head above the clouds

Day Five Hundred Seventeen.

Crowded around a fading chess table
they sit, leathered and sagging.
A cloud of cigarette smoke hovers
above greying heads.
They laugh between coughs
and talk a little to loudly
in a language I wish I could understand,
As I pass by alone;

Starlight Fantasy

Our cosmic brilliance, bowed to kiss the earth
fingers plucking comets
from a starlit stigmata,
as tonight’s blush
calls us to sleep
we wrap the stars in lace
heads on gleaming pillows
and dream a dream
high above the clouds
nothing, nothing
but a marmalade moon
and a sky without sound…

In My Arms

Prompt: Reader is traveling with best friend Newt and is captured by her brother, one of Grindelwald’s followers, and Grindelwald himself, only to be tortured and brought along with him to Credence when he is in the underground of NYC.

Warnings: torture, killing family in self defense

AN: I imagine Grindelwald to be a 1920’s version of Moriarty. Also, please feel free to request anything. I will have a list of prompts you can request up soon.

“Hey Frank!” You smiled at the gorgeous thunderbird. “It’s okay, Mummy’s here. But don’t tell Newt.” Placing your hand on his head, you thought about the dark storm clouds above him. What was the danger? Frank calmed down and nudged his head against your hand. “Hey, it’s okay. Tomorrow, we’ll be in America and on our way to getting you back home.


You made your rounds in the case as Newt carried you through the streets, someone needed to keep his (your) creatures calm. Too bad that Niffler couldn’t keep his promises to stay put while you checked on the babies. When you realized he had left, you accidentally cracked a vial of a residue of some sort given to you by a dying creature the two of you had found in the Nile. Some of it touched your hand and immediately vanished. You were able to put most of it in another vial and clean up what you couldn’t, though your skin soaked up a bit more. You hoped the side effects were thankfully minimal. Many hours had passed before Newt came in with the little jewelry thief.

“There he is! How many times have I told you that the only jewelry you can have is the stuff in the box I gave you. Hello Newt!”

Your smile melted as Newt’s face became angry. “Y/N! I thought you had them under control!” This was so unlike Newt. Sure, he’d snapped at you when he was frustrated or some search had not gone well, but he’d never looked at you with such anger.

Finally it clicked in your head. This wasn’t Newt. You flicked your hand (wandless magic was a pureblood family tradition, and probably the only one you were proud of), and Newt had changed into a person you could recognize anywhere. Your brother, Y/B/N, also known as one of Grindelwald’s highest ranking fanatics. “B-brother, Y/B/N, please leave them-”

“We aren’t interested in them or this Scamander fellow you love so much. We want you.”

“I won’t join in someone who kills innocents.”

“Join us, or I blow this case to pieces.”

You were in pain. Do you go against your morals or let them die? Your parents were the typical pureblood Slytherin and would have wanted you to give in, but since you and Newt had become such great friends, you had decided to follow your own moral compass. “Brother, I am sorry. Reducto!”

He was caught off guard. In the pureblood world, slaying one’s kin was the highest of offenses, akin to being a blood traitor, which you now supposed you were. But that was no longer your world. Y/B/N’s protego was too late and the spell broke through. As he crumpled, another took his place.

“Interesting. This one’s loyalty knows no bounds.” And that was the last you remembered before waking in a dark room, magically bound. “Now, what is such a powerful pureblood doing with those monsters and that muggle loving Hufflepuff? You could be even more powerful under me.”
The face, mostly covered in shadow, had a disgusting smile. You looked at him, glaring, and spat, “I have a heart and a soul. I would give anything for them.” It was true. Newt had saved you from the life of a pureblood princess and for that you owed him everything, no matter how much he denied it.

“Ah,” said the face, sickeningly sweet, “so you love them? Fine then. If you must sacrifice yourself, I am happy to oblige. Crucio!”

Pain which you had never even thought possible coursed through your body. The world lost focus and all you could hear was the spell over and over again. Your mouth wanted to fall open and pledge your allegiance to him, but you clamped it shut.

Newt and the creatures were obviously safe. Your family was safe. You couldn’t let them be harmed. So you held firm through the pain. The curse should have driven you mad, perhaps it already had, maybe you already were, but something had started to block it out. It must have been that vial that broke right before your brother had come; it must have spell resistance properties. Thank goodness you had been able to save most of it.

Finally, he stopped the spell. “You will follow me, remain safe, and completely invisible.” You didn’t know what spell he had use, but you could still think properly so it wasn’t the imperius. It wasn’t until MACUSA’s aurors tried to kill Graves that the effects of what was in the vial fully presented themselves and threw off the spell.

Once you had full use of your legs again, you ran to Credence to try and separate him from the Obscurial. Newt hadn’t noticed you yet, and you hoped he wouldn’t. You didn’t want him in any more pain. With a flash, you had separated it (why Grindelwald hadn’t stolen your wand, you didn’t know) and started to contain it before there was a crack and you had been thrown against the wall.

You woke up to Newt at your side, your body having taken the blow for Credence. “Y/N, p-please, please b-be o-okay. I-I can’t l-lose you.”

You turned to his voice. “N-Newt?” It hurt to talk. You tried opening your eyes, you knew you had, but you couldn’t see. “N-Newt where are you? I-I can’t see you. W-what have you done with him? Where’s Newt?” You were so scared. He was family, more than that if you had ever cared to be honest with yourself. He couldn’t be gone.

“Y/N, oh sweetheart, I am here. Shh, it will be alright.” Someone lifted you up, hopefully Newt.

“Heal her. She saved your lives today, saved the life of this poor boy. Please, heal her!”

“I’m sorry Mr. Scamander. She got-”

“No you will heal her. She’s been kidnapped and by the look of it, t-t-t-tortured.” He struggled to get the word out. How could anyone have hurt you, his precious Y/N?

The President relented, to everyone’s surprised. “And due to her heroism, we will overlook your association with a No-Maj.” A healer came to take you from Newt’s arms and it was all he could do to not freak out. You squeezed his hand gently. You knew you’d be okay.


It was months before you were well enough to return to England. The curse had taken a toll on your immune system, and it had taken several medicines and spells and potions to get it to work properly again. But you were back. Back in London, and you were looking for Newt. While he wanted to stay, the Americans were still afraid of your creatures and didn’t want Newt or his case to stay for long. So he had to leave.

You smiled as you thanked the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, who always knew that it was a hot chocolate for you no matter the hour of the day. You had a slight chocolate addiction that was severely in withdrawal from the hospital. Now all you need was Newt. Newt and your family.

He came into the pub and Christmas came early. You got out of your seat and ran to meet him, pulling him into a tight hug. “I am so so sorry, I-”

To your surprise, he stopped your words with a kiss. He drew you into his arms even further and sighed, pulling back to whisper “Merlin, I love you.” Before kissing you lightly again. “And you’re finally home.”

“We’re in the Leaky Cauldron.”

“Yes, but you’re with me, in my arms, where you belong.”

You were surprised at the boldness of your Newt. But the blush on his face showed that it was still him. “In your arms? Are you ready for this Scamander?” Your tone was light but you still worried.

He kissed you once more, impossibly soft, leaving you wanting to beg for more. “Y-yeah. I am. You’re home, in my arms.” You leant your head and sighed. You were home.


Requested by Anon

She was tired.

Her head hung low between her legs, coiled in her own emotions she had accustomed too, and kept locked away.

She was very tired.

The tears on the brim of exposer, only added on to her misery.

She was alone.

Isolation; it was the thing she feared most, but wanted desperately.

It wasn’t her fault that she grew up alone, in a single floored house fit for only her and her parents. It wasn’t her fault that she barely had a piece of transmission with her family…she was shy and quiet – they thought she was different.

There would be days where she would skip into the cornfield just in front of her home, feeling the surface of the leaves make contact with her skin, and sensing the small pebbles that scraped against her shoes. What she loved most, was lying down in the middle of the field, shaded by the arms of the plants, and hypnotized by the white linty clouds above her head.

There’s nothing better than this. She would always say.

