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#or until somebody else takes over but I don't think anyone is anywhere NEAR as capable as I am lmaooo
piplupod · 8 months
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the choice of "do i pretend to be Juno and keep up their usual tasks or do I take this opportunity to be my own person for once but also let all their usual tasks and socializing slide to the wayside"
mainly: I cannot play accordion for the life of me and lately they've been posting a little snippet of their accordion practice daily on their instagram story and I don't know what to fucking do about that LMFAO hopefully they show up later today I guess but otherwise I ain't gonna attempt to fumble with that beast
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valyalyon · 4 months
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November 1, 2024
Raphael has arrived! This is the first scene I wrote for this story, it is very long. Changing post formats, this format will be the new norm :)
Please enjoy and see below for more Dreams, Ink and Embers.
DIE MASTER LIST OR #LYONDIE
That’s how it all started. Just a stupid party, just too many good drinks, the lights, the feeling of his hands, my dress coming off, then the crash onto the bed.
CW: explicit sexual content, “one night stand”, sex while both parties are intoxicated, unprotected sex, dubious consent.
It was all the breaths, all the whiskey enhanced kissing, the way he gripped my neck, the way our bodies collided.
I don’t even think I recognized him then, a part of me just knew him to be somebody else. Somebody that I met, somebody that I met a long time ago, in a dream some decade ago. In the dream he touched me the same way, made me feel all the same. And in the complicated coldness in between us, a fire was festering below the surface.
In all reality I’d only known him what? Six years. He never touched me before but he had a way with words in every stupid situation we’d find each other in. He always knew how to aggravate me, distort my way of thinking, make me lose all patience. And despite us never admitting it, we were sharing an awful secret that neither of us knew where it came from.
The secret? He was a man I could not have and I was a woman he could not have. In some destitute other world, we are each others, but here we stand with a divide in between us. Maybe he didn’t know why he wanted me so badly, I definitely knew why I wanted him though. Dreams play too grand a part in my life.
The night of the party was a different story. The party was for Halloween, a friend’s celebration of it. Only thing was that he was hosting it at his house. Normally I would’ve declined an invitation to be anywhere near him, but that night something came over me. I hadn’t told anyone I’d go, but made sure I had all the information correct to show up that day.
It was a costume party and no one was allowed in without a costume. Lucky enough for me, he over invited and way more people showed up, meaning that when I arrived I was able to just blend in with the crowd and disappear if need be. To be completely honest, not much was hidden, but I was wearing a skimpy princess mini dress with a tiara and a masquerade mask.
I wasn’t blending in awfully since everyone was dressed up and most of the girls were skimpy too.
Anyway, the next little bit is a blur because I smoked some pot and started going around drinking alcohol from the kitchen bar. i knew I shouldn't be mixing my alcohol and pot but I got crossfaded pretty often and had an idea of my limits.
Well, eventually I decided to sit at the kitchen island and just have a drink (on my second) and chill there for a bit and people watch. Julius was at this party and I was trying to avoid him too for the most part.
I don't think I recognized the man who until this point has gone nameless — his name is Raphael — even when he came up to me. He was wearing some black jeans and a red top that looked just a little too small for him, but I traced my eyes along his arms and muscles and then face and nothing clicked. it was like I had never seen him before in my life.
For years I spent them hating and arguing with this man, but now he was sitting beside me at the kitchen island and the whole party seemed to come to a slow. All of a sudden it felt like the alcohol came to overtake me.
He asks me who I am, says that the no face masks rule applies, and says I gotta take off my mask and show myself to him.
It feels almost like a joke. Even though I don’t recognize him, I still fight back with the usual anger, "Face masks shouldn't apply for half naked Princesses, sir. plus you're not the boss of the party. i know the guy hosting it and it ain't you.
He seemed to pause for a second, not sure what must have been going through his mind but he starts to smile. He leans towards me and asks, “want more whiskey?” He reaches for the bottle and starts to pour a little more into my cup, then some into a cup for himself.
“Thank you,” I told him, and then took the whole shot down in one gulp. I don’t know what came over me but I wanted to prove myself to him. I didn’t want him thinking he could walk all over me. I’d already experienced men like him before, “Shouldn’t approach women you don’t know demanding they show you their face. Sounds a bit creepy.”
He let out a laugh and took his shot, adding another to my cup and another to his, “fine. What if we go to one of the rooms and you show me your face there? I’m in charge of the doors and I gotta make sure you’re on his list. No one else has to see you though.”
Taking my now 4th shot I looked at him. Again my eyes ran over him for a second and I thought to myself “could I fight him off of me?” The idea of following this stranger into a private room was so out of this world insane but, there was just something different about this man. I kept thinking he seemed so familiar but like I had known him when I was a child and hadn’t seen him since. I finally answered agreeing to follow him into a room.
I thought how I was glad that this stranger was helping me, that I didn’t wanna be kicked out of this party for not complying with the host’s rules, and here they were letting me keep my identity a secret as long as they could confirm who I am.
To get to the room he took my hand and let me up the stairs of the house through crowds of people. I kept thinking that there were so many people there it was crazy that Raphael would have invited all those people.
