#just won the Nobel Peace Prize

[areyougonnabe]

I see why Clem is Contained within his Clemclosure. HOKAY. So what's going on with Amundsen, Nansen, and Johansen? (Also you by no means have to continute to humor my nonsense but you are full of ARCTIC TEA and I'm genuinely so interested.)

SO FIRST OF ALL IT MUST BE SAID I MADE A MAJOR MISTAKE IN THAT CORNER and this is how it should have looked actually (i left out the line between amundsen and nansen):

as you can see there between amundsen and nansen it says "end-stage M&Ms decay." that probably makes no sense so let me back it up. "wanting daddy's M&Ms" is a reference to this succession parody video that has long since curdled into a general way of referring to like. erotically-tinged approval-seeking from a superior????

anyway. i am not by any means a norwegian guys expert so this will not be hugely detailed BUT. this is the basics.... and if you want more detail check out the last viking by stephen brown!

fridtjof nansen was The Big Man in polar exploration, ever since he made the first crossing of greenland on skis when he was only 27 in 1888. incidentally he was big sexy

after greenland, he had the ship Fram purpose-built to survive being trapped in the pack ice and proceeded to head north in 1893 and well, get it trapped in the pack ice. using this unorthodox method he planned to drift with the pack and reach a new furthest north record, and maybe even make it to the pole.

hjalmer johansen, an athlete, skier, & dog driver, was on this expedition, and nansen chose him to accompany him when he left the ship in the middle of the drift (2 years into the expedition) to make a dash for the pole. using dogs and skis they reached 86º14' which was a major record for the time!!!

of course they couldn't... go back to the ship... bc it had drifted while they were gone. so they ended up having the incredible luck to come across Franz Josef Land, an archipelago in the russian arctic, on their way south and ended up wintering there. EVEN CRAZIER, when they left again in the spring they ran into ANOTHER EXPEDITION—the jackson-harmsworth expedition happened to be hanging out in franz josef land too!

(a posed photo they took a couple days later lolol i love it)

sooo ok. furthest north, big deal, blah blah. nansen was now a national and international hero, rich and famous, and took up a professorship to focus on compiling the expedition's scientific reports. he became the Dude Everyone Came To Ask For Polar Advice From - advice which he handed out pretty freely (though not everyone listened... akdjhsdfsfsdf)

roald amundsen had been inspired by nansen since he was young and the man was pretty much his all-time idol. after amundsen's successful transit of the northwest passage in 1906, he was interested in finally pursuing his lifelong dream of being first to the north pole. he was able to convince nansen to let him use the fram to do another north polar drift, and try to make it all the way to the "big nail."

nansen was like ok sure :) as long as you take my buddy johansen :)))) who could really use a gig :)))))))))))

johansen had been uuuhhhh not doing great in the years since getting back from the first fram expedition.

but WHOOPS - in the middle of amundsen's preparations, in 1909, cook and peary happened. ("happened" lol) soooo the north pole was out of the question—at least as far as being first went, and that's p much what mattered to amundsen. it had to be south.

but amundsen couldn't just TELL everyone he was going south. for ummm a lot of reasons mostly related to funding and not wanting all the donors (incl the government) to pull out of the expedition and stop him from going altogether.

and that included... nansen!!!!!!! he literally didn't tell nansen he was taking HIS ship to the complete other side of the planet. bc nansen might have been like "no u cant"

anyway nansen was ok with it when he eventually found out, BUT literally nobody else was lol.

ok fast forward a bit and DURING amundsen's actual south pole expedition johansen was causing a lot of trouble. he and amundsen experienced so much friction that amundsen ended up leaving him out of the final polar party as punishment.

when they return from the south pole to australia, amundsen dismissed johansen from the expedition immediately and ordered him to return to norway separately.

within two years he had committed suicide.

:(

during amundsen's lengthy speaking tour to celebrate his south pole victory, nansen (the consummate scientist and diplomat) is like. ok roald buuuut you really really really have to do that north polar drift now even though they've already been to the north pole. bc you said you would!!!!!!!!!!!

let it be known roald really did not want to lol and kept putting it off and eventually it became his most Cringe Fail Expedition of all time aka the Maud expedition.

his relationship with nansen was complex until the end of his life especially when nansen had to play diplomatic damage control due to some rancid stuff roald published in his memoir. and then nansen outlived him!!!!! and gave his eulogy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! [YELLS]

weirdly there's not a lot of pictures of them together but here's a snap from the belgica expedition that im obsessed with bc de gerlache looks like he's about to shit himself standing next to nansen who's like, radiating tinder profile pic vibes. and roald is over there on the right staring into the middle distance like . The M&Ms. They Are Within My Reach. Stay Cool. Girl U Got This.

[riririnnnn]

-> Multi-talented:

@soleilonthesun giving a heartfelt speech after receiving her 237th oscar award for her outstanding movies. According to sources, she writes her scripts on an average time of 14 minutes and was just 10 months old when she directed her first film. Reporting isn't the only thing she is talented in!

-> Trauma Bonding:

(L -> R) @riririnnnn, @galaxynajma and @luvingshidou in the hospital after getting their craniums C R O N C H E D by @getosugurusbangs's girlfriend, Alexis Ness. This traumatic incident has brought these members even closer to eachother. They reportedly raced in a wheelchair around the hallways of the hospital and the tire marks are said to be preserved and converted to a historical landmark to honour Girlfriend FC!

-> Beauty with brain:

@satosuguhastakenovermylife working in her glam laboratory. She played a key role in breaking Aiku's curse and saving her team's members' lives. Insiders say that she has refused 30 Nobel Peace Prizes till now because she wants to remain humble. She also provides regular lectures for the lecturers in Harvard University.

-> Beauty with brawn:

After @luvingshidou's epic fights with the aliens from outer space, she realised her true power and entered the world of kickboxing and WWE. Since that day, she has won over 451 matches and has been awarded 233 title belts. Legends say that she have been seen fighting bears in the forest with her bare hands.

-> GAS GAS GAS‼️:

While trying to pick up her daughter, @bueris, @hooudie212 learnt about her phenomenal driving skills. Since that day, she has been racing. She has won 341 street races and 179 F1 races. She is rumoured to launch her own car company and according to sources, her cars achieve a max speed of 981 m/s and can withstand a meteo's direct hit.

-> Happily ever after:

@someprettyname with her lover, Chigiri Hyoma. After her break up with her previous long-term lover, she didn't have any hopes for love, but then Chigiri Hyoma entered her life and showered her with love that she deserves. Girlfriend FC wishes this new couple a very long happy life together!!

-> Battle of worthy one:

(L -> R) The legendary battle between @merlucide and @riririnnnn for the worthy one of @licoririce's kisses. The battle is live streamed with 10B+ viewers currently. People are streaming on multiple devices to see multiple angles. Folklore says that @riririnnnn has never lost a battle against a challenger and @merlucide has never lost a battle she challenged—truly an immovable object meeting an unstoppable force!

-> Unhand me, Mortal!:

Usagi Isagi, a bunny adopted by @blue-thief. Bunny whisperers have claimed that Usagi Isagi is planning to take over the whole world! But for now, he spends his day cheering for Girlfriend FC. He has been recorded jumping up and down out of happiness whenever @blue-thief scores a goal.

-> Eepy:

Kitty Kaiser, a kitten rescued from a dumpster by @galaxynajma. @riririnnnn claims that he ate all the dirt from her garden and left big holes where her twin, @bueris, fell down. However, for now, he sleeps without a worry in the world!

That's it for now!

Hope we'll have more lore, I want to add other members too in our treasured memories.

[mariacallous]

The far-right violence against foreigners in the United Kingdom these days strongly reminds me of a novel published in the 1980s: J.M. Coetzee’s Waiting for the Barbarians.

Coetzee, a South African novelist who won the Nobel Prize in literature in 2003, describes in this slim volume exactly why and how this kind of violence erupts: because communities have been drip-fed lies and racial prejudices for a long time, until they form an image of strangers—in this novel, the barbarian nomadic tribes—that has very little to do anymore with reality.

The central character in Waiting for the Barbarians, which Philip Glass turned into an opera in 2005, is a middle-aged magistrate who has been running a sleepy border settlement of an unnamed Empire for years. Nothing ever happens in the village or in neighboring towns and villages. Everyone knows everyone. The subjects of the Empire and the barbarians living on the other side of the border, which is totally porous, have bent the rules so that everyone can go about their business without bothering others. The barbarians come to the village for food and medicine and go home afterward.

The magistrate must implement the rules of the Empire but tries to do this in a human, benign-ish way. When there is an occasional cattle raid, for example, he has a serious talk with those who did it. He hardly ever takes prisoners, and when he does, they are fed, kept clean, and often released early: “All my life I have believed in civilized behaviour.” In his view, conflicts do not benefit anyone and should be avoided. All is certainly not perfect, but it keeps the peace. The communities live more or less quietly side by side.

