This feels sooo good...Do this next time you’re in front of the TV
Looking for a way to stay active without sacrificing your relaxation time? Why not try incorporating a workout into your TV-watching or sitting routine? It's a simple way to keep your body moving and get your blood pumping, helping you feel energized
I’ve got a feel-good post for you today …
…. because it’s packed with THREE stretches that will open up your hips from every direction!
These all feel GREAT while you’re doing them, and they’re perfect for the next time you’re watching TV or want to unwind after work.
Before we dive in, here’s the deal with your hips: they can get tight either by being active (running, cycling, etc.) or…
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Prompt 245
Now Danny would openly admit, if only to himself, that he had a type when it came to relationships. If they were strong, if they were a threat to him, then chances were he would develop some sort of crush. It was how he had dated Sam and Valerie (And Johnny & Kitty) when he was a bit younger, and hell, Sam had technically succeeded in killing him, even if partly.
Attraction towards smart people who could kill him was honestly par for the course for a Fenton or Nightingale anyway.
And he’d also admit he enjoyed a bit of time travel, learning about times and culture long before his time, to the point that he could blend in in ancient times just as easily as the time he had been born in. That it was natural to mutter in a language lost to time.
So color him surprise when another man perks up in the bar he had paused to get a drink in, vibrant green eyes gleaming in interest and responds in turn. And not just in the language, but able to keep up when he talks about things that once existed but haven’t been rediscovered yet.
And one thing led to the other, and there might have been some assassins and some shenanigans that end with them both laughing together in an inn and then more and- Okay he has a type alright, and he’s ticking each box! How is that fair?
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one thing about the withywoods years that drives me a little crazy is the fact that fitz is living that life as if he is a 80 year old retired man living his last years wanting nothing more than to spend time with his dear wife, completely ignoring the fact that he is a middle aged man who is not aging. not only he is still relatively young and could have been doing more with his life but he also pretends the not aging situation is simply Not Happening and he continues living in this little fantasy in which he will grow old and die by molly's side. and it was painfully obvious that he was going to outlive molly and continue his life without her but he simply never thinks about that. he never prepares himself for that loss and for a life beyond her even though, as painful as it is, that would have been the healthiest thing to do in that situation.
and all of this only adds to the fact that he was indeed living fully immersed in this fantasy and illusion of Absolute Normalcy that he created in his mind and he would not let anything else about himself and his life that was Not Normal to even touch that fantasy. but then he loses molly, the illusion crumbles, and the boredom and unfulfilling nature of that life becomes obvious. and, to me personally, it gets clear throughout the trilogy that that illusion he creates, his protectiveness of his life with molly and his inability of letting reality touch it, him cutting all these parts of himself and his life away, it's not only because he wants a life of normalcy and peace but because, above all else, he wants a life of being loved by molly. and he can't really see anything beyond that, the thought of not having that is unbearable, so he will continue to lie to himself, he will keep living an uneventful and unfulfilling life, he will pretend he's not really aging, he will lock all those parts of himself away in his little study, because that's what he thinks he has to do in order to have that life and feel loved by her.
and fitz thinks no one else loves him like that, and after he loses her, he thinks that no one else ever will. and to me the soul crushing tragedy of all this is that this comes almost directly from beloved's abandonment of him which not only reinforced his already existing abandonment issues, but also it meant being left behind and feeling used and unloved by the person he loved and wanted to be with the most.
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Cloud tells his mom about Sephiroth locking himself in the basement and he hasn't eaten in days. She figures that is just NOT GOOD and makes him a home cooked meal and a jug of lemonade and determinedly goes to the mansion to deliver it...
Heck yeah! Them maternal instincts kicking IN! ❤️
Claudia is not at all unnerved by the ambience of the manor. Not in the slightest. She has the rawest of Nibelheim hearts, desensitized to anything and everything the town has to throw at her. Cobwebs? Nah. Creaky stairs? Please! She’s wrapped her delivery in layers upon layers of tinfoil so a speck of dust can’t so much as LOOK in the direction of her food. It was for the sad, confused military man!
Sephiroth is as oblivious as ever as she reaches the room, his nose buried in a book and about half of the library’s arsenal scattered around him.
“Excuse me… Sir?”
Sephiroth stiffens, and his world blips. It isn’t that fuzzy shape’s voice that he heard just then, pleading for him to come back, pleading for the 100th time. It’s… different. Completely different. Satiny, almost. Velvety.
Loving,
Is this—
Sephiroth’s voice leaves him in a crack. “…Mother?”
Claudia, standing by the door, is very confused. But it’s an amused confusion that flashes across her face.
“You can say that, dear. I’m Cloud’s mother. He came here with you on the mission.” She smiles. “He’s told me a lot about you.”
Sephiroth turns around then. The names don’t click in his mind, almost ricocheting. The only thing that truly sticks—that matters—is the fact that she is NOT his mother. She is no one then. Irrelevant.
“Get out,” Sephiroth snarls, that previous awe draining from his eyes. “Now.”
Claudia, though, is not deterred. Not in the slightest. She sees his eyes, and sees the ink splotched all around them. Clear as daylight, dark as bruises. Dark as the ones her poor Cloud used to come home with. These books—they are bullies. That’s what they are. They are hurting him. He needs to get out of here.
And by Gaia, he is so thin. So pale. He needs to eat!
Sephiroth takes a step back as Claudia steps forward, the unearthly shape of his eyes quivering. But them maternal instincts are already activated. She carefully unwraps the big, delicious grilled Chocobo and hands it out to him, her voice soft and gentle, channeling all the nights and tears and solaces ribboned between the very essence of her motherly soul.
“Would you like to talk about it?”
Maybe it’s the way she said it. Maybe it was the way she looked while saying it. Maybe it was how good the Chocobo smelled in that dusty library. Something in Sephiroth splinters then—a toxic, steely fortress mortared with instinct and vulnerability cracking from her presence. And a fortress can’t stand with one crack; so it crumbles entirely.
They sit together on the floor, and Sephiroth tells her everything. He breaks into a sob, telling of his friends, how he can’t let go of their betrayal, how it still stings. He tells her of the revelations in the Reactor, of what flowed through his veins and the lies he was built around.
And Claudia listens. She listens, and she tells him that it’s okay. Over and over and over. That it’s not his fault. That nothing is. That he’s…
“Dear…” Claudia takes her plate back, only shiny white bones remaining. “You are not a monster.”
There’s something about the way she says it—the kindness in her voice, the tenderness in her eyes, the warmth of her aura… Sephiroth brushes his hair aside, sniveling.
He thinks he believes her.
They leave the manor that very night, Claudia’s love squeezing through his plated shoulder as they return to the surface of the town. Zack pulls Sephiroth into a hug and thanks Claudia profusely for bringing him back, and as Sephiroth hugs him back, as he starts to cry, Cloud watches the scene unfold with a whole spectrum damn full of questions. He goes to stand beside his mother.
“Wow, Ma. What did you do to get the general back?”
Claudia only smiles. “Just what every mother knows best.”
And all of a sudden there’s a giant silver-haired man guy thing towering over Cloud in the family photo. Yippie-do!
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