Jong-woo: I'll Kill You! Moon-jo: Is He Flirting With Me? 😏

*SIGNAL BOOST PLEASE*

I am looking for an Andrea Duncan and a Shannon Douglas that went to St. Andrews Public School in Cambridge, Ontario circa 2007. Please reply to this post if you have any info about them!

what a nerd😯😯

there were characters morally worse than him in this series but there were none who were crazier

I LITERALLY THOUGHT OF THAT SONG WHILE WRITING THIS ANALYSIS!!! I wanted to put it in because I thought, "wow this is na baekjin fr" but i got a little sick of writing😓😓😓

do you guys get it if i say donald na is taylor swift coded

Thanks to whoever edited this wiki article of Kaz Brekker

it’s hilarious

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian babies that were left to starve to death then rot in their beds by the IOF.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian doctors surrounded by bodies of dead children begging the world to stop the slaughter.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian children who held a press conference in English to beg the world to stop murdering them because they want to live.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Priest who said "We will not accept your apology after the genocide" to the world.

I'm never forgetting the Palestinian Imam who used the speakers of the Mosque, not to call people to prayer but to call out to God while the world around them was burning from American supplied Israeli bombs.

I'm never forgetting the grandfather who held his dead grandchild in his arms. Or the father carrying the remains of his two children in plastic shopping bags. Or the mother holding her dead child in a shroud. Or the father sitting among the rubble after he lost his whole family. Or the girl trapped under a broken building begging for people to save her family first. Or the boy who cried when he saw his brother alive. Or the girl who asked if she was still alive after being pulled from the rubble. Or the boy who carried the remains of his brother in his backpack. Or the old man the IOF used for a photoshoot before they shot him dead after getting pictures. Or the little boy wearing plastic gloves to pick up the remains of his family. Or the graves desecrated. Or the body of that small baby girl left alone in a tent because no one knew who she was or if her family was alive, small and alone and not one person who knew her name to bury her. Or the young boy who was shot in the street while his sister watched from the window. Or the men and boys who were stripped naked in winter. Or those tortured. Or those made to stand in open graves. Or the people who were raped by IOF soldiers. Or Palestinian workers kidnapped by the IOF and then labeled with wristbands, each one reduced to a number, then made to walk back to Gaza to be killed in the world's largest open air concentration camp. Or the people of Gaza starving because Israeli Zionists are blocking aid trucks. Or the Israelis dancing and celebrating the death of Palestinians. Or the lies spread by Zionists and their supporters. Or the people profiting off the oppression and deaths of Palestinians. Or the people of the West Bank being killed or kidnapped by the IOF. Or old woman who was older than the creation of the terror state of "Israel" who was shot by snipers for saying that. Or the Israelis dressed up as Palestinians to enter a hospital and kill three Palestinians in their beds. Or every single Palestinian currently kept in an Israeli prison. Or the journalists, doctors, poets, men, women, children, and the unborn all massacred. Or the fact that WCNSF exists now. Or the woman who refused to wash the blood from her hands. Or the dead, unburied and unmourned.

I'm never forgetting those who chose silence in the face of a genocide.

I may not know all their names but I will not forget the over 30,000 Palestinians dead. Or the over 60, 000 people hurt. Or the unknown number of people missing, still lost under the rubble. Or the 12,000 children slaughtered. An entire generation crippled or murdered.

I will never forget these things when Palestine is free.

Next Benoit Blanc mystery is a muppet movie. You agree. Reblog.

Chain of Command Chapter 6

The elevator ride down was dead quiet. Forrest and Robin walked silently, faces turned towards the ground. She suspected that the two were embarrassed by the ordeal on the rooftop.

Standing at the doorway of the building was Grape, the pile of cigarette butts at his feet having doubled since she last saw him. She’d bumped into him on her way up to the rooftop, and she didn’t need to look at the ground to tell that he’d been stress smoking. The boy reeked of smoke. 

She’d regarded him with a click of her tongue and a small look of sympathy before rushing upstairs– she supposed hearing the words ‘Wolf Keum’ alone were already enough to give him a panic attack. Poor baby. 

