#Cloud Migration Guide

[lucid-outsourcing-solutions]

Complete AWS Cloud Migration Strategy Guide: Step-By-Step Guide

Introduction

Migrating to the cloud is a complex process that requires careful planning, execution, and optimization. Amazon Web Services (AWS) provides a comprehensive suite of tools and services to facilitate cloud migration for businesses of all sizes. In this detailed technical guide, we’ll outline a step-by-step AWS cloud migration strategy, focusing on the key considerations, best practices, and tools to ensure a successful migration.

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[softweb-solutions]

Cloud migration guide: Your strategic path to AWS migration

Today’s business world is reverberating with the drumbeat of digital transformation. Organizations across industries sprint to keep pace with evolving customer demands, competition, and ever-shifting technological landscapes.

Adopting Amazon Web Services (AWS) has become a critical catalyst for success in this high-stakes race. IT infrastructure and applications in the cloud require a well-defined AWS cloud migration strategy, one that charts the path to maximizing the transformative power of this technology.

This blog serves as your compass, guiding you through the intricacies of AWS cloud migration and empowering you to start a successful course toward digital dominance.

Source: IBM

Cloud migration strategies and their importance

The decision to migrate to AWS is just the first step on your digital expedition. Choosing the right path is crucial, for it affects the pace, cost, and ultimately, the success of your cloud takeover.

But why migrate at all? Why abandon the familiar confines of your on-premises castle for the uncharted territory of the cloud? Consider these treasures that beckon from the cloud:

Agility: Adapt and scale your applications quickly, just like a cloud expert avoiding digital challenges.

Scalability: If you need more servers to manage high traffic, the cloud has plenty available, just a click away.

Cost-efficiency: Ditch the expensive upkeep of on-premises infrastructure. The cloud offers a pay-as-you-go model, like renting a cloud-powered dragon instead of buying your own stable.

Innovation: Embrace the latest cloud technologies and unlock new possibilities, like using a cloud-powered telescope to scan for future business opportunities.

With these riches within reach, who wouldn’t want to join the cloud migration craze? However, navigating the landscape of the seven Rs without understanding their strengths and limitations can lead to detours and missed opportunities. In the next section, we’ll delve deeper into each R, unpacking their individual characteristics and equipping you to chart the optimal course towards your cloud kingdom.

The seven R’s of cloud migration

The seven R’s represent distinct migration strategies with varying degrees of complexity, speed, and long-term impact on your application portfolio. Let’s explore each R in detail, highlighting its purpose, suitability, and potential limitations:

Source: AWS

1. Rehost (Lift and Shift): This rapid and cost-effective option involves directly migrating applications to the AWS cloud infrastructure without significant architectural changes. Think of it as simply relocating your servers to a cloud data center, leveraging its scalability and resilience. However, this approach may limit long-term agility and cloud-native optimization potential.

2. Relocate: If you seek specific AWS features or multi-cloud flexibility, relocating applications to a different cloud platform might be ideal. This approach requires careful planning and compatibility testing but opens doors to specialized services or cost optimization opportunities.

3. Replatform: When existing architecture impedes cloud optimization, replatforming applications allows you to fully utilize cloud-native principles. This approach involves significant reworking to unlock advanced scalability, elasticity, and resilience. However, it demands substantial resources, expertise, and planning.

4. Refactor: For applications where future-proof agility is crucial, refactoring involves building them completely from scratch, embracing serverless technologies and microservices architecture. This most comprehensive approach unlocks future potential but requires intensive resources and planning.

5. Repurchase: Instead of extensive replatforming, you can repurchase outdated applications for cost-effective cloud-native equivalents offering similar functionality. This approach streamlines maintenance, provides modern features, and leverages the inherent advantages of cloud architecture.

6. Retire: This AWS cloud migration strategy targets outdated, underutilized, or incompatible applications. Retiring these applications liberates resources and simplifies your IT infrastructure, while reducing maintenance costs and potential security vulnerabilities.

7. Retain: For stable and compliant applications, retaining them on-premises ensures operational continuity and minimizes disruption. This approach avoids unnecessary migration efforts and allows you to focus cloud resources on strategic priorities.

By understanding the strengths and limitations of each R, you can confidently choose the most appropriate migration strategy for each application in your portfolio. Remember, a hybrid approach is often optimal, tailoring specific R’s to different applications for successful cloud adoption.

Insights

Explore the best strategies to migrate to the AWS cloud

AWS migration refers to the process of moving an organization's IT infrastructure, applications and data to the cloud-based services offered by Amazon Web Services (AWS).

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When to use each migration model

Migration strategy: Retire

Use Case: Outdated, underutilized, or incompatible applications

Benefits:

Simplifies infrastructure

Reduces maintenance costs

Mitigates security vulnerabilities

Implementation: Analyze workload dependencies and plan sunsetting process

Migration strategy: Retain

Use Case: Stable and compliant applications needing operational continuity

Benefits:

Minimizes disruption

Avoids unnecessary migration effort

Focuses resources on strategic priorities

Implementation: Assess compliance requirements and optimize on-premises environment

Migration strategy: Rehost (Lift & Shift)

Use Case: Rapid and cost-effective migration with minimal architectural changes

Benefits:

Leverages cloud scalability

Resilience

Reduces data center complexity

Implementation: Refine infrastructure sizing and optimize resource utilization

Migration strategy: Relocate

Use Case: Specific cloud feature requirements or multi-cloud flexibility

Benefits:

Accesses specialized services

Optimizes costs across platforms

Enhances future flexibility

Implementation: Evaluate target platform compatibility and plan data migration strategy

Migration strategy: Repurchase

Use Case: Cost-effective cloud-native alternatives for outdated applications

Benefits:

Streamlines maintenance provides modern features

Unlocks cloud-native advantages

Implementation: Identify suitable SaaS or PaaS offerings and plan application integration

Migration strategy: Replatform

Use Case: Significant performance and agility gains, but with greater reworking

Benefits:

Unlocks advanced scalability

Resilience

Future-proofs architecture

Implementation: Invest in development resources and plan application modernization roadmap

Migration strategy: Refactor

Use Case: Complete rebuild for future-proof agility and cloud-native optimization

Benefits:

Enables microservices architecture

Unlocks serverless technologies

Maximizes cloud potential

Implementation: Secure dedicated resources and prioritize development expertise

AWS migration benefits

Beyond simply transitioning your infrastructure, migrating to AWS delivers tangible benefits that empower your business to thrive in the digital landscape. These advantages stem from several key areas:

1. Unmatched agility: Adapt and respond to market shifts with lightning speed. AWS enables rapid scaling up and down of resources, effortless deployment of new applications, and real-time adjustments to meet shifting demands. This agility allows you to capitalize on fleeting opportunities and outmaneuver competitors.

2. Infinite scalability: Break free from the constraints of on-premises limitations. AWS offers boundless scalability, seamlessly accommodating spikes in activity, resource-intensive projects, and future growth. Need more servers? They’re available with a click. Require advanced analytics capabilities? Specialized services readily await. Your ambitions are no longer confined to infrastructure.

3. Optimized cost management: Ditch the burden of upfront investments and unpredictable expenses. AWS embraces a pay-as-you-go model, where you only pay for the resources you consume. This granular control enables precise cost optimization, eliminating wasted capacity and over-provisioning. Invest intelligently in cloud resources that directly drive business value.

4. Innovation as a constant: Embrace the cutting edge and propel your digital transformation. AWS constantly introduces groundbreaking services and features, opening doors to previously unimaginable possibilities. From artificial intelligence and machine learning to serverless computing and data analytics, the cloud fuels disruptive ideas and propels you ahead of the curve.

5. Global reach and resilience: Extend your digital borders and connect with customers like never before. AWS boasts a global network of data centers, ensuring exceptional performance and unparalleled redundancy regardless of your users’ location. This global reach strengthens your brand, unlocks new markets, and bolsters your disaster recovery capabilities.

6. Unwavering security and compliance: Prioritize data security and safeguard your reputation. AWS prioritizes multi-layered security controls and adheres to the highest compliance standards. Sensitive data is protected with rigorous measures, building trust with customers and minimizing risk.

Conquering cloud migration challenges

With the seven Rs as your compass, it’s time to chart your course through the inevitable challenges that arise on any AWS migration journey. By anticipating these roadblocks and proactively addressing them, you can ensure a smoother and more successful transition to the cloud. Here are some key obstacles to keep in mind:

1. Complexity and skill gap: Navigating the vast and ever-evolving AWS ecosystem can be daunting, especially for organizations with limited cloud experience. This complexity, coupled with a potential skill gap in your team, can lead to inefficient resource utilization, suboptimal architecture choices, and delayed timelines.

Strategize: Address this challenge by investing in training and certifications for your IT staff, partnering with experienced AWS consultants, and leveraging readily available online resources and documentation. Prioritize understanding core AWS services and best practices to make informed decisions throughout your migration.

2. Security considerations: Migrating sensitive data and applications to the cloud requires meticulous attention to security protocols and compliance regulations. Failure to secure your assets can lead to data breaches, reputational damage, and hefty fines.

Fortify: Implement robust access controls, data encryption, and threat detection mechanisms. Choose security-focused AWS services and adhere to industry best practices. Partnering with AWS security experts can significantly mitigate risks and ensure compliance.

3. Vendor lock-in: While leveraging the full range of AWS services can offer significant benefits, over-reliance on proprietary solutions can create an unhealthy dependence on a single vendor. This can limit your future flexibility and potentially increase costs.

Diversify: Maintain a balance between utilizing valuable AWS services and keeping some workloads on-premises or considering multi-cloud strategies. This approach enhances flexibility and bargaining power in the long run.

4. Cost management: While AWS offers flexible pricing models and optimization tools, managing cloud costs effectively requires ongoing monitoring and proactive adjustments. Uncontrolled spending can quickly eat into your budget and undermine the cost-effectiveness of your migration.

Optimize: Implement strategies like reserved instances, cost tagging, and resource auto-scaling to control expenses. Regularly review your cloud bills and identify areas for optimization. Remember, continuous cost management is the key to maximizing the financial benefits of the cloud.

Beyond migration: Embracing the digital horizon with Softweb Solutions

By embracing this roadmap, you’ll propel your business forward with agility, efficiency, and innovation. The cloud isn’t just a destination; it’s a powerful platform for growth and transformation. Don’t let questions cloud your judgment. Let Softweb Solutions be your guide to sail you through.

Originally published at https://www.softwebsolutions.com on February 14, 2024.

[bdccglobal]

Lift-and-Shift Cloud Migration Made Simple! Explore our essential guide for seamless migration strategies.

[alltheirdamn]

Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader

Part III

Summary: When it rains, it pours. You want to hate Joel so badly, but it’s so hard when he keeps fighting for what he wants. Rating: 18+ MDNI Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, heavy banter and arguing, brat taming, explicit language, mild violence, kissing (!!!), outdoor sex, fingering, orgasm denial, rough unprotected piv sex, squirting, choking, slapping, creampie, aftercare, a fuck ton of angst, a dash of fluff A/N: if you came for the smut, part 1&2 are always there for your enjoyment...but if you stayed for the angst and the ending they deserved, then this is for you. i'll never shy away from angst and the opportunity to deepen a story past pnp, so if you don't like it pls don't fucking bite it. anyway, a HUGE thank you to @lotusbxtch for helping me work this final part out, you are my partner in crime. and thank you @mermaidgirl30 for always screaming about these two with me <3 xoxo everyone, enjoy Part I & Part II

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Storm clouds brewed above you, their grey formation migrating together until the darkness blanketed the sky. The incoming rainstorm made the cattle restless in the fields, and you were fighting through the whipping wind, trying to wrangle them back into the barn. Usually, you’d let them wander through the fields during calmer storms, but the churning clouds made you nervous for what was to come. 

Mac hesitated beneath you as thunder cracked through the air, the sound rippling through the rolling fields. He bucked against your grip on the reins, timidly backing away from the path you were guiding him on. The cattle were too spread out to control by yourself, but you could handle it. You weren’t raised to back down from a challenge, and that’s all this was—a challenge. The only issue was that there was little room for error before the storm reached its full potential. 

“C’mon, Mac. Y’gotta work with me,” you said, frustrated. 

You steered him toward the right side of the field, using him as a lead for the cattle to follow. It was useless; they only ran in the opposite direction and further away from you. You cursed at the sky, gripping your saddle horn as you leaned into Mac’s neck. The storm would come crashing down soon, and you’d be chasing the cows through the downpour alone. 

“Y’want some help?” Called out a voice in the distance. 

The deep timber of Joel’s voice frightened the herd, making them sprint through the tall grass in every direction. Fuck. You steered Mac around, facing Joel in the direction of him as he barreled toward you on his horse. He had one hand holding the reins, the other holding down his cowboy hat against the wind rushing over his body. 

“Fuckin’ dammit, Joel!” You screamed. “I had it under control!”

You didn’t, but he didn’t need to know that. 

His horse came into a slow trot beside you and Mac, and you whipped your head to the side to glare at him. Under the shadows of the storm clouds, his brown eyes glinted brightly, absorbing every ounce of light left above you in the sky. God, you hated him. You hated his stupid eyes, his smug smirk, and his broad body sitting atop his horse. 

“Lemme help you,” he offered. “Y’can’t get them all wrangled alone. Y’need another horse helpin’ move them.”

“No, I fuckin’ don’t! I can handle it, Joel!”

