#forearm bicep tricep elbow

[demie90s]

Request from Pookie: @heartsforari

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Start Biting Paige Bueckers or Arms

Paige Bueckers x Fem!Reader

MASTERLIST | MORE

Vibe: Toned-arm obsession, chaotic cuddling, light biting, horny softness

Warnings: Suggestive content, biting (playful but also… not), lowkey obsession

Tone: Flirty, funny, intense with soft moments, cannibal-coded

Word Count ~ 2.1k

It started with her hoodie sleeves.

Specifically, the way she’d roll them up to the elbows—casual, effortless, like she didn’t know what she was doing. Like the muscle definition in her forearms wasn’t enough to stop traffic. Like she didn’t bend her wrist back while tying her shoes, showing off tendons and veins that looked like God handcrafted them during a moment of divine precision.

She was built. She’s 6’0. She had the arms of someone who could lift you and your entire attitude, throw you over her shoulder, like nothing happened. I was hanging on by a thread. Going through something spiritual.

I told her once. Just once. I said, “You ever roll your sleeves up like that again, and I might bite you.”

She laughed. Thought I was playing. Thought.

We were laid up on her couch, a random Saturday. Hoodie weather. Blankets. Something playing in the background—some game, probably, but I wasn’t paying attention. I was slouched into her side, one leg over hers, head leaning against her shoulder like I belonged there.

And maybe I did. But also? Maybe I was suffering.

Every time she moved, every time her fingers twitched or she reached for her drink, the muscles in her arm would flex just a little. Not even on purpose. Just enough to remind me that she was built like a Greek statue and had no idea the hold she had on me.

It was the curve of her bicep. The veins. That solid, smooth strength under soft skin. And she was so casual about it. Talking to me like everything was normal. Laughing. Relaxed.

So when she reached forward again, arm stretching across me to grab the remote, I blinked… and then just bit her.

Deadass. No hesitation. No warning. Just opened my mouth, leaned down, and sank my teeth into that perfect spot between her elbow and her shoulder.

Firm. Solid. Delicious. She flinched like I stabbed her.

“What the fuck?!” Paige yelped, snatching her arm back and staring at me with wide eyes. “Did you just—did you bite me?!”

I blinked up at her slowly, still pressed against the couch cushion like I hadn’t just gone full cannibal.

“…yeah.”

She just stared, holding her arm like I took a chunk out of her. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, completely deadpan. “I just… I looked at it, and I needed it in my mouth.”

“Girl.” Her face dropped.

“What you want me to say? My bad?”

“You’re not sorry.”

“Of course I’m not sorry. You built like that. You walk around with these arms and expect me to act normal?” She rubbed the bite mark like she was trying to erase the memory.

“That’s insane behavior,” she muttered, eyes still on me. “You bit me like a snack.”

“You are a snack,” I said defensively, leaning back in like I was gonna do it again.

She moved her arm just out of reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

I pouted, leaning into her lap like a sad, hungry puppy. “Just one more…”

“No.”

“Just a little one. A nibble.”

“Go brush your teeth.”

“Let me love you.”

“Get off me.”

But she was smiling now. She pulled her sleeve down and tried to act mad. Tried to turn back to the game like I didn’t just lose my entire mind over her triceps. But her hand found my thigh a few minutes later—just resting there, warm and easy. And when I leaned in and whispered, “That bite came from a place of love,” she rolled her eyes.

But she didn’t move her arm. And I didn’t bite again.

I don’t know what came over me.

One second I was just looking at her—like normal, like every other second of my goddamn day—and the next, I was moving. Lunging. There wasn’t a thought in my head, just raw instinct, pure muscle memory built off months of holding it together.

And then I bit her.

Hard enough to make her hiss through her teeth. Not hard enough to bruise. But enough to feel it. Right on her arm, near that thick line of muscle that forms when she flexes, when she holds herself up, when she wraps herself around me like a shield.

She blinked, slow. Looked down at me like I was wild prey in her kitchen.

“You did not just bite me again.”

I grinned, already inching back in for more. “You’re too fine to be walking around like that and expect me not to respond.”

Before I could get a second taste, she grabbed me—with ease—and in one smooth, practiced motion, Paige Bueckers threw me over her shoulder like she worked security at TSA.

Upside down and full of love.

“Oh my God— Paige!” I shouted, hanging there like a sack of flour. “Why is this making me worse?”

“You need help,” she muttered, marching toward the bed like I weighed nothing. “You’re not normal.”

“And I don’t wanna be!”

She tossed me on the bed like she was unloading a carry-on and stepped back, arms crossed, breathing like she was trying not to laugh. I laid there flat, stunned, starry-eyed, hair wild, staring up at her like she just split the sea in front of me.

She had the nerve to stretch a little, hoodie riding up, exposing the peak of her stomach and those arms again.

I rose like a demon.

Crawled to the edge of the bed like I was being summoned by divine force. And then I grabbed her arm—gently this time—and pressed a kiss to the inside of her forearm.

She flinched. “No.” I kissed her again, higher.

“No biting.”

I kissed her tricep. “I’m not biting.”

“You said that before.”

I kissed the curve of her shoulder, slow. Reverent. And then I did it. Bit.

Soft. Gentle. Like a lover’s nibble. Like worship. Just a little pressure with my teeth, lips warm, tongue following after with a soft hum of contentment.

She pulled her arm back an inch, staring down at me.

“Yo… are you alright?”

I just smiled up at her, teeth catching my bottom lip.

“No,” I whispered.

Then I reached for her waist. Pulled her closer. Let my hands slide under her hoodie, over her hips, thumbs brushing the cut of her sides. My mouth was back on her arm, kissing, nuzzling, teeth grazing again and again like I needed it to breathe.

“You’re so fine it’s actually a problem,” I murmured against her skin.

She exhaled hard. “I swear if you leave teeth marks—”

“Then you’ll know who you belong to.”

She stared at me. Shook her head. But didn’t pull away. Didn’t stop me either.

Her hand slid into my hair—slow at first, like she was just trying to move it, keep it out of my face while I kept kissing up her arm like I was reading Braille with my mouth. But then she gripped.

Not hard. Not rough. Just… firm. Fingers curling into the roots, holding me in place while I hummed against her skin like she just gave me my favorite flavor. My lips were right on that perfect curve between her bicep and shoulder, and when I felt her tug ever so slightly—ever so slightly—I paused.

Mid-bite. Mid-kiss. I looked up at her, still attached to her damn arm, with the dumbest, horniest expression imaginable.

Eyes half-lidded. Mouth open. Completely gone. Like I didn’t know whether to keep kissing her or bark.

“You really like this,” she muttered, half-annoyed, half-somewhere else entirely.

My mouth was still on her arm when I nodded, slow. Unbothered. Unashamed. I was thriving.

“You put your hand in my hair,” I said, muffled against her skin. “You trying to fuck?”

She stared down at me like I was a wild animal she accidentally raised from birth. “You need to be institutionalized.”

“And yet,” I whispered, trailing kisses down her forearm, “here you are. Feeding me.”

Another tug. A little sharper this time. I gasped. Froze. Smirked. Looked back up at her like she just awakened something she wasn’t ready to answer for.

“You gon’ take responsibility for this?” I asked, guiding her hand back into my hair.

She didn’t answer. She just let me kiss her again, slower now. My hands running down her waist. My lips chasing every muscle like I wanted to learn her body by heart. And I did.

“God,” she groaned, finally pulling me back by the hair just enough to make me arch. “You’re so—”

“In love?” I offered, dizzy with it.

She shook her head, but her eyes were hungry now.

“You’re lucky I like crazy.”

“You better,” I whispered, sliding back onto the bed with my arms wide. “You made me like this.”

She was just holding herself up. Just… bracing on the bed, one arm beside my head, the other lightly tugging my hair like she was keeping me grounded. Like she knew I was seconds from floating out of my body and into horny heaven.

And all I could see—all I could think about—were her arms.

Veins. Flexed. Solid. Skin smooth and warm under my hands. I was palming her biceps like I paid for them. Gripping like I had the right. And maybe I did. God knows I earned this moment after years of suffering.

I licked my lips, eyes locked on her forearm. My voice came out low, stupid, wrecked.

“I could honestly get off to just your arms.”

Paige blinked. “What?”

“Fuck,” I breathed, squeezing again. “You look so good, Paige. Like, disrespectfully good. You ever think about what that’s like for the rest of us? Having to look at you?”

She blinked down at me, half-laughing, half-shocked, but I was already kissing her again. Not her mouth—her bicep. Open-mouthed. Slow. Like she was a sin I was desperate to commit twice.

“I’m not even trying right now,” she said, voice tight with disbelief.

“That’s the worst part.” My lips moved up to her shoulder, dragging, desperate. “You’re just existing. You’re hovering over me with these goddamn arms, and I’m two seconds from moaning over muscle definition.”

“You are insane.”

“I’m in love,” I whispered against her skin. “And you’re mean for not understanding how bad you’ve got me.”

She shook her head slowly, like she couldn’t believe me. But her hips pressed down. Just enough. Just enough.

“Say one more thing about my arms,” she murmured, close enough that our noses brushed. I grinned.

“I’d let you crush my skull between them.”

She laughed. That low, breathless kind of laugh she only gives when she’s genuinely surprised by me. Then she shook her head, like I’m the ridiculous one, and laid back on the bed, arms behind her head like she was clocking out.

She really thought I was done.

Like I hadn’t just confessed that her arms could end me. Like I hadn’t spent the last ten minutes kissing them like scripture and moaning into her skin. She laid down. So I climbed on top.

Didn’t even wait. Just swung a leg over her hips and sat. Pressed myself down slowly, deliberately, mouth already back on her forearm.

“Oh my god—” she groaned.

But I didn’t stop. Couldn’t. I was moving against her now, slow and grinding like my body had its own agenda, hands wrapped around her biceps again like I was trying to memorize the way they felt under my palms. My mouth was dragging open kisses up the curve of her shoulder. Hickies. Hot breath. Tongue.

Every now and then I’d bite—just a little. My teeth would sink in with a hum I couldn’t hold back, and I’d flinch, trying to pull myself back from really biting, from marking her up like she belonged to me.

Spoiler: she did.

“Yo,” she gasped under me, half-laughing, half-concerned, “are you seriously—can you really get off to this?! It’s just arms!”

“It’s your arms,” I said, breathless. “That’s different.”

She shifted under me, but not to push me off. No, her hands found my thighs, grounding me. Her head tilted back, eyes closed, like she was trying to keep it together. And me? I was panting, grinding, lips dragging down the inside of her arm like I was feeding off of her. Like this was survival.

I kissed her again, right over a new hickey blooming on her bicep, and whispered, “I could come just like this. No hands. Just you. Just this.”

She groaned. Actually groaned. Her hands gripped tighter on my thighs.

“I am so scared of you,” she muttered.

“I’m scared of me.”

She opened her eyes then, looked at me like she’d finally accepted that I was not okay—and that maybe, just maybe, she liked it. Because she didn’t tell me to stop. Didn’t move me. She just let me work through it. Let me kiss and grind and whimper into her arms like I was starved.

“You’re so fine,” I breathed against her shoulder. “You don’t even know.”

“I’m starting to.”

“Good,” I whispered, biting down again, slow and sweet and worshipful. “Now shut up and let me adore you.”

@xxsnowxx213 @draculara-vonvamp @kcannon-1436-blog @let-zizi-yap @perksofbeingatrex @soapyonaropey @julieluvspb @non3ofurbusiness @kcannon-1436-blog

[abstractvanity32]

Season 3

TF Blurb - Transformative Hike

Julie tightened the straps of her backpack, sweat trickling down her neck as she squinted at the overgrown trail marker. The humid coastal breeze did little to cool her as she wandered off-path, drawn by the sound of crashing waves.

Her white tank top clung to her petite frame, her denim shorts riding up uncomfortably. She’d regretted this solo hike instantly—until she stumbled into the clearing.

A gnarled cypress tree twisted toward the sky, its branches framing a vista of turquoise water and sun-bleached rocks below. But it was the object dangling from a low branch that caught her eye: sleek black sunglasses with mirrored lenses, glinting like a dare.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice swallowed by the salt-heavy air. No answer.

Her fingers brushed the sunglasses—and the world hummed.

Julie gasped as her pink-polished nails yellowed, then cracked, hardening into rough, masculine cuticles. Her dainty feet thickened, tendons and veins snaking beneath skin bronzing to a deep olive. Sandals materialized—black flip-flops—straps digging into widening arches as her soles flattened against the earth.

Her calves bulged, muscle fibers knitting into corded knots beneath a dusting of dark hair. Denim seams groaned as her thighs swelled, pressing against fabric now deepening from faded blue to rich maroon. The shorts tightened, riding higher as her hips narrowed, pelvis grinding inward with a series of wet pops.

