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animehouse-moe · 11 months

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Jujutsu Kaisen Season 2 Episode 2: Hidden Inventory 2

Wow, lot of twos in today's title. Once more I really feel on the fence about sharing my gripes with JJK, but at the same time I almost just want to feel heard in my disappointment and sadness that we're seeing what we are. I'll probably say it every time, but this doesn't mean that I hate every second and frame of these episodes, there's good stuff within too, it's just that the overwhelming majority feels wrong. So I guess it's time to humor me if you will as I recant my grievances with today's JJK episode.

You know, I really thought it was going to be a one-off. That we just got season one's OST in the first episode for some random reason. Does not seem to be the case. The standout, and "JJK" sounding tracks are all from the first season in this episode as well. What amounts to background noise that is entirely forgettable is the new soundtrack, aside from the choice of classical music over a Toji scene, and the well placed choir later in the episode. This is basically to say, any "JJK Flair" you might catch from this episode is old news, all of the new music moves towards a generalized and far more often than not flat delivery that rips yet another section of this anime's heart out.

And you know, on the topic of simple things that feel robbed of their character? The eye catch. I get it, they want something more "uppity" to match the perceived vibe of Geto and Gojo. But the concept of "the strongest", and the person that's always in their shadow, is not at all grasped through a simple xylophone-esque tune couple with whatever fluttery animation this is.

Kind of crazy that we haven't made it to the episode itself yet, so let's fix that. Broad strokes first, the composition. What was up with episode 1? It's so obviously better here in 85% of the scenes, and for what reason? I guess in general, the lighting and shading overall is more plain, but it's not like there was a mountain of things to draw in the first episode anyways. That said, there's still very glaring and weird issues with composition through the episode, and I don't understand why. At the very least, they show with today's episode that they can properly composite scenes, but just choose not to with a good few (and oddly enough it's that nearly all of these scenes are just too dark).

For example, these two scenes take place in the same setting/area, but the exposure and brightness are totally different? Gets a pass on the shading on Geto because I couldn't find a good scene that showed Geto properly while including the shading, but just know that it does remain.

And this is far from the only example of the oddities in regards to composition. The moment a scene is "intense" or combat erupts, they completely crush the lighting and composition for reasons that I simply can't understand. Just take a look at this. I really don't get it. These two characters are facing each other in the scene, so how one is far brighter than the other I have no idea.

I was tempted to provide a third example, but Tumblr does sadly have an image limit, so I'll be moving on. Though really it's backwards to start my complaints from the top since the broad concept of composition has been covered now. So we go to Geto. What is Mappa's obsession with unnecessary character acting? Not only is this instance excessive like usual, it goes against the actual concept of Geto's character? Not that he can't enjoy tea, but he very clearly is meant to be depicted as a high school kid that's glued to his phone. He's meant to be shown as young and closer to Gojo, but instead we get a scene that frames him as far older? Gosso seems to really have it out for Geto through these two episodes.

And of course, the character acting is another discussion entirely. They age Geto painfully with how they have him behave compared to the manga. Just baffling decisions that seem entirely needless.

Also please Mappa I'm begging you, why are you treating Toji like this??? Like, I'm sorry, who is this man? It's the kind of pointless thing that gets me pointlessly worked up because there's just such little resemblance to what makes Toji, Toji. They've erased the heart of the soundtrack, they've erased the art style that fans have loved, and now they've moved onto erasing the hearts of the characters and their expressions.

Expression, let's go there. I'm a fan of how goofy the manga can get with Gojo (and Geto) at times, but I feel like throughout the episode they go from narrow, to very comfortably missing the mark on its humor, and in doing so end up butchering more than a few scenes.

This example is of the more mild misses, but it's pretty easy to see how Gege's humor is completely missing from the anime's version.

Anyways, back to my poor child Geto, being abused by Mappa. I swear they hate him for some reason, because what is this? Geto feels that two of his curses have been exorcised and tells Gojo they need to go get Riko, but compared to the manga? There's just so much. How Geto tells Gojo about getting Riko before he starts moving in the anime. He doesn't hang off Gojo but rather walks away briskly, and the look in his eyes is just entirely different. I might forgive them for not showing how it is that Geto realizes his curses have been exorcised, but I won't forgive them for changing the very basis of his character. That sinister feel, the cunning that emanates from his sharp gaze, the look that never falters. Geto's in the zone in this moment, and you can tell that from the rip with his narrow eyes and his interactions that are catching up to his thoughts. All of that is missing in the anime though, and it's deeply disappointing.

You know, if I keep this up I'll be here all day. Question! Which anime is this from!? If you answered JJK... you'd be right, sadly. The art style is just so painfully generic to what Mappa is doing these days that it hurts my soul to see.

Alright, the next big offence. I'm pretty sure most knew it was coming, but it hit painfully hard today. That is, the combat. There was never going to be anyone that would match Park's combat with JJK, and I wholly accept that as fact. What I don't accept is how Gosso sees how focused on Choreography JJK is, and decides, "You know what? I'm not interested in that, let's do all close ups and isolation for the combat". And it pisses me off, it's good work. It's well animated, and it's entirely wasted as a mockery of what JJK is.

Just look at the difference to the manga. Not even that, look at the difference in combat style. Geto uses an open hand in the manga, but it turns into a closed fist in the anime? I really feel for anime onlies that are getting the anime's version of JJK.

Back to Gojo. I can't believe they attempted to pull a scene from an anime original gag clip from S1 into S2, and just made a lesser version of it.

The actual definition of "Unspoken Rizz vs Sexual Harassment". If it also wasn't obvious, the manga version of the panel doesn't remotely compare.

And you know what? It's a good segue to my next issue: it's too damn happy. The episode, and Hidden Inventory as a whole so far, has been too uppity and the added/changed pieces are what makes it worse. For whatever reason, Gosso has taken the idea of goofy Gojo and Geto as the notion that everyone is goofy, and it's a massive misconception, that leads to unnecessary scenes like this one that use chibi characters instead of regular ones to crank the humor up to 11 and have it linger for far more than the manga does.

Alright, next person, Kuroi. I'm not surprised, I'm really not, I swear I'm not. But God, are eyes and facial expressions just something that the staff don't care about this season? How is this instance of Kuroi meant to compare to and display what the manga Kuroi is? The two aren't even close. And for what reason. It's literally a pair of eyes that someone looked at, and decided needed to be all the way open in blind rage, rather than the reserved yet poised feeling they gave off in the manga.

To be honest, there's still a bit of episode left with Gojo's fight against Bombastic Bagman, but I just don't have the energy or desire to complain in detail. It's alright? It's a very anime-only depiction of it that changes things, and needlessly so at that, but it's also not terribly offensive. It took this second season only two episodes for me to become apathetic towards the issues we're faced with, and that just feels incredibly depressing. I love JJK a great deal, and within 2 of the 23 episodes this season, I've grown tired of my own complaints.

#jujutsu kaisen #呪術廻戦 #jjk #sorcery fight #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #anime review #anime and manga #anime

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ostensiblynone · 9 months

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Although [Mike] Connolly attended gay parties as a recreational pursuit, most gay men considered him a business contact rather than friend.

