#maybe you need to watch real propaganda movies to really notice the propaganda shots and to see when they are used for satire

[motsimages]

Some "subtleties" I really enjoyed in Starship Troopers during yesterday's rewatch:

Framing meteors, asteroids and other celestial bodies that are quite frequent in space as the weapon of the bugs. When the movie begins and we are informed of "another attack", is it really an attack? It's just a meteor, we haven't even seen the bugs, we have no context about this "war". It has been decided that they are attacking and invading (there is a certain level of planning and strategy for this), while at the same time, only after the second half of the movie the possibility of bugs being intelligent is mentioned. Also, Klendathu is very far from Earth, how much of a threat are they?

In the first minute of the movie, during the "I'm doing my part" ad, there is a literal child soldier. As a matter of fact, there are two ads that feature children: one giving them assault weapons and one stepping on bugs with violence. You gotta get them young.

All of the teachers in *high-school* are severely disabled by war.

Rico ("rich man" in Spanish) has no personality whatsoever. He isn't a good student and has no ambition. He ends up doing what he does by sheer luck. He goes to the Service because of a girl and to be against his father, he stays in the Service because he literally has nowhere else to go. He is so bland that even his encouraging speeches to the troops once he becomes lieutenant are exactly the same as his predecessors. He repeats the textbook definition of a citizen even after experiencing war and he still doesn't know what it means. He does what is expected of him, while the movie kind of frames him as breaking the mold and being a rebel because he doesn't do what his father wants him to do. But he does what the government needs of him and people like him.

For once, I believe having 35 year olds playing teenagers is on purpose.

Carmen is The Ideal Girl of the Federal Service. Her acting and her shots are always charming, not only is she cute, she plays cute, you have to fall in love with her and everything she does or the movie does around her supports this. Compare with Diz, who is also a very beautiful woman but her acting and her shots tell she is more of a tomboy. She is there to let the audience know that women can also become war meat soldiers.

"Service guarantees citizenship". *Guarantees*. There may be other ways of becoming a citizen, but they are harder and are never mentioned in the movie, it is all about Service as if it was the only way (and for some things, like being a politician, it is). "Citizen" is also used in opposition to "civilian" kind of implying that "civilians" are not "citizens". Again, this is a propaganda war movie from the future, so we don't get to see what it means in daily life to have this separation between "civilian" and "citizen", but we know citizens have privileges. Also: Rico is rich, his family is rich, his parents aren't citizens.

The pledge of alliance that is actually a legal waiver.

Rico saying he will join the infantry to the recruiter who has a missing arm and him proudly saying "Infantry made me the man I am today" while casually showing Rico and the audience that he is also missing both his legs. Almost all adults we've seen until this moment are disabled from war.

The shower scene. All those handsome young men and women full of energy and life who get along are asked to say why they joined while fully naked. A subliminal ad, the brochure to convince kids. Some things are the same as joining the army ("Harvard will cost *an arm and a leg* but the Federation will pay for it"), some others are painfully dystopian ("It is easier to get a license to be a mother"). So civilians need authorisation to be parents, but the Federal Service is more or less counting on survivors to motivate their children to join and keep the war machine going.

Showing an ad of a terrible bug killing a cow but censoring the cow dying immediately followed by "the mormons" (are they mormons, though? Aren't they just the squad the Roughnecks find in Planet P?) killed in terrific ways, showed in great detail of gore and blood.

The whole Doctor Mengele vibes of Carl who joins the division called "Games and Theory". *Games*. His vibes were off even in high school and his whole "mind control" (which the movie doesn't really confirm is a real thing, it makes the narrative around it as if it was but "it's afraid" is not mind reading and "it's classified" as an explanation is nothing really). I don't know if it's worse if he can actualy do telepathy or if he can't but is living off of it. Some "The men who stare at goats" army shit there.

Carl making an ad to show the superweapon they will use against the bugs, but that weapon is only used in the ad. The infantry uses their average weapons that are mostly ineffective for killing bugs.

When Carl reappears and says that his division is the one making the choices for whatever Fleet and Infantry do, and he says he sends people to their death on purpose to test theories and Rico says "That's what the infantry is for" fully convinced that yes, we came here to be killed.

Infantry is made of younger and younger people.

When Carmen, Carl and Rico meet again after the fight and they get the kind of heroic shot of the three of them together surrounded by celebrating soldiers and Carmen says something like "When the three of us are together, maybe things can work out". They spent the movie apart. Carl disappears once he joins and reappears only at the end. They didn't even capture the bug, another team did. But they are a metaphore of joined efforts of the three branches of the Federal Service, they aren't really characters.

Carmen and Rico never get serious injuries. In this scene of celebration, Carmen is bleeding from one arm (and that arm should be completely unusable and she should be in great pain) but she was able to shoot and use that arm as if nothing happened. Rico fully ricovered from his leg injury. And even, they just scaped running from an exploding cave, their hair is clean and perfectly combed even though moments before it wasn't.

The person who captured the bug was the training officer of Rico, but he had to demote himself to be able to fight and become the hero who captured the bug. The propaganda message for recruiting kids being "you get the action and the merit if you stay a private", even after most of the privates in Rico's company have been kileed in horrific ways.

How the news titles change according to the story the propaganda wants to reinforce.

Only the young, beautiful, white, smiling people survive.

Ending the movie with humans probing the bug the same way the bug was probing the humans less than 20 minutes before.

The whole cinematography that is one shot after the other of propaganda war movies and quips to create complicity with the audience.

Ay Verhoeven, qué bien lo haces, jodío. I really like how it's a movie within a movie. There are nods to the audience in the 24th Century who are watching this propaganda movie (every single scene of Carmen) and at the same time, there are nods to us watching the movie now to let us know how this is all wrong (the recruiter's "Infantry made me the man I am today").

[thanksjro]

More Than Meets the Eye #30 - The Cybertronian Judicial System is a Friggin’ Joke

Have I mentioned that I’m not a huge fan of court case stories? I think they’re pretty boring, on average, so the last couple of issues have been slightly dragging for me.

Anyway, back to Megatron’s trial. 

Our issue opens up with a full back shot of Ultra Magnus.

Artists take note, he really is built like a capital T.

As Magnus reads out Megatron’s statement retracting his “guilty” plea, we get some decent points as to why. See, telling a guy that you’ll stab him in the brain, so his trial can be over as quickly as possible, maybe isn’t such a hot idea. Megatron wasn’t a huge fan of that, or of how those memories they would’ve yanked outta him would have been used to fuel the Autobot propaganda machine. Why, you may ask?

Well, I don’t know if you knew this or not, but Megatron… doesn’t particularly care for the Autobots, nor the rhetoric they uphold.

I know, I was surprised too!

There’s also the fact that Optimus Prime is the judge on this whole thing. You know. Optimus Prime. Off and on leader of the Autobots, whenever it suits him. The guy who fucked off into space for a year after the war. The guy who threw a hissy fit when someone pointed out that he was compromised the last time they did something like this with Megatron. This guy:

Yeah, there might be a slight conflict of interests here. Remind me again why this had to be a military trial?

Anyway, enough of that, it’s time for a fight scene.

A swarm of Decepticons storm the arena, going after Megatron so they can help him escape. Magnus, though acting as Megatron’s defense, cannot abide by this disorder in the court.

Wild to think there’s a tiny little Pringles man with anxiety in there, isn’t it?

Optimus joins the fray, because there really are, just, so many guys to deal with here. A dude goes to collect Megatron, stating that they brought teleport packs for this little shindig. Megatron isn’t super jazzed about that though, not bothering to grab on before the dude gets shot to death. There’s a brief recess, I guess so the janitorial staff can deal with the mess of corpses littering the courtroom.

