#also baby clouds are back to bring a whirlwind of energy

[aideshou]

[ficsnroses]

Let Me Help - Keanu Reeves x Reader

summary : during quarantine, your husband keanu worries you’ve been working too much and offers to comfort you, by helping you wind down. requested!

warnings : smut. oral sex [female receiving] loads of fluff! a very concerned keanu. x f! reader. 3.3k.

notes : this was requested by a lovely reader. I wrote this near the end of august, and touched it up a little last night for posting. I’m hoping to get back to writing some new stuff real soon, look forward to that! feedback appreciated, hope you enjoy xx :)

In the wake of the day break sun, a fatigued Keanu trudges down the wooden stairs of your shared home; a hand raked through tousled bed head locks, half executed yawn breathed off his lips. The house seems dead silent, the sound of a hissing coffee pot and keyboard clicking fingers apparent far distantly downstairs.

He’d woke up to the spot beside him in the bed vacant, and the figure that had quietly been tucked under the security of his arm all night, absent.

Normally, the morning dew would greet him with the feel of his love curled against his chest, consumed in a warm sea of silky sheet enveloped around them. Mornings like that were his favourite; where you’d hold him close, your drowsy AM gaze would open to the sight of him, his mocha eyes locked to your resting frame, limbs tangled as one.

“Good morning, handsome.” You’d quietly mumble, tinted smile groggily musing with a deeper cuddle into his chest, and he’d quietly chuckle at the way stray locks fall in your eyes, barely peeking his way. ‘Good morning to you too,’ the words would sweetly melt off his lips, peppering small, gentle morning greetings into your hair as he’d draw you closer, smiling.

Smiling at your little, personal piece of heaven you’d built.

Keanu trudges further, slow pace deliberate, swallowing tightly to the known sight he knew he’d perceive as he’d venture to the bottom of the stairs to your kitchen, where you were surely sat. He wasn’t tired, per say, yet his mood tinged a drought of sour.

You’d been working, constantly, through out the entirety of the declared lockdown in your home town. Those once blissful mornings had been rare; stolen, gentle kisses and mindless relishes in each other’s arms non frequent since the quarantine began. Not only did his lovesick heart miss you, his mind also worried. He worried far, he worried frequent-

that the women he loves with his entire heart, hadn’t been taking care of herself. Over the years spent together, Keanu had come to learn all too well. You take immense pride in your work; nevertheless, that strive for excellence often has tendency to override, to conquer each ounce of energy and dedication that courses through your veins.

He admires, loves your dedication. Yet he worries. He fears that you’ll overwhelm, burn out.

Over anything; any hinder, any instance, the sole triumph had always been you. You, your health, your safety. It’s the lone thought that matters to him, the only thing that truly matters.

Through sickness and through health; it’s what you’d both promised.

Approached to the kitchen entrance, Keanu sighs a warm smile, seeing your frame lounged against the granite wall counter, coffee pot in hand as you’d replenished your favourite noir mug. Dressed in a pair of sleeping shorts equipped with his oversize t-shirt, his heart hitches, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you.

Each breath taken around you, capsules in a warm, heavenly kiss. Only you’d ever been able to do that to him. Only you could bring his heart to its knees, each and every day.

Soft, quietly, Keanu lingers behind your smaller figure, humming a gentle morning ease, thin lips placed to the back of your head as his arms circle your waist. “Morning, gorgeous.” he whispers, a gravelly rasp thick to his sleep awoken voice. Tinged to a curled upwards smile, his nose idles in your locks, senses enveloped by the sweet saccharine of coconut shampoo and something that resembles florals, flowers, silk and satin.

All things good, all things beautiful. All things that take his breath away.

You’d told him the day you first met; your fascination with the sun, and her flowers. Her roses, her violets, her world that breathes, only when she lights a glow, revitalising all that live under her, flourish under her.

Smiling faintly, a hand reaches behind, tangling in the dusty strands of his lengthy mane, as your other plants warmly to his arm that holds your body close by the waist. “Good morning.” You smile, turning gentle in his warm embrace, with a delicate kiss pecked to his thin taut lips. “Sleep okay?” You wonder, escaping his hold to return to your impromptu work station, situated at the marble kitchen counter. Stray papers decorate the surface, ball point pens and open laptop screens speckled about. Keanu’s smile fades, and he watches your weak frame shift back to your occupied spot.

“Didn’t like waking up without you there.” He confesses, watching the way you resume lineage to the sheets and workload below. An old, half empty cup of morning dark rests to your table side, cold; long forgotten and forlorn. It had solidified his assumption; you’d more likely than not been up for far longer than he’d originally supposed, slaved, laboured to the never ending, self assigned work load purging at your fingertips.

Thus far, avoidance had been crisp on his lips, the words that threatened to spill had seldom died in his throat before extending any further. His love for you ran farther, deeper than could be explicable. He’d always strived for you to do anything you thought was right, he’d never come in the way of you or your career.

Yet as of late, the boil, the sear of burden inside his veins threatened to leak. Through tired eyes accompanied with dark, tiresome bags, he’d noticed the toll never ending workload had begun to take on your brittle form. He’d sensed the way a part of you faded day by day, succumbing to the drudgery toil. With his toned arms crossing, and an attentive lean to the granite kitchen counter, a worrisome Keanu speaks into the empty, quiet AM air, his voice a certain echo through the gray kitchen corridors. “Baby, do you have to work today?”

You’d barely glanced his way, before continually reverting to your task below. Inhaled deeply, a sip from your mug swelters on your tongue, the bitter taste of a roasty caffeine kick igniting that acquainted burn to your tongue. A burn, something familiar, something that reminds you of there still being discipline, still being normality. “Of course I have to work, Keanu.” You’d dryly returned, tone singed with a far bitter tint than you’d intended. Yet, you’d pledged known thought that he wouldn’t let the issue die so easily. He’d press, he’d push; knowing it was the pull you’d sometimes needed.

“Hey,” Keanu barely speaks, his voice a quiet whisper so calm, so soothing, you’d nearly succumbed into his arms to the mere hint of it. His larger frame falls to its knees, kneeling beside you sat on the kitchen chair. Heavy, gentle, his breath falls dense, weightier hands collecting your softer ones in return to a gentle grasp. His lips are warm; brimmed with special affection; admiration.

Before Keanu, you’d not known the feeling of being completely, hopelessly adored by someone. He did that to you. He did that, for you.

He’d never let you forget the feeling of being adored.

A few measly kisses pepper to your hands from his lips; to your palms, your knuckles, your fingers, and with a hefty sigh, he voices his unease. “I’m just worried.” He begins, eyes connecting to yours in a knowing plead. Keanu is a man of few words; his speech proves selective; he’d never say anything that would interfere with what you truly wanted.

Yet, his heart, and yours, are old friends.

He knows you all too well, knows you’re not where you want to be. “You can understand that, right?” He asks, a gentle nod accompanying. Fixed on yours, his eyes hold your gaze. Warm, cocoa eyes that gleam with that beautiful familiarity. His eyes were something else,

something calming, something that grounds you when you’d need it most. Security.

Only to him, you could express any thoughts, any feelings, anything at all without the fear of what would follow. His heart and yours, are old, old friends. Looking away, you sigh, locking your fingers around his hand that holds your tighter. “I…I know.” You declare. “I get it. I just…” Keanu watches you keenly, his hands never letting go of yours as he listens intent.

“I just feel like…I need to be doing something. I need a routine, I need something prolific, something…productive while we’re stuck at home.” You lament, heart heavy as your deeper fears paint clouds of grey in your chest. “I need something real.” Whispering almost, your eyes fall disheartened, a frown douses your features. “Something that feels like I’m not wasting away.”

“I’m real...” Keanu explains through a quiet undertone, murmuring, eyes desperately trying to hold your fraying gaze that almost feels…ashamed to look at him. Awful feelings flood your mind, the thought of letting him down overwhelming.

“You know what I mean, baby.” You reason, head tilting to a noticeable look of blue on his darker features. With your gentle hand cupping his beard ridden cheek, your eyes sadden. You’d never want him to feel as if he wasn’t enough,

because he was everything. He was all that had truly been keeping you alright, keeping you from slipping into an overwhelming whirlwind of self destruction over this period of uncertain time.