Julie clawed at her tank top as her waist thickened, soft curves replaced by rigid obliques. A burning heat spread across her abdomen—ridges forming, one by one, until a six-pack gleamed under the sun.

Her shoulders cracked outward, broadening into a V-shape that tore her shirt’s seams. Fabric disintegrated, revealing pecs swelling into firm slabs, nipples darkening and flattening against the new muscle.

Delicate fingers knotted into meaty palms, veins roping up forearms that doubled in size. Biceps swelled against invisible weights, triceps sharpening as her elbows calloused. She flexed involuntarily, a deep, unfamiliar laugh rumbling in her chest.

Her heart pounded as her jawline squared, cheekbones sharpening beneath stretching skin. Soft lips thinned, her nose broadening slightly. A prickling sensation crawled across her scalp—her auburn ponytail shortening, darkening to a crew cut as if devoured by shadow.

The sunglasses levitated, snapping onto her face. The lenses flashed, searing her eyes hazel-to-brown, her vision sharpening as the world saturated into hyper-clarity.

He inhaled—a deep, chest-expanding breath—and grinned.

“Damn,” his voice boomed, rich and amused. He rolled his shoulders, marveling at the way sunlight danced on his sculpted chest. The maroon shorts hugged his powerful thighs perfectly; the flip-flops felt like they’d always been there.

[mockerycrow]

aaaaah I'm so glad your askbox is open!! Could I possibly request Gaz and some body worship please?

➸ battle ready (gaz x gn!reader)

a/n; drabble/short fic !! you didn’t specify who was getting worshipped, so i made this about gaz getting worshipped :p enjoy! — pudgy, muscular men agenda btw

[warnings; extremely suggestive, soft, fluffy.]

In all senses of it, you loved Kyle’s body. Starting from the top, you love his prominent nose, the way it dips into his philtrum and cupid’s bow, his full lips. His strong brow bone and his wrinkles along his forehead, the smile lines ingrained in his face. The two small atrophic scars below his eye is something you always adored. 

You love the way Kyle’s jaw curves, his big brown eyes. Fuck, everyone knew you couldn’t say no to the man when he would flash you a pretty smile paired with his eyes.

You trail your mouth down his neck—God, his neck. You’d never tell him in fear of him finding it stupid, but you love his throat and shoulders. Strong and full of power—his Adam’s apple jutting out against your lips. You love his throat because inside is his vocal cords—you could get drunk off of hearing him talk, hearing him laugh. Kyle’s joy means so much to you, so much more than he will ever know.

Kyle murmurs your name softly as your lips trail across his collarbone, nearing his chest. 

You love his chest, wide and muscular with a little bit of pudge (well, he has some pudge everywhere); enough muscle to overpower and destroy, enough pudge to know he’s eating right and taking care of himself. You let out a soft sigh as your lips brush against a nipple before you press soft kiss to the skin right below his left pec, following the random pattern of beauty marks and freckles across his torso.

Kyle’s hand comes up and rests on your bare back as you trail over to his arms. You love his arms—you love his everything, to be fair, but the pure power from his arms drives you out of your mind sometimes. The muscles, his strong bicep flexing and molding into his triceps—you wanna bite him, honestly. Bite him and never let go. Especially when he wears t-shirts that hug his arms.

Trailing down his upper arm, over his inner elbow to his thick forearms. The muscles and tendons underneath the skin you appreciate like they’re a fine instrument; aren’t they, for a man like Kyle? His fingers, his precision. You press kisses down his forearm, between his veins until you get to his wrist. Kyle looks at you and his eyebrows twitch as he watches your tongue and drag across his pulse point, against his wrist bone.

It sends a shudder down his spine as your lips move to his palm. Kyle’s hands are incredible; rough to the touch yet so gentle with his lover, you. His calluses scratch you gently when he rubs your back, but his palm is so careful with you. Kyle uses his hands to break so much, but he uses them to preserve you—you and your grown together home.

“What’re you doin’?”

Kyle’s voice breaks you out of your near hungry trance, your eyes flickering up to his. He isn’t upset in any sense; he’s nervous, really. Kyle adores attention, but.. you’re being so slow. Meticulous and careful. 

“Appreciating you.” You murmur against his palm, brushing your nose against it before moving over to right below his sternum. You’re met with a quiet yet sharp inhale from the man below you, the muscles tightening as you press slow, gentle kisses down his stomach. Kyle’s stomach is built yet a small layer of fat exists over his abs, the man built for force and survival instead of showing off like bodybuilders.

You catch his eyes and hold his gaze as you kiss down below his belly button before his head rolls back with his stomach tightening.

Kyle groans as you pepper kisses lower and lower. This isn’t the first time you’ve done this, and certainly will not be the last. Not by a long shot.

[goblisslive]

National Fitness Test: 10 Categories with By-Decade Standards

1. Bar Hang (Grip Strength)

Purpose: Measures grip strength and muscular endurance, critical for functional tasks and correlated with longevity (studies show grip strength predicts mortality risk).

Test: Hang from a pull-up bar with an overhand grip, arms fully extended, for maximum time.

Standards (seconds):

20s: Men: 60, Women: 45

30s: Men: 55, Women: 40

40s: Men: 50, Women: 35

50s: Men: 45, Women: 30

60s: Men: 35, Women: 25

70s+: Men: 25, Women: 20

2. 1-Mile Run (Aerobic Endurance)

Purpose: Assesses cardiovascular fitness and endurance, a key indicator of heart health (VO2 max declines ~10% per decade).

Test: Run 1 mile on a flat surface or track as fast as possible.

Standards (minutes:seconds):

20s: Men: 6:30, Women: 7:30

30s: Men: 7:00, Women: 8:00

40s: Men: 7:30, Women: 8:30

50s: Men: 8:15, Women: 9:15

60s: Men: 9:00, Women: 10:00

70s+: Men: 10:00, Women: 11:00

3. 200m Run (Speed/Power)

Purpose: Tests anaerobic power and sprint capacity, reflecting fast-twitch muscle performance.

Test: Sprint 200 meters on a track as fast as possible.

Standards (seconds):

20s: Men: 28, Women: 32

30s: Men: 30, Women: 34

40s: Men: 32, Women: 36

50s: Men: 35, Women: 39

60s: Men: 40, Women: 45

70s+: Men: 48, Women: 54

4. Pull-Ups (Upper Body Strength)

Purpose: Measures upper body pulling strength (lats, biceps), crucial for functional movements.

Test: Perform maximum pull-ups with full range of motion (chin above bar, no kipping).

Standards (reps):

20s: Men: 12, Women: 5

30s: Men: 10, Women: 4

40s: Men: 8, Women: 3

50s: Men: 6, Women: 2

60s: Men: 4, Women: 1

70s+: Men: 2, Women: 1 (or assisted pull-ups)

5. Dips (Upper Body Strength)

Purpose: Assesses pushing strength (triceps, chest, shoulders) and core stability.

Test: Perform maximum dips on parallel bars, lowering until shoulders are below elbows.

Standards (reps):

20s: Men: 20, Women: 12

30s: Men: 18, Women: 10

40s: Men: 15, Women: 8

50s: Men: 12, Women: 6

60s: Men: 8, Women: 4

70s+: Men: 5, Women: 3

6. Push-Ups (Upper Body Endurance)

Purpose: Tests upper body endurance and core strength, accessible to all fitness levels.

Test: Perform maximum push-ups in one set with proper form (chest to within 2 inches of ground).

Standards (reps):

20s: Men: 40, Women: 25

30s: Men: 35, Women: 22

40s: Men: 30, Women: 18

50s: Men: 25, Women: 15

60s: Men: 20, Women: 12

70s+: Men: 15, Women: 10 (or modified push-ups)

7. Plank Hold (Core Endurance)

Purpose: Evaluates core stability and endurance, vital for posture and injury prevention.

Test: Hold a forearm plank with a neutral spine for maximum time.

Standards (seconds):

20s: Men: 120, Women: 100

30s: Men: 110, Women: 90

40s: Men: 100, Women: 80

50s: Men: 90, Women: 70

60s: Men: 75, Women: 60

70s+: Men: 60, Women: 50

8. Vertical Jump (Lower Body Power)

Purpose: Measures explosive leg power, reflecting strength and coordination.

Test: Jump as high as possible from a standing position, measuring vertical height.

Standards (inches):

20s: Men: 24, Women: 18

30s: Men: 22, Women: 16

40s: Men: 20, Women: 14

50s: Men: 18, Women: 12

60s: Men: 15, Women: 10

70s+: Men: 12, Women: 8

9. Sit-and-Reach (Flexibility)

Purpose: Assesses lower back and hamstring flexibility, key for mobility and injury prevention.

Test: Sit with legs extended, reach forward toward toes, measure distance past or before toes.

Standards (inches past toes):

20s: Men: +2, Women: +4

30s: Men: +1, Women: +3

40s: Men: 0, Women: +2

50s: Men: -1, Women: +1

60s: Men: -2, Women: 0

70s+: Men: -3, Women: -1

10. Single-Leg Balance (Balance/Stability)

Purpose: Tests balance and proprioception, critical for fall prevention, especially in older adults.

Test: Stand on one leg with eyes open, hands on hips, for maximum time (up to 60 seconds).

Standards (seconds):

20s: Men: 60, Women: 60

30s: Men: 60, Women: 60

40s: Men: 55, Women: 55

50s: Men: 50, Women: 50

60s: Men: 40, Women: 40

70s+: Men: 30, Women: 30

Rationale for Additional Categories

Plank Hold: Core strength is foundational for all movements and reduces injury risk.

Vertical Jump: Adds a lower body power metric, complementing the sprints and assessing explosive strength.

Sit-and-Reach: Flexibility is often overlooked but critical for mobility and injury prevention.

Single-Leg Balance: Balance becomes increasingly important with age, especially for fall prevention (falls are a leading cause of injury in 60s+).

Notes

Standards: Numbers are based on fitness norms (e.g., ACSM guidelines, Cooper Institute data) adjusted for age and sex, aiming for a "healthy" benchmark (roughly 50th-60th percentile). They’re challenging but achievable with regular training.

Modifications: For 60s and 70s+, modified versions (e.g., assisted pull-ups, knee push-ups) can be offered to ensure inclusivity.

Implementation: Tests should be conducted with proper warm-up and supervision to ensure safety, especially for older adults.

[abarbaricyalp]

🦐 if you haven't done one for it yet 😆

🦐 : Fishing boat I was going to wait to post this for Samtember, but the Paul and Darlene prompt is too far away 😅

Sam almost tripped down the last two steps into the cabin of the boat when he realized there was someone asleep on the ratty two-seater that took up the side wall. Sam himself had slept there countless times, window cracked open so he could hear the sound of the ocean (but not let in seagulls). It was as familiar a bed and lullaby as his mama's arms and song.

Still, this was not the boat for strange men to lay about in. He put up the toolbox he'd been using to fix the screen door. The one in the truck had disappeared when he was meant to be reattaching the window units to the upper floors in the new house. If he didn't put the boat's box up, it would be the next victim of the fixer-upper that had become a black hole for tools, supplies, and old work shirts.

He made sure the box wasn't going to fall over as soon as the tide came in and then moved to kick the intruder's dusty boot. The one attached to the leg that was sprawled across half the length the cabin, not the one that was thrown over the back of the couch. "You can't sleep here, old man," he said. "Find some other hole."

The man startled upright, lurching to his feet and reaching for the stained Wilson Family Seafood cap he'd had over his face to block out the light. For a moment, he looked young again. Bashful at being caught, a little confused about where he was, uncertain on his feet as the boat swayed under his sudden movement.

He wrung the cap in his hands like it was some cloth newsboy thing instead of something with a brim and metal buckle at the back. "Gosh, Sam," he said, ducking his head and flashing up baby blues at him from across the cabin. "I didn't mean to, honest."

Sam's chest tightened so fiercely, he almost thought he'd be sick with it. "No harm, no foul," he said, instead of offering up everything he had. "Head on out, now."

When the man kept staring at Sam, wide eyed, apologetic but not quite contrite, Sam moved to lean against the back of the wheel column. He crossed his arms over his chest and watched the man's hungry gaze take in the movement and the effect, shirt pulling tight across his biceps and chest.

"I can make it up to you," he offered, eyes snapping up to Sam's face.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "And what do you think it's worth?" he asked.

The man began to close the distance between them. It was all of three steps even when the cabin wasn't a mess of half completed projects and late night camp outs, but he made it slow somehow anyway. He put the cap on again, backwards this time so the brim wasn't in his face, so his hair was pulled back away from cheekbones and a square jaw and those damn bright eyes.

