#defination of web design

[webdesigncourse99]

Cracking the Code: The Essential ABCs of Web Design

Enroll in a web design course in Delhi and unlock the power of creating stunning websites. Mastering web design is essential for crafting user-friendly, visually captivating online experiences that leave a lasting impression on your visitors.

[icewindandboringhorror]

indeed my exact process once every 8 months or so

[jeremy-empie-web-design-llc]

How To Prepare A Briefing For Your Web Project

Are you a web developer or designer looking to impress potential clients with your professionalism and expertise? Do you want to ensure that your web projects are executed flawlessly, meeting all client expectations? Look no further! In this article, we will guide you through the process of preparing a comprehensive briefing for your web project. By following our expert tips and strategies, you…

[resplendent-dwellings]

[antagonistchan]

dash update finally hit me

tbh i kinda can't stand the aesthetic but the actual layout is pretty good

everything's just kinda perfectly laid out on screen

not too claustrophobic, but not too much wasted space either

[nopanamaman]

How does the stalker business work?

Loredump. October 2023

A web of alliances, insiders, clients, and territorial disputes - this is what forms the stalker business, a domain that’s as illegal as it is profitable.

Today, we’ll delve into the basic origins and inner workings of this peculiar profession. Let’s find out how these glorified marauders operate!

How did the stalker business develop?

The stalker business emerged almost as soon as the Zone itself was born. But, much like every structure based around the Zone itself, it became more refined - and more corrupt - as years went on.

What started as individuals travelling the Zone completely on their own accord grew into a network of organised groups with their own informants, clientele and designated territories. Yet when it looked like major alliances had become fully solidified with a couple of large groups operating across vast stretches of the Zone, the development of the internet put a dent in the system.

Yura: Do I really need to know the territorial policies of 70s factions Sergei: YES Olya: No.

As many information-gathering and order-related operations moved online, doing business in smaller groups became a more viable option. Nowadays, the majority choose to operate in gangs of up to 30 people.

Since the business has grown more decentralised and, in a way, accessible, the competition within it has increased dramatically. Territories are less clearly defined and run-ins with members of rivalling gangs are commonplace. When it comes to the human factor, it’s more dangerous than it ever was.

How are the little groups organised?

Modern stalker groups are typically formed around somebody who has direct connections to potential clients or those able to nicely aggregate information about the Zone’s current state. So any group needs at least one product reseller and one strategic leader, which can sometimes be the same person.

The latter is true for Sergei's group, for instance.

He is responsible for processing orders, evaluating the delivered artefacts, reselling them, gathering up to date information about the Zone’s landscape and traffic, and helping the available stalkers plan their trips accordingly. It’s a heavy workload, so having just one person performing all of those tasks wouldn’t be manageable on a larger scale.

Obviously enough, smaller groups are more reliant on the quality of their individual members, even more so when they have a specific role to fill. If we use known members of Sergei’s group as examples, they fit pretty neatly into the following roles:

Radar (радар). Formerly fulfilled by Kolya – a stalker with an outstanding sense for anomalies. Irreplaceable for navigating the more treacherous parts of the Zone. Yura was going to inherit that role.

Doctor (доктор). Self-explanatory. While it’s recommended that all stalkers undergo some form of first aid training, it never hurts to have someone with a deeper knowledge of medicine on the team. This role was filled by Nikita.

Insider (свояк). As the name suggests, it’s a person that helps in various aspects of stalker work by providing client contacts, guard post information, info about other gangs’ operations, and so on depending on their position. Insiders don’t usually take part in actual trips or even work with specific stalker groups, but Olya is built different.

Ram (таран). The muscle of the group. You don’t need to be especially physically fit to navigate the Zone,but when things become dire, it absolutely helps. This was Sergei’s role when he still travelled the Zone.

These are arbitrary designations and many don’t fit into one particular role. That said, creating a balanced group of 3 is easier when there’s a fair understanding of each person’s strengths.

Yura: Oh, kinda like video game classes! Sanya: Yeah, I guess. Yura: So who would I be? Sanya: Support.

What does the typical work cycle look like?

An order is either placed on an online marketplace or is mailed directly to a trusted trader. The trader then passes the information to the strategist, who analyses the current Zone layout, as well as the latest available information about the placements of various artefacts and anomalies.

The strategist then determines the optimal routes to retrieving the ordered goods. Some use special software to aid in the process. The service price is then estimated based on the difficulty of retrieval and transportation. If the initial price suggested in the order is lower than this estimate, price negotiations will ensue.

Once the minimal price is agreed on, the actual planning starts. A group of three is gathered from the pool of available stalkers. They are all informed about the mission specifics and the route they need to travel - this is when the team can discuss and make adjustments to the plan.

Nikita: No, no, this route will be way too stressful for Olyechka. Perhaps, she should sit this one out? Olya: If we don't make this route shorter, Nikita won't come back, I'm afraid. Nikita: Well, aren't you a treat. Anyways, Serozha, my leg has been getting worse and I won't make this climb. Olya: Perhaps, you should sit this one out.

After the artefacts are delivered to the trader, their quality is evaluated. Stalkers tend to pick up whatever valuables they find on the way, which means extra cash for them and more work for the trader.

Once the evaluation is complete, stalkers are paid off and the products are resold at a significantly higher price. The artefacts that were specifically ordered are exchanged for the agreed upon amount of money and the extra stuff is peddled to other high-paying customers.

Since selling artefacts is a risky and complicated endeavour in itself, most stalkers are content with the paychecks they get from their trader.

Finally, when everything is done, stalkers may anonymously share information about their trip to the online community. But considering the competitive nature of the business, not everyone is willing to help out their fellow colleagues – or really, not everyone wants to talk about the things they’ve seen.

What is the online stalker community like?

As was already mentioned, the internet has majorly changed how stalkers went about receiving orders and information about the Zone. It has become an important channel for communication and securing deals.

Firstly, all of the relevant platforms are on the deep web. Secondly, all of them are invite-only.

The three major platforms are:

Doska (literally “the board” as in bulletin board)

A marketplace where orders are placed and taken up by anyone interested, as well as an auction platform for selling off artefacts. Widely used by groups and stalkers who have not yet gained established clients.

Krematorii (crematorium)

A closed forum. Discussions, rumours, shitposting.

10K Crematorium karma

14KKM (as in 14 thousand kilometers, the approximate area of the Zone)

A dynamically updated map of the Zone. User-managed, hence chaotic and unreliable.

Users can mark locations of witnessed anomalies and artefact positions, which others can confirm or downvote. A marking needs to be confirmed by at least 4 people before it is put down and is removed if at least 4 people downvote it. All markings can be commented on.

Most of the community tries to maintain it more or less accurately for the sake of their own future missions, but there are malefactors that will add false markers to it. Should be taken with a huge grain of salt.

Of course, it bears mentioning that there are plenty of fake online communities on the surface web. Those are rife with people roleplaying as stalkers, scammers, kids, and just shitposters. No actual stalker uses those for business.

Rules regarding the Zone

Though the information side of things has changed a lot, the core methodology of travelling the Zone itself remained the same. Sets of universal rules became solidified over the years, which can be described as a mixture of operational protocols and esoteric beliefs.

What are the basic operational protocols?

Basic operational protocols outline best practices for dealing with simple anomalies, traversing the Zone, bypassing guard posts, and handling difficult situations (mercy kills, painless death, encountering other stalkers).

Some common recommendations include:

use projectiles (usually bolts with pieces of cloth attached for visibility) to check for gravitational anomalies;

operate in groups of three - two do the job, the third one watches on;

do not consume any food or drinks you find;

avoid unnatural shadows;

do not stay at the Hollow for over 20 minutes (your body will start to decay);

do not approach the Town (your body will permanently distort);

do not handle fizzy clay without rubber gloves (will leave you debilitated or addicted to the substance);

always send the draisine back;

don't photograph ghosts;

etc.

They are objective results of many years of trial and error. Going against them is likely to end in death or injury regardless of your personal qualities. In other words, there is little dispute over the validity of these rules. The same cannot be set for the second ruleset.

What are stalker beliefs?

The Zone favours the miserable. The desperate, the broken, the lonely. The Zone favours ones that are willing to give up their whole being to her, to completely entrust themselves to her whims. She rewards dejection.

These are common truths to some and hogwash to others. There is no solid proof for any of these claims - how can there be? However, there is no happy stalker, and there is no living stalker without a scar. To many, that's evidence enough.

On top of that, there are some group-specific philosophies. They include:

the Zone is a holy place that needs to be revered;

the Zone is an ulcer of the world that needs to be cleansed;

the Zone is the new stage of Earth’s evolution;

the Zone is divine punishment;

the Zone is a point of contact with a parallel universe;

and many others.

These philosophies dictate how people go about their activities in the Zone in a more ritualistic sense. It’s hard to devise whether or not those little rituals have any effect that isn’t purely psychological.

There is a good number of people that hold a purely cynical view of the Zone. But whether they admit it or not, everyone gradually develops a sense of fear and reverence for it. How they compartmentalise it is a different question.

Conclusion

I could write more about the topic, but as of now, I think this general outline should suffice. The stalker business is a multifaceted enterprise to say the least, so hopefully this article has shed the light on its most essential aspects.

Perhaps, there will one day be a more in-depth follow-up! Who knows. As we continue to unveil the enigmatic layers of the Zone, only time will reveal the full extent of its mysteries... And the engimatic layers of shitty Stalker forums, I guess.

[the-twst-cast-needs-therapy]

Honestly, I think it's unfortunate that the Octavinille trio does not have more animalistic features. I get that they drink potions to have human features, but I'd like to believe that they keep more than just the teeth. Savannahclaw and Diasmonia have cool animal eyes, why can't Octavinille have them as well?

I am also a big fan of making the Tweels look a lot more terrifying in their merman forms. I need these mfs to look like they're chomping on shipwrecked humans like a 5 course meal. I need them to be creechur.

Anyways, slight redesigns for the Octavinille trio:

A design breakdown:

Azul:

-Pointy ears: I honestly don't know why, but I felt like giving him some! I also think his chibi sprite has them, which still confuses me.

-Octopus pupils: If other dorms can have cool animal eyes, so can Octavinille!

-Skin: the skin around his cheeks is a soft yellow and has a kind of ring pattern, that can be found on some octopus species. I thought it would add some flair. On top of that, his hands and feet also have some darker colouring to reference his octopus form.

-his octopus form is close to the cannon one, but I thought colouring his hair tips to resemble a pen dipped in ink would be a nice detail (as well as adding the iconic shell necklace)

Tweels:

-i love love love their fin ears, there definitely keeping them as humans. They're a little bigger in their mer forms (one of Floyds ears got bitten off during an altercation with a stranger), their ears are transparent

-a lot of their cannon mer form elements, such as the markings on the face and their blue hue have been kept for their human design. I think their mer forms are pretty, but as stated previously, some animalistic features would have been nice. I love the idea of the tweels looking more terrifying in ther human forms and being even scarier in their mer forms. I changed their eyes to look more animalistic in their mer forms. I definitely wanted to keep the heterochromia and had to depart from the usual Moray design for eyes.