She loved to draw; it simply fascinated her how someone could create such beauty with only a canvas and paintbrush. She admired the precision of the brush as it was dipped into the paint and danced across the canvas.

As a child, she would take from her mothers closet – her paints – and isolated herself in the shadows of the crops, painting what she saw – beauty. She would draw until the sun kissed the lake, (it was just a fence past Mr. Thomas’ house and a path to the left.) It would amaze her how the paints would stain her fingertips; the mixture of colours reminded her of the rainbow she drew once. Her mother – already infuriated with her for invading her closet – would always refuse to let her enter the house until her fingers were “so clean I can see my reflection”.

But she wasn’t a little girl anymore; all was just a faint memory. She lost her innocence at a young age,

Painting is for little girls.


Drawing can’t be a job? You’ll never survive on that pay

Her innocence tattered once she realized society craved power and money. She hated the manipulation of this generation, it was the reason why so many children dispose of their dreams and do what society tells them to do.

Fuck society.

She lifted her head from between her legs,

Help me.

She rested her head on the wall,

Why? You wanted this. Her mind reminded her, she scoffed.

No one would want this.


She shut her eyes,

You did.


Her mind was her constant battle, it said it told her the truth…she was delusional, tired and sick in the mind, which only frustrated her more…she couldn’t trust herself, she was unhealthy.

You need a friend.

She pressed her fingers hard against her temples, easing the migraine that consumed her thoughts.


I have a friend.

A smile curved on her lips as she thought about Elliot. She met him while almost missing the bus home; he moved his knapsack from the seat beside him and let her sit. She remembered him focused on the ridges on the floor,

“You know,” he started,


“The world’s a shitty place”


During the entire bus ride, it was the only thing he said…and she couldn’t agree more.


“It’s like we’re the same person,” she answered quietly.


The bus ride continued, she watched as the crowd became smaller. Her mind wandered as she stared down at her tarnished shoes.


She noticed that he kept tugging on his hoodie, and held his head low.


“Why do you wear that hoodie?” She asked, biting her lip nervously. He shrugged, lifting his head slightly,


“It’s my favourite hoodie…I wear it everywhere I go”


She nodded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to see her with his hood in the way.


“What’s your name?” He asked, finally turning to her,


She hesitated on answering; she was shy, and thought back to what her mother said to her about talking to strangers.


“…Y/N” The reply sounded uncertain, as if lying. He looked at her and gave her a small smile,


“Is that your real name?” His attempt at sarcasm resulted in him sounding as uncertain as she did.


“Yes” She chucked, it became a habit to look down while she laughed, she hated her smile, she hated her laugh…and she thought by looking down others wouldn’t be able to think the same.


“Elliot.” He said, extending his hand out of his sweater. Shaking his hand, she couldn’t help but let another smile leave her lips, while thinking of her having the unimaginable… a friend.


Elliot’s not your friend.  


The pounding in her head ceased to vanish, it only travelled deeper into her head.


Yes he is stop lying.

Her bottom lip was held between her teeth as she fought the urge to scream, she removed her fingers from her temples and brought her head back between her knees again,

Just when you thought things were getting better…


The blood pulsed in her ears, it was never going to get better, she would always feel like this…alone, isolated and dejected.

A faint knock was heard from her door,

“Hi” Elliot said, seeing his head pop in from the gap of the door.


“Is this a bad time?” Elliot asked, shuffling into her apartment,

“I mean, I can come back in an hour no pro-“

“Its fine,” she said promptly,


Elliot nodded timidly; he made his way to her kitchen and stuffed his head into the fridge,

“Do you ever eat?” He asked,

“Other than ramen noodles and sour patch kids?”

“No” she replied, peeling herself from the wall,

“You should eat,” He said, pulling out a sandwich from his hoodie,

“I made it for you” He placed the wrapped sandwich on her table.


Silence overtook the room, as she picked at her fingers.

“What’s wrong?” He asked carefully. He never liked to intrude into her personal life; he only asked when matters were drastic.

“I’m fine,” she answered, keeping her gaze low.

“I didn’t ask if you were fine, I asked what was wrong”

She stayed silent.

He’s not your friend.


She picked at her fingers harder,

He’s not your friend.


You don’t have friends.

“Nothing” She finally answered, meeting his gaze.

Elliot nodded, before motioning to her T.V.

“Binge watch a show?”

She gave him a weak smile and kindly obliged.

Elliot scrolled through the selection of shows, her eyes wandered and eventually focused on nothing.

You’re zoning out. Her mind teased.

Elliot wrapped his arm around her shoulder once he picked a show to watch,

“You’ll like this” He said, pressing play.

Her T.V flashed the show Friends, it was her childhood show, but she didn’t want to upset Elliot since he was so thrilled to show her it.

Her head rested on Elliot’s chest, something they always did when watching practically anything. Elliot involuntarily played with the ends of her hair, and she loved it.

“Like it so far?” He asked, she couldn’t help but feel his breath on her skin, and listen to his quickening heartbeat.

“Yeah” She said, becoming completely tensionless once she heard him chuckle. Elliot was like her, isolated from the world and hid in his own emotions…it was why they got along. Hearing him chuckle was like seeing a blue moon…rare, but exquisite.

She lifted her chin so she could face Elliot. His eyes trailed from the screen to her eyes. His eyes wandered nervously,

“Y/N?” He whispered, scanning her eyes. The moment seemed endless with anticipation. 

Without a moment more, his lips were linked with hers. The settling feeling in her stomach made her heart pound, she felt wanted.

Elliot pulled away, giving her a shy smile; 

“I like you a lot, Y/N” He said, 

“It’s kinda scary”

She gave him a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she felt her cheeks turn crimson. 

Her attention was then fixated on the bickering of her vexatious mind,

He’s not your friend.

Shut up. She retaliated.

He’s not your friend, Y/N. You know it.

Aggravated, she turned away from Elliot and pressed hard against her temples.  

Shut up.

“Elliot-“ She turned back to where Elliot sat, but the space was empty.

“Elliot?” She called, leaving her current spot and scouted for him.


A firm pair of hands grabbled her torso and pulled her back,

“Relax” Elliot said, keeping her in his embrace. She felt warm tears stain her cheeks, as the emotions flooded her body. All the years of silencing her anguish trembled her body, she had no control. She turned so her face hid in his chest. Elliot’s hold became tighter, it was his way of showing comfort…it was his only way. 

“What’s wrong with me?” She dug her face deeper into his chest. Elliot pulled her from his hold in order to meet her eyes. 

“Nothing’s wrong with you okay?”

“You’re the only person I consider normal… you see the world the way I see it, a different way” 

Silence flooded the room, and Elliot pulled her into his embrace again, 

“Will you stay the night?” Her request came out as an almost inaudible whisper. Elliot stayed quiet for a moment. He then cautiously kissed the top of her head, letting out a comfortable sigh.



Yay first imagine! Feedback would be awesome! Hope you guys enjoyed :) <3

once, there was this girl.

she was shy, didn’t like to talk to people, so if she talked to you, you were lucky. she had lots of friends, and a boy who cared about her greatly, but still she was sad. she had a permanent black cloud above her head. no matter how sunny it was outside, her days were grey. her friends would try to cheer her up, but their efforts were unsuccessful more often than not. she had yet to find her blue skies. to find her happiness. that one thing that would push away the storm clouds invading her mind.

in the back of her mind, she always felt the burning desire to get away from everything. all the worries and sadness. leave it all behind and go on an endless adventure. but she was always too scared. never brave enough.

then one day she was at the beach. tangled hair blowing, clumps of sand between her toes, crisp wind against her back, goosebumps lining her arms. she had had enough. so with five seconds of insane courage, she just started running. her heart raced from the adrenaline, her breath short. and she finally felt free. she could have turned back. but she kept on running, and eventually faded into the horizon. just like that, she was gone. poof.

no one’s really sure what happened to her. maybe she eventually went back. maybe she went on to restart her life in a new place, without the current troubles. maybe she got swept away by the strong waves from the ocean. maybe she just kept on running until she couldn’t anymore. but at least she was finally free. she finally had that moment of happiness. she had reached her blue skies.