Then, one day, a delegation from the Empire’s secret service (the “Third Bureau”), led by Colonel Joll, visits the village. Joll, an unbending bureaucrat, is convinced that the nomad tribes are secretly preparing an attack on the Empire. He leads an expedition in search of rebels and radicals and comes back to the settlement with many suspects in chains. They are terrified. Suddenly, the prison is full. The inmates are humiliated, starved, and tortured. The magistrate tries to stop this (“These are fishermen, not rebels!”), but Colonel Joll sidelines him and continues to torture the barbarians until all “confess.”

After the colonel’s departure, the magistrate feeds the prisoners and sends most of them home. One of them is a nomad girl. He tends to her wounds, washes her feet, and sleeps with her. Eventually, he brings her all the way back to her tribe. When he returns home after the long journey, Joll is back. He has the magistrate charged with treason—“consorting with the enemy”—and throws him in the same jail where the barbarians are kept.

No one comes to the magistrate’s rescue. Many villagers have become as hysterical as the colonel, and the rest are lying low. By now, every barbarian seems like a terrorist to them. Any behavior that was once normal has become suspect. Eventually, of course, the village just destroys itself—without a single barbarian going on the attack. The settlement is a ruin. Most people have left, including the colonel and his people. The magistrate stays: He has nowhere to go. As a bitter winter cold sets in, he feels stupid, “like a man who lost his way long ago but presses on along a road that may lead nowhere.”

Although the novel was published in 1980, it has stark relevance for our times. Coetzee, whose Empire of course depicted South Africa under apartheid, shows how easy it is for a few zealots to turn communities that have long managed to live in peace against one another. All they need to do is to plant false, scary rumors about a particular group; embed them in a larger narrative about sovereignty, nationhood, and security; and then start pumping that narrative around. If citizens are scared enough, they are willing to believe it all. As Hermann Göring, the architect of Adolf Hitler’s Nazi police state, said when he was asked how he got the German people to accept Nazism: “The people can always be brought to the bidding of the leaders. That is easy. All you have to do is tell them they are being attacked and denounce the pacifists for lack of patriotism and exposing the country to danger.”

With this grim novel, Coetzee issued a strong, principled condemnation of South Africa’s apartheid regime, then still in full swing. (He immigrated to Australia later, in 2002.) Its relevance for today’s “far-right thuggery” in the U.K., as Prime Minister Keith Starmer put it last weekend, is no less clear. When far-right politicians fan the flames of racial and religious hatred for years, amplified by social media and newspapers calling migrants and asylum-seekers criminals, at some point Muslim communities and mosques will be targeted, asylum centers will be set ablaze, and Nazi salutes will be seen on the street.

In a democracy, words have consequences. A democracy is a political system that must ensure different communities in society do not get at one another’s throats. All communities have different interests. Therefore, there is always some friction between them. Because society is always changing, the balance between the communities is always changing, too. Democracy is meant to help them find a new balance, all the time. This applies to all levels of governance: local, provincial, national, European. Politics, journalism, and other institutions have a role to play in this system—a clear responsibility. Incitement, provocations, the spread of fake news, and the demonization of one community because of skin color or religion mean that they reject that responsibility. These are forms of democratic sabotage.

Coetzee’s message, voiced through the magistrate, is not a happy one. “To the last we will have learned nothing. In all of us, deep down, there seems to be something granite and unteachable.” Still, the magistrate plows on—what else can he do? He may be far from perfect, but he is a good man.

In the words of Coetzee, the real danger in society “always comes from within.” The U.K. is lucky to have a prime minister who seems to understand this.

[just2bubbly]

So apparently I decided to write fluff after a long long time and I'm quite proud of myself for that! :)

Masterlist

Romantic Diversions

Ship: Kaider

Words: 925

Genre: Fluff

Kai's Perspective:

Dhsam!

The door was opened with a loud bang which caused Kai to stir from his work. This uninvited disturbance gave rise to subtle anger and he was ready to pounce on the individual who had decided to barge in his cabin in such a dramatic fashion. 

Regardless, he didn't do any of that since the person who was standing at the door was his own wife. He smiled at her sight, expecting the generic 'Did I disturb you?' from her but she had more surprising cards up her sleeves today. Her theatrical entry just led to an even bigger bouncy voice. 

"I can't believe you did that?!" she cried as she pulled a seat before him. That phrase left him more baffled than ever. Cinder wasn't the one for dramatic flair if truth be told- he was the theatre kid out of the two. 

"What did I do?" he questioned, the file he was working on completely forgotten. 

"Look," she said as she passed the tablet to him. Kai was really curious about what he had done that had got Cinder so excited so he looked into the screen without asking any further questions. 

The screen played a video: 

"Your Majesty, would you like to say anything about the lack of apprehension-" some reporter asked before being interrupted by another.

Kai was not expecting to be chased by a mass of reporters as he flew back home. Alas, he was having a press conference in the airport parking lot right now and he definitely wasn't prepared for this one. 

"Goodness, is that Dr Alan Coetze I see there," he exclaimed- seeing the familiar face of the scientist who talked in a language Kai wasn't quite fluent in. Cinder used to love watching his shows and Kai had seen them from time to time too.

"My wife, the Empress is a big fan of Dr Coetze. You would have to excuse me. I need to have his autograph. My wife would be sorely disappointed if I let down this chance," he explained as he tried making his way towards his saviour. 

The press seemed taken aback by his words, having a hard time believing that it was the Emperor gushing about a European scientist who had just won the Nobel Peace Prize for his thesis. 

"But you are the Emperor, Your Majesty-" someone argued, trying to put sense in him. 

"So what? You don't have any idea how inconsiderate intelligent people are towards royalty," he noted. His arguments made little sense but he needed an escapade and this crazily intelligent man that was standing a few yards from him was going to give him exactly that. 

"Your Majesty, you don't- " 

"I understand it's your work but you do have to be a little understanding about my situation too. My anniversary is getting closer and what better gift than the autograph of Dr Alan Coetze. You would have to excuse me for now. However I promise you, there will be a press conference in New Beijing and I look forward to seeing you all there." 

..

"Oh goodness!" Kai laughed and looked up, his wife's contagious smile made him smile more. 

"I can't believe you said it!" she gushed again. 

"Well, I had a flight to attend and the press wasn't going anywhere. I had to make some diversions," he elaborated, passing the tablet back to her. If he knew anything, he was sure this news was everywhere by now. 

"You're telling me the world's best diplomat needed a romantic diversion?"

"You're never gonna let this one go, are you?" he asked, knowing very well the answer to that question, instead he focused on signing the bottom of the page. 

"That isn't going to be the problem. Next press conference everyone is going to talk about this and this only," she pointed out, forgetting to mention that she too was going to make multiple jokes at his expense. 

He glanced at her, thinking how if these small diversions were what made her smile ear to ear then Kai would be likely to commit more of them every now and then. 

"Nothing that a small 'I love my wife' can't suffice." 

"Which reminds me - you said 'my wife' so many times throughout the entire thing." 

"I have a lovely wife. You can't forbid me from bringing her up all the damn time," he said. 

"Stars, I can't believe you," she continued to say, glancing back at the video before whispering, "I love my wonderful husband too." 

"Shh, don't let my wife hear about this. She gets quite protective," he smirked, throwing a wink in her direction. 

That made her chuckle again as she leaned over the desk to whisper in his ear, "Where's my autograph, Your Majesty?"

He tipped to stare into her brown orbs and replied, "I think I said it was an anniversary gift."

Before closing the inches between the two, he murmured, "Wait your time kitten." Cinder captured his lips with hers, her hands holding the back of his neck. One of his hands spread across her cheek, as he deepened the -

Tring! Tring!

The kiss was cut short by the comm that rang through Cinder's tablet and both of them groaned over it. 

"I'd see you at dinner," Cinder said, getting up from her seat. She was almost out of the door when she looked over her shoulder and announced, "I better have an autograph." 

Kai chuckled at the demand and had a delighted feeling for having met the scientist that day.

--

A/N: Wrote this because I have got myself fixated on this power celebrity couple and they had a fun banter on the media and I couldn't help but imagine it for Kai and Cinder. It seems a lil unrelaistic but it's mostly the modern day alteration of the royalty and media. Hope you like it! <333

tagging: @gingerale2017 @salt-warrior @slmkaider @cinderswrench @cindersassasin @impossiblesuitcase @kaiderswell @kaider-is-my-otp @therealkaidertrash21 @fangirlforever0704

[kyle1]

~the year is 2050

and Taylor Swift (c) has just won the Nobel Peace Prize for putting on the most mind-bogglingly awesome, kaleidoscopically-complete ensemble and throwback global stage tour complete with real, actual, homegrown clones to play all the separate, younger instances of her former self, in real time, on the exact same stage!

