Watch The Counter

I owe this whole thing to @pretentious-git on Tumblr who posted a prompt/imagine and then let me take it into my hands.
“Okay but imagine Draco just walking into the Slytherin dorms all dramatic like and wailing about Harry to his friends and for once no one tells him to shut up so he just talks and talks but they’re all totally giddy for once because someone tipped off Harry and rigged up a spell for a word-counter in the Gryffindor dorms, so Harry’s sitting in his dorm room watching this little counter climb higher and higher because every number counts for Draco saying either ‘Harry, Potter, or Harry Potter’ in a sentence and Harry can’t believe it when he watches the counter go from 5 to like, 13514 in one night.”
I want to thank you so much for letting me use and play with this.

Draco had been pining over Harry for years, and the Slytherins are tired of hearing about it and need to get some fun. No one knew exactly how it was going to end.

Harry’s eyes widen as his arm is gripped tightly by someone and he is pulled into an empty classroom. His eyes gaze at the hand on his arm before following the limb, his gaze meeting no other than Pansy Parkinson’s hard glare. Pulling his arm away swiftly from the Slytherin’s grasp, and opening his mouth he tries to find his words before realizing he can’t find them and closing it again. Pansy smirked while watching the Gryffindor’s confidence waver slightly. “Don’t worry Potter. I’m not here to hex you. I have something you may be interested in knowing.” This catches the green-eyed boy’s attention, causing his words to come rushing back to him. “What could you possibly have that I would want?” He says, his hand loosely wrapping around his wand as a caution though his curiosity is beginning to take over more and more. “It’s about Draco. He goes on and on about the boy-who-lives, and it’s been driving all of us Slytherin’s crazy since the first year when you rejected his handshake. However, it has gotten worse. I thought we could maybe have some fun with this, however, a way of keeping any of us from drowning him in the lake if you will.” she says her voice completely serious much to Harry’s surprise. He looked at the Slytherin in front of him quizzically before speaking again. “Um, I don’t know what to say to that. What do you expect me to do in this little scheme of yours? I would also like to add that there is no way Malfoy would talk about me of his own free will unless it was to make fun or plot some evil scheme.” As he finishes, he attempts to erase the slight blush he knows is beginning to grow on his cheeks. A cunning and confidence filled smirk growing bigger on the Slytherin girls features. “Wanna bet Potter?” she asks, a daring look in her eye. The Slytherin in Harry begins to stir at the challenge. “Sure Parkinson, you’re on.” She smiles and pulls out a piece of parchment from her bag, scribbling a few words on it before handing the paper to the boy. “Here. If you say these words a number counter will appear and display anytime, he says your name in any form. Beware of what you’re about to realize Gryffindor.” She says, a knowing look taking over her features as she throws her long black hair over one shoulder and walks out of the room, leaving Harry to stare down at the paper with a weird feeling stirring in his stomach.

Walking into the Gryffindor common room, Harry flops down on one of the oversized chairs, his mind still on the parchment folded in his robe pocket. “Oi, Harry you alright there mate?” Ron says forcing Harry out of his trance, his head wiping toward the red head. “Sorry, I’m alright. I was just thinking about something from earlier.” The redhead nods before turning back to his game of wizard chess with Seamus, who was sitting on Dean’s lap next to the fire. “Hey, guys do you mind if I try this spell?” Harry asks the small group who were hanging out in the common room. They all turn towards Harry at his question; eyebrows quirked up as a response. Sighing the raven haired boy wiped a hand down his face before speaking. “I was cornered by Parkinson, and she told me something interesting, she also gave me this spell to prove her point.” At the mention of the infamous Slytherin everyone’s attention being drawn to him entirely, books and chess games momentarily forgotten. “What was her point?” Dean asked into the silent room. Harry let out another sigh, “She says that Malfoy talks about me nonstop, and apparently in a nice-ish way. I bet her that she was wrong, so she handed me this paper with a spell that will tell us every time he says my name.” There were hums of acknowledgment throughout the room before Ron bursts out “Well on with it man! If nothing else it will give us the inside scoop into the Slytherin’s nest if we ever need it.” Harry nodded and took out the parchment along with his wand, casting the spell. When he finishes the words, a small screen appears above the fireplace along with what seems to be a score counter. As everyone’s heads turn towards the screen, they realize that it is the Slytherin commons room and dorms. When nothing else seemed to occur after a few minutes, everyone turned back to their books and games, including Harry who pulled out his potions textbook and parchment, starting on a long night of essay writing.

Harry’s eyes snap open at the feeling of someone shaking him awake. As his eyes focus on the room around him, he sees Ron standing in front of him while Dean and Seamus have turned around to look above the fireplace and Ginny and Hermione have joined the guys and are sitting on one of the couches, also staring up at the fireplace. “Sorry mate, I didn’t mean to startle you but stuff started happening on the screen.” Ron says as he makes his way back over to the couch he had been sitting on before. Wiping the sleep from his eyes before looking up at the screen displayed on the wall surprised when his eyes make contact with the counter seeing that it’s already showing the number 10, as his gaze raises higher he sees Draco pacing in the middle of the emerald and silver common room. “Can we turn the sound on?” Harry asks, his voice coming out a bit raspy from sleep as his gaze meets Hermione’s. She nods and points her wand at the display causing the young Malfoy’s voice to echo throughout the room. ” Why does Potter always have to be such a righteous prat? ” The blonde said, his eyes locked with Pansy and Blaise who were sharing an armchair, his voice indicating he was talking to the room. “ He may have the Potter name but he’s nothing more than a royal pain in my arse. ” Harry’s eyes switched to the counter seeing the number getting higher. A weird feeling beginning bubbling in his chest, which he quickly pushed down his gaze going back to the video. “ All I heard in the hallway on my way here was Potter this, Potter that. It’s like he’s the Chosen One or something. I mean who chose him? Why would they chose someone like Potter to be our world’s Savior? I mean have they seen the little shit? In just one year he fainted over 35 times. What is he? A fangirl or something? ” The blonde rants out all in one breath his pacing coming to a stop as he dramatically throws himself into a chair opposite Pansy and Blaise. Closing his silver eyes he starts ranting again, his voice a little quieter than it was even though the entire commons room is still able to hear him, silent eye rolls passed between students as the blonde drowns on. “ I mean some days I just want to shove him against a wall and kiss him. Other days, however, I just want to push him against a wall. It all depends on how heroic he intends to be that day. Seriously, kill him or kiss him. Does anyone else have this problem when it comes to our Saint and Savior Scarhead? ” At the Slytherin’s confession everyone’s head in the crimson and gold common room turn to look at Harry, the raven-haired boy’s face turning almost a Weasley shade of red as his eyes continuing to stare unblinkingly at the video in front of him as the blonde continues to say things that he never thought he would hear from the young Malfoy. “ You wanna know how it should have gone back in first year? ” The blonde asks to the room, many groans heard even though it was their collective idea to let him drone on and on today, Malfoy was still an ear full to deal with when he went on one of his ‘I hate Potter but am really in love with him but don’t know it cause I don’t think or listen about what comes out of my mouth when I talk about Harry Potter’ rants The teen sends a glare at the students who responded to his question before turning his attention back to his friends. “ It should have gone like this. I introduce myself, and hold out my hand, he accepts it and then proceeds to question his sexuality and how the earth orbits. Is that really to much to ask? ” Blaise being the weaker of the two Slytherin’s before Draco can’t help it when he bursts into a fit of laughter, quickly burying his face in the back of Pansy’s shoulder in an attempt to go unnoticed. This tactic doesn’t work in the slightest earning him glares from the students around him who felt he may be blowing their cover. However as always when it came to Draco ranting about Harry he was oblivious to almost anything else. “ I’m serious, Potter with his perfectly messy hair and Potter with his gorgeous green eyes and Potter with his stupid Gryffindor bravery; why does he always have to be little miss perfect? Hasn’t he figured out that unless you’re me being perfect all the time is stupid? I guess not though since he has yet to trip and fall down a hundred flights of stairs. ” At that Harry rolls his eyes, the blush still present on his features from Draco’s comment on his sexuality. Harry felt the bubbling feeling in his stomach come back, this time with more force. Harry knew that if he hadn’t been sitting down the effect of the sensation would have forced his knees to buckle, silently he focussed on pushing the feeling away, blocking out everything else around him in the process. He hadn’t realized that the blonde had continued speaking so when his senses came back to him he realized that the silver eyed Slytherin had kept talking about him. “ Up. Down. Left. Right. Everywhere I look it’s Harry fucking Potter this, Harry fucking Potter that, oh and let’s not forget the times Harry fucking Potter is standing in front of me with his stupid face and perfect lopsided grin. Can’t I have just one Potter-less hour?! Wait wait wait til I take that back. Yeah don’t do that. I’ll keep my hours Potter-full. But only so I can make fun of course, there is no other reason I would want him around, yeah no. Another think I want to know is why he doesn’t listen when I talk? Once I was telling him how he had a nice face, however all he did was tell me to piss off. And again in fourth year during the Triwizard Tournament I told him of how I bet against my father and said that he may actually last a bit and survive. But once again nothing more than a piss off. ” Even from the view of the video the smirk on Pansy’s face was unmistakeable, a wicked look flashing in her eyes. “ So what you’re saying is that you don’t like Harry Potter, our Boy Who Lived, is that correct Dray? ” The blonde rolled his eyes though the corners of his mouth seemed to be trying to fight past his mask to form a smile. “ Fuck Potter, Fuck Potter, Fuck Potter. That’s all I have to say on stupid Fucking Potter. ” The dark haired girls smirk grew even more as she took in the answer. “ Wait I think I’m seeing a pattern here. ” she exclaimed excitedly, shifting slightly in her seat so she is facing Draco fully, her back to Blaise. “ Oh fuck you! ” The blonde say, raking a hand through his gelled back hair, messing it up slightly. Pansy rolls her eyes and laughs a little at Draco’s outburst. “ Oh sweetheart, I don’t think that is what you were asking for a moment ago. ” She shines an innocent smile at him as be begins muttering under his breath. “What did you say? ” she ask innocently, batting her eyes as she speaks. Draco rolls his eyes but speaks up anyway, making sure to direct it to her and not the whole common room. “ All I say is fuck off, but all I want to say is fuck me.