"What do you need?" he asked, when he'd come close enough that, if his arms were crossed too, their forearms would be touching. He brought his fingers up to Sam's elbows, trailed them up his triceps. On habit, Sam squeezed his arms in to his ribs to avoid being tickled. The man only grinned, crooked and easy, and brought his fingers back down to Sam's elbows. He was long fingered and sun-warmed and Sam never wanted him to let go. "I'm good with my hands."

Sam laughed once. He had to look away from the show in front of him. He bit his lip, willed the joy in his chest to simmer down again. That was a losing battle.

The man ducked his head so he was within Sam's vision again. "I'm better with more than my hands," he offered.

"You're shameless," Sam corrected.

The man grinned and shrugged, each as crooked and carefree as the other. "I spent a lot of my life bein' ashamed. Now when I see something I want, I get it. I'm not wastin' anymore time."

Sam finally unfolded his arms so he could put two fingertips to the man's cheek, then flattened his hand against his face. The man's eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into Sam's touch, vulnerable and safe at the same time. He knew it. Sam knew it. Safe with each other. Safe in this boat. Safe from shame.

Safe from work too, now that Sam thought about it.

He guided the man closer until he could duck his head down and kiss him softly. "You really should get out of this boat," he warned quietly. "My sister's gonna be out at some point. She don't like other people messin' around in here."

The man was literally swaying on his feet. His eyes still weren't open. "I don't mind," he said. "I've been yelled at before."

"Nah, you don't know her like I do," Sam insisted. He took a step back and the man blindly followed his lead. He sat when Sam shifted a little, eyes open now, and put his hands on Sam's hips when Sam straddled his thighs. "She might throw you in the ocean this time."

"She'd knock you overboard first. You're the one always tinkering with the engine. What's she gonna say when she realizes you used the boat tools for something else?"

"She's not gonna know," Sam promised.

"She's gonna know."

"How's she gonna know?"

"I'm gonna tell her to keep from having to walk the plank."

Sam laughed and draped his arms over Bucky's shoulders. "Are you blackmailing me now? Weren't you just trying to pay back sleeping in my boat?"

"Was I?" Bucky asked. "You figure out what it was worth yet?"

"I think I've got an idea."

"I'm all ears, sweetheart."

"I don't need your ears for this one."

Bucky grinned against Sam's mouth and let Sam kiss him like they'd never get caught down here. And when, a few hours later, they woke up again, sore from the uncomfortable tangle on the uncomfortable couch, he offered to payback another nap on the boat. And another, and another, and as many as he could fit into this life time.

[aureli-us]

tesfest day 6: mirror

hello all!!! i haven't been posting these on tumblr but i really enjoyed writing this one, so i figured why not 😎 maybe i'll post the rest after tesfest is done! otherwise they are all on my ao3 :3

This time, when he walked by the tall, slender mirror in their bedroom, he actually stopped.

He avoided mirrors if he could, rarely ever checked himself prior to going anywhere or doing anything. If Tharya complimented him on their way out, then he knew he'd done fine. But he hated it, his own stupidity with these things. It was utterly trivial. In Apocrypha he had moaned and wept and prayed for a mirror to remember his face by, anything to grant him his reflection that he had forgotten. And now that he walked so freely amongst mirrors large and small, he disliked them.

But he made himself stand in front of this one. One of the great joys of his mornings was watching from bed as Tharya got ready in front of this mirror. One of his great joys in the evening was watching her undress and step into her sleeping clothes, watching her inspect herself in this mirror. She did it so easily. It was foolish of him to run from his own reflection like a scared deer. He forced his gaze to his own body, the vessel he so often felt...unnattached from. The thing he had lost sight of in Apocrypha as well, not for lack of a reflection, but for lack of its preservation. Hermaeus Mora had ravaged his skin and bones countless times, torn him, knit him together, touched him, split him, crushed him.

Yet the mirror showed his body as whole. How strange. It was...different than he thought he remembered from the Merethic Era. He'd been a bit thinner then, the muscles in his stomach more prominent. Now his midriff was cushioned by a healthy layer of fat, though he was sure if he tensed, it would all go rigid. The muscle had not vanished, just changed shape. His chest had perhaps been a bit smaller, his arms not as big. He could heard Morokei's voice in the back of his mind, a fleeting memory from his childhood, at the point where Miraak had learned that if he would never be taller than his peers, he would have to be stronger. Aelskling, you've gotten bigger! He thought those words and found himself...brightened by their presence. He was sure Morokei would say the same now - in the Merethic Era he had been strong, but less hulking, less dense.

His legs had never been so thick either, but as he examined them they were nicely proportionate to the rest of him. Faint stretch marks decorated his inner thighs. Softer at rest, a good cushion for the woman who so often occupied his lap. And...quite long. Had they always been like that? He supposed it made sense because of his height. Atmorans were a long-limbed people. Still, he peered at them in the mirror, dressed in only his smallclothes and with tight concentration behind his eyes. Both Tharya and Bhijirio had remarked before that he looked taller the less clothes he wore. He didn't know how that happened, but it seemed a fair statement. Here, now, the optical illusion of wearing less did seem to make him...a bit bigger than he thought he was.

Hesitantly he lifted one arm, curled it, and watched his bicep contract, bulging against his forearm before he stretched the arm out. Thick veins decorated the hinge of his shoulder and shot down into his arm. Veins that carried real blood, not the sludge of Apocrypha. Strange. He put the arm down to twist it, examining his tricep and elbow in the mirror. All strangely mundane parts of the body, yet he couldn't help as if he'd never seen them before. Holding his arm like this made it press into his chest, creasing his pectorals together and disfiguring the long scar slashing over them. Warily he held his chest in both hands, trying to emulate the sensation of the way Tharya did it. No, that was ridiculous. He didn't need to grope himself just for- for research.

But that scar...as he traced it, the open-mouthed concentration in his face settled into grim deliberation. That scar had almost torn his heart out. Almost ruptured his lungs and ripped through his ribs. He was lucky his healers had grabbed him when they did, otherwise he would have surely lost his life to Paarthurnax that day. The old worm had left him to bleed out in the lush foothill they fought upon. Perhaps he had known it was the crux of his Thu'um, its home nestled to his heart between his ribs. Perhaps he had merely been living up to his name.

Silently he let his hand slip up to the base of his neck, but immediately it felt itchy just sitting there. He didn't like things around his throat. He wore his necklaces loose and low because of it. He let Tharya touch his neck, but she never held it in the way he did hers. A pang of guilt slithered into his gut at that. That didn't seem fair.

He stepped a bit closer to the mirror and bent down to examine his face closely in the reflective silver. It was difficult, but he felt he must. Carefully he took in his eyes and nose, his undefined cheekbones. The neat edge of his beard. Absently he ran his fingers through it - soft, trimmed, and oiled. Little things. He thanked the gods he'd been blessed with the ability to grow one so fully. Vahlok always used to have a little stubborn patch below his chin that refused to grow. The memory made him smile however faintly, chuckling to himself, but he zeroed in as quickly as possible to catch the expression before it faded. Gods. What a dreary sight. He remembered smiling with his teeth once upon a time, laughing freely. Did he always look so...bland? Poor Tharya.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, ruffling it a bit to let it fall looser. He didn't have Althëa's curls, but his hair had little waves in its inner layers that sometimes curled if he let it grow long enough. It, like his beard, was one of the very few things about his appearance he truly cared about. More for habit than any real love of his own visage. Humming curiously, he decided to comb his hair back with his fingers, pushing away the little pieces that usually framed his forehead. He wanted to know why Tharya always said he looked so different with his hair swept back.

The change was small, but very noticeable. Even removing those few strands seemed to...open his features more. He realized she was absolutely right - it did look good. As he straightened out and examined himself in the mirror again, he hardly recognized his own face. It all seemed to flow differently.

His concentration was broken by the door coming open, but, in a brief panic, his feet remained rooted to the spot. Gods, he would look like an idiot standing here. No one did such foolish things unless they were daft in the head. He found himself warming with - what was that? Shame? The guilt of being caught? - as Tharya stepped in, still dressed from the day.

"Hi, beautiful," she said easily, smiling at him. Heat creeped into his neck. Gods, how many thousands of years since he'd blushed? He almost wanted to laugh at himself. Almost. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "I am...I had a bath."

"That's exactly what I'm about to do," she snickered, joining him to put her hands on his hips. She squeezed him lovingly, and he noticed for the first time how that little extra bit of fat that he hadn't had before pooled into her palms so perfectly. "You look spooked." Her hands traversed his body so easily, drawing up his arms, rounding his shoulders and settling on his chest. He had admitted to her before she seemed to know his body better than he did, and it was true. She knew the strongest parts of him, and she knew the softest. She knew where to touch him to make him crumble into her palms and where exactly to touch him to inflate him, to make him stand straight. She knew how to hug him to make him feel the thousands of eyes on his back retreat. She knew how to stroke his hair and trace his face to tease him into sleeping. She knew the places on his body that had never healed completely in Tel Mithryn, and she knew which scars he still felt the most, and which she could kiss. "Everything okay?"

He blinked at her and then merely nodded, feeling dazed at how many things she knew of him, how he could so easily list them. He liked to think he returned it, but she had a certain intimate knowledge of his body that he simply could not have with hers. She had been the one to take care of him for so long, after all. It only made sense. He glanced in the mirror again - if she knew him so well, then there was only one question his curiosity begged to ask.

Wordlessly he held her hips and turned her around, watching her peer at him in the mirror.

"Tell me what you see," he whispered. "Please."

[blazingstar29]

Top Gun Workouts - Slider

Everyone’s favourite [living] RIO

Disclaimer: I’m not a PT. In this series i break down characters muscle composition and how i think they’d exercise, if this may trigger you feel free to enjoy my other general shit posting!

Find the rest of the series under #top gun workouts :) So far there’s Mav and Ice

Slider is is also very interesting in his muscular make up. He’s tall, about 6’2 (?) and this DOES matter but not how you think and it’s something I’ll get into in more detail with Goose. Also keep in mind a lot of shirtless photos of Slider are during the volleyball scene so the actors will be in peak physique and probably have done some exercise before shooting to give themselves a ‘pump’.

I know forearms are a big deal for some of y’all and you’re right to be obsessed with them. Hold out out your arm in front of you as if you’re reaching for something. Does your for arm flex like Slider’s? Some might, some won’t. But for the hollow above the inside of your elbow to appear at the same time as the muscle at the top of your forearm (the sort facing the ceiling) that’s actually very impressive. It’s a combination of low body fat and muscle.

Sir, put them pits away. It’s pretty blurry but the concave of the arm pit, huge lateral bulge, front deltoid and shoulder are flexed here but even so, that doesn’t appear by itself.

Slider’s got a low body fat. Flexed on the left and relaxed on the right you can see his muscling pretty clear. Like with Maverick, we see those obliques. Unlike Mav, Slider’s got a slightly narrower waist. And those boulder shoulders are ginormous, well done Rick. His traps aren’t super big which makes sense when we look at his legs in a minute.

Everyone say thank you Rick for the effort he put in flying into sand and those arms. Full, well defined shoulders, good biceps and impeccable triceps. Yes flexed, no less impressive. Rick knows what hes doing in the gym. In the bottom photo you see those lats and scapular being flexed which shows us the muscle composition nicely. But like everyone, there’s thing that he didn’t focus on as much.

Slider please work on your legs. I’m kidding but it’s interesting to see that he’s got lean legs but next to know muscling. I have a theory for this but it’s more applicable to Goose so I’ll go into detail there with him. Something I’m noticing about the cast is that they don’t have huge chests. Like, these dudes are pretty built but they’re chests aren’t. Especially if you take a look at these guys either side of Goose.

Probably the typical 80’s lads. Beefier and more built chests. Perhaps there was a focus for the cast to have big stereotypical dude arms? I feel mean calling picking a part their lack of muscling in some areas but there is very few pectoral muscles on stand out in the cast. Hollywood and Ice perhaps being the only ones. Maybe a creative choice for the cast to focus on the ‘hotter’ parts of their body but also may have been a fitness trend in then80’s?

I hate to say it but the tag “Ron Slider Kener’s tits” isn’t…I’m sorry guys but these are not certified jugs im SORRY (I’m kidding, use that tag it’s hilarious and i love it)

Now onto what sort of exercise Slider would do? I have some ideas and a lot of them are built around this.

Slider you are a show OFF. This is a body building pose if I’m not mistake. He’s doing the vacuum stomach to flex his abs and angling his arms to show them off. Body building is time consuming and requires a certain diet so I don’t think Slider would be purposefully training whilst, I think he may have dabbled in it during College where he had a bit more freedom. Regardless he puts a lot into his physique.