As such, there is no doubt in this reporter's mind that the-

"TAYLOR SWIFT (Repu-Taylor's Version), Golden Era(s), RE:Agent 'The Sparkling Stars and Beyond' Exposition and Lore Festival Tour"

-will go down in History as the single greatest worldwide unification of humanity since... well , ever!

And with all Sincerity and the loving smile of the Lord Almighty, Himself this much I can say:

[wisteria-cherry]

forty days and forty nights (day thirteen!)

(lucky thirteen :)

(read them all here!)

your heart dropped when the bells rang next.

bakugo came in as per usual, but he was covered with grime and blood. there was a gash towards the bottom of his cheek that cut down past his jawline that must’ve been two, three inches long.

“wh..” you couldn’t even form a coherent word. even your customers were murmuring amongst themselves, glancing at bakugo worriedly.

you slowly walk out from behind the counter. you reach out, your fingers ghosting over the gash.

“what…” you were so confused. what happened? why was he hurt?

…why was he grinning?

“i beat ‘im.” bakugo managed to say, his voice especially gravelly as though he’d been shouting a lot. his expression was the sort of expression you’d find on a cat or a dog when they bring you a gift, but the gift is something you really don’t want, like a dead sparrow, but they don’t know it’s a bad gift so they’re just smiling like they won a Nobel Peace Prize.

“what?” you finally manage to breathe out. you wanted to cry.

“i beat ‘im. the villain. i tracked him down an’ i beat the shit outta him.” bakugo grinned toothily. he then looked at your expression. his grin faltered.

“oi, what’s that look for, dumbass?” he frowned. the nerve of this guy. your expression morphed from worried to indignant.

“what do you mean, what’s that look for?” you demanded, pulling your hands back, upset. “you’re hurt! you just— you just come in here, bleeding like hell, and the first thing you’re concerned about is the freaking villain?!” bakugo’s brow furrowed.

“the hell? ‘s’not like i’m bleeding on the floor or some shit.”

“that’s not what i’m worried about!” you exclaim. “i’m worried that you’re in your hero costume, hurt and bleeding and—“

“oi.”

“what?!”

“shut up for a second, will ya? most of it’s not even my blood.”

you stop.

“but there’s a gash. on your face.” you frown.

“sure, so i got a little scratched here and there.” bakugo rolled his eyes. “shoulda seen the other guy.”

“that is so like you.” you sigh, taking a few deep breaths to regain your composure. bakugo smirked.

“see? i’m fine, dumbass.” he scoffed. you huffed, playfully hitting him in the arm. bakugo hissed.

“careful, idi-“

“you said they were just scratched.” you interrupt.

“you gonna let me speak or are you gonna interrupt me again?” bakugo raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. cheeky bastard.

“fine.”

“most of it’s just scratches, but i tore a muscle or something ‘cuz i overused my quirk.” he stated.

“bakugo, did you even get medical attention before coming here?”

“don’t need it. ‘m fine.” bakugo grunted, clearly not amused at being babied.

“you do too. c’mon, we have a first aid kit in the back. i wanna at least make sure those scratches are tended to.” you exhale.

“hell no. i said i don’t need it.” bakugo replied bluntly. “i just came for a damn coffee, that’s it.”

“no coffee ‘til you get patched up.”

“i’ll go somewhere else, then!”

“paparazzi.” the single word made bakugo grumble. the café was, after all, the only place he’d found to date where the press hadn’t found him and bothered him.

“this is fucking blackmail.”

“the coffee’s free.”

“…” you knew you’d tempted him when you made the offer, but he was still silent for a few moments.

“just let me do the worst ones.”

“top three.” bakugo bargained, narrowing his eyes.

“top five.”

“three.”

“four?”

“three.”

“okay.” you sigh. “three. let’s go to the break room, there’s no one there right now.”

“what about the literal goddamn store you’re running?” bakugo pointed out.

“yamamoto is baking. I’ll tell him to keep an eye out.” you wave your hand dismissively as you herd him towards the break room. “now go.”

“just like my old hag..” he grumbled, trudging into the room and plopping down on a chair lazily.

“i don’t blame her, if you’re going into her house like this.” you huff, pulling the first aid kit from the shelf and popping it open. you looked him up and down. overall, he wasn’t that injured. at least nothing was broken. but he was bleeding through his costume in quite a few spots.

“where does it hurt the worst?” you ask, your expression softening now that you were done being upset with him. bakugo grumbled.

“..m’arm. ‘n’ my face.” bakugo admitted finally, looking away and jutting his bottom lip out— he was pouting. “not that it hurts bad anyway.”

“okay. can you roll your sleeves up, then?” you ask. “we’ll take care of the arms first.” bakugo’s brow furrowed. he pushed his sleeve up, but the rumpled fabric wouldn’t go up past his elbows. you frowned.

“can you take your arm out of the sleeve?” you suggest. bakugo tches before ripping the sleeve off.

“don’t you need that sleeve?” you gape.

“nah. this suit’s done for anyway. too many rips. they’re gonna get me a new one.” bakugo huffed. “are you gonna fix me up or not?”

“if you say so.” you arch an eyebrow, but pour rubbing alcohol on a cotton pad anyway. you begin to dab at the gash on his bicep, hesitating slightly as you watch it flex tense.

“you good?”

“i’m fine.” bakugo snapped. “just hurry it up.” your lips twitch, threatening to smile. it was amusing to see him trying to put up a tough guy act, primarily because he sucked at acting.

“whatever you say.” you hum, dabbing at it again. bakugo’s lips formed a tight line, not uttering a word. once you finished cleaning it, you stick a butterfly bandage on it to make sure it closes the gash.

“it’s not big enough to need stitches, i don’t think,” you say, “but the butterfly bandage’ll help.”

“whatever.”

“where’s the other one? we’ll get your face last.”

“‘s’ on my back.” bakugo grunted. “just get the face one first.”

“okay.” you’d given up trying to compromise. at this point, you were just glad that he was cooperating.

you pour the alcohol on a new cotton pad and dab it on his face. his jaw flexes and it’s clear that he’s still tensing up.

“you okay?” you ask, pulling your hand away.

“just finish the damn thing.” bakugo snapped.

“okay.” you quietly finish patching it up. “it’s all good. how about that back one?” before you could react, bakugo was calmly taking his entire top off. startled, you quickly and confusedly looked away.

“um—“ you began, but bakugo interrupted.

“the hell’re you doing? it’s just a goddamn shirt, it’s not like the damn thing covered anything anyway with how fucked up it was!” bakugo scoffed. he turned in his seat so his back faced you. “you gonna do it or not?”

“oh… okay.” you hesitantly turned back around. he had a nice back. a very nice back. it never occurred to you just how fit he really is. his was the kind of body people worked toward but never achieved as new year’s resolutions. chiseled muscles, all real. broad shoulders and a small waist.

“you’re really fit,” you blurt out, dabbing the wound with a new cotton pad. you can hear the smirk in bakugo’s voice as he replies.

“duh. i’m a pro hero.” he snickered. you find yourself blushing, embarrassed that you just burst out the first thing they came to your mind. you decided to stay silent.

“like what you see?” bakugo’s head turned to he could get a look at your face as he reveled in your misery. his reaction to your blush was to immediately bark out a laugh.

“god, your face!” he guffawed. “fuckin’ hell.”

“quit that or the next bit of rubbing alcohol is going on your eyeballs.” you grumbled. surprisingly, he did relent in his laughter, but he still wore a smug smirk on his face. “now turn back around and put a shirt on, your back is done.”

“have you seen that sad excuse of a shirt?” bakugo snorted, holding up the top of his hero costume, which was terribly torn. “like hell.”

“i have an extra shirt, would that work?” you offer, standing up, ready to go get it for him. bakugo stood up with you, turning around to face you again as he stretched. you forced your eyes to stay above his chest, even though he was eyeing you up and down.

“you’re fucking tiny. no way in hell i’ll fit.”

“we don’t know til we try.”

“fine. but if it doesn’t fit i’m blowing that thing to shreds.”

“suit yourself,” you chirp as you go get the shirt from your bag. you dig around for a moment before pulling it out with a satisfied smile.

“the hell do you have an extra shirt for anyway?” bakugo looked at the plain black t-shirt skeptically as you return.

“when i first started here, i was spilling coffee on myself left and right,” you admitted. “so i got into the habit of bringing an extra shirt. old habits die hard, i guess.” bakugo grunted in response, taking the shirt and sliding it on. it did indeed fit— kind of. it was tight, so much so that you could begin to see outlines of his abs through the shirt.

“see?” you beamed. “it fits.”

“yeah, yeah, whatever. don’t be a bitch about it.” bakugo huffed, clearly not happy that he was wrong but pleased that he wouldn’t have to go back out shirtless.

