not in friendships, not in relationships, I don’t give up on people I care about. when things get bad, or we get a little lost, I may need my space but you will always have my love not a doubt in my mind. treat me like shit sometimes? use the hell outta me and don’t care? I’ll get hurt and upset but I swear I won’t leave you. let’s talk and work it out. I’ll fight for what I love.
Taehyung: Maybe if people didn’t let you treat them like shit then-
Yoongi: Are you done yet? *yawns*
Taehyung: No actually, I’m not, so if you wanna stop cutting me off, that’d be great. Maybe if people didn’t let you treat them like shit, you’d actually learn to be a decent human being and have friends for once!
A/N: I’m thinking about doing a second part to this. Should i? Anyway, hope you like it.
the only thing I could feel in that moment. Life was slipping through my
fingers and I couldn’t do anything about it. All I could seem to do was sitting
on the floor, trying to stop the tears from falling.
came right after. The tears had already dried; my swollen eyes could hardly see
anything. I heard the noise that came from the TV, my chest hurt. Everything
was a blur, and not only because I couldn’t see anything because of the tears,
but because my mind wasn’t even thinking straight. Trying to steady my
breathing, I looked around my apartment. There were smashed dishes lying around
the floor, a few picture frames also accompanied them.
Warning: Smut, dirty talk, use of a vibrator, all kinds of fan fiction clichés
Word Count: 4000ish
A/N: This is all written with love for fan fic. I’m teasing, not putting it down in any way. Hope you enjoy! XOXO
Your laptop is screaming at you from its spot on the motel table.
You ignore it.
It’s not like you’ve been waiting all day to check it. It’snot like you were impatiently stomping around as you folded clothes with Sam and Dean in the laundromat, as they took their sweet time at the grocery, as Dean dragged you to some fucking hardware store because he needed a specific type of wrench (the six identical wrenches he already owns just aren’t enough).
There are days where you love life to the end of time.
Everything seemed to be a domino effect of pleasant things going your way;
planned itinerary finishing on time, unexpected good news, maybe even a raise
in your salary but that’s highly doubtful but a person can hope, no? It’s all
the possible good emotions bottled up into a day, the span of twenty-four hours
oozing with nothing but smiles and giggles. Those days are what you aim for the
most, or at least, try.
This is a bit of a rant, sorry for any gratuitous swearing.
I know there’s the term ‘Mary Sue’, but I feel like there should be a ‘Becky Sue’, because both in fiction and life, white women are made out to always be the one who is right, the one who needs protecting, etc. There’s white privilege, and I feel that when a white woman against a PoC is involved, the privilege is taken to an even higher level because white women are always seen as the innocent ones.
I feel that the worst kind of Becky Sue in fandom and fiction are the ones that write stories where PoC only exist to fucking bow down to them and be there only to accomplish whatever goal they have. Like a PoC man sees a white woman at the beginning of a fic and is like–
'Omg, it’s a white woman and she’s the prettiest most precious woman I’ve ever seen and I know absolutely nothing about her, but this is love at first sight and I’m going to marry her as soon as possible. Nothing else matters. Not my family or my identity, nothing. I’m just here to please/worship the ground of Becky Sue.’
It’s fucking nauseating. Then they have the Becky Sue writers who make their Becky Sue characters complete disgusting bitches to PoC, and when they get called out for it, they’ll be like: 'Oh em gee, you’re misguided, you’re a drama queen. Like, just don’t read my story and let me have my fantasy of shitting all over PoC in peace.’
And then there’s the Becky Sue writers who write kind, intelligent PoC out-of-character (because if there’s a kind PoC character, white people have to knock them down a few pegs though shitty writing, jokes, or white-washing) then when this is pointed out they’ll be like, 'Omg, not everyone sees everything the way you do. I don’t care about the source material, I just want to treat PoC like trash.’
Then, there’s the Becky Sues that will make up excuses for their racism and microaggressions with fake (or real) excuses like: 'Oh em gee. I have depression let me write whatever I want.’ Or, 'Oh em gee. I have Stigmata and a hang nail so you can’t criticize me.’ Or, when all else fails, just resort to name calling and flipping the situation around (white women’s favorite tactic) to where they say the big bad PoC is being a 'troll’ or 'mean’, or a dick, asshole, etc. And they’re the victim of harassment.