At this confession, Harry’s concentration on the screen is broken as if a spell had been on him. Trying to recover from what Malfoy had said he coughs, it quickly turning into a fit. When he can regain his ability to breath, he quickly stands, rushing out of the common room and into his dorm, slamming the door behind him, placing a locking charm on the door. The raven-haired teen paces back and forth in the dorm, trying to figure out what Draco meant by what he said, and furthermore what Draco had said meant to Harry himself. Forcing himself to take deep breaths Harry sits down on his bed, putting his head in his hands as he attempts to process what he had gotten himself into today. The blonde Slytherin’s words echo throughout the room as Harry sat in silence.

He is knocked out of his thoughts as someone knocks on the door, Harry realizes the locking spell on the door and opens it, his eyes never leaving the floor. He let out a small sigh as he felt someone sit next to him on the bed, someone’s hand intertwining with his own. Looking up he lets a little smile show on his features as his green orbs meeting Hermione’s brown ones. She smiles back at him, squeezing his hand. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, Harry rolls his eyes just a little before looking away from her. “I’m okay, thanks ‘Mione. Just surprised I guess.” She nods understanding watching the floor as well. “You’re not the only one surprised, I mean I had suspicions about you but it never even occurred to me that Malfoy may feel the same.” Hermione’s words caused Harry to look up staring at her profile. “Suspicions about me on what?” He asked dreading the answer he knew would explain the feelings he had been feeling in his stomach. “Suspicions that you liked Malfoy.” It felt like a stake to the heart as he notices that he is as transparent as they come. “I didn’t think anyone knew,” he mutters quietly, mostly to himself thought he knew Hermione had heard, resting her head on his shoulder they both sighed softly.

They had settled into a comfortable silence causing them both to jump when they heard Ron scream “Bloody hell.” from the common room. Glancing at each other they both stand, hands still intertwined as they go back to the common room together. The two break apart as they walk down the last few stairs and into the common room, the view in front of them almost makes Harry laugh. The two boys sitting in front of the fire are laughing, their gaze going between the video and Ron, his sister laughing while patting him on the back, the ginger boys head is in his hands mumbling under his breath. Breaking apart Hermione goes to sit back down by Ginny, Harry walking over to where he had been sitting. “Mate, you alright?” Harry echoes the words his best friend had said earlier; the Weasley boy looks up at his friend, horror in his eyes as they meet Harry’s green ones. “I-i-i,” he starts unable to speak aloud correctly, clearing his throat he tries again. “I just got what Malfoy had said before you left. Just Ewww.” He says running his hand through his ginger hair as a shudder runs through his body. At this action, Harry bursts into a fit of laughter paying no mind to the blonde still talking.

After a moment or two his laughing calms down, and he looks back at his best friend who still has a look of horror on his face. Letting out a long sigh he looks up to the screen at the sound of the Slytherin’s voice again. “ Potter is such a git, ” Malfoy says, running his hand through his hair again which is already a wreck almost a mirror image of Harry’s most of the time. For the first time since they had been watching Blaise speaks up on his mind on the subject. “ I know right. Fuck Potter. ” At the other man’s words, Draco speaks again. “ Yes, I hate him more than all of the other Gryffindorks, him specifically. ” His silver eyes are closing as he lets out a big sigh. “ No Draco, fuck him .” The dark haired boy says looking at the blonde with a slight smirk growing on his face. “ Yeah I know I- ” Draco starts again, most likely about to start another long monolog that could have a real possibility of keeping both groups of students in their common rooms all night. “ Fuck him, ” Blaise says again, letting the smirk he had been suppressing show its true color at the silence he is greeted with from Draco and the almost silent giggling coming from Pansy who is hiding her face into his shoulder, he speaks again to further get his point across in case Draco ends up being just as oblivious as Harry always is. “ Fuck Potter, or at least kiss him or at the very least tell him how you feel. ” At this, a shade of red that could only be compared to the Gryffindor shade made its home on Draco’s pale skin along his cheeks, ears, and neck. Harry could feel his own face, ears, and neck turning a matching shade of red, the blush burning his tanned skin as he runs a hand over his face and then through his hair.

For the rest of the night, Harry sits in the overly cushioned chair dozing off, his eyes occasionally gazing at the counter on the wall. As the sun begins to come through the tower windows, Harry smiles to himself seeing the Slytherin groups asleep in their common room, spread out on a sofa and chair. The green-eyed man’s gaze slowly trails down the counter, eyes widening when he sees the number 13,514 displayed on the wall. His smile growing into a huge grin at the realization of everything that happened the night before. He looks around the common room finding Ron laying face down on the floor looking like he got pushed off the sofa, Ginny and Hermione sharing said sofa, Seamus and Dean also sprawled out on the floor with blankets and pillows spread out around them, and Neville who had come in late after studying in the library was half falling off a matching armchair to Harry’s. Quietly the raven-haired boy stands and makes his way to his dorm, quickly changing into a set of his muggle clothes seeing at it was Saturday, checking the clock to see that it was a little after 7:30 am he makes his way out of the dorms and into the cold, empty corridors of the castle. While focussing on keeping quiet Harry forgot to check the image above the fireplace making it a complete surprise when he runs face first into the chest of a white-blonde Slytherin. The dark haired boy feels an arm wrap strongly around his waist the other grabbing his arm to steady him. Looking up into the silver eyes of the other man Harry’s smile falters slightly before growing into an almost wicked smirk realizing that he knows everything from last night but that Draco knows nothing about it. The young Malfoy seems to realize just how close they and lets go of Harry’s waist his hand lingering on the others man a few moments longer before being removed as well. The two teens stand in the hallway and look at each other, Harry’s face showing a smirk while Draco’s was masked, though his eyes seemed to betray him by showing slight nervousness. The two stood that way for what felt like forever but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes before Harry broke the silence, his eyes glinting with just a little bit of mischief from knowing something the other doesn’t. “Malfoy, what are you doing out and about so early? Your fellow Slytherin’s threaten to throw you in the lake yet?” Harry ask remembering Pansy talking about the Slytherin’s using the stuff from last night to have fun and stop them from drowning Draco in the lake with the giant squid. The blonde’s eyes betray him again by widening in slight shock before recovering once more. “Don’t get your lacy pink panties in a twist Potter. Why would you care if I was thrown into the lake to drown anyway? Disappointed it wouldn’t be you tossing me in there? Not that I am getting thrown in the lake in the first place.” Harry rolls his eyes at the other man in the hall, the bubbling feeling coming back to him as he takes in Draco’s features up close; his perfect porcelain skin, how the light shines against his white blonde hair making it look like he has a halo surrounding his head, His silver eyes taking in Harry before meeting his green ones. “No that’s not it, Dray.” At the use of Pansy’s nickname, Draco’s masks falters again, this time lasting longer in its falter before he recovers. “Dray? Where did you hear such a name?” Harry smiles, the wicked grin being replaced for a small and shy smile. “I guess you could say we have a mutual friend.” Harry says before walking down the hall towards the Great Hall for breakfast, turning to look back at Draco with the smirk on his lips once more. “You coming?” He asks, receiving a distracted nod as Draco absentmindedly falls into step next to him. The walk to the Great Hall is quiet, green eyes meeting silver ones repeatedly as the two walk. Harry reaches his hand out to open the door that would lead them into the Great Hall he feels Draco’s hand touch his arm causing him to lower his arm and turn towards the blonde. The Slytherin looks up and down the man in front of him, the corners of his mouth fighting to pull up into a smile. “What do you know?” he asks, his eyes searching the slightly shorter man’s face. Placing a mask of innocent on his face Harry smiles at Draco “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I know plenty of things which one are you talking about?” A slight chuckle escapes the pale man as he takes in Harry’s innocent demeanor. “You’re acting different, and I want to know why.” Draco states trying to command his feelings towards the person away and channel them into his mask. He had known he had feelings for Potter for awhile now but he wasn’t able to accept them, he had messed up back in the robe shop the September before the first year when a cute brunette boy walked in, and he had been the prim, and proper son Lucius Malfoy had taught him to be instead of being himself. He knew he was not good enough for Harry so why bother, right? Harry smiles his real and genuine lopsided grin at Draco, a smile that only people close to him ever see. “I’m not acting differently in the slightest Malfoy.” When he says, the teen’s last name comes out soft and nice as if it was ‘Mione’s name instead of stiff and hard like he would normal say the other student’s surname. “Oh bullshit,” Draco exclaimed causing Harry to chuckle aloud, Draco’s world stopping for a moment at the almost angelic sound of the other man’s laughter. “You are acting differently. Your walking, talking, smiling, and laughing with me. You’re using a nickname only one person ever calls me. Something is up; I know it so spills.” He rants, unnerved as the thought begins to dawn on him that Harry could know about his feelings and that he may just be playing with the blonde to get back at him for the past five or so years of torment that Draco and his fellow Slytherin purebloods have caused him. Harry lets out another chuckle before pulling himself together. “All I will admit to is that a little bird spent all last night going on about some righteous prat named Potter that he apparently had a problem deciding if he wanted to kiss or kill. If you want my opinion I would say kiss the Saint and Savor Scarhead, seems like it would make more sense to do that. I mean you could always kill him later.” The Gryffindor remarks before shining another signature lopsided grin at Draco before reaching out to open the door and disappearing into the Great Hall leaving the Slytherin dumbfounded in his wake.