Further more:

That’s an ankle wrap, now this might just be ankle support for beach volleyball but let me tell you something. If you’ve sprained your ankle badly, and I mean badly, that shit fucks you up for life if you don’t rehab it right. Now again, this may just be for support because both Ice and Slider have the same wrap on the same foot, but taking into account Slider’s lack of muscle on his legs, there’s a potential injury there. Which if you ever need to shunt Slider away out of a story, it’s a good option lmao (guilty as charged.)

If he’s not deadlifting then that may contribute to not having huge trapezoids. For how built his shoulders are I expected them to be bigger. I understood with Ice because his overall physique is just different but Slider confuses me.

Okay, now the actual exercises:

Back, bi’s and tri’s BABY. Over and over and over. They are his pride and joy.

Wide grip bicep barbell curls, hammer curls, arnold press, lateral raises. Tricep dips, tricep cable extensions. Anything and everything.

Rowing, either on the water or on a rowing machine. It takes the weight off his ankle. Potentially cycling too but he’d likely have bigger calves.

[erenasia]

Project G1 : Chapter 2, Regrets

This is an ongoing Series: Prologue , Chapter 1. Overview: Something doesn't sit right with you after last night. You begin to question Christian's antics...and things go south quickly. ⊹₊⟡⋆ Tw: Toxic father Figure/ Mentalities. Mentions of Kidnapping, corpses. Words: 3.2k

A/N : sorry this one took a bit! work got in the way, but I had a free afternoon!

Red. It isn’t the most discreet colour, but as you slowly dip your brush into the thick substance pooling in the metal tin, you can’t help but smile. Bringing the brush over to the robotic arm laid gently on your lap, defensive thoughts validate your choices.

‘Fuck discreet. This colour looks pretty. It’s covered up when I go out anyway.’ 

Painting the metal appendage has become quite a habit of yours ; whilst in the beginning,  Christian wasn’t a fan of it, he soon conceded with the intention of it saving an argument - as there were already way too many of those back then. To be frank, there still is. 

Red. 

It isn’t the most discreet colour, but as you slowly dip your brush into the thick substance pooling in the tin, you can’t help but smile. Bringing the brush over to the robotic arm laid gently on your lap, defensive thoughts validate your choices.

Fuck discreet. This colour looks pretty. It’s covered up when I go out anyway.

Painting the metal appendage has become quite a habit of yours; whilst in the beginning, Christian wasn’t a fan of it, he soon conceded with the intention of it saving an argument— as there were already way too many of those back then. 

To be frank, there still is. 

Two years ago, the first colour of choice was a deep purple, highlighting the metal bicep; unfortunately though, the paint chipped almost immediately— acrylic paint only goes so far, after all. 

Eventually though, Christian caved and took pity on you, if only to save his hard engineering work; he managed to source some paint designed for vehicles— and that was when you switched to blue. 

It was a midnight shade in hue, and coloured each individual mechanic ‘muscle’ in the forearm, then cascaded down into each interlocked finger plate. Whilst it was difficult not to get the paint in between each of the solid parts— doing so ran the risk of destroying the high strung mechanics— you managed just fine and were left with a design which made a serious first impression on Ezra. 

That was around a year ago, and after begging Christian for red paint to no avail —for six months— you gave up, stole his cash and bought your own. After all, he can’t disapprove of the “far too obvious” colour if he wasn’t there to stop you from buying it. 

The brush once again touches the obsidian arm gently, focusing this time on the small elbow plate. Then, you work the paint up to the shoulder cap before finishing off with the tricep muscles. 

After a while, the arm is somewhat complete with its recolour and as you triumphantly sit back to admire it, Christian stomps loudly down the concrete stairs.

He storms in through the entrance shortly after. 

You sigh, knowing you will have to pause the paint job for now; repenting for your crimes is not on the agenda so instead, small talk and a silent prayer.  

“Where’d you go—“ 

“Not right now. I have to leave. I don’t want to be late.” 

His voice, panicked and breathless, responds as you reattach your arm and stand from the sofa beside the platform stairs.

You raise an eyebrow at him, before approaching, watching as hehe rifles through each cabinet, looking increasingly stressed as the ticks by. 

“Where are you off to? You’ve started disappearing on a Friday at around this time for the past couple of weeks, where are you heading to?”

The man pauses, his hand midway through tearing open a metal drawer to one of the sterile countertops. You never want to know, nor care about where he’s been before now, so this is highly unusual to him… but something is different now. 

He disregards your question however, and resumes his rabid search. 

“It isn’t of any of your concern. I’m just meeting with a… friend, and I do not want to be late.” The man grunts, crouching down to look behind the very same countertop before turning to you. “I don’t suppose you know where the keys to the safe are?” 

You shake your head.

“Since when do we own a safe?” 

The man grimaces, evidently forgetting you didn’t know about that; it must’ve slipped his mind in the panic. He ignores your question, now pacing the room and looking under each piece of furniture with vigor.  Meanwhile an uneasy feeling rises in your stomach, pulling you back to the night before— when you were watching Catfish. 

Something hadn’t felt right after your mind happened upon the question of the bodies, and it certainly didn’t help that your choice of entertainment centred around people who lied like it was their day job. It caused suspicion to brew, whether you liked it or not. 

You stupidly began to compare Christian to the catfishers, picking up when they said or did something that reminded you of the scientist— like being vague about where they were going, where they were from— or why they couldn’t meet their ‘catfishee’ at the meeting place. The lies were all clouded, and interlocked… almost mirroring Christian when you asked him something similar.

It didn’t make you feel good. It didn’t make you feel good at all. 

Especially when you’d realised that at some point, you’d stopped caring entirely about his whereabouts, only noticing the frequency of his absence in retrospect. What if he was hiding something and you’d been oblivious all of this time? Something bad, that meant you couldn’t be free? What if he was lying about you even getting to walk free regardless; he might not have even been working on a way to do it, like he had said so many times before.

Last night you disregarded this however, instead assuming these anxieties would be solved by morning. Yet the uneasy feeling now continues to crash inside your stomach like waves to a sea wall.

You swallow.

If only to purge the irrational thoughts, you need to know where he is going tonight.

“Please tell me where you’re going. Come on, I get bored around here, and the only place you allow me to go is the local one which I have seen one thousand times before. Describe it, let me have a little imagi-“

Your voice was cut short by a fist angrily hitting the metal operating table, causing it to rattle against the ground with a tremor. Christian raises his body to stand upright, giving up on looking underneath the table for the keys. 

While the noise startles you, his temperament is nothing new. 

“G1, will you stop with the pointless questions already? Use your eyes! Can you not see that I am looking for something? Don’t you think your imbecilic questions can wait until I’m a little less preoccupied?” 

His tone carves through you like glass shards to a cloth sheet, tearing you up almost instantly; Even though his temperament isn’t new, it doesn’t mean that his venomous words have any less effect each time he spits them. 

You don’t respond, instead walking back to the sofa and throwing yourself upon it defeatedly whilst Christian rushes off in a grumble, heading inside of the kitchen. 

The uneasy feeling, now worse, is beginning to evolve into simmering anger. 

Why won’t he tell me where he’s going? What the fuck has he got to hide? Anything I ask, it always feels like secrets… and lies.

The skin of your lips is torn as you nervously chew them, your mind going a million miles per second whilst the phone in your back pocket begins to tug at you. You shift, grasping it, and pull it out to face you. The thought almost seems illegal to have, yet you let it lie. If Christian isn’t going to admit to it, you are going to have to find out what he’s up to by yourself. Besides, if he gets pissy at you for following him or going where you’re not supposed to? 

It's his own fault for not being truthful. 

Maybe it would be a wake-up call. I mean, surely it can’t be that bad. Maybe he’s dating again, or going to a… secret, scientist meeting? He won’t be committing mass murder. He won’t be doing anything that is… seriously bad. Right?

Your anxiety cements your idea in place whether you want it to or not; you need to know. If you don’t find out, these worries will spiral and soon enough he’ll be a supervillain in your mind, no matter the lack of proof. 

You pull up the messaging app, sending a text to Ezra followed by…four more. He needs to reply, and fast. 

(Y/N), 5:35 PM : Ezra, meet me at the edge of the wooded area, the one where I live, there’s a main road that our driveway road thing leads on to. You know what I mean.  Park a little further down from where the driveway leads out. I’ll come to you. ASAP Btw.

(Y/N), 5:35 PM : Ezra

(Y/N), 5:35 PM : EZRA.

(Y/N), 5:35 PM : OI

(Y/N), 5:35 PM : urgent

Ezra, 5:36 PM : stfu for a minute fgs. Y?

(Y/N), 5:36 PM : I just need a lift. You owe me for last night. I need to follow Christian. Don’t ask please just trust me

Ezra, 5:37 PM : As u wish, ur highness. leaving now. 

The sounds from the kitchen are becoming significantly louder as you slide the phone into your back pocket. 

You still have time. 

Standing, you rush over to the coat hook beside the door, grabbing your black hoodie and yanking it on. The cap comes next, followed by the face mask. You speak, yet it comes out slightly muffled. 

“Heading to the village, I’ll be back soon, I’m just bored.” 

Christian grumbles in response from the kitchen, clearly being able to tell you took the right precautions before leaving from your muffled voice. 

You take it as permission, and exit— walking calmly up each step until you walk out of the door at the top of the stairs. As soon as the metal creaks closed, your combat boots planted heavy on the dirt, you take off into a full blown sprint. 

⟡ ݁₊ .

It doesn’t take long before you reach Ezra.

Perching on the seat of his most prized possession— a Kawasaki motorbike— the man looks through his phone, evidently ignorant to the happenings around him. His skin, that of a deep sepia, reflects and glistens in the sun’s summer rays as he turns to face you, putting away his phone, now noticing your arrival. Ezra’s lips curl up into a smile, one that only causes a smile in return. 

“Need some water?” 

Your face, red, and panting, nods in agreement as he chuckles and opens the back compartment of the bike. He fumbles around for a moment before retrieving a lukewarm bottle, handing it back to you— the specs of gold ink decorating his fingertips catching your eye as he does. 

“New art piece?” You ask, taking a sip of the uncomfortably warm water, mentally commenting on the fact that while he spoke like a man in person, he always acted like a 12-year-old over text.  His brown eyes, laced with specs of amber, almost glow at the mention of his new artwork. 

“Yeah. Thought I’d try some gold ink, went pretty well.” 

Ezra smiles again, running his large hand over his cornrows— the red highlights intermingling with the black like ribbons around a maypole. He turns, grabbing the motorcycle helmet propped against the dash, throwing it to you— grinning as you fumble to catch it. A deep hum of laughter radiates from the man as he grasps his own helmet, putting it on while he takes a seat on the bike. 

”Don’t you got like… a time limit?”

 Shit, he’s right.

You quickly nod, shoving the helmet over your head and climbing on to the bike behind Ezra— just in time too— as not even a moment later, Christian’s car exits the woodland driveway. 

“Stay two cars behind him, but follow him.” 

He hums in response, starting up the bike with a roar after the white jalopy target is a safe enough distance away. Then, as you throw your arms around his defined abdomen, Ezra pulls out into the road. 

⟡ ݁₊ .

After 20 minutes, the car makes a sharp turn into a parking lot. In order to clear suspicion, Ezra drives past it entirely, then waits a moment before turning around and parking on the road alongside— completely out of view. 

The bike shuts off, leaving the both of you anxious and unnerved; why is Christian going into the parking lot of— what seems to be— an abandoned warehouse, at 6:30 PM?

Ezra uncomfortably shifts and turns to you, flipping up his visor. 

“Somethin’ feels off. You ain’t going in there, right?” 

Thinking for a moment, you purse your lips, raising a hand to flip up your own visor. 

“I have to. I’ve got to know what he’s up to. I can tell he’s hiding something, and this just gives me more questions. Now I have to know it’s… not something awful.” 

Ezra nods, almost irritated, yet understanding. He sucks his teeth, the response common when the two of you are together. 

“Yeah but what if it ain’t safe in there? Ion’ want you to go in, and I ain’t comin’ in with you. So you ain’t goin’ in. Shit looks shady, and I don’t wanna be fuckin’ shot. Ask him about the warehouse when he gets back.” 

You shake your head and get off the bike, placing your helmet on the seat behind him. 

“I'm sorry Ezra, I don’t have time for this. I don’t want you to come anyway, you’re right, it might be dangerous and If it is, I need a getaway driver. So, forgive me after?”  

You can hear the man sigh defeatedly as you leave, clearly agitated and questioning whether or not to follow you. He eventually gives up, throwing his hands into the air angrily whispering to himself. 