-their teeth are sharp, but I think they're even more defined in their mer-forms. I think their jaws also open quite wide in their mer-forms

-contrary to the cannon, I don't think the Tweels would be super fit in their mer forms. I'd imagine them to be quite lanky and bony (to up that horror factor)

-im a really big fan of them having webbed hands! I think they'd have them (to a reduced degree) in their human form too!

[divinit3a]

i really like your eldritch aliens story.

pls may i have some more?

hehe hi, thank you :D that means a lot to me to hear!! (i like them also... tis fun to draw Freaklets)

the lovely @rosescarletful wrote a oneshot for them!! (they have requests open, the kindest of the kind 💚)

I gently place some doodles into your hands....

and... a snippet of writing for them, below... :3c

The back of your eyelids flutter as you lift your head up. 

At the sight that greets you, you struggle to lurch back. And fail. 

Moving in a constant ripple is a wall of seamless gristle. Cut into the expanse is segments which begin to define the edges of its limbs into coarse webbing, the distinct and unpleasant color of viscera. 

From the writhing mass, blossoming outward like an unruly, parasitic sprout off an orchid, a mockery of familiar features takes form. The surface of its body is unnaturally smooth and simultaneously jagged in other areas, like a sculptor’s unfinished chisel into pure marble. 

The body bends down closer. It pushes a semblance of a face near yours. The motion is all too fluid and fast, like it lacks the skeletal structure to bend at joints with a limited range. Instead, the flesh folds and collapses into itself. Reforms elsewhere. 

From the center of what you’d call its chest, an eye blinks open. Peeling apart the flat plane to make room for the rounded optic that pushes outward. Rings of light circle around what you designate its pupil. The brightest point.

Once you make the mistake of eye contact, a compulsion latches onto you. 

It feels impossible to look away.  

You shrink back further into the web of sinew that binds you in place. The scientific half of your mind is curious. The logical half of your mind is deeply afraid. 

You hurry to squeeze your eyes shut as all of their remaining infinite eyes blink open. 

Every pupil leers directly at you. Countless white dots. There's an intense pressure, like a migraine, pressing down on your brain. It feels like having fingers caress against the spongy organ before squeezing so hard that it threatens to bleed out your nostrils instead.

Soft suggestions flood in. Soothe over the pain with mindless, humming static. The wordless messages caress your subconscious like wind sweeping through strands of hair. To look. To open your eyes.

[toxicanonymity]

Forever for her. Left in Lincoln, pt. 7 .

10k, softdark!Joel Miller x virgin f!reader

Series Master List | official playlist | floorplan

WARNINGS: I8+, virginity loss, big girthy age gap, angst, dark fluff, reader menstruates, p in v, fingering, grinding, creampie, subtle intimidation, manipulation, horror background elements. Joel is creepy, dark, delulu, and cringe (reader is sheltered, isolated, hormonal). Enthusiastic but dubious consent (brainwashing?), playing fast and loose with climate and fruit. Reader wears a flannel from Joel's closet. Haphazardly edited. This is not the last part.

"We're givin' each other everything, right?" You nodded, then he continued, "So listen." He paused and wet his lips. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He met your eyes again and swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe. . . " He lowered his voice. "an' anything to keep ya mine." 

You woke up in Joel's bed, and he was nowhere in sight. You were warm, almost too warm. The dress was hanging on the back of his bedroom door.  Your undergarments and a pad were on the nightstand.

You took a bath, then put your robe back on and laid on the bed staring at the dress on the back of the door. You could hear the rhythmic scrape of a rake outside and inwardly smiled, picturing Joel doing yard work. You put on your robe, crossed the room to look out the window and felt a refreshing draft as you held the curtains back.  In the bottom right corner of the window's top pane, there was a spiderweb on the outside of the glass. The rake continued to scrape against the ground in the distance.  The web was well-defined and irregular, some of the fibers thicker than others. You admired its intricacy and followed the design, looking for the spider, wondering if it was a male or female.

The rhythmic scraping of the rake lulled you into a trance as you followed the web from the outer edge in, until a black, out-of-focus mass fell right in front of your nose, then you felt a tickle on your chest. You gasped and stifled a squeal. Your body jerked into panic mode. You rapidfire slapped yourself on the chest and felt it smush against your robe. You wiped it on the window pane, then looked at the crumbled spider with its legs drawn in on itself, still moving but barely. It looked like a slow death, but you hoped it wasn't painful. Surely it never thought about its prey this way.  

You took a deep breath and tried to slow your heart rate.  You recalled that time back at your house, outside the spider shed, so long ago – Frank's words through laughter, "we're gonna get through this, honey." You took slow, calming breaths, then swallowed and whispered "sorry," before abruptly turning and walking to the bathroom. You washed your hands and chest with soap again, then came back and sat on the bed. The rake had stopped moving. 

You finally stood up and retrieved the dress, bringing it to the bathroom with you and locking yourself in. You didn't want Joel to see you if it didn't look good on you. Plus, you had to do something really private.

First you went to the toilet. It was its own room within the bathroom. You locked it, too. You sat there for about fifteen minutes trying to let as much of your period out as you could after being horizontal all night. You didn't want all the built up blood pooling in your pad right away. 

Once you did all you could, you washed up and looked in the mirror. You stood there and looked at yourself in your underwear for a minute, mostly looking at your face. You looked different, serious, but vibrating with a new energy. You imagined Joel standing behind you, as if you were in a portrait. Something you'd never have.  But at least you had each other. 

-

You finally put the dress on, over your head. You could just barely reach the back zipper to finish it. It felt much less cumbersome than you imagined it would. It was light and unrestrictive. The lace sleeves had enough room. It felt as comfortable as any other dress. You didn't look in the mirror right away. You looked down at yourself, then  looked over your back, and down your arms. You looked in the reflection of the shower glass and the silhouette looked good enough. 

You turned around to look in the real mirror, and you looked nice. The lace made you feel like a doll, but somehow you looked older than yourself at the same time. You turned around and admired it from the side and over your shoulder from the back, then smoothed it down over your butt and you didn't see the bulkiness you feared from your pad. You looked at yourself head on again, and the only thing out of place was the redness on your chest from scrubbing away the spider. With the dress on, there was a new smile behind your eyes, thinking about how Joel got it for you. 

You went to the kitchen to look out the back window.  You didn't see Joel and were somewhat relieved to have another moment to yourself.  Your tummy felt nervous. You knew it was excitement, but the physical sensation was in discernable from anxiety.  There was a little jar of apple juice on the table with a pill and a note that said "cramps?" You were feeling okay but thought about taking half of it anyway. 

You sniffed the juice and it smelled good. You sat at the kitchen table and stared at the apple juice in the jar, then took a long sip and watched the tiniest bit of apple sediment settle back to the bottom. It was delicious.  You  took half the pill and downed the rest of the juice, then your stomach rumbled. You got an apple from the kitchen counter and sat back down. You inspected it and pressed it. You cut it with your thumbnail to make sure it wasn't rotten. It was crisp, and juice beaded along the crescent moon from your nail. You took a bite and it was fine. You relaxed into the chair and ate the apple. 

Joel had let you sleep late. It was almost mid day.  Just as you were finishing up your apple, you noticed him outside through the kitchen door window. He was standing there and looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. He was wearing a white button-up shirt that looked like one Frank might wear to one of his black tie dinners. Joel came inside and as he turned around to close the door, you admired his lower body in a pair of form fitting khakis. 

"You look nice," you told him. 

He exhaled a small laugh and looked at the floor as he crossed the room to you. He sat down at the table and took your hand. "You look like an angel." He kissed your hand and scooted closer.  He smelled like aftershave (although he wasn’t shaved, thank goodness) and a hint of sweat from his yard work. As comfortable as he made you feel, you still got butterflies around him. 

He asked, "Hungry?" 

You nodded. "A little."

"How bout a lil picnic, somethin' light?" 

You nodded "is it nice out?"

"Prettiest day we could want, peaches."

—------

He made some grits and you sat at the table watching.  He pulled the wagon with a basket, quilt, and blanket, and held your hand as you slowly walked. He squinted and looked at the trees, then at you.

He asked, "How ya feelin'?" 

"Good, I'm fine." 

"Good."

You assumed you were going to "your tree," but instead you arrived at a peach tree. He had cleared the area around it so no debris was in the way.  He looked around and asked, "Whatcha think?" 

You looked around.  It was a good spot, away from the back, but not too close to the street. Insulated enough to feel private. You nodded, "yeah, this is nice."

Joel spread out the quilt, then the blanket, then, before sitting down, he took both your hands in his. "I feel so lucky, peaches. You're the most special girl in the world."  His eyes bored into yours. "Really mean that. There's no one like you, darlin'."

You looked down then met his eyes again, biting your lip. "I think you're special, too."

A breeze came and swept your dress out, making the scene feel like a postcard. 

He dropped your hands, then fetched something out of his pocket and looked at it.  Your heart skipped a beat. His thick fingers were blocking your view.

"Now darlin', I'm gonna give ya somethin', but first. . ."

He held it up. It was gold and shiny. Your birth father's wedding band. Your heart skipped a beat and a knot formed in your stomach.  

"My. . ." You couldn't finish the sentence. This meant he knew about the gun, too. . . and your mother's knife.  

Joel must have seen it on your face. "Left everything else how ya had it. You're a smart girl, peaches."  

You tried to read his face. It was soft, sympathetic. You nodded hesitantly. 

"It's okay, darlin'. I don't blame ya. I woulda done the same." He held the ring between his forefinger and thumb and you opened your palm. "Smart to be prepared." 

You breathed a sigh of relief as the knot in your stomach relaxed. But even as it faded, you still had that nervous–no, excited–tummy. 

Joel put the ring in your hand and closed it. He held his hand there around yours and seemed like he might say something else, but he didn't. 

You didn't have anywhere to put the ring.  You had a passing thought to put it on your thumb but it felt stupid.  You felt an urge to say you were going to give it to Joel, but you didn't say anything since he let you off the hook. 

Joel reached back in his pocket and fished out another ring, smaller. It was silver with inset stones. He held it up and said, "I want you to have this one." He stepped closer, so his feet were outside yours. "We're givin' each other everything, aren't we?" 

You nodded, and his eyes watered. 

He nodded with you and his brow furrowed. "I love you. . . And I love bein' a family, the two of us."

Your own eyes felt misty. "I love you, too."

He took your hand, and slid the ring onto it. It was old fashioned, simple. "Ain't never gonna let ya go."

"Good," you whispered. 

—

He kissed your hand, and when he tried to hold your other hand, too, you realized you were still holding your father's ring. 

"Um," you cleared your throat. "Would this fit you?" You asked and opened your hand. His face relaxed. 

"I dunno, peaches," he whispered. His eyes sparkled at you. He held his hand palm-down. The top of his ring finger's knuckle was a little red as if he'd already tried to put it on. You slid the ring part way on, but his finger was too big. 

"Sorry," you muttered and felt a lump in your throat. You didn't have anything to give him. It rested above his knuckle. 

