#found this little friend on the cycle path today
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I'm here to make a friends and some fun here 😄😁🥰
I'm here to spread the Good Newts
#answers by Mark#found this little friend on the cycle path today#showed it to my son#he was *delighted*#newt#anon#I am guessing this was supposed to be spam#but here we are#interesting that there is so much more spam in tumblr's messenger than in asks#I get random Hi messages about four times a day#I am guessing 99% of these are fake#but if you are genuinely trying to reach me and you just say hi and leave it at that#the conversation is getting deleted#so be more human#this has been another tag rambl#as it was intended
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YOUR? OUR MARGARET
PAIRING: Leon Kennedy x Single mom!reader
SUMMARY: Life slowed down when Leon first saw those tiny rays of sunlight. But he didn't think he would fall in love with the whole sun. Or: Leon falls in love with a single mother.
WARNINGS: Brief mentions of alcohol, government, leon's traumas, love confessions, Leon is a bit insecure and awkward but he's also a sweetheart and has a soft spot for kids, cheesy and corny type of love, this is just fluff believe me!
WORD COUNT: 4.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: If I had a nickel for every time I've written about Leon's transition from vendetta to death island I would have two which it isn't a lot but it's funny it happened twice. If you wish to know what song Leon played this is the one I had in mind. As always, I hope you like it. This is my Valentine's Day fic for today!
MY MASTERLIST
Gruesome scenarios and depressive states of mind have tainted Leon's path in life. However, the grizzled and gloomy agent has had a rather rough patch this last year in which he was left alone to die in his own sorrow—Raccoon City, Spain, China and his already-known addiction took a toll on him.
He doesn't have anyone to blame, nor does he want to. Yeah, he could blame the government for stripping him of his innocence and his genuine wish to help people but he felt like he had failed his nation, not the DSO, not the FBI, just him.
Behind closed doors, in the white house and for everyone else he's Agent Leon Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy, and if someone were to ask the president he'd say he's the most trusted weapon the country has.
He has grown accustomed. His shield has hardened to the point he's numb to most things he should find disturbing or annoying yet he couldn’t help but wish someone would see him the way he really is.
A bittersweet feeling grew in Leon’s system. Alcohol no longer brought the same dull sensation that’d put him to sleep even in the loudest and sleazy bar. So, slowly he grew out of his addiction. Not alone, though. Alongside him were a couple of therapists which he reluctantly confided in. Not because he didn’t believe in mental health, but because he thought it wasn’t for him.
Also, his friends made his life a bit better. Spare the man the embarrassment, but friendship does indeed make you see the world more colorfully. It was nice hearing his name slip out of his friends' lips. Leon, Leon! Aww, Leon.
However, life didn’t prepare him for the moment his name was replaced by a:
Dada.
Therapists had told him he should look for a hobby, something that’d fill those moments where boredom or monotony would push him to fall back into his deadly addictions. And he completely understood, he ought to follow the experts’ advice in order to actually improve.
It was rather easier, he was not a complicated man.
Even before the Raccoon City incident, he loved exercising. Whether it was lifting weights, cycling, or plain running he’d always be found doing something. The mere thought of just lying in bed was something he’d never engage in, especially not now that he’s getting better.
So, he combined two things. One he was familiar with and a second one he hasn’t been able to really connect with: nature.
Near his current apartment, there was a small park in which he goes jogging. Usually, his schedule would only allow him to go there in the early hours of the morning where the only people he’d find were retired grandparents who danced to some Spanish music he couldn’t understand.
Peaceful, he liked it.
But when he was getting used to his daily morning jogging, a call from work told him they needed him ASAP. So, his little detoxicating activity would be postponed to the afternoon.
After dealing with the usual stress from work, calls from Hunnigan, and a rather bothersome headache, he got to his apartment and decided to get ready and not skip his so-needed jogging.
The afternoon sky was painted with a hue of blue mixing with the slightest orange color, the gentle breeze hitting Leon’s face as he jogged around the park. His tempo never missed a beat not even after an hour or so between his physical training and some pauses. Sweat fell from his forehead and onto the ground with each step he took, meaning that he was reaching exhaustion.
At last, he found solace under a tree that cast a shadow, perfect for Leon to catch his breath. Closing his eyes, he let his lungs inhale as much air as they could.
His peaceful moment was broken when a tiny voice called out for him. Or rather, mistaken him for someone else.
“Dada!” A little girl came walking to where he was seated, wobbly steps trying to reach him.
“Margaret!” You appeared out of nowhere before the toddler could reach and hug the stranger. The giggling and excited kid seemed to have heard “run faster” by the way she didn’t stop at your call.
A hint of confusion washed over Leon as he watched the scene develop with rather curious eyes. A mop of curly hair running away from your grasp. The white dress turned into a slightly brown color, Leon guessed the child must have been playing in the dirt.
And then a glimpse of a faint smile replaced his previous bewilderment as his eyes fell on you. As you tried catching your daughter, he observed her antics and your patience.
Finally, your hands lifted the little one as her tiny legs kicked in the air, ready to run in the air.
You fixed Margaret’s dress and messy hair while her bright eyes continued being focused on the man sitting on the grass. Her hands doing the typical “grabby” motion to Leon. Sighing in defeat, you spoke to the man.
“Sorry, don’t know what happened.” You sheepishly said as you offered the man an apology for your daughter’s previous mischievous actions. “She usually doesn’t call random people dada I assure you.”
“She gave me quite the scare.” Leon chuckled as he got up from the grass. “My past actions flashed before my eyes.”
“As I said, I’m sorry.” You repeated your words while your daughter tried wriggling her way out of your arms. When she saw that her mother’s grip wasn’t budging, she took matters into her own hands.
She started crying.
You weren’t letting your daughter play with a stranger, that much you knew.
“My name’s Leon, by the way.” Leon said, extending his arm, but he pulled back as soon as he saw that you were too busy handling the tantrum your daughter was having.
You told Leon your name which easily fell from his lips to confirm he heard you well. “Do you normally come here?” You asked.
“Yes, but just in the mornings.” He responded, watching the little one pouting. “Something came out today so duty called. Cops don’t rest.”
“Wait, Are you a cop?” You seemed to relax at the revelation and he couldn’t help but get a Deja Vu from this little interaction. A friend of his asked him the same question, but at least now he wasn’t surrounded by zombies.
“A cop…” A whisper came out from Leon’s lips, a playful yet gentle smile formed on his face. “Kinda.”
“I’ll assume you’re way more important than that.” You adjusted Margaret in your arms when she finally calmed. Although she kept on staring at Leon, her bright eyes focused on him. “Because if you were indeed a cop or a chief you’d be puffing your chest out.”
“Are they always like that?” He acted surprised.
“Here, in New York? I don’t know… you tell me.”
It’s been a while since he last spoke with someone this freely. Surely he has talked with his friends a lot. But they were people he had previously known and shared the same past as him, a connection to the outside world seemed impossible and even greedy in a way.
Soon, both of you found yourselves unable to stop talking, even Margaret chirped from time to time, making her opinion loud and clear. He got to know a bit about you, and you got to know little fragments of his life. The ones who wouldn’t lead him to share more than necessary, obviously.
Despite the rough exterior, his constant frowning stopped as a soft expression replaced it. Margaret's chubby hands absentmindedly held one of Leon’s fingers as he spoke with you, blabbering and being overjoyed by his presence.
However, her cheerful mood slowly turned sour as soon as she got hungry. Glassy eyes and sobs warned you that the conversation would come to an end.
“Yup, I gotta go.” You murmured trying not to bring more stress to your already distressed baby. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Likewise.” Leon kept his hands in his pockets, unable to come up with anything else. He wanted to say that perhaps they could repeat this. But then again, he’s been so deprived of normal social interactions that he no longer knows if that would sound creepy.
“Have a good night.” He decided it would be the wisest thing to do. He watched your soft expression as you took your little girl’s hand and waved goodbye.
Ever since that little interaction, his schedule changed. His morning routine was long forgotten. An excuse was made, something between the lines that his shift changed so he has to work in the mornings.
And he was delighted to spend time with both of you. The highlights of his whole day would be getting to hear about you and Margaret.
Each day that passed meant new memories being made. From the way he got to know Margaret’s favorite ice cream flavor to your childhood dreams. Every detail mattered for him because he could now see how simple life could be.
He took—both of you mostly— on little dates. Let it be to try a new cafeteria near the park, drinking an americano while Margaret drank from her sippy cut which was filled with chocolate milk.
However, there were times in which Margaret would stay with a friend of yours. Allowing you to be alone with Leon. And while he appreciates the joy and happiness your daughter brought, he also loved the moments in which he could focus just on you.
Sadly, years of training didn’t prepare him to man up and make the first move. When he thought he would brush away every insecurity and second guesses, something would come up.
He wanted to grab your hand, the waiter would come at the worst time. He wants to compliment you, he'd almost choke with his own saliva. He wanted to give you a goodbye kiss after driving you home, someone would call him.
It was as if the universe was against him.
Thankfully, you had picked up those hints. And if Leon wasn't the luckiest man out there, you can help him in his predicament.
On a usual afternoon, as Margaret played with the leaves that had fallen from the trees, you shot him a question.
“Would you like to have dinner with me?”
“Huh? Yes, it sounds nice.” Leon absentmindedly replied, thinking it would be like the rest of your dates.
“I mean… In my house. I don't think I've invited you yet.”
In the meantime, Margaret had grabbed some leaves which she placed on Leon's hair. The man didn't even react to it, already used to her antics.
“I wouldn't like to intrude.”
“You wouldn't. See it as a friendly meeting.”
Friendly meeting, of course. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“If you insist.” He says as the little one giggles, her smile just showing two teeth. “When would it be?”
