#you never realize how short your sentences are until you've only got five of them lmao. semicolons are putting in WORK here

[boltlightning]

For the drabble meme: Elizabeth & Norrington, 5. "Seeking Solace"? Please and thank you!

ok. hello. i wrote one and realized it was over the sentence limit so i just wrote another one instead of cutting a sentence. it's my blog i make the rules here's both

5. seeking solace

The Black Pearl has sailed only a few days out from Tortuga, and Captain Jack Sparrow has the new crew members feasting like this meal shall be their last: while Elizabeth can stomach the overdone goat, stale bread, and vinegary wine, she cannot and will not stomach the raucous and unfocused conversation accompanied by Mr. Gibbs’ shrill attempts on the fiddle. She pours two tins of hot coffee and slips out onto the deck. The skeleton crew casts dark looks her way as the sounds of revelry within the cabin are swallowed up behind the doors once more; Elizabeth readily ignores them and approaches the one tall figure leaning against the gunwale, gazing out at the bright and endless sea. Coffee in hand, skirting a party, gazing at the scenery with James Norrington — it brings Elizabeth back to most every dinner party they both attended (and escaped) back in Port Royal, though the slouched man before her only barely resembles the dashing officer so beloved in her household. She offers him the cup, and James accepts with a quiet word and fleeting eye contact and nothing further; he only turns back to the waves.  When Elizabeth turns to go, slighted and silent herself, James’ hand brushes her elbow and he says softly, “I'm — Elizabeth, stay with me, please.”

---

At first, Norrington thinks his imagination has become too active and too cruel after weeks of restless service aboard the Dutchman — surely, that cannot be Elizabeth Swann being dragged by two redcoats from the captain’s quarters of the Empress. Norrington forces himself to think rationally and move slowly down the deck, as though the illusion will break if he believes it too readily, as though the deck will shatter beneath him if he dares to hope. When Elizabeth spots him, she breaks free of her captors and runs for him, calling his name; he pulls her fully into his arms the instant she is near. This is no dream: she is real, she is so desperately real, and she is here and alive and there is hope for her and himself and Governor Swann to escape yet. “Your father will be overjoyed to know you’re safe,” Norrington breathes, his smile half-formed and tentative — just as Elizabeth’s shoulders tense beneath his touch, and the light in her eyes becomes hard and fierce.

send me a prompt, get a drabble ✨

#you never realize how short your sentences are until you've only got five of them lmao. semicolons are putting in WORK here #i would love to write something more sweet and less bitter for these two one day. alas #thank you dear friend!!!!!!!! #i was pretty loose with the word 'solace' here so hopefully this works <3 #ask prompts #tortoisesshells #*fic #pirates of the caribbean #james norrington #elizabeth swann

[sylverstorms]

Mother Miranda x Lawyer!Oc ----Tilted Scales

Hello guys :) This is another commission I wrote for the amazing, wonderful @saltwatereulogies

Your support has been insane, I can't thank you enough. Hope you enjoy the story ❣

Three days.

That is how long you've been in the village, after years of studying abroad, before everything turns to shit.

As you slowly blink focus back into your eyes, you try to clear the haze from your mind. It feels as though you've collided with a truck. Your body hurts, your wrists protest in their iron cuffs, stuck to the wall as they are, having supported your weight while you were unconscious.

Desperately, you try to recollect the events that led you here...

A grey sky. A bleak day. One moment you were making coffee for your mother, excited to be able to sit down with her in the mornings again... and the next you heard the echo of screams.

Overcome by adrenaline, you bolted out of your house, only to witness a scene straight from a nightmare; humanoid monsters ripping villagers apart, cries and blood and animalistic growls all blending together into one mad mix.

And before you could even warn your mother...

Damn it all, what the fuck happened!

You suddenly struggle against your bonds, hard enough to rattle your whole frame. Your wrists burn from the grind against metal, but you don't care–

“Stop that. It is pointless and you will only injure yourself.” A cold voice, strangely familiar, says from far to your right.

You peer deep into the shadows, searching for the only other person in the empty room... until you see her. A mask advances on you, gold and shaped like a crow's visage, then wings folded into a cloak come into view.

You would be a fool to not recognize her. The local saint. The village's prophet. The very 'saint' your mother prayed to, for your safe return, all these years. Mother Miranda.

The sound of her heels bounces off the walls until she comes to stand directly in front of you. Looking past the openings of her mask now, you realize....

This isn't possible.

She hasn't aged a day. Not a single day, since you left the village. The years should show around her deadly blue eyes, somewhere, and yet they don't.