Or, another Becky Sue will come along and be like, 'Omg, your Becky Sue character and her shitty treatment of PoC is the best thing I’ve ever read! This is better than any novel I’ve ever read! You’re the greatest writer ever! Like, your Becky Sue is SOOO down to earth!’
Or, they’ll be like: 'Oh em gee, pointing out my racism is a personal attack. Becky Sues unite! Take down the big bad PoC!’
Just because you have depression or whatever, that doesn’t give you the right to be a fucking racist, and to treat PoC characters like trash. It doesn’t exempt you from being called out or criticized either. If you can’t write (or draw) PoC without being gross, racist garbage. STOP - FUCKING - WRITING - ABOUT THEM, if you’re that fragile to criticism. (I guess white women compare themselves to porcelain because they’re fragile and crack at the tiniest thing–I guess their evil ways is also one thing that makes their looks crack at an earlier age too. *pettyTM*)
I think that white people who are adamant about writing PoC like that are TRYING to antagonize PoC. And may karma just kick them in the fucking ass, please.
Plenty of PoC deal with both depression and OPPRESSION on a daily basis. And do most white people care? Here’s a tiny hint…HELL, FUCKING, NO.
Representation and the things you write do have an effect on others. Don’t try to make excuses or pretend that it doesn’t.
Can PoC writer’s/fanfic writers and artist start tagging their work as 'PoC writer’, 'PoC artist’? Or 'Black writer,’ etc., etc.
I’m so drained of navigating through klandom’s filth, and having to handle white people (many who claim to be “progressive”) with kid gloves for every little thing because they can’t take discussions about anything that isn’t about glorifying everything they do, or anything that takes the focus off their white world.
I’ve been thinking about starting some rec lists of fanfic writers of color maybe we could do that?
Hold on to your hats, kids. This one gets a wee bit racy.
“So, the interactions between your characters, Jack and Y/N,
really leave viewers guessing. Can you shed a bit of light on their
relationship?” the interviewer asked.
You saw Jack glance at you in your peripheral vision. You
were doing your first press event - with Jack, Mark, Tom and Barry - for your
new film Dunkirk, and were sure this wasn’t the last time that question would
come up. You played Mr Dawson’s oldest daughter in the film, a young woman in
training as a nurse, determined to play her part in the rescue operation. Your
character was steadfast and resolute, like her father, but feisty and
hot-blooded at times. As Chris had given the characters so little backstory, you
had decided that, due to the constraints of her sex at the time, she had
developed a fiery streak. After arguing her way onto the Moonstone, your
character Evelyn had some small exchanges with Collins after he was rescued. Nothing
more than flirting was ever seen in the film, but the suggestion of romance was
clear, despite it having been absent from the script. The chemistry between
yourself and Jack on set was palpable, and infected your takes every time.
Luckily, Chris had liked the hint of romance you accidentally brought to the
“Aye, I think there’s certainly some chemistry between
Collins and Evelyn, but that’s the beauty of their relationship, in my view,
that it’s so undefined. Ye don’ know where they’re gonnae go, so ye get te fill
in the blanks yerself,” Jack commented very diplomatically.
“Yeah, I would agree,” you continued, “And I think it would
be insensitive to trivialise such a serious and important topic like the
evacuation of Dunkirk with something so frivolous as a whirlwind romance. This
film is about survival and community, so while it’s nice to see a little
flirtation, it would be wrong for there to be more than that.”
The interviewer nodded. “So do you think Evelyn kinda
represents the woman at home, you know, the lover waiting for her man to return
You fumed silently, astounded at how Evelyn could have been
interpreted so wrongly. You took a deep breath, trying to maintain your
“No, not at all. I think she represents all the strong,
brave women that refused to sit at home while the men went off to fight in the
war. Her getting on the boat in the first place, refusing to let her father
leave her on the dock, shows that she has tenacity and a fighting spirit. You
know, women played such a vital role in both world wars, not only in the
factories and farms, but in the armed forces too. And all those brave nurses
who saved millions of lives, and sometimes gave their own when helping soldiers
on the front lines. There are accounts of makeshift hospitals on the front
getting bombed. There are actually some historians who argue that Germany lost
the war because Hitler refused to let women work to maintain the economy. He
thought their place was in the home, having babies…” You sensed you were
getting a little worked up, but you simply refused to let your character be
dulled down to a two-dimensional love interest. “Plus, Evelyn is in training as
a nurse, so she is clearly determined to do her part. She shows women as a
force that cannot be ignored.”
