrated breathing. It might have been nice to inform your partner of that, to ease his mind, and maybe plan some sort of strategy, but you haven't been able to speak outside of greeting him. Thus, you entered the tall building silently and stood by the missile, waiting for the "Heroes" to come.

"Uhm, L/n, did what happened earlier make this whole thing a lot more...scary?" He began, startling you by initiating conversation.

"Um, what do you mean by that? Like Midoriya and Bakugou fighting?" You questioned, a lot more comfortable considering you were just alone with him.

"Yeah, like seeing how real it can get, you know.." his face screamed nervousness, and that really wouldn't help the two of you, plus you needed to get into a villain mindset, still.

"No, you see, the fact that things might get more real now, it'll only help us. Recovery girl is there to heal any injuries later, so I say we should all fight like that. Well, not like- I- you"

"I get it."

"Uhm, yeah, if we all give it one hundred and ten percent, that's how we will actually get better, and maybe learn how to handle ourselves in different situations. If things go bad now, it'll be easy, we just get really angry and mean like bakugou, perfect villains, ha"

"Heheh, yeah, your right L/n"

"S-yeah, thanks"

You suddenly felt cold rising from below, guess you were right about that. Feeling proud of yourself, you decided to indulge the part of the villain just a bit more. Earlier had simply been two kids talking, but now, you'd strut your heels and be the scariest female they'd ever seen, or try at least.

"Mmm, why must heroes be so predictable!" You stomped and let out a crazed pout.

Ojiro was taken back by your sudden behavioral change, not knowing how you and dad used to play hero and villain all the time. His eyebrows raised in question at your statement, and he took a few steps away. The task to become villains totally forgotten as he watched you throw a fit.

"Damn todoroki, it's cold up here now! Don't you fools get it. Missiles need heat. C'mon then pretty boy, hurry up and freeze us so we can see that dumb hero smirk! I know you want too~" You were talking to the floor, swinging your arms and legs around as you paced back and forth. Trying your best not to overthink the cheesy, embarrassing words coming from your mouth.

"Frozen?"

Turning to your partner you shot him a smirk, "Yeah, pretty boy thinks he can immobilize us from outside, pft. How silly of him, thinking I'd go down without dinner first." Your words were getting out of hand. Was this what villains were like, or were you just hiding some secret vulgar persona? He was confused until he saw the strained tears building in your wide eyes. You were doing this against your own nature, trying your best to succeed.

"So then, um L/n, you must have quite the plan to escape these pros and keep our missile intact, hahaha" His fake laughs were nowhere near as good as yours, but it eased you that he was trying.

Meanwhile, Shoji was waiting behind Todoroki, face completely red and eyes wide. He heard your comments easily, and was completely frozen on the image of, well, what you had insinuated.

"Why are you red?" todoroki questioned, as his teammate looked incredibly flustered. Had he done something to fluster shoji? He didn't think so.

"G-go, um, L/- she" he short circuited before he could finish, being completely flustered and no longer functional.

"Alright..."

Todoroki continued his way up the several floors of the building now covered in ice, having been told where the two of you were hiding along with the missile. His feet crunched loudly against the ice covered floors, a smirk residing on his face. The boy was a little upset at first that his first interaction with you would be like this.

However, images of his father in his mind made him remember his purpose for being here. He was supposed to be the best, and you were supposed to be a villain. Number one heroes dont take pity on a villain just because she's cute.

"This quirk is insane," He heard your partner speak before entering the room. Upon showing his face, Ojiro was quick to take a defensive stance, while you were off in the corner of the room, leaning against a wall, feet equally stuck to the ground.

"Pry yourself up if you want, but it might be hard to fight me with no skin on the bottom of your feet." He smirked.

Shoto was continuing to walk towards the missile, thinking he'd won. Until he heard two little clicks from the corner.

"God, they really have to stop catering these trainings to my quirk, pft. God, ice is slippery."

His head shot up at the sound of your voice, your feet seemed to be free of ice, and the floor where they had been stuck showed two irregular lumps of stiff concrete. How? He thought you manipulated metal? Were there metals in concrete?

"God, I really do love these glasses," you tapped them. "Make my life a lot easier, less scientific novels and what not." the voice you had was so casual, were you pretending to be shy this whole time? Or were you just a really good fake villain. He felt like you were a real villain, eyes perking up a bit at the idea of a challenge.

"Lets see, how many walls do you think I could drop on you before the building collapses? Two, maybe three? Or I could just tie you up, huh?"

He smirked, "Oh really, shy-girl? I'd like to see you try.."

His words shot through your act like a bullet, piercing you right in the heart. His voice should not be allowed to sound like that. It's unfair, cheating even. Your face changed from confident to wavering and hands began sweat. Could you really hurt him? You saw bakugou hurt midoriya earlier, he did it like second nature, but you wanted to be a hero, learn about villains and put them away, so you proceeded. This was your chance to show off your combat skills.

Zipping down the zipper on your chest, you remove the tiny holder for it, causing it to fall in your palm and begin to liquify. Your glasses told you the different metals in it, and that allowed you to focus on multiplying them, closing your eyes as the liquid began to grow.

Your partner was staring between the two of you, hoping whatever you were about to do was successful, since his feet really did hurt. Suddenly your finger began making a circular movement, the metallic liquid mimicking it. It flowed in a ring of silver around your middle body.

"Metal is a fun element, you know. It's easily found in almost every environment, easy to hide, and disobeys many scientific theories. Like this liquid metal here, it looks normal, but it only gets this way by becoming scorching hot." You winked at no one in particular and swung your finger down in a straight line, a mini-mimic of Iida's air chopping.

The hot fluid melted the concrete in a straight line on the floor, ice and ground in that area being dissolved completely. It felt good to use your power to win, you could tell from his eyes todoroki was scared. Maybe you were stronger than you thought?

Losing, however, was not what he was scared of. The wave of heat that fell over him after your swing sent him into terrible memories. His scar began to itch and burn at the recognition of heat. You saw that, too. How his fear held deeper meaning, and it made you scared of yourself. You didn't want to be a villain anymore, you just wanted this to be over, your eyes almost welled with tears at how mean you'd been, acting like the villain.

"I-um-ugh" Your foot stomped down on the floor, slipping a bit but forcing concrete to envelope the boy's feet, while simultaneously forcing the ground up and the temperature just hot enough to free your partner.

"J-Just, where's Shoji?"

"I'll get him, since you did the fighting here, l/n...." Ojiro stated, running out of the room, having been uncomfortable with the tension.