"Mike knew everybody, but I don't think anyone who knew him well liked him," [Lawrence J.] Quirk recalled. "He was a piece on the Hollywood chessboard, and you had to deal with him. He was always pawing everybody; he was curiosity-obsessed. The smart boys would give in to him and then all concerned got over it. I was always hearing guys at parties joking about their Mike Connolly experiences." … But there was an unspoken belief in Connolly's words and actions that a committed relationship should both assume and forgive extracurricular flings. "Mike was compulsively promiscuous; he wanted to know what every man had in his pants," said Larry Quirk. "He worshipped masculinity and went after the ones whose sexuality you weren't sure of. Uniforms were a turn-on to him." According to Quirk, Connolly would put the make on the most prominent young actors, including Robert Francis, Guy Madison, Anthony Perkins, Nick Adams, and James Dean. Quirk said there was rampant gossip at gay parties regarding not only Connolly's escapades with these actors but also a noteworthy pornography collection he would display to those he favored. Two men on the gay party circuit who knew Connolly well were Jerry Asher, a fan magazine writer and former MGM publicist, and the director Edmund Goulding. "Jerry and Eddie were the centers of their own gay circles," said Quirk. "Their circles were less uppity than George Cukor's. Mike was often at their parties. Jerry had the biggest mouth in town; he gossiped like crazy. Eddie was quite the gossip himself. Most of my gossip on Mike came from those two. Mike and Jerry socialized, but warily. There was tension between them; Jerry said Mike was a hypocrite who sacrificed everything to please the Establishment while sneaking around on the side. Once Mike wanted to get rid of a young hanger-on, so he tied a pink ribbon around the kid and sent him over to Jerry's, whose birthday party was in progress. Jerry pushed the young guy away from his door, saying, 'I don't need your type around here.' Then Jerry phoned Mike and said, 'I don't need your condescension!' Mike replied, 'You're hardly God's gift to men, Jerry; you're going to have to pay for it!'"

—Mike Connolly and the manly art of Hollywood gossip by Val Holley, published 2003

#mike connolly #1950s

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deniigi · 3 years

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Blame @petrichordiam for this.

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Title: centerstage

Summary: An academic goes to a conference and is jazzed to see a jedi speak there. He unknowingly sits next to this jedi’s Support Squad.

The jedi Support Squad is like 85% clones, and 15% Jedi Generals.

No one mentions that the jedi speaking has never done this before and is petrified out of his blessed little mind.

*Anakin is like 19-20ish here.

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Sion Jissard has spent the last ten years of his life in the dredges of archives, digging through documents and testing fibers found between the flimsy, papery pages of old texts—scrounging for clues to recreate the conditions of the great conference halls and small, tucked away offices in which some of the most powerful people in the galaxy once gathered to whisper and shout over the fate of whole planets.

He has a hypothesis that the conditions in those rooms affected the decisions made in them. His hypothesis is strong enough that it has endured several rounds of peer-review and escaped those vulture-like clutches mostly unscathed in published form—both in journal and, his chest swells to recall, in book formats.

His book has sold several hundred copies and been cited in a plethora of upcoming article submissions.

The last eight years of tension in his marriage has eased in light of this. The salary from the professorship obtained in light of the book certainly hasn’t hurt it either.

His two doctorates are set on the wall of his office and when he receives word that a conference on ‘Intergalactic Unionism and Peace Negotiation’ is to be held in two months time, he opens up the speakers list and raises his head to gaze upon those two solid frames.

There will be jedi speakers at the conference. Several, actually. The whole thing is to be held on Coruscant, in the small visitors’ wing of the Jedi temple itself.

Sion Jissard pinches the fabric of his suit and then lightly slaps at his cheek to make sure that he is not dreaming.

He has only recently begun studying the jedi order’s material world and the role that world plays in their intergalactic peace-making practices. Prior to this, he considered the subject too on-the-nose. Jedi studies are rampant. Everyone wants a piece of that pie—the allure of it being that the jedi themselves, scholars in their own rights, refuse to partake in examinations of their culture.

They are notoriously obstinate. Their grandmasters refuse to let outsiders into their archives. Their masters shut down any and all attempts to obtain interviews or transcripts or documents with empty expressions or gentle, pitying smiles. Their knights blink with confusion at personal and personal-adjacent questions, and the little ones, the apprentices, are shielded behind all of these people as though the elbow-padded questioners are threatening their precious little lives.

In short, the jedi are happy to listen but loathe to teach. If you are not one of their soldiers or one of their fellows, they will lie to your face and tell you that it is their religion to do so.

And yet here they are, offering up a scholar’s wetdream and even allowing a handful of their own to present on their areas of expertise.

Sion Jissard will pass up this opportunity only upon pain of death.

He applies for the conference as a participant, not a speaker, and is delighted to receive confirmation of his place within mere minutes.

He puts the date on his calendar and starts looking into transit to Coruscant for the event in two months time.

Sion arrives on Coruscant, at the foot of the Jedi Temple itself, and stares up at it for so long that he begins to feel sick to the gills.

He fumbles for his confirmation at the little table set up in the interior courtyard behind a side-entrance door. He is distracted by the fact that the woman he is standing in front of is a Jedi. She is helped by two small children and holds a baby who is dead-set on unraveling the knots that decorate her thick waist band. Even the baby is dressed in double-collared cream-colored robes.

Sion has so many questions he wants to ask.

The jedi asks him for his name. She has a collection of name badges before her, but none of them are his. He gives his name and the master turns to the little girl sat at her right elbow with a brush in hand and instructs her to write it out.

The jedi child—not an apprentice, her robes are cream still, there are no additional earth-colors layered on top of it—writes Sion’s name in beautiful script on a little card and hands the card to the master, who puts it in a holder with a pin on it and places it into Sion’s hand.

She instructs him to go through the side door and enjoy some refreshments before the event begins. The baby in her lap looks up at her abruptly and bonks his sweet little head against her chin.

Sion forgets himself.

“How old?” he asks automatically, gesturing to the baby.

The master looks down into her lap.

“He is eight months and 75% lung,” she says affectionately.

“Ah. Mine was like that, too,” Sion says. “He grew out of it. He’s only 40% lung now.”

The master smiles.

Sion removes himself from her table before he embarrasses himself further.

There are enough people inside the front room of the jedi’s visitor’s wing to nearly fill it to capacity. The volume, though everyone is whispering, is great enough to be heard from outside the door. The room itself is earth-colored with a high ceiling. Its walls all contain niches with rounded borders. Columns with deep-cut creases in them arch high to the skylights.

It is all beautifully geometric, stoic, and clean. And even though the walls and floor are built from materials of warm tones, the skylights overhead and the surrounding addtion of books and holorecords set into the walls lend it a cooling quality.

What should have been imposing architectural feels more like holy space. The room is one that reverberates with reminders to respect all around you.

Sion’s fingers yearn to document this, but there is a sign right by the room��s entrance that asks politely for no recordings or holographs to be taken.

“Professor Jissard,” a familiar voice says.

Sion feels his whole body droop. He turns to see Teo Detras stood before him in his obnoxious, roaring red robes.

“I’m pleased that you too were able to secure an invitation, sir,” Teo says as though he has not attempted to place Sion on the metaphysical chopping block for each of his premises since the time they began their academic programs.

Sion opens his mouth to point out that this is also his area of study and that Teo has no monopoly on the field of Jedi architecture when a quiet passes over the room. Sion watches the heads around him lift and searches for the source of the sudden shudder of silence.

He finds it in a tall master with dark skin standing at the very front of the space. The man has tucked his hands neatly into the mouths of his sleeves.

