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blushingbaka · 4 years

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love like summer rain;

✰ part eight ✰ read part seven here ✰ masterlist ✰

|| summary - bokuto was never your first pick as a co-counselor, but eight weeks is plenty of time to change your mind

pairing: bokuto x fem!reader genre: fluffy camp counselor au, slow burn, mutual pining warning: just a small mention of alcohol length: 2k

✰ a/n: ahhh i can’t believe this is the end of the series !! this definitely just started as me wanting to relive some of my old camp memories, and bokuto just happened to fit the au perfectly ! thank you to all of you that have kept up with it this far, and i hope you can find satisfaction with this ending ! enjoy <3

⋆week eight⋆

The ending ceremony for the campers was always a bittersweet one, their eyes becoming watery and their tiny hands gripping your t-shirt as they told you one last goodbye. You were normally able to hold in your own emotions, but you felt particularly attached to this group of campers since they would be your last. As you all piled in for a final group hug at Bokuto’s request, you found your lip quivering and a few tears escaped, trailing down your cheeks. Pulling out of the hug, you quickly wiped the traces of them away, putting on a broad smile. There was suddenly a feeling of a hand on your back, and you looked to the side to see Bokuto giving you a comforting smile. That’s right. You still had him. You exhaled deeply, your sadness slowly melting away.

The camp seemed eerily quiet as you packed up your things, so you were relieved when it finally came time for the counselors’ final bonfire. You would all be leaving tomorrow, but at least you had one last night together to laugh and reminisce about your experiences. The atmosphere was comforting with sounds of animated conversation and lighthearted laughter filling the space with warmth to rival that of the flames. Bokuto was preoccupied orchestrating a duet between Akaashi and the other musically talented counselor Semi, so you settled in an open spot watching the ordeal with amusement. Kuroo soon joined you, two cups in his hands. He handed one to you, and you sloshed the liquid inside around, eyeing it suspiciously.

“Who supplied the contraband?” you peered up at him knowingly.

“I’m not at liberty to say” he smirked, claiming the spot next to you. “Cheers,” he said simply, extending his cup out to you, and you tapped yours gently against his echoing the word. The alcohol burned as it slid down your throat, causing you to slightly purse your lips.

“Consider it some liquid courage” Kuroo added smirking.

“For what?” you huffed out an incredulous laugh taking another sip of your drink.

“For when you confess to Bokuto” his words caused you to abruptly spit your drink out, your coughing and spluttering only deepening his smirk. After regaining your composure, your lips already began to form words of protest.

“Y/N you are not taking this skinny love shit back to the city with us. Do you know how exhausting it’s been seeing you two pine after each other all summer?” he bemoaned throwing his head back.

“Shut up” you lightly shoved his shoulder, rolling your eyes. “You’re exaggerating. Bokuto just treats me like he does everyone else. It’s just who he is” you sighed wistfully into your cup.

“Ah, the youth of today are so clueless” Kuroo wearily exhaled, earning him another eye roll from you. You had plenty of evidence concerning Kuroo’s immaturity, and you were about to offer your retort when Bokuto appeared in front of you. There were two cups in his hands, and he was eyeing the one in yours with a pout.

“Hey Bokuto!” You greeted him warmly already scooting over to make him more room. “You can sit here if you want” you patted the other empty spot next to you, causing the smile to return to his face. He carefully plopped down beside you, looking unsure what to do with the second drink. Peering over the rim of the cup, it only appeared to be lemonade.

“Can I have one of those?” You softly inquired, causing him to whip his head around to meet your eyes. His eyes automatically flitted down to the cup in your hand, which obviously hadn’t been finished. “I wasn’t a big fan of this one” you quickly explained before he can ask, emphasizing your point by placing it on the ground beside you.

Eyebrows shooting up, he vigorously nodded and extended the cup out to you. You took it with a shy smile, your hand lingering on his. You chose to ignore Kuroo’s gruff huff beside you as he poured your remaining drink into his cup and grumpily mumbled something about wasting good alcohol. You were intoxicated enough with Bokuto’s presence, your jaws slightly aching by how much you were smiling with him by your side.

