this is what i do when i don't sleep

I Want to Make You Smile

HELLO!! I have so many Solangelo fanfic prompts and it makes me soooo happy. So this is one that @disenchanted-rose sent me where they slept together but one of them left before the other could wake up and now they don’t know what to do. Sorry @disenchanted-rose but if u wanted NSFW content I rlly don’t like to do that so this is free of it. Let’s just keep it at midnight kisses and shirtless boys :D 

 Idk if I messed up the ages, but I know Nico is currently 14 and Will is 15.

——- 

 Nico di Angelo’s life was always a mess. His mother, his sister, his father, the fact that he was the gayest person in the word. Life just hated him. He went through puberty and it just dumped whole new problems on his shoulders, giving him nightmares, causing him to raise the dead when he had surges of anger, giving him suicidal thoughts. He thought the world would be over when he found himself falling for a certain doctor at the age of eleven. 

 When he was twelve, the boy with golden hair started to show concern for him. He was constantly showing up in Nico’s cabin, making sure he was taking his medication and that he was alright. Sometimes he would stay and they would talk well into the night. Whenever Will left, it was as if a part of his soul was ripped away as his footsteps echoed through the empty room. He was surrounded by darkness, and his light left. 

 When he was thirteen, almost everyone found out. Percy, Jason, Annabeth, Piper, Leo, Reyna, Frank, Hazel. All of the people who where remotely his friends. Will was the only one who didn’t. Frank and Hazel, bless their souls, let him be and didn’t force him to do anything. Percy, Jason, and Leo where constantly asking him questions, telling him to just ask Will out. Piper and Annabeth where constantly playing matchmaker dropping not-so-subtle hints to Will. Reyna assured him that Will liked him even though she has no idea who this boy really is. They where in his hair, holding their breath for the moment. 

When he was fourteen, it happened. Fourteen was a young age, and it wasn’t an age for serious commitment. But sometimes things happen and you find yourself in awkward situations. Maybe fourteen was the worse time to do it, maybe he should’ve waited, but words come out of your mouth, you do things without thinking, and it just happens. 

 Will came in for another check up. They where side by side on Nico’s bed and the light was fading outside, making it hard to see Will. But Nico memorized the lines of his face. He could see him, even now. He saw Will’s easy smile and shining eyes. All he wanted to do was kiss him. Nico must have been making a face, because Will stopped smiling. 

 "Nico? Are you okay?“ 

 "Ummhumm,” Nico said, pursing his lips. He wouldn’t get upset as something as stupid as this. It didn’t fool Will, who has been treating him two years. Will puts his fingers on Nico’s chin and turns his face towards his. 

 "Nico. Really. What’s wrong?“ Nico wasn’t in his right mind. It was 1am and his eyes where starting to itch with sleep. So that’s why he planted his hands on Will’s thighs and pushed himself up so he was kissing Will Solace. Will was so surprised by this action that when Nico pushed, Will was pinned onto the bed. When they fell, Nico let out a startled "oomph”. They where splayed not so gracefully on the bed, and Nico felt himself blush. Will just giggled. 

“I guess I literally fell for you,” he says between giggles.

“Your a dork,” Nico says as if it’s a fact.

“I know,” Will says with a cheesy grin. Then, oh gods, he puts his hands on Nico’s cheeks.

“Let’s try that again with a lot more passion and a lot less surprise,” Will says, pressing his lips to Nico. Nico, being the awkward Son of Hades that he is, falls on Will again, knocking their foreheads together with a loud thump. Will giggles again as Nico apologizes and pushes himself off, but Will grabs his arm before he can take off and pulls him onto the bed beside him. They both lie on their backs now, staring at the ceiling of the cabin. For the first time ever, Nico notices the cracks in the roof that show glimpses of the stars outside as moonlight trickles in. Another beautiful thing he took for granted. 

“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” Will says dreamily. He takes a deep breath.

“Yeah…”

“You know who else is beautiful?”

