If you win tonight, I think we should bring you the Oscar —Ellen Degeneres to Jennifer Lawrence at the Academy Awards
I’ve never actually received anything before, other than a little trophy that I won at drama school for sword fighting back in 1997, so I’m going to put this next to my sword fighting trophy…
This is the timeline expressions of my day to day life decisions
seriously, why would you try to give him presents on his birthday? that’s completely backwards.
winter challenge 25 - trade gifts/donate
Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood surely is ironic.
oh the beautiful irony.
In fact this show should be called FullIrony Alchemist.
Inspired by every student whose told they can’t be an artist because it doesn’t “make enough money”.
sweet dreams are made of bees
who am i to diss a bee
i travel the world and the seven bees
Pairing: GraLu (Fairy Tail Fandom)
Summary: In which Gray learned some lessons in life.
Rating:T (bordering M)
Stripping is evil.
That was what everyone kept telling him each time his clothes flew in the air.
What the hell was wrong with stripping naked anyway? It’s not as if he was out to murder someone. Yet despite this fact, his fellow guildmates kept pestering him about his choice of habit. Well, as much as he wanted some peace and order in his life, stripping was something he’d never give up. Never in a thousand years would he stop stripping. Heck, his late master even encouraged him to wear (only) shorts for training, dammit!
“Gray, you’re naked again.” Erza commented on the sidelines as she took a spoonful of her strawberry cake.
Years ago, Titania would have smashed him into oblivion for stripping. But now, look at the turn of events. She would simply comment about his appearance and shrug it off like it was a natural thing to do.
“Uh-Yeah.” Gray sheepishly answered as he rubbed a spot behind his neck.
So why won’t his guildmates pester Erza to stop eating her strawberry cakes? She’s bound to have diabetes if she won’t stop that habit - her habit was life threatening, while his was not.
But nevertheless, he’d gladly choose Erza as his companion compared to his other guildmates. Other meaning, those who never appreciated, and those who over-appreciated his art.
One example of those who over-appreciated his habit would be Juvia. Although she doesn’t pester him about his clothes, she’d constantly make a big fuss about it – always having hearts on her eyes whenever he’s sporting his birthday suit.
Can’t his friends ever appreciate the Art of Stripping?
Gray sighed and proceeded to pick up his discarded clothes – with a demonic Mira watching him like a hawk.
One of these days, stripping would be the new art.
Believe it… or so he thought.
Title: Ten Seconds
Pairing: GraLu (Fairy Tail Fandom)
Summary: As he lay in silence, he closes his eyes and starts to count their memories together.
First Posted on FF.net: June 2, 2012
*Edited and fixed June 8, 2013. Jasmine, the apocalypse ended.
The hall is silent and only a small patch of light illuminates the entire desolate place.
Lucy could feel the emotions rushing through her veins – pain, anguish, sadness, and fear. Her face scrunches up in disgust as she smells the metallic aroma of blood drenching her skin and clothes.
She doesn’t know whether she would cry or scream in agony, because there is only one thing in her mind right now – and that is to save him.
Her hand trembles as she struggles to pull out the blade embedded inside Gray’s chest. It hurts her to see him like this, but it hurts her even more to know that she’s the reason why he is suffering.
She winces in pain when the sharp edges of the blade graze her palm. He seems to notice her discomfort, as he tries (desperately) to cover her hands with his own to stop her movements.
She couldn’t stand all of this.
She didn’t want any of this to happen.
But it did.
Gray is dying.
And it’s all because of her.
"Lu-cy." he says in staggered breaths; blood trickling down his chin.
"Gr- Gray, I… I didn’t"
“Shh, it’s okay, there’s…”
"Gray -" And she feels a drop of blood rest on her pale cheeks. "- I’m sorry."
He shifts his hands as he tries to pull the sword out from inside of him – but to no avail. It has pierced his vital organs, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before he passes out.
But it’s okay.
He knows it is for the best.
He knows it is for her.
(Because in all honesty, his life is hers and will always be hers.)
"Luce, look at me."
His voice is desperate, with the need to see her one last time - yes it is selfish, but a dying man could care any less.
Lucy tries to move her body but finds herself glued on the spot - like a lifeless puppet submitting to its master.
It is because of her weakness that they got into this predicament, and it is because of her that Gray rushed head on to a battle by himself.
Finally, she wills her head to look at his face. Her chocolate orbs fill with unshed tears as she sees his dull midnight blue eyes.
"Gray, please, don’t do this to me."
He tries to smile (despite how much his body aches) as she tries to mumble out incoherent thoughts about how she’ll hunt him down if ever he dies.
He feels every inch of his body burning up by the second, but he pays no heed as he slowly lifts his bloodied hand to brush away the crimson liquid off her face.
"Blood doesn’t suit you Lucy."