#i was torn between this one and the adhd one
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Guys. GUYS!
I bought myself a little asthma bunny and called him Rudy. He has a tiny inhaler. I’m in tears🥹
#he’s made by a company called ‘Plushie Dreadful’ and there’s so many gorgeous bunnies available!#i was torn between this one and the adhd one#the adhd one was uglier though so here he is!!#they all come with a tote bag too I’m obsessed#highkey bought my friend a fibro one too as a surprise#shhhh#she don’t follow me on here it’s all good#plushie dreadfuls#plushie#asthma#chronic asthmatic#asthmatic
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I'm sitting here like why the fuck does my one leg and hips hurt like that wtf
Then I was gonna make a joke about it, cause obviously
Then I remembered they probably hurt cause I ran, tripped, and fell into a wall in the least cool way possible
I am the joke.
#i was confused like im atill stretching and shit and my hips arent usually a problem???#its usually my one knee and the lack of my legs#i sit cross leggy so much and scrunched up theyre never stretched#but yeah. i jusy fuckin bodyslammed the floor and wall over running in the wrong shoes whoops#on a delay too cause thay was 2 days ago now#/shrug#quit eavesdropping toots#was torn for too long between making an old man joke and a dirty joke#nah it was just an impuslive choice thing fueled by adhd coffee and dumbassery as you do
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Between the Sky & the Horizon
Status: Complete.
Pairings: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader
Summary: Set in a small Texas town during the 1940s, Joel Miller, a grieving widower, and father, is thrust into a marriage of convenience with the Reverend's pregnant daughter, Dorothy.
Word Count: 16.5k words
A/N: My ADHD brain went into overdrive and I wrote this in one sitting. No edits, not beta'd. Warnings: Main OC has an assigned gender and name. Timeline inaccuracies, this was set in the 1940s but I may have included inaccuracies in technology etc., marriage of convenience, angst and fluff, emotional hurt/comfort a bit of drama, SMUT so yes, a little explicit sexual content, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, graphic depictions of childbirth.
Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist
The air was thick with the scent of freshly turned earth as Joel Miller stepped off his tractor, wiping the sweat from his brow. His fields stretched endlessly in all directions, a patchwork of gold and green under the late afternoon sun. It was the kind of quiet that had grown comfortable to him, the kind that came with long days and longer nights alone. He’d gotten used to it, even preferred it, in the years since Sarah had passed. Noise felt like an intrusion now.
He crouched down to check the soil near the newly planted rows, letting his fingers dig into the cool, damp earth. The rhythmic clucking of the chickens behind him and the distant barking of his old dog, Scout, were the only things breaking the silence. It was peaceful, or as close to it as Joel allowed himself to feel these days.
That was until the sound of a truck pulling up the long, gravel driveway caught his attention. Joel glanced over his shoulder, frowning as a black Ford truck came into view. Not many people came out here uninvited. He stood, dusting off his hands on his worn jeans, and waited as the truck rolled to a stop in front of his house.
The door creaked open, and out stepped Reverend William Hargrove. Joel’s frown deepened. He hadn’t seen the reverend since Sarah’s funeral. The man had changed since then—his once well-groomed hair had gone gray, and there were deeper lines etched into his face. But his eyes still held that same fire, a flame that had burned even hotter since he’d found God and sworn off the drink. Hargrove shut the door and walked towards him, his steps heavy with purpose.
“Joel,” the reverend greeted, tipping his hat. His voice was rough, but there was an undercurrent of something that made Joel’s gut twist.
“Reverend,” Joel replied, keeping his tone neutral. “Didn’t expect to see you out here.”
Hargrove nodded, looking around the farm before turning his gaze back to Joel. “Got a proposition for you. Something… out of the ordinary.”
Joel crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the tractor. “Go on.”
The reverend hesitated, then sighed deeply. “It’s about my daughter, Dorothy.”
Joel’s brow furrowed. He hadn’t seen Dot in years, not since she’d left town to chase a life beyond this small, dusty place. “What about her?”
“She’s come back home,” Hargrove said, his voice dropping. “And she’s pregnant.”
The words hung in the air like a curse. Joel didn’t say anything, just stared at the man in front of him, waiting for the rest of it.
“The father… he’s gone,” Hargrove continued, clearing his throat. “Naval officer. She won’t say much about him, but it doesn’t matter. She’s alone, Joel. And this town… well, you know how folks talk.”
Joel did know. This place thrived on whispers and judgment. A woman like Dot, unmarried and pregnant, would be torn apart by the gossip. But that wasn’t his problem.
“What’s this got to do with me?” Joel asked, though he already had a sinking feeling he knew the answer.
Hargrove shifted on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment before meeting Joel’s eyes again. “I need a man to marry her. To give her and that baby a name, protection. And you need someone to take care of your home while you work this land.”
Joel pushed off the tractor, pacing a few steps away. He didn’t need this. Didn’t need someone coming into his life, stirring things up. But the reverend’s words echoed in his mind—protection. He knew what it was like to be alone, to feel like the world had turned its back on you. He’d been living that reality every day since Sarah died.
“She doesn’t know you’re here, does she?” Joel asked, turning back to face Hargrove.
The reverend shook his head. “No. But she’s desperate, Joel. I know it’s a lot to ask, but she needs help. And maybe… maybe you do too.”
Joel clenched his jaw. It wasn’t that simple, nothing ever was. But there was a part of him, buried deep under the weight of grief and loneliness, that considered it. He could offer her a place to stay, a way to survive this town’s judgment. Maybe, in return, she could offer him something too—someone to come home to, even if it was just a formality.
“How soon are you talking?” Joel asked, his voice low.
“Soon,” Hargrove replied. “Before anyone can start asking too many questions.”
Joel nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t know what possessed him to agree, but before he could stop himself, he said, “Alright. I’ll do it.”
The reverend let out a breath of relief, stepping forward to shake Joel’s hand. “Thank you, Joel. You’ve done a good thing today. We’ll make the arrangements quickly.”
Joel nodded again, feeling the weight of his decision settle over him like a heavy coat. As he watched the reverend get back into his truck and drive away, he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell he’d just gotten himself into.
-
Dot stood in the kitchen of her childhood home, staring out the window at the garden where her mother once grew flowers. The familiar scent of freshly baked bread lingered in the air, a remnant of her father’s attempt to make things feel normal. But nothing about this moment was normal. She absently traced a finger along the edge of the counter, lost in thought.
When she heard the front door creak open, she turned, her heart skipping a beat. Her father had said Joel Miller was coming by, but she hadn’t expected him so soon. And she hadn’t expected the nerves that twisted in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again after all these years.
The heavy footsteps that followed were unmistakable. Joel had always had a presence—quiet, but solid, like the earth beneath her feet. When he walked into the kitchen, she almost forgot to breathe.
He was more handsome than she remembered. The years had etched deeper lines into his face, and his hair had more silver in it now, but there was something about him that made her pulse quicken. Maybe it was the way he filled the space with that same quiet strength, or the way his eyes—still that deep brown she remembered—looked at her with a mix of surprise and something she couldn’t quite name.
“Dot,” Joel said, his voice low and rough.
“Joel,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. She forced herself to smile, though it felt strained. “It’s been a long time.”
He nodded, stepping further into the room. “It has.”
Her father, Reverend Hargrove, appeared in the doorway a moment later, his expression unreadable. Dot’s gaze flicked between the two men, unease settling in her chest.
“What’s this all about, Dad?” Dot asked, her voice sharper than she intended.
Hargrove cleared his throat, glancing at Joel before speaking. “I’ve spoken with Joel about… your situation. He’s agreed to marry you.”
Dot blinked, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. “He… what?”
“I thought it’d be best for everyone,” Hargrove continued, his tone cautious. “You’d have protection, and Joel… well, he could use someone to take care of the home while he’s out working.”
Dot’s eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, anger surged through her. “You can’t just—” She stopped herself, forcing the words back down. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. Turning to Joel, she asked quietly, “Did he force you into this?”
Joel’s gaze met hers, steady and calm. “No, Dot. He didn’t force me.”
She shook her head, her voice softening. “You don’t have to do this, Joel. You don’t owe him—or anyone—a favor. This… this isn’t your problem.”
For a long moment, there was silence. Then, Hargrove cleared his throat again, sensing the tension, and murmured, “I’ll leave you two to talk,” before slipping out of the room, leaving them alone.
Dot stared after him for a moment before turning back to Joel. “You don’t have to do this,” she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can handle the gossip. It’s nobody’s business if I’m pregnant.”
Joel studied her, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak right away, and for a moment, Dot wondered if he would just walk out and leave her standing there with her unanswered questions. But then, he took a step closer, his gaze never leaving hers.
“It might not be anyone’s business,” Joel said quietly, “but that won’t stop them from talking. You know how this town is, Dot. They’ll tear you apart, whether it’s their business or not.”
Dot swallowed hard, knowing he was right. The town had always thrived on gossip, and a pregnant, unmarried woman was the kind of scandal they’d feast on for months.
Joel continued, his voice steady and calm, “I’m not doin’ this because I owe anyone. I’m doin’ it because… I know what it’s like to lose everything. And I know you don’t deserve to go through this alone. We can make it work—on our terms.”
Dot searched his face, looking for any sign of hesitation, but there was none. She knew Joel wasn’t the kind of man to say something he didn’t mean. He was offering her a way out, a chance to protect herself and her baby from the town’s judgment. And in a strange way, she realized he was offering himself a chance too—a chance to have someone by his side again, even if it was just for convenience.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions inside her. “What if it doesn’t work?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Joel’s gaze softened, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of something—maybe understanding, maybe hope—in his eyes. “Then we’ll figure it out. But at least we’ll be in it together.”
Dot held his gaze for a long moment before finally nodding. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay, Joel. Let’s do this.”
Joel let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and gave her a small nod in return. It wasn’t a grand declaration of love or anything close to it. But it was an agreement—one born out of necessity, maybe even mutual respect.
And in this town, that was enough.
-
The sun was setting when they stood in the small living room of her father’s house, the last rays of daylight filtering through the lace curtains. Reverend Hargrove stood before them with his Bible in hand, his expression somber but steady. Tommy Miller and his wife, Maria, stood off to the side, witnesses to the union.
Hargrove cleared his throat and began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony. Marriage is a sacred bond, one that requires trust, faith, and love.”
He turned to Dot first. “Dorothy Hargrove, do you take this man, Joel Miller, to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?”
Dot swallowed hard, her pulse racing, but she nodded. “I do.”
Hargrove then turned to Joel. “Joel Miller, do you take this woman, Dorothy Hargrove, to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, as long as you both shall live?”
Joel’s voice was calm as he responded, “I do.”
Hargrove nodded, and after a pause, he opened his Bible to a passage and began to read: “Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”*
The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Dot kept her eyes on Joel, feeling the weight of what they had just promised, even if love wasn’t the reason they stood here today.
“And now,” Hargrove said, closing the Bible, “by the power vested in me by the state of Texas, I pronounce you man and wife.”
Dot and Joel exchanged a brief, awkward glance. There was no call to kiss the bride, no fanfare. Instead, they simply nodded at each other, silently acknowledging the moment.
Tommy stepped forward with a grin, breaking the tension. “Well, looks like it’s official now,” he said, his voice warm. Maria joined him, smiling gently at Dot and Joel.
“We’re happy for you both,” Maria added, sincerity clear in her eyes. “Congratulations.”
The reverend handed them the marriage contract, and Dot signed her name with a steady hand. Joel followed suit, his signature finalizing their union. Tommy and Maria added their signatures as witnesses, making it all official.
As Dot looked up at Joel again, her heart still pounding, she realized that they had crossed a line they couldn’t step back from now. But maybe, just maybe, they could find a way to make this work.
Together.
-
The sky was painted in shades of twilight as Joel and Dot loaded the last of her belongings into the bed of Joel’s old truck. A single suitcase held all of her clothes, while a couple of boxes were filled with books, paper, and a well-worn typewriter that she had carried from place to place over the years.
Joel secured the boxes with a practiced hand, tying down the items to ensure nothing would shift on the hour-long drive to his farm.
Maria handed Dot a carefully wrapped cake, a warm smile on her face. "Here, take this with you. And there’s a casserole, too—figured you might not want to cook your first night there."
"Thank you, Maria," Dot said softly, accepting the food.
Tommy stepped forward, his grin infectious. "You two take care now, y’hear? And don’t be strangers."
Dot managed a small smile. "We’ll try not to."
Her father, Reverend Hargrove, approached, placing a gentle hand on Dot’s shoulder before leaning in to kiss her forehead. “You’ve done the right thing, Dorothy. Remember that.”
She nodded, fighting back the wave of emotions that threatened to surface. “I will, Dad.”
Joel stepped forward, offering his hand to the reverend. “Thank you, Reverend Hargrove. I’ll take care of her.”
Hargrove shook Joel’s hand firmly, his eyes carrying a mixture of gratitude and something unspoken. “I know you will, Joel.”
With everything packed, Joel opened the passenger door for Dot. She hesitated for just a moment before climbing in, and settling into the worn seat. Joel circled around to the driver’s side, sliding in behind the wheel.
As they drove out of town, the houses grew sparse, replaced by open fields that stretched endlessly into the horizon. The silence in the truck was thick, but Dot finally broke it, her voice soft.
"You’ve got quite the setup at the farm, haven’t you? My dad says you’ve got a whole team of workers."
Joel nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. "Yeah, I’ve got a few hands helping out. We grow a bit of everything—corn, wheat, some vegetables. There’s always work to be done."
Dot glanced out the window, watching the landscape blur past. "Sounds like you don’t really need me around, then, if you’ve got that many people."
Joel shook his head slightly. "They tend the fields, keep the crops goin’. But the house… it’s just me out there. Haven’t really kept up with it the way I should’ve. That’s where I could use some help."
Dot chuckled softly, more to herself than to him. "So I’m more of a housekeeper than a wife, huh?"
Joel glanced at her, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I wouldn’t put it that way. But it’s somethin’ I figured we could work out together."
The truck rumbled down the dirt road, the only sound between them the steady hum of the engine and the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Joel glanced over at Dot occasionally, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t come out awkward or forced. It was easier when they were working, but conversation was another matter.
After a few minutes of silence, Joel cleared his throat. “You ever think about comin’ back here before all this?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.
Dot shook her head slightly. “Not really. I mean, I’ve visited a few times over the years, but I never thought I’d be back for good. Too many memories, I guess.”
Joel nodded, understanding more than he let on. “It’s not the easiest place to come back to. But sometimes… sometimes it’s the only place that makes sense.”
Dot turned her gaze out the window, watching the fields pass by. “Yeah, I suppose. Guess I thought I’d be somewhere else by now, doing something different.”
“What’d you have in mind?” Joel asked, genuinely curious.
Dot hesitated for a moment, then shrugged. “I don’t know… something more than this. I wanted to see the world, write stories, maybe even publish a book someday. But life has a funny way of getting in the way of dreams, doesn’t it?”