The Great Hall slowly begins to fill as the morning drags on. Harry smiles as his Luna walks over to him, her being the only Ravenclaw to come down for breakfast. Smiling back she sits down next to the raven-haired man. “Good morning ‘Arry,” she says before grabbing a plate and placing some food on it. “I hope you don’t mind if I sit here I just really don’t want to sit alone, you know?” Harry nods, knowing the feeling of not wanting to be alone all too well. “It’s perfectly fine with me Luna.” With huge smiles, the two dig into their food waiting on the others to join them.

First is Hermione, followed by Ron who sits in front of the two not even batting an eye at the fact that someone outside of their house was sitting with them. Ron sleepily piles food onto his plate, almost face planting into it multiple times while Hermione grabs some eggs, toast, and hashbrowns digging in for a few moments before striking up a conversation with Luna over one of the books the two had been cramming over after classes yesterday. Next came Ginny who immediately noticed Luna and sat next to her, she piles her plate with food to make sure she would have enough energy for the Quidditch practice game later in the day, her eyes never leaving the artistic illustrations Luna was making with her hands as she spoke with passion about the book her and Hermione were discussion. Seamus, Dean, and Neville came in and sat down next never missing a beat in the heated discussion they were having over what seemed to be two Quidditch teams. Last to join as always, probably because they were too busy plotting or executing pranks to remember what time it was, was the famous Weasley twin who sat down next to Harry immediately trying to convince him to join in with one of their brilliant plans they had in the works, saying that if they had the Chosen One on their side there was no way they could get caught. Harry rolled his eyes at the twins drowning out the rest of their conversation as he made eye contact with a certain blonde Slytherin from across the room, even with a faint blush making his way to his cheeks he pulled his lips into a small smirk and winked at the blonde before turning back to his friends.

As people began to join the Gryffindor table the same was happening at the Slytherin’s with Pansy and Blaise making themselves at home on either side of Draco. Crabbe and Goyle even made an appearance by sitting across the table from the trio, knowing better than to act like they were part of the group. As soon as Pansy was seated Draco turned to her his voice coming out as a commanding whisper. “What did you do?” He asked, worry running ramped in his mind as he tried to assess how much Harry knows. The Slytherin girl looks over Draco’s shoulder at Blaise as they let it sink in the Draco could know what they had set up with the Golden Boy last night. Putting on a smirk the girl turns her attention back to the blonde in front of her. “What are you on about Dray?” she asks trying to put as much innocence into her voice as she can in case he doesn’t know anything. “That, that right there. You’re not the only one that has called me that today, what did you do?” Draco asks nervously, his fingers unknowingly playing with his fork as he watches the girl with interest. Pansy twist her hair around her finger as she decides what to tell him. However, she is thrown from her thinking when she hears Blaise speak up. “It wasn’t just her, it was all of the Slytherins,” he mumbles unable to make eye contact with Draco’s glowing silver eyes. “What did you do?” Draco says in a dangerously low voice, his body already preparing to run as his brain eliminates possibilities. “Don’t go all dark lord murder spree, okay?” Blaise asks, receiving a not so convincing nod in return. “Okay so all of us,” he says gesturing his hand in an indication of the Slytherin tables. “Had grown tired of you going on and on about Potter since the first year. So we took matters into our own hands and got a spell that would show the commons room in a video form as well as a score counter that would display every time you said Potter’s name in any form. Pansy proceeded to give this to him. As far as we know he may have used it last night which could mean he knows everything you said last night.” Blaise finishes his eyes finally meeting Draco’s watching the blondes mask melting away being replaced first by worry, then happiness, and lastly by anger which causes him to look away. In one swift motion, Draco is standing looking between Blaise and Pansy before looking up and down the table at the other Slytherin’s sitting silently waiting for what Draco was going to do. He looks back at Blaise and Pansy when he speaks even though he is yelling and knows that the whole Great Hall can hear him. “YOU. DID. WHAT?” with his anger filled eyes staring into them neither of them speaks, Pansy only letting out a slight shriek. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he glances across the room his eyes meeting brilliant green ones for nothing more than a second before he turns on his heels, running out of the Great Hall.

When Draco breaks eyes contact with Harry, he momentarily feels empty, alone. Quietly he stands and makes his way out of the Great Hall when he is out of the Hall he pulls the Marauders map out of his pocket thanking himself for making it a habit of taking it with him wherever he went. When the map is opened, he runs his finger along the paper trying to find the name he wants out of all the other students, teacher, and staff residing inside the castle. As he finds the name, he lets out a sigh of relief seeing that he was somewhere nearby. Closing the map and putting it away he breaks into a sprint, making his way through the corridors towards the lake.

When Harry gets to the lake, he stops when he can see a head of blonde hair resting on one of the large rocks by the shoreline. He takes a few deep breaths before taking a few step closer only stopping when he is standing next to the other man. Clearing his voice in a way to get the Slytherin’s attention he sits down next to him, their shoulders touching. “Are you okay?” the brunette asks his eyes searching Draco’s profile. “Why do you care?” Draco responds, his voice coming out gruff as if he is having an internal fight with himself. “I have always cared, what happened yesterday just showed me how much I care,” Harry says, giving up on making eye contact with the taller man and just staring out at the calm dark water. “It’s fine if you didn’t mean anything you said last night, it’s not like you knew the full story of who was hearing your words, so it’s understandable if you don’t feel the same.” Harry rambles into the silence around them. Harry opens his mouth to speak again after a few minutes but closes it as Draco’s slender finger run against his jaw, turning his head towards him. Green eyes meet silver ones for what feels like the first time all over again; neither filled with anger, neither glazed over by a mask. They stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like forever, the scenery around them blurring into nothingness as they take on the other. Slowly Draco moves forward, his eyes glancing between Harry’s lips and his eyes, Harry leans forward as well, their lips brushing against one another as eyes flutter shut. The kiss becomes heated, Draco pulling Harry into his lap with the brunette straddling him. After a few more minutes the two slowly pull apart, their foreheads resting against each other as they catch their breaths. Without warning Draco breaks into a fit of laughter, causing Harry to lean back to get a better look at the blonde in front of him. “Are you okay?” Harry asks a smile growing on his features. The blonde continues laughing, putting his head on the other boy’s shoulder. “I-I’m okay just never thought I would be kissing the Chosen One, let alone have him straddling me.” He says into Harry’s shirt, the confession causing Harry to laugh along with Draco. With a huge smile, Harry pulls Draco’s face away from his shoulder, pulling his lips into another breathtaking kiss.


@therealjacksepticeye not only owns up to making a trans dad by complete accident out of ignorance, but then proceeds to accept and embrace that aspect of his character and the story while calling out how awesome it is for the developers to include that option in the game.

It’s stuff like this that reminds me why Jack is one of my favorite YouTubers.

Ok, I’ll put the prologue of my fic of the Beauty and the Beast here, this in a test, english is not my language, so here will be many grammatical errors, I hope, however, that it will be understood and that can be enjoy it, If this have acceptance I will proceed to translate the rest of the chapters… 

Beauty and the Beast


“How else could a Beast prove his love?”

Let me tell you a story … But not a simple love story, a story about love, where beauty is something more than the physical … And love is the necessary cure, even for the coldest and most corrupt heart.

Once upon a time in a kingdom, in a castle, lived a King and his Queen, they had four children, three girls and one boy.

Kings named their son James Buchanan and educated him by teaching him the power of love and kindness.

 James had two friends, his best friend Steve Rogers and his other friend Alexander Pierce, the latter was like a rotten apple.

You see, Pierce longed for the kingdom, longed for the riches of the crown, was a manipulator and mostly manipulated the young prince at his whim, the young prince learned from this that the physicist was the most important and the lucky that he was for have a good looks, he learned that his selfish pride was a good thing.

Rogers was the opposite, he tried to advise the prince in a good way, to teach him kindness, that love was not just to notice a person because of his physical, which was much more…

And between these two, it was a constant war to become the “conscience” of the prince, until the tragedy…

There was a neighboring kingdom, a dark kingdom with a cruel King, it was a kingdom that envied their peaceful and kind neighbors, because their had fertile lands, good economy and a very prosperous kingdom.

For this reason, the tyrant king declared war on his peaceful neighbors.

King Barnes had no choice but to prepare his troops in defense of his lands and his people.

It was a war that lasted a few years, until a betrayal ended.

And that traitor was a young adolescent with longings of greatness and also friend of the young prince.

Alexander Pierce.

He, being a friend of the prince, had access to the whole castle, to every small passage, and as he had grown up in the castle thanks to his mother being the royal housekeeper until his death, Alexander knew the castle how he knew the back of his hand.

And for the riches and power offered him by the neighboring kingdom, he sold his own.

He taught the enemy the secret passages, like entering and leaving without being seen and he in change would have riches and a place of honor in court.

And it was one night, when the neighboring kingdom attacked the kings directly.

It was a massacre that kingdom would not forget.

The castle burned with flames, the good and kind kings were brutally murdered along with two of their daughters, the youngest daughter was barely saved by the speed of the royal guards and that her room was the furthest from the fire, her only son, Prince James, was taken prisoner by the enemy…

The young prince could not be saved from the clutches of the enemy, that day he not only lost his family, his kingdom, his life, he had lost his arm too, for when the castle was on fire, a beam fell from the ceiling catching his left arm, the enemy got it that way, trapped by the beam and saw his chance to have it.

However, the enemy made him a new arm, for it was a kingdom that had some scientists at his disposal, mostly to build lethal weapons, but this time they used his wits to build a new arm, for Pierce, now a future heir to that tyrannical kingdom, wanted his new toy complete.

And there began the constant torture.

Now the prince had a metal arm and this was only the beginning of the torture, he was tested so that he learned to endure all sorts of pain, he was physically and psychologically tortured, beaten, forced to see frightening things and he only wanted the pain stopped, he could not take it anymore.

Not to mention the emotional wound to learn that someone who thought he was his friend was the one who betrayed him, humiliated and killed his family, one of the people his family appreciated and let live in the castle under royal protection, was the causing so much pain and the devastation of his kingdom.

