#yoga instructors

[communiteayoga]

Unveiling the Mysteries of the ECKASHA Mystery School: The Ascension Pathway- Lightbody Activation and the Crystal Gene

Introduction to ECKASHA Mystery School

The ECKASHA Mystery School is an inter-dimensional healing academy designed for Lightworkers, Energy Healers, Sound Healers, and Yoga Instructors. ECKASHA stands for Energetic, Crystal Kundalini, And Sound Healing Ascension, offering guidance through ancient practices from various traditions and mystery schools. Rooted in the Law of One, the school acknowledges that Creator and Creation are One, empowering individuals to take charge of their ascension path and step into their sovereignty, personal power, and freedom.

Foundational Teachings and Practices

The ECKASHA Mystery School combines esoteric teachings from ancient mystery schools and contemporary knowledge to activate the Light body, Flame body, Plasma body, and Krystal body. This holistic approach leads individuals through the 15-dimensional time matrix back to their original Divine Blueprint as Angelic Humans.

Kundalini Yogic Science and Ancient Knowledge

The school's teachings integrate Kundalini Yogic Science with ancient hidden knowledge. Despite attempts to suppress this wisdom, it resurfaces at ECKASHA, offering a unique and powerful amalgamation. The term "ECKASHA" represents the God Seed, the primal energy that forms the infinite multi-dimensional cosmos, fueling consciousness and spiritual growth.

Practices for Spiritual Growth

Students access ECKASHA's energy through meditation, Kundalini yoga, sound healing, light language, sacred geometry, and ascension activation. The "Krystal River" symbolizes a stream of pure, eternal, and non-polarized energy flowing from the ECKASHA Universe, used for spiritual healing and transformation.

Empowering Personal Ascension

ECKASHA Mystery School supports individuals in reversing mutation to their Original Divine Blueprint, activating dormant DNA strands, and achieving their ultimate potential as Angelic Humans and Starseed Avatars. This journey of embodying Source connection leads to personal healing, lasting relief from suffering, and true joy and freedom. Emphasizing personal responsibility, the school encourages students to conduct personal research and seek their own truth, moving beyond reliance on external sources and gurus.

Lightbody Yoga and Additional Services

In addition to its core teachings, ECKASHA Mystery School offers Lightbody Yoga sessions at its retreat center. These sessions teach about Ascension, integrating spiritual energy and consciousness into the physical body through Lightbody Kundalini and Sound healings and activations. Participants gain a head start on their journey towards self-discovery and spiritual growth.

Curriculum Highlights

Energetic Healing Techniques

Training in various energy healing modalities.

Techniques to balance and harmonize the body's energy centers.

Understanding and working with the body's energy fields.

Crystal Kundalini Activation

Practices to awaken and channel Kundalini energy.

Methods to clear energy blockages and enhance spiritual growth.

Using crystals to amplify Kundalini energy and spiritual practices.

Sound Healing and Ascension Activation

Utilization of sound frequencies for healing and spiritual ascension.

Techniques for using the voice and instruments in sound healing.

Guided meditations and sound journeys for deep transformation.

Lightbody and Flame Body Activation

Steps to activate and integrate the Lightbody and Flame body.

Methods to enhance spiritual awareness and higher consciousness.

Practices for connecting with higher dimensions and spiritual guides.

Sacred Geometry and Light Language

Understanding and working with sacred geometric patterns.

Using Light Language for healing and spiritual communication.

Techniques to access higher dimensions through sacred geometry.

Empowerment and Sovereignty

ECKASHA Mystery School emphasizes the importance of personal empowerment and sovereignty. By taking responsibility for their own healing and well-being, students can fully embody their divine potential and experience profound personal growth. This journey leads to a deeper connection with their true self and the universe, fostering a sense of inner peace and fulfillment.

Embrace the Journey

Joining the ECKASHA Mystery School is an invitation to embark on a unique and liberating journey guided by ancient hidden teachings and practices. This inter-dimensional healing academy offers a transformative path for Lightworkers, Energy Healers, Sound Healers, and Yoga Instructors, empowering them to step into their sovereignty, personal power, and freedom. Through a combination of esoteric teachings, Kundalini Yogic Science, and ancient knowledge, students can activate their Lightbody, Flame body, Plasma body, and Krystal body, returning to their original Divine Blueprint as Angelic Humans and Starseed Avatars. Embrace the opportunity to join the ECKASHA Mystery School and unlock your ultimate potential on your ascension path.  We begin October 4-6, 2024 with the first of three Modules.  The first section begins with Sound Healing, Water and Light Codes.  Applications are being accepted now for Online and In person training.

[tonyoga]

Personalized Online Yoga Classes with Expert Instructors | Tonyoga

Improve your practice with Tonyoga's tailored yoga classes. Our expert yoga instructors adapt each class to your specific requirements and goals. Whether you're a novice or an experienced practitioner, our yoga training programs offer comprehensive advice to help you increase your strength, flexibility, and awareness. Join Tonyoga today for personal yoga lessons online and discover the transforming power of personalized yoga instruction.

[baliyogashala]

Meet our exceptional team of the best yoga teachers at Bali Yogashala. With wisdom passed down through generations, they guide you on a transformative journey. Immerse yourself in their expertise, compassion, and dedication. 

Yogi Sachin Ji:

Ashtanga, Vinyasa & Hatha Teacher (Lead Teacher)

Born in the Holy City of Bali, India, which is renowned as The World Capital of Yoga.

Embarked on his yogic journey from a young age.

Met numerous spiritual masters, deepening his practice and becoming a master of Yoga Methodology.

Yogi Sunil Ji:

Vinyasa Flow and Pranayama Teacher

Certified yoga instructor trained in Hatha, Ashtanga, and Iyengar Yoga.

Taught yoga in Mumbai for a year and conducted workshops in China and Indonesia.

Holds a B.A. in Sanskrit Grammar and an M.A. in Yoga Science from Haridwar Sanskrit University.

[elevateyourwellness]

Complete our online questionnaire Your counselor will select you Talk with messages, voice, & video

[inspireyogalisa]

Website : https://www.inspireyogalisa.com/

At Inspire Yoga Lisa, we believe yoga is more than just exercise; it's a path to inner peace and well-being. Lisa, our certified Yoga instructor with a 200-hour Yoga Teaching Training from Yoga Centre, Bermuda, has woven the essence of yoga into her daily life, keeping her attuned to her heart and inner calm.