Joel’s brow furrowed. “Writing, huh? Never knew that about you.”
Dot gave a small, wistful smile. “It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Stories, poems… anything that came to mind. But it’s hard to find the time or the inspiration to actually finish anything. I guess I just kept waiting for the right moment, but it never really came.”
Joel considered her words, understanding that feeling all too well. “Farm life might not give you much in the way of excitement, but it’ll give you time. Quiet, too. Maybe that’s what you need.”
Dot looked over at him, surprised by the insight. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll have to see how it goes.”
Joel nodded, letting a comfortable silence fall between them. After a moment, he spoke again, changing the subject slightly. “Farm’s big, but it’s not as busy as it used to be. We got the crops to tend, and the workers handle most of that. It’s the house that’s a different story. Never been much good at keepin’ it in order.”
Dot chuckled softly, the tension easing just a bit. “So, I am a housekeeper after all, then?” She joked.
“No--Jesus, that's not what I meant." Joel chuckled, shaking his head. "Just think of it as… a partnership. You help with what I can’t manage alone, and I’ll do the same.”
Dot nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose that makes sense. And who knows, maybe I’ll find some of that inspiration out there after all.”
As the truck bumped along the dirt road leading to the farmhouse, the building came into view—a large, two-story structure with a wraparound porch and a few outbuildings scattered around. The place had seen better days, but it was sturdy, built to last.
Joel parked the truck near the porch and got out, moving to help Dot with her belongings. They carried everything inside, placing the boxes and suitcase in the foyer.
"This is it," Joel said, almost to himself. "Let me show you around."
The inside of the house was simple, with wooden floors and white walls. It had a lived-in feel, though it was clear Joel wasn’t much for decorating. He led Dot through the rooms on the first floor—a cozy living room with a fireplace, a dining room that looked rarely used, and a spacious kitchen that was surprisingly well-stocked.
"There’s a room down here," Joel said, opening a door to reveal a small bedroom with its own bathroom. "Figured it might come in handy if you ever have any guests in or too old to get up and down the stairs."
They both laughed a little at that.
Upstairs, Joel showed her the four bedrooms. "This one’s yours," he said, stopping at a large room at the end of the hall. It had its own bathroom and a view of the fields stretching out behind the house.
Dot set her suitcase down near the bed, glancing around the room. "It’s lovely, Joel. Thank you."
He nodded, somewhat awkwardly, before motioning to the room across the hall. "I’m just over there, if you need anything. Right here is another guest room." He said, pointing to another door down the hall.
Dot noticed one door at the end of the hallway that remained closed. Joel’s eyes flicked toward it for a brief second before looking away. She didn’t need to ask; she understood.
"That’s Sarah’s room," he said quietly, almost as if the words slipped out before he could stop them. "Built this house hopin’ to fill it with kids…"
He trailed off, clearing his throat and turning away. Dot, sensing his discomfort, smiled gently and placed a hand on his arm. "It’s a beautiful home, Joel. You did a wonderful job. How about we see what Maria packed for dinner?"
Joel looked at her, grateful for the change of subject. "Yeah… yeah, that sounds good."
Back downstairs, they unpacked the casserole and cake, setting the table in the kitchen. They ate in relative silence, the weight of the day hanging over them. When they did talk, it was mostly about other people—Tommy and Maria, Dot’s father, the workers on Joel’s farm. Neither seemed ready to delve deeper into their own stories just yet.
After dinner, they worked together to clean up, each movement deliberate and careful, as if afraid to disturb the fragile peace that had settled between them. Dot washed the dishes, and Joel dried them, the clinking of plates and cutlery the only sound in the kitchen.
When the last dish was put away, they both paused, looking at each other with a mixture of uncertainty and something close to understanding.
"Well," Joel said, breaking the silence. "Guess we should call it a night."
Dot nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Good night, Joel."
"Good night, Dot."
They lingered for a moment longer before turning to head upstairs, each retreating into their separate rooms. As Dot closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath, feeling the enormity of the day finally settling in.
She was in a new place, with a new life ahead of her—one that she hadn’t planned for, but one she was determined to make the best of.
And somewhere across the hall, Joel was likely thinking the same thing.
–
The sun rose early on the farm, the first light of dawn spilling over the horizon and casting long shadows across the fields. Joel Miller had always been an early riser, finding solace in the quiet hours of the morning before the day’s work began. But lately, those peaceful moments were tinged with a restlessness he couldn’t quite shake.
He’d lie awake in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, his mind wandering through a landscape of memories he’d long tried to bury. Memories of Sarah, her green eyes so full of life, and of her mother, who had passed too soon, leaving him to raise their daughter alone. The pain of those losses had never really left him; it had just settled into a dull ache that flared up in the quiet moments.
And now, there was Dot.
Dot, with her gentle way of moving through his house, her soft humming as she went about her chores, her growing belly that served as a constant reminder of the new life she carried. It was hard to ignore the way she had changed things. The house that had once been silent and still now held a new energy, one that Joel hadn’t realized he’d been missing.
He found himself watching her more often than he liked to admit, noticing the little things she did—how she’d pause in the middle of a task to catch her breath, or the way she’d carefully arrange flowers in a vase, as if trying to bring a bit of beauty into a space that had known too much sorrow. Joel wasn’t sure what to make of these feelings, the way his chest tightened whenever he saw her, or the way he couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the house without checking on her first.
The days were long, filled with the endless tasks that came with running a farm, but it was the evenings he looked forward to most. He’d come in from the fields, the sun dipping low in the sky, and find Dot in the kitchen, a meal waiting on the table. They didn’t talk much at first, the silence between them thick with unspoken words, but over time, the quiet had become something comfortable, almost companionable.
Joel couldn’t deny that she had a way of making the house feel like a home again. He wasn’t sure how it had happened—how they’d gone from being two strangers thrown together by circumstance to something more. But as the days turned into weeks, he began to realize that he looked forward to those small moments of connection, those fleeting touches, and shared glances that hinted at something deeper.
-
It had been a few weeks since Joel and Dot had settled into their new routine on the farm, but something felt different this morning. As they prepared to head into town for Dot’s check-up, Joel noticed the way she seemed more withdrawn than usual. She moved through the house with an absentminded air, her hand frequently resting on her growing bump, gently caressing it as if to soothe the child within. Joel couldn’t help but think it was just the pregnancy making her moody and uncomfortable, the summer heat weighing on her like it did on everyone else.
“Ready, darlin’?” Joel asked as he opened the truck door for her, his tone gentle. Dot nodded, but there was a distant look in her eyes that made him pause. She climbed into the truck, her movements slow and careful, and Joel couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more on her mind.
They drove in silence for a while, the only sound the rumble of the engine and the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. Joel glanced over at Dot from time to time, noticing the way she kept her gaze fixed on the road ahead, her hand never leaving her belly. He figured she was just tired, the weight of the baby and the strain of the heat getting to her. But as they got closer to town, the tension in the air seemed to thicken, and Joel knew something was off.
When they arrived at the doctor’s office, a hush fell over the waiting area as they stepped inside. Joel moved to Dot’s side, taking her small hand in his, their fingers interlocking as they walked to their seats. Joel noticed the curious glances from the other patients, the way conversations dropped to a murmur as they sat down. Dot’s grip on his hand tightened slightly, her fingers trembling against his skin. Joel gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, offering silent support.
The doctor called them in after a few minutes, and they followed him into the small examination room. The check-up was routine, the doctor’s hands gentle as he examined Dot’s belly and listened to the baby’s heartbeat. “You’re about five months along now,” the doctor said with a reassuring smile. “Everything looks good. You and the baby are both healthy.”
Dot nodded, a small smile of relief crossing her face, but Joel could tell she was still troubled. As the doctor finished up, Joel opened the door for her, and they stepped back into the waiting area. Dot barely gave Joel a chance to catch up before she hurried toward the exit, practically dragging him behind her. Her hand cradled her bump protectively, her steps hurried and anxious.
“Dot, what’s wrong?” Joel asked as they stepped outside, the door closing behind them with a soft thud.
Dot didn’t answer at first, her eyes darting around as if she were searching for an escape. Finally, she stopped, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she turned to face him. “It’s the way they look at us,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “The way they’re already gossiping, speculating about us… about this baby. They’re judging, Joel. They’re thinking… all sorts of things.”
Joel’s expression softened as he stepped closer, his hand finding her shoulder in a comforting grip. “Darlin’, this town’s been talkin’ since the day it was built. Let ‘em talk. Ain’t nobody’s business but ours.”
Dot’s hand instinctively moved to her belly, caressing it in slow, soothing circles. “But it’s not just that… It’s the way they look at us, like they know everything about us. I hate it.”
Joel gently cupped her cheek, tilting her face up so she had to look at him. “They don’t know anything, darlin’. All they got is gossip, and that doesn’t change a thing between us. This baby is ours, and we’re gonna raise it together, no matter what they think.”
Dot searched his eyes, looking for any sign of doubt, but all she saw was the quiet determination that had drawn her to him in the first place. She nodded slowly, her fears beginning to ease in the face of his steady reassurance.
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “Okay, Joel. I’ll try.”
He gave her a small, comforting smile, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped down her cheek. “That’s my girl.”
They stood there for a moment, the weight of their conversation settling between them, before Joel glanced at the truck, then back at Dot. “You ever learn how to drive?”
Dot blinked, surprised by the sudden change in topic. “Not really,” she admitted. “My dad tried to teach me, but I never got the hang of it.”
Joel nodded, his smile widening just a bit. “Well, I reckon it’s time you learned. Come on, let’s get in the truck.”
Joel led Dot back to the truck, the tension from their earlier conversation slowly dissipating as they moved into the next task at hand. He opened the driver’s side door and gestured for her to get in, his smile widening as she hesitated.
“Come on, darlin’. You can’t learn if you don’t get behind the wheel,” Joel encouraged, his tone light, trying to ease her nerves.
Dot glanced at the truck, then back at Joel, a mixture of apprehension and determination in her eyes. “Alright,” she said, more to herself than to him, and she climbed into the driver’s seat, her hand instinctively resting on her bump as she adjusted herself in the seat.
Joel circled around to the passenger side and got in, closing the door with a reassuring thud. He looked over at Dot, who was gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled intensity, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
“Relax, Dot. You’re not gonna break it,” he said, his voice gentle as he reached over to adjust her hands on the wheel. “Just take it easy, and listen to what I say.”
Dot nodded, exhaling a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Okay. I can do this.”
Joel pointed to the key in the ignition. “Go ahead and start her up.”
The engine roared to life, and Dot jumped slightly at the sound. Joel placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’re doin’ fine. Now, put your foot on the brake, and shift into drive.”
Dot followed his instructions, her movements cautious but deliberate. The truck rolled forward, and she felt a small surge of confidence as she navigated the empty stretch of road. Joel kept his eyes on the road ahead, but every now and then, he’d glance at her, noting the determined set of her jaw, the way she bit her lip in concentration.
“Now, ease off the brake and give it a little gas,” Joel instructed. “Not too much, just enough to get us moving.”
The truck picked up speed, and Dot’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “It feels… different,” she admitted her voice a mix of nerves and excitement. “I’ve never driven something this big before.”
Joel smiled, his voice filled with quiet pride. “You’re doin’ good, Dot. Just keep it steady.”
They drove for a while in companionable silence, the countryside rolling by in a blur of green and gold. Joel guided her through the basics, his instructions clear and patient. As they drove, Dot’s tension began to ease, and she found herself relaxing into the rhythm of the drive.
“You’re a natural,” Joel said, breaking the silence. “Once you get the hang of it, you’ll be able to drive anywhere.”
Dot glanced over at him, a shy smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Thanks, Joel. I never thought I’d be learning to drive out here… like this.”
Joel chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Figured it was about time. Besides, it’s a useful skill to have, especially out here. You never know when you’ll need to get somewhere in a hurry.”
Dot nodded, understanding the practicality of his words. But there was something more to this moment, something that felt like progress. She was doing something she never thought she’d be able to do, and Joel was right there beside her, guiding her, encouraging her.
As they neared the farm, Joel directed her to a quieter path that led around the back of the property. The road was narrower here, flanked by trees that cast dappled shadows across the ground. It felt like a different world, a peaceful escape from the worries that had weighed on her earlier.
“Let’s take it slow here,” Joel advised, his tone easy. “This part’s a bit trickier, but you’ve got it.”
Dot navigated the winding path with careful precision, her confidence growing with each turn. The truck bumped along the dirt road, and she couldn’t help but smile at the feeling of accomplishment that welled up inside her.
When they finally pulled back up to the farmhouse, Dot turned off the engine and sat back in the seat, letting out a breath of relief. Joel watched her, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“You did good, darlin’,” he said, his voice full of pride. “You’re a quick learner.”
Dot’s cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and bashfulness. “Thanks, it was a little scary though...”
Joel nodded, the moment of connection between them settling into something comfortable, something real. “Anytime, darlin’.” He whispered and leaned in hesitantly until there was only a breadth of distance between them. Joel contemplated giving her a peck on the lips, but instead, he brushed his lips on her forehead.
“You did well.”
They lingered in the truck for a moment longer, the weight of their earlier worries forgotten in the wake of this small victory. They shared a brief laughter of relief… It was a simple thing, learning to drive, but it felt like a step forward, a sign that they were finding their way through this new life together.
Finally, Joel opened the door and stepped out, offering Dot a hand as she carefully climbed down from the truck. “Let’s get inside. I reckon we’ve earned ourselves a break.”
Dot smiled, taking his hand as they walked toward the house, the warmth of the afternoon sun casting long shadows across the yard. It wasn’t much, but it was enough—a moment of progress, a sign that they were building something that just might last.
-
After their driving lesson, Dot and Joel fell into a routine that began to feel almost natural. The farm was vast, and the work was endless, but they found comfort in the rhythm of their days. Mornings were quiet, the only sounds the soft clucking of chickens and the distant lowing of cattle as the sun rose over the horizon. Joel was always up first, slipping out of bed before dawn to tend to the animals and check the fields. He’d return to the house as the first light of day filtered through the kitchen windows, finding Dot already awake, her hands busy with some small task.
Dot had taken to waking early as well, her body adjusting to the demands of farm life. She’d start the day by tidying up the kitchen, her hands moving in gentle, deliberate motions as she wiped down the counters and set the table for breakfast. Her belly was growing larger with each passing week, and she found herself moving more slowly, her hand often resting on her bump as she worked.
One morning, as Joel entered the kitchen, he found Dot standing at the stove, carefully stirring a pot of oatmeal. The smell of cinnamon filled the air, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, so focused on the task at hand.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Joel greeted her, his voice soft as he crossed the room to stand beside her.
Dot looked up, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Morning, Joel. Breakfast is almost ready.”
He nodded, reaching out to take the spoon from her hand. “Let me finish that up. You should sit down and rest.”