“Gods, Will. If you say ‘me’ like in those memes I will–”

“You are, Neeks. You are the handsomest person I have ever met.” There is no stopping the heat that creeps into his cheeks, somehow making it’s way to his ears. Nico hides his face in his black hoodie, having no intention of coming out. 

“What are you doing?” Will says.

“Hiding.”

“Why.”

“Just shut up.” Nico feels Will maneuver himself on top of Nico on his hands and knees. 

“How am I supposed to kiss you if you’re hiding?” Will asks. Nico pokes his eyes out, and his eyes out only. Will unzipped Nico’s hoodie so that his face was showing. Will leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nico’s lips, and Nico responded by pushing back harder and harder, lifting his head up to meet Will. He then grabbed Will’s shirt and pulled him beside him so they where facing sideways and kissing. 

They moved closer and closer, relying on each other for heat as cold winds drifted through the cracks in the roof. Will’s hands where clenched in Nico’s hair as he kept pulling him closer and closer. Nico decided to place his hands around Will’s neck. Just to experiment, Nico slipped his hands under Will’s shirt and started to feel the lean muscles of his back. Will seemed pleased with this arrangement and Nico tried letting his hands travel up Will’s shirt instead of down. He honestly wasn’t sure what they where doing, but he almost died when Will let his hands slip up his shirt. They made trails of fires that created hidden scars on his back and it made him feel alive. More alive that Nico has ever felt. It made him feel less like a walking corpse with no soul and more like a person. For a moment, he forgot who he was. He was with the boy he loved since he was eleven.

Eventually the kisses slowed as it neared 3am. Both of them where bare chested and falling asleep. They stopped and Nico curled into a ball; his natural sleeping position. He was out in seconds, and was shivering. Will draped the covers over him and then climbed in with him, lying beside him and petting his hair. Nico murmured words of delight and occasionally said things in italian that Will did not understand. One phrase caught his attention though. 

“Ti amo, Will.” Will’s eyes widen. He has a basic understanding of languages to know that “amo” probably means “love”. 

Will fell asleep curled around Nico. 

Nico woke up first that morning. Sunlight was filtering in and Will’s golden curls shimmered. The drowsiness that caused his actions the night before was gone and he realized just what he did. I kissed Will Solace. Nico couldn’t believe it. It was too good to be true. Which means it wasn’t. It was something that may or may not have happened. Maybe they both fell asleep while talking and Nico dreamed all of those things. Maybe this was a one time thing that Will would yell about when he woke up. Of course he would yell at Nico and ask him what in Hades was he thinking. He would ask how he, the son of the god of the Underworld, could possibly think he’d have a shot with the boy made of sunlight, son of the god of the sun. How he could possibly think that the smile Will flashed could be his. He would say this was a fluke, and there is no way it could possibly happen.

So that’s why Nico maneuvered himself off of Will ever so slightly, creeping like a shadow without actually turning into a shadow. He threw on one of his black t-shirts and went down to the pavilion to try and act like everything was normal and avoid Will the entire day. The good thing was that people expected Nico to be lurking sadly in the shadows, so they didn’t notice the tears that streamed down his face. 

Nico was picking at his breakfast, having no intention of eating when a tray slammed down on the table, causing Nico, and the table to jump and Nico’s silverware to clatter to the floor. 

“What the hell, Nico?” Will shouts above him. Timidly, Nico lifts his eyes to Will’s angry blue ones. He was very aware of every eye on the two of them. 

“Are you really that cruel? Are you really as cold as you lead everyone to believe?” Will shouts. Nico finds himself shrinking smaller and smaller. 

Will,” Nico whispers urgently, “people are staring.” 

“I don’t f**king care if they’re staring. I can’t believe you left me alone! After everything!” Will’s face was red with anger. One of the campers drops their glass of orange juice on the floor. This outburst is outrageous. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad if it was someone else, but it was Will Solace. Will, who had the voice of an angel that would sooth people into recovery. Will, who has never once said a curse word in his life, swearing at Nico. 

“I-I-I-I was s-s-s-scared,” Nico managed to tremble out. 

“Scared? SCARED? Of what? Me?” 