“Hey,” Keanu assures, taking hold of your wrist that holds his cheek. “We’re real. This is real.” He speaks. “You, are the realest thing I know, baby.” And the to sound of his voice, you smile. This man, the man you so gratefully call your own, never fails to cast a smile to your lips. “Let me take care of you.” He speaks, voice thick with reason, as your brows furrow to the proposition. “Just for today. You deserve it, sweetheart. I’ll do anything you need; cook, foot rubs, massages, anything at all.” He appeals, desperately hoping you’d agree, rather than burying yourself under an endless workload for the remainder of the day. “I need you here on earth today,” He smiles, knowingly. “With me.” And to the sight of his glowing orbs, and hopeful gaze, your heart fills with warmth.

Watching his profile with a halted breath, another beat of silence follows, flows before a slight smile ultimately tugs one side of your mouth upwards, heart warming at his determination. Your lover, is something different. Something special inside him grows. Something warm, something,

that you fail to remember when,

had become a necessity.

“God, I’ve missed you so much, baby.” Keanu quietly whispers, your satin skin sprawled upon the silky sheets of your California king, hands tangled to his hair as his lips daub gentle, love soaked kisses along the silk of your body. Through a broken moan, laced with a breathy gasp, your lips barely manage; the feel of his warm mouth marking a delicate, violet bruise into the skin of your breast overwhelming shockwaves, piercing each and every wavelength inside you that longed for him now, craved to feel him closer.

When he’d insisted on taking the day to make you feel ease, you should have known right away, swift, that the first activity on the menu would be a good, much needed, passionate

fuck.

Moving from your lips, Keanu’s kisses trail gently, feverishly across the bare skin of your mid, bulkier hands palming the soft swell of your breasts, soft and tender to his touch. “Gonna make you feel so good, baby.” He assures, between peppered pecks, grazes of his lips across your skin, inching near the throb that ached between your legs. Fiddling with the flimsy material of your underwear, two stocky digits slip into the fabric, gently peeling the textile off, discarded mindlessly to the carpeted floor below.

“Ke…” You breathe, heavy, restrained. His face hovers just above your bare, exposed centre, and his arms move to plant under your thighs, urging your pussy closer to his lustful lips that begged for a taste. Back arching, your nails tangle, scratched to his scalp when his mouth delves lower, trailing a few sauntered kisses to the insides of your thighs, two sturdy fingers slicked between your moist arousal, rubbing a swell to your clit as it thrived for more stimulation; ached for his mouth to make art along your womanhood. To decorate your warm, wet haven with a symphony of his want. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your pulsing clit, licking a gentle stride to the slit of your fold. With one of his hands moving to hold yours on the rippled bedsheets, his other pumps sinful fingers inside your cunt, adding stimulation. Merely a lewd moan flees your lips, eyes clasped shut as the feel of his sinfully warm tongue lapping your nectar overtakes, and you practically cry a whimper when the feeling of sheer, burning bliss coils, bubbles in your mid. Keanu has always been a giver, his skill, his expertise, his attention to detail never fail to make you feel as if a painting; a mural he paints with vibrant hues, vibrant tones; music he makes spill out your body each and every time he works you this way.

Each time he shows you the stars alike; each time he shows you just how fucking much he loves you.

The sounds of your wetness slicking his lips fill the room, laced with the searing sound of your gasping moans, yelping groans at the way his hold on your hand tightens, tongue flattening with alternating flicks between fast and slow, delicate sucks and kisses to your ached clit. Keanu works a symphony of pace, spreading your folds as needed, skilfully conjuring an orgasm to build inside you that you knew would channel you into absolute oblivion, at a mere 10:00AM in the morning.

“Please…” You beg, pleading, gazing down at the sight of your love between your legs, devouring you whole. “Please don’t stop, babe.” You drip, toes curling, spare hand clenched to the bedsheets. “I’m so close.” Hips bucking, disjointed moans squirm under his touch, his suave voice pushing your need for release further to the end.

“You sound so sexy, angel.” He encourages, circular motions firm, stubbled beard burning against your core. And to the sound of his lust thick tone, your climax washes over you with the force of a strong ocean current; one that rummages over the ocean shore, spilling strong, warm relief over each inch of your body.

As the nirvana dies, and your eyes barely open again, his chocolate gaze watches you with a smile; clearly pleased with how deliciously he’d given you the orgasm of your dreams. Glossy on his beard, your release coats in a glaze to his chin, and you bite your pink stained lips, sighing at the way he still looks into you,

as if viewing his favourite picture; his favourite dream. As if the light of every star in the universe’s dire sky had been embedded inside you.

Something special grows inside him; something so sincere, something that thrives off of nothing, but loving you so well, so good.

“Thank you.” Is all you’d managed, sighing, cupping his dark tined cheek when he comes up, offering a soft kiss to your lips as his hand still holds yours, tenderly. You hadn’t realized how desperate you’d needed relief, how frantic you needed escape from the world around.

And with a simpered smirk and wet kiss daubed to your neck, Keanu kisses your forehead, one hand still held to yours as his other strokes his meaty shaft, fully erect from the pornographic sight of you moaning, whimpering, embellished in utter ecstasy as you’d cum for him. “Oh baby,” He kisses the corner of your lips, sloppy palm tugging a few measly strokes to his dangerously thick, glorious cock; felt strongly aroused, stabbing against the soft skin of your stomach. “I’m not done with you just yet.”

The day had complied, had been spent with just you, and him. Together, through each waking minute, lost together, relishing together.

After drawing you a steamy, heavenly eased bubble bath, in which he’d joined you tenderly after your AM rumble, your dream of a man had helped wash you, massaged a gentle cleanse to your hair through soft kisses, and intimate grazes of each other’s skin.

“I love you, so much.” He’d whispered into your ear, flushy pink chest pressed firm to your back as you’d lounged against him in the soapy water; fragrant aroma of roses and lavender kissed to each sense. Bubble bath’s shared with Keanu had always been your favourite; you’d forgotten how dire you’d needed simplicity. How great you’d needed to share simple, carefree, intimate moments with him during the chaotic shambles the world held, upon these uncertain times.

You’d forgotten that your remedy, the only antidote you’d ever needed, had been resting at your finger tips. He’d been holding you tenderly each night, kissing you awake every morning. He’d been checking in on you, gently brushing strokes to your hair and offering you kind hugs when you’d needed them most.

He’d been silently, quietly forgetting to care for himself as he watched you, trying everything in his power to make sure that you’d be alright. So much, that he’d broken down in his own, unique way today, for you.

What you saw in his eyes this morning, as he begged, pleaded for you to allow him to take care of you; was something different. It was fear, it was surrender.

He’d surrendered a part of himself to you. A part you’d always hold, always keep. This morning, he’d begged you to remember it. To remember, that a part of him, lives within you, part of him resides within you.

He’d begged you to take care of that part of him today. To allow yourself to remember that you need to flourish, need to slow down, before that part of you breaks.

A piece of him belongs to you, and he’d begged you to care for it. To care for yourself; because you and him, that us that resides within you, is truly,

something else.

Something so powerful, so real.

You and him, against the world.

       It’s what you’d promised.

“Baby?” You barely whisper, snuggled into his warm embrace on the snug living room sofa. With your head on his chest, both his arms wrap around your body, holding you close as you’d both gazed the blue TV screen; reruns of your favourite 90’s sitcom portrayed to the motion picture. Against your ear, his heartbeat had been calm, collected. Serene, to the feel of your skin against his, knowing you were safe; at ease, resting.

“Yeah?” He quietly wonders, a stray kiss softened to the top of your head. The sun had set, and a gentle evening glow dims in the room, moonlighted silver threatening to spill in soon. As the world outside darkens, and all living things bid goodnight; the world prepares to flourish again. To revenue a moment of calm over the silvery night, to replenish, to prosper tomorrow,

When tomorrow shall come.

“Thank you for holding me.” You whisper, calmly, sweetly, drowsily into his chest. And with a deep chuckle, Keanu’s hands smooth over your back, deep baritone of his chest sending that familiar wave of warm, complete and utter,

gratitude, soaring, flowing inside you. “I’ll always hold you.” He returns, quietly, another kiss into your maven locks, arms tightening around you further as if in fear, that you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold firm enough. And to the sound of his heartfelt confession, you sink further into the feel of him

holding you,

with every last breath. And you remember, that him, this dream, this symphony you fear might just be a dream, is the embodiment, of a thousand feelings, complied all into one. Roses are beautiful, flowers are gorgeous, the sun and her blossoms are wonderful too. But all you really need, is him. This man, that reminds you, that you too,

need to breathe.

You too, need to flourish.

➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴➶ ➴

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[taste-in-music]

taste-in-music’s Year End Wrap-Up

Hello everybody! We’ve finally reached the end of 2020. While I’m glad to leave this miserable year behind, one of things that undeniably got me through it was the vast amount of awesome music we got. In past years I’ve made favorite album and EP lists, but this time around I’m going to tackle them all in one go, giving reviews on the projects that had some significances to me over the course of the year. I’m going to make a post for my favorite songs too, so keep an eye out for that in coming days. Now, without further ado, let’s get started, shall we?

folklore by Taylor Swift: This was an incredible year of growth for Taylor Swift. As much as I’ve enjoyed her past music, the way she constantly felt the need to address what people thought of her always irked me, (though after watching her documentary, I do understand why she did it.) It wasn’t Taylor Swift the public persona that was most interesting, I thought. It was Taylor Swift the artist, the songwriter, the storyteller. What I wanted was an album focused on that. This year, I got one, (well... more on that later,) and it’s my favorite project she’s ever done. The tales Swift spins on folklore span across love triangles, heiresses, and battlefields, and she nails each and every one. While the chilly indie-folk influence from the likes of Aaron Dessner and Justin Vernon is prominent, Swift’s warmth and charisma always cuts through the fog like a beam of sunlight. So yeah, this is my undeniable album of the year.

Fetch The Bolt Cutters by Fiona Apple: I only started listening to Fiona Apple last year and had thoroughly enjoyed her music, but this album cemented her as one of my favorite songwriters and performers of all time. Everything about Fetch The Bolt Cutters is so idiosyncratic yet fits together in just the right way, like watching an entire house being dropped from the sky and falling perfectly into place. It is a testament to the creative process, emotional honesty, and breaking free from all the cages you may find yourself in, whether they be societal, personal, or those of your own making. And in a year that was so isolating, it felt like Apple was whispering everything I needed to hear right into my ear, just when I needed it. In short, my boltcutters have been motherfucking fetched. 

Punisher by Phoebe Bridgers: When Punisher was announced, I had no clue how Phoebe Bridgers would match the quality of Stranger In The Alps. Upon first listen, I wasn’t sure she had. By the fifteenth time I was listening to this album and every lyric was hitting like Cupid’s arrow to the jugular, I knew she’d surpassed it. Punisher presents a sonic scope that both comforts and crushes all at once, like with the upbeat yet mournful horns on “Kyoto” or the cathartic swell on standout “I Know The End.” In my opinion, Bridgers is one of the greatest songwriters of our generation in the making, and I can’t wait to see what the future brings for her. She may know the end, but she’s far from it. 

SAWAYAMA by Rina Sawayama: This is the album I see becoming a new shorthand for the true potential of pop excellence, a cult hit that never got its time to shine but is beloved by pop music geeks to the ends of the earth, like EMOTION by Carly Rae Jepsen. SAWAYAMA so effortlessly blends diverse genres and influences like disco, nu metal, and arena rock, and it yet it remains cohesive due to Rina Sawayama’s sheer strength as a performer. She deserves a spot on the pop girlie hierarchy, and one near the top. 

Future Nostalgia by Dua Lipa: I really enjoyed Dua Lipa’s debut album, but even I didn’t expect her to come through with such a fully realized, consistent, downright fantastic follow up. Future Nostalgia is a pop album that feels studied, like Lipa did her research of pop’s past as she made it. The result is an album that synthesizes several different sounds under her vision, one that is always trained ahead, and it simply slaps. In a perfect world, nearly every song on this album got spun off into a hit single. 

evermore by Taylor Swift: 2020 was already my year of listening to Taylor Swift, (I went through her whole discography, cultivated a favorites playlist, and at the end of the year I was in the top 2% of her yearly Spotify listeners.) evermore was a lovely cherry to top it all off. While folklore enchanted me with its stories, evermore captivated me with its melodies. I haven’t been able to get snippets of this album out. of. my. head. for weeks now. It’s a bit less consistent than it’s older sister, (and likely to live in its shadow,) but there is still so much to love. 

I’m Allergic to Dogs! by Remi Wolf: This EP is so much goddamn fun. It’s a blend of many different sounds, indie pop, electronic, maybe hip hop, I think reggae at points? It’s such a colorful, textured, quirky listen bristling with energy and undeniable hooks. “Woo!” conquered my Summer, and months later the bridge of “Photo ID” conquered TikTok. Keep your eye out for Remi Wolf in the coming year, she’s going to make a big splash. 

Good At Being Young by Charli Adams: Good At Being Young was the first EP this year that I could not get enough of. It drifts through dreamy indie-pop sounds, with melancholic guitars and cloudy synths, and Adams has a deep vocal timbre that delivers tales of adolescent tribulations with just the right amount of wistfulness. Overall, it builds the perfect soundscape for a late-night drive.

Cape God by Allie X: Allie X has been keeping us FED with content. It seems like only yesterday that Super Sunset came out, and yet her output remains impressively consistent. This album has impressive highs, some lower moments, but the danceability, duets, and enticing darkness under its shiny pop veneer make it a record you won’t want to skip. 

La vita nuova by Christine and The Queens: Perhaps the biggest flex of 2020 was Christine and The Queens dropping a fantastic EP and accompanying short film right out of the gate. The grooves on this are infectious, wiry, and air-tight, (the Caroline Polachek feature was another added bonus,) but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of emotional weight too. 

Lighter by Donna Missal: This was one of my most anticipated albums of the year, and it’s hard to determine whether it disappointed or not. I think the only thing holding Lighter back is that This Time was such a formative album for me, (my favorite of 2018, to the uninitiated.) In fact, this album flows way better than This Time, more cohesive with its storytelling and more consistent in folk-rock sound. And, of course, Donna Missal’s vocals stun on both the bangers and the ballads. 

SURF by BLACKSTARKIDS: There was no record this year that was more instantly likeable than this one. The blend of low-fi indie pop and hip hop makes for a whirlwind of sunny fun and youthful malaise that would make the perfect soundtrack for a road trip to the beach. Standouts include the opening track “SOUNDS LIKE FUN,” the chill “WIGS,” and blissful title track “MUSIC TO SURF TO.”

The Baby by Samia: I’ve had my eye on Samia since “Milk” dropped years ago. Seeing her live sparked my belief that she was an indie darling in the making, and The Baby confirmed that she definitely was. The lyrics on this album mix quiet contemplation with just enough sardonic wit and raw emotion throughout a varied selection of sunny rock bops and gut wrenching ballads. If you enjoyed Punisher, then I can’t recommend this enough.

Season 2 by Nasty Cherry: Nasty Cherry is a group that I will not stop rooting for. Their EP from last year showed their potential for nailing monster hooks, but this sophomore effort shows just how versatile they can be. This EP covers everything from Dylan Brady produced hyperpop to early-2000s reminiscent pop rock to emotional balladry, and they pull it all off flawlessly. 

A Little Rhythm and a Wicked Feeling by Magdalena Bay: This album became a fast favorite way late in the year, there is such a sweetness to Magdalena Bay’s music that makes it stick in your brain like a piece of blue raspberry bubblegum. This EP is spacey, catchy, and filled with electronic synthpop mastery, with countless catchy hooks that’ll make you feel like drifting and dancing all at once.

Miss Anthropocene by Grimes: The bubblegum bombast of Art Angels fully redefined my taste in pop years ago, so I was fascinated to see how Grimes would follow it up. On Miss Anthropocene, she leans into darker, more industrial textures, but also anchors it back to Earth with acoustic touches and some of her most introspective lyrics to date. Grimes painted a version of a world on the brink of disaster on this album, a picture that was hypnotically beautiful. And in a year where the word was a certified disaster, that was strangely comforting.

Plastic Hearts by Miley Cyrus: I’ve been wanting Miley to go rock for so goddamn long, Plastic Hearts was bound to make this list by pure validation alone. But what can I say? This breed of glossy 80s rock suits Cyrus’s rougher voice so well! I hope she stays in this lane a bit longer, but as we know, she’s one of pop’s most chameleonic figures. Only time will tell. 

Where Does The Devil Hide by Zella Day: I have been patiently awaiting new Zella Day music ever since getting hooked on Kicker back in 2017, so this was one of my most anticipated releases of the year. This EP sounds nothing like Kicker, and I couldn’t be happier. It shows Day leaning even more into her influences from the past, (the 60s/70s vibes are intense with this one,) but also breathing a refreshing new life into them. 

