#Tricep Extensions:

[starryeyesmasc]

just flexed in the mirror and saw my triceps pop more than they ever have before. we stay winning

[dufrau]

andrei's health plan apparently gives him a stipend for like things that are good for you or something??? anyway. i have decided i will be getting some heavier weights on that dime.

[freeonlineworkouts]

Cable Overhead Triceps Extension

The Cable Overhead Triceps Extension is a great exercise to isolate and strengthen your triceps. Here's a breakdown of how to perform it correctly:

1. Starting Position:

Attach a Rope: Attach a rope handle to the high pulley of a cable machine.

Stand Tall: Stand facing away from the pulley with your feet shoulder-width apart.

Grasp the Rope: Grasp the ends of the rope with an overhand grip (palms facing each other).

Raise the Rope: Raise the rope overhead, keeping your elbows close to your head and your upper arms stationary.

2. Execution:

Extend Your Arms: Extend your arms upwards, squeezing your triceps at the top of the movement.

Lower Slowly: Slowly lower the rope back down to the starting position.

3. Key Points:

Control the Movement: Avoid swinging the rope or using momentum. Focus on a controlled and deliberate movement.

Maintain Form: Keep your core engaged and your back straight throughout the exercise.

Breathe Properly: Exhale as you extend your arms and inhale as you lower the rope.

4. Common Mistakes to Avoid:

Flaring Your Elbows: Keep your elbows close to your head to ensure that you're targeting your triceps effectively.

Using Too Much Weight: This can lead to poor form and potential injuries.

Swinging the Rope: Using momentum to lift the rope can reduce the effectiveness of the exercise and increase the risk of injury.

5. Variations:

One-Arm Overhead Triceps Extension: Perform the exercise with one arm at a time.

Seated Overhead Triceps Extension: Perform the exercise while sitting on a bench.

6. Safety Considerations:

If you experience any pain, stop the exercise immediately and consult with a healthcare professional.

If you're new to this exercise, it's always a good idea to consult with a qualified fitness professional for proper guidance and form correction.

By following these guidelines, you can effectively perform Cable Overhead Triceps Extensions and build stronger triceps.

[roger9985]

tricep extension

tricep extension

Your ultimate AI-powered fitness resource, designed to help you build strength, muscle, and confidence while achieving real results. Explore expert-crafted training techniques, targeted workouts, and personalized advice tailored to your fitness level. Unlock your full potential with our app—an intelligent tool that adapts to your goals and transforms your workouts with science-backed precision.

[fitnfemme]

Get Toned Arms with Weights: The Best Exercises for Results

Check out this blog post to learn about the best exercises for toning your arms with weights and how they can help you get the results you’re looking for!

Are you looking for the best way to get toned arms with weights? If so, you’ve come to the right place! Weight training is an effective way to tone your arms and build strength. In this blog post, we’ll discuss some of the best exercises for toning your arms with weights and how they can help you get the results you’re looking for. One of the best exercises for toning your arms with weights is…

[stellardeer]

Yeah I was kind of following both sides and willing to see where their argument was going until that shit, like do you really think most people in any of the fields listed wouldn't LOVE to dedicate their life to honing skills in multiple different fields of study?

Granted, as an engineering major I did often hear remarks from other students going into biology like "oh I could never do all that math" but I don't believe that they are genuinely incapable of learning and comprehending the material, but rather it's the given time frame and the way in which it is taught in some cases that bars people from exploring those topics. Not to mention, I've also heard enough physics and maths student griping about their gen chem or anatomy classes because it's "too much memorization," which just further exemplifies the point OP was trying to make about there possibly being different types of intelligence that we could theoretically measure but not "intelligence" as a whole. Just because someone is good at solving puzzles doesn't mean they have good recall and vice versa.

Also, I know anecdotal evidence doesn't mean much, but in my personal experience, everyone is capable of understanding mathematical concepts if they are taught in a way that actually makes sense to them. I have helped tutor so many people who just needed to have things explained in terms that made sense to them, which I think suggests there are social factors at play, like how you were educated in your formative years and what kind of language you're familiar with to describe certain concepts. But I haven't actually read studies that explore this kind of idea, so I can't make any actual arguments here, I just refuse to agree that a biologist could never be a mathematician purely due to lack of intellectual capability.

Not to mention the time and money factor, most people give up on subjects that they don't immediately excel at because they don't want to waste years and tens of thousands of dollars to keep trying until they get it right. And most working adults don't care to spend what little free time they have in their life going back and learning subjects they failed, they're too busy doing chores and raising kids and fucking relaxing in the few peaceful hours they get to themselves.

Can you explain in what what you think eugenics doesn't work? Does this basically boil down to skepticism about the accuracy of GWAS studies? My understanding is that academic consensus is "G probably exists, disentangling direct genetic inheritance vs genetic cultural inheritance is complicated but possible, we can identify a number of alleles which we're reasonably confident are directly causally involved in having a higher G factor"

when it comes to intelligence, its heritability, and its variation at the population level, my understanding of the science is:

highly adaptive traits don't, in fact, vary much at the genetic level between populations of a species because they are strongly selected for. in an environment where a trait is being strongly selected for, a population that failed to express that trait strongly will be rapidly outcompeted.

intelligence is probably the quintessential such trait for humans. we have sacrificed a great deal of other kinds of specialization in favor of our big brains. we spend an enormous amount of calories supporting those brains. tool use, the ability to plan for the future, the ability to navigate complex social situations and hierarchies in order to secure status, the ability to model the minds of others for the purposes of cooperation and deception means that we should expect intelligence to be strongly selected for for as long as our lineage has been social and tool-using, which is at least the last three million years or so.

so, at least as a matter of a priori assumptions, we should expect human populations not to vary greatly in their genetic predisposition to intelligence. it may nonetheless, but we'd need pretty strong evidence. i think i read this argument on PZ Myers' blog a million years ago, so credit where that's due.

complicating the picture is that we just don't have good evidence for how IQ does vary across populations, even before we get into the question of "how much of this variation is genetic and how much of it is not." the cross-national data on which a lot of IQ arguments have been based is really bad. and that would be assuming IQ tests are in fact good at capturing a notion of IQ that is independent of cultural context, which historically they're pretty bad at

this screed by nassim nicholas taleb (not a diss; AFAICT the guy only writes in screeds) makes a number of arguments, but one argument I find persuasive is that IQ is really only predictive of achievement in the sense that it does usefully discriminate between people with obvious intellectual disabilities and those without--but you do not actually need an IQ test for that sort of thing, any more than you need to use a height chart to figure out who is missing both their legs. in that sense, sure, IQ is predictive of a lot of things. but once you remove this group, the much-vaunted correlations between IQ and stuff like wealth just straight-up vanishes

heritability studies are a useful tool, but a tool which must be wielded carefully; they were developed for studying traits which were relatively easy to isolate in very specific populations, like a crop under study at an agricultural research site, and are more precarious when applied to, e.g., human populations

my understanding based on jonathan kaplan articles like this one is that twin studies are not actually that good at distinguishing heritable factors from environmental ones--they have serious limitations compared to heritability studies where you actually can rigorously control for environmental effects, like you can with plants or livestock.

as this post also points out, heritability studies also only examine heritability within groups, and are not really suited to examining large-scale population differences, *especially* in the realm of intelligence where there is a huge raft of confounding factors, and a lack of a really robust measurement tool.

(if we are worried about intelligence at the population level, it seems to me there are interventions we know are going to be effective and do not rely on deeply dubious scientific speculation, e.g., around nutrition and healthcare and serious wealth inequality and ofc education; and if what people actually want is to raise the average intelligence of the population rather than justify discrimination against minorities, then they might focus on those much more empirically grounded interventions. even if population differences in IQ are real and significant and point to big differences in intelligence, we know those things are worth a fair few IQ points. but most people who are or historically have been the biggest advocates for eugenics are, in my estimation, mostly interested in justifying discrimination.)

i think the claims/application of eugenics extend well beyond just intelligence, ftr. eugenics as an ideology is complex and historically pretty interesting, and many eugenicists have made much broader claims than just "population-level differences in intelligence exist due to genetic factors, and we should try to influence them with policy," but that is a useful point for them to fall back onto when pressed on those other claims. but i don't think even that claim is at all well-supported.