Thus passed five bitter years…

He had been a prisoner until he have 20 years old, enduring the tortures and the pain that caused him, having to perform the horrible things that were forced, five bitter years where the prince turned cold and indifferent, without feelings, his heart had become stone.

However, when he thought that everything was lost, the person who was his true best friend, his brother, rescued him from that hell.

Steve Rogers, had spent five years planning the fall of the traitorous kingdom from that cruel kingdom and planning the rescue of his best friend, could not leave him alone, and prayed to the gods every day that his friend was alive.

But when he found it, there was only the shell of what was once his friend.

When Prince James returned to his kingdom he discovered that the castle had been restored, those parts that had been burned had been “rebuilt,” but it was not as before, James knew, nothing was as before.

The little joy that he felt was to see his little sister Rebecca alive and without a single wound, the young princess was happy to see her brother, was happy to see someone in his family alive, but it hurt to see what had happened, that arm, the scars, his cold attitude, it hurt to see what his brother had become.

After the rescue of the prince and fall of that tyrannical kingdom along with the murder of the traitor, everything returned to a relative tranquility in the kingdom.

But the things in the castle were tense, the prince locked himself in his room and did not leave unless it was strictly necessary, he had not accepted the crown as King, because he did not feel dignified, his sister still was so young and she could not carry with him the weight of being Queen, was a kingdom without kings now, and that made it a weak kingdom.

And so the days passed and the months passed, an important date was approaching in the life of the castle, the day of the birthday of the prince.

Rebeca, the young princess of 15 years, had planned that day was a special day, it was the first birthday of her Bucky from what had happened, she wanted her brother to regain his happiness, missed listening to his brother’s laughter, missed seeing her smile … For that reason, she had planned a perfect day, everyone in the castle being agreed, they wanted to see their prince happy.

But it was not like that…

Between Rebeca and Steve managed to get Bucky out of their self-confinement, they tried to make the day come out as planned, only James barely grimaced, at least it was the most they could get out of him, however, they did not let that this would ruin the day, everyone in the castle tried to make the prince enjoy his day, but he really did not, he just seemed ridiculous to celebrate something like that.

And it only got worse…

In the middle of the night the castle gates rang, the prince went to see who had dared to interrupt his celebration, and found a gawky old lady dressed in old dirty rags.

The old woman told the prince her dilemma, it was a cold night and she has nowhere to sleep, and in exchange for a haven she offered a beautiful red rose like blood.

The prince did not care about the old woman or what happened to her, she did not want anyone else in her castle, she did not trust anyone else, and the old woman’s appearance gave much to be desired. Old habits was hard to dying.

The old lady warned him not to be carried away by appearances, which not everyone wanted to hurt him.

When he rejected her again, a blinding light enveloped the old woman revealing a beautiful young sorceress who called herself as Enchantress.

The sorceress with courage speak “Young prince let yourself be manipulated by the darkness of your heart, you have lost faith in people and you do not care what others do for you, you are blind to see true beauty, even your parents would be disappointed to see in the dark and vile that you have become, so you think, if the appearance is important then that reflects in your appearance the darkness of your heart, I Enchantress I curse you and your castle and all the people in it, only when someone truly loved you despite your appearance the spell will break, but only until the last petal of this rose falls on your 25th birthday, until then, I condemn you to be the Beast that you keep in your heart and forced you to be”

She had seen that there was no love in her heart and by punishment turned him into a beast and cursed anyone who was in the castle, while at the same time erased the memories of the people in the village, who would not remember that once belonged to the kingdom.

After these words the sorceress disappeared, the prince was frightened by his words and suddenly felt a pain coming from his chest and cry agonizing, the words of the sorceress were repeated in his mind as he felt his body change, until suddenly everything It became dark…

Six ways to foil a cunning plan

1. Let us first list the ways NOT to foil a cunning plan: research, detective work, deduction, reason and the like. These are ways to foil a non-cunning plan. It is precisely the hallmark of the cunning plan that the sensible, methodological investigator is utterly stumped. Indeed, this would be the dictionary definition of cunning if someone had not cunningly switched it for a more mundane definition.
2. In fact, at least forty percent of cunning plans are foiled by children. If you are not yourself a child, you may need to hire some, or possibly tell a bevy of passing children that a chicken is busting some moves in the modern fashion out at the end of town where the mystery is. The chance of a child foiling the plan increases the less that the children know about the plan. You yourself may have foiled multiple cunning plans in childhood and remained completely unaware.
3. In you cannot be a child, try being a fetching young-to-middle-aged gentleman with maybe a chin or some shoulders or something like that. Recall that the weak link in the cunning plan is usually the cunning planner. Many adhere to the long-discredited CEK (‘Capture, Explain the entire plan to, then Kill’) protocol when dealing with incoming adversaries. Studies have shown that the actual rate of K following CE is small. Just surrender to the henchmen. But fetchingly. Your chances are pretty good.
4. Cunning plans frequently involve some element of disguise. You can easily get one step ahead of cunning planners by owning a disguise shop. In the case of competition from other disguise emporia, you should try and position yourself as the most morally ambiguous establishment, for example by advertising that you will accept the proceeds of crime as payment.
5. Similarly, other opportunities exist to target the supply chain of cunning. Consider branching out into mail-order doomsday clocks and countdown timers, lasers, big leather boots, monocles, penny-farthings, coffee or lobsters.
6. If all else fails, check whether you are in fact the perpetrator of the cunning plan (note that you may have planned for the case in which you lose all memory of having set the plan in motion; this would be particularly cunning). One common test is to count the number of 'ha’s you insert into an international standard laugh. In any case, if you have perpetrated it, you can probably unperpetrate it. Recall, however, that the other hallmark of the cunning plan is that it is almost always foiled. Do not, under any circumstances, try to undo your cunning plan with another cunning plan: this will dramatically boost its chances of success.

because wonder woman

“this is stupid,” sasuke points out. he doesn’t try that hard to stop his teammates though. arguably he even encouraged them having handed them his favourite katana. “this is stupid and an unnecessary risk to our covers.”

“you’re stupid,” naruto retorts halfheartedly. he’s too preoccupied helping sakura hide sasuke’s blade in the back of her gown.

“no, you’re–” sasuke stops himself and just sighs. he crosses his arms and leans against the wall and just waits for them to finish.

eventually naruto pulls away from sakura and tells her to look at her reflection. when she does, she gasps and she cheers and she giggles a little too much for someone who’s about to partake in an assassination in the middle of some important gala.

Keep reading

“Brisé, pourtant vivant” Part III S.B

   [A/N: So, I hope you’ll like it. Things are getting pretty…serious(every damn pun intended)
Warnings: the usual stuff. My English and swearing. (Age gap?) Gifs are not mine. Credits to their original owners. Also, to J.K. Rowling.]