Meanwhile, in the present day, Rung’s building a model spaceship in Swerve’s, which is a very brave thing to be doing, seeing how sticky and gross bars can be. Brainstorm’s brought a flask to the bar, and proceeds to pour the contents into a funnel sticking out of his arm.

Our bartender for the evening- I’m assuming it’s evening, but I doubt the concept of time has any real weight in space- is Bluestreak. Bluestreak was stationed on Earth for a while, which is some Phase One stuff, and took a liking to human media while he was there. He’s the guy who handles movie night these days, seeing as Rewind’s too busy being dead to do it, and I doubt Chromedome has the emotional bandwidth to take over for his late spouse.

Bluestreak’s favorite movie is Zulu, a film glorifying the colonialism of the English over the native populace of an African kingdom. Make of that what you will.

Whirl wants to watch À Bout de Soufflé, or Breathless, as it was translated for the English-speaking world, which is a French New Wave film about a criminal who shoots a cop, hides from the police in a journalist’s home, who he seduces and likely impregnates. She eventually finds out what he did, reports him to the police, but then has a change of heart and lets him know what she’s done. He runs, but is shot, and dies in the street. The film is notable for its final scene, in which the following dialogue happens, between the dying criminal Michael, his lover Patricia, and an officer.

Of course, any poignancy would almost certainly be lost on the average comic book reader, and is also somewhat nullified by Whirl praising the film with internet lingo.

Then again, I suppose Whirl would be the type to dismantle any deeper reading of his interest in such a film, lest he be subjected to the horrifying ordeal of being known.

Over with Skids and Riptide, it’s revealed that Megatron’s been teaching classes on the Lost Light, specifically on the Knights of Cybertron. Riptide’s getting an education, because he’s been feeling pretty lost since the war ended- we’ll get to the potential whys of that later on. Swerve isn’t a fan of this community college thing that’s going on, stating that Megatron’s using it as a distraction, so he can devise plots most foul.

Back in the past, Autobot high command is having a talk about what Megatron’s demanding, and man is it a doozy— turns out, since the trial’s happening on Luna 2, the trial proceedings are subject to the laws of the moon. One of these moon laws is the right to request being judged by the Knights of Cybertron. Now, this is a problem, seeing as the Knights of Cybertron have been AWOL for the last several million years, but the law is the law, and you can’t just go ignoring it when someone’s pointed it out.

Bro, your SIC just suggested y’all pull the trial so you could slap it on Cybertron, thus negating any need to pay attention to the Knight law. That’s such a gross miscarrying of justice, it’s genuinely baffling. You’ve got bigger issues going on than flouting. My god, Optimus, you were a cop—

Oh wait, that’s right. Carry on, then.

Back on the Lost Light, First Aid’s checking to make sure that the coffin Rodimus they revealed last issue is true and proper dead. Now, this may seem like a given, but you’ve got to remember that Brainstorm was mostly dead for over a year and a half, and nobody fucking noticed, so it’s probably for the best that they’re checking.

First Aid’s been pretty withdrawn since Ambulon died, so this autopsy is really good for him, since it got him out of his room. Pretty fucked up that it would take a dead body to get him out and about. Has Rung checked in on his poor son of a gun, or has he been spending the last six months getting his professional rocks off psychoanalyzing a genocidal warlord?

Our coffin Rodimus died from having parts of his brain removed, and potentially died screaming.

Yes, that is a Furmanism, thank you peanut gallery, moving on—

Ratchet hands the phone over to Ultra Magnus, saying that a call has to be made, and it can’t be by him, because the callee is mighty upset with Ratchet at the moment.

Oh, I guess he’s fine after all. This must be where the sci-fi bullshit really starts kicking in for the series.

Because seeing your own dead body is likely very traumatic and awful, Rodimus is taking a while to string together his thoughts on the matter. Megatron doesn’t particularly care, because he’s not terribly sympathetic to this sort of thing, and the two get into a spat, where it’s revealed that they’re co-captaining the Lost Light.

Because things weren’t chaotic enough on this fucking ship. Need to mix in some peacocking between the McDonalds twunk and the man who killed half of Beijing.

Back in the past, Optimus Prime visited Megatron in prison to have a little chat. It’s not about that little rescue attempt, though the fact that those Decepticons may have been released from the Lost Light’s brig is certainly interesting. No, Optimus is here to sit way too close to his mortal nemesis on the floor of his room and talk about how Megatron is a sneaky bastard.

You remember the Hellraiser puzzle box from a couple issues back? Yeah, that was a communicube, one that was passed to Optimus to suggest that the trial be held on the moon, so the arena there would be able to hold all the people wronged by Megatron. This seems pretty damn convenient in hindsight, but Megatron swears that the legal loophole wasn’t his only intent when he sent the cube.

Because it’s all about you, isn’t it, Megatron? It’s all about how you’re perceived by future generations. Fuck the guys who had to actually deal with what your personal choices caused to happen.

Megatron wants to make amends with all those who were wronged by him. This doesn’t include being acquitted of his crimes, which, y’know, good- at least he’s being slightly realistic about how this is going to turn out for him.

What he wants to do is find Cyberutopia, so the Cybertronians have a replacement planet, since Cybertron kind of sucks now.

Oh, sorry, did I say realistic? I take it back.

In the present, Rodimus is still bummed out about being dead. Still, the day doesn’t stop just because it’s a bad one, and he calls in the experts.

CHROMEDOME YOU PROMISED TO STOP THIS SHIT

Yeah, no, Chromedome’s fallen off the wagon again, and does his thing on the coffin Rodimus. As he does, Megatron suddenly gets squeamish, Brainstorm pulls out his early early-warning device to lean on the fourth wall, and it’s revealed that the coffin that coffin Rodimus was in was built in the fashion of the Spectralist faith.

All Chromedome can suss out of coffin Rodimus’ memories is the really big important stuff, which includes the speech at Rivet’s Field inviting folks to come join the Knight Quest. Aww, that’s sweet.

With the analysis of the innermost energon complete, the results are in— the coffin Rodimus is a Rodimus. A real one, from the near future. Bummer.

I suppose denial is one of the seven stages of grief, isn’t it?

As everyone argues over whether or not Rodimus is going to die, Nightbeat brings up a good point— there aren’t any numbers carved into the coffin Rodimus’ hand. Rodimus is about to reveal some Ratchet-original wisdom, when things start getting really weird; whole sections of the Lost Light are disappearing.

Over at Swerve’s, Tailgate is regaling his peers with the story of his derring-do against Chief Justice Tyrest. Everyone is very impressed, and this includes our good buddy Getaway.

Jeez, think you’ve got enough antagonist shadows on this guy? It’s almost as if the art’s trying to tell us something about him.

Getaway lays it on real thick, saying that Tailgate could totally be the next Prime, with how courageous and awesome he is, all while completely ignoring Tailgate’s personal space and having a weirdly tiny hand. This seems to seriously bother Cyclonus, who is watching this shit go down from the doorway. Our purple space jet leaves once the drinks start being poured and conversation starts happening. God knows he hates talking about his insecurities.

Then the Pipes is Friggin’ Dead alarm goes off. But Pipes has been dead for a while now, so that must mean something else awful is happening.

Back during the trial, I guess because Optimus has a soft spot for Megatron, he allows him to join the Lost Light’s Knight Quest… even as he says that he could keep the guy locked up until Rodimus and pals find the Knights. However, there are rules to this, and one of the rules is that Megatron must publicly denounce the Decepticon cause.