Discover the Benefits of Yoga: Scientific studies confirm that Yoga enhances flexibility, strength, balance, and posture while calming the mind, reducing stress and anxiety, and promoting holistic wellness.

From Backyard to Community: Lisa's yoga journey began in her own backyard, sharing the practice with friends and family. Now, she proudly serves as the resident yoga instructor at The National Museum Bermuda, offering her expertise to the community. She has also conducted free Yoga sessions for employees and clients at Bermuda Hospitals Board and virtual classes for local and international participants.

Yoga for Everyone: Inspire Yoga Lisa warmly welcomes individuals of all ages, genders, races, body types, and abilities. Lisa's passion lies in encouraging everyone to embrace their unique selves and feel comfortable in their own skin.

Experience Inspire Yoga Lisa: Connect with Lisa today to explore how Inspire Yoga Lisa can enhance your life through the practice of Hatha Yoga.

Yoga in Nature: Many of our classes take place amidst Bermuda's stunning natural beauty, offering a serene backdrop for your Hatha Yoga journey.

Services:

National Museum Bermuda Yoga with Lisa

Yoga at the Botanical Gardens

Join us at Inspire Yoga Lisa and embark on a transformative journey towards inner peace and wellness through Hatha Yoga.

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[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[talkingattumble]

Chronic pain is. Such an unfathomable concept to people. I’ll be like “hey I’m gonna rest for an hour or two because I reached my limit on walking/exercise and I’m in a lot of pain right now” and then a family member or friend will say”actually this article says that’s really bad for you” and the article in question is always something like “Health Tips for the Average Normal Healthy Person by Mike Ablebodied”

Not to mention finding resources like. I’ll find resources by disabled people and it’ll be like “hey exercise is important, but find a way to workout that uses less spoons, and if you’re having a high pain day then take a break, and here’s some exercises you can do from bed”. And then I’ll find some able bodied persons fibromyalgia tips and it’s like “if you don’t walk sixteen miles every day your muscles will atrophy and you’ll die also your mobility aid makes you weak”. Guess which one of those sources I trust more. And now guess which sources the people around me always seem to find and listen to. Are these kinds of things common or am I just unlucky? Does anyone else have this problem?

[estrellami-1]

Breathe In (All of Me)

Part 1

“Mr. Munson,” call-me-Steve says. “Back straight, please, you are not trying out for Notre Dame.” Warm fingertips press into his lower back. “There, much better. Feel the stretch. Let yourself breathe in the fresh air and breathe out all your insecurities.”

“Wish I was breathin’ in a blunt right about now,” Eddie mutters.

Steve steps away and sits with a sigh. “Alright, sit up.” His voice sounds different now, likes he’s completely done with Eddie’s shit. Join the club, pretty boy. “What exactly are you here for?”

Eddie shrugs, rolls his shoulders. Meets Steve’s eyes in a show of defiance when he says, “It was this or rehab two years ago. Rehab didn’t work.” He leans back on his hands, the perfect picture of calm confidence. “This was the more drastic measure.”

“You’re not here because you want to be.” It’s not a question.

Eddie snorts. “What gave it away?”

“Munson. That name’s familiar to me.”

Eddie tilts his head. “Not to toot my own horn, sweetheart, but I’m kinda a household name. Metal band, called Corroded Coffin. I’m the lead singer and guitarist.”

Steve snaps his fingers and points at Eddie. “That’s it! God, my kids are obsessed with you.”

Eddie raises his brows. “Kids?”

Steve shrugs. “Not actually, but yeah. Babysat them when we were younger. Got into some crazy shit. We stuck by each other. Now they call me mom to annoy me.”

Eddie snickers. “And they’re fans, you say?”

“Oh yeah, Dustin? He’s my original kid, it all started with him, he’s super into that-” he wiggles his fingers, “that dragon game, the one with the dice. You do that one podcast, right? With your bandmates?”

“Holy shit, yeah! That thing almost completely flopped, I’m surprised that’s where you know me from.”

Steve snorts, rolls his eyes. “Dustin’s a meddling little shit. Not to toot my horn, sweetheart, but he’s the reason it didn’t completely flop.”

Eddie just raises a brow. Oh, he’s going to be fun.

Steve sighs again and stands. “I think we’ll be done for today. Let’s meet again next week and try something else. Same time work for you?”

Eddie shrugs. “Hey, you’re the doctor.”

Steve grins. “Then where the hell’s my doctor pay?”

Eddie looks him up and down. “I think it went into your uniform.” He grins and walks out the door before Steve can respond.

Steve stares into the full-length mirror. It’s not that bad… right?

He puts the thought out of his mind and strides out to the receptionist’s desk. “Robin.”

“Yeah, I saw him leave. What’re you thinking?”

Steve looks out the door Eddie’d walked out of a minute prior. “I’m thinking puppies.”

[makingfattypay2]

“Still too fat, dude. Just coffee for you,” he says and you stand there and take it. You’ve never had anyone confront you on your food addiction or your increasing weight problem—till now. It’s humiliating but also deeply arousing. You remove the lid of your black coffee and sip. “Learn to enjoy it. That’s all you’ll be getting until you are at a decent weight again.”

[hotluncheddie]

For the lovely @sidekick-hero as part of @steddiesummerexchange

Using the prompt 'meet ugly' which was so fun and pushed me to do some new stuff! so thank you! i hope you enjoy!! 🫂

Ao3 | wc: 6.2k | rated: M | cw: panic attacks | tags: 90's AU, No Upside down, Meet-ugly, Platonic Hellcheer, Background Buckingham, Rockstar Eddie Munson, Yoga Instructor Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson needs a hug

₊✩‧₊

‘Munson, this, there’s nothing here man.’ His manager sighs, looking over Eddie’s scribbled notes. 

Eddie sucks another lungful of his cigarette. arms and legs crossed on the too soft office sofa, foot tapping. 

He knows. 

Of course he knows. 

It’s shit. 

All of it. 

Disjointed song ideas and cord progressions that don’t work outside of a shitty blue grass wannabe and the weird none metal bullshit that somehow got him here; that people keep insisting is grunge.