SOUL LADY by Yukika: When I imagine the ideal of pop music, what it would sound like in a perfect world, this is what it sounds like. SOUL LADY is full of pristine, glossy production and catchy hooks that feel like they’ve come down from the clouds. I’ll admit that I can have trouble forming a connection with music when I don’t understand the lyrics, (it’s something I’m working on,) but this album cleared that hurdle with ease. If you’re curious about city pop or K-pop this is a great place to start. 

Heaven Is Without You by Love You Later: Give me lush pop production and heartbroken lyrics finished off with a heaping helping of nostalgia and I’ll eat it up with a spoon. Love You Later has been feeding my addiction to this genre for years, and this latest helping is particularly sweet. 

IN A DREAM by Troye Sivan: Troye Sivan has always supplied the bops, but it was about time that he started experimenting with his sound a little bit more. This EP offers some harder-hitting electronic textures, but also the addictive hooks that’ll keep you coming back for more.

Ungodly Hour by Chloe X Halle: These women are so TALENTED! If there is any word I’d use to describe this album it would be “effortless,” the harmonies, grooves, and chemistry between Chloe and Halle feels so natural and free-flowing. Charisma just rolls off of them in droves, I see full-blown stardom and several Grammys in their future.

Watching You by Robinson: This EP was one of the first on this list to arrive this year, and it still hits months later. Robinson’s confessional lyrics work wonders over the buoyant pop grooves, and “Don’t Say” remains one of the best pop songs of recent years. 

Manic by Halsey: I respect Halsey for dipping her toes into a myriad of different genres, (synth pop, rock, hip hop, and acoustic balladry,) but it does make for a jumbled listening experience. Still, I appreciate that this album features some of Halsey’s strongest tracks and writing to date, offering greater experimentation and emotional imtimacy than album’s past. 

We Don’t Stop by Aly & AJ: Should this count? It’s more a compilation of their past EP and singles... I don’t care, I’m counting it because there’s some new stuff too. This is an excellent display of Aly & AJ’s pop prowess in recent years, the hooks, vocal chemistry, and shimmery production are undeniable. 

Under My Influence by The Aces: The Aces returned in 2020 with a more laid-back, groovier record than their debut, exploring a wider variety of sounds. They’re as magnetic and likeable a group as ever, each member giving it their all, but I think I’ll return to the debut more often. 

Strangers/Lovers by Dagny: I’ve been anticipating a longer Dagny project, as she’s been drip-feeding us singles for a while now. This was a lot of fun, with Dagny pairing her upbeat earnestness with stories of romantic tribulation. While the hooks aren’t as memorable as her past offerings, there is still so much to enjoy. Lead single “Come Over” and “Let Me Cry” are my favorites.

DUALITY by Tatiana Hazel: I came across this via recommendation on Tik Tok and it’s a solid pop record! The music is swooning, synthy, and tinged with disco and Latin influence. The record doesn’t waste a second of its runtime, clocking in at less than half an hour and grooving the whole time.

After Hours by The Weeknd: The sonic palette of After Hours is so engaging, a neon-drenched blend of synthwave, electropop, and R&B. I’ve always felt lukewarm on The Weeknd’s musical persona of brooding, villainous party monster, so the strongest moments on this album tend to be when he subverts that in some way. Still, in full, this album is an undeniable force of smash hits, stadium-shaking ballads, and cinematic flair. I can’t wait for his Super Bowl performance. 

Petrol Bloom by LAUREL: It’s no secret that this year was chock-full of 80s revival albums (there’s what, five others on this list?) LAUREL wasn’t an artist I was expecting to go in that direction after the brooding folk pop of her debut album, but her deeper timbre works great alongside the synthy soundscapes. 

positions by Ariana Grande: I’ve just come to expect that nearly all of Ariana Grande’s albums are going to be growers to me. My first listen to positions was underwhelming, but the songs have grown on me more and more. This album feels like being let in on a giggly, fun slumber party with Grande and her friends. I wouldn’t call this her strongest album by far, and while I tend to prefer when she favors the more powerful parts of her range, (and her enunciations could still use some work,) there is a lot of good material here. 

THE ALBUM by BLACKPINK: We may just have to stan. I checked this out after watching their Netflix documentary, and while this breed of cacophonous, in-your-face electropop isn’t something I can listen to all the time, the hooks and charisma are undeniable. It certainly makes me feel like a bad bitch whenever I’m working out. 

Kid Krow by Conan Gray: Conan Gray burst onto my radar offering dreamy tracks rich with teen malaise and suburban restlessness, and a good amount of that initial appeal carries over onto this album. Kid Krow has both a larger instrumental scope and more stripped-back moments. In the end, it still feels like Gray is finding his voice as an artist, but he's giving up great bops to jam out to as he does.

Petals For Armor by Hayley Williams: Hayley Williams is one of my favorite vocalists, so seeing her venture out for a solo project was exciting. This album offers a mixed bag of danceable jams, emotive moments that showcase Williams’s powerful voice, and a few skips. But overall it showcases Williams’s strength as a performer as she tackles her past with vulnerability and versatility.

Apart by LÉON: Oh, man. This one was kind of disappointing. For context, LÉON’s self-titled debut was my favorite album of last year. This follow-up is by no means bad, but every song on her first album was instantly memorable. This one, not so much. LÉON’s vocals are beautiful, and there are some stand-out tracks, but I don’t see myself returning to this nearly as much. 

Blush by Maya Hawke: Maya Hawke’s Blush was to my 2020 what Tōth’s Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary was to my 2019, (and that makes sense, as they’ve collaborated in the past.) This album is so blissful and nonchalant, and Maya Hawke has a gentle, soothing voice that feels wise beyond her years. While the writing isn’t as hard-hitting as, say, the Phoebe Bridgers album, sometimes I just want to listen to something that could rock me off into a dream world. If you like folksy, down-to-earth ballads, you’ve got a solid collection of them right here. 

Dedicated Side B by Carly Rae Jepsen: Of course Queen Carly would pull through with B-sides for Dedicated, did we expect anything less? Jepsen’s brand of controlled yet carefree shimmery poptimism drenched in 80s nostalgia that never fails to put me in a good mood. This album has some lusher, more tropical instrumentation than Dedicated proper, but works great alongside it.

Missing Person by Kelsy Karter: To the Plastic Hearts fans out there, your homework now is to give this record a listen. This rock album presents pop hooks, but a lot of reckless rock fun too. Kelsy Karter has so much irresistible swagger and carefree spirit as a performer, speeding through the emotional highs and lows like she’s burning rubber in a cherry red Cadillac. 

how i’m feeling now by Charli XCX: I’ll admit, this album was a bit abrasive to me on first listen. But tracks like “anthems” and “forever” made me return, and it’s a huge grower. If you listen closely, you’ll find the sugary-sweet hooks and relatable sentiments nestled deep in the crunchy hyperpop textures, begging to be discovered and eventually loved. 

Jaguar by Victoria Monét: If you enjoyed positions, then check out the debut from one of that album’s most prominent co-writers. Jaguar’s concise collection of silky R&B slow-burners show that Victoria Monet’s is a superstar in her own right. 

Some great albums I listened to that didn’t come out this year: Blue by Joni Mitchell, BLACKPINK IN YOUR AREA by BLACKPINK, I Need to Start a Garden by Haley Heynderickx, Plastic Beach by Gorillaz, Out in the Storm by Waxahatchee, 7 by Beach House, Dummy by Portishead, Lovers Fevers by Babygirl, and Red by Taylor Swift. 

Whether you liked, reblogged, or commented on a post, sent me an ask, or interacted with this blog in any way, thank you so much for all the support throughout the year! I can’t express how much I appreciate it. 

What were your favorite albums from this year? Did I miss anything? Send me an ask and let me know. I’ll tell you my thoughts, or put it on my to-listen-to list if I haven’t heard it. 

Here’s to 2021! May it clear the extremely low bar set by this year. 

[renaissancedweeb]

Prompt #6: Agony (Self-prompt)

     Being a Yellowjacket meant protecting the people. As a former pirate, protecting others was something that she should not have been terribly concerned with. Sure, she had protected her best mates and the captain, when he was not being a giant arse, but when Merlwyb had declared an end to piracy she had needed to find a new line of work. Farming, while pretty with incentives, had held no appeal despite being something that would have gotten her hands dirty. She needed blood, sweat, and tears that all belonged to other people as she cut a swath through enemy ranks. That the enemies were mostly local fauna that took offense to people trying to make a living on land as opposed to the sea rather than rival pirates was certainly less exciting, but it was better than nothing.

