#they all have their own sense of comraderie and feel comfortable approaching each other for help

[isekyaaa]

I also absolutely love how Rozemyne's weirdo ways have infected her retainers. While certain attendants are treated with more respect due to their knowledge and skills, the idea of this treatment being based on status has no grounds. Not counting scholars, her attendants and knights are headed by a mednoble and laynoble. But more than that, I just adore how they get along despite it all. Sure, Hartmut may bully everyone, but they all respect each other and rely on each other. Every single one of them is important. That's not even mentioning the ways she's affected their thinking, actions, and ideas of respect to the point some have no issue arguing in front of royalty for the comfort of their lady.

[introverted-imagineer]

The Heart is Crimson

Warnings: Descriptions of assault, abuse, slavery and extreme violence. Adult themes. Please avoid and protect your well-being if you suspect this work might not be for you.

(Part 18)

I impatiently paced across the ground as the boat sat stranded on the riverbank. A broken rudder…a bloody piece of useless material…one single part of the whole ship kept me from Twyla. ‘They will be back soon Y/N’ Mariam soothed…a tired smile on her face as she busied herself sorting the collection of books she lugged everywhere with her. What would she know about anything…books could only tell you so much. 

Leif and Harald had trekked in search of a township by the name of ‘Kodak’ not too long ago in search of materials to fix the rudder. Each morning as the sun rose, and when it set in the evening it became harder and harder to clutch onto the hope of seeing my daughter again…my friend…my family. I stomped over to Kurya as he sat away from the rest of the group, listening, feeling and sensing the world around him. I didn’t even need to announce my presence as I slumped down next to him. 

‘Tell me something good’ I whispered, watching the river flow gently to where I yearned to go. His shoulders rose and fell slowly as he inhaled deeply, the corner of his lips perking up and he readjusted his bandages. 

‘You remind me of my wife sometimes Y/N’ he giggled slightly to himself. ‘Yesty was also very stubborn…but had a kind heart’ he said, his voice drifting into sadness. I lifted my hand from the grass, grasping onto his hand, and giving him a comforting squeeze. ‘How did you meet?’ I questioned gently. Kurya, of course, had mentioned his wife in passing, a story here or there, but never any specific details. He had never explicitly said she had died, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. Kurya walked around with a broken heart…

‘There had been strife between the tribes…her father presented her to my father as a peace offering, to unionise our tribes through a marital union’ Another inhale, fiddling with the bandages on his face pointlessly. I gently squeezed his hand again, prompting him to continue his story. His despair comically turned to laughter as he chuckled breathlessly to himself. ‘What?’ I questioned, my own lips raising into a smile at the ridiculousness of it. Kurya was always the sensible voice of reason, it was rare to see a relaxed side of him. ‘W..Wh’ he emitted through laughter. ‘When my father presented my brother and I…it was assumed, him being the older of us, that she would wed him…she took one look, and without hesitation said I’m not marrying him, but the younger one I might’. He lost himself in laughter, a radiant glow on his face that I had not seen…only when he ever talked about his wife. ‘My brother was furious’ he chuckled, clearly satisfied by the memory. ‘Her father was so mortified by her brazenness…within the week we were married’ he said, his laughter depleting, but the smile on his face remained the same. ‘Did you ever have children?’ I asked curiously. His head turned toward me, as he lifted his hand to the crown of my head and soothed my hair. ‘I have all the family I need’. 

As I sat with Kurya, my thoughts were lost to memory as I stared at the river flowing down the bend, I barely noticed that everyone's attention had shifted elsewhere. 

‘Something smells good!’ A foreign voice sounded. I turned around to find a strange man, decorated from head to toe in tattooed ink, cockily and confidently approaching the camp. He did not seem deterred by the number of people who stood to attention at the sight of his presence grasping onto weapons as he stepped forward. I stood, making my way back toward the camp as the stranger and Gestr greeted each other with enthusiasm. It was no secret, Gestr was an immoral being, but his hubris made him a total imbecile. The natural comradery between the pair however was frightening. 

‘I see your boat is missing its rudder’ he noted, inspecting the vessel with great interest…and everything on it.

‘It is being repaired in Kodak’

‘So there are more of you?’ He questioned

‘Just two’ Gestr replied. 

The energy shifted as everyone, but Gestr, tensed at the sudden reveal of information to the stranger. I clutched my fist tightly as I whipped my eyes around to see everyone else similarly on edge as the stranger seemed satisfied with this newfound information. I looked back to find his eyes locked on mine, his own eyes flicking up and down as he sauntered toward me. 

He pressed his chest against mine, his rugged breath brushing against my head as he towered over me. ‘How much for this one?’ He yelled at Gestr, bringing his hand up to move the hairs that fell over my forehead. I brought my hands up, pressing my palms against his chest and pushing him a step back. ‘Not one of mine, unfortunately’ Gestr said, his voice seething in self-pity. The stranger's eyes did not leave mine as he took in every inch of my body. ‘My name is Baggi’ he introduced in a flirtatious tone. My stomach churned as an overwhelming sense of revulsion came over me. I glanced over at the boat behind Baggi, Gestr’s eyes intently watching my every move as his newfound friend directed his interests at me. ‘You are certainly a rare find in these parts’ he said in such a slimy tone, I could feel my spine shiver with discomfort. 

‘Leave my wife alone’ Kurya’s voice sounded from behind me as he sat still where he had before. Even from a distance, Kurya could always sense when something was wrong with me. Baggi scoffed at his remark. ‘Your husband?’ He questioned. I simply nodded, taking a few steps away to put some distance between us. I could hear the enslaved girls giggling between themselves. Baggi’s face fell slightly in disappointment, his chest raising in slight anger at the public rejection. He strode forward slowly, his eyes locked on mine as he rounded me carefully, his chest poking against my shoulder…taking a whiff of my hair. I remained facing away as Baggi continued his stalking amongst the camp. It was tensely silent as everyone remained frozen in place.  It felt like forever in the few minutes that passed. The silence was interrupted as he slowly stalked back toward me, his footsteps creeping up like a predator on a hunt…a chuckle emitting from his gut. ‘You don’t know who this is, do you?’ He triumphantly sounded as he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. I stood frozen as his rough calloused fingertips stroked the skin on the back of my neck. A fury of anger washed over me as my breathing increased. I could feel my heels digging into the ground as everyone's attention was solely focused on me. Baggi laughed.

‘You are not this man’s wife…this man's wife is dead’. 

I stood frozen, tense in fear, anger and confusion as this man so confidently narrated Kurya’s life to the group. 

‘This man is the Khan’s brother, Kurya’ My stomach churned as Baggi so knowingly told the tale of Kurya’s wife, and the Khan’s brutal assault and murder of his fallen wife. It felt like the world was spinning around me as I didn’t know any such thing about Kurya’s past. I knew he had a brother, but I had never imagined he had been a brutal ruler. Maybe this was why Kurya rarely spoke of his life as a Pecheneg. All Kurya had said about it was that he had chosen a different path…but never would I have known the consequences of his old one were so severe. 

‘Now the Khan drinks wine every night with a silver cup made from her skull’ he said as his fingers trailed up, grasping the hairs on my head as he forcefully craned my neck back. He inched his face so close, I could feel his chapped lips brush against my cheek. 

‘And put a bounty on his missing brother's head’ he said, his raspy breath blowing into my ear, his fingers releasing. I breathlessly dropped to the ground, scuttling towards Kurya on my hands and knees, desperate to get away from Baggi. I clutched onto Kurya’s robes as he sat, frozen in place…as if he didn’t even realise I was there right in front of him. 

‘He is worth money?’ Gestr questioned, striding down the board to Baggi. I quickly stood up, my fingernails cutting into my palms as fury took over. I was going to kill him. As I took a step forward, I was thrust back just as quickly as Kurya had grabbed onto the fabric of my dress, holding me back from perpetrating the extremely brutal violent attack I had spinning in my head as I watched Gestr. The rest of Baggi’s presence escaped me as I stood there, vowing with every inch in my body and soul to put an end to Gestr’s greedy, vile, degenerate, pathetic existence. 

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In Kodak

‘Harald, Freydis is carrying your child’ 

Harald had endured many hardships in life. He had fought bravely in battles that left him forever scared, he had loved and lost people throughout his life, he had an enemy in his own brother, he had left the person he truly loved, and he had even battled his own demons and morals throughout his life…but nothing was as painful as hearing this. 

‘How long have you known this?’

‘Since we left Norway. She made me promise not to tell you’ 

‘You Bastard. I thought you were my friend’ 

The shock was almost as powerful as when he saw Y/N again, after all that time. The person he truly longed for…he had spent days and nights wondering if Y/N was still alive, if Y/N thought about him, if he would ever lay eyes on Y/N again…A year yearning after someone he thought he had lost. Now he would likely spend a lifetime wondering about the child he had never known about. Had he known, things would have turned out differently. The immense love he thought he had felt for someone…an enigma, and now he felt a love so overwhelming he thought his heart might burst. 

‘She understood that if you knew you were to be a father, you would not leave her’

‘and she’s right’

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Back at Camp

‘Don’t ask any questions, just follow my lead’ I whispered to the enslaved girls as they sat hopelessly on the boat, their hands bound in heavy chains that rubbed against their skin. ‘YOU’ Gestr yelled, charging back onto the boat, his axe in hand as he readied himself for a fight. What he didn’t realise was that I was just as ready for him. 

Gestr stomped across the boat, he reached his arm out clutching onto the neck of my dress and threateningly pushing me harshly into the side of the boat. The look in his eyes was one of pure evil as he held his axe up ready to strike if needed. ‘I’VE TOLD YOU BEFORE AND I’LL TELL YOU AGAIN, YOU DO NOT ENGAGE WITH MY PROPERTY’ he spat angrily. A could hear a whimper let out from one of the girls as their eyes locked onto the scene in front of them. ‘You don’t have Harald to protect you now’ he taunted, bringing the blade of his axe right up against my neck. My throat bobbed as I took a deep gulp, my skin pressing into the blade, reminding me of my mortality at stake. ‘I don’t need Harald Siggurdson’ I whispered against his pressing blade’. 

*BANG*

Within seconds, Gestr lay unconscious on the floor, a small rush of blood spilling from his temple. Elena dropped the heavy plank of wood by her side, shaking her arm to relieve the pain in her joints from the strike she had just delivered. I took in a deep breath, rubbing at the skin on my neck which luckily had only just been indented by the pressure of the blade leaving a red mark that would fade soon enough. I looked at Elena, as she looked back at me. We gave each other a knowing nod. 

I reached down, whipping the belt from Gestr, sliding his ring of keys he so mockingly jingled day in, day out. I threw them to the girls as they sat there in disbelief. ‘You belong to no one but yourself…do you understand me?’ I spoke, watching as all their eyes stared at the keys in front of them. One of the girls nodded, her eyes watery. As Elena jangled the keys, jamming different keys into the locks, one by one a satisfying clang sounded as the metal cuffs hit the floor of the boat. 

‘We must hide him’ Mariam sounded from behind me, as she boarded the boat with a handful of ropes. As quickly as they had been uncuffed, the girls knelt to the floor practically snatching the ropes out of Mariam’s grip and taking the opportunity to tie up the man who had kept their freedom from them for too long. 

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‘Welcome back! I see you have brought friends’ Batu called radiantly as the inevitable return of Baggi finally arrived. He dismounted his horse, trudging forward seemingly confused by the warm welcome, compared to before. I sat on the edge of the boat, my legs dangling over the edge, my skirt ridden up slightly in a flirtatious manner. 

‘What is this?’ Baggi questioned, pointing to Kurya as he stood underneath the branches of the tree chained by his neck. It killed me to see him like this…a man whom I only now understood why he was so broken in so many ways. Why did it have to be him that these brutes wanted? Kurya deserved more. 

Batu explained a fabricated story…how he killed Gestr (if only) and went crazy. That suddenly a group of people who disliked Baggi before, now welcomed his friends with open arms? This was too risky to play off I had argued, that he would never fall for such a ridiculously unrealistic story. But as their horses rounded the trees, there was no other option to decide on another plan. Gestr looked toward the boat, his greedy eyes hungrily fixated on me. I lifted my hand, fluttering my fingers in an amorous manner as if to say ‘It’s you I want’. But Baggi stopped in his tracks, clearly stumped particularly by my welcoming manner. He turned his head, making a halt sign to his friends. They instinctively grasped at their weapons, following Baggi’s lead as he began to question Batu aggressively. ‘What’s with my friend from earlier?’ He spat cautiously, with an aggressive tone. Batu stood there stumped, looking between Baggi and myself as I tried to sit effortlessly on the edge of the boat. ‘W..what do you mean?’ Batu coughed. Baggi lifted his fist, gripping onto Batu’s shirt. Metal clanged behind them as the men pulled their weapons from their hilts and belts. ‘We put something in her drink’ one of the enslaved girls, whose name I had learnt to be Cadlin, shouted as she cheerfully lifted her cup in a fictional drunken slumber. 

I took her lead, slushing the cup around in my hand, downing it’s invisible contents, and letting out a satisfying ‘ahhh’ sound. The girls giggled along with Cadlin ‘Y/N is a bitch anyway’ they chuckled as they mockingly laughed as I pretended to sway on the edge of the boat. Mariam ran over, pretending to grip onto my body, as I leant my body back into her grip, falling back onto the boat. 

I could hear Baggi laughing, his friends seeming to laugh alongside him, clearly relaxing amongst the environment, believing the story unfolding in front of them. ‘Well done’ Mariam whispered, a slight smile of relief on her face at the performance we had just delivered. I couldn’t help but smile back at her efforts too. Maybe she wasn’t so bad after all… 

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The Varangians slowly loosened up throughout the afternoon…Elena, Mariam and the girls pouring more drinks as quickly as the men consumed them. I spent the time continuously embarrassing myself, pretending to embrace the lustful suggestions of someone as horrid as Baggi. There was one thing these men liked, possibly even more than Gestr. Attention. It wasn’t hard to gage, but it’s all we had to work with to lower their guards. How powerful the Varangians were, how they were so skilled, and how they were talked about with great fear and respect in the cities. Luckily Baggi’s attentions were now more focused on hearing legendary tales of his people, rather than roughhousing me like his friends were the girls. 

‘Well, well, well beautiful’ one of the men tutted as he boarded the boat, his eyes trained on me as his cup swished in his hands. Baggi sat rigidly, looking between me and his comrade, a seething jealousy evident on his face. I continued my facade, greeting him with a pitched giggle that washed a feeling of self decrepitation over me entirely. Batu clearly peaked at the sudden tenseness between the men as he grabbed another wine pitcher, filling Baggi’s cup. ‘I have more stories if that is of interest to you?’ He said cautiously. Baggi sat there, his eyes flicking between myself, his friend and Batu. He finally took a deep drink, wiping his mouth with the fabric of his shirt, satisfyingly turning to Batu to listen to another made-up story about the great Varangians. ‘You can come with me gorgeous’ the man said, holding his hand out so chivalrously. I reached down, grabbing another pitcher of wine as I clutched onto his hand, giggling more, being sure to stifle my balance as he lead me down the plank. ‘Don’t be long Engil!’ Baggi cried ‘I will be needing her soon enough’ he said with a laugh, Mariam and Batu following suit. But Mariam's eyes trailed on mine as she worryingly watched as Engil lead me off the boat…stalking away from camp out of sight. 