It is a slow and painful experience for everyone involved, as he reads the statement he was given. It’s an immediate call to action- or rather, inaction.

Geez, think they could’ve made it any more obvious that this was being ghostwritten? I can’t wait to see how long it takes for “Megatron was blackmailed into saying this by the Autobots” to be a plotpoint.

Outside the prison, Ratchet and Rodimus are taking in the brand new Rod Pod, which is genuinely ridiculous in how large it is. Rodimus admits to having taken Atomizer’s list, though he knows that trying to use it to keep those who voted him off would be a pretty shitty thing to do.

Also, no one’s told him about Megatron coming along on the trip. As captain.

Or you could, I dunno, lock him up from the start. Or, if you want to give him a chance to prove himself, slap him into a bottom-rung role, like bilge cleaner, or sewage mucker, or whatever the equivalent would be on a spaceship full of giant gay robots. We don’t have to give the guy any power to hold him to scrutiny— any minimum wage worker will tell you that scrutiny comes far harsher for those who actually carry out orders than those who give them.

But what do I know? I’ve never fought in a several million year war, and I don’t plan to.

Getting back to the list, it seems as if Ratchet and Rodimus are on the same wavelength, in that both agree it’s only going to cause trouble and hurt feelings to keep the thing around. Rodimus destroys it with his usual flare, only to be blindsided by the fact that it was fake this entire time. How does Ratchet know this?

Because his name wasn’t on it.

...Man, that’s gotta sting. No wonder Rodimus was upset enough to not take his calls.

In the present, everyone’s in a panic, as they all bolt for the shuttle bay and start pouring into shuttles. The Lost Light is disintegrating around them, which is sort of a problem. Despite this nightmare scenario happening, Rodimus and Megatron still find the time to be assholes to each other. That’s dedication right there.

As the two bicker, multiple shuttles zip away from the rapidly disappearing ship, including the Rod Pod.

Man, now it really is the Lost Light.

[lynnsfics]

Coffee Stained Confusion

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

Bucky wasn’t exactly thrilled with his new mission assignment. His life was about to be turned into some buddy cop movie with Sam Wilson. However, he didn’t have much room to argue about it since he was the newest to the team and still wasn’t completely in Stark’s good graces. Apparently this new mission would help him “strengthen ties” with others, but Bucky knew that was just an excuse to pair him with someone who couldn’t stand him. On the bright side he’d be able to get out of the tower for a while.

He didn’t hate the tower, not really. The others were nice enough to him. Natasha understood what it was like to be a weapon in someone else’s hands, and Bruce was sympathetic enough too, but he still didn’t have a real connection with anyone except Steve. He missed being out in the real world, and this mission would give him a much-needed breath of fresh air. Unfortunately, the cons outweighed the pros.

This wasn’t just some run-of-the-mill mission. Some recent murders looked a bit too much like HYDRA’s work for them to be overlooked, so they decided to send the one most familiar with the organization. Bucky knew he had to be the one to go, but it still brought too many old memories to the surface. Memories he wanted to so desperately forget. It certainly didn’t help that he was partnered with the most insufferable of all the other Avengers.

“Hey Buck, are you about ready to go?” Steve’s voice shook Bucky out of his thoughts.

“Of course, but it’s Detective James Baker now, remember?” he said with a grin. After settling in at the tower he discovered his love for some of the newer shows, including Brooklyn 99 and decided to have some fun with going undercover like Jake Peralta did.

“Are you sure that won’t be too obvious, James?” Steve said with emphasis on his somewhat new name, only half joking. “It's so close to your real name."