     It was that civil duty that had sent her out to Lower La Noscea to investigate claims of wild aurochs having wandered to the area. The need for action, something to prove her strength against, and no small amount of personal interest had sent her running at the herd. If their path had been redirected then her duty would have been complete. That the herd had been aggressive served her well enough, however, but she had not counted on her own instincts betraying her. She knew it was what she got for agreeing to bring in a greenhorn, though, and as she shoved the young recruit aside she only had time enough to hope that no one would let her husband and son see her body before she was hit head on by a charging auroch.

     No one still living had ever accused Minerva Mauglein of being rational. She was a swing first and ask questions later kind of woman, strong and possessing a self-confidence that bordered on arrogance. She was also barely clinging to life when Solkwyb arrived to administer much needed healing, and several days later she found herself opening her eyes only to be greeted by the familiar stone surrounds of Limsa Lominsa. Her hearing came a moment later followed by her nerve endings screaming into consciousness with pain so immense she actually gasped.

     “By the Navigator, y’scared the shite right out of me!”

     Turning her head with a groan, Minerva noticed a lalafellin nurse standing on a stool. She had been in the middle of doing something but had stopped to put a hand over her heart as if to keep it from bursting out of her chest. Wetting her lips as best she could with a tree bark tongue, Minerva almost considered keeping her thought to herself.

     “Explains the smell,” she whispered dryly. Almost.

     She ignored the look of reproach she had earned in favor of scanning the rest of the room. It was a standard issue medical facility, with its hard bed, stiff sheets, and rows upon rows of bottles filled with all sorts of potions and nix tongues. There also was a whiff of something foul in the air but coming from a pirate background told her that it was only the stench of a body gone unwashed for too long. That would have explained the basin and sponge on the table the nurse was standing at; it was bath day.

     “How long?” she asked, voice still nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

     “Almost a fortnight, altogether. Been only a week here. You had to be stabilized before you could move. You’re lucky to be awake at all, honestly. I’ve seen smaller scrapes do a man in that what got you.”

     “Good thing ‘m not a man.”

     The exasperated sigh that met her response was clearly meant to cover a laugh. Letting it lie--it was too hard to breathe to carry on a conversation--she instead focused what energy she had on feeling herself out. Her hands were working, fingers wiggling as much as she dared to let them while her elbows crooked ever so slightly. There was less fire in her arms and shoulders which was a good sign save for the inferno that flared in her chest; freshly knit ribs and collarbone then. Her left leg seemed to be in decent order as well, sluggish only from lack of use, but as she attempted to move her right foot she noticed something was off.

      “...What-?”

     “Oh, well would you look at this,” the nurse interjected, now at her bedside and firmly grasping the sheet that was covering her in one hand while the other waved frantically behind her.

     Were she her usual self it would be nothing to rip the cloth from the other woman’s grip. Diminished as she was, Minerva knew there was no way she would be able to see what was under there, what the nurse was hiding. What she did see, however, was something much more pleasant as she spied eyes the color of storm clouds. New lines had formed around them and they had begun to sink into a nest of dark circles, but they still belonged to her husband. In his arms was another familiar sight, a pair of wide yellow eyes that shimmered in the sunlight pouring in from the window and framed by wild, dark hair that had a pair of large, dark ears poking from the top.

     “‘Allo, loves,” she whispered.

     “Ma! Mumma!”

     The fire in her chest turned to ice as little Artevael reached out for her from his father’s arms only to be gently shushed and pulled tighter to his chest. She wanted so badly to take him, to tell him everything was fine, but she and Devereux were doing their best to teach him not to lie so how could she tell one so blatant? Especially when she did not even know the full extent of her injuries.

     “It’s alright, sweetling,” Devi cooed. “Mumma’s awake, but she’s still hurt. We have to be gentle, alright? Can you be gentle with your ma?”

     A tiny smile crept onto her face when her boy nodded even as her husband’s words echoed in her head as something surreal. Gentle? Minerva Mauglein? The woman who carried unprocessed logs as exercise? Who had wench toted her not-then-husband from the tavern because no one would let her fight the barmaid? Minerva Mauglein, who had often been described as a bladed whirlwind in the heat of battle? That hurt almost as much as not being able to hold her little boy.

     “‘M glad you’re awake, Ma,” Artevael whispered as he stood next to her bed. Apparently gentle also meant a soft voice and that made her smile again. “They said...they said you was gonna sleep a long time.”

     “Ah, sleepin’ too much is boring,” she said only to have a cough follow her words and contort her expression into one of pure pain.

     “Mumma?!”

     Before Devereux could reach for him, she moved her hand from beneath the now loosened covers to take Art’s little hand. Tiny fingers rubbed at the weapon calluses--once an action of awe at his mother’s strength and now one of reminder of it--before he gripped her as tight as he dared. Her baby boy was so strong, the same way Devereux was, and she was so proud.

     It was that quiet strength that had drawn her to her husband in the first place, and the first thing she pointed out when people asked why someone like her would go after a displaced elezen man over the rough-and-tumble types found all over Limsa Lominsa. After that, folk had questioned the adoption of a baby miqo’te when her ears were round and his were pointed just not on top of his head. Those questions were met with a fist and curses that made even the most seasoned sailors turn crimson. That was why she had been glad to see Artevael taking more after his father. She was proud of her strength and unapologetic of her past, but hers was not a life she wished for her son. That both he and Devereux loved her regardless was a boon she knew she did not deserve and why she held tight to it. It was also that love that she knew she would need in the coming days.

     “So, since little miss is gone,” she breathed as she looked up at her husband, “you tell me what’s wrong with me.”

     “Other than you being entirely too reckless and taking no less than five years off my life?” he asked and he grinned when she rolled her eyes. She woke in good spirits. He did not know how long she would keep them.

     “Don’t give me that look, Devi. Just spit it out.”

      Even little Artevael looked uncomfortable, his ears sticking out flat to the sides. Obviously the news was bad, but whatever it was she had at least woken up. There were probably at least three people back at command who were cursing their luck at losing the pot. She could probably name them, too, and she would see to them later.

     “Broken ribs, shattered collarbone, broken arms and legs, a concussion; if it’s a bone it was probably broken, except our hands. Somehow your hands were unscathed save for cuts. Someone was watching out for you there,” he said. He then ran a hand through his hair, clearly nervous and wanting to stall, but he knew it was useless. “About your leg, you-it...there was no salvaging it, Minnie. They had to take it off or infection would set in and kill you sure as that auroch almost did. ...I’m sorry.”

     His words reached her ears, but they did not fully process at first. It was not that she could deny something was wrong, and considering the nature of the rest of her injuries compared to what she had seen with others amputation was not necessarily out of the realm of possibility. The thing was, it could not have happened to her. She could not have had it happen to her. How would she still be a Yellowjacket without two legs to stand on, to move her forward, to keep her balanced as she swung her axe in the name of safety and State mandated bloodshed? The answer was, she would not be. At least, not in the capacity she had been serving.

     “Huh,” she finally said as she turned her gaze away from her husband and to the ceiling. The ceiling could not look at her with sympathy and sadness; Devereux knew better than to pity her. “Guess this is it for ol’ Mean Min.”

     “Minnie…”

     With more gentleness than anyone but her family would have thought her capable of, Minerva removed her hand from her son’s grasp before moving it to stroke his hair. He was crying now, and she could not even muster up the strength to tell him that there was no need. It would also be rude to get him to stop when she felt like it herself.

     “I’m glad y’stopped by,” she rasped, her voice betraying the tears that were threatening to fall. “I know I said sleep was boring, but I’m thinkin’ I hear it callin’ again. Isn’t that was the physicks say? Sleep cures all? Or s’it alcohol?”

     Devi knew the joke for the shoddy mask it was, but he was kind enough to offer a smile before he scooped their son back into his arms.

     “You rest up, love,” he said softly. “We’ll come see you again soon.”

     “I love you, Mumma.”

      Unable to summon a reply for fear of loosing the sobs that tore at her throat, she instead blew them both a kiss, stilted and painful as her movements were. It was only when they left that she let the tears fall. The Captain did always say that her life would end in blood and ruin, but even he likely never thought it would come as it had. Still, it was not the loss of limb, and life as she knew it, that hurt most. It was the silence, the waiting for the other shoe to drop that never would because some auroch had run off with it. It was being thankful to be alive while at the same time thinking it might have been better that she had died. For the first time in her life, Minerva was powerless and that was a pain worse than what she felt in the limb she no longer had.

