#dakosplayground

( @dakosplayground ):

“You and me are gonna get along great.”

      ↪ “i think so too!” DOTTIE let out a ROAR of a laugh. it hadn’t been long since she’d been ‘SPRUNG’ from the hospital, but she’d already started to give up hope that she’d ever meet anyone who got her. she kinda felt like she’d never get to be a PERSON again. but here she was, standing in front of a TALKING MOHAWK and l a u g h i ng. she never thought she’d do that again, either.

     sure, of all the ones for the group of misfits to send over to talk to her, he seemed like an odd choice, but the proof was in the pudding. he was STRANGE just like her and she liked that. in fact, they all seemed to be oddballs like DOTTIE.

     WAIT.

     ...what was he trying to do? if there were two things her FATHER taught her, it was to block with your non-dominant hand so your fist was free... and to trust NO ONE. it seemed a little too convenient that this guy suddenly wanted to be her friend.

* soft family things

@dakosplayground​ : ‘ dad, can we go home now? ’ (wheels to mg 🥺)

     for a moment, you just watch him. pride fills your chest: it’s always been there, ever-present, but right now it feels fit to burst as you consider your son before you; you always knew he was perfect-- a real miracle, even-- but after seeing him work with the other kids, seeing him take initiative, make plans, fight ( boy, could he fight! )-- the adoration you feel for him emanates off you in waves.

For a time she had gotten to know loneliness, like one would a friend -- though an unkind one, certainly. If she were to be honest about it, Lady still felt the very same, distant from the people she’d grown up with, and the people she’d loved. It drew her to places like these, bars with friendly faces who offered a smooth drink and an ear to talk to; she’d return home late at night, mirroring a similar state to the one she’d arrived in -- but at least for a few hours, she could toy with the notion that she wasn’t there by herself.

Now, princess was a nickname she hadn’t heard in a very long time, nearly catching her off-guard as she pulled herself from a deep, concentrated stare into her dinner plate. An old, old nickname of hers, the name her father would often call her with the most sincerity -- and for a moment it took her back to a time when she genuinely felt . . . loved? Everything up to this point in her life had made her question if it was ever even legitimate, and to feel something so real from someone she knows wouldn’t hurt her, it began to fill a hole that’d been left behind.