he is absolutely right

Violence, Abusers, and Protest

My grandfather was a generally peaceful man. He was a gardener, an EMT, a town selectman, and an all around fantastic person. He would give a friend - or a stranger - the shirt off his back if someone needed it. He also taught me some of the most important lessons I ever learned about violence, and why it needs to exist.


When I was five, my grandfather and grandmother discovered that my rear end and lower back were covered in purple striped bruises and wheals. They asked me why, and I told them that Tom, who was at that time my stepfather, had punished me. I don’t remember what he was punishing me for, but I remember the looks on their faces. 

When my mother and stepfather arrived, my grandmother took my mother into the other room. Then my grandfather took my stepfather into the hallway. He was out of my eye line, but I saw through the crack in the door on the hinge side. He slammed my stepfather against the wall so hard that the sheet rock buckled, and told him in low terms that if he ever touched me again they would never find his body. 

I absolutely believed that he would kill my stepfather, and I also believed that someone in the world thought my safety was worth killing for. 

In the next few years, he gave me a few important tips and pointers for dealing with abusers and bullies. He taught me that if someone is bringing violence to you, give it back to them as harshly as you can so they know that the only response they get is pain. He taught me that guns are used as scare tactics, and if you aren’t willing to accept responsibility for mortally wounding someone, you should never own one. He told me that if I ever had a gun aimed at me, I should accept the possibility of being shot and rush the person, or run away in a zig-zag so they couldn’t pick me off. He taught me how to break someone’s knee, how to hold a knife, and how to tell if someone is holding a gun with intent to kill. He was absolutely right, and he was one of the most peaceful people I’ve ever met. He was never, to my knowledge, violent with anyone who didn’t threaten him or his family. Even those who had, he gave chances to, like my first stepfather. 

When I was fourteen, a friend of mine was stalked by a mutual acquaintance. I was by far younger than anyone else in the social crowd; he was in his mid twenties, and the object of his “affection” was as well. Years before we had a term for “Nice Guy” bullshit, he did it all. He showed up at her house, he noted her comings and goings, he observed who she spent time with, and claimed that her niceness toward him was a sign that they were actually in a relationship.

This came to a head at a LARP event at the old NERO Ware site. He had been following her around, and felt that I was responsible for increased pressure from our mutual friends to leave her alone. He confronted me, her, and a handful of other friends in a private room and demanded that we stop saying nasty things about him. Two of our mutual friends countered and demanded that he leave the woman he was stalking alone. 

Stalker-man threw a punch. Now, he said in the aftermath that he was aiming for the man who had confronted him, but he was looking at me when he did it. He had identified me as the agent of his problems and the person who had “turned everyone against him.” His eyes were on mine when the punch landed. He hit me hard enough to knock me clean off my feet and I slammed my head into a steel bedpost on the way down.

When I shook off the stunned confusion, I saw that two of our friends had tackled him. I learned that one had immediately grabbed him, and the other had rabbit-punched him in the face. I had a black eye around one eyebrow and inner socket, and he was bleeding from his lip. 

At that time in my life, unbeknownst to anyone in the room, I was struggling with the fact that I had been molested repeatedly by someone who my mother had recently broken up with. He was gone, but I felt conflicted and worthless and in pain. I was still struggling, but I knew in that moment that I had a friend in the world who rabbit-punched a man for hitting me, and I felt a little more whole.

Later that year, I was bullied by a girl in my school. She took special joy in tormenting me during class, in attacking me in the hallways, in spreading lies and asserting things about me that were made up. She began following me to my locker, and while I watched the clock tick down, she would wait for me to open it and try to slam my hand in it. She succeeded a few times. I attempted to talk to counselors and teachers. No one did anything. Talking to them made it worse, since they turned and talked to her and she called me a “tattle” for doing it. I followed the system, and it didn’t work. 

I remembered my friend socking someone in the face when he hit me. I recalled what my grandfather had taught me, and decided that the next time she tried, I would make sure it was the last. I slammed the door into her face, then shut her head in the base of my locker, warping the aluminum so badly that my locker no longer worked. She never bothered me again. 

Violence is always a potential answer to a problem. I believe it should be a last answer - everything my grandfather taught me before his death last year had focused on that. He hadn’t built a bully or taught me to seek out violence; he taught me how to respond to it.

I’ve heard a lot of people talk recently about how, after the recent Nazi-punching incident, we are in more danger because they will escalate. That we will now see more violence and be under more threat because of it. I reject that. We are already under threat. We are already being attacked. We are being stripped of our rights, we are seeing our loved ones and our family reduced to “barely human” or equated with monsters because they are different. 

