notes: i know what you're thinking. "absolutely no one asked for this." yes well, i am prone to sit down and type out unwanted things in the usual manner of 1k+ words. i would say oops but.
disclaimer: hahaha i do not.
summary: A million-dollar smile, the perfect swimsuit body, and world peace can't get you everything you've ever dreamed of. especially if you're unwilling beauty queens who don't want to be here in the first place. Givenchy is out, and Sabotage is in.
tid bits: beCAUSE STRONG FEMALE FRIENDSHIPS OKAY F IGHT ME. also probably endgame nalu, gruvia, etc. because i am a marshmallow.
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{it's written in her blood, oh it's written in her bones; she'll only be bound by the thing she chooses}
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i. pre-pageant jitters
Natsu Dragneel has seen a menagerie of drastically awful things in his grand life total of eighteen years, it's true, but nothing could have prepared him for what he just walked in on. His best (girl) friend is lying immobile on her kitchen floor, or at least he thinks it's her. The blonde is currently wrapped in a burrito of several blankets—he spies Star Wars, some bright geometric monstrosity, and polka dots—lying in a pool of hot cocoa and moaning inaudibly. He cringes and gingerly steps over her mismatched sock feet sticking out of her blanket cocoon and leans over. There's a piece of paper gripped loosely in her visible hand, and he snatches it up.
"What's this?" he asks, waving it around a bit in an attempt to dry some of the watery chocolate stains.
Lucy makes no move, but groans wearily, "I got in."
Now, maybe this would explain everything if Natsu had any idea what she was talking about. Or not, because this was Lucy and Lucy was super weird. Like, flying saucer sightings and snapshots of Bigfoot or Chupacabra tracks weird. Besides, he's no expert, but the younger Dragneel is pretty sure that people are usually excited when they receive letters telling them they got in to something or somewhere. Collapsing on their kitchen floor in a mess of despair and an abandonment of humanity isn't usually on the list. She practically has "I Have Given Up" written in offending red permanent marker all over her body. He snickers.
"I Have Given Up," the blonde sighs in defeat, rolling over to stare at her stained ceiling. "You might as well take me now, God. It would make my life infinitely easier. Please, I beg of you. I have like, three quarters. Maybe a few ones in my piggy bank. I've lived a good life. No need to make it any worse."
Natsu holds up his hands, mysterious acceptance letter (that he still cannot read because hot chocolate stains) in one, and sinks to the floor beside her. He's careful to avoid her shallow pool of wallowing and regret. It's quite possibly contagious. "Luce, what the hell is going on?"
She sniffles, and wow. Apparently someone decided to be brave and not wear waterproof mascara today. A mistake. She has made a mistake. "My dad entered me into a beauty pageant without my knowledge or permission, and according to that letter from Dante's Inferno, I am as of yesterday no longer just Plain Jane Lucy Heartfilia, but Miss Magnolia Contestant Number Twelve Lucy Heartfilia, exclamation point," she says the last part in air quotations. "My life is over, Natsu. Please hold the eulogy at my funeral."
Alright, in his defense, he can't help it.
He bursts into laughter. Very loud, very rib-rattling, "holy shit my stomach", tear-jerking laughter. Lucy glowers at him miserably until he finally settles down, choking and hiccuping as he cracks his brightly dark eyes to look down at her.
"I know where you live, Natsu Dragneel. I know what's precious to you. Do not think for a moment that I won't use this information to bring you down with me."
The boy rolls his eyes and glances over the apparent 'damned letter' that is finally drying. "Oh come on. Look, it says right here that if you win, you get a full ride to the school of your choice. That's pretty cool, right? You're always worrying about money."
Lucy bristles and sits up abruptly, causing him to get whipped across the face with some of her long hair that's dripping with cocoa. "I know about the scholarship, you moron. That's not the point. Look at me, Natsu. Look at this body," she holds out her arms, opening the pile of blankets to reveal an old Batman shirt that he's pretty sure is his, and donut print boxers that also look familiar. Not to mention her sticky hair and blotched makeup. "I haven't shaved my legs in like, two weeks. I can't be a pageant girl. I cannot possibly go up in front of thousands of people in a sparkly would-be prom dress. I'm a mess, Natsu."