“c’mon, sit down, i’ll do your face.” you pat his seat, and he does as he’s told.

tending to the wound on his face was different than the other ones. it felt… intimate. bakugo was making eye contact the majority of the the time, only breaking it to glance at your hand on his face. it wasn’t awkward necessarily, but you sure were making it awkward (it’s your specialty). you tried to do that one as quickly as you could, dead focused on the wound and not bakugo’s pretty red eyes. as soon as you finished, you pulled away with a satisfied sigh.

“all done.” you glanced at the clock as the two of you stood up. “i have to go, anyway. my shift’s over and i’ve got plans with mina.” bakugo whipped around to face you.

“pinky?!” he demanded in disbelief.

“yeah. why, what’s up?” you look up at him curiously.

“you’re fucking kidding.”

“nope.”

“goddammit.” bakugo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. you only giggle, recognizing his tone— he’s wary of you two being together, probably because he won’t get a millisecond of peace once you’re friends.

“well, are you at least feeling better?” you grin, opting to change the subject.

“yeah.” bakugo shifted uncomfortably for a moment. “thanks, i guess.”

“no problem. c’mon, get outta here. employees only.” you shooed him.

“fuck off, you were the one who told me to come back here!” bakugo scowled, slapping your hands away. “i’m goin’, i’m goin’!”

you made your way into the main area of the cafe and you made his (free) coffee. he grumbled about how stupid the whole thing (ie, him actually taking care of himself) was.

“you know you’ve gotta take care of yourself.” you sigh as you hand him his coffee.

“yeah, i know it.” bakugo grunted. “‘s not like i don’t.”

“you came into the cafe bloody and filthy.”

“that’s different.” bakugo looked (glared) up at you. “i had to tell you i got that stupid villain.”

“i’m happy you did.” you smile. “you were pretty upset when he got away.”

“i know.” bakugo huffed. “but his bitch ass is in jail now.”

“as he should be.” you hum. you glance at the clock. “i’ve gotta head home now. i don’t have much time to get ready for mina.”

“where d’you live?” bakugo asked.

“not too far from here. just down the street.”

“‘ll walk ya home.” bakugo stood up. “where’re the damn to-go cups?”

“here.” you grab one and set it down in front of him. you grin. “do i need to write your heinously long hero name on it?” bakugo scowled.

“fuck off. you’re lucky i’m walking you home.”

“huh?” you blink. you hadn’t registered it when he said it the first time, too occupied by getting his to-go cup. “oh, you don’t have to, it’s a short walk.”

“then it won’t be a problem when i come.” bakugo grunted, pouring the smooth coffee from the mug to the paper to-go cup.

“if you’re sure,” you said hesitantly.

“yeah, ‘m sure. now don’t make me regret it.” bakugo glowered as he popped the lid on the cup. you only smile as you clock out on the computer and hang up your apron on its respective hook.

“ready to go?” you smile. bakugo nodded as he stood up.

“i’ve been ready. hurry it up, dumbass.” he slipped his mask on. the both of you walked out, the bells still ringing happily.

bakugo looked shifty once you and him were actually walking. he kept looking around, like there was something he was trying to avoid. it must be the paparazzi, you figured. the walk to your apartment was indeed short, and once you reached it, you smiled.

“thank you for walking me home,” you say earnestly. “see you tomorrow?”

“yeah.” bakugo grumbled. “tomorrow.” bakugo turned and walked away, just like that. you smiled to yourself before going inside, readying yourself for mina.

“like what you see?”

@k0z3me @cherryblossomclarity

[terrence-silver]

Has terry (all eras) ever won any awards in his life

---

You know how celebrities often get awards and you can list like several people off the top of your head who probably deserve the acknowledgment far more and you've no concrete idea what famous person McGee did to deserve this particular accolade other than, you know, being hip, famous and convenient for PR? Or how politicians who make a hobby out of starting wars worldwide regularly get Nobel Peace Prizes and nobody bats an eye?

Well, I figure Terry Silver runs on that exact level of oxymoronic irony too.

I think the man received everything from Environmental Protection awards all while polluting the planet and making an unimaginable profit out of it, various social awareness awards all while generally being a menace to public safety, citizen of the year awards when this man is genuinely a threat to society even if slightly pushed, some sort of Anti-Bullying choice award because I adore the profound comedy in that and Terry himself would too; in fact, I can envision him barely containing a smile or a hard-on while receiving that one. Business awards. Public service awards because Terry is the friendly neighborhood billionaire, didn't you know? Seaborg medal for astounding contributions to biochemical research. A barrage of martial arts related trophies. Some sort of coveted science award connected to Dynatox's noble endeavors in the field of, ehm, engineering breakthrough, new technologies and preserving the ecosystem. The Yeah, feel free to laugh. But, whatever the case, he has awards alright. Notches galore under his belt. He has medals, accolades and acknowledgements aplenty and he collected them over the decades like captured trophies. A great many of them would've been better suited in anyone else's hands but his...which he knows and doesn't care. In fact, it amuses him. He lied, schemed, cheated, scammed and baby, he still got rewarded, praised and applauded for it anyway because the world's his oyster and he gets whatever he wants, when he wants it.

The only awards I don't see him getting en masse are military service awards, admittedly, which is a sore point and has been all his life. Maybe why he gave such a gleefully envious and downright venomous expression when faced with Mr. Miyagi's own medal (or perhaps, it is simply the notion he believes someone like, say, John, deserves it more over an old (insert slur here)). The one endeavor Terry did participate and actively toil in in the form of the Vietnam war without any of it being faked, unearned, bribed for or a media stunt and he doesn't have that many things to show for it. Well, nothing tremendously spectacular anyway. I think he could have something very basic, like his Army Service Ribbon followed by a Silver Star and he never ceased being peeved about it because he might've been convinced his suffering earned him more. Or maybe it was just a matter of ego and pride. Maybe both. Whatever the case, the one thing Terry wanted and coveted, he didn't, in fact, get.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

ok what is your most fave javi outfit of all time? remember JUST ONE (I know it's hard lol)

NO. THIS QUESTION SHOULD BE ILLEGAL, I AM CALLING THE COPS ON YOU IMMEDIATELY. HOW DARE YOU MAKE ME CHOOSE?!?!?

Okay, legit I have had to think so long and hard about this because this is not something I take lightly... I'm gonna kind of cheat and give you a 1st, 2nd and 3rd place ranking (because who am I to deny the people of this fine app any less Javi than they deserve 🤷🏼‍♀️)

SO WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, I PRESENT TO YOU MY CHOICE(S)

Coming in at 3rd place, we have the blue button down and the grey khakis (PLUS THE TAC VEST). This is a god tier outfit, I don't make the rules. The slutty little buttons undone, the belt, the pants (THE PANTS 👀), I don't know what else to tell ya. Also without the tac vest this outfit gives me dad!Javi vibes 🫠

In 2nd place, I present to you GREEN SHIRT JAVI. Dude, when I tell you that this outfit literally changed the trajectory of my life forever, I do not kid you. SPECIFICALLY THIS?!?!?!

THIS?!?!? THIS RIGHT HERE?!?! I rest my case.

and FINALLY, coming in 1st place is my dearly beloved, the one, the ONLY, RED FLANNEL SHIRT.

I will never get over it. I never will. Every time I see it is more magical than the last. From the moment I first saw this episode I knew there was nothing in life I needed more than that man in a flannel shirt living his best domestic life. I have dreams about this outfit. This outfit has won a Nobel Peace Prize, this outfit is Time Magazine's Person of the Year, this outfit has been given the Presidential Medal of Honor. There is no outfit superior to this and I will (respectfully) fight anyone who says otherwise.

Let's be honest, Javi could put on a sack of potatoes and he would still be the hottest man in the room 🤷🏼‍♀️ Love 'em or hate 'em, these are my choices and I will defend them with honor 🫡

[skippyv20]

Just FYI. The landmine treaty had already been ratified before Diana died. The primary person behind the landmine treaty was a woman who, along with the organization she founded, received the Nobel Peace Prize. There was no mention of Diana in that peace prize cause while Diana got pr for the cause she really wasn't instrumental in the banning and clean up of the mines. Which makes it unlikely she was killed over land mines. If anyone would be targeted, it was the actual woman who started it all, got the treaty and won the Nobel.

Thank you❤️

[eretzyisrael]

Hamas didn’t invade Israel on Oct. 7 for its amusement. The barbaric sneak attack is a part of the pogrom intended to wipe out the Jewish state. It was a crime against humanity, and not just because of its savagery. We would all be worse off if Israel ceased to exist. The same cannot be said for Islamic terrorists.

Israel’s contributions to the modern world are momentous. When not dodging bullets, rockets, and homicide bombers, Israelis have since 1948 developed:

Copaxone and Rebif, drugs that treat multiple sclerosis, and Exelon, which treats mild to moderate dementia in Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s patients.

