#not a fan of the laser focused hate on Steven when we are talking about a company-wide shift but hey I can't fucking police anyone's opinio

[virfujiwara]

This is gonna tank but eyyyy new BFUCU art for my sideblog lol

I suppose it's incredibly ironic that Phil is a perpetually broke vampire in my universe </3

[out-of-jams]

Airplane Mode | Track 03: Magic Shop | jhs

Summary: Inspired by Love at First Touch by bagelswrites. 

In a world where a bruise marks the first touch of your soulmate, time is the only thing that matters. The marks take hours to appear, sometimes even days if you're really unlucky. Once First Touch is initiated, both parties only have a few weeks to find the other. From then on, the body begins to reject any form of sustenance other than the touch of the other. If one fails to find their soulmate in time, they starve to death. So what happens when your soulmate is a world famous idol?And you're just one fan in a sea of many who can't even speak the same language?

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem Character

Word Count: 4.7k

Genre: Fluff. Angst. Idol!au. Smut. Soulmate!au. Explicit language.

Warnings: Chapter contains swearing.

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Standing in the middle of the busy Manhattan sidewalk, Eunjae ignored the flow of pedestrians brushing against her long, grey peacoat. A shaky exhale left her lips as she stared up through the lenses of her tinted sunglasses at the modern building towering above. A thick, black knitted scarf wound itself around her neck, tucked high enough to hide most of the bruising on her face. Eunjae had spent forty minutes that morning just trying to slap enough foundation on her cheeks to hide the ugly marks. However, the bruises from First Touch were impossible to completely cover. At least, according to Google.

So much for a first impression. Eunjae thought, grunting when the shoulder of a small child rammed into her ribs. She gave a tiny, polite smile as the kid’s mother apologized quickly before chasing her unruly son further down the sidewalk. Tucking her hands into the deep pockets of her coat, Eunjae buried her nose further into her scarf in an attempt to ward of the biting wind. Well that, and the gross smell of downtown Manhattan.

“Just fucking do it.” She muttered to herself, eyes still laser focused on the brown building. No one paid her any mind as they passed, too focused on wherever it was that they were going. Nodding to herself for encouragement, Eunjae flipped away the hair that blew into her face and moved her feet before she could change her mind.

The automatic glass doors whoosed open at her approach. As her booted feet stepped through the threshold, her shoulders almost instantly relaxed when the warm, central heated air hit her chilled skin. Eunjae pushed the sunglasses from her nose to perch in her silver hair, dark eyes scanning the fancy hotel lobby.

“Hello, miss.” The polite voice drew her attention away from where she was scrutinizing a tall man standing by the far elevator. Head turning, she met the gaze of a smiling hotel concierge. The golden name tag attached to the lapel on his black suit jacket read, ‘Steven.’ “Could I assist you with anything?”

“Uh,” Eunjae would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little overwhelmed by the stuffy atmosphere of the building. The few hotel patrons that glided through the marble lobby were dressed like little Bruce Wayne clones. She was half expecting the man stepping down the stairs to pull out a mask and scream, ‘I’m Batman!’

“I’m good, thanks. Just meeting someone.”

Eunjae waved her phone in the air as if it were some kind of golden ticket to solidify her presence there. The concierge just nodded with a smile and stepped off, leaving her to fend for herself. Sighing, Eunjae unlocked her phone to scroll through her most recent contacts. Listed right at the top was the mystery number that had called her the day previous.

It hadn’t been Jung Hoseok, much to Miles’ disappointment. Instead, it’d been one of Bangtan’s managers, Sejin. He’d introduced himself uncertainly in heavily accented English and asked if he had the right number. Eunjae had almost dropped the phone at his introduction and she’d nodded at his question like he could see her over the line.

“Yes, that’s me.”  Eunjae had spoken slowly as she sat up against the couch ramrock straight. Miles was jabbing a finger into the meat of her arm incessantly, mouthing for her to put it on speakerphone.

“Good, good.”  Sejin’s deep voice sounded almost relieved, if not a bit hesitant.  “I’m not sure how to go about this, so I’m just going to ask outright. Please excuse me if this sounds strange. But has anything...odd...happened to you within the past day?”

“Odd?”  Eunjae couldn’t help the nervous amusement that tickled her voice.  “Yeah, you could say that. So it’s really true, then? This is really happening? Is, uh...is...”

She trailed off, not sure how to ask the question straining on the edge of her tongue. Luckily, the man on the other line seemed to understand what she was trying to say. “Yes. Maybe it would be better if we could discuss this situation in person? How does tomorrow morning work for you?”

Fingers gliding across the screen of her cellphone back in the present, Eunjae sent off a quick text to Bangtan’s manager that she had arrived. Her hands were shaking with nerves in anticipation of the upcoming meeting.

I’m about to meet J-fucking-hope. Taking a deep breath, Eunjae tried to calm herself.  My soulmate. No biggie.

Digging the toes of her ankle boots into the rug of the hotel’s entrance, she shoved her clammy hands back into her coat pockets. Sure, she’d met Jung Hoseok face-to-face at the fanmeet almost two days ago, but that had been very brief. Now, she was about to walk into a room that would seal her fate. After today, she would no longer have the same life she used to. And because of that, Eunjae wasn’t quite sure how to feel.

Her feelings were a mixed bag. Part of her was excited--thrilled even--at the prospect of having one of the members of famed Bangtan Sonyeondan as her soulmate. Eunjae loved their music, she watched their v-lives when she could, and of course binged BTS crack videos on YouTube when she needed a laugh. Any ARMY would kill to be in her position.

But, Eunjae knew that she was going to have to uproot her entire life, and she wasn’t sure if she could give that up. It would be naive of her to think for even a second that Big Hit would allow one of their members to relocate to another country. There was nothing that Eunjae could do to change that, and a part of her hated it. She hated not having a choice on things that directly impacted her life.