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‘No wonder Baggi was so eager to bring us all back after he found you this morning’ Engil moaned as his hands ran up and down my boat, his tongue swirling around in my mouth. We hadn’t had a plan past getting them drunk and assuring them Kurya was crazy…but after hours it seemed as though they were never going to leave and we were all but entertaining these creeps. I let out a fake moan as his stubble beard hair rubbed roughly against my chin. ‘Kiss my neck…I love neck kisses’ I moaned. He was ravenous for more…and I could only hope they would leave soon before he tried something else. His stubble grazed the skin on my neck, but it was much preferable to the tongue I had down my throat for the past half hour. 

As he busied himself, biting at my neck, I couldn’t help but notice the silence in the distance. What was once chatter, laughing, and the clanking of cups was now utterly silent. My stomach dropped…this was not good. Had they all gone? Had someone else come? Had they taken Kurya? 

I hardly realised my body went stiff as the gnawing on my neck disappeared,  Engil’s hands no longer roaming over my body. He pulled away slightly, looking at my face questioningly. His head began to turn slowly as he noticed the silence too, his hands pulling away from the lustful distraction he was already lost in. Shit. 

I reached down, grasping onto his hard cock that had been poking into my legs. He let out a loud moan at the sudden contact…the tenseness of sudden silence was replaced by satisfaction. I grabbed his face with my hands, shoving his face back into my neck as I fondled his groin over his pants, his body shaking eagerly as I busied myself trying to figure out why there was a sudden silence. However, it was not to last. 

The clanging of metal sounded as the silence turned to shouts. I desperately held Engil against my neck, but he pulled away strongly, throwing me to the ground as grabbed his axe from his belt. He stalked around the bushes that hid us. I couldn’t see what was unfolding, but enough to know it was bad as he stalked back toward me, pulling me by the hair on my head and laying me on the ground. He mounted me, holding my body down with his heavyweight as he delivered a piercing slap to my face. ‘YOU BITCH’ he yelled, lowering his face, smashing his lips against mine, sinking his teeth painfully onto my bottom lip making me scream. ‘WHO ARE YOU? WHAT IS YOUR BUSINESS HERE?’ He cried as he grasped onto my wrists as I tried so desperately to wrestle from beneath him…but even drunk he was much stronger than me. 

He gripped the neckline of my dress, ripping it, pulling down my smock and exposing my breasts. I continued to wrestle beneath him, trying desperately to pull myself from the ravenous, raging man on top of me. He gripped onto my breast, squeezing it with all his might and twisting the skin. It was complete agony. His grip became slippery, however, as he pulled away to find the palm of his hand covered in a warm liquid. Only instead of being crimson ready as expected, his palm was doused in milky white. I began to cry as he let out a deep evil laugh, gripping again at my already tender breasts, torturously squeezing my pulsing nipples demanding answers to his questions. 

‘Please…please s..st..stop’ I pleaded through cries of pain, but with every pleading, his grip tightened. ‘TELL ME’ he screamed. My eyesight began to blur at the sensation of unbearable pain. My head spun as his words began to slur, the world in front of me disappearing into blackness before my eyes. He delivered another slap, making me conscious again. But my body was weak and in excruciating pain and torture it wasn’t going to last. 

‘I’LL FUCKING KILL Y…’

A metal arrow shot through his neck and he began to croak at the sudden impact. He gagged, blood pooling from his mouth into my eyes as his body shook, becoming even heavier. I screamed, crying at the sight in front of me. I had experienced violence, abuse, fear…childbirth…but nothing could compare to the dread of watching a person die right atop of you. Bleeding, eyes dilating, total and utter dread as his eyes locked on mine, his lips turning blue. My cries continued as he fell atop of me, the impact of our bodies pushing the arrow back out the other side of his neck, a sickening slushing sound-emitting.  My cries continued and screams protruded from deep within my gut. The world around me was silent, the only sound being the final desperate breath from the man dying on top of me. 

‘Y/N!’ A voice cried desperately. My rough rugged breathing had turned to hyperventilation as I cried out. ’T..tw…twyla’ I cried as the mans blood soaked my body. My sight was too blinded by my tears to see anything. 

Suddenly the body shifted from me, a voice huffing as they practically threw the man's lifeless body away. Those familiar hands grasped my cheeks. ‘y/n’ he whispered worryingly, looking down at my almost naked, blood-stained body. He pulled my tunic up, covering my bruised chest carefully before tucking his arms under my limp body, pulling me into his embracing rocking me back and forth. 

‘Harald…’ I whispered

‘Y/N’ he replied. 

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For hours he sat there with me, rocking me back and forth as I cried into his shoulder, too weak to hold my own body up. Nobody had dared come interrupt his act of tender care as I continued to cry, soaking his shirt. 

By the time the moon had risen and the sky had turned black, only then had my eyes become too dry to let any more tears flow. Footsteps sounded behind faintly as I sat there, limply lying in Harald’s embrace. ‘Here…it’s one of mine’ Mariam sounded as she placed something on the ground next to us. Harald’s hand came up, soothing my hair down on my head. ‘Thank you’ he whispered back, her footsteps retreating back to wherever. 

Harald gently leaned back, still being careful to hold my forearms as I was barely able to hold my own body up. ‘If I have your permission, I think we should clean you up?’ He questioned, trying to find my eyes. My throat was scratched and dry, my body was limp. It took all my energy just to give a single nod of my head. 

Harald’s hands wearily went down to the bottom of my dress, gently clutching the stained fabric in his clutches. He trailed the fabric up my body, being careful not to touch my bruised skin. He gently bunched up the fabric, his hands accidentally brushing against my tender breasts, making me seethe, as he rolled the fabric over my head, leaving me totally naked. He took in a deep sigh, taking in the sight of what the moonlight allowed, his face wincing in pain as he looked at the state of my bruised neck and chest. I could feel his shoulders drop as he took in the sight of me. The way his eyes looked into mine, I could tell he was blaming himself. 

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Harald gently lifted my arms, wrapping them around his neck as our bare chests pressed against one another. His bands gently slotted underneath my legs as he lifted my body effortlessly, walking us into the chilly river. He walked deeper into the water until the water was up to his chest. I could feel his chest rising and falling quicker at the sudden cold temperature that took over his naked body. I barely registered it. He gently lowered himself into the water, taking the opportunity to slide his hands from underneath my legs, tucking his arm securely around my waist, making sure to keep a close hold on my weak body. I let my head drop into the crook of his shoulder, my arms still placed securely around his neck. 

The sound of water splashing sounded gently as Harald took the time to carefully scoop handfuls of water into his palm, washing the blood off of my body. His hands danced carefully and gracefully over my body as he made sure to erase every single patch of red that stained my skin. 

‘Lie back’ he whispered, placing his arms under my body, lying me back into the water. His fingers massaged my scalp as he washed the remnants from the day out of my hair. I closed my eyes, taking in the feeling…it was pleasant. The only sound being the swishing of water. I could now begin to feel the chill of the water. 

Harald’s arms untucked from my legs, bringing me back into a standing position. This time our chests pressed against one another, instead of me being tucked into his side. I brought my arms up, weakly wrapping them around his neck, pulling our faces closer. Our foreheads pressed against one another, our eyes closed as the only sounds between us were the sounds of our breaths. 

‘I’m sorry y/n’ he whispered, as his arms protectively wrapped around my waist.

‘I’m sorry for everything…I realised today there are things much more important than becoming King of Norway’ he breathlessly began to explain. But I simply kept my head pressed against his, taking in his words. ‘I learnt today that Freydis has carried my child’ he whispered, an utter saddened despair in his tone. I could feel my heart stop…

‘If ever someone put my child through the things I put you through…I would find that person to the ends of the earth’ he whispered, a sniffle sounding as he tried to hold back tears. But he did not, his tears fell as he mourned the past, the present, the future, the child he would probably never know. A shattered parent. A feeling I could empathise with all too well. It was a reaction I never expected. 

I tilted my head back slightly, but our arms stayed wrapped around each other. I gently slid my hand from around the back of his neck, placing it gently on his cheek as his tears subsided, but the pain was still very much there. 

I leant in, placing a single peck gently onto his lips, pulling myself back into an embrace as we clutched onto one another, him mourning his child he did know of, and me mourning the child of ours he didn’t. 

[lovestruckay]

Request: "Please make a fic where the reader (female or gn) is new to the Fire Force as an unpowered person and they become attached to Viktor"

Pairing: Viktor x Unpowered Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you sm for the request, @thesolarflame​! I really flip-flopped on what position to give the reader considering she is unpowered. I thought about making her a member of the science team, a fighter like Obi, and even making her a sister. I think everyone will enjoy what I landed on though!

When Vulcan first joined Company 8, he had done an inspection of their matchbox and all of their fire fighting equipment. Once he had finished going through their arsenal, he had explained to Obi that there was just far too much for him to maintain on his own while simultaneously developing new technology to assist them in battle.

Just maintaining the matchbox was a task in and of itself, let alone the fleet of weapons and armor that Obi donned every time they were called to the scene of a fire. He was a talented engineer, surely, but there was only so much one man could do.

Vulcan’s solution: he knew a girl.

He had wasted no time in gathering up Lisa and Yu and going on a little “family outing” before returning with the mysterious mechanic in tow, the woman receiving a warm - if chaotic, as per Company 8’s usual demeanor - welcome.

She was an engineer just like Vulcan, a talented technician who was nearly as famous as he was in their close knit junk-rat community. While Vulcan was renowned for his skill at creating unique and nearly indestructible machines, she was famous for her ability to keep machines going far passed the point they should have fallen to pieces.

Vulcan frequently tried to pick her brain on her uncanny ability but her answers were something that befuddled him more than anything else.

“It’s love. You can spend years building the most flawless, indestructible machine the world has ever seen but, without love, she’ll break down as surely as the sun rises. Love keeps things going when they should fall apart.”

Vulcan scoffed at her sentimentality and she laughed at his stubbornness, the two always returning to their friendly rivalry despite their differences in opinions. They would rag on each other and goad each other on but, through it all, he respected her skill and she respected his ingenuity.

As for the rest of the company, she got along well with the crew of fire soldiers. Despite her easy comradery with the others, however, she always felt out of place. After all, she wasn’t a fire soldier or even a pyrokinetic so suddenly getting wrapped up in all this business with infernals and the White Clad was disarming.

She had gone from her humble machine shop to a Fire Force cathedral, surrounded by people who could control bullets, who could make swords out of plasma, and who could even fly. She was just an engineer - and unpowered at that - and, despite how fulfilling her work was, she felt like she had lost her anchor joining Company 8.

Initially, she had latched onto Vulcan and Lisa for some sense of normality but the feeling of being a third wheel quickly overcame any comfort that came from their companionship. After all, the two mostly stuck to themselves, the two very much in love. More than that, with Lisa still dealing with her trauma from her experiences with the White Clad, Vulcan was even more unavailable than ever.

Feeling lost and out of place, she was surprised to find an easy companionship with Company 8’s one and only science officer.

Viktor had been the one to initiate their first real conversation, the man as curious as he was out of the ordinary. He had approached her while she had been having a conversation with the matchbox, praising her girl for doing such a great job during their last mission.

“Do you think the matchbox understands you?” Viktor asked, peeking down into the inspection pit beneath the vehicle where she spent a fair amount of her time. Despite how bluntly he phrased his question, there was no judgement in his tone. Just simple curiosity.

“I’m not sure if she understands my words but I think she understands what I’m saying, if that makes sense,” she answered with a friendly smile, already used to conversations like this with Vulcan.

“So, it’s more of you trying to get across your message and your intentions rather than believing you are having an actual conversation with a machine?”

“You could say that, although it still is a conversation. I listen and she tells me what’s wrong, so I fix her. Then she listens to me when I praise her and ask her to keep going. We talk, just not like you and I talk,” she explained, pleasantly surprised when he simply nodded in understanding.

Their conversation continued well into the afternoon, to the point where - after she had finished her tune up - the two had perched themselves on the bumper of the matchbox to continue their chat. It wasn’t until Vulcan had come out to collect them for dinner that they realized how long they had been talking and laughing, a situation that they would find themselves repeating every day for weeks.

Sometimes their conversations took place with her down in the inspection pit under the matchbox or her in the equipment room maintaining all of Company 8’s gear.

Sometimes they talked for hours in Viktor’s admittedly messy room (he tried to clean up just for her) or even on the roof of the cathedral.

Sometimes they chatted for hours at the dining room table, the entire company coming and going for lunch and then dinner and leaving them to their conversation with knowing smiles and teasing giggles.

She found herself relieved to have someone who understood her, both as an engineer and as an unpowered person, and Viktor found himself curious about the kind-hearted mechanic who defied the laws of physics with love. The two talked not just about engineering and science but about music, anime, their hobbies, and even their dreams. 

As their conversations continued, they found themselves growing even closer than friends - casual flirts slipped into their conversations as readily as they talked about anything else. Teasing and blushing became as commonplace in their time together as mentions of physics and mechanics.

Despite how their relationship was slowly changing, she was always comfortable in Viktor’s company. He made her feel understood, safe, and anchored. He had become her port in the storm. She felt like she was at home when she was with him and, with the way he finally seemed to take a full breath when she was around, he felt the same.

One day, after being called to the scene of an infernalization, she had a close call with a first-generation pyrokinetic, the woman mad with pain and lashing out at anything that moved. It had been Viktor who had tackled her to the ground, covering her smaller body with his own and protecting her as the fireball rocketed through the space she had once occupied.

The rest of the crew had made short work of putting the woman to rest but Iris’ prayers had fallen on ringing ears as their engineer realized how close she had come to an agonizing death. It had put into perspective how truly dangerous these situations were for unpowered people like her and Viktor. They didn’t have the same fire resistance or combat training that the other members of Company 8 did and the very real peril left her shaken, even after they had returned to the cathedral.

It had been Viktor who had pulled her away from the rest of their company, guiding her into his quiet room so he could wrap his arms around her and pull her into his warm embrace. Her arms looped around his waist, the engineer settling against his solid chest and pressing her ear against his heartbeat.

It was a few minutes before they spoke but she felt no pressure from him to do so. Instead of pushing her, he quietly held her and stroked her back, her anxiety slowly settling as she was calmed by the warm embrace of the man she had fallen in love with.

“How do you do it? Go running into that every day? You’re unpowered too, doesn’t it scare you?” she finally asked, breaking the silence between them.

“Of course it does,” Viktor chuckled, his laughter vibrating in his chest as he rested his cheek against her hair, “I never know if today is going to be the last day I spend on this earth. But it’s worth it knowing that I’m actually learning something real about the world; that I’m where I should be.”