Things were heating up. Molly was angry. Sirius wasn’t backing down.
   “It’s not down to you to decide what’s good for Harry!” she said in a rather sharp tone that made me quirk an eyebrow. “You haven’t forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?” she continued.
  Now, don’t get me wrong. I did think that Dumbledore was indeed the only one who Voldemort was afraid of, but I didn’t trust him. I didn’t trust Dumbledore.
  “Which bit?” Sirius asked forcing his voice to be polite but if you knew him at all, you would understand that he was up for the fight.
 “The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know,” she fired back with emphasis.
  “I don’t intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly.    
But as he was the one who saw Voldemort come back he has the right to —” Sirius tried to reason her but she wasn’t having it. This crosstalk kept going on and on until-
  “He’s not your son,” said Sirius quietly. But the pain was visible. Every inch of his face was stained with it.
  “He’s as good as,” she said. “Who else has he got?”. That was low Molly. That was way too low.
   “He’s got me!”.
   “Yes, well. The thing is, it’s been rather difficult for you to look after him while you’ve been locked up in Azkaban, hasn’t it?”.
  “MOLLY”. Shit. I yelled at her before I could shut my mouth.
Sirius started to rise from his chair. He was paler than usual. His eyes fell on me and my breath was caught in my throat. He was in hell. He was in pain. Probably reliving every single second.
 “Ask him, Molly. Ask Harry. It’s his choice anyway” I said coldly as I fixed my eyes on her.
 “I want to know what’s been going on,” Harry said at once. I sent a small smile at him.
 After that, I zoned out. I was already aware of everything. There was one major problem though. I could never trust the mastermind behind this. He was concocting a plan that very few people were aware. One of them was Snape. I knew things about Dumbledore’s life and background… things that made me think that he was just as cruel and manipulative as Voldemort, if not more. You see, Voldemort didn’t hide behind a fake façade. People knew who he was and what he has done. Dumbledore on the other hand… not so much. He was not a saint. Yet, almost everyone was willing to trust him with their lives. Maybe I was being paranoid, I thought to myself.
  Everything seemed so easier a few years ago. I remember the common room and my dorm. I remember how the stars would come unstuck from an indigo ceiling, falling around me like comets and how they would swallow the Earth and the sun and everything we’ve ever known. I remember myself saying that when this world ends up in blue fire… we will be infinite. I could still feel the light breeze through the wide windows. The smell of old books and chocolate, of smoke and perfume. How the night sky would keep me company all those nights that loneliness had decided to pay me a visit.
  How serene everything was… how it was always darker before dawn. The hollow lie was that I could see the sun shining, the moon radiating, hear the birds singing. I could see the life around me. But I could not feel the warmth of the sun or the shivers of the moon. The bird’s song was nothing more than white noise. Yes, the sore truth was-is- that I am empty. Alive but not living.
I felt like I was drowning. I needed air.        
  “Beds. NOW. All of you” I heard Molly saying. She started pushing them out and all the way to their bedrooms. I wanted to get out of here but all I could do was sit there and stare into space. Too lost to be found.
  “Rose!”. I slightly jumped at the sound, trying to focus on the person who called my name.
 “Hm?” I hummed. I just wanted air. I just wanted some time alone. I was too sober for this.
  “Well, I was asking if you’d like something to drink. Fire whiskey, butterbeer… um and red wine” Tonks was rambling. But right there, the last words made my head pop up causing my eyes to shine with mischievousness. She laughed, poured me a generous amount of wine into a glass and handed to me with a smirk. Oh my Merlin. Please don’t let her know.
 My gaze shifted to him as he ran his lips to the rim of the crystal he held delicately between his slender fingertips. His glass was filled with the same blood red looking substance as mine. When his tongue flicker against the crystal, I removed my gaze from him.
  It was reckless getting lost like that. I took a rather large sip out of my drink tasting the silky undertone that it held. It was sublime. Something rear. It tasted like blackberries and smoke, wood and dust… perfectly able to get you tipsy from the very first sip.
 “Dora, love, take it easy”. Remus looked at her with concern while she was downing another shot of fire whiskey. Not wise. She laughed… oh, my. She was already drunk.
 “You can stay here, you know. I doubt she is in any condition to apparate” Sirius said calmly looking over at his friend.
 “Oh, Siri, you are so dense” she said while Remus was scooping her. She couldn’t even stand but she sure was able to make me blush. Thankfully, I hid it.
“Yeah, I think we are staying over. Stop it Tonks” Remus told him, ignoring Dora’s comment. She was trying to tickle him.
 “Yeah, yeah. Get a room. My eyes hurt” I commented at them and their compromising position. Remus blushed. He was such a dork. Sirius let out a kind laugh. A true one. It was so melodic and magnetic and-
 “Goodnight guys” he waved at us and muted Dora by covering her mouth with his hand. After a while, the silence was deafening. I couldn’t master to look anywhere near him. For fuck’s sake!
 “She was right, you know”. His voice made my head snap. His gaze met mine. I was a bit taken aback. By the honesty and the pain that his eyes held. He was referring to Molly.
 “No. She wasn’t” I simply stated like it was so obvious that anyone could see it. She wasn’t right.
 “I haven’t been around, Rose. I was locked up. For twelve years. I have literally offered nothing-”
 “Stop. Please, stop” I whispered cutting him off. How could he think so low of himself?
“You can’t see it, can you? You have been brutally broken, so many times… yet you manage to be gentle towards others, caring and kind. Do you realize how much you deserve? You know, I was always told that there were monsters under my bed. But they were never there. They were inside my head. They tried to convince me that since I wasn’t afraid of them, I had become one. But I am no monster. I know that now. And if I am able to forgive and move on… to accept and proceed… then you cannot, by any means, leave yourself behind thinking so low of who you are. I have met many people in my life. Yet, the most beautiful souls are the most damaged ones. That’s because every day they make a conscious choice… every single day. They chose to be better, not to be defined by their past. And you are one of those people. So, no. I can’t accept that you would think that she was right”. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it wasn’t. Not that it matters. Not that it ever did.
  Our eyes were locked. I knew that he would never look at me like I wanted him to but I couldn’t help my shattering heart.
   His hair fell around his handsome face in dark loose tendrils and his dark gray eyes were reflecting a perfect storm. I finally realized why tornados were named after people. His gaze had me captivated, unable to do anything but return it.  
  All air had left my lungs. Fuck, it had left the building.  
  He didn’t say anything. I heard my heart falling to the ground with an echo that made me shiver. We had looked at each other a little too long to be just friends.
I stood up, finally coming to my senses, turning on my heels, ready to leave and go straight to a room that was in this very building.
  “Roza…”. I froze; in place, in time. It was late. The night was never my best counselor. So, instead of walking away, not giving in to his husky voice calling me by my nickname… I turned around, facing him and I decided, why not?
  “Pourquoi? Pourquoi avez-vous reposé votre âme dans les mains qui la traitent si cruellement, des mains qui ne pourraient jamais la gérer parce qu'elles ne méritent pas quelque chose de si beau? Belle âme… Ça n'en finit pas de m'étonner” I breathed out, on the verge of crying. How could he hurt the only thing I cared about? How could-
  Trying to turn and walk away, I stumbled and fell. Well, sort of. A pair of strong arms were instantly wrapped around my waist. My face was buried into his chest. His scent was intoxicating me. I was screaming at myself, wanting to bang my head against the wall.
Everything was spinning.

Part IV
Part V
[Pourquoi? Pourquoi avez-vous reposé votre âme dans les mains qui la traitent si cruellement, des mains qui ne pourraient jamais la gérer parce qu'elles ne méritent pas quelque chose de si beau? Belle âme… Ça n'en finit pas de m'étonner = Why? Why did you rest your soul in the hands that treat it so cruelly, hands that could never manage it because they do not deserve something so beautiful? Beautiful soul. It never ceases to amaze me.]

anonymous asked:

Whenever anti's get angry at people telling them they're untitled pricks it's like hmm, where to start?...Well from the top of my head there's attacking and threatening to kill staff members and fans online and in real life, making not 1 but 2 petitions demanding ages that's literally only relevant to this wank and not the actual show, and to replace JK who HAS a contract with DW (good luck with that kids), and tried to prevent a mental illness charity from accepting proceeds from a Sheith zine

Antis are so entitled literally like the whole JK thing is hilarious bc it’s as though they actually think they have a say in who the VA’s are etc and as though DW is actually gonna listen to them


Warnings: mentions of death, kinda angsty, maybe some (like really just 2 or 3 words) fucking language?

“Mother Nature, let me start by saying what an honour it is to meet you. Can I call you Y/N?”

“Mrs Maximoff will do.” This earned a snicker from the very man on trial.

The week of Tony’s trial for the creation of Ultron thus the indirect cause of the Battle of Sokovia had arrived quickly. The Avengers collectively halted the mass genocide of the human race, this though was no where near enough as two of the Avenger’s played in it’s occurrence in the first place. Bruce would also be on trial if he wasn’t busy being missing.

“Mrs Maximoff,” the scummy prosecutor started with a laugh, his attempt to come off as a friend boiled your blood. As if he could turn you against your family. “I want to start off by saying how brave I think you are for testifying. It must be hard.”

His play was dirty but you were dirtier.

“Why’s that? I just have to sit and avoid talking out of my ass, it’s really easier than it seems. I could help you with it sometime?” Laughter rang through the room as the judge ordered silence and for everyone, eyes trained on Tony, to remember the severity of this case.

“Mrs Maximoff. Recall to me your version of events from the Battle of Sokovia.” Simple question. Easy question.

“I wasn’t in Sokovia at the time. I was with Pepper Pott’s in New York.” Lying on the stand was more than okay when you were protecting SHIELD secrets. Clint’s family home was far from New York but the real truth wouldn’t change the fact you were nowhere near Sokovia at the time.

“Ah, I see that here in your written testimony. You said you were receiving live updates on the battle as it was fought, am I correct?” After seeing your nod he continued. Addressing the court, judge and jurors, he put up some weather forecasts on a screen at the front of the court room. “Up on the monitor, are the weather reports on the day of the battle. The sky’s were clear all day in New York. Must have been a lovely day, very peaceful I’m sure. However as your ‘superhero’ name suggests, Mother Nature, you have some abilities. Can you please share them with the court?”
Again easy question.

“My name derives from the fact I can control the weather, initially with my mood, now I can manipulate it to fight.”

“Your mood you say? On the screen now, which you’ve all probably seen on the news multiple times, is video footage of Mrs Maximoff in battle weeks after the Battle of Sokovia. You wasted no time getting back into action following your full recovery. God, where are my manners? Congratulations are in order.”

Before Ultron, before the Avengers ever found Loki’s scepter, you, Wanda and Pietro lived happily in Sokovia. It was a little, loving country, with a strong sense of community and a real rage and pain for their fallen Sokovians.

Upon moving there as a child you grew close to the orphaned twins when your family too passed away. When you all were old enough, living together was never a question, it just happened, kind of like befriending Wanda and just like falling in love with Pietro.

Strucker’s experiments were a choice made by the three of you without second thought. Wanda and Pietro surviving the experiments never phased you for a second but you waking up on the other side with a nickname, courtesy of Quicksilver himself and a new found adoration for your world, earned you the title of Mother Nature and a desire to protect your planet.

So when you fell pregnant with Pietro’s baby you knew what you had to do. Keep Wanda safe, Pietro safe, Ciel safe.


His movements were so quick, so Pietro.
Grey tips in his hair that rivalled the beauty of his father’s and eyes that you could’ve sworn glittered when he laughed.

He was so like Wanda too. His smile putting even the toughest Avenger in a literal trance. His small hands on your cheeks casting away all fear from your mind.

He was like you too. He made it rain when he cried. The sun shone just that bit brighter when he smiled and the stars gleamed as he dreamt.

Wanda and Pietro refused to let you join Ultron. If anything were to happen to your unborn son, they’d never forgive themselves. Harbouring a hatred that large for Tony Stark meant they had to join Ultron, but they couldn’t allow you too.

Thanking him for his congratulations came naturally, allowing a small smile to take over your features, though this happened anytime you thought of your precious baby boy, the lawyer couldn’t help notice how peaceful you looked.

“His mother is very brave. Raising him alone. I’m sure he misses his father.”

There it was. You knew his dirty tactics always got him where he needed to go, but he really didn’t know you played dirtier.

“I don’t know, he’s a baby, he doesn’t say much.” Your shift to a monotonous tone was the only giveaway that his words had affected you. “Plus I have the team to help me, I’m hardly alone.”

“Did you love your husband?”

“Very much so.”

“Yet you testify for his murderer?” This earned a blanket of silence over the court room. Since the start of the trial earlier this week, after calling Wanda, Nat, Vision, Steve, Rhodey and finally Tony to the stand, you knew he was saving you for something big, your assumptions were confirmed immediately.

“My husband wasn’t murdered by the man on trial today. In fact he wasn’t murdered by a man at all.”