“Are you free this 14th?”
He nods, he doesn't even remember if he's in fact free. But he'd make time.
Besides, who works on Valentine’s Day?
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He wishes he would've realized about the implications of the day sooner.
The other dates have been nothing but platonic. Of course he had been nervous, biting his nails to the point where had to put on clear nail polish.
But this one is for Valentine's Day. Day where people confess their love in dramatic ways. Some lucky people even propose on this date.
Leon has been out of the dating game for years. He believes he'll mess it up somehow, especially as he sees the reflection of himself in the mirror.
Of course, he knows he's getting better. But his appearance tells everyone otherwise. His hair continues being dark, a big contrast from his past self whose blond hair would be the talk of some people.
The palm of his hand brushes over his stubble cheek. The sensation of those tiny hairs is similar to blades. He looks at his watch, there is no time to shave. The last thing he wanted was to be late on his first date.
He sighs and walks toward the table, on top of it are two bouquets. One has multiple red and pink roses, that one is for you. The other one consists of a single white rose, for Margaret. Even if he has forgotten the basics of dating, he wouldn’t go empty-handed to your home.
The drive to your house isn’t an easy one. Not because he lacked driving skills, he is pretty much proud of how well he could drive when he is not facing life-or-death situations.
He takes his car, just for today. He knows he has to be himself and show you his love for bikes. But he would be lying if he wasn’t a tad scared about coming to your house driving his usual motorbike. What would you think? Surely you’d dump him for risking his life or something like that.
But he is so damned anxious. He turns on the radio, trying to muffle his thoughts but the first thing that comes up is a Valentine's Day advertisement. ‘Don’t mess up your date today! Try our newest product and—’ He’s trying, he doesn’t know what the ad is talking about but he needs no product for this date to be a success.
He turns off the stupid machine. After all, today’s music sucks. Nothing personal, he just doesn’t like it. He’d prefer if the radio played real music. Some Deftones and Korn would do.
But right now he’d dance to anything. Valentine’s Day, after all, should be a romantic getaway from the normalcy of life. Even though years had made him a corny individual, if it’s with you, romanticism should never die.
He’s rambling, his head is a mess. He sees himself slow dancing with you, Somethin’ Stupid playing in the background. He foresees a future in which he could paint next to your daughter, suns and trees never looked so pretty as he imagines that scenario.
Dating you would come with the whole pack, he knows well. But even at his age, he still feels like a broken child whenever he sees himself in the mirror. Memories of his innocence being stripped away of him and his present still clinging on to the faint threads of hope.
So that’s why he made the promise of taking this relationship seriously. No matter if you end up being nothing more than friends. People often say that you just know when you meet the one. And he saw the beacons of lights announcing the whole sun when he met you and your little one.
Eventually, he reaches your home. Double-checking the address you had previously sent him over text, he confirms this is the place you live in. A modest house, enough for you and Margaret.
He switches off the engine and takes out the key from the ignition. Placing his hands one last time on the steering wheel, he takes a deep breath, mentally preparing himself. And with a newfound conviction, he grabs the two bouquets and gets out of the car.
When he walks towards the door, he immediately knocks. If he dared to wait just a second just to calm his anxiety, he’d spend at least 5 minutes staring at the wooden material. So, he sacrifices that priceless time in order to face reality.
A ‘coming’ is heard by Leon a few seconds after he knocks. Eventually, the front door opens and you welcome him with Margaret in your arms. “Hey.” You greet him, Margaret doing the same as she waves her hand.
“Hey, you two.” Leon says with a warm smile, trying to hold back the fact that there hasn’t been a better image than this. “I couldn’t come empty-handed to your house so I took the liberty to bring you these.”
Leon then hands you the bouquets he had brought—the bigger one for you, and the smaller one with a single rose for Margaret.
“Are these for me?” A dumb question, of course. But there’s no harm to ask and surely it would get a nice reply from Leon who has been dancing around the idea of flirting with you. Too scared to come off as awkward and silly.
“I don’t see another pretty woman around here.” It slips so smoothly out of his lips. Leon Kennedy, you still got it, he mentally praises himself.
“Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, satisfied with the answer you received. “Please, come in.”
Leon nods and enters your house. The living room was nicely organized, and the way some toys blended in with the decoration brought a smile to his face. The perfect balance between the sober expected room with the colorful and childish playthings.
You set Margaret on the floor not before giving her the rose Leon gifted her. She absentmindedly walks toward the couch and sits down to inspect what an amazing thing the funny man brought.
“Well, looks like she likes them.” Leon hums as he watches how Margaret starts happily tearing the flower into tiny pieces. Her antics filling Leon’s heart, he could get used to this feeling.
He wants to.
“Yup, definitely.” And your eyes meet Leon’s, his piercing blue eyes are not cold as he often thinks. They remind you of the beach sea, of the gentle waves and the gentleness they carry.
And he sees himself in yours. In your eyes, he isn’t a cold and depressed agent who is fighting off the odds. He admires the man he’s becoming. The man who despite everything he has experienced, wants to do better.
“I haven’t told you yet but…” Leon trails off as he gathers the courage to do this simple yet nerve-wracking action. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
He grabs your hand and brings it to his lips. Without breaking eye contact, he kisses your knuckles. A gentleman through and through. If he could win your heart, he’d do anything to protect both of you.
Although he was lying, even if he weren’t to win you over, you have already gained a friend who would literally save the world for you to live in with your most beautiful miracle.
“You’re sappy.” You shake your head laughing, but you don’t push Leon away. In a way, your teasing comes off as a thank you.
“And you break my heart.” He chuckles, letting go of your hand which falls to your side.
As it does, your eyes fall on Margaret. While she continues playing with torn pieces of the flower, you see her head swaying slowly from side to side, as if fighting off sleep.
“It’s nap time for little Margaret.” You break the silence as you walk toward Margaret whose tiny fingers still try to tear up the already destroyed rose.
You pick up Margaret and with the way she isn't getting fuzzy, your assumption was correct. She is fighting against Morpheus, sadly losing.
You glance at Leon who is standing in the same place you left him. Admiring the scene of you carrying your daughter.
“Would you like to help me?” You murmur.
Of course he does, he wants nothing more but to embark on this new life. He has seen so much horror and for once, he wants to indulge in this domestic dream of his.
“If you let me.”
Humble, timid, and definitely not showing how enthusiastic he was about helping you.
You nod and guide him upstairs. Margaret’s room was just next to yours, even though you prefer to sleep with her, still too nervous about her getting tangled in her own blankets.
As both of you reach the room, shades of pink and white greet Leon. Some toys are scattered around the floor too. Proof of Margaret’s wholesome behavior.
Margaret shifts in your arms, her previous peaceful demeanor changing given the frustration of not falling asleep yet. She is pretty much easy to handle when nap time comes, but today is one of those days.
“You told me I could help.” Leon's hushed voice reaches you. His eyes express the need to assist you in a task like this.
“Sure…” Your heart flutters as Leon steps up to help you. You indeed asked him if he wanted to come with you. But the fact he had so eagerly accepted the role made you appreciate him even more.
If that was even possible.
As Margaret starts letting out soft cries, you hand her to Leon who is quick to catch her. At first, Margaret is held rather awkwardly which brings a smile to your face before her cries get really serious.
You help Leon by moving his hand. That gains a quiet ‘ok ok’ meaning that he got the hang of it.
He positions Margaret on his chest, her face seeking the crook of his neck as she continues letting out tiny sobs. With his hand supporting his back, he rocks her.
If anyone were to see him, they'd think he's a father holding his daughter. But in his mind, he's holding your world, his world.
Oblivious to it, Leon started humming a song. He doesn’t know where he had heard it before. Maybe it came from his mother, a memory he thought was deeply buried in his mind.
Eventually, your baby falls asleep which definitely boosts Leon’s mood as she grins. He's built for this! He thinks.
He lays Margaret in her crib. The little one breathes slowly as she drifts off to dreamland.
Both of you slowly and quietly walk out of the room making sure not to make any loud noise and wake the sleeping princess.
As you slowly descend from the stairs and are once again in the living room, Leon’s mind is filled with expectations.
What's next?
What is he supposed to do now?
As if on cue, your words break the silence.
“I forgot to order the food.” You sheepishly admit as you nervously laugh. Between cleaning the house before Leon came and taking care of a toddler the fact that a dinner without food wouldn't be a dinner slipped out of your mind.
“I'll do it right now just give me a second to search for this one restau—”
“Hey, it's okay.” Leon reaches for your arm before you can walk toward where the phone is. He takes this opportunity to do all the things he has wanted to do with you. To accomplish each one of those silly yet endearing wishes of his.
“Besides… this is a great excuse for us to bond more.”
He lets go of your arm but instead, his hand takes out his cellphone. Your eyes curiously watch as he types something.
For a moment, Leon doesn't utter a word and you can see how his fingers are slightly shaking.
Leon looks up from the phone and gives you a gentle smile before he sets the phone aside. After a couple of seconds, the slow and wistful chords of a piano announce the beginning of a song.
“May I have this dance?” Leon extends his hand toward you.
You opt to accept his hand. In the back of your mind, you wanted to tease him one more time. Just like you did when he told you happy Valentine’s. But you feel this is way more important than those simple words.
As your hand locks with his, he pulls you closer to his body. His free arm finds its home in your lower back, not too low to keep it PG and not to discomfort you in this intimate dance.
Letting him guide you, you sway from side to side. His past self wouldn't have imagined that he could reach this level of serenity and tranquility. The simple thought of having a family was like a faraway dream.
Your head rests comfortably on Leon's shoulder, the scent of his cologne being your new favorite aroma. The one that brings you memories from the time you met him to all the dates you had that led to this very moment.