The next words to come out of your mouth should have been expected, but never had they meant so much to todoroki. His eyes were back to normal, face stone once again. Trying to pretend that fear he felt, those memories, were never there. Steel walls being put up once again to hide away hid feelings, but you manipulate metal.

Your e/c eyes shoot to look at the scar around his left eye and then back to his whole face. Taking a few steps closer to him, ignoring the teachers yell of how your team had won, you whispered.

"Im so sorry."

No one else would understand it, not the other students watching intently from the observation room, not your partners downstairs, but he did. Shoto heard those words, and felt your eyes lingering on it, and his chest got tight. You knew, and you didnt call it ugly, and you stopped using heat because you knew.

It was your job to be the villain at any cost, but you worked harder to not use heat. You weren't just sorry for scaring him, but for the fact that he had to be scared. So he spoke to you, for the first serious time, saying the only words that felt appropriate.

"Thank you."

[andrewmoocow]

Fooly Falls 2 Ride on Shooting Star chapter 1: Here We Go Again (originally posted on January 23, 2019)

AN: Greetings everyone! While I continue to work hard on the climax for Gravity Soul, I'm just gonna throw this into the ring. Ladies and germs, behold the long-awaited sequel to Fooly Falls! Before we begin, I just want to say that this takes place 20 years after the first story and centers on the twin children of Dipper and Mabel's own son that mainly takes from FLCL Progressive with elements of Alternative and some rewrites I found across the Internet. Now that we got all of this outta the way, let's finally return to the falls.

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"The world must be destroyed before it can become beautiful. This is the world I envisioned." a young girl narrated to herself in the middle of a destroyed town. "This is what I fear the world will become."

The girl strolled through the wreckage in a grey beanie cap on top of her brownhaired head. The rest of her body made it look like she came back from a great battle that she barely survived, rotting & almost falling apart, and out of her forehead was a large horn poking out. "But in this world, only my body is rotting. Becoming decayed. Yes, decayed. Maybe this is what my body could become."

As she continued her march, a collection of giant irons moved towards her from the distance held by equally large hands. "Maybe this is my true self." The girl soon turned and ran away. "But then finally I remembered. I'm still only a twelve-year old girl, not thinking about anything."

The girl continued running as her form slowly began to decompose. "Nothing normal ever happens around these parts. And it can only get weirder from here."

All covered in blood, the girl reached a half-submerged monster who's eye quickly burst open, causing her horn to react.

The girl screamed in terror as her body fell apart more and more, flesh and blood being replaced with metal until she emerged as a white robot with a bright blue visor. And just as the irons moved closer, the robot prepared for battle by sending one of the irons flying-

Gwen Pines suddenly burst from her sleep. Her normally straight brown hair was a mess from tossing and turning in her sleep while her younger brother Tyrone passionately sang along to the song that served as her alarm.

When the song ended, Tyrone looked at his sister with a smile. "Aah! After ten hours of sleep, you are free!" he exclaimed joyously. "It's time to conquer breakfast!"

"Good morning Tyrone." Gwen yawned rubbing her eyes. "Morning sis!" Tyrone exclaimed giving her a good morning hug before he noticed her messy hair. "Hey, what's up with your hair? Did you have that weird zombie robot dream again?"

"Pretty much." Gwen moaned picking up a brush to straighten her chocolate locks. "You ever wonder about the future Ty? You ever fear that you'll lose everything, and then yourself as well?"

"Nope! You're just thinking too far into the future." Tyrone assured her with a playful knock on her head. "Now come on, don't wanna keep Mommy waiting!"

Tyrone grabbed his older sister by the arm and dragged her downstairs to the kitchen, where their mother was already preparing breakfast. "Morning guys!" Wendy greeted them giving Tyrone a hug. "Morning Mommy! Where's Daddy at?" Tyrone asked squeezing his beloved mom tight before he let go. "Dipper's off at the Shack helping Stan again." Wendy answered serving the kids some scrambled eggs. "You wanna go deliver some coffee to him, Aunt Mabel and Aunt Pacifica?"

"Of course." Gwen quietly replied spotting three thermoses on the counter while finishing her scrambled eggs. "You must be as excited to go there today and see our friends as much as I am, right?" Tyrone added shoveling the remains of his serving down the hatch. "There's Ian, Leia, Juan & Jorge, Imelda, Abby, Mr. Soos, Melody and of course, Arnold!"

"Let's just go. I'll carry Dad's and Aunt Mabel's, you get Aunt Pacifica's." Gwen deadpanned preparing to leve their home for the Mystery Shack. The siblings picked up the thermoses of coffee and began heading out the door. "See you later Mommy!" Tyrone called running farther away. "See ya little dude!" Wendy hollered back before she stopped her elder daughter with her old axe. "And you too Gwen!"

"I'm way too old for that. Plus you're basically threatening me into saying bye." Gwen stated. "Okay, you're right on the whole threatening thing, but still!" Wendy exclaimed putting her axe away as Gwen sighed and finally said "Goodbye Mommy."

As a white haired woman in a blue Chevrolet Bel-Air watched through a pair of binoculars from a distance, the twins finally made it to the Mystery Shack where a peculiar yellow Vespa scooter was parked outside. The tourist trap itself looked nicer than it did twenty years ago, albeit the biggest change was the loose S on the sign now hastily nailed into place.

Stepping inside and switching the sign from closed to open, the kids were greeted with a few familiar sights.

Ian Ramirez, a broad-shouldered 17-year old young man with brown hair spiking back downward, a small goatee and a black leather jacket over a Mystery Shack employee T-shirt, was hard at work on getting everything ready.

Ian's sister Leia, an attractive 15-year old girl with her brown hair in a ponytail, an orange question mark symboled tanktop, denim shorts and hiking boots, manned the cash register like their mother before her, texting on her phone with a can of soda beside her.

And finally three boys sat down having a conversation. The first boy with dirty blonde hair was Arnold; age 10, the adopted son of their aunts Mabel & Pacifica clad in a purple sweatervest, black trousers with brown shoes, braces and a gold Northwest ring. The other ridiculously dressed two he was telling a story to were 11-year old twins Juan and Joseph, or Jorge as he preferred to be called.

"So then what did she do?" Juan asked getting more invested in Arnold's story. "Well, then she tried to pull a giant robot out of my forehead!" Arnold skittishly answered. "I had no idea I had those inside me, especially the one she found which then ran off into the night!"

"That is so awesome!" Jorge roared in excitement. "What was she like?! How hard did she hit you, what did she say, what were her measurements?!"