"No one knows I've joined the Avengers, and if they do recognize me then we'll have a bigger issue than my blown cover." he responded with a laugh as he grabbed him bags.

~~~

The professor’s monotone voice droned on as you sat in your lecture. “Now who can tell me what the British did to try and convince America to join WWI? Y/N?” You answered without looking up from your screen, “They dumped oil drums filled with cut off baby hands into New York harbor, claiming they were from Belgian children killed by the Germans, but it was actually propaganda. The hands were from British children who died of the flu.” The professor looked at you for a moment before responding, “Very good, Miss Y/L/N.” You wished he had asked someone else, you were right in the middle of watching Jake propose to Amy on Brooklyn 99, and besides, if he was trying to prove you weren’t paying attention he should have used a harder question. Everyone learned about that in tenth grade, it wasn’t like it was uncommon knowledge.

The bell rang and you left the lecture hall, but not before the prof assigned a 3 page essay on the assassination of Franz Ferdinand. The autumn air had a slight, crisp chill to it as you walked to the campus coffee shop. The leaves were just starting to change color and the ones that had fallen made a satisfying crunch under your feet as you walked. You could hear students talking noisily and realized you had reached the little cafe. People sat outside in the little courtyard enjoying the weather. You waved to a few friends before stepping inside. After setting your things down at your usual table, you walk to the counter.

“Hey Y/N! What’ll you be having today?” the barista, Sasha, smiled at you.

“Oh, hi, uhh can I get a large iced latte with three extra shots of espresso?”

“No problem, but are you sure you want three? The drink already has four pumps of espresso in it to start with.” she explained.

“I have had the longest day, and it’s only 10 A.M.,” you laughed “besides I can’t cry over a failed test if I’m undergoing cardiac arrest.”

“Alright then, but when you can’t sit still in your next lecture don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

After paying for your drink you head back to your table, taking in a deep breath of air. When you needed an escape, this was always the best place to come. The warm, cozy environment was so calming, and you could actually get some work done since it wasn’t bustling and noisy like the courtyard outside. Your name was called and you got up to get your drink. You felt strangely calm for once. It dawned on that for the first time in ages you didn’t have any work that needed to be done immediately. You pulled out your notes and a highlighter and made some annotations in your notes. You put your earbuds in and lost yourself in the satisfying job of highlighting important facts to remember.

Before you realized how long you were sitting there for your alarm went off. “Shit!” you exclaimed. You tried to down the rest of your coffee while putting your things away but ended up spilling it all over yourself- and your notes. You groaned in frustration while grabbing your things and rushing off to your next class. The sad thing was, this always happened. No matter how careful you were, or how neat you tried to be, you always spilled something on your notes. Mainly coffee, but there was the occasional chocolate smears there too. What could you say, you had a sweet tooth. You speed walked across campus, hoping to make it to the lecture hall with a few minutes to spare. As you walked you saw two good looking guys rounding the bend on the sidewalk near you.

They didn’t look like students, and one was carrying a red binder stuffed with papers. Probably interviewers for potential interns, you thought with an eye roll. Or they could be working for CollegeBoard. Dear God, what if they saw the PSAT memes you made in tenth grade and were here to kick you out of college? You laughed at the thought but still glanced at the sidewalk as they drew closer, just in case.      

As they neared you, you could just make out snippets of their conversation. The one with the binder sounded irritable “I’m telling you Sam, I don’t think we’ll find him here-”

“Get out of the way!” someone yelled.

You just managed to jump to the side as a person on roller skates raced past. Unfortunately, you jumped directly into the path of the two men, dropping all your notes and causing the one holding the binder to drop his as he caught you. “Hey, careful there, you wouldn’t want to get hurt.” he said with an easy smile. Huh, you hadn’t noticed how toned he was until now.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” your cheeks flushed as you regained your balance, “I’m sorry about your notes-”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” his friend said kindly as he collected their papers, “people here are always rushing around without looking where they’re going.”

You knelt down to pick up your notes quickly and said “Thanks, speaking of rushing I have class but uh have a good day…” and rushed off. Unfortunately you didn't have time to check if the coffee stained papers you grabbed were your own, and maybe you should have.

[theendlesssummerstory]

Endless Summer, Chapter 3/44 - Small talk is for small minds

That night, I was haunted by that dream again.

“Stay down! It’s coming this way!” warned Sean.

“Taylor! Give me your hand!” said Jake.

“You don’t understand yet… do you?” taunted Everett Rourke. “Of course not. But you will… in time.”

But this time, there was something else. At the end of the dream, I was being stalked by a predator. I turned around, but before I could see who, or what, was following me, I woke up, sweating.

Feeling hungry, and it being eight o’clock already, I made my way to the restaurant to have breakfast.

When I entered the restaurant, I saw that Grace, Aleister and Zahra were sat together at one table, Sean and Craig at another, and Michelle and Quinn at another. Jake and Raj sat at the bar, close to the other students. All of them were talking to each other.

Estela sat on her own, a fair distance away from everyone else, but still watching (and listening to) them. Lila and Diego hadn’t arrived yet.

They were all having breakfast, in the form of a buffet cooked by Raj, which included bacon, scrambled eggs, toast and a mixture he called the ‘Raj Hangover Special 9000’.

The conversations died out as soon as everyone noticed I was there. They turned to face me.

“Hey!” said Jake, smiling. “If it isn’t the boy scout who cried monster.”

“Yeah, Taylor, you shot down the party faster than the cops back home.” Raj complained.

“That’s what you care about?” Estela asked him, furiously. “Don’t you realise that if there were a predator, Taylor could’ve gotten hurt? Or killed?”

I was about to apologise to everyone for lowering the mood last night, when I realised something... Estela was right! My life was far more important than their party. And I was going to defend myself.

“Estela’s right. If you want an apology for last night, that’s not gonna happen.” I told everyone, Jake and Raj especially. “I’m not going to pretend everything’s okay. Regardless of whether I saw something last night or not, there is something going on in this island, and we need to find out exactly what that is.”

“I was only tryna lighten the mood...” said Raj, despondently. Everyone gave me annoyed looks, but Estela looked at me, impressed... with admiration.

I grabbed some breakfast, and sat at the table with Grace, Aleister and Zahra. I would’ve sat with Diego, however, had he been here.

“I found something really interesting at the beach this morning.” Grace told us.

“Already, nerdette, you have 60 seconds ‘till I die of boredom. What did you find?” Zahra asked her.

“Well, I was walking on the beach this morning, and found some sea shells that I’ve never seen before.” she explained. “I even went back to my room to look them up in my marine biology textbook, but... nothing. I couldn’t find anything close to them-”

“Hold up.” Zahra interupted her. “You brought your textbooks on holiday?”

“Um, yes?”

“Congrats.” said Zahra, sarcastically. “You’re officially the dorkiest person I’ve ever met.”

Aleister exhaled deeply.

“What a sad world we live in.” he lemented. “Seeking to be informed is deemed ‘dorky’ by today’s youth. I, for one, find Grace bringing her textbooks commendable.”

“You do?” Grace smiled at him, which caused Aleister to blush.

“Well, I... I do. O-of course.” replied Aleister, flustered.

“I agree. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with bringing your textbooks on holiday.” I spoke to reduce the resulting awkwardness for Aleister.

It was then that Lila and Diego entered the restaurant, looking somewhat triumphant. Diego sat down next to me, and Lila stood at the front to address us.

“Good morning, everyone!” Lila greeted us. “I hope you’re enjoying breakfast in our 5-star restaurant! Diego and I were searching the reception area, and we think we’ve figured out what happened to the hotel guests!”

She paused for a few seconds, and looked at us expectandly, as if expecting us to answer, or clap... or maybe she was just creating tension.

“Spit it out then, dimples.” said Jake, impatiently.

“Well, on the evening the day before yesterday, someone triggered the emergency evacuation procedure!” she told us. “It’s a custom feature in Rourke International Hotels to protect our guests from natural disasters!”

I looked out the restaurant window and saw a volcano at the far end of the island.

“When you say natural disaster, do you mean a volcanic eruption?” I asked Lila, which sparked an outburst of energy from her.

“Yes! Precisely!” she beamed. “If Mount Atropo were to erupt, all our hotel guests would be burnt to ashes!”

“Why do you sound happy about that?” asked a stunned Zahra. I found it slightly funny that Lila’s over-cheeriness was having the same effect on Zahra as Zahra’s gloominess had on Lila.