He is Jedi Master and General Mace Windu. Sion has read and reread his essays, not caring so much for what he is talking about but how he is talking about it. His metaphors and examples should have been insight into the common experiences of those living in the Jedi temple.

Sion has found, however, that Jedi Master Mace Windu does not especially care for eloquence or metaphor. He cares only to methodically destroy the argument (if it could be called that) published by a jedi named Qui-Gon Jinn many years ago. Though Master Jinn has not published for several decades now, Master Windu’s writings remain agitated by his interpretations of the jedi’s Spiritual energy, the Force.

Just gazing upon the man now, Sion would not think him capable of agitation.

Master Windu welcomes the academics to the temple and says that he regrets not having more time to speak with each of the attendees as individuals, but there is a war on and his clone troopers require his services. He encourages people to refrain from any recordings of the temple due to its sacred nature, and he asks that attendees be mindful of the jedi Initiates (the white-robed children) who are confused and intrigued by all of the non-jedi people inhabiting their usual playroom.

He cautions everyone that if anyone slips on a toy, he warned them, and the temple is not liable for their medical bills.

This is a joke.

People are unsure of whether or not to laugh. Some laugh awkwardly far too late. Master Windu gives no sign on his face that he appreciates or disapproves of this.

Instead, he steps from his space of honor and leaves in his place a young man with feathery blonde hair and a highly expressive countenance, who drops his armload of documents on the floor obnoxiously and flings himself down to snatch up only the conference program, as if this was the most efficient way of finding it.

People know to laugh this time.

The young man begins announcing panel topics and rooms and give his strong opinions on each of them.

More people laugh. It feels less like a sin.

“And that’s all, my dears and darlings,” the young man says, “Mind your step into the conference rooms, our predecessors derived joy from an unexpected drop.”

Sion has only one panel that he will kill at minimum three bodies to sit in on. It is the one on peace strategy and resource management. He is not here for the peace strategy or the resource management parts of the talk; his burning interest yearns instead in listening to how and if people talk about their space and things. He wants to write down the language they use. He wants to learn about the physicality of peace.

He thinks ‘The Physicality of Peace’ would make a very compelling title for another book.

So he slips through the arched doors of conference room 3 and finds himself in a tiered lecture theatre. There is a small balcony with rows of pew-like benches that hangs over a lower seating area. He takes a seat at the edge of the front pew and sets his datapad on his lap for note-taking. At the front of the room there is a long bench—not a quite table, but definitely a tall bench, and behind it, there is an enormous screen for displaying images and information. Someone has very kindly thought to place a jug of water and some cups at the center of the bench by a microphone.

Sion gets the impression from its awkward, dead-center placement that it is an addition that the jedi themselves usually forego.

He wonders what that means. He only wonders for about 15 seconds before a hand touches his shoulder and he jerks in alarm.

“My apologies, sir. We were just wondering if the space next to you is available?” says the smooth-faced, copper-haired man standing above him.

He is wearing white armor on top of his layered robes. The arms and legs that emerge from his long off-white tunic are dark in color, but his boots are hard and white and come up and over his kneecaps.

Sion is speechless.

This is General and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi.

General and Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi has touched Sion’s shoulder and apologized to him.

He doesn’t have words. He can only make fish-mouthed motions and then point and nod.

General Kenobi accepts this with grace and stands up straight. He waves behind him to call his companions over to join him on the balcony’s edge.

They arrive as a pack.

Instead of coming around and staggering past Sion’s knees at the edge of the bench, General Kenobi climbs over its back and settles in. He then twists back over the row and holds his hands out; a Clone Trooper in full armor hands to him a strange bundle of woolen, brown robe. It produces legs and arms and then bright blue and white lekku once Kenobi has situated it next to him.

“Fooled ‘em,” the little Togruta that emerges from the cloth says brightly.

“Shh,” Kenobi says. “Cody, you next.”

“No, I want Rex to sit with me.”

“Ahsoka, shhh.”

“Rex.”

“Child, this is how people like me get banned from meetings; you’re not even supposed to see—”

“REX.”

“HUSH. Okay, okay. Rex. Pst. Cody, get Rex. Cody, oh for the love of—Wolffe, yes—no. Wolffe, look at me. Get Cody to get Rex.”

Sion cannot believe what he is seeing. General Kenobi appears to be sneaking half of his command into the balcony area. There are more than a few clone troopers there are at least twenty. They are somehow visibly excited despite their matching helmets. The General is able to tell them apart easily. He leans over the back of the bench again and crooks his finger at one of the troopers who leans forward. He tells them to throw something at their commander.

The Clone takes off his glove, stands, and nail a clone standing in the aisle in the head with it. The slap of contact makes this clone cease speaking in serious low tones with a clone decorated with blue edging in front of him. The first clone draws himself up perfectly straight and turns around with a fury that even Sion can feel the heat of.

His armor is painted yellow in places.

He holds the glove in his hand like a threat. The clone who threw it winces and points wordlessly to General Kenobi, then sits down in a hurry. Kenobi smiles wide and white. He has freckles on his face that do not appear on any of the images of him that appear on the news.

He’s also shorter than Sion himself, even sitting.

“Sir,” the white and yellow clone says stiffly.

“Rex,” Kenobi says through that threat of a smile. “Get over here.”

The Togruta child twists around excitedly as the clone in white and blue exits the conversation with the one in white and yellow and surveys the rows of his fellows piled into the space behind the General and the child. He has to squeeze past the line of knees and then climb over the bench to sit down next to the child, who immediately cuddles up to him.

“Hey, that’s my seat,” a new voice whispers.

Sion looks back to see General Quinlan Vos with his arms crossed over his chest, recognizable in any setting. Behind him is General Koon. General Kenobi slaps a hand to his forehead and grumbles, then shoos the blue edged clone and the child a few seats down.

The generals clamber just as awkwardly as the blue clone through the sea of knees of the troopers and then over the back of the bench.

Somehow, Sion has won the jackpot. He is now surrounded by jedi culture, literally.

“All of you, back,” Kenobi snaps down the bench when everyone is just starting to get comfortable. “Cody. Commander, come here.”

The clone trooper with the yellow edging does not want to play this game. He shifts his weight back onto his other heel as Kenobi pats the newly vacated space next to him. General Vos croons in a teasing tone something about Kenobi being especially fond of this clone.

Kenobi lurches out across the empty seat to punch him in the gut and then returns peacefully to patting the space over the sound of Vos’s moaning.

The Clone Commander has no choice. His general is giving him a directive. He gives in to the inevitable and makes his way through the knees and—much more neatly than the others—steps over the back of the bench to its seat and then into sitting. Kenobi beams at him, practically purring.

Sion needs desperately to take notes, but the subjects of said notes are right there and rudeness is intolerable in retaining his vantage point.

He fights the urge to vibrate in space as the lights begin to dim overhead and the panel chairman comes out to introduce the topic and speakers. It is only about a minute or so when a hand lands firmly on Kenobi’s right shoulder—the one by Sion’s arm. Sion jumps, but Kenobi resolutely stares directly down at the speaker.

“Obi-Wan,” Master Mace Windu’s low, low voice says right into the space between Kenobi and Sion’s ears, “Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

Kenobi begins to melt but catches himself.

“You didn’t for a while,” he said.

“Get her out of here.”

“She has a right to see her Master.”

“What part of these orders are challenging for you?”

Kenobi still does not turn around to see Master Windu, but his eyebrows sink and his brow becomes more pronounced.