He remained by your side until the early hours of the morning, but instead of sitting in front of a bonfire, you two found yourselves laying on the hill behind your cabins, gazing up at the stars. It was another one of your selfish attempts to slow time, and Bokuto had joined you like it wasn’t even a question. It was hard to focus on the stars, however, with him by your side, and you kept stealing glances of his side profile. With his hands resting behind his head and a soft smile gracing his face, he looked like he was in a state of tranquility.

“Sure you’re not sleepy?” you asked tentatively. Truthfully you had expected his eyelids to start drooping any moment, but when he turned on his side to look at you, you found no trace of sleepiness in them. His cheek now rested in his palm, his eyes steadily focused on you, and he softly shook his head.

“You’re not tired, are you? I thought we might make it to sunrise” there’s a childlike excitement gleaming in his eyes at the prospect and you couldn’t help but chuckle, turning your body so that you were now facing him too.

“I might can manage that” you drawled, your fingertip absentmindedly tracing circles in the space between you. You were gifted with Bokuto’s toothy grin and you felt a coil of nervous excitement furling up tighter in the pit of your stomach. Bokuto’s eyes flitted back up to the night sky, fondness painting his features.

“The stars are really bright here, huh?” he said, a hint of awe in his voice. They are but you thought he was brighter.

“Oh! You really think so?” Your eyes widened at his words realizing you must have voiced your thoughts aloud. His face was leaned closer to yours now, your words capturing his rapt attention.

“I- I just meant that you’re very distracting” you fumbled for the words to save yourself. “People are naturally drawn to you, making it hard to focus on anything else” your eyes are purposefully focused on the ground and you can feel your cheeks becoming unbearably hot.

“So what I’m hearing…” Bokuto began coyly. “Is that you only have eyes for me?” Hearing those bold words, your eyes darted quickly back up to his to gauge how serious he was being. His lips were curled up in a teasing manner, but his eyes are purposefully searching your face, and they looked almost nervous to see your reaction. You felt the sting of your nails biting into your palm as you tried to summon your nerves. You were tired of always reading into his every little action trying to guess if he actually had feelings for you. Pushing those doubts to the back of your mind, you swiftly leaned forward, closing the distance between you and Bokuto as you pressed your lips to his.

You could feel Bokuto gasp, and you slightly pulled back scared you made the wrong decision, but Bokuto’s hand was almost immediately on the back of your neck pulling you back into the kiss. At first, the push of his lips against yours was forceful, like pent up emotions were finally being spilled out, but then the kiss became slower, more gentle, and you found yourself smiling.

Bokuto’s hand remained on the nape of your neck when you pulled back, and he pressed his forehead to yours, your noses slightly brushing against each other. You were both breathing heavily, your hot breath mingling in the small space between you.

“You’re right” you whispered still not opening your eyes. “You’re the only thing I can seem to see or think about, and it’s frustrating” you breathily chuckled. Bokuto’s hand moved to cup your cheek, causing you to open your eyes and you were met with his soft golden gaze.

“Why does it have to be frustrating?” He slightly pouted. “I feel the same way about you, so I like all the time we spend together” he admitted brazenly.

“It was frustrating because I didn’t know you felt the same way! I thought that you might just think of me as a friend.” You muttered the last part, averting your eyes. Bokuto tilted his head cutely to the side, trying to capture your eyes again.

“Well I’ve wanted to be more than your friend for a while now,” he spoke more shyly now, pink dusting his cheeks. “I’ve always liked hanging out with you and I've always thought your laugh is cute, and well….” he trailed off like he was ashamed of what he was going to say next. “Kuroo might have recommended to the head staff that they pair us together as co-counselors.” Your mouth fell open at his confession and you felt truly dumbfounded.

“Bo…” you start but you’re unable to get another word out before Bokuto pulled you tightly into his chest, his form collapsing back onto the ground.