You had to stop a smug smirk from painting your lips as the
interviewer looked at you in stunned silence. The guys around you nodded in
agreement, and Jack offered you a supportive pat on the leg.
The rest of the interview passed mostly without incident,
talking about what it was like to work with Chris and your experiences of
filming on the sea. Time was nearly up when you were asked what it was like
being the only female member of the main cast.
“Oh it was fine!” You nearly rolled your eyes. “The guys
were all really lovely, and didn’t treat me any differently for being a woman,”
you said pointedly. “Anyway, I was by no means the only woman on set. Emma, for
example, and a load of the crew were female so I wasn’t alone in my womanhood.”
“So no incidents in other casts member’s trailers then?” the
interviewer asked suggestively, raising an eyebrow.
Tom quickly came to your rescue, “Y/N is a good mate and
such a laugh. She’s one of the lads really, but somehow managed to keep us in
check too. She was actually a bit of a mother hen at times, so there really
wasn’t that kind of relationship. Anyway, we’re all colleagues at the end of
the day, so we had to be professional.”
You deigned not to mention that you had shared Jack’s bed
the night before. Not even the rest of the cast knew about you two.
“Exac’ly. She’s a great friend, ya know, and we’d never
disrespect her loike tha’.” Barry interjected.
“She’s a phenomenal actress too, which is the real point of
importance here. She’s good at what she does, so it never mattered to us that
she was a woman. She could be a bear for all we care,” Mark said with a smile,
trying to lighten the mood.
The interviewer, clearly failing to get the message to move
on, asked Jack, “So all that chemistry on screen, that was just acting?”
“Jus’ acting mate,” Jack replied, “it’s what we do. That’s
how we bring home the bacon.” He clearly wasn’t willing to offer any more on
the subject, so that was the end of it.
The interviewer asked a few final questions and you all offered
“Thank god that’s over,” you sighed once back in your hotel
room. It was your only interview of the day as you had the premiere that
evening so Jack, Tom and Barry had headed back to your room with you to relax,
and Harry and Fionn had joined shortly after from their interview. You’d just
come out of the shower to hear Jack finish retelling the event from earlier to
Harry and Fionn. They were suitably horrified too.
“I cannae believe ye were asked those questions! It was so
rude!” Jack exclaimed indignantly. He couldn’t
help getting protective.
“Well, we’d best get used to it ‘cause you better believe
that’s not the last time I’m going to get asked questions like that,” you said
as you stood in the doorway in the hotel dressing gown, towel drying your hair.
You went to sit beside Jack on the bed.
“But they were so obtuse and, well… derogatory,” Tom
“Welcome to being a woman in the film industry, my friends.
Thanks for sticking up for me though guys, I really appreciate it.”
“No, from now on we’re not going to let people talk to you
like that. Whoever is in an interview with Y/N, if she gets asked a question
like that you answer for her, alright?” Harry suggested, “She shouldn’t have to
deal with shit like that”. Everyone nodded in agreement and tears welled in
your eyes, overwhelmed by their support.
“We’re no’ gonna let people treat you like tha’ pet, you
deserve so much better,” Jack said, wrapping a comforting arm around your
shoulder. You buried your face in his chest and let his warmth seep into you,
wanting nothing more than to kiss him. A few pointed looks were thrown around
the room at your behaviour, but you were oblivious to them.
The boys stuck around for a while, chatting and messing
about. You however, were in your own world with Jack. You weren’t in a
relationship, per say, you certainly weren’t dating. You’d never been on a
date, but you had slept together a few times. It all began when the cast
reconvened for the press tour and you and Jack had suddenly found that you
couldn’t keep your hands off each other. During the shoot you had remained
steadfastly professional, despite the tension that hung in the air between you.
You had thought he might make a move at the wrap party, but nothing happened
and you drifted your separate ways. But, as they say, absence makes the heart
grow fonder, so when you saw him again, bearded and, if possible, even more
gorgeous than you remembered, it didn’t take long for you to hook up. Neither
of you really knew where you stood, so had decided to keep it secret from
everyone else. Mostly your relationship consisted of sneaking into each other’s
rooms at night and stifling your moans because the hotel walls weren’t that
thick. It was quickly becoming inadequate. You could feel yourself falling for
Jack, like you had toppled over a cliff without even realising you were close
to the edge, and you hadn’t hit the ground yet. You were dreading the impact. You’d
never talked to Jack about your feelings, and you were terrified that he saw
this as just a fling, just mates helping each other out. You wanted to tell him
that you wanted more than stolen kisses and silent sex, but every time you
tried the words stuck in your throat.