"Guys, you two are getting weird!" Arnold exclaimed. "Though not as weird as that skirt you're wearing Juan." He then brought attention to Juan's current fashion choices. "It's not a skirt, they call it a kilt in Scotland! Tons of men wore it, especially back in the old days!"

"Thanks for the history lesson Juan, but I'm asking you to please cover up underneath there!" Arnold added. "At least Jorge's wearing pants along with the sunglasses, fedora and clogs!"

"Morning you guys!" Tyrone interrupted their discussion. "Yo, Ty-die! Good to see you bro!" the brothers greeted him loudly followed by the three performing their secret handshake. "Let me guess, the joe's for your old man? He should be downstairs working with Ford." Juan stated pointing to the vending machine that served as a secret entrance to a hidden laboratory under the Shack.

"Morning little dudes!" Leia said getting up from behind the counter to tousle Tyrone's fluffy red hair. "Oh, greetings twins." Ian added wildly gesturing to the two. "You need any help with that coffee?"

"Sure, you know where Aunt Mabel is?" Tyrone replied handing of the thermoses to Ian. "Yes, she and Pacifica are upstairs with Dad helping Stan start his day." Suddenly there was a creaking noise followed by a yell. "Hey Ian, can you be a good dude and come upstairs please? Mr. Pines fell down again!"

"I'll be sure to bring it up to her." Ian declared taking two of the thermoses away and leaving the room. "Coming Dad!"

"So what's on your minds today guys? Other than tastes in fashion." Gwen asked the three boys. "We were just discussing some strange woman that attacked Arnold last night and tried to pull something out of his head." Juan answered just as the door opened. "What strange woman?"

A blonde woman with eyes completely hidden behind a pair of glasses stepped into the gift shop. "Excuse me, may I speak to one of the employees?" she asked monotonously. "I'm an employee here!" Leia answered. "Welcome to the Mystery Shack miss, how may I help you?"

"I am in town today to conduct a social experiment on the local youth." the woman explained. "Tell me your age young lady, along with the four young ones with you."

"Name's Leia Ramirez, age 15." Leia introduced herself shaking her hand. "This little gentleman Tyrone is nine years old, his sister Gwen is twelve, their cousin Arnold is ten and my little bros Juan & Joseph are eleven."

"Marvelous." the researcher said in dull excitement, drawing scribbles on a clipboard. "Now before my experiment can proceed, I'd like to ask you, as a selection of children part of our modern youth, a question. What in your estimation is the most important thing to you? Yes you, the weakest links in our society." she surveyed while Gwen quietly examined the text messages on her phone. "Yes, you over there with the pompadour?"

"I don't know." Juan answered showing how he was just as confused as everybody else in the room by adjusting his sweatband.

"Correct answer." the woman declared. "Not having clear or distinct answers for any question and feeling fulfilled through triggered animalistic sexual urges, that is the only life you know as youth with absolutely no skill to convince us otherwise."

"What is she on about?" Arnold asked arching an eyebrow. "I don't know, some philosophical crap." Jorge answered as the researcher went on. "It has been exactly one week to the day that I have first arrived in this small Oregon town and I must say, you are all eligible." Soon she opened a laptop that she pulled out. "Now, let the exam begin."

Gwen stared blankly at the laptop showing her some rather obscene activity between a teacher and his student while the other kids formed a line behind her. "So this is her idea of research, basically showing us porn?" Arnold whimpered while Tyrone snacked on some popcorn behind him. "I may not see it from here, but at least I can still hear and enjoy."

"Uh Ian, Leia? What's going on up here?" Mason Pines, better known to everyone as Dipper, asked returning from his studies behind the vending machine to catch everyone in the act of the woman's experiment. "Hey lady, she's only twelve!" he shouted taking the laptop away. "You shouldn't be showing her that!"

"And why do you object? Do you plan on looking at this yourself?" the woman asked snatching the laptop back from an embarrassed Dipper while his bearded face turned crimson and the other kids resisted the urge to laugh.

"What in the name of Sam Hill is all this about Dipper looking at porn?!" an aged Stanley Pines roared as Ian, Mabel Pines and Soos & Melody Ramirez wheeled him into the gift shop.

"Hi Greatkle Stan! This science lady is showing us this stuff for some reason. She said it's to make us react or something." Tyrone chirped handing Dipper his coffee. Gwen then switched to another video, again eliciting no reaction. "Would it kill you to have even the tiniest reaction to this?" the scientist asked just as emotionless as her test subject. "You don't want to wait until you're over the hill to this adolescence, do you?"

Gwen soon began to get up. "Fine, I've seen all I need to." the mystery visitor snarked. "Which one of you is next?"

"He volunteers as tribute!" Tyrone shouted raising Arnold's arm for him. "Eh, I don't need to test you Arnold." the woman shrugged. "Now hold on lady! If you want to test on any more of these impressionable youths, you'll have to buy something first!" Stan declared as Gwen went downstairs to the elevator behind the vending machine and went down to the third floor.

She entered the lab that her great-granduncle Stanford Pines once used to conduct his research on the odd town of Gravity Falls, now covered in dust & cobwebs with the portal he had created still dismantled and rusting. "Uh, Great-Grunkle Stanford?"

"Oh hello there Gwendolyn! How do you do?" her genius great-granduncle exclaimed shaking his great-grandniece's hand. "Never thought you would come down here all by yourself. Usually someone like Tyrone, Arnold, Ian, your father or your aunt would accompany you. So what brings you to my lab?"

"I wanted to talk to you about a nightmare I had." Gwen answered. "What do you know about giant clothes irons?" she asked, sending chills down Ford's crooked back. "G-giant clothes irons?!" the elderly author shivered racing to fish out a copy of the Gravity Falls Gossiper dating back two decades ago. "Never thought I would pull this out, but here goes."

Ford then began to read. "Gravity Falls Gossiper, date August 2012. 'Aftermath of the Oregon Fooly Cooly of 2012.' Town recovers from mass havoc caused by crazed motorist and her robot companion. According to Commander Amarao of the Department of Interstellar Immigration, this young lady broke into the home of local con-artist Stan Pines and declared herself his maid. In the chaos that ensued, space birds, bass guitars, alternative rock, robots, all-powerful time-stopping megalomaniacs, sexual innuendos and reversal of gravity were involved."

"Did that actually happen Stanford?" Gwen asked. "As much as I hate to say it, but yes." Ford answered resignedly. "We all thought we either decided to forget it ever happened or maybe it didn't occur at all, but your visions of clothes irons in your dreams now leads me to fear the worst. Medical Mechanica is at it again."