"S'okay darlin', it's the fact that ya tried." He unbuttoned his shirt pocket, dropped the ring into it, then buttoned it again. "I'll keep it safe for ya."

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth and nodded, looking up at him shyly, somehow feeling like you ruined this. 

He cupped your face and read your eyes, then closed the gap between your faces and his lips pressed into yours. 

He hugged you into him, kissed you harder, then murmured, "wanna sit down?"

You nodded.

You smoothed your dress under you and sat down with your knees to the side, leaning toward him.  He unpacked a thermos of grits and two bowls. He unbuttoned his wrists and rolled up his sleeves and his forearm flexed with every lift of the spoon.  You ate mostly in silence, but he looked at you adoringly the whole time and your nerves faded.  His wrist nudged his inner thigh and when your eyes drifted there, the shape of his cock sent a pang between your legs. He followed your gaze and your face heated up as he raised his eyebrows. 

—

When you were finished eating, you washed it down with the apple juice, then Joel packed up the basket and put it back in the wagon. When he settled back onto the blanket again, he had a serious look about him. 

He sat down with his legs folded to the side so his knees were toward you, and he braced his hand on the blanket, leaning toward you. He kissed you again.  He tasted like apples and you imagined he did, too.  As he pulled away, he read your face and cupped your cheek. "You're the most beautiful angel, darlin'," he smiled.  His gaze lingered, then he swallowed and looked down.  He sat up straighter and cleared his throat. He asked again, "We're givin' each other everything, right?" 

You nodded, then he continued, "So listen," then wet his lips and paused. "I would do anything for ya, peaches." He looked down. "Anything." He swallowed. "Anything to keep ya safe," he met your eyes and lowered his voice. "And anything to keep you mine." 

Your heart raced and you slowly nodded as he let it sink in.

"Get what I'm sayin', peaches?"

"Bad things," you nodded. 

His brows remained furrowed as he studied your face.  His voice was low and gruff.  "Yeah, you could say that."

You looked down to his shirt and the outline of your father's ring in his pocket. He continued, "and darlin', I've felt this way for some time."

Your chest fluttered.

He looked up at the leaves of the peach tree, and it hit you that this was where he found you that day. 

Your whole body felt warm, especially in the lace sleeves. He looked at you with anticipation and you admitted, "I had a feeling."

He lifted his eyebrows as he searched your eyes. "Okay," he whispered with a small nod. He looked down again. 

"Yeah," you replied.  ". . .and maybe you already did bad things."  Your chest pounded. He looked at you blankly, and once he blinked, you rephrased, "Necessary things. To be together." 

His jaw shifted back and forth. He looked at your mouth, then back up at your eyes. "Would ya wanna know?" 

Tension gathered between your eyebrows.  You took a deep breath, looked at his lips and watched his jaw clench. His eyes watered.  After a moment, you slowly shook your head no. He inhaled and his eyes narrowed. Your voice was a near whisper as you told him, "No. . . Doesn't matter now." 

Joel exhaled and nodded. He looked at you intensely and whispered, "Okay, baby."    

You didn't need to know. You told him, "We're together, that's all I care about."

"Me too, darlin'." He chuckled, then relaxed and said, “so glad we got each other.” He folded his knees toward you again, leaned in, and cupped your cheek, his eyes locked with yours. “Me and you, baby.” 

“You and me,” you whispered, lashes fluttering as his face drifted toward yours. 

—-

Your lips locked, and yours tingled with excitement. 

His hand moved to the back of your head.  His tongue parted your lips, and he pulled you into him as he became more passionate. 

As his kiss intensified, he gently lowered you into lying down on the blanket, with one of his knees  between yours. His hand ran up your side and came to a rest on your breast as his mouth devoured yours.  He palmed your breast, gently bit your lip, and his length hardened against your thigh. When he pulled back, he cupped your face and raised his eyebrows, and his voice was husky. "I'm never," he kissed your lips, then lowered his volume and looked into your eyes, "gonna let you go." His thumb stroked your temple.  His lips brushed yours, then kissed you deeper.  He pulled back, shook his head with a small smile, and his voice became a whisper as he repeated, "Never." 

Your skin prickled with goosebumps, Joel's beautiful face hovering over yours under the peach tree, his body pressed against yours.

"Good," you whispered, and took his head in both your hands. You pulled him down on you. He braced himself with one forearm on the blanket near your head and his other hand traveled back down your side, down your dress, and reached under the skirt of it to your thigh. His hand slid up your thigh and he squeezed it, then lifted your thigh against him. 

He lowered his hips to rest against yours, and his cock grew stiffer against you.  The warm shape of his stiff length made your whole body go weak. He lifted himself off you just long enough to get the skirt of your dress out of the way.  You felt warm and wet between your legs and didn't know how much of it was blood. You knew he didn't care, but it didn't entirely leave your mind. 

He had the front of it bunched up at your hips, with his hand between your legs.  You flinched as his palm glided over your panties, feeling the shape of your pad. But it didn't phase him at all. He gently reached into your panties. 

Your face tensed. “Remember, I–"

"I know, baby," he reassured you with kind eyes.

"What about the dress?”

“Dress don’t matter, darlin’." He kissed you again. "Long as you're feelin' good." He planted another kiss and pressed his hard-on against you again. "Are ya?" 

You nodded an unequivocal yes. It was certainly what your body wanted.  

"Hell, let's paint it red,” he mused. 

You relaxed and laughed softly. 

"No?" He asked with a smile, then leaned his forehead against yours. He kissed you gently.  

The time of the month wasn't ideal, but you wanted it. If you waited, he might think you weren't ready after all. Plus, you were more comfortable than you ever thought you could be. A month ago, you would have died at the thought of a man seeing any evidence of your period at all. But Joel was so reassuring, so comforting, and he really wanted all of you. He was turning it into something beautiful, and you had no doubt he felt that way.  He looked at you again, then asked, “Sure you’re feelin’ good enough?" He kissed you again.  “‘Cause that's all that matters.”

“I am,” you nodded earnestly.”

“You sure?”

"Joel," you sighed on the edge of irritation.

"Ok, darlin'."

He slid his hand down and exhaled vocally when his fingers met your warm, moist folds. He ran his fingers up and down your folds, moistening your clit, then he slowly, teasingly circled it. His cock swelled harder against you. "You wanna go to bed?"

You shook your head. "It's magical out here."

"That's right, peaches," he murmured lowly into your neck, lightly circling your clit with his moist fingers. His breath was warm and humid against your neck.  "Special, ain't it?"

You nodded, and pulled his head back down to yours. Your lips met again.  His thick fingers tensed, slid down, and prodded at your entrance. You tilted your hips and he gave a short, low "mm" as he brought his fingers back to your clit. 

His tongue slid against yours in rhythm with his fingers. His mouth grew hungrier for yours every moment as he massaged your most sensitive place.  He got you almost to the edge. You whimpered as his hands worked within the confines of your panties.  Then he asked,  "Let's take these off, hmm?"  You nodded. He started to do it, then looked at your face to confirm, "You want me to?" 

"I can do it," you lifted your hips and slid them down, and once they were mid-thigh, he finished taking them off. 

–

He lowered his torso against yours and his massive hand nudged your shoulder up toward him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he lifted you into sitting. He traced the back neckline of the dress and murmured, "want this on or off?"

You shrugged. 

"up to you, darlin'. But I sure would like to see ya." He kissed your neck and you could feel him smile against your skin. "If you're warm enough"

You were warm all over. You were so warm at your very core that it was hard to imagine ever being cold again. You asked, "you'll keep me warm, won't you?"

"Course I will."

You cracked a shy smile and planted your hands on the ground to lift your weight off the dress. Joel brought the dress up to your stomach, his fingers smearing it red, then you lifted your arms and he took it off. He planted delicate kisses on your chest at the base of your neck, and your shoulder as he gently nudged your bra straps off. Then he unclasped the back, and you let it fall in front of you. He put the bra aside and you were naked.  He folded the dress into a pillow and put it under your head. 

You looked at Joel's clothes and didn't say anything, but he replied to your silent question with a teasing smile. "no, I don't have to be so dressed..." you silently unbuttoned his pants, eye on his cock straining against the khakis, as he unbuttoned his shirt.  Before pulling down the zipper, you traced the hard shape of his cock, and his chest let out a nearly imperceptible growl at your first rub. 

He made quick work of the remaining shirt buttons, smearing a few of them red.  His chest flexed as he peeled the sleeves down his bulging arms. He took his undershirt off over his head, tousling his hair, which he didn’t fix.  It was the hottest you’d ever seen him. You were sitting back on  your hands, naked body laid out for him.  He looked at you lustily every few seconds as he took his pants off, then his boxers, leaving his commanding cock bobbing heavily before you.  You pulled your eyes back up to his face and he looked at you adoringly. 

–

He knelt on the blanket. Was this really going to happen? You reached out, and he nodded. You wrapped your hand around his shaft and whined, "I'm ready, you know I'm ready."

"Ready for what, darlin'?"

"To put our bodies together." 

He nodded. "yeah, baby. You're ready. Gonna be real special."

He got between your legs where a fluttering ache was pounding, begging for relief.  He held his cock in his hand. You felt your body making space for him. There was a place inside you that needed to be filled. He slowly lunged toward you and braced his hand on the blanket above your hip.  He ran his tip through your dripping folds and his manhood further hardened. He spread the moisture over his cock. He laid his hard cock on your mound and brought his face to yours again. He rested about half his weight on top of you, his bare body flush with yours, his forearms braced on the blanket. 

He kissed you deeply, grinding his erection against you, slick with your arousal and blood. Your lips embraced his and your mouth practically sucked in his tongue. He licked into you in rhythm with his slow thrusts against you. Your clit twitched against his cock and you lifted your hips, making him moan into your mouth.  You needed him in you yesterday. You lifted your hips again and his mouth curved into a smile against your lips. 

He reached between your legs and the breadth of his hand took up all the space. You whimpered at the first contact of the padding of his fingers with your naked heat. He slowly, lightly rubbed you as he kissed you, then slid his fingers down through your folds, gathering your moisture. He entered you with his middle finger, then his ring finger. You moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid all the way into your warm core. His cock swelled harder against your thigh as he pumped his thick digits in and out of you. He moaned softly, then added a third. Your hips rocked into his hand. 

You were tense, afraid of coming too soon. 

"Joel," you whimpered. 

"Yeah baby," he murmured.

"What if I–ohh–what if I come too soon."

He chuckled, "you can come, baby," he kept working his fingers inside you, pressing his upper palm into your clit. You sighed and the tension swelled in your gut. "'s'a good thing, darlin'. gets ya ready for this." He rolled his stiff manhood against you as he said it. "Nice 'n ready." 

"But Joel," you whined, unsure. "I want you inside"

"You wanna come on my cock?"

"Yeah, on your cock."

"Oh, baby," he moaned, his cock leaking against your thigh. "You will, baby. You will. You'll come again." 

"Really? 

He nodded. "Yeah. C'mon darlin, You'll come on my cock, too."

His eyes were sincere. He returned his attention to your clit and you let go. As you began to contract, he slid his fingers back inside you. "Oh, good girl," he sighed as you squeezed his fingers. "Like that, don't ya? Like squeezin' me?"