[themediabulletin]

How to turn the Data Centre into a Valuable Asset ?

Lest we forget what is data centre, all about?

Before we delve into optimizing data centres enhancing its performance and overall capabilities thus turning it into a valuable asset, we need to take a step back and understand the need to do so. No longer just four walls, housing a centralized networking, servers, storage equipment’s and all the paraphernalia (Back-up power, Security systems etc.), frequented by IT personnel. It has evolved into a well-oiled revenue generating mechanism and the backbone of organizations that have realized it to be.

A place where data can be centrally managed, reliably gathered, preserved and protected so that it can be used for operations, planning or analysis. It would supplement the efforts of other parts of the businesses thus positioning it to better balance the trade-off between capital and operational expenses to further business initiatives.

The triggers behind this data explosion

The tectonic shift in data generation, as detailed in the study conducted by IBM in 2017 mentioning that 90% of all data existing then had been created within a span of 2 years.

This surge in data generation, this furious exponential growth over time: 2010 – 2.5 billion, 2014 – 3 billion, and last year 4.1 billion and counting internet users, has mandated a more pragmatic outlook of how businesses view their existing data centres and that warranted changes in data centre architecture for captive or movement to cloud based ones for some.

April 3rd 1973, Martin Cooper would have never imagined that his first wireless call would create a revolution and change the entire face of communication, 3.2 billion in 2019 to 3.8 billion in 2021 that’s Statista estimate of smartphone users growth, Imagine the amount of data generated, not factoring in data created by notebooks, notepads and other devices.

If we go by the various studies and sources, by 2025, IOT connected devices grow to 41.6 billion and will be directly responsible for generating 79.4 zettabytes of data.

Add to that, socializing in the digital age- Facebook, twitter, other social media platforms, 90.4% of Millennials, 77.5% of Generation X, and 48.2% of Baby Boomers are active social media users (Emarketer, 2019)

With data becoming the common denominator, captured, used and processed creating a value for governments, industries and individual lives whereas the market continues to mature and with IOT becoming the fabric facilitating seemingly unhindered exchange of information; things to people to processes, networking the nearest to the farthest edges of communication channels.

The contribution from the users in terms of UGC (User Generated Content), changes the dynamics of analytics, forecasting and interpretation of current trends and that has added a new dimension to the way data is perceived and a holistic approach to data centre and its meaning.

Data as a resource

For a few years now, the data value and the recognition of it as a valuable resource by business leaders typically depends on its potential impact and analysis. Descriptive, Diagnostic, Predictive and Prescriptive analysis makes it imperative for businesses to treat it as a strategic asset giving them the competitive edge.

The challenge however for organizations, big or small, is to strike the perfect symphony between efficiency and reliability. It’s the lifeblood of the company providing them with location based advertising, consumer sentiment analysis, predictions for fraud and risk which was earlier not available or associated with traditional analysis or ad-hoc reporting.

Few pointers as listed below as guidelines that one can take as an approach to make the Data Centre more efficient and a pragmatic look at data centre meaning.

1. A nuanced look into existing data centre infrastructure

Breaking away from the conventional power architectures can be expensive, time-consuming and would require infrastructural upgrades. At the onset of your big data project, ensuring that we have the capability to manage effective time bound shift towards optimizing our existing setup, be it about transactional application servers, specialist appliances for applications such as business intelligence, or the supercomputers used for digital simulation. Servers that are being built currently are more efficient with low power consumption and have a better humidity and cooling systems.

Moving to smarter power management systems, being able to utilize and optimize the processing power at one’s disposal. Peak shaving and Dynamic redundancy are certain techniques in use by companies to bring in big data implementation.

All said and done, we need to ensure their total reliability, as the systems are business critical and also keeping in mind the economic and environmental weight associated, and if able to provide optimal efficient energy utilization.

2.

Coping with Storage

The successful transition to fully optimized data centre cannot be achieved with legacy infrastructures that is not able to cope up with current business expectations and demands. Speed is the need of the hour to give one the competitive edge over others, another facet to it is the continuous process of automation reducing dependency on humans, minimizing errors and critical data loss.

A robust storage infrastructure aligned with business needs that is scalable and easy to access, not resulting in unexpected downtime and maintenance costs have businesses looking towards various storage solutions that would suit their needs.

Solutions to go for could be as SDS (Software-Defined Storage) that assists in maintaining physical data on industry servers, All-Flash and Hybrid Storage, if consolidation of workloads or if the need is for easy application deployment, HCI (Hyper converged Infrastructure) that brings everything under one umbrella be it virtualization, storage, networking etc. all depends on the need as identified by the businesses.

3. Making data insightful & conversational

This can be achieved by moving away gradually from transactional data towards machine learning algorithms, robotics, linguistics creating unique customer experience. The lure is there to quick lift and shift migration to the cloud but a rushed approach would bring a whirlwind of challenges, moving bad processes to cloud is a waste of time, money, it would be easier if companies study the current landscape and work on a strategic plan.

Built in analytics and business intelligence allows to extract value, provides an environment to conduct advanced analytics, the data centre mission and structure is different now as it assumes a new role of an enabling technology helping one take all that is to offer in the world of big data, in a way redefining data centre architecture.

Imagine analytics enhanced with the incorporation of external streams of unstructured data and the social media guiding with customer sentiment and competitive intelligent insights.

4. Security is now even more critical and of paramount importance.

According to IDC, “60% of chief information officers will refocus infrastructure cybersecurity around authentication and trust to manage business risks, initiating the retirement of systems that cannot ensure data protection.”

The journey towards more dynamic and modern data centre, with intended outcomes and defined to be a reliable and strong security program, putting in security policies, implementation of technologies that supports security programs, to prevent insider threats, data encryption and back up in case of breaches etc. goals in accordance with company’s objectives, the focus should also all the counter measures against data theft and manipulation as no one can turn a blind eye to the rising menace of cybercrime.

A systematic security plan and protocols should be in place to successfully manage the ever growing database. Investing in periodical assessment, as need be, is not a bad idea.

Just Can’t conclude…

It’s difficult to come to a conclusion on a topic so varied with new areas and horizons opening up every day in tune with new opportunities, challenges. Who would have thought a decade back that data would be a science?

But everything boils down to how businesses measure, the meticulous planning needed before the move, methodology to be implemented for the transition and then of course coping up with the change, in this transformational journey of converting their traditional data centre into robust business intelligence revenue generating unit. An asset.

The above mentioned may seem to be more centric towards companies having the resources to invest in converting their data centres into a powerful tool, but I haven’t forgotten about the ones that are looking for colocation providers however that’s a subject for another bit to be featured soon.

[randomactuallywrites-57]

Child of Nature

Title: Child of Nature Author: randomwriter57 Rating: G Word Count: 3,783 Event + Prompt: @reigisaweek day three: Seasons Pairings: reigisa Summary: “Tell me,” Nagisa says, leaning forward over his crossed legs. “What’s your favourite season?”

Notes: Hi guys! I love reading magical realism stories - something about them always feels so beautiful, especially in the way that the author depicts it. When I got the inspiration for this fic, I wanted to experiment, and to depict the passing seasons in a way which I have never tried to before. Hence, I decided to incorporate magical realism into this. I hope it comes across well. Enjoy!

Also on: AO3

All is silent in the garden of the new Ryugazaki residence, save for the distant beat of music and the inaudible whispers of the trees. The only human inhabitant stands not far from these trees, which stretch infinitely beyond his vision. He does not pay them attention, though; Rei’s vision points towards the large house about at the other end of the garden.

The house is lit up for the occasion, every window bright, providing an insight into the activities within. People dance past the glass, or stand by it with a drink, chattering away. Their warm atmosphere feels a million miles from the cold winter air surrounding Rei, but he does not care. In fact, he much prefers the quiet company of the trees. At least he doesn’t have to make small talk with them.

Not for the first time, he wishes he had brought a book with him - perhaps the physics book he’s been reading from recently. Reading through such theories not only would prepare him for the upcoming end-of-year exams at his new middle school, but it would also be a damn sight more interesting than being left to his own thoughts.

If only books could speak. Then he wouldn’t need human companions at all.

He lets out a long breath, which rises in a curl of white into the air, joining the stars above. Soon, those stars will be covered by bursts of light and clouds of smoke, left behind from the explosions. Now he thinks about it, it shouldn’t be long until the countdown. Perhaps he should go back inside to join his parents.

Or he could stay outside, alone.