“I see you remember me...” she says, while you're still trying to find your voice. “Miss Warren.”

“What is going on? Mother Miranda, what happened to the village?!” you demand.

Her expression shows nothing. “The village is in need of... renovation.” she speaks, even, regal. “Repopulation, even.”

You stare at her with wide eyes.

“Now, don't give me that look. You would not be here if you weren't of the ones I chose to keep.” she continues. “You see, from now on, every single person in my domain will make themselves useful in some way, or they will be replaced. And you... you have been abroad studying law for a while now, yes?”

“I... yes.” you reply, still not fully having wrapped your mind around your situation.

“Excellent. What I need from you is simple. You will make the village independent from the state’s taxes as a religious organization... and you will keep foreign investors out from that point onward.”

What... what part of that is simple?!

“Do that for me and in return I guarantee your mother and you will go back to your house safe and sound. You will have no shortage of Lei for as long as you live, Miss Warren.” Miranda promises.

But it is not the sweet part of the deal your mind stays glued to. “And if...” you gulp. “If I can't work around the law to do that...?”

Miranda blinks slowly at you, like you shouldn't even ask such a basic question. Like the answer is obvious.

“Well. Then I have no further use for either of you.”

It is in this moment that it dawns on you.

This woman is no angel and no saint.

She is a devil.

-

-

You spend countless sleepless nights pouring over every single paragraph, every little opening or ambiguity in the law you can use to free the village of taxes.

To keep your mother in the dark about this, you work in the office Mother Miranda has provided for you, in her very stronghold.

Although technically it's her home, you don't see her nearly as much as you initially thought. She is gone throughout the day and returns late at night, not even sparing you a glance before heading for her chambers, at the upper sections of the building.

The days she does come into your office to inquire on your progress are few and far-between, your conversations always short and cold.

This evening is different.

“How is your work coming along, Miss Warren?” the prophetess asks with her aggravatingly nice accent, seating herself like a queen on the chair in front of your desk.

Your eyes are tired, but you force them on hers, through the mask obscuring her face. “I think I've got it. I'll be sending the necessary papers tomorrow and the answer shouldn't take longer than a month.”

“Very good.” she nods, a miniscule curve to her lips.

Icy eyes then drop to the wine in the whiskey glass at the corner of the desk. You think she will make a comment about drinking at work, but instead she says;

“Pour me a glass, will you?”

You will your hands steady as you comply, then carefully slide her drink over.

Miranda takes her mask with claw-shrouded fingers... and soundnessly sets it on the wooden surface. Then she pushes the veil at her hair back, shaking long, platinum locks free.

You do a double take you hope she doesn't notice. Because what the actual fuck.

You didn't think her hair was that long, or that straight, or that it would fall over her shoulders like she's staring in a shampoo ad. You didn't think her lips were shaped like a cupid's bow or that her skin was this flawless and radiant.

The helplessly lesbian part of you could begrudgingly admit she was beautiful before... but now you arrive to the painful realization she's drop-dead gorgeous.

“So. I've heard you won cases others would describe as impossible.” she begins.

“Nothing's impossible. You just need to know where to look.” you reply. Law is your comfort zone and she is not that far above you here. “But how do you know that?”

“I have my sources.”

"Nobody truly leaves this village, huh.”

“Not without my consent, no. But I knew you'd come back.” At your slight frown, she elaborates, “You would never leave your mother behind.”

She's right. There was a whole world of opportunities waiting for you out there and yet... here you are.

“Good work, so far. You can take the next two days off. Your eyes could use the rest, Miss Warren.” Miranda speaks, finishing her wine.

“Sarah.” you say. 'Miss Warren' is for clients and she is your boss.

Miranda's lips give a slight quirk that may or may not be a trick of the light.

“I know.” she replies and exits the room, long hair billowing behind her back.

-

-

The taxes were only the first challenge. Now that the village is free of them, investors are flying in circles around it like vultures over meat.

In the meantime, Miranda comes to talk to you more frequently.

Lately, it seems she has more free time. You wish that was a good thing, but...

“So... are you like... going to stay here?” You ask after reading the same sentence five times to make sense of it, because her gaze on you is distracting as fuck.

“I'm not getting in the way of your work.” she says. You want to argue she is, but can't quite do that in a way that won't get you killed.

“I'm simply not used to working with company. Isn't this boring for you?”

“No, actually. I find it interesting, even though science is my field of expertise.” she answers. “And the way you take notes is… amusing.”