Far across town, the Medical Mechanica plant stood idly as always, in the process of reconstruction as it groaned, letting off steam.

When Gwen returned to the surface after her conversation with Ford, she began helping out the Ramirez family with the tourists alongside Tyrone and Arnold. However two in particular stood out, one was a red-haired man in a ballcap while the other was an old man with an eye-patch.

"Hey princess, can I get any idea on the next tour?" the one-eyed senior asked. "'Scuse me miss, but do you have any of those fur-covered trouts in stock." the other man added. "Can you help me choose what to but Gwennie?" another tourist said.

"Old tourists, am I right?" Imelda Ramirez, the second daughter of Soos & Melody wearing a purple dress, flower barrette and a worn-out expression, groaned. "It's so glad that out of everyone in our little circle, I relate to you the most." she complimented. "Only replace the nihilism with being overworked from being the Shack's financial advisor, watching over my baby sister Abby when my parents are too busy and having to deal with my eldest siblings."

"I love it when Gwen has that attitude around us." the eyepatched elder remarked serenely. "I just adore it when we're looked down upon by her judging expression." the third tourist added. "Same here." Suddenly the eyepatch man received a list of future tour times from Imelda before she returned to Gwen's side. "And the little one is pretty fiery too. So much pressure on her shoulders and keeps a cool head no matter what."

"I guess it's a hardknock life for someone like me who has to deal with Mr. Overdramatic, the party-girl and those two." Imelda snarked before her baby sister Abby pulled on her skirt with a finger painting in hand. "Hold on one second my friend, I must give a thorough analysis on a finger painting." she added speedwalking away like Marvin the Martian.

"Thank you so much for the help you guys. Maybe someday you can get your own jobs." Melody thanked the three Pines kids while patting her pregnant stomach. "Perhaps your first can be watching over our expected newborn. Still in the dark on whether it'll be a boy or a girl."

"If it does turn out to be a boy, it should have a cool name like Darkside or Steppenwolf!" Tyrone exclaimed just as the twins' mother pulled up to the Shack in a logging truck. "That must be Aunt Wendy. See you guys tomorrow." Arnold said opening the door for his aunt while his cousins walked outside. "But maybe you won't need us to watch over your baby. You ever thought of hiring a nanny?"

"Would really love to, but Soos and the kids aren't too big on all the choices since they're not practically perfect in every way." Melody answered stepping outside as well before the plant began to wheeze. "Still don't know what gave Stan the idea to turn that old place into a tourist attraction." Wendy commented. "Even makes the same sound, which always meant something crazy was going to happen."

Indeed something insane was on the horizon as Gwen's grey beanie began vibrating atop her head. "Uh hey Gwen, you okay?" Arnold asked before the bobble on top of it began glowing red as a car approached.

A blue Chevrolet Bel-Air came zooming towards them, and in the backseat sat a dark-skinned woman with white hair in a ponytail wearing a green tube top with a short lavender jacket, a strange orange-rimmed visor covering up a pair of red stripes vertically crossing over her eyes, a white belt with a silver heart buckle, a pair of black leggings underneath a matching skirt and white boots. By her side was a Fender Jazzmaster guitar as she got closer to Gwen specifically.

"KYAAAAAAH, EVERYBODY RUUUUN!" Arnold screamed at the top of his lungs shoving everybody except his cousin out of the way, and as a result she was hit by the Bel-Air & sent flying, her beanie coming loose from her head as well.

"Gwen!" Wendy shouted rushing to her daughter's side while Tyrone & Arnold gaped in awe of what just happened. "That was a close one. My apologies." the woman stated hopping out of her car. "A little bit more and she would've overflowed."

"Overflowed?" Melody wondered as the mystery car driver inspected Gwen. "That's strange. I'm sure it was a fatal hit." she examined. "Unfortunately to all of you, this young girl is going to be fine."

"The only thing that's more unfortunate is how you nearly killed her!" Wendy shouted angrily. "Can you do that on me too?" Tyrone squealed in excitement as his sister got back up. "Oh hey sis, you were victim to a hit and run!"

Gwen shook her head before she turned to find the woman trying on her hat. "Hey, that's mine!" she shouted. "Why would you wear something like this in the summer?" the woman pondered when Gwen demanded it back. "Just hand it over and leave us alone!"

"Where did you get this hat?" the woman asked her. "It looks like something you get out of a store, but it seems bizarre in origin." Gwen then took her beanie back and put it back on. "I just found it one day, when I was like seven."

"I don't think you should wear that, it doesn't suit you." the woman commented. "Shielding your thoughts from the future like that, must be your thing. When you hit pause on the world like that, your body slowly begins to rot away. Is that what you want to happen to you?"

Gwen suddenly began having flashbacks to her earlier nightmare while the woman returned to her car. "Sorry for being so out of the loop, but what's this about pausing the world and bodies rotting away?" Melody wondered. "Just so you know, I take full responsibility for your daughter hanging on by her life." the woman said before she turned to Gwen while putting on her shades. "Oh and by the way, careful of the woman on the Vespa. For your own good."

As the mystery woman drove off into the sunset, Arnold suddenly raced to his cousin's side. "The nerve of that crazy lady! Why does she think running people over will save their lives?! And what is she on about a woman on a Vespa?!"

"Who was she? And what's with her?" Gwen added morosely. "Even if she's kinda like a criminal, you have to admit she's got a cool car." Melody stated trying to look on the bright side. "Maybe I should have a word with the rest of the fam about her."

Later that night, Gwen sat in her bed gazing at her computer while Tyrone slept like a baby in his. "There's nothing I want to be. There's nothing I want to do." she silently monologued to herself. "I don't even have an image of what I want to be. I have nothing. All that exists is zero."

Suddenly she saw more flashbacks to her nightmare which caused her to quietly freak out and smack her keyboard. "Mmm, I am wood. Stupid." Tyrone mumbled in his sleep while snuggling his plush pig Waddles II. Suddenly the sirens of Medical Mechanica began blaring leading Gwen to gaze out the window. The girl saw nothing, except for a robot that burst through it and searched for her.

"S-sis? What's going o-" Tyrone yawned spotting just what was going on. "Don't worry, I'll save you!" he cried grabbing onto his sister's leg as the robot tossed them outside.

"Gwen, is everything alright sweetheart?" Wendy called turning on her & Dipper's bedroom light. "Mom! Dad!" Gwen cried for her parents before she and Tyrone made a run for it.