The poisonous frog and The baffled author

On a late summer day
I felt on the top of my head
from somewhere above the dreaming clouds
and heard in the bruised matter of my angelic brain:
a musical splash that spread like a hurricane storm
in a myriad of daffodils marching down the melancholy hill.
I listened with my ears wide open
and stared with my eyes in wonder
at the whole somber symphony and stated out loud
“I will never have enough of the blueness of this moment”.
Even couldn’t move an inch of my winged sandals
from the pavement.
I was waiting a helping gesture from above
when a small poisonous frog
came to google at my foolishness.
the frog started to laugh,
cascading tears down the cheeks
his small hands clutching at his stomach.
I watched with medusa eyes
the poisonous frog poking fun at me
but still kept my countenance bold and erect.
I had to protect my disturbed bones, my broken wings
and my dignity intact in which way I could.
If some smaller than you kids or animals
are laughing at you, mind me,
this’s not an admiration sign.
It means you’re making a fool of yourself
without any trace of shame and
I’m an expert in shaming and foolishness, trust me.
Sure, I love to play the guardian angel during the day
looking for the well being of battered kids
or other unprotected endangered species
but in the evening
I still want to be treated cool
like a glamorous damsel in distress.
After the frog finished with laughing
and drooling up and down the symphony street
I went on my way to decode a french bank account
with my apartment guest ( a petite mouse )
which is living since seven years in my basement.
Sometimes the mouse is throwing excessive parties
with a lousy band of avante-garde friends, garage noises
and messed up jungle and drum&base beats
that can live you forever deaf
if you don’t snuggle some clean cotton pads in your ears.
However, this weird poem is about me
and the poisonous frog which left the melancholy hill
and the official building without even a hastened goodbye.
This poem is not about my best friend, the petite mouse and me. That one will be another poem, I hope soon enough.
Until then I bid all of you peace, true love and harmony
and I take off my gavroche hat in front of this baffled author.
Oh well, I guess all we need is love and a beauty bath,
my sardonic muse and me, both being sick and tired and
terribly influenced by the earliest Woody Allen’s comedies
a little too much.

Cinders (What the Moon Sees)

Ichiruki. Angst. Set in an AU post-342 where nothing in canon after that happened. Written for @deathberryprompts‘s weekly theme. This week’s theme was ‘electric’. ~500 words. 

The flickering light of the flame cupped in his hands throws the bottom of his face into shifting shadows as he lifts the lighter to the end of the cigarette gripped between his lips. She watches as he inhales, as his eyes close and he leans back on one hand to exhale. Smoke clouds the air above his head. Rukia follows his lead and turns to face the sky with him.

The moon is full – heavy with the incoming summer heat, but the air is cool enough tonight that Rukia has to fight the urge to shift closer to him, to see if he’s still as warm as he always was. A breeze rustles the newly leafed branches on the trees and lifts the ends of her hair. Rukia shivers, and wraps her arms around her middle.

If Ichigo could see her, he’d chide her for coming out without a coat, but he can’t, so he doesn’t. Rukia can still hear him though, the mocking edge of his voice tempered by the thread of genuine concern for her well-being as he admonishes her for coming outside under-dressed. He’d grumble and swing off the roof and down through his open window to bring her a blanket, and then fuss with it until he was sure it was properly wrapped around her shoulders before settling back down beside her.

He always sat too close to her. Close enough that their knees would touch, that their shoulders would brush, that it would have been far too easy for her to place her hand on top of his, for her to lace their fingers together, for her to lean into him and lift her chin and meet him halfway.

She never does, because she’s dead and he’s alive and there are some lines that she won’t cross.

Ichigo has no such compunction, and on a sultry night in August, with the moon barely a sliver above them, he’d pressed her back against the roof and the memory of the moment makes her flush now. She remembers lying next to him afterwards, in the shadowed darkness of his bedroom. He’d fallen asleep, the curve of a smile on his face, but she lay awake, her skin buzzing with leftover electricity.

She wondered then, if she’d be able to let him go - because it was always inevitable that she’d have to choose duty over love and that he should choose life over death. That Ichigo would not allow her to make the choice was an altogether unexpected outcome and the paradigm shift sent her into a near tailspin, until the choice was made for both of them and she left him on the street in front of his house for the final time.

Now though, now he just smokes through his cigarette and flicks the butt down off the edge of the roof and then leans back on both elbows, to look up at the moon. He only ever has the one, and Rukia wonders if he realizes that he is more and more like his father with every passing year.

She was a beautiful dreamer. The kind of girl, who kept her head in the clouds, loved above the stars and left regret beneath the earth she walked on.
—  Robert M. Drake

Yeah, okay, sure, because why not? This turned out to be a lot longer than I expected, so HAHAHA have some teacher!gray and student!juvia. This is what happens when I’m inspired.

The first time she saw him was inside the busy lines of the midnight train.

Juvia Lockser believed she was nothing special, and went about living her life with that sentiment in mind. She was a silent girl, keeping to herself most of the time and talking only when absolutely needed. Her life was a series of boring and repeated events, a mixture of dull routines and reoccurring nightmares.

She felt as if she was stuck in a void, a dark place where no one could reach her. Not a single soul dared to approach her, for some unknown reason, and the constant alone-ness caused her to look as if there was a cloud above her head, spouting storms and raining above her every single day. The darkness, though unbearable, was somehow a savior, and she found herself embracing her gloominess far more than necessary, the non existent rain cloud above her head pouring over her like an endless bucket.

Juvia sighed inaudibly as she entered her card into the slot, the object popping out on the other side like toasted bread. She grabbed it with practiced ease, shoving it in her pocket and heading on towards the train. The clock read 11:11, and the girl couldn’t help but mutter a silent wish at the thought of an old myth.

Please. Her eyes were empty as she watched the train approach, the blinding white lights a stark contrast to the darkness. She will accept any miracle. Just please. The lights were approaching, and she clutched the bag she was holding tighter, as if the action would make her wish come true. Juvia wants the rain to go away.

Suddenly everything was a blur, and the next thing she knew, her dark blue hair was flying around her, her eyes wide as she watched the train pass in front of her, the painted colors resembling rainbows and butterflies and sunshine and happiness. Who painted trains like that these days?

“Are you crazy?”

She could feel her heart pounding on her chest, and she blinked, noticing that her back had hit something soft, and that a pair of arms were around her—she was absolutely horrified when she thought she wanted to stay like that forever. Her bag hung on her wrist, and she pushed it backwards, letting it settle on the area above her elbows. Her hands were turned into fists, and she appeared to be gripping the sleeves of whoever wrapped their arms around her. She could feel her lip trembling in fear, and she quivered when the train came to an abrupt stop.

She uncurled her fists, letting go of the sleeve that she had previously clung onto. She looked back to face whoever had grabbed her, only to meet a pair of dark eyes glaring back at her stare. Dark bangs fell forth his face, and she resisted the urge to push them a little bit further up, to get a better view of his features.

The train doors opened, and she soon found herself being pushed inside by the man none-too-gently. There were very few people, and a little later she was already seated on a bench, in the middle of an old lady and a very drunk-looking man, across the man who had apparently just prevented her from needing plastic surgery.

He looked older than her, with shaggy dark hair and a scar on his forehead, a little above his left eyebrow. He was wearing a suit, the first three buttons undone, his tie hanging loosely on his neck. A briefcase was settled beside him, as was a plastic envelope filled with various papers inside. His eyes were still set in a glare as he looked at her, studying her.

There was no one beside him, and she sucked in a breath as the train closed its doors, ready to head on to the next stop. She had wished for a miracle. For some reason, faith had decided to give her a glaring man with some sort of stripping problem. Her heart was thundering in her chest, and she knew that her cheeks were reddening as she sat, what with the heat she could feel radiating off of them. Releasing the breath she had been holding, she gathered her courage and strengthened herself.