You try not to blush as you look down at your notebook, filled with different colored markers and post-it squares with tiny stick figures pointing to the more important paragraphs. You have been doing this for so long to sort out information you didn't even realize you were keeping it up in her presence.

“What is this supposed to be?” she asks with a small smile, the first of its kind you've seen.

To your horror, her clawed pointer aims at a particularly silly doodle, barely the size of a pencil's eraser.

“A... bird.” you grimace like you've been stabbed.

“Ah, of course.” Miranda holds back a chuckle but you can tell she's dying to make a comment.

Studying becomes hell for the rest of the time she's there with you, those sharp eyes picking apart every little move you make. At the same time, though, the hours you spend with her make you realize...

She's not a saint, though she may look like one. She's not completely a devil, either, even if she may act as one, at times.

She's human.

-

-

Miranda shares nothing about herself when you chat, but she seems to like it when you speak about your time abroad and all the things that left an impression on you there.

Your conversation over wine is cut short, however, when you receive a call from a number you learned means nothing but trouble, lately.

“Sorry, I have to take this.” you tell her.

The one calling you is none other than this month's rival lawyer, trying to dispute your claim over the land for his own boss. He's lost to you before, so it's also personal, but you are confident you have cornered them good with the latest papers you sent them...

And you are proven correct, when, a few seconds later, he is all faux polite on the other line, resorting to offering you money for you to withdraw your arguments.

Miranda comes to stand next to you, listening in to what he's saying.

The problem with that is, the second her arm brushes yours and you catch a whiff of her perfume –which always lingers in your office long after she's left— youare the one who stops listening to him.

Your attention flies to other things, like the inches she has on you, the exact color of her pale blonde hair, the little glint of victory in her stunning eyes.

Oh, no. God, no...

You know what this is, the feeling in the pit of your stomach. Alarm bells go off in the back of your head, as though your own mind is telling your body how foolish it's being.

There isn't a worse thing you can do to yourself than be attracted to Miranda.

-

-

Over time, familiarity with the prophetess brings higher levels of difficulty into your 'try to ignore your crush on her' game.

Miranda joins your side and leans over your shoulder, sometimes, to peer down at what you're doing. You don't move and don't breathe until she's within a safe distance again.

Then there are the wayward 'reward' touches, when you turn another investor away from the village. She may pat your back or leave her hand on your shoulder, or even scratch your nape with her claws as a job well done.

You hope your poker face hides the fact you feel her touch on you for far longer than you should, after she's gone.

Tonight, the situation is the toughest it's ever been for you.

There is a rainstorm going on outside; the waterdrops are tapping against the windows of your office as though they're trying to break it. Miranda has pulled her chair next to you so you can talk easier, without having to shout over the cacophony.

“And basically the judge's decision was that—”

You are interrupted by a blinding flash of lighting, during which your mind lets you know the stronghold is easily the tallest structure in it's vicinity—

When thunder cracks down the sky and strikes the building, you nearly scream. Your body tenses and you jump; but Miranda's hands come to your biceps and hold you steady, against herself and your desk.

Another flash comes before you really have time to think about your proximity. She covers your ears with her palms before the thunderclap can send you into overdrive again.

“You are with me and you're scared of a little thunder?” she teases when things quiet down and your heartbeat eases.

It's true; Miranda is the more terrifying force of nature. At the same time, however...

You feel oddly safe to be this close to her.

“Well... I'm not scared right now...” you quietly admit.

Her pointer comes underneath your chin and lifts it so you are looking straight into her hypnotic blue eyes. How is this color even real...

“And why is that?” Miranda asks, her wings coming around you both. They're curtains of black, cutting out some of the storm's sounds.

You want nothing more in this moment than to run your fingers through each individual feather.

You lick your lips. That's...not a question you can answer if you want the balance in your arrangement with her to remain.

Perhaps, though, the scales have tilted for you long ago. You just haven't been brave enough to admit it.

You have the courage to face it now when she leans down and covers your lips with hers, warm in a manner you never imagined she could be.

Her wings pull tighter around you and your mouths slide more firmly together. Lipbalm and creamy lipstick mix, tongues brush, tasting of wine. You are shaking so bad on the inside from how much you want this, more of this, the rumbling of the thunder be damned.

Miranda's palm cups your flaming cheek when she pulls back, perfectly composed and staring at you with a little smirk in place.

You dare to turn a little, lay a tiny kiss on the inside of her wrist, beyond her rings and accessories.

You aren't very fond of storms, but...

You willingly walk right into the eye of this one.