“Oh, what the fuck. (Y/N), I swear to god. Just don’t fuckin’ die, alright?” 

⟡ ݁₊ .

The large warehouse is falling apart at the hinges; the wooden door barely stands upright, the windows are faded, cracked and littered with bug corpses. 

After a moment of deliberation, you quietly open the entrance door and silently slip inside, taking a brief look around the room before you crouch behind the nearest dilapidated crate.

This used to be the smaller room— what once was the office or foyer, you imagine— complete with rusting beams and rats running along each one. 

The voices meet your ears not a moment later, coming from the direction of a large shattered window looking out onto the actual warehouse area. 

You deliberate for a moment more, but after realising nothing can be heard from this distance, you crouch walk to the crate nearest the window— still making sure to keep your form entirely hidden, but allowing yourself one eye out for vision.  

“I do understand you still need somewhere to take them, but I am informing you that I have no use for them anymore. I am moving on”

Your eyes dart to the two figures, standing quite a distance away from the hiding spot. Christian is there alright, and in conversation with another man— one you do not recognise. Both men stand with their backs turned, the unfamiliar one sporting a tan jacket, his dark brown hair somewhat flattened by an elastic strap that seems to travel the width of his head. 

Why does he..?

You shrug off the thought, instead focusing on their words once more. 

“I don’t think you understand. Do you think I can what, just take it back?” 

The unknown man’s voice is muffled as it echoes throughout the empty warehouse. He shifts in place for a moment, then brings his arms to his chest. Christian deliberates for a small while, placing his right hand into his pocket and fiddling with the contents. 

You take a closer look at what he has his hands around. 

Is that the outline of a gun?

Your stomach drops. 

You didn’t know he owned one, in fact he made a point stating he did not own one when you asked him previously. 

But it must be what he wanted from the safe. 

“Fine, fine. I will take this one, yet I will not go through the usual staggering process. As you expected, (Y/N) is becoming increasingly suspicious, which is another reason as to why I should not take any more right now.” He sighs. “However, to combat that, what do you think of the end date being moved to today?” 

The other man hums in agreement, and your spit turns to sand as Christian continues. 

“My new business partner and I have figured out a way to go legitimate. The tests completed on the carcasses have proved successful. The G1 Specimen will be transported into your care, and to do with as you see fit. G2 will be created, and the failure will be hidden. Then, the transaction is over, completed as set. (Y/N), In return for these.” 

The information causes your body to fall from its crouched position, a small wooden knock resounding out from your hiding place as your metallic arm taps the crate accidentally. 

Ice floods throughout your entire body, rooting you to the ground, unable to move. 

Christian doesn’t seem to notice the sound, thankfully; still wrapped up in his monologue of sorts. However, the other man turns his head to the side, and you hold your breath as an earlier question is answered. 

He’s wearing a mask. That’s what the head-strap is for. 

The mask, completely white, covers his face entirely— save for black details around the lips and the eyes— similar to various Venetian masks you’ve seen before now. 

You stare, wide eyed, and stiff. 

With the masked man rotated slightly, it allows you a window to finally see what— or rather, who— they have been referring to is.

The… ‘object’.

The thing that Christian was so against taking back with him, before the change in agreement.

A corpse.

It is a corpse, lying almost mangled on the ground. 

One that, if it was brought home—

you would’ve named. 

How pathetic and bitter that all seems now. 

You were naming your own bargaining chips. 

The man in the mask turns his head the other way once more, and as the oxygen rushes its way back into your lungs— every ounce of strength is needed not to gasp for it. 

He didn’t notice me.

The shock begins to settle, only slightly, as you realise that you need to get out of here. 

You need to leave, run— anything to get away from this place, this town, them. 

Christian lied. 

And it was much, much worse than you could ever have imagined. 

You slowly raise to a crouched position once more, as both of the men say their unenthused goodbyes. 

Footsteps follow. 

You creep over to the exit. 

Almost there.

A voice, which you now know to belong to the masked man, calls out to Christian. 

“By the way. You really should be more careful… or get better at knowing when you’re being followed. Your choice which.”

Air, no longer an option for you, is ripped away again instantly.

Your heart pounds in your chest. 

You panic, opening the front door with a little too much urgency, as it slams harshly against the rotting walls. 

You crash outside, wincing at the summer rays which are beginning to creep below the horizon line, and grimace.

A singular sentence can be heard before the door ricochet’s closed. 

”… who was it?”

⟡ ݁₊ .

Gunning it into the trees is the best option.

You take a right out of the door, crouch running underneath the windowsill to make it to the other side of the building. Once you reach it, you escape into the trees, sprinting until the road Ezra is parked alongside comes into view. This is shortly followed by Ezra himself— who is pacing his bike in circles, his helmet still equipped, ready to make haste at any given moment. 

You reach him in a flurry. 

“Holy fuck, go, go, go, now!  Don’t go back home, go the opposite way. Fuck! Shit, Fuck, fuck.”

You ram the helmet on, jumping on to the back of the bike whilst Ezra quickly clambers on to the front, too panicked by your demeanor to even question what you said.

He revs up the engine, before roaring off in the opposite direction to the way you arrived. 

“What the fuck happened, (Y/N)?” 

His voice, stricken with worry, can be heard through the in-ear radio installed in the helmets. 

His fingers flex around the bike handles. 

“I— I can’t tell you here. We just need to go, now. You need to get me away, please I just—”

He interrupts you. 

”What did I fuckin’ say. What did I say? You shouldn’t have gone in there, I said that it was dangerous, and something fuckin’ happened in there didn’t it?”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it. 

“Ezra, no, if–if I didn’t go in there, I would’ve been…” You trail off, but regain the courage to continue.

“Christian wants to have me fucking kidnapped. He has a deal with this guy. Bodies to work on, eventually in return for me, or something. The contract ends tonight. Yes, something happened, but If I didn’t go in, I would’ve…” 

Your words fade out for good this time, and you rest your head on Ezra’s back, squeezing him tightly.

Ezra’s words complete your own, his voice laced with an undertone of a quiet rage. 

“You would’ve been gone by morning.” 

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Next chapter: Thanks for reading! <3 𓆏 Comments/reblogs appreciated! 𓆏

[briefinfluencernacho]

"The Invocation of the Body's Energy"

Let thy spirit now descend into the sanctuary of thy flesh, and behold, feel the currents of vitality beneath thee, from the ground to the heavens. Begin at the soles of thy feet, where the ancient energies of the earth flow inwards, rising through thee. Let thy awareness rise, to the very tip of thy toes—feel them, each a vessel of power, the subtle hum of life vibrating through them.

Now, ascend to the soles, the very foundation of thy being, and let the force emanate. Feel the sacred rhythm there, moving upward through thy ankles, ever upward. With thy mind’s eye, trace the sacred path that winds 'round thy calves, enshrouding them, until the energies coalesce and build toward thy knees. Feel the subtle hair upon them, the delicate touch of life itself.

Ascend still, further, to thy thighs, left and right. Circle 'round them, perceiving the divine muscle, the sacred vessel of strength. Touch, too, the groin���there is the seat of primal energy, of life and death, spiraling in cycles older than the stars. Let thy focus drift to the back, where muscle and sinew weave the sacred pattern. Feel the blood coursing within, the power it gives.

Still thou ascend, now to thy belly, the very core of thy being. Know the great power of thy stomach, thy belly button a sacred symbol of creation itself. Feel the sides, and trace the energy 'round thy back. Let thy spine become a pillar of light, a channel for all that is. With every movement, feel the release and the rise of this divine current.

Now, feel the energy of thy shoulders, both left and right, ever spiraling. Circle 'round the scapulae, for they are thine wings, bearing the weight of thy soul. Feel the chest—left and right, divine mirrors reflecting the balance of thy nature. Let thy awareness descend with care into the arms.

Begin with thy right arm, feel the muscles, their strength and grace as they channel energy through thee. Down to thy bicep, the tricep, the elbow—delve into the very heart of the flesh. Proceed down to the forearm, tracing each line of it, each hair, the breath of air that passes over it. Travel to thy hand—each finger a sigil of divine intention. Begin with the thumb, tracing it from base to tip, the pulse of life through each digit. Move, then, to the pointer, the middle, the fourth, and the pinky—each a focal point, a beacon of energy and divine purpose.

Do not falter as thou move to the left arm. Feel, as before, the divine spiral through muscle and bone, the bicep, the tricep. Continue, as before, to the elbow and the forearm, spiraling around each part. Let thy hand now be as an altar, a sacred temple—forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, and pinky, each an altar unto itself.

Now, feel the energy stir within thy neck, the subtle hum of life that vibrates there. Let the air pass across thy skin like the breath of the gods. Know that the neck is the gateway, the sacred threshold between heaven and earth, spirit and flesh.

Proceed now to thy face, where the divine breath stirs. Feel the pulse within thy cheeks, the jawline, the lips—each part a sacred offering to the universe. Let thy attention move to thy nose, the bridge of it, the air that passes in and out. Feel the rhythm, the ebb and flow, as it carries the essence of life itself.

And now, ascend to thy temples, to the ears, those sacred vessels which receive the whispers of the unseen. Behind the ears, the divine energy pools, circling with grace. Let thy mind’s eye trace these sacred curves and the silence of the heavens that resides there.

At last, let thy awareness center upon the crown of thy head—the Third Eye, the seat of enlightenment. Feel the gentle awakening within thee. Here lies the seat of divinity, the light of all knowledge, shining bright as the sun. Focus all your being upon this sacred center, as though it were the only part of your body that breathes, that lives. Feel the warmth, the radiance. In this moment, you are the vessel of all energy, the center of the universe.

Thus, all the energies of the cosmos move through thee, filling thee with light, power, and purpose.

[bigmusclenm]

Sweet Gains - Part 5

[Story Collection] | [Part 4] [●] [Part 6🔵]

Liam ran as fast as he could, eager to arrive at his apartment and see Aiden’s enormous body again. As he quietly and carefully unlocked the door to his apartment, making sure not to bother his neighbors, he could barely contain his excitement about his newly found connection with Aiden.

Liam wondered what all the boxes of sweets would do to an already massive Aiden. He was still confused about the words of the bakery’s owner. But his lust-guided mind only wanted to see Aiden gain size limitlessly.

However, as he crossed through the living room and saw the destroyed couch, Liam couldn’t shake the thought that he was taking Aiden’s sweet gains way too far, probably fueling an obsession. He couldn’t stop wondering if reaching inhuman proportions was healthy for Aiden, or maybe he risked the big guy’s life. Liam stopped by the couch, pondering his options for a few seconds. But as he remembered Aiden’s body growing beneath him, his dick throbbed in his pants, finally deciding to keep going with the transformation.

Liam continued his way to his bedroom with a smile, glancing down at the boxes of sweets. He thought about the possible results of what lay ahead for him and Aiden. He thought about the challenges they would face. But his mind focused on the beautiful specimen of a man that awaited him in the bedroom, and the fears disappeared.

As Liam reached the bedroom door, he paused, taking a moment to prepare for what lay ahead. Then, pushing the door open, Liam’s breath caught in his throat as he beheld the sight before him. Aiden, seemingly asleep in Liam’s bed, or what used to be his bed, was a muscular colossus, surpassing human proportions by far. Staying still, Liam smiled and felt his dick getting painfully hard in his pants. It hadn’t been able to get soft since the moment Aiden arrived at his apartment the night before, but observing the magnificent muscle god peacefully sleeping in his bed made his dick get harder than ever.

Liam couldn’t help but gasp in awe at the sheer magnitude of Aiden’s body. Each muscle group on Aiden’s enormous body seemed to demand attention, sculpted to perfection and stretched to their limits by the effects of the special sweets. Aiden’s shoulders were about ten feet across, claiming dominion over the room since they almost filled its width. The enormous deltoids looked like wrecking balls ready to destroy entire buildings. The rounded contours of his shoulders were unbelievably pronounced, rippling with power and strength.

Liam marveled at Aiden’s pecs size and shape, showcasing a density that defied Liam’s knowledge about anatomy. Liam’s eyes traced the contours of Aiden’s chest, which rose and fell with each steady breath, obscuring any view beyond their enormous size. They looked like twin shields of muscle, so thick and voluminous that they obscured Aiden’s view of anything beyond them. Even among his giant body, Aiden’s pecs were enormous, and huge nipples adorned them to perfection. Liam couldn’t even imagine how heavy Aiden’s pecs could be. But he knew each one was far heavier than any world-class bodybuilder.