“Darlin’, I know y’can handle most everythin’, but this storm is gettin’ too crazy to be out here alone. Lemme just help herd them together, then y’can take it from there.”

“Jesus Christ, why can’t y’just leave me alone?” You yelled, exasperated. 

You glanced back at the cows, now several yards away and deeper into the fields than you wanted. Shit, this wasn’t good. Kicking your heels against Mac’s sides, you sent him into a full sprint through the open fields, distancing yourself from Joel and propelling yourself deeper into your endless expanse of land. It didn’t matter if you got caught in the midst of the storm; you just wanted to prove your point. You could do this. You didn’t need help. You didn’t want help. 

Joel called out your name, the sound of his horse galloping behind you growing louder. You pushed yourself harder, forcing Mac to run faster. Lightning struck down into the field miles away, the blinding light causing Mac to rear upwards. You tried to steady yourself in the saddle, swinging the reins to the side to guide him back onto all fours. He only fought against your hold, jerking his head back and forth as he huffed out a loud whine. 

“Mac, calm down!” You begged. 

A hand came beside you, gripping the reins and tugging them firmly to the left. Joel steered Mac beside his horse, taking control and limiting your ability to calm Mac down. You tried yanking the reins from Joel’s large hands, but he only tightened his grip. 

“This isn’t the time to be stubborn,” he barked. “You’re gonna get caught in the storm.”

“I have responsibilities!” You seethed. “I need these damn cows in the barn ‘fore it starts gettin’ bad. I can’t just leave them out here!”

“They’ll be just fine! It’s one storm,” he argued. 

You grasped at the reins, tearing them from his hands. Another ripple of thunder shook the air around you, and you took it as a sign that time was running out. You needed to work against the storm before it was too late. Leaning into Mac, you pushed him into a long gallop toward the herd. You managed to gain the lead around them, zig-zagging Mac until they grouped together. Joel watched from a distance, his horse standing restless in the blowing wind. You were doing this without him, proving you didn’t need help. 

The cows grunted as you urged them into a faster pace, the view of the worn-down barn drifting closer. You were acutely aware of Joel trailing behind you but couldn’t find the energy to care. Let him follow. You’d rip him to shreds when the cattle were safe. Mac continued his waltz back and forth, obeying your commands as you guided him in a rhythm behind the cows. You tuned out the sound of thunder rumbling above you and kept your breathing even as you pushed through the wind tearing at your face. 

“Alright, let’s get y’all inside,” you said, coaxing the cattle through the open barn doors.

They rustled through the hay-covered ground, veering off in different directions. Some went straight for the water basins, while others huddled in dark corners behind the wooden beams creaking above you. You kicked your legs over Mac, sliding to your feet and giving him an appreciative pat against his neck. Softly kissing his jaw, you smoothed down his mane and waded through the cows to check them over. The sounds of hoofs pounding into the barn startled you—and the cows—and you clenched your fists together before turning toward Joel. 

“I told you to leave me alone.”

Dismounting his horse, Joel waltzed his way into the barn, thunder clouds casting dark shadows over his large frame as he walked closer. Under the brim of his cowboy hat, you could see his smug grin and glittering eyes, just watching as you shook with anger.

“All I was tryna do is help,” he explained. “No need to get feisty with me.”

You stepped closer, rage boiling inside your veins. You hated him. You hated the help he offered because he thought you couldn’t do this alone. He thought you were weak—incapable. Well, you weren’t. You were more than capable of handling anything out on your land. That’s what you were raised to do.

“I don’t want your fuckin’ help, Joel. And I don’t want you ‘round here.”

“Why?” He pressed. 

You were toe-to-toe with him, staring up at eyes that looked at you with anything but anger. Where was that menacing look he usually wore? Where was his dominance? Why wasn’t he fighting with you? 

“You piss me off!” you yelled. “You come ‘round here ruinin’ my fuckin’ day. You don’t take no for an answer. You don’t let me live.”

“Darlin’, bein’ alone ain’t livin’ at all. Why don’t y’want someone ‘round? Why don’t you want me ‘round?”

His body crowded you, his hands roaming up your arms, squeezing your tense shoulders as you disappeared under his shadow. You shook him off, breezing past him and into the open space outside the barn. You didn’t want to give him the answer; you couldn’t explain it without being vulnerable. And Joel was the very last person you wanted to be vulnerable with. 

“Hey!” Joel hollered. “Would y’come back inside? It ain’t safe out there right now.”

As if to prove his point, lightning struck the fields just a mile away, the instant clap of thunder rattling through the air. Drops of rain began to pelt the dirt around you, misting your hair and face as you glanced up into the sky. You worked at shutting the fences together, ensuring everything was tied down and secure before the storm hit full force. 

Two strong arms braced themselves around your middle, pulling you away from the barn until your boots dragged through the mud. Your house was only feet away, and you knew that’s exactly where Joel intended to take you. Maybe he’d fuck you through the anger like he always did, but not even that sounded appealing right now. You wanted to be alone. 

“Let me fuckin’ go!” You screamed, thrashing against his firm grip. 

“No. I’m sick of this fuckin’ attitude y’always got. Ain’t gonna listen to it anymore.”

You drove an elbow into his stomach, forcing his arms to slip from your torso as he doubled over with a soft oof. You staggered away from him, staring him down through the pelting rain. 

“I want to be alone!” You raged. 

“Why do y’want to be alone so bad? Y’don't have to be alone, you know,” Joel argued. 

He had a hand pressed into his side, no doubt to quell the pain from your jab, and a grimace twisting up his lips. You were soaked from the rain now, your hair matting down onto your forehead and cheeks as you stared at him. Humidity thickened the air around you, leaving you suffocating in your skin. 

“I can take care of myself,” you defended. “I—.”

“I know y’can take care of yourself,” Joel interjected. “You’ve made that perfectly fuckin’ clear! All I’m sayin’ is, what if you didn’t have to?”

“And do what?” You laughed bitterly. “Have you take care of me? In your fuckin’ dreams, Miller.”

Joel dragged a wet hand over his face, his eyelashes weighed down by the heavy droplets. You folded your arms over your chest, your shirt soaked and no doubt see-through. It didn’t matter; too many emotions flooded your mind to even care about your appearance. 

“Y’drive me fuckin’ crazy, y’know that?” Joel cursed. “Always gotta be so fuckin’ stubborn and pissy. I can’t stand it.”

“Then why do y’keep comin’ ‘round?!” You tossed your arms up in defeat, huffing out a cloud of air through the torrents of rain.

“Because!” He shouted.

“Because why?”

“Christ, y’just don’t fuckin’ get it.”

Joel tore his hat off his head, rushing toward you. His strong hands gripped the sides of your face, his nose brushing over yours. With a deep inhale, he crashed his lips against yours, the taste of rainwater and smoke falling onto your tongue. Everything inside your body tensed up, too afraid to cave into his embrace. But Joel held you closer, tangling one hand into your damp hair, coaxing your mouth open wider. His tongue rolled over yours, and a moan slipped from your mouth and into his. He swallowed every tiny noise you made, drinking in your vulnerability as it coated his lips. Every slant of his mouth over yours was a step closer to your undoing; he would ruin you completely if he kept kissing you. 

“Stop,” you mumbled against his lips.

Joel pressed harder against you, his nose smashing into your cheek as he deepened the kiss. He was consuming you from the inside out, sucking out every emotion and bleeding you dry. You sank your teeth into his bottom lip, pulling it hard until he broke away with labored breathing. He brushed a finger over his mouth, finding blood seeping along the surface of his bottom lip. 

“This how y’wanna act?” He questioned, his eyes a swimming pool of onyx. 

There it was. 

Your chest rose and fell as you tried to slow your breathing, watching Joel flex his fingers at his sides. You had torn yourself from his grip and left him empty-handed; if you did it first, then you wouldn’t have to face the pain of losing him. Christ, the realization hit you like a freight train. 

You hated him… you had to hate him. 

You wouldn’t let yourself feel anything else.

“Go home, Joel! I don’t want you!”

“Sure fuckin’ felt like y’did,” he huffed.

Then he was on you, wrangling you down into the mud until you were pinned beneath him. Sloshing against the wet earth, you clawed at his flannel, tearing your nails through the soaked fabric. Joel clamped a hand around your wrist, pinning it above your head as he lowered his face close to yours. Your other hand came up to his face, smearing thick mud over his scruff-covered jaw. Every time he leaned closer, you pushed his face away, distancing yourself from the addiction that beckoned; lips saturated in the rain, soft and inviting…a sweet promise of something you could never have. You wanted him to ruin you like he always did; you needed the pain. You needed the reminder that this was nothing but physical that kept you colliding together. 

“Stop. Fightin’. Me.” He panted.

“No!”

You continued swatting at his face, mud caking into his mustache and over the bridge of his nose. Joel pried your hand from his face, pulling it above your head and clasping your wrists together under one large palm.

“Enough!” He barked. 

 He shredded your wet shirt apart with his free hand, the saturated pieces fraying into the muddy ground. With a snarl off his lips, Joel bent down and ravished your body with open-mouthed kisses, his teeth marring your neck and chest. You arched into his touch, hissing at the pain of each bite into your flesh. 

“Fuck,” you groaned.

This. This is what you wanted. You wouldn’t fight this because this was what you wanted. Right? You mewled as he marked your body, leaving bruised patches of skin in his wake. Pleasure began to pulsate between your legs, a constant ache that only grew stronger the longer you lay beneath him. You needed him inside you—assaulting you with quick thrusts until your brain turned off. 

Joel worked at peeling your pants from your legs, huffing out a frustrated breath as he fought with the denim plastered to your skin by the rain. Maybe you'd laugh at his struggles if you weren’t blinded by so much rage. But you were beyond desperate for release—release from the pleasure boiling under your skin and release from this constant painful ache inside your chest. With your pants and underwear lazily tossed into the puddle of water beside you, Joel smoothed his hands over your curves, his fingers pinching and twisting your pebbled nipples. Every inch of your body was drenched with rain, the droplets pelting your face as you tried to bite back another moan. His fingers roamed down your stomach, slipping easily between your legs and through your silken folds. 

“Please,” you whined. 

It was the first time you willingly begged for anything from Joel. You bit your lips to hold back any more desperate pleas. 

“Look at you, darlin’,” Joel teased. “Finally learned some damn manners.”

“Fuck you,” you snapped. 

You chased his fingers, lifting your hips as he brushed the pad of his thumb over your clit. Everything was so sensitive and heightened that you could hardly blame the rain for your eyes blurring as he drew slow circles over the aching bud. Joel coaxed small noises from your mouth as you writhed against the wet earth. 

“You gonna be good for me, darlin?” Joel asked, his voice lost behind another rumble of thunder.

“Just make me cum,” you bit out. 

“Y’think I’m just gonna give you whatever y’want right now? After the way y’treated me? Nah, I don’t think so.”

His lips twitched into a smug grin, his fingers teasing their way into your slick entrance. Joel paralyzed you with a heavy stare, and you turned your head away, staring off across the field to avoid his eyes. The longer you looked at him, the harder this would be.

He curled two fingers inside you, dragging them over the spongy spot that had your insides rupturing with ecstasy. Every stroke of his fingers was another tug on that pleasure unfurling within your core. Squeezing your eyes shut, you focused on the rhythm of his movements, the quickness of his fingers, the thickness as they stretched you wide.

“Gotta look at me if y’wanna cum,” Joel said, plunging his fingers deeper.

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes tighter. You couldn’t look at him, not right now. 

“Look at me!” Joel demanded.

A sharp sting bolted across your face, sending your eyes flying open. Joel’s eyes were darker than the thunderstorm hanging above your bodies, emotions swirling deep within his irises. You saw it all—the anger, the pain, the need. This is why you didn’t want to look at him; it reflected everything you felt, too. His fingers pinched your chin, holding your face firm within his grip. You had nowhere to go. You were trapped—trapped beneath him, trapped inside yourself. 

Joel worked his fingers harder and faster, pulling cries from your lips until your orgasm skyrocketed through your body. 

“Fuck, Joel!” You cried. 

His jaw twitched as he watched you unravel beneath him. Your core fluttered with phantom ripples of your orgasm, your body unwinding from its tension. You had enough of this—you didn’t want to be under his control. Not when his eyes softened and his body pressed closer to yours. 

“Get off me,” you begged. “Fuck—get off!”

Joel tore his fingers from you, drawing them into his mouth as he cleaned your arousal from his skin. There wasn’t a single ounce of rage radiating off his body, which only angered you more. For how much fight you were putting up against him, he wasn’t giving in like he usually did. 

Frustrated with everything, you shimmied your body far enough upward to twist your hips and swing a leg over his waist. Joel relinquished and allowed you to wrangle him to the ground; your hands splayed over his chest, his shirt soaked beneath your fingers. Joel gazed up at you with hungry eyes while he worked at undoing his belt buckle. Rain pelted his face, washing away the mud as it streaked through his graying curls. Christ, he looked so beautiful beneath you; you would kiss him if you weren’t so fucking scared. But you didn’t want that—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. Above him, you could hurt him however you wanted; you could torment him until he snapped. 

“This what y’want, darlin’?” Joel asked, breathless. “Y’wanna use me? Go ahead.”

You didn’t want to use him; you wanted him angry enough to snap back into his commanding nature. You wanted him to break you apart. You wanted his handprints seared into your skin and his filthy words in your ear. But he kept staring at you with eyes that could fracture your heart into a million pieces. There wasn’t a hint of darkness in his eyes anymore, all of it replaced by that deep-rooted need you couldn’t stand to look at. 