#mother miranda x oc #mother miranda #resident evil village #resident evil 8 #fanfiction #creative writing #commission #thank you so much :')

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

House of Lust (part 4)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader.

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: none.

"Oh, for God's sake!" You shouted to the air, tired of hearing the moans coming from your sister's bedroom. You wanted to go out of that Villa soon so bad...

You were reading a Shakespeare novel. It was very hard to find british books those days, but Romeo and Juliet was so valuable you paid a lot to a man who brought it by hiding it.

But you couldn't concentrate. Not now. Odelle's bedroom wasn't close to yours, but damn those noises felt like they were next to you.

Suddenly, you heard three knocks on the door. Raising your eyes to it, you wondered who might be interrupting your reading time. Rain was stronger out your window.

"Who is it?" You asked.

"Louis" the voice said, in a whisper.

"Come on in."

Louis was a short, handsome man with blonde hair and eyes black as the midnight sky. He was one of the guards of the Villa, and one of your best friends, if you could consider the servitude your friends.

"What is it?" You wondered, seeing he didn't move from the door.

"Claude found a man trying to enter the house, mademoiselle. We let him in the dungeon."

"Wasn't he one of my sister's guests?" You said, a bad feeling through your body. "Maybe he was just walking in the dark."

"You should come see if you recognize him, then." He responded.

Letting the book aside over your fur divan, you followed Louis to the basement, where the two dungeons were.

While you walked closer, you heard wailings coming from inside one of them. And you saw Claude, a 6"2' man that usually seemed like a bear, hitting the man who they trapped before.

When he heard you coming, he stopped and let the dungeon to face you. You realized then that you ran those last steps.

"What the hell are you doing, Claude?" You asked, furious.

"He was trying to get into the house, mademoiselle."

"Yeah, to steal something from us, uh? With his arms chained to the wall and so beaten he can't let himself be in his feet? Don't lie to me. If you want to hit people or be violent with them, or even kill them, join the army, Claude. But don't ever do it in front of me. I'm not like Odelle and Josephine. Am I clear?"

"Yes, mademoiselle. Sorry."

Claude and Louis stood there, waiting for you. You entered the dungeon, seeing how the man was trying to get up, but he fell to the ground. You got closer, kneeling by his side, turning him around to see him.

He was a beautiful young man, with dark hair and emerald eyes that looked at you deeply before fainting. You saw the blood coming from his nose, falling through the scar upon his lip, joining the one coming from his mouth, going to his neck and further down into his dirty white shirt.

His face structure seemed different to anything you've ever seeing in your twenty first years of life. But then you remembered where you saw a man like that, years ago.

"Oh, my God!" You said, your breathing heavier than before, turning your face to look at your servants. "Take him to my bedroom, quickly! Don't let my sisters see him!"

The two men carried the young man from the basement to your bedroom, as you told them. He was the same height than Louis, a little taller. They left him in the divan, throwing your book aside that went directly to the ground.

"Do you know him, mademoiselle?" Claude asked, tired.

"Yes. He's... He's one of my sister's guests." You said, lying a little. "Don't say anything to her yet. I'm taking care of him. Now go."

They left seeing each other with confusion. You weren't like your sisters. But why did you reacted like that was betond their comprehension.

You brought a wet piece of cloth to clear his wounds. As you cleaned the blood slowly, he seemed to try to get awake again. But he didn't.

Was he the Abbé de Coulmier you knew five years ago, during a theatre play you saw with your sisters in Charenton? You remembered him being very nervous while the inmates recited their lines, replying what the Marquis de Sade wrote for them.

But did you see the play and enjoyed the wicked things that happened in there as your sisters? Or actually you were seeing him only? He was a really handsome man. And you remembered you said to Josephine it was a shame that he had taken the vows.

How was his name? Francis? Franz? François! That's it! He was the same man. You knew he went to prison for killing the Marquis. Why was he in your house now? He wasn't invited as the other guests. Maybe Odelle planned something you didn't know.

You started to clean the blood he had in his neck, and then you opened his shirt to clean the red liquid from his chest. He had a pale, smooth skin covering his lightly toned muscles, a few dark hairs over his torso.

And when you tried to touch the centre of his chest carefully with the tip of your fingers, feeling attracted to do it as a fly going directly to the light, he woke up and took your hand, scared of you.

"What are you doing?" He murmured.

"I... I'm... It's okay, I'm not gonna hurt you, Abbé."

"Who... Who are you?" He said, confused not only from finding himself in another room with you, the angel he saw approaching to him before, but also because of you calling him Abbé.