Mind you, as the man is taking me to the room I still have no inclination that he is Raphael. I’ve never once touched Raphael. But in that moment he was touching me, holding my hand and pulling me around all the strange people. I felt like a doll to this man but I couldn’t pull away. I wanted him to know who I was.
Inside the room was another story entirely. As soon as we entered he asked, “could you take off your mask for me?”
I unlace my mask from the back and drop it into my hands. My eyes meet his again and yet again I am left breathless but unaware. I still do not recognize him.
“You’re definitely on the list,” he said under his breath. He hands me my cup and pours me another shot, then another for himself. He downs his first, I down mine as he starts to turn to me.
His hand falls on my thigh, his fingers move along my inner thigh, “I’ve been wanting to touch you since you walked past me. You didn’t even look in my direction. You ignored me and hugged some random.”
“How do you know they were random?” I asked trying to keep the distance between us but only feeling myself grow closer to him as he starts to spread my legs.
“You should only be around me don’t you think? Look at you and look at me, we’re on fire. This world is ours…” his fingers loop into the sides of my underwear.
He yanks and pulls down my panties, taking them off my feet. He makes eye contact with me as he gets closer to my pussy, his fingers move with a mind of their own. He starts using my body as his own play toy. I feel his fingers creep inside of me and all I can do is gasp.
"I don't just hook up with strangers," I told him, my hand tracing up his arm, trying to find the strength to push him off of me. Since the moment my eyes had fallen on him, I knew it was over but I was really trying to catch enough courage to ignore my desires.
It all seemed to good to be true, like he and I were not supposed to ever have met, and that least of all we weren't supposed to meet like this. This stranger being Raphael was something I couldn't wrap my head around, couldn't even in see in the stranger's eyes the uncanny anger that Raphael always festered in me. He just seemed to have come out of a dream, and I was trying to fight it.
He didn't seem to adhere to my gentle touches or incoherent begs, he just took one hand and placed it on my thigh, spreading my legs as his other hand continued to finger me. When my legs were open, he took his free hand and started to lift up my dress just a little at a time, "we don't have to be strangers."
Little moans by this point were escaping from my mouth. I had only known two other people that had been able to understand that my hesitation never meant no, it always meant convince me. While I never would encourage that behavior from other women, I knew myself to be a coy little fairy playing games with those that wanted me.
My rejection, my no's, were all encouragement to be cruel-er to me, to step on my toes and make me beg for you to continue. But here this strange man was, immediately recognizing what I needed from him. He made eye contact with me as his two fingers continued to thrust inside of me, my ass was now out in the air, my dress bunched at my waist, my tits absolutely throbbing from the heat that we were creating.
"How about this?" he asked, lifting me in one go off the floor and laying me down on the bed. He hovered over me, holding me down with his big hands, as he said, "how about... instead of us being strangers," his fingers started moving a little rougher inside of me, "I spell my name out for you."
"Spell... spell it out then!" I half shouted at him, in between moans and louder gasps. I made eye contact with him and realized he was only an inch from my face. I could smell the whiskey on his breath, I could feel the weight he was putting on me. I watched his lips, waiting for him to speak, but instead...
He went down. he kneeled down on the floor at the edge of the bed, and pressed his lips against my pussy. He started writing with his tongue inside of me, I clutched onto his hair, his free hand finished lifting my dress off me and he let it rest against my neck as the free hand began to squeeze and grope my tits.
"This is not... this is not... I don't know what you're spelling!" I moaned loudly and felt my vision spinning. I could hear the music outside thumping so loud the whole floor was shaking, but I thought it was the orgasms. One by one, my body began to let out orgasm after orgasm. Not entirely sure if he finished a letter, finished his name, or what, but my body would convulse and shake as cum began to slip down.
After about three minutes and several full body orgasms that left me almost mute, he picked his head up and I felt his free hand reach down in between us. He pressed his jeans to my opening, and I could feel his bulge squeezing the fabric of his jeans.
He continued to finger me as he rubbed himself against my clit, my eyes opened and I followed the path from his eyes down to his neck down to his arms, down to his pants. "Now that you know my name there shouldn't be a problem. I want to be inside of you. I want to feel you squeeze around me." He told me, his eyes gazing down at me with something like a volcanic fire that I had never seen before. He was confident, but his body, his eyes, his soul were all so violently on fire and frantic and it seemed like he knew me from a dream, too.
I knew this was the time to stop, I knew that if there was any moment to make it all end, I'd have to do it now. But, I didn't want it to end. All my life I had chased after the feelings from that dream, and now here the man was in front of me making me feel all those things. I didn't want to give it up, I wanted to play, I wanted to feel him. My hands made their way to his shirt, and pulling it from the bottom I got it off his body and I examined his bare chest.
The muscles were tight and big, and just his bicep alone was the size of my head. I felt like he could have his way with me even if I wasn't consenting, but it felt so good to see that he was letting me choose how I wanted it. My hands ran along his chest and then down to his belt, and I looked up at him again, "maybe we just... make this quick, pretend it never happened later. Just one moment that we never have to experience again."