To say that we are at more risk now than we were before a Nazi got punched in the face is to claim that abusers only hurt you if you fight back. Nazis didn’t need a reason to want to hurt people whom they have already called inhuman, base, monsters, thugs, retards, worthless, damaging to the gene pool, and worthy only of being removed from the world. They were already on board. The only difference that comes from fighting back is the intimate knowledge that we will not put up with their shit.

And I’m just fine with that.

Can we talk about how good of an actor Mark is for a second?

Mark played all of his characters absolutely flawlessly. Honestly. Maybe there were some very small nitpicky things that could’ve been better but in the end, he played each of his characters so well. 

But when all is said and done, I commend him on his acting because of THIS:

He goes from looking distraught, absolutely numb and heartbroken and altogether just sad

To this. This absolute fury as if he could murder a man right then and there by simply giving them this look. This look of anger that makes it seem as though he’s about to explode. 

In one. Goddamned. Second.

Granted, he did so much good acting in this series; There were so many moments where it didn’t feel like Mark, it felt like the Colonel. Or it felt like Damien. But it didn’t feel like Mark. (I love it when actors can do that tbh). 

But in this moment, you can see him transform from who he is into Darkiplier. He captured that. Right here in this one second clip. With one look at the camera.

Mark Fischbach, to you I say two things:

1) This was astonishing. This entire series had your whole fandom freaking out and theory-writing for four days straight, and honestly there are probably still going to be theories even after this. I hope desperately that you love what you gave us just as much as we did because this was amazing. 

2) YOU NEED TO ACT MORE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT I WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS SERIES AND HOW WELL IT WAS PUT TOGETHER. JUST SAYING. 

(And a LARGE thank you to Teamiplier because none of this would’ve happened without you guys)

Sorry for the vent but honestly I can’t be the only one who thinks this, right? 

@lum1natrix @ask-theforgottenone @darkstiella @markiplier @whokilledmarkiplier

The whole “Lucius was abusive with Draco” thing has always been so funny to me. Really, I don’t get how people are able to believe something so silly. 

Seriously, guys, wake the fuck up, if Lucius had been abusive with his son, he wouldn’t have been a part of the series. You know why? Because Narcissa “If you attack my son again I shall ensure that is the last thing you ever do” Malfoy would have killed him ten times in a row. 

anyone else still sometimes catch themselves thinking about how after all those years of idolizing dave strider and after all that time in the void session wondering and anticipating and nervously awaiting this theoretical possibility that he might get the chance to meet him, dirk finally fucking sits down with dave one on one hours from the final battle and like wow fucking surprise motherfucker

he gets to find out his literal worst fears were ACTUALLY true! the version of him that dave knew actually did, in fact, do his level best to ruin dave’s life and was an abusive, toxic influence from day one and throughout to the point where dave can’t even look at him without flinching! 

this coming at a time when dirk is already horrendously low on himself, his relationship with Jake literally just blew up like 3 hours ago and if the AR thing went down even remotely the same way there was also that and holy hell dude what a time to be informed about the existence of Bro Strider. Dirk is sitting there thinking he was a toxic influence to Jake from moment one and probably all of his friends the whole time and here Dave is confirming everything from a parallel perspective? 

you can just see this horrible gut clenching moment when this utterly defeated Dirk just meekly accepts that this other version of himself is reflective of his true innermost self and has justifiably ruined any chance he ever had of impressing or even knowing Dave

– and then you see Dave just immediately lift it off him, even get kinda angry at him for having the audacity to even try accepting it that way, you can FEEL Dave’s fucking confusion because he went in guns blazing expecting a confrontation with someone as impossible and inscrutable as Bro was. Dave went in expecting to punch a brick wall and get nowhere, and instead he got Dirk “you’re absolutely right and I’m so fucking sorry I ruined your life” Strider 

and from Dirk’s pov, listening to this, watching this, having this realization that this dave isn’t an untouchable, aloof, mysterious and mythical heroic figure of legend at all, but that only makes him MORE worthy of idolization in all the ways that genuinely matter – and simultaneously thinking that he’s already sabotaged himself out of the chance to know him at all.

It’s like, god, you know those hyperrealistic nightmares people have sometimes that are so fucking scary because they’re indistinguishable from real life, the ones where after you wake up it takes a long time for the understanding that it was actually just a dream to hit you and then you want to cry with relief? 