But she didn’t--couldn’t--have any ill feelings towards J-hope. It wasn’t like it was his fault that fate drew them together. He was just as blameless in the situation as she was. So, taking a deep breath, Eunjae forced the thoughts from her mind before they could drown her.

“Morales Eunjae- ssi ?”

Blinking from where she’d been searing a hole into the rug with her eyes, Eunjae tilted her head back to look up at the man standing in front of her. Dressed in a soft looking beige sweater and black pants, Sejin stared down at her, eyes silently questioning if he’d gotten the correct person. The joked secret eighth member of Bangtan pushed the black frame of his rounded glasses further onto his nose with a smile.

“Yeah.” Eunjae’s voice came out in a squeak and she mentally berated herself for sounding so pathetic. Like always, once nerves started to take over, she lost control of both her mouth and her body. Her small fingers wiggled in a lame attempt at jazz hands, “that’s me.”

Lips twitching in amusement, Sejin bowed his head slightly before holding out a hand for her to shake. He took her bruised hand in his gently, eyes quickly scanning over the marks. “It’s nice to put a face to the name.”

“I’d say the same, but I already know who you are.” Eunjae joked, retracting her hand from his.

“I have a private meeting room reserved in the back.” Sejin tilted his head towards a hallway branching out from the side of the lobby’s main desk. “If you’ll follow me, we can talk there.”

Eunjae nodded before following the tall man across the lobby. She silently thanked Big Hit for being so thorough as to have Bangtan’s manager learn English. Eunjae didn’t even want to think about how awkward it would be to have a serious conversation with the man through Google Translate.

“So..,” Eunjae began in a half-joking tone as they walked down the empty hall. The pair passed one or two staff members who didn’t even spare them a second glance. “I’m not going to end up on the front cover of Dispatch for being caught here, am I?”

Sejin glanced down at her with a huff of amusement. “No. We’ve made sure that the staff here is very discrete.”

That was one way to say that they must have paid the hotel staff a large sum of money to keep their mouths shut.

“Ah.” Bruised hands clenched in the pockets of her coat, Eunjae asked the question that had been on her mind all day. “Is everyone gonna be there?”

Sejin shook his head as he turned left down another corridor. As they passed a few clouded glass doors, the man answered. “Bangtan has an interview in Chicago tonight, so the rest of the members and staff flew out last night. So it’ll just be the three of us.”

Internally screaming, Eunjae nodded her head calmly. While she felt a little bit of anxiety die down at the reassurance of not having to meet everyone at once, the thought of being in such an intimate setting with J-hope made her nervous. “Cool, cool.”

“There’s also some paperwork that we’re going to have to go over.”

Eunjae paused in responding as a staff member passed them by. Just how big was this hotel ? “Paperwork?”

Sejin glanced down at her as he finally came to a stop at a glass door at the end of the long hallway. Reaching out to pull down the handle, he nodded. “Yes. We’ll have to go over a nondisclosure agreement.”

That’s not at all daunting, Sejin, thanks.  

The breath caught in her throat as he opened the door, anxiety rushing back to greet her. God, she was so nervous.  When the door swung open to reveal an empty room, however, Eunjae blinked in confusion. As if sensing her thoughts, Sejin waved a hand to a door at the back of the room.

“Through there.”

She followed him around a long, rectangular table to the back room. Bottom lip caught between her teeth, she felt her hands clam up as the tall man opened the door silently. Eunjae didn’t have to search far before her eyes landed on the lone man in the room.

Jung Hoseok sat in a leather rolling chair pulled out from the small table in the center of the room. His long legs, dressed in black skinny jeans, were spread open as he tapped one booted foot against the carpet. The man’s black hair was pushed back from the golden skin of his forehead with a thick red, white and yellow Supreme headband. And he had on a fitted white shirt with another grey jean jacket, this one with an emblem of a tiger on the right side. The sharp jaw of his profile greeted her as he stared down at the phone held in his hands.

Wow, he’s beautiful. Eunjae’s lips parted on their own accord in stunned awe. The breath caught in her throat when, as if hearing her thoughts, he looked up.

Hoseok’s eyes scanned her from head to toe almost unconsciously as his heart-shaped lips stretched into a smile. He took her in, from her long silver hair, to her buttoned up peacoat and down her short, jean clad legs. The moment passed by before Eunjae could process it, and he pushed his chair back to stand, eyes locked on hers.

“Hi.” Hoseok grinned, tiny dimples revealing themselves under his high cheekbones. His long legs cleared the short distance from his chair to her quickly, and he extended a hand for her to shake. He’d barely even spoken, but the confident swagger he excluded spoke volumes. The palm of his hand had the same ugly dark bruises that matched hers.

“Hi.” Eunjae breathed out shyly, lips pulling up on their own accord. She reached out to grasp his extended hand.

The second their skin met, a zing of electricity spread from her fingertips to the top of her shoulder. It didn’t hurt, quite the opposite in fact. It was warm, inviting,  magnetic . The feeling burrowed under her skin like an old friend and the anxiety that had been pumping through her veins quieted at his touch.

Eyes widening in surprise, her eyes shot down to their conjoined hands. Neither of them had let go, both just staring down in awe. Lips parting, Eunjae muttered a quiet, “holy shit .”

She’d heard stories of how the touch of a soulmate affected the body, but never would she have imagined it to be like this. It felt like coming home. Like her soul had finally found a piece that she hadn’t even realized was missing.

And it was so completely, and utterly overwhelming .

“Wow.” Hoseok breathed. His eyes drifted back up to hers, jaw dropped in surprise.

The sound of a throat clearing broke through the stunned silence.

Hand dropping his like she’d been burnt, Eunjae looked over at a smirking Sejin. The man was obviously trying to hide his amusement at the situation as he entered the room. For a moment, Eunjae had forgotten that he’d even been there. Subtly flexing her tingling hand, she tried to push down the overwhelming urge to reach out and touch Hoseok again. His body called out for her and she felt like a drug addict itching for her next fix.