The song continues its course, and the outside world is forgotten for a moment. No words are exchanged as both of you drown in the homely feeling of dancing in each other's arms.
After a while, without lifting his head and allowing his lips to ever so slightly graze against your ears, Leon's voice cut through the peaceful melody.
“Let me in.” He whispers, his hands ever so slightly tightening around your middle section. His words brush against your ear like the soft melody that plays in the background.
“What do you mean?”
“Let me in, in your life. I don’t want to ask you to just be your partner.” The weight and truth of his statement turn your head in a messy place. “I want to be part of your life and Margaret’s.”
He wants to stick around, he wants to be greeted by you and Margaret each time he comes back from a mission. He wants to give Margaret the childhood he never had. And, he wants to fulfill every little dream you and he may have.
“I want to wake up next to you each morning. To Margaret telling us she's hungry in her own way.” He's always been a man of few words, but in this moment he could recite the whole bible if he wanted.
“I want to put Margaret to sleep every day just like I did today. And I want to sleep next to you every night, knowing that you're safe.”
“I don't want you to be a memory.” His lips move to the side of your face, daring to kiss your cheeks in a sweet manner. “I want you to be my whole life.”
Smoothly and with ease, his words fall from his lips while his tempo never falters. His thumb now softly rubs your skin, where his hand is located to support your back in the dance.
He'd want to take pride and tell you he's that good with words. However, many times he has rehearsed this speech that if he had stumbled on his words he'd have let the earth swallow him.
And as the song came to an end, so did Leon’s confession.
A few seconds of silence create the worst nightmare in Leon's imagination. He could already hear your words telling him you don't feel the same that you're already in love with someone else or—
Your knuckles caress Leon’s face, feeling the growing stubble on his cheek and jaw. The sensation of being touched like this has been a long-distance memory that he's completely forgotten what being loved felt like.
He now feels both of your hands cupping his face, prompting him to look you in the eyes. His blue eyes lock with yours and admire the softest of expressions drawn on your face.
As he gazes into you, he can only think how in love he is. And what a good life awaits for him.
And what feels like both an eternity and a split second, your lips connect with his in a tender yet meaningful kiss. One that he's been expecting after all this time.
The one is indeed not a myth.
AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: I had so much fun writing this. There's something about found family that makes me all soft and sappy lmao. And sorry if my despiction about cops is wrong... I've never set foot in the US so spare your writer the embarrassment. Anyway, I hope you all have a beautiful day! No matter if you spend it with your lover, friends or alone. (Dividers are from: @/cafekitsune)
💬 SHADESOFLSK: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy fluff#resident evil#resident evil x reader
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3-Pile Tarot Reading - What is it about you that makes others mentally kneel in front of you?
I have prepared a reading where you pick one of the three piles (or two or all of them) based on which resonates with you. Then you scroll to the reading for your pile.
Clear and simple, right? Shall we begin?
What is it about you that makes others mentally kneel in front of you?
Pile 1 - Aura Quartz - 14 Bhadra Kali
Pile 2 - Selenite (Desert Rose) - 7 Dakshina
Pile 3 - Clear Quartz - Bhairavi Yogini
Pick the pile or piles you feel most drawn to!
See you in your reading!
P.S. Don't worry, I'm also working on the requested readings and you will get at least one today.
3-Pile Tarot Reading
Pile 1 - Aura Quartz - 14 Bhadra Kali
You are the creator of your own destiny and others are left in awe about it. You have goals, dreams, ambitions and you know how to achieve them step by stem. You are not the one to start feeling cold feet when an obstacle comes in your way. You are courageous, a fighter in your soul. Life hasn’t always been kind to you, it might have roughed your feathers more than once but here you still are, standing proudly and with a vision in front of you. You don’t know what boredom is as you have so many creative and groundbreaking ideas that you simply don’t have time to feel stuck. You have your emotions under control most of the time and you are likely the motherly kind of person, always taking care of others, being their trusty rock in the stormy seas of life. Your own life is likely a hurricane but you live by the saying “Calm sea never made a skilled sailor”. While you do go through rough times, you are still somewhat protected from serious harm. In your case, gods protect the courageous ones.
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Pile 2 - Selenite (Desert Rose) - 7 Dakshina
You are the survivor and people admire that about you. You have been through some tough times, you had to deal with fear and make difficult choices where none of the options looked ideal. You have been to dark places once. However, you have found your light, you have said the prayers to take you through the abyss safely, you took that step into the unknown, you made the hard choice and you have broken the cycle of manipulation and fear. You have trusted your guts and won over the inner insecurities and anxieties which were chaining you up and making you vulnerable in the eyes of others. You are that person no more now. You have found the path of self-love, passion, respect. You are now at the beginning of an exciting journey. You are building healthy relationships now, you love your new self.
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Pile 3 - Clear Quartz - Bhairavi Yogini
You are authentic and people are envious about that. You might have been insecure in the past, maybe never felt truly loved or beautiful but you have learned that true beauty comes within. It’s not only appearance, it’s the confidence you radiate. You are on the right path, you are true to yourself, you don’t let others decide what’s good for you. Sometimes people don’t understand your direction and the path you are walking. That’s fine. This path wasn’t meant for them, it’s yours. You don’t take anything for granted, you don’t follow others obediently. You ask questions, investigate and make your own conclusions and have your own opinions. It might lead to conflicts with other people, your friends and relatives might feel disappointed when you choose the path they didn’t imagine for you. You should know, you are protected and any fear or negativity will be erased away from your path as long as it’s authentic for you.
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I hope you liked this little game type of a reading. Let me know in the comments which pile you picked. As usual, pick what resonates with you and dismiss the rest.
Thank you for your attention!
Thank you for reading!
Hit the Like 💖
Comment! 💬
Reblog! 🔁
Follow for more! 💌
Any Feedback is Welcomed ✅
#oracle kleo#tarot#tarot readings#free readings#free tarot#free tarot readings#tarotblr#tarot community#pick a pile#pick a card#tarot cards#self worth#self esteem
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"We ain't gotta make up- just kiss me! We could straight-up blame it on the whiskey..." (x)
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New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season
Chapter 25 - “Reheat (Cleo, Martyn)”
❤️ Read on AO3
💛 Start from Chapter 1
💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics
And the award for "Most Zombiewood song I've ever heard" goes to...
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Is it morally okay to pretend your hitbox gives you enough collision to seduce your ex-soulmate when your queerplatonic partner (who is the admin) catches you sneaking outside the server hub to bury each other alive and you're trying to cover up a crime? Asking for a friend.
AKA - Realizing you're less scared to fake date your ex than ask your allay hybrid partner to lift his ban on dirt blocks is one heckuva wake-up call.
(First 1,500 words under the cut)
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ZombieCleo - Zombie
Status: Frustrated; getting into character
Historian, museum curator, and stadium gamemaster
💙 🧡 💚
No lanterns or torches light this sliver of a cave. Only the glow of one another's eyes, plus the occasional sparkle of the meerkat soul Martyn's cycling back into the system. Cleo can see in near total blackness and Martyn's probably much the same - the perks of being undead - but the way the irises gleam above that grim frown is so familiar that it rattles and stings inside her chest.
Back on Double Life, he used to sit slumped over his dining table just like that, alternating between staring at the wall or shoveling bread, carrots, and cut steak in his mouth by the fistful. Cleo could see him through his windows from across the ravine, though considering how sloppy of an eater he was when he thought no one was watching, she didn't make a habit of it.
Nothing's changed. They were acquaintances before - a zombie and a phantom whose paths crossed whenever she came looking for Bdubs - and nothing's really changed. It's business and for peace, and she wonders if she's doing it wrong. It's supposed to be some heart-wrenching thing, isn't it? Fake dating?
It hasn't set in yet, I suppose. Martyn's making this easy, though. For all his sassy quips and grandiose indulgence in one-liners, he's taking this as seriously as an injured spawnling in his arms. They fumble as he bends his head and she tries to get close enough to see what she's doing without stabbing flower roots through his ear. She's leaning weight on him and he holds them steady. She can hear his beating hearts in the silence of the dark, dark tunnel.
The thing is, they're both experienced players. They've both played a nice mix of SMPs. They're doing roleplay prep. They're running through the safety checks. This is steady and easy. They haven't stepped off the platform yet or plunged into the unknown. Improv's jarring, but there's a nice passion to be found in not following a script.
Set the building blocks. Do the safety checks. Start the performance. Never tell Scott that it isn't true. This is their business. Scott doesn't need to know.
Cleo tucks the blue flower behind Martyn's ear, pressing gently through the spot his blond hair sprouts short and tight against his skin. "Just one," they tell him, because this is already far enough. The turf is crumbly and dangerous beneath their feet. Not literally. Scott ran this whole place up and down with bedrock like a dragon breathing fire. Martyn holds their wrist, his other hand down in his pocket, and honestly… she can respect that. He wants to touch, and she knows he wants to touch, but it's nice that he pretends. She touches the flower to his temple. "You lose this and I'm going to be so cross."
"Got it." Martyn reaches up to trace the flower petals with his fingertips. He pets it like a lizard clinging to his head. "So is there any hidden 'zombie culture' meaning I need to know about this?"
'Zombie culture' is a questionable term, honestly, but they humor him as they thread the stem just a little farther back. "One is like… Holding hands. Two flowers is more like hugging in public, arms low, and three is a sort of pre-courtship thing. Four is like if I walked around wearing your jacket."
For the sake of metaphor, they ignore the obvious: that the jacket would respawn on him if they moved more than a chunk or two apart. Martyn doesn't, because he's petty, and Cleo thumps him in the chest.