His next words were a bit quieter but no less passionate as he hummed them against her hair. “It’s worth it knowing you’re at my side.”

Pulling back, she looked up at him in surprise, and he gazed down at her with that same crooked smile. She was struck by the tenderness in his eyes and by the warmth in his expression - an affection that he only ever showed her. In that moment, she knew that she was also where she should be. That it was all worth it to her too, knowing that he was by her side.

Meeting Viktor's smile with one of her own, she stood on the tips of her toes, pressing a brief but sweet kiss to his cheek.

When she returned to her heels, gazing up at him with a gentle smile spread across her face, he stared back down at her in stunned wonder. A blush dusted his cheeks, his lips parted and his eyes rounded in surprise.

“Thank you for always being there with me, Viktor,” she thanked, feeling more at ease in his arms than she had ever felt anywhere else.

At her words, his smile returned, the corners of his lips quirking up although his blush remained. Reaching up, he cupped her cheeks in his broad hands before leaning down to press his lips to hers. Gently moving his lips against hers, they shared a tender, lingering kiss.

Just when she thought she might forget how to breathe, her heart swelling in her chest and stealing the air from her lungs, he pulled away.

“Always,” Viktor promised as he pressed his forehead to hers, gazing into her eyes with a loving expression.

[youreacowgirllikeme]

Moments

Notes: I was a bit in the feels today, so here is some soft Chris fic nobody asked for, with a bit of angst thrown in. there may be some inaccuracies regarding the timeline, but this is fiction, so…enjoy

Warnings: swearing, slight angst

Your relationship has always been a funny one.

You’ve met three years ago when Chris was still working with you at New Day, the early mornings spent together, cracking bad jokes over the strongest coffee known to men had created a strange, but lasting sense of comradery between the two of you.

He has always been a bit of a flirt, but in a funny, nonchalant way, and there was that invisible line, that unspoken rule that the two of you would never do anything more than the occasional bantering and bickering. No feelings involved.

But still, there were the occasional moments that made you think, made you mentally recalibrate the relationship to someone you usually considered just a good friend.

The first one was on one of those early morning elevator rides, you were running late and just barely managed to sneak a hand between the closing doors. Chris was the only other occupant, nursing his coffee and snickering as he saw your slightly disheveled appearance.

“Doing some morning sport, Y/N?” he asked, and you just flipped him the bird.

“Feeling cheeky today, aren’t we?” he responded, and suddenly took a step in your direction, looking at you.

“You have a leaf in your hair.” He said, voice going oddly quiet, and then his hand reached out to pick the small green thing out of your tousled locks. Your scalp was prickling in a strange way and your heart gave a soft thump that you blamed entirely on still being slightly out of breath. Your eyes were locked with his, and for the first time you realized just what a mesmerizing shade of blue they were.

“Thank you.” You replied, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re welcome.” He murmured, eyes never leaving yours.

Then the mechanical voice of the elevator announced your arrival on the studio floor, and whatever spell there has been between you got broken by the opening doors.

“I’ll see you in the meeting room in five.” he said, and hurried out of the elevator to his office, leaving you behind trying to make sense of what just transpired between the two of you.

The situation was never brought up again, and nothing changed. You kept up your job as assistant producer, providing Chris and Alisyn with the content they needed to pull off a good show, and kept Chris ego from inflating too much with the occasional well-meant criticism or lighthearted teasing.

Then, the office Christmas party happened.

You had a blast, drinking eggnog and aimlessly swaying along to the shitty Christmas playlist some intern had put together.

Chris had brought a date, some woman you’ve never seen before. You were trying not to be annoyed by the obnoxious way she laughed about jokes Chris cracked, or how she clung to his arm like a blonde, perfumed kraken. You did your best to ignore the pair for most of the evening.

When the lady finally went to the bathroom, you approached Chris where he was leaning against a wall in a quieter corner of the office. The eggnog made you bold, so you cut right to the case.

“So, who’s blondie? Never seen her around before.” you tried your best to sound as normal as possible. “She almost died of laughter at that joke you made back there, it wasn’t even that funny.”

“Maybe she just has better humor than you.” Chris said, giving you a smirk.

“Ha, as if. You know my humor is superior.” You said, your voice coming out way louder than intended. You poked his chest with your index finger and stilled for a moment as you felt the steel hard muscle under his dress shirt. You knew he worked out, but that was new.

“Jesus, you’re drunk, Y/N.” Chris chuckled. Oh, he was going to enjoy the hell out of teasing you about this for the next weeks.

You just stared at him, trying to come up with some clever remark, but your brain felt fuzzy and funny, so you just stuck to “Shut up, Cuomo.”

He brought his face down a bit, so it was nearly on your level. He was close enough for you to get a whiff of his aftershave, he smelled heavenly.

“Hey, watch your mouth.” He said, and you weren’t sure if his tone was still teasing. You felt a blush forming on your face at the intense look he was giving you.

“Never will.” You shot back, struggling to keep your voice steady. Some strange energy was buzzing between the two of you, it was one of those moments where every outcome seemed possible.

“Chriiiis, come over, I wanna dance!”

And just like that, the moment was over, broken by the screech of Chris’s blonde side kick making her way over to you.

“Coming, just give me a moment.” He called back.

But you fled before he could say another word to you, the ugly emotion in your chest feeling a lot like jealousy now.

Blondie never showed up or was mentioned again, so you figured that whatever thing Chris had with her didn’t work out. You tried not to feel a small sense of satisfaction.

Chris, as expected, teased you mercilessly about your run-in with the eggnog, but never brought up the strange tension that sometimes was tangible when the two of you were alone together. You didn’t either and over time, it just dissolved, the two of you going back to the easy and carefree joking you were familiar with.

But sometimes, you were watching him from afar, and if you would’ve paid closer attention you would’ve noticed that he was watching you as well.

A few months later, Chris approached you during an ad break.

“Could you maybe drop by my office after we wrap it here? There’s something I need to discuss with you.” He sounded as serious as you’ve ever heard him, so you swallowed the inappropriate joke that was already on the tip of your tongue and just replied “Sure thing.” before he had to get back in front of the camera.

You tried to ignore the way your heart was fluttering when you walked down the corridor to his office after the show. It was just a chat with Chris, like you’ve already had a thousand times before, you told yourself as you tried to calm your nerves.

Except that it wasn’t.

“Prime Time? An hour, every day?” you exclaimed; excitement evident in your voice.

“Oh my God, Chris, I’m so thrilled for you, this is huge.”

Chris just beamed at you, full of pride and looking so happy that it was infectious.

“You are the first person I’m telling the news, Y/N, because I wanted to ask you to come with me and be executive producer. I can make some demands regarding certain positions, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I can’t imagine doing a show without that weird, brilliant brain of yours.” He grinned, and you couldn’t believe your ears.

“You want me to be your executive producer?” you asked, a bit choked up because of all the emotions you were feeling. You didn’t really know how to respond, so you just stepped forward and threw your arm around Chris. You were too short to properly reach around his bulky frame, but you just hugged him as tight as you could, pressing your head into his chest and just whispering “I’d be honored.”

You could feel large, strong arms embracing you, and heard Chris amused voice close to your ear.

“It’s a deal then.”

You let go of him and looked up into his face. He was smiling down at you, looking so genuinely happy that your stomach gave a little flip.

One of his large hands came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You didn’t move a muscle, praying that your face wouldn’t betray the excitement you felt at having him so close.

“I could not do this without you, Y/N, thank you for trusting me, and for your loyalty. It means the world.”

“Sure thing, Cuomo.” You whispered, and it took every ounce of self-control not to close the gap between your faces and just kiss him. No, you reminded yourself, you were colleagues, and the new show was too important to jeopardize it by letting pesky feelings get in the way. So, you took a step back, quickly collected yourself, and spoke with new confidence in your voice.

“So, when are you going to tell Alisyn?”

Cuomo Prime Time was a huge success. Chris thrived on being able to plan his own show, picking out the content and guests with much more freedom than he had at New Day. Seeing him so in his element made you happy as well, and the new degree of responsibility was much less scary with him by your side. He was a confident, reliable and steady presence in the studio, and you felt like your friendship only grew stronger during the intense discussions you had while planning the next show.

Unfortunately, your crush grew as well. You’ve always been aware that Chris was smart, and a dedicated journalist on top, but being the anchor for his own show brought a more mature and sincere side out in him. He really poured his heart into the show, and yours was a little more his with each day.

You cheered for him after a he gave a successful interview, calmed him down when a guest had been particularly vile and untruthful and comforted him when right-wing nut jobs dragged him on social media, because you knew how much that got to him, even if he would never admit it.

Then, January 6th happened. Hell broke loose in Washington DC, and your team was on it the second the extent of the insurrection became known. You planned a special edition of Prime Time in light speed, and Chris was on fire, on camera as well as behind the scenes. He called on all his background contacts, gathering as much insider information as he could.

When it was announced that Trump would be impeached for the second time, Chris got into it with so much dedication and vigor that it got you slightly worried. He would spend all his time in the studio, on the phone, writing mails, tweeting, barely sleeping.

You tried to talk him into going home more than once, but he just dismissed you.

He spent the days of the impeachment trial basically living in the CNN building, the time he wasn’t on air his eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every debate that was held on the senate floor, cursing Trumps lawyers and the GOP members defending him with so much fury that you almost got scared. As it became clearer and clearer that the trial would result in an acquittal, your worry about how Chris would handle the outcome grew. And rightly so.

The acquittal was announced, and he was furious, slamming his fist on his desk and throwing his CNN mug across the room where it shattered into a hundred little pieces on the opposite wall. You had never seen Chris like that, and while it terrified you how he was behaving, you knew that you could not leave him to his own devices now.

“Damn it, go home, Y/N, I need to be alone!” He snapped at you. You flinched at his harsh words but did not back down.

“Forget it, Cuomo, you need a friend now.” You said, resolute, carefully approaching him from behind at his desk, putting your hand on his shoulders and applying some comforting pressure. But he shook you off and turned around in his chair to look at you, tension, anger and sadness coming off him in waves.

“I said.” He swallowed, his voice almost giving out. “Leave me alone.” And then he broke down, burying his face in his hands while dry, angry sobs shook his whole body. Seeing that strong, controlled man like this felt like a punch to the gut, and you carefully kneeled before him. You put your arms around his body and just held him while all the tension from the last days, even weeks, fell off. It was this moment when you realized the full extent of your emotions for Chris. There was just nothing you wouldn´t do to make sure he would never feel like this again.

When he finally calmed down and raised his head, you took his face between your hands, put your forehead against his and looked him deep in the eyes.

“They will be held accountable, I promise you. We’re going to do what we do best, we get after it and we are going to show the American people the truth.” You said, voice full of passion and conviction.

His eyes were still looking lost, but his face hardened, and he gave a single, sharp nod.

“We will. Those fuckers better get ready, because I will drag every single one of them into the light. They will not get away with that.”

“That’s the spirit I want to see.” You said, giving him a small smile.

Your hands were still on his face, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move them away just yet. He still looked so vulnerable, and you slowly began to brush your thumb over his cheek.

He closed his eyes and he leaned into your touch like a cat. Seeing him like this made your heart almost jump out of your throat, you really were head over heels for him.

He was at peace for a moment, and you unconsciously leant forward until your noses were almost touching. Now was the right moment, you thought, now you would finally go for it.

But then he opened his eyes again, and they went hard as he saw how close you were. He pushed your hands away and you could feel his walls going up, shutting you out.

“What do you think you are doing.” He barked. “I don’t need a pity party, I can handle myself.” His words felt like a slap to the face, there was no sign of the man that you held in your arms some minutes ago. You felt the sting of tears in your eyes and stoop up from the floor, bringing some distance between you and Chris.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” you asked in a quiet voice. You didn’t want to scream, because if you got yourself worked up the tears would start to fall. And there was no way he would see you crying, not now. “I was just trying to help you and be there for you.”

He gave a small, humorless laugh. There was no warmth in his eyes anymore, and you felt like you might be sick at the look he was giving you.

“Like I said, I don’t need pity, or anything else from you right now, so how about you finally leave me alone, Y/N?”

He turned his back to you, the dismissal evident in his posture.

“Chris?” you tried, but he wasn’t answering. You started to get angry, and with the anger the tears started to fall. You were almost glad he wasn’t looking at you.

“Fine, go fuck yourself then. I was trying to help, I thought we had something there…” your voice gave out with a choked sound, and you fled the office before totally breaking down in front of him.

You cried all the way home, and even there the tears didn’t stop. It hurt, more than you could’ve imagined, and even though you tried your best to distract yourself, your mind always wandered back to the way he had pushed your hands away and the harsh tone of his voice as he told you to leave him alone.

Above all, you were angry at yourself for developing feelings for him in the first place. He was complicated, and proud, and your gut had told you from the very beginning that it wasn’t a good idea to get too close. That you would just end up getting hurt. You should have listened.

You were ripped out of your thoughts by the sound of your doorbell, followed by a series of sharp knocks against the door of your apartment.

“Y/N!”

It was Chris. What the hell was he doing here?

You quickly dried your eyes and made your way over to the door. You already were in your pajamas but didn’t care. It wasn’t as if you owed the guy anything.

You opened the door forcefully, anger slowly taking over. How dared he just show up here after treating you this way?

But your resolve crumbled as you took in Chris’ appearance.

He looked like shit. His suit was wrinkled, and there were bags under his bloodshot eyes. He looked like he’d been crying.

“What is it, Chris?” you said, your voice not betraying the emotional turmoil you were in. You felt anger, sadness, worry and hurt at the same time, but there also was a glimpse of hopefulness, because there had to be a reason Chris came all the way to your apartment that late in the evening.

“Y/N.” he began, and you almost started crying again at how lost he sounded.

“I am so monumentally sorry. I fucked up big time with how I treated you back there, I was so angry and confused, but that’s no excuse for the way I acted. I just wanted to let you know how deeply sorry I am, and I just hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

He looked like a kicked puppy, and your heart hurt seeing him like this. But still, you had to address the elephant in the room. Because there was no way he hadn’t noticed what you were about to do back in his office. He was no fool, and he owed you at least a talk about it.

“Chris, I forgive you.” You said, and he breathed out on relief.

“But we have to talk about what happened. You knew what I was about to do. And I am sorry if I read too much into your behavior towards me, I just really thought we were having a moment. But the way you reacted, the way you looked at me like you did…it is totally okay if you don’t feel the same way for me, but do you really hate the idea of us that much that you had to look at me as if you were disgusted by me? I thought we were at least friends.” You stopped as you felt your voice starting to break again. Saying this out loud hurt so much, you just wanted to go back to your bed and cry some more.

Chris looked like someone had punched him in the face.

“Oh no, no shit, please Y/N-” He paused, rubbing his face with his hands in exasperation.

“I thought you were just taking pity on me.” He said in a small voice you had never heard from him before. “Jesus, Y/N, I am an angry, bitter man. And I am much older than you. I never saw a chance for us, but I’m selfish, so I kept you close. You are way too good for me, and I didn’t want to have a moment with you only for you to realize how messed up I am afterwards. I never even thought about the possibility of you feeling the same way.”