"My name is Y/N d'Évreux. I apologise for what happened. My servants took you as a thief. But now you'll be okay and you're welcomed to my home."

François saw you saying those things. He had seen you before. He remembered you, your beautiful face amd your sweet voice taking to him as now.

"Thank you, I guess." He said, smiling to you after all. Maybe it was the first time he felt the need to do it, after five horrendous years. "I'm François, but I think you already knew me."

"Yes. But I didn't remember your name well. That's why I called you Abbé. How did you came here?" You asked. "Did my sister invite you as she uses to do every year?"

"What? No. My parents presented my case to the judge. You knew I... I was in prison?"

"Yeah, for killing the Marquis de Sade. I don't think you did it. You... You were..."

"A priest." He completed your sentence, making you smile. "Yes. I couldn't hurt a fly until doctor Roger-Collard. He blamed me for the Marquis' death. But the judge decided today morning that I was innocent. So, my lawyer gave me a letter from my parents saying that I could get help in this Villa."

"I can't really explain this, Abbé. Maybe your parents contacted with my sister." You said, thinking about that letter. "Can I see the paper?"

He sat in the divan, a painly moan escaping from his mouth, and searched for the letter he saved in his jacket. He wasn't so cold now, in front of the chimney.

You saw him better now, your eyes scanning him without shame but prepared to look to another spot of your bedroom if he noticed.

But then, suddenly before you took it to read it, the door opened and your sisters came in. Both were a few years older than you, Odelle almost the same age than François.

"Well, well, well. What do we have in here? I think our principal attraction arrived, finally." She said, looking at you kneeling next to him, while Josephine laughed.

That was the moment you and François actually got more confused, him much more than you.

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria99 @lyoongx @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @stardancerluv @sgtsavoytruffle @ohcarlesmycarles @beautifulyoungprospect @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @joaqz-phoenix @ajokerfangirl

#abbe de coulmier #quills #abbe thirst squad #joaquin phoenix #marquis de sade #abbe de coulmier x reader #joaquin phoenix x reader

[sugarydolli]

Orange Juice | [REPOST]

Title ~ Orange Juice

Word Count ~ 2k

Pairings ~ Leon x Chubby!reader

Warnings ~ Body shaming, Bullying

Okay but do y'all see my new icon like 🥰

Repost from my wattpad storie lulz lemme send link 🖇️ https://my.w.tt/KjSStSQYkbb

-

"Come on Y/N," junko smirked "hes never gonna like you if your fat, keep throwing it up." You pushed slightly on your stomach to trigger more vomit.

With Junko standing behind you, taunting you as your breakfast pushed passed your lips.

You could see Mukuro start gather tissue for you to wipe your mouth off with.

-

You sat in class one day as the teacher rambled about nothing you cared about. The sun ran over the curve of your cheeks and lit up your (E/C) eyes as you were deep in thought.

"What if I was smaller"

"Would I be prettier?"

"Would he notice me?"

Not even noticing that class was over until two particular known sisters made their way over to you.

Junko slapped her hand down on your desk taking you out of your thoughts. Her sinister smile was a clear warning of her intentions which were obvious to you.

You expected nothing but harsh words, more things to make you regret your weight. But she unexpectedly had other plans.

Junko came to you as if she wanted to help you. She said she could make you look pretty. In your desperate state of mind you accepted.

Ever since then her way of making "pretty" was meeting her outside of the bathroom every 2-3 hours, practically shoving you face into a toilet and forcing you to gag your meals.

-

"Hey Junko.." you said weakly, your stomach aching being the 5th week you skipped lunch. "Did you ever find out what type of girls Leon is into?"

She thought about it while she chewed her food. "Why of course I did, and you know what he told me?"

You were practically leaning over the table, dying to know what the baseball player told her. "He said and I quote, "tight waisted bimbos with huge tits" end quote."

It felt like a spear ran threw your heart as you sunk into deep thought. "I'm sure he'll like you for who you are rather than what your physical appearance is Y/N."

"You filthy liar! I told her exactly what he told me."

"But Junko I was right ther-"

"Shut up!"

The thoughts in your head shut you out from the twins bickering. Your mind festering on the idea of fitting into Leon's type.

The sadness you felt turned into determination. Thinking about how you can cut out a few more meals, and exercise even more times a day. Wearing extremely heavy hoodies in raging hot weather to shed.

You were determined by the end of this month you'd fit his standards.