"Look, just… Mm. My flowers are different- They're flowers and you're wearing them. I figure that makes the most sense- implying something's going on behind closed doors." Her hearts thump high in her chest, but that's got a lot less to do with Martyn and a lot more to do with the vague, frightened figure that is Scott scrambling towards them as fast as he non-teleporting legs and muffled wings can take him.
"Wait- Your flowers can separate from your skin?" Suddenly, he looks way more interested in the science than in the fake courtship scheme in the first place. "Are these real? Does this work with carrots?"
Cleo looks at the blue flower in her hand, then at him. "It's just a visual overlay of my pixels, Martyn- like how your boots turn into crocs. I'm giving you pixels that just look like flowers."
Something flickers in his face like a shadow on the moon. "You're sharing pixels with me?"
"Yeah? You literally eat my pixels every time you log me out."
"Well, yeah, but…" He exhales. Bending his neck, he gives her more room to work the flower through the edge of his hair. "Right, okay. So we're keeping up appearances, then."
"I mean, if you'd like to. Scott's going to have questions. We need a backstory." Cleo looks at him. He looks at her. Even with his fangs, they set their teeth identically. It's like they're linked even now. Cleo sighs. "No, no… I know."
"Look, if you're not comfortable-" (He doesn't have to finish.)
"Holding hands won't give us much to build on in terms of story. We need to ramp it up. Go bigger if we risked sneaking out here. Hold still- You're getting two more flowers."
"Ooh, what?"
Cleo pulls a second flower from their hair. The roots resist, but a long, steady tug finally convinces them to slide loose from her pores. She reaches up to Martyn's head. "Now, if you intend to flaunt these, let me give you some tips. These don't wilt, but the roots dig through skin to get a firm grip. They always start at the left ear and work their way around like a headband. With three, you make a triangle."
Martyn shakes his hands back and forth. "No, uh… Cleo, I kind of want to start dating again."
"What? WOW! Oh, you are headed for-"
"No, no, no! I mean… Oh my word."
Martyn breaks into wheezy laughter, then gestures towards the edge of the perimeter with a shifting wing. It's way out of sight down the slope. They're up near the whirring moat- just far enough in that it might be believable they didn't notice the door seal shut, but close enough that Scott won't have a hard time finding them. He'll have to climb a few fallen rock heaps and squeeze through a dangerously tight passageway, but that's on him. This was his design.
"No, I meant- Netty's logout anniversary… I gave myself time- I really did! I've been wishy-washy with my bachelor status for a long while - even had a 100-day fling with Mumbo - but I'm officially single and ready to mingle again. I'm trying to figure out… Look, two flowers is enough between us, I think? Don't want to signal myself as off the market."
He winces as the stem pricks the soft skin of his head. Cleo ignores it, pushing deeper. She says, "I can do a polycule headband for you instead, if you like. It's a different pattern."
Martyn coughs another laugh. "Do you know how long I've been trying to get a date? Scott's never gonna believe I got two. Is there a design for 'hot single phantoms in your area?'"
Cleo holds back a chuckle, shoving the second flower into place with a little less grace and ceremony. It's the mental link with Scott that's wobbling her concentration. Scott's rushing, but having a difficult time. His anxiety rings across their allay bond, though he's probably trying to avoid attention if he can. If people are watching him and he can't teleport, he'll do his best to assure them nothing's wrong. "In the decor customs? I wouldn't know. What do single phantoms do to puff themselves up like big, strong men?"
"There aren't single phantoms. Even if you decimate a flock, the last one will go join a new one. We don't really live the 'single' life. We're skin and bones and we scavenge- Take away the flock and we get beat up."
"Oh, poor you."
Martyn laughs again, fingers brushing across the blue flowers behind his ear. His tail ticks against the bedrock wall and Cleo can hear the soft beating of his hearts, one after the other. Martyn doesn't make eye contact and he's an info dumper. It's what he does. She adds more flowers as he waxes on a moment more about captains sharing food and love hearts and full moon nights. When he stutters out, mumbling something about betas, Cleo can't stop the sputtered laugh.
"Wow…"
"It's not like, literal-" Martyn shakes his head. "Whoa, hold on- let's get something straight- Bdubs and I aren't a pair-off! I was still wee little Martyn when he took me under his wing. Freshly out of EVO! I finished the rest of my Education courses here in New Star; Bdubs has literally known me since before my fangs grew in. I was silver spoonfed 'til I graduated."
"I can always introduce you to my friends. Y'know, like- 'Hello everybody: my soulmate is single.'"
"Aw, no…"
[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]
#trafficblr#ZombieCleo#Martyn InTheLittleWood#Zombiewood#Scott Smajor#widows alliance#Dog's Life#ridwriting#Dog's Life art#apparently art#Pixels Imperfect#mcyt#fic announcement#trafficfic
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Nanamin x bakery girl
A friend of mine requested this piece, and I thought " why not post it?" It's a Nanami x bakery girl one shot.
Let me know what you think!
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Yet again, another morning comes, another day full of deceit to make the rich richer.
Nanami's feet took him to the convenience store, to the shelf in the back with the crusted bread in complete auto pilot.
As soon as he stopped in front of the shelf, a big sigh left his lips. He opened his eyes to find the shelf filled with a different type of bread.
Nanami blinked a couple of times, sighed once more and grabbed some random snack while making a mental note to find another place close by that sold said crusted bread.
On his lunch break he searched for places close by and found a bakery. Good. Finally something good on this long, boring day.
In the next morning and so many mornings forward this became a routine and somewhat a ritual:
Enter the bakery, mumble a greeting, ask for the bread, thank the lady and leave.
This little interaction was just fine for him, no need for idle chat or long lines. She never said much besides the typical clerk lines:
" Good morning! What would you like to have today, sir?" Followed by a " thank you very much".
That is, until one day:
Bakery girl: You sure like this kind of bread, sir.
Nanami: I used to buy these at the convenience store nearby.
Bakery girl: And ours is more delicious right?
Nanami: well... this is a bakery...
The girl took the simple comment as a compliment and beamed at him. Such a cute smile this early in the morning made Nanami sigh. Some people have a lot of energy for little things, huh?
He grabbed his bread and as he thanked the clerk he noticed a creature on her shoulder. It was a small and blue-ish curse, no big deal. Such a small thing, as small as a ferret won't cause any harm, so no need to worry. Right?
In the next few days he saw that little thing double in size. No longer as tiny as a ferret, but as a big as cat or a small dog now:
Nanami:... Are you feeling tired lately?
Bakery girl: ah, you've noticed. My shoulders have been feeling stiff. I get so much tired too!
Nanami: My job is to take money from the wealthy and make these people even more wealthy. Frankly, no one would mind if I was gone. Yet for some reason, my job, which exists outside that natural human cycle pays better.
Bakery girl: a- are you bragging?
Nanami: No, I am not. Could you take a step forward?
With a swift movement the curse was gone from the lady's shoulder. He could see instant relief on her eyes and that big and cute smile appeared again on her features.
Nanami: Excuse me.
Bakery girl: Wait! I didn't get to thank you!
Nanami simply walked away. Didn't bat an eye to the lady's shouts of thank you's or what else she would be speaking.
He grabbed his phone and called Gojo. As soon as the man answered the phone Nanami let out a big sigh:
Nanami: What are you laughing about?
A couple of days went by, back to being a jujutsu sorcerer huh? The worst thing? Gojo. He was the worst of this job. Nanami sighed from the sickening nostalgia this job brought, the smell of blood, the heavy gloom in the air, the tortured bodies laying around and those pleas of mercy.
This familiar situation made a thought cross his mind: how could he have thought that curse wouldn't grow and hurt the bakery lady? He didn't even know her name and he just allowed himself to give a blind eye to that evil little thing.
Arriving at jujutsu high from a long and tiring day, he crossed paths with Ijichi:
Ijichi: Nanami-san! Good thing I caught you here! Gojo-san keeps saying he have a surprise for you and-
Nanami: What now?
He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Ijichi fidgeted a little with his fingers, clearly nervous about this " surprise"
Nanami: Thank you for the warning.
He strolled inside the school, paying attention to every corner, every shadow and every little noise, just in case this "surprise" turns out to be a " lovely" one.
Yet, nothing so far, at least outside. One, two, three steps in the building and... nothing. Couldn't let his guard down yet! He arrived in the direct room, still apprehensive, but nothing of Gojo. Good. Or maybe not? He started to get worried that the fool either tricked Ijichi or something weird was coming up.
He left the meeting with a new mission in hands, he sighed as he closed the door:
???: Na-Na-miiii!
Nanami: !!
???: How was your daaay?
Nanami blinked and felt a vein or two pop. There he is, the annoyance is person:
Nanami: What do you want?
Gojo: I was waiting for you~~
Nanami ignored Gojo and started walking back the long school hallways:
Gojo: Hey, hey, hey!
Nanami: .....
Gojo: Hey, hey, hey!
Nanami: ....
Gojo:I have something for you!
Nanami: ....
Gojo: Oh, c'mon you are hurting me! It's a gift!
Nanami: I want nothing from you.
Gojo: Who said it was from me?
Nanami: ....
Gojo: hmmmm you know, I was walking by the city and I went to a-
Nanami: I don't care and I don't want to know about your adventures.
Nanami kept walking. Gojo stopped mid way and grinned:
Gojo: What am I supposed to do with this crusted bread then? A nice young lady gave it to me " a boring looking man always bought these!"
Nanami stopped on his tracks:
Gojo: If you don't want it then, can I eat it?
Nanami flinched:
Nanami: Sure.
Gojo:... Are you sure~~? Because Name-chan seemed so agitated with something, like you did vush! And the heavy shoulder was gone~~
Another vein made itself to be known:
Nanami: How- no, why do YOU know that? I doubted she told a random stranger about it.