[lexosaurus]

every time i read more of your danny phantom themed gym bro nonsense i regret knowing how to read

*snorts a line of preworkout*

You know, Fen-teeny-tiny, as far as hypertrophy's concerned, it's really all about the stretch you get when you do lat pulldowns. See, when most people do lats, they're using their arms too much. Not me. I get that full stretch on the lat when I do my pulldowns. It's how I get this dorito shape. Not that you'd know what a lat stretch feels like, Fen-twerp. I don't even think you know what a lat is. But it really is all about the stretch. When I work my triceps, for example, I always go overhead with my extensions because that's what gets you the best stretch on the long head. It's why my arms are so thick. Unlike yours, which are so thin I'm surprised this slight breeze isn't snapping them in half. If you ever wanted to do a push or pull day with me, Fent-RPE-0, I could show you the ropes. My gym program is insane. Max failure on every set. You'd be so sore the next day. Not that I care, or anything, I'm just saying—

[hunkpossession0]

**Riding a New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I had been a wandering spirit for what felt like an eternity. Ever since the accident that severed my connection to the living world, I had been drifting through the ether, invisible and forgotten. That is, until today.

I found myself in a dimly lit parking garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber filling the air. The growl of an engine echoed off the walls, and that’s when I saw him—a young biker, effortlessly cool in his black and red leather suit, leaning casually against his sleek Honda. He was everything I had once admired from afar, back when I was alive.

I watched him for a moment, a pang of envy and longing coursing through my spectral form. Then, almost instinctively, I felt myself drawn toward him. There was a sudden pull, a rush of energy, and before I knew it, I was inside his body.

The moment I slipped into his form, it was as if the world exploded in sensation. The first thing I noticed was the heat—the intoxicating warmth of his skin, the snug embrace of the leather suit wrapping around me. It was a second skin, tight and form-fitting, accentuating every contour and muscle. The leather was smooth and supple, a mix of security and allure that was almost overwhelming.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the resistance of the gloves, the reassuring grip they provided. I couldn't help but admire the strength in these hands, the power in this body. My heart raced, not just from the thrill of possession, but from the sheer intensity of feeling alive again. The suit clung to me, a perfect fit, and I relished the way it made me look—strong, confident, and undeniably hot.

Every step I took in the leather suit was a new discovery. The way it accentuated my broad shoulders, the way it hugged my biceps and triceps, making every muscle pop with definition. I could feel the smooth caress of the leather against my skin, the way it moved with me, an extension of my newfound strength.

After an exhilarating ride through the city, I decided to explore more of what this new life had to offer. I had noticed a gym bag in the trunk of his bike, and an idea struck me. I headed to the local gym, eager to test the limits of this new body.

Entering the gym, I felt a wave of excitement. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the rhythmic clanking of weights created a motivating soundtrack. I walked confidently to the locker room, changing into a tank top and workout pants that showed off my muscular physique. The reflection in the mirror was almost surreal—I was now this fit, handsome biker with a body that drew admiration and respect.

I started with some light stretches, feeling every muscle respond with a fluidity and power I had never experienced before. Moving to the weight section, I picked up a dumbbell, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I began a series of bicep curls, watching in awe as the muscles in my arms bulged and flexed.

The intensity of the workout was intoxicating. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my muscles, the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I moved from one machine to another, challenging myself with each set, reveling in the strength and endurance of this body.

Between sets, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. The way the tank top clung to my chest and shoulders, the way my arms looked pumped and powerful—it was a heady mix of vanity and pride. I couldn't help but snap a quick selfie, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated strength.

As the workout continued, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This body was capable of so much, and I was determined to explore its limits. The sweat poured down my skin, a testament to the hard work and effort I was putting in. And with each rep, each lift, I could feel myself growing more confident, more comfortable in this new skin.

But something was missing. My spectral journey had been long and lonely, and I longed to share this new life with someone who understood. That’s when I remembered my closest ghost friend, another lost soul who had wandered with me through the void. He deserved this chance too.

Later that evening, I returned to the parking garage, where I found another biker—a friend of the man whose body I had claimed. He was tall and lean, with a rugged handsomeness that made my decision easy. I called out to my ghost friend, guiding him to this new vessel.

With a rush of energy, my friend entered the biker’s body. The transformation was immediate. He blinked, adjusting to the new sensations, then looked at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. We were no longer lost souls. We were alive, and we had each other.

Together, we returned to the gym. It was a surreal experience, seeing my friend in his new form, watching him flex and admire his new physique. We took a moment to capture it—a selfie of the two of us, side by side, strong and proud. The bond we shared as ghosts had transformed into something deeper, something more intimate.

In the gym mirror, we stood close, our bodies radiating strength and confidence. My friend, now in his own muscular form, flexed his bicep while I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Our tank tops clung to us, revealing every sculpted muscle, every defined line. The pride in our eyes was unmistakable. Here we were, two souls reborn, finding a new life and love in the most unexpected way.

As the days passed, we explored our new lives together. We rode our bikes through the city, feeling the wind on our faces, the thrill of speed and freedom. We worked out side by side, pushing each other to new heights, celebrating every achievement.

Our connection grew stronger, evolving into a romantic bond that felt natural and right. We were a couple now, navigating this new world together. The love we had for each other, forged in the ethereal realm, blossomed in our new, physical forms.

And as we stood together, gazing at our reflections, we knew that this was just the beginning. We had found a new home, a new life, and most importantly, we had found each other. The road ahead was ours to conquer, and we were ready to face it together.

The leather suit, which had started it all, became a symbol of our transformation. Every time I slipped into it, I felt a rush of excitement and power. The way it hugged my body, the way it made me look and feel—it was exhilarating. And as we rode together, side by side, I knew that we were more than just bikers. We were partners, lovers, and together, we were unstoppable.

[caramilena]

Swing

Lumberjack!Logan x f!reader

Summary: Logan fucks you at his work

Rating: explicit

Warnings: 18+(Minors DNI), p in v, smut, dirty talk, fingering, reader has hair, Logan can pick up reader, established relationship, reader ogles Logan, nicknames (honey, baby, sweet girl), competency kink, no mention of Logan’s powers.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Logan had left for work in a rush that morning. Work was hectic with the new contracts he’d taken on. He was also handling a management position until the real manager- a frail, old man- had recovered from his hip replacement surgery. So, he had a lot on his plate at the moment.

That’s why, when he forgot to grab the lunch you had packed him, you decided to stop by his workplace to drop it off. He was already quite overworked so you made it paramount that he didn’t skip meals, if you could help it. It was a short drive… And maybe you’d get a chance to watch him swing an axe, shirtless. 

Once you got there, Logan wasn’t in the office. After asking around, you gathered that he went into to the woods for chores. Already tickled by that information, you didn’t waste your time to go find him immediately.

The wind caressed your cheeks and flew your hair about as you walked into the forest in search of him. He couldn’t be too far. Birds flew overhead. The tree leaves danced with the wind. You stepped over any branches or uneven ground as you cautiously traversed the wilderness. A few meters away, faint clacking sounds could be heard. At last. You picked up the pace. This was a pleasant afternoon walk practically. 

As you got closer, you could hear grunts and thuds, successively. You stilled when the source of your affections and concerns came to view. He donned his white tank top, overshirt probably discarded somewhere. He raised both arms that clasped a mighty axe over his head and brought them down with enough force to halve the wood. There was a pile of cut planks to his left. Every raise of his arms would cause the muscles in his back to ripple with life and tighten under the skin. Skin that glistened with a thin, shiny sheen of sweat. The air was relatively chill, but the physical exertion was what probably caused the faint perspiration.