“Please don’t be mad Y/N. I really just wanted to spend more time with you honestly, and it all worked out fine, didn’t it? Please tell me you still like me” Bokuto rambled nervously, still hugging you tightly, and despite your shock, you still found yourself laughing. Apparently taking that as a good sign, his grip loosened, and you pushed yourself slightly off his chest to look up at his face.

“It’s fine Bo” you assured him, although you would definitely be having a talk with a self-proclaimed cupid later. He still eyed you nervously, so for emphasis you leaned forward, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips. Letting out a noise of contentment he chased your lips, eager for another. After you were both satisfied, you laid your head on his chest, comfortably resting by his side with his arm draped around your shoulder. You gleefully listened as Bokuto rambled on about all the dates he was going to take on, and with Bokuto steadily rubbing circles into your shoulder, you felt yourself drifting off to sleep.

Your slumber was interrupted by light flooding your senses, and when you finally became aware of your surroundings you were elated to see Bokuto still had his arm firmly wrapped around you and that you hadn’t missed the entirety of the sunrise. You sat up, taking a moment to appreciate the sight of Bokuto’s sleeping form, soft snores falling from his lips. The sun’s golden rays hadn’t quite stretched past the line of the treetops, leaving him basked in a soft rose color. You gently shook him awake, wanting to experience this moment with him. He slowly came to, arms reaching out for your form before his eyes were even open.

“Y/N” he mumbled, and you touched his cheek, coaxing him to open his eyes. A lazy smile overtook his face as he leaned into your touch.

“Come on. You wanted to see the sunrise didn’t you?” you chuckled as his eyes popped open and searched the sky. He grunted softly as he sat up, arm already returning to your waist. You both focused your eyes upward, enjoying your last morning at camp. With the sun just barely peeking out, you couldn’t help but compare this sky to the one that appears after late summer rain. You blissfully sigh, leaning into Bokuto, and you’re pleasantly surprised to feel him press a kiss to your temple. With this small action, you felt as if your insides were painted like the sky in front of you. It was like warm golden rays were licking at your insides, leaving a peachy afterglow in their wake. Looked at Bokuto’s brilliant smiling face, you supposed that was just another effect of summer rain.

#bokuto x reader #bokuto fluff #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou #haikyuu bokuto #slow burn #mutual pining #Bokuto Koutarou x reader #haikyuu reader insert #bokuto series #bokuto imagine #camp counselor au #haikyuu fanfiction #love like summer rain series

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98prilla · 4 years

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To The Dead

AO3

TW talk of death, injuries, violence, blood, emotional manipulation

...

It was Roman, who had the next encounter with the newest ghost. He was drawing in the living room, when he heard a soft noise, a soft whoosh, the sound that usually accompanied one of them entering the space. He didn’t think anything of it, assuming it was just Logan, who tended to be quiet, or Remus, trying to sneak up on and startle him.

After a moment of no other noise, he turned around, brow creasing as he saw no one there. He shrugged and went back to his drawing, only stopping when he heard another small sound, and he froze, catching a flicker of shadow out of the corner of his eye, from behind the couch.

“Virgil?” He asked softly, careful not to turn his head, not to look directly at his hiding place, the shadows sparking slightly faster at his words. ��Hey, hey, it’s ok. I’ll stop talking to you, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The shadows started to calm, and he could see his outline slowly stabilizing. He went back to drawing, letting the silence linger, letting them both settle, before he grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and slid it backwards, under the couch to the edge of the wall. “I know you like to draw. I always loved watching you. You made amazing things, Virgil.” He said gently, kindly, trying to convey all the warmth and empathy he felt for him in those simple words, wishing he could reach out to him. But that would only make him run.

Instead he turned his attention back to his own drawing, those his ears were attuned to behind the couch, smiling slightly as he heard the tell tale scratch of pen against paper.