Meanwhile Dipper looked out the window to see what was going on until he spotted the cybernetic creature running amok and the spotlights on Medical Mechanica. "Oh God, here we go again!" he fretted rushing to the phone to call his beloved sister. "You reach Mabel Pines! Can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message-"

"Mabel, this is no time for your fake voicemail messages! My children are in danger!" Dipper shouted frantically on the other end. "Also, were you camping out by the phone just for that?"

"Yeah pretty much." Mabel replied earnestly. "Can you please go back to bed Mabel?" the Pines sister's wife Pacifica yawned grumpily. "Can't talk babe, gonna save my niece and nephew!" Mabel stated. "Good, and bring the scrapbook too!" Dipper ordered. "I think it's finally time we talked."

Later, Dipper pushed open the garage door to find a familiar Vespa resting near his car. "Been working on fixing this old thing for ages. Never took it for a spin until now." he muttered pulling out an Oxton brand cigarette to light up. "She left us one like her own when she left twenty years back; in case we changed our minds, until Stan broke it trying to escape some former old friends. Guess now must be a good time."

"Hey bro-bro, I made it!" Mabel cried hugging her brother from behind. "And I brought the scrapbook, just like you wanted!"

"Good, now let's save my kids." Dipper declared before the two hopped on the Vespa and sped off, leaving a trail of cigarette smoke behind them.

Meanwhile, Gwen and Tyrone continued running from the giant robot that was continuing to pursue them, tearing up various cars in its path until one made Arnold fly off its back and into Gwen's arms. "Gwen, Tyrone?! What are you doing so late?"

"We're just running from that thing!" Tyrone exclaimed pointing to the machine. "Could it be the same one the lady got outta you?"

"I have no idea either!" Arnold replied just as they passed the junkyard. "Wait, I got an idea! We can hide in here!" he said jumping out of her cousin's arms and climbing over the fence. "Come on!"

The three of them rushed to the nearest ramshackle hut that seemed like it hasn't been inhabited in years and hid indoors. Meanwhile the Bel-Air owner drove around town in search of the robot. "It's started to move, but which is it?"

"Didn't some crazy guy use to live here?" Tyrone asked quietly knocking on the metal wall. "Yeah, Professor McGucket! He's still living in the old Northwest Mansion, right?" Arnold followed up when Gwen shushed them both. The tentacled machine continued lumbering about searching for the three kids.

"Much like you guys, I have no idea what that thing is. I was only walking home and then it just showed up." Arnold said hyperventilating. "You were out this late too?" Gwen asked. "I had things to do!" the anxious cousin replied. "Though I feel like that thing came from my head."

The outside noises soon stopped, followed by the trio exiting the hut. "I think we may've lost him." Tyrone panted, glad that they were still alive. Gwen on the other hand got another flashback to her nightmare as the robot suddenly reappeared to attack once more. "Dangit, spoke too soon!"

"Oh good grief, what the hell's going on?!" Arnold screamed before the robot extended an arm in an attempt to grab Gwen, but her cousin took her place and tossed around the air before being smacked to the ground. "Hey robotman, you got the wrong Ahnold!" Tyrone challenged in a thick Austrian accent while picking up a nearby fencepost to fight with, but Gwen received more visions of a potentially grisly fate in the cards for the two boys.

Terrified, Gwen began groaning in pain as something acted up in her head while her beaning began glowing. Nearby, an orange-haired woman watched through some binoculars with a grin but then took notice of the Bel-Air and Dipper & Mabel speeding toward the junkyard.

In the nick of time, the mystery woman from earlier crashed her vehicle into the robot and revved her bass up like a chainsaw before giving it one fatal smack. The car skidded back onto the ground and the woman touched down with it. "I see now, that's how it is huh?"

"Don't worry sweetheart, we're coming!" Dipper cried as he and Mabel arrived too late, finding the robot already taken out and an unconscious Arnold being interrogated by a strange lady. "Aw man, we missed it! I was so ready to give that thing tetanus!" Mabel groaned in disappointment. "And who's she?"

"Hey, where is she? The one who pulled that out of you?!" the woman shouted shaking Arnold's body. "Is that you Great-Grandpa Auldman? I can see a light." Arnold groaned. "DON'T GO INTO THE LIGHT ARNIE, YOU HAVE SO MUCH TO LIVE FOR!" Tyrone screamed just as Dipper grabbed his arm. "Answer me! You were hit, weren't you?" the woman continued. "Was it a woman on a Vespa?"

"V-Vespa?" Mabel stuttered turning to her brother, who just nodded and pointed at the scrapbook still on the seat of his motorbike, while the woman picked Arnold up. "Uh, hey." Dipper piped up. "Who are you? And is Arnold going to be okay?"

"I'm going to do what I can for his wounds." the woman said. "Now you two get the kids home safe." She began to walk away with Arnold over her shoulder when Gwen stopped her. "Wait a minute!"

"Oh by the way." the woman smiled taking off her shades to gaze at the other Pines with her red eyes. "That thing does look good on you. Nice."

As the woman drove off with Arnold by her side, Gwen looked at herself in a broken piece of glass to discover a red horn growing on her head. "Kinda reminds me of when I was your age." her father calmly declared putting a hand on her head. "Mabel, scrapbook."

"You got it Dips!" Mabel exclaimed handing Dipper an old scrapbook of summer memories from when they were Gwen's age. Blowing some dust off the cover as he sat down on the ground, he opened it and flipped to a section marked with an old photo of them with their great-uncles, Soos, a pink-haired young lady and a robot with a TV for a head. "Kids, we'd like you to meet Haruko Haruhara."

"What a funny name!" Tyrone commented sitting down on his aunt's lap. "I still remember when we first met her. We were searching for the grave of some ancient evil when she popped outta nowhere and beat Dipper with her guitar!" Mabel explained. "Then she decided to move in with us and become our live-in maid, though she barely did any maid work."

"What did she do instead?" Gwen asked. "She took our on all kinds of crazy adventures, like when we found a robot named Canti being worshipped as a god by Wendy & her friends, or the revenge trip she went on with Stan!" Dipper said flipping to photos of those times. "And let's not forget baseball!"

"But then we would learn about a Pirate King Haruko was searching for from this guy with big eyebrows. She wanted to find him to become super-powerful and also had a crush on the guy." Dipper added. "It turned out this weird dog thing Ford found played an important part in helping these Medical Mechanica guys smooth out everything, turning everyone into mindless zombies."

"You mean like in the movies" Yeah, definitely wouldn't be pretty!" Tyrone remarked. "So who was this Pirate King? Is it anything like that old pirate show Mr. Soos sings about?"