Even though Aiden’s pecs drew most of Liam’s attention, he couldn’t ignore the tree-trunk-like upper arms. The massive biceps were like boulders, each far larger than a beach ball, with veins pulsing across them, adding layers of power to his arm muscles. His triceps were even bigger, making Liam’s entire frame look broader and forcing his elbows to push against the walls. His forearms looked so thick and densely muscled that they appeared capable of crushing steel.

Aiden’s perfectly chiseled abs looked like a series of cobblestones, perfectly defined and separated by deep grooves, with perfectly symmetrical obliques framing them and adding appeal to his midsection. As Liam approached Aiden, he managed to see some muscles on Aiden’s body that he couldn’t see from the door.

Behind Aiden’s enormous pecs, his handsome face looked hot and angelic, framed by his huge traps that rose like mountain peaks. They perfectly matched Aiden’s massive shoulders and made him look even more imposing. The trapezius muscles were so thick and dense that they seemed to merge with the surrounding muscles, creating a seamless wall of power. Also, Aiden’s lats were like a pair of enormous wings, spanning his back with an impressive width that seemed to fill the space from one side of the room to the other.

As Liam stood in awe before Aiden’s colossal frame, his gaze traveled downward, taking in the sheer magnitude of the lower body. Each muscle bulged unbelievably thick. He marveled at the size and definition of Aiden’s quadriceps, which looked like mountains adorning the thickest thighs he had ever seen. Each muscle stood out prominently, making Liam feel tiny and skinny, which wasn’t far from reality considering Aiden’s size.

Looking at Aiden’s hips, even from the front, he could see the pronounced curve of a massive ass. Liam had the honor to take a look at Aiden’s enormous ass before he collapsed on the bed the night before, and it had grown large since that moment. Only thinking about the giant slabs of muscle stacked on Aiden’s backside made Liam drool. Even in this position, it was evident Aiden’s butt was enormous, and Liam couldn’t help but desire to fuck him again.

Thinking about Aiden’s ass made Liam remember the strange swelling on Aiden’s balls when cum entered his body, so he turned his attention toward Aiden’s sofa-sized balls and the massive python resting on top of them. Aiden’s balls also made Liam feel tiny in comparison, not by comparing his balls to Aiden’s but by comparing his entire body with one of Aiden’s balls. The same happened when Liam compared his whole 6’1” regularly built body to Aiden’s 6-foot-long, extremely thick, soft dick.

Suddenly, Aiden stirred, his eyes fluttering open, and he immediately smiled at Liam. “Hey, little man,” Aiden said with a deep and vibrant voice. “You’re back. I was taking a small nap. Did you bring more of those delicious sweets?”

Liam smiled and placed the several boxes of desserts on a desk near his bed. He took a few seconds to ponder if it was a good idea to help Aiden grow even bigger. But before even thinking of his actions, Liam started taking his clothes off to climb up Aiden’s body and have access to the big guy’s hungry mouth. Liam knew he would have to deal with the consequences of his actions, but he only cared about seeing Aiden outgrow the building.

“Yes. I brought more, and I’m sure you’ll love them. I bought their entire stock. We’ll have so much fun,” Liam said, taking his underwear off and taking the boxes in hand to bring them to Aiden’s pecs. “But I really need to know if this is what you want. Do you really want to get bigger? The man from the bakery shop said these desserts shouldn’t turn you into a hulk, and look at you. You’re bigger than The Hulk,” Liam said as he got on top of Aiden’s balls and started slowly moving to his pecs.

“I want more. I demand more. I want to be the biggest, the strongest,” Aiden said, grinning. “You started it. You made me addicted to growing. Are you regretting it?”

“No, no… I just needed to be sure,” Liam replied, sitting comfortably on top of Aiden’s pecs with the boxes of desserts by his side.

Sitting atop the massive pecs, Liam had Aiden’s handsome face right before him, and the big guy was ready to eat everything Liam had brought for him. Liam opened the first box and smiled as he observed its contents.

“I’m starving, please. Feed me those sweets,” Aiden demanded.

“I will. Let me think about where I should start. I think you’re already familiar with this: the Brawny-Bicep Bites,” Liam said as he picked up one of the bites and held it up to Aiden’s waiting mouth. “Open wide, Aiden. Let’s get those biceps even bigger.”

Without hesitation, Aiden devoured the delicious brownie bite and groaned with delight. As Aiden tasted it, Liam popped another into the big guy’s mouth, instantly triggering the growth. Aiden felt a tingling spreading through his arms, making him feel powerful. The thick veins across his muscular arms thickened as blood expanded the muscles. Aiden felt like his arms had the best pump ever, but he knew it was different; they were swelling larger and more defined with each passing moment. It wasn’t only the size of the muscles; the density was increasing, making it difficult for Aiden to bend his monolithic arms.

“Next, we have these cupcakes that I think are for quads,” Liam said, carefully feeding the cupcake to an eager Aiden. As Liam brought up more cupcakes, Aiden’s quads seemed to expand with each bite, becoming thicker and more powerful. Liam could hardly believe his eyes as Aiden’s quads expanded so quickly and drastically that his entire thigh thickened, forcing his legs to spread wider to accommodate their newly gained mass.

Liam smiled while Aiden chewed and swallowed. He looked around for a few seconds and noticed they were running out of space for Aiden to grow. His height had remained the same, but the rest of his body had grown almost as big as the whole room.

“Maybe we should think about a plan to get you somewhere else. You’ll outgrow this room very soon,” Liam said quietly, and Aiden’s eyes shined brightly at the thought of outgrowing the room.

“I own a cabin, huge place, enormous land, no neighbors. You’d love the place,” Aiden said as he swallowed the last bite of the cupcake. “I could grow without limits there,” Aiden added, opening his mouth to show Liam he was ready for more.

“Sounds cool, but... how will I take you there?” Liam said as he filled Aiden’s mouth with a slice of apple pie, which targeted the abdominal muscles if Liam remembered correctly. “Also, you meant it when you said you wanted to get even bigger?” Liam asked as he looked back to see Aiden’s abs getting more defined.

Each muscle bulged so prominently that Liam knew the skin getting between them would never see the light again. The definition was impressive, but even then, his skin had a smooth appearance, inviting Liam to reach back and rub Aiden’s abs. He gasped in awe as he felt the muscles were as hard as indestructible diamonds.

As Aiden ate the last slice of apple pie, Liam wasted no time and fed Aiden a portion of strawberry tart. Immediately, his triceps expanded and pushed against the room’s walls, making them crack and increasing Liam’s fear that Aiden would outgrow the room. It was a whole different feeling for Aiden, who became aroused as he felt his body filling up the room. Aiden’s dick stirred to life and started hardening.

Liam watched in awe as the massive dick grew to 7 feet long and continued getting bigger. It was thicker than Liam’s body, and as the huge head hit the roof, Aiden groaned in pleasure. It was evident Aiden’s dick was very sensitive, and the harder it became, the more aroused he seemed to get. Liam felt tiny compared to the 8-foot-long enormous dick curved toward Aiden’s head and forming an arc above Liam.

“Show me what else you got for me. I’m breaking out of this room very soon!” Aiden said it with a commanding voice.

Bite after bite, Liam filled Aiden with sweets, pastries, and desserts. The already massive body expanded with each bite, but Liam noticed the growth slowed down. He wondered if Aiden had finally reached his body’s limits. However, the big man was insatiable, and Liam was happy to continue the unstoppable feeding.

By the time only one box was left several hours later, Aiden’s body was cramped between the walls of the room, and he had lost most of his mobility. His muscles bulged and pushed so much against each other that he couldn’t bend his arms, turn his head, or bend his legs due to the gigantic proportions of his muscles. And even then, Aiden wanted more.

“Only one box is left. I think you haven’t eaten these before, so I’m not sure what these donuts do,” Liam said, opening the box and observing two dozen filled donuts. “Are you sure you want them?”

Aiden didn’t respond and only opened his mouth for Liam to feed him the donuts. The dough was fluffy, with a creamy center that made Aiden groan. “More! So delicious,” Aiden said, and Liam fed him all the donuts in only a few minutes. Both guys waited for the effects to kick in, but nothing seemed to change, even after Aiden ate the last donut.

“Weird. Nothing happened,” Liam said, cleaning some cream from Aiden’s lips. “I guess your body has reached its limit?” Liam added, making Aiden groan angrily.

“I just need more sweets. Those donuts weren’t special. Maybe that man made a mistake. You think you could go get me more?” Aiden said, looking at Liam with puppy eyes.

“I think we have to wait until tomorrow. I literally bought everything the bakery shop had to make you grow,” Liam said as he caressed Aiden’s handsome face.

“Is this what you wanted when you started giving me those sweets?” Aiden asked, smiling at Liam.

Looking into Aiden’s eyes, Liam realized that this was what he exactly wanted from the beginning, so after a few seconds of hesitation, he leaned forward and kissed Aiden’s lips passionately. Part of Liam was worried about Aiden’s reaction, but the big guy seemed to enjoy it.

After what felt like an eternity, Liam broke the kiss and stared at Aiden’s face, both panting heavily. “I loved how that felt. I enjoyed the kisses last night, and I’m loving this one,” Aiden said, and Liam restarted their making out.

Suddenly, Aiden started groaning, and his breath started getting shallower. Liam didn’t pay much attention to it until he felt Aiden’s pecs beneath his body bulge and expand. Liam broke the kiss and immediately felt an enormous sticky glob of pre-cum falling upon him. He looked up and saw another glob of pre-cum coming out of Aiden’s dick slit and falling upon him again. The cum was thick, and the scent was powerful. And as Liam tried to clean his eyes to have a better look at what was happening, Aiden started panting and moaning louder than ever.

“Something’s happening. My pecs! There’s so much pressure, and my balls are... Fuck!” Aiden said as his dick shot more pre, and his pecs bulged outward.

Liam couldn’t see much due to the enormous amount of cum covering his eyes and entire body. But he managed to step off Aiden’s pecs and saw them ballooning up like blimps inflating with air. However, it was evident that there was something else. Then, he noticed that Aiden’s balls almost doubled in size in a few seconds, and the bigger they got, the stronger the flow of pre leaking out of his dick became.

Then, Liam noticed something else. Aiden’s nipples expanded to match his gigantic pecs’ proportions. They looked engorged, and even though cum covered them, he knew something was happening. Liam approached Aiden’s pecs and reached forward to touch them. As his hand came into contact with the massive nipple, Aiden moaned loudly, and his chest shook violently. Immediately, a strong river of white liquid started coming out of Aiden’s pecs and mixed with the pre that coated the entire room.

“What the fuck is that?” Liam said, freaking out as he saw his surroundings turning white due to the pre and the milk that Aiden’s body was shooting without control. Liam didn’t know what to do, and as he panicked, he saw Aiden’s balls and pecs expanding even more, and the pre and milk flow grew stronger. Aiden hadn’t outgrown the room. But he was flooding it in only a few seconds.

****

“How are you feeling?” Chris said on the phone as he turned off the Big Boy’s Bakery sign. He usually closed late, but the sales were so great that he decided to take the rest of the day off. “Well, I’ll be there in about... half an hour. I have to clean some dishes here, and then I head home. Do you want me to bring anything special? Any cravings?” Chris added and chuckled. “I know, extra ranch. Always extra ranch. I’ll see you in a while. I love you.”

Chris closed the call, and before he could slide his phone into his pocket, a call from an unidentified number entered. After a few seconds of hesitation, he answered and immediately heard heavy breaths and what seemed to be moans at the back.

“Hey! Chris! I-I need your help; you gave me your card just in case I needed anything,” the voice said, leaving Chris confused for a few seconds.

“Oh. Liam? Yeah, what is it? Are you okay?” Chris said this as he heard loud noises on the other side of the call.

“No, I mean, yeah, but I’m not sure for how long. I don’t know what’s happening! Something’s wrong. He’s bursting and overflowing! Fuck!” Liam shouted, leaving Chris worried.

“Where are you? What’s happening? I don’t understand what you’re talking about,” Chris said, rushing to close everything and go help the evidently scared Liam.

Once Liam gave him the address, Chris ensured everything was fine and left the bakery shop. He had no idea what was happening, but he knew it had something to do with the enormous order Liam had bought earlier that day.

“I hope it’s not what I think it is. I really wanted to go home, but…” Chris sighed as he climbed into his car. “Finding these guys who go beyond our expectations is always fun,” Chris added, grinning.

...

[freeonlineworkouts]

Arm Workouts for Women

Arm workouts for women are a fantastic way to build strength, tone muscles, and improve overall fitness. Whether you're using weights, resistance bands, or just your body weight, these exercises can help you achieve lean, defined arms. Below is a comprehensive arm workout plan designed specifically for women, targeting the biceps, triceps, shoulders, and forearms.