Eventually you shooed all the boys out, needing to get ready
for the premiere.
“Can’t I stay?” Jack whispered, his breath on your ear
giving you shivers, “It’s not like I haven’t seen ye naked before.”
You tried, and probably failed, to keep your expression
neutral. “What about keeping us a secret, huh?”
“Well, what if I don’ want to keep us a secret anymore? What
if I want to shout it from the rooftops that yer mine?” he growled.
Your stomach was doing somersaults, as you locked eyes with
Jack. The startling blue seemed to invade your senses, and you could practically
Someone coughed deliberately and Fionn said, “We best be off then, let Y/N get ready in peace.”
Jack smirked and stood up, knowing full well he had you in
the palm of his hand and was leaving you
to wonder, ‘what if?’. You were suddenly alone in your room, and desperately lonely.
You took a deep breath and began to get ready. If Jack wanted to play games,
then games were what he would get, and you had a trick or two up your sleeve.
You had been planning to wear a modest, black dress, but had
seen a gorgeous velvet number that was a deep, emerald green, in a shop the previous
day. It was so beautiful, you couldn’t resist trying it on, and when it fitted
like a glove and you saw how sexy it made you look, you bought it. You set the
black dress aside and lay the new one on the bed while you did your hair and
Two hours later you were dressed and you took a moment to
admire your handiwork in the mirror. You’d done a dramatic smoky-eye and soft
rose lips. You let your hair fall in gentle curls around your face. The dress
was the real killer though. It was a bardot neck, revealing bare shoulders, and
came to a gentle plunge to show just enough cleavage. It had long sleeves, and cinched
in tightly at the waist to accentuate your curves. It finished just above the ankle and
you wore classy black heels to give your posture an extra kick. You smiled in
There was a knock at the door, “You ready Y/N? We’re all
waiting downstairs.” It was Tom. You opened the door and his jaw dropped.
“Bloody hell! You- you look amazing!”
“Thanks Tom. I’ll be down in a sec, okay? I just need to
grab a few bits.” He nodded and headed off, somewhat dazed. You only needed your
clutch, but waited an extra moment – you wanted to make an entrance.
Once you got downstairs you lingered out of sight around a
corner. You could hear voices.
“I’m telling you mate, she looks incredible,” Tom said. “You
won’t be able to restrain yourself”.
“You best restrain
yerself though, eh mate?” you heard Jack say. You smirked and rounded the
corner, letting your hips sway and your heels clop loudly on the floor.
Immediately all eyes were on you. A few guys stood with mouths agape, Harry
whistled appreciatively, much to your satisfaction, and you distinctly heard
Jack curse under his breath. As you approached, Jack marvelled, “Holy hell,
Y/N, you look…”. He searched for a word that was tenacious enough. Before he
found it, you turned to Cillian. “Would you mind walking me to the premiere, Cillian?
I’m a little unsteady in these shoes,” you said with a self-satisfied grin.
He smirked and shot an apologetic look at Jack, before
offering you his arm.
“It would be an honour to escort such a beautiful lady as
yourself”. You threaded your hand through his elbow and set off, making sure to
swing your hips a little more than usual. You turned back to Jack for a moment,
biting you lip seductively, before turning back to Cillian.
“Y/N, you’re being cruel,” Cillian whispered before helping
you into the car. You looked at him in faux confusion. “Who am I being cruel
to?” He shook his head with a smile, but didn’t press it.
The premiere was glamorous and boisterous, and the red-carpet
interviews were mostly easy to navigate. You got a fair few comments on your
dress, which you accepted graciously, and the guys only had to fulfil their
promise to rebuff any sexist questions a few times. However, the whole night
you were acutely aware of a particular pair of blue eyes on you. When you
caught Jack’s gaze you saw they were deep with hunger and a possessive rage. It
was a little frightening and completely exhilarating. When you headed inside
for the screening of the film, he grabbed you by the waist pulled you into a
secluded corner. He tried to press his lips to yours but you pulled back. “Uh
uh, not in public.”
“Oh who cares! Like the guys haven’t already guessed. I’m
desperate for ye Y/N, you look so damn sexy in that dress,” he groaned.
“There’s press here Jack, to review the film. I can’t risk
this getting out. You heard what that prick said to me this morning, just think
how much worse it’ll be if people know we’re screwing.”