With hesitant legs and shaking hands, she walked over to the man, sitting beside him and trying to act as nonchalant as possible when he flashed her a questioning glance. “Thank you,” she whispered, loud enough for him to hear.

“Are you crazy?” He had repeated his previous statement, and had she not been nervous, she would have reprimanded him for his rudeness. She shook her head, looking away as she blushed.

“Juvia was… Watching the train’s lights,” she explained weakly, playing with the straps of her bag. “It just seemed so entrancing, and she—“

“You could have died, you know,” the man told her, and she returned her gaze to him, seeing him leaning on the window, watching the passing lights outside it. “You’re lucky.”

“Juvia was also wishing for a miracle,” she added in, feeling the need to say why exactly she was so out of it.

“A miracle?” He echoed, and she flinched at the way he spat it out as if the mere word disgusted him.

“Yes. A miracle,” she confirmed, nodding her head. “My name is Juvia Lockser.”

“We are now at Magnolia station. Please take care of your belongings. Next stop, Rainfell station. We are now at Magnolia station. Please take care of your belongings. Next stop, Rainfell Station.”

“This is my stop,” the man said, and he grabbed his briefcase, glancing back at the blue haired girl. “Nice meeting you.”

And with those words, he was gone, and she was left alone, her hand outstretched.

The train doors closed, and the passing of street lights resumed. The darkness was eating away from the outside, and the train’s boarders were quieter than before.

“Juvia still hadn’t learned your name.”

She had accompanied Gajeel to their school.

Her uniform was a beautiful fit, and the royal blue worked incredibly well with her hair. Despite the dull and somewhat nun-like appearance of the outfit, she was strangely contented, and was comfortable with parading around wearing her school’s emblem on her chest.

“Think about it Gajeel-kun, you’re going to be my teacher!” She grinned at him, only to receive an eye roll from the man. “PE will never be boring for Juvia! She will support you! Redfox-sensei!”

The dark haired man bit back the urge to vomit at the term, and he glared at Juvia, his red eyes glinting with malice. “Five years. That’s our age gap. You don’t need to call me teacher. Don’t even think about calling me that in fucking public.”

“But Gajeel-kun, it wouldn’t really seem right for Juvia to be calling you ‘Gajeel-kun’ when all the other students who are her age are calling him Redfox-sensei,” she remarked teasingly. She then tried to steer away from the original topic, perfectly “I’m sure Miss Levy Mcgarden will need your assistance as always.”

“She’s a student, get your mind out of the gutter,” he told her, resisting the urge to punch the crap out of his only friend. “That shrimp’s all talk and no bite, completely worthless at sports.”

“Yes, but she’s still the best at academics, so you can’t insult her there,” Juvia stated, glancing as Gajeel “pfft”ed. “You give her passing grades in Physical Education even though you say she sucks at everything you tell us to do, and you—“

“Get to class,” Gajeel interrupted gruffly, shoving her inside her classroom. She hadn’t even realized they had already arrived, and she watched as her tall friend went the opposite direction, obviously headed to the faculty. A few students cowered as he passed, and Juvia smiled at the thought of the big, bad, scary teacher falling head over heels for the academic queen.

The blue haired girl placed her bag on her desk, pulling back her chair as she sat. There were already a few students in, such as Laki Olietta, who seemed entranced with her wooden sculptures, Bisca Mulan, who was with her boyfriend Alzack Connell, and Lucy Heartfilia, who was seated right beside her.

The class soon slowly filled with students, and the noise and chatter rose as more and more people entered. Juvia played with the edge of her pencil, running her thumb over the teru teru bozu doll she had attached at the tip, playing with the stitches.

She was tired, and incredibly bored with her life.

The miracle from long ago had long since passed, and she was once again forced to deal with the pathetic short comings of her dull, every day life. This was going to be another hell of a school year, but she would, as usual be facing it without luster, without joy, and only a mean teacher as some sort of friend. Juvia sighed, closing her eyes and placing her head on the table, the smooth wood meeting her forehead.

She kept her eyes closed even when the chatter died down, and the door opened and closed to reveal the entrance of the teacher.

“Fullbuster.” She knew that voice. Juvia sat straight up in surprise, her blue locks bouncing over her shoulders at the sudden movement, her eyes as wide as saucers. “Gray Fullbuster.”

His hair was as messy as ever, and his eyes were set in a glare like always. His suit was now buttoned, and his tie was tied around his neck properly like it should have been, but his fingers were playing with the edge of his collars, tugging as if he wanted his clothing off.

Here was the boy who had saved her, standing in front of her like some sort of prince.

And he was her teacher.

Suddenly it was like that fateful night again, for her heart was pounding just as quick as it had the very first time she met him, and her stomach fluttered with joy and a feeling she couldn’t place. She knew that he would recognize her if he saw her (crazy girl who was about to lose her nose to a train because she was wishing for a miracle was probably what he thought of her, no doubt), yet she felt no need to hide her face like she normally would.

He was speaking, talking about schedules and subjects and seminars, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to listen, and was entranced by the way his hair hung just above his eyes. She loved the way his fingers would make their way to his collar, before he would put them down again, and would proceed on drumming the edges of his table as he spoke. She loved his voice, the way he talked, and the way his hair fell just around his face, framing it.

She was so transfixed with just staring at him that she didn’t even realize that said person was now looking at her directly, his face contorted in surprise. She didn’t even hear him say “dismissed,” and she couldn’t even feel the hustle and bustle that followed his previous statement. Soon, the students that had previously been sitting next, in front, beside and behind her were out the door, in their rush to get to their next class.

“You’re still here,” he said then, and Juvia snapped out of her trance, blinking as she did so.

“Gray-sama,” she whispered, pushing her notebook in her bag and looking at the man in awe. “You’re Juvia’s savior.”

He looked a little irritated, with the way he glared at her and his mouth set in a grim line. “Fullbuster-sensei to you,” he told her, shoving papers inside his briefcase. “Juvia, right?”

She nearly jumped out of her seat as he said her name, her heart leaping in joy. “Yes, Gray-sama!” She replied, nodding fervently. “It’s been so long since she’s last seen you!”

“Two months isn’t that long,” he stated dryly, locking the object in his hand and heaving it upward, allowing his arm to hang on the side of his body, the briefcase in hand. “You should get to class. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Again, he was gone.

Juvia stood in the empty classroom, blinking as though she was trying to wake herself up from a dream. Students from the next class were now filing in, and she forced herself to get out, pushing her body out the door, her eyes magnetically searching for the person who made her heart pound the way it did.

“She’s finally learned your name,” she whispered, and her mouth stretched out into a smile. “And you remembered hers.”

Gray groaned as he looked up at the persistent girl in front of him. “Juvia, for the millionth time,” he sharpened his tone. “It’s Fullbuster-sensei. Get it right or I swear I’ll kick you out of my class the next time I see you.”

She giggled, and he could feel a vein throb in his head. “You always say that,” she told him, smiling as she did so. “You never kicked me out of any of your classes, Gray-sama.” With surprising ease, she lifted up a lunchbox in front of his face, practically shoving it. “Juvia made this for you,” she said, a light blush tinting her cheeks.

“Look, I appreciate it, really.” He glanced at the marvelous lunch in front of him, his stomach grumbling as he eyed the contents. “But I don’t accept gifts from students. Please.”

Juvia sighed, and lowered the box down as she stared at the closed door. Every single lunch time, she would make her way to Gray’s classroom and find him sitting there, countless amounts of artworks piling his desk. After a few days of stalki—observing, the girl finally mustered up the courage to talk to him, and make him a lunchbox to at least make up for her intrusions. She’d try to coax him into eating something, but he would always refuse, with the excuse of being far busier than he looked. Surprisingly enough, he wouldn’t complain about her presence, but he did reject her advances.

“You don’t do much at lunch, do you?”