Dot hesitated, her hand instinctively moving to her belly as she glanced at the pot. “I’m fine, Joel. I can manage.”
Joel shook his head, his expression gentle but firm. “I know you can, but you don’t have to do it all yourself. Go on, sit down. I’ll bring it over.”
Dot finally relented, taking a seat at the table and watching as Joel finished preparing breakfast. It was a simple meal, but it felt like a shared effort, something they had both contributed to. As Joel brought the bowls to the table and set one in front of her, Dot couldn’t help but feel a warmth in her chest, a sense of belonging that she hadn’t expected.
They ate in comfortable silence, the early morning light casting a golden glow across the kitchen. Dot found herself glancing at Joel now and then, noticing the way he moved with an ease that came from years of hard work. He was a man of few words, but she had come to appreciate the way he showed his care through actions rather than speech.
After breakfast, Joel rose from the table and grabbed his hat from the hook by the door. “I’ll be out in the fields if you need me,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.
Dot nodded, her hand resting on her bump as she watched him go. “I might come out later, see if there’s anything I can help with.”
Joel paused, his hand on the door handle as he turned back to her. “You’re always welcome, Dot. Just don’t overdo it, alright?”
A small smile crossed her face, and she nodded again. “I won’t.”
As Joel left the house, Dot finished tidying up the kitchen, her thoughts lingering on the man who had just walked out the door. There was something comforting about the routine they had settled into, something that made her feel less alone in the world. It wasn’t what she had expected when she had agreed to this arrangement, but it was beginning to feel like something she could build on.
Later that morning, as the sun climbed higher in the sky, Dot decided to join Joel in the fields. The air was warm, and the sky was a clear, endless blue as she made her way out to where he was working. Joel was by the fence, mending a section that had come loose, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he worked.
Dot approached slowly, her hand resting on her belly as she took in the sight of him. He looked up as she neared, his expression softening as he saw her.
“Didn’t expect you out here so soon,” Joel said, a hint of surprise in his voice.
Dot smiled, her hand still resting on her bump. “Thought I’d see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
Joel straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “There’s always somethin’ to do, but I don’t want you pushin’ yourself too hard.”
“I’m not made of glass, Joel,” Dot replied, a touch of humor in her voice. “Besides, I need to keep busy. Sitting around all day isn’t good for me.”
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at her. “Alright, darlin’. How about you hand me those nails over there?”
Dot nodded and moved to retrieve the small box of nails from where they sat on a nearby post. As she handed them to him, their fingers brushed briefly, and she felt a small jolt of electricity at the contact. It was a fleeting moment, but it left her feeling oddly warm inside.
They worked together in companionable silence, with Joel giving her small tasks that wouldn’t tire her out. As they fell into a rhythm, Dot found herself enjoying the work, the sense of purpose it gave her. She asked questions about the farm, about the crops and the animals, and Joel answered them with a patience that surprised her.
“You’ve been doing this for a long time,” Dot remarked as she watched Joel hammer a nail into place. “I can tell by the way you move, like you’re part of the land.”
Joel paused, glancing over at her with a thoughtful expression. “Guess you could say that. This farm’s been in my family for generations. It’s in my blood, I suppose.”
Dot nodded, her hand absently caressing her belly as she considered his words. “Must be nice, having that kind of connection to something.”
“It is,” Joel agreed, his voice tinged with a hint of pride. “But it’s hard work too. Takes a lot to keep it goin’. Can’t do it alone.”
There was a weight to his words that Dot didn’t miss, and she looked at him with a newfound understanding. “You’re not alone, Joel,” she said softly. “I’m here now. I want to help.”
Joel looked at her, his brown eyes searching her face as if trying to gauge the sincerity of her words. After a moment, he nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I appreciate that, Dot.”
They continued working, the conversation flowing easily between them. It was as if the barriers that had once stood between them were slowly crumbling, replaced by a growing sense of trust and partnership. Joel found himself enjoying these moments with her, the quiet camaraderie that had begun to take root.
As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the fields, Joel suggested they head back to the house. Dot agreed, her body feeling the fatigue that came with a day spent in the sun. They walked back together, their pace slow and unhurried, with Dot’s hand resting on her bump as they talked about the day’s work.
When they reached the porch, Joel held the door open for her, and they stepped inside. The house was cool and dim, a welcome respite from the heat outside. Dot made her way to the kitchen, intending to start dinner, but Joel stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm.
“Why don’t you sit down for a bit, darlin’? I’ll take care of dinner tonight.”
Dot looked up at him, surprised. “Are you sure? I don’t mind cooking.”
Joel nodded, his expression firm. “I’m sure. You’ve done enough today. Let me handle this.”
Dot hesitated for a moment, then smiled and nodded. “Alright, but I’ll be your assistant if you need one.”
Joel chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Dot settled into a chair at the table, watching as Joel moved around the kitchen with a practiced ease. It was clear that he knew his way around a stove, and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for him. He was a man who took care of what needed to be done, no matter how big or small the task.
As Joel worked, he glanced over at Dot now and then, noting the way she seemed more relaxed, more at ease. He found himself wanting to make her feel comfortable, to take some of the burden off her shoulders. It was a new feeling for him, this desire to care for someone else, but it wasn’t unwelcome.
“Joel,” Dot said after a few minutes of quiet, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Do you ever think about… what it’ll be like when the baby’s here?”
Joel paused in his work, his back to her as he considered her question. “I think about it, yeah,” he admitted, his voice steady. “A lot, actually.”
Dot looked down at her hands, which were resting on her belly, gently caressing the growing bump. “It’s hard to imagine sometimes. Everything’s going to change.”
Joel turned to face her, leaning against the counter as he met her gaze. “It will, but change isn’t always a bad thing. And darlin’, a child… our child… that’s a good change. It’s a challenge, sure. Caring for a newborn is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. There’ll be sleepless nights, lots of crying, and plenty of moments when you’ll wonder if you’re doing it all wrong.”
As he spoke, Joel crossed the room and knelt down beside her, his presence warm and comforting. He reached out and gently placed his hand on top of hers, which was resting on her bump. The touch was tender, reassuring, and Dot felt a shiver of surprise at the intimacy of the gesture. But as Joel’s hand began to caress her belly, she found herself welcoming it, loving the feeling of his large, warm hands on her skin, grounding her in the moment.
“But,” Joel continued, his voice softening as he looked up at her, “it’s also one of the most beautiful things you’ll ever experience. You’ll discover a kind of love you didn’t even know your heart was capable of. It’s a love that grows with every smile, every tiny hand that grips your finger, every moment you hold our baby close and feel them breathe.”
Dot’s eyes softened, but there was a hint of sadness that lingered in them, a shadow that Joel could see all too clearly. She looked down at their joined hands, gently caressing her belly together. “I’m scared, Joel,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared I won’t be enough. That I’ll let this baby down.”
Joel’s heart ached at her words, and he squeezed her hand gently, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “You won’t, darlin’. You’ve got a heart bigger than you know. You’re gonna be a great mother, and our baby… our baby’s lucky to have you.”
Dot looked at him, her eyes searching his for reassurance. “You really think so?”
Joel nodded, his voice steady and comforting. “I know so. And you’re not alone in this, darlin’. We’re in it together, every step of the way.”
She offered him a small, grateful smile, though the sadness in her eyes remained, a reminder of the losses she had endured, the dreams that had been left behind.
Sensing her need for something lighter, Joel cleared his throat and let a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “You know,” he began, a hint of playfulness in his tone, “there are other changes about having a baby too. Like the first time you realize that diapers don’t just get dirty—they get downright explosive.”
Dot’s eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a small, unexpected laugh. “Explosive?”
“Oh yeah,” Joel replied, chuckling along with her. “You’ll be amazed at what a little baby can do. One minute, you’re holding this sweet, peaceful bundle of joy, and the next… well, let’s just say you’ll never look at mustard the same way again.”
Dot’s laughter grew, the sound light and genuine, easing some of the tension that had been building inside her. Joel grinned, pleased to see her smiling, and continued with his lighthearted tales.
“And then there’s the time when they start talking,” Joel said, still kneeling beside her, his hands resting warmly on her belly. “You think you’re ready for it, but when that first word comes out, it’ll knock the wind right out of you. And don’t get me started on when they start walking. You’ll be chasing them all over the place, and you’ll swear they’ve got rocket fuel in those little legs.”
Dot was laughing now, her earlier sadness momentarily forgotten as she listened to Joel’s stories. There was a warmth between them, something that felt like the beginnings of a new chapter, one filled with hope and possibility.
“And then, of course, there’s the first time they spit up on you right after you’ve finally gotten them to sleep,” Joel added with a mock grimace. “You’ll think it’s the worst thing in the world, but looking back, you’ll laugh about it.”
Dot shook her head, still smiling as she wiped a tear from her eye. “It sounds like it’s going to be a wild ride.”
“It will be,” Joel agreed, his voice softening as he looked at her. “But it’s worth every second. And when you hold our baby in your arms for the first time… well, that’s a feeling you’ll never forget.”
Dot’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of wistfulness as she gazed at him. “You must miss it… being a father.”
Joel’s expression grew somber for a moment, the memories of Sarah flickering behind his eyes. He cleared his throat, pushing the sadness aside as he forced a smile. “I do,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “But I’m grateful for the time I had with her. And I’m looking forward to what’s ahead.”
Dot nodded, her heart heavy with empathy for the man kneeling beside her. She could see the strength in him, the resilience that had carried him through so much loss. And in that moment, she felt a deep sense of gratitude for his presence in her life, for the way he had taken her in and given her a place to belong.
Joel reached out and gently squeezed her hand, his touch warm and reassuring. “We’re gonna make this work, darlin’. You and me, and our baby. We’re gonna be just fine.”
Dot squeezed his hand back, a small smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Joel. For everything.”
They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with unspoken understanding. It wasn’t just about the baby anymore—it was about the life they were starting to build together, the partnership that was slowly taking shape.
Finally, Joel cleared his throat and stood up, breaking the moment with a lighthearted grin. “Now, how about I finish this dinner before we burn the house down?”
Dot laughed, the sound a welcome release from the emotions that had been swirling inside her. “I think that’s a good idea.”
They spent the rest of the evening in a comfortable rhythm, moving around the kitchen together as they prepared and shared their meal. The conversation was light, filled with stories and laughter, and it felt like a small victory, a sign that they were finding their way through the challenges and toward something stronger.
As they cleaned up after dinner, Dot handed Joel a dish just as he reached for it, their movements synchronized in a way that spoke of growing familiarity. It was a small thing, but it felt significant—a sign that they were beginning to understand each other in ways that went beyond words.
When the dishes were done, they lingered in the kitchen for a moment, the warmth of the evening wrapping around them like a comforting blanket. Dot felt a sense of peace, a quiet contentment that she hadn’t felt in a long time. And as she looked at Joel, she realized that this, whatever it was they were building together, was worth holding on to.
“Goodnight, Joel,” she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude.
“Goodnight, darlin’,” Joel replied, his smile gentle as he watched her head toward the stairs that led to their rooms. “Sleep well.”
Dot gave him one last smile before heading up the stairs, leaving Joel standing in the quiet of the kitchen, his thoughts lingering on the woman who had come into his life and changed it in ways he hadn’t expected. He knew there were challenges ahead, but for the first time in a long time, he felt ready to face them.
–
The days had grown shorter, the crispness of fall settling over the farm as October gave way to November. Dot found herself adjusting more to life on the farm, her routines becoming familiar, comforting even. But with the baby’s due date approaching, Joel had become more insistent that she take it easy.
One morning, as the sun filtered through the kitchen windows, Dot entered the living room to find Joel standing beside a large oak desk that hadn’t been there the night before. Her books were stacked neatly on a newly installed shelf, the typewriter Joel had seen her use once or twice placed prominently on the desk. He turned to her with a small, proud smile, clearly pleased with his work.
“Morning, darlin’,” Joel greeted her, a warmth in his voice that made Dot’s heart flutter. “Thought it was about time you had a proper space for your writing.”
Dot’s eyes widened as she took in the setup, her hand instinctively resting on her bump. “Joel, this is… you did all this?”
He nodded, wiping his hands on the towel slung over his shoulder. “Made the desk myself. Thought you’d appreciate somethin’ sturdy. And I know you’ve been itchin’ to get back to your writing, so I figured now’s as good a time as any.”
Dot walked over to the desk, running her fingers over the smooth surface. The wood was polished to a rich sheen, the craftsmanship solid and precise. She couldn’t help but smile, touched by the effort Joel had put into creating this space for her.
“It’s beautiful, Joel,” she said softly, looking up at him. “Thank you.”
Joel’s smile widened, and he reached out to gently touch her arm. “You’re welcome, darlin’. I just want you to take it easy. You’ve been workin’ hard around here, and I thought maybe it’s time you did somethin’ for yourself. Read a bit, write if you feel like it.”
Dot felt a warmth spread through her chest, a mixture of gratitude and something else, something that made her heart race a little faster when Joel was near. She had noticed it more and more lately—the way her eyes would linger on him when he worked around the farm, the way her pulse quickened whenever he smiled at her. Joel was older, yes, but he was strong, his body still fit and toned from years of hard work. And despite the gruff exterior, there was a kindness in him, a gentleness that drew her in.
As she sat down at the desk, Dot looked up at Joel, her gaze lingering on the way his shirt stretched across his broad shoulders. “You didn’t have to do all this, you know,” she said, her voice soft.
“I wanted to,” Joel replied simply, his eyes meeting hers. “You’ve brought a lot of life back into this house, Dot. Just tryin’ to return the favor.”
Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the room seemed to grow warmer, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Dot felt her cheeks flush, and she quickly looked down at the typewriter, her fingers brushing over the keys.
“I’ll try to get back to writing,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “It’s been a while, but I miss it.”
Joel nodded, his hand resting on the back of her chair. “No rush, darlin’. Just take your time. The desk’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”
Dot smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection. “Thank you, Joel. Really.”
He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back, a quiet, thoughtful look in his eyes. “You’re welcome.”
As the days passed, Dot found herself spending more time in her new office space, occasionally writing but mostly just enjoying the comfort of the room Joel had created for her. It felt like a small sanctuary, a place where she could relax and let her mind wander. But as her belly grew, so did the aches and pains that came with carrying a child. Joel noticed it too, the way she winced when she stood up too quickly or how she shifted in her chair, trying to find a more comfortable position.
One evening, after dinner, Joel found Dot in the living room, her hand pressed to the small of her back as she stretched, trying to relieve the tension that had settled there. He watched her for a moment, concern etched in his features, before stepping forward.
“Back botherin’ you again?” he asked, his voice gentle.
Dot nodded, sighing softly as she tried to ease the pain. “Yeah, it’s been aching all day. I can’t seem to get comfortable no matter what I do.”
Without a word, Joel moved behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her to sit down on the edge of the couch. Dot looked up at him in surprise, but he just offered her a small, reassuring smile.
“Let me see if I can help,” he said, his voice low and soothing.