“What did that fucker say?” Grape cut through the thick silence, returning to his position behind Forrest as he shoved his hands into his pockets, the expression on his face making it obvious that he only expected the worst. Not that she blamed him.

“The money and files got stolen.” Forrest informed him, and Grape nodded soundlessly. Had it been someone else he might’ve made a derisive joke, but he seemed to be worried that if he even opened his mouth, Wolf Keum would swoop down like an eagle and swallow him whole. Maybe he just didn’t want to take the risk.

The four of them continued to walk quietly, before Forrest Lee spoke again. Perhaps he’d wanted to break the silence, or perhaps he’d just been waiting till they were a safe distance away from Ganghak to talk. 

“So you’ll be working with that bastard from now on, huh Bambi?” Forrest glanced to the side to look at her, and she studied his face. He looked grim, though she thought she could spot a hint of relief too. He was probably just glad he didn’t have to face the Big Bad Wolf alone anymore.

“Yeah.” She slowed down as the quartet reached a bus stop, and the three boys stopped with her. Her bus was already there, slowing down as it reached the stop. “I’m gonna go now. Bye.” 

She barely heard the perfect sync of goodbyes from the boys as she turned around, long brown hair swishing behind her, and stepped onto the vehicle.

~

It’d been about an hour since this meeting had started, and Bambi was starting to get restless. The last sixty minutes, she’d been standing behind Donald’s armchair,  watching as he talked to the new client sitting across from them. 

The new business partner was another wrinkly man in his sixties with a failing business, desperate for Donald’s help. The news of KHG’s big break had spread through the grapevine, and now businessmen were swarming around Donald like he was the second coming of Christ. Because of that, they’d seen a pretty large increase in their commissions. What a blessed new year.

The old man seemed to be wrapping the meeting up now, sticking his hand out to Donald, both anxiety and excitement displayed on his face at the idea of all the money he was about to make. 

She didn’t pay further attention to any of the other words exchanged between the two, turning her focus instead to the clock on the wall (9pm) and both her mental and physical exhaustion. Thank God it’s finally over. Kingsley, who had stood by her side until now, followed the man on his way out to guide him downstairs, leaving Donald and Bambi alone behind him.

The room fell silent after the door snapped shut.

Bambi tapped her foot nervously.

Usually she preferred silence, but with Donald the quiet always felt suffocating. Like even breathing would make an avalanche of noise. Like there were a thousand thoughts running through his head at once, and she was missing out on every single one of them.

Donald didn’t seem to be bothered by the lack of noise though, standing up and making his way to the other side of the office wordlessly. Bambi leaned back to rest her body weight on the chair, watching as he stood in front of the large window, his hands clasped behind his back. 

Perhaps to a bystander, it may have seemed like he was admiring the view. But she didn’t need to look to know that he was watching her in the reflection, his red eyes trained on her like a hawk. Staying as still as possible under Donald’s gaze proved to be a challenge, and she found herself fiddling with her fingers anxiously as she forced herself to meet his gaze in the glass.

She felt like he knew that he was torturing her with his silence– like he enjoyed her attention, enjoyed watching her hang on to his every movement, waiting for more.

After all, all she wanted was to know him better.

Ever since she first joined the Union, she’d felt an unexplainable magnetic pull towards Donald Na. It was as if he were the sun, and she was just a small insignificant dwarf planet rotating around him. 

He had charisma, and what seemed like infinite confidence capable of making even her nervous. From the moment she’d first set eyes on him, she’d made it her lifelong goal to unravel the mystery of who Donald Na really was.

Plus, Donald was nice, which made it easier. Not nice in the way where he’d hold open doors for you or smile at you in the street, but where he’d make small talk and pretend to care about your personal life. Not that she was stupid enough to actually mistake this for friendship– he did this with everybody, even the executives he beat up. Just another thing that came built in with his alluring personality– but it opened up a door for her to actually know him. The person past the intimidating stare and massive displays of wealth that she now realised looked a lot like a form of protection.

She relished in the attention that he gave her, though admitting it made her feel somewhat embarrassed. It was like she’d deciphered a puzzle no one else could solve, except she was really only halfway to the answer– even after all the time they’d spent together, it still felt like she’d barely scraped the surface of who Donald Na really was. Well, she wasn’t gonna stop now.