He took off his belt for me, and put my hands securely together, wrapping and locking the belt around them. Quickly he reached down and unzipped his pants, letting them fall, and then he took his underwear and slid it off. He stood in front of me, one hand still fingering me furiously while the other hand began to stroke his cock.
When I finally looked at it I was excited and happy. He looked to be about 8 inches, rock hard and ready to perform, I looked back into his eyes as I felt the tip of his cock get pressed up to my clit, then I feel it slide down as he slips his fingers out of my hole. With his dick now throbbing at my entrance, I let out a quiet moan and reach out to kiss him. My arms are tied and I try to fight the restraints, but I move closer to him. I wanted to feel him.
He kissed me while starting to push his cock into me. The world seemed to slow down again like it had earlier. I felt pain immediately, his dick was big and my body was very small. While his kisses stifled me, I was still able to let out of a moan cry, feeling him slip deeper into me. He kept my legs nice and spread with his body, and just slowly slipped his throbbing erection into me.
His kisses only got harder when I got louder. His hands only got greedier, the more I tried to escape from his restraint. He began to pound in a rhythm, rubbing my clit while being inside my pussy. The feeling was magical. I was crying into his mouth, letting out louder and louder moans the more he inflicted on me. He seemed to just know me and my body, but I could have sworn I'd never met him in my life and his cunnilingus spelling did nothing to enlighten me.
My hips started moving to his rhythm, my body gave in so easy to him. He threw my dress off my neck and wrapped his hand around my neck instead. I was breathless without his kisses, I was staring up at him with an open mouth as he just continued to choke me. The feeling of his hips crashing into mine as I squeezed his cock inside of me made me feel nearly feral. We were like animals.
From there it all got rougher, got harder, he would smack me across the face and then kiss me, he would turn me over and spank me so hard I could've sworn there were marks, then he would fuck me from behind, pulling my hair and choking me. I kept up with him through it all, though my moans got louder, and with it I could barely tell if he was enjoying himself because he was pretty silent, but when he flipped me onto my back, climbed onto the bed with me, and pulled me close into his arms I knew he enjoyed it.
In that moment, squeezing my ass and slamming his cock into me, he came. He pushed as deep as possible, and I couldn't help but think that I had just let a stranger bust in me. I felt him pulsating as he came, and he continued letting out small thrusts to make sure all his nut was out.
I knew that I should stand, that I should leave, but he kissed me again, and against my better judgement I stayed. He kissed my neck and left hickies, sucked on my breast, and continued to fuck me. At first it was slower, and I could feel his semen and my cum compiling together inside of me, but soon he was back to going harder, meaner, and I was overflowing with our juices.
I don't remember how long it lasted. It could have been an hour, or five, but I knew he came three times, and each time he didn't pull out. It was like he was doing it on purpose, but I never told him to pull out. The more he came the more I wanted, but, eventually my body and brain tired out and I started to feel myself dozing off. He didn't even ask if we were stopping, he just pulled out of me and went to the bathroom connected to the room.
When he came back he began to clean me, and he helped me into my dress again. I was quite sleepy, my head barely staying up, and I kept opening my eyes to look at him. He was getting dressed and I kept noticing his dark hair and dark eyes. I wondered if I did know him, but I still couldn't put my finger on it.
"Good night, Dolores," he said, giving me a kiss and touching my back gently. He seemed so cautious over me all of a sudden, but it wasn't unwarranted.
"Wait," I called out as I saw him begin walking to the door, "stay with me until I fall asleep... Please."
He moved my hair out of my face and kissed my head, "alright." Then I felt him sit down beside me on the bed.
I scooted into him, thought for a second that I hadn't told him my name, wondered how he knew it, and then I passed out with my head on his lap.
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At least now it finally feels good that you're disgusted with me. I don't plan on destroying myself anymore. I will be keeping this next job until i can find something thats a better fit for me. But my main plan...i will be so happy, i will be so fulfilled and i will be more loved than i ever have before. Real love, not manipulation, a real love that doesn't leave me feeling like i could never be enough for you. I thought there was something wrong with me the whole time, when really the only thing wrong was i couldn't love and accept myself, so i couldn't possibly belive that someone else could love me. But after in left in January 21, did you really love me again? Because it's hard to think that anyone would put somebody they love though that kind of mental abuse. You took advantage of how much i loved you, you knew i wouldn't leave so you did whatever you wanted despite knowing what it was doing to me. I really think that all of last year was you trying to see how much i would put up with since you feel felt like i was making you deal with my shit. I never asked you to do anything anywhere near as traumatic, hurtful and manipulatie like the things you asked me to do regularly. You blatantly stepped on my boundaries, you made me think i would be safe, i never should have believed you. As soon as it became something you felt like you wanted i didn't matter anymore. And to top it off, you got mad at me for being upset that the person i should have been able to trust tried to take advantage of me sexually. I brought up that exact example and you made me think you understood, that you cared what i felt like. You didn't. All you care about is your dick. But it's ok, i really am the stupid one. I saw so many red flags all over you when we were first hanging out. But i wanted to belive all the beautiful things you were telling me.
So ya you deserve a solid and ongoing fuck you. I hope you for l find someone who treats you the way up you deserve.
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First | Next
She's got a big coat and a big gun and a big attitude. These are the things that keep her alive.