Dot hesitated for a moment, then nodded, letting herself relax as Joel’s hands moved to her back. His touch was firm but careful, his fingers kneading the muscles that had tightened from carrying the weight of the baby. Dot closed her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the tension began to melt away under his skilled hands.
“That feel better?” Joel asked, his voice close to her ear.
Dot nodded, her eyes still closed. “Much better. Thank you, Joel.”
“Anytime, darlin’,” he replied, his voice warm.
As Joel continued to massage her back, Dot couldn’t help but notice how close they were, how his breath tickled the back of her neck, sending shivers down her spine. She felt her heart begin to race again, a flutter of nervous excitement in her chest. When had she started to feel this way about him? And did he feel the same?
Joel’s hands moved lower, working out the knots that had formed along her spine, and Dot bit her lip to keep from letting out a contented sigh. She didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want to lose the warmth of his touch. But as his hands stilled, she felt a pang of disappointment.
“All done,” Joel said softly, his hands resting gently on her lower back.
Dot opened her eyes, feeling a flush of warmth in her cheeks as she turned to look at him. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice catching slightly.
Joel’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Dot’s gaze flickered to his lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him, to feel that closeness she had been craving. But before she could act on the impulse, Joel pulled back slightly, clearing his throat as he stepped away.
“Glad I could help,” he said, his voice a little rough.
Dot smiled, trying to shake off the lingering tension. “You did. I feel much better.”
Joel nodded, the warmth in his eyes still there, but tempered by something else, something cautious. “You should get some rest, darlin’. It’s been a long day.”
Dot nodded, standing up slowly, her hand resting on her bump. “I will. Goodnight, Joel.”
“Goodnight, darlin’,” Joel replied, his voice soft as he watched her head toward the stairs.
As Dot climbed the stairs to her room, she couldn’t help but wonder if Joel had felt the same pull she had, that magnetic attraction that had been growing between them. And as she lay in bed that night, her thoughts were filled with the memory of his touch, the way his hands had felt on her back, so warm and strong. She didn’t know where this was leading, but she knew one thing for certain—she was no longer afraid of it.
-
The next few days passed in a blur of routine and quiet moments, but the tension between Joel and Dot continued to build. It was in the way their hands brushed when they passed each other a tool, the way Joel’s gaze lingered on her a little too long when he thought she wasn’t looking. And Dot, for her part, found herself stealing glances at him whenever she could, admiring the way his muscles moved under his shirt as he worked, the strength and solidity of him.
One afternoon, as the sun was beginning to set, Joel found Dot sitting on the porch, her feet propped up on the railing as she watched the colors of the sky shift from blue to pink to orange. He approached quietly, his hands in his pockets, and sat down beside her.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dot said softly, not taking her eyes off the horizon.
“Sure is,” Joel agreed, though his gaze was fixed on her. “How’re you feelin’, darlin’?”
Dot turned to him, her heart fluttering at the concern in his eyes. “I’m alright. Tired, but alright.”
Joel nodded, his hand reaching out to rest on hers. “You’ve been doin’ a lot. You should take it easy.”
Dot looked down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat. “I know. I just… I don’t like sitting still for too long.”
Joel chuckled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “I can tell. But you need to rest up, especially with our baby coming soon. You’ve been workin’ hard, and I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”
Dot smiled at his concern, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. “I promise I’ll try to take it easy. It’s just… I like being busy. It helps keep my mind off things.”
Joel’s gaze softened, and he shifted closer to her, their shoulders almost touching. “I get that, darlin’. But you don’t have to carry everything on your own. I’m here, remember?”
Dot looked up at him, her breath catching in her throat at the closeness of his face, the sincerity in his eyes. “I know, Joel. And I’m grateful for that. More than you know.”
For a moment, they sat in silence, the air between them thick with unspoken words. Dot’s heart raced as she looked at him, her thoughts a jumble of emotions she wasn’t sure how to express. She knew she was attracted to him, drawn to his strength, his kindness, the way he made her feel safe and cared for. But there was more to it than that—something deeper, something that scared and excited her in equal measure.
Joel’s hand tightened slightly on hers, and she saw the same uncertainty in his eyes, the same hesitance. But then, as if some unspoken agreement passed between them, he leaned in, closing the small distance between them.
The kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if they were both testing the waters. Dot’s heart pounded in her chest, her lips tingling with the warmth of his. She felt a rush of emotions—relief, excitement, and something that felt a lot like hope. She let herself lean into the kiss, her free hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips.
Joel responded by deepening the kiss, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her skin. There was a tenderness in his touch, a carefulness that made her feel cherished, wanted. Dot sighed softly against his lips, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she let herself get lost in the moment.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they tried to steady their racing hearts. Joel’s hand remained on her cheek, his thumb still caressing her skin, as if he couldn’t bear to break the contact.
“Dot…” Joel began, his voice husky, full of emotion he couldn’t quite put into words.
Dot opened her eyes, looking up at him with a mixture of affection and longing. “Joel, I…”
He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over her lips, silencing her. “You don’t have to say anything, darlin’. I just… I wanted you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”
Dot felt a tear slip down her cheek, but it wasn’t one of sadness—it was one of relief, of joy at knowing that the feelings she had been wrestling with were shared. “I care about you too, Joel. More than I ever thought I could.”
Joel’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss her again, this time with more confidence, more certainty. The kiss was sweeter, filled with the promise of something new, something neither of them had expected but both of them wanted.
As the kiss deepened, Dot felt a warmth spread through her, pooling in her belly and radiating out to every part of her body. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted this, needed this, until now. She let herself sink into the sensation, into the safety of Joel’s arms, feeling a sense of rightness that had been missing for so long.
When they finally pulled apart again, Joel rested his forehead against hers, his breath coming in soft, warm puffs against her skin. “Dot, I don’t want to rush you, but… I want you to know that I’m here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
Dot smiled, her heart full as she looked into his eyes. “I know, Joel. And I’m not going anywhere either.”
They sat there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the world outside the porch fading away. It was just them, and it felt like the beginning of something they both needed.
“Maybe we should head inside,” Joel suggested softly, his hand still cradling her cheek.
Dot nodded, her breath catching as she saw the unspoken question in his eyes. She knew what he was asking, what he was hoping for, and she found herself wanting it too, more than anything.
Joel stood up first, offering her his hand, and she took it without hesitation, letting him pull her to her feet. They walked into the house together, the warmth of the living room wrapping around them as they crossed the threshold.
Joel hesitated for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at her as if to make sure she was still with him. Dot smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand, and that was all the encouragement he needed.
They climbed the stairs slowly, the anticipation building with each step, until they reached the landing where their bedrooms were. Joel paused outside her door, his hand still holding hers as he turned to face her.
“Dot… are you sure?” he asked, his voice soft, almost hesitant.
Dot nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m sure, Joel.”
That was all he needed to hear. Joel opened the door to her room and led her inside, closing it softly behind them. The room was dimly lit, the curtains drawn, casting a warm, intimate glow over the space. Joel turned to her, his eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire, and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.
He stepped closer, his hands coming up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing gently over her cheeks. “I want this to be right for you, darlin’. I want you to feel safe, loved.”
Dot smiled, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I do, Joel. I’ve never felt safer.”
With that, Joel leaned in and kissed her again, his lips warm and inviting. This time, the kiss was more urgent, more passionate, and Dot found herself responding with equal fervor. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against her.
Joel’s hands moved down her sides, gently caressing every curve of her body, lingering over the gentle swell of her belly. Dot shivered under his touch, a mixture of anticipation and desire coursing through her. The tension that had been building between them for weeks was finally coming to a head, and she could feel the heat rising between them.
Joel leaned in, pressing soft kisses along her neck, his breath warm against her skin. As his lips moved lower, he began to undo the buttons of her dress, taking his time with each one, revealing more of her skin with every soft press of his lips. Dot’s breath hitched as he bared her shoulders, the cool air contrasting with the warmth of his touch. She reached up, running her fingers through his hair, encouraging him to continue.
As her dress fell to the floor, Joel’s hands traced the curve of her belly, his touch reverent, as if he were worshiping the life growing inside her. He dropped to his knees, his lips following the path his hands had taken, pressing gentle kisses to the swell of her abdomen. Dot’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him, the sight of him on his knees before her, his hands and lips so tender, filling her with a deep, overwhelming emotion.
Joel looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire. “You’re so beautiful, Dot,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I can’t get enough of you.”
Dot’s heart fluttered at his words, and she tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against hers. Joel stood, quickly shedding his clothes, his eyes never leaving hers. As he stepped out of his breeches, his cock sprang free, thick and ready, and Dot felt a rush of heat flood her body at the sight of him.
Joel reached for her again, his hands sliding down her back to undo the last fastenings of her undergarments, letting them drop to the floor. He pulled her close, his hands running up and down her back, feeling the softness of her skin, the warmth of her body against his. Dot leaned into him, her breasts pressing against his chest, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she felt his hardness against her belly.
He guided her gently to the bed, laying her down on the soft sheets, his eyes drinking in the sight of her laid out before him. Dot’s heart raced as she watched him, her anticipation building with every second. Joel knelt beside her, his hands running along her thighs, gently spreading her legs as he settled between them. His eyes were fixed on hers as he leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive skin just above her knee, kissing a slow path up her thigh.
Dot gasped as his lips moved higher, his breath warm against her skin, sending shivers of pleasure through her. When he finally reached the apex of her thighs, he paused, his hands gently holding her hips as he looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire.
“Joel…” Dot whispered, her voice trembling with need.
“I got you, darlin’.”
Without another word, Joel lowered his head between her thighs, his tongue slipping between her folds, finding the sensitive bud at her center. Dot cried out, her hips jerking at the sudden surge of pleasure, but Joel held her steady, his hands firm on her hips as he continued his ministrations. His tongue moved in slow, deliberate strokes, exploring her with a skill and tenderness that left her breathless.
Dot’s hands clenched the sheets as her big belly wouldn’t let her hold on to the thick of Joel’s salt & pepper hair, her back arching as the pleasure built inside her, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Joel’s mouth was relentless, his tongue working her with a steady rhythm that drove her closer and closer to the edge. And when he added his fingers, sliding them inside her with a gentle but insistent pressure, pressing on her back wall over and over again, Dot’s control shattered. She came with a cry, her body shaking with the intensity of it, her thighs trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Joel didn’t stop, didn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working her through her climax, until she was left panting and spent, her body melting into the bed. When he finally lifted his head, his lips glistening with her arousal, Dot could only look at him in dazed wonder, her heart pounding in her chest.
“Joel… that was…” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“I know… so good, darlin’... you taste so good.”
He smiled at her, a satisfied, almost smug look in his eyes as he moved up her body, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Dot moaned into his mouth, tasting herself on his lips, her body still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him against her.
As Joel positioned himself between her legs, he paused, his hand resting on her belly, his eyes searching hers. “Are you okay, darlin’? Is this okay?”
Dot nodded, her hand covering his on her belly. “Yes, Joel. I need you. Please.”
With a groan of desire, Joel pushed into her, filling her slowly, letting her adjust to the size of him. Dot gasped at the sensation, the fullness, the heat of him inside her, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Joel’s grip on her hips tightened as he began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers.
Dot’s breath hitched as he filled her again and again, her body responding to his with a need she hadn’t realized she had. The weight of him, the strength in his arms as he held her close, the way his hips moved against hers—it was all too much, and yet not enough. She needed more, needed him to take her higher, to push her over the edge again.
“Joel… please,” she begged, her voice trembling with need.
Joel’s eyes darkened with desire, and he shifted, pulling her hips up slightly so he could go deeper, his movements becoming more urgent, more insistent. Dot cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders as she felt herself being pushed closer and closer to the edge.
When she came again, it was with a cry of his name, her body tightening around him, pulling him deeper as she shattered beneath him. Joel groaned, his hips bucking as he found his own release, his cock pulsing inside her as he spilled into her, his hands holding her hips in a bruising grip.
They stayed like that for a moment, their bodies still joined, their breaths coming in ragged gasps. Joel’s hand moved to her belly again, caressing the curve of it, his eyes filled with a tender, almost possessive emotion.
“Our baby,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
She smiled up at him, her hand coming to rest over his on her belly. “I love you, Joel.”
“I love you too, darlin’,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “More than I ever thought possible.”
He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back slightly, his eyes still fixed on hers. “You’re everything to me, Dot. Everything.”
Dot’s heart swelled with love for the man above her, the man who had become her partner, her lover, the father of her child. No questions asked. As they lay together, their bodies still entwined, she knew that this was where she belonged, with Joel, with their baby, in this home they had built together.
They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten for a little while.
-
The weeks that followed their first night together were some of the happiest Dot had ever known. The intimacy they had discovered that night became a regular part of their lives, a natural extension of the deepening bond between them. Joel was attentive, always careful with her, mindful of her growing belly and the changes her body was going through as her pregnancy progressed.
They quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm, their days filled with the familiar routines of farm life, and their nights spent wrapped up in each other. The physical connection they had discovered only grew stronger, and it wasn’t long before they found themselves stealing moments together whenever they could—whether it was a slow morning in bed, a quick encounter in the barn, or a quiet evening in the living room after dinner.
One lazy Sunday morning, Dot woke to the feel of Joel’s hand resting on her belly, his thumb gently brushing over the swell of it. She smiled, still half-asleep, and snuggled closer to him, her back pressing against his chest.
“Mornin’, darlin’,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with sleep as he nuzzled the back of her neck.
“Morning,” Dot replied, her voice soft and content.
They had started sharing a bed shortly after their first time together, the master bedroom becoming their shared sanctuary. It was a decision that had felt natural, as if it was always meant to be this way. Joel had taken to sleeping with his hand on her belly, his touch a constant reassurance that he was there, that they were in this together.
Dot turned in his arms, facing him, and leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Sleep well?”
Joel grinned, his hand sliding down to rest on her hip. “Always do when I’m with you.”
Their kisses deepened, a slow burn igniting between them as their bodies pressed closer together. Despite the growing weight of her pregnancy, Dot found herself craving Joel more and more, and he was always eager to oblige. He was careful, always mindful of her condition, but there was no mistaking the hunger in his touch, the desire that flared between them whenever they were close.
They made love slowly, lazily, taking their time to savor each other, the morning light filtering through the curtains and casting a warm glow over their entwined bodies. Joel was gentle, his hands and lips worshiping her, his every movement careful and deliberate. Dot arched into him, her breath hitching as he filled her, the familiar sensation sending a shiver of pleasure through her.
“Joel…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need.
He responded with a low groan, his hands gripping her hips as he rocked into her, his gaze never leaving hers. Dot felt the tension building inside her, the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, sending her tumbling over the edge. She cried out his name, her hands clutching at his shoulders as waves of pleasure washed over her.
Joel followed soon after, his own release crashing through him as he buried his face in her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin. They stayed like that for a long moment, their bodies still joined, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the room.