‘You have till mid June, ready for Lollapalooza in July. Label said so.’ And Jake is a good guy, a good manager, but Eddie wants to rip his skin off and never see this ugly fucking Chicago office building or anyone in it. Ever. Again. 

He wants to write. He wants to create, and perform. 

But he can’t. 

It all shit. There’s nothing here. 

-

He speeds down the interstate. Foot pressing on the accelerator, pressing steadily harder and harder. The speedometer ticking up 10mph, more, 20, more. 

‘Shit, fuck.’ Eddie curses, trying to light the cigarette at his lips. Lighter sparking but no quick catching flame, just the click and fizz, dead. ‘Stupid. Fucking.’ He sniffs, scrubbing at his eyes, tears leaving sticky tracks across his cheeks. 

‘FUCKER!’ He shouts, throwing the shitty bic lighter out of the passenger window, into the inky blackness, scrubbing at his eyes again. 

He can’t fucking see. He needs a fucking cigarette. 

He’s running out of gas, fast. Rain starting to fall, heavy and sleeting. His hissy fit can’t last forever, but the itch is still under his skin. Mind blank to anything that could be remotely useful. He’s so creatively drained it’s a joke. A mean fucking joke handed out by god himself. 

Because Eddie had his whole life to write that album. To pour his brain out and stick it together into a mangled beautiful little thing. 

And now he’s expected to do the same thing. In months. 

And he knows. He knows, it’s possible, and it’s been done, and he has thoughts and feeling and music left inside him. 

But it’s hard. And he’s scared. 

Eddie doesn’t think he’ll ever write another song again. Dry to the bone. Like his Dad always expected. Always knew. Knew he had nothing in him. Good for nothin’. 

Snot drips onto his top lip. He, he can’t see. ‘Fuck.’ He whispers - he. 

The lights of a gas station shine up ahead. 

Tiredness dripping down into his bones, suddenly. 

Eddie pulls off, parks off at the side. 

Punches the steering wheel till his knuckles go bloody. 

‘W-wayne ‘m sorry, I, I just can’t Wayne.’ Eddie stutters into the receiver. The distance between then crackling. Cold wind rattles the glass walls of the little gas station payphone. 

‘Ed’s? I need ya to take a breath for me kid.’ Wayne’s voice sounds deeper through the phone, more smoky. 

Eddie’s hands are shaking so hard he shoves one up under his armpit, can barely feel his fingers, tucking his elbow in close and squeezing. Stomping his feet, trying to ground himself into this time and space. He breaths in through his mouth and nose, shuddering as he tries to get as much air as possible into his frame. Blood pumping loud in his ears, and he still can’t fucking see. 

‘That’s it son, and again for me.’ Wayne says, in the same tone he says most things; calm and plain, for as long as Eddie can remember. 

He only heard his uncle raise his voice a couple of times, and never once over Eddie. It was always the disappointed looks that would get under his skin, keep him on the straight and narrow (or, not straight, and mostly narrow), kept him safe.

The main one that Eddie remembers, was when his dad came. 

His dad came to try and get him, take him home, wherever that was, whatever that meant. Wayne lost his shit, as much as Wayne can. Held his hunting gun too close to his dads heart and told him brother-in-law to ‘Get! Out!’ 

Eddie had hidden behind the arm of the sofa, crouched and only daring to peak over when he heard his dad huff, punching the doorframe once and stepping back to leave. ‘Fine, fine!’ He’d spat. ‘Don’t want the kid anyway.’ He glanced at Eddie then, a dark sort of indifference in his eyes. ‘Fucking useless.’

That darkness fills Eddie now, coating his lungs and stopping the air flowing through. His Dad’s right, he can’t be anything, not really. Doesn’t have it in him. 

Part of him is still there, cowering behind the couch. A coward, still now. Maybe always. 

‘You stop that right now Eddie y’hear? You might be yer Daddy’s son but you’re in no way him. Ain’t no way.’ Wayne says, stern. 

Eddie sobs, palm pressed across his eyes, fingers digging into his temple. ‘Fuck.’ He fucking, he just can’t. 

‘M’sorry Wayne. M’sorry. It’s so stupid but I nearly fucking killed him Wayne, if I wasn’t there he woulda’ got away, woulda’ got away fine.’ 

‘If you make one more excuse for that sack of shit Eddie I’m coming up there myself to talk it outa’ you.’ Wayne says. ‘You were a kid Ed, didn’t do nothin’ wrong other than trustin’ your own Daddy.’ Wayne’s voice softens, making sure Eddie’s still listening. ‘What happened wasn’t your fault kid.’ He says, like it’s final. 

‘Okay.’ Eddie takes a wet breath, shivering. ‘Yeah, okay Wayne, I hear ya.’ Closing his eyes, squeezing the receiver and rolling his forehead across the cool glass of the booth. 

‘You ring Chris for me now Ed, tell her you’ll be home soon. And I’ll ring tomorrow once ‘m off, leave you a message if you’re not in.’ Eddie sniffs again, a few more tears slipping down his cheeks. 

‘Ok Wayne.’ He agrees, it’s easier. He’s so tired. ‘Night.’ 

Eddie sneaks through the door, not sure if he wants a whole pity party right now. He kind of just wants to go to bed. 

Chrissys head pops up over the couch, looking at him with wide, wet eyes. 

Maybe he does want a little party, actually. He feels tears well in his lashes again. 

‘Hey Chris. I um, sorry for leaving. It uh, it’s bad again.’ He admits, voice cracking. 

‘Eddie.’ She soothes, coming around to him by the door and wrapping him in a hug. Holding him so tightly in her skinny arms. Too good for him. ‘I’m sitting with you while you ring the doctor tomorrow okay? And you’re coming to yoga with me Thursday.’ She says, wiping Eddie’s tears with her sleeve. ‘And I don’t want any buts mister.’ She mumbles darkly, squeezing his waist when Eddie snorts. 

‘Fine. I, fucking, anything to not feel like this anymore Chris.’ He sighs, he’s so tired. ‘Even fuckin’ yoga.’ And he knows she can hear his eyes roll but she just squeezes him again, humming. 

He buries his face in her neck. Taking deep breaths, till the shuddering goes away. 

-

They’re in the coffee shop below the yoga studio. Eddie’s anxious, already itching for another cigarette even though he finished his last one right before entering the cafe, not five minutes ago, shivering against the cold wind. He didn’t sleep last night, or get any words out, he just watched the shopping channel all curled up on the couch, biting his nails and wishing for something to come change him. 