Joel’s cock throbbed in your hand as you lined it up with your entrance, the velvety skin damp from the rain, sliding into your sex without resistance. You lowered yourself until his length filled you completely, the stretch rendering you speechless. Slowly, you began to grind against him, letting your body move fluidly until you buzzed with newfound pleasure. It coursed through your veins, igniting that fire low in your stomach you so hungered for. 

You rolled your hips faster, leaning into him to thread your hands through his matted curls, your nails digging into his scalp. Joel wouldn’t move with you—he lay there with his hands gripping your waist, letting you take the lead.

“Keep usin’ me, darlin’,” Joel whispered. “I can take it.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You hoped your nails clawing in his skin would elicit a response…anything. You sped up the tempo, raising yourself along the length of his cock and pushing yourself down. 

“I hate you,” you panted, throwing all your weight into each drop of your hips. “I hate you so fuckin’ much.”

“I know y’do,” Joel said softly.

You dragged your nails down his hair and over the graying patches of hair along his jaw. Dirt collected under your nails as tiny red welts rose to the surface of his skin. Joel wasn’t phased by any of it, not even a grimace of pain when you squeezed your hands around his throat. 

“Hate me back!” You begged.

“No.” 

You choked him harder, throttling him as your sex clenched around his cock. You couldn’t even focus on the pleasure curling inside your stomach, your anger suffocating every sensation in your body. 

“Goddamnit, Joel! Hate me!” 

His tan skin flushed underneath your hands, and your rage took hold of your body as you sent your hand flying across his cheek. Nothing. Not a single reaction from your anger. Joel should have had you on the brink of death at this point after all your yelling and fighting. That’s what he did best—he hurt you until the pain became pleasure, and your control slipped out of reach. But he wasn’t feeding into your pleas. He wasn’t even considering it. That stupid brow furrow softened, his eyes looking at you with a mixture of emotions, none of which you wanted. 

“Fuckin’ hate me!” You screamed. “How much more can I keep hurtin’ you ‘til you hate me back?”

Joel lifted himself up despite your efforts to hold him down. Everything felt electrified with your bodies pressed together, sticky wet skin against wet clothes. Your body pulsed with pleasure…with anger…with everything you wanted to escape. His hands wrapped around your back, guiding you along his cock as you kept your hands squeezing around his throat. 

“But I don’t hate you.” He was soft-spoken as if to coax you out of your aggressive haze.

You dropped your head onto his shoulder, sinking your teeth into his skin as you rocked against his body. Faster and faster, your hips moved, driving his cock deeper inside you; all the while he remained paralyzed against you. Small flexes of his fingers against your skin were all you could feel, and his breathy moans in your ear were enough to drive you mad. Your teeth were bearing down into his shoulder with enough force to draw blood, yet he didn’t move a muscle. 

Releasing your grip, you jerked away from the warmth of his body with a snarl twisting up your lips. Why wasn’t he taking control? You deserved the torture—the complete domination of his body against yours. Why was this time different? Why wouldn’t he give you what you wanted?

“Why won’t you hate me?!” You wailed. “Why won’t you fuck me like y’always do?”

Joel silently watched as you pounded your fists into his muscles over and over again. You could keep hitting him, keep yelling, keep pleading…but what was the use? He wasn’t giving in, and you were growing tired. You were so fucking tired of fighting.

“Is this not enough?” You cried, your voice cracking. “Am I not enough?”

“Oh, darlin’,” Joel sighed.

His breath was hot against your ear, his lips dangerously close to your skin as you continued crying. His cock throbbed inside you, yet your pleasure dissipated. You didn’t want this anymore. You were broken. 

“Why am I not enough?” You whimpered.

Your hands stopped their beating, and you let the emotions you had kept at a distance crash against the surface. Sobs wracked through your body as your head fell into the crook of his neck. Joel’s hands brushed up your back, caressing and holding you close. He buried his face into your hair, one hand tangling in the soaked tendrils, holding you flush to his chest.

“I got you, darlin’. S’alright,” he crooned. 

Your tears bled into his shirt, untraceable within the wet fabric that clung to his strong shoulders. Your body shook with each wave of cries, and Joel just kept holding you, kept shushing you until your sobs turned into whimpers, and you had nothing left. 

You were so scared to lose everything—your land, your generational responsibilities… Joel. Everyone in your life had vanished. All you had left was hundreds of acres of empty land and a hollow chest with a half-broken heart. You could take the pain he gave you because that’s what you deserved. You didn’t deserve this tenderness, not after the way you treated him. Anger and hate were enough for you; it was enough to pacify the ache of wanting more. You weren’t worth more than this. 

“Please, Joel,” you muttered. “Please hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” Joel whispered. “I can’t. Y’got yourself under my skin, and I don’t want it any other way.”

“No…don’t do that,” you mumbled. “Don’t say things like that to me.”

“C’mere, lemme look at you.”

Joel pushed your shoulders forward, peeling you away from his chest. You hid your eyes from him, lowering your head and away from his longing stare. 

“Darlin’, look at me,” he coaxed, his fingers brushing under your chin and lifting your face. 

The rain was falling slower now, large droplets smattering against your cheeks and forehead. You tried to avoid his eyes, watching the rain roll down his nose and over his pouty lips. For once, the thought of kissing him didn’t scare you. 

Joel squeezed his fingers around your jaw, softer than you were used to but still effective in getting your attention. Through the tears still blurring your eyes, you gazed into his brown eyes, the softness crashing into yours. With his brows slightly pulled up in concern, Joel exhaled, finally seeing all the broken pieces he held in his arms. 

“You are enough,” he vowed. “Attitude and all, you are enough. If y’wanna hate me, then hate me. Hate me all y’want ’cause I can handle it. Just please don’t hate yourself. I see how scared you are, darlin’. Ain’t got nothin’ to be scared ‘bout with me, ‘kay?”

You nodded solemnly, letting your forehead fall against his. Joel smoothed his hands down your back, slowly guiding your hips up until his cock slipped from you. Your core clenched around nothing, the ripples of your denied orgasm rolling through your body. Fucking out your anger was one thing, but you couldn’t fuck away your feelings. Not anymore. 

“C’mon, darlin’,” Joel urged. 

He lifted you to your feet, following suit and rising from the slippery ground. Bending slightly, Joel curled an arm around your back and the other under your knees, tossing you up and cradling you against his chest. You let your head rest on his shoulder, watching the mud dry on his tan skin. With bleary eyes and a heavy heart, you felt guilty for making him care for you. You were supposed to be good on your own; you were supposed to be independent. You didn’t need taking care of, yet here you were, limp in Joel’s arms and exhausted.

He waded through the muddy puddles around the barn and carried you toward your house. Water dripped down the patchy roof, rattling against the storm drain as it rolled down the side of the walls. The smell of the thunderstorm wafted over Joel’s body, invading your senses with each heavy inhale. He walked up the porch steps cautiously, kicking the door open with the toe of his boot. It didn’t bother you when it smashed against the wall, the wood rattling at the force. 

Still keeping you close to his chest, Joel walked through your tiny farm home, familiarizing himself with the layout until he found the door to your bathroom. Propping it open with his knee, Joel guided you inside, gingerly lowering you to your feet. 

“Let’s get you in the shower, darlin’,” Joel urged. “Needa get y’warmed up.”

“I’m okay,” you croaked, wrapping your arms around your bare chest. 

Joel huffed a quiet laugh, bending his head down to kiss your dirty forehead. 

“Stubborn lil’ thing. C’mon, I’ll join you.”

You glanced around the bathroom, staring at the yellow wallpaper peeling around the crown molding. Time—and weather—had done its damage to your home, but no one ever visited, so you never thought about fixing it. But now Joel was standing there, truly seeing your house and not just focusing on you pinned to the couch, and you were awfully insecure. Every paint-chipped crevice along the wooden walls, every creak in the floorboard, every water stain along the corners of doorways… was just another reminder of how bad you were at existing. Focusing on the land and keeping the animals cared for was easy, but it was hard to care for yourself. You didn’t matter; you never had. 

“Hey.” Joel’s voice was soft in your ear.

You looked back at Joel hesitantly, watching his clothes drop to the floor. Piece by piece, Joel slowly materialized into a reality you hadn’t imagined. Without his cowboy boots or worn flannel, Joel was soft everywhere. His dark chest hair curled around his torso and down his navel, his stomach soft and moldable. His tapered waist looked much better out of his jeans, and his thick thighs were worth spending hours kissing. All his rough edges and calloused skin morphed into something so much more tender and inviting—something you yearned for in unspeakable ways. 

“Do I need to carry you into the shower?” He asked, half teasing.

You didn’t have the energy to laugh, so you only stood silent, waiting for him to run the water until the steam fogged the mirror. Once it ran hot enough, Joel pulled back the curtain and dragged you under the spray of the water. Mud slipped off your skin, swirling down your body in dark rivulets and into the drain. 

Joel’s body pressed against yours, his arms snaking around your waist. You felt his warm lips press into the skin of your neck, trailing further down as you leaned into his touch. The longer you spent in his embrace, the more pliant you became—malleable. 

“Can I help wash you, darlin’?” Joel muttered into your neck.

You wanted to decline to prove you didn’t need help, but Joel was just as stubborn as you. He’d persist, and you were terribly close to hitting your limit on how many times you could tell him no. So, you gave him the tiniest nod and let him steer you under the water. He reached around you to grab the shampoo, pumping enough into his hands to massage over your scalp. The drag of his fingers through your tangled hair was enough to loosen the tension in your muscles. Your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling of his hands on your body the only sensation you could focus on. 

Joel remained silent, moving soapy hands over your body until there wasn’t a speck of dirt left. Eventually, your body hit its limit, and you sagged into his chest, your eyes tired and heavy. He reached over and turned the water off, the immediate chill in the empty air sending shivers down your spine. 

“Stay here,” Joel muttered. “Lemme grab a towel.”

“Y’don’t even know where they are,” you grumbled. 

Joel chuckled, slipping a hand down your chest to hug you closer. His scruff tickled your neck as he nestled into your body, swaying you softly against him. 

“Then show me,” he whispered. “Get me used to this house.”

Tears stung your waterline at hearing his words; he wanted to be here with you. Not just in this moment. He was thinking about the future, and you couldn’t understand why you were worth more than this. 

“They’re up in the cabinet outside the bathroom,” you offered. “Just don’t slip on the tiles, old man.”

“There’s my girl,” he laughed. 

You hid behind the shower curtain, watching Joel’s ass leave the bathroom as he roamed into the hallway. He was only gone a moment, returning with two towels in hand. You couldn’t help but stare at how water clung to his chest hair, curling the brown hair in swirls as they trailed down his stomach. His cock hung low between his thighs, half hard and thick. You still didn’t get your last orgasm, and maybe that was something you could rectify later. Later. 

“Sure starin’ a lot for someone who hates me,” Joel quipped, holding a towel. 

“Shut up, Miller. I can do whatever I want.”

“Don’t I fuckin’ know it,” he smirked. 

You stepped out of the tub, turning around so he could wrap the towel over your shoulders. His arms wound around your body, rubbing the fabric into your skin and drying you off. You twisted the towel over your chest and returned to watching Joel in all his glory. He used his towel to dry his hair, the salt and pepper curls sticking to his forehead. You liked Joel like this—soft and natural. As much as you enjoyed the fire in his eyes and the aggression in his actions, this was something so enticing. Slinging the towel around his waist, Joel beckoned you closer and hauled you into his arms. 

“Wanna get in bed with me?” He asked. 

“Now you’re askin’ permission for things? That’s new,” you scoffed, peering up at him with an eyebrow raised. 

“Alright, have it your way,” he huffed.

Bending down, Joel tossed you over his shoulder, making you squeal as his hands planted themselves on your ass. He waltzed out of the bathroom, hauling you down the hall until he found your bedroom. The overcast sky shadowed your room through the windows, and you were so ready to curl up under the covers and hide away. 

Tossing you onto the comforter, Joel climbed over you, caging you between his arms. You shied away from him as he leaned closer, his face dangerously close to yours. You were unsure if you were ready to kiss him again, though your body thrummed with the aching need to feel his lips against yours. He roamed a hand over your chest, his fingers dancing up the column of your neck as they squeezed softly around your throat. Instinctively, you arched into his touch, relishing the slight dominance back in his movements.

“Y’gonna fight me if I kiss you?” He teased, bending down closer.

“Maybe,” you whispered.

Joel’s lips twitched into a grin as he pressed his body into yours, his mouth a breath away from yours. With a flex of his fingers around your neck, he closed the gap, his lips colliding with yours. It wasn’t frenzied like the first time; his mouth was warm and soft against yours. He moved slowly, letting you adjust to every slant of his mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth as an invitation, allowing him to steer this kiss in whatever direction. 

Roaming your hands up the expanse of his muscular arms, you dug your nails into his shoulders, dragging him closer until you were flush with his body. He broke away from your lips, trailing his mouth down the hollow of your neck, sucking marks into your skin. 

“Joel,” you whined.

“Hmm?” He muttered.

“I need—.”

Your begging was cut off short as he pulled down your towel, his mouth suctioning around your pebbled nipple. Your fingers tangled in his wet hair, pulling slightly to guide him off your body. He bit the sensitive bud, rolling your nipple between his teeth. He was relentless, and you found yourself caving into his desires the longer he spent ravishing your body.