His face dropped, clearly understanding the repercussions.
“This isn’t just screwin’ for me though, ye know that righ’?”
The fear was painted clearly across his face, and he suddenly looked so young,
so vulnerable. You nodded, relieved to know he was in as deep as you. All you
wanted was let him kiss you, but instead you whispered, “It’s not for me
The smirk that you so adored was back, dimples and all, and
he bit his lip. “In that case, I’m going to show you exactly how much you mean
to me as soon as we get back,” he said, and sauntered off, once again leaving
you longing for him.
You had enjoyed the evening, but it couldn’t have ended soon
enough. The after-party was being held at the hotel, so you slipped away as
soon as you could without being noticed. Jack raced down the corridor, your hand
held firmly in his. But you couldn’t keep up with him in your heels, so he scooped
you up into his arms and carried you. You laced your arms around his shoulders and kissed him on the neck. He put you down when you reached his room to unlock the
door. You were barely through the threshold before he attacked your lips with fiery
kisses and kicked the door shut. He threw you down on the bed and you gazed at
him through your eyelashes as he tugged his jacket off.
Richie’s voice burst through Eddie’s thoughts but he didn’t feel like replying yet, so he let the boy think he was still lost in thought. His chin rested on his shaky palm as his eyes welled up. He didn’t think it would bother him as much as it did but his stomach was twisting and turning in pain from the rush of awful anxiety that he had felt when he stared at the name tag on that shitty red vest. He blinked and tried to calm himself down.
anyone else noticed the trend here on tumblr of worshipping certain famous women for like a couple months and there being serious hype for them and then like a month later everyone’s ripping into them and talking about how much they hate them
like, people always call snape childish because he couldn't let go of what the marauders did to him, but I'm damn happy he didn't. they didn't even regret it, so if snape had forgiven them it would just give them room to keep doing the same. thank god he doesn't take shit from them anymore
lmao maybe the reason i like snape so much is i am 100% this petty like…. i’m not going to forgive people who treated me like shit & i resent people who tell me that i should & it’ll make me a ~better person. nah. it’s cool. i want to hate their guts to the end of time & they don’t deserve my forgiveness and i wish fandom would let snape get to feel that about the marauders bc he honestly deserves to feel whatever he wants about them, esp considering we never see THEM apologize for anything they did
Hey there I'm new and I love to see proud Hufflepuffs like you. I am personally a Ravenclaw and my sister is a Hufflepuff and she's really upset she got it as her house. I was wondering if you could help me show her how great of a house it is 'cause she won't listen to me. Thanks ^.^
WARNING: LONG HUFFLEPUFF PRIDE BRAGGING AHEAD
Aw no! I hate when this happens to Hufflepuffs :(
I am so proud to be a Hufflepuff because we are loyal and compassionate, and that shows that Hufflepuffs are strong as hell! We are fierce when we need to be, but we can also be gentle and understanding. I think being compassionate makes us more open to other people, no matter what society tells us we should think about them.
Of course, when people see our compassionate side, they give us a lot of shit. People have treated me like their servant because my nice side, but I was able to get through it unscathed. The reason? I understand where those people come from. I understand that something might be going on in their lives that they need to take out on me because it was easier to do it on me. But also, my loyalty stretches from loyalty to others all the way to loyalty to myself. I don’t let myself get pushed around just because I’m nice. It’s a great balance to have.
Also, we have Cedric, Tonks, AND Newt on our side! All three of them are as fierce as people come, but also have a side to them that other people may see and not understand. Take Newt, for example. He loves and understands beasts, but other people don’t understand why. THAT’S ANOTHER POINT! Hufflepuffs are able to see the good side to other people that others can’t see!
All Hufflepuffs out there feeling like you are less important to the world than others, remember that you are the best kind of person! Hufflepuffs are amazing!
Oh, and just some quick things:
THE QUEEN AND ULTIMATE CINNAMON ROLL™ THEMSELVES ARE CHEERING US ON!