Finally, Joel pulled back slightly, his hand gently caressing her belly as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “You okay, darlin’?”
Dot smiled up at him, her heart swelling with love for the man above her. “I’m perfect,” she whispered, her voice filled with contentment.
They spent the rest of the morning in bed, talking quietly, sharing soft kisses, and basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. It was a morning like so many others they had shared since they had decided to fully commit to each other, a morning that felt like the calm before the storm.
It was later that afternoon when the storm finally hit.
Joel was outside, repairing a fence near the barn, when he noticed the familiar truck of his father-in-law, Reverend Hargrove pulling up the long gravel driveway. Straightening up, Joel wiped the sweat from his brow and set his tools aside, watching as the reverend stepped out of the truck, holding something in his hand. There was a certain tension in the older man’s posture that immediately put Joel on edge.
“Afternoon, Reverend,” Joel greeted as he approached, his tone polite but guarded.
“Afternoon, Joel,” the reverend replied, offering a tight smile. He hesitated for a moment, glancing toward the house. “Is Dot around? I’ve got something here for her.”
Joel frowned slightly but nodded. “She’s inside. You wanna come in? Have a cup of coffee with us?”
The reverend shook his head, a look of regret passing over his face. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to take a rain check. I just wanted to drop this off. I’ll see you both this weekend for Thanksgiving.”
He handed Joel a letter, and Joel’s heart sank as he read the sender’s name on the envelope. Carson. The knot of anxiety that had been building in his chest tightened, and he felt a wave of anger begin to rise. He nodded curtly, his jaw clenched as he accepted the letter.
“Thanks for bringing this by,” Joel said, his voice strained.
The reverend gave him a concerned look, sensing the tension. “Everything alright, Joel?”
Joel forced a tight smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. We’ll see you this weekend.”
The reverend nodded, though he didn’t look entirely convinced. He gave Joel a final pat on the shoulder before turning to head back to his truck. Joel watched him go, his grip on the letter tightening as the sound of the truck’s engine faded into the distance. The moment the reverend was out of sight, Joel turned and stalked back to the house, the anger simmering just below the surface.
When he stepped into the living room, he found Dot standing by her desk, arching her back and rubbing the base of her spine with one hand under her almost due belly. She looked around when she heard him enter, her expression brightening when she saw him.
“Hey, Joel,” she said, smiling softly.
“Dot,” Joel replied, his voice tight as he held up the envelope. “This came for you.”
Dot’s smile faltered as she saw the envelope, confusion knitting her brows together. “Who’s it from?”
“Carson,” Joel said, his tone clipped, barely containing his frustration.
Dot’s breath caught in her throat as she stared at the name on the envelope, her heart skipping a beat. Carson. She hadn’t thought about him in months, not since she had agreed to marry Joel and start a new life on the farm. But seeing his name now, written out in neat, familiar handwriting, brought back a flood of memories she had long since buried.
She reached out to take the envelope, her hands trembling slightly. Joel watched her closely, his jaw tight, his eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else—something more vulnerable, more afraid.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Joel spat out, his voice rising as the emotions he had been trying to suppress began to spill over. “After all this time? After everything we’ve built together, now he decides to write?”
Dot flinched at the intensity of his tone, her heart aching as she saw the pain and anger in his eyes. “Joel, I—”
“He’s the father, Dot,” Joel interrupted, his voice laced with bitterness. “He’s the real father of this baby. Maybe this is what you’ve been waiting for, huh? A way out. Maybe now you can finally go back to the big city, to the life you really wanted.”
Dot’s eyes widened in shock, tears welling up as she realized just how deeply Joel’s fear of abandonment ran. “Joel, no, that’s not—”
“Isn’t it?” Joel cut her off, his voice growing louder, more frantic. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it. Your typewriter’s been gathering dust, you haven’t written a damn thing since you got here. Maybe you miss the city, maybe you miss that life. Hell, maybe you miss him.”
Dot’s hand tightened on the letter, her heart breaking as she saw the hurt and anger in Joel’s eyes, ignoring the growing pressure at the base of her belly. But she didn’t sob, didn’t let the tears fall or the pain show. Instead, she took a deep breath, trying to steady herself as she scanned the contents of the letter. As she read the words, a bitter chuckle escaped her lips, and she tossed the letter aside, shaking her head.
“Joel,” she called quietly to him, her voice trembling with both anger and sadness.
But Joel wasn’t listening. He was too far gone, his anger and fear clouding his judgment, making it impossible for him to hear the reassurance in her words.
“Maybe you miss him…” Joel snapped, his voice harsh as he paced the room, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Maybe he’s just waiting for the right moment to swoop in and take you away, take everything we’ve built together.”
Dot shook her head, tears spilling over but still refusing to sob, refusing to let herself fall apart. “Joel, listen to me. I’m not going anywhere. I chose this life. Carson is in the past.”
But Joel was too deep in his own pain to hear her, his voice rising in desperation. “How can I believe that? How do I know you won’t just leave the moment things get tough? How do I know this isn’t what you’ve wanted all along?”
Dot’s heart ached at his words, the accusations cutting deeper than she had ever thought possible. “Because I chose you–I keep on choosing you every day, I–” But before she could say anything more, a sharp pain shot through her abdomen, doubling her over with a gasp.
“Dot?” Joel’s voice immediately shifted from anger to concern, his eyes widening as he saw the pain on her face. “What’s wrong?”
Dot’s eyes went wide as she felt a sudden rush of fluid between her legs, her heart pounding with realization. “Joel… my water just broke.”
For a moment, the room was silent, the gravity of the situation crashing down on them both. Then, in unison, they both cursed.
“Shit!”
Joel sprang into action, his anger forgotten as he rushed to Dot’s side, wrapping his arms around her to support her as she tried to steady herself.
“Alright, darlin’, it’s okay,” Joel said, his voice calm but urgent as he guided her toward the door but she wouldn’t move. “We’re gonna get you to the clinic. Just breathe, okay?”
Dot shook her head, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the pain intensified. “Joel… there’s no time. I can feel the head.”
Joel’s eyes widened in panic, but he quickly masked it, his focus shifting entirely to Dot and their baby. “Shit… okay, okay, we’ll do this here. We’ll do this right here.”
Dot nodded again, her body trembling as another contraction hit, stronger than the last. He glanced around the room, his eyes landing on the sturdy oak table he had made for her, where her typewriter now sat. Joel guided her back to her oak desk, her grip on his arm tight as she struggled to breathe through the pain.
“Here, darlin’, hold onto the table,” Joel instructed, helping her to lean against it. “I’ve got you. I’m right here.”
Dot did as he said, gripping the edge of the table with one hand while the other clung to his arm. She could feel the pressure building, the baby moving lower with each contraction, and she knew there was no turning back now.
“How long?” He asked her.
“Two days,” She gasped out and he cursed out.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked her.
“I thought it was just normal… just the discomfort… but…” Dot admitted through gritted teeth, her voice strained with the effort of speaking.
Joel’s heart ached with guilt as he realized she had been in pain all this time, trying to bear it alone. “I’m sorry, Dot,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry…”
Dot nodded, her breath coming in sharp, shallow gasps as she felt another contraction rip through her. She braced herself against the table, her knees buckling as the pain intensified, her body urging her to push.
“I can’t… I can’t do this,” Dot cried, her voice breaking as the fear and pain overwhelmed her.
“Yes, you can,” Joel said firmly, his voice filled with determination as he positioned himself behind her, his hands gently supporting her hips. “You’re the strongest woman I know, Dot. You can do this. You’re not alone. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
Dot’s breath hitched at his words, and she nodded, “Joel I think I can feel the head.”
Joel wasted no time, getting on his knees, hiking up her skirt and pulling down her underwear. She was bulging, the head heavily sat behind her folds. She could feel the baby beginning to emerge into a crow, the intense pressure and pain making it almost impossible to think, but she focused on Joel’s voice, on his steady, reassuring presence beside her.
“Alright, darlin’, you need to push,” Joel instructed, his voice calm but urgent. “You can do this. I’ve got you.”
Dot took a deep breath, bracing herself against the table as she bore down, pushing with all her might. The pain was intense, a searing, tearing sensation that left her gasping for breath, but she kept going, kept pushing, Joel’s voice in her ear, his hands steadying her as she fought to bring their baby into the world.
“That’s it, Dot,” Joel encouraged, his voice filled with awe and pride as he watched their child begin to emerge. “You’re doing so good. Just a little more, darlin’, you’re almost there. Breathe, darlin’, breathe…”
Dot’s breathing grew more erratic, her body trembling as another powerful contraction ripped through her. She clung to the edge of the table, her knuckles white, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps.
“Hoo… hoo… haa… haa…” Dot panted, trying to focus on her breathing, trying to stay calm even as the pain intensified. “Joel… it’s too big… I can’t… I can’t do this…”
“Yes, you can, darlin’,” Joel reassured her, his voice strong and steady as he supported her, his hands firm on her hips. “You’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, keep pushing. You’ve got this.”
Dot moaned, the pain overwhelming her as she felt the baby moving lower, the pressure almost unbearable. “It hurts… it hurts so much…”
“I know, I know, darlin’,” Joel whispered, his heart aching as he watched her struggle. “But you’re almost there. Just a little more, and our baby will be here. You’re so strong, Dot. You can do this.”
Dot nodded, tears streaming down her face as she took another deep breath, her voice trembling as she whimpered, “Hoo… hoo… Jooooeeeel!”
With a deep, primal groan, Dot bore down again, pushing with all her might, the pain searing through her like fire. “It’s too big… oh God, it’s too big…”
Joel’s hands tightened on her hips, his voice filled with awe as he saw the baby’s head emerging. “You’re doing it, Dot. I can see the head. Just one more big push, darlin’. You’re almost there.”
Dot cried out, her body shaking with the effort as she pushed again, harder this time, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The pain was excruciating, the pressure almost too much to bear, but she kept going, kept pushing, determined to bring their child into the world.
“Haa… haa… haa…” Dot panted, her voice a mix of desperation and determination as she felt the baby’s head begin to fully crown. She gritted her teeth, her entire body trembling as she bore down once more, the intensity of the pain nearly blinding her.
Finally, with one last, agonizing push, Dot felt the baby’s head slip-free, the sudden relief mingling with the lingering pain. She gasped for breath, her body shaking with exhaustion, but she didn’t stop, didn’t let herself rest.
“You’re almost there, darlin’,” Joel encouraged, his voice filled with emotion as he supported her. “Just one more push, and the shoulders will be out. You’re so close, Dot. You’re so close.”
Dot nodded, tears streaming down her face as she gathered all her strength for one final push. She bore down with everything she had, a primal scream tearing from her throat as she felt the baby’s shoulders slip free, followed by the rest of the tiny body. The overwhelming relief and release left her trembling and gasping for breath.
Joel’s hands were there, steady and sure, catching their child as the baby entered the world. He let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding with a mix of relief and awe as he cradled the tiny, squirming body in his hands. The baby let out a loud, feisty cry, its voice filling the room, a sound that brought tears to Joel’s eyes.
“You did it, Dot,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he looked up at her, his eyes shining with love and pride. “You did it, darlin’. Our baby… our beautiful baby.”
Dot collapsed against the table, her body trembling with exhaustion, but a soft, tired smile crossed her lips as she heard the baby’s cries. She turned to look at Joel, her heart swelling with love and relief as she saw him cradling their child, his eyes filled with tears of joy.
“Hi, baby,” Dot whispered, her voice trembling with emotion as she held out her arms for the baby. “Hi there, little one. You’re finally here.”
Joel carefully wrapped the baby in the throw blanket from the couch, gently placing the tiny bundle in Dot’s arms. She looked down at their child, tears streaming down her face as she traced a finger over the baby’s soft cheek, marveling at the tiny, perfect features.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Dot cooed, her voice filled with love as she held the baby close, feeling the warmth and weight of their child in her arms. “You’re so beautiful… so perfect…”
Joel’s heart swelled with love and pride as he watched Dot cradle their baby, the sight of them together filling him with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and awe. He pressed a soft kiss to Dot’s temple, his voice thick with emotion as he whispered, “I love you, Dot. I love you so much.”
Dot smiled up at him, her eyes shining with tears as she whispered back, “I love you too, Joel. So much.”
They stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, in the new life they had created together. The argument, the fear, and the pain of the past few hours melted away, leaving only love, only the overwhelming joy of holding their child in their arms.
As the baby continued to cry, Dot felt another wave of contractions rip through her, the pain sharp and sudden. She gasped, her body tensing as she realized what was happening. “Joel… the after birth… it’s coming…”
Joel’s eyes widened in realization, and he quickly moved to support her, his hands steadying her as she pushed once more, the placenta slipping free with a rush of fluid. Dot let out a shaky breath, her body trembling with exhaustion as she finally collapsed against the table, spent and drained.
“You did it, darlin’,” Joel whispered, his voice filled with awe as he gently cleaned her up, his hands tender as he worked. “You did so good… you’re amazing, Dot.”
Joel carried his wife into the guest bedroom next to the kitchen, laying down several blankets for Dot to lay out on as he cleaned her and the baby up. He took the scissors from the kitchen and, with trembling hands, cut the umbilical cord, severing the final connection between Dot and the baby. He couldn’t help the tears that welled up in his eyes as he looked down at their child, a feeling of overwhelming love washing over him.
“Welcome to the world, little one,” Joel whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he gently kissed the baby’s forehead. “You’re so loved… so, so loved…”
Dot watched him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the man who had been by her side through everything. She reached out and touched his arm, her voice soft and filled with emotion as she said, “Joel… thank you… for everything…”
Joel turned to her, his eyes filled with tears as he knelt beside her, his hand gently cupping her cheek. “Don’t thank me, darlin’. I’m the one who’s grateful… for you… for this beautiful life we’ve created together.”
Dot smiled, tears streaming down her face as she looked down at their baby, the love she felt for both of them overwhelming her. “I couldn’t have done it without you,” she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.
Joel leaned in and kissed her softly, his lips lingering on hers as he whispered, “I’m so lucky to have you, Dot. So damn lucky… Please, don’t ever leave me. Don’t take our son away from me. I can’t lose you… either of you…”
Dot’s heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice, and she shook her head, her voice filled with love and reassurance as she whispered back, “I’m not going anywhere, Joel. This is where I belong. With you… with our son… with our family…”
“But Carson…”
“Carson wrote to congratulate me. Congratulate us and our baby...”
Joel let out a shaky breath, his tears mingling with hers as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he whispered, “Thank you, Dot… thank you for giving me this… for giving me everything I never thought I could have again…”
Dot smiled through her tears, her heart overflowing with love for the man who had become her partner, her lover, the father of her child. “I love you, Joel… more than I can ever say…”
Joel kissed her again, his lips tender and filled with all the love he felt for her. “I love you too, Dot… so damn much… And I want more of this… more babies… more life with you…”
Dot let out a soft chuckle, her tears mingling with her laughter as she looked up at him, her eyes shining with love and joy. “More babies, huh?”