“I know y’can be demandin’, darlin’,” Joel said, releasing your nipple from between his teeth. “So, let’s fuckin’ hear it.”

“Fuck me, Joel,” you begged. “Fuck me, and don’t be gentle.”

“Y’like it when I’m rough with you? Y’want me to fuck you into the mattress?” He questioned.

“Christ,” you exhaled. “Please.”

Joel wasted no time tossing his towel across the room and lifting your legs high into the air. You didn’t care that he had you pinned beneath him; you wanted to see his eyes wild with lust while he fucked himself into you. Shuffling his knees up, he maneuvered both of your legs over one shoulder, his hands sliding under your ass and lifting your hips. He slowly eased himself into you, and you let a moan slip from your lips as his cock brushed against your cervix. Yes. This is what you needed.

“S’fuckin’ pretty when you’re stuffed with my cock,” Joel grunted, rocking his hips against yours.

“Mhmm,” you whined. 

You couldn’t formulate a coherent sentence when you were struggling to breathe. You were so fucking full of him, and the angle he had you molded into only shoved his cock further inside you. Joel rutted against you slowly, but each drive of his hips hit hard against yours. You reached for his hand that gripped your calf and pulled it down until it wrapped around your neck.

“Greedy lil’ thing,” he smirked.

Joel flexed his fingers around your throat before fully gripping it, stifling your breathing until your vision darkened. He snapped his hips harder, speeding up his thrusts until your bed frame smacked into the wall. Arousal dripped down the seam of your ass, coating Joel’s cock as it slipped in and out of you. Coils of pleasure twisted inside your stomach, and you let out strangled whimpers as you tried to swallow around his fingers.

“Y’enjoy bein’ fucked like a lil’ slut?”

“Y—yes,” you choked.

“Louder for me. Wanna hear ya’.”

But his grip tightened, cutting off your words as they lodged in your throat. Tears slid down your cheeks as you chased the burning pleasure coursing through your body. The orgasm you lost earlier was surging back to the surface, and you clawed at the feeling as it wracked against your core. Joel could sense it, too, his pace ruthless as he assaulted you with powerful thrusts.

“S’my girl need to cum?”

My girl.

The sentiment alone could have skyrocketed your orgasm to the surface. Joel’s eyes gleamed with pride as he looked down at you, satisfied at your reaction as your lips tipped up into a timid smile. The sound of being his girl didn’t sound so bad…but you’d think about that later. You needed this. 

“Please,” you begged. 

“You gonna be my good girl, darlin’? Gonna make me proud right now?”

Joel unwound his hand from your throat, threading his fingers into your hair. He bent down, forcing you further into the mattress as he captured your lips in a hungry kiss. He leaned in closer, your body nearly folded in half against his, your thighs pressed into his sweat-slick chest as your calves still rested over his shoulder. Every inch of you was covered in him: his musky scent, his smoke-tinged breath, his deep grunts lost inside your mouth. It blanketed over your fears, and you lost yourself in him. He was consuming you from the inside out, and you couldn’t help yourself when you deepened the kiss. 

“C’mon,” Joel urged, his words lost against your mouth. “Make me proud.”

Your orgasm erupted through your body, stare sparkling behind your eyelids as you seized up. Your core fluttered around Joel’s cock, milking him through each ripple of your orgasm as it passed through. 

“That’s my girl,” Joel praised. “Fuckin’ drenchin’ my cock.”

In a blur, Joel had you flipped onto your stomach, his cock vanishing from you for only a moment before he was yanking your hips up high and driving back into you. 

“Fuck!” You cried out, your fingers clawing at the comforter.

“Ain’t stoppin’ yet, darlin’. You’re gonna give me one more.”

You weren’t sure if you had anything left to give, but with Joel ramming into you from behind, you had no choice but to relinquish all control. Slick arousal ran down your thigh as Joel plunged deeper, his cock spearing into you and tearing you apart. 

“Please don’t stop,” you panted. “So close, Joel…I’m so close.”

“I know. I know,” he crooned. “Doin’ so good for me.”

Joel’s fingers dug into your hip bones, anchoring you into the bed. His touch was bruising—brutal. Your head dropped between your shoulders, your tears falling onto the sheets. Euphoria thrummed in your veins, ready to explode at any given moment. The loud echo of Joel’s hips slamming against yours battled against the storm still brewing outside; each thrust its own sound of thunder erupting inside your tiny bedroom. 

Pleasure fractured through you, your skin lit on fire as your orgasm lapped up your spine. You seized around Joel’s cock, arousal gushing from you and coating his length as he slipped in and out of your sex. Joel grunted in satisfaction, pinning your hips to his as he let your orgasm flutter through your body. 

“Fuck yes,” he groaned. “Makin’ such a mess of me, darlin’. Filthy lil’ thing just squirtin’ all over my cock. Y’want my cum deep inside you now? Want me to fill you up, darlin’?”

You nodded vigorously; your mouth opened in a silent plea despite Joel towering over you from behind. He couldn’t see the way you mouthed please, but he felt the desperation in your body as you pressed your hips back against his. Joel took you hard, barreling deeper inside you with each thrust until you felt him shudder with a breathy moan. Your name slipped off his lips as he buried himself to the hilt, his release filling you to the brim. It dripped out the sides, mixing with your arousal as it rolled down your thighs. Christ, you were so fucking full of him in every single way. 

Joel slumped over your body, his mouth warm against your spine as he left small kisses on your skin. You sunk into the bed, your legs giving out beneath you and leaving you exhausted and listless. Time passed slowly, and Joel finally slipped from you and tumbled onto the bed beside you. He quickly pulled you into an embrace, tucking your head under his arm and against his chest. Though your body was still unwinding from the way he fucked you, you felt yourself tensing back up. To feel this close to someone felt foreign and unsure; every fiber of your being fought against this, yet you were too tired to overcome it mentally. Joel’s fingers curled into your waist, digging softly into your skin as if to beckon you closer.

“You doin’ okay, darlin’?” He asked, his voice hoarse and tired.

You buried your head into his chest, refusing to look at him. How could you voice your fears when everything inside his eyes scared you the most? You could run from your feelings, but you could never outrun the softness of his brown eyes.

“I don’t know how to do this, Joel,” you mumbled into his chest.

“Do what?”

“Be with someone,” you confessed. “I don’t know how to be anythin’ other than alone.”

He nudged you softly, trying to coax your eyes to meet his. There was no point in hiding; at this point, you’d lose any battle against him. Lifting your head, you caught a glimpse at his eyes, their soft brown color shaded by clouded a deep sense of concern. 

“Let me show y’what it’s like,” he offered. “Let me care for you the way you deserve.”

“I’m just scared,” you whispered.

“What’re y’scared of?”

Joel raised a brow, the furrow above his nose deepening. He was silently trying to understand your hesitancy, which you appreciated, but it didn’t feel right to be this vulnerable with him. The moment you spilled your heart to him, you’d never have it back. Your walls would be broken down, and you’d have nowhere to run and hide. Sucking in a breath, you allowed the words to tumble out of you. 

“I’m scared that if I let myself fall for you, I’ll lose you like I lost everyone else.”

“Darlin’,” Joel sighed. 

He tilted your chin up, placing a gentle kiss against your trembling lips. 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere. You showed me how strong y’can be. Now it’s my turn to be strong for you, ‘kay? Can I do that?”

“You aren’t supposed to be like this,” you said, shaking your head.

“How am I supposed to be?” He questioned.

“You shouldn’t be this nice to me. I don’t deserve this after everythin’ I’ve done. I deserve all the mean shit y’been doin’ to me.”

“Why can’t I do both?” He chuckled lightly, squeezing your side. “I can still be mean as long as I get to love you, too.”

You propped your head onto his chest, watching him for any fault in his words. You truly didn’t understand how he could feel all these things for you when you’d been nothing but awful. You pushed him away constantly; you got on his nerves. Why did he want you?

“You love me?” You asked, tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, maybe I do. Got me wrapped ‘round your bratty lil’ finger, darlin’.”

Joel leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. His lips traveled down your damp cheeks until he captured your mouth once again. You slid your hands up his chest, your fingers tugging at the curls at the base of his neck. He pulled you in closer and maneuvered your body over his, your chests pressed together and hearts beating in the same rhythm. 

“This doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop givin’ you hell, Joel,” you smiled, breaking away from his lips. 

“Oh, I’m countin’ on it, darlin’,” he chuckled.

Outside, the storm continued barreling through the fields, the quiet sound of rain tapping against the windows. Joel kept you tangled around his body, his warmth never leaving you as time drifted away. The fear still lingered in the back of your mind, but it wasn’t as powerful anymore. You had your land, you had your responsibilities, and you had your man. 

You could have it all. 

You did have it all.

[ismiletechnologies]

Project Management Guide For Cloud Migration

We are here to simplify your migration to cloud by embarking on a systematic, planned, stage-wise journey to the cloud. We undertake cloud migration from scratch with configurations setup, creating the roadmap for migration and post migration performance monitoring and maintenance. Along with that we manage vendors, licensing, compliance and policies etc.

Learn more about :

The cloud Migration Checklist

The activities involved in each of these stages

The stages of cloud migration project management

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[lovebugism]

can I request [ MISTLETOE ] for sender and receiver to find themselves under the mistletoe. with steeb and shy!reader?! maybe they’ve both been crushing for a while and so it’s all fluffy??

ty for requesting :D happy xmas angel!! — you and steve have your very first kiss under the mistletoe (shy!fem!r, new relationship, fluff, 1.1k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

You’re pretty sure your friends are debating which Christmas song is better. You can’t be sure, though, because it all just sounds like static. Everything feels a little like static, too.  

You’re sitting on Steve’s couch, but it’s more like sitting on a cloud. He’s right next to you — arm lazy around your shoulders, fitting into your side like a puzzle piece — but you can’t really feel him, either.

Steve can tell how far away you’ve gone. You haven’t said a word to him in ages. He can’t be totally sure you’ve even blinked, either. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand, one that you barely feel, to bring you back again.

You turn to him, sluggish and slow and softly smiling.

“Still good?” he wonders. His grin is barely there and slightly lopsided. His honey eyes sparkle with a subtle concern. He doesn’t know how to be anything but entirely tender with you.

You nod, though your eyes are still a little glassy.

Steve’s smile widens. His golden features drip with a fondness you don’t feel very deserving of.

He’s so close, you think he might kiss you. You can smell the hot chocolate and candy canes on his breath — a lethal concoction that makes you melt further into him. And truth be told, he wants to kiss you, but he’s terrified of being too forward.

You’re made of something delicate. Like flower petals or winter sunlight. He doesn’t want to be too rough with you.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks.

Your chin jerks back a bit. The subtle meaning behind his words makes you flinch. “…What?”

His face falls in a gaping horror. “Wait— No— that’s not— That’s not what I meant,” he stammers quickly, an awkward laugh sputtering from his lips. “I was trying to ask if you wanted to get a drink before Eddie breaks out his metal version of Rudolph the Rednose Reindeer.”

His dumb joke makes you laugh. He’s grateful for it.

He walks with you towards the kitchen, guiding you with a warm hand on the small of your back. Robin gives him a not-so-subtle thumbs up when he passes her. “Real smooth,” she mouths. 

He flips her off but feels a little bad about it a second later. The mistletoe hanging in front of the sink was definitely her doing — and probably his only opportunity to kiss you tonight. He’ll thank her for it later, if everything goes to plan.

You stand across the room at the fridge, pouring him a glass of eggnog like the sweet thing you are. He doesn’t know how to get you over to him without being too obvious. So he just lingers in place, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, and hopes you’ll eventually migrate towards him.

“Here you go, babe,” you murmur under your breath, not even looking his way as you sit the full glass to the side. 

Steve wonders if you noticed the nickname spilling from your mouth, or if it just came out without you realizing it. It makes his chest all warm and fuzzy either way. He wants to kiss you stupid about it, but he has to get you over here first.

“Uh, can you hand it to me, please?”

You look over your shoulder at him, expecting to find him busy in some way. He isn’t, though. He’s just kinda standing there. Like he’s waiting for something.

You’re confused, but you don’t press it. You go to hand it to him without complaint. Sweet thing, indeed.

You take a few steps towards him and reach out your arm, not quite under the half-hidden mistletoe yet. Steve grimaces slightly. “Little closer?” he pleads.

With furrowed brows, you take another step closer.

“Just a little bit more—”

Your golden laugh fills the kitchen. “What are you doing? Just take it, weirdo.”

Steve beams when you’re finally beneath it. His gasp is almost cartoonish, but it makes his eyes sparkle anyway. “Ah! Look at that! We’re under the mistletoe!”

Your eyes flit to the ceiling. The artificial plant is mostly hidden, strung up between hanging pots and pans. A smile tugs at your mouth — you wonder if he planned this or if the chance just fell into his lap.

You’re grateful for it, either way.

“What a coincidence, huh?” you murmur sheepishly, stomach so full of fluttering butterflies that it aches.

“Yeah. Not planned at all,” he beams, totally honest, as he takes a small step closer.

“Not even a little bit,” you tease.

His hands settle on your waist, warm with how clammy they’ve gone. His thumbs rub gently along your ribcage, over your reindeer-patterned Christmas sweater. His chest presses intently against yours, and you wonder if he can feel your racing heartbeat.

“Totally unintentional, actually. I think the universe willed it.”

“Totally.”

“Well,” Steve lilts with a quirked mouth and twinkling eyes. “Do you wanna?”