For Dirk this had to have been so much like that, the whiplash between being 100% sure that Dave was just going to say what he needed to say and then never speak to him again (and knowing Dirk would have considered it completely justified and never questioned his right to do so jesus christ) followed IMMEDIATELY by Dave just being like no you don’t get it, THIS you, this version of you, what I am looking for deep down in my fucking SOUL is for this you that you are right now to be a person that I can have in my life to tell me that I’m okay, that you’re okay, that WE’RE okay – and after fifteen minutes talking to you I can already immediately tell that you ARE that person. 

Dirk’s friends were always only interested in denying the possibility that Dirk could ever truly become a monster, they could never have possibly understood just how DARK Dirk is at his most self destructive, and that’s part of why their reassurances were always hollow for him – they didn’t GET IT, right, they never could have followed the rabbit hole all the way down, so what did they know? But this guy, Dave Strider, has literally seen Dirk at his worst, has lived through the actual reality of the worst things living inside the full-picture potential of Dirk Strider, has dealt with that to great personal detriment and is fucking STILL sitting here telling him “I can tell that you are different, I can tell that you are better, and I am willing to trust you and help you to become a better person than the guy I knew because at the end of the fucking day, you are too important to me to give up on”

like yeah confronting dirk with all of that was what dave needed absolutely but BEING confronted and ultimately forgiven by dave was what dirk needed too, just as much

in conclusion homestuck is good

Au where Jack didn’t go to Samwell and after a few years and a cup with the Falconers he gets traded to a team in Canada, so now he lives around 2-3 hours from his parents.

Meanwhile Bitty graduates and is hired by Alicia Zimmermann to be her assistant, partly because he was a Samwell alumni but also because he was super sweet and brought a pie to the interview.

Bob tried to poach him within a week, but Bitty thought he was only joking. So did a lot of the retired hockey players once they tasted the pies including Mario. Alicia doesn’t allow Bitty alone with Bob or his friends anymore.

Which is why she made Jack promise to stick to him like glue during a charity event she won’t be able to attend, but that Bitty will be at.

“Jack, Eric is the most efficient and pleasant assistant I’ve ever had. He’s also charming, hard working and discreet, and when I had the flu last month he made me go home to rest and brought me chicken soup on his day off. If your dad or his friends try to take him from me again, I can’t be responsibly for my actions.“

This is how Jack somehow ends up playing interference and trying to distract Bitty from talking to anybody at the charity event.

And wow ok this isn’t exactly unpleasant and Bitty is gorgeous and funny, and played hockey.

Bitty is in the middle of trying to explain how increasing his social media would be beneficial, and how he could use his platform for good when Jack sort of blurts out.

"Do you wanna get coffee?”

And Bitty paused, looks at him and smiles, “sure! I’d be happy to go over everything with you again over coffee.”

Jack is too flustered to explain that was a very lame attempt to ask him out, so he goes along with the work orientated coffee situation with the intention of maybe asking him properly afterwards.

Of course, then shenanigans occur where Alicia thinks Jack is now trying to steal Bitty to be his assistant and casually invites herself over for the coffee, so obvs Jack doesn’t ask Bitty then.

“I trusted you,” she says very dramatically when he comes over for dinner that week. “How could you be trying to take my assistant?”

“I am not trying to offer him a job,” Jack groans dramatically, “I’m trying to ask him out!”

Alicia paused, considers this and does a complete 180.

“Jack! This is an amazing idea! I fully support this, oh I can’t believe I crashed your date.”

“It wasn’t a date,” mumbles Jack.

“Ok, we need a plan. You need to woo Eric, he’d be such a wonderful son in law.”

“Maman!”

Meanwhile Bob is quietly watching this whole exchange and making his own plan. He absolutely supports Jack’s interest in Bitty, and Alicia is right he’d be a wonderful son in law.

But also Bob does need an assistant since he can’t seem to keep one for more than 2 months at a time, so he’s now planning to steal Bitty while his wife is distracted playing matchmaker.

Bitty had no idea what’s going on, he just wants to continue working for Alicia since she’s so nice and amazing, save enough money to open his own bakery and try not to let in on the fact he has a massive crush on Jack.

I mean, how unprofessional would dating the boss son would look!?