Gojo: Weeeeell, I heard someone on the phone the other day and I decided to do some digging. And you know, who can resist me?
Nanami:...... forget I asked anything
Nanami proceeded to walk again, faster. But not enough to avoid Gojo:
Gojo: What kind of good deed made you come back?? Hmmmm??? Saving a helpless woman in dire need?
Nanami sighed and finally snapped at the man:
Nanami: you can have that, stop nagging me.
Gojo's smile fell to the ground. He guessed that wasn't a good way of teasing Nanami, there sure would be something else soon.
While Nanami walked fast, very fast, back to his home, he had one thought in mind: find the girl again and thank her for the gift and, most importantly, to avoid Gojo completely.
Of course he didn't do that the next day. Gojo would probably be watching. So he skipped his visit to after his mission.
As soon as it was done and before letting the jujutsu team know the case was solved, he stopped by the same bakery again:
Bakery girl: Welcome! How may- Wow! Are you ok?
Nanami:.... Yes and you?
The man was dirty, bruised and had cuts everywhere. But he talked and acted as if it was nothing out of the ordinary:
Nanami: Name, thank you for your thoughtful souvenir. I would like to recommend you to not let that... man, get to you.
The girl was beyond confused at first. After a moment she noticed it was about the bread from weeks ago:
Bakery girl: Oh! You received it! I wasn't sure you got it! I am glad, I wanted to thank you so much! After that day my shoulders didn't feel heavy anymore and things started to look better!
Nanami:.... I see.
Bakery girl: you never came back again,so I thought you moved or something. But then that white haired guy asked some weird things and-
Nanami: don't ever answer him again.
Bakery girl: W-why not? Is he a bad person? Like a criminal?
Nanami: No, he is just.... him.
Nanami sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose and took a seat. The clerk got even brighter at this small gesture and started to serve him the crusted bread again with a cup of coffee:
Bakery girl: I am glad to have you back!
Nanami: .... Good to... be back...
He listened to her talk, happily chatting about some changes on the menu and the neighborhood. For some odd reason, this small chat seemed so... comfortable and safe. Something so mundane felt awfully welcoming.
And soon he saw himself going back there from time to time. When he couldn't go, a little basket was delivered to his home. This felt so warm.
Obviously this peace and quiet didn't last long. Gojo soon found out about it and started annoying Nanami: " aaaw! I became a match maker <3" or even "look, look, I knew it! I knew you had a heart deep down!"
But, hey, all this poking and teasing from Gojo was worth it. While he got an annoying companion with him during business hours, he got a wonderful company in his free time. A fair trade, right?
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That is it!
I hope you guys enjoyed it!
Was it too ooc? It was tough writing for the Bakery girl!
Thank you for reading!
#jujutsu kaisen#not proof read#Nanami Kento x bakery girl#guess i could tag this nanami x oc?#anyway
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Fast Or Slow?
I swear at one point, I was Alakazam. Or would feel like I imagine one would be. On top of the world, making decisions, on point with what people did and why, good judge of character, etc. The more life passes me by, the more I relate more to Slowpoke. Life, thoughts, relationships, everything gets slower and slower.
A slow thought process isn't so bad. Gives you more time to think things over. I wish that's all it was. Your brain literally gets slower. You forget more things. You slip on things that are usually routine. You forget an important date. You don't show up at a set time for something. Your gaming reflexes aren't what they used to be. It's not just getting older however. It's the weight of life's trials and tribulations and heavens forbid you've had a scenario or two where you can be like “it's the trauma” because then you really get messed up.
Blamed for too many things that aren't your fault. Yelled at because things aren't going a certain way. Yelled at because things are going a certain way but not quite as expected. Mental health not taken seriously in favor of academics. You just lose the desire to speak out, or hesitate to say anything anymore.
Even with all of the above being true and/or somewhat depressing, I embrace it. I prefer more times than not, to not live life in the fast lane. There are times where I've learned to value that and even embrace it. Life is for living, not for just paying bills, right? Any time I try and live a little it feels like a hard lesson or unexpected emergency is around the corner. I found myself making the same joke a friend or mine did at a gathering…”it's been a good life” upon finding out some news that will have an impact on my finances…which is like…my life. So…let's think about the same financial choices twenty times over like usual, eh? It's a crazy world we live in.
Things can get so bad that slow is good. Embrace the food times for what they are worth…and yeah…people fuck up. We're human. Most people short of some unjust crime or physical/mental abuse deserve a second chance. Slow thinking will do that. Slow can be deadly too, if you piss them off enough. One gets the horns after too many transgressions. Slow also works with being more introverted. It just makes sense. I love Charizard but years later went with Blastoise and objectively think it is the better choice. It was Blastoise that went in my Gen IV Battle Tower team that went the full 100 rounds. Not Charizard. Sorry Charizard. I'll never forget my first but I can't argue with results. A defensive Blastoise with a somewhat suicide Gengar and Dragonite claimed the W.
Today's post/rant is a bit all over the place but so is my current mind. Questioning everyone and everything. It's very much a what am I doing in life kinda day…I know realistically I'm doing what I can and things beyond my control and all that but holy hell…I rather be helping someone out while listening and using “slow thinking” vs my mind racing currently…to an extreme. It's a good time to remember the title of this blog. Truly. I'm sure I'll get through things. It's not like I know it any other way in life…but the in between experiences are the worst…so if my thinking becomes a bit slower, I embrace it. Even if sometimes it takes a bit of help to embrace slow thinking as opposed to the monkey mind that tends to win in times like these.
I have other aspirations this year and I'm not gonna let what feels like an endless cycle of nonsense get in the way of those things. Easy to say now and I may very well be lying to myself, but this is the path I just go on. If there's a “reason” this happened, it's fucked. If you have all your bases covered, one shouldn't have to go through life's torment periods. Such is life however. Peaks and valleys. Slow thinking it is…because “rushing things in the face” right now doesn't appeal to me outside of liquid courage…but I have no audience or small crowd to use my voice for, so it's just me and said liquid courage.
We've been here before. We got this. I'm saying we. Do I have a symbiote bonding with me? Be kind to yourself. Some of the best things in life are slow. Embrace it.
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==> Treekat: Take a break.
With calicos tucked into the cape pile, purring away atop pale paws, the night was yours to do with as you pleased. In most cases, it'd be another several hours staring down the flicker of a webcam. Watching every shifting shadow for some sign. Some twitch. Anything.
..But today, with words in your mother tongue buzzing rampant between your ears, building, building, building with every passing second, ramping, ramping, ramping with every frame of footage showing no skips, no cuts, no anything to convince yourself that it was all an elaborate hoax-
Some fresh air would help.
Interesting when, instead of the usual crisp taste, there was something different through the crack of the door. Frigid and clean, like ice water.. Which is exactly what it turned out to be.
Somewhere along the way, a blanket of snow had descended. Unusual occurrence. The seasons tracked, but a weather fluctuation.. was generally unheard of. Not when you preferred the dry colds, which kept the earth hard and easy to trek. How.. odd, then, to step out and find it still snowing. Flakes down from the sky, strangely clear. Frosted from dreams instead of clouds.
They drifted down like the cat fur that'd started accumulating in your block, landing just as inoffensively to melt into fleeting spots of darkness over your sleeves. The moisture faded out as soon as it came, though for form regeneration or simple lack of substance, you couldn't tell.
It wasn't cold, though. Where the crystals touched down, there was nothing but the slightest weight where the dampness of their melt would briefly cave fabric. And then, gone. Probably.. too fresh for realism, yet. Your own memory too expired to apply, the proper temperature forgotten, and thus, removed. A little bit of thinking could change that.. but you preferred that dreamlike quality.
The way it clustered so beautifully without the cold.
By the time you'd climbed down, godtier hood billowing in the gentle winds, the flurries at your feet were already dancing off into the treeline, swirling up and out from the clearing they'd found themselves in. Just like everything else lately; A little too sentient.
Nice, though. That it was the dusty sort of snow. Oftentimes, you liked the crunch of something more wet and compact. But like this.. every step was muted as you followed the wind between the waiting trunks. A darkness deeper than most, but the sort you'd always been at home in.
Overhead, fractured light shone through now and then. The gleam of the moon through still baring branches, canopy sparser and sparser with each passing day. Once, somebody had asked you if it was depressing. To watch the forest die year after year, their leaves shed and wood slowly seeped of color as they shut down to their very cores. Nothing but inactive heartwood, like a state of unbirth.
You didn't think so. More than anything, you envied it.
No time to sleep lately.
Somewhere along the path, you recognized the lichen on a fallen log, even with the white dusted over top. Hooking a left would take you to the conifers, where the needles bore themselves too proudly to fall. Took the turn.
Walking like that, you considered yourself over the shine of ice crusting a near river bed, dried and drained. Nothing but the rocks, now, precariously slick with surface freeze. Careful maneuvers.. unsure exactly where you were going. Just that.. you were.
..That'd just been existence, lately. Until everything had changed, again, leaving you measuring the meaning between nostalgia and stability. Something empty, but altogether safe. It'd defined most of the years you'd been here, now. Alone, in a gaping hive that once contained many, but ultimately.. well.
Contemplating all the things you'd once loved so dearly, it was hard to say you'd take it all back a second time if it meant returning to that constant cycle of turmoil. Things like your matesprit, your closest friends.. even your daughter. Hard to say.. you really wanted it, anymore. There was fondness, there, but it was.. past. It was done. The care wasn't the same, and that was fine. Even when things were different, nothing had ever fit quite right.