"Nope, this guy was far different!" Mabel answered. "He was a big space bird that had the power to steal entire solar systems! But Dipper, with help from Canti, was able to control his awesomeness which got Haruko super mad."

"But when all was said and done, she decided to ditch Earth to continue searching for him and even offered to bring us along." Dipper narrated flipping to one last page of a picture of him as a boy holding a bass guitar and gazing into the sky. "We declined so she left us her guitar and a Vespa in case we changed our minds. We thought that would be the last we would hear of her, until one day when we were just 18."

"Can you believe that we're literally adults now Dipper?!" an 18-year old Mabel exclaimed to Dipper as they rested on the rooftop of their Piedmont home. "The world around us has been changing so much! We have our own loves now, Soos & Melody have their first kids and the Stans are still out at sea."

"It's pretty scary, isn't it? To think that it seemed like yesterday when we first arrived in Gravity Falls." Dipper replied. "And all the summer adventures we had there too like fighting Bill, meeting the 8 1/2th president, that merman guy, the Society of the Blind Eye," Suddenly Dipper spotted something glowing red in the night sky. "Is that an Aurora Borealis?"

"Aurora Borealis in this part of the country at this time of day?" his sister skeptically responded. "It might as well be fireworks, or some other natural sky thing or-"

"Or she finally did it." Dipper declared standing up. "Who finally did it?" Mabel wondered before she finally realized what he was talking about. "Oh. Gotta say, for a complete maniac, she sure was determined. I'll give her that."

Meanwhile far above the Earth, Haruko had finally found the fearsome Pirate King Atomsk. She reached her hand out and at last absorbed him into her being. The Vespa Woman began shining a bright red just like the solar system thief before her body started acting up and the power of Atomsk split her in two.

Back on Earth in Gravity Falls, the Stan twins looked to the stars at the event taking place before their sixty-four year old eyes while the other Vespa Haruko had left behind rested on the side of the Mystery Shack.

"Whoa." the kids gasped in unison. "I really hope we can meet that Haruko! She sounds really cool!" Tyrone cheered bouncing up and down before Dipper stopped him. "I admire your enthusiasm son, but I suggest you stay far away from her if she has come back her." he cautioned. "Beneath her wily personality is a sociopath who can manipulate anyone to get her way. It happened to us, and we don't want it to happen to you."

"But what about that other lady with the glasses that took Arnold away? Could she be connected to Haruko as well?" Gwen wondered. "Maybe. She does use a guitar as a weapon like her." her aunt answered just as the twins began dozing off. "Aw, looks like you're both tuckered out."

"I'll take them both home." Dipper stated picking them both up and walking to the Vespa. "Same time tomorrow at the Mystery Shack?"

"You bet broseph." Mabel agreed. "See you in the morning light." With that, the twins parted ways back to their homes, Mabel to break the news about Arnold to Pacifica and Dipper to put his own children back to sleep.

The next day at the Mystery Shack, it was business as usual. However the robot from last night was still fresh in the minds of Gwen, Tyrone, Dipper & Mabel, especially the latter two who were being chewed out by Pacifica in regards to Arnold. "So you're telling me some psycho woman in a Bel-Air just kidnapped him, in the middle of the night?!"

"I'm so sorry this happened honey, but that lady did say she would take care of him." Mabel defended themselves. "But hopefully he can come back."

"Was that robot the same one she got outta Arnold's head earlier?" Juan asked Tyrone across the room. "I have no idea. But then just as my dad and aunt came to save us, this lady with the guitar beat it up all Quick Draw McGraw-like!" Tyrone explained. "And then Gwen got this horn on her head that Daddy said was like one that he got when he was her age."

"Wait, a horn? Is she turning into a rhino or a unicorn?" Jorge wondered. "Is your dad part unicorn too?!"

"Pretty sure he's not, but he and Aunt Mabel did talk to us about some lady they met who's connected to her horn." Tyrone said. "And she may or may not be connected to that lady who brained Arnold."

"That's good to know, but who is she?" Jorge asked, just as curious as his brother. "Where did she come from, why is she here?"

"No one knows for sure," Dipper suddenly butted into the children's discussion. "But Ford and I intend to find out!"

Just then Melody and Soos stepped into the gift shop. "Morning everyone!" the current proprietor of the tourist trap exclaimed. "Hey, can we pull Gwen and Tyrone aside for a bit? There's someone who wants to see them."

"Sure, you can take 'em. Just bring them back in time for the tourist rush!" Dipper accepted before Pacifica pulled on his jacket collar. "Oh no you don't Dipper, I still have some choice words for you about Arnold!"

As the former heiress let loose on the author's apprentice, Soos & Melody took the twins into the kitchen where a familiar face wearing a maid outfit was doing the dishes while breaking them. "Remember her? She decided to work for us as a way to say sorry for running you over Gwen!" Melody said. "Now say hi Jinyu."

The maid turned to the twins with a plate in her hands. "I'm Jinyu." Julia Jinyu stoically introduced herself. Despite the collected vibe she gave off, she then immediately snapped the plate in two.

"Morning everyone." Arnold sheepishly greeted while his face was covered in bandages, causing the Ramirez brothers to show concern. "What happened to you Arnold?!" Ian cried whirling his arms about. "You look like you've gotten into a freak accident!" Juan exclaimed. "Give us all the details."

"Well it all started last night when I was taken by a giant robot that was also chasing Gwen & Tyrone." Arnold explained. "We then hid in the junkyard where we were saved by this lady in a car who ran Gwen over earlier that day. After all that everything was kind of a blur, but I can tell you it was insane."

As Arnold finished, Gwen & Tyrone, Stan & Ford and the researcher from yesterday all entered the shop. "Well this is just one big coinky-dink." Stan commented. "We all managed to enter the room at the same time."

"And there's also something up with both that woman over there and the maid Soos hired." Ford added. "Both of them seem so familiar."

"Today, as you start on your understandably disastrous day as modern-day youth, I as someone who is the clear winner in life structurally, would like to present to you something very important." the female scientist declared grabbing everyone's attention, even other tourists getting an early start.

Gwen on the other hand paid no attention to anything except her text messages, which started as one person claiming he should have his chance at a girl now. "The this and that on how to live in the universe. All of you already know about it, as all days of your lives are like a test. Yes, you over there?"

"Uh..." Juan stammered puzzled. "Wrong answer." the woman continued. "I figured something out recently. Instead of preparing a concrete answer to random questions, I have come to the conclusion that there is no real way to live. Not for those of you who exist contently by only jerking your animalistic sexual urges to fulfillment, and you who have absolutely no skill to convince us otherwise."