Warm-Up (5-10 minutes)

Start with dynamic stretches or light cardio to get your blood flowing. Examples include arm circles, jumping jacks, or a brisk walk.

Arm Workout Plan

1. Bodyweight Exercises (No Equipment Needed)

Push-Ups

Target: Triceps, chest, and shoulders.

How to Do It:

Start in a high plank position with your hands slightly wider than shoulder-width apart.

Lower your body until your chest nearly touches the ground, then push back up.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 8-12 reps.

Tricep Dips (Using a Chair or Bench)

Target: Triceps.

How to Do It:

Sit on the edge of a chair or bench, place your hands on the edge, and slide your hips off.

Lower your body by bending your elbows, then push back up.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

Plank to Push-Up

Target: Arms, shoulders, and core.

How to Do It:

Start in a forearm plank, then push up to a high plank one arm at a time.

Alternate arms for 30-60 seconds.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 30-60 seconds.

2. Dumbbell Exercises (With Weights)

Bicep Curls

Target: Biceps.

How to Do It:

Hold a dumbbell in each hand, palms facing forward.

Curl the weights toward your shoulders, then slowly lower them.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

Tricep Kickbacks

Target: Triceps.

How to Do It:

Hold a dumbbell in each hand, hinge at the hips, and keep your elbows close to your sides.

Extend your arms straight back, squeezing your triceps, then return to the starting position.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

Shoulder Press

Target: Shoulders and triceps.

How to Do It:

Sit or stand with a dumbbell in each hand at shoulder height, palms facing forward.

Press the weights overhead until your arms are fully extended.

Slowly lower the weights back to shoulder height.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

Lateral Raises

Target: Shoulders.

How to Do It:

Stand with a dumbbell in each hand, palms facing inward.

Raise your arms out to the sides until they are at shoulder height.

Slowly lower the weights back to the starting position.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

3. Resistance Band Exercises

Bicep Curls with Resistance Band

Target: Biceps.

How to Do It:

Stand on the center of a resistance band, holding the handles with palms facing forward.

Curl your hands toward your shoulders, then slowly lower them.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

Overhead Tricep Extension with Resistance Band

Target: Triceps.

How to Do It:

Hold the resistance band overhead with both hands, one hand holding the band and the other holding the handle.

Lower the band behind your head by bending your elbows, then extend your arms back up.

Reps/Sets: 3 sets of 10-12 reps.

4. Optional Finisher (Burnout Set)

Arm Circles:

Extend your arms out to the sides and make small circles for 30 seconds forward and 30 seconds backward.

Reps/Sets: 2-3 rounds.

Cool Down and Stretch (5-10 minutes)

Stretch your arms, shoulders, and chest to improve flexibility and reduce muscle soreness. Examples include:

Tricep Stretch: Reach one arm overhead and bend the elbow, gently pulling it with the other hand.

Bicep Stretch: Extend your arm behind you with your palm facing up.

Shoulder Stretch: Bring one arm across your chest and hold it with the other hand.

Tips for Success

Start Light: Use lighter weights or resistance to focus on proper form, then gradually increase as you get stronger.

Control Your Movements: Avoid swinging or using momentum; focus on slow, controlled movements.

Rest Between Sets: Take 30-60 seconds of rest between sets to recover.

Consistency: Aim to do this workout 2-3 times per week for best results.

Pair with Cardio and Full-Body Workouts: Incorporate cardio and strength training for other muscle groups to achieve a balanced fitness routine.

This arm workout is perfect for women looking to tone and strengthen their arms while improving overall fitness. Remember, consistency and proper nutrition are key to seeing results!

[nanabrainrot]

V. Slick Skin [Miguel O’Hara]

Day 5: Sweat

Warnings! Sweat licking, Miguel is mean and reader is a sore loser, no PIV this time he’s just really weird, mild ticklihg kink

──────────────────────

You can’t seem to fucking win. His stupid face all twisted up with joy as he sat next to you, backs flat on the brick wall and bodies slick with sweat. Your baggy tee sticking to your chest with wet stains and the mat moist with the outline of your prior struggle against Miguel.

Week three of training was a failure. You lost bet after bet to him, treading closer to a gross territory that was making your stomach churn. The understanding of this week was that if you lost, he’d get to lick you where he wanted. Okay, you fucking guessed.

The looming confidence that you’d surely win dissipated the further he pushed you into the mat, your body folding uncomfortably and contorting under the mass of his muscles. Then you’d tap out. Rinse snd repeat.

By the end of round three, you partially surmised he’d try to tongue fuck your loins and you wouldn’t complain if it were the case: Miguel was easily one of the most handsome men you’d met and you were never truly opposed to casual encounters. Pleasure was meant to be shared.

This? This was weird.

His tongue is long, flat, licking strips up your arm where he sat next to you. He was content with your arm, he said, settling lower to start sucking at your wet fingers that were clammy, then the wrists. The forearms, formerly glistening with sweat, started to glisten with spit. The crevice of your elbow, he spent some time sucking at with groans. The tricep and bicep received the least attention.

You were ticklish at the armpit. This was the current dilemma.

“Pff… hehe… ah, you done yet…?” you choked, struggling to hold back a laugh as his tongue lapped messily at your armpit. You forgot deodorant in your rush, but he seemed uninterested in anything but the taste as he left lapping like a dog at its bowl of water.

Schlap.

“Pff, Miguel! Finish up, please!” you shrieked as you squirmed, a forced laugh clogging your throat. Schlaapp.

His tongue leaves your armpit only after having licked it clean. Your arm glazed in his spit as if you’d had an encounter with a mouthy mastiff. Tears welled as you struggled to catch your breath from holding a laugh back.

He looks with pupils blown wide, dick print crystal clear in his gray sweatpants.

Your boss is fucking weird.

[seiwas]

sel!!! hiii!!!! how are you doing!!

idk if you already got iwa for the ask game/if you’re still doing it, but if you haven’t, pls gush abt him and what he would wear <333

if u have already gotten iwa…. i have a question for u two… what do you guys do to end the day and wind down!

anyways i hope everything’s going well for you and you’re having a great day!!

sav helllloo!!!! i'm doing great 🥺 how are you!!! i hope this weekend is great for you!! and that you're having a wonderful time!! with lots of rest too!!

thank you for joining this lil game of mine, and for sending iwa too omg no one's asked him yet!! (and with good reason, i think everyone's looking out for my sanity lmAO JK HAFBASB)

now. okay. i will obviously say hajime looks good in all of it because i am so deeply madly truly in love with him but i'll have to say that i rank a white shirt + blue jeans on hajime last. he looks built in it, don't get me wrong, but it just isn't his element, y'know? the denim hugs his ass and thighs just right, years of hard earned muscle supporting each curve. the white shirt puffs out slightly because of his chest, sleeves almost ripping because of his biceps. it's a casual outfit he doesn't pick often simply because he isn't really a fan of denim (no stretch, or something)—and hajime looks best when he feels best, dressed in something comfortable.

it's also like that novelty thing, how seeing someone in athleisure all the time suddenly dresses up and cleans up good. hajime in a button-down + slacks is just OOOUGH. i'm having him. he slicks his hair up a bit, the spikiness of it smoothened out with some gel; it isn't flat, just a controlled type of texture that looks cleaner than how it normally is. the top button of his sleeve is popped open, because when he lifts his arms the buttons feel like they're about to give up anyway. each movement of his arms have his biceps forcing their way to rip though the fabric of his shirt—it's sinful, the way he guides your hand to rest on the crook of his elbow, fingers slightly touching the mass of muscle. you feel it press into your fingertips when he pulls your seat for you later.

those pants of his look made to fit because it hugs his ass just right, the roundness of it, the dips that flex when he walks to get more drinks. you watch him tuck his hand in his pocket while talking to a few of his colleagues, shaking his wrist to let his watch fall to the top of his wrist. you know he's antsy checking the time, because he can hardly wait to go home with you.

he's domesticated and sexy but what truly makes hajime handsome and hot to me is a simple black fitted compression shirt, short sleeves (but the long sleeves do equal damage too). it matches who he is, no fuss, comfortable, straightforward. you see him in it and see everything—the sculpt of his chest, the shoulders he's worked so damn hard on. his back has widened over the years and you see a bit of the muscles flex when he tips his head over as he drinks his protein shake. hajime doesn't have the most narrow waist but you know it's packed, dense to the touch. and his arms, they pop even more against black. the cuts of his biceps and triceps deepen with each movement he makes, the veins on his forearm practically screaming at you for them to take you however which way.

it's criminal how much you want him when he looks like that, his sweatpants hanging perfectly to accentuate the curve of his ass. when he returns back from the gym, it's started to droop down, the band of his underwear visible and the dip of his lower back deeper than should be allowed. what's truly cruel about this? hajime knows everything, is aware of every single look you send his way, how you hover around and touch him ever so slightly as if you aren't doing it on purpose. he lets you though, because, what kind of boyfriend would he be depriving you of your morning treat?

send me a character and i’ll tell you which outfit they’d look 🥵 in: white shirt + blue jeans / fitted black shirt + sweatpants / button-down + slacks

and what hajime and i do to wind down!! omg i do believe we just kinda lie in bed for a while—him going through all the stuff he has to do tomorrow and maybe a few reports and me going through instagram or something, maybe reading a book. other than that though, i think our bathroom routine is especially relaxing! we brush our teeth next to each other, do some skincare (he allows me to do it on him!!!!) and then we head to bed 🥺 hmm... a massage is not entirely out of the picture but that's just relaxing for me 🥺 i can never remove the knots in his back jhsdbfj i'm not strong enough 🥺 i'll cuddle him to sleep instead 😋

[calisthenicsgrow]

7 No-Equipment Calisthenics Moves for Home Workouts

In a world where fitness trends come and go, calisthenics remains a timeless and effective form of exercise. What sets calisthenics apart is its simplicity and accessibility – all you need is your body and a bit of space to get started. Whether you're a beginner or a seasoned athlete, calisthenics offers a wide range of exercises that can be tailored to your fitness level and goals.

In this article, we'll explore seven equipment-free calisthenics moves that you can incorporate into your home workouts. These exercises target various muscle groups, promote functional strength, and improve overall fitness without the need for expensive gym equipment. So, let's dive in and discover the power of bodyweight training.

Push-Ups

Push-ups are a classic calisthenics exercise that targets the chest, shoulders, and triceps while engaging the core and stabilizer muscles. To perform a push-up:

Start in a high plank position with hands shoulder-width apart and arms fully extended.

Lower your body by bending your elbows until your chest nearly touches the ground.

Keep your core engaged and maintain a straight line from head to heels.

Push back up to the starting position, fully extending your arms.

Push-ups can be modified to suit different fitness levels by adjusting hand placement, tempo, or performing them on your knees.

Bodyweight Squats

Bodyweight squats are an excellent lower body exercise that targets the quadriceps, hamstrings, and glutes. To perform a bodyweight squat:

Stand with feet shoulder-width apart, toes slightly turned out.

Lower your body by bending your knees and pushing your hips back, as if sitting back into a chair.

Keep your chest up, back straight, and weight in your heels.

Lower until your thighs are parallel to the ground, then push through your heels to return to the starting position.

Bodyweight squats can be intensified by adding pulses, jumping squats, or holding a squat position for an extended period.

Pull-Ups (or Inverted Rows)

Pull-ups are a challenging upper body exercise that targets the back, biceps, and shoulders. If you don't have access to a pull-up bar, you can perform inverted rows using a sturdy horizontal bar or suspension trainer. To perform a pull-up:

Grip an overhead bar with hands slightly wider than shoulder-width apart, palms facing away from you.

Hang with arms fully extended, engaging your core and keeping your body in a straight line.

Pull your body up until your chin clears the bar, then lower back down with control.

Inverted rows mimic the movement of pull-ups and offer a scalable alternative for beginners.

Planks

Planks are a fundamental core exercise that strengthens the abdominals, lower back, and stabilizer muscles. To perform a plank:

Start in a forearm plank position with elbows directly beneath your shoulders and feet hip-width apart.

Keep your body in a straight line from head to heels, engaging your core and glutes to maintain stability.

Hold this position for as long as possible while maintaining proper form and breathing rhythm.

Planks can be made more challenging by lifting one leg or arm, performing side planks, or adding dynamic movements like plank jacks.

Lunges

Lunges are a versatile lower body exercise that targets the quadriceps, hamstrings, glutes, and calves. To perform a lunge:

Start standing with feet together.

Take a step forward with one foot and lower your body until both knees are bent at a 90-degree angle.

Keep your front knee aligned with your ankle and your back knee hovering just above the ground.

Push through your front heel to return to the starting position, then repeat on the other side.

Lunges can be performed in various directions (forward, reverse, lateral) and with added weight for increased resistance.