“Of course I was scared of you, Will,” Nico says, standing up as well. “Did you ever think of what I must be feeling when you bursted in here? I was scared, Will. I was scared you’d reject me. I was scared you where playing tricks on me. I was scared that you would laugh in my face and call me names because that’s all anyone has ever done! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? I COULDN’T FACE YOU!” Will was silent for a moment. Everyone held their breath. To be honest, this was everyone’s ship, even if they didn’t know about Nico’s crush. 

“I thought you didn’t want me….” Will whispers.

“Of course I want you, Will. You’re all I ever wanted, ever since I was eleven.” Will looks like he is choking on tears.

“You too?” he says.

“What?”

“Three years ago. You wanted this for three years.”

“So?”

“I’ve loved you for five.” Nico let that sink in. Will liked him before Nico was even aware of his feelings. Not liked, loved. Ten-year-old Will Solace had a crush on Nico di Angelo. He fell in love with Nico when he was unstable and mourning his dead sister. He loved him even when he was a bigger mess than he is now. He loved him when they where just edging their way out of youth into the teenage life. 

“Why?” Nico finds himself asking. 

“Because. I knew there was a boy underneath all of those shadows. And I wanted him.” Nico reached over the table to hug Will, burying his face in his shoulder. Tears where cascading down his face, soaking Wil’s shirt. Will didn’t seem to mind. He let Nico cry as he petted his black hair. 

“Gods, I love you, Will,” Nico says.

“I do too,” Will says, smiling at Nico. The hall cheers, nearly scaring Will and Nico. Everyone has been waiting for this for so long, it’s a miracle it finally happened. Seeing Nico’s alert expression, Will took him away from the pavilion to the fire pit. 

“This was where I fell in love. I saw the firelight dancing over your skin and your eyes that held a ghost of the boy who was. A boy who would smile. I wanted to make you that boy again.” Nico collapsed on the ground.

“Nico, are you okay? Do I need to get a medic?”

“I’ve never been better,” Nico says, giving his first real smile in a while. It makes his eyes brighten in a way that makes Will smile even brighter and Nico is hit with the fact of how much he missed smiling like this. Goofily and joyfully in the face of those he loved. 

—-

:)

2

i see the the “draw pearl (with ears??) at 4am when you wanna draw but don’t know what to draw” door is still jammed wide open

anonymous asked:

msr 16 or 148?

Dear anon, I ended up using both! It also got long… I’ve been informed the “read more” doesn’t work on mobile so sorry for the insanely long post

16. “I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” 148. “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

The first time happens after Donnie Pfaster.

Scully tells Mulder to take her home, please, and without a word he leads her away from the scene, away from the horrors. In the car, he watches her carefully at every turn he makes. They arrive at the motel in silence and she knows this isn’t home, and she knows they won’t get to go home tonight, but she lets him take him inside his room.

“You can have the bed. I'll…” He never finishes his sentence; not that Scully is listening to him anyway. She curls on the bed, tries to make herself so small, so tiny that no one can ever find her here. She winces when the abrasion on her chin comes in contact with the oh so soft pillow. Her eyes close, but the tears find a way through, tainting the white pillowcase.

“Scully, I know you don’t want - how about you take a shower? Maybe I could have a doctor come here and-

“No. Not tonight, Mulder. I promise I’ll get checked out tomorrow. I promise. I’m fine.” She doesn’t lift her head, refuses to look at him; she is done with him pitying her. All she wants now, all she needs, is sleep.

“Shower?” His voice is closer now, but she can’t tell where he is; he is close, and she wants him to be close, as long as she doesn’t have to look directly at him. With her eyes closed, she can almost feel his arms around her still. His hands on her, just holding her to him, being there for her. But he wasn’t there before. Before. The water. In the bathtub.

“No shower.”

“All right.” His voice is a soft sound; so gentle that she is not sure she’s still awake. Silence fills the room and she listens to her own heartbeat, strong and certain; it’s everything she doesn’t feel right now. There’s another sound chiming in; Mulder. A soft rustling tells her that he’s trying to get comfortable somewhere around here. She is not going to ask him to join her in bed. Not this time. So she listens to his tiny noises creating a lullaby that rocks her gently into sleep.