He sounded as if he still couldn’t believe it.

You just stared at Chris. His hands were fidgeting, he looked so nervous and hopeful, and your heart was soaring, the force of your feelings for him almost overwhelming you.

“God, Cuomo, you are such a damn idiot.”

And with that, you threw yourself into his arms and kissed him. He responded right away, embracing you and holding you so close to his chest that you could feel his racing heartbeat. His lips were warm and soft, and his body fit into yours as if you were made for each other. It felt wonderful and goosebumps were breaking out all over your body as Chris tilted his head to deepen the kiss, his tongue slowly sliding across your bottom lip.

You never wanted to let go, but you were still standing in the hallway in front of your apartment, and you were wearing your pajamas.

You reluctantly broke the kiss, but Chris cupped your jaw and drew you close for another one, short and sweet this time.

“I can’t just stop after finally getting what I want.” He said softly.

Your heart gave a little jump at his words, and you pressed another kiss to his lips.

“You can get as many of them as you want but come inside first. I don’t want my neighbors to see me like this.”

“I actually think your sleepwear is pretty cute. Pink, I like it.”

You smacked his arm in a playful manner and when he smiled back at you, everything felt right in the world.

[chrjiho]

when: december 31st, 2018 where: amsterdam, netherlands who: @winterlost

he doesn’t do things like this.

he awoke four days before the new year discontent and with a mind running rampant with dreams of other places, of different scenery, sick of the same four walls and the same route to and from work, the same cracks in the sidewalk and weight of his keys in his hand. amsterdam. he doesn’t know why it came to him so suddenly, never a place he thought of visiting, never on his invisible repertoire of ‘maybe someday’ vacations but the tickets were surprisingly cheap and before he could call his boss or talk himself out of it he bought them. nonrefundable. sometimes life forces you to make your own fate, and the two days following the purchase he stopped sleeping.

he packed slowly, paced a lot, smoked two packs of cigarettes and overthought until his brain turned to television static. twenty-six was stifling him. he couldn’t breath, dragged down to the bottom of his twenties with cement shoes. he was approaching thirty and didn’t have a degree, worked long hours behind a bar and slept through the day. he ate takeout day in and day out, no pet, no partner, no kids, nothing. enlistment was buried underground, hands pounding against the dirt, breaking through and reaching for his ankles. he didn’t feel like an adult, didn’t feel accomplished, he could taste hysteria. 

so... amsterdam.

seoul was covered in ice as he left, suitcase packed for an indeterminate amount of time dragged behind him, catching snow and dirt, face ice bitten and red, taxi humming with low music that sounded familiar to his ears but he couldn’t place where he knew it from. traveling alone before the new year, two weeks after his birthday. what a fucking loser.

then he was there, suitcase open somewhere in his hotel room, things scattered about, bedside lamp likely left on, bed half-made. he wandered new streets on new years eve, snow crusted benches and architecture, tall, beautiful buildings and rivers frozen over. he could imagine the gondolas in summer, bustling with life, but now it was surprisingly quiet for the occasion, almost as if in another dimension with the way the streets whistled with cold air, occasional pairs of couples and friends laughing, bundled in heaps of clothes, drunk, arms slung over each others shoulders. it was freezing. 

‘ why am i here? ‘ he wonders, his phone left behind with missed calls from work and friends wondering where he is, gone without a word. it’s already the new year in korea, he missed it. ‘ i don’t do this, this isn’t me. ‘ and still he wanders farther and farther, no sense of direction, no end destination in mind. he didn’t look up things to do before he came, he doesn’t know where he is or what he’s looking for. snow clings to his clothes, layers upon layers, ears covered in a beanie, glasses sliding down his nose, flushed red and sniffling. 

why here?

his eyes catch on a large clock on the outside of a building -- eleven o’clock, the countdown to the new year creeping up, and still, he was alone. 

he sees the outside of a hole-in-the-wall bar, the lights outside yellow and dim, a sign that says “ start the new year with a drink ! “ in english with what he assumes is the dutch translation underneath. 

when he opens the door he’s met with a blast of heat, the air inside that of a fireplace, the few patrons sat at lone tables giggling and cheering, downing shots and leaning close. he sits at the bar top, peeling off two layers of jackets and his beanie, left comfortable in a long-sleeve black shirt and jeans, big boots. he orders something strong, whisky -- good for the soul. the first sip runs through his chest, an empty stomach, hoping to be plastered well into the new year, if nothing else to quell the loneliness. he left his friends, the parties he was invited to, the pretty girl he barely knew that he was sure would accept a new years kiss, the comradery, all of it behind to be alone in an unfamiliar place. they were all waking the day after now, fresh into the new year. without him.

he asks again, ‘ why am i here? ’

there comes a sensation like a chill, run fresh down his spine and he turns his head, eyes catching on a girl sat by herself a few stools away. for a moment he can’t look away, studying her, she looks korean too and for some reason that’s enough to be comforting, to quell something. he hesitates a moment, shifting in his seat, debating, bottom lip caught between teeth for a moment when in korean, embarrassingly hopeful, he says, “ hi, sorry, are... are you waiting on someone? “

[space-wizards-in-space]

Us Against The Galaxy

Armitage Hux x Reader

{wordcount} 2.4k

A/N: this is very self-indulgent because Hux got done dirty but that’s not gonna stop me from slutting around for him lmao

Summary: An Admiral in the First Order and its demoted General had always lived in a prison, just not noticing until now.

(ROS spoilers below the cut)

The entire ship shook as you sprinted down the halls to the bridge. The bridge where your general’s body came into view as you rounded the corner. You slipped onto your knees as you frantically checked him over, noticing the blaster burns in his abdomen. Your mind raced as you checked the general for a pulse. It was faint, but still there.

“Come on we have to get you out of here,” The ship shook again as you looped your arms under his own, dragging his dead weight down the debris ridden halls. You could feel the air getting hotter as you approached a fire. You pulled as hard as you could to get to the escape pods, the whole ship beginning to be more at an incline. That couldn’t be good. You tried to speed up your pace but as a simple admiral, you didn't receive that training to build your strength as the troopers did. Now, you were only fueled by pure adrenaline and the need to survive, because within minutes this ship was going down and taking you and the General with it.

“Come on!” You heaved out, pulling with all your strength as the new incline grew. The pods were in view, but your time was running out. The loud croaking of the ship’s durasteel bending and popping grew louder and you felt the tears of fear and frustration begin to spring into your eyes. You managed to push Hux into a pod and grabbed onto the edge of it as the ship suddenly tipped, sending debris and droids past you. You tried to pull yourself up, yelling in frustration as your grip began to slip. You didn't care if you got in at this point, you just needed that pod to leave, or else all this work would have been for nothing.

You strained as your muscles ached for rest but in letting go, you’d be sent down the hall that was not vertical as the ship began to plunge. Suddenly a pair of arms from inside the pod reached and grabbed your own, pulling you upwards. You didn’t have enough time to acknowledge your saviour as you could finally get enough grip to hoist yourself in, reaching for the pod to eject itself. The doors quickly hissed shut and you were roughly thrown into the wall as the pod thrust itself outward and you watched as the burning Star Destroyers you once lived and worked on became smaller and smaller until you left the battle, and the planet completely. The only thing now visible was the small speck of fire of the Empire you watched rise, and you were now watching burn to the ground.

“I used to care so much…” A voice croaked from behind you, causing you to draw your attention to the reason you were even here. Hux. He was sitting on the floor of the small vessel, head resting on the wall behind him as his gaze was also on the firey battle from the viewport of the pod. You quickly scooted over him to survey his injuries. You were no doctor, but he had indeed been shot.

“You need bacta.” You stated and quickly found a med-pack, opening it and taking out the stims, bandages, and bacta canisters in it. “I need to take off your shirt.” You stated sternly as you turned back to Hux. He sat there, looking at you as he took in shallow breaths.

“I can handle myself.” He snapped weakly and furrowed his brows. Stubborn as ever. He was Hux after all.

“This is not about handling yourself,” You stated as you unbuttoned it anyway, knowing he was just too weak to protest. “You will die if you don’t let me do this.” You pulled up his undershirt to reveal a layer of a plastoid chest plate that had been charred through. No wonder he survived. You huffed out a laugh in disbelief, but you missed Armitage’s own rare half-smile at his own resourcefulness. He always planned ahead.

You sprayed bacta on the wound and he hissed at the sudden cold and wet feeling on his skin, his hand instinctively going to grip your sleeve. You glanced up to him, the short second of eye contact very much like the looks you would exchange at work on the bridge. That look of comradery and awareness.

Weeks ago, he spilt the information to you. That he was the leak. You knew he originally wasn’t planning to, but now you’re glad he did.

“Don’t you see, (Y/N)?” Hux looked unkept, unusual for him. “It’s me. I’m the leak!” Your heart skipped and you froze. It all made sense now, and with Armitage practically falling apart in front of you, your heart broke for him. Your silence began to make him nervous as he looked at you with a hopeless expression. “Please… say something.” You opened your mouth and then closed it. Your heartbeat rapidly in your chest as you processed the information.

“Armitage…” You began quietly. “When I was a child I dreamed of fighting for peace and justice and… and order…” Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt the lump in your throat grow. You stepped towards the man and you shook your head. “I envied what the Empire built and had wrongfully taken away. When the First Order established itself as the new Empire, it didn’t feel right. No matter how much I tried to convince myself, I knew that this was not the Empire. It will never be the Empire.” Armitage straightened up at this, his red-rimmed eyes and unusually unkempt hair making him look rather mad. “I didn’t understand before. But now I do. And now I refused to sit idly by as what we helped build is overrun by children wanting to play a game of war out of spite.” You gritted your teeth. “The First Order…” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head before you look to Armitage, who’s now closer to you than before. “It died long ago. I think it’s time we let it die for good.” Saying the words out loud made everything all the more real, your eyes dripping with hot tears. You weren’t sure if they were of anger or frustration or sadness. The silence in the room hung for too long as you watched Armitage’s face contort from one of confusion, into realisation, into relief. You were always someone he trusted since the academy. You grew up together, drifting apart in your adult years until more recently when the two of you were stationed together, Hux being demoted and tossed about like a rag doll, and you being constantly pushed aside and dismissed.

The look of understanding was there, and as he stood only a foot or two away, you realised that it was now the two of you against the Galaxy. No one was on your side except each other. In a way, you were okay with that, just knowing it was Armitage, and he never said it, but the feeling was mutual. It felt nice to put his trust in someone, although it took some work to get to the point where the two of you were. Vulnerable and teary-eyed, standing in front of each other with the knowledge that your lives are going to change soon, and they’ll never be the same.

“Armitage,” You spoke softly now as you stepped forward and placed a bare hand on his cheek. He leaned slightly into the touch and you smiled sadly. “There is no way we can stay and survive,” Your face grew serious. “We have to leave.”

He gently grabbed your hand, furrowing his brows as he played with your fingers.

“This is a life we can’t run from. It’d only be a matter of time before we are found and captured.”

“Then let’s make the most of the freedom we have while we have it.” You looked to him, just now realising how close you were, your faces mere inches from each other, but you continued to search his eyes, seeing the conflict in his gaze. “Tij…” You whispered. His lips pressed into a thin line and he began to back off. Your heart fell as he let go of your hand, shaking his head.

“You’re asking me to leave all I have worked for.”

“For your own safety- Armitage they’ll kill you!” He paused, a silence falling over the room before he spoke again.

“And only then will I truly be free.”

You finished wrapping the bandages and looked up to see Hux’s gaze on you. You pointed outside a viewport of a shuttle, a look of fear on your face.

“Maker, it’s Kylo Ren!” You exclaimed and watched as he followed your gaze out the viewport and quickly injected him with a stim, causing him to whine.

“That was unnecessary.” He grumbled.

“Yeah but the fact that you fell for it was the true pay-off.” You pulled his shirt back down and began to button his thick black tunic, but his hand stopped you. You looked up to him and saw the look of apprehension on his face, the furrowed brows and tight lip, you knew it well. But he looked down to his uniform and threw off the belt and the coat with it. He gently grabbed at the sleeve of your own uniform, rubbing the rank that you once wore so proudly, but now meant nothing.

“We won’t be needing these… anymore.” He spoke softly, the loss evident in his voice. You simply nodded and took off your leather gloves and your jacket, throwing it in the same corner where Hux’s own uniform resided. Now only wearing a black long sleeve undershirt, you undid your normally pristine hair, letting it down from its tight low bun.

You sighed, moving slowly to sit next to where Hux leaned. He started to regain colour in his face, proof the bacta was working. You turned to look at him.

“Thank you…” You mumbled. “You saved my life back there.” He laughed. It was short but still appreciated as you know the sound was hard to come by.

“You dragged me from the bridge through a burning ship to an escape pod, got us both out of here, dressed my almost fatal wound, and I am the one to thank?”

You shook your head. “Let’s just settle on a team effort.” You softly spoke and a comfortable silence fell through the cabin. You stood, your muscles aching from their earlier strain but you persisted to the navigation pad. “So… where to?” You looked through the map, the holo expanding in front of you, picturing hundreds of destinations from the outer rim to the core worlds.

“For the love of god, somewhere quiet, please,” Hux said dramatically and you huffed out a laugh.

“How about Lah’mu?” You read.

“Never heard of it.” He mumbled.

“I’d take that as a good thing.” You set a course for the aforementioned planet and the thrusters boost, the computers calculating a route to a hyperspeed lane, until then, you sat once again with Hux. The silence was comfortable, and you were tired. Your head slowly dropped to his shoulder and you felt the man tense, but it just made you smile.

After a while, he relaxed completely, but you had long since fallen asleep. Hux’s own head found its way to rest on top of yours as he slowly laced his fingers with yours. It was nice to feel contact that wasn’t aggressive and angry. It was refreshing.

The two of you were awoken to the pod roughly landing, you jumping as your hand once connected to Hux’s flew to your blaster out of instinct. Armitage winced, mostly from his injuries but to say the loss of your warmth didn’t affect him would be a blatant lie. The doors of the pod automatically opened and you were greeted with cold, damp air. Your confusion quickly wore off as you helped Armitage to his feet slowly, slinging his arm around you as you limped out, stepping onto the tall grass of the field you happened to land in.

You hadn’t felt grass in so long.

The tears didn’t take long to make their way to your eyes, a wide smile pulling at your lips. You wanted to run and jump around, cheering and hollering, but all you could do was slowly walk and look out to the rolling hills and grassy fields.

You turned back to Armitage and saw something you could never say you had seen before on his face.

Hope.

And his gaze wasn’t out on the land before him. It was on you.

You walked slowly to him using the pod to support his weight.

“So, what do you think?” You said, not even trying to contain the happiness on his face.