Juvia’s head snapped back at the sound of Gray’s voice, only to see him grading another paper. “Juvia is a rain woman,” she answered. “She doesn’t really have any friends, aside from Gajeel-kun, but he’s always busy. No one wants to make friends with a rain woman.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something, but the man closed his mouth, resuming his gaze at the countless amounts of paper laid out in front of him. “So you choose to pester me here?”

“Is Juvia being a bother to you?” She asked, and he noticed the slight fear that passed her blue eyes. “She’s sorry. Maybe she should leave now—“

“Help me grade,” he interrupted, kicking the chair beside him in her direction. “Make some use of that presence of yours.”

Gray pretended not to notice the way her eyes lit up at his words, and the way she grinned like an idiot and ran to sit beside him, joy evident on her face. “She’d be happy to help!” She proclaimed, grabbing a stack of papers and pulling put a pen from her pocket. He pretended not to notice the look on her face when she stated her next words, “Thank you, Gray-sama.”


“Love rival,” Juvia hissed as Lucy made her way to Gray’s desk, an artwork in her hands. She watched as the blonde grinned at the teacher, before handing him the paper. Gray took it immediately, mentioning a few errors, and gave it back to her. Lucy nodded, and headed back to her seat.

“Hey, Juvia,” she said, showing the paper to the blue-haired girl. “You’re amazing at arts,” the blonde continued honestly,, and Juvia felt her anger ebb a little at the compliment. “Please tell me how I can fix this!” She begged, tugging on the girl’s sleeve. “Natsu ruined it for me last night when he dropped by my apartment.”

“Well, love rival.” Juvia ignored the way Lucy flinched and echoed her nickname for her. “If you added a little bit of orange to the yellow, you’ll be able to achieve the perfect glow. The palette you should be using are the colors red, yellow, orange, white, and just a bit of black. Does that make sense, somehow?”

“Love rival, though?” Lucy asked, tilting her head to the side in curiosity. “Who do you love, Juvia?”

“Gray-sama is Juvia’s,” she blurted out immediately, before her cheeks reddened in embarrassment at her boldness. She looked at her lap, fiddling with her thumbs and curling and uncurling her fists in slight shame. “She means—uhh—“

“Gray?” Lucy repeated, and the blonde cast a glance at the man sitting behind the desk, watching the students with that stern gaze of his. “You mean Fullbuster-sensei? That’s his first name, right?”

Juvia nodded slowly, her cheeks still searing with heat when she placed her palms over them to cool it. “He… .saved Juvia,” she told the girl with all honesty, the thought of his arms around her passing her mind, and she reddened even more. “He’s Juvia’s miracle.”

“Ohoho,” Lucy chuckled, her brain immediately working its gears. “I’d love to see how that story turned out. Come on, tell me.”

So she did. She told her how they first met, watching as Lucy’s eyes sparkled with delight. She told her how she usually helped the man grade papers, and how she made him lunch every single day (although he’d reject it just as often). She told her how Gray made her heart flutter, how he made butterflies appear in her stomach, and how he made her fingers tremble at a mere glance.

By the end of her tale, Lucy was smiling at her like an idiot, and the girl took two of Juvia’s hands in hers, clasping them tightly as her grin widened. “That was amazing!” She said, surprised at the quiet, blue-haired girl’s story. “I promise I’ll be cheering you on. I’m sure you’ll be able to melt that ice cold heart of his! You’ve been trying so hard, after all.”

“Ice cold heart?” Juvia echoed, and Lucy nodded.

“Yeah, that man’s a mean one,” the blonde confirmed, and Juvia couldn’t help but chuckle at her comment. “You know who can help? My best friend, Levy Mcgarden! I’m sure she’ll be able to teach you some,” Lucy cleared her throat, a mischievous look gracing her beautiful face, “tips to get the teacher you’re in love with around your little finger.”

“Gajeel-kun is head over heels for her,” Juvia inserted, and the look of joy that filled Lucy’s face was priceless. “But don’t tell her I told you that, because if you do, Juvia’s mangled remains will be found plastered on the tree outside.”

“I won’t,” Lucy nodded, giving her word.

“Class dismissed,” Gray’s deep tone interrupted the noisy chatter, and Juvia stood up, handing her artwork over to the president to be passed. She looked at Lucy, who grinned at her and invited her for lunch.

The blue haired girl nodded, following the yellow-haired girl outside.

Unaware of the pair of dark eyes following her out, a frown on the owner’s face.

“Yes?” Erza Scarlet pushed her glasses up her nose as she spoke, looking at the blunette in front of her. “Juvia Lockser, correct?”

“Yes ma’am,” Juvia said, confirming her identity. “I just wanted to get something from Gajeel-kun—I mean, Redfox-sensei’s table,” the blue haired girl reddened at her mistake. “Please.”

“Juvia,” Erza interrupted, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder, concern prominent in her tone. The blue haired girl looked at her teacher, blinking in confusion. Erza shook her head. “Never mind,” she said, smiling. “Come in,” she continued, moving so the girl could enter the faculty room. “His table is at the end of the room. You know where he sits, right?”

“Yes, thank you,,” Juvia said politely. A part of her mind couldn’t help but wonder what Erza had to say, but she shook it off, hoping that it really was nothing.

She made her way inside, heading towards the familiar table filled with nothing but scrap iron and a few papers. Second drawer to the right, Gajeel had told her. That’s where he left his whistle.

When the girl had retrieved the item exactly where the man had instructed, she turned to leave—but stopped abruptly when Gray Fullbuster’s sleeping face caught her eye.

He was leaning on a large chair, both arms over the armrests and legs spread out, taking up all the space they could. His buttons were undone, his tie tossed over his desk haphazardly. the girl couldn’t help but giggle slightly at the sight, but immediately clamped a hand over her mouth when the man stirred in his sleep.

She continued to watch him, nearing his face as she tried to view more of his peaceful face. His messy hair fell just a little over his eyes, and she brushed the locks up gently, marveling at how soft they were. In her trance, she began to slowly run a hand over his hair.

What she didn’t expect was for the man to nuzzle his head into her hand, as if begging her to touch it more. She gave into his desire, playing with his dark locks and twirling it around her fingers, rolling and unrolling strands using her thumb and forefinger.

He sighed in his sleep, and a blush touched her pale cheeks. Juvia immediately let go of his hair, placing both hands over her mouth in surprise and backing away at what she had just done.

She had just played with his hair! And he let her do it!

Well, there was the fact that he didn’t know she was the one who did it—the thought saddened her a bit, so she tried not to dwell on it too much. A breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding escaped her mouth, and she watched as Gray turned his head in the other direction, muttering words in his sleep.



Juvia’s eyes immediately snapped out of their reverie, and she looked at the owner of the voice with horror. Standing in front of her was Erza Scarlet, her glasses placed on top of her coat, a smirk growing on her face.

“It’s not what it looks like?” Juvia offered weakly, attempting a smile. The redhead shook her head, her smirk turning into a gentle smile. Her eyes softened, but Juvia couldn’t help but hear the blood pounding in her ears as her heart thundered wildly in her chest. She just had to be caught—by Erza, no less. “I’m sorry,” the blue haired girl said sincerely, looking down at the ground, pocketing Gajeel’s whistle.

“Don’t apologize, dear,” Erza said gently, patting Juvia’s head and keeping her hand there as she spoke. “I understand. You like him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Juvia answered honestly, her voice not above a whisper. She looked up at the redhead, only to see the latter smiling brightly at her, an expression she rarely saw from the terror teacher.

“Then I understand,” Erza told her, nodding. “I won’t tell him if you promise me that you will be the one to tell him someday.” When Juvia didn’t reply, she continued, “I can see it in your eyes, Juvia.” The student blinked in confusion. “You love him very much.”

“Juvia promises,” she looked at the ground, then returned her gaze to Erza, determination starting to bubble up inside of her. “Juvia will tell him… But she supposes he already knows.” The girl giggled. “Juvia was being so obvious.”

Erza removed her hand from atop the girl’s head, flashing her a smile. “Then he must understand, if he still tolerates your presence. Now, go on ahead. Gajeel’s looking for you.”

Juvia nodded, turning to leave. “Thank you, Scarlet-sensei.”