She strolls into a town she doesn't know the name of in her scuffed tennis shoes in late May with a backpack over one shoulder and an insulated grocery bag over the other, something that's probably a soft rifle case slung over her back. No car, no sign of who she is or where she's headed. She casts an intimidating figure despite her average height.
She knows where she's headed and what she's here for. It isn't an impromptu bartering market with what few people are left, but if someone wants to trade her leftover meat for some fruit and ammo, she isn't complaining. She also isn't talking a whole lot, except when she needs to. She drops a small tin of coffee onto her pile of barter and nods her head at the lady she's trading with.
"Throw in one of those cans of vegetables?"
The woman does, and she moves on. There's an old drive-in movie theater at the edge of this town, according to her maps, and next to it, a train track. Trains are the only piece of infrastructure even remotely functioning anymore. She can only charge her phone if she has access to a solar panel, which isn't often; she doesn't know how to jury-rig one directly to her battery.
There's a group of people under the old movie screen when she turns up. They're all vaguely ignoring each other, but also glancing around with varying levels of suspicion or curiosity.
"Hey," somebody calls. "Brown coat."
She turns, raises an eyebrow and a hand to the knife in her coat pocket. "What?" She calls back.
"You look like you're headed somewhere."
She shrugs, looking toward the track. She doesn't know the train schedule, if there even is one. She'll follow the track until she feels the rattle. "Maybe I am."
She turns away with a jaunty wave and keeps walking. This line runs east for a while before heading north. She should be heading northwest, probably, but it works well enough either way. Nothing is as the crow flies. She'll get there eventually, this is just the quickest, most sustainable way to do it. She's been walking for too long.
Footsteps pound up behind her, and she turns halfway, her hand going this time not to her knife, but to push back her coat. There's a pistol at her hip and she hasn't had to use it in self-defense, yet. If she has to start today, well, her hands might shake, but she's willing. She is a young woman on a mission, and she refuses to leave her family hanging, uncertain of her fate.
A boy trots up, strawverry blond-haired and lanky. She thinks that he'd been watching her, one of those whose eyes held more curiosity than wariness, back at the drive-in theater. He shouldn't be following her — the thought is mostly for herself, an automatic suspicion of anyone who comes near her, but at the same time, he should know better than to approach a stranger in this kind of landscape. Especially a stranger with a gun; two guns, but he doesn't know that and doesn't need to.
"Where are you headed?" He asks, with a protective glance back over his shoulder, like the follower thinks he's been followed.
She looks him up and down. "Where are you headed?" She returns. She's uneasy with anyone else around, trying to start up conversation. She sticks to herself, no groups, no other travellers.
He shrugs. "Nowhere?" It puts her hackles up even more, that he's got no reason to be taking the same path she is. She wonders if she could take him in a fight.
"That's that on that, then." She adjusts her pack's straps, and expects to hear the stranger's footsteps quit following her, but he keeps walking. At least he's at a fairly safe distance, long enough that she'll see it if he moves to try to attack her.
"I don't have any reason to go anywhere," he says. "Who are you?"
"Nobody," she says.
"Okay, Odysseus."
She snorts despite herself. It's been a while since anyone joked with her. She tips her head to the side and looks at the guy again. He's probably her age, but he's deceptively soft. At least, she's assuming it's deceptive. No one can be completely disingenuous here and now, not even her. He has a slightly guarded, mostly curious look to him, and she wonders what he's hiding behind it. She's glad it's broad daylight, even if no one else is around; it makes her feel safer somehow.
"I'm Robin."
"Which one?" She asks. Two can play whatever kind of mind game this is.
He doesn't answer right away, and she doesn't look at him. If she did, she would catch the confused look on his face and the way the question finally clicks. "Tim Drake," he says after a minute.
"Okay." She lets him keep walking alongside her, but if he falls behind she slows her pace to keep him in her peripheral vision. A little jaded banter is fine, she keeps that up with most everyone she has to talk to; it's part of what keeps people from thinking she's some soft, lost little girl. Her snark is both completely genuine, and a wall between her and others. She will not let some random stalker take her out, though, not when she's this far along on her plan.
A train is coming, she can hear it. No, she can't hear it; she can feel it, vibrating in the ground and the air. It feels like an earthquake, and she relaxes into it. She stops walking and the stranger does too, watching her. She glances back at him, makes sure all her bags are secure, and steps closer to the tracks. The guy just keeps watching.
"You never told me your name." He says it casually enough, but she grits her teeth at the tenacity. It doesn't matter now, she's about to be gone, and he can't stop her.
She sees the train now, coming around a bend. It's not too fast; perfect speed for her to catch a ride. She nods as it comes close, starts speedwalking, not to keep pace, but to not lose her chance. The stranger trots to follow again.
She sees a step and a handle that she can reach. Her heart is pounding; she's only done this once before. It's a risk just to jump, a veritable leap of faith. She tips her head, smirks in the general direction of the stranger.
"Dany," she says, finally answering his question, and jumps for the train.
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The Southsider (pt. 4)
Sweet Pea x reader
Chapter Summary: Now that an old secret is out, y/n's life takes some emotional turns in different ways, but Sweet Pea is there for her every step of the way.