The PillCam, “a minimally invasive ingestible camera in a capsule that allows visualization of the small bowel.”

The water desalination process.

The Sniffphone, “that can actually ‘sniff out’ diseases.”

And SpineAssist, “​​the first-ever spine robot” that has the “ability to provide real-time intraoperative navigation.”

The Weizmann Institute of Science in Rehovot, Israel, responsible for some of the inventions listed above, has also produced diabetes and flu vaccines, is using T-cells to treat damaged spines, and is a pioneer in industrial — and medical — uses nano materials. 

Other impactful Israeli products include drip irrigation, a revolutionary microprocessor called the 8088, the ​​NIR heart stent, voice-over-internet protocol, the ​​USB flash drive, the Waze navigation app, ReWalk, “a commercial bionic walking assistance system,” and “the first commercially viable firewall software.” 

Our own security has benefited from Israel’s labor and work ethic.

“Many Israeli innovations are present in upgrades to U.S. Air Force fighters and Army equipment,” says the international law firm Smith, Gambrell & Russell. One important advance in particular is the helmet-mounted display system for the new F-35 Joint Strike Fighter.

So we have a country of 9.23 million, mostly desert, that is only 75 years old, is “surrounded by enemies” and in a constant state of war, which has “no natural resources,” yet “produces more start-up companies on a per capita basis than large, peaceful, and stable nations and regions like Japan, China, India, Korea, Canada, and all of Europe.” It is the only nation outside of the U.S. that Warren Buffet invests in.

Have the Palestinians or Hamas, currently at war with Israel, done anything that compares to what the Israelis have achieved? More broadly, beyond the Allahista terrorist groups, what has Islam contributed to the modern world?

Not much.

Since 1901, Jews, who total 0.2% of the world’s population, have won 189 Nobel prizes for physics, medicine, chemistry and economics. Over that same period, Muslims, who make up nearly a quarter of the global population, have won four.

If it seems as Islamic groups, Hamas and Hezbollah prominent among them, are more interested in spreading nihilism, committing atrocities, and destroying civilization than making the world a better place, well, then there’s a good reason for it. That is exactly what the heroes of an increasingly large number foolish Westerners are aiming for.

Meanwhile, Israelis see themselves “as having a role in the world to repair the world,” says Chemi Peres, managing partner and co-founder of the venture capital firm Pitango, chairman of the Peres Center for Peace and Innovation, and son of the late Israeli Prime Minister Shimon Peres.

“We call it tikkun olam, and here at the Peres Center we have a mission statement, which is to introduce innovation and new ideas and new technologies, not only for ourselves but to solve the problems of the world.”

Islam is part of that world, but too many of its adherents live to do just the opposite. 

— Written by the I&I Editorial Board

[readyforevolution]

Facts about Liberia That Makes it Intriguing🇱🇷🇱🇷

1. Liberia is Africa's oldest republic founded in 1821 and the second oldest Black republic in the world after Haiti.

2. Liberia was created for freed slaves and was one of the only two African countries not subjected to colonialism.

3. Liberia has produced the only African to win the FIFA best player of the year.

4. Liberia's Ellen Johnson Sirleaf was the first woman to be elected an head of state in an African country, she won the Nobel Peace Prize 2011

5. Liberia is a Latin word which means 'Land of the Free'.

6. Liberia's capital Monrovia, was named after James Monroe, the fifth president of the USA and supporter of the colonisation of Liberia by freed slaves.

7. Liberia’s flag is modelled on the USA’s. A single star symbolises Liberia’s status as the only independent Western-style state in Africa. The 11 stripes represent the number of men who signed the Liberian Declaration of Independence.

8. Liberia has one of the youngest populations in the world with the median age of its citizens just 18 years.

9. According to Liberia's constitution, you have to be Black to be a citizen.

10. Liberia has her airline bànned from all European countries.

11. In 1960 Liberia became the first black African country to be elected to the Security Council of the United Nations.

Guys let's get our YouTube channel (YT: Historical Africa) to 80k subscribers. Kindly click on the link to subscribe. 🙏 https://youtube.com/c/HistoricalAfrica

[ralofofriverwoods]

I love how people put stuff in children's learning material and just expect them to know what the fuck you're talking about

'this person won a nobel peace prize!! Isn't that so cool and indicative of their importance!! And ooh ooh!! This person won TWO nobel peace prizes!!!' and the kids are just sitting there like huh. Wat da hell is that. Like candy or extra recess time or??

[crepes-suzette-373]

You know, I really have a lot of questions about MADS, and I hope as the Egghead arc continues, we will get answers eventually

Back in the Emotionless Excursion cover story, they first show MADS being sponsored by Du Feld as being a "research lab for peace", but it was followed by an image of the MADS group members absolutely looking like they're the mafia. Okay, so it's reasonable that we might then assume it was just a "cover" or an ironic label, and that MADS is actually an evil mad scientist lab.

Then there's the image with Caesar, Queen, and Judge that was labeled as "Mass Production of Deadly Weapons", and they seem to be actually making crazy evil shit. That checks out, this whole mess looks totally evil.

However, then Vegapunk made what was almost a more advanced version of Dr Hiruluk's "sakura" that actually makes flowers for real instead of just an illusion of sakura by turning the snow pink.

That's... not deadly at all. It actually "stops violence", because it turns bullets and gunpowder into flowers, rendering them useless. It even won him a "Peace Prize", even though the prize's name is somewhat ironically called "Evil".

The prize's name is イベル Iberu. The joke is that this alludes to "Nobel" ノーベル Nooberu, but also that "Iberu" happens to be the Japanese reading for the English word Evil. Romanised as Ibel in translations.

Anyway. After that, there's that scene of Vegapunk being summoned by the elders. And now that we've actually met Vegapunk, he wasn't evil or anything. He just a kinda-kooky, but otherwise nice old man.

So... What's happening here? Was Vegapunk just a chill scientist the whole time that's forced to work by the World Government, and it's just his assistants(?) who are absolutely psycho? So what's with the gun in that first pic???

[home2venus]

LOVE IS A SINKING SHIP

── ˖✮⋆˙꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ jungkook x han so-hee ˒˓ seven music video universe  summary. a missing scene from the seven music video, from the perspective of han so-hee, firmly in denial. genre/tags. post-break up, getting back together, pining, accidental confessions, humor, incredibly whipped jungkook ─ 3.9k words ─ this is han so-hee's perspective of my other seven fic! read them here ⋆｡°༄˖°.🪐

Han So-hee knows what love is, and she knows for a fact that love is not found in a laundromat.

She just truly, desperately, wildly wants and needs Jeon Jungkook to get that through his head before he convinces her otherwise. That man is really too persuasive for his own good, and Han So-hee does not want to bend on this issue.

Jungkook, however, seems to have other plans.

“Can you leave me alone?”

“I love you.”

“Like, for one second, that’s all I’m asking. One second, I promise, after one singular second you can go back to bothering me, but like— One second, I feel like one second isn’t so much to ask. Just don’t talk to me, don’t say a single word, it’s really not so hard.”

“I love you,” he says again, and So-hee just sighs. Jungkook is kicking his legs back and forth, smiling at her hopefully like a child. Because, honestly, he might as well be one. Even at 25 years old, he acts like she used to when she went to the laundromat with her mother as a child. Looking at him again, with his hoodie slipping off one shoulder and his wide, doe-like, brown eyes staring at her pleadingly, she decides that he was far worse than her as a child, because she can’t remember ever being this annoying.

“So-hee,” Jungkook whines, grabbing at her sleeve as she turns from him, “I love you.”

So-hee, instead of looking at him, resolutely declares to herself that the moment she gets home she’s calling her mother to apologize for ever behaving slightly similar to the way he is right now. Her mother deserves ten awards, maybe a nobel peace prize, and, at the very least, ten winning lottery tickets.

Jungkook is her boyfriend, or he used to be her boyfriend before she wisened up and figured out he was no good. He’s pretty, and sweet, and fairly smart on the occasions where he uses whatever brain he has in there. He’s so funny that she has to sometimes grind her teeth together and zone out to keep from laughing or smiling, because to give in to his jokes means he has won. But he’s an asshole: an immature, reckless asshole that So-hee should want, does want, nothing to do with. So, she broke up with him, and that should’ve been the end of it.

It’s been two months since they broke up, and So-hee is still getting used to an empty apartment where he used to be. He didn’t live there, he had his own place with a couple of his guy friends, but he was over so often that he had carved a permanent place in her home. So-hee can feel the void where he used to be whenever she goes home.

In other news, So-hee has been spending a lot of time out of the house. Online forums say fresh air is the best way to get over a breakup, so it’s not like she’s being unhealthy. She’s fine. She’s so fucking fine.

So-hee takes the clothes out of the dryer and slams them into the empty laundry basket.