The dream explodes in vivid colors, blinding her, gagging her.

“Breathe, Scully.”

The words reach her, somewhere, but she can’t get away. She’s running, she’s trying, but the hands are around her throat; they’re grabbing at her, closing in around her throat, choking her, and she can’t even scream.

“Just breathe.”

She takes a deep breath and the hands disappear. Her feet stop moving; no more running. Half-conscious, Scully realizes this is a dream. None of this is real. Not the hands around her throat, not the voice. Mulder, she thinks. Even in my dreams, he is right here by my side.

“That’s right, Scully. Just keep breathing.” The voice sounds so real that she almost wonders. Almost. She feels soft warm lips on her cheek, gently kissing her, and she breathes. She just breathes in and out. The lips descend again, on her lips this time, and now she knows this has to be a dream. It has to be.

“Just keep breathing. I’ll be here.”

When it happens again, Scully has already convinced herself that the first time was a dream. The days after the Donnie Pfaster case are hazy at best and the memory of him, of what happened or didn’t happen, in the motel room are pushed aside when Melissa is killed.

Scully wants to go home, just go home, and they won’t let her. Her apartment is still a crime scene. But she can’t face her mother, who pleads with her daughter to leave her alone, please Dana, and Mulder won’t let her go to a hotel. Alone. Without a word she sits in his car and when he gets in it, he stares at her. No words leave his mouth as his eyes plead with her loudly to please, please look at him. She doesn’t.

The car makes a clicking noise, sounds as tired as Scully feels. Any other day she might have told him to have it checked out. Not tonight. Tonight there is nothing to say. Mulder’s hand lands on the small of her back, some things refusing to ever be affected by tragedy, and leads her down the hall to his apartment. She slips through the door before him and settles herself on his couch. The leather, smelling of him, feels familiar and she closes her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath.

Mulder lingers between the rooms for a moment, decides to leave the lights off, and finally joins her on the couch.

“You should have let me go to a hotel,” Scully says and her voice sounds hollow, “There’s no space for two people here.”

“You take the couch,” Mulder gets up again, takes off his jacket, and sits at his desk, “I’m not tired.”

“Mulder, you’re still in recovery and-”

“No, Scully. I’m fine,” he almost spits the words out and she startles, “You take the couch, you sleep. I’ll be fine. I have a bedroom, you know.” She doesn’t know and in the dim light, she can’t tell if he’s lying. He probably is and maybe she should care. She just doesn’t.

Scully takes the neatly folded blanket from the back of the couch and wraps it around her. She turns away from Mulder, facing the wall, but feels him all around her. He’s in the leather, in the blanket and he’s keeping her safe; despite her not wanting him to. Scully closes her eyes tentatively; what is she going to see there in the darkness of her own thoughts? But it’s just blackness, so she leaves them shut and waits for sleep to take her.

When they were little girls Melissa taught her to even out her breathing so it seemed like she was asleep when she wasn’t. Back then it came in handy when their parents checked on them late at night. They’d pretend to be asleep and as soon as the air was clear, they could go back to whispering secrets or reading. As they grew older, Melissa stopped doing it. Instead, she would stare their parents straight in the eye, explaining that she was old enough to stay up. Little Dana was never brave enough.

And she isn’t brave enough today either.

She evens out her breath, tears falling silently, remembering a sister she will never see again. Mulder’s chair squeaks and then nothing; afraid he might have woken her up again, he waits. Scully wills herself to keep breathing deeply. It works. She feels Mulder move, and then he’s there. Leaning over her. She can do this, she reminds herself. If he knows that she’s only pretending, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he tightens the blanket around her. He still hovers over her, as if trying to decide on something. Then he leans down, kisses her temple, her nose and finally his lips graze hers. There’s a faint memory; how can she remember the feel of his mouth when he’s never kissed her before? Just as quickly, he is gone again. In the distance a door clicks.