“This…” He nodded. “I think this is what freedom feels like.” He reached a weak hand to your face, rubbing your cheekbone as you had done for him weeks before. He took a weak step forward, limping but still standing as he rested his other hand on the other side of your face. The proximity of your faces was the same as it was before, but you had to remind yourself that there was no more danger. Nothing else to be worried about. And you were sure he was reminding himself as well. “I could get used to it.” He whispers now, his breath reaching your lips due to the short distance between the two of you, and it feels like his voice is all you can hear. His face is all you can see. And his hands are all you can feel.

You decide to close the gap first, your arms snaking up his chest as you grasp at his undershirt, pulling him as close as humanly possible.  Your lips mould together like two puzzle pieces, finishing a puzzle that took years and years to build. 

When you pulled away, which you eventually had to do, his face wasn’t grim. It was like looking at a different person than the one you knew from the First Order. His eyes were bright, and the smile on his face grew wide. You could feel the relief rolling off him in waves. His battles were over. And though, light years away, the war had just been won by the side the two of you sought to destroy for years on end, you felt nothing but victorious.

After all, it was you two against the galaxy, and you had finally come out on top.

[marshmallowprotection]

TUT thank you! Then could i request Saeran, Saeyoung, and Vanderwood reacting to meeting a scared child alter? Theyre scared of saying whats going on without being asked, but they have a hard time acting normal, and any "adult" situations theyre used to mc being okay with scare them. Like flirting, or substances like alcohol or smoking? Maybe the child alter can still feel kind of comfortable with them though, like theyre okay with being held so long as its obviously not romantic or sexual?

Warning for those who are triggered by mentions of DID, alters, systems, or any of the sort.

Saeran 

Saeran knew that you had very similar struggles to him, he saw it when he was looking for the perfect candidate. He saw something in your eyes that felt akin to him and once he picked you there was no going back. He empathizes greatly with people who had gone through something not so great, and he finds a sense of comradery and comfort in the notion that you understand him unlike anyone else. 

That’s just why he latched on so hard. It started to become more frequent, your switches, after you had left Magenta. It wasn’t much of a surprise, that place was very stressful and could make anyone uneasy and unsure of themselves. He knew it all too well. 

One morning, in particular, he got up and left the room to go and check on the status of work with C&R, but when he came back, something seemed off about the situation. By now, it would have been routine for you to get up with him and start breakfast. Instead, your body was turned away from him on the couch and your knees were tucked close to your body. 

He tried to prompt you, by calling your name, but you didn’t look back at him or say anything. That seems really out of the ordinary. He tried once again, but shoulders only seemed to tense and the tension grew. Now, he knew that from personal experience that this might have been another member of your system that he hadn’t met. 

Saeran gives some physical space to the child alter and makes sure that he’s not invading their comfort zone. 

So, he takes a seat a bit away from them because hey, if you didn’t know where you were or if you don’t know who somebody was, of course, it would be scary! He’s incredibly gentle, and he doesn’t rush them to answer him, he slowly starts to prompt them with questions about what’s bothering them, and if they feel okay. 

The child opens up, but only after Saeran has diffused some of their fears for the moment. They were really struggling with everything that you were dealing with, too, and they really don’t have the capacity to keep up any charade that they’re you. 

Ray is a lot like this child during his moments of dread and panic, so, Saeran knows how Ray would want to be treated, so he acts with that thought in mind. First and foremost, he makes a point of trying to empathize with the child and discern how they can make things better. 

He doesn’t rush them to like him, that’s not what he’s worried about, he wants them to know that they’re safe and that he’s a trustworthy person that they can ask for help if they need help. They’re a kid, and kids have their own comfort levels. All he does is offer to try activities or help them procure things that can make them more comfortable... if they need a blanket, a plush, or anything of that regard, he’ll be the first to offer to go and get it. He asks with the same urgency that he would have hoped to receive when he was a kid. 

Y’know, thank goodness that he’s so good at baking because there’s nothing that kids want more than something sweet. 

He usually tries to lift the child’s spirit by offering them something that he’s made. Saeran is very doting and sincere, and he pushes everything aside to ensure that they’re feeling okay. He asks a lot of questions to ensure that they’re comfortable, and he never does anything without asking first. Whatever they want, he’ll do what he can. If they feel comfortable enough with him to ask for a hug, he’ll be happy to provide it. 

Saeran really wants your system to trust him, but he knows that it’s going to take time, and he wants to understand how to help not only you but your alters, your littles, so on and so forth.

Saeyoung

Saeyoung knew after going through your medical records that you had a lot going on, he didn’t read too far into it, he just skimmed a bit briefly to see since the file was rather large compared to some of your other information. He never brought It up himself, he waited for you to feel comfortable enough with him or even the others to talk about it. Being with the RFA wasn’t always the easiest thing in the world, and he figured that you had to settle into this weird new normal of yours. 

It isn’t really until later after you’ve started being around each other more often in person that he meets more of your system, but he understands that not all of them will be approving of him or like him at first, and he’s got to work with them too since they’re with you and anything they’re struggling with, your entire system is going to have a hard time with. 

He’s working on something, tinkering away at his desk on some pieces parts for one of his robots. 

You’re supposed to be behind him or in the other room playing on your phone or speaking with the rest of the RFA in the chatroom since it’s the peak time of day for everyone to be online. He gets a text from one of the others that you had stopped responding in the chat after something was brought up and the others were a bit concerned. 

Saeyoung set his things aside and went to go and check on you just in case something was really wrong and you just hadn’t gotten distracted making lunch or something. He found your body sitting on the kitchen floor, your lips pursed and hands nervously fiddled with the fabric of your hoodie. It seems a bit odd, but he can’t be sure what’s up unless you say something to him.

His instinct is to ask you what’s wrong and after a brief moment of silence, in a quiet voice, the child alter speaks up and tells him that they’re upset. He doesn’t know what upset them, but he knows that it must have been something big for them because their body is tense. It’s clearly not you right now but he’s not sure who they are, he still makes a point of sitting down next to them, not too close as to not startle them. 

After some gentle probing here and there, he discerns that the conversation in the chat had bordered on something that really wasn’t comfortable for them, and they got overwhelmed and had to leave. He does his best to make them feel better once he’s got a better grasp on what happened to them back there, and he plays up his goofy persona since it seems to make them laugh a little bit and perk up. 

Saeyoung understands that they’re just a child, and they have different comforts than you do. They need a different kind of reassurance to feel like they’re safe and everything. He takes to them like he did with Saeran, and he does with them what he would do with his little brother, he would try to make them laugh, try to remind them that things are okay even when they feel scary, and just generally all-around try to ensure their safety. 

His approach is to act goofy and make them smile, what he would do with any other upset child, honestly. He does his best to make them feel better when they’re afraid, and although he may make a few boundary mistakes every now and again on accident, Saeyoung is trying. With the child, he’s guilty of trying to spoil them with presents and things that make them feel more at home in his bunker. 

He would make any changes and do whatever it took to ensure that all of your system felt safe with him, especially the more vulnerable alters that need a bit of extra care. 

Vanderwood

Vanderwood has been around countless people in their life and there’s nothing that they aren’t surprised about. 

They’ve seen that, they’ve done this, and there is nothing that they can’t handle. Well, that’s what they think until you come into their life and make a whirlwind of sorts that they find themself juxtaposed into a life change unlike any other. One minute they’re forever stuck being an agent until somebody came around and took care of them, and the next, they’re free from that life forever. 

You’re always a surprise to them. There’s just so much about you that they can’t read or truly understand. That’s a good thing, they’re used to being able to read anybody, but you’re special, you’re that puzzle that takes forever to be solved because it’s so tricky. They’re not the best person to know what to do all of the time, though, they’re prone to mistakes, they’re human too. 

Vanderwood is pretty much used to being around you but not around your system. They haven’t come out much when they're around and if they have, Vanderwood hasn’t noticed per se. They know that it’s likely that it’s happened but they haven’t made themselves known to Vanderwood yet, so, the agent hasn’t yet directly spoken to any.

At least, until today that is. 

So much had been happening lately to not only them but you as well, and it was increasingly obvious that it was not only distressing you but others in your system as well. 

Your actions as of the last hour or so had let them know that something was a miss. Now, Vanderwood isn’t known for being soft or reassuring, when they see that your body’s eyes are covered in tears, that’s about all that it takes for them to want to help. 

Vanderwood first takes the steps to understand what the problem was and their tone was a little brash which may not help things at first but after the child understands that Vanderwood is just like that, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue. 

Vanderwood tries to adjust accordingly to what is comfortable for the child but hey, it’s not always like they do the right thing, but they’re doing their best to mind what you may have mentioned to them in the past when in regards to helping your system feel safe. The easiest thing that they know how to do is hand them their plush or their comfort device to try and make things seem less disorienting. 

The child is treated with care and respect, very unlike the way that they treated Seven if that’s something you may have been worried about. Vanderwood may be a little rough around the edges but that doesn’t mean they can’t be nice to children. It’s kind of goofy when you come back from the switch and haven’t been close enough to front to know what’s been happening and the child has gotten Vanderwood to do something that they wouldn’t have done otherwise, like, tea. 

[thatfunkylesbianwriter]

Soft - DBH

This is a Good one, only slight angst lol. Its based on one of my favorite poems by John Keats

AO3

Pairing: Markus/Simon

Words: 1859

Warnings: Simon has anxiety 

------

If you ask around New Jericho, you’ll learn that people found Markus to be the image of strength and will. If you dug a little more, they’d also say he was surprisingly gentle. His words never cut or pushed them around, they were guiding nudges towards the right direction that inspired people to do the best they could and become the best version of themselves.

It wasn’t surprising that Simon tended to gravitate to the android leader. The caretaker android was gentle in words and actions, but his self-doubt clouded any intention of making a better, safer life for the androids that came to Jericho when it was young. He hated himself for it, but the risk of setting up his people up to fail was too much. When Markus arrived, everything changed. He gave off this bright aura that made Simon brave. He wanted to take action with the android, help him in his journey to free their people. The old leader dared to say that he had hope for the future of his people, despite the cold and cruel world deviants were born into.

That was months ago and Simon looked on a new world for androids and humans with a warm heart. He had helped Markus achieve what he one time called impossible and went through hell for it. If you ask him, he’d do it again in a heartbeat for his leader.

That determination and undying loyalty arose one day when Markus called him, asking for his company. These meetings weren’t strange for the two androids; in fact, Simon always looked forward to them. Markus always had something to do with human officials and politics, effectively taking him away from the little group they’d formed at Jericho.

It was fall again as Simon walked through the downtown streets of Detroit, the city quiet and still. Some humans had come back to stay in the city, but it was no longer the bustling and chaotic metropolis that it once was. Simon found he liked it this way better, the peace and calm.

As he approached his destination, he could see Markus’s figure standing tall in the plaza. Simon was overtaken for just a moment by his thirium pump regulator as it started to work faster, stopping just a few yards away. This wasn’t strange, either, for the android when he was with the leader; before he called the causes >--/admiration/--< and underlying >--/fear/--< when the Revolution was happening. Now, >--/nervousness/--< and something much warmer caused Simon’s regulator to speed up and make his systems whirl and fidget while he was around Markus.

Once the warning in his system passed, Simon continued on his way towards his friend—

>--/error/--/...searching.../--/companion/--<

Markus probably sensed someone approaching him as he turned around to face him with a smile broad as the sky. Every single time the two androids saw each other, they hugged, and Simon lived for these moments.

>--/Security/--/Relief/--/Joy/--/Lo/--/error/--<

Markus’s hug might have been brief but it lingered on Simon’s skin, ghosting his shoulders with static electricity, as they started to walk side by side. The leader might have been a man of few words to some, always contemplating what he said next, but with the caretaker android, he could literally not shut up.

He talked about anything and everything with Simon, new laws that were in pending for android rights, the turbulent effects of the environment, paintings and sculptures he was planning, even the various animals and pets he had the pleasure of meeting. His words were colorful and excited, the mismatched eyes bright in the rising sunlight. To Simon, he was the most… >--/...searching.../--/exquisite/--< person he had ever met.

“How have you been, Simon? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in ages,” Markus was beaming at the android and Simon’s hands twitched at how he said his name with such fondness.

>--/error/--/ve/--<

They sat on a park bench, Simon, with his hands in his lap, and hyper-aware of the right hand that rested across the back of the seat from Markus and near the middle of his shoulder blades with his left foot propped up on his knee. The android rarely sat so casually; his reputation and image meant a great deal to him if he was to be the leader of all androids. A part of Simon burned with satisfaction that Markus was comfortable enough to relax in his presence. But in this close proximity, his pump regulator picked back up again and caused the poor android to wring his hands and pick at the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

“Good, good,” he managed to say, thirium moving fast and hot in his veins, “I’ve been, um, reading… books.”

Markus gave him a look and replied with a teasing voice, “Books, you say? They must be very interesting, Simon.”

The android let out a shaky breath and forced out a cough to cover it up, flicking his eyes away from his companion’s smiling face. It was like he was intentionally trying to make Simon overheat with how he said his name like he was the only one in the world that actually mattered.

“Yes! Uh, I mean yes, ” Simon coughed again and looked to the trees above him and hoped their ways of rooting into the earth would help him stay grounded, “Josh recommended some poetry books to me and I find the Romantics to be the most interesting so far.”

Markus hummed in approval and something swelled within Simon, >--/L--/error/--ve/--<. “I used to read a selection of them to Carl when he was painting in his workshop, especially when he was doing nature scenes. Please, tell me, who’s your favorite so far?”

The question made him retreat into his mind and search the files of poetry that he kept saved, trying to find the right one. In reality, Simon had spent hours upon hours just reading in the library because the humans were right, there was nothing like holding a real book in your hands. He would start in the morning and by night, he’d be surrounded by a fortress of stacked books of various lengths and genre. When Josh did recommend the selected poems of Romantics that he once taught in his classroom, Simon could not stop going through the volumes he could find and resources online. He was nose deep in a massive collection of William Blake in lieu of his daily cleaning ritual.

>--/...searching.../--/file located/--<

Before saying anything, Simon took his counterpart in little by little. Markus was tilted towards Simon now, his knee coming up on the bench and just barely touching the side of his thigh with the leg stretched out. Hip to shoulder, neck to chin, lips to nose, Simon slid his eyes along the android until he reached his eyes, daring to look his green one.

>--/beautiful/--/lovely/--/always/--/always him/--<

He fidgeted, a lump catching in his throat. Simon had waited too long for this moment, self-doubt had sown the idea that his bond with Markus was only that of comradery in a time of panic. That Markus couldn’t look at him without remembering all those deviants that died for the cause and was left with a weak android he had to visit from time to time out of guilt. These thoughts had played with Simon’s head for months and he couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t believe them with Markus looking at him with undivided attention.

>--/love/----/i love i love i love/--/him/--/i love him/--/i love him/--/i love him/--<

Holding out a hand, Simon felt the familiar burn of bravery pushed his words forth, “I’d rather show you, if that’s alright?”