“No padawans,” Master Windu says. “Ahsoka. Out.”

The togruta, still bedecked in that heavy cloak, turns to stare owlishly at Master Windu while the person at the front of the room moves on to introducing the next speaker.

“But I’m not a padawan,” the child says. “I’m obnoxious. Master Kenobi said so.”

Kenobi holds his face in a hand.

“You can be both. Come,” Master Windu says, holding out a hand.

“But I’m a cloak,” Ahsoka tries instead.

Kenobi crumples further. Master Windu’s hand finds his shoulder again. Sion can feel its heat.

“If not her, then you,” he says.

“After,” Kenobi says.

“I’ll be waiting, Obi-Wan.”

Master Windu vanishes from behind them. Sion shudders. Kenobi turns to the side and hisses at Ahsoka,

“Now look what you’ve done.”

“You’re my co-conspirator,” Ahsoka hisses back. “My—my—Rex, what’s the word?”

Clone Commander Rex does not want to give her the word. Ahsoka tugs at him.

“Rex,” she insists.

“Enabler,” Commander Rex says with bitter regret coating his words.

Ahsoka beams over the laps of the other Generals at Kenobi. He glares back through a squint. He starts to say something, but General Vos tells him to shut up in a sharp tone.

Sion looks back to the front of the room and finds that a young man with dark hair has come out to the center of the front table-bench to speak.

He is a jedi. His robes, however, are dark in color. Blacks and browns with knee-high boots.

He’s very young. Very, very young.

And nervous.

Very, very nervous.

Even from the balcony seats, Sion can see his hands shaking. He is holding a stack of white paper. It is trembling like a branch on a windy day.

“Go, go, Master, go, go,” chants little Ahsoka.

Sion finds himself abruptly appalled by the realization that the child on center stage is the master of the child a few seats over from him.

General Koon gently shushes Ahsoka. Commander Rex helpfully wraps a gloved hand over the bottom half of her face to keep her distracted.

Sion looks from them to the young man and finds that he’s already knocked over the jug of water on the bench and looks about ready to sob about it. He gathers himself, though, and brings the microphone closer to him.

He is General Anakin Skywalker, Sion now understands. He is the first speaker and he’s never in his life presented a paper at a professional conference before.

His voice shakes as he reads out the title of the article that he published (and that Sion has read) on battlefield surrender. After the second paragraph, Sion brings a hand to his lip to help him contain the emotions that come with the understanding that this boy is about to read his article, word for word, in front of a room full of academics.

He thinks now that he has been too harsh with his students.

General Skywalker is not a strong public speaker. Clearly, his expertise is in action. He stammers. He loses his place in his reading and accidentally rereads three whole sentences. Only twice does he look up from his paper, and each time it is not at the audience but at Obi-Wan Kenobi, sat next to Sion, serious as a plague.

Kenobi nods sagely.

General Skywalker is General Kenobi’s apprentice. Was General Kenobi’s apprentice. However, it is clear to all who are present today that General Skywalker is still General Kenobi’s apprentice. Desperate, the poor thing is, for Kenobi’s reassurance.

His confidence in reading grows under his former (current?) master’s approving eye until he turns a page and—horror of horrors—drops the stack of paper.

Sion’s whole body tenses in sympathy and second-hand embarrassment. Skywalker flings himself down and messily collects the papers. He hurriedly reorders them, all while stuttering ‘ums’ and ‘uhs.’

Yet, when Sion chances a peek down the line of Generals next to him, he finds that not a single one has winced. No one has laughed. Even the clone troopers all around them are as silent and steady as the night itself.

It seems like they are all listening intently to their young General on center stage. The only giveaway that sympathy is being had by any is the tiny gesture Clone Commander Rex is making with his hand. He is moving it almost imperceptibly in a circle, as if to say ‘come on, come on.’

Sion looks back to young Skywalker and waits patiently as he finds his place and carries on reading again, this time faster. This time he does not look up for his master’s eye.

He wants only for the torture to end.

He gets to the end of his paper without dropping it or repeating himself and is flushed red. He does not ask for questions. He merely says quietly into the microphone, “Thank you.”

The panel chair waits a beat before walking over to Skywalker and asking the crowd for questions on his behalf. Skywalker becomes even more luminous. Sion cannot decide whether asking a question would be more or less stressful for this poor boy.

No one asks a question.

The panel chair then starts to ask for applause for Skywalker, but before he can even finish the sentence the whole balcony breaks into uproar.

General Kenobi hoots and whistles piercingly in Sion’s ear. General Vos claps and shouts what sounds like ‘You FUCKING did it, kid. You FUCKING did it. Hip-hip—”

“HUZZAH,” the Clone Troopers behind General Vos finish for him in perfect unity.

“Hip-hip—”

“HUZZAH.”

More applause and congratulations erupts after this.

General Skywalker slams his paper into his face and bursts into tears at the front of the room.

He bolts for a doorway that Sion hadn’t even noticed was right next to the bench. General Kenobi whacks at his Clone Commander’s shoulder, and Commander Cody wraps hands around his waist and hoists him up so that he’s standing on the guardrail at the edge of the balcony. He leaps from there to the lower level then goes jogging out the same doorway his former apprentice ran through.

After another moment or two, Commander Cody stands up and snaps at the whole collection of troopers in their language. Everyone shuts up and sits back down. Commander Rex gestures for Ahsoka to put up her hood and takes from General Vos a small datapad which he gives to the child—presumably for her to occupy herself with for the next hour and a half of papers. She takes it and immediately becomes absorbed in its lightly-glowing screen.

The balcony is once again on its best behavior.

Sion doesn’t bother with listening to any of the other papers. He feels no shame at all in beginning to furiously take notes on his last twenty-five minutes with the jedi.

Upon leaving the conference room nearly two hours later, he finds himself swept up in the clone troopers’ swift and orderly exit from the space. They line up outside the hall in lines by regiment and they wait for their commanders and generals to arrive before marching back towards the visitors’ wing’s exit.

After two or three minutes, only two lines remain.

Clone Commander Rex and Clone Commander Cody stand perfectly at attention beside their lines of men. Clone Commander Rex has his jedi’s apprentice thrown over his shoulder; he has balanced her on one arm while she sleeps.

It’s very sweet. She obviously trusts the Clone Commander very much.

“Gentlemen.”

The clones snap to even tighter attention as General Mace Windu appears, walking briskly their way.

“You’re dismissed,” he says to them. “Commanders, you will remain. Obi-Wan and Anakin will join us shortly.”

“Sir,” both commanders say simultaneously.

There is a pause, and Sion sees that all of these people are now looking at him.

“Can we help you, sir?” General Windu asks.

Yes. And Sion will pay any amount of money to just know this one thing. This teeny, tiny detail.

“Sir?”

“Is that normal for you?” he blurts out.

The Clone Commanders stare. The general stares. The apprentice coughs lightly in her sleep.

“I regret to say that it is not only normal, but expected of these general and units,” General Windu says. “Please vacate this area.”

Right.

“Thank you,” Sion says.

He stiff-legs it back to the crowd of other academics and hunts down a liquid to soothe his parched throat.

The new book’s title will not be ‘The Physicality of Peace.’ It will be ‘All is Fair in Love and War: The Jedi Order and Ideologies of Family, Part I.’