"Junko,"

Standing up, you caught her attention before she shot another insult to Mukuro. "I think I'm ready now."

A large malicious smirk panned across her face, rising up from her seat. "Let's go."

-

You shoved two fingers down your throat, nearly missing your uvula. Not much at first shot out but as you progressed more and more came out as your throat burned.

Beginning to feel dizzy, you leaned against the bathroom stall. Not having the energy to continue the assault on your throat. Once you gained your composure you restarted, plunging fingering back into your throat. Murkuro held your hair back away from your face as Junko unbeknownst to you recorded your gagging.

You finished up rather quickly, wiping spit from the corner of your mouth. You rummaged through your backpack looking for your tooth brush.

You walked over to the sink ignoring a few girls who just walked in stares of confusion. The first thing you noticed was your cheeks, usually a soft looking round was now turning hallow.

Your body over all seemed to be getting slimmer over the past few weeks. So much so you'd start to get compliments and praised.

For once you've felt good about yourself, Confident.

...

Until, from an anonymous account you were exposed. Several videos of you forcing yourself to barf was posted on this account.

"This you?"

Mukuro texted you while you got dressed in your uniform. Sending the account.

As if the multiple videos weren't enough, pictures of your dazed expression began circulating. Tears threatened your eyes, you reported each video and picture one by one.

-/-

You went into school, head hung low as whispers and giggles could be heard around you.

You would look up to see several faces looking at you with disgust, some occasionally with pity.

Ultimately, you decided that you weren't gonna let this stop you from reaching your goal. Even if it was draining you.

Today being mile day in PE made you teensy bit woozy, but still you convinced yourself of the "benefits"

-

The long track taunted you, seeming like it stretched for miles. "You've never seen any interest in mile before, Y/N..are you sure." Your PE teacher placed a hand on your shoulder, giving you a understanding look.

You nodded gulping slowly before starting to sprint. At first it wasn't as bad (you told yourself) as you got about half way down the long course.

Your eyes were starting to get a bit heavy as you tried regulating your breath. The temperature only seemed to get hotter as you tried to block out the feelings.

"Was this a heat wave?" You asked your as you tried to push through. Darkness seemed to be clouding over your vision rather quickly.

And surely you passed out.

-

Condensation slid down your face making you wince. You blinked a few times before taking in the bright light on the ceiling.

You rose up quickly only to be pushed right back down. The school nurse, Mikan, giving a frighten shriek from your sudden movement.

"Please let me help you get up." Her worried tone, placing a hand on your back while you rose. "You passed out on the field." A quiver still in her voice.

Panic started to rise in your gut. "I..I did?" You didn't want to believe her words, seeing it more as an embarrassment than an health concern.

"A teacher carried you here with the help of a student." Mikan tried calming you down to prevent any other health problems.

Sadly her efforts wasted as you began to worry yourself on who the student was. Your nightmares only coming true when Leon suddenly walked through the door.

"Mikan is she alright? I heard talkin' and" Your eyes met sending a rush of pink to your cheeks. His pale blue orbs gazed into your F/C ones.

"Are you... alright?" Leon's gaze never leaving your eyes. Lips quivering to much for a verbal answer, you nodded.

Tears brimmed your eye line, you didn't want to met like this. This wasn't supposed to be this way. But his next words caught you off guard.

"Good. hate to see a pretty girl like yourself hurt." He followed up with a wink before sliding out of the office.

Awe casted on your face causing you jaw to open slightly. You were in shock, not even hearing Mikan rambling.

-

Once you were released from Mikan's office you headed to your locker. You managed to pick your jaw up off the floor but shock and awe still lingered.

You opened your locker open-mindedly. A small blush colored envelope fell out, you practically tore it open to see in somewhat messy handwriting:

A actual compliment..did I hit my head that hard? Am I in a coma?

Hey cutie ;), I'd call myself a hero for saving you today. How about you reward me with a little date later today?

- Leon

A squeal errupted from your mouth causing whoever around you a confused look. You were to caught up in your joy to even realize Junko and Mukuro making their way over.

A hand placed firmly onto your shoulder, turning you around to face them forcefully.

"Whaddya got there Y/N?"

Junko's tone too sweet for her own good, you held the letter up slowly in which she snatched it. "This has to be a fake." She said without looking.

Eyes widening, you look the letter back reading it over for any indications. The thought of this being some prank didn't even register to you.

"Well if you are going you know what you have to do" Her tone lowering to something darker. You have her a nod before once again walking to the dreadful bathroom.