Hey- kind of a follow up from the last anon. If you don't mind me asking, you said that the terf that you mentioned earlier could be categorized as a twerf, but what's a twerf?
they, culturally, mean the same thing - terf, twerf, twef - but on a closer focus each mean something a bit different, and there has been an (unsuccessful) push to start using the latter rather than the former.
the phrase started as “terf” - trans exclusionary radical feminists. radical feminists who do not include trans women as part of their feminism. they are characterised by phrases such as “i’m a real female” and “gender critical” and other forms of hating trans women to our bone
then, we took a little bit of a closer look at the word - who are terfs actually excluding? is it all trans people? why no! they seem to (begrudgingly) accept trans men, particularly trans men who appropriate the term “lesbian”. as it turns out, terfs seem to actually pity trans men and take them under their wing; there are plenty of terfs who ARE trans men, actually.
so that’s where we got “trans woman exlclusionary radical feminist” from.
after that, it was simply a case of dropping the “R” so as to not let liberal feminists who treat trans women like shit off the hook. lots of people think “oh i can’t be a terf because i’m liberal!” yet still hold terf/twerf rhetoric, so, the R was dropped. another reason for this is because there is nothing radical about hating trans women: it is, unfortunately, the norm.
i use “terf” most of the time because everybody knows what i’m talking about when i say it, and also because most of the people who target me (such as on this blog and previously on my personal blog) have been radical feminists.
Hey! Okay so this is a little one shot that I just decided to write?? Idk, if you’ll like it, but let me know! I haven’t written ANY NaLu in so long sooo here you go!
Rate T for language~
Natsu scoffed as he saw the hulking form, that Lucy called her ex boyfriend, step through her apartment’s front door. He couldn’t believe that she had invited him to her party, he thought that they were over. He treated her like shit and she knew it, yet she always managed to get back with him. Natsu knew that they weren’t together at the moment, yet Lucy greeted him with a smile and he returned it with an apologetic smirk that Natsu knew wouldn’t last. Needless to say, Natsu was steaming in his own skin. Lucy had thrown a party for no reason other than it was summer break and they were off from college. Natsu was not one to object to a party from time to time, especially if it was his best friend’s. He sipped whatever nasty tasting liquor that Gray had brought back for him, and glared at the back of the beast’s head. He didn’t even remember his name, so he was just going to call him dickhead.
“What does she even see in him?” Natsu grumbled and Gray sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t get it either man, but there’s nothing you can do about it.” Gray pointed out and Natsu huffed. Gray was no help.
“I just don’t get it. He treats her like she’s fucking garbage and then goes crawling back to him. What a freakin’ concept.” Natsu swilled down the rest of the drink in his red plastic cup and rolled his eyes. “Where’d you get this?” Natsu gestured to his empty cup and Gray pointed over to Lucy’s table that held a punch bowl. That table was where he’d prop his feet up on lazy Sunday’s and he and Lucy would watch reruns of cartoons from when they were little. Natsu mumbled out a ‘thanks’ and shuffled his way over to the bowl, picking up the ladle, and pouring more of the red liquid into his cup. He might as well have a good time if he was going to be stuck in the shadow of dickhead. Natsu made his way back over to Gray who was looking off into space. Albeit, Natsu was surprised that Juvia, one of there friends who was in absolute love with Gray, wasn’t clinging to his arm, but he felt relieved. He couldn’t be around that right now.
“Hey, at least we don’t need to worry about school shit for now. Plus we’re seniors next year and then we can graduate and get out of this town.” Gray chugged the rest of his own drink and sighed in content.
“I don’t know, I guess. I mean that’s great, but I wanna know what Luce is thinking of doing.” Natsu pondered and Gray tutted in disapproval.
“Look Natsu, you know I love Lucy as a friend, no, a sister, but you need to quite wasting your time! It’s just not gonna happen. I say, leave your options open.” Natsu glared at his friend, his blood beginning to boil. Gray always managed to get under his skin, but he knew he was right. But mixing alcohol and Natsu’s short temper was never a good idea.
“Fuck you, Gray, you don’t know shit. Besides, it’s not like I like her or anything, she’s my best friend. I want what’s best for her.” Natsu retorted and Gray rolled his eyes and chuckled slightly.
“Whatever you say.” Natsu couldn’t stand looking at Gray’s ugly mug much longer, so he gulped down the rest of the punch, wincing at the poorly mixed drink, and stumbled slightly over to Lucy.
“Hey, Lu~cy!” Natsu greeted her, his speech beginning to slur slightly. Dickhead was standing next to her and looked bothered by his intrusion, but Natsu didn’t care.
“Hey, Natsu! Did you find the punch?” She giggled, her hair falling slightly in front of her eyes.
“I may have. But Gray was the one who gave it to me first.” Natsu pouted and Lucy giggled again, her eyes reflecting the fairy lights that she had decorated her apartment with. Her laugh was contagious and Natsu found himself laughing as well.