--------------- Yeah, so anyways, Myth and I decided that Anakin is bad at public speaking and nothing anyone says can take this from me now, I’m invincible. (If you want this on Ao3 let me know).

#anakin skywalker #obi-wan kenobi #the clone wars #clones #guys sometimes anakin is allowed to be cute #but only like every so often I don't want him getting uppity #and thinking I actually like him or something like that #ahsoka and rex's relationship is everything to me #fic #ficlet

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the-tactician-magician · 2 years

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It seems like you guys liked the last one of these I did sooo have another. The template for this one can be found here, and my rationale can be found under the cut.

First image:

They both trust each other very much, and don't get jealous because of it. :3

I said 7 years because I'm setting this when Claude reunites with Byleth in their ending card, which takes place several months after the end of VW. Throne claiming speed running tactics ftw

Byleth can be either bi or ace depending on my mood, but she still has low horny levels. Claude is ace or demi depending on my mood, and this is the hill I will die on.

Claude is mostly a nerd but gets some jock points for riding a wyvern. He also doesn't seem very goth at all IMO. But Byleth is more on the goth side (Ashen Demon anyone?), and the only things stopping her from being full jock is her love of teaching and Claude's own nerdiness.

Both would rather show their love in private, though PDA isn't entirely out of the question. Claude likes to talk, Byleth likes to do.

Claude is hesitant about starting crimes unless someone else makes the first move, but he'll certainly (and chaotically) finish them. While Byleth isn't as chaotic as Claude, she harbors less patience and might cause diplomatic incidents with uppity nobles.

"Why do you still call me Teach when we're married?" "Hey, you called me a little shit (affectionate) once, so I will hold onto my nicknaming rights."

If I had realized that I can fill in both squares, some of these items might have both squares filled in, but alas. Just pretend that I mean 'which one is more likely to do this'.

Claude's the one that confesses and proposes first, but Byleth is the one that initiates contact, kissing, and says the L word first. Interesting contrast? This is because Claude tends to be unsure of his feelings, especially when it comes to romance, but once he decides he wants to be serious, he won't hesitate to be serious. And Byleth is slightly more horny that Claude lol

Byleth would die for Claude, but she also pragmatic enough to know that it's better to survive and turn back time when needed lmao. Still hurts every time she sees Claude die though. :(

I'd like to think that they both want kids, but Claude is the one who brings it up first! Also Byleth is scared about having kids after what happened to her mom, but Claude reassures her and will be with her every step of the way.

Don't really have much else to say about the other squares because they're pretty obvious lol

Second image:

It seems Byleth can't shake her professorial attitude, even after all these years...

Happy Claude is happy, though he can be edgy if he wants to, especially if someone is threatening those he love. When he stops making jokes, watch out, cause that's when he's getting serious. Byleth, meanwhile, used to be pretty edgy, but has softened somewhat due to Claude and her duties as queen.

Claude likes puns but he's not addicted to him like Alois. Byleth isn't great at humor but when she makes a good pun, Claude is like :O :D I'm so proud of you!

Claude always stays up late. Byleth can stay up late but prefers to go to bed at a reasonable time, and then nags Claude about getting enough sleep.

Claude can be mature sometimes but his maturity pales compared to Byleth's. Though it's important to distinguish maturity and naivety, because Byleth (and Claude lol) can be hella naive too.

Both of them are good with animals! But Claude is better with big ones like wyverns and horses. When Byleth moves into the Almyran Royal Palace, she immediately fills it up with cats and dogs lol

Claude enjoys a good feast, but he likes his quiet time too. And since Byleth vastly prefers staying at home, he's happy to give up a party for her sake.

Both of them can be either spoon, though if I had to pick, Claude spoons Byleth more often due to size.

Claude doesn't want to kill bugs, so he has to get to them before Byleth does...

Claude's clothes are comfy, so Byleth steals them pretty frequently. Not that Claude minds, since she has bad fashion sense lmao

If Claude swears, he swears in Almyran so Fodlanders don't understand him (and the reverse is true lol). Byleth swears more often, but she's still pretty quiet and stoic when she swears.

At first, Claude wants Byleth's attention for teacher's pet reasons, but he didn't give up that habit when they married. In fact, since Byleth is one of the few people Claude can trust with his true self, he misses her when she isn't around. :( Byleth is decently independent, but she'll miss Claude too if he's absent.

Claude would prefer to talk things out first but he isn't above stabbing. Though nowadays, he uh leaves the stabbing to Byleth.

Both of them can cook, though Claude is better at it because he uses spices.

Both of them can drive, though Byleth has a terrible sense of direction.

Claude's room is always a mess, with books and papers strewn everywhere. Byleth hates it that she can't sit down without sitting on a book, but she can hardly complain considering her own bad habits...

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #claude von riegan #byleth eisner #claudeleth #fics

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jcmoneydick · 4 years

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TharnType SS2 Episode 4

WHO IS CLEANING THAT KITCHEN?

Fiat and Leo's relationship seems purposely one-sided. Leo (so far) is a pushover who will do ANYTHING for Fiat (who uses this to his advantage). Fiat is a spoiled brat. Who eats like a toddler.

This just in: Type asks Tharn on a date and my heart can't take it. Type is so squishy to Tharn. (How do we induct P'Mew into the big tittie committee?) I'm getting so many spoiled vibes from Tharn too. He's been so sulky! How much has Type spoiled him through the years?

Type is, on the surface level, knocking down Tharn from moving too fast with his business endeavors. Personally, I think he doesn't want to see Tharn fail. Type fully supports Tharn but wants him to take his time (just like this whole marriage thing).

I'm getting the feeling that Fiat gets obsessive about things and people often enough for Leo to be sick of it. Fiat acknowledges that Type is keeping his distance and ignores it. It could earn him a Thiwat kick in the balls he keep fuckin around.

"The only one who's blind enough to fall for me is you." If we're talking season one, you damned right. Now... Type you're kinda all that.

I really don't like Fiat. As soon as Leo calls him out, he starts attacking. Somehow as much as I despise the character, the role and his actions are so familiar to me. Fiat reminds me of every other "villian" Mame has written (that I've seen). There's no redeeming quality really. Fiat and Kengkla are manipulative jerks to even their friends. Fiat, Kengkla and Lhong stop at nothing to get what they want. (I'm sure if I sat and watched LBC, I would sense the same from its antagonist.) I wish there was something that set Fiat apart from the others (though I am afraid of what would've happened if someone bought this point up during production).

It's my favorite shy boy! DR. KHUNPOL! He came to Champ's restaurant! Champ's shop is so... bougie... uppity(?). Like not what I was expecting at all. These two definitely has some really sweet, unresolved feelings towards each other. One too many late study nights followed by even later meals. (I'm gonna need a fic about that.) Also, where are your glasses, Dr. Khunpol?

My wedding colors were champagne and burgundy so P'Thorn and Tharn wearing these colors are giving me so many wedding vibes. They pair so well together, especially on their suits. I'm happy P'Thorn talked Tharn a little further down. Type loves Tharn but hates feeling like a burden, or that he isn't good enough for Tharn. Type is insecure too and I think Tharn may have forgotten that.

P'Thorn we gon fight. Sexual harassment IS grounds for termination. There should be no reason for you too keep someone you have to beat off your "eligible" friends on your payroll.

I love how Type is probably the smartest one in the whole show. He immediately catches on to the fishy characters in Tharn's life. You will never catch Type fumbling.