Sejin walked over to the four chaired table and pulled out a seat, letting the pair still standing in the doorway have their moment.

“Ah,” Hoseok spoke, drawing Eunjae’s attention back to him, head tilting back to stare up at him. He scrunched his face cutely and flashed a smile that would have ARMY’s everywhere swooning. “Nice to meet you.”

His cute, accented English would be the death of her. The end of his sentence lilted in a questioning tone and it took Eunjae a moment to grasp at what he was silently asking.

“You too.” She returned his smile with one of her own. “I’m Eunjae.”

“I’m your hope, your my hope, I’m J-hope.” He fluttered his fingers around his face cutely and Eunjae snorted a laugh at his dramatics. It was almost as if he was able to sense her nervousness and was trying to defuse the situation. He paused for a moment, eyes lifting to the ceiling as if searching for the correct English translation. “But call me Hobi.”

“Okay, Hobi.” The use of his nickname earned her another wide smile, his eyes twinkling down at her.

“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Sejin spoke, drawing both of their gazes. Eunjae had to lean around Hoseok’s tall frame to look the manager’s way. “Let’s get down to business.”

Sejin gestured to the two open chairs across the table from him. A dark brown folder had appeared out of seemingly nowhere and Eunjae felt slight apprehension grow at the thought of what it contained. She followed Hoseok over to the table, sending him a grateful smile when he cutely pulled her chair out for her.

The adjustable chair was pulled up to its’ max height. So when her feet failed to reach the floor, Hobi hid a smile behind his hand and muttered under his breath in Korean. After he took his own seat, Sejin folded his hands on the table and straightened his glasses.

“There’s some details that we need to work out before we have to catch a flight in about an hour. But first,” Sejin slipped the folder open and pulled out two pieces of paper stapled together. He slid both that and a ballpoint pen across the table to her. “This is just a standard nondisclosure agreement. By signing it, you’ll be agreeing to not post anything on social media or otherwise, regarding any details of this situation. We’re lucky that we’re able to get ahead of it now. It would be in the best interest for the safety of both of you if no one else catches wind of this.”

Eunjae raised an eyebrow as she scanned over the document. “Makes sense.”

And it did. The K-Pop world centered around promoting idols as single and within reach of their fans. Eunjae had always found it disgusting how groups were essentially pimped out to their fans as their management tried to make them seem as attainable as possible. Not only did this make it virtually impossible for idols to date, but it put both them and their group’s reputation in danger should they ever get caught in a romantic scandal.

If the media, let alone ARMY, caught even a sliver of a hint pointing to her bond with J-hope, they’d both be ripped to shreds. And Bangtan could kiss their reputation goodbye.

“Feel free to hold on to that if you want to go over it with a lawyer.” Sejin continued, waving a hand at the document she was reading over. “You could fax it over once you’re done with it. No pressure to sign right now.”

“It’s fine.” Eunjae shook her head and signed the bottom of the last page with a flourish. Hoseok was resting his chin in his hand, eyes bouncing back and forth between her and his manager as he tried to follow the conversation. “It’s all pretty straight forward.”

The central heating in the room was starting to make Eunjae sweat under her coat. Scrunching her nose in slight disgust, she reached up to tug the scarf off from around her neck. Her fingers worked the buttons of her pea coat off and she slipped out of the sleeves with a small sigh of relief.

A noise of surprise left Hoseok and he straightened in his chair to stare her down. Eyebrows raised in confusion at his sudden reaction, Eunjae tilted her head at him. “What?”

Hobi leaned over the side of his chair and gestured a ringed finger at her cheeks. Speaking in rapid fire Korean, his forehead pinched with concern. Blinking, Eunjae tried and failed to translate what he’d just said.

“I don’t..,” Eunjae’s brow creased and a beat of awkward silence overtook the room as she stared up at him in confusion. “What?”

“You..,” Flapping a hand at her, Hoseok attempted to communicate what he’d just said. Sejin just sat there, a smile of amusement hid behind a hand as he let the two of them work it out themselves. Finally, Hobi pointed back at her face with a murmured, “ouch.”

Eunjae’s mouth formed an O as she finally picked up what he was trying to say. She gently prodded her bruised cheeks with a finger. “Yeah. Ouch.”

“Actually,” Sejin interrupted with pursed lips. “That kind of brings up a good point.”

“What do you mean?” Eunjae asked, finally breaking eye contact with Hoseok.

“Those bruises are kind of a red flag. Especially for Hobi- ya . And from what I’ve read up on, they aren’t very easy to cover up.”

Hoseok looked over to his manager at the sound of his name. Nodding in agreement, Eunjae thought back to her own poor attempt at covering the marks on her face. “This is true.”

“Yes,” Sejin nodded as well. “So we should get those healed up as much as we can while we’re here.”

“What do you--oh.”

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. The only way to heal the bruises on their skin was with the touch of the other. Biting her bottom lip at the thought of snuggling of to J- fucking-hope , Eunjae couldn’t help the heat from rushing to her face.

It wasn’t that she hated skinship, in fact, she was a pretty avid cuddler. It was one of the reasons why Miles always refused to share a bed with her. However, Eunjae wasn’t in the habit of snuggling up next to a man ten minutes after meeting him. She only liked skinship with people that she knew well and was comfortable around.

Seeing the slow reddening of her cheeks, Hoseok raised an eyebrow and spoke to his manager in Korean, likely asking what was just said. At the reply from his manager, he hummed in acknowledgment and said something in response before turning to Eunjae with a warm smile. Hoseok lifted the arm closest to her invitingly, seeming not at all bothered at the thought of cuddling a virtual stranger. Perhaps he was able to sense her apprehension, or maybe she was just that easy to read, but his ability to disarm her so easily already was scary.

“Cuddle time!”