Word Count: 1966
Chapter 1 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 5
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You stared blankly at the jacket, before trying to give it back to FP. "I don't know what you're talking about. My mom wasn't in the Serpents."
FP didn't grab the jacket. "She was, kid. I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner."
"No she wasn't. She couldn't have been." You felt your anger rise.
"Why is that?" Jughead asked. He sounded slightly offended, but you didn't care at this point.
"Because when we were getting beaten and bruised up, where the hell were the Serpents, hm? I didn't see them, or anyone, lift a finger for us. Isn't it one of your laws to protect one of your own? Clearly that can't be true because, guess what, she's dead." You were tearing up, your voice cracking. You hated people watching you cry, but today had been too emotional for you. You couldn't help it.
"She didn't tell us anything. She made it seem like nothing was wrong. Whenever we'd ask about you, she just said you were shy. She was always smiling we didn't think..." FP trailed off, tears in his eyes.
If you weren't so confused with your feelings, you would be comforting him right now. But you were, and so you didn't hold back what you wanted to say.
"Four years, FP. You kept this from me for four years. All this time I thought I had no one except you and Jughead, but even then I didn't want to be a burden. I could have had a family to go to, but you kept this from me. You took away an option that my mom could have wanted for me-"
"You don't think I know that?!" FP yelled. You flinched, backing up. You backed up into Sweet Pea, tears flowing down your cheeks. Sweet Pea unconsciously grabbed onto you. FP calmed down, instantly regretting yelling at you. That's something your dad must have done a lot. "Kid, I'm sorry-"
You slipped out of Sweet Pea's arms and opened the trailer, not looking back as you began to walk away. Sweet Pea bolted after you. "Y/n wait!"
You turned around, tears flowing down your face. He grabbed you and held you into a tight embrace. This caused you to just let go. You clung to him, letting all your tears out. He put his nose in your hair, kissing the top of your head.
When you calmed down you looked up at him. He wiped a tear from your eye. "Why are you still here with me?" You said in a hoarse whisper. "You see how broken I am, so why do you stay?"
"You're not broken. I don't care what you say about yourself. I like the way you can make me laugh, and the way you're so nice to everyone, and I like the way you get back up after being hit with something. You see something in me that I can't even see, and I do the same for you." He grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a kiss.
You then rest your head on his shoulder. "It's starting to get dark. You want me to take you home?"
"Sure." You said quietly.
"Good. I kinda like it when you hold onto me." He smirked, causing you to smile. You two drove to your house, both seeing the paper that was taped to your door.
You both walked up and saw that someone had written Southside Skank on it. It was coincidentally in Reggie font as well. You sighed. "On second thought, maybe you should stay the night at my place. I don't like you being here alone tonight."
And with that you packed your toothbrush and a pair of clothes with you, riding back to Sweet Pea's trailer. When you got there you both sat down on the couch and Sweet Pea started asked you about your likes and dislikes, wanting to get to know you better. Once you answered a question, you asked one right back to find out more about him.
"It's getting kind of late, we should go to bed." Sweet Pea suggested.
"Sure." You looked into your bag, and wanted to slap yourself. "Dammit."
"What's up?"
"I forgot to bring something to wear to sleep."
"Just wear some of my clothes. It'll be hot." He smirked. There was a knock at the door.
"I'll go find something to wear." You said, after seeing his worried expression. He didn't want any more drama to happen to you today.
He opened the door. It was Jughead. "Look man-"
"I know she probably doesn't want to see me. I just want you to give these to her." He gave him the serpent jacket, the letter, and the camera. "I might have borrowed the camera for a bit." He said quietly.
He took all the stuff, not knowing what to say. "Could you tell her that I'm sorry, and that, uh, she does have a family?" Sweet Pea nodded in response.
He closed the door. You came out of the bedroom in just a big t-shirt, long enough to be just above your knees. He stared at you in awe. You were so beautiful to him. "Pea." You said sweetly.
"Yeah?"
"Eyes up here please. This is already embarrassing enough."
"Sorry." He gave you a shit eater smile. "You look pretty. Who knew you'd look so cute in my clothes?"
"Ha ha." You giggled. "Who was at the door?"
"Uh," he looked at you, unsure on what to say. You smiled and nodded, reassuring him that you'll be okay. "It was Jughead. He wanted to say that he was sorry and that you have family. He also brought some stuff."
You nodded and walked over to the table. "He took my camera?" You opened the camera, looking at the pictures in it. They were of you and your friends, including FP and Pop.
"Is it important to you?" He asked, wrapping his arms around behind you.
"Yeah. My mom gave it to me." You went to the very first picture. It was of a girl with a woman. They were both smiling. "That's me and her."
"Am I important to you?" He asked quietly against your neck.
"Mhmm." You smiled.
He then took the camera. "Then I think I should be in here." He turned the camera around kissing you on the cheek. You giggled. He then checked to see how the picture turned out. "You look good."
"You look better." You gently say. He gave you a peck on the cheek and went to change into his pajamas. He came out in pajama pants and a plain grey t-shirt, carrying a pillow and a blanket. He set the pillow down and laid down. "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to bed?" You didn't want him to be uncomfortable because of you.