What a way to start a new year.

A voice calls out to him then, one far too warm to belong to the winter breeze, filled with the colours of fairy lights and mulled wine and holly leaves.

“What’s wrong?” the stranger asks.

He turns towards the forest and finds a blond boy standing not too far from him, within the line of trees. The boy looks about his age, perhaps a little younger, with chubby cheeks and a curious spark in his eyes. Judging by his clothes - a dress shirt and trousers, no jacket - he should also be a guest at the party. How he got into the forest without Rei noticing is a mystery.

When he doesn’t answer, the boy’s head tilts slightly. “Aren’t you cold out here?”

Subconsciously, Rei’s arms come to rest over his chest, his hands gripping his forearms. “Who are you?”

The boy smiles but does not answer. “You should go inside, or you’ll miss the celebrations.”

“Aren’t you going inside, then?” Rei says in return. “You’ll miss them too.”

After a moment’s hesitation, the boy laughs, his voice a bell peal through the sky. The atmosphere around them warms a little, and the trees sing along with him.

“I guess that’s true,” the boy says, burgundy eyes bright with mirth. “What’s your name?”

“Ryugazaki Rei,” says the blue-haired boy, letting his hands come to rest at his sides again.

The boy hums and takes a single step forward, so they’re only a few feet apart. Then he diverts his gaze to the sky, and Rei’s follows it.

Slowly, a single snowflake descends, swaying in the sky until it lands in a kiss on Rei’s lips.

“Happy New Year, Rei-chan.”

Pulling away from him, the boy disappears into the forest. At the same time, a firework lights up the night, the colour red spreading across the navy sky.

Rei blinks a few times, then makes to follow the boy, for what reason he isn’t entirely sure, all he knows is that something is pulling him into the forest, towards that stranger-

Then the door of the house opens behind him.

“Rei, come inside! You just missed the countdown!”

By the time he looks back to the forest, the boy is long gone, and only smoky residue and silence remains.

By the time a few years pass, he has forgotten most everything of that New Year’s night. All that remains clear is the odd warmth of that snowflake and the vibrance of that boy’s eyes against the winter scenery.

In spring, the forest is anything but silent. With birds flying, insects chirping and the trees continuing their ever-present whispering, there is no way the forest could be anything but full of life.

That, however, is natural, when it comes to springtime. Each year when he comes here, he feels the vibrance and energy which fills the forest, making it feel fresh with each breath. Even when the pressure of each passing school year comes upon him, the forest calms his nerves and reminds him to breathe, for a little while.

One day, as he passes through the forest, he feels a certain familiar atmosphere which he cannot place, one which leads him into the deepest part of the forest. The clearing is large and surrounded by trees and foliage, leaving a clear divide between the darker pathways and the sun-filled centre. Within the clearing, bathed in morning gold, is a boy with hair of wheat-gold and eyes of sunburst pink. Save for the loss of baby fat and the change of clothes to a more spring-appropriate outfit of a light, white sweatshirt and green shorts, he looks almost exactly as Rei remembers him.

He meets Rei’s eyes. The smile which follows lights up the entire clearing, filling it with even more energy.

“Hi, Rei-chan,” he says. His voice is deeper now, but still holds that childlike cadence from so long ago. “It’s been a while.”

Rei only now returns to his senses, relaxing the hand which somehow wound its way onto the chest of his shirt. So many questions fill his mind, ones he needs answered in order to understand this situation, to allow himself peace of mind.

And yet, all he can bring himself to say is a shaky, “Hello.”

“Come over here,” the boy says, waving him over into the clearing.

Without thinking, Rei does so, moving slowly into the grassy area and settling at the boy’s side, a metre or two away to be polite.

The boy shifts closer, his bright eyes unwavering. “I’m surprised it took you so long to find this place. Who lives in a house for four years before exploring their back garden?”

Rei’s hands clench on his knees, hot against the fabric of his trousers. “I think the real question is what are you doing here? Do you live nearby?”

In that same infuriating fashion as he did so long ago, the boy hums. His left hand brushes the grass at his side, weaving through each blade. “Maybe I was waiting for you.”

The boy lifts his left hand and holds it towards Rei. On his palm sits a single daisy, with pure white petals which should be distinguishable in the grassy clearing, though Rei cannot see any others nearby. When Rei does not take the flower, the boy presses his hand closer to him until Rei is forced to pick it up, his fingers brushing against the soft pad of his hand as he does.

“How long have you been here?”

Once more, the boy does not answer. He only smiles, though his eyes hold a hint of sadness.

Rei sighs deeply. At this rate, he’ll get no answers. “Do you have a name, at least?”

This time, the boy perks up. “Oh, that’s right, I never introduced myself! You can call me Nagisa.”

The lack of a surname surprises him, though he supposes he shouldn’t be so shocked, considering this boy has been calling him by his forename from the beginning. Somehow he can already tell that formality isn’t something this boy is worried about.

“Alright, Nagisa-kun.” Rei twirls the daisy between his fingers, which tingle lightly. “Why won’t you answer my questions?”

Nagisa hums again, his brows furrowing in thought. He puts his hands on his knees and taps them lightly, then shrugs. “I guess it’s a secret!”

“What’s a secret?”

“Everything!”

As much as he’s interested in this boy, Rei can’t deny that the lack of clarity about his name and origins is a tad infuriating. Still, there’s not much he can do if Nagisa simply refuses to answer. For once, he decides to abstain the matter, at least for a while.

“Tell me,” Nagisa says, leaning forward over his crossed legs. “What’s your favourite season?”

With four years of living in a small town, one might think Rei has a good enough experience of the seasons to pick a favourite, but now he thinks about it, choosing is more difficult than he’d realised. It’s not so much because he likes them all equally, but more that he doesn’t think enough about the seasons themselves to warrant having a favourite.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I’ve never thought about it.”

Nagisa’s face falls for a moment before he manages to capture it in a beam once more. “Well I’ll help you choose! The seasons are great, Rei-chan, you’ll see!”

As if to prove it, he stands and moves a few feet away, waving a hand through the air. Following his movement, the golden flecks of dust in the air swirl around them, creating the illusion of a whirlwind of colour. Once Nagisa stops spinning, the flecks slow in their motions until they drift aimlessly once more, illuminated only by the golden sun. Still, even without the motion, Rei finds himself dizzied by the beauty of this moment. Seeing Nagisa standing before him, aglow with the fresh spring morning, it feels almost like magic.

With each passing season, he continues to meet Nagisa in the clearing. It becomes their rendezvous point, where Nagisa presents him each time with a new thing to love about each season. Sometimes it is as small as a quip about the flowers blooming or the wildlife around them. At other times, he blows Rei away with displays akin to his one from springtime, each more unbelievable than the last.

With each meeting, Rei falls for him more and more.

Until finally, summer arrives.

On the hottest day of the year, the sun beats heavy on their faces as they lie down in the clearing. The grass is cool against their skin, soaking slightly through their shorts and t-shirts, just enough to relieve the heat a little. Nagisa, for his part, is in his element, soaking up the warmth as if he’s been deprived of heat for years.

“Hey, Rei-chan,” he says as the sun reaches its peak for the day. There are likely only precious hours left before they ought to separate, not that either wishes to do so. “Look.”

Rei tilts his head to watch Nagisa, trying to focus on the hand he lifts into the air rather than the slope of his nose and how his lips purse in concentration.

Nagisa holds his hand over a single wispy cloud, wriggling his fingers a couple of times before slowly moving his hand over the blue. The wisp of cloud follows his fingertips, moving as if attached to invisible strings, until he manages to wipe it out of sight completely.

“A cloudless day,” Rei whispers in awe, his gaze falling from Nagisa’s fingertips to the accomplished grin on his face. “That’s amazing, Nagisa-kun.”

The blond looks over to him, eyes bright in the summer sun. “It’s just a small trick, but thanks!”

Shaking his head, Rei sits up, leaning on one hand to face Nagisa. “No, I mean it. You’re able to do so many incredible things. The fact that you would show them to me is an honour, really.”

Nagisa takes Rei’s free hand in his own, letting his thumbs gently stroke his knuckles. “If I’m gonna show anyone, of course I’m gonna show you, Rei-chan. I can’t think of anyone better to show this stuff to. Everyone else just calls these things dumb or lame, or party tricks at best. But you always have something nice to say about them.”