“That must hurt. Iron Man couldn’t even kill your husband himself, he allowed one of his weapons to do so. Just like he did to his parents before him. How do you fight by his side knowing the love of your life is dead because of Tony Stark.”

Your eyes still hard on the very confident lawyer, you noticed Wanda lean over the bar separating the spectators in the court room from the defendant and prosecutor.
She grabbed Tony’s shoulder in a vice grip to keep him from falling into the darkness his mind was sure to engulf him in. She flooded his mind with the very thing only she or yourself could tell him.

He was forgiven.

“Before we get into that Mrs Maximoff, let’s go back to my question of your powers. You have a lot of fans I’m sure they’d be interested to know, just how did you keep your powers under control after something so heartbreaking occurred that day.” You searched your mind for what reason he had for talking about your powers that day if you were not anywhere near the battle.

“Let me put this simply. Your powers Mother Nature are far from stable. An event of this magnitude surely would have caused an imbalance within you. Unless of course you didn’t love him, which I’m sure you did, so let me ask you: where were you during the Battle of Sokovia?”


You knew your actual whereabouts were irrelevant to the case but his attempt to bring to light your minor lie would easily make any of your previous or future statements illegitimate.

“The location of Mrs Y/N Maximoff is confirmed by SHIELD as a need to know. And by need to know, I mean I need to know and you need to accept that it’s enough. Proceed.”

“Your honour, I’m sure the court would appreciate something more than need to know.” Clearly the prosecutor was hanging onto this to save his case.

“Unfortunately for you, that’s for me to decide Mr Prosecutor. Proceed.” This time stated with a lot of authority, he was forced to continue.

“Being an Avenger sure has it’s perks. Unless you’re Pietro Maximoff.”

Part of you wished you could’ve just outed Clint’s safe house, thrown all the Barton’s under the bus and been off the stand in seconds, but you could see the lust for answers in the eyes of the prosecutor and you knew you weren’t leaving as whole as you arrived.

“No, if you’re Pietro Maximoff, you don’t get to make it. You don’t get to live. You die at the hand of your team mate, the very same team mate you just forgave for a parentless life and just have to accept your fate.”

Before now the weather was cool. You’d had session after session with Wanda. Learning to keep your head level and the sky at bay. However the dam of your mind had a leak and it was pouring exponentially.

The hard pitter patter of rain outside was far more noticeable as the prosecutor continued to detail his version of events.

“If you’re the Avengers you get to go home at the end of the day. If you’re Pietro Maximoff. You die.”

A flash of lightning illuminated the court room which passed unnoticed by none apart from the prosecutor and Y/N, who’s eyes were stuck on one another, the latter with nothing but hatred and the other with a lust for justice.

“Ultron killed my husband. Yes, Stark created him, but he was only trying to protect the world. Fear can make us do very confusing things.”

As the rain intensified to a level just short of torrential, the case took a turn for the worst. The lawyer before you had run out of patience and quite honestly, fucks to give.

“The love of your life is dead because of Tony Stark. The same man who killed your parents-in-law, and countless innocent Sokovians.”

“He did not kill hi-”

Ignoring the loud objections and overruling he continued. Nearly shouting and shaking with rage he offered his last attempt at getting a rise from you. This was no longer a trial. This was something else.

“The father of your child is dead because of Tony Stark, and you defend him?”

“How dare you?” You hissed in a whisper laced with pure venom. “How could you possibly understand what I’ve gone through? What Wanda has, what Pietro had. How many battles have you fought? How many soldiers have you lost? How many people have you given your life up for?

“Pietro is dead. By no one’s hand but his own. He knew it was what he had to do, to redeem himself, to stop himself from a life of restless nights for allowing his friend to die, he gave his life to save another’s because it was the right thing to do. Why he did it? Because Pietro was the greatest thing to ever walk, run and glide on this earth. I won’t let you turn his sacrifice into something it wasn’t and besmirch the legacy of my husband. I’ll die before I let you.”

When you stood and when the rain and wind had flown in through the windows all through the court house, you knew not. But as your eyes drifted to the faces of the jurors, it gave you the peace you needed to know your point was received and would be considered to a great extent.

“Tony Stark did nothing but try and keep this planet safe, this ungrateful and sometimes undeserving planet. He did it not for glory or fame, but because he too, like my husband, knew his life was no longer his own, and he had a duty to save people with the gifts he was given. Was it stupid, hell yes. But I find peace in knowing Pietro found peace and Tony might too. Ciel may have lost his Father, but his Aunt is a living testament that hatred leads you no where, and peace can only be found within yourself. I’ve forgiven Tony, Wanda has forgiven Tony, one day Tony will forgive Tony and hopefully Mr Prosecutor you will too.”

Gasps emitted from almost every person in the court. Murmurs of realisation echoed, even to your right the judge was in shock.

“I too lost my husband at the Battle of Sokovia. He went for a job, his last before he came home so we could settle down, look into adoptions, be happy. But he had to go to fucking Sokovia. He had to save people, to make his life mean something. He always said he had a death wish, a dangerous sense of self sacrifice that no matter what I did always came through. Whether he was in the army, saving people from burning buildings or rescuing cats stuck up trees. He was always giving and I guess I was never enough to keep him here.

"So when the Battle of Sokovia was echoed to begin and troupes were called out, he didn’t hesitate. I was at work. He left me a message saying he’d be back in a few days. The Avengers probably had everything under control anyway, he was just back up.

"Then he died.”

Reaching into his pocket he took out a gun. Nothing huge, nothing fancy, just a gun, a very much loaded gun with the ability to rob you of your life in seconds. Pointing it at you with the steadiest grip, he continued.

“I wish I was that brave. I wish I was as brave as you. I knew you were probably my last hope at bringing down THE Tony Stark, robber of lives, killer of husbands.” He scoffed. Without taking his eyes off you, he addressed Tony. “This is your legacy Stark. You take and take and take but what do you lose. Do you ever lose? How about this, I kill her, and you have to raise her son. What’d that cost you?”

“He’d just hire a Nanny.” You offered, earning a hearty chuckle from the man who had his life in your hands.

“Yeah probably. He has an answer for everything. War? Build a suit. Aliens? Create a murder bot. Kill a mother? Get a Nanny.”

“He wouldn’t be the one killing me..,” your eyes flicked to Wanda momentarily, begging her to look into your mind and answer you. ‘Adam’ she put in your mind. She didn’t even look phased which showed you she had the situation under control. The bullet would never leave the gun. “Adam. You’d be the one killing me. You’d be just like Ultron, just like the bomb that killed my son’s Grandparents. My son would be just like the Maximoff’s before him. Let me be there for him. Let me stay with my son.”

The rain still fell hard as you half heartedly pleaded for your life. You could lie to everyone, lie and say you wanted to live, but the thought of joining him, of bliss and contentment with the way your life played out, of sleep eternal with your love eternal, made a powerful case. However the thought of your orphaned baby offered an image too painful to bear.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I can’t be brave like you.”

The next few seconds left little time for your life to flash before your eyes, it passed to quickly. As the trigger was pulled back, a woman behind Wanda grabbed her to stop her from stopping Adam. Natasha dove for Adam’s accomplice as Steve jumped for Adam. Tony was out of his seat in seconds but none were quicker than the ghost who passed you and moved the bullet with his bare hands.

The rain halted immediately. Leaving only warm and intense sunshine. The beat of his heart and gasp from Wanda were the only things to reach your ears as the blood rushed to them.

In front of you was the very man who continuously cheated the laws of science, time and now death.

In front of you was Pietro.

“I did not see this coming.”

I think i sometimes give off the impression that I believe tsukkiyama would have no problems being in a relationship and there would be no angst whatsoever. that’s not at all true

  • tsukishima has a tendency to
  • not talk about his feelings, especially if something is bothering him 
  • erase himself and his own wellbeing from the equation when making a decision
  • think that the rug is about to be pulled from out underneath him at all times and that everything is gonna go to shit. and then proceeds to accept it
  • so if something is bothering his significant other, tsukishima will bring it up and be willing to listen at the very least. if tsukishima himself is sad or upset about something you will have to drag it out of him with a tug boat like good freaking luck 
  • he will 100% run himself ragged trying to make a relationship work. if it’s important to him, he will literally die for it
  • will pretend to be okay when he’s clearly not
  • he will never fight whoever he’s dating. on anything. ever. and while fighting less is a good thing, airing grievances out when they should be aired out is also a good thing. but if tsukishima had it his way, all grievances would be ignored until they either ceased to exist or he acclimated to them. let me tell you, that’s so bad for a relationship not to mention his own sanity
  • at some point, tsukishima will think that the other person hates/wants to break up with him. and he will accept it and withdraw emotionally. he’ll still maintain a good relationship and he won’t bring it up nor will he try to preemptively break up with them or something dumb like that, but it’ll eat at him. he’ll be less active, more withdrawn. he’ll still care but he might act like he doesn’t. he’ll still be a good bf and go through all the right motions but he’ll be less emotionally there and much less open about his own feelings
  • yamaguchi tends to
  • lie about how he’s feeling. he’s the type to conceal his feelings when something bothers him too (what is it with these two?)
  •  put people up on pedestals/set expectations up with people he loves
  • so if something is bothering him, he’ll actually react a lot like tsukishima
  • he’ll also be prone to withdrawing emotionally when he’s distressed instead of talking things out, like tsukishima (these two…)
  • remember his “fight” with tsukishima? he had an expectation for tsukishima and that “fight” was the end product. Now, do not get me wrong, it helped and he was right. tsukishima was withdrawing out of fear. he could do more. but that he should do more was an expectation that yamaguchi set of his own accord without any sign from tsukishima that he wanted it. and while it matched up that time and there was no problems, there’s no guarantee that that’s what will happen every time. That time, yamaguchi was right in doing what he did–he judged the situation and the parties involved correctly and responded in a way that he believed would help. And he ended up doing a good thing, make no mistake. But it could have just as well gone very wrong–he couldn’t have known exactly what tsukishima expected out of himself or how he’d respond to being approached about it in that way. And yamaguchi is human; it’s completely possible that there will be a time his judgement will be incorrect and he’ll set expectations that don’t match up
  • in other words, he’ll be more prone to set himself, his significant other, and/or their relationship up for failure with his expectations
  • he will also run himself dry for someone he loves whether or not they want him to
  • he will also pretend to be okay when he’s really not
  • now put the two of them together…
  • prime miscommunication and angst material
  • worried bfs
  • tsukki is worried about yams, yams is worried about tsukki, they don’t talk about it
  • still a healthy relationship with two people that care lots about each other, just with bumps along the way

anonymous asked:

What do the slayers do when they LOSE A POKEMON BATTLE also other than each other who are they most likely to challenge?