She’s fine.

When So-hee turns around to load the rest of her dirty clothes into the washing machine, Jungkook is still there. He’s quieter, not chatty or pleading like he’s been the whole time after she broke things off. He’s just... quiet; Maybe even introspective. He’s just looking at her with an unreadable stare. And he is not leaving. He sits on the washing machine and kicks his feet as she throws more clothing in, not even looking at it. She knows they won’t wash as well if she doesn’t shake them out, turn them the right side in, but the risk of Jungkook seeing something of his in her basket of dirty laundry is too high to risk. So-hee’s fingers catch on a loose string, and she knows from just the feeling of the fabric that it’s the old college sweatshirt she never gave back, the embroidered logo of white flames through a red circle faded and worn with time. She shoves it into the machine and then buries it underneath her own clothing. 

So-hee can almost feel his stare, even though she knows it’s not actually possible. Something about his presence is heavy. Something about his presence makes her feel something complicated, and complicated is very rarely something So-hee likes to deal with. She sighs loudly, and gives him a pointed glare, and he raises his hands placatingly; an easy grin replacing the contemplative look he was wearing just moments prior.

“Shut up,” she says childishly, and she does not notice the way his eyes gleam at the recognition or the way his posture straigtens as she notices him. The whole reason why they broke up is because he never cared, because he was too reckless and messy and indifferent. He didn’t care about anything, and in the beginning it was fun, because he knew how to have fun and keep the fun going. But they’re adults, and going with the flow doesn’t buy houses or keep jobs or stay stable. 

“I didn’t say a word,” he says with an audible smile, and So-hee hates the way he can reduce her of every bit of wit she knows that she has. So-hee’s smarter than this, she knows she is. She’s always been quick with words, and she’s always known how to make her words sharp to a point and sharp as a blade. Jungkook takes that away from her, and the worst thing is that he doesn’t even mean to. So-hee snaps away from him with a roll of her eyes and a grimace —truly not her finest moment— and barely notices the water rising in the building as she grumbles frustrations under her breath. 

So-hee doesn’t notice the water until it’s about waist high, and she can’t see the tops of the washer and dryer units anymore. She swears, and pushes at Jungkook who is saying something that she refuses to listen to. The water pushes them upwards, and a silly, stupid part of her feels like she’s in Titanic; the movie, not the tragedy. Jungkook is still smiling at her, even as the water reaches their chests and they’re practically swimming towards the ceiling. So-hee, because she’s a genius, manages to push at him and the ceiling at the same time. He barely drifts away from her, but the water is reaching their necks, and one of those things is far more pressing than the other. 

As they barely escape the laundromat —through the cieling, of all places, and then through the vents that lead outside— Jungkook is blessedly, strangely silent. He doesn’t talk to So-hee as they escape, just watches her with an unfaltering focus and care. When they finally are on solid ground, soaked in the cool, late night air, he keeps a steady hand on her shoulder. She’s nearly coughing her lungs out, the hand drifts to her back to rub soft, comforting circles. It’s off-putting, because Jungkook shouldn’t have that focus, doesn’t have that focus. He’s messy and careless, and that’s all he is. He can’t be anything else.

He can’t be. 

So-hee has known Jungkook for years, has gone on countless outings alone with him or with his weird, codependent friend group or with his rotation of dogs that he’s always fostering or babysitting or adopting. She knows that he cares about things, that he’s given his whole life to his family and his best friends and his job and his passions. But, she knows Jungkook. She knows that he’s selfish and possessive and impulsive. So-hee knows that he thought he loved her, and So-hee knows that he still thinks he loves her, but So-hee knows better. 

Jungkook dedicates everything in him to what he loves, and he dedicated himself to her. He loves her, according to him, but So-hee knows better because dedication runs out and love runs out and passion runs out. Jungkook is running on empty, and one day he would regret ever loving her, and then where would she be? 

So-hee knows better.

She doesn’t even say goodbye when she leaves for the train. He’s still standing out in the nighttime rain, alone and soaking wet. She doesn’t look him in the eyes when she leaves, and she doesn’t turn around.

So-hee knows better. So-hee knows it’s for the better. She still does not look at Jungkook.

The train ride home is a long and silent one. She checks her twitter feed in an attempt to not make eye contact with any of the other people on the train, who are unsubtly staring at her dripping wet hair and soaked clothing. On the news, there’s a mention of a laundromat flooded by a freak accident, and So-hee catches a glimpse of a photo taken by the on-site reporters. In the background, there’s a man and he looks pathetic and exhausted and sad and determined. So-hee can’t look at him.

So-hee goes home to a pathetic, sad apartment, and she is deeply exhausted. She changes into dry clothes, and pins her hair up, and resolves to take a clean shower and change her sheets tomorrow. She passes out the moment she hits the bed, and she does not dream, because she never does.

She wishes she had, if only to justify the thoughts of Jungkook still remaining when she wakes up in the morning. 

In the quiet light of morning, with music playing softly as she loses a fight with the omelette she’s attempting to make, she realizes that she cares a lot more than she wants to. She realizes that she cares a lot more than she should. It’s a startling realization, if only for how mundane it is. It crosses her mind leisurely, wearing the disguise of something normal, because it is something normal. The thought crosses the streets of her mind hand in hand with I’m hungry and Don’t forget to pick up mom’s perscription later and Is it embarrassing that I still can’t cook eggs. 

I still love him, she thinks, and it’s completely normal. 

I still love him, she thinks, and I still love him so much more than I should.

What makes her uncomfortable isn’t the thought, but the fact that the thought wasn’t uncomfortable. It’s an unsettlingly normal thought to have, like it’s lived inside her long enough to be comfortable, like it’s made a home in her mind. 

What’s uncomfortable is that loving him is a part of her. What’s uncomfortable is that the love she has has settled into her home and her life and her routine. The love settles under her fingernails and in her hair, settles in the cat toys littered around her house and the trinkets that clutter her shelves and tables and workdesk. 

She loved him and she loves him and she misses him. 

In the soft light of morning, So-hee sits on her kitchen counter next to a plate of rapidly cooling eggs. Her legs swing and her cats bat at her socks, meowing and pestering her for food. So-hee doesn’t even look at them, her eyes faraway and staring down at her blindingly bright phone screen. She has a couple missed calls from a number she doesn’t recognize, and eventually just blocked once they started calling well into midnight, and one unread text message from an account she should’ve blocked a long time ago if she had any dignity.

Jungkook: we left our wallets at the laundromat.

So-hee takes a deep breath and steels herself.

So-hee: Thanks, I’ll pick it up there later today.

Jungkook: i dont think thats gonna work

So-hee: Why not?

Jungkook: they gave ur stuff to me bc my wallet was at the top of the basket and they assumed it was mine. the laundromat is still closed, is there anywhere i can meet u to give it back?

Let it be known that, usually, So-hee is a rational woman. Usually, she does not make decisions that will hurt herself, especially not knowingly, and she rarely ever makes rash decisions.

So-hee: Just come to my place to drop it off.

Usually, So-hee is a rational woman. Not always.

Jungkook: really???

So-hee: Do you not remember my address?

Jungkook: no i remember ur address ! i’ll be there in fifteen :)

So-hee: Alright. Drive safely.

So-hee is staring at her phone. So-hee puts her phone down, and does not scream or cry or have any other disproportinate and dramatic reaction. She is so calm and collected and not stressed in any way. So-hee is the most normal, well-adjusted woman in all of South Korea, possibly even the world, and one man will not change that for her. 

To show how well-adjusted she is, she changes her clothes seven times in the mirror, and arranges and disassembles and rearranges a messy bun another fourteen times. On her seventh outfit —a baby tee and low waisted sweatpants with the same fuzzy socks— So-hee turns to see Hammer staring at her judgementally.

“Don’t look at me like that,” So-hee whines, throwing herself dramatically on the bed and burying her face in her hands.

Hammer does not respond, because Hammer is a cat.

“Don’t judge me, Hammer,” So-hee continues, “Not all of us can be nonchalant cool kids, you know?”

Hammer does not know. Hammer wants breakfast, not an existensial crisis.

The doorbell rings, and So-hee does not look up. The doorbell rings again, and it takes a moment, but So-hee flings herself up with wide eyes. She races out of her bedroom, checking herself in the mirror one more time. She looks perfect, because So-hee has always known that she’s gorgeous. But, this time, it’s not about being pretty. It’s about being cool. She slows as she reaches the front door, schooling her face into something that looks effortlessly calm, and opens the door.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, startled and looking slightly embarrassed.

“Hey yourself,” She says back, straight-faced. She’s so fucking cool. She steps back, and gestures for him to come inside. He hesitates, looking at her intently like he hasn’t been begging to be around her for the past month. She’s shocked he didn’t just open the door and sit on the couch all by himself.