How he even knew those words in English was a mystery to Eunjae. Hoseok reached out an arm to hover over her shoulders, pausing to look down at her with questioning eyes. “Okay?”

Nodding, Eunjae forced down the feeling of her body screaming out for his touch. She appreciated the fact that he’d asked first. Even just having him that close pulled at her veins like a magnet. “Okay.”

At getting her permission, Hoseok slowly placed his arm around her shoulders, the material of his jean jacket tickling her skin. Eunjae had to bite her lip to stop the sigh from leaving her lips as the electric current spread through her body. The small, painful throb from the bruises on her cheeks stopped at his touch. The only thing she could feel was his warmth and she had to stop herself from leaning further into him, from burrowing herself in the feeling rushing through her veins.

When he scooted his chair closer to hers in order to find a more comfortable position, the scent of his cologne washed over her. He smelled woodsy; the warmth almost competing with his touch. Hoseok’s hand brushed casually against her arm and she chalked his comfort with skinship up to the cuddly maknae line. At the feeling of his body relaxing against hers, she wondered if he was feeling the effects of their bond just as much as she was.

That thought brought up a very important question.

Brows furrowing, Eunjae looked back to Sejin who had watched the whole thing transpire with a small smile on his face. “How’d you know it was me, by the way?”

“What do you mean?” Sejin asked and she could feel the gaze of Hoseok burning into the side of her face.

Eunjae wiggled a bruised hand in the air. “How’d you figure out who his soulmate was?”

“Ah.” Sejin leaned back into his chair. “We had a team pour over the CCTV recordings from the event. It took them a little while, but they were able to analyse and correspond the bruises on Hobi- ya ’s hands with the way he’d touched you. From then on, we backtracked and matched your entry ticket to get your contact information.”

Her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. Eunjae couldn’t help but feel both impressed and a little scared at how easily they’d found her. “Oh.”

Sejin glanced down at the watch on his wrist and frowned. “I hate to rush this, but we need to leave soon and there’s a few more things we need to sort out.”

This is it,  Eunjae thought reluctantly. She came into the building knowing that what transpired in that room would change her life. Either for better or worse, she wasn’t sure yet. Mentally bracing herself for the words that would ultimately bring her reality crashing down around her, she met Sejin’s gaze head on.

The man’s eyes turned apologetic, almost as if he could read the thoughts going through her head. “As you know, the boys are getting ready to go on tour soon.”

He waited for her nod before continuing. The arm thrown around her shoulders shifted as Hoseok’s leg pressed against hers. The electricity flowing under her skin was so palpable that she could almost taste it on her tongue.

“We could try and arrange a workaround if you wanted to stay here in New York.” That statement left Eunjae blinking in shock.

She’d figured that she wouldn’t even get a choice in the matter. But now she was being given the option of staying. Eunjae knew that if she did ultimately choose to stay in the city, the difficulty of arranging schedules to find time to prevent both of them from starving to death would be immense, bordering on impossible. But the fact that she was getting a choice was more than what she’d hoped for.

“Or,” Sejin continued, breaking her train of thought. “If you so choose, you could move out to Seoul by the end of the month. Or before the side effects of First Touch begin to show themselves. It would be all expenses paid, of course. The company would set you up in an apartment in the same building as the boys to make it easier to be discreet. And someone would be there to help you acclimate to South Korea, if need be. You attend university, correct?”

Feeling overwhelmed by the situation, all Eunjae could do was nod.

“We could help you transfer to a university within Seoul, if you wanted to continue your education there.”

“I don’t..uh,” Eunjae’s eyes widened. “I don’t know very much Korean.”

Nodding as if expecting that response, Sejin reassured her. “We could easily arrange for private lessons with a tutor to help teach you Korean.”

He stopped speaking then, giving her a moment to process everything he’d just said. Eunjae would be lying if she said that his offer didn’t sound at least a little appealing. But the thought of leaving behind the only people close to her to move to a new country and be essentially alone gave her pause.

“I know it’s a lot to take in.” His hands splayed on the table. “But you don’t have to answer right now. You have my phone number. Think it over--sleep on it, and you can give me your decision whenever you’re ready.”

Eunjae leaned back in her chair at his words, the cold button of Hoseok’s jacket sleeve digging into her neck. Glancing out the corner of her eyes, she saw that he’d already been looking at her. It seemed like Hoseok had given up on trying to translate the conversation, and had instead decided to just take her in instead. Heat once again rushing to her face from his gaze, Eunjae turned back to Sejin.

“Yeah. It’s..,” she waved a hand, searching for the words to encompass her feelings. “A lot.”

“Understandable.” Looking down at his watch again, Sejin grimaced. “I really hate that we have to rush this, but we need to get going if we’re going to catch our flight on time.”

He said something in Korean that had Hoseok straightening a little in his chair. The rapper responded too fast for her to try and decipher it. Shifting, his hand gave her shoulder a quick, seemingly reassuring squeeze before he retracted his arm. The sudden cold that took the place of his touch sent a shiver down Eunjae’s spine.

She only had time to blink once before Hoseok was holding his phone out towards her, lit up to show the new contact screen. His eyes scrunched into half-moons as he sent her a blinding smile. Gently wiggling the phone in his hands, he stated, “keep in touch!”

Eunjae tried to ignore the giddiness from the thought of being able to talk to him whenever she wanted. Sejin stood from his chair and she entered her information quickly and handed him back the device. Hoseok sent her a cute, cheeky smile before tapping a few times on the screen. The back pocket of her jeans vibrated at what she assumed to be a text message from him and she couldn’t help her smile.

“It was nice meeting you. I wish we could have stayed longer but, well, that’s part of the job.” Sejin tucked the brown folder under one arm, reaching out a hand to shake hers once again. “We’ll be in touch.”

The chair under her rolled backwards as she stood, Hoseok towering over her as he rose as well. “You too.”