He won’t do anything you don’t want to do. He’d never force you to do a damn thing, but fuck, if he doesn’t want you to say yes more than he’s ever wanted anything in the whole world.

His heart nearly bursts out of his chest when you nod at him with your own quiet smile. 

When he leans in to kiss you, it feels like something out of a movie. There’s a swelling choir in the distance and snow falling all around you. It’s in black and white or technicolor, something so obviously old Hollywood, because only the golden age of film could capture these once-in-a-lifetime romantics.

And it’s weird, ‘cause it’s just one little peck.

His chiseled nose bumps once against the side of your own, scruffy chin scratching at your skin. His lips lock momentarily with yours with all their plush pink glory. It’s heaven — for a flash of a second — and gone way too soon.

Both of you are grinning like lovesick idiots when he pulls away.

His freshly kissed mouth opens to say something — to tell you that he’s head over heels for you or that you taste like hot cocoa, maybe — but nothing like that comes out.

Something metallic cracks in the distance, like a valuable thing broken, and all the loud voices in the living room suddenly go quiet.

“Little shits…” Steve mumbles in an annoyed sigh. His blatant irritation makes you laugh. The sound makes him smile all over again. “I should go make sure no one broke a limb or something.”

“That’s probably a good idea.”

His hands squeeze gently at your sides before he goes, grieved to leave you.

He barely gets five steps away before you’re calling him back again. 

“Wait! You forgot your drink.” 

When he walks back towards you again — nicely settled beneath the hanging mistletoe he’d already forgotten about — you sneak another kiss in. It’s quicker than you’d like, but more languid still. 

It takes his breath away all over again.

[skagheart]

Dear Nobody’s Daughter, to Live Through This, you scrape off your Celebrity Skin; you know full well that you’re Pretty On The Inside...

HOW TO GET INTO HOLE?

• Angel Dust guides: I.

Aimed at @elexnorislingtxn and whomever wants to get into Hole...

HOLE is an American nineties’s kinderwhore band with a turbulent line-up and pure chaotic gold for music yet overshadowed by the controversial image of the lead singer and frontwoman of the band, Courtney Love. A staple in the grunge scene, the critically acclaimed sophomore record Live Through This of 1994 marked a peak in Hole’s career although the band was gaining audience for their 1991 debut: Pretty On The Inside. Celebrity Skin, the 1998 album, proved Hole’s peak which was rightly concluded by 2010’s Nobody’s Daughter thus finishing the legacy of Hole.

...In my very humble opinion, Courtney Love is a cunt. And, I love her music.

DO TRY Hole if you are into: Jack Off Jill, Bratmobile, Nirvana, Babes In Toyland, L7, Veruca Salt, Mommy Long Legs, Bikini Kill, Lunachicks, et cetera. Or, if you’d like to try something dolly and chaotic with an edge of feminism and aggression. I promise, listening to Hole makes you feel like a doll.

DO NOT TRY Hole if you’re a filthy misogynist who can’t stand the fact that the wife of a popular artist does in fact make good music on her own.

Yes, Courtney Love is a cunt, but she makes good music. Seperate the artist from the art.

If you’re still present here, welcome! Now, moving onto the actual guide...

FIRSTLY, I think to decode this, we’d have to learn about the albums individually. Of course, I’m going to leave my recommendation for listening, but to best suit yourself, you can find your own way around with the descriptions I give for each of these albums...

“ PRETTY ON THE INSIDE ”

Slut-kiss girl... PRETTY ON THE INSIDE of 1991 is about beauty, which is the life as a sex-worker about Courtney Love’s time as a sex-worker. It includes Courtney Love on vocals and rhythm guitar, Eric Erlandson on lead guitar, Jill Emery on bass, Caroline Rue on drums, produced by Kim Gordon of Sonic Youth and Don Fleming of Gumball.

tracklist. TEENAGE WHORE, BABYDOLL, GARBADGE MAN, SASSY, GOOD SISTER—BAD SISTER, MRS. JONES, BERRY, LOADED, STARBELLY, PRETTY ON THE INSIDE, CLOUDS.

IF YOU WANT... angry, chaotic, messy and sloppily mixed music that is very heady and makes you feel like a doll, listen to this album first.

Blending elements of punk rock, the album features distorted and alternating guitar compositions, screaming vocals from Love, and “sloppy punk ethics”, a style which the band would later distance themselves from, opting for a less abrasive sound on subsequent releases. Love’s lyrics on the album are often presented in an abstract narrative form, and describe disparate scenes of graphic violence, death, and female sexuality. The record was dedicated to Rob Ritter of the Los Angeles punk rock acts the Bags and The Gun Club. [< source, wikipedia.

If you want a more refined yet more depressed version of this album, migrate to Live Through This after; if you want a more refined and self-assured, slightly sarcastic but honest record after this listen, go to Celebrity Skin.

FUN FACT: the song BABYDOLL is allegedly inspired by Madonna.

“ LIVE THROUGH THIS ”

Miss Worlds... LIVE THROUGH THIS of 1994 is about the changes that come with marriage and motherhood, themes mainly being motherhood, body image, depression, child abuse and elitism. It includes Courtney Love on vocals and rhythm guitar, Eric Erlandson on lead guitar, Kristen Pfaff on bass, Patty Schemel on drums, produced by Paul Q. Kolderie and Sean Slade.

tracklist. VIOLET, MISS WORLD, PLUMP, ASKING FOR IT, JENNIFER’S BODY, DOLL PARTS, CREDIT IN A STRAIGHT WORLD, SOFTER, SOFTEST, SHE WALKS ON ME, I THINK THAT I WOULD DIE, GUTLESS, ROCK STAR.

IF YOU WANT... a tragic and softly edgy listen with a harsh sensibility and pure womanly depression scrawled all over, listen to this album first.

Live Through This marked a departure from the band’s noise rock roots toward a more alternative rock format. Love had sought a more mellow sound for Live Through This. The resulting music was starkly less aggressive than the band's former work, blending more structured melodies and smoother arrangements with heavy guitar riffs. Consequently, this featured a mixture of songwriting techniques, including use of power chords as well as arpeggios, and occasional use of keyboards. [< source, wikipedia.

If you want a tougher, rawer, more journal-entry music than this, migrate to Pretty On The Inside; if you want a more refined and self-assured, slightly sarcastic but honest record after this listen, go to Celebrity Skin.

FUN FACT: Courtney Love’s late husband Kurt Cobain does backing vocals on ASKING FOR IT.

“ CELEBRITY SKIN ”

Petals... CELEBRITY SKIN of 1998 is about the lost people, the more opulent Los Angeles and Californian culture, about the promises and agonies of Southern California; it was aimed to divulge greatly from the grunge sound of before. It includes Courtney Love on vocals and rhythm guitar, Eric Erlandson on lead guitar, Melissa Auf der Maur on bass, Patty Schemel on drums, produced by Michael Beinhorn.

tracklist. CELEBRITY SKIN, AWFUL, HIT SO HARD, MALIBU, REASONS TO BE BEAUTIFUL, DYING, USE ONCE & DESTROY, NORTHERN STAR, BOYS ON THE RADIO, HEAVEN TONIGHT, PLAYING YOUR SONGS, PETALS.

IF YOU WANT... a rock-fueled pop sound with many lyrics that are references and have layered meanings, a comforting almost listen, listen to this album first.

The band sought to use Los Angeles and the state of California as a unifying theme and began writing what they conceived as a “California album” in 1997. Unlike Hole's previous releases, the final songs on Celebrity Skin featured instrumental contributions from several musicians outside the band, primarily Billy Corgan, who co-wrote the musical arrangements on five songs. Auf der Maur's former bandmate Jordon Zadorozny, as well as Go-Go's guitarist Charlotte Caffey, also contributed to the composition of one track. Frontwoman Courtney Love, who wrote all of the lyrics, named the album and its title track after a poem she had written that was influenced by T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land. Motifs of water and drowning are also prominent throughout the album, as well as recurring themes of angels, Heaven and stars. [< source, wikipedia.

If you want a tougher, rawer, more journal-entry music than this, migrate to Pretty On The Inside; if you want a grungier yet more depressed version of this album, migrate to Live Through This after.

FUN FACT: Love clarified that she had derived the album name from a short-lived band in Los Angeles named Celebrity Skin, as well as a bootleg pornographic magazine featuring nude candid photos of celebrities.

“ NOBODY’S DAUGHTER ”

Dirty Girls... NOBODY’S DAUGHTER of 2010 is about the time of rehabilitation that Courtney Love went through after a long cocaine addiction and legal troubles following that, written in rehabilitation; about feeling lost, confused. It was supposed to be a solo album of Love’s, but was made to be Hole’s last album after their 2002 dissolution. It includes Courtney Love on vocals and rhythm guitar, Micko Larkin on lead guitar, Shawn Dailey on bass, Stu Fisher on drums, produced by Michael Beinhorn, Micko Larkin, and Linda Perry.

tracklist. NOBODY’S DAUGHTER, SKINNY LITTLE BITCH, HONEY, PACIFIC COAST HIGHWAY, SAMANTHA, SOMEONE ELSE’S BED, FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, LETTER TO GOD, LOSER DUST, HOW DIRTY GIRLS GET CLEAN, NEVER GO HUNGRY.

I DO NOT RECOMMEND LISTENING TO THIS ALBUM VERY FIRSTLY, but, IF YOU WANT... a polished and the most mainstream-sounding of the four albums, sad, confused, lost record written during rehabilitation, this is your key.

Before the album’s release, former Hole guitarist Eric Erlandson publicly disputed Love’s use of the Hole name, claiming it violated a previous agreement between the two, which Love contested. On its release, Nobody’s Daughter received generally mixed reviews from music critics, with some praising its instrumentation and lyrics, while others criticized it for its folk rock elements as well as production issues and Love’s vocals. Despite this, Love said in 2010 that she considered it the best record she had made. [< source, wikipedia.

If you want a tougher, rawer, more journal-entry music than this, migrate to Pretty On The Inside; if you want a grungier yet more depressed version of this album, migrate to Live Through This after; if you want a similar but more scattered listen, to Celebrity Skin.

FUN FACT: The painting on the cover is of Marie Antoinette and the tracklist page has the edited background of a painting of Anne Boleyn.

MY RECOMMENDED PATHWAYS...

Lastly...

HOLE is a kinderwhore band, which is minutely distinct from riot grrrl. And, Courtney Love has a lot of beef with, to be honest, mostly everyone. So, yeah... For example, Babes In Toyland, a band often mentioned in the same vein as Hole, has their frontwoman, Kat Bjelland, in hatred with Love. I do not recommend looking up to these people as people, but please do try their music.

Die, cry, adore Hole.

FUN FACT: My favourite Hole album is Pretty On The Inside!

Dear Nobody’s Daughter, to Live Through This, you scrape off your Celebrity Skin; you know full well that you’re Pretty On The Inside...

DID YOU GET INTO HOLE?

[tobylix-blog]

Digital nomads - Legolas x Reader

Content & Warnings: Modern AU, drabble Word count: 0.8k Summary: You and Legolas travel the world together staying in different countries for a few weeks or months before moving on, posting traveling content and some awesome archery trick shots.

A/n: definetely brought to you with the help of 'Migration Feathers' by General Elektriks

Your blog reaches 100k subscribers when you upload the final part of the series about your trip to Cambodia – the first one out of Europe that you take with Legolas. He is so emotional about the milestone, that even your joy seems to be but a faint reflection. His genuine delight brings back the memories of your first journey together. He was smiling just as brightly when you brought him to the best places you knew in the Netherlands and filmed his honest reaction to seeing deers in De Hoge Veluwe.

______________________________________________________________

As the hiking trail takes you two to Himakånå, the view from the cliff just isn't as breathtaking as the man before you. Standing high above the lake with wind catching in his hair he seems to be some ethereal spirit of the place. Eyes as blue as the water below. Faint shade of pink dusting his face after a long climb uphill. Life paints him so vividly, that you only take a few pictures, mostly staring shamelessly.

The following week you come back with a costume and a bow, accompanied by a mutual friend, Gimli. Despite the initial grumpiness and some rough jokes he takes great interest in showing you around the best sceneries in Tysvær and cheers for the best shots like a whole supporting team.

In the completed outfit Legolas seems like an elven prince rather than a son of some big shot in law. There's a translucent fog catching on the grass under his feet, making him appear all the more mystical and dreamlike. He doesn't say it out loud, but you notice from the look in his eyes that he feels relieved not being bound to the past in one more way. As much of an escapism as it is, you respect that.

Videos and photos from the hike take up a solid half of your SD card memory and two good days of editing before they hit your blog. Once they do though – the chaos ensues. Numbers on posts double within a day, while the portraits of your boyfriend begin their grand parade around the internet. You almost feel jealous. Legolas smirks proudly, but blushes so deeply, that you can't help a smirk as well.

______________________________________________________________

When Legolas walks onto the meter-thick ice of the lake, you finally know what to compare his eye color with. Between the bottomless sky and frozen water, seemingly the only person for miles around, except for you and the guide, he looks like a deity walking through the clouds of crispy snow. He turns back at you with those magnificent azure orbs framed with frosted lashes, and a blissful wave of warmth washes over you instantly in spite of the biting cold air. Legolas has that incredible ability to share his amazement, which attracted you to him in the first place.