You nodded and whimpered, unable to speak as you rode out the orgasm. 

"Oh, baby."  He continued grinding against your hip and kissed you again as you recovered. 

He pumped three fingers again, and under his breath, he muttered, "good. . .good." He moaned and pushed his hips against you. "Now I've got ya stretched, nice and relaxed." 

"Joel," you begged. "Are you gonna–" 

“Oh darlin’, I’m comin’.” he whispered. “Ready to be full of me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. "Fill me with you," you begged. "Put it in." 

“Givin’ each other everything now,” he reminded you. “Can’t get it back.”

You nodded, “you can have it all.”

“And I’m gonna give it to ya, too.”

You nodded and your walls twitched in anticipation.

"Gonna give it all to ya."

He read your eyes and as you got lost in the black holes of his pupils, the clear fibers of his affection wrapped around you, tethering you to him and the moment. He pulled his hips back and his knees spread slightly.  You spread your legs to make room. He looked between your legs and the affection on his face faded into desire.  “My lands, peaches.” 

He hovered over you.  Your hands skimmed up his sides, and came to rest around his neck.  

He used his hand to notch himself at your entrance and pushed his tip inside, stretching you open. You gasped softly, breasts heaving in anticipation of the rest of it.  You dragged your feet toward your butt on the blanket, lifting your knees to frame his hips. 

“I love you, baby,” he whispered, and put his forehead against yours. 

“I love you too,” you whined, brows furrowed. 

His forehead lifted off yours, his lips returned to your mouth, and his hips pressed forward, inching his cock into you with a stretch.  His lips broke away from yours and his mouth stayed open.  He watched your face as his girth spread you open, dividing your walls.  You gasped and nodded for more.  He pushed further, taking you apart from yourself inch by inch. You imagined even a smidgen more girth wouldn’t feel good. He bowed his head and backed out an inch of his length, watching your body suck him back in as he pushed in a little more than he had before. 

“God damn,” he whispered, then wet his lips as he looked back up at you with half his length sheathed in your warmth. 

“You feel so good, joel”

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed. “You got no idea.” 

“I want it all,” you begged.

He nodded, “Okay, baby.” then slowly pushed his hips forward, gradually burying his length with some effort, stuffing you full of him.  “Oh, darlin’.” The look of pain on his face told you how hard he was trying not to slam into you. He was slow and gentle, and his tip pushed through your core with even more heft than you imagined.  Each inch of him spread you more and filled you fuller than you thought you could be. Your body made more space and he took it up right away. 

“Joel,” you breathed. 

He whispered your name and said, “you’re doin’ so good.” His flesh didn’t just complete you, it made you more than you were. He took you apart and made you something new, something wrapped around him so tight. “almost there, baby.” And then he groaned “Ohhhh, god,” as you swallowed up the rest of him. It was a perfect fit. 

You whimpered as he came to a rest. His cock filled up the whole space and made more for itself.  The fuzz of his balls brushed your skin. Your mouth hung open and you breathed, savoring the fullness of feeling him there inside you for the first time. 

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighed, staying all the way inside you. He pressed his lips into yours, then pulled back and asked, “You okay?”

You nodded, happy tears prickling your eyes. His brows knitted. 

“Are you okay?” you asked. 

He nodded. “First time in years,” he whispered, and looked up at the tree. His cock twitched inside you and his tip nudged your cervix. “You tell me when you’re ready, baby.”

“I’m ready,” you nodded. 

He looked you in the eyes again. “Our life starts now.” He withdrew most of his length, then let it back into you, his belly flush with yours while his cock dragged heavily inside you. He closed his eyes as your bodies became flush again. He retreated again at a snail’s pace, then pushed in a little faster. 

“Saved this just for me, didn’t ya?”

He met your eyes again, then added, “Never be anyone else.” 

He lowered his face for another kiss.  Each time his flesh filled you up you could hardly believe how your body hugged him.  It was like your body had been waiting for him all along.  It really had been. This was what your bodies were made to do. Complete each other.  

He looked at you and his brow furrowed again. 

You asked, "What? What, Joel?"

“Now that I’ve been inside ya,” he breathed, "I’m not sure I know how not to be.”

You knew exactly how he felt. You couldn't bear the thought of being pulled apart. 

He reached a slow but steady rhythm, gently filling you with his cock. You traced his shoulder, then his bicep.  His bare stomach was resting against your skin, his happy trail touching you with each thrust m. He had about half his weight on you, and he let gravity help as he thrust into you. You imagined it as a magnetism. Each time he retreated, your bodies pulled back together. He bowed his head and watched himself disappear between your legs, and watched your body clinging to his shaft, hugging him tight, trying to pull him back in, not letting him go. “God damn, baby,” he breathed as he watched. “most beautiful thing I ever seen.”

When your caress reached the crook of his elbow, he braced on one forearm so he could take your hand and interlace.his fingers with yours. He held your hand to his chest and whispered, “All yours, darlin’,” his hips still moving, his cock sliding snugly against every ridge of you . 

You nodded tearfully, pressing your palm into his chest, feeling the soft hair and the hard muscle. 

“Every beat of it, peaches.” 

Your other hand cupped his cheek, then slid up to tangle in his hair as his face returned to yours, kissing you as he buried his length in you. When your faces separated, you watched the surreal beauty of his form – his messy hair, his tan skin glimmering, his brown eyes flickering with affection as he filled you to the brim with his flesh. 

“Oh, baby, you feel so good”

“I–I’m so–it’s so–”

“Packed full of it, aren’t ya baby?”

You nodded. “It’s so much,” you whispered. “But not too much,” you quickly added. “‘s’perfect.”

“So perfect, darlin’--Ohhh god, baby-–always knew ya were.” 

All you saw was him, and the rhythm of his chest over yours. Beneath his heavy breaths and moans, leaves danced in the breeze, birds chirped, and the occasional piece of fruit thumped in the distance as it hit the ground.  “Oh baby, I've been starvin’ for this.” His hips moved steadily, filling you with his cock every second or so, whispering your name here and there, marveling at your beauty.  

“It feels so good, Joel.” 

“how’s it feel?”

“Meant to be there,” you whispered, then sighed as his cock dragged through your core, completing you again. “Like it’s filling my body” More than that–it was creating space for itself, space you didn’t have before, that's the part you didn't expect. It was moving the most intimate parts of you out of the way and replacing them with him. 

You tried to describe it.  “It’s like –”  He lowered his mouth to your neck and sucked “--oh, joel–it’s–it’s–.” 

“Oh, baby,” he sighed against your neck, his hips moving steadily. “I know it, darlin’,” he murmured, grinding his pelvis into yours with each smooth thrust. He slowed his hips, still grinding against you, stiff cock dragging inside you. “Meant to be right here.” Your leg wrapped around him and his thrusts became more measured, his pelvis closer against you, grinding into your clit. “Meant to be fillin’ you.”

The pleasure was swirling, nearly coming to a boil in your gut, humming for release against his front, around his cock. “I love you,” you breathed, lifting your hips into his. 

“Ohhh, baby I love you too,” he whispered with a smile and near laugh. “‘n’ I love how ya take it.” His eyes darted around your face affectionately, then he bowed his head to look at where your bodies met. “Look so pretty wrapped around this cock,” he looked back up at you with bright, glistening eyes. “Look so pretty, peaches.” Your clit twitched. His movements had your hips lifting into him all on their own. “Yeah, that’s right, darlin’.” You let yourself grind up into him. “Jus’ like that,” he whispered, his body  grinding against your mound as his cock moved within you. The tension hummed louder and tightened your core on the edge of bliss. You both moaned. 

“Now I want ya to come, peaches,” he said in a serious tone. “Ohh, oh baby—want ya to come and squeeze me real good, can ya do that?”

You nodded, biting your lip, vision getting blurry with the moisture in your eyes.  You couldn't take any more tension but unsure if or when the peak would overtake you. 

“C’mon, I got ya,” he breathed as you teetered on the edge. “Breathe, baby. c’mon.” You remembered to breathe, his pelvis grinded into yours again, and then you whimpered as the tension burst. “Jo–ohhhh,” your voice was shaky as it overtook you. Your clit spasmed and each wave pulsed outward through your body. Your tears overtook your eyelashes as you moaned and gasped. Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he groaned. 

“You–Ohgoddamn,” he muttered as though losing control. Then he groaned, bottomed out hard, and erupted with a shudder. A burst of warmth flooded your core, then your whole body. He dipped his head to kiss you as he came. His cock pulsed into your walls again and again and your walls squeezed in return. His lips pressed into yours, then his tongue. He kissed you and moaned into your mouth. He sucked and gently bit your bottom lip as he filled you.  He was filling you all the way up, every single part of you full of him, his essence rushing through you. 

There was before this and after this, you finally got it, after all this time he tried to make you see. You  understood everything. Like how there was so much beauty left in the world, and it was right there between you. It wasn’t an abstract wish, it was the physical presence of you and him, your bodies together, pulsing against each other’s most intimate parts, his seed spilling into you, his lips on yours, your bodies inseparable, on the ground in the orchard. You saved it for him. Your whole life led to him. 

His kiss became more tender as he finished coming. He pulled back and his eyes glistened as he read your face. 

You locked eyes for what felt like forever, with Joel still breathing heavily, most of his weight on top of you.

“I love you,” he whispered. 

“I love you, too.” 

His eyes fell to your mouth and he kissed you again.  “gonna pull out now, okay?”

Your lip trembled and your temples felt weak at the idea of your bodies not being joined. He could tell.

“It’s okay, darlin’. We’ll lay here, long as ya want.” He nodded at you and raised his eyebrows for permission to pull out.

You bit your lip and nodded. 

He lay half on top of you, with a hand on your breast. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “How did it–how was it?”

“Like nothin’ i’ve ever known, baby.” He sucked in a shaky breath that made you look down at his face and his cheeks were wet. 

–

You took a short nap like that, naked under the peach tree, until a dead leaf fell and tickled your arm and you jolted awake. A bird cawed at your sudden movement, and Joel asked, "you okay?" 

When you got up, you only put your underwear back on. Joel wrapped you in one of the blankets, put his arm around you as he brought you back inside. 

As you were walking back to the house, you heard the car noise again, toward the front of the orchard, and you froze, your eyes wide, looking toward the street. But this time it came with a breeze and the rustling of leaves. 

“Just the wind, darlin’. What’s got ya so jumpy?”

“I dunno,” you mumbled. “Sorry.” 

You didn’t realize you were jumpy.  Maybe since you found out Bill and Frank could come home soon, you kept expecting them. 

—-

When you got back inside, he laid the dress across the back of a chair in the living room and traced one of several red smudges with his fingers. There was bright red and dark red. "See? It's beautiful." He patted your hair. "gonna remember this forever." 

He ran a bath. You sat on the edge of the garden tub as the bath filled up, and he kneeled in front of you in his boxers. He curled his fingers into the waistband of your panties and you stood up as he helped you take them off. There was diluted  blood drying on your inner thighs. He dipped a sponge into the hot water to clean you. When you noticed a bit of his cum leaking out of you, it made you sad. You hoped he’d give you more. 