It was hours later, when he felt something hit his leg. He looked down, seeing the pen and paper, hearing whoosh of Virgil vanishing as he picked up the ink drawing, if he had any breath, it would have been taken away. It was a portrait, of himself, his face drawn and serious, his cavalry sabre drawn and pointed skyward, eyes reflected in its sheen. He pressed it to his chest, smile tugging at his lips. Quickly, he scribbled a small thank you, and tucked it back behind the couch. Hopefully, Virgil would find it there, the next time he popped in. The drawing now hung front and center above the desk in his room.

Their astral space had shifted to accommodate a new ghost, of course. They did all still like a little privacy, a quiet space to call their own, to decorate with items summoned from memory, or copies of things that resided in the actual physical space of the house that they’d interacted with or seen, and their abode reflected that, creating rooms for each of them. A sixth now lined the hallway.

The change was slow, at first, but by the next week, it was plain to see. The door was darkening, changing, a deep violet color creeping up the previously plain paint. It could only mean one thing, and that was that Virgil was actually using it, spending time in there, the space being influenced by his presence.

But he still hadn’t come out. He refused to respond to them, no matter who it was at the door. Janus’s gentle words, Patton’s soft kindness, Roman’s stubborn talkativeness, Logan’s calm tone, did nothing to coax him out of the room. Sometimes, they heard him moving inside, heard him sniffling or crying, and it broke Patton’s heart.

Virgil had been so young, just twenty, he’d had his whole life ahead of him, and one person had made him so sure he was an utter waste that he was convinced he’d done the best thing by dying. All he wanted was to hold Virgil in his arms, comfort the poor boy, his paternal instincts were kicked into overdrive and it was driving everyone, including himself, mad. It certainly didn’t help the tense worry that had settled over their odd little household.

Virgil was curled in the corner of what he supposed was ‘his room’, now. It was dark, deep shadows cloaking every corner of the space, walls a deep violet that was nearly black, ceiling unviewable through the cloudy smog that hovered up there constantly. A bed had formed against one wall, and he was wrapped in the thick purple black plaid comforter.

Janus was right. It was easier to hold his form in this space, the astral plain, he’d called it. Whenever he did slip back to the physical plain, he turned into a pulsing orb of darkness, which was weird, and definitely would take some getting used to. It didn’t feel… bad. Just different. It was like his mind and thoughts and consciousness were all that he was, like he could see 360 degrees, everything around him all at once, but it wasn’t disorienting or overwhelming, like he would’ve thought. It was like his mind was in overdrive, processing everything, and he couldn’t focus on forming his limbs, making himself any kind of presentable. Not that he cared. Was easier to hide, keep out of the way, as a blob of shadow, anyways.

It was quiet outside his door right now. They must have given up, for the moment. Hopefully for good. He wished they’d just stop trying. He didn’t deserve their care and attention, he wished they’d stop wasting their time and effort on him.

His body was gone. He didn’t know by who or how it had been found. He’d probably been missing long enough He had called the police, or come looking, he hadn’t cared to check. He’d heard the disturbance, felt it, but he ignored it. It didn’t matter. They could throw his body in the dump for all he cared, it wasn’t like it meant anything, anymore.

Not like anyone would come to his funeral, anyway. His family was all dead. He didn’t have a job. When he was in school he’d worked a few part time ones, but his anxiety kept getting him let go. And when he was with Him, he wouldn’t let him get one. Didn’t want him screwing up and having it all come back on Him. Of course, He’d also always complained about how little he contributed to their relationship, then got angry when he brought up the job thing, so he’d just stopped mentioning it, after a while.

Just another proof of his cowardess.

“Watcha doin?” He hissed, jumping five inches in the air, form wavering for a moment at the spike in fear, nearly slipping back to the physical plain from the startle. After a moment, he stabilized, glaring up at the ghost hovering upside down in the air, walking along the foggy clouds of the ceiling, green eyes aglow.

“Which one are you?” He asked, and the ghost tsked.

“Nuh uh, I asked you a question first, my miasmic musketeer.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, tugging on the ends.

“Question for a question? Fine. But I reserve the right to pass on anything.”