"What? No, c'mon." You took his hand, pulling him up. You lead him to the bedroom. "Lay down." He complied, intrigued. You got under the covers, facing the other way. "Good night."
He stared at you for a moment. "Night." He mumbled. You were so adorable to him, he couldn't help but stare at you.
His mind then began to wander to that note. He knew he shouldn't be nosey, but he couldn't help himself. After a while he waited until he knew you were asleep, then slipped out of the bed and went to the table in the kitchen. He opened it, reading every word. He smiled, thinking about how this could have a good effect on you. He hoped you took your mom's advise.
He went back to bed, to see that the covers were kicked off. The shirt was hiked up, and he saw your star wars panties. He held in a laugh. He looked at you, perfect as can be. He gently pulled down the shirt and put the blanket back over you, getting into bed next to you and holding you as you slept. "Don't worry," he whispered. "I'm not going anywhere."
You woke up to Sweet Pea holding you as you were snuggled up near his chest. You smiled, slowly getting out of his arms and off of the bed.
You sat down on one of the chairs at the small table in the kitchen. You took notice in the letter that was meant for you. You grabbed it, taking a breathe before unfolding it.
Dear Y/n,
Now that you're reading this, I didn't make it. I am so sorry for letting you live with the burden of your dad. I thought I loved him, but he changed. I should have told somebody what was going on. He threatened me using you if I told anybody, but I could have figured out a way. I'm sorry for that.
I was and will always be a serpent. My tattoo is on my ankle, in case you were wondering. I joined the Serpents when I didn't have anyone else to go to. They are my tribe. My family. Don't blame them for my death, they didn't know. I hope you accept this jacket and join the family that I loved as much as I loved you.
I will send this letter to FP, my best friend. I don't think I have much time anyway, your dad is drinking more often. FP will give this to you when he thinks your ready to join.
You have a very important choice to make y/n. Think it over, because it could be a best one you'll ever make.
Love, mommy
You folded the paper back and sighed. You weren't going to cry over this, you were done crying. The Serpents. They seemed important to her, and every Serpent you knew were full of trust and loyalty. The Serpents. Maybe you should join.
"Hey, what're you doing?" Sweet Pea asked, his voice thick from barely waking up. His hair was in a cute mess as he scratched his stomach.
"Just thinking." I gave him a small smile as he took out two bowls onto the table, pouring one with cereal and giving the cereal box to you.
"About what?" You poured the cereal, giving it to Sweet Pea, in exchange for milk. You poured yourself some, and he put the stuff back.
"About that jacket." He sat down and nodded. You two ate in comfortable silence. After you finished you got up and washed your bowl and spoon, heading for the bedroom.
"Star Wars, huh?"
"Oh my God! Sweets!" You slammed the door shut, changing into your clothes. Sweet Pea smiled. You came out in your regular clothes and pony tail. "Not cool." You gave him a kiss on the cheek, heading to the bathroom. You heard him laugh.
You both got ready, smiling to yourself as you saw Sweet Pea do his hair. It reminded you of Grease. He was just too cute in your eyes. He opened the front door, holding it open for you. "Ready?"
You hesitated, looking at the jacket. You couldn't help it. You let out a sigh and quickly stuffed it in your backpack after folding it. "Yeah." You looked at Sweet Pea, who had the biggest smile on. "Don't." You bit back a smile.
You two rode to school, and you were about to walk to class after hopping off, but a hand grabbed yours. "Wait!"
"What's wrong Sweets?" You asked sweetly.
"Nothing, I, uh, was wondering if you'd want to go on a date with me, tonight." He looked down at your held hands.
You leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned against his bike. "I'd love to." He smiled, and was about to kiss you until the warning bell rang. "Gotta go." You pulled away.
"What?!"
"I'll see you later!" You said as you rushed away to your class, leaving Sweet Pea feeling frustrated and unsatisfied. He'll have to get you back for that.
The rest of this school day was about to be horrible for you. Just as you thought, the people of the Northside did not take kindly to those who are not their own.
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Author's Note: I was going to leave this on a bigger cliffhanger, but I figured I could push that for a little later in the story. For now let's focus more on fluff.
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Text
Chapter Twenty-Eight
A tall needle-like tower fills the open landscape. A small blinking light on top of the communications array, "There it is. The Empire's main communications tower on Lothal. It routes comm from every Imperial operation on the planet, including the Empire's Holonet broadcasts," Kanan states.
Kanan, as well as Sabine, Ezra and Keen are laying on their stomachs on an arch not far from the tower. They are looking for weak points, in security, and in general.
Sabine pushes her HUD down, "I got bucketheads on the perimeter and at least three anti-ship batteries around the base. Not an easy trip to the front door."
"Now, now, Sabine. Don't underestimate yourself."
"Sabine, let's be optimistic. Say we get to the front door. What then?" Ezra asks.
The Mandalorian seems to consider for a few moments, "I-I could upload a data spike into the central computer and have that transmitter operational in I don't know, five minutes?"
"I said be optimistic."
"Five minutes is optimistic," the Mandalorian grumbles, waving her hands.
"Three is better," Kanan responds.