You've grown tired of these plain walls as you stick a few fingers once again down your throat. Your senses activated causing you to hurl.

Junko chuckled, getting a sick sort of kick out your suffering. Mukuro narrowing her eyes at her sister, quickly sending a text to someone.

About five minutes later the sound of the bathroom door being slammed open caused you to rip your fingers out of your mouth.

Various shouts coming from behind the stall door as it was suddenly swung open. Leon stood in the frame with ishimaru not far behind.

The sudden appearance caught Junko off guard, almost dropping her phone. "Leon you can't just-" The short haired male turned his attention to the scene.

"Y/N...what are you doing?" Leon's face in confusion, you quickly wiped any remaining spittle off your chin before turning around completely.

Leon bent down, wiping your cheeks with his thumb. "I don't give a shit about your body, I like you just the way you are." He lifts you up, giving you a hug.

"Nothing, just a-" Junko was quick to cut you off. "A hard case of bulimia." Your hair fell down into your face, Junko continued to laugh.

She spoke in a bragging fashion as she told the two men of your dirty secret. Tears brimmed your lash line seeing Leon's eyebrows furrowed in disgust.

"And the funny part about it is...she it did all for you!" Leon's eyes widened, his mouth almost fell open as he quietly repeated her last few words.

"You told me that he likes small waisted girls and I-" a sob breaking your sentence, you fell down onto the bathroom floor sobbing uncontrollably. You felt hands gently pry your hands off your face.

Your usual small pink envelope fell right into your hands, causing a smile to stretch across your face.

You snuggle into his neck, now happy tears rolling down your cheeks.

- timeskip brought to you by the iconic cheez duo -

- about a month later

"You know, Princesses are usually found in castles. How'd I meet you here?"

Cheesy. You smirk to yourself before feeling large arms wrapped around you. Leon placed a kiss to your temple, filling spinning you around for a kiss to the lips.

"I guess the answer to your question would be, sometimes princesses get bored for waiting on their prince." Leon chuckled, sneaking in another kiss. "Well, it's not easy  finding the right princess."

His hand instinctively latched onto your as you two walked down the hall to your first period.

-

Leon doesn't like you cause of your skin, your weight, or your face. He likes you because of you.

-

Uhh I know the themes in this got like really fucking dark and usually I don't like to to talk about these topics cause all around this is supposed to be a happier book and shit like that but it was actually requested of me once before.

I thought it was time to get out of my comfort zone and address this. You all are beautiful no matter what you look like, your body doesn't define you!! Your beauty inside and out. And if anyone tells you otherwise me and cheez will beat the- I mean kindly slap them around with kindness.

Anyways I love you all and everyone around you should to! You don't have to fit into what someone wants you to for them to love you. If they really love you, they'd love you for you! Appearance doesn't matter in love!! ((Praying I'm saying the right things))

And it is okay if you do wanna change how look. Just use the reader as an example not to do, please don't hurt yourself or take the easy route. Please choose healthy and non harmful ways to improve on your already beautiful self.

I'm really not good at this so I hope this little message didn't offend, comfort is nawt my strong suit BUT I love you all tremendously and I'll always be here no matter what.

- Cheez it chan & Cheez <3

-

#leon kuwata x reader #danganronpa leon kuwata #dr1 #leon kuwata #leon #danganronpa kuwata #kuwata #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa 1 #danganronpa #tw ed mention #tw ed content #tw bulemia #tw eating disorder #tw bullying #tw vomit

[alabamagirlinagreatbigworld]

High Fidelity - My Top 5 Heartbreaks

Have you watched High Fidelity on Hulu? I just started but almost instantly my mind shifted from getting to know a character to thinking about my own. My top five heartbreaks. In chronological order.

1. My College Love

If you were fortunate to experience falling in love in college as you're also exploring true freedom, you might identify with this one. Football player. Stole my heart quickly. But, the heartbreak that comes with young love, immaturity, college environment is harsh. On again, off again. He cheats. He comes back. At some point, after 4+ years, my heart couldn't take anymore. Ironically enough, at this same time, his realized the err of his ways and proposed a lifelong commitment. Today, I'm still unsure if it was the infidelity or the absolute necessity to say no that caused the biggest heartbreak. This guy will always have a place in my heart. I'll always wonder what if.