Natsu throws his DS across the room and decides to take matters into his own hands by attacking his opponent, all while screaming “HOW’S IT FEEL NOW THAT WE’RE FIGHTING FAIRLY HUH NO WAITING FOR TURNS OR PP UPS TO SAVE YOUR BITCH ASS NOW!” 

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Gray, Lucy, and Mira.


Gajeel calls foul and demands rematches, and upon his losses he will always procure a team of his most powerful Legendary Pokemon to seek vengeance for his fallen originals.  He keeps doing this until he wins.  When it becomes clear that he won’t no matter how hard he tries, he throws metal darts at a dartboard all while looking at his opponent dead in the eye from across the room.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Levy, Lily, Mira, and Cana.


Wendy accepts her loss with grace and politely asks if her opponent would like a rematch.  If the opponent declines, then the day proceeds as it normally would.  If the opponent accepts, then Wendy crushes them and leaves no room for even the slightest hint of mercy.  Hence why most people learn to never accept the rematch offer.  Ever.  For the sake of their dignities.

Outside of the Slayers, she’s most likely to challenge Mest, Chelia, Lucy, Erza, Gray, Mira, and Bixlow.


Sting gets petulant and shuts off his game when he knows he’s going to lose so he never actually ‘loses’.  Then he demands a rematch.  And the cycle continues until he wins.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Lector, Lucy, Orga, Rufus, Minerva, Yukino, Sorano, and Jellal.


Rogue accepts the loss and proceeds to spend the next six or seven hours analyzing the battle from start to finish to see where he went wrong and how he could have done better to ensure a victory.  He never loses to the same person twice.  Unless it’s the Slayers, then it gets iffy ‘cause they’re all cheaters.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Frosch, Minerva, Freed, and Mira.


Laxus shrugs it off but he spends the rest of the day pouting to himself upstairs and it’s actually so childish it’s hilarious.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge the Raijinshuu, Mira, Lucy, Orga, Bacchus, and Cana.


Cobra never loses because he’s a cheating fuck who reads people’s minds so he knows exactly what they’re gonna do, so nobody plays against him.  He doesn’t care, he’ll butt into stranger’s battles and yell out the other players plans and ruin everything.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Lucy, Midnight, Sorano, Meredy, Jellal, Bacchus, Cana, Lyon, Kinana, and Flare.

God Serena

God Serena goes straight to denial and claims that the only reason his opponent won was because he let them, and he stays in denial no matter how severe the loss.  Most people humour him, though.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Lucy, Sorano, Rufus, and Freed,


Acnologia honestly has such a poor grasp of Pokemon that half the time he doesn’t understand how to mega-evolve, so he just takes the losses for what they are before moving back to the bar to mumble about “kids these days” and Mira basically calls him gramps for the rest of the day.

Outside of the Slayers, he’s most likely to challenge Lucy, the Exceeds, and maybe Mira.

Thanks for the ask!

Just a cute booty passing by!
Remember all, I do accept donations and all proceeds go towards sets and equipment! Every donator gets to see whats under the hood here~ Just shoot me a message~


TITLE: Anthemoessa

AUTHOR: aloysiavirgata​

E-MAIL: Feedback is ever appreciated at

DISTRIBUTION: Please just let me know.



SPOILERS:  The Fall/X-Files/Hannibal crossover with a splash of Orphan Black

SUMMARY:  A show like Orphan Black where Gillian Anderson plays Dana Scully, Stella Gibson, and Bedelia du Maurier and they all go around not putting up with nonsense.

DISCLAIMER: Breaking seal constitutes acceptance of agreement. Proceed at your own risk. Do not use while operating a motor vehicle or heavy equipment. For recreational purposes only. Driver does not carry cash. And, as always, thank you for choosing Aloysia Airlines for your direct flight from 1013 to fanfic.

AUTHOR’S NOTES: Thanks to dashakay for eta and general enabling,


That Phoebe Green brought this to her attention is somehow the most rankling thing about it, Scully thinks. She and Stella Gibson sit across from one another in overstuffed leather chairs, the kind with nail heads that make her think of Masterpiece Theater. She is embarrassed that the house intimidates her with its looming grandeur. The fireplace is oversized, ornate, and even the burning logs are picturesque. Scully wonders if Bedelia laid the fire herself or if she hired someone. She has the general sense that, when possible, Bedelia hires someone.

Keep reading

okay but imagine how charlie gardner feels

  • lbr he’s probably likes riley for a really long time and just image little charlie being devastated when he first sees riley and lucas together
  • he waited patiently and respectfully out of the picture for riley to be 100% available at semi-formal
  • in that time he elaborately planned out an amazingly sweet prom-posal
  • that got immediately accepted and then immediately rejected
  • he wasn’t upset. he still understood that he got the situation ‘wrong’ 
  • he stepped back without a fuss even though it was uber obvious that riley was making shit up
  • he went so far as to try and explain himself to LUCAS because he thought he owed him that 
  • then enter texas where charlie finally gets another chance, this time with a fully (what he believes to be) free and unattached riley matthews
  • who once again accepts his advances
  • who then proceeds to create absurd rules for their date
  • who then proceeds to ignore him during the ‘topangas’ scene
  • enter fucking lucas friar who charlie probably by now sees as the taker of his happiness, loudly annoucing that he and riley are not brother and sister (and have some potential left ew)
  • and hes pissed for a second but he calms down immediately because hey, riley matthews is right there in front of him and going out with HIM NOW
  • and even though im sure charlie knows riley’s putting up one hell of a facade, he puts on a brave face and tries to enjoy whats left of the night
  • charlie gardner is amazing and deserves to be so much more than just a plot device for fucking rucas

anonymous asked:

Imagine Luffy collects his crew in the opposite order

This one kind of ran away from me, and I doubt it’s what you originally had in mind anon. I hope you like it regardless!

The first time he’d taken off happened with a dinghy that’d threatened to sink with each wave that hit it. He’d had no beries to his name, no infamy and nothing but a barrel as his shelter when he’d been hit with a whirlpool that’d led him to his first.

His swordsman, his off-the-record first mate, his Zoro.

He can’t wait to have them all back.

The first time he’d done this, he’d set sail without a course or a compass - meandering aimlessly with a strong conviction that the right people and the right opportunities would find him if he didn’t find them.

This time, he sets sail with a clear path, marked on maps he’s had to learn to read while his navigator’s been – unavailable.

He sets sail from the beginning of the Grand Line, working his way backwards. He still wants to start from Goa - a part of him wants to go see Makino and Woop Slap and Dadan, but that part is far older than his body’s seventeen years, and that part has a message whispered with the dying breath of a man who is still very much alive. And Luffy intends to keep it that way this time around, which means he doesn’t need to deliver messages to anyone.

Nonetheless, the fact remains that he’d woken up in Sabaody and the rest of his crew is scattered in the first part of the Grand Line and the East Blue. And Luffy won’t accept anyone but his nakama as his crew, so that means he has to backtrack a bit.

This time, he finds Brook first. He finds him like last time, in the Florian Triangle; trapped in a cage death could have freed him from, living a life that isn’t a life anymore. He sails there in a small fishing boat, faring the Grand Line’s dangers in something that could hardly hold in water. But Luffy refuses to get a ship before he can sail under his Jolly Roger again, and he refuses to hang up his flag until he has his crew again.

Brook is stunned to see the young man jump to his ship, all grins and shouting about a reunion. The kid looks like he’s hardly even sixteen, and Brook hasn’t met another living human - not that he’s all that alive, either - for the past fifty years or so. Meaning that there’s no way he could have ever met this kid with a straw hat?

Except, there’s a tug in his heart, not that he has one, and a peculiar tingle running up his spine - it’s like the air around the boy is electrified. Had he had skin, Brook was sure it would have been pricking up with gooseflesh. He follows the tug in his heart out of curiosity, embracing the tingle and the weird familiarity that rings with the boy’s words.

“Oi, Brook, it’s so good to see you again! Say, wanna join my crew?”

He’s heard those words before, in another life. And just like then, Brook smiles and laughs with more emotion than he has since he was standing with another captain, all half a century ago. And, like last time, he says:

“I’d love to.”

And Luffy has his first and his last back again.

It pains Luffy beyond measure that he has to leave Brook in the Florian Triangle, but he can’t face Moriah as he is. He doesn’t have his entire crew back - yet - and his teenage muscles aren’t strong enough nor is his skin as durable as it used to be. His haki needs work and his attacks need some rekindling and practice before they can be utilised. He can’t really take on Gekko Moriah and his zombies just yet.

So he leaves, but he leaves with a promise to return with the crew Brook now remembers as his. He promises to pass Brook’s love to Laboon, too, and the musician breaks into tears and song when Luffy envelops him in a bone-cracking hold of rubber arms that wrap around his skeletal frame multiple times.

He looks at the Rumbar Pirates’ ship as it gets smaller and smaller, and he sails farther and farther until his nakama is but a dot in the horizon.