“No problem,” the teacher replied. She watched as Juvia walked towards the door, glancing back at her before exiting. Her mind flew to thoughts of a blue-haired man, far away from where she was—a memory of a love she herself experienced.

“Why are you taking the midnight train?” Gray asked, turning his head to look at his companion. “You take classes in the morning, yet you’re leaving so late at night…”

“Juvia’s going to be a marine biologist,” she replied, tilting her head to the side as she tried to catch a glimpse of the train’s headlights. “So she takes classes in the evening as well.”

“Why are you taking my class?” He blurted in surprise, his eyes widening at her response. “It’s arts! You’re not going to use arts in marine biology. You don’t look like you need extra credits or classes to pass either.”

“Juvia loves drawing,” she told him simply, staring off in the distance. “And she’s learning how to draw marine organisms, so it’s not really a complete loss and waste.”

“How much sleep do you even get every day?” Gray questioned. “If you take classes in the morning, and you take classes at night, and you spend every lunch time with me—how the fuck do you sleep, woman?”

“Juvia sleeps for six hours, it’s completely normal, Gray-sama,” she answered, looking at him with slight annoyance. “Why are you even asking Juvia questions?”

“Erza,” he said, sighing. “She mentioned something about you taking way too many classes for your major. Hell, is what you’re doing even allowed?”

“You know, Gray-sama, you tend to swear a lot when there aren’t any students around,” Juvia commented, steering the topic away from their original conversation. “It’s kinda funny.”

“You’re a student, and I swear around you,” he retaliated, then realized what he had just implied. “Wait, okay, forget I said that.” He waved his hand over his face, shaking his head.

He didn’t even consider her a student anymore! Looking at the blue haired damsel beside him, he had just realized that he had been treating her as an equal, as a colleague. She was not supposed to be treated as such—hell, if the principal knew about it, he was pretty sure he was going to be in pretty big trouble. Favoritism was a problem, and here he was, talking and conversing and cursing around Juvia as if she was Cana or Erza or Mira.

Except he wasn’t treating her as a favorite student. Her was treating her as if she was a friend, and the way he thought of her was never in the way of how he graded her. She was an amazing artist already, she didn’t need to woo him just to get good grades—and now that she had just revealed her true major, she didn’t even need his grades!

“Gray-sama, the train’s here!” Juvia said, and the dark haired man immediately snapped out of his thoughts, watching as the bustling vehicle passed by the both of them, leaving a strong gust of air in its midst.

“Juvia loves you, you know.”

The fact was tossed out so suddenly, without as much as a hint or a warning. He paused in his paperwork, glancing at the blue haired girl beside him, who was working as if she had said nothing of importance.

“What?” Gray asked in surprise.

“Juvia knows you heard her,” she said, stapling some documents together. “She doesn’t need to repeat it. She would just like you to know.”


She sighed in frustration. “Juvia loves you.” Her cheeks were red, a large contrast to her blue hair, and she was utterly focused on the task at hand.

He could feel his heart beating just a little faster in his chest, but he ignored it, and he resumed his duties. “You know that’s not allowed, right?” He told her. “You’re a student, and I’m a teacher. You shouldn’t like me in that way.”

“Juvia knows,” she said, sighing for the second time. “She just wanted to let you know.”


When Gajeel told him that Juvia had been involved in some sort of accident, he freaked. It was lunch time when the aforementioned incident had been relayed to him, and he immediately left all of his paperwork in favour of visiting his student in the infirmary. His tie was still half undone when he left the classroom, and he found himself messily buttoning his suit as he headed to his destination, muttering apologies to the students he had accidentally bumped into or passed.

“Juvia!” he said as he entered, panting slightly as he pushed the door open.

The sight of the blue haired woman lying on the bed with her eyes closed made his stomach churn uncomfortably, but he pushed the feeling down as he walked over to the girl.

“It’s my fault!”

Gray raised an eyebrow as a pink-haired girl stood up from beside Juvia, her hair tied in a pretty bun and her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “Fullbuster-sensei, it’s all my fault,” she confessed, biting her lip. “I was about to get hit by a baseball bat, and she pushed me out of the way!”

“What’s your name?” He asked her then, trying to sound more professional than he looked.

“Meredy,” she told him, sniffling. “I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gray said, in an attempt to comfort the crying girl. He grabbed a nearby chair, placing it beside the slumbering (he really hoped she was just sleeping) girl and sitting on it, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, getting a better look of Juvia’s face. “So she got hit by a bat?”

“Yes,” Meredy answered, sitting down on Juvia’s bed. “Behind the head. Polyusica-san said it was nothing serious, and she’ll only be suffering minor injuries, like a bump. She stepped out for awhile, but she said it was only the shock that knocked her unconscious, and apparently her body isn’t in very good shape.”

“What do you mean?”

“She hasn’t been sleeping much lately, and has been for a while now. I saw her in the library the other day, studying like a maniac. Apparently her classes are taking a toll on her health as well.”

“You stupid, stupid girl,” Gray told the sleeping figure, shaking his head at the pink-haired girl’s words. “You thought you could do all those things, didn’t you?”

He realized that Juvia hadn’t been around much to irk him every lunch time. He found the lack of her presence somewhat—boring, dare he admit it. He figured it was because of her confession and his (somewhat) rejection. Thinking back, it was a selfish thought. She was probably busy with other things, like essays and thesis that needed to be passed.His pride refused to allow him to seek out his regular companion, and he chose to stay in his dull and boring classroom, grading papers alone in the dark.

“Uhh—sensei, I just wanted to ask you,” Meredy interrupted, and he looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing here?”

Gray’s cheeks heated at the question, and he looked away, staring at the white ceiling. Damn, he must’ve looked like an idiot! A teacher racing to the clinic just because a student, who he had no relationship with (familial relationship—he did kind of begrudgingly accept her as his friend), got hit by a baseball bat? Trying to avoid glaring at the girl in front of him, he muttered, “it’s none of your business.”

The girl between them stirred, and Meredy immediately shot up, a smile spreading on her lips. “Juvia! Are you okay now?” She whispered, minding her voice. “Does anywhere hurt?”

“Meredy?” Juvia asked, blinking and covering her eyes with her fingers at the sudden light. “What are you doing here? Where am I?”

“You’re in the infirmary,” Meredy explained gently, taking one of Juvia’s hands and placing it between two of her own. “You saved me from a baseball bat, remember? I’m so glad you’re awake! Does your head still hurt?”

“Yes,” Juvia admitted, feeling the throbbing pain at the center of the back of her head. “I’ll live, though,” she continued, grinning.

“That’s great!” Meredy said, and a mischievous glint passed her eye. She leaned in closer, whispering, “I’ll give you two some alone time.”

Juvia could do nothing but stare at her questioningly, before nodding blankly and whispering “okay?” Back.

It was only when Meredy stood up to leave that Juvia noticed the dark-haired man sitting beside her, a slightly worried expression present on his face. “Gray-sama!” She said in surprise, before noticing that Meredy hadn’t exited yet. “I mean, Fullbuster-sensei! What are you doing here?”

She tried to push herself up to sit, but her arms ached a little and her body seemed to crave the comfort of the bed. Forgetting the pain, she placed her hands on the sheets, pushing her body upward and struggling—only to be stopped by a pair of hands that pushed her back down gently.

“Rest,” Gray grunted, looking at Juvia sternly. “You selfless, selfless girl. So selfless yet so utterly stupid.”

Juvia blushed, trying to avoid his gaze. “Well, Meredy was about to get hit and Juvia thought that she would not like to see her get hurt.”

“I’m fucking angry with you right now, you know that?” He told her. “Don’t do stupid things like that again! You know it could have been worse. If it had hit a sensitive part of your brain, and you would have died—“

“But Juvia didn’t die,” Juvia interrupted, blinking. “She’s okay—a little bit tired, but—“

“And you know what? Maybe you should just drop my class.”

“What?” Juvia stared at him in surprise. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“Juvia, your body can’t take much more stress. You’ve got essays and other shit to do. You’re tiring yourself out!”