Every downward motion as he hit the wood, would trigger the muscles in his tricep to tighten and contract, like your insides as you watched it all unfold, transfixed. His thick forearms were corded with years of manual labour. Of course, his biceps were your favourite pillow. Extensive physical labour was the foundation of his robust and sturdy physique. He was big and dependable. Competent, like no other man you had been with before.

He hadn’t noticed your presence yet since you stood facing his back, so you took your time ogling him as he worked. Aware of the growing wetness in your panties. Your eyes travelled down to his big, veiny hands as they gripped the handle of the axe. Mind immediately reminiscing to when they were pumping in and out of your messy hole. 

As you attempted to shift your weight from one foot to other and relieve the growing tension between your thighs, you accidentally stepped on a branch. His head snapped up and back. The deep frown between his brows relaxed slightly when he saw it was you.

“Hey,” he straightened and dropped the axe on the ground, “didn’t see you there. Were you waiting long?” 

He grunted as he walked over to a nearby tree and bent down to pick up the brown flannel shirt he had originally left the house in. Pulling it over his shoulders and beginning to button up, to your disappointment.

“Not too long,” you waved dismissively. “You forgot your lunch…” 

“Oh.” He paused. “My bad, honey. Sorry you had to come all this way,” he walked over to you, taking your hands in his and squeezing. He looked apologetic as he stared down at you.

“Are you kidding? It’s not everyday I get to watch you work in a tanktop,” I shrugged as if it’s a no-brainer that I’d miss an opportunity like that.

His mouth twitched and one corner turned up. “Yeah? You like what you see?” He stepped closer, crowding you.

You looked around before leaning in and whispering, “wouldn’t you like to know.”

His warm hands that still clasped yours, squeezed, thumb running circles on your knuckles. His eyes flitted behind you to also check for people nearby. He pulled your hands behind your thighs and held them there, walking you back until you felt your back press against a tree. His eyes darkened as he looked between your mouth and eyes. “Show me.”

It would’ve been nerve-wracking doing something like this in public, but seeing him in this virile, sweaty state, ignited a fire that couldn’t be snuffed with an entire waterfall. You took his hand and shoved it in your underwear. Right where it belonged right now. Lauding yourself internally for wearing baggy, sweatpants that made the action possible.

His nostrils flared and his lips pursed. He buried his face in your hair and groaned a low ‘fuck’. His fingers immediately began to slide through the wetness and circling the entrance. You gasped and gripped his forearm. “Did you get so soaked from just watching me, baby?” He grunted as his thumb circled around your clit.

A soft, needy sound came from the back of your throat. It was ridiculous when he put it like that. But it was true… He chuckled darkly, “dirty girl.” Before slipping two fingers in to the hilt.

You gasped and clenched around his digits immediately. He pumped furiously, curling his fingers. Swearing under his breath as the motion created wet, squelching sounds. “Oh honey, did you come here just to get fucked?” He mumbled in your ear. “I don’t fuck you enough at home?Now that you’re showin’ up to my work with this needy pussy,” the last two words were delivered with two quick slaps to your cunt.

You whimpered, you wanted to protest against those sentiments but he just shushed you with a thumb to your lips. The same thumb he was rubbing your clit with previously. You could taste your arousal on his thumb as he dragged it across your bottom lip. His brown eyes were practically swallowed up by his pupils as he gazed at you. “It’s okay,” he crooned. “I’ll fuck you wherever you want, baby.” He grinned indulgently and leaned in.

His lips pressed against yours and he hummed against the taste of your arousal on them. One of his hands travelled up your nape to tangle in your hair and angled your face up, while his other hand kept pumping into you. You moaned as his tongue licked into your mouth. Deep, rumbling growls from his chest rang in your ears. His fingers were repeatedly thrusting up into the spongy wall that made your knees weak. 

“M’close, Logan…” you mumbled against his mouth once he pulled back to look at you. He responded with fast swipes of his finger on your clit. Your back arched and a moan left your parted lips. But just before you could reach the bliss of coming around his fingers, he pulled his digits away. You frowned, “what-“

In a swift motion and a grunt, he pulled you up by the backs of your thighs to hitch around his waist. Your hands immediately went to circle around his neck for balance. “How about you help me with this little problem first, sweet girl..” he said huskily and pressed his clothed erection against the damp spot on your sweatpants.

You suppressed a whine as you pulled your sweatpants down your hips and he helped jostle them down your ankles. He quickly unbuttoned his jeans and pulled out his member. Sliding it over your covered core and at the edges of your underwear with a low groan. Your toes curled as he teased you and you cried out his name in warning. His chest rumbled with a chuckle and he pulled your panties to the side. You felt his cock twitch at your entrance. “Look at her, she’s drooling for my cock… Should I give it to her?”

“Please.” You shifted your hips forward impatiently. He tutted disapprovingly at that. 

But all the same he gathered up your slick with his tip, and pushed in. In one go, he seated himself all the way to the base. You both moaned at the sensation. You were filled to the brim. Your head dropped forward to rest on his shoulder. He was sliding impossibly deep.

He picked up the pace and began to put his weight behind each thrust. You moaned in hiccuped sounds as he bounced you on his cock. There were voices all of a sudden. Distant but unmistakable. They didn’t get closer though. It just highlighted the fact that you guys were outside and anyone could happen upon you in this compromising position.

Your eyes widened in worry but you clenched around him. At that, his already thinning restraint, extinguished to nothing. His jaw clenched and the vein in his neck looked ready to pop. He snapped his hips faster. Growling in your ear as each thrust punched the air out of your lungs. “You want others to watch you take my cock like a good girl?” His hand quickly found its way to your clit again and began rubbing quick, tight circles on it.  You moaned loudly and he slapped a hand over your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back as his hard thrusts drove you up and down the side of the tree. Your hoodie was sure to be stained and possibly torn by the friction.

His hips stuttered and you knew he was close. He buried his face in the side of your neck as he thrusted a few more times. Growling when he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

Your hands squeezed his nape and he pulled his face back to kiss you deeply. Tongue in tune with his thrusts. Your entire body tensed as you came. Thighs shaking with the abrupt and powerful force of your orgasm. He ripped his mouth away to moan at the feeling of you squeezing him when he was already close. 

His teeth sank into your neck as he thrusted unsteadily a few more times before coming inside with a drawn-out grunt. He didn’t pull out until every drop was deposited in you. He panted once he was done and cupped your cheek. “You okay?” His warm, green eyes searched your face for discomfort.

You smiled and nodded, “Just peachy.” He snorted in amusement and helped you down. 

He pulled your sweatpants up and patted your mound over them, appreciatively, “don’t waste a drop. I will be checking.” 

You left that place 10 minutes later, still leaking his cum and thoroughly satisfied. 

Notes: first time writing smut, scared to post. Needed more Logan fics so I ended up writing one.. let me know if I missed any warnings!

[tamamita]

Can you recommend any good chest and triceps exercises?

I usually separate both muscles into their own respective days, because both the triceps and pectorals act as synergetic muscles in most exercises so I'll separate them into two separate days, so that you can work them as isolated exercises.

Day 1: Triceps

Pulldowns

Overhead extension (cable)

Lying Triceps extension

Day 2: Chest

Bench Press

Cable Chest Fly

Mating Press

Inclined Dumbell Press

This is what my schedule looks like! I hope this helps!

[afitterbrittany]

Arm Day Routine that took my arms from this to this while losing ~90lbs

This routine was something I adopted in the last two years as I’ve been focusing on toning my arms and tightening loose skin as I went from 258 to 170. I followed this routine 2x per week, in combination with a calorie deficit, aiming for protein and fiber, plus leg days and lots of walks.