“I would wait a few minutes before leaving after us,” Sejin warned, stepping around the table. “There might be paparazzi waiting outside.”

“Got it.” Eunjae slipped her arms back through her coat with a nod, winding the scarf back around her neck.

As the two made their way towards the door, Hoseok paused before he turned back. He reached out a hand to squeeze one of her shoulders, dark eyes scanned her form one last time. Cherub cheeks dimpling with a smile, he hummed. “Talk soon.”

The sound of the door closing behind them sent the final walls of her reality crashing down to the floor of the stuffy, heated room.

[100-yardstare]

I guess I know how George R* Mart*n feels because I can never finish any of my fics anymore!

I started writing this fic when SW EP 7 came out... in 2015. I never touched it again. It was about my OC Sarai and Steven. Since I’m probably never going to finish it I wanted to at least post it here for archival reasons. Feel free to read if you like!

Summary: The son of a deceased Resistance pilot, Steven Weatfield seeks refuge on the moon of Pantora with his living father in an attempt to escape the horrors of war and participation with the Resistance against the First Order. However, balance and fate seem to follow them when a Jedi, lost among the corridors of time for unknown circumstances, reminds him of his mission, and his mothers sacrifice.

Word Count: 2,962

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away…

STAR WARS

War never ends. It has been twenty-seven years since the rebellion’s triumphant victory over the Death Star, and likewise, the end of Darth Sidious and Darth Vader. However, the New Republic’s struggles are not yet over. The First Order has risen, and again, is spreading disorder upon the galaxy, forcing General Leia to build up a Resistance to push back further destruction. Casualties are always a factor, and even for the Resistance, the death toll and injured have recently reached peaks that were unforeseen. The sudden and dramatic losses have frightened large numbers of surviving resistance soldiers.

Steven Wheatfield, former trainee of the Resistance, has since resigned by desire of his surviving father. They are attempting to stay out of the conflict at all costs, currently residing in a small rural settlement on the moon of Pantora…

. . . . . . .

 “In a world covered by endless water… the people of the Republic were driven to create artificial solders for war. This war was spreading through quickly— so quickly, it was soon leaving no portion of the galaxy untouched by its strife! But these two forces were not equal by all means. Yes, droid and clone were similar as fierce soldiers, each having their own distinct advantages, and likewise Sith leaders Count Dooku, and other such foes provided their means within the Separatists army. But! Leading the Republic’s armies, among the thousands of brilliant clone soldiers, was the Jedi!”

A series of sarcastic beeps came from a R6 unit after the long introduction, whose small chirps seemed to bounce off the snowy field and into the tall toupee colored grasses surrounding. A couple of crunchy footsteps would cease at that moment, as Steven stopped walking, and telling his story for that matter.

“What are you talking about, Wheatles?!” Steven cried, who so abruptly turned around at the moment of his R6 units bickering. “Of course the Jedi were important! Now would you please let me continue my story? The Jedi lead the Republic’s armies; they carried the torch that spread throughout the galaxy, and pushed back the dark, and those who came their way.”

The droid spat out another set of beeps, carrying with it the most unpleasant of sounds, which in return caused Steven’s face to blush pink.

“Y-You moof-milker!” Steven yelled. “The history of the Clone Wars is not useless! In fact, it just goes to show you why the Republic failed in the first place. From the corruption in the senate all the way to the very battles themselves that took place—they all were important!”  

Steven paused for a moment to gather himself, soon his flush of color leaving his face. “I’ll bet if Jedi were still around…” His face relaxed, a little too much even, as his eyebrows rose up in a loathsome furrow. With this, his voice fell in depth, sending even more of his hot breath into the icy Pantoran air.

“If the Jedi were here, like they were then, maybe this war would already be over. Maybe… maybe Mum would be…”

                A sudden gust pushed through the field, sending a dust of snow off the ground and into the air like powder. After the gust settled, a soft wave of snow began to fall—so soft that you barely noticed the moment it fell upon your lashes.  

               “The Jedi fought alongside the clone army for three years… And they would have done it too. They would have won. But… they’re gone now.” Steven paused, only shortly to express a gentle sigh. “You don’t think… those kinds of things are myths, do you?”

The R6 unit softly spoke up with a simple, long beep, which was by far significantly calmer than any of its other comments were beforehand. The droid’s head centered itself as his back legs lowered a tad.  This caused Steven to stare down at his droid companion, soon his sorrowful look diminishing from the droid’s obvious apology.

               “Thank you, Wheatles,” Steven remarked. He sighed deeply before saying, “come on. We better get you home before it starts snowing any harder. I know how much you hate walking through the stuff.”

               Steven turned around to start walking his droid along the path they had been traveling down for some time. In the far distance a small village and a distribution of independent properties could be seen. From their chimneys, smoke from fires within all of the homes scattered about the landmass reached high into the skies like fingers stretching from a cloudy palm. This scenery, although lovely in its own way, still was strange to Steven. It wasn’t particularly the cold landscape, or the smallness of it all, but more rather how quiet it was. Steven was used to busy bustling of resistance soldiers, the sound of engines starting from all varieties of ships, and sometimes even the occasional laser shooting practice. Steven was used to getting his hands dirty in engine oil and grime, and the strain in his arms from piloting ships. To say the least, it was like he was out of his element. It wasn’t the same.

               Steven first anticipated turning around and staying out in the field longer. That or he figured he’d might as well go off the trail and see what he could find out in the tall grasses of Pantora. Who knows? Maybe he would find some parts lying around or something interesting at least. He’d rather spend his time out in the cold then going back. Sitting around, doing nothing? No, that wasn’t his thing. Especially since sitting around or doing even simple chores required him to listen to his father mumble under his breath all the time; he made the sheer air in the room feel heavy. There wasn’t a day that went by that wasn’t quite otherwise.

               Steven suddenly grumbled to himself, which wasn’t like him. He liked keeping a positive attitude, but this—this feeling—was getting redundant.