I hate how Techno is probably the dumbest person in the whole show. I know there's more to Techno. They aren't doing him any justice. But at least he's there for Type. Even if he can't keep a secret.

*gold digger plays in the background*

Type is so precise and calculating. He dressed up to see this woman. He walks in with the confidence of Tyra Banks. He is Type Thiwat Phawattakhun and fuck with his man you will not.

I'm living for the end credit group chats. But leave it up to 'No to include more people in the gc.

#tharn kirigun #tharntype 2: 7 years of love #tharntype #type thiwat #drkhunpol #champ

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anoddkpopfan · 4 years

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The Wine Cellar (Co-worker AU)

Words: 2.7k

This consists of: Daddy Kink, Dom!Jimin, Oral (male receiving), Dirty talk, You know, dirty stuff!

Synopsis: You’re an assistant who has a two year long crush on your boss’s secretary, Park Jimin. You believe it’s one-sided, but when your friend convinces you to hook up with someone else; Jimin’s real feelings might just come to light.

It’s around nine o’clock pm, laughter and gossip fill the ballroom inside your boss’s house. Behind the uppity facade you can envision the thoughts running through your coworker’s minds. A great percentage of people came to this party to butter up to your boss, and you felt yourself holding back laughter as you watched your peers attempt to earn a pay raise or promotion in their ankle-length gowns and black tuxedos.

What are you doing? Well, you’re sitting back and watching the show. You see, you are the CEO’s assistant. You have every other weekday to butter up to him, and you’ve come to this party for the free food and entertainment of watching people trip over themselves. You, along with your boss’s secretary (and the crush you’re too ashamed to admit), Park Jimin. The two of you planned to spend tonight mocking everyone earlier this morning. Though, you two weren’t as “alone” as you’d like to be.

Yeah, while a large percentage of guests made it their goal to get on your boss’s good side, another group of them were women looking for the opportunity to get into Park Jimin’s pants. After all, he is one of the more handsome men in the office with close ties to the CEO. He also gives off committable “vibes” considering that his body count within the office is nonexistent. Many of them were wary of you. You and Jimin have become awfully close in the last two years, and luckily you’re past your temporary Park Jimin obsession. Now you sort of admire him from afar, assuring his fangirls that the two of you are only friends.

Though, you almost lost your cool the minute you saw him in his suit.

Instead of a typical tux he wore a white collared shirt, along with a navy blue suit jacket and dress pants. He looked gorgeous, and he teased you the moment he noticed your eyes lingering on his appearance for an unreasonable amount of time. It wasn’t embarrassing or anything, the two of you playfully flirt quite often. In fact, many people in the office are convinced the two of you will get together one day. And of course, a part of you hopes they’re not wrong.

You’d begun to zone out as you listened to a coworker list off all of the overtime he’d done this week to your boss. Jimin waltzed over to your side with two champagne glasses, placing one into your hands as he leaned against the wall next to you, “Are you going to thank me, or what?”

You took the drink and raised an eyebrow, “For what? Trying to incriminate me? I can’t drive home drunk.”

“It’s only one glass, sweetheart. No worries, you know I wouldn’t put you in danger.” Jimin pretended to ponder for a second, “Well, at least not with this many witnesses.” You playfully glare his way and he responds with a dumb smile that makes your heart melt.

“On second thought, I shouldn’t drink this, it might be poisoned.” You held it towards him, and he unexpectedly moved closer to you, taking your drink and looking into your eyes as he took a sip from your glass, “No poison here.”

He wanted a reaction out of you and he wasn’t going to get it. He walked past you, placing the champagne back in your hand before heading in your boss’s direction. You let out a sigh, closing your eyes for a second before opening them again. Your poor heart needs a break from this. What you see next is a group of your girl friends motionig you over to them. You slowly (but surely) make your way towards them, but you weren’t sure why they wanted you over there. Your coworker Jung Yuna grabbed your hand, leading you over to the group of girls. Yuna hesitated for a second before asking you a question:

“Y/n… we just wanted to know.. something is going on with you and Jimin, right?” Oh there was definitely something. But you weren’t sure about it all so you shake your head ‘no’.

“Really? It doesn’t seem like it.” Another one of your peers, Jae Ina chimed in.

You shrug your shoulders, “No, I’m not with anyone at the moment.” A smile came to Yuna’s face and she locked arms with you, she turned you around and your eyes landed on Mark Tuan. Another bachelor in the office, except his body count is a bit off the charts, he’s charming and intelligent, or so you’ve heard.

“A little bird told me that Mark has been waiting for the day the two of you hook up. I’m just saying if you’re really not with Jimin, why not make tonight fun for yourself?” Yuna suggests. You have a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. It’s not Mark’s fault, he is a handsome man, and you’re sure he’s good in the sack. But you couldn’t help but feel wrong about it.

“Well.. I, I guess it couldn’t hurt.” You mumble towards Yuna who nods her head at your words. Perhaps this Mark guy can bring you back into reality, and bring you out of this fantasy world where Jimin might just actually feel something for you.

Mark’s eyes eventually wander towards your direction. Once the two of you make eye contact, he sends a smile your way, and you return it. He was talking to some of his buddies, he whispered something to them before putting his glass down and making his way towards your table. The girls at your table made eye contact before walking away, leaving you alone there.

“Y/n. I couldn’t help but notice you staring from across the room.” Mark immediately let out and you rolled your eyes at his words.

“It was only a quick glance, If anything.” You correct him before taking a sip of your glass. You soon remember the lips that touched the glass before and images of him flashed through your mind.

Your eyes glanced to the side to see familiar eyes looking at you. Park Jimin was staring right in your direction with a confused look on his face. And you felt a fire erupt in you.

“A quick glance?” Mark said aloud, calling out your bullshit. Placing his hand on the table, moving noticeably closer towards you.

“Fine.. I was admiring the view,” You admit, your hand sliding to onto his on the table, “Got a problem with that?” He shakes his head.

“I guess my little scheme worked? You didn’t notice the way I look at you, darling?” Mark asked and you shook your head.

“Try harder then, who knows? I could be yours before you know it.” You were sort of just humoring him, you weren’t sure if you’d actually hook up with this guy.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting this, I was sure you were..” Mark hesitated for a second, and you tilted your head to the side.

“I was sure you were Jimin’s girl.” You felt your heart nearly erupt at the thought of that title being yours. You knew you looked confused because he laughed at the way your face scrunched together in confusion.

“Hey Marky, I’m going to need to steal your little girlfriend for a few minutes.” You hear a voice say. Jimin’s voice, though it’s a bit raspier than normal. He seemed as if he was almost disgusted by the sight of you and Mark together. A part of you considered that he might possibly be jealous. But you didn’t want to make up stories in your head.

“Ah, why? We were having a good chat.” Mark clearly didn’t want this to end. He’s been holding back on getting at you, and tonight could be the night you let him into your bed.

“Duty calls.” Jimin replied simply before walking away from the two of you. You waved to Mark before following after Jimin, confused on where you were going.

“Umm.. does the boss need me or something?” You asked him, confused.

“He asked us to bring up more wine. He keeps them down in his wine cellar.” Jimin let out flatly and you nodded your head at his words. There was an awkward silence between the two of you now, and it stayed that way when you two entered the cellar.

“He said grab anything, but the older the better.” Jimin told you. You nodded once again and went down on your knees to look at all the names of the wines, you picked up two and read the—

Click.