He strides over the smooth icy surface confidently, like he was born in one of the villages on the eastern shore, crosses the major crack in one long jump over the exposed waters of Baikal and looks up to the crystal sky, all but dedicating poems to it. The bow in his hand only adding to the romantic image. The local guide, walking beside you, watches him with a smirk and says. «If Abai Geser had come from the West, that would be him.»

______________________________________________________________

When you get from one neat bar to another, tasting cocktails – sweet, bitter and even spicy on your tongues – and mixing the flavors even more through dozens of kisses, getting rowdy on the way until dropping at some karaoke, your blog hits half a million. Legolas starts a live stream right there in the cramped little room somewhere in Seoul mere minutes before sunrise.

He talks enthusiastically to the gathering viewers, while you half-hidden behind his back get the first row seat to the show. He is flushed from the alcohol and so carefree, easily falling into the quick speech pace chattering about your Asian trip and further plans. Such a striking contrast to the uptight college boy he was when you first crossed paths.

The thought of the past two years brings a smile to your lips, curling the edges slightly. Legolas somehow takes notice even through the small image on the phone screen and turns to you, only to be greeted with a passionate kiss and fingers readily finding their way to his ruffled hair. «I love you. More than anything or anyone. You're my home and my freedom,» you whisper heatedly to his ear.

Your eyes dart to the still working front camera of his phone, narrowing slightly before you turn the thing off completely. To hell that live stream, the viewers and whoever else. Let them think and overthink your actions as long as they wish. You two are now together and that means you are free from any boundaries and expectations.

[lucid-outsourcing-solutions]

Cloud Migration Best Practices : A Comprehensive Guide

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

Miraculous ladybug season 5 episodes (released so far) guide:

For my lovely friends who cannot recall which episode is which (sidenote, if you havent seen season 5 please remember that a very brief memory-jogging summary is not gonna give you full context and please just watch the show if you wanna know what’s going on)

Evolution: time portals, gabi chooses violence against teenagers over saving his loved ones, alix is put into witness protection

Multiplication: Alliance is announced, Adrien quits his job, no one can find Félix

Destruction: Gabi attempts to doxx Ladybug but is foiled by the power of scavenger hunts. Then he cataclysms himself

Jubilation: gabi uses spyware to doxx ladybug real? psyche! It’s just marinette’s old friend in a costume! Also Ladynoir gets married and has four kids and then gets divorced and never speaks of it again

Illusion: “i’ll make you pancakes any day, son.” Gabi is so divorced and in a custody battle. Nino creates the Resistance and akumatizes Gabi on purpose for intel

Determination: adrientte goes back to the wax museum with luka and kagami as wingmen. Marinette fails the date successfully by finally deciding that chat noir is so hot

Passion: Natalie gives Adrien romance advice and gets akumatized on purpose to fight her ex-husband. Ladynoir kwami swap happens.

Reunion: old-fashioned stuffy ladybug calls chat noir a silly little clown boytoy but ladybug will not be stopped from loving him even more

Elation: glaciator 3.0

Transmission: crying sobbing in bed, love confession, rejection, the kwamis decide the depression has gone too far

Deflagration: kittybella, gay rights, five seconds of ladrien, that adrinette hand-raising thing, my entire life

Perfection: “i love moo,” dolphin love song, kagami turns into a cloud for a minute

Migration: luka goes into witness protection

Derision: marinette traumatic backstory reveal. Adrien tries to maim a man

Intuition: gabi is dying. This is his own fault. They are in outer space

Protection: adrinette cute picnic date, look how polyamorous-coded they can make kagami

Adoration: power of lesbians so strong it convinces marinette to say i love you to her boyfriend

Emotion: diamond dance, argos reveal, red moon, laying on the floor bathed in moonlight and wailing rights

Pretension: kagami is slightly kidnapped but then takes over her own kidnapping and gets to trauma dump. Marinette insults Gabi’s pancakes

Revelation: someone Finally gets doxxed! It is Gabi. Lila becomes a conspiracy influencer and a class rep

Confrontation: lila tries to ruin everyone’s lives by messing with their class schedules. marinette is 12,000 steps ahead of her. Lila’s wig is snatched

Collusion: evil police robots are a thing. Bustier is a confirmed lesbian who craves the proletariat uprising. Ladynoir says guillotine the elites. chloe is mayor. Superheroes are illegal.

That’s all that’s been released as of today (may 28, 2023)! Please dont mention leaks on this, this is just a reference for keeping track of released episodes, okay thanks!

[emilybeemartin]

Inktober Days 10-12

Day 10: "Fortune"

On the farthest-flung spit of the Florida Keys are a handful of islands bearing the second-oldest surviving European name in the US, recorded by Ponce de León for the abundance of sea turtles and the lack of fresh water (Florida’s name is considered the oldest). Shallow straits create a ship trap that has claimed hundreds of vessels from the age of sail, including loaded Spanish treasure galleons. Old lighthouses stand as memories to the effort to guide ships through lucrative but risky channels. Rising from Garden Key is a hexagonal fortress—Fort Jefferson, the largest all-brick fort in the US, which housed Union prisoners during the Civil War. Under the turquoise water are some of the most intact coral reefs in the continental US. The water teems with sea life, and in addition to several year-round seabird species, the islands serve as stopovers for migrating birds. It’s a treasure trove lousy with natural and historical abundance. A vast fortune of biodiversity and human history.

This message is not brought to you by Visit Dry Tortugas LLC—it’s brought to you by a too-romantic ranger who’s a sucker for lonely maritime outposts and would desperately like to visit this unusual little member of the National Park Service.

Day 11: "Wander"

Some parks more than others seem to invite visitors to wander. It’s the twists of a path, dipping in and out of the rises in a landscape. It’s the light filtering through dark forests, promising something new beyond the branches. It’s the shoulders of a massive mountain standing like a beacon, or its invisible summit covered in clouds. Mount Rainier, like so many other protected places, seems to beckon—come. Explore. Take it in.

But stay on the path—alpine habitats are fragile.

Day 12: "Spicy"

Olympic was the first park I fell in love with, and it was a twenty-year long-distance relationship. A National Geographic article I read in high school painted a picture of verdant rainforests dripping with moss, wild windy coastlines, and high snowy peaks. I desperately wanted to see these places myself, stand under the towering cedars and breathe in their spicy scent. My desire to visit was so strong that the summers I worked in Glacier and Yellowstone, I would constantly plot the drive west, hoping the travel time would somehow get shorter. It was eleven hours. I could do that in a long weekend, couldn’t I? Take one of my precious few days off and just blitz to the coast?

The plans never worked out, which is probably for the best. Instead, after two years of Covid-cancelled plans, my husband and I decided to make the trip together from the east coast. It was infinitely better than a snatched day and a half all alone. For a week, we explored the glaciated mountains, rocky beaches, and primordial rainforests. After two-thirds of my life spent pining after this park, it was everything I’d dreamed it would be and more.

[getvalentined]

Content warnings on this post: Pregnancy and its associated biological weirdness, premature birth, seizures, fleeting mention of suicide, and my favorite character in the entire world getting shot. Discretion is advised.

So I've been trying to figure out a way to calculate roughly what point in Lucrecia's pregnancy her big seizure occurred, leading to Vincent confronting Hojo and getting shot. We know it was in 1977, and I've always assumed it was fairly late (because Sephiroth was probably born on Christmas, see link above for justification), but there's not actually much of anything in canon to confirm or refute this assumption.

Only, actually, it turns out that there is. It's so far off the path of things that are common knowledge that it's fallen off the edge of the continent, but it's there.

This is...very long, but please bear with me, because this is the best example of the timeline of this series being staggeringly internally consistent that I've ever seen.

Lucrecia's seizure was caused by Jenova, because it's super similar to the seizures Cloud has in Advent Children. This is weird, because while not stated in the games, there is a very specifically phrased blurb in the Crisis Core Complete Guide stating that Lucrecia was never personally exposed to Jenova cells while carrying Sephiroth:

[Description in alt text. Credit to jeange1231 and Shinra Archaeology on the bird app.]

Given that we don't have in-series canon that contradicts this, I have no issue with accepting it's canonicity. (This is what meta is for. Filling in gaps. Not contradicting the actual games.)

So the zygote/fetus that eventually became Sephiroth was treated in utero, with the assumption that it wouldn't spread to Lucrecia. I won't go into detail on the science here, but it makes sense that Gast and Co. made this assumption, given the existence of the placental barrier and the fact that Project S took place in the late 1970s, when we didn't understand these things as well as we do now. (We still do not understand them very well but that's neither here nor there.)

Cell migration between mother and child is a known phenomenon that isn't well understood, but occurs in a staggering number of pregnancies—it may occur in all pregnancies and simply not persist, but in humans it's been shown to persist for decades. (Basically everything I say about this is going to come from the paper linked above.) In humans it's known to occur no earlier than 10 weeks into a pregnancy. The paper doesn't seem to indicate the latest point it's known to occur in humans, which is interesting, but even if it only takes place for a very limited amount of time, that doesn't throw this off in the slightest.

According to the blurb above, Lucrecia canonically experienced cell migration, essentially being infected with Jenova by the unborn Sephiroth, but not in such a way that anyone caught it—or at least not until it was too late. If the cell migration itself was the event responsible for the seizure that pushed Vincent to confronting Hojo, that means that Sephiroth absolutely couldn't have been born in 1977, much less on Christmas. Vincent was shot no earlier than October 13th, and cell migration occurs around 10-12 weeks.

But the seizure didn't happen at 10-12 weeks. It couldn't have—Sephiroth's strain of Jenova is unique in that it responds to his will specifically. Without his will, it's not really active, which we see all throughout the Compilation. Cloud only wakes up at the end of Crisis Core around the time that Sephiroth starts calling for Reunion, and he's not cognizant until that call is loud enough to start drawing other Clones out of hiding; likewise, he appears to be in remission between Meteorfall and the events of Advent Children, at which point he starts having seizures of his own in response to Sephiroth gathering enough power to pull at his strings for the first time in years.

Fetal brain development kicks into high gear at the onset of the third trimester, roughly 28 weeks into a traditional 40 week pregnancy. (Interestingly, in mice, cell migration only seems to occur 2 weeks into a pregnancy, which is the equivalent of the onset of the third trimester because lab mice have a total gestational period of about 3 weeks.)

The third trimester is the point when Sephiroth began to have a will with which to pull at the unique strain of Jenova cells that had migrated from him to Lucrecia. With that in mind, we can say with a decent level of confidence that Lucrecia's seizure took place in the third trimester, around 26-28 weeks in.

And here's where it all comes together.

Assuming that Sephiroth was born on Christmas of 1977, at or close to full term (38-40 weeks), this would put his conception around the end of March. If he was conceived at the end of March, do you know when the third trimester starts?

The first or second week of October.

The earliest date that Vincent could have been shot is October 13th, 1977, because he was 27 years old at the time, and he was born in 1950. Hojo shot Vincent when he confronted him about Lucrecia's seizure.

I'd always had the headcanon that Sephiroth was premature, but taking actual human gestation into account—combined with the nature of Lucrecia's seizure and the confirmation that her strain of Jenova comes from Sephiroth specifically via cell migration—makes this line up so perfectly that I have to admit that this headcanon is directly refuted by actual canon. Sephiroth may have been a week or two early, but not enough to worry. He was a perfectly healthy baby, born at a perfectly acceptable term.

And he was born on Christmas, because he was conceived in late March, because Lucrecia's seizure happened around the onset of the third trimester, which occurred in early to mid-October, which is the earliest possible timeframe that Vincent could have been shot for confronting Hojo about it.

This is so internally consistent that the real world facts and features of human gestation line up without causing a single wave. I'm losing my fucking mind.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.

[racefortheironthrone]

Please innumerate for us the specialized problems of the library sciences.

Let me start with the caveat that my information is based on my experiences at the National Archives more than a decade ago, and policy has definitely changed on this front as we can see from this graph of recent digitization - apparently NARA wants to get to 85% digitization by 2026. (Even still, I'd note that the records of the WPA are <0.001% digitized.)

However, back when I was doing the research that would eventually become my first book, I remember being at the National Archives II building in College Park, Maryland (Go Terps!) and getting really frustrated that all the records of the WPA were only available in their original physical form and that all the guides and indexes were also in paper only and were all from the 1970s, and I asked the archivist why the hell the National Archives hadn't been digitized already.

This is what they told me: if it's handled correctly and stored in the right environmental circumstances, paper can last a thousand years. Carbon copies can last even longer, if they don't rip. (Seriously, the bastard things are like onion skins, they'll split if you look at them funny.) Microfilm is slightly more technologically advanced than paper, but it only lasts 500 years in the right conditions.

We've only had computers en masse since the 1980s, and already there's a huge amount of records (especially from the early years) that we don't have any more, because the hard drives got re-formatted due to higher costs of storage space back in the day, or because old computers got thrown out when they were replaced by newer models and the hard drives are all rotting in landfills somewhere, or because backwards compatibility broke down and we just can't read those file types on our modern computers, or because the actual data got corrupted on the disc, or because some legacy company is asserting copyright against a video game museum, or because some political hack and/or president of the United States decided to violate the Presidential Records Act.

While we thought that the internet would cause an explosion of written records from ordinary people on the scale of the advent of mass literacy, there are vast swathes of the early internet that simply do not exist any more because the servers got switched off when Geocities et al. folded in the dot-com bubble burst or when everyone migrated to Web 2.0, and the Internet Archive tries its best (bless its heart, affectionately) but it can't be everywhere and save everything.