Nothing but the collar around your throat, the ring jingling softly as you made a hop to the other end of the shore. It'd always been a snug attachment.. but somehow, had left you the most freedom. A mutual value between you and its owner, before..
Wasn't supposed to think about that, right now. Not with Laiad's admission still haunting you, recontextualizing every heartbeat spent hovering at your husktop, shushing the cat's disruptions.
You'd spent too long getting to know your own independence to have it interrupted again, all at once. To know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that change was out there. Yet.. even with the knowledge, there hadn't been any sign. There hadn't been any.. anything. Why even go through the trouble of explaining, if it wasn't pertinent? Why dredge up these feelings, with nowhere to go?
Even hiking, as you were, had left you utterly lost in the conifer wing. Needed to turn back, but.. found a spot to sit, instead, sweeping your cape out from under you and nestling into a dry patch, guarded by a thick branch above.
Sat and stared, a little longer, at a visual you could recall from memory, by now. Every feature accounted for, knowing that by the time you got back, it'd all still be right there waiting for you, more photograph than recording.
Unsure what you want, out of all this.
..But if the sky could freeze, so could time. So had time.
You'd think on it.
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Sunday September 24, 2023
Another English Breakfast (which is not very different than English or Scottish breakfasts) and we were on our way for the quick walk to the train station.
The train station is small and it was easy to pick out the Backroads huddle of tourists, even though they didn’t pick us up in a Backroads van! We met Perry, one of our leaders and quick introductions to some of the tour participants. There are 15 of us - mostly couples, but three lady friends.
The driver loaded our luggage into the back of the coach, and we climbed aboard for the 90 minute drive to Boscastle.
Boscastle was known for export of shale. There is a tiny little slit of the harbor, and there was a whole industry for men who would guide the boats in using ropes from the shore. Tide was out, so the river and harbor just looked like a sleepy setting today. It was drizzling a bit, and windy - but it was warm!
In Boscastle, we met out other leader, Cale, and our support guy, Joel. Perry is Scottish with the cutest accent, so we had no idea what she meant when she originally said “Joel!” We stopped in a little cafe where they served us yummy sandwiches and quiches. We sat with Cathy and Henry from Brooklyn, and Barbara & Gates from Cincinnati.
After lunch, we had a talk about todays route and set off hiking. The mist had stopped and by the first incline people were peeling off layers. It was the first day I’d hiked in just a long sleeve T-shirt since we were in Ireland. The scenery was out of this world. The coast is just as spectacular as The Cliffs of Moher, maybe even more so, with 97% fewer people!
We hiked a pretty leisurely pace, but were in front of the pack most of the day. The trail had some mud, and some steep assents and descents, but not as challenging as the Highlands. We hiked the 5 miles in 2:45, with lots of stops for photos … about 1500 ft of climb.
The weather stayed mild, but it was very windy, and the wind started to wear us down. We followed along the costal path to the Tintagel Castle (ruins). There was a visitor center and care there, so we found a secluded spot to sit out of the wind while we waited for others to filter in. There were more tourists there, and some setting out on the coastal path without good foot ware. The castle was set on a spit of land that is almost an island, and there is an amazing bridge that spans the gap (built in 2019). Because of the gale force winds, the bridge and the castle ruins were closed today. Historian Mike Bunney was supposed to lead us on a walking tour of the ruins, and he came to talk with us, but we couldn’t go to the site. Nonetheless, his enthusiasm was inspiring! The ruins date back to the 3rd century, and during the Bronze Age it was a critical site for the export of tin, copper and slate. The area is linked to “King Arthur,” as is this whole region … but that’s another story that he’ll finish when we see him again later this week.
We had left over time, so we headed to a pub for a pint, and then climbed into the two Backroads vans for a 45 minute drive to our hotel. Jeff and I sat up front while Joel drive and we had a great chat about cycling adventures. We arrived at the Padstow Harbour Hotel, and quickly got into our routine of unpacking, some sink laundry, and showers. We had an opening reception with local wines, then a nice dinner served family style. Good food and conversation. Another great group! Whisky before bed of course.
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How to lose weight? What are the obstacles to weight loss?
The Pitfall of Constantly Seeking Immediate Results
Greetings, everyone! Today, I want to address one of the most common mistakes people make when trying to transform their bodies and embark on a new life journey. Picture this: you spend 30 minutes in front of a good mirror, under favorable lighting conditions, without blinking once, and you intensely focus on your hair. Let me ask you a question: do you notice your hair growing? Can you witness your hair lengthening right before your eyes? Of course not.
So, here’s the analogy: imagine capturing a photo of yourself today and then approaching the mirror again after six months. Do you think you would notice any difference? Would you see your hair has grown? Oh, wait, you might think it’s time for an urgent visit to the hairdresser.
But here’s the point: the first and fundamental mistake made by those who embark on a weight loss journey is constantly and obsessively trying to see immediate results. It’s akin to a person who accidentally shaved their head and eagerly stares into the mirror, hoping to witness their hair miraculously growing back. So, why do we act this way regarding weight loss? There’s only one reason: hair grows independently, and deep down, you know it will grow regardless.
The Weight Loss Insecurity Loop. Endless Fixation and Self-Torment
Weight loss is often accompanied by feelings of insecurity. What if it doesn’t work out? What if…? These doubts lead us to fixate on the process, turning our lives into an agonizing ordeal. Constantly questioning ourselves, we impatiently wonder, “When will my belly disappear?” My dear friends, this approach won’t work. After all, the sole purpose of improving our appearance is to derive more pleasure from life. However, fixating on this pursuit transforms our lives into a living hell.
Furthermore, daily weight fluctuations are common and do not necessarily indicate weight gain. Yet, worrying about these fluctuations can lead to a spiral of self-sabotage, causing you to indulge in unhealthy food out of frustration. Moreover, excessive anxiety triggers the release of cortisol, which impedes fat burning. To break free from this cycle, a little practice is required.
Practical Steps for Mindful Weight Loss. Embrace the Journey
Firstly, you now know what not to do. Recognize when you fall into the fixation trap and catch yourself in the act. Secondly, never treat body transformation as a project with a set deadline. Avoid targeting weight loss specifically for a wedding, a vacation, or the summer season. Thirdly, steer clear of restrictive diets. Firstly, diets always entail temporary changes in eating patterns, meaning they have a fixed timeframe. Secondly, weight tends to return after any diet. If you’re skeptical, please take the time to read this article I recommend.
Fourthly, remember that our results are always a consequence of the process. A beautiful body is a fact, but achieving it is a process. Similarly, an esteemed lifestyle is a process. Obesity is a process, a constant one that often goes unnoticed. However, when we struggle to fit into our favorite shorts during the summer, it becomes a fact. Aging is a process, and becoming an elderly person is a fact.
The Power of Trust and Belief. Have Confidence in Your Actions
Finally, the most crucial aspect is to trust in what you are doing. There should be no room for doubt, no “what if” or “maybe.” When it comes to lifestyle and nutrition choices, which I extensively discuss in my articles, I have never encountered a single case where someone followed all the guidelines and failed to lose weight. Not a single one. By the way, for those of you reading my article for the first time, you can find comprehensive information on guaranteed weight loss in these two articles:
Your Path to Weight Loss: Portion Control
Healthy eating. How to lose weight
Conclusion
Well, I hope you found this article valuable. Feel free to share it with your friends and leave your comments below. That’s all for today. Stay beautiful and healthy. Goodbye, everyone!
#diet#healthyeating#nutrition#slimmingworld#healthyfood#healthyliving#loseweight#fatburn#burningcalories
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Day 1 May 24 2023 Anchorage-Palmer 74kms
Hi again everyone! Today I started my cycling tour from Anchorage Alaska.
First a little background info. I left home on May 13th and flew to Vancouver. May 15th I boarded the Norwegian Jewel to sail to Seward. This was not quite as simple as boarding the Queen Mary 2 last year. I booked and paid for the cruise early this year. A few weeks ago I was informed Shirley would not be welcome on board. Meh! I decided to bring her anyway and try to sneak her on in a box….wrapped in black plastic to unsuccessfully disguise the fact that I had a bike.
All seemed to go well at the dock. The box had a sticker with my cabin number slapped on it and was wheeled away with the rest of the luggage. When Shirley failed to appear by 9pm that night I informed the service desk that she was missing. Security claimed they didn’t have her, so an all night search of the Jewel was made by some anxious staff. I convinced myself that she had been left on the dock and made plans to return to Vancouver when the cruise ended, before finally falling asleep late that night.
However, Shirley was found and delivered to my cabin the next morning at 8:30am. Yay! Security made a couple of attempts to get her back ( she had been sent to confiscated items) but they were in such a lot of trouble for causing a huge search that they gave up pretty quickly. No way I was giving her back!!
Apart from the anxious start the cruise was very enjoyable. I made lots of friends immediately and enjoyed a balcony cabin this time. It was really worth the extra cost as the scenery was spectacular and it was light until almost midnight.
There was plenty of time to enjoy the view.
I didn’t go on any arranged shore excursions since I didn’t enjoy them at all last year. I was happy to walk around the towns ( which seemed to be 90% jewellery shops ) and at Juneau climbed to the top of the mountain.
The cruise ended at Seward early in the morning and I had to fill in the day until the train to Anchorage left at 6pm. It turned out not to be a problem. Everyone wanted to talk to me when I was disembarking and getting around town on Shirley.
However, I was glad to board the train as the wind had blown up and it was absolutely freezing in the afternoon. It even snowed while I was in Subway having lunch/dinner.
We reached Anchorage at 10pm. Fortunately it was a lot warmer there and I only had a 10 minute ride to reach my Airbnb. Easy!
I’d booked 2 nights so I had a whole day in Anchorage to explore.