“What happened?” You asked, and Jimin let out a sigh of disappointment.

“The door locked, I let it close and it locked itself. Shit, the boss warned me about that.” Jimin ran his hand through his hair.

“Seriously Jimin? You Locked us in here? You had one job.” You put the bottles back and got up from your place and tried to open the door, surely enough the knob wouldn’t budge. Jimin sighed and put his hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall. You tried your best but you couldn’t get the door open. This wouldn’t be so bad if Jimin hadn’t been acting so weird. You give up escaping and decide to look around the room instead. It looked like a library, except the shelves were filled with alcohol. There was a counter off to the side with a sink as well. You studied the bottles for a second. You reached for one carefully, but despite being careful it slipped from your hands. Instead of a crash you watched as hands caught the bottle.

“Be careful, would you?” Jimin warned you before putting it back in its place.

“My bad.”

“Maybe don’t touch anything.” Jimin suggested.

“Well, I don't even have my phone. so I’m stuck in here with you and your shitty attitude.” You complain and Jimin scoffs.

“Wow, too bad it’s me, I’m sure you just can’t wait to get out of here so you can flirt it up with Mark Tuan.” Your eyebrows scrunch up at his words before you let out a sigh.

“You know what? Maybe I do. Mark is a man who knows what he wants.” You claim confidently, “Maybe you should learn a little something from it.” Jimin’s face drops. He moves closer and you step back until your back hits the shelf. He slowly moves his hand up to your throat, but you don't falter under his touch.

“You.. you really want a reaction out of me today, don’t you?” You don’t respond, you simply look into his eyes, a certain darkness evident in your eyes. Jimin’s hand moves from your throat to your back. He pulls you close with one arm while his other hand is placed against the shelf. Your forehead’s touch for a few seconds, and before you know it his lips are on yours. The kiss is so very passionate, two years of wanting each other put into it. You grip onto Jimin’s suit jacket, pulling it off, he moves his hands from their place to help throw it off. Once he puts his hands on the shelf again, he nearly knocks down some of the wine bottles. The two of you smile at this, Jimin decides to do this in a more convenient place, lifting you up and moving the two of you to a counter. Soon you’re on the counter with Jimin’s pelvis in between your legs. He litters kisses up and down your neck, and nibbles on your exposed collar bone.

“that night at the bar.. what was it you told me? You’ve got a little daddy kink, love? Good, because that’s all you’re gonna be saying the next 20 minutes, Capiche?” You remembered that night, the two of you getting a little too drunk after a hard day at work. A night that ended with the two of you spilling out your darkest fantasies. But at this moment, you were still in shock of what was happening, so you let out a pathetic:

“Huh..?” Jimin chuckled at your words. He pulled away from your collar bone, gripping onto your chin and looking into your eyes, “We’ve got about 20 minutes before the boss realizes we’re gone. How about we take advantage. Let me fuck you, right here, right now. In our boss’s home. What do you think about that, hmm?” That sounded like a great idea.

“Mhmm.” You moan out, he moved closer, practically whispering in your ear, “I need words baby, use your words.” You felt your stomach erupt in butterflies, and all you could think about is his member poking against your leg, and how badly you wanted it inside of you.

“Daddy.. Yes, please, fuck me right here in our boss’ house.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He let out before moving his hand to your back to softly unzip your back, “You sure? we could just wait this out so you can end this night with a mediocre fuck from Marky out there.” You shook your head quickly, cooperating with getting your dress off.

“No.. it’s you.” Once your dress hit the floor you wrapped your legs around Jimin’s hips, pulling him closer, “I only want you, daddy. No one else.”

“Love to hear it.” He whispered back, He took a second to admire you without your dress, he put his fingers on your panties, satisfied with how wet you were, “So beautiful, If we had all night i’d spend hours making you feel good.” His finger moved faster and your toes clenched as you let out little whines and moans at the feeling. The atmosphere was heating up, and Jimin had to unbutton a few buttons of his shirt. While he was distracted with this, you took it upon yourself to pull his member out from his pants. You softly ran your hands up and down his cock, Jimin bit his lip at the feeling, and his reaction resulted in your hand moving quicker.

“F-fucking hell.” He stutters out, his hand gripping on your thigh, “Shit, I won’t be able to control myself. I want you to come all over my cock, gorgeous.” He whispered out, moving your panties to the side and pushing inside of you. The both of you let out sighs of satisfaction. Jimin started off slowly, slow but powerful. He pulled out just to slam back into you. It’s so embarrassing, but you couldn’t take it. Your crush of two years is fucking you in your boss’s liquor wine cellar for goodness sake. You felt so scandalous, and it turned you on even more. You let out a loud moan as you unexpectedly cummed all over him.

“Shit.. did you just cum already?” He asked, but the situation turned him on even more. He wasn’t going to stop. He wants to wreck you. Make you regret even speaking to Mark.

“Daddy’s gonna speed up now, take me like a good girl.” Jimin managed to push even deeper into you, but his pace sped up. Your senses overwhelmed you since you just came, but you didn't want him to stop. Your moans got louder and louder and they wouldn’t stop. Finally Jimin covers your mouth with his hand.

“As much as I love your moans, the last thing I want is someone interrupting us.” Jimin growls out. Since he silenced you, you got to hear his little grunts and praises the more he fucked you. You couldn’t take it, the noises he made made you feel like you were on top of the world. You clenched around him as you came again and this time Jimin moaned out louder than you. He rode out your orgasm before pulling out of you, “On your knees..”

You wobbled off the counter and went down to your knees. You placed your hand on his member, trying to get him to release onto you. Jimin’s hand gripped on your hair. He moved his dick to your mouth and you opened up. Only to feel him shoot right into your mouth, “Oh.. oh fuck.”

Jimin picked you back up, placing you on the counter. He was breathing heavily, and so were you. He kissed you softly before wrapping his arms around your waist. You hugged him back, and the room went quiet. You guys held on to each other for a few minutes. It felt amazing.. Being in each other's arms.

“Y/n, you know... I kinda like you.”

This all happened because of a fancam. :s

#bts #kpop #bts smut #bts jimin #Mark #bts au #bts coworker #bts sexy #jimin #park jimin #bts kpop #bts non idol au #woopee!#park jimin smut #jimin smut #x reader #reader x jimin

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coconutshvings · 5 years

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ATZ Reaction: You live in a bad part of town/neighborhood {Hyung Line}

∵ Group || Ateez

∵ Genre || Highschool AU

∵ Warnings || Mentions of drugs, swearing, some are shorter than others , typos

This story is not to be offensive to anyone, I didn't grow up in the best neighborhood myself while living in Chicago, this is strictly a story to show that a person who truly loves you wouldn't care where you came from even if it wasn't the best enviroment, also, never let the enviroment you grew up in mold you into a person unless that's what you personally want ~ WR:Le ♡

Hongjoong:

The Grey sky out side hid any signs of light in it as rain poured down heavily causing small but loud thuds to hit all over his vehicle, sketchy figures would pass by ever now and again while others stood infront of the decaying apartment buildings that he parked across from.

This area wasn't one he had been in often, at all actually. However, he made this trip to come and see you well- give you your geography study book for you upcoming quiz that you needed to study. All be it he'd see you and maybe make a small conversation because if it wasn't clear since Junior year, he liked you, a lot.