Joel grinned, his own tears spilling over as he nodded, his voice filled with hope and longing as he whispered, “Yeah… more babies… a whole house full of them…”
Dot laughed softly, her heart bursting with happiness as she leaned into him, her voice filled with love as she whispered, “I’d like that, Joel… I’d like that a lot…”
They stayed like that, holding each other, holding their son, the future stretching out before them, filled with love, hope, and the promise of more life to come.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedropascal#pedro pascal cinematic universe#pedro pascal fan fiction#joel miller#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal fan fic#pedrohub#pedro pascal x reader
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Dating Evan Buckley Headcannons💕
Mostly SFW but a couple of NSFW
SFW
He gets jump-scared easily so you love to scare him
Like those compilations of people constantly scaring their spouses is totally something you would do
Whether that be yelling when he comes around a corner or hiding underneath the bed to grab his ankle. And it never fails to make you laugh until you pee
He’s so dramatic it’s insane
Like flopping onto every available surface like a faintly Victorian woman with that cute little pout of his
Puppy dog eyes GALORE
He will try and guilt you into things (like wanting to do something for you without your involvement so you can relax) with those goddamn eyes and fuck if it doesn’t work every. single. time.
He loves having you in the kitchen while he’s cooking/baking-as long as you’re not in his way
Luckily for him you’re much more content to just sit on the counter and watch him cook. Inbetween tasks dragging him between your legs for a quick smooch
He gets you tattoo pens so you can straddle his waist while he lays down and draw him new tattoos, usually incorporating his lightning scars-kissing all the while
He loves looking up at your focussed face and loves the feeling of being beneath you. He also loves the feel of your hands on him no matter what you're doing. 3/4 of the time this leads to sex
Occasionally you’ll do his makeup (you’ll always do his skincare) and you always make sure to accentuate his birthmark
The first time you did, all you had was a glittery pink and when you showed him, he hugged you and cried-no one had ever seen him before the way you did
You love finding new nicknames to call him or ways to hit on him that make him blush and stutter
You greeted him one time with a small “hi gorgeous” and he stuttered so bad he just walked away
“Gorgeous”, “baby boy”, “sweet boy”, “stunning”, “sweetheart/ness”, “blue eyed wonder”, “firehose”, “pumpkin”, “honey” literally anything and everything, progressively getting more wild at times just to make him laugh and blush
Buck absolutely has some kind of slutty thigh tattoo (I have nothing else to add to this but I feel like I should share)
He finds it strangely endearing at the amount of time/effort you put into doing physical therapy for his leg, even years after the accident
Plus, always making sure to put sunscreen on him as well as ointment for his scars because you know he’ll forget
Doing hair masks and getting new products for him to protect/define his curls
He's such a cuddle bug it can get annoying on hotter nights but you love him too much to move him
He doesn't mind being big spoon or little spoon but most of the time he pretty much just lays on top of you, having thrown himself over you haphazardly as if to protect you in his sleep
He loves it when he reads to you because you'll play with his hair till you fall asleep, AND he gets to yap to his favorite person.
Because he has adhd, when he reads to you he’ll get distracted and go off topic at some point and just winds up becoming a personal podcast
NSFW
PRAISE KINK
He’s such a vocal bitch
Moaning and groaning constantly, he loves to let you hear him
When drawing on him turns into sex, he LOVES to mark your body with hickeys the way you marked his with ink
He is such a muncher
Like actually drowning himself in your cunt ‘cause he refuses to come up before you come til you physically can't anymore
He likes to tease you until you're begging him to fuck you
He LOVES when you scratch your nails through his hair, especially when you pull it harder the closer you get to coming
He takes SO much pride in the scratch marks up and down his back
^hickeys too, much to your embarrassment sometimes
Anytime you wear lingerie, it gets torn to shreds. But its ok because Buck will happily buy you a new pair so long as he gets to do it again
Buck is absolutely a power bottom. He loves to be in charge but he also loves you on top of him
#evan buckley x reader#evan buck buckely#evan buckley#buck buckley#911 x reader#911 fox#911 abc#911 show#118 firefam#buck x reader
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Remember my post about Anakin pulling a Mike Murdock? Yeah, no, I have a full on AU concept now (with contributions by @threebea! indented)!
He lies so hard about having a brother that the universe invents a twin from scratch for him. It happens when Anakin is like twelve.
Anakin was just committing to the bit on a mission because he was bored.
The Force was also bored.
Oh no Anakin force manifests a sibling Obi-Wan: …That's not how the Force works. Anakin: You tell the Force that. Obi-Wan: Well, I suppose this would be your half-brother since the Force is your shared parent. Obi-Wan after the initial shock: This might as well happen.
New brother is better at some things and worse at others, as any person is. Anakin is, naturally, a fucking mess about all that, worries he'll be replaced, etc.
Obi-Wan just brings this to the Council and nobody can DENY this Skywalker from the Jedi after they already took the first one. So. Mace volunteers.
This Skywalker is a bit more Force than Anakin, got glowing eyes and visions and the Animal Communion buff. But is worse at flying, worse at tech, and unfathomably worse at people. Which is a FEAT, since Anakin's not too hot at social skills in the first place.
Mace has his hands full in many ways, including "keep this child from walking face first into the wall."
Obi-Wan: We are not calling him Anagain.
Anakin had many mixed feelings but! If he's going to have family then he's going to commit!
The other option is that the brother is younger by enough that the Older Brother instincts kick in, but I think the one-sided twin rivalry is funnier.
Anakin: I'm a big brother now. Anagain: I think we're supposed to be twins. Anakin: I have more worldly experience. Anagain: I'm taller. Anakin: wut Anagain: alpha twin alpha twin (that's his nickname until you come up with actual name lol) Obi-Wan: Well, I'm taller than both of you, and while that is the case you both need to listen to me. Anagain: (flash of foresight) So, not for long Obi-Wan: What? Anagain: Nothing. Mace: (the Shatterpoints are blinding) Yeah, I'll be taking this one. More seriously tho, Anakin definitely torn between what if everyone likes him better he's born from the force what if he's the chosen one what if and also: I have a brother I have family I need to take care of him. Probably some fun twin force bond too. Oh man Sheev after digesting all of that would definitely try to get some jealousy going.
Anakin talks about the new brother with terms like Freshly Hatched and Innocent Baby and it's mostly a joke except that now HE thinks Palps is a creep when it's aimed at Not Him.
Palpatine: When do I get to meet him? Anakin: [absolutely not] Mace won't let him [Yeah that'll work] Mace: Yeah, absolutely not, he didn't help save Naboo there's no reason for my Padawan to have a relationship with the Supreme Chancellor
I've decided to call the brother Aion (EY-yon). I like the whole thing about Anakin's name being based on Ananke, even if it's a disputed thing, so I go for Greek myth when doing alt names for siblings.
Mace still bitter about having to let Palps get time with Anakin not about to do the same if he can help it. Although that comic takes place later eh (handwaves) still The Jedi might try to be hush hush about where aion came from anyway since he would fall directly under Jedi business
Help I'm imagining Mace and Obi-Wan on a walk and the twins are on child leashes. Anakin because ADHD will have him trying to run off to look at something. And Aion because he's going to be so distracted by visions that he will walk into traffic.
"Can we send a letter to mom so she knows he exists?" The other thought was ANAKIN holding the child leash for Aion, and then Obi-Wan or Mace holding the one for Anakin. Lil chain.
Aion: Hey… I know I've only existed for a few months, and yes my memories of before are sort of built by the Force, but I'm pretty sure the Supreme Chancellor is evil. Mace: You saw that in a vision? Aion: No, he's just super creepy. Bad vibes.
Obi-Wan: Of course he's evil, he's a career politician. Anakin: What about your friend from Alderaan? Obi-Wan: That's different.
One of these boys is constantly zoning out. The other is smiling, but the smile contains murder.
They're both adhd but with wildly different sides of it.
EXACTLY
Also.
Aion: [silent, a bit upset but mostly chill] Anakin, holding his hand: He asked for no pickles!
#aion skywalker#original characters#star wars#anakin skywalker#obi wan kenobi#mace windu#the force#sheev palpatine#phoenix posts
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COMFY BIRDY
A/n: OVER A MONTH WITH NO FICS ON HERE! MY BAD!
Neurotic, ADHD, depression, finishing other shows, writing other stuff on my other platforms, writers block, etc.
Imma still working on new stuff at snail's place though so there's still hope!
Now period stuff helps even when it's hell.
AU Keigo Takami/Hawks x Fem Adult Reader, already established relationship, period stuff kinda, implied mature stuff.
*PLEASE DON'T REPOST PLAGARIZE STEAL COPY MODIFY AND/OR TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. RATHER REBLOG LIKE COMMENT AND FOLLOW PLS N THNX U.
A rare day for you to be out.
You wanted some fresh air.
That and you were out on a mission.
Drooping into the nearby merch store, your emotionally hormonal self searched for something in particular.
You needed something soft to squeeze on.
In the grand shop, multiple rows of displays featured merch from all walks of media surrounded you.
You spotted your target area in the far back.
Tsums, round pillows, and varying sized plushies.
From the students to even the villains.
Yet as you skimmed through the pro hero plushies, your eyes stopped on the one you wanted.
The one you wished was here in the flesh.
Because right now, you missed your precious birdie.
You were surprised you were unbothered as you sat down on the plush bench seating, lost in murky aching thoughts.
You felt warmth and the mixed scent of the wind and AXE body spray enveloping you from above.
“Eyo. I got your texts.”
Incognito with a hoodie, worn torn jeans and sneakers on, only those familiar folded red wings was the telltale sign aside from that voice.
“Needed my Kei. Plushie form was the backup plan.”
“You're on your period now, right? You shouldn't be pushing yourself too much. You should be relaxing back home and let me pick this up for you on my way back from work.”
The moment you started sniffling and whimpering he stiffened in worry and immediately embraced you. “Hey, what's wrong?”
“I'm a neurotic, emotionally depressed mess, Kei, that's what's wrong!” You weeped in his scarred neck.
He gently rubbed your trembling back and massaged your pulsing scalp, shushing you. “Angel, you're perfect, messy or otherwise.”
“No, I'm not!” You mewled.
“You are to me.”
He jumped as your legs kicked up to rest over his thighs, his chibi pressed between your bellies, as you mewled. “I missed you so much!”
He teared up at that, nuzzling his face into the side of your face showing. “I missed ya too. So, ya want me to buy ya little ol me then?”
You nodded, sniffling, “Yes.”
He pecked your red wet cheek. “How's about some warm chicken soup for dinner?”
You whined. “Ice cream too.”
“M'kay. Anything else?”
“Cuddles, kisses, and binge anime together for the rest of the day.” Your pouting self looked up to him.
“For you, kid, your word is my command~”
The transition from there to your safe haven gets fuzzy because you're as drained as you are affectionately snuggling into your partner's chest as he easily carried you and his plush the rest of the way.
In your shared humble abode, watching him strip out of his clothes was always such a tantalizing turn on for you, leaving him in just his slim boxers. Spotting his scars from his cheek to his neck to even his very back. Everything about him was too mesmerizing not to look away, especially in your current bodily state.
“The scars … the shorter cut hair … even your new twin red steel swords … is it weird I find you hotter now?” You cooed.
Red tinted from his cheeks to his ears as Kei bashfully rubbed the back of his neck. “Can you say the same for my back scars?”
He trembled as his skin grew warmer at how gentle your fingers brushed the entire bank of his flexing muscles as well as your kisses turning feverish at how much endearing attention you gave the marked planes.
“You're perfect, scars or otherwise.” You smirked against his flexing strong back.
His wings fluttered out as he swerved around, hugging you before pulling in something with one hand, chortling a bit, hanging his chibi twin right in your face. “You do have good taste, after all.” Amiss empty bowls of soup and ice cream tubs, he laid you against him, the plushie nestled in between you two like your own baby birdie.
“Kei?”
“Yeah?”
“Can we have our own bird babies?”
He was quite taken back by your words. But, that initial surprise was taken over by smitten devotion. “Sure, when you get better. For now, though,” His wing draped over you to bring more warmth to you and your belly he caressed. “Let's get you through this first.”
“Mother nature, you cruel temptress.” You grumbled.
Keigo Takami kisses you passionately to quell your hormonal desires for as long as this monthly ritual lasts. “A world where a hero like me has too much time on my hands is one where I can start a family with you, the most breathtaking being I've ever known, so I'm willing to wait a little longer.”
“Hmm …” His lovestruck eyes and charming smile made you kiss all over his now warm filled laughing face. “Same.”
Plush Hawks stayed smiling resting between your wombs as you and Keigo Takami, your mate, stayed bundled together, the TV left running on and the couch being your makeshift bed for the night.
#mha au#bnha au#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#my hero academia au#boku no hero au#mha hawks x reader#bnha hawks x reader#hawks x you#hawks x reader#hawks x y/n#keigo takami x you#keigo takami x reader#takami keigo x reader#keigo x reader#mha keigo x reader#takami keigo x you#keigo x you#keigo x y/n#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia x you#keigo takami x y/n#keigo takami imagine#keigo takami fluff#hawks imagines#hawks fluff#period fic#bnha x reader#bnha x you#bnha x y/n
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Little bump.
“Darling, I said hold still.” Astarion huffs from behind you as his hand works in a steady, skilled rhythm.
“My love, I’m trying,” You moan as you reposition yourself slightly to allow the pale elf better access. You really are trying to hold still, but hells, it certainly isn’t easy.
His expert hands continue their efforts, practically unbothered by your movements and whining. Astarion truly cannot help but to laugh at you and your little predicament.
“So impatient, little love,” He admonishes in a gentle coo, followed by a soft click of his tongue as you groan in dismay.
Finally he’s biting the piece of thread and tying a finishing knot in the stitches he’s just placed to fix the torn seam of your dress.
“All better, my sweet. But I think perhaps we should stop by the market and purchase you a few new dresses,” Astarion murmurs gently, as he brings his fingers to lovingly caress against the swell of your abdomen, which made its appearance seemingly overnight as baby Ancunin grew, “This is the second one your bump has torn this week, and I can’t always stop what I’m doing to sew you back into your clothing, love.”
You sigh and nod, “Fine. You know I hate the market. It’s always crowded, and people always recognize us. I was putting it off for as long as possible.”
“I know, my love. But I’ll be there with you and our little bump to get you both through it.”
And then he places a soft kiss on the tip of your nose.
“Now hurry along, I’m sure Wyll and the other Counsellors will be waiting for you, dear.”
——-
a/n: comment below if you initially thought this was going to be something perverted bc you’re a degenerate with your head in the gutter 💀
Gotcha!
This is the most random bit that popped into my head. A convo between pregnant Tav and domestic Astarion. Why? I don’t know. I have ADHD.
I love Dadstarion.