Something flashed across the android’s face, too fast for Simon to really understand it. The hand that rested behind him rose, brushing ever so slightly against the back of his neck, before coming in front of the two men. As their hands approached, the synthetic skin retreated and started to glow a faint blue, getting brighter and brighter as they closed the distance-

<<--/Markus/--/surprise/--/amusement/--/fondness/-->>

Simon couldn’t breath; he was drowning in him, falling deeper into that beautiful mind. Markus changed his grip on his companion’s hand, tucking Simon’s hand into his own and ran soothing circles over the knuckles. <<--/Encouragement/-->> passed from Markus and all Simon could do was focus on their conjoined hands as he accessed the file.

>>--/Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art— Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night/--<< >>--/And watching, with eternal lids apart, Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,/--<<

The android leader’s eyes opened wide, <<--/disbelief/-->>, and Simon dared not to look at him as his feelings were finally laid bare, >>--/longing/--/anxiety/--/fear/--<<

>>--/The moving waters at their priestlike task Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,/--<< >>--/Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—/--<<

He felt Markus’s hand shift again, now intertwining their fingers as he brought them to his lips in a gentle press, earning a low groan from Simon as his other hand gripped onto the bench seat like his life depended on it.

>>--/No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable, Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,/--<< >>--/To feel for ever its soft fall and swell, Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,/--<<

Emotions were passed rapidly between them like lovers sending letters; ><--/heat/--/devotion/--/hunger/--/rapture/--/desire/--/love/--/love/--/LOVE/--><

>>--/Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,/--<< >>--/And so live ever—or else swoon to death./--<<

The file was swept away as the two androids collided, kissing frantically with a hand that wound through blonde hair to keep him in place and another grasping wildly at the leader’s shoulders to get closer. It was dizzying as Markus continued to kiss him with a crushing force and holding him so tightly that Simon felt like he was going to burst. ><--/Love/-->< kept bouncing back a forth and he could’ve died happy right then in his companion’s arms.

Markus thought different once warnings of overheating and stress overload were imminent passed between them. His partner was too disoriented to do anything about it, the fact that Markus was still in his head, still wanting him, clouded any rational thought or action. Just as fast as it started, Markus pulled away and disconnected, leaving Simon panting and gripping tightly on his shoulder. It took a minute for Simon’s processors to cool down and his pump regulator to take a step down as Markus rubbed soothing circles into his hand and forearm.

Markus’s eyes were half-lidded and burning into Simon’s as he held the android’s face, making the android’s pump regulator jump at the sight, “How long?”

“Since the beginning.”

And damned were the consequences as Markus reached in again and caught Simon’s lips with his own. These kisses were slow, coaxing Simon to relax his grip until he practically lounged in his companion’s arms.

Yes, the leader of New Jericho was very a gentle man, but everyone knew he was especially so with the very soft and quiet Simon.

[your-dietician]

Better Together? 5 Benefits of Group Therapy

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/better-together-5-benefits-of-group-therapy/

Better Together? 5 Benefits of Group Therapy

We all need a safe space to talk things out. Group therapy can be that for people looking to manage a mental health condition or major life change.

You might have heard about group therapy to manage your mental health condition and are wondering whether it’s something that could benefit you.

Group therapy involves one or more therapists working with a small group of people, anywhere from 5 to 15 people, who all have similar issues they’re looking to improve.

There isn’t a one-size-fits-all when it comes to group therapy. Many approaches and types of groups exist based on the method of therapy or the mental health condition.

If you’re on the fence about trying group therapy to manage a mental health condition or life situation, here’s a primer on how group therapy can benefit you in ways beyond your diagnosis or situation.

Here are a few ways that group therapy may help you work through a mental health condition or tough life circumstance.

Group therapy helps you realize you’re not alone

“A big part of the group therapy experience is recognizing that others are struggling with very similar emotions and circumstances, so it’s helpful to have that support,” says Dr. Allison Chase, regional clinical director for Eating Recovery Center and Pathlight Mood and Anxiety Center.

For instance, when members join the group at different times, being able to share their progress can encourage new members. Chase’s clients have experienced a sense of empowerment by sharing their stories with others.

Group therapy facilitates giving and receiving support

Giving and receiving support from others can even boost your overall health.

When you feel good about helping someone else, or feel heard yourself, your brain releases dopamine, the “feel good” chemical messenger, into your body. Even the anticipation of give-and-take can be enough to raise dopamine levels.

“Group therapy can be really helpful in exposing others to a lot of discomfort with having interactions and even talking about their feelings [and] their emotions,” Chase explains.

A group setting can be a place where members can receive the support they need, and even prompt you to talk about your feelings, knowing others are there to do the same thing.

Group therapy gives you a voice

If you’re not used to it, it can be difficult to look inside yourself at how you’re feeling and expressing those thoughts and needs to others.

When you’re connecting with fellow group members, it can help to articulate your own feelings as they’re happening. This can help build your confidence and empower you to work toward positive change, as one 2018 study demonstrated.

This is a place where you can think and feel as you are. You don’t need to change your communication depending on the person, which is maybe what you’ve been doing in your personal life. Expressing yourself can be healing.

Group therapy also allows you to try different ways of communicating. How does it feel to state your concerns with no filter? To speak uninterrupted? Do you feel like everyone in your life sees you as shy? Outgoing?

In group therapy, you have the freedom to discover new ways of talking with others.

Group therapy helps you relate to others (and yourself) in healthier ways

Sometimes when you’re experiencing a mental health condition or traumatic event, your relationships can be affected, whether you realize it or not.

Group therapy can help you practice interacting with other people in a safe space, and learn that how people communicate has an effect on others.

You can learn this by talking with other group members, both while in session and during breaks.

Group therapy provides a safety net

You might feel uncomfortable speaking up and advocating for yourself, which can be common when dealing with anxiety and depression.

In a group therapy situation, you have an opportunity to lean into feeling accepted by others and to challenge yourself in making your needs known.

This can include motivating yourself out of your comfort zone to speak in a group, or giving yourself validation that you were heard.

One 2019 study found that group therapy can be especially helpful when you’re trying to work through social anxiety and life transitions.

When not in your group, it can also be helpful to know you can report back to them about your progress and celebrate your success. Or perhaps you bounce situations off them for an objective perspective on what you could’ve done differently if you didn’t handle something as well as you had liked.

The most obvious difference between group therapy and individual therapy is the number of people attending the session at one time.

In individual therapy, it’s just you and a therapist. The focus is on you and your own situation.

In group therapy, a facilitator leads a group of people with similar experiences or diagnoses.

Facilitators can hold different titles or accreditations. If the facilitator is a therapist or social worker, they should be licensed by their state. You can also verify that they’ve never had their license revoked.

Certified Group Psychotherapists are mental health professionals with additional certification in leading groups for therapy.

Some groups are led by peer facilitators. In this case, they should be certified by the organizing group as such.

Goals and fringe benefits of group therapy

Group therapy can be intimidating at first, but its value outweighs any initial awkwardness by providing a sounding board and social support outside your inner circle as you work through your situation.

It can also help you manage your mental health condition or work through difficult experiences with a group of people who are working through similar issues and toward similar goals.

Even if you’re not attending group therapy for social skills, this type of therapy can still provide fringe benefits such as:

comradery while growing with a group of people

role modeling and mentorship

hands-on experience with active listening

hope

Plus, there’s the idea of herd mentality, where you and other group members as a collective can influence each other positively.

Besides, you may even connect with one or several members who can hold each other accountable when practicing new skills or learning new ways to cope.

Many perspectives are brought up by group members, and this can help you not only learn more about yourself, but you may be introduced to new ideas and perspectives you haven’t thought of before.

Group therapy techniques

The technique used in group therapy sessions depends on the preferences of the therapist or facilitator leading the group.

Experiential activities such as art, music, dance, or movement therapy are ways to express yourself, according to Chase. Doing creative activities in this environment can help you become more aware of your own self and feelings.

For more info on experiential activities in therapy, check out this video by Nana Koch, chair of the department of health, physical education, and movement science at Long Island University Post:

A technique that Chase feels empowers group members is having members take turns leading the group, aka becoming the instructor.

“It’s a powerful way to become more actively engaged with your group,” Chase says.

Journaling is a technique used in many cognitive behavioral therapy groups. Writing exercises can help you get in touch with yourself. Journaling can help decrease stress, as some studies have shown.

Sometimes you may practice role-playing. This technique involves practicing new skills by interacting with a therapist in a fictional situation. Research has shown role-playing in groups can improve how you communicate, and more deeply connect you with your treatment plan.

Different groups can use different therapy approaches, and some will use more than one at the same time.

Cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT) groups

CBT works to change your thinking and behavior by recognizing negative patterns and reevaluating them. Group sessions can consist of identifying the situations that are triggering for people and working to develop skills for managing those situations.

A 2014 study found CBT group therapy does work, but some people reported it not being the right fit for them personally, or not intensive enough for what they were needing to manage.

Support groups

A support group can be online or in person. The purpose is to give and receive support from other group members who are going through similar difficulties.

According to a 2016 study, online support groups can still be beneficial, even through a screen.

Support groups aren’t always led by a trained professional, notes Chase, and tend to be more peer-facilitated. They can be an accessible and informal type of group, with different offerings than those run by professionals.

Process groups

An interpersonal process group, or process group, doesn’t necessarily have an agenda or skill that’s being taught, but according to Chase, it’s more what members are bringing to the group related to their thoughts and emotions.

Process group offers an opportunity to help people unpack what’s happening to them. This type of group can work well for those experiencing anxiety and PTSD symptoms, as a 2019 study indicated.

Psychoeducational groups

This type of group stands behind the “knowledge is power” mantra. There’s a specific focus on defining, providing coping tips, and building your knowledge base on your specific mental health condition.

Psychoeducational groups tend to focus on particular conditions. A 2017 study involving people with bipolar disorder found they experienced improvement in symptoms with this type of group therapy.

Skills development groups

In a skills development group, facilitators focus on introducing and developing new skills you may need to make the best choices for improving your mental health.

In a 2016 study involving adults with intellectual disabilities, study authors found that participants were more likely to acknowledge their own progress when the input came from their group peers versus a professional.

Group therapy may be a great fit for you, even if you’re not 100% sure at first. If it’s something you’re considering, it might be a good idea to look into finding a group near you. You can also ask your healthcare team for recommendations.

Whatever you decide, know that making the step toward a treatment decision is something to recognize and be proud of.

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[justanothercinemaniac]

Epic Movie (Re)Watch #132 - Good Will Hunting

Spoilers below.

Have I seen it before: Yes

Did I like it then: Yes.

Do I remember it: Yes.

Did I see it in theaters: No.

Format: Blu-ray

1) I find it interesting how when the opening credits say, “Written by Matt Damon and Ben Affleck,” it says Damon’s name over Affleck’s character and vice versa.

2) The first character in the film we really get to know is Stellan Skarsgård as Gerald Lambeau.

You get that Skarsgård has good intentions, even though he is a massive pretentious asshole who hits on his students and judges people not based on how happy they are but more their position in life. A janitor is a failure. A community college teacher is a failure. Any other opinions be damned. He’s not EXCLUSIVELY a bad guy though. You understand his intentions are good and he does learn as the film goes on, but damn if he isn’t just a prick for most of the film.

3) The first tavern scene is a nice way of introducing us to Will and his friends. It creates a sense of community between them and South Boston, a sense of character for every member of the group, and their relationships with each other.

4) Matt Damon as Will Hunting.

Will is a character who you really get to know over time, and that’s very nice. At first he largely keeps to himself and we get that he doesn’t care about power or prestige. At first that’s a noble thing, but then we learn that this is born less out of humility and more out of fear. Will is a flawed character. He convinces himself of all the disadvantages of somethings, of the shame of it, because he is petrified. His world, his life with his friends, that is safe for him. That is home. And he doesn’t really risk to go for more than that because of his fear of rejection (identified by Robin Williams’ Sean Maguire later in the movie). I think this - along with the beatings he sustained as a child - fuels the aggression we see (and later hear about) when he picks a fight with an old kindergarden bully for no other reason than he just felt like it (and then doesn’t stop until the cops show up).

But Will is SMART. And not like a little smart either, but incredibly intelligent. He’s not afraid to show it either, he doesn’t hide it when he feels a need to use it. But he doesn’t brag about it either. He is not in his friends’ faces with it with an, “I’m so much smarter than you,” attitude. Matt Damon - the film’s cowriter with Ben Affleck - plays Will’s many facets very well. This film is incredibly well cast and most of the actors when you’re watching them don’t FEEL like actors. They feel like the characters, totally and completely. Damon as the lead is no exception.

5) Can I just say: I LIVE for scenes in movies and moments in life where some pretentious condescending asshole is put in their place totally and completely? It’s so cathartic!

6) Minnie Driver as Skylar.

Can I just say I LOVE Skylar, even if she is at risk of falling into the category of manic pixie dream girl on paper. Minnie Driver’s academy award nominated performance in this film just makes her so much MORE than that! I love everything about Skylar: how she approaches Will at the bar and calls him an idiot for not asking her out, how she is able to hold her own against Will’s sense of humor and occasional bullshitting, her laugh, her honesty, her heart! The first time I watched this film I was in awe - more than anything else - with Driver’s realism in the part. She and Damon have knockout chemistry that not only suggests to you their heat but their friendship. It is totally believable that they fall in love in such a quick time, and that is because they work so fucking brilliantly with each other. There is sincerity, trust, comradery, humor, an ability to be themselves around each other. I believe Damon and Driver dated for a while after meeting on this film, and that chemistry shows. I just...gah! I love it so much!

7) Classic.

Will [to the douchebag from the bar]: “Do you like apples?”

Douchebag: “Yeah.”

Will [placing Skylar’s phone number on the glass between them]: “Well I got her number.”

8) The way Lambeau treats Will is...interesting, to say the least. At first it seems like he looks down at him. Like he’s his savior and he knows it. There’s a scene where after they’re done doing math together, Lambeau ruffles Will’s hair. Who the hell does that? It changes as the film goes on. You realize that Lambeau grows to understand that Will is truly an unmatched genius, but early on it’s...weird.

9) The string of psychiatrists Lambeau takes Will to see is very telling and very entertaining. It shows how smart Will is, but also how abrasive he is. How he scoffs at authority and the need for help. It’s a funny scene but it greatly tells to Will’s deeper struggles.

10) Robin Williams as Sean Maguire.

Williams won his first and only Oscar based on his performance in this film, and damn if it isn’t clear why. Williams is chameleonic. Yes you know its Robin Williams playing him, yes he brings some of his trademark improv comedy (more on that later), but you don’t SEE Williams. All you see is Sean, and that is incredible. Damon and Affleck took a character who could have easily been just the token mentor. The Obi-Wan to Will’s Luke Skywalker. But they did more. They gave Sean his own struggles, his own grief, his own desires, his own conflict, his own arc, and made a truly compelling character who can hold his own against Damon’s Will.

You learn a lot about Sean as the film goes along. You learn how his life is defined by his love and loss of his wife, you see that he is able to relate to actual people, that he hates the MIT snobs. The dude chokes Will out for insulting his wife at one point and is the first therapist to kick Lambeau out of his session. Meaning he takes his time with Will far more seriously than the other therapists.