“Look, I know nothing about geology, or science in general.” Jake confessed. “But I’m pretty sure there wasn’t an eruption two days ago.”

"We have a designated shelter on the island, for our hotel guests, in case something like that happens.” Lila explained.

“Then the hotel guests may still be there.” Estela uncharacteristically spoke up. “This shelter... where is it, Lila?”

“I don’t know.” Lila confessed. “But the signs on the trail say we’ll find it if we hike east for five kilometres!”

“I’m going to find it.” Jake decided. “There’s a good chance Carlos will be at the shelter, and while you lot may be having fun playing Home Alone 2: Island Boogaloo, I’m losing money every day I’m stuck here. Are you joining me, boy scout?”

I hesitated, weighing up my curiosity versus my experience last night with the predator. Realising my uncertainty, Jake spoke up.

“You don’t have to come, if you’re still shaken. Stay here and-”

“I’m coming.” I interrupted him, quickly, before he could say something that would change my mind.

“Really? Why?” Diego asked me.

“I want to find out what’s going on.” I replied. “I mean, aren’t you a little curious as to why the hotel guests went to the shelter, when the volcano clearly didn’t erupt?”

“Well, yes, I’m curious.” Diego admitted. “But I’ve also, you know, seen a horror movie.”

He tried to put on a sarcastic voice, but it didn’t work nearly as well on him as it did on Jake or Zahra.

“Hey, guys! Let’s go to this creepy shelter on an abandoned island! What could possibly go wrong?”

“But I’m going with you, Taylor. So if anything goes wrong, I can say that I told you so.”

“I’m going too.” Aleister announced. “I’d like to get the lay of the land around here.”

“Me too!” Quinn joined in. “There are waterfalls on the island, which sound perfect to me right about now.”

Twenty minutes later, after finishing breakfast, Lila, Jake, Diego, Aleister, Quinn and I were hiking to the shelter. We passed some odd flowers, ones that glowed, probably what Grace was referring to when she said that the island had rare flora.

Lila, who saw me observing the flowers, couldn’t help but fall into one of her tour guide speeches.

“Due to its geographical isolation, La Huerta has one of the most unique ecoystems in the world, with flora and fauna not found anywhere else in the whole world!”

Jake couldn’t help but smile. “Sure thing, Minnie Mouse. Recite Rourke International propaganda all you want. I ain’t buying any of it.”

“What do you mean by that?” asked Aleister.

“I mean that all the leaflets for La Huerta advertise it as a Disney Paradise.” Jake replied. “But if you drink in the right bars in Costa Rica, you’ll hear all sorts of rumours about what really goes on here. Employees going missing, illegal experiements, etc.”

“That is preposterous.” snapped Aleister.

“I’m not going to let some conspiracy theories stop me from enjoying the beauty of nature.” said Quinn, plucking a particularly radiant purple flower and holding it to her nose, inhaling deeply.

I, however, inexplicably found myself beliving Jake. I stepped away from the flowers.

“I’m not sure what to believe, but better safe than sorry.” I told the others. “Unique ecosystem or not, flowers should not glow like that.”

“I knew I could count on you, boy scout.” said Jake, before turning to face Quinn. “As for you, Pippi Longstocking... don’t blame me when you grow two noses.”

We walked on, and I found myself walking next to Aleister. Despite his antisocial and offputting personality, I decided to try and make small talk with him.

“Hey, Aleister, have you seen any good TV shows recently?” I asked him.

“Does it look like I’ve been accepted for a Master’s degree in law because I spend my days watching reality TV about overly-tanned simpletons?” he snapped back.

“I’m just trying to make small talk.” I told him.

“Small talk is for small minds, Taylor. And I don’t associate myself with either of them.” Aleister told me.

I turned away, thinking that was the end of the conversation, but Aleister went on.

“My father never believed I had what it takes to get a PhD.” Aleister continued. “Despite my flashes of academic brilliance, including, but not limited to, Level 6s in my SATs, 10 A*s at GCSE and 3 A*s at A Levels. So that’s why I only tolerate intelligence, Taylor - because after my Master’s, I’m going to get my PhD, and prove that bastard wrong.”

“You’re an intelligent young man, Aleister.” I complimented him. “If anyone can get a PhD, it’s you.”

Aleister just blinked. “I know.”

We reached the shelter about an hour later. Lila pushed open the doors, revealing it to be as abandoned as The Celestial.

The left wall had mostly crumbled away, revealing a large hole. I cautiously approached it... and involuntarily screamed when something jumped out of it!

That something was a blue fox, who, panicked, ran to the far corner of the shelter. Frost formed on the wall behind him.

“He-hello?” I asked the fox, stunned and not sure what to say or do.

“Can we agree that’s not a real animal?” asked Jake.

“What... is it?” asked a confused Aleister.

“Um, literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” replied Quinn, beaming.

“But what is he scared of?” asked Diego.

I didn’t have much time to make sense of the situation, because when I looked back into the hole, some eyes had suddenly appeared - the same predator that I saw last night!

The predator, which turned out to be a tiger, leaped out and started to approach the fox!

“That!” replied Aleister. “It’s scared of that!”

“You think?” Lila asked him, sarcastically.

“Maverick, what do we do?” I asked Jake, figuring that he was the one here most able to deal with the situation.

But for the first time, I saw him scared.

“Don’t... move.” he managed.

[foolgobi65]

we can be heroes if we just close our eyes (head first, can’t lose)

k so this is chapter one of an unfinished fic i started writing 2 summers ago i’ve got like ... maybe 5/12 chapters written? its been hanging out on my shitty drive for too long so i figured id find out what you guys think!! its .... a ...... b99/avengers/megamind/amnesia fic. i know it makes no sense but it has a plot i promise. 

plEASE reblog im desperate for attention and validation and i have no shame whatsoever thanks love u all <3 <3 

“Jake’s gone and robbed another bank,” Black Widow says, filing her nails. She tosses a glance at Amy, filing away the last of her paperwork and pauses. “.....you could go stop that, if you’re in the mood, Cap.”

Captain America rolls her eyes and signs the last form. “Make sure that Holt gets this, alright?” Amy wonders whether she should put on her uniform, before deciding to just grab her shield. It’s not as if Peralta’s expecting anyone else.

“Excuse you, but I am a highly ranked Agent of this fine, international organization,” Gina says, “I’m like, second in command of all this shit. Go find a real secretary to do your dirty work.”

“You’re playing Kwazy Kupcakes,” Amy observes. Gina raises an eyebrow without looking away from her phone.

“And I snapped three necks between my thighs before 9 a.m,” Gina drawls. “I’m magical, bitch. Get on my level.”

Amy sighs, rolling her shoulders a little. “Just...make sure Holt sees the report, okay?”

“Jake’s probably robbed two banks in the time it took for us to have this little chat, but whatever.” Gina waves the fingers of her free hand vaguely in Amy’s direction. “We’re having a bit of a morale issue so don’t do any property damage, use two types of birth control, you know the drill.”

Amy does, in fact, know the drill. She strides into the elevator and checks the instructions that Gina’s managed to send her on the way down. It’s a screenshot of a series of text messages Peralta sent Gina about ten minutes ago, if the timestamp is correct. She reaches the ground floor, nods at a passing Agent and heads out to the parking lot still scrolling through the images.

stealin sme shit from the bank on prk ave

tell america 2 wear her civvies

her leather jacket is A+

she shud wer more leather less pantsuits

k the alarms r off c ya l8r sk8r

Amy looks down at her gabardine pantsuit and realizes two things simultaneously. 1) She needs to change out of her chunky heels, and 2) She’s going to have to wear her leather jacket, and Peralta will never let it go.

One change of shoes and jacket later, she’s on the road, cruising through traffic on her motorcycle. A child notices her shield strapped to her back and yells out excitedly, a young couple whistles three times before Amy is too far out of range to hear. Grandparents walking on the sidewalk salute, and Captain America Santiago switches between waving and a gentle smile, befitting her status as national icon.

Sometimes, she kind of loves her job. And then other times, she has to go fight Iron Dude in the streets of Manhattan.

“Ayyyy America!” Peralta shouts when she arrives. He’s currently occupied with throwing handfuls of what look to be hundred dollar bills from a giant bag he’s carrying in his left hand, repulsors keeping him airborne as he makes it rain money on the good denizens of New York. “Come to collect some extra cash? They can’t be paying you very well at SHIELD.”

Amy rolls her eyes, taking her gun out of its holster and shooting at the bag. Peralta moves slightly and they both watch as the bullet misses its target by inches.

“Were you even trying?” he asks laughing. Peralta throws another handful of bills into the air. Amy shrugs, grabbing some cash off the ground. Definitely hundreds, then. She readies her gun and fires again, this time repeatedly, anticipating any way he might move and meeting him with a bullet.

One of the bullets grazes Iron Dude’s hand, another three puncture the bag in quick succession. It drops on the pavement, and Amy smiles. Peralta groans, sound only slightly incongruous when filtered through the voice modulator of the Iron Dude suit.

“You’re the worst, America. All I wanted to do was even out the distribution a little, fight the power, you know?” Amy rolls her eyes.

“Then write a letter to your Congressman, Peralta. And stop calling me that.” He comes back to Earth, and steps forward.