As a result, the archivist told me, digitization is a fraught question: what file format do we use? How do we know that file format will still be compatible and backwards-compatible in 50 years? 100? Longer? Do we keep everything locally or store it on the cloud, and how do we ensure that the storage mechanisms won't fail if there's a blackout or a virus or whatever? Do we digitize everything now, or do we wait until optical character recognition improves enough to the point where digitized records can be searched for words and phrases? Etc.

Keep in mind, I am a public policy historian who studies the 20th century U.S - I work primarily with the official records and the central archives of the richest government in the world. From a library sciences perspectives, this is kind of an ideal scenario, and it's still kind of fucked up. (Let me tell you, the rage and grief I felt when I learned that most of the General File of the Public Works Administration was thrown away by the National fucking Archives and Records Administration in the mid-1950s because they were running out of shelf space in the D.C location and didn't think these records were important...)

Now imagine what it's like at a local historical society or a small liberal arts college, or the national museum of a developing nation for that matter, who do not have the resources for the kind of grand digitization project that NARA started doing five years ago. Think of the sheer scale of historical records that sleep, unseen and untouched perhaps for decades and perhaps for ever, in little cubbyholes all across the world. Among professionals, historical records are measured in linear and cubic feet - think about that for a second, how many pages of paper there are in a foot when you stack them up, and how many hundreds and thousands and millions of feet there are across the face of the world. Think of all the millions of feet of pieces of paper that have been lost to us because of fire or rot or war or time itself.

This is why Peter Turchin is a quack. Historical records are not a standardized little database for social scientists to plug their fucking spreadsheets into; historians don't play that kind of bullshit t-ball, with all our data neatly packaged and handed to us on a silver platter. Our profession is not a social science, it's a goddamn treasure hunt through boxes that were never catalogued or categorized (or that were re-catalogued so many times no one remembers how they were put together in the first place) to find writing that no one has read since the authors died. All of us know that our work, our understanding, will always be partial and limited, because memory is infinitely fragile and the very idea of historical preservation is a mad existential defiance of entropy itself. These records are real, they are fragile - to hell with the Library of Alexandria, remember the National Museum of Brazil? - and they are all that is left to us of the dead.

[willtheweaver]

A writer’s guide to forests: Telling the seasons

Nothing ever stays the same.That’s just the reality of living on a planet that is tilted at roughly 23.5 degrees from vertical (can be a bit more or less). The further one gets away from the equator, the more things change depending on where the Earth is in its rotation around the sun. The seasons and how they change the forest environment can greatly affect the story by influencing your characters, cultures and societies, presenting new opportunities and hardships as the year goes by.

Temperate to Boreal- Here the seasons are at their most obvious, with marked differences in weather, appearance, and even wildlife.

•Spring- This is when things are awakening from winter. The days grow longer and warmer, and living things awaken from their long slumber. This is when most plants flower and animals give birth. The weather is pleasant most of the time, but storms can arise, especially at the start of the season.

•Summer- The days are at their longest and warmest. Life is in full swing at this time. Summer days are generally considered gentle, but this is the time when clear days can turn dark and the air is full of rain, wind, and lightning-especially in areas where cyclones frequent. In short, this is when things are at their most active.

•Autumn- The time when things begin to wind down. The days grow short, the air begins to chill, and the once green leaves change color and fall to the forest floor. For some creatures, this is the time when they migrate to warmer areas. Any who choose to stay will use what time is left to prepare for the winter. As the days get colder, it will become more common to see frost, and for late season storms to bring snow instead of rain.

•Winter- The lean times. Apart from the conifers that keep their greenery year round, the trees will be bare. Many creatures will be underground; hibernating or going through the larders stocked during the summer months. Those active and above ground are constantly battling against the cold and hunger. Freezing rain, sleet, and snow are a given. There is little light to be had, and in the northernmost reaches daytime is measured in minutes.

Tropical forests- The seasons are not as noticeable in the tropics. There isn’t that much difference between night and day, trees generally keep their leaves year round, and temperature fluctuations throughout the year are smaller than at more northerly or southerly latitudes. That’s not to say that there are no differences. They just manifest themselves in different ways.

•Wet or Rainy season- This is an obvious one, for it implies a lot of rain. While it will not rain every day, the humidity will be at its highest, with mist and fog a common occurrence. Storms can be violent, and large areas of land can be flooded for weeks or months at a time. Fish and other aquatic animals spread out into flooded forests, whilst other animals become more concentrated in areas above the floodwaters.

•Dry season-Another obvious one. Rainfall can be scarce to nonexistent, depending on the area. Dry forests at first appearance resemble a temperate forest in winter, as trees in both shed their leaves. But in the tropics, it is hot, and animal life concentrates wherever there is permanent water.

•Cyclone season- Anywhere close to the ocean runs the risk of tropical storms (roughly June-October in the northern hemisphere and November-March in the southern). These are violent events that can cause floods, uproot trees, and overall make life difficult both during and after the storm.

•Seasons in upland and cloud forests- The effects of elevation can be quite similar to those of higher latitudes. Though the day/night cycle remains constant, temperatures fluctuate more than at lower elevations. Nights are cooler than days, trees gradually change from evergreen to deciduous, and some areas can see snow if it gets cold enough. Animals here tends to follow a similar pattern to those in temperate forests, with some species choosing to migrate, hibernate, or stockpile food in response to colder temperatures.

[irithnova]

Sakha and Evenkia's relationship

In this post I’m going to be talking about Sakha and Evenkia's mentor-student relationship. In my master post about Sakha I talked about how we can see how the Sakha people assimilated certain peoples into their own through observing certain traditions of theirs, the most prominent being their shamanic traditions which were greatly influenced by the Evenks and Evens.

The Evenks have had a profound influence on Sakha culture in particular though, which is why I headcanon Sakha and Evenkia to have a mentor-student relationship, or more like, they used to have a mentor student relationship. The Sakha’s people genesis began when they migrated from the area of Lake Baikal/Southern Siberia up Northwards, most likely because of pressure from the expanding Mongol Empire.

When Sakha first migrated, he came into contact with a number of different people, such as the Yukaghir, Even, and Evenks, who he considers all his mentors to an extent, however Evenkia was the most prominent one and had the most impact on his culture.

Sakha was young, bright eyed, eager and somewhat annoying, especially to his older neighbours who were pressured to move upwards because of him. Evenkia was also kind of irked by him, but was much more willing to guide him than the others were. Close contact and intermarriage between the Sakha and Evenk people

Let’s first compare both Sakha and Evenkia folk epics about the universe and see how similar they are, and then talk about Evenks influence on the Sakha language.

Sakha Folk Epic Olonkho:

- Sakha epic poetry envisions the universe with three levels: Earth (middle), Heaven (upper), and Hell (lower).

- The universe is symbolised as a giant tree, Aal Luuk Mas, housing these levels.

- Lower level: Devil (abaahy), Middle level: ajyy people, Upper level: deities and some evil spirits.

- Earth and Heaven are interconnected, with Heaven representing spirituality and Earth as a material entity.

- Animism features gods (ajyy), demons (abaahy), spirits (itchi), ancestors, and animals (üör) across the three levels.

- Different regions in the upper world are designated for creators, good spirits, ancestors, and evil spirits ruled by Uluu Toyon.

- Heavenly bodies influence life on Earth; the Sun is associated with Yurung Aar Toyon, the god who rules destinies.

- Olonkho describes Heaven with 7 (sometimes 8 or 9) layers and 4 parts (East, West, North, South).

- Yurung Aar Toyon (upper God, the white master, white creator) is the Master of 9 heavens, Tsar of 8 heavens, and prince of 7 heavens.

- Heaven writers record each person’s destiny, and shamans, transforming into clouds, encounter different cloud types.

- Cloud characteristics (all clouds have their own characteristics): ‘aahar bylyt’ (passing), ‘kuotar bylyt’ (escaping), ‘jetineh bylyttar’ (thunderstorm clouds).

Now let’s compare to Evenki tradition about the universe:

- Evenk epic envisions the universe, which they call Buga, with three levels: upper (Ugu Buga), middle (Dulin Buga), and lower (Hergu Buga).

- Ugu Buga (heaven) has parts like Juri Jultjen Turinyn (place of the rising sun), Jenin Nadar Bomchar (mother of the seven canyons), and Nadan Buldjar (land of seven seas)

- Earth, referred to as Sivir, is described as the “mane of our Earth,” the middle green world.

- Ugu Buga, the upper world, is portrayed as a place of eternal summer and well-being. God Seveki resides there, creating the middle world.

- Warriors from the middle world journey to the upper world to seek brides – daughters of the sun Dylacha Khunadin, moon, and stars Bega Khunadin.

- Buga represents the upper entity governing nature, taiga life, and human-animal spirits, with Buga Musin (mistress of the universe) depicted as a moose cow, reindeer, or an old woman in charge of spirits.

- Humans are associated with heavenly entities like Dylacha (sun), Gevan (dawn), Nyangnya (heaven), and sky. Humans are living things that are a subject to these entities.

- Tribes like ai, aji, agbea, aji ajmak, ai tegel have names reflecting qualities of help, rescue, goodness, and beauty.

- Their purpose is to create good in the middle and upper worlds, opposing the Avakhi tribe from the lower world, engaged in constant conflict without intermarriage.

As we can see, they both share the same HEAVEN – MAN – EARTH triad. However there are some differences along with the similarities. In the epic worldview of both the Sakha and Evenk, the structure of the heavens is remarkably alike. However, the Sakha cultural narrative doesn’t distinctly portray heaven and earth as realms of good and evil. The Sakha envision heaven as not only inhabited by gods but also by evil spirits and ancestors, while for the Evenk, heaven resembles a paradise. According to Evenk epics, devils and enemies are only confined to the lower world, whereas Sakha epics depict evil spirits across all three worlds.

The sky god, recognised as the Creator of the Middle World, is referred to as “Yurung Aar Toyon” in Sakha and “Seveki” in Evenk. The Sakha term the middle world as “ajyy land” and its inhabitants as “ajyy ajmaga,” whereas the Evenk collectively call the residents of all three levels as “aji.”

The Sakha and Evenk people also share the concept of the Serge as being the model of the universe:

- A Serge is like a pillar used to tie horses in Sakha culture.

- In Sakha, it's important for shaman traditions and used in rituals during celebrations, weddings, and the summer holiday Yhyakh.

- In Evenk culture, Serge is a special object representing the world's structure. It has three parts: the upper dome for the upper world, the disc-shaped part for the middle world, and the rounded part for the lower world.

- A sacred reindeer tied to the pillar serves as a connection between humans and God, specifically the Master of the upper world, named Seveki.

So Sakha and Evenkia do have a number of similarities when it comes to their religious practices from their time living together. The Sakha people adapted aspects of Evenk belief into their own.

When Sakha first arrived, as I said before, Evenkia was initially irked by him, as the migrations pressured his own people to move further Northwards. However this did not last long. Evenkia certainly took a liking to Sakha. In Evenk culture, many of the children’s activities mimicked adult duties, and so it was almost natural that Evenkia would want to teach a (younger) Sakha and take him under his wing, especially considering how keen Sakha was to learn because of the fact that he only just recently moved there and needed to help around. Evenkia was a huge relief for him.

A lot of the words Sakha borrowed from Evenkia was a result of him trying to adapt to new living conditions:

- In phonetics, some changes occurred in Sakha due to Evenk influence, like certain sounds not occurring at the beginning of words (g, h and p) and changes in intonation.

- Morphologically, Sakha borrowed affixes like -chaan and -ndja, -ndaa from Evenki.

- Vocabulary-wise, Sakha borrowed words related to landscape, flora, fauna, clothing, reindeer breeding, and dwelling from Evenk.

- Polish scholar S. Kaluzhinsky found around 400 Tungusic words in Sakha and listed more words related to various aspects of life.

- Evenk words were likely borrowed during the Sakha adaptation to new living conditions, with a focus on clothes, bird names, geographical features, animals, plants, and reindeer breeding terminology.

So in this sense Evenkia truly was Sakha’s teacher/mentor, and was one of the reasons why Sakha was able to adapt to and make sense of the new living conditions he found himself in. They got comfortable with each other pretty quickly, and Evenkia tried to instill in him certain values that he thought were important – such as not gossiping or rumour spreading. In Evenk culture, gossiping/rumour spreading is greatly frowned upon, and most likely had something to do with not screwing up the accuracy of the location of an animal during a hunt. I’ll refer back to this later, but all in all, Sakha learned a lot from Evenkia, and Evenkia was more than pleased to teach him.

They certainly got comfortable with each other quite quickly, and Sakha definitely found Evenkia’s more bawdy jokes in particular to be quite funny, but was careful not to make them back (in Evenk culture, bawdy jokes are acceptable but elders are allowed to make them in front of younger people and men in front of women, but not the other way around)

Now onto Sakha and Evenkias relationship with Dolgan. I talked about Sakha’s relationship with Dolgan and how he’s like a father to her in a previous post:

“Quick sidenote on the Dolgan: I see Sakha as being quite close with Dolgan. Dolgan culture incorporates aspects from different groups, including reindeer herding from the Evenki, herd dogs from the Nentsy, and women's fur coats from the Sakha.

In fact, the Dolgan people originated from a few Evenk clans that later adopted a dialect of the Turkic-speaking Sakha (Yakut).

So Sakha does try to look out for Dolgan and imagining him like. Dressing her up/giving her clothes and jewellery is so cutee. He's a lot more involved with her than Evenkia is, much to his annoyance.”