He makes a face and reaches out to pull a few strands of hair out of her mouth. "Aren't you the girl always going around whining about how much you wanna be in Sorcerer's Weekly? You're always complaining about how you could wear half the stuff in those magazines better than the models. Besides, I think I have this issue of a magazine where there's an underwear model who looks just like—"
She slaps a hand over his mouth and glares. "Finish that sentence, I dare you, little man. And it's not the same, Natsu. This is different. Do you even know what a beauty pageant is? It's—"
"'—an archaic form of torture.'" Jude Heartfilia finishes as he steps into the kitchen, Sunday morning paper tucked under his arm and a fresh cup of coffee in hand. He hardly seems phased by the catastrophe (read: Lucy) in front of him. "Good morning, Natsu. How's your father? Your brother still liking college?"
Natsu nods at the blond man. "Mornin' Mr. Heartfilia. Igneel's doing great, and Zeref is…yeah."
Jude raises his World's #1 Dad mug in what the teen thinks is a toast. Or something. "Good, good."
The other resident of the house on Strawberry Street shuffles over to the counter, where almost burnt toast is awaiting him in the toaster. His baby boy blue slippers don't match his red plaid robe or lightning bolt pajama pants at all, and Natsu is taken aback for a moment by the sheer amount of non-coloring coordinating that goes on in the Heartfilia household. He feels like it's a family thing.
"I mean really," Lucy breaks the silence and sound of Jude buttering and slathering his toast with jam, "putting a bunch of girls in sparkly dresses on display? And don't even get me started on the swimsuit competition. It is January. January. Nobody has the need to wear bikinis in ten feet of snow. You know why? Because we would die of exposure. But at least we're pretty, right?"
Plue, the blonde's little Yorkie Terrier tromps into the room and immediately heads straight for the hot chocolate pond on the floor. Jude opens the fridge door in search of orange juice. "Lucy, sweetheart, this is a beauty pageant, not a witch trial or anything like that."
She wipes some hot cocoa off her cheek. "Dad. Dad. That's exactly it. It's sexism. It is a sexist display of girls in scanty clothing and dresses that look like they were made by kindergartners coughing up glitter. What do we want? World peace. When do we want it? Now! What's your idea of a perfect date?" she throws her hands up in the air, nearly smacking Plue as she does so. "IT IS AN INJUSTICE TO WOMEN."
Jude sets his coffee and plate of toast on the table and then hands both of them a glass of orange juice. Natsu takes a gulp of his while Lucy simmers into hers. "Levy and Juvia are entering, so is Erza. As well as plenty of other girls from around Magnolia. It'll be fun, sweetie."
"Dad, I don't know if you realize this but, girls are brutal. And pageant girls? Picture bloodthirsty Covergirl maniac harpies obsessed with hair extensions and sparkle foundation. I'd rather be reaped for the Hunger Games. Beauty pageants are basically like that anyway. They hold them every year," Lucy emphasizes with hand motions, sloshing her orange juice, which Natsu conveniently dodges. "Girls are selected to compete for a sash and a crown, but there can be only one victor. Nobody cares about the losers since they're basically dead anyway. And let's face the facts—you could totally maim a person six ways to Sunday with five inch heels. Six. Ways."
Clearly Lucy's seen the side to beauty pageants that Natsu never has. By now he's come to the conclusion that a) he's thankful that he's not a girl so he doesn't have to go through these things, and b) no wonder his best friend doesn't want to enter this thing.
The oldest Heartfilia sighs and sets his mug down as he turns a page in the paper. "Don't be so dramatic, Lucy. You are blowing this way out of proportion. Besides, you can't back out now! You're already Contestant Number Twelve!"
Lucy lets out a groan of disbelief and turns to Natsu. "Kill me now," she whispers hoarsely. "Save me from my fate. I will pay you. I will."
Natsu smirks into his orange juice. "I dunno Luce. I think you'll look pretty smokin' in a sparkly dress. Do you think it'll be on the tv? Haha, imagine that."
"See Lucy? Even Natsu thinks it's a good idea."
The blonde bangs her head against the bottom kitchen cabinet and stares blankly into the living room. "This is how I die."
Natsu bumps her shoulder with his and smiles. He whispers, "Hey, when they say you can't eat anything except celery and water I'll sneak you your favorite foods. You like the fat stuff, right?"
Lucy side eyes him miserably, miffed at the 'fat' comment but decides to let it slide do to his sweet offer. "Thanks Natsu," she says, voice like flat Pepsi. "You really keep a girl going."
"That's the spirit," Jude cheers.
His only daughter screams internally.
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end notes: please take note that i am absolutely not slam dunking beauty pageants. totally not my intention. this is a plot device. also this is so short what did i just write. i did not edit this. forgive my laziness. it's almost 12 am.
next time on: trailer park levy, erza is apparently a connoisseur of haberdashery and into the politics of pageants, juvia cannot believe her earmuffs, and lucy just wants to go home. also gray fullbuster shows up so there's that too.