Joel got in the tub first, then you got between his legs and laid back. You laid in silence for a while, then said, “I loved that." Hearing yourself in the bathtub sounded crisper than usual. 

“What’d ya love, darlin'.”

“I love having you inside me.”

“Oh, baby, it’s my favorite place to be.”

"Good”

His cock twitched against your lower back. “‘Course it is, baby.” He kissed the crown of your head.  

"I feel empty now"

"'S'okay, darlin'. You're s'posed to. 'S'posed to want somethin' there." His hand came between your legs and gently fingered your floating curls.

He shifted his hips under you. "Gotta pace yourself, but it'll feel better and better, I promise."

"Okay."

"We’ll rest up and do it again later." 

"Yeah."

—---------

That night, you did it again.  He was deep inside you, pressing sweet kisses into your neck as you whimpered beneath him.

“How’s it feel,” he murmured into your neck. “Still feel good?”

“Feels good,” you whined

“S’only gonna get better, baby. Better every day.” He slowly retreated, then sighed "ohh, baby" as he filled you with his cock again. He was still fucking you slowly, carefully, grunting and moaning with your whimpers and sighs. His hair was messed up again, moving to the beat of his thrusts, and his neck veins were bulging. 

There was a loud rap at the door, startling you both.  Joel’s hand reflexively covered your mouth as he froze, then composed himself and completed one last slow thrust, one that felt even better with you frozen in fear.  

“Gonna be okay, baby,” he whispered, then pulled out. He slowly released his hand from your mouth, pressing a kiss into your lips. Your eyes were wide. You hadn't heard the car over your mutual pleasure.  "Gonna be okay," he repeated.  

He pulled on a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He took a gun out of his nightstand.  There was another loud rap at the door, longer this time. A deep voice with the same drawl as your husband. “JOEL, IT’S ME. OPEN UP.” 

Joel looked at you and whispered, "Tommy."  

Joel put the gun in the back of his jeans and shut the bedroom door behind him.  

—--

The front door creaked as Joel opened it. “Tommy.” You heard the slapping of a hand on a back as they greeted each other, then the door closed.  “Didn’t know ya were comin’, woulda gotten a room ready or–”

"Just dropped off Bill ‘n Frank.”

“Shhhh.”

“Hey, what the hell's goin' on? Where's the kid?”

“Tell’em she’s safe.  Asleep upstairs."

"You don't think she'd wanna see'em?"

"No sense in wakin' her up." 

There was a long pause, then Joel asked, “Why’d ya drive’em?" 

“Their truck gave out.” After a long pause, Tommy added “Frank said somethin’s off with you.” 

“What're you talkin’ about? Why would Frank said that?” 

"Said ya smiled. Made'em uneasy." 

Joel scoffed. "I was bein' nice."

Tommy laughed. "I told'em you're weird about hospitals, prolly overcompensatin'. Told'em everything's fine. . ."

Joel said, "good, ‘cause everything is."

"You gonna invite me in?"

"Come on in." A few footsteps, then the front door shut. 

Tommy asked, “She’s upstairs?” 

Tommy’s boots thudded away from Joel's bedroom, toward the stairs. 

“Tommy, wait.”  

Tommy didn’t wait.  Two sets of footsteps climbed the stairs, with Joel’s quieter steps following Tommy's boots. You couldn't hear their conversation. A door opened and closed upstairs. Then another. And another.  You turned the ring on your finger.

Footsteps, then indistinct heated words.

The lighter set of footsteps descended the stairs with the boots following behind.  Tommy's voice got closer on the way down the stairs. “somethin’ ain't right here.”

The front door locked before Tommy made it down.  

Joel was calm. “Slow down, take a breath.”

Tommy replied, “I don’t like that look you’re givin’ me, brother.”

Joel told him, “You need to sit down and listen to me.”

“Joel, if I don’t come back, Bill’s comin’ over here.” 

"She's safe," Joel insisted. "C'mere, let's have a drink."

The footsteps faded into the living room, then stopped abruptly. "What the hell's that?" The footsteps slowly resumed, then stopped again. Then, the rustling of fabric.  Tommy's voice was shaky. "What the hell is this, Joel?"

"Shhhhh. Ain't what ya think." 

"Don't look like it," Tommy laughed in bad humor, then composed his nerves into calm anger. "What'd you do, Joel?"

"Nothin', Tommy. It’s her period, damn. Now sit down."

"I may be the only one who knows how dangerous you are, but don't act like I don't fuckin’ know.” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  

Joel responded, “You don’t."

You held your neck, looking around the room. Your pulse was pounding against the heel of your palm.

“I don't? What the hell’s that s'posed to mean?”

“I’m in love with her, Tommy." Your heart swelled. 

"Jesus. . ." 

Tommy mumbled something else, and Joel responded, “She's not a kid." 

"She's Bill's kid," Tommy countered. 

"Not anymore. And I’ll do anything to keep her." After a pause, Joel added, “I mean anything.”

"I fuckin' know you do," Tommy snapped. 

"Then we’re clear," Joel said. "Tell'em ya didn't wanna wake her up."

"Not ‘til I see her," Tommy insisted. 

There was a beat of silence, then Joel offered, "Cool off first, have a drink. Don't wanna scare her."

Your heart raced. Their voices became indistinct as they moved towards the kitchen.

—---------

You sat on the bed stunned. Your parents were home, and you weren't as happy as you imagined you'd be to hear it.  You were wholly preoccupied by Tommy's words. Joel was dangerous. You had already come to know it in your heart, but hearing someone else say it out loud had your mind racing. You never thought about what that meant for you. The worst part was the fear in Tommy’s voice. Would Joel do something to Tommy? His own brother? They were family. You and Joel were family. 

You got up and went into Joel's closet.  You pulled out a flannel and put it on over your nightgown.  You built up your courage, then slowly opened Joel’s bedroom door. 

—---------------

You emerged from the bedroom, unsure how either of them would react. You pulled the flannel over your hands, hiding the ring. As you tiptoed into the living room, Joel was on the sofa facing away from you. Tommy was facing you and saw you first. He was holding a mostly empty glass of whiskey. Joel's glass was already empty on the coffee table.  Tommy sat upright and swallowed. He put his glass down on the side table. 

“Hey,” Tommy's voice was soft, like he didn't want to startle you.  “You okay?” 

Joel looked over his shoulder, then turned his body. 

“Yeah,” you nodded and walked over to them, looking at Joel.  Joel's face softened as he looked at you.  You sat on one of Joel’s thighs, your bare feet on the floor holding some of your weight.

“They're home, darlin’,” Joel said and looked at you with pleading eyes.  “wanna go now, or let’em get some rest, see’em in the mornin’?”

You didn’t hesitate. “Let’em get some rest.” 

Tommy sat back and raised his eyebrows in surprise. When you looked right at him, the dress caught your eye on the other chair and your chest felt hot. 

Joel cradled your head with one hand and kissed you on the cheek. “Ok, peaches. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight, then go back to bed."

You looked at Joel hesitantly. He nodded toward Tommy and flexed his jaw.

Tommy watched you curiously as you approached. You gave him a loose hug around the neck and the lightest peck on the cheek. 

“Night, sweetie,” Tommy mumbled. 

You went back to Joel's lap and put your arms around his neck. He looked at you and you searched his eyes. He gave you a chaste kiss on the lips and whispered, "Go on. I'll be there soon," with a wink. His hand was big and warm on your back as you stood up to walk away.

—

Before you closed the bedroom door behind you, Tommy said, "Okay, she's not a kid. . . Don't mean it's right."

Their conversation became indistinct until Tommy was leaving a few minutes later. 

Joel said, “I’ll leave it unlocked.  You can stay upstairs.” 

The front door opened and closed. 

—------

You weren't planning on it but as soon as the front door began to close, your legs carried you into Joel's bathroom, and your shaking hand closed the door. You sat on the tiled floor against the door. Your heart pounded. Joel would never do anything to hurt you. Why was your body reacting this way? Your eyes felt weak. You didn't want him to see you scared or upset, but this couldn't be much better. You closed your eyes and tried to get back to that place you were in the orchard where everything in the universe made sense. 

Joel came into the bedroom and shut the door behind him. "Aw, baby" he said to himself as he realized where you were.  He took off his pants and put the gun back in the drawer, then approached the bathroom door. "You in there, peaches?” 

“Yeah,” you managed weakly. 

“Can I come in?” Joel tried to open the door and found it was locked.

“Not now.” You wanted to stop crying first. 

After a moment of silence, he slid down the other side of the door and sat down.  “Can ya talk to me, baby?”

You sniffled, then whined, “I dunno what to say.” 

Joel sighed and you heard the soft thud of his head resting against the other side of the door. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whimpered.

“We’re a family now, baby. Gotta work through whatever you’re feelin’.” 

You scooted back and slowly opened the door. 

Joel came in and sat on the tile next to you, your backs against the door.  He stroked your thigh. His voice was soft. “Wanna come back to bed or wanna talk in here?”

“Here.”

“Okay,” he whispered. He was studying your eyes, desperate to read them. 

You winced with a cramp and put your hand where it hurt.  He went to get you a pill and came back.  He handed you the pill and a glass of water. “Want me to run you a bath?”

You shook your head no.  You didn't need a third bath.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“What’s wrong?” you repeated. 

You looked at him, hating the fact that he was going to make you ask him. Earlier, you said you didn't want to know. You wanted it to stay an abstract, romantic concept that he would kill for you. But the way Tommy was talking, you felt like you needed something. You felt like you needed to know Joel better.

Joel took a deep breath in through his nose.  His voice was soft and careful.  “Tommy’s my brother, and I love’m, but .. .sometimes, brothers. . . .” He was searching for words, and at the same time, searching your face for an out.  He gave up and his voice dropped an octave. “What’d ya hear, darlin’?”

You heard the words come out of your mouth before you could stop them. "How'd you kill him?" 

Joel squinted and searched your face. “Who?”

“What happened to Jesse?” you asked. Joel looked up at the ceiling and his nostrils flared. His chest expanded with a calming breath. You continued, “I don’t care about him at all. I don’t even care if you killed him but I wanna know."

"Thought ya didn't wanna know."

"Now I do." 

“I dunno if that’s a good idea, peaches.” 

“You said you’d do anything for me. This is what I need, I need you to tell me.” 

Joel sighed and swallowed, then nodded.  “There was an accident.”

"What kind of accident?"

"He fell." 

“What? Like from a tree?”

“No, when he was diggin’.”  

You felt lightheaded imagining the garden beds, and the way Joel tucked the pumpkin flower behind your ear. Something told you he was still out there. You tried not to show anything on your face. 

You asked, “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“‘Cause it was my fault. I scared him. Didn't want ya to be afraid."   

“What happened?“

“Won’t do ya any good knowin’ that, darlin’.” Joel sighed.  “Might make ya feel bad.” 

“I don’t care, just tell me.” What bothered you was that it wasn't even serious with the boy. It was nothing like it was with Joel. So Joel didn't have to do whatever he did. All Joel had to do was love you and you would've dropped everything else in an instant. All Joel had to do was hug you.  You really believed that. 