'Hey. You can have it good or you can have it fast."
"All right. Scan us a holomap and let's get out of here."
An Imperial transport ferries underneath the team, who all press their bodies down as far as they can into the arch. A droid floats out of the transport, just into view of Kanan's macrobinoculars. "I don't like the look of that thing," Kanan nods to the floating droid.
"An Imperial Probe Droid," Keen grumbles.
"Does it see us?" Ezra questions, squinting at the machine.
"Not yet," Sabine responds, not looking up from her scans.
"How can you tell?"
Keen places a hand on the boys shoulder, winking at him, "Cause we aren't dead."
They once again press themselves against the arch, as the droid passes by them. The droid floats forward under the arch, it's head swivelling back and forth, scanning the area all around it. It's chattering, probably relaying information straight to the Empire.
"We need to move," Kanan orders, standing to his feet.
"Um, hate to mention this," Ezra mumbles, "but where are the bikes?"
"Next to the road," Kanan responds.
"Tal Gnosh, right where that things gonna see them."
The probe moves closer and closer to the bike, scanning the area all around it. The closer it gets to the speeders, the higher the anxiety spikes in the Force.
"Hope somebody's got an idea, or this whole plan is shot," Sabine comments.
Ezra clamps his eyes shut. He lifts one hand, drawing the Force in around him. Keen smiles as she watches him bond with the Force. A hissing sound erupts from the tall grass, a Loth-cat leaping at the droid. It claws the droid, dropping it to the ground, sparking.
"I could have blasted it and gotten that result."
"Yeah, but then the Empire would suspect something was up."
"Good thinking, Padawan," Kanan compliments, Keen ruffling his hair.
"Okay. It's touching when you two bond, but I'm betting that probe has friends, so let's move it."
***
"Hey, Kanan?" Keen asks. The rest of the crew is in the common room, working on the transmitter device.
"Hmm?"
"You think this is the best plan?"
Kanan crosses his arms, "I think it's the best one we've got."
"I agree, but, I sense something bad is going to happen," she says, pursing her lips.
He places a hand on her shoulder, "I guess we've just got to hope. But, if it comes down to it, any one of us is ready to sacrifice our lives for this cause," he states, opening the door for the common room.
"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about."
"How we doing?" The Knight asks, entering the room.
"Well, Chopper has the spike. We get him into the tower and he can upload it right into the computer core from any terminal," Sabine informs him.
Chopper grumbles at all the rebels surrounding him.
"Stop complaining, bolt-brain. You have the easy job," Zeb growls at him.
Keen, leans against the doorpost, "What's the range of this spike, then?"
"As long as the tower is transmitting, we're good to go. Everyone will hear what we say. Well, anyone who's listening."
"Once the spike is uploaded, we'll signal," Kanan points a finger at the Mandalorian.
"And I spirit you away in the Phantom."
"That's the plan, more or less."
"And things always go according to plan, right?" Sabine half-jokes.
Ezra crosses his arms from his place on the bench, sulking, "She's right about that."
"What's with you?"
"Nothing."
"Let's take a walk," Kanan leads his Padawan outside onto the ramp of the Ghost, Keen following them both. "What's on your mind?"
Ezra looks down, scuffing his shoe on the metal, "I'm not sure we should go through with this."
"Ezra, you are up to this. I know you are."
"We both know," Ar'iabel says, coming to stand beside the boy.
"I know that's what you want to think. But look. As much as I wish I was like my parents, I'm not."
"There's something else," Kanan says, placing his hands on the boys shoulders, making him look at him.
The Padawan sighs, "My parents spoke out and I lost them, and I don't– he stops to grunt, his eyes on the verge of tears, "I-I don't want to lose you guys, okay? Not over this."
"Oh, Ez," the Jedi Master wraps the boy in a hug, "We're not going anywhere. You're gonna be sick and tired of us. Begging us to leave. And, if anything goes wrong, which is highly doubtful, we'll join the Force. We'll never be far away."
"All of us have lost things. And we will take more losses before this is over. But we can't let that stop us from taking risks. We have to move forward. And when the time comes, we have to be ready to sacrifice for something bigger," Kanan adds.
"That sounds good, but it's not so easy."
"Nothing important ever is."
The Knight sighs, "It's not easy for me either. My master tried to show me, but I don't think I ever understood it until now trying to teach it to you."
"It doesn't get any easier. I'm nearing 300 years, and loss is still one of the hardest concepts to grasp, but death is inevitable. One day, we all become one with the Force, whether we want to or not."
Kanan listens to Keen, remembering their discussion from a few days before, "I guess we're all learning these things together."
