jean was privy to the ugly truth about the moriyamas, as he’d been sold to tetsuji years ago to settle a debt with the head of the family. jean hated his lot in life, but he was past the point where he could even think of fighting back.
he wasn’t a rebel; he was a survivor. he did whatever it took to get through the day.
When my country was occupied by the soviet union in 1940, my eyesight worsened considerably and stayed that way for many years. It’s not unusual for some countries to go through this. However, since 1991 my eyesight has improved and I don’t think I need my glasses as much as I did before. Although at this point, I would feel strange without them.
Headcanon about that pinball machine in Cisco’s apartment: that was the first thing he really ever ‘fixed’.
Little tiny, tiny Francisco loved the arcade near his house; loved tagging along with Armando and being hefted up onto his shoulders at times just so that he could see what was going on. When it closed down, he was heartbroken. He begged his mama to get the owner to keep it open somehow. It didn’t work.
But one day while he was strolling around the neighborhood with his brothers, he saw that the owner had the machines for sale. They were expensive, of course…aside from the one broken pinball machine, the one that sat in the very back of the arcade, that had been broken so long that none of the brothers had ever seen it. Cisco knew he had to have it though.
He ran around for a week looking for any and every little task he could do to earn money to buy it. He helped Mrs. Sánchez across the street carry in her groceries, he helped his tío by raking leaves as best as his tiny hands could. He even helped his mama cook dinner one night. In the end, he managed to scrounge up 20 or 30 dollars.
Cisco ran as fast as his tiny legs would carry him once he had enough, his papa panting as he ran after his enthusiastic son. Cisco proudly pushed the money towards the arcade owner, bouncing on his toes with excitement. That pinball machine was all his. (Papa Ramon paid the owner an extra 30 dollars with a smile) All three Ramon boys carried it home. It went in the garage, of course. That dusty thing was not allowed in Mama Ramon’s house, she was not having it. But as soon as the legs were set firmly on the concrete floor, Cisco immediately set about gutting the machine.
Armando and Dante helped, of course, because well…Cisco had some difficulties reading the really hard words in the repairs guide they found tucked in the back. But over the course of a few months, Cisco restored that thing as best as his tiny self could. It…worked and that was all that mattered. Many afternoons were lost to the pinball machine in the garage and many arguments were fought over who really had gotten the highest score. Dante had a bad habit of resetting the high score when he got beaten, at least until Cisco found a way to disable the reset button.
Once Armando died, Cisco set about restoring it outright as a way to cope with the loss. He had so many good memories of after school pinball sessions with his brothers, tinkering with it took his mind to happier places. When he moved out, the pinball machine was the first thing in his apartment and it’s stayed with him ever since. Sometimes on the bad nights, he’ll shuffle out in the wee hours of the morning and play a game or two, the sounds and lights and feeling of it all bringing him back to a time when his feet were firmly on the ground. And for a blip of a second, he lets himself be at ease.
au where victor is a horse and yuuri is the ranch person thing
(this. this is why i was regretting taking prompts.)
(and eXCUSE ME ‘ranch person thing’ is my JOB)
Never in his life has Yuuri seen a finer looking stallion.
He leans on the fencepost, gazing dumbfoundedly at the perfect creature in front of him. He’s flawless. Ethereal. All long legs and flowing silver mane billowing in the breeze as the sun shone down on his sparkling white coat, galloping through the open field in the bliss of the springtime. How he ended up on his ranch, Yuuri had no idea. He had just appeared, like a creature out of a dream.
“Who are you?” Yuuri asks to himself. “Where did you come from?”
The horse turns his head and points his ears towards him, as if he had heard the question Yuuri has whispered into the springtime wind. His mane and tail whipping wildly in the breeze, the stallion suddenly tosses his head back and rears up, his front legs striking the air as he sends a whinny skyward. He lands, then gallops directly to where Yuuri is standing, stopping only a few inches in front of him.
Yuuri reaches out to place a hand on the horse’s neck.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, gazing into the stallion’s sparkling blue eyes.
Yuuri freezes as the horse moves closer, lowers his head and nuzzles his ear, as if trying to speak to him, as if trying to give him an answer.
“Yuuri, starting today, I’ll be your new horse.”
Yuuri bolts upright in his bed, hands shaking and drenched entirely in a cold sweat.
His husband stirs beside him. “What’s the matter, love?” Viktor drawls, attempting to shake himself from sleep.
“Oh, nothing, I just-” he tries to start, but not quite finding the right words to explain.
“I just had the weirdest dream.”
aRE YOU HAPPY NOW @forovnix and @actualyuuri ??? have you harassed me enough?? will you ever end my misery???
im quitting my job after this. deleting my blog and all my writing. thx.