No matter how much it went against her better judgement.

“It’s late. You should go home.” Donald had finally looked away from her, his attention turned to the streets below, and she felt a pang of jealousy. The tone he’d used was casual enough, but she knew the statement was more than a simple formality.

So, instead of saying her goodbyes, she walked towards his desk slowly, almost defiantly, fighting the urge to smile as his eyes finally left the window and followed her across the room till she was right behind him. 

Dragging out the silence, she spoke slowly. “What about you?”

Donald turned slightly at her question, and his red eyes glinted, as if he was amused by her deliberate slowed pace. Often, she went so quick everybody around her found it hard to keep up. But when it came to Donald, it felt like she had to go slow, or she’d miss out something essential and never catch up. She knew he knew it too.

She stopped herself from huffing. Not her fault being around him felt like walking in a minefield. He let out a small breath of air, deadpan expression melting into a smirk. She wanted to ask him what he thought was so funny.

“I have work to do.” 

Both pairs of eyes flicked down to the stack of files on his desk, and Bambi nodded in understanding. It wasn’t rare to see Donald working late into the night, a small frown on his face as he read through reports and legal documents, and who knows what else. Sometimes he fell asleep at his desk, head resting on his arms, a rare moment of vulnerability for someone as vicious as Donald Na.

“Would you like tea? Or coffee?” Bambi was already turning towards the door, though her eyes stayed fixed on him.

Donald smiled, tapping on his desk.

“Coffee will do.”

i literally cannot wrap my head around the notion that there’s been a “decline” in “real art.” that music is shitty now, that books aren’t what they used to be, etc etc etc.

art is more broadly accessible than ever. it’s unbelievable. it’s divine. there’s so much art on this planet right now that i could pile it all up on a plate and devour it for the rest of my life without making a dent. denigrating the “quality” of “today’s art” is like ordering a three course meal at your favorite restaurant and complaining about a food truck on the other side of town

When you ignore that it’s horrible that things like this can even happen, Elon Musk is honestly a fascinating and funny case study. Here’s a man who has built his entire reputation on:

Supposedly being highly intelligent

Never making mistakes due to point 1

If something goes wrong, it’s not his fault due to point 2

He’s coasted along on this reputation because capitalism has created an endless supply of doofuses who think anyone who has money probably did something to deserve it (he just inherited it) so all he has to do is throw money at projects that seem smart and futury and as long as they make a minor profit or produce something cool, his reputation is reinforced.

It’s not truly reinforced, obviously, because anyone with reasonable critical thinking skills can see that he’s not actually a scientist, he’s at best an investor who got lucky a couple times, and regularly takes the credit for stuff his employees make, but he’s got enough of the aforementioned doofuses that he’s gotten by so far.

He could’ve honestly kept out of the spotlight and just made infinite money if he wasn’t also an egomaniac who needs constant approval and attention. But then, for clout, he made a statement that he was going to buy Twitter. And Twitter held him to his word. And due to point 2, he can’t walk that back, because he never makes mistakes.

So now he’s lost 44 billion dollars because he couldn’t watch his mouth and cared too much about his reputation to just pay the 1 billion dollar fine to go back on his offer. So, due to point 1, he has to make it look as if he totally was going to really buy Twitter all along, and he totally has real plans for it. But Twitter is losing money, hard. So he starts looking for ways to make his money back. And somehow lands on… monetizing the system which verifies user identities…..?

No, totally a good idea, see point 2. Implementing it right away. People are misusing the new system? Not his fault, see point 3. But Twitter is largely funded by advertising, and advertisers can see what’s going on. So they start pulling out, which means Twitter just loses MORE money. Musk just dug himself a deeper hole. And now he’s just panicking while trying to convince everyone he’s got it under control. Digging deeper and deeper.

He’s fucked. He’s just totally fucked himself. And he’s taking one of the planet’s biggest social media platforms down with him. All because he can never admit making a mistake. Fucking hilarious. A cautionary tale of magnificent proportions. Tens of thousands of lives are going to be affected by this, as the platform they use to spread their work goes up in flames, and it’s horrible, but as we are suspended in the ennui, we can at least watch this moron blow up into fireworks. Amazing.