But he’s here, as much as he doesn’t want to be. He trusts Chrissy, and the last call with the label about the very none negotiable schedule for a new song release in conjuncture with the tour has him ready to try anything. 

Even fucking yoga. 

‘I just don’t see how this is going he help Chrissy, it’s just breathing and shit.’ Eddie says loudly, stress making him obnoxious, the bell above the cafe door tinkling. ‘It’s not gonna help me get stronger. Plus it’s wrapped up in all that pseudoscience bullshit. Just trying to make money off unhappy people and their shit.’ He’s staring down and the flyer in his hand. They were on the counter and Chrissy had shoved it at his chest as she ordered. Probably a queue for him to shut up. 

‘Who the hell even is Stevie anyway?’ Eddie asks, flapping the paper around. It’s pink, with bold black writing and the outline of a striped flag in the corner. Hm. 

But no, gay yoga is still yoga, Eddie won’t be converted that easily. 

‘Chrissy, hey!’ Comes a deep voice from behind him, making Eddie jump. When he turns his arms fall limp at his sides. 

Golden skin and soft brown eyes. Hair that curls around his ears and sits on his head in a highlighted swoop; kinda messy, like he runs his fingers through it. Little gold hoop in his ear, neck covered in moles. Beautiful. 

They’re around the same height but this guy is broader, thick and sturdy with a layer of squish over his muscle, a layer of chest hair over his pecs, peaking out of his tank. He could suffocate Eddie with those thighs. Eddie could take great pride in holding all that bulk down, making him scre- 

‘Stevie! Hey!’ she beams. ‘Eddie meet Steve Harrington. And Stevie, this is Eddie Munson, my best friend.’ Chrissy say, introducing them and pulling the stranger into a side hug. 

Eddie can’t think straight. 

This, is Stevie?

The barista calls his name, Eddie coming back to himself to turn and grab his order. Plaster some kind of smile on his face in leu of an actual human greeting. 

Chrissys looking at him, smiling like she knows something. Knows more than Eddie does. 

He sips his tea. Doesn’t look at her. 

‘…Well nice to meet you man, I’ll see you both in there.’ Steve says, pointing his thumb towards the door. ‘just wanted to say hi. Gotta go prep some more pseudoscience bull before it all starts.’ He says, clapping. Smiling at Eddie like a fucking Stepford wife. Eddie gapes at him. Steve winks. 

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut. 

Slimy fucking guy. Eddie seethes, sipping his tea, watching Stevie leave. He looks like he could be the son of any of the record execs that’ve tried to fuck over Eddie’s music. Breathing down his neck to get another hit album, like Eddie has any control over that, can get himself to write anything like that again. Like he can handle the plans for a tour next spring, into the summer for festivals, said they want new songs to keep the fans interested. Fucking Steve looking at him like that, all spotless and put together and prefect and Eddie cannot fucking let this guy beat him. Not today. 

‘What does that look mean?’ Chrissy asks, amused. 

‘Means that I’m about to have the best fucking yoga session that guy has ever seen.’ Eddie says, still glaring at where Steve had just been. He hooks his arm through Chrissy’s and heads for the door. 

The studio is a renovated townhouse with hardwood floors and long windows. There’s a wall of mirrors and a bar across one wall, aerobics equipment stacked in the corner.

Eddie finds a spot with Chrissy nearer the back, but the rooms really not that big, he can see Steve’s set up at the front just fine. 

Chrissy leave his side to go pay, and apparently flirt with the tall freckled girl who’s taking said payments. Standing in the corner with a clipboard and a laugh that ends in a snort. That must be Robin, Chrissys long time yoga crush, and by the way Robin playful taps Chrissy on the head with her pen, she’s not doing too badly. 

Looking around Eddie’s surprised that there’s other people like him, with tattoos and some more visible piercings. 

Older ladies with pink in their hair. A younger guy with a cane and a Prince shirt on. People of different sizes, colours, shapes.  

Steve is making his way around the room, talking to people, he knows most of them by name. 

It’s. It’s almost nice. 

But when Eddie looks at Steve all he sees are the jocks who spat on him in high-school. The rich kids who said they couldn’t be friends because their parents found out he lives in a trailer. People who look at him with awkward, dead eyed pity when he mentions his uncle but not his parents. 

Steve walks over, snapping Eddie out of his head. ‘Hey, so Chrissy knows how it goes. But Eddie, I want you to take it easy tonight, okay? First session means you should be careful.’ 

Eddie leans back on his palms, festered. ‘Don’t think I can handle it Steven?’ 

Steve doesn’t take the bate, neutral face barely twitching. ‘Have you done yoga before?’ 

‘No’ 

Steve crosses his arms. ’Then no, I don’t think you can handle it actually. Last thing I want is you disturbing my class because you pulled a muscle being dumb, kay?’ 

Eddie just grunts, smiling at him in a little closed lipped sneer. Jerking his head and clenching his jaw. 

Stevie just rolls his eyes, walks away. 

Eddie hates him. 

Fucking yoga. How hard could it fucking be…

Eddie muscles are burning. He takes it back he takes it back. 

But he can’t let Steve know. Can’t bare to see that smug little smirk on his face again. 

‘Stay here if you're comfortable. But, if you want a little push tonight’ Steve says to the room, eyes flashing to Eddie in warning. ‘Move with me.’ And he bends down to touch the floor, hands then coming away, held in place by his core. 

‘Fuck’ Eddie grunts, tries releasing his hands but he comes too close to toppling over. His palms are sweating and his hair is sticking to his neck. Fucking yoga… 

‘Just breathing and shit right Munson?’ Steve says as Eddie spaces out on his mat, session over. Eddie can see more thigh at the angle, up the stupid fucking shorts Steve’s wearing. A little patch of sweat on his tank, sticking to his chest hair. 

‘Whatever Harrington.’ He grunts, forcing himself to sit up. Not looking Steve in the eye. 

Everything hurts. Even his fucking brain hurts from trying to imagine the smooth lake that Steve talked about during the ending meditation. Eddie couldn’t seem to imagine his without a ghostly pirate ship bobbing in the middle of the water. 

Fucking yoga. 