Dips

Dips are an effective upper body exercise that targets the chest, triceps, and shoulders. To perform dips:

Find two sturdy surfaces of equal height, such as parallel bars or the edge of a chair or bench.

Grip the bars or edges with hands shoulder-width apart and arms fully extended.

Lower your body by bending your elbows until your upper arms are parallel to the ground.

Push through your palms to extend your arms and return to the starting position.

Dips can be modified by bending your knees or elevating your feet to increase or decrease the level of difficulty.

Burpees

Burpees are a full-body, high-intensity exercise that combines strength, cardio, and coordination. To perform a burpee:

Start standing with feet shoulder-width apart.

Lower into a squat position and place your hands on the ground in front of you.

Jump or step your feet back into a plank position.

Perform a push-up, then jump or step your feet back to the squat position.

Explosively jump up, reaching your arms overhead.

Land softly and immediately lower back into the squat position to begin the next repetition.

Burpees can be modified by eliminating the push-up or jump to suit different fitness levels.

Conclusion

Calisthenics offers a convenient and effective way to improve strength, endurance, and overall fitness without the need for fancy equipment or gym memberships. These seven equipment-free calisthenics moves provide a solid foundation for a full-body workout that can be done anytime, anywhere. Whether you're a beginner looking to kickstart your fitness journey or a seasoned athlete seeking a new challenge, give these exercises a try and experience the transformative power of bodyweight training. So, clear some space in your living room, lace up your sneakers, and get ready to sweat with these equipment-free calisthenics moves!

[flxchxrs]

{ cis man, he/him } ❝ when a thief kisses you, count your teeth.❞ huh, who’s keita machida? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually kaen flecher. he is a 31 year old half-blood wizard who is a clerk at the junk shop. he is a slytherin alum and the biological child of mundungus fletcher & miyake shun (non-canon). he is known for being larcenous, blinkered, and disingenuous but also unabashed, tenacious, and charming, so that must be why he always reminds me of the song take what you want by post malone and forearms lent across the bar with an order for firewhisky, nabbing the full bottle once their back is turned, the rise of cigarette smoke just before it falls away with the wind, & an old familial ring weighing heaviest on stealthy hands. i hear he is aligned with no one, so be sure to keep an eye on him.

tw: family issues, parent death, death mention, abandonment, prison

full name: kaen janus fletcher

date of birth: november 19th

star sign: scorpio

place of birth: liverpool, england

family: mundungus fletcher (father), miyake shun (mother)

sexual orientation: unlabeled, uncertain, unconstrained

religion: agnostic

tattoos: dueling rabbits on either thigh, a line from the back of his skull down to his waistband, “whatever forever” on his left shin, a very mediocre wizard on his right tricep, a double-headed rat on his left bicep, "you lose more by not trying than by trying" at the crook of his left elbow, a kintsugi tattoo along his left side, "if you grow up you'll die" above his right thigh, a snake along his right shoulder and bicep, a scorpion on the back of his left hand, and lines on his right ear.

style: hawaiian-esque patterned buttons-ups, checked trousers, dark-washed denim, black leather belts, silver chains hung from belt loops, basics often in cooled tones, a dark wool trench hand-me-downed, a multitude of rings, all black converse, corduroy shirts hung open like jackets, plain white vests, coats with a fleece trim, and tendency for anything with pockets.

forearms lent across the bar with an order for firewhisky, nabbing the full bottle once their back is turned, unopened letters cluttering a bedside drawer, discreet glances over your shoulder, fingertips ghosting across items on a shelf, a pocket gone heavy, the rise of cigarette smoke just before it falls away with the wind, a family name fives steps ahead, lips tugged tight into a smirk, ink telling stories that words won't, a black cat brushing against your leg, a rose snipped from the neighbor's garden, & an old familial ring weighing heaviest on stealthy hands

kaen was not the child of school romance or grown-up planning. he was something created from lust. mundungus fletcher and miyake shun were never supposed to be anything beyond that one night of passion... but... nevertheless, kaen entered the picture. a brief bit of hope and connection, especially given the time. they tried to make the most of it. they tried to make a family… if you could call it that.

shun was really the sole caretaker. mundungus was always off with his latest ‘get rich’ scheme. it wasn’t always illicit activities, just mostly. that and a gamble or three. a law broken more than once. a couple they were not. never close aside from that single night.

DEATH TW: just shy of starting his second year at hogwarts, shun passed suddenly. a muggle heart thing— hypertrophic cardiomyopathy— nothing attached to dark magic or an ill-intended brew. yet still sudden. unexpected. and wildly unfair. he’d been lucky enough not to have been the one to find her, thought the hurt remained all the same. kaen holds onto that sensation for one essential fact: he never got to say goodbye.

DEATH MENTION, ABANDONMENT TW, PRISON TW: and like the top-notch parent that he was, mundungus strayed further away after shun passed. didn’t always have to be the physical distance, sometimes it was like he was just clocking in as dad. picking up his hours as a fatherly figure before he could dash off again to the life he wanted. a blip on the radar. a mad dash per month not to be marked as dead-beat. because fuck if mundungus was considered dead-beat. as if he hadn't always been working at or crafting some scheme. like the one that landed him in hot water... the first time, then the again, and... somewhere along the line, mundungus had toed the line one, two steps too far. incarcerated.

PRISON TW: despite always holding the name flecher, it wasn't until mundungus got imprisoned that kaen felt like he'd won his father's attention, though he blamed the sudden thirst for a relationship on boredom. after all, how many letters had kaen sent as a kid when mundungus had gone off on one of his business trips? and how many had he gotten returned? and this quick? after receiving that first correspondence from his jailed father, kaen left everything unopened. as a result, he has a bedside drawer stuffed with unanswered, unread letters.

despite their strained relationship, kaen very clearly carries his sentiment. a gaudy, family ring given to him that second shun-less christmas. "from one fletcher to the next. it was my father’s,” mun had told him. kaen never knew if the story was real or fake, if the ring had really just been snagged off some poor unfortunate in the tube or if his dad was telling the truth. either way, it never left his hand.

all that to say the apple didn't fall far from the tree. now kaen blamed circumstance: hardly a parent at his side, the cost of living hung over-head like a dark cloud, the money always short. growing, saving, only to be gone in a snap. i mean, rent had to be paid and, well, a worker's wage wasn’t fucking cutting it. he started by stealing in stores, mostly what he needed and then what he wanted. soon he got pretty good at picking pockets. then he just sunk further in.

the sticky fingers started with that very first scholarly trip to diagon, going down the school shopping list, watching as his mum clutched her coin purse tighter and tighter with each galleon and knut slid across the counter. kaen couldn’t find it in him to ask for even a pack of caramel cobwebs extra. he stomached the want at first, but by the second passing of the shop, want took over. and, fuck, had it been easy. in a second his pocket was heavier and his need was less. in an odd way, kaen's had a hankering for caramel cobwebs ever since.

his favorite place at hogwarts had been the room of requirement. felt like heaven the first time he found it. it’s not quite the same, but the junk shop in diagon alley has a similar feel. plus, kaen has access to the merchandise. and, should people want something not for sale on the floor, all they need to do is know how to ask. what the owner doesn’t know, won’t hurt him.

very into tattoos. they’re a way for him to be vulnerable without having to be outright with it. the ink does a better job at saying his feeling than his words do.

he’s an accidental cat father. socks just kept showing up on his fire escape. night one, he figured she was just curious but by the third he said fuck it and let her inside. she’s never left since. as an all black cat, people are often confused as to her name, having expected some coloration on her paws. that is, until they learn of her hoarding.

definitely has a cocky air about himself, but mostly because he’s had to stand on his own two feet for so long so he has a sense of pride with that, and knowing what he’s capable of. so in turn he doesn’t take a liking to people making incorrect assumptions. assume away, just be accurate about it.

general connection ideas: best friends, friends, ex-friends, pseudo siblings, ex-roommate (outside of school), classmates, childhood/family friends, coworkers (now or once-upon-a-time), exes [ 1. early adolescence innocent type vibe (first kiss-ish?) , 2. first more real relationship early hogwarts, 3. end of school era that ended badly, 4. post-hogwarts short-lived lust more than love, 5. recent ex. ], fwb, one night stand, blind date that didn't fully "work?", one-sided crush, old crush?, enemy, annoyance, drinking buddy, bad/good influence, people he's stolen from, people he's sold to, extended fam… others that i cannot think of

[ PINTEREST ]

[islamsibu]

Strengthen and Tone Your Arms and Forearms with These Effective Exercises

Arnold Schwarzenegger do a variety of exercises to work arms.

When it comes to building strength and definition in your arms and forearms, a well-rounded workout routine is essential. Incorporating a variety of exercises that target different muscle groups can help you achieve balanced and well-developed upper body strength. Whether you're looking to build muscle mass, improve functional strength, or simply tone and define your arms and forearms, the following exercises are designed to help you reach your fitness goals.

 Strengthening Your Arms

1. Bicep Curls

Bicep curls are a classic and effective exercise for targeting the biceps. Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, holding a dumbbell in each hand. Keep your elbows close to your body and slowly curl the weights toward your shoulders, then lower them back down. Aim for 3 sets of 10-12 reps. This exercise helps in building strength and definition in the biceps, contributing to well-rounded arm development.

2. Tricep Dips

Tricep dips are a compound exercise that effectively targets the triceps. Sit on the edge of a sturdy chair or bench and place your hands on the edge, fingers facing forward. Walk your feet out and lower your body by bending your elbows, then push back up. Aim for 3 sets of 10-12 reps. Tricep dips are an excellent bodyweight exercise for building strength and stability in the triceps

3. Push-Ups

Push-ups are a versatile and challenging exercise that targets the chest, shoulders, and triceps. Start in a plank position with your hands slightly wider than shoulder-width apart. Lower your body until your chest nearly touches the floor, then push back up. If regular push-ups are too challenging, you can modify by doing them on your knees. Aim for 3 sets of 8-12 reps. Push-ups are a fundamental exercise for building upper body strength and stability.

4. Overhead Dumbbell Press

The overhead dumbbell press is an effective exercise for targeting the shoulders and triceps. Stand with your feet hip-width apart, holding a dumbbell in each hand. Raise the dumbbells to shoulder height, then press them overhead until your arms are fully extended. Slowly lower the weights back to shoulder height. Aim for 3 sets of 10-12 reps. This exercise helps in developing shoulder strength and stability.

5. Hammer Curls

Hammer curls are a variation of the traditional bicep curl that targets the biceps and forearms. Stand with your feet shoulder-width apart, holding a dumbbell in each hand with your palms facing in. Keeping your elbows close to your body, curl the weights toward your shoulders, then lower them back down. Aim for 3 sets of 10-12 reps. Hammer curls are effective for building strength and definition in the biceps and forearms.

Strengthening Your Forearms

1. Wrist Curls

Wrist curls are an excellent exercise for targeting the forearm flexors. Sit on a bench or chair and hold a dumbbell in each hand with your palms facing up. Rest your forearms on your thighs, then lower the dumbbells toward the floor by bending your wrists, and then curl them back up. Aim for 3 sets of 10-12 reps. This exercise helps in strengthening the forearm flexors, contributing to improved grip strength and forearm development.

2. Reverse Wrist Curls

Reverse wrist curls target the forearm extensors, helping to balance forearm strength. Sit on a bench or chair and hold a dumbbell in each hand with your palms facing down. Rest your forearms on your thighs, then lower the dumbbells toward the floor by bending your wrists, and then curl them back up. Aim for 3 sets of 10-12 reps. This exercise is essential for building strength and stability in the forearm extensors.

3. Farmer's Walk

The farmer's walk is a functional exercise that targets the forearms and grip strength. Hold a heavy dumbbell or kettlebell in each hand and walk for a certain distance or time. Aim for 3 sets of 30-60 seconds. The farmer's walk is an effective exercise for developing grip strength and forearm strength training.

In conclusion, a well-rounded arm workout routine that includes a variety of exercises targeting different muscle groups is essential for building strength and definition in the arms and forearms. The exercises mentioned, such as bicep curls, tricep dips, push-ups, overhead dumbbell press, hammer curls, wrist curls, reverse wrist curls, and farmer's walk, are effective for developing upper body strength and stability, as well as improving grip strength and forearm development. Whether the goal is to build muscle mass, improve functional strength, or simply tone and define the arms and forearms, incorporating these exercises into a workout routine can help individuals achieve their fitness goals. Even Arnold Schwarzenegger utilized a variety of exercises to work his arms, emphasizing the importance of a well-rounded approach to arm and forearm strength training.

https://www.herculesbodybuilding.com/2023/12/top-6-best-arm-exercises-for-toned-muscles.html