I begin every workout with a walk on the treadmill to warm up - 10 min at 3.6mph/5.0 incline

Then I do these two exercises for my first circuit: 2x 15 reps and then a 3rd set to failure
1. Bicep curls with the 40lb barbell or 2x 15 dumbells alternating arms
2. Tricep extensions on the functional trainer machine with the tricep pressdown bar set to 30lbs resistance 

Then I move on to our next circuit of exercises, also 2x15 and a 3rd until failure
3. Lateral raises with 10lb dumbbell 
4. Chest press machine set to 40lb resistance

Then our final circuit at (yep you guessed it) 2x15 and a 3rd until failure
5. Tricep kickbacks with a 10 or 15lb dumbbell depending on how I feel that day
6. Overhead tricep extensions with a 25lb dumbbell (held with both hands)

Then if we have time left until 7am, I'll hop back on the treadmill to cool down my workout, usually at about a 3.0mph pace.

I try to rest between sets but sometimes I’m impatient. Make sure movements are slow and controlled and focus on even breathing. This isn’t anything crazy heavy but focused more on consistency and toning.

[dear-ao3]

this may be unsolicited but you got any tips for an introverted weenie who doesn't know what to do at the gym but also really needs to do SOMETHING? cool if not have a nice day

i still work off the formula that we used at my high school which was:

warm up (generally stretching, perhaps cardio)

core lift (deadlift, squat, bench, or incline)

other shit that works similar stuff as the core lift (for deadlift: split squats, hang clean, rdl, leg press) (for squat: leg extensions and curls, box jumps, step ups, stiff leg deadlift) (for bench: lat pulldown, dumb bell press, arm curls, tricep press) (for incline: hammer chest, seated row, upright row) (might have gotten some of those wrong)

and then you kinda just figure out what works for you. start with light weights, you should be able to do reps between 5-10 in a working range, and if you can do that comfortably increase it a little. for the core lifts we always did 5 reps, working up towards the max weight you could do, incrementally adding weights over the course of 5 sets. and on your last set if you could do 5 reps of it then you moved your max weight up 5lbs for the next time.

and then alternate upper body and lower body days

might not be super helpful but thats my baseline formula

also none of u tell me that this is blatantly incorrect i do not want to hear it if u think it is. working out is in an individualized experience and you have to find out what works for you

[eilishsmuse]

i hate that i can’t love you

— billie eilish x fem!reader

context. you realize the casual hookups that you’ve been having with billie are much more than meets the eye. how will you tell her when her pleasure is all she’s ever focused on and not your feelings?

cw. swearing, partial explicit content, toxic ‘relationship’, billie does not care for readers feelings, arguing, verbal fighting, thrown away feelings

soundtrack. growing pains – ethel cain

extension. comfortable silence is so overrated

"Fuck—I've been waiting for you all day," Billie mumbles against your lips, hands gripping at your waist and pulling you into her room.

You pulled away from the kiss momentarily, letting your eyes scan the room.

The room where everything started. Where you first signed the NDA to never speak about this to a single soul. Also where you agreed to never catch feelings.

"C’mon, I have a meeting in an hour." She murmurs as she disregarded the way your eyes frantically scattered across the room, eyes hooded as she clambers over you, pushing you onto the bed. Her lips are quirked into a smirk, like she knows she has you wrapped around her finger.

Your heart beats rapidly at Billie’s harsh touch, your body practically falling apart in her hands. Your mind racing with thoughts of lust, greed, fear, and despair. Knowing this was just another hookup like any other one to her, heart swelling with dismay and unsureness.

Billie swings a leg over your hips as she straddles your waist. Her hands slip beneath your top, cold metal rings splayed over your skin as she moves up.

Her lips move from your own to your jawline. Tongue, lips, teeth, the sensation makes you shudder. She’s leaving marks. On purpose.

"You love this, don’t you?" Her voice is a breathy whisper, her hips shifting against you as she nips on your ear. Sharp and stinging.

“Yes,” You whisper immediately, scared, almost as if she was going to hurt you.

Liar. Your mind scolded. Receiving a pang in your heart for lying. Another pang shoots through your body. Your hands start to shake ever so slightly.

A pleased rumble vibrates in the back of Billie’s throat at your immediate response. Her hands splay further up your ribs, fingertips digging into your skin.

"And all the others?" Billie murmurs, trailing her lips down your now-marked neck, tongue swiping over the indents her teeth had left behind on your pulse. She's going for the spot that always makes your breath catch in your throat. "You like them too."

“Billie,” You say barely above a whisper, your shaky hands griping at her triceps. Your throat started to tighten up at all the emotions rushing throughout your body. Your heart was practically beating out your chest, your neck moistened with sweat.

Eyes hazy. Head pulsing.

Billie lifts her head so that her eyes meet your own, blue locking with y/e/c. She pauses her ministrations, fingers pausing on the curve of your stomach.

"What's wrong?" She asks, a flicker of irritation flashing in her eyes.

Billie knows this feeling. The sharp inhale of breath, the trembling hands, the sweat. The way your body tightens under her own.

"Don't tell me you’re gonna get all twitchy on me again?" The frown on her face is disapproving. Frustration clear.

Her verbal frustration only sent signals to your brain. She wasn’t going to to put up with your feelings. The ones you promised not to catch no matter what. Your throat tightened even more. Your eyes started to burn. And your skin started to flush.

As Billie leaned back to look at you, you immediately felt judged and embarrassed. Her blue eyes narrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. Mad at the fact you weren’t going to give her what she wanted.

It's like being punched in the gut, seeing your expression—the redness of your face, the shine in your eyes, the way you flinch at her tone. Billie hates feeling this way.

She also hates the way you avoid her eyes, staring at the ceiling instead.

"Fuck." She curses quietly, shifting her weight so that her weight is off you. Now she's just straddling your thighs.

"We—" Billie lets out a sound of frustration, clenching her fist in the sheets. "We've talked about this—"

“I’m sorry,” You confess as you refused to look at Billie, your hands going to your face to wipe the small tears that were slowly cascading down your cheeks. The feeling of her still on your body was sending mixed emotions to your head.

You loved the way she took care of you in this room. You just wished she took care of you.

"Stop it."

Billie takes hold of your wrists gently, tugging your hands away from your face before pinning your wrists to the mattress. She leans over you, blue eyes roaming over your face. Searching.

There's an uneasy expression on her own. One you see only on rare occasions.

"You're acting like a child again." She frowns, voice taking on an annoyed edge.

The words send a newly created emotion throughout your body. Your hands immediately force hers off yours and you sit up, her body’s still on you.

“Fuck you.”

Your face contorts into a betrayed and confused look. Your face still flushed. Tears still flowing, slowly — but surely down your face. Your voice now wavered and cracked.

"Oh, don’t get defensive with me—"

Billie’s tone, once harsh, is now defensive as well. A part of her is irritated by your outburst, the other part is surprised by it. A mixture of emotions flick over her face. Confusion. Irritation. Guilt? It's all there, flashing over her expression before settling back into the same disapproving look.

"You know I—"

She cuts herself off, jaw clenching. Her eyes flicker between yours.

Billie’s frustrated, and you can tell she’s trying her best to keep it together. The vein at the side of her neck is pulsing, the muscle flexing as she swallows hard.

“What do you want from me? To treat you like a damn baby?”

Billie’s fingers flex on your wrists, tightening. Her thighs press against the sides of your hips.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” You spat out between your teeth, your body finally having the courage to get her off you and stand up off the bed. Your top still wrinkled from the way Billie gripped and pulled at it. Neck still wet with her kisses. Hair still tousled and messy.

Billie sat still as you pulled yourself out from under her, watching you with a mixture of agitation and bewilderment. She followed you off the bed, her eyes dark.

“What the fuck do you mean?” Billie snapped back, her hands clenching and unclenching around air. She wanted to grab you, pull you back until you were beneath her again.

Billie’s anger flared up as she took a step forward, eyes narrowing. “You’re the one being all emotional and weird about this!”

Your eyebrows furrowed in a fit of disgust, “So ask why!”

Your voice started to crack and your throat closed even tighter, making it hurt to even speak. “Ask why I feel like this! Don’t just fucking do that thing you always do!”