“Are you sure?” He asks, and she rolls her eyes fondly.

“I’m always sure,” She says, lying through her teeth, “Anyway, I don’t know how you’d bring my laundry inside without, y’know, stepping inside?” 

“Yeah,” He says, blushy and nervous, “Yeah, you’re right, sorry.” He stumbles through the door like he’s never done it before, like it’s not his thousandth time being in her house. It’s upsettingly endearing, the way that he’s a bumbling fool of a man. 

“I’m always right, it’s nothing to apologize for.” So-hee says, shooting him a smile. She would say that she doesn’t know why she’s bothering to comfort him, but due to previous realizations that day, she thinks she has a pretty strong clue why. It starts with L and ends in oving this stupid idiot to an unhealthy degree. 

He sets the laundry basket down in her living room, all of it dried out from being in police storage overnight as they emptied out everything that was once in the laundromat. It’s wrinkled, and she’ll have to find a new laundromat to rewash and dry everything, but it’s back in her possession. Marsh-ie and Hammer leave their spot at their food dishes and sprint as fast as their kitten legs can carry them to Jungkook, who laughs and crouches down to coddle them with babytalk and pets. So-hee remembers then that she has forgotten to feed them, so she moves over to the kitchen area, still watching him over the counter and thanking the apartment gods that she has one with an open concept kitchen and living space. She pours them both food and water softly, trying not to attract attention from them or Jungkook.

“Hi baby,” He coos, and So-hee flinches at the way she almost responds on instinct to the endearment. She turns quietly, but he’s immersed in Marsh-ie and Hammer’s antics, smiling softly as Marsh-ie bats at his hands and Hammer tries to climb up his back. 

I love you, she almost says. 

“Want some coffee?” She says instead, and he startles. She almost regrets disturbing him, but the cats have already left at the sound of her voice, realizing that breakfast has finally been served. He looks hopeful for a moment, and then deeply, deeply tired.

“I do,” He says glumly, and she furrows her brow in confusion at his downtrodden look.

“...But?” She prompts, and he looks downright murderous to the point that she’s almost worried for herself, before he finally stands up to look at her and his eyes soften to something sweeter. He smiles a smile that looks more like a forced grimace, and shakes his head.

“I’d stay, but the guys have been planning brunch for a while now, and Hobi would kill me if I cancelled on them this short notice,” Jungkook says. So-hee hums thoughtfully, and he looks at her nervously.

“No worries,” she says, “Thanks so much for coming then, if I had known I’d make you late for other plans I wouldn’t have asked.”

“It was my pleasure! The guys know that I’d do whatever you ask, so they won’t mind my lateness” He says with an earnest grin, and the worst part is that So-hee really does believe him. So-hee knows that he doesn’t even realize that what he says would be embarrassing for anyone else to admit, especially to their ex-girlfriend, and she knows that he doesn’t care. So-hee doesn’t understand that confidence, the disregard of any and every social boundary in a pursuit to show love for someone. She does understand the art of changing the subject though.

“Well, still, thanks for that. Have a safe drive over to brunch then, I won’t keep you waiting,” So-hee says, grabbing his jacket off the kitchen stool he draped it over and tossing it over his shoulders as he bends down to say bye to her cats. It’s quiet as Jungkook leaves, only the sound of residual cat purrs and the shuffling of him putting on sneakers. He puts the jacket on more firmly, and smiles hesitantly at her.

“Oh!” She says, and Jungkook takes a step back, eyes wide. He startles easily, So-hee notes absently, I don’t know why he’s so nervous. 

“Yeah?” Jungkook questions tentatively, and she snaps her fingers at him.

“Hobi is the one with a dance studio, right?” She asks, leaning closer.

“Uh, yeah, he is. I didn’t think you remembered that-”

“Of course I remembered, I remember everything you tell me,” she says absently, waving him off as she scrambles around her kitchen for a pen and paper. She’s rummaging through a junk drawer when she calls over to him, “Wait just a second!” Jungkook’s barely paying attention anyway though, his eyes wide and his hand over his mouth as he repeats her words disbelieving under his breath.

“Everything?” He whispers, and she hums in questioning. He goes to ask further, but she shoves a notecard with a phone number and a name on it into his hands.

“If Hobi’s ever looking for a ballet instructor, he can call this number,” So-hee rambles, “It’s one of my cousins on my mom’s side, and she’s such a great dancer that it’s almost maddening. She’s a little annoying, but not terribly so, and she’s such a fantastic teacher-”

“Wait, So-hee-” Jungkook tries, but she’s still talking.

“And if he has any space in that contemporary class, tell him to let me know because my sister has been scrambling for a good dance studio nearby for her daughter.”

“I’ll have to ask Jimin, because he teaches contemporary. But, So-hee-”

“Alright, thanks so much, you’re the best in the world, I literally love you so much.” So-hee says breathlessly, and Jungkook feels just as breathless, the air knocked out of him. His face is a little pale and his hands are a little shaky, and So-hee frowns, lightly putting her fingers on his shoulder. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, “You look a little sick, Jungkook, are you-” 

I literally love you so much. I literally love you so much. 

Oh, fuck.

Jungkook looks at her, and So-hee looks at him, both of them now pale and slightly shaky.

“I-” So-hee starts and then doesn’t finish, the words barely leaving her. Jungkook’s eyes are shiny, and hopeful, and So-hee hates herself for how much she wants to fall into them, into him. She loves him.

So-hee loves Jungkook. So-hee loves Jungkook more than she’s ever loved anything, and that is a big, scary feeling to feel. So-hee’s love could fill an ocean, and that is a big, scary place to be able to fill with love for one man, one person, one anything. 

Love is a big, scary thing.

“I think you should go,” So-hee says, instead of saying any of that. So-hee is a coward.

Jungkook smiles at her, all sad and soft and patient. So-hee hates him. So-hee hates that stupid face and stupid smile and stupid patience that makes her feel cruel and evil and mean. She hates him and she’s terrified of him and she loves him.

“I love you,” Jungkook says, because Jungkook cannot just be reckless and immature because that would be too easy, but he must also be patient and loving and brave. She hums in acknowledgement, and he hesitates for a moment, but he leans in and kisses her right under her eye.

So-hee didn’t even realize she was near tears until right then. She doesn’t say anything, even as he fully walks out the door and slowly shuts it behind him. So-hee can’t even cry. She just stares at the wall and pets her cats and it’s so quiet. So-hee wishes she had begged Jungkook to stay for a few more minutes, if only for the sound of him embarrassingly babytalking her cats could drown out what she hears in her own thoughts. There’s the leftover heat of a kiss right below her eyes, and she wipes harshly at her eyes, partially to clear the tears and partially a futile attempt to remove the sting of what could’ve been, if So-hee stopped being so scared all the time.

In So-hee’s apartment, where a light breeze flutters the curtains but the bright sun warms the floor, So-hee can hear the vivid sounds of an ocean flooding a laundromat and the impossibly clearer sound of her heart breaking on her kitchen floor.

So-hee loves Jungkook, and So-hee is terrified of loving Jungkook, and So-hee hopes that love is not found in a laundromat. Selfishly, So-hee hopes that Jungkook continues to love her and continues to wait for her, and continues to pursue her so that one day, she can love him in a place where she isn’t surrounded by baskets of her dirty laundry.

The dirty laundry, So-hee reminds herself with a glance at the laundry basket sitting innocently by her couch. Jungkook’s sweatshirt lies at the top, next to her wallet and a note in his familar bad handwriting that says ‘I love you.’

I love you, So-hee says back, if only in her own mind.

[revuppowerup]

HAHAHAHA

Mortal human! I bet I can scream louder than you!

Oh, you wanna bet?

Hahaha

Bet!

Rev up! Power up!

Rev up! Power up!

Rev up! Power up!

Rev up! Power up!

Rev up! Power up!

Rev up! Power up!

Rev up! Power up!

Okay, stop..

My ears..

First up I'm the baddest you see

A bad bitch, now beg on your knees!

My boss has got nothing on me!

The best devil, you better agree!

Watch out honey, I'mma saw you in two!

My big chainsaw will be coming through!

We're a duo and a better crew!

Than your single ass

We're better than you!

I've killed 69 billion trillion devils

You can't do math 'cause I'm on a different level

Well I have more cats than you humans can afford!

'Cause you sell yourself with fake bra pads! You whore!

Well at least I'm not obsessed with a bitch that uses you

At least I know what love is!

No you don't! Yes I do!

No you don't! Yes I do!

No you don't! Yes I do!

Wait.. What is love?

Even if we are different breeds

There's nothing better than a killing spree!

When it's us, we make a better team!

We just get what we want!

And we just get what we need!

So many humans filled with greed

But we all just want to be free!

Screw it all, what does it mean to quit?

Together there's no one we can't outwit

Mortal human! I bet I can sing this part better!