               “I could just take my ship and fly off somewhere, ya know, Wheatles?” Steven spoke aloud. “We could fly right out of here and somewhere out there. Ya, that would be brilliant, wouldn’t it? But he says otherwise.”

               Wheatles gave off a sigh sound in response. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get Steven to cheer up some. Agreeing with Steven always seemed to help.

               “Ya! That’s right! Can you imagine it? Steven and his loyal droid, Sir Wheatles, off into the galaxy! We need a team name though. Wheatles, maybe you should write this down—”

               Before Steven could continue, his eye caught a glimpse of something in the sky at the opposite end of the field from where the village was. At first he figured it was a mere speck of floating black dust that just looked like something, but it was indeed something this time.

               Steven focused more sternly on the object in the sky now, realizing that it was ablaze as it fell through the planets atmosphere. As it drew closer to the ground, he was beginning to realize it was a ship. He didn’t react until the ship plummeted into the ground some two-miles away. After its obvious crash, was when he had a delayed response.

               “Hell!” Steven yelled. “Did you see that? Did you see the ship fall from the bloody sky?!”

               His droid was quiet as Steven began fanning his face uncontrollably. This was unbelievable. Well—it was believable in the sense that it happened all the time, but not here. Not for them.

               “We gotta go check it out!” was Steven’s next bright idea. His droid beeped a few times, indicating its own distress, but this didn’t seem to give Steven any second thoughts. “Who knows what that was? It could be a resistance ship for all we know! Somebody needs our help!”

               Steven started running. He started running for so far and so long that Wheatles was a good few paces behind him by the time they crawled over the little hill that lead them to the crash site.

               The landscape from one side of the hill, and to the other, was quite drastic. A decent sized indention had been marked in the ground on the other side from impact. The trail that the fallen ship had left from hitting the ground, and then having skated across the dried tan grasses, was black and covered in soot. Some of the stalks of grass further to the side that had not been completely crushed had some traces of embers, whose glow, thankfully, did not increase in size for the time being.

               To say the least, Steven was ecstatic. But he was also cautious. The ship didn’t look resistance, at least a type that he was used to seeing. It seemed to have an old design, from what parts he could distinguish what was left of it. The ship overall was so jumbled that it was hard to tell. The metal was obviously still hot on the outside, which caused a steam to escape from its structure and into the cold air.

               “Should we check it out?” Steven asked his droid, who had just a second earlier made it beside him to join him in his stare at the crashed space ship.

               Steven seemed to answer himself rather quickly. “Yeah, let’s check it out!” he exclaimed excitedly, and rushed down the little hill and up towards the ship. He stopped only when he was close enough to feel the warmth from the crash site. With narrowed eyes he tried to look through the rising dust and soot through his glasses, scanning the area before him as much and as diligently as he could to make sure there was nobody about.

               But even with his careful eye, he could see nothing.

               “Whoa, Wheatles, you don’t suppose… anyone survived this?” Steven asked out loud. From the outward diagnostics of the ship, it seemed someone could have survived. It was wrecked, sure, but it wasn’t so wrecked that anyone within couldn’t have found a way to take cover to land. But still, he couldn’t be too careful.

               R6 beeped a few times, which caused Steven’s attention to fall back onto his droid.

               “Tell Dad? Are you joking?” Steven scoffed. “The first sign of any sort of ship crashing on Pantora, especially around him, is just asking for us to be relocated. We can’t tell him.”

               The metal creaked then, causing what sounded like movement from the inside of the ship. Steven’s head seemed to snap back upward once the sound hit his ears, realizing then from his prior suspicions that someone must be in there. He wasn’t sure what to do, in all honesty. Someone’s life was very much on the line potentially, and he felt the need to be there for them once they stepped out of that ship. But another thought crossed his mind: what if they weren’t friendly? What if this ship was First Order, and he didn’t even realize it?

               The odds seemed slim that it was First Order, based on the ships design, but the thought came to him regardless. He hunkered down, only a bit, but soon realized that doing so wasn’t going to stop him from being spotted. Instead, he kept his stance firm, waited, and listened.

               Creaks and paces were heard for a few seconds longer until the door was triggered to open. At first, nothing walked out of the crumpled ship. Inside there was only darkness, which indicated that the vessel had lost power just as it had crashed. A few sparks from deep inside the ship could be seen, but sill, he waited…

               Staring wide-eyed by then, Steven watched as a figure walked limply out of the doorway. As it came into the Pantoran light, he saw it was a togruta female. Instantly, he became relieved of a First Order threat, but from this a new question arose. Her outfit was strange, and almost foreign to him. It wasn’t anything togruta typically wore. Instead, it was a grey and white tunic. The first thing that slid into his train of thought then, was…

               “No, it couldn’t be,” Steven muttered to himself. He had read many of Republic documents of the Jedi Knights. Their attire seemed to match what this woman was wearing, but… it seemed too coincidental. Seemingly, his thoughts of fairytales diminished once he saw her fall to her knees, and collapse backwards onto the icy grasses.

               R6 spilled out a series of worried beeps the second she hit the ground. Steven, on the other hand, rushed up towards her as quickly as his legs could take him. Once he was next to her, he kneeled down by her side, and lifted her head into his lap. He immediately checked for any signs that she wasn’t breathing, her pulse, and her overall state. But, she was fine.

��              Steven sighed again once he noticed she was still alive. “Thank God. She’s all right. Wheatles, no need to worry. I’m sure she’s just shaken from the crash. Although I’d suggest we try and get her somewhere to rest.”

               R6 responded positively to Steven’s suggestions, and came by Steven once again to further inspect the togruta woman. The both of them didn’t really know what to do at that moment. It had been a long while since they had come into contact with any other races besides the Pantoran’s and the occasional human that passed by in order to get to the Pantoran Capital. Should they even ask questions? Should they still treat her as if she was a threat?