“Stop calling you what, America? It’s your name, isn’t it? Tell me, did your parents know they were visionaries, or did they just assume they were when they named you. I mean what a coup for the propaganda: Captain America’s legal name literally being America Santiago.”

“Like I told you the last like fifty times you’ve asked me that, no my parents are not prophets, or fortune tellers nor are they actual fortune cookies you can purchase from Panda Express for three dollars,” Amy says with only a little hint of exasperation creeping into her voice. She forces down a distressing urge to place her hands on her hips. “And only my friends can call me by my first name.”

Iron Dude gasps, placing his hands over his heart. “I thought we had something, oh Captain my Captain! Was it all.....a lie? Say it ain’t so Cap-i-tan!”

Amy rolls her eyes. “I’m surprised you’ve even read Walt Whitman.”

Peralta cocks his head. “Who? I was quoting that Robin Williams movie, you know the one with the kids who stand up on their desks?”

She blinks. “The Dead Poets Society?” Peralta nods. “Yeah, that one! My eighth grade English teacher showed it to us ‘cause she wanted to like, inspire everyone to read poetry and crap but we all kind of just spun in circles and jumped up on our desks.” He strokes the chin of his helmet. “I think she got fired after the principal caught us playing leapfrog on the tables.”

Amy thinks she can be forgiven for throwing her shield. She takes a perverse pleasure in watching the way it makes stupid Peralta stumble backwards, and the hollow sound his Iron Ass makes when it touches the ground. She catches the shield when it boomerangs back and cocks her head.

“Jake Peralta,” she begins. “You have the right to remain silent, everything you say can and will be used against you in a court of--”

He rises, brushing himself off. Amy debates the merits of actually engaging in a fight, looking around for a moment as she performs a cost-benefit analysis in her head. Pros: she gets to bash in his stupid looking suit. Cons: they always manage to take down a building or two, and then Amy has to clean up the rubble while the Times takes a bunch of candids for the print edition and Snapchats the rest.

Their Snapchat following has shot up through the roof, mainly because Amy reached a deal where she’d give a quick interview while she worked if the photographers made sure not to publish the dorkiest looking pictures they take of her. She knows what she looks like in battle, and the way she grits her teeth is definitely not something she wants to see on the front page of her Sunday Edition.

Amy checks to make sure Peralta doesn’t have anything but his suit on him, and throws her shield one more time. She smirks at the satisfying bang, and hope it really hurts when he starts flying again, waving as he jets over her head.

“This was fun and all,” he says, “but I’ve really got a prior engagement. Byeeeeeee”

Amy barely resists showing her middle finger, but most of her impulse control right now is coming from the small child she can see staring across the street. She notices people staring, most likely curious at why she let a criminal fly off into the sunset.

“Money’s a little tight in Albany,” she says to the crowd. “No one really wants to pay for another fallen building...and he left the money, right?”

Everyone laughs, nodding their head at her explanation. Amy starts picking up the cash on the ground, and wonders if she should have made better life choices. Ones that wouldn’t end up with her using a very expensive vibranium shield to hold hundred dollar bills she’s picking up off the road.

“Captain America! Oh my god, Mom, it's Captain America!” Amy turns to see the little girl jumping up and down across the road. “She’s the coolest, oh my god do you think she’ll sign something for me?”

Amy smiles faintly and turns to face her adoring fan, crossing the street to give her a hug and an autograph. Maybe a little clean up isn’t the worst thing in the world after all.

She looks back at the road, notices the milling bank executives and groans.

Fucking Peralta.

[bibhabmishra]

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off The Impact of Social Class

The eighties, goes the general thinking, was the decade of venality. No one in America—heck, in the WORLD—had been interested in making money before the 1980s came along and corrupted us all. It was, apparently, the era in which everyone walked around in gold lamé and regarded Ivana Trump as the last word in understated chic. Seriously, you couldn’t take the dog for a walk in the eighties without tripping over a giant Versace gold logo. And a pair of giant shoulder pads. And a massive pile of cocaine. And cocaine plays absolute HAVOC with one’s Armani stilettos. Maybe it was—far be it from me to cast aspersions on lazy descriptions of an era—but a little-remarked-upon truth is that this is not, in fact, the mentality depicted in many mainstream eighties movies. Many Hollywood movies ar- gued for, if not actual class warfare, then certainly a suspicion of wealth. Re- peatedly, wealthy people are depicted as disgusting, shallow, and even mur- derous, while working-class people are noble and good-intentioned, such as in not exactly niche films like Wall Street,I Beverly Hills Cop, Ruthless People, Rais- ing Arizona, and Overboard.

Contrast this with today’s films like Iron Man, in which the billionaire is the superhero (and is inspired by actual billionaire Elon Musk), and the deeply, deeply weird The Dark Knight Rises, in which the villain advocates the redistribution of wealth—HE MUST BE DESTROYED. But the eighties films that were the most interested in issues of class were, of all things, the teen films. The motivating force of almost every single classic eighties teen film was not, in fact, selling soundtracks, watching an eighteen-year-old Tom Cruise try to get laid, or seeing what ridiculous hairdo Nicolas Cage would sport this time round. It was social class. There’s The Karate Kid, in which the son of a single mother unsuccessfully tries to hide his poverty from the cool kids at school who make fun of his mother’s car; Dirty Dancing, in which a middle- class girl dates a working-class boy, much to her liberal father’s horror; Can’t Buy Me Love, in which a school nerd gains popularity by paying for it; Valley Girl, in which an upper-middle-class girl dates a working-class boy; Say Anything, in which a privileged girl dates a lower-middle-class army brat and her father turns out to be a financial criminal; The Flamingo Kid, in which a working-class kid is dazzled by a wealthy country club and starts to break away from his blue-collar father; and all John Hughes’s teen films. Of course, issues of class can be found in the undercurrents of pretty much any American movie, from The Philadelphia Story to The Godfather. The differ- ence with eighties teen films is that they were completely overt in their treat- ment of it: class is the major motivator of plot, even if it’s easy to miss next to the pop songs and Eric Stoltz’s smile. All these films stress emphatically that the money your family has determines everything, from who your friends are, to who you date, your social standing in school, your parents’ happiness and aspirations, and your future. They, to varying degrees, rage against the failure of the American Dream. They stress that true class mobility is pretty much impossible, and certainly interclass friendships and romances are unlikely, for the simple reason that rich people are assholes and lower-middle-class and working-class people are good. Which was unfortunate because according to the vast majority of eighties teen movies, the only way a teenager could truly move up out of their socioeconomic group was if they dated someone wealth- ier than them, Cinderella-style. The one exception to this rule is Back to the Future, which definitely does

not rage against the American system; instead, it concludes that, yes, money does buy happiness and that’s just great. When Marty returns from 1955 to 1985, he realizes that he has inadvertently changed history so that now his par- ents, formerly poor and therefore miserable and barely on speaking terms, are now rich and therefore happy and cheerfully smack each other’s backsides: “I remember how upset Crispin [Glover, who played George McFly] and Eric [Stoltz, who was originally cast as Marty] were about the ending of Back to the Future: now that they have money they’re happy,” recalls Lea Thompson, who played Lorraine Baines McFly. “They thought it was really outrageous. It went right over my head, of course. Maybe because I was poor and when I got wealthy I was happy!” This is indeed a subject that still riles Glover enor- mously. For decades he has spoken out against what he describes as “corpo- rate movies”—that is, studio movies—that peddle “propaganda” and he is cur- rently writing a book on the subject addressing, he says, “the Back to the Future issue in great detail.” “The main idea was that the family was in love and I felt that if there was any indication that money equals happiness, that was a bad message to put out,” he says, the exasperation still palpable in his voice thirty years on. “I was not given the screenplay before we shot the film because Universal and Spielberg were at the time making it apparent that they needed to keep their movie under wraps. Which I understand but as an actor you have to investigate the psy- chology of the character, and you can’t do that until you’ve read it. Now I would be very insistent [about reading a script before committing to a film], but I was twenty years old at the time and it was a Universal movie; of course I was glad to be in it. So I wasn’t given the opportunity to read it before I was hired and so it was fair for me to be asking these questions but they did not think it was fair. When you raise questions people say ‘You’re crazy, you’re weird,’ because you’re questioning the authority that people have been brought up to think is