Bet?

Bet!

OooOOOOOooo

I said rev up! I said power up!

I said rev up! I said power up!

I said rev up! I said power up!

Okay, too much..

Too much..

That means I win!

Even if we are different breeds

There's nothing better than a killing spree!

When it's us, we make a better team!

We just get what we want!

And we just get what we need!

So many humans filled with greed

But we all just want to be free!

Screw it all, what does it mean to quit?

Together there's no one we can't outwit

Aghh! I'm bored!

You're just a little boy

Have you went through puberty?

God!

Why do you even care?

Are you just obsessed with me?

Well at least I can sing lower than you!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Woah! You sound like a dude!

Does that make you prouder?

I bet I can sing so much higher and louder!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Nope! Yes!

Yes!

Well you're a girl..

Even if we are different breeds

There's nothing better than a killing spree!

When it's us, we make a better team!

We just get what we want!

And we just get what we need!

So many humans filled with greed

But we all just want to be free!

Screw it all, what does it mean to quit?

Together there's no one we can't outwit

Hahaha, you're so stupid!

No, I can't be stupid if I won the nobel peace prize!

You- you didn't even win it yet..

Did so! Did not!

Did so! Did not!

Did so! Did not!

Did so!

Aghh! Shut up!

[mariacallous]

The 2023 Nobel Peace Prize has been awarded to jailed Iranian activist Narges Mohammadi for “her fight against the oppression of women in Iran and her fight to promote human rights and freedom for all,” the Norwegian Nobel Committee announced in Oslo on Friday.

Mohammadi, 51, has been sentenced to more than 30 years in prison, and has been banned from seeing her husband and children. Her name has become synonymous with the battle for human rights in Iran, where nationwide protests broke out last year following the death of Mahsa Amini. Amini was a 22-year-old woman who had been taken into custody by the regime’s notorious morality police.

In awarding the prize to Mohammadi, the Nobel Committee said it “recognizes the hundreds of thousands of people who in the preceding year have demonstrated against the theocratic regimes’ policies of discrimination and oppression targeting women.”

“Her brave struggle has come with tremendous personal costs. Altogether, the regime has arrested her 13 times, convicted her five times, and sentenced her to a total of 31 years in prison, and 154 lashes,” Norwegian Nobel Committee chair Berit Reiss-Andersen said at the announcement ceremony.

“Ms. Mohammadi is still in prison as I speak,” Reiss-Andersen added.

Mohammadi said she will continue striving for “democracy, freedom, and equality” in a message shared with CNN by her family on Wednesday, to be released in case she won the prize.

It is not clear whether Mohammadi knows about her win. Her friends and family told CNN that those detained in Iran’s notorious Evin Prison are not allowed to receive calls on Thursdays and Fridays.

In the statement, Mohammadi said she would stay in Iran to continue her activism “even if I spend the rest of my life in prison.”

“Standing alongside the brave mothers of Iran, I will continue to fight against the relentless discrimination, tyranny, and gender-based oppression by the oppressive religious government until the liberation of women,” she said.

Taghi Rahmani, Mohammadi’s husband, told CNN that the prize is “for all the people of Iran.” Rahmani, a fellow activist and former political prisoner who served a total of 14 years in regime jails, lives in exile in France with their twin children.

“This prize is not just for Narges; it is for all the people of Iran. A movement in which Iranian women and men took to the streets, stood for months, and fought to show that they will continue to struggle for democracy and civil equality,” Rahmani said.

In a separate statement to CNN, Mohammadi’s family said: “Although the years of her absence can never be compensated for us, the reality is that the honor of recognizing Narges’ efforts for peace is a source of solace for our indescribable suffering. “It has been more than eight and a half years since she has seen her children, and she has not heard their voices for over a year. All of this signifies what she has endured on the path to realizing her aspirations. Therefore, for us, who know that the Nobel Peace Prize will aid her in achieving her goals, this day is a blessed day,” the family statement added.

Incarcerated, but not silenced

Despite being jailed, not even the dark cells of Tehran’s Evin Prison have crushed Mohammadi’s powerful voice.

In an audio recording from inside the jail, shared with CNN ahead of Friday’s announcement, Mohammadi, is heard leading the chants of “woman, life, freedom” – the slogan of the uprising sparked last year by Amini’s death. Amini was arrested for allegedly not wearing her headscarf properly.

The recording is interrupted by a brief automated message – “This is a phone call from Evin Prison” – as the women are heard singing a Farsi rendition of “Bella Ciao,” the 19th-century Italian folk song that became a resistance anthem against fascism and has been adopted by Iran’s freedom movement.

“This period was and still is the era of greatest protest in this prison,” Mohammadi told CNN in written responses to questions submitted through intermediaries.

Mohammadi was one of 351 candidates for this year’s award – the second-highest number in the history of the Nobels. She became the 19th woman to win the award in more than 120 years of the prize.

Oleksandra Matviichuk, a Ukrainian human rights lawyers who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2022, commended the committee’s decision to honor Mohammadi.

“We live in a very interconnected world. Right now, people in Iran are fighting for freedom. Our future depends on their success,” Matviichuk posted on the social media platform X, formerly known as Twitter.

At Friday’s news conference announcing the award, Reiss-Andersen said: “Only by embracing equal rights for all can the world achieve the fraternity between nations that Alfred Nobel sought to promote,”

“The award to Narges Mohammadi follows a long tradition in which the Norwegian Nobel Committee has awarded the Peace Prize to those working to advance social justice, human rights and democracy. These are important preconditions for lasting peace,” she added.

‘Woman, life, freedom’

Henrik Urdal, director of the Peace Research Institute Oslo, described Mohammadi’s win as “a tremendous achievement for women’s rights in Iran.”

“Women in the country have been fighting for equality and freedom for generations, and the death of Mahsa Amini became a catalyst against oppression and violence,” Urdal said in a statement to CNN.

“Today’s laureate, unfairly jailed in Tehran, sends a powerful message to the leaders of Iran that women’s rights are fundamental everywhere in the world,” he said.

Mohammadi’s recognition comes after a year of huge upheaval in Iran, sparked by Amini’s death, which swelled into nationwide protests lasting months. Reiss-Andersen described the unrest as “the largest political demonstrations against Iran’s theocratic regime since it came to power in 1979.”

They were met by a brutal government crackdown. “More than 500 demonstrators were killed. Thousands were injured, including many who were blinded by rubber bullets fired by the police. At least 20,000 people were arrested and held in custody,” Reiss-Andersen said.

Last month marked the one-year anniversary of Amini’s death. Video obtained by CNN showed further demonstrations throughout multiple cities in Iran, including capital Tehran, Mashad, Ahvaz, Lahijan, Arak and the Kurdish city of Senandaj.

Many of the protesters shouted “Woman, Life, Freedom,” and others chanted slogans against Iranian Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei.

The long road to the Nobel

Mohammadi, who studied for a degree in physics at Imam Khomeini International University in the 1990s, initially worked as an engineer, while writing columns for reformist Iranian newspapers, Berit Reiss-Andersen said at Friday’s news conference.

In 2003, she joined the Defenders of Human Rights Center in Iran, an organization founded by the Nobel Peace Prize laureate Shirin Ebadi.

Mohammadi was arrested for the first time in 2011 and convicted in part because of her membership of the Defenders of Human Rights Center. After being released on bail two years later, Mohammadi began to campaign against the use of the death penalty.

“Iran has long been among the countries that execute the highest proportion of their inhabitants annually,” the committee acknowledged. Since January last year, more than 860 prisoners have been punished by death in the country.

Mohammadi was arrested and sentenced again in 2015 for her activism against capital punishment. But her work continued from inside Evin, as she began to oppose human rights abuses committed against political prisoners.

CNN reported last year on how Iran’s security forces used rape to quell the protests that broke out after the death of Amini.

With media access inside Iran severely constrained, CNN went to the region near Iraq’s border with Iran, interviewing eyewitnesses who had left the country and verifying accounts from survivors and sources both in and outside Iran, to corroborate several reports of sexual violence against protesters.

One Kurdish-Iranian woman, whom CNN is calling Hana for her safety, says she both witnessed and suffered sexual violence while detained. “There were girls who were sexually assaulted and then transferred to other cities,” she said.

Iranian officials did not respond to CNN’s request for comment on the alleged abuses.

Since the anniversary of Amini’s death, Iran has continued its crackdown on women’s rights. Its parliament passed draconian new legislation in September, imposing much harsher penalties on women who breach hijab laws. The so-called “hijab bill,” which will be enacted for a three-year trial period, sets out various regulations around the wearing of clothing, which if violated can carry up to 10 years in prison.

UN experts said the new law could amount to “gender apartheid.”

“Authorities appear to be governing through systemic discrimination with the intention of suppressing women and girls into total submission,” the experts said in a statement.