               Out of habit from his resistance training, Steven looked over the woman further. Her purple skin tone seemed to clash with the idea of all, or at least a vast majority, of togruta being of rustic, orange-like tones. Her head tails and montrals were also relatively grown in, indicating she couldn’t have been older than in her mid-twenties. Alike all other togruta, or those who have at least proven themselves as warriors to their people, she bore a Akul Tooth headdress, made of a black band with the golden, triangular shaped teeth attached to it. Her robe itself, on the other hand, seemed to bring more surprises. Steven looked down at her beltline, realizing that attached, was…

               “A lightsaber?” Steven’s blue eyes seemed to lighten up with a sparkle. “No, it couldn’t be…��

               Steven looked back at the woman’s face, noticing her eyes were still closed, and then back down at the lightsaber. If it was actually a lightsaber, he wasn’t 100% sure, but it looked like one, and certainly mimicked every detail he had ever read about them in the Jedi lore and Republic history text he had indulged in so much growing up.

               Almost like a child, his hands reached down towards the mysterious weapon, his fingers only delicately touching the carved metal of gold and silver before he was suddenly struck across the cheek.

               Instant alert spilled from R6, as the both of them realized she had awoken. The togruta pushed Steven violently away from her, and then came to a stand, one of her hands clutching the weapon at her beltline tightly as she glared at both of them.

               “Who are you!?” she yelled.

               “Look, we mean you no harm! I was just—” Steven attempted to explain, sending his arms in the air as if to say he was unarmed, and very much of no danger.

               “I said, who are you!?” the girl fussed again. The situation was growing tenser by the minute, and so Steven realized attempting to prove his innocence wasn’t nearly as important as saying who he was.

               “I’m Steven Wheatfield! This is my R6 until, Wheatles! We’re just settlers on Pantora…”

               “Pantora?” The girl’s voice rose significantly in her question. It was as if she was baffled she was even there. “The Empire then… are they in this area?”

               “Empire?”

               “Don’t play dumb with me, Steven. The Empire has taken control of all previous Republic systems. Tell me where the Empire establishments are located on this planet!”

               “I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about because the Empire hasn’t existed for… well over two decades.”

               The togruta girl’s dark eyes widened, as if replacing a physical gasp. Again, she was baffled, in a state of disbelief and confusion. Her legs looked like they wanted to stumble, but her strong stance caught her.

               “The Empire hasn’t existed in over two decades?” she repeated, as if saying it out loud would help her bring it to reality. “Then what of the Inquisitors? The Stormtrooper armies? Darth Vader? The purge?”

               “What are you talking about?” Steven’s panicked emotions were escaping him now, and he was starting to become more empathetic to the stranger in front of him. “What’s an inquisitor? The Stormtroopers… we’ll they aren’t exactly Empire anymore. And Darth Vader is…” he paused, his calmed worried eyes settling into her distraught gaze. “Darth Vader is dead.”

               “What?” Her words fell out of her, softly, as if everything she knew was suddenly gone. By looking at her, everything was gone. She seemed scared, isolated, and without a clue as to what to do.

               Steven remained on the ground, realizing the situation had taken a complex turn. He eyed her first, head to toe, taking in her features as if it was yet again the first time he had seen her before.

               “…Who are you?” Steven asked softly.

               The girl looked to the ground, and then to her hands. Her eyes would shut tightly for a split second, as if her mind had taken her elsewhere; searching, wondering…

               “My name is Sarai Daan. I am a Jedi.”

[stevenuniversallyreviews]

Episode 43: Maximum Capacity

“You know how I feel about shapeshifting.”

Steven Universe begins in the middle of the story, when Steven first reveals signs of his latent magical powers. This is a terrific jumping-off point, but it’s always been clear that the saga of the Crystal Gems predates him by many, many years. Rose is more often than not used as shorthand for the past, the way things had always been Before Steven (his birth being the second time she upended a longstanding status quo).

But we often ignore a critical period of time in the show’s history: the lost years between Rose’s death and Gem Glow. Surely there were some growing pains, considering the Gems are still uncertain about showing Steven the ropes, but implications and theories are all we get until Maximum Capacity.

History inundates every aspect of this episode. Obviously it consumes the plot and provides ample fuel for drama, but even its humor is derived from digs at pop culture history (Li'l Butler as a representation of 80’s sitcoms) and the viewer's own history with the show (the bait-and-switch reveal of Amethyst-as-helper depends on our knowledge of Pearl’s behavior). Few episodes commit so single-mindedly to one theme without a character up and telling us the lesson. Steven comes close in his big speech about letting things go, but it’s just ambiguous enough to use its obvious double meaning to its advantage.

There’s a huge layer of uncertainty to this episode that I just love. How much does Steven understand about what’s going on? There was a point in the show where the subtext of his speech about letting things go would’ve been lost on him, but he’s wised up enough to potentially get that he’s also talking about Greg and Amethyst’s baggage about Rose. But has he? We just don’t know!

The same can be said for the nature of Greg and Amethyst’s relationship. While I’m personally all for the interpretation that they clung together as kindred spirits after Rose’s death, and am fully against the interpretation that their history is romantic (Greg has shown no interest in anyone after Rose, he treated Amethyst like a child sister before Rose died, and her rant is more about losing a parental figure than anything romantic), I can’t ignore that there’s plenty of reasons for other fans to infer that they had a fling. Amethyst’s crack about seeing Greg’s junk aside, the knowledge that she’s roleplayed Rose in the past when the two of them hung out alone together is loaded as hell.

There’s no right answer to these things, and that’s perfect, because history is a fickle thing, especially to a kid like Steven.