No, he’s going to keep things strictly professional because that’s who he is, a professional who totally doesn’t have the hots for the son of Alicia Zimmermann.

oh, shit, people actually asked me to follow up on Preaching The Good Word of A Functional Alignment System, okay

i hope you people know what you’re unleashing here

(whole thing prompted by this right here, notably including the tag #unpopular opinion: the definition of lawful and chaotic has been thoroughly twisted over the years since od&d)

So some of you (the ones who didn’t request this) might be wondering: “Alterz, why would you want to go back to the old alignment method? If people generally agree on the new alignment definitions then why confuse things by trying to change them? Is this just some old system nostalgia?”

Well 1) I’m too young by far for old system nostalgia but more importantly 2) people don’t? agree????? on the alignments???????

And that’s a problem, because the whole point of the alignments is to give some rough guidelines on how any given character is likely to act. It should be inarguable. The very fact that people can have arguments over what an alignment is means that the system has failed.

If you look in the alignment section on the more recent D&D editions, they literally have to go into detail on each alignment to explain what each one means. Worse still, for a system theoretically set up as a gradient, the different alignments are basically buckets and it gets really confusing if a character doesn’t neatly fit into one of those buckets.

Some examples from characters I have actually played: a mercenary who I labeled as neutral because I could make equally compelling arguments for why he should be lawful neutral, chaotic neutral, neutral good, and neutral evil. A hermit who at any given time was chaotic neutral or neutral good, but could never reliably be described as chaotic good.

Under the system I’m about to provide you, the mercenary is inarguably chaotic neutral and the hermit is unambiguously lawful good. End of sentence, all cleared up.

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Bob Harper had a heart attack.  Now leave fat people alone.

Bob Harper, a former trainer on the Biggest Loser, has been one of the fittest men on television for over a decade.  He had a massive heart attack a couple of weeks ago and was hospitalized for eight days.

Bob Harper – a fitness guru who’s the host of “The Biggest Loser” – suffered a heart attack that left him unconscious for 2 days.

Harper tells us he was working out in a NYC gym 2 weeks ago when he collapsed. A doctor who was also working out administered CPR and used paddles to keep Bob alive.

The 51-year-old was taken to the hospital and says he woke up 2 days later. He was hospitalized for 8 days and is still in NYC – he lives in L.A. – because his doctors have not cleared him to fly.

(cont. TMZ)

Heart disease and heart attacks run in Bob Harper’s family and he says it’s all genetics.  I’m sure he’s absolutely right, but why are we okay agreeing with a fit man who says his heart attack was genetics while we view fat people who say “it’s genetics” with such disdain?

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anonymous asked:

Woah! Christopher Nolan was there????

He absolutely was. Standing right behind me chatting with Jeff. So many people were there – I’m sure I didn’t even see all of them. James Corden was there with his family including his son. Cameron Crowe, Jeff Bhasker, Irving Azoff, Xander (ew), Ben Winston… I’m sure other people as well.

Let Me Show You

Author’s Note: I don’t where this came from but I’ve had this scenario in my head for days and I just had to write it. Sorry if there are any typos. I just wrote this on my phone in fit of passion. Also, I just started watching Hemlock grove so idk if I captured Roman’s character as well as I wanted, but oh well. Forgive me.

Rating: mature

Warnings: smut for smut’s sake



You were frustrated. You weren’t even convinced the word “frustrated” really encompassed the rage you felt towards yourself at this particular moment. It’s been awhile since your hands were able to get you off the way they used to. Recently, every time you were in the mood and you let your fingers slip down to your most sensitive spots, you would end up completely unsatisfied. No amount of flicks, tugs, or circular motions were enough to get you to the peek that you were desperately aching for. So it’s not even a surprise that you find yourself, once again, on your back and on the verge of tears.

It was a warm Saturday afternoon and you had the house completely to yourself. You thought that today would finally be the day you could reach that sweet high you’ve been craving. There was nothing pressing on your mind, no distractions, but after two hours of scrolling through endless porn videos and conjuring up every fantasy you ever had, it was still utterly pointless. So as you lay completely bare on your bed, throwing a tantrum, you were suddenly jolted from your thoughts by the doorbell. So with a huff, you pull yourself together enough to drag yourself to your front door.

And there he was.

The human embodiment of the sexual frustrations that have been pent up inside you in the form of a 6’4 man with the face sculpted by the gods themselves.

“What do you want Roman?” You say completely irritated. He was the absolute last person you wanted to see right now, especially now that the unstoppable throbbing between your legs somehow intensified even more since you left your room.