“What thing?! I’m just trying to make you feel good!”

Billie’s voice raised, the irritation in her tone evident. She rolled her eyes, running a hand through her hair in a fit of frustration.

“We both agreed to keep this uncomplicated. Casual.” She clenched her jaw, taking a short, shaky breath. “This shouldn’t be turning into a damn therapy session.”

“See! That’s exactly fucking it! You’re too caught up to feed your fucking ego and just disregard others people’s feelings!”

Your voice raised and cracked as you argued with her. Your chest rose up and down rapidly with your heavy breathing and beating heart. Raising your hands in the air to prove your point. Eyes still red with tears.

“I’m just meeting your expectations!”

Billie retorted, taking a step closer with a growl of frustration as her own eyes hardened. Her hands clenched and unclenched, fingers itching to reach out and grab you. She bit the inside of her cheek instead, teeth grinding on skin.

You’re driving her crazy with this.

“We’re just here to blow off some steam—I don’t know why you’re getting so damn emotional!”

“Because I like you!”

You shouted, silence immediately followed after. Your breathing came to a stop and it began to slow, almost as if a brick was being pulled off your chest. Your face flushed again and you gave Billie a sad, apologetic look. Your hands tucking hair behind your ear hurriedly.

“I fucked up our agreement Bils,” you whispered gently, “I’m only fucking human.”

Like.

The word rings in Billie’s ears as she freezes. All the anger and frustration bleeds out of her like a deflating balloon. The way you’re looking at her now, so open and soft…God, she wants to throw you on the bed and never let you leave. But then she’d be betraying you.

You’re the first person who made her feel wanted. Not just desired.

She swallows the lump in her throat, her eyes flickering around the room before landing back on you.

“No,” Billie’s shaking her head without thinking, eyes darting over your face.

The crush, the emotions: it’s all been part of the agreement. This is not supposed to be serious. No feelings. Casual sex.

Yet her heart hurts at your words and it’s only making her angrier.

“You don’t like me,” Billie’s voice comes out tight, her throat squeezing the words out as she clenches her jaw. “You’re just in shock and emotional.”

A scoff skips past your lips and you suck your teeth as you shook your head at Billie, eyes hooded and puffy.

“This is exactly what I mean.”

You noticed your voice raise again, taking a small breath to calm your nerves. Closing your eyes for a couple seconds and opening them back up to see Billie’s blue ones.

“You don’t let people care for you the way you need to be cared for. You let all your past relationships with all the shitty people you’ve been with get in the way of your feelings. I get it! You were hurting! But other people’s feelings need to be accounted for too. Because now you’re just ending up like the rest of them.”

As your final words leave your lips, you immediately feel your body sharply intake a breath automatically.

Shit.

Billie felt like she’d been slapped in the face.

That’s worse than being slapped physically, actually. Your words were like knives, carving out all the reasons she doesn’t allow people to get close to her.

The fact that you’re the one saying it stabs her directly in the heart.

She can’t hold your gaze anymore. Billie swallows hard and looks away, chest constricting. You’ve struck a very sensitive spot.

“I…”

Billie’s voice starts to shake as she feels the prick of tears behind her eyes. Her vision starts to blur, and she shakes her head rapidly, trying to will them away.

Why do you do this to her? Make her feel so exposed?

“I don’t—I can’t…”

Billie doesn’t know how to respond. She wants to deny your words, scream them at you. Anything to get herself out of the open, vulnerable position you’ve trapped her in.

As Billie struggled upon finding her words you realized you had went too far. You’d used the secrets she’d tell me after the best moments in this very bedroom against her. Your sad eyes stayed on your face and you shook your head at your sentence.

“I’m sorry Billie, I’m so sorry.”

The tone in your voice was now softened and gentle. You tucked a hair behind your ear and looked to Cate for any facial expressions.

Billie’s mind is at war with itself.

You’re sorry, but she doesn’t accept your words as an apology. Yes, you’ve used the things she’s told you during your vulnerable moments against her. All for expressing the emotions she’s kept bottled up for years...

Her eyes burn with unshed tears. She feels her lower lip start to tremble as she clenches her jaw tighter.

Billie hated being so damn weak.

“Why do you do this to me?”

Billie finally speaks, her voice rough and breaking. Her blue eyes meet yours, and it feels hard to swallow around the lump in her throat.

“I told you—the rules. Casual.”

She repeats the word, as if trying to convince herself of it.

You close your eyes for a second and take a deep breath in, nodding at her statement, knowing she was right. It was foolish for you to fall for her considering her fame and popularity. Of course she wasn’t gonna pay any mind to you.

“You’re right. And you have a right to be mad. I’m sorry.”

Billie is mad.

She’s mad at you, but she's even madder at herself. Why can't she just be normal? Be the way everyone expects her to be?

Billie swallows, taking a step closer to you. Her expression softens, eyes dropping to the floor as she fidgets with her hands.

“You...you can't fall in love with me.” Billie’s voice is almost a whisper.

“I know. I know.”

Quiet and regretful are the way the words leave your mouth. You let out one final deep breath and meet her blue teary-eyes. The same eyes that looked into yours in such passionate and vulnerable moments. The same moments that made you think she’d actually have some sort of love for you.

God, you look so sad and regretful, and it makes Billie’s heart ache. She wants to wrap her arms around you and hold you tightly, tell you everything’s okay...but it’s not okay.

She can’t give you anything more than what you currently have.

Billie takes another step closer to you, standing directly in front of you. She opens her mouth, then closes it. She opens it again.

“We can’t do this anymore.”

The words that left Billie’s mouth were more than enough to send you out the door with a simple ‘Okay’.

Billie didn’t try to stop you.

Billie didn’t call after you.

Billie showed no sign that she loved you back. And now you felt like a fool.

‧₊˚✩彡

fer speaks!!!

lmk if i should do a part two to this… i really want to

[zahmaddog]

The Bad Batch Workout Split

I'm a bit of an intense gym-goer. Anime, live-action characters, and other animations have really inspired me to go above and beyond what I thought I could do. Clone Force 99 inspires me so much! They're all so fit, have different advantages, skills, and physical strengths. For fun, I created a workout split based on each of the modified clones. I hope you enjoy it! There’s a bit of a fanfic element to it as each Bad Batcher describes their favorite workout routine:)

(Part 2)The Bad Batch Workout - The Frat Boy Days Edition

Wrecker - Legs

Wrecker never skips leg day. Whether he's on a mission or with Gonky in the back of the ship, he's always training! Wrecker encourages you to train safely! He says to feel free to train until failure on machines, but to pick a weight you'll be safe with on the free weight work.

Leg Extension - 2 sets of 15

Hamstring Curl - 2 sets of 15

Deadlifts - 3 sets of 6-8

Leg Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Smith Machine Split Squats - 2 sets of 6-8

Gonk Carry (Sandbag Carry) - 3 reps; set a distance you’re comfortable with.

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

Crosshair - Push & Shoulders

Crosshair is built to carry his gear and Firepuncher 773 up mountains, towers, and more. His shoulders are strong to sustain his sniper work and throw enemies in close hand-to-hand combat. He suggests getting someone like Echo to spot you so you can work harder, but if you're going it alone, be smart and hang out with the Smith machine.

Incline Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Bench Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Shoulder Press - 3 sets of 10-12

Delt Raises - 3 sets of 10-12

Farmers Carry - 3 reps; set a distance you’re comfortable with

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

Hunter - Back & Abs

Hunter knows he has an amazing back to waist ratio and maintains a steady back routine to maintain it. To build out your back, he suggests warming up your abdominal muscles first, then heading straight into heavy rowing work.