Not to harp on Horror Club again, but Maximum Capacity is a sterling example of how to include Steven in an episode that’s not really about him. He’s focused on, for sure, but it’s all in service of our true leads, Greg and Amethyst. His self-enforced grounding is funny, but it also highlights a sense of responsibility that’s lost on two adults drowning in memories. His sorrow about Greg missing the fireworks may make us feel for him, but it also highlights how far his father has fallen. Steven gets to be his own character doing his own things, but he never distracts us from Greg and Amethyst’s story. And what a story it is!

While they’ve had few interactions to this point, Amethyst is notably more cordial with Greg than the other Gems—recall her casual greeting to him in Onion Trade and her hanging with him and Steven in House Guest. Amethyst is also more involved with human culture than her partners. That these two elements of her character are linked is a brilliant touch: of course Greg would introduce her to cheesy amazing sitcoms like Li’l Butler.

It only becomes clear that their bingeing (a word that may be ugly but at least is clearer than “binging”) originated with Rose’s death when Pearl Pearlsplains the situation, but something’s immediately off with Greg when Steven realizes he hasn’t even slept. Greg has always prioritized being with his son, even to his detriment in the dreadful House Guest, and seeing him ignore Steven Time is troubling.

Thanks to our pinpoint focus on Steven's reaction to Rose’s absence for most of the season, we've barely touched on how it affected the rest of her family. Pearl gets vocally emotional about her at times, and Garnet treats her memory with the utmost respect, but Amethyst is consistently quiet on the issue (in no small part due to her condition in An Indirect Kiss). Strangely enough, Greg is similarly reticent about Rose; while his debut in Laser Light Cannon showed him reminiscing, playing the music she loved, and tearing up over her image, he's been a closed book ever since.

In that way, it's fitting that these two get the first round of Adults Miss Rose Too before Pearl steps into the ring. Maximum Capacity shows that their grief is just below the surface, ready to drag them not only into deep sadness but unhealthy coping mechanisms. Sure, there are more harmful ways to mourn than watching a show nonstop, but we gradually see it draw out the worst in our two heroes. 

The occasional portrayal of Greg as lazy and absentminded has always been, well, lazy and absentminded: he’s the sole financial provider for his son unless the Gems have jobs we don’t know about, and he seems to run his own one-man business well, so the idea that he’s just a big galoot has never gelled with me. His core competence and responsibility means it hits like a truck to see him so sucked into the siren song of Li’l Butler that he forgets to spend New Year’s Eve with his son. I love how instantly he regrets missing the fireworks: as a good father, he recognizes the mistake and feels awful about it without anyone telling him to, and takes steps to fix it right away.

But then it’s Amethyst’s turn, and after an episode-long showcase of her most obvious flaw (laziness that outstrips Greg’s by a mile) she reveals the pinnacle of her self-centeredness. She’s apathetic to Steven’s feelings, then Greg’s feelings, and acts as if Greg is source of all her problems while indirectly blaming Steven’s existence for Rose not being there for her. I almost hate to bring up her middle child syndrome again so soon after On the Run, but it certainly manifests in her anger over her feelings and needs not getting enough attention.

Thanks to terrific writing, her obvious remorse, and Michaela Dietz’s outstanding delivery, Amethyst doesn’t become the monster that my descriptions of her actions might imply. But she deals with negativity by internalizing and exploding; she literally lets the garbage in her life pile up until there’s no more room. It’s far healthier to deal with baggage instead of pushing it aside, as Steven so helpfully points out, and therein lies my only issue with Maximum Capacity.

In an episode about the importance of coping with the past, we don’t actually get any lessons on the how. We learn what not to do, but rather than actually face his history head-on, Greg returns to find that all of his problems have been sorted out by someone else off-screen, no hardship required! Moreover, Amethyst is still holding on to all of his baggage when the episode ends, with the exception of a few items (including the frame that frames this amazing shot):

I’m all about the show’s ability to subvert a lesson, but it doesn’t seem intentional here, especially with a lesson this good. Still, Maximum Capacity is brilliant enough that I mostly give it a pass. Not every aspect of grief can be dealt with in eleven minutes, and besides, we have Mr. Greg to take care of the processing.

Future Vision!

This is our first look at Garnet and Pearl’s Dad Shirt Forms, which we’ll see again in...wait, never? What’s wrong with this show!?

Amethyst will turn into Rose once again in the movie, this time with an okay from Greg (and a song!).

If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have inconsistencies…

Not sure how we managed to get so many callbacks to Laser Light Cannon in one episode, including the broken picture that first prompted “If every pork chop were perfect, we wouldn’t have hot dogs,” without a single reference to this alleged catchphrase. I’ve said before how silly it is that Greg never says this outside of Light Cannon, but it’s particularly silly here.

I’ve never been to this…how do you say…school?

This one’s a little more poignant than usual, but I guess I’ll take it, jeez Hilary.

We’re the one, we’re the ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR!

Even if it doesn’t stick the landing, Maximum Capacity somehow tells a great story about grief and disappointment without being a downer. I’ve got no beef with downers, mind you, but Li’l Butler theme or no Li’l Butler theme, that’s a hell of a feat.

Top Ten

Steven and the Stevens

Mirror Gem

Lion 3: Straight to Video

Alone Together

Coach Steven

Giant Woman

Winter Forecast

On the Run

Warp Tour

Maximum Capacity

Love ‘em

Laser Light Cannon

Bubble Buddies

Tiger Millionaire

Lion 2: The Movie

Rose’s Room

An Indirect Kiss

Ocean Gem

Space Race

Garnet’s Universe

The Test

Future Vision

Like ‘em

Gem Glow

Frybo

Arcade Mania

So Many Birthdays

Lars and the Cool Kids

Onion Trade

Steven the Sword Fighter

Beach Party

Monster Buddies

Keep Beach City Weird

Watermelon Steven

Enh

Cheeseburger Backpack

Together Breakfast

Cat Fingers

Serious Steven

Steven’s Lion

Joking Victim

Secret Team

No Thanks!

     4. Horror Club      3. Fusion Cuisine      2. House Guest      1. Island Adventure