Soon the messages started a stream of spelling errors that turned into a bizarre message of "FLCL." Gwen just muttered "fooly, cooly." as the scientist went on. "I gave so much, but there is very little output. I have no use for the tiny pieces of scumbags that have been toyed with. Listen to a genius: I have no desire for you all to wind up as nonexistent youth."

"What is she on about?" Stanley whispered. "I have no idea to be honest, but can you notice the subtle change in her voice?" Stanford answered. "Familiar, ain't it?"

"What I want is for all of you to become adults on a cosmological scale!" the scientist suddenly exclaimed, her change in tone startling everyone. "You don't need wings to go venture out into the universe. Who would ride a four-wheeled car with wings anyway? You must not be that kind of adult."

The other pairs of Pines twins became even more suspicious as she continued. "Do you hear me?!" the woman shouted as her pitch became more recognizable. "YOU DON'T NEED FOUR WHEELS! YOU ONLY NEED TWO! Like a bottom-feeding fish in a pond, gathering underneath a weeping willow tree! There's a lot of gravity underneath ALL OF YOU!"

Soon the messages turned into an endless stream of people saying FLCL despite Gwen not realizing what it meant. The woman started rambling in gibberish and made her declaration. "SO STAND UP! BE AS ADEQUATE AS YOU CAN!" A COMPLETE MESS!" She grabbed at her own face and tore it off like a mask, revealing the face of the Vespa Woman Haruko Haruhara underneath. "BORN TO BE MILD!"

The crowd started roaring, though emotions were mixed. The vast hypnotized majority were elated to see her, but the Pines were less than thrilled. Arnold, Gwen and Tyrone were stunned to finally meet that feared Vespa Woman, especially the latter two after their discussion with Dipper & Mabel last night, but the older twins were full on terrified.

"WHAAAAAT?!" Dipper and Mabel screamed with their eyes widening, jaws dropped and snot dribbling from their noses. "OOOOOOH MY GOOOOOOOD!" Stan exclaimed pressing his hands to his face. Ford on the other hand didn't scream at the top of his lungs, but rather stuttering at the sight of that girl back in Gravity Falls before collapsing in shock.

"That's right, the real one's finally appearing." Haruko announced with a sly wink and a grin.

And that is the first chapter of Fooly Falls 2! I hope you all enjoyed how I've adapted FLCL Progressive with my own flair to it along with the new major characters I created. Speaking of which, I've also got my imaginary list of voice actors for them.

Gwen Pines: Stephanie Sheh (Mamini Samejima, Orihime Inoue)

Tyrone Pines: Barbara Goodson (Naota Nandaba, Rita Repulsa)

Arnold Pines: Justin Briner (Izuku Midoriya, abridged Cloud Strife)

Ian Ramirez: Doug Erholtz (Jean-Pierre Polnareff, Squall Leonhart)

Leia Ramirez: Barbara Dunkelman (Yang Xiao Long)

Juan Ramirez: Danny Pudi (Huey Duck, Brainy Smurf)

Jorge Ramirez: Bobby Moynihan (Louie Duck, Panda)

Imelda Ramirez: Monica Rial (Tsuyu Asui, Bulma Briefs, Tsubaki Nakatsukasa)

Abby Ramirez: Grey DeLisle (Lily Loud)

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to work on the next chapter of this, start thinking up the finale of Gravity Soul and hide from some particularly vitriolic shippers. See you all again!

[biofunmy]

A Song in His Heart. It Was for Her.

When he feels the spirit, Isaiah Rothstein bursts into song. He felt it on his first date with Leah Gottfried in early 2018. They were in Bryant Park and bird droppings landed in his food, and so he then took her to the top of Rockefeller Center. Standing next to Ms. Gottfried there, he felt the need to do more than just comment on the view of Manhattan.

“I think in musical language sometimes,” he said. “If this moment were a song, what it would be? And then I’ll just play. People usually jive on it I think.”

She jived on it, though she does not quite remember the lyrics: “It was something about all the miles of the city that he saw,” she said. “Something about miles.”

Mr. Rothstein, 30, and Ms. Gottfried, 28, are a modern Orthodox power couple. He is the rapping, singing frontman of Zayah and a rabbi for Hazon in New York, which calls itself the Jewish lab for sustainability. He was one of Jewish Week’s 36 under 36 for 2019, which applauded his ambition to “follow in the footsteps of the ‘Hamilton’ creator Lin-Manuel Miranda.” Mr. Rothstein is working on a musical about Queen Esther, the figure of legend who foiled a genocide of the Jewish people.

But Mr. Rothstein is a C-lister when compared with Ms. Gottfried, a child actor who had her first agent when she was 11 and is frequently featured in Jewish publications including Kveller.com and Jewess Magazine. Her web series “Soon By You,” reminds its viewers of an Orthodox take on “Friends.”

“Soon By You” makes liberal use of Ms. Gottfried’s own dating experiences. It features a lot of confused men.

“I’ve had guys be really puzzled about filmmaking in general and with a woman wanting to be a filmmaker and how does that work with a family?” said Ms. Gottfried, who runs her own production company. “Or they pitch me their own idea for movies. That has happened so many times. So many of my dates were like bad pitch meetings that I didn’t sign up for.”

Mr. Rothstein didn’t want to one-up Ms. Gottfried; he wanted to impress her. For their third date, he drove from Crown Heights, Brooklyn, to Passaic, N.J., where she was living at the time, in the middle of a snowstorm. Nothing was open, except for a Dunkin’ Donuts, so the two spent hours there, in song (the radio played the Dixie Chicks cover of “Landslide,” prompting a singalong) and in silence.

“There was a stillness,” Mr. Rothstein said, “which is funny for me because I talk a lot.”

He dropped her home at 1 a.m., and by the time he arrived in Brooklyn two hours later, he knew he was in trouble: He really cared about her.

Though Mr. Rothstein is (very) extroverted, he does not like feeling emotionally exposed. He grew up in Monsey, N.Y., feeling different from his peers, as a white-passing member of one of the few multiracial families in town. He was often asked if his mother, who is black, was his nanny, and was told he wasn’t a real Jew. School days would often end in fistfights.

Those experiences pushed Mr. Rothstein to grapple with his Jewish identity as he grew older. He ended up staffing seven separate birthright trips to Israel. By the last few, he had come to realize that he had a passion for “creating positive Jewish experiences for people.” He decided to become a rabbi.

Ms. Gottfried grew up blocks away from Mr. Rothstein in Monsey, but did not meet him until late 2017. She was raised ultra-Orthodox for the first five years of her life, until her parents divorced and her mother transitioned to modern Orthodox, which seeks a balance between Jewish tradition and the modern world.