“You remember Jared, right?” Lucy motioned towards the angry looking boulder next to her.
“Oh yeah, uh, hey dick- I-I mean, Jared. What’s up man?” Natsu stifled a giggle for almost calling the guy dickhead for real.
“Yeah, whatever.” Dickhead replied and Lucy’s brow creased. That was why Natsu didn’t like the prick, he made Lucy upset.
“Don’t be rude.” Lucy muttered shortly, but he just rolled his eyes.
“Hey, why don’t you take your scrawny ass back over to that friend of yours?” Dickhead suggested with a laugh and Natsu swallowed hard. He didn’t want to make a scene for Lucy’s sake, but he really wanted to punch the guy square in the face.
“Why don’t you go sit in a pile of rocks, you’d fit right in as big and brainless.” Natsu shot back smirking. Lucy looked worriedly at the pair of them.
“Guys, stop-” Lucy began to protest but dickhead cut her off.
“No no, I’ve got this. I think I’ve gotta smash your face in.”
“Like you could keep up.” Natsu scoffed and it only made him even more mad. He noticed Lucy’s eyes glistening slightly and she turned away from them and ran towards Levy and Gajeel. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem is I don’t like you hanging around Lucy and I think you’re a little shit.” Dickhead replied, his face in a permanent scowl. Natsu had forgotten his name again. The room was spinning slightly, the drinks had started to get to him.
“She’s my best friend. You’re just some asshole she dated. Why are you even here?”
“Because Lucy wants me here.” He smiled horribly and Natsu’s heart sank a bit. “She wants to get back together.”
“You’re lying.” Natsu muttered and the guy just laughed. Natsu felt like he was losing some steam, but he knew at the very least he could outrun the bastard.
“Why don’t you take your dumb scarf wearing ass and find your special friend and get out of here. And by the way you little shit, Lucy’ll never be yours.” Dickhead laughed loudly. “I’ll be tapping that fine ass all night.” Natsu’s hand balled into a fist and pulled it back, ready to swing.
“Natsu!” Lucy shouted, tears stained her cheeks a bit and Levy stood behind her frowning. “Don’t.”
“But-!” Natsu protested, and dickhead made himself look as innocent as possible. “I’m outta here. See ya Luce.” Natsu growled leaving a distraught looking Lucy. Natsu flung open the door to Lucy’s apartment, an odd occurence since he usually came through her window. They hadn’t hung out much when she was dating the piece of shit that he left in there with her and Natsu knew that, if they were dating again, he would see even less of her.
“Fuck, Gray’s right… Damn…” Natsu slumped against the brick wall of the complex. Natsu heard a door open and footsteps set down the stairs towards where he was. “Gray, I don’t wanna-” Natsu stopped when he saw who it was. “Oh.”
“Hey…” Lucy’s sweet voice filled Natsu’s ears. Her face was that of concern and her arms hugged her small frame. Even though it was going to be summer, she was wearing far too little clothing to be warm against the chilly night air.
“’Sup.” Natsu mumbled, turning his face away from her. He knew that if he looked at her, he would crumble under her brown gaze. “Sorry for ruining your party. But what can you expect, it is me after all.” Natsu flashed her a halfhearted smile. When he finally looked up at her, he saw that tears were flowing silently down her face. “H-hey! Why are you crying? I-it’s my fault!” Natsu stammered. He never knew what to do when Lucy was crying, he usually just would scoop her into a hug until she stopped a bit. So, that’s what he did. He wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed into his chest relentlessly. Natsu knew she had drank a little bit too much herself; Natsu did his best to focus, but that damn punch Gray had gotten him was really fucking him up.
“N-Natsu, I-I’m s-sorry.” Lucy choked out and Natsu looked at her as if she had sprouted two heads.
“What? Why are you sorry, Luce?”
“B-because I invited J-Jared. I thought h-he’d be different today. I-I don’t know why.” Lucy explained and Natsu swallowed thickly.
“I thought you guys were gettin’ back together. That’s what he said. So, I can’t really blame ya for inviting your boyfriend to your own party.” Natsu’s voice stuck on boyfriend. He felt it was almost sacrilegious to even call him that.