For a moment, Rei’s mouth falls open at this new information. He doesn’t dare pry further, though - he knows how averse Nagisa is to giving such personal information. Instead he lets a smile cross his lips and his hand relaxes in Nagisa’s. “You work so hard to learn how to do these things, just to show me. If that doesn’t make you amazing, then those people don’t know what they’re saying.”

During their conversation, he notices that he’s been leaning closer with each word. He’s almost leaning over Nagisa at this point, with his knees pressed against the smaller boy’s side. He can see the light freckles on the bridge of Nagisa’s nose, the way his throat constricts for a moment as Rei speaks.

“You think so?” Nagisa breathes, eyes wide and more vibrant than any summer blossom.

“I know so,” Rei murmurs, feeling himself leaning in. “You’re amazing, Nagisa-kun.”

Their lips meet for the first time in a burst of heat, soft and pliant and moving in harmony together, or as much as they can with their inexperience. Nagisa lifts a hand away from the one he holds to cup Rei’s face, bringing him closer to him. He tastes of strawberry ice cream and the sea.

When Rei pulls away for breath, he lingers close by, enraptured by the pink of Nagisa’s lips and the warmth of his breath, his golden locks haloed by vibrant flowers of every colour, some of which Rei has never even seen before in his encyclopedias. He doesn’t get the time to question them, though, not when Nagisa pulls him back in and he is once more lost in summer sweetness.

Above them, the trees bow their branches, sheltering the clearing to give them privacy in this moment.

Their romance blossoms in summer and blooms in the seasons which follow, its warmth still burning even as the temperature drops and rises once more. Summer feels eternal, the infectious effervescence a source of energy which makes each moment feel alive. For once, Rei lets himself forget the questions which still plague him about who exactly Nagisa is, and he focuses on the moments before him and the sensations which he has the pleasure of experiencing.

Of course, each season must come to a close, and the heat of their relationship eventually burns down to a comforting simmer. The leaves begin to darken, vibrant shades of orange overtaking the slowly darkening skies, leaving the grass beneath their feet to die along with them. The animals who live near the clearing begin their preparations for the colder months, gathering food and warmth and shelter.

Similarly, Rei and Nagisa switch to heavier clothing and take refuge in each other’s warmth, knowing that the cold will only grow as the months wear on. Rei also begins visiting the clearing less and less, though not out of a lack of longing. He and Nagisa know well that he has exam preparation to be worrying about, especially considering that he’ll soon be applying for universities.

Still, he makes the most of each visit, as short as they are. He spends what little time he has listening to Nagisa with earnest ears, telling him about his everyday life and hoping for even a glimpse more information from the boy. At the same time, Nagisa continues to show Rei even more beautiful sights. In autumn, he has the leaves dance above their heads to the soft song of the trees. Plucking one still-green leaf from the air, he breathes it into a beautiful shade of red, letting it join the fiery group around them.

Sometimes they explore. Hiking through the forest allows them to meet all new types of wildlife. At one point, they even rescue a hedgehog from falling into a small river past the boundary of the forest which Rei has previously traversed.

Between these hikes, they simply relax at each other’s side, indulging in this time spent together. Rei has become particularly fond of Nagisa’s smile, especially when he feels it against his own. When they sit together in silence, too, the atmosphere is calm and warm, like the comfort of a duvet first thing on a cold morning, when you don’t want to roll out of bed to face the day.

Rei would happily face any day, knowing he’ll see Nagisa in the course of it, though.

But distance makes him consider more options than before. Now that he’s faced with a choice of future, he wonders how things will impact his relationship with Nagisa. He can’t allow himself to compromise his morals by attending a local, but sub-par college, but the idea of being miles away from this boy he’s come to love is more painful even than the sting of nettles or the crunch of pine cones.

As such, he tries for a compromise.

“Nagisa-kun,” he asks.

Against his shoulder, he feels Nagisa’s head move so their eyes meet. The tree against their backs makes a surprisingly comfortable back-rest as they look on to the clearing, which lacks its usual glow thanks to the cloudy weather.

“Yeah, Rei-chan?” Nagisa’s voice is a little muffled by Rei’s shoulder, but the response is clear enough.

“You live nearby, right?”

For a moment, Nagisa hesitates before moving his head in a nod. “Why?”

It takes Rei a moment to voice the question. “Would you ever want to leave?”

Nagisa moves away from Rei’s shoulder, sitting upright to face him directly. His furrowed eyebrows lie low over eyes filled with concern and, possibly, fear. “Why are you asking this, Rei-chan?”

“I was simply curious,” Rei says, though the lie sounds fake even to him. When Nagisa gives him a doubtful expression, he sighs and amends his response. “I may have to move away from here to a city soon, for university.”

“Oh.” Nagisa’s face falls, his shoulders dropping along with it. “You’re leaving?”

“Not forever! But possibly for a while. I need to continue my studies-”

“I understand.” Nagisa turns his face away, hiding his expression behind his messy fringe. “It’s fine, Rei-chan. Your future is important.”

Rei hesitates in reaching his hand over to Nagisa’s, letting it hover just over the smaller hand which fiddles with its owner’s shoelaces. “The thing is, you’re important to me too. I don’t want to leave you behind.”

When Nagisa looks up, it is with a painfully false smile. “Don’t worry about me, Rei-chan! I’ll still be here. I can wait for you.”

“But I don’t want you to have to wait,” Rei says, finally letting his hand touch Nagisa’s. The boy he loves flinches under his touch, and he immediately pulls away.

“I’m sorry, Rei-chan.” Nagisa’s expression becomes more pained, though his smile remains. “I can’t leave this forest. But I’ll wait for you, no matter how long it takes. No matter how many seasons pass, I’ll still be here. So come back, okay?”

Rei’s hand clenches into a ball. Still, he nods, pressing his lips together. “I promise I’ll come back.”

Nagisa relaxes, letting out a humourless laugh before leaning back into Rei, his hair tickling against Rei’s collarbone. As Rei rests his own head on top of Nagisa’s, he finds himself smiling, seeing a few fallen leaves returning to the tree above them.

He’ll miss this warmth, but at least he’ll always have it to return to.

Autumn’s cold separation drags on for far longer than Rei anticipates. With each semester, he finds himself too buried in work to consider returning to the forest in that tiny town, to the boy who lives within it. As much as he enjoys his studies, the seasons are all too grey and bleak without that sunshine smile.

All is silent in the garden of the Ryugazaki residence, save for the soft pad of footsteps as he crosses the grass, moving towards the line of trees at the base of the garden. Behind him, music beats on, lights flashing. Rei ignores them.

Instead, he moves through the forest in a route he knows well but has not traversed in far too long. The trees welcome him with quiet greetings, and he finds no fallen branches in his way as he heads towards the centre of the forest - only a thin layer of snow.

The cold air bites at his bare face, making his glasses steam up whenever he breathes too close to the scarf around his neck. In his pockets, his hands tremble. He feels too warm.

Once he reaches that familiar clearing, his heart sinks, seeing no one awaiting him in the moonlit meadow. The snow sparkles in the light, pure and untouched, with no sign of anyone having been here at all. The stuttered breath of disappointment he releases curls into the air in a cloud of white.

Once more he is outside, alone.

What a way to start a new year.

Suddenly, a voice calls out to him, too warm for winter, bright like fairy lights with the smooth heat of mulled wine.

“Rei-chan!”

Turning around, he finds the boy he loves standing a few feet away, dressed in winter layers, flushed pink from the cold. His eyes glisten, rivalling the brightness of his smile.

“You came back,” Nagisa says.

“Of course I did,” Rei says, feeling himself melt at the sight of Nagisa in front of him, after so long. “I promised, didn’t I?”

Nagisa takes a deep breath in, then leaps forward into Rei’s arms. The two spin out into the clearing, somehow managing not to fall in the snow, if only because Rei tries his best to keep them upright. He finds himself smiling fondly down at Nagisa, wrapping his arms around him and remembering how being home feels.

Above them, the sky opens to a flurry of snowflakes, drifting down toward them, swirling around their embrace. Each one feels oddly warm, like a kiss.

When Nagisa looks up at him with eyes full of love, Rei cannot help but return the favour.

The sound of fireworks does not deter them from their reunion, burning in the night sky above a kiss which lingers far longer. By the time they eventually part, all that is left in the sky is smoky residue.

But Nagisa is still here, beaming at him.

“Happy New Year, Rei-chan.”

Rei rests his forehead against Nagisa’s and smiles with all his heart.

“Happy New Year, Nagisa-kun.”

This year too, he hopes they can see the seasons together, connected through every one.