Cable Crunch - 3 sets till failure

T-Bar Row - 3 sets of 6-8

Assisted Pull Ups - 3 sets of 10-12

Cable Lat Pulldown (Palms in) - 3 sets of 10-12

Cable Row (Narrow) - 3 sets of 10-12

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

Tech - Full Body + Cardio

Tech may be all brains, but you have to give credit where it's due: the guy is built. He'll climb up vertical surfaces with Echo on his back, overpower enemies with a broken femur, and perform fantastic movements to protect others. Tech suggests performing heavy compound movements to work multiple muscle groups at once and mastering your own body weight. At the end, listen to a podcast, music, or show; or if you can maintain focus and a higher heart rate, read a book.

Assisted Chin Ups - 3 sets of 10-12

Hexbar Deadlifts - 3 sets of 10-12

Barbell Squats - 3 sets of 10-12

Assisted Pull Ups - 2 sets of until failure

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (See Below)

Entertained cardio - 45 minutes

Omega - Arms & Accessories 

She may be the little sister, but Omega is a straight up badass and her brothers know it. She's getting used to performing compound movements with her brothers, but enjoys working on accessory movements as it's time for her to focus on herself in the gym and get away from all the "bro" noise.

Calf Raises - 3 sets of 10-12

Preacher Bicep Curl - 3 sets of 10-12

Tricep Pushdown - 3 sets of 10-12

Hammer Curl - 3 sets of 10-12

Front Raises - 3 sets of 10-12

Shrugs - 3 sets of 10-12

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher (see below)

The Daily Bad Batch Burner Finisher

Clone Force 99 has exceptional grip strength and endurance. Here's the burning finisher for the end of each workout. If you don't have access to battle ropes, any free weight arm movement can replace it.

Each exercise till failure x3

Battle Rope 

Pushups

Static Hang

Clone Force 99 says good luck on your training. You'll need it.

[mermaidgirl30]

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 1: Meeting the Coach✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me, and for @mountainsandmayhem for helping hype me up! I’m really excited about this one ✨

Summary: Welcoming a new coach is no easy task, especially when Joel Miller steps through those doors with his stupid tousled curls and dark brown eyes.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: Eventual smut, enemies to lovers type energy, bitter OFC, a hint of swooning, age gap (Madison is 24, Joel is 39), slow burn, pre!outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sunlight bursts through the glass windows of the Austin Gymnastics Club as chalk and sweat permeate through the air of the heated gym. The long balance beams seem to shine in the distance, and the white walls with gold medals and trophies in glass cases fill the extensive space. My calloused fingers are numb from the lengthy bar routine I just finished, and my lower back burns from the shaky dismount. I take a moment to breathe deep and fill my lungs with icy water, letting the chill cool the ache of fiery lungs.

   Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on deep breaths. Don’t think about the heartbreaking loss that’s about to happen.

   When I open my glossy eyes, I take a minute to compose myself. Losing Coach Carr is near devastating when regionals are in a little less than two months. How the fuck am I supposed to be ready when we’re getting a brand new coach who doesn’t know a thing about our routines or training schedule? 

   Ripping the water bottle from my tight grip, I find my way back onto the blue spring floor and decide to stretch my sore triceps. Wincing in pain, I groan, extending my arms overhead, feeling as if my muscles will split in half at any moment, but I’m used to it. It’s just part of a gymnast’s daily routine. No pain, no gain. 

   Senior year. Only a little over three months until I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology. Granted, I opted for online classes to focus on what’s really important. Gymnastics. It’s what I breathe, all I can think about day after day, and I won’t stop until I qualify for the Olympics. And Coach Carr should’ve been the one to help me get there, but those dreams were crushed like sand beneath the soles of my feet. Go figure. Nothing ever went my way. Especially after I lost my dad…

   Having to take a whole year off training and college was rough enough. And close to being twenty-five-years-old? Well, some of the girls still tortured me about it, whispering how I was too old, how I’d never make it. But they were wrong, and I’d prove it. 

   If they were gentle sheep, then I was a starving wolf. Out for blood. 

   Another deep sigh leaves my lips, and my shiny pink leotard feels extremely tight, almost like it’s squeezing the breath right out of my lungs. In the next moment, someone is hip checking me, and I almost topple over onto the mat from the unwelcome force. I glare in the direction of where the uncalled action came from, but I immediately drop my frown when I see it’s just my best friend, Cassie. 

   “Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning? You’re awfully cranky,” she laughs as she presses down some dark flyaways from her tight bun and smoothes out her violet leotard with the back of her palms.

   “Sorry,” I grumble, letting my arms fall down to my sides in defeat. “I’m just on edge today with Coach Carr leaving.”

   Cassie blinks twice and looks up with sympathetic emerald eyes. “I know. I’m upset too, but what can we do? She’s already leaving, we can’t stop her now.”

   “Yeah, but why didn’t she at least wait until after regionals? You know how important that competition is. If we want to go to the national championships, then we have to bring our A-game,” I huff, stomping my heel into the squishy floor just to show how frustrated I am.

   “Ask her husband, he’s the one that got the new job in Denver. Maybe you can talk him into letting his wife stay just for you,” she laughs, pushing against my shoulder playfully to try to get me to lighten up, but it doesn’t work. “And it’s you, babe. You want to go to nationals, and you want to win that championship title. I’m just here to ride it out with you. You’ve got the heart of a lion in this gym. No way you aren’t getting that gold medal,” she says encouragingly. 

   I give her a fake smile and hip check her right back. “Says the girl who medaled at our last competition. You’re going with me, and that’s final,” I smile.

   “We’ll see about that,” she says with bright green eyes.

   The room lightens up a little bit as Cassie pulls some of the anger from my tense body, but it all comes crashing back down like shattering like glass the moment I see Coach Carr’s bubbly smile and long blonde hair swaying as she greets a man I don’t recognize by the glass door.

   I tip my head to the side and squint, hoping to get a better view of the mystery man with the tight-fitting white t-shirt and dark jeans that hug strong legs. “Who’s that?” I ask, hoping Cassie will have a clue as to who that might be.

   “I think that’s our new coach. Joel Miller,” she says, peeling her eyes over his broad body.

   “Who is he?” My voice comes out quieter, like I almost don’t want to know. Coach Carr never said anything about a male coach, and she definitely didn’t mention that he’d be older and so… handsome. 

   “Not too sure, but I’ve been hearing the other coaches talk lately. Heard he took his prior team all the way to nationals,” she voices, making my ears perk up at that.

   My eyes grow a little wider, and my back stiffens up at the mentions of nationals. “Nationals, huh? Then why isn’t he still there with that team?” Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, I try to study the tall man, as if I can see inside his mind.

   “Not sure,” she shrugs. “Guess he heard we were the best, and maybe it’s a better paid position? I don’t know, but Jesus. Do you see the biceps on that man? He’s hot. Maybe he can help me stretch… if you know what I mean,” she winks, curling a loose strand behind her ear as her eyes go starry.

   Oh, for the love of God. 

   “Cas, stop. You’re being gross.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and hit her lightly in the side of the shoulder. 

   “What? Like you don’t find him attractive? He’s ridiculously good looking. Just look at him,” she sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling from the sunlight peeking through the windows.

   But I am looking at him. And whether I like it or not, he’s walking straight up to the spring floor with Coach Carr right at his heels, and he’s not too far from where I’m standing. 

   When he’s only a mere few feet from me, I notice how his biceps hug the soft fabric of his t-shirt and large veins spiral down his thick forearms, spidering along the backs of his rough hands, ending in strong fingers. I gulp when I see how devastating his dark brown eyes are. They’re almost like pure marble, smooth enough to sink into. And his hair. Thick, sandy brown with speckles of gray threading through his lush locks and his clipped beard. Cassie was right; he’s breathtaking.

   “Fuck yeah, bestie. He’s taking us all the way to nationals,” she whispers as a fit of giggles leave her pink lips. 

   I roll my eyes and seal my mouth shut, but I can’t help but keep sneaking secret glances at the man with pretty eyes. Cassie doesn’t need her big ego boosted to know she’s right. He is good looking, really good looking. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept him here. Coach Carr is abandoning me right when I need her most. She was supposed to be there for regionals which would set me up for nationals. No way will I just accept a stranger, like he knows anything about my routines or moves. No. I’ll just give him the cold shoulder because I’m bitter about this whole stupid arrangement.