“But Juvia wants to take your class!” She said in protest, sitting straight up and wincing at the pain at the back of her head. He was about to scold her, but she interrupted him. “Going to your class or not is my decision, not yours. You’re not the only reason Juvia goes.”

“I’ll give you the grade you deserve,” he muttered sharply, glaring daggers at her. “You’re a proficient student. If you don’t just go because of me, fine. But you’re dropping my class whether you like it or not.”

“Please don’t tell me what to do!” She begged, grabbing the edge of his sleeve. “I’m not tired because of your class! There are other reasons as to why Juvia is exhausted, and being your student is not one of it!”

“Listen to me, you idiot, and calm down,” he said, removing her grip on him and placing her hand back down on the bed. “This is for you. Rest. Do your shit. When you’re done, you can come back to my class.”

“Juvia told you, it’s not your class or you that’s stressing me out!” She practically shouted at him, and he clamped his mouth shut, a little taken aback at his normally calm companion’s outburst. She was so close to tears, and his heart tugged a little at the sight. “Things are—happening. Not good things. Juvia can handle it.” She looked at him with those huge, expressive eyes of hers, and he averted his gaze, trying not think about the guilt eating at him from inside. “Just please, Gray-sama—Fullbuster-sensei,” her tears were flowing freely on her cheeks, “Juvia won’t bother you at lunch anymore. She promises she’ll call you Fullbuster-sensei both in private and public,” she hiccuped, and he frowned as her sullen expression imbedded itself into his mind, “just please. Please. Don’t let me leave the one place I can be at peace.”

She was openly crying now, and he stared at her awkwardly, his hands hanging at the side of his body. He didn’t know what to do, or what to say—and the feeling that burned in his throat seemed to singe him from the inside. “I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t know.”

“Juvia forgives you,” she told him, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. “She will always forgive you.”

His heart jumped in his chest, and it scared him just a little bit to think that maybe, he was falling for her too.

It’s been weeks since she had last talked to him.

They would pass each other in the hallway, each to their own business, but there was no greeting exchanged between the both of them. She would look at him expectantly, trying to get him to talk to her—but he would avert his gaze and move away, as if she had the plague.

To say that his actions didn’t hurt her was an understatement.

Lucy had been asking why she looked so tired, and she had—uncharacteristically, indeed—snapped at Gajeel a few days back. He looked surprised and a lot taken aback, before he asked bluntly, “did something happen between you and the stripper?”

She told her best friend everything, unable to take the information in any longer. She was devastated, and from his tale—Gray wasn’t exactly doing well either.

He was a lot stricter in class, and could barely tolerate noise and unnecessary chatter. The class soon realized that an angry Fullbuster-sensei was not to be messed with, and every Arts class was spent in silence, a deadly cold aura in the room as he watched them sketch and draw. The students would leave soon after, wondering what the hell happened to the teacher who was perfectly okay with shouting and chair kicking and other rambunctious behavior.

Juvia thought nothing of it, thinking that he had encountered something that could have pissed him off the past few days. It was selfish to think that he was mad just because the two of them weren’t in friendly terms.

She did obey her word. She never dropped by his classroom at lunch time, and she never felt the need to call him Gray-sama, or Fullbuster sensei—because they never did talk—the need never rose. She obeyed his wishes, did her thesis, her countless amount of essays, every report that needed to be done—but she did keep on attending his class.

She wouldn’t look up at him, choosing to listen only to his voice when he spoke—for fear of breaking down in front of him. It would be embarrassing, not only for her, but for him as well, and she couldn’t risk the shame she would impose had she cried in the middle of the class.

She should have looked.

The class never noticed it, but Lucy Heartfilia sure did.

The dark haired teacher would glance at the girl every so often as he spoke, eyeing her head of hair before looking forward once more. Lucy would frown whenever he did so (because her friend didn’t even know that the person she adored looked her way, and it kind of pissed her off), and by the amount of times she scrunched her face up, well, the blonde could say that it was a lot of times.

He looked so fucking irritated every single day, and Juvia looked like she had just suffered all the misfortunes of the heavens and the earth. Lucy was tempted to ask her what happened sometimes, but she considered it rude and a little too forward.

Gray Fullbuster was in shambles.

He had snapped at Erza earlier in the day, and if there was something one should never do—it was to snap at Erza Scarlet. God knows what kind of punishment awaited those who even dared.

But he forgot the said consequences and shouted back at the redhead, glaring at her before stalking away, leaving the woman standing there in slight shock, amusement, and irritation. When the woman confronted him about it later, he sighed.“Look, Erza, I’m sorry,” he said honestly, slamming his hands into his desk. “My head just hurts and I feel pissed out of my mind. Sorry.”

“I know,” Erza replied, staring down at him. “I noticed. Now, what’s got you hotheaded? You’re losing your cool, Gray.”

“I know, I know,” the man repeated, running a hand through his dark locks. “Actually, never mind, I don’t know. Wait, what?”

“What happened?” Erza’s features softened, and she took a seat on Gajeel’s chair, right beside Gray. “Tell me. Not as a fellow teacher,” she placed a hand on Gray’s shoulder. “As an older sister.”

Gray frowned at her expression, and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down. “I don’t know,” he told her honestly, staring at the ceiling before sighing for the second time. “It’s just—there’s—“

“Are you having girl problems?” Erza speculated her eyes nearly bulging out of her sockets. “Who’s the lucky woman?”

“I’m not!” Gray snapped at her for the second time that day, and Erza raised an eyebrow in warning. “Well, no, but—“

“Then what the hell is wrong with you?”


“Juvia? Juvia Lockser? She’s the reason why you’re acting like such a terror to every one you see?”

“Well, kind of, but—“

Erza glared at him sharply, and he immediately shut his mouth, fearing the redhead’s temper. “You do know of how she feels for you, right?”

He sucked in a breath, before exhaling. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you be a little more resolute?” She asked him, crossing her legs and leaning her elbow on his table, her features softening. “The girl loves you, for goodness’ sake.”

“She’s a student,” he admitted then, relenting. “It’s… Wrong.”

“Love is never wrong.” Erz smiled softly. “I’ll tell you something that’s supposed to be a secret,” Erza said, and by the mischievous look that sparkled in her eyes, Gray could tell that it involved him. “A few weeks back, Juvia entered the faculty room because she had to take something of Gajeel’s.”

Gray narrowed his eyes. “She could have just asked me—“

“Shut up and let me finish,” Erza said, cutting him off. “Now, she took whatever she needed—but she stopped.” Gray stared at her curiously, his eyes set in confusion. “She saw you sleeping.” Gray opened his mouth to speak, his cheeks reddening, but she interrupted him again. “I think she found you cute. She kind of played with your hair, and you were letting her do it. And you were nuzzling your head into her palm,” Erza snickered. “Like a little kitten.”

“You mean that wasn’t a dream?”

Juvia stood in front of the classroom, a hand placed over her chest. She was done with everything she needed to do, and she wasn’t as busy as she had been the past few weeks. It was time for her to come back.

She knocked on the door. Upon hearing his grunt, she pushed the door open. He raised his head to look at her, and his jaw nearly fell open as he took in the person standing on the other side.

“Juvia,” he whispered, pushing his chair back. “What can I do for you?”

She swallowed, inhaling before she spoke. “Juvia,” she raised a lunchbox to her chest, displaying its contents. “Made this for you,” she continued.

There was silence in the air, and Gray leaned his back on his chair, smirking. “Bring it here, let’s eat.”

The smile on her face was priceless.

“Juvia’s ex boyfriend came back,” the girl said out of nowhere, and Gray paused his sketching to gawk at her. She ignored him, continuing. “That was the reason why Juvia was exhausted. It was never really school. She can handle the stress.”

“You had an ex-boyfriend?” Gray asked, trying to ignore the twinge of jealousy burning at the back of his mind. “Who?”

“His name was Bora.” She stuck her tongue out somewhat immaturely. “He was disgusting. He hated how Juvia was so gloomy.”