There’s no way she can pretend this is just a dream.

They never talk about it, of course. Both have signed this unwritten agreement that prevents them from mentioning any of this. Lingering hugs are shoved aside just like almost kisses; just a spur of the moment thing. Nothing to see here, no, this never happened.  

Mulder visits her in the hospital after she points a gun on him, thinking he was in cohorts with the Cancerman. It’s long after visiting hours, but to Mulder that’s no reason to stay away. Scully wakes almost, expecting a nurse, but her eyes immediately close again when she sees him. He stands next to her and gently brushes a strand of stray hair away. Scully knows she should say something, stop this. But the truth is she craves his kiss; craves his touch on her. The moment stretches on and on and on. Scully feels sleep tug at her heavily and finally it wins out, captures her. She dreams of Mulder kissing her softly. In the morning she can’t recall if he ever did, or if he just made sure she was safe.

Scully slips in and out of sleep without control, without any agenda. Her body fights the aggressive invader and it is getting weaker, the illness taking the upper hand. She doesn’t expect Mulder to be in her room in the middle of the night. Crying. He’s crying and her heart, what is left of it, is breaking for him. With him. Scully wants to take his hand in hers and tell him it will be all right. There is no strength left in her and she falls asleep to the sound of his quiet, lonely sobs. She knows he kisses her; she feels it in her soul, feels how it kindles her flame. Even if only for a short moment.

Mulder kisses her cheek one night when she falls asleep on his couch after her vacation to Maine. Alone. Not a vacation either. She’s exhausted, but she’s missed Mulder (she doesn’t tell him that) and she so she lets him order take out. He tells her about possessed dolls and how he can find books about this phenomenon if she’s interested. All she’s interested in right now is being here with him, close to him. His words follow her into her dream for a while before it all gets quiet.

“I missed you.” Dream or reality. A kiss on the cheek. One day, she knows, this will have to end. Not tonight, though, as sleep carries her away again.

Mulder kisses her neck when they’re stuck sharing a bed in Kroner, Kansas. They’re posing as a married couple in Arcadia, California and Mulder sneaks into her bedroom, kissing her knuckles; caressing them one by one with his lips. By the time Christmas comes around, she thinks they might be ready. She thinks this might be it. They almost kill each other, so maybe not. Not quite yet.

It happens in New York.

She should be dead. People keep telling her that she should not be alive and she nods, staring into the other direction. The implications too heavy to face here, now. Mulder flies out to visit her (another reminder how close she’s gotten, once again) and hardly ever leaves her bedside.

“I’ll kick his ass if you want me to.” They’re sharing her jello, because Mulder looks like he hasn’t eaten (or slept) in days and Scully is beginning to get sick of it already.

“I can kick his ass myself, thank you.”

“Not right now you can’t. I’ll do it, Scully. Just say the word.”

He calls her mother for her, explains everything. When she wakes up he’s staring at her, his eyes heavy with worry, but also with love. She smiles back at him, silently thanking him for being there. For doing it all for her.

He makes his move the third night she’s there. The nurses are well acquainted with him now; they know they can tell him to leave, but he’ll be back as soon as they turn their backs on him. So they no longer try and just greet him, smile even. Mulder is, after all, quite charming if he wants to be. Scully, too, is used to him being there day and night. She tells him to get some sleep from time to time, just leave her alone for a while, but he is adamant about staying.

“You only get into trouble when I’m not around.”

It’s late when Scully feels tiredness wash over her. She yawns and Mulder looks up from the book he’s reading.

“Do you want me to turn off the lights?”

“No, I don’t mind. Good night, Mulder.”

“Good night, Scully.”

For a while, he reads. Scully hears him turn pages every once in a while. She’s tired, but she just can’t sleep. She’s never been a good patient, and all she wants is to go home and sleep in her own bed. Her thoughts distract her for a moment. The book is closed softly and something about this feels different than all the other times. Mulder appears beside her, his body radiating warmth, and when he leans down she can smell his scent. So much Mulder. He kisses her eyelids softly and then brushes her lips. She almost responds; almost opens her mouth to him. But before she can react at all, he is leaving again, and this time it’s not enough.

“Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”

She hears his sharp intake of breath. Scully sits up and bed and watches him, frozen to the spot at the end of her bed. His shoulders slump and he shoots her a lopsided grin that turns into a sad smile.

“You never let me take care of you when you’re awake.”

“You never asked.”

“Are you sure, Scully? All those times you threw your ‘I’m fine’ line at me. I know you don’t want me to see you as weak. Scully, I’ve never considered you weak. Not once. And I never will. You’re the strongest person I know. I just wish sometimes… that you’d let me be there for you. I never planned to kiss you like this. Wait, you knew about this?”

“I might have been awake once or twice.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Mulder sits down on her bed carefully. She takes her hand in his, feeling confident now.

“I didn’t want you to stop.” She admits, her eyes meeting his.

“So we could have been doing this for real?” His grin is back and now she’s wearing a matching one.

“There’s still time.”

“Scully, can I kiss you?”

“You never asked before.” She tells him, leaning forward slightly and taking the decision from him. She knows the feeling of his soft lips already; it’s nothing compared to the feel of his tongue sliding into her mouth, meeting hers for the first time.

If this is a dream, she doesn’t want to wake up ever again.

2

femslash february by @aliciavspinnet​ and @deanthomasfinnigan​, week one: fave pairing

“Be alone. Eat alone, take yourself on dates, sleep alone. In the midst of this you will learn about yourself. You will grow, you will figure out what inspires you, you will curate your own dreams, your own beliefs, your own stunning clarity, and when you do meet the person who makes your cells dance, you will be sure of it, because you are sure of yourself. Wait for it. Please, I urge you to wait for it, to fight for it, to make an effort for it if you have already found it, because it is the most beautiful thing your heart will experience.”  - Bianca Sparacino

Learn her favorite memory with her mother. Learn what she likes to do when she has no deadlines to meet and no obligations to anyone. Learn to love her siblings as your own—they have all the funny stories to share. Learn her routines, and when she needs to break them. Learn to read her emotions without asking her what she’s feeling. Learn if her dad waited on her hand-and-foot when she was younger because she’s his little girl. Learn what music to play and when. Learn all the things she doesn’t tell anyone else.
—  Learn her, love her, and never let her go.
during lunch break at work
  • me: *reading drarry fanfiction on my phone*
  • colleague: what's that you're reading all the time? is it a book?
  • me: *sweats*
  • me: uh... yeah. sort of.
  • colleague: oh, what's it about?
  • me: uh... magic. witches and wizzards. time travel. dragons. mysteries.
  • colleague: sort of like Harry Potter?
  • me: uh... yeah.
  • me: sort of.
2

#actual polar bear starting his modeling career

when I first began struggling
hurt tangled in my hair
I do not think about the
man trying to undo the knots
until he is hanging head
and lifeless limbs
noose
making a home
around the
sleeping pulse
of his
throat

or the woman
that tried to cut him out
 with scissors
while I struggle harder
against her help

when she can no longer
take the red
weeping out of her
fingers

she gives up;

alone has a way
of showing you
what you weren’t
seeing when you
we’re together

—  T.L.R

I really wasn’t doing ok so drew a tree yesterday. 

anonymous asked:

what do the 4 amigos do to get de-stressed from a week's worth of bullhonkey?

I need some de-stressing so bad right now…

Noctis: Oddly enough, he can’t sleep or fish when he is bone tired or too stressed, so he usually gets himself a warm glass of milk and a book and just reads until he starts nodding off.

Ignis: Long hot scented baths with a glass or red wine are his get-go when the stress gets too much followed by a 8 hour sleep session. If he can’t take a bath or is in a place that only has a shower he will take a walk and allow the sounds outside to calm his nerves.

Gladio: Massages work best on him when he feels that both stress and tiredness get to much and it does not matter if it’s the full course, like with relaxing oils and such or just Iris that rubs his shoulders. A good sparing session will work too if need be.