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fairycosmos · 7 years
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TW suicide ideation. I feel so insignificant and just wrong. The way I talk is wrong. None of my thoughts are interesting or profound enough. I don't bring anything important to the table and if I was gone it wouldn't make any difference at all. Dead or alive it's all the same to the rest of the world. So why should I keep living when all I feel is pain? Even when people care about me I can't let them because I know it's just a matter of time until they just get bored of me.
hey, love. i’m really sorry that you feel this way, but i must say i can relate a lot. it’s terrible to have to deal with this sort of mindset every single day, and i know it can make the world feel exhausting and cruel and like a waste of time, so you should honestly give yourself a bit of credit simply for dealing w the bullshit. it’s not easy. it’s actually a lot harder than most people realize. you’re in pain, and you’re living with it each day, and that’s a heavy burden to carry. and i wish i could do something for you that would actually help, because you don’t deserve it. you really don’t.
you should know that just because you see yourself in such a negative light, doesn’t mean that everybody else does. somebody could get to know you and think that the way you talk is wonderful. they might think that everything you say is profound and beautiful. they might think that you’re the most wonderful person in the world. just bc you personally don’t find your own thoughts interesting, doesn’t mean others will hold the same opinion. that’s the one good thing about people. the best ones see all of the warmth and brightness in you, even if you don’t see it yourself. i bet you have some amazing things to say. anyone would be lucky to know you. i know you probably don’t believe me, but i genuinely think that you won’t allow yourself to realize your full potential. it’s not a bad thing to like yourself, to recognize your own positive attributes, you know? and look, there’s no ‘wrong’ way to be a person (tho i know it can feel like there is sometimes) but when it really comes down to it, you’re a person and you’re here which means that you’re inherently worth something, you matter because you take up space on this planet. it’s indisputable. the fact that you’re alive is enough, you don’t have to meet any other standards or fit into any sort of binary other than that. it might take you a while to start believing that, maybe even years, but i hope that one day you do. i hope you learn how to stop fighting yourself and i hope you learn to let yourself just be. bc you don’t owe the world anything, tbh. you don’t owe anyone.
remember, you only see yourself from your level of perception. and your perception of life and yourself and the world can get pretty warped if you’re dealing with depression or suicidal thoughts. just because your mind is generating this self hating ideology, doesn’t mean it’s anywhere near the truth. for example, i know for a fact that if you killed yourself it would make a bigger difference than you can even begin to imagine. don’t even entertain the idea that if you were gone, things would remain the same. start distrusting your own mind every time it starts to tell you that bullshit, because it’s not right or realistic and if you committed suicide it would leave a hole in the lives of everybody you know. it’s just not worth it. you might not ‘let’ people care about you, but they do anyway. they want you to be okay and they want to help, even if you’re resisting and pulling away and isolating yourself. the people that care about you aren’t going to get ‘bored’ of you, that’s not how it works. they know who you are and they’re here for you and if they didn’t like or love you, they wouldn’t care as much as they do.
i get that it’s fucking hard. i get that it’s extremely difficult to ignore your own mind bc it’s always there and it’s always in control. i get that empty words don’t compare to the immensity of what you’re feeling. but try to take it to heart, even if it’s just a little bit. this is all temporary, you know? good times don’t last but bad times don’t either. please, please don’t make the permanent decision to end your own life over something temporary. over a time in your life that is only a very small percentage of the overall experience of living. there’s so much you haven’t seen and so many people you haven’t met that will think the world of you. killing yourself will solve literally nothing, it’s just you cheating yourself out of all of the amazing things that are still to come.
if you haven’t seen a professional about the way that you’re feeling, and if it’s a possibility for you, i’d really recommend that. the whole thing i said before about perception and mental illness is really the root of the problem, and that can only be helped by people that know what they’re doing. mental health is just as important as physical in every single way, and should be treated with the same seriousness and care. if you had a broken leg i know you wouldn’t just leave it, you’d see someone. you’ve got to think about this in the same way. because it really can be prevented from getting any worse. there are A LOT of options available to you, more than you realize tbh. it’s not just pills, it’s coping mechanisms and therapy and relearning the patterns of your own brain. and i’m not saying it’s easy, or that it will solve everything immediately, but it’s a hell of a good start. don’t give up when there are so many ways that things can and will get better. it might take you a while to gather up the courage to see someone, or talk to about it. and that’s okay, just take it at your own pace. but make sure you start putting yourself first. make yourself a priority. 
even if you can’t see a professional for some reason, there’s hotlines and online helplines and independent mental health organizations that can offer you the same caliber of help and support. as much as you feel like you’re alone in this, i can pretty much guarantee that you’re not. so many people have been through what you’re going through right now and they’ve survived it. i genuinely believe that you can, too. i know you probably don’t want to talk to anyone irl about what’s going on, but it’s the main way forward and it won’t be as bad as you think it’s going to be. it can actually be kind of a relief. it’s up to you, of course. not your mental illness - you. make the call, decide if you want things to change or if you want things to stay the same. you’re in control more than you think you are, more than your brain is leading you to believe.
these might help in the short term -
http://imwiththeclouds.tumblr.com/post/38347319557/100-reasons-to-why-you-shouldnt-commit-suicide
http://www.matthaig.com/reasons-to-stay-alive/
i wish i could fully impress on you how much i want you to stay alive, how vital it is that you keep living, how temporary all the bad shit is. i wish i could fully explain why getting help isn’t awkward or weird or embarrassing, it’s simply something you need to do. look, i’d really love to talk sometime -  message me if you need anything, or if you need a friend. i’ll be here, and i care and i won’t get bored. obviously it’s not the same as having someone irl, but still. just hit me up if you need me. i hope you’re okay.
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