the only correct way to think, when there are many correct ways to think.” Ultimately, Glover says, he was so disgusted with the message of Back to the Future he refused to be in the sequel.II, III “The point [of making the McFly family wealthy] was that self-confidence and the ability to stand up for yourself are qualities that lead to success,” says Bob Gale, cowriter of Back to the Future. “So we showed George and Lorraine had an improved standard of living, we showed them loving toward each other, and we showed that George was a successful author. It was the way to show the audience that George had indeed become a better man. And, of course, in the beginning, we depicted George as a loser, Lorraine as a drunk, with a ter- rible car and a house full of mismatched and worn-out furnishings.” Back to the Future is such a charming film that it’s easy to be swept along by it and not notice this equation of lower-middle-class status with being a “loser.” But it does echo precisely the same message that other eighties teen films sent: the class you are born into dictates every aspect of your life. “Class has always been the central story in America, not race—class,” says Eleanor Bergstein, the writer and producer of Dirty Dancing. “And when you’re a teenager you really start to notice this.” And there was no teen filmmaker who felt this as deeply as Hughes. David Thomson complains in his majestic Biographical Dictionary of Film that in Hughes’s teen films “the fidelity of observation, the wit and the tender- ness for kids never quite transcend the general air of problem solving and putting on a piously cheerful face. No one has yet dared in America to portray the boredom or hopelessness of many teenage lives—think of Mike Leigh’s pictures to see what could be done.” The first thing to say is that to complain that John Hughes isn’t enough like Mike Leigh is like getting annoyed that a chocolate cookie is not trying hard enough if it’s not a roast chicken. But it isn’t fair to dismiss Hughes’s movies as devoid of “hopelessness” since his repeated depiction of class issues in his films definitely shows the “hopelessness” in these American teenagers’ lives. Pretty in Pink (lower- middle-class girl falls for wealthy boy) and Some Kind of Wonderful (lower- middle-class boy falls for lower-middle-class girl who has gained acceptance among the rich kids through her looks) are the most obvious examples of Hughes’s teen films that were obsessed with class injustice and how difficult it is for kids from different classes to connect (Hughes, despite his inherently romantic nature, apparently thought they couldn’t, really). But it’s there in all his teen films, including Sixteen Candles (Jake’s house is notably bigger and flashier than Samantha’s) and The Breakfast Club (Bender’s somewhat implau- sible-sound-ing home lifeIV is compared to pampered Claire’s world, in which she can give out diamond earrings on a whim). But the film that really empha- sizes how unfair he thought the system is is Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. There are many reasons to love Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, and I’ve gone through all of them. As I said in the introduction, this was the first what I called REAL MOVIE (that is, neither animated nor a musical) I was allowed to see and it instantly became my first love and Ferris my first crush. It represented every- thing to me, everything I wasn’t and didn’t have and wanted: teenagehood, freedom, coolness, sexiness. Every day after school, for a whole year, I would come home, go straight to the TV room, carefully close the door to keep out my dorky parents and Jeanie-ish younger sister, and watch Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Every. Single. Day. I carefully transcribed the script into my diary, which I still have, and at some point I decided my sister was sufficiently acceptable to allow her to reenact scenes from the movie with me, using my transcribed script. That summer, I taught my sister about making out, using the scene in which Ferris makes out with Sloane in the museum as a guide, and the two of us would duly writhe around on the living room, making out with our imag- inary boyfriends (Ferris for me, Marty McFly for her), while our parents, watch- ing from the doorway, wondered what new game their innocent little nine- and seven-year-old daughters had invented. This is perhaps the only time in my sister’s and my lives that our parents underestimated us. As a kid, I loved the film and Ferris because I thought Ferris was so cool— he was cute, he was funny, and, most thrillingly of all, he could drive a car. I fantasized about him driving me to school, holding my hand all the way. (Yes, that was my sexual fantasy. Like I said, I had a pretty sheltered childhood.) When I finally, and contrary to all my expectations, became a teenager and realized driving a car wasn’t quite as rare a skill as I’d believed as a nine- year-old, I decided that the real reason to love this film was that it was so weird. Like all of Hughes’s teen films, it has a simple premise (boy skips school and brings his best friend, Cameron, and girlfriend, Sloane, along for the ride) and takes place over a tiny period of time (like The Breakfast Club, Fer- ris Bueller’s Day Off doesn’t even cover twenty-four hours). But it is a much stranger beast than anything else Hughes ever wrote. While all Hughes’s other teen films deal with the emotional minutiae of being a teenager, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off doesn’t make even the slightest pretense to realism. The characters are all surreal exaggerations of recognizable characters—the teenager, Ferris, is just that little bit too cocky, the principal, Ed Rooney (Jeffrey Jones), is defi- nitely too demented—and the situations it depicts are, quite clearly, impos- sible.

[kpopfanficsforthesoul]

Spring Day- Jin (BTS)

Prompt: Long winter nights are already tedious and difficult to endure on their own. However, surviving them alone is even harder.

Genre: Resolved Angst, Song Based

Pairing: Jin x Reader

Author’s Note: This scenario is based off of the song “Spring Day” by BTS. 

I miss you When I say that, I miss you more I’m looking at your photo But I still miss you Time is so cruel, I hate us Now it’s hard to even see each other’s faces

Jin awoke in the same familiar state of mind that he had become accustomed to for so long. The feeling of emptiness as he apathetically threw the sheets off of his body and got out of bed. Like a machine, he put information in, and then carried it out. 

He’d go about his day, doing his work and completing every trivial task of adult life which was presented to him. However, none of it was done with a single ounce of passion. It was as if the happy light inside of him had been shut off for eternity. 

The first few weeks were easy. You two agreed to speak to each other every night, even if only for a short amount of time. Your voice floating through he other end of the phone was like a thick and sweet honey to him, making him smile and forget how much he missed you as he lie in bed after a trying day.

Three months was a long time to go without seeing you, and only recently had his need for you become extreme. He knew going into this that it would be extremely difficult. However, he knew that any distance was easier to endure than never seeing you again. How could he help loving you. You were the perfect girl. 

Now, to see your shining eyes looking into his would be better than the sparkle of any snowflake falling on his head as he walked down the city street with a glare at the pavement. The warmth of your embrace would be more comforting than any flame emitted from a crackling fire place in this harsh winter. The sight of your face right in front of him would be be better than any of the pictures he had been staring at...

Long distance relationships really sucked. 

It’s only winter here Even in August, winter is here My heart makes time run Like a Snowpiercer left alone I wanna hold your hand And go to the other side of the earth To end this winter How much longing has to fall like snow For the spring days to come?

You swallowed hard as you hung up on another phone call with Seokjin. You sighed as you threw yourself against your bed, staring at the ceiling and wondering why things had to be this way. 

You glanced out the window at the snow falling on the ground and onto the grass of your campus grounds. You glanced up the gray and merciless sky, hoping to God that someday this winter would end in more ways than one. 

If only you could see Seokjin’s smile just for one second. For a split second, everything would be right in your world.Even if just for a tiny moment, you could be completely and incandescently happy. For one mere second, this winter would be a warm and plentiful spring day. 

Perhaps it was not possible anymore. It had been too long since you had been next to him. You began to be desperate of everything about him. You wanted nothing more than to be done with school and be with him permanently. 

And as you wiped a falling tear off of your cheek, you wondered if this was even what you really wanted. Would having your degree really make you happy if it meant you couldn’t see him for three more months? You tried to push it back down into the dark corners of your mind and forget about it, but you couldn’t help but wonder... would going on with this really make you happy?

You sat up in your bed as the realization hit you. All the times your mother told you that being a doctor and making thousands of dollars a year... those images couldn’t possibly replace your memories of walking down the city streets with Jin as he held you close, laughing about something one of the boys said at the party the night before. The wide fields and fresh air of the countryside couldn’t ever fill your lungs better than the scent of his cologne mixing with the breakfast he was cooking your in the mornings. The lab coats and the chemicals couldn’t comfort or warm you as much as his embrace after a long day. 