-

‘I hate him.’ 

‘Yeah sure, next thing you’ll be pulling his pigtails’ Chrissy rolls her eyes. ‘You don’t even know him, and I heard how well you slept after the session, your snoring woke me up Ed’s. Don’t give up just because the teacher is hot.’

‘He is not hot!’ Eddie seethes. 

He is so hot. So, so incredibly hot. 

Chrissy raises one eyebrow. 

‘Fine. I’ll keep going. but I hate him. ‘ 

-

One session, a few weeks in, Eddie feels it.

He dips down, back bending, coming out of downwards dog. Flowing onto his palms and toes. He breaths, feels his blood flow in his veins and his lungs fill. Rising back up and feeling the stretch in his feet, in his shoulders and hips. He breaths through it, moving with himself, connected to himself. 

Mind blank, room gone, just him and his breath. The smooth voice of Steve telling them to repeat. Eddie does. His eyes close and his mind smooths out. He flows. 

He doesn’t look at Steve again. Misses the glint in his eye, noticing the space Eddie holds on his mat, the tensions that’s been released. Misses Steve’s smile. 

Eddie breathes in. A chord progression plays in his mind. 

He breaths out. It plays again. 

It works perfectly with that scribbled line he re read this afternoon. 

Eddie breaths in. 

He goes home and writes. 

-

Winter eventually thaws and Spring begins slowly, slush still gripping to the sidewalks as the sun peaks through thick clouds. 

Eddie continues to work on demos, that don’t quite hurt so much to look at anymore, and goes to yoga once a week.

Twice a week for a couple weeks now, while Chrissy is away visiting family. Eddie doesn’t want to disturb her too much by phoning. But he misses her, the apartment too quiet, and empty. 

He gets to class early. Kind of exited to feel the stretch in his muscles tonight, see if he can hit the lower warrior stance he’s been working on. Any excitement sifts into annoyance though, once he sees Steve, mingling, in a bright pink shirt and shorts that sit way too high up on his thighs. Eddie’s not a prude, but, does he really need to see so much leg hair and smooth inner thigh when he’s trying to work out? Trying to relax?

‘Ready to feel the burn Munson?’ Steve asks as he saunters past him, clicking on the boombox as he goes

‘Bite me Harrington, ‘m not in the mood.’ Eddie says. annoyed. Always annoyed that Steve is still as fucking handsome as last time. Always so annoyingly handsome. 

He misses Chrissy. 

He’s annoyed

Steve’s shorts are too fucking short… 

Steve’s smug smile does not go unnoticed when Eddie actually falls asleep during the wind down meditation. Steve had skipped the ending applause and instead ushered everyone out quietly, leaving Eddie to sleep for a solid 20 minutes while he packed up. 

Eddie has glared, not able to extend any gratitude to that being the best sleep he’s had all week, his cheeks bright red at being caught. But Steve’s smugness seemed to be thawing with the ice. A softness to his eyes as he bid Eddie goodnight; once Eddie had wrapped himself back up in his winter coat for the walk home. 

Eddie couldn’t help but say goodnight back. ‘See you next week Harrington’ Didn’t seem to sound so bitter anymore. 

-

Eddie watches Chrissy try and show Robin an old cheer move, somehow moving topics once Chrissy had added her money to the pot. Robin’s arms don’t seem to stay straight for long enough, too distracted so she looses form. Chrissy giggling and reaching over to grab her wrist and squeeze. 

‘You two been dating long?’ Steve asks, suddenly next to Eddie and joining him in watching the two girls dance around each other. Eddie gives him such a look of confusion and judgment that Steve puts his hands up in defence. 

‘I’m joking dude, Rob’s been crazy about her for months. Too bad she’s too chicken shit to ask her out.’ 

‘I know, I’m honestly just glad she’s real, Chris wouldn’t shut up about her.’ 

‘Tell her to make it obvious, would you? More obvious that she would expect, Robbie needs that.’ And Steve is smiling, eyes sparking as he looks at them. 

Eddie nods, and he doesn’t know why he feels the need to say what’s he’s going to, why he needs to explain. Why he feels like Steve needs to know, but.: ‘We uh, both swing away from each other on the ol’ spectrum, just so, so that we’re clear.’ 

And Steve is looking at him. At the side of Eddie’s head, because he refuses to see what kind of face Steve is making. 

‘That right?’ Steve says quietly. ‘Well, good to know.’ 

Eddie.. he. ‘Good?’ 

‘Yeah good.’ And Steve’s voice is soft. And Eddie still doesn’t know why but, he blushes. 

And Steve’s moving away and calling Robin to start the session. 

Eddie doesn’t look up from his mat. 

-

He can’t be in the apartment anymore. Going stir crazy, buzzing, trapped in his own head. Its too early, class doesn’t start yet. But Eddie needs out. 

Chrissy isn’t going tonight, working late. The weatherman said there might be a thunder storm in the early hours. the rain already started, pelting his windows and sending a deep swirling ache dripping through Eddie’s nervous system. 

It’s raining so hard he can barely see in front of him but he manages to slop to the studio in one piece, waterproof and face dripping all over the floor. 

It’s warm, once he’s through the doors, the now familiar soft yellow lighting and smell of hardwood greeting him. 

He can hear laughing from the usual room. Moving closer can hear Robin and Steve giggling about something. 

Eddie slips through the door, not really sure what to do but he’s almost ready to admit that he craves the soft light of the familiar yoga room. 

He slips through the door and the first crack of lightning snaps in the distance. 

Steve is in a head stand, giggling and telling robin to knock it off, whatever she’s said making him almost loose his balance. 

Upside down Eddie can see Steve’s back, his T-shirt up around his shoulders. 

There’s old raised lines of jagged scars all along the planes of skin and muscle. Sewn back together and healed all wonky. 

Eddie’s mouth is dry as he stares at them. The muscles moving under Steve’s skin, the softness at his hips. Eddie gulps. 

His dad setting the stupid boat house on fire, once he’d heard the sirens, not leaving enough room between himself and the gasoline. Throwing the lighter while he was off balance. The flames licking his arms and face. He told Eddie to run. Eddie did. 

Eddies mat slips from his fingers and smacks against the floor. Steve coming down from his position and turning around, shirt falling back and covering him. ‘Sorry, sorry.’ Eddie stammers, not sure what about. His hands are sweating. Steve, with skin like that. He’s not his Dad, he’s not. 