The chemistry between Williams and Damon is on par with the chemistry between Driver and Damon, although of a fundamentally different nature. Williams as Sean is able to sift through Will’s bullshit, knows when he doesn’t need to put up with it, and is able to slowly make this character who is so afraid of rejection comfortable around him. I think it’s the key relationship in the film, and I love it.

11) Danny Elfman’s score in this film is beautiful. Elfman is known for his more macabre work through collaborations with directors like Tim Burton and Sam Raimi, but here he creates a hopeful and sincere melody which carries you through the film like a leaf on the wind. I think it’s great.

12) The scene where Sean is talking to Will on a park bench is somewhat iconic, but I think it is very powerful for one key reason: the filmmakers decided to keep it on William’s performance for most of the scene. They did not cut between him and Damon, they let his acting and his heart carry those minutes and it is incredible I think. You can watch for yourself if you so desire:

This is my favorite line from that monologue:

Sean: “You’re an orphan right. Do you think I know the first thing about how hard your life has been - how you feel, who you are - because I read Oliver Twist?”

People like to say they know what other people are going through, but unless they have personally they don’t have any idea what they’re talking about. Thank you to this film for having that line in there. I love it.

13) According to IMDb:

The lines in the scene when Sean talks about his late wife's farting antics were ad-libbed by Robin Williams. That is why Matt Damon was laughing so hard. If you watch the scene carefully you can notice the camera shaking a bit, possibly due to the cameraman laughing as well.

14) This film does an excellent job in balancing the aspects of Will’s life. We get the perfect looks at his relationship with his friends, with Skylar, with Sean, and with Lambeau. There’s not too much and there’s not too little, it’s just right.

15) It is interesting to see how Will lets his guard down with Skylar in some regards while also keeping it up in some ways (namely, lying about how he has 12 brothers).

16) I love Skylar’s story with Will’s friends.

Minnie Driver is gold.

17)

Lambeau [after Sean says they should let Sean go down his own path]: “It worked wonders for you didn’t it?”

Sean: “Yeah it did you arrogant fucking prick.”

(GIF source unknown [if this is your GIF please let me know].)

WHETHER OR NOT SOMEONE HAS LIVED A GOOD LIFE IS NOT BASED ON THEIR STATURE. IT IS NOT BASED ON THEIR JOB, THEIR WEALTH, THEIR LOOKS, NOTHING LIKE THAT. IT IS EXCLUSIVELY BASED ON HOW HAPPY THEY ARE LIVING THEIR LIFE AND HOW MUCH PAIN THEY ARE OR ARE NOT CAUSING OTHERS!!!!

(GIF originally posted by @marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer)

I have a lot of strong feelings on this matter, can you tell?

18) I love how Will explains the way his brain works. How he says Mozart and Beethoven could just look at a piano and play, that’s how his brain works with history and numbers and science and stuff. It actually makes a lot of sense despite being pretty vague.

19) Get ready to have your heart broken by Will being a fucking idiot.

GODDAMN IT WILL!!!!!

20) Will’s whole monologue about why he doesn’t take a job with the NSA because of what COULD happen and one hypothetical leading to another is just a perfect example of him using his intellect to rationalize his fears in a bullshit way.

Will [in a session with Sean]: “Why shouldn't I work for the N.S.A.? That's a tough one, but I'll take a shot. Say I'm working at N.S.A. Somebody puts a code on my desk, something nobody else can break. Maybe I take a shot at it and maybe I break it. And I'm real happy with myself, 'cause I did my job well. But maybe that code was the location of some rebel army in North Africa or the Middle East. Once they have that location, they bomb the village where the rebels were hiding and fifteen hundred people I never met, never had no problem with, get killed. Now the politicians are sayin', "Oh, send in the Marines to secure the area" 'cause they don't give a shit. It won't be their kid over there, gettin' shot. Just like it wasn't them when their number got called, 'cause they were pullin' a tour in the National Guard. It'll be some kid from Southie takin' shrapnel in the ass. And he comes back to find that the plant he used to work at got exported to the country he just got back from. And the guy who put the shrapnel in his ass got his old job, 'cause he'll work for fifteen cents a day and no bathroom breaks. Meanwhile, he realizes the only reason he was over there in the first place was so we could install a government that would sell us oil at a good price. And, of course, the oil companies used the skirmish over there to scare up domestic oil prices. A cute little ancillary benefit for them, but it ain't helping my buddy at two-fifty a gallon. And they're takin' their sweet time bringin' the oil back, of course, and maybe even took the liberty of hiring an alcoholic skipper who likes to drink martinis and fuckin' play slalom with the icebergs, and it ain't too long 'til he hits one, spills the oil and kills all the sea life in the North Atlantic. So now my buddy's out of work and he can't afford to drive, so he's got to walk to the fuckin' job interviews, which sucks 'cause the shrapnel in his ass is givin' him chronic hemorrhoids. And meanwhile he's starvin', 'cause every time he tries to get a bite to eat, the only blue plate special they're servin' is North Atlantic scrod with Quaker State. So what did I think? I'm holdin' out for somethin' better. I figure fuck it, while I'm at it why not just shoot my buddy, take his job, give it to his sworn enemy, hike up gas prices, bomb a village, club a baby seal, hit the hash pipe and join the National Guard? I could be elected president.”

21) One of my favorite scenes in this film is Chuckie’s reaction after Will says he’s going to stay in south Boston his whole life.

Chuckie: “Look, you're my best friend, so don't take this the wrong way but, in 20 years if you're still livin' here, comin' over to my house, watchin' the Patriots games, workin' construction, I'll fuckin' kill ya. That's not a threat, that's a fact, I'll fuckin' kill ya.”

He is like the only one - between Skylar, Sean, and Lambeau - to actually get through to Will. And that is because he speaks Will’s language. It’s one of my favorite character moments in the film.

22) I do really love the climax of the film (Sean telling Will, “It’s not your fault,” for his foster dad beating on him and Will breaking down into tears) even if I’m aware of some of it’s flaws. This is a turning point for Will, but if he were in therapy in real life this wouldn’t be the end. Also most therapists don’t treat their patients this way. But that’s the beauty of fiction: we have this thing called suspension of disbelief which makes movies fun to watch! :D

23) I think the ending for this film is quite lovely. So many different ideas from earlier play into effect, Will goes to make up with Skylar (headcanon: he gets her back after much groveling and attempts to convince her he’s changed), and what Matt Damon said was Robin Williams’ best improvised line in the film.

Will [in a note he leaves for Sean]: "Sean, if the Professor calls about that job, just tell him, sorry, I have to go see about a girl."

Good Will Hunting is a classic of cinema. It features excellent writing that features a heartwarming story, supported by incredible performances across the board. Williams, Damon, and Driver are all particular standouts, but the film is just so good. Perhaps a little overrated, but still incredible. Go see it!

[sdsucounseling]

Four Types of Fitness to Help Build Physical and Mental Strength

 Fitness is one of the key components for maintaining well-rounded physical and mental health. Both of these play a fundamental role in the development of intrapersonal strength. There are a variety of exercises that cultivate a balance between internal and external needs. Each of them is designed with unique characteristics that help individuals build a positive relationship with exercise. Below, is a list of four common types of fitness that can be used to support your physical and mental growth.

1. Cycling

Cycling is a prime example of an exercise that works to challenge both physical and mental strength. In recent years, indoor cycling has gained an immense amount of popularity due to the increase in community spin classes. Spin classes are a form of cardiovascular exercise that utilizes intensity and endurance. Cardio is typically labeled as tedious and tiresome, but cycling is an exception to these lackluster qualities. During a class, people are led by an instructor through a series of stationary bike circuits. The circuits include periods of fast and slow pace intervals. At any time, the participants can adjust the bike’s resistance in order to accommodate their preferred level of difficulty. Upbeat music and rhythmic motions are used to distract participants from the fatigue they may be experiencing. The instructors strive to create an enthusiastic, engaging environment that pushes people to the best of their abilities. Spin classes allow people to get lost in the beat of the music and drain themselves of mental stressors.

Luckily, the Aztec Recreation Center has a wide range of cycling classes. These classes have some of the highest attendance rates, which is why they are offered at various days and times throughout the week. If you are not able to attend a group class, they also have bikes in the multi-purpose room that are open for everyone’s convenience!

2. Running

Running is a classic, yet controversial approach to exercise. Many people appreciate its simplicity, but others dread its monotonous movements. Despite these differences, running remains to be a reliable source of physical and mental self-care. It is a cardiovascular exercise that primarily strengthens lower body muscles. One major benefit of running is the variety of customizable speeds and distances. If a long-distance jog does not appeal to someone, they still have the option of experimenting with things like a short distance sprint. One thing to note is that while all exercise has the potential for injury, running is known to be especially taxing on the joints. Prior to a run, it is crucial to incorporate a proper warm-up regime that will help prevent injury. Beyond the physical component, running is also an excellent source of mental exercise. The motions are instinctive, which makes it easier for people to clear their mind and let their feet lead the way.

The Aztec Recreation Center does not have a class designated for running, but they do arrange an Outdoor Bootcamp that incorporates running circuits into the workout. In addition to this class, the gym’s track is also open on Mondays and Wednesdays from 7-9pm!

3. CrossFit

CrossFit is another unique form of exercise that provides its participants with a challenging, yet therapeutic environment. It is relatively new amongst the fitness community but has gained an immense following from people all around the world. They form tight-knit communities that welcome diverse groups of people to come and join their workouts. No matter your experience level, gender, or age, the exercises are created to accommodate anyone who wishes to join. CrossFit uses a combination of strength training, gymnastics, Olympic lifting, and cardiovascular circuits. Most of the workouts are performed in groups, which generates a constant sense of perseverance and comradery. CrossFit embraces physical and mental capabilities; it promotes skills that participants can use beyond the gym.

The Aztec Recreation Center has one CrossFit group fitness class, called AztecFit, that is offered a couple times each week in the Performance Center. If you prefer to try a community-based CrossFit gym, there is a vast number of them throughout San Diego County! You can contact a local gym near you and ask about the options they have for people interested in trying it out for the first time!

4. Yoga

Yoga is one of the most prominent sources of mental and physical self-care. Many people recognize its association with mental well-being, which may be the root cause behind the stigmas surrounding its physical relevance. Yoga is often disregarded as an easy form of exercise, but in reality, it provides some of the highest levels of physical difficulty. The poses require equal amounts of strength, balance, and flexibility. Most of the movements are strictly body-weight, but that does not take away from the challenge. It requires dedicated practice in order to achieve proper technique, however, that does not mean you need to be an expert to participate. Yoga teaches its people about the importance of mindfulness both inside and outside the studio. A serene atmosphere with calming music and comforting materials allow the participants to stimulate their mind and body. Yoga is a beam of positive energy in the fitness community that proclaims the message of overall wellness.

There are many yoga classes at the Aztec Recreation Center, which include a variety of styles such as, power, vinyasa, strength, and deep stretch yoga! All of these classes provide their own free mats and blocks for participants to use during class.

Exercise is an essential component of maintaining a happy, healthy lifestyle. If you explore all of your options, it will be easier to identify the one that best suits your needs. Once you find something you enjoy, the exercise can feel gratifying, opposed to burdensome! Fitness is not meant to be miserable. It should be used as a form of expression that provides you with physical and mental relief. Always remember that your well-being deserves to be treated with love and respect; exercise is just one of the many ways to provide it with that support.

[sportsgameqia-blog-blog]

Youth Sports Part 1: Getting Bad Sports Parents to Behave Better

New Post has been published on https://sportsguideto.com/trending/youth-sports-part-1-getting-bad-sports-parents-to-behave-better/

Youth Sports Part 1: Getting Bad Sports Parents to Behave Better

If you caught even a snippet of Chris Bell’s HBO show Trophy Kids, you likely winced at the scenes of tennis moms and golf dads behaving very badly.

One of the reasons for your discomfort is probably that you feel bad for the kids on the receiving end of such over-the-top “hyper-parenting.” But if you’re a youth sports coach, you might watch Bell’s documentary series nodding your head because, unfortunately, you’ve been subjected to the rants of irate parents who think their kid should be the star player.

There are cultural factors at work here that are far outside the scope of this article. We’re witnessing an “activities arms race” in which all too many parents feel obliged to keep up with the Joneses by filling every second of children’s lives with activity.

This is largely an extension of how we as adults approach our work and personal lives, overstuffing our calendars, over-extending our commitments, and overdosing on our social media feeds in whatever few minutes are left over each day. The perma-stress created by such hectic lifestyles starts to bubble up through the cracks, which we see manifested in the worst possible way in the outbursts on soccer sidelines and Little League bleachers.

Cultural commentary aside, what are we actually going to do about this issue? We might not be able to solve the parenting-related problems of all the 45 million kids who play organized sports in the U.S., but perhaps we can at least help you create a positive, tantrum-free environment for the few you’re committed to coaching. Here goes…

Setting Expectations

It’s arguable that people with frustrated athletic ambitions (think Uncle Rico in Napoleon Dynamite: “If coach would’ve put me in, we would’ve won state.”) make the worst sports parents, as they’re unfairly trying to atone for their own shortcomings by putting pressure on their children to perform. It’s not your role to play counselor and try to sort out the psychological issues of every parent who decides to behave badly on the sideline. On the other hand, you cannot allow them to disrupt your practices and make game day miserable for everyone.

One way to strike a balance is to establish some ground rules from day one said Whitey Nelson who works with everyone from former international players to under-7 youth teams through his club Misfits Rugby.

“We invite everybody to get together at a pre-season meet-and-greet where parents and their kids can get to know me and my assistant coach,” Nelson said. “This gives me the opportunity to find out what they expect from us and our program, and then for us to set expectations for them on and off the field. For example, there’s a reason we always call the referee ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ – because it conveys respect. This meeting also allows us to explain our culture and values, what the kids will get out of rugby, and why they should play in the first place. This helps to set the tone for the season and encourages candid dialogue from day one.”

Building on Nelson’s approach, you should make it clear that while parents are welcome at practice, they cannot interrupt drills or yell at their child, other kids, or you. And they need to stay out of the actual training area.

You might also need to outline the consequences if a parent starts acting up: they’ll be asked to leave.

Having set such a boundary, you must ruthlessly enforce it. If a mom or dad violates a rule, remind them of it, and be clear that if it happens again, there will be consequences. It’s all too tempting for youth coaches to mollify parents because they’re scared of a mutiny or the team falling apart if too many parents turn against them. But just as teachers in the classroom have to differentiate between what’s acceptable (a polite email exchange about a perceived issue) and unacceptable (interfering with grading), so too must the coach.

And when problems do arise, you need to be proactive and tackle them head on.