He sails to Water Seven, where he finds Franky. He jumps on Franky’s shoulders without a care, out of the blue, and shouts his greetings with a blinding grin. And Franky looks at the stranger on his shoulders just to realise that he isn’t a stranger at all. He breaks down in tears, exclaiming his joy at seeing his captain again, and Luffy just laughs and hugs his shipwright and laughs some more.

Then he has Franky, and he will soon have a ship. He can’t wait for the Sunny to be ready, however, because he’s on a bit of a schedule - somewhere in the East Blue, one of his nakama is about to be executed and two others’ homes are about to be torn apart by pirates.

So he leaves, once again with the promise to return. (Franky does give him a boat, however; acting like he’s personally insulted Luffy has been sailing in a goddamn dinghy.)

He knows Robin is in Alabasta, but it takes him some time to find her. She’s hiding in Rainbase, trapped as Mr. Zero’s partner just as she had been when Luffy had last been in Alabasta. When Luffy reaches her, he waits until she’s alone instead of jumping her with smiles and laughs like he did with Franky. It makes him sad to see her like this again - to see that she’s frozen her heart and pulled masks on top of masks to hide her true self. This isn’t the Robin he’s come for. This is Miss All Sunday.

Luffy gives a total of not a single crap about that. He leaps down from the rooftop he’s been waiting on when the last of Crocodile’s men leave Robin be, and he approaches his nakama with an inviting smile. He’s welcomed back with a hand fisted around his neck and a hissed question.

Who are you and how did you find me?”

He grins, not at all bothered or hurt by the cold shoulder, and he tells her his name as he meets her eyes. The hand disappears from his throat in a flurry of petals, and Robin gasps loudly as the memories rush in her eyes. The next morning, Crocodile’s been poisoned in his sleep and Vivi’s kingdom is saved. Robin leaves with Luffy.

They pick up Chopper in Drum, and head to Whiskey Peak, because that’s where Luffy knows he’ll find one more nakama. He catches Vivi as she’s about to leave, having heard the news of rain returning to her country. She grins when she remembers and thanks Luffy for the second time in two lifetimes, and she invites him and his crew for a feast when they’re all together again.

Luffy gladly accepts and proceeds to clean every last pantry and plate in Whiskey Peak of food before he gives the order to set sail again. The ship Franky gave him somehow braves it through Reverse Mountain.

Luffy gives Laboon his mark, which now encompasses not only his promise, but Brook’s as well. Laboon wails with joy when they leave, and Luffy grins all the way through Logue Town. He’s getting close to having his family back again.

They beat up Arlong with no less ferocity than the last time, while Nami watches from the sidelines with a look of confusion and awe. It’s fitting, as Robin points out, that it was a different half of their crew that got to kick the ever-loving tar out of the fishmen terrorising Nami’s home the last time. This way, they all get their chance to punish the monsters hiding in Nami’s nightmares. It seems like justice.

Nami has tears in her eyes when she faces the mysterious teenager who’d saved her village without any apparent reason. She starts crying openly, soft sobs hitching in her throat when she realises who her saviours actually are. Luffy has his navigator back again.

(Genzo makes him promise to protect Nami again, and he does. He’ll make sure not break that promise during their second round.)

There’s only three left, and Luffy is overjoyed. They all are; equally eager to seize the opportunity to start their journey anew.

They find Sanji on the Baratie. This time, they’re a bit early, so there’s no fight with Mihawk and no Krieg - just a shared look and a newly re-joined cook fawning over Robin and Nami’s incontestable sublimity, making endless apologies for ever forgetting them. They can make it back in time for Krieg’s men to arrive, Nami estimates; this time they have more people and no days wasted on two idiots getting lost on their way to Orange Town.

Usopp meets them on the shore, like he did before. He raises his slingshot and holds his little speech but, instead of intimidating the pirates like he’d hoped it would, all it does is bring stupid, happy grins on each of the Straw Hats’ faces. And like that, Usopp joins again. This time he takes Kuro down himself well before the man’s plan is set in motion, just like the brave warrior he is. Luffy is bursting with pride and glee.

One more and they can go back.

Kaya rewards them with Merry and, while the reunion is a tad bittersweet, it’s exactly how Luffy had envisioned it to be. He’s bouncing all over the caravel while they sail to Shells Town, earning a couple of kicks from Sanji and punches from Nami.

This time, he finds Zoro last, and just like with all the others it’s very different and yet exactly the same. One look is all it takes - all it’s ever taken - to get Zoro to understand, to remember, and then he has them all back. And demolishing a marine base has never been as fun as it is with his crew back together.

When Morgan is defeated and Coby’s future with the Navy is ensured, the Pirate King of both the past and the future cocks his head far back and laughs, shouting a declaration to the wind.

“We’re back!”

They smile with him and fill Ririka’s tavern with laughter and song. Luffy hugs them all, listens to Usopp’s boasting and Sanji and Zoro’s bickering, and eats until he’s bloated to the size of small bananawanis. He’s happier than he has been for quite some time. He has them all back.

Robin asks him how he’d been able to find them - how any of this is possible. Luffy lowers his eyes, puts his hat on his head so it shadows the top half of his face for a moment, and then looks up with the widest grin any of them have seen on his face since Raftel.

He thinks the answer is obvious, even if he doesn’t really know it himself. “Because nakama is forever,” he says instead, like it explains everything. “I guess we didn’t get it right the last time, huh?”

And that doesn’t answer jack shit, but none of the Straw Hats particularly care. There’s a feast to be had, havoc to be wrought and all five seas to be conquered, after all.

 A/N: Thanks for prompting, this was fun!

Me Before You & the representation of disabled people

So this is it. The mainstream movie that finally starts the discussion about representation of disabled people. Disability activists have been fighting for representation for years, of course. But in many ways disabled people are such a small minority that the mainstream never really got involved. Films with disabled characters are rare and mostly either tragic or ‘inspirational’. Sure, there are independent movies which paint a more nuanced picture of disability. But those films rarely ever win awards. I often bristle when yet another film about someone ‘overcoming’ disability gets a Best Picture nod. And of course the actor portraying said disabled character is able bodied and will be praised for his ‘tour de force’ performance. But I might write about this another time.

So Me Before You. A romantic tear jerker with two gorgeous, likable leads (Emilia Clarke and Sam Claflin). I was elated when I saw the first trailer for the movie. It looked like a sweet love story between an able bodied girl and a disabled bloke. They were going to the opera together, they went on an amazing holiday, they even danced together. Could this be it? The movie that finally changes how society sees disability and the (love) lives of disabled people? I was hopeful. But by the end of the trailer that hope had turned into something entirely less hopeful. There were too many dramatic musical cues for it to end well. Too many scenes in hospitals. So I did what every good spoiler lover does and went online to find out how the movie ends. And all of my initial elation and excitement disappeared.

The disabled main character in the movie goes to Switzerland and commits assisted suicide. After a whole movie of falling in love with a girl who tries to show him how amazing his life could be, even as a quadriplegic. The main character decides that he’s not the kind of man who can accept being disabled and proceeds to off himself. So she can inherit his money and ‘live boldly’. Let that sink in. Slightly hypocritical, no?

It is important to highlight that said bloke in the movie has it all: money to burn, a loving family and all the opportunities so many other people in his situation do not have. He doesn’t struggle with housing, bedroom tax, paying for meds or care or making a living. All these things, that can make life as a disabled person hell, are removed. He could live the most amazing life but decides against it.

Now Moyes, the woman who wrote the book this movie is based on, argues, that there just are some people who can not come to terms with disability. Who refuse to accept the changes in their lives. In an interview she stated that there’s always a couple of cases like that in rehab centers. I can believe that. But that’s not the issue. The issue is, that that’s the story she chose to tell. And she chose it because she wanted to write a tear jerker.

By choosing to tell a story about a disabled person who refuses to accept their fate, she is playing into every single stereotype about disability. That it is tragic, that it is impossible to overcome, that it is worse than death. Even thought she explicitly stated that a minority of affected people refuse to adapt to their new life circumstances, it’s the story she chose to tell. Thereby substantiating everything society believes about disability. And that is dangerous.

It is dangerous because movies like that, especially when they become a box office success (as this one is bound to) tells us how to feel about life with a disability. And we gobble it up. We sit in the cinema and cry into our popcorn over the gorgeous main characters terrible fate. Disability is wrong. It is life ending. It can not be endured. It ruins your life. Our worst fears are confirmed. I know this because I used to believe that BS. And when I got disabled I knew it was unacceptable. I knew that my life was over. That people would pity me. That I would never experience joy again. I felt this way because that’s the narrative I had been presented with. Because that’s what society and the media told me to believe.

The only disabled people I saw represented in the media were paraplegic athletes or tragic tear jerking stories about every other kind of disabled person. And I was not going to be an athlete. I struggled with this for 6 years of my life. Yes, not being able to walk sucked. But knowing I would never be happy again and how society would pity me was worse. I know it sounds unbelievable, but it’s true. Stereotypes and one sided representation made me believe that all hope was lost. And yes, it made me suicidal.

Now, if I could have seen the woman I am today, the active and happy life I live…I would not have struggled so much. Transition into disabled life would have been so much easier. Because I would have known that things could get better. Tat life could be fun again. But that kind of representation does not exist. Because it doesn’t feed into society’s expectations and doesn’t make for a good tear jerking story. And now disability activists are up in arms about it. Because we are DONE with being represented as tragic, sad, suicidal, worthless and pitiable. This has to stop. And so we finally find ourselves in the middle of a discussion about the representation of disabled people. Like our friends fighting for the correct representations of race, sexuality and gender we get a lot of push back. And we get shouted down. But this just validates our fight. Because as long as people tell us to ‘shut up’ about representation, we are not equal. 

So, as much as I hate this movie and the book it is based on, I love the discussion it has kicked off. Time to educate people about the realities of disabled life. Because maybe somewhere out there, there’s a kid who just woke up paralyzed after an accident. And they deserve to hope for a life worth living.