Eddie doesn’t even know if his Dad is out of prison. The lightning cracks again, closer. It was raining the day of the verdict, the courthouses grey brick so waterlogged it looked black. 

Eddie can barely look at him. Who even is this guy? 

‘Hey man, you okay?’ Steve asks, voice soft and Eddie needs to leave. He needs to leave. 

‘Water.’ Eddie slips back out of the room, into the hallway and he speed walks down the corridor to the water cooler. Thudding his shoulder into the wall next to it and sliding down into a crouch. Thunder claps and rattles its deep booming cry. 

His breath is shaky, a little too fast. When he closes his eyes he sees the black smoke and orange flames licking the forest skyline as he ran. Feet pumping and sweat dripping into his eyes. His dad told him to run. So he had. Leaving him there. 

Eddie can barely breathe. He’s already run for so long, the sirens faint and distant. His dad’s cold eyes on him in the hospital; burns unit. In court. Wayne dragging Eddie home in tears. Soaking wet. 

His head jerks and smacks the wall behind him. Pulling him back to the present. The wet slap of his hair against his cheek. Eddie can’t breath, his hands are shaking and, and. 

Steve is crouched in front of him, lips moving but Eddie can’t hear him over the blood rushing in his ears. 

Steve counts on his fingers; one, two, three. Holding them up for Eddie to see. Then his other hand reaches forward and pokes Eddie in the sternum over his slimy waterproof. Steve breaths in, fingers counting again. Steve hold it, fingers. He breaths out, fingers. 

For the next round Eddie follows, hands shaking and cupping over his ears. He breaths in, unable to hold it but he breaths everything in his lungs out. Does it again. Following the count of Steve’s fingers. He has a plaster over his thumb. Eddie wonders what happened. Eddie’s breaths in, holds it for three, breaths out. 

Eventually Eddie can breathe on his own, still shaky, but consistent. The thunder and lightning having moved off into the distance. 

Steve gets him a cup of water from the cooler, handing it over slowly and Eddie grips it in both hands. ‘You scared me there Munson.’ He says without heat. 

‘Yeah I, sorry.’ Eddie cheeks burn, it’s been, a long time since he’s had one like that. 

‘S’okay. I know these are pretty scary.’ Steve motions to his back, shifting to sit against the wall next to Eddie. Sad sort of smile pulling on his lips. 

Eddie panics. ‘No, no that. They’re, they’re not.’ Because they really aren’t. He just, he wasn’t expecting it. 

‘I’m kidding Eddie, you’re good.’ Steve says, smiling for real now, small wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Those will look pretty as he ages, Eddie’s thinks. He nods. 

Steve nods back, eyes Eddie, flicking over his face. ‘You wanna do class tonight? I can take you home?’ 

‘Oh uh no.’ Eddie drains his water. ‘I mean no, I want to do class. It um, it helps.’ He stares into the little plastic water cup. 

But in his peripheral, Steve is smirking, smug as shit and Eddie tries to scowl. But he just ends up hiding his grin behind his hair. 

‘Let me give you a lift home after though, yeah?’ Steve asks, bumping their shoulders together. ‘Storm isn’t due to let up until tomorrow and I can’t have one of my best students getting sick.’ Steve says, standing up from the floor with an ease that Eddie still envy's. Holding his big hands out to haul Eddie up. 

It takes a second to reorient himself, Steve is, Steve is pretty strong. ‘Uh, thanks. Thank you, Steve.’ He manages, squeezing Steve’s fingers once. 

‘Don’t mention it.’ And Steve’s eyes are soft and kind and endless. 

Eddie pulls away. Slips down the corridor and back into the studio. 

Steve’s car is nice. A beemer that’s a few years out but it looks like he takes care of it. The interior cream and the leather soft, it’s tidy, and there’s an air freshener hanging from the mirror, a pinup of a sailor. Eddie flicks it, smirking. 

‘Gift from Robin. We used to uh, work at a sailor themed ice cream shop. The uniforms were, really somethin’.’ Steve says with a pained sigh, pulling into the street. 

Eddie smiles, aggressively forcing his mind away from Steve in any kind of sailor uniform, steering towards safer territory. 

‘Can I?’ He asks, motioning to Steve’s little box of tapes at his feet. 

‘Have at it man.’ Steve says, squinting slightly and turning up the speed on his wipers. 

Eddie picks the new Queen tape, Steve has a decent collection, a lot of pop and some 70s rock. Eddie nodding his head slightly to “innuendo”. 

He sneaks glances at Steve as he drives. His hand big and veined where it rests on the gear shift. There are raindrops stuck in his arm hairs and the bomber he slipped on is dark across the shoulders. He doesn’t really look anything like those record execs, or their sons, probably. His socks are mismatched and there’s a spot of stubble on his upper lip that he must’ve missed this morning. He runs a yoga studio and is aggressively accommodating when he teaches. He always learns clients names before the end of their first session and he loves his best friend. 

Eddie feels his fringe sticking to his forehead, half sweat half rain. The car windows are slightly misted and he blinks a few times to clear his eyes. ‘Thanks, uh, thank you. For the lift man. You really didn’t have to.’ 

Steve smiles at him, glancing away from the road. Some of his hair has tucked itself into the his little hoop earring, something in Eddie’s chest softening. ‘Do you want to talk about it? Earlier?’

Eddie, he doesn’t. Not really. 

‘It was raining the day my dad got sent to prison. Thunder and lightning by the time my uncle could got me home.’ Eddie settles on, voice thick.

‘Fuck, Eddie. I’m so sorry.’ 

‘’S fine. I’m, he wasn’t that great of a dad.’ Eddie huffs, he really doesn’t want to get into that. 

Steve glances at him, smile sad. ‘I’ll cheers to that man. But yeah, still.’ He shrugs. 

‘Thanks. Um, if you take a left here my place is just at the end.’ Eddie says, quietly, tired. 

They arrive at the base of his apartment, the rain hammering on the roof and blurring the glow of the yellow streetlight. Eddie moves for the door, hand on the mat between his knees. 

‘Oh hey, wait, uh.’ Steve says, moving in a little closer. 

He reaches out, fingertips brushing the soft skin below Eddie’s eye. ‘Eyelash.’ He murmurs, holding the little hair up for Eddie to see. ‘Make a wish.’ 