You quickly ran to your closet and yanked your suitcase out of the crowded corner. You ran around the room shoving everything you could imagine into it. You gave a second glance around the room as you buttoned up your coat, telling yourself your roommate could probably benefit from all the other items you left behind. You slipped on your shoes, grabbed your suitcase, and ran outside into the cold air, hopping into your car as fast as you could. 

It didn’t matter to you how long you had to wait. How much you’d have to pay for a flight to South Korea. It was no longer a concern to you whether or not you had planned ahead. All you wanted was a spring day in this cold winter. And you knew there was only one place you could get it. 

Snowflakes are falling Getting farther away I miss you, I miss you  How much more do I have to wait? How many more nights do I have to stay up? Until I can see you?  Until I can meet you? 

Past the end of this cold winter Until the spring comes again Until the flowers bloom again Stay there a little longer Stay there

He stared solemnly into his cup of coffee as snow fell behind the window of his apartment. The thought of you kept poisoning his mind, no matter how hard he tried. He knew it wasn’t healthy. He knew that some day, he would see you again, and all he had to do was be strong and wait it out. 

But all of his mental reassurances couldn’t numb the pain of waking up without you by his side. Not there when he accidentally cut himself while cooking. Not there when he was watching a funny scene in a movie and laughing with him. Not there to visit him at practice, or assure him of his talents. It all felt meaningless without you. 

Suddenly, the opening of a front door was heard. Jin perked his head up and ran to the living room, desperately searching for who it could be. His face dropped as he realized that it was his friend Namjoon. He didn’t want to admit it, but everytime someone came to the door, he foolishly hoped it would be you. That by some indescribable miracle you had been able to leave everything behind to see him. And stay with him. Forever. 

“Hey Namjoon...” Jin mumbled, shuffling back over to the kitchen table where he went back to staring into his mug of black coffee, not bothering to take a sip of it. 

“Hey man...” Namjoon responded, furrowing his brows as he walked into his friend’s kitchen. He stood in front of him, attempting to look him in the eyes, if it were not for Jin’s eyes being locked upon the dark liquid inside his cup. “I just came to check on you... you’ve been completely out of it at practice lately.”

“I’m fine,” was the only response Seokjin gave. He glanced up to his friend with grave eyes, but only for a split second before returning his attention back to the plain and hard surface of his wooden table. 

“Hyung, I think I know what this is about...” Namjoon began, taking the seat across from him. “How have things been going with you and Y/N?”

Jin couldn’t help but flinch as Namjoon said your name. It was as if a bullet had been shot right at his heart. He didn’t want his friends to think of him as pitiful, but he couldn’t help but let small tears develop in his eyes. 

“It’s okay, you can tell me anything... I’ll always listen.” Namjoon told him in a reassuring way. Jin looked up into his friend’s dark and trustworthy eyes. 

“Namjoon... is she really coming back?” Jin asked, feeling the hard lump develop in his throat. 

“What?” Namjoon asked, leaning in closer. “Why would you even think she wouldn’t?”

“It’s been so long without seeing her...” Jin said with a cold chuckle. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s even real... that maybe she’s just a ghost, and I’m only hallucinating my conversations with her.”

“Hyung...” Namjoon responded, feeling his heart break at Jin’s poignant words. He had never seen him this torn up over something. “It’ll be okay... you’ll see her in a few months, and one day it will all be over.”

“Don’t you understand?” Jin began, no longer caring if Namjoon noticed the tear rolling down his face. “It would never be worth it! Both of us have commitments we’re not willing to give up. I’ve too big a career to simply give everything up and move to a different country... and she’s so set on getting her degree that she’d never go to place where she can’t use it to the fullest... it’s never going to work for us...”

“Don’t say that...” Namjoon told his friend wholeheartedly. “You have to keep faith... you have to be positive and wait it out, or it really will never work.”

“I know, I know...” Jin began, sinking his hands into his thick brown locks. “It’s so cumbersome to keep telling myself that maybe someday, or by some miraculous deed, she’ll be here at some point in time. I’m tired of being positive when I’m not given any reassurance... I want her here with me now, not months from now...”

You know it all You’re my best friend The morning will come again Because no darkness, No season Can last forever

You gripped the edge of your top as you tapped your feet nervously. You glanced at the window, feeling yourself get closer and closer the the clouds. Once you saw the bright blue sky and the shining sun, you were sure that the dark winter below would never hurt you again.

You gave a small smile as you thought about the look on Seokjin’s face when he saw you. In a few short hours, just a few short hours, you would be seeing him. After six long months of separation, you’d finally feel him in your arms again.

You threw your head back against the seat and thought about what you were doing. Maybe you were giving up the shot of a good career. But it was never what you really wanted. Your parents were the ones telling you to go to school for a Ph.D. All of their propaganda had poisoned you into believing medicine was your true passion. But inside... you knew it never was. 

You had never liked the stress of medical school... you didn’t like how competitive the schools were, nor did you like the long hours of dedications spent in labs... you didn’t even like hospitals, for crying out loud. It was never for you. 

But Jin was made especially for you.

Cherry blossoms are blooming The winter is ending I miss you, I miss you  If I wait a little longer  If I stay up a few more nights I’ll go see you  I’ll go pick you up 

Jin sat in his dark living room, staring at the TV, even though he wasn’t paying attention to the dialogue at all. He simply looked upon the flashing lights as his thoughts overclouded his senses.

Suddenly, his negativity was interrupted as a knock on the door was heard. He groaned as he got up from his couch. Namjoon was being pretty persistent in his visits lately.

“For the last time Namjoon, I’m fine...” he mumbled, as he opened the door. He glanced up, expecting to see the purple hair and thick lips of his friend. However, the image of the person before him almost made him faint.

His heart stopped, causing his eyes to widen. He couldn’t bring himself to words. And suddenly, as you flashed a smile at him, all the cold winter air blowing in his face felt like a warm glow of sunlight. 

“Well fine then, if it’s such an inconvenience.” you joked, giggling at his reaction. 

Jin slowly brought his hand forward, swiping the air in front of you. You giggled as he tapped your nose, still with the same wide eyes and blank stare. 

“Is this a dream?” he quaked, eyes growing moist. “Are you really here in front of me right now? Tell me this isn’t some cruel, sick dream...”

“I’m quite real...” you smiled, looking into those familiar dark eyes that you had missed for so long with such adoration. 

He paused for a second, eyes glancing over your features. As a smile formed on his face, stretching from ear to ear, you felt a sense of comfort. Like all the trials you had endured these past six months had suddenly been erased. The smile that you had craved to see was finally in front of you at last. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms around you at once. You did the same, holding him as close and as tight as you possibly could. You buried your head into the warmth of his shoulder. At long last, you were back in his warm arms.

“You don’t know how much pain I’ve been in without you...” Jin began, not caring that his voice was cracking as the tears began to pour down his face. “It felt as if nothing mattered anymore... but now you’re here...”

“Even better...” you told him, smiling through the small tears that trickled down your cheeks. “I’m here to stay.”

He jerked backward, arms still around you. He stared at you with a piercing and hopeful gaze. “You mean... you’re not leaving again? But, I thought...”

“A piece of paper saying I suffered through eight years of coffee fueled exams could never be better than being with you.” you told him, wiping the droplets of water around your jaw away. 

Jin smiled wider than you had ever seen him smile before... this time with such a golden glow that all the snow around you seemed to melt into tall and prosperous cherry blossom trees... the bare and dying plants in the ground seemed the bloom into healthy flowers as the sun seemed to finally bring its bright glow to your world again.

Jin threw his arms around you in desperation to hold you again. “This has made me more happy than I’ve ever been before, and likely will ever be...” you could hear him smiling as he spoke these words, even through the tears you knew he was letting fall on the shoulder of your coat. 

“I promise that I’ll show you every single day that you made the right decision... and together, every day will be a spring day, even in the darkest and coldest of winters.”

Past the end of this cold winter Until the spring comes again Until the flowers bloom again Stay there a little longer Stay there.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoyed this scenario! I wrote it on a whim because I was listening to this song (since it’s like my favorite Bangtan song) and it really inspired me to write something based on the lyrics. Thanks for reading!

[Masterlist]

-Marie