First stop was a bike shop to get a couple of things on Shirley tweaked. Then I rode a huge loop on a bike track around the coast and back into the city stopping at Walmart for supplies and REI for some bear spray. Yep! It’s a new addition to Shirley’s luggage, but something I was advised to carry. I’m not sure I’d be able to get the safely catch off in time to actually spray a bear if I had to but I guess it’s better than nothing.
The whole city is surrounded by either water or huge snow-covered mountains. It’s beautiful to look at.
So finally today I mounted Shirley and we began our journey.
I headed up to the Glenn Highway as that was the only road. Of course there was a sign banning cyclists. I didn’t realise there was a path on the other side of the highway but no-one tooted and the police didn’t stop me. It was very noisy and busy so I was happy to take the alternate paths when they were available further down the road.
Eagle River was a town about 30kms out so I stopped at McDonald’s for a coffee and hotcakes. I had plenty of time so I enjoyed reading a blog by some friends who are currently cycling in Spain and now Morocco. It’s alway fun to hear how they are facing the same frustrations I did when I cycled there years ago.
It was raining when I left so I dragged out all the rain gear and put it on there where I was able to sit out of the rain. It probably wasn’t necessary because the rain stopped soon after. The clown pants are pretty cosy anyway so I left them on.
I was on and off the highway for the next 20kms when I stopped just before this bridge ( can’t see the bridge but this is a photo I took from the bridge)
I ate some biscuits before mounting Shirley again for the last stretch into Palmer. You would think with all the mountains around I would have had to do a lot of climbing but apparently that will be happening tomorrow. Today was pretty flat.
I am staying in a lovely Airbnb very close to the centre of town. It has everything I need and is perfect. Unfortunately tomorrow will be a different story. I am staying in a very rustic cabin which is classified as “camping”. 😞. I have even been advised to take my own water! There will probably be no internet so don’t assume I have been eaten by a bear if I can’t post my blog.
The photo above is of the view from the back of my Airbnb at 8:45pm. Don’t know why it went there.
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Obtaining Enlightenment in the New Year
enlightenment - noun - the action or state of attaining or having attained spiritual knowledge or insight; the awareness that frees a person from the cycle of rebirth (in Buddhism).
Looking over the titles to the 319 articles I've posted on blogspot since the pandemic started and forgot to end, I have found that those with references to "light" and "love" seem to be read more frequently than others. I have also noticed that one of my songs "Looking for the Light" off my debut album Heart Walk seems to be attracting a few more listeners lately, comparatively speaking. Clearly, most of you are attracted to light or optimism as opposed to darkness or pessimism. Which is definitely healthy. Cheers!
Enlightenment, according to Buddhists, is the achievement of ultimate light as it emanates from within and is sparked when you are able to deny satisfaction to a specific portion of your ego. Rather than tell yourself you are wonderful, special, God's gift to everyone around you (as all narcissists do), enlightenment insists on humility, the deflation of the enlarged sense of self that might have started to spin out of control twenty years ago when participation awards were first handed out to you kindergarteners who theoretically didn't participate. I can't be too hard on Generation X's parenting, though, because self-centeredness and entitlement are two abstractions that have always been associated with human nature. But I digress. Buddhists believe that if you reduce your sense of self-importance, you begin to separate yourself from your body and mind so that you can walk down a spiritual path, free from pain brought on by egocentric demands. I suppose it makes sense, but it takes a sufficient amount of motivation and effort to do something counterintuitive: deny yourself the self.
Personally, some of my more advanced human friends achieve their own sense of enlightenment simply by maintaining a sense of humor. You can pretty much endure just about anything, even the fluctuations of your own ego, just by "laughing off" a potential insult from your closest family member or anything else remotely similar. It is also the perfect way to redirect a conversation that has run amuck. Buoyancy can be obtained for all with a comedic sensibility that is relatable, kind, not insulting. Even if you aren't naturally witty, you can simply not take someone else's faults or your own all that seriously. Because after all, we all have them. Faults, that is. Also remember that if you know or are related to a number of narcissists, you cannot correct their behavior, no matter how egregious it may become. They will only use your advice to manipulate and subsequently do more damage. So it's best to take what they say and do with a grain of salt and/or a shot of whiskey, whichever suits your tastebuds, and then add a hearty har-har to the mix. Wa la! Instant enlightenment, or at least, light in the room.
To enlighten can also mean to share knowledge to a positive end. I hope I have done a little bit of that for you today so that you can enter 2023 feeling a bit lighter on your feet.
#word-to-words, #slice-of-life, #literature, #blog, #blogging, #religion, #editorial, #reading, #vocabulary, #history, #ReadersMagnet, #spilled thoughts, #good advice, #personal-essay, #writing community, #writing
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You met a young man who was a wild child who harmonized his keys in his droning mind
And turns the page in a future age
Some trees will bend and some will fall but then again so will us all
Her ancient eyes were upon me
She had found me at last
Well I started to scold her aw she just started to laugh
She loves him, but just for a short while
Keeps all your dead hair.
“There is nothing we cannot fix” I said.
Now it's me who has to pay
Spin in the garden, in roses not red
And you’ll wear your makeup and I’ll hide my mess
But for you, friend of Joy.
“So please stop asking what it's got to do with you.”
“I'm not waking up tomorrow morning and finding that there's nobody there.”
“You’ll have to excuse me for being blunt speaking and Frank talking. we don’t care who likes this or not, as long as we know this is the truth. a lot of what I say might sound bitter but it’s the truth. it might sound like I’m stirring up trouble but it’s the truth. much of it might sound like it’s hate.
If you’re afraid to tell the truth then you don’t even deserve freedom.
He don’t like the truth when you know the truth about him. When you know the truth about how he got the way he is. All you need is the truth. They can’t put you in jail for telling the truth. “
Love you so much it makes me sick
You know so much, it’s making you cry. You refuse to talk, but you think like mad. Oh what have you done?
Everyone thinks I'm a liar. What do we do?
This is a time for action because the future is in reach* (there’s a bunch in that song but Stella’s choice)
I really love the things that you do
Oh, you’re my best friend
Starlight darling falls down like the weight of a stone (speaking of I found out yesterday my meniscus is torn from that fall on the roof)
Stella was born on an 8 & died on an 8. It’s considered a complete cycle.
“Can you believe that? Sick. Holding on to his picture. Dressing up every day.”
Why did she do it? Was she scared? Was she bored?
Call me a prophet if you want
Tryin to seem sane makes you seem so strange
14 miles on the Tanton trail
I know what no one else knows
A young girl’s dreams no longer hollow
Blues for D
And it's crazy to think that I could be reborn
And I knew how you took your coffee which I might have prepared for PJ
Four
Took those yesterday
Though Stella says four was Maggie’s brainchild
She said as of today (those were new yesterday) the count was 804.
Now mind you I’m a little more grounded now…but picture if you will…
It’s2019. You’re paranoid and freaked out at realizing that this chick has the power to psychically lead you around. Oh, the text messages to my shrink were epic a l’époque.
And then graffiti that only you understand starts to show. And then the word FOUR with an eye in the middle starts popping up everywhere, after you pointed out that you & Jakk are both 4, the path of service.
Do you think that maybe that might be psychologically damaging?
Kinda gives “Sinister Purpose” new meaning.
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Clementia
Anniversary Request Special
Description: You’d always had a special place in your heart for Lee Minho even though he gives you countless reasons to hate him. How long will your patience last?
Warning: alcohol, sexual assault
Word Count: 2.5k
Pairing: fem!reader x Minho
“Y/N—”
“Go away, Minho.”
“Y/N, look at me.”
“I said no!”
“Well I said I’m sorry.”
You snap around to face him. “Sorry isn’t going to cut it, Lee Minho. You screwed up. You. Screwed. Up. I gave you one request, and you couldn’t even do that.”
“I had my reasons!” he protests.
“Yeah? Well let’s hear them.”
He emits a few noises but can't come up with anything. His face flushes red, but not as red as yours.
“There’s no excuse for breaking someone’s heart ever. Remember that.” You turn on your heels and begin walking away until he says something even more repulsive.
“Why do you care so much? She’s not even your real sister!” he calls after you.
You pause, unable to comprehend how such words could ever enter your ears. You then slowly walk back to him as he stiffens with every step you take.
“Not my real sister?” Your voice is soft, but it is effective.
“I mean—”
“You’re saying the girls at Epsilon Phi aren’t sisters?” Your voice begins to rise. “We’re more sisters than you and I were ever friends, Lee Minho! We love each other more than biological families do, but of course you wouldn’t know how that feels, would you? All you have in your chest is a cold, hard piece of coal!”
You turn away and break off into a run this time. Tears stream down your face from being insulted and betrayed by someone you held with high esteem.
You like Lee Minho. Of course, you’d never admit that. To the world, he is just some kid of your mom’s friend who annoyed you to no end, but through the arguments and time spent trying to prove each other wrong, your feelings grew bit by bit. When he had a relationship with your very own Little, you held in your feelings and wished them both the best. After all, you love both of them, and their happiness together was good enough for you.
That is, until Minho broke things off as nothing but a fling.
Minho has always been a huge flirt, but he’d promised to take her seriously this time. You made him swear it, and you emphasized how much your Little meant to you. Now, because you’re his family friend, your Little won’t even speak to you. Minho had ruined your and her relationship, and evidently yours and his too.
He didn’t used to be like this, all manipulative and amorous. You remember he used to follow you at the heel, caring about nothing more than sticking gum in your hair. It wasn’t until senior year of high school did he start hanging out with random girls and trying daredevilish things. You missed the old Minho, but you thought you’d accept him for all his changes since you did, after all, like him.
Until this moment, that is.