He'd seen your information including your number written on the book and gave you a call to which you told him to just drop off to you at the address he was sitting at now, waiting. The delicate knock on his window caught him and he looked to see you in your rain resistance hoodie squinting in the droplets. He quickly grabbed your book from his passenger seat rolling down the window and handing it to you with a gentle smile that spoke of his adoration for you.

"I was beginning to think you'd written the wrong address down." He lightly joked speaking loudly over the rain making you smile "Why, because this isn't the neighborhood you pictured me living in?" Hongjoong's eyes were screaming and you could sew his panicking figure,

"I was joking! I know you aren't some uppity entitled person." His body visibly "Good because I'd never be that way towards anyone." You nodded understanding not noticing the rain quieted down and so did your voices.

"I'll see you tomorrow in fifth period?" , He smiled at your question "Of course. Let me know if you need a studying partner."

"Will do."

Seonghwa:

Never in a million years did he think you'd be ashamed to be walked somewhere, you enjoyed his company but he'd never asked to walk you home before even though you quickly said no it was easy to change that answer when you seen the hurt and question on his face. So here you were, quietly walking home hand in hand, Seonghwa was walking on sunshine after you'd changed your answer he didn't notice your longing face before you could Cross the street you abruptly halted pulling at his hand causing him to sling backwards,

"This walk is long I don't want you to endure it." You spoke suspiciously but he hadn't caught it "More time with you." He simply replied before attempting to walk again but once again being stopped by you,

"Then you'll have to walk back alone." ,

"I'll call for a ride once I get in front of your house." The pulse in your neck began to jump as he clearly didn't understand why you kept making excuses, you had to flat out tell him now,

"I don't want you to walk me home," you searched his eyes for any sign of anger but they were just boring into your own, "because it's not safe for.. Y'know, you." This made him scoff in a comedic tone,

"You think because you live somewhere that you personally consider to be dangerous that it's personally not safe for me? Y/n I have friends that live in your neighborhood, I have friends everywhere." You were taken aback "You do?"

"You think all my friend live in golden gated communities with foutains in every yard? No. They come from all walk of life, I'm not scared of a neighborhood, I'm scared of you being too ashamed of where you come from to not let me see it because you shouldn't be, ever."

Looking at the sincerity and determination in his eyes with evident sparkles as well you'd lost for sure, "I'm sorry for trying to deny this walk and sort of categorizing you." Seonghwa deeply sighed, "It's alright, you don't ever have to be ashamed of your upbringing, family, anything with me. I like you regardless." That was such a relief to hear.

Yunho:

He simply followed the directions you'd given him to your house, you stayed on the phone with him as he walked just in case he got into any trouble, "I don't need you to babysit me over the phone." He tried to sound convincing, "Yeah you do. I'm not hanging up and you better not either."

You sternly said. Yunho knew all about this sketchy side of town, the high crime rates, drug hideouts or half way houses, police sirens were heard at least 3 times a day but he didn't care he was coming to his love either way no matter the stakes it'd only prove his feelings more with the lengths he was willing to go,

"I can follow directions well." He heard you chuckle "Good now follow my directions and don't hang up this phone." Yunho loved your take charge attitude especially when it was for his good, "You definitely run this relationship, huh?" ,

"Only when you're too tired or unconscious to." He could feel your grinning smile though he couldn't see it , "I promise I'll make it there safely baby I'm almost there, I think," Yunho spoke teasing you knowing you'd start to stress a bit "Yunho do I-" ,

"That was a joke I'm not lost." He could hear you grumble annoyed, "I'm on this street name-" Yunho's sentence was caught off with an oomf you listened closely to hear if he was okay. Yunho stood up dusting himself off after he hit a hard yet soft object, human object.

He was busy searching for his phone to look at the angry trio of men looking his way ready to skin him alive.

"You have no knowledge about watching where the fuck you're going kid or are you just empty headed all together?" A gruff voice spoke startling Yunho, he finally looked up seeing the three males with menace like features, they all looked as if they could break his entire skull with a single punch without much muscle.

"I apologize, really. I'll be out of your way." He tried to smooth over the situation a rough laugh was heard "You'll be out of everyone's way if I get my hands on you." Another man spoke though Yunho's shakey eyes never left the man in front of him he could see the remaining two men swiftly move there hands to their inside jacket pockets, he'd seen movies like this either they'd pull out a deadly weapon or a lollipop.

"Uhm, it'll never happen again sir- sirs." He corrected stumbling over his own words. "If it does nothing will happen to him anyway." An all too familiar voice added, never had Yunho whirled around so quickly "Y/N?!" A Tone of fear, relief, and excitement was heard his his voice,

"You know this clown?" Yunho's eyes were screaming for you both to make a break for it, "Yes Uncle Roy, this is my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!"

"Uncle?!"

They both chimed in union but you ignored both grabbing Yunho's hand and pulling him away from your uncle and his goons.

"I don't need protecting," You mocked him "You walked past the block you were supposed to turn on Mr. 'I can follow directions well'" you scolded playfully

"My phone." Was all Yunho could say.

Yeosang:

He loved being on this side of town, the graffiti run down buildings, people on every corner looks ranging from lovely people to those parents would warn to stay away from but Yeosang didn't care.

He was a long way from home but that didn't matter, the pot holes that filled the streets in this part of town the corner stores that lit up almost every street was different from the clean cut grass and untarnished pavements that usually surrounded him, it was all so suffocating and too clean cut for him.

He wanted to explore every enviroment and have friends in all it may be a strange task but he wasn't one for the normal anyway, the unknown excited him even if it was dangerous.

He walked the side walk with weeds growing out of some of the cracks happily looking at the busy streets and in the store windows in business or out, cracked or squeaky clean. "Yeosang?" A voice carried through the air, "Yeosang over here!" His eyes scanned and scanned until he saw you attempting to Cross the busy street,

you looked to him like a pretty yet unprotected rare artifact that he wanted to keep for himself, Heaven knew he carried this deep care and emotion for you that most would describe as a crush.

He waited til you safely crossed in front of him to speak "Didn't think I'd see you over this way." , "I live over here you however are a long way away from home aren't you?" Yeosang Shrugged "I like the scenery."

You looked past him then back to him "What scenery? There aren't any museums or statues around , this part of town isn't the best." You admitted,

"Which is what makes it great, it's not some land of perfection where you can't breath longer than 7 seconds," you raised your brow at him asking him to explain further making him sigh,

"Okay I know it sounds ungrateful, I truly blessed to have grew up in the enviroment that I did but it's also blocking me from the rest of the world, leaving me unprepared and curious, I have opportunities in my neighborhood but still so many restrictions."

You hummed "And what opportunities do you think you'll have out here?" He thought for a moment "You guys have the best hip hop dance classes here, they only teach contemporary and well, everything but hip hop based anything or remotely related to the genre where I live."

You laughed at his almost tantrum like attitude, "So you're looking for a place to take dance classes at out here?" You asked with him sending a nod in response. "You could help me look for one if you're not busy?" He questioned "I could . I was only going to buy some junk food but that can wait, I know this town front and back, "

You could see the cheerful hope in his eyes that begged you to help him find a dance studio where he could be free so you couldn't deny his request, well, you didn't want to. "let's go find you a dance stuido." You finished seeing Yeosang cheer silently

"I'll buy you food after?" He offered "You definitely got me now." You grinned linking your arm with his as you both began to walk together to find him a nice spot to showcase his love for hip hop and dance while exploring the city and maybe the depths of your friendship as well.

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