2. The Real World, A Real Relationship

This one started off fun, but without commitment. As the relationship progressed, the more in awe of him I found myself. He was the type of guy who made going to the grocery store fun. He always made me feel like the prettiest girl in the room. He always made me feel like I was his future. Eating out, we always looked at elderly couples trying to determine which one would be us. In the end, 5+ years later, he decided he didn't want a future with me. His words were "I could marry with you and be happy. But, I can't say I cannot live without marrying you, and that's the kind of love I want." He ended up cheating and marrying the girl less than 6 months later. He might be the one ex that I would welcome back into my life without a second thought. He was that guy for me.

3. The Not Supposed to be a Relationship-Relationship

Coming hard off a breakup, still broken-hearted, my new roommate slyly managed to get a coworker and myself alone together late one night. We began seeing each other casually when a routine surgery went wrong, leaving me hospitalized for 2 months. Our relationship was naturally forced into serious mode when he decided to visit me in the hospital, initiating meeting the parents, and a lot of emotional attachment through my sickness and his care. Looking back, this relationship likely lasted 4.5 years longer than it ever should have. We were not meant to be together. But between my desperation for forever and his need to be repaid for his devotion through my hard times, we gave it a rocky go. In the end, I wasn't who he wanted me to be on paper. My family didn't have history he wanted them to have. I didn't dress in high enough fashion to look impressive on his arm. While I was devastated in the moment, and for longer than I care to admit, looking back, the heartbreak was the fear of starting over, of being alone, of not knowing who I was outside of the relationship.

4. The Best Friend Betrayal

I am a firm believer you do not know real heartbreak until you've been betrayed by a best friend. She was my college roommate. We dated roommates. We told each other everything. We talked constantly. We laughed even more. She was always there for me. Or so I thought. After my last heartbreak, I built a new life from scratch. I met new friends. I went out more- ok a lot more. I found my own place. And, when I was looking, I met a guy at a bar on SPD. I wasn't interested initially. I remember accidentally writing my ex's phone number on his hand and having to scribble it out and start over. I remember distinctly telling him I wasn't taller than him so it wasn't going to work. But, his persistence paid off. I went out with him and shortly after we were spending our weekends together. Until all the sudden we weren't. Never, in a million years, would I have guessed it was because he was sleeping with my best friend. She was there for me as I cried over his sudden distance. She encouraged ridiculous "stalking" to see where he was, if he'd found someone else. I cannot imagine how this excited her but the idea of beating me, feeling better, prettier, winning, getting the guy got her off. It was months later that I figured out the truth. It was via a text conversation with her. Nothing was ever said but it was like instantly, I knew. And she knew I knew (insert Friends gif, they don't know that we know that they know). We never spoke again. She divorced her current husband, married this guy, and is gaslighting everyone else now. What's crazy is, I still miss her like crazy. I still miss our friendship. But, I know, I could never face her again. Much less go back to the way things were.

5. The Greatest Love Story This Town Has Ever Seen

My high school crush. We weren't sweethearts. We never dated. It was forbidden by his mother who had no idea just how innocent I was but knew I was older. We passed notes in the hallway. I still have them. Sitting inside my nightstand drawer. He was cocky. And flirty. And smitten. Fast forward 22 years and he finds me on IG. He was married at the time so we only had casual conversations about what we were up to now, laughing about the past, talking about what we wanted out of life. A few months passed by before we spoke again. But this time, he reached out for support as his wife was leaving him. He eventually came to visit me. We texted and/or talked all day every day. The good morning texts. The sweet dreams texts. The promises of I want to be the last guy to ever kiss you. And that first kiss. I don't know if it was my hiatus from dating, feelings of high school me, or chemistry, but if i had a groundhog day, I'd want it to be that day. Nothing special about the day. We met up to go see my cousin who'd just had bypass surgery. He knew him well from their son's baseball teams. But when I got in his truck, I was mid-sentence and fireworks. He was still cocky. And flirty. And I liked it. I trusted him. I believed him. I had been honest about past heartbreaks, fears of opening up, that I had no desire to be temporary. I think he'd have signed in blood that I could trust him. That I would never be temporary. But here we are. Almost three years later. He's moved on. My heart still replays his words. The nostalgia of a high school crush and dreams of being the greatest love story crushed yet still somehow lingering.

Have you thought about your Top Five Heartbreaks? Do you have five? Or, were you lucky enough to marry your first love and live happily ever after?

I'm still searching for my forever. I'm still holding on to false hopes of something that was likely never there. But the one thing I can live with is in all of these relationship, I was loyal. Faithful. All in.

And, I may be the common denominator in these relationship, but I know that I did not fall short of loving wholeheartedly. And well, that's something.

#crush #greatestlovestory #bestfriend #love #high fidelity #heartbreak #heartbreaks #dating