Her mother, Esther Litchfield-Fink, and she, are “like, ‘Gilmore Girls’ level close,” Ms. Gottfried said, referring to the Amy Sherman Palladino show about a mother and daughter who are best friends. Ms. Gottfried and Ms. Litchfield-Fink love all of Ms. Palladino’s shows including “Bunheads” and, of course, “The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel.”

“For awhile she wanted me to be a lawyer I think because I was so argumentative as a kid,” Ms. Gottfried said. “But she also very much supported my career decisions. Sometimes she doesn’t like how I dress.” (Ms. Litchfield-Fink thinks her daughter’s outfits could stand to be a little more provocative.)

Others in Ms. Gottfried’s community growing up were put off by her chutzpah, and her interest in performing. It took her a long time, she said, to find Jews with whom she could feel completely comfortable being herself. One space that felt particularly right was Hevria, an online community of creative Jews. In November 2017, Ms. Gottfried and Mr. Rothstein attended one of the group’s open-mic nights in Crown Heights, where they met. A month later, Ms. Gottfried read a poem at a Hevria event and afterward, Mr. Rothstein messaged her on Facebook and asked for a copy.

They ran into each other again a few months later at a Jewish conference in Princeton, N.J., where they both gave presentations about their backgrounds; each attended the other’s. Toward the end of the weekend, he asked her out. They already knew so much about each other that small talk barely felt necessary.

By the time, Ms. Gottfried’s mother met Mr. Rothstein, at Leah’s 27th birthday party in April 2018, the relationship had accelerated. In August, the couple posted a music video they had made together (she directed, he starred) to YouTube.

Last Thanksgiving, he proposed. Via song, of course.

Ms. Litchfield-Fink knew Mr. Rothstein was the man for her daughter, she said, when Ms. Gottfried told her he was the right person.

“I trust her judgment 100 percent so I knew that no matter what I thought it was up to her and it had to come from her,” she said.

Their engagement lasted six and a half months. Their secular friends thought that was pretty short. Their Orthodox relatives questioned why it was taking so long.

But on June 16, a diverse group of Jews convened on Oz Farm in Saugerties, N.Y., where rain had turned the fields to mud, leading to a celebration that was as improvisational and joyous as one of Mr. Rothstein’s songs. The marriage was celebrated by a Judaism of dark robes and golden rompers, of flower crowns and shtreimels (fur hats), of side curls and hair dyed scarlet, and of unceasing music.

“This is like a hipster Jewish mecca,” said Chavie Lieber, a journalist for Business of Fashion and one of Mr. Rothstein’s oldest friends. As she explained what about the wedding was traditional and what was not, her husband, Yoni Stokar, walked over and was asked to guess how many rabbis he thought were in attendance.

“Thirty-five,” he said.

“Self-identified rabbis or actually ordained rabbis?” Ms. Lieber asked.

The formal proceedings began with Rabbi Dovid’l Weinberg conducting the bedeken ceremony, as Mr. Rothstein and his guests celebrated the wedding to come, slowly making their way over to where Ms. Gottfried sat with her own guests. The traditional veiling ceremony began, which most of the guests watched through their phones. The groom was flanked by Hasidim in formal wear. A friend of Mr. Rothstein’s, Zach Mayer, played a soprano saxophone as the men swayed and sang.

“I met my girlfriend after Isaiah and I started singing together,” Mr. Mayer said. “I feel like he just radiates love.”

There was a lull after the bedeken, as the band got in place and the more observant attendees paused to observe the afternoon prayer. Ms. Gottfried and her mother disappeared. Mr. Rothstein, clean-shaven and dressed all in white, was flanked by a bearlike South African Jew, Folli Tessler, who served as his shomer, or watchman. Mr. Rothstein excused himself to speak to his mother, Tanya Rothstein, who was dressed in gold.

“Traditionally there was a concept that on the day of a person’s wedding or two days before, they would have someone watch the groom because there was a tradition of persecution before wedding days and exciting things,” Mr. Tessler explained, visibly nervous to be separated from his charge.

The ceremony began, with the band (including Mr. Stokar) leading. Traditional Hebrew songs were paired with Disney melodies from “The Lion King” and “Mulan.” Mr. Rothstein, standing under the huppah, was handed a guitar. “New age,” one guest muttered. “Right, right,” her companion responded.

He started singing, and Ms. Gottfried walked in. She moved toward the huppah and the mothers led her in a circle around Mr. Rothstein. Prayers were offered. As is traditional, men read seven blessings; as is not, they were accompanied by women, who read seven intentions for the marriage.

Babies were introduced to one another. Multiple shofars, or ram’s horns, blew. Guests declined to remain in their seats, and crowded close to the huppah. After about 45 minutes, Ms. Gottfried, not Mr. Rothstein, punctuated the ceremony by smashing a glass. The bride and groom retreated into solitude with several witnesses. Everyone waited. “I’m starving,” Ms. Gottfried said. Finally, they emerged on horseback.

There was wild, gender-segregated dancing and the dinner, where Ms. Gottfried took the microphone.

“Isaiah’s always performing for me, singing and rapping,” she said. “I thought I would perform for you for once.” A drumbeat started, and Ms. Gottfried began to rap about a boy with a guitar who strummed and strummed his way into her heart.

ON THIS DAY

When June 16, 2019

Where Oz Farm, an events space, in Saugerties, N.Y.

Stormy Weather It rained incessantly the day of the wedding, which forced the proceedings inside. The bathrooms, in two trailers outside the barn, were filled with men changing mud-coated sneakers into dress shoes.

Divine Yenta Various people at the wedding, including Mr. Rothstein’s older brother J.R. Rothstein, claimed some responsibility for having introduced the two. The couple had thought this might happen. “People always say like, ‘How’d you meet, were you set up?’ and I very much feel like God orchestrated the entire thing,” the bride said. The groom agreed. “Whenever people try to take credit for setting us up,” he said shaking his head. “We set ourselves up and God set us up. You didn’t set us up. Thank you.”

Roving Shofar The ram’s horn, traditionally blown to celebrate the Jewish New Year, made several appearances during the wedding ceremony, traveling around the room. Its sound is similar to that of a swan whooping with a constricted windpipe.

Breaking the Glass The couple decided, as a gesture of inclusivity, to task Ms. Gottfried with stomping on the wineglass, traditionally a task for the groom. She looked apprehensive but determined, as she lifted her foot and brought it down hard. “I did it!” she shouted into her husband’s ear.

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