Eddie swallows, feels the ghost of tear tracks still crusted over his cheeks. A boy just touched his cheek. He sniffs.

When he was a kid and his dad remembered his birthday he’d get Eddie a slice of pie from the diner. Linda who worked there always managed to find a candle out back for him; squeezing his shoulder and giving Eddie a smile that only read a little bit like pity. His dad would tell him to make a wish and ask for money, or fame, or for Al to one day own a new Mustang. 

Eddie always wished for the same thing.

For something to change. 

Figured something had to give. 

Now Eddie thinks about it, again, and maybe evrything has changed. Maybe everything is exactly what it looks like, and he’s here, in the centre of it. And there are parts, parts that are quite beautiful. 

He breathes in, opening his eyes and watching the eyelash flutter away on his breath. Eddie wishes to be able to see it.

-

‘Mind if I touch you?’ Steve asks from behind Eddie. ‘You almost have it.’ 

Eddie starts, muscles shaking a little. ’Sure, sure Stevie.’ He whispers. 

Steve’s warm finger press gently under Eddie’s arm so he lifts it slightly. Then on his shoulders so they dip minutely lower. Finally his palms wrap around Eddie’s waist, twisting him so he’s facing forward more fully. 

Eddie breaths out the air he’d been holding, long and slow, sinking into the pose. 

‘That’s it. Perfect.’ Steve soothes and moves on to the next person. 

Eddie falls asleep that night with the phantom press of palms on his waist. 

-

It’s raining again, but, no thunder. On a Tuesday, the session that Chrissy and Robin can’t make. The session that only Eddie attends in his now comfortable bi-weekly yoga routine. 

The night that it’s also routine for Steve to drive Eddie home. 

Tonight Steve wore a long sleeve and track pants to class. It’s not that unusual but, it’s warmer out now. So, a little unusual for Steve really, who’s usually sweaty during class even with ice clinging to the windows. 

He’s quiet too, doesn’t roll his eyes at Eddie playing one of the handful of tapes that he’d squirrelled into the car for these short rides. Doesn’t bat Eddie’s hand away from the temperature dials, telling Eddie to zip his coat up if he’s so frail. 

Tonight Steve is just quiet, moving the class into child’s pose three times. Leaving the ending meditation in silence. His breath wavering on the classes final group goodnight. 

‘…Steve? Are you okay?’ Eddie finally asks, the quiet too suffocating, the downward pinch of Steve’s mouth making Eddie’s heart feel heavy and rotted. 

‘Hm? Yeah, I’m just. Bad day, scars itch.’ And Steve smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks almost sadder. 

‘Can, uh. How did? I mean, you don’t. But.’ Eddie stammers, he’s never been much good at comforting but if Steve needs someone to listen, he can do that. Wants to. 

Steve sighs, pulling up next to the sidewalk, Eddie’s apartment just at the end of the street, cutting the ignition so it’s just the two of them, and the rain. 

‘They’re from a car accident. When I was 18. I, shouldn’t have been driving, it was so stupid. I wasn’t drunk or anything just, upset. Had a fight with my Dad, bad one. This other car was driving, pulling up along side me. It was this asshole from my high-school asking to race. I said yes like an idiot. But I was so, so angry. At everything. I thought, winning maybe, winning and wiping that smug fucking look from his face. Would like, help?’ 

Eddie doesn’t really know what to say, or do. Steve is picking at the skin on his knuckles, the joints going red and raw. So Eddie takes his hand, holding his finger between both of his own; smoothing his thumb over its ridges. 

Steve sniffs, corner of his mouth tucking up, bottom lip wobbling. ‘Anyway, we’re driving way too fucking fast and then there are these kids, suddenly, biking on the road. And, and this asshole, he speeds up. Planned on running straight into them, I could see it in his, cold fucking eyes. And I just, I swerved. Went right into him. Better me than those kids u know?’ Steve runs his free hand through his hair, laughing in a way though could just as easily be a sob. ‘He got off without much of a scratch, but uh, my door crumpled against a tree and like, fucked up my back a load, got these scars and aches and stuff now. Didn’t get charged with anything, luckily. Those kids actually vouched for me, babysat them here and there and, now we’re actually friends, as much as they annoy the shit outa me.’ And Steve’s cheeks are red, wetness glistening in his lash line, threatening to spill. He sniffs again, scoffing and turning his head away. 

Eddie pulls their joined hands into his lap, so Steve turns back towards him again. He’s hunched; looks young, and scared, and tired. 

‘But, yeah. I dunno why I told you all that honestly but. I guess. Anger only gets you so far, usually somewhere stupid. That’s my, uh, my pro tip I guess. Harder to forgive but way better for you.’ 

The silence stretches again, more comfortable this times. Eddie runs his thumb over the downy hairs on Steve fingers, over the scar by his thumb. Massages his palms, digging fingers into sinew. 

‘You know, I hated you that first session.’ Eddie says, tired of the ache that Steve’s tears are causing in his ribs. Tired of being angry, tired of being scared. 

‘Yeah.’ Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes, grin stretching slow and sweet. Like it’s a good memory, a memory to savour. 

‘Yeah. Too fucking handsome for his own good this guy. And charming, and rightfully cocky; you’re good at your job Stevie. Really good, and it pissed me the fuck off.’ Eddie says, his own smile stretching.

And Steve laughs, a honking snoring ugly little thing and it makes Eddie heart swell, his cheeks flush and his cheeks hurt from smiling so big. 

Steve is looking at him, tears gone. 

‘You wanna go get something to eat? The diner around the corner does really good cheeseburgers? My treat?’ 

‘Yeah Eddie, I’d, um, I’d really like that.’ Steve says.

-

‘We’re going to get coffee, don’t wait up.’ Chrissy shouts at them, linking arms with Robin and pulling her down the street. 

Robin sends Steve one wild grin, honking a delighted snort of laughter and following Chrissy. 

‘Well.’ Eddie says at Steve who’s grinning like a loon. 

‘Home?’ Steve asks, twirling his keys on his finger. 

Eddie nods and get in, so used to the smell and the feel of the car now. The way Steve drives with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping on the window ledge or fiddling with the temperature or gesticulating as he talks. Eddie comfortable in the passenger, curled up in his sweater and squeezing the mat between his knees. Some rides home he realises he didn’t even take a glance out of the window, eyes set on Steve the whole time. 