“Fine, but if you pass, I get a free pass on whatever question I want. Now spill it! Watcha doin? Cause it looks a loooot like moping.” He spluttered at that, scowling.

“I’m not moping. I’m just… thinking. Now, who are you? I haven’t heard your voice through the door.”

“Remus is what I go by. Don’t remember why I chose it. Probably just liked the sound.” Remus shrugged, slowly cartwheeling through the air. “Why haven’t you opened the door?”

“Pass.” Virgil choked out, shadows sparking off his edges.

“Boo, already? You’re no fun.” Remus pouted.

“How’d you get in here? I thought no one could get in.” Remus shrugged.

“They can’t. I can go wherever I want. And I wanted to see what you’d done with the place, so I came in.”

“Wait, why can you-”

“Uh, uh, uh, not your turn!” Remus sing songed, and Virgil groaned, sinking further into his blanket. “Now, why won’t you go meet the rest of them?” Virgil’s eyes flickered, voice echoing as he answered.

“Pass. Why can you get in here and they can’t?”

“They’re ghosts. I’m a poltergeist.” Virgil’s brow furrowed, and he opened his mouth to ask a question, surprised as with a flick of Remus’s wrist, his jaw clicked shut, stuck that way.

“You are terrible at following the rules. Logan would like you, all those curious questions rattling around. He knows all about ghosts and poltergeists, if you’d talk to him, he could answer all your questions. Wouldn’t even make it a game. So. Why won’t you talk to him?” Virgil glowered for a moment, before Remus grinned, teeth sharp and eyes swirling, as he flicked his wrist once more, unclenching Virgil’s jaw.

“Don’t do that again.” He growled, Remus’s smile growing. “and what do you care, whether I speak to them or not?” He asked, barely containing the whispering chorus behind his words.

“I don’t, really. But it’s no fun playing by myself, and they’re all too torn up about you to pay any attention to me. I’ve made the walls bleed, ooze sticky black ichor, tentacles come out of the toilet bowl, flies hatch out of the floors, and nothing! Not a single scream, or scolding, or lecture, or anything! Do you know how frustrating that is? These things take time, people, is too much to ask for a little acknowledgement?!” Remus bemoaned, landing on the floor, angry scowl on his face. “And it’s all because you won’t stop sulking.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t feel up to socializing at their pity party for me, I don’t want their attention, and the sooner they get that and give up, the sooner everything can go back to normal for you!” They both paused as they heard a noise outside the door, likely Logan, based on the quiet hum of thought and sound of page turning. Virgil yelped as Remus’s eyes glowed, and he found his body moving without his permission.

“What are you doing?” he hissed, feeling like a clumsy marionette.

“If you won’t open the door, then I’m opening it for you.” He sucked in a breath as he took a stumbling step forwards, fighting the control.

“Remus. Stop.” He gritted out, feeling dizzy.

“Ummmm, let me think about it. No. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless you give me a good reason why.” He growled, trying to spin back around to face Remus, only succeeding in forcing himself to a standstill, his anger countering Remus’s power, his shadows finally exploding outward in rage after a long moment of silent battle as he rounded on Remus, sparks flying off him, his form growing and shifting, becoming a void of light as he glared, bared his teeth, growls and hisses and distant distorted screams echoing from deep in the growing shadows.

“I don’t need a good reason. I don’t need to justify myself to you. I don’t need to justify myself to them. I don’t need their pity. I don’t need their care. I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it. So if you could tell them all to shut up and leave me alone, that would be great!” Virgil screamed, a thousand voices bouncing off the walls, the noise overwhelming, deafening, the growls turning to roars.

Not much could overwhelm Remus. Not much had the power to. But the darkness that swept him up, consumed him in twisting, fracturing nothingness, the endless noise so loud it was silent, the empty, swirling void of dread that filled his stomach, clouded his mind, sunk into his soul, scared him, and with the force of a hurricane, he let the dark tide carry him, spit him out, hearing a yelp from Logan as the door slammed open, the tide smashing Remus against the wall before retreating, retracting, vanishing back underneath Virgil’s skin, his form solid despite the fear and anguish rolling off him, strong enough it made Remus shudder and Logan recoil.