“He was gonna hurt ya, darlin'."  You found that hard to believe, but heard him out.  You reflexively squinted but tried not to look too skeptical.

"Hurt me how."

“He was talkin’ like. . . he was talkin’ disrespectful.”

Your face burned, thoughts flying around in your head about what he possibly could have said.  

Joel did a double take at your face and noticed how embarrassed you were. “Darlin’, you really don’t need to be hearin’ this.” 

“Just tell me.” 

"So when he tried to touch ya. . .” 

“You were watching us?”

“I was worried, darlin’. Just lookin’ out for ya.” 

“So you saw me stop it, then.” 

“Sure did, and I was proud of ya.” There was nothing to be proud of.  It wasn't on any moral grounds, you were just nervous in Joel's orchard. And apparently, you had every reason to be. 

“So what happened?”

“So, next time we were workin', it came up again. . ." 

Your mouth felt dry. 

Joel continued, "I told him that’s not how to treat a woman, that you deserved better.” 

Your heart pounded. “And you were really mad, that's why he fell.”

Joel nodded, and you nodded.  You could picture the rest of it, but you didn't want to. You imagined that when he fell, that wasn't the end of it. 

You took his hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

Joel kissed your hand and breathed a sigh of relief. 

“And thanks for doing that," you added.

Joel squinted at you, taken aback. “Doin’ what, darlin’?”

“Whatever you had to do. . . for me.”

Joel studied your face as though it might have been a trick.  It wasn’t. He slowly nodded.  He kissed your hand again.  “You don’t hate me.”

“Of course I don’t hate you, I love you.”

Joel’s eyes watered.  “This is true love, baby. Unconditional.” 

You asked, “Can I ask you something else?” 

“Anything, peaches.” 

"Who else?”

"Uh," Joel squinted. 

"I asked you how you killed him, and you asked who." 

"Oh, darlin'," he chuckled. 

"Did Abe really leave?"

Joel inhaled then puffed out his cheeks as he let out the breath and hesitantly shook his head no.  

“He was in bad shape when I found him.  Gettin’ sick, talkin’ crazy..” 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were already scared. . . didn’t wanna make it worse.” 

You barely nodded, trying to process all this, wondering if there was more to it, but consciously pushing the thought away.  You wondered whether you would've been more or less scared if you knew something happened to Abe. 

"You're a smart girl, peaches." 

“What’d Tommy mean when he said you’re dangerous?”

Joel wiggled his jaw and looked away, then back at you.  “I’ve made some mistakes.  Used to let my temper get the best of me.”  He looked down. “Don’t drink like I used to.”  

He scooted around on the tile to face you. He picked up both your hands and looked at you with big, pleading eyes.  “But no matter what, you gotta believe I would never, ever hurt you, baby." His eyes were glistening. "There’s no part'a me that would. I’d sooner hurt myself.” 

You looked at his mouth and just as you saw the smallest quiver, he wet his lips and swallowed.

You whispered, “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”  

“Good.” He sighed in relief. 

You took your hands away and tightened the flannel around you, then said, “and you wouldn’t hurt anyone I love, because that would hurt me."

Joel swallowed and inhaled through his nose, waiting uncomfortably for you to continue.  

You looked at each other for a few seconds, then you asked, “Are Bill and Frank gonna be okay here?”

He looked away, then back at you before muttering, “I hope so, darlin'.” 

“Even if we can't be together right away?”

Joel squinted at you incredulously.  “What're you talkin’ ‘bout, can’t be together?" He scoffed coldly, making your temples hurt. "I’m sure as hell not lettin’ Tommy tell me what to do. You gonna let them tell you what to do?”  

“No. . .” You didn’t know what else to say. 

“We talked about this, darlin’. You change your mind?”

You shook your head.  “Guess I’m still nervous. Thought maybe it'd take time." 

Joel clenched his jaw, opened his mouth to speak. Then closed it again. When he did speak, he was calm and measured.  “There’s no scenario where we’re not together, peaches." He raised his eyebrows at you and added flatly, "We promised each other forever.”

“I know,” you whispered. 

“And I meant it,” he added with a hint of accusation. 

You protested, “I did, too.” You did. 

"Well I still mean it."

"I do, too." You weren't lying. Somehow, you didn't want it any less. If anything, your heart wanted it more. You wondered if you went too far in your questions. 

He pried your hands off the flannel to hold them. You tried to relax but your hands were still tense. 

He dipped his head to make eye contact with you and didn't blink. “You and me together. No matter what.” He closed his eyes for a breath and sighed. When his eyes met yours again, he added, “No matter where.”

Your heart fluttered.“No matter where?”

He nodded with a deep inhale through his nose. His eyes wandered, then found yours again. “yeah, no matter where."

This tugged at your heart. Was he really willing to take you out? 

"There's another town . . . Ain't easy gettin’ there, but I reckon if we're real careful. . .”

You pondered it silently.  You wanted to see the world outside, but you never thought about moving. You wanted to live with Joel on this land forever, but you wanted your parents to be okay, too.  Leaving altogether seemed so sudden, so huge. 

You asked, “Really? You would take me out?”

“Scares me to death,” he admitted. "But I just wanna be with you, peaches."

You stayed quiet for a minute. 

"Ain't right they kept ya here all your life," he muttered. 

The thought of leaving forever was scary, but if that's what it took to keep your parents safe, you would. Joel was your home anyway. You could feel at home anywhere with him. 

You asked, “Would I get to say goodbye?”

His mouth tensed and he looked at the floor.

"Not out loud," you conceded. "But could I see them again first?"

He was quiet, reading your face. "If that's what ya need," he nodded somberly. 

“Spend a little time with them?” You asked. 

“How much time?” Joel countered. 

“I don’t know, a few days?”

“You wanna be apart that long?”

“No, but. . . no”

Joel sighed. “Let’s figure this out tomorrow, k?” 

He cradled your head and whispered, “We’ll figure it out.” He pressed his lips into yours, giving you the slowest, most tender kiss.  He pulled back and your eyes clouded up.  

“I love you,” you whispered. “More than anything.”

He nodded, tears in his eyes. 

You added, “And there’s no ‘but’. I’ll go anywhere to be with you.” 

He pulled you into straddling him. Your arms wrapped around him all on their own and you were soothed. It was true, you had given him everything. You were hollow without it, without him. But up against his body, wrapped in his big arms, you felt complete again. You felt safe. 

You could feel his manhood beneath you, warm and soft. He hugged you tight and drew in a ragged breath. He held you and stroked your head for a minute. His cock hardened a little with your crotch against it.  You were beginning to feel the painkiller. “Sorry, baby,” he whispered.  You yawned.  “Thought we’d have more time.”  The front door opened, and you flinched. 

“Just Tommy," Joel whispered. "He’s gonna stay upstairs tonight, okay?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Let’s go to bed, baby.” 

You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and stood up. He hooked his thumbs under the flannel collar to help you take it off, but you pulled it tighter around yourself.

Joel pulled his hands away, then rubbed your back. "Okay, darlin'." 

You got in bed, curled up on your side. Joel draped his arm over you and asked, “this okay?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded and loosely laced your fingers with his in front of you. 

“‘S’gonna be fine, baby. We’ll figure it out.” 

“I don’t wanna be apart,” you sniffled. 

“We’re not gonna be,” he reassured you.  “Ever.” 

-----

THIS IS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. AND YOU WILL HAVE MORE SEX.

However, this is on soft hiatus until after Halloween unless i really feel like putting out the next chapter. Too many seasonal things to cook.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging <3

I'll reblog or comment with Lincoln tag list.

@toxicfics for notifications. The tag list is not long for this world.

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[hiraeth-if]

DEMO (TBD) | INTROS | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

Hiraeth is an 18+ supernatural mystery, that explores the complexities of love, loss, and the unshakable pull of home, set against the backdrop of a town shrouded in mystery and darkness.

You’ve built a successful career, started a new life, and finally found your place among new friends, miles away from the small town you once called home. But just when you thought you’d left that life behind, your brother calls in a panic—your mother has died suddenly in her sleep. Now, you’re forced to return and confront the past you tried so hard to escape.

As you settle your mother’s affairs, long-buried memories and forgotten connections begin to resurface. Your home town has always felt off, but it turns out to be steeped in unsettling mysteries that seem to revolve around your family, pulling you into a dark web of supernatural forces and ancient secrets. With each discovery, the line between your family’s past and the town’s fate becomes more blurred, and the closer you get to the truth, the more dangerous it becomes.

Can you unravel the truth behind your mother’s death, navigate the town’s strange supernatural forces, and maybe even find love amidst the chaos? Or will the town’s dark pull consume you before you can save yourself—or anyone else?

Content warnings include: explicit language, sexual themes, substance use, violence, death, grief, trauma, and possible unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Design Your MC: Customize everything from your character’s name, appearance, clothing style, living situation, to their sexuality and gender identity. Tailor your MC to fit your vision.

Career Choices: Choose from 5 distinct jobs—Artist, Writer, Teacher, Private Investigator, or Bartender—each with unique scenes, stats effects, and side characters to interact with, influencing how you approach the town’s mysteries and the bonds you build.

Curate Your Personality: Shape how your MC reacts to the strange events of Hiearth, from calm and collected to impulsive and emotional. Your choices will influence how other characters view and interact with you.

Romance Options: Develop deep, meaningful relationships with 1 of 4 love interests, including your childhood best friend, your ex, a mysterious new comer, or the son of the town's most powerful family. Pursue solo or poly relationships, each with its own layers and dynamics.

Explore and Discover: As you dig into the town’s dark past and your own forgotten memories, you'll encounter supernatural elements, ancient family secrets, and long-buried powers that shape your destiny.

Branching Narratives: The choices you make don’t just affect you—they can mend or break relationships with other characters, help you discover certain clues, or effect the town, altering some of the course of the story.

Niccolo [he/him] – Niccolo, the son of Hiraeth’s most powerful family, is a few years older than you and a figure you’ve only heard about through rumors. Descending from one of the town's founders, his life is defined by privilege, yet wealth and indulgence never seem to satisfy him. He seeks out fleeting thrills—cycling through lovers, dabbling in drugs, or instigating fights—but only art truly captivates him. When he's not out partying, Nicco spends hours in galleries or locked away in his studio, trying to capture the beauty of life that constantly eludes him. His reckless nature is tempered by a charm that’s magnetic, flirty, and dangerous in equal measure, always hiding a deeper restlessness beneath the surface.

Appearance – Nicco has fawn skin, sharp features, and perfectly tousled black curls that add to his hauntingly elegant look. His dark, bottomless eyes exude a mysterious intensity, hinting at a life far older than his years. His style is tailored dark clothing, favoring leather jackets, sleek trousers, and crisp button-ups. Rings and necklaces complete his look, adding to his timeless sophistication, though his polished appearance conceals the chaos that brews just beneath.