“What? We’re not, I just was being nice.” Lucy looked at him in confusion and sighed. “He always does this… He treats people like shit. He never liked you and I don’t know why… Maybe because we’re so close. Oh! Sorry, I didn’t want you to know that he didn’t like you…” Natsu laughed lightly and rubbed the back of Lucy’s head comfortingly.
“I pretty much got that he didn’t like me. But I can’t believe that bastard tried to tell me you two were getting back together.” Natsu practically growled and Lucy let a few more tears slip.
“Y-you probably don’t want to h-hear this, I’m sorry.” Lucy cried out and pushed herself away from Natsu’s chest. Natsu immediately missed her warmth. “I-it’s my fault, but I’ve been drinking, and I know I’m a mess.”
“You’re not a mess, Luce.” Natsu slurred a bit, but he was sincere. If anything, Natsu thought that she looked beautiful out in the moonlight. “You deserve so much better than that dickhead.” Lucy lifted her head up to meet his gaze, and Natsu was startled by the intensity in her stare.
“Of course.” Natsu was perplexed. “You’re my best friend Lucy… I wan’t you to be happy.” Lucy tiptoed herself closer to Natsu, and he felt himself getting hot under her gaze and their proximity.
“Thank you, Natsu. You’re always so good to me.”
“I-I care about you a lot…” Natsu softened his voice as he looked down at her. She swayed slightly as she placed her hands on his signature scarf he had gotten from his father. “A-ah, Lucy? H-how much have you had to drink?” Natsu stammered as she pulled slightly down towards her.
“U-um, not too much… Not enough to forget what I really want.” Lucy whispered and Natsu practically audibly gulped.
“L-Luce, i-is this what you want? Y-you know, this is me? Natsu, Natsu Dragneel?” Natsu felt ridiculous.
“I know who you are. You are my best friend and you are amazing. And I may like you a little bit more than normal.” Lucy giggled and Natsu’s breath caught in his throat.
“I d-don’t know-” Natsu was cut off by Lucy pulling his face down to hers. She kissed him fervently and impatiently, their saliva mixing. Natsu squeezed his eyes shut and pulled her closer to his body, allowing a small sigh escape his throat. Lucy’s fingers played with his scarf, and then were in his hair, pulling him down to deepen their kiss. Regretfully, Natsu pulled away quickly. Lucy slowly opened her eyes, her breathing heavy. Natsu’s own breathing was ragged, and he had to shake his head slightly because he was more than a little excited.
“L-Lucy, I dunno i-if you want this.” Natsu managed to croak out and Lucy frowned.
“Natsu, you don’t know how special you are. And you also don’t get to tell me what I want and don’t want.” Lucy crossed her arms defiantly. “You’re my best friend and I’m stupid because I invited that asshole.” Natsu just stared at her silently absorbing what she was saying. “He’s not part of my life anymore, but you always will be.”
“I love you, Lucy.” Natsu found himself blurting out and instantly felt a raging blush spread across his cheeks. Lucy looked taken aback for a moment and then broke out into a wide smile. She hugged Natsu tightly and he wrapped his arms around her once more.
“Thank you Natsu.” Lucy whispered into his shirt. “I love you too. As a friend and something a bit more, I hope that’s okay.”
“That’s more than okay.” Natsu chuckled into her hair.
“Hey, you think you could take Gray home though? I think he drank a little too much and before I came out here he was stripping and actually trying to find Juvia.”
“Wow… Yeah, wow. That’s… That’s just… Yeah, I’ll go get the bastard.” Natsu let out a boisterous laugh that mixed with Lucy’s peels of laughter. Natsu wasn’t sure what had happened between them fully, but he was going to take one thing at a time. The first thing he was going to take care of the perverted stripper that was in Lucy’s living room.
A prof made us watch Behind the Mask recently and alll I could think was “this has to be Jonathan Crane’s all time favourite movie”, because let me explain:
it’s a horror/slasher movie that lampshades/explains the genre from the killers point of view
Leslie (the killer) describes how important fear is and stresses that scaring the shit out of people is an art form
they show the many preparations that go into creating a horror set-up
scaring&killing people is treated like a legit kind of career
despite the satire it manages to take a sharp turn and transform into an actual horror film towards the end and it’s just overall entertaining
it’s pretty sophisticated for a horror movie
Jon would totaly appreciate people acknowledging how much effort it takes to be a Master of Fear, also I love to imagine him having a movie night with Edward and just commenting on and adding to everything in the movie. Edward just tries really hard not to squirm.
There’s a retired married serial killer couple in there and they are kinda adorable