“what’s wrong, Remus? Am I scaring you?” Virgil asked, voice a duet of deep bass and high keening, darkness swirling just below his paper pale skin, his eyes dark voids of emptiness, head tilted to the side, a dark smile on his lips as he stepped forwards, tilting Remus’s chin up from where he had slumped against the wall. “Can’t take what you dish out?” Remus shuddered again at the wash of desperate fear that clouded his mind, transferred from Virgil to him.

It set his mind aflame. It burned him up from the inside out, images and thoughts flashing through his mind so fast he could barely keep up with them. Fears, he realized. His fears. Roman, bayonet through his stomach, gurgling on his own blood as he slowly drowned on dry land. Janus, hands wrapped around his throat, crushing it, breaking it, until his airway collapsed and his eyes closed, lips turned blue. Logan, neck bent at an unnatural angle, eyes open and glassy, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of his mouth, body twisted and bruised and bleeding. Patton, his spirit slowly breaking, his heart cracked in two as his life faded into grays, colors draining out of his life, phantom laughter of a little girl echoing in the emptiness, cold emptiness beside him in a too large bed, until it devoured him completely and he took the pills, gave in to the darkness, clutching a family photo to his chest.

“please. Virgil, stop. Please.” His voice was hoarse. He wasn’t sure if he’d been screaming or not, but it certainly felt like he had, gasping as Virgil’s hand drew back as if burned, tears tracking down Virgil’s face, mouth opening and closing several times, before he staggered backwards, clutching at his own head, shaking it vehemently.

“you wanted to know why I wouldn’t open the door.” Virgil choked out, shaking as his eyes returned to their normal dark violet, arms wrapping around himself as the roaring, raging shadows vanished back to the corners of his room. He felt about two seconds away from collapsing, dizzy and weak, trembling from the tips of his toes to the top of his head. “well, now you know. I’m just… just a monster. Just… just stay away. It’s safer for everyone. Just leave me alone.” He near begged, feeling sick, at what he’d just done, what he’d made Remus see, what he’d seen from Remus, it was stuck on repeat in his mind, stuck on a loop, and his not necessary breathing hitched in response to the panic creeping up his spine. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, slamming the door closed, collapsing onto his bed, weakly managing to summon the comforter to him from where it had been discarded on the floor, curling into a tight ball underneath it, too numb and drained and dizzy to do anything else.

Silent tears slipped down his face as he closed his eyes, dread haunting his every moment as the shadows of the room descended upon him, wrapping him in their cold embrace, purposefully drawing them to him so they wouldn’t slip under the door and go torment the others. He wouldn’t let them do that. They didn’t deserve to deal with his bullshit, if he was going to be the monster, the villain, the bad guy, he was going to be his own worst enemy. He was not going to hurt the others, not even Remus, not ever again.

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side-effect-of-the-meds · 4 years

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Hiatus Update

and the continued pained ramblings of the increasingly emotionally unstable Bananna

I know it’s been a while since I’ve posted in earnest and I while I’m sorry, that’s probably not going to change. Not that it matters in the grand scheme of things, but I’m sad and tired and need a place to rant so I’ll do it on here bc to tell someone personally makes them feel obligated to offer comfort and advice. I don’t think that’s fair bc we both know that your words of comfort are sweet but I’d feel as though you said them because you felt you had to and not because you meant them. Not only that but I’d probably ignore your advice and return in a month bemoaning the same problem and, honestly, you don’t have time for that.

Regardless, the reason for my sudden hiatus is because I spend about an hour and a half to two hours a day writing. That’s two hours with which I could be studying or working on scholarships. And I know it’s ridiculous to think that I should devote all my time to doing those things but my family is incredibly annoyed by this because, in recent years, I’ve been struggling to hold my attention span. I can’t study. I can’t read. I can’t even sit still long enough to watch a movie. I thought maybe I had ADD or ADHD but I think I’m just looking for justification. People really struggle with those things and I’m just here looking for an excuse.