Althea [she/her] – New to you and Hiraeth, Althea and her nomadic family recently moved into a once-abandoned apartment building at the town's edge. Their arrived is far from coincidental, and there’s more history between her family and the town than she realizes. Fiercely protective and quick to fight, Althea’s guarded nature hides a deeply loyal, soft side known only to her loved ones. Her sharp reflexes and predatory grace hint at something primal she struggles to control. When not skateboarding, she can be found ice skating at the local rink.

Appearance: Althea has mahogany skin and golden brown eyes that gleam dangerously when angered. Her shoulder-length black hair is styled in a full, natural afro. She favors practical, clothes like baggy tees, crop tops, high-waisted cargo jeans, and flannels, which conceal scars linked to her family's buried secret. Despite her tough style, she carries herself with a quiet elegance, always prepared for whatever comes her way.

Magnus [he/they] – Magnus is your ex, a childhood friend you’ve known since kindergarten and dated in high school. The two of broke up when you left for college, and you haven’t spoken to him since. They now run the Witch’s Brew café, a family business passed down from their mother’s side. When not managing the café, Magnus enjoys thrifting, gardening, and composing music effortlessly. His personality is bubbly and humorous, with a laugh that’s oddly melodic, capable of shifting between playful and reflective moods, always leaving people curious about the depths beneath.

Appearance: Magnus has honey brown eyes, golden skin, and a medium-length wolf cut styled half-up. His gender-neutral style blends earthy tones with pops of color, often wearing crocheted sweaters, embroidered vests, skirts, and loose pants. Their outfits are always paired with vintage jewelry, each with a story to tell. There's an ethereal quality to their appearance, as if they belong to another world, yet they fit perfectly into the one they inhabit.

Elias [he/him] – Elias is your childhood best friend, and like Magnus, you’ve known each other since kindergarten. His family, the MacConnells, have a longstanding rivalry with the mayor’s family, but Elias isn’t concerned with politics. He prefers books, writing, and swimming, which suits his quiet, disciplined nature. When not helping his mother with real estate or attending family events, Elias retreats to his cabin, finding peace in the lake where he feels a deep, ancient connection. Though calm and controlled now, he’s changed from the crybaby you once knew, becoming someone who hides his emotions beneath a serene exterior.

Appearance: Elias has pale cameo skin and long platinum-blond hair, often worn in loose waves. His sharp blue eyes, framed by glasses, add to his studious look. His style is comfortable and put together—Oxford platforms, knit sweaters, oversized sweatshirts, overalls, and well-worn jeans. He always carries a leather canvas bag filled with his many unfinished thoughts and stories.

[magnuspanoptes]

the thing about archivist sasha is that. you gotta write jon out of existence for it to work. the web marked him specifically because it singled him out as the agent that would help fulfill its designs and jonah's primary reason for picking jon was also that he came pre-marked by the most dangerous, bothersome entity. bootstrap paradox type plot point. ergo in a universe where he isn't archivist, mr spider never happened, but mr spider is a defining character backstory moment for him. he would've never joined the magnus institute if he hadn't had that traumatic episode. so. to conceive an archivist sasha au a) you have to give sasha her own version of a guest for mr spider; b) jon isn't marked by the web and is a completely different person because of it and doesn't work at the institute. otherwise, to explain his presence there you have to give him a traumatic episode with some other entity (like tim and the stranger)

now you can just say wow what the hell this is fanfiction you can do whatever you want forever. thats true ✌️ unfortunately i have the overthinker's curse and cannot overlook this. also jon and elias's fates are entwined in every universe amen

[webdesigncourse99]

 From Aesthetics to Zenith: The ABCs of Web Design

Unlock the power of effective web design through our comprehensive web design course in Delhi. Learn how a well-designed website can elevate your online presence, engage visitors, and drive business success in today's digital landscape.

[charseraph]

what do your tags mean?

Definitions and directory

#pink aesthetic — Definition.

#destinations — Surreal scenes and backdrops, both visual and written, implied and explicitly described, varying degrees of abstract.

#ambiguous in a 🌅 kind of way — Glowing and dark forms, presences, and structures.

#fashion — Objects worn by humanity. Clothing, accessories, tattoos, vehicles, weapons, book sleeves, and certain architecture. Graphics that could be used as textile or inspiration for an avant-garde fashion line.

#shoes that can and will kill you: viewer or wearer — Novel shoes or forms that could inspire shoe design. Killing is defined both as injury and awe.

#returnful — Heartache and longing.

#speakerbreaker — Cybersigilism, aggrogoth, anothergraphic.org type text distortion. Frequent chrome and glassy material.

#proctor godlike — Posts that embody the attitude or appearance of or about proctor gods, benevolent but ominous overseers/representatives/indicators of some aspect of reality.

#bad endinglike — Posts that capture an aspect of Bad Ending, my militaristic sci fi setting. Military aircraft, skinned animals, dark buildings, strange technology, fuzzy and sharp graphs and censors, black and white.

#sundownlike — Posts that capture an aspect of Sundown, my setting in the distant future where most stars have died and all organic sophonts have gone extinct. Dark expanses, light rays, orbits, faint stars, rainbows in the dark.

#boalike — Posts that reflects one of four ideas of my setting BOA: machines that could be sentient, how humans would interact with sentient machines, how they would be depicted in art, and the complexity and colors of a theoretical BOA diagram.

#crownlike — What crown fashion, technology, architecture, and sentiments look like. Snowy deserts, pale and black brutalism, fashion, and electronics, blotchy calligraphic asemic, puffer material, solid primary color shapes.

#boxkitelike — Same for boxkites. Graphics like dewy spider webs. Clashing colors. Blobs and radial symmetry.

#towerlike — Same for towers. Dense rectangular repetitive monochrome graphics and jaxlike forms.

#trumpetlike — Same for trumpets. Smooth red and unfocused organic noise.

#wardlike — Same for wards. Inhospitable brutalism, foggy grasslands, and concrete tubes.

#unnamed supercomputer — What a Humans of New York style compendium of random seedlets (sophont AI) in my optimistic sci-fi setting would look like.

#lovecore — Posts that exhibit or inspire love.

#I look like this — Personal aesthetic.

@speakerbroke Aesthetic blog that compiles the best of speakerbreaker, ambiguous, I look like this, and the like.

[zerocoded]

summary: you and taeha were born to be each other's only comfort.

authors note: beom taeha is hot and everything but he also needs comfort, am i right? idk, i felt like writing this, i'm sorry if it's bad, it's been a month or something that i don't sit down to write anything, UNI HAS BEEN MURDERING ME.

warnings and tags: oc x beom taeha • reader x beom taeha • lil angsty hehe • hurt/comfort • one kissy kissy • sfw content.

word count: 2k

it wouldn't be a stretch to say that beom taeha was your friend, but he made it seem as though you were complete strangers. that was the heir's art—luring his victims into a labyrinth of deception with nothing more than his charm and influence.

you and taeha grew up side by side, a bond carefully orchestrated by billionaire fathers with grand ambitions for their offspring. in a world ruled by predatory men and money-hungry beasts, you were both caught in a twisted web designed to transform you into something beyond human.

as the years passed, the scars of your shared past became both a burden and a weapon. once victims, you had slowly morphed into the very predators you once despised. each day was a silent battle between the lingering pain of your upbringing and the intoxicating allure of power and control.

in the dead of night, when the city slept under a veil of melancholy, you and taeha would meet in secret. these clandestine encounters were a mix of bitter reminiscence and unspoken vows of retribution. while taeha's smile masked a soul tormented by old wounds, yours revealed the weight of a thousand unspoken truths. together, you navigated a fragile alliance—both partners in a game of revenge and rivals bound by a shared destiny.

at some point, your paths were forcibly torn apart. no longer useful for your parents' grand designs, you were discarded as if the bond you once shared was nothing more than a convenient tool. the unbreakable ride-or-die pact of your childhood was shattered, leaving only memories of what had been. it wasn't until years later that you encountered beom taeha again—by then, he had become a hardened man molded by betrayal and loss, while you emerged as a resilient woman, defined by the quiet strength born of survival.

as teenagers, you both navigated the same high school corridors, where memories of a shared past resurfaced like a hazy dream. the unspoken chemistry between you felt almost magnetic—a mysterious pull that defied explanation. in the midst of youthful longing, love became intertwined with taeha’s all-consuming obsession and subtle manipulation. what began as a simple childhood crush gradually deepened into a desperate yearning as the years passed.

while every other girl clamored for taeha’s attention, you maintained a quiet resolve, secretly cherishing the moments that slipped away unnoticed. furtive kisses after class and stolen glances on the walk home became the language of your hidden connection—a silent rebellion against a world that sought to exploit your vulnerabilities. these tender exchanges, born from a past marred by betrayal and control, provided a fragile sanctuary in the midst of adolescent chaos.

even as the pressures of high school and the looming shadows of your parents’ ambitions threatened to tear you apart, those secret moments stitched together the fabric of your bond. in the quiet corners of classrooms and the dim glow of twilight, you both dared to dream of a future where love might overcome the legacy of manipulation—a future where the intensity of your connection could transform pain into a promise of liberation.

and then you graduated. at graduation, taeha made you feel cherished, his every look and touch a reminder of the love you both once thought was invincible. even as you stepped into the unknown future, his presence lingered like a soft echo of your shared past.

soon after, a shift began to reveal itself. taeha, once content with the quiet rebellion of stolen kisses and secret smiles, set his sights on a bolder destiny. no longer willing to be a mere pawn in his father's grand design, he craved to become the rightful heir of the family empire—defiantly casting aside the shadow of his older brother. it was a wild ambition, as unpredictable and fierce as taeha himself.

taeha changed just right before your eyes. his gentle, familiar gaze hardened into one of steely determination, and the playful charm you once knew transformed into a relentless drive for power. in this metamorphosis, you saw the man who had once whispered dreams of escape now embracing the very legacy that once imprisoned him. every encounter was tinged with both the warmth of past affections and the cold fire of newfound ambition.

in the quiet moments between the chaos of his rising influence and the bittersweet memories of your childhood, you found yourself at a crossroads. the love you shared was still there, echoing in the secret corners of your heart, but it now danced with the shadows of obsession and manipulation.

after years of deciphering the subtle language in taeha’s eyes and the quiet signals in his every habit, you had become an expert at reading him. in moments like this, seated at a dinner with his family, you couldn’t help but wonder if meeting beom taeha again had been a mistake. the conversation had taken an all-too-familiar turn—a heated debate between his older brother and taeha resurfacing old rivalries. taehee, fresh from a long journey in korea, was livid upon discovering that his little brother was derailing his own ambitions to claim their father’s legacy. and as if that weren’t enough, taehee’s long-standing habit of hitting on you only added to the charged atmosphere.

you sat at the table, the hum of polite chatter masking the tension that knotted the air. every glance, every carefully chosen word, hinted at unresolved battles from the past. taeha’s eyes, once a safe harbor of familiar affection, now betrayed a storm of conflicted ambition and pain.

you didn't like that look a bit.

as the dinner progressed, the conversation grew sharper, more pointed. taehee’s barbed remarks sliced through the fragile calm, forcing you to confront the bitter reality of family loyalty and betrayal. in that public setting, you were caught in the middle of a feud that had outgrown youthful rivalry and matured into something far darker—a relentless clash of wills and hidden wounds.

in the midst of the tense dinner, the atmosphere had grown unbearably heavy. the table had become a battleground where years of suppressed pain and rivalry erupted into harsh words and bitter accusations. taehee’s voice, laced with venom, had sliced through the fragile calm that once lingered between you and taeha. his words, meant to wound and diminish, had finally become too much. with one final, cutting remark, taehee declared, "you don't even have real blood, start minding your own business and let me handle father's legacy."

in that instant, something inside taeha broke. his eyes, usually so composed and mysterious, ignited with a raw, seething anger. without a word, he abruptly pushed back his chair and stood up, his expression contorted by a mix of fury and despair. before anyone could react, he turned and stormed out of the room, leaving behind stunned silence and a scattering of disbelieving glances.

you felt your heart seize in protest. without a second thought, you excused yourself from the table and followed after him, your footsteps quickening as you ventured into the cool, rain-kissed night.

the city outside was a maze of neon reflections and damp pavements, the familiar hum of distant traffic merging with the soft patter of rain. you could barely see through the haze of streetlights as you tracked his retreating figure. eventually, you found him in a narrow, deserted alleyway behind a row of shuttered shops. there, under the flickering glow of a lone streetlamp, taeha stood with his back turned, his silhouette tense and rigid. his fists were clenched at his sides, and his posture screamed of unresolved torment.

you searched for jay with your eyes, but the bodyguard seemed to have gotten the memo to not bother his boss at the moment and maitain his distance. you, however, was the only one brave enough to choose to be close to the youngest beom at moments like this.