‘Hey, do you want to come up?’ Eddie ask. 

‘Come up and do what?’ And Steve’s smiling at him, cocky and confident and sweet and Steve. 

Eddie leans forward, kissing the corner of Steve’s mouth, which is a little stubbly from his moustache coming in. Where he smirks and licks his lips before a difficult pose. He’s Steve Harrington, and Eddie kissed him. 

-

‘Hey Wayne.’ Eddie smiles, squeezing the receiver. 

‘Hey kid, you all packed.’ Wayne sounds tired but relaxed and Eddie nudges the box by his foot, full of merch ready to load in the van come morning. 

‘Yeah, just a few more bits, Steve just left so, got distracted.. you remember Steve, he my, the uh, the yoga instructor?’ Eddie asks, cheeks flushing. 

 ‘Mmm I ‘member Steve. You sweet on him boy?’ 

‘Yes Wayne, he is!’ Chrissy shouts as she walks past. 

Eddie jumps and almost hisses at her like a cat. She, where did she even come from?

Wayne’s smoky laughter draws Eddie back to the phone. ‘I. God Wayne are you 12?’ But that just makes him laugh more. 

‘I’m going okay? Love you old man, I’ll call when I can.’ 

‘Love ya too ed, be safe. I’ll come visit once you’re back. Wanna meet this Steve everyone keeps going on about.’ 

Eddie huffs but he can’t help smiling, imagining Steve and Wayne together. 

‘You deserve someone good Ed, ye understand?’ 

Eddie blinks, blinks back tears. The things he has around him now, the people, the tools, his music. What he’s been given. What he always wished for. 

‘Yeah, yeah Wayne, I think I do.’ 

₊✩‧₊

Tag list: @pearynice @scoops-aboy86 @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @cheesedoctor @chickensinrainboots

@marvel-ous-m @tangerinesteve

title form 'Today' but The Smashing Pumpkins

[stefsimz]

𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎🤸🏼‍♀️🧘🏼‍♀️🎧

[tharkflark1]

I’m REALLY tired so have my Bonnie attempts

[greenplumbboblover]

Life is Sunniest in Sunset Valley - Chapter 9

@twinsimming Figured I'd go check out your wonderful mod!! :)

[esta-elavaris]

Love my how my 17 year old self could go from chemistry class to jogging laps around a field with 0 stretching or warmup but my 27 y/o self has to drag herself through an hour of agonising stretches every night so her hips don’t seize up xoxo

[hathayogashram]

Mastering the Art of Teaching: A Comprehensive Guide to 300 Hour Yoga Teacher Training

Many aspiring yoga teachers start their journey by completing a 200 hour yoga teacher training. This lays a solid foundation, allowing you to confidently lead classes for beginners. However, taking your skills to the next level as a teacher requires dedicating time to deepen your practice and knowledge. This is where a 300 hour yoga teacher training comes in.

In a 300 hour yoga teacher training, you take your foundational understanding from a 200 hour and expand upon it greatly. The result is a comprehension of yoga that allows you to progress further as an instructor.

In this comprehensive guide, we will explore everything you need to know about 300 hour yoga teacher training programs.

Prerequisites for 300 Hour Yoga Teacher Training

Before enrolling in a 300 hour training, you must first complete a 200 hour yoga teacher certification. Some schools may require that your 200 hours cover certain topics like anatomy, philosophy, and sequencing. Having one year of teaching experience is also commonly encouraged. This ensures you have a solid base to build upon.

If your 200 hour training was not in depth, taking additional workshops in areas like adjustment techniques prior to your 300 hours can be helpful provided by Hathayogashram. Coming in with a curiosity to learn will set you up for success.

Key Topics Covered in 300 Hour Yoga Teacher Training

While each 300 hour program differs, most aim to expand your skills in:

Advanced Sequencing and Planning - Taking an in-depth look at planning classes, workshops, retreats. Learning to sequence intelligently for specific groups, energy levels, and goals.

Anatomy and Alignment - Building an expert-level understanding of functional anatomy and biomechanics for safe, effective poses and sequences.

Adjustments and Assisting - Refining hands-on assisting with in-depth adjustments methodology. Learning to see each student's unique body.

Teaching Methodology - Developing your voice and style as a teacher. Learning to hold space, cue skillfully, and facilitate transformational experiences.

Pranayama, Meditation, Chanting - Expanding your own practice and tools forguiding others in breathwork, meditation, mantras, and chanting.

Yogic Philosophy and Spirituality - Deepening your knowledge of yoga's philosophical and spiritual roots to integrate themes authentically into classes.

Business Skills - Building your brand, marketing yourself as a teacher, and establishing your own studio or teacher training program.

Benefits of 300 Hour Yoga Teacher Training

Investing in a 300 hour yoga teacher certification allows you to:

Build mastery as a teacher - Gain the advanced skills and confidence needed to teach diverse populations safely and effectively.

Increase credibility & opportunities - Have a more competitive edge as a teacher. Increased hiring potential and rates.

Deepen your own practice - Dedicate focused time to learning new perspectives that will continually advance your personal yoga practice.

Specialize your teaching - Study intricacies of specific styles like Ashtanga, Iyengar, or Vinyasa flow to guide others in them.

Find your unique voice - Develop your authentic style and learn to share yoga in a way that only you can.

Network & community - Surround yourself with like-minded practitioners who will support and inspire you on your path.

Immerse in yoga lifestyle - Live and breathe your practice fully through an intensive immersion training environment.

Tips for Choosing the Right 300 Hour Yoga Teacher Training

Make sure the program is Yoga Alliance certified - This ensures quality standards are met.

Read reviews and testimonials from past trainees

Look for experienced, knowledgeable teachers that inspire you

Consider the style and focus - Do you want something general or specialized?

Examine the schedule and structure - Do learning modules fit your goals? Is there time for self-study?

Ensure the location inspires you - Whether home studio or exotic retreat, it should deepen your practice.

Confirm you meet all prerequisites

Get a sense of the community and network it offers graduates

By selecting a 300 hour yoga teacher training that resonates with your needs, you will be well on your way to taking your practice and teaching to the next level. Immerse yourself in the transformative experience!