   “Girls, gather around! I’d like for you to meet someone.” She gestures to the mystery man and beams her white smile to the entire room. The rest of the gymnasts take their place on the spring floor and glance with anticipation at the newcomer. “This has been a super hard decision for me to leave you all, but I did my best to make sure you’ll be in good hands. So, girls, I’d like you to meet your new coach, Joel Miller.”

   All the girls’ eyes blow wide, and whispers flit around the room, echoing giggles and gossip that makes me silently groan. Some of them bat their long lashes, some fix their high ponytails and twirl the hair they can reach. Others just stare and gawk, letting their eyes roam the expanse of his broad body, and my stomach drops when I realize all my teammates are going to be swooning over our new coach. 

   I let my eyes rake over the spongy floor, dragging my heel over a piece of fuzz like it’ll get me out of this awkward situation. I don’t want a new coach, especially one that all the girls won’t stop talking about.

   “Now, you might’ve not heard of him before, but he’s coached a few varsity teams, and he even took the Oklahoma Sooners all the way to nationals, which I know is a dream for most of you,” she says proudly, her chin held high as some of the girls gasp and drop their jaws to the floor. 

   Great. Now I’ll have to hear their stupid lovesick mouths drag on about how handsome and talented he is. Give me a fucking break. 

   “Nationals? I want to go to nationals!” One of the girls shouts as she jumps up and down frantically, only stopping when Coach Carr tells her to settle down.

   “As do most of you, and I’m sure Coach Miller here will do just that,” she smiles wide, letting her long blonde hair fall over her light blue polo shirt. Joel sheepishly smiles and follows Coach Carr’s lead. “Okay, well let me go around the room and introduce you to all the girls. There’s quite a bit,” she laughs, glancing at me and the other eleven gymnasts.

   As she makes her way around the room slowly, I can’t help but tune the room out, making a small bubble in my mind where only my thoughts start to tick like the hanging clock above the front glass doors. 

   You can do this, just breathe. Don’t freak out, you’re only losing your most favorite coach in the entire world. I bite my lower lip and feel the sharp pain sink into my skin. 

   Breathe. 

   Just when I start to fade off into the soft blue tones in my mind, I hear my name being called loud and clear across the open room. I snap my eyes up frantically when Coach Carr says my name again. “And this is our shining star right here, Madison Summers. She’s the best of the best,” she smiles proudly, like I’ve just won her the gold medal.

   Joel shifts his weight to the left and folds his flexed arms over his broad chest, and I swear he’s about to rip right through that thin t-shirt. “Your shining star, s’that right?” he asks with a thick Southern drawl that floats through my eardrums like a sweet melody. 

   Fuck. Even his voice is charming. All deep and gravelly and annoyingly enthralling. It’s about to give me a damn headache at this rate.

   “Oh, yes,” she replies brazenly. “This girl right here has been bringing us home with first place titles since she started here. She’s the real deal, Miller. I think she might even take you all the way to nationals. Keep her on her toes.” She claps him on the back firmly, and a slow smile expands across his plush mouth, framing his dark mustache. His brown eyes flick over my body slowly like he’s assessing every single inch of me to make sure it’s true, and he parts his mouth like he wants to say something.

   Letting my hazel eyes fall to the ground, I adjust my position and keep my arms locked tight around my chest. Maybe I can hide from the red blush that’s building in my cheeks because now all the girls are staring at me with envy, and I despise being the center of attention. 

   When the sting of embarrassment starts to fade away, I hear him clear his throat. “Impressive. Guess we’ll jus’ have to see ‘bout nationals then. See jus’ what you bring to the floor, Shining Star,” he murmurs with a light voice that spouts off that deep, gravelly tone that makes my insides clench.

   Shining Star. The nickname makes the little light blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up and has my crimson cheeks flushed. He needs to stop.

   I slowly lift my chin, and then my eyes meet his straight on. Butterflies flit through the pit of my stomach for just a second when his amber colored irises stay locked on mine. He gives me a once over, one eyebrow lifted as if I’ve piqued his interest, and that’s the last thing I want to be right now because these girls will give me hell about it.

   Averting my eyes back to the floor to escape that growing tension in the air, I listen to Coach Carr go on about how she’s letting Joel take the reins. I can still feel his dark eyes honing in on me, and the room suddenly feels like the Texas summer heat, stifling and insufferable. I don’t care what it takes, but I will not think of Coach Miller as anything other than my coach. He may be handsome as hell, but there’s no way I’m going to simp like a lovesick puppy over him like every other girl in this gym. 

   Katelyn’s piercing blue eyes find mine in an instant when I finally find the strength to look up. Her painted red lips are pursed, and her high cheekbones look like they could cut straight through glass with the way she’s glaring. Her too-tight, sparkly white leotard shows off her curvy figure, and I know she’s already jealous of the attention I’m getting. 

   Great. Just great. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. She already hates my guts; why did Coach Carr have to make it worse? 

   I concentrate back on the fabric of the ocean blue floor and pray it’ll swallow me whole. Cassie places a comforting palm on my shoulder and nudges me to see if I’m alright. I give her a tight-lipped smile and again pretend. So much for not feeling overwhelmed and anxious today. 

   Joel’s voice booms through the room, and my hesitant eyes slowly shift back up to him as he paces the floor and looks out to the sea of eager gymnasts. “Alright, ladies. Coach Carr here has given me a rundown of some of your routines, but I’d like to jus’ walk around the room today and get a feel for them and how your practices usually go. She was kind enough to let me scope the team out a few weeks ago. And I will say, I was very impressed. Some more than others.” His eyes shift to find mine, and I suddenly feel like a deer in the headlights. Blindsighted and paralyzed. He’ll surely collide right into me at the worst possible time when I don’t even see him coming.

   He’s been at practice before? He’s watched me specifically? Oh, shit. 

   Some of the other girls giggle, but I stand frozen like a mouse caught in a trap. How can Coach Carr leave me alone with him? He’ll have me losing my balance over a simple split jump on the balance beam. But I won’t let that happen. Not a chance because I’m going to ice him out, just like I planned to do before I even knew he’d be the new coach. 

   “Okay, girls. I do have to get going, I'm afraid, but please be respectful to Coach Miller. He is a very good coach, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviors.” She gives all the girls a knowing look that says don’t test her, and then she makes her way over to me as some of the girls disperse around the gym.

   “Ahh, my favorite athlete,” she smiles as she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I breathe in her lemon perfume and memorize what it feels like to be embraced by her because I won’t have any more warm hugs after this. I’ll only have rough hands that maybe high five me for landing a double tuck on the mat, if that. 

   I squeeze her right back and hold on for dear life. “Please, don’t go. I need you,” I whine, afraid tears might run down my cheeks when I watch her walk out that door one last time.

   “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I hate leaving you, but you know I’ll be there for Regionals.” She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes gently. I feel the sting of fresh tears in the back of my eyes, and they start to gloss over. 

   “Hey, now,” she reassures me. “You’re going to be just fine without me. You have a great coach to take over my spot now.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t quite meet her bright blue eyes.

   “But it’s not you. You promised to take me all the way to Nationals,” I pout, letting my bottom lip jut out as a cold tear slips free.

   “Hey, no tears now. Everything will be okay. And I know I promised, but marriage and Eric’s new job just got in the way. I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am, but I still believe in you. You’ve got this, and Joel will take you to Nationals. I know he will.” 

   My eyes flick to him subtly, and I huff out a long sigh as my eyes start to narrow into thin slits. Joel wouldn’t take me to nationals. It was never his job to, and I sure as hell don’t want to put my faith in a new coach I know almost nothing about. I don’t care how good looking he is; he’s not my coach. 