“We recently had a Dad who was yelling a lot during a game in a way that was inappropriate,” Nelson said. “Afterwards I asked him why he was so frustrated. He explained that his son wasn’t playing enough. I thought about it for a minute and recognized that he was right. So I apologized and resolved to give his child more of an opportunity in the next game. Then I reminded him that I am an unpaid volunteer who’s trying to manage 60 kids across various teams, as well as having a full-time job, coaching adults, and trying to be a good father and husband. Once he realized that I wasn’t being paid and that our lives were pretty similar, it reset his expectations and helped him value my time more. And because I gave him a voice, he felt that he was being listened to.”

Modeling the Behavior You Expect

If you want parents to act politely and courteously toward you, your fellow coaches, and game officials, but you treat them like dirt, you’re going to create a dissonance between what you preach and what you practice. Make sure you’re consistent in leading by example and displaying the kind of behavior you’re asking from parents.

The same extends to the children in your charge. If you scream, criticize, and embarrass, then you’re creating a culture that says it’s OK for their parents to do the same both at your practices/games and away from the court, field, or pitch. Instead, try to instruct firmly but without raising your voice, be a constant encourager, and, if a child has a certain issue, talk to them about it away from the group so you don’t shame them in front of their peers.

Such a modus operandi mimics some of the best coaches in the adult sporting world, according to author Fergus Connolly.

“When I consulted at Liverpool FC, Brendan Rodgers never had a bad word to say to the team but was always positive,” Connolly said. “At Welsh Rugby, Warren Gatland had a similar approach. He didn’t have much to say to the players during training, but when he did speak, it was to encourage and to break tension with humor. He also smiled a lot, which set the tone for the players. Such things are just as effective at the youth level. If you want well behaved and friendly kids and parents, you have to act that way.”

Establishing and Maintaining Lines of Communication

One of the issues with bad sports parents is that they’re constantly trying to tell you how to do your job (or, quite likely, your volunteer-basis vocation). We see this in armchair quarterbacking at practices and even more so at games where parents suddenly become self-appointed experts on everything from formation to tactics to substitution patterns.

And if a mom or dad has played the sport themselves, the issue can be exacerbated because they think this lends them credibility to shoot holes in your coaching, lambast the referees, and yell at the kids.

Try to get ahead of such problems by creating an opportunity for parents to speak their mind outside of practice and away from games. Be clear that you don’t think your coaching is perfect and that you welcome suggestions, but that the time for these is before or after practice, not in the middle of it. If you engage in conversation during these times and proactively seek feedback, you’ll foster positive two-way communication.

You can also provide your email address and, if you’re comfortable with giving it out, your phone number and let parents know you’d welcome the chance to discuss issues.

Preventing a Coaches/Parents Civil War

Once a forceful parent or two turn against their children’s coach, it’s possible for them to poison the well and create an us-and-them divide between their fellow parents and you. To prevent this from happening, you don’t need to become everybody’s best friend, but there are some things you can do to create a sense of comradery and teamwork.

One is to ask volunteers to perform certain tasks, which allows you to delegate responsibility without abdicating.

“The best teams in the world entrust people with responsibility, as it gives everyone a sense of ownership,” Connolly said. “It might be something small, but to the person performing the task, it’s bigger than just picking up cones after practice or helping clean up the locker room. Giving people responsibility makes them feel like they’re a real part of the team and encourages leadership.”

With this in mind, send an email to all parents at the beginning of the season asking people to sign up for certain tasks. Maybe it’s a regular thing like bringing a cooler full of bottled water to each practice or washing game jerseys.

You can also ask for help on the spot as needed. For example, if a one-car family calls to say they can’t make it to practice tonight because their vehicle is in the shop, maybe you fire off a group text asking if somebody can pick the child up and drop them off. Such things foster a sense of community that goes far beyond simply hosting an end-of-year pizza party.

Keeping the Team Together

Despite your best efforts and giving a parent several chances to improve their behavior, there may be a couple of repeat offenders who continue to undermine your team’s values and standards. Rather than kicking them out, Nelson takes a more constructive approach to solving this thorny problem:

“If a parent has behaved disruptively or disrespectfully over and over despite me talking with them, I put the focus back on their son or daughter,” he said.

“I remind them that we’re giving their child the chance not only to learn a wonderful sport, but also to improve as a human being. Is it worth denying their son or daughter this opportunity because they feel the need to yell and scream? Then I explain that my daughters are becoming confident young women who speak up for those who don’t have a voice simply because they’re playing rugby. I ask them to imagine how much their child would grow if they stay with the team. Then I make it clear that for this to happen, the adult needs to start acting like one. If they can’t, we’ll gladly refund their fees. But we’d prefer to remedy the situation and keep them and their kid around. More often than not, we see this mom or dad radically change, and their child thrives.”

Check back soon for part 2 in our youth sports series.

Source

https://blog.trainheroic.com/youth-sports-part-1-getting-bad-sports-parents-to-behave-better

[rpsports]

#TeamNater Races Across America

As a track sprinter on the velodrome, I am used to going 100% and doing everything I can to turn myself inside out. My typical efforts in training are between 20 and 40 seconds long and by the time I am done I often have a headache and a sudden urge to throw up. Pushing this hard did not come natural. To be able to push to this extent, it takes years of training and experience, and as the saying goes, "The stronger you get the more it hurts." So needless to say, I am a glutton for punishment… Maybe that's why I jumped on the opportunity to be a part of Race Across America 2017!

  In the beginning of 2017, my brother James approached me to see if I'd be interested in joining the Oceanside Police Department team for Race Across America. Of course there was some slight hesitation, being a sprinter on the velodrome, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I knew I needed to jump on. Since my training is typically done for races that are less than two minutes long, I needed to understand the strategy and how I would tweak my training to fit. Fortunately for me, I would be riding on an eight man team that is separated into two teams of four riders and put on a rotation. Only one rider rides at a time with the teams of four being on eight hour shift's. During your eight hour shift the four riders rotate who is on the bike every 15 minutes. Although compared to my typical racing, 15 minutes is a very long period, I knew that if done right I would be able to do what is needed to be successful. 

  The total race distance is just over 3000 miles and the first team to the finish line wins. This means there is a rider on the road 24 hours a day until we reach the finish line. Being on an eight hour shift is nice because you get some rest, but really when all is said and done it only equals about 3 to 4 hours of sleep a day... Sometimes you may start your shift at 2 AM and then finish at 10 AM. That means you have to try to find some sleep in the middle of the day while transporting to the next starting location. Basically it is a sleep and logistical nightmare!

  On June 17th we rolled out of Oceanside California in pursuit of Annapolis Maryland. My team of four was on second rotation so we did the initial parade ride for the first few miles and then hopped in the van for a few hours to our starting point. I knew going into this that the riding would be difficult, but the most difficult portions would be the sleep and keeping my legs as fresh as possible. Fortunately for me I had my new RP Lite system!

  I had the opportunity to ride in almost every condition imaginable. The first few days through the deserts we did climbing at temperatures above 115° and had tailwinds at night that pushed me to 60 mph. During the rotational period of riding it is a very strange rhythm. On the bike at 100% effort for 15 minutes until you exchange with the next rider and then get back into the van for 45 minutes. Sometimes in the van it is daytime and everybody is up and talking, and other times it is in the middle of the night and as soon as you get back into the van you fall straight to sleep for the next 45 minutes until it is your turn to race again.

  It took me a few days to find my rhythm. While driving ahead to our next starting destinations I made sure to have my Recovery Pump boots on for at least an hour to freshen up my legs. Having a whole row to myself in the SUV made this a very comfortable experience. I think at one point I fell asleep with them on for over two hours! Come day four everything starts to go numb. The way you would be able to hurt your legs the first few days became more of a doll ache.

  Once we got over the Rockies it was Time for some flat fast speeds! We ripped through the farmlands of America passing silos and tractors by the dozens. At this point I had figured out somewhat of a sleeping routine and could feel my energy and power on the bike climbing. Fortunately the temperatures had subsided a bit and the weather was nice. Although majority of the winds were at our back there were a few instances that proved different. At one point is was going all out as hard as I could in my aero position, and for my 15 minute interval my average speed was 16 mph… I've never experienced a head wind that literally felt like somebody was pushing me backwards. At times like these it was nice to be able to rely on teammates. When you get on the bike knowing that you're only be there for 15 minutes it is easy to turn yourself inside out time after time. I can't even imagine the mindset that the solo riders have to complete this on their own.

  As we came towards the end of the race I became that much more reliant on getting in my recovery pump boots after each rotation. It always was amazing how the first few squeeze cycles almost felt painful because of how tight and fatigued my legs were. Then five minutes through I wish I was able to get even more pressure because it felt so good. Nothing like having the feeling of an hour massage while sitting in an SUV driving up the road. Along with my Recovery Pump boots I made sure to bring my foam roller. I have noticed that being able to incorporate back flexion is a huge advantage since I am constantly in a back extension position. 

  Like with any good road trip, the closer you get to your destination the longer time seems to take. Going into our last day seemed like eternity. Starting off at 4am in pouring rain was an experience like I have never had. It was our last rotation and I was sure to turn myself inside out to make it my very best. Although we were not in the mountains, the terrain was extremely undulating. Quick steep short climbs with fun aggressive down hills. Nothing like passing a semi truck going 60 mph in a tucked position through a torrential down pour! Winding through the rural farmlands of Pennsylvania we got closer and closer to Annapolis. It was crazy to think how many experiences and emotions I had felt in those six days. It felt like an eternity, but overnight at the same time.

  As my last few efforts came to an end I tried to be mindful about the experience I had just undergone. The emotional highs and lows on the bike battling with my own mindset to push as hard as possible. The disagreements with teammates and crew that turned into laughing and a deeper sense of comradery. It is amazing how much can be packed into six days and three hours of racing. 

  We arrived in Annapolis and secured our third place position. With several what if's throughout the way and scenarios that could've definitely ended our race, we were happy to have finished as well as we did. It was an incredible experience that not only tested my physical strings on the bike, but my mental and emotional capacity is as an athlete as well.

  Will I do it again? Never say never...

[rpsports]

#TeamNater Races Across America

As a track sprinter on the velodrome, I am used to going 100% and doing everything I can to turn myself inside out. My typical efforts in training are between 20 and 40 seconds long and by the time I am done I often have a headache and a sudden urge to throw up. Pushing this hard did not come natural. To be able to push to this extent, it takes years of training and experience, and as the saying goes, "The stronger you get the more it hurts." So needless to say, I am a glutton for punishment… Maybe that's why I jumped on the opportunity to be a part of Race Across America 2017!

  In the beginning of 2017, my brother James approached me to see if I'd be interested in joining the Oceanside Police Department team for Race Across America. Of course there was some slight hesitation, being a sprinter on the velodrome, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I knew I needed to jump on. Since my training is typically done for races that are less than two minutes long, I needed to understand the strategy and how I would tweak my training to fit. Fortunately for me, I would be riding on an eight man team that is separated into two teams of four riders and put on a rotation. Only one rider rides at a time with the teams of four being on eight hour shift's. During your eight hour shift the four riders rotate who is on the bike every 15 minutes. Although compared to my typical racing, 15 minutes is a very long period, I knew that if done right I would be able to do what is needed to be successful. 

  The total race distance is just over 3000 miles and the first team to the finish line wins. This means there is a rider on the road 24 hours a day until we reach the finish line. Being on an eight hour shift is nice because you get some rest, but really when all is said and done it only equals about 3 to 4 hours of sleep a day... Sometimes you may start your shift at 2 AM and then finish at 10 AM. That means you have to try to find some sleep in the middle of the day while transporting to the next starting location. Basically it is a sleep and logistical nightmare!

  On June 17th we rolled out of Oceanside California in pursuit of Annapolis Maryland. My team of four was on second rotation so we did the initial parade ride for the first few miles and then hopped in the van for a few hours to our starting point. I knew going into this that the riding would be difficult, but the most difficult portions would be the sleep and keeping my legs as fresh as possible. Fortunately for me I had my new RP Lite system!

  I had the opportunity to ride in almost every condition imaginable. The first few days through the deserts we did climbing at temperatures above 115° and had tailwinds at night that pushed me to 60 mph. During the rotational period of riding it is a very strange rhythm. On the bike at 100% effort for 15 minutes until you exchange with the next rider and then get back into the van for 45 minutes. Sometimes in the van it is daytime and everybody is up and talking, and other times it is in the middle of the night and as soon as you get back into the van you fall straight to sleep for the next 45 minutes until it is your turn to race again.

  It took me a few days to find my rhythm. While driving ahead to our next starting destinations I made sure to have my Recovery Pump boots on for at least an hour to freshen up my legs. Having a whole row to myself in the SUV made this a very comfortable experience. I think at one point I fell asleep with them on for over two hours! Come day four everything starts to go numb. The way you would be able to hurt your legs the first few days became more of a doll ache.

  Once we got over the Rockies it was Time for some flat fast speeds! We ripped through the farmlands of America passing silos and tractors by the dozens. At this point I had figured out somewhat of a sleeping routine and could feel my energy and power on the bike climbing. Fortunately the temperatures had subsided a bit and the weather was nice. Although majority of the winds were at our back there were a few instances that proved different. At one point is was going all out as hard as I could in my aero position, and for my 15 minute interval my average speed was 16 mph… I've never experienced a head wind that literally felt like somebody was pushing me backwards. At times like these it was nice to be able to rely on teammates. When you get on the bike knowing that you're only be there for 15 minutes it is easy to turn yourself inside out time after time. I can't even imagine the mindset that the solo riders have to complete this on their own.

  As we came towards the end of the race I became that much more reliant on getting in my recovery pump boots after each rotation. It always was amazing how the first few squeeze cycles almost felt painful because of how tight and fatigued my legs were. Then five minutes through I wish I was able to get even more pressure because it felt so good. Nothing like having the feeling of an hour massage while sitting in an SUV driving up the road. Along with my Recovery Pump boots I made sure to bring my foam roller. I have noticed that being able to incorporate back flexion is a huge advantage since I am constantly in a back extension position. 

  Like with any good road trip, the closer you get to your destination the longer time seems to take. Going into our last day seemed like eternity. Starting off at 4am in pouring rain was an experience like I have never had. It was our last rotation and I was sure to turn myself inside out to make it my very best. Although we were not in the mountains, the terrain was extremely undulating. Quick steep short climbs with fun aggressive down hills. Nothing like passing a semi truck going 60 mph in a tucked position through a torrential down pour! Winding through the rural farmlands of Pennsylvania we got closer and closer to Annapolis. It was crazy to think how many experiences and emotions I had felt in those six days. It felt like an eternity, but overnight at the same time.

  As my last few efforts came to an end I tried to be mindful about the experience I had just undergone. The emotional highs and lows on the bike battling with my own mindset to push as hard as possible. The disagreements with teammates and crew that turned into laughing and a deeper sense of comradery. It is amazing how much can be packed into six days and three hours of racing. 

  We arrived in Annapolis and secured our third place position. With several what if's throughout the way and scenarios that could've definitely ended our race, we were happy to have finished as well as we did. It was an incredible experience that not only tested my physical strings on the bike, but my mental and emotional capacity is as an athlete as well.

  Will I do it again? Never say never...