"taeha," you called softly, your voice trembling with concern. the sound of your voice seemed to reach him, and he paused for a moment, his body still but his head still turned away. you stepped closer, your heart aching at the sight of the pain etched so deeply into his stance.

"why did you leave?" you asked, your tone gentle yet urgent, as if afraid that the question itself might shatter the delicate remnants of calm you hoped to restore. there was a long, heavy silence before he finally answered, his voice a rough whisper, "i might kill that bastard, y/n, i swear."

his anger was so palpable you almost flinched.

you moved closer still, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. "taeha, listen to me—you are so much more than what they claim. please, don't let their words drown out the truth of who you are. taehee is an asshole, you know that."

for a moment, his tense posture faltered. his eyes, glistening with a storm of conflicting emotions—anger, hurt, and a deep-seated longing for solace—met yours. "yeah, that fucker deserves death," he murmured, his voice cracking with vulnerability. "i feel so damned lost in all of it—the anger, the betrayal, the weight of expectations. it’s like i’m trapped in a cycle i can’t break. i hate being in that house."

"i know it feels overwhelming," you replied softly, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting embrace. "but you don't have to carry this alone. they made us to be each other's comfort, isn't that right?"

taeha leaned into your embrace, his body trembling as if trying to release years of pent-up pain. "i'll kill them all, y/n," he admitted, his voice barely audible over the distant city sounds. "i'll kill them and restart with you from scratch, that's my wish."

you gently stroked his hair, letting your fingers trace the lines of his face as if trying to etch the memory of his true self into your heart. "i believe you, taeha," you whispered.

and you did. sometimes you wish everyone was dead except taeha too.

maybe that’s what you both were made for: complete each other’s crimes.

the night deepened around you both, and together you began walking through the deserted streets. the neon lights blurred into a comforting glow as you recounted memories of childhood escapades—of secret hideaways and midnight rendezvous under starry skies. with every step, the weight of the evening’s turmoil started to lift, replaced by the shared determination to reclaim the dreams that had once united you.

the path eventually led you to a quiet park, where the hum of the city faded into the background. beneath a lone streetlamp, you paused. the cool night air mingled with the warmth of your connection, and taeha's eyes shone with a vulnerability that belied his hardened exterior.

without a word, he reached for your hand, pulling you close until the distance between you vanished. in that charged silence, you felt the unspoken truth between you—a truth too powerful to resist any longer. slowly, deliberately, your lips met in a kiss that was both tender and fierce, as if trying to rewrite the scars of the past with the promise of a new beginning.

when the kiss broke, taeha's forehead rested against yours. his eyes, glistening with unshed tears and fierce emotion, searched yours for reassurance. after a long, lingering moment, he spoke softly, "i don't know what i'd do without you."

in that fragile confession, every ounce of pain, anger, and longing melted away into something raw and beautiful—a reminder that even in the darkest moments, love could be the beacon guiding you both forward.

you held him tighter, your heart echoing his unspoken promise. "we'll face it all together," you murmured. "nothing can break us when we're side by side."

under the gentle glow of the streetlamp, with the city quietly stirring around you, you both found a moment of solace—a fleeting yet powerful testament to the strength of your bond and the hope of a future forged from shared resilience and unconditional love.

author's note: i'm obsessed with making this man soft and cuddly. again, the ending is not ending, xx. send me a request • my masterpost

[commodorez]

Do you have a favorite operating system from any time period? Going not only by functionality, but also visual appeal?

My favorite operating system is Windows 95.

Aesthetics, functional design, nostalgia, revolutionary UI. Sure, it does have some instability issues (especially in the RTM and A releases), but they got that more or less sorted. It's a solid OS, and it defined a whole new era of UI.

I think atleast 5 machines around here have Windows 95 installed on them right now. It ain't a perfect OS, but there's a reason it stuck around for so long in the zeitgeist even after it was no longer the latest and greatest.

It's a surprisingly capable OS even today, just don't go expecting it to handle the modern web. That said, you can get work done on it -- I regularly use one of my 95 computers to scan film negatives.

[shiftingfawnnn]

Understanding the 3D vs. 4D: The Shift Between Realities

Shifting is often described as the act of moving between realities, but the process is more complex than simply changing locations or environments. The distinction between 3D and 4D is not only significant in terms of the worlds themselves, but also in how we experience and perceive reality. Understanding this difference is crucial for anyone who is serious about shifting, as it unveils a deeper layer of reality that has the potential to change our understanding of existence itself.

The 3D World: Linear Time and Physical Constraints

To begin understanding the shift between 3D and 4D, it’s important to first grasp what the 3D world represents. The 3D realm is the reality most of us are familiar with, where we experience time, space, and matter in specific ways. Time in the 3D world is linear. It moves from past to present to future in a steady, measurable progression. Days, hours, and minutes dictate our lives, and every event follows a particular order. We are bound by the laws of physics that govern space—our physical movements are restricted to three dimensions (length, width, height), and our senses are designed to interact with the world in tangible, touchable ways.

In the 3D world, cause and effect are clearly defined. The events we experience follow a clear timeline—what happened yesterday can’t happen tomorrow, and what will happen in the future hasn’t occurred yet. This world operates on limitations, both physically and mentally, with space and time as constant forces shaping our experiences. Our bodies are subject to aging, our thoughts follow a rational progression, and our reality is defined by what we can see, hear, touch, and measure. Even the most abstract thoughts we have are contained within the structure of time and space.

This strict framework shapes how we live and understand the world. However, for those who wish to shift, this understanding of reality becomes a constraint. The 3D world, with its linearity and physical boundaries, is only a small piece of the larger, more expansive universe. To move beyond it, one must explore the possibility of stepping out of these limitations, to see beyond the veil of time and space.

Entering the 4D: A Higher-Dimensional Experience

When we shift to a 4D reality, we step into a world that is far more fluid, flexible, and expansive. The concept of the 4D world challenges everything we know about time and space. In this realm, time is no longer linear. Instead of being confined to a steady progression from past to future, time becomes malleable. It can bend, overlap, and occur simultaneously in multiple instances. Imagine being able to experience all moments at once—not just reliving the past or seeing the future, but understanding them as layers that exist together. This is what 4D time offers: the freedom to see time as an interconnected web, rather than a straight line.

The experience of space in the 4D realm is also radically different. While 3D space is fixed and measurable, 4D space allows for an expansion of what is possible. In the 4D world, the concepts of height, width, and depth can intertwine in complex ways. It’s not just about moving in three directions, but about perceiving multiple realities simultaneously. Imagine being able to see through objects, or being aware of a multitude of parallel universes at the same time. Movement in the 4D world is fluid and can happen across multiple dimensions at once, allowing for experiences that are not possible in our 3D understanding.

Perhaps the most profound aspect of the 4D world is the way beings in this realm interact with time and space. In 3D, we are restricted by physical boundaries, but in 4D, beings are able to transcend these boundaries. They might be able to experience events as they unfold across different moments in time, or even affect the timeline itself. A 4D being might be aware of their past and future in ways that 3D beings cannot comprehend, able to manipulate time to create change or prevent events from occurring.

Shifting Between Realities: A Bridge Between Worlds

So, how do we shift from the 3D world to the 4D? The transition between these realities is not as simple as stepping into another physical location—it’s about shifting the way we perceive and understand reality itself. To move from the linear, tangible experience of the 3D world into the expansive, fluid world of the 4D, we must first break free from the mental constraints that hold us in the 3D. This means shedding our reliance on linear time and physical limitations. Shifting into the 4D requires expanding consciousness beyond the familiar boundaries of space and time.

One way to approach this shift is by deepening our awareness of the non-linear aspects of existence. In the 3D world, we are trained to think in terms of time as a sequence, with one event leading to another. But in the 4D, time is not experienced in this rigid way. It is important to let go of our dependence on time as we know it and embrace the idea that past, present, and future can coexist, interweaving to create a reality that is far richer and more dynamic.

The key to shifting into a 4D reality is trust and letting go. Trust in the fluidity of existence. Trust in your ability to transcend the 3D constraints. As you begin to shift your perception, you may start to notice subtle changes in the way you experience time and space. These changes might feel disorienting at first, but with practice, they become more natural. Shifting into a 4D reality means stepping into a new way of being—one where time is an expansive force, and space is a fluid, interconnected experience.

The Implications of 4D Shifting

The deeper implications of shifting into the 4D realm are profound. Moving beyond the limitations of 3D opens up possibilities that are difficult to fully comprehend. In the 4D world, time is no longer a prison but a canvas. The way we experience our lives, the world around us, and even our interactions with others can be altered in incredible ways. It’s not just about physical space and objects—shifting into the 4D realm can alter how we perceive ourselves, our identity, and our place in the universe.

By shifting to the 4D, we become more aware of the interconnectedness of all things. We begin to understand that every choice we make ripples through time, and every moment is part of a greater whole. It’s a humbling and empowering experience, one that transcends the linear, finite boundaries of our 3D world.

Conclusion: The Next Step in Our Evolution

In the end, the shift from 3D to 4D is not just a physical relocation—it’s a journey of consciousness. It’s about transcending the limitations of time, space, and perception to embrace a greater understanding of existence. The 4D world is where time and space become fluid, where realities intertwine, and where we begin to understand our place in the cosmos on a much deeper level.

For those who are ready to explore the higher dimensions, shifting between the 3D and 4D is a way to unlock the full potential of reality. It’s an invitation to leave behind the constraints of the physical world and explore the infinite possibilities that exist in the realms beyond. With each shift, we step closer to understanding the true nature of existence—and perhaps, even the nature of time and space itself.