#this is baddd

☆ sandcastles

“Hey you!” Someone called to a six-year-old Finney from across the playground, pointing at him.

Finney looked up from his collection of sandcastles he was building, upset to be disturbed from creating his masterpiece.

A small group of boys came over, around three or four, and stood infront of Finney.

“I’m going to stomp on your stupid sandcastle, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” One of the boys yelled, jumping onto Finney’s small collection of sandcastles.

Finney said nothing, staring blankly at the now-crushed sandcastles that he had spent nearly the whole of recess creating.

“Hey!” Another kid called out. Finney recognised him, as the boy was in his class. The boy walked over to the small group of bullies that were still crowding around Finney.

The boy pushed over the tallest kid, the bully falling over onto his butt in the sandpit. The other bullies scarpered, not wanting to be pushed over by this terrifying six-year-old.

The boy stuck out a hand to help Finney up, glaring at the bullies as they ran away.

“I’m Robin!” The boy announced, showing off his missing front teeth as he grinned at Finney, who just looked slightly confused by the whole situation.

“I’m Finney” Finney mumbled, grabbing Robin’s hand and helping himself up from the sandpit. He brushed himself off, before looking up at Robin and muttering a ‘thanks’ with the brightest smile he could muster.

“We should be friends!” Robin declared, “Best friends!”

Finney nodded, grinning at the six year old boy opposite him.

“Wanna build sandcastles with me?” Finney asked, holding up his plastic bucket and spade to the raven-haired boy opposite him.

Robin nodded, eager to start building sandcastles with his new best friend.

“How are you sleeping?” The question was posed casually, as if just making small talk, but Ava knew what was actually being asked.

Are your meds working? Are you manic? Why are your eyes bloodshot? Are you safe to work today?

“I haven’t been doing much of that lately,” she replied, fiddling with the flimsy plastic lid on her coffee cup.

“Ava,” Connor’s eyes tracked her nervous stimming, “When was the last time you slept?”

She shrugged, “Depends on your definition of sleep. A couple hours in the on call room or a crash on my couch here and there. It’s all I have time for.”

Her colleague sighed and nudged her shoulder with his elbow, “You need to sleep. You can’t work like this.”

She raised an eyebrow when he gestured vaguely to her current state, unwashed hair throwing into a haphazard ponytail and pupils dilated despite the bright sun they stood in. Ava was barely back from her forced time off, not feeling much better, and she could tell it was becoming obvious to those around her.

“I haven’t been allowed to work for weeks, Connor. If Goodwin hears anything she’ll surely fire me at this point.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t do surgery today,” he replied, “Not that I don’t trust you, Ava, but you don’t look okay. Please go talk to Charles.”

“I can’t-“

He huffed and then caught a glimpse of someone chatting with April by the coffee cart, “I’ll tell Sarah.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Ava’s heart caught in her throat, if Sarah knew she hadn’t been resting she would be distraught. Ava would have to go back to twice weekly psych visits and it could risk her job performance or even leave her unemployed. If she even began to explain what was going on in her brain lately, Dr. Charles would surely admit her for her own safety.

Started playin Undertale yet again

Goat mom is pure and lovely, have some oddly proportioned and posed hugs