What he did was too much. What he said was too much. You know he is becoming toxic, and if he is going to continue down this path, even your love isn’t going to bring him back to your heart.
Minho watches your waning back then slams his fist against a nearby tree with a curse. You didn’t give him enough time to explain, not that he would have been able to in front of you.
You’d forgive him though, right? You have to. When he messed up before this, Minho could be sure you would. But now, he isn’t so certain. He has never seen you so angry and disappointed before, and he did that to you. Him. Minho lets out another string of curses and trudges back to his room.
He tries making it up to you the very next morning. He shows up to your 8 AM class with a cup of coffee and slides it onto your desk before sitting down himself.
You don’t even look at him. You just take the cup and slam it down in front of him, causing its contents to spill and burn your fingers. He quickly takes your hand in his and begins wiping it with his sleeve, but you recoil your arm and take out your own napkin.
The next place he tries is at your neighboring frat party. He knows you would be there, so he wears his tightest black jeans and a loose button-up. This trick has worked with other girls, so he hopes it would on you.
He takes the dance floor with his powerful dance moves and charisma. He can see you deliberately turned away from him and chatting with someone else, so he dances towards you. The cheering circle that has formed around him moves as well, engulfing you into the crowd.
You finally turn to make sure you don’t bump into anyone. Minho takes this chance to shoot you a wink which draws the crowd’s attention to you. They cheer and push you towards him despite your protests.
Minho takes your arm and leads you in the dance. You used to like dancing with him; your and his flow matches perfectly, and the two of you could revive a dying party just by dancing together. Today though, you just aren’t having it.
Minho puts a hand on your shoulder and scoops his hips low earning a cheer from the crowd. You can hear them calling your name, anticipating your response. You look down at Minho and immediately recognize his choice of clothing.
I wonder who’s going to have her heart broken tomorrow, you think with a dry laugh. Minho flinches, recognizing that sound. You take his falter as a chance to fling his arm off of you before walking away.
A chorus of oohs fills the room, and the crowd splits like the Red Sea for you.
You hear your name from his lips again. “Y/N!” It is more strained now than it was last night. Desperate. Defeated.
You gave him some thought after hearing the sincerity in his tone, but you are glad you did not turn around that night when you see him in class with some other girl on his lap. Whatever. He’s dead to you now, so why should you care what he’s doing?
Minho watches as you walk farther and farther from him. He pushes the girl off and continues to stare with narrowed eyes at you as you greet your new seat neighbors.
This isn’t how he predicted you would react. Truthfully, he kind of knew this attempt wouldn’t work. For one, it hadn’t worked once since he first tried it in high school. He thought hanging out with other girls would make him more attractive, more desirable by competition. At least, that’s what some then-college kids told him. Once he started, he just found himself unable to stop. It was a self-feeding cycle, really. Holding onto other girls and charming them numbs the void in his chest, but you ignore him whenever he acts like this which only further widens the gap.
What is he to do though? This is the only life he knows, and so, it is the life he leads. Not all love stories can end happily.
And his sure doesn’t seem like it is going to.
Sirens wail in the background. With the amount of girls he’s fooled around with, he kind of had it coming. Minho stares at his wrists, not daring to think, but one thought keeps recurring in his mind: you. He is going to disappoint you yet again. You already hate him, and now you are going to see him handcuffed too.
The cold wind makes him shiver when you, his emergency contact, open the door and step into the station. Your eyes immediately find him, and you make your way over.
“Y/—”
“Are you hurt?” you ask plainly.
Despite your icy tone, those three simple words fill him with a warmth he hasn’t known for a long time.
“I’m okay.” His hands reach forward, wanting to grab yours and keep you with him, but you’ve already walked away to announce your arrival to an officer.
“Miss L/Y Y/N?” a young official greets a little too enthusiastically. She looks familiar, you note.
“Yes, I am she.”
The officer looks pleased by your annoyed attitude towards the defendant. “Mister Lee is here tonight because of an accusation by Miss Choi of assault,” she informs you coyly.
You look at him. “Minho,” you said with a chilled voice. “Is it true?”
“No! Y/N, I wouldn’t—”
“It’s okay. I believe you.”
“Excuse me?” the officer sputters.
“I believe him,” you repeat. “He’s been going out with more people than I have fingers, but he never laid a finger on them.”
“But Y/N, that doesn’t mean he can’t start now,” the officer protests. “You’re his contact, but you hate him now. Surely, he’s changed”
“First of all, it’s Miss L/N to you, Officer” —you read her name tag and pieces begin to fall together from her eagerness to convict Minho to the inkling you felt the moment you saw her— “Yoo. And secondly, is it not against the law for you to be working on a case where your cousin’s the accuser?”
“How did you—!”
“Nothing escapes us Epsilon Phi sisters, even news from other sororities. Besides, Minho never plays with the same girl twice. As expected, this report is filed for an incident two months ago. You, Officer Yoo, knew I was his contact and waited for us to get into yet another fight before having your cousin put in the accusation, didn’t you?”
She scoffs in your face. “That’s a bold accusation from yourself towards law enforcement.”
“Where is the accuser right now? Shouldn’t she be here for interrogation as well?”
“Well she—” the officer looks increasingly flustered. “She needs rest after having to relive the memories of what happened. We’ll call her in tomorrow. Anyway, Mr. Lee Minho, I can hear your testimony now in room #3.”
Minho stands obediently.
“Wait. I request someone else interrogate him,” you object.
“We’re busy right now,” Officer Yoo huffs. “We can’t just let you choose who does the job.”
You cross your arms. “Sure. Interrogate him and have the entire case be nulled after I file a conflict of interest.”
Officer Yoo grits her teeth but returns to her station to call for another officer.
In the meantime, you turn to Minho. “Don’t answer anything you don’t want to, especially if they start leading you on with questions. It’s in your rights to remain silent, alright?”
Minho nods numbly at your words, still confused as to why you are so nice to him. Before he can figure it out though, an older man appears from the back and takes him to an interrogation room.
“Mr. Lee Minho?”
“Yes.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Chief Jeon. I’m just going to ask you a few questions today; is that alright?”
“Yes.”
The chief nods and pulls out some papers. “Would you mind describing what happened with Miss Choi?”
“Well I was with—” he gestures towards the papers with his accuser’s name on it— “and we were hitting it off. She bought me a couple of drinks and at some point leaned in to kiss me. I realized something at that point, and I stopped her. She got angry, saying how she spent all that cash on alcohol for me, and threatened to accuse me of assault if I didn’t do what she said, but I knew I couldn’t do it.”
“Because of what you realized?” the chief repeats.
“... Yes.”
“And what was it you realized?”
“Do I have to say it?”
“According to the law, no, but if it can help you with your case, you might want to.”
Minho fidgets with his cuffs. “They can’t hear me from outside, right?”
“No. They most certainly cannot.”
And so, Minho tells him.
Minho turns around while the metal bars clang shut behind him. The chief thinks he has a pretty good chance, but due to the gravity of the accusation, they still decided to keep Minho in holding to give the accuser more time to make her case.
You stare at him from the other side, arms crossed. Minho takes the fact that you’re still here at two in the morning as a good sign for him.
“Thanks for being here,” he tries to start a conversation.
“I didn’t really have a choice.” So cold.
“I’ll change my emergency contact.”
“Please do.”
He winces. “Look… Y/N, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for insulting your sisterhood and for hurting your Little. You’ll forgive me, won’t you?”
He looks at you with those doe-like eyes of his. For once, you don’t feel anything while looking back at them.
“That’s not why I’m mad anymore. In fact, I’m not even mad,” you tell him. “My Little told me what really happened. She told me that she was actually the one who dumped you after you adamantly refused to kiss her. I asked some other girls you’ve seen and they all said the same thing. That’s why I was so confident with the officer earlier. I guess I owe you an apology for getting angry when you weren’t at fault.”
“Then”—he holds out a hand sheepishly— “truce?”
You look at it but keep your arms crossed. “Taking a step back from you has made me see things I wasn’t able to before, Minho, and that’s made me realize how much you’ve changed. You were my friend, my rival— someone who never failed to get on my nerves but also someone I couldn’t go without. But now” —you drop your arms and shake your head— “I can’t even recognize you anymore.”
You take a step back to leave. You’ve done this many times before, like when he stuck a plastic spider down your shirt or when he called you stupid in front of your crush in fifth grade, but something about this time feels different. Something about this time tells him you aren’t turning back around once you left.
A sudden despair grips Minho and he runs into the bars. “Wait!”
You pause, offering him one last second.
“Your Little,” he gasps, “did she tell you why I wouldn’t kiss her?”
You nod. “The others I asked did too. They said you were thinking about some other girl while you were with them.”
“Not ‘some other’ girl. One other girl.”
“I know.” You begin to walk again.
“Then why are you leaving?” He reaches a hand out, trying to grab any part of you. “Stay with me. Please, Y/N, stay.”
You don’t pause a second time. Out of desperation, he cries out, “Y/N, I love you!”
That makes you stop midstep. He holds his breath as you put one foot back then the other next to it to face him. You are so beautiful when you look at him. He melts under your gaze as you focus on him and only him. He’ll cherish you this time when you give him another chance. He’ll quit this playboy lifestyle. He won’t take advantage of your patience anymore. He’ll give you all that his heart has to offer. He’ll make sure you’re the only one in his eyes. He’ll love you. He loves you.
“Minho.” You relax your shoulders and straighten your back. You tilt your head just slightly forward and erase the edge off your tone. “I loved you.”
#lee minho#lee know#stray kids#stray kids fic#minho fic#lee know fic#stray kids imagine#lee know imagine#minho imagine#stray kids angst#lee know angst#skz#enemies to lovers#fem reader#2nd anniversary special#20210815
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