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Torn between wanting to write a full chapter fic with the typical “Seb’s a good guy who’s just a wee bit angsty” trope or a “Seb’s actually kinda manipulative and fucked up” trope. What to do 🤔
(I also have like 4947369 one-shots in drafts right now though, so clearly I’m an adhd mess.)
#hogwarts legacy#sebastian sallow#hogwarts legacy sebastian#hogwarts legacy fandom#hogwarts legacy fanfic#hogwarts legacy fanfiction#a03 fanfic#a03 writer
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do you think Tango, in an unmedicated-ADHD, sleep deprived haze, ever wandered into the division and starting going about business as usual in the week or so after he got kicked out? I can see him getting past reception and maybe all the way to the locker room before he notices that HotGuy is staring at him like he's grown a second head, and Arctic Fox is looking very concerned for his wellbeing and has moved to block the doorway with his body, and CuteGuy looks torn between laughing hysterically and throwing himself out the nearest window.
Tango beats him to it, though, and the three of them agree that they will never again speak of this day.
Good question! My personal answer is "nope!" Deepfrost is much better than Blaze about keeping his medications current and his ADHD regulated, and Deepfrost became paranoid as hell (he uses the term 'cautious') the second he got kicked out of the division.
That is to say, he was very abruptly aware that he was solely responsible for watching his own back and no one else to keep an eye on him. And the thing about his ADHD (his, specifically because it's mostly based on my husband's ADHD symptoms) is that he struggles to actually form habits and routines. So the heartbreak of being kicked out and his idealism getting kicked in the teeth, the sudden hyper-awareness that there was no one looking out for him but himself, and his ADHD basically made it so that his brain deleted the "go into division" or "check division shift schedule" reminders in his memory permanently
It's a very fun thought, though! I just genuinely don't think it ever happened. If he had the urge to go into the division for his next scheduled shift, he wouldn't have even made it past grabbing his keys before remembering he was no longer a division employee and going back to whatever it was he was doing before
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MY medical update:
I am beginning to feel like I will never reach the end of anything. I am legitimately folding like a wet house of cards. My mental health is being profoundly negatively affected as my identity as "a unique and vibrant human being with a meaningful life" is increasingly subsumed into a deeply trauma-adjacent and depersoning identity as "a patient", with all the associated expectations that I will repeatedly and with minimal complaint allow people I barely know or have never met access to my emotions and my traumatized and marginalized body. That is not safe space within which to exist. Medical professionals, even the very kind ones, often forget the toll that "care" can take. (Bad ones disregard it altogether.)
My unusually high degree of emotional awareness allows me to see what is happening, and even allows me to cope with it very well, but "very well" is still not enough to make this sustainable over the long term. I don't actually know where to go or what to do from here.
I am torn between wanting to get all of these appointments out of the way as quickly as possible, so that I can relax without anything hanging over my head, and spacing things out just to give myself room to fucking breathe even though that means I will always have something lurking in the near future, causing me dread. I've run the math in my head over and over and I still can't work it out. There are too many unknowns, and too many variables, and too many ways things could go wrong either way I go.
I don't even know if there is a right choice. I don't know if there is a best answer. I've never been under this kind of pressure for so long before, I have been struggling with one thing or another since before the beginning of the year, and it is genuinely starting to do what I believe could turn into lasting harm.
I had a long and helpful talk with my boyfriend tonight, and while it did not fix much, it did help me to understand that the constant pressure on me is making it difficult for him to be here for me as much as he would like to be able to, and that's obviously distressing to him. That hit me really hard, because that is exactly the position I was in earlier this year trying to get his medication refilled and trying to help him deal with a deeply incompetent dental clinic.
I very much appreciate that he shared that with me, and I probably will try to find a way to slow things down and space things out, because even if I don't know that is what is best for me, if that is what is best for him, that's what I want to do. I've been so overwhelmed trying to manage my own emotional state that I sadly have not stopped to think about the effect this has had on him. I do feel guilty about that, but the important thing is that he let me know and I heard him.
I am very tired, and I'm praying that next week is uneventful. I don't have anything scheduled, but that doesn't mean that something annoying or even actually horrible might not occur.
Right now I'm going to have a snack and go to bed and hope that the pharmacy refills my meds tomorrow so that I can go back to having 30% less ADHD.
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I am. So tired of syscourse. I know if you’re set on being anti-endo I’m not going to change your mind, but if you do actually read this please do some critical thinking about it.
Why do people care about a diagnosis. Why do people care how your system formed. We’re lucky because we’re traumagenic so people aren’t pricks to us. But i’ve met plenty of non-traumagenic people, and i’ve read multiple studies proving their existence.
Even if we weren’t heavily influenced by our trauma we still likely would have split, due to our adhd and autism leading to maladaptive-daydreaming. we still would have split because of that. It’s not fair to judge systems for the way they formed, because honestly, it’s no one’s business. They’re not hurting anyone for existing. They’re still a system.
Don’t fake claim them because they didn’t form exactly how a text book claims because systems are still extremely under researched. I’ve met systems who have split for spiritual reasons. I’ve met systems who split due to having a complex imagination. I’ve met systems who have split for so many reasons. I’ve met systems who’s splitting is none of my business. That doesn’t invalidate them. It just means they’ve had a different experience.
Please just. Let people exist. Let systems exist. I hate feeling torn between existing in my community and standing by my feeling. It feels exactly like how people are trying to cause dogfighting within the lgbtq+ community to tear us apart.
ps. if you read this please reblog it. i’ve been getting a lot of likes but no rbs
#syscourse#system stuff#system things#plurality#endogenic#traumagenic system#let people exist please. i am begging you.
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Hold Me [P.G8]
Warnings: academic overwhelm, reader isn’t coping well with the stress, Pedri being a (hopefully) helpful partner. Fluuuuuff ✨
A/N: wrote this during my midterms, basically how I felt going through the sleepless nights of studying, keep in mind I have ✨ADHD✨, so my retention can often be resumed to….shit 😽😽
A/N (again): I’m publishing this at 1:12 AM, clearly shouldn’t, but I’ve been too eager lmaoo. Um.. I haven’t written in a year or two, so bear with me. I’ll try to post on a somewhat regular basis, but being a Uni student, my schedule is a bit hectic. Love 😽
———————————————————————
Everything felt dull. The birds had stopped singing, the sky wasn’t as bright, the wind was colder. You huffed as you woke up, not ready to go through another day of this. Pedri had already left for training, leaving you alone in the flat. You sighed, turning over to grab your phone, chuckling as you saw the messages he had sent you while you were asleep.
[Mi amor:]
Thinking of you 😘 Good luck with studying today! I’ll grab us food on the way back xx
You answer his message before making your way to the bathroom, ready to get on with your day. As you take a quick glance in the mirror, you can’t help but notice your sulked face, your tired eyes from hours of staring at your computer, tirelessly trying to understand the concept of your class. You were currently studying for your finals, something that had been consuming your entire life, barely leaving space for extracurricular activities or just, breathing. Pedri had noticed the toll it had taken on you, on your couple, seeing your date nights pushed aside for a quick study attempt. You couldn’t lie, some days you had regretted pursuing a higher education degree. A notification from your phone pulled you away from your thoughts.
[Mi amor:]
Training is done, but I’m gonna go out with the boys for a bit. I should be back in 3 hours. Are you in the mood for a poke bowl, cariño?
You let him know before heading to the kitchen for a quick breakfast. As you bit through your toast, you glanced around the room. Your books and textbooks were splattered across the dining table, your pencils scattered around the room, either having fell down the table or thrown in a fit of rage. You sighed, putting down your coffee mug on the table. You knew you had to clean up your mess, not wanting Pedri to see the flat in this state. But something was preventing you from picking up your books, your scattered pencils, and the hundreds-if not thousands of Post It’s on the floor. In an attempt to pump yourself up, you sat down on the dinner table, a twinkle of hope in your eyes. You opened up your computer, your eyes glancing at the revision document. Word after word, after word, after word. Your brain barely read out the sentences, before you felt a ball in your throat, a feeling of helplessness overcoming you. Overwhelmed, you sat down on the cold floor of the flat, defeated. Why? “Why can’t I pick up after myself? Why am I so shut down?”, you muttered to yourself. You were nervously playing with the hem of your sweater, clenching and unclenching your fists, your breathing rapidly increasing. You found yourself overwhelmed; by the repetitive clinging of the washing machine you had previously started, the neighbours’ crying baby, the children playing in the park below the apartment. Everything felt too bright, too loud, too much. Exhausted, you let the tears out, longing for some sort of relief, more emotional than physical. You rolled yourself into a ball, sobs hidden by the noise of your neighbourhood.
Outside this flat, no one knew about the mental exhaustion you had pushed yourself to. The restless nights, staring at the ceiling while Pedri snored peacefully next to you; the times you silently cried in the shower as your soul broke from the pressure. There was no denying it, the academic pressure had broken your soul, left it torn into shreds, your confidence down the drain. Between the sobs, you didn’t hear the front door open. You quickly wiped down the tears before scurrying to the bathroom, locking the door behind you.
“Cariño, I’m home!”, a soft knock came from the door. You sniffled, rather loudly. “Is everything alright?”, his voice grew concerned.
You looked in the mirror, your eyes widening in horror as you saw how red they were. “Shit, shit shit,” you said dabbing some cold water around your eyes. Pedri knocked a second time, harder. “Open the door please, I’m concerned about you.”
Left without a choice, you reluctantly opened the door. Pedri was standing there, his figure towering over you, his eyebrows were knitted in worry, his lips slightly agape. His hair was slightly stuck to his forehead, most probably due to the sweat from training.
“Nena, what’s going on? Did something happen?”, he said as he took your hand and led you out of the bathroom. “C’mere.”
Settling down on the couch, your body over his, you closed your eyes; for fear of breaking down in front of him. You felt one hand settle on your back, while the other settled on top of your head. In an attempt to soothe you, he began stroking your back. You felt your body relax to his touch, your worries melting away into nothingness. Pedri was your anchor, in all the aspects possible. Whenever you were sick, or tired, overwhelmed or angry, you knew you could find solace in his arms. You don’t remember what exactly happened after sitting on the couch, but you woke up to a different scenery. The sun had set down, leaving Barcelona enveloped by a cold darkness. The apartment had been tidied up, windows closed, blinds drawn, your books neatly packed on the bookshelf, your Post It’s picked up from the floor, your pencils back into their container. All the lights were turned off, the only source of luminosity being the candle Pedri had lit up in the kitchen; almond vanilla, your favorite. Confused, you sat up.
“Pepi?”, you said, rubbing the sleep off from your eyes.
Footsteps made you turn around, a freshly showered Pedri looking at you. You saw him disappear into the bathroom before coming back out again, fully dressed and dried up. Before you were able to say anything, he sat down on the spot next to yours. His hand found yours as he fiddled with your fingers.
“Nena…I think I know what’s going on with you.”, he started.
You held your breath, afraid to hear the truth coming out of his mouth, a truth you had tried so hard to suppress and deny.
“You’ve overworked yourself, haven’t you?”, he said, lovingly stroking your hair. “You’d think all this tossing and turning at night would go unnoticed?”, he chuckled. “I have taken into account how you started biting your nails again, how little time you have to rest. Your water bottle is always sitting empty, unless I refill it for you. The snack basket’s content hasn’t moved either, unless I break your study trance and feed you. You are sitting in front of your computer every waking second you get. I’m worried about you, and your mental health.”, he said in one breath. Pedri was right. Your day was filled with dread, to have to spend hour after hour trying to memorize concepts for your degree, your mind feeling like a hole-filled sponge, never able to retain anything. Exhausted, you let the dam break. Your shoulders shaking with sobs, soaking Pedri’s shirt as well. Pedri tightened his hold on you, bringing you closer to his chest.
“You won’t go through this alone. With the upcoming international break and my injury, I will be home for the next week and a half. I have also booked you an appointment with a therapist, so you can establish coping mechanisms together… also to talk it out. And after all of this is over, I booked us a flight to your hometown.”
You looked at him in confusion.
“I think being away from your family isn’t helping you much either,” he let out. “You’ve been in Barcelona barely a year, and I believe a part of your soul is still in your hometown. I believe the beach and your grandmothers’ cooking is exactly what you need in order to come back stronger.” He said, kissing the top of your head.
You didn’t know what to say, nor how to thank him. Unable to say anything, you just let yourself crawl onto him, your head peacefully resting on his shoulder. His body wash -a mixture of sweet and spice- filled up your nostrils, as you hummed in peace. You would always be grateful for the day Pedri appeared in your life. The relationship you had built was one out of fairytales, a story of love and resilience, considering you had survived doing long distance in the early stages. You balanced out each other in more ways you could think of.
“I love you”, was the only thing you mustered up to say.
“Te quiero también, nena.” He said, leaving a kiss on your forehead.
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the ADHD Celeste post
I've been thinking about making this post for ages so I thought I'd finally give it to you all
this post is absolutely a disorganized mess but I think that's on theme
once you get her started talking about something, good luck getting her to stop, you will be there for the next hour and a half hearing about whatever she's interested in
plus she has a few interests that she considers "acceptable" to talk about with others that fit her persona, ie. European history, card games, ect. so if any of those things come up in conversation she often ends up accidentally interrupting other people to talk about them
I also think she's very awkward in group conversations especially. In a good few of her V3 bounus mode and DRS events, it seems like she's seen as this weirdo who will come up to you and talk to you about things she's interested in or try to get you to play card games with her. I think she's not very good at group conversations so she tries to interact with people one on one but she's still very awkward about it.
literally in the game, she just stops to fully describe what a zero-sum game is when literally no one asked and no one pays any attention or cares that is peak undiagnosed adhd experience
so much rejection sensitivity good lord, literally you cannot invite her to any kind of game night (I personally think her talent only applies if money or something of value is on the line as a bet) because she will take it way, way, to seriously and if she loses she gets really upset
she also definitely over analyzes every social interaction she has with anyone the moment she's alone and will convince herself that everyone hates her
she stims a lot, she literally has a sprite where she's playing with her hair, bit I think she also likes to play with the frills on her clothes
I know some people think it's just bad writing, but her entire murder plot and trial scream lack of follow through to me
also I think she daydreams a lot, literally if you lose her attention for even a minute she is gone
she absolutely hates that she has no object permanence because she's torn between wanting to remember that things she has exist, and wanting to put everything away so her dorm looks nicer (even though her room is usually a mess anyway, but it's organized chaos, it's a mess, but she can tell you exactly where things are)
she has literally never paid attention in class in her life, she's the kid sitting in the back staring out the window daydreaming the whole time
#i don't know what this post is actually#headcanons i guess??#just take it please im so sorry it's a little depressing#i never get to talk about my adhd headcanons so i got very excited i could definitely write more honestly#danganronpa#dr1#celestia ludenberg#drthh#adhd headcanon#also i have adhd that's my qualification for writing this post
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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Seven
Okay if anyone is super well-versed in the whole northern songs drama, I would LOVE your insights. I haven’t really looked into it, so all I know is they lost it right before the divorce meeting. What happened? What the hell is this? -- “Which includes Paul and John,” “Just about.” “What does that mean?” “No comment.”