“I don’t find you gloomy,” he said.

“Thank you, but Juvia admits that she was gloomy as well.” The girl laughed, and he could feel his heart swell at the sound. “Juvia used to live in the orphanage, and all the kids hated her there. It was a long time ago, before she met Gray-sama. He took away Juvia’s rain. That’s why she loves him. You were my miracle.”

He kept his silence, before resuming his task. He let her confession slip past him again. “My parents died when I was a child,” he felt the need to tell her. After all, she had revealed a little bit of her past. “Then i was adopted by a woman named Ur.” The tip of the pencil he was holding snapped in two, and he closed his eyes. “She died too.”

“I’m sorry,” Juvia said, and he glanced at her, seeing the genuine concern in her eyes. “Don’t worry, they’re in better places,” she added, smiling.

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding. “I guess I am, too.”

It was the day of her graduation, and the blunette stood with the rest of her classmates, beaming as she held her diploma up for the world to see. A few more years, and she was to be the greatest marine biologist ever!

Her joy couldn’t be contained, and she even let loose a little as she squealed with Lucy and Levy, the latter jingling with all the medals that hung around her neck.

“We did it!” Lucy said, giggling. “We’re outta here!”

Juvia grinned, and Levy laughed along with Lucy. “Hey, Juvia,” her fellow blunette said, before nudging her head in the direction behind her. “Someone’s here to see you.”

“What?” Juvia said, raising an eyebrow. She turned around—

And came face to face with a very awkward looking Gray Fullbuster, dressed in a tuxedo, blushing and avoiding her eyes.

Her two companions soon left her, and she stood there with her teacher, her toga long since gone, leaving her in the very pretty dress Lucy had helped her pick out not too long ago.

“Gray-sama!” She exclaimed, a smile forming on her face as she lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She was probably allowed to do that now, considering she wasn’t his student anymore. “You came!” She whispered into his ear.

“Yeah,” was his simple reply. She could feel the faint touch of his hand on her back, and she clutched him tighter, refusing to let go. She would probably never get another chance like this in a lifetime! “I’m a teacher, in case you’ve forgotten. I’m required to attend.”

“Right,” Juvia said, hesitantly removing her arms around him slowly. “You look very handsome.”

“You look,” he bit his lip, forcing himself to say the next word without shame. “Beautiful.”

And he was right. She looked—refreshed.

“Come on,” he took her wrist in his, tugging her forward. “I have to tell you something.”

The halls were quiet, but Juvia could hear nothing but her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her feet were trembling, and she was a little thankful that Gray never did let go of her wrist. She didn’t dare ask where they were going, or what he wanted to say.

Perhaps he was officially going to reject her. Her face fell at the thought. Yes, that was probably it. He thought that now that she wasn’t a student, he could reject her without hesitation.

It was to her great surprise when Gray shoved her into the classroom and closed the door after him, locking it for measure. “Gray-sama?” She whispered, eyeing the empty classroom. There were no more chairs, and the desk that had once been front-center was gone. “What did you—“

“I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time,” he said, walking towards her, and she resisted the urge to back away. “Juvia.”


He said no words, but he did grasp her hands in one of his and pinned her against the door, slamming her back against it and placing his lips over hers. She gasped in surprise, before closing her eyes and returning the gesture wholeheartedly, kissing him back with just as much passion.

His tongue slipped in when she opened her mouth, and she couldn’t help but let out a moan as the sweet velvet explored her caverns, battling her own tongue for domination.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, and his hands fell to her waist, and she had wrapped her arms around his neck.

They broke apart, both panting heavily. “A long time?” Juvia was the one who broke the silence, a smile breaking out on her face.

He nodded, blushing. “A long time,” he repeated, before taking the blue-haired woman into his arms and burying his face into her neck. She smelled like sunshine and spring, and he breathed into her scent, relishing in her presence. “God, I should have done this earlier.”

“I love you, Gray-sama,” she whispered happily, closing her eyes.

“I—oh, fuck it, I love you too.”

Playing With Fire (Platonic Daveed X Reader)

WC: 2835

AU: Skulduggery Pleasant 

Warnings: Violence, cocky Daveed, mentions of character death

Summary: Y/N’s uncle Gordon has passed, and at his will-reading she meets Daveed Diggs, a secretive friend of her uncle.

A/N: Day 3 of the @hamwriters write-a-thon. This is by far the longest Imagine I’ve written and is one of my favourites. I would 10/10 recommend the Skuldugery Pleasant book series. It is incredible.

I woke up, and I felt like there was a black cloud hanging above my head. Today was the reading of my uncle Gordon’s will, and I desperately wished for any situation other than the one I was currently. Miserably failing school, parent teacher conferences, lunch with Fergus and Beryl. At least in those situations Gordon would still be alive, and I could go to him and talk these things through (or laugh about Fergus and Beryl). “Y/N! Sweetie, it’s time to go.” My mum called from downstairs, and I took in a deep breath, the reality of the whole situation sinking in. I pulled on my black coat and trudged down the stairs into the kitchen. My parents turned their eyes to me, and my mum shot me a sympathetic smile. “Desmond, can you go start the car?” My mum asked dad and he furrowed his eyebrows. “But you know that I’m hopeless with the car. Last time I tried to do anything with it we had to get a new car.” Dad said and I chuckled, the memory replacing the sadness momentarily. “Just go Desmond. I have to speak to Y/N for a second.” Mum said and dad nodded, walking outside. Mum sat down at the kitchen table and smiled at me kindly, gesturing for me to sit down as well. I sat, and the silence in the kitchen was deafening. Neither of us were in the mood to talk. “Y/N, sweetie, I know you and Gordon were close.” Mum said, putting her hand on mine. I nodded slowly, my eyes looking anywhere but her face. “But these things happen. Your father lost his brother, the twins lost an uncle. He’d want us to be there, to honour him.” Mum said and I sighed, looking at her. Her eyes were slightly red and I could tell she had been crying. “Ok. I’ll go mum. For Gordon.” I said and mum’s eyes brightened, a smile stretching on her face. “Let’s go and hope that your father hasn’t destroyed the car.” Mum said and I laughed. At that exact moment my dad called from outside. “Melissa! We may have a problem!”

Keep reading

1. She was afraid of heights.
Maybe it was because everything seemed soulless and more frightening from high above.
Or maybe she had her head so far up in the clouds that she was afraid that one day she would stumble and fall into reality.
2.She was afraid of love.
Maybe it was because the stories she had heard seemed too good to be true.
Or maybe she was too caught up in her own world that she was afraid someone would desolate it and turn it into some boring broken hearted life
3.Whatever the reasons were, she was afraid of the real face of this world and thats for sure.
—  K.G. // excerpts from story of a girl #6
I’m the kind of person who finds an incredible peace in thunderstorms. Lightning screams through the darkness, destroying trees and telephone poles. Thunder shakes entire cities, waging war in the clouds above our heads. Rain and hail pelt windowpanes and dent the hoods of cars. All of this fury surrounds me and I sigh, and my shoulders relax, and my heartbeat slows as though I’ve returned to my own bed after being away for a while. I wonder if I’m made of chaos, and that’s why a storm feels like home.
—  Z.M.
Stiles imagine

Imagine: You’re giving stiles head in the locker rooms shower, and he’s above cloud nine. “My god (y/n), where have you learned….oh shiit!” He says as you’re sucking a little harder. “This is gonna end with you in my bed tonight, you dirty girl” he says while you look up at him and goes deeper on him.

Originally posted by voidhelena

Unfinished Business Part 25


Genre: action, fluff, angst, strong language, +18 content, gang material,

Read to find out who the reader will end up with. There will be several chapters of this so I hope you’re ready to die and anticipate many things. <3 love youuuu (don’t hate me)

Word count:2132


As we gazed upon the stars above our heads, And the clouds make me feel like all the world is sound inside my head. I don’t know if we will ever see each other again. Or when we’ll meet on end, but please, just let me hold your hand…

Keep reading