Because of that, my parents are always passive-aggressively shitting on my work. They say it’s because they never get to read any of it but as a closeted bi girl, the few pieces they’ve seen have sparked vehement disapproval and I’m afraid that showing them anything more would expose me.

I’m constantly in trouble at home bc of grades and scholarships. That being said, i’m an all a honor role student. Even that isn’t enough for them. Now that I’ve set this precedent of being good at school work, I receive no validation and am prone to panic and anxiety attacks when I don’t do well. Recently, i went from a 96 in calculus to an 87 and it scared the life out of me bc the teacher wasn’t there to teach the concept that week and I wasn’t doing as well as I usually did. My friend berated me for complaing bc that was more than she could ever accomplish and I was so mad bc that’s a 10 pt drop in my grade average. As someone who’s family raised them to believe that my smarts were my only redeeming quality I just couldn’t take it.

On top of that, my grades tend to be lower a’s (buoyed up by the fact that I take all AP classes which adds to my GPA). Everytime my mom drives me past my school she talks about how much better I’d do if I tried. And I’ve told her that I do. I really do. With what little attention span I have, i study and I work as hard as I can and this is it. This is the best I can do. And then she just looks so tired and disappointed and tells me about all my wasted potential THAT I LITERALLY DON’T FUCKING HAVE. I really wish it was just her. My teachers tell me I could do so much more. I can’t. I really really fucking can not. This is it. This is peak performance. Sorry to disappoint you person #12812 but you’re quite obviously not the first nor will you be the last

As for scholarships, they tend to be need-based. My family is too rich to qualify but too poor to send me. The ones that aren’t have certain criteria and no matter how hard I work, I’m just never good enough. Not for the scholarship, not for my friends, not for my family, not for anyone. Except y’all.

I feel so under-appreciated for a lot of things. When I do well on a test everyone just says, of course you did you’re smart. FUCK YOU I WORKED MY ASS OF TO MAKE THAT 91 Sure maybe you studied too and didnt do as well but you also go out and have a social life. I live on my computer. I can’t even drive. Sure, i could express my feelings to my friends and I know they’d validate me but it always feels like an over-exaggeration to overcompensate for the love I don’t get at home or the appreciation i don’t get from others. I volunteer for an organization that works with the special ed department in our school. Essentially, I just go and hang out with the kids and I love it so much. What I don’t love is when I do completely normal things for the kids and the teachers and the adults immediately respond with how sweet I am. I am not sweet. I’m literally the meanest person I know. My family tells me so all the time and after evaluating my interactions with a lot of other ppl, i’m inclinded to believe them.

Regardless, y writing on here and Ao3 are the only source of validation I receive without asking for. They feel genuine and they’re the only thing I think means anything. It isn’t a judge of anything other than my own hard work and devotion. The things I write aren’t that good, trust me I’m fully aware, but to see the 11 notes I get on my fem!andreil means more to me than anything in the world. I love them so much and I love y’all for supporting them.

Recently an anon sent me a message about how much they love my fem!andreil and, if you’re reading this, thank you so much. You’re ask now lives in my inbox permanently as the only proof that anything I’ve ever done matters. I’m currently working on a valentines day prompt but with the way things are going it won’t be out until valentine’s day is long gone and once more I’m sorry.

This blog is the only thing left that I love and the fact that I can’t even keep up with it is the most painful thing in my life. I really do love to write. I’ll never be any good at it but it’s all I have left. I’m not asking for your pity but rather your understanding. Thank you to anyone who’s ever supported my fem!andreil in any way, shape, or form. I owe you my life. Again, original content won’t go up often because I’m incapable of balancing people’s expecatations with the things I care about but I’m trying, I swear.

#the opposite of a pipe dream #a living nightmare???#maybe #bananna speaks #rant #long post #musings of a sad bananna

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