The scouse getting thicker and thicker after “Carolina moOOn?” What can I say? I’m a sucker for it.
Paul’s absolute sugar-cookie heart-eyes when George walks in and then Ringo’s high-pitched “Hi Georgie!” Guys. Tone it down! I know you love him. But you just saw him yesterday, and you’ll see him again tomorrow. Oh wait . . . is today the day he quits?
John. If you look at your boyfriend like that while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here.
OMG they’re KISSING! (Live George reaction)
Paul. If you give your boyfriend what he wants while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here. (but literally, John just becomes a maniac, dancing and shouting, the MOMENT Paul goes to talk to George, and Paul’s instantly like “George, what george?”)
This Paul/George fight is, boiled down, literally just Paul being paranoid and anal and George trying to reassure him. “It’s not passe, it’s just a chord . . . yeah, but some drainies suit different occasions.”
“You need Eric Clapton.” “You need George Harrison.” John wasn’t here to be cute when George walked in, so he’s making up for it now.
“If you vamp, then it takes away from his vamping.” He says to the lead guitarist. Rolling my eyes so hard right now. See, the problem is, Paul loves George. But he’s IN love with John.
Literally, a montage of them raw-dogging it on the ground would be less gay than this insanity.
Poor baby. I would’ve quit a long time ago. Good for you.
I love John’s angsty guitar and torn-up vocals post-george.
And the minute her number one hater is gone, my girl gets on a mic! Way to be, honestly. And here’s the thing. Paul and Ringo (and obviously John) love it! There should’ve been a Beatles-Ono colab on a helter-skelter type track. Would’ve killed.
Paul swinging around on that scaffolding and me doing cartwheels in the bathroom between LSAT sections. ADHD besties!
John when George quits: “If he doesn’t come back by Tuesday we get Clapton in” (which he obviously doesn’t fully mean) VS John’s reaction when Paul misses one session: sprinting down the road and climbing a wall and screaming at him
Yoko sure does know how to cater to a fearful-anxious attachment. “John, John, John, Joooooooohhhhhhhnnnn!”
Literally Mo, marry me immediately! My kingdom for a kiss! She’s literally soo beyond gorgeous, I’m dying. Okay sorry I’ll be done now.
Men are the WORST! But who is making her laugh like that? Ringo? Is she looking off in the direction of the band? I can’t tell.
Another rare Paul feminist moment! Woop! “A7, D7, G7. Get ‘em off over the weekend and you’re in.”
“So, cats and kittens. What we gonna do?” . . . “Catch up! Cats and kittens. Don’t get left behind.” ???? There have got to be so many secret jabs on RAM for John to hate it so much that we just don’t understand. Is this one of them? Was this a saying of theirs?
Okay, good job. Now that the band is here, Mo isn’t being fucking mean-girled out of the circle. Also, Ringo sits by his wife, John by his girlfriend, and Paul by his daddy. As they should.
“The maresey beat awords for the best coople of the yeeuh.” Everyone studiously ignoring him. He’s so embarrassing.
I really really love Mo, though. Like I know I’m biased because she’s pretty, but her cute little “Yes!” when Paul jokingly suggests they do it at the cavern. She loved those days. The fact that she’s an og? God bless her, literally.
“Location isn’t really our main problem at the moment.” George Martin. “It’s breathing, actually.” said in the most casual voice possible but meant with the most wounded heart. Gosh, that one hurt. And then look how George Martin looks at him. His best boy is going through it.
The huggle! Ringo initiates it with Paul, of course, turning to him and gently gripping both biceps as he forces deep, direct eye contact. But then as Ringo’s pulling away, Paul leans into him and holds him there, talking. And as Ringo’s nodding, he looks to John, who basically pounces on both of them, head bowed, arms aggressive, pulling them all in, tighter, tighter until it’s a three-way head-bonk. Ringo’s hand at John’s waist now, and Paul’s fucking iron talons clenching desperately around his bicep. But still, John manages to pull away from Paul’s grip as Yoko inserts herself between them where, really, she decidedly does Not belong. It’s got to be the most painful non-hug ever recorded on camera. Nobody knows what anyone wants, let alone how to give it to them.
Why did the gayest one also have to be the saddest one though? I guess the Lord gives his hardest battles to his gayest soldiers, smh
#Very image-heavy this time#Pictures just spoke louder than words I guess#paul mccartney#the beatles#john lennon#mclennon#ringo starr#george harrison#get back
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I always want more q!phil headcanons, even if there are not asks about it
Oh fuck yeah man. Here's my previous sets if you haven't read them:
Set 1
Set 2
Set 3
And here's more:
He fucking HATES feeling on edge. He's extremely familiar with it, but that never dulls his hatred for the ick it gives him. That knot in his stomach, the flutter in his chest, the reeling in his mind, the fire in his nerves, the tremble in his limbs. That unshakeable feeling that no matter what or where he is, his back is vulnerable. This man wants to be Fight over Flight or Freeze EVERY time, so when he can't control the situation or can't anticipate what happens, he mcfreaks it. How can he prepare to survive when he doesn't know what to prep against? Or in the case of the Ender King business, how can he do anything to prepare against an all-powerful God?
He's struggling a bit with the whole Rose thing. Does he keep her a Death Family Secret? Does he extend her protection to his closest friends like Fit & Ramon? He'd like to give them the same extra layer of security he has from her, even if just to give Fit a little more peace of mind, but he respects Rose & values her & her aid deeply. He doesn't want to stretch her too thin, or worse, come off like he takes her love & protection for granted. It's the one case in which, while very tempting, he resists that urge to be overzealous. He's just torn because he doesn't want to see any of his friends hurt. So because of the way he is, he feels guilty that he has a secret extra oomph to how safe he & his kids are
Speaking of Rose, when there's no immediate crisis at hand, he loves to gush to her about life. He talks so highly of Missa & Fit & Etoiles. He asks her if she's seen the latest silly things Chayanne & Lullah have done. He rants on and on about the Federation. Can you believe those guys Rose?
He tries and, like in all other situations, fails not to swear around/to Rose. She's a deity, a very.. not exactly formal, but Prestigious deity nonetheless. It's no place for swearing. But Phil is cursed with Autopilot Sailor Mouth so half the time he's dropping f bombs while heated or scared about something, he's not even registering what's coming out of his mouth. Besides, he's gotta focus his train of thought or else them 80 HDs he's got will derail it. Can't be focused on not saying the fuck word
Speaking of ADHD, much like his swearing, he sometimes doesn't register himself vocal stimming either. Boosh boosh boosh, he's tunnel-visioned on his task. The kids & polycule find it endearing to witness. Sometimes they get passed onto other islanders
He thinks Bagi is so fucking cool. Like yeah, it's cool his good friend Cellbit has a sister or whatever but that's not what makes her cool. She's fucking brilliant. She's headstrong, she knows what she wants & what she's looking for. She gets shit DONE. And god help whoever hinders her efforts. He's allergic to giving himself any credit whatsoever, so in his eyes she's a billion times cooler & smarter & more badass than he is, rather than like. A few thousand times cooler & smarter. But yeah, she's a superhero in his eyes
Tbh putting him with either of the Theory Twins is a sight to behold. Phil is a brilliant strategist & very resourceful. There's such strong, immaculate chemistry between this man who loves to think & is a natural at planning, and either of the twins who are good at making the puzzle pieces fit & seeking out nooks & crannies for more info. When put together they truly are a force to be reckoned with to the Federation
When left to his own devices & off-duty as dad + not needed by any of the islanders for something serious, he let's loose. No more wise bad bitch crow man who's palpably emotionally damaged yet won't admit it. He's off the shits. You've seen Eggza. That's him de-stressing by fully indulging his favorite things: preparing necessities for survival & being an absolute wildcard.
I can't tell if I like the idea he legitimately can't see glass bc crow hybrid or the idea that he fakes it to amuse the kids & his friends For The Bit better. Maybe he plays it off like a bit but he legit can't see it. Idk.
I said it in a rant about Phil's characterization and I'll say it again: this man doesn't fucking realize he's flawed. Like he thinks he is but not in the way he actually is. He doesn't recognize his actual flaws as flaws. Or doesn't realize they're flaws. Or maybe is ignoring that they're flaws because he uses them to cope or something. Either way. What this man THINKS are his flaws & his actual flaws are entirely different things. In his mind his actual flaws are something he thinks are normal bc he's just Been That Way for so long.
He likes to collect things that make him think of his friends & the kids ("oh Lullah will like this!" "Ooh, Fit said something about needing that!") but because he has that good ol ADHD memory, he'll store it in a backpack for later & then promptly forget about it or get distracted
God, he is so incredibly proud of Lullah for liking to build pretty things like her farm or botanical garden. She really is su niña <3
[Wants to support Chayanne by being involved in his cooking hobby] [Observes Chayanne cooking] [Absorbs no knowledge whatsoever] :D
He hates the rain. Not only is it a Quesadilla Island Horrors omen, but it's also annoyingly wet & makes for even more dangerous mobs around. Also the bad weather makes his wing pain flare up
If only communicators (meta: in-game chat) allowed for sending pictures. At least then he could send Missa memes while they're apart 😭
Stay tuned, I have like 4 other sets coming because I got asks. :D
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hm.. Enough showing our headcanons.. (Only once) Now show US your HEADCANONS!!!!!
My regurgitator headcanons some sad some random
Mannequin Mark
• Hyperfixated on wood and will not hesitate to yap about wood to the point your ears bleed
• Woodtism
• Got the hyperfixation a while after getting the woodworking job
• Hates Glevil
• Silly
• Gets sent memes from ifunny by Jimmy and laughs because he also somewhat finds them funny and just so Jimmy won't feel bad. Also ocaisonally references some of them
• Has made some BAD wood puns. Very bad puns..
• Self harms with one of his carving knives.
• Attempted before.
• Suicidal.
• BE TRANSGENDER!!
Wallter
• Objectum and posic
• Suffered from Mark's wood yapping (OH GOD WHEN WILL THIS MAN SHUT UP ABOUT WOOD???)
• Drinks grey stuff when he misses Mark
• 30 - 56 or smth (oldass man /silly)
• Does not want to go to a therapist
Lampert
• AuDHD
• Torn between his two friends (OH GOD WHEN WILL THESE TWO STOP ARGUING)
• Not their child!!! ^^
• Dreams about a pure clean land with no ounce of germs in it. Though when Folly was still invading people's dreams she would come in and spread germs on which would basically give Lampert a panic attack (sorta canon but whatever I'm still labeling this as headcanon)
Jimmy
• AuDHD
• Sucks at understanding social cues but can understand them sometimes when its more in his face or smth
• Contradictory to the previous headcanon, He's also street smart ish.
• Probably some form of chronically online in a young middle aged dad way
• Has a few repressed memories
• Skates a bit (based off the soap shoe thing)
• Decent skating skills
• Silly
•Thinks he's cool and epik
• Shows Mark memes from ifunny because he thinks they're funny and cool and would get a bit sad if Mannequin Mark said they weren't that funny
• Tries to laugh at some of Mark's bad wood puns (he doesn't actually find them funny he just doesn't want Mannequin Mark to go into a deep depression again)
• Tried to be supportive and comfort Mark during the divorce despite misunderstanding the topic a bit and saying some things that were a bit inappropriate for the tone. Still managed to make him feel better!
• Has pica and eats wood which is technically cannibalism and also sometimes gnaws on Mark's arm (<- adopted headcanon. I think you know who i stole this one from)
• Stims by biting his arm
Glevil
• Homophobic /hj /j
• Internalized homophobia and homophobic prejudice (either interchangeably or at the same time. Depends how i wanna depict em)
• Drinks tree sap
• Rude
• Hates Mark's guts and thinks Jimmy is stupid and useless (hey!! That's rude 😡)
• Evil but not very gleeful!! Oooooo!!!!!
• The glitchy face is a factory defect
• Controlling and manipulative (oooh!! Spooky!!!!!!!!)
• Hates non-mannequins and the ones that left the hivemind
• Alcoholic (<- adopted headcanon)
• Their voice is their charisma ig idfk
• Wants to and will cannibalize someone
Boots
• Boots/Bootsself and They/She/He/Any
• Flexes their height and Boots ALOT.
• Would probably have boots' worldview shattered if they saw someone taller than them
• Kinda self centered
• Has beef with the other mannequins ocaisonally.
• Wine aunt
• Gay. Gay as hell
• Would step on someone. Not in a kinky way
Kai
• He/They
• Dry but secretly the silliest guy ever
• Has counted how many times Glevil has killed someone with chalk
• Would've acted just like Manequinn :3 if it weren't for the fact he occasionally witnessed probably the most fucked up shit in their life and stuff
• Born to be a yapper but forced to listen to Glevil
• Boring!!
Timmy
• Ignorance is bliss.
• Can sharpen his lollipop into a spear
• Doesn't realize some of the shit he witnesses is fucked up and thinks strangling people is normal
• 5-10 years old or smth
• Loves his lollipop!!
• Happened to be manufactured smaller than the others.
Manequinn :3
• They/Them
• Poob but if you made them a mannequin and turned their annoyingness up to 11
• Screw it. This one has ADHD too and i say so
• Born a yapper.
• Full name: Manequinn Quinn :3 bla catty Mane Mannequin
• GEEK!!
• Likely a weeb and a MHA fan
• FURRY!!!
• would type :3 or a variation of it at the end of every sentence (like 3: if they are sad)
• Silly
• would have a jar.
• And a figurine.
• Insane in a way
• Would be a wattpad user..
All of the mannequins in general
• Can range from non-sentient, sapient and sentient but usually non-sentient. (mostly due to the cult-hivemind thing yadayada)
• The ones in glevil's room are depressed as fuck
• Bleed tree sap
• At some point weren't all mostly part of a hivemind. Glevil just fucked up shit a little bit (BOO!!!! TOMATO TOMATO!!!)
• The reason some mannequins have funny faces is because the workers at the factory use markers and draw silly goofy faces instead of the usual face craved out on them. Though Glevil's face wasn't a result of the workers goofing around. It was more of a defect
• The company agreed to throw their regular and defected mannequins into the wood chipper to help the Regretevator staff. Some mannequins who get spotted moving infront of people get sent to the crusher. However Mannequin Mark is an exception.
Gnarpy
• Struggles with love and trust similarly to Folly: Being hurt so many times they don't want to get too close to someone so they don't get hurt again (Trust issues 🤑🤑)
• Gifted child ahh mf
• Raised to be this way
• Committed multiple war crimes
• Won multiple wars!! (and may have killed a few species to extinction)
• Distracts xemself from guilt and trauma by using a gun and killing people
Also I'm coming out. I'm cherriezkin lol and yes i did terrorize hat one headcanon blog
#cw/tw self harm mention#Implications of attempted suicide#i dunno if i can tag all of this I'm sorry#Regretevator headcanons#Mod Lampert
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