Prompto: Screamo, hard rock and/or metal music. The louder the better. This child relaxes by listening to extremely loud music, mostly because he can lose himself to the noise and it feels like he gets pulled apart and them back together by it. It’s also fun when he falls asleep and then jumps awake when a song reaches an extremely loud part.

daffodilxdarling  asked:

What makes you write?

I wrote a poem a few months ago (that I, in my perpetual state of hating my work, deleted) with a line that kind of talks about it and it’s still the best answer I have: 

“When people ask why I write like I do,
I never know what to say. The best thing
I’ve got is: My head is a very busy place.
The words need a safe place to sleep
because my mouth cannot harbor
anymore refugees.”

You don’t know about all the poetry I write for you, yet a part of me just wished you knew.
That way you’d know how I truly react when you don’t call me back,
you’d know how much I think about the things I lack.
You’d know how crazy I am for you,
how much you take of my time,
that I write about you because you’re always on my mind.
Yet I will not say a word about this blog to you,
I will not share one quote or phrase,
for you will know my quiet side,
you’ll see my sensitive and sadder side,
I don’t want you to see my doubts of you,
because I just know
that you don’t love me too.
—  a.a.
I’m fucking tired, okay? I’m tired of being told what to do and when to do it. I’m tired of other people thinking that they know what’s best for me when they don’t know shit. I’m tired of being lied to and I’m tired of only being your friend when you need something. So when I say I’m tired, it doesn’t mean I didn’t get enough sleep. It means that I can’t handle being used and abused anymore. Stop telling me to take a goddamn nap because I may not choose to wake up.
—  S.E, excerpt from a book I’ll never write

I mean, on the plus side, had quite a good night out. But on the other hand, still haven’t slept because I’m so worried about this training today (in 3.5 hours…) and at this point I’m scared to because my worry over sleeping through my alarm nowadays is bordering on obsessive, and I’m also worried I’m going to be too tired today to work on my coursework properly.

I wish....

I really wish for once in my life that I was normal.

A normal life.
A normal personality.
A normal height.
A normal weight.

I hate being bullied.
I hate being told I’m never good enough.
I hate being a second choice at best.
I hate that because I’m still a virgin at 20 that guys think it’ll be easy to get me to sleep with them.
I hate being told that no one will ever love me.

I just wish that I was different.

Sometimes I stay up at night and I wonder how the relationship between Kreia and Revan worked when it came to them being master and apprentice, living together, training together, learning together, sharing stuff and doing things together; because from what I see Kraia is this salty old grandmother that probably monitors your breathing patterns while you sleep while Revan seems to be master dork extraordinaire who probably wears mismatching socks during jedi council sessions just to spite the old people. 

Did they ever argue about each other’s definition of keeping the apartment clean? Like Revan never finding anything in Kreia’s “minimalist crypt decor” and Kreia constantly fighting down headaches upon seeing Revan’s “organized chaos”?

Did Revan ever sneak out of the temple in the middle of the night and Kreia had to go find and drag them back by the scuff of their tunic not because they got out but because they could have at least had the decency to NOT frolic around the garbage disposal in search of spare droid parts?

What did they do in their off time? Did they spend time together arguing about who got to pick what they were going to watch on the holovid that evening? Did Revan ever have to plea with Kreia to go out and eat “decent food” at some cheap cantina in town with Kreia ending up as the one who enjoyed the food the most?

Did Kreia ever had to bail Revan out of prison because they accidentally started a workers’ riot in the main sector? Did Revan ever had to bail Kreia out of jail because she started to heavily critique the republic senators on their new bill WHILE IN SESSION?

Did they ever get in fights? How did they go about apologizing to each other? Did Revan ever go around to put on a sock puppet shows for Kreia to say they were sorry which ended with Kreia unbelieving she ended up having a conversation with a piece of cotton?

Was Kreia putting up with Revan’s eccentricities because she couldn’t stop her padawan or was she actually subtly encouraging them, because she sometimes watches Revan and sees herself if she only had someone to be there for her when she took the risks to be herself?

There are so many possibilities why are we not talking about this?