   Coach Carr quickly picks up on my building anger and irritation to the whole situation, so she steers me back to look her dead in the eyes. “Hey, be nice. I don’t want you giving him trouble just because you’re upset,” she warns with a stern look written over her serious face. 

   “Who said I was going to give him trouble?” I scoff, kicking my heel into the blue padding of the floor like that will do me any good.

   “Madison Summers!” She says my full name sharply like a mother would when their child is getting scolded, and her grip tightens on my hands. “Now, I know you very well. And I know when you’re upset. You can be upset with me, but please don’t take it out on him. He’s only here to help you reach your dreams, and I have no doubt that he’ll do just that. So give him a chance, for my sake. I wouldn’t leave you to someone I didn’t trust.”

   I bite my lower lip and nod, turning my gaze back to Joel as he focuses on Giselle’s uneven bar routine, watching the way her sparkly red leotard shimmers in the glistening sunlight that melts through the glass windows. Sighing heavily, I agree to obey her wishes, “Okay, I guess I can try to play nice.”

   She gives me a quick hug and squeezes tightly. “That’s my girl.” I let the warm comfort envelop me fully, remembering the scent of spearmint gum and lemon perfume. A smell I’ll soon only remember in my fading memory. 

   With one more hug, she sends her best wishes to me and says goodbye to the other girls, and then she’s just gone. A vacant ghost that’s disappeared into her new life. 

   A life that I won’t be in.

   I watch the glass window like she’ll come back, like she was just kidding about leaving the entire time, but every second the clock ticks tells me she’s gone. And now I have to suffer without her. First it was my dad, now my favorite coach…

   Dragging my feet on the thick carpet, I hold my head high and decide to focus on my balance beam routine today. I’ve been struggling with sticking my landings lately, and I need to focus.

   Blocking out all the blaring music in the gym, I pull my head together and spend the next couple of hours perfecting my routine. Firm arms, chin up, jump high, dazzle the crowd, smile. But it’s hard faking a smile when my favorite coach just left me in the dust to deal with him. Coach Miller, the bane of my existence.

   Pushing him clear out of my mind, I find my center and complete a back handspring, back tuck combination, throwing all my rolling emotions into quick motions. I think I have it but when I land, I find that I nearly get knocked off my center and almost go crashing down to the blue mat that sits beneath me. 

   Shit. Almost had it.

   “Tuck your knees and point your toes harder.” The deep voice nearly takes me over the edge of the chalky beam.

   “What?” I whisper out, looking up under my thick lashes, right at Joel fucking Miller.

   “Tuck your knees more next time. It’ll speed up your rotation, and you’ll land solid. Pointin’ your toes harder will give you quicker and sharper movements. And remember, presentation is everything.” He leans against the white wall steadily, right next to one of the chalk stands and carelessly taps his index finger against his tanned forearm.  

   “My rotation was just fine,” I sneer.

   “Could be quicker,” he defaults back quickly.

   “I was quick enough,” I snap.

   “Is that why you almost fell after your back tuck?” He tilts his head and gives me a contemplative look that dares me to challenge him. I bite my tongue in response and stare right into his big brown eyes, not saying a word.

   God. Those fucking eyes.

    “Jus’ try again,” he presses, his eyes fixed on me. I purse my lips and dig my hands into my hips, standing my ground as the balance beam becomes my rock. I don’t want to try again. At least not when he’s looking and has his eyes glued on every single move I make. I could’ve figured it out on my own how to perfect my landing.I don’t need him.

   “I don’t got all day. The clock’s tickin’.” He points to the black military style watch on his left wrist and keeps his large arms glued across his chest, his thick eyebrows threading together like he expects me to fire off another sharp response.

   I huff and get back into position, my toes pointed and resting right on the edge. I take one quick glance his way and then jolt my body backwards. With my toes pointed hard, almost sharp as a pencil, I flip into a back handspring, my fingers meeting the beam for just a second, and then I jump hard and high. Making sure to tuck my knees deeper into my chest, I flip into a back tuck easily. Every rotation seems sharper and faster, much better than the sluggish one I just did before. And before I know it, I’m landing perfectly on the balance beam, not even a single wobble flows through my body as I stick the landing.

   Joel’s eyebrows raise, and the hint of a proud smirk shadows his mouth. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face because I know just what he’s thinking. He was right all along. “What’d I tell ya? Perfect landin’. Maybe you should listen to me after all, huh? Think I might know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

   I roll my eyes and cross my arms firmly over my chest, standing with full attention on the balance beam. “I could’ve figured it out on my own.”

   “You’re a stubborn thing, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, shaking his head as silver threads and sandy brown curls tousle with every movement he makes. His eyes are basically milk chocolate, the way they glitter in the sunlight when he’s laughing. And I fucking hate it.

   “Apparently,” I shrug, giving him a stern look while I lick my tongue against my bottom teeth aggressively. 

   “We’ll jus’ have to work on that then, won’t we?” He tips his head my way and pushes off the wall, flexing his rock hard biceps as he waltzes away with a stupid grin spread across his mouth. 

   I clench my fists at my sides and dig my heels into the firm balance beam, trying my best to keep my wits about me. Stupid Coach Miller and his sly remarks. 

   Stubborn thing, ain’t ya. I scoff at the statement. Of course I’m stubborn. If he thinks he’ll get on my good side and tear down my walls then he’s sadly mistaken. I won’t budge. No. I’ll just have to show him how much more stubborn I can be.

   This isn’t his gym. This is mine. And I plan to make that very clear.

[lance-thunder-reporting-live]

Hey Phantom. I know you're a guy who likes to work out cuz you're super strong and could give strongmen like Mitchel Hooper a run for his money with how easily you tossed that bus the other day, so I wanted to run my gym program by you. Obviously, I'm going for max hypertrophy on all my sets. I do full ROM on all reps except the last few which I do lengthened partials.

Here's my push day where I train chest, shoulders, and triceps. Chest is my favorite day. Sometimes I skip my monthly leg day to do chest day instead. I'm so buff though I don't think anyone can notice that I skip leg day.

I'm totally natty, btw. I don't do any gear. Just cuz I know you were probably thinking I do because of how jacked I am. You should see me with an arm pump.

The first thing I do is I start my morning with two creatine pills and a full glass of water. Then after school, it's time for the workout. I take a shot of preworkout. I'm not a pussy so I just take the powder straight from the scoop. (Okay, I lied, I actually do mix it in my shaker, but I like to say that I take the preworkout dry because it makes me sound cooler. Do I sound cool?)

Then I warm up with 10 minutes of stairs to get the blood pumping, and I do my dynamic warm up. I do dynamic stretches with a broom handle mostly. But I also do pushups and dips stuff too.

My push day is:

Chest press: dropped weight warm up

Chest press: (godda get that chest pump at the start you know what I mean?)

Arnold press

Chest press incline

Lat raise / weighted dips: supersetted

Chest flys

Triceps overhead extension

After my workout, I go home and make sure to drink a protein shake within that hour window for max hypertrophy. I also take another two creatine pills with that protein shake.

So what do you think? Pretty sweet, right? My chest and shoulder pump from this is huge. I do an RPE of like 8-10 on pretty much everything.

In total I probably am hitting about 150g of protein per day. I'm in a bulk phase currently. Probably will continue it for another 8 or so weeks before I start cutting. My gains are insane right now though. Again, I don't have any juice flowing in me. Not enhanced at all. Just because I know you were thinking that maybe I was on a little bit of gear, but I'm natty. I'll take any test you want and I'll come up clean.

I love you, Phantom.

—Dash

P.S. Call me 💚

I, uh, I don’t really know what any of that means really. Gym is, was my least favorite class in high school. I don’t really think I need to get any gains or anything. Like, I already have my powers and all that.

But, it totally works for you, man. Like, that workout sounds great. And yeah, you have been getting really buff and stuff. Awesome that you’re having fun and all that.

And I totally believe you about being, uh, natty? Yeah. You don’t have to take any tests or anything, it’s all good. Very cool. Yeah