“Well, someone’s clearly happy to see me.” Roman teased, the corner of his full lips tugged into the infamous smirk that made every female within a ten-mile radius swoon. He pushed past you, and into your living room. The smell of his expensive designer cologne filled your lungs causing your eyes to drop for a second before looking back at him. He was completely unaware of the effect he had on you, but he could tell there was something off about you. Your breathing was heavier than usual and you were wearing a silk robe in the middle of the afternoon.

“So, what were you up to before I got here?” Roman asked as he circled mindlessly around the couch. Any other time you would be completely thrilled that he had come to you to spend his free time. But today was not one of those days. “Look Roman if you just want to shoot the shit, we do that another time. I’m busy,” you said bluntly. Roman spun around on his heels. He wasn’t used to you acting so unwelcoming, usually, you were the first person he could go to if he just needed someone to listen to him. He stepped up to you, so close his chest was almost next to yours. He took one of his long fingers and grazed it gracefully across your cheek. His big green eyes looking down at you, as if he’s never truly looked at you before.

“You know you can tell me anything. I’ve trusted you with more than anyone should. Let me be here for you.” He whispered quietly. You never felt so embarrassed in your whole life. Roman was here for you, willing to be your confidant, and the only reason you kept barking at him was because you couldn’t get yourself off.

“Roman, please. I can’t talk to you about this” you told him, backing away from him. However, he was able to grab onto your arm and bring you back into his space. Once again locking eyes. “I said anything,” he repeated slowly. Not being able to handle the intensity of his gaze, you looked down and whispered something he wasn’t able to catch. He leaned down, his ear now closer to your lips. “Come again?”

“God Damn it, Roman! I can’t get myself off, ok!” You yell at him. He shakes his head and you notice that he’s chuckling. “Are you laughing at me? See this is why I shouldn’t tell you shit. Everything’s a joke to yo-“ you were cut off by a swift movement. Before you were able to follow him, Roman has your back pushed against his chest and he begins kissing your temple. “Let me show you” he whispered. “I can help.” He pushed your hair away from your neck, tracing the length of it with his fingers. “Please?” He begged. Having little self-restraint, and feeling tired of losing the endless battle with your body, you willingly accept his offers.

He takes your hand and leads you to your bedroom. Once there he kisses your hand before promising to return. You start pacing as you wait, wondering if this was a terrible idea and if an orgasm was really worth sacrificing your friendship over. But when he comes back to your room, carrying the full-length mirror from the bathroom, you were intrigued. He gently places it in front of your bed.

“Come here,” he says softly. You did as he asks and drags his hand from your collarbone and up your neck, forcing you to look up at him. He captures your lips in a kiss. His lips were so warm and soft that you could feel yourself melting in his arms. You feel his other hand move down to the tie of your robe, undoing it swiftly, and letting the silky black material fall off your body. He breaks the kiss the look down at you before looking back up at you through his thick lashes.

“A body like yours should never go unsatisfied.” His compliment made your heart race and you were more eager than ever to get his hands on you. You wasted no time pushing off his blazer and untucking his white v neck from his slacks. You loved the way he dressed. He was the perfect combination of sexy, classy and dangerous. But as of right now, all you wanted was to see these designer clothes littered across your hardwood floors. Once he was completely bare, he took the time to take off his newest watch, an investment you couldn’t even imagine making.

“Don’t want to get this wet.” He explained, placing the piece with his ring on the dresser. Then turned back to face her. And you couldn’t help but moan out loud at the sight. He was flawless. Every part of him was better than the fantasies you created in your head. “I want you, Roman. God, I want you.” You confessed. You started kissing down the smooth planes of his chest, lowering yourself with every peck. But before you could reach the place you wanted to go the most, Roman stopped you.

“I’m here for you.” He reminded you. Taking your hand and led you down to the floor. He moved your bodies so that his back was against the end of the bed, and your back was placed against his chest. He shifted beneath you slipping his long legs beneath yours and opened your legs. Looking into the mirror in front of you, you were displayed perfectly for him.

“I want you to watch me. You need to learn how to take care of this pretty little pussy of yours” he whispered into your ears. His fingers traced the outline of your lips and you let the long digits slipped through. “There’s a good girl.” He removed his fingers and brought them down your nipple. Circling around it so lightly, it almost tickled before roughly pulling on it, cause you to let out a gasp. He smiled at you through the reflection before continuing his ministrations. He lazily moved downwards until he got to where you really needed him. You were rolling your hips against him, not being able to sit still with his teasing. His fingers dragged slowly up from your wet opening to your clit. Then he starts circling around it at a slow and rhythmic pace.

