I'm sad you finished the Bokuroo week, you draw them so rarely now and I just miss my boys so much
anon please don’t try to guilt trip me into drawing more bokuro that’s kinda very rude I realize no one really reads tags so I’m gonna just say it here again - as I mentioned before, this period is really damn busy for me because for whatever reason all my fandoms and ships have decided to hold their ship weeks all together in the span of 20 days and I’m a sucker for this kind of events which means I wanna participate in everything and end up being unable to put actual effort in everything else for a while
THAT SAID how productive I am with a specific ship depends a lot on how much they’re appearing in the main story (currently in the bokuros’ case it’s a very pretty round zero), how responsive/respectful the fandom is when I do post about them (the bokuro fandom is amazing!!! Everyone around it that still keeps on trying to make it about other ships and turn my art into something it’s not supposed to be, not so much) and how much content for said ship I can consume through the fandom/how easily accessible it is (there’s very little content for bokuro in general and try and look for stuff in the tags it’s all about other ships/ot3s or ot4s/unrequited or past-relationship/tagged-but-only-as-brotp)
I really, really, really love that ship a whole damn lot still, trust me, but when I have so little inspiration coming from anything that could give it to me and at the same time I got other ships making me super creative, I’m naturally bound to produce less for it. I’m not abandoning it, I’m just asking you to be patient when my creativity doesn’t happen to be focused on them for a while
the boy I loved for a week had eyes that were blue like NyQuil. the boy I loved for a week left me broken. the boy I loved for a week put his hands on me and even now, years later, the bruises on my body are still shaped like his fists. the boy I loved for a week doesn’t live here anymore but I still see his face in every empty parking lot, every dark alley at midnight. the boy I loved for a week did not deserve my love. I did not love the boy I loved for a week but I spent three years unmaking myself because of him. goodbye, my cough syrup ghost, my fever-dream shadow: my brain is a forest and I am setting it on fire, so that maybe next year I will grow instead of shrink.
In 10th grade, my school agreed on passing an electronics policy, which meant that students weren’t allowed to have their cellphones or iPods out from 8:00 am to 3:00 pm. At all. If they caught you, a security guard would confiscate your phone for a week! Since it was the first year they were putting this rule into practice, the staff was cracking down hard and they were overjoyed because they had the authority to take away our cellphones. We fucking hated it.
That same year I started going to bed late. One night I was doing homework and watching movies until 2 am. I had ordered a large pizza from Domino’s to help me make it through the night.
The next morning, I drank a big cup of chocolate milk and ate the rest of the pizza before going to school. My stomach was making embarrassingly loud noises all morning; I would push it down to make it stop, but it would only get louder. By lunch I felt terrible. I was hanging out with my friends when I knew… I had to take a shit.
I hated using public bathrooms in school because everyone would see you walk in or they could see you through those fucking cracks that are there for what? Ventilation? I like my privacy in the bathroom. It’s like a Buddhist sanctuary for me.
I went on the hunt for a bathroom that was not infested with people. I don’t understand that by the way; when did bathrooms become a hangout spot? It’s fucking impolite. I don’t want people to hear me shit or piss, unless they are doing the same.
Finally, I found a bathroom by the teacher’s parking lot that was empty. I rushed into the stall and it turned out that the lock didn’t work. However, it was the point of no return, and I didn’t have the time to fix that lock or I would shit my pants. So, I pushed my backpack on the door to keep it shut and began doing my business.
Literally 15 seconds later, a security guard busted the door open and screamed, ‘GIVE ME YO CELLPHONE!!’ and I pulled my pants up and yelled back, 'I’M TAKING A SHIT!’ His face went white as he closed the door and apologized.
During senior confessions in 2009, I told this story in front of my class of over 500 students. I wasn’t very popular, but after that day I was known as the pizza and chocolate milk guy.
“It began long ago in a land far away to the east, the like of which you will not find in the world today. There was the city of Dale, its markets known far and wide, full of the bounties of vine and vale, peaceful and prosperous."