I also see Dolgan taking after Sakha personality wise, as I see Sakha as someone who is quite hard headed/outspoken (I jokingly called him the Saul Goodman of Siberia) and I see Dolgan being that way too, as the Dolgan people wield a lot of influence in Siberia despite their small numbers,

“The 2002 Russian census recorded 7,261 Dolgans in the whole Russian Federation. The Dolgan people today are one of the most politically powerful groups in their territory, and many senior officials of the Taimyr Autonomous Okrug are Dolgans.”

“The Dolgans and other indigenous peoples in the Taimyr Autonomous Okrug have created an Association of the Indigenous Peoples of the Taimyr Autonomous Okrug through which they are demanding the rights to control their own destinies. The Association has declared that indigenous peoples in Taimyr have priority rights to the land and its subsurface resources and hopes to be able to use revenues from mineral exploitation and economic development to fund programs addressing the many social and economic problems facing indigenous peoples today.”

So Dolgan really is like Sakha’s protégé/junior (and yes he’s very proud of her).

This is more of a crack headcanon of mine but seeing as the Dolgan originated from Evenk clans that took on a dialect of the Sakha language, I see Dolgan as almost being their child. Though I believe that Sakha had a much greater hand in her upbringing considering they, again, took on a dialect of the Sakha language, took on Sakha attire and personality wise, she’s also very much like Sakha. However she physically looks more similar to Evenkia. Due to the fact that Sakha had a greater role in her upbringing he uhh holds some resentment towards Evenkia for dumping her on him for not having a bigger part in it, he was his mentor after all. Evenkia dismisses his complaints as silly rumours (“didn’t I teach you the importance of not gossiping?), which only annoys Sakha further.

It’s okay though, Sakha is now bigger and stronger than his previous mentor and can make him pay him back in his own way ;)

But in all seriousness, Sakha does credit Evenkia with helping him adapt and survive when he first moved and won’t ever deny that, though he sometimes finds Evenkia irksome to deal with these days. Yukaghir defends Evenkia because she’s also an oldie and so she uses his age to defend him most of the time.

[forgivemeforgetmenot]

Unwritten

(Cloud x Aerith Fanfic)

Chapter 3: Intoxicated

"Daddy!!" cried Marlene, dashing past a beaming Elmyra. Barret chuckled as he scooped up his daughter and kissed her tiny face.

"How you doin' baby girl? You been good for Elmyra, yeah?"

"Always, Daddy!"

The gang exchanged greetings as Aerith's mother ushered them inside the cozy cottage. "Something smells delicious," chimed Aerith, bouncing to the kitchen.

"You all are back just in time; I'm making Miso Yasai Ramen for dinner," Elmyra said. "Please, please, everyone, make yourselves comfortable. Wash up, unpack your things, and decompress. There's still some time before the food's ready."

"Thank you so much for your hospitality, Ms. Gainsborough," Tifa exhaled. She ruffled Marlene's hair on her way upstairs, earning a giggle from the child clinging closely to Red XIII.

Cloud's eyes trailed after her as she vacated the room. They hadn't had the chance to talk since last night when she pelted him with Aerith-related questions and raced off. He nearly rose from his seat at the coffee table but decided to leave her be.

"Yeah," added Barret awkwardly, "Thanks again for keepin' an eye on my Marlene. I can't tell ya how much it… means to me."

Elmyra, now overlooking a pot on the stove, waved him off, "Oh, dear, I've told you repeatedly that you don't need to keep thanking me. Spending time with Marlene is a pleasure. She kind of reminds me of you when you were younger." She pointed a wooden spoon toward Aerith, spurring the brunette to smile.

"Marlene's far more well-behaved than I was," Aerith giggled, winking at her. Marlene laughed, mimicking her wink.

"Oh!" the little girl suddenly exclaimed, "Daddy, Elmyra helped me plant my first flower! Wanna see?"

Before Barret could respond, Marlene jumped up, grabbed her father's hand, and started pulling toward the door. "Come too, Red!" Marlene pleaded to the smiling beast.

Red nodded, "Aye, aye, captain," and casually followed the two outside.

"Did you plant azaleas?" Aerith asked her mother, strolling over to the table. Although all the seats were empty, she picked the spot closest to Cloud's; he swallowed.

Elmyra eyed her daughter, then smiled tenderly. "Actually, yes. I don't know why I still feel surprised after all these years."

"Surprised? About?" Aerith repeated, tilting her head.

"About your intuition," she laughed.

Aerith smiled, facing Cloud. "Azaleas represent family and unity. Planting them is a good reminder for Marlene that even though Barret can't always be here physically," Aerith placed her hand gently on his chest, "he'll always be right there."

His heart raced; he hoped she couldn't feel it pounding against her palm. Embarrassment flushed Cloud's cheeks, forcing him to avert his gaze. He hated it when she did things like this, especially in front of others."You've been awfully quiet this evening, Cloud," commented Elmyra.

"Cloud's always quiet," Aerith teased, nudging him.

"Well, you talk enough for the both of us," he retorted. Elmyra emitted a hearty laugh as Aerith feigned a hurt expression.

"Oh, you. Don't act like you aren't hanging onto every word."

He blushed, then ascended to his feet. He needed a break from all of Aerith's poking and prodding. "I'm going to wash up," Cloud announced shortly before escaping to the restroom.

After devouring Elmyra's delectable meal, the group migrated outside to relax. The Gainsborough's property was already breathtaking during the day; it appeared like a page torn out of a fairytale book Barret might read to Marlene at night.

Fireflies floated to and fro, illuminating the massive garden with an ethereal glow. The air smelled of fresh flowers and herbs; Cloud inhaled deeply, relishing in the sweet aroma; its ambiance soothed him in a way no other place could.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Marlene wordlessly slip her hand into Aerith's, guiding her out of sight. "Probably showing off her Azaleas," Red remarked, sidling beside Cloud.

"Mm," he nodded.

"Don't be jealous; I'm sure she'll show you too," he joked.

Marlene had warmed up to Cloud considerably over the last several months, but he could tell she was still somewhat leery of him. He was never a people person, but kids were the ultimate test of patience. "Don't care. Flowers aren't my thing anyway," he replied nonchalantly.

Red chuckled, "Maybe if you were more honest about the fact that you do care, she'd braid your hair and pick flowers with you too."

"And she'll treat me like a housecat like you, too? No thanks," Cloud quipped.

Red smiled, his eyes trailing after the fireflies, "It's not what you think. Caring doesn't make you weak. It's okay to be transparent about it. In fact, people tend to like it."

"I don't care what people like," the merc folded his arms.

Aerith and Marlene reemerged hand-in-hand. Cloud followed the Cetra's every movement. Marlene started bouncing beside her, urging her to "dance" with the fireflies. Aerith gleefully complied, and the two twirled around, laughing. 

"Are you sure about that?" Red smirked, sauntering past Cloud and over to the girls. After some convincing, Tifa and Barret joined the trio. Cloud observed as they pranced around each other, laughing without a care.

Aerith caught him watching and waved him over. Cloud looked away shyly; he'd rather dive headfirst into a pool full of lava than ever dance again. 

Aerith abandoned the frolicking group and advanced toward him. Before she could speak, Cloud was already shaking his head. "No, no, no," he stated firmly, backing away from her.

She sped up and seized his hand, giggling, "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Aerith," he complained as she jerked him closer.

"Cloud," she imitated his tone, swaying their arms back and forth playfully, "Come ooon! All of Midgar knows how well you can dance; you can't just squander your talent away brooding in the shadows."

Without further protest, he allowed the exuberant woman to position his hand on her waist. She placed a hand on his shoulder and interlocked her other with his. They clumsily wobbled around; Cloud nervously followed her lead as they rocked back and forth.

Aerith giggled, gazing into his eyes as they danced. Cloud worried he was blushing; he wanted to avoid her face but, for some reason, couldn't pry himself away. Her green eyes glimmered as bright as the lightning bugs encircling the pair. Mesmerized, his bottom lip dropped slightly,

"What is it?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Hm?" he replied, transfixed.

"Your face; you look thoughtful. Wistful," Aerith specified, still guiding their haphazard movements.

"I'm…not thinking anything."

It wasn't entirely dishonest. Cloud felt disoriented. Anxious? No, intoxicated. He wasn't exactly thinking anything specific, but his being was overwhelmed with feelings—sensations he wasn't sure how to convey. "Hmm," she eyed him skeptically.

Feeling overwhelmed, Cloud pulled away abruptly. He glanced at the house as Aerith whined. "We didn't even do the Moogle Dance!"

Cloud rasped, striding past her. He noticed Tifa staring glumly. Earlier, she looked so joyful with their friends. What happened? "Going to bed?" she asked softly as he walked toward the door. Barret, Marlene, and Red were still bopping around happily.

He nodded, uncertain of what to say to her. Should he ask what's wrong? Should he address last night? He feared saying something that might make her feel worse. Instead, he sat down silently beside her on the porch. "Tired of dancing?" Cloud asked while observing the others. His eyes instinctively drifted to Aerith, now gazing up at the sky.

"Kind of," Tifa laughed, then added, "How about you? You were really grooving over there."

"I was being held hostage," he muttered, lounging.

"I don't know. You looked like…you were having fun to me," Tifa reflected quietly.

Cloud studied her. She altered her sorrowful expression with a smile, "It's nice. You know, to see you loosen up."

"You just enjoy watching me make a fool of myself."

"That too," Tifa giggled.

The two friends sat in silence for a moment. Then Cloud asked, "You okay?"

The question seemingly startled Tifa, who stood almost immediately. "Yeah, of course," she smiled, "Just tired."

Cloud nodded slowly, hesitant to accept her excuse. 

"I'm gonna try to get some sleep," she decided, "Goodnight, Cloud."

"Night," he replied.

Tifa stepped to the door but paused before twisting the knob. Cloud expected her to say something else, but she finally went inside without another word.

Gradually, everyone else filed inside. First, Barret and Marlene. Shortly after, Red XIII. A half-hour later, Aerith approached the porch with a peaceful smile. "Are you stargazing too?" she asked, plopping beside him.

"Something like that." Truthfully, he'd been watching her more than anything else out there. 

"Oooor, are you avoiding sleep?"

Cloud looked at her with a curious expression and asked, "What?"

Aerith met his gaze, "You won't have any nightmares here. Promise."

He diverted his view upward to spot a patch of shimmering stars.

"Do you trust me, Cloud?"

The question caught him off guard, "W-What?"

"Do you trust me?" she reprised, leaning closer.

"Of course," he replied, to his surprise, without hesitation.

"Good!" Aerith beamed, slipping her hand into his and guiding him to his feet.

"Where are we going," he questioned. She pulled him down a path and to a cluster of pink Azaleas.

"Marlene asked me to show you. Aren't they so beautiful?"

"Yeah, they're um… pretty," Cloud awkwardly agreed.

He scanned the flowers surrounding them and settled on a patch of yellow lilies—the same flower Aerith gifted him when they first met.

"Are those your favorite?" she asked, noticing.

Cloud folded his arms, "Dunno."

"Do you remember what they symbolize?" she asked, plucking one and placing it on his chest, just as she had done a lifetime ago.

"Reunion," he answered, lifting his eyes from the flower to her.

"That's right!" she said merrily, "Now for your prize."

Before he could respond, Aerith's pursed lips were pressed to his cheek. The kiss was mere centimeters away from the corner of his mouth. For a moment, Cloud wondered if she'd intended something more intimate. Part of him was relieved she missed her potential mark; another part felt…disappointed?

Her hands lingered against his chest, careful not to crush the yellow lily she gave him. Cloud swallowed hard, voiceless. Stop doing that, he should tell her. You mess around too much. 

Cloud's eyes descended to her mouth. She placed the back of her hand on his forehead. "Are you feeling okay, Cloud? You look a little sweaty."

He grabbed her wrist, pulled it away from his face, and held it. "Stop doing that," he scolded.

"Doing what?"

"You know what," he griped, still clutching her.

Aerith's head tilted to the side with a confused expression.

Cloud scowled, clarifying, "You can't just… go around touching and kissing people like that."

Aerith laughed, "You're not people, silly."

"I'm not," Cloud paused, unsure how to express his issue, "I'm not your boyfriend."  

For the first time in a long time, Aerith broke eye contact first, her gaze plunging to the ground. Her usual warm smile vanished. Had he hurt her feelings? "I didn't realize it bothered you," she said quietly.

He lowered her arm to her side before letting go. The desire to hold her bubbled inside of him; Cloud wasn't a physically affectionate person or affectionate, at all. Comforting people wasn't his specialty; fighting was. Right now, however, he felt the impulse to at least try. Take it back. Tell her you don't mind. Hug her.

Cloud only stared at her, "Aerith…"

"I know," she said with glistening eyes, "you're not my boyfriend." Much like Tifa had done earlier that evening, Aerith disguised her sorrow with a smile and a joke, "You're my bodyguard!"

She brushed past him; he turned and recaptured her arm, suspending her. She pivoted to face him and smiled, "Bedtime, Cloud."

"Just wait," he ordered.

"For?"

"I…don't mind. Not really," The confession rolled from Cloud's mouth as though he'd been struggling to cough up a boulder.

"Jeez, Cloud," Aerith playfully pouted, "Make up your mind; now you're confusing me."

"I'm confusing you?" he scoffed. Says the woman who can't keep her lips to herself.

Cloud groaned, released Aerith, and plodded past her. He didn't get paid enough for this. Or at all, actually.