“You like that?” He asked. He got his answer in the form of a soft moan. You reached behind you so you can grab his chocolate locks. Roman start nipping at your neck, finding the sensitive spot beneath your ear quite easily. He slid his other hand away from your nipple and down to your opening. Slipping two of his long and skillful fingers inside you. You had heard the rumors of the magical Roman fingers. But when he curved them to hit your spot so perfectly you almost screamed, you realized they were true.

“Look at yourself. You needed this didn’t you? You’re soaked.” You looked at yourself and you got the first glimpse of what he was capable of. Your whole body was on fire and your heaving chest and erect nipples were showing it. “I’m so close Roman. Please don’t stop.” You begged, grinding yourself harder against his length and his fingers. His legs kept you opened for him as both his hands worked tirelessly to get you off.

“Come on baby. Let it go for me, I know you can.” He encouraged. You reached the hand that wasn’t pulling at his hair to squeeze your own nipple. And with a few more seconds of stimulation your back arched away from his chest as your realase finally came. “Roman!” you screamed in ecstasy. Your orgasm hit you so hard that your whole body started convulsing. Roman’s hand slipped out of you and held you to his chest as his fingers kept circling around your clit, helping your release last as long as possible.

When your body finally stopped shaking, you slumped against his chest. You were completely spent. All those weeks of pent frustrations were finally gone and you never felt more relaxed. You turned back to look at Roman, his beautiful green eyes were completely blown.

“Do you want me to…” you trailed off. He shook his head and embarrassingly looked down at himself. “I already did.” You turned around to see he was right. The evidence was coated aross his chest and your back. You giggled a little. “The great sex god, Roman Godfrey, just came from having a girl grind on him?” You said teasingly. He lifted himself off the floor, shaking his head defensively. “You don’t get it. Watching a girl cum for you is just as sexy as getting blown. Especially if the girl is as gorgeous as you are.”

You made your way to your bed and by the time you got comfortable, Roman was back with a warm towel. Once you two were cleaned up, you guys made yourself comfortable on the bed. And with your head on chest and his hands in your hair, you let a “thank you” slip from your lips. You were so tired, you’re sure you imagined him saying “I’d do anything for you”.

[Major Spoilers] “Follow your true feelings!”: My Musings on P5′s Wildcard Couple

Can we talk about Morgana’s astute observations regarding Akechi’s true feelings for Akira? Can we talk about how (Morgana’s words–not mine) Akechi’s smile when he was hanging out with Akira had been genuine? This boy– who had distanced himself from everyone, who had wrapped himself up in layers upon layers of lies that he wears like a second skin, who had made revenge his one and only goal in life – had also, in spite of himself, serendipitously found kinship in the one boy whom he has decided that he has to kill. 

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blue orchids

hanahaki & soulmate au (reposted)

pairing: jungkook | reader
genre: angst and a sprinkle of fluff
word count: 18.748
warnings: implied smut
disclaimer: I do not own the hanahaki disease concept.

I am immensely thankful for the talented people who have created art / edits for this story: x, x, x, x, x, x ♡ also, make sure to read moonlight (drabble from jimin’s pov) and home after rain (short sequel) after reading this story. enjoy!


You were eighteen years old when Jimin’s name showed up on your hand.

The day is fresh and clear in your memory: early December, the winds stronger than ever as they threatened to pierce through the windows of your room, hints of snowflake dancing in the air as the first snowfall augured an even sharper winter. There was a smile on your face that didn’t match the unrelenting coldness of the month, and even though the night was falling and the air felt icy on the tips of your fingers, there was only warmth in your chest as you went through the pictures of your phone.

Pictures of you and Jimin drinking hot chocolate, of clumsy iceskating, of funny faces that made you laugh out loud in the quietness of your bedroom. The feeling sparking in your chest could be considered somewhat dangerous— after all, you were just a girl that didn’t have any marks on her skin, a girl whose fate was yet to be decided. Something as enigmatic as love could be a treacherous thing, too risky for someone that couldn’t decide their destiny on their own.

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And then she stopped his heart.

She lifted her head, her chest heaving as she panted and she shot him a triumphant look, her bluebell eyes sparkling from under the reach of her dark fringe. And she smirked.

And right then and there Adrien knew he was absolutely screwed.

Because he wasn’t playing Dodge Ball with Marinette.

He was playing with Ladybug.

Inspired by this fic!